Living and Surviving

I know it seems like every other blog post these days is about my great grandma and the ones that aren't are about whatever crisis I'm currently going through with some clever anecdote about my nieces but I must slip into the routine again. Each time I visit Grandma I have something to say and today I'm going to say it again-

Grandma was doing very well when I went by today. She seemed very chipper and I loved our conversation just like always. After telling me once again that Hillary was "a wicked wicked woman" and that "she says that she has 35 years of experience and I agree; 35 years experience of doing bad bad things!" we talked a bit about her health. She told me that her children have told her not to go walking in the mornings anymore because they don't want her to fall so she's worked out some kind of exercise routine in her house where she gets on the floor and does "all kinds of maneuvers with the door open for fresh air." I'm sure that part of the reason she has lived such a quality life for more than a century is because of how determined she is to stay active. Several months ago my mom was helping her get her seat belt on in the car and Grandma took it from her and said quite bluntly "I can do things for myself. If I give up, it's over for me." I'm sure she wasn't talking about any kind of fear of death because anyone who meets this woman gets a genuine sense that few in this world are as prepared to "make the big trip" as my grandpa puts it. No, she certainly isn't afraid of dying and would probably like to be reunited with her husband whom she hasn't seen for more than half a century but in her centennial wisdom she has come to recognize the difference between living and surviving- and even at 100 years, grandma is intent on living.

Grandma told me that my second cousin has been called as the new mission president over the mission I served in (Ukraine, Kyiv) and I got to go by again tonight to talk to him about it. We talked about the people there and he asked me if missionaries were simply obedient or if they were the type that make miracles occur. I thought about that and then told him that I wasn't sure how the miracles happen but all you have to do is meet the members of the church in Ukraine to be absolutely positive that that country has had its fair share of miracles. I guess the topic was on my mind after I had just had a nice long talk with my mom over the phone this afternoon and she mentioned that while we were in Ukraine she saw such an incredible illuminating brightness among the members she met. And it's true that no matter how little some of those members have, there is something about them that reminds anyone who meets them that life can be full of happiness regardless of circumstance. The happiest person I've ever met is also the poorest person I've ever known. She lives in a small village hours away from Kyiv. She's raising three girls by herself thanks to her husband who drank himself to death in front of the children several years ago. She relies on the meager crop she gets each summer from their tiny plot of land to feed her children. The family layers their clothes in their tiny one bedroom home each winter because there is no heat. And she is the happiest person I know. She tries to give you everything she has (which is almost nothing) and you feel bad turning it down because you know that taking it only makes her happier. Her family loves one another and their walls are covered with pictures of the Savior and of temples and a conversation rarely happens with her where she doesn't mention how badly she wants to go to the temple with her girls. But until that day she'll just keep making the 45 minute bus ride to church as often as she can afford and continue on teaching her children by setting an example of how a person really should be.

Those kind of people inspire and influence me so much more than so many others that have made a point to gain all the power, money and prestige this life can offer for the sole purpose of inspiring and influencing. I want to be like the kind of people I've described. I'm not suggesting that we commit ourselves to completely ascetic lifestyles, depriving ourselves of anything that has potential to distract, but would it be too much amid all the blessings and opportunities in my life to make the effort to also be happy and grateful, faithful and humble? Then no matter how bad I perceive things to be going in my life, I'll always see the difference in and be on the right side of the two fates: living and surviving.

10 Moments

Every once in a while you hit an exact moment where you realize that everything you see beyond that moment will always look different to you than before that moment and it's all because of that moment. I'm not talking about long drawn out life changing experiences- those certainly force you to view the world a completely different way. I'm talking about just small and quick exchanges that for whatever reason permanently shed light on life. I present 10 of mine:

1. As a 7 year old at a Jazz game I threw a piece of popcorn in my mouth that was all by itself only to find that it was actually an already chewed blue piece of gum with soggy popcorn crusties all stuck to the outside. I've never thought it was ok to eat food unless I knew exactly where it came from since then.

2. When I was 16, my high school coach told me that there was no sense in doing anything unless I was intent on becoming the best at it. I've never looked at challenges, goals or tasks the same since then.

