I remember getting my drivers permit. I think my Mom took me in the morning to take the test. I was simultaneously excited and terrified. Part of me couldn't wait for the freedom of driving and the other part of me was too scared. That evening as soon as my Dad got home from work he came in and asked me if I wanted to go driving. I think he was even more excited than I was to get behind the wheel.
My Dad always got excited for the kids. Christmas morning my Dad was always up before the kids. He was the one who woke us up to open presents. And when it came time to open presents my Dad always watched anxiously while we opened up gifts. All of Dad's gifts lay set aside until all of the kids had opened all of our gifts.
Dad, as a kid I appreciated being able to open my gifts before you. Now as an adult I appreciate that you were excited for me as a kid. Happy Fathers Day Dad! I love you.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Monday, May 20, 2013
Piano Lessons
Here is another one that I wrote for my personal history group.
Despite the fact that I took piano lessons for years I do
not play any musical instruments. I
started piano lessons when I was about 7 years old. My older sister played so I was thrilled when
my mom signed me up. I think my teacher
moved me though the lessons even though I hadn't really mastered them. After about two years this teacher moved and
I went to a new teacher.
Teacher number 2 recognized than I wasn’t playing at the
“Level 3” that my previous teacher had me at and had me switch to a different
course of books. She explained to me
that this course numbered their levels differently and while I was a level
three in my previous books I was at a level 2 in this course.
Two shmoo. I could
tell I was being demoted. I had no
natural musical talent and combine that with the fact that I didn't really
practice it meant that I wasn't very good at the piano. Oh my mom made me practice every day and I
did my 30 minutes of “practice”, but I didn't actually try very hard. Don't worry mom I am getting my payback now
as I can see Alan practice something for hours but not get a lick better
because he isn't actually trying.
Well teacher number 2 caught on to the frustrations of
teacher number 1 of having a student
that was not progressing and she moved me though the books again so I was back
at level 3 when she moved (are we seeing a pattern here? Did I drive my teachers away?)
On to my third and final teacher. At this point I think I was asking my mom to
quit piano. But my mom made me persevere.
Teacher number 3 said I needed to brush up on my basics. She pulled out her level one book and told me
I would breeze through it in just a couple weeks, but it would be good practice
for me. Well, due to my lack of effort,
those weeks turned into months. She didn't
want to pass me off until I had really learned it.
I was with her for a few years and I eventually moved up,
whining and complaining to my mom the whole time. My mom still wouldn't let me quit. This lasted all the way up to my final piano
recital (I was 11 or 12 at this time). I
had “practiced” the song for weeks and I thought I had it until I got up to the
piano. I placed my hands on the keys and
started to play. I didn’t play more than
a few notes because I quickly realized they were the wrong keys. I tried again. Wrong keys again. I tried again. Wrong keys.
I don't remember how many times I tried but I realized that I could
possible sit there all day and never get the right keys. I thought in my head of what my options
were. I don't think I even had my book
with me in the room. I thought “maybe I
can run out of the room crying and then people will just feel sorry for
me”. But running away crying wasn't
really my style. So I finally decided that I'll give it one more chance and
I'll play the song no matter what. I
should have chosen to run away crying. I
couldn't get the right notes so I played the entire song without getting a
single note correct. I could tell how
bad it was because my mom never said a single word to me about my performance. She did tell me however that I was allowed to
quit the piano.
It wasn't until at least 15 years later that I ever heard my
mom say anything about the performance.
I had told John the story and he was the only one brave enough to broach
the subject and ask my mom about it. 15
years later and she still couldn't completely hide the horror from her
face. All she could manage to get out
was a quiet “It was so awful.”
To piano teachers everywhere.
I’m sorry.
*When I read this to my personal history group we all had a good laugh and one of the ladies there is a fantastic musician and has taught piano for many many years. She was telling me that I probably had low graphoria (can't read two lines of music at once). I was expressing my reservations at letting Alan take trumpet next year but she assured me that trumpet was only one line of music and would be much easier to start on. We'll see.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Mom's and Marriage
| My Parents at their 50th anniversary party. |
and was wondering with the day almost over why she was wasting her time. "Mom," I said. "It's 4 o'clock in the afternoon. I think it's a little late to be putting on makeup, you'll just wash it off in a few hours."
