Thank you Chris, Barbara, and DeWin!
Brian bought a house a few months ago. He was just going to knock out a wall in the bathroom. Then one day all of the walls were gone. And the kitchen cabinets. And the flooring. And a ceiling. And electrical stuff.
The electrical is all back. The walls are all up again. They are textured and primed. They are ready to be painted pretty colors—yellow, tan, green, gray. I’m excited about the walls.
I’m afraid my truest colors have come out in the process. I’m amazed that Brian still loves me. I picked bathroom schemes, then promptly change my mind…once everything had been picked out. And I might have done some other fun tricks like that. I was just testing him. He passed.
The house is going to beautiful!
It isn’t quite finished though.
We may be living in a tent.
Or we may be lucky enough to live at his parents.
If they’ll have us.
Today I just finished my last flight as a flight attendant. I loved being a flight attendant!
I loved it much more than I hated it. But somehow my lists came out about equal in length. Hmm.
I loved:
My lists of dislikes is far too long for how much I loved the job:
I never had an emergency in the 3+ years that I have been a flight attendant—not even scary turbulence. I never had any unusually mean or crazy passengers. I never had anyone complain about me (the girl I just finished flying with gets like 10 complaints a year…why she told me that, I’m not sure—probably something to do with bullet point 6 above. I wasn’t surprised that she had so many complaints. I had a passenger ask for her name our first day flying together— let’s just say she’s a bit abrasive. All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed my time. I would do it again in a heartbeat. Maybe when my kids are all grown I will try it again….maybe with a different airline…one that treats it’s employees just a tad better …maybe an airline that hands out honey roasted peanut.
I’m having a hard time deciding if I should feel horrible for having let October 2nd come and go without having written about Clark turning 9 months old. It’s not that I didn’t think of him. I did. I think about him constantly. I didn’t realize it was October 2nd, that he was 9 months old that day, and that for the first time since he was born, I would not write about him on that day.
I asked Brian if I should feel bad. He said that I shouldn’t because I wrote about him on the 26th. I asked him how he knew I had written on the 26th. He just did. He remembers numbers.
Maybe I won’t write every 2nd day of the month anymore. Maybe I’ll just write when I feel like it?
So happy! So cute!
Eating—he loves real food!
I love you, Clark!
This morning when I woke up I was feeling especially overwhelmed. I have this thing that I am constantly working on in my life. Yesterday I didn’t do so well with it. Today I woke up feeling discouraged because of my failures yesterday. You know how that is?
Then I watched this:
I’m grateful for a prophet and for apostles that speak words of hope. Most of all I am grateful for the ultimate provider of hope—our Savior, Jesus Christ—for his love, for his life, and for his death. I love Him!
Dear Emi,
Remember how we both screamed the night that you came home and I had the blender going and I was wearing a black hoodie?
Imagine that times 10 when I'm laying in my bed last night...it's completely dark in the house. Every light is turned out. I have my earplugs in. My door is open. And all of a sudden I see a flashlight with a slightly blue-ish glow coming from the kitchen. I almost had a heart attack. Of course, in that moment, I did not logically think, "oh yes, of course, Emily told me people were coming"...instead I was sure my throat was about to be slit. Really. That was the only idea in my mind. I'm about to die. I'm about to die. Ha ha!
Love, Lucy
I just touched the soft bristles of the sponge I used to wash him during our last hour together and my hands ached just a little bit. They still hurt.
I’ve been cleaning my room again, and I came across Clark’s box of hospital things— his “Special Delivery” hospital shirt that I have been sleeping with every night. But it stopped smelling like him, so I finally washed it, folded it, and put it away.
And then I smelled the Johnson & Johnson baby wash. I have 3 little bottles that I took from the hospital. One of them is the actual bottle I opened to bathe him with.
Bathing him, with my mom by my side, was one of the most beautiful and sacred moments we had together. I wish he could remember that moment more than any other.
