What I Learned During Lent Last Year

April 19, 2014

As I read over the journal I kept for Lent, I realized I learned quite a bit. Some of it was just a repeat, like even though our choices are few we still have choices. It can be hard to forgive ourselves. Staying focused was another lesson learned. But I also learned to look toward the light at the end of tunnel.
When I learned of Lent in high school, I thought it was eating only fish on Friday. One Friday the home-ec teacher fried up some hamburger on a spring day. Two of the girls were Catholic and didn't eat. The teacher apologized. I mistakenly thought that Catholics could only eat fish on Fridays year round. It wasn't until after I had graduated from the U that a co-worker kindly corrected me that it was only during Lent.
I remember once as student at the U that a classmate dropped the f-bomb when he remembered it was Lent. Sometime my classmates told him not give that up. I learned then that during Lent, Catholics gave up something.
Somewhere over the years, I learned that Ash Wednesday started Lent. Probably from my co-worker who taught me about fish on Fridays. But I probably learned first about Ash Wednesday from another co-worker, who attended a Catholic high school in the neighborhood I lived in. Apparently, he and his friends would skip services on Ash Wednesday and walk over to the apartments that I lived in. There was a patch of trees in front of my apartment, where he and his friends would smoke. Before they headed back, they would take the ashes from their cigarettes and make crosses on their foreheads.
As I prepared for Lent, I googled. From my search, I found out that Lent was symbolic of Jesus fasting for 40 days. I learned about Jesus fasting for 40 days in Sunday School and probably Primary. As a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, we usually fast on the first Sunday of each month.  We skip two meals or go without food for 24 hours. It is during those 24 hours that we drawer closer to God. It is what Muslims do when they fast each fall. And it what Catholics and most Protestants religions do each spring. Fasting is a time to draw closer to God and to be more focused by not being distracted by the cars of the world.

Toward the end of my Mormon version of Lent,  (I didn't fast on Ash Wednesday or eat only fish on Fridays.) I thought of sacrifice. Just before Lent, I went to Seattle area to be with my sisters. One day we visited the Brown & Haley's Almond Roca factory store. The cashier told us about the Mountain chocolate bar, which was part of the food rations for soldiers who served in World War II. I was reminded of my dad who served in Alaska during the war. I thought of the sacrifice that my dad made by leaving his widowed mother and his family behind while he served.
I also thought of the sacrifice Jesus made while he fasted for 40 days. Jesus fasted so he could be focused while he prepared for His ministry. It would be hard to fast 40 days. Whether Jesus went entirely without food or water as Mormons do when they fast once a month or as a Muslim would during Ramadan, by eating a meal before sunrise and waiting until sunset to eat the other meal of the day.

But Jesus Christ sacrificed much more when he went into Gethsemane and took upon Himself our sins. He died on the cross for us all and was resurrected on the third day. He suffered, died and was resurrected so we all could have eternal life.

True Love

The helpless infant will later take care of a helpless parent. (01/19/04)

I read this and I get emotional. Because it rings true to me. I am reminded of my youngest sister and my mom.

When my sister, Laura was 6 months, she was infected with Spinal Meningitis. As the morning services at church ended that day, Laura was throwing a fit. That was unusual behavior for her (and still is). She was usually a calm pleasant little baby girl. Shortly after that she was admitted at the Magic Valley Memorial Hospital in Twin Falls fighting for her life. My mom was at her bedside a lot and my older sister, Mary took over the household duties, which had to be hard for her; Mary was only in 7^th or 8^th grade. My mom took care of a helpless infant in her time of greatest need.

Eight years after I wrote down that thought, my mom got cancer. Laura and her family were coming back from Lake Powell one August afternoon. Mom hadn’t been diagnosed with cancer yet, but Laura stayed behind to take care of Mom as her health quickly declined. Her husband, Bill and son, Skylar headed back to Washington. Shortly after Mom was diagnosed, Laura and Mary took Mom back to Seattle, where they could take better care of her. Laura spent most days at the hospital with Mom, with help from Mary and her daughter, Tracina. Just like Mom saw Laura at her worst, Laura saw Mom at her worst. Laura took care of a helpless parent in her time of greatest need.

That is true love.

Fighting the Good Fight

January 18, 2015

Dear Sister Pugh,

I was just thinking about the past few months. It has been hard, but I’m trying to maintain a positive attitude. After all, I really don’t want to enjoy my misery. It is just too depressing and besides, there’s got to be an exit somewhere. Quite a bit, I find myself telling me that things will work out, even though I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I’m hoping for the best, but realizing I should prepare for the worst.

