The past 7 days have been quite eventful. I helped my daughter move out of her dorm, attended our youngest daughter's dance concert, played with my grandchildren while their mother fixed me a heavenly early birthday breakfast (Like that was real hard!), celebrated my birthday and Mother's Day, received a new church calling (After a 16 year absense I am back in Primary--as a counselor in the presidency--I hope I still have what it takes-- I don't know if I do but if I have faith then Heavenly Father will help me find what I need--I will probably be writing more about this later), and drove with my family to move our college age daughter to Arizona for her Summer job.
Having a birthday the same day as Mother's Day shouldn't be that big of a deal but it has never set well with my selfish side. I decided ahead of time that I could choose to feel old and guilty on this 2-in1 eventful day ( I could have received black balloons for two decades now--and there is the usual Mother's Day dose of guilt) or youthful and grateful. I think receiving a new church calling the same day as the two big celebrations was indeed a blessing. It helped me opt for the youthful and grateful path and I had a lovely day. My day was made more lovely by the fact that my son called to wish me a Happy Birthday/Mother's Day. I haven't heard from him, other than one brief text, in months. I found out later that my youngest daughter had reminded him of what day it was but the call still meant a lot to me. (I really appreciated the fact that my daughter cared enough to remind her brother--double treat) The day was also delightful because I got to share the celebration with my oldest daughter who is a wonderful mother to my grandchildren and my husband's mother who is definitely high on my list of reasons why I am glad I married my husband. My husband and two youngest daughters took care of dinner and cleaning up. I ate too much but life was good...
Our trip to Arizona was quick and tiring but enjoyable. Driving is good thinking time. I found it interesting what kinds of things brought a smile to my face as the miles added up. I smiled as I saw a very long freight train in the distance. It had three engines. Perhaps I smiled because I have always felt strangely proud of the fact that as a teenager my father hopped freight trains to make his way to California from Texas. That always sounded so adventurous! Another possible reason for smiling at a passing train were happy memories of counting train cars as a kid and waiting for the caboose so I could wave at the men inside. I guess children (and some adults) take pleasure in waving to passing strangers and having them wave back because it is kind of like hopping trains and traveling to unknown places. When we connect for a moment in time with a stranger or fellow traveler in life's journey we move beyond our small worlds... Seeing baby cows made me smile too. I know the correct term is calves but that reminds me of legs so I prefer baby cows. They are so cute. They don't lumber along like their mothers but they kind of skip. They don't just stand in the sunshine, they frolic. I guess my fondness for baby cows explains why I refuse to eat veal but I am okay with other kinds of beef. Anyway... I also smiled while listening to my husband and daughter in the back seat singing along with classic rock songs from the 70s. They did quite the rousing duet on Black Water by the Doobie Brothers. My youngest daughter was driving at the time and she is not at all a fan of classic rock and even less a fan of her dad and sister singing along with it. However, a few times I could see just a hint of a smile creep into her look of disgust.
Driving is like a narcotic to me. It is very hard for me to stay awake while driving for long distances (Long meaning anything over about 20 miles) so thankfully my husband is much better at staying awake. I do my best to try and make sure he stays awake and I use this important duty as an excuse to consume way too much sugar on road trips. I still spend a fair amount of time dozing. It was kind of scary at one point to wake up to my husband and daughter in the back seat loudly telling my youngest daughter to get back on the road. They had her hook up some cable for an Ipod so she veered a little and came close to going off the road into the gravel. I couldn't really say much because my husband had just reminded me that I needed to stop distracting my daughter by pointing things out to her. I do that to my husband all the time. What can I say, I just like to share what I see...It was amazing that I fell asleep with my daughter at the wheel. Usually having one of my teenage children drive works much better than sugar at keeping me wide awake.
We got to help move my daughter's stuff into her dorm. I told her it was appropriate that we had listened to music from Newsies on the way because that is what her dorm reminded me of---Newsie or orphan accomodations---but clean and cozy in a way---a long narrow room with a row of bunk beds on each side. Each girl gets a bed, 3 drawers and about 18 inches of closet space to call her own. There are showers and bathrooms and an open area with mirrors and sinks. There is also a rec room downstairs. I admire my daughter's courage and sense of adventure. She feels like this is where she is supposed to be right now and I feel that way too. She will get to meet lots of people from all over and she will get to learn about different cultures and about waitressing and selling tourists treasures in gift shops. I didn't get a chance to give her a little motherly advice...I was going to remind her of something my husband has taught me, that if you face things that are difficult it is much better to think of them as challenges and even better to think of them as adventures. People don't sign up for problems but they are up for a good challenge and they even pay good money for adventures! I can hardly wait to hear all about my daughter's summer freight train hopping. Her younger sister decided that the whole thing looked like being at camp for 3 months. That idea was distasteful and disturbing to my baby who is quite the homebody and not very appealing to my oldest daughter who is adventurous but highly values personal space and comforts of home. (My son, who once lived in a cave, would probably relish the idea of some real freight train hopping) I have often referred to my middle daughter as my gypsy child. When she was younger she always enjoyed playing at her friends' houses and she has always wanted to explore what the world has to offer outside of her home state. She is in for quite the interesting summer.
We spent the night at our daughter's new home away from home (with tourist not orphan accomodations) and woke up to a few snow flurries. By the time we were sitting at the counter in the coffee shop eating breakfast the flurries had turned into a major freakish spring snowstorm.
A young man with his belongings on his back came in from the cold and another patron told him to 'have himself some breakfast'. The young man was visibly grateful for the generous offer and sat down a couple of seats away from us. We talked about the weather and he said he had been hitchhiking for a month. He had started out in Pennsylvannia and didn't seem to have any long range plans beyond going somewhere warm. He asked what day it was and exclaimed with surprise that it was his 19th birthday. I wished him a happy birthday but after we ate I felt an impression that I should do something more for him. My husband went along with my gesture. He frequently will indulge my impulses but sometimes he just hopes they pass without causing too much trouble or embarrassment. My youngest daughter helped me pick out a t-shirt in the same gift shop my other daughter would be working in in a few minutes and I wrote a brief note on a card. (While we did that I heard him telling the waitress it was his birthday and another employee gave him a bag of cookies from the bakery) My daughter and husband hung back while I presented the hasty gift to the young man. He seemed surprised but grateful. A few words passed between us and then our family headed out the door to brave the storm and head for home. I had already given my daughter a good-bye hug but she came out to say one last good-bye while her dad was cleaning snow off the car. It was snowing so hard that I didn't notice her until she was hurrying back inside the lodge so I got out of the car and called, "Good-bye, I love you." Some man getting into a big truck called back, "I love you too!" I chuckled as I got back in the car. It occurred to me as we were heading down to lower elevations that maybe it wasn't really that young man's birthday. Maybe he used that ploy to get people to give him stuff. I hoped if he wasn't telling the truth that maybe the kindnesses he was shown would at least prick his heart a little. I refused to feel bad about my decision. If he was telling the truth then he knows there is goodness in the world. If he was lying he still knows there is goodness in the world and someday he might feel sorry for lying but I, on the other hand, most likely will not feel sorry for making a gesture of kindness.
