What Grizelda's Taught Me

Here in Utah it is a cold blustery day—the perfect day to cuddle up in my favorite chair covered in my favorite blanket and read a good book. But there are errands to run, meals to be fixed, drawers to be cleaned out, bills to be paid, lessons to prepare, and of course a BYU basketball game to be watched. There are always so many things to do and such little time to do them. But going through the battle with Grizelda brought me face to face with the possibility that time will run out and so I’d better use it to gather as much knowledge and make as many beautiful memories as possible because that’s all I’ll take with me—knowledge and memories.

So what will I do today? The errands first because that means getting the food for D5’s birthday dinner tomorrow. (That will be a new memory to take with me!) Next preparing a lesson for tomorrow. (That means gaining new knowledge.) And watching the game is a must because my grandson is coming to watch it with me. (Big time memory!) But I’ll also spend at least a few minutes in the chair wrapped in my favorite blanket because that is both gaining knowledge and making a warm fuzzy memory. And the rest of the things on the list will get done if there is time. 

But I’m not going to fret over them! 

I’ll just fit them into the left-over minutes if I can.

Dancing in the Rain

Now that my children are grown and all have children of their own, I look back on my days of mothering with different eyes. I do remember the overwhelmed feelings caused by laundry, getting meals on, disciplining, bathing, diapering, finances, homework, and so many other things. But what comes to mind most often now are the good times–the camping trips, sitting around the table after Sunday dinner visiting, snuggling, reading together, and gathering around the piano to sing, I miss those times a lot.
There is one memory that I especially love. Late one night after all the kids were in bed and asleep it started to rain–not just a sprinkle. Water poured down in great streams. I watched for a few minutes out the window as I was getting ready for bed. Light coming from the street lamp on the corner shined magically through the cascading rain and reflected in the large puddles forming on the lawn.
Suddenly, without giving it much thought, I woke up the children and marched them out into the rain. In our pajamas, we lifted our faces to accept the rain’s kiss. We opened our mouths and drank in the heavenly water. We danced, we ran in circles, we splashed, we played airplanes, we laughed, we sang, we joined hands and played ring-around-the-rosies, falling into the puddles and feeling the tickle of wet grass against our legs.
Hearing the laughter Carl joined us and we played until everyone was soaked to the skin. Then we went inside, changed into dry pajamas and drank hot chocolate–still giggling. It was way past bed time and that wasn’t the only family rule broken, but none of that really ever mattered. I can’t remember if we were on time for scripture study the next morning or even on time for school. I don’t remember any burden from washing all those pajamas and towels. All I remember is the love and joy I felt for my children and for my Heavenly Father as we danced in the rain.
Lookingback on my days of mothering, the only regret I now have is that I worried too much about things such as bed time and laundry. I wish I had spent more time dancing in the rain.

Please leave stories of the memory making things you've done with your family for others to see!