Worth Fighting For

It's only been a few hours, and my Facebook feed is blowing up with news of the tragedy in Boston today. It's horrific, disheartening, and downright scary -- as one of my friends posted, "seriously, wtf is wrong with people??" What kind of a world do we live in where people choose the Boston Marathon - a positive, triumphant event and turn it into a target for death and destruction? As time goes on, and as I get older, I realize the less I know and understand. I echo the Book of Mormon prophet Nephi, "I know that [God] loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things."

When tragedies like the one in Boston occur, it makes me want to crawl into bed and hide under the covers. Or find a cave somewhere. Or maybe if I push past the clothes in my overstuffed closet, I'll come out the other side into a magical land where everything is ok. But that's the thing about this journey that we're on called life - there's only one way to do it, and that's "all in." Sure, we can disengage or withdraw as much as we can, but as much as we try to avoid them, bad things happen - and are going to happen. It's just the nature of the beast. With this fact in mind, it can be easy to sink in despair, or to hide under the aforementioned covers....it's a scary world, after all. But I can't help but think of Samwise's speech from the end of "The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers" --

Near the end of the movie, after many battles, a world-weary and battle-fatigued Frodo is having a hard time seeing how their journey can possibly end well, and he tells his friend Sam that he just can't do it anymore. His friend responds --

Sam: I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folks in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.

Frodo: What are we holding on to, Sam?

Sam: That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo...and it's worth fighting for.

Despite the tragedies in this world, I believe that there is still some good in the world - a lot of it, actually. I see it in the people around me each day.

My heart and prayers are with the people and city of Boston today, and also with those who have close ties to Boston. And my heart and prayers go out to everyone else in the world -- because after all, we are all connected merely because we're all human beings together on this planet, and this affects us all. And if you feel like hiding out in your bed for a while, I echo what Sam said - keep going, keep holding on, and keep being the good that is worth fighting for in this world.

Obsessed

There's a new man in my life. Here he is:

My 1st nephew, Red Hudson

This week, I became an auntie to the most perfect little boy. Granted, it isn't any surprise what a perfect little man he is, since he has such amazing genes (his big sister is living proof of these). Red Hudson entered the world early on the morning of the 9th, stealing away the other half of my heart that his sister stole almost two years ago. (For an incredibly moving story behind the meaning of his name, check out his mama's blog. Not only does his name include an amazingly beautiful heritage, but I also think he sounds like one of those classic leading men from Hollywood's Golden Age :).)

I am so blessed to be the aunt of such a precious, heavenly little bundle. I can't wait to hold him and kiss those chubby cheeks. Even though I haven't even met him yet, I feel such an overwhelming urge to protect him - I can't bare to think of anything bad happening to him or his big sister. Yet I know that life has it's share of trials and disappointments. But no matter what happens in life, I will always be there for this little man - and just like I promised his sister, I will always have gum. :)

I love you, Red!!!!

My Bean!!!!

There are few people that I consider to be ideal roommates. One of them is this individual:

Ok, so that picture is a couple of years old...well, about 20 years old. I should probably use this one instead:

Early this morning, my littlest sis flew up to the Northeast to finish up her last semester of college. This past week was her spring break, and since the rest of us lame-o adults had to work, she spent most of her break on an air mattress at my new apartment (which slowly deflated around 3:30-4am each morning, leaving her sleeping on a layer of plastic on my bedroom floor). This girl is a trooper.

And I've got to say it, just having her there made my days so much better.

Most people may know her for her ridiculously awesome talent (see the video below)


Or her awesome wit and sense of humor

What others may not know is she is also one of the sweetest, most patient people on the planet.
She has certainly put up with a lot from me, especially over the last few years since I moved back home. Now she had to share a car, which entailed juggling schedules, and being super flexible as we tried to make both of our work schedules mesh. (And most of the time they didn't.) I lost track of how many days she had to either go in early or wait long after her shift was over because our work schedules couldn't BE more opposite.

But as difficult as the past few years may have been, I am so grateful for the time we had together during her breaks from college. I was lucky to have lived with my other little sister when we were at college together, and it was such a fun bonding experience, I really wanted an experience like that with my littlest sister so that we could also form our own memories together. Having my littlest sister be my "roommate" (even if it was just at our house, or my apartment, or a certain bug-infested hovel that shall remain nameless...), has just proved to me what I learned years ago: my sisters are my favorite roommates of all time, and my best friends.

It's hard to believe she's on her last leg of her undergrad studies. It seems like only yesterday it was her winter break...and she was talking me down when I got stressed out and had a meltdown in the car due to very long weeks of dreaming along with a bunch of characters...trying to cheer me up with a grape Mello Yellow Zero (don't knock it 'til you've tried it!), and making me laugh with her re-enactments of SNL sketches or John Mulaney bits.

