The Life and Thoughts of
Suzanne Marie Brown
Gardiner
C 2008 by Kent Gardiner.
Prologue
Suzanne never took time to write her own story. Fortunately she was an avid writer on a variety of subjects, usually having to do with growing up, marriage and family. For this reason I have decided to let her tell her own story. All the writing herein is hers unless otherwise indicated in italics. Additions or corrections are welcome. Please email to: kgardin@ucla.edu
No part of this document may be copied or reproduced in any way without the expressed written permission of Kent Gardiner This text is only for the immediate family of Suzanne and Kent Gardiner. I retain all rights to this work. These pages are for the private use of the Kent Gardiner Family. This work, in part or as a whole, may not be duplicated, disseminated or posted on the Internet without my written permission. It is expected that this work will be treated with respect and the privacy that it deserves. We are very privileged to have it. All rights to the pictures contained herein belong to Kent Gardiner. Kent H. Gardiner, KentHGardiner@gmail.com
Dedication
This essay is dedicated to each of her six children, who she cherishes.
1955 - I was born on February 2, 1955 in the San Gabriel Hospital, San Gabriel, California. I joined Johanna as the second in a family of what would eventually be six children.
1955 – 1962 Elmcrest House
The children have many fond memories of the brick-colored little Elmcrest house: water-painting the playhouse; climbing the crab apple tree; tricycling around the hedges in the front yard; watching “Wagon Train” with “Wilsie” or Mrs. Wilson, their favorite baby sitter; the bandy chickens and the ‘possum in the woodpile; playing superman on the swing set; walking to Frank M. Wright Elementary School; eating pomegranates from the tree in the back yard; making snap dragons “talk”; tamales at Christmas from their next door neighbors, Mac and Bee; cute “Georgie”, Jimmie, and Jarvis Justus, the neighbors with the pool on the other side (where Suzie almost drowned one time). But they desperately needed a larger home. Jim wanted one with a view, and Marjorie wanted a large area for the children to play.
1924 – 1987
My Mother Marjorie
She is not only beautiful, but she loves beauty wherever it can be found. Nearly everything she touched became lovelier: our home, its furnishings, evens to a vase of flowers on the kitchen table. There were always fresh flowers in our house, at least in my memory there are. If there were none from our garden there were some my father brought to her. She was always trying to expose us to all that was good and beautiful. She frequently picked out things of interest around us and helped us to evaluate and learn from them. We made many family excursions to museums, parks, historical sites, and other places of cultural and educational value. She encouraged us in our music lessons, hobbies and studies. Our home was a learning center; she had gathered an extensive file on many current topics as well as many good books, noteworthy library with some of the finest literary and church books available.
1921 2010
She is not only beautiful, but she loves beauty wherever it can be found. Nearly everything she touched became lovelier: our home, its furnishings, evens to a vase of flowers on the kitchen table. There were always fresh flowers in our house, at least in my memory there are. If there were none from our garden there were some my father brought to her. She was always trying to expose us to all that was good and beautiful. She frequently picked out things of interest around us and helped us to evaluate and learn from them. We made many family excursions to museums, parks, historical sites, and other places of cultural and educational value. She encouraged us in our music lessons, hobbies and studies. Our home was a learning center; she had gathered an extensive file on many current topics as well as many good books, noteworthy library with some of the finest literary and church books available.
1921 2010
My Father’s Struggle as a Young
Man
My father, the oldest of three boys and one girl lived on a small farm in Mesa, Arizona. His father was an alcoholic, so many of the responsibilities of the family fell on his head, and he grew up a lot faster than most boys. At the age of five he walked three miles each morning at dawn to get the milk. At ten he was doing a man’s work. He had courage, strength, ambition, responsibility, endurance, compassion, and ruggedness, which helped him work his way through 11 years of medical training without any outside help. He has always been a big man, spiritually, mentally and physically.
He served in World War II as an army engineer, Sergeant serving in both the European and Pacific campaigns. He is now a respected citizen of the committee, a beloved and widely practicing physician, and a leader in the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. As Stake President of the El Monte Stake, he has been asked to speak at the Baccalaureate Services the year before last more than once to different classes at Los Altos, at my own eighth grade graduation, and countless times in church.
It is interesting to note that of all my Grandmother Brown’s children, he has not only been the most religious, but most prosperous in his business. I hope someday to find a husband like my father..
1973 October 30
My father, the oldest of three boys and one girl lived on a small farm in Mesa, Arizona. His father was an alcoholic, so many of the responsibilities of the family fell on his head, and he grew up a lot faster than most boys. At the age of five he walked three miles each morning at dawn to get the milk. At ten he was doing a man’s work. He had courage, strength, ambition, responsibility, endurance, compassion, and ruggedness, which helped him work his way through 11 years of medical training without any outside help. He has always been a big man, spiritually, mentally and physically.
He served in World War II as an army engineer, Sergeant serving in both the European and Pacific campaigns. He is now a respected citizen of the committee, a beloved and widely practicing physician, and a leader in the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. As Stake President of the El Monte Stake, he has been asked to speak at the Baccalaureate Services the year before last more than once to different classes at Los Altos, at my own eighth grade graduation, and countless times in church.
It is interesting to note that of all my Grandmother Brown’s children, he has not only been the most religious, but most prosperous in his business. I hope someday to find a husband like my father..
1973 October 30
Love is My Father -
Love means many things to many people. To me, love is my father. I love my father, and want to live worthy of the love he has show for me throughout my life in moments of gentle discipline, wise guidance and trust, deep understanding, and great concern for my welfare.
My father is a big-boned thickset man, with a broad chest and wide shoulders. His face is square and heavy. He has a balding head with a few hairs combed carefully over the top, like a spot of soft, furrowed dirt fringed with grass. His wide, lightly creased forehead and eyes deeply set between shaded, crescent moons and low eyebrows, give him a sober look. When I was very little he seemed to me like a big warm mountain that I could run to for refuge from any of life’s wrongs.
1970s
Love means many things to many people. To me, love is my father. I love my father, and want to live worthy of the love he has show for me throughout my life in moments of gentle discipline, wise guidance and trust, deep understanding, and great concern for my welfare.
My father is a big-boned thickset man, with a broad chest and wide shoulders. His face is square and heavy. He has a balding head with a few hairs combed carefully over the top, like a spot of soft, furrowed dirt fringed with grass. His wide, lightly creased forehead and eyes deeply set between shaded, crescent moons and low eyebrows, give him a sober look. When I was very little he seemed to me like a big warm mountain that I could run to for refuge from any of life’s wrongs.
1970s
Daddy’s Girl
I was a daddy’s girl right from the start. I don’t know when I first became really aware of why or of how much me meant to me. One time when I was five, my older sister bought a beautiful paper doll. I coveted it so much I saved all my money and bought myself one just like it. Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough money to buy my dad a Father’s Day present after that. I was anguished. He assured me I was the best present he could ever receive, but I couldn’t’ be comforted. I never played with that doll again. Even at that early age I guess I saw it for what it really was---a worthless, destructible, material item, and began to realize how much my father meant to me in a way that couldn’t be purchased.
My father did not like to discipline his children and usually left that task up to my mother, but the few times he has I remember vividly, perhaps because they were so few. I can never forget the only time he raised his hand against me. My older sister, who would lie awake at night until she had gone to sleep, and then I would see how stealthily I could climb up, tweak her hair, then jump back in bed and pretend I was asleep without letting her catch me. Invariably I would get tangled up in the bedposts or jiggle the bed springs and she would discover me. After a while she knew it was I, without even hearing me. And would anticipate my next attack. Always she tattled on me. At first I would hotly dispute it, then eventually I submitted myself to my mother’s reprimand and scolding. The last time I did it though, my father didn’t have to work late at the hospital like he usually did. He pulled down my pants and put me over his knee and slapped my bottom firmly. I cried out more in surprise than in pain—he only pulled my pants down when he gave me a shot, and he had never spanked me before. As I rubbed my sore posterior, sniveled, and looked into his stern face, his eyes softened and dissolved. He looked reproachfully at me and asked if I was going to do it again. I shook my head vigorously. He laughed gently and enfolded me into his big strong arms and I knew he still loved me even though I had been naughty. After that all he had to do was look at me reproachfully with those soft brown eyes and I would immediately repent of any wrongdoing.
While he never said much, when he did speak, his carefully chosen words enabled on to glimpse the tremendous wisdom and thought behind them. Often I took advantage of and profited from his wise counsel. Once, during my “kicking-out-against-the-pricks” stage in junior high, a minor civil war erupted between my mother and I over my “short skirts”. My father listened quietly during a battle to both my mother’s righteous wrath and my tearful defense. My mother washed her hands of all responsibility for my disobedience. My father was thoughtful for a moment, then concluded I should be mature enough to choose for myself what was modest and wholesome, coming to him for finality in cases of doubt. What a switch! In a twinkling I was transformed from the role of a resentful child into that of a responsible individual. I was pleased at his trust in my ability to make competent decisions, and vowed to live up to that trust. From then on I began to catch the spirit of the law and living the letter became less difficult.
Sobbing
Many times I have pillowed my sobbing face into that big warm chest and vent my frustrations with the trials and tribulations of childhood, adolescence, and then youth, pouring into that patient understanding ear the secrets of my heart. Even though many times he could not or would not right my wrongs, things seemed o fall in place better just having him listen and know how I felt. For instance: Last Summer I had anticipated going to church Education Week for some time. Shortly before I was planning to go my mother announced she had plans for me to pack my things for college. I was crushed. I thought I had plenty of time to pack, but she was resolute. I followed my father out to the car on his way to work. I called him, and as he turned I burst into tears out of sheer frustration. Once more, like he had done so many times before, he wrapped his arms around me. While I knew he would not overrule a decision of my mother’s it felt better knowing he understood my yearning to go.
It must be hard to be a parent and look on objectively as one’s child passes by the many chuckholes and treacherous angles in the road of life. I think that together we have fought and overcome many great-unrecorded battles in the world. I will never forget something he said to me as I approached young womanhood. I cannot recall the circumstances of our conversation, but I will always remember the soft look in his eyes when he looked into mine and said, “If anything should ever happen to you, honey, I think I would die.” For a moment I caught a glimpse into the great immeasurable depts. Of his heart, and knew that he was referring to the many unfought battles yet to come in my life that I would soon have to face alone. I also knew he would not need to worry. Not only had he trained and prepared me well to face the, I loved him too much to ever disappoint or hurt him.
Jim Brown:
Suzanne Marie, or Suzy, is sweet and sunny with a lovely smile. She’s sensitive to her surroundings, concerned with others, and an easy child to take care of. I always think of her as being older than she is. Here again, she’s just perfect for a second child. Suzy wrote to President McKay to ask what she could do to help a little baby she saw with congenital defects. Pres. McKay was ill at the time, and one of his secretaries answered her letter knowing our Suzy, I didn’t worry about what she would write. Suzanne will be a beautiful woman.
I was a daddy’s girl right from the start. I don’t know when I first became really aware of why or of how much me meant to me. One time when I was five, my older sister bought a beautiful paper doll. I coveted it so much I saved all my money and bought myself one just like it. Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough money to buy my dad a Father’s Day present after that. I was anguished. He assured me I was the best present he could ever receive, but I couldn’t’ be comforted. I never played with that doll again. Even at that early age I guess I saw it for what it really was---a worthless, destructible, material item, and began to realize how much my father meant to me in a way that couldn’t be purchased.
My father did not like to discipline his children and usually left that task up to my mother, but the few times he has I remember vividly, perhaps because they were so few. I can never forget the only time he raised his hand against me. My older sister, who would lie awake at night until she had gone to sleep, and then I would see how stealthily I could climb up, tweak her hair, then jump back in bed and pretend I was asleep without letting her catch me. Invariably I would get tangled up in the bedposts or jiggle the bed springs and she would discover me. After a while she knew it was I, without even hearing me. And would anticipate my next attack. Always she tattled on me. At first I would hotly dispute it, then eventually I submitted myself to my mother’s reprimand and scolding. The last time I did it though, my father didn’t have to work late at the hospital like he usually did. He pulled down my pants and put me over his knee and slapped my bottom firmly. I cried out more in surprise than in pain—he only pulled my pants down when he gave me a shot, and he had never spanked me before. As I rubbed my sore posterior, sniveled, and looked into his stern face, his eyes softened and dissolved. He looked reproachfully at me and asked if I was going to do it again. I shook my head vigorously. He laughed gently and enfolded me into his big strong arms and I knew he still loved me even though I had been naughty. After that all he had to do was look at me reproachfully with those soft brown eyes and I would immediately repent of any wrongdoing.
While he never said much, when he did speak, his carefully chosen words enabled on to glimpse the tremendous wisdom and thought behind them. Often I took advantage of and profited from his wise counsel. Once, during my “kicking-out-against-the-pricks” stage in junior high, a minor civil war erupted between my mother and I over my “short skirts”. My father listened quietly during a battle to both my mother’s righteous wrath and my tearful defense. My mother washed her hands of all responsibility for my disobedience. My father was thoughtful for a moment, then concluded I should be mature enough to choose for myself what was modest and wholesome, coming to him for finality in cases of doubt. What a switch! In a twinkling I was transformed from the role of a resentful child into that of a responsible individual. I was pleased at his trust in my ability to make competent decisions, and vowed to live up to that trust. From then on I began to catch the spirit of the law and living the letter became less difficult.
Sobbing
Many times I have pillowed my sobbing face into that big warm chest and vent my frustrations with the trials and tribulations of childhood, adolescence, and then youth, pouring into that patient understanding ear the secrets of my heart. Even though many times he could not or would not right my wrongs, things seemed o fall in place better just having him listen and know how I felt. For instance: Last Summer I had anticipated going to church Education Week for some time. Shortly before I was planning to go my mother announced she had plans for me to pack my things for college. I was crushed. I thought I had plenty of time to pack, but she was resolute. I followed my father out to the car on his way to work. I called him, and as he turned I burst into tears out of sheer frustration. Once more, like he had done so many times before, he wrapped his arms around me. While I knew he would not overrule a decision of my mother’s it felt better knowing he understood my yearning to go.
It must be hard to be a parent and look on objectively as one’s child passes by the many chuckholes and treacherous angles in the road of life. I think that together we have fought and overcome many great-unrecorded battles in the world. I will never forget something he said to me as I approached young womanhood. I cannot recall the circumstances of our conversation, but I will always remember the soft look in his eyes when he looked into mine and said, “If anything should ever happen to you, honey, I think I would die.” For a moment I caught a glimpse into the great immeasurable depts. Of his heart, and knew that he was referring to the many unfought battles yet to come in my life that I would soon have to face alone. I also knew he would not need to worry. Not only had he trained and prepared me well to face the, I loved him too much to ever disappoint or hurt him.
Jim Brown:
Suzanne Marie, or Suzy, is sweet and sunny with a lovely smile. She’s sensitive to her surroundings, concerned with others, and an easy child to take care of. I always think of her as being older than she is. Here again, she’s just perfect for a second child. Suzy wrote to President McKay to ask what she could do to help a little baby she saw with congenital defects. Pres. McKay was ill at the time, and one of his secretaries answered her letter knowing our Suzy, I didn’t worry about what she would write. Suzanne will be a beautiful woman.
1994
Judy Brown:
I
remember sharing and saving money for Nancy Drew books, playing with Babies and
waiting to grow into her hand-me-downs which never really fit me because of her
four inch height advantage. We’d take turns reading the red, blue, green,
orange, yellow purple and brown fairy tale books. Then we’d play Barbie’s with
her telling the most wonderful stories. Her stories of princes, princesses,
castles, rescues, good winning over evil, were much better than any of those in
the books. I remember her favorite name for her Barbie was Queen Deborah, a
Queen Ester heroine figure.
Oh, how said I was when she didn’t have time to play anymore. I missed her adventure stories. The ones I made up were never as good as her dramatizations. I remember her and my big brother, Jim, putting on a grand catsup gum fight in the living room while my parents were out. They were so dramatic, slapping catsup on their bodies where they were “shot”. We clapped and begged them to do it again and again. Somehow it was cleaned up before Mom came home.
I remember her love of pretty things like my mother, such as antiques, china, books, flowers, Gunnysack dresses and befriending people and strange animals. At twelve years old she had waist length brown hair and an hourglass figure. I remember returned missionaries coming to see Dad and being disappointed and surprised to find she was only thirteen and not yet old enough to date. They were amazed at her spirituality as well.
Oh, how said I was when she didn’t have time to play anymore. I missed her adventure stories. The ones I made up were never as good as her dramatizations. I remember her and my big brother, Jim, putting on a grand catsup gum fight in the living room while my parents were out. They were so dramatic, slapping catsup on their bodies where they were “shot”. We clapped and begged them to do it again and again. Somehow it was cleaned up before Mom came home.
I remember her love of pretty things like my mother, such as antiques, china, books, flowers, Gunnysack dresses and befriending people and strange animals. At twelve years old she had waist length brown hair and an hourglass figure. I remember returned missionaries coming to see Dad and being disappointed and surprised to find she was only thirteen and not yet old enough to date. They were amazed at her spirituality as well.
1963
Saturday, August 17, 8 years old
5 Acre
fire Perils Home in Hacienda Heights
Newspaper article: County firemen held to five acres
a potentially dangerous brush fire Friday that whipped through Hacienda Heights
canyon threatening luxurious hillside homes.
The fire was confined to the east side of the winding 2300 block of Turnbull Canyon Road. It reduced a canyon recreation area used extensively by children to a maze of blackened trees and white ash.
Some 25 homes were threatened. Flames raced to within 30 feet of a large two-story landmark home owned by Dr. and Mr. James C. Brown parents of six children. Huge avocado trees in the path of the blaze were destroyed.
Inside the home, Mrs. Brown said she didn't know there was a fire until fire trucks screamed into her driveway. She rushed three children who were home to a neighbor's house.
Firefighters were directed by the Batt. Chief Gary Goodwin who reported eight engine companies two patrol units and two camp crews were engaged.
Report of
the fire was turned in by Larry Arnold 13, of 1835 Valecito Ave, who
spotted smoke curling out of the canyon as he rode horseback across the
hills. The cause of the fire was under investigation.
1963 8 years old
Prayer
The power
of prayer is great. Prayer helps you develop faith and a testimony of the
gospel. Many faith stimulating experiences have happened to almost
everybody. Take for instance in our family when our home was threatened by
fire. Each person said their own prayer, aloud or silently but from the
heart and our home was saved. Later we learned that the northward wind
that miraculously save our home, blew the fire toward another home, owned by
the Smiths (Not Pres Smith). The Smith family had gathered in prayer and
asked Heavenly Father to protect them. Immediately a westward wind pushed the
fire back into the canyon and extinguished it. The fireman called it
"a rare coincidence" that two winds should suddenly come up and save
the homes. But we knew it was more than just a "rare coincidence"
. That night when we held family prayer, we felt closer than ever to our Father
in Heaven.
Another time when I was five or six, my brother Charles fell out of the car and injured his head quite seriously. My mother stayed with him at the hospital and my father visited at frequent intervals. Every morning and every night we asked both in our family prayers and our private prayers for our Heavenly Father's help and guidance. Just before the operation the elders blessed Charles. then it was decided that the operation was not needed. Thus the power of prayer has helped our family, not only at these times, but other times as well.
1963, Written in the 1970s, 8 years old
Fire
My
parents' balconied, two-story home centered on a terraced green-crowned
hill, bordered on one side by a deep stream-etched, tree-tunneled ravine.
Headed by a small pond where I had spent afternoons jumping after frogs, a
foot-wide stream tripped over smooth rocks past logs and boulders, and coursed
under giant oak, elm, sycamore and even a couple of graceful weeping willow.
The tiny valley floor was covered with a lush ground creeper except
where ancient paths and horse trails treaded through and meandered up steep
weedy slopes to the winding highway on one side and my parents home on the other.
Walking home from school, my brothers and sisters and usually cut through this
little hideaway, wading barefoot in the stream, surprising jackrabbits and
occasionally a coyote or skunk, and filling our bellies with juicy blackberries
from a wild neck-high patch that smothered several acres, from the valley floor
and wandered towards our house.
Midway up
the terraced slope and ending just before the blackberry patch, a detached arm
of avocado trees curled around the hill. The trees were growing along two steep
terraces, one ten feet above the other, in parallel rows. Gnarled branches
intertwined and threw leafy veils over each other like an old women sharing a
blanket. Pulling the green skirts carefully aside, one had the awesome feeling
of walking inside an arched cathedral. A rich brown carpet of moist leaves
cushioned one's steps. My siblings and I each picked our very own special tree,
and while hugging a pulsing limb or squatting on the warm lap of my
tree, I liked to pretend it knew my voice and waited for my footstep.
Outside
the tree cave and following a path leading towards the canyon outlet, one
rounded a point which overlooked the entire ravine. At the bottom of the trail,
near the foot of the canyon and several yards, above the creek,
rambled a gigantic mulberry bush that we had christened the "Five-Room
Fort" because of the molded caverns inside its lacy interior. It was out
of earshot from my mother's call and so I snuck inside Saturday mornings to
escape chores or to relish a box of strawberry Jell-O swiped from the pantry
shelf.
When the
surrounding wild mustard and rye went emerald and soft in the spring after a
hard rain, it rolled from terrace to terrace in the waist-high grass, burrowing
and spinning breathlessly until the sky whirled and pinned me to the earth. The
canyon and hilly slope were a special childhood playground, filled with
treasured ,memories and shared secrets.
Then came
the fire. It started by a careless cigarette thrown over the edge of the
highway; it ate its way down the canyon side, claiming one willow, and raged up
the other side, devouring the blackberry patch. Licking its fiery breath at
my sacred avocado tunnel, it raced down the hillside again, picked off the
“Five-Room Fort", and left the lower half of the canyon utterly devastated.
How
clearly I remember the desolate scene I surveyed the neat morning from the
blackened point. A sickening stench assaulted my nostrils--a thick bitter odor
of burnt matter and death hung in the air. The earth was charred and
shouldering angrily. Scattered here and there were little piles of blanched
bones from small rodents unable to escape the fire. Trees and bushes surround
the ravine slumped in the heavy air like dangling skeletons . All that
remained of the "Five-Room Fort" was a white tangled web. Most of the
cave of avocado trees survived although it was scarred and hideously
transfigured. The magic and beauty was gone. Wounded branches and tendrils
writhed grotesquely. Some trees stood limp and wilting, while others crouched
stark and bare.
It was
gone. A whole world of beauty, childhood play and fantasy was vanished. Sitting
on my doorstep now and watching my children play, so many years later, I
shuttered to think what might have happened if I hadn't found that smoldering
rag in the kitchen broom closet.
1966 (Written 1973) 11 years old
Adolescent
Autobiography
My adolescent period began in the sixth grade. I was very mature for my age and always seemed about two years ahead of everyone else. In sixth grade I was sent to a new school. Friends mattered very much to me and adjusting to a whole different peer group was very traumatic.
I never really did feel as though I fit in, and spending much of my time daydreaming and in my own fantasy world marked this period in my life. One time some girls came to me and said that Mr. Linde, in talking about the girls in his class, had said that Tina somebody would be beautiful and that I would always be plain. I was hurt at first, then pretended I didn’t care. I did though, and more than ever I wanted to become rich, famous, beautiful and popular, then everyone could eat their hearts out.
I felt all out of sorts with myself in this transition between girlhood and womanhood. I'd rather have been a little girl again and not be weighed down with all the cares of the world (that's how I felt) or already through puberty and be right where I am now (a freshman in college). I had all sorts of strange ideas about sex in my head, from my own fantasies and what other children had told me and I think life in general frightened me because I wasn’t sure of myself or even liked me.
I went to Newton Junior High for two weeks of Seventh Grade then my mother switched me to Orange Grove, because the “environment” was better. It put me back with all the young people I had gone to grade school with.
I was excruciatingly self-conscious, and found it very hard to adjust. Most of my former friends had formed little tight social clicks. I didn’t like crowds or groups. They seemed to confining, restricted and sort of brainless, as if each person’s individualism was sucked up by the group’s personality usually dominated by one outstanding personality of the group. (At this time I was struggling with my own individuality.) I felt left out, resented it, and at the same time wanted to be on my own. I was also fiercely proud; if they want me, let them come to me. I began making friends with other kids who were left out of the social clicks, too, and we sort of formed our own groups. I could be a leader then, and my confidence increased somewhat.
I gradually pulled myself away from environments where sex was talked about. Most of the children did discuss it occasionally, but I didn’t feel good inside or about myself, and so I disdained with activity. I began to think of myself as sort of a philosopher, thinking very seriously about life and being very conscious of the difference in values a gospel background had given me. I thought I was very mature for my age---and probably was---however, I should have given the gospel and my family background more credit. I usually spend my lunch periods philosophizing about life and trying to understand it and human behavior.
During the middle of my seventh grade year I got braces on my teeth, my face began breaking out, and I was quite a bit taller than anyone else, and more physically mature. This added to my self-consciousness and feeling of conspicuousness. In eighth grade I began to lose some of my introspectiveness as my confidence began “waxing strong.” I got my braces off and got a retainer, but soon never wore it to school.
My adolescent period began in the sixth grade. I was very mature for my age and always seemed about two years ahead of everyone else. In sixth grade I was sent to a new school. Friends mattered very much to me and adjusting to a whole different peer group was very traumatic.
I never really did feel as though I fit in, and spending much of my time daydreaming and in my own fantasy world marked this period in my life. One time some girls came to me and said that Mr. Linde, in talking about the girls in his class, had said that Tina somebody would be beautiful and that I would always be plain. I was hurt at first, then pretended I didn’t care. I did though, and more than ever I wanted to become rich, famous, beautiful and popular, then everyone could eat their hearts out.
I felt all out of sorts with myself in this transition between girlhood and womanhood. I'd rather have been a little girl again and not be weighed down with all the cares of the world (that's how I felt) or already through puberty and be right where I am now (a freshman in college). I had all sorts of strange ideas about sex in my head, from my own fantasies and what other children had told me and I think life in general frightened me because I wasn’t sure of myself or even liked me.
I went to Newton Junior High for two weeks of Seventh Grade then my mother switched me to Orange Grove, because the “environment” was better. It put me back with all the young people I had gone to grade school with.
I was excruciatingly self-conscious, and found it very hard to adjust. Most of my former friends had formed little tight social clicks. I didn’t like crowds or groups. They seemed to confining, restricted and sort of brainless, as if each person’s individualism was sucked up by the group’s personality usually dominated by one outstanding personality of the group. (At this time I was struggling with my own individuality.) I felt left out, resented it, and at the same time wanted to be on my own. I was also fiercely proud; if they want me, let them come to me. I began making friends with other kids who were left out of the social clicks, too, and we sort of formed our own groups. I could be a leader then, and my confidence increased somewhat.
I gradually pulled myself away from environments where sex was talked about. Most of the children did discuss it occasionally, but I didn’t feel good inside or about myself, and so I disdained with activity. I began to think of myself as sort of a philosopher, thinking very seriously about life and being very conscious of the difference in values a gospel background had given me. I thought I was very mature for my age---and probably was---however, I should have given the gospel and my family background more credit. I usually spend my lunch periods philosophizing about life and trying to understand it and human behavior.
During the middle of my seventh grade year I got braces on my teeth, my face began breaking out, and I was quite a bit taller than anyone else, and more physically mature. This added to my self-consciousness and feeling of conspicuousness. In eighth grade I began to lose some of my introspectiveness as my confidence began “waxing strong.” I got my braces off and got a retainer, but soon never wore it to school.
1967
January 24, 12 years old
Language
Class,
Admission
One Cent
Everyone
has their own private fantasies or pleasures, but I think Disneyland is every
one's favorite. There are so many wonderful things to see on just Main Street
alone, that one has to crane their neck to try to take it all in. But of
all the fantastic things there are to see, I believe the Penny Arcade interests
me most.
Even the outside of the building cries for attention. All brightly lighted in a splash of bright colors and lighted with twinkling stars it is a remnant of other times remembered only in the heart of another and older generation. Inside there are rows upon rows of polished cash register like machines, blotted out by a few small dark and inquisitive onlookers. The protruding eye slots or machines are much like oversized mouths of tea pots. By paying the fee of one cent and cranking the lever at the side one soon sees a lively assortment of blushing maidens and their love sick beaus or courageous sheriffs gunning down evil doers and a number of glorious stage coach robberies. It is like going to the theater with only a cent for admission.
But what is really fun is to imagine someone whom is not quite such a good friend as the bad guy when you are the sheriff gunning him down.
Sometimes as I watch these miniature movies I wonder if we don't really miss something in this modern and advanced world of ours.
1968 February
Life
With My Brothers and Sisters
Life with
my five brothers and sisters has always been rather trying but I hadn't noticed
how trying it was until a little while ago as when the youngest were left in my
care.
It was the New Year's Even Dance of 1966. My mother and father and older sister were going and rather than have me alone in our big house with the youngsters they brought us in the camper with them to the dance.
All was going fine until my sister Judy decided she needed a drink of water. To do this she would have to climb over me, my brother Charles below us, and Jimmy, who slept on the floor in the sleeping bag. She was just making it passed me when I moved my leg slightly, unbalancing her. Down she came and landing head first in Charles stomach. Then, somersaulting over, she sat on Jimmy's head.
Two loud wails and one muffled one, rose high into the night. I remember wincing so. I thought how horrible it probably sounded to those at the dance. Climbing down I comforted Judy telling her she was more shocked and frightened than hurt. Then I made her stand up for she was still sitting on Jimmy. Fortunately for him he had covered his head with his pillow before the impact had hit, so he wasn't hurt very bad.
Settling Charles was easy enough. I just told him if he wasn't quiet the "boggy-man" would get him. suddenly I thought the bogey man really would come for even though the children had started clambering again, I could distinctly hear above the road, the sound of slow, heavy footsteps coming this way.
Desperately I clamped a pillow over Charles' mouth, drowned Judy in her drink of water and clasped my hand over Jimmy's mouth. But it was no use. No sooner did I hush one up, when the other would start again. I was ready to give up when suddenly I remembered the trick "Order in the court, speak monkey speak!" I cried above the wail. I yelled it so loud that little David, who was sleeping at the other end of the camper woke up. He would've added to the wailing but the meaning of the words hit him at the same time as the others.
Instantly there was an ominous silence five minutes. I realized then that the footsteps had turned away.
I looked around at my brothers and my sister and saw their own small hands clamped over their white faces; their eyes bulging to see who would be the monkey. It was then that the full halarity of the situation hit me. In a fit of hysterical laughter I doubled up on the floor and didn't mind at all that I was the monkey.
1968, Eighth Grade, 13 years old
"Feel
Joy"
I have
filled the requirements for Honor Badge No 7 in the field of Joy. I chose
this badge because10 dancing is not one of my stronger points, 20 this type of
dancing, (Ballroom style) will be useful for me when I go to Stake dances and
formals and 3) I enjoy dancing even if I do tread upon my poor partner's feet.
It was not my idea to start dancing lessons but my sweet mother read somewhere that a dance instructor would be giving dancing lessons at Newton Junior High School for anyone who would be interested. In talking with a friend of her's, my mother found about that her friend's daughter (who is my best friend) Arleen Montana would also be talking this course. Being the charming soul that she is (forever trying to improve her poor daughter's grace and poise) my mother enrolled both me and my lovely brother for 10 weeks (one lesson a week) of dancing. You can imagine our delight when we found out. I did, however meet many new friends, not to say enemies of the people I met and danced with.
Among the steps they taught me were the tango (my favorite), the fox trot, swing, box step and several others. I either can remember or don't want to. The twist and cha-cha-cha are a few of the more charming ones I would prefer not to know.
All of the boys sat on one side of the room (naturally), 90% of the kids who signed up were little seventh graders. I think Arleen and I were the only eighth grade girls and I know only three boys were, and half the time they never showed up. As a result, Aileen and I ended up dancing with little puny guys hardly taller than our elbows.
Due to the lack of boys present the girls had to rotate around so that all of the girls would have a chance to dance. As soon as each dance was over each boy dragged the girl he was dancing with back, to her seat, shoved her in it and ran back to his side of the room. Not only was it hilarious, but it was rather un-dignifying for the young lady.
After each dance session was over we had free "dancing" for 10 minutes where we could, talk, stand and talk, sit and talk, sit, stand, dance to our music, dance to their music, dance, wait for our rides, or do nothing t. We usually did nothing. We had a great time.
After all the lessons were through we had a party for our parents to show them what we had leaned. One parent showed up. We knew nothing and we did nothing. The refreshments were very good, however.
A few couples came home with prizes for dancing well (or in other words - in rhythm) As you can tell by this report I was not one of the winners.
Signed: Suzanne Brown, girl, Marjorie Brown, mother, Raeline Preciado, teacher and Angeline L. Burgess, Stake Beekeeper.
1968, 13 years old
Dear
Grandma,
Thank you
so much for your card. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. It was very nice of
you to send me that dollar too. After putting ten cents in the tithing I
thought and thought about what do do with the ninety cents I had left over. I
finally decided to put it in with the money I'm saving for college. Every
little big counts and I'm afraid I've let my savings dwindle considerable.
Next year I start 9th grade at Los Altos High School. In four more years I will be graduating like Johanna.
Our graduation ceremonies were real nice. Every one looked so pretty in their suits and new dresses. Many girls had their hair up. My hair is so long and thick that it would be too expensive to have it done so I just washed it and curled the ends. With my brown dress my hair looked blond. We didn't wear gowns at our school. Mr. Jolley our Principal asked Daddy to give the invocation and benediction. We didn't have a main speaker and since Mr. Jolley had liked Daddy's talk at the Baccalaureate Services last year so much he asked him to give the prayers.
Johann's graduation ceremony was right after wards at Los Altos stadium. We dashed over in time to hear hers. It was very nice. All the boys wore blue gowns and all the girls wore white - their school colors. After Graduation Johanna went to the all night party at Disneyland. School let out Thursday June 19. Even though I'm glad summer is here I miss my friends already and it is only June 20!
Daddy might enroll Johanna and I for Summer school at a church organization in Brigham Young University or some place like that. It will be exciting.
How are things your way? Have a pleasant summer.
Love you,
Suzanne
Brown
1970,
January, 15 years old
Life
and a Candle
Life is
like a candle sputtering in the dark, burring on a wick of uncertain length
which might be severed at any moment.
Like a flame gulping for air; we reach for truth and light.
Unlike
the candle, our life does not end when it reaches the end of its wick, but
burns on like a phoenix
Some flames will have the brightness of a star, the splendor of the moon or even the glory of the sun, according to how intensely they glowed while burning on the wick. For like the candle needing air to survive so must people have truth. But they can not only receive it, they must give also. How much giving and receiving combined, determine the intensity at which they burn after death.
I know a beautiful and wonderful man who lived his life to it's fullest extent and both gave and received truth. David O. McKay died last Sunday morning, at the age of 96, after living a long and prosperous life. But to say "died" in the right sense is really wrong. He went home. And I'm sure he will continue to live and be prosperous, burning as bright as he did while he lived on earth.
1970s
Haiku's
Death
steals softly by,
Passport
to another World
Leaving
some to cry....
The white
flying soul
Rushing
free, always homeward,
Racing
past the dim stars.
Leaves whipped by the wind,
Whirl in
their autumn death dance
Dreaming
of Rebirth.
1970, 15 years old
Cedar
Lake Camp
I arrived
at the church house early Monday morning, sleepy eyed and filled with
anticipation. I, my baggage, and my sleeping bag were all dumped
unceremoniously into the parking lot to wait for the arrival of the bus along
with all the other girls in my stake and get checked in. Finally it came and we
settled down for a hot dusty ride to Ceder Lake, Big Bear a good 2 hours
away. We sang and told ghost stories and jokes to keep our spirits up
Cedar Lake is a man--made lake surrounded by rickety cottages and a lodge. The lodge is very much like a hotel--each room is a carbon copy of the next. We arrived about noon and promptly set out to explore the place from top to bottom.
The food was fair and the beds so so, but we had a great time swimming, jogging, playing volleyball, sang a song and archery and making arts and crafts. I made a relief picture out of feather, flowers, a paper plate, macaroni and gold paint.
I also worked on my yearling award. I passed that and my test. First Aid which was a part of it. It will be very useful for my in the future at home or on camping trips.
We also had fun toilet papering people's units and playing with squirt guns. The camp had a store where we could buy candy and post cards.
On Thursday afternoon we went on an overnight hike and camp out. We hiked about 5 miles only to find we had gone around in a circle and were not more than 100 yards from the lodge!
We all had a wonderful time. Suzanne Brown.
1971, 16 years old
Dear
Grandma,
Thank you
so much! I got your package today and I love it. The two hat and purse sets are
a great addition to my wardrobe, and I'll really enjoy wearing them this year.
Your hats are so cute. In fact I'm wearing one now. I feel selfish having such nice things so I'm sharing them with my older sister. I can't wear two hats and carry two purses at the same time anyway.
My older sister Johanna is home from school now. She's getting married on the 24th of September - did Daddy tell you. She marrying a young man she met up at BYU. His name's Glen Goodman and he's from Live Oaks, California. He's really nice. We like him and he fits in with the family. Johanna is walking around on cloud nine.
It's really fun helping to plan the reception which will be at our house after the wedding in the Los Angeles Temple. Judy and I will be the bridesmaids. I'm almost as excited as Johanna is.
It will be sad, though. I'm going to miss her a lot. She's my best friend. Someday the same-thing will happen to me, I guess. I'm in no hurry though. I think I'd kind of like to go on a mission first.
Even though it's been a sort of boring Summer I wish school was about a month away. I had fun at camp this summer anyway. There's something really special about being up in the mountains with all the stars. It seems like your closer to heaven.
Love ya always
Suzanne
(Suzie) Brown.
P.S. Have
a nice day.
1970s
Haiku
Death
steals softly by,
Passport
to another World
Leaving
some to cry....
The white
flying soul
Rushing
free, always homeward,
Racing
past the dim stars.
Leaves whipped by the wind,
Whirl in
their autumn death dance
Dreaming
of Rebirth.
Suzanne
1971
16 years old
Brian
Horspool,
When
someone I am very close to, Marie, was a freshman and sophomore in high school,
she developed a big crush on Brian, an older LDS boy in a ward that shared the
same building as hers. He would show up for seminary with his younger brother
Dave, and visit with her in the church patio before, after, and sometimes
during seminary, then give Marie, her best friend Linda, his brother Dave, and
Dave's girlfriend Marcia, a ride to school in his new yellow Camaro.
Brian
was 22 years old, and had recently returned from serving in
the Marinas in Viet Nam. Since he was older and so much more experienced than
all the other boys at school and church, he seemed so much more fascinating to
Marie and her best friend, Linda, a great surfer, had a marvelous tan,
gorgeous thick blond hair, and sometimes grew a mustache and beard, he sang in
a rock band with his brother Dave and some other LDS youth and was the best
dancer that Marie had ever seen. Break-dancing was popular even then, and when
Brian met Marie at school and church dances, everyone cleared the floor to
watch them dance together. Everyone soon accepted Brian as Marie's guy, and it
gave her a tremendous source of pride to show him off to her school friends.
While in Viet Nam, Brian had begun
drinking and doing drugs, and while he never did this in front of Marie and
Linda, it was nevertheless common knowledge among the kids at
church, it was rumored that several boys in his ward , particularly
his brother and the guys in the rock band, began to pick up the same
habits. Somehow, these things just added to his sophistication and worldly
mystique. Marie's parents did not approve of Brian, and so Marie usually
arranged to meet him without telling her parents.
A few
months before Marie turned 16, the high school sponsored a Sadie Hawkins Dance,
and everyone, including Brian assumed that she was going to ask him to go with
her. She hadn't figured out how she was going to get around her parents No-Dating-Until-Sixteen
Rule, but she imagined that she could easily meet him at her girlfriend
Linda's. As the time drew nearer for the dance, however,
Marie's conscience began to bother her. Mentally she began comparing him to
another young man in her ward who was a priest and senior in high school. This
young man, whose name was Ken, was president of his seminary class and active
in school politics. He was wholesome and clean cut, and every Sunday worthily
blessed the Sacrament. Even though Marie rarely talked or associated with Ken,
she watched him every Sunday sitting up at the Sacrament table, so handsome in
his suit and his humble but confidant manner, and in her heart she yearned to
have a boyfriend like him. The Sunday before the dance she asked Ken after
church if he would go with her. He said that he would think about it and let
her know. Well, the next morning, at seminary, Ken told Marie that he decided
no, and did not tell her why. Marie thought that it was because he was hoping
another girl in the ward would ask him. Although she was mortified, she knew
that Brian was still expecting her to ask him. She debated in her mind whether
or not to go ahead and ask Brian as her second choice, her best friend Linda
came up to her and asked... .are you going to ask Brian or aren’t you? Because,
if you're not, I wondered if it would be alright with you if I asked
him to go with me?"
Marie
thought about this a bit, and knew that if she told Linda to go ahead and ask
Brian, that she would probably end up staying home that night, one of the few
girls in the church and school who did. But she also knew that in her heart she
had made a commitment to like the kind of young man that Ken represented, and
be the kind of girl that he would like to go with, even though he had turned
her down. So she pretended that she didn't care and told Linda to go ahead.
That
Saturday night Marie stayed home with her family, washed her hair, went to bed
early, and tried not to feel sorry for herself. She comforted herself with the
knowledge that the next day she could call Linda and she would tell her
everything that happened.
The next
morning in church, Marie did not see Linda, so she anxiously called
her when she got home, only to find out that Linda had spent the night in jail!
and had only just been released. It seems that Linda's parents had let her go
on a double date with Brian and his brother Dave and Dave's girlfriend Marcia,
all of whom were LDS, even though Linda was not 16 yet. They had had a
wonderful time at the dance, and after wards, went to Taco Bell. About 1 am, a
police car pulled up beside them and the police searched them and the car and
found some marijuana and other drugs in the trunk. They impounded the car and
threw all of them in jail. They separated the boys and girls and put them
in separate drunk tanks--one for men and the other for women. Linda described
the terror she and Brian felt spending the night in this dismal room with
prostitutes, drunks, and drug addicts, the vomit on though floor, the graffiti
on the walls, the bare light bulb, exposed toilet, the foul language of
the occupants, the humility of being thoroughly searched by
female police officers etc. These two LDS girls, who had gone
with LDS boys whom they knew had bad standards, huddled together in a
corner of the jail and sang primary songs together throughout the remainder of
the night, until their parents could come and get them. Charges against the
girls were dropped, but Brian faced some years in jail and several thousand
dollars in fines because this was a second offense for him.
Marie was
stunned. She went outside to climb an old avocado tree and ponder this while
waiting for her father to get home so she could tell him. Suddenly the
standards that her parents upheld seemed less restrictive and more protective
than ever. As she pondered this and prayed to ask the Lord to bless and help
Brian, she began praying for herself too, as she realized how close she had
come to spending the night in jail instead of Linda. She knew that she had no
business even associating with a boy like Brian, and the more she thought about
it, the harder she began to pray for the Lord's help in her life for the first
time— Then as still as a summer's day, she felt the Lord speak peace to her
mind and spirit, and assure her that he had been with her in the past,
was with her now, and would still be with her in the future. This was a turning
point in Marie's life and personal standards. A few months later
she began to go with a young man who was preparing himself to go on
a mission.
1971
16 years old
Johanna
and Brian,
Now I think its time to talk about my family. I am the second oldest of six children. I mostly just tolerated my younger brothers and sisters during this period of my life, except for my older sister. When I was little she didn’t have much to do with me, but I matured quickly and eventually we became more like twins, than sisters with 3 and a half years difference in age. In fact, many people thought I was older, or that I was her (if they hadn’t seen the family for several years). This was much to my delight and her chagrin. She became a freshman at BYU when I entered high school as a freshman.
At first I really didn’t miss her. I loved her, but I was glad for the independence and responsibility of being the oldest child now. Because of our age difference, it was more like there were two oldest children in the family rather than one oldest and a second oldest child. When she came home he first summer after BYU, she was disgusting (to me) her head was in the clouds. Her whole life centered around BYU, her friends up there, and Glenn (who is now her hubby). I understand now why since I have come up here, however at the time I didn’t and I was upset. I even cried a little because I realized our relationship would never be the same. She was slipping away from me and I didn’t know how to become a part of her life again.
My mother and I have become close only the past few years. She wants very much for her children to live the standards of the church—so much so, that when she disciplined me, she used punishment, both physical and psychological. When she did compliment me on good behavior, I felt like I was being patronized. Whenever I told her things she seemed quick to judge, criticizes and give out advice. I soon became hesitant to tell her much of anything. I often I felt like she was a tyrant and didn’t love me, while going through the turbulence of adolescence. I was angry with her because I felt she didn’t understand what I was trying to express and really felt. I rebelled and usually tuned her out whenever she began nagging and scolding—it was the only way I could retain my self-dignity when she used psychological punishment. Instead of wishing to change my behavior, I became defensive about it. I used to try so hard to be independent. It seemed as if she stifled me and wouldn’t let me grow up. I resented her advice as much or more than her scolding’s. As: I matured and began to understand her more and realize that she really did love me, probably as much as my dad did, and that in her way was trying to express it, we began to have a different relationship. It was a slow painful process—especially on my part, because I think I did most of the changing. Also, as I myself began to find my own identity, and feel good about who I was, she didn’t seem to threaten me so much. I began to look at things from her point of view.
My father has played the most important role in my development. He is a Stake President, and while I resented being labeled as a stake-president’s daughter and often felt put on the spot for it, there was nothing to resent in the type of individual or father he is. I loved him more than anything else. He was strict with me, but it didn’t seem that way because I knew he loved me so much. Whenever he disciplined me, I always knew he had my best interests at heart—even when I disagreed with him. How can you argue that? I think he could have made me do anything.
I knew he wouldn’t ask me to do anything he didn’t think was best for me. I felt that he respected me, that I was important and worthwhile. He trusted me. His love and confidence in me has helped me raise to my better self on many occasions. He disciplined more with positive reinforcement—noticing and complimenting good behavior. He merely had to look reproachfully at me when I wasn’t behaving properly, and I’d feel terrible. I felt he listened to me. He wasn’t quick to judge or dish out advice unless I asked for it and the more I knew I could go to him with a problem, the more I asked for his advice. I think many times I worked my frustrations out myself just hearing myself talk and knowing someone understood. It was comforting to know he understood my frustrations, even though I knew he couldn’t do anything about them. They deemed to be easier to bear.
He has taught me more about life, love and my Heavenly Father, by the type of man and father he is. It became easy for me to have a warm loving relationship with my Heavenly parent because I think my dad must be very much like Him. I want to do the will of my Father in Heaven. Even when the way seems difficult and the commandments hard to live, I know Heavenly Father would not ask me to do anything that would not make me happier in the long run and was not for my growth and progression.
One time when my dad and I were talking, he looked at me and said, “Honey, if anything ever happened to you, I would die.” And I knew he would. I have never wanted to do anything that would hurt my dad, and I now would rather die than hurt either my earthly father or my Heavenly Father, because of the pain I know it would cause them both.
I had always admired clean cut, fine young men, but being torn between eternal values and worldly standards, I fell madly infatuated with a twenty-two year old man who just returned from the marines. He was handsome, tall, blond, blue-eyed, and well built. He drove a new Camaro, sang in a group, and had long hair. He was an outrageous flirt, enjoyed my attention, and actually was rather crude. He made a big show of going to church and meekly following the commandments, but it was more lip service than real intent.
I’d heard he’d been quite wild before joining the marines, and still got drunk on occasion, but I didn’t want to believe it. Not my Brian. My parents didn’t like him at all, and were quite upset when I agreed to meet him at school dances. We were both in a stake play together and sometimes he took me home. I began to feel uncomfortable with him. I thought maybe it was I at first—that I was too stiff, but then I realized I was seeing through him. He seemed more and more crude and phony, and I gradually became disgusted with him, and took interest elsewhere. When he was around Melinda (my best friend) and I He was really pretty good, but there was a spirit about him that made me feel awful to be with him.
A Sadie Hawkin’s Dance came up at school. I decided not to ask him and asked another young man who turned me down. I debated about going with him, but decided I’d rather stay home. My girlfriend Melinda asked if she could go with him and I pretended I didn’t care. The night of the dance we all went to a drug seminar at the church. He sat by me, and then left with Melinda for the dance. The next day I got a call from Melinda, who had spent the night in jail—Brian was picked up for possession of marijuana! And to think I’d almost gone with him. (I could see it now—“Stake-president’s daughter picked up for possession.”) I was appalled to think I had even liked such an ogre. Brian had already received one offense, and if he was convicted this time he could receive a fine of $10,000, and up to five years in prison on a felony charge. I ran outside, climbed a big avocado tree, and sobbed my heart out. I prayed that if he was guilty that he would be justly punished. I cried for him, for Melinda, and mostly for myself, realizing that I needed to readjust my values. Did I want to be like him, or did I want to live up to my high and holy station as a daughter of Deity?
I beat on that tree and sobbed and cried and poured my whole heart out to the Lord, begging him with all the anguish of my soul to please help me become the young lady I was foreordained and called to became. Every so gently and softly, a peaceful feeling filled my heart, and the words came to mind, “Have I not been with you in the past? Will I not be with you now and forever more?” I sat up, stopped beating on the tree, dried my eyes, and decided maybe there was hope for me yet.
Brian was released: illegal search procedure on the part of the policeman; but that incident marked a great change in my life. I began doing some intense self-evaluation and interior redecorating, so to speak. I began rejecting the standards of the world and striving to make gospel principles the foundation of my character. I began studying the scriptures and praying daily—I hadn’t been because my conscience bothered me too much when I did before. I became extremely concerned for the welfare of others and began making an effort to notice those who were left out of activities or were lonely or inactive at church—remembering my own acute self-consciousness. I was called to be Mia Maid class president in my sophomore year in high school. I centered all of my energies and ability on my girls in my class and anyone else I thought needed help. I helped bring up the activity of the class from 50% to 95%. Many of the girls who were inactive just needed to feel wanted. When a girl didn’t come to mutual I wrote her a letter or called her up.
I became very concerned about the example I set before others, realizing that the best way I could help “my girls” was to show them how to live. I couldn’t expect them to do anything that I wasn’t doing.
I also began going around with a very fine young man who soon left on his mission. Although he always been more of a buddy than a boyfriend, I sat him or (or rather the type of person he is), up as a standard, an ideal by which I have since judged all other young men. He has influenced my life more for good by the type of individual he is than any other person outside my own family.
In short, I think I really matured and grew up when I began to establish as priorities in my own life the gospel principles, think of others, and learn that the world didn’t revolve totally around me.
Now I think its time to talk about my family. I am the second oldest of six children. I mostly just tolerated my younger brothers and sisters during this period of my life, except for my older sister. When I was little she didn’t have much to do with me, but I matured quickly and eventually we became more like twins, than sisters with 3 and a half years difference in age. In fact, many people thought I was older, or that I was her (if they hadn’t seen the family for several years). This was much to my delight and her chagrin. She became a freshman at BYU when I entered high school as a freshman.
At first I really didn’t miss her. I loved her, but I was glad for the independence and responsibility of being the oldest child now. Because of our age difference, it was more like there were two oldest children in the family rather than one oldest and a second oldest child. When she came home he first summer after BYU, she was disgusting (to me) her head was in the clouds. Her whole life centered around BYU, her friends up there, and Glenn (who is now her hubby). I understand now why since I have come up here, however at the time I didn’t and I was upset. I even cried a little because I realized our relationship would never be the same. She was slipping away from me and I didn’t know how to become a part of her life again.
My mother and I have become close only the past few years. She wants very much for her children to live the standards of the church—so much so, that when she disciplined me, she used punishment, both physical and psychological. When she did compliment me on good behavior, I felt like I was being patronized. Whenever I told her things she seemed quick to judge, criticizes and give out advice. I soon became hesitant to tell her much of anything. I often I felt like she was a tyrant and didn’t love me, while going through the turbulence of adolescence. I was angry with her because I felt she didn’t understand what I was trying to express and really felt. I rebelled and usually tuned her out whenever she began nagging and scolding—it was the only way I could retain my self-dignity when she used psychological punishment. Instead of wishing to change my behavior, I became defensive about it. I used to try so hard to be independent. It seemed as if she stifled me and wouldn’t let me grow up. I resented her advice as much or more than her scolding’s. As: I matured and began to understand her more and realize that she really did love me, probably as much as my dad did, and that in her way was trying to express it, we began to have a different relationship. It was a slow painful process—especially on my part, because I think I did most of the changing. Also, as I myself began to find my own identity, and feel good about who I was, she didn’t seem to threaten me so much. I began to look at things from her point of view.
My father has played the most important role in my development. He is a Stake President, and while I resented being labeled as a stake-president’s daughter and often felt put on the spot for it, there was nothing to resent in the type of individual or father he is. I loved him more than anything else. He was strict with me, but it didn’t seem that way because I knew he loved me so much. Whenever he disciplined me, I always knew he had my best interests at heart—even when I disagreed with him. How can you argue that? I think he could have made me do anything.
I knew he wouldn’t ask me to do anything he didn’t think was best for me. I felt that he respected me, that I was important and worthwhile. He trusted me. His love and confidence in me has helped me raise to my better self on many occasions. He disciplined more with positive reinforcement—noticing and complimenting good behavior. He merely had to look reproachfully at me when I wasn’t behaving properly, and I’d feel terrible. I felt he listened to me. He wasn’t quick to judge or dish out advice unless I asked for it and the more I knew I could go to him with a problem, the more I asked for his advice. I think many times I worked my frustrations out myself just hearing myself talk and knowing someone understood. It was comforting to know he understood my frustrations, even though I knew he couldn’t do anything about them. They deemed to be easier to bear.
He has taught me more about life, love and my Heavenly Father, by the type of man and father he is. It became easy for me to have a warm loving relationship with my Heavenly parent because I think my dad must be very much like Him. I want to do the will of my Father in Heaven. Even when the way seems difficult and the commandments hard to live, I know Heavenly Father would not ask me to do anything that would not make me happier in the long run and was not for my growth and progression.
One time when my dad and I were talking, he looked at me and said, “Honey, if anything ever happened to you, I would die.” And I knew he would. I have never wanted to do anything that would hurt my dad, and I now would rather die than hurt either my earthly father or my Heavenly Father, because of the pain I know it would cause them both.
I had always admired clean cut, fine young men, but being torn between eternal values and worldly standards, I fell madly infatuated with a twenty-two year old man who just returned from the marines. He was handsome, tall, blond, blue-eyed, and well built. He drove a new Camaro, sang in a group, and had long hair. He was an outrageous flirt, enjoyed my attention, and actually was rather crude. He made a big show of going to church and meekly following the commandments, but it was more lip service than real intent.
I’d heard he’d been quite wild before joining the marines, and still got drunk on occasion, but I didn’t want to believe it. Not my Brian. My parents didn’t like him at all, and were quite upset when I agreed to meet him at school dances. We were both in a stake play together and sometimes he took me home. I began to feel uncomfortable with him. I thought maybe it was I at first—that I was too stiff, but then I realized I was seeing through him. He seemed more and more crude and phony, and I gradually became disgusted with him, and took interest elsewhere. When he was around Melinda (my best friend) and I He was really pretty good, but there was a spirit about him that made me feel awful to be with him.
A Sadie Hawkin’s Dance came up at school. I decided not to ask him and asked another young man who turned me down. I debated about going with him, but decided I’d rather stay home. My girlfriend Melinda asked if she could go with him and I pretended I didn’t care. The night of the dance we all went to a drug seminar at the church. He sat by me, and then left with Melinda for the dance. The next day I got a call from Melinda, who had spent the night in jail—Brian was picked up for possession of marijuana! And to think I’d almost gone with him. (I could see it now—“Stake-president’s daughter picked up for possession.”) I was appalled to think I had even liked such an ogre. Brian had already received one offense, and if he was convicted this time he could receive a fine of $10,000, and up to five years in prison on a felony charge. I ran outside, climbed a big avocado tree, and sobbed my heart out. I prayed that if he was guilty that he would be justly punished. I cried for him, for Melinda, and mostly for myself, realizing that I needed to readjust my values. Did I want to be like him, or did I want to live up to my high and holy station as a daughter of Deity?
I beat on that tree and sobbed and cried and poured my whole heart out to the Lord, begging him with all the anguish of my soul to please help me become the young lady I was foreordained and called to became. Every so gently and softly, a peaceful feeling filled my heart, and the words came to mind, “Have I not been with you in the past? Will I not be with you now and forever more?” I sat up, stopped beating on the tree, dried my eyes, and decided maybe there was hope for me yet.
Brian was released: illegal search procedure on the part of the policeman; but that incident marked a great change in my life. I began doing some intense self-evaluation and interior redecorating, so to speak. I began rejecting the standards of the world and striving to make gospel principles the foundation of my character. I began studying the scriptures and praying daily—I hadn’t been because my conscience bothered me too much when I did before. I became extremely concerned for the welfare of others and began making an effort to notice those who were left out of activities or were lonely or inactive at church—remembering my own acute self-consciousness. I was called to be Mia Maid class president in my sophomore year in high school. I centered all of my energies and ability on my girls in my class and anyone else I thought needed help. I helped bring up the activity of the class from 50% to 95%. Many of the girls who were inactive just needed to feel wanted. When a girl didn’t come to mutual I wrote her a letter or called her up.
I became very concerned about the example I set before others, realizing that the best way I could help “my girls” was to show them how to live. I couldn’t expect them to do anything that I wasn’t doing.
I also began going around with a very fine young man who soon left on his mission. Although he always been more of a buddy than a boyfriend, I sat him or (or rather the type of person he is), up as a standard, an ideal by which I have since judged all other young men. He has influenced my life more for good by the type of individual he is than any other person outside my own family.
In short, I think I really matured and grew up when I began to establish as priorities in my own life the gospel principles, think of others, and learn that the world didn’t revolve totally around me.
1971 -72 Suzanne, 16 -17 years old
Self
Confidence
As my confidence increased, I began caring more what my friends thought. I began having hassles with my mother over dress lengths and clothes. I felt that I was happier at school with my friends and others than at home. My friends meant so much to me, and increasing conflicts with my mother made me feel pulled between two opposite poles—values that my parents wanted for me and being accepted by my peers. I wanted somehow to reconcile the two if I could, and so was constantly struggling within myself, and with my parents. I wanted desperately to be liked by others, and at the same time, like myself. This took some juggling around.
The summer between 8th and 9th grades was a big step in my life also. I went to a BYU Youth Activity Week and fell in love with the “Y”. I was voted most outstanding girl on my floor. I also got my first kiss that summer when I went to the beach with my MIA group. It was from some beach bum who I was sure was just as sweet and innocent as I was.
Ninth grade was one of intense attachment to my peers. I was excited about being with the big kids; I had crushes on all the older guys and I cared more what my friends thought than my grades or even my parents sometimes. My mother seemed fanatical about my dress lengths, and I was just as determined, as she was—not to wear them long. At night I secretly took my hems up. Shopping with her was a hassle, too, trying to find something we both liked that was long enough to please her and short enough to satisfy me. When she caught my hems that I had secretly taken up a little—she was furious. We had a big show down between her and my dad. It seems ridiculous now that it should have been so blown out of proportion. I felt like I had done the unpardonable sin. I just couldn’t understand or feel that Heavenly Father wanted his daughter to look like a frump, and I didn’t think I was being unreasonable. I just wanted to wear dresses that would be long enough to please my parents and short enough to make me acceptable at school. Why couldn’t we compromise? Obviously, teaching me the letter of the law was useless because I hadn’t caught the spirit of it yet. My dad listened quietly to both my mother’s righteous wrath and my tearful defense. My mother washed her hands of all responsibility for my disobedience. My father decided that he would take responsibility for me. He said I should be old enough to be deciding for myself what was modest and wholesome.
He said "I believe you do want to do the right things and so I'm going to let you be responsible for what you wear. I want you to prayerfully consider with the Lord each item that you buy and I want you to only purchase those things which you honestly feel are modest wholesome and pleasing to the Lord. Those things which will help you look like a true daughter of God. If you have any doubts or questions come to me, and I'll be happy to talk to you about it."
This put a whole different light on things. It made me responsible for my own actions and accountable to the Lord for the. This was the start of my search for "that something." and as I have grown closer to the savior through studying, pondering, praying and living the gospel, the knowledge of my divine soul has become more and more a reality to me. And I know the Lord has helped me through my life, particularly in his selection of a mate for me. Kent
His desire to do the right thing. Patriarch in my home, love and cherish him.
I would select clothing that I thought would be pleasing to my Heavenly father, and then come to him for finality in cases of doubt. What a switch! In a twinkling I was transformed from the role of a resentful child into that of a responsible individual. I was pleased with his trust in me and vowed to live up to it. After that living the letter of the law became easier because I began to catch the spirit of it. I’m sure my mother never would have believed I was the same daughter if she could have heard me talking about dress standards at a Youth conference only a year or so later. I was helping other girls catch the spirit of modesty, purity, dressing and acting like a daughter of God. Dress standards had become a way of looking and being like a daughter of God—not something my mother tried to force on me out of cruelty and insensitivity.
As my confidence increased, I began caring more what my friends thought. I began having hassles with my mother over dress lengths and clothes. I felt that I was happier at school with my friends and others than at home. My friends meant so much to me, and increasing conflicts with my mother made me feel pulled between two opposite poles—values that my parents wanted for me and being accepted by my peers. I wanted somehow to reconcile the two if I could, and so was constantly struggling within myself, and with my parents. I wanted desperately to be liked by others, and at the same time, like myself. This took some juggling around.
The summer between 8th and 9th grades was a big step in my life also. I went to a BYU Youth Activity Week and fell in love with the “Y”. I was voted most outstanding girl on my floor. I also got my first kiss that summer when I went to the beach with my MIA group. It was from some beach bum who I was sure was just as sweet and innocent as I was.
Ninth grade was one of intense attachment to my peers. I was excited about being with the big kids; I had crushes on all the older guys and I cared more what my friends thought than my grades or even my parents sometimes. My mother seemed fanatical about my dress lengths, and I was just as determined, as she was—not to wear them long. At night I secretly took my hems up. Shopping with her was a hassle, too, trying to find something we both liked that was long enough to please her and short enough to satisfy me. When she caught my hems that I had secretly taken up a little—she was furious. We had a big show down between her and my dad. It seems ridiculous now that it should have been so blown out of proportion. I felt like I had done the unpardonable sin. I just couldn’t understand or feel that Heavenly Father wanted his daughter to look like a frump, and I didn’t think I was being unreasonable. I just wanted to wear dresses that would be long enough to please my parents and short enough to make me acceptable at school. Why couldn’t we compromise? Obviously, teaching me the letter of the law was useless because I hadn’t caught the spirit of it yet. My dad listened quietly to both my mother’s righteous wrath and my tearful defense. My mother washed her hands of all responsibility for my disobedience. My father decided that he would take responsibility for me. He said I should be old enough to be deciding for myself what was modest and wholesome.
He said "I believe you do want to do the right things and so I'm going to let you be responsible for what you wear. I want you to prayerfully consider with the Lord each item that you buy and I want you to only purchase those things which you honestly feel are modest wholesome and pleasing to the Lord. Those things which will help you look like a true daughter of God. If you have any doubts or questions come to me, and I'll be happy to talk to you about it."
This put a whole different light on things. It made me responsible for my own actions and accountable to the Lord for the. This was the start of my search for "that something." and as I have grown closer to the savior through studying, pondering, praying and living the gospel, the knowledge of my divine soul has become more and more a reality to me. And I know the Lord has helped me through my life, particularly in his selection of a mate for me. Kent
His desire to do the right thing. Patriarch in my home, love and cherish him.
I would select clothing that I thought would be pleasing to my Heavenly father, and then come to him for finality in cases of doubt. What a switch! In a twinkling I was transformed from the role of a resentful child into that of a responsible individual. I was pleased with his trust in me and vowed to live up to it. After that living the letter of the law became easier because I began to catch the spirit of it. I’m sure my mother never would have believed I was the same daughter if she could have heard me talking about dress standards at a Youth conference only a year or so later. I was helping other girls catch the spirit of modesty, purity, dressing and acting like a daughter of God. Dress standards had become a way of looking and being like a daughter of God—not something my mother tried to force on me out of cruelty and insensitivity.
1973
Poem by Suzanne
Poem by Suzanne
Like as
the evening sun
dances
upon thy hair
As thine
eyes do warmly twinkle
When
gently in mine they stare.
And even as the sun
doth rise
up on the morn
So they
smile lights up the night
When on
my soul is born
Such gentle sweet oblivion
upon they
tender breast
Surpasses
many a velvet cushion
where on
my head may rest
No gentle kiss of rain
upon the
rose's lips
Compares
to that thou givest me
When nigh
the day is quit.
Date
unknown: My Future Husband
must be
exceptional in thought and action
following
all commandments
be very
close to the Lord
Make a
"celestial" father
Have a
deep concern for other people.
Positions I'd like to hold, date unknown
· Wife of a church leader
· a teacher especially of little
children
· in the YWMIA presidency
· an officer in the relief Society
Presidency
· a secretary
· a church young women's adviser to
the young women of the church
· People Most likely to obtain
positions in the church
·
Eric and Earl Bladh
Eric and Earl Bladh
· Doral Vance
· Alan Lee
· Julie Spakman
· Milinda Romney
· Cheryl Lorke
· Avid Clingo
· Scot Florence.
Stand up
his rights.
1970s, On a Date
I will:
1. Not
invite parking or petting and refuse to do so
2. Always
remember who I am and remember that "if my
future
husband were to see me now would he still love and be proud of me?"
3. Keep
my morals high
4.
Respect him and his wishes
5. Not let
my own personal problems keep him from having a pleasant evening.
6. Remain
a lady
7. Do
what he wants to do even if I don't want as long as it is in keeping with the
standards I have set
8 Be
myself
9. Only
date people I would want to marry
1972
August 25, 3 a.m. Dinkey Creek, 17 years old
Dear
Terry Blocker,
What in
the world am I doing writing a letter at this time in the morning. Well,
it's a long story.
I'm still up at Dinkey Creek. We'' be leaving Saturday morning (26th). Dinkey Creek is really Fresno Municipal camp. About 20 families in our stake rented it for the week. And I AM BORED OUT OF MY GOURD! There are only 3 other kids my age and older....one's married, one left 2 days ago and the other is square much like my brother. I'm surprised he isn't. All he ever does is play chess all day long anyway (what a drag).
The surroundings up here are beautiful - clear blue skies, tall pine trees, creeds and fresh water ponds to swim in, a big full moon every night etc. It's great if your a little kid "cuz there's millions of other little kids to play in the dirt, mud water with. Or if I were 14 like my little sister I could follow all the 15, 15 year old guys around and giggle and be really dumb. Or if I were an adult I could sit around the campfire at night singing old songs, tell jokes and stories and reminisce about the good old days, and crochet or play horseshoes by day.
Well I figured if you can't beat 'em join 'em. so I had my first motorcycle lesson and learned how to ride it...in first gear only. Next lesson, I learn how to shift gears and let out the clutch without killing it., I played a ping pong tournament and lost twice to two girls, both younger and half my size. I sit around the campfires and occasionally even contribute a dead joke. I even sit i the dirt and the mud and the water and play with the little kids; Oh! I'll have you know my team won in volleyball twice.
Tomorrow (oops! today) I'll have a chess lesson, toss a few horseshoes and maybe just maybe I'll take up crocheting. Don't get your hopes up, though. (Sorry this writing is weird, but it's hard to write in bed by flashlight). Anyhow even with this I'm still bored. I can't stand not doing things or having to do things or something. So another girl and I put our heads together and planned some fun. We got all the kids together and played some games like spoons, jinx up, water balloon toss and a tug of war (with a mud puddle in the middle). For prizes we have whip cream, shaving cream spray cans, water guns and water balloons and we all had a rip-roaring fight. Then, when every one was plastered, we all ran down to the creek and jumped in, clothes and all. Above the creek there's a steep wall of rick and we climb up there and jump off. You might think you'll hit bottom since the deepest part of the ponds about 4 feet but you don't.
So why 3 am.? I'm waiting at the hour for your letter. well after skits tonight. Dela and I ran to the store bought some toilet paper and are waiting for everybody to get really deep in sleep, then we'll plaster the place. Maybe it's dumb but when your desperate for anything. Don't make the mistake of confusing fun with immaturity. there's quiet a difference. Well it's time to wake up and get busy.
Good Bye,
Suzanne.
1970s
"I'll
Get You Yet, Calico Baron"
He crept
stealthily forward upon his unsuspecting foe, careful not to disturb his
unconcerned slumber, crouching low into the tall grass, he made ready for
the kill. Certain of victory he leaped.
But alas
his enemy's trained sixth sense warned him in time to roll away from the
onslaught, but not without a well aimed whack across the snout from his
ambusher.
E-gads!
The odds were against him now, both in size and strength. Goodbye sweet
world! The Calico Baron will have another victim's blood on his hands.
Please let it come quick.
But he
was not to have his wish, for the Baron chose to torture his dark little
assailer - he sat on him; his huge bulk squashing his prisoner flat
against the ground. But even this was not enough to satisfy his
blood thirsty mind for he then began the water torture.
Shadow
jumped into his protector's arms to be whisked away. Another victory won for
the minority breed.
1970s
My
Father
His tread
on the walk is slow and full of care. His head is bent and full of
thought. The useful hands are clasped and still behind his back.
The eyes are troubled and hard upon the ground. He is like old father
time himself, bent with the cares of thee world.
But never
too careful and slow is his tread to become quick and lively and full of
play. Never too bent in his head in thought to brighten and smile and be
gay. Never too clasped and still are the hands to grasp in warm and
friendly handshake; or the eyes too troubled and hard upon the ground to twinkle
with mischief and fun. He is like the sun come out on a cloudy day.
These are
some of the many faces of the man I love and respect most, my
father.
Suzanne
Brown Period 1
1972 –
1973
A
Garden, Strangled by Weeds English 111, 17, 18 years old
My dear,
I have been very concerned lately about the complete change that has come over you in the last few months. Indeed, I think a better word to describe how I have been feeling is disturbed, so much so, that I have not been able to eat, sleep, do schoolwork, or anything of the last three weeks. I have been a very sensitive, deeply spiritual and emotional young man whom I loved very much and who was striving very hard to live as his Father in Heaven would have him, seem to become absolutely unreasonable, hard and very proud, oblivious to any point of view other than his own selfish ambitions.
I remember the first time I met you. It was at a Regional Young Adult activity last July. You were squatting on the ground during the lunch box auction by your friend Jack and you both glanced over at me. Your friendly, easy-going smile and twinkling blue eyes deeply impressed me. It seemed forever until we finally got around to introducing our selves before the evening was over. I asked you what your plans for the future were and you replied, to be a good member of the church. I started to explain what I had meant by the question when it occurred to me what could be more important than your answer? The rest of the evening passed too quickly. It seemed there wasn’t anything we didn’t have in common, even in the books we were reading. I was touched by your patriotism, love of freedom and keen interest in American’s history and destiny; your tremendous desire to serve the Lord in whatever capacity He called you, especially in working with others to spread the gospel like you had done on your mission; your desire to someday have a family and your eagerness to teach them the gospel; your sensitivity towards and enjoyment of beautiful literature (particularly Shakespeare) and nature. I remember you said there had hardly been a better feeling in your short life as that produced by the opportunity you'’ had to make a meal from the food grown in your own garden. Something about being close to the earth brought you nearer to God and other people. You offered to take me home and as I ran outside to tell my girlfriend I had another ride, I jumped up and down and shouted, “ I found him, I found him! He’s the one!”
We spent as much time as possible together before I had to leave for college. We went to the Los Angeles temple Visitor’s Center with a girlfriend of mine who was investigating the church, and you bought her a copy of A Marvelous Work and A Wonder by Le Grand Richards. You came over for Family Home Evening, gave the lesson, and brought me a beautiful bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums. We went to see “Romeo and Juliet” and the beauty of the deep passion and powerful words so moved you, you wept probably the only man in the whole theatre who did, and were unashamed.
You proudly showed me your garden. The tender tops of radishes and carrots were sprouting up in green profusion. There were a few weeds that needed to be pulled you said, but it was coming along pretty well. I remember how you wanted to be completely honest with me and so told me about a rather serious mistake you made over a year ago with a girl you had been going with. It was hard for you to talk and I watched a tear roll down your cheek. I loved you and forgave you with all my heart. We prayed together, usually going into my father’s study after a date and kneeling by the couch holding hands. I had never felt such intense joy or sweet peace as I did being with you, especially in these precious unforgettable moments. We read each other’s patriarchal blessings and thrilled to see how similar both of them were. We shared our inner space and shyly told the other of our love and special feelings of rightness bout the other. We wanted so much for our relationship to be an uplifting, exalting one, and we vowed to be very careful about the way we acted around each other.
While I was away at school we were both going to pray and read the scriptures daily, and you would go to the temple as much as possible. You came all the way up to see me at school for a few days and stayed a whole week. Remember when we drove up through Provo Canyon to have a picnic? That was the happiest time of my entire life. The hills were beginning to blush and turn a burnished gold; everything was radiant because we were. We held hands and dreamed of our future together. You said you loved me and of all things you wanted most in life, I was at the tope. I believed you, trusted you, and loved you with all my heart.
A month passed anxiously, and I didn’t hear from you. Then came a very short, one side of the page letter. You had been too busy with your paint business to think about writing at all. You hadn’t gone anywhere with anyone but your sister since you last saw me. I was a good girl and had helped you out a lot by just being around you, but I was up in Utah among all the good Mormons and going my way while you were working at home among the Gentiles and going your way. You signed it, “Work hard, Brad.” I didn’t understand I was confused and hurt. The next two weeks were hell until I finally was able to go home and confront you.
I was surprised that you didn’t seem to mind coming by the house and talking. You followed me into the study and I shut the door. At my request, we kneeled in prayer by the couch and you gave it. This time we did not hold hands and the space between us was awkward. Your words were sweet, but they washed over me; there was no spirit carried with them to touch my heart. It was like watching a man get up to speak, seeing his mouth move, and hearing no words, or consuming a luscious banquet and walking away still hungry.
You sat in the Rocking Chair
You sat in the rocking chair, leaned you head against the wooden back, and watched me coolly beneath your eyelashes, while I squirmed uncomfortably on the edge of a padded chair across from you. We looked at each other a minute, embarrassed, not knowing what to say. I plunged in and began, then periodically asked questions and commented while you did most of the talking. I stared at you, blinking, with my eyebrows knit together. You were pleasant to watch as you spoke freely and unconcerned in a calm, matter of fact way, but your words shocked me and your manner, attitude, and spirit disturbed me considerably. Was this the same man that had so captivated my heart a little while ago?
You woke up one day you said, and discovered you didn’t feel the same about me any more. Yes, you agreed that meant you must not have ever really loved or wanted me. You admitted you were afraid of man-woman relationship. You were afraid of being hurt, blowing it, or being stuck with the wrong girl. No, you were not going to do anything about trying to make sure you wouldn’t blow it. Women were silly and you had nothing in common with them. They should all be married and have children, you said. But as for you: you wanted no part of them or marriage. You had made up your mind when you were very little that you did not want any affection from anybody. (I heard you speak earlier of a certain religion teacher on campus that had been your mission president and you gave your opinion that he was effeminate. I wonder, my dear Brad, what your idea of a man is?) You would not date, and didn’t like having your emotions dependent on another individual. You wanted to be your own man, master of your own destiny. Maybe if everyone rode your back hard enough and since you can’t get anywhere in this church or the celestial kingdom without a wife you might go out and grab someone when you reached about thirty or so. Yes, you felt sorry for whomever you grabbed, but that’s just tough. Life is too exciting and you have too much you want to do. You really wouldn’t mind being a hermit except that you would miss people and you needed them, they made you happy. Anyway, all you cared about right now was getting this business venture of yours successful. No you weren’t doing it for money. You still slept on the floor and ate only one meal a day. You had moved out of the house into an apartment with a friend and while did not mention it. I knew that your garden lay neglected at home, the weeds choking and strangling what little life was left. You just wanted to help other men by giving them jobs, and once the business was successful you could leave and they would be able to carry on, enjoying the benefits of your labors for several years. (I wonder, my dear Brad, if you really believe helping a person achieve economically is going to truly make them better off and bring them happiness in life/) You were going to do in life exactly what you wanted to do you said, and no one was going to persuade you differently. (You have this obsession about your implacable will and being able to accomplish whatever you make up your mind to.) You shrugged. Yes, you supposed it was pride. If going to the celestial kingdom meant you couldn’t do what you wanted to do in life, you guessed you really didn’t want to go. Like you get involved with that girl over a year ago, you did that because you wanted to. You were going to do anything you made up your mind to. Anyway, you were a good member of the church. The reason you didn’t have a job was because you were too transient; you’re here one minute and somewhere else the next. When you go to be a Bishop someday though, you were going to have the best ward in the church. (You made becoming a Bishop should like rising up in the military ranks, and leading a ward sound like running a corporation. I wonder, my dear Brad, how you ever expect to be called to such a position with your present attitude, closed-minded arrogance, and unwillingness to change or follow anybody? Well, it was getting late, you said. You were very tired and you thought it was time to go.
While you were talking I had been rooted in my chair, my eyes fixed on you in a kind of fascinated trance. Your image and the colors had gradually faded away until I sat looking at the pale form with small dark holes for eyes and a black rag for hair. The form had seemed a little transparent and it was as thought I weren’t seeing you there at all. It was as if I were looking at your spirit. It was a strange sensation and I had to repress a shiver. The weird feeling stayed with me even as I stood and looked at the door that shut behind you for a long time. Finally I shook my head and said over and over, “he’s crazy, he’s really crazy.”
Your words and the feeling I had listening to you speak have haunted me ever since. I don’t know why, but that experience was like suddenly coming upon your garden and discovering the once green and tender life choked and dying, strangled by weeds.
My dear,
I have been very concerned lately about the complete change that has come over you in the last few months. Indeed, I think a better word to describe how I have been feeling is disturbed, so much so, that I have not been able to eat, sleep, do schoolwork, or anything of the last three weeks. I have been a very sensitive, deeply spiritual and emotional young man whom I loved very much and who was striving very hard to live as his Father in Heaven would have him, seem to become absolutely unreasonable, hard and very proud, oblivious to any point of view other than his own selfish ambitions.
I remember the first time I met you. It was at a Regional Young Adult activity last July. You were squatting on the ground during the lunch box auction by your friend Jack and you both glanced over at me. Your friendly, easy-going smile and twinkling blue eyes deeply impressed me. It seemed forever until we finally got around to introducing our selves before the evening was over. I asked you what your plans for the future were and you replied, to be a good member of the church. I started to explain what I had meant by the question when it occurred to me what could be more important than your answer? The rest of the evening passed too quickly. It seemed there wasn’t anything we didn’t have in common, even in the books we were reading. I was touched by your patriotism, love of freedom and keen interest in American’s history and destiny; your tremendous desire to serve the Lord in whatever capacity He called you, especially in working with others to spread the gospel like you had done on your mission; your desire to someday have a family and your eagerness to teach them the gospel; your sensitivity towards and enjoyment of beautiful literature (particularly Shakespeare) and nature. I remember you said there had hardly been a better feeling in your short life as that produced by the opportunity you'’ had to make a meal from the food grown in your own garden. Something about being close to the earth brought you nearer to God and other people. You offered to take me home and as I ran outside to tell my girlfriend I had another ride, I jumped up and down and shouted, “ I found him, I found him! He’s the one!”
We spent as much time as possible together before I had to leave for college. We went to the Los Angeles temple Visitor’s Center with a girlfriend of mine who was investigating the church, and you bought her a copy of A Marvelous Work and A Wonder by Le Grand Richards. You came over for Family Home Evening, gave the lesson, and brought me a beautiful bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums. We went to see “Romeo and Juliet” and the beauty of the deep passion and powerful words so moved you, you wept probably the only man in the whole theatre who did, and were unashamed.
You proudly showed me your garden. The tender tops of radishes and carrots were sprouting up in green profusion. There were a few weeds that needed to be pulled you said, but it was coming along pretty well. I remember how you wanted to be completely honest with me and so told me about a rather serious mistake you made over a year ago with a girl you had been going with. It was hard for you to talk and I watched a tear roll down your cheek. I loved you and forgave you with all my heart. We prayed together, usually going into my father’s study after a date and kneeling by the couch holding hands. I had never felt such intense joy or sweet peace as I did being with you, especially in these precious unforgettable moments. We read each other’s patriarchal blessings and thrilled to see how similar both of them were. We shared our inner space and shyly told the other of our love and special feelings of rightness bout the other. We wanted so much for our relationship to be an uplifting, exalting one, and we vowed to be very careful about the way we acted around each other.
While I was away at school we were both going to pray and read the scriptures daily, and you would go to the temple as much as possible. You came all the way up to see me at school for a few days and stayed a whole week. Remember when we drove up through Provo Canyon to have a picnic? That was the happiest time of my entire life. The hills were beginning to blush and turn a burnished gold; everything was radiant because we were. We held hands and dreamed of our future together. You said you loved me and of all things you wanted most in life, I was at the tope. I believed you, trusted you, and loved you with all my heart.
A month passed anxiously, and I didn’t hear from you. Then came a very short, one side of the page letter. You had been too busy with your paint business to think about writing at all. You hadn’t gone anywhere with anyone but your sister since you last saw me. I was a good girl and had helped you out a lot by just being around you, but I was up in Utah among all the good Mormons and going my way while you were working at home among the Gentiles and going your way. You signed it, “Work hard, Brad.” I didn’t understand I was confused and hurt. The next two weeks were hell until I finally was able to go home and confront you.
I was surprised that you didn’t seem to mind coming by the house and talking. You followed me into the study and I shut the door. At my request, we kneeled in prayer by the couch and you gave it. This time we did not hold hands and the space between us was awkward. Your words were sweet, but they washed over me; there was no spirit carried with them to touch my heart. It was like watching a man get up to speak, seeing his mouth move, and hearing no words, or consuming a luscious banquet and walking away still hungry.
