From Dad November 1, 2015

November 1, 2015

Re: Letter 48 of 3

Dear Riley:

I think one of the highlights of the week was that we got your mother’s car into the garage. This actually happened yesterday at the end of a very busy day following an extremely crazy week. We still have some organizing to get rid of some accumulation and get everything into a place of its own, but the progress we made feels good. One problem is that we no longer have room for junk bikes since space is at a premium. It’s very likely you will be going bike shopping in a little over a year.

We had a lot of sadness last week starting Monday. A sweet sister HD (H) passed away from complications of heart failure and pneumonia. Her funeral will be this Saturday. Another dear sister (JH) lost her brother the same day. Also, you remember GP? His brother-in–law who married his oldest sister L died quite unexpectedly a week ago last Thursday. He had been in the mountains alone and reportedly injured his arm. On the way down Spanish Fork canyon he pulled part way off the road and parked his vehicle. When the police found him he had passed away apparently from blood loss. He left behind an adoring wife, seven children ages 13 down to 5 months, and many shocked friends and family members. We attended a viewing 50 minutes after it started and stood in line for 1 hour 15 minutes. When we left, the line was still as long as it had been when we arrived. The funeral was the following day and it felt like Stake Conference, filling the chapel and cultural hall. It was a sweet memorial service and even L and the eldest son spoke. They both did an exceptional job, but I can’t imagine the heartache ahead. We feel so badly for them. It just goes to show that you really don’t know when your time may come, so you need to be living as you should at all times.

I got an impression yesterday morning that I needed to go over and visit G and CM. G has actually been on my mind a lot the past week. I had made four loaves of sourdough and was wondering where to take one of the three loaves I was planning on giving away and G came to mind during my morning prayers. I felt there wouldn’t be many more chances to take him bead and it choked me up. C broke down at the door and I made a promise to come by today and give G a blessing. I felt today as I had the opportunity to bless G and C that I was standing on holy ground, that their home was a place in which the Spirit of God dwelt, and that angels frequented on a regular basis. G has lived a good and righteous life and I felt that God was pleased and accepting of his offering. I’m not sure how much time he has left, but the fact that he is still here is nothing short of a miracle. It was last February when he was given two to three weeks by the doctors but has exceeded even the most optimistic prognosis by many months and had a pretty high quality of life. He has spent precious time with family and checked off item after item on his bucket list. How I love that man! He has blessed my life and the life of my family.

The B’s house is up for sale and they’re looking for a place better suited to their health and stamina. Yesterday morning a large group of people met at the B’s home to assist with cleaning up the yard and getting the back deck ready for refinishing. There were probably 30 in all who helped out and made quick work of what otherwise seemed an overwhelming task. I was touched by these members, some of whom deliberately chose the condos so they wouldn’t have to do yard work and there they were working their hearts out. There was a great spirit of love, unity, and consecrated service. I was filled with love for these people who were willing to give up a portion of one of the last beautiful Saturdays when many no doubt had yard work and winterizing of their own to attend to.

One rather funny thing that came about from this service was that somehow a rumor got started that RB had died. This gained a fair degree of momentum before it died. I just found out about it this morning and we had a good laugh about how far it went.

Halloween seemed a little lower key than usual, especially since the weather was so beautiful. This may have been partly because the primary age children had the Trunk or Treat activity on Friday, so the parents didn’t feel so driven to take them out again. Even Josie wasn’t exactly sure she wanted to go out again on Saturday, though that sentiment passed rather quickly. Parker made the most of his holiday by dressing up in five different costumes for school. This caught the attention of the journalists for the school paper, so they’ll be doing a story on him tomorrow. Funny kid! That evening he had a handful of friends over for a Halloween party.

I told you about our rather funny failed air rocket attempt two Saturdays ago, well yesterday we launched an improved prototype. The first launch went perfectly and soared to well over 600 feet and possibly as high as 800 feet. Parachute deployment was as planned and it floated gently back to earth only to land on the very top of the High School field house. I don’t know how they got it, and maybe it’s best that I don’t’ know but Parker and D came back with it 7 minutes later. So we have a sound concept and it’s amazingly simple. However, the second launch didn’t go so well and we had an early deployment around 200 feet. This shredded the parachute which had been taxed by a high speed deployment on the first rocket a week earlier but it still landed otherwise intact. Just a little more tweaking and I think we’ve got it.