Note: It would be easier and less confusing to use the names of my children and grandchildren in these posts but I am not very blog- savvy so I am paranoid about giving out too much info. Maybe I'll make up some names...that sounds fun.
Go find some freight trains to hop. Enjoy!
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Motherhood Part 2---The Bright Side
Happy Mother's Day! I thought I had better write while it was still Mother's Day and I couldn't leave you with nothing but the dark side...
Most women who aren't fond of Mother's Day have their reasons. Some women would love to be mothers but aren't. Some women grieve for a child they have had and held and lost. Some women would love to share the day with their mothers but can't. Some women don't feel deserving of all the attention because they don't think of themselves as being good mothers. Other women feel pressured by the accolades. And there are some women who try to be good mothers but feel left out of the celebration because they feel like their families don't notice or care.
I guess the reasons for not liking Mother's day could be condensed into three main areas; having empty spots in the heart, having unreasonably high expectations, and failing to see a cause for celebration.
Have you ever noticed how heavy an empty heart feels? That's because it isn't empty but it's filled with the wrong stuff. In the Sermon on the Mount our Savior says Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled. Righteousness is goodness. If we seek to be filled with goodness then the grief and pain and loneliness will have less space in our hearts.
I saw a cute Mother's Day card that said something like, 'Behind every good kid is a mother who thinks she is doing a lousy job'. Like other mothers I have my share of regrets---things I wish I would have done differently in raising my children. But Heavenly Father gave me a happy thought. When we look back we tend to judge ourselves by what we know now. I like to think that most of the time we did the best we could according to what we knew and felt at the time.
{Advice for new mothers: Do all you can to minimize regrets. Your children will grow up faster than you can imagine. Don't put off enjoying them.} We should all strive to do better but we should give ourselves credit for trying to be good mothers. It is good to expect the best from our families but it is important to give them credit for trying too. We need to remember that the fruit of our labors needs to ripen for awhile before we can taste of its sweetness.
Do you ever notice how women tell everyone not to go to a lot of bother or make a big fuss but then they cry when people honor their wishes. I can see where Mother's Day can be like a test with trick questions for our husbands and children. We really need to make it an open book test and be easier on our grading. Sometimes our families aren't that good at pampering but they excel in other areas. We need to look for what they do right. Mother's Day is a good opportunity to show appreciation for mothers and for the divine mothering qualities in women, but all appreciation should not be reserved for that one day. Talk about unrealistic expectations.
Little children are very good at reminding us of the best gifts. All the impressive gifts in the glossy newspaper ads pale in comparison to dandelions clutched in chubby little hands and funny stick figure pictures signed with I Love You in scrawling crayon letters. Little notes of appreciation are cherished and read again and again. A Mother's Day that shines in my memory is one where all four of my children worked together on a special breakfast for me. My oldest daughter did most of the cooking, my younger daughters made decorations and a menu and my son very nicely acted as my waiter. The whole thing was an idea that my son had gotten from a story in The Friend magazine. I couldn't have felt more pampered had I eaten an extravagant buffet in an upscale restaurant or felt more truly loved than I did sitting at my breakfast table that morning being served by my sweet children. There is cause to celebrate in shy hugs, loving glances, awkward words of gratitude, sleepy heads resting on your shoulder, burnt toast and soggy pancakes, and flowers that are really weeds. Motherhood can be a thankless job but usually only if we let it.
When my kids were younger it seemed that they were always extra difficult on Mother's Day and I was extra grumpy. I would go to church after yelling at my children and listen to talks about how wonderful other mothers were. I would look around and feel like all the other women were wearing corsages but me (In reality maybe 3 or 4)---they had evidence of their husbands' admiration pinned like medals on their chests. After the talks made me feel heavy with guilt and shame I would have to stand up and wait for a prize I felt I didn't deserve---a flower that dared me to keep it alive. But I would take home the flower and do what? I would try and nurture it and help it to grow because I am a mother and that is what I do.
Hooray! Today in our ward all women over 18 got fudge brownies. The only thing better would have been a spare pair of pantihose!
Celebrate today and tomorrow and the next day. Let's bring motherhood out into the light where it belongs.
Most women who aren't fond of Mother's Day have their reasons. Some women would love to be mothers but aren't. Some women grieve for a child they have had and held and lost. Some women would love to share the day with their mothers but can't. Some women don't feel deserving of all the attention because they don't think of themselves as being good mothers. Other women feel pressured by the accolades. And there are some women who try to be good mothers but feel left out of the celebration because they feel like their families don't notice or care.
I guess the reasons for not liking Mother's day could be condensed into three main areas; having empty spots in the heart, having unreasonably high expectations, and failing to see a cause for celebration.
Have you ever noticed how heavy an empty heart feels? That's because it isn't empty but it's filled with the wrong stuff. In the Sermon on the Mount our Savior says Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled. Righteousness is goodness. If we seek to be filled with goodness then the grief and pain and loneliness will have less space in our hearts.
I saw a cute Mother's Day card that said something like, 'Behind every good kid is a mother who thinks she is doing a lousy job'. Like other mothers I have my share of regrets---things I wish I would have done differently in raising my children. But Heavenly Father gave me a happy thought. When we look back we tend to judge ourselves by what we know now. I like to think that most of the time we did the best we could according to what we knew and felt at the time.
{Advice for new mothers: Do all you can to minimize regrets. Your children will grow up faster than you can imagine. Don't put off enjoying them.} We should all strive to do better but we should give ourselves credit for trying to be good mothers. It is good to expect the best from our families but it is important to give them credit for trying too. We need to remember that the fruit of our labors needs to ripen for awhile before we can taste of its sweetness.
