Honor Thy Father and Mother

WHAT WERE YOUR MOM AND DAD LIKE WHEN YOU WERE GROWING UP?

When I saw these new StoryWorth questions, I have to admit, it was a tad daunting. How can I adequately describe the people who have made me who I am? I don't know...but I will try.

After my parents were divorced when I was younger, a lot younger, I gained an extra dad and mom. How lucky was I!!!??? Of course, back then I don't think I had this same mature attitude. In fact, I KNOW I didn't. But as I have grown up, I realize that I am really VERY lucky to have 4 very stalwart, brave, courageous, honest, good, loving parents who care about me and my welfare, my family, my testimony, and my life. Not sure if that is the norm....but suffice it to say that I feel grateful!!

Let me begin with my Mother!

"Are you my Mother? No, I am a cow.....an airplane...etc"
"Have I told you lately that I love you.....Have I told you there's no one else above you? You fill my heart with gladness, take away all my sadness, ease my troubles...that's what you do!"
"Mother, I love you! Mother, I do. Father in Heaven has sent me to you! When I am near you, I love to hear you, singing so softly that you love me to!"

These are just a few of the sayings I use when I call my mom. My mom is my rock! Rocks don't have to be perfect to perform their chosen task....and neither is my mom. But she is the best mom I could have ever asked for. When I was sad, she would make me laugh. When I had a game, she was there. When I messed up, she loved me more. When I think of being a mom, she is my measuring stick. Sometimes I fall far short, but I know I can keep trying.

One time, when I was a younger mother with YOUNG kiddos, I was feeling what I believe typical mothers feel like. I was exhausted, sleep deprived, and feeling like I was a horrible mother. In the mail came a short letter from my mother. She praised my motherhood and me as a person. I needed that letter just at that time. I tucked it away, and sort of forgot about it. As I would be cleaning up, I would randomly find it at the MOST opportune times. Since I've moved to Arkansas, I haven't seen it. I think I need to go through things, boxes, and find it again. I need it.

Letters and cards from my mom always made my day. I love her handwriting. It is so familiar and so neat. It never changes, always the same. Mine, on the other hand, is all over the place depending upon how busy I am. But, as funny as this seems, her handwriting is a constant in my life that grounds me, gives me hope and peace and comfort. Seems funny to say, but as I was writing this morning...it hit me! I loved watching her write the grocery list. I loved getting letters and cards from her while I was on my mission. One, in particular, I still remember to this day (ok, maybe more than one). She sent a card and all it said was "dropping you a line" and she drew a line to her signing the card "Mom." I laughed and laughed. Another I got in the mail was a pad of 1 inch sticky notes. She was at the grocery store watching Nicky and Gary give away cats, or something like that. So she wrote me on what she could find in her purse. I loved it. Bunches and bunches of little sticky notes with only a few words on each. She ALWAYS makes me laugh!!

Yesterday she made me laugh as we were talking about Jordan going into landscaping. She said maybe she would have lost more weight if she had gone into landscaping instead of chocolate! Oh...my mother! I love that she has taught me to laugh...and to laugh at myself!

As I sit here, I try to recall my earliest memory of my mother. Not sure what that is! I remember being at Honeyman Beach (at least I THINK that is what it is called). But I only remember that mom was there, not anything specific. I do remember when she came to my school when I lost my retainer at school. I must have put it in my lunch box and thrown it away. She came to the school and looked through the garbages with me. I think maybe an earlier memory was when she made me wear that awful strawberry shirt to school for pictures. I remember not wanting to walk with anyone. How could I be seen in THAT shirt. Yes, I was a bit of a tomboy!

My mom was frugal and organized. She was honest and obedient. If the prophet said to do something, or not do something, that's what she did (or didn't do)! As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.....THAT is her scripture. Well, at least the scripture that I would give her. When Pres Kimball said that we needed to keep a journal, she bought us all journals for Christmas! Just ONE of MANY experiences I could share. She was obedient.

As for organized, I suppose she had to be with 8 children. But I do remember having a certain day to do the dishes, take out the garbage, and do just about every chore. EVERY night we swept the kitchen floor. I remember her telling me she had specific days to clean the cupboards, the refrigerator, etc.

