Achy Heart

Ralph died last week and was buried next to his bride.

Every day, I look at his house across the street.

It is the same, and it will never be the same.

(Ralph reading Stegner to me, in the car)

Ralph's son, Ron, read a little verse by Edna St. Vincent Millay, one of Ralph's favorite poets, at the service. 

"Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you."

After School Dancing

You know how sometimes you have a moment that you think of and it just makes you happy?

This is one of mine.

Day 2 of school.

We're out on the back deck after school, eating these frozen juices from Costco (insert: so good!).

He was ebullient, and I was listening as he told me about everything that had happened that day. 

And I was playing one of his favorite songs (K'naan's Coca Cola Celebration's version of "Wavin' Flag") over and over.

This girl fell asleep on me,

and I watched him dance and dance in his happiness.

Apple Pie 4th of July

This morning I woke up the kids at 5:15. 

(the boys in 2007 at the Provo balloon fest)

We headed to the hot air balloon fest in Provo because I completely spaced the balloon fest for our city days this year. 

(Which, as a side note, was a total bummer because it's so small-town charming: smaller and less people (always what I prefer cuz I'll take the quiet most any day), free donuts and juice, candy thrown from the balloons.  Anyway...it's awesome.)

So, 5:15 it was.

We met up with Scott when we were there, and once it was over, the older three headed to the parade with him.  

But not this guy.

He didn't want the crowds or the heat, so he headed to the store with me to get apples for apple pie.

And it was so perfect.

Maybe it's cuz they're twins, but I hardly ever get one-on-one time with the boys. 

But it's the best.

Made my whole day, those two hours.

We came home and sat at the kitchen table talking and eating breakfast together, and then laughed at ourselves as we snapped some silly photos.

Then, it was aprons on and we got to work.

(We both love to be in the kitchen.)

Got the apples peeled, and then we sliced them; some to be steamed, 

some left raw.

Put the raw ones in the bowl and added spices and sugar and tapioca.

Steamed the others, and he was stirring regularly so nothing got burned as I made pie crust and rolled out the bottom layer.

Once the steamed apples were done, we combined the two, and Isaiah kept commenting on the smell.

(It smelled like fall as the sunshine streamed in.)

Put the bottom crust in the pie plate and then ladled the filling in.

Isaiah cut up a cube of butter in sections and placed them across the top.

 I rolled out the top crust and put it on, cut the sides, folded them under, crimped the edges.

Put slices down the top.

And then, to be festive, we added a star of dough, and stuck it in the oven to bake while we listened to The Weepies and talked and cleaned up.

(Cuz how American is it to make apple pie for the 4th of July?)

She's out now, and when she's cooled off, I'll sprinkle her pretty with sugar and maybe a little cinnamon.

This afternoon we're headed down to my sister's with all(most) of my family for rafting and playing in the pond, building castles in the sand, fried chicken, fried cauliflower (if you've never tried it, it's amazing! and I'm headed to the store in a sec to get it so the frying can commence), pinochle, watermelon, chips, salad, pies and homemade ice cream and fireworks in the street once it's dark.

Happy 4th of July, folks.

Hope you have a lovely one.

Cells and Wonder

I should be asleep, but it has been a great week with school. 

One of the things I think is so neat about being a parent is the opportunity to teach a child.  I feel woefully inadequate in many regards, but still really grateful and humbled at the gift I've been given to navigate life day-to-day with four other people.  They are teaching me a lot.

This week we were talking about cells for science.  We discussed a couple of basic characteristics and watched this video on YouTube.

After watching it a couple of times through, I looked over and saw that Benji's eyes were full.  And he said exactly what I was feeling.

"That's so inspiring."

And then, he followed that by saying, 

"It makes me feel really small."

I choked up, too, and told them that, for me, this is another instance where I see the wisdom of God and my own nothingness---that we are all miracles---that life, in so many beautiful, variegated forms, is miraculous.  I can't comprehend it and I don't understand it, but I am in awe of it.

It reminded me of a scriptural passage in the Book of Mormon where the speaker is admonishing his listeners to believe in God---that He is, that He created all things, that all things testify of Him.

A few minutes later, as we went back to other activities, I called down to Benji, wondering where he'd gone.  The answer?

He'd curled up on his bed, wrapped in a blanket, snuggling his favorite bear---because, as he said, he was "feeling small."

As a follow-up to yesterday, we made simple animal and plant cell models today.

But...my takeaway?

What I'm still thinking about?

I suppose I feel amazed at being continuously surrounded by miracles.

I may feel small.

But I also feel wonder.

Praise.

Reverence.

Life is such a beautiful thing.

And when I get to share it with my children and see that they feel something, I am particularly moved.

A Simple Fact

Everybody knows I take a lot of pictures of food.

It's kinda my thing---or one of them, anyway.

We spend a lot of time together, food and I---whether up close and personal being prepped in my hands, meeting my tongue, or somewhere in my mind.

Food has facilitated friendships, conversations, traditions, moments that tie so much together.

I think one of my sons is on to something tho.

We were eating dinner not too long ago and he jumped up to grab his camera to take a photo of what we were eating.

(Observation: like mother, like son, I guess.)

