Will is taking psychology this semester. The teacher set a term project for the students to do 5 hours of community service. Only two hours have to be physically at some location. The rest can be accomplished through writing letters to senators, showing her a voter registration card (if the student is over 18) and other such things. Will really hates writing stuff, however, and he's only 17, so he decided to do all 5 hours in physical service. We signed up to volunteer at the Food Bank.
Yes, we. It's not very fun to volunteer alone, and I wanted to volunteer, too.
I've never been to the Food Bank before. I've donated canned goods often enough. Every Scouting food drive, mail carrier food drive, school food drive, and any other food drive that comes our way, we usually pull some cans out of the pantry and send them on their way. For the first time, on New Year's Eve, I saw where they all go.
It is a run down building near the end of the FrontRunner line. Down by the train tracks, in other words. In a dodgy part of Provo. It's a warehouse in severe need of fumigating. I spent most of my time stocking shelves in the "pantry"/store where people in need are sent through with helpers to insure they only take what they need. They have to have visited a case worker, first, then they are sent through with a pallet cart and specific instructions to take X # of cans of soup, Y # of cans of vegetables, and Z # of cans of fruit, and so on. The numbers were based on the number of people living in the family. My job was to keep the shelves stocked so people could make their selections.
The canned foods had been sorted into bins in the back of the warehouse. Many/most of the cans were dented in some way. You know how you always leave the dented cans on the grocery store shelves when you are shopping? Most of those cans end up at the food bank. Some of them burst and spill their contents all over everything else in the bin. Yuck. That leads to the problem with mice.
The shelves I was stocking had mouse dropping on them! Ugh!!! I wanted to bleach wash them SO BADLY! These poor people! I desperately hope they sanitize the cans BEFORE opening them! Who knows what kinds of viruses are being passed to some of the most vulnerable people in our society.
Honestly, I'm not blaming the people who run the Food Bank. They are understaffed and underfunded. They are at the mercy of volunteers and there are never enough. I want to go back so badly and bring a bunch a bleach wipes with me...
...but I dread going back because I had the worst allergic reaction I've had in years! My eyes burned and were all swollen and puffy by the end of the day. I also came home with several flea bites.
The people we helped were a mixed bunch. Some were elderly and mentally struggling. Some were new to the system and seemed almost apologetic. There were several who didn't speak English. Those who spoke Spanish could get a translator, but there were a couple of people who looked Asian, and no one could really help translate for them. We didn't know if they spoke Chinese, Korean, or Vietnamese. Lots of pointing and holding up fingers to indicate numbers, mostly got them through the store.
I remember one young woman. She was VERY pregnant. When she got to the soup shelves, she noticed there were no Spaghetios. She asked me if there were any in the back. I told her 'I'm sorry' and that there had been no Spaghetios all day. She frowned and pouted that she just would have to skip the soup shelves, then, since her kids wouldn't eat anything else in that section.
?!?
Oh. My. Gosh. If I had to rely on the Food Bank to feed my children I would make sure to take EVERY BIT OF FOOD I was allowed and my kids would EAT IT! You don't like chicken noodle soup, kidlets? Tough cookies! Eat and be glad you have food! Oi.
Some of the things I put on the shelves disappeared instantly because they were so rare. Like Miracle Whip, mustard, or chocolate syrup. Other things are just staples and whole shelves had to be restocked several times over the course of the day, like green beans. Peanut butter was another fast moving food item.
Will helped with stocking the dry goods. Stores donate day old bread to the food bank, and that is sent on to families as quickly as possible.
The guy in charge told me that just before Christmas, an anonymous family donated a thousand stuffed stockings to the Food Bank to hand out to families with children.
I was so glad to have the opportunity to serve and I am shamed that it took my son's school assignment for me to do so. We spent two hours, went to lunch, then spent three hours more. The time went by really quickly and when I got home I was BUSHED! (and grossed out, and allergically puffy...)
I need to go again.
With bleach.
The Workout Schedule
I have set stuff I like to do. I like to swim. I like to run. I like to ride my bike. Triathlon stuff.
So, I'll revisit my old triathlon type training and see where that takes me.
I think this year I'll make Saturday and Sunday my rest days. At least until summer vacation. That will give me the time I need to get weekend chores done and spend time with the family, I hope.
So, I'm splitting my workouts into two categories; MWF and TTh.
MWF will be running training and weights/core work. My running goal for the next 10 weeks is to speed up on my 5K. I average 31 minutes with a best time of 28 minutes. In 10 weeks I want 28 minutes to be the new average time for the 5K distance. We'll see what my new best time will become! I have an app called 5K Forever that I will be working with to try and meet this goal. The app is designed specifically to help 5K runners improve their time, so I'm excited to give it a go! Today was my first day using the app and it went well.
Core work means situps, pushups, squats, lunges, and planks. My 10 week end goal is 200 situps, 100 pushups, 100 squats, 200 lunges, and 120 second planks. Weights will be just maintenance stuff on my arms.
TTh workouts will be cycle class and swimming. The swimming is iffy, because TTh are long lanes, which means less available lanes (short lanes can be up to 8 lanes, long lanes are at max of 5). With the Resolutioners in the gym, I might not get a lane for a little while, but I'll do my best. I haven't created specific goals for cycle and swim. Just to do them and push myself each day. Work on form and endurance, mostly.
Resolutioners! It's that time of year, again. Today was great. There was no crowd, yet. I expect the crowds will hit just after the annual pass sale and fitness fair next week. Ugh. They all sign up, plunk down their money for an annual pass, crowd out the regulars for two months, then disappear. Most equipment breakage happens during this time because they also bring along their kids, who abuse the equipment.
I'm really not against New Year's Resolutions! I just really believe in only making goals I intend to achieve. Why would you spend the money and not follow through? Why give up after only a few weeks? Why do there have to be so many of them that I can't get my workouts done? The gym oversells knowing many will quit. So in January and February the facility is really over capacity.
Still, some of them end up turning into regulars, and in that case, they are very welcome! For now, I'll have to show up early to cycle class in order to get my preferred bike, and I might have to get creative with my running workouts if all the treadmills are taken.
So, I'll revisit my old triathlon type training and see where that takes me.
I think this year I'll make Saturday and Sunday my rest days. At least until summer vacation. That will give me the time I need to get weekend chores done and spend time with the family, I hope.
So, I'm splitting my workouts into two categories; MWF and TTh.
MWF will be running training and weights/core work. My running goal for the next 10 weeks is to speed up on my 5K. I average 31 minutes with a best time of 28 minutes. In 10 weeks I want 28 minutes to be the new average time for the 5K distance. We'll see what my new best time will become! I have an app called 5K Forever that I will be working with to try and meet this goal. The app is designed specifically to help 5K runners improve their time, so I'm excited to give it a go! Today was my first day using the app and it went well.
Core work means situps, pushups, squats, lunges, and planks. My 10 week end goal is 200 situps, 100 pushups, 100 squats, 200 lunges, and 120 second planks. Weights will be just maintenance stuff on my arms.
TTh workouts will be cycle class and swimming. The swimming is iffy, because TTh are long lanes, which means less available lanes (short lanes can be up to 8 lanes, long lanes are at max of 5). With the Resolutioners in the gym, I might not get a lane for a little while, but I'll do my best. I haven't created specific goals for cycle and swim. Just to do them and push myself each day. Work on form and endurance, mostly.
Resolutioners! It's that time of year, again. Today was great. There was no crowd, yet. I expect the crowds will hit just after the annual pass sale and fitness fair next week. Ugh. They all sign up, plunk down their money for an annual pass, crowd out the regulars for two months, then disappear. Most equipment breakage happens during this time because they also bring along their kids, who abuse the equipment.
I'm really not against New Year's Resolutions! I just really believe in only making goals I intend to achieve. Why would you spend the money and not follow through? Why give up after only a few weeks? Why do there have to be so many of them that I can't get my workouts done? The gym oversells knowing many will quit. So in January and February the facility is really over capacity.
Still, some of them end up turning into regulars, and in that case, they are very welcome! For now, I'll have to show up early to cycle class in order to get my preferred bike, and I might have to get creative with my running workouts if all the treadmills are taken.
2014
Hello there.
Bet you thought I'd forgotten my little online journal.
Nope.
I've just gotten way too distracted by life.
But, I'm here, now. And I'm gonna try to stay with it.
It's a time for new resolutions, after all!
That's right! WELCOME TO 2014 AND THE NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION POST!
I'm a goal setting kind of person. I don't get too bent out of shape if I fail to reach them all... I just like to set them and see how far it takes me. So, here goes!
Last Sunday, the bishop mentioned some advice he'd been giving on setting goals. He called them goals, not resolutions, because you really should be constantly assessing, adjusting, and setting goals. It is not just a New Year thing. Anyways, he said the advice was to set 3 health goals for yourself... one for physical health, one for mental health, and one for spiritual health. That sounds like a great idea.
Of course, I have a boatload of PHYSICAL HEALTH goals I'd like to tackle.
For instance, I want to;
Bet you thought I'd forgotten my little online journal.
