Hygge: The Danish Art of Living Well or How to make it though the Winter

Have you heard the word.... Hygge?  Last year a friend of mine gave me a book about the Danish art of  Living Well, or as I say,  "How to make it through the winter"!!  I have had seasonal depression since I can remember and every year I would go into a foggy funk.  It's like being trapped in the bottom of a sleeping bag and my brothers are holding the zipper shut and I can't get out!!  Anyway, I'm sure there are many of you who can relate.

Once I learned the concept of Hygge and tried it out last winter I was amazed and how it shifted my focus to what I had instead of what I had lost. i.e. summer, sun, outdoors, warmth , connections etc.   By definition the word means:  a quality of presence and an experience of togetherness. It is a feeling of being warm, safe, comforted and sheltered.  Hygge is an experience of self hood and communion with people and places that anchors and affirms us, gives us courage and consolation.  To Hygge is to invite intimacy and connection. It's a feeling of engagement and relatedness, of belonging to the moment and to each other. Hygge is a sense of abundance and contentment. Hygge is about beingnot having.

Henry David Thoreau wrote:  Happiness is like a butterfly: the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder."  I realize now that only in wanting summer to come back did the winter seem more oppressive and dark.  Only in thinking about what I didn't have it was  causing me to have pain associated with winter.

 In the book The Book of Hygge, the author, Louise Thompsen Brits,  says,  " We all Hygge:  gather around a table for a shared meal or beside a fire on a dark night, when we sit in the corner of our local cafe or wrap ourselves in a blanket at the end of a day on the beach.  Lying spoons, baking in a warm kitchen, bathing by candle light, being alone in bed with a hot water bottle and a good book these are all way so Hygge.    Hygge draws meaning from the fabric of ordinary living. It's a way of acknowledging the sacred in the secular, or giving something ordinary a special context, spirit and warmth and taking time to making it extraordinary."




Some of the topics that I've been reading about in the book are...

 1: Belonging  At the heart of hygge is an experience of belonging and a sense of being together.  We can be in the company of others or we can experience hygge by ourselves.   A circle of warmth is in visioned by an open fire encircled by family and friends on a dark night or people gathered under a lamp table  to share a meal- the light effortlessly holding the group all together.  Hygge is feeling anchored and unified in one place.

 2: Shelter 
The Danes enjoy the shelter of kinship and make time for the comfort and retreat of hygge.  The landscape of everyday life is dotted with temporary shelter from the pressures of work and responsibility, moment of relatedness built into each day- as simple as a quite bath, a midweek dinner with friends or a weekend morning in bed with the whole family.

 We can also shelter each other emotionally.  Emily Dickinson said,  " I felt it shelter to speak to you"    " A Chinese proverb says,  "It is in the shelter of each other that the people live"   Family togetherness and family activities can ground us to each other and helps to build lasting memories.

" Towns and cities in Denmark often have a low rise building the embrace of town squares, court yards and streets just wide enough to cross with ease.  Many Danish homes are built to respond to the ebb and flow of domestic life and to the changing season.  They invite the light but celebrate the dark, with fireplaces and areas built to enfold an comfort." Louise Thomas Brits 

  I have found that putting salt lamps and candles in the dark areas of our home help to lift and lighten my soul.  Home should be a place of refuse and coming home.  Thomas Moore said, " Home is an emotional state, a place in the imagination where feelings of security, belonging, placement, family, protection, memory and personal history abide."   Home is ideally a place of solace that sustains us.

3: Comfort and Wellbeing

What do you think of when you hear the word Comfort?  For me it takes me back to my childhood. I am  in our basement in my bed trying to fall asleep.  I see the crack of light through my door.  I knew this meant that my Dad and Mom were upstairs either sewing, watching tv, reading or some other activity.  All was safely gathered in for the night and we were all snug in our beds.  Now that I am an adult I think of reading a good book in my bed with a warming bag or taking a hot bath with some candle light near by. I think also of a clear mind and conscience that when I think of how I am with the world and with others I can be at peace.  There's comfort in that you know. 
Hygge involves comfort, cosiness, a sense of wellbeing, and a relaxed frame of mind.

Think of the senses that we seek comfort from. The scents, the textures, tastes, sights and sounds that speak to your heart and your body.  Just looking at the flower pot above and seeing the natural light cross its petals  fills me with joy.  Smelling a freshly cut lemon and sqeezing it into hot honey water calms and delights me all at the same time.  If you slow down to notice it, it will find you.  Wrapping a loved one or self in a fabulously organic soft blanket with texture warmth is Hygge. 
   "He who finds contentment is Rich"   




4: Simplicity

Hygge is as simple as lighting a candle to welcome someone home.  It's as simple as smelling your favorite smell, walking in a wonderland of magical frost, feeling a warm fire on your toes or having a conversation with an old friend.  There is a simple fidelity to the moments we experience that are Hygge.  My 14 yr old son walks into our front door.  He can't see me in the other room.  He calls out "Mom"  I respond with, " IN HERE,  what do you need?"  He says,  " Nothing, I just wanted to know where you were."  When I experienced this connection to him I thought Hygge.  Noticing it made it all the more special to me.  

 After I put my Christmas decoration away, I left the areas free and clear and simple.  The walls speak peace to me and the dusted furniture feels clean and new.  The simple ways I cook,clean and place  item my home are more purposeful and  comforting yet simple.  They give me freedom to think and grow.  

