Tuesday, September 21, 2010

I remember...Alexa's gift

I realize I said my goal was to write a memory every night and it has officially been over a month since typing any memory down. What can I say??? It's been one of those months. So I was thinking of a memory today I want to write about.


When Seth and I had been married for about three years we decided to move. Half-way across the country. To a little town in Iowa that neither of us had ever been in. To a 100 year old house we had never even seen photos of (by the way, it was a little scary. And by a little, I mean a lot).


I had just finished graduate school and we thought it would be a great idea to move to a place that was inexpensive to live and inexpensive for Seth to go to school. I was offered a job in Keokuk and being excited to get paid more than minimum wage for any job, I jumped at the chance.


We were so brave. Or dumb. Probably (most likely) a little of both.


As was expected, I got homesick. I still do, really. Some days are worse than others, but it is always hard for me to be away from my family. Seth's family is so awesome and I am really close to all of them. But your own family is special. They know your history. They are your history.


Anyway, every year for Christmas Seth and I travel to either stay with my family in Utah, or we go to his parents house in Belle Plaine, Iowa. Christmas's are always fun no matter where we spend them but this memory comes from a Christmas spent in Utah, about two years after we had moved to Iowa.


It was Christmas morning and after we had all (Mom, Dad, Keri, Jon, and us) opened our usual haul of presents from "Santa" at mom and dad's house, we headed up to Jamie's house to see what her kids had gotten and to exchange our sibling presents.


Now, by my calculations, Alexa (my niece) was about 8 at this time...I could be off...but she was around that old. In school, her class had made these calanders where they colored a picture for each month of the year and then had it bound into a calendar. Well, out of anyone she could have chosen to give that to, she chose me.


I was really surprised to be getting a gift from Alexa. When I opened it and saw it, it was so special to me I just started to cry. Somehow the culmination of all the struggles and heartaches I had experienced in the last few years away from home all melted away when I got that hand made gift from her. It was, perhaps, one of the best gifts I have ever gotten.


I have that calendar in my cedar chest right now. Whenever I see it, it brings tears to my eyes and I think about how sweet and loving that little girl is. Well, she's not a little girl any more, but she is no less sweet and loving.


Seeing that calendar helps me remember that even while I'm not usually in Utah to do all the fun things with my family I used to do (camping, fathers day picnic, parade of homes, etc.) I am still just as close to them. And probably even more so.


I have truly learned to appreciate those moments that I took for granted for so long. Maybe if I would have never moved so far away, I would never have realized what a treasure I had been given, to be a part of my family. So for that, I am thankful. And when I see that calendar, I think of those things.


So to my sweet Alexa: Thank you for that gift. I will keep that calendar forever.

This is Alexa on the day she was baptized.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

I remember... "Does Jesus play hopscotch?"

Written on Sunday, August 15th, 2010
This memory is a recent one. By recent, I mean--from this morning.

Rylan has been very interested in learning about Jesus. I know his primary class has sparked his interests and it works out very well because he likes to tell me what he perceived about what was being taught, and then that leads into a discussion where I get to teach him. So, today, there were a lot of "Jesus incidents". So I thought I'd share.

During sacrament meeting, Rylan needed to go potty. So off we went through the quiet halls and into the empty restroom. Right as we walk into the bathroom, Rylan asks: "Mom, is Jesus Here in church with us?" Me: "ummm.... well....you can feel Jesus' spirit while we are here in church, just like you can feel His spirit at our home (sometimes). But if you mean where is Jesus in his body, then I don't really know. I would guess that he is teaching people the things they need to learn." (so maybe I could have come up with a better answer if I had some prep time, but as it was, I just had to do my best. After he stood there pondering what I had said he looked up at me with the sweetest face and asked, "Oh. But do you think Jesus plays hopscotch?"

How dang sweet is that. I picked him up and gave him the biggest squeeze and then told him that I am positive Jesus DOES play hopscoptch.

So we both went to our classes and after church I picked him up from his nursury class. I asked him what he learned about today and he said, "Jesus" and nothing more.

Later that afternoon the whole family took a ride. We were driving along and chatting a little but at a quiet time Rylan wanted to let us know exactly what he learned today in primary. Out of the blue, Rylan pipes up from the back seat and says, "Jesus died on something because there were nails in his feet and fingers- Isn't that sad". He honestly sounded heartbroken. It took a minute to compose myself for that one and Seth didn't want anything to do with it so I just jumped right in and explained the crucifixtion to me 3 year old. And I think it went OK.

