tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86981693336443237942024-03-13T23:01:43.310-06:00Uplifting EvaMy positive outlook on life in an effort to make sure I never become clinically depressed again! I tend to philosophize about mothering, spirituality, and the challenges of life. I am an LDS mother of 3 kids that homeschools. Writing and song-writing help me and I hope sharing these thoughts can help my posterity and a few other readers too. Thanks for stopping by and please visit often! Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger105125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-87598613073614386652015-02-13T11:39:00.001-07:002015-02-13T11:39:38.928-07:00The Most Beautiful, Real, True, Love Letter Ever Written<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 25.7600002288818px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Every V-Day I take 3 minutes to listen to the most beautiful, real, true, love letter ever written. It's the goodbye of a CW soldier & father to his wife. I am still learning this kind of love. But I am so thankful for the timeless examples of others. People don't talk like this anymore, but how I wish I they did. Grab a tissue & listen to this testament to eternal, pure love. Nothing glamorous. Nothing selfish. Only selfless, sad and yet full of hope...</div>
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"July 14, 186<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">1<br />My very dear Sarah:<br />The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more . . .Sarah my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me unresistibly on with all these chains to the battle field.</span></div>
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The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them for so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grown up to honorable manhood, around us... If I do not my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name. Forgive my many faults and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often times been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness . . .</div>
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But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the gladdest days and in the darkest nights . . . always, always, and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, as the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again . . ."</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-64585161790787966232015-01-29T02:01:00.002-07:002015-01-29T02:01:42.361-07:00Leaving the Shire and Other Adventures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMG5U22ZwRdsd6lGLm-yp0S9FRTECe3i5aeq7MUGfH6wuKu48nCEntN38Hdtfk12hEjPh1v3WDGeBYdhv3J3QZW6I8txhYGTN5rw69KdODkxX8y6G8fBr5kBQWgosw0zS3wpVBhqit6VUZ/s1600/On+a+Date.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMG5U22ZwRdsd6lGLm-yp0S9FRTECe3i5aeq7MUGfH6wuKu48nCEntN38Hdtfk12hEjPh1v3WDGeBYdhv3J3QZW6I8txhYGTN5rw69KdODkxX8y6G8fBr5kBQWgosw0zS3wpVBhqit6VUZ/s1600/On+a+Date.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I've been procrastinating writing this for days, which is interesting because I'm excited to share about this photo which was 3 years (or even 31 years) in the making! But it's also hard, because it means I'm moving forward. But it's time to end this chapter. When I heard The Hobbit was going to be made into a movie I had a crazy idea- to WAIT until the final film was in theaters and then watch each movie, one night after another. This was CRAZY because I am a BIG LOTR fan! I saw each one at the midnight premiere!! I've sat through 2 LOTR marathons, 1 of those was EXTENDED VERSIONS at my own Dad's 45th birthday party. But I am ESPECIALLY a fan of The Hobbit. I consider it "my book" for a couple reasons. First, my Dad read the entire book while my mom was in labor with me. Seriously! Also, when I was older he read it aloud to me with incredible voices and energy. And he described to me with a proud smile on his face, the Halloween costume he had as a 6th grader- Thorin Oakenshield, blue cloak and all. The connection between us and this book even inspired the title of my published personal essay, "There And Back Again With Daddy." So it makes sense that I would want to be able to enjoy those movies in the most ideal way, one right after the other. <br />
<br />
Beyond all these reasons though, I think I was waiting because I didn't want to start a journey I wouldn't be able to finish with my Dad. We had traveled through the Shire many times and I didn't want to begin a journey when my father was still alive but have to finish it without him. <br />
<br />
In fact, the night we finally watched the first film, one we waited 3 years to see, I was a horrible, cranky, mess. I kept finding myself thinking "What would have Dad said at that moment?" or "Dad would have laughed at that part." It was like all the holidays I had experienced the past year without him were easy because I had celebrated each one without him at some point already in my life. And the really important moments, like Sophia's baptism, I knew he was with me then. But this was the first time I was doing something simple, yet significant, that I felt he should be there for...and he wasn't. I didn't blame him. It was just hard.<br />
<br />
Then I had that thought I've often leaned on for support "Daddy wouldn't want you to feel that way. He would want you to be happy." So I was able to take a deep breath, kind of relax, and start to enjoy the film. <br />
<br />
The little details touched my heart as they reminded me of the sweet experiences of reading the book with my father. Bilbo forgetting his handkerchief. Longing for his Hobbit hole. The songs of the dwarfs. The presence of Beorn. I could go on and on. I had gone on that literary journey over 2 decades ago, and yet it was all fresh in the front of my mind and heart.<br />
<br />
After 2 fun nights watching the first couple films at home, we headed to the movie theater for the final film. I'll admit I was holding back some tears as I walked up that ramp into the theater. This was it, it was finally happening. The last movie was here and my Dad wasn't... It was now my journey to take. It was time for my own adventure. I had my sweet husband there to travel it with me. It was time.<br />
<br />
In all honesty, of course the book was better than the movies! But the films were still fun and I'm glad they were made. It was quite the visual experience! But the best part might have been the end. The song playing during the credits was called "The Last Goodbye." It was the end of an era of amazing cinematic adventures, and they definitely recognized that. But it was also an end to a chapter in my own life. Not that chapter where my Dad had died. That was over. I had been living with that for a year. The end of the chapter of mourning and hanging on.<br />
<br />
I had needed that time. It was an important process of growth and self-discovery. But now it was time to turn a new page. It was time to move forward. Here are those lyrics...<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">I saw the light fade from the sky</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">On the wind I heard a sigh</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">As the snowflakes cover my fallen brothers</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">I will say this last goodbye</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Night is now falling</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">So ends this day</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">The road is now calling</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">And I must away</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Over hill and under tree</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Through lands where never light has shone</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">By silver streams that run down to the Sea</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Under cloud, beneath the stars</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Over snow one winter’s morn</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">I turn at last to paths that lead home</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">And though where the road then takes me</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">I cannot tell</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">We came all this way</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">But now comes the day</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">To bid you farewell</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Many places I have been</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Many sorrows I have seen</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">But I don’t regret</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Nor will I forget</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">All [who took the road with me]</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Night is now falling</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">So ends this day</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">The road is now calling</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">And I must away</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Over hill and under tree</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Through lands where never light has shone</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">By silver streams that run down to the Sea</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">To these memories I will hold</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">With your blessing I will go</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">To turn at last to paths that lead home</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">And though where the road then takes me</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">I cannot tell</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">We came all this way</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">But now comes the day</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">To bid you farewell</span><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><br style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;" /><span style="background-color: #8f9189; color: #3a3a3a; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">I bid you all a very fond farewell.</span><br />
<br />
Growing up it was ALWAYS tradition for our family to sit in the movie theater until the credits were done (way before producers started putting fun, silly clips at the end.) We sat through them mostly so Daddy could see where the movie was filmed. For some reason he really liked knowing that, and there was no imdb.com back then. In honor of tradition, I had planned on staying until the end of the credits. Chad even expected it. But after that beautiful song, things changed. I realized I already knew where this movie was filmed and that really, I didn't need to stay. I'm my own person, and I can do things my own way. It might seem like something small, but it really was a huge step to go to that movie, enjoy it (almost tear-free,) and then walk out of that theater with my husband before the credits were finished rolling.<br />
<br />
I thought I had done it. I was finally moving forward! But in reality I was still a tad stuck, because I wasn't ready to write about it. In other words, I wasn't ready to reflect, process, be completely done and move on. Because then I would be moving on without him and I would have to figure out this next chapter in my life without him too. And what would that be? What would I do next? For so long I've been dealing with his being sick, his demise, then his death. That was a big part of my life, and perhaps even a crutch to keep me from moving forward on other things I've wanted to do in my life. I was finally comfortable in this place of coping and enduring. But now it was time for more than that. It was time to go on a new adventure and leave my comfortable, figurative hobbit-hole. It was time to embrace that fact that I didn't have a handkerchief. My Dad always had one in his pocket for me to borrow, but that was no longer a possibility. It was time to face dragons and find gold.<br />
<br />
I'm closing that book and leaving those great memories of Daddy to start a new adventure. In this new book I don't see him. I feel him sometimes. He communicates to me at times. But for the most part, he is writing his own story somewhere else and I am writing my own here. And I am going to "wear a sword instead of a walking stick!" <br />
<br />
I started this post saying that picture took 3 years to happen because that's how long we waited until all of the Hobbit movies were out for us to see consecutively. But it took 31 years of experiences, love, and faith to finally HAPPILY see them and then move forward. And I did it. And I am moving forward, through leaps and bounds because J.R.R. Tolkein was right, "The road goes ever on and on." I am entering worlds I didn't fully see before. It will still be a journey, but it is worth every day's efforts.<br />
<br />
My new adventures include really living in the moment and enjoying the good times with my family. My new adventures include laughing with my husband more, and at myself more too. My new adventures include having greater faith and letting go and jumping out of my comfort zone- I will break the dishes and crack the plates! My new adventures will be a myriad of house projects as we try to finish our renovations. And I am eager and excited! But don't be surprised if you see my front door painted green.<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
Eva<br />
<br />
P.S. <span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">“There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.”</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">― </span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/656983.J_R_R_Tolkien" style="background-color: white; color: #666600; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;">J.R.R. Tolkien</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">, </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/1540236" style="color: #666600; text-decoration: none;">The Hobbit</a></i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-73975009719671111162015-01-22T03:14:00.001-07:002015-01-22T03:14:21.408-07:00"You Must Believe In Spring"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It was important to me that the one year anniversary of my Daddy's death (or "birth" into the next phase of life, as I like to think of it) feel beautiful and hopeful. I know God knew I needed that. And He blessed me by giving me a bit of spring in January. Just like I spent that day a year earlier enjoying my children and the sunshine at a local park, we did the same thing this time, only the scenery was slightly different from San Diego. Here is our special, hope-filled day...</div>
