Holy.

Last Sunday night I dropped my dad off at his "new place" for the final time that week.
That place was my sister Alicia's home- a temporary landing until he and my mom can move to Utah. After a week-long visit of being joined at the hip with the man who has been my hero for 50 plus years, it was hard.
We sat in the car for a little while, as we had done all week, while he finished telling me a story from his childhood.
A story I had heard a million times as a little girl while he tucked us in to bed.
I loved hearing it one more time.
I loved his incredulous reaction when I filled in some details that he didn't know I knew.
I loved his emotion as he told me his mother was an angel from heaven.
And I loved when he wondered out loud what he would do without me when I left.

And that is the question I have been asking ever since he began to leave.
Alzheimer's is taking him and it's the worst.

But this past week, I tried to pretend it was the best.
Spending every waking moment with him felt like a gift.
He knew me, called me by name often, and told me he loved me over and over.
We spent alot of time in the memories he can remember-
and struggled through the daily ones that he just can't.
We laughed, we cried.
It was the best.

And so I dropped him off for the last time that week and wondered what the next time would be like.
And I cried my way home because I am the luckiest, most blessed daughter.
As always, time with him leaves me changed for the better.

I love you, Dad.

My dad with his two sisters: Joan (the bride), and Janis.

With President Kimball

With my INCREDIBLE mom and their favorite past time.

Homecoming 2018

What are you going to do when your last child does this to you? 

Not sure how this happened but-

 okay. 

Junior year, here we come.

2017 In A Playlist

Spotify just let me know that this was my most played song last year.
Not surprised at all.

And I could make a good case for it becoming this year's too.

Have I mentioned that life is hard?
At the fireside I went to last night one of the speakers said something like this:
We are trained to think that all questions should have answers, 
that there should always be a happy ending. 
But the truth is, mortality is messy- and life is hard, 
and for some complicated issues,
 there are no "clean" answers.
That resonated with me.
My life is messy.
But I am learning to embrace the mess and in the process, God is embracing me.
Mostly, I am learning how to trust Him more.
God is HUGE about trusting Him.
Personally, I wouldn't be able to believe in a God that I understood completely
 and all of His ways made sense to me.
That would put Him on my level. How then is He God?
 I believe in a God who has all the answers but only gives me some of them right now.
 Because with me, He is trying to create someone who leaves this earth better than when I  came.
And most importantly, He is trying to create someone who trusts Him and His son.
Completely.
100%.
That just doesn't come without a whole bunch of awesome, terrible, happy, painful, joyful, and spiritually stretching experiences.
And stretching is scary.
Thus my most played Spotify song:

When it gets hard, I get a little braver now, I get a little stronger now.
And when it gets dark, I get a little brighter now, I get a little wiser now... 

Yep, braver, stronger, brighter, and wiser.
I'll take all of those.
Here's to a braver, stronger, brighter and wiser 2018.

A Week In the Life

 Drove by Janis' old apartment and it looked like this. After spending all summer emptying her house in Payson, I knew she would be proud of this kindred spirit inhabiting her old space. 

i

 Said goodbye to Nephi (sniff).

Enough said, right?

I'm pathetic.

 Made a cookie dough birthday cake for my niece.

I'm shallow enough to take a picture of the cake and not of her. Yikes.

Imagine a thick spread of cookie dough in between the layers.

That's why you lost out Alissa. 

Cookie dough always wins.

And speaking of shallow, I spent the night at a highly controversial city council meeting just trying to figure out if the Provo City Attorney, was the same Brian Jones 

that was my huge pre-pubescent crush.

In Atlanta, Georgia. 

I was 12.

It could be him.

Spent a good portion of each day 

drooling over pictures of my nephew, Leo.

Born in the middle of the solar eclipse.

Going to see him this week.

Hello, Atlanta.

And Holy Heaven, my classes are back in full swing.

Could not be more happy about that.

Onward and upward. 

Shabbat Shalom.