Well, we’re catapulting headlong into the holiday months and I can hardly believe you’re approaching your halfway point within three weeks. Don’t get down on yourself because you haven’t accomplished as much as perhaps you expected. I think your mission has already been filled with tender mercies and miracles and that this has merely positioned you for even greater things in the year to come. Stay the course! The gospel is true and its fruits are sweet. There isn’t an institution on earth I believe is capable of improving people’s lives more or bringing greater joy. Work hard, be wise and obedient. Serve, pray for, and love your companion…and wait for greater things ahead.

All my Love,

Dad

From Mom November 1, 2015

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Dear Riley,

It’s Grandpa P’s birthday today and we are having the big family birthday celebration later tonight since Grandma and Grandpa are going out to visit D and then going up to see J in DC this week. C is here visiting Cambry while his family is in their church meetings. Dad’s over blessing Bro. M who will not be with us much longer, then Dad heads back to tithing settlement which began today. The kids are recovering from probably the second most exciting holiday of year. I’m sitting on the couch in a semi-aware state. But I’m still fasting, so it’s hard to gauge if my fatigue is from hunger or exertion. Likely it’s both.

When Halloween is on Saturday we essentially have a two-day holiday. This year I didn’t worry or even work on costumes, go figure. But I went to the parade in my hippie get-up and Josie wore her Kevin from UP costume. She was very disappointed that no one commented on her costume. So she tried on a couple other ones before deciding to wear the pig costume for the trunk or treat that night.

I went back to the school for Aleah’s party. Four other mom’s had already signed up and knew what they wanted to do, so I just decided as the room mother to show up and help where needed. I took along toilet paper for the mummy relay game just in case and it was perfect because one of the crafts was super short so we split the time. It was a fun party and the kids were very well behaved.

Parker made a big Halloween splash at the High School. He changed his costume each period and lunch for a total of five changes. They are going to cover the story in the school paper and asked him to wear all the costumes over Monday morning so they can document it.

Friday night DJ had a lip-synching party. He realized they were going to exceed the fire code allowed number of visitors, so he asked Grandma if he could have it a her house. She graciously took it on, but she went down and watched a movie. There were a lot of people there and five awards decided by two of DJ’s appointed judges. C won classiest (he synched David Archuleta’s Crush) and Cambry won most lyrically en pointe. Dad, who dressed up as a hippie as well, talked me into lip synching Simon and Garfunkel’s Groovy. I haven’t listened to that song in years. Dad was great, I was terrible.

Yesterday everything continued. We are expecting snow this week so we pulled out the garden, helped the ward clean up the B’s yard as they have their house on the market, went back outside to complete the garden. Then Dad and I took a quick, hard ride on the canal. I’ve decided that biking is like repentance for my body, I feel swept clean inside. Then we finished the garage to the point that I can park my car. Dad and J launched the rocket again, this time it worked.

Parker had a party at our house last night. Though he was working in the yard, at the B’s, and in the garage, the house wasn’t ready when they left to launch the rocket, but I was out in the garage. I was so overwhelmed when I came back into the crazy house one hour before. Every room was overrun with holiday festivities and only Elise had done her chores. Cambry and Elise got up and helped pull the house together. C helped too, even running to the store to buy milk for dinner. We’re liking him around here.

Elise had a vocal concert this week. The thing she was most nervous about was that she turned the pages for SC when she accompanied another choir. Oh, how I love my cute kids. It was a good concert, but Elise was disappointed in the performance all together.

OK, I’m fed, and I’m still so tired. I’m sorry. It’s Daylight Savings here. I went to put the pork roast in the crock pot at 11:30 last night and the roast was spoiled so I had to run to the store. I got to bed so late.

Oh, yes, Sis H is wondering if you will be at the transfer meeting to get the stuff I’m sending to you. I figured you would be… I hope you will.

I hope Sister Ding Doi is recovering well and you are making good progress with your ward and investigators. Can’t wait to hear about your week and how you’re doing. I feel the anniversary upon us and the sudden switch to last such and such until you’re home. That feels good. I love the gospel you're sharing, Riley. Keep inviting. Work with your companion. Listen to the whispers of the Spirit. Leave it all in the field.

I love you,
Mom

Since you've been gone... November 2, 2015

...whoopty doo, the Church is true, and we love you.

Aleah chose this one. 

And we had to include both of these; it was just so true to the evening/day/Halloween/DST crash.

A Love Story in Snippets -- The Risk of Being Known

(Sorry this is a little long... but it was a big deal!)

H was uncomprehending when I told her my plans for the weekend. “You’re doing what?! Walking through the night with a man who, for all you know, could be Jack the Ripper. What about this seems OK to you?” She painted pictures of Dave kidnapping me in a van with no one around to see or hear. How would she be able to check on my safety, she would only know there was trouble well past morning the next day. I was unmoved: nothing she said caused me any concern. Looking back, I’m not sure why I felt so secure. I suppose I figured since it was an organized scout activity, it couldn’t be too risky. As is turns out, much was at risk, but not as H imagined.

