Signs of Love I Never Expected

Joy says, "We didn't even have a camera with us." I think, all things considered, you will forgive us.

Our car broke down Thursday while we were running some errands. We didn't have our cell phone. Thankfully, I knew the bus routes in that area very well and realized that if we caught the next bus in 5 minutes, we could transfer to another one at Cornell and get home right away. If not ... well, it would only be a 75-90 minute walk carrying Hyrum and some groceries.....

Hyrum, who is enamoured with the song "The Wheels on the Bus," was excited at the prospect of getting on the bus for the very first time. He ran around the little bus shelter, slamming into the glass walls. The other patrons were very patient.

We boarded the bus and headed to the back. Hyrum told me the doors on the bus go "open, shut." The driver on the bus said "Hello" instead of "Move on back," but Hyrum was excited.

So excited, he started coughing. I put my hand over his mouth to cover his cough.

Then I realized this was a more serious cough than I had anticipated. I adjusted my hand a little and changed his position as he lost the little bit of food he had eaten that day [poor little sick toddler!]. He was stunned for a moment, then lost twice as much again.

So there I sat with a cupped hand full of partially digested applesauce, food on my suit soaking my pants, on the floor ... just not on Hyrum because I had used the second's warning to make sure he missed himself. The other passengers were also clean and very nice about things.

The first thing I did was ask Hyrum if he felt better. He agreed, but was pretty shaken. I soothed him as best as I could and then we turned to the question of cleaning up. We gradually realized we had diapers and baby wipes we could use to mop things up before we left. Thank you, Joy.

We caught our buses and were home soon enough. Hy went straight to bed and stayed there quite happily. Daddy had a shower, and all was well.

Later that night, I thought about it a little more. If Derrill the young single adult had been holding a child threatening to do what Hyrum did, he most likely would have tried to distance the child from him as fast as possible. I don't want this stuff on me. Instead, my instant reaction was to keep it off of him and even to capture some in my hand in case it was only a little. My next reactions were to make sure he was feeling better and see if I could do anything to help him instead of worrying about my suit or getting this stuff off me.

I guess it's just one more way I love my son. I just didn't realize at the time I was holding love in my cupped hand.

The doc says he has strep throat, so we got some antibiotics and he managed to keep down several foods, including peanut butter, so we're hopeful he's on the road to recovery. The two of us probably have strep now, though. Yet another sign of love, I guess.

Elder M. Russell Ballard

Occasionally I go back, collect the last decade or so of talks by a particular general authority of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and read through them to get a better sense of that particular leader's life and ministry. Each time I have done this, I find it profoundly affects my understanding of them, and hence of the gospel.

While Hyrum is sick and I watch him at home during church, I found the time to do this for Elder M. Russel Ballard, the 6th most senior apostle in his 25th year of service. He is the grandson of an earlier apostle, Melvin J. Ballard, and is descended from Hyrum Smith, Joseph's brother, for whom our Hyrum is named. He used to be a Ford dealer and businessman.

Elder Ballard served on the missionary committee for years, only to be transferred to the public relations committee. This is kind of like me telling Joy to take a break from being a mother (by which I would mean, let me have a turn playing with .. er, taking care of Hyrum) and do some housework instead. It's all the same thing - you're just working with different people.

Anyway, when Elder Ballard gets up to speak at General Conference, I prepare myself for a missionary talk. There's good reason. Oct 2001 he gave us advice on how to be better member missionaries by removing the phrases "nonmember" and "non-Mormon" from our vocabulary, to be replaced by "neighbor." Here are the next several titles: "The greatest generation of missionaries," The essential role of member missionary work," "Let our voices be heard" by sharing the gospel in all media formats, and so forth.

This means he has been surprising me nearly every conference for 5 years. What has he been talking about lately? Mostly about families. Yes, there was one talk about sharing brief statements with people who ask us for a little information about the church. But in that talk, he discussed the importance of families as part of that information. Last conference, it was about the relationships of fathers and sons. He's spoken about finding fulfillment in motherhood, about teaching our children, about learning from the generations before us... There's been a lot of family going on, actually. "What matters most is what lasts longest."

For the most part, he focuses in on practical advice to help our families be more close-knit, trusting, loving, and successful:

Sons: Trust your father, take an interest in his life, and ask for his advice.
Fathers: Listen to your sons, pray with and for them, have the "big talks."
Mothers: Recognize that the joy of motherhood comes in moments, don't overschedule yourselves or your children, but do find time for yourself. "We love you. We respect you and appreciate your influence..."
Husbands: Show appreciation for mom, counsel with her about the children, give her a "day away," be actively involved in the family.
Church leaders: don't overplan Mom, reduce the workload on families
Children: Help out without being asked, say thank you, tell Mom you love her.
Single guys: Date and court. Don't rush, but be active about it.