3. My high school English teacher once said that whenever she thought something nice about someone else, she immediately tried to tell them, believing that an entire lifetime of compliments that wouldn't have been given without such a goal would leave the world in a much better place. I believe that very few days have gone by since then that I haven't thought about what she said.

4. I used to be deathly afraid of tile (don't ask, I have no idea why). I remember scrubbing my foot as a child over and over again because it accidentally brushed against a tile floor at home (this was a clean tile floor by the way). About two years ago I told myself that it was completely irrational to be afraid of tile and I forced myself to go stand on the bathroom floor barefoot for one whole minute. I'm no longer afraid of tile and I also feel like I can overcome any fear now (except maybe for snakes).

5. Last summer I met Blaine and Diana and at the end of our first visit Diana asked me to tell 7 year old Joseph that he had a family now that loved him and would never let him get hurt again. After I told him, Joseph immediately walked over to her and put his arms around her and I watched them sob and hug. I don't look at people the same way anymore.

6. In December, while on the phone back and forth with Krishelle and Uncle Will, I spontaneously decided to drop everything and fly to Costa Rica first thing in the morning. Making that decision is funny to talk about but it actually opened up the idea in my mind for the very first time that I actually have absolute control of my life and I can make things happen if I really want them to.

7. When I was nine my mom was dropping me off at school one morning and I started making fun of the crossing guard as we drove past her. I remember my mom saying, "I don't think anyone deserves to be talked about that way." And it was as if it didn't occur to me until that moment that this crossing guard was an actual real person. I think I've been a lot more sensitive toward other people since then because of that moment.

8. One month before the end of my mission I was punched several times and kicked, while lying on the ground half-conscious, by a group of seven or eight angry men. I finally stood up and walked through the group and got away as if they could no longer see me. Nothing has really scared me that badly in terms of being in personal danger ever since.

9. When I was about 10 I was home with Micalyne for a little bit and a bad storm came in. I got scared and said a prayer that my mom would call us. She called within seconds of me finishing the prayer. Prayer has felt so much more powerful and real to me since then.

10. After recently finding out that a friend had unexpectedly passed away I thought about how much I wished I would have spoken to her again before she had died. But I had let myself get so busy that I neglected someone. Nothing seems important enough to me now to ignore friends.

President's Day

I should have gone to bed about 35 minutes ago but I just ate some cheesecake and I've been deep cleaning the house for an hour and a half and now I'm a bit wired.

President's Day was good. It's one of those bank holidays that mean I get the day off although the holiday is not exactly soaked in elaborate cultural tradition. I apologize formally to the presidents whom I did not celebrate or think much about today. It's not that I'm not grateful for good leaders, I just simply did not celebrate United States' presidents. If I was going to I would probably focus my efforts on presidents like Abraham Lincoln or GW himself but I get the sense that they really don't care much if people celebrate any days on their behalf.

No, I instead celebrated being able to see my family on a Monday, a day that I rarely get to see them. I guess you could say that in a way I did celebrate the sacrifices that great leaders have made which have enabled me to spend time with my family. Bit of a stretch but I make it work.

Saw the adorable nieces and nephew. Everytime I see them they get so much more amazingly cute . . . and full of energy. I guess a few weeks ago, four year old Kaylee asked Krisanda if they could have "girl talk." When Krisanda asked her what she wanted to talk about she said, "um, about people that are dead." Krisanda asked Kaylee who she knew who had died and Kaylee responded as if her mother had missed a major news flash, "Well that grandpa on tv that lives at the temple." So they talked about that grandpa that lives at the temple and Krisanda explained who prophets are and Kaylee said that she was happy that the prophet could go live with her brother Jesus now. And somehow the purity of these kids never really stops amazing me.

Sorry for the disconected thoughts tonight. It's almost 1:00AM and I've really got to go to bed. Love you all.

President Hinckley, Grandma and Mitt

I should be doing my homework (yes, although it doesn't seem to be the case, I actually am taking one class right now). But I kind of just feel like blogging. Maybe it's because the alternative is studying financial management which is tragically a constant reminder of my accounting days. Maybe it's because I just watched the republican party let the best candidate they've seen in maybe a hundred years slip right through their fingers. I just feel like blogging.
 