The funny thing about both of these instances is that Rylan brought them up on his own when no one was talking about it. He was thinking and processing these things he's learned on his own. I am so proud of him!

Friday, August 13, 2010

I remember...10 years ago


In honor of my tenth wedding anniversary, I thought I would share one small memory from my wedding day.

Surprisingly, I slept very well the night before my wedding and woke up very calm. The house was still asleep when I awoke and I quietly did my hair and makeup, then got dressed. I met my parents upstairs and we headed to the temple. Our wedding ceremony was scheduled for 9:30 a.m. so it was a pretty early morning.

The only anxiety I had through the night and then the next morning was thinking that Seth would forget to bring our wedding bands to the temple. Our little apartment was only a few blocks away but for some reason I was really nervous about him forgetting them.

When I got to the temple, I saw Seth in the waiting room and the first thing I asked him was, "Did you bring the wedding bands?!?" He got a proud look on his face and said, "Yes I did". He really was very proud of himself for remembering. Then my dad asked, "Did you remember the marriage license?" A look of panic crossed his face when he realized he had indeed forgotten to bring the marriage license with him.

I can giggle about it now, but at the time, it seemed like the worst had happened. Luckily, because our apartment was so close, it took Seth about 5 minutes to go get the license. We didn't even start late, everything was right on time.

It's funny how after your wedding day, you realize how unimportant the minor things about the day are (not that a marriage license or wedding rings are unimportant). When I think back about that day, my memories are so awesome. Although Seth got sick shortly after the ceremony, I can still think of that day and recall so few things that went wrong. It was a day I felt very close to heaven.

P.S.
This picture was taken about six years ago---not from our wedding. However, I don't have any wedding pictures on my computer so I resorted to this one. But I think it's a good picture. I really liked Seth's "Brigham Young beard".

I remember...Grandpa's subscription to National Geographic

Here's another remembrance of my grandpa Hoskins.

I can recall that whenever I went to my grandparents house, there was a stack of National Geographic magazines next to their couch. My grandpa would look through those magazines every day.

Thinking of this made me wonder about my grandpa. Did he simply enjoy reading about different cultures and lifestyles in various parts of the world, or did he desire to visit those locales. Perhaps because circumstances did not allow for world travel, he appeased his desire through experiencing the exotic places profiled in the magazine.

I guess in this lifetime I won't really know what was behind his love of that magazine. But when I see him again, it's one thing I would love to find out.

I remember...my dad's lunch box



I was thinking earlier today about my dad's old lunch box. I'm not sure what made me think of this but I haven't thought of it for a long time and I'm kind of surprised that such a mundane item made such an impression on me. But it did.

When I was younger, my dad packed his metal lunch box and took it to work every day. I have no idea what he packed because he abhors leftovers (much like myself). Nevertheless, I remember that lunch box sitting on the counter waiting for my dad to take it with him in the morning when he left for work.

I remember the lunch box being one of those old fashioned dome lunch boxes that are reminiscent of something a construction worker would take to work. I don't remember what color it was, but if I close my eyes, I can remember how the cool metal felt when you held it and the noise the handle made when you picked it up or set it down. Funny how the memory works.

So I've been wondering why I remember this and why it matters. Here's what I think:

The lunch box represents (to me) how hard working my parents are. From early on in my childhood, I have seen through their example the importance of hard work. Nothing was handed to my parents on a silver platter, they had to work hard for everything they now have. They had goals they had made for themselves and their family, then they did whatever it took to reach those goals.

When my parents built the house they are living in now, my dad worked his full-time job during the day, then a second job at night. My mom has told me how, through the years, managing money sometimes meant being creative with the bills and other expenses associated with raising 4 children. During the early years, my parents would take us out to eat once a month--McDonalds for an inexpensive Big Mac.

Thinking of my dad taking his lunch to work with him in that old box, reminds me how important it is to pray hard--then work hard. Just doing one in the equation doesn't work as well. They taught me that.

I hope I can show my children how important hard work is. Whether that means working hard in the home, the garden, at church, or at a job. Children notice those things, and learn from them.

Even if my parents had not told me verbally the importance of hard work (though they did), they showed me. And that has taught me more than any words ever could.