You sat in the Rocking Chair
You sat in the rocking chair, leaned you head against the wooden back, and watched me coolly beneath your eyelashes, while I squirmed uncomfortably on the edge of a padded chair across from you. We looked at each other a minute, embarrassed, not knowing what to say. I plunged in and began, then periodically asked questions and commented while you did most of the talking. I stared at you, blinking, with my eyebrows knit together. You were pleasant to watch as you spoke freely and unconcerned in a calm, matter of fact way, but your words shocked me and your manner, attitude, and spirit disturbed me considerably. Was this the same man that had so captivated my heart a little while ago?
You woke up one day you said, and discovered you didn’t feel the same about me any more. Yes, you agreed that meant you must not have ever really loved or wanted me. You admitted you were afraid of man-woman relationship. You were afraid of being hurt, blowing it, or being stuck with the wrong girl. No, you were not going to do anything about trying to make sure you wouldn’t blow it. Women were silly and you had nothing in common with them. They should all be married and have children, you said. But as for you: you wanted no part of them or marriage. You had made up your mind when you were very little that you did not want any affection from anybody. (I heard you speak earlier of a certain religion teacher on campus that had been your mission president and you gave your opinion that he was effeminate. I wonder, my dear Brad, what your idea of a man is?) You would not date, and didn’t like having your emotions dependent on another individual. You wanted to be your own man, master of your own destiny. Maybe if everyone rode your back hard enough and since you can’t get anywhere in this church or the celestial kingdom without a wife you might go out and grab someone when you reached about thirty or so. Yes, you felt sorry for whomever you grabbed, but that’s just tough. Life is too exciting and you have too much you want to do. You really wouldn’t mind being a hermit except that you would miss people and you needed them, they made you happy. Anyway, all you cared about right now was getting this business venture of yours successful. No you weren’t doing it for money. You still slept on the floor and ate only one meal a day. You had moved out of the house into an apartment with a friend and while did not mention it. I knew that your garden lay neglected at home, the weeds choking and strangling what little life was left. You just wanted to help other men by giving them jobs, and once the business was successful you could leave and they would be able to carry on, enjoying the benefits of your labors for several years. (I wonder, my dear Brad, if you really believe helping a person achieve economically is going to truly make them better off and bring them happiness in life/) You were going to do in life exactly what you wanted to do you said, and no one was going to persuade you differently. (You have this obsession about your implacable will and being able to accomplish whatever you make up your mind to.) You shrugged. Yes, you supposed it was pride. If going to the celestial kingdom meant you couldn’t do what you wanted to do in life, you guessed you really didn’t want to go. Like you get involved with that girl over a year ago, you did that because you wanted to. You were going to do anything you made up your mind to. Anyway, you were a good member of the church. The reason you didn’t have a job was because you were too transient; you’re here one minute and somewhere else the next. When you go to be a Bishop someday though, you were going to have the best ward in the church. (You made becoming a Bishop should like rising up in the military ranks, and leading a ward sound like running a corporation. I wonder, my dear Brad, how you ever expect to be called to such a position with your present attitude, closed-minded arrogance, and unwillingness to change or follow anybody? Well, it was getting late, you said. You were very tired and you thought it was time to go.
While you were talking I had been rooted in my chair, my eyes fixed on you in a kind of fascinated trance. Your image and the colors had gradually faded away until I sat looking at the pale form with small dark holes for eyes and a black rag for hair. The form had seemed a little transparent and it was as thought I weren’t seeing you there at all. It was as if I were looking at your spirit. It was a strange sensation and I had to repress a shiver. The weird feeling stayed with me even as I stood and looked at the door that shut behind you for a long time. Finally I shook my head and said over and over, “he’s crazy, he’s really crazy.”
Your words and the feeling I had listening to you speak have haunted me ever since. I don’t know why, but that experience was like suddenly coming upon your garden and discovering the once green and tender life choked and dying, strangled by weeds.
1973,
18 years old
To My
Future Children,
This is a journal in which I would like to say some things unto my children and posterity—things which are sacred and personal to me, that I hope will have great value in their lives and help them return to their Father in Heaven’s presence. I am 18 1/2 years old. I am a freshman at BYU, 1973 (Fall). The most important thing that I would have you learn in this life time, my dear children, is to love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, might mind and strength. All other things in this life are an appendage to this. This is the First and greatest commandment. Only those who truly love the Lord more than anything else can become like him and return into his presence. Joseph Smith said that any religion that does not require everything of a man cannot save a man. If we are too selfish and shortsighted, if we cannot or will not be willing to sacrifice all that we have for the Lord…how can we expect to become Gods? If we can not do even as Abraham of old, did, willing to sacrifice his only son.... how could we sacrifice our son to atone for other worlds as Elohim did Jehovah? Our greatest happiness, both in this life and the next, depends on our ability to live this law. If we do not love the Lord with all our hearts, we can’t truly love anything else. We cannot love ourselves or fully realize our potential as his children. We cannot love others as much, because we won’t fully comprehend their divinity or godly heritage. If our love for our Father in Heaven is limited, our love for others will be limited. Anything that is good comes from God. Love is a gift of God. The closer you come to him, the greater your capacity and ability your worthiness to love.
This is a journal in which I would like to say some things unto my children and posterity—things which are sacred and personal to me, that I hope will have great value in their lives and help them return to their Father in Heaven’s presence. I am 18 1/2 years old. I am a freshman at BYU, 1973 (Fall). The most important thing that I would have you learn in this life time, my dear children, is to love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, might mind and strength. All other things in this life are an appendage to this. This is the First and greatest commandment. Only those who truly love the Lord more than anything else can become like him and return into his presence. Joseph Smith said that any religion that does not require everything of a man cannot save a man. If we are too selfish and shortsighted, if we cannot or will not be willing to sacrifice all that we have for the Lord…how can we expect to become Gods? If we can not do even as Abraham of old, did, willing to sacrifice his only son.... how could we sacrifice our son to atone for other worlds as Elohim did Jehovah? Our greatest happiness, both in this life and the next, depends on our ability to live this law. If we do not love the Lord with all our hearts, we can’t truly love anything else. We cannot love ourselves or fully realize our potential as his children. We cannot love others as much, because we won’t fully comprehend their divinity or godly heritage. If our love for our Father in Heaven is limited, our love for others will be limited. Anything that is good comes from God. Love is a gift of God. The closer you come to him, the greater your capacity and ability your worthiness to love.
1973
January 22, 18 years old
Government
class, HS
I have
enjoyed this class more than any other class I have had in high school. I
think I've enjoyed it because it gave me room to grow. I received as much
as I gave. It offered me a chance to evaluate myself and head in the direction
I want to go. It help me to understand myself - both as I see myself and
as others see me - and though understanding myself I began to understand and
appreciate others. I feel very close to everyone in the class - almost like we
were one big family. They say love is what you've been
through together. As we discussed various issues and searched within
ourselves to express honestly our thoughts and deep emotions I feel as thought
we've been through a lot. In studying other people and discussing world
ideas I learned about my own insignificant importance.
1973
June, 18 years old
A
Dream,
When I
was a little girl I used to dream about being a queen someday of being one of
the brightest most beautiful stars in the Heavens and of having for my husband
someone as great and wonderful as Heavenly Father. I never dreamt that it was
possible until I learned more about the gospel and found out that it was.
I am trying to do everything I can to make it possible. I am not going to
do anything that will not make it possible.
I am going to wait for that young man whom the Lord has selected for me and with him I am going to be married in the temple so that we might attain eternal exaltation with each other and every loved one and create worlds for our posterity in the hereafter. I can think of no reason that would exclude me from receiving these rights and blessings as a daughter of God. And I can't think of a reason to exclude each one of you from attaining those privileges.
I know that Joseph Smith is a prophet of God and that this church is true. I know that my Dad, President Smith and President Miner are inspired servants of God. I know because the Spirit has born witness to the truth of it to me. And I know that it will do the same to you if you will but pray and ask it. I have a testimony of the church and its programs. I know that Seminary program is inspired. I'm grateful to it for what it has taught me, for helping me increase my testimony and for the close association it has brought me with other of my Father in Heavenly children. I say these things in the Name of Jesus Christ Amen
1973 (Written
in 1985) 18 years old
Chris
I have a
good friend. named Sue, who when she was a senior and Laurel in High School
looked forward to the return of a special young man from his mission. She had
written to him for nearly two years, and when she became discouraged with the
"slim pickings' in the dating scene, she kept reminding herself about
Terry, her missionary, whom she had put on a pedestal of ideal manhood.
A few
months before Terry came home from his mission, Sue went to a regional youth
dance and met Chris, a fine non-LDS young man who had come with his best friend
who was a return missionary. Sue was immediately drawn to him, his athletic
good looks, wholesome manner, and sensitive, thoughtful actions. She invited
him to attend church with her and have dinner with her family. They soon began
to see a great deal of each other. he always treated her with respect and
tenderness, more so in fact than any other boy that she had ever dated. He
never pushed himself on her like some LDS boys that she had dated, but when he
walked her to the door (always before her parents wanted her
in) he would gently squeeze her hand, or lightly kiss her cheek and tell
her how much he appreciated her and enjoyed her company. He
seemed very mature, confident, honest, kind, and had a very charitable attitude
towards others, especially those who needed help. As often as possible
Sue discussed the gospel with Chris, who had begun the
missionary discussions in their home of his return
missionary best friend. Chris had been raised in t he Church of Christ,
believed in God, had very high Christian principles, and was open and receptive
to gospel discussions. Sue took him to the Visitor's Center and he was very
moved by the spirit and message there, and wrote on the guest
register underneath the section for comments--"Absolutely Beautiful!"
Sue found herself caring for him very deeply.
In the
meantime, Terry, her missionary, came home. But instead of being the
"ideal" young man that she had imagined him to be for two years, she
found him to be unpredictable and emotionally unbalanced as he went
through a severe personality adjustment after his mission. He either went for
weeks without calling her or seeing her, or else he followed her around like a
puppy and played practical jokes on her. She was quickly becoming disgusted
with him, and more and more in love with Chris.
In the meantime Chris, who showed that he really cared for Sue and was sweetly attentive to her, was less and less inclined to discuss the gospel and began changing the subject when she brought up the church. His return missionary friend told Sue that Chris began missing his missionary discussions, was not following through on his Book of Mormon reading assignments, and did not seem to be praying about the gospel even though he would commit to do so with the missionaries. In fact, Chris seemed to be taking the church very lightly now. To make matters worse , Sue's parents, who had always been uneasy about her dating Chris, began pressuring her to quit seeing him unless he showed greater interest in the church and set a date for baptism. In an effort to encourage Chris, Sue began to seriously study and read through the Book of Mormon for the first time in her life. She read every church pamphlet she could get her hands on, several church books, and began earnestly praying about the prophetic calling of Joseph Smith and the divinity of the Book of Mormon. She wept when she read of Jesus blessing the little children and how they were encircled by fire, ministered to by angels, and prophesied to their astonished parents in 3 Nephi. She remembers vividly when the Spirit bore witness to her-- as clearly as the Sun's rays break trough dark storm clouds--that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. She knew it because she knew that his revealed knowledge that God was an exalted man and our literal Father in Heaven was true. It was natural to believe this because she had a great priesthood leader for her father. And she was concerned because her patriarchal blessing warned her not to be satisfied with a man who did not hold the priesthood.
In
desperation she made an appointment with the president of the visitor's Center
at the Los Angeles Temple. He was a great speaker and had brought many young
people into the church. For three hours the visitor's Center president
discussed the gospel, and Sue bore her testimony, but Chris was quiet and
unresponsive. On the way home she asked him if he would fast and pray with her
for three days while studying the Book of Mormon; reluctantly Chris agreed.
During
this time, Sue really prayed that the Lord would bear witness to Chris Of the
truthfulness of the gospel, telling Heavenly Father what a fine young man she
knew Chris to be. The evening of the third day, Chris picked
her up and took her out to dinner. At first he was very quiet, then he began to
talk about Mother Teresa, and all the other great and good people
in the world who were not members of the church. When questioned about whether
be had prayed and read the Book of Mormon during the last few days he said no, that
he hadn't.
He could
not accept our claim to be the Lord's only true church when there
were so many good Christian people who – were not members of it. He said that
he loved Sue and accept3ed her and respected her belief, why couldn’t she do
the same for him? How we expect courtesy and respect from others that we won’t
afford them?
With
sickness of heart, Sue realized that Chris was not going to seriously
investigate the gospel, that he had turned his heart against it. On the way
home, she related some of the marvelous Book of Mormon stories and teachings
that she had discovered in her reading, in hopes that it would encourage him to
eventually study it himself. When she got home, she went up to sit on her
parents bed where her father was reading the scriptures, and began to cry on
his shoulder. He told her that perhaps at this time, Chris was not one of the
Lord's sheep, since he was not responding to the Lord's voice. Sue could not go
to sleep that night until she found this scripture in 2 Nephi 27:35--"They
also that erred in spirit shall come to understanding and they that murmured
shall learn doctrine' --and she felt comforted with the feeling that eventually
Chris would accept the gospel. Over the next few weeks, when Chris called she
told him that she was not available to see him, and soon he stopped trying.
She
determined to take an institute class over the Summer so that she could
learn more about the gospel and meet more LDS youth. Six months later she called
Chris up to come get some records that he had left there, and to make sure that
there were no hard feelings. He said that he
understood, that his return missionary friend had explained to him that she had
a commitment to marry in the temple. Sue told him that he was the
nicest young man that she had ever known, and she sadly watched him drive off.
One year
later she sat next to her future husband in Church Education Week during the
Summer, and they were married in the Los Angeles temple 5 months
and 4 days later. Today they are the parents of 4
beautiful children, and are very active in the church.
1973,
June, 18 years old
Suzanne’s
HS Graduation Speech
One day a
youth came to the great teacher Socrates and daring him,
said,
"Teach me." That wise old sage looked calmly into the eyes of the
defiant and impatient young man, and saying not a word, but taking him by the
hand, he led him towards the sea. Farther and farther into the roaring surf the
teacher led his unwilling pupil. Confused, the youth tried to pull away as the
water rose up about his shoulders. Relentlessly Socrates moved out, and then,
turning to his pupil, he grabbed his herd and held it under. The youth thrashed
wid1y about, but still the teacher kept him under until his struggling nearly ceased.
quickly he brought him to the surface, and asked the gasping youth, "What
did you want more than anything else?" "Air!" the young man
shouted, exasperated. "When you want to learn as much as you wanted air,
that is when you'll have no need of me!
Over
three and a half years ago, we, the class of '73, came to this school like the
youth, with hands outstretched, defiant, impatient, and daring to be taught.
Calmly, patiently., and perhaps at times impatiently, our teachers, counselors
and administrators, families, and friends have led us to a great ocean of
knowledge and opportunity. We received in direct proportion to what we gave.
Today we walk away accountable only to ourselves for what we take with us.
We are on
the threshold of life, the crossroads of the future. Now is the time when we
will be making so many vital decisions that will effect our eternity. We have
exalted notions, feelings, and ideas. We're un-humbled by time, nor yet have
learned many of life's limitations.
Each of
us marching to the tune of whatever drummer we hear, has already mapped a blue
print of his life. . By the series of decisions and influences,
which have led us up to this point in our lives, most of us here have already
determined which direction we’ll take. It is up to us with the help
that you have given us to begin now constructing foundations under our castles
in the sky.
When
choosing the material to build our dreams, let us look to past generations and
choose that which is noble and has withstood the test of time. Let us also
learn from their mistakes so that future generations can look to ours when
constructing their own ideals. Among the building materials let us choose
personal integrity, empathy, faith and humility, wisdom and understanding,
knowledge, gratitude, and a conscience void of offense towards God and all men.
Aim for
the stars, my fellow classmates for he who aims beneath them, aims too
low. Never fear of shooting higher than you can
reach. Remember, an arrow aimed at the sun shall always fly higher
than one aimed at an object on the same level with yourselves.
“He aims
too low who aims beneath the starts.” Quote on Congress building
1969 -
1973
High
School Reflections, 14-18 years old
It was confusing to me growing in High School how different my values and beliefs were form those around me. I was even more confusing to realize that others were just as fervent in their contrary beliefs as I was in mine. I found myself continually challenged in doctrine and standards of the church my friends, school mates and teachers and I didn't know what to say or what the answers were. On more than one occasion I found myself in a situation where some associates knew and challenged me on the scriptures and I was completely speechless. I didn't even know the scriptures let alone what they meant. I poured my heart out to the Lord. At first I cried for my friends and besieged the Lord's help and justice for them. But then as I realized that my values led me to like and associate with persons who held no regard for either the laws of God or the Lord I began to wail more for my self than my friends. I realized that my values and standards needed changing if I didn't want to go the same direction as they did.
Suddenly I stopped screaming and beating on the tree and I felt filled with a sweet delicious peace and I could imagine. Then I heard him saying to me "my dear child, have I not been with you in the past? Will I not be with you now and forever more? As I have gone to my Father in Heaven in prayer many times in my life I have felt that same calm reassurance and closeness to him. Prayer helps build a personal relationship with the savior.
When I was a MIA Maid Class president I went to visit and help an inactive girl who had just moved into the ward. The next year she replaced me as mutual class president. Because of that one act on my part her whole family became reactivated and were sealed together in the temple shortly before her mother died; her youngest brother and brother in law were baptized; her nephew is planning to be baptized when he is 8 and her brother is planning to go on a mission. When I try to live the gospel and act the way the Savior does, I feel a love and closeness to him that can b e experienced in no other way.
As we study, ponder, pray and live the gospel, we will developed a personal relationship with the savior and discover "that something within ourselves (the knowledge of our divine souls will help us to have the internal strength to rise above the masses and temptations around us. External factors life fashions, what other people think the "in thing to do" will be meaningless to us because we know who we are, what we may become. The possession of that something is the difference.
When I first entered High School mini skirts were at a peak in popularity., My good mother tried very hard to keep my skirts long and modest while I shrugged to compromise church standards with those of my friends and the world. It was a real battle every time we went shopping. I wasn't trying to rebel against my parents or leaders or the church. I just wanted to be accepted by my schoolmates. It was bad enough being the Stake President's daughter let alone having to wear my skirts down to the middle of my knee!. Deep inside I really wanted to do the right things, to have the courage to live the gospel standards and not care what others thought. But I didn't have the courage to be different than my other girl friends. The ridicule would be more than I could bear. So, secretly at night I taped or sewed up the hem's of my dresses or rolled my skirts up as soon as I got to seminary.
1973,
It was confusing to me growing in High School how different my values and beliefs were form those around me. I was even more confusing to realize that others were just as fervent in their contrary beliefs as I was in mine. I found myself continually challenged in doctrine and standards of the church my friends, school mates and teachers and I didn't know what to say or what the answers were. On more than one occasion I found myself in a situation where some associates knew and challenged me on the scriptures and I was completely speechless. I didn't even know the scriptures let alone what they meant. I poured my heart out to the Lord. At first I cried for my friends and besieged the Lord's help and justice for them. But then as I realized that my values led me to like and associate with persons who held no regard for either the laws of God or the Lord I began to wail more for my self than my friends. I realized that my values and standards needed changing if I didn't want to go the same direction as they did.
Suddenly I stopped screaming and beating on the tree and I felt filled with a sweet delicious peace and I could imagine. Then I heard him saying to me "my dear child, have I not been with you in the past? Will I not be with you now and forever more? As I have gone to my Father in Heaven in prayer many times in my life I have felt that same calm reassurance and closeness to him. Prayer helps build a personal relationship with the savior.
When I was a MIA Maid Class president I went to visit and help an inactive girl who had just moved into the ward. The next year she replaced me as mutual class president. Because of that one act on my part her whole family became reactivated and were sealed together in the temple shortly before her mother died; her youngest brother and brother in law were baptized; her nephew is planning to be baptized when he is 8 and her brother is planning to go on a mission. When I try to live the gospel and act the way the Savior does, I feel a love and closeness to him that can b e experienced in no other way.
As we study, ponder, pray and live the gospel, we will developed a personal relationship with the savior and discover "that something within ourselves (the knowledge of our divine souls will help us to have the internal strength to rise above the masses and temptations around us. External factors life fashions, what other people think the "in thing to do" will be meaningless to us because we know who we are, what we may become. The possession of that something is the difference.
When I first entered High School mini skirts were at a peak in popularity., My good mother tried very hard to keep my skirts long and modest while I shrugged to compromise church standards with those of my friends and the world. It was a real battle every time we went shopping. I wasn't trying to rebel against my parents or leaders or the church. I just wanted to be accepted by my schoolmates. It was bad enough being the Stake President's daughter let alone having to wear my skirts down to the middle of my knee!. Deep inside I really wanted to do the right things, to have the courage to live the gospel standards and not care what others thought. But I didn't have the courage to be different than my other girl friends. The ridicule would be more than I could bear. So, secretly at night I taped or sewed up the hem's of my dresses or rolled my skirts up as soon as I got to seminary.
1973,
Orchids, 18 years old
Brother Crook knows that if he properly cares for his orchids he can expect a beautiful crop when the orchids bloom. Just as their are natural laws of growth for plants and animals so there are certain divine laws which will help us to discover that something within each of us. The Savior was the living embodiment of those laws and principals. He fulfilled the law and as many as come unto him will reach fulfillment.
And as many as have received me, to them have I given to become the sons of God even so will I to as many as believe on my name, for behold by me redemption cometh and in me is the law...fulfilled" 3 Nephi 9:17. He said for this is life eternal that they many know the, the only true God and Jesus Christ whom thou has send John 17.
1973
Brother Crook knows that if he properly cares for his orchids he can expect a beautiful crop when the orchids bloom. Just as their are natural laws of growth for plants and animals so there are certain divine laws which will help us to discover that something within each of us. The Savior was the living embodiment of those laws and principals. He fulfilled the law and as many as come unto him will reach fulfillment.
And as many as have received me, to them have I given to become the sons of God even so will I to as many as believe on my name, for behold by me redemption cometh and in me is the law...fulfilled" 3 Nephi 9:17. He said for this is life eternal that they many know the, the only true God and Jesus Christ whom thou has send John 17.
1973
Secret
Hideout - English 111, November 12, 18 years old
Even before all the boxes were unpacked, my three brothers, two sisters, and I scampered over our newly acquired property to discover all its secrets and the special magic of the outdoors that appeals so strongly to children. We raced around a horse trail that would unevenly down the terraces of our hill and stopped abruptly about a hundred yards from the house. In front of curling and us several hundred feel to the left was a small isolated grove of giant old avocado trees handing over a small canyon. So completely did their leafy branches demurely veil the gnarled, rheumatic trunks, that the cluster looked absolutely impenetrable? It was like a silent green mound breathing over so softly in the gentle breeze. It was a child'’ delight-— secret hideout where many fond memories would develop; and when I returned with a friend nearly a decade later after it had been damaged by fire, the grove would hold the same magical appeal that had firs captivated me.
We pulled the green skirts carefully aside and walked into a dark and awesome cathedral. A rich brown carpet of most leaves cushioned our steps. Like stained glass windows, the translucent leaves shimmered in the warm sunlight and let the sun’s rays fall benevolently on the trunks. The trees were growing along two steep terraces, one ten feet above the other, in parallel rows. Grown accustomed to each other’s presence with the passage of years, their branches intertwined and threw their leafy veils over each other like old women sharing a blanket. The patriarchs were bowed and twisted grotesquely with age. We gasped in awe and stood reverently for a moment savoring its beauty, but only for a moment. With a whoop of delight we bounded for the nearest trees and into their branches like so many monkeys. “Ooh, look at this one! This is my tree,” we called to each other; the grove echoed with our laughter and happy chattering. The trees smiled kindly and stretched heir arms to receive and lift us into their lofty heights.
I went there often: to play games after school with friends and playmates; to escape weekend chores early Saturday mornings: to nurse hurt feelings and wounded pride; or just to dream alone in the green fantasy world. It was my secret hideout where cares and troubles dropped away like leaves from a tree in autumn. One day a girlfriend and I played hooky and sought refuge under the protective covering of my obliging grove. We spent the afternoon confiding secrets; with out legs curled around a sturdy limb, basking in the warm sunlight that filtered through the camouflaged sky. I frequently rendezvoused with my brothers and sisters and we’d share boxes of Jell-O, make up stories, build tree houses, or play cowboys and Indians with the neighbor children. It always seemed to me as if the trees shivered with anticipation for my arrival, welcomed me joyfully, laughed and chuckled with me freely, dreamed with me and whispered secrets into my ears, sympathized and rustled their leaves compassionately to my frustrations, mourned and stretched their arms out after me when I left.
Then tragedy struck: a fire started in the canyon. It raged its dreadful path along the course of the ravine and licked its fiery breath about my secret hideout, damaging and mutilating several of the trees. A few days later with my brothers and sisters, I came down anxiously to investigate and survey the awful scene of destruction. A sickening stench assailed my nostril, a thick bitter odor of burnt matter and death hung in the air. The earth was blackened and smoldered angrily. Scattered here and there were little piles of charred bones from small rodents unable to escape the fire’s passion. Trees and bushes surrounding the ravine slumped in the heavy air like dangling skeletons. Miraculously our hideout and escaped most of the ravages of fire but the wounded branches and tendrils writhed and twisted in anguish. Pained and hurt, some of the trees seemed bare and sterile—the breath of life almost choked out of them. Others hung limply and seemed to seep quietly. The general shape of the great oval mound would still be there, but with a few gaps along the side of the ravine, where death had taken its toll among the ancient patriarchs. We were forbidden to play there for two years until the trees had a chance to heal. Sadly, we turned our backs on our friend and soon forgot them.
“So you want to climb trees?” I turned and smiled into the eyes of the young man beside me. “Let’s see, where can I take you…. It’s been so long since I’ve climbed any.” I was thoughtful for a moment, then looked up sharply as a light flashed across my mind. “I know!” I grabbed his hand and bounded along the familiar trail, now neglected and overgrown, toward the canyon. We hesitated when we came to the waiting grove. The fresh new branches of the mended trees had closed over the former entrance. I turned to the left, followed the giant green mound a few feet, and stopped again in front of a low arch. Reaching into the mumble of tendrils and grabbing a sturdy vine, I swung into the cool interior and sketched a hand to my friend. The leaves rustled gently, awakening to recognition. The gnarled old patriarchs lifted their heads jubilantly at the sound of my voice and quivered expectantly. I quietly surveyed the grove and caught my breath. Ten years had elapsed since I had last played among its trees and it hadn’t changed or aged a bit. I felt the same tingle of excitement and reverence flush through me as I did when I first discovered it with my brothers and sisters. Yes, there was my tree, and here was Jim’s and over there to my right was Janna’s.
My young man gave me a boost up into the nearest tree. I swung a leg over a limb, hoisted myself onto it, and watched my friend crawl up beside me. We grinned at each other and I leaned back against a branch and sighed. This same girl sitting beside this young man, I thought to myself, over a decade ago sat on this same limb leaned against this same branch and poured a box of strawberry Jell-O down her throat. Memories flickered before me and the years slipped quietly away unnoticed. I was no longer a young lady courting her beau; I was a little girl with her playmate, returning to play another day.
Even before all the boxes were unpacked, my three brothers, two sisters, and I scampered over our newly acquired property to discover all its secrets and the special magic of the outdoors that appeals so strongly to children. We raced around a horse trail that would unevenly down the terraces of our hill and stopped abruptly about a hundred yards from the house. In front of curling and us several hundred feel to the left was a small isolated grove of giant old avocado trees handing over a small canyon. So completely did their leafy branches demurely veil the gnarled, rheumatic trunks, that the cluster looked absolutely impenetrable? It was like a silent green mound breathing over so softly in the gentle breeze. It was a child'’ delight-— secret hideout where many fond memories would develop; and when I returned with a friend nearly a decade later after it had been damaged by fire, the grove would hold the same magical appeal that had firs captivated me.
We pulled the green skirts carefully aside and walked into a dark and awesome cathedral. A rich brown carpet of most leaves cushioned our steps. Like stained glass windows, the translucent leaves shimmered in the warm sunlight and let the sun’s rays fall benevolently on the trunks. The trees were growing along two steep terraces, one ten feet above the other, in parallel rows. Grown accustomed to each other’s presence with the passage of years, their branches intertwined and threw their leafy veils over each other like old women sharing a blanket. The patriarchs were bowed and twisted grotesquely with age. We gasped in awe and stood reverently for a moment savoring its beauty, but only for a moment. With a whoop of delight we bounded for the nearest trees and into their branches like so many monkeys. “Ooh, look at this one! This is my tree,” we called to each other; the grove echoed with our laughter and happy chattering. The trees smiled kindly and stretched heir arms to receive and lift us into their lofty heights.
I went there often: to play games after school with friends and playmates; to escape weekend chores early Saturday mornings: to nurse hurt feelings and wounded pride; or just to dream alone in the green fantasy world. It was my secret hideout where cares and troubles dropped away like leaves from a tree in autumn. One day a girlfriend and I played hooky and sought refuge under the protective covering of my obliging grove. We spent the afternoon confiding secrets; with out legs curled around a sturdy limb, basking in the warm sunlight that filtered through the camouflaged sky. I frequently rendezvoused with my brothers and sisters and we’d share boxes of Jell-O, make up stories, build tree houses, or play cowboys and Indians with the neighbor children. It always seemed to me as if the trees shivered with anticipation for my arrival, welcomed me joyfully, laughed and chuckled with me freely, dreamed with me and whispered secrets into my ears, sympathized and rustled their leaves compassionately to my frustrations, mourned and stretched their arms out after me when I left.
Then tragedy struck: a fire started in the canyon. It raged its dreadful path along the course of the ravine and licked its fiery breath about my secret hideout, damaging and mutilating several of the trees. A few days later with my brothers and sisters, I came down anxiously to investigate and survey the awful scene of destruction. A sickening stench assailed my nostril, a thick bitter odor of burnt matter and death hung in the air. The earth was blackened and smoldered angrily. Scattered here and there were little piles of charred bones from small rodents unable to escape the fire’s passion. Trees and bushes surrounding the ravine slumped in the heavy air like dangling skeletons. Miraculously our hideout and escaped most of the ravages of fire but the wounded branches and tendrils writhed and twisted in anguish. Pained and hurt, some of the trees seemed bare and sterile—the breath of life almost choked out of them. Others hung limply and seemed to seep quietly. The general shape of the great oval mound would still be there, but with a few gaps along the side of the ravine, where death had taken its toll among the ancient patriarchs. We were forbidden to play there for two years until the trees had a chance to heal. Sadly, we turned our backs on our friend and soon forgot them.
“So you want to climb trees?” I turned and smiled into the eyes of the young man beside me. “Let’s see, where can I take you…. It’s been so long since I’ve climbed any.” I was thoughtful for a moment, then looked up sharply as a light flashed across my mind. “I know!” I grabbed his hand and bounded along the familiar trail, now neglected and overgrown, toward the canyon. We hesitated when we came to the waiting grove. The fresh new branches of the mended trees had closed over the former entrance. I turned to the left, followed the giant green mound a few feet, and stopped again in front of a low arch. Reaching into the mumble of tendrils and grabbing a sturdy vine, I swung into the cool interior and sketched a hand to my friend. The leaves rustled gently, awakening to recognition. The gnarled old patriarchs lifted their heads jubilantly at the sound of my voice and quivered expectantly. I quietly surveyed the grove and caught my breath. Ten years had elapsed since I had last played among its trees and it hadn’t changed or aged a bit. I felt the same tingle of excitement and reverence flush through me as I did when I first discovered it with my brothers and sisters. Yes, there was my tree, and here was Jim’s and over there to my right was Janna’s.
My young man gave me a boost up into the nearest tree. I swung a leg over a limb, hoisted myself onto it, and watched my friend crawl up beside me. We grinned at each other and I leaned back against a branch and sighed. This same girl sitting beside this young man, I thought to myself, over a decade ago sat on this same limb leaned against this same branch and poured a box of strawberry Jell-O down her throat. Memories flickered before me and the years slipped quietly away unnoticed. I was no longer a young lady courting her beau; I was a little girl with her playmate, returning to play another day.
1973
Modeling, 18 years old
1973 June I graduate from Los Altos High School and began modeling Wedding gowns.
1973 June I graduate from Los Altos High School and began modeling Wedding gowns.
1973, Feb 23
I also go
to a Laurel conference in Glendora with Melinda Romney and meet a young man in
the hallway who was teaching a Sunday school class. We talk and he offers us a
ride home in his red 1956 Station Wagon. He puts me in the back seat where I
can see the ground through the floorboards of the old red station wagon.
1973 September –
I go to
BYU for my freshman year.
1973 Fall
BYU,
Book of Mormon Class, 18 years old
When I
was a freshman at BUU first semester, I took a first-half Book of Mormon class
clear on the opposite side of campus from where I stayed (Helaman Halls).
The teacher was a graduate student working on his doctorate and aspiring to be
a full time seminary teacher. It seems to me I recall him saying perhaps
I just thought it = that he greatly admired great teachers in the church like
Paul Dunn, or Boyd K. Packer. Yet nearly everyday he came to class without any
prepared lesson and merely discussed our work in the syllabus (workbook) or
gave us end of the unit tests. (also from the syllabus (workbook). I was
terribly bored and felt it was hardly worth the effort to come. I
frequently skipped lunch in order to attend other Book of Mormon classes so
that I might learn more. I had studied the Book of Mormon before (in
Seminary) and on my own read the church Magazines and had taken Education Week
classes on the subjects of the Book of Mormon. I was hungering and
thirsting for more information. One day as we were studying Mosiah 5 especially
verse 10:12) he announced he had some marvelous proof that the Book of Mormon
was true. It could be found in that chapter, particularly those verses
and was an ancient form of poetry. He asked if anyone had ever heard
anything about it? I raised my hand and said "Yes, It's called
chiasmus" and related some things I had learned from an education
week class and I believe an ensign article even had a poem outlined out in my
Book of Mormon. He seemed surprised and greatly disappointed (to me) that
I knew so much about it and was able to tell the class. I wondered if I
said something wrong or should have kept quiet on the subject. The other
students seldom, if ever, spoke in class or asked questions; and I felt
uncomfortable when I did so. One day, as we were discussing a passage in
the Book of Mormon, bits and pieces of information I had read and heard came
clicking together with inspiration and interest. I raised my hand and
expressed my thoughts verbally as they flowed through my mind. I forget
now the passage of scripture and the point I was desiring to make, but I
remember expressing among other things that Jehovah, Jesus, was a God even
before his mortal existence, Michael in the flesh became Adam, and this earth
would be our dwelling place throughout our immortality - or that we would live
on it after our resurrection and its renewal in paradisiacal glory. He
stopped me mid course and said in front of the whole class in essence.
"That is wrong! That is part of the Adam - God theory and it is false
doctrine. Don't any of you believe it! " He then went on to
say he had just been warned to be aware of this on campus and that someone had
gotten a hold of me and messed up my young and impressionable mind with this rubbish.
After going on for what seemed like an eternity on this vein, the class finally
ended.
I was stunned, horrified, shocked, incredulous. My face felt hot, my heart thudded in my ears, my stomach sick, and throat one great lump. Me, Suzanne Brown, stake president's daughter, honor student, seminary class president, Sunday school class president, mutual class president, called "Miss Mormon" by some non-members - publicly denounced for preaching false doctrine?!! I could hardly breathe and my chest hurt. I thought I'd faint. This couldn't be real. It was all a bad dream. I left class not daring to look at or speak to anyone. And no one spoke to me. Everyone shuffled out quietly and the teacher was preoccupied with his own material. I hurried away to my next class and went through the day feeling the whole world of sin and condemnation on my shoulders. I was surrounded by a dark black cloud. Was I indeed wrong? Was I on the left hand of God and opposing the church and it's teachings? I knew little concerning the Adam God theory, yet I felt that I had said nothing amiss. In my heart I knew that what I said was true. Yet this man said it was false doctrine - contrary to church teachings. Was the church untrue, then? No of course it was true. I knew Joseph Smith to be a prophet by divine revelation and I knew the present prophet, Spencer W. Kimball to be called of God. Then who was right and who was wrong? What was I do do? Oh my head ached, and my heart was heavy. I determined to discover what the General authorities had to say on those subjects and to read about the Adam God theory and see if I was expounding and believing it unawares. Surely Joseph Fielding Smith or Bruce R. Mc Conkie had something to say on the subject. I grabbed my Mormon Doctrine and headed for the Library to refer to Doctrine's of Salvation. I knew if Mc Conkie agreed with me I could be be too off base. I determined to discover if I were right or wrong. If I were wrong, I would correct my thinking. If I were right I would go and discuss this with the teacher in his office. I looked up the Adam God theory and couldn't understand it. How ridiculous. Who could possibly believe that to be true. I certainly didn't. Yes Mc Conkie said Adam was Michael and that Jehovah was God. I didn't find anything discussing our existence on this earth in the eternities but I knew I had read or heard it from some source in the church like Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith? I didn't want to take time to look it up. It was 5o'clockish and I wanted to catch my teacher before he went home. I couldn't bear to live through the weekend with this burden. I dashed off to the Joseph Smith building praying fervently that I might catch him before he left. I found him in his basement office and breathing prayers of relief and how supplication to make him understand. I dashed in loaded down the church books and re-explained my statement and pointed to my supports from the various sources. All I remember was him saying "Oh is that what you said? I misunderstood you." After much questioning and reassurances, and an extracted promise from him to apologize in front of the class the first day of the next week - I floated home. Gone was the burden the dark black cloud, the weight on my heart and throbbing in my head. I felt like Easter Sunday after the atonement and Crucifixion. I made sure i was there that first day the following week and felt mollified by his profuse apology. My attendance dropped off after that though. I always felt ill at ease. Did he really believe me? Did the students? What if someone were absent the day he apologize. (Not unlikely - attendance at his class was poor, many dropped out) I winced under all the glances or looks from the other students. I completed my work hover and received an A- grade. The teacher left after that semester to be a full time seminary teacher. I pray he will grow in his ability to obtain and teach knowledge of the gospel, sensitivity to the students, and ability to love and help them with their problems. May God bless him to this end.
This experience had quit a profound and stunning impact on me. I call it "How a teacher should not correct a student with a problem." Suppose I had been wrong - miss informed, misguided, etc? or that I was misunderstood and did not have as sturdy a testimony? I had been 1 Publicity denounced, rebuked and disgraced, and 23) left to my own devices and blunderings - not a kind word or warm hand offered to me as I left the building and class. There is no one to retrieve my soul or understand my ideas. I shudder to think of it. It has taken me some time to say Bro ____I forgive you and may God bless you. I hope as a teacher in the church learn from this experience and 10 talk to an offender in private 20 extend my love and help to the one who has erred.
1973
November 9,
BYU Assignment #3,
18 years old
Dear Brad,
I
experienced my first snowfall!. Oh sure, I've seen snow before. Every few
years my parents would reluctantly succumb to the clamoring of my brothers and
sisters and I to "play in the snow", pack us into the car1 and
cart the family up to Mount Baldy. Usually, by the time we could convince them
to go, it would be so late in the season the snow would obviously be in its
last stages of existence. It had melted and refrozen, melted and refrozen many
different times and had been kicked up and trampled upon by so many
tourists, that when we finally got to "play in it", the
"snow" was kind of a salt-and-pepper slush, ice. As you can
see, my past encounter with snow of any kind has been limited.
The skies
had been dark and rather ominous all day Wednesday. As I hurried from my
English class to the library, a girl walking behind exclaimed, "it's
snowing!" I peered up at the sky expectantly and watched a few white
flecks float gently along, riding a light breeze like autumn leaves sometimes
do. "This is snow?” I thought. I was incredulous. I'm not sure what I was
looking for. Having seen you shudder, turn blue in the face, and cringe every
time you referred to the cold snow and gripping winters here in Provo, I guess
I was expecting a loud thunderous announcement a legion of trumpeters or
the like, heralding its advent. 'The flakes coasted gracefully along
like feathers escaping from a pillow. They reminded me of the fuzzy
down of dandelion seeds after you blow them. Hitchhikers, they attached themselves
to the fur on my coat sleeves and took up their journey with me, bouncing
along to my gait. I shook my arm vigorously and they detach themselves,
once more joining the stream of others drifting by. I stuck out my hand to
catch one, which alighted daintily on my palm and immediately vanished. Some
flakes dropped gracefully onto my plastic notebook and paused a moment for me
to study their lacy geometrical design, then melted into little droplets of
water. The cement became polka dotted with little wet spots, while the flakes,
suspended in their flight, rested gently on the grass and bushes. I chuckled to
myself as the little white specks here and there made me think of dandruff.
The
cascade increased, tumbling down like Styrofoam shavings dropping out of huge
invisible bin slowly overturning. It was powdered sugar falling from a gray
blanket. As it dampened the ground, I could smell the wet earth. I shrank
inside my coat and hurried into the warm library and found a seat in the
lounge by a window. Now the snow looked like flour falling from a sifter when
you turn the handle as fast as you can. It sprinkled everything, and the fading
trees, bushes, grass, and buildings reminded me of ginger snaps dusted with
sugar. Figures hurrying in and out of the white veil became blurred arid
shadowy Colors vanished and vision became two-tone--either white or non-white.
I sat up
straight on the edge of my seat, my eyes popping, and the muscles in my stomach
knotted tightly. I'm sure I must have looked very much like your sister
Kimmie did when you first brought me over to meet the family--her eyes dancing
with interest and her limbs taut with excitement as she
squealed, Is this her?" I clapped my hands and broke the
silence of the library by exclaiming delightedly, "Oh, look at it
snowing!" The bent heads and hunched shoulders around me didn't move. The
girl on my left looked up at me sharply and cocked her head inquisitively,
puzzled expression on her face. I sunk back into the creases of the couch and
bit my lip.
Gradually
the white veil thinned out and lifted so gentle was not aware that it
had been snowing one minute and not the next. I grabbed my books and ran out of
the building into the glistening and white-washed world. The snow spread softly
over everything: on the ground like a plush white carpet, and on the bushes
like cream on breakfast cereal before it slides to the bottom of the bowl. The
snow hung in clumps on the trees, and reminded me of a song I used to sing
in Primary. You may have sung it--"Popcorn popping on the Apricot
Tree". The trees were blossoming little white snow buds.
I raised
my foot and planted it carefully into the flawless gleaming blanket. It sank
quickly. I raised it again and watched the snow gradually fill in the imprint
until the outline was furry and barely perceptible. I reached down to clutch
the cold foam and only clutched wet nothingness. Scooping up a hand full of
foam, I tossed it into the air. The fluff settled softly to the ground. Using
both hands, I gathered another pile and compacted it into a small fist-sized
ball. 1 stretched back my arm and chucked the snowball a few yards in
front of me, several feet short of my mark. It felt like throwing a
Wiffle ball, it was so light, and airy. Scooping up another hand full, I
took a mouthful. It vanished instantly, like cold, wet, tasteless
cotton candy. I pinched and pressed another band full into a
small piece of ice, and I bit off a piece. It tasted like hard rainwater. The
sharp air hurt my lungs as I took a deep breath, twirled around, and stretched
my arms out as far as I could. I felt indescribably delicious on this brilliant
afternoon. (I'm sure someday I may become so familiar with snow that I'll
non-react like the students in the library, or come to dread it like you, but
just for this one ecstatic moment I wanted to savor and enjoy this experience
as much as possible.
1973
October 17,
BYU
English 111, Section 35, 18 years old
The
clearing was deserted and peaceful.
An
orchestra of bird sounds filled the air.
Like old
women chatting, some were whispering, some clucking and exclaiming loudly.
The
coolness of the crisp air licked about my face, hands and knees.
A path on
my right curved away and joined another in front of where I stood.
Shortly
before the marriage of these paths the grass grew green and closely knit.
Elsewhere
it appeared in small tufts, salted with brown, mauve, yellow, gold, crimson and
beige leaves.
Start
murky trunks rose from the gray wet earth.
Some
trees stood as dead lifeless forms their long tendrils stretched-out in anguish
Others
blushed in autumn glory.
A few
smiled, radiantly gold, their rich leaves spilling over the ground like
fountains of molten metal.
Here and
there a green tree trembled, fresh and alive, touched occasionally with clumps
of red leaves like rouge on a young girl's face.
1973,
BYU,
Class, 18 years old
Personal
Observations
Since
beginning this project I've noticed that I am more consciously aware of
understanding, listening and being open with others. I haven't been
completely successful in all endeavors - communication is two ways. - but I
have noted a marked improvement...particularly in relationships with those who
are close to me. By projecting myself into another's shoes I've been able
to control feelings of anger and defensiveness, remain calm and discuss the
situation in a more logical and understand way. As time goes on
I'll improve even more.
There are two incidents (where I feel communication has taken place effectively and successfully that I would like to briefly relate.
Charles is a young man in my Drama Class. He's self-conscious not very popular and was having trouble with his assignments. I sincerely complimented him on an assignment or two, and then offered a few suggestions for improvement that I had found worked for me. He tried them and he did improve gradually and gained more self -confidence. This opened the doors for more communication - we developed a feeling of mutual appreciation. Later when I noticed he was upset about something I asked him how he was. He said "fine." I replied "not really "and he smiled. He began talking about things I listened and since he knew that I was concerned about him (Id shown that in the past) he opened up and told me the things he had on his mind problems at home, with his family health problems, legal problems uncertainty for the future, etc. I was amazed at the big burden this 16-year old boy had to carry...and I could see it made him feel better to be able to share it. I tried offering help - but there really wasn't anything I could do. They were his problems and he'd have to work them out himself. I kept in touch with him, asking how things were and trying to help (he gently refused my offers). I never did physically help, but I did help him meet the problems he was facing by being able to share them with someone who cared. He still has them, but they are resolving themselves. He's facing them and is working out a definite future. At one point he had said no one cared what he did. I strongly contended with him and told him how important he was as a Child of God, as a human being. He looked at me quietly with tears in his eye - it was probably the first time anyone had told him that he mattered. He now wants to make something of himself - learn from the examples and mistakes of others as well as set an example for his younger brother. About two months ago he told me. "You know, you're the only person I have ever really talked to."
Sunday after church I went up to a young man and told him I had enjoyed what he had said in his closing prayer that afternoon. I knew he would appreciate it - he hadn't been a member very long and was a little unsure of himself a times. This established a "working climate" an atmospheres of concern. He offered me a ride home and on the way monotoned he wondered if he could talk to me about a problem he was having. I didn't press the issue but just waited. He began talking about it in a round about way and was having trouble putting his thoughts into words. I wasn't sure if I agreed with some of this thoughts but I suppressed the impulse to correct him or say it for him - instead, I listened and tried to understand what he was saying by asking him questions and showing that I was concerned and was trying to understand. He finally stopped skirting the issue and told me he was having a problem with a girl he was dating. Again I had to choke down all the advice that immediately came to my mouth, and let him, finish asking him how he felt and what he'd done. We talked about how the girl might feel, and I tried putting myself in her place so he maybe could understand how she felt and know more what to do. I talked about similar situations I'd been in, but we both conceded that we were different so naturally we'd respond and feel differently since our frame of references were so different. This was good because we disagreed on a few points but were able to pass over them. By being open and candid, we finally came to the root of the problem - was it his fault? By the relieved attitude he had when he walked me to the door I concluded that I had successfully carried out everything that I learned while studying communication and human relations.
1. Establish a working climate
2.
Listened attentively and with understanding
3. Was
open and candid
4.
Appreciated his individual difference, frame of reference, past experience
5. Put
myself both in his shoes and the girlie's shoes.
Dating and Marriage
1973, First Meeting
Feb 23, 1973 sitting, outside Glendora chapel across from Citrus College. I had just attended a Laurel conference held in (a wonderful war family with 8 children in Glendora. II Ward) attended workshops, a Marvin Payne Concert and a dance Saturday and then a devotional Sunday with President Don Smith of the LA temple visitors Center. Melinda Romney (who was living with my family my last semester in High School) and I were sitting or lying in the hot sun by the parking lot of the chapel waiting for my brother to come pick us up. We kept waiting and waiting and waiting, but no Jim. We had offers for rides but no, I was sure he would come. 2 hours went buy. Still no Jim. By now quite frustrated and anxious, I went in to phone. For some reason Jim could not pick us up. Then for another hour or two I continued calling a non-member guy I had dated but decided I was unwise. And somehow or another Melinda and I had struck u a conversation during our wait with an unusual interesting young man with Sandy hair, blue eyes, and a beige corduroy jacket. He had a 56 Ford, maroon in color.
I remember thinking what a bomb of a car. He had all kinds of boxes or junk in it. When he discovered we were stranded he quite gallantly offered us a ride saying he had to go out that way anyway. He put Melinda in the front seat with him (or else she insisted) and me in the back seat with the sleeping bags, suitcases and all. It seems o me that we took some other girl or girls home too although I can’t be sure. On the way home we talked about various things and he was quite intriguing to me. When he said he had majored in psychology, something clicked inside of me. – I’ve always had a craving for the subject and wanted to major in it myself. I was a little put out at having to sit in the back while my coquettish girlfriend vied for his attention. I did all I could to appeal to his intellectual side in our conversation since my pride will not let me compete with my girlfriend in a flirtatious way. He said he was a schoolteacher, and was 26 years old. At first we were very skeptical. He seemed too young to be that old and already a schoolteacher. I remember wondering if he could have gone on a mission and if not, how come) if he was very active and if so…how come he wasn’t married (26 seemed ancient to my just tuned 18 years) Hacienda heights was quite a bit out of his way, but he couldn’t very well dump us, so he continued onwards. Discovering that he was interested in restoring old MG’s. I offered to show him my dad’s Rolls Royce’s especially the 32 wagon. Kent nearly dropped his teeth and then proceeded to give me a bad time about being “used” to so many nice things. I had never really thought of that before. Would I be dissatisfied starting out struggling on my own with my husband who maybe couldn’t afford as nice things for me? Kent wondered. That gave me some food for thought. I didn’t think so. I showed him the house, the car and gave him some avocados. I think before he left I invited him to come over again and bring his old MG, and we’d give him a ride in the 32. He said he might and left for his Sacrament Meeting.
1973, February 23
1973, First Meeting
Feb 23, 1973 sitting, outside Glendora chapel across from Citrus College. I had just attended a Laurel conference held in (a wonderful war family with 8 children in Glendora. II Ward) attended workshops, a Marvin Payne Concert and a dance Saturday and then a devotional Sunday with President Don Smith of the LA temple visitors Center. Melinda Romney (who was living with my family my last semester in High School) and I were sitting or lying in the hot sun by the parking lot of the chapel waiting for my brother to come pick us up. We kept waiting and waiting and waiting, but no Jim. We had offers for rides but no, I was sure he would come. 2 hours went buy. Still no Jim. By now quite frustrated and anxious, I went in to phone. For some reason Jim could not pick us up. Then for another hour or two I continued calling a non-member guy I had dated but decided I was unwise. And somehow or another Melinda and I had struck u a conversation during our wait with an unusual interesting young man with Sandy hair, blue eyes, and a beige corduroy jacket. He had a 56 Ford, maroon in color.
I remember thinking what a bomb of a car. He had all kinds of boxes or junk in it. When he discovered we were stranded he quite gallantly offered us a ride saying he had to go out that way anyway. He put Melinda in the front seat with him (or else she insisted) and me in the back seat with the sleeping bags, suitcases and all. It seems o me that we took some other girl or girls home too although I can’t be sure. On the way home we talked about various things and he was quite intriguing to me. When he said he had majored in psychology, something clicked inside of me. – I’ve always had a craving for the subject and wanted to major in it myself. I was a little put out at having to sit in the back while my coquettish girlfriend vied for his attention. I did all I could to appeal to his intellectual side in our conversation since my pride will not let me compete with my girlfriend in a flirtatious way. He said he was a schoolteacher, and was 26 years old. At first we were very skeptical. He seemed too young to be that old and already a schoolteacher. I remember wondering if he could have gone on a mission and if not, how come) if he was very active and if so…how come he wasn’t married (26 seemed ancient to my just tuned 18 years) Hacienda heights was quite a bit out of his way, but he couldn’t very well dump us, so he continued onwards. Discovering that he was interested in restoring old MG’s. I offered to show him my dad’s Rolls Royce’s especially the 32 wagon. Kent nearly dropped his teeth and then proceeded to give me a bad time about being “used” to so many nice things. I had never really thought of that before. Would I be dissatisfied starting out struggling on my own with my husband who maybe couldn’t afford as nice things for me? Kent wondered. That gave me some food for thought. I didn’t think so. I showed him the house, the car and gave him some avocados. I think before he left I invited him to come over again and bring his old MG, and we’d give him a ride in the 32. He said he might and left for his Sacrament Meeting.
1973, February 23
Old MG
I remember thinking he was a little colorless or monotone in appearance (what with a light jacket, light hair, light complexion – all about the same color – and light blue eyes) But his personality and communicative ability really intrigued me. (I do have to confess however that in 5th grade I put in an order with the Lord for someone with Sandy hair and blue eyes. That was my favorite combination, and all my dream heroes would have passed for Kent’s twin) I wondered to Melinda if he would ever come over (I kinda liked him) She shrugged and said He’s weird and gave a snorting laugh. I shrugged to and said maybe she was right. After all he was too old… I can’t decide now if Melinda said that because she thought he was funny (humorous) or because she was slightly jealous of a slight interest on Kent’s part towards me. There was something about him that was quietly intriguing to me, though I had to admit it.
I wondered if I’d ever go out with him…or if he’d ever come by. I would have liked him to. Over the next year and a half at Regional activities I noticed him out the corner of my eye. He sat back on the outskirts and sort of observed what was going on he seemed to have a cynical aura about him. I could really relate to that deep down inside, and sometimes I felt like going over and standing by him. I enjoyed watching people too. And sometimes I felt quite cynical also. But I was on my “ego trip” sage. Where I was out to get attention from as many different sources as I could. While I could tell Kent was interested and me and I considered bouncing his way and flirting with him. Some thing inside of me said, “no.” I was like a valve turned off and all interest in Kent dried up. I decided maybe he really was a schoolteacher and as old as he said he was. I told myself he was much too old and probably) or at least should be looking for a wife, and I wanted to play around still (feed my ego).
1973, Time passes
1973 Kent drives his newly restored MGBTD around San Gabriel valley and occasionally he considers visiting Suzanne, however he discards the idea when he considers how young she is. He also sees her at a couple of dances but feeling the way he does, doesn’t approach her. She is stunning.
1974 Wednesday July 10, 19 years old
I remember thinking he was a little colorless or monotone in appearance (what with a light jacket, light hair, light complexion – all about the same color – and light blue eyes) But his personality and communicative ability really intrigued me. (I do have to confess however that in 5th grade I put in an order with the Lord for someone with Sandy hair and blue eyes. That was my favorite combination, and all my dream heroes would have passed for Kent’s twin) I wondered to Melinda if he would ever come over (I kinda liked him) She shrugged and said He’s weird and gave a snorting laugh. I shrugged to and said maybe she was right. After all he was too old… I can’t decide now if Melinda said that because she thought he was funny (humorous) or because she was slightly jealous of a slight interest on Kent’s part towards me. There was something about him that was quietly intriguing to me, though I had to admit it.
I wondered if I’d ever go out with him…or if he’d ever come by. I would have liked him to. Over the next year and a half at Regional activities I noticed him out the corner of my eye. He sat back on the outskirts and sort of observed what was going on he seemed to have a cynical aura about him. I could really relate to that deep down inside, and sometimes I felt like going over and standing by him. I enjoyed watching people too. And sometimes I felt quite cynical also. But I was on my “ego trip” sage. Where I was out to get attention from as many different sources as I could. While I could tell Kent was interested and me and I considered bouncing his way and flirting with him. Some thing inside of me said, “no.” I was like a valve turned off and all interest in Kent dried up. I decided maybe he really was a schoolteacher and as old as he said he was. I told myself he was much too old and probably) or at least should be looking for a wife, and I wanted to play around still (feed my ego).
1973, Time passes
1973 Kent drives his newly restored MGBTD around San Gabriel valley and occasionally he considers visiting Suzanne, however he discards the idea when he considers how young she is. He also sees her at a couple of dances but feeling the way he does, doesn’t approach her. She is stunning.
1974 Wednesday July 10, 19 years old
Know
Your Religion
Supposed to go to Grandma’s do dinner with family but changes in plans: grandparents went to Solvang got to go to Education week. Tried all day to get in touch with Buddy Hughes so he could come with me, but couldn’t reach him. I had a lot of things I needed to do that night but wanted to go to Education Week in Laverne stake. Went to Truman Madsen. Saw Kent there. For some reason felt like talking to him (never before was interested.) I enjoyed it. I asked him to walk me out to the car and he asked me out. I was surprised…pleasantly. (If this is the right thing for me to go HF make it possible
July I go to a Know your Religion talk in Claremont to hear Truman Madsen speak on the “Steak and the Sizzle”. He tells us that women like the sizzle or romance and men just want the steak or affection. I am sitting on the front row and spy Kent on the back row and decided to walk back and sit next to him. Afterwards he walks me out to the car, an old Jaguar, and we talk for a long time and eventually he asks me out to a Dodger game. When I get home I realize that it is the same night as a friends wedding reception that I really want to go to. I beg my mother to change the date but she won’t let me.
1974, Friday July 19
Supposed to go to Grandma’s do dinner with family but changes in plans: grandparents went to Solvang got to go to Education week. Tried all day to get in touch with Buddy Hughes so he could come with me, but couldn’t reach him. I had a lot of things I needed to do that night but wanted to go to Education Week in Laverne stake. Went to Truman Madsen. Saw Kent there. For some reason felt like talking to him (never before was interested.) I enjoyed it. I asked him to walk me out to the car and he asked me out. I was surprised…pleasantly. (If this is the right thing for me to go HF make it possible
July I go to a Know your Religion talk in Claremont to hear Truman Madsen speak on the “Steak and the Sizzle”. He tells us that women like the sizzle or romance and men just want the steak or affection. I am sitting on the front row and spy Kent on the back row and decided to walk back and sit next to him. Afterwards he walks me out to the car, an old Jaguar, and we talk for a long time and eventually he asks me out to a Dodger game. When I get home I realize that it is the same night as a friends wedding reception that I really want to go to. I beg my mother to change the date but she won’t let me.
1974, Friday July 19
Dodger
Game
Planning to go to Dodger Game with Kent. Remembered it was Wayne Hedges Wedding Reception. Had been planning to go for a year. I entertained the idea of throwing myself at Kent’s feet and crying out my dilemma. My mother discouraged me. I got ready for game and went, resignedly. Had a simple delightful evening. Was very surprised and glad my mother discouraged me from carrying out my plan. We he said he didn’t believe in using physical forces on children, I hugged him (or rather his arm.) I couldn’t resist. I decided right then this Kent Gardiner was really something worth looking into. He fascinated me (sat on floor)
1974, Tuesday July 23
Planning to go to Dodger Game with Kent. Remembered it was Wayne Hedges Wedding Reception. Had been planning to go for a year. I entertained the idea of throwing myself at Kent’s feet and crying out my dilemma. My mother discouraged me. I got ready for game and went, resignedly. Had a simple delightful evening. Was very surprised and glad my mother discouraged me from carrying out my plan. We he said he didn’t believe in using physical forces on children, I hugged him (or rather his arm.) I couldn’t resist. I decided right then this Kent Gardiner was really something worth looking into. He fascinated me (sat on floor)
1974, Tuesday July 23
Broadway
Plaza
Kent picked me up from work. We went to the top of Broadway Plaza to their cocktail Lounge that revolves around: Angel Flight. We had orange juice. Then we had dinner at Marie Calendar pies. His interest in communication fascinates me. He kept teasing me and putting me on the spot so I confronted him. II told him how Bishop Cluff had a crush on his third grade teacher and so threw a rock at her. I asked him if he was throwing rocks at me. He admitted he was (I think he has a crush on me)
1974, Saturday July 2
Kent picked me up from work. We went to the top of Broadway Plaza to their cocktail Lounge that revolves around: Angel Flight. We had orange juice. Then we had dinner at Marie Calendar pies. His interest in communication fascinates me. He kept teasing me and putting me on the spot so I confronted him. II told him how Bishop Cluff had a crush on his third grade teacher and so threw a rock at her. I asked him if he was throwing rocks at me. He admitted he was (I think he has a crush on me)
1974, Saturday July 2
Schubert
Theater
We went to the Schubert Theater so see “A Little Night music” The play didn’t do too much for me but Kent sure did. I couldn’t believe how much he turned me on. It was frightening, a little because I enjoyed it so much. I would have liked him to kiss me so much I was afraid he would. After the play we walked around century Plaza Hotel. As he was leaving (walking out to the car) my mother suggested he come in for cookies and milk. I ran outside, hoping I could catch him. I did and we had a nice chat. I think he was feeling a little bad because he knew I didn’t really like the play. I’m glad we talked and he came in.
Kent was really beginning to affect me. I was terribly infatuated with him and very physically attracted to him. So much so it embarrassed me. I wanted to do the right thing really bad so I began praying to ask heavenly Father that I could hurry up and start to really care for him so I could get those “lustful” feeling under control.
There’s such a difference between love and lust I know that when you really care for someone, you are concerned with their growth, happiness and fulfillment more than your own gratification and desires. I communicated this strong attraction for Kent to my dad. He said that when he and my mother were going to gather there was really a strong physical attraction between them. But he loved her so much he didn’t want anything to happen to her that would hurt her. She often told him that he made her feel precocious and treasured. I decided that I wanted to love Kent that was. I decided to try concentrating on serious spiritual things when I was with him.
He excited me so much that in a week’s time I went out and bought nail polish lipstick, earrings, and really began to fuss over how I looked and what I wore. It was all so ridiculous I felt like I was 15 and had never been interested in anyone before. I was getting a kick out of watching my own reactions.
We went to the Schubert Theater so see “A Little Night music” The play didn’t do too much for me but Kent sure did. I couldn’t believe how much he turned me on. It was frightening, a little because I enjoyed it so much. I would have liked him to kiss me so much I was afraid he would. After the play we walked around century Plaza Hotel. As he was leaving (walking out to the car) my mother suggested he come in for cookies and milk. I ran outside, hoping I could catch him. I did and we had a nice chat. I think he was feeling a little bad because he knew I didn’t really like the play. I’m glad we talked and he came in.
Kent was really beginning to affect me. I was terribly infatuated with him and very physically attracted to him. So much so it embarrassed me. I wanted to do the right thing really bad so I began praying to ask heavenly Father that I could hurry up and start to really care for him so I could get those “lustful” feeling under control.
There’s such a difference between love and lust I know that when you really care for someone, you are concerned with their growth, happiness and fulfillment more than your own gratification and desires. I communicated this strong attraction for Kent to my dad. He said that when he and my mother were going to gather there was really a strong physical attraction between them. But he loved her so much he didn’t want anything to happen to her that would hurt her. She often told him that he made her feel precocious and treasured. I decided that I wanted to love Kent that was. I decided to try concentrating on serious spiritual things when I was with him.
He excited me so much that in a week’s time I went out and bought nail polish lipstick, earrings, and really began to fuss over how I looked and what I wore. It was all so ridiculous I felt like I was 15 and had never been interested in anyone before. I was getting a kick out of watching my own reactions.
1974, July 30
Hollywood Bowl
We went to the Hollywood Bowl together (He picked me up from
work) to hear Mozart and Beethoven's 7th Symphonies. I am
completely overwhelmed by all these places he's taking me. I thought I'd better
tell him that I could enjoy him anywhere, I really want' used to this
treatment, and that he was so delightful it didn't matter where he took me. He
said "Your just saying that because it's true" and he flashed me an
eye twinkling grin. We parked on Barnham Blvd, near the studios parking lot and
rode the HB bus to the bowl.
1974,
First kiss August 2
We dated three weeks and two days or 23 days
before we kissed.
1974, August 5,
1974, August 5,
Love
Tonight I told Kent Gardiner that I was beginning to love him very much. It was our sixth date. Crazy.
To love you
After so short a time
Is as natural as if
You had opened a door
Walked in
And sat down beside me.
It seems incredible
That anything like this should ever happen to me
I’m really not complaining;
I’m just wondering what
I ever did without “we.”
You are springtime after a long winter.
Your mouth is warm
I think I could get drunk on your kisses.
Tonight I told Kent Gardiner that I was beginning to love him very much. It was our sixth date. Crazy.
To love you
After so short a time
Is as natural as if
You had opened a door
Walked in
And sat down beside me.
It seems incredible
That anything like this should ever happen to me
I’m really not complaining;
I’m just wondering what
I ever did without “we.”
You are springtime after a long winter.
Your mouth is warm
I think I could get drunk on your kisses.
1974,
Summer
Come, desert boy and walk with me awhile…
And together we will look
For the beautiful celestial city
Where Enoch, Abraham, and the Gods
Dwell.
I will make for you an oasis
Of love and acceptance,
And with a balm of understanding
Soothe your dry aching feet
From the hot desert sand.
I will fill your heart with a
Melody of joy,
And together we will laugh,
And weep,
And discover the hidden treasures
Of life
That most do not see.
We will bask in the light of the Son,
And run through the fields of prosperity;
Sit under an oak of righteousness
And listen to the warbling song of
Truth.
We will draw long upon the cool waters
Of purity
And raise a brimming chalice
To the thirsty and dry;
We will feast upon the nectar of
Service,
And breathe deeply the sweet fragrance
Of forgiveness.
We’ll wear stewardship as a garland
And pluck the flowers of opportunity;
We’ll sift through golden shafts of knowledge,
And create a bouquet
As a gift,
For anyone who wants it.
We’ll walk a path of diligence,
And take from the timber of faith and obedience
Lumber to build temples,
Sturdy and strong,
That will shield us from storms
That will surely come.
And when they come..
When mountains of despair
Overshadow you,
When valleys of loneliness yawn to
Engulf
And hot winds of hate
And insensitivity
Lash you and whip you about…
I will not leave you;
I will stand by your side and
Together
We will look for the dawn
That also,
Must surely follow the night.
How long our paths lie parallel
I cannot say’
But if I bring warm rains
Of compassion
That fall softly
Upon the vast wastelands
Of your soul,
Until it is fertile’
With the promise of harvest
And rich with life and hope;
If the journey was pleasant
And the city
Brighter,
Closer
More with reach;
Then
Come, desert boy and
Walk with me awhile.
Come, desert boy and walk with me awhile…
And together we will look
For the beautiful celestial city
Where Enoch, Abraham, and the Gods
Dwell.
I will make for you an oasis
Of love and acceptance,
And with a balm of understanding
Soothe your dry aching feet
From the hot desert sand.
I will fill your heart with a
Melody of joy,
And together we will laugh,
And weep,
And discover the hidden treasures
Of life
That most do not see.
We will bask in the light of the Son,
And run through the fields of prosperity;
Sit under an oak of righteousness
And listen to the warbling song of
Truth.
We will draw long upon the cool waters
Of purity
And raise a brimming chalice
To the thirsty and dry;
We will feast upon the nectar of
Service,
And breathe deeply the sweet fragrance
Of forgiveness.
We’ll wear stewardship as a garland
And pluck the flowers of opportunity;
We’ll sift through golden shafts of knowledge,
And create a bouquet
As a gift,
For anyone who wants it.
We’ll walk a path of diligence,
And take from the timber of faith and obedience
Lumber to build temples,
Sturdy and strong,
That will shield us from storms
That will surely come.
And when they come..
When mountains of despair
Overshadow you,
When valleys of loneliness yawn to
Engulf
And hot winds of hate
And insensitivity
Lash you and whip you about…
I will not leave you;
I will stand by your side and
Together
We will look for the dawn
That also,
Must surely follow the night.
How long our paths lie parallel
I cannot say’
But if I bring warm rains
Of compassion
That fall softly
Upon the vast wastelands
Of your soul,
Until it is fertile’
With the promise of harvest
And rich with life and hope;
If the journey was pleasant
And the city
Brighter,
Closer
More with reach;
Then
Come, desert boy and
Walk with me awhile.
Poems
by Suzanne to Kent
1974 Summer,
Yours
I am thine
not by compulsion
but by choice
For more than I have to
E'en more than I need to--
I want to be your, forever.
Therefore, I give
not as slaves give
despising command
Rather, I give
as queens give
loving service.
Suzanne
Of Brown Chevrolets and Setting Records
What are you thinking Miss
Murray?
Nothing...
What are you thinking, Big
Girl?
That my
gum is getting stale...
What are you thinking Dee
Uh,
that I'm happy
What are you thinking uh,
Deirdre-
Mmmm,
that I'm contended
What are you thinking?
I like
you...
Shell's a stale metaphor
So's a wall or a well--
But mine's breaking down,
whatever it is,
And I'm glad.
Dad said I was looking too hard for life
I disagreed
But I stopped looking for
anything in May
and I found something...
Grace said she hoped it would be fast
Something contradictory
about barriers--
Three weeks is fast.
What are you thinking Kent Gardiner?
I doesn't seem like I've
given a lot of promise
It's a stale metaphor
That wall or well
I do want to destroy it--
be free to, how did that
campfire conversation go?
"Express any emotion
in front of you...?"
I like you, I care.
Summer 1974
Thank you,
Thank you,
my sweetheart,
for the beautiful
priceless gift of yourself,
I will treasure it always,
you are the jewel
in the setting of my life:
Without you
I am not complete;
With you
I am far more beautiful
radiant
and strong than alone.
When we love each other we are being disciples of Christ
When we serve each other we
are serving God.
Summer 1974
(upon thinking of Kent at 1/15)
Analysis
Kent's his name
Kent's his name
Psych's his fame--
Words, words
ESP is for the birds
Let's keep this field respectable
Burgess in a plane worked
be rejectable
Bore, bore
The world's a whore
The body's desired by all
mankind
No one wants me for my
mind.
What? What?
Repetitious of a brat.
Let's grow up in this
hayday
And listen to what I've go
to say
Kent's his name
Psych's his fame
A big world he's got to
tame.
1974 Summer,
Yours
I am thine
not by compulsion
but by choice
For more than I have to
E'en more than I need to--
I want to be your, forever.
Therefore, I give
not as slaves give
despising command
Rather, I give
as queens give
loving service. Suzanne
1974,
Of Brown Chevrolets and Setting Records
What are you thinking Miss Murray?
Nothing...
What are you thinking, Big Girl?
That my gum is getting
stale...
What are you thinking Dee
Uh, that I'm happy
What are you thinking uh, Deirdre-
Mmmm, that I'm contended
What are you thinking?
I like you...
Shell's a stale metaphor
So's a wall or a well--
But mine's breaking down, whatever it is,
And I'm glad.
Dad said I was looking too hard for life
I disagreed
But I stopped looking for anything in May
and I found something...
Grace said she hoped it would be fast
Something contradictory about barriers--
Three weeks is fast.
What are you thinking Kent Gardiner?
I doesn't seem like I've given a lot of
promise
It's a stale metaphor
That wall or well
I do want to destroy it--
be free to, how did that campfire conversation
go?
"Express any emotion in front of
you...?"
I like you, I care.
Analysis, summer 1974
(upon
thinking of Kent at 1/15)
Kent's his name
Kent's his name
Psych's his fame--
Words, words
ESP is for the birds
Let's keep this field respectable
Burgess in a plane worked be rejectable
Bore, bore
The world's a whore
The body's desired by all mankind
No one wants me for my mind.
What? What?
Repetitious of a brat.
Let's grow up in this hayday
And listen to what I've go to say
Kent's his name
Psych's his fame
A big world he's got to tame.
1974, August 18,
1974, August 18,
Back rub
We attended Buddy party, Kent reassured me. I felt very close to him, kept rubbing his back, holding on to him. He got a chance to talk to my dad while the guests had refreshments, and my dad opened up. Kent really liked it and felt quite close to him. After the guests left Kent and I, Mom and Dad, Judy and Tom Demke, and later Jim, Jr. spent the evening talking, telling jokes, and listening to classical music. Dad played the organ a little too, and we sent Kent off at 11:00pm with some silent film Honky Tonk music. It was a very pleasant enjoyable evening. Kent gave me a picture of himself. Tom told the family that he loves Kent.
1974 August 19
We attended Buddy party, Kent reassured me. I felt very close to him, kept rubbing his back, holding on to him. He got a chance to talk to my dad while the guests had refreshments, and my dad opened up. Kent really liked it and felt quite close to him. After the guests left Kent and I, Mom and Dad, Judy and Tom Demke, and later Jim, Jr. spent the evening talking, telling jokes, and listening to classical music. Dad played the organ a little too, and we sent Kent off at 11:00pm with some silent film Honky Tonk music. It was a very pleasant enjoyable evening. Kent gave me a picture of himself. Tom told the family that he loves Kent.
1974 August 19
Shopping
We shopped some discount places for me for school with mom. I bought some old books, and found "Sonnets from the Portuguese" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and I read "Love me for love's sake only...." I want to love Kent that way.
We felt uncomfortable and came to the house. Mom went Visiting Teaching, and Kent and I ate something on the lawn and talked about our feelings. We didn't want to stay where we are, if it is right, we should move ahead. We decided that we needed to find out if it was right. I seem to always need a feeling check. We considered fasting and prayer and I decided that I would talk to my Dad, while he talked to his Home Teacher, Brother McFarland about when. We went to the Quad and I looked around and bought some underwear for school.
I talked to my dad after home night at the Salinas. I told him that I felt right and good about it but I wanted to be sure. He said that he had no reservations, and felt good about Kent and I getting married. He said that Kent was my equal. He said that we should plan tentatively to go ahead and get married, and see how it worked out with my semester away and during visits. If it felt the same then we should go ahead with our plans. He told about dating my mother during the Summer, and then driving her to El Monte in September when she started teaching, and courting her long distance from Arizona until they got married in December before Christmas. His philosophy was, if it is the right thing, it will work out: everything will fall into place.
We shopped some discount places for me for school with mom. I bought some old books, and found "Sonnets from the Portuguese" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and I read "Love me for love's sake only...." I want to love Kent that way.
We felt uncomfortable and came to the house. Mom went Visiting Teaching, and Kent and I ate something on the lawn and talked about our feelings. We didn't want to stay where we are, if it is right, we should move ahead. We decided that we needed to find out if it was right. I seem to always need a feeling check. We considered fasting and prayer and I decided that I would talk to my Dad, while he talked to his Home Teacher, Brother McFarland about when. We went to the Quad and I looked around and bought some underwear for school.
I talked to my dad after home night at the Salinas. I told him that I felt right and good about it but I wanted to be sure. He said that he had no reservations, and felt good about Kent and I getting married. He said that Kent was my equal. He said that we should plan tentatively to go ahead and get married, and see how it worked out with my semester away and during visits. If it felt the same then we should go ahead with our plans. He told about dating my mother during the Summer, and then driving her to El Monte in September when she started teaching, and courting her long distance from Arizona until they got married in December before Christmas. His philosophy was, if it is the right thing, it will work out: everything will fall into place.
1974, August 20,
Family Pole
I polled my family regarding their feelings about Kent and I. My mother--feels very good, confident right from the beginning. She wants Kent to ask my dad. She has reservations about time, not Kent. My dad--says let Kent figure out things--he's doing the right things. He's really for it. Says we're doing what's right. Jim, Jr.--feels "really good" about it Charles --thinks it's "okay"; he likes Kent, can live with him. Judy--he fits in with the family.
1974, August 21
I polled my family regarding their feelings about Kent and I. My mother--feels very good, confident right from the beginning. She wants Kent to ask my dad. She has reservations about time, not Kent. My dad--says let Kent figure out things--he's doing the right things. He's really for it. Says we're doing what's right. Jim, Jr.--feels "really good" about it Charles --thinks it's "okay"; he likes Kent, can live with him. Judy--he fits in with the family.
1974, August 21
Westcove Parking,
I was up at 8:00, and we went over to Westcove parking lot to look for my purse and the clothes that had been stolen out of Kent's car the day before. Then to the Police station to report it and the bank to close out my account and take out all of my money with me in a Cashiers Check. We went downtown L.A. and visited with William Binger a jeweler, about diamonds.
1974
I was up at 8:00, and we went over to Westcove parking lot to look for my purse and the clothes that had been stolen out of Kent's car the day before. Then to the Police station to report it and the bank to close out my account and take out all of my money with me in a Cashiers Check. We went downtown L.A. and visited with William Binger a jeweler, about diamonds.
1974
Ring
I tried to remain calm, but this was pretty exciting stuff. We looked at settings around the Mart and talked about rings. I said that I wanted mine designed. Kent wants a thin simple band. We went to Bullocks to look up Vaughn's, a Men's clothing store and bought a safety pin so I wouldn't be tripping so much on my torn pant cuff. We stopped at Vaughn's and Kent found a blue plaid suit he liked. We returned to the car parked in Arco Garage. I was tired, hungry, and bored with the day, and I fell asleep in the car. I made lunch while Kent and my dad went down to pick up the Jag that was being worked on. I called the Police Station and gave information, etc. It seemed that Kent and I couldn't leave until 4 pm to run lots of errands. We went down to DMV and got a temporary license. We talked about reading the scriptures together when we were married. We went to May Co., where I got 2 blouses. We were bored and tired, mostly tired. I wanted something to perk us up and so I told Kent (as we were walking out of the store) that the next person I saw I would tell them how wonderful he was. I saw a lady and I began walking towards her and Kent covered my mouth. I got in the car and spotted some little old man sitting there in the parking lot (he was there when we went in). Kent went to get in and I stuck my head out of the window and said, "Hey, you know what?" He's wonderful," pointing to Kent. The man laughed, and Kent pulled me in and kept grabbing and pinching my thigh on the way to the leather works shop for a new purse. He loved it. The next person I saw was a Chicano sitting in a car smoking, and I said I was in love with Kent.
Next we went to the stamp redemption center for two blankets. We got lost on the way and got there just as they were closing up. I couldn't make up my mind what to get, but we said, "We love you" to the salesperson and "I'm in love with him" (Kent). Kent told me I was crazy but that he loved me anyway.
His Old Car
I tried to remain calm, but this was pretty exciting stuff. We looked at settings around the Mart and talked about rings. I said that I wanted mine designed. Kent wants a thin simple band. We went to Bullocks to look up Vaughn's, a Men's clothing store and bought a safety pin so I wouldn't be tripping so much on my torn pant cuff. We stopped at Vaughn's and Kent found a blue plaid suit he liked. We returned to the car parked in Arco Garage. I was tired, hungry, and bored with the day, and I fell asleep in the car. I made lunch while Kent and my dad went down to pick up the Jag that was being worked on. I called the Police Station and gave information, etc. It seemed that Kent and I couldn't leave until 4 pm to run lots of errands. We went down to DMV and got a temporary license. We talked about reading the scriptures together when we were married. We went to May Co., where I got 2 blouses. We were bored and tired, mostly tired. I wanted something to perk us up and so I told Kent (as we were walking out of the store) that the next person I saw I would tell them how wonderful he was. I saw a lady and I began walking towards her and Kent covered my mouth. I got in the car and spotted some little old man sitting there in the parking lot (he was there when we went in). Kent went to get in and I stuck my head out of the window and said, "Hey, you know what?" He's wonderful," pointing to Kent. The man laughed, and Kent pulled me in and kept grabbing and pinching my thigh on the way to the leather works shop for a new purse. He loved it. The next person I saw was a Chicano sitting in a car smoking, and I said I was in love with Kent.
Next we went to the stamp redemption center for two blankets. We got lost on the way and got there just as they were closing up. I couldn't make up my mind what to get, but we said, "We love you" to the salesperson and "I'm in love with him" (Kent). Kent told me I was crazy but that he loved me anyway.
His Old Car
Grandma Breiten
We went over to his house to get his old car. We got malt, and I called Grandma Breiten. I cleaned up the dishes and told him about the rule in my parent’s house about being alone in a man's apartment (it's a no-no). Kent said he wished I wouldn't do the dishes, and I kept doing them. As we left he told me I crossed his sensitive line when he felt he was being questioned. I tried to reflective listen but felt bad and said that I didn't think I could stick drive his car to my grandmothers. He said there was the room for guilt and he kissed me a few good times. I felt better and tried to drive down the street. He said that it felt like he had driven here before with me, it fitted. I told grandma about Kent and I. She was excited and said that she'd make my wedding dress. She walked out to the car with us. Kent was so tired he could hardly think. We asked about trailers as a possible future home to live in.
Suzanne: August 22, 1974,
We went over to his house to get his old car. We got malt, and I called Grandma Breiten. I cleaned up the dishes and told him about the rule in my parent’s house about being alone in a man's apartment (it's a no-no). Kent said he wished I wouldn't do the dishes, and I kept doing them. As we left he told me I crossed his sensitive line when he felt he was being questioned. I tried to reflective listen but felt bad and said that I didn't think I could stick drive his car to my grandmothers. He said there was the room for guilt and he kissed me a few good times. I felt better and tried to drive down the street. He said that it felt like he had driven here before with me, it fitted. I told grandma about Kent and I. She was excited and said that she'd make my wedding dress. She walked out to the car with us. Kent was so tired he could hardly think. We asked about trailers as a possible future home to live in.
Suzanne: August 22, 1974,
We spent a quiet Thursday evening together.
About this time Kent wrote this poem for me:
For Susan
I like you just the way you are
Your walking your talking your interesting moves
And yet these things change with time,
I like your ways of becoming
Your moods, your feelings, your patterned light
And yet others possess these same qualities,
More than anything else, my dear,
I like you for your inner beauty becomingly displayed, your spirituality virtue, trust, kindness, and delicate love but most of all your closeness to our Father in Heaven.
1974, August 23
About this time Kent wrote this poem for me:
For Susan
I like you just the way you are
Your walking your talking your interesting moves
And yet these things change with time,
I like your ways of becoming
Your moods, your feelings, your patterned light
And yet others possess these same qualities,
More than anything else, my dear,
I like you for your inner beauty becomingly displayed, your spirituality virtue, trust, kindness, and delicate love but most of all your closeness to our Father in Heaven.
1974, August 23
Beach
We went to the beach and got sunburned. We bought some food for dinner and double dated with my parents to the Hollywood Bowl for their Tchaikovsky Spectacular. The program included Romeo and Juliet, both the Piano Concerto No. 1 and the Violin Concerto, plus the finale of the 1812 Overture with military band, cannon, and fireworks. Zubin Mehta conducted.
1974, Sunday, August 25,
Church
We went to his ward, and the Smiths in the evening. We talked outside, me sitting on his lap and he on the rear fender of his car about sex and striving to be morally chaste in our courtship together. We were determined to get married in the temple and let nothing stand in our way. He said that I was the purest girl he'd ever known in his life.