 

 

Five Things.

I was driving when I heard the news that Glen Campbell died.
I cried.
Glen Campbell was part of the soundtrack to my childhood--my dad loved him.

My dad.
I cannot put into words how much I love him.
I came into this world a little bit crazy maybe.
My sisters used to call me "moody" and my parents kindly referred to me as "dramatic."
I'm both.
But both of those things are part of a package deal that makes me who I am.
And who I am is someone who feels things deeply.
It's good and it's bad but it is what draws me close to Heaven--I long for the things of the spirit.
My dad has always understood this about me and we have had countless conversations about things eternal.
He is struggling a bit and it's hard. Hard on him and hard on us.
As he is beginning to forget, I am doing lots of remembering.

Five things I never want to forget about my dad. 

1) He modeled for me what my Heavenly Father is like. I have never been afraid to approach God because I knew Him to be loving, kind, and forgiving. I learned that from my dad.

2) He is the hardest working man I know. Every minute of every day. He taught us all to be hard workers and to do our best and to dream. He is a dreamer that put his dreams on the ground. He wasn't afraid to fail. And he failed a bit. But he also succeeded big. Grandpa's Ice Cream Shop is the cherry on top of  those dreams...

3) He loves God. He LOVES God. There is nothing he wouldn't do if God required it of him. His life has been living proof of that. 

4) He has been the answer to many of my prayers. One Sunday in college I fasted for relief of the pain I was experiencing from a broken heart. A few moments before my fast was over, and I had felt no consolation, he called me. As we talked he shared exactly what I needed to hear, and what I needed to do. It was the beginning of the healing for me. I will never forget that.

 5) He deepened my love for the temple. As he and my mother served over the years, their love spilled over and inspired me to be more meaningful and dedicated in my temple worship. So grateful for our long conversations about the temple. 

Those are just five things. 
There is so much more. 
Love you Dad.

The Holy Place of Certainty.

A few months ago, a friend gave a beautiful talk in sacrament meeting titled : The Holy Place Uncertainty.
The concept was something I had never thought about in that way before, but it hit me hard.
The idea was that in our places of uncertainty we have the opportunity to become the most holy.
The times when we don't know for sure where God is.
When it feels like He has stepped back.
When it feels like we just don't have the strength to take on one more heartache.
Those times when our faith takes some hard hits--yet we hang on.
We keep praying, we keep trusting, we just keep moving forward.
Those are the times that eventually, God writes upon our hearts who we truly are.

However, the other night as I was walking into the temple, the spirit whispered: "This is a holy place of certainty."
It is the place that shows me the end from the beginning-- it shows me who I am in no uncertain terms.
Time and time again as I grapple with the uncertainty of my current struggles,
I am reminded in the temple of the sure promises of Heavenly Father.
That my covenants bind me and my family to Him.
Because He is a God of  certainty.
But He knows there is great strength and power in uncertainty, when you turn your heart and faith over to Him anyway --
Faith- it's the first principle of the gospel for a reason.

I am reminded of  my religion teacher's mantra for when he doesn't have the answer to a hard question or struggle:

"I don't know.
But I know God knows.
And that's all I need to know."

Yes.

Shabbat Shalom.

Turning.

May 30th, 2017

 Having your youngest turn fifteen is not for the faint of heart. 
Each birthday has brought me pangs of angst 
from the time  he turned 5. 
His birthdays mark an end to an era.
In a kind of a melodramatic way it's like saying goodbye to each of my children-- 
I'll never have another 5 year old, 6 year old or 14 year old.  
See what I mean about dramatic?
It's not fun.
However, so far, this boy has welcomed his fifteenth year in a big way.
A high adventure trip to Lake Powell, a Pioneer Trek, 
and a stellar week at EFY have occupied June and July. 
He has loved it all.
He's becoming a fine young man.
I'll take that as a consolation prize for the trampling of my heart.
Drama queen. Sorry. :)

 Happy late birthday Will.
Love you.