He Is, So We Are

Happy.

Movin’ in to the dorm…

Peacock and Spiker part deux (Tyler & Luke are the “new and improved” Justin & Patrick).  Remember THIS?  That was just yesterday.

Note how high the beds are.  I’ve heard tell that one of them (who shall remain nameless) has only fallen out of bed once so far, and that’s when he was wide awake!

I just know those sheets are not gonna be changed all semester year.  It is really hard to make that bed when it’s up that high.

Here they are imagining the sweet couch they will find at DI.

They live in a new dorm, this is only it’s second year open.  Most of the other dorms are named for famous people in Church history, but this one has yet to be dedicated.  It is known only as the generic “Building 9” or “J Hall”.

Of course, the boys that reside in this dorm have suggested a name….

JIMMER HALL

Maybe we’ll just go with that for the time being.

We noticed that the dorm area comes alive after midnight.  Two days ago these kids all had a curfew.

Tyler gets to look out his window every day and see these gorgeous mountains.

It was hard to say goodbye, but so much easier because we know what an amazing year he will have.

XOXOXO

Good News!! I am NOT the World’s Worst Mother…

At least not today, anyway.

It all started innocently enough last November.

Send in a baby picture for your senior, they said.

Eh, no problem, I got a bazillion of those.

Except--

When I went to go find the book,

I didn’t.

Find it, that is.

I looked in every nook and cranny.

Nowhere.

I knew EXACTLY what I was looking for.  But it just was not to be found.

I got this sick feeling in my stomach.

REALLY SICK.

What if it got tossed inadvertently?  My beautiful son’s babyhood, POOF, erased.

He’ll think I don’t love him enough.

Talk about middle child syndrome. (I’m sure he’s long suspected something like this would happen!)

Fast forward 7 months.  Every once in a while a new place to look will occur to me.  But nothing.  The dull ache continues.

About a week ago, Bryce was helping his dad clean up the garage after the various camping activities of the summer.  I’m not home, but Bryce happens to mention later how his dad was cursing me (with love, I’m sure) when he came across this mystery box with all sorts of *garbage* in it.  He (Jeff) was tempted to throw it away.  Sure! he’s willing to throw MY boxes!! Let’s talk about that Spuds McKenzie sweatshirt that was packed in the garage for how many years?  Seriously?  But, I digress.

That’s right, you guessed it.  Tyler’s babyhood has been rescued from obscurity (or, in this case, the garbage).

I cheered.  I sang.  I did a little dance.

I made Tyler sit down and admire his cute baby self.

(He had to go and ruin the moment by mocking our wardrobe choices.  Red is a good color for me, I don’t care what he says about too many stripes….)

Of course, now I may actually have to FINISH the book.

And I Think I Neglected to Mention THIS Minor Occasion

No bigs. 

Just #2 son graduating from high school.

Eh.  Once you’ve had one graduation in the family, you know, It’s really nothing special.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

NOT!

We are so very, very PROUD of this young man!  He kept us hopping in the weeks leading up to graduation attending award ceremonies where he added some hardware and dollars for college.  Ho, hum!

But, who’s bragging?

That’s right.  That would be…   ME!

He loves kisses~

Thanks to Grandma and Grandpa for braving the crowds!

Dr. Dixon was his 3rd and 4th grade teacher.  One of those teachers who make a DIFFERENCE.  This was the last class she taught before retiring so it was GREAT to see her there!

Then, as if I had nothing BETTER to do with my Thursday evening, I just followed him around taking pictures every time he flashed that handsome grin my way…

Um, I think something’s missing?

Back in the Day

Bryce and I were playing cards tonight.  Truly, he is shuffle-challenged.  We decide that it must not be a genetic trait, since I have absolutely no coordination, but I can shuffle like nobody’s business…

Bryce:  And type.  You type really fast.

Me:   I used to be better.  The computer has ruined me.  Knowing the backspace key is there has ruined my accuracy.

Bryce:   Like, what?  You used a TYPEWRITER?

Me:  Well, ya.  That’s how I learned.  I had a typing class in high school.  We used typewriters.

Bryce:  No.  Really?

Me:  Yeah, really.  I used a typewriter to type my papers all the way through college.  I only started using a computer when my roommate made me, in graduate school.

Bryce:  A TYPEWRITER? (clearly incredulous, like it’s some medieval torture device.  Maybe it was.)

Me:  Yeah.

Bryce:  Really?

Me:  YEAH. (indignant now)

Bryce: Wow.

Near My God, To Thee

Day 3 of Trek.  Last day.

The boys and men got conscripted into the army first thing in the morning.

We sent them off singing “God Be With You ‘til We Meet Again”.  I knew it was all pretend.  Why did I keep crying?

There’s just *something* about a man with a rifle…mmm.

It was just me and my *daughters*…

Yes, we had a little tear…(this poor cornhusk doll never stood a chance with these girls.  But that’s a different story!)

But, you can see, we put a smile on our face and carried on.  It wasn’t so bad.  In fact, we did pretty well.  At one point, the boys came back and I hesitate to admit that I was a little disappointed. Honestly.  We could do more, we hadn’t been tested!

