I made blondies today.
Missing old friends and remembering the past.
I made blondies today.
Watching as I didn't believe the mixture would turn out.
I made blondies today.
Having faith that the ingredients would make a delicious blend.
I made blondies today.
Dancing around the kitchen with a wooden spoon.
I made blondies today.
Imaging all that the future holds for me and my life.
I made blondies today.
Finding peace in the familiar words and actions of me.
I made blondies today.
Wondering about love and about an unseen home.
I made blondies today.
Hoping for the best and crossing my fingers it would be better.
I made blondies today.
Clearifying butter and sifting flour to perfection.
I made blondies today.
Realizing that if nothing ever changed, no flower would ever bloom.
I made blondies today.
Accepting that sometimes the only way to really live is to get messy.
I made blondies today.
Just trying to get it right... whatever that means.
I made blondies today.
Loving the home and the life I have made here - 187 E 200 N.
12:12 Make a Wish.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
A Dreamer
She laughed. The sound was like music to my ears. It had been years since Dad died and yet Mom still found it hard to throw her head back and laugh the way she once had. She'd deny this fact in a heartbeat if she were asked but fact it was nonetheless. She was sad still.
Dad had been her best friend. They'd gotten divorced a good 5 or so years before he died but they still cared deeply for one another. Mom would never admit it, but
they could have stayed married. They would have. But by the time Dad had decieded to put any work into their marriage Mom was already packed up and gone.
Dad was a dreamer. He always had the most beautiful dreams about the future and about how life would be ... tomorrow. It was his dreams that had first attracked Mom to him. He wanted to try his hand in everything. Leave not a stone unturned. Mom loved listening to him tell her about all the wonderful things their future had in store. And Dad would tell for hours and hours on end and every dream ended with Mom and Dad in a dream home with a dream job and a dream life. Mom still claims that Dad died from a broken heart the day he realized his dreams wouldn't come true.
Mom had her own dreams of stability and security. They weren't her dreams to begin with and she didn't realize they would become hers when her wild heart joined with the dreamer's that warm summer night so many years ago. At the beginning she went along with everything Dad said, following where he led and standing firm by his side through the good times and the bad. She always thought that Dad's dreams would be enough to sustain the family and to carry her through. But they weren't. In the end she needed more. She needed a roof over her family and bread to eat. Not to mention new shoes for me and Sis to look our best on Sundays. Dad wanted to give her the world. He wanted us to have everything we wanted. And yet we didn't.
It hit Mom hard when Dad died. We weren't sure if it was an elaborate scheme set up by Dad to get us together again and pull a giant GOTCHA! It wasn't though. Dad didn't jump out of the closet laughing histerically and point to our faces. He lay quiet and still in the coffin Mom picked out - deep brown, sturdy oak, lighter in some areas, almost wispy looking... like a dream about to form. I still remember picking out the clothes he would wear and who would sing the song. We let Angeline talk about his life and his dreams. They were too close to Mom and too far from me.
The service was beautiful. It was filled with all the dreams Dad could have possibly thought up. The flowers offered hope against the dreary backdrop of sadness on everyone's faces. Mom cried harder and longer than I expected her to. She really loved that man.
I wasn't sure what Mom would be like without Dad. They'd always been a unit - even after the divorce. Part of me expected them to get back together but they never did. Whenever I mentioned it Mom always moved on with the conversation never letting herself dwell on the thought for very long. I knew she missed him. I knew she longed to crawl into his arms again and for him to whisper his dreams in her ears. But she couldn't anymore. She had to stand on her own two tangible feet. So I was surprised to see her at Dad's one morning about a month before the accident. She made it a point to never be with Dad alone so as to never go back on her decision. And yet there they were that morning. Making breakfast and laughing, and looking happier than they had in years. I rememeber wishing as I walked in that day that I could freeze that moment in time and save every ounce of happiness in a box so I could pull it out later and give it to Mom when things were back to the way they'd been for so long. I've long thought about that day and wondered if somehow they knew Dad's time was short and wanted to spend it together the two of them while they still could.