1974
We went to the beach and got sunburned. We bought some food for dinner and double dated with my parents to the Hollywood Bowl for their Tchaikovsky Spectacular. The program included Romeo and Juliet, both the Piano Concerto No. 1 and the Violin Concerto, plus the finale of the 1812 Overture with military band, cannon, and fireworks. Zubin Mehta conducted.
1974, Sunday, August 25,
Church
We went to his ward, and the Smiths in the evening. We talked outside, me sitting on his lap and he on the rear fender of his car about sex and striving to be morally chaste in our courtship together. We were determined to get married in the temple and let nothing stand in our way. He said that I was the purest girl he'd ever known in his life.
1974
Suzanne:
He wrote this poem for me before I left for school:
I'm lost in the depth of her love.
Entrapped by arms that know my name
Nestled in a listening tenderness and
filled to capacity by her
Overpowering adoration, abounded
Understanding and a depth that goes beyond.
August 30, 1974
We went to the Hollywood Bowl together (He picked me up from work) to hear Mozart and Beethoven’s 7th Symphonies. I am completely overwhelmed by all these places he’s taking me. I thought I’d better tell him that I could enjoy him anywhere, I really wasn't used to this treatment, and that he was so delightful it didn’t matter where he took me. He said “Your just saying that because it’s true” and he flashed me an eye twinkling grin. We parked on Barnham Blvd, near the studios parking lot and rode the HB bus to the bowl.
Sometime during the next few days I drove up to BYU with Sandy Salins in her little pinto. She was a girl that I had reactivated over the last couple of years in Hacienda Heights I Ward. She was even brave and trusting enough of me to allow me to drive her stick shift car part of the way.
1974 September 8
I'm lost in the depth of her love.
Entrapped by arms that know my name
Nestled in a listening tenderness and
filled to capacity by her
Overpowering adoration, abounded
Understanding and a depth that goes beyond.
August 30, 1974
We went to the Hollywood Bowl together (He picked me up from work) to hear Mozart and Beethoven’s 7th Symphonies. I am completely overwhelmed by all these places he’s taking me. I thought I’d better tell him that I could enjoy him anywhere, I really wasn't used to this treatment, and that he was so delightful it didn’t matter where he took me. He said “Your just saying that because it’s true” and he flashed me an eye twinkling grin. We parked on Barnham Blvd, near the studios parking lot and rode the HB bus to the bowl.
Sometime during the next few days I drove up to BYU with Sandy Salins in her little pinto. She was a girl that I had reactivated over the last couple of years in Hacienda Heights I Ward. She was even brave and trusting enough of me to allow me to drive her stick shift car part of the way.
1974 September 8
Campus Plaza – Proposal
Suzanne: Kent asked me to marry him tonight
while we were sitting in the gutter. I told him yes.
Suzanne: After I got settled in Campus Plaza, Kent came up to see me that first weekend in September (7th and 8th). I remember sitting out front with him on the curb with our feet in the street gutter talking about getting married when I said to him, "Hey, do you realize that you've never officially asked me to marry you?" And so he said, by the way, would you marry me? Of course I said yes. Then I called to some passersby, "Hey! This guy just asked me to marry him!" They looked kind of askance at us, and we laughed. Our courtship and love had come along so quickly and naturally that we had just began to assume that we would get married.
We tentatively set January 18th as the date. I wanted a few weeks after I got home from this semester at BYU to get ready. Kent really wanted to get married in December during his 2-week vacation from teaching. We made a list of pros and cons, consulted other people, and prayed about it. Then we changed the date to Dec 21. I panicked once--it was so soon and we would have to do everything while apart from each other. But then I felt good about it after talking and thinking about it some more.
We called up my parents and told them. I remember that my mother wasn't too thrilled with the timing. She was planning a trip to Egypt and Israel with my grandmother and was overwhelmed at the prospects of marrying a daughter off a couple of months after her return--especially when this daughter was going to be several hundred miles away at school up until just before the wedding.
We decided to have the reception at my folk’s home in Hacienda Heights. It was big, less formal and easier to decorate than the church cultural hall, and there is a nice warm feeling about a home that we wanted at our reception.
1974 September 10
Hi, Sweetheart,
It was good to hear
your voice on the phone. I sure do love you, darling.
Hey this paper I'm
writing (erasable typing paper) is great to type on. It saves time because it's
so easy to erase what you type...you might be interested in i;t.
Honey I'm so swamped
right now I'm going berserk. Not really. I enjoy it. I write out a schedule of
things I need to do and at what time each day before I find I accomplish much
more and can plan ahead better. I want to be able to start planning 1/2 hour
gospel study in the morning. I spend hours studying other things when actually
the gospel is the foundation of all truth. I try to read a chapter in the
morning and one in the evening...but that doesn't really give me a chance to
study any topic or subject, principle or follow an idea through. I sure enjoy
praying...it is becoming so fulfilling and meaningful.
I ran into Jeffrey
while trying to fit in tennis (I'm still having trouble) He sure misses
you guys. He asked me when I was going to invite him to dinner. I think I will.
He's so cute.
I am reading
the most fantastic book, Between Parent
and Child by Haime Genott. My dad follows his philosophy, I can
tell. Essentially he says that in disciplining a child parents used to
stop undesirable acts but ignored the urges that brought about the acts.
Basically he says 1). mirror the child's feelings. 20State as limit which
is educational and character building and 3) provide an alternative behavior
for him to do. It's a book I think you'd like. I also liked up Reality
Therapy by Glasser. Reality Therapy is teaching a person to be
responsible for his own acts...a little like Problem Solving in S.E.E.
I've been wanting to get this for a long time. Stephen Covey recommends
it highly.
I've heard a lot of
good things about Glasser. he worked in a girls Delinquency Home which had a
phenomenally high percentage (I think 90%) of rehabilitation because of his use
of "Reality Therapy" He's written another book "Schools
Without Failure, about public schools. I think you'd like that one too. I don't
have it.
Here's a list of
things we need to think about then I have to go. Will write again
soon. Love all of you with all of me. Suzanne
(See Suzanne's paper
on preparing for a wedding)
Rings, Pictures,
invitations, Wedding bridesmaids, date of wedding, honeymoon, favors for
wedding party, reception line, wedding dinner, reception, school for Suzanne
1974
Suzanne Picks her Colors,
Suzanne Picks her Colors,
I had wanted blue and gold colors, or yellow
and white. I love daisies, or yellow roses, and light ruffled, frilly dresses;
but these didn't seem right just before Christmas. So I changed the colors to
rich dark colors--deep red, blue, green, and gold velvets for the attendants,
and red roses and satin for me. It seemed wiser to take advantage of the season
in our decorating ideas since my mother already had so many lovely Christmas
decorations and garlands. Shortly after this, while praying and contemplating
marriage with Kent I penned these words:
1974 Suzanne:
1974 Suzanne:
Are you humming?
Yes "Are you humming?" he asked her.
She sighed contentedly, her chin resting on his shoulder.
A warm sensation was generating from her chest and circulating throughout her entire body.
It soothed, comforted her flighty mind with a soft melody, calm and peaceful, refreshing as a cool breeze on a hot summer day.
It rolled up in a ball and caught in her throat, sometimes making it hard for her to swallow or talk.
A small fire glowed quietly within her secret chambers.
Kindled naturally by the Son and fueled by a faithful lover, it burned steadily and grew brighter with each passing day.
If she gave it sufficient air she knew someday it would consume her whole being. Once he asked her, "How will you know?"
At the time she wasn't sure.
Now she was.
It's because she hums.
I read this poem to two of my roommates, Colleen and Doretta, and shared some of my feelings. They completely listened to me and accepted it. We also shared about how we had each individually fasted and prayed about a place to live at school before deciding on Campus Plaza. Colleen read some poems from Kent's book "EL SLEUTH" (?) and was enthralled. All she could say was "It's been real". She liked our poems and stories to each other and wanted a copy of some. Kent really has a way with words. He can say things the right way, simply, and down to earth.
Some quotes that I liked and wrote down at this time: “Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it kindles the great.” To someone who's “thinkaboutable” from someone who's thinking about."
October 6
Yes "Are you humming?" he asked her.
She sighed contentedly, her chin resting on his shoulder.
A warm sensation was generating from her chest and circulating throughout her entire body.
It soothed, comforted her flighty mind with a soft melody, calm and peaceful, refreshing as a cool breeze on a hot summer day.
It rolled up in a ball and caught in her throat, sometimes making it hard for her to swallow or talk.
A small fire glowed quietly within her secret chambers.
Kindled naturally by the Son and fueled by a faithful lover, it burned steadily and grew brighter with each passing day.
If she gave it sufficient air she knew someday it would consume her whole being. Once he asked her, "How will you know?"
At the time she wasn't sure.
Now she was.
It's because she hums.
I read this poem to two of my roommates, Colleen and Doretta, and shared some of my feelings. They completely listened to me and accepted it. We also shared about how we had each individually fasted and prayed about a place to live at school before deciding on Campus Plaza. Colleen read some poems from Kent's book "EL SLEUTH" (?) and was enthralled. All she could say was "It's been real". She liked our poems and stories to each other and wanted a copy of some. Kent really has a way with words. He can say things the right way, simply, and down to earth.
Some quotes that I liked and wrote down at this time: “Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it kindles the great.” To someone who's “thinkaboutable” from someone who's thinking about."
October 6
Conference
General conference weekend, we looked at and priced rings and read about them. We read that Provo was the best place to get them according to one survey because so many young couples at BYU got married. We looked at silver, china, crystal, beds, books, and patterns. We firmed up our plans and Kent's brother Mark took some pictures of us for our wedding announcement.
1974, On October 11,
I came home and bought some patterns and material for my grandmother to make my wedding dress and trousseau. We looked at wedding announcements and tentatively decided on one design.
On October 22, 1974
General conference weekend, we looked at and priced rings and read about them. We read that Provo was the best place to get them according to one survey because so many young couples at BYU got married. We looked at silver, china, crystal, beds, books, and patterns. We firmed up our plans and Kent's brother Mark took some pictures of us for our wedding announcement.
1974, On October 11,
I came home and bought some patterns and material for my grandmother to make my wedding dress and trousseau. We looked at wedding announcements and tentatively decided on one design.
On October 22, 1974
Marriage Class
I started some Marriage Classes at BYU in one of the old academy buildings on lower campus. I think it was the old Martin building. The classes were some extension classes that were offered in the evening--Tuesdays, I think. I remember having to talk my way into taking them without Kent. Everyone thought it was very odd for me to attend alone. I remember seeing Steven McConkie there with a pretty, independent-looking gal that he was engaged to. My roommate Jeanne Fitch had set me up with him last February for a girls' choice prom to help me get over Brad Jenkins. He was Elder McConkie's son, and I had met him in a Missionary Scripture class. I remember thinking that he was the most socially inept young man that I had ever gone out with and I was very surprised to see him at those classes.
Several times I walked around BYU campus that Fall, so sad to think of never coming back to that beautiful wonderful place, full of so many opportunities for growth and learning. There is such a marvelous, infectiously inspiring Spirit at that school. Several times I sat on a wall on Upper Campus looking out over panoramic Provo down below and contemplated what I was giving up for what I was gaining. I dearly wanted to return someday, if it was the Lord's will, but I knew in my heart that all the degrees in the world were small in comparison to a beautiful forever family, which my heart desired most. Learning and positions and service to humanity could come later, but my family couldn't. Once I had asked Kent if he would wait for me while I went on a mission and he said no, he was ready to get married and start his family now. I knew that I was pursuing the better course in life, but still it was hard for me to think of all the other interesting roads in life that I would not be taking.
By October 25
I had a picture taken by Revoir studios (I bought a special 8x10) for Kent as a wedding present. I checked out colleges to attend the spring semester after we were married, and had transcripts mailed out. I had decided to attend Cal State Northridge, which was about 30 miles north of Santa Monica where Kent had found us an apartment. Grandma fit me for my clothes, and we chose and ordered our announcements.
1974, From Her by Suzanne,
The other night, Sweetheart
When I said my prayers,
I asked Heavenly Father to marry us,
I extended a personal invitation To Him,
the Son, the Holy Ghost,
And all the hosts of heaven
To come to our wedding.
I made a special request that your mother be present.
I told him if He couldn't be there Himself
I would understand,
But to please send the Holy Spirit of Promise
To seal us in a celestial bond
And dwell with us in our home
So we could come and live in His someday.
I fell asleep in a beautiful cloud of light.
November 1, I put a down payment on a ring I fell in love with at Schabaram's in Orem. Once I saw it, I could never get it out of my mind, no matter how many other rings we looked at together. It was a set, with the diamond surrounded by six little diamonds, and I imagined that it would be like Kent and I surrounded by our six future little children, for that was how many we wanted to have.
On one trip down home my dad took me to pick out all my temple clothes.
On November 9
We picked up the ring, went over our finances, and picked up our announcements.
1974, November 15
I made wedding, shower, and temple lists, decided decorations.
November 22
I came home for Thanksgiving weekend. I had my premarital exam from my Dad. I met with Bishop Dallas and my dad for my temple recommend. It was quite a thrill to meet them in the eye and say YES! I am morally clean. It brought tears to my father's eyes. Kent talked with his Bishop in the Santa Monica ward that he was now living in and which I would be too after we were married. I can't remember if I met him at that time or not. It was Bishop Rex Nichols.
Sunny Ahlman gave me a bridal shower that weekend I seem to recall. It seems to me that not many people were able to come, but I remember some towels from Kent's mother Carol.
We got our marriage license and addressed wedding announcements. We also made a list of music we liked and wanted played on the stereo during the reception. December 2 I mailed out Thank Yous, schooling info, and job applications for after marriage.
I started some Marriage Classes at BYU in one of the old academy buildings on lower campus. I think it was the old Martin building. The classes were some extension classes that were offered in the evening--Tuesdays, I think. I remember having to talk my way into taking them without Kent. Everyone thought it was very odd for me to attend alone. I remember seeing Steven McConkie there with a pretty, independent-looking gal that he was engaged to. My roommate Jeanne Fitch had set me up with him last February for a girls' choice prom to help me get over Brad Jenkins. He was Elder McConkie's son, and I had met him in a Missionary Scripture class. I remember thinking that he was the most socially inept young man that I had ever gone out with and I was very surprised to see him at those classes.
Several times I walked around BYU campus that Fall, so sad to think of never coming back to that beautiful wonderful place, full of so many opportunities for growth and learning. There is such a marvelous, infectiously inspiring Spirit at that school. Several times I sat on a wall on Upper Campus looking out over panoramic Provo down below and contemplated what I was giving up for what I was gaining. I dearly wanted to return someday, if it was the Lord's will, but I knew in my heart that all the degrees in the world were small in comparison to a beautiful forever family, which my heart desired most. Learning and positions and service to humanity could come later, but my family couldn't. Once I had asked Kent if he would wait for me while I went on a mission and he said no, he was ready to get married and start his family now. I knew that I was pursuing the better course in life, but still it was hard for me to think of all the other interesting roads in life that I would not be taking.
By October 25
I had a picture taken by Revoir studios (I bought a special 8x10) for Kent as a wedding present. I checked out colleges to attend the spring semester after we were married, and had transcripts mailed out. I had decided to attend Cal State Northridge, which was about 30 miles north of Santa Monica where Kent had found us an apartment. Grandma fit me for my clothes, and we chose and ordered our announcements.
1974, From Her by Suzanne,
The other night, Sweetheart
When I said my prayers,
I asked Heavenly Father to marry us,
I extended a personal invitation To Him,
the Son, the Holy Ghost,
And all the hosts of heaven
To come to our wedding.
I made a special request that your mother be present.
I told him if He couldn't be there Himself
I would understand,
But to please send the Holy Spirit of Promise
To seal us in a celestial bond
And dwell with us in our home
So we could come and live in His someday.
I fell asleep in a beautiful cloud of light.
November 1, I put a down payment on a ring I fell in love with at Schabaram's in Orem. Once I saw it, I could never get it out of my mind, no matter how many other rings we looked at together. It was a set, with the diamond surrounded by six little diamonds, and I imagined that it would be like Kent and I surrounded by our six future little children, for that was how many we wanted to have.
On one trip down home my dad took me to pick out all my temple clothes.
On November 9
We picked up the ring, went over our finances, and picked up our announcements.
1974, November 15
I made wedding, shower, and temple lists, decided decorations.
November 22
I came home for Thanksgiving weekend. I had my premarital exam from my Dad. I met with Bishop Dallas and my dad for my temple recommend. It was quite a thrill to meet them in the eye and say YES! I am morally clean. It brought tears to my father's eyes. Kent talked with his Bishop in the Santa Monica ward that he was now living in and which I would be too after we were married. I can't remember if I met him at that time or not. It was Bishop Rex Nichols.
Sunny Ahlman gave me a bridal shower that weekend I seem to recall. It seems to me that not many people were able to come, but I remember some towels from Kent's mother Carol.
We got our marriage license and addressed wedding announcements. We also made a list of music we liked and wanted played on the stereo during the reception. December 2 I mailed out Thank Yous, schooling info, and job applications for after marriage.
1974, 19 years old
BYU Essay on Grades
During my sophomore
year in college I ambitiously enrolled in a basic Interior Design class. With
visions of "Home Beautiful" awards firing my imagination, I began
class with great enthusiasm. I carefully completed my first assignment and
eagerly anticipated the results. A bleak "C-. too sloppy brought my ego to
a crashing halt. Sloppy?... ...Did she have any idea how much loving and
thoughtful work I put o that picture? What more did I have to do in order to
get an "A"? What about all the information I'd been able to synthesize
and apply, didn't that count for anything?... Paper after paper, was returned
with similar notations. Disillusioned and discouraged, I began to focus on
other pursuits for the remainder of the semester.
As a result of this
experience I began distrusting (if not despising)" grading as an effective
means of student output feedback. I strongly dislike grading because
it compares one’s performance to that of other members of a class rather than
to a given body of knowledge. Crudely labels and categorizes, is not adequately
specific, seems an arbitrary tool of the teacher and because frequently the
grade itself becomes the student’s main objective.
Throughout my
primary school years I always did well in comparison with other students
because of my quick grasp of principles, inner motivation, and positive home
environment. After a "jam session" with the school psychologist,
however, I was placed in an ELP program with other "gifted" students.
Immediately my GPA dropped. I was only a C or an average student then by comparison.
Why? Because I was being compared with the higher performance
standard the other students in the class. If this is the
standard then it is as variable as the group of students is. On he other hand
there is a sense of justice when a student's performance is graded
in relation to his ability to apply a given set of principles have been taught
by the teacher. One reason for my feelings of unfairness is that my work was
compared to that of a couple of other students who spent a great deal of time outlining
the different parts of their pictures in expensive felt tip markers and then
mounted them on construction paper. While that is very pretty
(Sibiu is awash in aristocratic elegance. Noble Saxon history emanates from every art nouveau facade and gold-embossed church. Renowned composers Strauss, Brahms and Liszt all played here during the 19th century, and Sibiu has stayed at the forefront of Romania's cultural scene through its festivals of opera, theatre )
I worked very hard
in High School to bring my C+ average up to an A-. I graduated in the top ten
percent of my class and gave a speech at the graduation ceremonies. I
considered myself to be an A- person; ''C" no longer fit into my
self-concept. But no matter what masterful accomplishments I had achieved
previously and was achieving in other fields, every time I walked in the door
of that college Interior Design class I became a C minus student., a less than
average person. I felt trapped and suffocated inside a steel vault of
categorization, and it seemed as though I could do nothing to break
out. My grade when I completed the course “C+”.
When you go in for a
physical exam, the attending physician doesn't announce that you have a C minus
body. Like a physician a teacher should be a diagnostician;; he should as
objectively as possible assess your situation and prescribe specific
suggestions for improvement. My English 155 course was a very rewarding
experience because I felt that not only I had an excellent command of
composition skills, but that there was also a direct relationship between my
work and my grade. My teacher, a grad student, returned each paper with a grade
and several reasons why that grade had been given. Each paper was heavily
marked in red ink with comments about grammar, form, description, etc. We were
able to rewrite each paper and resubmit it for a final grade which took
precedence over the first given grade. It was infinitely satisfying to be able
to change a C-grade paper to an A-grade paper. It reinforced my feelings of worth
and competency. I not only felt that I was in charge of my destiny,) but that
there was a direct correlation between my destiny and my actions, I greatly
appreciated the time and concern that particular teacher gave to the students
in her class.
If there is no
stated direct correlation between
Finally, it is
unfortunate but too often the grade becomes the end goal rather than)the
knowledge synthesized and applied. Shortly after my lst English 155 class I ran
into Jim, a fellow student, on the steps of the administration building. I
asked him how he felt about the class and his reply was surprisingly very
negative. While he was dissatisfied with his grade, he had not rewritten a
single paper in the class because he did not care to put forth the additional work.
For him, the real learning experience was never realized.
In conclusion, I
recommend not that we do away with grades altogether but that we do away with
relying on grades as a main means of responding to student output. I would
prefer to see a specific, detailed response a student's work, so that students
will have more accurate feedback concerning their performance in regard to a
given body of information
1974, Spring March 7
Organizational behavior Interim reports R
Thomas Hicks. S Brown, 18 years old
Personal Character objectives
Personal Character objectives
I have been getting
approximately seven hours sleep a night - doing much better than last semester
but still I'm not doing as well as I think I can. While I have been
getting on time more often than before, I haven't reached my 75% of the time. I
think the problem lies in lack of internal discipline. I haven't been
getting up exactly 1 hour before like I planned. It's not that I can't do
this I just haven't been I think I will change my goal of 75% to 50% because I
know that I can obtain this. I will have to get up 1 hour before whether
I've had a full 7 hours sleep or not.
Mental
I haven't been
listening to the radio 2x a week like I had planned, although I listen more
than before I think because I haven't always been getting up 1 hour before
class. Notice how interrelated these are? Break down in internal
discipline in one area affects all areas. I can do better by working on my
first personal goal. Also I haven't been planning my days like I should I
really notice a difference when I do. I think working with my roommate
closer on these goals will really help. Meeting with my group once a week
helps too because I have to give an accountability.
Emotional
I have been work on
my interpersonal goals and have noticed a marked improvement while I don't set
aside a specific time for meditation lack of daily planning but I have been
reviewing my behavior through the day at various times and trying to visualize
how the Savior would have behaved the growth and things I have leaned are
priceless in helping me to see the greater fulfillment.
Spiritual
My Relief Society
work is caught up, my reports are on time and I am experiencing a real Joy in
magnifying my calling. I suffer from absent mindedness, but generally because I
have been fulfilling my calling to a greater degree. I have noticed how
it has affected the other members of the presidency, the visiting teaching
secretary and the attendance secretary and indirectly my self system has
affected the whole organization. I've changed finishing the reports on
the 3rd Sunday to begin working on them the fourth Sunday. This is
because it is impossible to begin any earlier. I have been controlling my
thoughts, I think I'll change the idea of setting as goal to pray after scripture
reading during the day, besides regular night and morning prayers. I
don't think I'll have that mandatory. Instead I'll strive for a prayerful
attitude all the time - where I constantly feel that closeness - that ability
to check in with Him and share inner space and get feedback. One reason
for the change is that frequently I read the scriptures before I go to bed -
then I say my evening prayers anyway I think a prayerful attitude is more
worthy goal. I find that frequently throughout the day I reach to tap
that divine source informally - maybe when I'm just walking along.
Working with my roommate closer should help me to improve in these areas that I am slacking off.
1974, BYU class assignment
Reflective listening, 19 years old
It seems like we
seldom really listen to each other. It is a lonely and frustrating experience
not to feel heard or understood. I learned that I too often take the role
of sender in communication. I learned that it is feelings of insecurity in
"saving my life." thatg keeps from losing it and finding it. I found
that I am often judgemental and too wrapped up in my own world. I wonder how
many people have felt "shut out" because of this in me. I also
learned that others are a lot like me...have the same feelings, similar experiences.
I feel closer to people and we have much deeper conversations . What I've
learned from this experience in reflective listening could fill volumes.
Dave was much more receptive to what I had to say when he felt truly
understood. Many times I would go and talk to my dad about problems or
something - not really seeking advice but just wanting to feel
understood. I think this is what my girlfriend needed. I have felt
such a need in this subject that I have been studying this for some time.
My fiance and I have found this very enhancing jin our relationships. One
time I "crossed his sensitive line." By reflecting his feelings he
was able to get his own feelings out in the open and we could deal with them.
My just understanding how he felt was enough to ease the situation.
I found that by concentrating on the person his voice, verbalization and body movements, blocking everything else out except trying to empathize, understand what it is like to be that person - then I could listen better. I had to discipline myself to not evaluate or think of what I was going to say next.
I reflect back what I've heard and I found it more effective to use a word to describe what they are feeling as well as what i think I heard and ask for cororboration.
Feelings are so inextricably linked with perception that being able to describe how a person if feeling is just as important as what he is saying. I would look them in the eyes touch them on the arm, try to reflect what they are really saying and show by my body actions that I am listening and understood.
I often noticed my little sister after my mother denied her something, follow her around, crying but mother I want to" saying it over and over or at other times seeing my brother locking up inside and tuning out my mother because he wasn't listened to or felt understood. It's a wonderful thing to feel understood, to r[be real and accepted around another person. I hope that my children can feel like I understood the. and accept their feelings.
Suzanne Brown
September 12, 1974
Assignment I: Reflective Listening
1. The door
gave a thudding sound. I went to answer it and found an
odd friend, Dave
standing a little sheepishly before my apartment.
"Dave! How are
you?"
Shrugging, "Ah,
all right." He blinked his eyes with a nervous
twitch.
"Not so good ,
huh?"
"Oh, things
could be better."
"You still
haven't been able to work things' out with your girl-
friend?"
"Naw." By
now he had entered the living room and slumped into a couch.
He looed like a lost
puppy. "I saw her at a dance last night..."His
face lighted a
little.
"You
did?!" I exclaimed excitedly.
"Yea," he
smiled a little. "We danced for a while and went out-
side and talked for
a bit...."
"You got a
chance to talk to her?"
He went on to
describe what sounded like a very painful and frustrating
one-sided
conversation--with him talking, and her not saying too much.
When he finished I
said.
"Wow, it sounds
like you're really not communicating with one another too well. It's
frustrating because you really have no idea
where you stand with
her. You're stuck out on a limb. To
try and tell her how you feel.is like throwing darts at a dart board,
blindfolded.
"Yea. .
.yea". Relief was evident in his whole body. While he had been talking I
noticed his hands were a little shaky. He occasionally
blinked nervously
and I noticed he was thinner then I had remembered
him.
"This is really
a painful and traumatic experience for you. I'll
bet you've hardly
eaten or slept at all, the last few days (he nodded his head) I'll bet you feel
like you're wrapped in a hot feverish blanket and completely
isolated from the rest of the world"
"Oh, I do! You
know, I sit in the Wilkinson Center and watch all these couples walking around
holding hands and just radiating and think that only two weeks ago we were
doing the same thing. You know we were together for 64 straight days".
"All the sweet
memories of pleasant times together haunt you. It
seems so strange to
love someone and be with that person and then suddenly not be with them and not
be able to love them"
I fixed him some
lunch and he chatted away, obviously more relaxed
and comfortable. He
was relieved someone understood what it was like to be him Someone had bridged
the gulf of his isolation. He washed my dished, happy to feel needed and of
service. The barriers down, he confided to me that he had looked for a girl
that had all of my qualities. Peeling more secure, he asked about my fiancé and
I. My fiancé and I are very much interested in reflective listening and leveling. I
used this opportunity to introduce these to Dave thru describing our
relationship. He became very exited and very interested. When I showed Dave a
book on reflective listening that Kent (my fiancé) and I use,
Dave was so enthralled, he held it like it was the crown jewels. Becoming very
excited, he asked if he could borrow it to go talk to his girlfriend. Fortified
by my emotional support and the book, he ran out the door a different man than
when he had entered. I walked into my bedroom feeling extremely elated at being
able to reach his inner core so effectively.
2. I
saw a girlfriend I had grown up with (but who had recently moved
away) up on campus. We walked home together. I asked her about her family....
"Oh, they 're
all right"
"They seem to be
adjusting all right?'.'
"Yea,.. I'm
really worried about David, though,”
"He seems to be
having a tough time of adjusting to his stepmother
and new brothers and
sisters?"
"Yea. . . it's
hard for me to talk about it"
"David means a
lot to you; it's hard to talk about it to just
anyone because you
start getting choked up about it."
"Yea..,'. She
followed.me into the apartment and spent the next hour talking about the
feelings she was having and her family. It was kind of an unwind for her.. a
release of a lot of pent up feelings and worries. I could tell she likes me and
feels comfortable with me. He spent a long time getting ready to leave. Again
this was a thrilling experience for me to allow a person to be real and know
that I was helping another person deal with their feelings by just accepting
the and non-judgmentally listening to them.
"Blessed are they that do...thirst"
by Suzanne Gardiner, 1970s
Is it the woman
who refreshes man?
Is she not the well
from whom her
children
draw increasingly?
Is it she who offers
compassion's pure
water
to wandering thirsty
soul?
Then
From whom shall she draw
when the spring is
dry
and her soul lies
parched
and aching desert
land?
Who shall give her
life--
that she may blossom
as a rose and
sweet refreshment
find?
Oh
Dearest Savior!
source of
"living water"
how I thirst after
thee!
Make me "like a
well watered garden,"
a spring...whose
waters fail not" *
that I may give
like thou dost me,
sweet sustenance
continually.
*Isaiah 58: 8-12
1974 Fall BYU
Goals
I am going to
develop a celestial divine relationship with my mate. I am going to accomplish
this by developing Christ like attributes in my own character striving
continually to love him in a pure and Godly way and do everything within my
power to help him become that son of God he was meant to be. I value
fidelity, loyalty, truth, purity and cleanliness, thoughtfulness, mature love,
harmony and security in the home., the spirit of god unity, tenderness,
affection, mature deep interpersonal communication, peace and calmness
etc. The means by which I am going to accomplish this is that I am
planning to marry Kent Gardiner in the Los Angeles temple on December 21,
1974. I am now taking Family Living Classes to prepare myself and plan to
continually learn more and more how to be a better homemaker, I try to
frequently (daily) let my fiance know I love him (with notes, cards, letters
etc) and will continue that habit throughout our lives. We always discuss
how we feel about each other and different things. I am going to seek to
perfect our communication , always know about things he is interested in, and
seek to help him accomplish his goals. While we are apart we pray and
study the gospel daily. When we are married we are planning to do so
together. We now seek to establish a consensus on all decisions and will
continue to seek to be unified in our daily lives. I am going to make
myself available to help him in his career )as a school teacher) and we
are planning at the end of each day to share our feelings with each
other. I am going to look nice for him in the evening when he gets home
(if possible...I am planning to make the effort) and continue the little
niceties in our married life that I do for him now.
In helping my children to achieve exaltation I am going to achieve the goals I have already set. Kent and I are planning to seek the Lord's guidance continually in raising our children to take advantage of resources such as books, home teachers, our bishops, the scriptures etc in raising our children. Our goal is to be unified and reach a consensus in dealing with the problems that come up. Our goal is to help our children become self governing, and our disciplinary actions will be made with that in mind. We recognize that our children are in reality fellow brothers and sisters, children of our Father in Heaven, not our possessions to do with as we please. I am presently studying Child Development and continue to do see Kent is an elementary school teacher and is taking some more studies. I value the eternal family unit stewardship, family security and eternal increase, exaltation etc.
I am confident that with time patience and faith in the Lord I can accomplish these goals.
1974,
Interpersonal objectives, BYU Class
assignment, 18 years old
My interpersonal skills are definitely
improving. I'm consciously becoming more empathetic and I'm getting
positive response from those around me. My confronting skills are
improving. I'm sharing more of my feelings than I am concentrating on others
behavior. However I need to work more on Reality Therapy
and empathy. I'm still too preachy and I need to communicate trust,
approval and faith more than anxiety, judgment and rejection. I think I
am doing well on democratic problem solving but I feel I can improve on
persuasion by carefully thinking through y feelings and ideas and presenting
them to others in terms of their experience.
I am really beginning to internalize the concept of being influenced by others before being able to influence them. I have a very close friend going to school here from Sweden. He's Lutheran and this is his first semester. He feels very strongly about taking good care of your physical body and taught health in the Swedish Sc=schools. I find that by letting him influence me in those areas of physical health - he is more receptive then to my influence and personal testimony of the church. Because I am changing to ideals that are important to him - he is gradually becoming receptive to my ideals. I run with him every day at the field house - or I exercise at night before I go to bed and I tell him the next day. I eat more fresh fruits and less deserts. We both try to get seven hours sleep and encourage each other. He in turn has begun coming to church with me Sunday and family home evenings. (his own family) and even went to the fireside completely o his own last Sunday. Since he and I others friends had dates. He has begun blessing his food at every meal and I believe prays every night and morning. Occasionally he reads little pamphlets or talks I give him and he has shown an interest in the gospel. He is so pleased with my desire to be influenced and taught by him to do what he likes - that he wants to be influenced and is more willing to be taught by me. We're really grown close to each other and I can sense and unconsciousness desire to become on in our ideals. I certainly intend to keep up my exercise and good eating habits. The real clincher is going to be this Monday when I go with his family group to the Salt Lake Visitors Center. I'm going to; prepare this weekend, fast that day and bear my testimony to him, of how much this gospel means to me and the truthfulness of this church. I believe it will gave a profound affect upon him.
Last Monday we went Roller Skating. Neither of us is very good, but I am atrocious. He skated backwards in front of me, holding my hands, and told me to fall on him when I lost balance so I wouldn't hurt myself. Can you imagine so much trust? I could hardly believe it. More than anything I didn't want to fall, because then he would too. Also I had to keep an eye out for him so he wouldn't bump into anything. This situation seemed to me an analogy of the delicate balance between me and those around me. both members and non- members.
1974
Godly
Attributes
Love, like all Godly attributes, is divinely inspired. It’s something to be sought after, and when obtained, nurtured and cherished, protected and added upon by righteous living. Love is Sacrifice and Giving, being stern and steadfast in truth and principle, but quick to forgive an offender. God is the source of all love. The more like him we become, the more we love. The most Godly of all attributes is the ability to love.
Know that God loves you so much that one can hardly comprehend it. I think that one can catch a glimpse of how that Heavenly parent loves his children when one becomes a parent oneself. I know that Heavenly Father loves me. I know that he only wants for my happiness, and would not suffer me to do anything that would not be for my best. I love him with all my heart. He has blessed me with all that my heart could desire—the gospel, a good family who taught me the gospel, the opportunity to be born in these latter-days, when the gospel has been restored, with prophets alive and guiding his flock, in a land of freedom and opportunity (yes, even a land choice above all other lands). He has blessed me with all that I need for my physical body. He hath redeemed my soul from death and hell and sin. Yea, though I walk through the valley of death I will fear no evil, for He is with me.
The most important decision one will ever make thought time and all eternity is to choose whom we shall serve. We already made that decision once in the pre-existence. Every single on of you chose to follow the Lord. Now it is important that we abide by that decision. I, like Joshua of old, cry out “As for me and my house…we will serve the Lord.” I want nothing more in this life than to be worthy of his love, and to bring Him Joy and Happiness for my life of service. Oh the ecstasy, to return to his presence, kneed at His feet, and have Him throw his arms around me and weep with me saying, “Well done thou good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of thy Lord.”
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. I gladly entrust all that I am and have into his hands. My joy would be full indeed if all my precious children were held in those loving arms also.
December 6 and 7 we mailed announcements and ordered flowers
1974 December 14
Love, like all Godly attributes, is divinely inspired. It’s something to be sought after, and when obtained, nurtured and cherished, protected and added upon by righteous living. Love is Sacrifice and Giving, being stern and steadfast in truth and principle, but quick to forgive an offender. God is the source of all love. The more like him we become, the more we love. The most Godly of all attributes is the ability to love.
Know that God loves you so much that one can hardly comprehend it. I think that one can catch a glimpse of how that Heavenly parent loves his children when one becomes a parent oneself. I know that Heavenly Father loves me. I know that he only wants for my happiness, and would not suffer me to do anything that would not be for my best. I love him with all my heart. He has blessed me with all that my heart could desire—the gospel, a good family who taught me the gospel, the opportunity to be born in these latter-days, when the gospel has been restored, with prophets alive and guiding his flock, in a land of freedom and opportunity (yes, even a land choice above all other lands). He has blessed me with all that I need for my physical body. He hath redeemed my soul from death and hell and sin. Yea, though I walk through the valley of death I will fear no evil, for He is with me.
The most important decision one will ever make thought time and all eternity is to choose whom we shall serve. We already made that decision once in the pre-existence. Every single on of you chose to follow the Lord. Now it is important that we abide by that decision. I, like Joshua of old, cry out “As for me and my house…we will serve the Lord.” I want nothing more in this life than to be worthy of his love, and to bring Him Joy and Happiness for my life of service. Oh the ecstasy, to return to his presence, kneed at His feet, and have Him throw his arms around me and weep with me saying, “Well done thou good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of thy Lord.”
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. I gladly entrust all that I am and have into his hands. My joy would be full indeed if all my precious children were held in those loving arms also.
December 6 and 7 we mailed announcements and ordered flowers
1974 December 14
Wedding
Shower
Some of my friends at school gave me a wedding shower. I remember a girl named Sandy? Gave it for me and gave me some cookie sheets with cookie recipes, including one for snicker doodles which has become a family favorite. I picked up Kent's ring, a simple gold band, had a hair appointment for a trim (seems like it had a perm in it too to help hold the gentle curl). I picked out a yellow penoire and gown at ZCMI's in Orem and some slippers. My mother wanted me to get a white set but they were out so I chose the yellow. I paid all my bills and the count down was one week. Kent made reservations for places to stay on our honeymoon up the coast to San Francisco.
Kent compiled many of his poems and stories over the past four years (including some of ours to each other) into a book that he had printed and called Cordial Smiles. He gave these out at Christmas time to some of his and my favorite people and family members as a gift.
That final week I took my exams and packed. I had a tennis final on Friday Dec 20th, which I decided to skip. I wrote a note to the teacher, told him what was happening and said he could give me whatever grade he wanted, I really didn't care.
Chris Bertilson came to see me before I left and help me pack up. He was a dear boy from Sweden (now a member of the stake presidency in Stockholm) whom I had fellowshipped into the church last spring. He had really liked me, and I am sure was really concerned about my leaving school to marry a man he didn't think I knew very well. All of the fears of the unknown ahead of me, and the sadness of leaving everything else behind overcame me, and as I hugged him goodbye I cried. I'm sure he wondered about me. He told me maybe I shouldn't get married, and I tried to assure him that I really believed I was doing the right thing.
I left Tuesday or Wednesday evening for home. I got a ride home from a fellow named Rod (Smith? Stewart?) Who was bringing all of he and his wife's things home to California at the end of the semester. He had rented a U-Haul which he was pulling behind his loaded truck and had a little room for my trunks and suitcases. His wife Karen (the sister of an old beau--that dastardly Brad Jenkins who had dumped me the year before) had gone home to her parents a few weeks before because she was pregnant and feeling poorly.
It was the most uncomfortable llllooonnnnngggg ride I've ever taken in my life in that small truck cab. The bench seat was so painful to sit in or lie down on most of the way. I hardly slept those 12 or so hours and became nearly delirious trying to talk to Rod to keep him awake. He told me how much he was really looking forward to seeing his wife again. He said that he really liked being married and he really missed her. He quizzed me several times to see if I felt like I was making the right decision. I think he was concerned because the family knew how crushed I was after Brad broke up with me. I told him all about our courtship and our feelings and he seemed assured afterwards. He drove to his wife's folk’s house in Chino about 5 o'clock in the morning, too tired and anxious to see his wife to drive me home.
I slept for a bit on the front room couch. It was very strange to be in the house of this old flash-in-the-pan beau a few days before my marriage. If I had married Brad, it would have been the absolutely worse thing I could have possibly done in my whole life--he was so emotionally and spiritually unstable. I remember receiving a definite "NO!" like an electric shock through me when I had prayed about marrying Brad over a year before. In contrast, I knew that Kent was the man for me, the one I wanted to raise an eternal family with. I felt a burning peaceful assurance about him all the time, especially when I was on my knees praying about it. I remember the line in my patriarchal blessing about how the Lord would place the knowledge of whom I should marry into my mind if I prayed and followed His counsel. But to be in Brad's home again and think how much I had liked him once before made everything have an unreal dream-like quality to it. Perhaps the Lord let me have this experience to confirm that promise in my patriarchal blessing. I overheard Brad's grandmother in the kitchen saying she didn't like me and wanted me out of the house. Brad said he didn't like me either. I pretended not to have heard this discussion and Brad acted very cordial to me that morning. I called dad and Kent, and it seems to me that Karen drove me and my things home after a bite of breakfast. I remember driving off thinking how weird this was and I couldn't believe it was happening to me.
1974, Planning a Marriage December 14
Every girl dreams all her life about getting married some day. Even with all my mental fantasies, I didn’t feel at all prepared or even desirous of marriage when Kent Gardiner and I began our fast-paced romance.
Although I had met Kent a year ago last February (when he gallantly took my girlfriend and I home from a girl’s conference) our first date was July 19th of this year to of all places, a Dodger baseball game. Exactly one month later, August 19, I conferred with my father and he with his home teacher about what we should do about our feelings for each other. We both felt really good about each other and our relationship, in fact our relationship seemed to be characterized by an overriding feeling of calmness and reassurance; yet both of us were worried about the short time of our association together, and besieged with doubts about our own personal readiness for such a giant step as marriage. Both my dad and his home teacher-Brother Mc Farland - counseled us to tentatively plan on getting married, then; as long as we kept feeling natural and good about it; as long as we were trying hard individually to do the right things the Lord would guide us in our actions and plans.
I left for BYU a week later, really knowing in my heart that this was the will of the Lord but still anxious about my capacity and readiness. I fasted for two and half days and read the scriptures as soon as I was settled in my apartment. Perhaps the most comforting words I pondered were those of Nephi as he said, “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the things which he commandeth them.”
I felt reassured that if this was the Lord’s will I could do it and He would help me. But was this the Lord’s will? Funny, I never received any supernatural manifestations or revelations, but my chest burned with humming warmth, that seemed to melt away all my fears. Kent came up the week school began September 4th thorough the 8th, and while we were sitting on the gutter curb out in front of Campus Plaza he said:
Hey, I’ve never asked you to marry me, have I?”
“No, you haven’t. I was just thinking about that the other day.”
“Well, would you like to marry me?”
“Um” I hesitated teasingly, “Yes.” And thus began our official engagement.
I called my parents Sunday September 8th after Kent left and casually told them Kent and I thought we would get married the middle of January, during his semester break from school. They oozed congratulations and pleasure.
The next few weeks were especially hectic because a lot of decisions needed to be made. Kent and I moved the date up to the 21 of December after some deliberation and thought. Kent scheduled our wedding at the Los Angeles temple for the morning of the 21st and found a small apartment in Santa Monica for us to live in after we’re married.
My mother asked the son of a friend to take our pictures for us, and the florists told us to order two weeks in advance. Kent and I decided we would like too play classical music at the reception on our stereo and if possible ask my former piano teacher if he would play a few numbers – particularly from such composers as Beethoven and Tchaikovsky, because Kent and I enjoyed several of their pieces of work at the Hollywood Bowl this past summer for our dates.
Kent came up for October General Conference on the 4th, 5th, and 6th. We looked at millions of rings together and learned how the quality of a diamond is judged; the four C’s of diamonds are “cut, clarity, color, and carat”. We looked at china and silver and crystal and decided upon a deep brown stoneware-Kent really likes that- a simple stainless steel pattern, and omitted sterling silver and crystal deciding that they were too expensive and impractical for us for about the next fifteen years (until our family that we hope to have gets older). Kent and I also looked at beds for our future home and had a salesman in Salt Lake ZCMI explain how to judge the quality of a bed. We examined several lines, I read an article about beds in a consumer magazine, and Kent eventually purchased a top quality bed on sale in a major department store in California. Before Kent left, his brother took some pictures of us for our announcements.
I chose heavy bridal satin and pearl beading for my Gown and washable polyester-Lutesong-and a washable polyester lace trim for the temple dress. I chose rayon velvet and another material that was bright and sparkly for the bridesmaids to choose from. My grandmother took my measurements and immediately goes to work on it.
1974
Some of my friends at school gave me a wedding shower. I remember a girl named Sandy? Gave it for me and gave me some cookie sheets with cookie recipes, including one for snicker doodles which has become a family favorite. I picked up Kent's ring, a simple gold band, had a hair appointment for a trim (seems like it had a perm in it too to help hold the gentle curl). I picked out a yellow penoire and gown at ZCMI's in Orem and some slippers. My mother wanted me to get a white set but they were out so I chose the yellow. I paid all my bills and the count down was one week. Kent made reservations for places to stay on our honeymoon up the coast to San Francisco.
Kent compiled many of his poems and stories over the past four years (including some of ours to each other) into a book that he had printed and called Cordial Smiles. He gave these out at Christmas time to some of his and my favorite people and family members as a gift.
That final week I took my exams and packed. I had a tennis final on Friday Dec 20th, which I decided to skip. I wrote a note to the teacher, told him what was happening and said he could give me whatever grade he wanted, I really didn't care.
Chris Bertilson came to see me before I left and help me pack up. He was a dear boy from Sweden (now a member of the stake presidency in Stockholm) whom I had fellowshipped into the church last spring. He had really liked me, and I am sure was really concerned about my leaving school to marry a man he didn't think I knew very well. All of the fears of the unknown ahead of me, and the sadness of leaving everything else behind overcame me, and as I hugged him goodbye I cried. I'm sure he wondered about me. He told me maybe I shouldn't get married, and I tried to assure him that I really believed I was doing the right thing.
I left Tuesday or Wednesday evening for home. I got a ride home from a fellow named Rod (Smith? Stewart?) Who was bringing all of he and his wife's things home to California at the end of the semester. He had rented a U-Haul which he was pulling behind his loaded truck and had a little room for my trunks and suitcases. His wife Karen (the sister of an old beau--that dastardly Brad Jenkins who had dumped me the year before) had gone home to her parents a few weeks before because she was pregnant and feeling poorly.
It was the most uncomfortable llllooonnnnngggg ride I've ever taken in my life in that small truck cab. The bench seat was so painful to sit in or lie down on most of the way. I hardly slept those 12 or so hours and became nearly delirious trying to talk to Rod to keep him awake. He told me how much he was really looking forward to seeing his wife again. He said that he really liked being married and he really missed her. He quizzed me several times to see if I felt like I was making the right decision. I think he was concerned because the family knew how crushed I was after Brad broke up with me. I told him all about our courtship and our feelings and he seemed assured afterwards. He drove to his wife's folk’s house in Chino about 5 o'clock in the morning, too tired and anxious to see his wife to drive me home.
I slept for a bit on the front room couch. It was very strange to be in the house of this old flash-in-the-pan beau a few days before my marriage. If I had married Brad, it would have been the absolutely worse thing I could have possibly done in my whole life--he was so emotionally and spiritually unstable. I remember receiving a definite "NO!" like an electric shock through me when I had prayed about marrying Brad over a year before. In contrast, I knew that Kent was the man for me, the one I wanted to raise an eternal family with. I felt a burning peaceful assurance about him all the time, especially when I was on my knees praying about it. I remember the line in my patriarchal blessing about how the Lord would place the knowledge of whom I should marry into my mind if I prayed and followed His counsel. But to be in Brad's home again and think how much I had liked him once before made everything have an unreal dream-like quality to it. Perhaps the Lord let me have this experience to confirm that promise in my patriarchal blessing. I overheard Brad's grandmother in the kitchen saying she didn't like me and wanted me out of the house. Brad said he didn't like me either. I pretended not to have heard this discussion and Brad acted very cordial to me that morning. I called dad and Kent, and it seems to me that Karen drove me and my things home after a bite of breakfast. I remember driving off thinking how weird this was and I couldn't believe it was happening to me.
1974, Planning a Marriage December 14
Every girl dreams all her life about getting married some day. Even with all my mental fantasies, I didn’t feel at all prepared or even desirous of marriage when Kent Gardiner and I began our fast-paced romance.
Although I had met Kent a year ago last February (when he gallantly took my girlfriend and I home from a girl’s conference) our first date was July 19th of this year to of all places, a Dodger baseball game. Exactly one month later, August 19, I conferred with my father and he with his home teacher about what we should do about our feelings for each other. We both felt really good about each other and our relationship, in fact our relationship seemed to be characterized by an overriding feeling of calmness and reassurance; yet both of us were worried about the short time of our association together, and besieged with doubts about our own personal readiness for such a giant step as marriage. Both my dad and his home teacher-Brother Mc Farland - counseled us to tentatively plan on getting married, then; as long as we kept feeling natural and good about it; as long as we were trying hard individually to do the right things the Lord would guide us in our actions and plans.
I left for BYU a week later, really knowing in my heart that this was the will of the Lord but still anxious about my capacity and readiness. I fasted for two and half days and read the scriptures as soon as I was settled in my apartment. Perhaps the most comforting words I pondered were those of Nephi as he said, “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the things which he commandeth them.”
I felt reassured that if this was the Lord’s will I could do it and He would help me. But was this the Lord’s will? Funny, I never received any supernatural manifestations or revelations, but my chest burned with humming warmth, that seemed to melt away all my fears. Kent came up the week school began September 4th thorough the 8th, and while we were sitting on the gutter curb out in front of Campus Plaza he said:
Hey, I’ve never asked you to marry me, have I?”
“No, you haven’t. I was just thinking about that the other day.”
“Well, would you like to marry me?”
“Um” I hesitated teasingly, “Yes.” And thus began our official engagement.
I called my parents Sunday September 8th after Kent left and casually told them Kent and I thought we would get married the middle of January, during his semester break from school. They oozed congratulations and pleasure.
The next few weeks were especially hectic because a lot of decisions needed to be made. Kent and I moved the date up to the 21 of December after some deliberation and thought. Kent scheduled our wedding at the Los Angeles temple for the morning of the 21st and found a small apartment in Santa Monica for us to live in after we’re married.
My mother asked the son of a friend to take our pictures for us, and the florists told us to order two weeks in advance. Kent and I decided we would like too play classical music at the reception on our stereo and if possible ask my former piano teacher if he would play a few numbers – particularly from such composers as Beethoven and Tchaikovsky, because Kent and I enjoyed several of their pieces of work at the Hollywood Bowl this past summer for our dates.
Kent came up for October General Conference on the 4th, 5th, and 6th. We looked at millions of rings together and learned how the quality of a diamond is judged; the four C’s of diamonds are “cut, clarity, color, and carat”. We looked at china and silver and crystal and decided upon a deep brown stoneware-Kent really likes that- a simple stainless steel pattern, and omitted sterling silver and crystal deciding that they were too expensive and impractical for us for about the next fifteen years (until our family that we hope to have gets older). Kent and I also looked at beds for our future home and had a salesman in Salt Lake ZCMI explain how to judge the quality of a bed. We examined several lines, I read an article about beds in a consumer magazine, and Kent eventually purchased a top quality bed on sale in a major department store in California. Before Kent left, his brother took some pictures of us for our announcements.
I chose heavy bridal satin and pearl beading for my Gown and washable polyester-Lutesong-and a washable polyester lace trim for the temple dress. I chose rayon velvet and another material that was bright and sparkly for the bridesmaids to choose from. My grandmother took my measurements and immediately goes to work on it.
1974
Honeymoon Reservations
Kent made reservations for our honeymoon in Carmel and San Luis Obispo, California.
I had wanted to get my endowments out a day or two before the wedding to help me appreciate it separate from the sealing and so that it wouldn't be so much in one day, but the temple presidency at the time wanted the couples to do everything the same day. I had been reading The House of the Lord by James Talmage and hoped for a spiritual experience at the temple.
Kent made reservations for our honeymoon in Carmel and San Luis Obispo, California.
I had wanted to get my endowments out a day or two before the wedding to help me appreciate it separate from the sealing and so that it wouldn't be so much in one day, but the temple presidency at the time wanted the couples to do everything the same day. I had been reading The House of the Lord by James Talmage and hoped for a spiritual experience at the temple.
1974
Endowments
We listened to music Friday evening, and I went to bed after washing and setting my hair about midnight. Then I had to get up at 4:00 so that we could get to the temple by 6:00. I had come fasting that morning and was really excited about the coming events. I knew that this was the most important step I was taking in my life.
1974
Endowments
We listened to music Friday evening, and I went to bed after washing and setting my hair about midnight. Then I had to get up at 4:00 so that we could get to the temple by 6:00. I had come fasting that morning and was really excited about the coming events. I knew that this was the most important step I was taking in my life.
1974
Overpowering Cleansing
I remember really feeling an overpowering cleansing Spirit of the lord during the Washing and Anointing. The endowment was interesting but so different than what I was expecting and confusing to remember everything. My dear mother was my escort and she fussed over my bows and clothes to be sure everything was right and I was embarrassed. Afterwards we went up to the Solemn Assembly room to wait to be sealed. I remember that the air was so still and warm in those upper rooms and I was faint with exhaustion and hunger. I think we were sealed in room 3M by President Evans, the temple president.
I seem to remember him telling us to pray, pay our tithing, come to the temple often, and continue our courtship. He said something about our children and I thought he said our "eight children" which startled me, as I wanted six. (Kent said later he didn't say that.) My ears were popping and again things were overwhelming and dreamlike. I could barely take it all in. Kent said later that he felt that he was going to be consumed by the burning power of the Spirit he felt it so strongly in that room. I remember kissing across the altar, looking in the beautiful parallel mirrors at our forever reflection standing in that cluttered room with all our family and friends. It was a glimpse of heaven to contemplate endless association with all those dear people. I remember Kent's home teacher Brother McFarland and Brother Thielens, from Glendora Ward, Kent's folks, his Aunt Audrey, his brother Mark, Murray and Faye Cluff (my first Bishop), Felice and Mayo Smith, Joics and Gene Stone, my folks, my grandma Brown, and my sister Johanna. I'm sure that there were others (like probably Bishop Bradford and his wife), but I don't remember now.
After the sealing we took pictures outside the temple, then came home to a cold buffet at the house, which was supervised I believe by my grandmother Breiten and Joyce Osborn. Then I tried to take a rest and curled my hair for the reception.
Allen Lohrke took pictures for us at the reception. My old piano teacher Brother Abraham Ardean Neighbors played the piano and his wife Edna sang.
1974, December 21
I remember really feeling an overpowering cleansing Spirit of the lord during the Washing and Anointing. The endowment was interesting but so different than what I was expecting and confusing to remember everything. My dear mother was my escort and she fussed over my bows and clothes to be sure everything was right and I was embarrassed. Afterwards we went up to the Solemn Assembly room to wait to be sealed. I remember that the air was so still and warm in those upper rooms and I was faint with exhaustion and hunger. I think we were sealed in room 3M by President Evans, the temple president.
I seem to remember him telling us to pray, pay our tithing, come to the temple often, and continue our courtship. He said something about our children and I thought he said our "eight children" which startled me, as I wanted six. (Kent said later he didn't say that.) My ears were popping and again things were overwhelming and dreamlike. I could barely take it all in. Kent said later that he felt that he was going to be consumed by the burning power of the Spirit he felt it so strongly in that room. I remember kissing across the altar, looking in the beautiful parallel mirrors at our forever reflection standing in that cluttered room with all our family and friends. It was a glimpse of heaven to contemplate endless association with all those dear people. I remember Kent's home teacher Brother McFarland and Brother Thielens, from Glendora Ward, Kent's folks, his Aunt Audrey, his brother Mark, Murray and Faye Cluff (my first Bishop), Felice and Mayo Smith, Joics and Gene Stone, my folks, my grandma Brown, and my sister Johanna. I'm sure that there were others (like probably Bishop Bradford and his wife), but I don't remember now.
After the sealing we took pictures outside the temple, then came home to a cold buffet at the house, which was supervised I believe by my grandmother Breiten and Joyce Osborn. Then I tried to take a rest and curled my hair for the reception.
Allen Lohrke took pictures for us at the reception. My old piano teacher Brother Abraham Ardean Neighbors played the piano and his wife Edna sang.
1974, December 21
Reception
In the reception line were my folks, my Brown grandparents, Grandma Breitin and Edward, Kent's folks, my attendants who were my sisters Judy (in gold velvet) and Johanna (red), and Kent's sisters Gayle (blue) and Julie (green). Kent wore a grey tuxedo and his best friend Richard Watson was best man, with his brother Mark? My girlfriend Melinda Romney was a special helper in charge of the guest book. I remember my Grandmother Brown, who didn't come to Johanna's wedding because my grandfather did, was having the time of her life, and kept coming and standing between Kent and I as if she were the star of the evening. I remember that our new Bishop Nichols came all the way out from Santa Monica to attend the reception because we were going to be in his ward. Many people came, mostly friends of my parents, who brought us many lovely gifts.
I know that we had planned to display some special memorabilia of our courtship and places we had been to, pictures of us growing up and some of our poems, but I do not remember whether or not we actually did. I remember having a headache, feeling pretty and light-headed, and having a good time.
After the reception was over, we drove off in Kent's teal blue MGB to our Santa Monica apartment for the night. I remember having a fit of the giggles, which quite drove Kent batty. We went to Sacrament Meeting in our new ward the next day and drove out to my folks during the week to open Wedding Presents, have Christmas Eve celebration, etc.
Then after Christmas we took off on our honeymoon up the coast. We spent one night in a lovely hotel room over-looking Moro Bay. The next night in Carmel in the Hofbrau Inn. That night Kent washed his garments out (he forgot to pack extra pairs) and put them over the heater to dry and they burned--big giant holes. Because he had no others to wear he had to wear them. We spent the next night in Oakland by the temple. I think we attended a temple session, and church near there on Sunday. I know that we attended the San Francisco Ballet, the Nutcracker Suite I believe.
1974, December 21
Honeymoon
Kent and I marry and take a honeymoon to northern California. We stayed at our apartment from December 21 to the 25. On the 26th we went to Morrow bay at the Golden Tee Motel. I was drying my garments and burnt them. On the 27 we stayed at the Hoffsa House in Carmel. We got drenched in the rain and had dinner at the Spinning Wheel Steak House. On the 28th we drove the 17-mile ride on Monterey Peninsula. Then went to San Francisco and saw the Coit Tower. We looked for a motel, stayed at the Holiday Inn in Oakland, went to bookstores and saw the Nutcracker Suite at the War Memorial Opera House. On the 29th we went to church by the temple, had lunch at the Fisherman’s Grotto, saw the Golden Gate and Golden Gate Park and art museum. The 30th we dove home in 6 and a half-hours. I cooked my first meal. We had friend chicken, burnt potatoes, and broccoli, chicken gravy, fresh carrots, celery, milk in a silver pitcher. We also had our first family home evening on Eternal marriage. We talked about how we intended to make God a part of our marriage and promised to have family prayer, home evening, go to the temple, go to church, do scripture reading and try to live the commandments.
1975 January,
Santa Monica II Ward
I know that this is the right place for us here in this ward. Kent and I are very pleased with the warm reception you good people have given us and with all the help and support Bishop Nichols has been. We are anxious to love and be of service to you in any way that we can. I am delighted with my calling as Mia Maid Advisor. They are all lovely girls and I know that we are going to grow a lot with each other this year. I especially love the Mia Maid age because that Is when I began to discover "that something with in me."
A favorite teacher of mine, Reid Bradford sums up "that something": "For this is the journey that men make: to find themselves. If they fail in this it matters little whatever else they may achieve, money, fame, revenge. When they reach the end of the journey they can put them all into a bin marked ashes., They mean nothing But if each individual has discovered he has a Devine Soul, if he has discovered the principles upon which it's fulfillment is based, and if he implements the principles then he has discovered that something within and he can live with dignity and joy each day of his life.
I bear testimony that as we develop a personal relationship with the Savior we will discover our own divinity in the names of Jesus Christ, Amen.
William Woodridge had been a brilliant student with a promising future. then the depression hit, and like countless other jobless men he wandered the city streets by day beging for food and sleeping on the floors of jails at night. On one particularly drab and dreary day while he stood on a streetcorner waiting for thge light to change, he turned to the well dressed gentleman beside him and said simply "I'm hungry can you help me?" The man laid his hand on William's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "my friend," he said, what you need most is not food...what you need most is that something. Then before he walked away he handed me his card and it said "THAT SOMETHNING" and when you've found it come and see me again.
William walked down the street discouraged. Finally he turned into a pool hall and fell asleep because there was no where else to go. He dreamed a dream where came to tell him about THAT SOMETHING.
What is "THAT SOMETHING" William asked the personage. Is it faith, confidence, ambition? These are all parts of it, he replied "but they are really not that SOMETHING "how do you find it then? William asked by first saying "I will" The next thing he knew the owner was waking him up and telling to go elsewhere unthinking he said "I will" and vividly the dream came back to him.,
Ahead of him on the street a young boy was struggling with his load of boxes. William offered to help him and followed the boy to where he worked at the largest store in the city. Several men were busily packing boxes. Without waiting to talk to anyone William hung his coat up and began helping them. When it came time to clock out he told the supervisor he didn't have a number. He was given on and he finished his first day of work.
He worked hard and volunteered often for extra jobs, keeping for his motto the words, I WILL. One day when the shipping clerk was bogged down he offered his help and became his assistant. Together they worked on many problems. Often staying late. After perfecting a system they went to the chief supervisor about it. The supervisor was quite impressed with Woodridge. William took care to dress and present himself well. And he rose quickly in status in the company. Everyone assumed he was a friend of the owner and was in the business to learn it and eventually run it. When the chief supervisor went on vacation William was put in chis place. In exactly one years time he was holding down the most responsible job in the works. One day the owner came to visit the shop and asked who William was. Everyone was flabbergasted. They had assumed that William must have had soie connection with the owner to have risen so high in so short a time. When confronted about it he replied--"I's because of that something." When questioned further he retrieved the card that the well dressed man had handed him on a street corner earlier. It read "Matthew Morrison Randolph Bonds"
By some impossible coincidence, Mathew Morrison Randolph was the silent partner of the business.
Before the owner, the chief supervisor and Matthew Morrison Randolph, William recounhted to them the past year's experiences. From time to time as he told his story Randolph nodded his head in approval. ?When he finished they sat for a long time in silence broken finally by Randolph who said "And now tell me what you think that something is?"
William shook his head in dismay "you know more about it than I do, Mr Randolph. I answered, "but of this one thing I am certain it is a real power as read as electric current "you have it" Randolph answered. The lack of it is what keeps the underdog down and has kept men in the ruts of their digging for centuries. That something is your Divine Sould, my friend."
In the reception line were my folks, my Brown grandparents, Grandma Breitin and Edward, Kent's folks, my attendants who were my sisters Judy (in gold velvet) and Johanna (red), and Kent's sisters Gayle (blue) and Julie (green). Kent wore a grey tuxedo and his best friend Richard Watson was best man, with his brother Mark? My girlfriend Melinda Romney was a special helper in charge of the guest book. I remember my Grandmother Brown, who didn't come to Johanna's wedding because my grandfather did, was having the time of her life, and kept coming and standing between Kent and I as if she were the star of the evening. I remember that our new Bishop Nichols came all the way out from Santa Monica to attend the reception because we were going to be in his ward. Many people came, mostly friends of my parents, who brought us many lovely gifts.
I know that we had planned to display some special memorabilia of our courtship and places we had been to, pictures of us growing up and some of our poems, but I do not remember whether or not we actually did. I remember having a headache, feeling pretty and light-headed, and having a good time.
After the reception was over, we drove off in Kent's teal blue MGB to our Santa Monica apartment for the night. I remember having a fit of the giggles, which quite drove Kent batty. We went to Sacrament Meeting in our new ward the next day and drove out to my folks during the week to open Wedding Presents, have Christmas Eve celebration, etc.
Then after Christmas we took off on our honeymoon up the coast. We spent one night in a lovely hotel room over-looking Moro Bay. The next night in Carmel in the Hofbrau Inn. That night Kent washed his garments out (he forgot to pack extra pairs) and put them over the heater to dry and they burned--big giant holes. Because he had no others to wear he had to wear them. We spent the next night in Oakland by the temple. I think we attended a temple session, and church near there on Sunday. I know that we attended the San Francisco Ballet, the Nutcracker Suite I believe.
1974, December 21
Honeymoon
Kent and I marry and take a honeymoon to northern California. We stayed at our apartment from December 21 to the 25. On the 26th we went to Morrow bay at the Golden Tee Motel. I was drying my garments and burnt them. On the 27 we stayed at the Hoffsa House in Carmel. We got drenched in the rain and had dinner at the Spinning Wheel Steak House. On the 28th we drove the 17-mile ride on Monterey Peninsula. Then went to San Francisco and saw the Coit Tower. We looked for a motel, stayed at the Holiday Inn in Oakland, went to bookstores and saw the Nutcracker Suite at the War Memorial Opera House. On the 29th we went to church by the temple, had lunch at the Fisherman’s Grotto, saw the Golden Gate and Golden Gate Park and art museum. The 30th we dove home in 6 and a half-hours. I cooked my first meal. We had friend chicken, burnt potatoes, and broccoli, chicken gravy, fresh carrots, celery, milk in a silver pitcher. We also had our first family home evening on Eternal marriage. We talked about how we intended to make God a part of our marriage and promised to have family prayer, home evening, go to the temple, go to church, do scripture reading and try to live the commandments.
1975 January,
Santa Monica II Ward
I know that this is the right place for us here in this ward. Kent and I are very pleased with the warm reception you good people have given us and with all the help and support Bishop Nichols has been. We are anxious to love and be of service to you in any way that we can. I am delighted with my calling as Mia Maid Advisor. They are all lovely girls and I know that we are going to grow a lot with each other this year. I especially love the Mia Maid age because that Is when I began to discover "that something with in me."
A favorite teacher of mine, Reid Bradford sums up "that something": "For this is the journey that men make: to find themselves. If they fail in this it matters little whatever else they may achieve, money, fame, revenge. When they reach the end of the journey they can put them all into a bin marked ashes., They mean nothing But if each individual has discovered he has a Devine Soul, if he has discovered the principles upon which it's fulfillment is based, and if he implements the principles then he has discovered that something within and he can live with dignity and joy each day of his life.
I bear testimony that as we develop a personal relationship with the Savior we will discover our own divinity in the names of Jesus Christ, Amen.
William Woodridge had been a brilliant student with a promising future. then the depression hit, and like countless other jobless men he wandered the city streets by day beging for food and sleeping on the floors of jails at night. On one particularly drab and dreary day while he stood on a streetcorner waiting for thge light to change, he turned to the well dressed gentleman beside him and said simply "I'm hungry can you help me?" The man laid his hand on William's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "my friend," he said, what you need most is not food...what you need most is that something. Then before he walked away he handed me his card and it said "THAT SOMETHNING" and when you've found it come and see me again.
William walked down the street discouraged. Finally he turned into a pool hall and fell asleep because there was no where else to go. He dreamed a dream where came to tell him about THAT SOMETHING.
What is "THAT SOMETHING" William asked the personage. Is it faith, confidence, ambition? These are all parts of it, he replied "but they are really not that SOMETHING "how do you find it then? William asked by first saying "I will" The next thing he knew the owner was waking him up and telling to go elsewhere unthinking he said "I will" and vividly the dream came back to him.,
Ahead of him on the street a young boy was struggling with his load of boxes. William offered to help him and followed the boy to where he worked at the largest store in the city. Several men were busily packing boxes. Without waiting to talk to anyone William hung his coat up and began helping them. When it came time to clock out he told the supervisor he didn't have a number. He was given on and he finished his first day of work.
He worked hard and volunteered often for extra jobs, keeping for his motto the words, I WILL. One day when the shipping clerk was bogged down he offered his help and became his assistant. Together they worked on many problems. Often staying late. After perfecting a system they went to the chief supervisor about it. The supervisor was quite impressed with Woodridge. William took care to dress and present himself well. And he rose quickly in status in the company. Everyone assumed he was a friend of the owner and was in the business to learn it and eventually run it. When the chief supervisor went on vacation William was put in chis place. In exactly one years time he was holding down the most responsible job in the works. One day the owner came to visit the shop and asked who William was. Everyone was flabbergasted. They had assumed that William must have had soie connection with the owner to have risen so high in so short a time. When confronted about it he replied--"I's because of that something." When questioned further he retrieved the card that the well dressed man had handed him on a street corner earlier. It read "Matthew Morrison Randolph Bonds"
By some impossible coincidence, Mathew Morrison Randolph was the silent partner of the business.
Before the owner, the chief supervisor and Matthew Morrison Randolph, William recounhted to them the past year's experiences. From time to time as he told his story Randolph nodded his head in approval. ?When he finished they sat for a long time in silence broken finally by Randolph who said "And now tell me what you think that something is?"
William shook his head in dismay "you know more about it than I do, Mr Randolph. I answered, "but of this one thing I am certain it is a real power as read as electric current "you have it" Randolph answered. The lack of it is what keeps the underdog down and has kept men in the ruts of their digging for centuries. That something is your Divine Sould, my friend."
1975
Suzanne Wants a Job
Kent and I are fine. He's
Elders Quorum president and the work keeps him on his tows. He just
finished teaching Summer School course in Math and Rocketry. right now
he's reading the Autobiography of Parley P. Pratt. I feel more married to
old Parley lately than Kent. Oh Well, Parley's a good man and I'd rather share
my husband with him than a lot of other people I can think of. He how has
1 1/2 months off before he has to each again. He plans to work on Genealogy;
towards the end of August we'll take a couple of weeks in Idaho and Salt Lake
so he can work more and I can learn how by helping him.
Now that Mutual's over (I'm an adviser to the Young Woman 16-18 yrs) I have a break also. I'm contemplating a job at the temple in secretarial or the cafeteria. We'll save the money for children and a house and Kent's Master's Degree. Right now I'm working on my Book of Remembrance, a scrapbook and file system for notes and stories. If I get motivated I want to make some outfits and get my 4 generations done (xerox from Janna and Mom)
Friday we did some sealings with some people in our ward. It's nice living so close to the temple. Saturday we went to the Hollywood Bowl to hear some Tchaikovsky music. Next Saturday we're going to a Beethoven night with Kent's sister and husband and his 2 brothers and dates. I've been blessed with fine in-laws. Kent's father is in the High Council in Glendale. They're very supportive of us and leave us alone. Kent has a good, chummy relationship with his brothers and sisters (he's the oldest of 8". His friendship and devotion to his brother Mark (Young Adult president for Glendale Stake and Region is inspiring and touching.
1976 January 22
Laurel Advisor in Santa
Monica
As laurel advisor I can see so clearly the effect a girl's family has on her life, priorities, attributes my activity in the church, eats. One's family molds one's characters, and it is the exception or rare when an outside person will have such a dramatic influence ion one's life as to change values, goals, patterns of living. Now I understand the church's position in supporting the family, strengthening the home, and being a vehicle of the family in bringing salvation to all members. The following are some examples that I have seen as laurel advisor in Santa notice I Ward and Panorama City Ward.
1. Tammy's parents divorced when she was 3 months old. She always brings this up. While she is found of her uncle, she has never known a real father -daughter relationship. All of us must develop a relationship with our Father in Heaven but until then, we need someone close to us as a "Father Ideal" who can put his arm around us , listens with warmth and sympathy, give us counsel and direction. He must be a non sexual symbol who can give a girl security, sense of worth and value so she does not
need to find cheap substitutes for love and fulfillment.
Tammy has never seen a true righteous love between a man and a woman so she therefore has no comprehension be of what real love is...or any desire or need to obtain out,. Her parents haven't shown it to her, and she does not see her aunt and uncle as having this kind of desirable relationship.
Tammy sees her mother as being a poor example of happy and righteous living. According to her, her mother has been immoral and done some mean things to her etc. So Tammy has no womanly ideal to identify herself with. Her mother and she have a poor relationship...a non communicative, resentful power struggle. Tammy sees herself on the same level as her mother, rebels against discipline band authority. Both of them have said they feel the other sees them as a competitor, a sexual rival - both striving for the same men's attentions. When the sensitive relationship is gone - so is the power to influence. Consequently Tammy committed fornication at 13 years old with a 30 year old man who was still legally married. She discussed this with the Bishop 2 years later at 15 years old. While she discontinued sexual relations, she still thought about being with him. We lusted after him band committed adultery with him in her heart.. Thus she never completely 'abandoned the sin'. Therefore never repeated.
The Savior told a parable of a man who throughout an an unclean spirit and since he didn't replace it with anything the former unclean spirit got 7 others and came back to fill the void. The Savior also said that when a person recommits a sin it's a sign all his former sins return,. We'll when Tammy was 17 years old and just last month. She net a 30 year old fellow at her aunts and uncle's place. He was staying with them because his wife had thrown him out of the house band was divorcing him on grounds of infidelity. She invited him over in the evening a few days later while her mother was at work (she works nights). They committed adultery that very night and did every night for 2 weeks straight until he left town for a month on a "business trip" he supposed to return the 1st of February to go to divorce er court, Tammy says,. She doesn't expect to see him when he returns., She went to a clinic and is not pregnant, nor does she have VD. She says she can't honestly feel sorry for what she did within,. She doesn't have a conviction that what she did was wrong. She says she has not been immoral in between the first and fellow (13 and 17 years) She did say the fellows she has dated however have now become male prostitutes bad that the reason she Initially liked them was purely physical. I man rather dubious since she at first lied to me about her physical involvement with Jerry the, this last fellow until I trapped her into admitting it was much deeper than she had at first indicated.,
Tammy's relationship with God and her mother has continued to deteriorate. She feels her mother is suspicious about her activities. Last night when she couldn't have her black friends over she took her Mom's cart and left home, hasn't been back yet.
As laurel advisor I can see so clearly the effect a girl's family has on her life, priorities, attributes my activity in the church, eats. One's family molds one's characters, and it is the exception or rare when an outside person will have such a dramatic influence ion one's life as to change values, goals, patterns of living. Now I understand the church's position in supporting the family, strengthening the home, and being a vehicle of the family in bringing salvation to all members. The following are some examples that I have seen as laurel advisor in Santa notice I Ward and Panorama City Ward.
1. Tammy's parents divorced when she was 3 months old. She always brings this up. While she is found of her uncle, she has never known a real father -daughter relationship. All of us must develop a relationship with our Father in Heaven but until then, we need someone close to us as a "Father Ideal" who can put his arm around us , listens with warmth and sympathy, give us counsel and direction. He must be a non sexual symbol who can give a girl security, sense of worth and value so she does not
need to find cheap substitutes for love and fulfillment.
Tammy has never seen a true righteous love between a man and a woman so she therefore has no comprehension be of what real love is...or any desire or need to obtain out,. Her parents haven't shown it to her, and she does not see her aunt and uncle as having this kind of desirable relationship.
Tammy sees her mother as being a poor example of happy and righteous living. According to her, her mother has been immoral and done some mean things to her etc. So Tammy has no womanly ideal to identify herself with. Her mother and she have a poor relationship...a non communicative, resentful power struggle. Tammy sees herself on the same level as her mother, rebels against discipline band authority. Both of them have said they feel the other sees them as a competitor, a sexual rival - both striving for the same men's attentions. When the sensitive relationship is gone - so is the power to influence. Consequently Tammy committed fornication at 13 years old with a 30 year old man who was still legally married. She discussed this with the Bishop 2 years later at 15 years old. While she discontinued sexual relations, she still thought about being with him. We lusted after him band committed adultery with him in her heart.. Thus she never completely 'abandoned the sin'. Therefore never repeated.
The Savior told a parable of a man who throughout an an unclean spirit and since he didn't replace it with anything the former unclean spirit got 7 others and came back to fill the void. The Savior also said that when a person recommits a sin it's a sign all his former sins return,. We'll when Tammy was 17 years old and just last month. She net a 30 year old fellow at her aunts and uncle's place. He was staying with them because his wife had thrown him out of the house band was divorcing him on grounds of infidelity. She invited him over in the evening a few days later while her mother was at work (she works nights). They committed adultery that very night and did every night for 2 weeks straight until he left town for a month on a "business trip" he supposed to return the 1st of February to go to divorce er court, Tammy says,. She doesn't expect to see him when he returns., She went to a clinic and is not pregnant, nor does she have VD. She says she can't honestly feel sorry for what she did within,. She doesn't have a conviction that what she did was wrong. She says she has not been immoral in between the first and fellow (13 and 17 years) She did say the fellows she has dated however have now become male prostitutes bad that the reason she Initially liked them was purely physical. I man rather dubious since she at first lied to me about her physical involvement with Jerry the, this last fellow until I trapped her into admitting it was much deeper than she had at first indicated.,
Tammy's relationship with God and her mother has continued to deteriorate. She feels her mother is suspicious about her activities. Last night when she couldn't have her black friends over she took her Mom's cart and left home, hasn't been back yet.
1976, January 23
Laurel Adviser
Tonight my husband Kent, by
the power of the Melchizedek Priesthood set me apart as Laurel
Adviser of the Panorama City Wart in the Van Nuys Stake of Zion - under the
direction of and with the assistance of the Bishopric: Bishop Bert Higley, Tom
Pryor and Brad Higley. I don't recall whether Rick Hunlow second counselor was
there or not.
Kent gave me a blessing
that I would have the courage to express my convictions to the Laurel girls,
and the guidance of the Spirit to be sensitive to their individual problems and
motivate them to clean living and to return to their Father in Heaven by the
things I would say to them. He closed by blessing me with strength and
health in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
I appreciate Bishop
Higley's inspiration in asking my husband to set me apart. I am grateful I have
a husband who is worthy to bless me, and is willing to support me in my
callings so I can grow and work in the church - serve the Lord and His
children. . This is a tremendous blessing - not all women are so
richly blessed. I pray the Lord will strengthen me in looking to my
husband for spiritual guidance and help trusting him and being his queen
and priestess in this life. Surely this is my greatest calling and
the only one I may keep forever.
I sure do love Chad.
Now I know what apostle Elder Boyd K. Packer meant when he said someday you
would hold in your arms a little child who would mean more to you than anything
else in the world - including yourself that is why it sis so important to keep
yourself morally clean to give a good legacy to your children. This is what
procreation is all about.
1976 January 28, 1976 Friday
Tired, No Energy
I have been feeling very fatigued and sleepy lately...almost as if I'd been busy drugged; I just couldn't get enough sleep and rest. Kent's noticed it too and we've been quite concerned. Is it a virus? Anemia? It came on gradually a week ago Saturday. I slept all afternoon, went to bed early and slept late - telling Kent to tend Chad. I prayed fervently during the night that the Lord would bless and heal me to I could tend to my duties as wife, mother and laurel adviser. Sunday morning I awoke feeling much better and it seemed to have passed. Then Wednesday it seemed to come on again. I slept 11 hours that night and took a nap Thursday. I was very concerned because I felt terrible - like a black cloud was sitting on my chest and enveloping my mind in a cloud of despair and depression. And even more concerned because Kent told me that morning that the Stake President wanted to see him next that evening at 7 pm - and we. Both knew it was to call Kent to be Elder's Quorum President here in the Panorama City Ward, Van Nuys Stake. I feared that I may have mononucleosis and didn't know how I could physically support my husband in this call while he went to school as well in the evenings to get his Master's from Cal State Northridge. At the same time tend Chad, keep the house running smoothly and be Laurel adviser while being sick too. It seemed impossible. It seemed I would have to be released from my job as a laurel adviser.
My mother had intimated that I should seed a release under these conditions - and it did seem hard to make my meetings in the evening, I had to admit. But I knew I had been called by the Lord to this position. I loved my job and the girls. I was feeling success, a great rapport with the girls and the guidance of the Lord. I knew that the lord was in control and if he had called me to my position and Kent to his. He would provide a way for us to fulfill both. He knows better than anyone our circumstances, demand on time and capabilities. I felt that if I had faith in the lord, he would heal me. I read in Doctrine and Covenants Section 42 v 43 "And whosoever among you are sick and have not faith to be healed..." I knew it was possible to have the faith to be healed. I began by fervently to pray and ask the Lord to heal me. Help me to be able to fulfill my duties and assignments, responsibilities, It began to seem that with metal and spiritual exertion I could push this tired feeling into the background of my consciousness. I began vacuuming, ironing , cleaning up around the house and as time went one I felt more and more perky. By the time Kent came out of the Stake president's office I felt normal. After I came home from my Stake MIA meeting, tended Chad and talked with Kent I went to sleep about 11 pm. I got up at 3am with Chad for about 1/2 hour and then slept until 7 am but didn't feel the need to sleep longer, in fact could have slept less. I haven't felt this way in weeks. Today I felt energetic enough to carry out my household duties cheerfully and on schedule. I took an hour and 15 minute nap while Chad slept, to be sure I did not over tax my strength. Perhaps I will need to do this for a while. I attribute the dramatic change in how I feel to the power of the Lord and my faith in him.
In thinking about the power of faith, I recalled an incident that happened when IU was maybe 12 years old and my family and I were traveling through Southern Utah on our way home from conference. We were traveling inj our motor home (Corvail engine, beige color, homemade) and there was a strong wind blowing against one corner of the rig, making it difficult for my dad to drive. I lay on the bed in back and prayed that the Lord would lessen the force of the wind to make it easier for my dad. Later I asked my dad if the wind had let up some and he said yes, that it had.
1976 January 28, 1976 Friday
Tired, No Energy
I have been feeling very fatigued and sleepy lately...almost as if I'd been busy drugged; I just couldn't get enough sleep and rest. Kent's noticed it too and we've been quite concerned. Is it a virus? Anemia? It came on gradually a week ago Saturday. I slept all afternoon, went to bed early and slept late - telling Kent to tend Chad. I prayed fervently during the night that the Lord would bless and heal me to I could tend to my duties as wife, mother and laurel adviser. Sunday morning I awoke feeling much better and it seemed to have passed. Then Wednesday it seemed to come on again. I slept 11 hours that night and took a nap Thursday. I was very concerned because I felt terrible - like a black cloud was sitting on my chest and enveloping my mind in a cloud of despair and depression. And even more concerned because Kent told me that morning that the Stake President wanted to see him next that evening at 7 pm - and we. Both knew it was to call Kent to be Elder's Quorum President here in the Panorama City Ward, Van Nuys Stake. I feared that I may have mononucleosis and didn't know how I could physically support my husband in this call while he went to school as well in the evenings to get his Master's from Cal State Northridge. At the same time tend Chad, keep the house running smoothly and be Laurel adviser while being sick too. It seemed impossible. It seemed I would have to be released from my job as a laurel adviser.