Joseph is my brother that lives in Honduras. I don’t like Honduras, but I like him! He had a birthday about a week ago, and I still haven’t celebrated it on my blog!
So here’s a celebration for Joseph:
I love you!
I could be sitting next to Harry Connick Jr. and not notice—and I really like Harry Connick Jr. (There’s something about the way he dances with Sandra Bullock in Hope Floats that kind of melts my heart.) I’m sure that I have had many famous people on my flights without having any idea. Oh, the missed autograph opportunities!
I’ve had only a handful of celebrities on my flights in the last 3 years.
Today I had Brad Pitt!
Just kidding. I didn’t. Or maybe I did and I didn’t notice.
Actually, today I had a C-list actor—Kim Coates. Had the other flight attendant not identified him, I would never had known. But, now I’ve googled him—and he’s for real. I guess he was in The Client and Pearl Harbor and a lot of TV shows. I think he really loved that someone finally knew who he was because he really tried to work it with me and wondered what hotel I was staying at. Actually, he was quite charming.
Last year I had Michael Keeton. He was sitting in the first row, and I sat facing him much of the flight and had no idea I was amidst such fame. I did notice his shoes, nice fitting jeans, and cashmere sweater though! It wasn’t until the end of the flight that I finally looked at his face and thought, “I think he might be famous.” And then it wasn’t until after he left, and the pilots told me, that I was able to put a name to his face. (For those who care, his real name is Michael Douglas. It was his name on my flight manifest. Interesting)
I had Wayne Newton once. His hair is super black and shiny. I had no idea he was famous. I had to google him too.
The first famous person I noticed on a flight was my most interesting one. Kim Peek. He’s the man that inspired the movie, Rain Man. He’s played by Dustin Hoffman (who costars with Tom Cruise). He is a savant and has a photographic memory. He was traveling with his father who asked me questions that Kim Peek could provide very interesting information about. He knew my zip code and area code when I told him which city I was from. He knew what day of the week I was born on just by knowing the date. He knew what day my birthday would be next year and the next. It was pretty fascinating.
I disconnected from everyone and everything possible.
I took the plug out of the socket of my little shattered life and I read. I read and I read and I read. I never read so many books in such a short period of time.
I read books that became my favorites: Jubilee Trail (and other fantastic books by Gwen Bristow), A Town Called Alice, The Winds of War, Crow Lake, and many, many more.
Ideas come when I’m reading. I should have been a blogger then. Imagine the ideas that would have come. They would have been very bitter, but very clever.
I hurt so bad then. Now as I read, I am usually very hopeful. I am happy. So, so happy.
I’ve read several books in the past few weeks that I’ve loved. The History of Love, by Nicole Krauss. The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, by Mary Ann Shaffer (loved!). I just finished Catching Fire, by Suzanne Collins a few days ago.
I’m not sure what to read next. Any ideas? Please share!
I’m cleaning my room and made the mistake of going through pictures from Clark’s birth.
I miss him so much. Sometimes I still wish it could have all happened just a little differently—like Abraham. You see, Abraham didn’t have to actually sacrifice his son. I was a little bit delirious in the hospital from a lack of sleep, but I really thought there was a chance that I would only have to go as far as Abraham did and then an angel would stop me from actually going through with it. I was waiting for the last minute phone call informing me of the “tragic” death of the one person that made it impossible for me to keep Clark. It never came.
I have no regrets about placing him for adoption, but it sure doesn’t help when I see that little face and remember his little body in my arms. I miss being his mom. I would give almost anything to replay those 2 days again….with a different ending. An ending that involves a fatal car crash.
Let’s really hope he hasn’t found this blog again…
Tonight I will sleep in clean, crisp sheets at the Grandma House.
Because once I told e that the thing I love most about staying in hotels is having clean sheets every night.
I love coming home to you! Thank you e!
Clark was perfectly delightful throughout the ceremony. He was smiley, engaging, and full of life.
I love you, Clark!
