blogger to the rescue!

My mother was well-known for her famously-delicious homemade baked goods--especially her cakes, pies, and breads. Of the many things I miss about her, one is her freshly-baked bread. She made it often and shared it freely, as it was one of the things she could still do given her visual impairment. I would commission loaves from her to deliver to ladies from church, or just because I was in the mood for one of my favorites. As I would thank her profusely when she handed over the still-warm loaves she would say something like, "Oh, thank you! You don't know how much I love having something to do, and helping you in the process."

Every year during musical season she would spend about a week making and freezing bread of all kinds to take to the kids during one of their long rehearsal nights. Bread Night is now legendary, and something all of the kids look forward to with anticipation. This photo was taken in March 2009:

Not long ago I realized, with some degree of panic, that I did not have some of my mother's recipes for my favorite breads. I enjoy making bread, too, but my mother had been the one to make it most often and I guess there were a few kinds that slipped through the cracks of my recipe books. Thankfully, as I was reading Miranda's blog one day I came across a post about my mother's buttermilk bread. I almost cried with relief to have the recipe right there for the taking! It's one of my favorites.

So last weekend, to go with a homemade pot of soup, I made my mother's buttermilk bread. I think she would have been proud of the outcome.

clogging blogging

Now that Mark has computer up and running again knock on wood) I can finally begin to attempt blog catch-up, starting with Sarah's national clogging competition at the end of May.

My good friend Linda drove to Utah with Sarah and I. We were making good time, and I had just remarked on it to Linda when she said, "Well, I hate to tell you this, but I think we've got a problem." Not good words to hear on a road trip.

The temperature gauge on her oh-so-reliable Subaru looked like this (aren't you impressed I thought to take a photo?):

After a stop at a Grease Monkey in Rifle, Colorado, where the car's fluids were replenished, we were on our way to Grand Junction, where we would have the car looked at by a Subaru dealer. (It turned out that nothing was wrong at all--perhaps just a loose radiator cap.) We laughed at this Grease Monkey sign, which of course would not have been so funny if the car had not been so easily fixed.

Charlotte got to spend the weekend with us, too, which proved an added bonus. We went shopping for wedding necessities on Friday night and then went to Pleasant Grove to stay with Linda's hospitable relatives.

The morning of Saturday's competition dawned cloudy, COLD, and rainy. Did Utah not get the memo that it was ALMOST JUNE? Linda, having packed for warmer weather, had to make a quick run to Kohl's for pants and socks before we left for Lagoon--the site of Clogging Nationals. We were all a bit skeptical upon arriving and parking at the amusement park, as evidenced by Charlotte's "I'm dreading being cold all day" expression.

I didn't take many photos of the actual dancing because I would rather watch the dance live than through the lens of my camera, if that makes sense. I'm really grateful that I have no cause in life that requires me to wear silver lame pants. I did enjoy watching the team perform in the tops I was hired to sew for them.

Sarah's team did really well, earning a Best Overall Team (in the intermediate division) for one of their dances, and the Best Overall Studio for their entire division! We celebrated that night by having dinner at the famed In-and-Out Burger.

Sarah looks a little too grown-up in her stage makeup, don't you think?

It was a short but fun trip. Now we get a break from clogging classes until August--that is, unless Sarah hears a toe-tapping tune on the radio and starts one of her routines in the kitchen, or down the aisles of Costco, or in the driveway. . . .

woe is me

Good grief--you'd think it was Musical Season again, given the dearth of postings on my blog of late. And what's more, our main computer at home is down--you know, the one with ALL OF MY PHOTOS ON IT. Despite Mark's valiant and ongoing effort to heal the blasted contraption, I am having to check email, blogs, etc. on various and sundry other computers when I get the chance.

I'm about ready to try my friend Paula's technique of showing the computer that I have a hammer and am not afraid to use it if necessary.

*sigh*

I hate computers.

Mother's Day, sans Mother

I had been dreading today, Mother's Day, since the day my mother died a little over one month ago. It turns out it wasn't so bad after all. My church meetings were uplifting (as opposed to the sometimes guilt-inducing or overly-sentimental Mother's Day diatribes), and I spent the day with my family--including two of my sisters. After church we drove to Ft. Logan, the cemetery where Mother is buried. We weren't sure if her headstone would be up or not and were pleasantly surprised to find that it was.