Do you ever notice how women tell everyone not to go to a lot of bother or make a big fuss but then they cry when people honor their wishes. I can see where Mother's Day can be like a test with trick questions for our husbands and children. We really need to make it an open book test and be easier on our grading. Sometimes our families aren't that good at pampering but they excel in other areas. We need to look for what they do right. Mother's Day is a good opportunity to show appreciation for mothers and for the divine mothering qualities in women, but all appreciation should not be reserved for that one day. Talk about unrealistic expectations.
Little children are very good at reminding us of the best gifts. All the impressive gifts in the glossy newspaper ads pale in comparison to dandelions clutched in chubby little hands and funny stick figure pictures signed with I Love You in scrawling crayon letters. Little notes of appreciation are cherished and read again and again. A Mother's Day that shines in my memory is one where all four of my children worked together on a special breakfast for me. My oldest daughter did most of the cooking, my younger daughters made decorations and a menu and my son very nicely acted as my waiter. The whole thing was an idea that my son had gotten from a story in The Friend magazine. I couldn't have felt more pampered had I eaten an extravagant buffet in an upscale restaurant or felt more truly loved than I did sitting at my breakfast table that morning being served by my sweet children. There is cause to celebrate in shy hugs, loving glances, awkward words of gratitude, sleepy heads resting on your shoulder, burnt toast and soggy pancakes, and flowers that are really weeds. Motherhood can be a thankless job but usually only if we let it.
When my kids were younger it seemed that they were always extra difficult on Mother's Day and I was extra grumpy. I would go to church after yelling at my children and listen to talks about how wonderful other mothers were. I would look around and feel like all the other women were wearing corsages but me (In reality maybe 3 or 4)---they had evidence of their husbands' admiration pinned like medals on their chests. After the talks made me feel heavy with guilt and shame I would have to stand up and wait for a prize I felt I didn't deserve---a flower that dared me to keep it alive. But I would take home the flower and do what? I would try and nurture it and help it to grow because I am a mother and that is what I do.
Hooray! Today in our ward all women over 18 got fudge brownies. The only thing better would have been a spare pair of pantihose!
Celebrate today and tomorrow and the next day. Let's bring motherhood out into the light where it belongs.
Motherhood Part 1---The Dark Side
Tomorrow is Mother's Day. That gives some women a day to look forward to and others a day to dread. I have heard quite a few women express their strong dislike for Mother's Day. Some even say they hate it. This negative attitude toward a day to celebrate mothers combined in my mind with lots of ads I have seen lately for the perfect gifts for mom and this is what happened...
Warning! The following will come across as quite negative but there will be a positive turn in part two. Stay with me now...
(Told from an everymother point of view)
Dear People Shopping for Mother's Day gifts,
Hear are a few suggestions---
Jewelry's always nice. How about a #1Mom pin to make me laugh or make me cry if other people laugh when I wear it.
Some chocolate would be really sweet. Just be sure to include a set of scales that always show 125 pounds no matter how much chocolate I consume---or you could get me a cute jogging outfit but be careful with that one---even on high doses of chocolate I can be sensitive and slightly paranoid.
Perfume would be great to hide the smell of baby throwup on those days I don't get time to shower. (Because the baby's sick and throwing up)
Flowers would be greatly appreciated in case I don't get around to planting any and I could relate to them when they wilt.
A pretty scarf would be just the thing to cover the increasing number of creases in my neck.
A gliding rocker would help me get the baby to sleep and maybe relax me after the baby's in bed and I can't sleep.
A handbag would be great---but get a big one---one that's large enough for me to carry around all my guilt---better yet, a carry on with wheels would probably be easier on my back.
Some new cookware would be nice with a large pot that I could use for stew. I'm good at stewing...bakeware would be good too---I could whip up a batch of worries in no time and serve them with a generous helping of regret.
How about a watch? You could get me a magnetic to-do list to go with it so I could be reminded of how much I have to do and how little time I have to do it.
Or maybe you could give me a coupon for a free massage---It can be a real pain in the neck carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders...
Maybe the best idea of all would be an elegantly decorated stick to beat myself with...
Warning! The following will come across as quite negative but there will be a positive turn in part two. Stay with me now...
(Told from an everymother point of view)
Dear People Shopping for Mother's Day gifts,
Hear are a few suggestions---
Jewelry's always nice. How about a #1Mom pin to make me laugh or make me cry if other people laugh when I wear it.
Some chocolate would be really sweet. Just be sure to include a set of scales that always show 125 pounds no matter how much chocolate I consume---or you could get me a cute jogging outfit but be careful with that one---even on high doses of chocolate I can be sensitive and slightly paranoid.
Perfume would be great to hide the smell of baby throwup on those days I don't get time to shower. (Because the baby's sick and throwing up)
Flowers would be greatly appreciated in case I don't get around to planting any and I could relate to them when they wilt.
A pretty scarf would be just the thing to cover the increasing number of creases in my neck.
A gliding rocker would help me get the baby to sleep and maybe relax me after the baby's in bed and I can't sleep.
A handbag would be great---but get a big one---one that's large enough for me to carry around all my guilt---better yet, a carry on with wheels would probably be easier on my back.
Some new cookware would be nice with a large pot that I could use for stew. I'm good at stewing...bakeware would be good too---I could whip up a batch of worries in no time and serve them with a generous helping of regret.
How about a watch? You could get me a magnetic to-do list to go with it so I could be reminded of how much I have to do and how little time I have to do it.
Or maybe you could give me a coupon for a free massage---It can be a real pain in the neck carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders...
Maybe the best idea of all would be an elegantly decorated stick to beat myself with...
Monday, May 3, 2010
Pantyhose Hit A Few Snags and other no-nonsense ideas
Why were pantyhose invented by a man and why do they share a name with something used to water your garden or put out fires? Who decided to call the largest size Queen Size and who decided that taupe and beige mist were good leg colors?
Just curious.
When I was about 13 I underwent a rite of passage---an initiation into womanhood---I got to wear nylon stockings to church---Not pantyhose but the kind of hose you attach to a funny looking contraption called a garter belt. This was in the early 70s so I don't know why my mother started me out with a garter belt---that's probably how she entered the world of womanly attire---I don't even know if my mother had made the leap to pantyhose at that time. Anyway...I was positively thrilled to graduate from knee socks. I felt so utterly grown up, so womanly---a bit like I had webbed feet and a second skin that fit quite snug but womanly nonetheless.
