Beneath the Wraps

It will be a while before my next post – as I have TONS of photos and scrapbooking to go through.  I just simply don’t have the room for storing them – at least not the hard bound books (and there are many) but do have room on some drives to insert in the computer. Blessed are they who can discard without sentimental attachment – for they don’t have to dejunk later on.  Their lives are made easier because they don’t save every little item.  They don’t have decades of clutter. As Corey had mentioned in a previous post     Ellen and Nate have decided to throw out a bunch of mom’s junk.   And granted, it does look nicer than I think it has ever looked – and seems inviting.   But at the exact same time, it’s not           I haven’t lived in mom’s house for over 11 years  but had always felt at home there.  I paid for the microwave that is in the kitchen.  I paid for the over-the-to...

Matthew 20:1-16 gives us the parable of the laborers in the vineyard.  I had always looked at the parable as one about missionary work – about the hereafter, about those who spend their whole lives in the Church striving to do what is right and having someone who has put other’s through hell repent at the last hour.                      I have labored so many hours in the hot burning sun – and God is telling me that if Maleficent should choose to repent, that her reward will be the same as my own.  That she is entitled to all the same blessings as my own.  I’ll admit that I haven’t accepted this interpretation very graciously.  But then who am I to think of myself as better if she truly surrendered herself and did/does repent and actual develop a "compassion" if you will?            Slaving in the vineyard...

          The church was across the street from our first house.  The members used to do a Halloween party every year.  There would be a dinner, costumes and activities.           People would gather in the multipurpose room to begin with.  And there were 4-6 rooms off to the side where the children could go and participate in various crafts, games and stories.            One Halloween my family was asked to host a room.  We found one that did not have windows.  We set up a large cardboard box in the middle of the room.  Roland and the boys worked from inside the box.            On the outside we had painted pictures of tombstones, skeletons, ghosts and maybe leaned toward the scary icons of Halloween and not the cute pumpkins and such.   ...

          Mom is at the point – and actually has been for some time – where she needs 24/7 care.  Oh, there are some days where she actually seems like her old self – someone we could leave alone and believe she’ll be fine for the two hours that she will be by herself.  It’s always another “ personality ” that gets her lost.           So we have taken upon ourselves the dreaded task of looking into assisted living – either or in or out of the house.  Corey would prefer in.  I think it may be time for mom to move on so that we can sell the house as that is what will be paying a good part of the expense.  I had looked into one before – when Corey didn’t believe she was ready.  But I think he’s slowly realizing that he can’t undo the situation at hand and must face the possibility that we will have to move mom. Corey and I went to a fabulous retirement home called “Sunris...

Throughout the years I’ve written down a child’s interpretation (most from four year old minds) of what things are. Here are some of them: Four years old, looking for a specific shade Which one is “antler” brown? On mortar: Why are there grey lines on grandma’s house? Popeye looks just like Charlie Brown, but he’s a smoker On Saturday’s warrior video: “It’s a happy sad show.  But some of it is boring.” “Are you sick because you’re building a baby?”     tiger skin snow snakes     Potato Paper Why does the potato have trees First corn dog discovery: “There’s a hot dog inside!” Egg Slobber Adult complains about the small amount of money that may accompany a huge mound of paper work “Well you are lucky.  I do paper work at school all day long and I don’t get paid anything” The cave i...

           I realize it’s been over two months since I last attended the temple.   Sad part about the whole ordeal is that I honestly haven’t missed going.           I have a friend who attends two or three times a week.  She thrives on it – or at least she did when she lived in West Valley.  She has moved downtown Salt Lake and is actually a lot closer to the Salt Lake City Temple – I would think she still goes fairly often – perhaps even moreso.           The first time my mom had gone through the temple, it was a terrible experience for her.  There was a lot that she didn’t understand.  Unbeknownst to her, she had gone on a session with a group who were hearing impaired.  Sign language was used for the benefit of those who were hearing impaired – but my mom didn’t understand that it was done in translation....

          I don’t know that pen palling is really a lost art.  It just seems with the internet and facebook and email and such – the written letters seem to be a thing of the past.           Earlier I created this pos t.    Jenna and her cousin Melody had promised to write one another every day.  And for an entire week Jenna really did – though I did not mail on a daily basis.  I would accumulate and then mail.           I ended up sending two or three pieces of mail.  Jenna was really disappointed that Melody hadn’t written back.  I actually believe that Melody did write – perhaps every day in the beginning – but I don’t believe it was a priority for either mom or dad to address the envelope and put a stamp on it.  Thus they never got mailed.           For...

          Somebody had suggested that someone take a mom for a drive to look at the fall.  Knowing my own vehicle wasn’t going to make it up the canyon (it actually was too sluggish to get near the base) I chose an alternate, perhaps a more scenic route and asked if she would like to visit my 91 year old great-aunt.            Aunt Trudy has ALWAYS been active.  Over the years she has become hard of hearing, but she is still sharp as ever with brand new driver’s license in hand.  She was so excited to see my mom and me (as it has been a while) and we visited just briefly.           “Well, it was so good to see you,” my mom kept on saying – as though we’d be leaving fairly soon.  What was her problem?           Aunt Trudy would ask a question which mom would answer – but in her quiet voice an...