Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Just a Note. . .

Heading off to camp later today and will be gone the rest of the week -- won't be home until sometime Sunday. Just wanted to let those of you who can't make it know that you'll be sorely missed! In fact, I'm missing you already!

We'll have fun playing and fishing and especially enjoying the outdoors but, at the same time, the fun times and memories will lack the personality and love you bring to them. I will especially miss all of you on my birthday!

Have fun and be safe everyone. Know I love you all very much and will have you in my heart constantly!

Love, JustMe

Monday, June 20, 2011

Definitely Don't Have a Jeweler's Eye

Today I judged. Today I judged quite harshly.

I never leave the house in the morning without first praying for Heavenly Father's Spirit to bless me with discernment and compassion as people come into my life during the day. But, alas, I am way too human.

I find it hard to remember that, just as precious gems are multi-faceted, so are human beings. And the only facets my dimensionally limited eyes are capable of seeing are the ones that are so blatantly displayed.

I have to stay away from wondering how Agency works and why it seems the children suffer the consequences of the choices made by the adults in their lives.

When Christ was on the earth, He beckoned the little children to come to Him. He did not then, nor has He now, forgotten them. He gathered them around Him and He touched them and blessed them and wiped their tear-streaked faces and I must believe He is still doing it today - constantly - through His Spirit; stroking, protecting, blessing. And I'm certain He does His share of weeping, too.

So grateful to know there is a loving Heavenly Father who personally knows the gems and sees all the facets and loves and forgives in spite of, and because of, the earth-imposed flaws.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011


At least a gazillion blogs in the world.

At least a bunch of pictures on each of those gazillion blogs in the world.

At least more than a bunch of swear words from the bloggers trying to place those many bunches of pictures on each of those gazillion blogs in the world.

Seriously! Can Blogger not make it a little easier???

In Memorium

Spring 1998 ~ June 10, 2011

Evergreen Forever

Could this be a tear being shed for Ima?

No, just dirt in the eye or a poke from a

dried up pine needle.

It's been a year since I started getting ideas from Ima that it was okay with her if I let go. I guess it was inevitable. She's fought and struggled and hung on through every changing season and done a tree-mendous job, if I say so myself.

Initially it was salt in her veins. It was a slow, downward spiral after that. Because of that setback, she lost her footing {or should I say 'rooting'} and a year or so of growing taller. As is the truth in all things, so it is with the plant world and all green growing things around her did not stop or slow down just because she did. I guess survival of the fittest is the motto in all living things and the Wiley Willow saw an opportunity to grow taller and get more of the sunshine. Add lack of direct sunlight to Ima's weakened immune system and . . . well you can see what resulted. She branched out as best she could but, in the end, it wasn't enough.

Not everyone understood and appreciated Ima. Her rough exterior kept her isolated from any tree hugging and her sharp needles and weak branches were not inviting to birds looking to nest. Although I'm sure they may have robbed her of a needle now and again to feather their nests elsewhere.

Ima's sister Isa Tree.

So at last she is not only at peace but in pieces, no longer to be needled by dry days, crooked, drooping branches and mocking looks. She died bravely and gallantly at the hands of family who loved her enough to end her torment. Those of us left behind will probably never understand her internal struggles as she daily tried to keep up with her sister, Isa. As valiant as Ima was, in the middle of the dark night, she often wondered why she had not been the one to get run over by the drunkard. Isa bounced back {literally} in no time but Ima's trials struck at the very core of her existence.

Ima is survived by her sister, Isa and me, who both loved her. She is survived by many other family members who were not so fortunate as to have loved her in this life.

Three of the Yard Health Care Employees who attended to

Ima's last hours:  Carter, Tyler and Layne

Ima was not one to break down and fall to

pieces so Tyler willingly assisted her. 

Carter was careful not to cause any more

pain and suffering than necessary to Ima.

Colton carefully prepared the ground around

Ima so the extraction could go as painlessly

as possible. That would be the Grim Reaper

in the background.

Carter and Tyler gently monitor Ima's vitals

and strategically plan their next cuts.


Ima's final release had to be facilitated with

a chain. Kind of ironical, actually, that a

chain can actually be a means of release.

Stripped of all her pride, Ima prepares to leave this Earth.

The Grim Reaper prepares and hooks

up his equipment.

Doesn't she look like she's waving a fond

farewell? All five fingers, too!

Even without branches and leaves she

maintains her dignity! The ReaperMobile

may uproot her, but it cannot destroy her spirit!

Finally Ima is released from the cares of the

Earth and can proudly join all those pine trees

in the Great Forest. Her spirit will

make her a giant among them!

The Pall Bearers: Tyler, Carter, Colton,

Layne & Garrett. Grim Reaper there at the back.

Giving the Pall Bearers and Grim Reaper a

second chance to try and look somewhat sad.

Ima definitely leaves a hole behind that will

be hard to fill.

Okay, well, maybe not that hard considering

how fast the Grim Reaper works!

Waiting her turn at the crematorium. One day she will

happily help roast someone's hot dog or marshmallow,

or maybe just help destroy the ozone layer.

Ima clung to every last clod of dirt as long as she could and she should be very proud of her short time in this little spot of Earth. I will miss you. Please, a moment of silence . . .


