For My Grandchildren

Top Step, Left to Right:  Jocelyn, Michael, Kaitlyn
Bottom Step, Left to Right:  Joey, Ella, Haley

Eli

Ben

Sabrina

Savana

I've seen several people in the last week or so post on social media either how blessed they are to have something written by their grandmother, or how they wish their grandmother had written to them.  I take that as a not so subtle hint from the Spirit that I need to write something for/to my grandchildren.  So this post is for them, a legacy, if you will.

Each of you are special to me.  You are all very different, but all special.  There's not much that I wouldn't do for you.  I wouldn't give you a million dollars even if I had it (yeah, right), because that wouldn't teach you how to be industrious.  Outside of that, I think I'd do anything for any one of you.  I'm not going to speak to you in any particular order of birth or by family -- in fact, I'm going to mix you all up so you don't try to figure out who I love more -- because I love you all.

Savana, I love you because you are easy going.  You are an open book.  You say it like it is, but never in a way that hurts people's feelings.  You are a lovely young woman, and a sweet reminder of your father.  You are so much like him.  I know that you have a testimony of the gospel.  Keep that in your heart for a time when you are able to return to church.  Never forget that you are Heavenly Father's precious daughter, and He loves you.

Jocelyn, every time I look at you I get tickled.  You are such a character and have such great determination.  Nobody is ever going to be able to get the best of you, because you are going to stand up and let the world know you are here.  Don't you ever doubt that you are loved!  Don't you ever think that we didn't love you as much as our other grandchildren because you are adopted. Being adopted makes you special in a whole different way.  Your parents fought hard to get you, and we cheered them on every step of the way.  You are loved!

Kaitlyn, you are quite a little charmer.  You are busy and you definitely have a mind of your own.  This will take you places you can't even dream about.  You have a smile that can melt butter. You are young yet, but I think you have a great sense of "mothering."  I've watched you with my dog, Oreo, and there is a tender connection with animals, too.  You make me smile when I'm near you.

Ben, you have a great personality, and a wonderful smile.  You could sell snow to an Eskimo with that smile.  You have developed a photography interest that could be an answer to your future if you use your talents for good.  If it doesn't turn a profit for you, at least you will have a hobby that you love.  I know that if you use your talents for good, you will find your place in this world -- whatever you end up doing.  As you look for a partner in life, look for someone with a kind heart and a winning attitude.

Joey, you have a heart of gold.  You are kind and loving.  You are a gentle soul.  Be as determined as you are kind.  Stay close to the gospel.  You can have a wonderful wife someday, because you are the kind soul that girls look for in a husband.  So when you go looking for a wife, look for what is on the inside.  You want to marry a kind soul too.

Haley, you are full of bullets and are going to go places.  No one will ever be able to take advantage of you, because you're going to let them have it.  You are so much like me that it's funny.  A word to the wise:  Learn from my mistakes; you don't have to repeat them.  You will take anything bad and put it to work for you.  Don't be afraid to let people get close.  We are different in one way.  You have the personality to pull it off where I didn't.

Eli, I'm writing this on your third week birthday, so I don't know you that well yet, but I'm looking forward to getting to know all about you.  I just want you to know I love you, and I'm happy you are here.  You are a special little baby, and I love to cuddle you in my arms.  Even though you are too young yet for me to know you all that well, I want you to know I love you.  Your middle name, Bernard, is after my grandfather. We called him Pa.  He was a great man, and you have inherited his honorable name.  Take good care of it.  Pa used to say, "You always want to keep yourself just one step above the other guy."  He didn't mean to look down on other people.  What he meant was to keep your standards higher than those around you.  Be honest and true.

Michael, you are such a character -- and so smart.  Take advantage of that intelligence and keep learning.  You can have a great life if you stay close to the gospel and don't stray away from the important things.  Never doubt that you are loved because you are adopted!  I love you every bit as much as my other grandchildren.  Being adopted makes you special in a different way.  Your parents worked hard to get you, and the rest of us cheered them on every step of the way.  You are loved!

Sabrina, you are a lovely young woman.  You've had adversity in your life, but you are coming out strong.  Take the pain from the past and put it to use by serving others.  You have empathy for others and can relate to their fears and their trials.  Make good use of that.  You are beautiful.  Remember that your inner beauty is what counts most.  Don't lose that, and you will do just fine.  I hope that someday you will see it in your heart to find your father's church.  He may not have gone to church often, but he did love and have a testimony of the gospel.

Ella, you are such a lovely child.  I love it when you smile.  You are young yet, so there are still so many things for me to learn about you.  I know that you are kind and loving.  You are going to grow up the middle child, and I am a middle child.  Just because you are in the middle doesn't mean you aren't important, or that you are not loved.  You're going to have to hold your own against those brothers, which will make you tough -- but don't let it make you too tough.  Keep that sweet gentle spirit in you always.

