Coming Home is one of life's best moments. I believe it will be one of the next life's best moments also. So this blog is dedicated to what I view as the best moments of life.
So here we are in 2019; garden #30, give or take. I love gardening. I believe in gardening. I actually stink a little bit at gardening. But I recognize that the lessons from the fails are where the true value lies. (Unless it's from being self sufficient and living off the land in which I've totally not been successful.)
I've told you about the deer gangs, right? There are little groups of deer that run the neighborhood aggressively searching and destroying the tastiest crops. The group with the 2 point buck is the boldest. He walks up the stairs and eats the potted flowers on the porch :( I've been fighting with these neighborhood devourers since moving to GA 9 years ago. I've tried milk, organic granules, stinky liquid spray (expensive), Irish Spring soap, (cheap) human hair, you name it. This year my sweet son in law put in this awesome electric fence.
It works perfectly. First lets talk about the analogy of the electric fence. We leave it on at all times, unless we're weeding, trimming the grass etc. In that case we unplug it when we start and plug it in again when we finish...unless we don't. Once we didn't and those darned deer went right in and ate my roses, flowers, blueberries, etc. Demolished them. Not only did that make me hoppin mad, it taught me something. One of those deer is testing every night to see if the defense is in place...every night. Even if the defense is in place for 30 nights, they will test again. This reminded me of a principle.
1. Satan is tempting us and trying to destroy us every day. We have to make sure our defense is always in place. We might have been strong and acting in faith every day, but on the day we decide it isn't important that one day won't matter the destroyer will be waiting to breach the safeguard.
Yesterday I gained another little understanding. I had planted tomatoes, cucumbers, watermelon, cantaloupe, peppers and wild flowers. In the first place there's probably not quite enough sun in that spot, but it's the best I have. More threateningly, somebody likes to eat tomatoes and cucumbers even more than I do. I almost solved the deer problem, but I still have rabbits, squirrels, birds, bugs and horn worms. Add that to sweltering temps and high humidity, frankly, I feel like I'm losing. I continue to water and try to care, but I'll admit I was feeling discouraged as I looked at my half eaten, withered, bug infested crop absent of any tomatoes other than little green ones that I knew would soon disappear the minute they became palatable. As we have gotten into September, with shorter days, slightly lower temps and if not cooler at least less humidity, the flowers have experienced a renewal. That fact brought hope, so I poked around a little bit to see if anything else had managed to grow. There, under the foliage, was a ripe cucumber and five red grape tomatoes. I was thrilled, thankful for the good luck and miraculous harvest. Then I realized a simple truth. If I hadn't planted the seeds, I wouldn't have the harvest. Believe in the future, plant the seeds, make the plans, work to solve the problems, (you're gonna have them), and watch for the miracles.
We all know we aren't in this parenting thing for the money, or really any reward other than to have people we love to hang out with in this world and the next. I know that "When you're helping, you're happy" so I go along washing clothes, making food, cleaning stuff--the normal party every day.
But last week I got the sweetest thank you that just melted my heart. My #4 son was visiting and just being an all around gem-- He was helping me move cars around as we had them parked all over the cul-de-saq to aid in the removal of some trees. After moving #9 son's car he said, "I looked down at a scrap of paper in the passenger seat and saw a 'Mom map.' I got sentimental as I remembered the 'Mom maps' that got me all around town in high school. Those were good maps."
When that child remembered with gratitude a small thing I had done for him, I thought I would burst with love and happiness. I guess it's because it was a little evidence that my Mom life made a difference.
That's all. I just wanted everyone to know that being a mom is a really important job.
Bitter-1.not sweet. 2. Angry, hurt or resentful because of one's bad experiences or a sense of unjust treatment.
So, we're weathering a couple of storms over at our house. And I know you are weathering some storms at your house. I know this because that's how life goes. Houses flood. Cars break down. People disappoint us. We disappoint them. And I, for one, do not like it. Do you know what I like? I like smooth sailing, good news, happy people, appliances that work perfectly- always, basically me bon voyaging through life.
Instead, we have occasional super awesome amazing days with lots of crazy other days. One of the things that's making me crazy right now is trying to register my mother's car. This is a long, whiny story, but it illustrates a principle. There are a few things required to register a car in the great state of GA, not a million things, just a few. Why is this so hard?
