GREAT Grandma

Once in a while you meet someone who is great in every sense of the word. My grandma was that person.

Today the world is a sadder place because her spirit is no longer in it. I think the world knows it.

Here are a few reasons my grandma was great:
1-She was clean. Every thing about her was clean. I remember many times going to her home to spend the night. We couldn't eat until EVERYTHING in the house was cleaned. We vacuumed, swept, made the beds, put everything away--all before we could choose what we wanted for breakfast.
2-She let us choose our own breakfast when we stayed with her. That might not be something to many people, but it meant everything to me. I was important to her.
3-She always had cool stuff in her purse at church and never got after us to be more quiet with it.
4-She loved her grandkids. She held the two newest at Christmas party just last Saturday. She knew all of her grandkid's names. No small feat, there are a LOT of them. She knew where they were in life. She could tell you what one of the little ones did in a school play.
5-She could cook. When my kids were little, she called her "the grandma who cooks good." She could make something delicious out of anything.
6-She liked her house clean, but would move the kitchen table into the front room when a crowd gathered--and she didn't worry about stuff getting on the carpet.
7-She opened her doors to everyone. Everyone felt welcomed in her house.
9-She brought me birthday treats every year I have taught. The last couple of years she brought packaged yummies, but before that she made cookies.
10-She was forgiving.
11-She was an example of everything that is good in this world. She showed faith, she loved, she was kind, she was patient.
12-She has taught me that you can do things that are uncomfortable, you just keep doing them, then they are easier.
13-She showed me how to serve, and that you are never too old to help others. I remember that grandpa told the Bishop that grandma was getting old and needed a break from taking meals into the homes of the 'sick and afflicted.' The Bishop replied that someone needed to help her pass the sign up sheet past her when it came around. That would help he said.
14-She taught me to pray. She often asked me if I did remember to pray. She often told me that I was in her prayers.

She has been so lonely for my grandpa who passed away last January. Living without him has been so hard for her. The hardest thing she has ever had to endure. But she did endure, and well. Today when he came for her, she went without hesitation.

Vera Oram was a great-grandma, long before I ever had my first baby. More than that, she was a great person. I will miss her tremendously.

A Little Holiday Treat for You!

This has been getting around facebook. It brings me to tears.





And he shall reign forever and ever.

King of Kings...Lord of Lords...

Hallelujah.



(Merry Christmas)

Its snowing

I just wonder how long it would take for the bottom of my computer screen to get an inch of snow if I didn't scroll up. Its like the toostie pop question. Who has time to find out....still....I wonder.


Thank you for hanging around for that little bit of weirdness.


I actually wrote a whole paragraph, but erased it because it gave an insight into my brain that I try to keep hidden. I wonder why I feel the need to explain that I deleted text. I think I need counseling. Please refer to the second paragraph.

Just a couple of the things I am thankful for....

Little baby Lincoln was born October 28. He has a sweet personality and we have waited for him for a while. Our family is so happy to have this new little person in it.

We also just got a new little grandbaby girl. Her name is Syndee Faye for two of her grandmas. She is so cuddly and smells so good. She has already produced her first smile. We are so richly blessed to have her!


I am, of course, also thankful for the rest of my family. I love them all dearly. I would be lost without my handsome hubby.
I feel so fortunate to have many dear, good friends. What a great example you all are to me.
Also, I am blessed to have the gospel of Jesus Christ in my life. I am grateful to have been taught all my life by good parents the precepts of the gospel and to have and understanding of the plan of happiness and Christ's loving Atonement.
I am grateful for my body and this beautiful home and world I live in.

Thanksgiving love to all!

More on life:

I didn't actually publish the last "life" post. Kind of personal.

First the sad news. I had a retinal tear in my good eye. It kind of devastated me. The doc thinks it looks good, so I feel a little better about it.

More sad news. I was recently released from my calling in the primary. I haven't ever enjoyed working with the primary kids as much as this little class. I love hose kids. I cried when I told them I was not going to be able to teach them any more, and they did too. My heart really did break.

Good news. I am in young women's again. I have the cute little beehives. I know many of them and I am really excited to go to camp this summer.

On the school front: School was fun today...I asked the kids if they thought being an ant was easy or hard and they responded: Easy, you just have to play in the dirt. Hard, the queen bosses you around. Hard, nothing good to eat. Hard, you are little and some kid can step on you. And (my favorite): Hard, they don't have teachers.

