Welcome Home

I think I have established that for Christmas I design sweatshirts for the family and then create a movie to refresh our memories of the past year. This year was no different.

Somewhere along the design road I have developed a "theme" to follow while creating the movie and the sweatshirts. I usually have a reason for my thinking and this year was no different.

It goes as follows:

My family is growing and changing and moving on. I have worked really, really, REALLY hard to always provide them a safe place to land. I WANT them to want to be home. I want their friends to ALWAYS be able to walk in and feel like they are home. And the desire continues on. Now I have the desire to make sure my extended grandkids as well as my own grandbabies know that when they need love, comfort, security, a warm meal, or bubblegum that they find themselves on my doorstep.

That was the driving force behind Christmas this year. Home. We have a good one.

Enjoy...

Our Sweatshirts:

Right Sleeve:

The Evil Among Us

I'm watching the news. I've been sitting here all day. I'm stunned that another human being could walk into a school, a theater, a mall and aim a gun at the innocent.

I'm disgusted that we do this to ourselves. It's not rocket science. Be nice to those you meet. Don't judge. Don't bully. Don't retaliate when you are hurt.  Remember the most important commandment?

Do unto others as you would have others do unto you. [Matthew 7:12]  

Maybe we all need to take a look at our moral compass and see what we stand for. According to Wikipedia, Malcolm X is the guy to say, "Stand for something or you will fall for anything."

Steel yourself to stand for good.

These are the best of times...and the worst of times.

Periodically I return to my blog and read my thoughts. Is that weird? Hmmm. I don't know if it is or not, but I do it and I will most likely continue to do so.

Some of my stuff is VERY dramatic. A couple of weeks ago a girl that reads Shelby's blog put her up for the Liebster Award. It's some award that is for bloggers that are just starting out in the blogging craze. It helps to get their name out there and let others see their stuff. Pretty cool, I think.

Anyhow, while looking into the award, I Googled "Liebster Award" and came across quite a few blogs that had been nominated. I read a few that were light and silly and fun and clever and humorous. Mine isn't really like that. I  don't know if that is good or bad. To be honest, I was a bit dismayed. I have this vision of myself as a 60's child. You know, light, airy, easy, free. After re-reading my thoughts I think my vision may be a bit skewed. Sigh.

Once again, I'll write about what is going on. It feels heavy. So much for light and airy.

I went to a funeral again this week. I should have attended another funeral. I intended to attend it, but I got hit by a flu bug this week and I spent yesterday snorting and sniffing snot instead of giving support to my friend, Brit. 

Shelby has a group of boys that are her friends. True to form, if my kids call them friend, I call them friend. So the correct statement would be that I have a friend named Charlie who buried his mother this week. It was awful. Charlie is Shelby's age and I couldn't help but think about my kids and how difficult and sad it would be to leave them. My heart literally HURTS for Charlie and his family. I have lost sleep worrying about them. Awful. Awful. Awful.

I was at the funeral (which was BEAUTIFUL). We sat near the back and I could hear the conversation between the two couples sitting behind us. They were friends that hadn't seen each other in a while. They were catching up on "how the kids were", "how they were growing", "how much time had passed". They laughed and joked and joshed with each other. It was quite entertaining. What gave me pause was when they were talking about "the only time we see anybody is at funerals." They talked about this for a bit. I didn't turn around to see them, but you could hear the sadness in their voices.

I contemplate on this "time" of my life. I love many, many, many parts of my life. I love being a Grandma. I love seeing my kids as grown-ups. I love that they are successful, kind, giving individuals that contribute to those surrounding them. I love adding members to my family. I didn't know we were missing anybody in our family, until Diana and Daulton rolled around and all I could think was "Oh, THERE you are. We were missing you." Every addition makes my family more and more and more and more complete. I love that I don't try to please people anymore. At times, I embarrass my kids (namely Shelby), but I don't have ANY tolerance for mean people, lazy people or bullies. And now I'm not afraid to say it out loud. I fight for those who cannot fight for themselves.

Yet, I'm afraid of losing my parents. I'm afraid of losing the Aunts and Uncles that were so crucial in forming and molding me into a somewhat decent human being. It saddens me that I don't have Grandparents around to see that I'm okay and to check in at times with my kids to tell them the stories that I used to hear.

My Aunt Sue was diagnosed yesterday with Breast Cancer. Yes, in case the name rings a bell, it's the Aunt Sue that just buried her daughter to Cancer. It's so scary. They caught it really early and I believe, hope and pray that all go well for her, but that's a horrible word to hear and I know she is afraid.

Makes me crazy with worry and fear and anger and sadness. 

I know I can't focus on the bad. I can't fear my future. Right now, I'll process this last week. I'll stop the pity party because it's not about me and I'll offer my love and support to the people who are REALLY going through this. 

Winnie the Pooh said:

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” 

I'm a really, really, REALLY lucky girl.

Standing on Shoulders

The other day Mark and I had to go pick up a motorcycle from a guy that needed help getting his bike to our shop. We ventured to Orem and met him in the parking lot of WalMart and followed him to his house. We drove right by the house that my friend Becky Hoyt used to own.

A rush of memories flooded my thoughts. I always say that Becky was my Young Womens Advisor when I was young. But, technically, she wasn't. She was the Advisor to the group of girls younger than myself. Something clicked between the two of us. I liked her. She was funny. She was beautiful. She was a great mom. She was compassionate, caring and an all-around-pretty-great-gal. I met her and liked her, but I didn't know the true test of her character that I would witness that would weld our friendship together.

I was 16 and (keeping the story short) I ran away from home. I don't care to explain my actions. Suffice it to say that it was necessary for me to leave and I have ABSOLUTELY NO regrets. None.

Let me tell you, when you step outside of the box and do something that doesn't fit into regular Society, you find out REAL QUICK who your friends are. I'll just politely say that when I came home, many, MANY people had plenty to say to me and if they COMPLETELY lacked character, they would just say it behind my back. Whatever.

As I mentioned, Becky was in a leadership position in the church I attended. She heard the talk. She attended meetings and listened what the other leaders and the girls were saying. Becky made a stand. She climbed right over that wall that others had built up and she stood right beside me.

Years have passed, but my love for Becky has never dwindled. I have many, many stories tucked away in my heart. I think of the time, energy, financial help and friendship she has given me and wonder how my life would have turned out without her in it.

Becky used to take me for drives. She grew up here in the Provo area and she would drive me to her old neighborhoods and tell me stories. Her "stories" always had a lesson. Sometimes they were lessons on forgiveness, sometimes just about life in general i.e.,  motherhood, marriage, church, friendship. She became an integral cog in the wheel of Linnette-adulthood.

I went to her when I was lonely. I went to her when I was happy. She taught me to tole paint. I ironed while she sewed. Our kids played together. Our kids fought together. I love her dearly and am blessed to know her.

Becky might be one in a million. I'm pretty sure she is. What's really, really cool about my story, is that I won the jackpot when it comes to friendship and love.

Becky is the foundation of this story, but she isn't the only story I have. Maybe as my blogging continues, more stories will come out.

Isaac Newton said:

"If I have seen further than others; it is by standing upon the shoulders of giants."

I am surrounded by giants. I have been lifted upon their shoulders when I couldn't see my way. I have never been able to repay these gifts of love. I just pay forward. And maybe, someday, I'll be the Becky Hoyt in somebody else's life.