Conference Countdown

I found this on Facebook last night. What a SUPER idea someone's had. There was such a positive response from my friends that I thought I'd post it here as well for those who aren't on Facebook.

Our Stake President has challenged all of us in our stake to read a Conference talk each day. This is such a great way to achieve that goal and countdown to the next General Conference on March 31st and April 1st.

For my non-LDS friends, this is a great way to come to understand what those of the LDS faith believe.

Here's the link for you....

Conference Countdown

The Omens of Death

Thirteen years ago this month, my mom passed away. I need to get this out in the open...I miss her. I probably didn't need to say that because, if you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you already know that.

It's a strange thing, but every year at this time, I get into a bit of a funk. It's like something inside me keeps time--my biological clock?  Usually, I start to feel a bit low and then when trying to figure out why, I realize that it's March. Last year, I mentioned how I was feeling to a friend, and she commented, "Well, Julie, isn't this about the time of year when your mom passed away?" That, somehow, gave me the reassurance that this wasn't going to last forever, and I was able to get above the feelings.

Please bear with me as I think, this year, I may try to get some memories out of my brain and down on this blog.

***

Thirteen years ago, life was VERY interesting. What I share here, you will think is a big fat lie, but I promise, this is just as it was. You can check with the Warden. We lived, at a time of death in our family, surrounded by death.

In July of 1997, we moved to a house out in the country at the end of a gravel road on the top of a hill in Monmouth, Oregon. We had two children (ages 3 and 1) and were expecting our third, who was born two months later. We were housesitting for a couple who were on a mission to Africa. One of our jobs was to feed and take care of their cat.  We enjoyed living there.  The scenery was beautiful and peaceful and the house was wonderful.  We felt it a real blessing to be there.

After residing in the home for a number of months, in about March of '98 (when #3 was about six months old), we had gotten word that the Warden's grandmother had a brain tumor. The Warden's mother went to Pocatello, Idaho, to take care of her. We were awaiting a phone call any minute that would inform us of her passing.

My mom, during this same time, had been diagnosed with colon and bone cancer, and we were packing our kids into the car twice a week to help take care of her in Portland (an hour away).

Let's just say that, whenever the phone rang, we jumped.

Daily, during this time, the cat would leave us little "presents" on the doorstep. You'd go to step outside to the carport, and there would be the daily offering--usually a vole or a mouse--on the mat. The cat had done this previously from time to time, but this was everyday. She never missed. I got so I dreaded leaving the house only because of the death the lurked there. It was definitely a "look before you leap" scenario everyday. You never knew what you were going to find; don't step too hastily.

Eventually, in late April of 1998, we received the phone call from the Warden's mother. Her mother, the Warden's grandmother, had passed away, and we were heading to Idaho for her funeral. We were there for a few days and returned. I remember being anxious about being away from my parents and their situation for too long.

The day after we returned from Idaho, I was sitting on the couch reading a book to #1 and #2. As I read, #1 stood up on the couch and looked out of the window behind us. She said, "Mommy, look at the big birdie." I turned around and sure enough, there was a bird. A vulture was circling the house and swooping. I knew this was a sign that death was nearby.  Being the chicken that I am, I didn't go out and investigate--I was scared. I was pretty sure no vole or mouse was causing this.

About a half hour later, the doorbell rang. It was an exterminator who came around every few months. I greeted him and sent him off to his work around the perimeter of the house.  I know what you're thinking--"Don't go out there!  Get back in your truck and DRIVE AWAY!"

After only a few minutes, he returned to the door and explained to me that there was a deer carcass right out at the back of the house next to the pool. He wasn't allowed to touch it or go near it, so before he could finish his work, I'd have to take care of it.

That was NOT going to happen that day. That big guy I'm married to would be riding up on his white horse later in the evening, and he would take care of it for me. So, I sent the exterminator away telling him that we'd call him when it was taken care of. He had also explained to me that it was very strange for a deer to come so close to a home to die. It was clear to him that it had been there for a few days. Needless to say, I was NOT going to go out to inspect.

Do I have to say that at this point I was pretty freaked out? No? I didn't think so.

Well, the deer stayed there for a few more days--so much for my brave knight. We had called the county and every other agency we could think of but no one was willing to do anything for us. Since it was on private property, it was our job. Ick! We were both freaked out about having to take care of a dead thing; I mean, a vole is one thing, a DEER, however, is a completely different story. We're city folk, what can we say? But, eventually, the Warden got his nerve up and got out there and did the deed  My hero!  I would say, though, that that experience would rank right up there being one of the grossest things he's ever had to do.

It just so happens, that a few nights later, while in bed, we heard a roaring engine coming up the gravel road to the house. We ran to the door and looked out the window to see a white van come zooming up right toward the house. The headlights shone in our eyes. As soon as it came, it was gone. It drove around the house and took off back down the road.

The next day, there was another deer carcass found on the gravel road just below the house.

