The Circle of Life

Sometimes they just hit you. Life lessons. When you least expect them, they sneak up and snap you out of whatever good or bad routine you’ve got going.

This morning we had some excitement at work. Michael Buble joined the team for the morning. He also brought some family members—including a half-year-old babe.

It was an interesting way to start the day. There was this little guy so dependent on his dad for care. His dad dutifully and happily catered to his every need. Without a thanks or any real compensation except maybe the baby’s fussing stopping.

Just hours removed from that exchange I got to see the other end of the spectrum. I was able to join a number of young girls from my church at a care home as we caroled Christmas songs.

I was really taken aback at how dependent these elderly people were. How their independence had been stripped with age. As powerful, wise, able-bodied and sociable they’d been the majority of their lives, those days were over. Time had erased those qualities. The markings of age left many of them incoherent, crippled, powerless and strangely alone in a crowd.

As harsh as it seems, the care home was full of them. These hollow remains of once productive and fully functioning men and women. I thought of myself now. Before the years have caught up to me. I can have a two-way conversation. I can pick myself out of a chair and walk, run, bend—and not break.

When these dear, elderly people spoke tonight it was unadulterated speech. Pure, innocent and honest words. Not all of them made sense but I knew they were genuine and grateful. The simplest utterances I could understand: Merry Christmas.

The years, age, disease and illness hadn’t stripped away their Christmas spirit. I saw a trend of innocence in the two ends of life’s spectrum. The two times when one’s reigning traits are naïve, trusting, dependent and pure.

Whether straight from Heaven or knocking on Heaven’s door there are commonalities. We must rely on love to survive. Parents, caretakers, family and friends all help us through those most humble stages of life.

I am in awe of every mother and father, guardian and grandparent who ceaselessly cares for babies through infancy and into childhood. Each baby’s arrival in school years is a great miracle of love, charity and endurance. I can’t imagine where I would be without loving and charitable parents who tended to my needs. Night after thankless night.

For those with little ones, I commend you. You are building the future. You are making a difference.

I am also greatly inspired by those who care for strangers and loved ones in the final stages of life. Whether due to illness or age, the care it takes in those final stages is taxing and often unheralded.

For you angels on earth who tend to the needs of the age-stricken and those at end of life, thank you. You are true heroes.

What's my line?

Don't tell my boss but today at work I had a non-work related conversation. We were talking about America's Next Top Model--one of my (many) guilty pleasures. My colleague had stocked up a few episodes worth of this All-Star cycle on her PVR and hadn't had a chance to watch them yet. She said she'd found out who got the boot so didn't really feel as inclined to watch the episodes anymore.

I totally get that. It's like the time I taped a Canucks playoff game in 2004. It was a Sunday and I'd decided earlier that year that I would no longer break my understanding of the Sabbath law to watch sports or TV on Sunday. I sat in my room and read scriptures (distractedly) while my roommates watched the game that I was taping (on VHS no less). By their yells and cheers throughout the game, I could tell we were scoring and by their reaction at the end of the game, I could tell we had won. I never watched that taped game. I already knew the ending.

I can't count the number of times I wished I knew the beginning, middle and ending of my life's 'tape'. It seemed like whenever a big decision came along I'd long the most for a run-through of my life's script. Where to go to school? What to study? Who to date? Who to marry? Who not to marry? Where to work? And the list goes on. I didn't want to make the wrong decision so I wanted to see where my decisions would take me before making them. I didn't want to say the wrong thing so I wanted someone to feed me a line.

I still do feel that way sometimes. I wish there was a script or tape of the way my life should unfold. When to have kids? Where to raise them? How to raise them? Stay at home or put them in childcare?

Then there will be when to retire? Where to retire? Serve a couple's mission? How many missions?

All life's questions could be answered with that one tape!

But where's the fun in that? As much as I hate the screw ups, I sure have learned a lot from them. I'm definitely not a fan of the down times, but the things I've gained I wouldn't give up for anything.

I get what my co-worker was saying. Once you know the ending, the appeal of putting in the time and slogging through the whole 'episode' just loses its appeal. Sure, I still want to see that tape but by then I hope it's more of a home video--something I can watch nostalgically with recollection after recollection. Not now, long before it's played itself out in real time. I wouldn't want to ruin the ending.

A perfect view...

Recently I learned that an acquaintance of mine is terminally ill with cancer. At first, second and third glance I never would have guessed it. I’ve seen the swollen pallor of a face stricken with cancer and its ‘treatments’. This was not the face of a typical victim of cancer.

It’s not the only time my eye and perception have deceived me. The charismatic young man brimming with life, who carried a burden of mental illness. The beautiful young woman with so much to offer, who feigned self-confidence every day while internally self-loathing. That darned, ridiculously hot pepper in the Vegas restaurant that looked so much like a green bean that I ate it, while sitting between the Vigneault and Kesler families.

Yeah, that keen eye of mine has betrayed me on more than a few occasions. And I know I haven’t seen the end of it.

How many times do I think I see something a certain way when really it’s not that way at all? Yep, I have definitely had my view obscured by those ruddy beams that skew many a person’s vision and judgments.

I guess that’s another reason we shouldn’t judge others. And why we shouldn’t be too harsh when we do. As much as I think I have all the pieces, I don’t and won’t. Probably ever.

When my mom got remarried I didn’t give my blessing. The first day she met Bob (my step dad), she came home and had one of my sisters get my grandma’s old engagement ring and bring it to her so she could convince me she’d gotten engaged on her first date. I forgot that her first date happened to fall on April Fool’s day and was livid.

Though I knew my parents were never right for reconciliation, I also knew my parents weren’t right for anybody else but each other. I was 15 and knew everything.

When my mom really did get engaged early that July, she came to my church’s Girls Camp to tell me. I could never forgive her for ruining the best week of my summer—my getaway—with that awful news.

When they announced their wedding date for that February I reminded my mom over and over again of a conversation we’d had that April 1^st. In an attempt to curb my rage for her ‘engaged prank’ my mom had promised that I had nothing to worry about because there was no way she would even consider marriage until she’d had a year to get to know a potential husband and more importantly for me—step dad.