And what about courting his own wife? “I met her at the University of Utah ‘Hello Day Dance.’ A friend of mine thought I ought to meet her, so he tagged in to dance with her, danced over to where I was, introduced me, and I danced with her thirty seconds before I was tagged out. That was the beginning of a courtship of eleven months. She was not only beautiful, but had a sparkling personality. I knew from the beginning that I wanted to marry her, but she didn’t share the same feelings. It was a little hard convincing her. I kid her now that getting her to agree to marry me was the greatest sales job I ever did,” said Elder Ballard. That sounds remarkably familiar..... (Hat tip to 'Grandpa Bill')

I need to update my expectations.

Random Thoughts on Suffering

Today for part of church some of us debated the existence of trials and challenges. My mind turned to Brother Brigham, second president of the Church. For a man who is as firm and straightforward as he, he does seem to come down on both sides of the issue:

"As to trials, why bless your hearts,
the man or woman who enjoys
the spirit of our religion has no trials..."

"The people of the Most High God
must be tried. It is written that
they will be tried in all things..."

"We are now in a day of trial ..."

"If the Saints could realize things as they are
when they are called to pass through trials,
and to suffer what they call sacrifices,
they would acknowledge them to be
the greatest blessings that could be bestowed upon them."

These and many more excellent words of wisdom are here.

We did reach agreement at any rate that we pass through suffering. And one of the blessings of this suffering is the gaining of something called empathy. The example given was that when you break your foot, you learn to have empathy the next time you see someone with crutches.

I've been thinking about this empathy thing over the last few weeks. It seems that we, many of us humans anyway, do a good job convincing ourselves that we are so thoroughly unique and individual that no one has ever suffered or gone through what we do. Though prominent among teens, turning twenty does not remedy the opinion. We therefore only accept counsel or pity or acknowledge the suffering of someone who has suffered sufficiently similarly to us.

"No one knows my pain." Folks who have waited a long time to find their eternal companion (or to have a child or to graduate or to ...) discount the pain of those who had to wait less for those blessings. My sense of loneliness and not-belonging is greater than yours. My psychosis is bigger than yours. It's a perpetual game of Topper. Yet "charity suffereth long" and despite suffering a long time "envieth not and is not puffed up" - charity neither longs to exchange crosses nor is it proud because my cross is bigger than yours... charity doesn't compare crosses at all.

Even if trials are not universal, suffering is. We all suffer. Some more visibly, some more vocally, but all of us do. Why don't we a) accept others' suffering empathy or b) apply our suffering to others better?

J.K. Rowling had some wonderful things to say on the subject at Harvard's commencement 2008 (here's my summary, the original link is missing now). She started off, "I am not dull enough to suppose that because you are young, gifted and well-educated, you have never known hardship or heartbreak. Talent and intelligence never yet inoculated anyone against the caprice of the Fates." She then goes on to discuss why we need imagination: it's not just for bedtime stories of wizards, but "it is the power that enables us to empathize with humans whose experiences we have never shared."

So the question for the night as I get ready for bed, is: Is common suffering enough? Can we learn to accept another person's love and concern simply by virtue of their having suffered something else? Can we learn to empathize with others to say, "No, I don't know precisely what you are going through; but I know what it is to hurt, and I join you in that pain"? In short, to mourn with those that mourn and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, not just those who mourn the way we have mourned.

Our Perfect Example

Two weeks ago, my brother and his wife joined us for General Conference. It's a time when members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (and anyone else who cares to) join together to listen to our prophet, the apostles, and other church leaders give advice and counsel inspired by the Lord.

One of the main messages this time around that was most important to me was the testimony that each of us can receive revelation. That is, God will speak to us individually for our individual problems. This revelation comes most often as feelings of comfort or peace that help confirm a course of action, or things will stand out during my scripture reading I hadn't noticed before that seem to have a bearing on what I'm praying about. They particularly emphasized that parents have a right to receive revelation to help their children - that God wants to give us direction and help. It was a beautifully comforting message, and one that Joy and I have witnessed on a number of occasions in the last month.

Another of the main themes was that we should do anything we do out of love. President Henry B. Eyring, one of our prophet's two counselors, stood out to me particularly on that topic. You can find his talk "Our Perfect Example" in print, or as a video if you scroll down a bit.

As we strive to be like Jesus, he said, we need to "pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love" (Moroni 7:48). "Love is the motivating principle by which the Lord leads us along the way towards becoming like Him. ... The greatest joys and the greatest sorrows we experience are in family relationships. The joys come from putting the welfare of others above our own. That is what love is. And the sorrow comes primarily from selfishness, which is the absence of love. The ideal God holds for us is to form families in the way most likely to lead to happiness and away from sorrow."

He gave these words of counsel to couples: "Pray for the love which allows you to see the good in your companion. Pray for the love that makes weaknesses and mistakes seem small. Pray for the love to make your companion’s joy your own. Pray for the love to want to lessen the load and soften the sorrows of your companion." He also counseled about reaching out to wayward children, about how children can show love for parents, and about showing love for people not in our families.