Now for all of you.  Look for partners in life that will uplift you and make you better than who you are (which is not to say that you aren't already special :) because you are), but there is always room for growth.  Don't look for a spouse that is "cute" or "good looking" -- look for someone who will make you better than you are -- and you will find that each year that person will become even more "cute" to you.  Besides, we all grow old and wrinkly very quickly anyway.  :)  My dad used to say, "When you're thinking about marrying somebody, take a step back and think about how the person will look when they've been up all night with a baby, when they wake up in the morning before they brush their teeth or have combed their hair, when they've been cleaning up puke all day, etc. -- Then, if you still love them, marry them."

My dad also used to say, "I don't have anything to leave you but a sense of humor."  That applies here.  A sense of humor will go a long way to making life easy and more beautiful, so if you didn't inherit it, develop it.  :)

Remember who you are and where you came from -- and always hold on tight to the rod and walk the narrow path that will lead you back to your Heavenly Father.  Stay close to the gospel, magnify your callings, and honor the priesthood.  Please see your way to the temple.  I don't want any empty chairs at that big round oak table in heaven.

I love you all!

Granny

Who Is Watching?

Today I was thinking about all the senior citizens who had an impact on my kids when they were growing up.  There were many.  We lived in a neighborhood of senior citizens, so they all adopted my kids as their grand kids.  That was wonderful since my parents lived in Nevada, and Danny's parents lived in Idaho.  My kids loved their own grandparents, but it was nice to have California grandparents too.  We also go to church in an LDS ward or congregation that has traditionally been made up of mostly senior citizens.

The couple I was thinking about today were the Ellsworths.  Meriem and Heber were the sweetest couple!  Heber must have been about 6' 6" or taller, and Meriem stood maybe 4' 8" on tiptoes!  For several years, there were not many children in our ward.  Our main worship meeting, Sacrament Meeting, was on the three-hour church block.  Our kids used to dart out the side door of the church as soon as the "amen" was said on closing prayer, so they could be outside to watch Brother and Sister Ellsworth come out that door holding hands.  My kids thought it was the sweetest thing that this old couple still held hands.  The Ellsworths never knew that my kids were watching them.

Heber wasn't very well, and one Sunday in Sacrament Meeting he just sort of tipped over in the pew and passed out.  The problem was, that he tipped over on top of Meriem!  I thought he was going to completely crush little Meriem!  Paramedics were called, and Heber recovered to see another Sunday.

Eventually, both Heber and Meriem passed away.  I remember at Meriem's funeral a story was told about them.  Every night of their marriage until Heber was just too frail to do it, he picked Meriem up and carried her up the stairs to bed.  Now that's love!

My kids had some really fine role models, that's for sure.  It makes me wonder what kind of role model I'm making for my grandchildren and other children who unknowingly watch everything I do and listen to every word I say.  I used to tell my kids that when they walked out the front door they represented themselves, their family, their ancestors, Camp Fire Boys and Girls, their school, their athletic teams, their ward, the church, and the Saviour.  As I grow older, I think I need to remind myself of that when I walk out the door.  I never know who may be watching.

Gift of Humor

Today I laughed at something that a friend posted on Facebook.  Most of the country is in the throws of an awful heat wave.  The picture that was posted was a sign that said, "Satan called.  He wants his weather back."  I responded that someone had not lost his/her sense of humor.  My friend said that she personally believes a sense of humor is "essential survival equipment."

That reminded me of my Dad.  Dad never had much in the way of material things.  Financial debt from serving in World War II and the Korean Conflict, mixed with raising four children on salesman's commissions, never afforded him luxury items of any kind.  He always saw to it that we had food on the table and clothes on our backs.  While we didn't have luxury items, we never thought of ourselves as poor.  We were rich in family, and that's what counted.

As Dad got older, he used to say to us, "When I go, you won't inherit anything.  The only thing I have to give you is my sense of humor."  Dad and Mom both had a wonderful sense of humor.  It didn't matter what was going on in our lives, they could find the humor in things.  I wonder if Mom and Dad realize what a valuable inheritance that was?  What an incredible legacy?

Sometimes when all is very quiet, if I listen carefully, I can still hear Dad laugh, and I can still see Mom belly laughing.  Mom and Dad left us more than a sense of humor, though.  They left us integrity, honesty, and love.  What more could children ask?

How It All Started

It was my "young and dumb" years. I left home when I was 18 and moved to Sacramento. I was not active in church and had no intention of changing that status. Bitterness on that end abounded. My testimony remained strong (and that is not an oxymoron -- most inactive members are inactive for other reasons, contrary to popular belief). Occasionally, when the desire to go to church would hit, I would slip into the back of the chapel late for Sacrament meeting, and then leave prior to closing prayer to be long gone before anyone noticed me -- or so I thought.

Danny noticed. In fact, Danny notices everything. He wasn't quick enough to catch me, but he managed to get my phone number from a friend of a friend of my roommate, who was a recent convert. He called, found a way to introduce himself, and asked me out. I'm not sure why I said yes, but I did.