Also on the school front...there was A LOT of crying in my class today. Teachers even came in to see what the commotion was about. The answer: Veterans Day. They were sympathetic to the fact that three people in my family are or will be deployed, and that one of my students had an uncle die four years ago in Iraq. Other students were sad because they have family in various branches of the armed forces. I really have a sweet class.

That is all for now.

October

It is rainy and cold today, but this autumn has been amazingly beautiful! The weather has allowed the trees to come into full color before the rain pushes the leaves off of them. The golds, the reds, and the browns are all so vibrant this year.
Yesterday, on my way to town, I looked over and saw a stand of trees all decked out in their glorious fall colors, and one smaller tree in the middle, still with all of its leaves--and they were bright green. It was striking! I have just been enjoying this season so much.

We are anxiously awaiting the arrival of Zach and Jessica's new baby Lincoln. He will be born next Friday, I can't wait to see him. Soon after he comes, we will get to meet Syndey Faye, daughter of Kelsey and Steven. After the holidays, we will have one more, brought to us by Becky. She is confident she is having a girl, but the doctor said he would bet a nickle, but not his house that it is a girl. I am just so excited to get some new grandbabies.

Life continues to be fast-paced. I have lots of kids in my class this year, and they really keep me hopping. I love them all, though, and feel so blessed to be their teacher. I also teach the little 5-6 year olds at church. I was recently asked if I like teaching at school AND at primary. Lots of teachers, I am told, say no to callings in primary. There are times when I do want to play with the grownups, but I genuinely love working with the kids. I think they keep me young. Additionally, my patriarchal blessing tells me specifically that I will work with the youth all of my life. I believe I have been blessed with the talents to make me effective as a teacher. Also, I really do love doing it.

Life is changing in so many ways. It won't be long before it is just Mark and I in this big house. I am both happy and sad about that. I miss my children, and the fun times we had when they were growing up, but life is good and I love having the grandkids come over. Also, I look forward to good times with Mark. He is such a good man! We haven't ever had alone time...even our honeymoon was just one night in Pocatello.

I also feel like spiritually things are changing. There is SO MUCH opposition to every good thing. There is so much that is attacking the home and family. All around me I see the effects of promiscuity and porn. I also see how Satan is using apathy to meet his ends. Selfishness and meanness is rampant. Its incredible. I remember thinking in the late 90's that I could not believe that things could get any more wicked. The 90's are so tame compared to now, and I wonder how much worse will it get before it is all over.

I have felt very reflective lately, and felt this was a good place to store my thoughts. Someday I will have this turned into a book. I blog WAY more than I journal.

Overall, life is really good. I feel so blessed. I know where all of my wonderful blessings come from and I am grateful for that knowledge.

A funny from school

Today we learned that caterpillars eat so much in two weeks, that their skin gets tighter and tighter until they shed it. (Interesting...did YOU know that?)

As I was sitting in a small group discussing this fascinating fact, one little girl said, "Did you know that can happen to people too?" I thought, I have been on the earth for 50 years, and no--I didn't know that. She continued, "Well, they don't really shed their skin....






they explode."



So, as I was trying hard not to laugh out loud she says,

"My grandpa just gets bigger and bigger....I am nervous he will explode when I am by him."

(Just think about it. You know you have thought it sometimes at WalMart.)

Half Century

OK, I guess that having a "big" birthday, as one friend called it, deserves some sort of mention.

I turned 50 earlier this week.

*I don't lie about my age, unless its because I can't remember how old I am.
*I don't feel embarrassed to admit I color my hair.
*I do not eat prunes.
*I don't wear support hose.
*I am not wrinkled and drying up.
*I am not half-way to the grave.
*I don't use my body as an excuse not to use my body.
*I am not planning my retirement.

*I do enjoy the confidence that comes with being 50.
*I do color my hair.
*I eat what I want.
*I HATE panty hose!
*I want wrinkles--I want them to be around my eyes and mouth from laughing and smiling.
*I am very much alive and breathing--and living.
*I go to the gym because I LIKE it.
*I want to teach for as long as I can...I am looking forward to 15 or 16 more years.

These 50 years are the sum total of good times, and hard times. There have been tears, but more laughter. They have defined who I am and how I live my life. 50 is just fine.

Pencils

I hate pencils. Just thought I would share that with the world. I wish I was clever enough to invent a good alternative.