He promised that as we would strive to be filled with love and give that love to others, we will feel the approval of Jesus and our Father more in our lives. We will have more peace and contentment in our lives.

1461

I'm several posts behind the great events of the last couple weeks, so I'll keep this one shorter.

Happy Anniversary to Derrill and Joy! The 28th marked our 4th anniversary*. To celebrate, we took advantage of my parents being in town for my graduation (more on that later) to watch the new Star Trek movie with the Petersons on Monday while they held down the fort. I was somewhat skeptical going in, but realized at some point in the movie that I was pretty excited and am quite happy with some of the choices they made. Let the Final Frontier continue! My folks also took us and the sister missionaries out to dinner and we played some board games with my parents all weekend. And for our reminiscing pleasure, I made up a Facebook quiz about our courtship so we could have a chance to talk about that wondrous year together.

Thursday we went to look for a replacement ring for Joy, whose opal fell out of its setting a few months back. The search goes on. I needed some time to lay down because I've been a bit sick this week, so she went to the eternal marriage institute class by herself while I put the baby to bed. Then we had just some nice quiet time together. I gave Joy a new set of Amish romance books and -- big drumroll -- a new portable wipes container! She was very happy to get that.

Sounds nice and time, right? Well, that's in part because Joy decided that since this is probably (hopefully) the last year we get a large tax refund, we should plunk down a chunk of it for tickets to visit her brother's family ... in EETALEE! So we're looking at taking off for my two week vacation sometime in Sept to enjoy the post-tourist season with far flung family near Venice**. That's the other part of the anniversary celebration.


* - 4*365 + 1 for leap year is 1461 days for those needing an explanation of the title, and since we were married around noon in San Diego, it's still the 1461st day ... for about another 2-32 minutes. It counts.

** - That's why she was recalling being at the Venice of Holland in the last post.

Mother's Day

I had the most Perfect Mother's day ever. So, this blog is really a tribute to my wonderful Husband, Derrill!

It all started on Saturday morning. We had stayed up late to listen to the Dogders loose against the Giants. It was a really fun game to enjoy together, but we had planned that Derrill would be getting Hyrum in the morning. So I slept in on both Saturday and Sunday, because of my wonderful Derrill. This was really a sacrifice for him physically, since we were up past 1:30 am. Then he made crepes for me (my current favorite breakfast), and let me exercise and shower before sending me off to the temple. Derrill then took care of Hyrum all day after having taken care of him in the morning. Derrill usually helps a lot on the weekends, but he even told me when I got home that he realized that what he usually does is help with Hyrum on the weekends and he had felt before he was taking care of him on weekends by himself.

I only explain the last part, because part of him mother's day gift to me that was very sweet was his added understanding of how much work taking care of Hyrum is. Understanding and compassion beat gifts any day. I got home from a wonderful temple session at 5:30 and had some great time with my family, because I had missed them. A gift that Derrill did not plan on giving me that day was that he told me that I was a good cook. It was a conversation that was inspired by some comments of a friend who wasn't feeling like a good cook. It kindof hit me in this moment that Derrill really likes all of the foods that I make him that he had growing up and that I have been very blessed (partly because he is not picky) to be able to feel that I cook as well as anyone has for him. It really made my day. He also gave me a small plant with cute pink flowers called Azealia. He was so on my wave length. He has never gotten me potted fowlers that we not daffodills and I was secretly hoping for potted flowers of some kind. What a guy!

Sunday, Derrill got up with Hyrum again (as I said before) and made me breakfast in bed with a divine chocolate muffin, grapes and crepes with a fancy banana sauce. I appreciated the extra sleep and the special treatment. My Derrill is so kind (then on top of all of that he was concerned the mothers day had not been good enough). After church Derrill and Hyrum presented me with cards and gifts, one each. The card from Hyrum has been a source of entertainment. On the front it says. "And now, PLEASE RISE for the National Mother's Day Anthem..." Then you open the card and it begins to sing "I will survive, oh as long as I know how to love I know I'll be alive. I've got all my life to live, I've got all my love to give. I'll survive" The picture inside is of maham and pandamoniam with a cat chasing a dog, mom pulling out her hair, dad panicing with a screaming babe in arms looking at a young child happily roasting marshmellows on the living room floor. Laudry, hand prints, other wall graffiti, cracks on walls, overturned flowers, paint and it says "Happy Mother's day". "Thank you for your patience, mom. Hy (of course written by Derrill)"

Well, the card was funny enough just the way it is, but for most of the rest of the day Hyrum also sported the card as he tottled around the house. He made sure to make the card sing everyonce in a while, he was cute figuring it out. The gift that came with Hyrum's card where some delicious milk chocolate covered cashews. Derrill's card was a sweet card telling me a list of 25 reasons why we are perfect for each other. His gift to me is a pair of earings that he has ordered, but was not able to give them to me yet. I opened a wrapped jewelery box with a not letting me know about the delayed gift. It was a really great day. I was some kind of royalty for mother's day ;)