Nope.
I've just gotten way too distracted by life.
But, I'm here, now. And I'm gonna try to stay with it.
It's a time for new resolutions, after all!
That's right! WELCOME TO 2014 AND THE NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION POST!
I'm a goal setting kind of person. I don't get too bent out of shape if I fail to reach them all... I just like to set them and see how far it takes me. So, here goes!
Last Sunday, the bishop mentioned some advice he'd been giving on setting goals. He called them goals, not resolutions, because you really should be constantly assessing, adjusting, and setting goals. It is not just a New Year thing. Anyways, he said the advice was to set 3 health goals for yourself... one for physical health, one for mental health, and one for spiritual health. That sounds like a great idea.
Of course, I have a boatload of PHYSICAL HEALTH goals I'd like to tackle.
For instance, I want to;
- Get to bed 'early' every night. 'Early' means 10-10:30 nightly (as I type this at 11:30 pm). The problem with that is that I still have a wandering teen in the house to wait up for on occasion. And, lets face it, I'm a night owl and have to force myself to bed most nights. Grrrr. Instead, I want to set a goal to try for 8 HOURS OF SLEEP per night. I think I can manage that, most of the time.
- Get up at 6 am every school day to MAKE BREAKFAST FOR WILL. That one is more for Will's physical/mental health than for mine. I know. I'm a horrible mother! Most mornings he rolls out of bed at 7:20 am and leaves for school at 7:30... with no breakfast. I've never been one of those "let me feed you all the meals" kind of people. Still, I'm gonna try! That means I will have to strive for that 10 pm bedtime on school nights if I'm gonna make that first goal.
- BUILD A NEW WORKOUT SCHEDULE AND STICK TO IT. I've fallen off the workout wagon, somewhat. And by fallen off, I mean I'm still holding on to the wagon and am being dragged in the dirt behind it. I've struggled all through the holidays. I'm making it to about 1/2 of my scheduled workouts each week. I know I can do better. I know I will feel better if I do better. So, I will.
- BREAK THE STUPID SODA HABIT! Here's another wagon I fell off of, people. Gah! Stupid, stupid soda! Why does sugar have to taste so good?! I feel like this is my Achilles heel. My willpower battle royale. So, I will keep up the fight and try again.
- GO TO THE DOCTOR and have the various things taken care of that need attention. Vericose veins & moles. I met my deductible this year, so I might as well take care of stuff. ya know?
MENTAL HEALTH Goals
- DE-CLUTTER. I want to pick one room each month and get rid of as much as I possibly can. Clear out the accumulation of 13-14 years of living in one place. You know what I mean. Things can pile up over time. Papers and books and nick-nacks. Picture frames I meant to paint all black, fill with pictures, and hang on the wall; but are instead all piled in a corner of the dining room gathering dust. The puzzle that was built and mod-podged, but is waiting on top of the dryer for me to find a 22"x24" (or was it x28"?) frame so I can hang it on the wall. All those random bits and pieces of living that need a proper home, or just simply need to go away permanently. How is that mental health, you ask? A cluttered home = a cluttered mind. I think I could focus better with a more spartan house.
- KEEP UP WITH ROSETTA STONE. I have been working on learning Spanish with Rosetta Stone. I work at a Spanish Immersion elementary school, and the administration has provided Rosetta Stone for all the teachers and students to use. Really such a great resource! I could have chosen any language to work on, and I was tempted to brush up my French. But, I want to learn Spanish, for work. Learning a language should keep my mind sharp, especially since it sometimes feels like some of the gears are starting to slip from time to time.
- KEEP UP WITH MY BLOG. This is my journal. I need a place to crystalize my thoughts, and this is that place. It is such a shame that so many good thoughts got lost over the months that I neglected to write. I focus my writing on the positive events in my life, and it helps ME to stay positive. Otherwise, I might let the negative creep in and get too much of a foothold in my life. Keep your sharing POSITIVE! Whether in a blog, or on Facebook, only record the positive. You get back what you send out, so be careful what you send out there!
SPIRITUAL HEALTH Goals
- RENEW MY TEMPLE RECOMMEND. I haven't held a current recommend in years. I don't really have a good reason. Just laziness. I'm a slacker. I need to rededicate myself and get back to the temple. I'm looking forward to some Celestial Room meditations.
- PRAYERS/SCRIPTURES EVERY MORNING. That's gonna be part of the getting up at 6 am gig. I'm shooting for a morning something like this: 15 min. me time (potty, stretching), 15 min. prayer/scriptures, 30 min. breakfast prep., have breakfast with Will (& hopefully Helena), send Will out the door at 7:30, get myself ready for work & out the door around 8:15.
So, there you have it. I'm not good at the one goal per section kind of thing. Still, I like my goals and I'm looking forward to implementing them. Tomorrow I think I'll build that workout schedule!
If you are setting goals this week, I wish you all the best in achieving them! I'm no cynic about New Year's Resolutions... I've accomplished many of mine over the years, so I know they are worthwhile endeavors.
So, set your goals and chase 'em down!
Cheers to a bright 2014!
Back
My back has been hurting. It hasn't been agonizing, most of the time. Mostly it has been a dull ache that drives me nuts. It has been hurting ever since I got rear ended TWO YEARS AGO. Most days I could ignore it. I'd take Naproxen and forget about it. I didn't realize how much I was leaning on the Naproxen Sodium until this fall, when I started taking more and more of it, with no results. Then we ran out at about the same time that I was taking dangerously high doses just to manage my afternoons. By September of this fall, it got bad enough for me to break down and go back to a doctor about it.
I'm not a doctor kind of person. I'd just as soon deal with it myself. But, when I started gasping in surprised pain in the middle of teaching lessons at school I realized I really had to do something about it. Students wanted to know what's wrong.
So frustrating!
The Doc listened, noted that I can still move about and touch my toes, and sent me to the Physical Therapist.
As you know, I've been very active these past two years. I run, bike, kayak, and swim. But the biking has slowly been sidelined. Biking never really happened this summer. The one time I went with Bill was just too agonizing to repeat. Kayaking never happened this summer, either. Running was a delicate balance of training carefully and pain killers. Running slowly petered out, too, until I had to give myself a serious pep talk just to do a 5K on a treadmill. Swimming, however, stayed GOLDEN! It is the perfect injured person workout! Every doc I've seen has encouraged me to keep up with the swimming, since there is little chance of pain or injury aggravation with it.
Anyways, I went off to pt for a month, shelling out copay after copay. It's hard to fit an extra $60/week into the budget, especially when it didn't seem to be helping. Talk about stress.
So, after a month of pt with no results, the Doc finally ordered an MRI.
Those suckers are expensive! We'll have to pay a large chunk of it, but then my deductible will be met for the year. Again, not in the budget. Christmas will be homemade this year since our holiday budget has been shot by this.
To make a long story short, I got a call back from the doc after the MRI saying it didn't show much and recommending more pt. That didn't sit well. I scheduled a consult and talked it out with him. Up until that meeting I don't think he really heard me. He finally did hear me, though, and recommended a pain specialist.
So, here we are. I met with the Anesthesiologist/Pain Specialist. He heard my full story, looked over the MRI, and inspected my back. His diagnosis was surprising and very hopeful! I can't tell you how amazing the difference is between a general practice doctor and a specialist! I won't bore you with the details. I will just say that I have a procedure coming up on Monday that sounds risky (to me, anyways), but if successful, will confirm the diagnosis 100% and give me a pain free existence for several months! In fact, if it works, the pain doc has ordered me to return to my normal workout routines as quickly as possible.
If this works, we'll know exactly why the pain is happening and how to manage it (because the doc said it might be chronic).
I'm excited and nervous. Cross your fingers, say a prayer, and we'll see!
I'm not a doctor kind of person. I'd just as soon deal with it myself. But, when I started gasping in surprised pain in the middle of teaching lessons at school I realized I really had to do something about it. Students wanted to know what's wrong.
So frustrating!
The Doc listened, noted that I can still move about and touch my toes, and sent me to the Physical Therapist.
As you know, I've been very active these past two years. I run, bike, kayak, and swim. But the biking has slowly been sidelined. Biking never really happened this summer. The one time I went with Bill was just too agonizing to repeat. Kayaking never happened this summer, either. Running was a delicate balance of training carefully and pain killers. Running slowly petered out, too, until I had to give myself a serious pep talk just to do a 5K on a treadmill. Swimming, however, stayed GOLDEN! It is the perfect injured person workout! Every doc I've seen has encouraged me to keep up with the swimming, since there is little chance of pain or injury aggravation with it.
Anyways, I went off to pt for a month, shelling out copay after copay. It's hard to fit an extra $60/week into the budget, especially when it didn't seem to be helping. Talk about stress.
So, after a month of pt with no results, the Doc finally ordered an MRI.
Those suckers are expensive! We'll have to pay a large chunk of it, but then my deductible will be met for the year. Again, not in the budget. Christmas will be homemade this year since our holiday budget has been shot by this.