Tuesday, June 7, 2011

The Light of Christ

I've kind of gotten hooked on the Kindle app on my phone. I never thought I'd want one of the readers but it is nice to have a book without the bulk and at a moment's whim. I still crave the feel of the book in my hands - scribbling my thoughts in the margins and knowing I own the tangible book. It's either a faith thing with me {I have to see it to know it's there} or it goes back to my geometry days and Spacial Spastic here doesn't grasp how I can own a bit of space on a different plane and call it a book.

Anyway, one of those little dots in cyberspace that I own is a book about the Law of Attraction and how it applies to {and is actually taught in} the scriptures. There's a place at the beginning where the author talks about the Light of Christ. He gives some complicated scientific explanations but basically boils everything down to the most minutest of possible pieces of anything being the little spark of life in all of us. After the author did all that explaining {which mostly went over my head}, he then quoted the scripture from the creation: "And God said, Let there be light; and there was light". The author's opinion is that there is more to that bit of creation than just the physical opposite of darkness.

For a moment I imagined hearing God command that there be light and feeling the energy - like spring, like morning, like the light that came out of the delivery room when Tyler was born and I was touched somewhere down deep. It's been stewing around there for days now, too. The last few days have been kind of weepy days and that's the only thing I can really trace it to. Yesterday and today I've had clients share some new accomplishments or some new goals - baby steps - but they are so proud! Voices are more confident. Eyes shine more. Faces glow. They smile.

It's reconfirmed my faith in the Light of Christ. In my feeble little mind I believe there is a spot inside everyone and that spot was created to nurture and protect and guard the little seed of light that recharges our knowledge of who we are and what we're capable of becoming. And I'm grateful for everyone who has crossed my path, especially these last couple of days, providing a jolt to my little spot.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Movie Night . . . I Mean Life

As always I'm in search of answers. The questions don't seem to change, though. Am I dense or what? {OK, that's a rhetorical question and I don't really want an answer}. When I think of getting an 'answer', I guess I think of receiving something similar to what I'd write for problem 27 on page 126 of my math book. An answer that actually solved something.

Although the questions don't seem to change, sometimes they do get rephrased, which, of course sends me into a spiral because now I need another answer. Woe is me. Anyway, a good friend asked a question. I haven't decided if the question has started another Quest for Answers or if I'm just trying to analyze all the answers that have already been sent my way.

The question?

If your life was a movie, would you watch it?

I don't know. I know for sure I'd be screaming at me the whole time, trying to get me to do things differently. {I wonder if that's what the Holy Ghost has been doing all along?} The Academy would have a very difficult time assigning a genre to my movie, that's for sure! And I'm not sure when I was handed the script but I'm constantly amazed that I accepted it. I mean, really? There's no specific role assigned to me. Maybe at the time that sounded exciting and challenging. Maybe I thought I would be so well- rounded if I could pull off a movie playing so many different roles. Well, I'm well-rounded {physically, of course} but I'm not sure it's benefited me any other way! There aren't even make-up or wardrobe changes in between a lot of the role changes. How low budget is that?

Michael McLean performs a song entitled, "What Part is Mine". The lyrics describe a woman in different stages of her life praying to know what 'part' is hers. The analogy centers around singing in a chorus and how, once you know which part is yours, it's easier to sing the song. I've loved that song since the first time I heard it umpteen years ago and find myself often praying the same thing, "Heavenly Father, which part is mine? What's my role?" Wife, Daughter, Mother, Joker, Mother-in-Law, Grandma, Working Woman, Sister, Friend, Housekeeper, Enemy, Wise One, Mime, Dumb One, Crazy Person, Prisoner, Judge, Pacer, etc., etc., etc.?

I want a math 'answer' and there's no such answer in this script I have.

Oh, sure, there have been scenes where supporting thespians have helped me find my role {or point blank told me what my role was}. Very vivid, visual scenes with award-winning acting. But while I was considering this question and once again reviewing my script, an epiphelation fell and hit me on the head {obvious set malfunction} about as hard as any epiphelation has ever hit me on the head before.

The epiphelation?

I have no one role. Never have had. Never will have. Accept it!

So, there I have it. There is no math answer for my quandary as to my role or my part or my place. The plot of this whole movie of mine is built around the idea that I have to be able to perform in whatever role the script throws at me; whenever it throws it at me. Not a math answer but I think it's the best one I'm going to get.

Thank goodness I've got a great cast who can pick up when I forget my lines or can't say them at all! What an awesome editing team there will have to be in order to bleep out a few {very few, I'm sure} words or lines here and there. And it's a good thing I have a more eternal form of a 'stunt double' to help me through {if not fill in for me} during the dangerous, scary scenes when I don't feel adequate!

Like my original answer to this question when it was first presented, I still think I'd still prefer to have my movie be an animated one - like Toy Story. It's so much easier to cheer on a set of toys trying to courageously make their way across the highway to get to the Toy Barn than it is some lifelike person who is too easy to relate to {studies have shown that to be a truth, by the way}. And I would want it to be a Comedy, too. Once you let yourself laugh, the sensitive scenes are more intense and then it's easier to laugh again while you're wiping away the tears and relaxing.

After all this analyzing and answer questing, I still haven't decided if I'd watch my movie or not, though. Maybe if Max goes with me and there's enough popcorn.