Push to the beach.

Let's start this post by giving a shout out to the people with the plan. Not the people like me who say, "Wouldn't it be fun to ...." or "We should...", but the people who say, "We've booked a vrbo at  Folly beach for these days, would you like to join us?" Those are the powerful people who make the world go round. So that happened in our family, my daughter-in-law being the awesome one. Once I knew where I was supposed to be and when, I got myself there.

It was a joyful gathering with 3 sons and 2 daughter-in-laws, 4 grandchildren, 1 brother and his wife and 3 nieces. I was happy as a clam in the house surrounded by merry loved ones full of energy and happiness. I was so happy that the thought occurred to me, "Do we really need to go to the beach to make this day great? I mean, there will be traffic and parking and sand all over the place." That was the known, we also had to deal with the unknown, and we all know how scary that can be. Bravely, I recognized that the beach was the reason we had driven 5 hours and if I wanted to be with the people I loved, I needed to push through inconvenience and possible discomfort to the beach.

Well, guess what? There was a little traffic, a little trouble parking, (Don't make a mistake when parking in a beach town. You will pay. Luckily we learned from the mistakes of others with their expensive reminders posted on their windshields) sand everywhere and the unknown, that should have been known--getting a little bit lost. But guess what else there was? THE BEST DAY EVER!

The water was so big. I always forget until I remember. It was also warm and easily swimmable. The sand was sandy, but as usual, perfect for sand creations. The sun shone, but not glaringly. We had occasional respite from the clouds. We also had a fairly new beach ingredient, the best ingredient of all--grandchildren. I can't describe the delight of watching the little posterity learn about the waves lapping at their toes, covering their ankles and then pulling the sand from under their miniature feet. We definitely had to jump over the waves and sometimes not so happily learn about how salty ocean water is.

Activities included a beach nap for the 1 year-olds, Frisbee with my son and a stranger, and a special surprise. Number 3 son brilliantly brought his inflatable kayak and took me for an adventure. We headed out past the surf in the direction of the pier. He was patient as I tried to contribute my irregular and sometimes confused but always well-intentioned paddling. I was having a lovely time moving through the gently rocking water when my son saw something. He said, "There's a shark." I thought, "That's cool. Just stay in the boat." And then we realized it was not a shark. It was a dolphin swimming not very far from us. Then two more porpoised on the right. There I was in the Atlantic ocean on a kayak with my son and dolphins swimming and jumping all around us--magical.

So, to apply this to mortal and eternal life, I want to remember to be content and thankful for what I have, but recognize that achieving the higher goal is worth the stretching and working and suffering inconvenience and even a little discomfort. It's nice to rest and gather on the couch, but then we must PUSH TO THE BEACH!

And we will come back home, home again.

Sometimes I feel like the angels plan a trip for me. That was the case last Friday when I boarded a plane for SLC. I was able to visit my cute sister, Heidi, my darling niece Katelyn and her wonderful husband, Mitchell, my awesome brother and sister-in-law John and Stephani and their family, my cherished children Rebecca and Andrew, and my loving parents. As has always been the case for me, whenever I'm on my way home to my parents' house I have a welling in my heart of gratitude and sentiment and belonging.

It was no different Saturday morning as I drove south into the UT wilderness to Richfield where my parents reside in a nursing facility. As I walked into their room at the end of the left hall, I felt like a little girl coming home.

Of course the room was decorated with antiques and flowers. Original artwork depicting my mother, painted by my Dad, adorned the walls. Dad's farming hat hung by the window in sight of the tomato plant that was just barely receiving enough sun to grow. Mom's "Book of Remembrance" stood fanned on the table top overflowing with our family tree, family pictures, and family histories. They each had scriptures by their bedside. As is always the case when I'm with my parents, our reunion was filled with love and learning.

I learned about beauty. Mom's Valentine Christmas tree was decorated with pink and red hearts. She asked me to change it out for her summer Christmas tree. From her car, which serves as extra storage, I retrieved the most exquisite silk roses. She had me place them on the permanent Christmas tree, and do you know what? They looked fabulous. Guys, everyone needs a summer Christmas tree.

On Sunday, when it was time for church, Mom got dolled up in her darling outfit accented with a perfect lace choker. Dad was dressed in his suit and had his hair combed. Never mind that there were 15 people tops at the meeting, Sunday church is special and we show respect for the occasion.