I think I kept reminding my mom of that conversation for the next two years I lived at home and many times after leaving home. It wasn’t until I’d found love, lost it, and found it again that I began to be able to see just a glimpse of what my mom had been experiencing. Even then, I could never know what it was like to live single for six years, working full-time and raising five kids. I couldn’t know what it was like to finally find someone who seemed the perfect fit. I wouldn’t want to wait either. I didn’t when I found Sterling.

So I got a dose of perception there. And many more since. I hope they keep coming. I hope one day I have eyes that can see much more than their current narrow view. In a perfect world, they’ll accentuate the good and overlook the bad.

I know there are so many things I haven’t seen and worse, haven’t acknowledged. So many things my husband, parents, family, friends, work colleagues, roommates, teachers—and so many others—have done for me. If you’re reading this and you’ve been awesome to me or anyone, thank you. If you’re working on being awesomer, that makes two of us. Good luck to us both.

What if...?

When I was a Scroll editor at BYU-Idaho part of my job was coming up with headlines. I hated that part. I still do. If you can't tell, I've never been very good at expressing myself in few words. How can you take a full story and break it down to one sentence? Maybe two if you're lucky.

Oftentimes I would listen to music while editing, writing, or just shooting the breeze in the Scroll office. Those songs would be my title inspiration nine times out of 10.

A few years removed from those days and still, songs often prove to be my inspiration. This weekend, my cousins reminded me of Joan Osborne's song "One of Us". What if God was one of us....got me thinking 'what if'?

In 2007.08 I was so blessed to land the internship of my dreams. I spent the year learning from some great minds and gaining some great experiences with my all-time favourite team, the Vancouver Canucks. Just a couple of weeks out from playoffs, we were poised for first in our division and it looked like my return to University would be put off yet another semester as I worked through the playoffs to finish my internship. I never wanted it to end so a long run into spring was more than okay with me. What if they went all the way...?

With that hope, the Canucks did the seemingly impossible. They tanked the last two weeks of the season, losing seven of eight to fall out of playoff contention.

Just like that, I was packing my car and driving to Rexburg. I wanted to be anywhere but that podunk college town. Well, that's not true. I wanted to be in the playoffs with the Canucks.

Alas, I got back to school and had one of the best semesters ever. I met some incredible friends--Freeze, Kimbo, Sammi, Home Skillet and Hurricane. I also went through the interview process and was offered a part-time position with the Canucks to start the 2008.09 season.

I was one semester away from graduation but decided I'd defer graduation at least a semester and aim to graduate in the summer of 2009. That season, the guys played their way into the playoffs. After sweeping the St. Louis Blues and winning Game 1 of the second round, I started thinking..what if THIS was the year? Ironically, I actually really, really wanted to go back to Rexburg this time. Not only to finish my degree but also to live with some of my favourite people in the world. I had the opportunity to handpick my living situation for the first time in my university experience and had five roommates waiting for the hockey season to wrap up. What if the team went so far into the playoffs, I couldn't go back to Rexburg? I wrestled with the pros and cons. For the time being, I had an awesome prof who allowed me to do my work online until the hockey season ended. I think I took the other classes online and was planning on picking up a full course load by adding second block classes (thank you BYU-I).

But what if my best laid plans fell flat again?

It was a road game. The Canucks lost, badly, in Chicago and I turned to my aunt and uncle and said, guess I better start packing. That was on a Monday and I had my first mid-term on Friday. I settled things up with the Canucks and left for Rexburg Thursday after work. I drove all night, stopping for a quick nap in Spokane at my friend Aaron's parents' place and rolled into Rexburg just in time for class. Thankfully my prof gave me a pass and said I could do my exam early the following week.

I never got a key to Albion House. Funny, my dream house (so far) and I never even had a key to it. I didn't need one. First of all, it was Rexburg. Second of all, I knew I'd always either be home or with my roommates so could just use theirs. As planned, it turned out to be the best semester ever.

I was so glad to be living with that group of girls. Wendizzle was going through a rough time but she'd been there for me so many times, I was glad to be able to at least be in proximity if she needed someone to talk to. Kyla and Coxy, two of my former basketball teammates, were awesome roommates. Incredible teammates on the court and wicked roommates off it. Kimbo was the best engaged roommate I could have asked for (JNet was pretty stellar too back in the day) and always good for laughs. Then there was Home Skillet. Always game for adventure. We had so many good times. I know that's not all university's about but knowing I was moving fully into the work place shortly after, that's what I wanted that semester to be about (my poor GPA...).

The semester went along and before I knew it, I was a month out from graduating. It would be hard to say goodbye to BYU-I but boy had that school been good to me. My only regret was not winning a basketball championship. I'd come to terms with the fact that I'd be leaving with my B.A. and not my M.R.S.

So basketball season wrapped up and my roomies talked me into something they'd been doing all semester--playing basketball with our Family Home Evening brothers. I'd said no all season because I had 'real ball' to play. So what if I said yes? It'd be fun.

I'd met him my first weekend in Rexburg that May but never really took notice until that Monday night basketball scrimmage. The FHE brother whose name I struggled to remember--Sterling. He had game on and off the court and I was quickly caught up in it.

I knew that time was against us but figured I'd have fun with it. I got that impression from him--he guaranteed fun. So what if things don't work out? At least I'd had fun.

But they did work out. They've been working out ever since. Sterling has become so much more to me than I ever thought anybody could be. My life mate, best friend, confidante and lover.

We're coming up on our two year anniversary and while it feels like just yesterday I was intentionally fouling him just to be close on the basketball court...it also feels like I've known him forever. Like eternity stretches forward and backwards with us.

And to think...what if the Canucks had ended their Stanley Cup drought that summer? What if I hadn't been so set on living with those girls in that house? What if Sterling hadn't transferred from Colorado State to BYU-I while still taking CSU classes? What if he hadn't moved into the apartment that was in my ward's boundaries? What if I never said yes to playing basketball that night? What if...?

Don’t curse the parking lot

As a kid, the song “Big Yellow Taxi” struck a chord with me. Maybe it’s strange but I feel like I’ve always carried a deep appreciation for what I have because I’ve also carried the feeling that it could be taken away at any time.

