happiness . . .

I am happy today. I am sure it has nothing to do with the fact that I got my butt out of bed at 5 AM and drove to the pool and swam laps for 25 minutes. Yeah, right--it has a lot to do with that. Other things that are making me happy at this moment in time--

Cortney's cute voice.
The blue sky.
John Mayer's song, "Say".
Church yesterday was so good. I was spiritually fed.
Lydia's seven month pictures on my blog.
Knowing what we are going to wear for family pictures on Saturday with my dear Amy.
The gorgeous full moon this morning as I was driving home from dropping Jon off at his car-pool spot.
My friend I introduced the Gospel to in High School has accepted a huge responsibility in his spiritual life. I'm proud of him.
Weighing in at 154 this morning.
The brownies I made yesterday were so yummy.
Jon and I went on a date this weekend.
Jon kissed me this morning.

Well, that's the end of the song. Love that song. Have a happy day!!

NieNie

It's been a little less than a month since I met Stephanie Nielson and her hubby, Christian. From what I can tell, they are incredible people who cherish the more important things in life--mainly family. And God. I have been deeply impacted by this woman and I have only met her electronically--through her blog. I have hesitated to share her story and my ensuing feelings on the subject. It's sad, heart wrenching really, why I know her, why I'm changed because I know her. Of course I guess I wish I didn't know her because if I didn't, then maybe none of it would have happened. She would still be in her world and me in mine. Going about life. Washing dishes, driving around, reading, blogging. I have pondered before about this blogging world I am a tiny part of. Just a small blip in the whole blogging experience, really. Stephanie was a bigger blip. Read regularly by many around the world. I had never heard about her until after her accident. I originally read about her on my friend's blog. And now, I have spent some time reading back through her blog. Reading about her life, who this woman was--no, who she is.

Beautiful.
Dark hair, freckles, an infectious smile. A sparkle in her eye. She takes care of herself. She is secure in herself. I am inspired to find more of me. To be proud of me. To be accepting of me.

Happy.
I want to be even happier than I am. I let go of my happiness sometimes. There are days that I wake up and a dark cloud is just hanging over me, not wanting to leave me alone. Blocking out the light. Blocking out some of my happiness. But I need to remember that clouds are above us only. And so many of my blessings, so much of my happiness is always looking up at me, through the beautiful eyes of my children. And the direct source of all happiness and light, my Savior, is best found by getting down on my knees, bowing my head, closing my eyes, in humble prayer.

Spiritual.
A link almost daily, if not daily, to general Conference reports can be found on her posts. I didn't get far enough to find an explanation. Perhaps the one she had read that day. I'm not sure. But it has inspired me to read those talks more.

In love.
Absolutely, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with Mr. Nielson. Don't get me wrong. I am in love with my husband. I am. But sometimes, life takes over. We are busy. And I let that love slip and slide around at times. I worry too. I worry about sounding cheesy or something. And I shouldn't worry. She has inspired me to love him more. To express my love for him more. To be grateful for each day I have with him.

A mother.
Just like me. And so many, many, many of us. We are co-creators with God. Given the special blessing to create, grow, teach, and love these children of God. Is all peaches and cream? Is life always rosy and pink? No. Life can suck some of the time. There's so many things that can distract us and fill our lives with stress and worry. But when it's all said and done, we are mothers. In it for the long haul. And because of Stephanie, I want to be a better mother. No basket on my head, thank you very much!!

Healthy.
She is a vegetarian (not I-though I do try to work in 1-2 meatless meals each week.)She runs. And runs, and runs, and runs. I run. Sort of, kind of, maybe. Working on it. Need to some more. Like it when I'm doing it. It's just the anticipation of the pain that inhibits me most times. But you can tell she values her body, the amazing creation it is.

A sister and a daughter.
She loves her family so much. And they love her. I'm grateful to have seen a glimpse of their love. I love their big family.

Anyhow, that is some of my thoughts on Stephanie. She and Christian are in my prayers as often as I remember. I hope the constant prayer in my heart helps too. And I hope by sharing this here, that perhaps at least one more person will be touched by their story and find it in their hearts to offer up one more prayer in their behalf. According to NieNie's sister, they are all feeling the prayers of others being offered in their behalf. Let's keep that up.

Today . . .

I wanted to pause to remember today. September 11. It used to be just another day. Weird, huh. I guess that's how life is. You live life pre and post events.

Jonathan was asking questions in the car today about 9/11. I answered as best I could. Matthew said, "well, that's dumb. They died when the plane hit the buildings." (talking about the terrorists) How do you explain suicidal terrorists who hate America to kids? "Why do they hate Americans, Mommy?" I honestly don't know. Sure, some will quote theories on the big bad bully America-how it's our screwed up foreign policy that spurred on the bad guys. Yadayada. I don't buy that. It's Satan. He hates our country--he hates our freedom. Freedom is the thing he wanted to deny us--he didn't trust in the Father enough to want any of us, himself included, to have freedom to choose. So he is able to stir up anti-America sentiment since it's not a perfect world, not a perfect country.