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My Michael climbing and smiling!</div>
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My Sophia being her sweet, beautiful self.</div>
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My Sammy after he slipped in the muddy snow but insisted on still playing.</div>
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Sophia! Jumping!</div>
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The sky reflected so beautifully in the stream...</div>
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Michael even noticed and pointed out the pretty running water to me.</div>
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Being a cheese ball with his cool walking stick!</div>
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It warms my heart to see my kids running and going on adventures together!</div>
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The kids found this lovely bird very close to us and flying around. Daddy felt very close too.</div>
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These berries were so alive and amazing. Talk about a vibrant sign of life!</div>
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Even though there was still ice floating on parts of the water the kids were eager to step into it, throw leaves and skip rocks on it. They remind me to make my own fun, enjoy the little things and seize the moment!</div>
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Sammy...my precious little adventurer!</div>
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The water was beautiful. Even though it's cold, the birds are still enjoying the afternoon.</div>
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Some geese flying overhead... I love noticing beautiful, natural moments like these with my kids.</div>
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Feeding ducks, just like we used to at the UC Davis arboretum when I was kid...</div>
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Yes! Kids being kids and running down the hill on their own accord. </div>
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Can anything make you feel more alive than a sight like this?</div>
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I love the running water. What was frozen is melting, moving and sharing life again. </div>
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Everything that has been frozen in death will be alive once more...</div>
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All my kids are in this fun picture. Yes, in treasured moments like these the future is definitely brighter...</div>
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I love the white snow on the ground and white clouds in the sky!</div>
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That is me SMILING on the anniversary of my Daddy's death. I can do that because he's taught me well (and still is) that life goes on and on...</div>
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On the way home the kids started spontaneously clapping to a blue grass, pioneer-style instrumental version of "We Thank Thee Oh God For A Prophet." It reminded me of the Civil War and Mormon battalion reenactments Daddy enjoyed. I know he would love this song and their clapping to it!</div>
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I had to stop and get a picture of these Canadian geese. The first real report I ever wrote was about Canadian Geese. I still remember going over it with my Dad and learning how to edit and rewrite! It was such a learning experience and I think of that first experience of learning how to write every time I see a Canadian goose. I know he used to remember the same thing when he saw them too.</div>
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As I was doing dishes, the colors outside my window caught my eye. Just like last year, Daddy painted the sky for me. I took these pictures from my backyard while standing on a cold patio chair in my socks- but it was worth it! Maybe someday I will edit out all those wires, poles and that fun, uneven fence! But even without doing that, it's breathtaking.</div>
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It feels good to know we have made it through a year without Daddy here with us the way he was before. I miss him, but I know he is doing wonderful things in incredible places. I feel him close to me all the time, especially as I watch my kids enjoying this beautiful world. Life is ever changing. Kids grow. Seasons change. Spring comes again. And Daddy, well, he is having his own changing, growing and spring in the next life. I am happy for him. And I am happy to be here with my children and husband, changing and growing too...ready for spring. Love, Eva </div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-68485609249635551962015-01-18T23:58:00.001-07:002015-01-21T23:50:35.400-07:00The Day The Music Died<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Today it's been one year since I held my Daddy's hand and watched him take his last breath. It was in his pale yellow bedroom overlooking the city he grew up in, in the hills of San Diego. And in all that time I haven't written about the tender mercies I experienced that morning, or what I did with the rest of that sacred day. Well, now it's time.</div>
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We had been there for nearly a week. Daddy had slipped into a coma and we knew his time was fading. In all that time we hadn't seen a single hummingbird. Feeders surrounded his balcony because he liked to watch them from his bed. As I tended to my mother and spoke to him (because the nurses told us he could still hear us) I watched for those lively, happy hummingbirds. </div>
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But none came. </div>
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Not until the moment that his body grew cold and his hands held stiff. I held my mother. I let the tears stream down my face. We made sure he really was gone and nodded to each other that he was in a better place now. And then I saw it. Flying like a graceful dancer with beauty and life, zipping here and there outside the window, a hummingbird. Where we had seen none for days, there were now many.</div>
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Throughout the rest of the day I continued to see them outside through the windows, on the balcony and at the park. I was so grateful, grateful for these little reminders that my Father was happy. He was soaring. His spirit still had life. He was no longer here, but alive somewhere else in the skies, in the heavens. That is what those little birds meant to me on that day. They were a comfort when my heart was cold. They warmed me, as little flying creatures continue to do so, as they seem to find me each time I start to feel weary. Sometimes they are dragonflies hovering around me children on a hike. Or a butterfly that follows me and tries to land on my arm. </div>
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I am so thankful for that continuing gift.</div>
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That morning I let the children say goodbye if they wanted to have one last moment with him here on earth. My oldest two did, and then it was time for us to leave while the body was taken away. I wasn't sure at first what to do in a foreign town, in the heavy mood I was in. I decided what we all needed was some fresh San Diego air and a sentimental distraction. So we headed to the local park, one that was next door to a school my Dad attended in his youth. The same park he had played in as a child.<br />
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I was barely able to find a parking spot, it was so crowded! But I pulled in just as another car was leaving. And when I got out of the car I couldn't help but smile. The plant beside me was a Bird of Paradise. There were several of them, bright and beautiful. These were the same plants that my Dad had joked about on SEVERAL occasions- try EVERY time we walked by one. The joke went like this: "Look out!"(cheezy pointing gesture) or "Be quiet!" (then whispering) "It's a bird of paradise!" That joke never got old, every year that we visited San Diego and every time I heard him say it, it made me smile. <br />
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What made me smile even more on that day was hearing my kids say it. Once I told them what "Little Grandpa" used to say about those plants they were sold, making that joke every chance they could as we walked by their beauty. Especially my Michael, who is a budding comedian after his own Grandpa's "Dad-joke" style.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy-KCIa9vQ1KxwLvrUXraiheCUyB1OK8ZFeQfDCG6C4RpUK3jAte59hSkPbmrXGxVhY9WKv043iU3yNIZYT_3eSedkmmz4tq-oLHBLColCfFWKhqPLMyXWashBe1oiw1TbrKVx5LCGS3VS/s1600/IMG_2441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy-KCIa9vQ1KxwLvrUXraiheCUyB1OK8ZFeQfDCG6C4RpUK3jAte59hSkPbmrXGxVhY9WKv043iU3yNIZYT_3eSedkmmz4tq-oLHBLColCfFWKhqPLMyXWashBe1oiw1TbrKVx5LCGS3VS/s1600/IMG_2441.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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I found it both ironic and precious that the park we chose to visit was a having a HUGE birthday party! But in moments like these remembering that life goes on is more than important, it's healing. And that's what I kept thinking to myself as I watched my kids play. My daughter made friends with a little girl immediately and went running off to play soccer in the field, leaving me to watch the two boys...one named after my Dad and the other with a middle name that was chosen by him.</div>
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I saw them and the sense of adventure and play they had running through their blood and I remembered how beautiful this life is. And that's something to treasure each day, no matter how hard that day might be. Especially on hard days. Even if you just lost someone. Because they aren't really gone. Part of them lingers...<br />
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I saw my Dad in my own little Michael, as he did all sorts of silly "tricks" on the swing and wanted me to watch each one. "Look Mom! No hands!"</div>
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I felt alive when I saw his toothy smile! He is a dreamer and adventurer like his Grandpa!</div>
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He even stuck out his tongue like Daddy used to when he was concentrating!</div>
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I loved how he continued to show off for the camera... I loved the clouds, the green, all the beauty and life I could take in...</div>
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And then I watched my Sammy. Always busy. Ever moving. Always reaching higher.</div>
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His feet are so little, but still capable in their own way. Getting up the ladders and through the hoops.</div>
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It gave me hope that little by little, step by step, I would be able to get through this too.</div>
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So many smiles and leaps and life! I had to smile as I thought about my future surrounded by little people like these.</div>
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They are excited over the littlest things and keep going. They aren't phased by anything for too long. And for their sake, I need to be that way too. I remembered that no matter my sadness I need to keep going, and I CAN be excited. That is what my Daddy would want. My Dad is SUPER. He's raised me to be super too. And I want to be, as a person, mother and wife because I CAN be.</div>
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Driving home from the park, just like on the way there, every song felt like it was from my Dad. The song lyrics were uplifting, hopeful and comforting. And really, those words are immense understatements. But there are no words for moments that fill your heart with the comfort you are desperately seeking. When love pierces you in a way only heavenly help can achieve you feel immensely blessed. Those car rides with sweet songs strengthened me and allowed me to tell my kids truthfully that I was crying "happy tears." </div>
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When we got home my Daddy was gone. But then again, he wasn't. The sky looked like it was on fire. It was amazing. And I couldn't help but think "He's painting the sky for me."</div>
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What a humbling blessing it was to have these experiences that day. I felt cradled and carried. I felt my Dad so close, so near. I am very thankful for this special day in my life. I do still remember it like it was yesterday. And I don't mind. If it was painful, it was equally inspiring and strengthening. I know without a doubt that life goes on. The spirit continues to exist. And I know my Dad is literally smiling over me. And I am smiling too. I am so very, very lucky. Love, Eva</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-32213719050063237912015-01-16T00:46:00.003-07:002015-01-16T00:50:49.034-07:00I Hope You Dance...SammyToday was all about teaching and I'm thankful for that. I'm so glad I get to see my kids grow. It's not always easy. It's quick! All I had was my cell phone to snap these moments today! But I HAD to...<br />
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Sammy hasn't come to dance with me for months, but we decided to try it again today and he joined in for about half of class. Just seeing him smiling and twirling that ribbon was worth it! <br />
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It was worth being there for him during the times he didn't want to dance to be able to see him when he did want to dance. Sometimes waiting is the price for enjoying a victory. <br />
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Sophia was glowing in class today too. She shared her lift-the-flap art and was so happy. I have to enjoy these moments because they don't last forever. <br />