I learned about finishing strong. During the past few years, my mother has been teaching herself to play the piano. On Sundays, a young man comes from the community to play the piano for church in the nursing home. He doesn't usually arrive until 7 minutes prior, so my mom's responsibility is to play the pre-prelude. I was excited to hear her play. She does a wonderful job. But what I loved even more was when she took a detour on our way down the hall to invite a friend to church. The friend wasn't feeling well, so she got a hug and a kind word in addition to the invitation. My father's church responsibility is greeting. On this Sunday I was the force behind his intentions as I wheeled him to each person in the room where they received a warm welcome and sincere interest in their well-being. After the meeting, Dad made sure he spoke to each person who contributed to the program and thanked them. He was so disappointed that the man who sang the special musical number left before Dad could compliment him and express his appreciation. As we walked back to the room after a lovely church service, we took the long way as Mom stopped to visit her friends and make them feel loved. I was proud of the example of service these dear people give me and the rest of their posterity.

I learned about aging. I've already felt the impact of losing abilities I once had. Sometimes it seems unfair that we spend the first half of our life developing talents that slowly diminish the second half. I saw that phenomenon in a different way after spending time at home in a place I've never lived with people that I'll never stop loving. Our gifts and abilities are stored away as desires to be unlocked in their fulness at a future time in eternity. My Dad has been farming/gardening ever since I can remember. I ate peas from his mother's garden and continued to benefit from a bounteous harvest throughout my growing years. Not being able to garden has been heart-breaking for my father. That problem was solved with the planting of the tomato. From the vantage point of his bed, Dad measures the plant's growth against the wall. He worries about it's progress and makes sure that the stems aren't broken in the moving. That is one of the secret joys of gardening, watching for and caring about growth. There are so many references to gardens in the scriptures. It just goes to show, gardening is powerful. Once, after a conversation my father and I had about pomegranates and propagation and problems, he said, "Keep farming." It occurred to me that he said something very important for life.

Dad has always loved to sketch and paint people. While other people watch tv and eat. He watches tv and draws. His favorite subject is my mother. We all have favorite paintings. My favorite is a painting he painted not too long ago that won sweepstakes at the fair. Because of a stroke, he has lost vision in one eye and strength on his right side. He has been so frustrated by this because he can't walk or play the guitar or any of the other activities that brought him satisfaction, including art. Since water color is easier to manage, Mom gave him a set and encouraged him to paint. He showed me his most recent painting which was of my mother, of course. He was disappointed because it lacked the skills he had previously attained, but I was inspired because I see his heart and the gifts he has developed shining through his mortal limitations.

And as always when I'm home, I learned a little more about love. The tight hugs and gentle kisses upon arrival, the expressions of gratitude, and sincere compliments filled me to the tippy top. And when I watch my parents snuggle and visit all through the day I feel safe and warm and full of hope. When my mom was playing the piano Dad turned to me and said, "Isn't she good?" That was adorable, but after church, back in the room, Dad beckoned my mom to come to his wheelchair.  I thought he needed help, but he just whispered, "You look really pretty today." I about died from the cuteness.

What a privilege to visit and worship with these parents who have blessed my life. Our closing song in church was "God be with you til we meet again." I cried the whole way through, because I know that someday we'll have to be separated for awhile. I'm reassured, however, that families are forever, and I'm thankful for mine.

Beautiful Growth

2 springs ago, I found this beautiful lantana at the nursery. I loved it's sweet pink and yellow faces and it's heat resistant constitution. I planted 3 and they cheered up my flower bed all summer. Winter came, however, and life got hard for these little beauties.  Where was the sun? How were they expected to survive the frigid temperatures (Comparatively speaking. We're in GA after all.) Two of my lovely friends gave up. They had done their part. A summer of constant blooms is quite enough to ask of a pretty face. But one brave flower sister fought the fight  She dug in her roots and hung onto her place and returned triumphant in the spring. She didn't return as she began however, she came back stronger, taller and even more beautiful. Those roots had strengthened and had even more to give to the world.  This summer, sweet lantana was the star of the garden show and a favorite with man and butterflies.

