That One

I often wondered what position you'd have played if you'd been interested in football, if Brandon hadn't been the football player in the family. You've experienced some trials that many will never go through, and you've allowed them to turn you into the man you've become. I'm so proud of you. Happy Birthday. I love you.

That One

beneath the glare of the stadium lights
all eyes are on the high arc of the football
except mine
I watch him--that one
waiting, expectant, his pliable stance
anticipating exactly how far to move forward
where to place his hands
for the perfect catch
he is ready
although he always hated
being the center of attention
and never let me give him a birthday party
not for any number of Ninja Turtle figurines
but he’ll stand in the limelight now
with the same focus
for the right game

the ball falls gracefully
giving him time to think
judge where to place his body
how many steps between adolescence and manhood
moving forward
anticipating the exact second
the ‘whhhoot’ sound that only he will hear
when time, space and matter meet in his open, steady hands
he wedges the ball hard against his breast
the crook of his left arm
leans into the rush
determined, fast on his feet
like that time
north of Duschene
icicles on the sage brush
being chased over snowdrifts
not caring where he ran
navigating ravines and embankments
with those sliding-into-home moves
that had them both impressed--
how does a boy learn to run like that?
and distressed--
we better bring him back

now
he looks ahead far enough
to judge the next step
the right direction
how big the linebacker rolling toward him
how close to the goal line this time
even though it’s almost certain
he won’t make it
but the hope is worth it
a whole field of spectators cheer him on
rise to their feet
while he rushes
into the organized melee
turning left, then right
he is fast, so fast
he'll make it one day
yeah
he’s the one I watch
that one

Ten Reasons Why You Should Have a Great Birthday

You make my daughter laugh
You gave her the lowest 'dip' I've ever seen on a dance floor (at your wedding)
You're an expert pasta cooker
You read books to your boys and play with them
You're willing to (and do) use your priesthood to bless others
You do your own taxes
You taught me to play 'Settlers'
You are sensitive to others needs
You played lots of chess with Brandon and he loved that
You made all the difference in his graveside service
Happy 30th Austin!

I Love You

for the way your eyes crinkle at the corners when you laugh
for obligatory dance parties
for how cute you looked in braces
I love you for a laugh that's all yours
I love you for the face you make when something sounds gross
and for all the recipes you gave me that start with 'one stick of butter'
I love you for the compassion you have for the down and out
for eating my spinach
watering my plants
and feeding my cat
I love you for teaching me how to lead music
for your tender heart
for your bizarre sense of humor
and because you understand mine
I love you because you keep getting back up
I love you for the way you snuggle with your children
and love palm trees
and burritos
and chocolate
and traveling
I love you for sitting with me in silence day after day
and because you love hydrangeas
and gardenia bushes
and the smooth sound of a car's perfect engine
I love you for forgiving me when I stayed out of your life for awhile
and for loving me when I came back
I love you for the way you balance your checking account,
even though I do mine just the opposite
they still come out the same
I love you for teaching me to love puzzles
to play star wars and deep sea creatures and Settlers of Catan
I love you for the way you giggle
and squeal
and run with your feet crossing over each other
because you just can't help the happiness
I love you for your freckles
your long eye-lashes
your piggy toes
your dimples
and even your moles
I love you for all those times you washed my car
and took out the garbage
and helped weed the flower beds
and sent me funny cards that made me laugh
I love you for going with me to the ballet when you didn't really want to
and I even love you for laughing out loud when you weren't supposed to
I love you for the way you looked at me then
and the way you look at me now
I love you for teaching me how to laugh at the most absurd
pray for the most awful, and believe in the unbelievable
I love you for introducing me to Thai cuisine
for all those long walks and long talks
for girls' nights out and the mcbc
I love you for the way you fell in love with parenthood
for the way he adores you
the way you love him
and listening while I cried
I love you for calling me Sis
for calling me Mom
for calling me Baby
for calling me Poose, and Guh, and Monkey Mama
and just for calling
I love you for the first time we met
and for the next time we meet
for your resilience in the face of adversity
for all the pies and homemade bread and beet pickles
and because you love Jesus
I love you because you send me funny emails and serious ones
and some in between
I love you because you sat with me when I was going through chemo
I love you because you drove me to the hospital in the middle of the night
I love you for your beauty that spills out in your writing and in song
for the sound of your voice when you say, 'Hey, Buddy!'
and because you know just where to scratch when I say 'hairy patch'
I love you for our shared experiences
for going first at the Senior Thesis Event
for the things we could tell about Justin and Tina and Kate
I love you for building me a garden when I could only watch
because you dance even though sometimes, you can't
for knowing I'd still love you even after you told me about waking up inside a bass drum
I love you because you made sure that I had snow chains in my car
you believe I can do anything and that makes me try harder
you forgave me, more than once
and the look in your eyes tells me that I hang the moon

