A Day of Reflection and Contrast

I had a late night last night, and was feeling a little down.  Sometimes temple trips are planned for just the right time it seems, because we had planned to go to the temple today, and I was in desperate need of the peace that I find there.

After sleeping about six hours, I logged on the computer to find the weekly e-mail from our missionary in Brazil.  I didn't think we would get it before we left for the temple, so that was a pleasant surprise.  It was particularly nice since it is the best e-mail or letter we have received so far.  She appears to be thriving -- and I would know if she wasn't because my children aren't very good at "putting on a happy face."

We arrived at the temple later than we anticipated, only 15 minutes prior to the session.  We were asked to be the witness couple, which was wonderful because we have never had a chance to do that in the Sacramento Temple, although we frequently did it in the Oakland Temple.  I was surprised that we arrived that late and they were still looking for a witness couple.  After a beautiful session, we saw our Stake Patriarch, Brother Judd, in the celestial room.  He is also a sealer in the temple, so he asked us to do a sealing session.  Danny and I both love sealing families together for eternity in the temple, and it is particularly wonderful when Brother Judd is the sealer.  Although, Brother Judd did embarrass me in the middle of the session by thanking me in front of the other people in the room for spending several years helping him type his family history.  At the end of the session, I made a point of telling those same people that Brother Judd had left out the part about it being one of the most spiritual experiences of my life.  I left the temple with such peace in my heart -- the kind you only find in the temple.

Danny and I went to lunch at Brookfields.  We had a really quiet, pleasant time there.  Before we left the restaurant, I went to the ladies' room.  By stark contrast to the rest of the morning, there were two women in the restroom discussing their impending divorces.  It struck me that these two women were older than me; one in her mid-60's, and the other in her mid-70's.  One woman said that she was just now getting divorced because she had felt "trapped" in her marriage for years because she didn't feel self-sufficient or prepared financially to "do it on her own."  The other said that she had not felt "trapped," that she appreciated the good things, but that there were things she wanted to change.  She said she'd spent 15 years thinking about this (yes, you heard that right, 15 YEARS), and she just felt this was now the right time to strike out on her own.  It hit me that if she had spent the last 15 years working on her marriage instead of planning for her divorce, she might be happier.

Since we were on that side of town, and since Veterans' Day is in two days, we decided to stop by the cemetery and put flowers on Matt's grave (my stepson), and to the other cemetery to put flowers on Danny's friend Cy's grave.  Cy passed away this last year.  He was a prisoner of war in World War II, and it seemed appropriate to decorate his grave as well.  I drove to Save Mart so Danny could pick up some flowers.  I waited in the car while he ran into the store, and I couldn't stop thinking about the stark contrast of our sealing session in the temple to the conversation in the ladies' room which I overheard.  It was a little surreal.

Our experience in Mt. Vernon Cemetery put all those thoughts to rest.  My husband is the most kind and loving man I've ever met.  I don't think he's ever gone through a day in his life without serving someone.  After we decorated Matt's grave, Danny looked up and realized there was something else we needed to do.  He didn't have to say anything to me because we've been married long enough that I know what he's thinking.  Not far from Matt's grave are three graves without stones.  They just have small markers.  There was a bunch of flowers lying on one of those markers.  Most gravestones have built-in vases for flowers, but the little markers don't have them.  Apparently, whoever left the flowers on the marker didn't know that the office has plastic vases available on stakes that can be pushed into the ground.  Danny's trained landscaper eyes quickly searched the area for a place where someone mowing the lawn would throw a plastic vase to get it out of the way.  It wasn't more than five seconds before he spotted one, picked it up, and headed to the water fountain for water.  I picked up the bunch of flowers, cut off the stems somewhat, and we placed the flowers in the plastic vase and placed it next to the little marker.  We then drove on down the street a couple of miles to East Lawn Cemetery to decorate Cy's grave.

We drove home listening to a Mormon Tabernacle Choir CD.  Words weren't necessary between us.  It had been a good day.  We were left to our own thoughts.  We were left to contemplate and ponder the sacred experiences of the day.

I'm so grateful for the knowledge that families are eternal.  I can't even imagine at this point in our lives thinking about divorce instead of growing old together and looking forward to what comes after this life on earth.  As discouraging as some days get, and as frustrated as we get sometimes as parents, we have hope.  I'm so thankful for hope.  I'm grateful that Heavenly Father let me overhear that conversation today.  It was a great reminder that I have it pretty good.  I'm so blessed!

Marriage Changes Over Time

Marriage changes over time.  The first 10 years are spent getting to know one another, your quirks, your idiosyncracies, and the "let's not go there" topics.  Children are usually thrown into the mix, which makes life interesting.  Somehow during those years you learn to stick together or the kids will sink the ship.

The next 10 years are spent trying to figure out how you got where you are, and whether you can weather the storm until the kids are gone.  "Endure 'till the end" is beginning to look like "Oh snap, what have we done?!"  This period usually has teenagers making life seem more complicated than you had ever imagined.

