I just found out a couple of things. First, it sounds like Katie's mom is getting closer and closer to leaving us. Among other conditions, she is having an increasingly difficult time of being aware of her surroundings. Second, I have been asked to present the eulogy at her funeral. In light of these two items, I would like to post a brief tribute to my wonderful mother-in-law, Judith Anne Spendlove Fitzgerald ("Judy" for short). This tribute will be from my perspective and my interactions with her rather than a long life history.
I don't know much about Judy's childhood. I know she had some of the best parents anybody could ask for. Their names were George and Flora Spendlove. Her dad was a doctor and I am not exactly sure what her mom did, other than raise three fine daughters and a son. Raising four children is no small task and I am not trying to minimize her contribution to the world. After all, if it wasn't for the parents of our parents, and so on and so on, we wouldn't be here. More importantly, we most likely wouldn't be the type of person we are becoming.
Once Judy had grown up, she married C. Michael Fitzgerald ("Mike" for short) about 49 years ago. The marriage was destined to be great.
The first time I met Judy, Katie and I had just become engaged and I drove to West Jordan to meet her and Mike at their home. When I arrived, Katie was not there and I was forced to introduce myself to Mike and Judy. Needless to say, I turned on my old sarcastic charm.
We started our conversation and were exchanging life histories, stories of how Katie and I met, the Alaska vacation Katie's family took without me (it was because I didn't know them yet, but I think they should have waited), etc. About 10 or 15 minutes into the conversation, I figured they knew a little bit about who I was. Big mistake. I wanted to told them that I had been sent home a year early from my mission. Mike laughed and knew that I was kidding. I thought Judy also knew. I was wrong. About 5 minutes later she brought the subject back around to my being sent home early. Mike and I quickly explained that it was a joke and that I fulfilled my mission honorably. This taught me a lessen that you can never know who you are fooling, even when you don't intend to. Ever since this experience she always explained my sarcasm to anybody who she thought wouldn't get it (she thought nobody would get it). All kidding aside, I believe this experience built a lasting bond between Judy, Mike and I that still resonates today.
Another thing that struck me about Judy the first time I met her was her undeviating devotion to her husband, her kids, and her grandkids. She and Mike were kind enough to invite the entire family over the same night I met them so I could meet them and become acquainted with the children and my future in-laws. From my "fresh-off-a-mission-the-world-is-all-about-adults" perspective, the house was a complete zoo. Kids were running around, shouting, shooting each other with imaginary guns, and carrying on like a bunch of 2-10 year olds (which they were). Babies were crying and nursing. The house was like nothing I ever remembered experiencing. Having said all that, Judy enjoyed being with the family the entire time I was there. She doted on her grandkids, fed us a wonderful dinner, and drew out conversation from everybody. Since that time I have never known her to show anything but kindness and love to her entire family.
One question I always think of when I contemplate my own passing is what kind of legacy I will leave. Judy should feel confident that she is leaving the best kind of legacy: love, unity, and sacrifice.
Love- Judy has always expressed her love in words. Towards the end of her life she has gone out of her way several times to tell the in-laws, me included, how much she loves us.
In the past, when she wasn't as limited in physical ability, I saw very specific actions of love directed at me. When Katie and I were engaged, I ended up living in the home of Mike and Judy with Katie (Katie upstairs and me downstairs). Every day I had a fresh breakfast waiting for me when I got out of the shower. Every day I had an excellent lunch prepared and ready to eat when I sat down at work. Every day I was asked how my day went and to share any neat experiences I might have had that day. Most importantly, every day, she kept Katie and I honest in our relationship. She kept us out of trouble (she was the "police") and helped us learn more about in each other in three months than most couples learn about each other in a year.
Unity-Four specific things come to mind when I think of this word. First, being a united family was so important to Judy and Mike that they mortgaged their house to go on the infamous 6-week Alaska trip. As I said above, I wasn't around for this trip, but I do know from the videos and the picture collage that this trip was designed to unite the family.
The second thing that comes to mind was the importance that Judy placed on regular family gatherings. Every Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter, the family gathered for dinner, which was usually accompanied by some sort of a program.
The third and fourth things have to do with "grand" get-togethers in which I participated. The first was at Fish Lake for Mike and Judy's 40th anniversary. She and Mike paid for the entire family to stay in cabins for three days and to celebrate the family and the marriage that brought the family into being. We laughed. We cried. We laughed some more. We got annoyed with each other. We played a lot of Pinnochle. We created memories that will last a long time. The best part is that this gathering was accompanied by modern technology and highlights of the entire weekend were captured on a DVD.
The second was the family's final get-together before Grandma Judy's death. This occurred about four or five weeks ago and was set up with the specific goal of having one final opportunity to bring the entire family together and to celebrate Judy's life. Once again, we laughed, cried, annoyed each other, and played Pinnochle. This time, Grandma wasn't quite as coherent as other times we have gathered as a family. She was a little slower in her pace and a little slower in her mental acuity. But she still had that same smile and sense of satisfaction that came with seeing her family together. It just emanated from her. I think that in her mind it wasn't as much about celebrating her life as it was about seeing her family gathered together one last time before she passed. I hope and believe that both of these gatherings lived up to her expectations. I know they exceeded mine.
Sacrifice-I can't speak too much to this because I didn't know Judy when her children were younger. But I think it is important enough that it should be the capstone on her well-lived life. Judy didn't necessarily see her life as a sacrifice for others. For her, life was about serving others and ensuring their needs were met before her own. We had Judy and Mike over for Thanksgiving a few weeks ago. Katie and I wanted to pamper them and let them just sit back and enjoy the day. Unfortunately, we didn't do the dishes after we had finished eating. Even though it was painful for her, and we insisted several times that she not help, Judy did the dishes because it was something she enjoyed and because she wanted to serve us.
I believe that sacrificing for and serving others was one of the primary drivers in her life. In fact, I think part of the reason her body wore down as soon as it did was because of the tireless service and energy she put into every day of her life.
Katie has constantly complained that she is not the same kind of her mother as Judy was (I disagree, of course). Katie and I used to discuss how much her mom worked to provide for the childrens' needs. We also discussed her mom constantly going out of her way to make others feel comfortable and to find and help those in need, almost always at the expense of her personal comfort and convenience.
