I don't know the particulars of how it works when you "invent" something. Do you get to keep collecting money every time that item is sold or improved on? Is it like Hugh Grant in About a Boy, where the next generation doesn't have to work because they can sit back and collect the royalties?
I hope so. Especially for those who invented things like dishwashers and indoor plumbing. As a widow, with very little 'extra' time for leisure type activities, one of my favorite inventions has been 'books on tape (CD)'. That is fabulous. I would not have 'read' one book in the past five years if it wasn't for that invention. But, instead I have 'read' several children's mystery/action books, some inspirational ones for me, and even Twilight!
I was driving in the car last week and started to click through the CD's in my player to see what was there for me to listen to. I stopped at The Book of Mormon and decided some on-the-go scripture study may be just what my soul was needing. I was in 2 Nephi. Lehi is getting ready to die. He is talking to each of his children to counsel them and bear his testimony to them(reminded me of the day Chris passed when he had an opportunity to do that for his children). I got to Chapter 2 and it began... "And now, Jacob, I speak unto you: Thou art my first-born in the days of my tribulation in the wilderness. And behold, in thy childhood thou hast suffered afflictions and much sorrow, because of the rudeness of thy brethren. Nevertheless, Jacob, my first-born in the wilderness, thou knowest the greatness of God; and he shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain. "
I stopped, went back and listened to it again and again. Then I did as Nephi did, when studying Isaiah, as recorded in 1 Nephi 19:23, "I did liken all scriptures unto us, that it might be for our profit and learning."
Then as I listed to the scripture again I heard "And now, my children (specifically my three), I speak unto you. And behold, in thy childhood thou hast suffered afflictions and much sorrow, because of the passing of your father. Nevertheless, my children, thou knowest the greatness of God; and he shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain. "
I knew in that moment very clearly and strongly, and I will testify to each of your now. That is true. I believe that when we are subjected to afflictions and much sorrow because of others or because of things that have happened to us in our lives, that God will consecrate those afflictions for our gain. I know that I need not worry about that pain and suffering my kids have endured, because every tear of suffering and sorrow will be returned a hundred times in the form of a blessing to them. The Lord knows, cares, and loves us. He will make right any affliction that is placed upon us.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
ALL WIDOWS SHOULD BE UNEMPLOYED
All widows should be unemployed... OK, not really. Especially if you are a widow like me that wasn't wise enough to end up a widow with a large life insurance policy. And especially if you are a young widow with children to support.
I have enjoyed my past few weeks of unemployment. I have had sick kids, snow days and regularly scheduled days off from school that have given me a household full (vs. the moments of quiet I had dreamed of). On the days that I have actually had to myself I have been brushing up on my ability to "sell myself". The joys of looking for a new job.
What I am discovering, is that in order to "sell oneself" you must KNOW oneself. I got started on that process this last year as I have written for my blog... but now it is getting down deep. Not just seeing my weaknesses, but now I have to see what is good in me. Why someone would pay me, hopefully a lot of money, for me to work for them.
This is hard. But since I am not the same person I was six years ago. Since I have new strengths that have come as a result of the path I have trod... the experience of getting to know that person... is good. Very good. All widows should do it. It is good to look back and discover you have become someone you would have have otherwise. And while we KNOW that... it is good to discover and admit the POSITIVE aspects of that!
I have enjoyed my past few weeks of unemployment. I have had sick kids, snow days and regularly scheduled days off from school that have given me a household full (vs. the moments of quiet I had dreamed of). On the days that I have actually had to myself I have been brushing up on my ability to "sell myself". The joys of looking for a new job.
What I am discovering, is that in order to "sell oneself" you must KNOW oneself. I got started on that process this last year as I have written for my blog... but now it is getting down deep. Not just seeing my weaknesses, but now I have to see what is good in me. Why someone would pay me, hopefully a lot of money, for me to work for them.
This is hard. But since I am not the same person I was six years ago. Since I have new strengths that have come as a result of the path I have trod... the experience of getting to know that person... is good. Very good. All widows should do it. It is good to look back and discover you have become someone you would have have otherwise. And while we KNOW that... it is good to discover and admit the POSITIVE aspects of that!