I love you for every minute and every hour and every day we've shared
for hanging in and holding on and never letting up or letting go
I love you for adding your own special color to the fabric of my life
I, simply, love you
Happy Valentine's Day!

Dearest Austin

I was hoping that for my 100th post I would have something amazing to write about. Well, I do. Chantel just called to tell me that your surgery this morning was a success. I knew it would be, but I couldn't stop myself from bursting into tears. She is probably giving you a kiss right now. You are such an integral part of our family. How I love you. How I prayed for you, and will continue to until you are running and jumping with your little boys again, pain free. May your recovery be swift and sure! In the meantime, know that you are surrounded by love from every side. xo Mom

Happy Birthday to my Niece

Is this the sweetest photo or what? Clayton was over the other day to hang out with me and I overheard his mentioning to Rachel how he remembered this photo of Estee and always liked it. Me too. Yesterday was her birthday. Happy Birthday Sweetheart. I hope you ate some cake for me. Ten things I love about you, Estee:

You were my first niece
You laugh at the absurd (really smart people do that)
You are creative and multi-talented (hint: take a piece of string and create something beautiful)
You love your cousins and know a quality aunt when you see one
You like to bake cookies (Someday I will give you my cookie cutter collection; I even have feet that I picked up when I went to Germany)
You are slow to anger
You are patient in adversity
You take on life with courage and determination
You are a devoted family member in every way
You are beautiful

A Woman's Influence

The following is from an email I received from an aunt who lives in Tennessee. She gave me permission to post this. My reply follows:

Dear Martha,

I have found your address and even pulled up your blog spot and read with both tears and pride about what you are experiencing. Using a computer is difficult for me and I often delete when I do not mean to. Also, I am totally new to blogs. I sorta of one finger type and have to go back and correct all of the time, so I am slow. But, I am overwhelmed by all that computers offer.

Back to you, what an inspiration you are and what courage you are showing. You look adorable in the wig, too. I always keep you and little Andrew in my prayers. You could not know this, but I have always prayed for Anne and all of you children for years. I am sorry that I have not gotten to know all of you and that you really do not know much about me. But, you may be sure that I have been impressed with all of you and what wonderful people you are. Your father would be so proud of you for he loved you all very much. I do hope that this reaches you as I often get messages returned. This building has poor cable connections and, recently, my carrier was changed. Now that I know how to get your blog, I'll check it frequently and continue my prayers for God's all encompassing love to surround you and your family and restore you to health of mind, body and spirit.

Love, Aunt Claire

Dear Aunt Claire and other readers,

We left Memphis and all family on both sides when I was ten years old and moved to Kansas City. There would be thirteen more moves during the next four years. At sixteen I married and put all my energy into creating and maintaining my own family. My other siblings were scattered, living in other states, but all on the west coast. Eventually I ended up doing what many people were doing in the 80's, and going for psychotherapy. During one visit I realized with clarity that I needed to go home again. It had been almost 30 years. My sister Rachel went with me and we spent a lot of time prior to the trip talking about our excitement and our fears. Aunt Claire you couldn't have known that I was the most nervous about your approval of me. Would I still have manners? Would I act like a lady? Would I be the same Martha that you remembered?

Well, now it's my turn to tell you that even though I loved all my aunts and uncles, you are the one woman I admired and respected the most and I still do. Especially now, when I feel the cruelty of facing cancer alone, I remember that you were widowed and raised two children alone during a time when women had to fight for their right to independence. You were the one who determined your own boundaries and lived by them. Even though you must have shed many tears alone, you are one of the strongest women I know and your example has given me strength and courage.

Since that first visit in 1987, my siblings and I have made other trips home, separately and together, and we've been able to reconnect with family including Uncle Don (now the family patriarch) and numerous cousins. Sometimes I wonder if my life journey will send me back to my roots in a more permanent way. My thoughts these days are never far from my childhood--barbeques in Aunt Claire's backyard with my dad at the grill, chasing fireflies, the giant hydrangea bush next to Granny's back porch, Pop in his rocker with his pipe and the smell of pipe smoke that I love to this day.