As much as it sounds like Judy was a saint, that may not have always been the case. She occasionally had a twinkle in her eye because of something mischievous she had done or wanted to do. I was not always the perfect son-in-law, either. There were were times when I became frustrated, like the fact that she insisted on doing the dishes at our home when we wanted her to sit and relax. But I have NO complaints about her as a mother-in-law and especially as my wife's mom and the kind of daughter she raised. Judy has always been, and will forever be, a wonderful, terrific, splendid mother-in-law and I love her and will miss her deeply. It is too soon to lose such a great person. The world is a better place because of her and will lose a great asset when she is gone.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
Letting Go of My Boxer
It is with great sadness that I post this ad for the sale of my Boxer, Dewey . . .
This is the beginning line of an ad I just placed on our local classified service, KSL.com. I am very sad about this because I absolutely love our dog. He is wonderful with children and everyone he has encountered. The problem is that I am on the road so often that I rarely have the opportunity to care for and walk him. As you most likely know, we have five kids, one of whom is still in diapers (which means his poop has to be cleaned up by Katie), another child who still asks for help wiping while on the toilet, and a dog who doesn’t know how to use the toilet. Katie says she had too much poop in her life before we purchased Dewey, but now it’s out of control.
I think that letting go will be difficult for me. I do have some experience with letting go—my maternal grandparents passed away when I was about 15. I discussed my Grandpa in a prior post. Suffice it to say that I had a close relationship with my grandparents and was extremely sad to lose them. Now I’m going to lose my dog, and will likely soon lose another person with whom I am extremely close, my wife’s mom. This post is not a “woe is me” column, but I just wanted to discuss the difficulties that come with letting go of something or someone we love.
Letting go can come in many forms—the death of a relative or close friend, the death or loss of a pet, moving, or changing jobs. Every one of these events have something in common: losing or changing the dynamics of a relationship we have previously enjoyed with a living, breathing thing we have come to develop a close, lasting bone.
As they say, time is the healer of all wounds. I don’t think time ever completely heals all wounds. My mom still tears up because she misses her parents, parents who have lost children to death still cry because they deeply miss their child. With a child, especially, there is always that curiosity of what they would have become, or as Kenny Chesney sings, “Who you’d be today.” I have other friends and acquaintances who lost their child not to death but to traumatic circumstances that completely changed the course of the child’s life.
In all cases, the question is how do we deal with it? The psychologists say we go through the five or so stages of grief—denial, anger, something, something, acceptance. They are the experts and definitely know more about this process than do I. Going through this process always takes time and we can sometimes go back and forth between the different stages.
Once we get to acceptance, I believe we become better, stronger, more resilient individuals. As discussed in a previous post, we discover what we are capable of in these challenging situations. Some people never make it to acceptance and discover that they have a challenge accepting drastic change. Other people move through the stages in a matter of minutes.
I don’t think that the quick process will be the case with me when we sell the dog. I also don’t think it will be the case with my wife when she loses her mom. It seems that no matter how well we prepare for an inevitable event in our life, it still is difficult to adjust and accept that the vent has happened. The first time I come home wanting to greet the dog and he won’t be there. The first time Katie wants to call her mom to tell her how frustrating I am or something cute the kids have done. The first time Katie’s father comes home to an empty home after the friends and family have left and he is all alone with his thoughts.
Enough about the things that cause grief and how it might hit us. I want to discuss our role as friends and acquaintances of the grieving individuals. I currently do not know what it feels like to go through the death of a parent, a spouse’s parent, or a spouse. I have some idea of the feeling of loss that comes from losing a pet, but not a pet as close as Dewey. Similarly, many of our friends who have been there to comfort Katie haven’t had the experience of losing a parent. There are also many friends and acquaintances who have been through this exact experience. In all cases, Katie especially has appreciated the kind words and the shoulders that have been used to cry on. The interesting thing is that many of our acquaintances who we didn’t otherwise know, but have experienced losing a parent, have gone out of their way to speak with Katie and to comfort, support, and empathize with her. There seems to be a bonding experience between individuals with shared experiences.
Katie has also been there for her siblings and father to grieve with them and to also buoy up their spirits. Many times, the person experiencing the traumatic experience is a source of strength to others around them. What causes this? I would venture to guess that it is hope. Hope to see their loved one again after they pass, hope to remember, laugh at, and relish the many wonderful experiences shared together with their loved one. Indeed, I believe we all have hope for a tomorrow that will be better than today as we go through the grieving process. However, we must also be prepared for a tomorrow that is worse than today as we go through the grieving process. The key is to accept the fact that we are having a bad day and to rely on others to help us through it. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with grieving and having difficult days.
I hope this post hasn’t come off as crass or self-serving or shallow because of my mention of the dog. Rather, I want to reach out a caring hand to those who are grieving for any reason, to ask for others to reach out a caring hand to my wife as she goes through her grieving process, and to thank those who have so unselfishly served and helped her since her mother was diagnosed with cancer. Don’t get me wrong, though—MANY, MANY people have reached out and I appreciate them immensely. I am convinced, however, that Katie will have ample reason to grieve over the next several weeks and months.
Thank you again for slogging through these posts. For some reason I get great satisfaction in knowing others red this blog and I hope you enjoy the thoughts that are shared.
This is the beginning line of an ad I just placed on our local classified service, KSL.com. I am very sad about this because I absolutely love our dog. He is wonderful with children and everyone he has encountered. The problem is that I am on the road so often that I rarely have the opportunity to care for and walk him. As you most likely know, we have five kids, one of whom is still in diapers (which means his poop has to be cleaned up by Katie), another child who still asks for help wiping while on the toilet, and a dog who doesn’t know how to use the toilet. Katie says she had too much poop in her life before we purchased Dewey, but now it’s out of control.
I think that letting go will be difficult for me. I do have some experience with letting go—my maternal grandparents passed away when I was about 15. I discussed my Grandpa in a prior post. Suffice it to say that I had a close relationship with my grandparents and was extremely sad to lose them. Now I’m going to lose my dog, and will likely soon lose another person with whom I am extremely close, my wife’s mom. This post is not a “woe is me” column, but I just wanted to discuss the difficulties that come with letting go of something or someone we love.
Letting go can come in many forms—the death of a relative or close friend, the death or loss of a pet, moving, or changing jobs. Every one of these events have something in common: losing or changing the dynamics of a relationship we have previously enjoyed with a living, breathing thing we have come to develop a close, lasting bone.
As they say, time is the healer of all wounds. I don’t think time ever completely heals all wounds. My mom still tears up because she misses her parents, parents who have lost children to death still cry because they deeply miss their child. With a child, especially, there is always that curiosity of what they would have become, or as Kenny Chesney sings, “Who you’d be today.” I have other friends and acquaintances who lost their child not to death but to traumatic circumstances that completely changed the course of the child’s life.