My mom had a very simple reply. "Your dad will be home soon and I want to look beautiful for him." This reply taught me a lot. At the time I thought it was sweet, but it has taught me even more since that time. It taught me that marriage needs to have a lot more giving than taking. There is a whole lot of "My husband should love me not matter what I look like" and "I only get dressed up to please myself and no one else" going around. It's true that you should please yourself with how you look and and that your husband should love you no matter what you look like (and my husband and my father both give that love unconditionally). But that does not mean that you shouldn't try to please your husband.
My mom is a great example to me teaching me how to work on my marriage. As my kids know, when mom and dad go out on dates, we are working on our marriage. When they see mom and dad hugging or kissing, we are working on our marriage. Doing simple things like making yourself look nice for your spouse is working on your marriage.
Thank you mom for the example you are to me. I would not be the woman I am today without you.
Happy Mothers Day
Monday, December 17, 2012
Sweet Hour of Prayer-for Sandy Hook
When I heard of the tragic events at Sandy Hook on Friday my heart was broken. Initially I did not tell my children about it. Not because I thought they would be terrified but because I wanted to shield them from all the evil in the world. Saturday I decided that there was no way I could keep it from them so I called them in and told them what happened. I asked them to pray for the families and loved ones of those who had died. They do not understand the scope of the tragedy and for that I am grateful, but they do remember them in all their prayers, and for that I am grateful too.
This morning as my heart was heavy with sorrow for Sandy Hook I recognized the song that had been stuck in my head all morning. The hymn Sweet Hour of Prayer. The line that kept repeating in my head was,
This morning as my heart was heavy with sorrow for Sandy Hook I recognized the song that had been stuck in my head all morning. The hymn Sweet Hour of Prayer. The line that kept repeating in my head was,
In seasons of distress and grief,
My soul has often found relief
. . .
By thy return, sweet hour of prayer!
To all those who are in a season of distress and grief, I will do the only thing that I know will help.
You will be in my prayers.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Wise Words
| First day of 4th grade |
Alan thought for a moment and replied "I think I will get a wife to do that"
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Family Vacatioins
I recently joined a personal history group with some of the ladies at church. Each months a few subjects are randomly chosen to write about. I decided I to share what I've written here. Family, feel free to chime in and clarify events or tell me just where this first picture was taken.
Family Vacations
always started early. When I was younger
it was 5 am so we would miss traffic. As
a teenager it became 2 or 3 am because my Dad had trouble sleeping and he figured
if he wasn’t sleeping he might as well be driving. My Dad liked to travel but didn’t like to
visit the same place twice so by the time I turned 18 I probably had visited
just about every National Park and major destination in the west. From Lassen to Carlsbad Caverns, Grand Canyon
to Banff Canada, Yellowstone to Yosemite I've visited them all.
Now that I have kids of my own I am trying to figure out how to take
them to all the places I visited as a kid.
![]() |
| Mono Lake 2012 Hyrum, John, Alan, Me Mono Lake 1993 Ron, Dad, Brent, Lawanna, Me |
Vacations
always involved long road trips. The
only times I flew as a kid was when we went to visit my Mom’s parents in
Texas. Though I hated the long drives,
a lot of my fond memories came from the drives.
My mom didn't simply have us all sitting in the car together watching
TV, but she had us playing together.
Our
vacations were almost always camping. I
loved sitting around the campfire listening to my older siblings tell
stories. I also loved looking up at the
stars at night, amazed by how many more stars could be seen than in the city. One night in particular I remember lying with
my family on a picnic blanket out in a meadow and there was a meteor
shower.
We had a
large brown tent. It had a tarp that
hung from the middle dividing it into two rooms. The boys slept on one side and the girls on
the other. My parents would sleep in the van.
On one particular camping trip I woke up early in the morning to find
that I had been sleeping in a puddle. My pillow was dripping wet. It had
started raining in the middle of the night and as it turned out our old tent
had gotten quite a few holes in it. My
two oldest sisters were already awake from the storm and were deciding whether
or not to go wake my parents. They
finally decided that sleeping in puddles was overrated and decided to go wake
them up. When my sister went to go
outside we discovered that not only did our tent have holes but the zipper
broke too. We were stuck inside, wet,
while my parents slept peacefully in our van.
After about a half hour of fighting with the zipper we got it open maybe
a foot. Being the youngest and smallest
I was voted to squeeze out the hole and wake my parents. So I went out into the pouring rain to bang
on the car window, wake my parents and inform them that their children were
trapped in the tent sleeping in puddles of water. We packed up a day early and headed home. As you might imagine, the tent, went in the
garbage.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)