Mom was also fun and didn't sweat the small stuff! We laughed a lot, played a lot, and were allowed to have a LOT of fun after our chores. I remember once my mom was giving me a perm at night. From the back door (the typically used door at our house) came a knock. In stepped a police officer telling my mom that my brother had been caught. You see, the neighbor girl was having an all girl birthday party. All the boys got together and were hanging around....I have NO idea what they had planned. Well, the cops got wind of it and came. The boys scattered. Scott was the only one caught. My mom never stopped doing my hair....a perm is time sensitive, you know. When the officer was finished she asked him a question, "Have you ever done something like that?" He hemmed and hawed and she continued, "It was harmless and no one was hurt. They weren't planning on hurting anyone. Boys will be boys!" And he left. Well, at least that is my memory THIS many years later. I loved that my mom didn't jump all over my brother....it was harmless. She was good to know the difference. Oh, don't get me wrong...if we WERE in the wrong, we knew it!

I love my mom....more and more each year. When I got married I realized that at that same age my mom was divorced and remarried and caring for 6 children. Goodness, I couldn't handle just being married. And then when I had Jordan it all hit me in the face. At my age my mom was soooo much wiser and better at this than I was. My mom rocks! Plain and Simple! She is MY mom....every bit of her, even the part that made me clean my room (which I am grateful for now...even though I still am not perfect at it). And don't get me started about coming to ALL my ballgames. Really? HOW did she do it? Now that I am a mom and know how OFTEN I am watching games, I am amazed at her. She came to ALL of them, even with little kids. I remember once asking her HOW she did it. She said Gary and Nicky would bring coloring books and toys and sit under the bleachers and play. She was ALWAYS there....every game and for that I am grateful. Now I go to ALL my kids' games...even when it is hard.

Ok, my dad!

I remember one time my mom told me that one of the best things she did for me was marrying him. He was athletic....and GOOD! He would play catch with me, basketball with me, every sport with me. He worked out of state, but would try to make it to some of my games. When he WOULD come I would get sooo excited. It meant a lot to me. I remember one game he came. We played Provo High School, a HUGE rival. I was a bit sick....or at least had a dry cough. At half time he tossed me some throat lozenges.

A funny memory, but a memory that still is very poignant in my mind. One of my strongest memories is when he would take me to the Rec Center and shoot foul shots. We would shoot 100 of them....10 each and switch. He would start by rebounding the ball and letting me stay in my spot. The second set of 10 he would make me move at least ONE of my feet. The 3rd - he'd make me totally move. He'd start lining up on the lane with his hands up...then move up the lane closer to me, always yelling in my ear. On the LAST set of 10 he would stand directly in front of me, never blocking me or my vision of the basket, but yelling at me. He said I needed to be able to block EVERYTHING out and shoot the foul shot. Foul shots win ball games! And they do....and I did. I became a pretty good foul shooter.

After that game at Provo High School that he came to, he realized that my coach was using me as a small forward instead of just a guard. I had never really been taught to play down low. The girls were SOOOO much bigger and taller than me. So after foul shots he would make me shoot down low with him on me.

Probably my earliest basketball memory with my dad was in 7th grade. I played on a boys team and dad was there. We won! But I don't remember him being excited, though I'm sure he was. Instead, we stayed after to work on left handed layups. You see, I had a fast break on the left side. I made the layup but used my right hand on the left side, NOT my left hand. We spent the time after the game learning to shoot a left handed layup WITH my LEFT hand!

I am grateful that he helped me athletically! And he came to as many of my college softball games as he could. I LOVED having him at the games.

Probably the earliest memory I have of my dad was him helping me and Krista walk on pumpkins. He would hold our hands and we would try to roll them along the floor while standing on them. I don't remember WHERE we were, but I do remember this. I remember countless wrestling matches on the floor. But what I remember most from my YOUNG life (besides his sideburns) was how his toes grew money. When he would get home from work, he would have us take off his boots. EVERY time there would be change in the toes of his boots. We were CONVINCED his toes grew money. Now as I am older and know the truth, I marvel that he would stop each day before he got home to take his boots off, put money in them, and put them back on. When we would take them off he would make sounds of pure joy to get his work books off. What fun this was for us!