In all cases, the question is how do we deal with it? The psychologists say we go through the five or so stages of grief—denial, anger, something, something, acceptance. They are the experts and definitely know more about this process than do I. Going through this process always takes time and we can sometimes go back and forth between the different stages.
Once we get to acceptance, I believe we become better, stronger, more resilient individuals. As discussed in a previous post, we discover what we are capable of in these challenging situations. Some people never make it to acceptance and discover that they have a challenge accepting drastic change. Other people move through the stages in a matter of minutes.
I don’t think that the quick process will be the case with me when we sell the dog. I also don’t think it will be the case with my wife when she loses her mom. It seems that no matter how well we prepare for an inevitable event in our life, it still is difficult to adjust and accept that the vent has happened. The first time I come home wanting to greet the dog and he won’t be there. The first time Katie wants to call her mom to tell her how frustrating I am or something cute the kids have done. The first time Katie’s father comes home to an empty home after the friends and family have left and he is all alone with his thoughts.
Enough about the things that cause grief and how it might hit us. I want to discuss our role as friends and acquaintances of the grieving individuals. I currently do not know what it feels like to go through the death of a parent, a spouse’s parent, or a spouse. I have some idea of the feeling of loss that comes from losing a pet, but not a pet as close as Dewey. Similarly, many of our friends who have been there to comfort Katie haven’t had the experience of losing a parent. There are also many friends and acquaintances who have been through this exact experience. In all cases, Katie especially has appreciated the kind words and the shoulders that have been used to cry on. The interesting thing is that many of our acquaintances who we didn’t otherwise know, but have experienced losing a parent, have gone out of their way to speak with Katie and to comfort, support, and empathize with her. There seems to be a bonding experience between individuals with shared experiences.
Katie has also been there for her siblings and father to grieve with them and to also buoy up their spirits. Many times, the person experiencing the traumatic experience is a source of strength to others around them. What causes this? I would venture to guess that it is hope. Hope to see their loved one again after they pass, hope to remember, laugh at, and relish the many wonderful experiences shared together with their loved one. Indeed, I believe we all have hope for a tomorrow that will be better than today as we go through the grieving process. However, we must also be prepared for a tomorrow that is worse than today as we go through the grieving process. The key is to accept the fact that we are having a bad day and to rely on others to help us through it. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with grieving and having difficult days.
I hope this post hasn’t come off as crass or self-serving or shallow because of my mention of the dog. Rather, I want to reach out a caring hand to those who are grieving for any reason, to ask for others to reach out a caring hand to my wife as she goes through her grieving process, and to thank those who have so unselfishly served and helped her since her mother was diagnosed with cancer. Don’t get me wrong, though—MANY, MANY people have reached out and I appreciate them immensely. I am convinced, however, that Katie will have ample reason to grieve over the next several weeks and months.
Thank you again for slogging through these posts. For some reason I get great satisfaction in knowing others red this blog and I hope you enjoy the thoughts that are shared.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Let's Record our Life Story!
The following item was posted on November 30, 2009:
I am sitting on an airplane en route from Salt Lake to Dallas and figured this would be a good time to write an entry. First of all, the statement that last Wednesday was the “busiest travel day of the year” was not exactly true for me. When I arrived at the Dallas airport, it took me about 2 minutes to get through secur...ity, the airport was empty, and my flight had empty seats in coach and first class. First class is usually full because everybody wants an upgrade.
On to the subject at hand. As was discussed in my last post, I’ve been thinking about relationships and family over the last while, specifically our progenitors. About two months ago I transcribed a tape of a presentation my Grandpa (Mom’s dad) gave in High Priests Group. It was about a half hour long and it was his life history through 1983. I found out that he had a horrible illness as a child that should have killed him, that he worked in grocery stores for quite a while when he was first married, but that he was laid off as a result of complications related to the illness he had suffered as a child. I found out how he came to become an executive for the local railroad. I found out about some of his relatives and
interesting life of experiences of those relatives (I believe it was his grandpa
who was president of the St. George temple and was the brother of George Q.
Cannon).
The interesting thing is that when he told his life history, he didn’t think it he had done much and seemed to be embarrassed to be doing it. One of his opening comments was that he thought he would have a difficult time taking up the entire class with his history. Of course, I was enthralled to listen to this tape and did so a few times because I wanted to know as much about him as I possibly could.
So what does this mean about us? I’ll bet that our life history will be absolutely fascinating to and provide excellent learning experiences for our children and grandchildren long after we have passed on. It doesn’t matter if you were homeless, had a difficult life, or had a life that everybody else saw as “easy.” You and I have a legacy that we can and should pass onto the coming generations. So if anybody ever approaches you to make a tape about your life, or to write down some sort of a comprehensive autobiography, you should jump at the opportunity. Remember that you wouldn’t do this to boast about yourself or to make your life seem more important that others’. You would be doing it because future generations (especially those directly related to you) will want to read as much about you and your life as possible. It will be interesting not only because of the things you did, but also because it is a recording of culture and thoughts of the time in which you lived. And, heck, one of the neatest ways we can do this today is through the use of Facebook!
That’s all for today. Hope you enjoyed my soapbox discussion. Live long, prosper, and record your life! (I am probably one of the biggest hypocrites to be writing this, by the way).
I am sitting on an airplane en route from Salt Lake to Dallas and figured this would be a good time to write an entry. First of all, the statement that last Wednesday was the “busiest travel day of the year” was not exactly true for me. When I arrived at the Dallas airport, it took me about 2 minutes to get through secur...ity, the airport was empty, and my flight had empty seats in coach and first class. First class is usually full because everybody wants an upgrade.
On to the subject at hand. As was discussed in my last post, I’ve been thinking about relationships and family over the last while, specifically our progenitors. About two months ago I transcribed a tape of a presentation my Grandpa (Mom’s dad) gave in High Priests Group. It was about a half hour long and it was his life history through 1983. I found out that he had a horrible illness as a child that should have killed him, that he worked in grocery stores for quite a while when he was first married, but that he was laid off as a result of complications related to the illness he had suffered as a child. I found out how he came to become an executive for the local railroad. I found out about some of his relatives and
interesting life of experiences of those relatives (I believe it was his grandpa
who was president of the St. George temple and was the brother of George Q.
Cannon).
The interesting thing is that when he told his life history, he didn’t think it he had done much and seemed to be embarrassed to be doing it. One of his opening comments was that he thought he would have a difficult time taking up the entire class with his history. Of course, I was enthralled to listen to this tape and did so a few times because I wanted to know as much about him as I possibly could.
