GREAT NEWS ON A SAD DAY

I think I just lost the whole thing.... Gary and Eric, with Caelan, Morgan, and Padraig, unexpectedly returned from their camping trip--rained and hailed out. Caelan is upset and I've said they can go ahead and set the tent up on the lawn for the night. We'll see.

Eric announced his engagement to Adelina Luong, a beautiful young woman who is in her second year of residency in surgical pathology. They plan to be married on October 18, and Adelina says that Dolly, Sherri and I can plan the whole thing! We're excited and hope that as many of our kids as possible will be able to be here.

The funeral for our dear friends, David Goddard and his daughter, Cecilee, was today; it ended a very long, intense week for us and was attended by nearly a thousand people.

Well, as I said in the post I think I lost (maybe I did and maybe I didn't...), I need to get back to working on my lesson for church tomorrow. It's on "Gifts of the Spirit."

Mom/Corrie

Great News on a Sad Day

Hi, All, Here I am, blogging my little heart out--it's a lot different from writing my columns, articles, and books. It's more like writing a letter and sending it into the ether--I don't know who or if anybody will receive my words. At least with a letter, I'm pretty sure my message gets to where I mailed it, unless the PO returns it....

Today, August 30, has been almost more than I can actually write down--something unusual for me!

I woke up this morning to hug Padraig who had arrived with his two brothers last night just about bedtime. I checked the orange cream fruit salad I'd made for the funeral today. Eric called Gary and I down so that Caelan could tell us that his dad was engaged. I'm thrilled, because I met Andalina a couple of weeks ago--she's a wonderful person. They plan to be married in the St. George Temple on October 18.

I left to get my hair done (leaving for two weeks necessitates serious hair help). While under the dryer, I worked on the lesson I have to give in Relief Society tomorrow. And I was finally able to talk to Linda for a few minutes about their trip here on Sept. 14 - 23 for Robert's wedding (I'm unsure about the end date...). I will be in Ogden the weekend of Sept. 12-13 for the League of Utah Writer's Round-Up.

The funeral this afternoon was heart wrenching but filled with peace and laughter, too. Gary played taps at the internment. We didn't get a chance to talk to any of the family--there were close to a thousand people at the service. But we'll visit when we get back in town--that's when they'll need more support, anyway.

OK, this is taking more time than I have--I have to finish preparing my lesson for Church tomorrow.

My Heart is Heavy But My Spirit is Strong

With my friends and family in Cedar City, I'm in the midst of an eventful, wonderful, agonizing, awful week (pretty much just like life...). Early Saturday morning (August 23), Gary and I entered the St. George temple to be with Val, the sweet young woman who cared for Grandma Gwynne this past year. She was marrying Justin, a really neat young man that we'd grown to love, too. And, because Val is the only member of the LDS faith in her family, she honored Gary and I by asking us to be her escort and witness. I cried with happiness during much of the ceremony and in the Bride's room.

We went outside for the pictures on the temple steps and Gary turned on his cell phone where he found the message that one of our dearest friends and his daughter Dave Goddard and Cecilee) were killed in a terrible plane crash the night before. We went from joyous celebration of the formation of a new family to profound sorrow at the devastation of so many others. I'm pretty sure the accident made the national news. Ten people, including the pilot died instantly just after they took off from the airport in Moab, Utah. Our whole town is in mourning.

Yesterday, our church services were filled with a solemn hush as we drew together and felt the Spirit comfort us. Gary directed the choir in singing "I'm a Pilgrim, I'm a Stranger" a plaintive hymn about our earthly lives being a time of uncertainty and sorrow. The last verse, though, speaks about turning to God for safety and peace. The choir and the audience were sobbing by the end of it.

Tonight there will be a memorial service at Southern Utah University and another on Thursday night where the Orchestra of Southern Utah will perform a musical tribute to those we lost and their families. Gary is first trumpet in the orchestra. Dave and Cecilee's funeral will be Saturday at 1:00 p.m.

I find myself weeping, then I feel such a sweet peace in my faith, the faith I shared with Dave. I realize that death comes to all of us--it's as much a part of life as birth. I can find strength and solace through my savior, Jesus Christ, who bore my sorrows, as well as my sins.

And my weeping turns to joy.

“Are You an Adult who Behaves Badly?”