Ten years ago on the 11th, I left Blue Cross for the last time as an employee. It was end of lousy year, but the beginning of a different uncertainty. In the previous months, I had found myself hoping against hope. Maybe I wouldn't lose my job as my bosses had predicted was one of those thought going thru my mind. I never really felt their support in 2004 as I looked at despair in the face. But on that January day as I walked out to the parking lot for the final time, I was relieved to leave that hopelessness behind. Yes, I was facing uncertainty, because I didn't know where or when I would be working again. But like recent events, I told myself that things would work out. Life would return to normal.

So with new trial I’m facing; I find myself relying on hope again. I’m just experiencing a few bumps on my journey thru life right now.  I don’t know what will happen; I don’t when doctor visits will take a vacation or if my relationship with the pharmacy will move down a level or up a level. But I will be okay; I will survive. If I could skip the last few months, I would. But I realize I am growing from this experience. I have experience kindness, gratitude, support and other things I don’t realize I've learned. I doubt I would trade that in for the easy life.

I've got my Sisterhood Support Team to buoy me up. None of us can fight the battle alone and none of us are exempt from trials. Our battles might differ, but God is not going to give us more than each of us can handle. To some, it may seem like my battle is nothing, to others, it may seem like it is hard. I may look at others and think what they are going thru is harder than what I am going thru and some, I think – “really, you are complaining about that?” But I have to realize that to them it is a big deal.

Elsa, I’m going to fine, despite what may come. God has not forsaken me nor will He. Jesus Christ, my elder brother is carrying me thru this storm and that is why I will survive. And that is why, in the past, present and future, you have, are and will be able to endure your trials. Jesus Christ is there for you, for me, for everyone. Like Paul tells Timothy, you have, are and will “fight the good fight”. You have, are and will conquer like me, your mom and those before you have done.

Sister Jackson

The meme before the Proverbs 3:5-6 is difficult to read . It reads: “The miracle is this: that you will rise in the morning and be able to see again the startling beauty of the day.”― William Kent Krueger, Ordinary Grace

Reflecting on 2014

I got a Christmas card that said a wonderful 2014. I pretended that the card meant "hope you had a wonderful 2014". My first thought was that 2014 was an okay year. While it wasn't a fantastic year, it wasn't a bad year like 2004 or 1980. It was just there. 

Although 2014 was just there, I did have experiences that helped me along in my journey through life. Probably one of the first lessons learned came from Sister Pugh of Cleveland Ohio Mission and my Primary class. Shortly after the New Year had started I got called to teach the six-year olds in Primary. When I got the calling, I wrote to Sister Pugh and she wrote back that I would make a great teacher, because as a very young child I had touched her life. My first time teaching after five years was a disaster or so I thought. I was seriously doubting my abilities to teach children and believing what Crystal had wrote. When I complained to her, I was gently read the riot act by Sister Pugh. She kindly reminded me that I did have a gift of relating to children.  Sister Pugh wrote that she as a child was grateful for the influence I had in her life. In time, I realized that the children did indeed love me. Especially one Sunday when one of the children I taught was determined to give me the Mother's Day treat that the bishopric's families were handing out. When I spent the 4^th of July in Florence, Oregon, I got to meet Tracy and Doug's children. One of Doug's sons requested my friendship on Facebook. And Tracy's daughter started following me on Instagram. Sister Pugh was right; I still had my touch with children, even almost teenagers.

In February, I flew to Seattle for the 2nd time. I promised my sisters and myself that I would spend more than a weekend with them. I saw a few sites, some new, some old that I hadn't seen for a few years and some more recent sites. Dana took us shopping at the ProShop and we were able to get tickets for a tour of Century Link Stadium, the home of the Seahawks and the 12th man. We discovered the glass museum in Tacoma. We also found out that all Almond Roca in the world is made in Tacoma. I saw "Frozen" and Laura's grandson for the first time. I visited the Fremont troll again and ate at Dick's, one of Dana's favorite places to eat. I found Crystal’s Rachel (a bronze pig) at the Farmers Market or Pikes Public Market. Laura even took me to the gum wall, but I didn't leave my gum behind; I just gave the wall the stink eye. While I was there, I got a chance to honor my parents. At the glass museum, there was a room of lighted letters in different shape. Since we were there on Dad’s anniversary of his death, I found four letters to spell his name. A few hours before I boarded the plane back to Salt Lake, my sisters, along with some of their family members and I walked around Green Lake. In September, when we walked Light The Night, the walk was canceled, so this was my chance to honor my mom. Mary and Vanessa were able to join us this time to in our walk.