So what does this mean about us? I’ll bet that our life history will be absolutely fascinating to and provide excellent learning experiences for our children and grandchildren long after we have passed on. It doesn’t matter if you were homeless, had a difficult life, or had a life that everybody else saw as “easy.” You and I have a legacy that we can and should pass onto the coming generations. So if anybody ever approaches you to make a tape about your life, or to write down some sort of a comprehensive autobiography, you should jump at the opportunity. Remember that you wouldn’t do this to boast about yourself or to make your life seem more important that others’. You would be doing it because future generations (especially those directly related to you) will want to read as much about you and your life as possible. It will be interesting not only because of the things you did, but also because it is a recording of culture and thoughts of the time in which you lived. And, heck, one of the neatest ways we can do this today is through the use of Facebook!
That’s all for today. Hope you enjoyed my soapbox discussion. Live long, prosper, and record your life! (I am probably one of the biggest hypocrites to be writing this, by the way).
Thankful for Thanksgiving
The following item was posted on November 24, 2009:
This thing says, "What's on your mind?" That's a good question. I don't know what's on my mind because I've been working for about 12 hours now and am exhausted. But I'm sure that I can come up with something . . .
I'm in Dallas this week and get to return home tomorrow. I am flying on one of THE biggest travel days... of the year in one of the busiest airports on the country--DFW. I think that will build some character.
Just got off the phone with my family. Jessica said the evening prayer and said she was grateful that they could have a short school day tomorrow. That actually makes me smile thinking about it. I am happy for them. I am grateful to have a long 4-day no-work-weekend. We get to see Katie's family, then head to Price to see my family. Very nice.
When we were first married and lived in Logan with two children, we probably saw Katie's family once every other week and my family at least once a month. Now with five kids, we are lucky to get to Price every 3rd or 4th month. I guess that's just part of life--the larger and more involved your family becomes, the less time you have to dedicate to traveling to relatives and reacquainting yourself with friends.
That's why I'm thankful for a holiday that has to do with giving thanks! It provides ample opportunity to see family and relatives on at least an annual basis. The funny thing is that I always come away from Thanksgiving or Christmas meals/celebrations wishing I could have spent more time at said meal/celebration with the relative/acquaintance/friend, etc! I even have the sincere desire and wish to spend more time with the relative/friend/rarely-seen acquaintance during the upcoming year, but rarely, if ever do because of the amount of stuff we have going on. Whether it's on my side of the family or Katie's side of the family, we always enjoy seeing and visiting with family.
So if I don't see you this year for the holidays or say that I would like to see you again in the upcoming year but am unable to, please forgive me. It's not because I don't want to see you. It's because time, like the sands in an hourglass, just keeps sliding right through my fingers (deep, right?). Just know that you are loved and missed. At least we have face book!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
I'm off to bed now.
This thing says, "What's on your mind?" That's a good question. I don't know what's on my mind because I've been working for about 12 hours now and am exhausted. But I'm sure that I can come up with something . . .
I'm in Dallas this week and get to return home tomorrow. I am flying on one of THE biggest travel days... of the year in one of the busiest airports on the country--DFW. I think that will build some character.
Just got off the phone with my family. Jessica said the evening prayer and said she was grateful that they could have a short school day tomorrow. That actually makes me smile thinking about it. I am happy for them. I am grateful to have a long 4-day no-work-weekend. We get to see Katie's family, then head to Price to see my family. Very nice.
When we were first married and lived in Logan with two children, we probably saw Katie's family once every other week and my family at least once a month. Now with five kids, we are lucky to get to Price every 3rd or 4th month. I guess that's just part of life--the larger and more involved your family becomes, the less time you have to dedicate to traveling to relatives and reacquainting yourself with friends.
That's why I'm thankful for a holiday that has to do with giving thanks! It provides ample opportunity to see family and relatives on at least an annual basis. The funny thing is that I always come away from Thanksgiving or Christmas meals/celebrations wishing I could have spent more time at said meal/celebration with the relative/acquaintance/friend, etc! I even have the sincere desire and wish to spend more time with the relative/friend/rarely-seen acquaintance during the upcoming year, but rarely, if ever do because of the amount of stuff we have going on. Whether it's on my side of the family or Katie's side of the family, we always enjoy seeing and visiting with family.
So if I don't see you this year for the holidays or say that I would like to see you again in the upcoming year but am unable to, please forgive me. It's not because I don't want to see you. It's because time, like the sands in an hourglass, just keeps sliding right through my fingers (deep, right?). Just know that you are loved and missed. At least we have face book!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
I'm off to bed now.
How do We Define Love?
The following post was written November 20, 2009:
It's 10:30 and I really need some sleep (was up too late last night writing the post), but I've had something on my mind and want to get it off my chest. This seems like a great way to do that.
As I've been catching up with old friends, my mind has been drawn back to High School and a conversation I had with my dad. I... drove home one day and told him that I was in love. He kind of rolled his eyes and said, "You don't know what love is." What did he know? He didn't know my heart. I was really in love!! At least that's what I thought.
Fast forward to meeting my lovely wife Katie. The VERY first time I saw her, I knew we were going to get married. Don't ask me how or why--I just did. After we talked about it later, she had the exact same feeling as I did. Did that mean that I loved her? Of course not. It meant that I was at least infatuated with someone and wanted to see how it would progress. We got married shortly after that first encounter.
Life went pretty well for us the first few years of marriage. We were (still are) happy, there were no major health issues, no huge causes for concern (apart from the time I rolled the car because I wanted to hold her hand, but that's another story). All in all, life was good. But there was still this nagging feeling in the back of my head wondering if I REALLY loved her--you know, the kind of love that makes you want to absolutely live or die for somebody. Living in Logan, Utah and about three years into our marriage, I found out the answer to that question.
Katie had been having stomach pains for a few weeks. We went to the emergency room multiple times. One time the doctor blamed it on an upset stomach; another told her that her "movements" were stuck in the middle of her intestines. I think she was asked to drink that nuclear stuff that cleans out your system at least two or three times without success. After several days and weeks of frustration from these repeated doctor encounters, we finally found the "right" person. He performed an ultrasound and found a blood clot between her stomach and her intestine. This was a big problem. So big, in fact, they loaded her in an ambulance and took her to Salt Lake.