They always had a way of knowing when something difficult was coming in the other's life. They were always there when it happened, always the first to offer a hand to hold or a shoulder to cry on. I never was able to understand it. I didn't have to understand it. It was how they always were and how I hoped they always would be. So it was no surprise when I heard that Mom had been the only one there when it happened. A massive heart attack. Somehow she knew and she was there. I hope every night that in those last few moments they shared together they were able to forgive one another and remember the love and laughter that had once brought them together. I'll never be brave enough to ask Mom. I just hope and pray.
Hearing her laugh again brought back so many memories of family vacations and adventuring in the middle of no where. I've been grateful all my life that fate joined those two hearts so many years ago for whatever reason it did. I choose to believe that they brought more love and happiness to one another than anyone else could have ever done. May Dad rest in peace and may Mom keep all that love and joy in her heart til the day she too passes through the veil and maybe even a little further beyond til she can be with Dad yet again.
And the dreams.
She laughed. The sound was like music to my ears.
Dad had been her best friend. They'd gotten divorced a good 5 or so years before he died but they still cared deeply for one another. Mom would never admit it, but
they could have stayed married. They would have. But by the time Dad had decieded to put any work into their marriage Mom was already packed up and gone.
Dad was a dreamer. He always had the most beautiful dreams about the future and about how life would be ... tomorrow. It was his dreams that had first attracked Mom to him. He wanted to try his hand in everything. Leave not a stone unturned. Mom loved listening to him tell her about all the wonderful things their future had in store. And Dad would tell for hours and hours on end and every dream ended with Mom and Dad in a dream home with a dream job and a dream life. Mom still claims that Dad died from a broken heart the day he realized his dreams wouldn't come true.
Mom had her own dreams of stability and security. They weren't her dreams to begin with and she didn't realize they would become hers when her wild heart joined with the dreamer's that warm summer night so many years ago. At the beginning she went along with everything Dad said, following where he led and standing firm by his side through the good times and the bad. She always thought that Dad's dreams would be enough to sustain the family and to carry her through. But they weren't. In the end she needed more. She needed a roof over her family and bread to eat. Not to mention new shoes for me and Sis to look our best on Sundays. Dad wanted to give her the world. He wanted us to have everything we wanted. And yet we didn't.
It hit Mom hard when Dad died. We weren't sure if it was an elaborate scheme set up by Dad to get us together again and pull a giant GOTCHA! It wasn't though. Dad didn't jump out of the closet laughing histerically and point to our faces. He lay quiet and still in the coffin Mom picked out - deep brown, sturdy oak, lighter in some areas, almost wispy looking... like a dream about to form. I still remember picking out the clothes he would wear and who would sing the song. We let Angeline talk about his life and his dreams. They were too close to Mom and too far from me.
The service was beautiful. It was filled with all the dreams Dad could have possibly thought up. The flowers offered hope against the dreary backdrop of sadness on everyone's faces. Mom cried harder and longer than I expected her to. She really loved that man.
I wasn't sure what Mom would be like without Dad. They'd always been a unit - even after the divorce. Part of me expected them to get back together but they never did. Whenever I mentioned it Mom always moved on with the conversation never letting herself dwell on the thought for very long. I knew she missed him. I knew she longed to crawl into his arms again and for him to whisper his dreams in her ears. But she couldn't anymore. She had to stand on her own two tangible feet. So I was surprised to see her at Dad's one morning about a month before the accident. She made it a point to never be with Dad alone so as to never go back on her decision. And yet there they were that morning. Making breakfast and laughing, and looking happier than they had in years. I rememeber wishing as I walked in that day that I could freeze that moment in time and save every ounce of happiness in a box so I could pull it out later and give it to Mom when things were back to the way they'd been for so long. I've long thought about that day and wondered if somehow they knew Dad's time was short and wanted to spend it together the two of them while they still could.