My least favorite thing about pantyhose when I was young and skinny was that they would sag around my ankles (anyone remember the elephant legs commercial?) I should have been used to that after years of pulling up sagging knee socks or tugging on anklets (ankle socks for you younger readers) that had been partially eaten into a wad by my shoes. The sagging problem stopped being an issue as pantyhose became new and improved and as I developed more of me to hold them up all the way. Having long legs I have also always had the problem of pantyhose not being long enough. Sometimes the crotch will come halfway down to my knees and I will have to do some ballet moves while pulling up on the waist in order to get the pantyhose to live up to their name. (Stretching them before putting them on is helpful--kind of like stretching a balloon before blowing it up) There should be a diagram of those moves included in each pantyhose package. Low rider pantyhose are not comfortable and do not encourage ladylike walking, or walking at all.
Many women can barely tolerate pantyhose. I have gotten used to them and do not mind them so much. My main problem is that I go through a pair a week sometimes. My feet would make great subjects for before shots for pedicures and I go without shoes frequently while wearing my pantyhose so I get holes and runs in the feet. The previously mentioned ballet moves also contribute their share of runs and snags. If I wrote a book on tips on being womanly (my only qualification for that would be the fact that I am a woman---I could still use some tips myself) it would include how to twist your pantyhose while wearing them so that you can move a run from the outside of your leg to the less-noticeable inside. I wish pantyhose came in large rolls like plastic garbage bags and I could just tear off a new pair each week. How do we go about starting a recycling program for pantyhose? They would be kind of cute with a PETE # on the bottom of the foot. Wouldn't women rush to buy pajamas or t-shirts made out of recycled pantyhose? They could even be sold in cute little pouches...Well maybe not.
I guess it is appropriate somehow that a man invented pantyhose since historically men were the main wearers of tights and leg coverings before they became popular for women. Now when women complain about wearing pantyhose(they are so much better than garter belts ladies) men always have a counter complaint with neckties. I wouldn't want to wear a tie but at least ties can be loosened which is not the case with pantyhose. What if someone invented a type of pantyhose that worked kind of like a blood pressure cuff...on days you're feeling a little puffy you could tighten them and when you want to relax you could loosen them just a bit. Of course they would need to not make the same sound of a blood pressure cuff and they couldn't tighten that much or people would wonder what was up with your popping eyes and bulging veins. It's probably best to keep pantyhose low tech.
The name pantyhose simply means nylon hose with a panty attached. Hosen means leg covering but I can't come up with a sensible way to connect that to garden hose or fire hose. As for the shades of pantyhose I have become quite fond of beige mist. Suntan always makes me look like all of the color in my body has drained into my legs. I have gotten queen size for quite some time because they are usually long enough and they don't make me feel shrink-wrapped. I do giggle when I see the Queen 2 size because it makes me think of the QE2 cruise ship---now that's an impressive size! (Please don't be offended if you wear that size---we all try to limit the number of plies we have to do to get pantyhose up to our waists) It is probably a good thing that the smallest sizes aren't called Peasant Size.
I probably should invest in the department store variety instead of grabbing a pair with my groceries but from past experience they don't last me that much longer----just like I won't invest more than $10 on sunglasses because I either sit on them or lose them. I am really thankful for pantyhose. After all, they keep me feeling tucked-in and they provide some nice covering for my spidery veins, not to mention my white legs---which aren't a porcelain white but more of a white fish on the beach white. I really do think a roll of pantyhose is a great idea...but then would they be sized by gallons?
Just curious.
When I was about 13 I underwent a rite of passage---an initiation into womanhood---I got to wear nylon stockings to church---Not pantyhose but the kind of hose you attach to a funny looking contraption called a garter belt. This was in the early 70s so I don't know why my mother started me out with a garter belt---that's probably how she entered the world of womanly attire---I don't even know if my mother had made the leap to pantyhose at that time. Anyway...I was positively thrilled to graduate from knee socks. I felt so utterly grown up, so womanly---a bit like I had webbed feet and a second skin that fit quite snug but womanly nonetheless.
My least favorite thing about pantyhose when I was young and skinny was that they would sag around my ankles (anyone remember the elephant legs commercial?) I should have been used to that after years of pulling up sagging knee socks or tugging on anklets (ankle socks for you younger readers) that had been partially eaten into a wad by my shoes. The sagging problem stopped being an issue as pantyhose became new and improved and as I developed more of me to hold them up all the way. Having long legs I have also always had the problem of pantyhose not being long enough. Sometimes the crotch will come halfway down to my knees and I will have to do some ballet moves while pulling up on the waist in order to get the pantyhose to live up to their name. (Stretching them before putting them on is helpful--kind of like stretching a balloon before blowing it up) There should be a diagram of those moves included in each pantyhose package. Low rider pantyhose are not comfortable and do not encourage ladylike walking, or walking at all.
Many women can barely tolerate pantyhose. I have gotten used to them and do not mind them so much. My main problem is that I go through a pair a week sometimes. My feet would make great subjects for before shots for pedicures and I go without shoes frequently while wearing my pantyhose so I get holes and runs in the feet. The previously mentioned ballet moves also contribute their share of runs and snags. If I wrote a book on tips on being womanly (my only qualification for that would be the fact that I am a woman---I could still use some tips myself) it would include how to twist your pantyhose while wearing them so that you can move a run from the outside of your leg to the less-noticeable inside. I wish pantyhose came in large rolls like plastic garbage bags and I could just tear off a new pair each week. How do we go about starting a recycling program for pantyhose? They would be kind of cute with a PETE # on the bottom of the foot. Wouldn't women rush to buy pajamas or t-shirts made out of recycled pantyhose? They could even be sold in cute little pouches...Well maybe not.
I guess it is appropriate somehow that a man invented pantyhose since historically men were the main wearers of tights and leg coverings before they became popular for women. Now when women complain about wearing pantyhose(they are so much better than garter belts ladies) men always have a counter complaint with neckties. I wouldn't want to wear a tie but at least ties can be loosened which is not the case with pantyhose. What if someone invented a type of pantyhose that worked kind of like a blood pressure cuff...on days you're feeling a little puffy you could tighten them and when you want to relax you could loosen them just a bit. Of course they would need to not make the same sound of a blood pressure cuff and they couldn't tighten that much or people would wonder what was up with your popping eyes and bulging veins. It's probably best to keep pantyhose low tech.