When I watched that ambulance drive away, it broke my heart (almost literally). I called my mom to apprise her of the situation and just broke down and bawled--couldn't talk for several minutes. I can't remember the last time I cried like that. That was when I knew without a doubt that I love my wife.
The funny thing about that kind of love is that you can't really describe it. For me, I love my wife but almost don't feel it. That sounds very strange, but here are the signs that tell me that I really love my Katie: You know you love the person because you can't stand being apart. You know you love the person because you don't know what life would be like without them (you can't imagine yourself without them). You know you love the person because when they are sick, a part of you is sick, too. You know you love the person because if that person were to ever pass on, a part of you would, too. You know you love the person because nobody else in the entire world knows you like they do, treats you like they do, and laughs at your lame jokes like they do.
So, I guess my question in this post is have you ever had a similar experience? Did you have a "moment" when you knew you loved your significant other, or have you just always known? I would be curious to know.
It's 10:30 and I really need some sleep (was up too late last night writing the post), but I've had something on my mind and want to get it off my chest. This seems like a great way to do that.
As I've been catching up with old friends, my mind has been drawn back to High School and a conversation I had with my dad. I... drove home one day and told him that I was in love. He kind of rolled his eyes and said, "You don't know what love is." What did he know? He didn't know my heart. I was really in love!! At least that's what I thought.
Fast forward to meeting my lovely wife Katie. The VERY first time I saw her, I knew we were going to get married. Don't ask me how or why--I just did. After we talked about it later, she had the exact same feeling as I did. Did that mean that I loved her? Of course not. It meant that I was at least infatuated with someone and wanted to see how it would progress. We got married shortly after that first encounter.
Life went pretty well for us the first few years of marriage. We were (still are) happy, there were no major health issues, no huge causes for concern (apart from the time I rolled the car because I wanted to hold her hand, but that's another story). All in all, life was good. But there was still this nagging feeling in the back of my head wondering if I REALLY loved her--you know, the kind of love that makes you want to absolutely live or die for somebody. Living in Logan, Utah and about three years into our marriage, I found out the answer to that question.
Katie had been having stomach pains for a few weeks. We went to the emergency room multiple times. One time the doctor blamed it on an upset stomach; another told her that her "movements" were stuck in the middle of her intestines. I think she was asked to drink that nuclear stuff that cleans out your system at least two or three times without success. After several days and weeks of frustration from these repeated doctor encounters, we finally found the "right" person. He performed an ultrasound and found a blood clot between her stomach and her intestine. This was a big problem. So big, in fact, they loaded her in an ambulance and took her to Salt Lake.
When I watched that ambulance drive away, it broke my heart (almost literally). I called my mom to apprise her of the situation and just broke down and bawled--couldn't talk for several minutes. I can't remember the last time I cried like that. That was when I knew without a doubt that I love my wife.
The funny thing about that kind of love is that you can't really describe it. For me, I love my wife but almost don't feel it. That sounds very strange, but here are the signs that tell me that I really love my Katie: You know you love the person because you can't stand being apart. You know you love the person because you don't know what life would be like without them (you can't imagine yourself without them). You know you love the person because when they are sick, a part of you is sick, too. You know you love the person because if that person were to ever pass on, a part of you would, too. You know you love the person because nobody else in the entire world knows you like they do, treats you like they do, and laughs at your lame jokes like they do.
So, I guess my question in this post is have you ever had a similar experience? Did you have a "moment" when you knew you loved your significant other, or have you just always known? I would be curious to know.
My Idiot Dog
I started doing blogs on Facebook and quickly realized that the better place to keep track of my posts would be in this forum. Consequently, I'm going to post all of the old Facebook posts here. The following was posted on November 19, 2009:
So, is this a blog or just a one or two sentence thing? I am going to go for something in the middle. If you don't want to read this, that's OK. But, why not use the power of the world wide web to pontificate?
So, today I found out that I am going to be traveling for a bit. Kind of sad because I will miss my family,... but grateful for a good project to work on and really good co-workers. Travel is the nature of my job. I have to admit, it's tough to be away from the family and activities going on. But at the same time, I really love what I do . .
To help ease the burden of the travel, we went and got a web cam today. Now Katie, the kids and I can talk live and see each other while we are apart!! That is truly awesome. I do think, however, that the littlest children will hog the camera when we talk.
In case you don't know, we have a Boxer, Dewey (that's him with my son, Josh). He's an idiot. I love him, but he's a real idiot. We left him outside on a lead today--by the time we got back, he had dug a nice hole in the yard. I guess I'm grateful for the sprawling nature of grass and that it should fill in the hole by the time I'm 90 (should be good as new, in fact).
Then, as I was out putting up a tether ball pole for the girls (please refer to family picture for a visual of the girls), I got an urgent call and ended up leaving Dewey outside without being attached to anything or fenced into the yard. Needless to say, he was gone as soon as I left. The neighbors around us truly have a lot of patience because they have had ample opportunities to call the pound on our idiot, lovable dog, yet they haven't. Yay for us (there are some days that I wish they would, though). Anyway, back to the story.
Dewey has a BFF boxer in the neighborhood, owned by one of my "facebook friends," Ashley Tanner. The boxer's name is Rosie. Rosie is actually the dog who inspired me to get a boxer after I begged, pleaded, and lied by telling Katie that I would be responsible for feeding, bathing, and cleaning up after the dog. I had good intentions of actually doing all of those tasks when we got him, but travel and a sincere lack of desire has prevented me from taking responsibility for my own dog. Katie is a much better person than I am!
To make a super long story even longer, I found Dewey at his favorite stomping grounds, Rosie's house, playing like an idiot! As soon as he saw me, though, his ears perked up and he was on his way home. At that point, I was sure he wasn't as big of an idiot as I had thought. Then I came home and he had pooped on the floor.
That's it for tonight. Hope you enjoy your Friday!
So, is this a blog or just a one or two sentence thing? I am going to go for something in the middle. If you don't want to read this, that's OK. But, why not use the power of the world wide web to pontificate?
So, today I found out that I am going to be traveling for a bit. Kind of sad because I will miss my family,... but grateful for a good project to work on and really good co-workers. Travel is the nature of my job. I have to admit, it's tough to be away from the family and activities going on. But at the same time, I really love what I do . .
To help ease the burden of the travel, we went and got a web cam today. Now Katie, the kids and I can talk live and see each other while we are apart!! That is truly awesome. I do think, however, that the littlest children will hog the camera when we talk.