I was reminded of this story because my daughter and I were having a conversation about a rough time she had weathered. I was feeling all motherly sadness because of her trial. She explained to me, "[During that time] a lot of beautiful growth occurred. The Lord knows. I have total trust in him."

So that storm that came yesterday? That was an opportunity for beautiful growth. Broken heart, disappointment, hardship? It's all part of the beautiful growth that occurs when we trust God and keep walking in his path.

Thanks for teaching me, baby girl.

What sleepless nights?

I know I had some rough days and crazy nights raising 9 children. I could tell some stories that would amaze, but believe me when I say that the predominant emotion in my mother heart at this stage of life is gratitude.

This is the feeling that was spilling over this weekend--my birthday weekend, my can-a-day-be-good enough-to-meet-my-impossible-expectations weekend. It was blessing day for our newest little Stoker darling, Jemma Nicole.

Gabe and I dressed in church clothes, packed some snacks, loaded Papa Stoker's rolls into the car, and commenced the 3 hr. journey early Sunday morning. Gabe took the opportunity to solidify life skills by driving on the freeway through Atlanta. Luckily, traffic is decidedly light at 7:00 am on Sunday.

We drove right to the church to meet up with #3 son and his beautiful family and my friend, his mother-in-law. A few minutes after we arrived, #4 son and his beautiful family joined us on the pew. I had been looking forward to the event, but I was not prepared for the joy that burst in my heart as I sat in church, surrounded by my posterity. When my 2 valiant sons joined in the circle as Jemma's father gave her a blessing, I wanted to shout to the world the happiness that awaits a mother who accepts the challenge of inviting children into her home to love and teach. Loud crying and tantrums and insanity? I vaguely remember it. But guess what I have now? Lovely adult friends who's company I thoroughly enjoy and grandchildren--beautiful, squishy, brilliant, hilarious grandchildren.

Since Caden and Lucy were going to the nursery class during Sunday School, I decided that's where I would be going also. I tried to be helpful. I tried to not play favorites, but Grandmas know what Grandkids need so that's where I tried to be the most helpful.

Lucy's toys of choice: goggles, cell phone, baby and thermometer.

Cars for Caden

So stinkin cute

After church we went to the house and had a delicious lunch, took some pictures and relaxed a bit. My birthday needs had been met by the association with loved ones, but my friend had made a fabulous birthday strawberry cheesecake which blew the top off of the party, and I was favored with a magical rendition of "Happy Birthday."

Baby Jemma in the blessing dress her mother wore.

Meet Redmond.

Daddy's little girl

Grandma Black knows what Jemma wants.

Jemma's all changed into something more comfortable.

Couch Picture!

Time passed quickly and then it was time to end the fun until next time. Impossible expectations met.

PS My birthday continued to surprise and delight as phone calls, gifts, cards, etc. arrived. Thank you, kind loved ones.

Don't turn around too soon. You're not quite there.

Last week I recognized that I needed to exercise, for sure, today. I decided to walk down to the lake and back. I pulled up a conference talk on my phone and set out. When I got to the lake parking lot, I stepped off of the sidewalk and onto the black top and made an about face. As I did, this impression came to my mind, "Are you going to come all that way and not be healed?" I had reached my goal, but was going to skip the best part, the lake. So, I turned around and went the extra mile, er yards, to stroll along the dock, gaze into the water, feel the breeze, and look for turtles.

                                  As I walked back through my neighborhood, (up some very challenging hills) I thought of other applications for this principle. When I read my scriptures do I get to the next chapter and close the book, or read until I feel something and learn something and change? When I go to church  do I turn around in the metaphorical parking lot or go all the way to renew covenants with the Savior, remember Him, receive and share his love, and let it heal me.

My to do list is a great tool. I just need to remember that I want to do more than check things off. I want to grow into something beautiful, loving and good.

The second 1/2 of I heart summer-July

July has a built-in firecracker start (get it?) 4th of July is just a great holiday.  The patriotism brings the emotion. Red, white and blue are snappy colors that don't get worn enough. And the city plans the party for me. All I have to do is provide the food. The secret that can't be underestimated, however, is that the celebration must be with loved ones. I guess that's the secret to every special day. I'm very thankful to Nathan and Ariane and Caden for driving the 3 hours to be with us. They were the highlight of the holiday.