The name pantyhose simply means nylon hose with a panty attached. Hosen means leg covering but I can't come up with a sensible way to connect that to garden hose or fire hose. As for the shades of pantyhose I have become quite fond of beige mist. Suntan always makes me look like all of the color in my body has drained into my legs. I have gotten queen size for quite some time because they are usually long enough and they don't make me feel shrink-wrapped. I do giggle when I see the Queen 2 size because it makes me think of the QE2 cruise ship---now that's an impressive size! (Please don't be offended if you wear that size---we all try to limit the number of plies we have to do to get pantyhose up to our waists) It is probably a good thing that the smallest sizes aren't called Peasant Size.
I probably should invest in the department store variety instead of grabbing a pair with my groceries but from past experience they don't last me that much longer----just like I won't invest more than $10 on sunglasses because I either sit on them or lose them. I am really thankful for pantyhose. After all, they keep me feeling tucked-in and they provide some nice covering for my spidery veins, not to mention my white legs---which aren't a porcelain white but more of a white fish on the beach white. I really do think a roll of pantyhose is a great idea...but then would they be sized by gallons?
Friday, April 30, 2010
Families
The difference between being a grandmother and being a mother can be likened to the difference between having a chauffer driven ride in the country and being driven by your teenager, who has a learner's permit, somewhere in rush hour traffic. As a grandma you can sit back and enjoy the ride and the accompanying scenery. As a mother you feel compelled to instruct and correct while putting your foot firmly on the non-existent passenger's side brake. You don't dare enjoy too much of the scenery because you are focused on making sure both you and your child behind the wheel arrive alive.
I love being a mother. It is scary and painful and amazing and joyful---just like childbirth---a precursor of things to come...I must admit being a grandma is a lot of fun and something I can truly sit back and enjoy. Although I do stress a little about being a really good grandmother. I want my grandkids to have fond memories of me and I hope I can teach them a good lesson or two. (Although lessons taught by grandparents are often more subtle) One of the great things about being a grandparent is it gives you a second chance of sorts. If your children don't have as many good memories of you as their parent as you would hope then at least maybe they can catch a better glimpse of you through the eyes of their children.
Yesterday I got to go to a natural history museum (Two museum trips in one week--this was indeed a good week) and to an old-fashioned drugstore with my oldest daughter and her children, my granddaughter and grandson. It was delightful. My granddaughter enjoyed looking at the taxidermied birds and their eggs, the rocks, the butterfly and moth collections, and the old bottle collection. My grandson would have had much more fun (And gotten into a lot of trouble) if he would have been out of his stroller and allowed to crawl around and explore. He did get out of his stoller for a few minutes and delighted in playing a Native American drum while he bounced to the beat.
It is interesting to see what captures the attention of children. My granddaughter really liked looking at the aquarium. She has one in her home but this one had a 'Nemo' fish. In the Native American Art room she wasn't as much interested in the baskets and headdresses as she was in playing with some pottery pieces that were in a 'hands on' display. She grouped the pottery pieces into family units (Children naturally do this---even at tender ages children recognize the family as a fundamentally vital element of a healthy society)
As adults we always seem to have a clock ticking in our heads even when we are engaged in leisure activities. We look at something in a museum and then we move on expecting our children to do the same but children aren't as aware of time so they move on when they are ready--when they are done--or when something else catches their eye---they don't feel a need to keep moving for the sake of moving on. (However sometimes my children, especially as they grew older, would tug at me because I would be taking too long looking at something when they wanted to move on) My granddaughter did let us know when she was done. (Children do have timers--they rarely work in concert with their parent's timers) After seeing what she wanted to see she said, "Nana can I get out of the museum now?" She happily left with a bag of polished rocks and some candy rocks. Do you ever notice how as parents we vigilantly tell our children what not to put in their mouths but then we buy them edible versions of non-edibles and enthusiastically encourage them to partake? No wonder my granddaughter looked at the rocks a little apprehensively. (After lunch there was a hint of the same look when I offered her a cupcake with dirt--crushed oreos--and a worm--gummy--on top)
At the drugstore my granddaughter really took a liking to an old-fashioned spinning top. The kind with a handle that you push on. She liked it so much that when my inner timer said it was time to look at something else and I tried to put it away she grabbed it and insisted on playing with it a little longer. She also enjoyed rearranging the window display. She moved two porcelain birds into a nest with eggs. That did seem to be an appropriate arrangement. She found relief in a comfy chair for sale after she had been told to not touch something. She sucked her thumb and got a little upset when I tried to share the chair with her. She directed me to a nearby rocking chair. She was tired and hungry. We made our way to the exit and her mom stopped to buy some sticker books for her. While her mom paid for the purchase my granddaughter rearranged some farm animal groups---I think she was matching up mothers and their babies. My grandson was very good considering he just had to look at a lot of tantalizing things just barely out of his reach.
After the drugstore we came back home to Nana's house for lunch. My grandson feasted on pieces of bread, string cheese, blueberries, and baby food. He thouroughly enjoys eating. My granddaughter nibbled on a bologna sandwich, a few berries, and pretzels. My daughter and I enjoyed chatting about everything from world affairs to good books and recipes. Simple pleasures...
I love playing with my grandkids. I love chasing them and making them giggle. I love exploring with them. I have tried to make my extra bedroom into a fun playroom with several toys and books to engage young hands and minds. While my daughter was getting her very tired and fussy baby boy ready for the car ride home, I went to get my granddaughter and found her in the playroom not playing with the toys or books but playing a game of her own invention of dropping chalk through a cardboard wrapping paper tube into a bowl. I was privileged to be invited to join in the game. You know--it was fun. Simple activities become grand events and grand events become even more grand than we can imagine when experienced with the simple wonder and unadulterated enthusiasm of a child.
My world is so much brighter when my grandson smiles at me or when his big sister returns my hugs. My granddaughter rearranged my sofa table decor, moving a lone bird closer to its two 'baby bird's, on her way out. When the door shut after several goodbyes I was tired but renewed and I thought about how much I cherish my family---what they say---what they do---their facial expressions and laughter---what they do to my heart. I am glad that Heavenly Father put us into families. It feels like the right arrangement.
I love being a mother. It is scary and painful and amazing and joyful---just like childbirth---a precursor of things to come...I must admit being a grandma is a lot of fun and something I can truly sit back and enjoy. Although I do stress a little about being a really good grandmother. I want my grandkids to have fond memories of me and I hope I can teach them a good lesson or two. (Although lessons taught by grandparents are often more subtle) One of the great things about being a grandparent is it gives you a second chance of sorts. If your children don't have as many good memories of you as their parent as you would hope then at least maybe they can catch a better glimpse of you through the eyes of their children.