She always has a way to make me smile and cheer me up, especially when I'm feeling at my lowest. She is a listening ear and compassionate shoulder to lean on. She has wisdom and insight that is rare to find in someone as young as she is, and it seems that I'm usually the one going to her for advice. :) She can make an ordinary day feel like a day out of a super fun vacation. Not only is she beautiful outside and in, but she makes the world a more beautiful place with her smiles, laughter, and bright-sunny-you-have-to-believe spirit.

I am so very very blessed to have her as one of my very best friends (cue Disney song). I can't wait for the fun times ahead. I love you, Schmoopsie!! And I miss you.

Ordinary greatness & remembering Grandpa

An all-day all-night headache, plus having to get up for work at 4:30am doesn't leave a lot of time for sleeping...but it leaves lots of time for thinking. With the annoyingly persistent throbbing of my head, and the fear of sleeping through my alarm and missing my shift (as I thought I had done yesterday morning until I realized that I had my schedule wrong and my early morning shift is actually THIS morning. I tell you, nothing gets you shaking in your jammies faster than the thought of "I am an HOUR LATE FOR WORK!!!"), it's hard to divert my thoughts. But in the wee small hours of the morning, amidst the pain & anxiety, my mind eventually made it's way to a more pleasant, yet bittersweet thought. 

Today, December 7th, would have been my Grandpa Red's 93rd birthday. He passed away suddenly about seven years ago, and while I miss him throughout the year, it is always at the holiday time that I miss him especially.

Recently, I've been obsessing over reading the works of Brene Brown, and one of the topics she writes about is "Celebrating the Ordinary and Uncool." In her book, "I Thought It Was Just Me," Dr. Brown writes, 

"In our culture, the fear and shame of being ordinary is very real...We seem to measure the value of people's contributions (and sometimes their entire lives) by their level of public recognition. In other words, worth is measured by fame and fortune.
"Our culture is quick to dismiss quiet, ordinary, hardworking men and women. In many instances, we equate ordinary with boring or, even more dangerous, ordinary has become synonymous with meaningless."

My grandfather was proof that an "ordinary" life is NOT boring, and definitely NOT meaningless. In his quiet way, he taught me what's most important in life, and what is the most meaningful. Yet in the world's measure of greatness by how many recognitions, awards, and "Likes" we get on Facebook, my grandfather wouldn't have made the cut.  If he were alive today, how many "Likes" would my grandpa's posts have gotten on Facebook? Probably not very many (assuming he could figure out how to navigate Facebook. He had to have my dad come to "color code" how to use a CD player - which I think is totally fine, btw). However my grandpa was one of the greatest men I'll ever know.

As I think back over all of the simple, ordinary memories I have with him, they are among the ones that mean the most to me in my life: 

• Taking me shopping for Christmases and birthdays. No matter how old I got, he would always ask me if I wanted to go shopping to pick out my gifts. And he was so patient as I meandered from store to store. It is a very patient man that will not only go shopping with a woman, but suggest they go shopping. Our shopping trips would always include a lunch date, too. The lunches were never fancy, but to this day, our dates to McDonald's and Friendly's go down in history as some of my favorite dining-out memories.

• Greeting cards. During one of our shopping trips, I remember stopping in a greeting card shop so that he could pick out a card for someone. We must've spent half an hour and he intently searched, read and deliberated over a card that expressed exactly what was in his heart. Throughout my life I had received dozens of cards from him, and the only thing he ever wrote in them was "Love, Grandpa" with lots of X's and O's. But that day in the card shop I realized that the words provided by the greeting card company weren't just generic words to my grandfather - they were exactly what he wanted to express. After he died,  I remember looking through a scrapbook of all of the cards he'd given to my grandmother - from their courtship, throughout their marriage. Cards that were faded and wearing with age, however to look through them and re-read them was to witness their timeless love.

• Laughing at "Home Alone." No matter how many times he watched it, Grandpa would laugh so hard at the slapstick humor. Every time I watch it, I am reminded of him (and the joy from the simple humor of watching someone get a paint can in the face).

• The Baby Whisperer. My grandfather loved babies - he loved to hold them and walk with them. I think he's the source of the "Baby Whisperer" genes that occasionally show up in my family. Something about the way he walked them would calm them and put them to sleep. Seeing how loving my grandpa was with babies made me wish that I was a 19 year old bride - just so that my babies could've been walked to sleep by him. 

Just so many warm memories....spending time with him after my parents separated, watching him tearfully kiss my grandmother's forehead to say goodbye when she passed away, witnessing how much he loved family and loved life.