1. Title-In January Mom directed me to her safe and provided the combination. Unfortunately the safe was old, and the combination no longer worked. Coincidentally (miraculously) a friend was able to remove the door with his tools so the title was acquired. Crisis averted. Should be easy from here.
2. Driver's license-this includes birth certificate and marriage license which were on the moving truck which was supposed to come the end of January, but instead came the end of March. We ordered another birth certificate, but when trying to order the marriage certificate we were told by 3 counties that they didn't have it. For the record, it was in Salt Lake County (the first place we called).
3. Emissions certificate was obtained in January but expired while we waited for the marriage license. By the time the marriage license came, the car battery was dead. My husband replaced the battery. When he went in to get another certificate, he was told that he had to drive the car 100 miles with the new battery before they could issue another certificate. Mind you, we were to drive 100 miles without car registration. Basically, we were driving around trying to avoid the po po.
4. GA insurance. I was informed that Nationwide is not really nation wide. We needed insurance from GA. We got new insurance. A month later I received an email saying that I had not supplied proof of previous insurance. (I had emailed it to them.) On the phone they said they would reinstate the insurance and they were sorry for the inconvenience. Today, June 3, I went again to try and register the car. I was told that our insurance policy was not in the GA data base. This was the 3rd visit to DDS in 3 months.
I did not feel sweet. I was angry and resentful because of my bad experience and had a sense of unjust treatment. I managed to not take it out on the DDS employee, but I was thinking up all kinds of threats in my mind for the insurance people. In the cooling down process, I have recalled some truths that I believe.
Richard G. Scott said, "God loves us more than our happiness." We also know that "Man is that he might have joy." 2 Nephi 2:25 The hard part is trusting that the trials we encounter, ranging from inconvenient to excruciating, can land us in a joyful place. Obviously, we need to make the best choices we can to minimize upsets, but living in this mortal world as a mortal can be tricksy. From up close, sometimes it seems like life is really falling apart. But judging from the mountains in Yosemite, the bays and beaches in Hawaii, roses, fireflies, hummingbirds, butterflies, and sweet little chubby babies, God is a very good planner, and if we "Walk uprightly and be believing all things will work together for our good." Doctrine and Covenants 90:20
Since God created us, he knows all about what humans are capable of. He knows what he wants us to be and he knows how to get us there. He also knows that we have to choose. We have to choose to trust him and obey him and love him and try again when we do it wrong and call on the name of Jesus Christ for grace and mercy. In short he wants us to change into someone pure and beautiful and full of love and other Christlike qualities, one of which is patience.
God wants his children to be like him and have the joy that he has. I think about what I do to help my children change. If I want my children to become strong I might have them stack wood or some other strenuous, long lasting task, but they don't like it. If I want them to learn the law of the harvest, I have them plant and weed and water a garden, but they don't like it. If I want them to learn to be obedient, I give them rules and consequences, and they don't like it, but I don't care. I love them and I know they'll thank me later.
So, if my Heavenly Father wanted to help me be more patient, wouldn't it be perfect to have me encounter obstacle after obstacle in trying to accomplish a potentially simple task? I can be angry and learn the long slow way, or I can be flexible and try again and look for lessons to learn and accept the opportunities to change and improve and trust that things will work for good.
Which leads me to the title of this post. This is a powerful little principle that my daughter taught me. Just as Jesus was humble and obedient in His trial and said, "Not my will, but thine be done." We can trust in God and his love and plan for us to change and grow and then serve him even better. We don't need to become bitter when we drink the bitter cup or cups that are a crucial part of this beautiful process we call life. In fact "we can see that the Lord in his great infinite goodness doth bless and prosper those who put their trust in him." Hel 12:1 "The fear of man bringeth a snare; but whoso putteth his trust in the Lord shall be safe." So when I don't get what I want right now, even though it's an excellent idea if I may say so myself, I will try not be angry or resentful. I will be sweet and flexible and trust that I'm going to love the ending to my story.
