1/31/2010

Happy Birthday Amy

My daughter Amy has a birthday this week.  Looking back over my years with her brings me such peace and joy.

Dear Amy,


Happy Birthday, my precious daughter Amy. I hope you have a wonderful day knowing how dearly you are loved and adored by your mother. You have a unique and singular place in my heart.

When it’s your birthday I like to focus my thoughts on you and think about our years together. Even before you were born I used to talk to you and rub my tummy. I remember carefully selecting your name, getting your room ready and making a baby quilt for you with red and white hearts. I was so overcome with peace and joy when I first held you in my arms and knew you were alive and well. Your older brothers and sisters thought you were the best thing that ever happened to our family when I brought you home. Someone was always excited to hold you and love you.

It has been a joy to watch you grow up, develop your talents and grow into the woman you are today. I see you becoming all that God intended. You have a queenly presence about you – a stately dignified aura. You don’t demand front and center attention but when you speak I listen because you always have something wise or insightful to share.

I notice the way you find the one person in a crowd that needs a little extra special attention. I notice how kind and gentle you are with young children. I notice your Christ-like nature as you kneel down and give those you love a foot rub and your unhurried undivided attention. You have the ability to get out-side your self and see the unspoken needs of those around you. Thank you for noticing and responding to my unspoken needs.

I see you becoming a confident professional as you work toward your degree in special education. I’ve seen you face and overcome your fears one by one. I’ve seen you develop your skills and abilities with persistence and courage. You don’t give up when things are difficult, but keep working hard each day until your dreams are fulfilled.

I think you found the perfect companion in Aden. You are both such a joy to me. I love to talk to both of you for hours. I always prayed you would find someone who would honor and respect your gentle nature and kind soul. I think you bring out the best in each other.

Our family will always be better because you insisted that we hug, kiss and say “I love you,” every single time we left the house or came back. I love your hugs and the way your eyes sparkle when you smile. I love your quiet laugh, your attention to detail and the music of heaven you bring into my life when you play the harp.

I don’t think you know how stunningly beautiful you are. I don’t think you know how intelligent or wise you are. I don’t think you know how approachable and warm you are. I don’t think you know that every single time to see your face coming through the front door or think about you in my mind I feel all warm inside and full of ardent gratitude to God for the gift of you in my life.

I absolutely love being your mother. You are sunshine to my soul. I look forward to many, many more years of making wonderful memories together.

I love you Amy, with all my heart.

MOM

Amy Growing Up

1/24/2010

Joshua and the Awesome Principal



This is a special story written for my
famous, cool, superior, exceptional genius grandson Joshua
on his tenth birthday.
I love you Josh.