Aunt Claire, thank you for your constant love and prayers for us all these years. It's an honor to call you mine and I look forward our next family reunion in Florida. Love, Martha

The Best of Gifts

My daughter, the gift of your presence for graduation weekend means more than I can begin to express. Your love is a priceless treasure--rich, beautiful, immeasurable. And the quilt! The heartfelt and thoughtful symbolism of the laurel wreath, all the love that went into every stitch. I will cherish it always.

Happy Birthday Austin!

I've loved you completely from the minute you stuck your fork in that bite of spinach on my plate...

Last Morning Love

Today I return home to the Bay Area and I admit, it is with great ambivalence. I have loved being in a new place, seeing new country, checking out some universities (yesterday I went to Baltimore), but mostly I have loved being with, and a part of, this wonderful family.

Chantel, You are everything a mother could hope for. Your love for your family and the consistent, firm, and loving way you and Austin parent is a joy and a wonder to see. You are an example to all of us and I love and appreciate your strength, testimony and faith. Thank you for the extra care you gave me, my own space, the special mattress, waiting to decorate the tree until I got here. Thankyou for including me in family nights and family prayer, for the beautiful stocking, and for all the extra traveling we did together to see this wonderful part of the country. I will miss you and yours, but I know that our family love is forever. My favorite memory will be hearing and seeing your morning ritual of love with your little ones--what a treasure. With Love, xo, Mom

Reading time before breakfast.

Morning love with Owen

Soren grabs Owen for a kiss--notice his hand on Owen's ear!

Miss You, Dad

Dear Dad,

It’s been six years ago today since you left and went to the other side. I miss you and I still think about you often. Mother misses you like crazy, but I’m sure you know that. When are you coming for her? My guess is you’ll be coming soon. When she goes I will miss her too, but honestly, I’ll be so happy knowing you two are together again.

When my marriage fell apart a few years ago, I thought I was going to die of grief, and losing you and Mother was a part of that. I just couldn’t imagine not being part of your family. I’ve since come to understand that nothing breaks the bonds of love, not divorce and not death. I don’t know if you ever realized how much I needed you in the early days, have always needed you and Mother. I look back and see such a little girl. With Larry, I got the package deal! You never criticized our decision to run away and get married. Your demeanor was the exact opposite of Martin’s: kind, solid, calm under pressure, self-assured. I wish I could have been there the time he came to the house in a rage, demanding ‘his daughter’ back. My Mom to this day talks about how well you handled him, diffusing his anger while standing your ground and standing up for us, young as we were. Looking back, I realize you and Mother must have had your own concerns, your private talks, your worries, but we only knew love and support from the very first day. I always knew that I was loved and would be protected, and I was.

You know what I miss? I miss talking to Mother on the phone, knowing that you’re sitting in the bedroom on the extension phone. You never said much, but you were always there, listening, supporting us, offering a few words when they were needed.

I miss the simple family nights we used to have on Mondays, watching “Little House on the Prairie” together in the den, until President Kimball said that that wasn’t enough. Apparently, lots of LDS families were doing the same thing. We didn’t stop watching the show, but after that you and Mother made sure we had a lesson every week. Sometimes we’d have it at our new house, or over at the motel with Hal and Kathy. After they moved to California, seems like we had it at our house most of the time. We were always getting together for family night, or Sunday dinner with you and Mother, or someone’s birthday party.

Lately I’ve been reading a book called, The Five Love Languages. It’s all about the different ways people communicate and receive love. If we don’t recognize our partner’s or children’s ‘language’ we might miss out on the love they’re offering us (since people usually ‘talk’ in the way they also receive.) Well, one of my languages is “words of affirmation.” I need to hear words such as, “I love you.” Yours, on the other hand, is “acts of service” and I use the present tense because I suspect you’re still working, going about your life quietly but getting the job done. I realize now you said “I love you” every day by the things you did for us. I used to say, “I love you, Dad.” And you always used to answer in the plural, “We love you, too.”

