Lost

Have you ever been lost? Wandering around worried and nervous about how you’re going to get out of the mess you just got yourself into? I can really relate to this feeling, I had one such feeling long ago. This story goes back to the many times Quinn and I went hiking in the mountains behind his house. When you’re a kid you don’t think ‘Hey what can I do today that will keep me out of trouble?’ If you were that kid, we probably weren’t childhood friends.

I remember that a lot of the older kids in Arimo liked to hike up to a place called Big Rock and part of the challenge was actually being able to find it. There wasn’t any special trail that led directly to Big Rock so before heading into the thick trees you had to estimate your own coordinates. Sometimes if you were off by your estimate then you could end up on the next hill. Knowing all of this, Quinn and I still decided that it was our turn to venture up and find Arimo’s famous Big Rock.

There are a lot of obstacles to make it up the mountain especially for an 8 year old. First off, your legs are never as long as you think they are so it takes about a million more steps to get up a mountain than the average teenager that made the trek. Second, finding your way around the Evan’s house was a task in itself because they would surely call your parents if they saw you that far away from home and the adventure would be finished before it really even began. Third, the many barbed wire fences.

After we had made it passed the Evan’s house and across the canal we were in the clear from at least any civilization that would destroy our hopes of finding our destination. We stood at the bottom of what seemed like the biggest mission we would ever take on. While we walked, there seemed to be a lot of distractions for an 8 year old. It seemed like our imaginations would get the best of us and every rock we came across had its own story. I remember we named some of them and others looked as though there could be caves and wonderment lying behind them in the mountain. Perched on some of the rocks were little rainbow belly lizards that we would try to catch. After plenty of walking we decided to take a break and do some recalculating.

Nothing ever had really looked familiar, even the rocks we had named and played on didn’t look familiar to us after circling them for a while. That feeling of lost hit us about right then, you know that feeling right? When you feel lost it’s like a dark cloud encircles you. Your feeling of hope begins to fade and panic sets in. You realize you’ve gotten yourself into a mess that you’re not sure you can even get out of. It’s one of the worst feelings you can find yourself experiencing.

My dad has taught me a lot of survival skills in my lifetime, but even all the wilderness skills didn’t stand up to one of the skills he taught me, the power of prayer. Kneeling down with my friend Quinn we pled for help to know which way we should head to get us out of our lost state. I remember we walked a little while longer and we saw a house just ahead of us. We knocked on the Jolley’s door and they gave Quinn and I a ride home.

Over the years Quinn and I continued to hike the hills and explore but we learned where we should go and where we shouldn’t just by experience and trial. I’ve had a lot of experiences where I’ve felt lost, thank goodness for my dad’s lesson of prayer. I’ve been able to recognize since I was a young kid that there is always someone that will help me out of the dark cloud and set me straight. If you’re ever wandering around worried and nervous about how you’re going to get out of the mess you’ve just gotten yourself into, knees are meant to fall on.

Ode To Mom

Originally this entry was a talk I gave in church, so there may be some rough spots in it. I wanted to get it posted today because of such a special day that it is. So here it is in all its rawness!

Qualities and lessons of my mom

You could probably think of some different qualities that your moms may have and I would suggest you write them down and show her sometime.

Fun – Fun was definitely one of the lessons my mom taught me. There were many times that my mom would bounce around the house listening to the Beach Boys, Billy Joel, or Elvis singing along with them. There were many times when she would play catch with me also and she wasn’t half bad.

Although there was plenty of fun there was also DISCIPLINE. - I was a little trouble maker when I was growing up and in my house spankings weren’t all that uncommon for certain offenses. Depending on the situation sometimes my mom would grab whatever was next to her and come at us. I remember running around outside my house in a circle over and over again trying to get away from my mom who was chasing me around with the fly swatter. When she caught me I looked her in the eye and said Mom! I am not a fly! After a minute her angry face melted away into a chuckle and let me off the hook. She told me later in life that she couldn’t punish me that day, because she thought I was pretty brave to stand up to her and also pretty hilarious to suggest that I didn’t deserve my punishment in that inhumane way.

Service – There are so many memories of things my mom has done for others and things she has done for my family that I couldn’t even begin to list them all.

