one year ago today

March 28, 2010 was the last time I had a coherent conversation with my mother. I was with my sister Susan in Pennsylvania; I had arrived the day prior (a Saturday) to celebrate Susan's birthday with her. We called Mom after church on Sunday, the 28th, to tell her about our fun shopping day together the day before. We told her about our birthday purchases, talked about what we were making for dinner, and what we were planning to do the next day--all of the everyday details we so enjoyed sharing. Mom said she hadn't felt like going to church that day, saying that she was just oddly tired and didn't feel well. I expressed my concern, said my usual I-Love-You goodbye, and hung up after promising to call again tomorrow.

The next morning my mother suffered a massive cerebral hemorrhage. Later that evening I was told over the phone by her attending physician that there was nothing more that could be done to save her and that I should get home as soon as possible if I wanted to see my mother before she died. She never regained consciousness. By the time Susan and I arrived home the following day, plans had been made to move Mom to hospice, where she died two days later.

As the anniversary of my mother's death approaches, I feel anew the sharp pain of missing her steadfast physical presence in my life. I long to talk to her about all of the things we used to share, and I can't tell you the number of times I've wanted to phone heaven for a quick answer to a recipe question.

In thinking about how I want to remember or mark the anniversary of her death, I remember that Mom always thought that spending ponderous time at a graveside was rather pointless and overly-sentimental (she was not the sentimental type). So--while I do plan to visit her grave and leave flowers (despite the fact that I can hear her in my mind saying, "Oh Honey, you don't need to bother with that!") I have decided that the best way I can honor her passing is to give service. Mom was always looking for ways to serve others. Even in her later years, with failing eyesight and aching joints, she would bake treats for her neighbors and friends, and for me. She was the true embodiment of the Relief Society motto, Charity Never Faileth.

On April 1st I'll be making homemade bread, using one of my mother's favorite recipes, and delivering it to people who might need a little cheer. I love you, Mom.

I was born of goodly parents

Today is my parents' 65th wedding anniversary.

We didn't have a big party or a fancy cake. We did what we always do--and enjoy doing on Sunday--attend church and have dinner together.

One of our Sacrament Meeting speakers talked about the importance of keeping the Sabbath Day holy, and the strength that comes from doing so. I experienced such a wave of gratitude for my parents, for their steadfastness, for their teaching me correct principles. I am so grateful that I have never doubted their commitment to the Savior or the depth and strength of their testimonies. They have provided for me such a sure foundation of faith, one which has been a strength to me my entire life.

I have never doubted their love for me. The strength of their love makes me feel safe and secure, even as an adult. I feel so blessed to be a part of their everyday lives now and try not to take that blessing for granted.

This picture was actually taken a couple of weeks ago on my Dad's 89th birthday. I love to see the love they have and express for each other. It is such a blessing to grow up in a home where love is freely expressed and shared.

Thanks, Mom and Dad. Thank you for staying married through good times and bad. Thank you for standing by me through good times and bad. Thank you for showing the world that two people can stay faithfully and happily married for 65 years. I love you both.

happy 15th birthday John!

I always feel a little sorry for John on his birthday. It seems almost anti-climactic after the hoopla of the holidays, and some years--this one included--school has already started after the break. Happy Birthday. It's cold. It's January. Have fun at school.

Thankfully, John is easy to please and a good sport about the whole post-holiday-birthday thing. He started the day with a traditional box of Birthday Cereal, which in his case is Marshmallow Mateys. Inspired by his sisters, he decided he wants to fix up his bedroom for his main birthday gift. Before he came home from school, I made his bed with the new bedding that will inspire the palette for his room re-do. After a stop at Starbucks for a vanilla frappuccino (a treat--we never go there) he was pleasantly surprised with not only the new bedding ensemble, but also two new bed pillows from Emily. (His old ones were frightfully limp and lifeless!)

My mom came over later, homemade cake in hand, to help make dinner. Since my dad's birthday is the day before John's, and since we didn't want to make a roast with mashed potatoes and gravy two nights in a row (they both have the same favorite meal), we combined the family birthday dinners (more about my darling 89-year-old dad in an upcoming post).

My favorite gift for John was a larger-than-life framed photo of Moosey. The frame originally had a picture of Frank Sinatra in it and was on the clearance rack at Penneys. I replaced Frank with a black and white 12 x 12 photo of our adored pet cuddled up in her blanket. It will look perfect in his soon-to-be-painted room!


In addition to things for his room, he received an iTunes gift card (from Charlotte), a charger for his iPod, and a memory card to add to his cell phone. Mark selected the latter gift and John was beyond thrilled. I didn't even know you could buy memory upgrades for cell phones. It's a boy thing, I guess.

At the dinner table, when we each said something we love about John, I told him that I'm thankful and feel fortunate that I trust him. I appreciate that he wants to do what's right, even in a world where doing what's right isn't always "cool." I also love John for always telling me that he loves me--even when I drop him off at school, and even when he talks to me on the phone. I feel fortunate indeed to be his mother.

Another blessing? Look at what's waiting for us for tomorrow's breakfast:

'tis the season!

Wow. Two weeks ago I was just getting home from PA and it was Mark's birthday. Fourteen days, three programs, two parties, one concert, our first big snow storm, and eight rolls of wrapping paper later, it's four days before Christmas and all I've posted about is my one very lovely and long-awaited nap.