However, they were only passing through, not to stay.

Then.

I saw THE HILL.

It was too long and too steep for any one handcart family to make it up by themselves so we needed to work together with the other families in our company.

Which meant we needed to do it SEVERAL times.

This picture does not do it justice.

On one of my ways up the hill, the girl just opposite of me fainted.  We were mid way up the hill.  We faltered.  If we stopped we would roll backwards down the hill and take out the women pushing from behind.  Yet, going on seemed unforgivable.

“There is Jane James, finally pulling her handcart into camp toward midnight.  Her children had become scattered and disoriented in the whiteout on Rocky Ridge, but she has gathered six of them…Somewhere back on the trail are her husband, William, and her 13-year-old son, Reuben.  William had collapsed earlier in the day and sent Jane ahead to find the children.  Reuben had stayed with his father.  Over and over, Jane’s children ask, ‘Will Father and Reuben be here soon?  Do you think someone helped them?’  All through the night the uncertainty gnaws.  Finally, toward morning, one of the captains approaches Jane, bearing the dead body of her husband and the nearly unconscious body of her son.  He tries to comfort her and then goes back to work.  The look in Jane’s eyes frightens her children, but she calls upon the deep reserve of faith and has her family ready to move on the next day.”  (Andrew D. Olsen, The Price We Paid, 2006, pp. 209-210)

We continued up the hill, we had to.  The Captains (who had been coaching, but not pushing) swooped in and got her into the shade.  She recovered, and we were so grateful.  So much for being pretend.  Suddenly things were very, very real.

But, we weren’t done.

Now, we had to go DOWN.

Going up was hard.  Going down was petrifying.  Going up, it seemed like you could do it as long as you just kept moving.  It was possible, controllable.  Going down, you were never really in control.  It was way worse.

The reward was, at the bottom of the hill we got our boys back.  I have never, ever been so grateful to see them.

Together, we would face Testimony Hill.  It goes on and on and on.  Surely it is named so because you have to pray continually that you will be able to finish.

By luck or design, we were THE VERY LAST HANDCART in the the Camp.

Most of that last hour is a blur but here are some glimpses that have remained with me:

• About a third of the way up the hills personages in white appeared to help lighten our load.  One of them happened to be the mother of one of my *daughters*.  The angel mother silently took her daughter’s place.  This daughter—SO strong in body and mind—had not expected her and broke down in tears.

*

• Further along came a group of young men who had previously made the journey and came back to assist others until every last cart made it.  Tyler related later, “I never want to ask for help.  But I knew that I would not be able to do this by myself and it reminds me that I don’t always have to do it all on my own.”

*

• One of those young men took the place of Jeff pushing from behind.   He said, “Brother, you’ve done enough.  I’ll take it from here.”  I know that if we do all that we can, in the end, it is the Savior’s atoning sacrifice that makes up the rest and takes us the rest of the way Home.

*

• Our cart in good hands, Jeff and I looked up the hill to see our Bryce (remember, he’d been assigned to another family and had previously made it all the way up the hill) coming down the hill for US.  Ya, I can’t even say what that did to us.  We walked the rest of the way hand in hand.

Even just walking it without pushing the cart was HARD.  I had to remind myself to breathe evenly and deeply.

As we crested the hill we were greeted by those who had made it ahead of us as well as other well wishers.  I was sobbing.  I still couldn’t tell you why.

I had not expected to feel this way.  I was so full…

of gratitude,

of compassion,

of the Spirit.

And that is very

 REAL

When we finished, we gathered with our *families* one last time.  It was one of the most spiritual experiences of my life.  We talked about the memorial at Rock Creek Hollow.  One word… 

President Gordon B. Hinckley’s prayer of dedication at Rock Creek Hollow:

“O God, our Eternal Father, we thank Thee for the great inheritance that is ours, that we come of the strain of noble people who valued faith more than life itself, who were willing to work and sacrifice—even to give their lives in death—for the cause in which they believed.  Help us to be true to the faith, and help all generations who shall follow to remain true to the faith, that they may keep the trust which became so much a part of the lives of those who died here and elsewhere along this trail of tears.”

Carry On

I came home so FILLED after the trek that I’d hoped to record our experiences immediately.  Life happened.  BUT, I do not want to forget, so continue on with me... 

This is what we did on Day 2.

‘Brigham Young’ reported that Governor Boggs had issued the Extermination Order and sent us on our way.

Along the way, we took a wrong turn.  Especially unfortunate was the fact that on this leg we were the 2nd handcart in the first Company, which meant we had nearly the farthest to backtrack.   Coincidence?  I don’t think so!

Bryce was reluctantly “hitched” to this cute young woman (never met before).  This was as close as he would get to holding her hand and he refused to look her in the face.  He should be so lucky.  Really.

We were a bit “bugged” this day.  We were pretty grossed out until we looked closer and realized those were all ladybugs landing on my shirt.  If all the bugs had been ladybugs it would not have been so bad, but alas, that was not the case.  Made us grateful for long sleeves and long pants.  And, really, while we’re on the subject, the bonnets were EXTREMELY useful to shade from the sun.  Fashionable, no.  Practical, yes.