 5: Observance

The practice of Hygge keeps us alive to everyday enchantment.  It wasn't until I started looking for the magic that my mind shifted to enjoyment of winter rather than dread.  I could put on warm boots and walk in a snowstorm or when fog came into town I could grab my camera and make magical shots that I couldn't ever find in the summer months.  I  noticed the light when it came into my rooms via windows and the the shapes and shadows it created in my space.  I would rejoice when the light came as I knew it would not last long.

 In her book, Louise says " The Danish expression to hold twilight or watch it darken, describes the pleasure we take in pausing to observe as day slips into night. To stand at our window, wrapped in the half-dark and watch the day disappear behind the building opposite our own and the lights appear in the window around us is a moment t of hygge. " 

This past month I have purposefully had my camera charged and ready so I could watch the blue birds that magically appeared in winter.  Had I ever noticed that they are not there in other seasons?  No!   Watching the birds fly around as the sun comes up makes me excited to get up in the morning.  This usually is a hard thing in the winter but changing my focus to observance of something new is like traveling without leaving home.

6. Celebration

Hygge is the thread that runs through life in Denmark. Knotted into it are moments of celebration ritual and quiet epiphany. The spirit of celebration is a small moment within each of us that manifests itself throughout the year on an occasion when we choose to observe.  When people meet together in a moment of celebrated  specialness then  Hygge is present  and the larger the festivities the smaller the Hygge is noticed.  This may be why I love small gathering.  Intimate and cozy yet not large enough that the special noticing and connecting is lost.  Being together with just my family, all my children and their spouses was a rare treat.  It was intimate and cozy and I noticed so much because they were all people I dearly love.   They have gone and the year passes but I can keep those memories in my heart.   " We were together and that is all I remember"  unknown author

There is so much to learn about this Art.  You will just have to go read the book.  There are so many things to learn that I just can't share it all.  But, the end of the book says, " We pass on the spirit of hygge through the quality of our presence.   Ideas and values travel. Through Hygge, each one of us can know a sense of deeper contentment that will radiate out from us into a global web of  belonging  togetherness."  It has helped me to be grateful, connective and to savor those beautiful moments in time that most are too busy to examine.  Winter allows this time for me to slow down and to just be.

Sister Bishop

Sister Bishop

         

          When my husband was called to be a Bishop, I was greeting ward  members  after the  meeting  when a sister came up to me and gave me a hug and instead of congratulating me, she said very seriously, “ I am so sorry for you and I want to give you a hug with condolences.”  I was so stunned by her words that I didn’t have the thoughts as to what to say in response so I just smiled and said nothing and then she was gone. 

          I have thought about that incidence for 5 years and 9 months as I have had time to think about what I could have said to her in return.   What did she know that I did not?  How had life brought her to this point that she would seek me out and share her feelings?   Surely my kids must suffer because their father was not to be found in their days but for small moments of passing.  Maybe she meant that I would lose my health because of the stress and sleepless nights worrying about by situation or maybe she wanted to warn me about all the people in our ward that would call, text or phone my husband at all hours of the day or night.  Maybe he would change and not be the man I knew and loved?  Maybe he would stay up all night wrestling with issues that he could not express. Maybe it would ruin our marriage. I really did not know what she was talking about.  I really did not know why I should be consoled.  I really did not know what it meant to be the wife of an LDS Bishop.  

          I have had the unique experience to watch the life of a Bishop first hand, inside and out.  That is not saying I know everything. As it happened I actually know little if nothing.  I lost my name.  I was no longer introduced by my given name but as … “This is our Bishop’s wife or “Sister Bishop” as one High Priest loved to say.    He was not able to talk with me about most things that entail being a Bishop.  He could talk to other people but not me. He could talk to people outside our ward about issues but not to me.   All I knew was that he rarely came home for dinner, and he rarely had a spare moment to talk.  I saw his side of the bed empty most nights while falling asleep.  I saw his white shirts on the ironing board that were ever in need of   an iron and I was not very good to keep them up.   I saw his dinner that I had  left out on the counter, untouched by bedtime and beyond.  I saw him pass us on the street not far from our house on our way to soccer, dance or base ball etc., as he was coming home from work only to be a few minutes late to a meeting he had at the church.  I saw him texting in the early morning hours and late at night. I saw the light on downstairs knowing that he could not sleep but was kept up thinking of another.   I saw him sitting in his car sometimes for hours talking to someone but I was not meant to hear so had to keep my distance.  There were nights where I feared for his life as I hadn’t heard from him only to find out he had stopped on his way home to a house which he had been prompted.   

   At times, I wished that it could be me to feel of God’s power in such intensity but on the other hand, I knew I could not bear the load that he was asked to carry.  It was wisdom in him that I did not know.   Occasionally, I could see in his eyes that he wanted so much to share the stories of redemption, prodigals and finding, but he could only look at me and give me a big hug.   He had a great desire to help others access the atonement in their lives.  Even so,some did not come to his out stretched hand and he would mourn for them.  It was a great burden for him when some chose to not come unto Christ.  And when he saw progress in a journey he would rejoice but could not share.   He had to stay silent.   Maybe these were the times she spoke to warn me about, to feel sorry about.   I don’t think she ever really knew.   She had never been in my shoes.  All I know is what I saw and what was true for me.  

