happy birthday mom!

Thought I'd do a pictorial tribute to my charming mother...happy birthday mom. You are seriously the BEST mom we could ever ask for. Here are some of my favorite pics of my mom...in no particular order.

Mom and Tony on our wedding day. Below is mom with a little Peruvian baby when we did newborn training with the women from the local village. Children love mom as much as she loves them.
Almost every year we run the Race for the Cure for mom - Brian, Rei, Janelle, me, Trent.
Mom in her day job - Children's Librarian. Can you see her red rudolph nose and antlers?
Mom likes to surprise the grandkids and fly out on Halloween. A few years back, she was the Snow Princess.
Building sandcastles in So. Cal with Brixen, Sienna and Jack.
My personal favorite, mom and dad at Racquel's graduation (double masters degrees!). To be fair, we were about 2 hours early, but really, this is a Ken and Carolyn classic.
Mom and Dad with Grandma Mano. Three of my favorite people.
More favorite people...Mom with Grandpa Inouye and her siblings - Jay, Ron, Vicki, Gerry, Grandpa, Mom, Donna.
I grew up with mom making wedding cakes. She's officially retired now, but still does cakes for the nieces and nephews (Mary Ann's cake).

Last, but not least, mom and Auntie Gerry rockin out. This pretty much says it all. I have the funnest, coolest mom. She is talented, loved by SO many and amazing in more ways that I could ever say. I LOVE YOU MOM!!

In Memory of Tony Peers

February seems like a blur. A lot happened that I really should at least document so I don’t forget. I spent the better part of the month traveling – New York, California, High Point and a quick two-day trip to a cabin with my family. We also moved back into our newly remodeled home. How’s that for a month’s worth of activities.

But the event that I truly don’t want to forget is our dear friend Tony Peers’ funeral. Tony is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in December just before Christmas and she passed away at home with her children and husband around her on January 30th. We flew to California for her memorial and we’re so very glad we did. All five of her children spoke at the funeral – they are beautiful kids with so much faith. Her husband Steve wrote one of the most heart-wrenching talks (read by a niece). He said that after Tony was diagnosed and they knew her time would be short, they went to the temple. As they sat in the Celestial Room, Steve told her that seeing her enter the Celestial Room was the 3rd most beautiful vision he’ll ever see. Tony had a puzzled look on her face so he explained…

The first most beautiful vision he’s ever seen was the day they were married and Steve brought Tony into the Celestial Room. He then told her the second most beautiful will be when he passes away and sees Tony again and that today is the third most beautiful vision he’ll ever see.

See what I mean? Heart. Wrenching.

Tony’s best friend, Jana Rains also spoke. Her talk was so inspiring to me, that I emailed Jana for the talk. I’ve read it a few times, and if anyone out there is interested, it’s a beautiful read. Enjoy.

Tony’s Memorial
2/6/2010
We are all here today because, in one way or another, we’ve each been loved and touched and taught by Tony. Every person here has their own specific list of things they learned from her, but she and Steve asked me if I would share my list with you.

First, Tony was Tony by design. She may have been born with a buoyant nature, but as a child, she was shy and self-conscious. At an early age, however, she made the choice not to self protect, not to hide behind that barricade. She decided that the best defense was a good offense. Tony chose to practice a kind of fearless love. She had carefully determined that this particular selflessness and fearless love was a chief component of true joy. And so she deliberately fashioned her life to be a blessing to every single person she met. As a result, Tony had a million “best friends”. She knew the name and life history of her UPS man, her dry cleaner, her milk man and even the random people she met in parking lots.

This is because Tony chose Love over Fear and Love over self interest in every instance. She understood to her very core that the gospel of Jesus Christ is first and foremost a gospel of love and joy and peace. She understood that truly living that gospel is not the disciplined observance of a chore list of righteous deeds, but rather a simple change of the heart--turning it outwards . She also understood that there is tremendous power available to those who love without reservation and without thought of self.

Tony taught me that it is possible to let Love change my very nature and knowing this gives me tremendous hope and it gives me courage too.

Second, Tony believed in and practiced magic. As a natural cynic--I spend a lot of time sniping and wringing my hands--but Tony taught me that there is actual magic in optimism. She taught me that one of the governing principles of the universe is that heaven delights in delight.