I visited Great Grandma Whittle the other day. She's doing well and despite her telling me over the phone that she had a cold, she seemed about as healthy as I've ever seen her when I went by even for someone who will turn 101 years in just a few months. I did make sure she had Vics to put on her feet though. I told her I would shovel her driveway but failed miserably when I realized that there was about a foot of solid ice under the light layer of powder. I did my best (aka sort of tried) for about 15 minutes but finally gave up and went inside doing whatever I could to prevent Grandma from trying to investigate my work as I'm positive it would not be up to her standards.
 

We talked about politics for a while, the conversation being sprung by my mention of her giant poster in her front window with only two bolded words: "STOP HILLARY!" When asking her about this she said as if a vote for Hillary would betray everything she's ever tried to stand for, "If anyone votes for Hillary in THIS family, they'll be hearing from me!" She then told me while dramatically looking out the window, as if she was symbolically watching the world's demise, "I pray every day that the Lord won't curse this land with another Clinton." So by the time she asked me who I supported through guarded expressions, I was very relieved that I feel the same way about the Clintons as she does; and I was even more relieved at her reaction when I told her I was a staunch Mitt Romney supporter and she inducted me back into the family.
 

After the political talk we turned on the news to catch some highlights of the press conference with the new first presidency and I realized that even though the world chooses some terrible leaders, as long as God has a hand in things, we'll always still have some great ones. One of His great ones died a week and a half ago and for those of us who admired him, there will always be a part of us that misses him because of his incredible example of how a person should be in a world that is far from the way it should be. But Heavenly Father has blessed us again with a prophet and for that I am so thankful because even though we sometimes make some terrible mistakes and often disregard good people and the morals they stand on, He still loves us enough continue to put those kind of people on our paths to further go about saving the world one good choice and one good example at a time. And while we may not all agree on who is best to politically lead this country, those of us who understand the divine goodness in these people don't have to worry about whether supporting them or not is making some kind of mistake. Still, a week and a half later I can't help but wonder about a world that floods the news with reports of people making terrible choices and contributing nothing positive to the world, stars behaving badly if you must put a name to some of them, but then only in passing mention some of the lives of some of the greatest people this world has ever known- Gordon B Hinckley to name just one example. I guess I'm just old fashioned like that.

The People I Know

I've just sat down to write because it feels like it's time to write again. I don't really have any story in particular to relate or any funny antidote to tell. I don't have any specific spiritually uplifting moment that I have the stamina or time to detail in this blog tonight; it just feels like it's time to blog again. Maybe it's because I get some kind of therapeutic fulfillment every time I do- and somehow I've come to recognize that. It may also have something to do with the unexplainable rush I get each time I see a new comment posted from one of my few but faithful blog followers. Either way, I've just written a good sized paragraph with nothing really to say.

There really is some sort of fulfillment that we get just by being noticed. Whether or not I get comments on what I post, I'm going to feel just fine about myself. But recognition, even in the most inconsequential forms, does something to people. It makes you feel alive. I get that sensation each time I feel my phone vibrate, every time I see that I have several new emails (most of which turn out to be information on law schools or forwards from friends that promise me a miracle if I only send it out to at least twenty people), and I feel it every time I hear my name called out when I'm spotted by a friend.

If I'm not alone in enjoying these minor occurrences of recognition, then I have the opportunity every day to make the people around me feel good, simply by recognizing them, subtly reminding them that I do appreciate knowing them because the people I know just happen to be pretty fantastic. In this blog world these people include Jodi who I could sit with and talk to for hours without ever getting bored. Or Laura who I remember meeting at the old white institute building five years ago when she was there practising the piano one day and I've admired both her and her husband ever since. Or Heather Twistysocks who makes me want to be a better person every day just because I know her and see how good a person can be. Or Nancy who I could laugh with all day over one joke told over and over again. Or Alyssa who I think I'm able to relate to on so many levels, and yet still find myself wanting so many of the qualities she possesses. Or Krishelle who I communicate with just about every waking second of the day because I start to have panic attacks if I don't hear from her for about 10 minutes. Or my parents who I respect more than anyone that I've ever met and who I can wait to see every time I go home. Or Lynn who has a contagious optimism about her that still affects me although I haven't seen her for more than six months. Or Andrea who has been a consistently good friend to me for so long (and who brought me "Red, White, and Blaine"). Or Jacob who makes me feel like a million dollars because he laughs hysterically and sincerely at every joke I make. And there are so many more people I could note here but it's almost 2:00AM and I've got to go to bed.

