Afternoon on the River

Seth agreed to take some friends rafting on the Snake River last Friday. He suggested I come along this trip and leave Mariah in charge of the motel (a kind of trial run for this week while I'm in Tennessee). We pumped up the rafts and gathered up all the other essentials, like life jackets and oars and buckets and sun screen and food and water. He gassed up the truck and replaced a flat tire. I made breakfast and helped clean motel rooms. Together all those coming along (the two of us, Tom Nielson and his family, Jordan and Andrew) loaded the rafts onto the trailer and piled in the rest, strapping it all down for the trip.

We headed north for nearly two hours and up the hill to the best spot to launch, leaving Tom's van at the bottom and piling everyone in the truck for the last eight miles or so. We unloaded everything by the river and parked the truck and trailer nearby to be retrieved later. Most of those with us were new to river rafting. There was some hesitancy, even fear, in their eyes.

Tom, Carolyn, their three kids and Seth and I climbed into a big silver raft we've owned for years (we purchased two of them already well-used from some Grand Canyon river guides). Seth manned the oars. Jordan and Andrew, young and adventurous, opted for the smaller green raft and took up the two paddles, quickly learning how to make their way out into the current. We pushed off and were on our way.

You couldn't have picked a more beautiful day. It was warm and sunny with a nice breeze as we floated along. A cloud would hide the sun occasionally, giving us some relief from the direct sunlight. The water was COLD, but the heat from the sun evaporated it quickly away from the skin after the inevitable showers in the white water.

There were many others on the river in a variety of rafts, boats and kayaks, too. Some were with guides who run the river several times a week. Others were in smaller groups or families. There was a camaraderie among us all. We had common purposes and motives, common hopes and fears, common enjoyment and relaxation.

At one point we stopped for a picnic on the shoreline. The kids jumped in, enjoying the cold water and then the hot rocks. We headed out again rolling with the current and feeling a "rush" at the rapids.

There was a place with a cliff above a very deep spot in the river that was unofficially designated for jumping in. Several boats stopped and a variety of people climbed up and jumped the 15-30 feet (depending on how high you climbed) into the cold water and swimming to shore. Jordan, Andrew, Jessica and Riley all jumped--twice!

The afternoon passed quickly and even Carolyn left her fears behind and enjoyed the time. The take out spot was too soon in sight. We pulled the boats out and waited for Seth and Tom to drive up and get the truck and trailer. The clouds began to roll in. Just as we finished loading up the now deflated boats and other equipment, it began to rain. We piled into the vehicles and headed for home.

The adventure was over. But the memories will forever be with us of a perfect afternoon on the river.

My Garden

I'm starting to really enjoy the fruits of my labor in my little garden. I am harvesting spinach, peas, radishes and zucchini. There are blossoms and small green fruits on the tomato and squash plants. The carrots and beets show promise of a fall harvest. The sunflowers are reaching upward along the wall. The flowers have spread out to fill in the empty spaces and are blossoming in a great variety of colors and shapes. My trees (at least the ones in the garden) are growing into REAL trees instead of twigs. There are less weeds and rocks surfacing. I am basking in the beauty of it all.



Isn't it amazing the joy and satisfaction that can come from a little bit of work, a few seeds, some sun and rain, and the good brown soil. I find myself regularly looking out over the garden from the great room just to smile and nod in pleasure. And yet I am still surprised every time I walk into the back yard and find this small magic place that I have created. And magic it is, considering the way I have killed every plant I've ever tried to grow inside!

And so I am including a few photos so you can enjoy it too!

Loss and Grief

I just finished reading "Out of the Canyon" by Art and Allison Daily. It tells a remarkable story of loss and grief, hope and love. Briefly: Art loses his wife and sons in a freak accident and Allison loses her brother to suicide and her husband to divorce. They assist each other through the grieving process, cultivate a loving relationship, marry and have two sons. All of this is helped along by spiritual experiences involving Art's dead family. Though their experience is unique unto them, their thoughts and feelings, expressed so freely in this book, can be enlightening and inspiring for others as all of us face tragedy and death and loss.

Some thoughts I was drawn to from their book:

"...if an empty space of this dimension suddenly appeared in a forest, I know that nature would fill it with as much lushness and beauty as it could. It's the immutable way of our universe when vacuums occur. The human heart seems a lot like that forest. Shatterings are meant to be mended, holes to be refilled. And I believe that God, who created the extraordinary hearts of all beings, intended that they always be full, and that when they are filled with sorrow, an equal measure of joy must be brought forth in order to restore the essential balance of things. This is the magic of hope, the searing heat and glow of our eternal spirit."