Well, it's Mother's Day today, and fun fact, I'm going to actually be with my mother. Since my Dad passed in January, I have had the privilege of having her live in my house. I'm going to tell the truth, I've been working a lot harder than I usually do. (Says the girl that dreams of sitting on the couch eating bon bons and watching happy endings) It feels much like having a baby. I have someone depending on me now, and I have to consider her needs whether it's inconvenient or not. But unlike a baby, she is grateful and thanks me and showers me with compliments. This person who rocked me when I cried, and changed and fed me when I needed it, the one who taught me how to count and walk and fold clothes and wash windows needs a little help. I am thrilled to be the one to give it to her.
And I want to do it right. It feels like a high and holy commission from God. Recognizing my deficits, I have had the desire as of late to become a better server. I want to advance from the present "Call me if you need anything" (which isn't a bad thing) to "Oh, you're a Jew and you've been taken by thieves, beaten and left on the roadside? Let me clean you, heal you, feed you and take you to an inn. I will pay the innkeeper and return in a few days." I believe God hears and answers prayers and desires, and one way he could be answering mine is by giving me time with my sweet mother.
Another way she is a blessing in my life is all that she teaches me through her example. Whether she's eating her meal at home at the dining table or in her bed at a hospital or rehab center, she bows her head to thank her Heavenly Father.
She treats people with respect. When her nurse or housekeeper or physical therapist or aid comes into her room she says, "_______, let me introduce you to my daughter." She calls people by name and is generous with her sincere compliments. Even though she's 83 years old and sometimes asks me the same questions (actually, I do that too) she has all her records in order. Where I'm forever looking for my receipts,cards, and documents, hers are filed and at the ready. She reads her scriptures every day and keeps the post office in business with all the Thank you notes she sends. Even though her heart is aching with the loss of her eternal sweetheart, she lights the room with her jokes and warm laughter. And she never buys any clothes that aren't pretty, even if they're on clearance,
Dying has been part of conversations with my dad ever since I can remember. He'd make comments like, "Dying is easy. It's living that's hard," and "When I get old I'm going to stop going to the Doctor. I don't want to just be hanging around in bed," and "If I can't be in my garden, just let me die," and the most recent, "A friend told me if I get a good chance to die I should take it." I'd heard these comments a thousand times. I also saw him survive serious illness if not a thousand, definitely several times. When I was very young my father had an ostomy to help him overcome IBC. He contracted the mumps when I was about 8 years old.When I was a teenager he suffered from Bells Palsy. Later, my brother, Pete, donated his kidney to my Dad because his kidneys were failing. Dad had surgery on his lungs after several bouts of pneumonia. Each time he was in trouble I would try and picture life without him, and my heart would break.
During his last years, each visit came with the nagging question, will this be our last time together? This question made each minute together a tender gift. I definitely noticed his decline in health, but each time we thought it was the end, he would rally. My sister said that she saw where the doctor had written on his chart, "Does not die easily."
Last summer I was teaching my son, Gabe, how to garden.Watermelons were his most prolific crop. I was thrilled about this because Dad grew hundreds of watermelons and it felt like a family legacy. In the gardening process I remember thinking, "I need to ask Dad how to know when to harvest the melons." A few days later I got a call that Dad was failing and not communicating at all." I thought of my burning gardening question and began sobbing as I realized I might not have access to my father until the next life. As luck would have it, my Dad rallied again. I casually asked him on the phone through my tears when I should harvest my watermelons. (Yes I know about google, but where is the family heritage in that?)
Because of these frequent recoveries the actual end surprised me. On January 12, 2019, Mom called in the morning to ask us to pray for Dad because he wasn't doing very well. Of course I prayed, but I wondered, "Is this like last time when he wasn't doing very well and then he was?" When I got the message that he had passed I couldn't believe it.
As is my way, when I start to plummet emotionally, I jump into action. It's not always the most effective or efficient action, but action feels better than sadness. And action was good, because there was a lot to be done. There are 10 children in our family and it took contributions from everyone to make everything happen. We made arrangements to travel to Richfield, UT. Mary drove down first and took care of all the funeral details. Nieces created slideshows and table centerpieces. There were airport pickups, driving through snow, housing arrangements, musical preparations and lots of love to distribute.
I got to Richfield a couple of days before the funeral. I was able to learn about a day in the life in the nursing home by staying in the room with Mom a couple of nights. I enjoyed meeting the friends and nurses that my parents loved. It was a treat to listen to the Durfee band entertain with a morning concert. I did not enjoy the way that not enough residents sleep in the night. One gentleman called out for help at 4:00 am. I woke up with a start ready to save him. I learned that he just likes to wake up early, but the nurses told him they won't let him get ready for the day until 6:00 am. The next door neighbor also wakes up in the night, bored, so just starts chatting. Bless everyone's heart.
