What was I thinking?

Do you ever have days where you ask yourself "What was I thinking?"  I seem to be having a lot of those days lately.

I love the two great grandchildren I adopted, but when they are running around, as 4 and 5 year olds do I wonder.   When they are resisting going to sleep and jumping on the bed instead of lying down, while I am exhausted from a full day at work, cooking, cleaning and meeting various family needs, I sometimes wonder what I was thinking, but then I get a goodnight kiss or someone has to hold my hand in order to go to sleep, and I know I was thinking of them, not me, the love we have and the things I thought only I could give them. 

I know a daughter needs me to watch her children so she can work her unusual shifts, but sometimes I wonder what I was thinking when I agreed.     When I have four children ages four to nine running from one room to another I wonder. When I am fixing the latest thing that got broken because of the combination of children playing together or not respecting the rules I find myself asking, why I thought I could have a nice home as long as I have so many young children playing in every room.   I not only question my own expectations but what others expect of me. Of course, a lot of things have changed, some on her end and some on my own since we agreed I would help, which is when it comes to the end is what the thought was - helping. 

What was I thinking when I took a cut in hours and pay a few years ago? At the time it didn't seem like a big deal,  it was only $5000 a year difference.  Now the difference is over $11,000 (almost a year's worth of mortgage payments or the payoff of my car).  I was thinking it was better to have a well paying shorter hour job than a full time job with less benefits or salary.  I was thinking the same thing I think about now, the trade off of money versus the schedule which allows for
medical appointments and meeting family needs. I am still thankful for the blessing it so often is.

I guess my point is, for me, that when I question myself and sometimes ask "What was I thinking?" , upon reflection I find that the decision was not made without thought and there is always a blessing within if I take the time to look.  I wonder what you find when you stop to ask

Blessed with Sisters

I am so blessed to have two sisters, both of whom I love dearly.  Unfortunately because of daily life responsibilities, work, family obligations, health and distance we do not always get to see and talk to each other as often as we would like.   I cherish any time I get to spend with either of them.  

Last night I had the opportunity to sit and talk with my youngest sister at her new home.  I met the new man in her life and listened as she shared the new direction her life is moving  We shared a few memories of the past and reflected on lessons learned.  As usual, hours came and went unnoticed or marked until it was late and we reluctantly had to call our current time together to an end.  Hugging each other in parting I couldn't help but feel the warmth of love.  We may not reach out to each other as often as we like, but when we do, we walk away enriched, sustained and with renewed knowledge of who we are. 

On the drive home I thought about the opportunity I had just a few weeks ago to visit with my other sister as I drove her from the airport to our parent's home.  We shared happenings, concerns and hopes for family members, shared some memories and reflected on the importance of beliefs and choices in life.  As always, our time together was not long enough before time nudged to let us know we needed to refocus on life around us again.  So with a hug and kiss we separated comforted by the knowledge we are not alone in our beliefs, thoughts or struggles and we each have strengths, talents and love we can call upon to carry us through life until we speak or meet again. 

My thoughts about my sisters and the ways they each touch my life in different ways are what I am blessed to start this day with.  I know keeping these in mind I will walk lighter, find enlightenment and look for opportunities and meaningful moments throughout the day. 

Gladly Changing Profile

Since I have not posted much this last year and presently don't have many followers, I have not thought about my profile until this morning.  It still remains simple and short for the time being, however I realized I needed to change the numbers it reflected.

•  I get to change the number of grandchildren I have from 8 to 11.  My oldest daughter remarried, and I now have the chance to claim another 3 as grandchildren.  
•  I added a + to the number of grandchildren to represent a special couple adoptive couple whom I love in the same way and are always in my thoughts along with the others. 
• I changed the number of great-grandchildren to 3, because a new little angel was added this weekend.  
• The + great-grandchildren represent the son of the adoptive couple, because he is in my prayers as much as his adopted sister, and for another little angel my granddaughter is expecting in April.  