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And not because they are growing up, though that is happening way too fast too. It's because by dinner time they are exhausted and tired and we are all ready for it to be bedtime. ;)<br />
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Seriously though, days like this are all a parent wishes for their child. We long to see them being BRAVE, trying something NEW...GLOWING. And I got to see that, today. <br />
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I hope they keep going, keep trying...keep dancing. And I will be there for them every step of the way.<br />
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Love,<br />
EvaUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-4043679470963497272015-01-04T16:46:00.000-07:002015-01-04T16:46:17.029-07:00Melting Down and Standing Back Up Again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We went to a holiday arts activity at WSU last month and even though they are smiling here, it was not all fun. My little Sophia had a "moment." I like to call it this because really, we ALL have them. "Moments." Adults may gossip when they are frustrated. Maybe it means venting on Facebook or indulging in that quart of ice cream. We all have our own ways of throwing "acceptable" tantrums in society. But for her poor little body and overstimulated brain a "moment" means completely falling apart at those ever fragile seams. "I don't know what to do!" "They're looking at me!" "I just want to give up!" These are some of the things she yells and it is heartbreaking. I hurry her away from the other kids who are looking scared, and tell Michael to keep an eye on his brother, then she collapses in the corner.<br />
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I try to hold her but she won't let me. How can this sweet little face not want me to hug her? How can this social sparrow feel like "there's too many people in the room"? How can the same little hands that drew this bunny and Christmas tree now be clenched in fists, as she sits on the cold floor, sobbing?<br />
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I take a deep, slow breath and demand she does too. I don't want her feeling like this, like she's a failure. I won't let her. She refuses. Then she agrees to try the breathing but does it fast and quick to get it over with. So much for that. So we go through the next steps. Rest. Water. Food. Processing mentally. Luckily the WSU Art Department had a great array of snacks and bottled water. First I convince her to drink some water. Then I manage to split a banana with her. I take a bite and then she will, back and forth back and forth as we both sit on the linoleum, criss-cross applesauce. I keep an eye on my other two at a distance, grateful they are behaving and we have some friends from the ward who are here as volunteers to help keep an eye on them. </div>
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Then Sophia and I process. We talk about how if she gives up and we leave now we will both feel sad for what she missed. But if she tries again, with help, she will be successful. I have to explain this about 4 times, during which I misunderstand her, accidentally finish off the banana and she is in tears again. I take a few more slow, deep breaths. <br />
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But then something amazing happens. We both stand back up again. And, together, we finish what she started.<br />
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Being a parent is never easy. Neither is being a child. Yet, God has asked us to be both. No one is born able to walk. We try. We fall. And we stand back up again. That is His plan. It is what makes us stronger. Throw a special physical, mental or emotional need in there and things get even trickier. But the victories are also that much sweeter. They really are.<br />
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It is truly humbling to be the mother of my kids. Their challenges and frustrations bring me to my knees before my Heavenly Father as I ask Him "How am I supposed to handle this?" and I search my heart for answers. I'm grateful not every moment is like this. But I AM grateful these moments are there because they show me we BOTH CAN get up again.<br />
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Love,<br />
Eva<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-54023242773531596902015-01-01T23:57:00.004-07:002015-01-02T09:35:54.823-07:00Love is EternalI had a really special experience at the temple on the 30th and thought, what better way to start the year than document it. I was in the Celestial Room and really hoping I could feel my Dad close. But I didn't. It had been so hard to make it to the temple that day, the kids acting up more than usual, my patience shorter than usual...I wanted all the efforts to feel worth it. <br />
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Then as I looked around the room I noticed a design on the walls, all over the walls, wrapping around the room. It looked like the wheat in the Egyptian art Daddy used to buy me in junior high that I LOVED. And I realized he is ALWAYS around me, all around me. He is always there, loving me, looking down on me. I just need to be willing to see it and feel it.<br />
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My mom found this book that really helped her cope with missing my Dad. It's called "Wherever You Are." It talks about feeling love from someone no matter where you are. I read it to my kids tonight and then noticed this sweet picture on my little Michael's bulletin board.<br />
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Love really does go on and on. It was in my Dad as he held his first grandson, named for him. It's been taught to Michael by me, my Dad's daughter. And Michael uses it now to care for his little brother. Although there was a moment in the kitchen on New Year's eve when I had to stand still for a moment and lean on the wall for support, as my chest hurt, literally in pain as it hit me hard that for the first time I was starting the year without my Dad here to talk to and hug, I know DEEP down inside that his love still exists. It exists all around me and deep inside me, and that's because he still exists. His love for me is as real as it ever has been and I still feel it just like when he was alive, and that's because his spirit still lives.<br />
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I'm so thankful I know that. It's a great way to start this year.<br />
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Love,<br />
Eva<br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-89642567571434193452014-12-31T10:33:00.000-07:002014-12-31T10:33:08.374-07:00Moving On...WithinIt's a little belated to be sharing this, but I wanted to make sure it was here since I've spent a lot of time writing here about my Dad. Here was my TBT and Facebook status on Christmas...and some closure...well, at least as much as is humanly possible when your heart is still open...<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">TBT My first Christmas ever... Today was my first Christmas without getting to kiss my Daddy on the cheek. I still miss him, but there were no tears today. Just a happy Christmas as I felt him near me, like that first Christmas many years ago. Families are forever. More than ever before I am thankful for the birth of a perfect baby boy that would make eternal families possible. Thank you Heavenly </span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Father for sharing your Son and thank you Jesus Christ for sharing your gift of love with the world. And thank you Daddy for sharing that gift with me. This was the first scripture he ever memorized and he quoted it often to me. I quote it tonight:</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">"For God so loved, the world that he gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. " John 3:16</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"> </span><br />
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">This was my status a few days later...</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Love goes on. People might have to leave us for a while. Others are still with us and need our love even more. This was the first Christmas I had a "widow" to look after. She may be my mom, but regardless of that I hope to treat her with the same care and concern President Monson had as he looked after the widows in his ward when he was a Bishop. They need us. And we need them, because they have so much strength, wisdom and love to share too. I am so grateful my kids and I have my mother.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">And finally, no picture, but today's status...</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">Sometimes at the end of the year I can start feeling discouraged- there are bound to be quite a few things on my to-do list that didn't get done! And even though another brand new year is starting, that thought doesn't help me too much. </span><i class="_4-k1 img sp_5Em_GKHOCoP sx_984323" style="background-color: white; background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yg/r/N74Yz5v6w2Z.png); background-position: 0px -8088px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: auto; color: #141823; display: inline-block; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; height: 16px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"> What does help me is thinking of my Heavenly Father's To-Do list for me and realizing I haven't made much progress on MY own list because I've been working so hard on HIS- and that IS the first thing on my list, even if I didn't move very f</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">ar beyond it.<i class="_4-k1 img sp_5Em_GKHOCoP sx_984323" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yg/r/N74Yz5v6w2Z.png); background-position: 0px -8088px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i> I may not have been performing at firesides, but I was home for my kids at night and available when they had a bad dream or wanted to cuddle. I may not have gone on any really fancy vacations, but I paid my tithes and offerings and was able to help some people in need- and we had a great family vacation to visit more family! I only made it through 1 novel, but I did read my scriptures regularly and 100's of kids' books in the mornings, afternoons and bedtimes. I may not have recorded 1 song, but I did record countless moments with my kids, encouraging them and helping them know they are important. I may not have a blog with hundreds of readers, but I am doing my best to be a good friend to those I know and an influence for good in my own circles and online where I can. I didn't run a half marathon, but I ran a 5k with both my mother and daughter, and then another with my sons in tow too. I may not be teaching thousands through a published self-help book yet, but I am teaching Sunday School, and Dance/Theater/Writing/Nature Studies to kids and hopefully inspiring them to embrace life! I AM THANKFUL my Heavenly Father trusts so many wonderful responsibilities to me. It's been a wonderful year, and I know the best is yet to come. <i class="_4-k1 img sp_5Em_GKHOCoP sx_f96a5c" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yg/r/N74Yz5v6w2Z.png); background-position: 0px -7850px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">This past year has definitely been a journey...of loss, of redemption, of hope. Thanks for being a part of it!</span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Love,</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Eva</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-68751987678874561862014-12-28T00:25:00.000-07:002014-12-28T10:25:15.282-07:00Bedtime Blues with a Happy RefrainTonight, as I was getting the kids to bed 3 HOURS PAST their bedtime, I was feeling kind of burned out. It's been a great holiday visiting with family and now the tiredness for the kids and entitlement after having so many "fun days" is kicking in. As I replaced sheets on a bed that had been wet the night before (I thought we were over this!) and filled sippy cups I was feeling agitated about every little thing and very unsuccessful at this profession called "Mommyhood." Was there REALLY a silver lining right now, in this moment in time? I wondered. But then as I went to each of my children's beds to say good night, I came upon my Sammy. He was already sound asleep, his stuffed Angry Bird under his arm. He looked like an angel, peacefully resting. All I could say to myself was "If this little boy could fall asleep so calmly and look so content, you must be doing something right." To all the moms out there hanging on by a thread at times, I promise you ARE doing something right. Because if you care enough to wonder if you are being a good mom, then you CARE ENOUGH. And that care is what your kids need most of all.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-51940935298991766802014-11-14T18:04:00.000-07:002014-11-14T18:20:02.956-07:00Connecting & Crying With Laura Ingalls WilderYesterday I found a kindred spirit who also loved her bearded, Papa. Someday I will write here daily and make entire posts out of the "aha moments" I scratch down on random slips of paper or my mental chalkboard. But till then, it's when I make the time and for this I AM making the time. It seems fitting that yesterday of all days this happened, the same day I had just taught my own Creative Writing students about the impact of writing. I explained how some don't believe the author to be the author of the book. Instead, the reader is the author because they are going to interpret the story their own way. What might be meaningless to one person might be brilliant to someone else because it connects with them differently. Last night, I had a connection. Here is my journal entry about it...<br />
<br />