When we were together, I was always astonished at the lengths people went to to help Tony do what she wanted to do. I came to understand that her delight was so infectious that other people just wanted in on it. People liked helping her. The universe liked helping her. I used to tease her that at any given moment at least six people were being ax murdered because their guardian angels were off helping Tony get to the airport on time.

She absolutely knew that life was delightful and that the whole universe was rooting for her success. And I watched heaven come through for Tony a thousand times in big ways and small. I really don’t think she believed in coincidence or happenstance--it was all magic. It was all miracle. And over the course of our friendship, she made me a true believer.

Tony wasn’t chained to facts of any kind and simply discarded those that didn’t suit her. She reinvented her history every time she told a story (and that made her a superb storyteller). I teased her all the time about the alternate dimension that the Peers family lived in, but I ultimately learned from Tony that her Rose Colored glasses were really corrective lenses.

Tony saw life in a much truer way than I. She understood the fact that reality is just a lot more organic and complex and fluid than our little peep-hole perceptions of it. She knew that the way to make magic happen was to expect it and to look for it and then be completely delighted when it happened.

Third, Tony taught me every important thing I know about real faith--about it’s nature and its power. She practiced a radical indifference to things that don’t matter and completely consecrated herself to those things that do. She made sure that she and God were always on the same page--that her will was aligned with his--then she did all she could possibly do and then let go and fully expected heaven to fill in where she fell short.

Tony’s faith also led her to understand the nature and worth of Dark Blessings--that just because something hurts or is hard or seems impossible to bear does not necessarily mean its not a blessing. Sometimes these dark blessings are really just the price we pay to become acquainted with God.

She also knew that some of the best blessings are bought at a price and that the greatest blessings can be purchased only with sacrifice. Tony has sacrificed what is absolutely most dear to her--precious time with her family. Her family has sacrificed what is absolutely most dear to them--the light of their home, their Tony.

I know for a fact that Tony would want me to tell her beloved family to look for big things. Her faith would tell you all to look for big things. Look for the blessings and miracles this heartache has bought you.


Lastly, Tony was the only person I’ve ever known well who had a pure heart. She was guileless. In all our escapades and travels and a thousand hours of conversation, I’ve never ever heard her say one unkind thing. How completely remarkable is that!

It wasn’t because she was pious or disciplined--it was because she simply could not see evil in anyone. Tony’s goodness was not something she put on like a new outfit--it was merely the manifestation of a pure heart.

In the Book of Matthew Christ says, “Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God”. And Tony saw God. She saw God everywhere. She saw him in every situation, in every circumstance, in every human face. In fact, we are all here today, because somehow Tony looked past all of our quirks and flaws and she saw God in each one of us. Tony saw God everywhere.

Tony knew the secret of a joyful life is faith, hope and charity. Her life here on earth was a testament to the fact that the secret works. I know for a fact that she viewed this next phase of her life as a tremendous adventure full of thrilling possibilities. I know that the angels are greeting her as one of their own and with as much enthusiasm and love and delight as all of her legions of friends feel for her and that she will fit right in. No one will have an easier adjustment to heaven than Tony.

Unfortunately, Tony’s taken her effervescence and delight with her and we are left with this huge hole in our hearts. But I think the best way to fill that hole--to honor Tony and the holiest way to remember her, is to fill our own lives the the faith, the hope and the fearless love that she modeled. When the standard bearer falls, it is incumbent upon those close to pick the flag up off the field and carry it forward.

At the end of the movie “Camelot”, King Arthur looks out over the sea and says, “There are billions of drops of water in the ocean, but only a few sparkle.” We were all lucky enough to know one of those, and to have had our hearts changed as a result.

Tony promised me that if I would do this, she would be here today--and really, where else would she be--all the people she loves are here. And so Tony, before you head off to parts unknown, to do whatever it is that you’ve been called to do--I just want to tell you thank you.

save the date

(warning: this post has several references to bodily functions, but I was really trying to capture the female wackiness I was experiencing. It might be a little early to post this, but I really think Amy is the only person who reads this, so I think our situation is safe.)

(originally written January 12, 2010 at around 3am)

I think I’m still in shock. After a week, my suspicions were confirmed today. We are pregnant.

