House ... My House

Shortly after I came home from my mission Buba and I were chatting about how there were no 'valuable' shows on TV, nothing worth my time. In the past three years I have found a few shows to keep myself entertained, Thursday night at 8 I find myself quite content with life. But there is one that Buba introduced me to immediately that I continue to love, House. I am intrigued by the character of Gregory House and I am often glued to the medical mystery ~ says the girl who gets woozy at the sight of blood, I know. Nonetheless, I like House.

Almost a year ago now I had a friend come in from out of town to contradict a diagnosis I had made several years ago on myself ~ nothing medical, I like doctors. He came to diagnosis a behavioral excuse I had come to rely on. He announced simply that I was wrong and then sighted some interesting facts to back up his thoughts. I sat and listened. It took me several months to understand that he was perhaps partly right about his diagnosis. It was only this past week that I came to understand that he was 100% correct about me ... chalk one of for stubbornness I suppose.

But I played like House this past year, trying to come up with anything and everything that would fit, that would prove that my initial diagnosis regarding MYSELF was correct. My little pile of excuses kept getting larger and larger until I would find a scapegoat of sorts to pin this on. Shortly after the pin I would realize I was off somehow, a misdiagnosis of sorts, and begin again. I even went so far as to take some seriously drastic and out of character measures to assure myself that things were out of my hands. Come to find out things are in my hands and have been the entire time. It simply took one of those ah-ha moments that Wilson usually provides to House for me to understand what is going on.

So to B ... you are right. Your complete diagnosis was a bit off, as to symptoms and such, but the over all conclusion is 100% accurate. Thanks for irritating me enough with the complete picture you saw, the irritation led to inspiration to get this all figured out. And to my respective Wilson ... thanks for the ear time.

O Lord that lends me life, lend me a heart replete with thankfulness.

Ten years ago, this particular Holiday, was much different in my family. You could find us up on the Lake Shore, all of us. Grams would be exhausted and attempting to cook a moist turkey, which she would never let Mom cook despite all of our pleading. The wives would be in a frenzy trying to get all of the sides, that were bound to be the great leftovers that following day because of some inherent-cook-too-much-trait, cooked. The husbands would be busy setting up tables and 'borrowing' chairs from the Church. The kids would be attempting to stay out of any adults eye sight so as to not be put to work. Once all of that was over, or someone with a loud enough voice had hit the limit of preparation, we would pile in the cars and head to the park. There would be a rousing game of football and the stress of a meal would disappear all together. We would return to the house to warm things up and sit down to eat. Gramps would wait patiently as all of made some smart-alec remark about something and then silence us all with his sincere prayer of gratitude for our family, our freedom, our Lord. For a few moments we would all reflect on how truly blessed our family found ourselves despite the challenges that loomed. Then the conversation would begin (the contents of which are not appropriate for this blog). The food would be enjoyed and then enjoyed a bit more. The men would do the dishes, Dad attempting not to break any of Grams precious china (I watched carefully as I knew these would be mine one day, most years we only lost one plate or salad bowl). The guitar would be pulled out and we'd gather around the piano for a night of Mount Music.

Things are a bit different now. It's after two and I'm not in a house that smells like turkey. Grams and a few siblings are in sunny CA with no worries about the looming flurries. A few of us remain in Our City to dine at a restaurant. The remainder will gather in the state to the south. But that does not stop my heart from being full of gratitude. These past few days B and I have been talking about traditions of yesterday and the hopes of those for the morrow. I've had the chance to share hour after hour, bless his patient heart, of stories that have shaped my life. Of course in my memory those political arguments or gross anatomy talk were a bit less intense and dividing. In my memory our voices knew the harmony and no one ever got sick and infected the whole house. In my memory the turkey was always my mom's perfectly moist bird. In my memory there was never a need for CPR or a trip to the hospital to figure out if that Old Uncle really had a broken wrist or if he was just a bit of wuss. In my memory there was always apple pie. In my memory those traditions are flawless, those people are perfect. I certainly miss those that I am far from, whether that be in merely a physical sense or even one of mortality. The gift that was each Thanksgiving Day is one that I will always cherish and be grateful for.

So my wish, this early Thanksgiving Morning (2:22 - which means it is bound to come true, right?) is that each of us have a Holiday that shapes us, that invokes feelings of love (my absence from that Red Political conversation might make that a bit easier), that reminds us that we truly have so much to be grateful for. Might Will's prayer be mine and yours today, that's William Shakespeare. MERRY THANKSGIVING!

My Lake

We sat in silence as the water splashed against the rocks. I could sit in silence until the sun came up but he wants to discuss things. He always does. However, he was new to my Lake. I was not encouraging of discussion as I refused the bait of his exasperated sighs. I wanted him to enjoy the comforting darkness ahead of us. There were a few more sighs but my bullheadedness won that battle.

*******

I was nine. The adults were diligently unpacking the house for Grams and Gramps and I meandered down to the waterfront. This was not a normal beach. There was no sand, just large boulders for my little webbed feet to walk. I walked for bit, when I turned around I could no longer see the house so I began the walk back. The bodies through the large window panes were still moving and I was not interested in unpacking another something and being ordered to take it to some unknown room. I found a large, smooth, grey-speckled-with-white-rock out at the waters edge and sat down. As I looked to the South and squinted I could see what I was certain was my City. As I looked to the North and squinted I was certain that Milwaukee was not far off. I was right in the middle, on my Lake. The day quickly faded away and the sun set behind me. The moon greeted me, directly ahead. It was huge and beautiful. I watched as it grew smaller and reached further up in the sky. It reflected off of my Lake with perfection.

