Silently Screaming

It's May 22, 2020.   Corona virus is all around us.  The world has made a giant change from the social life we thought was so common, since March. Masks, sanitizer, stalking for T.P, washing hands while singing "Happy Birthday" twice, social distancing (six ft. apart), schools out (last three months online), no church in our buildings, no Temple, no traveling, no Dr. or hair appts. (until this last week, only with a mask and an invitation from the parking lot to come in), television from commentators at their homes. . .

It's been odd.  And the longer it lasts, I have to ask myself if I can live with it getting worse.
I have done my own little share of silently screaming, while noticing others' wrestling with it, too.

I noticed from the beginning that my many colored sets of silky polka dot or striped pajama tops and bottoms could just as easily be worn mismatched.  In fact, I purposely look for a mismatch anymore; somehow it makes me feel victorious!

I haven't worn make up for months, except on Sundays.  And I think about the ritzy name brand stuff I used to only buy if there was a gift offered with a purchase.  Fry's grocery store has been sufficient for all my quick make up needs.  I have seriously ask myself if I could get by with one tube of Maybelline water proof mascara every three years; I don't care the color, they never had what I was looking for anyway.  I look like a palomino pony without something.  I told myself years ago I would never go without makeup.  (That was after not recognizing a beautiful friend without hers at girls camp one year.)  Could I really run around with no eyes?

And my hair.  I prided myself on being a pure bred red head.  I couldn't let people call me "blond" could I?  Could I really let my hair go natural?  People do it every day, but not if their coloring is fair, like mine.  Without make up or hair color, I would look headless!

I just realized yesterday that the favorite lipstick I can't live without gets covered up every day with a mask!  Why all the bother?

And another silent scream comes daily when I put on yet another pair of earrings.  I've worn pairs I haven't worn in years.  Oh, the colors, the shapes, the dangles.  Everyday is a new ear adventure!

Henry made me feel good last week as he stepped in the door.  His hair was perfectly combed.  His smile and eyes were as bright as ever.  His plaid collared shirt was buttoned up like he would be winning an award.  I made a fuss over him as he confidently walked in.  But as my eyes followed, I realized that under that dapper plaid shirt, was a beautiful pair of giant plaid flannel pajama pants and a pair of flip flops.  All of a sudden I hoped this could be the new normal.

We received a darling photo from our elementary music teacher daughter in Utah.  She and the other teachers were proudly waving on their former students as the parade of cars cruised past the school at the end of the year.  I'm sure it was a little sad.  But there she was, wearing a big smile, her pajama pants, and comfy t shirt; the new norm.

And yesterday, the day after online school got out, I had to cheer for Maddie and Eliza, proudly sporting their new purple tipped hair that was a family project earlier that day.

Silently screaming in our inward and outward appearances.  I see it everywhere.  But somehow it relieves the anxiety of knowing that even though things are different, we are all in this together.  It's free.  It's legal.  It's creative.  It's normal.
Thank goodness for the silent screaming we have in common.  And for colorful silky pajamas, eyes to see, hair to coif, blue lipsticks to choose, ears to hear, grandchildren to cheer for.  Now where did I put my Miss Piggy slippers?

My New Beginning

Last Thursday, after learning our cruise to Hawaii had been cancelled because of the chaos of the corona virus, (which sadly would have made me cry in any other situation) we decided to hit Costco.  Our priorities had been suddenly switched around and we found ourselves with a list of items we might need instead of suntan lotion.

Driving up, the parking lot was jammed like it was the day before Thanksgiving.  We drove up and down, looking for a space.  Finally we spotted a very pregnant woman unloading her purchases in a small car close to the front.  We pulled close to wait, turning our blinkers on to signal our claim.  Now we could see she had two overflowing carts with everything from cases of diapers to cases of cheerios.  We patiently waited as she methodically packed her car from top to bottom and side to side.  There was no way she could see out her back windows.  She looked up long enough to catch our eye in approval as she rolled her cart to a safe place.  Then she hobbled back to her car, carefully buckled in, and pulled out.  As she passed us she did something I'll always remember. She waved in appreciation.

We could have been impatient.  She could have been flustered.  Life these days is bringing on evident stress to people we've never met.   But in that moment it seemed each of us had empathy, despite the unrest of the world.  I will always remember her quick wave of gratitude and will thoughtfully add this same gesture to my new beginnings as I face these crazy times.

Christmas 2019

Christmas, 2019.

We spent an wonderful Thanksgiving with all our children and families in and out, here in Gilbert.  Heaven truly is felt when your children are together.  We played, we laughed, we ate, we shopped, we met up with cousins, and we loved.  The ones from far away are always a light.  I am so thankful for the effort each one makes to be here when they know they'll all be together.  That is a complete blessing!  Brothers and sisters have connections that no other can share.