Those early years when Joni Mitchell’s words of wisdom resonated with me I was conversely confused by the saying “if you love someone let them go.” I think my mom used that on me when I wanted to keep my pet caterpillars in the house. At any rate, I remember thinking I much preferred playing with my caterpillars and showing my love that way rather than letting them go into the world.

My view of caterpillars changed after an unfortunate experience in the woods. I had been helping my uncle forage for all sorts of plants and herbs in the woods in Victoria. We’d driven his jeep out to the woods and after returning home, somebody in my family (I’ve blocked out the exact events) told me I had caterpillars in my ear. Sure enough, it turns out I’d walked into a nest of caterpillars or something and they’d relocated to my ear.

I digress. My view of caterpillars has changed but my view on not taking things for granted hasn’t. My life experiences have continually reaffirmed these feelings.

In my teenage years, boy did I long to get away. I would dream every night of making it big with one of my bands (4-eva..can’t believe we didn’t make it). If not music, I dreamed of playing NCAA field hockey for Duke or the Tar Heels. When I graduated, plans shifted but they still involved getting away. Calgary, AB, seemed like the best fit. A big city with lots of Mormons. And better yet. I’d be moving out there with my best friends.

Since it was our first time really away from home, our parents came out to see us off. It was a disaster at first. Kristy, Lisa and I were all living in different places. Lisa and Kris in the new residence buildings and I was stuck in some trashy, OLD residence. Thankfully my dad put his foot down and managed to work with the other parents to get us all in the same place.

It seemed like the transition would be easy. I was realizing my dream of leaving home while still having the luxury of spending most waking moments with my BFFs. The instant my mom’s van pulled away, the tears came. My friends and I consoled each other. I was surprised by my reaction. Despite my belief that you should never take anything for granted, I’d completely taken my family for granted.

Maybe it’s a rite of passage. Most teenagers probably prefer their parents have little to do with them. I imagine many of us eventually go through that same rude awakening either through change or tragedy.

That’s just one of many experiences I’ve had: realizing that against my best intentions, I’d started taking someone or something for granted. Sometimes it’s something really important, like family. Sometimes it’s something as simple as hot water when I turn on the tap.

There are so many things I have to be grateful for. So many things I can take for granted with too much ease. This has been on my mind a lot lately.

So I guess this ramble amounts to me putting in print my resolve to not take things for granted. I’ll try to treasure the moment. The magic. The mundane. I know I’ll disregard something without even trying but nobody’s perfect. Even I won’t take that for granted.

Late nights, early mornings

I don't know how many Emerson Drive fans there are out there but one of their songs is often on repeat in my head...especially late at night...it goes something like "I should be sleeping, 'stead of keeping these late hours I've been keeping".

And still, I don't let myself fall asleep until the clock's at least turned to tomorrow. I'm positive I'll regret not sleeping more now, when we have kids. I'll look back at these nights of opportunity and curse my foolishness. If only you could stock up on sleep. My early teens would have set me at least for my first year of University.

This week, there was a lot going on. There were three hockey games in five days, a concert I briefly worked at and a night of laundry and my favourite show, Criminal Minds. Thankfully I didn't have a hockey game to play in this week or else it really would have been a crazy week.

In the midst of the craziness, I did find time to dream. In my sleep too, no less. Twice this week I dreamed of some of my favourite people in the world (yes, I mean you and a few other people...). The first dream I was back in Rexburg, ID, and came across the apartment of real-life former roommates Kristy (Symes now), Lisa (Smith now) and Wendy (Plummer now) as well as a dear friend, Annamieke. Sterling and I somehow got separated and as I was wandering the streets to find him, I stumbled across their apartment.

I just remember feeling so happy to see them. I knew a lot had changed but at the core, we were still dear friends. At some point there was also a yellow lab cameo in my dream, which made it that much cooler.

I essentially dreamed of the same 'cast' of characters (yellow lab included) the following night and again awoke with a sense of nostalgia and great love and appreciation for the amazing friends I've been blessed with in my life. I don't know what those back-to-back dreams mean, if anything. Probably that I miss my friends and should see them soon. I'll buy that.

For now..sweet dreams. Hopefully that familiar crew comes for a visit again tonight. Until we meet again.

Hi, my name is....

When I was in a high school a new rapper on the scene released the song “My Name Is.” The lyrics got dirtier by verse (thank goodness for radio edits) but man did it have a catchy hook. In more or less words, he told the world his name was Slim Shady.

Funny thing is, over a decade later and that guy is better known as Eminem. As far as I can remember, he’s always been better known as Eminem in the music industry.

The reason that I bring this up is that lately there’s been some debate in the U.S. about ‘Mormons’ (members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) and whether or not they can call themselves Christians.

I just googled the definition of Christian and the first hit was:

A person who has received Christian baptism or is a believer in Jesus Christ and his teachings.

I was raised as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and can say I’m definitely a believer in Jesus Christ and His teachings. I am so far from perfect but I believe in Christ, I love my Savior and I know that He paid the ultimate price so that I might one day have the chance to return to my Heavenly Father. I’ve read the teachings of Christ in the Old Testament, New Testament and Book of Mormon since I was a little munchkin so yes, I believe I fit in the definition of being a Christian.

Really though, what does it matter? Protestant, Baptist, Catholic, Mormon—these terms that define a different type of Christian. We all believe in our Savior. Sure sometimes we have different approaches but at the heart of it, we all believe in Jesus Christ.

Every Sunday as I’ve taken the Sacrament this year, I’ve made it a habit to read out of the New Testament. Today I happened to be in Mark in Chapter 9 where it read:

38 ¶And John answered him, saying, Master, we saw one ^acasting out devils in thy name, and he followeth not us: and we forbad him, because he followeth not us.

39 But Jesus said, Forbid him not: for there is no man which shall do a ^amiracle in my ^bname, that can lightly speak evil of me.

40 For he that is not against us is ^aon our part.

41 For whosoever shall give you a cup of water to drink in my name, because ye belong to Christ, verily I say unto you, he shall not ^alose his ^breward.

John, a beloved apostle of Jesus Christ, shared a legitimate concern of his to the Savior. Somebody was claiming to be performing miracles in the name of Jesus Christ. This person was not one of Christ’s twelve apostles and didn’t follow them so John felt he shouldn’t be using the Savior’s name to perform miracles.

