Hawaii!

I wish I could post a bunch of pics, but alas, I forgot my camera.

A New Job?

I applied for a new job today.

WHA?!

It's not in design. It's not in art. Here are some sample questions from the test I will have to take next month:

1. Multiply the numbers below:

1.5 x 6.3

A .945

B 9.45

C 94.5

D 945

2. In the set of numbers below, choose the number that

does not follow the pattern.

... 40, 140, 239, 340 ...

A 40

B 140

C 239

D 340

I hope I can find my thinking cap that day. I actually called to see if I could volunteer and they said,"we don't take volunteers - but we'll pay you." So I guess I'll do it that way. I want to be a Census Taker. Seriously. It's on my life passport just waiting for a stamp.

It's because of Indexing. Indexing is a volunteer effort going on all over the world through the LDS Church to digitize all of the old handwritten records - censuses, death records, marriage licenses, etc. so that people everywhere can search them (for free) and find their ancestors. I started doing it at the end of last summer and quickly became addicted. It's fascinating. Here are some of my favorite things I have come across:

A 40 year old woman with a 16 year old husband... with a 3 month old baby and somehow a 6 year old daughter... I'm pretty sure that was scandalous even in 1920.

Stars name their kids the craziest names. Meet Rob Lowe. He named his daughter Lowe Lowe.

This guy was born "At Sea"

And this is my favorite name: True Love Hall. Her Grandson was named Brownie.

C'mon. That is a good time, right? My addiction led me to a new calling in the ward: Indexing Czar. So now I have to motivate the people at church to love it as much as I do. Some people love it even more. We have indexed almost 65,000 names.

I write stories in my head about the names I index. Like the "boarders" who have secret affairs with the "servants" without the Head of the household even noticing. But what did he think would happen when they are all the same age living in such close quarters? Sometimes the stories are already there. I feel sad for the 30 year old black widow in Louisiana in 1920 with seven kids. None of them could read or write. When I get my flux capacitor fixed - I'm going back in time to help her. Poor thing.

It has gotten me thinking about this year's census and about the stories and crazy things that are happening RIGHT IN MY TOWN! I really want to know. So I know I'm crazy, but this summer I hope to be going door to door and writing everyone's information with really illegible, horrible handwriting so that future indexers will spend extra time scratching their heads and wondering about my little town.

(NO, Melanie, I won't get killed and plastered into a basement wall. What is wrong with your brain?)

The Hills

Hey. So...I don't know...you know, right? Maybe you don't. I'll fill you in.

We went to visit Marilyn on Friday and had another great chat with her family. They are great people. ("I have only just met you but I love you."a la UP) After we left they called us to tell us that she had passed away. Then my heart was broken. Not because I was close with Marilyn, but because I didn't want them to have to go through that. Too sad. Also, I couldn't help but "liken" the situation to myself. They had a beautiful collage of Marilyn and it was amazing how much she looked like my mom. Same hairstyles, same clothes - they grew up in the same time bubble. I couldn't help but think about what they must feel like. Then I was not ok. I couldn't live a minute without my Mom and right then I made her promise me that she would live forever. Her answer came via text and it was while she was driving, so I don't know how sincere she is. Shame on her. But I forgive her because I love her with all of me and then some.

I remembered the feelings I had when my own dad passed away from cancer when I was 17. Lexi came down into my room early one morning and simply said,"He's gone." It was as if the emotions Relief, Grief, Peace, Longing, Happiness, and Wonder were blended up for me and I drank them down. The result was ok-ness. Peace prevailed. People came over and awed that we were not crying. But the prayers of our friends and the love of a sorrowful Heavenly Father, whom I believe only took my Dad because He needed him more, buoyed us up and carried us around through that time. Hearing all the stories and seeing all the people whose lives Dad touched was uplifting and happy. Now I'm on the outside looking in - feeling the same way the people who watched us felt. I'm wondering how Marilyn's family will get by. They just will. What choice do they have? I hope they will have the same feelings and help we had.

