What Is A Family?

I just finished reading the latest update on Nie-Nie who has , with her husband, survived a horrifying plane crash. You may be familiar with her story. Nie-Nie's tale, shared by one of her sisters, teaches of remarkable strength, of faith, of prayers, and especially, of family.

A family isn't just an assembly of husbands and wives, children, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, grandparents and cousins. My family is made up of all the people with whom I share my laughter and smiles.... my tears and sorrows.... my best secrets.... my deepest wishes.... my silliest jokes....my days....my nights.... me.....

My Life + My Love = My Family

Sometimes....You Have To Choose

Over the past several weeks, I have been mulling over what I believe - what I really, truly and mostly unwaveringly hold to - and why I adhere to these axioms.

For almost a year, my cousin kept a blog through which the reader was allowed to accompany her on a personal journey. Simple paragraphs described anguish and heartache. More powerfully, words also danced together to form sentences that expressed exhilarating happiness. I think reading this poetry of the last 10 or 11 months has steeped my faith in what I regard as truth.

Sometimes, the sky is full of sunrises and rainbows, the air is scented with roses and lilacs and soft rain. I've twirled along, filling my arms with bouquets of roses and lilacs and hummed favourite melodies, often aware of and appreciating- and occasionally oblivious to - my golden fortune. Sometimes, the sky darkens, flashes of lightening blind my eyes, crashes of thunder drown out the tune I was singing only moments before. Flowers are trampled over. My heart might be broken and my spirit crushed.

Some might think that fortunate is the person on whom fate never rains, but is this really so? When thick fog makes my course difficult to navigate, I've learned that instead of wandering a delicately paved path in a pretty garden, a sure crosscut can still be formed amidst loose pebbles and wilting blossoms.

I guess what I'm saying is that sometimes, life isn't so pretty. Sometimes my main course is a little under- or over-cooked, or I'm handed an entree that I didn't order, but I can't send it back to the kitchen. Or sometimes, I get just what I wanted, but it doesn't seem as good as I thought it would be. Sometimes, the steak on the other table or the desert passing by on the cart looks much tastier than what I've decided on. And the sounds of contentment from satisfied patrons around me makes me wonder if they all know something I don't. Do they have a different menu than mine? Did someone suggest what they should order before they came into the restaurant? Are their palates more sophisticated than mine? Am I the only one whose meal isn't right?

I know I am not alone in recurrently feeling the pull of two powerful, yet opposing crosscurrents. Usually, when we are floating on placid waters, we feel no compunction about evaluating our beliefs. It seems that in my life (and most others') it is when the waters begin to get choppy and splash over the side of the boat that I frantically look around me for the nearest point of land. But is that outcropping where I really want to go? Or is it better to plot a course and fight the storm? There are maps to consult and instructions from more experienced sailors that can be recalled that will surely help me in determining my way. A choice must be made, even if it's simply to do nothing but hold on tightly and let the winds take me where they may. Sometimes, I may be sailing solo and must independently make decisions. Sometimes, I may have others with me who will help hold the rigging and steer the ship the direction we together choose.

Ultimately, the choice is to either believe what I've always believed, or I can believe something else. I choose to believe what I've always believed. And that is that I do have a Father in heaven who loves me. He does have a plan for me, and for my family. I believe that Heavenly Father's Plan of Happiness is for everyone and its precepts can be found in the doctrinal teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Sometimes, my path will be clearly marked with rainbows and glorious vistas. Sometimes, He will let me cry when I've tripped before He picks me up and tends my scraped knee. Sometimes, in the stark face of the what I see around me, those simple tenets may not make so much sense. And sometimes, the alternatives to my beliefs may be more vibrant than my own faded petals set in a vase.

Sometimes, the symphony's music coming out of the concert hall does seem more enchanting than the quartet on the lawn I chose instead. And more than sometimes, after I make my choice to hold to my presuppositions, I wait for a sense of peace to come, whispering softly in my ear that I've made the right choice. And sometimes I keep waiting. And I wait still more. Sometimes, my hope may begin to waiver, I may even doubt that peace will come. But I hang on anyway, because I've chosen this path. Because in my heart of hearts, I believe that the teachings of Jesus Christ about a benevolent Father in Heaven, who knows far better that I do that joys and sorrows will meld me into a better wife, mother, sister, daughter and friend- if I trust in and follow God's guidance - are true. I hold dear to these beliefs even when the alternatives might appear a little more gratifying, or just more palatable. And I hope for encapsulating peace that answers, to me, that my beliefs are not in vain.