           So,  if she was facing me today and I could tell her the things in my heart maybe our encounter would be different…. maybe not.    But, this is what I would tell her…  It was all worth it!!!  Never before had he counseled our children or listened to their concerns in such  a way as this. t I saw the power of God working through him.  (I felt the power of God in our home even when he was not there.   I saw an exhausted  man rise up  and go to work again and again, giving all he had to give until the moon was high and we were all fast asleep.  I saw him more prayerful and in tune with the answers he found from the scriptures.  I saw increased joy in his life as he interacted with members of the ward and stake.  He had many friends, and people who loved him and depended on him.   I saw a man who  grew and matured through his experiences with the Savior.   I saw a man who lost track of time and day as he gave all he had to do His will.  I saw my children grow up knowing that their Father loved God.   They saw their Father selflessly serve his fellow men.     ( Mosiah 2:17)

           I have seen miracle and tender mercies  bless our family and ward members. (1 Nephi: 1:19)   I have had the privilege to read the Book of Mormon with my son late at night while waiting for Dad to come home.    I have heard a few ward members share with me gratitude for letting my husband serve them in their personal lives.  I have seen my husband grow in faith, power and testimony.  I have seen my husband have a personal relationship with his Savior.   I have seen him stand strong when members opposed his decisions and I have seen good people be unkind to him because he did what the Lord would have him do instead of what they would have him do.  I have seen his work opportunities increase and our ability to serve a mission in the future become a possibility.   I have seen my non-member boyfriend go from confusion and distrust to a servant of God, full of, faith, hope, charity and a surety that God lives and that He loves each one of us personally.   He knows as if he had seen the Savior’s  hand himself, that He lives and that He atoned for our sins and wants us to return to him through his Grace.  (Alma 34:9)  (2  Nephi  2: 26-27)  I have seen my companion become closer to the man God wants him to be. I have  witnessed a servant  who faithfully walked in the ways of Christ.  I saw the image of His countenance.     ( Alma 5: 14-16 ) 

          Maybe she wanted me to feel sorry for myself but I have not. At  times I felt tired and overwhelmed.  Nevertheless, I also experienced gratitude, humility and pride in my husband’s service. When he could not be with us, the Lord always provided. (D&C 84:88)   We have gained so much that I will forever be grateful that I married a man who has a pure heart and a willing hand.  So, to my friend who felt inclined to feel sorry for me and to the next Sister Bishop of our ward, I say….. Yes, there are times when you might feel lonely, invisible, overwhelmed and forgotten.   You might learn to press forward independently and in the shadows but this has given me more compassion and understanding for those who have endured it.  Yes, people will either talk to you because they think you know something or they will not talk to you because they think you know something.   You will be on the outside of most circles, yet closer to your family.   Yes, you will never really be alone with your husband while he is Bishop and yes, it’s important to let him keep his phone on all night even thought it might wake you up.  (Trust me)   He will get called away from ballgames, family parties, date nights, anniversary dinners and family projects.  Your vacations will never be free from that call or text that may be a life link to another soul.  He will  probably  be late for dinner and late to  almost every place you plan to  go.  He will be tired and not take care of himself.   He will need you to help him.   He will lose things like shoes and keys and misplace papers and books that he needs to read. You will go on afternoon walks without him.  You will eat most meals without him.  You will sometimes wonder if he even came home at all.  He will look at you and you may think, “Where has my husband gone?”  You will think, “Does he even know I’m here?” You will see tears in his eyes, and also yours but you will also feel God’s love in the times when you might not expect it.  You will question how ward members treat their Bishop. You will think, “If they only knew.    

This will be a time when you do not have a Bishop like everyone else but you will be the first priority of his heart but not of his hand.  You will find those couples who have served in your shoes, to be your best cheerleaders.  You will be in awe that they survived. You will be grateful for the sacrifice of his counselors who upheld him and sustained him so that he could care for the ones that had wandered.  You will admire and respect their wives who also live silently alongside you.  Your Bishop husband will see glimpses of Heaven and Hell.  You will see and feel that God never leaves him alone too long and that God’s work will get done in his way and in his time.  You will see him get immediate answers to his prays and you will be amazed!! (D&C 46:28, 30)  But then, you will see him wrestle for weeks to find confidence in the approval for God’s will.  You may find like I , that his most important goal will be to do the will of God no matter who will be unhappy with him, even you. This is his power and this is his peace.  (D&C 41: 3, 10-12)  You will see and feel and be able to access the power of the priesthood even when he is not available to you. I have witnessed this myself as I have called down the powers of heaven to bless a child in need or to protect our home from Satan’s influence.    It is all beautiful and it is all glorious and it is all part of Gods plan for him, for me……even for you.  (D&C 81:3-6) (D&C 1:39)

           It had been a privilege and an honor to serve next to a Judge in Israel, even thought for this time our lives were quite separate  in many  ways  yet close in spirit and purpose.  I will always be grateful that I could be called “Sister Bishop” even though I always felt like I didn’t really do very much to contribute to our ward.  So to the next  “Sister Bishop” of our ward, I come to you with open arms with a smile and a quiet voice of “Congratulation!"  and a touch of envy for you are embarking on a marvelous journey where your family, your marriage, your husband and  perhaps you too, will be changed. You will become better.  God keeps his promises to those who are faithful and you are in His hands.  So let the weeds come, and the house fall into disrepair and the windows stay dirty for a while longer  as your husband will be weeding a different type of garden and building a new and  improved house for another and he will be helping to wash clean the windows of a lost souls until they can see clearly for themselves. He will be working for our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ until his time is finished and if you ask me, I say to you, there is no better place for your husband to be! 


quote  " There is no position in the church that will bring a greater blessing to any man than the office of a bishop, if he will honor that office and be a real father to the flock over whom he is called to preside. Do not forget that,.....  But I want to say to you that there is no bishop, nor has there been a bishop in the church, who has given the time that the Lord expected him to give in looking after the flock and teaching his people and preparing them to do the work, that has not received one hundred percent of the blessings that he labored for, and they will extend to him through the ages of eternity." President George Albert Smith

The Color of Ice Cream for Jayna B. Quinn

The Colors of Ice Cream

By Lisa Gemperline

Dedicated to Jayna Brown Quinn on March 2, 2015

I will never forget you.