At church I conducted the congregational hymns which is always fun for me and we had a lot of visitors for the Law commencement (people are leaving soon, wawah). We also had two musical numbers. The branch choir sang For the Beauty of the Earth. I sang with Caroline and our new branch president's wife As Sisters in Zion. It was a last minute thing planned at the Cinco de Mayo branch party. I was sittting with Sister Horrocks and she said that she had wanted As Sisters in Zion to be a musical number, that is how it ended up in the program as the closing number. I told her that it was still possible, and we could go back to the previous hymn chosen for the closing. She asked me who would sing it. I said that she and I could and we recruited Caroline as well. Before the Branch party was over. We practiced the Hymn once or twice with Caroline doing Alto and us on Soprano and Ben playing the piano and were to practice just once more before church. All went well, what a blessing.

It's GOOD to the be the Dad

Thursday morning - Joy and I had had a rough night's sleep and were kind of groggy and grouchy. We decided one of the best uses of our morning would be to sit on the couch and hold each other and be friends.

Then up crawls little Hyrum. Dear, sweet, little Hyrum stands up and begins pawing at my leg. He wants to be held too! This is unusual for him, but he knows that if we're paying attention to each other, we can't be paying much to him. We pick him up.

And, oh, the friendly little happy family cuddle we had! Baby kisses all around! Have another round, Mommy! Laughing, giggling, Hyrum planted sloppy wet kiss after sloppy wet kiss on my wife's face until I dived in for a turn.

Hyrum has the funnest way of giving a kiss. He opens his mouth wide and dive bombs in on a sudden. It can be a little frightening, since he sometimes bites your nose or cheek when he does this. Usually, though, it's a slobbery tongue that greets your cheek (or lips if you aren't fast enough).

We spent a very rejuvenating 15-20 minutes together as a little, sick family, just loving each other and being happy. I like our baby. I like my wife. It's good to be the Dad.

Hyrum vs. Chanch

Other blog post titles include: "Why I stay up so late at night" and "Episode 6: Return of the Baby Fat"

Time for a hat tip. My old mission companion and golden (aka greenie), Mike Baker, got married and had a baby just before we did. They affectionately nicnamed him: The Chanch. This was him at one month.Quoting from their blog:
--------------------------------
for those of you who don't know; that is in reference to the extremely chubby kid who loans Jack Black some stretchy pants; I know-Mike and I fully realise that we might have to pay for counseling later-but look at those cheeks. Can you blame us?
... Sadly, the only language that he is fluent in is wookie. Mike and I have done some frantic perusing of the old episodes in an attempt to communicate with him, but so far all we have really figured out is that most of the time he is saying "Mom I'm starving, I'm starving, I'm starving!"
---------------------------------
Regularly, their blog (featured on the right) refers to the Chanch's struggles with life. It's tough being a baby, y'know? Chanch vs. Pears; Chanch vs. Swings; Chanch vs. The Vast Right-Wing Conspiracy (j/k); and so forth. Hence tonight's blog titles.

Hyrum has had a real struggle to be where he should be. Joy has even more. The blessed lot of fatherhood has been to struggle with them.





Hyrum was born at about the 33rd percentile for weight and the 88th for height. Tall and slim. There was just one problem...











He would NOT eat. He would scream murder and the veins pop out of his head when we offered. This was psychologically shattering.











He lost more than 15% of his weight before we got him home. Regular readers will remember we started feeding him by syringe then. This was not particularly fun, but it was a LOT better than the alternative. By that time he was at the 6th percentile for his weight.






Well, that worked for a while. His weight stabilized and started going up. The docs took us off emergency status as he went back up to the 8-9 percentile.









He continued growing. His ribs disappeared. He started getting a teeny tummy. He got up to 8 pounds! Finally, a pound above his birth weight, after two distraught months. We were very happy.

Until we visited the doctor again and learned he was NOT keeping up with the other kids. He was at ... the 0.96 percentile for weight. And his height had not kept up either: from 88th percentile to 15th!


That's when I started staying up until 2-5 in the morning to work on the second chapter of my dissertation ... and to feed Hyrum. This lets Joy sleep through the night (mostly), and lets him Chunk Up.

This bathtub pic was taken a month ago at 10 pounds and 5th percentile.

Two weeks ago at our doctor's visit, he was 12.5 pounds and 15th percentile. The doc told us we could ease up finally since his weight had caught up with his last measured height. We don't have to wake him for a midnight feeding ... except that if we don't, he wakes us up for a 4am feeding, and so we're still being a little preemptive. We'll test him out again without the midnight feeding this week while I'm in DC.