My mother had intimated that I should seed a release under these conditions - and it did seem hard to make my meetings in the evening, I had to admit. But I knew I had been called by the Lord to this position. I loved my job and the girls. I was feeling success, a great rapport with the girls and the guidance of the Lord. I knew that the lord was in control and if he had called me to my position and Kent to his. He would provide a way for us to fulfill both. He knows better than anyone our circumstances, demand on time and capabilities. I felt that if I had faith in the lord, he would heal me. I read in Doctrine and Covenants Section 42 v 43 "And whosoever among you are sick and have not faith to be healed..." I knew it was possible to have the faith to be healed. I began by fervently to pray and ask the Lord to heal me. Help me to be able to fulfill my duties and assignments, responsibilities, It began to seem that with metal and spiritual exertion I could push this tired feeling into the background of my consciousness. I began vacuuming, ironing , cleaning up around the house and as time went one I felt more and more perky. By the time Kent came out of the Stake president's office I felt normal. After I came home from my Stake MIA meeting, tended Chad and talked with Kent I went to sleep about 11 pm. I got up at 3am with Chad for about 1/2 hour and then slept until 7 am but didn't feel the need to sleep longer, in fact could have slept less. I haven't felt this way in weeks. Today I felt energetic enough to carry out my household duties cheerfully and on schedule. I took an hour and 15 minute nap while Chad slept, to be sure I did not over tax my strength. Perhaps I will need to do this for a while. I attribute the dramatic change in how I feel to the power of the Lord and my faith in him.
In thinking about the power of faith, I recalled an incident that happened when IU was maybe 12 years old and my family and I were traveling through Southern Utah on our way home from conference. We were traveling inj our motor home (Corvail engine, beige color, homemade) and there was a strong wind blowing against one corner of the rig, making it difficult for my dad to drive. I lay on the bed in back and prayed that the Lord would lessen the force of the wind to make it easier for my dad. Later I asked my dad if the wind had let up some and he said yes, that it had.
1976 April
Dear Grandma and Grandpa Breitin,
Dear Grandma and Grandpa Breitin,
We'd like to have you over again soon -
perhaps when the baby is blessed you can come and see it, go to church with us
and have lunch.
We'll see. How are you both? Thank you so much Grandma for the dresses, baby afghan's (their're all so pretty!) and little baby suit. I am sorry I did not get to see you that day you came out to the folks.
I am feeling fine and a little large and slightly uncomfortable but I'll make it. Daddy says the baby will be a girl - he may be prejudiced so that would make it the first granddaughter and your first great granddaughter. (Seems incredible how time flies)
I get so many compliments on the dresses - one lady in our ward liked the long natural one with embroidery so much she made herself one out of a print material. Love you both, Suzanne
1976 May 8
Chad's Birth
Suzanne: Chad was due on Mother's day, May 9,
1976. The Friday night before his due date Kent and I went to a
friend's wedding reception. I made a pig of myself on the
refreshments and joked about him "making camp' in my tummy. We
came home early and watched Maureen Stapleton in "Belle of the Stardust
Ball", then cuddled to sleep in bed until 2am. I awoke to a
"pop", not unlike a fetus' single hiccough. I got up to go
to the bathroom and couldn't get off the toilet. A slow dribble of
water trickled down my legs. The realization that this was the
onslaught of labor sent little electric thrills through my body. I
wrapped a blue and gold hand towel between my legs and eased back into bed to
try and get some more sleep. The waves of gentle contractions
rolling from the small of my back towards my pelvic bone every ten minutes
re-electrified me each time until I was wide awake em with calm
anticipation. I decided to clean up my room so my mother and
mother-in-law wouldn't discover my "file system" stacked in
disorderly piles beside the bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed and
shuffling through papers, I inadvertently awoke Kent, who sprung out of bed
like a frightened cat when I told him yes, I was in labor. I told
him to go back to sleep, it would be hours before we'd even need to go to the
hospital. (Labor with first babies averages close to twenty
hours.) He said he couldn't, that he was too nervous. He
chattered excitedly, paced the floor, pulled on his clothes, and then ran out
to find a gas station open near Ocean park and Lincoln Blvd in Santa Monica at
3am. Every time I moved it felt as though all my insides from my
diaphragm down were rolling over a bumpy road. I took me half an
hour just to get dressed. I knew I'd never make it through cleaning
the bedroom or fixing Kent's lunch. When he returned with the car, a
teak blue MGB, I told him he'd better pull some frozen sandwiches out of the
freezer. He said that he was so excited and nervous he wouldn't be
able to eat. He said that he felt like vomiting. He
called my dad to ask him what we should do; the contractions were five minutes
apart, and our hospital, in San Gabriel, was forty minutes away. My
dad sleepily told us to go on over to the hospital and let the nurses check
me...we could always go over to my parent's house if I "wasn't doing
anything much".
It was about 3:45 am when we finally pulled
ourselves together, ready to leave. Thoughtful Kent had parked the
car at the end of the block and across the street from our white, black trimmed
apartment building. I panted my way down each step of the flight of
stairs from our second story apartment, pausing frequently, and remembered
wryly how my neighbor had chuckled when she told me that she had thought she
could just waltz into the hospital right before deliver. Now I
understood why she had laughed hard. I could hardly walk, let alone waltz, and
I was barely into first stage labor. I heaved heavily against a
lighted street lamp while Kent yelled at me and rearranged bags under the MG's
back latch. A passing motorist hung his head out the window and
gawked with unabashed curiosity. I chuckled out loud as I imagined
the hilarity that this situation must appear to others. Our little
sports car hugged the road and I felt every bump, every rock, every indentation
and chuckhole. Every gearshift ground my spine, every jolt
reverberated throughout my system. I put my hands, palms down on the leather
seat, under my thighs to act as shock absorbers. Studiously
practicing my controlled breathing and effleurage (abdominal massage), I focused
on the license plate of the car ahead and counted the minutes.
At the Hospital
When I was in labor Kent had found an early
morning Laurel and Hardy movie on television. He had yucked it up
and then, exhausted by all the excitement and lack of sleep, had curled behind
me on the same narrow twin bed and fallen asleep. He only roused
himself when I yelled "rub my back!" with a lazy massaging motion of
his left hand. At any other time I could have found him amusing, but
at that time I fumed at his seeming insensitivity to my ordeal. My
dad showed up "just to see how I was doing" and I delivered
forty-five minutes later.
Suzanne: May 10, 1976, Monday May 3 I felt
some pre-labor contractions while resting in the early hours of the morning.
That afternoon my Dad said after he examined me that the baby could come that
week, he was ready. Tuesday night Relief Society tied off a quilt for the baby.
Thursday I began to feel a certain urgency to put everything in order and I was
glad I was packed and had some casseroles, beans and stew frozen, and my
bags packed.
Friday Kent and I went to Drake Fuller's
reception (son of Bill and Arla Hickman) and Arla asked if the baby was due in
about a month. I laughed and said, "no, this Sunday (May 9th), Mother's
Day. But I think he's decided to camp awhile." (I could feel him up under
my right side).
That night Kent and I stayed up until 11
watching a movie. About 2 am I awoke and felt a “pop”. It was much like a baby
hiccupping inside the mother's womb only stronger. I knew instantly that my
"bag of waters" (amniotic sac surrounding the baby) had broken. I got
up to go to the bathroom and felt the mucous plug (jelly-like protective
substance stopping up the opening of the cervix) drop and I began leaking. I
wrapped a towel around me and went back to bed thinking labor could start
anytime in 24 hour and it will probably be 1214 hours after it starts before
the baby comes....So, I can get some more sleep. I checked my watch and it was
2:10 am. I went back to bed and tried to relax but I was a little too excited.
Then the contractions started coming about 5 minutes apart. I was wide-awake.
Still thinking I had lots of time I began to rummage through my file papers and
pick up the room a bit so it would be semi-orderly when I came home and my
mother came out to help.
Kent heard me and asked quickly "Are you
in labor yet?" I told him what had happened and he immediately came to
life. I tried to persuade him to rest but he said, "I'm too excited! How
can a guy sleep when his wife's about to have a baby?" A few minutes later
when I was back in the bathroom (for more towels) Kent knocked on the door and
said he was going to go get gas in the car. I suggested he wait until we were
on the way to the hospital but he said he wanted to go now. He was obviously
very excited. I went in and began to finish packing and think of all the little
things I wanted to do to get ready to leave and I discovered how HARD it was to
MOVE. Every time I did I felt like I was having a contraction. It was all I
could do to get dressed. Kent was back and gathered up the things I needed and
made his lunch. I called my dad about 3:30 and told him what was happening.
Contractions were coming 2 1/2 to 5 minutes apart and lasting between 4575
seconds. He said for us to head over to the hospital and let the nurses check
me.
It took forever for me to get out to the car.
I had to stop with every contraction, and every step felt like one. I stopped
by the street sign out at the corner in front to rest and a fellow drove by and
looked at me (so obviously pregnant) and Kent packing suitcase and bags in the
car and probably had himself a good chuckle as he realized what we were doing.
The ride to the hospital was less than comfortable as I felt every bump and
gear shift and stop in that little MG sports car. I tried a combination pant
blow and slow breathing to help me stay on top of the contractions.
We arrived at 4:30 am. The nurse wheeled me in
to the labor room to check me. I was 2 cm and the contractions were about 3
minutes apart. At 4:45 she called dad and then moved me to the single labor
room. I vomited and she gave me prep. They finally let Kent in at 5 :30. Poor
guy was ready to go out of his mind. They’d kept him in the waiting room the
last hour filling out forms. The receptionist (who was very slow) then typed
them up. All the while this horrible late movie was on where this girl was
being chased around in a castle dungeon by monks and mad man, and she'd scream.
Kent had to endure all this while envisioning me having the baby without him.
Finally he turned the TV off shortly before they came and got him.
The nurse checked me again about 6:30 and I
was not quite 3 cm. I used the clock for a focal point found that by
taking each contraction one at a time and telling myself "only 20 seconds
more and the peak will be over" I could handle the discomfort. When I was
on my back the contractions were less hard but my back ached awfully. When I
was on my side, the contractions came harder, longer, but then I could have
Kent rub my back. Kent was tired. He watched a Laurel and Hardy movie until
6am. But when that was over he tried snoozing in a chair or on the twin bed
beside me. He'd arouse enough to sort of move his hand around half-heartedly
when I'd shout out "rub!.....HARDER!" (Next time we'll have to
condition him to respond in his sleep.) He was so tired but I was having
increasingly harder labor and it helped immeasurably for him to apply pressure.
At 8:00 when the nurse checked me I was almost
4 centimeters. I expected the next stage of labor to take several hours and was
trying not to pull out all stops just yet, but it was hard to stay in control
and I didn't know how much longer I could go on. About 8:30 Kent 'roused
himself and sat on the bed with his back to the wall. Sensing my
uncomfortable-ness and fatigue, prayed and asked the Lord to speed things along
for me . At 9:00 my dad came and checked me and I was already 8 cm. dilated and
was beginning to feel the urge to push. I was chilled a little too as I was
entering the final stages of labor. I was surprised and relieved. I could now
go into my pant-blow breathing. Kent went out to the car to get his consecrated
oil and at 915, my Dad sealed the anointing and Kent gave me a blessing. He
blessed me that I would enjoy the experience. He said (later) he felt an
outpouring of the spirit as he gave it to me. I recalled my patriarchal
blessing in which the Lord promised me great joy with the first child and with
every child I bear. I took comfort and faith from that blessing and knew I
could stay in control.
Close to 9:30 they wheeled me into the
delivery room and when I was on the table I began to push with the
contractions. It was hard work but I didn't want any anesthetic. At 9:45, my
dad pulled out a beautiful big baby boy. He came quickly, with a great gush of
water. I barely saw what was happening as I was concentrating so hard on
pushing. I was surprised it was a boy; it seemed so strange to suddenly have a
baby and not be pregnant any more. They laid him across my stomach and I looked
at little Chad Aaron all 8 lbs 11 oz, 21 inches in disbelief. I remember
thinking it was worth all the discomfort and agony I'd go through that whole
experience all over again, just to have this precious little one.
Kent says that while dad (now Grandpa) was
holding him up and sucking the mucous out of his lungs it seemed forever until
he began crying and breathing. I remember he was all purple with white stuff on
him. Then he gave a weak cry and turned pink. His apgar score was 9 out of a
possible 10. I began to shiver and shake uncontrollably while dad sewed me up
and the nurse cleaned Chad. When Chad and I were finally bundled up warm, he
was given back to me to hold. As I did I was filled with joy and the Holy Ghost
as I held my perfect little son. Kent and I wept, and I still weep as I recall
that special moment. Chad was born in the same room (in San Gabriel Hospital)
by the same doctor (Grandpa Brown) that I was 21 years previously. I
got tucked in bed and Kent wrote down his impressions of that experience. He
kissed me goodbye, went to take more pictures of Chad in the nursery (he took
some a few minutes after birth), and went over my folks' place to sleep for a
couple of hours before coming back to see me. I drifted off into a peaceful,
blissful sleep. Grandma and Grandpa Gardiner and Gayle G. Reese, Mark and Karen
Gardiner visited me as well as my mother and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa Brown. I
was on such a "natural high" I couldn't sleep Saturday night. Cathy
Carlson, my former M I A president was my roommate. She was in the hospital to
have her seventh child (my dad delivered a 9 lb 11 oz boy Curtis) She and I
enjoyed each other's company.
Dr. Novak came to see me a moment. He said Dad
told every one in the hospital staff that I had a near perfect first delivery.
Sunday he went around saying he completely underestimated the day before. He
told everyone they could tell which baby was his grandson in the nursery he was
the one with a halo over his head. My dad said to me "sons and daughters
are both nice to have......it's special to have your first child, but if you
want to know what a real thrill is wait till your child has their first
one."
Monday after lunch Kent came to pick Chad and
me up. He seemed so fragile, we were afraid to even breath on him. We kept the
windows up the whole drive home even though it was sweltering. As we neared
home Kent began to croon a love song to me. We heard a wail out of Chad just as
Kent held a sour note. We laughed and looked down at him and he was back to
sleep. Chad slept all the way home and then most of the day.
Suzanne's Impressions Upon Motherhood
Suzanne: Today is the 14th of May, Chad is 6
days old. He truly is a joy, a precious, perfect baby, and Kent and I love him
very much. Today he smiled a few times. I love to watch Kent with him. He is so
gentle and tender...kisses him, talks to him, plays with him, loves to carry
him around, put him to sleep on Kent's tummy, burp him, change him. Chad is a
very loved baby. I wonder if that is why he is so very placid and easy to care
for.
Kent picked out the name Chad. Said he's
thought about naming his first son that so much he couldn't imagine naming him
otherwise. He is a proud father. Reminds me of when we were dating. One night
he came over for family home evening and we went up to a wildlife park for a
picnic. Janna was visiting with her son Ben. As I watched Kent carry Ben
around, talk and play with him so tenderly, I knew I wanted him to be the
father of my children.
Chad is the first and oldest Gardiner grandson
who will carry on the name Gardiner in the Gardiner family, and the firstborn
grandson under the covenant in his Grandpa Gardiner's family. My dad will have
to wait for a little granddaughter. (As yet there are no granddaughters in the
Brown side.) The Lord has truly blessed me with great men in my life who honor
their priesthood. It is fitting I should be blessed with a son who can carry on
this great heritage.
The Lord has truly blessed me. When I was
about 3 months pregnant and sick with morning sickness, I asked Kent to give me
a blessing. I was so concerned that the baby grow healthy and strong and whole
of spirit mind, and body. (I prayed continually Forth is throughout my
pregnancy). Kent invited Brother Tooley, a faithful, kind older man, to help
administer to me. Kent said later that as he gave the blessing and said that
the child would be born whole and healthy he felt an outpouring of the spirit
that confirmed it to him that this was right). It was very sacred and
afterwards Brother Tooley assured me he new everything would be all right.
One day as I was feeling physically blue and
achy, I lay in bed and wept and begged the Lord to bless my unborn child. It
amazed me how much love was welling up in my heart for this little guy. I
realized how the Lord changes people gives them the gift of love, teaches them
through the spirit, softens and mellows them. What a different girl I was now
from when I was in high school. Throughout my pregnancy I worked in the temple
and I often thought what a special baby this will be. I'm going to give him to
the Lord, and in turn I know He will let me have him for eternity. It seemed
could feel him move those early 6 months of the 2nd trimester in special sacred
moments in the temple, or when I was with Kent. I prayed for an easy, anterior
delivery that I could stay in control of with no undue misery or pain, and the
Lord blessed me.
We have praying to save money for a home and
we have been receiving quite a bit of money from different sources, and one
unexpected break was that our insurance company paid all but $150.00 of our
hospital bill. And of course my dad didn't charge us (we didn't think that we
had our insurance long enough to pay for the bill). I realized the blessing in
my patriarchal blessing and know joy and love for my son. I feel my testimony
has grown,
and have seen the fulfillment of the verse in
3 Nephi 18:21"And whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name which is
right, believing ye shall receive, behold it shall be given to you." We
are indebted to the Lord.
Kent brought me a poem by Carol Lyn Pearson
called "Investment". As she describes the birth of her child and says
that which is easily got is soon forgot but that which is dearly paid for is
dearly kept. I now understand what the Lord meant when He spoke to Adam and
Eve. He was telling them lovingly, kindly, what the consequences of their
action (partaking of the fruit) were, and telling them the blessings that would
come from opposition. Just as locomotion needs friction for movement, and
muscles need work for growth.
When Chad was only 2 weeks old he began to
smile not in response to something I or Kent did, but when he "saw an
angel" dropping off to sleep on a full tummy. He is so very precious, a
joy to care for. I lay awake one night talking with the Lord and pleading with
him to bless my dear son with health, strength, protection and righteousness,
and to have compassion on his parents and teach us how to care for him. I cried
in my earnestness. As I drew near to my Father in spirit, I was struck with the
realization that he was Heavenly Father's son first and that He loved little
Chad more than I possibly could in this earth life. If I gave Chad to Him in
this life, He would let me have him for an eternity. I was overwhelmed as I
pondered how the Father could let his Firstborn Son suffer, atone and die for
the world. He did it I know because he loved His Son. I guess there will be
times when I shall have to watch Chad suffer as he grows through life. I hope I
can have the strength to bear it.
When Chad was 4 1/2 weeks old I took him to
M.I.A. with me and shared the experience of his birth with the young girls. I
told them how joyous it was to be a copartner with God, how the lord had
blessed me and that it was worth far more than the pain of giving birth.
Chad's Blessing
Mom:
July 4, 1976, Today is a very special day...not only because
it is the bicentennial celebration of our
country, but also because today Chad was blessed in Fast and Testimony Meeting.
We had spent all week fixing up the apartment and our new car ('74 Plymouth
valiant) for the event. We didn't have time to paint the car, but we cleaned up
the interior, and redid our stereo speakers, bought a tablecloth, recovered our
food storage with rosewood Formica and did some other interior decorating,
including a good clean all over the place. I must say we were quite proud of
our humble little apartment on Hill Street in Santa Monica by the time we were
done. We had just finished canning 28 quarts of apricots and made 21 cups of
jam. While I was cleaning, I became quite frustrated because Chad was eating so
frequently and taking some time. Then I realized how disordered my priorities
were. Here I was getting things ready for an event in honor of HIM and I was
frustrated when he needed some attention.
I got up early Sunday morning to put finishing
touches on everything and get ready. Just as we were ready to go Chad's plastic
pants leaked and Chad's cute little outfit and booties got messy, my outfit got
all messy, and Kent got messy carrying Chad in to cleanup. It was a bright
yellow, mustard colored, mess on everything. Kent picked out for him a blue and
green striped stretch suit he likes, that Chad's grandma Brown bought for him.
She says that it looks like prison garb.
A quick change later we snuck into church a
bit late. It was the bicentennial program, which was a lovely short history in
narration and song about this great land's history. Kent had told everyone in
our families that Fast and Testimony meeting started at 10:30. Unfortunately
the Sunday School Program ended at 10:05. Kent explained the situation to the
bishopric and Craig Yeates, the first counselor conducting called on Bishop
Schiess to speak. He wasn't supposed so speak till later, but fortunately he
obligingly took about 20 minutes until our families got here.
Those Kent asked to stand in the circle were:
James Gardiner, grandfather
James Brown, grandfather
Mark Gardiner, uncle
John Reese, uncle
Tim Hester, home teacher
Bishop Schiess
Rajesh Sewak, executive clerk
Some of the things Kent blessed him.
He would know right from wrong.
He'd feel whisperings of the Spirit.
He'd follow the path set for him.
He'd take comfort in the counsel of the
leaders of the church
and seek it.
He'd honor the priesthood.
Kent said he felt filled with the Spirit of
the Lord and that it confirmed what he said. When Kent held him up he smiled at
everyone and they laughed. Our hoe teacher and my dad both insisted Chad was
looking at THEM during the blessing.
The bearing of testimonies was choice many
people natives of different lands bearing thanks to the Lord for their
blessings, this nation, the church, and especially Joseph Smith. My father bore
his testimony said he appreciated the spirit that was present. He said that he
had the great privilege of being Suzanne Gardiner's father, and what an honor
that was, and how grateful he was to the Gardiners for raising a son worthy of
his daughter. Then he admitted that he knew he was clearly prejudiced. He was
very proud of Kent, however. He thanked the ward for taking us in. He bore his
testimony to the truthfulness of the gospel, then said how much he loved his
children and wanted them to know ho much he loved their mother. Kent also bore
his testimony to the truthfulness of the gospel and church; and told what an
honor it was to be Chad's father and hold the priesthood.
Afterwards both families including Kent's
uncle Frank and a date and our home teacher and his wife came to the apartment
for a buffet luncheon. It was lovely...had sandwiches, salad, and home made
strawberry ice cream. That evening Kent, Chad and I drove around and looked at
fireworks.
Kent picked out the name Chad's a name he's
always liked and wanted to name his first son. Since he's the patriarch and
father, I let him choose the first name and I chose the second one Aaron. I
picked a name from the scriptures because I want my son to learn to love the
scriptures and word of the Lord and to identify with them. May he be a great
missionary and teacher of the gospel like Aaron, the son of King Mosiah, and a
spokesman for the Lord, speaking the words of the prophet like Aaron, the
brother of Moses. And may he become the son of Moses and Aaron, the seed of
Abraham, as he honors his priesthood. From Chad I hope he thinks of Chastity
and Charity, and his English heritage.
I hope dear little Chad and our other precious
unborn children will be charitable with Kent and I as we bungle and grow in
parenthood. Chad, like all babies, looks towards light. I often
wonder if it's because they just came from a place of Light. Sometimes I
whisper in his ear and ask him if he's looking for his Heavenly Father. He
smiles and gurgles, coos and even squeals. He looks right at you and tries to
coo and talk. When he smiles, he has dimples.
1977 September 17
Jeff Home From Mission
Today Kent's brother Jeff came home from his mission. It was a joyful reunion with all the Gardiners, Kent’s brothers and sisters getting together. There are few greater blessings than that of a righteous family. I hope and pray that all my children will feel that way about their family - nothing would give me greater joy in this life.
On the way home from Kent's folks Chad 16 1/2 months Picked up a book and said 'doggy." It was the first coherent and understandable pronouncation of a word we he heard. He has been trying to talk for no tights. At 9 months the saw a cat and heard ne say the word. He said the short a sound three times. Cat without the consonants. Lately when he sees a cat kitty cat or kitty. Kitty he says "tee tee tee tee."
And tonight when I put him inb bed and said 'Good Night' I love you.' As I always do he said "Goo aye" sounding like good night and as I turned to look back he rolled over and looked at me band said 'I ugh oo" Sounding like I love you.' He has probably been trying to talk for weeks and we haven't been aware of it.
He is so darling...so very very precious. I love him so much it hurts. And he is a hoy. A very affection be child, he comes to me for kisses and loves and hugs. Likes to be held and sung to or have books read to him. When he sees me after II've been away he smiles big and hugs me so tight. Huge a very happy, good natured child - laughs and talks to himself my, rubs through the house. This favorite toys are this penny's catalog "Chad's book" a spare telephone and this discovered the dirt. The plays in it by the porch get sitting in It with a spoon and blow,land is soon covered Fromm head to toe. The tries to help me with everything I do, especially hanging clothes 9he pulls them down or takes them out of the bucket and throws them in the dirt.
Today Kent's brother Jeff came home from his mission. It was a joyful reunion with all the Gardiners, Kent’s brothers and sisters getting together. There are few greater blessings than that of a righteous family. I hope and pray that all my children will feel that way about their family - nothing would give me greater joy in this life.
On the way home from Kent's folks Chad 16 1/2 months Picked up a book and said 'doggy." It was the first coherent and understandable pronouncation of a word we he heard. He has been trying to talk for no tights. At 9 months the saw a cat and heard ne say the word. He said the short a sound three times. Cat without the consonants. Lately when he sees a cat kitty cat or kitty. Kitty he says "tee tee tee tee."
And tonight when I put him inb bed and said 'Good Night' I love you.' As I always do he said "Goo aye" sounding like good night and as I turned to look back he rolled over and looked at me band said 'I ugh oo" Sounding like I love you.' He has probably been trying to talk for weeks and we haven't been aware of it.
He is so darling...so very very precious. I love him so much it hurts. And he is a hoy. A very affection be child, he comes to me for kisses and loves and hugs. Likes to be held and sung to or have books read to him. When he sees me after II've been away he smiles big and hugs me so tight. Huge a very happy, good natured child - laughs and talks to himself my, rubs through the house. This favorite toys are this penny's catalog "Chad's book" a spare telephone and this discovered the dirt. The plays in it by the porch get sitting in It with a spoon and blow,land is soon covered Fromm head to toe. The tries to help me with everything I do, especially hanging clothes 9he pulls them down or takes them out of the bucket and throws them in the dirt.
1977 August 10
Spirit World
This evening as I was reading "Life
Everlasting" by Duane Crowther I reflected on the closeness of the spirit
world to this one. I felt a sweet spirit that had lingered since I had said my
son Chad's prayers (He's 15 months) and asked the Lord to watch over him.
I had the distinct impression that were I to tiptoe into his room and if the
Lord permitted, I could see angels hovering over his crib watching.
Once when I was about 12 or so and was doing something I knew by revelation to be wrong, I felt as though Farmer Brown (my great grandfather) were watching and was displeased. I soon stopped what I was doing. 1.5 years ago while working in the temple I had the pleasure of welcoming a youthful companion to the temple who was to be married. This friend had strayed from the teachings of the church and I had prayed very strongly that he would repent and be worthy of a temple marriage. I felt an overwhelmingly powerful spirit in my heart as I distinctly thought "This experience today is a direct result and answer to my many prayers in this individual's behalf. "I felt the closeness of the Spirit World to this one, and very keenly the fact that what we do in this mortal existence has a direct effect on the spiritual world....that our prayers are all heard and answered and we should not take them lightly or pray for trifling matters or play amiss. In the moment it seemed the temple was full of angels and were my spiritual opened I would see throngs of them all about me. The burning on my heart was powerful in confirmation that tears came to my eyes. and a lump in my throat, and I could not speak.
At that time I worked in a small room in the back of the temple (facing west) near to the chapel of the Los Angeles temple. I answered the phones and typed and was all alone when this experience happened.
Some months ago while at my sister in laws or parents in laws house w were discussing death and the fact that messengers and deceased relatives come for you when it's time to go into the next life. I thought when and since then many times and feel very strongly that when I die I want my father to come and get me. I am recording this in my journal as I feel certain it will happen. My father is about 60 at the time of this writing, is in good health and serves as the Patriarch in El Monte Stake. He and I have a special kinship, between us. He is dearer to me than any earthly person. I feel certain that I knew and loved him in the pre-existence and chose him for my earthly parent.
1977 August 24
Card
Sweetheart-
Sorry about the terrible card. Everyone was
waiting for me and this morning while I bought film so I just grabbed the
nearest card. This is sort of "typical" of these Arizona Cowboys
though.
I'm writing this sitting on a rocker by an old oak chest in the upstairs bedroom of my great grandmother's house. What a place! I got some pictures - went over to talk with and tape Francis Blaylock Jones, a niece in law of my great grandfather. Tomorrow I'll talk with ant tape my great uncle Will - the only living of all his seventeen brothers and sisters, and a few addresses to write to Esther has been great. She doesn't know mkuch but she knows who does and goes out and gets the information for us. (She took us to Mexican dinner tonight (I had beef "Chimichangs")
I found jout my great grandfather had a twin sister - Samantha and his father had 2 wives, 2 families (I assume 1st she died and he remarried?) Much of this information I got from mom who dug it out after "encouragement"j from me. This is all hearsay and memory but it's more than I had before.
Even If I don't gather up all I wanted to at least I will have found out as much as possible who living around here has information. I feel this trip has been an inspiration and blessing. I love and miss you and Chad. Give Chad my love and kisses. Does he miss me?
Loving you tenderly
Suzanne Gardiner
1977
1977
A Little Tiff
I remember on our way to the Ballet that Kent and I got into a tiff. Probably because we were tired out from going all the time on so little sleep. I was eating some carrots and he got really annoyed with me for eating them so noisily, and my feelings were hurt.
We tried to say our prayers every day and attend to our church responsibilities, and do what was right, but the reality of every day married life to one so emotionally immature and ill prepared as I was put me into a state of cultural shock. Our little apartment, which had nothing but a bed and a stereo, was quite depressing during the day with Kent gone. We had hardly any lamps and the homemade curtains over the windows made it so dark inside. I remember sitting with my hands folded hardly able to do anything in the way of work or recreation. I could barely cook, and we had few utensils. I burned our first meal of potatoes and chicken. We took some of our wedding presents back to the stores in exchange for money or other items we needed like pots and pans. Kent got an old wooden spool that we covered with a tablecloth to eat on and we sat on stools. On Sundays Kent lay around in his garments on an old green vinyl swaybacked sofa that was given to us and wanted to watch TV all day--not at all like my dad whom I rarely saw out of a suit his whole life. I remember being afraid to call home for fear I would cry if I heard my daddy's voice or become defensive if I heard my mother's.
We stayed in the one-bedroom "hole" apartment on Oak Street a couple of months, and then moved to a wonderful airy upstairs two-bedroom apartment on Hill Street just a few blocks from the beach and the chapel. It was owned and managed by Goldie Schiess and his wife. He was on the high council and later became our bishop. Most of the people he rented to were LDS like ourselves, and we paid the same amount ($150.00 month) of rent for this delightful place as we did the previous one. The Schiess charged us much less than they could have if they wanted to. A mature couple in the ward (the Sergeant’s) gave us a refrigerator they didn't want any more.
1977, August 11
Family History
Today after lunch I was contemplating a nap, when I thought: "no, I really should write my Aunt Norma and my mother's aunt Esther to see what information they have on William Alfred Jones, my great grandfather. As I was copying down again for the umpteenth time his family group sheet with him as a child (what little information I had) I suddenly noticed for possible leads to follow that I had never thought of or noticed before - they were so obvious - such as William Alfred's birth certificate since I have a birth date on him. I have no record of a search made on that. It seems I have been knocking my head against the wall, stewing about what information I didn't have instead of trying to go on what I did. I am so excited....I can hardly wait to get to the Genealogical Library to research those leads. I hope to find enough names that I can involve all of my family members (mom, aunt, sisters, brothers) in the ordinance work. Then I can share the blessings and rewards. I just know that there are anxious spirits waiting to have this work done for them. I pray that I maybe led to their records and that the way may be opened up for me. As I marveled over all this the thought occurred to me how much time I waste on unimportant, peripheral matters which are unfulfilling ultimately. But when I start doing the priority - heart of the matter projects, - oh the inspiration, fulfillment, and reward! I had been thinking the last couple of days :if I only had a short time to live, would I do anything differently than I am doing now. I thought no, I'd do the same things, but I;'d engage more effort into genealogy and my personal history for my posterity. Those were the things that really mattered; yet. I have been neglecting them and doing everything else. Since I have begun doing those things instead of watching TV etc, I have felt an excitement a greater zest for living and the spirit of the Lord in my everyday activities and actions. I am not only more pleasant to be around, but enjoy my family more and feel peace and harmony in my heart and home. More diligent daily scripture study has greatly helped, too, I know.
Yesterday Kent and I discussed our financial situation. We have lived in our house less than a year and have barely made ends meet each month, pay less than 10% budget (Bishop's advice) pay a full tithe and doubled fast offering's, yet we have $4000 dollars in the savings account. Granted, Kent's inheritance ($2000 dollars from Grandpa Scholl) and Summer School earnings have helped. But we've spend $11000 on two MGA's. I can only attribute this to the Lord's bounteous goodness and blessings. I pray he may bless us with inspiration and wisdom in planning it';s use for our future family needs.
I remember on our way to the Ballet that Kent and I got into a tiff. Probably because we were tired out from going all the time on so little sleep. I was eating some carrots and he got really annoyed with me for eating them so noisily, and my feelings were hurt.
We tried to say our prayers every day and attend to our church responsibilities, and do what was right, but the reality of every day married life to one so emotionally immature and ill prepared as I was put me into a state of cultural shock. Our little apartment, which had nothing but a bed and a stereo, was quite depressing during the day with Kent gone. We had hardly any lamps and the homemade curtains over the windows made it so dark inside. I remember sitting with my hands folded hardly able to do anything in the way of work or recreation. I could barely cook, and we had few utensils. I burned our first meal of potatoes and chicken. We took some of our wedding presents back to the stores in exchange for money or other items we needed like pots and pans. Kent got an old wooden spool that we covered with a tablecloth to eat on and we sat on stools. On Sundays Kent lay around in his garments on an old green vinyl swaybacked sofa that was given to us and wanted to watch TV all day--not at all like my dad whom I rarely saw out of a suit his whole life. I remember being afraid to call home for fear I would cry if I heard my daddy's voice or become defensive if I heard my mother's.
We stayed in the one-bedroom "hole" apartment on Oak Street a couple of months, and then moved to a wonderful airy upstairs two-bedroom apartment on Hill Street just a few blocks from the beach and the chapel. It was owned and managed by Goldie Schiess and his wife. He was on the high council and later became our bishop. Most of the people he rented to were LDS like ourselves, and we paid the same amount ($150.00 month) of rent for this delightful place as we did the previous one. The Schiess charged us much less than they could have if they wanted to. A mature couple in the ward (the Sergeant’s) gave us a refrigerator they didn't want any more.
1977, August 11
Family History
Today after lunch I was contemplating a nap, when I thought: "no, I really should write my Aunt Norma and my mother's aunt Esther to see what information they have on William Alfred Jones, my great grandfather. As I was copying down again for the umpteenth time his family group sheet with him as a child (what little information I had) I suddenly noticed for possible leads to follow that I had never thought of or noticed before - they were so obvious - such as William Alfred's birth certificate since I have a birth date on him. I have no record of a search made on that. It seems I have been knocking my head against the wall, stewing about what information I didn't have instead of trying to go on what I did. I am so excited....I can hardly wait to get to the Genealogical Library to research those leads. I hope to find enough names that I can involve all of my family members (mom, aunt, sisters, brothers) in the ordinance work. Then I can share the blessings and rewards. I just know that there are anxious spirits waiting to have this work done for them. I pray that I maybe led to their records and that the way may be opened up for me. As I marveled over all this the thought occurred to me how much time I waste on unimportant, peripheral matters which are unfulfilling ultimately. But when I start doing the priority - heart of the matter projects, - oh the inspiration, fulfillment, and reward! I had been thinking the last couple of days :if I only had a short time to live, would I do anything differently than I am doing now. I thought no, I'd do the same things, but I;'d engage more effort into genealogy and my personal history for my posterity. Those were the things that really mattered; yet. I have been neglecting them and doing everything else. Since I have begun doing those things instead of watching TV etc, I have felt an excitement a greater zest for living and the spirit of the Lord in my everyday activities and actions. I am not only more pleasant to be around, but enjoy my family more and feel peace and harmony in my heart and home. More diligent daily scripture study has greatly helped, too, I know.
Yesterday Kent and I discussed our financial situation. We have lived in our house less than a year and have barely made ends meet each month, pay less than 10% budget (Bishop's advice) pay a full tithe and doubled fast offering's, yet we have $4000 dollars in the savings account. Granted, Kent's inheritance ($2000 dollars from Grandpa Scholl) and Summer School earnings have helped. But we've spend $11000 on two MGA's. I can only attribute this to the Lord's bounteous goodness and blessings. I pray he may bless us with inspiration and wisdom in planning it';s use for our future family needs.
1978, January 22 , Written November 21, 1978
Rachel
is born. Birth of a Child
The loosely woven curtains to the right of my cherry wood sewing cabinet were fully drawn to let in as much light as possible this late afternoon, Tuesday, January 24, 1978. The ancient black motor, faintly resembling a giant mosquito, hovered motionless over the blue baby’s bubble suit that was beginning to take shape under my swift fingers from some leftover scraps of matching Christmas cardigans that I had made for my husband and son. In my private communication with eternity, I knew my unborn child was a girl whom I would name Rachel, “the beloved”. She would be my parent’s first granddaughter. Because my yearning for her was so deep souled, I outwardly pretended, even to myself, that this one would be another boy. I could not bear my “premonition" to be wrong, and I must confess that I tend to be a “doubting Thomas”.
I was ready for “him” to be born-had been ready for three weeks now. The bags were packed and waiting the large pink Samsonite suitcase filled with underwear, nightgowns, robe, and slippers for me to take to the hospital; a small, monogrammed, blue d-denim bag leaning next to it containing my “Lamaze kit”; a voluminous “Save-Our-Trees” muslin bag stuffed with diapers, toys, change of clothes, and a schedule for Chad I even had a list made out of things to grab at the last minute. It had been so long since I had gotten ready that I had had to use several of the “take-a-longs” several times over already.
I was two days overdue and I was tired of the waiting. Tired of the gawks people gave my bulking shape as I waddled around still! Tired of having my form-conscious vanity dampened by my tight, ballooning distention, my elephantine bulge, that kept me from wearing anything remotely chic. Tired of the pain in my lower abdomen, of muscles that angrily protested against this unaltered burden. Tired of the utter humiliation of vomiting after meals with such violence that the contents of my already squished bladder gushed warmly down my legs (and of having my one-and-a-half year old son imitate my actions. Tired of the terrible dark depression, wondering if the baby would be born whole or well, or even alive. Tired of the constant ache in the small of my back caused by my disproportioned posture, and the longing for the time when the small of my back would effortlessly hug the bed’s flat surface instead of arching painfully away. Tired of lying awake the first half of the night with heartburn; or worse, getting up at 2 a.m. to empty my punished bladder and lying awake the last half. And I was tired of sleeping on the couch because it was the only thing that gave in to my bulges and sags. I WAS READY FOR THIS BABY TO BE BORN!
San Gabriel Valley Hospital
I liked its moderate charges, too. We passed my dad’s out-dated, chief-of-staff picture on the corridor wall and passed again just inside the metal doors as another cramp rolled forth.
“There’s your father now. Hello, Dr. Brown. Do you want to check her now, or would you like me to?”
“Oh I will,” he said congenially. “Hi Precious, how are you?” His face crinkled up and he stooped to kiss my cheek. “Let’s get her settled.” I was wheeled into the bright, posie-papered labor room. My dad disappeared while I changed into the blue-checked hospital gown. I left my socks on; remembering how ice-cold my feet got last time during transition.
It seemed as natural for me to trust my dad now as it had when I was a little girl. He would always be “daddy” to me-a soft warm, mountain of complete understanding and unconditional love. I liked the way his soft brown eyes melted; into his heavy jowls when he smiled at me in his tender way of saying, “You’re precious to me”. He was the archetype of all fathers, the ultimate Christian man. When I was a little girl, often times in my prayers the difference between the earthly father and the Spiritual Father became confused. I seemed to know the one because of my relationship with the other. I felt they both had my best interests at heart, even if it meant hurting me a little.
I gulped and mentally pushed the curtains of my modesty and self-dignity aside. I, who had been a virgin until marriage and had known and would only know one man, found it terribly painful to be probed and displayed in such an ungraceful manner, but if I had to endure it, I would rather let my Marcus Welby mannered, clinical father poke me than any young and good-looking “Dr. Kildaire.” Once, I had to get a physical exam at Cedars-Sinai hospital because a government study program I was involved in required me to do so. The doctor was in his late twenties and had dark curly hair and deep blue eyes. I nearly died. I thought, I’ve dated and loved guys older than you do and I never let them do what you, a perfect stranger, are doing. It was terrible.
My dad came in the room and spoke quietly to the nurse while pulling on a second-skin-like glove. “I’m not doing very much,” I told him, “my bag of waters hasn’t broken yet.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll be as gentle as I can, honey.” I gritted my teeth and mentally blocked out all my inner feelings. ”Let’s see, that’s (probing) um m..(o-o-O-OW! I screamed.) Three centimeters,” he said coolly, ramming his hand up to my navel and withdrawing it warm and dripping. “I broke the Amniotic sac, “he casually said aside to the nurse. I gasped painfully and clutched the sides of the bed. “I’m sorry, honey,” he looked at me sheepishly. “This way it’ll get things moving a little faster. You don’t want to be here all night, do you? I shook my head, still in a state of shock. “Okay,” he squeezed my knee. “I’ll let the nurse prep you and send Kent in a little later.”
“Surprised you, huh? The little oriental nurse said shyly as she bustled about, arranging pads under me and gathering a razor and enema bag. I was still too shaken to mind the further indignity of the shave and enema treatment. Amniotic fluid oozed warmly out between my legs, wetting the bed linen and trickling across the floor as I trotted to the bathroom. When I came out Kent was waiting for me 9in a chair beside the bed, flipping thorough the T.V. channels. I recalled that when I was in labor with Chad he had found an early morning Laurel and Hardy movie on television. He bucked it up and then, exhausted by all the excitement and lack of sleep had curled behind me on the same narrow twin bed and fallen asleep. He only roused himself when I yelled, “rub my back!” with a lazy massaging motion of his left hand. At any other time I would have found him amusing, but at that time I fumed at his seeming insensitivity to my ordeal.
This time I made him leave the channel on a dull Fred MacMurray movie about a woman-president of the United States and all the problems her husband MacMurray had. The dialogue and action were so dry I had to really concentrate to comprehend any thing that made sense. And by now I needed the concentrated distraction. The contractions began rolling forward again forcefully and hard. I sucked on ice chips and began my second-phase breathing. “pant-pant-pant-pant-blow”, thinking to myself that child’s rhyme, “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can,” in rhythm with the breathing. I alternately focused my eyes on the clock (just 20 more seconds I can hang on for just 20 more seconds now 10 more) and Fred MacMurray’s mouth (What nonsense is he saying?) The contractions lasted 60 to 75 seconds and came every two to four minutes. They started in my lower back and moved up to my rib cage and then forward and down to my cervix. My round belly was so sore. I couldn’t stand anything touching it nor could I stand leaving it alone. I slid my fingertips along my side and moved them forward and down the contraction, sometimes with hand lotion, sometimes with ice water. My cervix cramped with a dull pain, like a charley horse, during every contraction, s. I gave in to each pain, mentally shouting: ”Open! O-o-op-en!” As if I could will it to dilate a centimeter each time. The vertebrae in the small of my back ground mercilessly and I cried for Kent to rub it harder. Rolling two tennis balls against my back with his palms and all his might, he helped relieve the pressure and made the pain tolerable. It was uncomfortable lying on my side. But even more uncomfortable on my back because I had no relief from the back labor.
I shifted my weight absently as an uncomfortable movement churned my bowels, and remembered the amusing events before my son Chad’s labor. He was due on Mother’s day, May 9, 1976. The Friday night before his due dates Kent and I went to a friends’ wedding reception. I made a pig of myself on the refreshments and joked about him “making camp” in my tummy. We came home early and watched Maureen Stapleton in “Belle of the Stardust Ball”, then cuddled to sleep in bed until 2 a.m. I awoke to a pop, not unlike a fetus’ single hiccough. I got up to go to the bathroom and couldn’t get off the toilet. A slow dribble of water trickled down my legs. The realization that this was the onslaught of labor sent little electric thrills through my body.
I wrapped a blue and gold hand towel between my legs and eased back into bed to try and get some more sleep. The waves of gentle contractions rolling from the small of my back towards my pelvic bone every tin minutes re-electrified me each time until I was wide-awake with calm anticipation. I decided to clean up my room so my mother and mother-in-law wouldn’t discover my “file system” stacked in disorderly piles beside the bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed and shuffling through papers, I inadvertently awoke Kent, who sprung out of bed like a frightened cat when I told him yes, I was in labor. I told him to go back to sleep that it would be hours before we’d even need to go to the hospital. (Labor with first babies averages close to twenty hours.” He said he couldn’t, that he was too nervous. He chattered excitedly, paced the floor, pulled on his clothes, and then ran out to find a gas station open near Ocean Park and Lincoln Blvd in Santa Monica at 3 a.m. Every time I moved it felt as though all my insides from my diaphragm down where roll over a bumpy road. I took my half an hour just to get dressed. I knew I’d never make it through cleaning the bedroom or fixing Kent’s lunch. When he returned with the car, a teak-blue MGB, I told him he’d better pull some frozen sandwiches out of the freezer. He said that he was so excited and nervous he wouldn’t be able to eat. He said that he felt like vomiting. He called my dad to ask him what we should do; the contractions were five minutes apart, and out hospital, in San Gabriel, was forty minutes away. My dad sleepily told us to go on over to the hospital and let the nurses check me, we could always go over to my parent’s house if I “wasn’t doing anything much”.
I braced my legs again and the present came sharply into focus as another pain churned inside my bulge under Kent’s “El Sleuth” sweatshirt. Could I be in labor? But my bag of waters hadn’t broken yet, nor had I lost my mucous plug. I had had Braxton-Hickson contractions before, but not this insistent or regular. I laid the sewing down and looked at my watch. It was nearly six o’clock time to get dinner on for Chad and Kent. Maybe if I moved around the contractions would go away. That was supposed to be the way you could tell real labor from false labor: in real labor the contractions get harder; in false labor, the contractions lessened or disappeared.
I hobbled into the kitchen, threw some hamburger on the fire, and began grating Mozzarella cheese with one eye on the clock. The strong turning-over sensation came every 10-15 minutes. Chad’s labor, from start to delivery had been only seven hours. Since successive labors are much, much less and since Panorama City is nearly as far from San Gabriel as Santa Monica, I was a bit concerned about getting to the hospital in time. No time for pizza, it’ll have to be pizza-burgers-eaten on the run. Kent scurried circles around me, throwing the sandwiches into brown paper bags, chucking all the gear into the brown Plymouth Valiant, calling the friends who were going to watch Chad, and calling my mom to make sure my dad would get the message and meet us at the hospital. I lived in fear of having the baby in the car. Or, almost as dreadful, not making connections with my father.
We pulled up to Bob and Judy Garcia’s house about 6:45 p.m. Chad recognized the house and began to giggle with eager anticipation. He bounded up the walk, darted through the partially open door, and be-lined right for the boys’ bedroom and toy box. Kent and I looked at each other and laughed, embarrassed, and my heart thrilled a note in my throat. It was hard to leave him, my soon-to-be-no-longer only child. I struggled awkwardly up the driveway to plant a kiss on his flushed, fair face. He beamed enthusiastically back, happy just to be with other children.
I made my way slowly back to the car, leaning heavily on Kent, and thought about hat first, wild early morning ride to the hospital. It was about 3:45 a.m. when we finally pulled ourselves together, ready to leave. Thoughtful Kent had parked the car at the end of the block and across the street from our white, black-trimmed apartment building. I panted my way down each step of the flight of stairs from our second-story apartment, pausing frequently, and remembered wryly how my neighbor had chuckles when she told me that she had thought she could just waltz into the hospital right before delivery. Now I understood why she had laughed so hard. I could hardly walk, let alone waltz, and I was barely into first-stage labor. I heaved heavily against a lighted street lamp while Kent yelled at me and rearranged bags under the MG’s back latch. A passing motorist hung his head out the window and gawked with unabashed curiosity. I chuckled out loud as I imagined the hilarity that his situation must appear to others. Our little sports car hugged the road and I felt every bump, every rock, every indentation and chuckhole. Every gearshift ground my spine; every jolt reverberated throughout my system. I put my hands, palms down on the leather seat, under my thighs to act as shock absorbers. Studiously practicing my controlled breathing and effleurage (abdominal massage), I focused on the license plate of the car ahead and counted the minutes.
The ride over to the hospital this second time was much easier. not just because this car rode smoother, but because the labor was much milder. This is a piece of cake, I thought. I don’t even have to think about distracting myself. The blurring lights along the lightly traveled Golden State Freeway had a fuzzy, dream-like quality about them. Everything seemed unread. It is strange how the mind detaches itself from the body during momentous occasions and looks on as an amazed and neutral observer. I felt my ego slip away from my id and hover slightly above and behind my head, noting with casual interest the various happenings. It didn’t seem possible that this could be happening to me that I (me!) was having my second child already. My ego’s self-identification will always be that of a young free spirit. It seemed that there were not two people riding along in that car sharing the same front seat, but three people: a pleasant-looking man not much past thirty, a mother-to-be in her early twenties, and an invisible, slim young girl, perhaps in her late teens.
Kent ran into the main entrance and came out with a wheelchair. They wheeled me into the dimly lit waiting-admittance area. The T.V. was on (I think it was a horror film—Dracula chasing a pretty young girl around a castle dungeon) and a few people lounged in the shadows. It was 7:30 p.m. While Kent parked the car, I filled out the admittance form and answered “Dr. J. Brown” to the receptionist’s query. “Good, he’s in already and waiting for you. We can take you back now.” I heaved a sigh of relief. Last time he showed up “just to see how (I) was doing”, and I delivered forty –five minutes later. I wanted no close calls this time. The nurse paused at my insistence as another contraction somersaulted forward and down my tightening belly. Then she began the long walk towards the double metal swinging doors in the outside middle curve of the “m”-shaped, one-story hospital. It was a small, old community hospital, with only an eighty-patient capacity. My dad said he liked to send his “special” patients here because of the slower pace and more personal attention they received here than at most other monstrous, prison/hotel like medical complexes. I and four of my five brothers and sisters were born in this same hospital some sixteen to twenty-three years earlier.
My dad checked on me briefly a little after 8:30 p.m. He patted my head gently and said, “It’s just a matter of putting in time, honey.” I couldn’t respond. I prayed for the time to go by faster and continued to will my cervix open with each successive contraction-that seemed more like one long, continuous contraction, with varying highs and lows, strengths and relaxation’s.
At 9:15 p.m. Kent pulled on a surgical suit while the nurse and my dad slid me into the same delivery room where I had been born twenty-three years earlier. “I feel like
My—back—is—going—to—break—in--two!” I whimpered as the nurse strapped my legs down in the stirrups.
“Oh dear, sounds like it’s posterior. That’s the way Johanna (my older sister) had Matthew. I’ll see if I can turn it around in a little bit.”
Kent lifted my shoulders with a pillow. I held my breath, gasped, and bore down as hard as I could, my face turning red and my ears popping, then lay back on the table weakly. “Tell me when the next contraction comes.” My dad sat on the stool at the end of the table. “Now! No, Yes, now! A-a-agh get your hand out of there! Stop!
I don’t care how the baby is born JUST GET YOUR HAND OUT1’
My dad smiled. “ I think I got it turned around Wait Ah, it turned back the other way
that’s too bad.” I groaned. I wanted out. All my will and fortitude were gone. My back felt like it was breaking in two and I felt like I was stuck in limbo. Held in suspension between two worlds, the dead and the living, I belonged to neither one. I did not want to go through with this any longer. My dad paced the floor and knit his brows. I thought about one of my girls to whom I am an advisor in my church, who had given birth to her illegitimate child (since then given up for adoption) just a week ago. At the time I only thought about the situational irony of this seventeen-year old girl who had never known a sick or uncomfortable day in her entire pregnancy, having her girl one week before mine and two weeks earlier than due. Now I remembered she had delivered Cesarean because the baby was in a posterior position. Please, not a c-section, I prayed again, the tears riding down my temples.
“Okay, let’s do it again,” my dad said somberly. I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth, and pushed down again. Tu-u-ur-rn it! I shouted against my mind’s walls, echoing and deafening my senses. “Oh, Father, Father, Father.” I groaned. It was no earthly father I called, but the upward stretching of my soul to clasp an omnipotent, invisible hand.
“Oh, dear, it’s turning back again. Well, we’ll leave it along.” He paced the floor again, agitated, and looked at me sharply. I can give you something if you want a saddle it’s only a little bit longer, though almost over try again there, it’s coming just a few more pushes can you push harder?” I shook my head weakly; my sensitivities numb with the agonizing discomfort. Kent spoke soothingly, encouragingly. Again and again I tried. Then ”Now it’s coming hold it, hold it (clip). Push now there’s the head!! One more push and you’ve got it honey.” I fell back on the table, heaving, took another breath, pushed hard, then shouted exuberantly as an exhilarating gush bulleted the baby into my dad’s waiting hands. “It’s a girl! A beautiful baby girl!” “Listen to that yell,” Kent joined in ”She sure is a feisty thing Yes, it’s a beautiful baby girl, born 10:05 p.m. with an Apgar score of ten.” My dad beamed. I fell weakly back on the delivery table, relief flooding my sensibilities. I watched him hold the squalling, red baby, sheathed in a white waxy coating, by the feet as he cleaned the mucous and fluid from her nose and mouth with a bulb syringe. My spirit nodded silent assent. Yes, of course it was a girl. My dad laid her across my deflated stomach and I wept. A beautiful baby girl. A perfect little girl. Rachel. Rachel Ann Gardiner. I’d go through all this over again in a moment just to have you. Oh, thank you, thank you Father. A quiet elation filtered through my system and I cried, as I had done after Chad’s birth. The miracle of procreation had so awed me at that time that I had never again considered the sexual relationship between a man and a woman without the deepest reverence.
I did not seem to notice the stitches, the convulsive shaking, and the afterbirth cramps—they were nothing compared to what I’d just been through. The nurses wrapped the baby and I each in warm linen. We paused for pictures outside the nursery. Then I handed Rachel to the nurse and was placed on a firm, smooth bed in a dark room of the adjoining wing of the maternity ward. Ah, it felt so good to feel the bed’s hard surface press against my sore back, and see my flattened tummy. Kent kissed me and went out to call his parents.
My dad appeared some time later, dressed in his customary suit. Placing his hand on my head, he whispered. “Well, you have a beautiful little girl. She has pretty features looks a lot like you did when you were born. You were a pretty baby her head is a little flattened, but that will straighten out. Near as I can tell she looks all right—none the worse for wear I called Mother; she sends her love you know what I put in the hospital report? ‘This is the most beautiful little baby girl ever born in this hospital” he laughed softly, “a grandfather’s prerogative. Well, try and get some sleep now. You did a good job, honey. I love you. “ He kissed my forehead. I smiled and sank into the darkness and a kind of soul sleeping.
Secrets of Waikapalae Wet Cave 1978
“Waikapalae Wet Cave was made by the Fire Goddess Pele upon her arrival in the Hawaiian Islands, expecting to find fire at the earth’s core rather than fresh water.” I read aloud from the “Wiki Wiki Wheels U-Drive” guidebook while my husband maneuvered the compact rent-a-car along the winding two-lane highway. "An eerie cavern filled with limpid green water, no one can explain why the icy pool occasionally turns cloudy. By diving into the chilly water and swimming under the wall of the mountain one comes up in a secret room, reported to be an ancient trysting place for lovers. It is said that bellows from mo’o (giant lizard trapped under the earth’s surface) can sometimes be heard at night.”
The idea of exploring this mystical place intrigued me. What enchanting tales did it harbor? “Let’s go find it!” I turned to Kent excitedly. “And look for the secret room?” he grinned slyly and raised his eyebrows in rapid succession. “Just tell me where to go and I’ll take you there,” he said lightly.
My eyes probed the blurring roadside for the capped King Kamehameha-pictured marker. “There it is! Turn left—how!” Kent turned the wheel sharply, throwing me against the door. Shifting the rust-colored Toyota into low, we skidded up the narrow gravelly road about a hundred yards and parked on the edge of a dirt cul-de-sac, facing the highway. Chattering female voices and door’s slamming drew our attention to a small group of woman preparing to leave.
Kent: “Hey! My wife thinks there’s a cave around here that you can dive in and come up in some secret room.” (I wrinkled up my nose.)
Lady driver: “You mean the ‘blue room’? Yes, I’ve gone inside it. Not this year, though. It’s really neat, you should see it.”
Kent “Can you see the room? How do you find it?”
Lady driver: “I came last year in the afternoon and the sun was shining inside the cave and the water was so clear—you see the rocks on the bottom. It was sort of a turquoise-blue color. There’s a little tunnel about this big”—she raised her arms and touched her fingertips above her head—on the right side of the cave…oh, about halfway in. I rode in on an inner tube. Or you can dive under the ledge of the right wall of the cave and come inside. Some of my friends did that…that might be your best bet.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I kicked off my cloddy wooden shoes, rolled up the window, smacked the door lock, and clambered out of the car. To the left of the access road a jagged and steep path, obscured by heavy hillside growth, climbed straight up the mountain. I eyed it unhappily. Cheerful voices floated down over the treetops. Taking my husband’s hand, I gingerly picked my way over the rocky trail. Sharp volcanic rock dug into my tender city feet. I lunged from one rough level to another—deliberately searching out the smoother surfaces. Even the flatter, worn rocks were covered with a thin layer of sharp, granulated rocks that produced “Ooh’s!” and “Ah’s!” between my gritted teeth. I wryly imagined in former times a bronze Hawaiian youth urging his complaining maiden lover, whispering, “Come on, only a little further...it’ll be worth it, I promise you…”
Cresting the top of the hill, I paused breathlessly to view the gaping cavern below me. The path zigzagged down a few feet, halting at a cumbersome boulder, then split to the right and left, tumbling over large rocks and loose gravel to the glassy water’s edge. The cave was a partially submerged cup carved in the face of a neck-craning, solid cliff. An arch as perfect as any rainbow’s marked the cup’s lip, or mouth of the cave. The bowl’s rippled wall on the right side, however seemed dented in, for rather than curving convexly out in a smooth crescent, it angled over to the left side so that the water on the left of the cave was cut deep into the mountain, while the right strip of water thinned out into rough terra firma. The vary-hued water’s surface looked like a shiny wedge of pie. The mid-afternoon sun’s rays illuminated only the opening of the arch, but from where I stood the pool did not look limpid green at all. It changed, like a painter’s stick, from translucent turquoise just below me, to murky brown in the far-reaches of the cave.
I stumbled down the scarred hillside to have a closer look. Each of us perched on a separate rock; Kent and I stood alone in the warm natural amphitheater. I peered anxiously into the dark water near the right wall, looking for the tunnel, while Kent laughed loudly and listened to its hollow magnifying echo.
“Do you see the tunnel? He asked interestedly.
“Well…” I hesitated. “I think I see it in the middle there.” I pointed to a lumpy indentation rising a little above the water line. “It looks like it goes in a little ways and then turns to the right. I’d have to get over closer to tell.”
“Oh, yes, I see it now. Can you see into the room?”
“Not from here. Why don’t you swim over and have a peek?”
“Who me? Not me!” he said emphatically. “I wouldn’t go in that water you go. You’re the brave one in this family, remember?”
I screwed my mouth up in a pout. “Humph!” I snorted. My gaze wavered between the forbidding water at my feet, the silhouetted hill behind me, and fortress rock before me. I visualized the room behind that impregnable buttress, lying the same as it had for centuries…. The light filtering in from somewhere above, casting perhaps a soft blue light on the worn rock bed…maybe fern icicles dangling from the ceiling like in a fern grotto…silence, except for the erratic drip, drop of water falling from stalagmites…the “blue room”…I sighed. It would be a shame for us to have come this far, perhaps for the only time in our lives, and leave without having visited this haunting secret room.
Reluctantly, I dipped my foot into the icy water. “Oooh! That’s co-o-old!” Huge rocks and boulders avalanched long ago from the hill behind me. Tumbled a few yards into the pool’s depths. Then the pool’s bottom dropped out of sight into subterraneous levels. I splashed from rock to rock towards the edge of the impenetrable deep. “Ouch! Oh agh! The rocks are cutting my feet and the water is just free-ee-eezing!”
“Well, dive in and start swimming,” my husband shouted encouragingly.
I teetered hesitantly on a slippery pedestal. Well, I was in this far…”Okay,” I said less enthusiastically. Taking a big breath, I shut my eyes and leaped ungracefully into the chilly darkness. I whooped and flailed my quickly to the right wall, feeling the blood petrify in my numb veins from the coldness. I paused, treading water, near the bumpy indentation.
“Can you see anything?”
“I don’t know,” my teeth chattered, “it curves to the right, and I can’t see where it goes. I think I see a light, though.” Was it my imagination or was there a faint eerie blue light glowing from within? I got as close as I could to the watery tunnel without knocking my head on the low hanging rock or dipping my chin into the freezing water. Maybe the blue tint was my imagining, but it did seem as though eerie was some light coming from somewhere, because I could see no shadows although the irregular roof dipped and arched and angled this way and that.
“Really? Kent called excitedly. “Can you swim inside the tunnel and see where it goes?”
“Not without diving under the water, the roof of the tunnel’s too low.” I shivered as I mulled this idea over in my brain. What if I dived down into the water and never came up again? I felt like I was hovering over a black bottomless pit and in my vivid mind’s eye I could see mo’so blinking up at me and reaching a scaly claw to drag me under forever.
“Um-m-m, I think I’m going to get out now,” I stammered, trying to be nonchalant. “You come over and take a look.” I swam hurriedly towards the submerged rocks, passing over—was that a warm spot? The water swirling past my thighs seemed almost comfortable for a moment, then goose-pimply cold again. I was engulfed by another warmer spot that moved from my wrists down to my ankles. I paused a few seconds, startled, then thrashed wildly for shore. My knee caught on the jagged edge of an unseen obstacle and I scrambled for safety. Out of the darkness and into the warm sunlight I shrugged my fears off. Too much television I laughed to myself.
“Okay, your turn,” I turned to Kent. “ I did it, now you do it. It’s not so bad, really, once you get going.”
“Well, all right…boy, it is cold…is it ever cold…this is really cold water!” he shrieked, splashing and stumbling into the dark deep. “Whoa!” He frog-legged it over to the center of the right wall. “There’s no light coming from in there…no, maybe there is…I can’t tell, but there does seem to be a faint glow about it.”
“Why don’t you swim under water and see where it goes? I called.
“Unh, unh! I’m not going in there. I’m getting out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”
“Me, too.” I watched him struggle into the rocks. We stood looking uncertainly into the mute cavern. What had it been like long ago? Two lovers stealthily feeling their way to the pool’s edge in the moonlit night…they are followed by a silent third…a struggle…one lover lies motionless, staring with sightless eyes from the bottom of the pool’s depths…the other two leave swiftly, one sobbing…
My attention is averted by a rock falling from the hilltop at my back and the sound of scuffling. I jumped involuntarily. From behind a boulder bounded two almond-shaped eyes peering beneath a cap of black shiny hair. This little oriental boy was followed by a little oriental girl in sable pigtails, smiling oriental woman, thirty-fivish, and a short oriental man with poised camera in his hands.
“Hey, you guys should go swimming here, it’s loads of fun,” Kent hollered up to the man.
“In there? You’re kidding?! “ The man’s mouth dropped.
“Sure, you’ll have a great time.” We both laughed. “You see there’s this secret room…” I tuned Kent’s voice out as I thought of that mystical.
The loosely woven curtains to the right of my cherry wood sewing cabinet were fully drawn to let in as much light as possible this late afternoon, Tuesday, January 24, 1978. The ancient black motor, faintly resembling a giant mosquito, hovered motionless over the blue baby’s bubble suit that was beginning to take shape under my swift fingers from some leftover scraps of matching Christmas cardigans that I had made for my husband and son. In my private communication with eternity, I knew my unborn child was a girl whom I would name Rachel, “the beloved”. She would be my parent’s first granddaughter. Because my yearning for her was so deep souled, I outwardly pretended, even to myself, that this one would be another boy. I could not bear my “premonition" to be wrong, and I must confess that I tend to be a “doubting Thomas”.
I was ready for “him” to be born-had been ready for three weeks now. The bags were packed and waiting the large pink Samsonite suitcase filled with underwear, nightgowns, robe, and slippers for me to take to the hospital; a small, monogrammed, blue d-denim bag leaning next to it containing my “Lamaze kit”; a voluminous “Save-Our-Trees” muslin bag stuffed with diapers, toys, change of clothes, and a schedule for Chad I even had a list made out of things to grab at the last minute. It had been so long since I had gotten ready that I had had to use several of the “take-a-longs” several times over already.
I was two days overdue and I was tired of the waiting. Tired of the gawks people gave my bulking shape as I waddled around still! Tired of having my form-conscious vanity dampened by my tight, ballooning distention, my elephantine bulge, that kept me from wearing anything remotely chic. Tired of the pain in my lower abdomen, of muscles that angrily protested against this unaltered burden. Tired of the utter humiliation of vomiting after meals with such violence that the contents of my already squished bladder gushed warmly down my legs (and of having my one-and-a-half year old son imitate my actions. Tired of the terrible dark depression, wondering if the baby would be born whole or well, or even alive. Tired of the constant ache in the small of my back caused by my disproportioned posture, and the longing for the time when the small of my back would effortlessly hug the bed’s flat surface instead of arching painfully away. Tired of lying awake the first half of the night with heartburn; or worse, getting up at 2 a.m. to empty my punished bladder and lying awake the last half. And I was tired of sleeping on the couch because it was the only thing that gave in to my bulges and sags. I WAS READY FOR THIS BABY TO BE BORN!
San Gabriel Valley Hospital
I liked its moderate charges, too. We passed my dad’s out-dated, chief-of-staff picture on the corridor wall and passed again just inside the metal doors as another cramp rolled forth.
“There’s your father now. Hello, Dr. Brown. Do you want to check her now, or would you like me to?”
“Oh I will,” he said congenially. “Hi Precious, how are you?” His face crinkled up and he stooped to kiss my cheek. “Let’s get her settled.” I was wheeled into the bright, posie-papered labor room. My dad disappeared while I changed into the blue-checked hospital gown. I left my socks on; remembering how ice-cold my feet got last time during transition.
It seemed as natural for me to trust my dad now as it had when I was a little girl. He would always be “daddy” to me-a soft warm, mountain of complete understanding and unconditional love. I liked the way his soft brown eyes melted; into his heavy jowls when he smiled at me in his tender way of saying, “You’re precious to me”. He was the archetype of all fathers, the ultimate Christian man. When I was a little girl, often times in my prayers the difference between the earthly father and the Spiritual Father became confused. I seemed to know the one because of my relationship with the other. I felt they both had my best interests at heart, even if it meant hurting me a little.
I gulped and mentally pushed the curtains of my modesty and self-dignity aside. I, who had been a virgin until marriage and had known and would only know one man, found it terribly painful to be probed and displayed in such an ungraceful manner, but if I had to endure it, I would rather let my Marcus Welby mannered, clinical father poke me than any young and good-looking “Dr. Kildaire.” Once, I had to get a physical exam at Cedars-Sinai hospital because a government study program I was involved in required me to do so. The doctor was in his late twenties and had dark curly hair and deep blue eyes. I nearly died. I thought, I’ve dated and loved guys older than you do and I never let them do what you, a perfect stranger, are doing. It was terrible.
My dad came in the room and spoke quietly to the nurse while pulling on a second-skin-like glove. “I’m not doing very much,” I told him, “my bag of waters hasn’t broken yet.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll be as gentle as I can, honey.” I gritted my teeth and mentally blocked out all my inner feelings. ”Let’s see, that’s (probing) um m..(o-o-O-OW! I screamed.) Three centimeters,” he said coolly, ramming his hand up to my navel and withdrawing it warm and dripping. “I broke the Amniotic sac, “he casually said aside to the nurse. I gasped painfully and clutched the sides of the bed. “I’m sorry, honey,” he looked at me sheepishly. “This way it’ll get things moving a little faster. You don’t want to be here all night, do you? I shook my head, still in a state of shock. “Okay,” he squeezed my knee. “I’ll let the nurse prep you and send Kent in a little later.”
“Surprised you, huh? The little oriental nurse said shyly as she bustled about, arranging pads under me and gathering a razor and enema bag. I was still too shaken to mind the further indignity of the shave and enema treatment. Amniotic fluid oozed warmly out between my legs, wetting the bed linen and trickling across the floor as I trotted to the bathroom. When I came out Kent was waiting for me 9in a chair beside the bed, flipping thorough the T.V. channels. I recalled that when I was in labor with Chad he had found an early morning Laurel and Hardy movie on television. He bucked it up and then, exhausted by all the excitement and lack of sleep had curled behind me on the same narrow twin bed and fallen asleep. He only roused himself when I yelled, “rub my back!” with a lazy massaging motion of his left hand. At any other time I would have found him amusing, but at that time I fumed at his seeming insensitivity to my ordeal.
This time I made him leave the channel on a dull Fred MacMurray movie about a woman-president of the United States and all the problems her husband MacMurray had. The dialogue and action were so dry I had to really concentrate to comprehend any thing that made sense. And by now I needed the concentrated distraction. The contractions began rolling forward again forcefully and hard. I sucked on ice chips and began my second-phase breathing. “pant-pant-pant-pant-blow”, thinking to myself that child’s rhyme, “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can,” in rhythm with the breathing. I alternately focused my eyes on the clock (just 20 more seconds I can hang on for just 20 more seconds now 10 more) and Fred MacMurray’s mouth (What nonsense is he saying?) The contractions lasted 60 to 75 seconds and came every two to four minutes. They started in my lower back and moved up to my rib cage and then forward and down to my cervix. My round belly was so sore. I couldn’t stand anything touching it nor could I stand leaving it alone. I slid my fingertips along my side and moved them forward and down the contraction, sometimes with hand lotion, sometimes with ice water. My cervix cramped with a dull pain, like a charley horse, during every contraction, s. I gave in to each pain, mentally shouting: ”Open! O-o-op-en!” As if I could will it to dilate a centimeter each time. The vertebrae in the small of my back ground mercilessly and I cried for Kent to rub it harder. Rolling two tennis balls against my back with his palms and all his might, he helped relieve the pressure and made the pain tolerable. It was uncomfortable lying on my side. But even more uncomfortable on my back because I had no relief from the back labor.
I shifted my weight absently as an uncomfortable movement churned my bowels, and remembered the amusing events before my son Chad’s labor. He was due on Mother’s day, May 9, 1976. The Friday night before his due dates Kent and I went to a friends’ wedding reception. I made a pig of myself on the refreshments and joked about him “making camp” in my tummy. We came home early and watched Maureen Stapleton in “Belle of the Stardust Ball”, then cuddled to sleep in bed until 2 a.m. I awoke to a pop, not unlike a fetus’ single hiccough. I got up to go to the bathroom and couldn’t get off the toilet. A slow dribble of water trickled down my legs. The realization that this was the onslaught of labor sent little electric thrills through my body.
I wrapped a blue and gold hand towel between my legs and eased back into bed to try and get some more sleep. The waves of gentle contractions rolling from the small of my back towards my pelvic bone every tin minutes re-electrified me each time until I was wide-awake with calm anticipation. I decided to clean up my room so my mother and mother-in-law wouldn’t discover my “file system” stacked in disorderly piles beside the bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed and shuffling through papers, I inadvertently awoke Kent, who sprung out of bed like a frightened cat when I told him yes, I was in labor. I told him to go back to sleep that it would be hours before we’d even need to go to the hospital. (Labor with first babies averages close to twenty hours.” He said he couldn’t, that he was too nervous. He chattered excitedly, paced the floor, pulled on his clothes, and then ran out to find a gas station open near Ocean Park and Lincoln Blvd in Santa Monica at 3 a.m. Every time I moved it felt as though all my insides from my diaphragm down where roll over a bumpy road. I took my half an hour just to get dressed. I knew I’d never make it through cleaning the bedroom or fixing Kent’s lunch. When he returned with the car, a teak-blue MGB, I told him he’d better pull some frozen sandwiches out of the freezer. He said that he was so excited and nervous he wouldn’t be able to eat. He said that he felt like vomiting. He called my dad to ask him what we should do; the contractions were five minutes apart, and out hospital, in San Gabriel, was forty minutes away. My dad sleepily told us to go on over to the hospital and let the nurses check me, we could always go over to my parent’s house if I “wasn’t doing anything much”.
I braced my legs again and the present came sharply into focus as another pain churned inside my bulge under Kent’s “El Sleuth” sweatshirt. Could I be in labor? But my bag of waters hadn’t broken yet, nor had I lost my mucous plug. I had had Braxton-Hickson contractions before, but not this insistent or regular. I laid the sewing down and looked at my watch. It was nearly six o’clock time to get dinner on for Chad and Kent. Maybe if I moved around the contractions would go away. That was supposed to be the way you could tell real labor from false labor: in real labor the contractions get harder; in false labor, the contractions lessened or disappeared.
I hobbled into the kitchen, threw some hamburger on the fire, and began grating Mozzarella cheese with one eye on the clock. The strong turning-over sensation came every 10-15 minutes. Chad’s labor, from start to delivery had been only seven hours. Since successive labors are much, much less and since Panorama City is nearly as far from San Gabriel as Santa Monica, I was a bit concerned about getting to the hospital in time. No time for pizza, it’ll have to be pizza-burgers-eaten on the run. Kent scurried circles around me, throwing the sandwiches into brown paper bags, chucking all the gear into the brown Plymouth Valiant, calling the friends who were going to watch Chad, and calling my mom to make sure my dad would get the message and meet us at the hospital. I lived in fear of having the baby in the car. Or, almost as dreadful, not making connections with my father.
We pulled up to Bob and Judy Garcia’s house about 6:45 p.m. Chad recognized the house and began to giggle with eager anticipation. He bounded up the walk, darted through the partially open door, and be-lined right for the boys’ bedroom and toy box. Kent and I looked at each other and laughed, embarrassed, and my heart thrilled a note in my throat. It was hard to leave him, my soon-to-be-no-longer only child. I struggled awkwardly up the driveway to plant a kiss on his flushed, fair face. He beamed enthusiastically back, happy just to be with other children.
I made my way slowly back to the car, leaning heavily on Kent, and thought about hat first, wild early morning ride to the hospital. It was about 3:45 a.m. when we finally pulled ourselves together, ready to leave. Thoughtful Kent had parked the car at the end of the block and across the street from our white, black-trimmed apartment building. I panted my way down each step of the flight of stairs from our second-story apartment, pausing frequently, and remembered wryly how my neighbor had chuckles when she told me that she had thought she could just waltz into the hospital right before delivery. Now I understood why she had laughed so hard. I could hardly walk, let alone waltz, and I was barely into first-stage labor. I heaved heavily against a lighted street lamp while Kent yelled at me and rearranged bags under the MG’s back latch. A passing motorist hung his head out the window and gawked with unabashed curiosity. I chuckled out loud as I imagined the hilarity that his situation must appear to others. Our little sports car hugged the road and I felt every bump, every rock, every indentation and chuckhole. Every gearshift ground my spine; every jolt reverberated throughout my system. I put my hands, palms down on the leather seat, under my thighs to act as shock absorbers. Studiously practicing my controlled breathing and effleurage (abdominal massage), I focused on the license plate of the car ahead and counted the minutes.
The ride over to the hospital this second time was much easier. not just because this car rode smoother, but because the labor was much milder. This is a piece of cake, I thought. I don’t even have to think about distracting myself. The blurring lights along the lightly traveled Golden State Freeway had a fuzzy, dream-like quality about them. Everything seemed unread. It is strange how the mind detaches itself from the body during momentous occasions and looks on as an amazed and neutral observer. I felt my ego slip away from my id and hover slightly above and behind my head, noting with casual interest the various happenings. It didn’t seem possible that this could be happening to me that I (me!) was having my second child already. My ego’s self-identification will always be that of a young free spirit. It seemed that there were not two people riding along in that car sharing the same front seat, but three people: a pleasant-looking man not much past thirty, a mother-to-be in her early twenties, and an invisible, slim young girl, perhaps in her late teens.
Kent ran into the main entrance and came out with a wheelchair. They wheeled me into the dimly lit waiting-admittance area. The T.V. was on (I think it was a horror film—Dracula chasing a pretty young girl around a castle dungeon) and a few people lounged in the shadows. It was 7:30 p.m. While Kent parked the car, I filled out the admittance form and answered “Dr. J. Brown” to the receptionist’s query. “Good, he’s in already and waiting for you. We can take you back now.” I heaved a sigh of relief. Last time he showed up “just to see how (I) was doing”, and I delivered forty –five minutes later. I wanted no close calls this time. The nurse paused at my insistence as another contraction somersaulted forward and down my tightening belly. Then she began the long walk towards the double metal swinging doors in the outside middle curve of the “m”-shaped, one-story hospital. It was a small, old community hospital, with only an eighty-patient capacity. My dad said he liked to send his “special” patients here because of the slower pace and more personal attention they received here than at most other monstrous, prison/hotel like medical complexes. I and four of my five brothers and sisters were born in this same hospital some sixteen to twenty-three years earlier.
My dad checked on me briefly a little after 8:30 p.m. He patted my head gently and said, “It’s just a matter of putting in time, honey.” I couldn’t respond. I prayed for the time to go by faster and continued to will my cervix open with each successive contraction-that seemed more like one long, continuous contraction, with varying highs and lows, strengths and relaxation’s.
At 9:15 p.m. Kent pulled on a surgical suit while the nurse and my dad slid me into the same delivery room where I had been born twenty-three years earlier. “I feel like
My—back—is—going—to—break—in--two!” I whimpered as the nurse strapped my legs down in the stirrups.
“Oh dear, sounds like it’s posterior. That’s the way Johanna (my older sister) had Matthew. I’ll see if I can turn it around in a little bit.”
Kent lifted my shoulders with a pillow. I held my breath, gasped, and bore down as hard as I could, my face turning red and my ears popping, then lay back on the table weakly. “Tell me when the next contraction comes.” My dad sat on the stool at the end of the table. “Now! No, Yes, now! A-a-agh get your hand out of there! Stop!
I don’t care how the baby is born JUST GET YOUR HAND OUT1’
My dad smiled. “ I think I got it turned around Wait Ah, it turned back the other way
that’s too bad.” I groaned. I wanted out. All my will and fortitude were gone. My back felt like it was breaking in two and I felt like I was stuck in limbo. Held in suspension between two worlds, the dead and the living, I belonged to neither one. I did not want to go through with this any longer. My dad paced the floor and knit his brows. I thought about one of my girls to whom I am an advisor in my church, who had given birth to her illegitimate child (since then given up for adoption) just a week ago. At the time I only thought about the situational irony of this seventeen-year old girl who had never known a sick or uncomfortable day in her entire pregnancy, having her girl one week before mine and two weeks earlier than due. Now I remembered she had delivered Cesarean because the baby was in a posterior position. Please, not a c-section, I prayed again, the tears riding down my temples.
“Okay, let’s do it again,” my dad said somberly. I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth, and pushed down again. Tu-u-ur-rn it! I shouted against my mind’s walls, echoing and deafening my senses. “Oh, Father, Father, Father.” I groaned. It was no earthly father I called, but the upward stretching of my soul to clasp an omnipotent, invisible hand.
“Oh, dear, it’s turning back again. Well, we’ll leave it along.” He paced the floor again, agitated, and looked at me sharply. I can give you something if you want a saddle it’s only a little bit longer, though almost over try again there, it’s coming just a few more pushes can you push harder?” I shook my head weakly; my sensitivities numb with the agonizing discomfort. Kent spoke soothingly, encouragingly. Again and again I tried. Then ”Now it’s coming hold it, hold it (clip). Push now there’s the head!! One more push and you’ve got it honey.” I fell back on the table, heaving, took another breath, pushed hard, then shouted exuberantly as an exhilarating gush bulleted the baby into my dad’s waiting hands. “It’s a girl! A beautiful baby girl!” “Listen to that yell,” Kent joined in ”She sure is a feisty thing Yes, it’s a beautiful baby girl, born 10:05 p.m. with an Apgar score of ten.” My dad beamed. I fell weakly back on the delivery table, relief flooding my sensibilities. I watched him hold the squalling, red baby, sheathed in a white waxy coating, by the feet as he cleaned the mucous and fluid from her nose and mouth with a bulb syringe. My spirit nodded silent assent. Yes, of course it was a girl. My dad laid her across my deflated stomach and I wept. A beautiful baby girl. A perfect little girl. Rachel. Rachel Ann Gardiner. I’d go through all this over again in a moment just to have you. Oh, thank you, thank you Father. A quiet elation filtered through my system and I cried, as I had done after Chad’s birth. The miracle of procreation had so awed me at that time that I had never again considered the sexual relationship between a man and a woman without the deepest reverence.
I did not seem to notice the stitches, the convulsive shaking, and the afterbirth cramps—they were nothing compared to what I’d just been through. The nurses wrapped the baby and I each in warm linen. We paused for pictures outside the nursery. Then I handed Rachel to the nurse and was placed on a firm, smooth bed in a dark room of the adjoining wing of the maternity ward. Ah, it felt so good to feel the bed’s hard surface press against my sore back, and see my flattened tummy. Kent kissed me and went out to call his parents.
My dad appeared some time later, dressed in his customary suit. Placing his hand on my head, he whispered. “Well, you have a beautiful little girl. She has pretty features looks a lot like you did when you were born. You were a pretty baby her head is a little flattened, but that will straighten out. Near as I can tell she looks all right—none the worse for wear I called Mother; she sends her love you know what I put in the hospital report? ‘This is the most beautiful little baby girl ever born in this hospital” he laughed softly, “a grandfather’s prerogative. Well, try and get some sleep now. You did a good job, honey. I love you. “ He kissed my forehead. I smiled and sank into the darkness and a kind of soul sleeping.