********

As the moon crept up the black backdrop of the night the sighs disappeared all together. The moon shone perfectly along that deep blue, with a tail of light leading right to my rock. It was not fearful of the small ripples leading to the shore. It held its place in the sky and on the waters face, it knew its place. I had forgotten he was sitting next to me as the time moved on. He brought me back to reality as he squeezed my hand. I turned to look at him and found a common amazement in his eyes. It was now his Lake as well, his rock. I smiled and found the crook in his neck that I had come to call my own as well. “So this is why you don’t like the mountains of Utah?” He said with a smirk in his voice.

Hearing Things ...

People say things. Often I identify a particular saying with a particular person. I can be sitting in an airport a half a country or continent away and hear THEIR saying and my heart skips a beat or a smile crosses my face. Some of my favorite sayings … please note that I most definitely have heard these phrases OFTEN, which makes life fantastic and fun ...

I’ll be right there.
Keep smiling.
Cheer up Charlie.
Keep going.
And then you will say … no no no … you will say YES.
I don’t know.
I suppose.
Then Olivia and I met this guy … seriously.
Can we watch the Meredith show?
No, they said we could eat in the bed (YES ~ I’VE HEARD THIS MULITIPLE TIMES).
Take me there … no there … no there
Are you lost?
We are lost.
Magnum, did you get it?
When the girl gets the boy, well, that’s boring. The boy getting the girl, that’s the adventure.
Does he know that you come with one of me, no exceptions.
I’m driving, you driving?
I know.
I tried to get into Murder She Wrote. (Okay, I heard this once ~ that was enough!)
I moved … don’t jump!
It’s the Mormon in you.
It’s the Mount in you.
Marsha.
Hi … Hi … Hi.
Seriously! Seriously? Seriously.
Mom said so.
Are you coming home yet?
I’ve got this book …
I voted for … but only because …
Right here, you're right here.
Good morning Sunshine.

I’m smiling now.

Home in Utah

I like visitors. I like people I know coming and laughing about what we used to do, how things used to be. I like hearing the sound of the little ones laughing as we try our darndest to make them laugh. I like laughing as the Mafia becomes the Doctor and conspire together. I like watching my parents watch us. I like looking across the table and knowing he’s going to be there along with ice cream and Alice references. I like watching those I love love one another. I like hearing the same story over and over again. I like boys doing outside chores and girls doing the inside chores. I like Sunday morning pictures. I like honesty and frankness. I like sincerity and acceptance. I like saying goodnight in person and not over the phone. I like waking up to “Good morning Sunshine”. I like Home in Utah.

Here We Go

FOR ME ~

YAY for one long journey ending and in that ending leading to a new beginning full of opportunity! Last night as Wolf Blitzer made the announcement, something we had seen coming but feared to jinx it by acknowledging it, I felt a sense of … awe, completion, gratitude, respect, and love. When someone truly believes in the cause, the man behind the cause, and the future of that cause and is able to witness its first step to fulfillment ~ I don’t have the words, shocking I know. To have been at Grant Park, to have been home for this momentous occasion ... wow.

FOR YOU ~ Thank you. BBBB turned to me after a half an hour in the office and said "Did you get engaged or have a baby? These calls are just pouring in for you! " No such event, to the shirgrin of my parents I am confident. But to me, for me ... again, speechless.

Thank you for the support you've given over the past 20 months I've been on this band wagon. I might not be the first to admit that my plate is full but I can certainly admit that when said plate is a bit crowded I can be ornery and neglectful. Your patience, kindness, and love truly are felt and heard. I thank you for all do to keep me going. I know many of you, bless your sweet hearts, have a hard time grasping my inclinations toward President – Elect Obama. I know many of you tried oh-so-diligently to ‘save’ me. Thank you for caring but now …

...Here was go TOGETHER! Upward and onward, onward and upward, EXITO!!

Pasture

Hi world.

I’m here … for a just a moment to break from the delightful madness that is this office, as to be expected, on this Monday prior to the Tuesday of Decision.

Yesterday, P and I sat outside laughing at what is or is not occurring in the world we find ourselves in. I found myself quite entertained and enlightened, how could I not with P? Towards the end of our time together P started dancing around the parking lot and exclaimed, “I want to run outside of the pasture but I still want that pasture back there Kas.” I laughed as he continued this gallivanting and then pulled out my notebook to log the exact wordage used, “This is blog worthy.”

Don’t we all want that? We want the ability to run around, call red blue, sleep during sunup hours, and live as that free spirit. But when our legs get weary, the red starts to look blue, a normal schedule sounds a bit like heaven, and being that free spirit is just too much … we want to turn around and see that safe pasture. I don’t need to go back in, I just need to know it is there, I need that option. Then I keep gallivanting in the freedom of the life I am living. The pasture is freedom as well as I can go in and out but to run outside of those perfectly painted white fences … that’s fantastic. Am I making sense?

No time to clarify.