To Err Is Human...To Forgive Is Divine

One of the most shocking discoveries upon becoming an adult was learning that Dad wasn't perfect.  For a long time, I assumed that Dad was a bit God-like:  omniscient and omnipotent.  I wouldn't say the fear of those powers were what kept me on the straight and narrow for the majority of my youthful years, but the idea of his possible disappointment in me definitely contributed to my motivation to make good choices.  Years later, when some bad behavior and choices went undetected by Dad, the perk of avoiding his disappointment, not to mention his judgment and punishment, came at the cost of realizing he was human after all.

I think when he finally became aware of my actions and the consequences of my behavior, he was blindsided.  As baffled as I was by his surprise, I was more bewildered by the absence of any anger.  Instead, he was immensely concerned about me and offered me advice and help.  There was no question of his forgiveness because it was automatic.  After the dust had settled, I remember asking him why he was never suspicious of who I was with or where I was going.

"Dad!  You've been a bishop! You've been in a stake presidency!  You are a lawyer!  You understand human nature and that people get in trouble and do dumb things!" I reasoned.

"But those are stupid people!" Dad replied.  "And my children are not stupid people."

I still smile when I think of his response.  I love the faith he has in his children.   He may not be omniscient or omnipotent but he is merciful and full of charity... quite Godlike after all.

Self-Fullfilling Prophesies

Dad does not enjoy eating out.  Contributing to his cantankerous attitude towards the restaurant industry is the loud music played at many establishments, poor lighting, poor service and, of course, the inflated expense.  But, he claims that the thing that prevents him from enjoying restaurants the most is the quality of the food.  It’s just not as good as homemade.  

It might be due to how he requests it.  On one of his less agreeable outings, I recall Dad choosing a hamburger for dinner at a Red Robin or restaurant like it with multiple hamburger varieties on its menu.  

When the waitress came to take our order, he responded, “I just want a plain hamburger!”  He even made some slightly aggressive hand motions to emphasize his point.  

The food arrived and his burger sat there unadorned.  “It doesn’t come with onions?  Or tomatoes?  Or lettuce?” he complained.  

“Dad, you ordered it plain.  Remember?”  

He didn’t like his burger.  Surprise, surprise.  :)

The Boys’ Memories of Grandpa

Seth:

One of my memories of Grandpa took place at our house in Edgemont Ranch. Grandpa had come to visit us. Sam and I were of on summer break and we were horsing around and having a good time outside. During Grandpa’s stay with us, Sam and I were trying to see which one of us could complete this short little bike course on Henry’s tricycle. The course was a hill from our drive way to a little roundabout, the roundabout itself and them the hill again, but this time you had to peddle up the hill, which was quite difficult to do on a tricycle where you had to be really careful about your knees hitting the handle bars. So far neither Sam nor I had been able to successfully get up the hill without getting off the trike and walking up the hill. After this had been going on for a while, we had another person give it a go. This person was Grandpa. After finally managing to get himself on the tricycle he had his debut. I remember watching him come up the hill and on to our driveway. He wasn’t even breathing that hard! This is one of my memories of Grandpa.

One of my favorite things about Grandpa is how he wakes up super early in the morning and makes me hotcakes (Also known as pancakes). Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day by far and hotcakes is my favorite breakfast. Whenever I come to visit, grandpa will wake up super early in the morning and make me hotcakes or whatever other meal I feel like eating that day. Hotcakes has always been a special part of my relationship with grandpa.

Sam:

Something that I remember from when I was little about my Grandpa is that he will always take you to the park if you want to go. The park is humungous but with him it’s more merriment. If you want to play a game with him, he’ll play the game with you. If you want to be pushed in the swing he’ll push you in the swing. If you want to be pushed around in the tire swing then he’ll push you round in the tire swing.That is what I remember about my Grandpa when I was little. 

Henry:


being pushed on a tire swing.

playing at the whole park.

playing with the magnets at Grandpa’s house.

Walking to the museum.

working in the yard with him

Crossword Clues

This is Jay’s memory contribution:

“My dad’s name is Carl. And he’s an attorney”.

These words rang in my head as I drove with Lucy from Utah to Montana for the “first meeting” of whom I hoped would be my future father-in-law. I had been mulling over and over in my mind what this man might be like.  I imagined an intimidating, overbearing, condescending man, who would interrogate me like an opposing witness.

Fortunately for me, what I found was a humble, cheerful, helpful and righteous man, who welcomed me into his home and family as soon as I walked through the door.