<i class="_4-k1 img sp_CHjQ01Xff48 sx_0fc05f" style="background-color: white; background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yu/r/Vz2DDr8B8FU.png); background-position: 0px -7863px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: auto; color: #141823; display: inline-block; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; height: 16px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">I was really blubbering tonight (have been a lot lately) but how could I not lose it while listening to this violin (that could have been part of a Civil War reenactment) play Auld Lang Syne and while reading these words: She looked at Pa sitting on the bench near the hearth, the firelight gleaming on his brown hair and beard and glistening on the honey-brown fiddle. She looked at Ma, gently rocking and knitting. She thought to herself, 'This is now.' She was glad that the cozy house, and Pa and Ma and the firelight and the music, were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago." </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">You can watch the video here...</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iTEFeKESCmY&list=PL9912A544D3A8353C">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iTEFeKESCmY&list=PL9912A544D3A8353C</a></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">The kids rushed in and gave me hugs, and asked why I was sad. And I was honest. "I miss my Dad." I don't know how to not miss my Dad. That's like asking someone not to miss the stars, or the majesty of colors in a sunset. It's asking someone not to miss the safest, warmest love they've ever known, because a Father's love is like no other. We're coming up on our first Thanksgiving without him here sitting with us. Last Thanksgiving was the final time my whole family was together, and my emotions are constantly just under the surface. And though I know he is doing greater things now than I can possibly imagine, and that I will see him again some magnificent day, the daddy's-little-girl side of me wants him visibly here, right now. It will be a year at the end of January since he passed. A year that I have not had his green eyes to stare into. A year that my daughter has not had the chance to play and pull on his beard and see him smile. Or see my son just rest next to him in bed, reading him books. I'm grateful he's not bedridden anymore, but he's so painfully missed some days. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">The other night my Michael came out from his bed crying terribly, saying he missed Grandpa. That's when your own faith is tested, when you have to explain on the spot what you believe is true and why it keeps you going. Because it does. It really does keep you going and keep you strong. And yet, there is still a touch or sometime a monsoon of sadness in a moment, because you were so lucky to have someone so precious, and then in a breath have them gone for a while. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinvuZZLWw-dDkRH3AsDygk15vGvONLoQSXAexgMNbKlkx8rNXysjIm-Lt10Braa0_gb-WyDm26da1Qa4VwQmhojx9jm6gjIMyjwgtim5TMkc7UUADxC06OpEOP_Vv3JBIp29gYV3aiAM-n/s1600/Daddy+and+Eva.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinvuZZLWw-dDkRH3AsDygk15vGvONLoQSXAexgMNbKlkx8rNXysjIm-Lt10Braa0_gb-WyDm26da1Qa4VwQmhojx9jm6gjIMyjwgtim5TMkc7UUADxC06OpEOP_Vv3JBIp29gYV3aiAM-n/s1600/Daddy+and+Eva.jpg" height="640" width="494" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">One of my favorite album pages of us</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">"Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? " No. I will remember him. I will remember him fiercely, and keep his memory alive and wonderful for my kids. That is the easy part. Just like Laura Ingalls Wilder put it, I have had so many gleaming, glistening, cozy "nows" with my childhood family, and then my good husband added in and then my sweet kids too. And I know we will make more all together some day, in a new, beautiful place. Till then, I will remember his brown hair and beard. I will remember his Civil War music, and relish the fact that my kids love the simple violin with it's free melodies too. I will hold my mom extra close on the days she wears the sweater she knit for my Dad. And I will think to myself each day "This is now." And I will make it a "Now" worth remembering.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"> </span> </div>
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Love, Eva</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-45147680555303963632014-08-31T00:02:00.003-06:002014-08-31T00:03:33.620-06:00"30 Memories of Daddy"My Dad would have turned 55 last Monday if he were still living. It's amazing how much peace and calm you can feel when you know someone has lived an incredible, worth-while life and that they are continuing to do great things in the next chapter of existence.<br />
<br />
7 years ago my sisters and I collaborated on a birthday present for Dad called, 30 Memories of Daddy. Even with his illness he worked hard interviewing, scanning pictures and slowly typing up histories of his parents. The Mom Book and The Dad Book were the fruits of those labors, so we decided he needed his own book. Each of us contributed 10 memories or lessons we learned from Dad. Here are mine...<br />
<br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Dear Daddy,</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Happy 48<sup>th</sup>
Birthday! Thank you for spending it in my boring apartment, so I
could enjoy your sweet company on your special day. I'm honored! :)
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Since this will be the
first year your 3 girls are out of the house, I thought I'd share
with you some lessons you're taught me through the years and reflect
on some especially wonderful moments. You've definitely been one of
the key people in helping me grow my roots and wings. I wanted to
make sure you knew...</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ol>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Two of the
greatest lessons you've taught me were when I was only 5 years old,
but I still use them daily. One is that we don't have to correct
others when we notice they've done something wrong. If you hadn't
taught me this, I probably wouldn't have had many friends. Instead,
you encouraged a sensitive, encouraging, humble attitude towards
learning. Your influence has made me a better teacher.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I also remember
you telling me that teachers make mistakes and that there would even
be times I would be smarter than the teacher. This idea pushed back
the limits that educators, friends, or even I had previously set for
myself. I felt empowered. Thank you for erasing those boundaries
and always sitting in the front row of my education, emotional
growth, and life's performances.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One of the
favorite nights of my life will always be the Civil War Ball. I
didn't have the fanciest dress and I didn't know all the traditions
or historical customs the other girls did, but I felt like the
luckiest one there. You helped me have fun. Your lighthearted
attitude, the way you spun me as fast as you could around and
through the other dancers, it all helped me feel confident and
classy. Everything about that night was magical and comfortable at
the same time. I guess that's how I'd define a true, loving
father-daughter relationship: magical and comfortable at the same
time. Safe but still rushing- like being thrown into the air so
high but always having the safety of strong arms to land in and hold
you. Thank you for that night and for twirling me every day of my
life.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I wish that I
could take credit for being a high achiever. But now that I've been
on my own, I know that I don't naturally accomplish a lot without
proper motivation (i.e. the grade, award, public recognition, a
scoop of Baskin Robbin's ice cream...) Thanks for helping me set
high goals, not because I needed to compete with others, but because
I was capable of reaching that high. You have <u>always</u> been a
great example of living life to its fullest.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Books are our
friends.” If I ever do get published, become famous and have a
blog people read regularly, I know this quote from you will be on my
homepage. From how to physically treat them to how to absorb their
knowledge, you have been an example of respecting and seeking out
truth. Thank you for this priceless gift.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You helped me find
my femininity without losing a sense of adventure and play. Thank
you for helping me see how these two sides intertwine. From the
Roll-up game to wearing appropriate clothes to church, you showed
that there is a time and a place for everything and helped me see
the difference.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Another moment
I'll eternally be grateful that you were there beside me was when I
missed my flight to SVU. I was so scared. Life was ready to keep
moving, but I wasn't. Thank you for helping me “stick with the
plan” that eventually led me to my wonderful, sweet husband. For
that act alone, I owe you all my happiness.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It may sound
funny, but thank you for respecting animals and teaching me to do
the same. Whenever I saw people squishing ants or torturing worms, I
knew you wouldn't agree with their actions because you saw all of
God's creations as having value (even the mosquitoes in Bolivia.)
It's funny, but that little truth affected my decisions of whom I
dated. If a guy thought messing with animals was funny, he was not
for me, because I knew you wouldn't do that.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Without you I
might never have listened to Queen, Elton John, Fleetwood Mac,
Kansas, Boston, John Taylor, or Cat Stevens. I probably would not
appreciate Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Without you I may have
gone my entire life without reading The Hobbit or Marvin K. Mooney
Will You Please Go Now? If you hadn't been my Dad, I might never
have learned about Mole Day. Thank you for opening my eyes to so
much good stuff.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I think the most
important lesson you've taught me is to never make the same mistake
twice. Learn from it. Change. And keep trying. I remember the
first school report I lost to the abyss of accidentally deleted
computer files. I remember sitting on the edge of your bed in
tears, looking at the blank computer screen as you explained why I
needed to save more often. You said the report would be easier to
write the second time (which it was) and that I hopefully wouldn't
let it happen again (I haven't.)</div>
</li>
</ol>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was in that same
spot on the edge of the bed that we watched each other play Tetris, I
saw you studying for school and when you once spoke to me about
making decisions. That year Halloween fell on Sunday. You said you
had taught me right from wrong and had let out a little bit of rope
that couldn't be taken back. Even though I didn't like it, it was my
turn to decide how to spend the holiday. I knew you respected me
because you let me make my own decision.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Many times since then
I've figuratively sat on the bed of indecision, weighing the
arguments of both sides, trying to choose. Thank you for teaching me
all you could and helping me learn how to teach myself. Thanks to
you, I'm never perched too long. I've been given the tools I need
for this life. You've taught me, encouraged me, strengthened me and
I know that no matter what, you'll always walk beside me.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I love you forever.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Happy, Happy Birthday!</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love, #1</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
(We enjoyed watching Star Trek: The Next Generation together, so that's where the #1 reference comes from.)</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Oh, Daddy, how you are missed! But you are also so sweetly remembered. I could easily write another 10 memories right now, and maybe sometime soon I will so I can always remember who I come from and my children can know you too. Keep on having adventures and someday we will join you and make more memories together.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Love,</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Eva </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-51568389143434542014-07-25T00:35:00.001-06:002014-07-25T10:28:09.286-06:00More Than Special<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_L3rZcRn2m8ClA_oPTlEBpBkr6o-TgZsXZtnC1GvTejZ2RmNvtQQmbkJMpzkJXx8zdUF1q_3O2BM8VmIJ8sVKbDGRHrwstI03EudSDbVJejNC9ydxC0yrt-YLDpv41Xx5pzdcrtsE7g2i/s1600/IMG_1188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_L3rZcRn2m8ClA_oPTlEBpBkr6o-TgZsXZtnC1GvTejZ2RmNvtQQmbkJMpzkJXx8zdUF1q_3O2BM8VmIJ8sVKbDGRHrwstI03EudSDbVJejNC9ydxC0yrt-YLDpv41Xx5pzdcrtsE7g2i/s1600/IMG_1188.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This is my daughter, Sophia. At first glance people don't know she's been diagnosed with ADHD, Oppositional-Defiant Disorder, and High-functioning Aspergers. It's hard for me to even type those words because that's not what I see when I look at her either. I see a vibrant, artistic, smart, caring, creative, sometimes crazy-loud & other times overwhelmingly shy, silly, thoughtful, beautiful, Christ-like child of God. I know she's not perfect. She's my daughter, so just like she's seen the worst of me, I've seen the worst of her. But her "worse" is innocent, trying, frustrated, confused and yet still, her best in that moment of challenge. And I'm so proud of her for trying everyday to fit in to this square world when she is a star. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
She did these art projects this week completely all on her own- no prompting from me...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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Half of them she made because she loves art. The other half she made because she loves me. She wanted to cheer me up. I can't think of anything more sweet or selfless for someone to do than take the time to create a piece of art out of their own creativity and with their own hands, just to help someone else feel happier. <br />
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Yes, she may not always be socially on target. She may not completely understand personal boundaries. And we are still working on getting through the tired afternoon without a tantrum. But she IS my sunshine. She IS a joy. She remembers stories I told her years ago with amazing detail, makes up songs while we drive to the grocery store and sees beauty in the simplest things. </div>
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She fills me with wonder every day. </div>