To make a long story short, I got a call back from the doc after the MRI saying it didn't show much and recommending more pt. That didn't sit well. I scheduled a consult and talked it out with him. Up until that meeting I don't think he really heard me. He finally did hear me, though, and recommended a pain specialist.
So, here we are. I met with the Anesthesiologist/Pain Specialist. He heard my full story, looked over the MRI, and inspected my back. His diagnosis was surprising and very hopeful! I can't tell you how amazing the difference is between a general practice doctor and a specialist! I won't bore you with the details. I will just say that I have a procedure coming up on Monday that sounds risky (to me, anyways), but if successful, will confirm the diagnosis 100% and give me a pain free existence for several months! In fact, if it works, the pain doc has ordered me to return to my normal workout routines as quickly as possible.
If this works, we'll know exactly why the pain is happening and how to manage it (because the doc said it might be chronic).
I'm excited and nervous. Cross your fingers, say a prayer, and we'll see!
True Compliments
Little children can be so uplifting. They are so eager to love, and show that love as much as possible!
I teach art to all grade levels in the school, Kindergarten through 6th grade. Oh, those little ones! On the one hand, they can be hard to handle because they are absolutely BURSTING with energy, and when you put 25 of them in the same room it can be overwhelming and difficult to control.
On the other hand, they are so ready to shower me with compliments. You know the domino effect? It can be especially problematic with a room full of 5 year olds. Just let one of them say he/she has to go potty....
.... suddenly there is a room FULL of 5 year olds who ALL have to go potty! Oi.
However, the domino effect also works when one of those little darlings wants to show some love. If one little Kindergartener (or 1st grader, or 2nd grader...) runs up to me with a hug and an "I love your _____ (insert random physical attribute... hair, shoes, shirt, necklace...)!" it is guaranteed that I am about to be showered with similar compliments from at least 6 more kids in line. I get told "You're so pretty!" so many times in the day it is a wonder my ego isn't blown all out of proportion.
The truth is, they are just so eager to LOVE life that I'm sure they would think I'm pretty even if I was a toad (though I'm glad I am not a toad).
The true gems of compliments are much more rare and so precious when they do happen.
Yesterday, while I was setting out some art supplies for a Kindergarten class, as I leaned over her, one of the little girls commented, "You smell good, teacher," followed up just a beat or two later by "You smell like my Mommy."
How can a compliment be more beautiful than that?
I teach art to all grade levels in the school, Kindergarten through 6th grade. Oh, those little ones! On the one hand, they can be hard to handle because they are absolutely BURSTING with energy, and when you put 25 of them in the same room it can be overwhelming and difficult to control.
On the other hand, they are so ready to shower me with compliments. You know the domino effect? It can be especially problematic with a room full of 5 year olds. Just let one of them say he/she has to go potty....
.... suddenly there is a room FULL of 5 year olds who ALL have to go potty! Oi.
However, the domino effect also works when one of those little darlings wants to show some love. If one little Kindergartener (or 1st grader, or 2nd grader...) runs up to me with a hug and an "I love your _____ (insert random physical attribute... hair, shoes, shirt, necklace...)!" it is guaranteed that I am about to be showered with similar compliments from at least 6 more kids in line. I get told "You're so pretty!" so many times in the day it is a wonder my ego isn't blown all out of proportion.
The truth is, they are just so eager to LOVE life that I'm sure they would think I'm pretty even if I was a toad (though I'm glad I am not a toad).
The true gems of compliments are much more rare and so precious when they do happen.
Yesterday, while I was setting out some art supplies for a Kindergarten class, as I leaned over her, one of the little girls commented, "You smell good, teacher," followed up just a beat or two later by "You smell like my Mommy."
How can a compliment be more beautiful than that?
Grief
Laying in bed, tossing and turning because I can't get the thoughts in my head to leave me alone. So I thought I might as well get up and put those thoughts down in words, so maybe, finally, I can go to sleep.
None of my children go to church. I ask my youngest to join me at church every Sunday morning. Every Sunday morning he turns me down. My husband only grudgingly goes, some of the time, because he loves me and knows it would make me happy. If it weren't for that, he would not grace the chapel with his presence. To be honest, it makes it hard for me to go. I hate to go alone.
Why do I bother? Why do I care? What does it matter to me if they go to church or not? It is true that I am not one of those parents who force my offspring into church attendance. I am not fool enough to think that if I just MAKE them come, they will somehow love the gospel and be better Christians.
Why won't they come? Do they not believe? Are they not Christian enough? Or is the church not Christian enough? Have I done something wrong in raising them? Is there something more I could/should do?
I doubt the kids remember this, but when they were babies, their lullabies were Hymns. I rocked them to sleep singing "Nearer, My God, To Thee", "Rock of Ages", "Because I Have Been Given Much", "The Lord is My Shepherd", and many others of my favorites. I have literally years of memories; cuddling my precious children while singing to them about Christ. Helena probably does have memories of constantly requesting her personal favorite children's Hymn, "I Love to See the Temple". That one is unique to the LDS faith, so for those who are not members, here are the lyrics:
None of my children go to church. I ask my youngest to join me at church every Sunday morning. Every Sunday morning he turns me down. My husband only grudgingly goes, some of the time, because he loves me and knows it would make me happy. If it weren't for that, he would not grace the chapel with his presence. To be honest, it makes it hard for me to go. I hate to go alone.
Why do I bother? Why do I care? What does it matter to me if they go to church or not? It is true that I am not one of those parents who force my offspring into church attendance. I am not fool enough to think that if I just MAKE them come, they will somehow love the gospel and be better Christians.
Why won't they come? Do they not believe? Are they not Christian enough? Or is the church not Christian enough? Have I done something wrong in raising them? Is there something more I could/should do?
I doubt the kids remember this, but when they were babies, their lullabies were Hymns. I rocked them to sleep singing "Nearer, My God, To Thee", "Rock of Ages", "Because I Have Been Given Much", "The Lord is My Shepherd", and many others of my favorites. I have literally years of memories; cuddling my precious children while singing to them about Christ. Helena probably does have memories of constantly requesting her personal favorite children's Hymn, "I Love to See the Temple". That one is unique to the LDS faith, so for those who are not members, here are the lyrics:
I Love To See the Temple,
I'm going there someday.
To feel the Holy Spirit,
To listen and to pray.
For the Temple is a House of God,
A place of Love and Beauty.
I'll prepare myself while I am young,
This is my sacred duty.
I love to see the Temple,
I'll go inside someday.
I'll covenant with my Father
I promise to obey.
For the Temple is a Holy Place,
Where we are sealed together.
As a Child of God, I've learned this truth,
A Family is Forever.
If you want to know what it sounds like, here are a couple of links. The first is an instrumental arrangement that is more elaborate, the second is more simply arranged.
She used to ask for this at bedtime so often I would just get sick of singing it. But I never said "No".
They spent their entire childhoods attending worship services dressed in their Sunday best. I still have all the dresses my mother made especially for Helena. She was the best dressed little girl in the congregation, since my mom is a master seamstress and the dresses often involved French lace insets, fancy embroidery, and hand worked smocking. Those dresses are truly fit for a princess and would be incredibly expensive if actually sold. Never, of course! I have always hoped that someday Helena will want to dress her own little girl in those dresses and take her to church to learn about God's love.
So, they went to Sunday School. They were taught at home. They know all the fundamentals about the Gospel of Christ.
And yet they don't worship.
Before you tell me that maybe their worship is done in private, I have contemplated that.
I don't think it is happening.
Why, you ask?
Because private worship brings a person closer to the gospel, not farther from it. Private worship softens hearts. Private worship brings families closer together. I don't see that happening.
I watch my kids make some of the most crucial decisions of their lives and I fear for them because they are not turing to the Lord for help in making those decisions. I get frustrated because my advice falls on deaf ears and hardened hearts. I see my children drifting away from me and there is nothing I can do to stop it.
I am a broken person. I think everyone is flawed, in some way. But I am a person who was damaged as a child and spent a lifetime feeling of little worth. Feeling unclean. Feeling unworthy. I now know it is why I never had close friends growing up. It is why I struggled with dating. It is why I'm a loner. It is something I battle with on a daily basis. I will battle with it all my life. Some hurts run deeper than can ever be imagined and the scars will always bring pain.
The only times I have felt whole are times when I have felt close to the Savior. The times in my life when I was truly striving to live my life in harmony with the gospel of Christ. In those moments I have felt true joy and have even received significant personal revelations that have guided me and formed the basis or core of the person I am still striving to be. Most of those moments are tied to my family, as well. Moments when I was sealed to my husband and children for eternity. Moments when I snuggled my sleeping infant. Moments when my siblings shared their testimonies as we gathered to say farewell to our beloved brother, who had passed away. Moments when I watched my children get baptized. Moments when I realized that I didn't have to be a perfect person to receive the love of my Savior and partake in his atoning sacrifice.
And so I grieve.
I grieve because my children are not turning to God as the guiding force in their lives. They are allowing their reaction to people get in the way of their relationship with God. People in the church can be frustrating. They are imperfect, too, after all. The members of the church can be the biggest impediment to the gospel of Christ, sometimes. People say and do stupid stuff. But that is not important. The people are not the gospel. The gospel allows us to love the people around us in spite of our own imperfections, and theirs, too.