Secrets of Waikapalae Wet Cave 1978
“Waikapalae Wet Cave was made by the Fire Goddess Pele upon her arrival in the Hawaiian Islands, expecting to find fire at the earth’s core rather than fresh water.” I read aloud from the “Wiki Wiki Wheels U-Drive” guidebook while my husband maneuvered the compact rent-a-car along the winding two-lane highway. "An eerie cavern filled with limpid green water, no one can explain why the icy pool occasionally turns cloudy. By diving into the chilly water and swimming under the wall of the mountain one comes up in a secret room, reported to be an ancient trysting place for lovers. It is said that bellows from mo’o (giant lizard trapped under the earth’s surface) can sometimes be heard at night.”
The idea of exploring this mystical place intrigued me. What enchanting tales did it harbor? “Let’s go find it!” I turned to Kent excitedly. “And look for the secret room?” he grinned slyly and raised his eyebrows in rapid succession. “Just tell me where to go and I’ll take you there,” he said lightly.
My eyes probed the blurring roadside for the capped King Kamehameha-pictured marker. “There it is! Turn left—how!” Kent turned the wheel sharply, throwing me against the door. Shifting the rust-colored Toyota into low, we skidded up the narrow gravelly road about a hundred yards and parked on the edge of a dirt cul-de-sac, facing the highway. Chattering female voices and door’s slamming drew our attention to a small group of woman preparing to leave.
Kent: “Hey! My wife thinks there’s a cave around here that you can dive in and come up in some secret room.” (I wrinkled up my nose.)
Lady driver: “You mean the ‘blue room’? Yes, I’ve gone inside it. Not this year, though. It’s really neat, you should see it.”
Kent “Can you see the room? How do you find it?”
Lady driver: “I came last year in the afternoon and the sun was shining inside the cave and the water was so clear—you see the rocks on the bottom. It was sort of a turquoise-blue color. There’s a little tunnel about this big”—she raised her arms and touched her fingertips above her head—on the right side of the cave…oh, about halfway in. I rode in on an inner tube. Or you can dive under the ledge of the right wall of the cave and come inside. Some of my friends did that…that might be your best bet.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I kicked off my cloddy wooden shoes, rolled up the window, smacked the door lock, and clambered out of the car. To the left of the access road a jagged and steep path, obscured by heavy hillside growth, climbed straight up the mountain. I eyed it unhappily. Cheerful voices floated down over the treetops. Taking my husband’s hand, I gingerly picked my way over the rocky trail. Sharp volcanic rock dug into my tender city feet. I lunged from one rough level to another—deliberately searching out the smoother surfaces. Even the flatter, worn rocks were covered with a thin layer of sharp, granulated rocks that produced “Ooh’s!” and “Ah’s!” between my gritted teeth. I wryly imagined in former times a bronze Hawaiian youth urging his complaining maiden lover, whispering, “Come on, only a little further...it’ll be worth it, I promise you…”
Cresting the top of the hill, I paused breathlessly to view the gaping cavern below me. The path zigzagged down a few feet, halting at a cumbersome boulder, then split to the right and left, tumbling over large rocks and loose gravel to the glassy water’s edge. The cave was a partially submerged cup carved in the face of a neck-craning, solid cliff. An arch as perfect as any rainbow’s marked the cup’s lip, or mouth of the cave. The bowl’s rippled wall on the right side, however seemed dented in, for rather than curving convexly out in a smooth crescent, it angled over to the left side so that the water on the left of the cave was cut deep into the mountain, while the right strip of water thinned out into rough terra firma. The vary-hued water’s surface looked like a shiny wedge of pie. The mid-afternoon sun’s rays illuminated only the opening of the arch, but from where I stood the pool did not look limpid green at all. It changed, like a painter’s stick, from translucent turquoise just below me, to murky brown in the far-reaches of the cave.
I stumbled down the scarred hillside to have a closer look. Each of us perched on a separate rock; Kent and I stood alone in the warm natural amphitheater. I peered anxiously into the dark water near the right wall, looking for the tunnel, while Kent laughed loudly and listened to its hollow magnifying echo.
“Do you see the tunnel? He asked interestedly.
“Well…” I hesitated. “I think I see it in the middle there.” I pointed to a lumpy indentation rising a little above the water line. “It looks like it goes in a little ways and then turns to the right. I’d have to get over closer to tell.”
“Oh, yes, I see it now. Can you see into the room?”
“Not from here. Why don’t you swim over and have a peek?”
“Who me? Not me!” he said emphatically. “I wouldn’t go in that water you go. You’re the brave one in this family, remember?”
I screwed my mouth up in a pout. “Humph!” I snorted. My gaze wavered between the forbidding water at my feet, the silhouetted hill behind me, and fortress rock before me. I visualized the room behind that impregnable buttress, lying the same as it had for centuries…. The light filtering in from somewhere above, casting perhaps a soft blue light on the worn rock bed…maybe fern icicles dangling from the ceiling like in a fern grotto…silence, except for the erratic drip, drop of water falling from stalagmites…the “blue room”…I sighed. It would be a shame for us to have come this far, perhaps for the only time in our lives, and leave without having visited this haunting secret room.
Reluctantly, I dipped my foot into the icy water. “Oooh! That’s co-o-old!” Huge rocks and boulders avalanched long ago from the hill behind me. Tumbled a few yards into the pool’s depths. Then the pool’s bottom dropped out of sight into subterraneous levels. I splashed from rock to rock towards the edge of the impenetrable deep. “Ouch! Oh agh! The rocks are cutting my feet and the water is just free-ee-eezing!”
“Well, dive in and start swimming,” my husband shouted encouragingly.
I teetered hesitantly on a slippery pedestal. Well, I was in this far…”Okay,” I said less enthusiastically. Taking a big breath, I shut my eyes and leaped ungracefully into the chilly darkness. I whooped and flailed my quickly to the right wall, feeling the blood petrify in my numb veins from the coldness. I paused, treading water, near the bumpy indentation.
“Can you see anything?”
“I don’t know,” my teeth chattered, “it curves to the right, and I can’t see where it goes. I think I see a light, though.” Was it my imagination or was there a faint eerie blue light glowing from within? I got as close as I could to the watery tunnel without knocking my head on the low hanging rock or dipping my chin into the freezing water. Maybe the blue tint was my imagining, but it did seem as though eerie was some light coming from somewhere, because I could see no shadows although the irregular roof dipped and arched and angled this way and that.
“Really? Kent called excitedly. “Can you swim inside the tunnel and see where it goes?”
“Not without diving under the water, the roof of the tunnel’s too low.” I shivered as I mulled this idea over in my brain. What if I dived down into the water and never came up again? I felt like I was hovering over a black bottomless pit and in my vivid mind’s eye I could see mo’so blinking up at me and reaching a scaly claw to drag me under forever.
“Um-m-m, I think I’m going to get out now,” I stammered, trying to be nonchalant. “You come over and take a look.” I swam hurriedly towards the submerged rocks, passing over—was that a warm spot? The water swirling past my thighs seemed almost comfortable for a moment, then goose-pimply cold again. I was engulfed by another warmer spot that moved from my wrists down to my ankles. I paused a few seconds, startled, then thrashed wildly for shore. My knee caught on the jagged edge of an unseen obstacle and I scrambled for safety. Out of the darkness and into the warm sunlight I shrugged my fears off. Too much television I laughed to myself.
“Okay, your turn,” I turned to Kent. “ I did it, now you do it. It’s not so bad, really, once you get going.”
“Well, all right…boy, it is cold…is it ever cold…this is really cold water!” he shrieked, splashing and stumbling into the dark deep. “Whoa!” He frog-legged it over to the center of the right wall. “There’s no light coming from in there…no, maybe there is…I can’t tell, but there does seem to be a faint glow about it.”
“Why don’t you swim under water and see where it goes? I called.
“Unh, unh! I’m not going in there. I’m getting out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”
“Me, too.” I watched him struggle into the rocks. We stood looking uncertainly into the mute cavern. What had it been like long ago? Two lovers stealthily feeling their way to the pool’s edge in the moonlit night…they are followed by a silent third…a struggle…one lover lies motionless, staring with sightless eyes from the bottom of the pool’s depths…the other two leave swiftly, one sobbing…
My attention is averted by a rock falling from the hilltop at my back and the sound of scuffling. I jumped involuntarily. From behind a boulder bounded two almond-shaped eyes peering beneath a cap of black shiny hair. This little oriental boy was followed by a little oriental girl in sable pigtails, smiling oriental woman, thirty-fivish, and a short oriental man with poised camera in his hands.
“Hey, you guys should go swimming here, it’s loads of fun,” Kent hollered up to the man.
“In there? You’re kidding?! “ The man’s mouth dropped.
“Sure, you’ll have a great time.” We both laughed. “You see there’s this secret room…” I tuned Kent’s voice out as I thought of that mystical.
1978 August
Hawaii
Suzanne and I go to Hawaii with Madeline Hunter. We enjoyed Hanamma Bay with clean water and fish, swimming in the toilet bowl. The slippery slide was great; the flowers Banyan trees, volcano, beaches, lush growth were inspiring. Suzanne liked the rain forests, the history of King Kamehamah and his family, the beaches, waterfalls, and fern grottos. It was a lovely romantic time away from everything.
Suzanne and I go to Hawaii with Madeline Hunter. We enjoyed Hanamma Bay with clean water and fish, swimming in the toilet bowl. The slippery slide was great; the flowers Banyan trees, volcano, beaches, lush growth were inspiring. Suzanne liked the rain forests, the history of King Kamehamah and his family, the beaches, waterfalls, and fern grottos. It was a lovely romantic time away from everything.
1978 October 28
Suzanne Gardiner
SECRETS
OF WAIKAPALAE WET CAVE
"Waikapalae Wet Cave
was made by the Fire Goddess Pele upon
her arrival in the Hawaiian
Islands, expecting to find fire at the earth's core rather than fresh
water." I read aloud from the "Wiki Wild. Wheels U-drive"
guidebook while my husband maneuvered the compact rent-a-car along the winding
two-lane highway. "An eerie cavern filled with limpid green water, no one
can explain why the icy pool occasionally turns cloudy. By diving into the
chilly water and swimming under the wall of the mountain one
comes up in a secret room, reported to be an ancient trysting place for lovers.
It is said that bellows from mo'o (giant lizard trapped under the earth's
surface face) can sometimes be heard at night." The idea of exploring this
mystical place intrigued me. What enchanting tales did it harbor? "Let's
go find it!" I turned to Kent excitedly. "And look for the secret
room?" he grinned slyly and raised his eyebrows in rapid succession.
"Just tell me where to go and I'll take you there," he said lightly.
My eyes probed the blurring
roadside for the caped King Kamehameha-pictured marker. "There it is! Turn
left--now!" Kent turned the wheel sharply, throwing me against the door.
Shifting the rust-colored Toyota into low, we skidded up the narrow gravelly
road about a hundred yards and parked on the edge of a dirt cul-de-sac sac,
facing the highway. Chattering female voices and slamming doors drew our
attention to a small group of women preparing to leave.
Kent: "Hey! My wife
thinks there's a cave around here that you can dive in and come up in some
secret room." (I wrinkled up my nose.)
Lady driver: "You mean
the 'blue room'? Yea, I've gone inside it.
Not this year, though. It's
really neat, you should see it."
Kent: "Can you see the
room? How do you find it?"
Lady driver “I came last
year in the afternoon and the sun was shining inside the cave and the water was
so clear--you see the rocks on the bottom. It was sort of a turquoise-blue
color. There's a little tunnel about this big"--she raised her arms and
touched her fingertips above her head--"on the right side of the
cave...oh, about halfway in. I rode in on an inner tube. Or you can dive under
the ledge of the right wall of the cave and come inside. Some of my friends did
that...that might be your best bet."
"Okay, thanks."
I kicked off my cloddy
wooden shoes, rolled up the window, smacked the door lock, and clambered out of
the car. To the left of the access road a jagged and steep path, obscured by
heavy hillside growth, climbed straight up the mountain. I eyed it unhappily.
Cheerful voices floated down over the treetops. Taking my husband's hand, I
gingerly picked my way over the rocky trail. Sharp volcanic rock dug into my
tender city feet. I lunged from one rough level to another--deliberately
searching out the smoother surfaces. Even the flatter, worn rocks were covered
with a thin layer of sharp, granulated rocks that produced "Ooh's"
and "Ah's!" between my gritted teeth. I wryly imagined in former
times a bronzed Hawaiian youth urging his complaining maiden lover,
whispering, "Come on, only a little further...it'll be worth it, I promise
you..."
Cresting the top of the
hill, I paused breathlessly to view the gaping cavern below me. The path
zigzagged down a few feet, halting at a cumbersome boulder, then split to the
right and left, tumbling over large rocks and loose gravel to the grassy,
water's edge. The cave was a partially submerged cup carved in the face of a
neck-craning, solid cliff. An arch as perfect as any rainbow's marked the cup's
lip, or mouth of the cave. The bowl's rippled wall on the right side, however,
seemed dented in, for rather than mcurving convexly out in a smooth crescent,
it angled over to the left side so that the water on the left of the cave was
cut deep into the mountain, while the right strip of water thinned out into
rough terra firma. The van-hued water's surface looked like a shiny wedge of
pie. The mid-afternoon sun's rays illuminated only the opening of the arch, but
from where I stood the pool did not look limpid green at all. It changed, like
a painter's stick, from translucent turquoise just below me, to murky brown in
the far-reaches of the cave.
I stumbled down the scarred
hillside to have a closer look.
Each of us perched on a
separate rock, Kent and I stood alone in the warm natural amphitheater. I
peered anxiously into the dark water near the right wall, looking for the
tunnel, while Kent laughed loudly and listened to its hollow magnifying echo.
"Do you see the tunnel?"
he asked interestedly.
"Well..."I
hesitated. "I think I see it in the middle there."
I pointed to a lumpy
indentation rising a little above the water line.
"It looks like it goes
in a little ways and then turns to the right.
I'd have to get over closer
to tell."
"Oh, yea, I see it
now. Can you see into the room?"
"Not from here. Why
don't you swim over and have a peek?"
"Who me? Not me!"
he said emphatically. "I wouldn't go in that water. You go. You're the
brave one in this family, remember?"
I screwed my mouth up in a
pout. "Humph!" I snorted. My gaze averred between the forbidding
water at my feet, the silhouetted hill behind me, and fortress rock before me.
I visualized the room behind that impregnable buttress, lying the same as it for
centuries.... the light filtering in from somewhere above, casting perhaps a
soft blue light on the worn rock bed...maybe fern icicles dangling from the
ceiling like in a fern grotto...silence, except for the erratic drip, drop of
water falling from stalactites...the "blue room"....I sighed. It
would be a shame for us to have come this far, perhaps for the only time in our
lives, and leave without having visited this haunting secret room.
Reluctantly, I dipped my
foot into the icy water. "Oooh! that's co-o-old!" Huge rocks and
boulders, avalanched long ago from the hill behind me, tumbled a few yards into
the pool's depths. Then the pool's bottom dropped out of sight into
sul4rraneous levels. I splashed from rock to rock towards the edge of the
impenetrable deep. "Ouch! Oh! Ouch the rocks are cutting my feet and the
water is just free-ee-eezing!"
"Well, dive in and
start swimming," my husband shouted encouragingly.
I teetered hesitantly on a
slippery pedestal. Well, I was in this far... "Okay," I said less
enthusiastically. Taking a big breath, I shut my eyes and leaped ungracefully
into the chilly darkness. I whooped and flai4quickly to the right wall,
feeling the blood petrify
in my numb veins from the coldness. I paused, treading water, near the bumpy
indentation.
"Can you see
anything?"
"1 don't know,"
my teeth chattered, "it curves to the right, and I can't see where it
goes. I think I see a light, though." Was it my imagination or was there a
faint eerie blue light glowing from within? I got as close as I could to the
watery tunnel without knocking my head on the low hanging rock or dipping my
chin into the freezing water. Maybe the blue tint was my imagining, but it did
seem as though there was some light corning from somewhere, because I could see
no shadows although the irregular roof dipped and arched and angled this way
and that.
"Really?" Kent
called excitedly. "Can you swim inside the tunnel and see where it
goes?"
"Not without diving
under the water, the roof of the tunnel's too low." I shivered as I mulled
this idea over in my brain. What if I dived down into the water and never came
up again? I felt like I was hovering over a black bottomless pit and in my
vivid mind's eye I could see mo'o blinking up at me and reaching a scaly claw
to drag me under forever.
"Um-m-m, I think I'm
going to get out now," I stammered, trying to be nonchalant. "You
come over and take a look." I swam hurriedly towards the submerged rocks,
passing over--was that a warm spot? The water swirling past my thighs seemed
almost comfortable for a moment, then goose-pimply cold again. I was engulfed
by another warmer spot that moved from my wrists down to my ankles. I paused a
few seconds, startled, then thrashed wildly for shore. My knee caught on the
jagged edge of an unseen obstacle and I scrambled for safety. Out of the
darkness and into the warm sunlight I shrugged my fears off. Too much
television, I laughed to myself.
"Okay, your
turn," I turned to Kent. "I did it, now you do it. It's not so bad,
really, once you get going."
"Well, all
right...boy, it is cold...is it ever cold...this is really cold water!" he
shrieked, splashing and stumbling into the dark deep. "Whoa!" He
frog-legged it over to the center of the right wall. "There's no light
coming from in there...no, maybe there is...1 can't tell, but there does seem
to be faint glow about it."
"Why don't you swim
under water and see where it goes?" I called.
"Unh, unh! I'm not
going in there. I'm getting out of here. This place gives me the creeps."
"Me, too." I
watched him struggle onto the rocks. We stood looking uncertainly into the
mute cavern. What had it been like long ago? ....Two lovers stealthily feeling
their way to the pool's edge in the moonlit night...they are followed by a
silent third...a struggle... one lover lies motionless, staring with sightless
eyes from the bottom of the pool's depths...the other two leave swiftly, one
sobbing. . .My attention is averted by a rock falling from the hilltop at my
back and the sound scuffling. I jumped involuntarily. From behind a boulder
bounded two almond-shaped eyes peering beneath a cap of black shiny hair. This
little oriental boy was followed by a little oriental girl in sable pig-tails,
a smiling oriental woman, thirty-five-ish, and a short oriental man with poised
camera in his hands.
"Hey, you guys should
go swimming in here, it's loads of fun," Kent hollered up
to the man.
"In there? You're
kidding?!" the man's mouth dropped.
"Sure, you'll have a
great time." We both laughed. "You see there's this secret
room...." I tuned Kent's voice out as I thought of that mystical,
enchanting place I had never visited, and may never visit.
September
26, 1978
Pin Ball Machinery
Pin Ball Machinery
A certain-farmer
went through the forest seeking any bird of interest he might find. He caught a
young eagle, brought it home and put it among his fouls and ducks and
turkeys, and gave it- chickens feed to eat even though it was an eagle, the
king of the birds.
Five
years later a naturalist came to see him and, after passing through his garden,
exclaimed, "that bird is an eagle, not a chicken."
"Yes,"
said its owner,, "but I have trained it to be a chicken. It is no longer
and eagle, it is a chicken, even though it measures fifteen feet from wingtip
to wingtip.".
"No,"
said the naturalist, "it is an eagle still; it has the heart of an eagle,
and I ill make it soar high up to the heavens."
They
agreed to test it. The naturalist picked up the eagle; "Thou dost belong
to the sky and not to this earth, stretch forth thy wings and fly."
The eagle
turned this way and that, and then looking down, saw the chickens eating their
food, and down he jumped.
The owner
said, "See, I told you it was a chicken."
"No,"
said the naturalist. "It is an eagle. Give it another chance,
tomorrow."
So the
next day he took it to top of the house and said: "Eagle, thou art
an eagle,
stretch forth thy wings and fly. " But again the eagle, seeing the
chickens feeding, jumped down, and fed with them.
"See,,"
the owner said, "I told you it was a chicken."
"No,"
answered the naturalist, "It is an eagle, and it still has the heart of an
eagle. Only give it one more chance, and I will make it fly tomorrow."
The next
morning he rose early and took the eagle outside the city away from the chicken
yard, away form the houses, , to the foot of a high mountain. The sun was just
rising gilding the top of the mountain with gold, d every crag was
glistening in the joy of that beautiful morning.
He picked
up the eagle and said to it: "Eagle, thou art an eagle, thou dost belong
to the sky and not to his earth. Stretch forth thy wings and fly!" The
eagle looked around and trembled as if new life were coming into it, but it did
not fly. The naturalist then made it look straight at the sun (and for our
purposes, let's spell sun-- S-O-N-- like in the Son of God). Suddenly it
stretched out its wings and, with the screech of an eagle, flew, though it
had been kept and tamed as a chicken.
I can
almost imagine the Lord saying to us , "Thou art the Sons and Daughters of
God. Thou dost belong to a more exalted sphere and not to this earth. Look unto
the Son of God, the redeemer of your Salvation, and lift yourselves to greater
heights." By looking to the Savior we can come to know THAT SOMETHING
within us.
The
knowledge of our Divine Souls will help us to have the internal strength to
rise above the chickens and temptations around;. us. External factors like
fashions, what other people think, and 'the in thing to do ' will be
meaningless to us because we know who we are and what we may become. I truly
believe the possession of THAT SOMETHING, was what gave the same Peter who
denied Christ three times, later the courage to stand up and defend him at the
risk of his own life. As he internalized the gospel principles and realized who
the Savior really was, he found THAT SOMETHING in his own life. When I firs
entered High School, mini skirts were at a peak in popularity.
My good
mother tried very hard to keep my skirts long and modest, while I struggled to
compromise church standards with hose of my friends and the world. It was a
real battle every time we went shopping, and it never failed, as soon as we got
home my mother would let all my hems out. I wasn't trying to rebel against my
parents of leaders or the church. I just wanted to be accepted by my
schoolmates1 It was bad enough being the stake presidents daughter let 1one
having to wear my skirts down to the middle of my knee!; Deep inside I really
wanted to do the right things, to have the courage to live the gospel standards
and not care what others though. but I didn’t' have the courage to be different
than my other girlfriends. The ridicule would by more than I could bear. So
secretly at night j scotch- taped and sewed up the hems of my
dresses or rolled my skirts up as soon as I got to seminary. Well my mother found
out and the whole house came down on my head It seemed to me as if I had
committed the Unpardonable Sin. There was a big conference session with my dad
in the library behind closed doors. I lied and I cried and shouted. "Well,
I don't think Heavenly Father wants me to run around looking like a
frump!."
My father
is a very wise and loving man. He knew that what I as really saying was,
"I want to do the right things but I don't have the courage to be
different than my friends." I was stifling under the letter of the law
because I hadn’t caught the spirit of it The opinions and standards of
others meant so much to me because I hadn't discovered TT SOMETHING within me.
He knew that the way for me to discover that something within was to develop a
personal relations with the Savior; he also knew that trust builds
responsibility.
So in
essence he said to me , "Suzanne, you’re 15 now, and becoming a lovely
young lady, Pretty soon you will be making all you decisions. I believe
you do want to do the right things, and so I' going to
let you be responsible for what you wear. I want you to prayerfully consider
with the Lord each item that you buy, and I want you to only purchase those
things which you honestly feel are modest, wholesome, and pleasing to the Lord--those
things, which will help you look like a true daughter of God If you have any
doubts or questions, come to me an i811 be more than happy to talk to you about
it". This put a whole different light on things, It made responsible for
my own actions and accountable to the Lord for them. This was the start of MY
search for THAT SOMETHING, and as I have grown closer to the Savior thru study,
pondering, prayer, and living the gospel, the knowledge of my Divine Soul has
become more and more a reality to me. And I know the Lord has helped and led me
throughout my life, particularly in His selection of a mate for me.
Although Kent and I had initially
met nearly 2 years ago, we really sort of met and got together this last Summer
during some lectures by Truman Madsen at Pomona Church Education Week. Right
from he beginning it seemed as if there we an source guiding our relationship
than just ourselves. At the end of 2 weeks we knew that this wasn't going
to be your usual run-of-the-mill romance. In fact we both began to realize we
were growing in love and feelings of rightness about each other. Our
relationship and feelings evolved so naturally and smoothly we felt like it
must be almost like a fairy tale. At the end of 5 week we both
knew that this was the Will of the Lord, so I went to BYU for a semester and
Kent came here to blaze a trail for the both of us. In a way, our relationship
reminds me of the seed that Alma likens unto faith in the Book of Mormon, I
believe the Lord planted the seed of love in our hearts and as it grew and
swelled within us, althjough we didn't have a perfect knowledge of all things
did have a perfect knowledge in this was of the Lord. Now that the Lord has
brought us together and sealed us in His holy temple, it's up to Kent and I to
keep feeding and nourishing it so it will continue to grow and we can enjoy the
fruits of it. I am grateful to the Lord for Kent. He's a good man. Perhaps the
thing that has made me feel most loved b him is his constant desire to do the
right thing. I love and cherish him very much and together we can help each
other discover our individual Divine Potential.
I know
that this is the right place for us to be here in this ward. Kent and I
are very pleased with the warm reception you good people have given us, and
with all the heir and support Bishop Nichols has been. We are anxious to love
and be of service to you in any way that we can. I am delighted with my calling
as Mia Maid Advisor. They are all lovely girls and I know that we are going to
grow a lot with each other this year. I especially love the Mia Maid
age because that is when I began to discover THAT SOMETHING within me.
1978 October 1
Family Journal
Kent 32
just finished M.A. in school administration, thinking about future, Elders
Quorum President in Panorama City Ward, last month was V President of 1st
Gardiner Reunion, Sugar House Park, SLC, UT. Getting grey hairs.
Returned from Hawaii this Summer where Kent did some consulting at Punhow
School for the University of Hawaii.
Suzanne
23, Ward Young Women's President 2 year Laurel class advisor. Bishop and Stake
YW President said our YW was going the way it ought to be.
I am
taking:
1.
Introduction to literature, English 275. Teacher said I should definitely make English
my major and 2. Advanced Expository Writing, Glenna Rae l\who is my best
friend, I am currently working towards the YW Recognition through goal setting
and journal keeping. As one of my goals I'm finishing a quilt and redecorating
the bedrooms. The classes as another goal already achieved.
Chad 2.5
big for his age. Blond and blue eyed. best friend is Christ White, son of
Glenna Rae and Jim White. He blesses Christ church and the car at every
blessing and prayer. He is learning numbers and colors and loves Sesame Street
and drawing. He learned to ride a tricycle in August, took some swimming
lessons this '/Summer w his mother. Unsuccessful in potty training so
far. He is learning to play "nice" w Rachel even though he
spends time thinking about it in his room alone.
Rachel 8
months Brown eyes, brown haired, dimpled 4 toothed grins. Sat up at 6.5
months along. Crawled at 6 months. Panting "hee"ing little imp that
follows me from room to room, standing up beside me or holding on to my legs
walking behind me.
1978
Frightening Experience
I plunked
my brown and round, dimpled crawler, Rachel, on the rusted seat of a pedal-car,
handed my flaxen-haired two-year old boy sitting in the sand box a
miniature camel rhino, then headed back to the
kitchen to clean up the destruction of breakfast's aftermath. As I swung open
the wooden screen door to my red and white kitchen, my nostrils were assailed
by an unfamiliar chemical odor, which had hitherto been unnoticed.
Taking a puzzled step backwards, I took a deep whiff of backyard aroma and
entered the house. The pungent odor became more offensive as I passed the table
and chairs and neared the center of the room. I then experimentally strolled
through the gold living room towards the two-bedroom hallway and noted that the
smell, while still strong, was slightly fainter. Walking outside my comfortable
green stucco home, I breathed only street and cars, grass and flowers. I zeroed
in on my kitchen, determined to track this intrusion to its source. With sober
persistence, my nose inquisitively searched under the stove, through the
refrigerator and in the sink and trash. It seemed to emanate from the shelved
cupboards in the center of the kitchen. Facing the children playing quietly in
the backyard, I checked the food storage closet to my left, then turned to the
broom closet and canned-goods shelves on my right.
My eyes
filled up with water and my head spun from the now intolerable odor. My
puzzlement changed to definite alarm. It was not the odor of spoiled
food so I opened the broom closet fearfully. My brimming vision became
further obscured by clouds of white fumes. Panicked, I began removing
cleaning solvents, fire extinguishers, and aerosol cans as quickly as possible.
Then I saw it. There on the low shelf above the mop and toilet plunger was a
charred and vaporizing rag. The heat it generated was palpable even from my
short hovering distance. Grabbing the baby's bottle tongs, I gingerly deposited
the smoking specter in a deep metal pan and quickly immersed it in water.
Queasy-stomached and feeling weak-headed, I slumped on the backyard doorstep,
watching my oblivious children play, and pondering the weightiness of this
frightening experience. Fire! The threatening implications of its
destructive power was brought emphatically to my mind as I remembered another
experience with this devastating force, in
which an entire childhood world of play and nature was destroyed.
1978 Good Night December 18, 1978 English 305
“Hell-o Doctor?” the urgent tone in the man’s raspy voice alerted my fuzzy faculties into sleepy attention. “Doctor um I believe my wife is dying and I want to make sure that she doesn’t suffer any. Would you come out to the house to make sure that everything will be all right?” The voice was polite, apologetic, pleading. I sat on the edge of the narrow bed and mumbled to the voice in the dark. My eyes struggled to focus on the blurry face of the clock. 2 a.m. Laying the receiver down carefully, I turned to my companion who rolled towards me drowsily. “I’m taking Dr. G’s calls, and one of his patients wants me to come out. Be back soon, honey.” I kissed her. I hesitated a moment in the warm, inviting bed, then lunged towards the ancient chest of drawers to stumble into my clothes.
I grasped my way along the hall past the bedroom that five of my six little children shared. Pausing momentarily outside their door to listen to my babes’ sighs and gentle breathing, I mentally envisioned each one of my three daughters and smiled in the dark, my ribs pressing heavily on my chest. I am a rich man, I nodded to myself. I glanced at the tattered, soiled, black-and-white tweed couch that we (my children, my wife and I) knelt around for family prayers. Since we always said them before I had to leave in the morning and before they went to bed at night, and since we always exchanged kisses before those events, kisses and prayers had become inseparably paired in my young children’s minds.
The crickets chirped in time to the stars twinkling, and the old Dodge growled when I turned her over. I sputtered along the sparsely traveled streets towards South San Gabriel, thinking about the medical practice I had barely started in El Monte, just across from the old Greyhound depot on Ramona Blvd., near Tyler. A general practitioner (or an old-fashioned country doctor, as I liked to think of myself), I came in contact with many families, many situations, “Rosemary, what’s the matter?” I had asked a distraught woman in my office not long ago. “Well, my husband just asked me for some money, so he could fly to Denver to be with his girlfriend while I have our baby.” She sobbed in my arms. I was going to deliver her sixth child my heart ached for her as I thought of my own wife and children at home. Now I was going to help a man bury his sweetheart of nearly sixty years—that—that’s over half a century of living and loving together! I wondered what it would be like when I buried my wife.
The un-shaded porch light illuminated the well-groomed, small frame house---the type of small frame house that was built commonly in the late twenties. I was met at the door by a tall, bent old man, well into his eighties, who shuffled mutely ahead of me down a dark hall towards a dimly lit bedroom. I caught a glimpse, as I followed of worn, doily-covered furniture, neatly made quilted beds, frayed throw rugs, colorful glass figurines, and faded family portraits. A small night-light glowed beside a bed that enveloped a tiny, child-like figure of a fragile, withered old woman, lying in deep sleep.
I held her wrist and focused on the gnarled, attentive man hovering beside me. How can you tell? I asked reverently.
“I know,” he nodded gravely.
“How long has she been bedfast? I continued.
“Oh
It’s been three years now since Mama had her stroke.”
I was fascinated. “Who’s taken care of her?”
“I did,” he said simply, shrugging. Softly and haltingly, he told me how he had nursed and cared for her, done all the cleaning, the washing, the shopping, and the cooking. “And you’ve taken care of her all this time with no outside help?” I was incredulous. I looked from the gaunt, gnarled man beside me to the tiny, emaciated figure in the bed. “Oh, yes,” he smiled. Shyly, he picked up some papers that lay on the nightstand and showed me the pictures, the poems, and the doodling that he had made for her to pass the long hours. No works of art, these but works wrought by love; and in their simplicity they were beautiful. I was awed.
Our attention was drawn to the woman. Nothing visibly had happened but her noisy, irregular breathing had ceased. I probed for a heartbeat but felt nothing. The old man lightly touched my shoulder and I stepped respectfully aside. With hands that barely trembled, he gently closed her half-lidded eyes, and pressing wrinkled lips to withered cheek whispered, just audibly, “Good night sweetheart. I’ll see you in a little while
1979, January 17
I've always told Suzanne that she believes others but she doesn't believe me. Suzanne was pretty sick tonight. She wanted to go to M.I.A. even though she was ill. I said she shouldn't and she told me to bug off. She then said she might call her dad. I encouraged her to do so. She did. She said she wanted to go to the special event because she hadn't delegated very well. Her dad said "listen to your husband."
1979 January 21
Sick
Suzanne again looks terrible and had a temperature of 100 but she wants to hold a YW presidency meeting. I encouraged her not too. She said she would go even though sick. I went to priesthood and had Bishop Higley call her and suggest that she is sick and should stay home. He says: “Listen to your husband. If you don’t we’ll release you. We appreciate all things you have done for our youth but your family should come first.” When I got home Suzanne said I had embarrassed her, then smiled at me.
Suzanne again looks terrible and had a temperature of 100 but she wants to hold a YW presidency meeting. I encouraged her not too. She said she would go even though sick. I went to priesthood and had Bishop Higley call her and suggest that she is sick and should stay home. He says: “Listen to your husband. If you don’t we’ll release you. We appreciate all things you have done for our youth but your family should come first.” When I got home Suzanne said I had embarrassed her, then smiled at me.
1979 Rachel by Suzanne
My brown
and round, chortling imp
rocking
unsteadily on dimpled buttocks,
stretches
clasping hands and quivers wishing
that
desire had wings to fly her to me
Squealing, squirming, wordless mouthing
she
wrinkles up a three toothed grin
and
gleefully waves some chewed up string
triumphantly
over a brown silk head.
Then slyly stalking, awkward waddling
she
pounces my protruding foot
and fist
clenched dangling wail-fully mourning
bites my
near but innocent knee
Stamping
her foot in righteous wrath
She
grinds her teeth and spews forth bubbles
then
squeezing her middle and exploding giggles.
I carry
her warm and purring to bed.
March 19, 1979
Kent's birthday yesterday fell on a Sunday, and he celebrated it quietly serving the Lord and his family. He went to Priesthood, watched the kids while I went to a Young Women's Meeting. Then we went to Sunday school. He got the kids down for naps and went to an interview with the Stake President, came home, we all went to Sacrament meeting, and then after I made dinner and went to a fireside, he put the children in bed (Whew!) He's another year older and another year more appreciated and adored by his wife. The Lord has truly blessed me with great men in my life who love me, take care of me, encourage and help me and keep me in line. I know the Lord gave me to Kent, and together we do make a great team. He is strong where I am weak and vice versa. I appreciate his simple heart, faith, goodness, constancy, kindness, thoughtfulness, evenness, dependability, and helpfulness. He's a doer, not a hearer only, and is becoming the great patriarch of our family I knew he would become and married him for. I would choose him all over again, and go on choosing him again and again throughout eternity. We were meant for each other. We belong together. We fit like 2 halves of a puzzle, I pray that the Lord may bless me to become his queen and priestess both now and in the eternities. He is my eternal love and lover. May I live more worthy and grateful of this great blessing from the Lord a righteous husband and father to my children. Always yours, Suzanne Gardiner
Wednesday,
May 16, 1979
Letters
to the Editor,
Los Angeles Times,
Times Mirror Square,
Los Angeles Times,
Times Mirror Square,
Los
Angeles, Ca. 90053
Dear Editor:
I was
greatly disappointed in the article--feminist Mormons sneak out for
ERA"--which appeared in Sunday, May 6th View section of the Times. I feel
that it did not fairly or accurately represent The Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints' view on the Equal Rights Amendment and women. In 1977, the
First Presidency of the Church issued the following statement:
"From
its beginnings, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter- day Saints has
affirmed the exalted role of woman in our society.
"In 1812, when women's organizations were little known, the Prophet Joseph Smith established the women's organization of the Church, the Relief Society, as a companion body of the Priesthood. The Relief Society continues to function today as a vibrant, worldwide organization aimed at strengthening motherhood and broadening women's
learning
and involvement in religious, compassionate, cultural, educational, and
community pursuits.
"In Utah, where our Church is headquartered, women received the right to vote in 1870, fifty years before the Nineteenth Amendment to the Constitution granted the Right nationally.
"There have been, injustices to women before the law and in society generally. These we deplore. “There are additional rights to which women are entitled. "However, we firmly believe that the Equal Rights Amendment is not the answer.
"While
the motives of its supporters may be praiseworthy, ERA as a blanket
attempt to help women could indeed bring them far. more restraints and
repressions for fear it will even stifle many God-given feminine
instincts.
"It
would strike at the family, humankind's basic institution.
ERA would
bring ambiguity and possibly invite extensive litigation. "Passage of
ERA, some legal authorities contend could nullify many accumulated
benefits to women in present statutes. "i.e. recognize men and
women as equally important before the Lord, but with differences
biologically, emotionally, and in other ways.
"ERA,
we believe, does not recognize these differences. There
are
better means for giving women, and men, the rights they deserve."
I
appreciated the remarks by former Utah state Rep. Georgia Petersen,
particularly her comments that the fundamental differences in opinion between
ERA supporters and the Mormon Church are really "not so far apart".
I felt
that it was unfortunate that all of the other women quoted in the
article do not seem to really understand the position of the Mormon Church. I
think that it would have been appropriate for the Times to have interviewed
Barbara B. Smith, the general Relief Society President of the Church of Jesus
Christ of Latter-day saints. In an interview three years ago she said:
"In
my considered judgment the Equal Rights Amendment is so
broad
that it is inadequate, inflexible, and value; so all-encompassing that it
is non definitive. The blanket approach of the Equal Rights Amendment
is, in my opinion, a confused step backward in time, instead of a clear
stride forward into the future. It will
create
endless litigation in the courts in which legal decisions are made which
might create circumstances harmful to the solidarity of the family and the
optimum protection of children. And because it does not define some
differences between men and women, I think it might be very destructive to
families.
"I
will always support--as I believe the Relief Society and
the
Church have always done--those pieces of legislation that improve
and
protect a woman's right to development of her full potential as
a
contributing member of society.
"I
want women to have social, financial, and legal rights; I want each woman to be
a valued individual, creative, and with many options as to how she will
develop. I want to see a woman become the best woman, the best citizen,
responsible and participating both in her own country and in the kingdom of
(God, the best homemaker, the greatest individual she is
capable 01' becoming. I want her to be self-confident, trained, a
great participator. and partner in life, but I wane to be sure that the laws
enacted will provide for these things to happen. The Equal Rights
Amendment is not the way."
It would have
been worthy for the Times to have noted that the Church has recently
constructed in Nauvoo, Illinois, the largest monument ever constructed to
women. 1+ illustrates the various stewardship and responsibilities of women in
a series of thirteen statues placed in a garden setting. Florence Hansen,
sculptor of two of the thirteen pieces, believes that the purpose of the
monument is to "portray to the, world the stand our Church takes concerning
women; to honor women and contributions to society; and to heighten their
aspirations as they relate to each concept."
I believe
that there is no other Church upon the face of the earth that gives women
greater opportunity for service, growth, and development than the Mormon Church
does. It is q great champion of womanhood, freedom, individuality, and
development.
I feel
that you did a-grave disservice to your subscribers when you printed
that slanted and sensationalist article. It was a discredit to your newspaper.
I would hope that in the future you would be much more selective, wise, honest,
and fair in the material you present--for that is, after all, your primary
responsibility to your readers. May you live worthy of that trust.
1979 Monday June 4
Dear
Dad,
Yesterday,
Sunday during the Sacrament meeting in Mark's ward (which was a little before
12 noon) I was thinking about you, and that the greatest blessing in my life is
that I have a priesthood father who loves the Lord. I remember what you
said at Jim's setting apart before his mission that you had delivered Jim,
blessed him, baptized him, ordained him to every office in the priesthood, and
even set him apart as a missionary, but that you did not want to marry him
because you did not have that authority to seal him - you wanted him to go to
the temple and be sealed by one who held the authority to do so. I
thought to myself how grateful I am to have a father who wants what the Lord
wants more than what he wants - and the tears sprang to my eyes and I was
filled with the Spirit of the Lord and most overpowering feeling of love and
warmth. I realize after you called last night that the Lord was bearing
witness to my spirit about that special event which was happening to you in the
temple at the same time. I know that the Lord has blessed you for your
righteous desires. And me for having you for a father.
Indeed the greatest witness of the gospel in my life has been your life. I confess that I have been a very proud and weak individual when it comes to living the gospel. I have frequently questions and doubts nearly every precept , commandment and principle but when I have you here always come to my mind and I remember the phrase "by their fruits ye shall know them." And I would think to myself, of the gospel can produce someone like my father then I want to stay true to it so I can become like that too.
I have come to realize that the whole object of our existence on the earth is to yield our hearts to the spirit of the Lord so that we want what He wants...that we yield not just our hearts but our minds, time, the development of our talents, out means, everything to His will, rather than our will. Of course his will is our exaltation and ultimate happiness, but we can not see the whole picture as he sees it;, therefore we must trust him and the blessings come after the trial of our faith. Suffering comes when we want that which is contrary to His righteousness.
I have been under a great trial lately...the last 6 months or so. There is nothing that I would like to do more than go to school full time (even part time, even 1 class!) and learn to write...develop my intellectual capacities. I have an ache inside to learn everything and express myself so bad that I can hardly stand it. I find housework so un-fulfilling, the emotional demands of Kent and the children almost more than I can bear. Yet when I pray about it the Spirit of the Lord says no that is not the way, or now is not the time. There are other lessons to learn a time and season for all things. When I found Kent I shed many tears and asked the Lord to send him away - let me finish my schooling, get some more experience, self-confidence, but then as now the Spirit whispered to my raging soul" Peace, be still."...I wish that life were not so hard - but I know that it is only because I can not see afar off and am not sufficiently humble. Even I would not change the Eternal Fates if I could. For I know that my Heavenly Father only wants my ultimate happiness and welfare (you taught me that) and only by learning , doing and wanting what He wants will I live a life of "memories, not regrets" as you say. I want to live my life so that 109 years form now 100 years from now or 1,000 years from now I'll be glad I made the choices that I did.
My patriarchal blessing tells me that I shall find a joy in being a mother that can not be had any other way, that with regard to my husband that the Lord has great things that he wants me to do and he wants me to be his handmaiden. I believe that and I am selfish enough to not want to deny myself any blessing. It also tells me that trials and tribulations will help me grow and that through my faithfulness I'll become strong in living the gospel. It also specifies that my special gifts are knowledge, wisdom and understanding and that I am to use these gifts in teaching the gospel to others. God grant that I may do so. Thank you for your example.
I am
always your loving daughter
Suzanne.
March
1980
Dear ….
I've
thought quite a bit about your question regarding what I consider the crux of
"Mormonism" to be and like to share with you what I believe it
is. To me it is its concept of the God and man and their relationship.
When the
young and unsophisticated Joseph saw the vision of God he Father and His Son in
the grove near his home, he saw two distinct personages. With this great
revelation and subsequent knowledge came the restoration and bringing together
of several great truths.' Among them are:
1). God
does exist and is actively concerned about the affairs of men ( is neither
"dead' nor absent);
2). He is
a glorified and perfected being (not a vague metaphysical force for good);
3). His
Son Jesus Christ is in His express image and glory, and is a separate
personality (not one in being as most theologians unitedly and illogically
suppose, but one in purpose)',
4). We
are all the spiritual sons and daughters of God, created in His image (not
everlastingly inferior creatures created by his good pleasure out of nothing
solely to honor and worship Him)'; and
5). We
have the capacity to become like Him through the power of His Son's atonement
and our individual obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel. (not
saved or damned by His caprice of will through no act of ours). In short, the
vitality of Mormonism (or the essence of true Christianity) lies in the worship
of a (of truly worth worshipping and emulating--for lie is the idealization of
all the highest aspirations, attributes, and capacities latent within Man and
Woman. In comprehending His divine nature we more fully comprehend our own
potential, as well as come to understand the great worth and potential of every
soul who has ever been born, is being born, and shall yet be
born. Perhaps in no other way do we become more godly or appreciate
what it is to be like God, than in using our talents, strains, and efforts to
lift and succor one another--particularly our own families.
Let's
analyze some of the philosophical implications of this anthropomorphizing?
Well, my lovely cockatoo, what manner of creature do you suppose Jesus was (and
is), you are, I am, everyone is, was and will be? If religion is not the study
of man-what he is, what he is capable of becoming, and his relationship to
others--can you think of something it should rather be? Yet that seems to
be what the Christianity of the Dark Ages evolved into--something rather than
man-oriented when the theologians no longer conceived of God as a glorified,
perfected being. The simple doctrine of an anthropomorphic God found in the old
and new Testaments was corrupted and lost by the meaningless jargon of the
creeds (adopted at Nicaea that developed out of the intellectual mysticism and
confusion of the fourth century And these creeds and beliefs have largely
continued to this day. You know the creeds: "God is a spirit, eternal
independent, infinite and immutable, who is present
Everywhere,
who seeth all things and governs the universe”…and “He is supreme intelligence,
who has neither body or figure, or color and living cannot fall under the
senses…” Catholic Church
There is
but one and true sod, everlasting, without body or parts, of infinite power,
wisdom and goodness the maker and preserver of all things, visible and
invisible; and in the unity of this Godhead there are three persons, of one
substance, power eternity, the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost..."
(Methodist
Church)
is but one living and true God, who is infinite in being and perfection, a most
pure spirit, invisible, without body, parts or passions, immutable, immense,
eternal, incomprehensible, almighty, most wise, most holy, most free, most
absolute, working all things according to the counsel of his immutable and
righteous will, for his own glory;....with all most just and terrible in his
judgments; hating all sin, and who will by no means clear the guilty."
(Presbyterian Church).
How can
anyone he expected to understand, much less to love and be loved by, such an
incomprehensible God as the above tenets would lead him to worship? One would
think that the explanations that have developed out of these creeds would he
beneath the dignity of ministers of the gospel to promote.
Ludwig
Feuerbach considered such a conception of Deity to be "monstrous",
anti-man, and inconsistent with the real essence of Christianity (and life!) To
elect it was inconceivable" (and it is) In an attempt to analyze the God
believed in by Luther, Feuerbach described it as a "thought-being"
who was the sum of all our harshest tendencies and feelings, while the
incarnate Christ was the revelation of (God to man of ills will in terms that
man could understand One may ask: How can I honor then Father and seek to
become like him (even the
pronoun
him is appropriate) without becoming unlike the anthropomorphic Christ) whom
the theologians say we can properly adore and worship and honor? How can two
such broad extremes be "one God"? If such an inconceivable corruption
of Deity is not contrary to the laws of nature, it is most assuredly contrary
to reason.
Certainly
Carlyle's jibe of an absentee God, "sitting idle ever since the first
Sabbath on the outside of His universe and seeing it go,"--is true of St
Augustine and his brother monks' corruption of deity. Perhaps it was not that
God had deserted man so much as it was that man was no longer -capable of
comprehending God.. ."How much did these men know of that greater revelation
of God, the book of nature, which flooded, the last century with light?
Interpreting Deity, as perforce they must, by the content of their experience,
think what a narrow emanation of the life of the Dark Ages their conception had
to be!
"What
of His physical personality, considered from the standpoint of ascetics--men
who devised the human body as viler than the rags of a beggar? "What of
His intellectual personality, interpreted by an age dogmatic and un-scientific
to the last degree? What of Bus social and moral personality, mirrored in the
imaginations of men, whose highest social ideal was to shirk all contact with,
and responsibility for the world, by living in caves, convents, and
monasteries?
"Is.it
any wonder then, that when men began to study science, when they went direct to
nature for their ideals, when they read od's purpose concerning man by studying
man himself, especially in his relation to social evolution,--is it any wonder
that they turned away from the artificial conception promulgated by
theologians? Was not this idea of God, after all, only an intensified
conception of the medieval monarch; whose approbation was to be gained, and
whose anger appeased, through the mediation of court favorites (saints, angels,
the Virgin Mary, the Son of God), who might be bribed or cajoled into pleading
the sinner's c au s e?
"Such
a conception could not co-exist with ideals attained through the larger
generalizations of life. To find pleasure in the servile prostration of
multitudes is not now conceived a noble trait even in kings; les therefore, in
the King of kings.
"To
make life and death dependent on the mere caprice of human will, we have now
come to believe unjust and dangerous, and accordingly have substituted the
reign of human law; in the same way, eternal life has come to be conceived as
dependent, not upon the favor or anger Deity (in the medieval sense), but upon
divine law (i.e. the laws of the universe).
"But
in this shifting of the ultimate Source of volition and responsibility, a great
mistake was made. instead of stripping from the Christ or Bible-type of Deity
all the vagaries and artificialities in which he had been clothed during the
Dark Ages, and then re-clothing Him according to the ideals of modern life,
scientists overthrew the type itself; and after awhile theologians caught up by
substituting a vague generalization--first fathered by Buddha and afterwards
developed by Plato--under the mistaken notion that such a concession was
necessary in order to patch up the breach between science and religion. I
repeat that a great mistake was made, for after all, what type of creative
intelligence other than the man-type, can the race possible come in contact
with? Why, then throw away the teachings of experience, from some fancy that it
may be inadequate, and build upon non-experience, which we know is inadequate?
The point
of the foregoing discussion, so far as the present volume is concerned, is
this: Mormonism, though starting as it did, in the blaze of the scientific age,
yet took for its object of worship the Bible-type of God; but it did not load
itself down with the incubus of medieval interpretation.
"Like
Christ, God is conceived as the perfected man; but as to the meaning of
"perfected", no theologian of the past, however wise, in the
estimation of Christendom, can have a voice: each man knows God to the extent
that he has grown like Him; and he has grown like Him to the extent that he as
discovered and obeyed law.
"Mormonism
thus finds in life, not metaphysical speculation, its commentary upon
Scripture. Accordingly, let the reader come to this book, not with the
pre-judgment that he is to witness the setting up again of a conception which
has fallen a hundred times in previous polemical battles; but rather with the
idea that Mormonism may have something new and entirely/worthy of modern
thought. For however true of the Augustinian conception, Carlyle's jibe....has
no meaning whatever in the conception believed in by Latter-day
Saints."-A
Let us
consider the accomplishments of modern “puny” and "mere morta1"
anthropomorphic man in just the last decade or so: "his computers store
and impart information that overwhelms the imagination, and his lasers give
light to the lunar landscape or remove tiny cataracts from the human eye. He
predicts and, in some measure, controls the weather. He has unleashed the atom
to consume the world or irrigate the waste places and run the faltering human
heart. He walks the wide expanse of space, builds his own small planets and
dwells within, them for months at a time, traverses the moon's surfaces while
millions of others throughout the world watch and hear it all happen. He maps
the face of Mars and Venice in minute detail, hurls missiles into the sun and
onward everlastingly into space.
"Technologically
speaking, in other words, man has now attained a certain divinity,
accomplishing wonders many people once assumed would be impossible for any God
'handicapped' with physical limitations. In the words of Archibald
MacLeish...'ours is one of the great ages in history...an age in which the old
impossible heroic myths have all come true.' (when We Are Gods?
Saturday Review, Oct 1967, p.22)."
In the realm of social evolution in recent years, women and minority groups, so long sup-pressed and underrated (and no wonder, considering the tyrannical gods Most of world has paid homage to!)have made great strides in emancipation and recognition. Our consciousness has been raised concerning the underprivileged and oppressed all over the world, and war is no longer perceived as glorious and heroic, hut as. the horrible and destructive evil that it really is. 'L
J
Joseph.
Smith has written:
“Man possesses
the faculty to increase in knowledge, wisdom and power.
'He has
subdued the earth and rides upon the air and on the seas.
"He
has harnessed the lightings and the cataracts and made them
serve
him.
"His
inventive get1us has brought the forces of nature to obey him.
“He has
discovered hidden secrets of the universe.
He builds
great structures reaching into the heavens, and improves and beautifies his
surroundings.
“He has
taken advantage of the knowledge of past ages and by his observation and
adaptation has increased his knowledge and power.
"He
has developed to a high degree the gift of reason.
"He
has inherited the gift of speech and conveys his thoughts to his fellow man in
a complex language, both written and oral.
"He
has learned to send his thoughts out upon the ethereal waves almost instantly
to all parts of the earth.
"Neither
land nor sea stands in the way of his communications.
"In
his higher civilization he possesses an esthetic nature. He loves the beautiful
and appreciates things lovely and artistic. By these qualities he is able to
touch the hearts of his fellow men and sway them in their emotions. All of
these powers are increased as he draws nearer to his Creator and Father. When
he forgets the source of all these qualifications and turns from his God, then
are these blessings impaired and he sinks in ignorance and sin. Without the
guidance of the Divine Presence, whence he comes, he becomes a slave to
savagery and debased ignorance, for it is the Spirit of truth which enlightens
and sustains.”
Our
spiritual and moral aspirations and advancement has often seemed less focused
and ambitions than those in the domains of science and the arts. I
do not in the least join the ranks of orthodox theologians who, with
self-righteous distain, look upon the desperate search for knowledge, power,
wealth and liberation, as well as the indulgence in spiritualism, unlawful
sex, and drugs,-- as wholly hedonistic, permissive, and decadent Truman
Madsen) The end view the efforts of humanity to find self-realization and
fulfillment as largely misguided, and watch with sympathy (if not empathy!) the
attempts of some to be "turned on as but distorted concern for godly
power, and often a sincere desire to find escape or meaning in the very real
pain, frustration, terror, and alienation this life can have: Surely a large
part of the blame for the moral/spiritual fusion lies with theology itself. or
the only type of God that can have any meaning (and hope) whatsoever for man is
a man-type of God and when the theologians varied from the anthropomorphic God
found in the simple teachings of the Bible, perhaps considering it
too puerile or blasphemous (and both are utterly ridiculous!), or blinded by a
too-long tradition of metaphysical vagueness, they did humanity a grave dis-
service. As Marion Evans (Eliot), Feuerbach, and others would likely have
understood, the only conceivable experiences of man are human experiences;
therefore, the only conceivable God to man must be a glorified, perfected Man.
A man-type of God is the only type of God with whom we can identify, worship,
and emulate.
"The
only conception that any people can possible have of Deity is one which comes
within their mental horizon-- the horizon bounded by their experience into His
personality they will think their highest and noblest ideals. What they love
most, fear most, admire most, will somehow be found among his attributes. To
the extent, and in the direction, that they are civilized and enlightened, to
that extent and in the-direction will lie be idealized.
It was
therefore a profound remark of our behavior, that to know God is to have
eternal life. Io one can know Him save as he becomes like Him. To know him
absolutely, is therefore to be perfect as He is perfect, which of course could
be nothing else than eternal life.
"By
the same reasoning, to know him in part is to be like Him in part, and therefore
to be saved in part; or to generalize, we are saved (i.e. we have eternal life
assured unto us) no faster than we learn to know -god; in other words, no
faster than we become like Him.'''
"But
becoming like him implies a progressive means of getting ideas about Him. Let
us take time to see how this thought works out in practice.
"To
know (God is to have adequate notions of His personality in, say, five
different aspects: physically, intellectually, socially, morally, and
spiritually. Manifestly these notions can come to man only as God reveals them.
The germ ideas respecting his personality are to be 'found in Scripture; but
these are meaningless, save as man thinks into them the content of his
experience. The real revelation of God to man is, therefore, too and in that
which gives man experience: in life--nature--law.
'If a man
would have the noblest ideal of (God's physical personality, let him master all
that is known of physiology and hygiene--and conform his own life thereto; if
he would realize his intellectual personality let him become familiar with the
Elements of intellect in man, then calculate what must be the intellect that
could create and control a solar system with all the myriad forms of life and
being therein manifested; if he would know God's social personality let him
study sociology, determine what qualities in man lead to love and harmony: in
the home, in the state, in the nation, in the world,--and then consider that
God has so mastered these that heaven (ideal social harmony) is His eternal
habitat; and so of God's moral and spiritual personalities: to the extent that
man discovers and lives moral and spiritual law,--to that extent he will know
God.
"It
follows therefore, from the very nature of things)that the honest man's conception
of God is a progressively growing ideal. As day by day, he discovers law
(truth), and especially as he conforms his life to law (obeys truth), so must
his ideal of the ordainer of law charge...." and ecclesiasts
who would presume to lay an embargo on Hi5 soul by pronouncing what God is or
is not, are merely ascribing their own limitations and imperfections when they
declare that he cannot be anthropomorphic. It is their own self-revulsion that
makes a man-type of God seem repulsive.
It is in
seeing upward that we really see inward. "No being can thoroughly learn
himself without knowing more or less the things of God; neither can any being
learn and understand the things of God without learning himself; he must learn
himself, or he never can learn God.0 It is in comprehending the nature of God
that we more fully comprehend our own natures, and in comprehending our own
natures, we more fully comprehend his. As essential as a correct notion of God
is a correct notion of man himself as a child of God, possessing all the
attributes of Divinity in embryo. The man whose faith is to remove mountains
(of sin) "must feel himself...differing in degree, but not in kind from
his Father in Heaven, potentially free as a moral agent, and actually free, to
the extent that he has emancipated himself from sin; capable of becoming
perfect as God is perfect (Matthew 5:k8)."
The
greatest freedom. is the freedom to become This is the whole intent of the
gospel of Jesus Christ. Truth is knowledge of things as they really are, were,
and are to com; Gospel truths (divine laws and ordinances) are knowledge of who
we really are, were, and are capable of becoming And as we apply them, we
unlock, enliven, or "free" our divine potential. Faith then, is no
blind leap, no desperate gullibility, no "sense of being crucified on the
paradox of the absurd (Kierkegaard’s expression); rather, "it is the
expression of the inner self in harmony with a whole segment of one's prior
experiences." Faith in God as an exalted "Man of Holiness” ‘is the
striving after of our own highest ideals, noblest attributes, and fullest
potential.
Christ
was not only a manifestation to man of God as He really is, but He is also a
manifestation of what man may actually become. In Him was the law when we keep
His commandments, we too become manifestations of the
Divine". "If any man will do his will (the will of the Father's), he
shall know of the doctrine?." taught the Savior (John 7:17). We become our
own proof and witness of the gospel's verity. True knowledge is a state of
being.
To know
God is to be like God and be perfect as he is perfect. Eternal life is the type
and quality of life that tie lives, and immortality is an extension of--not a
replacement of--the same habit patterns we form in mortality. In contemplating
the potent statement "The kingdom of God is within you" (Luke)
17:21), one realizes that the varied kingdoms of glory (that we inherit in the
here-
after)
are the natural outcome of the kinds of beings we have become and are on the
way to becoming here.'
The
gospel of Jesus Christ is much more than just a system of laws. Its whole
intent and purpose is the advancement of man.' Man is a progressive, evolving
being "with a mind capable of instruction, and a faculty which may be
enlarged in proportion to the heed and diligence given to the light
communicated from heaven to the intellect the nearer man approaches perfection,
the clearer are his views, and the greater his enjoyments, till he has overcome
1he evils of his life and lost every desire for sin,"....and arrives at a
point in faith where he achieves the glory and presence of God. "But we
consider that this is a station to which no man ever arrived in a
moment...." Our very relationship to such an exalted and advanced Being
puts us in a position to progress and advance as well.' Even the great Einstein
concluded that "the harmony of natural law reveals an intelligence of such
superiority that compared to it all the scientific thinking and acting of human
beings is an entirely insignificant reflection." (From The World As I See
It, as quoted by Mark E. Peterson.) "Just as one may, with sufficient
commitment, study, and sensitivity, gradually comprehend the genius of an
Einstein, a Beethoven, or a da Vinci, he may also come to comprehend more and
more fully the greatest creative mind o± all, that of the Creator
himself."
In
pondering the nature of man, the psalmist queried thousands of years
ago--"What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that
thou visitest him,(Psalms 8:4 It was almost as if
in direct answer to this that the Lord underscored His own purpose and
existence to Moses: "For this is my work and my glory, to bring to pass
the immortality and eternal life of man." (Pearl of Great Price, Moses
1:39) He also emphasized what He must surely considers the greatest, most
demanding and fulfilling of all careers – parenthood.
What
greater aspiration can a man have than to choose as a role model an
all-powerful, all-loving God-personage, who—of all the titles he has earned and
deserves-prefers most to be addressed as simply “Father”? And what more exalted
view of woman can there be--for was there, will there, ever be a father without
a mother9 The ultimate fulfillment then of either sex lies in union with the
other; and if either sex is diminished or suppressed, then the whole is
lessened "Neither is the man without the woman, neither the woman without
the man, in the Lord," wrote Paul. God established the basic equality of
the sexes when He ordained that. neither men nor women can attain the greatest
eternal heights without the other. "In the heavens, are parents
single?" penned the poet-prophetess Eliza R. Snow, "No, the thought
makes reason stare!/ Truth is reason, truth eternal/ Tells me I've a mother
there...."
"Mormonism"
is no new religion to appear in an already befuddled world nor even an
aberration of already existing forms. It is as old as man (who may, after all,
have had no.. beginning). The God who appeared to Joseph Smith
is the
self-same (God who walked and talked with Adam, spoke face to face with Enoch,
Moses, and the brother of Jared (see Book of Mormon, Ether), and was
the friend of Abraham Joseph Smith was able to teach quite clearly and
scripturally: "It is the first principle of the gospel to know for a
certainty the character of God, and to know that we may converse with Him as
one man converses with an other, and that He was once a man like us; yea that
Father of us all dwelt on an earth the same as Jesus Christ himself did; and I
will show it from the
Bible...."
The
exalted-man promise exalts God. Which God is more worthy of worship and
emulation: A od who has never suffered weakness--or one who having suffered
all, has conquered all, and enables others to do the same one whose nature
forbids peers--or one who desires them?....One who would make us everlastingly
inferior creatures--or one who would make us co-creators, and give us not only
all that He has, but all that He is? One who would save or damn us by His
caprice of will or good pleasure--or one who would not only save us all, but
establish laws whereby we might advance like unto Himself? Consider the empathy
with which God the Father must view our own struggles, for he has journeyed the
entire course, knows every stone, pitfall, and obstacle. He has groped his way
in storm and darkness, swum the rivers, traversed the barren desert and the
teeming wilderness, found at times his places of respite, and surmounted the
final peaks into the sunlight. In righteousness he has fought the good fight and
prevailed, vanquished every foe, attained that prize which surpassed understanding."
It is now his work and. glory to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life
of His posterity. He is the personification of love and sacrifice in ways
challenging to fathom,' yet so very natural and worthy of worship a emulation.
In contemplating His exalted nature, one is led to say like Charles W..
Penrose:
"The
person whom I worship I acknowledge as my Father. Through Him I may learn to
understand the secrets and mysteries of eternity, those things -which never had
a beginning and-will never have an end. He has ascended above all. things after
descending below all things. He has fought his way up from the depths up to the
position He now occupies. He holds it by virtue of His goodness, of His might,
of His majesty, of His power. He occupies that position by virtue of being in
perfect harmony with all that is right, and true, and beautiful, and glorious,
and progressive. He is the embodiment and expression of the eternal principles
of right. He has won that position by His own exertions, by His own
faithfulness, by His own righteousness."
I have
seen no vision, heard no voice, but I know that these things are true. I know
that od the Father is a perfected and exalted Man, and that the whole intent of
the gospel plan is designed for our fullest potential, "which is eternal
progression and the possibility of godhood. “I know that Jesus the Christ was
the only begotten son of God in the flesh, and that His mission and atonement
was to bridge the gap between God and man, so that we--spiritually begotten
sons and daughters of God-might also mature into manifestations of the Divine I
know that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God because I know that the things he
taught and revealed are scriptural, philosophically sound, and true, and I
appreciate the clarity and greater understanding they give to the Savior's
gospel. And I know that this church--The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day
Saints--is the Lord's true and living church upon the earth today, possessing
the "keys of the kingdom", and guided by a prophet who is like unto
Moses', yet so right and needed in this generation in time. I love the gospel
of Jesus Christ as I love my own life--for by it, and through it, my life has
meaning, direction, and purpose. very fiber of my being seems to cry out in
witness, and the greatest desire of my life is to live increasingly more true
to
it. -
I know
that these things are true and so will you. In fact, there is no excuse for you
not to eventually come to know their truth. If you are skeptical of all
this--study the life of Jesus the Christ. Make Him your "spiritual
father" in all things He is living divine proof of the eternal and divine
capacity of man. If you will walk in paths He has ordained, you will become
proof as well. I hope that you will strive to gain a personal relationship with
the Savior, so that in understanding His divine nature, you come to more fully
comprehend and desire your own as a son of God.' You, who considered becoming a
Catholic priest because you were enthralled by the absurd idea of making
god" out of mere bread and wine (emblems of his flesh and blood) ! Why do
you not make "alive" the god of your own being--by partaking of the
eternal principles and divine power that He has?
It will
not be easy. Nothing of great value and attainment ever is. "If you are to
find it, you must pay more by a thousand fold than you ever paid before, reach
farther than you have ever reached, use more courage, and self-discipline than
you ever knew you had but at the end of all that comes the promise...."
It's not too late. Do not be discouraged and do not give up. Conversion is not
an event; rather it is the spiritual maturation process that begin with where
you are and leads to endless possibilities with in my heart I pray that the
eternal Father of us both will bless you, guide you, enlighten you, enlarge
you, and bring you to both know and become like Him. If I were truly a friend,
would I desire anything less? May you ever grow wise and rich in being, my
dear, and through you, may others--especially your family—become--so.
Best
Wishes--always,
Suzanne
Gardiner
1980 August 10
Dear
Family
We are
very happy in our new home in Saugus. It's great. We just wish that we weren't
so far from everyone so please come out and see us, go swimming, go to Magic
Mountain, have a Bar-B-Q or just chew the fat.
Eric is getting to stall and alert. He loves his Johnny Jump up. and is happiest when he can stand up grab something with his hands, or gnaw on your knuckle. I think he's teething.
Chad just
got some cowboy boots, guns and holsters that he is real proud of. He's also
really into dinosaurs. He likes to play with toy dinosaurs, but he's very glad
the real ones are all dead.
Rachel still dearly loves her blanket and she smothers Eric with her motherly concern. She likes her "Bompas" (Grandpa's and Grandma's) , ice cream and pudding and is brown as a berry from the sun. Both she and Chad just finished swimming classes and swim almost every day of the week.
Suzanne cut all her hair off and people say she looks like Marie Osmond. She'd the visiting teaching supervisor in the ward and is learning persistence and humility. She won the 2nd place Award for a poem she wrote in the Santa Clarity Stake Relief Society creative Stake Fair. She is planning to start taking piano, lessons again this fall.
Kent is
the Seventies Group leader and Ward Mission leader in the ward. It is
really a challenge but he is learning and growing a lot. He just finished the
brick wall around our house and the patio roof cover. He's next project are to
decide how best to invest a little bit of savings, take a script writing class
and start producing filmstrips. We have just started a genealogy class in
the ward and are leaving tomorrow to attend the church's World Conference on
Records. Grandma and Grandpa Gardiner are watching the children (Chad and
Rachel)
Love to All
Kent
Suzanne
Chad,
Rachel, and Eric.
1980
Kent and Suzanne move into the Hyssop Home on 27712 Hyssop Saugus, with Chad and Rachel.
1980 March 24
Eric Birth
Eric is born in the San Gabriel hospital. At first I had wanted to stall so Kent could see the birth but that lasted only a few minutes. Very quickly my one consuming interest became pushing the baby out and getting it over with. I soon got the knack of bearing down, and as soon as the head poked through, dad had HIM out. We were all elated: me, because I think I had secretly wanted a boy, and my dad, because he had delivered his own grandson on his own birthday—March 26, 1980, Wednesday. Kent walked in not 5 minutes after Eric’s birth, while they were cleaning me up. He took pictures of the baby and all of us. Eric was born at 9:15.pm.
1980
Kent and Suzanne move into the Hyssop Home on 27712 Hyssop Saugus, with Chad and Rachel.
1980 March 24
Eric Birth
Eric is born in the San Gabriel hospital. At first I had wanted to stall so Kent could see the birth but that lasted only a few minutes. Very quickly my one consuming interest became pushing the baby out and getting it over with. I soon got the knack of bearing down, and as soon as the head poked through, dad had HIM out. We were all elated: me, because I think I had secretly wanted a boy, and my dad, because he had delivered his own grandson on his own birthday—March 26, 1980, Wednesday. Kent walked in not 5 minutes after Eric’s birth, while they were cleaning me up. He took pictures of the baby and all of us. Eric was born at 9:15.pm.
1980
Eric
Eric James Gardiner was born March 26, 1980.
He has blond hair and blue eyes. He stands 34 inches tall and weighs 30 pounds:
he is a well-proportioned infant. He likes doggies and kitties, being around
other children, candy, bottles of milk, turning on lights, his blanket, his
older brothers little cars, wearing his big sister's shoes, fixing the car with
daddy, helping mommy fix dinner, "Sesame Street", talking
things apart. He dislikes being shut out, being told to "go away",
being changed or dressed, being given milk in a glass instead of a bottle or
having a favored object ken away from him.
Eric Birth
Mom: Wednesday, March 26, 1980 today I went shopping with the children at Puente Hills Mall. We got daddy and grandpa presents as we planned to jointly celebrate their birthdays that evening at the Browns. We also got Rachel some everyday shoes (that ended up lasting all of three days she wore them out dragging her feet while riding her horsey). It was extremely exhausting going up and down escalators about 20 times, getting drinks, going to the potty...Chad threw himself down and bawled in Sears because I got Rachel shoes and not him...We went out the wrong exit on the wrong level and had to climb some stairs and walk half a mile (so it seemed to me) to get to the car. The children were hungry and thirsty and tired (and so was I) and Rachel fell asleep on the way to the Browns. I begged them to eat lunch quickly so we could all take naps. I slept on mom and dad's bed for a couple of hours but the children didn't sleep at all.... in fact, Rachel poured out 2 bottles of my Escelsis make up all over my new robe, the rug, and a tray in the girls' room during "nap time".
When I got up the children "helped me" wrap birthday presents for daddy and grandpa and frost an angel food cake with jam and cream for their birthday celebrations. They had fun giving my dad his presents and were anxious for Kent to come so they could give him his. They carried them around the house until I took the one Rachel had away when she threw it over the banister. I found the one Chad had with the ribbon off and partially opened.
I was bone tired and ached. It was hard to move around and I lay down frequently reading some short stories from a schoolbook of David's. Just after I finished the cake (about 5:15pm) and dad left to go perform proxy sealings at the temple (and while Chad watched Sesame Street), I called GlennaRae to find out how she was doing and give her my folks phone #. I also called Grandma Breiten about making me some pillows. Then I went to lie down again with David's book (Rachel came too). Mother came in to tell me that David called from dad's office (he cleans it on Wednesday) to say that Kent had called there after being unable to get in touch with me here because the phone was busy. He'd found out that they had poured the cement that day for our patio in the back so he was going to stay at the house and keep it wet. I was extremely disappointed not only because I had looked forward to seeing him and had planned a birthday party for him...but also because I had also begun to wonder if the baby might come that night.
I'd become increasingly aware of some light contractions coming more and more frequently and harder. I hoped they would stop if I rested (they didn't). I had told GR that I couldn't have the baby that night I was too tired and had too many things planned. I thought about dad at the temple 'till late and Kent not here, and nonessential things like the children's Easter Party and our Music Center tickets on Friday, and the Reed's sealing Saturday morning and prayed, "Please Lord, not 'till Saturday night." Then when I knew it wouldn't wait 'till Saturday, I changed it to...."how about after dad's sealing session and Kent gets here". But somehow the Lord has his way, through the birth of babies, of putting all things in life in their proper perspective of importance. I wondered how I would feel if Kent missed his birthday party AND the baby, but knew I would probably forgive him since he was just trying to take care of everything. We had almost a $1,000.00 invested in that cement, and as far as he knew, the baby wasn't coming 'till Saturday, the 29th, when it was due. After 6:30 I went down to help mom get dinner on for the children and told her I didn't think I should eat since I had been having contractions. She said she had wondered if I were and suggested a second time that I call Kent. I knew that I should, but I hated to alarm him or get him out early then have to sit around waiting. While the children ate I packed a bag for the hospital. Mom tried to get dad at the temple and didn't get through once, and left a message the second time that he had an OB patient in labor and to call home immediately. She was hoping to catch him before the sealing session began otherwise he wouldn't be through until about 9:30pm. It was already after 7pm. When the children were through eating I began dressing them immediately for bed. Foremost in my mind was my concern and desire that they be taken care of and safe and happy. While mom read the children a story, I called Kent. I told him I was disappointed he hadn't come out for the birthday party and that I thought I was in labor and that he had better come out to my folks. I characteristically understated the situation, something I always do when I'm in labor. It's as if I no longer have the power to think about myself as my body, mind, and spirit prepare to give birth. Anyway Kent got excited and said, "Hey, I guess you're going to have a baby, huh?" and I said, "Well, sometime, not necessarily tonight..." He said he'd get people to water down the cement and leave in about 10 minutes.
After we said prayers, kissed the children and tucked them in bed, I asked mom to pack my Lamaze bag (something I had planned on doing but had put off) while I showered and changed my clothes. I couldn't believe how weepy I was feeling so sentimental about my oldest children, and frightened at the prospect of the coming baby. The tears rolled down my cheeks and I prayed silently and fervently while the warm water ran down my back and beat against my aching tummy. As I was dressing, my mom knocked on the door to say that my dad had called and had said that I should get over to the hospital immediately, and that he would meet me there. I looked in on my dear children sleeping so peacefully and loathed to awaken them by taking them with us, and have them become consternated and puzzled or upset about what was happening. I asked my mom if she knew of someone of her friends who could come and stay with the children so they could just stay asleep. She called Sister Joyce Osborne who said she would be right up. I called Kent again to tell him to just meet me at the hospital but he had already left the house. I waited in the car (for what seemed like an eternity while my mom went back into the house to get something and waiting for Sister Osborne to arrive. She finally came and mom and I left.
It was a long ride, but amazingly not as agonizing as I remembered past rides to the hospital. I felt very close to my mom during that night ride closer I think than I ever have. I knew she was nervous but was trying not to act like it. As we talked about her trips to the hospital to have my brothers and sisters and I different women leaders we have worked with in the church, and personality traits we found difficult or easy to work with, I realized how much alike we were, how much we had in common, and she seemed very dear to me especially at this moment.
My mother went in the "doctors and ambulance only" entrance, pulling right up to Lobby, rationalizing "Well, this is a doctor's car. I walked in while she got my bags. My dad was already there (thank heavens! I had prayed real hard for that) and he came immediately when paged. Maggie, the Dutch nurse, wheeled me in and prepped me. I was dilated to 6 centimeters already! I was surprised. Other than feeling weepy and a few hard contractions, it didn't seem possible that it would be so close to delivery. I turned my face to the wall and said another silent prayer, and felt a sweet peaceful and reassuring feeling or presence. I knew Heavenly Father was there and would help me that this was a very special spirit who wanted very much to be born. My other two labors and deliveries I had felt the need to have a blessing but I didn't feel it was necessary this time; I KNEW all would be well.
It was about 8:30 when I was officially admitted. At 8:45pm I began having a couple of very hard contractions, and had dilated to nearly 9. They put me in to the delivery room table. I kept expecting Kent to arrive but feared he would just miss it. Everything seemed a bit unreal (like it couldn't be happening to me) and up 'till then it had been easy to be distracted during labor. Now it felt good to push although my back ached somewhat. Dad said labor was too strong and fast for it to be a posterior birth like Rachel's (for which I was grateful). He could tell the cord was around the baby's neck and had the nurse put a fetal monitor on. The baby seemed to be all right but pushing and delivery seemed slow and agonizing. At first I had wanted to stall so Kent could see the birth but that lasted only a few minutes. Very quickly my one consuming interest became pushing the baby out and getting it over with. I soon got the knack of bearing down, and as soon as the head poked through, dad had HIM out. We were all elated: me, because I think I had secretly wanted a boy, and my dad, because he had delivered his own grandson on his own birthday March 26, 1980, Wednesday. Kent walked in not 5 minutes after Eric's birth, while they were cleaning me up. He took pictures of the baby and all of us. Eric was born at 9:15 pm.
As I lay on the table I thought: Well, he'll be Eric James (a name we had previously picked out): James after my dad (especially since he was born on my dad's birthday) and Kent's dad; Eric for his own individuality and as a name Kent and I both liked. I knew an outstanding LDS boy and student body president named Eric Bladh. But as soon as Kent walked in he said, "Oh, well I guess this is Seth Thomas". He had been reading in the scriptures about Seth and had been deeply impressed with it and decided he'd like to name his boy that. We didn't make a final decision until the day Eric and I were released, and as you can see, I won, and Eric James it is! Although the clerk misspelled James and Gardiner. I'm glad we decided upon Eric James. Maybe Eric can grow up like Seth did and follow his father's righteous footsteps.
As they were taking me to my room my dad marveled at how blessed he'd been in his life. He said that he'd wondered if the baby would be born on his birthday and thought that it would be nice, but didn't really yearn or hope for it. He said that it had to be some kind of first A man delivering his own grandson on his own birthday...Later before I was released from the hospital and he came by to see me, fill out the forms, and do Eric's circumcision, he stood at the foot of the bed, leaned on the rail and beamed,” Now, you're really rich, aren't you?” referring to my now three precious children. I remembered how he would always introduce us to visitors as his "wealth". My father always treasures the things the Lord does.
I got a private room in the hospital, hopeful that insurance would pay for it (it did). It was well worth it for all the rest I got. The night before I came home I got 7 hours uninterrupted sleep. I never watched TV...read some short stories, started sections of my journal, napped every chance I could.
Kent brought the children for me to see. I sure missed them, especially little Rachel. I had my dad get a wheelchair and wheel me out to see them. Chad was real happy to see me and wanted to take me home he tried to push the wheel chair and was a real little man, so grown up. Rachel ignored me some what didn't want to sit on my lap.... insisted on pushing the wheel chair, too. It reminded me of how Chad had reacted after I had Rachel. After my dad left a bossy nurse came out, saw me, got very upset, and took me back to my room. She was afraid the children may pass a cold on to Eric, and me and then the rest of the babies in the nursery.
1981 December, Suzanne
On Cleaning Walls
"I'll wash the walls tomorrow"
she said glancing from her book
and as her son ran the muddied wheels
of his truck along the painted molding,
she filled her mind with thoughts
of the world beyond those plastered barriers
and scratched away at scales of
prejudice and ignorance within.
"I'll wash the walls tomorrow"
she nodded closing the oven door
and while her own children ate
bread and jam on the family room floor,
the neighbors ate the Sunday Pot
Roast,
and she fed not only bodies but hearts s
well
and the walls glowed
with a warmth no color thermostat put there.
"Ill wash the walls tomorrow"
she smiled lifting her painted canvas
and as her daughter mimicked her strokes
with crayon on small print wall paper,
she brought the light of beauty and
truth
through the windows of her home
and showed in the reflection of her offspring
forever stamping them with greatness and
depth.
1981
April 19
Trashing Kent’s Clothing
The week before last I complimented Suzanne on giving her lesson to the Stake ladies. A day or so later Suzanne told me that she had placed all of my clothes that I left out that night into the trashcan! She later reconsidered it and took them out! When she told me this I lay down on the floor and laughed till my sides hurt!
Trashing Kent’s Clothing
The week before last I complimented Suzanne on giving her lesson to the Stake ladies. A day or so later Suzanne told me that she had placed all of my clothes that I left out that night into the trashcan! She later reconsidered it and took them out! When she told me this I lay down on the floor and laughed till my sides hurt!
1981, 27712
Hyssop Lane
Saugus, Ca. 91350 December
Saugus, Ca. 91350 December
Dear
Friends and Relatives;
We are pleased to report the status of our
family to others re cherish. de are living in Saugus, California. This is the
hone of the Saugus Speedway and Swap meet, where a quarter of a million people
cane last .3unday looking for a bargain. They race stock cars there on weekend
nights. Saugus is 3 miles from Six Flags Magic Mountain, the amusement park
home of the American Revolution--the rollercoaster that makes a complete C
(revolution), and the Jo1ossus--the world's largest wooden roller coaster the
last three cars leave the track).
We have a yellow house with white
trim and a large enclosed yard, complete with sand box for the children (the
neighborhood cats like the sandbox, too). ;.e have enjoyed putting up drapes
and wallpaper, painting, laying bluegrass sod, flower and vegetable gardens,
etc. Our hone is in a new tract of 600 homes with shared park areas and a
community pool. .e really enjoy it, It's quiet. The children have many friends
in the neighborhood. There 's a cute lit tie
elementary scnoo1 a mile away, and a chapel
just 5 blocks away. de have found many young families living out here
with similar values and goals. 5)4 year-old
Chad is usually the life of every party. He
always has a multi- lot of ideas for everyone a natural
leader--and is happiest when he a the center of attention or running
the show. de enjoys Star Wars and or an X-ding fighter, Yoda, and Chewbacca for
Christmas. but his favorite present was a Fast Race track set. He is in Miss
Hankla's kindergarten class at Rosedell elementary school, and he enjoys art,
science, reading, music, and of course, snack time. He has always had an
abundance of enemy, and is learning how to direct it. He and
Rachel recently went to see Cinderella with
non.
Rachel is almost 3 years old. She is
sweet and pretty with her large brown eyes, gold hair, and coquettish smile.
She loves to play house with her dishes, dress up, eat candy, do tricks (stand
on one foot, hang by her knees) and since starting Preschool has become much
more outgoing and talkative, in fact she can be heard to quote her teacher
quite liberally for support in crucial moments:
Well, teacher says..... ", etc. She tripped at her Grandpa
Gardiner's the day after Christmas and cut her lip. It's swollen, scabbed
over, and tern-ole looking, and wasn't helped any when Eric tried to pull the
scab off. (rand-pa Dr. Brown says she will live and her lip will heal. And
grandma-great Breiten gave her a Red-riding hood/ Grandma/Wolf doll (handmade)
that gets lugged everywhere.