Dave picked me up late in the afternoon. We stopped first at his family’s house where he was living. Several times in our conversations Dave had mentioned what a nice house he lived in. Having lived in St. Joseph where the heart of Whirlpool executives lived in their little estates, I had a picture in my mind of a “nice” house. Pulling into a solidly middle class culdesac, I had to reconfigure. It was obvious that he was so grateful for what I saw as his very functional home.

I remember lots of people milling around joking and waiting for the final call. Dave’s mom ran around, hair in tight curls close to her head, compiling and arranging things. Dave’s Dad was wearing the funniest outfit, I quietly wondered if it was joke. He was in white knobby polyester pants with wide legs, punctuated with old-looking running shoes and crowned with a worn-thin, large collared button-up shirt. I felt almost outside of myself observing this family who I was quite certain I could never name each member of.

From his house, we drove up to Salt Lake (in a VAN!) to This is the Place Monument. Dave suggested I eat a banana to ward off the chance of leg cramps on the walk as we were leaving the car. I remember just wanting half of the banana, reaching to break off what I wanted, and Dave shoving ⅔ of the banana in my mouth and walking away laughing. For the first time I felt a little anxiety. Would he not respect my boundaries? Was I in danger? I decided this was just a joke and I would be safe, though I was a little concerned at his humor.

After some small bit of ceremony, we were let loose to walk the sidewalk along Highway 89 until sometime in the morning when we reached Pioneer Park in Provo. As the group started walking, there was exuberance in the air, we were all off on a shared adventure. I acknowledged my fear to David that he would potentially see me at my worst without having much experience with me at my best to balance it with.

We walked as a fairly large group at the first, thinning out over the first few miles. Dave and I were walking alongside his brothers and their friends who were the varsity scouts Dave was to oversee. I was impressed with the family interactions. Brothers were sensitive to one another and quietly encouraged as the miles piled up.

Through the night we walked mile after mile. The halfway point was somewhere around the Point of the Mountain which we hit in the wee hours of the morning. Many of the boys called it quits here, collapsing into vehicles, weary, cramped, and blistered. I watched their relief and for the first time wondered if I really could make this journey.

Just so we’re clear: 50 miles is so far to walk! I had it in my head that running a marathon was hard and about the furthest a body could be pushed. But since walking wasn’t as strenuous, walking twice as far should be the equivalent exertion. But I failed to consider that walking takes longer, and hence I was exerting through the hours my body would normally replenish itself through sleep.

Somewhere around American Fork, exhaustion pulled us to a grassy spot where we laid down for a brief rest. I think I even slept a short while. My body protested my will to get up and start again, moving slowly and with stiff muscles and on will alone. By this time I had an enormous blister on my right heel which was swelling with each step. Dave tried to offer aid, but the damage was beyond street-side assistance.

On we walked along Highway 89, mostly alone, much of the time quiet. I wasn’t familiar with the terrain and much of the development of the area has occurred in the years since. Through the dark and barren waste I trudged hitting the very edge of my ability. Aid stations were very sparse through the second half of the race and the only one I really remember was the Purple Turtle in Pleasant Grove, 15 miles from the end of the journey. Many people shuffled around the area, there was some cheering. But I most remember Dave’s mother, peppy and showered, walked a little with us as she searched for her husband to cheer him by walking the last stretch with him. This was just before dawn and hope and renewal revived with the energy around us.

And so we walked up the Orem hill. This was David’s home, he knew the landmarks and watching them crawl past one at a time, we felt like we were hardly moving. Finally, we arrived at the crest of the other side of the Orem hill, Provo stretching out beneath us. I scanned the horizon for the finish: Pioneer Park. I could see in the far distance a park with cabins, wagons, and a totem pole. I pointed it out to Dave and he told me he couldn’t see Pioneer Park from his vantage point. Though he’d lived here his entire life, I figured he was just near-sighted. I was weary like I’d never known. My legs wanted to buckle. Pain shot up my body with every step on that right foot’s blister. Yet, the goal was in sight. I could do this. It would take everything I had, but I could walk that measured distance and complete this trek.

