A post from 9-11-2011

This is a journal entry that I wrote on 9/11.

The big question everyone is asking today is, "Where were you? What were you doing ten years ago today?" This was the day as the country song says, "when the world stopped turning."
I was at BYU. That morning, as I was walking to my first class of the day, I remember running into one of my neighbors, Dinah, who was heading home. She stopped me and asked, "Have you seen the news?" She told me what little she knew, and I continued to my class. I had no idea what I was about to encounter. While many classes were cancelled due to the events unfolding on T.V., my education professor continued on with class, giving us an impromptu lesson on how to react and help students deal with tragedies. After class, I hurried home and joined the rest of America in watching the tragedy on T.V. I remember being glued to the T.V. for hours and even though I knew that none of my loved ones were near the terrible things happening on the other side of the country, I had an overwhelming need to hear the voices of all of my family and know that they were safe.
I remember in the aftermath of 9/11 being overwhelmed by the evil that was unleashed that day but also overcome by the patriotism, heroism and brotherly love that arose also. It was as if, for a small moment, we set aside our differences and became a united family. It was a terrible and wonderful time for our country.
Today marks the tenth year anniversary of that fateful day. It is crazy to think that it has been ten years. It doesn't seem like it was that long ago. But so much has happened since then. I graduated from BYU, went on to get my Master's from the U of U, taught middle school for eight years, got married, had two babies...the world started turning again. Most of the kids in school right now were babies or not even born yet when 9/11 happened. To them, it's just something to be studied in history class.
I will never forget 9/11 or the things I learned from that experience. And, as I sit here in a hospital room with my baby, I don't think I will ever forget this day and these experiences either. Years from now, I will still remember where I was for the tenth anniversary of 9/11.
Being at Primary Children's hospital has really opened our eyes to the difficult trials others have to face and to the amazing people out there serving and helping other people through their trials.
At the hospital, they have a short LDS sacrament meeting, so Nic and I decided to go to that. It was like a deep breath of fresh air for us. The spirit was so strong and wonderful. I have felt the spirit in different ways, depending on my needs. Today I felt the spirit as strength. As I looked around at the other people in the room and thought about the wide range of hardships and heart ache being faced by each individual in that room, my heart was impressed by the strength of the human spirit, the power in our souls that comes from being children of God. We struggle, we cry, we stumble here and there, but, with God's help, we push forward.
As they've shown images on T.V. from 9/11, I've been remembering the devastation, the overwhelming sorrow from that day. But we have moved forward and have become stronger. The really hard trials leave scars that can still hurt years later, but they can also leave strength and growth.
I like a comment someone said on my FaceBook. She said, "The miracle of children is their innate capacity to overcome. They know nothing of fear and failure. They are indomitable spirits that are strengthened by the knowledge of their spiritual history that the veil hasn't closed on yet."
I love that! Mark is definitely an indomitable spirit straight from God! And everyday I'm learning from him.

I have something to say about my sister...

I've stolen quite a few posts from my sister's blog, and now I have something I want to say about my sister.

Let's begin at the very beginning, a very good place to start (name that movie, Amanda!)...We begin before Amanda was ever born. I was an only child, spoiled rotten, with a really good life, but what I wanted more than anything was a little sister. I spent nine years of my life praying and begging Heavenly Father for a baby sister. In 1986, God finally answered my prayers. Amanda was almost a Christmas present (that was her due date), but I spent quite a few prayers begging Heavenly Father not to send her on Christmas (it would have really messed up my Christmas, after all!). Instead, my little sister arrived on New Year's Eve.

I wish I could say that I loved her perfectly from day one. I did love her from the start, just not perfectly. It was a difficult adjustment for me to learn to be a good big sister and share some of the lime light. And really, who can compete with an adorable baby? There may or may not have been some tantrums on my side of things. But I was fiercely protective of her. One of my best friends from high school remembers how I wouldn't let anyone hold her but me. I'm still fiercely protective of her. No one hurts my little sister! I had promised my grandpa, before Amanda was born, that I would never, ever fight with my little sister. I think I was able to keep my promise until she started talking. My grandpa loved to tease me about that all the time.

Growing up, we weren't very close. It was a huge age gap at the time. She liked to write her name with marker on everything I owned (books, homework, doll's foreheads...basically, anything that I valued had 'Amanda' with big, backwards A's written on it). I liked to torment her in any way that I could. For example, (what you are about to read is a huge confession) one time my best friend and I put catsup all over ourselves and got out a big butcher knife and convinced my little sister and brother that a killer had broken into the house and was still in the house trying to kill all of us. I made them hide in their bedroom while we sat and watched a movie, just so I wouldn't have to deal with them for a couple of hours. I'm ashamed, and slightly proud of the creativity, of my big sister tormenting.

Luckily, after my mission, when I had matured quite a bit, we found our sisterhood. What a blessing! People used to always tell me, "Just you wait. One day your sister will be your best friend." I never believed them, but they were right. She is my best friend. She is my confidante, my partner in crime, my shoulder to cry on, and my friend to laugh with. We have so many inside jokes, so many memories that we love to reminisce about together. I don't think I've ever admitted to her how hard it was when she went on her mission. I missed her so much. I didn't want to tell her how much I was missing her and make her homesick, so I would just tell her how proud I was of her (which I was very proud). What I tried not to tell her was how heart broken I felt every time I went to call her and tell her something and couldn't. It was a rough 18 months!

And now, with the boys, she's not just my best friend--she's theirs. She truly is Super Nanny. Take, for example, this past weekend. It was her birthday. What did she do for her birthday? She and my mom took care of my boys because I was sick. I think it was well after 1 p.m. and after a long morning and afternoon of wrestling Sam, that she announced, "I am now going to take a shower, if that's alright, because it's my birthday!"

She is always willing to drop everything at the drop of a hat to come and help me. Amanda has this huge heart and is always sacrificing and serving others. She is such an example to me of the Savior's love. And my boys love their Nanny. She has such a special, sweet relationship with both of the boys. I know that they will always be friends, even when the boys are grown-up. I can see Sam taking his kids some day to go visit Nanny on a regular basis.

The thing I love the most is that Amanda loves my boys as much as I love my boys. It melts my heart every time I see how much love she has for them. And my boys know it. They know that their Nanny Manda loves them with all of her heart (and that she loves to spoil them rotten!). I told her the other day that I kind of don't want her to get married and have kids of her own because then she'll love her kids more than mine! I was joking...I think. But I am amazed by her.

I guess when I prayed for a little sister all those years ago, I really had no idea what I was going to get. When God blesses us in answer to our prayers, He doesn't give us what we want--He gives us something far better. For me, that was Amanda.

You know, Amanda, I am having a good time.