8/29/2011

Caleb Needs Your Prayers


MY HEROS:  Caleb, Dallan, Mitchel, Matty, Josh and April

My grandson Caleb is in Primary Children's Hospital battling an infection.  He needs all our prayers. 
When my daughter called at midnight and asked if I could watch her other three boys while they were at the hospital, I was so grateful there was something I could do to help.  As my worried daughter and her husband were pulling away in their van in and dark and rain, April said, "Just crawl in our bed and try to get some sleep Mom."
So I did. 
Before long my four-year-old grandson climbed in his parent's bed and snuggled up. 
Toward morning I felt Mitchel touching my head  . . . all over.
"Mom?  Is that you or Dad?"  Mitchel asked.
"It's Grandma," I answered.
"Oh," Mitchel answered matter-of-factly just like Grandma  crawled in his parents bed every night.  
Then he drifted back into a deep comfortable sleep.
You know we do a lot of things we think are important in our lives, but the years have taught me that being a comfort to a child is pretty much right up there near the top of my list.

My grandson Caleb was born without a brain and has had to fight for survival every day of his life.  He is my hero - but so are his parents and brothers Mitchel, Josh and Matty.  Every day they take of Caleb's many needs with joy and gratitude for his presence.  Every day they gently care for and deeply love someone who can not take care of himself. Their daily quiet constant acts of service to their brother and son is at the pinnacle of my list. 
 

8/22/2011

Sharing a Beautiful Post by my daughter




Spiral Shell
by
Arianne Baadsgaard Cope



I’ve always been captivated by spiral shells. It’s meditative to trace their spiral pattern, gently growing outward before coming to a point.

Like my daughter, I collected snail shells when I was little. They were the only shell available to me in a mountain desert. I tried to imagine what it was like inside that simple little house. There were no real rooms, surely. Just a narrowing circular tunnel in the dark. It either must feel incredibly safe in there, I imagined, or terribly claustrophobic.

Here in the Pacific my fascination with spiral shells has grown. I love finding weathered shells on the beach where the inner chambers of a shell have been revealed by sand and wave.


Life is a spiral, I’ve learned. Not some journey between point A and B on a time line. Life turns in on itself, gently but surely bending around.

In nowhere has this been more apparent than in Samoa. You see, this place was very much a part of me before I ever wiggled my toes on its sandy shores. Until I was old enough to realize otherwise I thought the whole world was only two places--Utah and Samoa.

You see, my Dad lived in Samoa for two years between the formative ages of 19 and 21. He was here as a missionary, preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ.

He told me stories about this place. Taught me songs and words from the Samoan language. I used to sift through his box of Samoan treasures often, pressing my hand respectfully into the smooth Ava bowl, holding the shells to my ear, studying the pattern on the tapa cloth, and tying on lava lavas. It was his amazing pictures of this place that got me interested in photography. I learned the ins and outs of photography using the sturdy vintage SLR he brought with him here.

My Dad’s parents kept a coconut he mailed them on their mantle. I can still see it there, with the stamp pressed on its husk, their address printed on its surface in my Dad’s tiny, deliberate handwriting.

To me, Samoa was as significant a country as China or Russia. Even more so. I had no understanding of population sizes or power. I was captivated by this place. It must be terribly important to everyone else as well. This is how my children feel about Spain, the country where their daddy served a mission.



Like Spain transformed Jared, Samoa transformed my father. It became a part of who he is and therefore a part of all his children.

I wonder what parts of him thread back to this place. His generosity has a Samoan feel to it. His way of saying a lot with a few words is something I see here all the time. He has a steady gentleness to him, my Dad. I feel it in the waves here. I think of him every time I step outside. There simply must have been something about this place that my Dad needed, to become who he is. So the tides brought him here to become it.

I must need it too. How else do you explain that I ended up, of all the places in the world, right here, washed upon the same shores, walking under the same coconut trees?

