Pictures!

I've finally found out how to post pictures. Yay! Heaven knows I've got plenty of them to share. Share with who, though? :)

A Review

I was just re-reading my other posts (all 4 of them), and I'd like to make a few comments. On my first post, aptly titled "A beginning..."--I'm not so sure that it would be so terribly embarrassing for someone else to read what I've written. It's not all that disturbing, after all. I've been reading some other people's blogs, and maybe I'm not so whacky after all.

"I Miss the Little Ones"--This one is kind of depressing when I think about it. But I think the reason it's depressing is that I am past the point of having my little children around and that I didn't write down my memories like so many other people I know are doing right now. What was I thinking? Did I really think I would be able to just remember all the witty and wonderful things that my 5 boys and my little girl said and did in their growing up years? (See? I'm welling up just thinking about it!) It's pretty sad.

It seems my entire life in the Church I've been at what I'll call an "odd age" compared to everyone else. When John and I were young marrieds there were very, very few if any other young marrieds in the ward. And at this point in our lives, we don't feel that kinship with any other couples, either. Is it that we're too picky? I don't know...

"San Diego"--Well, there's not too much else to say about that wonderful time. I could post some pictures, though.

And finally, when I was reading "Thoughts of August Last" I had sort of a revelation. I think that the reason I am still so sad about the death of my Dad can be found in the last paragraph. I don't think my Dad ever completely forgave me for going off to Washington, DC to be married in the temple. And he for sure never forgave John for taking me there. When the minister who performed his funeral was preparing his eulogy, he asked us to share memories of happy times with Dad. Everyone went around the room and told great stories of baseball games, weekend visits, and especially his famous steak dinners cooked on the grill. Only I sat there in silence. We, who lived here in the same town, were never once included in one of those weekend steak dinners, complete with homemade garlic toast and individual salads. How could that have happened? How could he have spent so much more time with and bonded so much closer to all of his grandchildren but the wonderful 6 that are mine? They missed so much. He missed so much.

So I guess my Dad went through the veil last August without ever forgiving his second daughter. I know I didn't do much during his life to try to help him realize how important the temple was to me. I was too intimidated by his sarcasm and his anger when it came to the Church. I can only hope and pray that after a year now he has begun to understand.

Thoughts of August Last

Boy, I've been dreading this. The month of August is nearly gone, and I've been able to put these voices out of my head for a couple weeks now. They tried to push their way into the front many times during that stretch in the middle of the month, but they always brought the threat of tears and sadness, so I pushed them back. I hope it wasn't disrespectful.

August 20th was the anniversary of the death of my Dad. Lots of dates in August now have more significance to me. August 14th was the day he went to the Emergency Room with what they thought was "just" another kidney stone. He ended up having emergency surgery for a ruptured aortic aneurysm. He "code blued" in recovery. The next day was, I believe, the last day that I saw him awake and was able to speak to him. He teased the nurses and was rude to Mom and talked about how they waited until the third daughter to name Marjorie and how she is the one who, in fact, is the Marjorie in the family. I was a little ticked off at how he was acting, but I'm pretty sure I gave him a kiss and told him I loved him before I left his room. On August 16th we passed his 72nd birthday at the hospital. They had put him in a drug-induced sleep, so Mom talked to him quietly about how they had had a date to go to Finley's for a free steak dinner that evening but that they could go another time. And on August 20th we made the decision to let him go.

I don't understand why with the knowledge that I have about life after this life and how I will make sure that he has the opportunities he needs, why thinking of his death still brings so much sadness. I know where he is and have some ideas about what he is doing and hopes for where he is going. But there is still the sadness. I know I will see him again. I told him as he was leaving us that his Mom, Dad, brothers, and many other loved ones were waiting for him on the other side. There would be a joyful reunion. But the sadness lingers.

I missed a lot of closeness and good times with my Dad over the past 30 or so years, things that my sisters and their families had that my family and I missed out on. I'm hoping that with his new-found knowledge that he realizes it, too. My Patriarchal Blessing says that I will be a savior unto my ancestors. I'll do what I can. The rest is up to them.

San Diego

It's August already, and summer is two-thirds gone. All my summer excitement occurred in the first third of the season, so it seems like it's been forever ago.

I got to spend 6 weeks with my dear son and his wonderful little family, and the time sped by so quickly that it almost seems now like it never happened. So many days filled with every-day life with Isabelle and Nikki and then little Emmeline. Waking early in the morning, breakfasts with Sponge Bob and Dora, reading an endless supply of kiddie books again and again. Pick out some clothes to wear, changing diapers, fixing bottles of milk, nap times and snack times. Pick up the toys again, play chase and rock on the horse, and take pictures, pictures, and more pictures. Kissing the baby, playing with chalk, and going to the pool. Costco and Ikea for hot dogs and waiting for Daddy to come home. Noodles and Patrick starfish, fixing hair, and watching Isabelle make popcorn all by herself. Tickles and giggles, lots of hugs, nighttime prayers, and after a while "I love you too, Gawmaw".

Memories of heaven, and what wouldn't I give to have them closer.