The celebration of freedom began with a musical fireside at our church on Sunday night. Paul and I were singing in the choir. (The choir needs Paul and I need choir.) Gabe was part of the flag ceremony and played the snare on 2 of the songs. He came in strong.

Monday was the day Nathan was off of work, so Monday was the day we had our family celebration.

We can always use a little more music

Caden wasn't feeling great, but would rise to the occasion when he could.

Signs that a grandchild might be in the vicinity.

Ladder Ball-my first time playing

2 lovely people + one on the way

What Dad's do on 4th of July. The blow torch leaves no doubt.

Nice form,

Our family had to leave us, but Paul and Gabe were good Independence Day sports, and we went to the famous Peachtree City golf cart parade. It's a beautiful thing. Not too far away. Not too long. Not too crowded. We salute the flag, say "Hey" to the people we know, cheer the floats and then go home when we feel like it. Happy 4th of July, USA. Consider yourself celebrated.

The next amazing summer event was planned by my sister, Carrie. She texted us and said, "We're cleaning out Mom and Dad's house and having a yard sale. If you want to help, come to Manti, UT on July 13-15. I did want to help. I especially wanted to help Carrie and her husband Gabe because they know how to get things done.

I got on the plane and then the train and then my daughter's sweet roommate picked me up and took me to their apartment. It was so fun to meet one of  Rebecca's favorite people. That evening we attended to Provo City Center temple. It was wonderful being with those beautiful, kind girls.

I stayed with my brother-in-law and his family and then headed out to Manti. I remember driving to Manti from Provo to see my Grandparents when I was a little girl. The road was soooooooo long. When we finally saw this come into view we would jump for joy. Well, it was actually more like a small, car hop.The Manti temple beckons us from its place on the hill, not just to Grandma's and Grandpas', but to our real home in heaven.

When I arrived, of course everything was well in hand. Gabe was running the yard sale. He seems harmless, but somehow people walked away with many more purchases than they had planned. And they felt good about it. Those are skills, people. Carrie was cleaning like a mad woman. Megan and Travis and their kids came to work, so there was plenty of help to go around. And, bonus-I was with some of my favorite people. That's why I did more talking than working. Sorry not sorry.

Megan's Susie and Ivy, Megan, and Carrie

Megan's Eliza, Miller and husband Travis

Megan, me and Carrie

Gabe

On Friday night, there was a knock on the door and this sweet neighbor came by to say "Hello." In our conversation she mentioned that her husband's family had homesteaded my parent's place. This was meaningful because my Dad had painted a picture of this family and it seemed to just belong to the land. It didn't feel right taking it away. What would be the meaning of it in GA or any other state? I was happy to give it to her so it could be with the right people in the right place.

Saturday, Carrie and Gabe finished up and I drove over to visit my parents in Richfield. My mom took me for Chinese Food. I remember her taking me for Chinese food when I was a little girl. Mom always ordered root beer. 

Saturday night I drove back to Provo area and visited my sweet niece and her husband . She was courageously living in the hospital while her little momo twins were growing. They're here now. I'm so proud of her for living with faith, hope and courage.

I was also able to spend a bit of time with my sweet Lucy and Red. They and their beautiful mom, Clarissa, were staying with their other grandparents who are fantastic people, by the way.  They are now living altogether with their dad in North Carolina, (who stopped by my house on the way) and I hope to see them again very soon.

Sunday, I went to church with Miss Rebecca. I enjoyed listening to her teach Sunday school. I was then treated to an afternoon jam session with our family friend, McKay. All in all, a wonderful day. And then I got on the plane and then the car and drove home.

For years, my sister, Mary, has been inviting me to join her at BYU-I education week. This is something I've wanted to do since I went to BYU Provo ed week as a 17 yr. old. I hadn't been available till this year. Getting to Idaho Falls is tricky, but I decided to go for it. The weekend didn't disappoint. The classes were inspiring, the concerts-terrific, and the company heavenly. We got to visit with another darling niece and her baby and husband. I'm definitely looking forward to a repeat.

We had one last visit from Carrie and Gabe and kids, and I took one last trip up to Detroit and now the summer is over.

 

Looking over the Detroit River to Canada

Lake St. Claire

Hyrum's first time sliding the pole by himself.

But the fun is not. Jemma was born.

 And the eclipse is on Monday. Bring on the fall!