Reason #1:
At school time when pencils are less expensive than other times in the year, parents buy less expensive pencils. The thing is, the good pencils cost about the same every day of the year. The other thing is, the less expensive pencils have been known to land in the circular file right when I start to sharpen them (that is another fascinating story which is part of Reason #2) because the lead falls right out when you start the sharpening process. The WHOLE lead. All of it. This is the reason the less expensive pencils are less expensive.

Reason #2:
I am a teacher because of pencils. That is a good thing. I love teaching, as I think any regular reader of this online journal will attest. HOWEVER, because of an incident which happened to one of my own personal children when he was in the middle school (his teacher made him call me and tell me that "I am so dumb that I can't remember to bring a pencil to school."--in front of the class) I sharpen each and every one of the pencils my students use. This means I sharpen approximately 15-30pencils a day. I have had many different kinds of sharpeners and they all pretty much stink. It gets old, but I will not have any of my students being unprepared or wasting time on pencils--or feeling bad about themselves because they forgot one. It is worth it to me to have them ready for use each morning. Additionally, there is a lot of satisfaction in looking at a holder full of freshly sharpened pencils. The sharpening is not something I love though.

Reason #3:
Parents are suspicious of teachers who put all the pencils in one container for the students. I have to justify saving their students pencils for them. I have even heard it said that 'teachers save those pencils for their own personal use." I would refer you back to Reason #2. Those pencils are of the less expensive quality. The pencils I prefer are a Ticonderoga black or traditional. Now that's a good pencil. Some also say they buy the less expensive pencils for their students because, "there are always students who don't bring any, and I don't have to supply pencils for EVERY student." PUH-LEEZE, I know that no one who reads this would ever say that, but for the rest of the world I would just like to ask..."You don't feel like you can spend an extra quarter on a kid whose parents can't afford to buy him pencils? Think about it, its a quarter...do you honestly think they just don't buy them because they know you will?" Once when I was shopping for students (sometimes they come without supplies), I overheard a conversation similar to the ones described here. I gently tried to explain the pencil process because I know its the same in every classroom, although some teachers may let the children sharpen their own pencils. She didn't buy it. She was a little cynical about pencils. And teachers, I guess.

Today I spent about 40 minutes sharpening the cutest Dr Seuss pencils that I will give the kids on the first day of school. They really are adorable, and they match my theme this year--"Our class is funner than a Cat in a Hat!" I know the kids will love them, and I know they are necessary, but I really do not like pencils. I just wish I could come up with a good alternative.

Work

When I went to ISU, we were actually taught that we shouldn't ever say these words,"I wanted to be a teacher because I want summers off." They said it wouldn't go well in an interview. I believe it, but I haven't ever felt that way. I never want school to end. I want to play with my students all summer, then make a smooth transition to the next kids like the blink of an eye. But no, its not great for learning, so we send them home.

But I just can't stay away. I have taught summer school every year, even when i wasn't a "real" teacher. It fills a need I have. This year, however, no summer school.

Even when there is summer school, I go to my room to get things ready for the next kids, I clean and organize. I just love my job. Sadly, this year I lost my keys. I couldn't just go in at random times to see my classroom. Nope, I have been forced to stay home. I have been lethargic. I haven't planted flowers. I let my house chores go until Wednesday or Thursday every week. I have watched almost every episode of "Say Yes to the Dress" and Four Weddings. I watched a commercial about depression and thought...well maybe.

But today....da da da DUM! I got my keys. Now I can go and look at my room whenver I want. It feels a little like winning the lottery. I am SO happy!

Summer and Cousins Camp

This summer has been odd for me. Usually, I spend all of June doing migrant summer school. This year, there is no money for such things in our district. I was thinking of just tutoring out of the goodness of my heart because I just don't know what to do with myself.

At the end of June, my grandkids came from Washington and stayed until just yesterday. We had a cousins camp again this year. It was mainly two days, but we spread it out over the whole week. We cooked outside, went to a fun water park in Rexburg, had a sleep-over, made individual fruit pizzas, attended ball games, watched movies, played at Jensen's Grove, had water fights and played on the slip and slide. This year we had to ban Mark from the slip and slide. (He gets too excited and breaks it.) Here are a few pictures of cousins camp:


This is Chantel, my niece. Technically she is a cousin.


The kids chose waffles for breakfast.

They also had fun playing in the water.

Autobiography

At the end of this school year I had the kids write their autobiographies. I have taken the liberty of combining them into one autobiography of a second grader.

