Sunday, May 10, 2015

Letters to Mom

May 24, 2014
Mom,
You got geraniums for my birthday. And now I get mums for you, during Memorial weekend. I still like mums and geraniums, but I like daisies too; they are simple. I like daffodils too. After a gray winter, it is nice to see some sunshine, especially in a flower. It is so refreshing. I like the tulips on campus, especially when the sun shines on them. The tulips open up & it is so wild beautiful. And iris remind me of you because they graced the yard. And now that you are gone, seeing an iris is bittersweet, but comforting.
Take care of Dad. I wish I could leave flowers for him, but he is so far away. I miss you both, but I'm glad that I can still feel your love for me & the rest of the family - in-laws and all.

Susan
(This edited version of what I wrote last year)


May 10, 2015

Mom,
It is Mother’s Day and I miss you. I wish I could get you a gift card to JB’s, but I saw on Facebook that a bulldozer ran over it. And chocolate would be nice. I never knew you like chocolate until the funeral. It’s no wonder I have addiction to it; I inherited it from you.
Thanks for being here for me these past few months. I know it hasn’t been easy for you because I’ve gone through a few similar experiences that you might have had. When I had the first procedure in January, I saw you in a memory. For a moment I was 12 again in the recovery room at Holy Cross Hospital.  You had that same concern on your face as you did then. Even though you looked worried, it was comforting that you there, watching over me; even though Jewel was there.
I can understand if you left during the procedure I had in February. It was hard for Laura when the hospital people tried to stick a feeding tube down your throat. Jewel was there to comfort me and Jay even managed to pay me a visit during my hospital stay.
I’m not done with trials yet; it is going to be a hard year. I’m missing my potatoes and that is hard for a Idaho native, but I get through this too. I can’t wait for 2016 to get here and 2015 isn’t even half over. I know you are watching over me. And Dad too. Love doesn’t go away just because someone dies. Love is forever; love is eternal.
I miss you and I love you.


Susan

(In case anyone is wondering, I did not have a feeding tube down my throat like my mom.)

Saturday, May 9, 2015

A Bittersweet Holiday

Mother's Day has usually been a bittersweet day for me. Not so much when I was in my twenties when I attended various singles ward. I've never married or had children, but I have been a part of children's lives. I have nephews and nieces, some have been adopted by the heart. Usually going to church on Mother's Day hasn't been too bad. I haven't always taken the customary flower or treat. I once passed up some chocolate because a member of the bishopric said there were treats for all the mothers just outside the chapel doors. I think that the bishop's counselor meant well and he was probably thinking "all women" when he said "all mothers". I wasn't the only woman that day who skipped the chocolate. There were a few mothers who did likewise and not because they were allergic to chocolate or on diets.
Some Mother's Days at church have been touching. My first year in a new Ward, one young girl handed me a geranium as I walked out of Relief Society. She didn't know my status and she didn't care if I was a mom or not. She looked at me as she handed me the flower and that meant a lot to me. And last year, one of young girls I taught in Primary was determined to give me a brownie. Just because I was one of her teachers. Just moments before, I saw her determination when she gave a brownie to her next door neighbor.
After my mom passed a few years ago, celebrating Mother's Day became more bittersweet. There was just no way my mom would enjoy any kind of chocolate. Brownies included. I missed giving Mom a gift. So for the first Mother's Day, I did my usual and gave my sisters, biological and heart adopted,  a Mother's Day booklet. It was a tradition I started after I left the single wards. My first year was okay, but the next year I found myself in Primary. As usual, the children were singing a few songs in Sacrament Meeting. One of the songs that was chosen was "Mother, Tell Me A Story" by Janice Kapp Perry. When the children sang "tell me of heaven", I would cry inside. I wished my mom could tell me about heaven. And when we practiced the song this year, I could feel my mom singing the second verse, even though my mouth was singing those words. Like last year, I won't be joining the other Primary teachers on the stand this year. It's still too emotional, but the song is beautiful, so I find myself listening to it on YouTube. "Mother, Tell Me A Story" is a bittersweet comforting lullaby to me. I am reminded of the love that my mom has for me and that through all my trials that I have had since she has left, my mom has been there for me. She watches over me each night as I sleep. 