I feel so blessed this morning as I reflect on all the special spirits the Lord has allowed me to have in my life and call my family. Each one of them have something they represent to me and each one teaches me about and assists me in appreciating life in a variety of ways.  The talents and abilities of the older ones inspire me and remind me to keep improving my own life and reach for goals that I may have never considered before.  The exuberance and innocence of the younger ones help me remember to appreciate the simple things in life, to enjoy the small moments of life that are over too quickly, to love unconditionally and to be humble.  The extended members are there to remember that love doesn't always have to be spoken to be be given or received.  Sometimes love is sent through a thought or a prayer and sent with faith that they will know and feel it around them and their hearts will touched.   

/So as I close his quick post, I acknowledge the gifts and blessings of family which I enjoy.  These gifts I hold precious in my heart. These members of my family I carry in my thoughts and prayers each day,   I send my love to them through action, deeds, words and sometimes silence hopes.   I step back and let them live, yet stand ready to hold them or even hold them up when the time is right.  I trust the Lord to watch over them and bless them as he had blessed me.   

In Perspective With Gratitude

I just read on FaceBook that my sister had gone through our mother's music, organized it and downsized what was there.  My heart skipped a few beats, I went emotionally into panic mode, and fear.  All I could hope was it was only the music that mom used for teaching her piano students and not all the old pieces in the cabinet, some of which to me would be irreplaceable. 
There is a lot of music mom has that is much more than just a sheet of notes.  Much of her music is tied in with memories and precious moments and sounds that cannot be recreated and never forgotten.  There is music in the cabinet that is older than I am, older than my parents even, yet I love more than anything that is new.  There is music in the cabinet that were favorites of my uncles, aunts, cousins, parents and grandparents.  To me the music in the cabinet cannot be downsized.  It can be shared among the family, cherished and kept for new generations to learn and love, but never given away.  For almost every piece in the cabinet has a story, a person or a time attached to it.  Mother's whole life history can be chronicled through the music that is or should be in that cabinet.  Even some of the music that was probably on the shelf with her piano teaching books should be added to the cabinet, for it is part of he.r later life and what music has played an important part her later life.   
My sisters and I have often talked about the time when we would all sit down together and go through the music.  We have even discussed different pieces that are important to each of us and how hard it could be to decide, when the same song is important to each of us, who would be the keeper of the music sheets and who would keep only the memories.  I have always kept that time as far away, and my sister's post made me look at how quickly the years are passing and how the times we think are far away can become here and now in a fraction of a second.
Until my sister's post about the music, I had not let the knowledge that mom's accident could have been fatal hit my heart and mind, or allow the tears to flow slowly down.  I have thanked the Lord that it was not more serious than it is and that she is alive, but had not let the feeling of loss do anymore than quickly pass through. Yet the thought that we could be going through the music right now anyway, without Mom still here, really hit me hard.  I was so grateful that my sister could have the opportunity to go through the music, organize it and downsize some of it as an effort to make things easier for mother in the next few weeks and months, and hopefully many more years.   I was so grateful we as a family were not sorting through the music to make it easier on dad because having all the music there is too much of a reminder of mother for him to handle.  With perspective, the loss of a few sheets of music was far better than the loss of everything my mother is my life. 
So instead of feeling panic that my sister is going through the music, and wondering what she kept or didn't, or what she will take home with her,  I will send her my love, my encouragement and a prayer that she will be inspired in her choices.  I will pray that as she goes through the music, she will be surrounded by all the people from the other side of the veil that know and love the music, and that they will inspire her choices of what to keep or how to organize it so it can be shared with love.  I will pray that as she and mother go through the music, that they will feel surrounded by love from those here on this earth and those that are waiting for mother to join them in heaven.  Music has been a thread through so many generations, and this music represents the thread that can be unwound for many more generations to come.
In perspective, now is the perfect time to be going through mother's music, and share it again. I am grateful for the chance to have mother here to bless it's passage.  I pray that I will take the time as I review the sheets of notes, that I will write down the memories, the history and the love of each one special to me so my children and grandchildren will know why music is so much a part of my life and who I am or what I have become.  