While there for our visit, I sat down to breakfast that first morning with the Helena Independent Record.  Carl was already long gone for the day, having been up for hours before that, I’m sure.  As I lazily munched through some cereal, I solved the crossword puzzle, something I love to do.

One by one, each of Carl’s daughters found their way upstairs and asked me what I was doing.

“Solving the crossword” I answered smugly, with a bit of an air of “aren’t I smart”.

Sarah had a look of dread on her face when I said this, but I didn’t know why.  Lucy said, “oh no”.  Emily came and asked what had happened. “Jay did the crossword puzzle,” was Sarah’s answer.  Emily’s look seemed to be one of condescension and “how could you”. Maureen looked at the floor.  But Jennifer had the worst reaction.  What I imagined as a look of terror, annoyance, anger and shock crossed her face, as she said, “Wait ‘til dad gets home. He always does the crossword at lunch.”

“Really?”

“Always” Lucy and Sarah answered in unison while avoiding eye contact.

I tried to laugh it off, but I could tell by the somber tone in the room that I had committed a grave error. Karen tried to console me, patting me on the back and saying something like, “It’ll be okay. There are other crossword puzzles”.

This just made it worse.  I had crossed an invisible line, and now had to face a punishment that was merciless and inescapable. Like a gunfighter awaiting the dreaded showdown at high noon, I awaited the hour with apprehension and trepidation. Tick-tock-tick-tock the clock toned like a march to my grave.

For the next several hours I tried to forget my unintentional error – to no avail.  Jon and Tara came up and asked what was going on. “Jay did the crossword” came the piercing reply.  Each comment was as a dagger knifing me in my heart.  Day one of my attempt to make a good impression was going to end in an inferno of anger and excuses.

I tried to find a reason not to be home at that awful hour. Too late, I thought about going out to buy a new paper to replace the one that I had so carelessly desecrated.  I wanted to hide as I heard the car pull up the driveway.

“Maybe he won’t notice. Maybe I can distract him with conversation for an hour. Maybe he’ll be too busy today. “

Carl came in the house. He greeted his family.  He sat down for lunch. He grabbed the paper. He turned to the crossword puzzle.  I wanted to crawl inside the couch.

“Jay did the crossword puzzle,” Sarah blurted out before I could act. A deadly silence filled the room.

“I…I…I…I didn’t know you did it,” was my meager defense.

And then Carl did what he has since done a thousand times to me.  He smiled. No words were spoken, no accusations were hurled at my wounded ego, no censure was placed on my back.

He went back to his lunch, disappointed I’m sure, but without another word.  He never mentioned it again. 

However simple this example may seem, it was my first memory of the kindness, generosity, forgiveness and love that to me define my father-in-law.

Yes, he may be an attorney, but he didn’t prosecute or persecute me that day – or any moment since.  He truly demonstrates a love and charity toward his family, and acceptance to those of us who have joined his family, that is an example to me.

By the way, I never did his crossword again.

Driving Mr. Carl

Cars are not Dad's things.  If it has four wheels and runs, he's good to go.  I have lots of memories of road trips and various automobiles belonging to Dad.   Here are some of my favorites:

• Driving up the long, winding dirt road to see the giant golf ball at Island Park

• Taking the dirt road "shortcut" at Boulder to get to Sheridan.

• Overheating the diesel on McDonald Pass to Drummond.

• Getting out of the overheated diesel on McDonald pass only to watch Dad drive off without warning and watching plumes of black smoke come out of the exhaust while listening to mom cry, "Stop, Carl!  You're going to blow up!"

• Dad stopping once he realized he was probably going to blow up.  Then, having all of us that were traveling in two cars squeezing into one.  Then bottoming out and ripping a hole in the oil pan on the railroad tracks on the way to the church.  Then leaving an oil trail all the way to the church.  Then waiting at the church for a welder to come and fix the oil pan so we could drive home and pick up the station wagon that was hopefully cooled down.  

• Watching dad use two feet while driving - his right on the gas pedal and his left on the brake.

• Wondering when he was going to break when going around the curves on McDonald Pass.

• Wondering when he was going to use the windshield wipers if it was raining (he likes to get the windshield good and wet before he lets those wipers go to work).  

• When the Brown Beast died, Dad downsizing to a big blue car that WASN'T a station wagon.

• The loaner cars from Ron Benson when whatever car had most recently died.  My favorite was the white car with the red interior and gold hubcaps!  When we got whatever car had been repaired, Dad would always say, "It's like a new car!"  I get it now, Dad!

• Dad being nonplused driving the Oldsmobile Delta 88 after I had ruined the front seat in an accident.  It reclined deeply so he just used his stomach muscles sit upright.

