On Being Flexible

I've got lots of assignments right now. My days and nights are full of thoughts and ideas for fulfilling them. I plan my days carefully to make sure all my bases are covered. But plans are meant to be altered. I rarely get through a planned day uninterrupted. But I believe I am learning not to fret over this. I am proud to say that I think I am getting much better at flexibility. I was put to the test this week.

My daughter-in-law Dorothy has been babysitting Ben and Jessica's five children this past week while B & J were in Europe. Dorothy is amazing with children. She handled all those babes very well. Reed, who is looking for a job, stayed home with their four boys during this time. On Monday Dorothy called to see if she could bring the BJ kids over for a visit. It was a holiday, you see. "Of course" I told her, and meant it. She mentioned that Reed was also coming with the four boys. So I dropped my plans for the day and embraced our sweet invasion. Happily the children romped, played and ate until we needed to leave for a Monday night Family Home Evening at a friend's house. So family left for family night. That just doesn't seem right, does it? It was a full but happy day with none of my goals for the day being met.

We went to the temple on Wednesday, always a sweet treat. Being there is so good for my soul. But we come home exhausted and usually take a nap to perk up for the rest of the day. Just as I was drifting off I heard a happy little voice at the front door exclaim, "Hi, we're here to spend the night with you!" It turns out that we wound up in the middle of a little Palo Alto adventure. Sometime that morning a private plane crashed, bringing down some electrical wires that caused a black-out in the surrounding Palo Alto area. Our BJ home was affected. To add to that, Dorothy awoke that morning feeling absolutely terrible. The loss of power in the house was the last straw for her. She bundled the kids up and brought them to our house, then went home and to bed!

You can see two of our little invaders above: B&J's Zachary and William.

So, for another day, we were happily entertained by busy little ones. We played with them, fed them, bathed them and put them to bed. Shortly after that Ben and Jes' flight arrived from Europe. They checked for power at home, then drove over to get the kids. They visited for awhile, packed up their sleeping babes, and went home. And so, by 10:30 PM it was as if nothing had happened.

I am amazed at how things come together. I have been able to prepare myself for all that I'm responsible for, even with all the interruptions. The Lord compensates when we look out for the people in our lives first. I've experienced this before too. So why do I doubt? Why do I fret? Why don't I remember this principle? The people versus stuff war is alive and well in our household. I'm happy to say that the people won this week. Now if I can just remember this.

Our granddaughter, Carmen, died one year ago on Thursday the 18th. Time passes quickly now, whether in celebration or in mourning. It seems like she just left. I was determined to visit her grave on this day and talked Layne into it. We loaded Mom in the car, bought some flowers, and headed out. We didn't do much at her grave, but it was important to me to be there; to think of her, to thank God for her and to never forget her. I reviewed her face, the sound of her voice, her laugh. I reviewed it all at her graveside. She is gone, but I am grateful that she once was here.

Love and things

Two of son Reed's boys play basketball. We determined that, before the season is over, we would attend some of the games. Monday we watched both James and Scott play. I really don't enjoy spectator sports. It helps to know a player or two, but I must steel myself to get all the way through a game. I've decided that one of the reasons is my strong sense of competition. Why doesn't the coach play James more? Here he is, siting on the bench. Why doesn't he train the players to actually win a game. Why doesn't Scott's coach train the boys to actually make a basket when they shoot? Here Scott watches the other team shoot. Why must I watch both teams get smeared by the opposition? Why must I concentrate on the score instead of enjoy watching my grandsons play? There is my problem. I think I need to squash my need to see them win and just enjoy them play. I'll try to do that, next time.

Speaking of competition, I watched granddaughter Allegra compete in a "mock trial" on Thursday night. Their charter school team performs in a real courtroom trying a fictitious murder case. We, the audience, were not allowed to speak, move, eat or chew gum for the two hours the courtroom drama took. But it was so fascinating, that wasn't as hard as it sounds. I love a mystery, you know. I personally found the defendant guilty. But the judge didn't agree. It was quite wonderful to see a bunch of kids work a courtroom with intelligence and style. Even though I was wrong about the verdict, I loved the experience. And Allegra's team goes on to the semi-final competition!