Remember that time I got an infection beneath the skin on my face? Man, that hurt. The doctor was going to hospitalize me if it didn’t get better within 24 hours. I wasn’t worried about going to the hospital, but I was worried about having to be separated from Chantel. She was just a year old then and still nursing. I had to stop breast-feeding for a few days because the medicine they gave me was so strong. I don’t think she missed that too much because you and Mother took such good care of us. You came to the house and gave me a blessing. I remember when you left, I was lying in bed. I said “Bye” and then, as you were walking away I yelled, “Dad?” You said, “Yeah?” I could tell you had stopped in the hallway. I said, “I love you.” You paused for just a second then said, “I love you too!” It was the first time you ever said “I” instead of “We.” But then right after that you said, “We love all you girls!” And I smiled to myself. That’s always been a wonderful memory. I got well too and didn’t have to go to the hospital after all.

I never realized how hard it must have been for you and Mother when we moved away to California, until Chantel and Austin moved to Maryland. I remembered Mother writing about her own feelings when we left Idaho. We were young and had such a future. By then you and Mother must have known what I’ve since learned too—that family is the only thing that makes the future worthwhile. You and Mother always supported our decisions and helped in any way you could even if that meant leaving you. Dad, there’s no way I can express how I feel about you and what you did for our family. Without your support—emotional, financial, spiritual—there would have been no “us.”

Your legacy of always doing what needed to be done has been a powerful one. I don’t think you know that I gave the girls in Young Women a lesson once on service with you as the example, how you worked two jobs, then worked Larry’s little arms and legs—an act of faith—in spite of the fact that the doctor’s had said he’d never walk.

And remember that time we went away for a night and you agreed to milk the goats for us? To me that was an amazing act of love, because I remember when we first brought the goats home—to your house. We backed the truck into the driveway and you came outside. You looked at the goats and quietly growled only two words: “Good Hell!” You turned around and went back inside and Larry looked at me and said, “I forgot to tell you—my dad hates goats!” But that didn’t matter because he knew his dad loved him! We owe much to you, Dad.

The last time we really talked, at the cemetery in 2002, I know you were there with me, listened to every word, saw every tear. I know you’ve continued to do what I asked you to and that knowledge has given me peace and comfort. I’ll be seeing Mother soon and I’ll come see you again too. You’ve always been there for us and there’s no way to ever thank you for that except to follow your example. I guess that’s what the gospel is isn’t it? It’s all about families. Well, this is a long letter and I know you have a lot of work to do, so I'll close. Until next time then…. ‘Sis’ XO

Sunday Feelings

This morning in sacrament meeting I realized that today is the last fast Sunday of 2006; I wanted to stand today and express my gratitude for the blessings of this past year, but so did many others. The time ran out before I could get up, in fact, the meeting went over because of so many, but it was good. Occasionally during fast and testimony meeting, I remember a friend of mine who once said that she often procrastinates the formal bearing of her testimony because she's waiting for something profound to say. Finally, she realized that there is nothing more profound than something as real and simple as the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

The more I learn, the more I realize how much I don’t know, and how much more I want to know. But in the spaces between, when I’m unsure, or lonely, or frustrated, I take a step back and rediscover the fundamentals; those are what I return to and hold on to, what sustain me when I’ve taken a wrong turn, and strenghthen me when I'm on the right path for me.

The world was not created on a dare. I know Jesus Christ lives, that he knows each of us by name, that he and our Father in Heaven love us beyond our ability to comprehend. I’m especially grateful for the principle of repentance, which allows us to change, to become more of our real selves, to rise to the essence of who we truly are; I’m grateful for the principle of forgiveness, which frees our souls of the burdens of resentment toward others, including self-recrimination for foolish choices; and that of faith, which reminds me that there is a God and I’m not it, nor am I expected to have all the answers. I’m also profoundly thankful for the knowledge of life after death, one that I know from having had many experiences with those who have passed on. I’m grateful for God’s “tender mercies” that allow me to feel his love for me through others. These are the things I hold on to when everything else is confusion, drudgery or darkness. What else is there? What does any of this life matter if there isn’t a life beyond? if family relationships don’t endure beyond the grave? if we can’t be with those we love and those who love us? My family means everything to me: my children including Austin, my beautiful grandsons, Larry Dayley, my dear in-laws, my sisters and brothers, their spouses, my parents, my amazing nieces and nephews on both sides—how I love each of you! Thank you for the things you’ve taught me, for your examples, your ethics, your tender hearts. Because of you, I can do this.