Yesterday I got to go to a natural history museum (Two museum trips in one week--this was indeed a good week) and to an old-fashioned drugstore with my oldest daughter and her children, my granddaughter and grandson. It was delightful. My granddaughter enjoyed looking at the taxidermied birds and their eggs, the rocks, the butterfly and moth collections, and the old bottle collection. My grandson would have had much more fun (And gotten into a lot of trouble) if he would have been out of his stroller and allowed to crawl around and explore. He did get out of his stoller for a few minutes and delighted in playing a Native American drum while he bounced to the beat.
It is interesting to see what captures the attention of children. My granddaughter really liked looking at the aquarium. She has one in her home but this one had a 'Nemo' fish. In the Native American Art room she wasn't as much interested in the baskets and headdresses as she was in playing with some pottery pieces that were in a 'hands on' display. She grouped the pottery pieces into family units (Children naturally do this---even at tender ages children recognize the family as a fundamentally vital element of a healthy society)
As adults we always seem to have a clock ticking in our heads even when we are engaged in leisure activities. We look at something in a museum and then we move on expecting our children to do the same but children aren't as aware of time so they move on when they are ready--when they are done--or when something else catches their eye---they don't feel a need to keep moving for the sake of moving on. (However sometimes my children, especially as they grew older, would tug at me because I would be taking too long looking at something when they wanted to move on) My granddaughter did let us know when she was done. (Children do have timers--they rarely work in concert with their parent's timers) After seeing what she wanted to see she said, "Nana can I get out of the museum now?" She happily left with a bag of polished rocks and some candy rocks. Do you ever notice how as parents we vigilantly tell our children what not to put in their mouths but then we buy them edible versions of non-edibles and enthusiastically encourage them to partake? No wonder my granddaughter looked at the rocks a little apprehensively. (After lunch there was a hint of the same look when I offered her a cupcake with dirt--crushed oreos--and a worm--gummy--on top)
At the drugstore my granddaughter really took a liking to an old-fashioned spinning top. The kind with a handle that you push on. She liked it so much that when my inner timer said it was time to look at something else and I tried to put it away she grabbed it and insisted on playing with it a little longer. She also enjoyed rearranging the window display. She moved two porcelain birds into a nest with eggs. That did seem to be an appropriate arrangement. She found relief in a comfy chair for sale after she had been told to not touch something. She sucked her thumb and got a little upset when I tried to share the chair with her. She directed me to a nearby rocking chair. She was tired and hungry. We made our way to the exit and her mom stopped to buy some sticker books for her. While her mom paid for the purchase my granddaughter rearranged some farm animal groups---I think she was matching up mothers and their babies. My grandson was very good considering he just had to look at a lot of tantalizing things just barely out of his reach.
After the drugstore we came back home to Nana's house for lunch. My grandson feasted on pieces of bread, string cheese, blueberries, and baby food. He thouroughly enjoys eating. My granddaughter nibbled on a bologna sandwich, a few berries, and pretzels. My daughter and I enjoyed chatting about everything from world affairs to good books and recipes. Simple pleasures...
I love playing with my grandkids. I love chasing them and making them giggle. I love exploring with them. I have tried to make my extra bedroom into a fun playroom with several toys and books to engage young hands and minds. While my daughter was getting her very tired and fussy baby boy ready for the car ride home, I went to get my granddaughter and found her in the playroom not playing with the toys or books but playing a game of her own invention of dropping chalk through a cardboard wrapping paper tube into a bowl. I was privileged to be invited to join in the game. You know--it was fun. Simple activities become grand events and grand events become even more grand than we can imagine when experienced with the simple wonder and unadulterated enthusiasm of a child.
My world is so much brighter when my grandson smiles at me or when his big sister returns my hugs. My granddaughter rearranged my sofa table decor, moving a lone bird closer to its two 'baby bird's, on her way out. When the door shut after several goodbyes I was tired but renewed and I thought about how much I cherish my family---what they say---what they do---their facial expressions and laughter---what they do to my heart. I am glad that Heavenly Father put us into families. It feels like the right arrangement.
Conversing With Artists
On Monday I went with a good friend on a lovely adventure to the BYU Museum of Art and the BYU Bookstore. Art Museums (Most any kind of museum) and bookstores---pieces of heaven on earth for me. I find both art museums and bookstores soothing and stimulating at the same time. Let me try and explain...
I love art museums because the works you find in them try to answer questions and end up asking even more. Artists try to give voice to what they see through their eyes. I think it is interesting that every art form is a cooperation of our spirits and elements of earth. Painters paint what they see in their mind's eye with paints taken from the earth. Sculptors sculpt with earth itself. Dancers (I think dancing is a pure and exciting form of art because in dancing our spirits really can move our bodies) create movement executed on the ground beneath their feet. For me, art is very spirtual because of this bringing together the physical and the spiritual to create something exhilartingly thought provoking.
My husband says he thinks we all helped create the Earth and everything in it. I like that idea. It would explain why some people feel connected to the mountains or others to the ocean or why some people like trees and others feel drawn to animals. Maybe we can really stretch things here and think that we not only helped create landscapes and creatures but sounds---like maybe someone musical created the sound of water trickling over rocks...It could be lots of fun to look at people you know and imagine what on the earth they would have helped create or form. I believe each of us is creative because we are children of the Creator--Heavenly Father--our Father. Some of us feel a greater need to create than others but we all feel it. It is part of us. Every now and then I hear someone say that they are not at all creative. That is not a true statement. Some people might not paint or sculpt or dance but they create beautiful or peaceful environments. Others create order out of disorder. There are many ways to create and in which to be creative. Art museums soothe my soul in speaking to my spirit in a language that I seem to remember and they stimulate me by awakening an awareness in my spirit brain and a desire in my spirit heart. I also like them because of the nice little signs that accompany each piece and give a brief background or explanation. Sometimes I wish more things in life and events in life had those nice little summations but that would probably make things too easy and inhibit my ability to form my own perceptions and understanding. Does that make sense?