Since the graves in Mother's section are all relatively new, they don't yet have sod. Hopefully it won't be long before they do. There is something inherently pleasing to me about the orderly rows of identical headstones in the military cemetery.

Susan arranged a beautiful bouquet of flowers we took to church for the chapel, then came home and rearranged them--from the tall glass vase they were in to a low basket--to decorate the grave (better for not tipping over, should a breeze come up). It was, without doubt, the most stylish arrangement in the entire cemetery and one Mother would definitely love.

My dad held up well today and said that he felt Mother's presence at the graveside. It was a peaceful, happy feeling.

Susan and Fred came from Pennsylvania for the weekend--that's a Mother's Day gift in itself! Susan and I spent Friday and Saturday going through Mother's clothing and personal affects, sorting piles for distribution to family members, friends, etc. There were a few tearful moments, but more laughter and smiles as we reminisced together.

Karen came out for the day (Sunday) and was delighted with the things she received from Mother's stylish bounty! One of the items Mother wanted her to have was her gold wedding band. Dad bought a chain for it so Karen can wear it now without waiting to have it sized.

Mother had designated me as the recipient of her diamond ring, a beautiful ring that to me symbolizes 65 years of committed, loving marriage. My Mother's Day gift was to have the jeweler solder it between my two wedding bands. If you look closely, you can see the ring on my finger in the photo below.

Susan brought along some water to give the arrangement one last drink before we left. (Yes, those are fresh limes in the arrangement!)

Mother's headstone sentiment is a fitting tribute to the live she lived and the way in which she loved us all: Charity Never Faileth.

Today I feel grateful to see my mother's legacy living on in the women in my life, and hopefully in me. I love you, Mom.

six for saturday

1) This is the laundry pile that greeted me this morning. My dryer can't quite keep up with the washer, so the entire process takes a bit longer. Now it's 7 p.m. and I'm not quite half-way through it (all of the white fluffy stuff on the floor is costume laundry from the show--yes, I realize the show closed over six weeks ago).

2) Sarah has another sore throat, not sure if it's strep, but I think her tonsils are going to have to come out. She has been getting sick about once every month or six weeks. This is the pile of Puffs left in her wake. I can't seem to convince her that she can use each tissue for more than one wipe of the nose.

3) We took the car in today for a pre-road-trip diagnostic check. Mark says it runs sluggish when accelerating. I think only men (at least in my family) can hear car noises; as long as it starts and the A/C works, I think everything's fine. It turns out it needs new spark plugs and the fuel lines flushed. Who knew?

I like our local mechanic, Dustin. He owns the Lube and Latte.

4) John went on a Boy Scout camp out last night. They hiked into the campsite with all of their gear. This is John before he left on Friday afternoon (note Sarah's paper chain bedroom door curtain in the background--her own design):

And this is where his stuff got dropped this afternoon before he crashed for a nap on his bed:

5) I savored the last piece of my birthday cake (it had been patiently waiting for me in the freezer) which was a little more emotional than usual since it was the last cake my mother ever made. If I had known that when I had written the description on the Ziplock bag I certainly would not have added the exclamation point!

6) My dad generously took us all to Red Robin for dinner tonight. He and Mom used to like to go there for fish and chips regularly. They would always share an order, finding it to be just the right amount.

Tonight I shared the order with him.

tender mercies

As I resume the routines of my life, defining a new "normal" without the steadfast presence of my mother, I confess I have been somewhat daunted in approaching my first post-funeral blog post. Michelle, Jessie, Susan, Emily, Charlotte, and Claire have done so in ways that are at once moving and comforting. I find it a bit overwhelming, however, to try to recount and capture all of my feelings of the past two weeks so I have decided instead to focus on the "tender mercies" of the past two weeks--those gifts that the Lord has given me throughout this sad time to buoy me up and reaffirm that I am loved by Him and that He is mindful of my needs.