Another funny memory was when we went to Salt Lake during the holidays. We went Christmas shopping at the Mall downtown. Looking back now, I wonder WHY in the world would we ALL go Christmas shopping. hahaha  My dad saw a homeless person, grabbed my arm and we hung back. He reached into his wallet and pulled out some money for them, swearing me to secrecy. I'm sure my mom knew, that is just how he was. But it was fun to think we had a little secret. On that same shopping trip, my dad saw a Native American standing still as a statue. In fact, he thought he WAS a statue and therefore said, HOW as he raised his hand. The man looked at my dad, raised his hand and said, HI. My dad was soooo embarrassed!

I'm sure I could come up with more and more memories. But the last one I will share is how each time he would pick us up from the airport (Krista and I would fly to Idaho to see our father) he had junior mints and a newspaper folded under his arm. He wasn't a big hugger, but instead would put his arm around me and/or pinch my shoulder.

He was GREAT with directions...like to the tenth of a mile...when he would give me directions. And he always fell asleep watching golf. When we would change the channel he would get mad, saying he was watching that! Golf is STILL the most boring sport alive!!

I love my dad!

As I said before, I have four parents (2 moms and 2 dads). How lucky am I!!

My father!

The earliest memory I have of my dad is him giving me a blessing when I was very young. I had gone to visit him and when he was about to take me and Krista back home, my nose started to bleed. And this was not just a run of the mill bloody nose....it wouldn't stop. I must have been freaking out or something, because he laid me down and he and his roommate gave me a blessing. I have NO IDEA if the blood stopped, but it must have. I just remember that he gave me a priesthood blessing. From a young age I knew of priesthood power.

I also remember running through the sprinklers with him at his home.

When he married and moved to Idaho I loved the house they built. It had a lot of land and they had horses. He would let me drive the riding lawnmower and I absolutely LOVED that! He was a hard worker, always getting up and getting out to work in the garden BEFORE work. He would also work in the garden AFTER work as well. He always coached our baseball teams too. He thought the world of us!

He also had snowmobiles. I LOVED them and would always want to be out riding them. But I wasn't old enough to ride by myself. We could ride WITH dad and even sit in front of him holding onto the steering handle bars so we THOUGHT we were doing the steering of the fast machine. He would also pull us behind on a sled. Now THAT was fun! Then one year I was old enough. So Bruce and I sat on the machine, getting prepped by my dad. I knew how to make it go. I knew how to steer. My dad revved up the engine and as it was idling gave us all the last minute instructions. He let us go! I pushed lightly on the throttle, but nothing happened. I thought maybe I was just being chicken. So I pushed it harder.....and boy did we fly!!! LITERALLY!!! I had to fully open the throttle before it would go....dad had been working on it, but said it was all fixed. Guess not! The throttle stuck in the fully open position. It took about 1-2 seconds for Bruce to fly off. It took me just a tad longer since I was holding the handle bars not just another person. But soon I flew off too as the snowmobile kept on going...fast! It left the yard and jumped up onto the road, then across the road, down the ditch and flew up again....up the hill, until it finally flipped on its side, track still going full speed. All the while my dad was running after the machine. I'm sure it was semi dangerous and that my step-mom (we always just called her mom) was pretty unhappy about it. I don't remember getting a chance to drive again that year.

I also remember driving from the airport to their home. Dad would always ask if we knew the way, if I knew where we were and where we should turn next. Land marks to his house began to stand out. I still love parts of Idaho.

My mom (step mom).

Like I said before, we never called her by her first name, but called her mom. This may have been because we were so small at the time and just grew up like that.

She was a cleaner ... or at least made sure we had our chores and cleaned. She would always have us get our chores done early so we could go to town and have lunch with dad. I remember making sandwiches on the cutting board....lots and lots of sandwiches. She also loved music. All of her children played an instrument and sang. I loved going to the nursing home and singing with them. I also loved Christmases where we would deliver baked goods, singing all the way. On trips she would make up songs. And the hand dances that she did were always entertaining.

Because I didn't spend as much time with them in Idaho, I don't have as many memories of them. But I do count myself lucky NOW that I have 2 sets of good parents that love me, care about me, and I can call anytime!