It Gets Better

A friend of Ruby's passed away.  He lived in our neighborhood for awhile, went to church with us, held the door open for every student in seminary, was in Ruby's math class.  He was sixteen.  Almost seventeen.  At the funeral, his father said, "I wish Jacob had given himself a little more time."  He also expressed that none of Jacob's friends and family could have prevented the internal demons his son was wrestling with.

I am not naive or arrogant enough to suggest that depression and other horrendously powerful internal battles can be won with a kind word or a well-timed intervention.  (And I don't know this boy's particular situation.  I have just known and loved his family since before I can remember.)

Still, the high price that suicide exacts makes me want to put this out there:  That if things seem impossible, permanent, crushing, that's normal.  But it's also temporary. That's why the "It Gets Better" Campaign was started.  "It Gets Better" applies to every single thing teenagers go through.  If you feel hopeless, please reach out to me or someone like me; Ruby or someone like Ruby.  Both of us, and probably dozens of people around you, will take your problems upon ourselves and help you figure out how to be you, but less painfully.  There is always someone in your world who loves you desperately, unconditionally, and completely.  It might not seem like it. but it's true.

Just please don't leave us.

Black Tie

 And here are the pictures of our black tie evening. Each student can get 2 student tickets, so Scott and I each took one kid. Araceli and Xanthe turned out to be the lucky ones, and they both looked divine. Araceli borrowed a classic dress from Coco and I found a shoulder-pad-free black number in my closet.  Scott looked as dashing as ever in his suit. It wasn't exactly black tie attire, but we were far from the most casual concertgoers. It was quite an international crowd. I think Lang Lang has some groupies!

The Greg piano concerto is maybe my favorite piano concerto, and Lang Lang wrought every note into an exquisite masterpiece. One of the other pieces was Der Meistersinger, which I dont mind at all.  I told the girls, "That was so short! Some of Wagner's works are three days long!"  Well, I got a kick out of it, anyway.

Afterwards, there was a "gala" with food and dancing, and we stayed well into the night, enjoying the summery weather and the city. Xanthe was delightful, even with the promise of food looming. She loved it, in fact. I'm so happy to be looking into a future with more nights out on the town with that little cutie, as well as all the others. Just not the Ring Cycle, right kids?

Araceli looked like a Classical Goddess.

My good Shelter friend, Christine

There was butternut squash soup, polenta and maple syrup with pecans, pulled pork sliders and a vast array of desserts.  Araceli and Xanthe wanted to try all of them, so they would take a bite and then offer me the rest.  :0)  So I got to try lots of them, too.

Revenge of the Shoulder Pads

Scott and I took a couple of our kids to the Lang Lang performance with the Utah Symphony.  It was a black tie affair, so we trotted out Scott's tux and my beautiful Albert Nipon prom dress from 1989.  Oh, the humanity!  Take a look at these shoulder pads!  We were obviously serious when we wore these, but I can't imagine how we could have been.  My beloved prom dress was literally unwearable.  Even after I cut out the shoulder pads, the supporting fabric was enough to get me airborne if I turned to quickly.  Even Scott's tux was outfitted with shoulder pads, and the sleeves came down past his wrists.  Yet we thought we were such hot stuff back in the day.

Scott sent me a text the next day:  "I'm leaving you.  I thought I was marrying a woman with bigger shoulders.  False advertising."  Now I get why we didn't hear much about "modesty" in 1989.  Girls - and boys! - would never have exposed their shoulders, as skinny and narrow as they were.  I'm sure the narrow-shouldered among us were at the very bottom of the food chain.  If that was the case, then I must have been waaaay at the top, at least at Prom.

Happy Birthday, Grandma!

Scott's parents have been serving a mission at the LDS Conference Center during the last six or so semi-annual conferences.  Before that, they had a tradition to have everyone over for breakfast conference Sunday, and they've been eager to reinstate that tradition.  When we arrived Sunday morning, the house was filled with bakery smells and the counter was loaded with goodies.

And breakfast was only the first meal!  After watching the morning session of conference, Marlene set out another spread, this time for lunch.  She and Bruce also had pumpkins ready for the kids to decorate, and piles of sugar cookies for everyone to frost.  And did I mention that Bruce and Marlene hosted all the boys last night for dinner after the priesthood session?

Going home Sunday night, Ruby and I were talking about how effortless Marlene makes it all look.  As if two meals and limitless sugar cookies weren't enough, there was also a magnificent cake and a huge bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough.  Just in case.  And muffins and sweet breads, enough to send home a big plate with everyone.  You would think Marlene would be exhausted after all that, and maybe she is, but you wouldn't be able to tell.  During conference, the topic of mothers came up, and how someone jokingly said they married their spouse because his mother was so great.  All of us in-laws agreed that we hit the jackpot when we married into this family.

It's nourishing in every way to have Grandma and Grandpa's home as a place to find refuge.  I love seeing our kids relish their time there.  I know very well the balm of the grandparents' home.  I remember fondly the nights and days I spent with my grandparents, Bill and Golda, at their cozy farmhouse.  It was stuffed with treasures to explore, endless food to eat, soft, sweet dogs, feather beds piled high with quilts and ice cream in your special mug whenever you said the word.