Our first date was less than perfect. As a matter of fact, it was awful. Danny had a very bad cold, and should have cancelled. Instead, he picked me up in his old rattletrap Plymouth. The passenger door was broken, so I had to crawl in on the driver's side. He apologized for driving with one contact lens because when he gets a cold, he gets cold sores in his eyes. He took me to see the movie "Earthquake." For the benefit of the younger generation, let me explain that when you see this movie on television, it is NOT the way we experienced it in the theater. There were special sound effects that made loud rumbling noises under your feet that made you feel like you were actually experiencing an earthquake. Danny had no way of knowing that I was born in the worst earthquake Nevada has ever seen, and I'm just superstitious enough to believe that there's a good possibility that with an entrance like that, my exit might just be as dramatic. I was terrified, and he was trying to be a gentleman (or maybe it was the cold), so he didn't even hold my hand.

The second stop on the date was Pizza & Pipes, where there was a real old time Wurlitzer organ salvaged from silent movie days with a live organist. I loved the place, and it remained our favorite pizza place until they finally went out of business when my kids were teenagers. In light of his cold, however, I sat on the opposite side of the table from him, as opposed to sitting next to him, an act which he still has yet to forgive me.

The entire evening, he talked about his ex-wife and his divorce (between nose blows) -- not smart. I went home and told my roommates that he was looking for a wife, and I was NOT interested -- especially since he had been married before, had a son, and was 12 years older than me. I refused to go out with him by avoiding his seemingly endless phone calls for the next eight months.

Eight months later, I walked into the back of the chapel late and exited early. He must have been wearing his running shoes. In order to get away from the church quickly, I agreed to let him call me.

The following Sunday afternoon, he called extremely excited, and his voice was very animated. He wanted to come to my apartment and show me the pictures that he had taken of his 3-year-old son at Sears. I let him come over. As he showed me the pictures of his son, two things happened. I didn't realize it at the time, but I fell in love with this man who so obviously loved this adorable tow-headed little boy. I also fell in love with the tow-headed boy before I ever met him. It would take many months (and many fights) before I would figure all that out, however. I finally figured it out the day a drunk driver hit him and totalled his new Datsun. I had injured my back and was working with a heating pad. When I got the call that he had been hit, I took off at a dead run and ran from my office at 7th and K Streets to the scene of the accident at 5th and P Streets. You can do the math. The next day, he was fine, but I was flat on my back in bed contemplating why in the heck I had done that.

The drama didn't end when I figured out I loved him, however. Danny and I had the stormiest courtship on record. As a matter of fact, we fought more the year before we were married than we have in the last 33 1/2 years of marriage. I gave the engagement ring back three times -- but that's a story for a future post.

What Is Love?

How do you explain what real love is to a group of children 3-11 years old? This was my dilemma some years ago when I was Primary President in church teaching children. I had a lesson planned, but something just wasn't right. The night before I was supposed to teach, the inspiration came to me. I scrapped the entire lesson and started over.

The children already knew from prior lessons that my father was a very eccentric man. I often used my father's life stories to demonstrate a principle, and they seemed to love hearing about this strange little man. So when I began to tell yet another of my father's stories, they settled in to listen.

My father had an aversion to tissues. He had been raised in the era of handkerchiefs. For Dad, it was a "man thing." It seems only women were supposed to use tissues. When my husband and I were first married, we were gathered as a family at the family cabin. My husband used a tissue and then disposed of it in the wood stove. My father made a comment about men and handkerchiefs. As a newlywed, I felt compelled to defend my husband.

I explained to Dad that for sanitary reasons, I preferred my husband use tissues. I told Dad how awful it was as a teenager washing his white handkerchiefs in the same laundry load as my white underwear. My sister chimed in by telling how awful it was to hang laundry on the clothesline and get "slimed" because it didn't all come out in the wash. I went on to complain about having to pick the leftovers off of the handkerchiefs prior to ironing them. My sister and I really razzed Dad pretty good about the whole thing -- all in good fun. Then I promptly forgot about it.

Fast forward a few years. My father had passed away. Mom and I were talking about how in the end Dad did a few strange things (even for him) because oxygen wasn't getting to his brain. I told Mom that one day I walked into the bathroom to find Dad standing over the toilet picking "buggers" (for lack of a better word) off a handkerchief into the toilet. Wrong thing to say! Mom went into this tirade about how THAT wasn't Dad's lack of oxygen -- that was my fault and my sister's fault! She reminded me of the incident at the cabin, which I had totally forgotten about.

Apparently, Dad thought a lot about what my sister and I told him. He went out and bought dozens of brand new handkerchiefs. You see, he was too set in his ways to use tissue, but he found a solution to the problem. He loved my mother enough that he didn't want her to become the victim of the "slime" my sister and I had portrayed. From that day forward, he saved his handkerchiefs in a canvas bag until they were completely dried. Then he would carefully "debugger" them into the toilet prior to putting them in the laundry.

I completed my lesson by asking the children how much love they had for their family members. Would they go to that much trouble to protect a family member?

As I finished telling the story, the adult teachers in the room looked at me like I had really "lost it". The children, however, got the message. Several of those kids (now adults) have told me how much that lesson meant to them. They really did get the point.

I'm not sure what this says about kids. As my Dad would have said, "First you have to get their attention."