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.

MOTHERING

It's all I ever wanted to do. Long before I was old enough to understand that in order to be a mother, I would need a husband, I wanted to be a mother. I'm not sure why. Maybe because I loved my mother so. But more than that, I think the spirit let me know it was what I was to be. And so it happened. A husband and children. And who could ask for anything more! The best husband.and seven of the best children. Dad always says the Lord gave us such great kids because He knew we wouldn't ruin them. (At least He hoped we wouldn't.)

Not long ago I said I never remember needing to get away from my family. I know I did get away, but it wasn't because I needed or wanted to. And now look. They all got away from me. (Serves me right, I guess.) But all are happy and productive. That's what matters. And we are all a phone call, or Skype, away.

And so on this Mother's Day I thank you all. My children and their spouses and children. You are the ones who have made my dream of motherhood come true. Your need for mothering from me has long since gone. But it is still a blessing to be your mother, mother-in-law, and grandmother.

SARAH

Today is Sarah's birthday. I don't know much about her early life, except that she was born in Walnut Creek, Calif. But I know that she met Alex during the Fall semester 1995 at BYU. She lived in a home across the street from Liberty Square.
I remember the day she lost her engagement ring. We were in Provo at the time in Alex's apt. I don't remember if she called Alex and told him or if she ran over and told him. But she was upset and we all ran to her place. She had already looked everyplace and we all looked again. I think I remember that Dad and Alex took the drain apart but I can't remember if it was in the pipe or someplace else. I just know they found it. She was so relieved. It was a traumatic moment.
What I do know is that she is a wonderful mother. She and Alex give their children every opportunity to see and do the things around them. And she helps them do the most creative things. I also know that she and Alex love to cook together and are not afraid to try new things. That's a good thing, too. Having Sarah as an Eastman is a great thing.

What I Thought I Knew

I know that William Jedediah Brimley is my grandfather. I know I never met him. He died in April 1943. I know that my grandmother is Margaret Kirk. I never met her. She died in 1930. In the 1880 census in Salt Lake they were both shown living with their families in the "5th Ward." She was 13 and he 24. (It says 24, but our records would make him 23.) His occupation was listed as "teamster." Aunt Janeen thinks he delivered groceries from their store in the wagon. In 1885 they married and in July 1891 they were sealed in the Manti Temple. My Dad was born in Manti in 1891, the fourth child. Aunt Janeen says they lived in Manti for one year. I also know that my Dad loved his father very much and that he practically worshiped his mother.

What I didn't know is: on September 20, 1927 William Jedediah was sealed in the Salt Lake Temple to Elizabeth Helen Evans, who died in 1883 at the age of 19. Dad and I looked at the actual Temple record of this event yesterday at the Family History Library. We know the name of the officiator, the names of the witnesses, the name of the proxy who stood in for Elizabeth, and we know that William Jedediah stood for himself. What we don't know is who this woman was and how she knew my grandfather.

Looking at the census records has told me some things. I know that in 1880 Elizabeth lived with her parents in Salt Lake, in the "4th Ward." She worked as a servant for a family that lived in the "7th Ward." There was a child in the home where she worked who had measles at the time of the census. I saw a lot of measles on the censuses and in those days it was often fatal. So...if these two were married when they were young, it was only for a short while. They may have been sweethearts and never had a chance to marry. I am going to try to find a death certificate for her (so far, no luck) and see if it lists her as single or married at the time of her death.

Aunt Janeen has spoken to some of William Jedediah"s grandchildren in Arizona and they never heard of such a thing.

So we have a mystery! The new Family Search has uncovered several mysteries, but this one is ours. Suddenly I care about this woman. And I care more about my grandmother, Margaret Kirk, whose husband had to get at least verbal permission from her to have this sealing performed. I am learning that this is one of the most important results of Family History. We get to know these people and we learn to care about them a great deal. Elizabeth Helen Evans is no relation to me, but she must have meant something to my grandfather!