Love is Eternal

I 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.

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.

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.

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.

I'm so thankful I know that.  It's a great way to start this year.

Love,
Eva

Moving On...Within

It'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...

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 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:"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 

This was my status a few days later...

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.

And finally, no picture, but today's status...

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.  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 far beyond it. 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. 

This past year has definitely been a journey...of loss, of redemption, of hope.  Thanks for being a part of it!
Love,
Eva

Connecting & Crying With Laura Ingalls Wilder

Yesterday 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...

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." 

You can watch the video here...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iTEFeKESCmY&list=PL9912A544D3A8353C

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. 

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. 

One of my favorite album pages of us

"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.  

Love, Eva

"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.

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...

Dear Daddy,

Happy 48^th Birthday! Thank you for spending it in my boring apartment, so I could enjoy your sweet company on your special day. I'm honored! :)

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...

1. 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.
2. 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.
3. 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.
4. 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 always been a great example of living life to its fullest.
5. “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.
6. 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.
7. 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.
8. 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.
9. 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.
10. 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.)

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.

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.

I love you forever.

Happy, Happy Birthday!

Love, #1

(We enjoyed watching Star Trek: The Next Generation together, so that's where the #1 reference comes from.)

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.

Love,

Eva  

This Is Why We Do Hard Things

I'm going to let the pictures tell this story...

 (Imagine Sophia singing her own theme music here.)

(Looking down while whispering "Almost there.")

"I'm Queen of the world!  I'm Queen of the world!!!!" 

 

Doing it for a second time!

After seeing Sophia, Sammy decided to climb his own mountain...

...and did it!

So did Michael.

Then they climbed one together.

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.

Love, Eva

The Secret to a Sweet Family Life? Just Add Lots of Frosting!

 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!

 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.  

Now it was my turn to be in the kitchen with my tail between my legs.

"Don't worry!  I can fix it," I said.  "I'll just add lots of frosting!"

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...

and LOTS of frosting.

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.  

Just like there was a moment I thought about tossing that cake out too!

 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.

And I couldn't give up.  

I couldn't ever believe in giving up on them or on me or on that cake!  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.

  

 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.

10 years of living with our hearts wide open and vulnerable, because that is what true love is.

And it has been a wonderful 10 years.  Worth celebrating, recognizing and sharing with our children.

 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.  

It's enough for him.

 Look at Michael's smile.  His cheeks are bursting he's so happy.

 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.

 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

The Tale of Two Spoons

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.

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!

"You can just use mine," he said.

"No, I will use my own spoon.  That way we are working together to get it done!" I said.

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...

Two spoons sitting in the bowl.  In that quiet moment in my messy, ever-under-construction kitchen, I had a sincere moment of gratitude.  At least there were two spoons in that bowl.  I had someone to cook with, even if it was only for 5 minutes at a time.

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.

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.

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.

God is with us in everything.  Never forget, truly, there are always (at least) two spoons.

Love,
Eva
P.S. Someday I AM turning this idea into a children's book...

A Perfect-Enough Fit

I went to the temple recently and had a minor clothing fiasco.  In case you don't know, temples are places of worship for Latter-Day Saints.  We enter in Sunday dress, but change into white clothing inside for the actual meeting.  (The white clothing represents purity and reminds us of Jesus Christ's atonement, that allows us all to be clean from sin.)  While in the women's locker room ready to change I realized I had forgotten to check what clothes I had in my bag.  I did have white clothes, but not my more comfortable outfit.  The only ones in my bag were the ones I purchased when I first got married, about 20 lbs ago.  

I knew my husband was getting changed in the men's locker room and would be waiting for me in the chapel.  I also knew that unless I fit into the clothes I wouldn't get to attend the meeting with him.  It had been months since we had had an opportunity to attend a meeting like this together so I decided to go for it and do my best to make the fitted blouse and skirt wearable.  I won't go into all the  details, but suffice it to say I got it on.  The skirt was fine, although definitely up around the highest, smallest part of my waist (think Urkel.)  The shirt's zipper was an about an inch and a half from completely closing...I did my best to keep my back to the wall. LOL  

I didn't let that stop me though.  I wanted to be there in that meeting to learn and be uplifted and I wanted to be there for my husband.  Was my outfit tight and super unflattering?  Yes.  But that's OK.  It was a perfect-enough fit.  I had modest white on, and that was the only real requirement.  And I was grateful I had that clothes!  I didn't have to look like a cover model.  I was able to attend the service and be there with my husband.  The fit got the job done and as a result I got my job done of getting to be in the temple, with my husband and serve.

