Posted

Elise cracks me up.  She is so much fun.  I walked down the hall one day to find these signs she had typed, printed and hung on her and Ian's door.

 Ian's Door Sign

Elise's Door Sign

That girl makes life so much fun.  I certainly got a good laugh out of these signs. :)

And so...

Life is busy.  I have a million things to blog about.  (For those of you out there who take things literally, its actually more like 7 or 8 things.)  About school starting.  About Merry Grace's disastrous entrance into Kindergarten.  And at long last, her success. :)  About Paige's birthday.  About Ian's birthday.  And Ian's baptism.  About my brother's missionary countdown.  And some funny stories.  And lots and lots of cuteness.

And so, since I have so many things to blog about, I'm going to start with something completely different.  

A few months ago, we inherited a couple of cats.  I don't even know if I blogged about it or not.  My sweet sister-in-law was kind enough to give us two of their cat's kittens. ;)  A solid black one and a solid white one.  We, frankly, have terrible luck with cats.  They all run away.  But, with so much nature around our house, Cory, especially, likes having a cat around to keep snakes away.  So "Salt" and "Pepper" (but most frequently just called "Kitty" or "Cat") became new additions to our front porch.  Its been a few months, and as typically happens with our cats, Salt ran away.  Or found a new home.  Or disappeared.  And so, we're down to a one cat family.

But this week, Pepper proved her worth.  My brother came by and I heard him yell something from the front porch.  Turns out there was a snake out there.  I'm not sure what kind.  It wasn't a black snake or a copperhead, that much I do know.  The best part, though, was that it was already dead.  Our lovely little Pepper had already taken care of it.  When we came upon the scene, Pepper was batting the snake around like  she'd just discovered her favorite toy.

Ethan made sure he was dead and disposed of him for me.  (A million thank yous for that!!!)  And Pepper has just won the "Cat of the Year" award. :)

(Unfortunately, we haven't taken many pictures of the cats & this is the best I've got.  I think she deserves something a little more fantastic after her successful snake removal, but this will have to do. :))

Out There.

I almost wrote about this before I wrote my last post.   It's something I've had on my mind lately as I've blogged.

After losing the baby last year, I felt like my pain and heartache became a very public thing.  And for the most part I've been so grateful for that.  I received so much love and support through a painfully difficult time, that I wouldn't have gotten in the same way, if I hadn't put myself out there.  By nature, I tend to keep my deepest emotions and feelings to myself.  So making the conscious choice to go against my natural instinct--to wrap myself in a cocoon--was more than a little scary.  Instead of wrapping myself in a cocoon of silence, I wrapped myself in a cocoon of love and support from friends and family.  And I'm so thankful I did.

But after a while, having my pain and heartache "out there" got hard.  And I had so many deep and tender emotions and feelings, even months later, that were just too difficult to share.  Some were painful, of course, but some have been sweet and beautiful.  But personal.  And so I've just blogged about superficial things, rather than the heart of the matter.  Not that the things I posted about weren't real.  All the experiences of our family are important.  But I felt like mostly I had to just graze the surface of life and not get too deep.

But just skimming the surface isn't really who I am.  While I am personal and private in a lot of ways, I'm also very sincere and thoughtful and caring.  And those things don't just happen on the surface.

I guess my point is that I felt like I had my heart opened, in a way, through my loss.  But it hurt a little bit.  Or a lot.  And for it really to heal, I had to shelter it and protect it a little bit.  Or a lot.  But I finally feel that I can open up more again.  And get to the heart of the matter.  Because that's who I am.  I think its another step in the healing process to feel that way.  Not that my heart will ever be the same again.  And not just because of the heartache, but also because of the love and friendship I felt from those around me.

I love this quote by Elder James E. Faust: "Its not so much what happens to us, but how we deal with what happens to us."  I don't just want to endure life.  I want to endure it well.  Or as President Hinckley said, "In all of living, have much fun and laughter. Life is to be enjoyed, not just endured."  I still have a lot of work to do.  But I think I'm getting there.

Songs of the Heart

At church today, we were practicing for the primary sacrament meeting presentation.  I play the piano in primary, so I get to focus a lot on the songs the children sing.  The little Sunbeams and some of the CTR 4's were sitting down in front of the stand and Rachel, who was directing the music, commented that those little Sunbeams were singing their hearts out.  And even from where I was, I could hear them. :)  I had really been thinking a lot about the words and the meanings of the songs the children were singing and how simple, yet profound, the messages in the songs really are.

And quickly I thought about what a blessing the primary songs have been in my life, and not just as a child.  In fact, probably mostly as an adult.  As most of you know, my dear, sweet Grandmother passed away earlier this year.  There just isn't enough time or space for me write how much she meant to me.  There are a thousand, maybe a million, experiences and memories that made our relationship what it was.  And its hard to put into words, what that loss has been like.

One thing, for which I am abundantly grateful, is that I got the be with Grandma those last few days before she passed away.  Grandma was only in the hospital for 4 days before she passed away.  Even though she was 90 and had gotten more feeble, her rapid decline was very sudden.  She had been in the hospital a day or two when she had to be moved to a Critical Care unit.  She had been unresponsive--not sleeping, but also not able to "wake up" either--and the doctors said she probably wouldn't wake up again.  But that morning, I had some quiet time with just me and Grandma.  I talked to her for a while and then thought maybe she'd like to hear some music.  Grandma always loved music and I thought it might be comforting.  The best (and believe me, I use that term loosely) instrument available in that moment was my voice.  So I decided to sing some primary songs and hymns for her.  I sang a few and then chose "A Child's Prayer."  There lay my sweet Grandmother, less than a day away from leaving her earthly home.  I stood close by, smoothing her hair off her face, snuggling my face next to hers as I sang these words:

Heavenly Father, are you really there?
And do you hear and answer every child's prayer?
Some say that Heaven is far away, 
But I feel it close around me as I pray.

Heavenly Father, I remember now,
Something that Jesus told disciples long ago: 
"Suffer the children to come to me." 
Father in prayer I'm coming now to thee.

Pray, He is there. 
Speak, He is listening. 
You are his child, 
His love now surrounds you.

He hears your prayer, 
He loves the children, 
Of such is the Kingdom, 
The Kingdom of Heav'n.

A song that I had learned and loved as a child, took on a new and beautiful meaning, as I sang the words to my beloved Grandmother as she prepared to leave this earth.  A song that I liked, has now become one that I love and one that I will treasure, because of the sacred memory I have tucked away with it. 

It was only a few minutes after I'd finished singing, that my Grandma opened her eyes.  It took a little while, but eventually she regained consciousness and we were given the gift of one more precious afternoon to spend with Grandma, as she talked to us, visited with us and loved us.  And we were given the chance to tell her how much we love her and to serve her and love her.  Some would say it was coincidence or luck or chance.  Some would say it was a miracle.  All I know is that it was a gift and a blessing and one for which I am deeply and eternally grateful.


Yeah.  He's there.  And He hears.  And He answers.