a simple card...

I once got a card in the mail with a beautiful Thomas Kinkade picture of a cottage and a light house on the front. On the inside of the card, with beautiful cursive writing, I read the following:

"Hi Chersten,
This is a picture of your future home along the Oregon Coast" (I have always wanted to live by the Oregon Coast)
"I just wanted to send you a little note and thank you for who you are and what you do for Jared. We really enjoyed having Taelor. He has such a neat personality he gets from his mother.
At any rate, we love you, respect you and appreciate you.
Love Grandpa Wright"

This was from my father-in-law.

My father-in-law passed away this summer after a two year battle with brain cancer.

He was my seminary teacher in high school. He always knew how to make you feel good about yourself because he would compliment you in such a casual way that you would go away feeling better about who you were and not realize why.

He was faithful and kind...willing to do anything for anybody.

He could lighten the mood with a single comment...sending people who had just moments before been heated to smiling despite themselves.

The card I received was a simple expression of his love for others, his willingness to accept others with open arms, and his thoughtfullness. To be honest, heaven doesn't seem quite so far away any more and knowing that he is there makes death not seem so tragic.

I am grateful that I had "Bro. Wright" as a seminary teacher...that will never change.

But now, I feel overwhelmed and humbled that I was able to have Chadwin Spencer Wright as my father-in-law...and my friend.

Mom of the Year

For some time now, I have been in the running for the mom of the year award. Some doubted and some speculated....but today it is official. I have long deserved it.

How? you ask.

Please refer to the April 10th post. It tells all.

It happened again.

A masters degree...

Jared has graduated with his master's degree. I am so proud of him. Here are a few pics.

Halli Droppings

I remember when my uncle got my brother to eat a deer dropping by telling him they were deer vitamin. To this day I don't know why that would entice him to eat one, but he did.

Today I had a flashback.

Halli's digestive system as of late has been rebelling against all of the solid foods I have been feeding her. I will stop there...no further explanation needed right? After I changed her diaper, I had to run in the other room to find something Jared needed in a hurry. When I came back into the living room, I found that Halli had opened that diaper (do you see where this is going?) and was eating...yes eating her "Halli droppings". This picture is very similar to the look I had on my face when I saw the atrocious scene.

Did you know you can find out quite the plethora of info from poison control? Apparently it isn't so bad to eat...never mind.

For the love of red vines

The Gottas and the Wannas

There is a dilemma I face each day. The dilemma is as follows: trying to find the balance between the gottas and the wannas.

Each day I do a lot of gottas, but wish I were doing the wannas, but if I do the wannas, I feel guilty that I'm not doing the gottas. You know what I mean...gottas include washing, cleaning, sweeping, paying, shopping, wiping, dressing, mopping, organizing, planning, sanitizing, folding, exercising and many other "ings".

The wannas are much more colorful and full of fun. Eating a bowl of ice cream, attacking that book I got from the library, taking a nap, working on the blog, talking on the phone, shopping for stuff we don't need, sitting down to play the piano, reading the funnies in the reader's digest, painting toenails, going out to lunch, and so on.

Now, this is the part of the blog where I sum up the problem and bundle it into a neat little solution...but to be honest...I don't have one. It is just one big gotta/wanna mess.



I better go clean.

Our Christmas card...if you will

Taelor's view

I think it is fasinating to see things through a child's eyes. The following picture is how Taelor feels the people and animals present at that first Christmas were positioned. You know...I think he just might be right.

Loving Lucy...Part II

About a month ago, I couldn't get a hold of Lucy. Every time I would call her, there would be no answer. For a 92 year old, you can imagine she doesn't get out a whole lot. With an abundant amount of naivete, I figured that I was missing her each time I called. How odd. Well, the "realistic" Chersten kicked in about the third time I called Lucy and she didn't answer. Something must have happened. I tried neighbors. I tried family. I even tried the obituaries. Nothing. I finally got a hold of an acquaintance and found out that Lucy had been put in a rest home...forgive me...a "retirement" center. I was shocked. Lucy is not the "retirement center" kind of gal. She thrives at home. She loves home. I went to visit her that day. When I walked into the room, I saw bits and pieces of her home...a nightstand, her brown couch, and the picture of her deceased daughter. When Lucy came out of her room, there was something missing. I realized that part of her had faded with the home she no longer occupied.

You see, Lucy is her flowers. Lucy is that can of pepsi hiding in her fridge. Lucy is the smile behind the tear. Lucy is the pictures of family and friends on her fridge. Lucy is the vacumm that you have to hold just a certain way in order for it to work. Lucy is the little black cat that comes each time she opens the door to take out the trash. Lucy is the sweet quotes all over her home. So what happens when these seemingly meaningless things are taken away? Part of Lucy is gone.

I visited her again a few days ago. After the visit, I felt sad as I walked down the long hall from her room.

I blinked back tears as I heard a t.v. blaring, ironically, I Love Lucy.