"We must put our love into action, for in loving others, we are loving God himself." (Mother Teresa)

"Grief has no rules."

On Angels
(by Czeslaw Milosz)

day draws near
another one
do what you can

They also suggested two books that "are a must have" for those experiencing great loss. "A Grief Observed" by C.S.Lewis and "Only Spring: On Mourning the Death of My Son" by Gordon Livingston. I haven't had a chance to find them yet, but look forward to seeing what they have to offer.

I'm not, of course, going through any particular grief at this point in my life. I do think, however, that we should be armed with what ever tools we can gather to prepare ourselves for that eventuality. For everyone faces loss, and grief is a universal human experience. When that day comes, may we all find our way "Out of the Canyon" and back into the light of love and joy.

Thinking

I like to think.

I like to sit somewhere quiet and let my mind wander, settle on something and ponder. I like to imagine that I'm the first person to think those thoughts, though I know I'm not that original. I like to think about my family, my habits, my work, my world. I like to think about possibilities and probabilities. I like to think about other people, other nations, other places, other lifestyles. I like to think about spiritual things, personal and sacred ideas that motivate me and inspire me. I like to create things in my mind--food, crafts, gardens, quilts, photographs, gadgets, stories, businesses, vacations. I like to plan for weekly jobs to be done, trips to be taken, lessons and assignments to be completed. I like to review the past and take from it lessons to help my today and tomorrow. I like to visualize the future--my trees grown, the house/motel completely finished and business booming, children all settled and grandkids growing, Seth and I in some foreign land teaching the gospel together.

Boyd K Packer once said, "Thoughts are talks we hold within ourselves." It is common knowledge that I like to talk. So I suppose it is natural that I would like to think, have talks with myself.

I believe that if we can't think it, we can't do it. If we can't think it, we can't believe it. If we can't think it, we can't become it. So, I think....and I like to think.

Admiration

Cokeville had a real small town celebration yesterday for Independence Day. It included a breakfast, a patriotic program, an arts and crafts fair, games for the kids, barbecue and fireworks. It was a real fun day (and a lot of work for the organizing committee, I'm sure).

Sandwiched in between all the other activities was the "Little Miss Cokeville" pageant. This involved 15 participants (girls, ages 6-11) who courageously put themselves out there before a fairly large crowd, dressed in their finest and performing their carefully prepared talents. As you can imagine, there were a lot of jitters--emotions do tend to run high in these situations (especially in little girls and some of their mothers). But there, in charge and cheerfully holding things together, was my daughter Sarah. In spite of the inevitable technical difficulties, the pageant came off without a hitch. The hugs the girls gave each other (and Sarah) at the end showed genuine affection and happy satisfaction and little, if any, jealousy or resentment for the winners. Overall, it was a great success.

Yesterday, I saw in Sarah enthusiasm, willing service, organizational skills, real love and concern for each of those little girls, and more patience than Job. She did a terrific job in an assignment that most of us would decline! And she's MY little girl.

It is quite overwhelming to see my children as adults, capably handling their assignments (and lives) with maturity and empathy and wisdom. After helping them through infant and toddler years, elementary school and volatile teenage crises, it is gratifying to recognize that they have become some of my best teachers, good examples and closest friends. Over the years I have often wondered what I did to deserve such great kids. I love and admire them with all my heart....each one.

"To love is to admire with the heart; to admire is to love with the mind." (Theophile Gautier)

Here's to a Happy Marriage!

Last Tuesday Seth and I marked 32 years of marriage. It wasn't until we were both up, dressed, fed, and heading out the door that we realized it was our wedding anniversary. A quick hug and kiss and we were off in separate directions to accomplish the work of the day.

Later, Seth came home early and suggested that I accompany him on a drive up the canyon "for our anniversary". He arranged for Jason and Sarah to cover the motel and we took off in his big truck (as opposed to my little truck). He suggested that while we were up there "we might as well look for my lost back pack." (Look at the post of May 24, "Seth's Spring Adventure" for details on how it was lost.) So we both put on hiking shoes, threw in the chains so we could drive across the still swollen river, sprayed on the bug spray and headed out.