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It is a privilege to be the parent of a Special Needs child. Some people who know me and Sophia may not think we fit in this category, but you don't know the things we struggle with behind closed doors. Still, I would not be as strong or patient without her in my life. She understands I get tired some days of the distractions that keep her from brushing her teeth even though I've been reminding her every minute for the past 10. She knows I get frustrated and feel like an inadequate mom when I've put her to bed at 8:30 and she's still up 3 hours later. And she may have ended up crying (loudly) at day camp this week because she couldn't make a Loch ness Monster out of beads as "perfect" as she wanted it to be.</div>
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But she also knows how to help. She also understands that taking care of peoples' feelings is important. When she prays she asks that our family can have help choosing the right and having the Holy Ghost in our home. When she is her best self she cleans my room and decorates it for me with streamers, art and her favorite stuffed animals. She holds me extra long when we hug and loves looking at the freckles scattered across my cheeks. </div>
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And, I love looking at hers. I love her. I am so thankful she is in my life and I am lucky to call her mine. Like anyone with a Special Needs child knows, "Special Needs" simultaneously is and isn't what they are. Because they are so much MORE than a label or acronym. </div>
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And yet, they are definitely, gloriously, special. </div>
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Love, Eva </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-87711833554652635752014-07-22T01:00:00.000-06:002014-07-22T01:00:13.222-06:00Fleeting Summer Moments<div style="text-align: center;">
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My little Sophia had been asking me for a while to set up a pool in the backyard. I said we would but, busy with so many other errands & tasks, I wasn't sure when. She continued to ask & I continued to say I would get to it...eventually, when I had the time. </div>
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Then one day, I saw this...</div>
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When I asked her what it was, she told me it was a pool. She was done building it & she was about to fill it with water. With a careful smile I tenderly explained that her design would mean a really muddy pool, that went up to her ankles.</div>
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But, realizing this was something that was really important to her & was going to happen SOME way or another, I went and got a kiddie pool. Just look at her excitement...</div>
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As they played I couldn't help but notice this adorable, zippity, little bird.</div>
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I enjoyed watching him stomp over and snack on the bird seed I left on the fence for him</div>
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Then, in just a few moments of quick pecking, he was gone.</div>
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That is exactly how I view the time I have with my children. So quick, energetic, vibrant & soon to be gone before I even realize it. So I need to enjoy them. I need to stop what I'm doing sometimes and just be "present." That is the only real "need," precious time together TOGETHER. </div>
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And, who wouldn't want to enjoy these sweet, fleeting summer moments? Once I recognized the dishes could wait & the laundry wasn't going anywhere, I just sat back & enjoyed the view. Then all I wanted to do was sit & stare & snap photos of these excited cuties!</div>
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And yes, I even enjoyed watching our dog chew on a stick to his complete delight!</div>
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That tongue! LOL</div>
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My birdie friend returned & then fled quickly away again...</div>
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So I was reminded again to focus on my playing children, because they are growing TOO fast. Soon summer days like this one, with a spunky 8 year-old girl, silly 3 year-old son, and fun 6 year-old son will have disappeared...just like that little girl.</div>
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They really relish the moments they have together, as they learn new ways to play, laugh and explore this world.</div>
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And I want to too. I want to just stop & really live & enjoy each precious day more.</div>
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The cute ones...</div>
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The silly ones...</div>
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The fleeting ones...</div>
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOaoxvTl6psAA8ll566mCk4cuHd1cbQZhyE1k6z5JVZP5tiRAN6WPeGFMnWpwoGFXbPKpyH-Uo_REEeciQ-F3Vvb6OV0ikbjN3JVd17syFYSkhOHkofx6w1eRmLJAIOsa77Rtg62XvVMbg/s1600/IMG_0691.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></div>
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Because I know my little ones will be grown and gone before I know it.</div>
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And I don't want to miss a thing. Love, Eva</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-85163638753285426372014-07-19T23:53:00.000-06:002014-07-19T23:53:37.306-06:00This Is Why We Do Hard Things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I'm going to let the pictures tell this story...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnyZuFVMn9jH0FQwBGdDDDT64L1AzSABab_xnaBvNzX_PJ75e5p2gHZTQKFn9FwqiTi5sL6inwt60px5SyHwne-PqB8iuLbvOtv9Ej5ZK94hj7AmR7dIMUHyMjhSO-b4yRwBUqLk63LZQ/s1600/IMG_9074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnyZuFVMn9jH0FQwBGdDDDT64L1AzSABab_xnaBvNzX_PJ75e5p2gHZTQKFn9FwqiTi5sL6inwt60px5SyHwne-PqB8iuLbvOtv9Ej5ZK94hj7AmR7dIMUHyMjhSO-b4yRwBUqLk63LZQ/s1600/IMG_9074.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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(Imagine Sophia singing her own theme music here.)</div>
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(Looking down while whispering "Almost there.")</div>
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"I'm Queen of the world! I'm Queen of the world!!!!" </div>
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Doing it for a second time!</div>
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After seeing Sophia, Sammy decided to climb his own mountain...</div>
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...and did it!</div>
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So did Michael.</div>
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Then they climbed one together.</div>
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This is why we do hard things. This is why we don't give up. This is why we keep going even when there's a risk of falling. This is why we leap even when we aren't sure of our footing. It's so that at the end of all the uncertainty & fear, when we've finally made it to the top, we can celebrate and shout at the top of our lungs like Sophia did, "I'm Queen of the WORLD!" It's so we can feel alive! It's so we can feel the rush of excitement that only comes from moments like when we finally learn how to ride that bike or complete a piroutte, moments that are fewer and farther between as we grow older. This is one reason I'm so grateful for children. These pictures are unedited, pure, victorious joy. And that joy is contagious. It's the reason why after Sophia climbed her mountain, Sammy & Michael climbed theirs. And it's why I keep climbing every day too.</div>
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Love, Eva</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-57482749731773979652014-07-17T23:58:00.004-06:002014-07-17T23:58:40.618-06:00Frailty: Our Most Beautiful MomentsI had a serious conversation with my mom today. We lost my father to a degenerative disease in January, and miss him dearly every day. EVERY day. During the past year my aunt, the sister my mom is closest to, has also been battling disease, cancer that has spread through out her body. She lives in Bolivia where the medicine is very limited. It takes 2 bus rides and a 6 hour wait to get pain relief medication that will last for 2 days. We heard today she is no longer eating and medicine that used to mute the pain for 4 hours now only has an effect for 1. <div>
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She is in and out of consciousness. We expect she does not have much longer here on this earth. My aunt has 2 young kids, ages 10 and 4. It's hard to think of that four year old little girl not knowing the wonderful woman my aunt is. I struggle with the idea of my aunt not being there for her son's mission farewell or wedding. I only remember the little time I had with her when we were in Bolivia when I was 10, but she was a riot! Always joking. Always smiling. So encouraging. I see pictures of her still smiling, a cap covering a head that will never grow hair again, in this life. </div>
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These situations aren't fair. They aren't. It's not fair that my mother is losing two of her closest family members this year. It's not fair that so many people who want to live, can't. But there is still beauty in these moments of frailty. I imagine my aunt, barely speaking now, still sharing parting wishes. She's asking her husband to look after her sisters. Reminding him to make sure they are OK. She is in this diminished, pain-filled, weak capacity and yet she is still strong in the soul, thinking of others. </div>
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Those of us who get to witness such selflessness are viewing a window into heaven. There is no other word for it, but heavenly. I am honored to call tia Claudia my aunt and I know she will make a beautiful angel. Right now though, she is a beautiful mother, wife, sister and aunt. And even so many miles away from me, I am thinking of her and her example of love fills my heart. I am proud of her. I am praying for her. And I am thankful for the magnificence she is bringing to this world with her simple, beautiful soul.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-7344895644151885532014-07-16T06:30:00.000-06:002014-07-16T08:02:28.206-06:00The Secret to a Sweet Family Life? Just Add Lots of Frosting!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM07O7kq-3JMen99zs4LQ5bqOTD9lNJxsksMs-upZAYcdXwubghs0MN2XtQoNY0AoJWjbcXKceguaQz3Gf_nSgSi_HtXsgpSkQbQgyAE0INJU6gGKEzUzTh4hsvmCJ3oniUKhmhUTTU7ZX/s1600/IMG_9919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM07O7kq-3JMen99zs4LQ5bqOTD9lNJxsksMs-upZAYcdXwubghs0MN2XtQoNY0AoJWjbcXKceguaQz3Gf_nSgSi_HtXsgpSkQbQgyAE0INJU6gGKEzUzTh4hsvmCJ3oniUKhmhUTTU7ZX/s1600/IMG_9919.JPG" height="428" width="640" /></a></div>
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I had pictures of this cake before frosting it, but now I can't find them. Let me say though, they weren't pretty! Not that the finished product is a work of art either (although I think it appropriately represents the chaos and fun of having 3 young children.) But before the cake was a DISASTER! I couldn't remember if I was supposed to let the cake cool first or try to flip it out of the pan while it was still hot. I decided to try while it was still hot, and I ended up with a hot mess!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaXzY-piLv0TFhXpOqH8EM00Ieg3wlCwoKLPj3tPY3yU6PAMrqsRYWyQYydvghpYRydLiXubdcQsyifV7uKL5avFsjkuKIA4zEFdzE-CUwRu0mXa3b1kfTKumSwoL5LIa1sTj54i1hOzGC/s1600/IMG_9921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaXzY-piLv0TFhXpOqH8EM00Ieg3wlCwoKLPj3tPY3yU6PAMrqsRYWyQYydvghpYRydLiXubdcQsyifV7uKL5avFsjkuKIA4zEFdzE-CUwRu0mXa3b1kfTKumSwoL5LIa1sTj54i1hOzGC/s1600/IMG_9921.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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The cake was in three, crumbly, odd-shaped pieces. My husband walked in and smiled. Probably partly because he had burned the pork chops that were supposed to be our anniversary dinner. </div>
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Now it was my turn to be in the kitchen with my tail between my legs.</div>
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<b>"Don't worry! I can fix it," I said. "I'll just add lots of frosting!"</b></div>
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Ricky Ricardo actually said the same thing in an "I Love Lucy" episode where he and Fred took on the housekeeping and cooking roles for a day. My cake wasn't quite as flat as Fred's, but it still definitely needed some help to get pieced back together...</div>
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and LOTS of frosting.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDXHde4WqCPM0xh6WM5Wes3OMntoRI_XqfaTpTQjfbDXll29liMF5zBqE9NFC84v9kbRmSAptWoGsfaoDYnxZl1eyJaMJZkkgL_NYIfR5-p9NTLrZc76QJSBp0kETgAU_K9zBBJQIu_7La/s1600/IMG_9923.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDXHde4WqCPM0xh6WM5Wes3OMntoRI_XqfaTpTQjfbDXll29liMF5zBqE9NFC84v9kbRmSAptWoGsfaoDYnxZl1eyJaMJZkkgL_NYIfR5-p9NTLrZc76QJSBp0kETgAU_K9zBBJQIu_7La/s1600/IMG_9923.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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I couldn't help but think about that as I worked on getting it ready for our family anniversary celebration. There have definitely been moments when I felt like our lives were just as unstable as that cake. That everything was crumbling, falling to pieces, and not turning out at all how I'd planned. There were days (my friends really know) that I just wanted to give up and throw everything I'd worked on, this shaping of a family, away. </div>
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Just like there was a moment I thought about tossing that cake out too!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6s10ocJxQqa9PpdOWaxP6jJQUY1PVxxLJ2ZVjVB7say6nz4I6-j7nN1zYi38I9SDl_ShCGQhQYFgkhvFJ75hsu6yr5cTZVRIR2i_COPzEx3qY0e0TssiVT1NJORMaBEFSTrc963_1da7/s1600/IMG_9931.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6s10ocJxQqa9PpdOWaxP6jJQUY1PVxxLJ2ZVjVB7say6nz4I6-j7nN1zYi38I9SDl_ShCGQhQYFgkhvFJ75hsu6yr5cTZVRIR2i_COPzEx3qY0e0TssiVT1NJORMaBEFSTrc963_1da7/s1600/IMG_9931.JPG" height="430" width="640" /></a></div>
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But then I thought about my kids. I thought about how much they were counting on me. I thought about how much they wanted to enjoy these moments together. I thought about how much we had worked for and what we had to look forward to.</div>