I have a small ache inside when I remember this day, seven years ago. Confusion, anger, hurt, sadness, shock, disbelief, relief . . . what emotion didn't I feel that day? Perhaps happiness--yeah, it was closer to relief than happiness that my children and husband were with me. That no one I knew or loved was involved in 9-11. Selfish relief, I suppose. You know that feeling--phew, glad that's not my trial.

So, I wrote the following thoughts in a comment on my friend's blog

Thanks Amy for your thoughts today. I almost did forget . . . over the past week, the upcoming anniversary would pass through my thoughts--as it does every once in a while, all of the time. Seven years have passed. Jonathan was 2. Matthew was months old. Then this morning, in the rush to get everyone into the car and get Jon to Shop-Ko on time, I didn't even think about it--till we backed out of the driveway and saw the flags lining the street. I love that sight. I really do. I love those flags blowing softly in the breeze. Moving with the wind. Anyhow, eventually I got KSL turned on and they were broadcasting the ceremony at Ground Zero. The names, once again, being read. One by one. The woman reading the names at the time read her father's name. A firefighter. It was such a surreal day. I had nightmares about it for a while. We had been to NYC the summer of 2000 and didn't take the time to go up in the towers--just thought they would always be there. We would do it next time we made it out to NYC. I remember, like you, watching TV day after day, hour after hour. The continous news feed at the bottom of the screen. I also remember listening to the radio and you know those radio mixes they put on there with the people calling their loved ones or whatever mixed with song--I think then the song was Hero. I remember specifically driving up to BYU to pick up Jon from class, listening to that song, bawling like a baby. What else to say . . . such a time of reflection on all we have. All we are blessed with. A time to remember. A time to pray.

It's how I felt immediately after reading her post.

God bless America.

Tears and the Olympics

So did anyone else cry when they watched Michael Phelps' mom watch him win gold after gold--race after race. And when he won by that insane .01 of a second--come on, does that amount of time even exist?--just her complete shock and joy and raw emotion!! I know he's still her baby. Even with all those medals and cameras--he's her baby.

And then when that graceful Nastia won the gold all around--the tears were there again. I do have issues with the gymnastics and could do another blog on that . . .however. Beside the point. I cried. I'm a sap. Yep, a sappy boob--or some such thing. Perhaps this is getting too personal.

WOW

That is all I can say. We watched the Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics in China tonight--amazing. Incredible. Words don't do it justice. I enjoyed it all and would watch it again. That doesn't necessarily happen with all opening ceremonies. The fireworks were incredible--all of it was. Spectacular. Absolutely spectacular. And the torch lighting--worth the 4 1/2 hours in and of itself. (these itty-bitty pictures so don't do it justice, but . . . .)

People Connections

The children started swimming lessons on Monday and I have run into a few people I haven't seen in months or even years. It has been fun!!! It has gotten me thinking about the whole 6 degrees of seperation thing--I don't think it is a coincidence that we are as connected as we are. I don't fully believe that all people come into your life by accident. Some do and some serve no purpose whatsoever, but some . . . . .some can really change your life. For good, for bad. It's kind of amazing. I look back over my life and the people I have been blessed to know--it's pretty cool. So here's a shout out to all of you in my life who mean so much to me. I'm glad I know you. I'm glad our paths have crossed.
I talked to a woman today at swimming lessons--I don't know even know her name. I do know that her daughter is 3, almost 4--in Cortney's class. She (the daughter)has this pretty, curly red hair and she hates having water splashed on her face. Neither this woman nor her husband have red hair--it's in the genes somewhere though. I watched her as she fretted about her daughter screaming in the pool (who, by the way, was doing so much better by the end of the lesson.) It's hard to be a Mom so many times--and so rewarding so many more times. Our paths crossed briefly. A few minutes is all. I have always wanted to write a story about this theme of lives crossing and how our decisions can ultimately affect so many more people than just ourselves. That our lives are all interconnected. That we aren't brought to the same place as someone else by mere coincidence. That we can learn so much from others and their lives and experiences. Not sure about any details of this story. I just think it is an interesting theme that could possibly be fun to explore in a fictional setting.
That is one positive aspect of moving--if we ever sell our house--everywhere I go, I "pick up" more friends. My bestest friend, my longest friend, is Karyn. We have been friends since second grade in Plymouth Massachusetts. That is incredible to me. Especially now that I have children in elementary school. That's my entire life. I have dear, dear friends from High School in North Carolina. Nancy, Maria, Julia--Julia I just reconnected with because of the beauty of Facebook. Haven't talked to her in 13 years--and here we are. I have friends from college--that list is a bit longer. I love them all. There is Kim from the first ward Jon and I lived in after we were married. She's in Alaska now. I have a good group of women I adore from the second ward we lived in after that. Some absolutely amazing people who I love. And now, this ward we are in--another group of women I just adore. So it's kind of fun to wonder who I might get to meet in our next place of living wherever that may be. If it happens. My life becomes what it is because of me and also because of the people I connect with as the years go along. I wonder at times what our lives would have been like had we stayed where we were instead of buying this home. I am sure many things would have been different--financially things might have been better in some ways. But money isn't everything. And the people I know and love who I wouldn't know and love . . . .it's worth it. I am glad I am here.