In July, I flew to Seattle for the 3rd time in a year. This time my vacation was a trip within a trip. On the 3rd, I rode with Laura's family to Florence, Oregon where we along with Mary's family spent the 4th of July weekend. I stayed with Mary and her family at beach house while Laura and her family stayed at a campground outside Florence. While at the beach house that first night, I got to cross off an item on my bucket list. Since December 31, 1999, I had desired to see the sun set over the ocean. That night as Tracy and I took pictures of the sun setting, I realized a wish had come true.

 About a month after I came home from vacation, the office started its extreme makeover. First it was the painting. Some of the desks were partially dismantled. Then new carpet was laid and our desks were traded in for tables. Finally at the beginning of October, our new desks arrived. And just as the dust was settling, some of my co-workers decided to play musical jobs, which resulted in some new hires. Still not sure who is doing what, but in time that will all make sense. I think the changes in the office were the start of changes or disruptions in my life.

The Monday after walking Light The Night in Sugarhouse Park, John suffered facial injuries in a bike accident as he was going to work that October morning. I was grateful that no motorized vehicles were involved. Later in the month, when John was scheduled for surgery at another hospital, I took the day off to be with John. His surgery was at the same hospital where I had my ear operation when I was 12. I felt I had faced a fear that returning to the surgical area of the hospital. Since moving back to the Salt Lake Valley several years ago, I've never liked passing that particular hospital. It wasn't that anything bad happened there, it was the reminder that I was a patient there in my youth. 

Jay told me at Thanksgiving that his employer had sold the business and he would soon be looking for work. About that time, I found myself visiting doctors more than I liked. I even dreaded visiting the eye doctor. I decided to look at those events as bumps along the smooth road I journeyed in 2014.

So yeah, it was an okay year. I stretched, I changed, I lived. And I realize I probably would not have done anything different. I am reminded of the cliche that helped me get through 1980 - This too shall pass. Not sure what to expect of 2015. Like 2013, I will be dealing with some aftermath of 2014, so I leave the book opened to experience what will happen.

Wise Men Who Seek

Just as the Wise Men of old, who brought their finest gifts for the baby Jesus; there are those who also seek to give to others during the Christmas season. I sometimes wonder if Santa Claus and other similar characters are version of the Wise Men who came from the East thousands of years ago to visit the baby Jesus.

Each year, I will hear of Sub for Santa projects. Malls have been known to do a Angel Tree, where patrons take a paper ornament off the tree and buy item listed for a child in need. Marines have the Toys for Tots drive, where people will bring in unwrapped toys of their choice. The Holladay Library asks for donations of winter hats, scarves, gloves and mittens to decorate the tree in the lobby. KSL has their Quarters for Christmas fund raiser where they buy shoes for children in need. The food banks across the nation begin their annual food drives in November with donations being either cash or food items. Neighbors seem to be more charitable during the holiday season, maybe because of the opportunities to give. Members of my ward were asked to Share The Gift, by serving others. And some, just naturally are willing to give of their time to help another in need. Sometimes the act of kindness is just being aware of someone in need, whether it is a friend, a neighbor or stranger. Wise Men today still seek Jesus by giving of themselves because they care for others.

The Best Christmases

Yes, there is a Santa Claus, but he doesn't live at the North Pole or wear a red suit. One Christmas Eve when I was six or seven, the furnace in our house quit working. I am sure my mom alerted the furnace people, but being a semi-holiday or a busy day, help did not arrive that day. Mom took all five and half of us children into town; not exactly a good idea on one of the busiest shopping days of the year. My dad was probably at work at the sugar factory in Paul or sleeping because he sometimes worked the graveyard shift. My mom was solo as she kept track of five children from the ages of five to twelve. When we got home, Mom may have fed us a meal, but she did put us to bed early that night, because the house was so cold. I remember waking up later and hearing noises in the kitchen. My older sister told me it was Santa and not to peek. When we woke up the next morning to open our presents, the house was nice and warm. I learned later that it wasn't Santa in a red suit, but it was Santa in worker’s uniform who fixed the furnace late on Christmas Eve.