If he has maintained his previous rate of growth, he should weigh between 13 and 13.5 pounds now. That would be somewhere around the 25th percentile. He's outgrown I think all of his newborn clothes because he's too tall (at 4 mo.) and Joy brought out the rest of his 3-6 and some 6-9 mo. clothes to try on.

I have never been so thankful to see a chubby cheek or a second chin in my life. It means hope. It means growth. It means life.
Of course, a lot still depends on the camera angle. But there is no question that he is a happier, heftier, healthier baby. I cry with gratitude tonight for Joy's sacrifices and efforts, and the multiple doctors it has taken to figure out how in the World to get him eat.

It still takes sacrifices and effort and near-perpetual adjustment. But I'm so thankful for my sweet little baby who I love so dearly and my tough as nails wife who has never given up, no matter how hard it was. Thank you, my Queen. I only wish I could do more. Thank you, God, for seeing us through.

And now it's time to fetch and feed my son before joining my wife in slumber.

The Anniversary According to Hyrum

My parents are trying to find time to finish their blog post about their third anniversary. It'll probably show up as the post before this one, so watch out for it. While you're waiting, though, let me clue you in on what really happened on Day 1111 of their marriage:

11 hours of DRIVING, that's what happened. And there's me in the back seat with nothing to do. Of course I slept nearly the whole trip! It's that or listen to Dad turn on yet another CD of romantic music while they reminisce about mushy stuff and kiss at each red light. C'mon guys, get a partition! It's at least nice they'd stop every 2 hours to feed me. (Mom tells me that if we hadn't had to stop to feed me, it would have taken much less time. Stupid seat belt laws.)



So finally we get to some place called Viagara Falls, ... or something like that. I don't know what the big deal was, but Mom loved it. We went on a boat that goes right up to the falls. I drew an arrow on the picture to show you.



Of course, Dad had to get a picture of me sleeping through one of the world's natural wonders. Give a baby a break! I mean, the falls were, like, the best white noise machine ever. How was a guy supposed to stay awake?

So then Dad gets lost in rush hour traffic and heads the wrong way down the wrong freeway, and I'm starving. Meanwhile Mr. We'll-be-there-in-15-minutes-tops doesn't want to pull over to feed me in case he forgets which wrong way he turned and can't figure out which way is north with the sun setting in the west. It's not that hard, Dad.

Finally we get to the Toronto Temple. Mom and Dad take turns watching over me while the other one gets to have fun in the temple. At least, I think it must be fun in there. Dad came out looking much more alert and calm, and Mom was smiling and happy to see me again. (Note to self: she's happier when I coo than when I cry. Maybe it's me.)

Here's me at the temple. In my car seat, of course, as if I hadn't spent enough time in there. Dad did take me out for a moment and let me touch the temple, though. He says it's the House of the Lord and he hopes that someday it'll touch me too. He's corny that way. He talked to me a bit about why it's such a special place, and he hopes someday I'll be able to go inside too. That might be cool. It must be important if they drove all the way out here just for that. They've been looking forward to going for months.





Dad took me on a tour of the temple grounds while Mom was inside. There were fountains and flowers and shrubs all over the place. Here are a couple pictures of me enjoying the grounds and being with my dad.






Oh yeah, the tour also included the foyer bathroom. (Greeeat time for a picture, Dad. Sheesh. The man is incorrigible.) On the plus side, I'm one of the few people my age who can say the temple has already changed him.



We ended the evening at the Mandarin Restaurant, some fancy schmancy Chinese buffet where Dad took Mom on their first date. Now that was cool. Every one of the waiters and cooks (and they've got something like 3 dozen!) wandered in to see the cute baby, or asked Mom and Dad to open up the baby sling and show them my gorgeous 3-mo. old self. The patrons at the other tables thought I was cute too, and some of the other kids under 1 came over to play with me. Everyone thought I was adorably cute and were amazed to learn I was 3 months old today. One of the teeny little waitresses commented that she has a 2-mo. old baby girl who's 12 pounds. Then another said her 2-mo old was 15 pounds. FIFTEEN? Maybe I am still tiny....

Every room has a different theme. This is Dad trying to make me look interested in the fish. The other aquarium was better: they had a live scuba diver in there scrubbing the place during dinner. They had a bird room and a bamboo room too. I think Mom and Dad will post some pics of it.

We didn't get there until it was almost their closing time, and the buffet disappeared before Mom was all the way done. Bummer. But I think everyone had enough. Then they put me back in my car seat for the 5 hour drive home. I decided to sleep through that too. We got home about 3:30 am. Dad fed me, Mom pumped, and then we went to bed while Dad went to take a friend over to the airport at 4:30.

Well, Mom thinks it's time for me to go to bed. She says I'm sounding just a little bit cranky in this post. I'm glad they enjoyed themselves, but I'm just thankful to be home and able to wiggle and squirm all day. Hey, Dad, where's my midnight feeding, yo?!