Thursday, January 27, 2011
BABY, IT'S COLD OUTSIDE
School was cancelled on Monday as the morning temperature read a balmy -16 degrees. It is fitting.
January is always cold... well, because it is January. The week after Chris passed I remember frigid temperatures. There was no deisre to hang around at the cemetary... it was too cold to be outside for too long.
I don't remember January being so bitterly cold in years before Chris' passing.
But since his passing, I remember that week in January following his death. I remember how cold it was. That was the week our back patio cracked from the bitterly cold temperatures (or as a statement of sadness over its' owners' death).
The cold sticks out to me now.... the temperatures in the negatives. It seems very fitting for the events that transpired in my life in the month of January.
January is always cold... well, because it is January. The week after Chris passed I remember frigid temperatures. There was no deisre to hang around at the cemetary... it was too cold to be outside for too long.
I don't remember January being so bitterly cold in years before Chris' passing.
But since his passing, I remember that week in January following his death. I remember how cold it was. That was the week our back patio cracked from the bitterly cold temperatures (or as a statement of sadness over its' owners' death).
The cold sticks out to me now.... the temperatures in the negatives. It seems very fitting for the events that transpired in my life in the month of January.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
PIANO
I have made a few trips to the Cancer Center about an hour from here in the last few weeks. I have had the opportunity to continue to accompany my husband's cousin to her doctor appointments and treatments.
I have been pleasantly surprised at how well I have done with it all. It seems every time we go, we walk into another place that has memories that takes me back. Amazing how many waiting rooms I sat in years ago. Each for a different reason, a different test or scan, a different doctor, a different treatment. When my stay in the waiting rooms was long, I would sometimes walk out into the hall. Each floor in the Cancer Center (aside from the hospital room floors) has a balcony that overlooks the lobby. There are volunteers that come in and perform in the 'background' their various musical talents. I remember the piano. I don't know who, and perhaps it was several different people, but I remember laying on the bench floors above the lobby, passing the time while listening to someone play the piano. It was soothing.
A couple years ago, I had stopped into the Cancer Center around Christmas time as I was looking for a particular item I knew they sold there in the Gift Shop. When I walked in, I was struck by the sound of the piano. I walked into the gift shop, but was overcome and I had to leave.
With my recent visits there I have seen guitar players and other instruments, but this past week I walked in to a pianist. It felt good. He was young and talented. I watched him. He was casually watching the hustle of the lobby while playing a beautiful and soothing piece. He caught my eye, and I smiled. I was grateful. Grateful that time has passed enough for me to feel the soothing peace in the music and grateful for people like him that share their talents so people like me can feel some peace in their storm.
I have been pleasantly surprised at how well I have done with it all. It seems every time we go, we walk into another place that has memories that takes me back. Amazing how many waiting rooms I sat in years ago. Each for a different reason, a different test or scan, a different doctor, a different treatment. When my stay in the waiting rooms was long, I would sometimes walk out into the hall. Each floor in the Cancer Center (aside from the hospital room floors) has a balcony that overlooks the lobby. There are volunteers that come in and perform in the 'background' their various musical talents. I remember the piano. I don't know who, and perhaps it was several different people, but I remember laying on the bench floors above the lobby, passing the time while listening to someone play the piano. It was soothing.
A couple years ago, I had stopped into the Cancer Center around Christmas time as I was looking for a particular item I knew they sold there in the Gift Shop. When I walked in, I was struck by the sound of the piano. I walked into the gift shop, but was overcome and I had to leave.
With my recent visits there I have seen guitar players and other instruments, but this past week I walked in to a pianist. It felt good. He was young and talented. I watched him. He was casually watching the hustle of the lobby while playing a beautiful and soothing piece. He caught my eye, and I smiled. I was grateful. Grateful that time has passed enough for me to feel the soothing peace in the music and grateful for people like him that share their talents so people like me can feel some peace in their storm.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
WATCHING THEM GROW UP
I was just watching the movie The Last Song. I didn't know anything about the movie... it just looked like a good clean family movie to watch.
My father-in-law died in an industrial accident years ago, before he was my father-in-law. Our families were friends, so I still remember very clearly when I was told he had passed. There had been an explosion, he was burned badly. He had survived a couple days, but then passed.