But if you don't focus on the gospel, you can lose sight of that.
So. I need to do better. I need to bring Christ back to the center of my own life. I can't force him to the center of my children's lives, but I can continue to pray for them and hope that it is enough to soften their hearts and bring them back.
I want them to have spiritual lives.
Blessed
Just when I am fuming and bitter over some disappointment dealt to me by my daughter, a friend posted to Facebook the sad news that his new baby daughter did not survive her pre-term delivery.
And I am shamed.
And I am humbled.
And I am reminded of the great blessing of having my beautiful daughter in my life. I have had nearly 20 years of love and laughter that my friend will have to forgo, because his beautiful daughter has left this mortal life. I can hopefully look forward to many more moments of wonder and love in the years to come.
We are imperfect beings, living in an imperfect world. But there are moments of perfect happiness that can be stored away in memories. They are such great blessings in life.
Happiness is fleeting.
Love is eternal.
I am sorry for my friend.
And I love my daughter.
And I am shamed.
And I am humbled.
And I am reminded of the great blessing of having my beautiful daughter in my life. I have had nearly 20 years of love and laughter that my friend will have to forgo, because his beautiful daughter has left this mortal life. I can hopefully look forward to many more moments of wonder and love in the years to come.
We are imperfect beings, living in an imperfect world. But there are moments of perfect happiness that can be stored away in memories. They are such great blessings in life.
Happiness is fleeting.
Love is eternal.
I am sorry for my friend.
And I love my daughter.
I'm a Wreck
It is ridiculous how much time has gone by without a post. Life, I guess.
There have been many times I have meant to sit down and write about something that has happened, but the moment passes and now I forget what I wanted to say. Hopefully it wasn't too important.
Summer has gone, and I feel cheated out of the best weather of the year.
I'm sick, you see.
I had Strep for a week (including the weekend), which morphed into a cold with chest congestion that has ruined yet another weekend for me. Bah humbug and harrumph. I hate being sick, but it is especially rude in late September - when we experience the most amazing and awesome weather of the year! Two perfect weekends totally ruined. I'm feeling quite bitter.
My family has taken advantage of the weather, though. Bill has been on multiple bike rides. Helena did the Electric Run at Thanksgiving Point, which looked like a cross between a 5K and a rock concert. Will took a friend with him to windsurf on the lake all day. He got an impressive sunburn.
I sat inside rubbing my nose raw on tissues.
I also missed the last week of outdoor swimming. Grrr.
Still, onward and upward, eh?
I'm starting to want to exercise again, a sure sign I'm getting better. And really, October has great hiking weather, so there's that to anticipate.
Meanwhile, I'm in physical therapy for the spot on my back that got hurt in the car accident last year. It started hurting again for no apparent reason. The doctor said that the insurance won't cover the cost of an MRI until after p/t has been done. Phooey. P/T costs a $30 copay each time I go, which is twice a week. It does not fit in the budget, but what do you do?
Man! I'm a wreck!
The Armed Forces - Swearing In
Yesterday afternoon, I dropped my son, Will, off at the recruitment station in Provo. They delivered him to a hotel near the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS) up in Salt Lake that evening, so he could begin the process first thing this morning. He spent all morning undergoing physicals and filling out paperwork. He met all the physical requirements. In fact, he passed them with flying colors! The military creates a physical profile for each member that can potentially limit eligibility for certain jobs. Will got the highest marks in all categories of the profile, so there are (again) no restrictions on the jobs he can be trained for in the military.
He is on the low end of weight for his height. We've known that for practically his whole life, though. Only 5 lbs. lighter and he would have been disqualified from joining the service. So, we'll spend the next 11 months once again trying to help him gain weight. He will be taking weight training classes all year during his senior year, and I'm hoping that will also help him fill out some. Such a backwards dilemma.
After the physicals, he spent time going over a ream of paperwork while we arrived at the MEPS to watch the swearing in ceremony. Will and 6 other guys stood at attention, raised their right hands, and took the oath to serve their country. Will was the tallest guy in the room. He is now officially taller than his Dad.
Now that Will is a member of the military, he will join the Future Soldiers Program. That means that every Thursday afternoon he will meet with the recruiters for an hour and a half to learn what it is to be a soldier. Sargent Yates said sometimes they'll be doing PT (physical training), and sometimes they'll be learning about military traditions and etiquette. And, because he has joined the Army Reserves, he will join his Unit up in Salt Lake City once a month for Drill Weekends. He'll get paid for those.
When Will graduates from High School, he will then be ready for Basic Training and AIT (advanced individual training). AIT is where he will be trained to do the specific job (MOS) he chose in the military. For him, that is a Chemical Operations Specialist, or CBRN. The job designation is 74D, pronounced 74 Delta. He will be trained to operate and maintain decontamination equipment whenever chemical, biological, radiological, or nuclear fallout occurs. Sounds scary! I picture the people in the hazmat suits in movies like "The Sum of All Fears". That's the job my son will be trained for. That's the job he chose over becoming a paralegal or a medical tech. There were lots of jobs he could have chosen, actually, but those three were the most promising because of the signing bonuses that came with them.
You see, when he finishes training for this job, he will receive a $10,000 bonus for being willing to do it, and a $100/month "kicker" to his Montgomery GI Bill. That means an additional $100/mo. on top of what he would normally receive as a GI. That's school money. Because when we returns from job training, he will be going to school. Tuition assistance and the GI Bill will cover his college costs, and the recruiters told us that we will make sure his admissions and registration are all taken care of before he ships out to basic, so there will be no snags or stresses when he comes home. He'll be ready for school. All his ducks in a row.
Today, Will swore in as a member of the US Army Reserves. I am so proud of him, and so anxious, too. I want him to excel and I want to protect him all at the very same time. It is internally confusing. While waiting for the swearing in ceremony, Will mentioned that he designated me on the paperwork as the person who should receive his body and his pay if he should be killed while serving. What a cheery thought.
All of this is a lot to process! I know I've been driving Will nuts with all the researching I've been doing on all things Army. I'm just trying to wrap my head around it, you know? He's still my little boy, even if he is 6'2" and in the Army.
I'm grateful we have almost a full year before basic. I can focus on this last year of high school, and just enjoying every last drop of every moment I have with him before he leaves. I want to make it a year to remember. My last year with a child at home.
He is on the low end of weight for his height. We've known that for practically his whole life, though. Only 5 lbs. lighter and he would have been disqualified from joining the service. So, we'll spend the next 11 months once again trying to help him gain weight. He will be taking weight training classes all year during his senior year, and I'm hoping that will also help him fill out some. Such a backwards dilemma.
After the physicals, he spent time going over a ream of paperwork while we arrived at the MEPS to watch the swearing in ceremony. Will and 6 other guys stood at attention, raised their right hands, and took the oath to serve their country. Will was the tallest guy in the room. He is now officially taller than his Dad.
Now that Will is a member of the military, he will join the Future Soldiers Program. That means that every Thursday afternoon he will meet with the recruiters for an hour and a half to learn what it is to be a soldier. Sargent Yates said sometimes they'll be doing PT (physical training), and sometimes they'll be learning about military traditions and etiquette. And, because he has joined the Army Reserves, he will join his Unit up in Salt Lake City once a month for Drill Weekends. He'll get paid for those.
When Will graduates from High School, he will then be ready for Basic Training and AIT (advanced individual training). AIT is where he will be trained to do the specific job (MOS) he chose in the military. For him, that is a Chemical Operations Specialist, or CBRN. The job designation is 74D, pronounced 74 Delta. He will be trained to operate and maintain decontamination equipment whenever chemical, biological, radiological, or nuclear fallout occurs. Sounds scary! I picture the people in the hazmat suits in movies like "The Sum of All Fears". That's the job my son will be trained for. That's the job he chose over becoming a paralegal or a medical tech. There were lots of jobs he could have chosen, actually, but those three were the most promising because of the signing bonuses that came with them.
You see, when he finishes training for this job, he will receive a $10,000 bonus for being willing to do it, and a $100/month "kicker" to his Montgomery GI Bill. That means an additional $100/mo. on top of what he would normally receive as a GI. That's school money. Because when we returns from job training, he will be going to school. Tuition assistance and the GI Bill will cover his college costs, and the recruiters told us that we will make sure his admissions and registration are all taken care of before he ships out to basic, so there will be no snags or stresses when he comes home. He'll be ready for school. All his ducks in a row.
Today, Will swore in as a member of the US Army Reserves. I am so proud of him, and so anxious, too. I want him to excel and I want to protect him all at the very same time. It is internally confusing. While waiting for the swearing in ceremony, Will mentioned that he designated me on the paperwork as the person who should receive his body and his pay if he should be killed while serving. What a cheery thought.
All of this is a lot to process! I know I've been driving Will nuts with all the researching I've been doing on all things Army. I'm just trying to wrap my head around it, you know? He's still my little boy, even if he is 6'2" and in the Army.
