Reflection

I know I'm not the only one who's been reflective today. My DVR is inundated with documentaries filled with sobering images and heroic stories that have pulled at my heartstrings and tugged at my memories from 10 years ago.

I am one who loves to reminisce and reflect on where I've been and the journey that has molded me. Today's anniversary prodded me to dig out some pictures from that time, one of which was this one. You'll notice the date was exactly 2 days before the events of 9/11....



This picture caught me off guard a bit. How could it be that a memory could feel like a million years ago and just yesterday all at the same time? I was visiting my cousin whose wife had just had a beautiful baby boy.

I was a single 23-year-old working and going to school. My life epitomized freedom and was filled with nothing but happiness and hope for a bright future! When I look in my eyes in that picture, I simultaneously envy and pity the person I was then -- so naive and so much to learn....

As I drove to work that fateful morning, I listened to the radio as I always did. They talked about how a plane had flown into one of the towers. I was particularly awe-struck by that because I had just vacationed in New York a few months prior and knew how massive and central they were. I was also dating a pilot at the time and knew to some degree all the rules and regulations that should have prevented something like this from happening. I could hardly pick my jaw up as I listened.



When they said a 2nd plane had flown into the other tower, and as it became more and more apparent that this was an obvious and intentional attack, my heart sank. I couldn't imagine the vast buildings being struck, not to mention the lives that had been and would be taken because of these acts. I so vividly remember being at the bottom and in between the two towers. They seemed massive and impenetrable. Yet the unthinkable had happened.



Before I knew it, I realized that as I listened and drove, I had driven right past my exit to get to work.... FOUR exits past it, as a matter of fact. I re-routed myself and headed to work -- again.

My co-workers and I gathered around a small TV in the break room and watched as news of other attacks were reported. All I remember thinking was, 'What are they going to do next?' I thought we were in a state of unending attacks and war. I remember so vividly a feeling of FEAR and I just wanted to be with the people I loved. Yet when our president encouraged us to turn to God, and it seemed that the nation as a whole DID turn to God, that fear slowly melted away.

Over the past few weeks, as I've watched documentaries about the harrowing events of that day, I've noticed a theme. People are stronger than they think and people overcome. In the face of adversity, the overriding spirit within most of us is courage and an indominable will to survive and help others survive as well.

Today's reflection has awakened that spirit in me to survive and thrive, to help others more, to overcome, and to have a greater appreciation for my loved ones and my freedoms. Although the events of that day were tragic indeed, the lessons learned are invaluable and I'm grateful.

A Mother's Love Never Dies

I was recently able to witness one of the most sweet expressions of motherly love ~ and how that love surpasses even the grave. This story is so sweet and sacred, yet also too touching to keep to myself. So here we go.

My mom was born the baby of three children to Dora and Elvin Hansen. My mom was an unexpected surprise, as her two older siblings were in their teens when my mom came along. My grandmother had a difficult delivery and was left with a debilitating heart condition afterward. My mom only remembers her mother being bed-ridden. My grandmother knew she would not live long with this condition, but cherished the time she had with her baby Bonnie....


Put yourself in my grandmother's shoes. Imagine being bed-ridden and having a terminal condition, with a tiny daughter you know will live most of her life without you. What would you do? You would want her to remember you and the love you shared. You would want her to think of you every day. That's what she wanted, so she made tea towels for each day of the week. My mom remembers watching her mom do embroidery and needle point in bed....









Your heart would ache as you thought of your daughter's wedding you wouldn't be able to attend. But you would want her to have a gift from you that day, something to help her feel your love as she begins her new life.....


I think it's pretty safe to say that every mom wants her daughter to have lovely things, and my grandma was no exception. So she made nice table cloths, napkins, and pillow cases. That was something she could do to ensure her baby girl had a beautiful life....







Maybe, just maybe, she had a mother's intuition of the walk we'd take through the tulips....



She then hand-wrote my mom's name and pinned it on all the items she wanted to ensure would be given to my mom....



My grandma passed away in 1958, when my mom was 13-years-old, leaving a giant hole in my mom's heart and unfinished edges on many of her projects....


Unfortunately, all these lovely items that were made for my mom to enjoy through the years were not given to her as her mom expected them to be. They were stored away in a box that was transferred between her step-mom's basements through the years. I've been told my mom's step-mom was the quintessential "evil step mother". Because I never met her, I can't say for sure, but I do trust the people who have told me some horrific stories.

