JAZZED!

Last night we went to the Jazz game. Rach gave us tickets for Christmas. We had a huge snowstorm yesterday but it was over and the roads were pretty-much cleared by the time we went. The Jazz played the San Antonio Spurs. That's not a good thing, usually. They never beat the Spurs. And Tim Duncan is always a whiner. We parked at the Gateway and walked across the street. Our seats were high up but right at half-court. It was great. Dad and I realized we hadn't been out like that for a long time. Before the game started they had a moment of silence to honor Pres. Hinckley. That wouldn't happen in a lot of places. The Jazz won! 97-91. It was a great game and we had loads of fun. Our thanks again to Rach for this very, very fun gift.

Passing

I don't like the phrase "passes away" or "passed on" or anything like that. I don't like "died" either. But regardless of what I like, Pres. Hinckley has died. That's a big thing. I am sad to realize that we will not be seeing him wave his cane or smile at his little jokes any more. He has been a presence in our lives for a long time. But I am overjoyed at the thought of his reunion with his wife. (How excited she must have been to know he was coming.) And reunions with his dear friends like, Pres. Faust, Pres. Hunter, Elder Maxwell, Elder Haight and many others.

Pres. Hinckley was born when Mama was 11 yrs. old. Daddy was almost 19 and would soon go on his own Mission to England. Mama and Daddy knew a lot of Pres. of the Church and apostles, but I don't recall ever hearing them mention Gordon B. Hinckley. They were both gone before he became Pres. Hinckley.

For all of our grandchildren, Pres. Hinckley is the only church president they remember. That was the way it was for me and Pres. McKay. I saw George Albert Smith once when we were visiting my grandparents on the Avenues. But mostly it was Pres. McKay. When he died in 1970 people were heard to say, "what will we ever do?" He had been president since 1951. But he was old and weak and unable to attend General Conference before he died. The beauty is that the church will not miss a beat. We will all be sad and will mourn Pres. Hinckley, and rejoice for him, but the work will not be interrupted. We were spoiled. We thought he would last forever, maybe, like I did with my mother. When we saw signs of weakness, as we did at the Christmas Fireside 2007, we hoped they were temporary. But they weren't.

Let me tell you something I learned when my parents died. Especially my mother. It always hurts. Be careful what you say to people who have just lost a parent or spouse. I don't ever say "she lived such a good life...you were so lucky" or "she's in a better place." All of that is true. But I was 9 months pregnant and missed my mother. That's what I learned. It's a very selfish time. You miss them and think about your life without them.

But, back to Pres. Hinckley. This morning's paper had a whole section just about him. Ellen brought it over for us. Pictures of him and things he has done, places he has traveled and so many things he has said. I am grateful for his life and I will miss him.

Anniversaries

Today is the 75th anniversary of my parents marriage. January 25, 1933. That's a long time ago. We have been married for 42 years. If my calculations are correct, our oldest child will celebrate 20 years of marriage this year. So we don't come close.

When Mama died in 1979, at age 80, they had been married 46 years; had 5 children, and 21 grandchildren. One month after her death Jed was born and a few days after that Ann Schiess was born. Totaling 23 grandchildren. At that time there were no great grandchildren from their 5 children, but now there are lots.

In January 1933 Mama was 33 and Daddy was 41. Kind of late in life to start a new family. Mama had waited a long time for this blessing. She had seen Daddy at the Agricultural College (now Utah State) some time earlier. She said when she saw him she was going to marry him someday. It took a while. They started dating when he lived on the Avenues, not far from Grandma and Grandpa Nelson and Mama. Grandma Nelson was not happy about it, since Daddy was divorced. Grandma Nelson was good at letting her feelings be known.

Since I am their youngest child, I have always been grateful that they continued having their family. I still miss them, even though they have been gone for close to 30 years.

Remembering

Dad and I serve on the West Bountiful Arts Council. We do good things for the community. One of the best is a free concert the 2nd Friday of every month, featuring local talent. Last Friday the performer was Mike Murphy. (How many of you took guitar from him at Viewmont?) This was an encore performance for him. He was our very first concert and we didn't quite know what we were doing then, so we invited him back 11/2 yrs. later.

He sings a lot of original songs and accompanies himself on the guitar. Friday night he used a vocalizer. He pushes a button with his foot and suddenly his voice is singing two parts in harmony. The vocalizer follows the guitar chords. It was so cool.