*******

It wasn't Christmas, but at another time of year when a Secret Santa knocked on our doors. The sun had gone down and we were still up, so it wasn't summer. Most of us, who were still living at home, were in the kitchen when we heard a knock on the door. One of my brothers answered the door and no one was there except a box of groceries. My brother didn't see anyone and I’m not sure if a car or truck went by our place before or after the knock. We were so busy talking with each other, that none of heard any noise before the knock. I can’t remember if we were in dire straits or not, because my parents didn't complain about their circumstances. But a neighbor was kind enough to think of our family and make an effort to ease our burdens. It is just the way the people of Paul, Idaho are – always looking out for each other and following our Savior’s example. I don’t think we ever found out who did this kind deed and I am kind of glad I still don’t know who it was. Someone was kind enough to be a Secret Santa when it wasn't the season to be and that is all that matters.

*******

Every morning my first duty of the day was to open the mail. Mostly it was premium checks, because businesses wanted their employees to be covered if they went to the doctor for anything and everything or needed their drugs. One December morning, I came across a letter addressed to Santa. (There was a man named Santa Claus who had a similar PO Box as Blue Cross.) I read it and for some odd reason was touched by it. The 10 year girl didn't want much, just some clothes and a Barbie. I put the letter aside until Ms. Garcia came back to check on me. I showed her the letter, she laughed and then she showed it to Terri, our boss. Eventually, Peggy got a hold of it and like me she was touched by the letter and showed it to her husband, who was the mail room supervisor. He was inspired to contact the young girl’s family. And it was a good thing, because the girl had siblings. While I don’t remember what the family’s circumstances; it wasn't good. Before I knew it, the whole company was involved. Well, those who worked on Parley’s Way. Just before Christmas a big package was sent to Sacramento California. This Sub for Santa even got mentioned by Rolly and Wells in Salt Lake Tribune. (I don’t know how they found out, but someone ratted on us.) So glad that Peggy got a hold of that letter, because it ended being of one of my better Christmases.

*******

My niece loves her Aunties and her Uncles. And her Mom too. I don’t know how we found out how my niece was a recipient of a Sub for Santa project or who took charges. My sister’s youngest granddaughter was still a baby when we decided to do a Sub for Santa, but we all picked a family member of my niece’s. I picked her oldest daughter because I had a dear friend the same age. My dear friend shopped with me at WalMart and even online to find the perfect outfit and shoes for my niece’s daughter. My younger sister picked the middle daughter, because she babysat her grand niece quite a bit. Someone got my niece’s husband and my brother in California got the baby daughter. I’m not even sure who shopped for my niece. But it was probably the best Christmas my siblings and I had in a long time. Instead of drawing names for each other, we drew the names of my niece’s family. Somehow, it made the Christmas season brighter for us. And hopefully, for our niece too.

My Thanksgiving Post 2014

On the first Sunday of November, the Bishop bore his testimony. He spoke of gratitude as an attitude. It is more than being grateful for things. As I thought about what he said I thought how gratitude is thinking of others in a thoughtful way. The attitude of gratitude is noticing the good or searching for the good in life or our trials. It is also being glad for someone when something good happens, especially when the something good isn't happening for us. But I do believe that counting our blessings helps us to have an attitude of gratitude.

And probably realizing as Lou Gehrig did, we always have something to be grateful for. There is always something good going on in our life. As November continued, I found this to be true in my life also. Life hasn't gone as planed and I've had my share of burps, but I have been greatly bless through out my life. It is during the hard times that I have felt the love of my Savior the most. And have noticed the good shining through the stormy clouds.

Reading Bewteen The Lines

"For those who like to read between the lines; there are no words between the lines."

I don't know what inspired me to write this on my iPad. Maybe it was a acquaintance who took my actions out of context, but it could have been some politician or news commentary. When I started creating memes, this musing was one of the first I did. I decided to save it for upcoming election year, because people have a tendency to read between the lines when it comes to politics. 

What prompted this post involved what I posted on Facebook recently. I had wrote that I faced a fear. And someone assumed that I had a very traumatic and horrific experience. Sorry, but I was offended. And it hurt. Although I faced a fear, it was not that traumatic of an experience. I just a little bit freaked or uncomfortable at the reminders I experienced that day. When this person read between the lines, it did more harm than good, but I realize this person meant well and the actions were unintentional.
Reading between the lines is like leaping before you look. Judgement is being passed before the facts are known or without knowing all the facts. No one pulls onto the road before stopping and looking both ways. Assumptions are made easier when we read between the lines, maybe that is why we sometimes don't stop first and then assess before the words are out.