Nurturing - Nurturing is a good way to describe my mom. From the many animals we had to the many neighbors in need. There have been so many years of seeing mom in the garden growing and nurturing. She’s always been good with the needle, not just on quilts and mending clothing but on other things as well. For example, the time the neighbor boy was over helping cut wood. My mom ended up sewing his hand back up after my brother accidently got it with the chainsaw. Another incident was when she sewed up a family friends face after a motorcycle accident. Neither had the money to go to the doctor. One of the greatest lessons in nurturing I’ve learned over the years from my mom is how she interacts with my nephews. I am the youngest of three and never really saw my mom around too many kids until my nephews came along. The way she teaches them and the ways that she shows them love will always stick with me.

Educated -Always reading up on doctrine and history of the church. She was our tour guide on our cross country trip to all of the church sites and national monuments. I went with four of my friends and even after all these years my friends still express how grateful they are to have my mom there every step of the way explaining what was significant about every little thing. Although she only went to part of beauty school and no further college education, she is one of the smartest people I know. Always has some information about anything even if it’s just a snippet.

My mom grew up without a whole lot. They were lucky to have meat on the table. She was raised in the old fashion kind of world. When I hear about the way a lot of my friends were raised and experiences they had compared to mine, I think I have come to the conclusion that I was raised in an older world as well. We got to hear a lot of funny old sayings growing up and hear some fun songs and nursery rhymes. She has always made the best out of all she has.

Sacrifice - My mom sacrificed a lot for us in big ways and in small ways also. I remember scrounging through her purse a lot growing up and yelling from the other room “mom can I have this five dollars in your wallet?” rarely would she ever say no. We didn’t have much when I was growing up but I never felt that way. My mom was talented in so many ways that she could stretch a dollar into 7 days of food for five. I always felt we had more than enough because of how prepared she has been her whole life.

Relationships - My mom and dad have worked really well together throughout their marriage. That’s not saying that they haven’t had their hard moments, but I can understand why they fell in love. My dad is one of a kind. He grew up out in the country and learned a lot of survival trades. A true boy scout at heart. There was a time in his life when he had to leave the country and live in the city out in the bay area in California. He and my mom ended up meeting that year at a stake dance. My mom recalled the first time she ever visited my dad at his apartment , she noticed that he was growing potatoes in old milk cartons and after that she knew he would be the one that would complete her life. They were married shortly after in the Oakland temple and moved back to Idaho together.

Love – The lessons of love from my mom came in many ways. Most by the ways she has shown me and by the way she has shown others around me. But there was one lesson above all the rest that I remember and I learned it in a way that is a bit unconventional. When I was younger I used to play baseball with the boys. My mom always attended my games and a lot of times she would make one of those big round coolers full of hot chocolate and bring them to our games to share with everyone. She loved being able to give and make people happy any way she could, she still does. I remember the one game that changed my life, the one that started the journey of this lesson in love. My mom used to sit right behind home plate during all of our games and she used to scream and shout louder than any other person. Sometimes it was embarrassing but now I look back on it all and loved that about her. I sometimes used to catch and on that night I remember that was my position. I remember looking back behind me and noticing that my mom had tears in her eyes and asking her what was wrong. She said she would tell me later. I always knew that when she had something to tell me later that it usually meant it was very serious. That was the day before she told us kids that she had cancer. I had never truly understood how much I loved her until I thought that I might lose her and praying every night that it should be me and not her. That was a long hard battle for our family but especially for her. She wasn’t able to do a lot of the things that she was always accustomed to. She had to let other people serve her rather than giving of herself. I learned a lot about love during that time, I learned how much she truly loved me and how much I truly loved her.

There’s a quote I found by Thomas S. Monson that states “A mother’s unqualified love approaches Christlike love.” I thought that was a pretty powerful statement, to think that the love our mothers have for us approaches Christlike love. I know there is no other love than a mother’s love and I have been blessed to have been able to feel of it. I hope to one day pass on the amazing lessons that my mom has given me and to live up to her legacy. I love you mom.

Matches

There are too many instances of fire in my life, I wouldn’t be able to include them all in this short story. Maybe I acquired this infatuation because we had a wood burning fireplace in the house I grew up in. Or maybe I acquired it because it was wrong for little kids to play with matches and I just wanted to be a dissenter. I have a history of rebellion. It’s like I have this crazed side of my brain sort of like Jekyll and Hyde. If you can keep this Jekyll and Hyde image in your head during this next story, it might paint a pretty picture. Or maybe it will just make you think I was a disturbed little kid. Either way, these circumstances for sure shaped a part of who I am.

I remember Quinn and I used to get gasoline out of the tank they had down by their shop. We used to fill a gallon ice cream bucket partially full and take it up to his burning pit. We torched all kind of things, we could have just lit the stuff on fire, but we had to make it fun by pouring gasoline on everything. Needless to say we had plenty of singed hairs and minor burns, but it was worth it to see the flame in all its majesty grow high and feel the powerful heat. Now that I think of it, maybe Quinn’s house was the place I grew this fascination with fire.