I also remember when the prayers and thoughts and donuts and visitors slowed down and eventually stopped. It was a physical feeling. Like we were set back down on the ground. It taught me to try to keep those going through troubles in my thoughts long after the commotion dies down.

To clear my head and simultaneously torture myself, I went for a long run. I thought and thought and thought, not noticing what was going on around me. Suddenly, everything felt easier. I felt almost... good? I pulled out of my thoughts and looked around. I had just finished climbing a long, ugly hill and was on flat ground. I wanted to kiss it. "Thank you for being flat", I thought. I realized that I wouldn't care at all if the ground was flat if I hadn't just climbed that hill. I hate hills. They're the worst. But they sure make you grateful for the flat ground. I'm sorry that we have hills in our life. I've had a few big ones and some other more rolly ones. They weren't any fun but they made me stronger and more able to handle the ones that are inevitably coming up. They also made me grateful for the times when there aren't any and put into perspective the size of the ones I do face.

Mary Beth and Joe and their families have to face a giant hill. I wish I could give them a ride. I wish they didn't have to do it at all. I guess all I can do is keep praying that they'll have the strength and endurance they are going to need.

And maybe bring them some socks.

Charlie

This is the part of the blog where I share too much. I give too much away. But this is who am and this is what I do. Buckle up.

I love animals. All animals. Not in a PETA-no-meat-save-the-leafy-seadragon way but still. There is much love. My last hermit crab that the kids HAD to have but forgot about died last night and I can neither confirm nor deny shedding a tear. Hey - I cared for those little guys for almost three years. The one named Don'tDie ... ahem... did last week. And then the one with his shell painted like a creepy eyeball had his heart fail him. Maybe due to loneliness. Maybe because he had no water. I guess we'll never know. But I digress. Back to my love of animals. I had 174 dogs and 1,215 cats growing up. A few ferrets. Dozens of birds. Turtles. Fish. Lexi had a hamster - cat #807 ate him in the dryer. I loved them all. Even when we sent the kittens down the stairs on cookie sheets covered in bowls - it was out of love.

Anyway, one of my favorite things about my house is that it's surrounded by six acres of woods. I have deer, possums, raccoons, foxes, cardinals, bluejays and more. I give all my leftovers to them. I know I shouldn't - don't lecture me. It's freezing out there! I hate to think of them cold AND hungry. I have a white owl that hoots (hoos, really) outside my window at night. I love her/him. I love them all. And I have forced my kids to love them all as well. Our favorite is Charlie the rockchuck/marmot. He is huge and fat and adorable. I bet he weighs 35 lb. Not squirrel-sized - more like huge beaver-sized. Since the day we moved in, he has been hanging out in the front yard every day. We keep binoculars by the front windows so we can watch him use those little black hands hold things and see his huge belly spill over his feet not unlike a daddy penguin. (Penguins are soo soft. I have pet one. I love them, too.)

Every day, when we'd come home we'd pause to let him undulate back to his hideout before driving up to the garage. "Hi, Charlie!" Preslie and Mason would yell. (I know, I changed tenses - forgive). Then one fateful day (I hate fateful days), I was driving to the Y and I'm not sure how I knew because there wasn't a thump or sound, but I stopped and looked in the rearview and there was Charlie. Laying on the driveway. THe kids started screaming, "CHARLIE! CHARLIE!" as I ran out to him. He wasn't squished but he had a bloody nose. Did he run into the back wheel of the car? I have no idea. He was still breathing and I was a mess. I called jaymee crying my head off. I can't even think about it now. So sad. So, I pet him until he stopped breathing (he was SO SOFT!) and then went to the Y and sobbed to Krista that I couldn't stay because I hit Charlie. I went back home and called Mami because I was broken. Her kids loved him, too.