            We all have different stories to tell. We all have different ways we knew her.  A  sister, cousin, mother, father, son, daughter, coworker, colleague, friend and neighbor. Our views are all different yet we saw the same things. Her unconditional love, patience, laughter, creativity, cleverness and unstoppable spirit have changed our lives. We may not see her now but I still see and hear her everywhere I go.   I see her In the sea foam green glass vases that sit on my bathroom shelf when the sunlight shines right through them. I see her in  the paintings hanging on the walls in my home, The textured oil of our view from the balcony in Positano, Copper swirls of charcoal of my Baby Hanna Sleeping, brightly splattered watercolors of tiny Heather “Smelling the Wobbies” and a toddler Taylor “flying the leaves” and of Daniel fishing off a porch at our Cabin.  Every time I scrub a cookie sheet or dirty pan or fold my laundry, especially the whites.  I think to myself, “She would not approve!”   She would approve, however of the hugs and kisses that I give to littles everywhere.  I picture her holding each one of my babies in her arms loving them as she did her own.  I see her when my hubby laughs, for he was truly himself around her. 

             I see her when I pass locations in the car like the parks of Davis County where we spent many lunchtimes playing with Beau and Aria, all the fast food places we went for lunch on a spur of the moment like Arctic Circle, Olive Garden,  McDonalds or the likes of Arby’s.  I see her when I walk in our neighborhood. Look at the mountains or hear the creek babble.   I walk past her house and hear so much laughter.   Game playing, Cards, Phase ten, Rummy cube. Large tables with linen table clothes, tiny tea spoons and must have dishes.  A cozy movie watching coves where she has picked out a favorite movie for one of my kids to watch.  When I smell pumpkin I see her in her kitchen with perfectly positioned pie crusts ready for the “Libby can” recipe.  She always cut me a huge piece because she knew how much I loved it.   Whenever I am washing a pan or cookie sheet I see how hard she scrubs to get it cleaner than I ever would think of doing. I always think to myself, “Jayna would never approve” 

            When I see the color Cobalt blue I know she is there.  She loves that color- the color of the ocean and the sky in its most dramatic moments.   She fell in love with it when she went to Greece.  She painted with it in her art work to complement the other colors.  I never appreciated that color until she talked about it and now I look for it and have love for her when I see it in glass wear, plates, pottery and even on a bike.  She loved other colors too just like me.  We shared yellow as a favorite but loved all color.  It’s something we had in common.  To appreciate something and have someone understand is a joy.  She never missed a detail in life. She adored charming cottages, tiny figurines and music boxes that played haunting tunes. Everything  of beauty reminds me of her.  I can see Glowing Sunsets, colored umbrellas, small orange tugboats,  crocheted baby booties, pointed toes, cherry blossoms, dollops of cream, French bakeries, moss covered windows, red poppies in a vineyard or sparkling waterfalls in the gardens of  Tivoli.  She is there.

             I see her in all the b day gifts she has given to me.  These are impressive.  Not because they are gifts but because she has the ability to find the perfect one for me.   She knew me so well, and she would always keep her eyes peeled year round for the perfect gift.  When she would see something she liked she would yell, STOP!  She immediately knew it was for me and she would buy it on the spot. Steve knew better than to get in her way because she knew when things were right.   Sometimes she would just make the gift.  Whatever it was, if she wanted to give it as a gift, she would find a way to make it.  She made her Mom Sherry a Book for her b day.  She wrote it, illustrated it and yes, even made the book herself. It is exquisite in every detail.  I have a teacup ceramic geranium pot on my table, an adorable pink bunting doll from the 60's that was lost in my childhood   but now found, a 1970 orange and yellow daisy clock that still tells time, an antique waffle maker because she knew my dad used to make us waffles before he died, a treasure box to hold newborn booties, bonnets and silver spoons, a Kiddle doll on a trike, a collection of Winner the Pooh antique books and a beautiful orange silk Scarf.   A colorful pin cushion with Sumi dolls spinning round and round and so much more.

            I see her when I feel an adventure.  Hanging on for dear life while Steve drives on the  cliffs of the Amalfi Coast, crossing a dangerous out of control  street in Napoli, taking a 3 man motor boat on a mossy lake in the Bayou, exploring an underground cave on the Mediterranean sea,   sleeping in a haunted hotel where  Ulysses  S. Grant stayed, listening to insects and creatures of the swamps invade our dreams while we tried to sleep in  a shack on the Bayou,   screaming atop  the biggest coaster at Six Flags, traveling to foreign countries where we can’t read German, hiking southern Utah and driving around until we find an interesting road that hasn’t been explored yet.  Fishing at the Cabin, paddling down the Potomac or braving the dungeons of the Salem Witch trials.   Or just Adventure land at Disney where we sit and eat ice cream cones while watching the parade go by.   

