The Power of Association

Way back in the days of manual typewriters—before word processing and before electric typewriters—I learned to test out the touch of a typewriter by typing this sentence: “Now is the time for all good boys to come to the aid of their country.” Supposedly this sentence covers most of the keys on the typewriter so you can get the feel of it. To this day, every time I put my hands on a key pad those words start go go through my head.

Touching my fingers to key pads also brings back another memory. In my freshman year of college I was taking a linguistics class where we had to memorize the phonetic symbols for sounds. I transcribed the "good boys" sentence into phonetic symbols figuring if it had most of the keys it would be an easy way to learn most of the sound symbols. To my surprise the final exam asked us to write out that “good boys” sentence in phonetic symbols. I aced the exam!

The fact that forty-plus years later the simple act of putting my fingers on a key pad brings back those memories is intriguing to me. Our minds are powerful and if instead of just letting things happen we recognize the power of the mind and memory we can make them work for us. We can purposely make associations that will constantly remind us of the things that will make us better, bring us closer to God, and help us remember His ways.

For example: the first thing I see when I wake up every morning and something I stared at when I was recently sick is the light and fan that hangs from the ceiling over my bed. It has five big brown blades and five is the numeric symbol for the Atonement of Jesus Christ. As I open my eyes each morning and see those five blades, I think about the Atonement. Those thoughts encourage and lift me and they get my heart and mind ready for the day. 

 

This is something all of us can do. We don't have to wait for memories to just happen. We can make associations with things we encounter every day that will remind us of our Father in Heaven and our Savior and thus empower and encourage us.

Life is a Gift

To celebrate memorial day we took our Utah children and grandchildren to my father's grave and to Mr. J's parent's graves. We put flowers on the tombstones and talked about memories we had of our parents. It was a wonderful experience, but there was one thing that happened that has left me wallowing in a sense of my own mortality.

I grew up across the street from the Centerville City Cemetery--a beautiful cemetery sitting on the side of the mountain overlooking the Great Salt Lake. I spent hours and hours in that park as a child playing and reading tombstones and wondering about the lives of the peole buried there. I never knew the people but learned their names and which tombstones belonged to whom and being endowed with a marvelous imagination many of those people "came to life" in my mind. I know it sounds crazy, but I gave many of them a story and often talked to them about their lives and mine.

Well, I haven't been back to the cemetery since Dad died five years ago, and that was in January when it was too cold and snow covered to walk around and find all my old "friends."  But yesterday I did walk around and was shocked how much it has changed and how many new graves have filled the place. But most shocking was the fact that almost every tombstone I read was someone I had known. These were no longer strangers I imagined to be friends, these were my friends! Memories sprang to life of times I'd spent with the person--Church leaders, Young Women leaders, friends' parents, some were even friends!, and then there were school teachers and shopkeepers and people I had interacted with at various times in my life. It was, to say the least, sobering.

So today I am filled with a deep sense of my own mortality and have decided that while Memorial Day is a wonderful day to remember those who have passed on, it is also a wonderful day to celebrate the fact that we are still here. As a matter of fact, perhaps the very best way to honor those who have gone on is to honor the life itself. So drink in this day, appreciate every thing you see and hear, and savor every wonderful moment. Life is a gift to be cherished!

An Irish Morning!

“Top of the morning to you!”   

That’s my favorite Irish greeting and appropriate for this St. Patrick’s Day. 

The appropriate Irish response is, “And the rest of the day to you!” (And I'm imagining you saying it to me.)

I love St. Patrick’s Day (maybe because I still believe in leprechauns!). 

When I had children living at home, I started every St. Patrick’s Day off with green pancakes, green eggs, and green milk. 

(I used a lot of green food coloring on this day!) 

It was always fun, and now gives me lots of warm, fuzzy memories. 

But the best St. Patrick’s Day ever was the one when D5 was born. My biggest baby, she wowed everyone with her fat little cheeks and thick black hair.

She was born in the Bicentennial year, 1976, (the red, white and blue year) on St. Patrick’s Day, (green day). But there is more! 

Mariah is the one above and between Mr. J and me.

By the time she was six months old, it was evident that her hair would be a beautiful red and she has one blue eye and one brown. Thus she is my colorful child and she has lived up to that name because she has added so much color to my life. Happy birthday, Mariah!