And I did. I threw my arms out and my head back in victory at the wagon, “We made it!” Dave stood beside me, recognizing that I was spent, and dead wrong, and mulled over his response a minute before telling me the truth: Pioneer Park was just a little less than a mile further down the road. Blink, blink. I gestured to my supporting evidence: “This is Pioneer Park! They’ve got a wagon, there is a cabin. Why would they have those if this weren’t Pioneer Park?! This is MY Pioneer Park!” Realize at this point Dave and I had walked over 15 hours together. He was as spent as I. He also only had a few hours acquaintance with me outside of this trek. And yet quietly he acknowledged my evidence and asserted that we had a little further to walk to the finish line of the trek.

This cruel mental trick I had played on myself of visualizing a premature finish defeated me. I crumpled down into a tantrum, rocking on the ground in tears, reviewing the evidence again. Dave didn’t know what to do. So he pretty much just stood by, waiting for the storm to pass. He rightly knew there wasn’t much energy left in me to support a tantrum. There wasn’t. I hardly had water for tears. I had two options: get up and finish the race, or stop a little less than a mile from the finish and always wonder if I really couldn’t have dug a little deeper. I decided to push one last time. I apologized, adjusted my right shoe once again, held up my hand for assistance arising, and moved through a dream those last weary steps.

We completed the 50/20 at 10:00 in the morning, 16 hours from starting, a little behind Dave's sister Becca and a little ahead of his Dad. We didn’t realize this had been a race and laughed that we’d stopped for dinner and a nap. We wondered if we could have completed it sooner.

But I was in a haze of exhaustion and pain. Dave dropped me off to my apartment where I was, probably only this once, significantly alone. I promptly fell face first onto my bed and sobbed as my legs, acting of their own, curled up in answer to my hamstrings, calves, and arches’ tight pull. After a few minutes in this posture, I went to shower. There was no hot water. There was no food in my fridge. I had no mother to tend to me when I most desperately needed a mother. Once again, I had to dig deep and solve the problems only I cared about having solved.

Early in the evening David called to see if I hated him. And then he sent his mother to my apartment to attend to my blister which would keep my foot out of shoes for a solid two weeks. My loyalty was drawn with my gratitude at her care.

I’ve since read that adrenaline bonds people and if you want to fall in love, you should do things on dates that build it like sporting events, hikes, scary movies, roller coasters... I see now that this one-of-a-kind and pretty crazy first date bonded Dave and I in a unique way, though I wasn’t interested in seeing it then. I have been through many hard things in my 44 years, yet only one other time have I ever hit the edge of my capacity like I did on this walk at 49.3 miles.

And that is what I kept remembering/hating. I had been viewed at my most vulnerable and weakest point, known there for my failings. I had shown my worst side, as I feared I might, throwing a tantrum when my expectations were defeated.

There are tears in my eyes today as only now, 25 years later, I suddenly see that I also evidenced my greatest strengths. Perhaps in knowing the best and the worst, David felt well-educated in the full spectrum of my character, and continued to pursue my company.

A Love Story in Snippets -- His Phone Call and Spiritual Cartwheels

L advised me to study in the Maeser building because it had the quietest study rooms on campus. I had a six credit honors class in that building which meant long lectures several times a week, but I couldn’t readily see where those study rooms were. So after the second class, I sat in the commons area chatting with the boy who’d walked me downstairs. Conversation stopped and we both looked up as Dave approached and asked if he was interrupting anything. (Dave told me much later he thought the fellow, who I had met in class, was my boyfriend.) He was an active part of the conversation, but Dave was just one of my newest guys the day I met him. However, he did make my journal that night.

The following week, I still hadn’t found those study rooms, but I found Dave in the same place. As we visited, he mentioned that as a varsity scout coach in his ward, he was doing this 50/20 thing where the scouts walked 50 miles in under 20 hours that weekend. At the time I was a cross country runner and had friends who had trained for and run marathons. So I said I thought it sounded fun. (WHAT?!) Dave said, “Well, you’re welcome to come along.” I asked if he was serious and he asked if I was serious. And this is how a returned missionary got my phone number after my date-for-fun-more-limitedly resolution. That, and I just didn’t have much resolution in me.

Thursday afternoon Dave called my apartment phone to make arrangements for the “date.” My room was the closest to the kitchen and there was noooo mercy from my roommates who couldn’t believe a new man had hopped on my potential-man relationship train. So I stretched the apartment phone from the center kitchen cinder block wall, through my doorway, and up into my closet which I then closed as far as the door could slide with me and it’s usual contents inside.

We talked about the necessities of the trip, what to bring, what would be provided, times and such. Then we had a real conversation with one another. Dave loved camping, hiking, fishing, was one of nine children and he loved his family, he cracked jokes readily.… He was very different than the other boy/men I was entertaining. I can’t say exactly what was said at this point. But I know 45 minutes blew past and I was almost talking in a dream.