In case you don't know, we have a Boxer, Dewey (that's him with my son, Josh). He's an idiot. I love him, but he's a real idiot. We left him outside on a lead today--by the time we got back, he had dug a nice hole in the yard. I guess I'm grateful for the sprawling nature of grass and that it should fill in the hole by the time I'm 90 (should be good as new, in fact).
Then, as I was out putting up a tether ball pole for the girls (please refer to family picture for a visual of the girls), I got an urgent call and ended up leaving Dewey outside without being attached to anything or fenced into the yard. Needless to say, he was gone as soon as I left. The neighbors around us truly have a lot of patience because they have had ample opportunities to call the pound on our idiot, lovable dog, yet they haven't. Yay for us (there are some days that I wish they would, though). Anyway, back to the story.
Dewey has a BFF boxer in the neighborhood, owned by one of my "facebook friends," Ashley Tanner. The boxer's name is Rosie. Rosie is actually the dog who inspired me to get a boxer after I begged, pleaded, and lied by telling Katie that I would be responsible for feeding, bathing, and cleaning up after the dog. I had good intentions of actually doing all of those tasks when we got him, but travel and a sincere lack of desire has prevented me from taking responsibility for my own dog. Katie is a much better person than I am!
To make a super long story even longer, I found Dewey at his favorite stomping grounds, Rosie's house, playing like an idiot! As soon as he saw me, though, his ears perked up and he was on his way home. At that point, I was sure he wasn't as big of an idiot as I had thought. Then I came home and he had pooped on the floor.
That's it for tonight. Hope you enjoy your Friday!
Friday, December 4, 2009
When Traveling, Always Acknowledge the "Rule"
A few months ago, Katie, my wife, was flying to see me while I was in Philadelphia. When she got on the plane and was seated, she wanted to talk to the gentleman sitting next to her, but quickly learned the “Rule” of traveling on airplanes and encountering strangers in general: don’t make eye contact with or acknowledge in any way that they exist. Even if your elbows touch the entire plane ride. Harsh, I know, but true.
At some point during the flight, the gentleman spilled his coffee all over him and all over his seat. Because of the Rule, the accidental spilling of the coffee happened in a vacuum and nobody saw it, heard it, or was aware of it except for the gentleman who did the spilling. Katie’s first inclination was to help the man, but by then had learned the Rule. Nothing was said, no eye contact was made. The gentleman calmly stood up, went to the bathroom, wiped himself off as best he could, and returned to the seat with several paper towels from the bathroom. He put the stack on the seat and sat on them for the remainder of the flight as though nothing had happened. Not a word was spoken by Katie or the gentleman about the incident, and both parties left the plane with an unspoken understanding that the incident never happened.
On another occasion, I had boarded a tiny Canadair regional jet and had put my armrest down. For those of you who aren’t familiar with this plane, a designer somewhere in a cramped office sat down and said, “How can we make 60 people believe they are flying in an over-sized sardine can?” To this individual’s credit, he succeeded in creating the perfect over-sized flying sardine can. The person who was assigned the seat next to me was a little large for the seat. He sat down, lifted the arm rest without saying a word or acknowledging my presence (remember the Rule) and we spent the flight uncomfortably close to each other all the while pretending the other person didn’t exist.
This same thing happens in elevators all the time. It is so bad that I could have a 5-minute elevator ride with somebody and neither of us would speak to or acknowledge the presence of the other. It would be no different if a wall automatically slid between the other person and me.
On the rare occasions when the Rule is broken (especially on the airplane) I usually regret the breaking of the Rule. I’m sure people who have flown next to me feel the same way. The person who originally breaks the Rule usually prattles on for the entire flight about a subject the other person knows or cares little about. How rude am I to acknowledge that I don’t like people breaking the Rule? All I want to do on most flights is sit down, put on my headphones and tune out the world around me for a few hours. Right now I am listening to Nutcracker Highlights. Very relaxing and conducive to critical thought. I would be terribly annoyed if somebody broke the Rule while I am writing about the Rule.
Another story of the Rule was of a lady on a train in Japan. Apparently the trains there are so crowded that you literally stand centimeters apart. After the lady got onto a train, a man much shorter than her ended up standing next to her with his face right in her chest. They were aware of the Rule. Neither said a word and walked away with an unspoken mutual understanding that the uncomfortable event never happened.
I wonder if sardines practice the Rule before they die. Do they look at the fish next to them, knowing they are about to die, and pretend the other fish doesn’t exist? Do they know they will spend the rest of their lives, and the first few months after their death, spooning? If I was going to be forced to spoon with a complete stranger for the last few months of my life, I’d like to get to know them to avoid some awkwardness.
What was the origin of the Rule? Is it a part of our evolution into modern culture? I can’t imagine the Israelites, as they passed through the Red Sea, pretending that the person in the chariot next to them didn’t exist, or the Mormon pioneers pretending that the person in the handcart or covered wagon next to them wasn’t there. I also doubt that strangers ignored each other as they navigated the Oregon Trail.
I grew up in a small town and was unaware of the Rule. I knew that I shouldn’t talk to scary-looking strangers, but I didn’t hesitate to make conversation with the lady at the convenience store. After I learned the Rule, my paradigm was rewritten.
As I think about this, I believe that the primary origination of the Rule is the mere fact that we are more in touch with our things than with each other. We have lost the bonding that comes from a common purpose. We are all in a hurry, driving in our cars, walking to and from work, school, going in elevators to meetings, and flying to far-away places. The only people we usually acknowledge are those we encounter on a regular basis, and even that is difficult sometimes as conversations can die very quickly.
What can be done about the Rule? I believe we as a people would be better off if the Rule didn’t exist. We would be able to connect with strangers and have more compassion for those around us. We would likely be more forgiving of the “stinky meany” (as my sister used to say) who cut us off on our way to work. In short, the world around us would probably be a more pleasant, fulfilling place. Hopefully some of us can bend the Rule and make someone’s day a little brighter by offering a friendly “hello” or smile.
Thanks for reading. I’m off to spend a satisfying weekend with my family!
At some point during the flight, the gentleman spilled his coffee all over him and all over his seat. Because of the Rule, the accidental spilling of the coffee happened in a vacuum and nobody saw it, heard it, or was aware of it except for the gentleman who did the spilling. Katie’s first inclination was to help the man, but by then had learned the Rule. Nothing was said, no eye contact was made. The gentleman calmly stood up, went to the bathroom, wiped himself off as best he could, and returned to the seat with several paper towels from the bathroom. He put the stack on the seat and sat on them for the remainder of the flight as though nothing had happened. Not a word was spoken by Katie or the gentleman about the incident, and both parties left the plane with an unspoken understanding that the incident never happened.