Anyway, he came back to the table and came out with something that made me grab my iPhone and write it down so I wouldn't forget because it kind of cracked me up.

"It's a simple fact: every good meal requires a picture."

And you know what?

I can't really disagree.

Big Brother

As a mom, you watch different relationships among your children.

I've watched these two ever since she was born.

Everyone around here loves Claire.

Come to think of it, they're all pretty tight.

We all like to be together.

But.

This little gal depends on this big brother.

She adores him.

There's something special between them.

She goes to him for comfort, she calls to him if she needs help.

Just the other day, when I was irritated about something, Isaiah is the one that heard her, discontent, and came to solve the issue.  Asked her to show him what the matter was.

I see this as being something they'll treasure.

And if they ever forget, I'll tell them.

I truly believe that we are sent here, in families, with people who were meant, 

specifically, to be with us.

Sure resonates as I watch these two.

Prayer Snippet

Last Thursday evening, we went to dinner at my "dad's" house -- which is not his any more.

Or do I call it my house?

Because it was mine---for many, many years.

Not a room is the same now, tho it still is the same house.

And I still feel comfortable there, strangely, and in a different way.

I don't come away feeling sad.

Maybe wistful would be a better word.

There is sadness there, but also a healing beauty of friendship and continuation.

It was a lovely place for my family.  

We grew there.  

Our memories are there.  

We were shaped there.

And now it will be a lovely house for another family---a sacred place for them, too.

And they are beautiful people, kind and good, with darling young children.

I am happy about that.

In any case, Bryant asked Benji to say the blessing on the food for dinner, and I found myself smiling as I heard what he had to say.

We stood in the kitchen, and he gave thanks. 

For everything that God has given us.

For the gospel.

And then, he asked a blessing on the food.

But my favorite thing that he said, that left me grinning?

"We're thankful that we have prophets now-a-days."

Now-a-days?!

(my heart.)

I love this.

So much.

I'm thankful we have prophets now-a-days too.

The Things He Says

Tonight, when Mr. C. came to pick up the kids, I had to tell him this story 

about Benji that had me so amused.  

We stood on the driveway and laughed hard.

After the boys and I had eaten dinner last week to celebrate their baptisms, we walked outside and had more of a religious discussion in the car before we left the restaurant.

We talked about Jesus as the literal Son of God.

I explained to them that this was true because He was the only mortal to ever walk the earth who was also a God.

This was so because His Father is God, the Father of us all.

To which Benji responded:

"Yeah, He was like Zeus, except that Zeus

shot lightning bolts out of his hands."

This kid, I tell you.

He makes me laugh.

I love him so much.

True Friends and a Little Boy Heart

This guy.

He is too cute for words, but I suppose most mothers say that about their sons.

I could say oh so much about him.

Mr. C. and I talk about him with love and adoration, exasperation, and...with great fondness.

I love him.

Tonight gave me a little window into his boy heart that I love so much.

It was kind of an off Sunday.  Mr. C. and Benji weren't feeling well, so the rest of us headed to church without them.

When we came home, Mr. C. and I alternated naps.  I lit a fire, he maintained it when I went to sleep.  When I got up, it was still stormy out, the sky gray, and the wind teasing the pampas grass outside.  The world was wet.

After scavenging for leftovers, we were eating at the table.  The boys started talking about their preschool days, and things that had happened.

Then, Benji came out with this.

"There's something I never told you that I did then that I regret now because I know it wasn't right."

?????????

I was curious.  I was expecting something along the lines of sneaking something or doing something he had been told not to do, or taking something that wasn't his or....you know, those sorts of things.  

But what came out of his mouth was classic.

It went something like this.

"Well, I would tell my teacher that I had to go to the bathroom, and you know how I'd sneak my baby (insert Mr. Bear, his favorite small stuffed animal, pal and companion through thick and thin, even in family portraits, formal and informal -- see below) in my backpack and it would be out in the hall in that thing?" (a locker)

(hard to see here, but he's clutched in his right hand)

Me: "Ya."

"Well, I'd tell her I needed to go to the bathroom, and I'd go out in the hall and get my baby and get in that thing (the locker) and shut it and just sit there and snuggle him for a few minutes.  Then I'd go back in and my teacher would say, 'You okay?' and I'd say, 'Ya.'"

And that was it.

I told him I didn't think that was wrong, but if he'd been doing some graffiti or taking something or damaging property, etc. -- that wouldn't be okay.

But it was one of the highlights of my day because it says so much about him.  

He has a tender heart.

He shows -- and isn't afraid -- his vulnerability and need for comfort and connectedness.  He goes with him to church, in the car, to bed, to breakfast, as a buddy in school, outside....basically, he takes him everywhere, and has since he was tiny.  He doesn't seem to care one bit that others might find it funny to have such a friend in a little stuffed companion.

But the other part of it?  

I found this young-in-mothering heart of mine thinking oh...if only.  If only the regrets in his heart in 15 years amount to relatively equal categories of "benign." 

Who knows?

But for the meantime, I'll take it.

And do you notice Mr. Bear in all these photos?  I have soooo many photos with this gentle friend, including one of Benji snuggling him, while snuggling with my dad, the day before he died.

I think we all need gentle friends.

They make the going a little bit easier.