I'm grateful we have almost a full year before basic. I can focus on this last year of high school, and just enjoying every last drop of every moment I have with him before he leaves. I want to make it a year to remember. My last year with a child at home.
Pioneer Trek Part 2
Before I recount my experiences on a handcart trek reenactment, I feel the need to give a couple of bits of background information.
If you are asking "What is a Pioneer Handcart Trek?" Here is a link that briefly gives some facts and background to a small but significant piece of historical American westward migration.
HANDCART PIONEERS
Every six years or so, handcart trek reenactments are organized by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to give the youth (12-18 year old members) the opportunity to experience, in a small way, the hardships, faith, determination, and courage of their pioneer ancestors. The youth are organized into "families" and assigned a "Ma & Pa" and a handcart. All adults involved in this endeavor are volunteers and often use their own vacation/personal leave time from work in order to pull this off. Each participant is given a 5 gallon bucket to pack any and all gear and equipment into (except for tents and sleeping gear), which are placed in the handcart along with 2 food coolers and 2 five gallon water jugs. No electronics of any type are allowed on the journey. We estimated that the handcarts weighed approximately 500 lbs. fully loaded. Then the "families" would pull their handcart for 3 days, camping in the desert/wilderness for two nights.
Here is the second tidbit of information...
I hate camping. My idea of roughing it is staying in a hotel instead of a time share, and maybe even being willing to stay in a hotel with no pool (shudder!). Yet, when we were asked to volunteer to be a "Ma & Pa", we agreed to do it.
Each person participating in this event was asked to research the Willie and Martin handcart companies, and to choose a specific pioneer in whom to dedicate their handcart experience, preferably an ancestor, if one existed in the companies.
I do not have pioneer ancestors, but Bill does. Emily Wall is Bill's grandmother six generations removed. She and her brother, Joseph Wall, were members of the Willie handcart company. I trekked for Emily, Bill trekked for Joseph. Here is their story...
The Wall family lived in England in the 1850's and had joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. They wanted to join the main congregation of saints in the Salt Lake valley (which was not even part of America at the time), but could not afford the journey for the whole family. It was decided that the two oldest children, Joseph (17) and Emily (16), would leave the family and make the "Journey to Zion", as it was called.
{Side note: As a parent, I can't even begin to fathom the sacrifice of that decision! To leave their family and all that they know at such a young age! And, at that time in history, they had to know that it was likely they'd never see one another again!}
Emily and Joseph set sail on the Thornton and joined the Willie handcart company.
At some point on the trail, and past the point of no return, Joseph became deathly ill. The leaders of the company determined that it was unlikely he would survive the day. They left Emily and one of her young friends sitting with the dying Joseph on the side of the trail and continued with the rest of the company to the evening camp, intending to send riders back to assist in burying Joseph and bringing the girls back to camp. When the riders retraced the trail and found the girls, Joseph was still alive! Emily begged the men to place her brother in her handcart and she vowed to pull him herself.
And she did. She pulled her handcart (with the help of her friend), with her 17 year old brother in it, all the way to the Salt Lake valley; even through the bitter trials that beset that particular handcart company. Both she and Joseph survived.
I can't tell you how fiercely proud I am of this young woman's faith, courage, love and dedication! I tear up just thinking about her.
We arrived, in pioneer costume, bright and early at the church building to load into buses and head out to the trek site, having delivered our camping gear (tents, food/water coolers, bedding, and 5 gallon buckets of essentials) the night before. I ended up having to send Bill back home because in the excitement of leaving in the morning, I forgot a couple of essential items (neck coolers and gifts I had made for my "children"). Three buses delivered the approximately 120 youth and their adult leaders. Originally, Bill and I had been assigned 7 kids, but on the night before trek we received an e-mail telling us one of the boys had pulled out. On the morning of trek, we discovered one of the girls had also pulled out. That left us with 5 "children", three girls and two boys. It made us one of the smaller families and meant that our kids would spend the majority of their time physically pushing/pulling the handcart. Other, larger families could rotate the youth, giving them breaks from the hard work of pulling the handcart.
That first day, we pulled the handcarts for about 10 miles over relatively flat ground. Part of the day was cool and windy, part of the day was hot. There is a joke in Utah that says if you don't like the weather, wait 5 minutes or drive 5 miles. Really, the weather here is that changeable. The ground alternated between gravelly and powdery dirt. We all got coated in fine, gritty grime by the end of the day. For a while, I had a bandana covering my face, trying to filter it out. I can't tell you how good it felt to finally pull into camp on the first night. Hot, hungry and foot-sore, we put up our tents.
The original members of the Willie and Martin handcart companies ran into trouble because they left late in the season, and no one knew they were coming. When they reached the re-fueling way stations, there was no one there and no supplies with which to restock. They had to cut rations again and again in their attempt to reach the valley. By the end (just before they were rescued), they were down to 4 ounces of flour per adult, and 2 onces of flour per child each day! They mixed it in water and drank it. Many men mixed their own portion with their wife's and children's, telling their families that they had already eaten back at the supply wagon. That is why so many more men died than women. They were literally sacrificing their own lives in the hopes that their families would survive.
Fortunately, we have no desire to put the youth though that kind of experience! There was an incredible support staff that brought in food to the camps for every meal. We were well fed.
Once everyone had eaten and had their tents up (girls on one side of camp, boys on the other, leaders tents in the middle), everyone gathered for square dancing.
!!!
Oh, my feet hurt! I DID NOT want to dance.
But, we danced. And it was FUN! There was so much laughter. It was really fun to see these young people who are usually completely plugged in (texting and zoned out with earbuds in) being so playful and full of life.
There were lots of devotionals, prayers, and singing...
... but there were no showers.
We had packed baby wipes and used those to get as clean as we could in our tent before going to bed. Of course, the very next morning, we had to put back on the same grimy and gritty clothes we had worn the day before, because we only had one set of pioneer clothes.
Let me just say a few words about the clothes. Yes, I still think pioneer women wore too many bulky clothes. However, I noticed something almost from the beginning. It suddenly didn't matter what my body looked like under all those clothes. It didn't matter that my tummy pooches more than I'd like. It didn't matter if my underarms sagged a bit. It didn't matter that I'm carrying around 20 lbs. of extra fat. None of that mattered because you couldn't really tell under all those clothes. There is nothing revealing about those clothes, whatsoever. All that mattered was what was in my mind and in my heart.
We woke up to the bugle call at 6 am. I had a rotten night sleep, waking at 2:30 am needing to pee, but being unwilling to disturb the camp with a flashlight dash to the port-a-johns in the dark. So, I tossed and turned in discomfort until 5 am, when it was finally light enough out to venture through camp sans flashlight. After tearing down the camp, breakfast, and morning devotional, we headed out for day two of handcart trekking.
The second day was only 5 or 6 miles, but they were on rougher terrain and in bad weather. Cold and wet in the morning, scorching in the afternoon. The kids had to push and pull through the rain wearing ponchos. The dust turned to mud that caked the handcart wheels and the bottoms of everyone's feet, making shoes feel like lead. Still, the rain meant cool weather, for which we were all grateful. The afternoon weather turned blisteringly hot, leaving us pulling into evening camp in 100 * temperatures.
Let me take a moment to talk about my "kids" on trek. We had two senior aged girls, Maddi and Ashley, a junior aged boy, Chandler, a sophomore girl named Tianna, and Kaden, our freshman "son". Maddi and Ashley were WONDERFUL big sisters! They were so helpful and kind to the younger kids! They both had wonderful singing voices and were very mature, grounded girls. We had no silly giggling fits (thank goodness!), no worries about them sneaking off with boyfriends, being out after curfew, or leaving chores undone. Chandler was a quiet, sober, and slightly geeky boy. I say that as a compliment. There was no bluster or false bravado in him. He was always quick to help and to obey. Really a solid gold "son"! Tianna was what you might call our "challenge" child. She wandered off constantly and I spent a great deal of time just trying to keep her with the family. Yet she wasn't malicious about it. I got the sense that it was part of her nature. She lived in her head and had a hard time focusing and hearing when we called her name. Our youngest, Kaden, was the life of the party. He's one of those kids with excess personality! His friend, Tony, often wandered over to our family handcart, announcing that he was our "adopted son". Just like Chandler, Kaden was a hard worker and never shirked a responsibility or disobeyed. I was just so impressed by these young people! I'm so proud I got to be their "Ma"!
After another evening of square dancing, group devotional and family devotional, we headed to bed.
Here are a couple of side stories, not specific to my little family.
While the tents were being set up in the 100 * heat, a girl from another family passed out in her tent. Her trek "sisters" thought she was just napping and left her alone. Fortunately, her "Ma" thought it was odd that she would be napping in a hot tent and went to check on her. Upon finding her unresponsive, she quickly summoned the medic, Brother Smith, who took the girl back to the lodge and administered an IV to get some fluids in her. I believe she ended up being transported to the hospital and missed the rest of the trek.