It is tempting to read between the lines as we try to make sense of something that has us confused, especially if it involves conflict. There were probably quite a few Utahans doing that last December when Judge Shelby ruled against Amendment 3. Why would a judge in Utah do that? Rumor had the man had a partner. He does and it is his wife. Some times in our haste to make sense of something that is confusing, we become impatient in our quest and share on social media the first thing that makes sense. And it isn't always the truth. Maybe to us it is the truth, but to others it might not be.

And I have found that to be the case from time to time. What made sense to me wasn't always the truth. There have been times when I was glad I withheld judgement because I realized what I thought was reading between the lines; what I wanted to say was better left unsaid. 

December 5th

It took more than a week to write the above and then after I published it, I wasn't ready to share it. I experienced some stress right after I published this and because of someone read between the lines, I was hesitant to post my concerns on Facebook. I wanted the prayers, but felt uneasy about posting anything on Facebook for fear that someone would read between the lines again. I did share my concerns with my sisters, all six of them. My sisters and three others formed my support team.

I also felt uneasy about sharing this on Facebook. I know the person who read between the lines meant well and I really did not want to cause this person any more guilt, so I delayed sharing this post,

I realize we all read between the lines. I do. I just hope that we (me included) can forgive ourselves when we do and hopefully pause before air our opinions. That is probably going to be hard in an election year. And yes, every year is an election year. Don't cities elect mayors in odd number years? And then there is always controversy. One does not have to look far to find something controversial to discuss. There is quite a bit of opportunity to read between the lines, so let's be slow in our judgments by listening first and to be willing to give the person the benefit of the doubt. And remember that our first impression may be a little off. Hey, we are all humans; none of us are prefect.

Just a little advice that one of my six sisters posted on Facebook a few years back. Not sure if it is a quote of hers or she got it from someone else, but I think she nailed when she posted this.

Day of the Dead Post 2

"I can't believe Kopper died :( I thought for sure he'd hold out until I got home. At least he feels good now, poor dog. I'm really going to miss that mutt, he made everyone feel loved and loved the cabin more than anyone else, besides Dad. Who is mom going to feed all the leftovers to?"

That is how I found out first about Kopper, from a sister missionary's weekly email. Not on Facebook, although I found out there a few moments later. Then a few days later I remembered that this weekend was Day of the Dead. And I thought why not honor Kopper. Dogs are more than pets in quite a few families and Kopper was no exception.

Kopper came to the Pugh's home shortly after Kip, their dog died. This puppy was copper colored, so it was natural that he was given the name "Kopper". 

Kopper had big paws to fill as Kip was a well beloved pet and family member of my adopted family. I'm convinced that Kip was one of Jared's best childhood friends. But years later, Kopper filled those paws well. As Crystal wrote, he made everyone feel they were loved. Even Jason, who commented after he came home from his mission, "I do not like that dog."

Jason came home to a new family pet, who was still a child and not an adult like Kip had been when Jason left on his mission. Kopper was high maintenance his first year. Not only did he chew on shoes, he enjoyed furniture. He even once chewed on one my sandals that I left unattended. If it wasn't for his guard dog abilities, Kopper probably would have  been put up for sale.

But Kopper grew up. As Crystal said, he loved the cabin. He was free to roam like a dog should. He also grew out. Most of the time when I would eat at the Pughs, Kopper would be at my side begging for food. Sometimes I would give him some of what I was eating. Kopper loved whatever (mostly meat) anyone would give him. Once after I had a procedure, Jewel brought me to her home. She fed me apple slices and some of the best chicken. But because I was so weak from the procedure, I could barely eat the apple slices. But Kopper was there by my side to help me eat most of chicken. He did his good deed for the day and didn't let the food go to waste.

But like my mom, Kopper grew old and slowed down in his old age. He lived a good long life. And like Crystal and Jared, he had a place in everyone's heart that knew him. Kopper has gone to heaven. I imagine he is sharing a few tall tales with Kip. But most of all, he is probably roaming free at the cabin and the neighborhoods he lived in. And he is probably still looking out for those he loved. Kopper touched hearts in his own way. Love ya, Kopper. We shall all meet again, you crazy and lovable dog