Growing Up

"I could really use a manual for adulthood right about now!" I thought exasperatedly, unsure of what I "should" be doing. What do you do when the call to say final goodbyes to Grandma comes while you're en route to a dress rehearsal for tomorrow's big Christmas concert?

Well, if you're me, you go to rehearsal and then pull the all-night bedside vigil. So here I sit, kids, listening to cheesy Christmas music while Grandma sleeps, unaware I'm in the room. My fingers are always so cold in the winter, I don't dare even touch her, lest she wake.

But I sit. I wait. I think and wonder what lies ahead. How exactly are you supposed to handle losing the person you love most in the whole wide world? The one constant in your 30 years, the one sure source of unconditional love (tough and no-nonsense as she is)? My grandmother has become one of my best friends, and the reality that she won't be here much longer is something my mind and heart can't quite grasp.

She'll never get to hear how Thursday's date goes. I'll never play Scrabble or Yahtzee with her again, or eat waffles slathered in peanut butter and syrup with her while sitting at the cabin's dining room table, watching the early morning fishermen on Henry's Lake. We'll never attend a temple session together again, each nudging the other awake. But the never-evers are almost worse to consider. She'll miss my wedding. My children will never get to meet her, nor will my future husband. Would she think he's good enough for me? I'll never get to ask. What on earth will I do without her as an oracle of sage wisdom and advice on everything from family to career to dating to cooking to health? We have such different personalities, and yet, I am my grandmother's granddaughter.

She moves her head. I perk up, hoping she might wake so I can say hi, but she keeps snoring, and I keep waiting. And wondering. It's a helpless feeling, having absolutely no clue what to do but to sit. But sometimes, just sitting and being still are all you can do.

The Power of One

The San Clemente Stake lost a true giant a couple of weeks ago in the passing of Kevin Hegewald. I didn't know Bro. Hegewald personally, although I always loved when he spoke on High Council Sundays in our ward. Some of my close friends knew him well, however, and I've been so touched to see the comments people have made about the impact he had in their lives, including in this video featuring the stake's youth. Between that and reading the blog his family kept, chronicling his battle against cancer, I am just blown away by the powerful impact one person can have on the lives of so, so many people by living a good life and serving as a truly Christ-like example. If you read nothing else, PLEASE scroll down on the blog to his entry about adversity. It's amazing how even after his passing, Bro. Hegewald is teaching us how to survive and thrive through challenges.

I hope that you, too, can be touched by this example and this reminder of how much we affect others merely by living our lives. It's phenomenal the potential we have to make a difference if we're willing to rise up to the opportunity.

9/11: Seven Years Later

Wow, I can't believe seven years have passed since the infamous attack on America.

I hesitate to post anything about Sept. 11 because I don't want to be trite or to make light of the horrors of that day, but I also will never be able to look at this day on a calendar and not think about what happened. Even now, watching the footage, I can't believe such horrors actually happened.

I truly think that's a defining moment for my generation, not unlike Pearl Harbor or Kennedy's assassination. I'm sure everyone remembers exactly where they were when they heard of the attacks - I was living in King Henry with Kristen and Megs, getting ready for my first office hour as an American Heritage TA, when one of my roommates turned on the TV with the news. The rest of that morning was spent glued to the TV with the throngs at the BYU Bookstore, and later, in lieu of Pres. Samuelson's first devotional of the year, we gathered in the Marriott Center to receive counsel from our leaders (for some reason, I want to say there was a broadcast from Pres. Hinckley, but I don't remember).

And, in an instant, the world changed as we knew it. Hyperbolic as that sounds, I think it's still so true; that event has overshadowed American life ever since.

I know it might err on the side of being cheesy, but I wanted to share this video tribute from YouTube. We're in such a divided political field right now, in a country sick of war, facing uncertain economic times. I think sometimes we lose sight of what really matters: life, and how tenuous it can be. I'm sure all the politicians will play up today to up their own patriotic image.

But, I don't know - seeing the images of what really happened brings back the emotions from seven years ago - shock, disbelief, grief, horror, and the importance of standing together as Americans. Indeed, we will never forget.

Sad News

Hi, all!

I'm back from Arizona, having had a delightful trip (about which I'll busily blog in coming days).

But first - I just got the call this morning that my great-grandmother, Ruby Faye Fowler Woodall, passed away around 2 a.m. today. Grandma Ruby was such an AMAZING woman!!! We were really close when I was a little, little girl. She moved into the apartment complex where we lived (which my grandparents owned) when I was 4 or 5 - I can still remember watching from my bedroom window! - and I spent a ton of time with her until we moved from there when I was 6. She eventually moved back to her home state of Arkansas, flying out for Christmas every few years.

It's been about six or seven years now since I saw her, but thank goodness for phones! I took to calling her every few weeks during college, and we developed a tight bond. It's been harder the last few years as her hearing's gotten worse, and especially since a stroke more or less took her ability to speak last year.

Thankfully I got in one last conversation with her on Sunday - best excuse for ditching Sunday School ever! I'd been with friends my entire Arizona trip, so I slipped out, found a quiet spot and called. She can't speak too well, so it was mostly me filling her in on what's happening in my world. However, she did manage to grunt out something I understood as "birthday." That's right - she's 100 years old, on her deathbed, and still remembered my birthday! I felt so humbled. Grandma Ruby's body may have deteriorated over the years, but her mind was 100 percent sharp. It blows me away!

So, that's my latest update. I'll have to do more of a bio on her when I get home - what a neat lady with an extraordinary life! She was among those who trekked out West during the Great Depression, and she and my great-grandfather set up a successful camera business. I'll remember her most, though, for a heart full of Christian love and kindness.

And I will miss her dearly. When someone's 100, you figure death has to happen sooner or later, but that doesn't make it easy or fun. Grandma Ruby sent me the music to sing at her funeral several years ago - the thought of finally having to make use of it makes me want to cry!

P.S.: I don't want to sound too trivial, but - further evidence that my life is a sitcom: the memorial service is planned at the exact same time as my roommate's wedding (for which I'm a bridesmaid)! What are the chances!