For a week now, I’ve noticed little signs – waves of nausea that come and go at night. My boobs have been really sore and I even think they’re bigger. I feel really bloated and I pee a lot. That’s a lot of personal information to put in writing, but computers are made for editing down the road…

We took a couple of generic brand pregnancy tests – there was a faded “plus” sign – the vertical line was bright, but the horizontal line was faint and the instructions said this meant “inconclusive”. Then we splurged on the EPT brand (I’ve hit a new level of cheapness when I want to save money on a pregnancy test – but in my defense, they’re $20 for two EPT tests!…but I digress). The result was the same as the generic brand – bright vertical line, faint horizontal line, but a “plus” still the same. And EPT is much more confident about this grey area – a plus by any shade is still a plus.

Four faint positive pregnancy tests later, I couldn’t take the uncertainty and made an appointment for a pregnancy test. I remember hearing the word “positive”. I remember asking if she was sure. And I remember the word “definitely.” That’s when I went into shock.

Not that we don’t want children – we really do, but we weren’t prepared for this. After a year and a half of the Que Sera Sera method, we really didn’t think we would get pregnant. I was happily searching adoption, foster care and other options. Those routes were just as meaningful and fulfilling to me as having our own birth children.

Actually, my emotional status each month as my cycle approached was as unpredictable as it was just plain wacky. About a week before my period was due, I would start panicking that I was pregnant. I started getting scared about having a baby at age 44 – about whether this old body was up to the task, about sleep deprivation at a stage where I’ve FINALLY overcome my insomnia (well, about 75% of the time which is a VAST improvement), and so on.

And then my period would start and instead of being relieved, I would be sad. Sometimes very sad. Sometimes just a little. And then I’d go look up the dates of my next fertile opportunity. Then I would wonder, if I was this wacky sans pregnancy hormones, what kind of Jekyl and Hyde creature would emerge should the fertility gods smile upon us?

We will soon find out.

But after a brief denial stage, I am happy and excited…and scared and nervous. And man, am I peeing a lot.

p.s. save the date for September 17th!

disappointment

Last Sunday I taught my Mia Maid girls about trials. Personally, I thought it was a good lesson. We talked about the earthquake in Haiti, the impoverished family in Peru that we’re helping, and lots of other things. We made a list of different trials that people experience. We came up with 15 different trials including abuse, addiction, emotional disorders, natural disasters, divorce and family relationship problems, etc. Then I asked each of the girls to raise their hand if they knew one person who has experienced one of these trials. They kept their hands up as I raised the ante…two trials, three trials, four…

Every one of the girls had their hands up through 14 and some had their hands up for all 15 of the trials. Then I asked them how many of those trials they thought they might possibly go through. They said “all of them”.

But it wasn’t a sad lesson. In fact, when I played the devil’s advocate and asked them why Heavenly Father would let these things happen to them, one of them said, “suffering isn’t punishment, it’s a test”. I almost cried at the faith of these girls. Some of them have had some tough trials already in their young lives and the temptations they have to deal with are so much different than when I was their age.

So a few days later, I’m dealing with my own disappointment. It isn’t anywhere close to what those poor people in Haiti are suffering, but it has my head spinning and I’m struggling not to become angry. I received an email yesterday informing me that we aren’t going to be able to bring Adriel here to go to school. I don’t fully understand the reasons. All I understand is there is a young man who deserves everything the world has to offer and we can’t help him.

Part of me wants to fight. I think we could win. But in my prayers last night, when I said I would do whatever Heavenly Father wants me to, I meant it.

Instead of fighting to bring Adriel here, we are going to start working on getting him on a mission when he turns 19 in December. And that, I sincerely believe, is His will.

more or less....dos

So half a month into the new decade, I thought I’d weigh in on my goals.

I’m drinking more water and less caffeine (actually, as of last Sunday, I've upgraded to no caffeine)

I’m exercising more, but I’ve also gained weight (more on this later…)

I’m writing more. It’s tough writing a Don Taylor worthy posting each time on this blog, but I try. I’ve also written Chapter One on my novel. Tony really liked it. (Chapter Two is MUCH tougher than Chapter One.)

I baked a cheesecake (and it was yummy).

I’m reading my scriptures more (but have missed several days still), we’re going to the temple on Thursday (and in the past week, I’ve been praying a TON).

But it’s not all pretty. I still waste a ton of time and am so unorganized it feels unhealthy.

And the insomnia thing? It’s 4:15 am.

Half the Sky

I’m reading a fascinating book called “Half the Sky” by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn (thanks Lisa). I believe every woman, every person who is married to a woman or every person who born by a woman needs to read this book. But be forewarned, it will make you cry.

