Dear Mom,

On your birthday each year, the past exits and a new beginning starts.

I wish I would have stuck around a bit more on your New Year's Eve birthday but there were those teen-age celebrations I just thought I had to get to.

I understand now that you wanted me to go have fun and that your birthday was just another day to you, except with cards and cake.

You were happiest seeing your kids happy. I feel the same way.

I wish you were still here though. Not gonna lie.

It's not with sadness I say that, just wishing from my heart. But it would be so great to chat on the phone and tell you funny things the kids do or hear about those twilight zone adventures of, shall we say, your "interesting" neighbors. Your rebellious side was always so endearing to me.

I feel bad for women who don't get along with their mothers. I also feel bad for mothers who don't realize the magnitude of their call. I remember years back I mentioned in one of our hours long talks, I felt that I had let a bit of life slip by. That I could have done more when I had more free time. And your response was, "You are. You're having children." I said that anyone can have a child though and then you said, "True, but sadly, not everyone will raise them well. And raising children well is more than doing anything else."

And then you added that the time would come when I could fit it all in - it's just about balance, timing and drive - no worries, it will happen you said. You were so right.

I know you were not a perfect mother and I'm not either, but your love was.

And your mothering effect continues.

I don't know if you celebrate your birthday in heaven or the day you returned there but I hope you are enjoying it. I'm so happy life continues on both sides, that's cool.

How far that little candle throws its beams

As I was coming inside the house from a morning walk, my husband met me outside and gave me a kiss good-bye. With his hand on my shoulder, he said, "Don't doubt yourself" like only someone who completely has your best interest at heart can do. I said with a smile, "No worries!" and I truly meant it. I had no worries at that moment. I have made some work decisions and for a brief moment in an earlier conversation with Jon, he saw a moment of self-doubt. Nothing that a nice walk couldn't fix and of course, his loving concern.

I came inside the house and my littlest ones were holding up pudding cups.
"Why not?" I said, "It's calcium." And we ate it for breakfast.

Then I sat down to the computer and in my in box was a forwarded message from my brother. It was titled "Carolina's testimony." I assumed it was another short story for me to review and edit. So, I was intrigued and opened it.

The message read:

Hi Mr. Dobson,

My name is Andrea. I lived in Logan, UT around the corner from your mother Carolina. I moved away in 2005 so I didn't know she had passed away. I recently found an old cassette tape with her testimony on it and I am sending you a copy. I truly loved your mother and when I heard her voice on the tape I knew that she would want you to have it so I found your name in an obituary for Carolina and looked up your address in a google telephone directory. Your wife gave me your email.

I hope you have a great day!

So, I clicked the mouse on the attachment and waited for the download. Reaching to turn on the speaker, I also adjusted the volume.

And then I heard her.

I haven't heard her voice in 2 and a half years. And instantly my eyes teared up as I listened and smiled at her inflections. Being so used to her voice, I could never hear her accent. But I heard it now and for the first time, I understood why all my friends would tell me how cute it was. On this audio, she was speaking in church about God, her children and our families and she sounded nice.

Although I have wished for a few years that I could chat with her again, to get her counsel, I've never really been sad. Just wishful but happy still.

And now I am so happy for many things. But right now for technology and that someone (Andrea) acted on her feeling to spread some kindness. She did it not knowing that someone, somewhere (me) was having a lack of faith in her decisions.

And maybe it would be good to hear from my mom right about now.

I think I'll celebrate by having some more pudding.

The kids are napping...they'll never know.

Hugs,

Laura

It still makes me laugh

I guess I should have done this on Post-it note Tuesday, oh well.

An 8 year old's foray into the world of wine

I'm thinking this is what my arm may have looked like at 8 years old?..read on..

I quietly made my way to the staircase banister to peek around and see what the big deal was in my living room. There were chairs all over the place. I wondered where we had gotten all of these chairs.

Seeing in to the dining room, I noticed the table even had all three leaf extensions in it. This must be some shin dig, I thought.

My cousins wanted to have a crystal party but felt their space was too small to host a large gathering of people. I believe it was for a direct selling company for crystal glasses and dishes and their approach was to have a wine tasting party. My parents' living room was long and large with the space to provide multiple seating areas. So, although being LDS and my mom did not drink alcohol, she let my cousin and his wife host their party at our house.