And I remember Sunday nights at Opa and Nana's and how I lived for those evenings of companionship with my cousins, aunts and uncles.  Curling up in a chair to hear reports from each family about who was going where, and what each child was accomplishing, and what funny things had happened, that was the Sunday night sanctuary that girded me up for the week ahead.

So I'm grateful my kids have two sets of grandparents to provide that same comfort.  My parents' home is just steps away.  The kids know they'll find food and fun after church on Sunday, and anytime. They know someone will be there to give them a ride or lend them a skirt.  They know they can go anytime and stay as long as they want.

Grandma and Grandpa's door is always open, too.  Everyone knows that as soon as they walk in the door, they're home.  Home, with all the good things that word implies.  You're home; set down your worries.  You're home; everyone here loves you.  You're home; you're safe.  You're home; there is ham in the fridge.  ;)

Marlene, happy birthday!  We love you!

Eek! a Mouse!

Every time Freestone gets in the car after ballet, he tells me how much he loves it.  And after every Nutcracker rehearsal, he talks about how fun it is to be a mouse.  This weekend when I was at a game store in Salt Lake with the kid, I said, "Do you want to come to this store and play Friday Night Magic?"  He said, "No, these people are serious.  It's not like this is my life.  Magic is just something I play between ballet classes."  He's so funny!  I don't know what to think about this boy, but I love him.  And even if "Magic the Gathering" isn't his life, he still managed what I think is magic, and sold a card to the game store for a hundred and fifty dollars!  It was a super rare foil or something like that.  He got it out of a run of the mill pack, and waited until the exact day he could get the most money for it.  Now he carries around his hundred-dollar bill and his fifty-dollar bill, waving them around and talking about what cards he's going to buy.

It seriously kills me not to save that cash for oh, maybe a plane ticket to Hawaii or - I don't know - a place to stay in Waikiki, but that money is his.  I'm clearly not smart enough to sell small pieces of paper with bits of tin foil on them for profit.

To celebrate the sale, Free and I got a slice at Este Pizza. Delicious.  I'm probably addicted, and I've only been there once.  In fact, I've already started proselytizing.  After we ate, we immediately bought a slice for a homeless guy down the street because, well, this pizza has to be shared.  As we were walking to our car with a box of garlic knots for the other kids, a faint young man carrying a heavy pack shuffled right up to me and said, "Please..."

I handed him the box and said, "Garlic knots?"

He said, "Yes!!"  Poor kid was probably starving.  I don't know where he came from or where he was going, but he was obviously on a pilgrimage to something.  A place, and idea, a conviction, I don't know.  Maybe he's a kindred spirit of mine and just wants to see the world.  Wherever his sojourn takes him, I hope he has a mom somewhere praying for his safety.  I hope he has a mom who believes he is as infinitely incredible as I believe Freestone is.  And I hope she tells him.

Utah Youth

Did I already tell you about Araceli and Freestone going to Utah Youth Junior rehearsals?  Probably, because I was so looking forward to it.  Araceli is practicing more and trying to progress quickly on cello.  She sometimes has to practice late at night because ballet ends at 9:45, and some days she really hasn't been home before that either, or if she was, she was taking care of kids and doing homework.  So sometimes it's 10:30 and she gets tired and comes in my room and gazes at me like a sad little dog.  Then I give her a pep talk and/or drag myself into her room and help her with her pieces.

To me, orchestra is the reward for all that practicing.  I wish I could be playing with the kids, but it's fun to just be there with them.  This was their first rehearsal with UYJSO.  Araceli auditioned back in the spring, did poorly, and got placed in this sort of starter orchestra.  It's good, though, because they do a ton of sightreading.  It's like boot camp for symphony life.  Freestone auditioned after the first rehearsal.  What he really wanted to do was throw the audition, but he didn't have it in him to blow it.  So he got in, much to his dismay.  I decided to have him wait a year, though, because the repertoire they were doing was way over his head.  I know it was sightreading, and if he really loved it, I would encourage him to stay in, but he kinda doesn't love it, so I'll wait a year, hoping it will be more enjoyable once he has a year of school orchestra experience under his belt.

These are the best kids.  Scott and I are so lucky to have them.

There's a ballet studio next to the rehearsal room, and it has a fireplace.  How cozy would that be to have a blazing fire next to you in class?  Anyway, I took Araceli to rehearsal this morning for the 2nd time, and it was a rainy, beautiful fall day.  I strolled around the area, 13th East and 3rd South, and then sat in my car and listened to General Conference.  It was exhilarating to be in the city on a Saturday morning, and cozy to listen to meaningful words of counsel.  Man, there just aren't any drawbacks to this orchestra thing, are there?  ;)

Cupcake Wars

Araceli is the Beehive secretary at church, so she gets to help plan activities for their Wednesday night get-togethers.  This week, it was Cupcake Wars.  I love it when the kids ask me if we can host something.  The answer is always yes, because I love it.  This Wednesday, the girls filed in with their leaders and I got to listen for awhile from behind the scenes.  The things I learned as a fly on the wall were:  First, the girls have wonderful, wonderful leaders.  I already knew that, but man, these women get these crazy girls, and care about them.  They cater to each personality and draw each girl in, depending on her needs.