The third 10-year period is a time to "reassess" and set new goals.  It's a time to get to know one another all over again because you've spent so much time raising children that you've forgotten how to have a conversation that doesn't center around one of your children's problems.  It's a time to sit back and decide how the rest of your lives will be spent.

The fourth 10-year period brings so many changes.  For the first time in your married life, you can actually spend time together!  This brings adjustments, of course, but for the most part, it is a sweet period.  We are beginning the 5th year of this period.  One of us is retired, and the other one is not.  For a few more months, we still have our youngest child living at home -- though she doesn't spend much time there.  We hardly see ever see her.  We're looking at more adjustments over the next five years.  Will I still be working?  Full-time?  Part-time?  Will we serve a mission for our church?  Will we travel?  Will we still be in good health?  These are questions that will all be answered soon.  In the meantime, we cherish this time together.  We enjoy watching our adult children in their journeys, and we bond with our beautiful grandchildren.

I don't know what the fifth 10-year period will bring because we're not there yet, but I anticipate that it will be even sweeter than this time.  The chances are that one of us will probably be caring for the other one at some point.  That can be rather challenging, but I think it will also be a sweet time together.  Isn't that what love is all about?

I think Robert Browning said it best:

"Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made.
Our times are in His hand who saith,
'A whole I planned, youth shows but half;
Trust God:  See all, nor be afraid!'"

The Clock Keeps Ticking

Picture from here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grandfather_clock

I'm getting old. I know that's not news to those who know me, but I seem to be reminded lately on a daily basis. It's not a bad thing; in fact, I'm rather enjoying the process. There are, however, some stark realizations along the way.

Last night we received last minute free tickets to a minor league baseball game from someone who couldn't use the tickets. My husband, two daughters, one grandson, and I went for a lovely evening in the ballpark. My grandson is about to celebrate his first birthday. He was the best little guy last night! He had a great time watching people, listening to the music, enjoying the fresh air, and bouncing from one person to the next. Long after his normal bedtime he was still grinning and laughing. I had a really good time enjoying both the game and little Joey last night. By the time I got home, though, I was wiped out! I'm barely functioning today after a night's sleep! What happened to the days when I bounced babies at ballparks and then went home to laundry and cleaning and got up the next morning to do it all over again? As we left the ballpark, I watched my pregnant daughter carry Joey on her hip, with a diaper bag strapped to her back. I knew I should offer to carry Joey, but I just didn't think I'd make it to the parking lot without hyperventillating! So I waited until we were halfway to the car and said, "Do you want Dad to carry Joey?" Knowing Dad is 12 years my senior, she declined. I've experienced this same feeling over the last few months with the rest of my grandchildren. I love them to pieces and cherish each moment I'm with them--but, wow, what a revelation as to my lack of stamina.

A couple of months ago I painted my family room and made new drapes. The room required more than one coat, and I actually accepted help with some of the work. It doesn't seem that long ago that I painted that room all by myself in one day with energy to spare.

There are definite advantages in growing older, though. When I speak, people seem to listen more--as if I might really have something worthwhile to say. The irony is that because I'm getting older, I'm also getting more cynical. If people had listened to me 20-30 years ago, they probably would have found solutions to world problems; now I'm part of the problem.

If I make a mistake, people forgive me because they presume "I'm losing it." What's not to forgive in my "matronly" face? Doesn't everybody love a fuzzy-faced, wrinkled granny?

I've decided to embrace my age. I can't change it, so I may as well go along for the ride. Hiding under the covers is not an option, although wrapping myself in bubble wrap when around my grandkids might be. Just kidding! As the clock keeps ticking, I hope I remember to live each day to the fullest. I don't want to waste a moment wishing I were young again. Each new day should be embraced and appreciated. As the old Timex watch slogan goes, "It takes a licking and keeps on ticking."

My Grandfather's Clock

By Henry Clay Work

My Grandfather’s clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor.
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Yet it weighed not a pennyweight more.

It was bought on the morn on the day that he was born,
It was always his treasure and pride.
But it stopped, short, never to go again,
When the old man died.

CHORUS:
Ninety years without slumbering,
Tick tock tick tock.
His life’s seconds numbering,
Tick tock tick tock.
But it stopped short,
Never to run again,
When the old man died

In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,
Many hours he had spent when a boy.
And through childhood and manhood, the clock seemed to know,
And to share both his grief and his joy.

For it struck 24 when he entered at the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride.
But it stopped, short, never to go again,
When the old man died.

CHORUS:
My grandfather said that of those he could hire,
Tick tock tick tock,
Not a servant so faithful he’d found.
Tick tock tick tock.
For it kept perfect time,
And it had one desire,
At the close of each day to be wound.

As it kept to its place, not a frown upon its face,
As its hands never hung by its side.
But it stopped, short, never to go again,
When the old man died.