            I see her through my camera lens.  She let me borrow her DSL camera and encouraged me to take some lessons.  I loved taking photos with her.  I truly feel like we saw the same things.  She would tell me what she saw or had noticed and share in the treasure she had found.  The images I would create would delight   her like they were her own.  Like it was her grandchild and she looked proudly on like a grandparent.  I loved when she would critique my photos.   She told me that if I grouped my photo graphs together tell a story then they would have more impact and I have done that ever since! She taught me about composition, design and color which greatly enriched my life bringing back things I had learned as a child and forgotten.   She had a way of teaching and praising all in the same sentence.  She truly saw beauty in things and people that others did not see.  She opened my eyes to so many beautiful and wonderful thoughts and feelings.  I treasure her advice.  Her knowledge of things astounded me as she seemed to know about everything.  . And if she didn’t, she just acted like she did.  She was always learning.   I   loved walking next to her in the Museums of Europe or sitting next to her in a concert as she always commented on the art, the history, the beauty, or the feelings that she felt. But mostly I loved being with her because of her joy in experiencing Art in any form.

              I see her as an Artist Extraordinaire painting in her studio with her splattered aprons and assortment of brushes. I see her setting her brushed down to mentor or talk with or encourage another artist no matter the age, no matter the form.  I see her unselfishly giving time and attention to my girl who needed her.   I see her meticulously piecing   together new boxes made of antique bits and pieces. I see her digging in the dirt of Idaho and repairing a flat tire in Texas, just to get dirt samples and smells of her ancestor’s lives.  I proudly see her Masters exhibit displayed in the building where I walked the halls 30 years ago as a young student.  I wish we had been friends then. My university experience would have been so different.     I see her walking across the stage of two universities. One where her son gets up and yells in a very loud voice that made me jump in my seat,   “That’s; l my Momma!”  She was an outstanding student and scholar who was inspiring to her peers   yet, annoyed by the younger students who had to keep up with her over achieving grades.  One of my kids was telling her about the really smart student who made the grading curve in class way too high and she said, “Oh, I hate people like that!”  I laughed right out loud and said,   “Jayna that was you!”   She lowered her head and smiled and said, “Oh, Yeah.”   I see her eating Mexican Food after the ceremonies.  She loves to eat out with family and friends.  I see an example of unconditional love for us all. 

              I hear her saying things to me like,  You are amazing,  You can do it,  You have the gift, You are worth being with, You are my friend.   I hear her say in humor,   “How trying”   “Don’t you worry yourself one little bit”,     “It was HIDEOUS!  With emphasis on the hid part.   “Come here and let me kiss your cheeks”    I hear her laughter everywhere!     I hear her in the movie theatre when it’s quiet or during a play when it’s the least bit funny, from the Kitchen when Anj is in there tormenting her, from the office where a Disney movie is playing in the background, her laugh was like therapy to me.  Like a spoon fun of sunshine going into my body.  She could always find something to be happy about. 

            I hear voice when she stops to talk to neighbors on the street or friends in the store and she gives them more time and energy that I have patience for.  In fact, one neighbor said that when she went to the Quinns   for some reason or another, that it was like a vacuum   sucking her in and her children were left to wonder where she had disappeared to.   I hear her voice kind to the clerks   lifting their loads with a smile or a compliment.  I hear her talking to shop keepers and carrying on a conversation fit for a friend.   One shop keeper in Texas had a beautiful shop with cream and white pillows, signs, quits and Knickknacks displayed in a lovely and beautiful fashion.   As Jayna visited with her and found out her tragic story, she mourned with and comforted a stranger that was now her friend. I wish we had a photo of that shop.  The sun was shining through the windows and the corrugated tin on the walls fascinated Jayna so much that the memory of it is so vivid.  

            I see her saying nothing in judgment.  I feel of her heart growing as she loved those that had been forgotten.  I see her buying Christmas Presents   and Graduation gifts for a lost boy who had no home.  I see her opening her front door in her white cotton duster to welcome in a little 8 year old boy who had tragically lost his father.  They were her own. Her door wide open to them all.   I see her door wide open for her children when they needed a place to land, to rest, to be loved.    I see her tears for the pain and loss of others .  I hear her words of non judgment, compassion   and  acceptance  as she seemed to wisely understand the needs of others .  I saw her quietly and kindly help friends and neighbors who had children that had struggled and she seemed to know exactly what to say and what to do and I just watched from a distance and was amazed.  

            Ok, yes, I can see her grumpy and sad at times.  It wasn’t like this mostly.   But it makes me smile to think of some of the things that annoyed her.   Having to wear shoes , or using hair spray was trying.  She did not like going to the grocery store or making dinner.   Waiting for our server when we were desperately hungry,   stranded  beneath the Paris airport while Steve and Anj tried to secure a rental car for the day but they had forgotten to do so, having to be told NO, we can’t go to Germany this year, or No, you can’t take an extra suitcase with you on the plane.  When her favorite flavor of gelato had just been “sold out” or her favorite movie was now gone from the theatre etc. The ending of the movie Somersby really made us mad.  If she had to miss an adventure because she was sick or didn’t have the funds or had to stay home from a party where she would see friends and family then she wasn’t happy.  Having   someone take her car which left her stranded or when she was not able to go to a Cory Connors Concert because she was too sick.  Even when she was in severe physical pain and when her emotional suffering was at its worst, she seemed to be able to laugh at something, say words to help another person, yet always bearing her trials with beauty and grace.