• Dad striking up a conversation with a woman at a gas station on our great road trip back east and discovering they had a common acquaintance.  

• Stopping in Wisdom, MT for some unknown reason (lunch?) and Dad taking off in a sprint down the dirt road as soon as we were about to leave.  

These are just a few but they make me smile.  

Guiding Light

I didn't see it everyday but on those days when I stayed home sick from school or on summer days if I happened to still be around and not off playing with my friends, from 1:00 to 2:00 pm, everyday, I remember Dad heating up some leftovers in the microwave or maybe just cutting himself off a big piece of cheese and going to sit in the armchair next to the door in Grandma's room.  Together, they'd watch an hour of Guiding Light and then, without lingering, he'd be back off to his office and his afternoon's work.  

An adult's perspective changes a memory.  I honestly thought as a young child that Dad came home to eat lunch just so that he could watch Guiding Light.  It didn't occur to me then that  a man who has six children and a mother-in-law all living under the same 2,200 square foot of living space roof might justifiably choose to go elsewhere for lunch.  It didn't even occur to me that he probably didn't particularly enjoy watching a soap opera.  He easily could have packed a sack lunch and eaten at the office.  Or, like most men, he could have gone out to a restaurant with a business colleague or friend to relax.  But he didn't.  He came home for lunch.  And having that memory has taught me many things.  

First and foremost is that Dad loves his family.  He loved and respected Grandma Parker and I will be forever grateful to have been raised by someone who didn't talk about having compassion or being generous but WAS compassionate and very generous.  Also, this memory highlights Dad's abhorrence for restaurants and spending money on eating out but that's another memory.

Because I was young when the decision was made, I'm not privy to all the details that went into where Grandma Parker would live when she needed assistance but I'm so astonished and relieved that Dad was the kind of husband and son-in-law to give his children the opportunity to learn about love and service by having her live with us.  It must have been stressful - emotionally, financially, physically - for both Mom and Dad.  He could have handled the stress by choosing a hobby so that he had some alone time.  Instead, there Dad was, everyday, breaking bread with Grandma at lunch and following the drama between Reva and Josh.  

When Grandma died, I remember calling from the office phone at C.R. Anderson for a ride home because I had just returned from a few days at Las Vegas for a student council trip.  I asked how Grandma was doing, because she had stopped eating and been sick for several previous weeks, and Dad matter-of-factly said, "Well, she just died about 15 minutes ago."  

I cried.  I sat down on the linoleum floor of the office and cried in front of my friends and other curious students walking the halls.  It seemed cold to me that he wasn't weeping when he shared that news on the phone.  Worse, it seemed even colder to watch him smiling and laughing with family members and friends at her funeral.  

There is a picture somewhere that has Dad and Don Smith arm in arm next to Grandma's headstone, both smiling as if they had just spent the day at a ballgame instead of at my beloved Grandmother's funeral service.  To the side, I stand, watching and glaring at them.  I was too young then to appreciate Dad's complete faith and understanding in the Plan of Salvation.  Now, as a grown woman with a testimony of my own, I still marvel at his unwavering hope.  He was smiling because he knew death was not the end.  I know it too, thanks in large part to him.

Guiding Light might be the name of a silly daytime soap opera but but I'm forever thankful to Dad for watching it with Grandma. Because I have the memory of that simple act of service, I have a real guiding light to follow.

Memories Of My Father

My sweet papa turned 75 last Friday.   Since I can remember, he has hated money being spent on gifts for him and more than once, my dear mother’s feelings have been hurt as she has bought him something he actually needs, like shoes or pants, only to be scolded for her extravagance.  She has learned through the years not to take it personally, hang the new clothes in his closet and wait for a few months.  When enough time has passed or the hole in the bottom of his shoe has gotten large enough to bother him, out come the new things!

Needless to say, it is tricky to find a good gift idea for him.  In my younger years, when tape recorders were all the rage, I would simply place that boom box or recorder on top of the piano, push the button with the red circle on it and play my latest recital piece.  Believe me, as poor as the sound quality was on those old tapes, he liked them more than any new tie or wallet.

Emily came across a wonderful idea on Pinterest that involved friends, family, acquaintances, neighbors...really anyone that has crossed paths with a particular person writing and sending their memories of the person being celebrated.  She sent out a form letter to relatives, old law school peers, members of his current and old wards, neighbors, students, and more and with our own family memories included, he opened more than 75 envelopes on the day after his birthday (none of the kids visiting could get there in time on Friday make much ado on his actual birthday.  Like I said, he’s not the type to care).