A Short Story: "The Proposal"

She should have seen it coming. Looking back in the years to come, it was so obvious. But she had been on her own for so many years and unloved years before that, even with him at her side. So as Lindy Smith drove her silver Toyota Camry hybrid across the bustling town of Provo, Utah, she had more on her mind than the man she was going to have dinner with.

Lindy was strong. Those who didn't know her well had been know to call her intimidating. She knew what she wanted, how she would get it and no one was going to stop her. At 24 she had left her abusive husband with her two children, a boy and girl, in tow. Back then, divorce was a lot more taboo, even outside of her religious beliefs. And within her church it just did not happen. People whispered, said things, judged--Lindy didn't care. She went back to school, got accepted into law school and graduated Cum Laud of her class at the age of 30. Being a single working mother was tough for her, but she did the best she could. She and the children, Tommy and Brenda, traveled, visiting all the National State parks, Disneyland and Disney World, swam in the Caribbean Sea with turtles and saw whales breaching on a cruise to Alaska. At 36 she became the top family lawyer in her firm and to celebrate they went to France, dined on cheese and bread in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower and toured cathedrals and castles. Her children grew, went to college, served missions for their church and now both were married with children. Lindy was a grandmother, retired lawyer, writer of unpublished poetry, lover of organic gardening and companions with a beautiful Golden Retriever named Susie. Life was good.

And that Golden Retriever and a new hyacinth plant was what was on her mind as she drove to Steve Connor's house across town. This man she had known her entire life, the son of her mother's best friend. Lindy was friends with his sister. She had gone on one date with him in college and went home to laugh about it with her roommates. He was old, quirky and from her past life in California. She got married to her ex-husband 14 months later.

She was 57 when she and Steve reconnected. He became her confidant, her travelling companion and friend. She mourned the 10 year anniversary of his wife's passing with him. He went to family events with her. They laughed and drank hot chocolate at the local I.H.O.P. talking politics and whatever other topics would come to mind. Why she didn't expect what was coming is unknown. But she didn't.

After a delicious dinner of roast turkey and mashed potatoes, they sat in his living room, sipping drinks and debating the latest Washington D.C. debacle until there wasn't much left to debate on it. He was an outspoken Democrat, she a conservative, albeit still outspoken Republican. It left very little unsaid.

There was a comfortable quiet between them now. A soft, spring breeze came in through the window. Lindy could see the gigantic Rocky Mountains out the window, the peaks turning red and purple as the setting sun cast a glow on the snow still present. She was soaking all of this when it happened.

Steve knelt down before her, touched her hand with his and said, "Marry me, Lindy." She raised an eyebrow. He smiled knowingly. "Please," he added with a touch of urgency in his voice.

Her heart skipped a beat. Her heart said yes, her mind asked if her heart was crazy, her mouth said,"I can't."

He slightly pouted. She had never seen him pout, even when she topped him in a political debate. It was kind of cute. It brought out the soft wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. "Lindy, I am so serious. We need each other."

She gently touched his hand. "That's not what this is about, Steve. It's just not. Me, you--we're just . . .friends. Good friends. But friends." She gently pushed his hands away and stood up, moving to the couch across the room. He followed on his knees, not giving up that easily.

"I love you Lindy. Love you! What else would it be about? I need you. Please, marry me?"

She smiled, her eyes glistening through her glasses perched on the nose he was dying to kiss. Her lips were soft, years of experience and life appearing softly beneath her makeup. "No," she said softly.

He furrowed his brow, then raised his eyebrows that were slowly turning from blond to white. "Will you think about it?"

She contemplated this option. "Yes", she said just as the phone rang.

Steve got up to answer it and Lindy let her breath out, unaware she had even been holding it.

"Hi, Mom. . .Great. Hey, guess what! I'm engaged!!" Lindy looked at him in horror. How dare he announce this as an engagement to anyone! He caught her searing glance and added, "Well, I'm engaged, Lindy is still thinking about it."

It was at that moment that she fell head over heels in love with this man. This quirky, liberal Democrat who had come back into her life in such an unexpected way. Of course she didn't tell him for 4 more days. And they were married three months later in a local chapel, their Bishop conducting. She wore a soft ivory dress, he a navy blue suit. They honeymooned in Bar Harbor, Maine at a small Inn on the shore. They rode bikes, boated, hiked, and fell even more in love. It was the beginning of something magical. An incredible way to enter this third chapter of her life.


***Such a rough draft. I don't even know if the years add up right or anything. I just wrote this on a whim after talking to a woman in my ward about how she met her husband. I wanted to get these thoughts down before I forgot.******