Mary was working really hard planning the funeral, I worked a little bit trying to arrange Mom's move, but we managed to have a little play time. We hit the Mexican restaurant at least 3 times and I finally got to drive by the Miller home--bucket list win.
Thursday night the family headed over to Manti to gather, practice singing, and prepare for the next day's activities. I stayed with Mom so I could help her load the car and drive away from her life with Dad. As luck would have it, we woke up to snow. Not this Georgia girl's fave. I couldn't find an ice scraper so begged a plastic putty knife from the kind maintenance man. We'll just call that the first miracle of the day. With Mom in her van and me in my rental car we headed towards Manti. Unfortunately, my cell phone doesn't work very well in remote Utah towns so I had no GPS. I wasn't concerned however, because I was following Mom who had made the trip to Manti many times. Well, that was a lot of pressure for an 82 year old woman who had just lost her husband of 60 years. We missed the exit and found ourselves driving up an unfamiliar canyon. Looking for the second miracle of the day we solicited help from kind strangers who happily pointed us in the right direction. We were thankful but stressed, I'm going to say really stressed. We were an hour late to the viewing. I realized I had one job, and I didn't do it as well as I'd hoped. That being said, we made it.
When we walked into the church my heart filled with joy. Over a hundred of my favorite people in life were there to remember my father. I think that's what heaven feels like, siblings, nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles, old friends from California, children, even a friend from GA all bringing love.
There was a moment at the viewing when Mom and her children gathered around the casket. It's hard to describe the sacredness of that time. Our eternal family, gathered in one place. We missed my brother, Pete,
but it was a privilege to stand with those cherished people and say goodbye to our Dad who loved, taught, protected and provided for us.
Dad had been planning his funeral for years. I think it was one of his favorite activities. It was not my mom's favorite activity. He had song requests, speaker requests, so many requests we were looking at an all day affair. We decided to have each child take 5 minutes. The daughters and daughter in law sang "I heard Him Come."
Heidi sang, "Consider the Lilies of the Field," and the Grandchildren sang "A Child's Prayer."
We came in under an hour. Mom said she wants the same program but instead of "Lilies of the Field," "Oh Holy Night." Heidi generously volunteered everyone else for that one.
The graveside dedication was picturesque with the Manti temple in the background and family in the foreground.
The casket was beautifully crafted by the neighbor, wild flowers were placed on top. Wildflowers were a fitting choice. Dad was not a fan of too much order in the landscape. He didn't like it when "The lawn looks like an extension of the carpet." :)
Watching the handsome and beloved sons and grandsons carry the casket was another tender moment in an already tender day.
Upon returning to the church, the Manti ward provided a delicious luncheon.We used this time to finish the rest of Dad's requests. Melinda, Susie and Mary sang, "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy" Dad's favorite performance by his daughters. Mary's girls sang, "I Can't Help Falling in Love with You." This was my parents' romance song. My family sang, "Dooley." It's a bootleg song, but Dad loved it because it came from the Andy Griffith Show. Melinda's family sang "120 Acres." Charlie and Meg sang "To Know, Know, Know You." It was the song playing during Mom and Dad's honeymoon. Charlie also walked on his hands as per Dad's request. Trevor and Jack sang "Dear Theodosia." One of our friends observed, "Millers put the fun in funeral." I'm proud of that.
I actually love funerals. I feel exhausted from the sadness and joy and love and sentiment and fear and faith that swirls in my brain and heart. But I'm so thankful that I had that person, and I like that I ache at their absence. Sorrow at parting tells me that I loved deeply and that is sweet knowledge. There have been many words describing what it's like when a loved one goes home. Those words are true, but that's not all, and I didn't know it until I felt it. It's happiness that the person is safe and home and free from mortal trials. It's regret for the missed opportunities for love that pride or anger or an unforgiving heart might have stolen for a while. It's a pain in my chest that lives there now. It's smiling when I think of him complaining about his big house because if he forgot his comb he had to walk too far. It's gratitude for his desire to love God and family and serve those around him, and it's hope that our family can gather again in a circle someday.