There were other places I liked to light fire. During the month of July there were always lots of fireworks, matches, and lighters to find. I remember Benjamin teaching a couple of us little kids how to make dynamite out of ground blooms. He always had the best fireworks! Fourth of July is still right up there as one of my favorite holidays. Family, friends, barbeques, being outside all day long, and watching fireworks at night what’s not to love about it? The bad thing about July is that everything starts to dry up and burn. It’s never fun to see the mountains catch fire, which I never did thank goodness!! But there was one instance of starting a fire when Shelley and I were in my parent’s chicken coop. There is no worldly reason why that place didn’t burn to the ground. I think magically it stopped burning. I don’t remember all of what happened there, but like I said it should have been toast. There were other structures that weren’t so lucky.

I remember one day I was with Scotty and Stevie wandering around town as we would do quite frequently. (I just realized these stories make my parents look really irresponsible, that wasn’t the case. Remember my rebellious nature? They probably thought I was collecting the eggs or picking rocks in the garden). We wandered into a little shed across the street from my house and to the side of where the Dahlkes used to live. We decided to make a campfire inside the shed so that we could roast marshmallows. It seemed logical at the time. The only problem was that we didn’t have any marshmallows and we had already started the fire. Scotty and I scrounged together what money we had and left Stevie in charge of the flames. Now, Stevie at the time was probably only about 5 or 6. Smart right?

We walked down the hill about a block away to the store and bought our large jet puft marshmallows and as we were walking back we could see smoke up ahead where the shed was. When the shed was insight, we saw a bunch of people from the town using hoses to put out the enormous fire that had engulfed this poor little building. It was an old shed, but nicely structured. It was a shame it ended up falling down. So there we were standing in the middle of the street, staring at the mess we had just gotten ourselves into and wondering where Stevie was! Seemed he had run off. I remember thinking to myself maybe we won’t get caught, quick come up with a story of where we were. Right then everyone looked at us holding the marshmallows in our hands and we knew we were done for.

Rebellion comes with consequence, but so does every other choice we make whether it be good or bad. Rebellion ALWAYS comes with BAD consequences. Trust me, I know. Sometimes we don’t always learn our lesson the first time, I know I didn’t. We ended up burning out another building the next year. I’ve had to deal with all sorts of consequences in my life, after a while my parents had to start getting creative. One thing is for sure though, in the moment, playing with fire can seem harmless and mesmerizing, but if you play with it for too long or become careless, you will eventually get burned. So you may want to ask yourself next time you’re faced with those temptations, are the roasted marshmallows really worth it?

Big Wheels

When I have an idea that makes sense in my head, you can guarantee I’m going to follow through with it. Some ideas take longer than others, but eventually I try to make it happen. Sometimes the ideas don’t quite turn out the way I plan them too, but no hurt in trying, right? I remember one such idea a long time ago.

In Arimo, two of the main roads merge into the highway that leads out to the high school. The people of the town call it the Y. From my house all the way around the Y is about two miles. There were a few ladies in the town when I was younger that would walk around the Y for exercise, my mom being one of them on occasion. One day I was with a few kids in the town, my memory escapes me as to who exactly was a part of this adventure, but there were about 4 or 5 of us. I remember we all had big wheels.

Big wheels are the tricycle looking things with of course a large wheel in the front made out of hard plastic. On sidewalk they would drive along quite smoothly, but if you were to try and drive on lose gravel or even the road it became a difficult ordeal. I’m not a hundred percent sure on the exact people who were involved in this and maybe someone can pipe in and help fill in the details, but I believe Quinn, Lisa, and the brothers Scotty and Stevie. I could be wrong. Anyways, I remember coming up with this fabulous idea to take a trip around the Y on these big wheels. It was a long journey, we were way too young to embark on it, but we found ourselves determined to make it.

So there we were pedaling our little hearts out in our little gang of big wheelers. We made it to Bonnie and Modell’s house and then we were stopped. Bonnie came outside and started getting after us for being so far away from home. It was about a mile away from where I lived and almost half way around the Y, but for a kid that was a heck of a lot of pedaling. Our moms were called and all my friends were grounded from me and probably each other. Except for Scotty and Stevie, I don’t think they ever were grounded for anything, they were always around town causing all kinds of mischief or driving their grandpa’s golf cart. Way too young for that as well.