They always had a way of knowing when something difficult was coming in the other's life. They were always there when it happened, always the first to offer a hand to hold or a shoulder to cry on. I never was able to understand it. I didn't have to understand it. It was how they always were and how I hoped they always would be. So it was no surprise when I heard that Mom had been the only one there when it happened. A massive heart attack. Somehow she knew and she was there. I hope every night that in those last few moments they shared together they were able to forgive one another and remember the love and laughter that had once brought them together. I'll never be brave enough to ask Mom. I just hope and pray.
Hearing her laugh again brought back so many memories of family vacations and adventuring in the middle of no where. I've been grateful all my life that fate joined those two hearts so many years ago for whatever reason it did. I choose to believe that they brought more love and happiness to one another than anyone else could have ever done. May Dad rest in peace and may Mom keep all that love and joy in her heart til the day she too passes through the veil and maybe even a little further beyond til she can be with Dad yet again.
And the dreams.
She laughed. The sound was like music to my ears.
From the Source to the Healer
He looked behind him and wondered if the past would ever let him go, or if he'd be haunted by his memories a lifetime over. He'd moved cities and towns trying to get away from the pain and the awful memory of what had happened there. And yet the pain, the agony - it was all still there. Ever present in the back of his mind. It didn't matter how happy he could become, it would still be there to ruin that happiness. If he succeed, the success would always be cheapened by the guilt. How could he ever look back and be at peace? Even if it hadn't been entirely his fault, what if it had been? Should something so terrible- so awful- ever be just one person's fault? Could it not be said that ultimately every problem, every story, every situation ultimately has two sides of the coin - of the blame - of the road? He had taken a road to lead him away from the pain, so he had thought. Yet, the pain seemed to be around every turn, every corner of this road - ahead, behind, to the right and the left. Maybe the pain was trying to tell him something, help him in some way. If he could not get past the idea that this was his fault he would never be able to see anything beyond that sorrow. Sorrow. His sorrow, for what had happened and for his place in the happened. If he had the chance to go back and change it, should he? Would he? He was finally looking back at the memories and seeing them in a different light - finally seeing beyond hurt and suffering to growth and light. Could light come out of such darkness? And yet, had it not? Was that not light at the top of this hill?
He looked back and in seeing his memories of the pain finally saw his true reflection in the looking glass...he was not longer at the source of the pain, but to the healer of it.
For him, it wasn't the road, but the Healer, that made all the difference.
He looked back and in seeing his memories of the pain finally saw his true reflection in the looking glass...he was not longer at the source of the pain, but to the healer of it.
For him, it wasn't the road, but the Healer, that made all the difference.
Sometimes
Sometimes I think of you.
Sometimes I think of you and cry.
I wonder where you were when I needed a shoulder.
Sometimes I think of you and laugh.
Remembering all the funny things you used to say.
Sometimes I think of you and sing.
Trying to find a way to make it back to you.
Sometimes I think of you and give up.
You've been gone so long how could it ever be better.
Sometimes I think of you.
Sometimes I think of you and cry.
I wonder where you were when I needed a shoulder.
Sometimes I think of you and laugh.
Remembering all the funny things you used to say.
Sometimes I think of you and sing.
Trying to find a way to make it back to you.
Sometimes I think of you and give up.
You've been gone so long how could it ever be better.
Sometimes I think of you.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
I don't know
When I was little, every year on my birthday I would wake up at the crack of dawn - around 4am -
and sneak out of the house and walk to my elementary school down the street. I would sit on the swings
and watch the sunrise. I would think about the year that had past and all the changes that had occurred.
Then as I sat and listened to the world waking up I would think about all the changes that would occur
in the coming year as I explored a new age and time of life. It was one of my favorite times with myself.