In the early days of the TV Show ER, I used to enjoy watching it. My mother-in-law would watch with me. I remember one time the subject matter of the show was a case involving a burn victim. My mother-in-law left the room. She couldn't watch. I understood, but didn't understand what that felt like.
Tonight as I was watching the movie, I found it was about a father who had been estranged from his children. He has them come stay with him for the summer. As the movie unfolds you discover he is dying from cancer. It is still hard to watch that. I find it impossible to watch it - without feeling those feelings all over again. Without looking at the 'reality' of life as I know it.... as my kids know it. Without feeling the pain all over again of my kids growing up without their father. Now, years later, I can truly understand what that must have felt like for my mother-in-law. Why she preferred to change the channel on those nights.
In the movie the older sister comments regarding her younger brother that her dad won't get to see him grow up.
I would just like to disagree with that, if I may. My kids are not the little kids they were when their father passed. They have grown up. They are turning into teenagers, young adults with mature thoughts and decision making power. They have missed the daily interaction with their father. Had he been here, they would have become someone else. But, even though he was not here... I know that he has watched them grow up. He has been there for them in moments he could not have been otherwise. He has not been able to physically hold them or discipline them, but he has been able to help them feel his love for them when they needed it. He has watched them grow up. Death takes away many things, but that is not one of them.
My father-in-law died in an industrial accident years ago, before he was my father-in-law. Our families were friends, so I still remember very clearly when I was told he had passed. There had been an explosion, he was burned badly. He had survived a couple days, but then passed.
In the early days of the TV Show ER, I used to enjoy watching it. My mother-in-law would watch with me. I remember one time the subject matter of the show was a case involving a burn victim. My mother-in-law left the room. She couldn't watch. I understood, but didn't understand what that felt like.
Tonight as I was watching the movie, I found it was about a father who had been estranged from his children. He has them come stay with him for the summer. As the movie unfolds you discover he is dying from cancer. It is still hard to watch that. I find it impossible to watch it - without feeling those feelings all over again. Without looking at the 'reality' of life as I know it.... as my kids know it. Without feeling the pain all over again of my kids growing up without their father. Now, years later, I can truly understand what that must have felt like for my mother-in-law. Why she preferred to change the channel on those nights.
In the movie the older sister comments regarding her younger brother that her dad won't get to see him grow up.
I would just like to disagree with that, if I may. My kids are not the little kids they were when their father passed. They have grown up. They are turning into teenagers, young adults with mature thoughts and decision making power. They have missed the daily interaction with their father. Had he been here, they would have become someone else. But, even though he was not here... I know that he has watched them grow up. He has been there for them in moments he could not have been otherwise. He has not been able to physically hold them or discipline them, but he has been able to help them feel his love for them when they needed it. He has watched them grow up. Death takes away many things, but that is not one of them.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
NEVER ALONE
As I read the following story told by James E. Faust, it reminded me of how I felt facing my life alone after Chris' passing. It reminded me of the gratitude I felt (feel) for a loving Father in Heaven who knows me and loves me and walks beside me. We never are alone... unless we choose to walk away from Him.
"One young woman became much more aware of the wonderful relationship we have to our Heavenly Father when she left home for the first time to go to college. Her father gave her a blessing and expressed his love. Then she writes:
'I clung to his words of love and support as I said a painful good-bye to my family. I felt alone and scared in those uncharted waters. Before I left the apartment that morning, I knelt down to ask for help. Desperately I pleaded with my Heavenly Father for strength to be able to face the college world all alone. I had left my family and friends and everything familiar the day before, and I knew I needed His help.
'My prayers were answered as I reflected on the tender experience with my father the day before. A wave of comfort fell over me as I realized that I had not come to college with the blessing of just my earthly father. I suddenly felt that one day, not so long ago, my Heavenly Father had held me close in His arms. Perhaps He gave me words of advice and encouragement and told me that He believed in me, just as my earthly father had. And at that moment, I knew that I am never without the perfect love and endless support of my Father in Heaven.”