I throughly enjoyed thinking and writing some of my memories of my dad.  We were only asked to write one, but once I started, I think I could have written 75 of my own had I had the time.  Instead, I managed four and the boys and Jay each added their own.  Because I want my own record, I’m going to post our memories.  I can’t wait to get home and read all the others.

Happy Birthday, Dad.  You are a hero to me.

Daniel - 23 Weeks

You light up my life!

May In Pictures (and some words. I just couldn’t help myself)

There are a lot of missed posts in the month of May. It is at least as busy a month as December with less cute decorations but better weather. We have been going non-stop and will continue for the next two weeks but I thought if I could pop this post out and at least get caught up in pictures then I wouldn’t feel like throwing in the towel and jumping over all this May hoopla. Because there has been some good hoopla!


Earlier in the month, Daniel started eating solid food.  Our pediatrician said to start introducing food when he seemed interested and after a couple of dinners when he kept swiping my plate and cup, I figured he was interested.  Oh, boy, is he ever.  This boy loves food!  So far, he has only tried rice cereal and sweet potatoes but he loves both.  It’s messy and time consuming and I don’t do it at the end of every day because nursing is so much quicker but when I do, he appreciates it.  I’m thinking of getting one of those baby food blenders I see on TV.  Has anyone tried them?  Is it a gimmick?




In his new high chair.  He likes to put his fingers or thumb in his mouth after every bit...which spreads the food mess love all over!




Have you ever heard of the Hershey track meet?  They are sponsored locally and those who finish first in their age group move on to the state level and then, I suppose, if they finish first there, qualify for the national meet.  Seth qualified last year but the state meet conflicted with another summer commitment.  This year, he was determined to qualify.  Sam was old enough to compete this year but ran against some pretty fast 10 year olds and got third in both his events.  Of course, to a perfectionist like Sam, third place means he is the slowest and worst runner ever but he did great.  I love watching him move.  He’s such an athlete.

At the start of the 50m dash.









It was close but he got third.

What a neglected third child does to entertain himself when dragged to all kinds of events for his older two brothers.  He has his own race!











“I’m fast, huh Mom!”

Sam’s 100m dash which was immediately after the 50 yard dash.  Sam kids.













Maybe next year, Sam!

Seth really wanted to run in the mile but it wasn’t offered in his age division so he settled for the 800.  It was a small group of runners and Seth’s strategy was to not start off too fast.

You can see him settling in nice and steady.


Nice and steady....



Wait a second!  Way too nice and steady.  Go catch her, Seth!



At the 200m mark on the final lap, Seth finally switched gears and started to kick.

















He caught her in the end and qualified for the meet in Denver (if he gets his grades up..Grrr) but I think he needs some coaching from Dad or maybe Uncle Rex.

May has been absolutely horrible for exercise.  I know I’m an excuse maker but it’s hard to fit it in with a newborn who is still figuring out his sleep.  The gym I pay to go to only has classes in the morning and then for the after work hour, which I can never make, so if I miss those 8 or 9 or 10 o’clock classes, out comes the baby jogger.  Daniel seemed to like it.



Henry’s kindergarten class threw a mother’s day tea party which turned into a parent’s day tea party because father’s day is in June.  Jay couldn’t make it and I was surprised again by their strict adherence to the tea theory.  They only served tea.  They did this at his preschool party and I think it is so bizarre.  Do kids like tea?

Here’s Henry performing one of the many songs they learned.  With his hands down his pants.  So proud!





What an absolute cutie.  I’m a lucky mom.  Who doesn’t drink tea.



May (and April.  And March) have been all about soccer for Sam and Seth.  Practices, extra practices, tournaments and more tournaments.  It is finally over and I’m not a bit sad about it.  I like that it gives them a team experience and it is wonderful exercise but this club soccer is way over the top, in my opinion.  I think some parents are already gunning for their kids to play in college or professionally and so it makes sane and reasonable parents like me seem lazy and whiny when I think it’s all too much.  But, I support them because they have committed to the season.  I’m still proud of them though for choosing not to play on Sundays, even when Seth’s team made it to the championship game in two different tournaments which were played on Sunday.



Sam was under the weather and as he is the dominant scorer on his team, they didn’t do so well.  Plus, this team was really, really good.  The ref was hilarious.  I’ve never seen a ref take his whistle and hand signals so seriously.  It was very reminiscent of Paul Blart, Mall Cop.



Go, Sam!



He takes a shot!

