Tag: goals

I’m typing this report from Newport Beach California where we’ve been for the weekend.  Yesterday the memorial service was held for my remarkable grandpa who passed away a week ago today.  It’s been what many funerals are:  emotional ups and downs, memories shared, laughter, cousins playing together, relatives reconnecting and catching up on life’s experiences.

Naturally, we wouldn’t want to keep things too simple or run-of-the-mill, so on the first night we were here our youngest threw up all night long, with our 6th joining the party at 4 am.  What does it say when you’ve exhausted the towel supply from two hotel rooms and are down at the front desk at 4 am asking for 10 clean towels to be delivered to your room?  Number 6 was over it as quickly as it hit him, but our baby has been sick for 48 hours, only beginning to hold down even sips of fluids tonight… just in time for #5 to get sick.  After several days of not sleeping well, we were counting on a good night’s rest tonight before tomorrow’s drive back.  It looks like we’re in for an adventure.

I’ve been thinking about how sometimes when you try to do the right thing the Lord seems to whisk away the obstacles and provide a clear path to your destination.  Other times it feels like he litters the way with big rocks, then helps you limp over them.  Much as I wish and hope and occasionally pray for the clear path, our current stage in life seems to be way of the rocks.  I guess God really isn’t interested in us being comfortable right now.  I suppose he’s trying to strengthen our backs.

My Mom has always said something I believe to be wise.  Life provides a lot of choices, many of which are difficult.  But if you always err on the side of choosing people and not things, chances are that things will work out and you won’t regret your choices.  We’ve tried to choose people this week.  A lot of “things” have been disappointing, but the feeling of gathering with relatives to celebrate the life of a wonderful man (even if your baby throws up in the middle of the funeral) is great payment for all the headaches it took to get here.

And so tonight I close with a heart that is grateful for people who’ve touched my life in powerful and good ways.  I am grateful to have known my Grandpa, grateful to have been here this weekend with my extended family, so grateful  to belong to an awesome family.

Now we just need to get home and get back to work.

Jennifer

My heart is bursting with feeling today; a summary of this week’s progress is difficult to assemble.

On Friday my oldest turned fourteen.
On Friday my children finished school for the summer.

Today my Grandpa died.
I’m so glad we spent last weekend with him!
And today, only minutes after that passing, my 14 year old son was ordained to the office of Teacher in the Aaronic Priestood.
I’ve cried a lot, pondered, felt my heart burst with pride.  I’ve felt relief, sadness, joy.  And sunburned.  I spent a lot of hours in the yard this week without sunscreen on my arms.  Brilliant.

What is there to say?  We finished another school year, and we tried to finish strong.  There are still a few things I wish I’d done, but we certainly had some victories.  Overall, I’d say our finish was better this year than last, which means we’re growing.

My summer plan isn’t fully developed yet but I’ve spent time prioritizing and praying.  I feel the weight of knowing I have my children to myself for only a few months of the year, and it needs to be time well spent.  Finding that balance between work and fun is tricky with the many different ages we have but I’ll give it my best effort.  There are a number of habits I’m anxious to work on with the children in coming weeks.

Tonight, I really just have two thoughts.  I’m so proud of my son.

And I miss my Grandpa.  So much.

Jennifer

For the first time in almost 18 months my Sunday evening post is late.

It was a crazy week with feelings of relief and urgency mingling in every area of life.  Some things wound down; others revved up.  So many things crossed off the list; so many things yet to finish.  The end of a school year is always like this.

There were a few moments here and there which were wonderful.  I cooked artichokes to go with our dinner on Thursday night and it turned out to be a wise decision.  We were all frazzled and tired, but because artichokes take a lot of time to eat, we lingered at the dinner table, discussing far more than we’ve had time for in recent months.   I sat back and observed as big kids taught little kids how to eat artichokes.  It was a magical moment, a deep breath in the midst of craziness and I savored it.

Friday night we drove to Denver for Memorial Day weekend.    I lay in bed Saturday morning listening as all the children woke up in the same room in their grandparents’ basement.  Their conversation together in the early morning light made me laugh and filled me with joy.  So much of our time spent together is rushed and another great percentage of it is spent refereeing some disagreement.  This was precious.  It was unrushed, uncomplicated, unguarded.  To hear them simply be together, to hear the sleepy (and hilarious) comments from some of them made me bury my face in my pillow and laugh out loud.

We spent the weekend with my parents who are caring for my 90 year old grandpa (written about here ), who had a serious stroke in April.   I’ll never forget some of the precious moments we had.  It was a special trip, one I’ll always be glad we took.

And so we’re back in Utah, back in the swing of the last week of school, with some things off our backs and others bearing down on us with great intensity.   We had a family home evening lesson two weeks ago on finishing strong, working hard right up until the very end so we can look back with pride in our efforts and performance.  I’m trying to set a good example for my kids and keep at it cheerfully, even when at 10:30 p.m. someone informs me of a last minute project due tomorrow.

Just a few more days and we’re done, jumping head first into summer life, which has its own brand of busy.

Life is good.

Jennifer