My searching soul is answered in soft whispers I must listen quietly for and gentle hugs I must sit still enough to feel. Is my hope rewarded? Yes. Even when I am too distracted to recognize that winter is slowly giving way to spring. I found this wisdom on my cousin's blog, and I want to share it with you:

".... I think peace is often like love - it sneaks in when we are not looking, not waiting for it and makes itself at home....and then one day, when things are quiet, you will realize with a smile that it's already there." A wise woman named Annie left this comment and you all know I am partial to the erudite observations of Annies.)

Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World

I was thinking about this passage from a book titled "Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World" by Japanese author Haruki Murakami. I really enjoy his books, although they're pretty bizarre at times and let's just say the content isn't always appropriate. But if the second counselor can quote Michael Jackson lyrics during a talk in church, I can certainly recommend books with sometimes questionable passages, no?

Anyway, this utterly maddening passage is a fairly accurate prototype of the logic process of Japanese people (or perhaps the incomprehensible world of the Missionary Training Center). Given my personality, why I still like all things Japanese and how I survived the MTC are mysteries.

In the book, two people had just escaped an underground lair into a Tokyo subway tunnel when the following transpires:

Stepping out from behind a pillar, we mounted the ladder at the end of the platform, nonchalant and disinterested, as if we did this sort of thing every day. We stepped around the railing. Several people looked our way, visibly alarmed. We were covered with mud, clothes drenched, hair matted, eyes squinting at the ordinary light—I guess we didn’t look like subway employees. Who the hell were we?

Before they’d reached any conclusions, we’d sauntered past and were already at the wicket. That’s when it occurred to me, we didn’t have tickets.

“We’ll say we lost them and pay the fare,” she said.

So that’s what I told the young attendant at the gate.

“Did you look carefully?” he asked. “You have lots of pockets. Could you please check again?”

We stood there dripping and filthy and searched our clothes for tickets that had never been there, while the attendant eyed us incredulously.

No, it seemed we’d really lost them, I said.

“Where did you get on?”

“Shibuya.”

“How much did you pay?”

“A hundred twenty, hundred forty yen, something like that.”

“You don’t remember?”

“I was thinking about other things.”

“Honestly, you got on at Shibuya?”

“The line starts from Shibuya, doesn’t it? How could we cheat on the fare?”

“You could have come through the underpass from the opposite platform. The Ginza Line’s pretty long. For all I know, you could have caught the Tozai Line all the way from Tsudanuma and transferred at Nihonbashi.”

“Tsudanuma?”

“Strictly hypothetical,” said the station attendant.

“So how much is it from Tsudanuma? I’ll pay that. Will that make you happy?”

“Did you come from Tsudanuma?”

“No,” I said. “Never been to Tsudanuma in my life.”

“Then why pay the fare?”

“I’m just doing what you said.”

“I said that was strictly hypothetical.”

By now, the next train had arrived. Twelve passengers got off and passed through the wicket. We watched them. Not one of them had lost a ticket. Whereupon we resumed negotiations with the attendant.

“Okay, tell me from where do I have to pay?” I said.

“From where you got on,” he insisted.

“Shibuya, like I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“But you don’t remember the fare.”

“Who remembers fares? Do you remember how much coffee costs at McDonald’s?”

“I don’t drink McDonald’s coffee,” said the station attendant. “It’s a waste of money.”

“Purely hypothetical,” I said. “But you forget details like that.”

“That may be, but people who say they’ve lost tickets always plead cheaper fares. They all come over to this platform and say they got on in Shibuya.”

“I already said I’d pay whatever fare you want, didn’t I? Just tell me how much.”

“How should I know?”

I threw down a thousand-yen bill and we marched out. The attendant yelled at us, but we pretended not to hear.

Something I've Learned....

I've learned that if you chew wintergreen gum, while you're taking your morning constitutional, and upon returning inside the house decide to swallow a few gulps of water, the insides of your mouth might hurt. Significantly.

A Couple Good Articles

I thought this was a cool story.

Carl Clifton Booth: The Good Shepherd of West Dallas

And here's another one from the other day.