I was born in the year of the house (horse). That is when everything started in my life. When I was a baby my mom would put me in a baby swing. I would watch football all day long.
When I was little I ran into everything, so I had to go to the eye doctor. When I was a baby I got two scars. One was when I was jumping on my bed and it cut my forehead, there was blood everywhere. The second one was when I was walking with my dad and I hit my head on the table.
I was very small and was always sleepy. I was born second. When I was about 1 I got very sick and my hair turned gray.
When I was 2 years old I could walk and talk very well. I met my grandma when I was two.
When I was about three I learned how to ride my blue bike. I built a block tower and my sister knocked it down. (She's nicer now.)
I was a great eater when I was four years old. When I had my big birthday party, my mom had a baby boy.
Years past (!) and I'm in school. I went to kindergarten, and I got in trouble because Preston pushed me. We went to the zoo. We got to see all the animals, we went in groups of 5.
In first grade I missed school alot. We went on a field trip to the farm to see the baby pigs and bunnies. We went to see the plants at Kesler's. When I was six I found out that my mom's name is Jen.
Now I am 8, I am in second grade. I don't remember when my dad left me. I went with my family to Honulooloo. It was fun! Everyone here is nice. Mrs Behrend is so funny, she's also the class clown. School is cool. I love my teacher, and she loved me.
My life is great. Very, very great.

I did love them, and my life is great. Very, very great.

Posted by a teacher who is missing her babies.

The Day before Mother's Day

This has been a fun day, but also one of reflection for me.

Today many of the women, and one man from the Oram family went to lunch. My Aunt Marti was down from Montana. Around the first of the year, she had a heart attack, followed in four days by a massive stroke. It is nothing short of a miracle we still have her with us. She has been have therapies for her speech and occupational therapy so she can learn to walk, and get some of her fine motor skills back. As a kid, she was the "fun" aunt. She knew the cool people, did the cool things, and went to the cool places. She was ALWAYS laughing. So, I was a little nervous about how she would be when we saw her this time. Physically, she seems about the same. She needs help up, walks slowly and sometimes needs help getting around. Verbally, she can say "no deal," "I can do anything," and "die" best of all. She also says "no" to every question you ask her. You have to pay attention to her head, because she will nod what she means. Up and down "no" means yes, and side to side "no" means no. Once in a while she pops out with a word that surprises the listener. After we went to lunch, we went to my grandma's house for desert. That is when the fun really started. She was so communicative with her limited vocabulary, and so expressive with her face, that there was no doubt what she was trying to say. As I watched her, I thought of what a blessing to know that what makes Marti what and who she is, is still in there. Her eyes say it all. She is very aware of what is going on around her. I think it must be so frustrating to want to say something, and not have the words. She received a blessing while we were there, and I know that she is prayed for all around the country. I have faith that she will be alright.

As I sat around the table at lunch, I was overwhelmed with the blessing of all of those women in my life. Every one of them is a powerhouse of strength and love. Some are at different emotional, mental, and spiritual places in their lives, but all are working toward the best place. I am so grateful for their great examples, and the many things they do to help me be a better person.

Moving my parents

My parents have moved from the house we all shared for forty-nine years. There are many happy memories for me there. When I was a little girl there weren't houses in the back. We called the area "THE FIELD" and officially it was the best place for a girl like me to grow up. I never was one for dolls, but I could spend hours building hills and driving toy trucks through the dirt. We could ride horses in the field and around on the street with my aunt Marti. It was a quiet street to learn to ride a bike. There was a tree in the front yard that technically didn't belong to us, but on Sundays we would go and sit under it with my dad and he would tell us of his adventures growing up in Northern Idaho. We girls slept in the basement. The basement was our own little world. We hung from the pipes, and bounced on the bed. We made cookies from questionable ingredients. We listened to classical music, show tunes, songs from the 50's, 60's and 70's, and cinematic sound effects booming from upstairs on the stereo. We tickled each other's backs until we went to sleep and shared our dreams. We all shared one bathroom, and the kitchen barely fit all seven or eight of us--depending if grandma was there. Its a house where I brought my friends, my dates, my husband, my babies, and eventually my grandchildren. It is a small home, but large in love.

When my parents first told us they were moving, some in my family were shocked and surprised. Could Christmas eve be the same if we weren't all crammed in like sardines, drinking hot chocolate and eating grilled tuna? How could grandpa do laundry without hanging it out (or in) to dry? Family dinners with the kids in the basement, sometimes freezing since it doesn't have much heat? The house had become as much the tradition as the tradition itself.

