We Went to Price

When I was a kid, a day trip to Price was unfathomable. When we went, we went to stay. Of course, it was like going to our home away from home, and we never liked leaving Grandma Jessie's. Now, the trip to Price is more of an annual trek, usually on Memorial Day weekend. We carry on the tradition that Grandma introduced us to, visiting the graves of our ancestors, decorating them with flowers and telling their stories to our kids.

Memorial Days were often windy (this one = windy). They smelled of carnations, and we'd fill the VW bug - or later the trunk of the Oldsmobile - with buckets of flowers, trimmers, wire hangers (to use as stakes in order to secure our pots), a hand-brush to tidy up the stones, and Grandma would tie a scarf around her head to protect her ears from the wind.

Jessie Ann, my Grandma and my (middle) namesake. One of Jemma's middle names is Jessie, after her. Uncle Jon, whom I always felt like I knew, but I never met. He was killed in a motorcycle accident in 1968, when he was 22 years old. Jessie Lynn - my dad's baby sister who only lived a few days. Lawrence and Mary Jane - my great-grandparents. My dad called them Papa and Gypsy and I know all sorts of great things about them, even though I never met them either.

Grandma's house is now a Verizon store. It looks nothing, inside or out, like it did when she lived there. We stopped in - to look at phones and have a peek around.

A few things remain intact - like the doors and door handles. It was altogether weird to be checking out a display of iPhones in what used to be my grandma's dining room. Unreal.

Down in the cellar, there were a few remnants from our family, including this old radio and cabinet where my dad had practiced his pinstriping.

We chatted with the girl working there, who was obviously wondering about our keen interest in the place. She asked if anyone had ever died there, and no, no one ever died in that house, even though four generations of the same family had lived there. She said they feel a presence there sometimes at night. Toward the back, in the kitchen.

We don't always take the time, when we're there for the purpose of visiting the cemetery, to do anything else, but this time we drove down Main Street, and stopped in at JC Penney, just out of sheer curiosity. It was like going back in time. I was surprised at how much hasn't changed. Of course, the inventory was updated - we even bought a few things. I never shop at JC Penney, but I felt like we should support that old place and give them some business.

I took snapshots of some of the landmarks from the drive, like this coal mine, but it's hard to evoke the feeling of what it's really like and how this place was the hopeful sign of, "We're almost there!" on the way and marked the beginning of the canyon on the way home. I always loved it most at night because of all the lights.

It's one thing to miss places, but it's another thing entirely to miss people. So many people I love are now gone. People who were the center of my life, for most of my life. Soon it'll no longer be *most* of my life.

We still enjoy this holiday weekend with hopes for warm weather and BBQs and celebrating Chris's birthday (this year it's on Memorial Day), but I'm also glad that we have the tradition of remembering and honoring our family...and passing the experience on to our kids, so they'll have some connection with those who paved the way for us and are no longer here.

Thoughts on a Sabbath Day

I read this yesterday: http://the99percent.com/articles/6947/what-happened-to-downtime-the-extinction-of-deep-thinking-sacred-space. And I was inspired by it. I particularly like the 5 solutions listed at the end of the article.

And with that, I found that I was consciously less connected (electronically) throughout the weekend.

During Sacrament Meeting today I remembered the counsel President Boyer gave us (well, the Youth) a couple years ago: "Wherever you are, be there."

I noticed that Jordan was wearing black ankle socks with his dress pants and shoes.

I took some notes from the speakers.

Larson, who's leaving for a mission on Wednesday, talked about the great power of a testimony, and how testimonies are like muscles. If left unexercised they become weak and uncoordinated. (Uncoordinated!)

Then Peter Breinholt, who is a very talented musician and newly called member of our Stake High Council, spoke and his talk really resonated with me. A few notes:

• We live in a world that often offends the Spirit.
• After returning from a mission you see things differently because the Spirit has been your constant companion. Live in a way that you will have the Spirit with you always.
• "We become proficient at that which holds our attention."
• Allow solitude.

During this, I glanced to my right and noticed that the girl next to me, ironically, was checking Facebook on her phone.

Deep in the Heart

When we went to Texas in July I could not get this out of my mind: "The stars at night...shine big and bright....clap, clap, clap, clap....."

We went to Dallas to visit Mark while Suzanna and Luke were away traveling. Jemma had been looking forward to seeing some wild animals, and we hoped she wouldn't be disappointed since we weren't exactly going to the wild frontier. We had only been out of the car a few minutes when she spotted this rabbit...a well-timed encounter.

We were just in time to celebrate Mark's 24th birthday so we went to dinner at Chuy's for some authentic Tex Mex. The food and the service were both great! As soon as we walked in the door we were greeted with an enthusiastic "Howdy! How ya'll doin' tonight?" We mentioned to the waiter that it was Mark's birthday and he rounded up a whole group for a very loud and very fun singing of the Happy Birthday song.

Here's Mark during the singing. I think it made his night!

Mark took the next day off from work so we could go to Six Flags. We turned ourselves upside down and inside out (literally) on the crazy rides. It all started with the teacups....

The old wooden coaster as seen through the rain. Not recommended.

Mark was up there...somewhere.

The Batwing was a good alternative to Mr. Freeze (the one in the background with a 90 degree drop) for Jemma and me.

THE Six Flags

He's a Texan now!