“Half the Sky” tells story after story about women, primarily in third world countries, who are abused, neglected, persecuted, raped, murdered, kidnapped and trafficked and left to die. Their belief is 107 MILLION women are missing from the earth today because they either die (as a baby, child, girl or woman from causes that are preventable such as maternal mortality), are murdered (women in many countries are considered expendable and replaceable), or are kidnapped and forced into sex slavery.

107 MILLION women

Sometimes I get completely overwhelmed with the amount of desperate need there is in the world. I want to feed orphans, educate children, house the homeless, bring water to the waterless, and heal the sick. I told Tony about a recently graduated college student who decided she would go to the Congo to see what she could do to help. She works in a fistula hospital and in addition to the medical assistance she’s able to give, has started a school for children and teaches skills to the women in the hospital. It made my child sponsorships and quilt making projects seem, well, worthless. It’s not worthless, but I want to do more. Tony listened to me and said, maybe after we pay off the remodel in a few years we can move to Africa.

Of all the humanitarian work I’m interested in, I realize the importance of focusing on women. I’ve spent a lot of time helping orphanages and drop-in centers which feed children. I still believe in those programs, but I also believe orphanages create orphans.

When you focus on helping a woman, you are not only preventing the birth of an orphan, but you will most likely help that woman’s children and the community. It’s been studied and proven over and over that when you educate/help a woman, the first thing she does is educate and care for her children. The best way to fight terrorism would be to educate people, primarily women (this is what Greg Mortensen focuses on in Three Cups of Tea).

What I love about this book is it also tells the stories about people who are doing something about it. And it tells about what we can do to help. There are lots of things every one of us can do. And here are a few of those things:

1. Read the book (or if you don’t have time, call me and I’ll tell you a story daily).
2. Sponsor a woman - I'll post the websites soon!
3. Donate.
4. Go on an expedition.
5. Care. Be an ambassador and spread the word.
Whatever you do, please don’t think about how terrible the state of women in third world countries is and do nothing. I haven’t yet decided my course of action, but I am touched by the stories and inspired by those who labor to change our world for the better. I have several thoughts and ideas – we’ll see where they take me.

And even though it isn’t much, I’ll continue making quilts even if it only means one more warm person in the world.

flashback friday

(note: I wrote this for Southern Cross' blog a few weeks ago. EVERY time I do laundry, I think about washing clothes in the dirty Urabamba River....here's the flashback... )

My sister's clothes dryer broke down this week and she's been having a hard time getting someone out to fix it. Normally, she tries to do at least one load a day. With 3 kids and a husband, you can imagine how her laundry is piling up. After spending almost 3 hours in the laundromat her first time, we decided she'd use our dryer.

I can't convince her to just drop off her dirty laundry and let me do both the washing and the drying so she washes a few loads, puts 2 loads of washed clothes in a hamper thing, loads them into her SUV and drives them down to me. I dry them, fold them and she picks them up when she drops off her next 2 loads of wet clothes.

It's quite a process, but we've got it down. And it's fun seeing my sister every couple of hours throughout a day. But it did make us wonder, "how did mom do it with SIX kids?"

But I still say doing laundry for a family of eight has nothing on the experiences I had doing laundry down in Peru. Have you ever done laundry for 30+ kids in a third-world country that doesn't have a washing machine, clothes dryer let alone RUNNING WATER?


Let me tell you, THAT is a process. I remember just getting all the kids together with the laundry bags and their laundry tubs was an exhausting task. Then we paraded down the hill about a mile carrying these heavy bags of clothes. Then we washed EACH piece of clothing one by one in freezing river water. The first time we didn't even have enough tubs or hand brushes to go around. And let me tell you, it goes a lot quicker when you have brushes. When you don't, you just hold fabric in each fist and rub the fabric together. The kids would laugh because my fingers were all cut up.
After we got the clothes all washed and rinsed in the (not so clean) river water, we twist and twist the clothes to get as much water out before we hauled the wet clothes back up the hill a mile. Did you know that wet clothes are MUCH heavier than dry clothes?

Then we'd hang the clothes out to dry for the day on a barb-wired fence which explained all the little holes in the kids' clothes.

So yes, it's a total pain for my sister to bring her wet clothes to me, but she's got nothing on those Peruvian kids.