60 Is Different

I remember being young and hearing that my grandparents were 60. Sixty sounded so old.

I wondered what I would be like when I was 60 and old. Being 60 was synonomous with slowing down, relaxing in life, retiring and enjoying life in a new way. By 60 all your children were grown, and you and your lifetime companion can focus on gently loving each other as you grow old together. 60 was when you got to enjoy being free to do things with your grandchildren, travel to places of your dreams, have the day free to read a book or just nap as long as you would like. 60 was when your children started helping you more than you helped them. 60 was when you would have your house paid off and be debt free. 60 was when you could stay home and crochet or read a book and not feel guilty about what you didn't get done, because there was just you and your husband, and so there was not so much to "get done". Being 60 meant visiting friends, doing geneology, writing letters to those far away, making memories with those near and having time to ponder not just read scriptures. Reaching 60 meant having the opportunity to be involved in community service as a volunteer or serving with your spouse on a church mission. Being 60 meant having time to make cute little gifts for all of you children and grandchildren (like net scrubbers, crochet hats and scarves, small lap afghans, or "casserole removers" (grandma's name for hot pads) for birthdays and holidays. Being 60 meant being active in clubs, lunching with friends or just being home most of the time so your children and grandchildren could stop by for a few minutes whenever they got a chance to give a little love and get a little love in return.


Twenty years ago my parents were 60, and being 60 for them was certainly not all of the above. Dad was looking for work at 60 and facing the challenge of not finding any. Dad didn't retire from any long years of work, he just didn't find another job. Dad had time on his hands, so he turned to what he loved doing. He carved, carved some more and carved something else. At 60 dad was working hard all week to have things ready for the weekend when he would go to a local restaraunt and carve and take orders from those who were willing to pay for his unique abilities. At 60 mom was still giving piano lessons everyday, there was no slow down there. In fact at 60 mom took on more than ever before. Dad built his wood shop in the garage and turned a bedroom into his carving sanctuary. At 60 mom had to create a color center and become a painter, after all someone needed to paint all those carving he was producing. So at 60 mom found a new talent and has been perfecting it ever since. While grandma used to do geneology at the library, mom at 60 was supporting her brothers in their efforts to organize, sort through and understand all the valuable information they already had. At 60 mom focused on passing down the histories of ancestors to her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. For mom and dad 60 meant change, but not towards relaxation or slowing down, or spending more time with family, hobbies or personal pleasures. It has only been the last 5 years that they have begun to live the kind of life I used to expect for someone of 60.

Now I am 60, and believe me, it is nothing like what I thought it would be like. I can only dream about being able to retire some day. I work 40 hours+ per week, and commute back and forth across town every day. Although all my children are grown, I certainly do not have an empty nest. I have 3 grandchildren who call my place home, and A, the youngest, still has another 7 years of school left before she graduates from high school. While I used to think 60 meant children were independent and settled, I find myself at 60 dealing with caseworkers, therapists, foster care, and the emotional & financial ups and downs of others lives (just as my own parents still have with me). While I believed 60 was when you just sat back and enjoyed visiting quietly with your grandchildren, at 60 I am caring for an active 3 year old and a 5 month old 5 nights & mornings a week, and most of every weekend. So instead of growing old, I am learning how to stay young from experts at enjoying life as each day happens. Geneology for me is hoping I can find a few minutes here or there to write in a journal or a jot a few lines of encouragement to a loved one. At 60 my house was not paid off, instead, due to refinances, I still had a 35 year mortgage, and lost my home of 20 years to foreclosure. At 60, instead sitting down to watch a favorite show and working on a needlepoint or crochet gift for someone, I am logging on to work from home or research a question. Instead of sitting at a quiet dinner table and sharing memories as my grandparents did with me when they were 60, I am creating different memories by doing crafts, cooking or playing with a grandchild to keep him/her entertained so their parents can have a night out or get some needed sleep.

No, 60 is not what I thought it would be like, but it is not bad. What my grandparents enjoyed at 60 has been pushed off to the ages of 70 or 80. It is good to know there is still more time, because I sure need it. There is so much more that I want to do and enjoy I need another 20 years to reach what I perceived "60" to be.