It rang an alarm in the still of the night,
An alarm that for years had been dumb.
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight,
That his hour of departure had come.

CHORUS:
Still the clock kept the time,
Tick tock tick tock,
With a soft and muffled chime,
Tick tock tick tock,
As we silently stood by his side.
But it stopped, short, never to go again,
When the old man died.

Mid-Life Splurge

My mother liked milk glass -- you know, those white dishes that were so popular in the 1950's and 1960's. Mom had some nice pieces, and she took care of some milk glass for someone else for a number of years (long story). I was never into dishes as a kid. Maybe it's because I know that anything I touch gets broken.

I inherited a few pieces of Mom's milk glass. I'm not sure why, but they grew on me. A few years ago I began to collect a piece or two here and there. I found some pieces that I liked in thrift stores and garage sales. I placed a $5.00 limit on my little hobby--which worked for a while. Then I discovered a few pieces that I really liked, and I stretched the $5.00 limit somewhat.

There came a day when I decided that I've never done anything crazy in my life. I've never collected anything. I don't really have any hobbies. Danny is retired, and I'm still working. By golly, if I want a piece of milk glass, and I can afford it, I'm going to have it. I began buying a piece or two throughout the year, saving them for Christmas, and then wrapping them up and putting them under the tree from Danny.

Then I discovered eBay. You have no idea how much milk glass is out there! I bought more milk glass. I was ready to quit for a while because the things that I wanted were getting more expensive than I thought I could justify. Hannah decided to get married, and I could now justify buying some nice milk glass pieces so that we could display all the food at the reception on beautiful milk glass. I had so much fun at that wedding!

As I sit here tonight at my computer, I can look up to my right and see three shelves on the wall full of beautiful white dishes. If I turn around, I can see the buffet in the living room filled to capacity with more beautiful white dishes. I can walk out into my family room and find more milk glass in the china cabinet, as well as on top of the china cabinet.

Each piece of glass is beautifully crafted. Some collectors just collect a certain type of milk glass or glass made by a certain company. It doesn't matter to me; it's all beautiful. I have hobnail, grape patterns, leaf patterns, and plain glass. Some pieces have clear glass "ruffles" around the edges. I have dinner plates, goblets, dessert plates, bowls, banana boats, butter dishes, vases, a punch bowl, a platter, a "hen on a nest", a cookie jar, toothpick holders, and compotes. My very favorite piece is a little honey server that I found at Goodwill for $2.00. It's just as cute as a button!

Do I need this milk glass? No, I could do without it. There came a time in my life when I decided that I had scrimped and saved all my life. I have lived very frugally. I've cut out cardboard and placed it in my shoes so that my kids could have new ones. I've recycled old furniture to make new furniture. Baby changers turned into extra closet shelves. A doll house turned into nick knack shelves for a teenager. Catsup (or ketchup if you prefer) was watered down to make it go further. Expensive orange juice was mixed with less expensive lemonade to make it last longer. Milk was added to scrambled eggs. Toothpaste tubes were squeezed tight and then cut open to remove the last little bit from the inside of the tube. I wore sandals 12 months of the year because they were cheap. I wore hand-me-down clothes. I didn't have a warm coat for years.

So for now, I'm going to look around at this milk glass and enjoy it. I don't feel guilty about any of it. I earned it. We're not stingy with our money. Charities love us. But this one thing I'm going to enjoy with no guilt. My kids are raised, my bills are paid, the pantry is full, we've provided for the future, and now I'm going to play a little. There are limits, however. Every piece I buy has to have a purpose. I haven't purchased the lavabo on eBay for that reason. I just can't quite figure out exactly what its useful purpose would be in my home -- but I'm thinking.

Picture above is from Wikipedia.

Strangers in My Photo Albums

A while back my sister-in-law was asking for pictures for an upcoming family event. I found myself flipping through old albums that are falling apart and pictures in a bin that never even made it into albums . . . in my next life. There was one album missing, which bothered me because it is an album that my daughter-in-law, Rachel, put together as a surprise for Danny and me three years ago for our 30th anniversary. I didn't have time to tear up the house looking for it, so I resigned myself to the fact that it didn't have legs and would turn up eventually.

A few days later as I was getting ready for work, out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of the familiar brown spine of the album in the avalanche that is my dresser . . . in my next life.

I flipped through the album on a quick trip down memory lane. The pictures above are our engagement picture (November 1976), and a wedding picture (December 18, 1976). All the way to work I kept thinking about the pictures in that album. Who the heck are those people? They are pictures of Danny and me, but really -- who are they? I don't remember those people. Are we getting old? I don't feel old -- well minus arthritis, healing broken bones, and the occasional tremor in my hands. As I thought about the pictures, there was one picture that made me smile. The picture below was taken by my friend Cecelia the day my family was sealed in the Oakland Temple for time and all eternity. That day was December 18, 1993.