Not so much for me. I am so happy that I don't have to worry about my parents falling down the stairs. I'm glad that we don't have to try to figure out how to replace the fixtures that are original to the house, or upgrade flooring, plumbing, or windows.

When we went into the new house, it felt like home. I really am so thankful that we are moving them into a house, and not a "retirement facility." I'm glad that it is big enough for the whole family to get together in one place, and the out-of-towners can even spend the night.

AND, it has a bomb shelter.

PS...I have written a lot about my dad lately. I just wanted to add that he showed an incredible amount of integrity when he bought this home.
He has had his eye on this home for a long time. When it first went on the market, they were asking in the high 210's. The market started to bottom, and after a while the price went to the 190's, then fell to $160,000. I don't know how serious he was about buying a new home, but he started talking about it A LOT more when the price got that low. The Friday before Easter, he noticed that the realtor had reduced the price even further to $130,000. That got my dad. He decided right then and there that this was too good a house to go for such a price. Additionally, somehow he is related to the sellers, so he went to the realtor and offered.....$160,000. He said if the house was worth that much one week before, it still was. He also said that $130,00 wasn't a fair price, and he wouldn't pay it. I hope I can someday have the kind of integrity my dad has.
PPS Even with that level of integrity, he still had to convince the mortgagor to finance him. He is an old-fashioned kind of guy and wanted a 30 year loan. He is 75 years old. They gave him the loan. Of course, I think it will take him less than 15 to pay for it, but he was willing to fight for the 30 year contract.

I love him.

What to cook....

For your pleasure I have added a link to my friend Tiffany's recipe blog. You know how you have this friend and everything she makes is fabulous? This is Tiff. (When you make a blog with recipes, I will add you too, Angela.)
Anyway, the recipes are simple but delish and each comes with a photo of how it should look. Find Tiff's Kitchen on my sidebar and enjoy!

I am kind of excited to try the Oreo Truffles. Yum!

Hope everything is good in your neck of the woods.
Kathy

Thanks Joy, but I have to share this one!

I don't know if people read my comments, but this was a winner (Thanks to my cousin for the laugh!) :

One of my friends who is a teacher has a great ice skating/show and tell story. A little boy brought a box of Stayfree Maxi pads to class and had everyone peel off the stickers and put them on their feet. Then he told them that his mom let him use them for skates at home to help clean the floor. Stop laughing right now, 'cause I know you are. Laughing. Right. Now!

This is Kathy again, I have to say that is one ingenious mom!

Just ramblings

I have decided that I must rededicate myself to exercise. I got off the bandwagon when I was going blind. To be fair, the doctor did tell me I shouldn't go. Then there were all those cookies given to me by kind-hearted friends. Sadly, some of the weight I lost has found me again. So, I decided that I have to go and workout until I can fit into all of my clothes again. Those of you who are faithful readers of this blog will recall that in a bold move I gave all of my bigger girl clothes away. Well, I have been to Gold's twice in the last two days. I tried a class called Body Combat which I was probably doing incorrectly, but which was a fantastic release to all of my pent up frustrations. However, about ten minutes through, I was asking myself, "WHAT IN THE WORLD DID YOU EVER SEE IN THIS?" Then the endorphins kicked in and I remembered. That is why I was able to go in today.

One of my students is writing his life story. When asked why, he replied, "I don't plan on having many more experiences....and I could really use the money."

I teach five year olds in Primary. I love it. I wish I could remember every funny thing they say, but sadly...I am getting older and my brain just isn't what it used to be. Here is one I do remember, "Sister Behrend, does Heavenly Father have a girlfriend?"

I have a student teacher. She is fantastic and will someday be a great teacher. Sometimes weird things happen in my class. I think that my body gets possessed by a crazy spirit and I do these really odd things. Like ice skating. It just jumped into my head when the kids were not getting a concept and I told them to take their favorite skater pose. While I am leaning over with my leg expertly pointing out behind me and one arm in the air, while the other one daintily dangled to the ground, I remember that Mrs Hill is in the room. She was in my blind side when I had this great idea. So...I glanced her way and saw her in a perfect pirouette pose. I told her later that I liked it, she informed me that I couldn't have seen it because it was on my blind side. When I described it to her, she confessed with was her triple axel. Got to love a girl who will throw her best jump on the first day in class.

Ok, that's all I have in my head right now--except that I am hungry and need some scrambled eggs.