This story reminds me of the quote The Journey on my facebook page. I won’t quote the whole thing on here but I’ll give you a piece of it. Just because we think that we have great ideas, doesn’t mean they always turn out the way we think they should. But don’t be afraid to make mistakes, to stumble and fall, because most of the time, the greatest rewards come from doing things that scare us the most. We can always pick ourselves back up from all our failures and eventually, we’ll get it right. With that said, I think one of these days I’m going to finish the Y on the big wheel. So Bonnie if you see me coming, just let me go.

The Goose

I have been contemplating over which story that would be worthy to begin this journey. My mind takes me back to a simple time, where kids run barefoot in the streets and enjoy eating peaches out of the jars your mom or grandma bottled over the years. I remember eating a lot of bottled fruits and vegetables growing up, my favorite were always the carrots my mom would bottle with just a little brown sugar. I grew up with a large garden with an assortment of all kinds of goodies. It was always fun as a kid to go out to the garden and eat the vegetables right off the plants, or pick the pie cherries right off the tree.

Vegetables were not the only things we raised. Cows, rabbits, cats, pigs, dogs, and poultry. Oh the poultry. My mom used to incubate and hatch our own chickens. Not just chickens but turkeys, ducks, and geese. Now as a kid this process became very interesting to me. I even learned how to candle the eggs myself and used it in a science fair at Mountain View Elementary (Go Cougars!). One summer my mom wanted to try and hatch some geese eggs, and hey if you have ever seen a goose egg you know it has to be a neat experience. Well the time came for it to hatch and there he was, eager as ever to get that shell off of him. Out came Squeaker. The infamous goose. This goose ended up being a big part of my life as silly as that sounds.

Shortly after Squeaker was born we had a rooster follow along the same path, we named him Shadow. Shadow got his name because he was quickly bonded to the goose and the goose was bonded to, you guessed it, me. These birds followed me everywhere. I remember one day, walking out to the ditch that ran along the front of our house and started playing in the water. Yes, for those of you who didn’t grow up in Arimo, we played in the ditches as kids. Our swimming pools. Kind of. Well the goose jumped right in and started swimming behind me. I remember looking at the little chick that was standing on the bank of the ditch and wanting to jump in to follow like he always did but seemed hesitant. So as any little kid would do, I grabbed that chicken and dropped him right into that water. That was the day I found out that chickens don’t swim. A few gargles and bubbles later I found the chick in the murky water and pulled him out. He was fine, no harm done.

Throughout the summer the birds got a little bigger but still stayed cute. Well the goose did, the chick was now becoming a weird teenage looking chicken and you know how ugly teenage chickens are. Eventually he got mixed in with the rest of the chickens and lost his shadowing quality. The goose and I stayed close for a while, I remember feeding him spinach out of the garden and thinking it was so cool that he would eat out of my hand. Some of my friends remember the goose. One time I had my friend Shelley spend the night. She brought her really cool Little Mermaid sleeping bag over and we slept in my parent’s camp trailer. Squeaker slept with us as well. When we woke up in the morning the goose had pooped all over Shelley’s favorite sleeping bag and still to this day reminds me of it.

Things change over the years even with poultry. You may have been asking yourself why was this the story I chose to begin with. Well I had some insight while thinking about this particular part of my life. I’ll get to that part in a minute because I wanted to tell you what happened to these birds over the years. You may not like me for telling this part or maybe you will not even think twice, but like I said I learned a lesson from all of it. Remember I mentioned earlier about Shadow getting mixed up with the other chickens after a while? He became like every other rooster in the coupe and he got eaten eventually. As for Squeaker, I remember him slowly forgetting who I was. I was less frequent in going to see him and after a while he started hissing and treating me as if I were a threat to him. He had forgotten me completely after a while. Squeaker ended up dying alone in the chicken pen a couple of years ago. My parents had given up the chickens when I was in high school, so he ended up living the last few years of his life in solitude. The goose story has always been a fun story to tell, usually I would leave off the end part but I thought it was necessary for the written version.

Squeaker and I’s relationship may seem a little odd, but I picked up on a couple of things pretty easily from my friendship with the goose. One of the points I wanted to share was that if you wait too long to rekindle the relationships you’ve let linger or have carelessly dismissed, you begin to lose something. You begin to forget who those people you used to love are. They may remind you of the times you’ve spent with each other, but you can easily become the stranger you never thought you would be. Another point to all the madness of this story and the stories to come is to reach out to those people who have helped me become who I am and say to them I still remember.