IT DOESN'T TAKE MUCH

Lately I've felt like a lowly little petunia in an onion patch. A half hour ago someone smiled and joked with me. I feel better now. Such a little thing but it holds such power.

I hope someone smiles and jokes with you today. If not, I hope you will be the smiler and jokster because there is a lot of fear and hurt going around and you can make a difference.

OTHER PEOPLE'S TROUBLES TROUBLE ME

Why is this? When I hear that other people are having problems such as loss of job, worries, problems with ill health or worries over their children or other family members I become depressed. I worry and fret and wring my hands.

Tonight I got a phone call. The person on the other end told me about problem after problem and by the time I hung up I was so low I could have won a limbo contest.

This person didn't even like Mamma Mia--they saw the bad language and the refrences to past sins and walked out of the movie in protest. I loved the movie. I saw all the funny parts, the love this woman had for her daughter, the love the daughter had for her mom. Now, this phone call has ruined the movie for me. I should have seen all the bad parts, maybe. Am I too nieve? Am I wrong to gloss over the bad parts and focus on the tender, loving parts? And the funny parts, well, maybe the phone call just can't ruin it after all. I will go again and see the funny parts and the loving parts and not listen to the bad words. But then again, am I supporting a movie that should have had higher standards? Should I have walked out in a huff?

Phil can't understand why I allow other people's opinions and their problems to affect me.

"Can you do anything about it?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"Then why do you let it bother you?"

"I don't know, it just does."

Does anyone have an answer for this? Some trick that will relieve me of this unnecessary, depressing worry?

A couple of months ago one of the women who writes a blog I check on started on her history. I really admire this woman but I couldn't read it. She lived through it, and is still fine and perking but I couldn't read the trials she had gone through. I became so depressed. What's the matter with me?

A few days ago Phil read an article out of the newspaper out loud to me. It was about how the Chinese have been so underhanded with so many areas of the Olympics, starting with the little girl that was going to sing in the Opening Exercises but because of her poor teeth they brought in a "pretty child" who just mouthed the words that the other girl sang. It took much of the joy out of watching the Olympics. Every Chinese participant I see I wonder, what did you have to give up to be here? Your family? Your freedom to choose whether you wanted to do this or not? Did you have to wear adult diapers to practice the Opening Exercises because no one gave you bathroom time? Did you loose ten pounds because no one fed you or gave you any thing to drink and you didn't get to sleep for two days? What is the matter with people that the image is more important than the people?

And then, when the age of the Chinese girl gymnasts became suspicious I wondered why this is so important that lying and cheating has to be involved. The whole world is involved in lying and cheating. Don't we remember who we are? Doesn't any of our divine heritage shine in us? And because I like Mamma Mia maybe my divine heritage is being stomped to dust too.

I won't even start on politics. I'll just say if I see either candidate on TV I click the mute button. Their accusations, their slander and ridicule sickens me. At times I feel like I'd rather be led by a chicken. Or a goat, maybe.

Other than living in a cave, which, obviously I can't do, what do you suggest? Does anyone else deal with this? And if you do and have conquered the blues and the sadness please tell me how.

I realize this blog has wandered all over the place. I'm sorry I couldn't stick to one subject and be succinct. I just had to talk all this stuff out. I should have written it out in longhand, it would have dissipated easier that way.

I'm okay now, don't worry about me. Our neighbors came over. They laughed and joked and we talked for over a half hour and then I got a hug from the Mom part of this couple and I felt better.

My angels sent them, I'm sure of it. If they hadn't I would have called someone I secretly call my "All is Well," friend. She always knows what to say to make me fell better. I hope you have both. An "All is Well" friend and loving angels who are watching over you. Well, I know you have the latter, you just might not realize it.

THE SAD NEW AND THE GOOD NEWS

Some time ago I told you about Gilmore Girl's sister-in-law who was carrying twins. One of the twins had severe health problems. The whole family and us too--we feel like family, we love her so much--fasted and prayed and then Phil and I have fasted for her each Sunday since. All of a sudden the baby was doing better. She even started gaining weight like her sister. Here is the baby shower. Both babies were doing well and then the mom-to-be had to go into the hospital and be monitored--the little one who had health problems had to have a monitor on her portion of her Momma's tummy 24 hours a day. The healthy twin had to be monitored 2 hours a day. The new mom-to-be was so patient, did everything the doctors told her to. The babies got bigger. She was patient in the hospital for a long time but knew that everything she did right gave her babies a better chance.

I don't have all the details but the little twin who was in distress didn't make it. Her sister was born fine--5 pounds 12 ounces, I think. I know the new Momma and Daddy are grieving for that little lost one they loved so much. I also know they are so thrilled to have their other little one here safely.

This new little baby will grow up knowing her sister is with her Heavenly Father. I know she will feel lonely, I know she will wish her sister had lived. We all do.

I think her sister was granted a special blessing. I think her health improved so that she could stay in the womb while her sister got big enough to be born healthy. What would have happened if her health had deteriorated earlier? Would her sister have survived? I don't know.

I do know that her parents will miss her every day of their lives. They will have her sister to watch and love and teach and love some more. They will always know just how big her sister would have been if she had lived. They will watch their daughter's progress, watch when she turns over, learns to crawl, gets her first tooth, takes her first steps, says her first word. It will be a joyous time. They will miss all those firsts of her sister but her sister will never be forgotten. She will always be loved.

Only those of you who have lost a child or had a miscarriage will know how they feel. I know how they feel.

I am so sad for their loss and so happy for the new little one that will fill their hearts to overflowing. I can't wait to get my hands on her. I want to look into her eyes and tell her that I love her, too. And I will whisper into her ear that I loved her sister. And then I will tell her that she and her sister will be reunited one day and it will be a joyous day, more joyous than all others.

