Walmart

It's no secret that I am not a Walmart fan. They may have cheap prices, but they have too many stores. I don't think we need 18 of them along the Wasatch front. But, anyway, Dad had to renew his prescription yesterday. Something he does once a month at the Savon Drug inside the Albertsons store on Parrish Lane, which is right across the street from the new Walmart. Last year it was $16 each time. This year, after he changed doctors, it was $18.75. So yesterday he went in to pick it up and it was $4. The girl said, "we're giving you the Walmart price. And by the way, when you are in Walmart and see something you know we carry, check the price and tell us and we will match it." Dad didn't have the heart to tell her that he will never be in Walmart, afraid she would then wonder why she just gave him the Walmart price. So as long as we mention it, she said he would be getting that price. (Now I find myself wondering if I will be getting the Walmart price when I renew.) We now find ourselves taking advantage of the fact that we have a Walmart in our neighborhood. Go figure!

SAMANTHA

She was the first. From the time she was born I have had the title of Mother. That's what I wanted--to be a mother. She was born on a Wednesday afternoon at Good Samaritan Hospital in Los Angeles. The only one of our children not born at LDS Hospital in Salt Lake. (Is that why she's different?) We drove to the hospital early that morning and everything stopped. Since she was already a month late, the doctor told the nurses to start things going and I stayed. Dad read to me from Steinbeck's "Travels With Charley" for a while until the doctor came. (Dr. Ireland.) He told dad it would be a while, so maybe he should go home and rest. So dad did go home and rest. He came back in time for her birth, but dads couldn't come in the delivery room in those days, anyway.

We named her Samantha. There was a TV show at the time called Bewitched. The lead character was named Samantha and she was a Witch. Most people assumed we had named our daughter after the TV character. But it is a family name. My grandmother was Samantha Madsen Nelson and my mother was Lola Samantha Nelson Brimley. Dad was reluctant about the name so I said we could call her Mandy or some such thing. Well, I couldn't then, nor since, call her anything but Samantha. And no one else can call her anything but Sam. (Can you imagine her as Mandy?)

We took her home Saturday morning. Mama and Daddy fell for her immediately. (She called Daddy, Wilford, as soon as she was able.) When she was 9 mos. old we moved to Utah so that Dad could finish school. I will never forget the look on my mother's face as we pulled out in our Dodge Dart pulling a huge Uhaul. It was on this trip that Samantha got sick with her first ear infection. We didn't find out what was wrong until we got to Salt Lake two days later.

Being a mother was a dream come true. I can't say I have always been the best, but I can say I have always loved it.

Samantha is the child who first made me a grandmother, too. So the cycle goes on. I watch her -- mother, serve, and befriend and I thank my Heavenly Father for sending us children who would teach us so much and be such great examples.

THE WOUND

I thought we should have a permanent record of the actual wound. Samantha has taken pictures of it several times in an effort to let Matthew get a good look at it. This one seems to be the best. We haven't taken any pictures of his knee. Part of the tank must have hit his knee. It is swollen and bruised. So let this be a lesson. I'm not sure what the lesson is, but let it be a lesson.

GRATITUDE

It has been a while. Not that nothing has happened. Dad's birthday, my birthday, Father's Day and everything else. But the summer in Utah means mowing the lawn, pruning roses, and on and on. So here I am again. We are in Virginia. We have witnessed Lanie's baptism, Tyler becoming an Elder and receiving his Patriarchal Blessing. All events were wonderful. Now we spend a few days just doing stuff.

Yesterday was our 43rd Anniversary. To celebrate, Dad was working on the demolition of Samantha's bathroom downstairs. The toilet needed to be removed. He couldn't loosen all of the bolts, so he pulled and pulled. Guess he's stronger than he thought. Broke the tank in bits. In the process he cut his wrist badly. After he carried a bunch of stuff to the garbage can, he realized he was leaving a trail of blood. He had a deep cut on his wrist about 3 inches long. (Actually it turned out to be 4 centimeters.) Samantha took us to Patient First. As soon as they saw what had happened they took him right back and started the treatment. Ten stitches and a tetanus shot later, he seems to be fine. He's all bandaged up and taking antibiotics. And now he's ready to continue with the demolition. (Let's hope without incident.)

I am so grateful. To have been with him all these years. To have the family we have. We learn so much from all of you every day. And to have His watchful care at all times.