Spring's Annual Geological Dig

Some count the first day of spring by the calendar, March 20th. For some it's the first shoots of daffodils or tulips peeking their heads above the thawing ground. For me, well, it's the day I decide to finally unearth the floor of the mom-mobile from beneath the layers of winter snacks and corroded sippy cups.

I've known for a week or two that something was definately "rotten in the state of Denmark". But it's still been so cold and rainy out that I've ignored it. Just lowering the windows long enough to not soak the seats but still give a bit of fresh air. On Friday, I had no excuses, it was a warm and gorgoeus day. The kids had a vintage Mickey Mouse video from the library and I set to work with trash barrel and hose at the ready.

The culprit: not one, not two, but FOUR! Deteriotating little gremlins of milk needs past. I couldn't, of course, just throw them away because we parents all know how much we get suckered punched in the wallet for those things. So I lined them up along the house for Phil to spray down before attempting the dishwasher.

Photo Op For Your Benefit:


Alas, the cups couldn't be saved. But the hose did create a nice little splash zone for the youngun's. And beneath the layers of trail mix, cheerios, chips, books, toys, discarded clothing, and the such was my van. The one I never wanted but couldn't live without! Next year, I look forward to fermenting fiends of formula lying amongst the other rubble. Proof that our lives move forward as time marches on.

Returning To Normal...

Since my last post I have had so much time to think about family, life, death, and what it means to grieve.

When my grandfather passed I was so relieved. His life without Grandma would have been cruel in its living. And flying out to California gave me time with family that has helped me to heal. Phil and I chose to leave he and the kids at home. We didn't really feel this was the appropriate time for hJacob to be hanging out with cousins. He would understand too much while emotionally not being able to cope with any of it. As it is he and I have had many conversations concerning death. We still have a family vacation planned in October. And we are all looking forward to that.

I have a really awesome family. Some get along better than others but that's in every family and with one as large as ours the odds are still pretty good. I'm grateful for the reunion last year which helped to bring us closer and gave us the foundation to lean on each other in our time of need.

I'm grateful for my dad, and all that he had to shoulder as oldest son, and now patriarch of our Elison branch. I'm not sure he sees himself that way, but my generation is now looking to him. I'm grateful for my brother, his wife, my sisters and their spouses and children. I especially enjoyed getting in some quality time with my nephew, Quinn, who I haven't had much time with.

I'm grateful that my cousin Sharon is still excited in planning our next in 2011. And the opportunity I've had these last few years to build a sweet friendship with. I'm grateful for my cousin Stewart, who created a beautiful video for the memorial luncheon and made copies for all of us. He was such a goof as a kid, but now he's come into his own as family photographer and video-historian. He's still a goof, but I'm so much more appreciative of his sweet nature and quick laughter.

I'm grateful for elderly great-aunts and uncles who came and supported our family and who hugged us grandkids who still so desperately need our grandparents. We range in age from 40's down to teens. But we still need to hear the stories from grandpa and to hold hands with grandma. We love our parents. And we know that they loved their parents. But our grandparents had such a special relationship with us grandkids seperate from their own children.

They were what grandparents were suppose to be. Warm, inviting, treat giving, unassuming, fun and simple. They didn't have much but what they had they gave with an open heart. My grandma has always been my hero, my best friend, my ideal. She wasn't very syrupy sweet but she loved us. I literally have tried my whole life to walk in her shoes. As a teen, everyone made fun of me because I was always borrowing her old lady sandals. And I loved them! I still do. I have her feet. As many of us kids do, and my feet have always been my favorite body part.

My faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ is my own. My testimony comes from my own studies and experiences but its seed was planted at the knee of my grandfather. I love the scriptures because he taught me how. I cherish family history because I spent countless hours listening to him and begging for more. I will miss calling him up after each General Conference to discuss the talks given. That was something we could share even when separated by so many miles.

I am grateful to have been blessed with peace during this past week. But today I'm sad for me. Today I've had to fight tears in each of my classes and have finally given way to them while I sit here and write. But I'm ok. I know I'm ok. Years are going to pass and I will still have moments of sadness because there will be times when I will need to sit hand-in-hand with Grandma and share a diet Coke and can't. I truly believe I will be with her again when it is my time to leave this earthly sphere. But those quiet porch moments are now gone forever.

Now it's time to take my children to the park across the street. They've been waiting patiently for an hour and Jacob has become so sensitive to my crying. He's a sweet boy. It's time for us to play. So here we go, me and the next generation, hand-in-hand looking to the future.