And I hope you all enjoy your green day. 

If you don’t have St. Patrick’s Day memories warming your heart 

make some for next year!

My Thanksgiving Memory Tree

I have decided that all holidays are like Christmas trees. These “holiday trees” exist only in your mind and are adorned not with decorations but with memories. For example, tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day and as it approaches I am remembering all the Thanksgiving days that have come before this one. I remember my childhood Thanksgivings when all my cousins (all 17 of us) gathered in Grandpa’s two bedroom home. I’m not sure how the adults decided who got the one spare bedroom but us kids all slept on the floor in the front room. I loved being near the widow seat and can still hear the giggling and whispered chatter that went on well into the wee morning hours.

Another ornament on my memory tree is the memory of Thanksgiving at my aunt’s small apartment when the roasted but un-carved turkey was placed on the table and to this day I swear it stood up and gobbled at me. (That’s why I’m a vegetarian!) I can remember Thanksgivings at my own home where my uncle teased me about having knot knees like my mom. I can remember going to my great aunt’s house after our own dinner to join in the Anderson celebration. I loved that because they always brought out the homemade root beer they were famous for making. The bubbles tickled my nose and if I concentrate very hard I can almost taste the rich yeastiness of the homemade brew even now.

In short, holidays give us a marker to hang memories on and tomorrow I will add another “ornament” to my Thanksgiving tree. I’m going to make it a good one and I hope your new Thanksgiving ornament will be a beautiful one, too!

Memorial Day Memories

Holidays are interesting in that they give us markers to hang memories on. Things happen all the time, but we can’t remember exactly when it happened. We remember it once in awhile, but the memories tend to fade. However, when something happens on a holiday every time that holiday comes around the event gets remembered.

I know Memorial Day is about remembering those who have passed on, especially our soldiers, but like any holiday, it also has memories of the things that happened on other Memorial Days. For me the memories include many outings with my parents to cemeteries. But the most significant Memorial Day event for me was 27 years ago. We were having a barbecue with friends at their home beside their swimming pool. We’d gotten the lunch ready and were gathered around the picnic table praying over the food when suddenly we heard a splash. I turned around to see my three-year old, D7, lying under ten feet of water at the bottom of the swimming pool.

A seventeen-year old son of our friends dove into the pool, swam to the deep end, and pulled D7 up. By then I had reached the pool and Lamar lifted the limp body out of the water to me. Her head and arms dangled from her body, I can still see her blue lips and face as if it just happened, and the way her eyes rolled in their sockets like doll eyes. Quickly I turned her over and pressed on her chest. Water gushed out of her, but as it did she started to breathe, turn pink, and revive. There hadn’t even been time to be scared. But afterward I trembled uncontrollably at the thought of what had just happened and kept thanking my Father in Heaven for the great blessing of preserving her life.

The interesting thing is that she is my only child that ever swam on a swimming team. She came home from school one day and announced that she had signed up for the high school team. I asked, “Don’t you have to know how to swim to be on the swimming team?” Without batting an eye she said, “The coach said he’d teach me.” And the coach did. She went on to win many ribbons and to qualify for the state tournament.

She is now a wife and mother of four beautiful children and I am still thanking my Heavenly Father for her and my other children.

Oh... one more thing. This last semester Lamar's son just happened to be in my Book of Mormon class. Life is interesting!

(Picture is of me and Carl with D7's family. She is taking the picture.)

Traveling Memory Lane

I went to lunch this week with a dear friend I’ve known since I was about three years old. Until we were nine and my parents moved, we were inseparable. I haven’t seen her in a long time, and it was so fun to visit and catch up on everything. Ever since our visit, I’ve been inundated with memories of the many things we did together—all of them warm wonderful experiences. I went on many trips with her and her family. Her parents were like second parents to me. We spent hours and hours together baking, making costumes out of crepe paper, swimming, putting on circuses, climbing trees, picnicking, and sailing cucumber boats down the irrigation ditches.

I can’t believe how wonderful the last few days have been because of all these memories. It made me realize that we need to spend more time thinking about the good things of life. We read the newspapers and hear the TV news which not only are depressing themselves, but they make us remember all the bad in our lives. Instead we need to place things around us and do things, like getting together with old friends, that constantly remind us of all the good in life.

Remembering the good is like putting gas in your car. It facilitates your travel down the road of life.