My family growing up was not big on verbal affections. There was lots of physical affection but not many "I love you's". So I had to work with my self to verbalize my love for my children and husband. Over the years I have found my voice but I still have trouble saying "I love you" with emotion. Valentine's Day calls for that, of course. I chose to express my affections in the safest way; through the written word. I filled the house with valentines for Layne, each with a loving sentiment just for him. It was such fun to do it! I loved seeing him discover each one. Why is it so pleasurable to give something to someone else? Who can say what magical workings inside of us are at work to make this so. But loving is joyful.

Saturday night we went to dinner at a place in Berkeley called "Skaters". We went with buddy Lyn Hooker and her husband, Jimmy. Layne and I rarely go to dinner. I've come to feel that eating out is a pretty expensive way to eat food. This place had delicious food and we had great seats, next to the bay. The company was good and the service was good. Our share of the bill was $100! So here's the thing: how good does food have to be to be worth $100? I'm thinking there is nothing that could cross my tongue that would be worth that to me. So, as much fun as our night was, we will probably never eat at Skaters again.

I taught my second Sunday school class today. I do my best to get a bunch of 13 and 14 year olds excited about the Old Testament. I am discovering all over again how much I love to teach. Especially I love to teach gospel ideas. I'm finding great joy in this so far. It is sweet to gather in gospel knowledge and to put cause and effect together. My mind explodes with ideas and regained knowledge. It seems to me that loving people and learning things which can be counted on to be true are the most satisfying things in life.

Little Miracles

The Galbraiths are not good picture takers. Past generations of them, that is. We have searched for good pictures of Layne's parents, grandparents and beyond, but, for the most part, they don't seem to exist. I tell you that as background for a little miracle that happened recently. Daughter Audrey and her family used one of Layne's folk's old chest of drawers for awhile. When they didn't need it any longer, she passed it on to a friend. Several weeks ago this friend sent Audrey a picture that she found under a drawer liner in that chest. What do you know, it is a picture of Layne's father, in the pink of his youth. There are so few pictures of him when he was young and in possession of a full head of blond hair. We think he is receiving a Junior Chamber of Commerce "Man of the Year" award. He's the man on the left. What do you think; does Layne look anything like him?

I am entering a period of time when I am feeling quite overwhelmed. Suddenly, or so it seems, I find myself buried in projects and assignments. There was a time, when I was younger, when such a feeling was common. But now that I'm an older woman, it is a bit more rare. So I am a little unaccustomed to having a new Sunday school class in addition to teaching a class on writing personal histories, helping with the upcoming youth pioneer trek, and taking charge of a group of girls for regular activity days. Oh yes, and working in the Temple each Wednesday. Then, of course, there is Mother. She takes lots of time, if I do my job correctly. She is my most important responsibility. So lately there seems to be little time for investing in my own projects. Of course most of these activities will end soon enough, but, for now, I am busier than I'd like to be. All of this activity reinforces my desire to be better organized. It is the challenge of a lifetime.

One of our foster daughters from Mongolia was here this past weekend, visiting with her family. She married an American cowboy. A smart American cowboy. They have two beautiful sons. It is such a joy to see how well matched and happy they are. I can't help feeling that their life together will bring blessings to more than themselves. Ryan and Bayaraa (Bayartsegtseg in Mongolian) Hopkins and their sons, Gordon and Nolan are a joy to me. I wish I could say that I knew what direction Bayaraa's life would take but I'm very good at being wrong about such things. We have three Mongolian daughters here in America. They are doing pretty much the opposite of what I thought they would be doing at this time in their lives. Hum. So much for inspiration or even intuition. I'm happy to say that my three girls seem to all be doing well.

Our local kids came on Sunday, to celebrate a couple of grandsons' birthdays (the birthday boys, Tim and Vincent are pictured below) and to have our monthly extended Family Home Evening. It was fun as we all get along well. There often are small problems to solve, which troubles my perfectionist mindset, but I remind myself that all of our children are good people trying to do good things. How can I wish for more? Yet, sometimes I long for perfect understanding and acceptance. It seems to be so easy to misunderstand or misinterpret another's intent. In fact, that seems to be the rule of the day. Communication is a delicate art.

Our days are busy. But better busy than bored!