When I finally unfolded and emerged from my closet encasement, I stood up and felt my spirit jumping up and down inside. And then I believe there were a few spiritual cartwheels turned. It was a singular sensation so real and yet unrecognizable that I looked down to understand what I was feeling. I’ve never felt anything like it before or since. But, though I didn’t record it in my journal because I was NOT going to commit to this fellow yet, it is etched on my heart and has been a confirming witness to me in years since that my spirit recognized Dave’s spirit and it was delighted beyond containment.

A Love Story in Snippets -- Big Pond

Like a fish released from a little bag of water into a large aquarium, there was a lot of new territory for me to cover at BYU. Freshman were invited to come the week before school started to complete an organized orientation. My apartment in Carroll Hall was on the northeast edge of campus and many students frequented my area headed further north or east to their apartments in Heritage or Deseret Towers. Coming from a small Midwest high school where the LDS population was my family plus one, I was astounded watching all these Mormons scatter around my area.

Most notably, there were a lot of LDS GUYS! They were everywhere. And they were attracted to me. I now had male companionship for everything: running, shopping, cooking, attending games, dances, classes, activities, church… oh my! And I had a different male at each thing. I was at an all-you-can-eat buffet with more selection than I’d ever known. And I didn’t want to fill up on one dish, I wanted to sample everything.

I’m a little embarrassed to admit, but I had boys stacked on top of and stumbling over one another. I made arrangements on the apartment phone for a date with one fellow while another boy was waiting for me in the lobby. I had three dates in one day (that can be a little stressful, just so you know). While I was visiting with one boy, another would show up. I had a schedule worked out where I had 10 minutes between study partners. Really. And I thought they were jerks if they couldn’t accept the terms of my limited attention.

I liked different things about the different boys. One was particularly good looking and relatively polished. Another was spontaneous. One fellow was really sincere and tried to rearrange his schedule to allow more time with me. One was pretty fearless in pursuing me, taking me out on a date even after I had fumbled his call, guessing a couple different - legitimate - suitors first.

Now in my defense, I wasn’t holding hands with each fellow, I certainly didn’t kiss any of them. I was single and staying single for the time-being. My intentions were to learn more about these guys and recognize how I felt being around them. I had experience with boys, yes. And maybe more than most as I had a twin brother which allowed me a fly-on-the-wall vantage at times. But these were LDS guys and I needed to adjust my filter.

I was learning about myself as well as I tested out my fledgling, solo wings. I noted when I didn’t like the way I felt, even if I couldn’t place why. My parents and roommate H told me they were worried about all these boys taking all my study time. H even sat down one night in my absence and plotted out my guy map, listing pro’s and con’s for each and suggesting I focus on the top three by her estimation and learn to say no occasionally when asked out.

I figured I couldn’t keep that crazy relationship investment going and reach my academic goals. So I made a resolution: dating for fun only, and that more limited. I had a renewable scholarship, plenty of smarts, and I wasn’t a stereotypical coed working for my MRS degree. Dating for fun translated into no returned missionaries as partners as they were ready to settle down. And as far as I could see, I wasn’t at all. There was way too much fun to be had swimming in my new school.

A Love Story in Snippets -- A Whole Half of a Whole

My story from it’s earliest moment is a shared one.  In truth, everyone’s story is shared; no one would survive to adulthood without the diligent nurturing God designed us to require.  Yet I consider my co-existence even more entwined.  The first words our ears heard from the womb were the doctor’s announcing, “Mrs. B, you have a boy…. Mrs. B, you have a girl...  Mrs. B, you have twins!”  So from my earliest existence, I’ve been half of something unique.  Most times I loved it.  I had an automatic friend, a brother whose friends were fun and intriguing.  Occasionally it was a drag.  I never had my own birthday.  A willing informant at the ready, there was no room for duplicity of character in my life.  I had to be the same whether I was at home, at school, at play.  Everywhere I went, my other half, part shadow, part sun, was with me there.

Until he wasn’t.

We turned 18 at the beginning of our senior year and missionaries served at 19.  So when it was time for college to start, B was headed to Portugal and I was headed to Provo.  And for the first time in our lives, a major adventure commenced independently.  

As I read my journal, there are several times I wonder if I can manage, if I can do this alone.  L was also at BYU, but she was a 15 minute walk away and working to make her own way the same as me.  My parents were a long way away in Michigan.  And my cousin-roommate was homesick and just as preoccupied with the transitions to self-sufficiency as I.  

I took my first wobbly steps and I did manage.  I missed my family.  I noted that B was special and that I needed to find someone just as special eventually.  Yes, I was a half of a special whole.  Yet I was a whole half.