#52 Stories--Story #25

Sorry, I was out of town for Easter and didn't get this prepped to auto-publish.

Where are your roots?  Do you feel strong ties to a particular place, either because of your own personal experience or your ancestry?

I love my hometown, but it isn't what I remember when I go back to visit.  I guess that is the way things go, as if you aren't changing  you are staying the same.  But Gilroy was a great place to grown up. I had wonderful friends, and made some terrific memories there.  The homestead my parents still live on was a super place too! I loved having the space to have animals, adventures, exercise my imagination, play without any more worries that "Will there be a snake on the next rock in the sunshine?" I do enjoy going home to visit with my parents, and enjoying the space again, but it is too "out of town" for my taste these days.  But it was a wonderful place to grow up.

As far as feeling an affinity to other places, I have always had a pull to the British Isles.  I finally got to visit in 2016.  I had about a week in London and then saw Dover and Newcastle. Plus a quick stopover in the Orkney Islands of Scotland.  I haven't made it to Ireland yet, but that is on my bucket list.  I'm not sure what draws me to these places, but I love the language, the accent, the manners, the history and the people.  I love to listen and tell stories, so maybe that is it.  The Irish are notorious story tellers.  and when I did get my DNA traced, I was surprised to find out I'm 17% Irish by my DNA.  I'll take that.

Mission Parallels

Yesterday I got to listen to two different just returned missionaries speak in their families' sacrament meetings.  One was my neighbor across the street.  The other was another young man from our stake.

My darling neighbor was wonderful to hear speak of his missionary experiences and the many things he's learned.  He spoke on the topic of miracles still occur.  At the close of his remarks, our stake president stood with him and asked him to describe his feelings as he was released from his full time mission on Friday evening.  Jordan got a little weepy and said that he really didn't want to be released because he had so loved his mission and the closeness he felt to the Spirit and the love he had fro the people he served.

I can relate.

The second young man spoke of his mission in Jackson, Mississippi.  He too told stories of those he met and taught and of some of the marvelous learning opportunities a mission gave him.  Then he said something that hit me.  He said that he was told "When you come to love those you serve, your mission will be a success."

I think I can relate to that one as well.

I am not serving a full time mission, but I do love my calling in the Stake Young Women presidency.  I love the women I work with now--just as I loved those I worked with int he previous presidency.  And I absolutely love the Young Women we serve.  I enjoy the working relationship we share with our inspired stake presidency and the wonderful high councilors we have worked with over the years.  And I love--and have learned much from--the ward YW presidencies we have the honor of serving.  But I mostly love the girls.  And I have felt the Spirit witness to me of the love our Heavenly Father has for these young women--His daughters.  That is an overwhelming realization.

Hearing these young men relate their feelings of their missions and drawing the parallels to my own calling at the moment, made me grateful for the opportunities given me.  And really makes me treasure the time I have left--however long that may be.

Feeling Disarmed

Last week I took my big Canon DSLR into the camera "Doctor" for the annual check up and cleaning that I wish I would have started doing sooner.  This little camera repair place in Provo is a family owned and operated joint with a darling, if (on occasion) a little curmudgeonly, married couple.

They work on all sorts of cameras, but since Nikon has decided no aftermarket repair parts will be sold, their work on Nikons is sliding steadily.  But I have a Canon so that is not my problem.

I have been without it now for a week and two days.  The little couple went back east Tuesday to see a new grand-baby, making what would normally be a 24-turn around into a much longer one.  I didn't realize how much I use the camera day to day.  Sure on big occasions, like, a Girl's 17th birthday....I'd assume to use it.  Man I missed it yesterday.

I will be calling today, as I haven't heard from them at all, to see if the camera is perhaps done and waiting for me to pick it up like a child whose parent is late getting to day-care.  I feel bad about leaving it, but I know it is a necessary procedure.

Sort of like when The Boy had his tonsils and adenoids removed and I have to leave the poor little thing alone with the surgical team who knocked him out and  ripped them out and left him breathing dragon-like bad breath.  But that is another story.

Here's hoping I get my camera back home, and in renewed condition, today.

Bubbling To The Surface

For three weeks I have tried really hard to be supportive and understanding and patient and hopeful.  I have tried to do what I know was needed, and still complete the things I knew others counted on me to do.  I've tried to make the new-nonschedule work around here, and still make plans each day that I can cross off my list.  I think I am losing the fight.

I realize that in the race for being a "good" daughter/sister/wife/mother/volunteer/disciple (choose your word) it is more important that I am just moving forward--regardless of the speed.  But this weekend, I feel like I fell off the track.  All those tracks.  And I have not good explanation.

The daily to-do list of things never gets much shorter for me.  And maybe that is the problem. 

At some point I hope to come to an agreement about what is Good/Better/Best and just stick with the best parts of what I am doing.  But until that happens, I still judge myself on what I get accomplished on that trifold list.  Some things, like laundry or grocery shopping, have to be done whether I like it or not.  Other things, like mucking out the garden before the first snow flies, is just a good idea. (Though, that said, no one else even seemed interested in eating the tomatoes I grew in it this year--so why bother again?--except I look at it as an "obedience garden".)  Some things would be nice to get to but I never seem to have the time to get them checked off.

I know, none of this even makes sense.  Perhaps in my fear of showing myself too vulnerable, I'm too cryptic to let you in on the reality I am dealing with here, but that is probably just as well too.  I would probably hurt feelings if I just spilled the beans.  And that was NOT my intent.  I really just wanted to vent a little and record my feelings as they are for future assessment. 