In the garage I found a shovel and as I walked out, there was Krista with her kids (that she pulled back out of kidcare RIGHT after signing them in), a shovel of her own and a bouquet of flowers. A minute later, Mami and her girls were here, too. I told Sienna to write something and that we'd have a funeral. I'm pretty sure Mami and Krista aren't big animal people but they pretended to be for my sake and I'll love them forever for it. I really was a mess. So we picked him up (so soft!) and carried him to our grave under the treehouse. Sienna read her poem:

Charlie the Magnificent Rockchuck

Charlie the Magnificent Rockchuck
When people see him they fall into a daze
And now his life is done,
But when I look back I am I amazed,
At the times he came into our yard.
And, I swear, I saw him smile.
I can't believe he's gone for good,
But I'll have to get through this trial.
He'd run back into his little hole,
Although we'd want him to stay.
But we all knew that
we would see him the next day.
We will remember him forever.
From our hearts he will not go.
And when I look into our yard
He's still there, I know.

When she finished, HUNDREDS of birds flew in and landed in the trees right above us. Mami suggested that each kid say something they liked about Charlie. Even with my deep love for him, I thought that was silly since we only ever watched him. The kids surprised me with their thoughtful answers. They said things like, "He was always there when we got home from school - kind of like he was waiting to see if we were ok." or "I like how he'd sit up and use his little hands to eat." and "He was so happy." He was happy. I don't know how we knew that, but he was. Mason said we could ask Heavenly Father to ask Grandpa Ron if he could take care of him. Camryn said a prayer. In it she said,"please bless that we won't always be as sad as we are right now" and "please take care of him in heaven until we can see him again". So sweet. When we all said amen, the birds got up all at once, flew around the tree in a circle and flew away. Seriously. It was an amazing sight. Like a military "fly-by".

I'm really sad still, but it gave me a lot of thoughts for my mind to nosh. First and foremost being the quality of my friends. They didn't mock me. They just dropped everything to "mourn with those who mourn". It touched me deeply. I also have pondered why Charlie made such an impact on us when we really didn't interact with him all that much. I've decided that my life is filled with Charlies. A Charlie is someone who makes a difference just by existing and being happy. I'm lucky to live in a semi-small town. I see many of the same people every day. Some are Charlies. There is a crossing guard down on State and Smiley who waves and smiles at EVERY car that drives by. Every time. My kids make me roll down the windows so he can see them wave back. Have I ever spoken to him? Nope. Would it impact me greatly if he passed away? Absolutely. Another one I thought of is Claude at the Y. (My kids call him Clog). He's a cute man that volunteers in the kidcare every Wednesday holding babies. It melts my heart. I don't have any babies for him to hold or know the babies he is holding, but I love him for it and I hope he lives forever.

I want to be a Charlie. It is one of my goals to really be part of my community even if it just means smiling at everyone I see. I can wave at the cars that don't hit me when I go running. I can take treats to the girls at sonic at Christmas. I want to help and be happy for the rest of my days so that just maybe I'll get my own "Charlie" bird fly-by.

A note from Dr. Stroud

In another strange "small-world" turn of events, Jaymeson is the oncologist for the former owner of our home. Marilyn - I hope I'm not violating some HIPAA law by mentioning her - is a most amazing woman. We met her the day we signed on the house and she was crying. She hugged us all and told us to take good care of the place. She told us it was made to hold millions of wonderful family memories. As you know, I want to hug my house everyday, and because of that, I feel I knew her well even though we had just met. This house is her and I love it with all of my heart, so of course I love her.

She has been battling cancer and came up an unexpected survivor. She beat incredible odds due to her faith and amazing attitude. She has inspired so many people. Unfortunately, she has been called to battle again. Jaymeson has been around patients and cancer for years. This is the first time I've really seen him pace and worry and care so very much. He loves Marilyn. He wrings his hands and wonders if there is more he can do or more he could have done and worries about her constantly. A couple days ago I caught him at his computer writing down his thoughts. I don't know if he was writing to her family or just getting it out of his system. I asked him if I could share them on here. He is a good man and a good doctor and I'm blessed to even know him - so blessed to be his wife. I'm amazed at how he is able to handle the sorrows that come with his occupation. (He becomes "partner" in a couple days!!) I want to remember this and also have his voice recorded here on the blog as well as my own.