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And I couldn't give up. </div>
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I couldn't ever believe in giving up on them or on me or on that cake! <b>When we are breaking down all we've ever needed was more frosting. More sweetness in life. More love. More kisses. More caring. More cutting loose and letting go. More laughter and fun. All of these things smooth over the gaps from our lack of understanding each other. It hides the messes we are as imperfect, selfish people and helps us enjoy our experiences together more fully. This "frosting" of life is the crazy, passionate, love that looks at a crumbly mess and gives it all it has to make it a beautiful, delicious, treat.</b></div>
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I am proud to say we have definitely worked hard and EARNED this badge of 10 years of marriage. 10 years of forgiving. 10 years of compromising. 10 years of laughing. 10 years of sacrificing. 10 years of sharing. 10 years of learning to put the other, and then 3 others, first.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjucz3GXxmZHacfjDAtJ0Ip136Je8RqcBgZKHgjavkrBiji6fYywpJOZEJ7Zbolg8ZoVuiOumQzx91LVDvHe2SNerYOIDU8STjd0Yf4HSYFr7e_iD5ZHXn1W4SgrWXlD0OTvNN6jSGWcQGi/s1600/IMG_9941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjucz3GXxmZHacfjDAtJ0Ip136Je8RqcBgZKHgjavkrBiji6fYywpJOZEJ7Zbolg8ZoVuiOumQzx91LVDvHe2SNerYOIDU8STjd0Yf4HSYFr7e_iD5ZHXn1W4SgrWXlD0OTvNN6jSGWcQGi/s1600/IMG_9941.JPG" height="406" width="640" /></a></div>
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10 years of living with our hearts wide open and vulnerable, because that is what true love is.</div>
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And it has been a wonderful 10 years. Worth celebrating, recognizing and sharing with our children.</div>
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I love reliving this cake-feeding-wedding moment each year. Look at the expression on Sam's face. It's precious. It's priceless. It's what the security and joy of our marriage has created. We aren't perfect at it. But with enough "frosting", it's enough. </div>
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It's enough for him.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJBcynJJxF9HzTNWGdna_ez5NpHvGfjlhv6j5bCIn8gEzCVtx6R_35FNE88Vq4dCYnIfeoi6aaOOkei-jC16chFx1EMqAR-CSKBwDguW3CZOOUb-sLP5OHhssv6SV3s66z2Bq7zDG13KiL/s1600/IMG_9945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJBcynJJxF9HzTNWGdna_ez5NpHvGfjlhv6j5bCIn8gEzCVtx6R_35FNE88Vq4dCYnIfeoi6aaOOkei-jC16chFx1EMqAR-CSKBwDguW3CZOOUb-sLP5OHhssv6SV3s66z2Bq7zDG13KiL/s1600/IMG_9945.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Look at Michael's smile. His cheeks are bursting he's so happy.</div>
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And my Sophia. I hope more than anything that I am showing her that even though choosing to have a family means ups and downs, means putting others first, it also means a LOT of happiness.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNSQSHzmARR1g3uJPHAc3nZKUQ-HXt38BsjJEKJMcGigiHore9ryIt7lvzAaciOWdn7lC-3sK_uLVMNfinhftgupnWIXvTOTObOSeqSPVRBL93-Q-L1cgWz6knt5tZpwospSBlcYcVVuu/s1600/IMG_9948.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBNSQSHzmARR1g3uJPHAc3nZKUQ-HXt38BsjJEKJMcGigiHore9ryIt7lvzAaciOWdn7lC-3sK_uLVMNfinhftgupnWIXvTOTObOSeqSPVRBL93-Q-L1cgWz6knt5tZpwospSBlcYcVVuu/s1600/IMG_9948.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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It's hard to imagine my life any other way. I am so blessed. And it's important I see that. I want my husband to know I am thankful for him. I want my kids to know they are blessings to me. I need to remember how lucky I am, so in those not-so-sweet moments I can choose to show more love. I can give them extra hugs. I can remember sometimes we just need to add LOTS more frosting. Love, Eva</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-12127419447192021452014-07-04T01:35:00.004-06:002014-07-08T22:55:34.716-06:00Mommy Milestones<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Last week, after much asking and asking from puppy-dog eyed children, I agreed on having a family sleepover in our living room. It had already been a very busy week and day, so the late-night fun was conditional on their having good behavior as we ran to a few stores to pick up some snacks and a movie. It sounded so simple, so fun, but considering how exhausted we all were even I knew I was probably asking for too much.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi10oMVYJbth7ATQ8ynONDAHr9aLgymZZxwGHaAQc8dWUVVxFJ89PJq7wz7DMQt1IeI5ZmhYZ6hjDNrq_JW8tH77dIRtlceLzxVgKLC2xhu0XL-IgkFM4jG2d66PIRwYkqNeAPCjsfYT8Ok/s1600/IMG_8379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi10oMVYJbth7ATQ8ynONDAHr9aLgymZZxwGHaAQc8dWUVVxFJ89PJq7wz7DMQt1IeI5ZmhYZ6hjDNrq_JW8tH77dIRtlceLzxVgKLC2xhu0XL-IgkFM4jG2d66PIRwYkqNeAPCjsfYT8Ok/s1600/IMG_8379.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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As we drove, the tiredness of the week caught up with them (and me) and soon the bickering ensued. I don't remember what it was about. I do remember fighting the urge to yell like crazy. I mean, I never actually want to yell but I do want them to listen to me and for the fighting to stop, and screaming that at them for some strange reason sounds like a good idea sometimes. But of course it's not- it's exhausting! It's sad! And I never have energy after that and it's terrible for them. I made a threat about losing the sleepover because if they were this cranky, I didn't want them to be even more cranky the next day. But inside, I wanted so badly for that sleepover to happen! I needed some fun family time! I knew I just couldn't flip out... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnplsP1_u2V07jYyBN11_xnzPV9NiFQLvGUT4Gai5GCEK1obeUJNftWFE47H-g4Va56g0l3e0NQoYNNqjkNr0kWN12fgWogkROlIg0QGOnqpiFWImbpxungRVwpxADi53JPsYwLXelkS1y/s1600/IMG_8343.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnplsP1_u2V07jYyBN11_xnzPV9NiFQLvGUT4Gai5GCEK1obeUJNftWFE47H-g4Va56g0l3e0NQoYNNqjkNr0kWN12fgWogkROlIg0QGOnqpiFWImbpxungRVwpxADi53JPsYwLXelkS1y/s1600/IMG_8343.JPG" height="452" width="640" /></a></div>
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I won't give you the complete play by play of having to stop for gas in the heat, run through two stores with WAY too many toys and candies by the checkouts, and a minor showdown between me and a toddler over defacing a food display, but let's just say we were ready to be home. As they (and I) became annoyed with each other yet again as we hit every red light, I realized with all of our running around in the afternoon they had never had dinner. Whoops. Maybe <i>that</i> had something to do with the stress we were ALL feeling. I started to empathize and see things from their tired, hungry point of view. Then I heard them tickling each other and even that was bothering me for some reason...probably the low blood sugar. As I felt the urge to let off a LOT of steam coming over me again, I made a choice. Instead of rationalizing an explosion, I pulled over. I pulled that hot, cranky van over into a parking lot and parked. I took a few deep breaths. I explained how when they are rough-housing it distracts me, it's not safe and makes it hard for me to drive. Those precious kids, my most valuable loves, apologized and said they understood. That was it. No explosion. Just an explanation and then moving on. Then we went home and had a sleepover!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmuOz9juklvBXS___C7AXiCmsc3q6kfX0ivoSxEn_wPCOcX5kg39JFOr3cS9euYdD23ZWGfgPHGLzLFrZefILcNXxE-HGCNJ0aJMFHPVQ_jX_W0XPcwW-tK1Jf2bycJN5p5L0ThORQdEE7/s1600/IMG_8345.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmuOz9juklvBXS___C7AXiCmsc3q6kfX0ivoSxEn_wPCOcX5kg39JFOr3cS9euYdD23ZWGfgPHGLzLFrZefILcNXxE-HGCNJ0aJMFHPVQ_jX_W0XPcwW-tK1Jf2bycJN5p5L0ThORQdEE7/s1600/IMG_8345.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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And I'm so glad things turned out that way, because if I had given in to the "I'm the mom and that's why!" beast, I would have missed out on this adorable bed Sophia put together for me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWBOwr4udMlgw3i0h5fTUjwlIODlF3P1taIBp82uAS8mTZ344hJRpISsVPzvz5qp-QMgVoTss1LpV2YdGgV6Ga7oEJIoVmU-diV-OCb8nroKZYD7OBRloMhzTm2tdt0GEEIU8HuDh7le8F/s1600/IMG_8347.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWBOwr4udMlgw3i0h5fTUjwlIODlF3P1taIBp82uAS8mTZ344hJRpISsVPzvz5qp-QMgVoTss1LpV2YdGgV6Ga7oEJIoVmU-diV-OCb8nroKZYD7OBRloMhzTm2tdt0GEEIU8HuDh7le8F/s1600/IMG_8347.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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And I wouldn't have heard Sophia say "Mom? Can I read you a story?" This sweet little one who sometimes doesn't think she is a good reader, when she is the grandest storyteller I've ever met.</div>
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I would have missed her beautiful, wild, curls dangling in the light of her Flashlight Friend.</div>
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And her cute little finger trying to keep her place in the dim light.</div>
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We all wouldn't have giggled at Frog and Toad's silliness.</div>
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I would have missed seeing her adorable nose as she looked down to read, </div>
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her vibrant smile,</div>
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and the precious way she holds her tender chin in her palm.</div>
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We wouldn't have all laughed at how it looked like her unicorn was trying to read too.</div>
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Her innocence and curls touch my heart. The child-like wonder of my kids heals my soul.</div>
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I need moments like this.</div>
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They cleanse me. Recharge me. They help me discover new depths and layers to myself.</div>
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They remind me of why I do what I do, and keep trying even when I don't do a good job. And sometimes, I don't. But when I can slow time down and live in the moment, it's rich with beauty. When I can get closer to what's really happening and simultaneously step back and look at the big picture, I am real. I am honest with my kids. I am understanding. I am amazing! I am a powerful force for good. I am a mother and I am proud of who I am and who my kids are.</div>
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And when we do take that higher road in parenting, when we are selfless and put what's important first, it's so important we recognize that. We need to feel proud of ourselves. We don't have cheerleaders. We don't get report cards. There is no paycheck. But it's not needed when these beautiful, organic moments are ours to cradle. These Mommy Milestones make everything worth it, because they remind us WE are all still growing. They show WE are learning. That we are also getting our training wheels off, tying our shoes and starting to master this experience of Motherhood. And we don't only love our kids in that instant for their accomplishments and progress, we love ourselves too. And that achievement helps everyone. Love, Eva</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-59669867930351054462014-06-27T23:57:00.000-06:002014-06-27T23:57:16.462-06:00So Much GoodSomehow, maybe because as a mommy of 3 I'm kind of busy, I went a few weeks without emptying the pictures from my camera. When I finally got around to it I had over 1300 pictures to put on my computer. OVER 1300! I didn't have any photo shoots during this time. There weren't any birthdays. I even intentionally didn't take my camera to a few events. There were just a LOT of GOOD TIMES.<br />
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And in an instant, instead of complaining and thinking "Man, that's a lot of photos to edit!" I found myself thinking "That is so much good." Because that's what those pictures are! Goodness in digital form. All of them! I don't usually photograph the bad, because I remember it too often anyway. I focus on trying to see and remember the good. And as busy, crazy, and stressful life has been lately, it was so awesome to not even have to look at those images and know they were evidence of a good, happy life. A simple life, but a great one.<br />
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It's a life of trying to love others more than myself. It's a life of putting my own pride behind me. It's a life of cleaning the same messes again and again and again. It's days of cooking food that often goes uneaten just to hear five minutes later "Mom, I'm hungry." And it's nights of interrupted sleep, diaper changes and lost valuables, because there is nothing more valuable than a pacifier at 3 A.M.<br />
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But in between those not so glorious moments are treasures. The day is scattered with children's laughter and my own deep, belly laughs. I find myself staring into my sons' rich, chocolate eyes, wondering where he got them, and realizing he's looking into the same ones when he looks into mine. There are sticky kisses and impromptu hugs and moments so good they can't be staged or bought. <br />
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Do I still have my tough days? Yes! I (and my husband) can attest to that.<br />
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But there is so much good. And I have 1300 pictures to prove it.<br />
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Love, EvaUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-81686973162058270502014-06-27T01:45:00.000-06:002014-06-27T01:45:26.193-06:00I Finally Did It!I finally did it!! No, wait...<br />
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I FINALLY DID IT!!!!!!!!!!!<br />