21-month old Eric James is all dimpled smiles,
clownish ways, and full of the raspberry. He doesn't go anywhere without
his 'nanny" (blanket) a 2 or 3 little
"bbbbrrrrrrooomm's" (cars) clutches cubby little hands. Lie has his
own language for everything and only his family can understand him...most of
the time. ‘Meow" (milk) is anything to drink...."na no (ding dong)
means he wants to go out the front door...and "DAH-Td." (usually
shouted very loudly) refers to almost anything he finds on the ground, but more
particularly cigarette butts much to the embarrassment of his parents).
Suzanne and Kent put up several pints of Apple
Jelly and Butter an Halloween night, and had to redo the
jelly 3 times before they got the right amounts of pectin, acid and
heat to gel the juice. Suzanne has been on a sewing binge lately. She made a
burgundy velveteen cuffed-sleeve, short-waisted jacket, pink wool pants, and a
gathered velvet Victorian print skirt for Christmas. She made Rachel
a strawberry calico print dress with a pinafore, and a burgundy velveteen dress
with long sleeves, a lace collar and embroidered smocking. Kent calls that
dress Rachel's little her Fauntleroy Dress".......She belongs to a book
club and in 'November led the discussion on Pearl S Buck's The
Good Earth....She has been active in school and church boards, and is
helping in the church nursery. Right now she is recovering
from a long bout with a recurring flu virus....we also got her Plymouth Valiant
repainted (yeaa!).
Kent is retiring from ;G's after 10 years
and 8 cars. Here is a list of his former treasures:
'58 MG Magnette (black)
'67 MOB GI (yellow)
'53 MG TD (brown)
'52 MG-(parts car)
'72 MGB GT (teak blue)
'58 MG coupe
'55 MGA roadster
'70 GB GT split bumper (red)
The last one is currently for sale. he is now
in the final state of restoring his '6 Mustang. He1s going
to paint it a deep red with black interior...He is also finishing up his
administrative credential and in February he will start to apply around
Southern California to be a principal. There are about 100 applicants ±'or each
position and only 14 interviewed, so it is going to be tough... He is still
struggling with his math and reading textbooks too, and while he has received
a lot of encouragement,' has gotten no bites yet this year he has
been teaching first and second grade, which he says is harder than the upper
grades he has always taught before. Younger children are more challenging, he
says. (His wife could have told him that!)
Well, a very Happy New Year to you and your
loved ones from--
The Gardiners
1980 March 26
Eric Birth
Eric Birth
Mom:
Wednesday, March 26, 1980 today I went shopping with the children at Puente
Hills Mall. We got daddy and grandpa presents as we planned to jointly
celebrate their birthdays that evening at the Browns. We also got Rachel some
everyday shoes (that ended up lasting all of three days she wore them out
dragging her feet while riding her horsey). It was extremely exhausting going
up and down escalators about 20 times, getting drinks, going to the
potty...Chad threw himself down and bawled in Sears because I got Rachel shoes
and not him...We went out the wrong exit on the wrong level and had to climb
some stairs and walk half a mile (so it seemed to me) to get to the car. The
children were hungry and thirsty and tired (and so was I) and Rachel fell
asleep on the way to the Browns. I begged them to eat lunch quickly so we could
all take naps. I slept on mom and dad's bed for a couple of hours but the
children didn't sleep at all.... in fact, Rachel poured out 2 bottles of my
make up all over my new robe, the rug, and a tray in the girls' room during
"nap time".
When I
got up the children "helped me" wrap birthday presents for daddy and
grandpa and frost an angel food cake with jam and cream for their birthday
celebrations. They had fun giving my dad his presents and were anxious for Kent
to come so they could give him his. They carried them around the house until I
took the one Rachel had away when she threw it over the banister. I found the
one Chad had with the ribbon off and partially opened.
I was
bone tired and ached. It was hard to move around and I lay down frequently
reading some short stories from a schoolbook of David's. Just after I finished
the cake (about 5:15pm) and dad left to go perform proxy sealings at the temple
(and while Chad watched Sesame Street), I called GlennaRae to find out how she
was doing and give her my folks phone #. I also called Grandma Breiten about
making me some pillows. Then I went to lie down again with David's book (Rachel
came too). Mother came in to tell me that David called from dad's office (he
cleans it on Wednesday) to say that Kent had called there after being unable to
get in touch with me here because the phone was busy. He'd found out that they
had poured the cement that day for our patio in the back so he was going to
stay at the house and keep it wet. I was extremely disappointed not only
because I had looked forward to seeing him and had planned a birthday party for
him...but also because I had also begun to wonder if the baby might come that
night.
I'd
become increasingly aware of some light contractions coming more and more
frequently and harder. I hoped they would stop if I rested (they didn't). I had
told GR that I couldn't have the baby that night I was too tired and had too
many things planned. I thought about dad at the temple 'till late and Kent not
here, and nonessential things like the children's Easter Party and our Music
Center tickets on Friday, and the Reed's sealing Saturday morning and prayed,
"Please Lord, not 'till Saturday night." Then when I knew it wouldn't
wait 'till Saturday, I changed it to...."how about after dad's sealing
session and Kent gets here". But somehow the Lord has his way, through the
birth of babies, of putting all things in life in their proper perspective of
importance. I wondered how I would feel if Kent missed his birthday party AND
the baby, but knew I would probably forgive him since he was just trying to
take care of everything. We had almost a $1,000.00 invested in that cement, and
as far as he knew, the baby wasn't coming 'till Saturday, the 29th, when it was
due. After 6:30 I went down to help mom get dinner on for the
children and told her I didn't think I should eat since I had been having contractions.
She said she had wondered if I were and suggested a second time that I call
Kent. I knew that I should, but I hated to alarm him or get him out early then
have to sit around waiting. While the children ate I packed a bag for the
hospital. Mom tried to get dad at the temple and didn't get through once, and
left a message the second time that he had an OB patient in labor and to call
home immediately. She was hoping to catch him before the sealing session began
otherwise he wouldn't be through until about 9:30pm. It was already after 7pm.
When the children were through eating I began dressing them immediately for
bed. Foremost in my mind was my concern and desire that they be taken care of
and safe and happy. While mom read the children a story, I called Kent. I told
him I was disappointed he hadn't come out for the birthday party and that I
thought I was in labor and that he had better come out to my folks. I
characteristically understated the situation, something I always do when I'm in
labor. It's as if I no longer have the power to think about myself as my body,
mind, and spirit prepare to give birth. Anyway Kent got excited and said,
"Hey, I guess you're going to have a baby, huh?" and I said,
"Well, sometime, not necessarily tonight..." He said he'd get people
to water down the cement and leave in about 10 minutes.
After we
said prayers, kissed the children and tucked them in bed, I asked mom to pack
my Lamaze bag (something I had planned on doing but had put off) while I
showered and changed my clothes. I couldn't believe how weepy I was feeling so
sentimental about my oldest children, and frightened at the prospect of the
coming baby. The tears rolled down my cheeks and I prayed silently and
fervently while the warm water ran down my back and beat against my aching
tummy. As I was dressing, my mom knocked on the door to say that my dad had
called and had said that I should get over to the hospital immediately, and
that he would meet me there. I looked in on my dear children sleeping so
peacefully and loathed to awaken them by taking them with us, and have them
become consternated and puzzled or upset about what was happening. I asked my
mom if she knew of someone of her friends who could come and stay with the
children so they could just stay asleep. She called Sister Joyce Osborne who
said she would be right up. I called Kent again to tell him to just meet me at
the hospital but he had already left the house. I waited in the car (for what
seemed like an eternity while my mom went back into the house to get something
and waiting for Sister Osborne to arrive. She finally came and mom and I left.
It was a
long ride, but amazingly not as agonizing as I remembered past rides to the
hospital. I felt very close to my mom during that night ride closer I think
than I ever have. I knew she was nervous but was trying not to act like it. As
we talked about her trips to the hospital to have my brothers and sisters and I
different women leaders we have worked with in the church, and personality
traits we found difficult or easy to work with, I realized how much alike we
were, how much we had in common, and she seemed very dear to me especially at
this moment.
My mother
went in the "doctors and ambulance only" entrance, pulling right up
to Lobby, rationalizing "Well, this is a doctor's car. I walked in while
she got my bags. My dad was already there (thank heavens! I had prayed real
hard for that) and he came immediately when paged. Maggie, the Dutch nurse,
wheeled me in and prepped me. I was dilated to 6 centimeters already! I was
surprised. Other than feeling weepy and a few hard contractions, it didn't seem
possible that it would be so close to delivery. I turned my face to the wall
and said another silent prayer, and felt a sweet peaceful and reassuring feeling
or presence. I knew Heavenly Father was there and would help me that this was a
very special spirit who wanted very much to be born. My other two labors and
deliveries I had felt the need to have a blessing but I didn't feel it was
necessary this time; I KNEW all would be well.
It was
about 8:30 when I was officially admitted. At 8:45pm I began having a couple of
very hard contractions, and had dilated to nearly 9. They put me in to the
delivery room table. I kept expecting Kent to arrive but feared he would just
miss it. Everything seemed a bit unreal (like it couldn't be happening to me)
and up 'till then it had been easy to be distracted during labor. Now it felt
good to push although my back ached somewhat. Dad said labor was too strong and
fast for it to be a posterior birth like Rachel's (for which I was grateful).
He could tell the cord was around the baby's neck and had the nurse put a fetal
monitor on. The baby seemed to be all right but pushing and delivery seemed
slow and agonizing. At first I had wanted to stall so Kent could see the birth
but that lasted only a few minutes. Very quickly my one consuming interest
became pushing the baby out and getting it over with. I soon got the knack of
bearing down, and as soon as the head poked through, dad had HIM out. We were
all elated: me, because I think I had secretly wanted a boy, and my dad,
because he had delivered his own grandson on his own birthday March 26, 1980,
Wednesday. Kent walked in not 5 minutes after Eric's birth, while they were
cleaning me up. He took pictures of the baby and all of us. Eric was
born at 9:15 pm.
As I lay
on the table I thought: Well, he'll be Eric James (a name we had previously
picked out): James after my dad (especially since he was born on my dad's
birthday) and Kent's dad; Eric for his own individuality and as a name Kent and
I both liked. I knew an outstanding LDS boy and student body president named
Eric Bladh. But as soon as Kent walked in he said, "Oh, well I guess this
is Seth Thomas". He had been reading in the scriptures about Seth and had
been deeply impressed with it and decided he'd like to name his boy that. We
didn't make a final decision until the day Eric and I were released, and as you
can see, I won, and Eric James it is! Although the clerk misspelled James and
Gardiner. I'm glad we decided upon Eric James. Maybe Eric can grow up like Seth
did and follow his father's righteous footsteps.
As they
were taking me to my room my dad marveled at how blessed he'd been in his life.
He said that he'd wondered if the baby would be born on his birthday and
thought that it would be nice, but didn't really yearn or hope for it. He said
that it had to be some kind of first A man delivering his own grandson on his
own birthday...Later before I was released from the hospital and he came by to
see me, fill out the forms, and do Eric's circumcision, he stood at the foot of
the bed, leaned on the rail and beamed,” Now, you're really rich, aren't you?”
referring to my now three precious children. I remembered how he would always
introduce us to visitors as his "wealth". My father always treasures
the things the Lord does.
I got a
private room in the hospital, hopeful that insurance would pay for it (it did).
It was well worth it for all the rest I got. The night before I came home I got
7 hours uninterrupted sleep. I never watched TV...read some short stories,
started sections of my journal, napped every chance I could.
Kent
brought the children for me to see. I sure missed them, especially little
Rachel. I had my dad get a wheelchair and wheel me out to see them. Chad was
real happy to see me and wanted to take me home he tried to push the wheel
chair and was a real little man, so grown up. Rachel ignored me some what
didn't want to sit on my lap.... insisted on pushing the wheel chair, too. It
reminded me of how Chad had reacted after I had Rachel. After my dad left a
bossy nurse came out, saw me, got very upset, and took me back to my room. She
was afraid the children may pass a cold on to Eric, and me and then the rest of
the babies in the nursery.
Home
Again
Mom:
March 29, 1980 well, here we are all home in our new house. Kent brought all of
us home on Friday, and then took the children shopping so Eric and I could get
some sleep. I was just dropping off when I was awakened by the phone University
Elementary School giving me congratulations but chastising Kent for taking the
day off from school. I was so mad I couldn't go back to sleep. That night when
I went in to kiss little Rachel goodnight in her new bedroom, she turned her
face to the wall and sobbed a little. My little darling princess was dethroned
by the arrival of a usurping prince. I felt rather badly.... just like I did
for Chad when I brought Rachel home.
Rachel
was so very clingy when I was pregnant this fall could not even move out of her
sight in a grocery store without her coming all unglued. Her hands would move
up and down on her face and she'd act so distraught. She was very bonded to me,
and always wanted me to hold or carry her until my arms ached and I begged Kent
to take her. Now as I look back at those pictures of her at this age, how my
arms ache to hold her again. I felt guilty having my first three children so
close to each other-guilty for the child just older than the baby, and
especially for Rachel who was sandwiched in the middle. But I was
very blessed in Rachel: as soon as she neared the age of two she wanted to grow
up and be like Chad. She was potty trained at two years old, wanted to follow
him to friends houses to play, and no longer wanted to be treated as a baby
especially with the new baby in the house. Perhaps she sensed the baby was
coming; but she seemed to grow up overnight. While I mourned the loss of her
babyhood, I appreciated how mature her little personality was. She was very
easy to care for. She tended to hold her own feelings in, and became a little
mother to Eric, trying to mimic me in tending him.
1981
Dear
Mom
Here is a copy of the Personal History Outline
I received in R.S. Maybell it will give you some ideas....
I'd like to Xerox you and dad's birth and
marriage certificates if you wouldn't mind getting them out. Ill be there
Friday morning about 10- close to anyway.
Also enclosed is some info I received from the
great great great grandson of Samantha Elizabeth Jones Barnes. I think
his father's name is James Brown, coincidentally.
Love top you and dad.
Suzanne, Eric and Chad
seem better.
27712
Hyssop Lane
Saugus, Ca. 91350 December 1981
Saugus, Ca. 91350 December 1981
Dear
Friends and Relatives:
We are pleased to report the status of our
family to others we cherish. .e are living in Saugus, California. his is the
home of the Saugus Speedway and Swap meet, where a quarter of a million people
came last Sunday looking for a bargain. They race stock cars there on weekend
nights. Saugus is 3 miles from 6 Flags Magic Mountain, the
amusement park home of the American Revolution-he roller-coaster that makes a
complete (revolution), and the Colossus--the world's largest wooden
rollercoaster. the last three cars leave the track).
We have a yellow house with white trim and a
large enclosed yard, complete with sand box for the children (the neighborhood
cats like the sandbox, too). We have enjoyed putting up drapes and wallpaper,
painting, laying bluegrass sod, flower and vegetable gardens, etc.
Our home is in a new tract of 600 homes with
shared park areas and a community co1. :.e really enjoy it. It's quiet. The
children have many friends in the neighborhood. There's a cute little
elementary school a mile away, and a chapel just 5 blocks
away. We have found many young families living out here with similar values and
goals.
5 year-old Chad is usually the life of
every party. He always has a multitude of ideas for everyone.ith'3 a natural
leader--and is happiest when he's the center of attention or running the show.
He enjoys Star Wars and got an X-wing fighter, Yoda, and Chewbacca for
Christmas. Put his favorite present was a Fast Race track set. He is in Miss
Hankla's kindergarten class at Rosedell Elementary school, and he enjoys art,
science, reading, music, and of course, snack time. Re has always had an
abundance of energy, and is learning how to direct it. He and Rachel recently
went to see Cinderella with mom.
Rachel is almost + years old. She is sweet and
pretty with her large brown eyes, gold hair, and coquettish smile. She loves to
play house with her dishes, dress up, eat candy, do 'tricks" (stand on one
foot, hang by her knees) and since starting Preschool has become much more
outgoing and talkative. in fact she can be heard to quote her teacher quote
liberally for support in crucial moments:
"Well, teacher says.. ', etc. She tripped at her
Grandma Gardiner's the day after Christmas and cut her lip. It's swollen,
scabbed over, and terrible looking, and wasn't helped any when Eric tried to
pull the scab off. rand-pa Dr. Brown says she will live and her lip will heal.
Her grandma-great Breiten gave her a Red-riding hood/ Grandma/Wolf doll
(handmade) that gets lugged everywhere,
21-month old Eric James is all dimpled
smiles, clownish ways, and full of the raspberry. He doesn't go anywhere
without his "nanny" (blanket) a "bbbbrrrrrr00000mm's"
(cars) 1utchedinhi chubby little hands. he has his own language for everything
and only his fmi1y can understand him...most of the “Maow” (milk) is anything
to drink...”Na no (ding dong) means he wants to go out the front
door...and "DAH-TEE" (usually shouted very loudly) refers
to almost anything he finds on the ground, but more particularly cigarette
butts much to the embarrassment of his parents).
Suzanne and Kent put up several pints of Apple
je1ly and Butter Halloween night, and had to redo the jelly 3 times
before they got the right amounts
1982
Little Big Guy
Little "Big Guy" is an irresistible toddler who can steal your heart and tweak it at the same time. His platinum blond hair frames a most angelic face, set with enormous blue eyes, and chubby kissable cheeks. But looks are deceiving,. Behind his cherubic features is a lively and impish personality that tries even a mother's love.
From the moment Eric Gardiner wakens he commands attention. He stands up in his crib, throws "nanny" (blanket), "Brrrrrrrroom" (a fast 111's race car), and "maol" (milk bottle) on the floor along with any clothing he can take off, and yells at the top of his lungs.
As soon as his basic needs are attended to (such as a change of diapers and a glass of milk--which is difficult since he must be chased down for the first and coaxed into the last), he begins his studious job of mimicking all the important people in his life. In face he was dubbed "Big Guy" by his father because he tries so hard at this obsession to be just like certain favorite people. If the older children color, he must color too, if they race screaming through the house, he does also, even if he is the object of their frenzy. If his father needs to work on one of the cars, he is most content with a screwdriver or hammer in his hand, and if mommy is fixing dinner, he needs his own stirring spoon and taster handy. His favorite toys are an older sister's discarded clothing, and his big brother's formerly-coveted little race cars. But he takes occasional time-outs imitating to be an absolute imp. He pounds the piano, scribbles crayon on walls, leaves a trail of turned on lights, stereo speaker covers and turned over chairs in his wake. And when he's crossed--watch out. He a kami-kazi pilot on a death mission. With teeth bared and fists clinched, he's a terror only three feet high.
He's a knee-high darling, too especially when he cuddles up next to you on the couch to watch "Ernie and Bert," leaning one arm companionably on your lap, while a faint aroma of not-quite-house-trained puppy waifs faintly from his tousled curls. And there's a certain spot, just under his right ear and behind his jaw that is just waiting to be kissed at any moment.
Little "Big Guy" may be short stuff, but he's pretty potent, and his family wouldn't trade him in on a larger, more even-tempered model for all the peace and quiet in the world. Suzanne, February 23, 1982
Little "Big Guy" is an irresistible toddler who can steal your heart and tweak it at the same time. His platinum blond hair frames a most angelic face, set with enormous blue eyes, and chubby kissable cheeks. But looks are deceiving,. Behind his cherubic features is a lively and impish personality that tries even a mother's love.
From the moment Eric Gardiner wakens he commands attention. He stands up in his crib, throws "nanny" (blanket), "Brrrrrrrroom" (a fast 111's race car), and "maol" (milk bottle) on the floor along with any clothing he can take off, and yells at the top of his lungs.
As soon as his basic needs are attended to (such as a change of diapers and a glass of milk--which is difficult since he must be chased down for the first and coaxed into the last), he begins his studious job of mimicking all the important people in his life. In face he was dubbed "Big Guy" by his father because he tries so hard at this obsession to be just like certain favorite people. If the older children color, he must color too, if they race screaming through the house, he does also, even if he is the object of their frenzy. If his father needs to work on one of the cars, he is most content with a screwdriver or hammer in his hand, and if mommy is fixing dinner, he needs his own stirring spoon and taster handy. His favorite toys are an older sister's discarded clothing, and his big brother's formerly-coveted little race cars. But he takes occasional time-outs imitating to be an absolute imp. He pounds the piano, scribbles crayon on walls, leaves a trail of turned on lights, stereo speaker covers and turned over chairs in his wake. And when he's crossed--watch out. He a kami-kazi pilot on a death mission. With teeth bared and fists clinched, he's a terror only three feet high.
He's a knee-high darling, too especially when he cuddles up next to you on the couch to watch "Ernie and Bert," leaning one arm companionably on your lap, while a faint aroma of not-quite-house-trained puppy waifs faintly from his tousled curls. And there's a certain spot, just under his right ear and behind his jaw that is just waiting to be kissed at any moment.
Little "Big Guy" may be short stuff, but he's pretty potent, and his family wouldn't trade him in on a larger, more even-tempered model for all the peace and quiet in the world. Suzanne, February 23, 1982
May 1, 1982
Dear
Family-
Why is a farmer cruel to his corn?
What is the best way to keep fish from
smelling?
Why did the man tiptoe past the medicine
cabinet when he got in late last night?
(answers below)
Well here it is almost summer
again. Suzanne is busy writing another song. She just finished a poem
for the Era contest and last night she made strawberry jam. Last weekend she
announced that she as taking the
Saturday off. I watched the kids, cleaned the
house, went swimming, then sat down and watched TV, pretending
to do that all day. But she didn't come home
until
8:00 at night. Since then she has been in high
spirits.
I guess the Temple, the genealogical library
and shopping really agrees with her. I'm considering a change of
roles, because I enjoy staying home with the kids and I'm sure she
would be a fabulous teacher.
Chad is in T Ball. He has a hat, mitt and a
shirt that says Pirates. I'm the coach. Le have a lot of fun. But we do have
one rule with these mighty mites-never throw the ball, you never know what
might happen. Rachel is full of questions and ideas about life. She made a
picture of Suzanne and herself on a permanent plate, and then she wouldn't let
Suzanne kiss her, so Suzanne had to kiss the picture of Suzanne on the plate
instead. This brought great belches of tittering laughter.
Eric last Friday got out of bed himself. That
night we had Chad leap on the top bunk, and so Rachel wanted to sleep on the
bottom bunk. Guess what. Eric promptly switched beds and slept in Rachel's
bed. e now play musical beds nightly. Eric is full of fun and curiosity.
He is an absolute delight.
We would still enjoy getting together with the
rest of you
for a couple of days during the summer.
We love you all
Suzanne and Kent
Because he pulled their ears
Cut off their noses
He didn’t want to wake up the sleeping pills
1982 May 7
Love Song
Our hearts beat in harmony
To a melody woven long
Before our souls played here
In earth's composition
1982 Some Lucky Me
"Some wives," you tell me,
Fix their husbands lunches
And have dinner on at five
EVERY night without fail.
"Some husbands," you tell me
NEVER clean up after dinner
And do all the laundry
Each week without fail
Aren't you glad, I tell you,
That "some wives" and "some
husbands"
Exist ONLY in some child's
Immature fairy tale?
I pity "some wives," I tell you,
For their "some husbands" will never
Compare with my perfect
Complaining some male.
1982
Dear Family
We've all had our birthday's in the last 5
months - Chad being the last one. We had to postpone his party a week
because we all got the flu, but when we finally had it was loads of
fun....games, prizes, presents, hot dogs. he got dinosaurs, cars, Star
Wars, little people lots of toys, the works. We're all going to Disneyland
when Kent gets back from Canada (see below)
Rachel goes to Tiny Tots at the Park on Friday's and is very proud to be going to school now like a big girl. She has grown up so much - really enjoys playing with her friends, dishes and doing "tricks" on the swing set. She also likes "curlies in her hair.
Eric just had his gorgeous curly locks shorn off. He looks more like a boy but mother was sure sorry to see them cut off (So was Eric - he really hollered) He's got 18 teeth, dimples and dearly loves to help his daddy fix the car. he also to pay basketball carries the ball over and underneath the basket and drops it, then squeals.
Kent had a very interesting experience with an investigator. Most of his time has been spent trying to get 2 of the three cars we own to work. He's given up on the MG (the engine has frozen up). and so has been concentrating on the '65 Mustang. He spent as much money having the engine rebuilt as he did for the entire car. Suzanne is getting very anxious to get her car back. Later this month Kent's is going to Canada for a week with the kids at school.
Suzanne is on the Stake R.S. board curriculum and in service leader. It's a fun job, but her first opportunity to provide luncheon at stake board meeting she failed miserably at rolls. They came out like hard little biscuits....and she used Janice's recipe, too. Guess I'll have to let you make them next time Janice. She's taking piano lessons at College of the Canyons, currently playing Debussy's "Reverie" and enjoying it tremendously
Both Kent and Suzanne have started taking another genealogy class in their ward. Maybe if we take enough of them we'll get around to doing our Genealogy
Love all.
Kent Suzanne, Chad Eric,
Rachel
October 22, 1982
Dear Family,
We hope this letter finds all of you well and
happy. Suzanne is continuing to work hard in her missionary work although the
results she would like are difficult to find. We have done a lot of things like
dinners, ice cream parties, church and the visitor center with non members
lately. It has been fun but we haven't had a lot trying to join the church.
Suzanne has learned the lessons and had the most hours in the entire stake last
month.
Chad is playing soccer and really loving it.
He knows which way to kick the ball and gets right in the thick of things whacking
this way and that. He's also learning how to read in first grade which he is
very proud of Rachel is going to preschool and is taking dance lessons. She is
a beauty beyond compare. She enjoys playing house, monster and playing in the
dirt as well as riding her tricycle.
Eric is spoiled. He is currently working on
his 51st way of getting his way in a jam. He knows how to get his way with
mommy, daddy, the cat next door, machines chairs and a tinker toy set.
Kent is teaching 1st and 2ond grades. Two days
ago he gave a presentation to a hundred parents and won the popularity contest.
He has been hard to live with since then. His Mustang is done and he is eagerly
eying the want ad for a model A.
Below is a picture of what each member of the
family is going to be for Halloween.
1983, April 27
Dear
Family,
We are happy to inform you that all is
going well in the convivial confines of greater Saugus.
Suzanne, the missionary, is also
sewing dresses by the batch for Rachel who is in fun for
fours. Last night we attended her open house and saw some of her work
which looks excellent. She equals and in some instances is better than
anyone in her class. She told me at dinner that her teacher 'doesn't have any
girls. I looked at her and told her how difficult it must be not to have a
sweet cherub like her. We sure enjoy our girl, Rachel. Meanwhile,
Chad and Eric continue to keep things moving. Chad is in T-Ball again this
year. He plays left field and is a fine hitter. Eric also hits, and for hitting
he takes a time out on his time out chair. By the time Eric stops hitting we'll
probably want him to start hitting.
I'm applying for principal ships all over
California. I wouldn't even mind a small community in central California for
the experience of being a principal. There are at least 180 applicants for each
position. So just getting an interview is a major proposition. Usually school districts
have someone in mind for the job but occasionally they hire from without. Two
weeks ago our family visited the parents. While there I had Dad give me a
fathers blessing to begin my job search. It was a very special experience that
we taped. It is a very special thing to have a father that can be inspired on
your behalf.
Because of the expected addition to our family
we are looking for a van or something that will transport a large group. Any
suggestions or help would be appreciated.
We would like to sponsor a get together out
here either June 11 or June 18. Picnic, food, swimming, early morning fishing
if you like. Would you be interested?
The Beitler’s, men only, take all of the
children to Kings Canyon each Labor Day. They leave the wives behind and camp
out in the Sequoias for four days. There is a stream, an enclosed canyon, fishing.
Now doesn't that sound great. Because our family isn't doing anything over
that four day weekend, I'm joining their family. Chad, Rachel and I will be
enjoying a lot of other "cousins" and having a four day picnic. I'll
bet they remember it for a long time to come. What could we do? Kent and Suzanne
1983 July 21
Holding Hands
As I held hands with your father in a Swanson’s ice cream parlor the night before you were born, I told him that “As difficult as this has been for me (physically) and as crazy as the world must think us for wanting another child, I know that 20, 30 or even a million years from now, we will look back at this moment as being very special.
1983, July 22
Ryan Philip
Ryan Philip was born Friday morning July 22, at 9:22 a.m. Delivery and labor went fine – except it was tough to push him out. I guess we were all expecting a tiny little girl, and were surprised to find out it was a BIG boy instead: 23 inches long, 9 pounds 1 oz. And he is beautiful, a perfect “10” baby. He has medium brown hair, medium complexion, well proportioned, all the right number of fingers, toes etc. And he’s a good cuddlier and sleeper. He already is trying to focus in on people’s faces and is interested in sounds of people’s voices, water running, etc.
Holding Hands
As I held hands with your father in a Swanson’s ice cream parlor the night before you were born, I told him that “As difficult as this has been for me (physically) and as crazy as the world must think us for wanting another child, I know that 20, 30 or even a million years from now, we will look back at this moment as being very special.
1983, July 22
Ryan Philip
Ryan Philip was born Friday morning July 22, at 9:22 a.m. Delivery and labor went fine – except it was tough to push him out. I guess we were all expecting a tiny little girl, and were surprised to find out it was a BIG boy instead: 23 inches long, 9 pounds 1 oz. And he is beautiful, a perfect “10” baby. He has medium brown hair, medium complexion, well proportioned, all the right number of fingers, toes etc. And he’s a good cuddlier and sleeper. He already is trying to focus in on people’s faces and is interested in sounds of people’s voices, water running, etc.
Preface
Mom: July 22, 1983, Last night I went to bed
with a swollen, sore abdomen and prayed, "Please, dear Heavenly Father, I
really want to have this baby in the next few hours...and I've done all that I
can do--now I'm leaving it all up to you. The ball is in your court..."
Tonight I went to bed with a large, plump baby boy across my abdomen and a sigh
and a tear, "Thank you, dear Father. Help me to love this baby, gain
insight into his special spirit, and raise him righteously."
Special Note from Your Mother
Ryan Philip, you were a very WANTED child. I
knew after I had Eric that our family wasn't complete and it was very soon
there after that Chad began asking when we were going to have you! I told him
to wait until Eric was two years old, and then we would discuss it, but already
your father and I were planning ahead when the best time to have you would be.
Several of the children's playmates` parents had babies near the time that we
conceived you (the Whites and the Blairs--each with children the same ages as
your siblings) and so Chad and Rachel began to ask again and we told them to
ask your Heavenly Father.... and they began praying in earnest for another baby
in our family and their private prayers. Chad in particular prayed fervently
for another brother.
Your father and I were concerned about
planning the timing of your arrival, and gave the matter much thought and
prayer. When I was called to serve on an 18 month stake mission in June 1982,
both Kent and I told the member of the stake presidency extending the call of
our plans to have you in the next year and he said that my time could be
adjusted if necessary, but that the Lord had great plans for me--he wanted me
to serve him on a mission. Oh how I have longed to serve on a mission! I love
missionary work! And so I planned to give it all I could for at least twelve
months. And I did, and the people (Don and Lila Swauger) are progressing in the
gospel and referring their friends to the missionaries...Other missionaries
have stepped in and been lifted by the Lord to more than fill my shoes, and I
have had great joy in serving the Lord this past year.
And so you see you are a missionary child--and
in more ways than one! I had planned a John Jones reunion this summer (3 weeks
after your expected birth) with a Jones cousin from Tennessee, and was
concerned because I knew that I could not come, but the Lord softened the heart
of your grandmother Brown, (William Alfred Jones oldest grandchild) and your
grandpa Brown into going back to Tennessee for me. I have been able to gather
much information...and just finished compiling it for your grandmother the
night before you were born.
But I want you to know Ryan Philip, that even
with all these great things your mother was doing--missionary work and
genealogy--nothing deterred your father and I from wanting to have you. As I
held hands with your father in a Swenson`s ice cream Parlor the night before
you were born, I told him that "As difficult as this has been for me
(physically) and as crazy as the world must think us for wanting another child,
I know thatm20, 30, or even a million years from now, we will look back on our
lives here and realize that having this baby was one of the most significant
/important things we've ever done." (And I want more children too, Ryan....
Having you makes me want to have more.)
Conception
Your father and I know just about the exact
time we conceived you in late October 1982. And then there were the weeks of
waiting to be certain...the quiet satisfaction of knowing you were on your way.
Through all the weeks of morning sickness, physical humiliation in the
beginning and tremendous discomfort towards the last--I knew that what I was
doing was right and I wanted to have you. And when well-meaning strangers would
ask if this was my first and what did I want (a boy or a girl) and Id say,
"either a boy or a girl--this is my fourth" (and they'd nearly faint
or roll their eyes), "We enjoyed our first three so much we thought we'd
do it again!" Then they'd be speechless. (Most people do not want to have
four children, my dear.) But because I meant what I said and so obviously
wanted you and planned you, most people respected us. You are a testimony to
the phrase, "Children are the heritage of the Lord", and "happy
is the man (woman) who hath his quiver full of them."
The Other Children get Into the Act
I was about 3 months along when I heard Chad
praying, "well I think we're about ready for that baby now"--and I
looked at Kent and said, "I think we should tell them, don't you?" We
told them in a special family home evening at about 3 1/2 months. Chad was
ecstatic and announced that his prayers had been answered. Eric immediately had
a baby in his tummy, too, and gave you kisses and brought you blankets and toys
to play with even though you were still inside my womb. He also added you and
his baby to his prayer list of significant people getting home safely. He'd
pray, "Daddy get home, Mommy get home, Chad get home, Rachel get home,
Eric get home, Mommy's baby get home, my baby get home. Jesus, too, AMEN!"
And sweet, good Rachel prayed that you would be healthy and strong. And that
you are!
Suzanne is Sick
(When I was a few months pregnant with you, a
neighbor boy in our school carpool contracted Fifth's Disease. I felt a strong
compulsion to avoid contact with him despite the assurances from the parents
that this was a childhood disease and in no way dangerous to the baby or me.
Their pediatrician felt so too. Much later I was to find out from a Newspaper
article in our local paper that 2 out of 6 women exposed to the disease had
miscarriages and the fetuses showed signs of the illness. I feel that is
another instance in which the Lord protected you, Ryan.)
(Note: Mom's missionary companion, Nancy
Morgan, who tried to have a baby for 12 years, unexpectedly was able to adopt a
baby boy, Charles Wayne Morgan, in January 1983. He and Ryan are just six
months apart in age and had missionary mothers who were companions at the time
of their birth. Wouldn't it be something if these two boys became companions
when they grew up and went on their missions!)?
Pre Birth
On July 19, the family was staying with the
Browns in anticipation of the birth. Today Grandma Great came over
to the house for lunch. She gave Eric a blue Tonka Truck with a matching boat and
trailer, Chad got a very nice set of foreign coins with a clear plastic coin
purse and Rachel got a neat set of dishes. The children particularly
enjoyed the visit, and playing with Lady and Duchess, their
dogs. Eric is about the same size as the dogs, and they enjoy lick
him while he pets them.
Our family is also looking for a
van. With the next addition it seems to be the time for extra room
and more comfortable transportation.
Mom: We went to stay at your Brown
grandparents the week before you were born. The children were happy playing
with the dogs and going for walks with Grandpa. Chad would run ahead and Rachel
and Eric would sweetly, trustingly, hold onto grandpa's hands. Grandpa Brown
later said that it struck him that we need to like children and hold onto our
Father in Heaven's hands as we walk through life.
I worked on genealogy for Mom to take back
with her to the reunion and did as little walking as possible. You were so
heavy, it hurt to move. Your daddy kept calling from work every couple of hours
all week wanting to know how close my contractions were. They were erratic,
light Braxton-Hickson ones, but nothing definitely labor. I was anxious because
Chad and Rachel started school Monday the 25th (on year-round schedule) and I
wanted to get back home with you and settle in before sending them off on their
first day.
The Actual Birth
Mom: Thursday night the 21st (your due date),
your daddy and I went out to Puente Hills mall to the Penney's store and got
Chad some pajamas, and Kent a jumpsuit. I was so uncomfortable; it was
excruciating to even walk. We went to Swanson's ice cream store after that and
I sampled some of daddy's ice cream rather than order any myself because I knew
I would go into hard labor soon and I didn't want the ice cream to make me sick
or give me heartburn. When we got home I took a long hot shower and remembered
my shower in that same bathroom 3 years and 4 months earlier just before Eric
was born. At that time I was feeling so emotional and teary-eyed over leaving Chad
and Rachel. This time I was DETERMINED to give birth to you in the next 12
hours. I begged Heavenly Father to start things rolling, break my bag of waters
or SOMETHING! Sure enough, at 3 am I awoke with a start as water gushed out
over my legs. I stumbled to the bathroom trailing water, elated and pondering
my next move. I awoke your dad and grandpa and told them I wanted to go to the
hospital.
"When Are We Going To Have Another
Baby?"
July 22, 1983, soon after Eric was born Chad
began asking when we were going to have our next baby. I told him to wait until
Eric was two years old. Several of the children's friends (the Whites and
Blairs) had babies in '82, and Chad and Rachel began to pester us again. We
told them to ask Heavenly Father. They began praying in earnest for another
baby in family and private prayers. Chad in particular prayed fervently for
another brother. I was about three months pregnant with Ryan when I heard Chad
praying "Well, I think we're about ready for that baby now" and I
looked at Kent and said, "I think we should tell them, don't you?" We
waited until I was over the sickness and just beginning to show (then it
wouldn't seem so long to them). We told them in a special family home evening
at about 3 1/2 months. Chad was ecstatic, and announced his prayers had been
answered. Eric immediately had a baby in his tummy too gave you kisses and
brought him blankets and toys to play with even though he was still inside my
womb and added him and his baby to his prayer list of getting home safely. He'd
pray "Daddy get home, Mommy get home, Chad get home, Rachel get home, Eric
get home, Mommy's baby get home, my baby get home, Jesus too, AMEN!" And
sweet good Rachel prayed that he would be healthy and strong.
We went to stay at the Brown grandparents the
week before Ryan was born. The children were happy playing with the dogs and
going for walks with grandpa. Chad would run ahead and Rachel and Eric would
sweetly, trustingly hold onto grandpa's hands. Grandpa Brown later said that it
struck him that we need to be like children and hold onto our Father in
Heaven's hands as we walk through life.
I was anxious to have Ryan that weekend,
because on Monday July 25th, Chad and Rachel were to start back to school on
the four vacation plan, and I wanted to have the baby and get back home so that
I could show the children their new classes and get them off to school on that
first day.
Thursday evening the 21st, we went to the
Puente Hills mall and bought Chad some pajamas, and fried ham. The
next morning, Ryan was born. Chad was very excited to have a little brother and
again announced that his prayers had been answered. Rachel was somewhat
disappointed that Ryan was not a girl, but she became pacified to learn that
he'd be sleeping in her room (much to the jealousy of her two other brothers
who wanted him in their room), and that his name started with an R like hers.
She really became a little mother to him and a
big help to me. Ryan was almost as big as she was and she would lug him around
the house to wherever she was playing and give him her toys to suck and clutch,
prop him on her blankets and pillows beside her in every room and in front of
the TV with her. She loved to get him laughing and change his paper diapers by
herself (faster than her mother changes), wash his hair, and laugh at him. She
even brought him to school for sharing the week she was Yankee Doodle Dandy in
kindergarten and showed her classmates how efficiently she could change his
diapers. All the children wanted to touch, kiss, and hold him. At her class
Christmas party (I was the room mother) nearly each child in the room came over
and gave Ryan a big hub and kiss when Ms. Hankla (Rachel's teacher asked them
to give a warm fuzzy to someone. At Thanksgiving time Rachel said that she was
most thankful for Ryan.
Eric now prays, "Bless the baby get safe
and strong" in his prayers.
No Hurry
The hospital waiting room had a few sleeping
dads lying on couches. I went back to the maternity ward and hear the babies
crying--oh, how I wanted to have you! I had to lie on a bed in the hallway
because the labor rooms were full. I arrived after 4 am. By 6:30 or 7 I was
able to go into a labor room, but my contractions weren't coming that hard yet.
My dad came in to see me about 7:15 (He had come in about 5:30 earlier to check
on me)
This time dressed for surgery. I asked him to
give me a blessing--mainly because I wanted the labor to come fast and
smoothly--more than fear concerning your safety. You see when I was 2 months
pregnant with you I had a number of viral headaches and infections, and feeling
very down and depressed then, I asked for a blessing at that time from your dad
and grandpa. I still remember your grandpa promising that you would develop
according to the Lord's plan for you. This promise comforted me many times
during my pregnancy.
My labor came stronger although somewhat
erratic after that. At one point you hiccupped and began pushing yourself down
with your feet. At 8:45, when Grandpa Brown came back from surgery, he said you
were just about ready and the nurses pushed me into the delivery room (the same
one that I was born in).
Ta-da! Ryan is Born
Mom: I had a hard time pushing you out, but at
9:22 am you were born--a BIG healthy boy at 9 lbs., 1 oz. and 23 inches long
(that's almost a record length, my dear). Grandpa says you'll probably be
6'6", 220 lbs. someday. You were so beautifully formed, you fooled your
grandpa as to how long and big you really were. He said you were a
"perfect 10 baby" (quite an achievement already!) on your Apgar
score.
Anyway, I cuddled you in the hospital and
stared at your face, trying to study this special little stranger I had carried
so long and now was suddenly trying to become acquainted with.... You had a
slight ridge on the top of your head where the bony pallets overlapped each
other. We asked your brothers and sister what name we should give your. Chad
and Rachel liked "David" (your Uncle David babysat them while daddy
and I were at the hospital giving you birth, and they followed him around like
tiny shadows)
Eric liked "Grandma Brown" and
"Kent". Daddy and I liked Philip (your uncle David's middle name, and
your great, great, grand father's name) but I didn't want you to be a
"Phil" all your life. The hospital recorder went home for the weekend
and told me to call her early Monday morning with your name. For some reason, I
just couldn't give you a name that would fit you and represent you your whole
life. Of course, a name is what you make it...but a name also represents you
too. I finally settled on Ryan Philip.
Ryan is Celtic and means "capable
executive". Philip is Hebrew and means "lover of horses". I
wanted something that would connote quiet strength and integrity, yet
sensitivity, grace, and guileless--many of the same qualities your Uncle David
has.
Your daddy said he felt a real deep sense of
responsibility now he had 3 little boys. He felt a real spiritual desire to be
a good role model, set a good example. I thought how I needed to take care of
my little boys` father to make sure he'd live a long and healthy life and could
help raise 3 fine young men.
The Other Children Meet Ryan Philip
Suzanne: Chad was very excited to have a
little brother and again announced that his prayers had been answered. Rachel
was somewhat disappointed you were not a girl, but became pacified to learn
you'd be sleeping in her room (much to the jealousy of her 2 other brothers who
wanted you in their room), and that your name started with an R like hers. She
has really become a little mother to you and a big help to me. You are almost
as big as she is, and she lugs you around the house to wherever she is playing,
gives you her toys to suck and clutch, props you on her blankets and pillows
beside her in every room and in front of the TV with her. She loves to get you
laughing and change your paper diapers by herself (faster than me), wash your
hair, and laugh at you. She brought you to school for sharing the week she was
Yankee Doodle Dandy in kindergarten and showed her classmates how efficiently
she could change your diapers. All the children wanted to touch, kiss, and hold
you.
Ryan's Blessing
September 4, 1983, we blessed Ryan in Fast and
Testimony Meeting. Chad bore his testimony. He said that he was grateful for
his grandma and grandpa and his new baby. Kent bore his testimony too. He told
about noticing that Eric had his shoes on the wrong feet one day. When he told
him, Eric looked up at him and said: "But Daddy, I can't change my
feet!"
Mom: September 4, 1983, we blessed Ryan in
Sacrament Meeting (9:00am) Grandma and Grandpa Brown, Uncle David, Uncle
Charles and Barbara Brown, Aunt Judy and Uncle Mike Wooten, Great Grandma
Breiten, Grandpa and Grandma Gardiner, Great Aunt Audrey Kroksh, Uncle Mark and
Aunt Karen Gardiner and their children came out and attended Sacrament Meeting.
The male members of the family stood in the circle when Daddy blessed Ryan--and
one dear member of our ward, Clyde Nelson, the membership clerk. Kent called
him about 8:00 in the morning about a card to fill out before the blessing, and
he mistakenly thought we were inviting him to be a part of the priesthood
circle. Clyde Nelson has been a friend of our family for seven years; an
outstanding man of tremendous faith, humility, kindness, good nature and
humor--qualities I would be proud to have a son of mine develop. Clyde is one
of those rare guileless individuals who inspire deep love, affection and
loyalty in others for him. It was a privilege to include him.
Ryan was blessed by his father that--
--His body would function properly and work
well.
--His spirit would shine forth and all who
would see Him would know that he is a child of God.
--He would be a contented child and enjoy his
time in his home and family; He mother would know how to care for him
appropriately, and enjoy caring for him; that he would be able to
feel the love and caring given to him.
--He would be blessed in his life to grow up
in the church, fill a mission, and enjoy those who are in the gospel.
While his father was blessing him, I prayed
silently a mother's blessing that Ryan would be righteous, humble, sensitive
(to the Spirit and others needs) his whole life, and that he would be a father
in Zion. As I prayed this, the Spirit bore witness to me that he was a very
special spirit child of Father in Heaven, fore-ordained to eternal life...Just
as Heavenly Father had once been born as a little child like Ryan, so someday
Ryan would grow to fill the same position as Heavenly Father's.
Chad bore his testimony. He said that he was
grateful for his grandma and grandpa and his new baby.
Kent bore his testimony too. Told about
noticing "Eric had his shoes on the wrong feet one day. When I told him,
he looked up at me and said: 'But daddy, I can't change my feet!' In life we
make mistakes and yet occasionally we feel the Lord's spirit say that we're on
the right track. Today I feel that we're on the right track. I'm thankful for
my children and the spirit that Suzanne presents in our home and all she is
willing to do. Her sweet spirit is all I could want in our home."
Adam Wooten (Ryan's) cousin bore his testimony
too. He said that he knew that the church was true and he loved his parents.
He's about 5 years old and lives in Lakeside, Ca., near San Diego. I think that
its marvelous how the church is the same everywhere, so that a small child
could travel miles away from home, attend a ward for the first time, and yet
feel at home enough to bear his testimony in front of 200 strangers.
I said that I was grateful for my family,
especially my parents, for their righteous teachings and example. The Plan of
Salvation is very dear to me. I know that God is our Father in Heaven, and that
we are His spirit children, created in His image. I know that the gospel is the
way to become like Him and united with our families in the larger family of
God--forever, through the atonement of His son Jesus Christ. I am grateful for
what the gospel can do for ordinary people like myself, and for great people
like the prophet Joseph Smith who are instrumental in helping the Lord make the
gospel available to everyone.
I said that I knew that giving birth to Ryan
was one of the most important things Id ever done, and that in spite of the
difficulties--the physical hardships, the interruption of mission and
genealogy, etc.--millions of years from now I would look back and be grateful
for his birth and our sacrifice. I expressed love and gratitude for those I
served with in my mission: Randy Favero and Mike Padovich (now in the
Bishopric), Nancy Morgan and Margie Stewart, my two companions, and for my
husband, the best companion of all.
1984
Dear Family
I am
really looking forward to my trip to Tennessee Wednesday morning August
8th. I'll be staying with Delbert Jones and his family for the Jones
reunion Sunday August 12th in Algood and returning Wednesday evening August 15
on Republish Airlines. I am hoping that this trip will yield additional
information on the spouses of William Alfred Jone's brother's and sisters, so
that we can submit them for temple ordnance work. Correspondence hasn't
seemed to open up or clarify much information yet.
I'm still waiting to hear from Salt lake Genealogical Society about the names I've already submitted--it's been 3 months now. Hopefully all will clear by early September and we can begin the ordinances with Uncle Wayne and Aunt Norma when they are here September 20 for a visit. I will need to type up all of my information extending our line back from Abby Livesay Jones to her great grandfather Thomas Livesay - send copies to all of you, and to our ancestral file in Salt lake as well
I know that this is a great work and that many of our forebears on this line have accepted the gospel.
1984
Dear Family,
Well,
this was a very special month in our family history. In calling the L.A. temple
to arrange the baptisms for our family names before Aunt Norma, Uncle Wayne and
Great Aunt Peggy came into town, I discovered that the temple had already
performed the ordinance work for most of our family names. The baptism,
endowment and sealing was completed in August by temple patrons for Granddad
Jones, his brothers (including Perry Henderson) and William Alfred Jones and
his full brothers and sisters. This was very disappointing to say the least.
But the good news is I was able to stop the release of John Jones and Abby Livesay's names, 4 of Abby's sisters, 1 Brother, and two of John Jones son's by his first marriage.
Kent and I did the proxy baptisms for them Thursday September 20, then we were endowed for John and Abby and Norma , Wayne ,m Grandma, Peggy, Jim, Carol and mom did the others. Saturday, September 22 we did the sealing of these individuals to their parents, plus the sealing of John Jones to his two wives, Luncinda Upton and Abby Livesay? There was a particularly sweet feeling accompanying each of the ordinances - but more especially during the marriage sealings. Many of us shed a few tears and there was no doubt that John Jones appreciated and wanted this ordinance work done for him and his family. We were grateful to be a part of it and apologized to the rest of you for not giving you greater notice so that you could participate as well. Now that we know a bit more what we are doing and how to do it, when more family names clear, we will notify each of you ahead of time.
We need each family to fill out the Family Group Sheet that I am sending you, Judy is copying and mailing them. Then mail it immediately to mother. She will then get me copies so that I can mail them in to the Livesay and Jones Family Societies.
Kent has finished off his Math Books and is sending them out as orders come in. It is too early to tell yet how successful they will be. but we are making money. Chad has just finished earning his "Wolf" in cubs and will be receiving his badge the end of the month at Pack Meeting. He also has 2 arrows, a gold and a silver coming too....Rachel has completed her piano Book #1 and will be starting in Book #2 this week. Eric is excited to be going to school" Fun for 4's a pre-kindergarten course offered in the afternoons at the elementary school. Ryan is walking all over the house and occasionally tries to say "Night-Night" "here," "See". and "Thanks you" He loves to empty our bookshelves, carry the books around and climb up on our tables. Whoops he just fell off one....
Everything okay. I've been enjoying the Louis L'Amour books I borrowed from my cousin Delbert Jones.
Lots of
Love
Suzanne, Kent and family
1985 January
Dear Family,
It was
great to see J.T and have everyone back together again this Christmas. We
thoroughly enjoyed the get together at Mark's home. We are having a great
time out in Saugus. To update you on the latest in the way of family news:
Chad is
in Cub Scouts working on his slot car (pinewood derby), finished with his
soccer games and in his spare time he is quite a fine artist.
Rachel
just had her 7th birthday. She got a special doll and she has decided to join
the Brownies with some of her friends from school. She is a good little reader
in fact she read all of her birthday cards herself.
Eric is
full of enthusiasm and love for everyone. He is going to a couple of
pre-schools, one at school and one community preschool. He enjoys building and
playing in the playhouse.
Ryan
likes his bottle and his "nanny" and the cat in that order. He is
cheerful and loves to kiss and hug his daddy. He can now attend the nursery
because he is a year and a half.
Suzanne
is in the Stake YW presidency and has many projects including an exercise and
scripture reading program. She's tough to keep up with. Kent is buying
three investment homes and looking for others. He is also involved in some goal
setting and self improvement. He's running, reading and ran the basketball
program for the Stake this year.
We hope
this letter finds all of you well and happy. I ran by the Golden Gate home
the other day. The neighborhood has really taken a beating. The old house
now has been added on to, it has bars on all the windows and a no
trespassing sign out in front with a chain
link
fence in front. I became very melancholy seeing what Grandfathers dream
had become. I even drove by his Presbyterian church to see if the
minister might remember Grandpa. I knocked on the door. No answer. I
walked around front only to see the name of the new minister
Dr. Yoo along with funny symbols. So much for that idea.
It is
sometimes difficult to let go of the past but kinda nice to remember how
things were. There have been a lot of changes.
With love from our family to you
and yours,
Dear
Family:
February 5, 1985
Well,
Saturday night on a sail boat in Marina Del 2ey with old friends Terry and
Debbie Blocker, Wayne and Marla Hedges, and Wayne and Janet Kalama, I was
officially inducted into the big "3O" Club. I guess I have
finally arrived at the age of reason and responsibly. (Albeit My
typewriter still hasn't learned to type very well). This has been a rather
painful maturation process, but the blow was softened somewhat by the
support of good friends. Thanks to all for their cards, etc.
I am
listening to my "Best of Three Dog Night" birthday present from Kent
(and reveling in nostalgia) and hosting brother-in-law
Mike
Wooten who is job-hunting here in the L.A. area. Anybody want to hire a
soon-to-be wealthy and successful retail manager? Kent
has taken Chad with him to help him clean up his 3rd St. E. 1)4 acre horse
property in Lancaster. It's an REQ that he hopes to pull $20-
BIG ONES
out of and still retain half ownership in refinancing through
Lancaster
Mortgage with a "Carry Mac" loan....He's into Stake Basketball
Playoffs
as stake physical activities chairman and doing
so well
that the stake has turned down two requests from our ward to put
him in major ward leadership positions, in the last month alone.
Chad has
his pinewood derby all carved and painted and ready
or next
Cu pack meeting. Rachel has joined Brownies and is at a meeting right now,
anxious to get her uniform and be official....Eric is in the back yard with a
host of neighborhood "chums" digging furiously in the garden
with some metal "swords" that have been confiscated from a scrapheap carted
home by Kent from one of his investment properties.
Ryan has
temporarily laid off sucking toothpaste tubes to pursue his
second
favorite past-time, which is dragging a rather reluctant "Chita"
(our
kitten) around the back yard by his neck.
Otherwise
all is business as usual. As co-chairman of our stake's BYU Youth
Conference this July I am accepting all activity suggestions...
Kent and Suzanne
Friends
Well,
Saturday night on a small boat in Marina Del Rey with old friends Terry and
Debbie Blocker, Wayne and Marla Hedges, and Wayne and Janet Kalama, I was
officially inducted into the big "3-00" Club. I guess I have finally
arrived at the age of reason and responsibility. (Albeit my typewriter
still hasn't learned to type very well). This has been a rather painful
maturation process, but the blow was softened somewhat by the support of good
friends. Thanks for all the cards, etc.
1986 February 22,
Ashley is Born
After having Ryan, we looked forward to having another child in the family. Ryan had been the model baby. We could take him camping, to the movies, and church was a breeze. He was always happy, content and peaceful. I babysat some older children of two mothers in the ward who were having babies and began to yearn for another baby myself. We talked about conceiving another child in a few months when we thought our financial situation would be improved enough so that we could buy a larger home. We already had four children in our small three-bedroom home and didn’t see how we could fit another one in.
But then surprise! Surprise! The week following Memorial Day, just after we got home from camping in King’s Canyon with the Beitlers, we conceived. For several months previous to this, I had been having some physical problems. and worried about being able to have more children. One afternoon while taking a nap, I was awakened by a male authoritative voice saying very distinctly; “You will have two daughters”. I was working in the stake Young Women’s presidency at the time, and so really hoped that I would have a little girl
That night at the temple, I was thrilled to be proxy for a woman named Rebecca, a name Kent and I had treasured for some time for our next girl, and also the name of my 3rd great grandmother whose temple work had recently been done. We felt that this was an “omen”, as the last temple visit before Rachel’s birth I had been proxy for Rachel Ann.
When discussing the name Rebecca two weeks before with the other children, some of them weren’t sure if they liked it or not. Chad suggested the name Ashley, the name of a girl at school he had a crush on (but wouldn’t admit). There was a darling little girl at Kent’s school named Ashley May, and so he said that if it was a girl, he might nickname her Ashley May. I didn’t like the name May, it sounded too southern-belle-ish. So Rachel’s suggestion was to compromise with the name Ashley Rebecca and we all liked that.
Her favorite things to eat are popsicles, watermelon, bananas, hotdogs, milk, string cheese, graham crackers, cheerios, grapes, bread, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Nutter Butter Cookies, ice chips, and raisin bran cereal. She never really eats a meal; she just snacks all day long. She likes to eat something about every 45 minutes, in between looking at Golden Books and hitting you in the chest while grunting and pointing to the pictures of animals. She wants you to give the sounds that the animals give. This, and going for a ride in her stroller are her two favorite things to do. When she wants something, she comes up and hits you on the leg or points and grunts, lowers her eyebrows and frowns with her whole face when she doesn’t get her own way, and rubs her eyes with her hands when you tell her no. She is rather difficult to resist. She is able to say quite a few words, like” thank you, ma, daddy, amen, ball, bus, meow, kitty cat" but she rarely used this language. Most of the time she just points and says "Tsshhh". She absolutely hates baths, and the mere mention of the subject is enough to send her shrieking from the room. Her father’s dousing of her has her quite traumatized. She does like to put on her little swimsuit and play in the children’s pool at the Association pool here. In fact she loves to drape over her head or around her neck any clothes she finds of her older siblings, and particularly likes some little white sandals she inherited from the Jim White family when they moved.
After having Ryan, we looked forward to having another child in the family. Ryan had been the model baby. We could take him camping, to the movies, and church was a breeze. He was always happy, content and peaceful. I babysat some older children of two mothers in the ward who were having babies and began to yearn for another baby myself. We talked about conceiving another child in a few months when we thought our financial situation would be improved enough so that we could buy a larger home. We already had four children in our small three-bedroom home and didn’t see how we could fit another one in.
But then surprise! Surprise! The week following Memorial Day, just after we got home from camping in King’s Canyon with the Beitlers, we conceived. For several months previous to this, I had been having some physical problems. and worried about being able to have more children. One afternoon while taking a nap, I was awakened by a male authoritative voice saying very distinctly; “You will have two daughters”. I was working in the stake Young Women’s presidency at the time, and so really hoped that I would have a little girl
That night at the temple, I was thrilled to be proxy for a woman named Rebecca, a name Kent and I had treasured for some time for our next girl, and also the name of my 3rd great grandmother whose temple work had recently been done. We felt that this was an “omen”, as the last temple visit before Rachel’s birth I had been proxy for Rachel Ann.
When discussing the name Rebecca two weeks before with the other children, some of them weren’t sure if they liked it or not. Chad suggested the name Ashley, the name of a girl at school he had a crush on (but wouldn’t admit). There was a darling little girl at Kent’s school named Ashley May, and so he said that if it was a girl, he might nickname her Ashley May. I didn’t like the name May, it sounded too southern-belle-ish. So Rachel’s suggestion was to compromise with the name Ashley Rebecca and we all liked that.
Her favorite things to eat are popsicles, watermelon, bananas, hotdogs, milk, string cheese, graham crackers, cheerios, grapes, bread, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Nutter Butter Cookies, ice chips, and raisin bran cereal. She never really eats a meal; she just snacks all day long. She likes to eat something about every 45 minutes, in between looking at Golden Books and hitting you in the chest while grunting and pointing to the pictures of animals. She wants you to give the sounds that the animals give. This, and going for a ride in her stroller are her two favorite things to do. When she wants something, she comes up and hits you on the leg or points and grunts, lowers her eyebrows and frowns with her whole face when she doesn’t get her own way, and rubs her eyes with her hands when you tell her no. She is rather difficult to resist. She is able to say quite a few words, like” thank you, ma, daddy, amen, ball, bus, meow, kitty cat" but she rarely used this language. Most of the time she just points and says "Tsshhh". She absolutely hates baths, and the mere mention of the subject is enough to send her shrieking from the room. Her father’s dousing of her has her quite traumatized. She does like to put on her little swimsuit and play in the children’s pool at the Association pool here. In fact she loves to drape over her head or around her neck any clothes she finds of her older siblings, and particularly likes some little white sandals she inherited from the Jim White family when they moved.
1986
Dear Kent,
Yesterday afternoon after you left I took a
nice nap, then went swimming with the kids. When we got home, we made the beds,
cleaned the house, ate hamburgers for dinner, watched "Airwolf", read
some books and went to bed. This morning, Eric and Rachel did Chad's route and
I called the Signal.
This afternoon the children are watching
Faulty Towers; there's nothing really on TV. We've already done journals. At
4:00pm we're going to eat and take a walk around the tract to deliver swimming
cards, then come home for a bowl of ice cream and Disney.
In church today, Kevin Large bore a very
moving testimony about his decision to go on a mission and how grateful he was
for the church's true principles, including no paid ministry, which allowed him
to serve in the Bishopric and fumble around. Then Shandra Fornash told about
her doubts about her marriage outside the church and her fiancé’s interest in
the Book of Mormon, fascination with her family, and friendship with another
LDS young man on his ship. They are holding meetings, praying and studying
together. She expressed her love for her brothers and sisters and her parents
in a very sweet way.
We had only three girls in class today--Amber,
Jessica, and Rebecca M. Today is Corey Greenlaw's farewell. Terry Beitler
showed up with about 8 of his scouts on their way to scout camp in Catalina.
The Conkling and Andrus babies were blessed. Chris Conkling didn't know what to
say and so he and the Bishop had a hurried up whispered conference while his
male family members all stood around the circle and everyone in the audience
waited with baited breaths. Lorna and Rich bore very sweet testimonies about
the joy of having another child in their homes.
Ryan is bored and hungry. Eric broke his fast
early with my okay. (He sure gets in a bad mood when he is hungry.) Everybody
is safe and healthy. I wish I'd thought of your pants and belt early enough for
you to have them up with you. I'll write you again tomorrow; right at this
moment Ryan is setting the timer on me to fix dinner.
I love you very much and I miss you too
(especially at night).
XXX, Suzanne
P.S. The refrigerator is working just fine.
I'm taping "the Major and the Minor" with Ray Milland for us to
watch.
P.S.S. I still can't find the envelopes.
April 30. 1987
Dear
Family.
Time is certainly moving along for us. During
the last couple of weeks-Kent made the decision to teach one half time next
year, we put two roads into our land to get better access. a close friend of
our family died. Suzanne switched church jobs to work with the scouts and our
bishop fell into some marital problems.
In our own family Jeff blessed us with a
computer, Eric, Ashley, Rachel Kent and Suzanne had birthdays, Suzanne's
mothers cancer stabilized and Ashley began to walk. Amid all of this our family
is doing well, enjoying the IBM and everyone is in love with little Ashley with
the tittering walk and the big smile. I guess it is during times of crisis and
times of mourning for loved ones that we stop and think how very precious life
really is and how happy we are to have each other, We really do appreciate our
family and the gospel and each day of life that we have.
1987 April
Dear
Esther,
I am sorry to be slow in responding to your
sweet letter about my mother. You may know that for the last couple of
years my mother had painful arthritis in her hip and joints and also the
beginning stages of Parkinson's Disease (Parkinson's is marked by uncontrolled
tremor, slowness of movement, and rigidity. It is eventually a crippling,
irreversible disorder.) Last Summer after a kidney stone was removed, she
felt better than she had in a long time and went to China with my dad and a
group of doctors on a goodwill mission. It was a marvelous experience for
them. Before they left, my older sister and her family came down for a
visit from Yuba City and it was the first time all six of us children had been
together for several years. We had a family picture taken and planned
many family outings, etc. We have some special memories of that Summer
together.
Then around Thanksgiving she began to feel poorly
again and we thought it was some more kidney trouble. But by Christmas
the pain was excruciating, her stomach was bloated and her posture was
lopsided. An X-ray showed some crushed and disintegrating post-polio
syndrome, but a biopsy indicated malignant cancer,. Further tests
indicated that this cancer did not originate in the bone and was spread
throughout her body. Many of these same tests given to her last Spring
before her kidney operation had shown nothing then but now did--given us to
believe that it was a very fast acting cancer and that she might
only have a few weeks or months to be with us. She was in a great deal of
pain and it was very difficult for her to move around or even get out of
bed. The more tests she had seem to give no new information except what
or where the cancer was not.
Because of the brittle condition of the bones
in her back and hip she had some radiation treatments there. These made
her very sick at first, but additional X-rays showed no spread of the cancer
from those points, which made us all more hopeful. Because of the doctors
are unable to pinpoint the exact point of origination, they are uncertain as to
the best treatment for it other than pain medication. But with the
passing of weeks, the pain has lessened and she has become more mobile, and
able to get up and around better. There are no new symptoms of the cancer
and we think it may be in a slight remission. During Easter Vacation, my
older sister and family came down again for a visit and Belva Wilcox Jones
Breiten doing the cooking.
As you know, my parents have a very sweet and
While it would be nice to keep my mother around forever, death seems an
inevitable part of the plan of life and it is sometimes a blessing for those
who suffer. We would not want to see my mother live out many more years
here in mortality in agony, and so we accept the will of God in this matter,
and are comforted by the hope that family unity can continue after death.
In our family prayers we have been praying that the Lord's will may be done,
and that if it is pleasing to him, that she may have time to put her affairs in
order and we can prepare to send her home to God who gave her to us.
These last few weeks we have videotaped her and my father talking about their
courtship and marriage. personal history, and values that they hope their
children and grandchildren can appreciate and gain from. She's been
assembling some scrapbooks and going over some papers she's collected over the
years. She is certain that this physical respite that she is going
through is due to the faith and prayers of so many friends and loved ones.
Perhaps most remarkable about all of this is
her beautiful and inspirational spirit. Sometime in January when she was
in so much pain, she decided that while all of us must fact a Goliath in our
lives that we need to slay like David of old, her Goliath was not the illness
itself, but her attitude towards it, and how she made those around her
feel. It is not unusual to see her lying in bed, surrounded by children
and grandchildren, passing out candies and other collections, sharing in a
joke, and behaving as graciously as any queen holding court from the most
stately throne. She is delightful to be around, truly an example to us
all. We can not bear to think of life without her, but she surely
teaching us how to live and die with beauty and desire for eternal family
bonds.
We appreciate your interest. If you are
able to drop her a note I know that she would appreciate it too. My
family and I are doing quite well. The children are all healthy and Kent
and I are planning a trip to London in October for a reunion of his. We
own some property in Acton that we are developing and selling. Kent still
teaches Elementary School but next year he'd like to teach just half time and
develop land the rest. We'd love to talk my older sister Johanna into
moving down to Southern California with the rest of us but her family seems to
like the rural agricultural life of Northern California. Her husband is a
CPA for a credit union. My brother Jim is moving to 29 Palms for his
medical residency in July (That's in the desert beyond San Bernardino).
He is currently finishing up his internship at Camp Pendleton. My younger
sister Judy and her family are planning to move up our way in June from San
Diego way--her husband is a sales rep for a industrial computer software firm
and would like to move closer to work. Charlie and his family are home
from BUIU, he’s looking for a clerkship with a law firm. He has about 2
years left of law school. David is living at home this year and going to
school--he's thinking about a medical career like his older brother and father
too.
We hope that all is well with you. Give
e our regards to everyone there. I guess Delbert Jones has contacted you
about the Jones Reunion. He is a very dear man, who just had an aorta
valve replaced last week with surgery. I hope that you can go back
to the reunion sometime. I understand Isaac Jones grandchildren are going
to try to go back this year also (Francis Blaylock Jones's children--remember
when you first introduce me to their 9+ years ago. Again we appreciate
your concern. Lots of love
Suzanne Brown Gardiner
1987 June 9
Sealings
I had a most unusual morning Sat. June 6. I went to the temple to see my
grandmother sealed by proxy to her first husband my granddad
Jones and my mother and aunt and proxy for my deceased infant
uncle sealed to both my grandparents.
My grandmother had divorced my grandfather
when my mom and aunt had grown and left home after years of nothing in common,
no interest in the church on his part and some indication of unfaithfulness to
her on his part. My grandmother wrote in her history that she had been very
much in love with him when she first married him despite the strong
protestations of her Father because he was not a member. She had always been
very active in the church and had had an LDS boyfriend for several years but he
had become interested in someone else and she met George, end could
t see that their different values and up bringing and -family lifestyles would
pull them apart over the years.
She came
to California a after the divorce . became a. stake missionary, and taught
the gospel to her next husband who was baptized before their subsequent
marriage. She went to the temple with him (Leroy Olsen) and was
quite happy -for a -Few years until he began to show signs of being mentally
unbalanced. He became abusive and she divorced him. She met another
non LDS man at a dance club and married him That marriage was soon annulled
because he was not completely honest with her.
Then she met a nice, lonely widower at the
same dance club she sent the missionaries to him. He was baptized and they were
soon married. He was very sweet to her but I do not think that they had very
much in common and he did not truly understand the church although he was a
very good man.
I recently helped her write her life history
and now in her 80s she' s been thinking about her life and sorrowing over not
having her children sealed to her and their father5 She approached her Bishop
about this and the matter never went any further.
Since then I have miraculously been able to
submit for temple work approximately 50 Jones relatives and direct ancestor
names, including Granddad Jones his brothers, father, uncles and aunts,
grandparents and great grandparents5. While we could not serve
as proxy for all of them, many off ones that we were able
to do the work for had such a sweet, if not at times
powerful accompanying spirit that there was no doubt in our minds and
hearts that there was a great missionary work going on beyond the veil in that
family. I felt as if the church was organized there like it is here only by
families, not by geographic boundaries, and that each family was presided over
by a righteous patriarch and matriarch who were anxious to organize and red aim
their all of their posterity.
When my mother became so ill and seemed on
death's door last February, my grandmother again approached her Bishop (a new
one) who immediately called Salt Lake and counseled her to write a letter
requesting a cancellation of sealing to her second husband. prepatory to being
sealed to her first. She did and received prompt approval then set up this seal
inn with the temple and all the family. ii of her posterity who could be there
was in attendance • and my father a temple sealer performed ordinance.
(He says that he doesn’t know of any other man lucky enough to marry their
wife' s parents.
I confess to feeling quite odd about this
beforehand, considering the straightness of the path”, and the
break up of that marriage in mortality. (Granddad died in about 1967 from a
heart attack. He' d been a heavy smoker and was living with his second wife.
I was afraid to tell anyone because I wasn't
sure if it was all right or not. The Jones side of the family had always
seemed the black sheep side of the family because they were not members, and
yet we all knew that wonderful things were happening among them in the spirit
world. Every thing did seem to fall into place for this sealing after all these
years, and my grandmother was very visibly moved. She said that she was
grateful to the Lord for this second chance to correct mistakes that had
been made.
There was a sweet spirit there. I bore
testimony that there was a great work being done among our Jones relatives in
the Spirit World and that perhaps the gospel was being explained to Granddad
Jones in a way that he could understand and accept, My mother and aunt said
that they had long secretly hoped for this day but did not think that it would
ever happen. My grandmother 's younger sister Judith Li rid was there also and
she told about caring for my grandmother 's infant premature son who was born
on their -farm when she was a teenager and grandmother had come home to have
the baby. She described holding him near the oven to keep him warm, and when he
died burying him in a doll 's dress while her dad Great Grandpa Wilcox
dedicated the grave. (My grandmother Just last year re-found that grave,
erected a gravestone and donated some money f or the upkeep of the small
cemetery,)
My dad told o-f an incident in his childhood
in which he had accidentally set fire to a tree near- his house
which spread to the house and caused considerable damage and trouble before it
was put out. It was in Mesa, which is so flat that the fire could be seen for
miles around, caused quite a bit of commotion and attention from everybody. (
great crowd had gathered and my dad wanted to find someplace to hi do but there
was none. Finely the fire was out and everyone was dispersing. He looked over
and saw all his brothers and sister gathered safely around his father under a
tree and he knew that he was outcast and not in the same circumstances as they
were in. He looked around and wondered what to do. His father
looked over at him, and held his arms out to him. He said he ran and jumped
into his fathers arms, grateful to be part of the group again. His dad is still
alive, and in the 1st 57 years since this incident his dad has never mentioned
it to him.
Perhaps our Father in Heaven is much more
willing to -forgive and gather us in like chicks under his Wings than we
realize
13 July 1987
Marjorie is Very Sick
This past weekend I wrote to my
mother. She is ailing now quite badly,
stays in bed near all the time can barely move around, dozes off in
conversations forgets things and even imagines things occasionally. She wrote a
very touching poem to my father called He says, She says, describing how he
tells her that he loves her and she says that she needs his love now. . After
40 years of marriage he does everything for her now, bathes her dresses her •
etc. and she misses the touch of his hands. My dad says that the little
intimacy that there is so much sweeter than anything they had when they were
first married. All the prayers for her must be helping him to make it
through. He says this is a particularly trying time for him. His father
just died Sunday. His best friend Bishop Cluff is no longer coherent and is due
to die any day. My dad is paying for us children to -fly to Arizona to Grandpa
Brown' s funeral, and I 've been asked to give some remarks. The next file date
over is some notes I made for this occasion.
1987 Summer
Dear
Joy School Family,
This has been a treat year of social growth
for the children your child like mine, has probably wanted to go to joy school
every day the week and if you were like me, you were probably glad to send
him/her but dreaded it when it was your turn to teach If you are 1ike me you
probably also wandered if your child was the worst one for all the other
mothers like he/she was -for you when you were the teacher. Well , over all
this has been a good year though and the -friendships between the families has
been an extra nice bonus too. But I am 1ookinq forward to something different f
or next year
I am in favor of the Preschool Program at. Santa
Clarita Park next year Tuesday/Thursday , or
Mon/Wed. The price is only $65,) per
trimester There are some other good programs. in the valley and I don ‘t
think we need to feel that we have to keep the children all together again but
they have enjoyed the association and I think they may adapt better if they are
with some of their –friends. Those interested in the Park program
please contact me and we a11 all keep an eye and ear open for when registration
is in August. We ‘ll need to en to be there very early to he certain that
our children get in.
Joy School graduation will be Thursday night
June 4th at 6:00 pm at the park above the pool on Hyssop. Each
family should bring a picnic dinner -for their own family, a plate of cookies
to share, and some kind of -family presentation to give in
-front of the group. It could be a family song, slogan, skit, flag, display,
Story talent show, magic act, pantomime, came1 you
name it. Something simple that represents your whole -family. The
program will be over by 7 pm Please let me know immediately if there is a
conflict of schedule that we can arrange a new time when everyone can he there.
This will be a really special program to the children as a -finale to the whole
year 's work
You are a wonderful dedicated group of
families. Your children are my son' s best friends, and you mothers are some of
mine. I will miss this close association that we've had, and I know that Ryan
will be wandering when the next Joy school is the day after graduation, East
Wishes -for a relaxing Summer Vacation.
Sincerely,
Suzanne Gardiner
29 July 1987
Marjorie’s Funeral
When we returned from Grandma Brown's funeral
Monday, I thought perhaps we shouldn't go through with our camping trip planned
-Far later in the week since my mother was so near death's door. But my dad
said that there was really nothing I could do by staying in town my mother
couldn’t really visit with me (she was kind of in a dreamland mast of the
time) , and he wouldn’t have the funeral until the -following Monday after we
got back so that the temple workers could came while the temple was closed. So
Tuesday evening Kent and I decided we would go -for it before the kids had to
start school on Monday with the four---vacation plan. I went out shopping while
Kent helped the children pack and put together the camping supplies and we got
up at 2:00 am Wednesday morning and slept while Kent drove us up to Red' s
Meadow above Mammoth
1987 Wednesday the 22
Camping
We set up camp and just sort of hung around,
resting and we celebrated Ryan's birthday by going to Swenson's for ice cream.
Later we went to the Fireside Program in the evening at Devils Postpile that
was put on by Ranger Gary Ogden. We sang songs and saw a slide show on birds
and their calls up in the Sierras. Ashley loved the bird sounds. We froze
during the night and I went back to nursing Ashley in order to keep her quiet
and warm during the night.
Thursday morning Kent tried unsuccessfully
fished in the morning with all three boys (Ryan was a problem). At 11:00am we
went on a hike to Devils Postpile National Monument with Ranger Ogden, then
Eric, Chad and I continued on with him to Rainbow Falls. It was very interesting
listening to him talk about Nature, our Environmental problems and his
philosophy of Science in general. He felt that religion is opposed to science
(he said this while I was wearing my BYU sweatshirt) , that knowledge is
discovered through scientific investigation, and that change and evolution is
basic to life and truth. Too bad he didn’t have an understanding of spiritual
evolution and constant revelation through the prophets in all generations. Eric
wee very tired on the way back -from the falls and I think he used up twice as
much energy as Chad and I by throwing himself and his socks down on the ground
every few feet. I forget sometimes that he is only seven years old. We saw dad
leaving camp to go find us an our return and we went to the local store -for
treats and then the hikers showered in those wonderful hot spring showers. I
considered calling home to -find out how mother was doing, but decided that I
really didn't want to know. There was nothing I could do, it would spoil our
camping trip for the children if there was bad news.
Friday we went to Minaret Falls and I read
Bendigo Shafter by Louis Lamour all day while Kent and the children -fished. He
has been dying to catch a fish on a camping trip ever since we've been married,
so we even prayed that he would finally be able to. Another camper there had
showed him a few things the night before at the same spot, and he was
determined to Well he let Rachel use the pole and he rigged fishing poles with
sticks and spare line and first fish on one of these he was so excited shout
some distance away. He caught another and Chad both caught a fish. Then just
before same man who showed Kent how helped Eric catch succeed this time. up
some substitute finally caught his I could hear him one too and Rachel we went
home, the two fish, the last one which was the biggest catch of the day
slipped out a-f his hands as he was pulling him from the water. Now he has his
'fish story" about the big one that got away. We came back to camp, all
had wonderful showers again, then ate hot dogs and fried fish.
The next day we packed up and drove north
towards Mono Lake. I love to sightsee and travel, so Kent agreed to go on one
unusual venture on the way home. The lake was a spectacle with its tufa towers
and brine flies in the middle of the desert surrounded by snow-capped peaks.
Then we hiked up to Fanum Crater--most recent volcano (600 years old in the
eastern Sierras. :[t felt like we were walking on pottery pieces and the
children picked up chunks a-f obsidian, We came home over Tioga. Pass and down
through Yosemite. It was breathtaking but very long drive--adding about three
more hours (excruciating with Ashley along).
We drove up to the house about 8:30 and at
8:45 I called home. Johanna answered the phone and then I knew that my worst
fears (and yet hopes for I did not want my mother to linger on in her
suffering) were realized, Barbara told me about how my mother had slept most of
Wednesday, and then died in my father 'a arms about 9:15pm Wednesday evening.
One o-f the last things she said to him as he gave her a pain shot
(the pain mcdi ne usually made her very sick to her stomach, but the last few
days she hadn't been well, it still hurt?. I wept as she told me this and that
she and Carol had helped Joyce Osborn and Gene Stone dress my mother 'a body in
her temple clothes. Then my father walked in the house -from buying milk and
talked to me, He filled in some more of the above information. He seemed in
good spirits, telling me that he had performed an autopsy that
revealed tumor of the liver, very rare, usually only present in
patients who have had hepatitis. He also asked me to give eulogy at her
funeral.
She died the way that I prayed she would die,
in my father's arms, rather quickly. Yet I could not sleep well until after
Kent cradled me awhile and I sobbed a few tears. It seems like mothers are
never supposed to die. . . .they are always supposed to be there for you when
you need them.
The next morning early we went out to be with
the family, meeting them all at church. My dad was very emotional to see
everyone there. My grandma and aunt Norma and husband Wayne and great aunt
Judith were there also. My dad said that we increased the sacrament meeting
attendance by 38. As he introduced us in Sunday School he told the story about
his grandfather who was in charge of a family Sacrament Meeting and worked to
get everyone there, including those who were inactive, one son, Homer did not
show up and so my great grandfather, Farmer Brown told everyone, "If
anyone sees Homer Frank Brown, would YOU please tell him to come arid join his
kinfolk." There is something about wanting everyone to be gathered around
you, with no one missing.
When Sister Joyce Osborn came in and sat
behind me and told me that. she helped dress my mother and that she looked
beautiful. I felt. an overpowering love for her for doing this for my mother I
kissed her, said thank you, and wept. After church I went. around and kissed
everyone who I knew was a dear friend to my mother and had helped her during
her ii Incas. I know that my mother would have wanted to thank them.
After church, my sisters and sisters-in-law
and I went through my mother's clothes, purses and lingerie. I let. Rachel pick
out some of her shoes, purses, robe, handkerchiefs, etc. I got some lovely
blouses and sweaters, and most of her black purses. My dad also let Rachel take
home the old stove that was her treasured toy when she was a little girl and
kept by her bedside the last few months before her death. Mother had said that
she thought
that it should go the oldest
granddaughter. Rachel loves it
and has it set up so nice on her chest of drawers with a piece of crocheted linen under it that used to Belanglo my mom. These things will help us channel our grief I think.
and has it set up so nice on her chest of drawers with a piece of crocheted linen under it that used to Belanglo my mom. These things will help us channel our grief I think.
I asked Pres. Mayo Smith at church if he would
trade places with me on the program and do the eulogy and let me say the
closing prayer, but he refused. He said that he thought that I ought to do it,
that it would be better coming from someone in the family. I wept some more; I
felt so inadequate and incapable 0+ emotionally making it through. But when I
got home Sunday nite I watched the video tapes we made of her life history this
past Spring and made some notes, staying up until midnight. (I had not seen all
of them before this). The next morning I reviewed the short childhood history
that my grandmother wrote of her and listened to the tape of her testimony that
we took in January when we first learned of her illness’. Then I used
this information to type up two pages of notes (filed under mother). I
knew that I did not have time to type these out completely but these notes
helped me recall and outing in her life story. Monday morning Felice Smith
called me and told me that she and Mayo especially remembered me in their
prayers that morning and that she had given the eulogy at her mother * s
funeral. She spoke very encouragingly and sweetly to me.
Before the service my dad was very emphatic
about there being a closed casket during the family viewing and prayer, because
it did not look like her at all. He said that it was better that way because
this way it made it easier for him to Let her go. I know that Johanna had said
that she remembered mom saying to her once that she wanted a closed casket, so
she got her wish. We children had all gone in on a lovely arrangement (of red
roses and carnations) from Sister Creighton to go on the top of the casket, which
was of a beautiful oak, and we put on top her picture taken three years ago
before her health declined and the one of the family taken last year.