Children Will Listen

"Children Will Listen"

from In The Woods

How do you say to your child in the night?
Nothing's all black, but then nothing's all white
How do you say it will all be all right
When you know that it might not be true?
What do you do?

Careful the things you say
Children will listen
Careful the things you do
Children will see and learn
Children may not obey, but children will listen
Children will look to you for which way to turn
Co learn what to be
Careful before you say "Listen to me"

Children will listen.

Careful the wish you make
Wishes are children
Careful the path they take
Wishes come true, not free
Careful the spell you cast
Not just on children
Sometimes the spell may last
Past what you can see
And turn against you
Careful the tale you tell
That is the spell
Children will listen

How can you say to a child who's in flight
"Don't slip away and i won't hold so tight"
What can you say that no matter how slight Won't be misunderstood
What do you leave to your child when you're dead?
Only whatever you put in it's head
Things that you're mother and father had said
Which were left to them too
Careful what you say
Children will listen
Careful you do it too
Children will see
And learn, oh guide them that step away
Children will glisten
Tample with what is true
And children will turn
If just to be free
Careful before you say
"Listen to me"

Children will listen (repeat 3x)

(lyrics found at www:silyrics.com)

© STLyrics.com 2002 - 2010

No Mistake- He Knew What I Would Need

My Heavenly Father knows me so well. He knew what was coming, the choices someone else would make that would suddenly change a number of the lives of those that are dear to me in ways we would have never imagined. He knew that I would need to handle the knowledge I would be entrusted with in a manner of peace, calm and love. He knew I would need to know I could trust him to care for those I love in his own way and to not rush into any decision or make any judgements that could affect a number testimonies of his forgiveness. The Lord knew I would need to share my own testimony many times over the next few weeks to come, and strengthened me with the knowledge that he will not give me more than he knows I am capable of bearing.

When the bomb was dropped in my lap this week, I listened to the story and knew when I left the person that shared with me was now better prepared to handle whatever came next knowing she was not alone and that someone understood her pain and cared about her worries. In the midst of hearing the reason for the pain in this person's life and the others she cared about, I knew that I was led to a particular blog recently because of the subject matters of the story the writer was sharing. The strongest messages in the story are that no family is perfect, that love and understanding is vital to all relationships, and that healing is found through our Savior, Jesus Christ, when we are humble. As I went home that night I was filled with questions, but I was also filled with a knowledge that the Lord had prepared me to look at this through a different light. My first thoughts were not of how to confront the people involved in anger, but how to share my love and testimony with them. As the story was told, I was reminded of the pain of one of the characters, and my own anger and disgust was replaced by compassion for the person I held most responsible in the real life situation unfolding into my lap through sobs of sorrow and fear. I thought of another character in the story and remembered to not make any judgements, but to love and listen, knowing the Lord knows and loves each of the family members involved on a level I can not possibly understand. My part right now is to teach acceptance and understanding, patience and peace, and most of all to share my love and my testimony with these dear ones.

My Father in Heaven knew what could possibly be coming and over the past few weeks has been helping me to prepare. He has blessed me with a desire to reorganize, and to take charge of an area of my home that has not been used for a while. I know now that he has been preparing me for the choice being made today. My father in Heaven knew that one of the choices would affect everyone in my home, and has been strengthening me and giving me resolve in how to better handle some of my family relationships so that with his help previous reasons for conflict will be lessened or softened. I believe my Father in Heaven knew what was drawing near and provided me additional help with one member of my family so I can have enough inspiration and energy to support other family members who will need my attention and understanding as we make transitions and adjustments in schedules, responsibilities and interactions.

I know my Father in Heaven knows me. I know he loves me and prepares me in silent ways for the challenges and opportunities, the sorrows and joys of life. It is no mistake, he knows what I need and will prepare the way. I know I must trust him more and speak to him more often in prayer. I know I must attune my life to his will, and he will guide me in the choices I make. I know at this time that he will assist me in reaching out in the perfect way to each of my loved ones whether through a hug, a letter, a phone call or a visit, for I know with a surety that he will prepare their hearts to accept the truth of my unconditional love for them. It is no mistake- I know he knows.