Utahns help orphans in Romania

Pan-kun

This is in Japanese, but you'll get the idea. It's amazing the things Curious George can learn to do. Even if you don't think it's funny, your kids will.

Pictures for Mommy

From your girls who miss you - especially Child Number 2.




Updated:

Here's our little princess back home after dropping Mommy off at the airport. The TSA guy lunging in front of Annie to keep her from charging the gate area was pretty classic - he must have gotten a tip from Annie's kindergarten teacher about the violence she can wreak.

I guess the trauma of leaving me alone with the dog this summer wasn't enough...

A random picture of Mommy pulled off this blog was about the only solace I could offer Annie. And Curious George helped out too.



On a serious note for a moment - Allison's off to Canada via Utah to attend the funeral of her cousin Coralee's husband, Cam Williams, who died Thursday after a courageous two-year battle with Leukemia. Please consider joining Allison and me in registering for the National Marrow Registry Program and donating to cancer support programs.

EEEK!!!!

AAAAHHHH! Yes, that's me shrieking. I retrieved the dreaded note from Emi's backpack yesterday after school. It's the yucky note that begins, "There have been a few cases of head lice found in your child's classroom...." Ooh, my scalp feels itchy and tingly just typing these words! So if the worst-case scenario materializes (or evolves or whatever it is little lice do) I'll be giving my friend Miss L a call. It's good to have a kindred spirit.

Red Dye #40. And Tada Shimai.

Have you heard the speculation regarding red dye #40 and behaviour in children? (Go ahead and google it.) Every so often, I hear (or read) its evils pronounced, but honestly, I haven't really thought too much about it. So the other day, when Ryan said,"We should look into this red dye #40 stuff. Maybe there's something to it," I was a little surprised.

You see, Ryan is all about anti-hype. Should someone suggest seeing a much-raved about movie or trying a great new restaurant, Ryan can be somewhat.... disdainful. (Unless I ask him, of course, to consider something different. Then he naturally acquiesces. Ha-ha.) If something (or someone, or somewhere, etc.) has any popularity attached to it, Ryan hasn't much interest in it. Should he express an opinion, it is usually contrary to any media frenzy. Let's put a positive spin on this: Ryan will form an opinion based on his own conclusions. He will not be falsely swayed due to popular conception.

....In fact, that reminds me of this missionary companion I had. There's this LDS Japanese musician who was quite popular 10-15 years ago. Irie Kyodai (or Brother Irie) was like Afterglow. Except he was a solo act. And a lot of single female church members thought he was it. His name was gushed like he was the the holy grail of single LDS women in Japan. Except Tada Shimai, my companion, didn't agree. She actually knew him personally (they were in the same ward or stake in Osaka.) So one day I asked her, "Why don't you like this guy?" And her answer was, "Ninki ga aru." Translation: he's popular. And that was pretty much the only reason why she didn't like him. Oh, Tada Shimai - what a hoot! When I transferred into the city, she had already been there about 7 months. Our first evening out together, while riding our bikes back to our apartment, she stopped at an intersection and asked, "Where are we? I don't know how to get back to the apartment." (Did I mention that we had been out to see people she had visited countless times?) Seriously, she had no clue how to get back. Turns out we were only a few blocks away. After that, she informed me, "You have to know where we're going and how to get back because I'm not very good at that." You think so? Oh, I miss that girl. I can almost hear her high-pitched voice singing, "....I shot the sheriff, but I didn't shoot the deputy...." -- that was her theme song while riding our bikes around. Boy, I could reminisce for hours about Michiru, laughing with tears rolling down my cheeks. We all know people who are just so, I don't know, entertaining. And they don't mean to be, which makes them all the more endearing.

Wait, what was I blogging about before I jumped on the train rumbling down memory lane? Oh, right, Ryan's detachment to anything the media likes and red dye #40. Um, I'll get back to you on what we decide about red dye #40 and our diet. But first, I have to track down someone....

Melting Frost

I have a wonderful cousin who exemplifies grace, faith, and complete humility. Within these last several years, the image in my mind of a gangly, red-headed kid has been replaced by the reflection of a woman of incredible strength and courage. You see, this cousin has been watching her husband of 13 years battle Leukemia. Ups and downs, whether on a smooth track or an old rickety rail, all come to end. Even when you're not ready for the ride to stop.