The special exhibit we enjoyed was called Mirror Mirror:Contemporary Portraits and the Fugitive Self. (How could I not be curious about a title like that?) The exhibit showed the influence of technological media on the traditional art form of portraiture---in other words they were trying to visually represent the true self incorporating various kinds of modern media.One of my favorite pieces in the special exhibit was in a room where projected on three walls was video of people coming and going at a busy intersection in New York City. I am an avid people watcher so I found it fascinating and satisfying to sit and watch the people without the worry of being caught. With the larger than life projections and the background sounds you felt as if you were there. Suddenly faces in the crowd became more than that. Some of the faces wore such emotion. The faces drew you in like covers of books and you found yourself wanting to know the stories that went with the faces. My friend and I sat there and watched for several minutes. While we sat there she told me of an harrowing experience she had getting lost in New York City. Her story was made even more real by the pictures of people coming and going. (I wonder if there was a hidden camera filming our reactions to the people being filmed? Hmmm...)
Another favorite piece was a large tree sculpture that was covered in a black velvet fabric and had clear glass or plastic birds perched on the branches. The birds were filled with Windex. Fascinating... Another piece was a video of two people dancing. The artist had posted an ad for people to be in a dance video. Two people who showed up were very different--so different that they were chosen to be in the video. One was a tall, thin young man and one was a shorter kind of plump middle-aged woman. They danced together. Sometimes they looked almost absurd but they danced together in spite of their obvious differences on several levels. It was stirring in an odd sort of way. There were several pieces by one artist that I was looking at number 3 of 4 before I realized that they were paintings and not photographs! So much fun...I could go on and on...wait, I already have.
After the museum we fed our bodies which were lagging behind our full and invigorated minds at the time and then we headed to the bookstore. My favorite bookstore is Sam Weller's in Salt Lake City because it has creaking floors and smells of old books and there is a basement with wonderful used books that have things written inside like 'Merry Christmas Bob' or something that makes you a feel like a part of the previous book owner's life. But...BYU Bookstore is fun because they have all kinds of church books, a real candy department, and a children's book section that I could wander in for quite some time... Bookstores invite me in and make me want to make myself at home. They also excite me because I can take a book in my hands and for a moment have an out of body experience in traveling to a different time period or a different country, or a different time of life.
We finished our adventure by taking a drive down memory lane for my friend who graduated from BYU and lived near campus while attending. I really enjoy driving people down memory lane...a Memory Lane Chauffer would be a good job to apply for----
I think I made it perfectly clear how much I enjoyed this outing. I enjoyed it so much that this week seemed to not start with a Monday. Just yesterday while I was scrubbing my floor I saw a work of art outside of my kitchen window. It was a landscape of a tree made soft with baby leaves silouhetted against billowy white clouds gathering to cover a patch of blue sky. The perspective was one of looking upward. What works of art have you seen lately?
I love art museums because the works you find in them try to answer questions and end up asking even more. Artists try to give voice to what they see through their eyes. I think it is interesting that every art form is a cooperation of our spirits and elements of earth. Painters paint what they see in their mind's eye with paints taken from the earth. Sculptors sculpt with earth itself. Dancers (I think dancing is a pure and exciting form of art because in dancing our spirits really can move our bodies) create movement executed on the ground beneath their feet. For me, art is very spirtual because of this bringing together the physical and the spiritual to create something exhilartingly thought provoking.
My husband says he thinks we all helped create the Earth and everything in it. I like that idea. It would explain why some people feel connected to the mountains or others to the ocean or why some people like trees and others feel drawn to animals. Maybe we can really stretch things here and think that we not only helped create landscapes and creatures but sounds---like maybe someone musical created the sound of water trickling over rocks...It could be lots of fun to look at people you know and imagine what on the earth they would have helped create or form. I believe each of us is creative because we are children of the Creator--Heavenly Father--our Father. Some of us feel a greater need to create than others but we all feel it. It is part of us. Every now and then I hear someone say that they are not at all creative. That is not a true statement. Some people might not paint or sculpt or dance but they create beautiful or peaceful environments. Others create order out of disorder. There are many ways to create and in which to be creative. Art museums soothe my soul in speaking to my spirit in a language that I seem to remember and they stimulate me by awakening an awareness in my spirit brain and a desire in my spirit heart. I also like them because of the nice little signs that accompany each piece and give a brief background or explanation. Sometimes I wish more things in life and events in life had those nice little summations but that would probably make things too easy and inhibit my ability to form my own perceptions and understanding. Does that make sense?
The special exhibit we enjoyed was called Mirror Mirror:Contemporary Portraits and the Fugitive Self. (How could I not be curious about a title like that?) The exhibit showed the influence of technological media on the traditional art form of portraiture---in other words they were trying to visually represent the true self incorporating various kinds of modern media.One of my favorite pieces in the special exhibit was in a room where projected on three walls was video of people coming and going at a busy intersection in New York City. I am an avid people watcher so I found it fascinating and satisfying to sit and watch the people without the worry of being caught. With the larger than life projections and the background sounds you felt as if you were there. Suddenly faces in the crowd became more than that. Some of the faces wore such emotion. The faces drew you in like covers of books and you found yourself wanting to know the stories that went with the faces. My friend and I sat there and watched for several minutes. While we sat there she told me of an harrowing experience she had getting lost in New York City. Her story was made even more real by the pictures of people coming and going. (I wonder if there was a hidden camera filming our reactions to the people being filmed? Hmmm...)
Another favorite piece was a large tree sculpture that was covered in a black velvet fabric and had clear glass or plastic birds perched on the branches. The birds were filled with Windex. Fascinating... Another piece was a video of two people dancing. The artist had posted an ad for people to be in a dance video. Two people who showed up were very different--so different that they were chosen to be in the video. One was a tall, thin young man and one was a shorter kind of plump middle-aged woman. They danced together. Sometimes they looked almost absurd but they danced together in spite of their obvious differences on several levels. It was stirring in an odd sort of way. There were several pieces by one artist that I was looking at number 3 of 4 before I realized that they were paintings and not photographs! So much fun...I could go on and on...wait, I already have.
After the museum we fed our bodies which were lagging behind our full and invigorated minds at the time and then we headed to the bookstore. My favorite bookstore is Sam Weller's in Salt Lake City because it has creaking floors and smells of old books and there is a basement with wonderful used books that have things written inside like 'Merry Christmas Bob' or something that makes you a feel like a part of the previous book owner's life. But...BYU Bookstore is fun because they have all kinds of church books, a real candy department, and a children's book section that I could wander in for quite some time... Bookstores invite me in and make me want to make myself at home. They also excite me because I can take a book in my hands and for a moment have an out of body experience in traveling to a different time period or a different country, or a different time of life.