Writing Encouragement

It happened again. I was talking with someone about one of my recent experiences and I was asked, "Have you ever thought about writing a book?" A familiar compliment followed. "I can't believe how you can look at things so calmly and keep going on." Again the thought was thrown out "Have you ever thought how much you could help or lift others?"

The answer is yes, I have thought about writing a book. I have even written a few short books, during a time when there was time between calls and projects at my place of employment to write some thoughts. They were not published, just bound and shared with some work associates and friends. I felt good about writing those books. The words flowed onto the pages in a matter of days. At the time I thought I was writing more for myself, but I found out there were others who struggled with the same issues I wrote about, and were thrilled with the concepts and way of looking at things from a different view. Encouragement, hope and faith was shared and passed from one heart to another as the books went from desk to desk. In recent years I have shared the books with other friends, therapists and a sent a few anonymously to someone when requested by a loved one who cared about them. So I know the messages were inspired, not just for me, but for others as well.

I used to have another blog, which I would update occasionally, but the host I was using changed their policy and I didn't make the change quickly enough. So for a while i did not write at all. Then the online posts of someone else I care about led me back to the Internet and the desire to again share my feelings with others. So here I am, writing a few thoughts once again, letting the thoughts flow through my fingers onto the page, wondering all the while who my words could reach today.

I have been touched myself recently by the writings of others. I found myself a few times wishing I could write like they did or counting the number of people who claim to be followers of their writings. As I thought about the different ways each of them wrote, I realized, of thousands of blogs on the Internet, I was led to these particular ones not randomly, but carefully. I didn't just do a random search for these sites, I was guided to them by a friend, a sister or a new loved one in my life. I trusted their instincts and their wisdom that these other blogs were of worth or value and found I was blessed by where they led me. I found others who wrote about everyday life in a variety of styles. I was reminded that each person who chooses to write from their heart does it in their own ways. No two are like. The subjects may be similar, the experiences familiar, but each person handles it or shares it in their own way. It would be easy to start making comparisons, judging one writer better than another, or someone who shares sadness against someone who shares joy, or even comparing myself to them, wishing I could write as eloquently, boldly or powerfully as I feel they are. I could, but I choose not to. For I know I was led gently to each of these other writers for the way they would touch or inspire me. My higher sources, my Heavenly Mother and Father, and other loved ones who have gone to a higher place before me, know me well. They trust that I will not find encouragement to renew my own efforts to write.

Through the writings of others I have found permission to write freely in ways I haven't tried for many years or possibly to even try a new way to write. Instead of writing random blogs, one woman chose to write 1 or 2 chapters a week of a serial novel (www.thejellobelt.blogspot.com) Another woman doesn't feel she can write well, but is an avid reader, so she simply posts short quotes from something she has read or found. A carving I saw on my sister's site (www.karlaskarvings.com) the other day tweaked my desire to write a new series of children's stories. A trip to mormonmommyblogs.blogspot.com yesterday reminded me that a small note to a friend may be more important today than anything I could write in a blog. What about writing a daily letter to someone I love or someone I have thought about? A blog forum challenged me for 30 days to choose one word a day and write just 100 words on the thoughts it brought to mind. Another author asked why we write in our journals daily and then hide them away with the hope that someday one of our children will read them and understand why we made the choices we have in our lives when we could write the same words and share them with our children, grandchildren and others now. I share the feelings of one writer who said she could write and say 3 times as much on the computer as she can trying to hand write it into her paper journal. As I write this, in my head I hear the instructions from the pulpit to write our life and family histories and I know that I could talk about a particular time in my life and it would be so different from what my sisters would write about the same time, yet all three versions are part of our family history.

So I accept the encouragement and inspiration to write in a variety of ways. I will look for and take advantage of every opportunity I get to write and find ways that I use every style in a positive way to touch others that will be led to my words as I have been led to others.