How do you watch your best friend, the person you have chosen to spend every single day with, the one with whom you laugh and cry, the father of your beautiful children, your sweetheart, fight each day a battle that he's no longer winning? I guess the real question is, how do you do this without losing hope in everything around you? My cousin knows.

Tonight I read her latest post on this difficult journey of hers and it again hit me how great my cousin is and I am so proud of her!

"With Thanksgiving being upon us, I have been reflecting a lot lately on the things I am thankful for. My list could go on and on, but I would like to share 10 things with you.

1. My knowledge of God's plan of happiness and that families are eternal.

2. My husband and his unconquerable spirit.

3. My three amazing and spunky kids.

4. My parents' help and example.

5. Cam's family and their selfless service to us.

6. My health.

7. The amazing community in which I live, including so many people who love and care for us.

8. Our CML friends world wide.

9. My close personal friends who I lean on often for support.

10. The beautiful surroundings that I am so fortunate to see each day as I look out my window.

These are just a few of the things I have been pondering lately. No matter how cold the winter of our lives becomes, I am learning that thinking of our many blessings melts much of the frost. I hope you take some time this weekend to think of the good things in your life and see God's hand in them."

In particular, this thought deeply touched me: "No matter how cold the winter of our lives becomes, I am learning that thinking of our many blessings melts much of the frost."

It's Canadian Thanksgiving tomorrow, and in honor of my heritage, I just want to express how thankful I am for a skinny little girl with a smattering of freckles who grew up to be one of the most valorous women I know. Thanks Cor, for you.

Come unto Me

I came across this excerpt today from a talk by Elder Holland:

On the example of the Savior himself and his call to his apostles, and with the need for peace and comfort ringing in our ears, I ask you to be a healer, be a helper, be someone who joins in the work of Christ in lifting burdens, in making the load lighter, in making things better. Isn't that the phrase we used to use as children when we had a bump or a bruise? Didn't we say to Mom or Dad, "Make it better." Well, lots of people on your right hand and on your left are carrying bumps and bruises that they hope will be healed and made whole. Someone sitting within reasonable proximity to you tonight is carrying a spiritual or physical or emotional burden of some sort or some other affliction drawn from life's catalog of a thousand kinds of sorrow. In the spirit of Christ's first invitation to Philip and Andrew and then to Peter and the whole of his twelve apostles, jump into this work. Help people. Heal old wounds and try to make things better.

Come unto Me - Jeffrey R. Holland

Detention....Again!

Yes, friends, Annie had detention again. *Sigh* This time it was the real stay-after-school-for-30-minutes-cry-for-mom-and-think-about-why-you're-here-in-the-vice-principal's-office-detention.

(This isn't Annie's drawing and no, she didn't hit anyone on the head with a fridge, but that may be because she's only 5. *chuckle - chuckle*)

I went to pick her up after her sentence was filled, and did those red-rimmed eyes light up! But see, that was the whole point. Her team (and yes, they are a team: kindergarten teacher, aide, special ed. teacher, and vice-principal) and I decided it was time to do something a bit more drastic - and after-school detention for punching her aide (among other infractions) seemed to fit the crime. Annie is my little shadow, so to be separated from me any longer than she has to is worse than water-boarding her, I think. Hopefully, the threat of detention, in the future, will cause her to think twice about her actions. (Okay - this is Annie we're talking about - the sweetest little munchkin with a mere smidgen of self-control and a temper to match.)

Anyway, when I went to pick Annie up, she showed me some pictures she drew (with assistance) depicting her poor behaviour and on the other side of the sheet (with aid, again) how she can make better decisions. And then she got to hang her picture in the vice-principal's office. And here's the great thing: Annie, my girly-girl (dresses, bows, pink, her sparkly tinkerbell make-up, bling, dolls...), has the dubious honor of being the first little girl to hang a picture drawn under duress on those hallowed walls. I tell you, sometimes I don't know whether to laugh or cry!

The State of the Nation & Britney Spears

Does our country's economic condition confuse you? Are you scared by media reports of a crashing world economy? I don't know about you, but sometimes just the headlines alone are enough to make me want to burrow under my covers and stay there until the Dow once again reaches 14,164. Or even 10,000. But all my fears and confusion are ridiculously exaggerated. Here's why.

We just need to remember that Britney Is Back!

Curious Kid

I love having a curious kid.