The Savior clarified then what I believe now. If they’re not against us, they’re with us.

Joseph Smith outlined our beliefs in 1842 in a letter to John Wentworth, a newspaper editor, and I believe that what he said then rings true today. In this case, it’s the 11^th Article of Faith that applies here:

We claim the privilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege, let them worship how, where, or what they may.

I have great respect for anyone who believes in something. I have greater respect for those who believe in something that helps them want to be better, kinder and more charitable every day—and they actually live it.

What I don’t respect is people trying to put others down for their beliefs. Whether in middle school or religion, it’s never right to blow out another’s candle so yours might grow brighter.

Last week, a religious figure in the U.S. called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints a cult. That’s not the first I’ve heard that term used in association with my religion and it probably won’t be the last. To be honest, it doesn’t offend me.

Thanks to another google search, I just found this top hit for the definition of cult:

1. A system of religious veneration and devotion directed toward a particular figure or object.
2. A relatively small group of people having religious beliefs or practices regarded by others as strange or sinister.

Um..yeah..I have extreme respect for God and Jesus Christ for that matter. Do they qualify as ‘figures’? For that second part of the definition…does more than 10 million qualify as a small group?

Call me a Mormon, a Latter-day Saint, a member of a cult. Who cares? I believe in Jesus Christ. I know who I am. I know God’s plan. I’ll follow Him in faith.

Marshall Mathers called himself Slim Shady, Eminem and even Jimmy ‘B-Rabbit’ Smith (well, he played him in a movie—loosely based on his own life). Either way he was still a skinny, white rapper from Detroit. What’s in a name?

I can only imagine...

Do you ever stop to wonder, is this my life? As a teen I wrote a song that starts with that line. As I’ve grown older, I’ve thought more and more about it. Sometimes I do—stop to wonder. Somehow I think I’m not the only one.

Recently a friend of mine has gone through a divorce. I remember one day that friend told me they never imagined their life turning out like this. I’d like to think nobody approaches any marriage thinking it will end in divorce. I think there are probably many things we don’t ever imagine experiencing.

I’ve been mulling over this idea for months now. I never imagined my life being like this. In a million years I couldn’t have imagined myself being so blessed. I have an amazing husband who loves me so completely and is a better man than I ever thought I could find or deserve. I have a full-time job in an industry that has captivated me for most of my life and it has allowed Sterling and I to live comfortably despite him not being able to work while we wait for his paperwork to be finalized. I have some tremendous friends I know I could count on for anything whether it’s help battling a crisis or tackling an adventure. I speak to and/or see my parents regularly and as the years have passed, I’ve finally recognized how much of a blessing that is. My body isn’t perfect but it allows me to go for runs with my husband and play sports regularly. I know that’s a huge blessing just to have an able body. I battled with my body much of my life but think I’m finally coming to terms with the extra weight it likes to carry. It lets me run, skate, eat, breathe and wrap my arms around my loved ones. For that, I am grateful.

I really do feel so blessed. I’m afraid of coming across as a braggart but would be remiss to not openly express my gratitude for the blessings I know my loving Heavenly Father has given me. I don’t for a second take any of it for granted. I know life can get hard. Really hard. I’ve been blessed to see that up close and personally and am even more blessed to have made it through and learned from those hard experiences.

I’ve also been in close proximity of dear friends and loved ones going through really hard experiences. Sometimes I think it’s harder to watch a loved one get blindsided by a hard time than to go through it firsthand.

And that’s life. Whether it’s vicarious or firsthand, we’re here to gain experience and in turn, experience joy. Sometimes the road to the latter can just feel too long and full of obstacles though.

This is my life. I have an idea of where I want it to go but know that there are other factors that can steer it in different directions. I’ll keep making goals and choices to try to lead to the life I’d like to have but know full and well that when we least expect it, life can turn out so different than we ever imagined. And sometimes that’s the greatest blessing of all.

You were always on my mind....

Lately I’ve been trying to wrap my head around mental illness. Ironic, I know. Something that exists in that small, wonderful but at times troubled space for so many, I thankfully cannot comprehend.

Life’s been a challenge at times. Certainly there have been ups and downs. I cannot think of a time that a darkness has consumed me though. Self hatred and doubt have come to call in my life but never hung around.

For that I feel blessed.

I have family members who have battled mental illness and I admit at times I’ve approached it with ignorance rather than acceptance. Maybe it’s a protective mechanism. If I don’t acknowledge or embrace that part of them, it won’t be there. But it is. And it will be there. Whether we talk about it or talk around it.

I remember in my final semester of university taking Adult Psychology. One of the subjects we spent some time on was depression and mental illness in adults. My professor was of the school of thought that depression was highly over diagnosed. He prescribed to the idea that from his experience as a counselor, his patients seeking help to overcome depression needed to find balance in their diet, exercise routine, sleep patterns and charitable efforts. He felt that the presence of those four variables in balance would help alleviate depression.

Seems simple. I don’t think it is. If it was that cut and dry, I don’t believe I’d be writing this, mulling over the monsters of mental illness. Were it that simple, I don’t think people with seemingly so much promise would fall so far they felt their only out was escaping mortality.

In the last month I’ve spent a significant amount of time reading about mental illness. Hearing the accounts of those who have battled it. I still don’t understand it but think I’m getting closer.

I think that’s a start. I found from some readings on my church’s web site that the biggest thing loved ones of those battling depression and mental illness can do is love, support and don’t judge. I cringe as I recall times I’ve thought “Why can’t they just snap out of it?” Because there is no magic switch. Not yet at least.

The best line I’ve found is in an article I read on lds.org. It sums up the ‘snap out of it’ approach. We wouldn’t say that to a cancer patient. Likewise we shouldn’t apply it to those suffering mental illnesses. Like with cancer, there are treatments and approaches to overcoming depression and mental illness but there’s no cure. Yet.

From what I’ve read, depression brings a feeling of hopelessness. There is a never-ending search for self-blame. Those who suffer may seem to have a world of opportunity before them but they’re stuck trying to look behind and find a reason for the hurt that surrounds them.