At about 10:30 pm (30 minutes after curfew), a strong wind hit the camp. Suddenly a bunch of girls started screaming! Moments later we had girls amongst the leaders' tents calling out for their "Ma's and Pa's" because their tents had collapsed. We hurried out and found two of the big walled tents down. One was a quick fix, anchoring the stakes down more firmly. The other one, however, had a shattered pole! Some duct tape and a shuffling of sound poles to the windward side and damaged poles to the leeward side fixed up the tent and everyone headed back to bed.
This was another short mileage day. Something between 5 and 6 miles. But it was the day with the biggest challenges... the Women's Pull and the River Crossing.
Many pioneer women ended up pulling the handcarts across the plains by themselves. Some came alone. Others lost their husbands on the way. There are many accounts of these amazing women pulling handcarts and caring for large families alone for literally hundreds of miles. Emily Wall was one of them. As a way to honor that heritage, and to help the young women in our care learn that they are stronger than they know, the men were pulled away from the families, and the girls took the handcarts alone for about a mile. But not just any mile. A grueling and brutal mile. Part was uphill, all was in ankle deep silt. The carts were bogged down by it. The pull was extremely taxing.
The girls were watched over by the "Ma's", but we had specific instructions NOT to help. Oh, that was SO HARD! To watch those girls struggle! I knew that the lion's share of the burden was falling on Ashley and Maddi. Sweet young Tianna was not a hard worker. Maddi and Tianna ended up in front, Ashley pushing from the back. Ashley got literally coated with dust, but she never flagged in her efforts. The cart lurched and jerked to a halt several times, and I admit I stepped in to help steer it aright and to budge it forward from time to time. But I mostly walked by their side and watched these excellent girls struggle and hummed hymns of encouragement to give their minds a focus on something other than their difficulties.
The men and boys were lined up on both sides of the end of the women's pull. They watched with their hats in hand as the girls struggled past them, many of the girls weeping as they toiled, including my own girls. They watched as many of the first girls to finish turned around and quickly ran back to help other girls bring their handcarts along. Most of the boys and men had tears in their eyes, as well. While the "Ma's" and medics tended to the girls after the pull, the men pulled the boys aside and instructed them to never in this lifetime leave the women in their lives to pull the handcart alone, metaphorically speaking.
I wished I could hold all of my girls at once, but I knew that Ashley was the strongest, and Tianna's tears were mostly a reaction to Maddi's tears. Maddi was the one who was completely undone by the experience. I held her while she wept and Brother Smith (the medic) and I both kept a close eye on her for the rest of the afternoon. Still, I did manage to get hugs in for all the girls. I just worry that Ashley might have felt less love. Not so! I just knew she was my rock solid daughter and that Maddi's condition was worse. She was literally shaking uncontrollably.
Now, you might think us a heartless group of child abusers for putting the girls through such a thing. Here is some food for thought: I know what it is to overcome a physical challenge. To subject myself to my own will and accomplish a truly difficult task. You know about it if your read my account of running a marathon. And now, those girls know it, too. They have experienced a true mind over matter moment that will benefit them for the rest of their lives. It is also important to note that this was not sprung upon them, unawares. They were fully briefed in advance and no one was forced to participate. It was actually a very moving and spiritual experience for everyone involved and all the girls were very proud for having accomplished it. The boys were very respectful and impressed.
After singing several hymns (giving the girls some time to recover), the boys and men took over the handcarts. Not a single girl was allowed to pull the handcarts for the rest of the day. The boys wouldn't dream of it.
On October 19, 1856, the first winter storm rolled across the Willie and Martin handcart companies. The Martin handcart company was unfortunate enough to have to cross the North Platte river right when the storm was at its worst. Even worse, in a desperate attempt to lighten their load and reach the valley more quickly, the pioneers had abandoned most of their clothing and blankets only two days prior to the storm. Soaked and freezing, they found the ground too frozen to drive the stakes in for their tents. So they crawled under the canvas laying on the ground and tried to stay alive. Many died that night.
But, help was on the way. Several weeks previous, an express wagon had passed the handcart companies on the plains and brought word of their existence and their dire need to Brigham Young, the Mormon prophet and leader, in the Salt Lake valley. Upon learning of the situation, Brigham Young immediately ordered rescue parties to set out that very day. Women stripped off their petticoats, shoes and stockings, and gathered blankets to send. Provisions were loaded on relief wagons, despite the settlement being on short rations due to a bad growing season. A rescue was on its way.
After finding the handcart pioneers in truly desperate condition, and tending to them as best they could, the rescuers still had to bring the emaciated and terribly weakened saints the rest of the way without becoming victims of the elements themselves. When they reached the final river crossing, the Sweetwater River, many of the handcart pioneers sat down in the snow and wept in despair.
Five young men from the rescue party, ranging in age from 17 to 25, stepped forward and carried the weakest of the handcart pioneers through the river, each crossing the ice choked river as much as 50 times in their efforts to save the saints.
The final challenge of our handcart trek was a river crossing. The boys were instructed to pull the handcarts through by themselves (no men helping), park them, then come back across and carry each and every one of the sisters across the river. This being a desert, and rivers being somewhat scarse, the river was a manufactured body of water. Still, the challenge of carrying over 60 girls and women across was real enough.
Bill carried me across. The grown men were only allowed to carry their wives. The young men had to do the rest. We were towards the front of the handcart train, so my "sons" had more than their share of duty in carrying girls across. I imagine they woke up this morning with very sore muscles.
And then, it was over! After the river crossing, we were just yards from the lodge. We parked the carts, met with our bishops to have a closing devotional, then unloaded the carts, power washed them, put all our gear into the supply trailers, got family photos taken, and loaded onto the buses to return home. Over all, we pulled those handcarts a total of approximately 22 miles.
It was three days of hard work, hard weather, sweat, and gross grimy shower-less-ness. But it was oh so worth it! It was really the most amazing experience and I am so very glad I got to experience it!
If you are asking "What is a Pioneer Handcart Trek?" Here is a link that briefly gives some facts and background to a small but significant piece of historical American westward migration.
HANDCART PIONEERS
Every six years or so, handcart trek reenactments are organized by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to give the youth (12-18 year old members) the opportunity to experience, in a small way, the hardships, faith, determination, and courage of their pioneer ancestors. The youth are organized into "families" and assigned a "Ma & Pa" and a handcart. All adults involved in this endeavor are volunteers and often use their own vacation/personal leave time from work in order to pull this off. Each participant is given a 5 gallon bucket to pack any and all gear and equipment into (except for tents and sleeping gear), which are placed in the handcart along with 2 food coolers and 2 five gallon water jugs. No electronics of any type are allowed on the journey. We estimated that the handcarts weighed approximately 500 lbs. fully loaded. Then the "families" would pull their handcart for 3 days, camping in the desert/wilderness for two nights.
Here is the second tidbit of information...
I hate camping. My idea of roughing it is staying in a hotel instead of a time share, and maybe even being willing to stay in a hotel with no pool (shudder!). Yet, when we were asked to volunteer to be a "Ma & Pa", we agreed to do it.
Dedicating the Experience
Each person participating in this event was asked to research the Willie and Martin handcart companies, and to choose a specific pioneer in whom to dedicate their handcart experience, preferably an ancestor, if one existed in the companies.
I do not have pioneer ancestors, but Bill does. Emily Wall is Bill's grandmother six generations removed. She and her brother, Joseph Wall, were members of the Willie handcart company. I trekked for Emily, Bill trekked for Joseph. Here is their story...
The Wall family lived in England in the 1850's and had joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. They wanted to join the main congregation of saints in the Salt Lake valley (which was not even part of America at the time), but could not afford the journey for the whole family. It was decided that the two oldest children, Joseph (17) and Emily (16), would leave the family and make the "Journey to Zion", as it was called.
{Side note: As a parent, I can't even begin to fathom the sacrifice of that decision! To leave their family and all that they know at such a young age! And, at that time in history, they had to know that it was likely they'd never see one another again!}
Emily and Joseph set sail on the Thornton and joined the Willie handcart company.
At some point on the trail, and past the point of no return, Joseph became deathly ill. The leaders of the company determined that it was unlikely he would survive the day. They left Emily and one of her young friends sitting with the dying Joseph on the side of the trail and continued with the rest of the company to the evening camp, intending to send riders back to assist in burying Joseph and bringing the girls back to camp. When the riders retraced the trail and found the girls, Joseph was still alive! Emily begged the men to place her brother in her handcart and she vowed to pull him herself.
And she did. She pulled her handcart (with the help of her friend), with her 17 year old brother in it, all the way to the Salt Lake valley; even through the bitter trials that beset that particular handcart company. Both she and Joseph survived.
I can't tell you how fiercely proud I am of this young woman's faith, courage, love and dedication! I tear up just thinking about her.