One day Josh woke up with a tight knot in his stomach. His regular teacher at school would be gone that day and a substitute was going to teach his class. Josh never knew what to expect when a substitute came because there was a nice substitute and a mean substitute. The nice one let the children party all day but the mean one took great pleasure in making the students into robot zombies. Sometimes Josh wondered if the mean one was an alien because she was always rolling her eyes and looking up at the ceiling. Josh decided to fake being sick that morning but his mother didn’t fall for it.
While he was walking into school Josh tried to get his mind off his impending doom by asking himself his favorite question: If a long range laser guided thermal nuclear heat-seeking missile hit your house, would you rather die by the explosion or the house caving in and crushing you? Next he thought about how to convince the principal that homework should be illegal because homework is forced payless work and forced payless work is called slavery and slavery was banned years ago.
When Josh arrived at his classroom his worst fears were confirmed. The mean substitute greeted him with, “Take your seat young man. Feet flat on the floor, eyes forward and mouth shut.”
Josh knew this would be the worst day of his life. First the substitute made all the students do pull-ups and push-ups in the gym. Then she made them all use the restroom and wash their hands. Next she had them start on ninety-six long division problems with remainders. But when she started a lecture about space travel including black holes, super novas and pulsars, Josh sat up straight and listened with both ears. Just for a minute he imagined himself floating weightless in space.
That is when the mean substitute asked Josh a question. Josh didn’t notice. Then she suddenly appeared at his desk.
“Well, young man,” the substitute asked.
“Well what?” Josh said.
“That is precisely the point. You don’t know what I asked you because you weren’t listening,” the mean substitute answered.
“You don’t know what I was imagining because you didn’t ask,” Josh answered.
The mean substitute rolled her eyes, looked at the ceiling then took him to the principal’s office.
“Yes?” the principal asked as Josh entered his room.
“I was imagining instead of listening,” Josh said.
“What were you imagining?”
“What it would be like to be floating in space.”
Can you keep a secret?” the principal said.
“Yes,” Josh answered.
Then the principal opened the closet door in her office and took Josh by the hand.
“This is my anything-you-can-imagine closet,” the principal whispered. “If you can imagine, it can happen.”
Before Josh knew what was happening the closet door closed behind them he was floating in space with the principal. They did superior cartwheels, exceptional back flips and daring nose dives.
“This is awesome,” Josh said. “Do the other kids at school know about this?”
The principal smiled, winked then told Josh it was time to go back to class.
“Your substitute may be harsh at times,” the principal said as she closed the closet door behind them, “but when she was a little girl she used to imagine living in a world made entirely of chocolate. Here, you take this chocolate candy bar to her. See what happens.”
Josh walked back to his class and noticed all the other students had left for recess. He walked up to the substitute and handed her the giant chocolate bar.
“How did you know that was my favorite?” the substitute asked. Then she sighed, leaned back in her chair and carefully unwrapped the foil. “I used to imagine living in a world where everything was made out of chocolate.” She took a bite, licked her lips and smiled. “By the way what were you imagining?”
“That I was Inderfurnius X the legendary, famous, cool, superior, exceptional genius space boy of the universe blasting off to the moon while eating doughnuts.”
“If I close my eyes, I can almost see you,” the substitute said. “Your spacesuit is silver with a crimson red light-saber blazing across the front and the doughnut is filled with rich milk chocolate.”
Josh squeezed his eyes together imagining the substitute as a little girl in the principal’s office with chocolate smeared on her face. Then the nice substitute broke off an enormously large hunk of chocolate from her giant candy bar and handed it to Josh.
Maybe this isn’t going to be such a bad day after all, Josh thought. Not such a bad day at all.

1/19/2010

The Love of Music


I walked into my living room this past Sunday and saw this delightful gathering at the piano. Without any prodding from me, my youngest daughter Alisa decided to show her three young nieces Emily, Sandy and Libby how to play the piano.

How quickly we pass down our priorities to the next generation and the next. Like a pebble thrown in the pond - what we begin continues in ever widening circles touching the lives of our posterity for ages to come.

1/18/2010

Happy Birthday Alisa



My daughter Alisa is ten years old this week. She is a joy - an intelligent, happy, talented little girl who loves to snuggle in tight and read bedtime stories. Alisa likes to play the piano, take care of young children and animals and has a sprinkle of freckles across her nose.
Let me tell you her story. When I was 46 years old my OBGYN told me I was too old and it would be too risky to have another child. I was already the mother of a large family and his advice seemed logical enough. I’d just been through a painful and difficult miscarriage and all medical facts seemed to agree with his conclusion. Yet something deep inside told me that my Father in Heaven had a precious gift for me.
When I found out I was pregnant, I was elated. The pregnancy proved to be difficult with bleeding issues and bed rest. Each month I maintained the pregnancy was a deeply appreciated triumph. Then my doctor told me my unborn child would have serious genetic abnormalities and asked me to consider an abortion. All life is sacred to me so his suggestion was never an option. I had been a volunteer at a school for children with Downs Syndrome when I was in college and fell in love with my students. So a having a child with special needs was not something to dread or fear for me.
When an emergency C-section was needed a nurse read the chart next to my bed and said, “It says here your baby probably has Downs Syndrome. I have a Downs boy at home and know what to look for. When your baby is born I’ll be able to tell you.”
When Alisa was born, the nurse leaned down and whispered into my ear, “Oh she’s fine. She is beautiful.”

The first time I held Alisa I sang her a song that just flowed from my heart . . . “My mommy loves me. My mommy loves me. My mommy loves me because I’m me. She’ll always love me. She’ll always love me. She’ll always love me because I’m me.”
Even today I sing that song to her before I tuck her in bed at night.

Alisa’s life is a miracle. Every child is a miracle. Being allowed to be a mother is a sacred privilege I never take for granted. My husband, children and now grandchildren are the joy of life and my most deeply prized treasures.
Happy birthday, Alisa. I love you so very much.