Jemma really did brave this roller coaster! (She was a little bit proud - if unhappy- about it)

On our way home we went past the Dallas Temple. It was secluded and beautiful.

On Friday, Mark went to work in the morning while we lazed around and played at the pool.





Then we ventured into downtown Dallas to the famous site of the assassination of JFK at Dealy Plaza. It was eerie, even 46 years after the event there is a strange feeling about the place. We went through the Sixth Floor Museum, which left us all feeling a little melancholy. It was fascinating to get the history of JFK's presidency, but there's a lot of dischord with the conspiracy theories that continue to hang around.

Looking up at the sixth floor window.


Looking out from the famous grassy knoll.

The triple overpass.




Switching back to a lighter note...
While in Texas we ate at Whataburger (twice)

Went to Walmart (twice). Pretty much the same as here, except for this:

On Saturday Chris helped Mark repair a toilet seat using an innovating toothpick technique.

While looking at some houses with Mark we came across a water bed! A relic from the 80s??

Mark went to pick up Suzanna and Luke at the airport and took this sign, just in case they didn't recognize him after their long journey.

And here's a picture of little/big Lukie at IHOP:

Grandpa Johnson

Last February Chris's Grandpa Johnson had a stroke. Grandma Johnson brought him home from the hospital with plans for hospice to take over his care, but it wasn't long before the services of hospice were no longer needed. Grandpa regained his strength and had another six months with his family.

In March he celebrated his 91st birthday!

In April he had another Easter.

In May he spent Mother's Day with his dear wife and mother of his children. He sang at the table and asked for rhubarb pie.

In June we honored him on Father's Day.

In July there was a family gathering in their back yard. Grandma read from his journal and poems he had written.

In August his journey here on earth ended. He spent the last years of his life unable to retain recent memories, but he could always recall a song or recite a verse. His funeral was a beautiful tribute to his life. Just seeing about 30 of his grandchildren singing "I Know that My Redeemer Lives" was a sign of the legacy he left.

At the cemetery he was saluted by the military and given an honorable farewell for his service to this country. Grandma, as always, was a picture of grace and strength.

Dad's Birthday

Photo from September 2007. Just finished a slice of pumpkin pie.

My dad's birthday was last Friday. He would have been 66.

There was a car show in St. George, so we decided it would be an appropriate way to honor him. My mom came with us and we brought the Fiero behind an eleven-passenger van. (Too bad we didn't get a photo of it.)

On the way out of Provo we stopped by the cemetery. The headstone isn't there yet, but we decorated his spot. Chris and Jordan had been there earlier in the day to leave a crow and a card (from Rite-Aid of course). It was just the kind of quirky thing that Dad would love.





We added some flowers from the yard, a maple leaf that had turned red and gold, and a little yellow rose (his favorite).


We really miss him.


It was late when we rolled into St. George, but we stopped by to see the Kelschs - who are ready to welcome child #5 to their family in just a few days. We stayed with the Kemps - although we hardly got to see them because of the primary program practice and kid's football games.... We saw Maryann, Clayton and Jayni the next day at the show.


It was a nice day spent with family, old friends, fellow car aficionados, and the Fiero got recognized again with a Second Place prize!

Our gift to him.

Concours d'Elegance

My dad loved cars. He had a thing for classics and sports cars. He knew about engines, body styles, all makes and models. He loved to go to car shows and talk to the owners. Sometimes I'd tag along, and later it was more often Chris who would join him on those jaunts - everywhere from Coalville to California. They shared a common thread in their enthusiasm for cars, and one in particular.

One summer day in 1988 my dad had come home with a brand new red Pontiac Fiero. Imagine the excitement it caused in our home - this flashy little sports car. Imagine our disappointment when we discovered his plan was to keep it safely tucked away in the garage - for at least 20 years.

He had done his research. The 88 Fiero was a different breed than it's predecessors. This was the last year the car was produced, redesigned and improved. Ironically, it was the one that could give you a thrill to drive. But he stuck to his plan and for more than 20 years the Fiero was preserved, but not neglected. Every now and then Chris and my dad would carefully uncover it, back it out of the garage, drive it a few blocks, wipe it with a soft cloth and then put it back in its safe spot. Every year it was more and more of a marvel to unveil this brand new car.

Of all the car shows, the Conours d'Elegance is the premier one. It's the one where you'll see vehicles like nothing you've seen before - the real creme de la creme. A collection of beautifully styled, highly engineered machines.

This year the Fiero made its debut at the Concours. It was not an easy task considering a car of its age with only 460 miles on it can't just be driven, even 15 miles, but Chris made it possible.



We parked it on the lawn at Thanksgiving Point, in the midst of all those exclusive and rare automobiles. Surrounded by names like Ferrari, Porsche, Rolls Royce, Jaguar, we couldn't help but wonder if a Pontiac from 1988 would get some appreciation. But it did.

It got a blue ribbon.

Best in Class.



We drove it across the red carpet and were presented with a trophy, which the announcer dedicated to my dad. The only thing that would have made the entire experience better, was if he had been there with us.

Week at the Lake

Last week was Lake Powell Week. We had sunshine in the daytime...


and clouds rolled in at night.


A trip like this is probably equal parts work and play, but it's all in the name of fun. And the kids always have a blast.


To see a full slideshow click here.