That darkness. I can’t imagine it. Seeking for a truth that doesn’t exist must be exhausting. Damaging sometimes beyond repair. Is it because we’re of a society of justice—an eye for and eye? A felon deserves jail time because they broke the law. A person suffering through mental illness tries to justify their agony for some past wrong. But there isn’t one. Nobody deserves that cloud of despair as a constant companion.

Shamefully I’ve tried to find reasons too. They’re feeling that way because they did this or that. This train of thought needs to end. The more we, as a whole, seek to understand and empathize the better off everyone will be. Why waste energy seeking someone or something to place the blame? Spend energy learning to be patient, loving and supportive.

It’s easy to say but I know I fall into the trappings of just wanting happiness to be the presiding authority in the lives of all those I love. It can be, I believe. With time, I believe those far more gifted than I will find the right medications to help repair chemical imbalances and other factors that help result in mental illness. Support systems will be more supportive and less cynical. Maybe one day we’ll get to the point where we can look back at mental illness because we once took the time to look it in the face.

Until that day, I hope to employ a thought that is as powerful to me today as it was when I first heard it as a teenager: look for the good in others rather than seeking out the bad. We don’t know the inner workings of our neighbors. Don’t be quick to judge but be fast to love.

The same man who taught me that also said: “Do not be discouraged because you cannot learn all at once; learn one thing at a time, learn it well, and treasure it up, then learn another truth and treasure that up.”

I don’t understand depression or most mental illnesses. I want to though. I want the pain and suffering of so many to end. So I’ll learn one thing at a time and hope others will join the crusade so that one day we can look back at those monsters, and ahead to full lives of realized opportunities.

Wake me up...when September ends.

Ever since Green Day came out with that single, it's been a mainstay in my transitioning from my favourite season--summer--to my least favourite season--fall. Maybe it's because my entire life September has meant heightened workloads and in turn, stress. From 1989-2002 it was school. Then when I started university in 2003 it was more school. Naturally, I started working towards being a teacher--couldn't stay away from the fall blahs. Then I ended up at a job that CRUSHES you in September. Glutton for punishment I guess.

I think the hardest part about fall in the Northwest is getting used to more darkness and rain. Not a fan of either...

This fall I've tried to make the best of it. Taylor Swift coming to Vancouver didn't hurt. Me and my good friend Michelle got tickets and had the best time! We had really good seats and Taylor put on a great show.




That whole week was pretty great. Sterling had been out of town at his younger brother's wedding the previous weekend--Labour Day weekend. While he was in South Carolina, I stayed home to soak up as much sun as possible while I did some work from home. I wish I'd been able to make it to South Carolina but was so glad Sterling got to see his brothers and parents. And meet his new sister Amy!





Speaking of sisters named Amy...the Monday after Sterling got back, my sister Amy and her family came over to Vancouver. Cousins from California also happened to be in town so we all got together for a barbecue at Auntie Jan and Uncle Al's. Such a great night! The big kids (me, Sterling and our cousin Andrea) got in some trampoline action with the little ones (Josh, Avalayne, Jade and Elizabeth).



We had good food and great company. I'm always reminded of how much I love my family when I spend time with them. I remember as a kid discussing adulthood with my cousin Leanne. We didn't understand how our parents didn't spend any time with their cousins. Much of our childhood summers were spent together. We would often talk about how we wouldn't let that change. So far we've done pretty well at staying in touch. Sterling and I love hanging out with Leanne and her family. It's always a treat when her husband Mike gets time off work to come up to Canada for games and good times. One of our favourite games, Rook, is great at bringing family together (although sometimes it pulls us apart).

We love hanging out with all of our cousins. Later in that week we had an awesome time playing games with our cousins Jeff and Heleena while they visited from California. It's such a treat any time Heleena's around. She's awesome and always down for a good games night and has perfected Grammie's recipe for Lazy Daisy cake.

I can't imagine life without my family. We're all different yet share some key commonalities. One of the common threads I find is a love for competition. I think we come by it naturally. I remember as a kid loving the back closet at Grammie's house. It was packed to the brim with boardgames. During the day us cousins would play those games--Sorry, Clue, Ratrace, Monopoly and more. At night, the adults would pull out Rook. I never understood the game or the appeal as a kid. My how things have changed.

I hope we can continue that tradition of wholesome fun with our own kids. Time will tell.

Summer Lovin'

September is here. It's hard to believe that 'summer' flew by so fast. Summer--I hardly knew you! Weather has been a major topic of discussion since June here in the Northwest...mostly because sunshine and somewhat hot temperatures uncharacteristically never really made an appearance.

Thankfully there were moments of summer though..like on my little sister's wedding day. Her wedding was outside and Sterling and I were in the wedding party. So grateful it was sunny but not too hot.

That same weekend we got to spend some time with some dear friends. We had dinner with our friends Annamieke and Aaron. They actually rode some sweet cruisers down to the restaurant and kindly let us take a ride around the streets of downtown Duncan, BC. We love hanging out with Mieke and Aaron and wish the visits weren't so few and far between.




Aaron and Sterling actually raced us home afterwards. They took the bikes. We took the car. We only beat them by about a minute. Those were some wheels! After the bike ride, another friend, Kristy, met up with us even though she'd had a crazy long week. We all walked/rode (only two bikes) to Wal Mart for snacks. It almost felt like we were back in middle school all over again. It sure was great to see them and play cards and chat into the wee hours of the morning. What wasn't so cool was getting to my mom's and being locked out after. Nobody answered our knocks so we just drove right to the ferry to head back to Vancouver..at 3 a.m.

The following weekend we planned to return to Vancouver Island for more adventures. Unfortunately we weren't the only ones with that plan. There were crazy sailing waits. So we decided to go on our own adventure on the mainland...

We paddled from Pitt Meadows to Widgeon Creek Campsite. We saw a ton of herons along the way. It was a really pretty paddle. We ended up meeting a really nice newlywed couple once we got to the campsite--Sean and Chantel. They were the only ones there when we arrived and we found out they didn't have any firewood. We'd brought a bundle so when it came time to make a fire we asked if they wanted to join us. We ended up chatting until 2 a.m. Who knows if we'll ever see them again but we sure had a great night shooting the breeze.