Last Thursday night, Kate performed in a huge Christmas choir that performed at the Mesa Center of the Arts.  She looked so grown up.  I'm so glad she appreciates singing with a choir; especially at Christmas.  When the music started and those children joined together to sing as choirs of angels, the tears popped out of nowhere.  So profound!

Then (last Friday), Randy and I flew up to Orem to be with Julianne and family.  Emmie and Peter had a piano recital, Julianne had an orchestra concert, and Emmie was in a Christmas musical in the city.  The thrill it gives a couple of Grandparents to witness their own far away kids perform at Christmas!  My eyes fill with uncontrollable tears at the sound of Christmas music anyway.  But when it's your own!  Well, let's just say, I can't wait until next year.

Julianne and Brenden were so gracious, even through rushing to get kids everywhere.  They  willingly took the time to pack us all in the car and drive to Salt Lake Saturday night (amid massive traffic and crowds), to walk on the grounds of Temple Square under the breathtaking Christmas lights.  After this year, the temple will go under a reconstruction for four years, and the lights most likely won't be as wondrous.  All with happy hearts, happy kids, and even a gelato stop in the middle of 30 degree weather!  We appreciated the trip SO much!  As Randy and I get older, simple things become more meaningful.  This was a Christmas to remember.  We got home last night in time for the beautiful Christmas Devotional from SLC.

This morning, I participated in a Light the World RS group at the nursing home.  Carianne had volunteered she and I to play a duet (Jingle Bells).  We sang and shared, wearing our Christmas colors to the hilt.  A wonderful program was given in a spontaneous style, which made for sweeter.  At the end, Maddie, Lettie, and Eliza sang "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" all decked in their Santa hats.  Yay for sharing Christmas with united smiles, songs, and happiness.

Tonight I am headed to the Higley Center of Performing Arts to see Henry perform with his school.  He loves to sing, too.  Thank goodness for Christmas and the chances to Falalalala!  And for children.  And for grandchildren.

It's only December 9.  I have enough Christmas in me to carry me through.
Our children will be spread apart for Christmas day.  That's OK.  We do see them a lot, which we are extremely thankful for.  We'll be fine, especially with memories implanted so far.

I'll be busy wrapping and taping myself with their joyful gifts of music, especially the carols proclaiming His Holy birth.  And drying my eyes when I think of their sweet angelic voices.

"Mom" Clawson

Tonight at 8:10 sweet Grandma Clawson passed away peacefully. 
This morning, hospice was scheduled to come by Jean's.  The family was anxious, knowing Grandma had become weaker and weaker in recent days.  Did we still have hope?
Randy received a phone call from Jean this morning after hospice left.  She was calling all the siblings.  Our hope was running out.  Her 94 years on this earth was close to an end.
Randy tearfully packed a bag and headed off to Safford, connecting with one last brother, Allen.

The day has been heartfelt.  I'm sure anyone close to her clung to the thought of eternal life.  It takes a time like this to ponder blessings we have all received from knowing and loving her. 

I for one have pondered today about memories of her I was privileged to have from age 26.  Randy came along about then, and I was so pleased to meet his loving mother.  He was going to ASU, but his home was in Safford.  It was a beautiful home, lovingly decorated and designed by Olive.  She had an eye for comfort, great taste, and pink.  Their home had been selected to show as a Christmas House for a charity the year before we were married.  It was the first time I had been there.  It was a Christmas fairyland, and she was tickled pink.  Olive was offered any item to keep as gesture of thanks for the use of their home.  She chose a beautiful pink satin bedspread that had made a statement on their king size bed.  It remains on their bed tonight as I reminisce.

I will always be so thankful for the fast friendship Olive and CB were to my parents.  I was the first to marry in my family, but there was instant friendship and love between them that made for a lot of harmony on both their parts. We took some fun family trips together with both our parents.  And each set of parents was always interested in how the other set was doing.  They considered each other valued friends.

There was never a Thanksgiving, or family gathering that didn't include a kitchen full of lovingly prepared food.  And oh, the heavenly smell.  Big dinners rarely catered to only their children or grandchildren.  So many meals we gathered together with strangers some of us had never met.  A home teacher, a new friend, a long lost cousin, someone in the ward without family to share with. 

I love Randy, and because I do I have always called Olive, "Mom".  I love her dearly, too.  She has shown such interest in me and our little family.  I could never walk into her home without her standing to greet me the minute she saw me.  I always felt a part. 

She had a thing for being cheerful.  She would remind us how important it was to be cheerful.  She was. 

And when we were ready to leave, she would stand again and walk us out to the car, never letting us leave without a big hug and a look of love in her eyes.