For many years I’ve written a patriotic-themed column at the beginning of July, our nation’s Birthday month. I’ve talked about pride in family, community, and country. The feedback I’ve received has always been positive and supportive, but this year I received a response that was down-right scary.
In my July 5, 2008 column, I decried the increasingly negative, even vicious personal attacks coming from extremists on both sides of the political spectrum. I said, “Where in the world have ‘discussion,’ ‘debate,’ and ‘polite disagreement’ gone to? At least we’re not shooting each other with actual bullets, ...not yet. But I’ve heard threats to bring criminal charges against the Bush administration, which means certain folks want to follow in the footsteps of Stalin, Hitler and others who jailed their political opponents when they gained enough power to do so.
I’ve witnessed, even in my own family, relationships ruptured, feelings hurt, and trenches dug which were almost too broad to be crossed. Why can’t people just state their points of view about religion, politics, local government, gas prices, etc, etc, and allow everyone else the same privilege?”
One person ignored my call for civility and lashed out that “of course, George Bush should be jailed as a criminal” and went on to accuse me of advocating water boarding and being a terrorist, myself.
The reason I found this attack so distressful was that, not only did this person seem to believe America is a terrible country and our armed services personnel unworthy of support, he/she advocated punishing a political opponent through jail time. Political opponents and dissidents are jailed or executed in totalitarian countries all over the world. I certainly don’t want to believe that there’s enough motivation for the winner of this year’s presidential election to even consider bringing criminal charges against the administration preceding him.
We have a unique centuries-old tradition of political squabbling before elections, with verbal attacks, cartoon lampooning, etc. One raucous event during the 1872 presidential election year deteriorated into opponents whacking each other with canes on the Senate floor. But once the election is over, most folks go back to their normal lives. In the past few years, though, I’ve witnessed people becoming more and more radicalized, while the majority seems paralyzed from fear of becoming targets for the radicals.
This kind of disrespect for elected authority spawns violence in the general population. When hatred and anger take over our lives and become the focal point of our thinking, we shrivel inside. Respecting even those with whom we disagree doesn’t mean we condone criminal activity or avoid taking a stand for the right. But it does mean that we allow those whose opinions are different the same courtesy we’d like for ourselves.
May I again urge you to rely on Help From Above as you set an example for your children about how responsible adults conduct their political and personal lives. Together, we can restore civility in public discourse and peace in our hearts.

Would you believe that the same guy who called me a terrorist came back and repeated his assertion even more aggressively? So much for "civility in public discourse!"

Best,

Corrie Lynne

“Fashion, Maternity or Otherwise, Makes No Sense”

A couple of weeks ago, I chuckled over a fellow columnist’s bemoaning the challenges of being “fashionably pregnant.” She said the shirts “looked like nothing more than small tents topped with ridiculous bows, and I seemed to gain 100 pounds just by putting them on.”
I remembered my own efforts to clothe my rapidly expanding body and mused about what has happened to the way we dress, in general, in the last decade or two.
I’d been trying to get pregnant for many years, so the minute I found out my eldest son was incubating, I rushed out to buy booties and maternity clothes. I was thrilled to be joining the ranks of bulging tummies. In those days, “maternity” was a special category of fashion; the clothing was designed to “draw attention from the waistline to the special glow of pregnancy.” Women’s magazines in the Seventies were kind of schizophrenic–lauding female heavy equipment operators and chiding stay-at-home moms about wasting their talents on one hand, while touting natural child birth and urging women to “free their senses” on the other.
I remember wandering through the maternity section at a local department store. I saw racks of pastel smocks embroidered with ducks and bunnies or cutsie sayings like, “My Heir is Becoming Apparent.” Donning a smock designated the wearer as “in the family way” so I bought the most obvious one I could find, gave myself a back ache poking out my stomach, and beamed with pride when somebody said, “Are you expecting?”
The pants were all alike with stretchy panels and were designed to go under the smocks without making a big deal of the whole thing. As my friend said, dresses were basically tents with lots of shirring, bows, and ruffles, all strategically placed and designed to shout “Pregnant!” while modestly covering everything.
I think the idea behind these fashion statements was “better pregnant than fat.” Besides, pregnant people went to the front of the line in the ladies rest room, found seats on crowded commuter trains, and, in general, enjoyed a privileged status.
Today, maternity fashions of yore seem to have given way to a more “in your face” kind of attitude. But, then, I notice that current fashions consist of little more than a few bits of cloth strategically placed, so why should the fact that a baby is “hatching” make any difference? The other day, I saw a woman in a cropped halter top and low rider pants that had to have been stapled on; her belly bulged between the two like a skin covered basketball. I wondered if she had any idea how ridiculous she looked. ... I don’t think anybody would have wanted to give her a seat on a crowded commuter train.
She strode along, holding the hand of a little girl who looked about six and must have been her daughter. The child wore a red spaghetti strap top that stopped just below her breast bone, white micro-mini shorts, and pink flip-flops. When the girl grows up, she’ll probably wear a thong bikini as a maternity outfit and call it good.
Unfortunately, this “barely there” fashion statement is far from unusual. Most young women bare their midriffs with little thought. When I shop for my granddaughters, I can rarely find anything suitable, unless I buy an extra shirt for them to wear under the top. I notice even my friends from church let their babies and little children wear skimpy sun dresses and go swimming in bikinis. These same women will struggle with their teenaged daughters who will wonder why skimpy sun-dresses, strapless formals and bikinis are now off limits.
If we ever needed Help From Above, we sure need it when we decide what to put on our bodies–and the bodies of our children! I hope you consider the example and precedents you’re setting when you wear revealing fashions or dress your little girl like a miniature street walker.

Does all this bother the rest of you? Or am I just pretty much out of step with today's world?

Corrie Lynne