After a late night we woke up to hike to a nearby waterfall. The bugs were incredible! We ended up running most of the way there and back just to avoid the pestering black flies. Once we got there, Sterling bravely made his way to the top of the falls. It was a great trip!




That was sort of our last hoorah for the summer before life got back to 'normal'. In all our adventures we hadn't been able to spend too much time with our good friends, the Johnsons. We quickly rectified that on the Monday. The four of us got together and went out for some Chinese food. The real adventure started after when Michelle and I made a blueberry pie. Michelle made the best crust I've ever had (sorry Grammie)! Afterwards she admitted it was her first pie. Thanks to cooking shows I guess!


As we waited for the pie to bake, we all played a game of Rook--girls against boys. The very first hand, the boys pulled off an amazing 300 hand. That means they didn't lose a single trick the entire hand. Michelle and I were a little suspicious because the boys had dealt while we were finishing up in the kitchen. Brandon had the best hand I'd ever seen (sorry Leanne). Apparently they didn't rig it though.

Michelle and I pulled off a huge comeback though and ended up winning the game. In the very last hand, Sterling thought he had us. He played a card he thought would win but Michelle actually had a better card. After the game was over and we'd won, Sterling recounted how he'd been feeling when he played that card. He even had a victory dance ready for the moment--he showed it to us after.



The next night, Sterling and I went to the Josh Groban concert at Rogers Arena. I was able to get four tickets and invited our cousin Michelle to come. We had a great time. Sterling had to come late because he had a church meeting but we both got to see one of our favourite songs "You Raise Me Up". Josh Groban was really funny--self described as neurotic. He spoke so fast and was quite witty. Sterling especially loved that when asked what he would choose as his life's theme song he said the song from Star Wars. It was the perfect end to a great summer!

The Miracle of the Dolphins

Today Sterling and I got up at the crack of dawn partially with a purpose and partially because of Sterling’s active dreaming. For the first time in our married life, Sterling’s night visions led to him physically hitting me. First he kicked me just after 2 a.m. then just before 6 a.m. he punched me in the arm and slapped me in the mouth simultaneously. Turns out that’s what happens when he dreams he’s playing basketball. Or maybe he was just so excited about the upcoming day’s events. We’d booked a snorkeling trip for one of our last days in Hawaii and that day had finally arrived.

We were staying in Kihei and had to travel to a nearby town to where the boat would launch. By 8:30 a.m. we were enjoying continental breakfast on the high seas. Within a half hour we moored at Molokini., the top of a partially submerged volcanic crater. That’s when the fun really began. The reefs offered a plethora of sea creatures.

The friendliest, the black triggerfish, swam right up to our masks. Thankfully an infant shark didn’t show the same fortitude. When I spotted it I naturally called Sterling’s attention to it then followed it until it disappeared from view. Seemed like the smart thing to do after watching hours of “Shark Week” on Discovery Channel. If I learned anything in my invested time it was that sharks don’t actually want to hurt humans. Although Soul Surfer led me to believe otherwise.

At any rate, we survived the close encounter with the shark and took in the colorful medley of coral, urchins, eels and more fish than Pike Place. After an hour sailed by, we were summoned back to the boat. On to the next adventure. Unfortunately for Sterling, the trip was less than enjoyable. Early in our snorkeling expedition he’d somehow inhaled a ton of sea water (his least favourite flavour at the best of times). Apparently that experience lingered as his face washed white within minutes of us getting back on the boat.

If anybody knows me, they know I HATE puking. Hate it. If someone around me says they feel sick, I automatically become Mrs. Fix-It. I’ve done a lot of research on how to alleviate nausea because for years, I refused to throw up. It became something of a skill albeit ridiculous (just ask my Mom or Grammie).

Anyways, we gave up our seats down below and spent the duration of the hour and a half trip on the upper deck. I spent the majority of our trip scanning the seas for any sign of dolphins we’d been assured would be there. Anything to distract me from my sick husband. Thankfully, Sterling never lost his lunch, in fact he kept new food down. Needless to say though, by the time we got to Lanai (Lan-ay-ee) we were both eager to get out of the boat and into the water.

Immediately Sterling and I broke away from the group (there were about 125 fellow snorkelers onboard). We were rewarded for our initiative. We came across a massive school of yellow angelfish and coasted along with them until a rainbow fish caught our fancy. This continued for the next hour then it was time to head out again. Thankfully this time though Sterling hadn’t recently inhaled a lungful of sea water.

We headed out and this time I was eager to get us up on the top deck again. First of all, a woman right next to our seats had a clear plastic bag on her lap for her bout with sea sickness, and secondly, we hadn’t seen any dolphins yet.

Settled in for the hour and a half leg of our return trip, I strained for any sign of a dorsal fin or splashing in the distance. Every white cap got my heart racing. After 45 minutes of searching in vain, I threw out a hail mary. I said a quick prayer. “Father, please help us see some dolphins”.

Even as I said amen, I thought this was a wasted prayer. First of all, there are much more important and prayer worthy things in the world. Drought in Africa, nations recovering from natural disaster and rioting. And here I am, uttering a prayer about my desire to see dolphins.

I quickly discarded my regret for uttering the prayer and tried to use the time to have some quality conversation with Sterling. He clearly wasn’t having it (I later found out he was still feeing quite sick) so I found myself a little downtrodden and naturally my eyes reverted to the water just below me.

As I stared at the waves splashing below me I started thinking about prayers and answers to prayers. I argued to myself that Heavenly Father can only answer prayers when we have faith and are obedient. I’d been struggling with both lately in my opinion. I had let so many important things slip lately. My temple attendance was abysmal if it existed at all. When I did go, I did so with a poor attitude and with little preparation. Though I read scriptures daily, my scripture study had suffered greatly over the course of a year and a half. My prayers were casual and infrequent. Worst, I felt so inferior and inadequate in my current church calling. I felt I wasn’t doing enough and was letting so many people down. My visiting teaching had become a chore and my competitive spirit had turned to a vindictive enmity in every game I played.

With these thoughts of guilt and inferiority running through my head I assured myself that Heavenly Father could not answer my simple prayer because blessings come to those who are obedient. Not slackers with decent intentions.