As soon as my mom's friends started to arrive
like Sister Stone who helped to dress my mother like Joyce Osborn I burst into
tears. I bell eve that I felt my mother's love and appreciation for them, for
their loving attentive service during her illness and at the end I didn't know
how I would make it through the eulogy at all. I went up to the stand with
Pres. Mayo Smith and Joics Stone. My dad had wanted me originally to take only
10 minutes but I did not feel I could do her justice in that short amount of
time and that it would be unsatisfying to the many (700? people who came to
honor- her. Barbara L. Brown, my sister-in-law encouraged me to
take as long as I wanted, that the funeral should be about her. I felt that by
telling her life history, the righteous decisions that she had made, and her
values, that attributes would speak -for themselves as tribute, that others may
perhaps learn how and why our family has been so blessed over the years, and
that it would be a testimony itself of the truthfulness of the gospel.
As soon as I began to speak, a calm composure
came over me and somehow I found myself actually enjoying telling the stories
about her. I broke down twice, once when I told about her death and said that
no queen on earth could have lived or died better than she did. After the
service, I had many, many people tell me how much they enjoyed and appreciated
my remarks, that it helped them to know and appreciate my mother better. One
doctor friend of my father's said that he was used to funerals being so sad but
that he found himself feeling exhilarated I know that the audience chuckled,
wept, and marveled with me as I spoke. I told a few people later that a miracle
had taken place that enabled me to make it through. In a way it was a chance to
redeem myself for being rebellious and outspokenly disrespectful towards her in
my earlier years. Ann, my dad's office nurse told ire that through my remarks
she had received an answer to a problem that had been bothering her about her
mother-in-law. I know that when the Lord helps me that I have been given a gift
in speaking before an audience. (Perhaps I preached the gospel in the spirit
world, for I certainly have not had tremendous experience or learning in this
area of public speaking.)
There was a very sweet spirit there, I'm sure
due mostly to the righteousness of my lovely mother as anything. Rachel said
that she felt that grandma was there in spirit. I know that she would have
enjoyed the funeral. The mission president spoke on the purpose of the gospel
is -for families to be together eternally. My mother said once at a 5F meeting
(family, friends, food, fun, and ? with Cliffs, Ellaworths, Olsens, and
McEwans) that she didn't feel that she had brought anyone into the church. And
so my father wanted the gospel preached at her funeral for the nonmembers
(mostly medical associates and neighbors) in hopes that someone may touched
through her death. The concluding speaker was Pres. Jack McEwan, L..A. Temple
president speaking on the purpose of temple work is to unite families, and
the purpose of the gospel as a whole to try and perfect us through trials and
service. It was one of the most truly moving and spiritually sensitive talks I
have ever heard. I was grateful that the stake center videotaped the funeral so
that I could re-listen to his remarks again later. My father gave a few brief
remarks at the end, thanking everyone for all their kindnesses, and admonishing
everyone to continue in their love and service to one another. Dr. Hans Günter
and his wife Joan, who went to China with my folks said that while he had even
served with Dr. Albert Schweitzer for a couple of years, that my mother' s
funeral service was one of the most spiritual meetings he had ever attended.
After the service we caravanned up to the
gravesite at the top of Rose Hills (in the Deseret Section) overlooking the San
Gabriel Valley for a lovely graveside service. My father dedicated the grave,
and Bishop Bell the LDS mortician had chocolate chip cookies for all the
grandchildren, I gave the temple president's wife permission to take two big
basket' s of flowers to the temple, and we took: a potted plant of mums which I
later gave to a sister in the ward with M.S. There was a nice dinner at the
ward for us by the Relief Society.
Ryan stayed glued to my dad the whale day,
wouldn't leave his side at all except when my dad gave his few remarks at the
end of the funeral, and then he cried and wanted to came up and be with us. He
cried quite a bit afterwards about wanting to see the grandma that died, and
pestered us all the way home with questions about death and grandma until I
couldn't stand it any longer. He even began again the next morning. I showed
him the hand and glove analogy of the spirit and body, and prayed that the Lord
would help him to understand. It must have worked because the next afternoon
over lunch at a neighbor child's home he told the whale family about grandma's
spirit being with Jesus and that he had all the power and was going to bring
grandma back to grandpa again.
1987 August 10
Dear
Family,
This has been a tearful, exciting
fun filled summer for the
Saugus Gardiners. Suzanne's mother passed in
the arms of her husband. Her last words were, will it hurt anymore?
Jim said no sweetheart and she died that evening. It was a wonderful two
hour service. Suzanne gave the eulogy. She gave a touching history of her
mothers life, service and testimony.
We sold our Acton property and are waiting for
escrow to close. If it does we will be happy, if not we'll go ahead and resell
the property. There is so much at stake, for us, that we've sort of settled
into permanent wonderment at each new turn of events on our land.
A very close missionary buddy of mine who I
have not seen for some time and I got together for the first time in fifteen
years. He has five children and his divorce will be final this week. Our bishop
last year and his wife were Just divorced last week. They had six children.
In contrast to this Suzanne and I have had the
best summer of our lives. The last two months have been a second honeymoon
for L5 After thirteen years the fire burns ever brighter. I wrote
the following paragraph after finding out about my missionary buddy.
It seems. that to be successful in marriage,
one must be considerate and goal oriented. Sensitive consideration for the
other person is very important. Also working together on topics and goals of
mutual interest tend to infuse a relationship with vigor and
meaning. Sometimes one person has special interests
that seem to be very basic to their
personality and character. With Marjorie it was antiques, painting and her
family. With me it is cars, genealogy, my wife and children. The
mate needs to take on at least a degree of interest and achieve at least
some support so that there can be fulfillment in that marriage. This, along
with, sensitive, genuine consideration make a relationship grow and blossom.
We are more grateful than ever for the
gospel and our family.
With love,
1987 July 22
Marjorie’s Death
Tomorrow I am going to my dad's to be there when the cleaners clean the house, and to return a green silk temple apron my Great Step grandmother Wilcox made for my dad. I took it home and mended part of it, re died it, ironed it, and sewed on some new ribbon. It looks quite pretty now. I'm going to clear off the kitchen window ledge, put the food jars up in the cupboards, clear the breakfast room counter, and take care of the dishes out on the counters and sink so that Roger can clean better. I was so excited that my dad agreed to hire him and the floor man for the house I almost cried. Sweet Felice Smith and Joyce Osborn talked my dad into doing this and I know my mother wants it done too.
Tomorrow I am going to my dad's to be there when the cleaners clean the house, and to return a green silk temple apron my Great Step grandmother Wilcox made for my dad. I took it home and mended part of it, re died it, ironed it, and sewed on some new ribbon. It looks quite pretty now. I'm going to clear off the kitchen window ledge, put the food jars up in the cupboards, clear the breakfast room counter, and take care of the dishes out on the counters and sink so that Roger can clean better. I was so excited that my dad agreed to hire him and the floor man for the house I almost cried. Sweet Felice Smith and Joyce Osborn talked my dad into doing this and I know my mother wants it done too.
1987
Marjorie
Pleased
I said that I knew that my mother was very pleased this day. Elaine would bring fine polishing to her efforts with my dad, and be a companion and friend to her children. I assured Elaine's children that there was no one more truly Christ like in their love and obedient than my father, and that he would cherish Elaine and take good care of her for them. I asked Elaine to be patient with us, some of us were still missing my mother, but that we realized what a special person Elaine was. She is far better than we deserve, and we pledge our efforts to be worthy of her sacrifice for us. She would always hold a special place in our hearts for the happiness and meaning she will bring to our father's life.
I told them about our Brown wedding gift of a portrait of the two of them, with a wish to have everyone receive a copy of it for Christmas (including her children). It was something they didn't have, and one that all of us could enjoy too. It is symbolic of our desires that they have a long and happy union together. (I also suggested before sitting down that it wouldn't hurt for her to get chummy with a few repairmen and drapers as well.)
After the luncheon, we picked the children up at the Hiltons, got ready, ate a quick dinner, and went out to the Browns for the reception. It was lovely. Dad and Elaine greeted guests at the bottom of the stairs, then people walked through the living room out the French doors into the back yard for refreshments, put on by the ward Relief Society. Unfortunately, since the Brown house is turned around with the back nearest the driveway and the front overlooking the valley, most people came in the backyard first asking where the married couple were. Chad and Eric helped direct traffic. Kent came late because he ran down to Target to pick something up. Rachel and Ashley were cute as could be in their matching black silk dresses. Ryan wandered around wondering where Grandpa was. Elaine's children left early to catch a plane. We all (Brown family and friends) had kneeling prayer before going home afterwards. Dad was going to take Elaine up to Big Bear to the Smith's cabin for a little honeymoon. I wish them well, but I confess to being a little worried about my dad. The last time he went to that cabin was with my mom and all of us for a Brown reunion one summer.
The next day Jim and his family came by the house to help me with genealogy, but I was lying down for a nap after helping all morning at Rosedale for picture day and I missed him. Oh, well, I was too tired to work on genealogy anyway. Friday we are going to leave to go waterskiing on the King's River with Kent's friend Craig Cunningham.
I said that I knew that my mother was very pleased this day. Elaine would bring fine polishing to her efforts with my dad, and be a companion and friend to her children. I assured Elaine's children that there was no one more truly Christ like in their love and obedient than my father, and that he would cherish Elaine and take good care of her for them. I asked Elaine to be patient with us, some of us were still missing my mother, but that we realized what a special person Elaine was. She is far better than we deserve, and we pledge our efforts to be worthy of her sacrifice for us. She would always hold a special place in our hearts for the happiness and meaning she will bring to our father's life.
I told them about our Brown wedding gift of a portrait of the two of them, with a wish to have everyone receive a copy of it for Christmas (including her children). It was something they didn't have, and one that all of us could enjoy too. It is symbolic of our desires that they have a long and happy union together. (I also suggested before sitting down that it wouldn't hurt for her to get chummy with a few repairmen and drapers as well.)
After the luncheon, we picked the children up at the Hiltons, got ready, ate a quick dinner, and went out to the Browns for the reception. It was lovely. Dad and Elaine greeted guests at the bottom of the stairs, then people walked through the living room out the French doors into the back yard for refreshments, put on by the ward Relief Society. Unfortunately, since the Brown house is turned around with the back nearest the driveway and the front overlooking the valley, most people came in the backyard first asking where the married couple were. Chad and Eric helped direct traffic. Kent came late because he ran down to Target to pick something up. Rachel and Ashley were cute as could be in their matching black silk dresses. Ryan wandered around wondering where Grandpa was. Elaine's children left early to catch a plane. We all (Brown family and friends) had kneeling prayer before going home afterwards. Dad was going to take Elaine up to Big Bear to the Smith's cabin for a little honeymoon. I wish them well, but I confess to being a little worried about my dad. The last time he went to that cabin was with my mom and all of us for a Brown reunion one summer.
The next day Jim and his family came by the house to help me with genealogy, but I was lying down for a nap after helping all morning at Rosedale for picture day and I missed him. Oh, well, I was too tired to work on genealogy anyway. Friday we are going to leave to go waterskiing on the King's River with Kent's friend Craig Cunningham.
1987
England
In January I got a letter from the British South Mission stating that they planned on having a missionary reunion in England during October. We left on October 1, and that morning we had a 6.8 earthquake that had us all rushing for sanctuary under the dining room table. However we were undaunted and we took Ashley, Rachel, and Eric over to the Gardiners and Chad and Ryan over to the Browns.
Suzanne wanted a bus tour of London and I insisted that it was a waste because we were going to see it all anyway. We went to visit St. Paul’s and Westminster Abbey, which was closed and then went home. I learned that Suzanne has a few little needs, as we all do, that need fulfilling. Tours, soup, warmth, a nightly bath, regular food and sweetness are all she needs and she’s mine. The next day I insist that she take a bus tour of London and I walk the shops. Our feet
really ache tonight and the next few days just makes them hurt all the more.
Well, it is back to reality for us after a fairy tale adventure in England. And for us it was just that, a fairy tale. Two weeks alone with Suzanne, was just wonderful we saw three plays, two
in London and Shakespeare in Stratford. We visited small towns, castles, churches, stores and friends. We saw places I had lived in and streets that I had tracted. We went through the temple with 18 other former missionaries and the mission president and his wife. We held an unforgettable testimony meeting at Crawley chapel. We visited with people I had baptized twenty years before and even found that one of their children was having the discussions the very weekend we were there. It was absolutely wonderful to see these people again. One lovely young mother that I taught twenty years ago was pregnant back then and now twenty years later, she was a] pregnant again.
1987 December 31
Well, it is the end of the year. It has been a year of great sweetness and contentment in my personal relationship with Kent and the children, one of sadness and recommitment to the gospel truths through the death of my mother, and one of tremendous frustration financially, as planned escrows have drug on and on, and the depths piled higher and higher.
This past summer was like a second honeymoon for Kent and I, romantically speaking. We slept on the floor in the front room (while Ashley slept in the closet in our room), and developed such a closeness and sensitivity to each other – like many couples finally do after the children are grown and they spend time along together. We loved our trip to England for his mission reunion, it will always have a special place in our memories.
1988, February 8
Suzanne is a strikingly beautiful woman. Composed, thoughtful and intelligent. She usually weights 145 pounds, is 5 foot and 8 and a half inches tall with thick luxurious brunette hair, the kind others envy. Her brown eyes sparkle. She has an attractive figure that looks good in all kinds of clothing. She prefers red, turquoise and black. Traditional clothes are preferred but she is also comfortable in denim and tennis shoes.
Her hands are exquisite. They’re like matching set of doves; moving gracefully across find bone china, quietly resting on cut crystal. Pianists would die for such hands, long graceful ending in long sculptured fingernails.
She is a gifted communicator. With only one meeting people have told me what a wonderful, caring wife I have. She is extraordinary. In front of a group she presents herself as an organized glib, fun filled intelligent speaker. She has presence. Her writing also reflects her ability to communicate. She writes with the clarity, description and directness of English novelists. This is reflected in her extensive journal entries over the last 13 years. They are detailed, sensitive insightful portrayals of herself and her family. She has a phone book of phone numbers memorized, understands and can expound on the scriptures, is gregarious with all types of people and has style and culture. She is a wonderful person and a wonderful wife. Kent
1988 Suzanne, February 8,
In January I got a letter from the British South Mission stating that they planned on having a missionary reunion in England during October. We left on October 1, and that morning we had a 6.8 earthquake that had us all rushing for sanctuary under the dining room table. However we were undaunted and we took Ashley, Rachel, and Eric over to the Gardiners and Chad and Ryan over to the Browns.
Suzanne wanted a bus tour of London and I insisted that it was a waste because we were going to see it all anyway. We went to visit St. Paul’s and Westminster Abbey, which was closed and then went home. I learned that Suzanne has a few little needs, as we all do, that need fulfilling. Tours, soup, warmth, a nightly bath, regular food and sweetness are all she needs and she’s mine. The next day I insist that she take a bus tour of London and I walk the shops. Our feet
really ache tonight and the next few days just makes them hurt all the more.
Well, it is back to reality for us after a fairy tale adventure in England. And for us it was just that, a fairy tale. Two weeks alone with Suzanne, was just wonderful we saw three plays, two
in London and Shakespeare in Stratford. We visited small towns, castles, churches, stores and friends. We saw places I had lived in and streets that I had tracted. We went through the temple with 18 other former missionaries and the mission president and his wife. We held an unforgettable testimony meeting at Crawley chapel. We visited with people I had baptized twenty years before and even found that one of their children was having the discussions the very weekend we were there. It was absolutely wonderful to see these people again. One lovely young mother that I taught twenty years ago was pregnant back then and now twenty years later, she was a] pregnant again.
1987 December 31
Well, it is the end of the year. It has been a year of great sweetness and contentment in my personal relationship with Kent and the children, one of sadness and recommitment to the gospel truths through the death of my mother, and one of tremendous frustration financially, as planned escrows have drug on and on, and the depths piled higher and higher.
This past summer was like a second honeymoon for Kent and I, romantically speaking. We slept on the floor in the front room (while Ashley slept in the closet in our room), and developed such a closeness and sensitivity to each other – like many couples finally do after the children are grown and they spend time along together. We loved our trip to England for his mission reunion, it will always have a special place in our memories.
1988, February 8
Suzanne is a strikingly beautiful woman. Composed, thoughtful and intelligent. She usually weights 145 pounds, is 5 foot and 8 and a half inches tall with thick luxurious brunette hair, the kind others envy. Her brown eyes sparkle. She has an attractive figure that looks good in all kinds of clothing. She prefers red, turquoise and black. Traditional clothes are preferred but she is also comfortable in denim and tennis shoes.
Her hands are exquisite. They’re like matching set of doves; moving gracefully across find bone china, quietly resting on cut crystal. Pianists would die for such hands, long graceful ending in long sculptured fingernails.
She is a gifted communicator. With only one meeting people have told me what a wonderful, caring wife I have. She is extraordinary. In front of a group she presents herself as an organized glib, fun filled intelligent speaker. She has presence. Her writing also reflects her ability to communicate. She writes with the clarity, description and directness of English novelists. This is reflected in her extensive journal entries over the last 13 years. They are detailed, sensitive insightful portrayals of herself and her family. She has a phone book of phone numbers memorized, understands and can expound on the scriptures, is gregarious with all types of people and has style and culture. She is a wonderful person and a wonderful wife. Kent
1988 Suzanne, February 8,
Dear Family,
Suzanne is 33 Years Old Well, I hit a BIG 33 this week. I thought that I'd be more depressed about it than I actually was. I guess I'm too busy with the family, Primary, Scouts, and PTA (and enjoying myself) to stew too much about it. Life does get better with the passage of time, if only we could figure out some way to get wiser without actually aging any. But maybe that's something we get in the Millennial Post Graduate Course.
Well, we still have no money, but not enough sense to believe we're very poor (although two escrows are scheduled to close this Wednesday Finally!). But in our free time, we've been compiling all our journal entries about the children into their personal histories on the computer. Rachel's history alone has over 45 pages more than I think I have on my whole life to date. It has been very fulfilling, renewing all our tender feelings for each other over the years from each child's birth to the present. I recommend this to all of you. With computers it is easy to compile and store information, and it has proven to be one of the most worthwhile undertakings we've ever done.
I came across my journal entry after Jim and Carol's temple wedding. Dad told a story about Elder David B. Haight who used to dream as a boy growing up in the farm fields of Idaho of hitting the winning run in the World's Series and thinking that was the greatest thing that could ever happen to him. Many years later he had the opportunity of performing the sealing for his youngest child, a boy, and as he looked around the room he saw all his children present with their spouses, he realized that this was the greatest dream to have. All of us were there, except for Charlie, who was on his mission. Dad said that this was he and mother's dream as well. A sweeter spirit I have never felt in all my life.
We had a very nice visit with Grandma and Dad on Saturday. The children enjoyed showing off their accomplishments. Chad just finished his Art Merit Badge and will be awarded the Star Rank in Scouting at his next Court of Honor on February 17th. He also won toastmasters in his classroom when he gave a presentation on art and animation. Rachel has been competing in multi regional Soccer games since her team was the All Valley winner in December. She is an avid reader in the Book It program sponsored by Pizza Hut, and is enjoying the Babysitters' Club series. Eric has been enjoying his after school art classes and is looking forward to being baptized next month on his birthday, March 26th. We'll have a family baptism at the stake center on Camp Plenty Road at 3:00pm, followed by dinner and joint Grandpa Brown/Eric birthday celebrations. Ryan, who was just getting over the flu (miraculously cured with M&M's and Root Beer), was Grandpa's special "buddy" the whole visit. Ashley flirted a little with both Grandpa and Grandma Great until falling asleep on the floor beside Kent and the TV (watching the broadcast of BYU's disastrous game with UAB). She came down with a fever during the night like Ryan, and was "cured" in similar fashion. Love y'all.
1988, Thursday, February 25
Suzanne is 33 Years Old Well, I hit a BIG 33 this week. I thought that I'd be more depressed about it than I actually was. I guess I'm too busy with the family, Primary, Scouts, and PTA (and enjoying myself) to stew too much about it. Life does get better with the passage of time, if only we could figure out some way to get wiser without actually aging any. But maybe that's something we get in the Millennial Post Graduate Course.
Well, we still have no money, but not enough sense to believe we're very poor (although two escrows are scheduled to close this Wednesday Finally!). But in our free time, we've been compiling all our journal entries about the children into their personal histories on the computer. Rachel's history alone has over 45 pages more than I think I have on my whole life to date. It has been very fulfilling, renewing all our tender feelings for each other over the years from each child's birth to the present. I recommend this to all of you. With computers it is easy to compile and store information, and it has proven to be one of the most worthwhile undertakings we've ever done.
I came across my journal entry after Jim and Carol's temple wedding. Dad told a story about Elder David B. Haight who used to dream as a boy growing up in the farm fields of Idaho of hitting the winning run in the World's Series and thinking that was the greatest thing that could ever happen to him. Many years later he had the opportunity of performing the sealing for his youngest child, a boy, and as he looked around the room he saw all his children present with their spouses, he realized that this was the greatest dream to have. All of us were there, except for Charlie, who was on his mission. Dad said that this was he and mother's dream as well. A sweeter spirit I have never felt in all my life.
We had a very nice visit with Grandma and Dad on Saturday. The children enjoyed showing off their accomplishments. Chad just finished his Art Merit Badge and will be awarded the Star Rank in Scouting at his next Court of Honor on February 17th. He also won toastmasters in his classroom when he gave a presentation on art and animation. Rachel has been competing in multi regional Soccer games since her team was the All Valley winner in December. She is an avid reader in the Book It program sponsored by Pizza Hut, and is enjoying the Babysitters' Club series. Eric has been enjoying his after school art classes and is looking forward to being baptized next month on his birthday, March 26th. We'll have a family baptism at the stake center on Camp Plenty Road at 3:00pm, followed by dinner and joint Grandpa Brown/Eric birthday celebrations. Ryan, who was just getting over the flu (miraculously cured with M&M's and Root Beer), was Grandpa's special "buddy" the whole visit. Ashley flirted a little with both Grandpa and Grandma Great until falling asleep on the floor beside Kent and the TV (watching the broadcast of BYU's disastrous game with UAB). She came down with a fever during the night like Ryan, and was "cured" in similar fashion. Love y'all.
1988, Thursday, February 25
Shooting Ashley
Today I took Ashley in for her two-year-old check up with Dr. Adrienne Altman, pediatrician. As we sat in the waiting room I heard the office staff discussing large families. One was telling about a woman she used to babysit for who had twelve children. She thought that this woman was crazy, and the most children that she wanted was two. As we were called in to the examination room I poked my head in the window and said, "I have five children and I wouldn't trade any of them in!" And I meant it.
Ashley sat on my lap and played contentedly with a preschool puzzle of a doggy, kitty cat and rabbit ("babbit"), three of her favorite animals while we waited for the nurse to come in. When she did, we took off her clothes and walked her down the hallway to the scales. But as soon as it came time to stand up on them by herself, she began to scream and cling to me, so the nurse had me stand on the scales with her, and then without to subtract my weight from the total. Ashley's cheeks got all flushed as she cried and tried to get up the scales with me. We tried sitting her on the regular baby scales to double check her weight, but she held her arms out to me and sobbed quite pathetically. She also contorted and would hardly lie down for her height measurement. She weighs 22lbs 10 ounces, and is 34 1/4 inches tall.
She sat on my lap and played with the puzzle during the doctor's visit, was quite interested in the stethoscope and ear/viewing instrument. She examined the latter quite intently after the doctor left it behind. She was pretty as a little angel perched securely on my lap with her blond curls framing her pink cheeks, white spotted scar on her forehead (from the infected mosquito bite last fall), her slender perfect body, and slightly knock(tm)kneed legs. When the nurse came back to give her a TB tine she just looked curiously at it, but began to wail after her HIV flu shot and finger poke for anemia. She wanted the band aids off right away after the nurse left. I think that the alcohol on the cotton balls which the nurse swabbed against her needle pokes stung Ashley's sensitive skin.
1988 Friday, the 26th
After Blazer scouts, Ashley went out to play tetherball in the back yard with Rachel and Elisha Challgren. She was wearing her purple corduroy pants, and mint green sweatshirt with purple and yellow designs on it. Cocked sideways on her head was Rachel's yellow baseball cap from Dr. Dean the dentist. She was smiling with pure delight and I so wished that I had a picture of that adorable "little babushka" or "pipsqueak" as we sometimes call her. I also call her my little "Maybelle, sleigh-bell" when she is in a bright cheery mood. She is a cutie pie.
1988 March 2,
Last weekend was a low point for me. I was feeling down because I had a blood test at my dad's office, just one week from giving blood at the Red Cross office, and so was slightly anemic. I was recovering from an ulcer attack and a high blood pressure scare the weekend before, and was feeling numb emotionally. I looked forward to seeing Chad perform as narrator for Patty Hatton's cub den (where he serves as Den Chief), but unfortunately we misunderstood when it was going to be presented and so he got there too late to do it. I felt awful, like a failure as a mother. Seeing my children do well has become my one compensation since failing financially these past few months. Sunday night I cried in the shower. I thought, we pay our tithing, why has this gone on so long (no escrows closing and constant borrowing on our credit cards to the limit)? I confess to praying lately as though the heavens were made of lead and my prayers were bouncing off. But on my knees that night, I humbled myself as I thought of many righteous people who have suffered more than us, and for the blessings that have come to us during this time: the chance for Kent and I to spend time together and develop a sweeter working relationship, the personal histories we've compiled on the children and our parents, the compassion we've felt for others who are suffering similar financial despair, and the redefined monetary goals we've set in the future.
Monday morning the 29th about ten o'clock I received a call from the realtor Deanne Tibbets that the escrow on our big rectangular lot in Val Verde would finally close that afternoon. I drove over to pick up the check for $16,335.30 in between helping Chad at the library find information for his Winter Olympics report on Free Style Skiing. It not only seemed almost anti climatic to have our financial woes finally resolved, but the check seemed so puny as I contemplated how fast it would go. When we left the library it was after 6:00pm, Kent was not home from his parents yet, and we needed to eat soon since Rachel and I were going to a Mother/Daughter night at Rosedale. So Chad, Ashley and I drove through the McDonald's Drive Thru Window on the way home and got 2 McDLT's, one 9 piece chicken McNuggets, 3 hamburgers, and 3 large fries. Even with our new found wealth I could not splurge too much after such dire straights not so previously, so I could not justify buying soft drinks or any Duck Tales' "Happy Meals".
Tuesday I was in charge of the Relief Society Birthday Dinner. For center pieces, I got blue/white/yellow helium balloons, tied through a yellow birthday hat onto a jam jar underneath. I got yellow napkins and used inexpensive pastel blue paper plates. It was festive, attractive, yet simple. We served French bread, lasagna, Jell-O-salad, and ice cream cake roll for dessert. By selling the center pieces (sans jam jars) for $1.00 each and buying back unused food, we were able to keep within the budget of S$75.00. Robin Conkling, Georgene Hamill, Patty Biddle, Shirley Rich, Marjorie Rodella, Eileen Summerhays and DeAnn Ferrari, served on the committee with me.
That night I got a lovely surprise when Robin Conkling chose me to be the sister of the month and gave a spotlight on me. She didn't give my name until the end, but I am sure that my red face and embarrassment gave me away. I had wondered why she and her husband Chris were being so chummy with Kent earlier in the day by phone. Then I found out: Kent supplied all of the information. She said:
The reason I chose this sister is because she and her family sat behind my parents when they came to here me talk in Sacrament meeting and they found out that they knew her parents. In fact both families had lived in the same ward when our parents were first married. We probably played together in the nursery. My dad was their family milkman and their home teacher for many years in El Monte. Her dad is my family's doctor and he delivered some of my nieces and nephews. My dad told me after that meeting that I should really get to know this sister because she would be someone worth knowing.
This sister delivered all of her children in the same hospital room and bed that she was delivered in and had the same doctor, who coincidentally is her father. She is one of six children. Her husband said that an early memory that he knew of was when she and her sister were arguing over a metal object and her sister got hurt. She felt very bad about it for many years, and this shows that she is a very sensitive person.
1988 On Tuesday March 29th
Trip
We took the children for a drive up San Francisquito Canyon to South Portals Campground. There the children explored the campgrounds and Kent videotaped them. They found a rope swing from one of the oak trees that swung out over a ravine or wash. Kent was videotaping Eric swinging on the rope when suddenly Eric let go of the rope and dropped fifteen feet to the ground. It was a very frightening moment wondering if he was all right. Kent ran down the embankment, carried him to the top, and lay him on the ground on a blanket next to me. Fortunately, he only had a few scrapes, scratches, and bruises. Most of this is immortalized on videotape. A ten year old boy named Jarrett came with us. He is a friend of Eric's, but I think he developed a crush on Rachel. He spent most of his time playing with her. Ryan slid up and down the dirt slopes on his bottom and was covered with a layer of dirt.
1988 On Friday April 1
Elisha
Elisha Chalgren came with us to drive out 138 highway from Interstate 5 to the 14 Freeway. We were going to Aunt Judy's for dinner and wanted to look at the wild flowers on the way. The fields were bright orange with California poppies. Ashley got very excited whenever we passed some cows, and she would cry out "Cows...TWO cows!" Anything more than one is two for her. Kent pulled off the road at one patch and we ate a snack, played tag, and picked all the different types of flowers in bloom. When we got to Judy's we had a nice visit and dinner.
Today I took Ashley in for her two-year-old check up with Dr. Adrienne Altman, pediatrician. As we sat in the waiting room I heard the office staff discussing large families. One was telling about a woman she used to babysit for who had twelve children. She thought that this woman was crazy, and the most children that she wanted was two. As we were called in to the examination room I poked my head in the window and said, "I have five children and I wouldn't trade any of them in!" And I meant it.
Ashley sat on my lap and played contentedly with a preschool puzzle of a doggy, kitty cat and rabbit ("babbit"), three of her favorite animals while we waited for the nurse to come in. When she did, we took off her clothes and walked her down the hallway to the scales. But as soon as it came time to stand up on them by herself, she began to scream and cling to me, so the nurse had me stand on the scales with her, and then without to subtract my weight from the total. Ashley's cheeks got all flushed as she cried and tried to get up the scales with me. We tried sitting her on the regular baby scales to double check her weight, but she held her arms out to me and sobbed quite pathetically. She also contorted and would hardly lie down for her height measurement. She weighs 22lbs 10 ounces, and is 34 1/4 inches tall.
She sat on my lap and played with the puzzle during the doctor's visit, was quite interested in the stethoscope and ear/viewing instrument. She examined the latter quite intently after the doctor left it behind. She was pretty as a little angel perched securely on my lap with her blond curls framing her pink cheeks, white spotted scar on her forehead (from the infected mosquito bite last fall), her slender perfect body, and slightly knock(tm)kneed legs. When the nurse came back to give her a TB tine she just looked curiously at it, but began to wail after her HIV flu shot and finger poke for anemia. She wanted the band aids off right away after the nurse left. I think that the alcohol on the cotton balls which the nurse swabbed against her needle pokes stung Ashley's sensitive skin.
1988 Friday, the 26th
After Blazer scouts, Ashley went out to play tetherball in the back yard with Rachel and Elisha Challgren. She was wearing her purple corduroy pants, and mint green sweatshirt with purple and yellow designs on it. Cocked sideways on her head was Rachel's yellow baseball cap from Dr. Dean the dentist. She was smiling with pure delight and I so wished that I had a picture of that adorable "little babushka" or "pipsqueak" as we sometimes call her. I also call her my little "Maybelle, sleigh-bell" when she is in a bright cheery mood. She is a cutie pie.
1988 March 2,
Last weekend was a low point for me. I was feeling down because I had a blood test at my dad's office, just one week from giving blood at the Red Cross office, and so was slightly anemic. I was recovering from an ulcer attack and a high blood pressure scare the weekend before, and was feeling numb emotionally. I looked forward to seeing Chad perform as narrator for Patty Hatton's cub den (where he serves as Den Chief), but unfortunately we misunderstood when it was going to be presented and so he got there too late to do it. I felt awful, like a failure as a mother. Seeing my children do well has become my one compensation since failing financially these past few months. Sunday night I cried in the shower. I thought, we pay our tithing, why has this gone on so long (no escrows closing and constant borrowing on our credit cards to the limit)? I confess to praying lately as though the heavens were made of lead and my prayers were bouncing off. But on my knees that night, I humbled myself as I thought of many righteous people who have suffered more than us, and for the blessings that have come to us during this time: the chance for Kent and I to spend time together and develop a sweeter working relationship, the personal histories we've compiled on the children and our parents, the compassion we've felt for others who are suffering similar financial despair, and the redefined monetary goals we've set in the future.
Monday morning the 29th about ten o'clock I received a call from the realtor Deanne Tibbets that the escrow on our big rectangular lot in Val Verde would finally close that afternoon. I drove over to pick up the check for $16,335.30 in between helping Chad at the library find information for his Winter Olympics report on Free Style Skiing. It not only seemed almost anti climatic to have our financial woes finally resolved, but the check seemed so puny as I contemplated how fast it would go. When we left the library it was after 6:00pm, Kent was not home from his parents yet, and we needed to eat soon since Rachel and I were going to a Mother/Daughter night at Rosedale. So Chad, Ashley and I drove through the McDonald's Drive Thru Window on the way home and got 2 McDLT's, one 9 piece chicken McNuggets, 3 hamburgers, and 3 large fries. Even with our new found wealth I could not splurge too much after such dire straights not so previously, so I could not justify buying soft drinks or any Duck Tales' "Happy Meals".
Tuesday I was in charge of the Relief Society Birthday Dinner. For center pieces, I got blue/white/yellow helium balloons, tied through a yellow birthday hat onto a jam jar underneath. I got yellow napkins and used inexpensive pastel blue paper plates. It was festive, attractive, yet simple. We served French bread, lasagna, Jell-O-salad, and ice cream cake roll for dessert. By selling the center pieces (sans jam jars) for $1.00 each and buying back unused food, we were able to keep within the budget of S$75.00. Robin Conkling, Georgene Hamill, Patty Biddle, Shirley Rich, Marjorie Rodella, Eileen Summerhays and DeAnn Ferrari, served on the committee with me.
That night I got a lovely surprise when Robin Conkling chose me to be the sister of the month and gave a spotlight on me. She didn't give my name until the end, but I am sure that my red face and embarrassment gave me away. I had wondered why she and her husband Chris were being so chummy with Kent earlier in the day by phone. Then I found out: Kent supplied all of the information. She said:
The reason I chose this sister is because she and her family sat behind my parents when they came to here me talk in Sacrament meeting and they found out that they knew her parents. In fact both families had lived in the same ward when our parents were first married. We probably played together in the nursery. My dad was their family milkman and their home teacher for many years in El Monte. Her dad is my family's doctor and he delivered some of my nieces and nephews. My dad told me after that meeting that I should really get to know this sister because she would be someone worth knowing.
This sister delivered all of her children in the same hospital room and bed that she was delivered in and had the same doctor, who coincidentally is her father. She is one of six children. Her husband said that an early memory that he knew of was when she and her sister were arguing over a metal object and her sister got hurt. She felt very bad about it for many years, and this shows that she is a very sensitive person.
1988 On Tuesday March 29th
Trip
We took the children for a drive up San Francisquito Canyon to South Portals Campground. There the children explored the campgrounds and Kent videotaped them. They found a rope swing from one of the oak trees that swung out over a ravine or wash. Kent was videotaping Eric swinging on the rope when suddenly Eric let go of the rope and dropped fifteen feet to the ground. It was a very frightening moment wondering if he was all right. Kent ran down the embankment, carried him to the top, and lay him on the ground on a blanket next to me. Fortunately, he only had a few scrapes, scratches, and bruises. Most of this is immortalized on videotape. A ten year old boy named Jarrett came with us. He is a friend of Eric's, but I think he developed a crush on Rachel. He spent most of his time playing with her. Ryan slid up and down the dirt slopes on his bottom and was covered with a layer of dirt.
1988 On Friday April 1
Elisha
Elisha Chalgren came with us to drive out 138 highway from Interstate 5 to the 14 Freeway. We were going to Aunt Judy's for dinner and wanted to look at the wild flowers on the way. The fields were bright orange with California poppies. Ashley got very excited whenever we passed some cows, and she would cry out "Cows...TWO cows!" Anything more than one is two for her. Kent pulled off the road at one patch and we ate a snack, played tag, and picked all the different types of flowers in bloom. When we got to Judy's we had a nice visit and dinner.
1988
Dear Chad,
We are very proud of you on your twelfth birthday. You are a very wholesome, fine young man. You are smart, kind, good looking, a good example to your peer group, and have a lot together. We are especially proud of you for your worthiness to be ordained to the priesthood. That is the greatest attribute of all, and it will carry you through your life to the top.
The age of twelve is a milestone in your life. In the Jewish religion they give the boys a "Bar Mitzvah" when they turn twelve, to mark their entrance into manhood. The ordination to the priesthood is your entrance into manhood. As you honor it, it will prepare you to follow in the footsteps of the Greatest Man of all, our Heavenly Father.
We love you very, very much, and couldn't ask for a finer oldest son. Dad and Mom
This is a coupon for a free frozen yogurt sundae, redeemable any time.
1988 Last Sunday May 1
Chad Ordained
Brother Dave Riffo suggested to us that we have Chad's ordination the following Sunday at home in a family meeting rather than at church. The Deacon's quorum room is so small, and it is over with so quickly. At your home you can make your son the star of the program. It is more intimate and spiritual. He told about another family in the ward who did this and said he was going to recommend this to everyone from now on.
I called Bishop Parkinson to get approval but he was out of town until Friday. Both of his counselors, Brother Frank Balena and Brother Kevin Large were planning to spend Sunday afternoon with their mothers since it was Mother's Day. I wasn't sure what to do, but I prayed that Chad's ordination would be pleasing to the Lord, and that we could plan a very spiritual and memorable event in his life. I called the Bishop Friday evening after he returned to see if Sunday afternoon at three o'clock was okay and if he would be able to come also. He said that he would.
I wasn't sure about everyone's schedule since they were all planning to come in the morning to go to church with us, but when I called them all on Saturday, most of them said Sunday afternoon was better, then they could attend their own meetings in the morning or before coming here. Grandpa Brown, David Brown, Grandma Great Breiten, Grandpa and Grandma Gardiner, Aunt Audrey, and Uncle Mark and Karen Gardiner planned to attend.
Meanwhile Chad, Kent, Chris Harrison and another boy in the ward were up at Henninger Flats camping out so Chad to pass off his Environmental Merit Badge. I was really sweating this one out for him it's the toughest required Eagle Merit Badge. He had spent 8 hours over the last month studying the ecology at the Placerita Nature Center. On Sunday May 1, we went over the first part of the book together and logged in his observations. Then on Monday I took he and Chris and all the kids back to the Nature Center to make a map of the area to help put all of his notes of the plant and animal life, climate, topography, and geology into context. Also to help me understand the area so I could help him. I made a map too, really struggled with all the kids, and prayed for help. On Tuesday I helped him type up his 500 word report. On Wednesday we went over the last requirements in the book. On Thursday after Mother's Day and birthday shopping he packed, added to his map, and we reviewed the requirement questions again. I also helped Chris Harrison with his report
I gave the grandmas and Audrey their corsages and cards after they came, and kissed them. Chad's ordination seemed appropriate on Mother's Day, with all of getting together, and acknowledging our dependency on both the priesthood and motherhood.
I wanted to tape record the meeting. Kent set it up, showed me how to start it, and then I forgot to turn it on. Kent had been standing right by it and I assumed he had turned it on. I kept thinking during the meeting that I hoped the mike was picking everything up and that the dumb dog next door would shut up. I even considered shutting the window in the middle of Chad's ordination to muffle the barking on the tape, which wasn't even going. I was sitting clear across the room with everyone in between me and the Mike, so it was difficult to go check on the tape recorder anyway.
Kent conducted. He welcomed everyone, announced the opening song as "Come Follow Me". I quickly excused myself, grabbed a song book, and led everyone in the first verse. Uncle David Brown gave the opening prayer.
The Bishop welcomed Chad as the newest Aaronic Priesthood holder into the ward, and said that he would have the quorum sustain him next Sunday in church. Kent asked me if I wanted to say a few words as his mother and I said that I was very happy; this was a very nice Mother's Day for me. I felt the sweet peace of the Spirit in our home and hearts. We sang "Shall the Youth of Zion Falter" for the closing song, and the closing prayer and blessing on the food was given by Uncle Mark Gardiner.
I bought some first watermelon of the season and served it for dinner last week. As soon as she saw it her eyes got big and she pointed and exclaimed excitedly: "I want that!" She usually is so uninterested in dinner, but that day she got right up to the table and ate about three pieces. She must remember liking it so much last summer. She saw me dressing yesterday, pointed at my breasts and wanted a drink of milk. She's nearly 27 months and remembers nursing! I weaned her at 16 months, almost a year ago.
Today after church she went "potty" for the first time in her little potty next to ours. She saw me go, then wanted to try herself. I clapped, called her a big girl, and gave her a piece of "bum" (gum), which is a sacred reward around here.
On a typical day she wakes up shortly after the noisy boys are up and wants to be held (quite insistently) for about the next ten minutes. She commandeers my lap all during scripture reading, and likes to say "prayers" afterwards. The older children are quite jealous to be the one to help her and have her mimic their words. Then she wants to watch "Da' Duck" on TV. We always tell her no, not until after Breakfast and the others are off to school, because even though they have all seen the taped Disney cartoons hundreds of times, they will watch them and not get ready. She usually picks at a bit of cereal and milk. Life and Wheat Chex have fallen in and out of favor with her the last few weeks. Then she wants to snack on crackers and cookies the rest of the morning.
As the older children leave for school, she calls after them, "Bye Chachel" (or Chad or Eric), I luv you!" to each one individually, even running up to the front door and calling after them. They love to hear her say goodbye to them, and even if one of them has had a bad morning, her attention and manifestation of love will soften them and bring smiles and returning expressions of love.
After they leave I turn on Sesame Street. She likes Ernie and Bert and Big Bird. She watches that while we get dressed and clean up. She LOVES to go in the car, and is never so heartbroken as when she doesn't get to go somewhere with Daddy or I. It doesn't even matter where, so long as she can get out and see and do stuff. She likes to bring along a lunch pail like Ryan when I take him to Preschool on Tuesday and Thursday mornings at the park. Lately she hasn't seemed to mind being babysat by other women in the ward (like Sandy Burks, Marjorie Rodella, Laurine Mefford) so long as her lunch pail is in tow. And she is very proud of "her teacher" Sister Davis in the nursery at church. The Davis family usually sits behind us in church on Sunday, and she waves at Pam and smiles.
During the day she follows Ryan around and mimics everything he does and says, whether it's both of them sitting in an apple box or milk crate, or digging in the back yard. Sometimes when I am talking to someone and she is right by me or in my lap, she will repeat the sounds of my words like a faint echo, all the time smiling coyly.
She likes to say "Stop it" and thrust out her chin or lower her head and pout when she's being teased. She runs away from me when its time to dress or change her and we play a little game of it. I sit and pretend that I don't care, not even looking at her while she tries to sneak past me very slowly. Then when she is within reach I grab her and she giggles with delight and tries to wriggle away. Then we play "This little piggy went to grandma's house" or "where's your shoulders?" to distract her rebellion. Lately she's been wanting to dress herself, especially putting on her shoes, and a dress or shirt, and I've been hearing "Ashley do it!" with the lip and eyebrows down and a little stamp of the foot. One morning she got one arm through the sleeve of a striped top, and the other arm and her head through the neck opening. She walked around the house half the morning that way, quite proud of herself.
Her favorite place to go is still Lucky's. She likes to ride the $.25 boat, car, or Donald Duck (they switch them around every couple of months) and get a free cookie from the bakery. And she likes the toys and book aisle across from the cereal. She's recognized a few toys from the Doctor's office and has wanted to get them. One time I bought her a "basket" ball. (She calls all balls basketballs.) She chose an orange yellow one. The few times that I have taken her to First Care she has chosen an orange sucker. Orange must be a favorite color of hers. Maybe it stems from the times last summer when I always gave her the orange popsicles because Ryan coveted the red ones.
Saturday when she came with me to K Mart, she spied a pink "donut" inner tube on sale and immediately wanted it. She'd seen some like it at the pool and had borrowed one from Allison Turney. I confess I love to please her and I got it for her. She carried it all around the house with her until we went to the pool in the afternoon. She'd say "that's Ashley's!" and stamp her foot whenever anyone else wanted to see it. At the pool she loaned it out for short times to Rachel and Ryan (after coaching from me) then reluctantly let me swish her around the big pool in it. At first, her feet wrapped around my leg and I had to pry her loose, but she loosened up and enjoyed it with time, especially after seeing Ryan swim around with it. She likes to walk around the little wading pool with it around her waist, holding on to it with her hands. Because it was a little windy, she began crouching down in the water in the middle of the pool with just her little head peering above it. When Kent comes home and wrestles and hugs her she says, "I wan' see mommy" and if I hold her, it's "yucky, daddy". But when Kent goes outside to the garage, she's right behind him.
Kent and Suzanne
Dear Chad,
We are very proud of you on your twelfth birthday. You are a very wholesome, fine young man. You are smart, kind, good looking, a good example to your peer group, and have a lot together. We are especially proud of you for your worthiness to be ordained to the priesthood. That is the greatest attribute of all, and it will carry you through your life to the top.
The age of twelve is a milestone in your life. In the Jewish religion they give the boys a "Bar Mitzvah" when they turn twelve, to mark their entrance into manhood. The ordination to the priesthood is your entrance into manhood. As you honor it, it will prepare you to follow in the footsteps of the Greatest Man of all, our Heavenly Father.
We love you very, very much, and couldn't ask for a finer oldest son. Dad and Mom
This is a coupon for a free frozen yogurt sundae, redeemable any time.
1988 Last Sunday May 1
Chad Ordained
Brother Dave Riffo suggested to us that we have Chad's ordination the following Sunday at home in a family meeting rather than at church. The Deacon's quorum room is so small, and it is over with so quickly. At your home you can make your son the star of the program. It is more intimate and spiritual. He told about another family in the ward who did this and said he was going to recommend this to everyone from now on.
I called Bishop Parkinson to get approval but he was out of town until Friday. Both of his counselors, Brother Frank Balena and Brother Kevin Large were planning to spend Sunday afternoon with their mothers since it was Mother's Day. I wasn't sure what to do, but I prayed that Chad's ordination would be pleasing to the Lord, and that we could plan a very spiritual and memorable event in his life. I called the Bishop Friday evening after he returned to see if Sunday afternoon at three o'clock was okay and if he would be able to come also. He said that he would.
I wasn't sure about everyone's schedule since they were all planning to come in the morning to go to church with us, but when I called them all on Saturday, most of them said Sunday afternoon was better, then they could attend their own meetings in the morning or before coming here. Grandpa Brown, David Brown, Grandma Great Breiten, Grandpa and Grandma Gardiner, Aunt Audrey, and Uncle Mark and Karen Gardiner planned to attend.
Meanwhile Chad, Kent, Chris Harrison and another boy in the ward were up at Henninger Flats camping out so Chad to pass off his Environmental Merit Badge. I was really sweating this one out for him it's the toughest required Eagle Merit Badge. He had spent 8 hours over the last month studying the ecology at the Placerita Nature Center. On Sunday May 1, we went over the first part of the book together and logged in his observations. Then on Monday I took he and Chris and all the kids back to the Nature Center to make a map of the area to help put all of his notes of the plant and animal life, climate, topography, and geology into context. Also to help me understand the area so I could help him. I made a map too, really struggled with all the kids, and prayed for help. On Tuesday I helped him type up his 500 word report. On Wednesday we went over the last requirements in the book. On Thursday after Mother's Day and birthday shopping he packed, added to his map, and we reviewed the requirement questions again. I also helped Chris Harrison with his report
I gave the grandmas and Audrey their corsages and cards after they came, and kissed them. Chad's ordination seemed appropriate on Mother's Day, with all of getting together, and acknowledging our dependency on both the priesthood and motherhood.
I wanted to tape record the meeting. Kent set it up, showed me how to start it, and then I forgot to turn it on. Kent had been standing right by it and I assumed he had turned it on. I kept thinking during the meeting that I hoped the mike was picking everything up and that the dumb dog next door would shut up. I even considered shutting the window in the middle of Chad's ordination to muffle the barking on the tape, which wasn't even going. I was sitting clear across the room with everyone in between me and the Mike, so it was difficult to go check on the tape recorder anyway.
Kent conducted. He welcomed everyone, announced the opening song as "Come Follow Me". I quickly excused myself, grabbed a song book, and led everyone in the first verse. Uncle David Brown gave the opening prayer.
The Bishop welcomed Chad as the newest Aaronic Priesthood holder into the ward, and said that he would have the quorum sustain him next Sunday in church. Kent asked me if I wanted to say a few words as his mother and I said that I was very happy; this was a very nice Mother's Day for me. I felt the sweet peace of the Spirit in our home and hearts. We sang "Shall the Youth of Zion Falter" for the closing song, and the closing prayer and blessing on the food was given by Uncle Mark Gardiner.
I bought some first watermelon of the season and served it for dinner last week. As soon as she saw it her eyes got big and she pointed and exclaimed excitedly: "I want that!" She usually is so uninterested in dinner, but that day she got right up to the table and ate about three pieces. She must remember liking it so much last summer. She saw me dressing yesterday, pointed at my breasts and wanted a drink of milk. She's nearly 27 months and remembers nursing! I weaned her at 16 months, almost a year ago.
Today after church she went "potty" for the first time in her little potty next to ours. She saw me go, then wanted to try herself. I clapped, called her a big girl, and gave her a piece of "bum" (gum), which is a sacred reward around here.
On a typical day she wakes up shortly after the noisy boys are up and wants to be held (quite insistently) for about the next ten minutes. She commandeers my lap all during scripture reading, and likes to say "prayers" afterwards. The older children are quite jealous to be the one to help her and have her mimic their words. Then she wants to watch "Da' Duck" on TV. We always tell her no, not until after Breakfast and the others are off to school, because even though they have all seen the taped Disney cartoons hundreds of times, they will watch them and not get ready. She usually picks at a bit of cereal and milk. Life and Wheat Chex have fallen in and out of favor with her the last few weeks. Then she wants to snack on crackers and cookies the rest of the morning.
As the older children leave for school, she calls after them, "Bye Chachel" (or Chad or Eric), I luv you!" to each one individually, even running up to the front door and calling after them. They love to hear her say goodbye to them, and even if one of them has had a bad morning, her attention and manifestation of love will soften them and bring smiles and returning expressions of love.
After they leave I turn on Sesame Street. She likes Ernie and Bert and Big Bird. She watches that while we get dressed and clean up. She LOVES to go in the car, and is never so heartbroken as when she doesn't get to go somewhere with Daddy or I. It doesn't even matter where, so long as she can get out and see and do stuff. She likes to bring along a lunch pail like Ryan when I take him to Preschool on Tuesday and Thursday mornings at the park. Lately she hasn't seemed to mind being babysat by other women in the ward (like Sandy Burks, Marjorie Rodella, Laurine Mefford) so long as her lunch pail is in tow. And she is very proud of "her teacher" Sister Davis in the nursery at church. The Davis family usually sits behind us in church on Sunday, and she waves at Pam and smiles.
During the day she follows Ryan around and mimics everything he does and says, whether it's both of them sitting in an apple box or milk crate, or digging in the back yard. Sometimes when I am talking to someone and she is right by me or in my lap, she will repeat the sounds of my words like a faint echo, all the time smiling coyly.
She likes to say "Stop it" and thrust out her chin or lower her head and pout when she's being teased. She runs away from me when its time to dress or change her and we play a little game of it. I sit and pretend that I don't care, not even looking at her while she tries to sneak past me very slowly. Then when she is within reach I grab her and she giggles with delight and tries to wriggle away. Then we play "This little piggy went to grandma's house" or "where's your shoulders?" to distract her rebellion. Lately she's been wanting to dress herself, especially putting on her shoes, and a dress or shirt, and I've been hearing "Ashley do it!" with the lip and eyebrows down and a little stamp of the foot. One morning she got one arm through the sleeve of a striped top, and the other arm and her head through the neck opening. She walked around the house half the morning that way, quite proud of herself.
Her favorite place to go is still Lucky's. She likes to ride the $.25 boat, car, or Donald Duck (they switch them around every couple of months) and get a free cookie from the bakery. And she likes the toys and book aisle across from the cereal. She's recognized a few toys from the Doctor's office and has wanted to get them. One time I bought her a "basket" ball. (She calls all balls basketballs.) She chose an orange yellow one. The few times that I have taken her to First Care she has chosen an orange sucker. Orange must be a favorite color of hers. Maybe it stems from the times last summer when I always gave her the orange popsicles because Ryan coveted the red ones.
Saturday when she came with me to K Mart, she spied a pink "donut" inner tube on sale and immediately wanted it. She'd seen some like it at the pool and had borrowed one from Allison Turney. I confess I love to please her and I got it for her. She carried it all around the house with her until we went to the pool in the afternoon. She'd say "that's Ashley's!" and stamp her foot whenever anyone else wanted to see it. At the pool she loaned it out for short times to Rachel and Ryan (after coaching from me) then reluctantly let me swish her around the big pool in it. At first, her feet wrapped around my leg and I had to pry her loose, but she loosened up and enjoyed it with time, especially after seeing Ryan swim around with it. She likes to walk around the little wading pool with it around her waist, holding on to it with her hands. Because it was a little windy, she began crouching down in the water in the middle of the pool with just her little head peering above it. When Kent comes home and wrestles and hugs her she says, "I wan' see mommy" and if I hold her, it's "yucky, daddy". But when Kent goes outside to the garage, she's right behind him.
Kent and Suzanne
1988 February
Dear Family,
Well, I
hit a BIG 33 this week. I thought that I'd be more depressed about it than I
actually was. I guess I'm too busy with the family, Primary, Scouts, and PTA
(and enjoying myself) to stew too much about it. Life does get better with the
passage of time, if only we could figure out some way to get wiser without
actually aging any. But maybe that's something we get in the Millennial Post
Graduate Course.
Well, we
still have no money but not enough sense to believe we're very poor
(although two escrows are scheduled to close this Wednesday--Finally). But in
our free time, we've been compiling all our journal entries about the children
into their personal histories on the computer. Rachel's history alone has over
45 pages--more than I think I have on my whole life to date. It has been very
fulfilling, renewing all our tender feelings for each other over the years from
each child's birth to the present. I recommend this to all of you. With
computers it is easy to compile and store information, and it has proven to be
one of the most worthwhile undertakings we've ever done.
I came
across my journal entry after Jim and Carol's temple wedding. Dad told a story
about Elder David B. Height who used to dream as a boy growing up in the farm
fields of Idaho of hitting the winning run in the World's Series and thinking
that was the greatest thing that could ever happen to him. Many years later he
had the opportunity of performing the sealing for his youngest child, a boy,
and as he looked around the room he saw all his children present with their
spouses, he realized that this was the greatest dream to have. All of us were
there, except for Charlie, who was on his mission. Dad said that this was he
and mother's dream as well. A sweeter spirit I have never felt in all my life.
We had a
very nice visit with Grandma and Dad on Saturday. The children enjoyed showing
off their accomplishments. Chad just finished his Art Merit Badge and will be
awarded the Star Rank in Scouting at his next Court of Honor on February 17th.
He also won toastmasters in his classroom when he gave a presentation on art
and animation. Rachel has been competing in multi-regional Soccer games since
her team was the All-Valley winner in December. She is an avid reader in the
Book It program sponsored by Pizza Hut, and is enjoying the Babysitters' Club
series. Eric has been enjoying his after school art classes and is looking
forward to being baptized next month on his birthday, March 26th. We'll have a
family baptism at the stake center on Camp Plenty Road at 3:00pm, followed by
dinner and joint Grandpa Brown/Eric birthday celebrations. Ryan, who was just
getting over the flu (miraculously cured with M&M's and Root Beer), was
Grandpa's special "buddy" the whole visit. Ashley flirted a little
with both Grandpa and Grandma Great until falling asleep on the floor beside
Kent and the TV (watching the broadcast of BYU's disastrous game with UAB). She
came down with a fever during the night like Ryan, and was 'cured in similar
fashion. Love y'all.
1988
Letter
Paul and Nancy,
Paul and Nancy,
We
thought that you might like to have your very own copy of the Book of Mormon -
so that you can study it over carefully and prayerfully and determine for
yourselves its validity. Its a very special book, with a remarkable promise in
it, - unlike any other book I know. This promise (you can read it on the next
page) was written by Moroni, the last prophet in ancient America to write in
the book. In essence this promise is that everyone who sincerely reads
this book, and honestly ponders its messages in their heart, and humbly asks
God whether it is really divinely inspired - can gain a witness from the Holy
Ghost that it is.
In other words, as you read meditate and pray you will feel a sweet, peaceful reassuring feeling in your heart, and occasionally even pricking, burning or bursting with joy feeling inside of you. These sometimes will be similar to the feelings you had when you decided to marry (and knew you were right for each other). when you first held Laura in your arms after she was born and what you felt at the Visitor's Center that Friday night we took you (and what you'll feel again when you go back there.) It is the Spirit of the Lord bearing testimony to you. And how you respond to this witness will be a measure of your faith in God. It is the same power by which you know Jesus Christ and the Bible are true.
This is important for you to know - because if the Book of Mormon is the word of God, then Joseph Smith was a prophet of God and the Church of Jesus Christ was restored through him in these latter days, and there is a successor to Joseph Smith a prophet of God today - who holds all the keys, power and authority to direct the Lord's Kingdom on earth, including the power to seal your family. Paul and Nancy, for eternity. This important not only for you but for your children as well.
Even though Kent and I know that it is true we want you to find out for yourselves. We invite you to test it. We've always been grateful that we have.
Love you always.
Kent and Suzanne Gardiner
Chad,
Rachel, Eric
P.S. Especially read Christ's visit to America pages 421 - 435
1988
What every woman fears
In late March I thought I discovered what every woman fears a breast lump in my left breast on the inside. I kept checking it over and over again to be sure and feeling a little surface panic. Then it seemed to go away, but I rediscovered it in April. I finally talked to Kent about it and we decided that I better get to a doctor as soon as possible, and while I was concerned about it, in my heart I found it impossible to believe that it was very serious. I called the Prunet Net office and got the name of a Dr. Rodriguez here in Valencia who is an OB GYN. I'd heard his name before from some other LDS women in Canyon Country who had him deliver their babies. I went to him and told him that my husband and I were planning to have another baby but that this lump was nothing first. He said that it was probably okay, but that it would be good to have a baseline mammogram to be sure and for future reference. He said that many young women have these small fibro somas which are nothing, and that I was not a high risk patient for cancer. I had my mammogram done at Valencia Radiology and talked to the girl who took the X rays about my film. She showed the pictures to me and said that the lump had clearly defined edges and was not attached to any bone which were good signs. The cancerous lumps usually have webby edges and/or were attached to bone. She said that they would send the results to the doctor. I felt a great sense of relief.
She (Ashley) is very articulate in her speech, and her expressions are so cute. For some reason she calls a sandwich a "faice". When she wants you to come, she puts her hands on her hips and says "Pum 'ere!" And about ten times a day she bothers you for a "bink of milk", which she want you to put on the "patle" (table) for her. She also always wants to check my purse for a "piece of bum", and when she gets one she goes around showing everyone by opening her mouth wide. When she likes something she says "tastes goooood!" or "that's nice," or she claps her hands and says "I wuv it". When she doesn't want to do something she says "I juuuust did!", or "it's too hot", or "you do it!". If you want something from her, "it's all gone", and she'll shrug her shoulders. One time I teasingly called her my "Pookyhah", and she said "I not bukihah, I Ashley Maybelle!"
When she is excited, she opens her mouth and her eyes real big and raises her eyebrows. Rachel's strawberry shortcake doll (that Grandma Great made for her) has become her baby, which she carries around and hums to in bed sometimes. One day during her nap she scribbled on the doll's face with a pen, and was tearfully chagrin when I gently told her "no," and washed most of it off. She is very sensitive to criticism.
She has one little lock of hair that falls down to the middle of her back in a ringlet. Her daddy says he will be sorry if it is ever cut. Sometimes she pretends that she is hurt and fake cries, and then she smiles and says "Just kidding!" She likes to pretend that she and daddy are different animals. She'll say "I a doggie, you a kitty cat." And they'll act out the animals. She loves to run, especially in the evening near bedtime. She still follows Ryan around and mimics the sound of his phrases sometimes when he talks to others. She'll smile coyly, rattle something incomprehensible but sounding similar to something he just said, and then run off after him.
This week when we stayed with the Goodman’s and camped out she was sick to her stomach after eating some cheese flavored goldfish crackers. She slept on the floor in the same room with Rachel and Jessica. She adores Rachel and always wants to be with her or "go see" her. She loved playing outside and around the lakes and rivers we went to, but got very upset when she saw her hands were dirty. She always wanted to "wash hands". When we bought ice cream cones to eat on the way, she just wanted to hold them and put her tongue on it occasionally. The ice cream melted all over her and we had to finish them for her.
1988
In late March I thought I discovered what every woman fears a breast lump in my left breast on the inside. I kept checking it over and over again to be sure and feeling a little surface panic. Then it seemed to go away, but I rediscovered it in April. I finally talked to Kent about it and we decided that I better get to a doctor as soon as possible, and while I was concerned about it, in my heart I found it impossible to believe that it was very serious. I called the Prunet Net office and got the name of a Dr. Rodriguez here in Valencia who is an OB GYN. I'd heard his name before from some other LDS women in Canyon Country who had him deliver their babies. I went to him and told him that my husband and I were planning to have another baby but that this lump was nothing first. He said that it was probably okay, but that it would be good to have a baseline mammogram to be sure and for future reference. He said that many young women have these small fibro somas which are nothing, and that I was not a high risk patient for cancer. I had my mammogram done at Valencia Radiology and talked to the girl who took the X rays about my film. She showed the pictures to me and said that the lump had clearly defined edges and was not attached to any bone which were good signs. The cancerous lumps usually have webby edges and/or were attached to bone. She said that they would send the results to the doctor. I felt a great sense of relief.
She (Ashley) is very articulate in her speech, and her expressions are so cute. For some reason she calls a sandwich a "faice". When she wants you to come, she puts her hands on her hips and says "Pum 'ere!" And about ten times a day she bothers you for a "bink of milk", which she want you to put on the "patle" (table) for her. She also always wants to check my purse for a "piece of bum", and when she gets one she goes around showing everyone by opening her mouth wide. When she likes something she says "tastes goooood!" or "that's nice," or she claps her hands and says "I wuv it". When she doesn't want to do something she says "I juuuust did!", or "it's too hot", or "you do it!". If you want something from her, "it's all gone", and she'll shrug her shoulders. One time I teasingly called her my "Pookyhah", and she said "I not bukihah, I Ashley Maybelle!"
When she is excited, she opens her mouth and her eyes real big and raises her eyebrows. Rachel's strawberry shortcake doll (that Grandma Great made for her) has become her baby, which she carries around and hums to in bed sometimes. One day during her nap she scribbled on the doll's face with a pen, and was tearfully chagrin when I gently told her "no," and washed most of it off. She is very sensitive to criticism.
She has one little lock of hair that falls down to the middle of her back in a ringlet. Her daddy says he will be sorry if it is ever cut. Sometimes she pretends that she is hurt and fake cries, and then she smiles and says "Just kidding!" She likes to pretend that she and daddy are different animals. She'll say "I a doggie, you a kitty cat." And they'll act out the animals. She loves to run, especially in the evening near bedtime. She still follows Ryan around and mimics the sound of his phrases sometimes when he talks to others. She'll smile coyly, rattle something incomprehensible but sounding similar to something he just said, and then run off after him.
This week when we stayed with the Goodman’s and camped out she was sick to her stomach after eating some cheese flavored goldfish crackers. She slept on the floor in the same room with Rachel and Jessica. She adores Rachel and always wants to be with her or "go see" her. She loved playing outside and around the lakes and rivers we went to, but got very upset when she saw her hands were dirty. She always wanted to "wash hands". When we bought ice cream cones to eat on the way, she just wanted to hold them and put her tongue on it occasionally. The ice cream melted all over her and we had to finish them for her.
1988
Camping
When we were camping at the King's River, and waiting to take our turn water skiing, Chad taught Ashley to stick out her hand and say "Gimme five!" and then after you slapped her hand, clench her fist with her thumb up, move it back and forth, and say, "awright!" Everyone laughed she was so cute. Everyone loves Ashley's interpretation of Queen's famous song: "We will rock you". Ashley sings, "We will, we will, rocking chair". It is so cute that we don't want her to say it the right way.
Friday night when everyone was standing on a little platform fishing in a lake by the river, Ashley fell down in the space between the platform and bank of the lake. She was trapped there until I ran to rescue her. She sat on my lap and hugged me the rest of the time we stayed there.
Two summers ago I noticed some grading going on the West of the Freeway and a sign advertising Sunset Pointe. I called the number on the sign and found out that they were releasing the first phase of homes the next day. I went down and looked at the floor plans and put a deposit on a house. Kent and I talked about it over the next two weeks. We decided that even though it was a very good price ($175,000.00 for 2150 square feet) it had very poor access into it and we didn't care for the Mediterranean exterior design. Also we needed the cash since we had just bought the Val Verde lots. But I called my friends the Whites and the Garns who I knew were looking for a new larger home and told them about it. We backed out but they went for the first two homes released in the second phase even camping out for a week to guarantee their position.
1988
When we were camping at the King's River, and waiting to take our turn water skiing, Chad taught Ashley to stick out her hand and say "Gimme five!" and then after you slapped her hand, clench her fist with her thumb up, move it back and forth, and say, "awright!" Everyone laughed she was so cute. Everyone loves Ashley's interpretation of Queen's famous song: "We will rock you". Ashley sings, "We will, we will, rocking chair". It is so cute that we don't want her to say it the right way.
Friday night when everyone was standing on a little platform fishing in a lake by the river, Ashley fell down in the space between the platform and bank of the lake. She was trapped there until I ran to rescue her. She sat on my lap and hugged me the rest of the time we stayed there.
Two summers ago I noticed some grading going on the West of the Freeway and a sign advertising Sunset Pointe. I called the number on the sign and found out that they were releasing the first phase of homes the next day. I went down and looked at the floor plans and put a deposit on a house. Kent and I talked about it over the next two weeks. We decided that even though it was a very good price ($175,000.00 for 2150 square feet) it had very poor access into it and we didn't care for the Mediterranean exterior design. Also we needed the cash since we had just bought the Val Verde lots. But I called my friends the Whites and the Garns who I knew were looking for a new larger home and told them about it. We backed out but they went for the first two homes released in the second phase even camping out for a week to guarantee their position.
1988
Stevenson Ranch Off Ramp
I noticed some more grading just north of them in a better location with better freeway access and a construction trailer out with a sign. I said that is the place for me. I called the number on the sign and they told me that they were building for Dale Poe and gave me a number to call. After a few calls I ended up talking to a Bob Morrison, a sales rep for DP out in Agoura. He said that they would be setting up an 800 information number in the future to take interested calls for the area which would be called Stevenson Ranch, and to keep in touch. I did so for almost a year until last summer when they put the 800 information number into action. I called it all weekend until I finally got to talk to Sig Sigler, who was going to be the sales rep in charge of the new project. I asked him what number I was going to be on his interest list and he said about 40th, and I said that I had called so many times over the last 8 or 9 months that I was mad I wasn't #1. He was very charming and I talked to him many times over the next few months. We stopped by to see him in Agoura a few weeks after our first call on our way to the beach and brought him some homemade bread. We went through one of the models and peeked inside some of the others that were sold. Dale Poe was just finishing up a big project there in Agoura and was going to be building similar homes in his Stevenson Ranch project. Kent and I fell in love with the Tudor design, the hard wood floors, and large floor plan. We especially liked one floor plan which had a little guest room separate from the house in front.
I talked to Sig several times about our area and at his request sent him pricing information on all of the other new homes being built in our area, with a map and my own personal evaluation of them. (He was so impressed that he kept it and showed it to me a year later, he had it in his briefcase in the car.) They were supposed to have some model homes go up and be releasing sometime that Fall, and I called him from the airport on our way to England and begged him not to release them without me. I later talked to Barbara Sanford, the sales rep directly over the homes I wanted, and sent her a phone book for our area.
During this time and throughout the past year with all of our financial stress and difficulty, my dream of getting a larger home seemed more and more remote; however I never gave up hope and I filled out questionnaires from the company as if everything were going to resolve itself. As it got closer to the time that they were going to release the homes, as the interest in them grew by tens of thousands of prospective homebuyers, as they decided to release them by lottery (I've never won anything in my life!), and as our money woes drug on, I reluctantly began to relinquish all hope of ever getting in even after Lance closed in June. Kent and I went to see the models when they opened and we were still in love with them so much that it almost hurt. We filled out to lottery cards, one for each of us (a salesperson for some different models told us to do that), picking out a different model on each one. I turned in one just to a salesperson standing there, and the other one directly to Barbara, giving her a flyer from the YMCA open house we'd just attended also. The lottery for the homes was to be held July 20. I remember driving by the area on the 19th and silently praying "Oh, Heavenly Father, you know how much and how long I have wanted to live over there. But I've learned better than to counsel you regarding my life. If that is where you want us to live, then I trust that you will bless us. It is up to you." Wednesday evening when I got home from someplace (Frankie Behahn's for a perm?) Kent greeted me with the astounding news that he had received a call from Barbara we'd been chosen by the lottery (5th) for a new home, we were to go down on Saturday and choose a lot. I was in shock. I could hardly grasp that it had happened. We didn't even know if we could afford the nearly $300,000.00 that the home would cost, but we decided to go down Saturday and do it. We would just pretend like it was going to work and see if it did. If it was right, then we knew that somehow it would all work out.
1988 Saturday July 23,
Stevenson Ranch
Before celebrating Ryan's birthday, we went down to the models and sales office. We decided that we still liked the model with the guest house best, even though it was only a two car garage. Next we agonized over a lot; all the ones on the view side were taken, and our choices were between the busy end of the street with a bigger lot or the cull de sac end. We chose the quieter cull de sac end. We could see that the homes to be released in the second phase would be in the cull de sac and had bigger, premium lots. We would have liked one of them (I wanted a pool), but we decided we'd better not press our luck. We put our $3,000.00 deposit down, filled out a credit report, and decided to hope for the best. One advantage is that while that home price is secure, our own present home price is going up in value until we need to sell it. It is conceivable that we could make $100,000.00 in appreciation over the next year. We can hardly dare to dream that it is possible, but with the Lord's help, we'll try for it
When it is time for Ashley to go to bed, we'll "hum" for awhile first. She lies on my chest with her blanket over her while I hum Braham’s lullaby, I am a Child of God, and Teach Me to Walk in the Light. Then I hum "one last time" Braham’s lullaby. Then I put her on her pillow, tuck her blanket over her, and give her a "tickly" hug and kiss, and go out and shut the door. Lately she has been following this same exact ritual with the big white bear "Snowball" that Grandma Great gave to Rachel and she in turn to Ashley. She hums in a monotone, gently places the bear on the pillow, carefully lays the blanket across it, gives it a hug and kiss, then quietly goes out the door and announces, "ALL DONE".
She's been a little constipated lately, and complaining of a tummy ache. "Don't touch it" she said as I felt her tummy during the movie Bambi last Saturday for Ryan's birthday party. She was real fussy that day. I think the iron in the vitamins may be giving her problems.
1988 Suzanne July 25,
I noticed some more grading just north of them in a better location with better freeway access and a construction trailer out with a sign. I said that is the place for me. I called the number on the sign and they told me that they were building for Dale Poe and gave me a number to call. After a few calls I ended up talking to a Bob Morrison, a sales rep for DP out in Agoura. He said that they would be setting up an 800 information number in the future to take interested calls for the area which would be called Stevenson Ranch, and to keep in touch. I did so for almost a year until last summer when they put the 800 information number into action. I called it all weekend until I finally got to talk to Sig Sigler, who was going to be the sales rep in charge of the new project. I asked him what number I was going to be on his interest list and he said about 40th, and I said that I had called so many times over the last 8 or 9 months that I was mad I wasn't #1. He was very charming and I talked to him many times over the next few months. We stopped by to see him in Agoura a few weeks after our first call on our way to the beach and brought him some homemade bread. We went through one of the models and peeked inside some of the others that were sold. Dale Poe was just finishing up a big project there in Agoura and was going to be building similar homes in his Stevenson Ranch project. Kent and I fell in love with the Tudor design, the hard wood floors, and large floor plan. We especially liked one floor plan which had a little guest room separate from the house in front.
I talked to Sig several times about our area and at his request sent him pricing information on all of the other new homes being built in our area, with a map and my own personal evaluation of them. (He was so impressed that he kept it and showed it to me a year later, he had it in his briefcase in the car.) They were supposed to have some model homes go up and be releasing sometime that Fall, and I called him from the airport on our way to England and begged him not to release them without me. I later talked to Barbara Sanford, the sales rep directly over the homes I wanted, and sent her a phone book for our area.
During this time and throughout the past year with all of our financial stress and difficulty, my dream of getting a larger home seemed more and more remote; however I never gave up hope and I filled out questionnaires from the company as if everything were going to resolve itself. As it got closer to the time that they were going to release the homes, as the interest in them grew by tens of thousands of prospective homebuyers, as they decided to release them by lottery (I've never won anything in my life!), and as our money woes drug on, I reluctantly began to relinquish all hope of ever getting in even after Lance closed in June. Kent and I went to see the models when they opened and we were still in love with them so much that it almost hurt. We filled out to lottery cards, one for each of us (a salesperson for some different models told us to do that), picking out a different model on each one. I turned in one just to a salesperson standing there, and the other one directly to Barbara, giving her a flyer from the YMCA open house we'd just attended also. The lottery for the homes was to be held July 20. I remember driving by the area on the 19th and silently praying "Oh, Heavenly Father, you know how much and how long I have wanted to live over there. But I've learned better than to counsel you regarding my life. If that is where you want us to live, then I trust that you will bless us. It is up to you." Wednesday evening when I got home from someplace (Frankie Behahn's for a perm?) Kent greeted me with the astounding news that he had received a call from Barbara we'd been chosen by the lottery (5th) for a new home, we were to go down on Saturday and choose a lot. I was in shock. I could hardly grasp that it had happened. We didn't even know if we could afford the nearly $300,000.00 that the home would cost, but we decided to go down Saturday and do it. We would just pretend like it was going to work and see if it did. If it was right, then we knew that somehow it would all work out.
1988 Saturday July 23,
Stevenson Ranch
Before celebrating Ryan's birthday, we went down to the models and sales office. We decided that we still liked the model with the guest house best, even though it was only a two car garage. Next we agonized over a lot; all the ones on the view side were taken, and our choices were between the busy end of the street with a bigger lot or the cull de sac end. We chose the quieter cull de sac end. We could see that the homes to be released in the second phase would be in the cull de sac and had bigger, premium lots. We would have liked one of them (I wanted a pool), but we decided we'd better not press our luck. We put our $3,000.00 deposit down, filled out a credit report, and decided to hope for the best. One advantage is that while that home price is secure, our own present home price is going up in value until we need to sell it. It is conceivable that we could make $100,000.00 in appreciation over the next year. We can hardly dare to dream that it is possible, but with the Lord's help, we'll try for it
When it is time for Ashley to go to bed, we'll "hum" for awhile first. She lies on my chest with her blanket over her while I hum Braham’s lullaby, I am a Child of God, and Teach Me to Walk in the Light. Then I hum "one last time" Braham’s lullaby. Then I put her on her pillow, tuck her blanket over her, and give her a "tickly" hug and kiss, and go out and shut the door. Lately she has been following this same exact ritual with the big white bear "Snowball" that Grandma Great gave to Rachel and she in turn to Ashley. She hums in a monotone, gently places the bear on the pillow, carefully lays the blanket across it, gives it a hug and kiss, then quietly goes out the door and announces, "ALL DONE".
She's been a little constipated lately, and complaining of a tummy ache. "Don't touch it" she said as I felt her tummy during the movie Bambi last Saturday for Ryan's birthday party. She was real fussy that day. I think the iron in the vitamins may be giving her problems.
1988 Suzanne July 25,
Sacrament Meeting Speakers
Last Thursday Kevin Large called and wanted us to be substitute Sacrament Meeting Speakers this coming Sunday (7/24/88), with Chad as the Youth Speaker. Chad was reluctant, but I talked him into telling about his 3rd or 4th Great Grandpa Benjamin Brown and how he saw two of the three Nephite disciples, joined the church, went on many missions for the church, and was faithful to it his whole life. Chad said that he was grateful to Benjamin for joining the church, and for the Book of Mormon, which he knew was true.
I spoke right afterwards and shared the Preface to Benjamin Brown's "Testimonies for the Truth" which had the account of his conversion and had been published in 1853 in London, England. He said that he was writing this for his posterity and to add his testimony to many others concerning God's unchangeableness and goodness to true believers.
I said that we stand on the shoulders of countless ancestors, and that the Lord wants us to remember our great heritage that we have received. I said that the month of July was a great month with Independence Day and Pioneer Day, and that it gave us an opportunity to recall the sacrifices, values, struggles and blessings given us by our forebears. The Old Testament and Book of Mormon are full of tragic accounts of the consequences when the Lord's people forget, or are slow to remember the Lord's goodness to them. We could expect similar tragedy in our Nation's Future if we follow suit.
1988
Last Thursday Kevin Large called and wanted us to be substitute Sacrament Meeting Speakers this coming Sunday (7/24/88), with Chad as the Youth Speaker. Chad was reluctant, but I talked him into telling about his 3rd or 4th Great Grandpa Benjamin Brown and how he saw two of the three Nephite disciples, joined the church, went on many missions for the church, and was faithful to it his whole life. Chad said that he was grateful to Benjamin for joining the church, and for the Book of Mormon, which he knew was true.
I spoke right afterwards and shared the Preface to Benjamin Brown's "Testimonies for the Truth" which had the account of his conversion and had been published in 1853 in London, England. He said that he was writing this for his posterity and to add his testimony to many others concerning God's unchangeableness and goodness to true believers.
I said that we stand on the shoulders of countless ancestors, and that the Lord wants us to remember our great heritage that we have received. I said that the month of July was a great month with Independence Day and Pioneer Day, and that it gave us an opportunity to recall the sacrifices, values, struggles and blessings given us by our forebears. The Old Testament and Book of Mormon are full of tragic accounts of the consequences when the Lord's people forget, or are slow to remember the Lord's goodness to them. We could expect similar tragedy in our Nation's Future if we follow suit.
1988
Keep My Memory Green
I tried to tell as near as possible a story I heard on a record album once many years ago, (which I looked for desperately on Saturday and called everyone I knew to see if I could find it) called "Keep My Memory Green". It is the story of a young man who has had a bitter childhood, and disillusioned with life and the unhappiness he sees around him, believes that the world would be a happier place if people could forget the past. On Christmas Eve he gets this wish and sees the consequences of it. Without remembering the past, people no longer have the capacity to repent and have hope for a better future. There is no compassion for others in their suffering. People are selfish, and there is no goodness in the world. He remembers that great past event of the Savior's atoning sacrifice and the message of hope and Divine Love that he offers to the world, and he prays to have his wish undone. The next morning, Christmas, his housekeeper comes in and he realizes that everything is back to normal. He is grateful, and bows his head and prays, Oh, Lord, ever keep my memory green.
I said that the Lord wants us to keep our memories green both our collective memories of the past which we share with others, as well as our personal memories of the Lord's goodness to us. I told about a collective memory which my brothers and sisters and I were able to help preserve of my mother's history through videotapes and interviews. We recorded my parents struggles to make right decisions regarding prayer and tithing during their early married life, their gratitude to the Lord for his great blessings in spite of imminent death and separation, and their hopes for their children to be true to their family ties.
Then I shared an excerpt of my journal dated Dec 31, 1987, regarding my feelings about recording her history, and my testimony of the Lord's great blessings to my family and for the principle of tithing during our tremendous financial struggles. I closed by saying that the only ones who would survive the future would be those who had a strong commitment to their family ties who strove to be true and keep their memory "green" of their ancestral roots and their personal memories for their branches of posterity.
Kent talked on Journal writing, and shared a very dramatic contrast between Captain Scott's journal "The Last Expedition" and the only thing which he has written from his mother a postcard sent to him while at Boy Scout Camp. He read some journal excerpts from our first date, Chad's account of Grandma's death, and my account of Ryan escaping electrocution. It was very good. We seemed to have hit a common thread of Spirit in the audience; nearly everyone told us how much they enjoyed our family's Sacrament Meeting talks.
1988
I tried to tell as near as possible a story I heard on a record album once many years ago, (which I looked for desperately on Saturday and called everyone I knew to see if I could find it) called "Keep My Memory Green". It is the story of a young man who has had a bitter childhood, and disillusioned with life and the unhappiness he sees around him, believes that the world would be a happier place if people could forget the past. On Christmas Eve he gets this wish and sees the consequences of it. Without remembering the past, people no longer have the capacity to repent and have hope for a better future. There is no compassion for others in their suffering. People are selfish, and there is no goodness in the world. He remembers that great past event of the Savior's atoning sacrifice and the message of hope and Divine Love that he offers to the world, and he prays to have his wish undone. The next morning, Christmas, his housekeeper comes in and he realizes that everything is back to normal. He is grateful, and bows his head and prays, Oh, Lord, ever keep my memory green.
I said that the Lord wants us to keep our memories green both our collective memories of the past which we share with others, as well as our personal memories of the Lord's goodness to us. I told about a collective memory which my brothers and sisters and I were able to help preserve of my mother's history through videotapes and interviews. We recorded my parents struggles to make right decisions regarding prayer and tithing during their early married life, their gratitude to the Lord for his great blessings in spite of imminent death and separation, and their hopes for their children to be true to their family ties.
Then I shared an excerpt of my journal dated Dec 31, 1987, regarding my feelings about recording her history, and my testimony of the Lord's great blessings to my family and for the principle of tithing during our tremendous financial struggles. I closed by saying that the only ones who would survive the future would be those who had a strong commitment to their family ties who strove to be true and keep their memory "green" of their ancestral roots and their personal memories for their branches of posterity.