If you’ll bear with me for just a moment, I’d like to share some thoughts about a wonderful person that I’ve recently come to know very well and feel like I’ve known forever. It is not by chance that we have come together in this life. Our Father in Heaven knows us well. He loves us and wants us to return to live with Him someday. And as such, we are brought down to this earth to gain physical bodies and to be tested and tried to see if we will remain faithful to God or forsake our faith in Him. We are all faced with trials and adversities in life, but it’s how we endure those tests of our faith that is important. In fact, learning to live happily and faithfully despite life’s unexpected difficulties, in my opinion, is one of the great lessons and purposes in life. Some of these trials can be very difficult, but I believe God will not give us any trial that he does not think we can handle. I see this as a testament to the strength of Marilyn as a person that God would allow her to go through so many trials in her life. She is a true survivor.

Of course a loving Heavenly Father would not leave us alone in our afflictions. We have family and friends to help us. Sometimes new friends are placed in our paths to help us through specific trials. I count myself blessed to be a part of Marilyn’s journey and I, too, believe this was not a coincidence.

With my wife recently going through her own battle with cancer, I learned from her a valuable lesson about survivorship. No matter what your trial, you can be a survivor or a victim. Even though we cannot choose our trials or the physical outcome of our trials, we can choose whether we become survivors or victims spiritually. A person like Marilyn who has fought valiantly and lost the physical battle with cancer can still be considered a survivor and even moreso in my book. A survivor, as my wife sees it, uses everything he or she has to come through to the other side of a trial with his or her spirit intact. Not everyone will survive physically. In fact the opposite is true. Everyone will not survive physically. We all pass through this life and at the end, leave our bodies behind and take that great step into the eternities. Our spirits survive even if our bodies don’t. We will see each other again. Of that, I am sure. So the ultimate test is how we spiritually endure the hardships we face in life.

I love the example of Job in the Bible who lost everything from his property to his children to his health. He was accused of sinning by his friends who turned against him. But he remained faithful, gave thanks, praised the Lord and said with all humility and sincerity, “For I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth.” Job was a true survivor. We cannot predict what trials will come in life, but if we are prepared spiritually and endure well the hardships we face, we will be remembered not for whether we win or lose the battle but how we spiritually endure.

Not long ago, I was reading in a sports magazine an article titled “The Greatest Game Ever Pitched”. It told of the game Harvey Haddix of the Pittsburgh Pirates pitched against the Milwaukee Braves on May 26, 1959. The story picks up in the bottom of the ninth with two outs. “The Pittsburgh Pirates left hander tugged at the bill of his black cap, glared at his catcher from underneath and nodded. No one said anything but everyone knew he was one out away from pitching the seventh perfect game in history. The 78^th pitch blew by the batter for the final out of the ninth inning. He had pitched nine perfect innings… but the game was not over. The score was still zero zero. He went on to pitch twelve perfect innings and then lost the game.” Sometimes, you can do everything even to perfection and still lose the battle. Though the game was lost, the title of the article stills says it all – “The Greatest Game Ever Pitched.”

Marilyn is a perfect example of someone who has lived her life in faith and happiness, despite the trials she faced. She did not have a why-me attitude but instead seemed to ask why not me. She looked for the small miracles in her life and has continued to thank God and praise Him for blessing her. I am truly grateful to have come to know Marilyn. I have never felt so close to a patient. Of course, I think of Marilyn as a good friend. I’m sad and frustrated to not be able to help Marilyn physically, but I’m happy to see another small miracle that she is not in pain. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your lives.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

I'm Sorry

I love this blog. I love blogging. I'm overwhelmed. Every time I think about posting I think about all of the stuff I haven't blogged about yet and get tired and run away and hide in the tree house. I need to finish the summer and Camryn's baptism and the most amazing night of my life which happened in Arizona this past summer. I need to blog about Charlie and his funeral. I need to mention that I retired from Bazzill Basics Paper and the bittersweetness of that. I have hundreds of pics. Thousands of words. The tree house is calling to me even now. But I think I'll just start. It'll be a big jumble chronologically, but a year is a year, right? So I'll get started... tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.

PROCRASTINATORS

The Leaders of Tomorrow