The major challenge for this day was the fact that the road had washed out, causing a steep drop off of about 4 feet.  The Captains huddled and the plan was to empty one handcart at a time and using a line of youth like a bucket brigade to pass the contents to the other side of the road. AND THEN, pass the actual handcart over too (imagine crowd surfing, and you’re getting the idea).  Note that my beefy boys are first in line to move the handcart.

Of course, this was particularly hard on us since we had perfected our method for loading the handcart only that morning and it was packed PERFECTLY!

We ended with Porter Rockwell, dutch oven desserts and a fun hoedown with a live band.  The girls fretted to attend a dance not looking (or smelling) quite their best, but they had fun anyway!

At the end of the day, Jeff taught about Ephraim Hanks who answered the call to help rescue the Martin Handcart Company.  While others needed to time in order to prepare to leave, Ephraim answered “I am ready now!”  We learned about the miracles of the buffalo meat he was able to bring to the starving company.  His story provides a brilliant example of someone who was prepared and ready serve at a moment’s notice, who prayed for specific needs and recognized the hand of God in all things.

Come, Come Ye Saints

The youth in our church periodically re-enact the experiences of the Mormon pioneers who crossed the plains in the mid 1800’s to escape persecution.

It’s a large undertaking.  We had nearly 300 youth participate, organized into families of 10 with a “Ma” and a “Pa”.  Each family is organized into a company of 4-5 families.  We dress in pioneer clothing and walk in honor of a pioneer. 

We packed all of our worldly possessions into 5 gallon buckets.

The Peacocks have many, many pioneer ancestors, but I was surprised to find my ancestor among the Mormon pioneers. 

Elizabeth Sarah Elizabeth Dummer was born in 1860 in England and traveled with the William S. Seeley Company in 1868 when she was 8, along with her parents.  She was my great, great grandmother. 

 

Jeff and I acted as Pa and Ma for one of the families.  The kids from our ward (congregation) were divided among 4 families and we happened to be lucky enough to get Tyler in our family.  We love our family!!

Here we are looking pretty and clean (I even had make up on!) as we packed our handcart Thursday morning.  As we set off, the boys set a fast pace.  We were constantly telling them to SLOW DOWN as we were jogging behind the cart.

The first day we traveled about 7 or 8 miles.  It only took 1 mile, however, for us to realize we’d packed our cart ALL WRONG.  We weren’t the only one.  We were constantly picking up stuff that fell off and tossing it back in, only to have it fall out the other side.  Jeff spent his time on the trail plotting how to master packing a handcart.

There were 25 handcarts in all, so the company wound around on the hills.  What I strange sight we are!  On that first day I found myself laughing to myself about what a strange bunch we are!  Is it any wonder the world considers us so… PECULIAR?  Who would ever think 300 teenagers would CHOOSE to spend three days dressed in pioneer clothes and dragging handcarts around the countryside.  OK, well, maybe a good portion of them were STRONGLY ENCOURAGED by their parents and others to attend.  Regardless.  WHAT were we doing here?  WHAT were we hoping to accomplish?

What I learned that first day was APPRECIATION and COMPASSION for those who made the trip originally.  

As I mentioned, we went 7-8 miles that first day.  The weather was moderate.  We had ready access to water and good shoes.  Well, most of us had good shoes:

We knew our journey would end that night with a good meal.

YET.

With less than 1/2 mile to go that day our boys all started cramping up.  Huge cramps.  Stop everything cramps.  The handcart wheel ran over the foot of one of our strongest girls.  We were in a BAD way.  We knew it was pretend and so we we were tempted to just QUIT.  At one point, Jeff sat along the side of the road and I wasn’t sure he was going to get up again.  We ended up being nearly the last cart to make it into camp that night where we nursed our blisters.

That night we learned about James and Amy Loader.  They joined the Church in England in 1851 and 1848, respectively.  James joined the Church 3 years after Amy because he’d been told he would lose his job, which in fact happened.  They were in their 50’s when they left England with six of their children and their families.  They saved enough money to travel with a wagon train to Zion but were asked to travel by handcart instead so that the extra money could be used to help other families who did not have the means to emigrate.  It was a trial of their faith.  They did not think that they could physically withstand the demands of the trip by handcart.  But they did it.

As members of the ill-fated Martin Handcart Company, they were right to be concerned.  James became very sick and weak.  He knew that he would not likely survive to see Utah.  He spent every spare moment whittling tent pins.  He knew that winter storms would soon be upon them and that he might not be able to be there to protect his family, so he did what he could while he was alive to care for them.

SACRIFICE.

The pioneers were obedient.  They did what they had to do to protect themselves, their families, their faith.  They were COURAGEOUS in a way that I don’t think we really understand today.  They ENDURED hunger, exhaustion, dehydration, illness, death. They pressed on when it seemed impossible.

They put one foot in front of the other and walked.

And walked.

And walked.

That is what I learned on the first day.