Where Did We Go on our First Date?

Oh, Canada.

(warning Watsons unplugged after midnight read at your own risk- length subject to station identification)

Today [June 11] we had a wonderful day, date and walk down memory lane.

Part III of the Watson Family Anniversary

J: I started this day same as most getting up at 7 to pump and feed Hyrum.

D: I did not start this day as most: I woke up before 10.

J: I was a little concerned that Hyrum woke up before I started pumping, because we were hoping to leave the house by 10 am, and that required me pumping, before feeding Hyrum. However, I knew this day would be an unusually good one when I went to check on Hyrum and he was smiling and talking to me very first thing. It is usually screams of “where is my milk” first.

D: I usually sleep through that.

J: In all fairness Derrill usually takes the late feeding, so I get really good sleep before I get up with Hyrum and that is due to my wonderful husband.

D: To make a very long post shorter, we did actually get on the road by 10:10 in part because I woke up an hour before I planned on.

J: Yeah, every mothers dream that she will get more help than expected. That was beginning of a day to spoil the mother.

D: That was the goal. The spoilage began in earnest in Niagara Falls, Ontario.

J: I told Derrill that I had reeeeeally wanted to ride the boat up to the falls, so we did. Our entourage was Hyrum on a boat called the Maid of the Mist. It was really cute, they gave us each a blue plastic hoody to wear, so even Hyrum had one.

D: And he slept through it, water spraying in his face. And he slept through it!

J: I love the rocks at the bottom of the first falls, but the U shaped falls at the end are just indescribable.

D: Wet describes them pretty well. And tall.

J: It was glorious. I love the continuous motion of the falls.

D: One of the things that impressed me was the color. You had white water cascading, blue water underneath us, and green water at the tipping point of the falls and it was all the same water. You are the Waterfall Queen.

J: One of the things that Derrill and I both really like about being in upstate NY is the water and waterfalls. I also liked standing at the edge of the boat with all of the spray in my face.

D: Then we went down memory lane.

J: Our next treat was going to the Toronto temple.

D: In Brampton.

J: This trip to the temple was in commemoration of our first weekend dating. I say weekend because Derrill came to visit me, stayed at one of my friend’s homes and spent the weekend with me.

D: And being the slow, careful, shy man that I am and not wanting to give Joy any ideas, I took her to the temple. Actually she drove me, but that’s cause she had a car that was built in this century.

J: Nostalgia was really interesting remembering who I was then and now, I am so glad things turned out the way they did.

D: That first weekend I also took her bowling, to eat Chinese, and for a romantic walk through knee deep snow when we held hands for the first time. Anyway back to the story.

J: We both did some initiatory work for the dead, taking turns watching Hyrum. It was so peaceful and wonderful to be back at the temple since we have had a four month hiatus.

D: While I was walking Hyrum around the temple grounds, I really enjoyed explaining to him why the temple is important and I took him out of his car seat to let him touch the temple.

J: When I got back to the car Derrill had left a surprise on my seat.

D: So did Hyrum but I didn’t want to tell her about that one. (just kidding)

J: It was a book that I have been dieing to read and I've been making a pilgrimage to in the book store for a while. I even had been walking in the store and reading a few pages from it while I was exercising one day.

D: She didn’t tell me about her visits to Mecca. I just knew she really wanted it.

J: It is called My Dearest Friend, a compilation of letters written by Abigail and John Adams to each other.

D: It seemed a very appropriate anniversary gift.

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D: So as Hyrum told you all, we then drove to the restaurant where we went on our first date: The Mandarin. A temple worker had recommended it last time we were there, and we were not disappointed.

J: It has GREAT atmosphere and some really neat rooms. And the all you can eat buffet is really cool. Buffets, I should say.

D: There are two buffets of regular Chinese entrees, one for salad, one for bread and soup, another for a grill with more US affair, and a ... 12345 ... 6th buffet with desserts PLUS the ubiquitous ice cream cart.

J: But you gotta be careful to get there before 9:30. I'm talking about before 9.

D: They're reasonable people. They'd like to go home too. They have to clean up. At 9:30, the food disappears. GONE. And they will not call it back again.

J: Derrill and I took turns taking care of Hyrum and getting food.

D: Otherwise we both might have had our fill. Joy was still looking forward to some items she hadn't had enough of, though I was happily stuffed.

J: Our waitress was really nice, and everyone paid homage to the boy. She took a picture of us and give it to us in a little frame. My favorite is the waterfall mountain as you come in the front doors.

D: They have two adjoining rooms in an aquarium theme, two more separated rooms with a bird theme (complete with both live and stuffed birds), and another large room with bamboo displays and a running waterfall that's a good 12-15 feet high.

J: And everyone converges on the same food.

D: I particularly enjoyed their fried fish. It was some Really good fish.

J: I really liked the grilled chicken and the clam chowder soup.