When I find out that someone reads my blog, and loves it, I like it.
My dad reads my blog if I write about him. My mom tells him to read it. Maybe he’ll read this. I have unwritten posts in my head about my dad. I have to space them out.
My mom is probably my most faithful follower. She loves it. I could write a post about my mom every day. There’s that much to write. I need to start in on that.
A few days ago I found out about someone else who reads my blog. He says it’s one of his favorite blogs to read. He didn’t have to say that. But I appreciate it. He laughed when he read my Dr. Claw post. You were supposed to laugh. (and be a little angry with me too) So, thank you.
Years ago when my dad was called to be part of a bishopric, my mom was talking to her sister and told her the news. My dad, being the private man that he is, doesn’t really announce news like that—or really any news at all—and wasn’t really thrilled about my mom doing it either. He would rather the topic just come up naturally. Well, obviously, some things (like being called into a bishopric) just don’t come up naturally.
The next time my mom wanted to announce something that doesn’t come up naturally, she coined the phrase, “What do you think about…?
This phrase has since been used many times in our family to announce important things.
For example, if I were wanting to announce that I was getting married, I might say something like…
“What do you think about weddings in November?”
Well folks, it’s not hypothetical. It’s true.
Brian proposed last weekend.
And I said “yes!”
Years ago one of my favorite friends, Jill, told me all about how romantic the Oregon Coast is. I’d never been. I really didn’t know what she meant by that. But I was pretty sure that she didn’t mean romantic like roses and a box of chocolates. She’s an English major, she’s good with words, and for some reason I think she may have been talking about a different kind of romantic. The kind of romantic where powerful waves crash high up on the rocks and the skies are a deep gray. The kind of romantic where you take your shoes off and roll up your jeans to walk in the sand, even though it’s cold and you are wearing sweatshirts. The kind of romantic where you write your names surrounded by a heart with a stick in the sand. Is this the kind of romantic you meant, Jill?
Brian and I drove to the coast a few weeks ago after church. 
It was perfectly romantic!
When Clark’s mom first saw him, one of the first things she commented on were his long fingers. “Piano hands!” she said. (She’s a piano teacher) He’s starting young!
Oh, how I love him!
I’m a little behind on posting…my internet on my laptop has not been functioning very well.
I spent the 4th in Portland with Brian. While Brian and his brothers and dad were at the house working for several hours, his sister-in-law, Heather and I ran to the grocery store for a few things and then had several hours to chat.
In the evening we had a nice barbeque with friends and family. After dinner, Brian and I went golfing with friends, played Rock Band, and then watched fireworks from the Robert’s backyard. They were beautiful!
You can’t tell in this picture, but there are fireworks all across the sky behind us. What a great day!
I love this picture of me and Clark. I’m telling him something important. Maybe I’m telling him how much I love him and how hard it is going to be to let him go. Maybe I’m telling to be good, kind, and obedient. I might be telling him to serve a mission and get married in the temple. There were so many things I told him during those two days.
I wish I could hold him right now. This is what I would tell him today:
Clark,
I know you don’t remember me, but six months ago I gave birth to you—you were perfect! Some day I’ll remind you of those two heaven-like days we had together. I think you knew me well. You knew my voice. I held you so close. I hated to let you go, even just for a moment when we were in the hospital. Then I let you go forever—so that you could be happy. I never thought I’d stop crying when you were gone. But, I don’t cry every day anymore—just some nights when I’m all alone and my ache for you can’t seem to calm. I still miss you like crazy. I still think of you constantly. And, of course, I love you! I’m grateful for the miracle of your existence. I love your parents and am grateful for the happy home they have given you. I love you, Clark!
Love,
Lucy
He is so cute, so big and so happy!
It’s hard to believe that he’s lived for a half of a year. Looking back through our hospital pictures, and remembering the pain, I’m kind of surprised I’ve made it half of a year. But I have. I only have through the Atonement. Christ has eased the ache and given me strength, blessings, and happiness!