Just as my guilt turned to embarrassment for even wasting Father’s time the darndest thing happened. Suddenly a gray shadow appeared in my line of sight. Then another one. In an instant I recognized it was two dolphins swimming at the bow of the boat. I started nudging Sterling, saying “Dolphins! Dolphins!” Then reached for my camera just as the pair disappeared from view. I turned behind me and told others there were dolphins and could feel a rush of people flocking to where I stood. Then I returned my gaze to where the pair had appeared and saw….nothing.

Earlier in the day I’d read that spinner dolphins would often swim in the wake of a boat because it was easier than fighting the currents. I looked at the stern of the boat and again, nothing.

Within minutes the naturalist on board came to me and asked what I’d seen. He asked if I’d seen the body and the head. Thinking he wanted me to identify the dolphins, I admitted that I couldn’t tell what kind of dorsal fin they had and whether they had blunt or narrow snouts. He asked again if I saw the body and the head and I said yeah, but the woman at the front of the boat probably saw more because she was closer. He said he thought it was just a shark that we’d seen because usually dolphins will float to the stern of the boat and trail in the wake.

I told him it wasn’t a shark but a dolphin and he just dismissed it and walked away.

Then it hit me.

Heavenly Father had so kindly, mercilessly and graciously answered my prayer. Even though I didn’t deserve it. What were the odds that we would leave our seats and stand in that precise spot and stop scanning the seas and look immediately below us at that time?

In a split second, the dolphins appeared then were gone. Had we not been looking at that spot at that very time, I wouldn’t be writing this. Tears came to my eyes as I expressed gratitude to my loving Heavenly Father. Even though I’d put Him and His work on the farthest back burner, He hadn’t forgotten nor forsaken me.

Then I started thinking about Joseph Smith, the first prophet of this last dispensation in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Three of us out of 149 on the boat had seen the dolphins. Sterling and the other woman admitted they’d only seen gray animals and weren’t sure what they’d seen. Sterling was without his glasses though and the woman spoke only Spanish so I wasn’t sure they were the best witnesses.

I knew I’d seen two dolphins though. I knew it and could not deny it or be persuaded to think otherwise. This naturalist could doubt all he wanted because the dolphins didn’t follow their typical style of play with the boat. I knew that I had seen those dolphins because Heavenly Father had answered a simple prayer.

I thought of Joseph Smith in that moment. There he was, a young boy. He had seen God the Father and His son, Jesus Christ. He knew it, he knew God knew it, and he could not deny it. Yet many of those he told ridiculed him and doubted him. As I looked out at a spanning sea under an azure sky I felt so much love and appreciation for Joseph Smith and for our Creator who was at the helm of it all. He is the one driving everything. I may have lost sight of that somewhere along the way but the miracle of the dolphins, a simple moment, renewed my faith and desire to be a little better, do a little more and serve a little stronger. And for that, I am thankful.

Sunshine and lollipops..and other forms of sugar.

The sun finally arrived!! Just in time for a mini family reunion.

This weekend, Herringtons converged on Victoria, BC, for a family member's wedding reception (open house). Part of the clan had come up from Arizona and for the weeks leading up to this mini reunion I was afraid they would freeze but thankfully summer finally made an appearance. It was great to see everyone. It's funny how time makes the cycles of life more compact. I remember as a kid thinking that the older cousins were so much older! After spending 24 hours with those same cousins, I feel like we're all around the same age now with many cousins sharing the same life experiences.

It was great to see the cousins' kids repeating the cycle too. They frolicked and played all morning and afternoon. Meanwhile, the older cousins mixed and mingled and survived a few intense games of Rook. My cousin Julie also introduced a card form of Monopoly that is fast and was a family favourite by the end of our first (and only) night together. Sterling kept asking if we could play it so we'll have to go track down a deck of the game before our trip to Hawaii in a couple of weeks.

We both love playing games. Even though my ultra competitive spirit really sucks the fun out of it at times. Somehow he keeps coming back for more. One of our favourites has been Rook. It's a good fallback but we've been exploring new options lately, especially when our American cousins come for a visit. Any suggestions for a good game? Favourites?

More time

Summer vacation+rain=movie night(s).

Two nights ago, Sterling surprised me by renting The Time Traveler's Wife. We'd been meaning to see it for ages but just hadn't, possibly because we'd heard mixed reviews but mostly because we hadn't really made time for movie nights.

I'm a huge Rachel McAdams fan but went in with lowered expectations, which is maybe why I actually really liked it.

For one, it got me thinking about the people I love. Time is something I definitely take for granted. When life gets busy (and by life I typically mean work/church) I find myself removing important things from my schedule. I don't have time for talking, exercising, playing and enjoying life.

This next year, no matter how busy 'life' gets, my goal is to find a good balance. My dear friend KSum has taught me a bit about this recently. It's well and good to be fully engaged in working and striving to be successful in that area of your life, but it's also important to say 'yes to the rest'. Not to say any of us should aim to burn the candle at both ends but don't turn away a night with friends because vegging in front of the TV for the first time in weeks sounds more appealing.

Speaking of TV, there's a beer commercial that actually resonated with me in recent months. It depicts Mr. Yes and Mr. No essentially. Naturally, Mr. Yes had a lot more fun. While I agree in part, I do think there's a need to balance between Mr. Yes and Mr. No (or in this case, Mrs.). The couch, TV and crappy (albeit strangely entertaining) television programming will be there when you get home. The moments with friends might not. Make memories not regrets. That's my new motto. Or at least one of them.

It's a numbers game

Can you tell I'm on vacation and more or less rained in? It's not actually raining right now but it may as well be because it's mid-July and the sun's not shining. This morning it was raining and the wind has been howling much of today. It's days like today that I really wish we had a fireplace and that I had a good book to curl up with. Instead, I turn to you. Or blogging at least.

Today could have been a special day. Well, really, every day is. That's a lesson I've come to learn in the last 26+ years. Every day is a gift. I've met some incredible people along the way who've helped affirm and re-affirm this. Alas, I digress...today could have been a special day. Or so the numbers and Dr. Mario say.

7.14.11.