A few years ago (well, five to be exact) Elder Bednar gave a Conference talk I have never forgotten titled The Tender Mercies of the Lord. In it he quotes a scripture from the Book of Mormon, 1 Nephi 1:20:

"But behold, I, Nephi, will show unto you that the tender mercies of the Lord are over all those whom he hath chosen, because of their faith, to make them mighty even unto the power of deliverance.” Elder Bednar goes on to say, ". . I testify that the tender mercies of the Lord are real and that they do not occur randomly or merely by coincidence."

Mother always said that gratitude was the least stressful emotion to experience, and I have found this to be instrumental in my grieving process. When I feel empty and sad I need only start listing the Tender Mercies shown me to feel better. Here are some with which I have been blessed over the past two weeks:

• Mother didn't linger with disability or suffer long. I know without doubt that this is the way she ultimately wanted to go.

• My birthday was just three days before her collapse. I spent the entire day with her, shopping, cooking, and doing the things we loved to do together. She made a German Chocolate cake that was nearly 6" tall--my favorite kind of cake and her best ever.

• She died in the Spring--Easter weekend to be exact, reminding us all of the gift of the Atonement and resurrection. I'm so grateful that my first months without her will be full of bright sunny days and budding life outside. I'm also glad to have several months of adjustment before I have to face my first-ever holiday season without her.

• I was out of town when she collapsed and went to the hospital. While this may not necessarily seem like a good thing, in retrospect I am so grateful that I was with my dear sister Susan when we got the news that she would not live. There was nothing I could have done (more than was already being done) to help or save her had I been here, and having the strength of my sister's love was such a comfort.

• Although we had no idea where one of my sisters has been living in the Denver area, we were able to locate her in time for her to see Mother before she died and to all be present at the time of Mother's death.

• I have friends who would do--and have done--anything I've asked or needed of them, at the time that I really needed it. I am incredibly humbled to be the recipient of so much compassionate service, so freely and lovingly given.

• The day Mother died in hospice care her nurse just happened to be one of my good friends from high school--someone who knew what a beautiful, gracious, and kind woman Mother was.

• I have always said that if either of my parents died tomorrow, my kids would have firmly-grounded memories of them as an everyday part of their lives. Because we have been privileged to live near my parents for the past 21 years, my children will carry many fond and happy memories of their Grandma.

• I have no regrets in my relationship with my mother.

• When Susan and I went to select flowers for the casket arrangement and luncheon tables, we were told we could come back the day before the service to pick out the luncheon flowers and glass containers. When we arrived to do so, no one had any idea what we were talking about and the wholesale part of the florist--the part we needed--was closed. Miraculously--and I mean miraculously--we got what we needed anyway.

• Mother was buried in a military cemetery (my Dad served in the Navy). The "graveside" service was actually held in a glassed-in pavilion and when it was over I felt somewhat disconcerted to drive off leaving my mother's casket behind. The funeral director drove us past the place where Mother's grave was being prepared so we would know where to look for it the next time we came. We parked for minute to note the location in the cemetery. As we sat in the car looking on, we noticed an arrangement of flowers being pulled out of the back of a black van parked near the newly-dug grave. They looked a lot like Mother's flowers, but no--we thought, that couldn't possibly be hers. Then workers pulled a beautiful pecan casket out of the van and placed it on the scaffolding above the grave. It was indeed Mother's casket and we got to see it being lowered into the ground. I have no idea how the arrival of Mother's casket to the graveside preceded ours, but it was a gift of closure and peace--to me, but especially to my father--to witness its descent into the newly-turned earth.

• As I sat down to begin writing this post this morning, I found this treat that had been left in my carry-on bag from my trip home from Philadelphia:

Again, quoting Elder Bednar:

"We should not underestimate or overlook the power of the Lord’s tender mercies. The simpleness, the sweetness, and the constancy of the tender mercies of the Lord will do much to fortify and protect us in the troubled times in which we do now and will yet live. When words cannot provide the solace we need or express the joy we feel, when it is simply futile to attempt to explain that which is unexplainable, when logic and reason cannot yield adequate understanding about the injustices and inequities of life, when mortal experience and evaluation are insufficient to produce a desired outcome, and when it seems that perhaps we are so totally alone, truly we are blessed by the tender mercies of the Lord and made mighty even unto the power of deliverance." (see 1 Ne. 1:20)

Today I give thanks for the Lord's tender mercies.

Mother