I just got back from a gratifying run in the sun. While jogging to some of ABBA’s best, I was reminded of two of my favorite people. A couple that, in my lowest of low moments in life, invited me on their date night to go see Mama Mia!…and I accepted! Shameful, I know. I also without very much hesitation, crashed several more of their date nights, seeing other fantastic movies like Get Smart and Ghost Town, and eating yummy places like Spaghetti Mama’s and Five Guys.
The fun didn’t end there. Many of my evenings were spent in their room, in a rocking chair, where I started watching, and quickly became addicted to some of my favorite television shows—So You Think You Can Dance and Survivor being two of my favorites. And somehow in that rocking chair, numbed by the noise and action of the TV, and knowing I was loved and supported, I healed.
Today I am grateful. Very, very grateful!
I am grateful for God’s blessings. Blessings that were created just for me.
Blessings like Brian.
“Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.” (1 Corinthians 2:9)
Come what may, and love it!
Thank you for being an example of the kind of man and father I hope Clark will become.
Faithful.
Hard working.
Smart.
Outgoing.
Obedient.
Kind.
Thanks for being Clark’s dad!
Please teach him to be a good man.
Happy Father’s Day!
My dad is the smartest person I know. Really. I used to tell people that he speaks 7 languages. I think I may have been off by a few. But, that’s how smart I thought he was. That’s how smart I think he is.
Some of my fondest memories with my dad involve learning.
The names of flowers, trees, birds, and insects.
Excursions to The City—just me and him. We visited art museums. We studied the details of the Russian Bride painting. I learned about The Thinker, inlay wood, and how to look at the works of Monet.
Speaking only Spanish on the way to early morning seminary. Phrases and questions like “Que color es la luz?” David learned much more Spanish than I ever did. I mastered mascara application during those morning drives…unfortunately I never mastered Spanish quite as well.
Early morning grammar lessons during the summer. He made yummy hot chocolate as a consolation prize. I’m not sure I was sold. I may not have been very enthusiastic about that summer plan…but I learned.
Reading the scriptures as a family. It was never a fast read-through-and-on-to-dinner kind of reading. We learned details and history. We learned how to say abominable—“a bomb in a bowl.” I bet he doesn’t remember that.
Sweet discipline. I always felt loved. I was almost always calm at the end of my discipline sessions with Papa. I sat in the rocking chair across from his desk. Sometimes he just kept working or studying while I sat there and calmed down a little bit. I needed calming. Once when I was inconsolable he asked me to write a paper on the issue. I learned.
He was always teaching me something .
The greatest thing I learned from my dad is the nature of God. Years ago I heard of a study comparing one’s view of Heavenly Father in relation to their earthly father. In general people view Heavenly Father as being similar to their dad—just greater. If Heavenly Father is anything like Papa, I look forward to meeting him.
I love you, Papa!
I spent another lovely weekend in Portland with Brian.
This weekend was very relaxing.
Friday we had dinner at Red Lobster with his mom.
Saturday, after a lazy morning, we went to his friend’s graduation from the Social Work program at Portland State. Congratulations Stacy!
Afterwards, Brian was very thoughtful to treat me (and him) to very relaxing, very appreciated pedicures. My high heals, though very cute, were not very comfortable. My feet loved the attention!
Among other relaxing Sunday activities, we picked strawberries from his parents backyard strawberry patch. His mom took these pictures:
Mostly I can't stand airports. When I'm not working I try to avoid them. But there is one thing I love about airports—reunions! Watching (and participating in) airport reunions make airports bearable—even wonderful!
I love descending the SLC escalators into a sea of sign-holders, men with flowers, wives with antsy children and babies. I especially love watching the family that has waited 2 long years for their 19 year-old boy to descend that escalator. And I cry a little every time.
Usually I am in my uniform and they aren’t there for me, but that’s okay. Reunions make me happy. They give me hope. They are full of excitement, anticipation and love!
And they get me excited for my own little reunions…