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I've wanted a better organized blog for a LONG time. And finally, through many late nights and chocolate candy bars, I've done it. I'm super happy to be ready to start writing again, sharing thoughts and photos, and keeping things organized in their own blog section. All the positive, inspirational insights my mind stumbles across will be here. Please check out my other blogs listed below for more good stuff too. And spread the word, because we can all use a little lift! Love, Eva<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Old Standard TT'; font-size: 17px; line-height: 23.100000381469727px;">For crafts and other homeschool & educational fun...</span><a href="http://www.happinessishomeschooling.blogspot.com/" style="background-color: white; color: #2eb9ff; font-family: 'Old Standard TT'; font-size: 17px; line-height: 23.100000381469727px; text-decoration: none;">www.happinessishomeschooling.blogspot.com</a><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Just Another Hand'; font-size: 31px; line-height: 43.119998931884766px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Old Standard TT'; font-size: 17px; line-height: 23.100000381469727px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Old Standard TT'; font-size: 17px; line-height: 23.100000381469727px;">You can read about my continuing journey towards health through cleaner eating, better body image thoughts and family exercise ideas here...</span><a href="http://www.veggiefitmama.blogspot.com/" style="background-color: white; color: #2eb9ff; font-family: 'Old Standard TT'; font-size: 17px; line-height: 23.100000381469727px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.veggiefitmama.blogspot.com</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Just Another Hand'; font-size: 18px; line-height: 24.639999389648438px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Old Standard TT'; font-size: 17px; line-height: 23.100000381469727px;"> </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Just Another Hand'; font-size: 31px; line-height: 43.119998931884766px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Old Standard TT'; font-size: 17px; line-height: 23.100000381469727px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Old Standard TT'; font-size: 17px; line-height: 23.100000381469727px;">For ideas on teaching your children about Christ Like my Facebook page LDS Little Ones and check out my blog... </span><a href="http://www.ldslittleones.blogspot.com/" style="background-color: white; color: #2eb9ff; font-family: 'Old Standard TT'; font-size: 17px; line-height: 23.100000381469727px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">www.ldslittleones.blogspot.com</a><br />
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And for other random family fun from trips, holidays or even just-the-mundane-but-still-wonderful-everyday-life visit... <a href="http://www.adventuresofchevaandcompany.blogspot.com/">www.adventuresofchevaandcompany.blogspot.com</a><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Old Standard TT'; font-size: 17px; line-height: 23.100000381469727px;">I love taking family portraits and have been busy at it for the past 3 years. You can see my work, client reviews and modest pricing at </span><a href="http://www.evabarnettphotography.blogspot.com/" style="color: black; font-family: 'Old Standard TT'; font-size: 17px; line-height: 23.100000381469727px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">www.evabarnettphotography.blogspot.com</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Old Standard TT'; font-size: 17px; line-height: 23.100000381469727px;">.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-69473587966047668092013-11-13T22:09:00.000-07:002013-11-13T22:09:20.565-07:00Thankful<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My heart is full after a very special Veteran's day. I'm ashamed to say that many years I did not think about this holiday as much as I should have. I have not had a lot of experience or connections with veterans until recently when I started serving dinner and doing dishes at a local assisted living facility a few nights a week. I've been serving several veterans their mashed potatoes and filling their coffees and getting to know them. I see the pictures on their bulletin boards outside their bedroom doors, pictures of them on ships, in uniform, decades younger and on the brink of life. They've shown me their treasures and knick knacks of supreme sentimental value. I wanted to to do something special as a family to help us recognize these often forgotten heroes who have served us.<br />
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So, I got to work with my finger paint and my kids. We came up with these bald eagle paintings...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXaSyFIKQvMGlfmQj0QCktdPU1fwB9NbL8cynb6dgpwdjVCzK8jEmpjRk9pc1P3jfjdjLW1ioi4y4kKWgWdT09sh37jxkx2_1zT_NYXt0vOcD7nL4ZWpn1zqrfZY1XIyLpcYumNJFATM4B/s1600/IMG_8530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXaSyFIKQvMGlfmQj0QCktdPU1fwB9NbL8cynb6dgpwdjVCzK8jEmpjRk9pc1P3jfjdjLW1ioi4y4kKWgWdT09sh37jxkx2_1zT_NYXt0vOcD7nL4ZWpn1zqrfZY1XIyLpcYumNJFATM4B/s400/IMG_8530.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Using a foot stamp and couple hand stamps and some simple words of thanks...</div>
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And with some smiles, on the evening of Veteran's Day we headed over to hand deliver them. </div>
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Some we posted on bulletin boards...</div>
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Some we hand delivered. </div>
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Because of privacy rules I couldn't take more pictures of them, but in total we handed out 15 Thank Yous, shaking their hands and listening to the stories of those who wished to share them. We met people who served in Vietnam and Japan, through the Navy, Air Force and the Army. It was truly incredible to see them smile. These people who don't often have visitors and have a very simple, repetitive, daily routine were alive again with gratitude themselves by getting a simple "Thank You" from us.</div>
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When one man told us he had also served as a police officer in Ogden for 45 years we told him how Michael wants to be one when he grows up. He then invited us to his room to see a beautiful framed display of items from his time with the force.</div>
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There was a gun tie clip that Michael especially liked, old-fashioned hand-cuffs, paperwork from when he worked for the FBI, his badges and more. I love how beneath it he had taped the flier recognizing and expressing thanks to all the veterans at the home. He had circled his name.<br />
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Before we left he told Sophia that she was beautiful and to remember that. He told Michael that being a police officer was hard work and had done a number to his knees, but he had a lot of adventures too. When Michael asked if he was "the boss" he told him he was the assistant to the chief so he did get to boss some people around. It was so fun and surreal imagining him in the city we live in now, decades ago...</div>
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Although tomorrow will be my last day working at this great place (due to physical pain from the labor involved) I'm so glad I had the opportunity to be here. I've made friends I plan on keeping. Walking those halls keeps things in perspective. I've heard people express that they never thought they would end up "somewhere like this." I've seen their faces light up when they've seen my children and heard them say "they are precious." When we jokingly answered "most of the time" they said "ALL of the time. Treasure them every day." </div>
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I do more now. I treasure the nights I get to be home now and tuck in my kids, even if it means several times on the nights they won't stay in bed. I'm more thankful for legs that walk, eyes that see, teeth that can chew, and a mind that can remember. </div>
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With the help of caregivers the residents created this Gratitude Tree...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXE_4hDAXvjVDpLSi4zMxVFg1oc4YXrsoASyTbKhhp-U7SRQpBd5P9mt7BN8lamI6loGJ3IaH4nv0Q97RzHJ2d-UlfhEQtuJ_WQ-jsr_JjSHrz-FPF26cZcLCVVzeCsNM8_vc2puDrfvvU/s1600/IMG_8549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXE_4hDAXvjVDpLSi4zMxVFg1oc4YXrsoASyTbKhhp-U7SRQpBd5P9mt7BN8lamI6loGJ3IaH4nv0Q97RzHJ2d-UlfhEQtuJ_WQ-jsr_JjSHrz-FPF26cZcLCVVzeCsNM8_vc2puDrfvvU/s400/IMG_8549.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Life. Family. Friends. Freedom. This is what these wise, almost century-old in some cases, people are grateful for. And I am too.</div>
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Love, Eva</div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-38042153259297522722013-11-06T23:00:00.004-07:002013-11-06T23:00:45.024-07:00Just Around The Corner...<div style="text-align: center;">
The other day I came across this scene in my hallway...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi1y5iHymCZGUb75AUWlyObNQWepjVV98BJjgzvD4zr4Ni18jY6FYYI3sWBLGfBeHuUBfnnq0Nc9Nnrwg6lRKLjaYtIWugfxTIUrIGLOsZLk2tvDodNXh3cbmWL_AWl73xbWHJjb4K00vy/s1600/IMG_4551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi1y5iHymCZGUb75AUWlyObNQWepjVV98BJjgzvD4zr4Ni18jY6FYYI3sWBLGfBeHuUBfnnq0Nc9Nnrwg6lRKLjaYtIWugfxTIUrIGLOsZLk2tvDodNXh3cbmWL_AWl73xbWHJjb4K00vy/s400/IMG_4551.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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My immediate mental reaction was "Ugh!" The kids know not to move the kitty food from its spot and not to throw it everywhere, so why did they do this?! No doubt I was already in the middle of cleaning something else, and now had another chore added to my list. </div>
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But before any excessive yelling I decided to investigate a little.</div>
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I walked around the corner and saw this....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_InAifouk6ufjAON8Z0bu8r6V3y-PjyXc3euExYCtzay16ThaRdL6vzD84YNjFtYVBt-ixCXKgKb2lQWDfXjCJt711NYkdsRAasuxQ5JS7VjiiGGGcURB5WSLFspLV_EnwweaUjjOdR0/s1600/IMG_4558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_InAifouk6ufjAON8Z0bu8r6V3y-PjyXc3euExYCtzay16ThaRdL6vzD84YNjFtYVBt-ixCXKgKb2lQWDfXjCJt711NYkdsRAasuxQ5JS7VjiiGGGcURB5WSLFspLV_EnwweaUjjOdR0/s400/IMG_4558.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Yup, Sammy had seen the kitties sleeping on the bed and decided to bring them some food, and snack a little himself too. That's why his cheek is puffy. He loves to "share." Gross, I know. But to a mommy, still pretty-dang adorable!</div>
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Here he is saying "Uh-oh!" because he knows he made a mess on the bed and isn't supposed to be eating the kitty food. Yes, Sammy. Uh-oh! Still, all the while he is cuddling them and those little kitties are purring and happy.</div>
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I was so glad I hadn't freaked out about that initial mess in the hallway. I had no idea that mess was just part of the process of Sammy helping feed these cute kitties. With his age and skill set, there was some collateral damage but the end result was still something sweet. </div>
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Looking at that kitty food mess spread across the hall, I had no idea such a precious moment was just around the corner.</div>
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Simply put, sometimes what we see as a mess is just a step in the process towards finding something wonderful. God knows all things and sees the big picture. He knows what's around the corner in this life and what is there waiting in the next life. Sometimes, too often I'm afraid to admit, all I see is the mess. </div>
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It takes faith to keep walking and see what's around the corner.</div>
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But there is joy when we have the courage to do so! Imagine being in labor and then quitting childbirth before seeing that beautiful baby? It would be crazy to stop! Or pulling a watermelon off the vine and eating it before it's ripe? I've done that. It's disgusting! Sometimes, most of the time, we have to hold our longer than we want to to but the reward does come. The blessings always do, eventually, if we are brave enough to come around the bend of the unknown and continue onward... </div>
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I recently quit a job I really love. It seemed like a great fit for our family's schedule, was bringing in some reliable income, and quitting after only a month felt like I was making a huge mess. But I know it's the right choice for my family. I prayed and prayed and prayed and received the same answer each time. So I had to accept that and make peace with it. </div>
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I know it was great I made the connections I did and friends I did while I was there. I learned a lot. I am more grateful and humble from my experiences there. </div>
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And even if it feels like there's a little mess right now from having to leave and train someone else and "refigure" some things out, I am excited to see what's just around the corner. Hope you are too!</div>
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Love, Eva</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-84427548878959875162013-11-04T11:08:00.000-07:002013-11-04T11:15:31.529-07:00The Tale of Two Spoons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I had a precious moment the other day, where my eyes were opened a little more and the love of my Savior filled my soul. Whenever I bake I always ask for help from the kids. Usually at least one of them is interested in cracking the eggs, pouring the vanilla and "helping" stir, while simultaneously making my kitchen table a collage of baking ingredients. When I let go of the less-mess, efficient side of me, I LOVE it.<br />
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This time Michael was the volunteer, ironically being careful not to get his hands dirty while accidentally sending a spray of flour out of the bowl when starting to stir. The dough was very thick though so soon he was asking me for help. I grabbed another wooden spoon and we both went at it!<br />
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"You can just use mine," he said.<br />
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"No, I will use my own spoon. That way we are working together to get it done!" I said.<br />