D: "Hyrum" wasn't exaggerating when he said there were 3 dozen servers. There were 4 for our small room alone, plus another guy watching them to make sure everyone had enough water.

J: We kept having people stop at our table who weren't our server, and she was plenty attentive.

D: We took some time after dinner to tour the restaurant, and nearly every server, busboy, cleaning lady, Tom, Dick, and Kim asked to see the baby in our papoose. They were astounded a baby could be so easily carried, at how small he was, ... and how cute!

D: The only other remarkable thing for me was on the drive home. We very nearly ran out of gas before we found an open station on the Canadian side of the border. I did realize that the listed price was in liters, not gallons, but because it was midnight I didn't bother calculating what the gallon price actually was. I prepaid the amount I would normally have spent, and only afterwards realized that the tank was far from full. I refilled again on the NY side, thankful that the Democrats and Greens haven't upped our gas taxes another $1 yet, as they have in "Canadia."

J: It was just a great day. I was really thankful that, as at other times, the Lord has helped our baby to have a nice peaceful day so Derrill and I could spend some time together.

D: It was a very nice day with my sweetheart.

Death in the Family

Brrryanna D. Watson

-- my Friend, Companion, Comfort, Baby, and Schoolmaster to prepare me for Joy --
passed away last week.

Dad let me know (out of nowhere) over dinner on Friday night. When he said, "We said goodbye to Bryana," the look on his face was as if he were starting a story, and I waited for the Not Funny punchline. But he didn't continue to say "as we left her at the vet" or "and she waved back." It took a couple minutes, as he told me about how they had to make the choice to have her put down, for it to sink in. Joy said my eyes looked like something had died inside.

[As you can probably surmise, this is going to be a long one, as much therapy for me as anything else. I haven't had time to properly mourn her yet, and this is part of that. So there's no need to read on if you don't want to ... as if you ever needed to. Anyway.]

We met Bree around the beginning of school in 1992. Mom's cat had just died and we went to the animal shelter to find her a new one (we were down to just two at that time, and that just wasn't right). Dad instructed us in the car, "Now, we are here for your mother to find a cat. We are all here to help, but no one is allowed to fall in love with a cat except your mother." He then proceeded to fall in love with a long haired cat named Princess who became his office cat for many happy years.

Mom and I continued into the kitten home. I was looking along one wall of kittens (hmm, kitten ... kitten ... another kitten....) when one in the far corner I couldn't see reached her paw outside of the cage and batted me on the nose! I turned to look at her ... and was instantly smitten. She was so adorable! I asked if I could please hold her. The lady got her out of the cage and she just leaped into my arms and climbed up onto my shoulder. She began rubbing my face with hers and purring and purring like she had found a long-lost friend. They had named her "Brrryanna" because when she spoke, instead of saying "Meow," she said, "Brrrow?"

Even though she was only 9 months old herself at that point, she had already had a litter of kittens. She had been living on the street when the shelter found her. Years later, an x-ray found that a BB pellet had been shot into her during that time too. I always liked the image of having saved some poor young woman from a really bad situation (Cosette or her mother from Les Mis?) and given her the home and a chance to be loved she had always deserved.

Mom and Dad discussed it with me. They agreed I could have her on condition that I take care of her and pay for everything. I asked them some questions about how much cat food and vet trips cost. I didn't make anything like that. I sadly concluded that I couldn't have her. We went home.

I continued being sad for the next couple weeks, when I came home from school to discover Brrryana there waiting for me. Mom told me, "She is my cat. She will sleep in your room and you will take care of her, but we will pay for it." My best guess is that my parents decided that since I was mature enough to know I couldn't take care of her, I was finally ready to.

Oh, I loved little Bree! She and I would lay on the floor while I did my homework, with her sometimes batting at my pen to get my attention. She loved to chase balled up pieces of paper around the room. She always climbed up onto my shoulder, where she could perch like a parrot, and purr happily, sometimes rubbing my face, sometimes licking my hair (as in the picture).

There was just one problem, really. She never did learn how to use a litter box. She particularly liked school papers. Once when I told my teacher I couldn't turn in an assignment because my cat had peed on it, everyone laughed and said what a bad liar I was. So I brought it in the next day in a plastic baggie and said she could still have it if she wanted. Some few groused that I had probably left it in her box, but I was generally believed after that. She did end up teaching me not to leave anything important on the floor that way, though. She also taught me to make my bed and put a plastic sheet over it to protect that too.

Mom and Dad cared for her for six years while I was at BYU or on my mission in Germany. Once on my mission, I sent her a old sock I had worn out. Mom and Dad pulled it out, wondering what that was for and tossed it on the ground. Bree came right up to it, rubbed her face up against, purring happily and batted it around. Every morning for months Mom would come downstairs to find it in a new place because Bree had been playing with it during the night. She remembered her daddy.