I don't know if my old roommate, Kimbo, will read this but this one's for her. In my very last semester at BYU-Idaho as a senior Senior on the brink of graduation, I had the great opportunity of living with some extraordinary women including Kimbo, a sweet Southern girl with an accent that could cut through the hardest heart and a spirit that matched her southern drawl's sincerity and sweetness. Though Kimbo had found the love of her life and was in wedding planning mode, unlike many fiancees I'd been around (sadly myself included), she didn't lose sight of her friends and spent many a day and night making memories and causing raucous laughter at Albion house.

One night, when I probably should have been sleeping or studying, I started playing our other roommate Christi Cox's (Coxy) Nintendo. Not just any gaming console but the ORIGINAL Nintendo. That particular summer I became a Dr. Mario addict. I'd challenge roommate after roommate to game after game. This night it was Kimbo on the floor. After playing well into the night, watching the clock's hours turn from double digits to single digits, Kimbo and I stopped competing and I decided to take on the computer at the highest level.

As I failed time after time, I started making wagers with the Nintendo Gods (I imagine they have raccoon tails and carry Duck Hunter guns) with Kimbo as my witness. Like any well educated, reasonable girl, I started proposing wedding dates based on my ability to master the hardest level at that particular turn. "Kimbo, if I win this time, I'm getting married August 8, 2010." I'd say at least a half dozen or maybe a dozen dates were thrown out before I actually won. And it definitely didn't turn out to be the day I actually got married. In fact, at that time I hadn't even started dating Sterling (although I had already met him).

Isn't that the way life goes? Okay, that example's a little extreme and probably a result of it being 3 or 4 in the morning but I find that we can't really plan life's grandest events exactly. I didn't know then that in just over six months I would be married to the love of my life. I couldn't have guessed that in a million years. First of all, I was always the slow one to trust and really let my walls fall down. Second of all, at that time I was just over a month away from graduating from BYU-Idaho (aka BYU-I-Do for many) and moving back to a place I'd spent years being single. In the back of my head, that plea to the Nintendo Gods and anyone who'd listen was pure fantasy. But unbeknownst to me, it became a reality much sooner than I'd anticipated.

Now that Sterling and I are happily married and approaching our two year mark, it seems more of life's grandest events are just around the corner and as much as I can try to plan for them, some are just going to come and some might not. That's the great challenge and joy of life. We can't expect every little thing to unfold as we please. As we try to map out parenthood, future job prospects, when/where we'll buy a home, setting a timeline is well and good but not necessarily something I or the Nintendo Gods can control.

I do know that there is someone who knows and has control though. I'm so thankful my Heavenly Father has a plan for me and us, and am so glad to know He's a way better planner than I could ever be. But boy would I ever love to take a peek at His blueprints for my life. I've never been one to skip ahead to the end of a mystery novel just to see who'd actually 'done it' but I have been known to frequent the Big Brother web sites just to find out who's nominated before the episode is actually aired. There's a big part of me that wants to know what's next and when will it be here? There again is another joy of life. We don't know.

We live the day-to-day trying to do our best and sometimes fall very short. We can plan, budget, worry and work, but we can't anticipate every turn in the path we're taking. Sometimes we lose sight of the path and sometimes we find a straight stretch we can see ahead for miles. The great key is that no matter where the path is leading, we're the ones walking it. We can choose whether to keep a steady pace or slow down for a while. We can choose to look back or forge ahead. That knowledge gives me great hope and helps me appreciate the journey that much more. No matter where we're going--when the kids will come, where they'll grow up, or what type of job Dad will be coming home from at the end of the day--I know I'll be walking the path at my pace and alongside my best friend.

Today was supposed to be a special day and it was. The Blue Jays are up 9-4 over the Yankees for one. And I've spent the entire day with Sterling. After a year that saw him move to Idaho to finish up his degree and a long playoff run that kept me away far more than either of us would like, it's moments like these that I really appreciate. Now if only the sun would make an appearance...maybe it's time to summon the Nintendo Gods. I could really use some bonding time with the Doctor.

Out of the Woods

There was a time in my life that I diligently kept a journal. Actually, much of my life I daily kept record of my adventures and misadventures. Each entry directed to my future posterity, I envisioned future generations reading and empathizing with my daily, not-so-exciting undertakings on Vancouver Island. I would ramble about hope and heartache, love and loss, often feeling that this week's story of a boy would turn into the early records of my lifelong love story.

Ironically, as the years went on and I got more serious about writing I became less diligent in my record keeping. I'd come across my journal in the midst of a move to life's next destination and scribble out a few pages summarizing the last year's events then stow away the pen and paper with a resolve to get back into keeping a journal.

And so the cycle continued as my life's goals started turning into realities. Gone were the days of chronicling every last detail as those details started shaping the very life my posterity would really be affected by. Blank are the pages that should have highlighted my move from Duncan to Calgary where I got away from the trappings of home just in time to realize the comfort and security I'd taken for granted. The pages don't read about the day-to-day: classmates, schoolwork, Squash games, dance parties...or the life lessons learned from forging a lasting bond with high school friends, dealing with a challenging roommate (SC) or letting a visit with puppies turn into purchasing one while living in a pet unfriendly university residence.

My pen didn't capture the moments of self discovery and cherished friendships I developed when living in Victoria. Or the moment I decided to make the move to a church school in Rexburg, Idaho.

I didn't take the time to write about the way five strangers would shape my early experiences at BYU-Idado as my new roommates. How much I'd come to love these girls I'd never met before. Jasmine who would always make me laugh yet offer such poignant life lessons. Those same life lessons dear, sweet Amber would impart as well as she challenged a variety of subjects in our long conversations. Countless others would come into my life and touch it for the better--Jenette, Daphne, Tessa, Christina, Angie, Wendy, Lindsey, Katherine, Home Skillet, Hurricane, Kimbo, Kyla and Coxy among many roommates I was blessed to live with and learn from. Then there were the Scrollies, basketball teammates and friends from church. All these people and places that shaped my life and I didn't take note.

Now that most of the hopes and dreams I'd aspired to have become reality, I regret not taking pause and making a record. So here it is. My attempt at making amends. I'm a little late at catching on to the blogging world but when have I ever been known to be punctual? For my friends, family, future posterity and mostly myself, here it goes.