My grandfather was one of those people that I knew loved me just because. Not for anything I did or earned, but just because I was his granddaughter. I never had to accomplish any great feat to earn his love - no matter what, I knew that he loved me and was proud of me, as he was of all of his grandchildren and his family. 

Since it's Christmastime, the Muppet Christmas Carol is in my head and playing on my iPod (as usual). One of the songs in the film include these lyrics: 

The love we found we carry with us, so we're never quite alone.

Whenever life gets me down, or feels like it's at its darkest, my grandfather's love is something that I carry with me, helping me to feel that I'm not alone. 

There's another song from that movie that goes, "and if you need to know the measure of a man, you simply count his friends." I don't think the lyrics are referring to the "Friends" on Facebook or in your Google Plus circles, or your networks on Linkedin. It's not people that you haven't spoken to in years, but true friends - people who know the real you, and love and respect you for it. And these "friends" can include those you're related to - your family. By this standard, my grandfather was one of the greatest men I'll ever know. His sweet, meaningful, ordinary life is one that I hope to emulate, that I can leave as loving a legacy as he has left behind.

Happy birthday, Grandpa. I miss you. 

   

   

Thankful

I don't remember how old I was, or when it was exactly, but one Thanksgiving eve my dad told me I should watch the Laurel & Hardy classic March of the Wooden Soldiers (aka "Babes in Toyland") that was showing on a local channel that night. I remember liking it, but looking back I guess it was a little freaky. I mean, look at these pictures - especially the cat. Yikes.

Freaky pigs, cat, Barnaby, and the monkey in a mouse costume (ok, I actually think the mouse is adorable)

(And since we're on the subject, it was only a few years ago that I realized that the Mickey Mouse character was played by a monkey. All I can say is, I want one.)

Best monkey actor ever

It's not like the movie became a Thanksgiving eve tradition at our house. Even though we recorded it, I don't think I ever watched it again. The reason it sticks with me so much is because I remember how I felt when I watched it: excitement, anticipation, contentment, security. The holiday season was here - which meant time with family, traditions, new memories, and of course, good food.

Which brings me to what I'm thankful for the most this Thanksgiving. Believe me, my gratitude journal is already filled with an abundance of blessings, but I am also very, very grateful for memories.

James M. Barrie wrote, "God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December." As I get older, and all of my family gets more spread out, I become more grateful for the gift of memory that still brings them close to me despite the miles and miles between us. So many amazing holiday memories - my brother, my cousins and me making a tape of us singing Christmas songs; me dropping pumpkin pie down my back (in my defense, I was trying to keep it away from my brother); my grandfather bringing chestnuts to roast; my aunt's macaroni pie; watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade and the National Dog Show (with the entertaining commentary by my family). So many memories - some of them so inconsequential. But so dear to my heart.

Maybe it's because it's the holidays and I'm feeling more generous than usual, but I'm also grateful for the less-than-warm-and-fuzzy recollections that I have - the disappointments, heartbreaks, times of trial and loss, loneliness, uncertainty. I don't think I'm yet the person that says, "I'm so grateful for my trials" (because, let's face it, they suck). But as I look at my life and my past, I am grateful for every single minute. Because as excruciating as some of those moments have been and are, they are proof that I'm living my life - that I'm alive. And what a wonderful life it is.

Happy Thanksgiving, world.

Bless Us All

I love the Holiday season, especially Christmas. I always have. Although I'm 30 years old, my dad still loves to tell stories about the 5-year-old (and younger) me that used to be up ALL NIGHT LONG on Christmas Eve, waiting for Christmas morning with all of the excited of a bumblebee on multiple amphetamines. As I got older, I would begin my holiday planning and shopping before most of my other family members - I don't remember when exactly I first uttered the phrase "It's never too early," in regards to getting in the holiday spirit, but I definitely wasn't even a teenager yet. And this excitement for the holiday season hasn't waned with the years.

***Yet-another-one-of-Adele's-Disclaimers: When I say "It's never too early," I am not saying put your Christmas tree up in September. Or play Christmas carols in August (although I have had to bust out *NSYNC's "O Holy Night" in July before. But that's because IT'S JUST THAT GOOD). I just find it works for me to start considering people's Christmas presents in the the fall, or to start listening to Christmas music and watching Holiday movies when Halloween's over (because, really, there are so many great Christmas songs and films, I don't have the time to fully appreciate them in the short span of Black Friday-Christmas Day). 