On another occasion, I had boarded a tiny Canadair regional jet and had put my armrest down. For those of you who aren’t familiar with this plane, a designer somewhere in a cramped office sat down and said, “How can we make 60 people believe they are flying in an over-sized sardine can?” To this individual’s credit, he succeeded in creating the perfect over-sized flying sardine can. The person who was assigned the seat next to me was a little large for the seat. He sat down, lifted the arm rest without saying a word or acknowledging my presence (remember the Rule) and we spent the flight uncomfortably close to each other all the while pretending the other person didn’t exist.
This same thing happens in elevators all the time. It is so bad that I could have a 5-minute elevator ride with somebody and neither of us would speak to or acknowledge the presence of the other. It would be no different if a wall automatically slid between the other person and me.
On the rare occasions when the Rule is broken (especially on the airplane) I usually regret the breaking of the Rule. I’m sure people who have flown next to me feel the same way. The person who originally breaks the Rule usually prattles on for the entire flight about a subject the other person knows or cares little about. How rude am I to acknowledge that I don’t like people breaking the Rule? All I want to do on most flights is sit down, put on my headphones and tune out the world around me for a few hours. Right now I am listening to Nutcracker Highlights. Very relaxing and conducive to critical thought. I would be terribly annoyed if somebody broke the Rule while I am writing about the Rule.
Another story of the Rule was of a lady on a train in Japan. Apparently the trains there are so crowded that you literally stand centimeters apart. After the lady got onto a train, a man much shorter than her ended up standing next to her with his face right in her chest. They were aware of the Rule. Neither said a word and walked away with an unspoken mutual understanding that the uncomfortable event never happened.
I wonder if sardines practice the Rule before they die. Do they look at the fish next to them, knowing they are about to die, and pretend the other fish doesn’t exist? Do they know they will spend the rest of their lives, and the first few months after their death, spooning? If I was going to be forced to spoon with a complete stranger for the last few months of my life, I’d like to get to know them to avoid some awkwardness.
What was the origin of the Rule? Is it a part of our evolution into modern culture? I can’t imagine the Israelites, as they passed through the Red Sea, pretending that the person in the chariot next to them didn’t exist, or the Mormon pioneers pretending that the person in the handcart or covered wagon next to them wasn’t there. I also doubt that strangers ignored each other as they navigated the Oregon Trail.
I grew up in a small town and was unaware of the Rule. I knew that I shouldn’t talk to scary-looking strangers, but I didn’t hesitate to make conversation with the lady at the convenience store. After I learned the Rule, my paradigm was rewritten.
As I think about this, I believe that the primary origination of the Rule is the mere fact that we are more in touch with our things than with each other. We have lost the bonding that comes from a common purpose. We are all in a hurry, driving in our cars, walking to and from work, school, going in elevators to meetings, and flying to far-away places. The only people we usually acknowledge are those we encounter on a regular basis, and even that is difficult sometimes as conversations can die very quickly.
What can be done about the Rule? I believe we as a people would be better off if the Rule didn’t exist. We would be able to connect with strangers and have more compassion for those around us. We would likely be more forgiving of the “stinky meany” (as my sister used to say) who cut us off on our way to work. In short, the world around us would probably be a more pleasant, fulfilling place. Hopefully some of us can bend the Rule and make someone’s day a little brighter by offering a friendly “hello” or smile.
Thanks for reading. I’m off to spend a satisfying weekend with my family!
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Frustrating Wives
I have been thinking the last few days about how frustrating it is to live with my wife. I know, I know, that sounds terrible. But hear me out and maybe you'll understand. I will list out my specific grievances below.
Grievance No. 1: My wife doesn't give herself enough credit for the good things she does and the mother that she is. About a week ago Katie was saying our couples prayer, and said something about how she felt inadequate or wasn't a good mother or something like that. When she made that statement, I almost laughed out loud during the prayer! I just couldn't believe someone who does as good of a job as she does would feel so inadequate.
Grievance No. 2: My wife is too picky about the state of the house (specifically the areas in which she is in charge). Don't get me wrong, I want the house as clean as the next guy. I like things to be tidy and to be cleaned up, to a certain point. Katie, on the other hand, can get down on herself if it isn't perfect. Doesn't she know that we love her for who she is and not for the state of the house? I was so grateful the other night when she decided that the dishes could wait until morning and instead could spend quality time with me watching 'So You Think You Can Dance.' I can just hear the comments coming, "If you would only help out more, she wouldn't be so worried about the state of the house!!!!" That is true and I try to help out, but I can definitely do better.
Grievance No. 3: My wife is very hard on herself about how she parents the children. She is concerned that she can have a HUGE influence on their lives and even goes so far as to parent them as if that's the case. I concede that she does have a HUGE influence on their lives; I will even concede that she is perfectly suited to be the mother of our children, and that she does an excellent job. What I won't concede is that she is under-qualified or does a poor job.
As you can see, my opening statement was more tongue in cheek than real. It seems like there are endless posts/thoughts/speeches/talks about why women are too hard on themselves and what they can do to battle the self doubt and depression that comes from such negative self-talk. Here's my two cents.
There are countless examples of mothers doing things they never dreamed that they would do (both good and bad). I was talking to a friend of mine who was barely pregnant and had an 2-yr.old she was dealing with at the same time. For whatever reason the 2-yr.old did something that was not approved. The mother swatted the 2-yr. old on the behind and proceeded to feel guilt/remorse/shame for two straight days. When she told me, I chuckled because I've done similar things countless times, AND I didn't have the excuse of excessive pregnancy hormones!
On the flip side of that example, how many moms do you know who stay up all night with their sick child? How many moms go to bed deathly ill with the flue or cold and end up getting up in the night with their child who has just vomited all over their bedroom? My mom did that, Katie does that, and I am sure you are or you know somebody who does or did that. I, on the other hand, am NOT very good at doing that.
In both of these examples, did the person ever believe they could do such a thing? I don't know, but it is likely that nobody would have much of a desire to do either. Circumstances can bring out the best and worst in us, and a person cannot be judged by one of their worst moments; conversely, they can't be judged by their best moments, either.