Day 1
We arrived, in pioneer costume, bright and early at the church building to load into buses and head out to the trek site, having delivered our camping gear (tents, food/water coolers, bedding, and 5 gallon buckets of essentials) the night before. I ended up having to send Bill back home because in the excitement of leaving in the morning, I forgot a couple of essential items (neck coolers and gifts I had made for my "children"). Three buses delivered the approximately 120 youth and their adult leaders. Originally, Bill and I had been assigned 7 kids, but on the night before trek we received an e-mail telling us one of the boys had pulled out. On the morning of trek, we discovered one of the girls had also pulled out. That left us with 5 "children", three girls and two boys. It made us one of the smaller families and meant that our kids would spend the majority of their time physically pushing/pulling the handcart. Other, larger families could rotate the youth, giving them breaks from the hard work of pulling the handcart.
That first day, we pulled the handcarts for about 10 miles over relatively flat ground. Part of the day was cool and windy, part of the day was hot. There is a joke in Utah that says if you don't like the weather, wait 5 minutes or drive 5 miles. Really, the weather here is that changeable. The ground alternated between gravelly and powdery dirt. We all got coated in fine, gritty grime by the end of the day. For a while, I had a bandana covering my face, trying to filter it out. I can't tell you how good it felt to finally pull into camp on the first night. Hot, hungry and foot-sore, we put up our tents.
The original members of the Willie and Martin handcart companies ran into trouble because they left late in the season, and no one knew they were coming. When they reached the re-fueling way stations, there was no one there and no supplies with which to restock. They had to cut rations again and again in their attempt to reach the valley. By the end (just before they were rescued), they were down to 4 ounces of flour per adult, and 2 onces of flour per child each day! They mixed it in water and drank it. Many men mixed their own portion with their wife's and children's, telling their families that they had already eaten back at the supply wagon. That is why so many more men died than women. They were literally sacrificing their own lives in the hopes that their families would survive.
Fortunately, we have no desire to put the youth though that kind of experience! There was an incredible support staff that brought in food to the camps for every meal. We were well fed.
Once everyone had eaten and had their tents up (girls on one side of camp, boys on the other, leaders tents in the middle), everyone gathered for square dancing.
!!!
Oh, my feet hurt! I DID NOT want to dance.
But, we danced. And it was FUN! There was so much laughter. It was really fun to see these young people who are usually completely plugged in (texting and zoned out with earbuds in) being so playful and full of life.
There were lots of devotionals, prayers, and singing...
... but there were no showers.
We had packed baby wipes and used those to get as clean as we could in our tent before going to bed. Of course, the very next morning, we had to put back on the same grimy and gritty clothes we had worn the day before, because we only had one set of pioneer clothes.
Let me just say a few words about the clothes. Yes, I still think pioneer women wore too many bulky clothes. However, I noticed something almost from the beginning. It suddenly didn't matter what my body looked like under all those clothes. It didn't matter that my tummy pooches more than I'd like. It didn't matter if my underarms sagged a bit. It didn't matter that I'm carrying around 20 lbs. of extra fat. None of that mattered because you couldn't really tell under all those clothes. There is nothing revealing about those clothes, whatsoever. All that mattered was what was in my mind and in my heart.
Day 2
We woke up to the bugle call at 6 am. I had a rotten night sleep, waking at 2:30 am needing to pee, but being unwilling to disturb the camp with a flashlight dash to the port-a-johns in the dark. So, I tossed and turned in discomfort until 5 am, when it was finally light enough out to venture through camp sans flashlight. After tearing down the camp, breakfast, and morning devotional, we headed out for day two of handcart trekking.
The second day was only 5 or 6 miles, but they were on rougher terrain and in bad weather. Cold and wet in the morning, scorching in the afternoon. The kids had to push and pull through the rain wearing ponchos. The dust turned to mud that caked the handcart wheels and the bottoms of everyone's feet, making shoes feel like lead. Still, the rain meant cool weather, for which we were all grateful. The afternoon weather turned blisteringly hot, leaving us pulling into evening camp in 100 * temperatures.
Let me take a moment to talk about my "kids" on trek. We had two senior aged girls, Maddi and Ashley, a junior aged boy, Chandler, a sophomore girl named Tianna, and Kaden, our freshman "son". Maddi and Ashley were WONDERFUL big sisters! They were so helpful and kind to the younger kids! They both had wonderful singing voices and were very mature, grounded girls. We had no silly giggling fits (thank goodness!), no worries about them sneaking off with boyfriends, being out after curfew, or leaving chores undone. Chandler was a quiet, sober, and slightly geeky boy. I say that as a compliment. There was no bluster or false bravado in him. He was always quick to help and to obey. Really a solid gold "son"! Tianna was what you might call our "challenge" child. She wandered off constantly and I spent a great deal of time just trying to keep her with the family. Yet she wasn't malicious about it. I got the sense that it was part of her nature. She lived in her head and had a hard time focusing and hearing when we called her name. Our youngest, Kaden, was the life of the party. He's one of those kids with excess personality! His friend, Tony, often wandered over to our family handcart, announcing that he was our "adopted son". Just like Chandler, Kaden was a hard worker and never shirked a responsibility or disobeyed. I was just so impressed by these young people! I'm so proud I got to be their "Ma"!
After another evening of square dancing, group devotional and family devotional, we headed to bed.
Here are a couple of side stories, not specific to my little family.
While the tents were being set up in the 100 * heat, a girl from another family passed out in her tent. Her trek "sisters" thought she was just napping and left her alone. Fortunately, her "Ma" thought it was odd that she would be napping in a hot tent and went to check on her. Upon finding her unresponsive, she quickly summoned the medic, Brother Smith, who took the girl back to the lodge and administered an IV to get some fluids in her. I believe she ended up being transported to the hospital and missed the rest of the trek.
At about 10:30 pm (30 minutes after curfew), a strong wind hit the camp. Suddenly a bunch of girls started screaming! Moments later we had girls amongst the leaders' tents calling out for their "Ma's and Pa's" because their tents had collapsed. We hurried out and found two of the big walled tents down. One was a quick fix, anchoring the stakes down more firmly. The other one, however, had a shattered pole! Some duct tape and a shuffling of sound poles to the windward side and damaged poles to the leeward side fixed up the tent and everyone headed back to bed.
Day 3
This was another short mileage day. Something between 5 and 6 miles. But it was the day with the biggest challenges... the Women's Pull and the River Crossing.
The Women's Pull
Many pioneer women ended up pulling the handcarts across the plains by themselves. Some came alone. Others lost their husbands on the way. There are many accounts of these amazing women pulling handcarts and caring for large families alone for literally hundreds of miles. Emily Wall was one of them. As a way to honor that heritage, and to help the young women in our care learn that they are stronger than they know, the men were pulled away from the families, and the girls took the handcarts alone for about a mile. But not just any mile. A grueling and brutal mile. Part was uphill, all was in ankle deep silt. The carts were bogged down by it. The pull was extremely taxing.
The girls were watched over by the "Ma's", but we had specific instructions NOT to help. Oh, that was SO HARD! To watch those girls struggle! I knew that the lion's share of the burden was falling on Ashley and Maddi. Sweet young Tianna was not a hard worker. Maddi and Tianna ended up in front, Ashley pushing from the back. Ashley got literally coated with dust, but she never flagged in her efforts. The cart lurched and jerked to a halt several times, and I admit I stepped in to help steer it aright and to budge it forward from time to time. But I mostly walked by their side and watched these excellent girls struggle and hummed hymns of encouragement to give their minds a focus on something other than their difficulties.
The men and boys were lined up on both sides of the end of the women's pull. They watched with their hats in hand as the girls struggled past them, many of the girls weeping as they toiled, including my own girls. They watched as many of the first girls to finish turned around and quickly ran back to help other girls bring their handcarts along. Most of the boys and men had tears in their eyes, as well. While the "Ma's" and medics tended to the girls after the pull, the men pulled the boys aside and instructed them to never in this lifetime leave the women in their lives to pull the handcart alone, metaphorically speaking.
I wished I could hold all of my girls at once, but I knew that Ashley was the strongest, and Tianna's tears were mostly a reaction to Maddi's tears. Maddi was the one who was completely undone by the experience. I held her while she wept and Brother Smith (the medic) and I both kept a close eye on her for the rest of the afternoon. Still, I did manage to get hugs in for all the girls. I just worry that Ashley might have felt less love. Not so! I just knew she was my rock solid daughter and that Maddi's condition was worse. She was literally shaking uncontrollably.
Now, you might think us a heartless group of child abusers for putting the girls through such a thing. Here is some food for thought: I know what it is to overcome a physical challenge. To subject myself to my own will and accomplish a truly difficult task. You know about it if your read my account of running a marathon. And now, those girls know it, too. They have experienced a true mind over matter moment that will benefit them for the rest of their lives. It is also important to note that this was not sprung upon them, unawares. They were fully briefed in advance and no one was forced to participate. It was actually a very moving and spiritual experience for everyone involved and all the girls were very proud for having accomplished it. The boys were very respectful and impressed.
The River Crossing
After singing several hymns (giving the girls some time to recover), the boys and men took over the handcarts. Not a single girl was allowed to pull the handcarts for the rest of the day. The boys wouldn't dream of it.