So, lest I neglect to document the events of the season, here's a not-so-brief synopsis:

• December 10th: Relief Society Christmas party. Martissa, April, and I put together a program of stories and songs--about 50 minutes worth--that we performed for our ward's sisters. I love singing with these two because they can both read music and hold their own parts. It's so much fun to sing harmony!

Three divas, with our accompanist Julia.

• December 11th: Sarah's Fourth Grade Holiday Program. I bought Sarah a pretty Christmas dress that I found at Macy's in Pennsylvania, but it was too big. We squeezed in a trip to the local Macy's in the afternoon to exchange it. Even though we couldn't find the identical dress, we found another that we liked and Sarah wore it to her elementary school program that night. With her hair done in hot rollers and in her new dress, she was definitely the cutest one in the recorder ensemble! I enjoyed her program, even though the gym was full and I had to stand the entire time.

• December 12th: John's high school choir concert. This was a delightful evening--the best concert at WRHS since my favorite choir teacher left seven or eight years ago.
  

You know, I just don't get tired of seeing that boy in a tux! (Shown here with his friend Devin.)

• December 13th: Ward Christmas Party. I was on the committee for this one, so it took up large part of my day. We had a chili supper and program which I was again a part of (due to the fact that my mother was also on the planning committee). No photos of this event, which is just as well, as the program is best left a memory.

• December 14th: Major snow storm blows into town! (Thankfully, after my car was unloaded from the previous night's party.) I talked Sarah and John into shoveling the driveway and walk after church--not their favorite task, to say the least.
  

• December 15th-20th: Power shopping to the max! My feet are eternally grateful for early Christmas present of new Dansko clogs. Lots of late-night wrapping.

• December 16th: After an early-morning stop at my parents' house to help my Dad upload the Christmas card photo I took the day before, I find that my car won't start. Will. Not. Start. Bad start to a long day. Their photo turned out cute, though.

• December 18th: Charlotte and Emily catch an early flight from SLC! Home for 2+ weeks!

• December 20th: BYU bowl game. Our friends, the Buehler's came over to watch (sad outcome for Cougar fans). We had enchiladas for dinner, and we all enjoyed playing with their darling one-year-old baby girl.

• December 21st: Christmas Sunday. I love the Sunday before Christmas! Today's Sacrament Meeting was especially meaningful to me because my parents were the speakers and Charlotte and Emily played a beautiful violin/piano duet. I was reminded that the real reason we celebrate Christmas has very little--if anything--to do with concerts, parties, shopping, or wrapping. I am so grateful for the birth of the Savior and for His love for me. I feel more motivated to reach out to others, to be more loving at home, and to drop the stress that so often accompanies the holiday season.

And I even managed to get our neighbor Nick to get this family photo before everyone changed out of their Sunday clothes!

Life is good.

better late than never

Since returning from Susan's late Sunday night, I've been running fast trying to play "catch-up," with seemingly little success. It feels like having to jump onto a treadmill that is already moving at an alarmingly rapid pace and having to just start running as fast as I can without really stopping to think, in an effort to merely keep from falling off and hurting myself. And wouldn't you know that this week is one of those with commitments every night! They're all enjoyable things I've been looking forward to, but I confess I'm rather tired to face such a hectic week on the heels of a tiring, albeit fun, one.

Blogging, of course, has been on my list. Mark's forty-seventh birthday was on Monday. Thankfully, Mark is easy to please. We celebrated by having a simple steak dinner at home with just the kids and my parents. It was quieter than most Wood birthday celebrations, but I rather enjoyed the change of pace. His cake of choice was homemade banana cake, courtesy of my mom--the Master Cake Maker.

Thank goodness I had planned ahead and started his "10 Things" album a few weeks ago. At least I had one gift to wrap. I also gave him a coupon for a date with his own personal shopper--me--to buy new clothes for his new size (he has lost over forty pounds in the last year--woo hoo! Way to go!).

Here he is with his album, which was is in a 6x6 format, black and cream with accents of red. One of my favorites of his Ten Things is number 10:

• "I love you for loving me the way I am, and for who I am. I love feeling that your love for me is wholly unrelated to the state or condition of my hair, my weight, or even my mood. When at times I see only the glaring flaws within myself, you see something better. Thank you."

And here he is with me, his wife of 23 years. Happy birthday, honey! I love you.

worth her weight in gold

I went into Sarah's bedroom this morning to wake her up as usual and was greeted with a particularly surly, snarling response to my "Good morning, honey!" I wondered how I would ever get her up and going without starting World War III. She was not only non-responsive to my wake-up call, she was downright nasty.

Enter Moosey, a.k.a. Cutest Dog Created by the Hand of God.

Moosey promptly jumped onto Sarah's bed--tail wagging--and wedged her nose under Sarah's arm-blockade. Within a matter of seconds Sarah was giggling, sitting up in bed, and talking about breakfast.
Moosey the miracle worker. I love that dog.

blogger in training

I was in the basement sewing this afternoon when I hear Sarah run in the house through the patio door and fly down the stairs--the urgency in her voice making her words unintelligible. Steeling myself for some woeful tale of misdeeds and/or mistreatment from her brother John (who she had been working with raking leaves in the backyard), I suddenly realized that her tone was one of excitement rather than of injustice. She had my attention now.

"You've got to document this!" she exclaims while urging me from my sewing. "Come on, you've GOT to document all the leaves we raked!"

They single-handedly raked and bagged four large black trash bags-full of leaves. And didn't fight with each other while doing so. And they didn't even whine about doing the job. And they made a point to have me take a photo for "documentation" purposes.

Will wonders never cease?