My hubby and I recently celebrated our 9 year wedding anniversary, which is why going to the temple was so important to us.  We were married in a temple.  But we are kind of an odd couple, because we are very different.  In fact, when we announced our engagement some people were surprised.  We didn't exactly hang out with the same crowd.  We didn't have the same hobbies.  One of our first fights was about how he could clean better than I could (Yes, newly-engaged Eva actually complained about that...)    

 I was raised in a loud, crazy, affectionate Hispanic home.  He had a more reserved, mid-west upbringing.  I grew up hearing my parents blast Queen, ABBA, Kansas and Elton John.  He grew up listening to records of classical music played by world renown musicians...none of which I can name, though I do recognize their pictures from their cameo appearances on Sesame Street.

  I would choose a witty comedy over an action-flick any night, but thankfully I did learn how to appreciate explosions and gunfire so we can enjoy movies together.  I love books but usually get distracted when I try to read.  Luckily Chad is great at reading aloud and read ALL the Harry Potter books aloud to me, even with ALL my questions, since I can't remember what happened a page ago and he can remember what happened 3 books ago.

  

But we disagree on important stuff too.  There are times after a long day at work he wants to have a calm night, home as a family.  I whine and then tend to want to order pizza and turn even an evening home into a party.  There are times I think he's too strict.  There are times he thinks I'm too lenient.  He doesn't want the kids to get hurt but I want to let them climb the trees and act like the monkeys they are...but then I forget to watch them.  I want to let the kids play and get messy.  He's sometimes more worried about the mess, probably because he knows he will be cleaning up more of it than I will because I will have become distracted by the next fun thing I'd rather be doing.

But we've found ways to make it work.  He's incredibly good at saying he's sorry.  Seriously.  He could give a seminar on it.  I need to work on that more.  If he ever does a seminar on apologizing I will definitely attend.  I am very good at forgiving though.  And at wanting to try again.  And at giving amazing back rubs, so we work things out.  Our love for each other outweighs everything else.

Are we a perfect fit though?

Maybe it sounds terrible to say no.  But I would be lying if I said yes, just like anyone else who believes they are "perfect" for someone else.  No matter what, people are different and will disagree about something.  If you think "perfect" is never fighting, good luck!  What matters is how you disagree.  I love seeing older couples differ in opinion but just smile and go on anyway.  It only gets them so ruffled and then it's over.  They don't let it interfere with their job of being married, of being together.  They are together regardless of how they fit because they love each other.

 We are what I call a Perfect-Enough Fit.  We've learned how to tolerate most of what annoys us about the other, and just let it go.  I can get over the fact that he leaves the fingernail clippers out on the bathroom sink instead of putting them back in the cupboard.  Definitely.  Especially when he overlooks the laundry I get behind on, even when the mound of clothes I've "forgotten" is visibly taking over our bedroom.

 Even the bigger challenges we've faced (some of which I haven't even written about because they are too personal) are mountains we are moving shovel by shovel, day by day, as we work on growing closer to each other.  To be completely honest, even though we just had a disagreement last night, I think we are finally hitting our Honeymoon Phase!    I never felt like we had that happy part early on in our marriage because I was such a crazy woman from the beginning.  The birth-control I took early on threw my moods all over the place and then a year later babies started coming and again my hormones were all out of whack.  But now, 2 years after the last one, I'm starting to feel like myself again and act like the Eva he dated, albeit smarter and more mature (hahaha!)

I guess what I'm trying to say (or write) is that sometimes "perfect" is just showing up.  It's getting the job done.  And there's nothing wrong with that.  That's great.  It's not about never having different opinions.  I'm happier that we can disagree and get past it than I would be if we just never disagreed at all.  I'm glad I have a husband that has an opinion and will let me speak mine.  I'm glad we've found our own ways to compliment each other's personalities.

  And like that white shirt and skirt that still allowed me to attend the temple, even though it didn't fit absolutely perfectly, I am so grateful I have my marriage.  It's not always flattering to see myself as a wife or mother, it doesn't always bring out my best side.  But with the Savior's help I can keep working on myself and my relationships.  Chad and I are a Perfect-Enough Fit and there is still room to grow.  And I hope I get to do that for many more years to come.

'Till Tomorrow!  Luv, Eva