I have often looked back and wondered why. Why when we were facing death so imminently, did it seem to surround us on all sides?  There was no avoiding it. We have never had any experience like this since, thankfully.  I will add, however, that the cat's gifts, as I recall, seemed to be a bit more sporadic after this, but they didn't fully stop until the day we moved.

In July of '98, we moved to the home we live in now. Our move had nothing to do with getting away from the omens of death.  At the time they were happening, I was so engrossed in concern for my parents and the Warden's grandmother, that I don't think I fully appreciated the weirdness of what was going on until it was over.

Thanks to the Warden's parents, we were able to be closer to my parents to help with my mom's care.  Something I will always be grateful for.  That will be a post for another day.

There's your story for the day, boys and girls.   Admit it....you were scared.  Weren't you?

It Takes Guts

When I was pregnant with #4, I pulled up to the gas station to fill my car's tank.

The guy, who seemed very nice, after he started the filling process, came to my window and very kindly asked, "Do you have a T.V.?"

"Yes," I replied thinking he was going to tell me about some great show he'd seen or something, "Why?"

"Well, because you've got three rug rats in the back there and one in the oven?  Thought you might just not have a T.V."

This guy kept his kind demeanor as he advised me on how not to have children.  He explained the joys and benefits of vasectomies.  He, in the kindest way possible, told me I was an idiot, took my money and sent me on my way.

Now, I was raised in a house that wasn't without contention, so I can be pretty quick with a comeback when called upon, but in this particular case, I left flabbergasted.  I didn't have a comeback.  I was in shock.  Did this complete stranger really just brow beat me to my face, and I just sat there and TOOK IT?!  So unlike me.

I turned down a couple of streets and the comeback occurred to me, and I was kicking myself for not saying it:  "I'll bet your parents wish they'd've known about all of this before you were born."

I think, looking back, that it was a bit of a tender mercy that I kept my mouth shut that day.


Coming back to present day....

I was talking to a good friend on the phone yesterday.  She shared that she had been listening to a woman on the radio that afternoon.  The woman was expounding the virtues of not having children.  Why in the world would anyone want to have children?  WHAT?!

Is that what we've come to?  What would my life be like without its greatest joys?  What would I be like?

I guess as I ponder this today, I only have one thing to say about it all....

I just hope that my children have the GUTS to live in this society, as a husband and a wife, and have as many children as they want to have, and that they, in this society, have the GUTS to raise their children themselves in their own homes in the best way they know how--that those children will be a benefit to whatever society they live in and that the world will be a better place because they are in it and because they had my children as their parents.

I've been told that by not working outside of the home, I "don't contribute."  Oh puhleeeze!  There's got to be an argument against my staying home and raising my children better than that one.  My sacrifices are my contributions.  This life isn't all about me.  It's about what I sacrifice for the good of others.  That's what makes me who I am.  That's why I'm alive.

When we were in Japan, we saw so few children.  Honestly, when I'd see children, I'd get my camera out.  The birth rate in Japan is 7.31 per 1,000 people, and it's dropping every year.  They are a dying society.

The Japanese culture is astounding.  I would hope that every American would have the chance to experience the Japanese way of life--caring for your family, the sense of community, the caring for others and the sense of honor and putting others before yourself.  We can only hope that those numbers will rise again.

So, this woman on the radio, is this what she wants for us?  Our extinction?

Yes, raising children isn't a walk in the park.  It's more like a climb up a very rocky, treacherous mountain.  I don't know about you, but a walk in the park is nice, but a climb up a mountain is life altering.  As the days go on, it seems like climbing this mountain takes more and more guts.

I honestly wonder what the gas station attendant would think of me now.  So, I guess for now and forever more, my answer will be, "Fill it up with regular, please, and no, I don't own a T.V. (any more)."  I only hope my children will have the guts to do the same.

A Child Shall Lead Them

The other day, I was in the position to just sit and watch an interaction between one of my boys, who was feeling angry at the world, and #7.  Wow, did I learn a lot from those few moments!

#7 walked into the room, and the brother, just feeling ornery, said, "Shut up, [#7]!"  She had nothing to do with the trouble this brother was in.  He was just plain angry (Why is it so much easier to be angry at the world than it is to be angry at yourself?).  Well, these words aren't allowed in our house, but the child was already in so much trouble that I decided that this was one battle we weren't going use for further fuel on what already existed.  He said it again and again.  She continued to walk toward him.

She picked up his stuffed bear and handed it to him.  She turned around and walked out.

Message received?.....

Awhile later, the boy child was becoming sad because of the predicament he'd caused himself because of his poor choices--basically being in a time out in his room.  #7 entered again.  He started saying mean things to her...again.  She just walked toward him completely unphased and took her fingers and ran them through the front part of his hair.  As she did so, she smiled at him and then laughed.  She stopped, picked up his stuffed bear from off the floor...again, and handed it to him as if it was hugging him.

She turned and walked out.

This time, there was no doubt the message was received.  He grabbed the bear, hugged it tightly and cried, wailing, "Oh [#7], I LOVE YOU!!!  I'm sorry!  I'm so sorry!"

This was what ran through my mind at that moment.  So grateful for the lessons my children teach me.