Then. Just two weeks ago. There was a community yard sale to raise funds for a little girl in our community who is battling leukemia. My cousin was there, helping as people dropped off goods to sort, price and display them. She was about to leave, but decided to help one last car that stopped by. She helped one woman unload her car with boxes that had been stored in her grandmother's basement for years. Suddenly my cousin recognized the woman as my mom's step-mother's granddaughter. Are you following? It's complicated, but stay with me because this is amazing stuff. So she recognized the person, then poured through the items and found this one box of heirlooms.

"Bonnie" was still pinned on each of the treasures!

My cousin immediately packed up the box and brought it to my mom's house! My mom had left for the weekend to go to the cabin and since we live next door, my cousin brought the box to Oby. When I got home from work that night, we dug in and inspected each piece thoroughly. I couldn't get over the detail. My heart ached for my grandma and the gamete of emotions she must have felt while making the pieces. My heart ached for my mom who had lived 53 years without her mom and without these beautiful gifts that were meant for her. But more than anything, my heart rejoiced. I kept thinking of the many miracles that brought these gifts to their rightful owner.... Had the community not gotten together to have a yard sale to help this little girl, had my cousin not gone to help at the yard sale, had she left one moment earlier, had the woman not decided to donate her grandmother's storage items...... who knows if the yard sale would have even gotten $1 for each of the sets! Yet they are SO priceless to my mom! The pieces were created because of countless hours of my grandmother's handiwork.....


I also believe the many miracles that brought those pieces back to my mom after SO many years were also part of my grandmother's handiwork from beyond the grave. This story has affirmed my faith that love never dies, that angels play monumental roles in our lives, and that a mother's love has more eternal influence than any other power on earth.



Oby and I took these cherished items out of the dirty, old peach box where they had been stored for so many years, then we transferred them to gift bags. We were able to deliver them to my mom the next morning at the cabin. It was such an emotional joy to watch her face as she slowly realized exactly what she was holding. Her hand glided over each stitch, her eyes stared in shock at the hand-written names lovingly pinned on top of each set..... I think she might still be in shock today that she finally has these beautiful gifts from her mom. Yet through her tears, what did she say?

"Who do I owe? I need to pay someone for this. I need to give money to the yard sale."

Oh, Mom. I will never be anywhere near as selfless a person as you are. I love you for that.

I want to publicly thank my cousin for being in the right place at the right time. I think this is another testament to the fact that blessings pour from heaven when we choose to serve others. This was truly one of the most beautiful experiences of my life, to get to see my tender-hearted mom get such a sacred gift. I'm not sure my words could ever do justice to this experience or to the depth of my gratitude, so I will just have to leave it at that.

Gnome Nonsense

I had a fun kick-off to my weekend.

A night out with my pal Amy.
We were once roommates and had some
incredibly good times!

Amy and I at a soccer game 5-6 years ago? Funny that I have like 9 chins, even though I was in probably the best shape of my life back then. Hmph!

Amy is amazing.... as good as they come.
She wouldn't let me take a picture of us tonight.
Even though we looked FAB in our 3d glasses!
She said she thought I would post it on my blog
And try to get people to set her up on some blind dates.
Me? I wouldn't do that!
However, if my readers took it upon themselves
To see and read about my adorable and wonderful friend
And think of a handsome and wonderful gentleman they know
Who happens to also be single
And live in the Salt Lake area
And wanted to set up my friend with said gentleman,
Well that would just be completely
out of my control.
I would never, ever try to force something like that.
Or even insinuate it.
Not even suggest it.
Not me, nope.

p.s. Amy is 5'4". She is a creative extraordinaire and marketing executive for Deseret Book (aka talented and successful). She also coaches gymnastics, as she was once an NCAA champion, receiving perfect 10's left and right -- AMAZING. She is one of the only people I actually know in real life who gets 10+ pages to pull up if you google their name.... What I'm trying to say is that she's kind of a big deal. She's the Young Women's President in her ward. Without question, she gives the most insightful and inspiring talks that I've ever heard, which is why she's frequently asked to guest speak for different functions. She loves water-skiing and hiking and dogs and dark chocolate. She is one of the funniest and quick-witted people I know. She owns the cutest little home in Sugarhouse, but she's in the process of selling it to get a nicer one -- I guess that's what people do when they're 'kind of a big deal.'