Hope everything is good in your neck of the woods.

Snow

I like it.
It is celestial and clean in its whiteness (until the road crews get out).
All of the really good holidays of the year have snow in them.
I love to watch it snow from my warm living room, while the fire burns and I am wrapped in a quilt reading a book.
Soup is better when it snows.
If there was no snow, there would be no ski-cross at this years Olympics. Also, no downhill, no Super G, no half pipes...
If it didn't snow, we might not appreciate spring as much.
Or summer.
If it didn't snow we would have nothing to cover the dead browns of the leaves in the fall.
Without snow an entire tire industry would go bankrupt.
I am starting to have to really reach for reasons I like snow.
I think I am trying to convince myself how much I like snow.
I like the sun....

Driving with my dad

Ok...this will be two semi-serious posts in a row.

My dad has been driving me to work again. I have resigned myself to the fact that he will probably drive me every day--forever. Well...he does let me drive myself to summer school.

The last month he has been waxing sentimental. He actually cried when he was talking about my grandpa. Being pioneer stock did prevent him from actually CRYING...it was a little more like choked sobs.

Today when he picked me up, he just started talking. From school to home he addressed the following subjects: debt, politics, good music, how to take a rewarding trip, him as a child, the Art Academy of America, a fugitive we both know, the beauty of the mountains around us, and the Olympics. It is less than ten miles from my house to the school and he drives about 50 mph the whole way. He began every new topic with "BUT its just like..." I think his segways made sense to him, somehow...but not so much to me.

When he drove into my driveway he turned off the motor. From past experiences, I knew that meant we were going to talk. And so it started, "BUT its just like..."
He started with the topic of his experiencs as a child wanting to draw, and how the Art Academy of America took all the fun out of it. Then he started up another topic. "I choose your mother out of all the women in the world to be your mom. When I first saw her I was taken by her beauty." At this point he does that chokey sobby noise. "I knew that when I was around her I felt good and when I was around her family there was so much love. That's what I wanted for my babies, because I never had it in my own life."

Long pause.

"I feel so grateful that I found her. I know you are the good people you are because of her." (His chin is quivering and he is trying hard to control himself.) "I know that some of our children have had rough spots in your lives, but you have all done well. You are honest, you are hard-working, you have good families."

Another pause.

"Your grandmother told me that I would have to look hard for a better woman to marry. She could cook, sew, and clean." Smaller pause. "She did tell me that if finding someone who could darn my socks was important to me, I should look somewhere else. I learned that if I kept my toenails clipped my socks lasted longer."

I personally think that I--and my siblings--are the sum total of both of our parents.

Between generations

Last night I was holding Loucee and she went to sleep on my lap. She can be quite a little snuggler when she's asleep, and I was enjoying the quiet and peace of it. I was kissing her hair and feeling her breathe while I could hear her two brothers and one cousin playing in the back room. They were laughing and enjoying themselves and I found myself smiling at how content having the grandbabies in my home makes me feel. I needed that content feeling, because while two generations down from my own were visiting me, two generations up my grandpa was laying in an intensive care unit. We have been so worried about him, and have had sleepless nights thinking about his pain, his heart, his hip, my grandma, his kids-my mother... Two generations up are struggling. My grandma puts on her brave face, but she has been sleeping alone in her house for one of the first times in literally a half a century. She is a pillar of faith--she KNOWS everything is going to work out fine, no matter what 'fine' is.

On one end of my generations life is just starting. My grandbabies have such a vigor and drive to live, to love, to learn. They are barely aware of the drama unfolding just a few generations up the ladder. They are blessed to know their great-great grandparents, a few might even remember them.

On the other end, hard decisions are being made. There is love, living, and even learning. They have been blessed to know those in generations down from their own, and back to their own parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, great grandparents...

So last night, it occurred to me. I am in the middle.

People everywhere I go ask how my grandparents are. They tell me to pass along their thoughts and prayers to them and their family. They tell me stories about my grandpa as their bishop, or that he sold them a car. Some relate stories of how kind my grandma is, that she was always the first on the scene with food when a family needed help. My grandparents are well loved and have lived well.

Last night I felt more on the aging side of the generations. I wondered if I have lived in a way that people would care if I was sick when I am 90. I wondered if they would have fond memories of me. I wondered how my grandchildren would remember me, as loving and fun? Would they look to me as a pillar of faith and strength?

I know this kind of thing happens in families every day.

I feel like a middle child of generations.