On October 19, 1856, the first winter storm rolled across the Willie and Martin handcart companies. The Martin handcart company was unfortunate enough to have to cross the North Platte river right when the storm was at its worst. Even worse, in a desperate attempt to lighten their load and reach the valley more quickly, the pioneers had abandoned most of their clothing and blankets only two days prior to the storm. Soaked and freezing, they found the ground too frozen to drive the stakes in for their tents. So they crawled under the canvas laying on the ground and tried to stay alive. Many died that night.
But, help was on the way. Several weeks previous, an express wagon had passed the handcart companies on the plains and brought word of their existence and their dire need to Brigham Young, the Mormon prophet and leader, in the Salt Lake valley. Upon learning of the situation, Brigham Young immediately ordered rescue parties to set out that very day. Women stripped off their petticoats, shoes and stockings, and gathered blankets to send. Provisions were loaded on relief wagons, despite the settlement being on short rations due to a bad growing season. A rescue was on its way.
After finding the handcart pioneers in truly desperate condition, and tending to them as best they could, the rescuers still had to bring the emaciated and terribly weakened saints the rest of the way without becoming victims of the elements themselves. When they reached the final river crossing, the Sweetwater River, many of the handcart pioneers sat down in the snow and wept in despair.
Five young men from the rescue party, ranging in age from 17 to 25, stepped forward and carried the weakest of the handcart pioneers through the river, each crossing the ice choked river as much as 50 times in their efforts to save the saints.
The final challenge of our handcart trek was a river crossing. The boys were instructed to pull the handcarts through by themselves (no men helping), park them, then come back across and carry each and every one of the sisters across the river. This being a desert, and rivers being somewhat scarse, the river was a manufactured body of water. Still, the challenge of carrying over 60 girls and women across was real enough.
Bill carried me across. The grown men were only allowed to carry their wives. The young men had to do the rest. We were towards the front of the handcart train, so my "sons" had more than their share of duty in carrying girls across. I imagine they woke up this morning with very sore muscles.
And then, it was over! After the river crossing, we were just yards from the lodge. We parked the carts, met with our bishops to have a closing devotional, then unloaded the carts, power washed them, put all our gear into the supply trailers, got family photos taken, and loaded onto the buses to return home. Over all, we pulled those handcarts a total of approximately 22 miles.
It was three days of hard work, hard weather, sweat, and gross grimy shower-less-ness. But it was oh so worth it! It was really the most amazing experience and I am so very glad I got to experience it!
Pioneer Trek, Part 1
Back in February or March, our Bishop came over to our house and asked Bill and I to participate in a pioneer handcart trek reenactment as a "Ma and Pa" to some of the youth of the church during the summer.
A handcart trek sounds pretty adventurous and fun when it is 30* out. We said we'd love to.
We leave tomorrow. In the middle of July. In 100* temperatures.
Ugh.
I have come to the conclusion that people in the 1800's were WAY too hung up about showing skin. I'm going to be spending the next three days outdoors all. day. long. In the blazing sun. In the heat. In full pioneer costume.
Yup. Skirt. Apron. Blouse. Bonnet. Bloomers. Stockings. Full regalia.
No lie.
Not sounding quite so fun now, is it?
I'll let you know all about it when we get back.
A handcart trek sounds pretty adventurous and fun when it is 30* out. We said we'd love to.
We leave tomorrow. In the middle of July. In 100* temperatures.
Ugh.
I have come to the conclusion that people in the 1800's were WAY too hung up about showing skin. I'm going to be spending the next three days outdoors all. day. long. In the blazing sun. In the heat. In full pioneer costume.
Yup. Skirt. Apron. Blouse. Bonnet. Bloomers. Stockings. Full regalia.
No lie.
Not sounding quite so fun now, is it?
I'll let you know all about it when we get back.
High School and Army Reserves
My youngest is going to be a senior in high school this fall.
Yikes! How'd I get so old?
Originally, we signed him up for only morning classes at the high school, because he planned to take a computer tech class at the local applied technology college (they work in tandem with the high school offering career building skills, free tuition, and high school/college credit) that would fill his afternoons all year long. However, Will decided he would rather take an EMT course than the computer course. The EMT course is only one semester long, so he ended up with holes in his schedule for fall semester. I figured we'd get that fixed sometime this summer.
Will is joining the Army Reserves! Holy cow. I know I've talked about it before, but it just seems so much more real now that the gears are in motion. He took the real ASVAB on Monday (not the student version that is given at the local high schools), then he and I met with his recruiters that afternoon to go over his scores and choose a job specialty to be trained in (an MOS in Army acronyms). Will's ASVAB scores were quite high, opening the doors to any job the Army has to offer enlisted guys. The only limitations would be on what jobs are currently available for his projected ship out date.
The job he chose is Chemical Operations Specialist. In other words, he will be trained in maintaining and operating chemical decontamination gear used in chemical warfare, weapons of mass destruction, and/or accidental toxic spills. The job comes with a $10,000 bonus just for being willing to train for it.
So, now back to Will's high school schedule. One of the recruiters called the school to make sure he is on track to graduate next May as part of processing the paperwork for Will to swear in next Monday. There was no one at the high school, so he called the district office. When they looked up Will's schedule they told him "no". Great.
So, this morning was a mad scramble to fix it up and get all of Will's ducks in a row so there would be no problem with his enlistment. At this point I have to give a great big shout out to Mr. Bayles, the HS counselor, who called me and fixed Will's schedule while on vacation at his in-law's place!
Now Will has a full schedule including some weight lifting, PE, psychology, and digital photography added in with his regular math, English, and whatnot. And the EMT class to look forward to in the Spring!
So. All the ducks are in a row.
Will reports in to the recruiters on Sunday evening. They will take him up to a hotel by the base in SLC overnight, then he will spend Monday being poked and prodded by Army doctors during his military physical. Monday afternoon, he will swear in as a member of the Army Reserves.
!!!!!
To those of you who might think it is a shame he isn't going to college...
He is going to college. That is why he is doing Army Reserves instead of regular Army. The recruiters emphasized that we will get his college admissions and registration all squared away BEFORE his ship out date (June 30, 2014) so that as soon as he returns from Basic Training and Job Training (AIT... the Army and their acronyms!), he can start school without any difficulties. The Army's tuition assistance and GI Bills are going to be paying for it. He currently plans to get a bachelors of Aviation Science and become a pilot. He will serve as an enlisted soldier while working on his college degree and possibly even join ROTC while in college and become an officer.
I am so proud of you, Will!!!
Yikes! How'd I get so old?
Originally, we signed him up for only morning classes at the high school, because he planned to take a computer tech class at the local applied technology college (they work in tandem with the high school offering career building skills, free tuition, and high school/college credit) that would fill his afternoons all year long. However, Will decided he would rather take an EMT course than the computer course. The EMT course is only one semester long, so he ended up with holes in his schedule for fall semester. I figured we'd get that fixed sometime this summer.
Will is joining the Army Reserves! Holy cow. I know I've talked about it before, but it just seems so much more real now that the gears are in motion. He took the real ASVAB on Monday (not the student version that is given at the local high schools), then he and I met with his recruiters that afternoon to go over his scores and choose a job specialty to be trained in (an MOS in Army acronyms). Will's ASVAB scores were quite high, opening the doors to any job the Army has to offer enlisted guys. The only limitations would be on what jobs are currently available for his projected ship out date.
The job he chose is Chemical Operations Specialist. In other words, he will be trained in maintaining and operating chemical decontamination gear used in chemical warfare, weapons of mass destruction, and/or accidental toxic spills. The job comes with a $10,000 bonus just for being willing to train for it.
So, now back to Will's high school schedule. One of the recruiters called the school to make sure he is on track to graduate next May as part of processing the paperwork for Will to swear in next Monday. There was no one at the high school, so he called the district office. When they looked up Will's schedule they told him "no". Great.
So, this morning was a mad scramble to fix it up and get all of Will's ducks in a row so there would be no problem with his enlistment. At this point I have to give a great big shout out to Mr. Bayles, the HS counselor, who called me and fixed Will's schedule while on vacation at his in-law's place!
Now Will has a full schedule including some weight lifting, PE, psychology, and digital photography added in with his regular math, English, and whatnot. And the EMT class to look forward to in the Spring!
So. All the ducks are in a row.
Will reports in to the recruiters on Sunday evening. They will take him up to a hotel by the base in SLC overnight, then he will spend Monday being poked and prodded by Army doctors during his military physical. Monday afternoon, he will swear in as a member of the Army Reserves.
!!!!!
To those of you who might think it is a shame he isn't going to college...
He is going to college. That is why he is doing Army Reserves instead of regular Army. The recruiters emphasized that we will get his college admissions and registration all squared away BEFORE his ship out date (June 30, 2014) so that as soon as he returns from Basic Training and Job Training (AIT... the Army and their acronyms!), he can start school without any difficulties. The Army's tuition assistance and GI Bills are going to be paying for it. He currently plans to get a bachelors of Aviation Science and become a pilot. He will serve as an enlisted soldier while working on his college degree and possibly even join ROTC while in college and become an officer.
I am so proud of you, Will!!!
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