I know some great people.

Funny Kids

I sure love these kids . . . they sure require a lot of energy.

I found out that my sister Krisanda needed someone to watch her three kids on Saturday morning for about six hours and I volunteered thinking it would be pretty fun. I hoped the kids would all be asleep for about half of it but they were already up and active by the time I arrived at 7:30AM. Following is a schedule of my next six hours.

7:30-8:00 JJ rolled around yelling out nonsense while Kaylee and Kamree sang every primary song they've ever heard at the top of their lungs.

8:00-8:30 We ate breakfast (half of it ended up on the floor).

About 8:31 Kaylee tells me that she is going to help me "because you're new and you don't really know where stuff is."

8:31-8:45 The girls get dressed and not quite yet potty-trained Kamree insists on wearing her Care Bear underwear instead of diapers (my obliging was the 2nd biggest mistake of the day).
8:45-9:15 I fix the girls hair while they do mine (which was nothing more than running a brush roughly over the top of my head over and over until my scalp was raw.

9:16 I ask four year old Kaylee what these two kids were doing (referring to her younger brother and sister who were running around the room screaming) to which she responds quite dramatically, "they're not kids! (pause) They're family!"

9:17-9:40 Kaylee and I play Shoots and Ladders while Kamree and JJ effectively scatter the contents of Candy Land across the room.

9:40 Kaylee starts begging me to put on "Baby Mozart" which is a video for babies.

9:40-10:00 I make several phone calls to try to figure out how the heck to use the VCR.

10:00-10:15 "Baby Mozart." And JJ begins his nap.


10:15-10:30 Kaylee and Kamree pull out every dvd in the house and throw them on the floor, finally deciding to replace "Baby Mozart" with Walt Disney's "Cinderella."

10:30-10:42 Kaylee asks if we can replace "Cinderella" with "Cinderella III" which I didn't believe existed until Kaylee pulled it out.

10:43-11:30 "Cinderella III" begins and turns out to be about as good as it sounds.

11:30 JJ wakes up from his nap.

11:30-12:00 I determine by the smell that JJ needs a diaper change which Kaylee, who had been so helpful all day so far, immediately said in anticipation to my question, "I don't change diapers." She did however get them for me, as well as wet wipes which tragically and shockingly turned out to be completely dry when I reached for them during the traumatic experience while literally gagging and screaming "I can't finish! I can't finish!" Kaylee did try to help me by holding JJ's baby blanket up to my nose but eventually bailed as soon as the diaper was opened. Right in the middle of the worst part Kamree started to say like a broken record "I need go potty. I need go potty." I told Kamree to wait a minute (this was the biggest mistake of the day). It turns out that waiting a minute was not an option and the couch that Kamree had been sitting on turned out to be the victim in the situation. Due to the chaos of the diaper changing experience, "Cinderella III" had somehow gone back to the beginning.

12:00-1:00 At the objections of a four and three year old I am not allowed to forward the film to where we left off and we are forced to watch it again.

1:00-1:20 Kamree and JJ take every ornament off the Christmas tree that they can reach and create piles that they end up launching at each other pretty aggressively until I put a stop to it.

1:20-1:30 We argue about what to cook for lunch until Jeff comes home to relieve me.

Again, I love those kids. I hope to never change a diaper like that again.

Turtlenog!

The second annual Moby Dick Turtlenog party was a complete success. After months of stressing and a long week of cleaning and setting up, it all came together about ten minutes after it was supposed to start on Saturday night. The turnout was great, including a nice cameo of a few family members who immediately said after walking in "it looks like mom in here" (referring to the decorations; I am my mother's son).

The party went through about twelve cartons of eggnog and other than my fire hazards strategically placed all over the house in the form of candles on plates filled with dry pine needles (I went around Provo yesterday afternoon chopping branches off trees in public parks. The police will get me later) we were all safe.


There were no fires, other than the one in the fireplace which kept the place nice and toasty. We also had some technology set up that's about twenty years ahead of me (I'm still fascinated with the five function calculator) that allowed us to take pictures with different backgrounds. Still have no idea how it works. The pictures you see of Alyssa, Nancy and I with Santa Clause are the result of that technology; so no, sadly, while it may look rather realistic, Santa was actually not in the picture with us.