Sunday, April 5, 2015

My thoughts on Easter 2015

When I was in 3rd grade, my younger sister got very fussy one Sunday afternoon.  Even at six months, this was unusual behavior for her. She was usually a peaceful calm baby. Later that night, I came out of my room and the home teachers were giving her a priesthood blessing. The next day or the day after, Laura was admitted to the hospital. She was diagnosed with spinal meningitis. Death, deafness and retardation were the promised outcomes, if a complete recovery wasn't possible. Laura was (and still is) a fighter and she received a clean bill of health. She graduated with honors from Minidoka County High School and Brigham Young University, where she majored in Math. Because of this illness as an infant, my mom was doubtful that Laura could have children. Well, she gave birth and raised four sons to maturity and is expecting her 3rd grandchild this spring.  The miracle still continues today as Laura continues to take care of those she loves and cares for deeply.
I started off the year with a surgical procedure. After the procedure, I felt clean again. The problem that had been plaguing me for some years was gone. It was relief and I was grateful. I have had some other procedures and surgery and each time, I feel there is more hope for better health and an end to problems that have bother my body for the last few years. 
It is difficult dealing with illness and weakness (and sin). I have learned to hope and keep the faith. And this is possible because of our Savior, Jesus Christ, who suffered in Gethsemane and died on the cross for us. Our Savior had compassion for us, which is why He performed miracles as He healed the sick and the afflicted. Because of this, we can become whole again, our bodies and souls can become clean again.  And no matter how many times we mess up, we can repent and be forgiven. We all struggle daily. Stress doesn't stop the blessings from coming. Easter isn't just for the dead, but the living also. When Christ was resurrected, there was hope for all the human race. The Atonement brings a hope of being able to repent, to make our lives new again. When resurrection happens, the old will be cast off and a newness will come.  It is all possible because Jesus Christ loves and cares for us deeply. We all as humans have a second chance. Our Savior, Jesus Christ suffered and died for us and because of Him, eternal life is possible.




Sunday, March 29, 2015

To Sister Pugh on Easter Sunday


April 20, 2014


Sister Pugh,
I woke up this morning thinking about Easter. Probably because it is Easter and I was giving the lesson in Primary. I posted this on Facebook "As I was resting this morning, I thought of my dad, who must delighted with a full head of hair. I only knew him as bald. And then I thought of my mom, kicking up her high heels because she no longer has to move around in an achy breaky body. Thanks to Jesus Christ, we have the hope of eternal life. Happy Easter!" I did think of my dad's recovering from his hearing loss, but I didn't post that, because I have done that before. (My dad got his hearing back when he died.) But I did comment later about my own hearing loss. When I was four, I had an earache that wasn't attended to. (My parents were poor and we didn't have insurance.) When I think of the resurrection for me, I imagine I will be listening to a symphony of beautiful noises, picking out sounds I have forgotten.
I also thought today of what I wrote on Facebook when my mom passed. "My Mom is well. She is with my Dad once again and having a joyful reunion with her sister, Verla and her parents. She has even met my Grandpa Jackson for the first time. I will miss my Mom, but I have the faith that she is where she needs to be with her family that she hasn't seen for so long. Mom, like my Dad will continue to watch over me. Thank you all for your support and prayers during this ordeal. It has meant a lot. Prayers were answered and will continue to be answered."I actually wrote that Labor Day weekend before she passed. My mom had a rough night that Saturday and I think I knew then that she would not be long with us. When I read that post just now, I got tears again. But I know because of our Savior did, I will see my mom again. She loves me and I am sure that she is like my dad, watching over her children.

Susan

Sunday, March 1, 2015

Praying & Fasting for Rain

Today my ward had a special fast for the drought conditions in the western half of United States;not just Utah, which is one of the drier states in the union.  It snowed on Thursday, the first since the end of December. I hoped that wouldn't stop people from fasting and praying for increased moisture. And then as I pulled into the church parking lot, I realized I would be happy for few good rain storms this spring, because it probably mean snow in the mountains.
I like that the bishop included other states and not just Utah. We all need the moisture, whether we live in a dry state like Arizona or Utah or whether our livelihood depends on water, like farming or the ski industry. We need water to survive; our very existence depends on it. We as humans, not only consume water, but we wash with it and we recreate and create with it. And water also nourishes our souls.
Years ago I was vacationing with some of my family on the Oregon coast and the Seattle area. Before my brother and I left for Seattle, Utah was experiencing hot dry weather. There were wildfires in the Uinta’s and other parts of the state. We both enjoyed the cooler weather in Oregon and the rain in Seattle. Some people in my sister’s ward complained about the rain, but I was glad to experience it, because I knew when I returned to Utah that I would knew my soul would be thirsty again. The rain quenched the thirst my soul had already experienced.
And I so I am glad that my ward had a special fast for drought conditions in the Western United States. There is hope and I have seen evidence of prayers being fulfilled. A few weeks ago, it snowed in Colorado. It wasn't much, but I am grateful that it was something. Southern Utah got snow last weekend. (The St. George area is one of the hottest spot in the state.) And I will keep the faith that more moisture will come in the months ahead, not just for Utah, but the other states who are suffering from the drought.

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

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.

Friday, February 13, 2015

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 7th or 8th 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.

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

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

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

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 4th 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.