"One young woman became much more aware of the wonderful relationship we have to our Heavenly Father when she left home for the first time to go to college. Her father gave her a blessing and expressed his love. Then she writes:
'I clung to his words of love and support as I said a painful good-bye to my family. I felt alone and scared in those uncharted waters. Before I left the apartment that morning, I knelt down to ask for help. Desperately I pleaded with my Heavenly Father for strength to be able to face the college world all alone. I had left my family and friends and everything familiar the day before, and I knew I needed His help.
'My prayers were answered as I reflected on the tender experience with my father the day before. A wave of comfort fell over me as I realized that I had not come to college with the blessing of just my earthly father. I suddenly felt that one day, not so long ago, my Heavenly Father had held me close in His arms. Perhaps He gave me words of advice and encouragement and told me that He believed in me, just as my earthly father had. And at that moment, I knew that I am never without the perfect love and endless support of my Father in Heaven.”
Sunday, January 16, 2011
SIX YEARS
On my last day of work a couple weeks ago, I came home to flowers from a friend with a note that read, "To brighten your day and celebrate a new door opening in your life!"
I feel as though that has been my theme this year. Moving forward... new doors opening... I have gained tremendous strength and finished much of the healing process. I am liking the person I am becoming and accepting myself in all my weaknesses. My kids are stronger.. they are better. It truly felt like a milestone year.
We attended church today, my oldest went home with a friend following church and the younger two are snug on the couch with each other watching a movie. Chris died on a Sunday. It is odd thinking the years have gone by enough for the 16th to fall on the same day of the week. It has my mind thinking forward to the events of the days that followed.
I asked my kids today to tell me some 'stories' they remember about their dad. This is what they told me... in their words:
Wrestling on the furry white carpet at Grandma's house.
He woke us up late at night and made us finish our chores.
Packing us a lunch box to go to grandma's and then watching him work (he packed pringles).
When we worked with him he gave us cracker sticks with cheese (in the little packages).
In the winter when he plowed at Grandma's he would make us big hills to sled on.
When we went to the hospital to see him they gave us popsicles.
When he was sick I (daughter) would come home from school and sit in his blue chair with him and watch TV with him.
He made me (youngest son) fried bologna for lunch.
We wanted to play in the sprinkler but he made us clean our room.
He put the train around the Christmas Tree.
He read us Harry Potter every night.
He told us ghost stories.
He took us to plane shows and car shows.
He took us out on the boat and when he turned fast our sister would cry.
He had dogs.
He showed us a stick bug.
Six years and moving forward. Life goes on. The Lord compensates for the loss. Joy is felt.
I think I am going to put in a fire.... and join the kids for the movie. And tonight when I say my prayers... I am going to express my gratitude for the tender mecies and the blessings that have made my cup to 'runneth over'.
I feel as though that has been my theme this year. Moving forward... new doors opening... I have gained tremendous strength and finished much of the healing process. I am liking the person I am becoming and accepting myself in all my weaknesses. My kids are stronger.. they are better. It truly felt like a milestone year.
We attended church today, my oldest went home with a friend following church and the younger two are snug on the couch with each other watching a movie. Chris died on a Sunday. It is odd thinking the years have gone by enough for the 16th to fall on the same day of the week. It has my mind thinking forward to the events of the days that followed.
I asked my kids today to tell me some 'stories' they remember about their dad. This is what they told me... in their words:
Wrestling on the furry white carpet at Grandma's house.
He woke us up late at night and made us finish our chores.
Packing us a lunch box to go to grandma's and then watching him work (he packed pringles).
When we worked with him he gave us cracker sticks with cheese (in the little packages).
In the winter when he plowed at Grandma's he would make us big hills to sled on.
When we went to the hospital to see him they gave us popsicles.
When he was sick I (daughter) would come home from school and sit in his blue chair with him and watch TV with him.
He made me (youngest son) fried bologna for lunch.
We wanted to play in the sprinkler but he made us clean our room.
He put the train around the Christmas Tree.
He read us Harry Potter every night.
He told us ghost stories.
He took us to plane shows and car shows.
He took us out on the boat and when he turned fast our sister would cry.
He had dogs.
He showed us a stick bug.
Six years and moving forward. Life goes on. The Lord compensates for the loss. Joy is felt.
I think I am going to put in a fire.... and join the kids for the movie. And tonight when I say my prayers... I am going to express my gratitude for the tender mecies and the blessings that have made my cup to 'runneth over'.
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