It is so time for next years Turtlenog party.

Costa Rica!!!

Well I'm finally prepared to start writing about our adventures of last weekend. Krishelle casually mentioned on Thursday that Uncle Will wanted to go to Costa Rica and had found a great deal. Although I was never officially invited, by the time I got home from work I frantically started playing with the idea to go. Ten hours later the three of us were on a plane, leaving all our cares behind.
The excitement began on the first flight which we were unable to sit together on. The man next to me was about six thousand pounds and smelled like vodka, and Hillary Clinton sat directly in front of me the whole time complaining about the president and that you can't find good alcohol in Utah. Well they put on the movie "Mr. Bean's Holiday" and I hesitated but decided to watch it. Unfortunately I found it surprisingly funny and spent the entire movie with my hand over my face, mortified that anyone might think I actually found the fourth grade humor pretty dang hilarious. Uncle Will and Krishelle didn't watch the movie so I spent the rest of the trip explaining ever scene and line in perfect detail.
We had a layover in Atlanta and caught dinner where nothing too exciting happened other than the waitress dropping my plate in front of me saying, "Here ya go baby" and then yelling like she was a rock star "HOT!" which we of course quoted no less than five thousand times for the rest of the trip.


The film from Atlanta to San Jose was "Hairspray" (gag) and of course none of us have stopped talking like John Travolta dressed in drag ever since ("Has fam gone and got to your head!?"). The film was interrupted by an apparent emergency in the back of the plane which we found out from the flight attendants who mentioned there was a woman back there who didn't speak English, was completely unconscious and had thrown up all over herself. We tried to get Krishelle to go back there and say she was a doctor to find out what was going on but she wouldn't do it.

We made it to Costa Rica on Friday night and insisted on touring the cities. We had some prostitutes just outside our hotel (we lovingly referred to them as "prosties" for the rest of the trip). We went to the worlds most horrible McDonalds where the icecream we ordered alarmingly came from outside. When they gave it to us uncle Will asked "where did this just come from" but I don't think we got an answer so we just ate it next to the brownish orangish puddle of something that had apparently spilled all over the floor at some point during the day. We each got shot and mugged five or six times so after about an hour we turned in.

The sun came up at about 4:00AM and we were out of bed shortly after that on Saturday morning. We tried to go to this jungle zip-line-adventure that sounded really dangerous but it wasn't working that day so we ended up going on a calm jungle tour after it was recommended to us by a guy in the tourist office who told us not to go past first street because beyond that point the city is . . . "different. It's not as fun there," which of course is code for "go one step past first street and you will be shot.


We did some great souvenir shopping and bought stuff that none of us needed and will probably fall apart in a few weeks anyway and then we were off to the seven hour jungle tour. We sat on the back of the bus and were introduced to our tour guide John Pierre ("but you can yust call me Yay P").

The tour was amazing. We were with about fifteen other Americans (we gave names to every one of them). One old woman who was about sixteen feet tall and had her pants pulled up almost to her shoulders told me early on in the tour that she hates snakes. We immediately decided her name was Mabel and that we were best friends so for the rest of the day we tried to sit with her and stand next to her to develop the relationship but she just wasn't interested. We also met a nice man who we called Reed who told us he's a Mormon from New Jersey (after which Uncle Will gave him an intensive bishop interview by asking about his activity).

We tried desperately to get a picture of Mabel and her friend who we named Clarence. I posed in front of them while Krishelle was about to take the picture but then Reed insisted on taking it so Krishelle could be in it too. I told him to get a lot of the background in hopes that Mabel would make it in. The result is the picture at the top of this blog.

We took a tour in these basket things through the forest and back over the tops of the trees for about an hour and twenty minutes. Half way through, one lady who we name Juanita insisted on getting out at the turn around point because she was afraid of heights. I wish I could have seen the look on her face when they told her she had to walk forty minutes back through the jungle to get to the bus.

We also got to walk through much of the forest and see some great wild-life including three toed sloths which Mabel tried to call out of the tree by saying "here Kitty Kitty!" Yay P told us that the sloths bury their feces and one woman we name Vira said, "Well that is just so sanitary" as if the sloths were afraid of germs and equally as concerned with making her trip to the jungle clean and fun. God bless Americans. We need it.