I don't remember where my brothers and sister were at the time. Maybe at a church dance, school sporting event or just at a friend's house. Being the youngest and 7 years apart from the rest, I was often at home with my mom or dad while my siblings were out with friends. That evening, my mom told me to go upstairs for the night.

I really wanted to check out the party going on but I went and watched TV for a while. We lived a little out in the country and had no cable then. I ran through the few channels we had and they were all news programs, PBS or a Northwest magazine show. It was a really boring line-up to an 8 year old.

As I peered over the banister, I also had a view to the kitchen. There were plates of hors d'oeuvres on the counters and no one was milling around in there. "Oooh, cheese!" I said to myself.

I made my way in to the kitchen and snacked on a few varieties along with crackers. Some were soft cheeses with pungent smells and some were sweet. I decided to stick with good old Tillamook, still the best cheddar in my opinion.

My mom came in, let me get snacks and reminded me to head back upstairs. I asked for something to drink so she gave me a glass of water. I asked what everyone was having and she said they were drinking grape juice. I thought that sounded better and wondered why I wasn't having any. She went back to the other room and I looked around for grape juice.

I didn't see any in big plastic containers just in tall slim bottles. They were displayed on the dining table with crystal glasses and decanters so I went and poured myself some. I was stopped by the consultant in charge of this party. She said I couldn't have this kind of juice. I wondered what was up with these people and their tight grip on the grape juice?!

This denial of beverage peaked my interest so I decided to take matters in to my own hands. Because all of these adults were busy sniffing, swirling and tasting all types of juice and snacking on cheese, they didn't notice me crawl from the kitchen to the dining room table. The long tablecloth concealed me crouching below as I swiped a glass from the top. I was able to shimmy underneath the row of chairs and went undetected; lying down behind some coats draped over the backs.

When the server came around, I stuck out my arm and firmly held my glass amid the other people. To my delight I felt liquid being poured into my lead crystal glass. I did it and was happy I was so sneaky. So let's just see what is so special about this, I thought. And as quickly as I gulped it, I spat it out, gasping. It tasted like the way my teen-aged brother's gym socks smelled - Sour! I wiped my tongue with my sleeve. "Gross!

They could have just told me it was alcohol. I'm 8, not dumb you know," I said to myself. (Although by these antics, that is debatable.) My mom heard me choke, looked down to where I was, shook her head and held out her hand for the glass.

And I've been sober ever since.

Sweet Basil

January is National Soup Month so in its honor I made home made chicken noodle soup and rolls.
Not the most original soup out there but it warmed the kids' toes on a wintry day and was spicy enough to make them sniffly. I was rifling through my spices to find some Basil to add to the soup but I didn't have any on hand.
I suddenly remembered a box of herbs and spices that I brought back from my mom's house the summer before last. With bittersweet feelings, I spent 3 months there closing up her house and going through her belongings. Some items made me laugh, some flooded my mind with memories, others made my eyes mist and some made me question her taste.

When I got to the kitchen items, I went through all of the spices that she so carefully planted, harvested, dried and bottled in her vintage Ball jars with zinc lids. Some were not marked so I had a sniffing test which ruined my sense of smell for a while. She never liked her handwriting but I always told her that it is part of history and she should write rather than type so we don't lose the personal touch. There is comfort in the written word - being able to see one's hand writing.

As I lifted jars and plastic bottles out of the bin today, I inspected each. Some were store bought and had labels and others were in vacuum sealed pouches, unmarked.
I looked for Basil, hoping I'd find some and as I turned over the last blue jar, on its label in deliberate and beautiful, crooked hand writing were the words "Sweet Basil."

Chicken soup was good for my soul today.

A letter of sorts

I have missed you mom.

Happy Birthday. I bet you look as young as you were in this picture, ha ha.

I hope you are having a good time up in Heaven.

How's dad?

All the grand kids are well. Tori and Adrianna are in college, Braiden is excited for his mission in 2 years, Tami and Blair's kids are being home schooled. David tripped over his own feet at the airport and went rolling in front of the boarding gate, holding everyone up. Lisa laughed so hard but he was a good sport. You know how sweet he is. He also got his Eagle Scout award. Bryson and Blaise may fly out to visit us which will make Charley so happy. The girls are enjoying their voice lessons and everyone else is happy and growing quickly.

Blair Noel always asks if you sit on the clouds and what you eat for snacks.

I tell her you have the comfiest cloud in the sky and feast upon the Word of God.

You were good to me, mom. Thank you for all you did. I'll  never forget it.

xoxo
Laura