The way I see it, everybody's personalities and experiences make them a package of sorts. Packages have wrinkly parts; they also have smooth, almost perfect, parts. When somebody looks at that package, they see something beautiful and want to know more about it and see what's inside. The same thing can be said about us--we have our wrinkly parts that are sometimes difficult to accept. We also have the straight, perfelcty creased parts that we like to show off. But when we are alone, with nothing but our thoughts, which part of the package do we focus on? Do we focus on the wrinkles, or on the crisp, smooth parts? I hope it's on the crisp, smooth parts. Even though I've written mostly about being a mother, I think this applies to many aspects of life, whether it's work, being a spouse, churchgoer, community organizer, etc., we all seem to be much harder on ourselves that outsiders are on us (unless we are in politics, but that is another story).
For those folks who suffer from depression or focus on their "wrinkles," try to look at yourself through a loved one's eyes. They do see some of your "wrinkles," but they mostly see all of your crisp, smooth edges and for the complete package that you are and that you are becoming. You are most definitely loved and appreciated. Most specifically, for my wife, you need to know that what you do will always be good enough for me, that you are the complete package I always looked for and hoped I would somehow find, and that you have always exceeded my expectations.
Grievance No. 1: My wife doesn't give herself enough credit for the good things she does and the mother that she is. About a week ago Katie was saying our couples prayer, and said something about how she felt inadequate or wasn't a good mother or something like that. When she made that statement, I almost laughed out loud during the prayer! I just couldn't believe someone who does as good of a job as she does would feel so inadequate.
Grievance No. 2: My wife is too picky about the state of the house (specifically the areas in which she is in charge). Don't get me wrong, I want the house as clean as the next guy. I like things to be tidy and to be cleaned up, to a certain point. Katie, on the other hand, can get down on herself if it isn't perfect. Doesn't she know that we love her for who she is and not for the state of the house? I was so grateful the other night when she decided that the dishes could wait until morning and instead could spend quality time with me watching 'So You Think You Can Dance.' I can just hear the comments coming, "If you would only help out more, she wouldn't be so worried about the state of the house!!!!" That is true and I try to help out, but I can definitely do better.
Grievance No. 3: My wife is very hard on herself about how she parents the children. She is concerned that she can have a HUGE influence on their lives and even goes so far as to parent them as if that's the case. I concede that she does have a HUGE influence on their lives; I will even concede that she is perfectly suited to be the mother of our children, and that she does an excellent job. What I won't concede is that she is under-qualified or does a poor job.
As you can see, my opening statement was more tongue in cheek than real. It seems like there are endless posts/thoughts/speeches/talks about why women are too hard on themselves and what they can do to battle the self doubt and depression that comes from such negative self-talk. Here's my two cents.
There are countless examples of mothers doing things they never dreamed that they would do (both good and bad). I was talking to a friend of mine who was barely pregnant and had an 2-yr.old she was dealing with at the same time. For whatever reason the 2-yr.old did something that was not approved. The mother swatted the 2-yr. old on the behind and proceeded to feel guilt/remorse/shame for two straight days. When she told me, I chuckled because I've done similar things countless times, AND I didn't have the excuse of excessive pregnancy hormones!
On the flip side of that example, how many moms do you know who stay up all night with their sick child? How many moms go to bed deathly ill with the flue or cold and end up getting up in the night with their child who has just vomited all over their bedroom? My mom did that, Katie does that, and I am sure you are or you know somebody who does or did that. I, on the other hand, am NOT very good at doing that.
In both of these examples, did the person ever believe they could do such a thing? I don't know, but it is likely that nobody would have much of a desire to do either. Circumstances can bring out the best and worst in us, and a person cannot be judged by one of their worst moments; conversely, they can't be judged by their best moments, either.
The way I see it, everybody's personalities and experiences make them a package of sorts. Packages have wrinkly parts; they also have smooth, almost perfect, parts. When somebody looks at that package, they see something beautiful and want to know more about it and see what's inside. The same thing can be said about us--we have our wrinkly parts that are sometimes difficult to accept. We also have the straight, perfelcty creased parts that we like to show off. But when we are alone, with nothing but our thoughts, which part of the package do we focus on? Do we focus on the wrinkles, or on the crisp, smooth parts? I hope it's on the crisp, smooth parts. Even though I've written mostly about being a mother, I think this applies to many aspects of life, whether it's work, being a spouse, churchgoer, community organizer, etc., we all seem to be much harder on ourselves that outsiders are on us (unless we are in politics, but that is another story).
For those folks who suffer from depression or focus on their "wrinkles," try to look at yourself through a loved one's eyes. They do see some of your "wrinkles," but they mostly see all of your crisp, smooth edges and for the complete package that you are and that you are becoming. You are most definitely loved and appreciated. Most specifically, for my wife, you need to know that what you do will always be good enough for me, that you are the complete package I always looked for and hoped I would somehow find, and that you have always exceeded my expectations.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Mission Statement
This is my first official blog entry. Pretty exciting. I have decided (much like the John Travolta character in Phenomenon) that I might have something useful to contribute to the world and would like to have the opportunity to share it. I hope to treat this blog as more of a bi-weekly to weekly "column." I'm not sure what I will say or if there will ever be any rhyme or reason to the flow of my posts, but I enjoy writing and seem to have thoughts on a regular basis that I want to share.
According to my wife, it is also a good way for her to get to know me better because I share thoughts here that I don't normally share around the house. I think it's because I have a much easier time writing my thoughts than actually speaking them out loud, especially the more personal thoughts that are related to hard-to-describe feelings.
It seems like I should have some sort of a mission statement for my blog. My mission statement is this: to entertain readers, but mostly to provide thought-provoking posts that will inspire them to look at themselves and think about they can better themselves or the world around them.
This mission statement is geared more toward me than to anybody else. It is one thing to have a thought, but it is quite another to act on that thought after it has occurred and after the heat of the moment has passed.
I need to sleep now--it's past 10:30 and sleep seems like a welcome friend. I have a topic I want to discuss, but it will have to be discussed tomorrow when I'm not so tired. Good night.
According to my wife, it is also a good way for her to get to know me better because I share thoughts here that I don't normally share around the house. I think it's because I have a much easier time writing my thoughts than actually speaking them out loud, especially the more personal thoughts that are related to hard-to-describe feelings.
It seems like I should have some sort of a mission statement for my blog. My mission statement is this: to entertain readers, but mostly to provide thought-provoking posts that will inspire them to look at themselves and think about they can better themselves or the world around them.
This mission statement is geared more toward me than to anybody else. It is one thing to have a thought, but it is quite another to act on that thought after it has occurred and after the heat of the moment has passed.
I need to sleep now--it's past 10:30 and sleep seems like a welcome friend. I have a topic I want to discuss, but it will have to be discussed tomorrow when I'm not so tired. Good night.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