1/13/2010

The Love of Writing Runs in my Family


Writing has been a passion all my life. Now my children are discovering their unique voice. I'm so proud of them. Congratulations Arianne and Aubrey!

My daughter Aubrey Baadsgaard Poffenburger just had an article accepted by Antiquity, a prestigous acedemic journal published in Britain.


My daughter Arianne Baadsgaard Cope has just published a short story in a new hot off the press book that is described as the best comtemporty collection of serious short fiction by LDS related authors.

1/07/2010

How Brief Each Day . . . Each Life


A while back my husband and I went for a ride in the mountains near our home. The road was rough with large boulders in the path, streams to cross, steep grades and numerous rock slides. Yet there were moments when we’d come around a bend in the road and suddenly there was our own private preview into heaven . . . deep green pines nestled in golden quaking aspen paired with brilliant splashes of red maples.
Quite unexpectedly snow fell the next day - soft and deep. Luminous leaves turned brown and the breathless mystery of a Rocky Mountain autumn was gone. Mountain trails closed and a harsh winter of white and waiting was upon us.
A few days later I walked into our church and saw my neighbor Bill seated in a chair next to his wife’s casket with his head bowed.
"I don't know what to do without Ann," Bill wept as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He died two weeks later.
While I sat at the kitchen table with Ann’s daughters planning her funeral, I looked into their beautiful dark eyes and saw glimpses of their petite Italian mother staring back at me. I realized the best parts of Ann lived on. At the funeral her children remembered their mother’s soft hands and her famous spaghetti dinners. In the end, it seems it is the little things we do for each other that turn out to be the big things.
As her grandchildren and great-grandchildren sang I Am a Child of God at her funeral, I knew Ann’s efforts to love and nurture her family had born fruit. Though she sometimes felt discouraged with her efforts, in the end she had led her posterity a little closer to heaven.
The seasons of life pass quickly. How brief each moment, each life. Death is waiting around the corner for us all. We can not dismiss or ignore death without losing the key to love. As winter increases our appreciation for summer and fall, so death intensifies our love for each other. We are always aware that those we care for will not always be with us.
Life is excruciatingly short. Our appearance on this stage is brief - our tenuous entrance and exit nearer together than we suppose. Like restless leaves trembling in the autumn air, a precious life is here one moment, then gone on the next breeze. Eventually we will all be separated from those we love.
I've heard it said that we die when we've learned what we came to learn or when we've taught what we came to teach. Perhaps we must do both. We are each given an equal endowment of twenty-four hours a day. What makes life precious is that we don’t know how much time we have left. Not knowing gives our fragile existence urgency. We feel the constant stirring to use our inheritance wisely - to live and love as if there is no tomorrow.
On the day of Ann’s funeral I watched the last leaf fall from the willow tree and rest softly on her lawn. Then a light snow fell. Winter and separation had come - but not to stay. Like the closing of the day and the setting of the sun, rebirth and reunion await the dawn. Spring will come again.



1/05/2010

Happy Birthday Caleb


This is a special story written for my angel grandson Caleb on his fifth birthday. I love you Caleb.



Caleb's Story
On a bright a shining day in heaven God called a meeting for a special group of his beloved spirit children. They were the chosen ones to be born that day.
Caleb was excited because he knew this was his birth day. He listened carefully as his Father in Heaven told each spirit about the circumstances of their birth.
One son would be born in a poor village in Africa. Another daughter would be born in a high rise in New York City. As the Father spoke Caleb became more and more anxious because his name was not called.
Finally he was the last spirit child in the room.
“Caleb, you will be born today into a body without a brain. Your mother and father will be told that you can not see, hear, feel, touch, taste, think or move. They will be told by the doctors to let you die because you have no quality of life.”
“Will my parents want me to be born?” Caleb asked.
“Yes. They will love and care for you all your days.”
Caleb thought about his parents. He thought about the constant life and death struggle they would face each day to keep him alive.
“Will I ever be able to thank them?” Caleb asked softly.
“You will not be able to speak to them with words, but you will communicate spirit to spirit. Your voice will be like the breathless silence between the notes of a masterful symphony. Only those who are still and listen with their hearts will hear you.”
“How will my mother care for me when I don’t have a brain to tell my heart to beat or my lungs to breathe?”
“Your mother will care for you night and day with all her heart and soul. I only send spirits like you to someone full of light and love. You will not be tested or tempted but you will teach.”
“How will I teach when I can not see, hear, move, think or speak?”
“Your mother will be your voice when you can not speak. She will be your legs when you can not run. She will be your hands reaching out to others when you can not move.”
“How will my mother be able to care for my needs when they are so many?”
There was a long moment of silence. Then Caleb heard God speak again.
“I will be on her right hand and on her left and my spirit will be in her heart and my angels will be round about her to bear her up.”
God paused. Caleb waited. Then God embraced his son and spoke again with great tenderness.
“I will be her strength when she is tired. I will be her legs when she is too weary. I will be her hands reaching out to others when she can not move.”