Sitting and listening while the world was still sleepy all around me. I also loved it because no one
knew about it. It was all my own. No one begged to come with me or was sad that I went alone. No one knew
if I went or stayed. As I grew older my trips to the swings grew more frequent as there was more to think
about and deal with than just growing older. I found myself reveling in the wee morning hours and living for
the time when I could be alone with the world again on my front steps. I lived in a small town so no cars
were driving down the road and no one ever entered my world as I sat and pondered. I loved it - just Abby and
the world. I could do anything and everything I wanted to. I was powerful and successful beyond belief.
I could conquer the world.
At some point I stopped believing that I could conquer the world. I stopped believing that I could do anything and
everything that I wanted to. Then I failed at the life I'd created because there was nothing to dream about and nothing to hold
myself in focus. I am currently waging war on the Abby of the present to force the Abby of the past through to the front lines
to defeat this world that is bringing her down. Rather maybe it in not a matter of battling the Abby's of different
times but uniting them in one purpose and one cause.
"Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men? It is the music of a people who will NOT be slaves again. When the beating of your heart echos the beating of the drums... there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes...."
Tomorrow has come.
Goodnight, dear void.
and sneak out of the house and walk to my elementary school down the street. I would sit on the swings
and watch the sunrise. I would think about the year that had past and all the changes that had occurred.
Then as I sat and listened to the world waking up I would think about all the changes that would occur
in the coming year as I explored a new age and time of life. It was one of my favorite times with myself.
Sitting and listening while the world was still sleepy all around me. I also loved it because no one
knew about it. It was all my own. No one begged to come with me or was sad that I went alone. No one knew
if I went or stayed. As I grew older my trips to the swings grew more frequent as there was more to think
about and deal with than just growing older. I found myself reveling in the wee morning hours and living for
the time when I could be alone with the world again on my front steps. I lived in a small town so no cars
were driving down the road and no one ever entered my world as I sat and pondered. I loved it - just Abby and
the world. I could do anything and everything I wanted to. I was powerful and successful beyond belief.
I could conquer the world.
At some point I stopped believing that I could conquer the world. I stopped believing that I could do anything and
everything that I wanted to. Then I failed at the life I'd created because there was nothing to dream about and nothing to hold
myself in focus. I am currently waging war on the Abby of the present to force the Abby of the past through to the front lines
to defeat this world that is bringing her down. Rather maybe it in not a matter of battling the Abby's of different
times but uniting them in one purpose and one cause.
"Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men? It is the music of a people who will NOT be slaves again. When the beating of your heart echos the beating of the drums... there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes...."
Tomorrow has come.
Goodnight, dear void.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
My Dreams
I had a dream last night.
You were there and so were they.
You told me I was a liar.
You called me names.
You said I would never become all that I dreamed of being.
You took my hopes and dashed them.
I had a dream last week.
They were there and so were you.
They told me I had to save them.
They said they would die if I did not render them aid.
They said all their hopes rested on my shoulders.
I had a dream last year.
No one was there.
I walked alone through the streets wondering.
I looked up and down every aly.
I searched through every nook.
I have a dream today.
We are all here.
We see each other beyond what we've seen before.
We look through one another to what is beneath.
We see the dreams of our hearts.
We make each other whole.
You were there and so were they.
You told me I was a liar.
You called me names.
You said I would never become all that I dreamed of being.
You took my hopes and dashed them.
I had a dream last week.
They were there and so were you.
They told me I had to save them.
They said they would die if I did not render them aid.
They said all their hopes rested on my shoulders.
I had a dream last year.
No one was there.
I walked alone through the streets wondering.
I looked up and down every aly.
I searched through every nook.
I have a dream today.
We are all here.
We see each other beyond what we've seen before.
We look through one another to what is beneath.
We see the dreams of our hearts.
We make each other whole.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Freedom
I was asked to teach the lesson in Relief Society today on freedom. While I didn't connect the topic to the 4th of July until after 6 hours of deliberation and study, I did come upon it eventually. Ha. As I was studying and researching the topic and the concept of freedom I discovered that freedom is one of the governing principles of this world. We are free to choose what we may. No one can force me to do anything I do not want to do. What a blessing. I can choose for myself to be a good person, to have morals, and to follow Jesus Christ. No one is there shoving me into it. Especially now that I've grown up (not completely but a little bit...) and moved away from home I choose now more than ever what is in my life and what is not.