            So…. where do I stop? I could keep going on forever.  Every time I sit in a movie theatre or at a restaurant she is there.  There are so many memories, so many thoughts, sooooo many lessons to learn.   There will never be a day that I don’t see or hear her.  She is everywhere to me.   The sights and sounds and feelings that became a part of me while being with her are endless.  It’s something you can’t even put into words.  There was an easiness about it that was natural and eternal as if we had had this relationship before.  I could find myself when I was with her. I liked myself when I was with her.  She has been one to help me know why I was born.  She knew sooner than I did what her purposes were but I have a few years to catch up.  Her spirit was one that I wanted to be with.  She had a magnet that pulled me in.  She was always happy to see us.  She not only loved me but my entire family.  I see in my mind that she always had time for me ( except) when she had to be in a class at Weber and When she moved away to go to BYU)”  so Trying.”  If I called her or showed up on her doorstep, it didn’t matter what she was doing, (even if she was in bed) she would drop everything to be with me.  I don’t know of anyone else that would do that.  She didn’t even mind that I had little kids.  She would just come with us.   She swam with us in the pool. Not just wadding or bouncing but full out swimming and diving!  (Synchronized swimming at its best.) She told me that she didn’t care if anyone saw her in her bathing suit. She was not going to let other people spoil her fun.  I loved her for it.     She would come with us  to the canyon creeks to wade in the water, walk around Lagoon with a stroller , go to a park to watch the kids play, ride in the car to see where the fire was burning , go see a show,  watch a dance recital or band concert , it didn’t matter, we  just liked being together. 

            I see her laying in her bed with her yellow and blue striped comforter lying over her. She is bald and weak and Steve is tenderly taking care of her, like always.  We talked about her garden that she created in her back yard in Farmington.  I still see her sitting in the rocks and dirt making sure each is in its proper place.  The stone benches the dancing fountain Steve built her, the tree that she loved that hung in front of her kitchen window.  I asked her if she would have a garden like that in Heaven where she could meet her sister Jean Marie.  She said slowly and strained, “I can’t wait….. And then she paused.  I thought she was seeing her sister in the air as she was looking up. I thought she was thinking about how wonderful it would be to meet her again. It made me feel a little bit better.  I waited to see what she was going to say.  I said,   “Jayna,   what is it that you are waiting for?”   After a long pause, she finally said,   “I can’t wait for Steve to bring me that ice cream!”   We laughed.   I heard her humor and saw her eyes twinkle.  A week or so later, we are visiting again.   She is eating ice cream for one of the last times.  I have to spoon the ice cream in her mouth as she cannot use her arms.  I give her a drink of water out of a bent straw.   We talk about how much ice cream we have shared over the years.  She chuckles and smiles and as she takes another bite and says, “Yes, we probably ate too much ice cream but, pause, we made each other happy!”  Those are the last words I heard from her mouth.  I wasn’t sure if her affair was with the ice cream or if she meant that she and I had made each other happy but that is what I want to believe.

               A week or so later, I’m at her bedside again.  She is not eating ice cream today.  She is not eating anything.  She is not drinking.  She is just breathing.  I sat down next to her bed and took her hand.  I squeeze her hand but she doesn’t squeeze back.  Steve tells me that she can still hear me.  Tears run down my cheek.  She is breathing heavy.   Did she really know how I felt about her?    About us?   About the 4 of us?    About how much she was a part of who I am?  Could she see and hear me now?  I wondered.  I doubted.  I prayed for a tender mercy before I came.  Would we be allowed?    Her dear sweet  Mother came in and stood by us.  I didn’t think she could hear me so I started telling Sherry what I wanted Jayna to hear.  Jayna opened her eyes!  She looked at me.  We talked about a few adventures, and good times that I knew would please her.  We talked about how much we loved her and how much we had shared.  Her chin quivered a few times, a tear came to her eye.  She looked at me again.  She could not move but she knew.  She heard.  She saw.   She ever so faintly smiled at us.  She smiled 3 times that snowy Thursday afternoon.  She smiled for all of us.  I see that smile so full of love and longing to not leave us here on this earth.  It was a gift from God

            I can see her smiling.  I can see her laughing.  I can see her hugging loved ones gone before that are so dear to her.  I see her laughing and smiling at all the people for whom she opened the way.  I see her smiling at her family and laughing at their jokes. I see her laughing and smiling at all her dear friends and loved ones, as there are so many. I see her creating with colors and paint, with dirt and stardust, making beautiful creations that we can’t even imagine.   I  see .; her looking at me.  She is saying “Now Don’t you worry yourself one little bit!  I hear here say   “I love you, too!”    I see her healthy and happy.  I see her beating Anj in a foot race and laughing so hard she can’t talk because she always loved beating him at something.  No more pain, no more sickness, no more worries, no more tears.  Just smiles, laughter and hugging,   just dancing, flying and creating, just love and joy and peace.   And definitely  no more waiting for ice cream.   