I think I probably just need a therapist.

Tender Hearted

This morning I had to tell The Boy that his favorite, and only, cub scout leader passed away in the night. 

Two weeks ago she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and a bleeding ulcer that had kept her from eating anything for almost a month.  She was in a lot of pain, I am sure, but never wanted a fuss made over her.  Her family had rallied around and did what they could to support her and strengthen each other.

We were up early to make it to a neighboring pool for a swim meet at 7 AM this morning.  While I had the kids' attention before family prayers this morning I told them about her passing.  Other kids in our neighborhood, who knew the situation--and this latest tragic development--swim too, and I didn't want my kids to hear it on the pool deck right before a race, in public, with no place to let the tears out in private.

I am glad I did it this way.  As I told him, The Boy's eyes welled up with tears and, though he tried to be tough and strong about it, he wept for this dear, sweet woman who really loved him.  He knew she loved him and wanted the best for him.  She encouraged him in scouts and as he became a boy scout she cheered for him from the sidelines as he achieved everything he did.

He gave her his Eagle Mentor pin at his Court of Honor.

He cried big, heart heavy tears this morning for her. Then he wiped his eyes with his swim towel, and got in the car to go compete.

Just like Diana would have wanted him to do.

Miffed...Torqued...Ruffled...Ticked...Put Out...

I had my feelings hurt yesterday and would like your input to tell me I am just being unreasonable--or better yet, I was completely just in feeling a little hurt.

Now this is not a deal breaker kind of thing, as it happened here with my family. Rest assured we will go on in our regular way, and we will still eat and work and talk and everything that goes along with being a family. I still love them, even if they are insensitive, occasionally.

Some of you might know that GG has been working on a Christmas Lights Extravaganza. He and The Boy have strung lights all over (a la Clark Griswold from Christmas Vacation) and have synced the lights to music on the computer and even rigged up a low frequency radio broadcast of the songs so you can "drive though" and watch and listen.

As each little song is roughed in, he has us all pile into the car and drive out into the middle of the cul-de-sac and "experience" his creativity. We have done this as a family at dinner time, and I recently woke up about midnight and he had me go with him them too. Their work is lovely and quite imaginative. Though at midnight, I wasn't quite so enthusiastic.

Then here, is where I feel I got slighted.

I recently created a book online with uplifting and inspirational quotes about nature along with my photos that I use for note cards and had it published--like a real book. It was a Christmas gift experiment and yesterday I received the shipment with my book.

I was very excited about it. I gently opened it and tenderly turned the pages and admired how it all came together. Of course, I wanted to show my loved ones my work. I asked each of them if they would like to see it. They all said "Yes" and then some variation of "in a minute". Of course, the minutes came and went and I finally went to bed at 10:30. No one had even bothered to look at it. And my bet will be today, no one remembers to look either.

We all run out into the street for each update of the Light Show. Why can't my creative work hold the same interest? [Were Genius Golfer's name Marcia, here is where I would insert: "Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!"]

So, wise and kind friends, am I offended for no cause or am I right to get my feathers a little ruffled here? Either way, you can tell me. I guess I just need to hear it from someone else today.

Recreational Contention?!

I just got thrown out of The Girl's soccer game. Actually, I threw myself out.


The teams were into the second half with no score, both teams playing fairly well. The refs are still 15 years old and calling relatively nothing. Parents have a tendency to get frustrated too, when things like this keep happening.


There was nothing threatening said, and certainly not invoking any physical danger, but disagreements flared between one of our parents (who coaches a different child's team in town and is very experienced) and the opposing team's coach. Only words were exchanged but they were tense words. And they made me VERY uncomfortable. No, I wasn't the parent, and it wasn't Genius Golfer either. But still....


Why does this kind of confrontation make me so uneasy?! Is it a "girl thing"? Am I THAT big of a wuss? I had a real physical reaction to the contention! And it wasn't even my disagreement. I get the same sick feeling in my stomach and a stinging eye sensation when this kind of thing happens. The reaction is elevated if lawyers or courtrooms are involved.


I've never been a good one for confrontation; I avoid it when I can. I am sure I ingest my feelings far more often than I express them to the confrontor in person. Or, like today, I just run home with my little camp chair and get onto the computer and verbally vomit my feelings up here.


It has always bothered me that I cannot control my feelings face to face. I have, in the past, felt walked on and taken advantage of because I can't just say exactly what I mean, for fear of offending someone, or hurting their feelings. But usually, when I feel like this, what I mean isn't appropriate for a family rated blog or any interpersonal communication anyway, so maybe it is just as well.


I see the whole issue as a personality flaw.


As I grew up, my sister could say whatever she felt at the moment she felt it and she didn't have guilt or any sense of impropriety when she expressed herself. When she did it, I felt myself cowering behind after her trying to smooth things over and make it all OK again--even when I agreed with her, and that did happen occasionally. And now, I find myself doing the same thing still.


There is a book titled I Don't Have to Make Everything OK, or something to that effect. I have never read it, but I always have liked the title. I just wish I could internalize the idea the title explains. But so far, no luck.


"Why can't we all just get along?!" was famously questioned during the '92 LA riots. It may not have been a riot, but the junior high girls' recreation league soccer games might be a good place to ask it again. Too bad we never got a good answer the first time Rodney King asked it.