We finished our adventure by taking a drive down memory lane for my friend who graduated from BYU and lived near campus while attending. I really enjoy driving people down memory lane...a Memory Lane Chauffer would be a good job to apply for----
I think I made it perfectly clear how much I enjoyed this outing. I enjoyed it so much that this week seemed to not start with a Monday. Just yesterday while I was scrubbing my floor I saw a work of art outside of my kitchen window. It was a landscape of a tree made soft with baby leaves silouhetted against billowy white clouds gathering to cover a patch of blue sky. The perspective was one of looking upward. What works of art have you seen lately?
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Why Are These Experiences Mine?
Wow. A whole week has gone by and I have not written. Most likely that has had absolutely no effect on the universe...but I'm back!
A woman of faith, who I admire, recently made a comment when bearing her testimony in church that reverberated through my mind. Her children are not active in the church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints) and she said, 'having children who stray from the church (gospel) is something many of you will never experience'. That causes me to ask one of my favorite questions...why? Why is it something some will never experience but others will? Is it because some people don't need to learn the lessons that come with that experience or is it because they will learn the lessons in a different way? I believe the answer is yes to both questions.
Just as we are born with special physical abilities or talents we are also born with special spiritual abilities---spiritual gifts. Maybe some people already have what they would gain from a certain experience or at least they have moved beyond the developing phase and onto the practicing or honing phase.
Each one of us learns differently so it makes sense that what teaches one person say-- patience-- may not teach patience to another person. How wonderful that Heavenly Father gives us what he knows we need in order to become who he knows we can become. I pray for patience (among many other virtues in which I am sadly deficient) but would I have signed up for some of the lessons Heavenly Father has taught me about patience? Maybe if it was multiple choice I would have chosen even my difficult lessons over other lessons. Hmm... Heavenly Father doesn't give us more than what he knows we can handle and he adds his strength to ours. This is a whole other topic for a different day...
Now tell me again why we have trials? In Job we read that man is born unto trouble, our mortal bodies are a gift from God but they are susceptable to pain, injury, disease, and death. Another gift from God is our agency---our freedom to choose. There are very few choices we make in this life that do not affect someone else. So our trials come as a result of being mortal, or as a result of our poor choices or the poor choices of someone else. I believe that sometimes God saves us from trials and sometimes he saves us through trials. In his infinite wisdom he decides which is best. As parents we sometimes suffer as we watch our children struggle because they need to learn and Heavenly Father knows so much more than we do. I don't think Heavenly Father so much hands out trials as he offers opportunities and we accept some of the goodness he offers by how we face our trials. I think this is what the apostle Paul was speaking of to the Corinthians when he said, Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.
When my friend and neighbor made the statement that prompted all of these thoughts there were some in the congregation who have experienced having a child stray, and there were some who could only imagine what it must be like, but people in both situations were probably either feeling compassion for the woman, gratitude for children who hadn't strayed, or hope for children who had---all good feelings. Heavenly Father makes sure that blessings come in many ways and often many people will eat of the fruit of one seed. The trials of those we love become our trials. While loved ones learn divine lessons we learn some of our own. We have promised to bear one another's burdens. Our Savior has suffered all so that he could succor us in our time of need.
Sometimes I think I have the answers to Why? Why me? Why now? Why this? But then something that I perceive to be so much bigger than myself happens and the answers seem to elude me. It can be very difficult to make some experiences fit in our minds and our hearts but like Heavenly Father told the prophet Joseph Smith when Joseph was suffering greatly in Liberty Jail, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. Sometimes we need to let go of our questions and take comfort in the fact that Heavenly Father knows the answers. I know I have a lot to learn but I am thankful that I can learn a lot if I so choose.
A woman of faith, who I admire, recently made a comment when bearing her testimony in church that reverberated through my mind. Her children are not active in the church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints) and she said, 'having children who stray from the church (gospel) is something many of you will never experience'. That causes me to ask one of my favorite questions...why? Why is it something some will never experience but others will? Is it because some people don't need to learn the lessons that come with that experience or is it because they will learn the lessons in a different way? I believe the answer is yes to both questions.
Just as we are born with special physical abilities or talents we are also born with special spiritual abilities---spiritual gifts. Maybe some people already have what they would gain from a certain experience or at least they have moved beyond the developing phase and onto the practicing or honing phase.
Each one of us learns differently so it makes sense that what teaches one person say-- patience-- may not teach patience to another person. How wonderful that Heavenly Father gives us what he knows we need in order to become who he knows we can become. I pray for patience (among many other virtues in which I am sadly deficient) but would I have signed up for some of the lessons Heavenly Father has taught me about patience? Maybe if it was multiple choice I would have chosen even my difficult lessons over other lessons. Hmm... Heavenly Father doesn't give us more than what he knows we can handle and he adds his strength to ours. This is a whole other topic for a different day...
Now tell me again why we have trials? In Job we read that man is born unto trouble, our mortal bodies are a gift from God but they are susceptable to pain, injury, disease, and death. Another gift from God is our agency---our freedom to choose. There are very few choices we make in this life that do not affect someone else. So our trials come as a result of being mortal, or as a result of our poor choices or the poor choices of someone else. I believe that sometimes God saves us from trials and sometimes he saves us through trials. In his infinite wisdom he decides which is best. As parents we sometimes suffer as we watch our children struggle because they need to learn and Heavenly Father knows so much more than we do. I don't think Heavenly Father so much hands out trials as he offers opportunities and we accept some of the goodness he offers by how we face our trials. I think this is what the apostle Paul was speaking of to the Corinthians when he said, Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.
When my friend and neighbor made the statement that prompted all of these thoughts there were some in the congregation who have experienced having a child stray, and there were some who could only imagine what it must be like, but people in both situations were probably either feeling compassion for the woman, gratitude for children who hadn't strayed, or hope for children who had---all good feelings. Heavenly Father makes sure that blessings come in many ways and often many people will eat of the fruit of one seed. The trials of those we love become our trials. While loved ones learn divine lessons we learn some of our own. We have promised to bear one another's burdens. Our Savior has suffered all so that he could succor us in our time of need.
Sometimes I think I have the answers to Why? Why me? Why now? Why this? But then something that I perceive to be so much bigger than myself happens and the answers seem to elude me. It can be very difficult to make some experiences fit in our minds and our hearts but like Heavenly Father told the prophet Joseph Smith when Joseph was suffering greatly in Liberty Jail, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. Sometimes we need to let go of our questions and take comfort in the fact that Heavenly Father knows the answers. I know I have a lot to learn but I am thankful that I can learn a lot if I so choose.
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