Kent talked on Journal writing, and shared a very dramatic contrast between Captain Scott's journal "The Last Expedition" and the only thing which he has written from his mother a postcard sent to him while at Boy Scout Camp. He read some journal excerpts from our first date, Chad's account of Grandma's death, and my account of Ryan escaping electrocution. It was very good. We seemed to have hit a common thread of Spirit in the audience; nearly everyone told us how much they enjoyed our family's Sacrament Meeting talks.
1988
Ryan update
(Ryan)He always comes home from school feeling good about himself. Having him in afternoon kindergarten is good for him because he is such a slow mover in the morning. He takes an hour to put on his shoes. He has a crush on Mrs. Martin, the morning kindergarten teacher though He says he thinks she is the nicest teacher. (She tested him for kindergarten in May or June.) He likes to say "hi" to her. Ms. Hankla, his teacher, says that he has lots of girlfriends in the class. He likes Hannah (who wears earrings), Andrea, and Ashley. His big school brother is named Eric. He is in Mrs. Harrison's class and a week ago on Friday he and Ryan ate celery and carrot sticks with "Pokey", Ryan's teddy bear with the hands that Velcro together. He wanted to have Rachel, but he couldn't. Rachel delivers milk to him and the other kindergartners every day. a He surely is a sweet child, blowing me kisses and patiently helping Ashley. Last night he showed Ashley how to eat a carrot stick so that she could get some pudding for dessert. She had resisted all of my coaxing, but after watching Ryan, she decided to try it and succeeded. He is certainly very sweet and unselfish with her.
Uncle David gave Chad some aftershave cologne. Chad decided he didn't like Old Spice and so he gave it to Ryan. Ryan splashes it on before school and church. He's quite fragrant these days. His old speech teacher told me that one time he asked her if she smelled anything good. She sniffed and said yes. He beamed, patted his neck, and said, "It's me!"
1988
(Ryan)He always comes home from school feeling good about himself. Having him in afternoon kindergarten is good for him because he is such a slow mover in the morning. He takes an hour to put on his shoes. He has a crush on Mrs. Martin, the morning kindergarten teacher though He says he thinks she is the nicest teacher. (She tested him for kindergarten in May or June.) He likes to say "hi" to her. Ms. Hankla, his teacher, says that he has lots of girlfriends in the class. He likes Hannah (who wears earrings), Andrea, and Ashley. His big school brother is named Eric. He is in Mrs. Harrison's class and a week ago on Friday he and Ryan ate celery and carrot sticks with "Pokey", Ryan's teddy bear with the hands that Velcro together. He wanted to have Rachel, but he couldn't. Rachel delivers milk to him and the other kindergartners every day. a He surely is a sweet child, blowing me kisses and patiently helping Ashley. Last night he showed Ashley how to eat a carrot stick so that she could get some pudding for dessert. She had resisted all of my coaxing, but after watching Ryan, she decided to try it and succeeded. He is certainly very sweet and unselfish with her.
Uncle David gave Chad some aftershave cologne. Chad decided he didn't like Old Spice and so he gave it to Ryan. Ryan splashes it on before school and church. He's quite fragrant these days. His old speech teacher told me that one time he asked her if she smelled anything good. She sniffed and said yes. He beamed, patted his neck, and said, "It's me!"
1988
Dear Chad,
This morning Rachel folded your papers and Eric threw them out of the Volvo while I drove him around the street. We remembered that the people across the street do not want a paper but we couldn't remember who else so we gave everyone a paper. Eric remembered to walk up to the doorstep the ones who like that done at the end of Hyssop. He only got one in the gutter which got all wet, so he gave them a new one. It was the people in Kara Moody's old house. I called the Signal and told them you would be gone until Saturday, and needed someone to deliver Tuesday thru Friday. They said "Thank you".
Today in Sunday school class there were only three girls there (tm)Jessica, Rebecca Mefford, and Amber Blair. Since it was Fast Sunday all the Melchezideck Priesthood blessed and passed the Sacrament. After Primary was over, I kept feeling like I was missing someone and should wait for them. I guess it was you.
Last night after you left we went swimming, cleaned up the house, ate hamburgers, and watched "Airwolf". Today we are going to watch a movie and have dinner early.
I love you very much. I am proud of you because you try hard to do what's right. Have a nice time. I hope you can finish your fishing merit badge and archery and canoeing and shot gun, so you can pass them off too. Be sure to not tank up on sugar but rather eat healthy snacks so you feel better. Lots of love, Mom
1988
This morning Rachel folded your papers and Eric threw them out of the Volvo while I drove him around the street. We remembered that the people across the street do not want a paper but we couldn't remember who else so we gave everyone a paper. Eric remembered to walk up to the doorstep the ones who like that done at the end of Hyssop. He only got one in the gutter which got all wet, so he gave them a new one. It was the people in Kara Moody's old house. I called the Signal and told them you would be gone until Saturday, and needed someone to deliver Tuesday thru Friday. They said "Thank you".
Today in Sunday school class there were only three girls there (tm)Jessica, Rebecca Mefford, and Amber Blair. Since it was Fast Sunday all the Melchezideck Priesthood blessed and passed the Sacrament. After Primary was over, I kept feeling like I was missing someone and should wait for them. I guess it was you.
Last night after you left we went swimming, cleaned up the house, ate hamburgers, and watched "Airwolf". Today we are going to watch a movie and have dinner early.
I love you very much. I am proud of you because you try hard to do what's right. Have a nice time. I hope you can finish your fishing merit badge and archery and canoeing and shot gun, so you can pass them off too. Be sure to not tank up on sugar but rather eat healthy snacks so you feel better. Lots of love, Mom
1988
Dear Kent,
Yesterday afternoon after you left I took a nice nap, then went swimming with the kids. When we got home, we made the beds, cleaned the house, ate hamburgers for dinner, watched "Airwolf", read some books and went to bed. This morning, Eric and Rachel did Chad's route and I called the Signal.
This afternoon the children are watching Fawlty Towers; there's nothing really on TV. We've already done journals. At 4:00 pm we're going to eat and take a walk around the tract to deliver swimming cards, then come home for a bowl of ice cream and Disney.
In church today, Kevin Large bore a very moving testimony about his decision to go on a mission and how grateful he was for the church's true principles, including no paid ministry, which allowed him to serve in the Bishopric and fumble around. Then Shandra Forinash told about her doubts about her marriage outside the church and her fiancé’s interest in the Book of Mormon, fascination with her family, and friendship with another LDS young man on his ship. They are holding meetings, praying and studying together. She expressed her love for her brothers and sisters and her parents in a very sweet way.
We had only three girls in class today: Amber, Jessica, and Rebecca M. Today is Corey Greenlaw's farewell. Terry Beitler showed up with about 8 of his scouts on their way to scout camp in Catalina. The Conkling and Andrus babies were blessed. Chris Conkling didn't know what to say and so he and the Bishop had a hurried up whispered conference while his male family members all stood around the circle and everyone in the audience waited with baited breaths. Lorna and Rich bore very sweet testimonies about the joy of having another child in their homes.
Ryan is bored and hungry. Eric broke his fast early with my okay. (He sure gets in a bad mood when he is hungry.) Everybody is safe and healthy. I wish I'd thought of your pants and belt early enough for you to have them up with you. I'll write you again tomorrow; right at this moment Ryan is setting the timer on me to fix dinner.
I love you very much and I miss you too (especially at night). Suzanne
1988, August 7
Yesterday afternoon after you left I took a nice nap, then went swimming with the kids. When we got home, we made the beds, cleaned the house, ate hamburgers for dinner, watched "Airwolf", read some books and went to bed. This morning, Eric and Rachel did Chad's route and I called the Signal.
This afternoon the children are watching Fawlty Towers; there's nothing really on TV. We've already done journals. At 4:00 pm we're going to eat and take a walk around the tract to deliver swimming cards, then come home for a bowl of ice cream and Disney.
In church today, Kevin Large bore a very moving testimony about his decision to go on a mission and how grateful he was for the church's true principles, including no paid ministry, which allowed him to serve in the Bishopric and fumble around. Then Shandra Forinash told about her doubts about her marriage outside the church and her fiancé’s interest in the Book of Mormon, fascination with her family, and friendship with another LDS young man on his ship. They are holding meetings, praying and studying together. She expressed her love for her brothers and sisters and her parents in a very sweet way.
We had only three girls in class today: Amber, Jessica, and Rebecca M. Today is Corey Greenlaw's farewell. Terry Beitler showed up with about 8 of his scouts on their way to scout camp in Catalina. The Conkling and Andrus babies were blessed. Chris Conkling didn't know what to say and so he and the Bishop had a hurried up whispered conference while his male family members all stood around the circle and everyone in the audience waited with baited breaths. Lorna and Rich bore very sweet testimonies about the joy of having another child in their homes.
Ryan is bored and hungry. Eric broke his fast early with my okay. (He sure gets in a bad mood when he is hungry.) Everybody is safe and healthy. I wish I'd thought of your pants and belt early enough for you to have them up with you. I'll write you again tomorrow; right at this moment Ryan is setting the timer on me to fix dinner.
I love you very much and I miss you too (especially at night). Suzanne
1988, August 7
Suzanne
Kent is up at Scout camp this week. He has really grown in his confidence and leadership ability this past year. Last year at this time he was the Varsity Scout Leader and went with them down to Mexico. He really didn't like that calling, because he had to run the whole show himself, with no support from other ward priesthood leaders, the scout committee, the parents, or the boys themselves. Even his stake leader called him up and chewed him out for about 15 minutes on the phone for missing a stake Varsity party to help me out at a Blazer campout. Then he was called to work with me in the Blazer program and in the Primary class. We enjoyed working together and he saw how it was supposed to work and could with workable, willing young men. He went with me to regional scout leadership meeting and I got him to go to Scout Training in June. Then when he was asked to be the Scoutmaster he said he would on condition he get the priesthood direction and support the way the church stated the scouting was supposed to get as the Aaronic Priesthood activity arm. So they put in a new Deacon's Quorum Advisor, Kerry Davis, who has a scout age son, who agreed to be assistant scout master while Kent was his assistant Deacon's quorum advisor. I was also put in as Troop Committee Chairman. Kent was released as Sunday School Teacher but he comes into the class to help support me. I'm going to continue to teach that class and try to be Blazer scout leader until January. We get to continue to work together and he feels a lot better about working in the Scouting program, now he doesn't have to carry all the weight on his own shoulders. I predict that he is going to become a great priesthood youth leader. He already works well with the boys, having established a good rapport previously when working with me. His teaching and behavior modification skills are really useful as well.
My patriarchal blessing states that the Lord has a great work for me to do in connection with my family. Maybe it is just in helping Kent to realize his talents and potential as a youth leader. My patriarchal blessing also warns me to be humble and sweet about ten times. It seems that pride is my greatest weakness. Today I taught only 3 Merrie Miss B girls in Sunday School a lesson on "Be Thou Humble". C.S. Lewis wrote:” Pride is essentially competitive.....Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than any other man." The opposite of pride is humility, which is the ability to recognize one's dependence on God for everything we have and are. It is essentially the outcome of gratitude for the Lord's goodness in our lives, and the realization of the Lord's love for all his children. It is the precursor to all Godly attributes including Faith, Hope, and that greatest of all gifts charity, true Christ like love. It is the ability to say:” I will go where you want me to go, dear Lord....I'll say what you want me to say...." When we are not humble, we do not want to be guided by the Lord and his Spirit leaves us. This was the downfall of the Nephites, and is the greatest problem in the church today.
We are reading in 3 Nephi now with the children in our family scripture reading. It is so poignantly tragic to read of the Nephites quick return to evil and the destruction of their society before the Savior's birth and again before his visit after his resurrection. I cannot help but believe that we may witness a similar downfall of our own society in this great land of America before the Savior's second coming. Drugs, immorality and political corruption are so rampant now, I fear for my children and grandchildren. On the other hand, great political improvements are happening in countries that were once considered America's enemies China and the Iron curtain countries, so that now missionaries can teach the people who are largely innocent and sheltered by their once oppressive governments. We may someday see them become more righteous than us, just like the Lamanites did during Book of Mormon times before the Savior's birth. The nickname "Mormon" is actually a great compliment. To be called after that great lonely righteous leader and father, who stayed true with his son, despite depravity all around him is indeed symbolic of the kind of life we would want our children to lead.
We discussed this today after scripture reading. Eric wanted to know if the righteous would die during the tough times ahead. I said that some of them would, but that both the living and the dead who were righteous would be caught up to meet Jesus as he returned to the earth, and that the important thing was that we be among those who were part of either group. Sometimes those who are good do suffer, but if we are trying to do what's right, we will be blessed and comforted by the Lord. So he prayed very sweetly and sincerely both in morning and evening prayers today that our family would endure to the end. That is the greatest prayer of my heart as well.
1988
Kent is up at Scout camp this week. He has really grown in his confidence and leadership ability this past year. Last year at this time he was the Varsity Scout Leader and went with them down to Mexico. He really didn't like that calling, because he had to run the whole show himself, with no support from other ward priesthood leaders, the scout committee, the parents, or the boys themselves. Even his stake leader called him up and chewed him out for about 15 minutes on the phone for missing a stake Varsity party to help me out at a Blazer campout. Then he was called to work with me in the Blazer program and in the Primary class. We enjoyed working together and he saw how it was supposed to work and could with workable, willing young men. He went with me to regional scout leadership meeting and I got him to go to Scout Training in June. Then when he was asked to be the Scoutmaster he said he would on condition he get the priesthood direction and support the way the church stated the scouting was supposed to get as the Aaronic Priesthood activity arm. So they put in a new Deacon's Quorum Advisor, Kerry Davis, who has a scout age son, who agreed to be assistant scout master while Kent was his assistant Deacon's quorum advisor. I was also put in as Troop Committee Chairman. Kent was released as Sunday School Teacher but he comes into the class to help support me. I'm going to continue to teach that class and try to be Blazer scout leader until January. We get to continue to work together and he feels a lot better about working in the Scouting program, now he doesn't have to carry all the weight on his own shoulders. I predict that he is going to become a great priesthood youth leader. He already works well with the boys, having established a good rapport previously when working with me. His teaching and behavior modification skills are really useful as well.
My patriarchal blessing states that the Lord has a great work for me to do in connection with my family. Maybe it is just in helping Kent to realize his talents and potential as a youth leader. My patriarchal blessing also warns me to be humble and sweet about ten times. It seems that pride is my greatest weakness. Today I taught only 3 Merrie Miss B girls in Sunday School a lesson on "Be Thou Humble". C.S. Lewis wrote:” Pride is essentially competitive.....Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than any other man." The opposite of pride is humility, which is the ability to recognize one's dependence on God for everything we have and are. It is essentially the outcome of gratitude for the Lord's goodness in our lives, and the realization of the Lord's love for all his children. It is the precursor to all Godly attributes including Faith, Hope, and that greatest of all gifts charity, true Christ like love. It is the ability to say:” I will go where you want me to go, dear Lord....I'll say what you want me to say...." When we are not humble, we do not want to be guided by the Lord and his Spirit leaves us. This was the downfall of the Nephites, and is the greatest problem in the church today.
We are reading in 3 Nephi now with the children in our family scripture reading. It is so poignantly tragic to read of the Nephites quick return to evil and the destruction of their society before the Savior's birth and again before his visit after his resurrection. I cannot help but believe that we may witness a similar downfall of our own society in this great land of America before the Savior's second coming. Drugs, immorality and political corruption are so rampant now, I fear for my children and grandchildren. On the other hand, great political improvements are happening in countries that were once considered America's enemies China and the Iron curtain countries, so that now missionaries can teach the people who are largely innocent and sheltered by their once oppressive governments. We may someday see them become more righteous than us, just like the Lamanites did during Book of Mormon times before the Savior's birth. The nickname "Mormon" is actually a great compliment. To be called after that great lonely righteous leader and father, who stayed true with his son, despite depravity all around him is indeed symbolic of the kind of life we would want our children to lead.
We discussed this today after scripture reading. Eric wanted to know if the righteous would die during the tough times ahead. I said that some of them would, but that both the living and the dead who were righteous would be caught up to meet Jesus as he returned to the earth, and that the important thing was that we be among those who were part of either group. Sometimes those who are good do suffer, but if we are trying to do what's right, we will be blessed and comforted by the Lord. So he prayed very sweetly and sincerely both in morning and evening prayers today that our family would endure to the end. That is the greatest prayer of my heart as well.
1988
James Brown Remarriage
My dad is getting remarried in just over a week. I confess to being somewhat resistant emotionally at first, even though intellectually I knew that this was the right move for him to make.
Just after my mother's death he was on a kind of spiritual high that sustained him for a few weeks. Then in the fall, the depression really hit. He'd go through mother's pictures and things and cry, and not sleep at night but sleep in the daytime. He was a basket case. I'd put his name on the prayer roll and point out sweet widows like Mary Ogden...etc. Then one night I had a dream in which dad said the escrow had just closed and that he was ready to start dating again. He needed someone to care for and give his life meaning. I remember feeling so overwhelmingly happy for him. I thought about this dream for some time afterwards and even told him about it on the phone. He said that it would be nice to feel that way, because right then all he wanted was for mother to come back. When the dream mentioned "escrow closing" I thought it meant his escrow on his property; we expected our Acton escrow to close any day.
He never really went out with anyone until in the Springtime, just before his 50th High School Reunion, at the suggestion of John Allen (counselor in Hacienda Heights Stake Presidency) he looked up a former high school sweetheart Elaine Spilsbury Phelps. He'd gone with her before the war, but didn't ask her to wait. Later she married Rex Phelps and they had five children, 4 boys and 1 girl (one boy drowned at 18). When he passed away, she married Pres. Allen's cousin named Millet. He died too, and she was widowed again. Dad took her out to lunch and saw her again at the reunion. He felt very comfortable around her because of their common friends, background, knowledge, etc., and so he began flying over to see her about every Wednesday (his day off from the office). He liked her more and more, but was overwhelmed at the obstacles in their relationship primarily that all her friends, family, and possessions were in Arizona, and all his were here in California, including his job and church responsibilities. I was very pessimistic about it and tried to talk him into dating some women around here, remembering that mother said that she had someone at the temple picked out for him. I thought that the merger of a second marriage would be easier if they had more territory in common here around the L.A. temple. I also selfishly didn't want him to move to Arizona, and was emotionally opposed to a move or upheaval at the folk’s home. Reading about the breakup of Lee Iacocca’s 2nd marriage didn't help my attitude about this one. But he said he felt more comfortable around her than any other women, would be crushed if she told him to get lost, and felt that he wanted to play this relationship out before associating with anyone else. Pres. Allen told dad he ought to marry her and not worry about the obstacles (which made me mad I thought he was pretty presumptuous to tell my dad that).
1988 June (11, 12, & 13)
Life in Saugus
In June Janna and Jim were coming down and we planned a big get-together. Coincidentally it was also Hacienda Heights Stake conference and Dad was speaking in the Saturday evening session. Pres. Allen convinced dad to invite Elaine over that same weekend to stay with the Allens and meet us. It was a lovely weekend. We had a Brown cousins birthday party and gift exchange on Saturday and met Elaine. She was very shy, but lovely and gracious. That evening we all went out to Stake Conference to hear dad speak on Developing True Christ like love (we got a copy of this on videotape from Gary Chasteen, H.H. stake custodian); then we went to The Old World Delicatessen for Frozen Yogurt on dad's treat. Mark and Karen Gardiner watched our children and we spent the night with them.
Sunday morning we all went to stake conference and met again afterwards for lunch and a Father's Day celebration (a week early since we were all together). Barbara had made Dad a tie and embroidered all the names of the grandchildren on it. Then we went through some craft things in the workroom and Bedroom armoire while dad and Elaine went visiting and he played the organ. We all noticed how happy and radiant dad was. Elaine went home that evening.
Monday everyone but Judy and Grandma came out to our place to swim, eat, and discuss genealogy. Dad was back to his usual glum self and slept most of the time on the floor in the front room. I think he realized then he was at the point of no return, and was going to have to move on from the past. We all noticed he was back to his old glum self again. Tuesday morning we talked on the phone and he told me that if things kept going the way they were, it looked like he and Elaine were going to get married. He said that she was a whole person, one whom he didn't feel as if he had to prop up. He also said that she was so pleasant and easy to be around, and very optimistic about the future, wanting to go on a mission with him, etc. I said that those were very important qualities in a wife, and that I appreciated her for how she made him feel. He told me this the very week our Acton escrow problems were resolved and it successfully closed. I remembered the dream I had last November and marveled and quieted my personal doubts.
1988 July 1
Brown Stuff
My dad is getting remarried in just over a week. I confess to being somewhat resistant emotionally at first, even though intellectually I knew that this was the right move for him to make.
Just after my mother's death he was on a kind of spiritual high that sustained him for a few weeks. Then in the fall, the depression really hit. He'd go through mother's pictures and things and cry, and not sleep at night but sleep in the daytime. He was a basket case. I'd put his name on the prayer roll and point out sweet widows like Mary Ogden...etc. Then one night I had a dream in which dad said the escrow had just closed and that he was ready to start dating again. He needed someone to care for and give his life meaning. I remember feeling so overwhelmingly happy for him. I thought about this dream for some time afterwards and even told him about it on the phone. He said that it would be nice to feel that way, because right then all he wanted was for mother to come back. When the dream mentioned "escrow closing" I thought it meant his escrow on his property; we expected our Acton escrow to close any day.
He never really went out with anyone until in the Springtime, just before his 50th High School Reunion, at the suggestion of John Allen (counselor in Hacienda Heights Stake Presidency) he looked up a former high school sweetheart Elaine Spilsbury Phelps. He'd gone with her before the war, but didn't ask her to wait. Later she married Rex Phelps and they had five children, 4 boys and 1 girl (one boy drowned at 18). When he passed away, she married Pres. Allen's cousin named Millet. He died too, and she was widowed again. Dad took her out to lunch and saw her again at the reunion. He felt very comfortable around her because of their common friends, background, knowledge, etc., and so he began flying over to see her about every Wednesday (his day off from the office). He liked her more and more, but was overwhelmed at the obstacles in their relationship primarily that all her friends, family, and possessions were in Arizona, and all his were here in California, including his job and church responsibilities. I was very pessimistic about it and tried to talk him into dating some women around here, remembering that mother said that she had someone at the temple picked out for him. I thought that the merger of a second marriage would be easier if they had more territory in common here around the L.A. temple. I also selfishly didn't want him to move to Arizona, and was emotionally opposed to a move or upheaval at the folk’s home. Reading about the breakup of Lee Iacocca’s 2nd marriage didn't help my attitude about this one. But he said he felt more comfortable around her than any other women, would be crushed if she told him to get lost, and felt that he wanted to play this relationship out before associating with anyone else. Pres. Allen told dad he ought to marry her and not worry about the obstacles (which made me mad I thought he was pretty presumptuous to tell my dad that).
1988 June (11, 12, & 13)
Life in Saugus
In June Janna and Jim were coming down and we planned a big get-together. Coincidentally it was also Hacienda Heights Stake conference and Dad was speaking in the Saturday evening session. Pres. Allen convinced dad to invite Elaine over that same weekend to stay with the Allens and meet us. It was a lovely weekend. We had a Brown cousins birthday party and gift exchange on Saturday and met Elaine. She was very shy, but lovely and gracious. That evening we all went out to Stake Conference to hear dad speak on Developing True Christ like love (we got a copy of this on videotape from Gary Chasteen, H.H. stake custodian); then we went to The Old World Delicatessen for Frozen Yogurt on dad's treat. Mark and Karen Gardiner watched our children and we spent the night with them.
Sunday morning we all went to stake conference and met again afterwards for lunch and a Father's Day celebration (a week early since we were all together). Barbara had made Dad a tie and embroidered all the names of the grandchildren on it. Then we went through some craft things in the workroom and Bedroom armoire while dad and Elaine went visiting and he played the organ. We all noticed how happy and radiant dad was. Elaine went home that evening.
Monday everyone but Judy and Grandma came out to our place to swim, eat, and discuss genealogy. Dad was back to his usual glum self and slept most of the time on the floor in the front room. I think he realized then he was at the point of no return, and was going to have to move on from the past. We all noticed he was back to his old glum self again. Tuesday morning we talked on the phone and he told me that if things kept going the way they were, it looked like he and Elaine were going to get married. He said that she was a whole person, one whom he didn't feel as if he had to prop up. He also said that she was so pleasant and easy to be around, and very optimistic about the future, wanting to go on a mission with him, etc. I said that those were very important qualities in a wife, and that I appreciated her for how she made him feel. He told me this the very week our Acton escrow problems were resolved and it successfully closed. I remembered the dream I had last November and marveled and quieted my personal doubts.
1988 July 1
Brown Stuff
On July
1, we went to see him for check ups and he gave me a hug in the hallway and
said that he never thought that he could be happy again, like he was with
Elaine. The following Wednesday, while we were visiting with Johanna in Yuba
City, he went to Mesa and proposed to her. She accepted and agreed to come here
and live. They decided to put each other's properties before marriage into a
trust fund for their own posterity with the exception of the income from the
five acres of his (that he is splitting off in escrow) which he and Elaine will
live on. When we got back in town we found all this out.
Dad also decided to have a big open house at the home. Elaine really didn't want this but Judy encouraged it. At first I thought that Judy had talked him into this and I tried to talk him out of it again if Elaine really didn't want it. I was really concerned about Elaine's feelings coming over here to live in mom's house and leaving everything behind. I was also concerned about my dad who seemed to just want someone to take mother's place, not make any concessions or changes in his life. I talked about it with him on Sunday July 17 when we were all together sorting out the rest of the workroom. He was quite disturbed, but told me on Monday over the phone that he'd thought about it during the night and decided that he really wanted to show Elaine off, and did want to have a big open house. I decided maybe I was being Devil's Advocate because I was emotionally still opposed to the changes coming up. I also don't like feeling pressured into doing things myself, and so am sensitive if I think others are doing that to him.
Judy, Felice Smith, Barbara and I talked about cleaning the house up some more for Elaine. We all felt that it really needed some professional work done. But before this, we needed to go through some more drawers, files, closets, and cupboards etc. Barbara Judy and I got together Friday and Saturday 7/29 & 30 to go through the Christmas closet, books, upstairs file boxes, mother's desk, and address envelopes. Felice Smith came over to help. I called Roger Burks, an LDS man who owns a professional cleaning service to come over and give an estimate Tuesday morning to dad. Felice got a floor man to come over also, and said that she would be there too. She has been very sweet and supportive. I never appreciated her so much as I have since mother's death. I woke up very early Friday morning the 29th and couldn't go back to sleep. I kept thinking about the furniture, genealogy and jewelry, and how dad ought to divide this up as soon as possible or it wouldn't get done, or at least, not done fairly. Dad still wasn't ready to let go of very many things. Judy did talk him into letting us go over mom's jewelry the Sunday before the wedding which was a big step. And he gave out most of the genealogy to me to sort through, although he kept all the personal history boxes (which I hope he moves from his bedroom before the wedding). But he said that he wanted to keep everything else until after the wedding so that Elaine could see it all and decide what she wanted to keep or not. Dad said Elaine really didn't like antiques (except for him) and didn't like the dark wood in the bedroom. She wanted to bring over her own bedroom set and he thought he would sell his. I was glad to hear that Elaine and he would not be using the bed my mother died in. The bedroom set was too big and dark for me too, but as I realized that they would be weeding out things and giving things away as they combined households, went on a mission, sold the big house and bought or built a new one, I began making a list of things my brothers and sisters and I were interested in. I confess that I did swipe a bud vase that had deep sentimental attachment for me, and gave Barbara mom's desk set (porcelain tape dispenser, letter opener). Felice said that we could probably take several things and he wouldn't even know that they were gone, but I felt guilty taking anything else.
Judy and I talked Dad into letting us girls have the two music boxes and the rocker (in name only he's not ready to part with them yet). Judy took the rocker, Janna the little music box, and I got the big music box which was my favorite. Charlie said that if we girls all got a choice like that (he liked the big music box too,) then the boys should also get an extra choice item. Kent thought that was fair and I had to agree. David and Jim didn't really care, but Charlie wanted the wall clock with the brass pendulum and weight, which was one of my very favorite things. I guess we'll have to stay in touch and he can come visit the music box at my house and I can come see the clock at his.
As I talked to everyone about the other things they liked I stewed about the best way to handle this. Monday morning early I woke up again and knew that I had to go out to the folks and list everything I could in the house and mail everyone a copy so that they could vote on the items they wanted by assigning them numbers in order of priority to them. Then I could compile the lists, and give them to dad. I'll actually make two lists one by individual that can be attached to his will, and one by room so that as he and Elaine start eliminating stuff he'll know who to give certain items to. My brother Jim was very sensitive about not wanting to grab the stuff out from under dad and Elaine, but I think he saw the fairness and equality of this method (tm)otherwise those who were shy or lived far away may not get anything as the years go by. Also, as I told my dad, the sentimental attachment we have to some of the furnishings and knickknacks means more to us than the money we will inherit someday, and it is a way of preserving mother's memory in our homes and emotionally adjusting to the changes in his life.
Kent and I spent about 5 hours listing everything I would call the items out by room and he would type it in to the computer. I've also run up a fortune in phone bills talking to everyone. But I would like everyone to be happy and I think this will help to avoid regrets and hard feelings later. I believe that this is what my mother would want us to do. I've revised my list several times, even coming up with substitute items as my list shrinks because others have chosen the same things. I think I'll call the others and let them choose additional items to add to their shrunken lists so that we still all get twenty items. There were some things on mine (like the cranberry pickle jar) that were the same numbers on one of my brothers or sisters' lists, but I've let them have it because I think my mother would want me to. I am going to ask my grandmother to will me her cranberry pickle jar though (fortunately she has one similar to mom's).
1988
Dad also decided to have a big open house at the home. Elaine really didn't want this but Judy encouraged it. At first I thought that Judy had talked him into this and I tried to talk him out of it again if Elaine really didn't want it. I was really concerned about Elaine's feelings coming over here to live in mom's house and leaving everything behind. I was also concerned about my dad who seemed to just want someone to take mother's place, not make any concessions or changes in his life. I talked about it with him on Sunday July 17 when we were all together sorting out the rest of the workroom. He was quite disturbed, but told me on Monday over the phone that he'd thought about it during the night and decided that he really wanted to show Elaine off, and did want to have a big open house. I decided maybe I was being Devil's Advocate because I was emotionally still opposed to the changes coming up. I also don't like feeling pressured into doing things myself, and so am sensitive if I think others are doing that to him.
Judy, Felice Smith, Barbara and I talked about cleaning the house up some more for Elaine. We all felt that it really needed some professional work done. But before this, we needed to go through some more drawers, files, closets, and cupboards etc. Barbara Judy and I got together Friday and Saturday 7/29 & 30 to go through the Christmas closet, books, upstairs file boxes, mother's desk, and address envelopes. Felice Smith came over to help. I called Roger Burks, an LDS man who owns a professional cleaning service to come over and give an estimate Tuesday morning to dad. Felice got a floor man to come over also, and said that she would be there too. She has been very sweet and supportive. I never appreciated her so much as I have since mother's death. I woke up very early Friday morning the 29th and couldn't go back to sleep. I kept thinking about the furniture, genealogy and jewelry, and how dad ought to divide this up as soon as possible or it wouldn't get done, or at least, not done fairly. Dad still wasn't ready to let go of very many things. Judy did talk him into letting us go over mom's jewelry the Sunday before the wedding which was a big step. And he gave out most of the genealogy to me to sort through, although he kept all the personal history boxes (which I hope he moves from his bedroom before the wedding). But he said that he wanted to keep everything else until after the wedding so that Elaine could see it all and decide what she wanted to keep or not. Dad said Elaine really didn't like antiques (except for him) and didn't like the dark wood in the bedroom. She wanted to bring over her own bedroom set and he thought he would sell his. I was glad to hear that Elaine and he would not be using the bed my mother died in. The bedroom set was too big and dark for me too, but as I realized that they would be weeding out things and giving things away as they combined households, went on a mission, sold the big house and bought or built a new one, I began making a list of things my brothers and sisters and I were interested in. I confess that I did swipe a bud vase that had deep sentimental attachment for me, and gave Barbara mom's desk set (porcelain tape dispenser, letter opener). Felice said that we could probably take several things and he wouldn't even know that they were gone, but I felt guilty taking anything else.
Judy and I talked Dad into letting us girls have the two music boxes and the rocker (in name only he's not ready to part with them yet). Judy took the rocker, Janna the little music box, and I got the big music box which was my favorite. Charlie said that if we girls all got a choice like that (he liked the big music box too,) then the boys should also get an extra choice item. Kent thought that was fair and I had to agree. David and Jim didn't really care, but Charlie wanted the wall clock with the brass pendulum and weight, which was one of my very favorite things. I guess we'll have to stay in touch and he can come visit the music box at my house and I can come see the clock at his.
As I talked to everyone about the other things they liked I stewed about the best way to handle this. Monday morning early I woke up again and knew that I had to go out to the folks and list everything I could in the house and mail everyone a copy so that they could vote on the items they wanted by assigning them numbers in order of priority to them. Then I could compile the lists, and give them to dad. I'll actually make two lists one by individual that can be attached to his will, and one by room so that as he and Elaine start eliminating stuff he'll know who to give certain items to. My brother Jim was very sensitive about not wanting to grab the stuff out from under dad and Elaine, but I think he saw the fairness and equality of this method (tm)otherwise those who were shy or lived far away may not get anything as the years go by. Also, as I told my dad, the sentimental attachment we have to some of the furnishings and knickknacks means more to us than the money we will inherit someday, and it is a way of preserving mother's memory in our homes and emotionally adjusting to the changes in his life.
Kent and I spent about 5 hours listing everything I would call the items out by room and he would type it in to the computer. I've also run up a fortune in phone bills talking to everyone. But I would like everyone to be happy and I think this will help to avoid regrets and hard feelings later. I believe that this is what my mother would want us to do. I've revised my list several times, even coming up with substitute items as my list shrinks because others have chosen the same things. I think I'll call the others and let them choose additional items to add to their shrunken lists so that we still all get twenty items. There were some things on mine (like the cranberry pickle jar) that were the same numbers on one of my brothers or sisters' lists, but I've let them have it because I think my mother would want me to. I am going to ask my grandmother to will me her cranberry pickle jar though (fortunately she has one similar to mom's).
1988
The List
Judy is coming tomorrow to help me compile the lists. I think its because she is very anxious about her list. I confess to feeling somewhat competitive with her over some things. I hope that working together on this will help her see how fair I'm trying to be, and help us be close together. Friday night the 29th she and I had a nice chat in the Breakfast room about the house and dad's marriage and then about herself and our relationship. She said that she knew that sometimes she wasn't very sensitive to those around her it was usually because she was feeling so stressed out, and that she always worried that I hadn't quite forgiven her for the last time she had stuck her foot in her mouth (which was true, unfortunately, I do harbor grudges). We had a very nice open chat and I felt closer, more sympathetic towards her than I have in a long time. My mother would have been glad. I even gave her a kiss on the cheek before bed......We watched her kids for her last Friday while she and Michael went to Magic Mountain together. She was very grateful. She is so very appreciative of little niceties. Kent says she needs to be forgiven daily, and gently taught skills to increase her confidence and social ability. He's right.
1988
Judy is coming tomorrow to help me compile the lists. I think its because she is very anxious about her list. I confess to feeling somewhat competitive with her over some things. I hope that working together on this will help her see how fair I'm trying to be, and help us be close together. Friday night the 29th she and I had a nice chat in the Breakfast room about the house and dad's marriage and then about herself and our relationship. She said that she knew that sometimes she wasn't very sensitive to those around her it was usually because she was feeling so stressed out, and that she always worried that I hadn't quite forgiven her for the last time she had stuck her foot in her mouth (which was true, unfortunately, I do harbor grudges). We had a very nice open chat and I felt closer, more sympathetic towards her than I have in a long time. My mother would have been glad. I even gave her a kiss on the cheek before bed......We watched her kids for her last Friday while she and Michael went to Magic Mountain together. She was very grateful. She is so very appreciative of little niceties. Kent says she needs to be forgiven daily, and gently taught skills to increase her confidence and social ability. He's right.
1988
Jim feeling better
Dad told me last Sunday that he was feeling better about being ready for the marriage. He said he and Elaine had driven up to Prescott together and he thought about how often he and my mother had done that together. He said he sure wished mother would come back. He said he enjoyed Elaine as a good friend and companion to help him muddle along until he and mother could be together again. I said that if she made him happy and enjoy life and want to hang around here on earth a little bit longer, she would forever hold a special place in my heart. August 18, 1988 Yesterday was my dad's wedding. Kent and I got up early to go through the 7:00 am session with Charlie and Barbara, but we got stuck in traffic and ended up going through the 7:30 session as the witness couple. That was very special. When we came into the celestial room, my grandmother and Barbara and Charlie were there waiting for us. (Charlie was wearing his Rolls Royce tie pin, much to Barbara's dismay.) As more people came we went into the sealing room just off the celestial room to the right. It was so fun to greet everyone family and old friends of my parents, as well as Elaine's family, that I'm afraid we had to be reminded to keep our voices down. We had to wait several minutes for Dad and Elaine, and we joked about them being late. (I wondered if Dad had got cold feet and decided not to go through with it).
1988
Dad told me last Sunday that he was feeling better about being ready for the marriage. He said he and Elaine had driven up to Prescott together and he thought about how often he and my mother had done that together. He said he sure wished mother would come back. He said he enjoyed Elaine as a good friend and companion to help him muddle along until he and mother could be together again. I said that if she made him happy and enjoy life and want to hang around here on earth a little bit longer, she would forever hold a special place in my heart. August 18, 1988 Yesterday was my dad's wedding. Kent and I got up early to go through the 7:00 am session with Charlie and Barbara, but we got stuck in traffic and ended up going through the 7:30 session as the witness couple. That was very special. When we came into the celestial room, my grandmother and Barbara and Charlie were there waiting for us. (Charlie was wearing his Rolls Royce tie pin, much to Barbara's dismay.) As more people came we went into the sealing room just off the celestial room to the right. It was so fun to greet everyone family and old friends of my parents, as well as Elaine's family, that I'm afraid we had to be reminded to keep our voices down. We had to wait several minutes for Dad and Elaine, and we joked about them being late. (I wondered if Dad had got cold feet and decided not to go through with it).
1988
Holding hands at a Temple Marriage
Finally they came in holding hands and looking radiant. Temple President Jack McEwan explained that the sealing room with the altar was the most sacred room in the temple, and that was why we needed to be reverent and quiet there. He had everyone in the room introduce them selves and explain their relationship to Dad or Elaine. Most of the sisters in the room were sitting, while the brethren were standing behind the chairs. The room was full of dear family and friends. As he motioned for one other sister to find a seat I got up and let her have mine while I went and sat next to Dad, and held and squeezed his hand for support. I was grateful for that privilege. My brother Jim and her youngest son Reed Phelps were the witnesses.
I thought that Pres. McEwan gave my dad some inspired advice. He told him to be sensitive to Elaine and in making adjustments (tm)that Elaine was a different, separate individual than mother. He said that they should be kind to each other. That Dad held the keys of the priesthood to bless the home. Their job was to get the other person to the celestial kingdom. They both had lots of church service left.... He said that they should say pray together every day, that if they could always talk to the lord, they could always work things out. He said that they should pray for the other person, and have the actions follow the prayer.
Then he talked about civil marriage (since Dad and Elaine are each sealed to their first spouses they were only going to be married in the temple for time, not eternity). He said that in the outside world there were many who had the authority to perform civil marriages for time without necessarily knowing or realizing the full import of what they were doing. But when a couple came to the temple to be married even though it was only for time, they were having their marriage sanctioned and blessed by the Lord. He said that the man is not without the woman and the woman is not without the man in the Lord. They needed each other, and they should continue to court and romance each other to keep each other happy. They should hold hands and kiss each other frequently on the lips. He had them both stand up apart from each other and look at each other in the mirror. He said they should always look at each other and be unselfish towards each other.
Then he asked them both to say a few remarks. My dad said that he felt that he was doing what was right, and was following his priesthood council in marrying her (referring to Pres. Allen's advice). He said that he appreciated her sacrifice in giving up everything to come and take care of him. He also said how much he loved his children. Elaine, who was very shy, said only that she loved the Lord, and was grateful to be a temple worker (she was a temple worker in the Mesa temple, and Pres. McEwan just called her to be a temple worker in the L.A. temple so she could come with Dad to the temple and work when he did).
Then they knelt across the altar and held hands in a regular hand clasp for the marriage ceremony. Pres. McEwan blessed them with all of the blessings pertaining to marriage for time in this life only. Then they kissed across the altar. Dad showed off Elaine's ring, and then they stood at the door and greeted everyone. I passed out the maps to the catering place outside the sealing room for dad (he was going to do it as people greeted him) but it was so noisy in the celestial room that I wished I'd done it down in the lobby. I didn't want to destroy the sacred spirit of that occasion.
Kent wanted to go to a special map shop to pick up a map to help him with his property investments and I didn't want to be late for the luncheon since I had a part on the program. So I hitched a ride with Jim and Carol and David in their van. They went the way Jim told them too up the San Diego Freeway and over the 134 to Arcadia, with all of the Phelps family caravanning behind us. I don't know if it was the best way to go I'm afraid her children must think all we do in L.A. is just drive around on freeways.
1988
Finally they came in holding hands and looking radiant. Temple President Jack McEwan explained that the sealing room with the altar was the most sacred room in the temple, and that was why we needed to be reverent and quiet there. He had everyone in the room introduce them selves and explain their relationship to Dad or Elaine. Most of the sisters in the room were sitting, while the brethren were standing behind the chairs. The room was full of dear family and friends. As he motioned for one other sister to find a seat I got up and let her have mine while I went and sat next to Dad, and held and squeezed his hand for support. I was grateful for that privilege. My brother Jim and her youngest son Reed Phelps were the witnesses.
I thought that Pres. McEwan gave my dad some inspired advice. He told him to be sensitive to Elaine and in making adjustments (tm)that Elaine was a different, separate individual than mother. He said that they should be kind to each other. That Dad held the keys of the priesthood to bless the home. Their job was to get the other person to the celestial kingdom. They both had lots of church service left.... He said that they should say pray together every day, that if they could always talk to the lord, they could always work things out. He said that they should pray for the other person, and have the actions follow the prayer.
Then he talked about civil marriage (since Dad and Elaine are each sealed to their first spouses they were only going to be married in the temple for time, not eternity). He said that in the outside world there were many who had the authority to perform civil marriages for time without necessarily knowing or realizing the full import of what they were doing. But when a couple came to the temple to be married even though it was only for time, they were having their marriage sanctioned and blessed by the Lord. He said that the man is not without the woman and the woman is not without the man in the Lord. They needed each other, and they should continue to court and romance each other to keep each other happy. They should hold hands and kiss each other frequently on the lips. He had them both stand up apart from each other and look at each other in the mirror. He said they should always look at each other and be unselfish towards each other.
Then he asked them both to say a few remarks. My dad said that he felt that he was doing what was right, and was following his priesthood council in marrying her (referring to Pres. Allen's advice). He said that he appreciated her sacrifice in giving up everything to come and take care of him. He also said how much he loved his children. Elaine, who was very shy, said only that she loved the Lord, and was grateful to be a temple worker (she was a temple worker in the Mesa temple, and Pres. McEwan just called her to be a temple worker in the L.A. temple so she could come with Dad to the temple and work when he did).
Then they knelt across the altar and held hands in a regular hand clasp for the marriage ceremony. Pres. McEwan blessed them with all of the blessings pertaining to marriage for time in this life only. Then they kissed across the altar. Dad showed off Elaine's ring, and then they stood at the door and greeted everyone. I passed out the maps to the catering place outside the sealing room for dad (he was going to do it as people greeted him) but it was so noisy in the celestial room that I wished I'd done it down in the lobby. I didn't want to destroy the sacred spirit of that occasion.
Kent wanted to go to a special map shop to pick up a map to help him with his property investments and I didn't want to be late for the luncheon since I had a part on the program. So I hitched a ride with Jim and Carol and David in their van. They went the way Jim told them too up the San Diego Freeway and over the 134 to Arcadia, with all of the Phelps family caravanning behind us. I don't know if it was the best way to go I'm afraid her children must think all we do in L.A. is just drive around on freeways.
1988
Special Buffet
We got to the Arcadia House where they had a beautiful buffet luncheon spread for us. I got some food and was going to sit by grandma at Dad's table, but saw most of Elaine's children and friends sitting by themselves at a separate table, so I got up and went and sat by them, saving a place for Kent who got there just before the program. I was glad that I did that, so they wouldn't feel so segregated from everyone else who were with the Browns and sitting at other tables. I visited with them Ron and Sharon Phelps, Gregg Phelps (his wife Debra, a nonmember, stayed home) Kathy and Randall Adams and some neighbors who used to collect Packards (name?) during the luncheon (her other son Reed and his wife Metcie were sitting at Dad's table with Metcie's parents the Lamoreaux.) During the program part, Elaine's daughter Kathy introduced her family to us, and then it was my turn to introduce my family to them. I told cute funny things about each of us from Grandma down to David, including spouses. The family friends who were present and knew us well especially loved it. I said all of us were products of our parents Jim and Margie, but that we never realized until this year how much my mother did. My dad was the hero while we were growing up, charging in with his white hat but he came galloping in on my mother's shoulders. He was the great leader who could see and direct others to the far off distant shore but it was my mother who maneuvered him around the rocks at his feet. He could heal men's souls, but he is at a loss when faced with a broken dishwasher pump. He can organize stakes, but not his own desk. He has five vehicles in his driveway, of which he is the sole driver, but he doesn't have enough money for living room drapes. (This got a big laugh from everyone and dad said "Well, there is such a thing as priorities!") My brother in(tm)law Glenn says that my mother used to keep Dad in line. I know that she fretted so about leaving him; she knew how helpless he is in some areas. She admonished him to remarry right away; she knew he couldn't make it alone. And she admonished us to receive with open arms his future companion out of our love for him and our desire to see him achieve his potential in life.
We got to the Arcadia House where they had a beautiful buffet luncheon spread for us. I got some food and was going to sit by grandma at Dad's table, but saw most of Elaine's children and friends sitting by themselves at a separate table, so I got up and went and sat by them, saving a place for Kent who got there just before the program. I was glad that I did that, so they wouldn't feel so segregated from everyone else who were with the Browns and sitting at other tables. I visited with them Ron and Sharon Phelps, Gregg Phelps (his wife Debra, a nonmember, stayed home) Kathy and Randall Adams and some neighbors who used to collect Packards (name?) during the luncheon (her other son Reed and his wife Metcie were sitting at Dad's table with Metcie's parents the Lamoreaux.) During the program part, Elaine's daughter Kathy introduced her family to us, and then it was my turn to introduce my family to them. I told cute funny things about each of us from Grandma down to David, including spouses. The family friends who were present and knew us well especially loved it. I said all of us were products of our parents Jim and Margie, but that we never realized until this year how much my mother did. My dad was the hero while we were growing up, charging in with his white hat but he came galloping in on my mother's shoulders. He was the great leader who could see and direct others to the far off distant shore but it was my mother who maneuvered him around the rocks at his feet. He could heal men's souls, but he is at a loss when faced with a broken dishwasher pump. He can organize stakes, but not his own desk. He has five vehicles in his driveway, of which he is the sole driver, but he doesn't have enough money for living room drapes. (This got a big laugh from everyone and dad said "Well, there is such a thing as priorities!") My brother in(tm)law Glenn says that my mother used to keep Dad in line. I know that she fretted so about leaving him; she knew how helpless he is in some areas. She admonished him to remarry right away; she knew he couldn't make it alone. And she admonished us to receive with open arms his future companion out of our love for him and our desire to see him achieve his potential in life.
1988 September 16,
Yankee
Ryan was the Yankee Doodle Dandee this week in school. He brought his blanket, his big red plastic car that he got at a garage sale for 50 cents, his little crocheted lamb made by Grandma Great, and his money box full of pennies and English coins. He also shared a family picture, a baby picture and a recent picture of himself. He told the class that he liked all the colors best, he was good at jokes, and he could teach others to be nice.
He is in Ms. Hankla's afternoon kindergarten. Ms. Hankla was all of the older children's kindergarten teacher. She even remembers when Rachel brought Ryan for sharing one day five years ago and showed her classmates how to change a paper diaper. I believe that she is the finest K teacher in the district. Ryan's been sort of luke warm towards her personally thought. He was initially tested for kindergarten by Mrs. Martin. She used to be a traditional kindergarten teacher but now teaches 4 Vacation morning overlapping Ms. Hankla's afternoon class. She's quite pretty, and I think Ryan got a crush on her from the first. He sometimes tells me he wishes that he came in the morning so he could be in her class. But it has really worked out well having him in the afternoon class. He entertains Ashley in the morning, and in the afternoon while he's in school she and I can take a nap. Also, Debbie and I trade off babysitting in the morning if we have some place to go.
Ryan was released from the Remedial Speech Program a few weeks ago, because the only speech patterns he had difficulty with were sounds that most children could not pronounce well until seven years old, and he was schedulable in them. They were the "R" sounds in rabbit, better, and early. This is surely a miracle, and the opportunity he had to be in this preschool speech program was an answer to prayer. Two and three years ago he was nearly incoherent in his speech, particularly in his consonants, which he omitted or pronounced incorrectly. He has advanced from being severely speech impaired to being only mildly impaired. I am grateful to Debbie Hilton for telling me about the Preschool Speech Program for Ryan and suggesting that I call Mrs. Ramieri for an appointment. Mrs. R. was his teacher the first year, Ms. McQuirk the second, and Ms. Rolls a few weeks of this year before discharging him.
1988
Eric is the best
Eric is one of the best soccer players on his team "Cougars". This is his third year playing and he says that FINALLY they got good uniform colors (mint green and grey). His coach is Bill Barrett, who coached him in T Ball 1 1/2 years ago. Eric always plays Forward or Goalie. He's real aware of the ball and directs the other players and gets right in with it. I think he falls down or gets tripped up more than any other player on the field.
I sure agonized over his teacher and classroom placement this year. At first I wanted him to be in a third or a 2/3 class so that he could really shine as a leader of his peers since he is always the underdog at home. I thought the straight 3rd grade class teacher was too nose to the grindstone for Eric and so I asked for the 2/3 teacher until I heard she played favorites in the class and was not approachable at all on problems. So I asked for the 3/4 teacher, Ms. Rightman. She is a very positive, even(tm)tempered teacher who does lots of fun and creative things with her classes. She gives out sourballs to the kids for rewards sometimes, lets them watch educational movies on Friday, plays math games, loves parent helpers and is very approachable on anything. Eric is very content in her class this year, and never complains about school only the homework, which he says is too much. She used to be a first grade teacher and he used to wish that he had had her then.
Ashley
Ashley came with me today to help at school picture day for the Traditional school kids. She ran around saying peek a boo to the kids and lay her head on my feet. She quite captured the heart of the ladies from Thompson Photography who let her push the flash and sit next to them on the stage for awhile. She loves Debbie Hilton, and always runs up to her and giggles, waiting for Debbie to give her some attention.
Rachel
Rachel has really blossomed these past few months. She is very content in her class under Mrs. Harrison, who doesn't use traditional textbooks and passes out tickets (redeemable for candy on Friday) for good behavior, etc. She has been nominated for Teacher of the Year, and has real copasetic classroom environment. Rachel's been cracking jokes, standing up under pressure better, and more affectionate since being out of Ms. Seidita's class (who was a nose to the grindstone teacher). We make Rachel give us kisses for punishment and she gets tickled regularly and often by her dad. It's helped her loosen up a lot. She's just finished reading the Yellow, Brown, and Green Fairy Tale Books, which were my favorite books when I was her age. I got them from my folk this summer. She wants to read the Blue and Red Fairy Tale books that I think my sister Janna has. I also hope to get for her half of my old Nancy Drew collection from my sister Judy.
Girl Scouts
She's decided to join girl scouts and chorus like her best friend Kim Faulconer. I was shocked. Before this I had to force her to join in different activities but this year she decided to join them on her own. Kim is definitely a good influence. (I have volunteered to be a parent helper with her troop. Her Troop leader is Debbie Adams, a member of the church.) Kim has invited her to the beach for a week with her family to her grandmother's beach house in Ventura. Kent and I have mixed emotions about this since Kim's family is not LDS and we don't know very much about her father. Rachel is the dearest girl in the world to us and we wouldn't trust her care to just anyone.
1988 Chad in 7th grade
Chad started seventh grade at Arroyo Seco Junior High last week. He was both nervous and excited. I bought him some crazy bone shorts and 3 T shirts at Miller's Outpost (on sale). Then we went to Beach Street and he paid a lavender "Sims" shirt and I bought grey "Bones" shirt for him. The first day of school the bus got there late and first period had already started before Chad even had his class schedule. He said it was very confusing. He seems to be doing well, though. He walks to the bus stop with Doug McDermott who used to be his chum in kindergarten/first grade before moving to Alameda for about 5 years. Now his family has moved back to the same house. He's a nice kid and Chad and he do everything together, even walk home from school cross-country. Last Wednesday, Chad invited him to a Court of honor where Chad got his Life rank and three merit badges: cooking, canoeing, and fishing. (Doug is in a different troop).
Paper route
Chad has also been faithfully doing his paper route every day, even with school. I hear him getting up early to check to see if the paper has arrived yet, then going back to sleep on the couch when it's late. He got a little discouraged the other night when someone chewed him out, but now he puts it on the man's doorstep and keeps on trying. I'm impressed with his responsibility and high self esteem. He likes having extra money to spend from the paper route. He bought himself a real nice skateboard with his money and likes to buy himself a drink at school everyday. He still has a little hard time settling down to do his homework in the afternoon and one day was on a real sugar low before dinner because he and Doug ate candy in the afternoon, but overall he's a great kid and I am so proud of his progress and ability. This is also a miracle considering the struggles he's had over the years with his attention deficit disorder.
Appendicitis
A week ago Tuesday (the day after we returned from Mammoth) we thought that he had appendicitis because he was complaining of stomach cramps and had a high fever. We took him to the pediatrician who had him checked by a surgeon too. It turned out to be Strep throat that had swollen the lymph glands in his abdomen. He was on penicillin for ten days, finishing on Friday. Today Sunday the 18th of September he complained of a sore throat and not feeling well again. I took him to First Care right after Stake Conference and he has strep again. He's on stronger medication now.
Tuesday night he dressed in his scout uniform and went with me to introduce scouting to Joshua Legere, who comes from a part member family. I was very proud of the mature way he conducted himself. He went over all of the requirements for joining scouts and told him how scouts got started in America. He did this for his Den Chief Award. Later that night he went to Denny Beitler's to pass off his Fishing Merit Badge. Denny said that Chad was the most prepared of any boy who has come to him over the years.
1988
Eric is one of the best soccer players on his team "Cougars". This is his third year playing and he says that FINALLY they got good uniform colors (mint green and grey). His coach is Bill Barrett, who coached him in T Ball 1 1/2 years ago. Eric always plays Forward or Goalie. He's real aware of the ball and directs the other players and gets right in with it. I think he falls down or gets tripped up more than any other player on the field.
I sure agonized over his teacher and classroom placement this year. At first I wanted him to be in a third or a 2/3 class so that he could really shine as a leader of his peers since he is always the underdog at home. I thought the straight 3rd grade class teacher was too nose to the grindstone for Eric and so I asked for the 2/3 teacher until I heard she played favorites in the class and was not approachable at all on problems. So I asked for the 3/4 teacher, Ms. Rightman. She is a very positive, even(tm)tempered teacher who does lots of fun and creative things with her classes. She gives out sourballs to the kids for rewards sometimes, lets them watch educational movies on Friday, plays math games, loves parent helpers and is very approachable on anything. Eric is very content in her class this year, and never complains about school only the homework, which he says is too much. She used to be a first grade teacher and he used to wish that he had had her then.
Ashley
Ashley came with me today to help at school picture day for the Traditional school kids. She ran around saying peek a boo to the kids and lay her head on my feet. She quite captured the heart of the ladies from Thompson Photography who let her push the flash and sit next to them on the stage for awhile. She loves Debbie Hilton, and always runs up to her and giggles, waiting for Debbie to give her some attention.
Rachel
Rachel has really blossomed these past few months. She is very content in her class under Mrs. Harrison, who doesn't use traditional textbooks and passes out tickets (redeemable for candy on Friday) for good behavior, etc. She has been nominated for Teacher of the Year, and has real copasetic classroom environment. Rachel's been cracking jokes, standing up under pressure better, and more affectionate since being out of Ms. Seidita's class (who was a nose to the grindstone teacher). We make Rachel give us kisses for punishment and she gets tickled regularly and often by her dad. It's helped her loosen up a lot. She's just finished reading the Yellow, Brown, and Green Fairy Tale Books, which were my favorite books when I was her age. I got them from my folk this summer. She wants to read the Blue and Red Fairy Tale books that I think my sister Janna has. I also hope to get for her half of my old Nancy Drew collection from my sister Judy.
Girl Scouts
She's decided to join girl scouts and chorus like her best friend Kim Faulconer. I was shocked. Before this I had to force her to join in different activities but this year she decided to join them on her own. Kim is definitely a good influence. (I have volunteered to be a parent helper with her troop. Her Troop leader is Debbie Adams, a member of the church.) Kim has invited her to the beach for a week with her family to her grandmother's beach house in Ventura. Kent and I have mixed emotions about this since Kim's family is not LDS and we don't know very much about her father. Rachel is the dearest girl in the world to us and we wouldn't trust her care to just anyone.
1988 Chad in 7th grade
Chad started seventh grade at Arroyo Seco Junior High last week. He was both nervous and excited. I bought him some crazy bone shorts and 3 T shirts at Miller's Outpost (on sale). Then we went to Beach Street and he paid a lavender "Sims" shirt and I bought grey "Bones" shirt for him. The first day of school the bus got there late and first period had already started before Chad even had his class schedule. He said it was very confusing. He seems to be doing well, though. He walks to the bus stop with Doug McDermott who used to be his chum in kindergarten/first grade before moving to Alameda for about 5 years. Now his family has moved back to the same house. He's a nice kid and Chad and he do everything together, even walk home from school cross-country. Last Wednesday, Chad invited him to a Court of honor where Chad got his Life rank and three merit badges: cooking, canoeing, and fishing. (Doug is in a different troop).
Paper route
Chad has also been faithfully doing his paper route every day, even with school. I hear him getting up early to check to see if the paper has arrived yet, then going back to sleep on the couch when it's late. He got a little discouraged the other night when someone chewed him out, but now he puts it on the man's doorstep and keeps on trying. I'm impressed with his responsibility and high self esteem. He likes having extra money to spend from the paper route. He bought himself a real nice skateboard with his money and likes to buy himself a drink at school everyday. He still has a little hard time settling down to do his homework in the afternoon and one day was on a real sugar low before dinner because he and Doug ate candy in the afternoon, but overall he's a great kid and I am so proud of his progress and ability. This is also a miracle considering the struggles he's had over the years with his attention deficit disorder.
Appendicitis
A week ago Tuesday (the day after we returned from Mammoth) we thought that he had appendicitis because he was complaining of stomach cramps and had a high fever. We took him to the pediatrician who had him checked by a surgeon too. It turned out to be Strep throat that had swollen the lymph glands in his abdomen. He was on penicillin for ten days, finishing on Friday. Today Sunday the 18th of September he complained of a sore throat and not feeling well again. I took him to First Care right after Stake Conference and he has strep again. He's on stronger medication now.
Tuesday night he dressed in his scout uniform and went with me to introduce scouting to Joshua Legere, who comes from a part member family. I was very proud of the mature way he conducted himself. He went over all of the requirements for joining scouts and told him how scouts got started in America. He did this for his Den Chief Award. Later that night he went to Denny Beitler's to pass off his Fishing Merit Badge. Denny said that Chad was the most prepared of any boy who has come to him over the years.
1988
Proud and Prayer
I feel very pleased about the growth of all of my children this year and their placement in school. I know that all of this is an answer to prayer, and I am grateful. They mean more to me than anything else in this world.
1988
I feel very pleased about the growth of all of my children this year and their placement in school. I know that all of this is an answer to prayer, and I am grateful. They mean more to me than anything else in this world.
1988
VP of the PTA
Last Spring I was nominated and elected to be the 1st V. Pres. of the PTA at Rosedale, with Debbie Hilton as President. I knew it would be a good learning experience and I hoped it would give me clout when I requested that my children stay at Rosedale another year instead of going to Highlands where they belong.
Each year I thought it would be our last year at Rosedale and that we would be moving on by moving to a larger house but it never seemed to happen. And so I would try to figure out how to stay there one more year. I hated to see the children switch to Highlands and then have to adjust to a new school after we moved.
I was really shocked when I got notice to report at Highlands on July 18 to register the kids. I tried to be optimistic about it but the kids were really upset. I wrote a letter to the Superintendent requesting a reconsideration based on the "emotional and psychological damage" such a move would be to my children, and asked my dad to write a letter as a family physician verifying this. I also did mention that I was the first VP of the PTA and asked a few key school personnel and PTA members to write letters of support in my behalf. The new principal, Mr. Dixon, also put in a call for me, and on July 18 I got a call from Dr. Helmers saying we could stay one more year because of the medical reason only. Boy, was Rachel happy. I tried to encourage the kids to pray that the Lord would bless them to be able to go to school wherever was best, but she only prayed "bless us that we'll be able to go to Rosedale". She had answered the phone when Dr. Helmers first called and she told him I "was teaching Backyard Swim lessons for Rosedale". I called him back when she was at her swim lessons to find out the answer; so, when Kent went to pick her up he pretended that we got kicked out and had to go to Highlands, and pointed out all the good that would come from making new friends etc. Then when he confessed the truth, she was absolutely ecstatic with joy. Her best friend Kim Faulconer goes to Rosedale.
I thought that I would be much busier in the PTA than I am, but working with Debbie Hilton is a piece of cake because she does most of the work (which is fine with me). Before Mr. Moloznik (principal for last two years) left Rosedale, he called me into his office and said that he wished that he had nominated me for President because I have a much better way with people and he hoped that I would play a real strong roll in the new PTA board during the coming year. I know that I would do things differently than Debbie I would delegate more, involve more people, be more democratic, and do less. But I certainly wouldn't work any harder, and would probably accomplish less. With all of the things happening in my life, I am more than happy to let Debbie be the heavy while I go around and be nice to everyone and soothe any ruffled feathers.
A Perfectionist
Debbie does come across a little strong sometimes. She's a type A perfectionist with not a lot of finesse in front of a group. I'm just the opposite, so we compliment each other well. I felt so sorry for her this past week, though, when the past PTA president and Laura LeBlanc, who ran for President against Debbie and lost(tm) went gunning for Debbie at the first PTA association meeting. They kept brandishing "PTA bylaws" against her, and she broke down afterwards. So next week, she and I are meeting with the state PTA president to go over the bylaws with her, and then at the next PTA board meeting I will probably go over them with everyone as a "Leadership Spotlight". I have no ambitious desires for the Future I only want to learn and serve my community. If I help Debbie to be more effective, promote a feeling of unity and good will among the board members and community, set a good example for the church, and learn how to work in the PTA myself (tm)I've accomplished my goals.
Between scouts, PTA, the family, foreclosures, and now girl scouts, I barely have time for myself, let alone family records, which I really need to do.
1988
Last Spring I was nominated and elected to be the 1st V. Pres. of the PTA at Rosedale, with Debbie Hilton as President. I knew it would be a good learning experience and I hoped it would give me clout when I requested that my children stay at Rosedale another year instead of going to Highlands where they belong.
Each year I thought it would be our last year at Rosedale and that we would be moving on by moving to a larger house but it never seemed to happen. And so I would try to figure out how to stay there one more year. I hated to see the children switch to Highlands and then have to adjust to a new school after we moved.
I was really shocked when I got notice to report at Highlands on July 18 to register the kids. I tried to be optimistic about it but the kids were really upset. I wrote a letter to the Superintendent requesting a reconsideration based on the "emotional and psychological damage" such a move would be to my children, and asked my dad to write a letter as a family physician verifying this. I also did mention that I was the first VP of the PTA and asked a few key school personnel and PTA members to write letters of support in my behalf. The new principal, Mr. Dixon, also put in a call for me, and on July 18 I got a call from Dr. Helmers saying we could stay one more year because of the medical reason only. Boy, was Rachel happy. I tried to encourage the kids to pray that the Lord would bless them to be able to go to school wherever was best, but she only prayed "bless us that we'll be able to go to Rosedale". She had answered the phone when Dr. Helmers first called and she told him I "was teaching Backyard Swim lessons for Rosedale". I called him back when she was at her swim lessons to find out the answer; so, when Kent went to pick her up he pretended that we got kicked out and had to go to Highlands, and pointed out all the good that would come from making new friends etc. Then when he confessed the truth, she was absolutely ecstatic with joy. Her best friend Kim Faulconer goes to Rosedale.
I thought that I would be much busier in the PTA than I am, but working with Debbie Hilton is a piece of cake because she does most of the work (which is fine with me). Before Mr. Moloznik (principal for last two years) left Rosedale, he called me into his office and said that he wished that he had nominated me for President because I have a much better way with people and he hoped that I would play a real strong roll in the new PTA board during the coming year. I know that I would do things differently than Debbie I would delegate more, involve more people, be more democratic, and do less. But I certainly wouldn't work any harder, and would probably accomplish less. With all of the things happening in my life, I am more than happy to let Debbie be the heavy while I go around and be nice to everyone and soothe any ruffled feathers.
A Perfectionist
Debbie does come across a little strong sometimes. She's a type A perfectionist with not a lot of finesse in front of a group. I'm just the opposite, so we compliment each other well. I felt so sorry for her this past week, though, when the past PTA president and Laura LeBlanc, who ran for President against Debbie and lost(tm) went gunning for Debbie at the first PTA association meeting. They kept brandishing "PTA bylaws" against her, and she broke down afterwards. So next week, she and I are meeting with the state PTA president to go over the bylaws with her, and then at the next PTA board meeting I will probably go over them with everyone as a "Leadership Spotlight". I have no ambitious desires for the Future I only want to learn and serve my community. If I help Debbie to be more effective, promote a feeling of unity and good will among the board members and community, set a good example for the church, and learn how to work in the PTA myself (tm)I've accomplished my goals.
Between scouts, PTA, the family, foreclosures, and now girl scouts, I barely have time for myself, let alone family records, which I really need to do.
1988
Scoutmaster
This Summer Kent was approached on being the Scoutmaster in the ward. He said he would on condition that they get a Deacon's quorum adviser who would support the troop and serve as assistant scoutmaster (since scouting is really supposed to be directed by the Aaronic Priesthood leadership in the ward) and that I serve as Troop Chairman to help him out. The former Deacon's Quorum Advisor had his son in another troop and never came to any events and not even Deacon's quorum every week. They finally called Kerry Davis who is a great guy whose son is a deacon/scout. Kerry doesn't know anything about scouts, but he is willing to learn.
And they put me in as Troop chairman. Just the paperwork alone on this job is a killer. I finally decided at Blazer Day Camp last Saturday (feeling sick at the contemplation of eating roasted hot dogs for lunch) that I couldn't do that too, and so with mixed emotions I called the Bishopric that night to be released. I've enjoyed that calling a lot but I need to help Kent and the ward troop.
Our goals are to get a good troop committee going so that when we move next summer, they can carry on without us. We've been holding the meetings at the parents' homes and asking them to volunteer for outings, job assignments, etc. One of our best families is the Mechems, who are not LDS, but Catholic. The stepfather Will is a wonderful man and I may ask him to be the advancement chairman. I'd also like to give him a Book of Mormon this Christmas.
1988
This Summer Kent was approached on being the Scoutmaster in the ward. He said he would on condition that they get a Deacon's quorum adviser who would support the troop and serve as assistant scoutmaster (since scouting is really supposed to be directed by the Aaronic Priesthood leadership in the ward) and that I serve as Troop Chairman to help him out. The former Deacon's Quorum Advisor had his son in another troop and never came to any events and not even Deacon's quorum every week. They finally called Kerry Davis who is a great guy whose son is a deacon/scout. Kerry doesn't know anything about scouts, but he is willing to learn.
And they put me in as Troop chairman. Just the paperwork alone on this job is a killer. I finally decided at Blazer Day Camp last Saturday (feeling sick at the contemplation of eating roasted hot dogs for lunch) that I couldn't do that too, and so with mixed emotions I called the Bishopric that night to be released. I've enjoyed that calling a lot but I need to help Kent and the ward troop.
Our goals are to get a good troop committee going so that when we move next summer, they can carry on without us. We've been holding the meetings at the parents' homes and asking them to volunteer for outings, job assignments, etc. One of our best families is the Mechems, who are not LDS, but Catholic. The stepfather Will is a wonderful man and I may ask him to be the advancement chairman. I'd also like to give him a Book of Mormon this Christmas.
1988
Marvelous Job
Kent is doing a marvelous job as scoutmaster. He was so discouraged last year as Varsity Coach with such tough boys and no support from the ward or stake priesthood leaders. But then he became my Co Blazer leader and saw how fun and easy it could be. I took him to a church Scout Leadership meeting with John Warnick who explained the relationship between scouting and the priesthood and made him go to a scout training workshop and his perspective began to change. He seems to need my support and encouragement in his work and callings, that's why he insisted that I be the Troop chairman with him.
He's a little bummed out right now though, particularly with one boy Chris Harrison who comes from a troubled family and has been defying him and not being truthful to his mother about it. Something like that takes all of the joy out of service.
1988
Kent is doing a marvelous job as scoutmaster. He was so discouraged last year as Varsity Coach with such tough boys and no support from the ward or stake priesthood leaders. But then he became my Co Blazer leader and saw how fun and easy it could be. I took him to a church Scout Leadership meeting with John Warnick who explained the relationship between scouting and the priesthood and made him go to a scout training workshop and his perspective began to change. He seems to need my support and encouragement in his work and callings, that's why he insisted that I be the Troop chairman with him.
He's a little bummed out right now though, particularly with one boy Chris Harrison who comes from a troubled family and has been defying him and not being truthful to his mother about it. Something like that takes all of the joy out of service.
1988
Pregnant with Brett
Last week I found out for certain that I am pregnant with #6. I have always wanted six children, and in fact I chose my wedding band with six little diamonds around it for the six children I wanted to have. And I wanted to have this sixth child before I hit 34 1/2 next August when the chances for a Down syndrome child go up. If my calculations are right, this baby is due in May the supposed completion date for our next house in Stevenson Ranch. It seems that every third child I have I move into a new home about the same time (I had Eric 5 days after moving into this home. I think it's time to stop having children!) Actually May will be a good time for me it will be after the school fundraisers that I am in charge of and before the summer break so that I can still rest while the children are in school. I figure that I got pregnant the night Kent got home from Boy Scout Camp at Camp Whitsett, so I suppose that it would be appropriate if this was a little boy (Sean Robert?)
1988
Last week I found out for certain that I am pregnant with #6. I have always wanted six children, and in fact I chose my wedding band with six little diamonds around it for the six children I wanted to have. And I wanted to have this sixth child before I hit 34 1/2 next August when the chances for a Down syndrome child go up. If my calculations are right, this baby is due in May the supposed completion date for our next house in Stevenson Ranch. It seems that every third child I have I move into a new home about the same time (I had Eric 5 days after moving into this home. I think it's time to stop having children!) Actually May will be a good time for me it will be after the school fundraisers that I am in charge of and before the summer break so that I can still rest while the children are in school. I figure that I got pregnant the night Kent got home from Boy Scout Camp at Camp Whitsett, so I suppose that it would be appropriate if this was a little boy (Sean Robert?)
1988
Pinworms
Another thing that happened after scout camp that was not so pleasant was that Chad got pinworms. Everyone in the family was supposed to take some "Vermox" (a very toxic substance that kills the pinworms), in case we had got it too. I didn't take any because I knew that we had been trying for a baby and I suspected that it would be harmful. Dr. Rodriguez confirmed that it would have killed the fetus if I had taken it.
Health concerns
I want to have a healthy whole child, but I am also a little concerned about my own health too. I got an ulcer last year with all of our financial problems and from the moment that I found out that I was pregnant, I've had a dull sick feeling in my abdomen and stomach ever since. I also discovered a breast lump in my left breast last April. It appears to be benign (after a mammogram and talk with the radiologist and Dr. Rodriguez) but I am a little concerned about it. I am also concerned about who should deliver this child. I would prefer my dad to deliver this last one, since he's delivered all of my other children. But he hasn't delivered any babies since Ashley and he's so far away. Dr. Rodriguez is the closest Pru Net doctor and seems nice, but he doesn't have a very good medical reputation among some nurses that I've talked to. So, I'm not sure what I'm going to do.
1988
Another thing that happened after scout camp that was not so pleasant was that Chad got pinworms. Everyone in the family was supposed to take some "Vermox" (a very toxic substance that kills the pinworms), in case we had got it too. I didn't take any because I knew that we had been trying for a baby and I suspected that it would be harmful. Dr. Rodriguez confirmed that it would have killed the fetus if I had taken it.
Health concerns
I want to have a healthy whole child, but I am also a little concerned about my own health too. I got an ulcer last year with all of our financial problems and from the moment that I found out that I was pregnant, I've had a dull sick feeling in my abdomen and stomach ever since. I also discovered a breast lump in my left breast last April. It appears to be benign (after a mammogram and talk with the radiologist and Dr. Rodriguez) but I am a little concerned about it. I am also concerned about who should deliver this child. I would prefer my dad to deliver this last one, since he's delivered all of my other children. But he hasn't delivered any babies since Ashley and he's so far away. Dr. Rodriguez is the closest Pru Net doctor and seems nice, but he doesn't have a very good medical reputation among some nurses that I've talked to. So, I'm not sure what I'm going to do.
1988
Prayer roll
I put my name and "baby Gardiner" on the prayer roll at the temple this morning 9/17/88 after the 6:00am Tonganese session. I had a very spiritual experience at the veil over the name of the second token of the Melchizedek Priesthood. I wept so that I could hardly repeat it and the two people assisting me felt the spirit as well. The sister hugged me and the brother said "God bless you". I think that there is no greater blessing in all the world than the gift of Eternal Lives.
I asked Kent to give me a blessing at the beginning of this pregnancy mainly because I was a little concerned about my own health. I think that it was Brother Mefford who assisted. I remember Kent saying that the Lord was pleased with my desire to have children. He also admonished me to study the scriptures to find answers and know the Lord's will. I kept waiting to hear a blessing of health and strength, but it was not given.
1988
I put my name and "baby Gardiner" on the prayer roll at the temple this morning 9/17/88 after the 6:00am Tonganese session. I had a very spiritual experience at the veil over the name of the second token of the Melchizedek Priesthood. I wept so that I could hardly repeat it and the two people assisting me felt the spirit as well. The sister hugged me and the brother said "God bless you". I think that there is no greater blessing in all the world than the gift of Eternal Lives.
I asked Kent to give me a blessing at the beginning of this pregnancy mainly because I was a little concerned about my own health. I think that it was Brother Mefford who assisted. I remember Kent saying that the Lord was pleased with my desire to have children. He also admonished me to study the scriptures to find answers and know the Lord's will. I kept waiting to hear a blessing of health and strength, but it was not given.
1988
Special Experience
Something interesting happened before I got pregnant with this baby.....I felt an urgency to conceive this child soon not to put it off any longer. But in June after putting my diaphragm away, I felt no desire for sex and was fearful of conceiving. I felt that there must be something to do with my breast lump that I must check out. We had been so emotionally consumed with Lance closing escrow and his lawsuit that I hadn't really followed up on this. So in July I talked to Dr. Rodriguez by phone, and he again assured me that everything was most likely just fine and not to worry. I went by his office and obtained a copy of my mammogram report. The radiologist's report stated that the lump was probably benign, but recommended a follow up study in six months. I talked to my dad about it and he suggested that I wait before getting pregnant until after the six month follow up. But I did not feel that I had that much time to wait.
So I got on my knees and prayed to heavenly father. I told him that I wanted to have another child and felt that there was one that I was supposed to have, but that I was concerned about my health. The doctor did not seem to think that it was anything serious, and yet in my heart, I suspected that there might be something. I was afraid that if I waited to have it checked out more thoroughly, that I might not ever have this child, and so I asked for his protection. I asked him to preserve my life, and if this was pleasing to him if he had a special child that he wanted to send to our family would he bless me with the desire and ability to conceive immediately. Otherwise, would he please take away this desire and ability.....I conceived my very next cycle. I was gratified to know in my priesthood blessing that he was pleased with my desire to have children. It is something special to know that the Lord is pleased with you.
Last year was the most trying year of our lives with no money and escrows not closing.
1988
RyanSomething interesting happened before I got pregnant with this baby.....I felt an urgency to conceive this child soon not to put it off any longer. But in June after putting my diaphragm away, I felt no desire for sex and was fearful of conceiving. I felt that there must be something to do with my breast lump that I must check out. We had been so emotionally consumed with Lance closing escrow and his lawsuit that I hadn't really followed up on this. So in July I talked to Dr. Rodriguez by phone, and he again assured me that everything was most likely just fine and not to worry. I went by his office and obtained a copy of my mammogram report. The radiologist's report stated that the lump was probably benign, but recommended a follow up study in six months. I talked to my dad about it and he suggested that I wait before getting pregnant until after the six month follow up. But I did not feel that I had that much time to wait.
So I got on my knees and prayed to heavenly father. I told him that I wanted to have another child and felt that there was one that I was supposed to have, but that I was concerned about my health. The doctor did not seem to think that it was anything serious, and yet in my heart, I suspected that there might be something. I was afraid that if I waited to have it checked out more thoroughly, that I might not ever have this child, and so I asked for his protection. I asked him to preserve my life, and if this was pleasing to him if he had a special child that he wanted to send to our family would he bless me with the desire and ability to conceive immediately. Otherwise, would he please take away this desire and ability.....I conceived my very next cycle. I was gratified to know in my priesthood blessing that he was pleased with my desire to have children. It is something special to know that the Lord is pleased with you.
Last year was the most trying year of our lives with no money and escrows not closing.
1988
Ryan jumped on the exercise trampoline while the sprinklers were going. He certainly has a lot of energy and a very loud voice these days. And he asks a million questions. His friend Matthew McGuire moved to a new house across the street in the end of a cull de sac. It is the Harmon's old house and has a spa. He still loves popsicles, gum, playing in the dirt on the side of the house, and riding bikes and hot wheels around. In the back on the porch and sidewalk along the side of the house the children drew "Stop" signs and traffic lines and they like to ride the bikes and hot wheels around. Ryan likes to play the policeman. He and Ashley and his little friends also love the play house. They climb up there to eat and play and stack the grey milk crates around.
1988
Ashley’s Prayers
When it is time for prayers, Ashley says "Hey guys, how 'bout I say pwayers!" and then she mimics very sweetly everything you say until she hears you say the name "Jesus", and then she announces "Amen!" and that's that. Her life still revolves around the TV, the other children, "Bink o' milk, PWEASE!" and going poo poo. She loves to ride a little Big Bird hot wheels that we got at a garage sale. She can count up to ten perfectly and gives a good try at the ABC's.
Birthday party
Elaine’s Birthday
Today I called my dad and stepmother Elaine to talk about plans for a birthday party for my grandmother next weekend. During the week I'd talked to all my brothers and sisters and had tried to get things planned out including for Thanksgiving and Christmas, when my older sister and family were coming in. I told Elaine we'd try and send her home for Thanksgiving to be with her grandchildren and she got very defensive. She said she could speak up for herself and that she and my dad would decide together what they would do and no one was sending her anywhere. I felt very badly about it afterwards. I surely didn't mean to offend I was only trying to be helpful. My family is so indecisive it's herculean to get them pinned down to anything. If you don't speak up about certain things nothing happens. But I'll have to try and be more tactful in the future and let her learn and fumble for herself.
I've been feeling very punk these last few days. I rallied just enough with the Lord's help to go over the PTA by laws and some human relation skills with the PTA board on Tuesday night. Debbie Hilton, the PTA president has been getting a lot of criticism from the former PTA president and someone who opposed her in the elections last March. They publicly embarrassed her at the PTA association meeting, questioning her right to lead on several points of "by laws". So she and I met with the California State PTA president and her Vice President over leadership at Marie Callendars to go over the by laws and other questions about governing. Debbie wanted to set the record straight at the next board meeting and so I suggested that I do it as a "leadership spotlight" in a low key sort of way, taking the pressure off Debbie, and they all liked that idea.
6 Blind Men
Tuesday night I opened with the poem by John Saxe about the 6 blind men and the Elephant, who each examined different parts of the elephant and argued about what it really was, and said that the elephant in this case was PTA and that while I didn't have all the answers, we would try to examine "the elephant" all together. Then we went through most of the by laws together, I clarified and corrected many formerly disputed items, and pointed that many of the problems that our present board struggled with were conditions inherited by us from the previous board, and that certain changes needed to take place so that next year's board would not be so handicapped. I closed with explaining that there was a difference between rules of governing and style of governing, which was determined by the personalities of the leaders. I said that we needed to treat each other with courtesy and respect, the way we would want to be treated. To go to someone in private if there was a disagreement rather than embarrassing them publicly or talking about them behind their back. And that even though we wouldn't do things the same as another, we needed to be tolerant of differences when working towards the common goals of what's best for the school and our children. I concluded with Aesop's Fable about the dying father who wanted to teach his sons unity regarding the governing of his estate. He gave each of them a stick to break which they did quite easily. Next he gave each of them a bundle of sticks and challenged them again. They could not break the bundle. Likewise, if we are divided we will break, if we are united, we will withstand anything.
Sue Harrison, the teacher rep and assistant principal said that she thought I had handled things in just the right positive, upbeat manner. But I was a little worried about the former president, who is now the parliamentarian being offended. At the end of the meeting she started to boss Debbie around again, telling her she had to do this or that, but the next morning she called Debbie up and said she was going to resign because she felt the others were critical of her actions when it became clear that she had not done everything right when she was president. Debbie then called me up and said she felt she should resign but fortunately I talked her out of it. I most certainly don't want her to resign because then ÓIÔ would be president, and I certainly don't want that headache. I feel that it is my job just to help Debbie make it through this year.