And yet, with that choice comes a consequence. So many choices in this world appear to come without consequence. Getting a credit card allows you to spend money you do not have and conceptually seems like you get to buy things without having to work for them and without immediate consequences for spending beyond your means. It would appear that with the social freedom to sleep with anyone you want Chasity is old fashioned and out dated. And yet both of these choices can lead to quite serious consequences. Yet the world is still advertising freedom without consequence, or freedom without responsibility. Which is so interesting to me because without consequence what is there to base your choices on? If it does not matter what you choose, is there really a choice?
The freedom the world offers is cheap and it falls short. In today's society you have the social freedom to have sex, to do drugs, to drink until you are unable to walk in a straight line. And the world says that all of these things are so fun and can make you so happy. And yet, I do not buy it. Because I know at least one person who does each of these activities on a regular basis. They feel free for a time. Which is all the world is selling - free for a time. I wonder if that is what they thought they were signing up for before they began - for a time. What a false freedom. They are free until their freedom turns to bitter addiction or painful regret. Without self discipline we are but empty vessels of self gratification. The world turns a cold place filled with only ourselves and our own emotions. A world with but me in it is a sad place to be sure. While I can make myself laugh sometimes and smile at my own cleverness other times, without the laughter of others and love towards them, my life would be more empty than I could even imagine it to be. What a sad world to live in. I see no freedom there.
It is only through self restraint and self mastery that we become free.
To put it a different way...
I believe in God.
I believe in a God who loves me enough to guide me to freedom. I believe in a God who gives commandments and doctrine that enable me to be more free than I could ever be without them. I believe in a God who directed the Founding Fathers and who brought about this land of freedom. I believe in a God who knows me by name and who is ever loving and ever watchful. I believe in a God who is involved in my life, happiness, and well-being.
I believe in a God who believes in true and lasting freedom.
Goodnight, dear void.
And yet, with that choice comes a consequence. So many choices in this world appear to come without consequence. Getting a credit card allows you to spend money you do not have and conceptually seems like you get to buy things without having to work for them and without immediate consequences for spending beyond your means. It would appear that with the social freedom to sleep with anyone you want Chasity is old fashioned and out dated. And yet both of these choices can lead to quite serious consequences. Yet the world is still advertising freedom without consequence, or freedom without responsibility. Which is so interesting to me because without consequence what is there to base your choices on? If it does not matter what you choose, is there really a choice?
The freedom the world offers is cheap and it falls short. In today's society you have the social freedom to have sex, to do drugs, to drink until you are unable to walk in a straight line. And the world says that all of these things are so fun and can make you so happy. And yet, I do not buy it. Because I know at least one person who does each of these activities on a regular basis. They feel free for a time. Which is all the world is selling - free for a time. I wonder if that is what they thought they were signing up for before they began - for a time. What a false freedom. They are free until their freedom turns to bitter addiction or painful regret. Without self discipline we are but empty vessels of self gratification. The world turns a cold place filled with only ourselves and our own emotions. A world with but me in it is a sad place to be sure. While I can make myself laugh sometimes and smile at my own cleverness other times, without the laughter of others and love towards them, my life would be more empty than I could even imagine it to be. What a sad world to live in. I see no freedom there.
It is only through self restraint and self mastery that we become free.
To put it a different way...
I believe in God.
I believe in a God who loves me enough to guide me to freedom. I believe in a God who gives commandments and doctrine that enable me to be more free than I could ever be without them. I believe in a God who directed the Founding Fathers and who brought about this land of freedom. I believe in a God who knows me by name and who is ever loving and ever watchful. I believe in a God who is involved in my life, happiness, and well-being.
I believe in a God who believes in true and lasting freedom.
Goodnight, dear void.
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