Atmospheric Post

Some days I stop in wonder as enormous clouds dominate the sky over our Wasatch Mountains.  Storm clouds are most welcome in the current drought.  Some other days the wildfire haze is so bad the mountains disappear, and we are advised to stay indoors if we can’t stay healthy when breathing toxic air.  I have marveled as the sun turns bright orange in mid-day.

Last Monday, Classical 89 (BYU) radio described “an atmospheric piece” to be played.  I forget the title, but remember it created a mood that was nostalgic and romantic, matching the second definition of the word.  (Language of love hits home with Kay & me.)

What’s in your Cloud?

Rich writing re. Pioneer Trek

My 2nd-great-grandmother, Mary Ann Phelps Rich, recalled “the western trek”:

My husband [Charles C. Rich] fitted up his wagons and teams and we left Winter Quarters in June, 1847; he having been placed in charge of a company of one hundred wagons. We traveled to the Elkhorn River, here we had to wait until all had crossed the river, as we crossed on rafts, and Mr. Rich had to wait until they all got over so he could tie the raft and bring the rope with him. There was one young man by the name of Weatherby, who was killed by the Indians while we were here, he died in our tent.

We traveled two abreast the whole distance of the Platt[e] River, for greater safety. There were thousands of buffalo on every side, which the men would kill, so we had plenty of meat. There were also hundreds of Indians to be seen at frequent intervals all the time we were traveling up the Platt[e] River.

— Autobiography of Mary Ann Phelps Rich

found on history.churchofjesuschrist.org

Great-grandfather George Q. Cannon and siblings were also in that 2nd company led by Charles C. Rich.  My family and I are grateful for our pioneer heritage.  We honor the women, men, and children who endured the trek west “with faith in every footstep”.

Profound Effect of Time

Having finished scanning (digitizing) my sweetheart Kay’s Treasures of Truth (both heavy albums thru summer of 1970), I pause to ponder ... what it all means to our five children and me.

In her book Writing Your Life, Lou Stanek teaches, “Time has a profound effect on our emotions, understanding, and writing style.”  For example, she suggests a look back after seven years allows greater perspective than writing your feelings immediately after a car accident or family death.  (Nevertheless, my journal writing around the time of Kay’s passing is a precious link to remind me of God’s mercy and miracles since then.)

Encouraging the reader to find ideas for creating a memoir or novel, Stanek hits home with, “If you haven’t noticed the stories lurking in the family photograph album, you haven’t been paying attention.”  In my race to scan pictures, programs, and letters, I take short breaks to read and share, but fail to notice many lurking stories.  However, it is fun to see photos and names of Kay’s many boyfriends (and girlfriends, of course).  Oh, how love and time affect us both.  I could write a book!

Time of Our Life

Yesterday a sweet, older neighbor couple asked me why family came here on Friday, and why I celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary, since my wife Kay (in their view) is not with me.  So, I explained why she celebrates on the other side, being close by, patient with me, and happy with our marriage thus far.  How can I not rejoice along with her?  As we know, true love is eternal.

(In summary, for the record:)

To provide heavenly entertainment, a Bountiful friend brought one of her talented daughters and the family’s vintage harp to our social room.  Neighbors were also invited.  Everyone loved the classical and sacred music, which included one of the teenager’s own compositions.  Our gifted daughter-in-law played Primary songs on the baby grand during a break, especially for Kay.  Our son surprised us with gorgeous yellow roses and an assortment of “Mom’s favorite snacks” for me to enjoy, knowing I don’t cook.  Ice cream sandwiches were my surprisingly creative contribution.  The restaurant dinner that followed was casual with no hurry or cleanup to burden us.

Last night, Kay’s siblings and their spouses celebrated our 50th in Holladay, Utah.  (Gratefully, I always feel like a member of her loving family.)  The dinner was superb, and their tributes warmed our heart.  In my assigned, five-minute talk with a focus on music, I described our 51 years of dating and marriage.  It was a trip with precious memories, and we knew it was Kay who made us all smile.  Homemade lemon ice cream, their family tradition, was icing on the cake.  How sweet it is — the time of our life!