Apologies and Love

I wish I could say it is funny, but right now I can't, that sometimes loving someone gets so mistaken for something else it destroys what is good and leaves sorrow and grief behind. . I just received a call that has me in tears. Tears due to love for all those involved, even the ones that started as strangers but became special because of what they shared from their hearts. Now because of the misunderstandings and fears what was special, warm, spiritual, loving, genuine and wonderful will be wrapped up and made private. What brought comfort and joy to many will now be hidden, guarded and protected. Where love, guidance, support and encouragement might have been given and received, now there will be caution and regret and heartache. Blogs that were openly shared because of the excitement of sharing life, love and daily joys or sorrows will no longer be available except to a select few. I may never again share in the happiness and joys of some people I dearly love.

Why all of this? Because someone shared a blog with me they thought I would enjoy, which I did. On that blog they shared some others they were following. There were two that I found especially entertaining, informative and enjoyable. During the Christmas holidays the mother at one of the sites shared how much she enjoyed doing crafts with her children. and the kinds of simple crafts she was doing with them. Her enthusiasm and how much her children were enjoying making their pictures and such, reminded me that even the simplest crafts for the youngest hands are just as precious as any grand gift and that there is no limit to age when creativity is involved. Because of her sharing I took the time over the holidays to let my grandson do a few Christmas crafts in an effort to entertain him. Thanks to an idea from this young mother, I helped my grandson make a Christmas tree, make a Christmas picture, paint some ornaments to take home with him, and even make what his mother called his snow blizzard picture.

Another layer deep, from the above blog, was a blog she was following. This blog was written by another young woman. The first time I read this blog, I felt drawn back to it. There was a special sweetness and spirit that I felt each time I read about her testimony and her beliefs. One day she stated that they were making their blog private so if you wanted to continue following it, please send your email. I sent my email, and wasn't sure she would respond. She of course questioned who I was or how I learned about her blog. I told her where I had encountered it, and why I had gone to that site in the first place. This young lady was kind enough to send me a link to her next post, which I was very grateful for.

Well that one request led to her contacting an old friend, who happened to be the owner of the first blog I had started from and asking.a question that made them uneasy in a number of ways. And the owner of this site contacted someone they knew and shared their fears about who this unknown person might be. The lists of previously shared blogs are now off the site, and according to the person calling me earlier, the original site shared will likely become private as well. Since the owner of the blog has no legal obligation to share the site with me, and I have been reminded that this isn't my family anyway so there is no reason for me to expect them to share their site with me, (besides they need to protect their identiy and their family from those who might harm them) I am afraid I will lose ever seeing or hearing about them again. That is why I sit here crying.


So tonight I apologize to all that feel I have ruined their lives through caring about them or are frightened because of my actions or love or appreciation of what they had to share or excitement about their joy. All of their blogs were beautiful and I will miss having them to brighten my day. I wish them all happiness and joy and still send them my love. I am sorry if they misunderstood my enthusiasm or how their sharing inspired me or challenged me to share some of my own thoughts with others. Even though I thought I was being careful to not share their identities, not mention their names, my last thoughts were too close to home, too personal to not be recognized by someone who didn't until today even know this site existed, but now does, and is just trying to be protective herself. So, what I hoped might give encouragement and love has been perceived by those who I hoped to share it with the most as intrusive, disruptive and intimidating.


So now I have to decide if this blog will continue or not. I had a blog once before, and I enjoyed writing it. I had several people who followed it and it touched their lives in a variety of positive ways. Some were family and others were strangers. The blog ended when the hosting site changed their rules and offers. It felt good then, as it does now, to share love, encouragement, hope, forgiveness, gratitude, and the knowledge that if we look for the good we can find it even in the middle of trials and sorrows. I don't think I will decide right this minute. My emotions are too high, and the tears keep coming back. As I said, love, misperceived leaves alot of feelings trailing behind that need to be felt and examined.

I pray that those who need to see this will find it and know of my love for them.