Anyway, he sang a lot of his songs and then a lot of John Denver. We used to play John Denver all the time. The first one he sang was Grandma's Feather Bed. Memories flooded. I could see you kids running around in the living room, singing "nine feet high, ten feet wide, soft as a downy chick." I also remembered all the times we piled on our waterbed and watched Mash, or whatever else. Somewhere in the house there is a picture of a lot of us on the bed. If I can find it, I'll post it.

We listened to Neil Sedaka ("OOH, I hear laughter in the rain, walkin' hand in hand with the one I love") and Helen Reddy a lot ("I am woman, hear me roar"). Especially when we lived in the apartment while we were building this house. I can't find those albums, though. I found a ring tone of Dave Matthews' "Ants Marching." I'm tempted. Guess my tastes have expanded.

"Born of goodly parents"

Today we read chapter 1 of 1st Nephi. We have read all of the title pages and testimonies and then today we started. It is good to be back in the Book of Mormon. I started reading and got teary and Dad said, "if you're going to cry all the time..." We both get emotional a lot.

But...I was born of goodly parents. My father may have been the most honest man I have ever known. And never, ever did I hear him swear. He was over 50 when I was born. We were pals. I was the last child of his second family, so I was his eighth. He had grandchildren who were born before I was.

I would often ask him to carry me and he would say, "I can't. I've got a bone in my leg!" That was all I needed to hear. (I was young.) I thought that was a perfect explanation. Daddy had a temper. He and Uncle Bill yelled at each other a lot. I don't remember his yelling at me, though.

My mother was little. But she was a doer. Her name was Lola Samantha and her mother's name was Samantha. That is why we named our first Samantha. Not because of the TV show Bewitched. Mama was 44 when I was born. She had 5 children in 10 years and nearly lost her life with many of us. The doctor in Salt Lake advised her not to have any more after Aunt Carol. They had already moved to California but returned for Aunt Carol's birth. So I was the only one in the family born in Calif. The story goes that when Mama and Daddy got to the hospital the doctor was already washed up and waiting. Didn't know why. If he hadn't been, neither of us would have survived. Blessings.

Change

They're shouting it all over the news today. The results of yesterday's Iowa caucus are a mandate for change. I think the need for change goes without saying. That's why the 22nd amendment limits the Pres. to two 4yr. terms. We need change in political leadership. We were crying for change at the end of Clintion's terms, too. (At least I was.)

So we got change. Now we are in a war that most of us are tired of. That war has had an effect on the economy. So we cry for change, again. It's a good thing. Too bad we don't limit the number of terms Senators and Representatives can serve.

But this particular election, for me, is not so much about who gets elected as it is about who doesn't. I could support Romney; I think I could support Huckabee; I could support Obama or Edwards. (I hope my father isn't hearing me say I could support a Democrat.) We need leaders who can get things done. But we also need leaders with moral fiber. I still think that is something of great importance.

We have many diverse opinions in this family. I don't know how my Dad would feel about that--he'd probably understand--but I think it's great. That means we're all thinking about and caring about it. And after all, it has nothing to do with how much we love and respect each other.

Routine

Today is a day of returning to routine. Every Wed. morning Dad volunteers at the Family History Center in Bountiful, but the center has been closed for the holidays. It opens again today. And today the neighborhood kids return to school. Last night I had this strange feeling come over me. I realized it was coming from my childhood days. I used to hate going back to school after summer vacation or Christmas vacation. So much so that I would get sick and throw up almost every time. (I didn't get sick last night, but still had that strange feeling.) I'm not sure why this was. I really enjoyed school and always had a lot of friends. I suppose it was just the idea of change. This last fall was the first time since Samantha started school that we didn't have one of our children going back to some sort of school. That was real change. Now we have lots of grandchildren going to school and I think of them every time a vacation ends.

Alex asked why we always had Cheerios and never something exotic like Ghostbusters cereal. I tried to be a little bit health oriented. Somehow I felt it was better to feed you the sawdust in Cheerios than the sugar in Ghostbusters. Alex always loved Trix. If he was at the market with us, as we approached the checkstand he would often say, "oh, we forgot the Trix." Do you remember that we used to put little boxes of that kind of cereal in your stockings for Christmas? Alex's was always Trix.

But it wasn't always cereal. We had boiled eggs a lot. Some of you liked soft, some hard. French toast was a favorite, usually saved for Saturday. Now that we're so health conscious we have to check carbs and fat and everything else before we can think of buying it, let alone eating it. It's made me have to wear my glasses when I go to the market without Dad.