As part of my dryer adventure this week, I had an electrical test meter out. I thought Emi might like to learn about it so I showed it to her. Initially she recoiled, thinking it was dangerous. But then the adventure started.

We then spent 30 minutes wandering through the house testing electrical conductivity of various materials. We tested a graham cracker, a cheese sandwich, a stainless steel fork, painted metal surfaces, a can of tomato soup, the kitchen counter-top, the trash compactor, copper wire, gold and platinum wedding bands - you get the idea. (We couldn't find a potato, which actually gives off a small amount of voltage through a chemical reaction - this idea really fascinated her.)

In the process of exploring, Emi learned about how a light switch works by testing one in the on vs. off positions (don't worry - it wasn't powered). We also stumbled upon an old disassembled computer hard drive on my work bench - a minute's worth of explanation and the kid understood it. Back to electrical conductivity, we tested a drinking glass - no conductivity. So we filled it with water and tested the water - she'll never again question why the swimming pool life guards evacuate the pool when lighting has been spotted.

Along the way, Emi said she wishes there were no such things as dangerous things. But I explained that dangerous things are powerful things and powerful things are good things, as long as they're used carefully and properly. I think there might be a life lesson or two here.

Anyway, it was a pretty random 30 minutes, but we both enjoyed it and she might have something to contribute to science class now that she wouldn't have otherwise. And I can't help but be impressed with and very grateful for a child as curious and random as I am.

Sleeping Beauties

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Well, here are two-thousand for you!

Daily Miracles

Each day is full of miracles. Most just pass by unnoticed. Not that the recipient is necessarily at fault - some miracles, maybe most, are inconspicuous. But Heavenly Father watches out for us. And vain repetitions offered in prayer, like ".... and please protect us and keep us safe and please bless our home...." are still heard. This I know, because of a broken dryer. With a completely burned through electrical wire - this means there was a flame! And we had no idea until Ryan looked at the dryer a few days after it went kaput. Our house, especially the laundry room, is none the worse for wear. I'm thankful for miracles, especially the ones I'm oblivious to.

Speechless

Probably not news to any of you.

Interestingly, this will put temples in the birth places of Allison, me, Emi, Annie and toss in both sets of parents/grandparents. (Calgary, AB, Salt Lake City, Provo, Kansas City, Los Angeles, Kansas City (again), Cardston, AB and London. Allison, did I get those right?)

Update: The Kansas City Star has posted an AP article on the temple announcement. Looking at the comments there are some unflattering portrayals of the church, but I hope we'll all respond graciously as we're put under the local microscope. This is only the beginning of what will be a raucous ride over the next couple years.

Update II: ‹rant›This is also a great opportunity for us to brush up on what are really doctrines of our church and what are the traditions of our LDS fathers. Much of what we say and do and collectively believe really is based on tradition, incomplete statements, undeveloped context for ideas and sometimes misinformation. The explicitly stated doctrines of the Church, to me, seem relatively few and simple. On the other hand, no other religion I've heard of offers such expansive possibilities and liberality in thinking as does the theology of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We just need to keep these two ideas each in their proper context and communicate accordingly. This is a pet topic of mine - sorry for the rant.‹/rant›

Did My Previous Post Confuse You?

If you left your computer feeling slightly puzzled, upon reading my previous post, you're not the only one. Ryan, who knew what I was talking about, advised me that others may not follow quite so easily. (Actually, I had wondered about that myself.)

Okay, the title, "R" as in Lome, "L" as in Rondon, is reference to a joke about japanese pronunciation of certain sounds. Funny to me and Ryan. Maybe only to us. And here are two clues that might help Annie's wit make more sense: (1) underwear is also called panties, and (2) Annie likes to remind me that my name starts with the same letter as hers.

"R" as in Lome, "L"as on Rondon

Annie is doing remarkably well at learning letters. Kindergarten may not have all the answers for some of her social and behavioral issues, but academically, she's already doing better than I expected. Annie can actually spell her own name (verbally only - I think that writing letters is still a long way off)! Sometimes she recites her name with only one "n," but that still sends a thrill through me.

So lately, Annie likes telling us the sounds letters make, for instance, "m goes mah, mah, mah." And Annie will often pick out a word or object and tell us what sound it begins with, like "book starts with bah, bah, bah." But Annie is quite wry, as evidenced by these two things she told us: "Underwear! Underwear starts with pah, pah, pah!" and "A. A is for mom!"