The rest of the day we shopped and saw more of the city. On Saturday night we ran into a couple of Russians, one who spoke Ukrainian, and it was fun to talk with them.

Sunday morning we got up and found a church nearby and attended Sacrament meeting. It was nice except for the closing hymn which was "Away in a Manger" but sounded a lot more like "Green Acres" to me.

The flight home was sad and we all secretly hoped that we would miss it and have to stay in Costa Rica for a week. But alas, we flew home with few problems other than the intense turbulence over Colorado. I dug my nails deep into Krishelle's and Will's arms for about two hours and I wished I was with the lady in Atlanta who delayed the flight twenty minutes because she just had to get off right before the plane was about to take off. We all assumed she had the runs and had lost control in her pants. Of course every head was leaned out into the aisle and whispers echoed through the entire plane as she got off.

We got back to Salt Lake late and realized that the flip flops and shorts we were wearing were not going to cut it in the snow that had fallen and hasn't stopped falling since.

soale. Como se dice? Como se dice? Vamos a comer! Mira que cosa tiene la mujer esta! I left the iron on. HOT!

Consistency

Thanksgiving has now passed. And what a week it was. I always love Thanksgiving week in my family, partly because it's one of the few constant things in my life that I can count on. There
will always be a discussion about whether or not we actually stole the chairs in my parents garage from the church which we are now hauling to wherever it is we're having Thanksgiving this year. There will always be the "Thanksgiving beans" sitting on each plate before dinner starts so everyone can go around the table and name something they're thankful for. Mom will always cry and say she's thankful for dad when it gets to her turn, which is always very sweet. There will always be screaming children terrorizing everyone else the entire day (in the eighties these were my cousins. Now they are nieces and nephews). And there will always be an incredibly long prayer to bless the food, which is always disrupted by an incredibly awkward moment; two years ago it was Uncle Rick praying that a couple members in the family would just find spouses already, and as if that wasn't awkward enough, he got one of the people mixed up and prayed for my already married sister. This year it was my two year old niece, like a broken record, saying over and over again "I need go potty. I need go potty. I need go potty," confirming once again that I am simply too immature to maintain composure when bodily humor is placed in front of me, even in the most serious situations.


A couple of days after Thanksgiving, Krishelle and I decided to help our parents put up some Christmas decorations which made my mother overly excited. After fanning out the branches of the various wreaths and trees strategically placed around the house, I felt something come over my head and then realized that it was a Santa hat, disturbingly decorated with reindeer antlers. I walked into the next room and found that Krishelle had been assaulted with antlers of her own. Mom was running around the house singing every Christmas tune she's ever heard of (including a few that I'm positive she made up) while dad fiddled with the lights stating no less than fifty times that he hated those "stupid things."
As always, the decorations miraculously turned, from what always looks like a severe case of hoarding while still in the storage room, into an immaculate display of festive cheer. It's a talent that mom has always had.

I'm looking forward to Christmas now, so much so that I secretly longed for snow the other day for about twelve seconds. But don't tell anyone.

Two Things

I have stepped away from the blog for way too long and it is already time for Thanksgiving so I thought it would be appropriate to write about two of the things that I am currently thankful for and if I'm feeling ambitious, I will try to post more throughout the week:

I am applying to law schools right now and it's been a stressful ordeal amid all the school, work, church and family obligations (all in addition to the pressure of social interaction spurred from, as my bishop so lovingly put it for me today, "the window of opportunity closing fast") but I have had some great support. All three of my letter of recommendation writers were very prompt and kind to sacrifice some time to make up lies about me and serve as great counselors to me as I start to make some big decisions. I'm thankful for that.

Last Saturday Blaine and Diana's family were sealed in the temple and I got to go see it. I spent part of the afternoon with the family after the sealing and got to interact with Joseph and Matthew after not seeing much of them over the last month or so. That family has made some amazing progress and the parents are absolute saints for what they have done for those two little boys who have experienced so much tragedy at such a young age. I've been able to witness an incredible healing as I've watched that family work through trials that I could never imagine with such positive attitudes and incredible amounts of hope. I'm thankful for that.

If you're feeling ambitious, feel free to post something you're thankful for in the comments!!! (Very cheezy; I know)