So, amidst the sad new is the good news and also the joyous news of reuniting one day when all will be together again.

PS FOR YESTERDAY'S FLEETING HAPPINESS POST

Don't feel sorry for me. I'm not sad or depressed. The "happy" I was talking about was/is pure joy. I have felt it a few times in my life. I think this is how we felt when we lived with our Heavenly parents before coming here, to earth life. I think this was the state we lived in, pure joy.

I have felt that joy a few times in my life. The most memorable one was after I lost a baby. I was five month pregnant and the baby died. He was perfect. The doctor couldn't find anything wrong. I could not heal. I grieved. There is nothing more powerful to say than to say I grieved. If you have ever lost a child you will understand.

In prayer I finally asked Heavenly Father if I could just see my child. That night, in a dream, my oldest child, Trent, brought the baby, Stephen, to me. The baby was dressed in a blue, footed sleeper. He had dark hair, like my other children had had--this was before my blond haired, blue eyed Bentley was born. Trent gave Stephen to me and my whole being was flooded with joy. It is my most precious memory.

That's the joy I'm talking about. That's the joy that comes so rarely. That's the joy we lived with, I think, when we lived with our Heavenly parents. That's the joy I miss. Maybe you miss it too.

WHERE DOES THE HAPPY GO?

Tonight, while watching the Tabernacle Choir on TV I all of a sudden got a warm burst of happiness. It felt so good, so normal, like that is how I should feel every minute of every day. I think that is how we felt when we lived with Heavenly Father before coming to earth. Not all people believe that but I do and I think we were perfectly joyful.

Earth life is hard because we don't remember Heaven and we aren't able to know that no matter what happens here we will be all right. That we will be united with our Heavenly parents and our earthly parents too. It's hard to remember that when it's cold and dark and you worry about so many things.

Phil always says faith and fear cannot coexist. He's right.

Today I taught part of the lesson in Relief Society. I told the sisters how much I miss my mother. I told them I think she is with me a lot of the time, that angels are with all of us. We can't see them but they are there. I wish I were in tune enough to see my angels. Tonight, right now, when it's so dark and cold outside and I am missing my mom and the happy has fled. It would be comforting.

MY COUSIN DIED TODAY

My cousin, Dick and his wife, Lannie were in Arizona, at their daughter and son-in-law's house for Thanksgiving. He died in his sleep this morning. He didn't even meet the national life expectancy age.

I am so sad. He was older than me by a bunch--my sister's age so she knows him really well. I remember as a kid thinking he was simply the best. He was funny, smart and good looking, He went on a mission (two years) for our church (LDS) and when he came back he told me I had changed from a kid to a young lady. He kept telling me I was beautiful. I will never forget how I felt--I wanted to be thought of as grown up and I was thrilled to hear someone say it. The "beautiful" part was a bonus. I hugged him and got lipstick on his white shirt collar. I hoped he wouldn't know who was responsible as everyone was hugging him.

He met Lannie, who was from Arizona and she was the cutest girl alive. Honest, she was. (Still is.) She had gorgeous dark hair, a face like an angel, and had a personality that wouldn't quit. One day Dick was teasing me and I was mad at him so I stomped my foot and said, "You don't deserve Lannie!" He just laughed. Of course he deserved her.

They have parented a bunch of children and have a whole gaggle of grandchildren. Dick's dad, Uncle Virge--who I adore--has lived with them for a long time. Uncle Virge is ninety-six. He has lived to loose his wife and both of his sons. Today is a sad day. Today is also a thankful day for the way Dick lived his life and for the fine people he reared and taught right from wrong. I'm sorry I didn't tell him I loved him. I think he knew but gosh, why didn't I write him a letter and tell him so? I have lost the chance, now. Lost it forever.

One of my New Year's resolutions in January was to write one hundred letters. I did write a few, maybe twenty-five, maybe even as many as thirty-five. I didn't keep track. There are lots of people I love and admire. Some I sympathize with and want to tell them I'm sorry that they are going through hard times.

There are thirty-eight days before another New Year's Eve rolls around. I'm not going to make my goal.

Why have I put off doing this really important thing in my life? Email is fast and easy but not like a beautiful piece of stationery in an envelope with a stamp. Not like that perfect card you have spent 20 minutes hunting for at the Hallmark store. Not even like a note, scrawled on a piece of notebook paper, torn from the spiral binding with the "chads" still dangling. (They probably aren't "chads" but it seemed like the perfect word.)

In my kitchen window is a thank-you card from a friend. It has water spots on it from the kitchen sink. It is faded from the sun and you know what? It's been there since July. Why is it still there? Here's why: "...I do so appreciate our friendship. You are so fun and make me happy when ever I am with you. I love you so much. Fondly, Jo" I take it down and read it often. It makes me feel good. It reminds me that I have a good friend and hopefully have been a good friend back. It reminds me that I am loved.

So, even though I didn't make my goal of one hundred cards, notes or letters this year I think I will make the same goal this New Year's Eve.

I will write to Lannie. How will I ever be able to tell her how sad I am that her husband has died? How will I ever be able to tell her how much I love and admire her? I have to try, otherwise how will she know?

I will write to my kids. Hopefully they know they are wonderful and that I think they are exactly who they should be but I need to tell them that. How will they know I think they are wonderful and why, if I don't tell them?

I will write to my friends--so many I love for so many different reasons. They probably all would love to get a letter, a real letter in the mail.

I will write because it's important and is becoming a lost art. It's important. It's going to be one hundred times important next year. I promise.