When I moved out here to Ithaca, I finally managed to get an apartment that would allow pets and took full ownership of my little girl. Dad and I drove out here from California, with her slightly drugged. She was a perfect little angel on the trip, staying put in her litterbox most of the trip until we stopped for the night, when she would get out of her box, join us in the hotel room, and use her box in the bathroom. She never tried to escape. You could leave doors and windows wide open and she would never leave.

She really changed a lot in Ithaca. She had always been the kind of cat that would sit on the back of the couch all day, eat and drink, and that's about it. In Ithaca, she came alive. She learned to speak a great deal. One of her favorite activities was to look out the window at the squirrels. She followed me back and forth in our small apartment whenever I paced. She slept with me, laying close up to my chest with her head resting on my hand. She was a good part of the glue that held me together through a few very difficult years until I met Joy. She also got sick a lot, so I would walk with her on my shoulder for an hour to get to the vet to have them tell me they still didn't know what was wrong with her.

Bree happily accepted Joy when she came around, willing to rub against her shoe or sit in her lap when Joy let her, but also willing to give Joy her space. Joy was touched by that. But as our courtship got more and more serious, Bree became a more difficult problem. Joy couldn't stand the thought of living in the same house with an animal that sheds, let alone one with Bree's bathroom problems -- we didn't know Joy was allergic to cats at that time, but she often said she wished she were so she had an excuse for her aversion to them.

I brought Bree home with me to California the Christmas that I proposed to Joy (who was also staying with us). Again, she was a perfectly well-behaved puss on the plane [and no, she wasn't in my luggage]. While there, I made the difficult (heartbreaking) decision to leave Bree with Mom and Dad so Joy could feel comfortable in our home together.

It was the right thing to do, particularly in light of what we know now about Joy's allergies. I got to visit Bree once or twice a year when I came home, and though she had calmed back down to a tired, noisy old cat, she remembered me. By the time she turned 15, she was too old to really climb up onto my shoulder anymore, but if I put her there, she would purr contentedly. Last Christmas she couldn't even manage to hold her balance on me anymore. I just sat with her in the upstairs bathroom to talk to her, pet her, and let her walk around me and mew (then change my clothes and wash up for Joy).

When she went downhill, she went down fast. Mom and Dad got real concerned about her and got her in to the vet immediately. Since her last visit, she had contracted diabetes and her kidneys had failed, so she was seriously dehydrated, and had an infection. There was no way to cure it all, particularly the kidney failure. I know that putting her down had to have been the right decision.

Every time I went home, I knew it could be the last time I would ever see my beloved cat. So every time we left I said a tearful goodbye. Even so, my real regret is that I wasn't there when she was put down. I wanted to be there for her, to let her know she wasn't alone, that I loved her so much even though we had to be apart. I should have been there, I keep feeling, even though it probably makes no real difference. I try to tell myself that's impractical, even if I had been let in on it before it happened: no time, no money. But even though I was hurrying to get my dissertation draft done, I could have kept working on it on the plane and been back in time to meet with my committee. And even though we really don't have much money left over after Hyrum's birth and the mobile home we just bought, I did get a free ticket on my last flight that I was going to use for Joy to visit her family at Thanksgiving that I could have (selfishly) used to be there for Bree.

Dad tells me that she felt loved and purred a bit when she brought her in, so she wasn't alone. I know they've taken very good care of her, given her (as Dad put it) a good retirement. I'm really so very thankful for all they've done, paid for, and particularly put up with! on her/my behalf for some 13 of her 16 years. Mom posted a very nice blog (after I was told) with memories from the other family members about Bree.

I am comforted in knowing that, in one strange sense, it was the right time for her to go. When I was a teenager and then a YSA, her constant love was a sign of hope that someone from outside the family could choose to love me. She had always completely accepted me and taken me in from the first, and I was able to love her too, faults and all. After I met and grew to love Joy, I referred to her more often as my baby. I learned to be gentle, and to give appropriate, loving discipline. And now we have a real baby. My baby.

Hyrum doesn't perch very well on my shoulders. He hasn't learned to purr, and "Brrrow" is a little beyond him too. He doesn't much care for it when I scratch behind his ears. But he feels so right in my arms and will be fun to hug. His smile is just as expressive and as freely given, and someday he'll even learn to talk! And he loves being bounced, which Bree would never have put up with. It's a good trade, and always was. But I will miss her.

There is one other grand comfort, from the "sealed portion" of the scriptures. In the Bible Dictionary under the entry for the Revelation of John, it records among the doctrinal points in that book: "Animals are resurrected from the dead, and there are animals in heaven, redeemed by the blood of Christ (Rev. 5: 11-14; D&C 77: 3, HC 5: 343)." God willing, we'll be together again. And our grand hope is that, in the resurrection, Joy's perfected body won't be allergic to cats anymore, and she can rejoin our family forever. Another reason to be thankful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ!