Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Tribute to Grandpa

The Well House


Crackle crackle crunch, crackle crunch!
“Just a few more feet and we’ll be there,” my Grandpa joyfully hollered.
As Grandpa spoke I looked up at him and there he stood tall and slender, with his beautiful curly and thick silver colored hair, which he is so well known for. Grandpas face soft, kind, gentle, although masculine with a white mustache. His outdoor attire this day consisted of his favorite pair of railroad conductor coveralls, cut off at the bottom because they were too long and he couldn’t be bothered with having them hemmed; his favorite short sleeved plaid button up shirt bearing stains which told the story of years of hard work and labor; his brown work shoes worn and patched, the laces broken and retied, they worked just fine for the job he needed them to do and he liked them just they were. Today we had a job to do and he was dressed and ready to go.
The browning mixture of autumn leaves beneath my tiny feet had not been trampled on for awhile. The anticipation of getting there was killing me. I was only four but going there meant an adventure. Just as I thought I couldn’t wait any longer, we were there. My small heart raced and turned with complete excitement, like a child on Christmas morning.
“Well, come on dear, we haven’t got all day,” Grandpa gently persuaded.
I had gone there once a week since the time I was able to walk, but even still my big blue eyes were wide with awe. We were finally there, at the Well House. There it stood all-alone amongst many color changing trees and song full birds that were preparing their trip south. I loved the way the misshapen trees seemed to drape comfortably over the roof. I liked to imagine we were in the middle of Red Riding Hood’s forest and the well house was a curious little friend I would pass on my way.
Three feet by five feet, the small pale green wooden building awkwardly stood; to me it was the mansion of all mansions. Built out of plywood and pine; the six inch boards ran vertical and a corrugated plastic roof was in place to protect its contents. I grabbed the dull silver colored doorknob with both hands trying my hardest to reach.
As I opened the door Grandpa said, “Get ready.”
Quickly obeying his orders, I grabbed the skinny white nylon rope and tied it to a small mint green weight. I knew exactly what I was doing, for I had done this every week with him.
“Grandpa, it’s ready to go,” I squeaked.
Grandpa gave me a warm smile and I knew it was okay to continue. As my small, chubby hands grasped the weight, I lowered it into the 7” diameter well hole, which stood up two and a half feet out of the ground. Checking the depth of the water had always been so much fun. I especially liked it when Grandpa was there. KURPLUNK! The weight hit the water.
“Now, my dear, let the rope go until it hits the bottom. Then we’ll be able to see how much water we’ve got.”
Carefully and surely I lowered the slippery nylon rope.
“Ha ha” Grandpa chuckled, “your hair ribbon seems to have fallen out. Look, I’ll hang your ribbon here and that way we’ll always remember this day,” he said as he hung the orange yarn hair ribbon on a rusty nail that stuck awkwardly out of the wall.
The moment the weight hit the bottom, I skillfully pulled it back up, checking to see where the dry portion of the rope met the wet portion of the rope.
“Grandpa, you can count how many feets of wet rope. I am not too good at it yet.”
When Grandpa was done I jumped down from my special sitting place inside the well house near the well hole and took Grandpas hand, closing the door gently and latching it behind me. Grandpa and I began to walk back to his and Grandma’s home. As Grandpa walked, I joyfully skipped beside him still clenching his hand. We walked along a beautiful leafy path, which ran parallel to a small creek laced with wild flowers. As we would walk, we would talk. Grandpa would tell me about his life when he was my age; I would tell him what it was like to be a four-year-old. I heard stories of growing up in New Mexico, living on a farm, getting a wagon for Christmas, and Old Shag on the pond. Grandpa would point out different wild flowers and give me the name an origin of those flowers; often he’s pick them out of the ground and put them in my hair; I was just happy to be there getting so much precious one-on-one time.
Psychologists often speak of “defining moments”. Moments in your life that defines who are or who you will become. For me these “moments” with Grandpa were some of the most positive influential defining moments I could have had. Looking back now at the well house and its great importance to me, I realize what an impact it had on my life and how the well house shelters me today from an ever changing and scary world. Going to the well house always made me feel important; the special job Grandpa gave me of tying the weight to the rope gave me such pride and confidence. The quality time and the conversations Grandpa and I shared were priceless and could never be replaced. He took interest in my thoughts and valued my dreams; I know my happiness was and still is on the forefront of his mind. At times when I feel as if the world is against me and others have been unkind, I look back on those small moments with Grandpa and I know without any doubt or hesitation that I am important, loved, and valued. I am the luckiest kid in the world to have been loved so much; Grandpa my forever friend, my hero.
A couple of years ago when visiting my Grandparents, Grandpa asked me to go on a walk with him. He took me down a beautiful leafy path laced with wild flowers next to a creek. At the end of the creek was the well. Grandpa opened the door and out of his pocket he handed me the mint green weight and with a smile asked me to check the water level. I looked above my head and there on a rusty nail was my hair ribbon, still there….

If You Really Knew Me!

I have been misjudged and for whatever reason I feel like I need to say something about it. Recently I was accused of being an insincere dater, someone who just "needs attention" and doesn't really date with purpose beyond that. It hurt to hear that because I can't think of anything further from the truth. Yes, I do date a lot, that is no secret; but I don't go with people I don't want to go out with and I certainly would never just go out with someone because I need attention or because I have nothing better to do. I have a very full and rich life, I have hobbies, interests, and friends. I don't need to date, I want to date. I date because I want to find someone, I want a family and companionship, I don't date to stroke my own ego. Dating is a means to an end.

Truth be known...I am scared to death of getting hurt. If you really knew me you'd know that I love easily, too easily for my own good. If you really knew me, you would know that I usually give up on relationships way before I should and it is always done out of fear. If you really knew me you would know that I really don't like to date more than one person at a time, but I do it out of fear. If you really knew me you would know that I just want to find someone I connect with who be man enough to tell me to knock it off and quit dating other people. If you really knew me you would know that I will never settle for less than all that I want. If you really knew me you would know that I have sooo much to give that I feel like I'm going to BURST! If you really knew me you would know that I want to find someone who is ready to be loved completely. If you really knew you would know that I am ready to be loved completely. If you really knew me you would know that I am well aware of myself and my strong personality and that I also know it will take a strong man to handle me. If you really knew me, you would know that I am willing to wait a long time if that's what it means. If you really knew me you would know that I would never intentionally hurt someone. If you really knew me you would know that I am sick of talking about this......

Monday, July 27, 2009

Dating

Dating....what can I really say about it. It is such a love hate thing for me. I love meeting new people, going on new adventures, making new friends, keeping busy, and adding funny dating stories to my already too long list of them. However, I hate the uncertainty of a possible new relationship, the insecurities that come along with the beginnings of dating someone new, the break-ups, the heartache, etc. The good must out weigh the bad otherwise I would quit doing it, but man it is getting old.

I am getting so sick of the "rules" and "games" of dating. Now, I know everyone on the planet claims to not play games (including myself) but....lets get real....everyone plays them. Don't even try to say you don't because you do and you know it! In your own little way you have games you play. Like, the "I'm not going to answer the phone so I can be mysterious" or "I'm going to pretend I don't know how to fix that broken appliance so that he can come over and do it for me." Whatever they are...you have them. Everyone also has an opinion on the way things should be and the way you should "work" a new relationship. BARF! I honestly think it is all hog wash! The most recent thing I have read lately was Steve Harvey's book Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man. He basically just simplifies it all and says that women need to be women and allow men to be men. You gotta let men profess, protect, and provide. I'll try it and let you know how it goes. Ha ha ha.

I am fortunate that I do date a lot. Sometimes I don't know if that is a good or bad thing. Some people look at it as a numbers game, if that is true then I must not be too lucky because I put lots of bets on the table and it hasn't paid out big yet. I won't stop trying though. People always ask me where I met the men (some act more like boys) that I go out with. Well, it's no secret that I am an Internet dater. So far I haven't really met any crazies...so far. I think I have a natural ability to weed out the weirdos before we even go out. However, I have met a variety of men and have had so much fun. Some of the men I have met have become dear friends. Some of them I wish I never met. Some of them I couldn't get enough of. Some of them were boring. Some of them were the most fun people I have ever met in my life. I have had a great time Internet dating and I highly recommend it.

Truth be known....As fun as dating is....I am sick of it. I am so sick of men not saying what they mean and not meaning what they say. I am sick of recently divorced men dating way before they are ready and me ending up sad and heartbroken because they came on to strong, thought they were ready and freaked themselves out! Fairly recently (a couple of months ago) I had my heart ripped out of my chest in one of these very situations (you can try and take a guess but the last handful of men I have dated have all been recently divorced, ug!) Anyway, he hurt me bad and I haven't felt that used or hurt in a long time. I'm partially to blame because I put way too much stock in this guy and defiantly shouldn't have, and I actually believed all the nice things he said were true. Silly me. He really wasn't ready for me and all I have to offer and to be honest he couldn't have appreciated me and what I have to give right now anyway. Now please DO NOT be mistaken, I am over this guy. It took a little bit, but really I am over him, I just don't know if I am over what he did. Ya know, the whole come on strong, tell me this is what he wants, and then dumping me flat on my behind. My point in even bringing all of this up at all is that I just have to keep trying. As bad as dating can hurt sometimes, I just have to get back on the horse. I have to keep accepting dates, keep allowing people to set me up, I just have to keep on keeping on. I never want my bad dating experiences turn me into a man hating grump. Thankfully I love men and as much as I want to hate them sometimes, I just can't bring myself to do it.

Honestly, for every bad experience I have I really have a million good ones. I just need to find someone who is on the same page I'm on and half the time I think the men I go out with aren't even reading the same book as me which makes it hard to get them on the same page! And why is it that a lot of us searching for love always complain that there is no one out there or that nobody is interested in us? I made a realization the other day, it's not that no one is interested in us, people are, it's just not who we want it to be. Why is it that the people I am interested in aren't interested in me and visa versa? Ug, it can be frustrating. I think it's funny that girls want to be swept off their feet but we are so picky about who can do the sweeping. For example, if a man you are interested in does something sweet like leaving flowers on your car, you are elated and couldn't be happier. But when someone you are not interested in does it, it can freak you right out. Go figure.

Sometimes people will tell me that I need to stop dating more than one man at a time; that men aren't going to take me serious until I settle down a little bit. They are probably right, but truth be known, I do it as a defense mechanism. I don't really want to try and juggle more than one at a time, I love monogamy, I love being in a relationship. But at this time I just can't risk focusing on one and then getting dropped, I don't like the big drop. You know what I would love though? I would love for a man (one I am interested in, I would NOT love this from a man I was not into) to just tell me once and for all that he wants to drop the other guys and just focus on him. I would love for a man to be interested enough that he is willing to put his pride aside, stick his neck out there and tell me that he is into me and wants to give it a go. But so far that only happens with guys I am not interested in, dang it!! OR a man will do it and then realize he isn't ready and then hearts end up broken, not fun!

I had an interesting experience the other day at the bank. I was waiting in a long line and the bank and this sweet grandpa behind me started chattin it up with me. He was asking me questions and when he found out that was single he started giving me his fatherly advice and counsel about life, love, and dating. I don't want to go into too many details about our conversation but I will say this.... I left there with a new resolve for my dating life. I realized that I have been quantity dating instead of quality dating. I was accepting dates from nearly everyone who asked, allowing myself to be set up with whoever, hanging out with men I know I would never pursue long term, and most of all I kept giving everyone the benefit-of-the-doubt! Not anymore. I decided that I am not going to date people who aren't ready, people who need "time" to get over a previous relationship, and most of all I am not going to waste anymore time!! After our conversation when I got home that night I deleted a lot phone numbers from my phone, friends from facebook, I basically did a "man purge". It felt so good and I really haven't been happier in months! I also have backed way off on the Internet dating and have taken a totally different approach. I used to think that I needed to be super proactive about dating, but with this new outlook I am putting in little to no effort and I love it!! They always say you find love when you aren't looking for it or you least expect it. We'll see what happens because right now I really couldn't care less. I'll keep you posted. :)

PS I posted this blog today 9/13/09 not sure why it has July's date....

Monday, June 22, 2009

Changes

There isn’t a whole lot I haven’t noticed about my body. I know I’m a little chubby and a little round. I know I have scars on my knees, scars on my head, and scars on hands; all battle wounds of growing up a tomboy and having all brothers. I know my eyes are a nice shade of blue and my hair is a chocolate brown. I have seen the effects on my feet of wearing high heels to work everyday. I haven’t failed to notice the freckles that poke-a-dot my face. I even see my hairy, hairy arms I inherited from my Portuguese mother. What about the rest of me?
After looking closer, deeper and really scrutinizing my body I noticed things, I have really never noticed before. For instance I have two perfectly round, small freckles on two of my toes; they exist on my right foot, one on the second toe and one of the third. I suppose I haven’t noticed before because they reside more on the sides of my toes, hidden. Stranger than freckles on my toes is the way my skin is aging already, which up until today I hadn’t really taken notice. The skin on my chest is beginning to show signs of too much time in the sun; the skin on my neck although still firm is beginning to slightly loosen and when I look surprised it takes just a second longer than I’d like for the visible signs of my surprise to disappear on my forehead. Smile lines are also slowly making their grand entrance into my world. My face isn’t old by any means really, but I can see that it is changing; I can see a noticeable difference between my face today and my face 10 years ago. And the biggest thing I see when I look in the mirror is, my Mother! I am slowing transforming, feature by feature, day by day, into a clone of my Mom. It’s funny how you wake up one day, and for me that day would be today, look in the mirror and see her starring back at you.
I think I have made enough discoveries for one day. I’m going to quit while I’m ahead. Lucky for me, I happen to like freckles; I believe they give me character. Even luckier for me, I have a beautiful Mother; it would be an honor as I age to transform into her image.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Divine Coincidence

Serendipity, coincidence, chance, luck, or maybe divine planning and intervention; with all the beauty of the earth could it all just be “combinations of matter run amok?” To see a new born baby take his first breath and let out his first cry, and the proud parents who can’t believe something so beautiful just happened to them; or a double rainbow appearing from almost nowhere after a downpour of rain; or the wings of a butterfly so beautifully colorful and perfectly painted. Could it all just be a fluke or could something higher, something divine have a hand in it all?
At one time or another all of us have been “in the right place at the right time”. There are those moments of near death on the highway, where if you had just been ten seconds further down the road, you too would be in a tangled mess of metal. There are moments when at the last second you change your mind about which restaurant to go to and you end up meeting the greatest friend you’ll ever have. And there are those moments where a simple act of grace will change a life forever. After I had lived a little, witnessed a little, and experienced a little it got harder and harder to believe that all of this could just be one big cosmic ball of luck. How could so many great things around me and in this world just be wonderful stokes of fortune?
My determination is that universe isn’t a stroke of fortune or luck. There is divine intervention that has a hand in it all. I refuse to believe that so many wonderful things are left to chance. Whether or not humans evolved from fish or from the rib of a man; whether or not there was a big boom or a seven day creation; I believe it was all instigated and determined by a higher power, who precisely created the universe to be something beautiful and majestic. No matter what you believe, I urge you to open your eyes wide and see the beauty that surrounds you.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Off My Chest

Written: October 2008
I have two gay brothers. Yes, you read that correctly; go back and re-read it if you need to see it again or maybe if you thought your eyes deceived you. Yes, two of my three brothers are gay and I love them! Today marks the day that the younger of my two brothers is fully “out of the closet;” he finally told Mom. The rest of us have known for awhile, but in an effort to respect his wishes and wait for him to share news with her that a second son is gay, she wasn’t told until today. This has been a journey for our family and it isn’t over yet. It will be an ongoing journey, an ongoing adjustment, an ongoing conversation, and an ongoing road that together we will travel. I am going to share with you a little bit of our story and my personal views and beliefs. You may agree, you may disagree, you may want to send me hate mail, or you may want to praise me. No matter how you feel, it won’t change how I feel.

I am writing this in response to the many letters that Daniel has received regarding homosexuality and same sex marriage. With all of this Prop 8 frenzy going on in California, homosexuality has been at the forefront of many peoples’ minds. The LDS church’s involvement with Proposition 8 (the initiative that would eliminate the right of same sex couples to marry) has caused many of our LDS friends to become very involved in passing this initiative. It saddens me that this has also caused a lot people to be very outspoken and downright offensive to Daniel and others homosexuals. Some things he has heard are others comparing him to a pedophile for being gay, or telling him that he’s going to hell for this “choice,” and so on. The protective big-sister in me is feeling like I need to stand up for him, have a voice, and say a thing or two. So here I go.

Daniel would tell you that he has known his whole life that he was gay. His first recollection of realizing his sexuality was as far back as seven years old. If he was writing this, he would tell you that it definitely wasn’t a “choice,” and he never chose to be homosexual. Looking back on his life, I can tell you that I too could recognize this from when he was very young. Nothing happened to Daniel when he was little; he wasn’t mistreated by a neighbor or babysitter, he wasn’t abused in any way… he was simply born this way. God created him this way.

Now I know many of you are shaking your heads and saying to yourself, “Laura, you’ve definitely got this all wrong. God would never create someone homosexual.” To those of you that would say that, I will say that God creates all of his children his way and for his reasons. He has created some of us to be predisposed to alcohol or drug addiction, or prone to anger, or really kind, or loud, or quiet, or bipolar, or depressed. What I am simply saying that God creates us the way he does, and for a reason. Now I am not going to pretend to be so intelligent that I could understand the inter workings of God’s mind and neither should you. Or why he has created us the way he has, but for what ever reason he has created each of us the way we are intentionally. With that being said God has created all of us, including our homosexual brothers and sisters.

Many of you have told Daniel through your letters and emails that “he couldn’t possibly be born this way,” I am here to tell one thing… you are wrong. I am not being a naive sister trying to find excuses for him or trying to make sense of this for me by saying he was born that way. Let me state this plain and simple: he was born this way, not only do you need to understand it, but more importantly accept it. With that being said, I know what you are thinking now—“Well it’s his choice to act on it or not.” Yes, you are right it is his choice. But let’s read that again and emphasize the “his choice” part. That is just it my friends it is his choice. Isn’t that what the gospel of Jesus Christ is all about—choice? I understand that many of you love Daniel and want what’s best for him. I am right there with you, and believe me; I have cried many tears and had many sleepless nights over this whole thing. I also understand that many of you think he should be choosing different, choosing to not act on these impulses. And again, believe me, I understand that too. However, let me share with you my experience about Daniel’s “coming out.”

Last February when I was officially told that Daniel was gay, all I did was cry. I cried for three weeks straight. Then one day I said to myself, “why am I crying?” I sat for a minute and thought about it. I knew I was crying for a reason, but what was it exactly? When it all boiled down, I was crying because I was worried about judgments that other people would make. I was worried that people would think he didn’t serve an honorable LDS mission, or that people would think less of him and our family. I was worried that people would be mean to him and say stupid and ignorant things to him. I was worried about the ignorance of people and them keeping their children away from him because they didn’t really understand homosexuality. I was worried that people would stop talking to him. I was worried what men would say, but what I never worried about was what God would say.

The reason that I never worried about that is because I trust God; I trust that he is omnipotent and that he knows all. I have faith and trust in the atonement of Jesus Christ and I know that Christ did what he did for all of us, not just for the “good ones” or the “straight ones.” I also know that God and Jesus Christ have a plan for each of us and that they certainly know a lot more than we do. They also know us better than we know ourselves and they know what is in our hearts. I also know that their love for Daniel and other homosexuals is just as great as it is for the entire human race. I also know that ultimately it isn’t my job to pass judgments; I’ll leave that up to God and Christ. Who is the greater sinner — the homosexual that is kind to his neighbor, loves others more than he loves himself or the so called religious guy next door that looks upon everyone else with total judgment and hate? The scriptures talk a lot about not judging others and loving our neighbors. Now I know you are thinking, “Well it’s because I do love Daniel that I said those things to him,” and all I have to say to that is—No! What many of you said was demeaning, absolutely unloving, and was said with total judgment. Daniel doesn’t need to be reminded what the church says about all of this. He served a mission, he is still in an LDS family, he knows. What he does need is to be reminded that he is loved unconditionally from friends, family, and other LDS members. Unconditional love means we love you anyway, we love you even though, we love you despite…we just plain love you. And quite frankly, if your love for Daniel or any other homosexual is conditional upon their sexual preference, it wasn’t sincere to begin with. Therefore, they didn’t need your love anyway. I am sorry to be so harsh, but as the protective and loving sister, someone has to say it.

During this whole time of Daniel coming out and of me trying to figure out where I stood with it all, I did a lot of praying. I remember lying on my living room couch, sobbing in prayer, crying to the Lord saying, “Lord, I stand where you stand. You tell me where you stand and I stand there too. I’m not sure what I am supposed to do or say or how I am supposed to react or feel. You just tell me and that is what I will do.” Then the most beautiful answer came. The Lord clearly and distinctively told me that my only job was to love Daniel (and others). He never told me to try and change his mind, he never told me to try and talk him out of it, he never told me to send him to therapy; all he told me to do was just to love him. Love him, how simple. By loving Daniel and not trying change him, I am actually doing more. Those of us that are trying to change other people, trying to talk them out of being gay are really just pushing them away. And what will be accomplished by simply pushing him away? Really… answer that for yourself. What good is it going to do? Would I rather have him hurt, offended, and closed to whatever I say? Or would I rather have him feel loved, supported, and cared for; still being in each others lives where I have more room to influence, teach, and love him? By reading this, you probably know my position and my answer to this question. What is yours?

What does it really mean to you to be a Christian? Does it mean you attend Sunday services weekly? Does it mean you pay your tithes and offerings? Does it mean that you help little old ladies cross the street? When you really think about it, what does it mean to you and how do you apply it in your daily life? Does being a Christian for you extend deeper than the surface? Does being a Christian mean you exhibit Christ like charity and love to all those around you? Or just charity to the ones that are easy for you to love? I am asking not to sound condescending or rude. I am only asking because sometimes I think we lose sight of what we are really trying to accomplish here. Is your need to be right more important than the need to love those around you? I understand that many of you (and myself included) have very strong convictions, but sometimes in our effort to be a ‘right fighter,’ we forget that we are dealing with and talking about people; real people who have feelings, emotions, desires, thoughts, experiences, etc. We can never know the true courage it takes for people to be authentic with themselves and with others, and to come out with the facts of their lives. I know that some of you are thinking, “Well, it takes true courage to suppress these tendencies and not act upon them.” Again, I understand where you are coming from and I agree with you. But also again that is not my choice or your choice, that is their choice and their choice only.

It may not appear this way, but I do value what many of you in California are trying to do with Prop 8, I really do. I respect your position and I respect how the church is trying to protect what they believe so strongly in. At the same time, I am sensitive to the people on the other side of it. If I lived in California and had to vote, I don’t think I would. For me and for my family, it is still extremely tender. We love our brothers and sons so much that we will not take a strong public stand on it, either way. My brothers know where I stand deep in my heart. I understand the importance of family, and I value my family and that is why I am sticking up for mine.

Right now people need to stand up for our brothers and sisters who are gay and simply love them unconditionally. Someone needs to stick up for them when people think they are helping and send hurtful emails, someone needs to say “hey you crossed the line.” Someone needs to tell them that God loves them just as much as he loves the Prophet, the Pope, Mother Teresa, and Gandhi. Someone needs to tell them that God has it all worked out and that we don’t know everything. Someone needs to be an advocate for them and by being an advocate it doesn’t mean you condone the behavior; it just means that you love the person. Someone needs to remind our gay brothers and sisters that those people who send hurtful emails just don’t fully understand the whole realm of it all. Someone needs to be willing to walk with them. I will be one of those people…stand up for my brothers, love them unconditionally, and walk by their side during easy and hard times.

Please don’t be mistaken, I love the gospel of Jesus Christ with all my heart. I know and I understand his teachings. I know what religion says about homosexuality and I know that I have a strong testimony of the scriptures and God’s word. The second great commandment is to “love thy neighbor as thyself.” My message is about love. That is all. Love. All I am asking from you, my friends, is to remember that they are people we love and to remember that while talking to them or about them. Do I wish things were different? Of course I do and Daniel knows that. But do I wish so badly for him to be different that I am willing to risk our relationship? I refuse to say something totally offensive in an effort to get my point across and push him away. It isn’t my place to judge him, it isn’t my place to try and change him; the only job God gave me was simply to love him.

Sincerely,


Laura Powell
Laura.thejourney@gmail.com

PS—Out of respect for my parents, please do not discuss this issue with them. They aren’t to the point in the journey where they are willing to discuss this publically. Mom’s concern at this point is that people are talking behind our backs, please don’t do that either. I personally welcome any and all comments you may have regarding our personal family matter.