I will continue to reflect on her goodness for years to come.  But the last time I saw her was a little over a week ago.  Carianne, Vita, and all their children drove with Randy and I to Safford to visit Grandma C.  It was important to them, which I am so grateful for.  We hovered around her in the hospital bed we weren't used to.  It was placed right in front of the window of Jeans back door.  So she could see the sun and the sky she loved.  And so she could greet loved ones like us with a huge smile and a listening ear.  Her arms reached out to hug each of us with love.  It didn't matter if some of us were unfamiliar, she knew we loved her and more than that, we knew she loved us.  We laughed and talked and showed off our dolls and treasures and if we had stayed, she still would have soaked in our stories.  As we walked out the door, with waves of love, I will always remember not wanting to look away.  The smile on her face was as bright as it ever was.  And she waved until I thought her arm would ache.  I'll never forget leaving and witnessing such a sweet farewell.

I know there is a heaven where we can be together again eternally.  I know that she was greeted in a grand reunion tonight by her loving husband, CB.  And her two beautiful small children who have missed her until now, and she them.  Her parents and many others that have been cheerleading for her for a long time.  She lived a full and grateful life.  Always prayerful and obedient.  She will gain a beautiful reward.  I will miss her influence, hugs, and cheerfulness.  But I know she is in a beautiful place, with people that have saved a seat for her.  She is happy.  And like the Primary song sings, "You've served me well, my little child.  Come into my arms to stay."

A quote from our DUP meeting last Monday:

In so much as there is hardness

put it away

for it is like a seed which,

 if it be cultivated grows To maturity,

 and when it brings forth fruit

 it brings forth hardness and tyranny. 

We should Always endeavor

to plant peace and kindness.

 

Heber C. Kimball

 

 

 

Yesterday was a good day.  We attended a funeral of a giant of a man we knew from Corona 2nd ward.  Steve Lepetich was honored thoughtfully by each of his children.  Their children all went to school with our children.  He was a practicing OBGYN in Tempe and Gilbert who had delivered over 18,000 babies, much to the joy of that many mothers, fathers, grandparents brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles.  For 34 years, his tender care was profoundly felt as each child, to him, came straight from God.  He knew he was working on earth to deliver heaven sent babies, and everyone in the delivery room felt it.  Many of his writings were shared, something that was new to a neighbor or coworker, but all too familiar to his children.  He influenced so many people in the church and out.  The Stake center was filled to capacity.  He was one year younger than Randy and I.  Two weeks ago, suddenly he had a heart attack and passed away.  You would think a tragedy like this would affect his own dear family, but the shock rippled on to friends, mothers to be, church and work associates, etc.  After learning more about him yesterday, it was clear that he was always anxiously engaged in good things (family, love of God, nature, life).  He didn't waste time.  The program was touching, as it showed photos of so much and so many he loved.  The back cover was what impressed me the most.  There was a perfectly placed family photo of he and his wife (Shelley), sitting with his 94 year old mother in between them in the front.  Behind them stood each of their married children and all of  their 14 grandchildren.  The photo had been taken last December, just two months ago. 

It's times like this when I realize life is short.  There is nothing like a real tragedy to overshadow some minor drama (blown way out of proportion) that reminds you what is really important in life.  People, especially the ones you promised to love and cherish for eternity are the prime importance , no matter what.  The smiles, the forgiveness, the serving, the love beyond measure because no one can take their place, the golden rule, the friendship, the peace, the catching when one of you falls, the not giving up on eternal things...It's times like this when life seems so short. 

Also, on the back of the cover, was a poem he penned.
 "Reflections in windows reflecting our lives.
So why don't people try to open their eyes.
 Look for the beauty in each tiny while.
 And answer that window with a true friendly smile."

Life's minor hurdles don't matter.  Our loved ones do.

I am soft to these inspirations at this point in my life.  Each one of our children, I love so dearly.  And now there are sons and daughter in laws who love those same children fiercely, which brings me peace.  And don't get me started on our precious grandchildren.  I'm thankful for reflections.  I'm thankful for my countless blessings.  I am thankful for my family. I am thankful for eternal life.  I'm thankful.

Activity Day - February 6, 2019

Jesus stood tall Because He was prepared To withstand the temptations, So hollow. We, too can stand strong As we stuff our souls full Of the teachings He wants us to follow. We had 8 girls here. I made manicotti ahead. We talked about hollow things, comparing them to Satan and his "hollow" temptations that Christ was able to overcome because of His strength in being prepared from a young boy, through Heavenly Father's plan. A big manicotti noodle was shown as a visual aid to encourage the girls not to be like that (Satan). Then I served the warm manicotti and compared the stuffing inside (cheeses, spinach, onions, sauce, etc.) to the Savior's strength. We talked about how we can build our souls with "stuffing" in our day (scripture study, service, kindness, commandments, etc.),so we are padded with strength to be like Him. Each girl ate every bit except one, who was leery of the tiny spinach pieces. Then we played pick up straws (hollow) around the table. I sent them home with a manicotti recipe and this poem I wrote. For a treat, I cut into a hollow chocolate apple to seal the point. It was depressing. But I cut it into 8 sizable pieces; no caramel, no nuts, no peanut butter, no truffle, etc.... Don't be a manicotti!