1/04/2010

Baadsgaard Family Coat of Arms

While discussing our upcoming family reunion my husband suggested we create a Baadsgaard Family Coat of Arms to put on a flag and place below an American flag on our early morning flag ceremony. My wonderful son-in-law Aden came up with this awesome suggestion:

Baadsgaard Family Coat of Arms
• Green signifies abundance, joy, hope and loyalty in love
White: truth, sincerity, peace, innocence and purity
• Gold: wisdom, generosity, glory, constancy and faith
Charges of Shield
• Fleur-de-lis: Purity and light
• Anchor: Hope and religious steadfastness - acts as a reference to the naval interpretation of the name “Baadsgaard”
• Pen and inkwell: Educated employment and the art of writing
• Open book: Manifestation—a declared interest in education (and represents the literary accomplishments of the family)
• White rose: Hope, joy, love and faith - this particular style of rose is known as the Yorkshire rose, a reference to the British origins of the Wolsey family)
• Star: Celestial goodness, excellence and nobility of character. The number of stars corresponds to the number of children in the family…)
• Angel Moroni: Activity in the LDS church and faith in the restored Gospel
Shield Supporters
• Stag: Peace and harmony; one who will not fight unless provoked
• Angel: dignity, glory and honor; missionary; bearer of joyful news
Helmet
• Facing left, the helmet indicates loyalty to God (additionally, this helmet is a rough approximation of the helmet found on the Danish Baads family coat of arms)
Mantling
• Usually a purely artistic touch; however, the red flowers growing near the base of the shield are woodbine, which symbolize “Love that does not injure that which it clings to”
Banner
• This is a motto or phrase with special meaning to the family: Cum uterque pedis contactus terra, nequeo induco bracæ. Translated loosely, it means “If you keep both feet on the ground, you can’t get your pants on.”

1/02/2010

A Mother's Gifts to her Children


MY PRECIOUS DAUGHTERS

Amy, Aubrey, Arianne, Me, April, Ashley, Alisa

When you're the mom raising a family you spend your days offering your children many gifts . . . nutritious home-made food . . . a warm, clean and comfortable place to live . . . delicious books to read . . . clean sheets fresh from the clothes-line . . . someone to care when you're sick, discouraged or sad . . . someone to clap when you perform . . . someone to get excited when you make the team, get the grade or find your one and only.

The gifts mothers offer are exquisitely personal - the use of your body for nine months while your child grows big enough to be born, your precious sleep so your child can breastfeed around the clock, your privacy so your child is never without a friend, your sanity so your child can experiment and make mistakes, your patience so your child can try again and again.

We offer all of our self until we think we have lost our self. But in the losing comes the finding and as the years go by suddenly mothers are surrounded by intelligent, talented, accomplished adults who also happen to be our children.

While my family gathered this holiday season, our house was full to over-flowing with all the people I love. To me it was not chaos but beautiful noise, it was not work but an opportunity for the next generation to get to know each other, it was magical really . . . a linking of hearts.

One day, my daughter looked around the room and saw each of her sisters smiling back at her.
"Look, Mom," she said. "all my sisters are here in one room!"
Then she grabbed someone from the kitchen and asked them to snap a picture of me and my girls . . . for she is a mother too now and she knows that moments like these are fleeting and oh so dear.

"Thank you for giving me my sisters," my daughter said as she gave me a hug. Each of her sisters added their own amen.

Brothers and sisters who love you - those were gifts I did not know my children even noticed that I offered them.

They do.