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After a few more stirs and a holler from Sophia to come see something, my Michael was done helping and scurrying out of the kitchen. I was a little frustrated to have my help leaving already (we hadn't even used the fun pumpkin cookie cutters yet!) but I soloed checking the oven temperature, washing my hands and then looked back to see this...<br />
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Two spoons sitting in the bowl. In that quiet moment in my messy, ever-under-construction kitchen, I had a sincere moment of gratitude. <b>At least there were two spoons in that bowl</b>. I had someone to cook with, even if it was only for 5 minutes at a time.<br />
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Then I realized, there are ALWAYS two spoons in the bowl of life. Sometimes the other person helping me is my husband. Sometimes it's been my parents or sisters. I can remember times I felt so alone, and then a seemingly random phone call from a friend came precisely when I needed it most. That's when I realized that Heavenly parents are also always with us, helping us, stirring this mess of life we have into something smooth, wonderful and delicious to all the senses. They want us to see, feel, hear, smell and taste the goodness of this life. So there is never just one spoon. There are ALWAYS two.<br />
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The kids scampered back into the kitchen to help cut out a few cookies from the dough, and then they were off again to play games and jump in the fallen leaves. I know they won't be home with me forever. If I do my job right, I will put myself out of a job eventually when they move out. But I will still help them stir when they need me. <br />
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Some recent work of mine at an assisted living facility has been a reminder that it is likely I or my husband may spend many years as a widow, like so many people do. But still, we will never be alone. Life is eternal, in some shape and form. I know I will still feel the love and comfort of those who have gone before me. There will still be two spoons.<br />
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God is with us in everything. Never forget, truly, there are always (at least) two spoons.<br />
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Love,<br />
Eva<br />
P.S. Someday I AM turning this idea into a children's book...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-74023977748427167952013-10-25T09:58:00.000-06:002013-10-25T09:58:46.904-06:00A Positive Self-Image Is Not Just For Girls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"You don't like any pictures you take of yourself," my little six year-old son said to me. We were on the bumpy bus ride home after spending two hours running through fields, catching bugs, and pretending to be part of the local wildlife at the Ogden Nature Center. After helping keep track of 30 curious 1st graders I thought the drive home would be the easy part of the trip. I was wrong. </div>
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After several attempts to take a portrait of the two of us, my heart sank at hearing my son's observation. "You don't like any pictures you take of yourself."</div>
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"It's not you. It's me," I said. Cringe. Did I really just say that?</div>
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"You look great in all the pictures," I continued. But see, first I didn't know I had it zoomed in so close. And then my hair looked messed up in this one." While that might be true, it didn't account for the 15 others where the angle of my face (to me) made my cheeks look even bigger or my chin even more pointy, my jawline too angular...</div>
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I saw his little pout. Ironically, I was ruining this trip by trying to capture a keep sake of how great it had been, which even in mind I recognized as "All Or Nothing Thinking" AGAIN... <br />
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Fast forward to a week later, when after trimming myself some bangs I attempted to taking another self-pic. I guess I didn't realize how many clicks had gone by and photos I'd checked and deleted.<br />
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"You don't like any pictures you take of yourself." Again, I felt my heart hitting the floor of my stomach. <br />
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"It's not that I don't like them," I white-lied, "It's that I just want to look my best, and that's not my best smile." What stupid lesson was I teaching? And why? Just to try to "keep up with the Joneses" of women who have lost all the baby weight and still look like they are in high school? I've been through this with myself already! <br />
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Looking at myself in that digital preview screen I saw a mother that was teaching her son to expect way too much of himself and to not settle for less than his own best version of perfect. That was not what I wanted.<br />
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"I'll take your picture, Mommy."<br />
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"OK."<br />
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I handed him my camera and smiled, knowing the lighting from his angle wasn't very bright and that I wasn't even facing the right way. But I smiled big and brightly for my little boy. <br />
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A hug and a thank you later he said "Your welcome, Mom. Now can we go play scooters?" <br />
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It isn't enough to just not have beauty magazines on display in your home or be careful with the media you let in. It isn't enough to just tell your daughters they are beautiful regardless of their coloring or size. Our boys need to hear it too. It isn't enough to just not talk about how you feel fat or want to lose a couple pounds when you around the kids. We need to be examples. We need to feel happy and recognize our beauty. We need to watch our actions. We need to smile big, laugh hard and enjoy and capture the moments for what they are, not because of how good we look in a picture. <br />
Most of all we need to remember we are ALWAYS teaching something because our little ones are ALWAYS watching.<br />
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I love these unedited pictures and thanks, Michael, for that last one.<br />
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Love, EvaUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-26577889248916038672013-10-24T23:21:00.002-06:002013-10-24T23:21:57.299-06:00Too Quick To See<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">"Dost thou love life</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">? Then do not squander time, for that's the stuff life is made of." -Benjamin Franklin</span></b></div>
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One last thought I had while looking through these pictures. As the light was fading with the end of day and we ran around throwing leaves, my camera couldn't keep up with us! I haven't edited these and I love how Michael is almost invisible, he's running so fast.</div>
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And then for a brief moment you can see us all, a frozen frame of clear, blissful, joy.</div>
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Then again, we are moving so fast the camera can barely capture us.</div>
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We are rushing with activity, smiling, playing and moving so fast that I am reminded again of how quickly time is flying by every day. You can't necessarily see it happening, but it is all the same. The evidence is there with every inch they grow taller, every birthday, every passing season.</div>
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May we live each day as one to remember! And may we never take a single day for granted! Love, Eva</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8698169333644323794.post-30416454617348847702013-10-23T22:34:00.001-06:002013-10-23T22:48:36.023-06:00Seasons Of Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was going through my pictures and came across the family photo session I took of us last year, whose pictures have graced our walls the past 12 months. I can't believe it's been a whole year since this fall day. When did my little two year-old lose the chub around his cheeks?</div>
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When did those stout, little legs grow so long? </div>
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When did my daughter master those monkey bars? This last week she showed me how she could skip two at a time, but here she could barely do them.</div>
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When did that front tooth grow back in and her hair grow so long?</div>
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All these seasons have passed and all I can think is</div>
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when did my coy little girl grow, grow, GROW?!</div>
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(No matter how old she gets, I hope she never loses this side of her!)</div>
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And my Michael, you don't look so small anymore...</div>
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...but you are still just as fun!</div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"> Through all of the playing, working, crafting, learning, scolding, hugging and sleeping, all I can ask myself is where has the time gone?</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span></div>
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How do I measure everything we've accomplished and experienced? How do we grasp the massive growth and progress we've made, no matter how painful, when we can't see the emotions measured in a ledger or on a scale? What evidence do we have of all we've gone through?</div>
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Going through these pictures I'm reminded of some favorite song lyrics...</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes - how do you measure, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600 minutes -</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"> how do you </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">measure a year in the life?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love. Seasons of </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;">love.</span></div>
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We have experienced so much this past year. Some wonderful events and some not so easy...</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
...Whether or not I've wanted them to, my kids have kept a sense of humor through it all. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And I am grateful for that. It's helped me remember the love to have for life.</div>
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They are my priceless angels...</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
...that keep us going... </div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"> </span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"> and keep us glued together.</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm grateful for the fun Chad can be.</div>
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I'm grateful sometimes things go as planned...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuKbfD01ECbo-tuMeglol3RysbBuK5PO62KVJkwwGyvlAexzAVS6EnKzqqco57kQjRjfYY9SjbCrn3xNRaU6NbZwUs1tW6UNgbhfYIxPnM-uPgsWjFFLCXJnTSDYLFddE1ijIqCoDC5E7p/s1600/IMG_0723.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuKbfD01ECbo-tuMeglol3RysbBuK5PO62KVJkwwGyvlAexzAVS6EnKzqqco57kQjRjfYY9SjbCrn3xNRaU6NbZwUs1tW6UNgbhfYIxPnM-uPgsWjFFLCXJnTSDYLFddE1ijIqCoDC5E7p/s400/IMG_0723.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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...and that sometimes they don't...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP1pgqqQlSuvuRlsMaDNGXnZbr87aUC25oMkRCgmX-LCfiD5CSfa6eMfOKwPFXjyaNpdp-QfWymB0J8l6LWe0y1hz6QsRvRiayVGqAxAZlpQlLzlMYEp8EFcUoz1-qlqn4aWIAPzVy0qqX/s1600/IMG_0725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP1pgqqQlSuvuRlsMaDNGXnZbr87aUC25oMkRCgmX-LCfiD5CSfa6eMfOKwPFXjyaNpdp-QfWymB0J8l6LWe0y1hz6QsRvRiayVGqAxAZlpQlLzlMYEp8EFcUoz1-qlqn4aWIAPzVy0qqX/s400/IMG_0725.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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...because that's fun too.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid6q33BEe0xnbImEYifYcDe9C_ja9k_8jVxr9xei2HxIvc5S12IZRRRjKNSS85sup77JyLV75l-83gySIUCgZyqstdmTD6kBpnBjCCx0Et0hQv0wvd6-W9JnV19evbCZr0Hwazopa1oUWw/s1600/IMG_0726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid6q33BEe0xnbImEYifYcDe9C_ja9k_8jVxr9xei2HxIvc5S12IZRRRjKNSS85sup77JyLV75l-83gySIUCgZyqstdmTD6kBpnBjCCx0Et0hQv0wvd6-W9JnV19evbCZr0Hwazopa1oUWw/s400/IMG_0726.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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And I'm thankful that even though I am months behind in editing and posting pictures, at least I have them to look over and work on and reflect on when I have the time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFKTwIKX1M7xQ_OnKwSeXifUNhfyzX55b251PUJUG0ysBf2jqOR4l0vN0NUV3QQiaT16xYlKD99jxtW5VhvrZ_Y3LS01kmoXmq8bYmB5i4Lz2Bws96p3-gUx2X-sgYCNaWLfLt6y3CMPWD/s1600/IMG_0770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFKTwIKX1M7xQ_OnKwSeXifUNhfyzX55b251PUJUG0ysBf2jqOR4l0vN0NUV3QQiaT16xYlKD99jxtW5VhvrZ_Y3LS01kmoXmq8bYmB5i4Lz2Bws96p3-gUx2X-sgYCNaWLfLt6y3CMPWD/s640/IMG_0770.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"> Because the memories we make our priceless, measureless, and timeless, through all our seasons of love.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuGo7L9c5oHiKlJOuikkCeKTojn-lYvEJP2kLBzveF6bg5-0Ar6_HNx9pzoDuP3f6CRhvEM_96wh1lq8YJM_8KDytI1Kjk3Qh3-1S2zAdLtbXM2wv_2j0XtLisooaXvrPeH5PzLDkFv4Qy/s1600/IMG_0851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="457" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuGo7L9c5oHiKlJOuikkCeKTojn-lYvEJP2kLBzveF6bg5-0Ar6_HNx9pzoDuP3f6CRhvEM_96wh1lq8YJM_8KDytI1Kjk3Qh3-1S2zAdLtbXM2wv_2j0XtLisooaXvrPeH5PzLDkFv4Qy/s640/IMG_0851.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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.Happy Fall! Love, Eva</div>
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