What? Does that sound like someone's profile on match.com? Hmmmm I hadn't really thought about it, nor was I suggesting anything.

Oh yes, so back to tonight.

We went to see Gnomeo and Juliet.
We ran into some old friends right before the movie.
When we told them what we were going to see,
They looked at us like we were crazy.
We're not little kids, after all.
So why the cartoon flick about gnomes?


It made more sense when we explained the back-story,
our inside joke about a gnome.
Even though I've blogged about our gnome before,
I'm going to share it again, in case you're new around here.

p.s. The movie was super duper cute! Loved it!!!

Whether cultural myth or not, the story goes like this....

An Australian gnome-owner was distressed when she discovered her gnome had been stolen one weekend in the 80's. A note was found in its place: "Dear mum, couldn't stand the solitude any longer. Gone off to see the world. Don't be worried, I'll be back soon. Love Bilbo xxx."

Later on, she would receive pictures of Bilbo the gnome in exciting parts of the world, such as this one where he is in front of Big Ben in London.

Fast forward 20 years or so, and you'll find me, before I had found my sweetheart. I had just moved into a home with roommates in Salt Lake City. I had the basement to myself, but some decorating had already been done. Everything looked fine, and I even liked how the place looked, but there was one thing that was bugging me - a gnome. Little did I know that one of my roommates had found him at a consignment store, considered him a treasure, and placed him by the fireplace as a focal point to the room. I thought I could just stick him in a closet, and no one would miss him.

I was wrong! But thankfully, my roommate (Amy) didn't take offense or begin a roommate spat. She simply decided to give her gnome a more exciting life than that of simply standing by the fireplace, or worse, being shoved into a dark closet by someone who didn't appreciate his vintage flair. And so began the adventures of Gerome the traveling gnome. Not quite as exciting as the life Bilbo led, but noteworthy nonetheles....

It all started when I got home late one night from an evening out with friends. I stood at my closet, hanging up my clothes, anxious to crawl into my bed, when I felt eyes peering up at me. I looked down to see this:

I giggled to myself, and the next morning Amy found Gerome in the bathroom with her toothbrush:

He didn't travel the world, but went all around our little house, usually mimicking either Amy or myself in some way. He became an honorary roommate, as we would find him at random times in randome spots throughout the house....

playing the piano

getting dolled up

Taking a warm bath

eating breakfast

Speeding off to work

waiting for a kiss under the mistletoe

getting coal for Christmas

playing cards

curled up reading a book

eating dark chocolate and peanut butter in front of the heating vent

Well, life changed very quickly. I met my husband, got married, moved out of the house. Amy and I still met for lunch now and then, but I thought the exciting days of finding Gerome in random places were over. Again, I was wrong! Last fall, I walked out my front door to go to work, and found this:

Gerome in a wicker basket with a note, 'please take care of my baby.

Trick or treaters were not alone on Amy's doorstep Halloween night last year. Gerome was also there:

dressed as a ghost, not a member of the KKK

Update on Gerome the Gnome. Amy's nephew borrowed him for some sort of Junior High English project. I think you know where this is going.... It involves a locker.

Needless to say,
Gerome is now RIP
(resting in pieces).

Although Gerome can never be replaced, life does go on. Shhhh, don't tell Amy, but I found a fantastic little gnome at a vintage boutique a few months ago, and so the tradition will love on!!! Where will we spot Gerome next? Only time will tell.

First Love

I fell in love for the first time at an early age.
With the piano.
I started lessons at age 4
because my mom couldn't get me to stop begging.
Even though I don't have a piano in my home now,
I plan to one day.
A baby grand to be precise.
Please don't mistake my love of the piano to indicate that I'm any sort of grand pianist.
I most certainly am not.
But I can play most songs that I want to play.
I enjoy it oh so much and always will.
Because true love lasts forever.


Even though life is busy,
when one of the new friends I've made at work
asked/begged me to give piano lessons to her daughter,
well I had to say yes.
Actually, initially I said no.
Then my friend told me,
"Audrey loooves the piano.
She begs to play. She begs for lessons."
A girl after my own heart..
So ~ that was that.
Audrey wanted me to be her teacher.
I guess her previous piano teacher was boring
and Audrey doesn't think I'm boring.
(She's right, by the way.
I'm pretty much a non-stop good time. haha)
Audrey is so cute, such a little smarty pants.
She already knows the basics and
was thrilled to show off her skills with a little
Ode to Joy!
She even knows quite a bit of history about
pianos and famous composers.
She even knew what Allegra meant!
Two girls + one first love =
the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

The Upside of Being on the Underside

Is it just me, or did the weekend go by TOO FAST?!?!?