Seth’s team is much more intense.  These boys have been playing together since they were six or seven and Seth has struggled to find his place and feel worthwhile as this is his first year playing.  He contributes to the team with his speed and stamina (he can run for forever) but definitely plays with some inhibition and fear of doing the wrong thing.  In spite of all of this, he played his heart out at this tournament and even got yellow carded!  His teammates were shocked.  He’s one of the taller players so gets put in the line of fire when the opposing team gets a shot at the goal.  His priorities crack me up here.



At least they play on such a beautiful field.  I never mind being there.



With his running at school and outside races and soccer, he has developed a nasty shin splint.  Dad tapes him up.



Mother’s Day was a mother’s day.  Jay was on call and at the hospital all day and I was scheduled to teach the YWs lesson.  It’s probably a good thing May got so busy because I had a rather long-winded response to all the mother’s day complaining I witnessed which I’ll reduce to short form here.  Somehow, Mother’s Day turned into, “I don’t have to do anything” day which is a recipe for frustration, bitterness and feeling bad.  I don’t understand women who think it means sleeping in and skipping church or having nothing at all do to with their children unless it involves gift receiving and pampering.  All holidays have a materialistic and selfish alter ego and refusing to mother or thinking that it is the one day where you shouldn’t have to mother is a twisted interpretation, in my opinion.  It’s like saying, “Well, I’m thankful every day so on Thanksgiving, I will take a day off from being thankful.  I need a break from all that gratitude!”  Of course, mothers should be revered and respected every day, just like we should be patriotic and appreciative of our freedoms every day and not just on the fourth of July.  And don’t get me started on how I feel about the Sacrament meeting talk complainers.  Anybody that wants to can find a reason to rip on church meetings and those who speak.  We are a church of imperfect people.  So what if someone talks about his angel mother?  Or what if that guy mentions his hot wife?  It shouldn’t spoil your entire day.  If it does, then the speakers are not the problem.  I need to stop.  I promised this would be short.

Anyways....

Look at the blessings who call me mother.



A haircut might be nice.  Sam is looking awfully Miami Vice.



Here’s another picture of Sam.  He is such a good boy.


We went over to Vaughn and Patty’s for dinner on mother’s day as it was also Patty’s birthday and thus a double celebration.  Vaughn grilled some delicious steak and chicken and the boys enjoyed wrestling with Derek.  Daniel got some cuddles with Grandpa.



We scheduled our big YW girls camp fundraiser during the hectic month of May - a mistake I’ll never make again.  Because we have combined the 1st and 2nd wards for most mutual activities, it made sense to have a combined fundraiser.  It was definitely double the work but I’m not sure it was double the reward.  Thankfully, all the work, which was hours and hours of shopping and prepping in the kitchen and cleaning up afterward, was made better by working with these good women.



Henry had a tooth pretty much fall out the other day.  In pieces.  I took him to a pediatric dentist and the poor boy has to get the rest of the tooth extracted as well as crowns on most of his molars.  Between his super stubborn personality and all of his oral issues (tongue and speech things) he isn’t a very good brusher and it’s hard to help him.  As a result, he has almost $2,000 worth of work coming up.  Gulp.



More soccer pics!  This time, we were at a tournament in Grand Junction.  The weather was lovely and warm and my boys did great.  I was like a pack mule with the shade chair, umbrella, diaper bag, water and Daniel in a front pack.  That's my excuse for only getting a couple of pictures of Seth and none of Sam.  Bad mommy!





I am a huge fan and supporter of piano recitals.  We haven’t had many because Sam and Seth’s teacher had a baby this year but the music teachers in the area decided to have a combined recital at the college and I was happy both boys got a chance to perform.  Sam played Baroque in Bits and Seth played a duet with his teacher from the opera, Carmen, called “Gypsy Song”







All of the students take a final group bow.



Of course, we did our best to enjoy the rare solar eclipse but we didn’t have the right equipment to photograph the ring of fire.  Here’s my attempt anyway.



We did notice we got some funny shadows on the house from the eclipse.  Check out Seth’s webbed hands.



Sam and I practice our amphibian look as well.



Loved the eclipse’s effect on the tree’s shadow on our garage.



Jay pulls off science guy and builds a rudimentary solar camera.  The boys love these kinds of things.





Other random pics from my phone:

Nursing Daniel in the car between soccer games.



Daniel chilling with mom post meal.



Daniel discovering a new friend in the mirror.



Seth thinking and mom wishing she knew what about.



Seth and Sam eating at Chilis after a soccer tournament.



Jay and Daniel take a nap before church on Sunday.