The hour's drive up the Smith's Fork road was beautiful. The recent rains made the area green and the rivers full. It was a delightful trip. We chained up, put the truck in 4-wheel drive and crossed the river, traversed a pretty muddy road, parked the truck and went for a "little walk" along the river. The water was still very muddy and high and rushing fast. We followed a trail to where Seth took his dive and lost the kayak. He showed me where he finally got out of the water and where the boat came to rest down stream in a natural dam of debris. We saw a rope still hanging from a branch where he and Jason had left it when they recovered the boat.

I went up high, looking down on the river for color in the water (the pack had been wrapped in a bright yellow tarp before it was strapped to the kayak). Seth walked along the river searching for any sign. After a bit, Seth saw what appeared to be a strap and managed to carefully maneuver himself closer to take a look. There, well below the surface, not far from where the kayak had lodged, was his pack. HE FOUND IT!! Of course, it had been in the river for a whole month and was filled with muddy water. But, otherwise, it was completely intact with his boots and fishing pole (well, part of the fishing pole) still attached to the outside. The yellow tarp and rope were long gone.

It took every possible effort to pull the pack to the surface of the water and roll it over the branches to the bank. Seth unstrapped the pole and boots, rinsed out the boots and emptied them of all the water and most of the mud. I carried them up the hill to the trail. Everything inside had to be wrung out before the pack could be lifted to his back. We hiked back to the truck, still marveling at our little miracle. We found it! The drive back home was jubilant after such a remarkable conclusion to our search.

(Just a note in case you're curious. Much of the content of the pack is still usable. The stove, knives, clothes and pack itself are good as new now that they are clean. We even have hope for the binoculars and video camera. The camera and cell phone are total losses. But Seth came home alive and what was lost is found.)

Two years ago Seth and I went to Hawaii to celebrate our anniversary--the trip of a lifetime. Last year we had dinner at the Flying J down the street. This year we "went for a drive" and ate cold cereal when we got home. It may sound to some people like things are headed down hill in the romance department. In actuality, it's quite the opposite. We honeymooned in the mountains and have happily celebrated several anniversaries backpacking in the same high Wind Rivers, enjoying the beautiful quiet and solitude. The giddy high that we enjoyed together this year, upon unexpectedly finding what was lost, was remarkably similar to those early days of our marriage. This anniversary will still be remembered and discussed thirty years from now when we celebrate 62 years!

So here's to happy marriage. We are so blessed to have each other.

Today is Father's Day.

Traditionally on Father's Day we tend to think of our own fathers and, of course, I do with fond appreciation. But this Father's Day I wanted to comment on the fathers that are also my sons.

My oldest son, Ben, has four children (3 daughters and one son). Recently I spent a few minutes with his family as they dropped him at Grandma Sally's before the rest of them headed to Nana's for the night. It was brief, only a few minutes really, but in those few minutes I saw the father he has become. He cheerfully greeted Mom and I, shuttled the girls to the bathroom, calmed the baby with a binky, settled on the schedule for the next day with Heidi, redirected two year old Creed from something off limits, reloaded everyone into the car and waved them off, still smiling when he came back inside. Not more than five minutes later, their van pulled back up to the house because someone did not get a chance to say goodbye. He lovingly complied with hugs and kisses all around. While we headed off to bed (and in spite of the fact that he had few hours ahead for sleep), he waited patiently for them to call and report their safe arrival before he slept.

"A good father is a little bit of a mother." (Lee Salk)

Jason has a daughter just turned one year old. Both he and Aubrey dote on Mikayla shamelessly. Like Ben, Jason takes his turn at diaper duty, feeding, clothing, etc. and he enjoys "daddy duty". Through it all, though, it is his obvious affection for his wife that stands out. Together they will live and love and parent their children.

"The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother." (Theodore Hesburgh)

Jon and Brock, our sons-in-law, have their own styles of fathering. Jon spends lots of time with his boys, playing and working and riding bikes and going places. Brock wrestles and boxes with his boys, listens well to his teenage daughter, and welcomes a new foster daughter with open arms (even though he said he was "done with babies").
They've both taken fatherhood in stride and are helping their children learn life's lessons.

"One father is more than a hundred schoolmasters." (George Herbert)

I am thankful today for all the fathers in my life, for my father and my father in law, for Seth--the father of my children, and for these wonderful fathers who are also my sons. I am especially grateful for a loving Father in Heaven who gave us families and opportunity to learn together to be more like him.

One last thought:

"What a father says to his children is not heard by the world; but it will be heard by posterity." (Jean Paul Richter)