Tiptoe Photo Collections by Lisa Gemperline: Urban Dancing

Tiptoe Photo Collections by Lisa Gemperline: Urban Dancing

Color Me A Rainbow

I just saw the movie, Inside Out.  I would recommend it for everyone!   It was so creative and Colorful and insightful.  I was reluctant to see it but it made me see how we all struggle with different things.  It's crazy how our memories fuel our emotions.  Last night I attended the ballet recital with Hanna Jane Gemperline​.  I was not expecting the flood of emotion that came with the memory of sitting next to Jayna Brown Quinn​ for the last 16 Plus years.  With Cori Connors​ singing, little girls dancing and  the theme being "Color me a Rainbow," it was as if it was made just for her. She was my family that could not come to see my girls dance! She was my friend who wanted to come.  She commented and giggled through all the performances with delight and she even drove to Texas to see the recital they were in when we moved there. It was a place we shared together. I happened to have a spare seat next to me and I felt her there more than ever. I had worn her scarf that she bought in Santorini when we were there,  around my neck. and I cried through the entire first half.!   It's times like these, that have her stamp of approval that I miss her the most.  "She would have loved it!"  She would have had wonderful and artistic thoughts that she would have whispered to me.  I miss that.

 Some things are just not the same and last night was one of them.  It was a bitter sweet experience that I understand is part of the process of loving someone enough that the pain is intense when they are gone.  I now  understand from watching this movie today that Pain and Joy cant exist without each other.  We all fear, judge, get angry and confused but its sadness and joy that bring us together to help one another.  Jayna has taught me so much about these things and she allowed me to have them all. She never needed me to be one or the other and I need to allow others this same gift. I hear her validations.  They keep me going. I see her in Art and Color and Laughter.  I feel her when I most miss her by the memories and emotions that I still get to feel in this existence.  Just like a beautifully performed danced, there is a beginning and an end.  The feelings left with us are touched by our memory and experiences we allow ourselves to be vulnerable to.  If we had never chosen to dance then we would miss the opportunities for true JOY.  She loved us well.  We feel it still.

Have Courage & Be Kind

  " O then, is not this real?  I say unto  you, Yea, because it is light: and whatsoever is light, is good, because it is discernible, therefore ye must know that it is good:  Alma 32:36

I learned something while staying on Jim and Cathy's ranch a few weeks ago.  I learned just how intuitive horses can be.They can read a persons emotional, physical and probably more than anything, spiritual state.  It was fun to see how quickly Diamond and Hanna related to each other. Diamond liked Hanna right away and the fact that Cathy felt comfortable letting Hanna ride her horse was very telling. They were a good match. I learned that horses want to do nothing more than to please. They don't get jealous, angry, disappointed, mean or sad. They just want to please and will do so even to the point of  being abuse.  They love unconditionally. They can heal hearts and minds.  Horses can discern what humans need and they can help us heal.

It would be so great if we could see or know how to help every person that we came in contact with. Our judgments may not always be correct.  We may think one thing while someone is feeling another.  We may say or do something that is contrary to what the person needs. We might even not even notice that someone is hurting or in need of love.  Our senses may be so focused on ourselves that we can't see or feel the needs of others. This is something that we need to develop as humans but I think horses were given this special gift from God to help us.  If we can find the courage to be kind even when we are hurting or when we have been offended then we bring ourselves up to a higher capacity to love unconditionally as horses do.

 I guess that's why animals are such good companions. They don't judge, they freely forgive, they don't look to offend and they overlook faults. They live to serve us and we can live to serve each other. They can carry us through our hardest times. We need courage to face the trials that come into our lives. Sometimes it take courage to be kind when we are not receiving kindness but quite the opposite.  " When someone  is nasty or treats you poorly don't take it personally. It says nothing about  you, but a lot about them."     Michael Josephson    It takes courage to stand alone when it is required.  God gave us the natural man tendencies  so that we might learn and change and become more like him. We are his hands and we show our love to him by how we treat others. Putting our pride aside and looking at truly loving those who treat us badly can heal and mend hearts.
 


 "And behold, I tell you these things that ye may learn wisdom; that ye may learn that when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God."   Mosiah 2:17 

The Lost Skirt

The Lost Skirt

April 17, 2015

I can count on my fingers the "Big" miracles that I've had in my life.  Most of them have been small and subtle ways that the Lord lets me know he is there.  I was struggling with faith and how I could actively use it in my life.  How could I "Come unto Him," if I didn't know what kind of action to take.  I was struggling with a particular issue in my life. I didn't like the pain and the path that I was asked to follow.  I wanted the pain to go away when I prayed and when I read the scriptures but it was still there.  I asked my husband how I could access the comfort and guidance of my Savior and he told me to count my blessing!

So, I had been praying with real intent but maybe for the wrong things. I wanted to take away pain and sorrow and that may not be what God wants for me.  I prayed this very day and thanks God for all my blessings. I felt better knows how generous He was to me in so many areas of my life.  I also prayed very specifically to have him to be with me all day.  I was worried about some upcoming events that day and I knew that I could not handle things by myself without getting all confused and bent out of shape in my mind.  I just asked “Please be by my side today so that I can handle the situations that may arise and I may deal with them the way you would want me to."   Basically that was it in a nutshell.

Well, the task for the day was to go the High School and get a skirt from the Dance Teacher so that I could make a few more skirts for the girls who's skirts were definitely too short.  I had seen the dress rehearsal the day before and I was uncomfortable watching them dance on stage with such tiny skirts covering them. I called the teacher and she agreed that a change would be good and actually they had talked about it and somebody had volunteered to do it, but nonetheless, it did not get done and the concert opening night was the next night.