So while some people might have had a problem starting to Celebrate the Season in October, well, although I had to make sure I got in plenty of viewing time of "Garfield's Halloween Adventure," "It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown," "Double Double Toil and Trouble," and "Hocus Pocus," I was really OK with it. And it may only be the beginning of November, but I am not ashamed to admit that I've already broken the seal and watched Christmas movies. 

This afternoon, I put on a Christmas classic - The Muppet Christmas Carol, and one of the songs stood out to me especially (maybe because it's the Sabbath, and I've been trying to think on the Savior today in general). "Bless Us All" was one of those numbers I used to fast-forward through when I was younger (I regret to say), but I think that's because I didn't take the time to listen to the words.....

Life is full of sweet surprises
Every day's a gift
The sun comes up and i can feel it lift my spirit
Fills me up with laughter, fills me up with song
I look into the eyes of love and know that i belong

Bless us all, who gather here
The loving family i hold dear
No place on earth, compares with home
And every path will bring me back from where i rome
Bless us all, that as we live
We always comfort and forgive
We have so much, that we can share
With those in need we see around us everywhere

Let us always love each other 
Lead us to the light
Let us hear the voice of reason, singing in the night
Let us run from anger and catch us when we fall
Teach us in our dreams and please, yes please
Bless us one and all 

Bless us all with playful years 
With noisy games and joyful tears
We reach for you and we stand tall 
And in our prayers and dreams
We ask you bless us all

We reach for you and we stand tall 
And in our prayers and dreams we ask you 
Bless us all

(Oh, Paul Williams, you are a poet....)

In describing this song, someone once said, "It's like a prayer." That it is. And one of the parts that affects me the most is the line, "We reach for you, and we stand tall. And in our prayers and dreams we ask you, bless us all." How true. When we reach for Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ - whether in our thoughts, in our prayers, in our kindness towards others - we cannot help but stand taller. They lift us above our own imperfections, anxieties, shortcomings, fears, and limitations, to a life that's filled with light, joy, hope, and love - a truly abundant life. 

That's one of the things I love about the Christmas season - this beautiful little reminder.

Just a little buddy tribute

Today is my little sister's birthday. I say "little," but today is actually her TWENTY-FIFTH birthday, so she's actually NOT so little anymore (well, that's not entirely true. She is still "fun-sized", i.e. 4'10", and is petite, and adorable, but she's not freakishly small or anything - like, I can't put her in my pocket like I'm the big baby from "Honey, I Blew Up the Kid" :P). But since she's five-and-a-half years my junior, she'll always be my "little sister" - even when she's the one giving me the advice, comfort and wisdom of someone beyond her years.....

I don't know if she's ever truly allowed herself to believe just how awesome a person she is. Not just awesome, but talented, intelligent, witty, beautiful, courageous, compassionate.....I would run out of words before I could come even remotely close to describing all that she is, and all that she brings to this world simply by being in it.

I'm sure I never told her enough when we were younger just how amazing it was to have her in my life - what can I say, kids are not always the most conscientious about stuff like that. But it was because of her that I became a big sister. I had someone to play with (because I could only force persuade my big brother to play Barbies and house for so many years). Someone to wear matching outfits with. Someone to be my buddy. She was always willing and ecstatic to play with me when all of my "friends" were too busy or forgot about me altogether.

My memories may get foggier over the years, but one sticks out pretty vividly when I think about my sister. I'm not sure how old she was - maybe 3 or 4? I was having a friend sleepover one night, and my mom told Mia that she could stay up with us, and she was so excited. My friend and I went to get ready for bed, or something, and when we came back to the living room to watch our movie, or do whatever it was we had planned to do, there was my little sister, proudly presenting her gift to us - which was on the coffee table. There, she'd set out 3 sandwiches that she'd made all by herself. Ok, so the bread was cinnamon raisin, and she'd piled about a pound of roast beef on each sandwich so that the top slice was barely staying on, but the look on her face was one of pure happiness and delight from being able to surprise us. And it is this sweetness and fun-loving that she's brought to life through the years with her beautiful smile and bright, smiley eyes.

Sisters & Monkeys

She's always been such a creative, capable, compassionate person. She dreams big, laughs often, and smiles with her whole being. She knows what she likes, what she wants, and she doesn't let herself get deterred by fears or critics. And one of the things about her that I admire most - she loves with her whole heart. She is a true, loyal friend, and will be your biggest supporter. (And if anyone messes with you, she's got your back!)

Buddies

So, happy birthday, my dearest sister!!!! I hope you can recognize all that you've accomplished in the past 25 short years. I hope you can see yourself for all the goodness and light you bring to this world. And most of all, I hope you can cherish yourself and feel how cherished you are by those who know you and love you.

"Keep smiling, keep shining"..... I love you forever!