Monday, February 20, 2017


Today I met Megan and Dave and the kids at our local McDonalds. It was recently renovated and has quickly become one of the best spots to let the kids expend some of the limitless energy they possess while still being able to converse. The Robertsons had already arrived and stationed themselves at out usual table in the playroom. There is a glass wall separating the play area from the lucky patrons enjoying their Big Macs and fries in peace and quiet. Little 2 year old Sam was sitting right up against that wall. I thought it would be fun to sneak up to the glass and see how long it took before he saw me on the other side.  When he finally turned my way it was if he looked right through me. His brain just didn't compute that it was me. His face showed no emotion...then slowly he realized it was me. "GRAMMA!", he yelled through the glass.  Recognition turned to joy and then to horror. His eyes filled with fear and he began to cry out, Gramma...gramma. His chubby little hands were pressed to the glass firmly in an attempt to break through the barrier. He looked desperately left and right for help to free his Grandma from the glass cage she was obviously imprisoned by. His mom and dad both chuckled and then tried to comfort him and point out that there was a way around the glass into the room where I was. All hope was not lost. He just cried even louder. He didn't want any alternatives, he needed the glass to move. His Dad finally lifted him up and set him on the floor where he could be directed to a path to get to me. His older sister Kate who had been on the playground finally looked up and spotted me on the other side of the glass. Of course being the sage veteran of walls and openings, she led the way to where I was in an instant with Sam following her lead. I met them both at the corner of where the two rooms met and he ran into my arms with the tears still glistening in his eyes, his smile a sign of the total relief he felt.  Dave and Megan and I laughed at the scene wondering what goes through the mind of a two year old. I jokingly said that this is what it must be like in heaven when one member of the family makes it to the celestial kingdom while the rest languish in the terrestrial world. As I watched Kate and Sam play, I couldn't stop thinking about it and replaying the scene in my mind. It was sweet and touchingand funny and thought provoking. The photographer/videographer in me would have loved to have captured it on film...or whatever we are calling it these digital days. But short of strapping a go pro to my body 24/7 to capture and freeze all that I want it is impossible.  (Don't think that it hasn't crossed my mind)  What I wouldn't give to know all of the many amazing thoughts Sam must have and what the world is like for him. The wonders and joy...but oh the restrictions of only two years of earthly knowledge.

I wonder if  Heavenly Father is amused by my standing at the McDonald glass of my life willing it to stop being a barrier. My chubby hands pressed to the glass in fear and discouragement, willing it to melt away to get to the next room. He must smile that right next to me is another way. A huge entry into whatever room I should be in next. Not places as separate as life or death necessarily, but progression. I think there are far more entrances than glass walls. I take comfort in believing that He knows that my spiritual knowledge is much like Sams earthly knowledge and there will be time for me to learn and grow. Until then I will just remember the great effort Sam expended today to get to me and follow his lead.

Friday, February 17, 2017

Is it enough?

I haven't blogged in a really long time.  
Reasons? Excuses? I have many. 
Blogging was a fad. No one blogs anymore. 
I take pictures. Those will serve as my legacy. The photos will speak for me. 
My thoughts are insignificant. Who would sit and read them anyway?
There is so much out there written. So many words to read. I already waste enough time on the internet.
I am mediocre at writing. Why do I keep trying things only to find that I am just average. Nothing special or extraordinary.
I'm lazy. That's okay that I am lazy. I am a grandma for pete's sake. I can just sit back on the proverbial rocker of like and watch the next generation rule the net.

That's me in the picture above. The flat shadowy figure watching...documenting a moment that I won't forget....
We have been driving all day. Since 5 o clock that morning Todd, Megan, Dave, 4 year old Kate and 1 year old Sam and myself all cocooned in a red van filled with snacks and toys and laughter sprinkled with mere minutes of sleep and a whole lot of crying. We are on our way to meet with my other children and their families in Colorado. I have rented a cabin midway between the Utah and Houston contingents. I have hopes for 5 days of having all of these precious people in one place...basking in the chaotic sweetness.  But for now we are still trying to get out of Texas. Why in the world did they make this state so big. It literally goes on for miles and I think that it would do us all good to feel as if the hours of endless highway gave way to a border. A tangible marker that we will be able to complete this journey.  Sam who is usually a champion napper has spent the afternoon alternately struggling and screaming to "geete ou" and closing his eyes and falling asleep for 5 minutes, only to dash our hopes that it is going to be longer. We have made frequent stops for the kids to stretch their legs but it is usually in some dirty gas station where we keep blurting out, "Don't touch that!" We needed a real stop. Somewhere that we all could regain hope that we could do this thing. That we would make it out of Texas someday. 
And so on the outskirts of Amarillo in the sea of corn rows, we found our salvation. 
Cadillac Stonehenge.
A row of now just car carcasses that were planted in the ground to resemble Stonehenge. A whimsical spray painted pile of junk. It was perfect.
We watched the sun drop low in the sky while Kate and Sam did what their little bodies had been telling them to do all day. Walk...Run...and play.
We could do this thing.
We would make it across that border to the promised land of Colorado.

I think I did an adequate job documenting through pictures that moment in time. I think you can see the joy in their little bodies and the beauty of the flat never ending corners of a state that I have grown to love and call home.
But what I think I want to accompany those pictures is my words.
For Kate and for Sam. For Megan and for Dave and Todd.
And most importantly for me. I need to remember that in this day of awards and trophies and likes and internet popularity contests that I really write for me.
And that wiping tears from my cheeks as I put into words this moment in time is the reward.
And that is enough.