Second, the girls themselves are the cream of the crop.  Again, I already knew this, but listening to them talk and work together, it was apparent in their kindness.

Third, the Beehive girls are crazy.  Yes, we already knew this too.  It's universal, isn't it, that 12 and 13-year-old girls are prone to bouts of drama.  These girls, though, the drama is always a fit of giggles.  They are the sweetest, jut like the cupcakes they made.

These women are so fun and amazing.

Another positive to having people over is being forced to clean up messes like this one.  There seems to have been a spate of cello injuries this week!

Harvest Girl

Tizzy woke up in the morning and got herself dressed.  She found a black scarf that looked just like a little pencil skirt on her tiny frame.  I must say, she looked adorable.  We visited the Halloween decorations at Bowman's before going inside where Tizzy did all her shopping with the kid-sized carts they provide.  It's cute, but I've taken too many hits to the heel from those carts.

Fall is for relaxing, and for warm socks.  Thanks for the festive footwear, Michelle!  I love having warm feet more than almost anything else.  A fluffy pair of new, warm socks is the best indulgence, along with fresh flowers, a good book and a moment to enjoy all of the above.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

My parents somehow did everything right when they raised their kids.  I don't know how they did it, but I'm so thankful that they have always been so committed to their three "above-average children," as Garrison Keillor would say.  I don't know about me, but my two brothers are definitely above average.  And so are my parents.

My dad just had a birthday.  Let's not talk about how old he is, because the number seems too high for how fit and hardy Felshaw is.  He has the body and the mind of a 50-year-old!  We celebrated with an impromptu lunch at the new restaurant in Kaysville, Orlando's.  Scott is the one who always makes sure we're celebrating properly.  Thanks, Scott!  Tziporah and Rolayne were there for comic relief, and they delivered.  They're so fun to have around.

The camera only added 10 pounds to me.  It was nicer to my dad, and made him look 20 years younger.  No fair!

The night of Dad's birthday, there was sort of an open house soup and cake event at Coco and Bill's.  They're totally happy just to swing open their door and wait to see who comes.  I should learn a lesson from their style.  I'm more of a "Come over at 5:00 sharp" person, and then I'm peeved if you're two minutes late.  I'll have to work on that.

There are a lot of things I'll have to work on if I hope to ever be like my dad.  He's a student (and a master) of the gospel.  He is a paragon of professionalism at his work.  He's the first one to jump to a person's defense if they're being unfairly, or even fairly, maligned.  He doesn't hesitate when a kid needs a ride somewhere.  In fact, he left his own birthday celebration to take Ruby to ballet and pick up Freestone.  He is generous to a fault.  Recently, he gave me a fat envelope to give to someone close by, anonymously.  I hope he didn't write a note to go with it; his handwriting is a very distinctive, refined cursive.

Felshaw always told me about his handwriting that he had terrible penmanship in the 9th grade, so he worked on it until it was good.  All his life after that, his script has been beautiful.  That was just one example of Dad's determination to rise above, in every situation.  His personal code of conduct is impeccable.  He will never go against his personal morals.  You can count on that.  I admire my dad as much as I did back in 1980, when my dad had run another race, and I wrote in my diary, "My dad won the race! 64th place overall and 5th in his age group!"  Aren't we three kids lucky to have a dad that WINS every race?  We love you, Dad!

Nana's Party

Nana was so looking forward to having her 3 sons together for her birthday, along with some of the rest of us.  I was lucky enough to be able to crash the party long enough to talk to everyone and catch up.  This family of Nana and Opa's is the best.  I always feel the love exuding from my aunts, uncles and cousins.  There's never any animosity or strife.  Nana and Opa set a strong precedent for love and acceptance, and that legacy has only grown stronger over generations.  Whatever anyone does, whoever anyone decides to become, the response is enthusiasm.  It's a legacy Scott and I are consciously trying to preserve in our family.  We always want our children to know that above all, we accept them and love them.  No matter what, kids.  No matter what.  And we expect them to accept each other, too.  I always tell my kids that they should be nice to each other, since they're going to be best friends for life.  If they preserve their relationships in love, they can all gather together on my 99th birthday and genuinely be happy to see one another.  That will be the best birthday gift I could have.

Nana may have felt the same way.  She sat serenely while everyone talked, and I sensed that she was just completely content to have so many of her children together.  Either that, or she was wondering when everyone was going to leave!  Mom said they all stayed for four hours!  Nana has more energy at 99 than I have at 43!

My dad took about 200 pictures on burst shot, and I'm eating a brownie in 90% of them.  Opa would be proud!

Happy birthday, dear Nana!