Oby and I started the weekend by going to see 127 Hours, one of the best films I've seen in a long time. I'm sure most of you know, but it's about the guy, Aron Ralston, whose arm was pinned by a rock in a slot canyon in 2003. He amputated his own arm with a simple tool and survived. Pretty amazing stuff.


I haven't been able to stop thinking about Aron Ralston and his dilemma ever since I saw the movie. Even though I knew the story well and knew how it would end, it surprised me what an impact watching the movie had on me. I thought about adversity in general and the tools we are given..... do we really use those tools to get through adversity, or do we let the adversity define us? And then I considered how it was the belief Aron had in his future (his son who was not yet born) that really motivated him to make the decisions and have the strength to get out of his situation. It got me thinking... Do I have that kind of faith in my future? Do I trust in my own "happy ending" enough to get through the tough moments, tough days? I couldn't help pondering these things after watching the movie and it made me want to dig a little deeper and live a little better. It touched me a lot.

Saturday I was invited to go to lunch with this amazing group of women. (Sorry for the poor picture quality!)

Eleah, Chrystal, Danielle, April, Me

I can't even begin to explain what a special group of women this is. I already know and love Chrystal and April, but I was grateful to meet Danielle and Eleah and to hear their amazing stories. We all have a special bond of love and gratitude for our special needs children. It was so touching for me to gain wisdom and strength from new friends. I could go on and on, but I'm not sure that they would want me to share much of their inspiring stories on my public blog, so I'll leave it at that.

On my way home from my lunch date, I was able to stop by my friend Molly's house and meet her new precious bundle, Miss Sylvie Gabriella.

*sigh* Can you just smell her baby skin? I could have snuggled her for days.

Molly still lives in the house where we were roommates. Well, officially she was my landlord I guess, but you get the idea. Molly asked if it was weird being in the house where I used to live, if it felt different or brought back memories. I replied no because I was just so caught up in snuggling Sylvie -- that was all I could take in at the moment, I guess.

But as I drove away, I started remembering all the years I spent in that home. The indescribable joys, the unbelievable heartaches, the laughter, the tears, successes, failures, good times and devastating blows.... You know how your 20's are, finding and defining yourself. For me, much of that was done in that house with Molly by my side.



And as I was driving home, I relived so much of what I experienced during that time. The faces, the feelings, the confusion and realizations.... they all came flooding to my memory like it had happened only yesterday. I had to laugh and smile in hindsight. To look back and see how every little experience built upon the other to lead me to who and where I am today. Not that who and where I am today is perfect, but it's lovely and I wouldn't want to trade it for the world. I wouldn't have wished many of my life experiences on myself. So thank goodness I'm not the one in charge because where would I be if I hadn't had those experiences? As I flashed back to this other time, it felt as though dots were connected, in a sense, and I was able to see the bigger picture. It was a moment of clarity of how much I truly need to trust in God's plan and allow my heart to trust that all of life's experiences will work together for my eternal gain. We have such limited perspective, you know? There needs to be much more trust in the divine.

My life is but a weaving between my God and me,
I do not choose the colors, He worketh steadily.
Oftimes He weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride,
Forget He sees the upper, and I the underside.

Not till the loom is silent, and shuttles cease to fly,
Will God unroll the canvas and explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful in the skillful Weaver's hand
As the threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.

When I got home from this enlightening day with friends, I got to spend time with these two. My loves. I was so grateful for all the experiences I've had that led me to this special time with this little family of mine. I adore them. I love this life.

Chloe loves to squeal in public and gets louder and higher pitched the more you try to shush her. Oby is irreverent and full of surprises. They make me laugh and they make me happy. I may not choose all of our current circumstances and sometimes get discouraged because I want things to be different. Well, shame on me. One day, I know I will look back at this time and be grateful for every smile AND every tear.

“No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude and humility. All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God . . . and it is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we come here to acquire and which will make us more like our Father and Mother in heaven. . . .” (Orson F. Whitney as cited in Spencer W. Kimball, Faith Proceeds the Miracle, [1972], 99).