I thought finding fabric to match the existing skirt would be easy.  I went to two fabric stores in Bountiful and asked every clerk available if they could match my fabric.  I came up short.  I then decided to drive to Layton to check Hancock fabrics.  I didn't have much time to drive further distances because I needed to get sewing! I had a friend Amy who was waiting at her house with scissors, newspapers and a sewing machine so we could hurry and get them sewn.  Well, after searching at Hancock fabrics with a clerk she told me that they just didn't have what I was looking for but that I should go look in the clearance fabric before I left, just to be sure.  I walked to the back of the store and found one bold of fabric that was the exact color that I needed.  I started to get hopeful that this would not be too difficult.

I took the fabric to the cutting counter.  The woman asked how much I needed and I simply didn't know.  I could make 4 skirts that were longer but then the rest would still be shorter. The fabric was not as sheer as the original and so I thought I had better make one for everyone.  The clerk was trying to tell me how to cut out the skirts with three inches added and then how to flip it to get more out of the fabric etc.  By this time my head was spinning and nothing she said made sense.  I told her that I was just going to cut them out, sew on a ribbon for wrapping the skirt around and that I would think about finishing them at a later date.  She then informed me that all the skirts would need serging if I used this fabric and that they would not be usable after one performance!  I felt sick.  I needed the color of the fabric but I didn't have a serger.

I sent an email to all the dance moms to see if someone had a serger and only one replied. She had access to one but could not help me because she was babysitting a lot of kids that day.  I asked Amy and she said she had a friend that could bring one over for us but neither of us knew how to use it.  And then the thread!  I would have to buy thread and I had no idea what kind of thread goes in a serger or how to put the thread in the serger etc etc.  The clerk could see I was getting overwhelmed and she asked me why I was the one doing this project if I didn't have the means or knowledge by which to do it.  (Well, that was what she was probably thinking)  I could tell she was getting impatient with me because I couldn't make a decision because I honestly didn't know what would be best.

Then, a woman with blonde shoulder length hair who was wearing a blue sweater and black glasses had been standing behind me at the cutting table. She had heard the whole story as to why I couldn't let my daughter wear the current skirt. She was an example of modesty and I just couldn't feel right about seeing her up there compromising her integrity. I had to stand up for what was right.  Well, this woman went and got a spool of thread that matched my fabric and she said, " If you buy 4 of these than I will serg them all for you!" I laughed out loud and said, “I can’t ask you to do that!  That is just crazy!"  She said, “Well, those girls simply can not wear those skirts!"  She was an angel from Heaven.  I knew I could not produce the skirts on my own so I agreed to pay for all the supplies and then I followed this Good Samaritan to her home in Syracuse almost to Antelope Island.  We went into her house; we introduced ourselves to each other. Her name was Paula.  She had everything set up in her basement to cut and serg 8 skirts.  I cut them out while she serged.  I did have to run to the store to get more ribbon for the ties but we had them all done under three hours. She said, “I have never sewn this fast and I feel like I  have had help today."

Paula and I visited and found out we had much in common. We both had French horn players about the same age who will be at BYU this fall.  He daughter was gluten intolerant just like my daughter Heather and she had a son who was smart and liked good food like my Taylor.  She had daughters too who had to find modest prom dresses which I related to and we didn't seem to run out of things to talk about. Before I took the skirts to leave, I told her that I didn't know too many people that would drop everything and help a stranger.  She told me that we need to look out for each other because "The three Nephites don't sew"

  As she was cleaning up the scraps & threads and ribbons,  she found a ninth skirt that had been serged. We had been so efficient at cutting them out that we accidentally cut an extra skirt. I just stuffed it in the bag with the others and promised her I would sew the ties on later after the concert.  She hates when things are not finished right and are left undone! Unlike me!  I promised to send her a photo of the girls in the skirts and then I gave her a hug and she graciously saw me out. I thought that was the end of my miracle!

I drove home with my finished skirts and quickly took a rest on the bed.  I was quite exhausted from all the emotion of running around and just the stress of it all.  Hanna came home and I pulled out the skirts. She was very happy with the end product. I counted all 8 skirts and put them back in the bag and then she took them to the concert.  I was getting ready to come over to the concert when I  got a text from her that said, “We need one more skirt! There is one girl without one."  I told her that I had made eight skirts and that both Paula and I had counted them several times.  I wondered how they could have lost a skirt in that short amount of time.  I took the extra skirt that didn't have the ribbon on it to the school and gave it to the girl who didn't have one.  After the concert we were talking about how one was lost and how that could be possible!! Then Hanna started counting again and she came up with 9 girls. We had needed 9  all along but I made 8 with an extra one showing up when we didn't expect it.  Truly we were all amazed at this miracle. 

After the concert a few of the dances came up to me and thanked me for making the skirts. They expressed that they felt more comfortable dancing in modest skirts as opposed to the ones that were offered.  It was really Paula who made them with God’s help!  She will never know how many people she blessed that day by saying yes to service and by having her eyes and ears open to the needs of a fellow traveler along this road we call life.   I hope that I have the opportunity to be the answer to a prayer or at least the catalyst for making someone’s day better than it would have been.  I hope that next time I seriously ask God for help, I won’t be surprised when he shows up after I have given my all, when I need him the most,  and with an  extra skirt thrown in just for fun.