Dad was here more than 35 years ago. But it feels strangely like we’re here at the same time. I’ll be out on a street and turn around, suddenly, expecting to see him. The money here never leaves—coins from the 1960s and 1970s are still circulating. I swear I can see his finger prints on them. Isn’t that him sitting behind me on the old rickety bus? I turn around. No. It was just a feeling.

I know he’s at home 7,000 miles away, dealing with a life 10 children and several decades have loaded on his shoulders. But he’s here with me too. You see, the circles of our lives have overlapped. In this spiral shell he’s just one turn ahead of me. I can reach up and feel the step of his young self on the ceiling. I hear his muffled echo.

And I imagine him pausing, back in 1973, in the market buying bananas or walking through a village, because it feels like someone he knows just passed by. He’s sitting watching the waves crash against the black cliffs and wondering why he doesn’t feel alone. He doesn’t know me yet. But I’m already a part of him.

He’ll circle away from Samoa and toward me. And then I’ll circle away from him and toward Samoa. Life is spiraling us around in a beautiful, simple dance.



I’ve always been captivated by spiral shells.





8/21/2011

Hiking Kings Peak


Climbing mountains is not easy - but the view from the top is worth the struggle get there.




Each of us has mountains to climb in life but the change in our heart and our perspective is worth the struggle.


My husband Ross and my son John climbed the highest peak in Utah this weekend.  This hike takes several days and requires some good legs and lungs.  The first day you have to pack camping gear and food on your back then set up a base camp.  The next day you finish climbing to the peak. 

John is rightfully proud of his accomplishment.  He might not fully understand, until he almost sixty like his father, but hiking Kings Peak is also quite a feat for the man at his side. 

Kings Peak has become a rite of passage for the young men in our family.  Because Ross didn't want to miss having this experience with his youngest son, he has been up every morning  at 5:30 speed walking for a hour and a half ever since John was born fourteen years ago.  And when I say every morning that is what I mean - rain or shine. . . blizzard or sub-freezing temperatures do not stop this man.  

I have often asked myself what motivates a man to leave a warm bed every morning and venture into the harsh weather conditions of Utah year-round.  Now I know.   

Ross is motivated by love - deep abiding love for his family.  He knows he needs a strong healthy body to be the kind of husband and father he wants to be.  Ross has heavy responsibilities at work and at church so he fits in his exercise time while the rest of us sleep.  

Congratulations Ross and John! 

     You are both my heroes!    


8/17/2011

Don't Stop Having Children Too Soon


 Even though I'm fifty-seven, I have a daughter in sixth grade.  She starts her final year of elementary school on Monday.  Alisa is the last of my ten children.  Watching her grow up has touched my soul in a tender way  that only comes at the end of your children's childhood.  I'm savoring these sunset days with a singular awareness and gratitude.

Yes, my doctor told me I was too old. Yes, I'd read all the statistics about having children in your forties along with all the possible problems.  Yes, the pregnancy was difficult.  Yes, I was told my baby would have significant genetic problems.  The medical people were wrong.  My daughter was born perfectly healthy. 


Janene and Alisa

God had a gift for me and I chose to receive that gift with faith, trust and deep rejoicing.  So to all you women out there who feel too tired or too old to have more children I say, "Leave your options open.  You don't know how you will feel a few years down the road.  You don't know what message God will whisper in your ear.  You don't know what gift God is waiting to give you." 

8/14/2011

Grandmas Rule With a Soft Fist

DOWN HOME with Granny B
Make a friend with a grandma today for they are not always the quiet soft-spoken fragile women you might suppose.

* Grandmas know how to be fiercely tough if someone they love is in trouble.
* Grandmas love their family members with a loyalty and intensity you do not see in other relationships.  (You better not mess with this grandma's children or grandchildren.) 
* Grandmas are always your biggest fan.
* Grandmas have lived long enough to know what to fight for and what hills to die on.  They choose their battles carefully.
* Grandmas might not see or hear well but they love more deeply than the ocean.
*  Grandma might have yellow teeth and whiskers on their chin but they understand that true beauty always lies within.
* Grandmas would face a racing train or a firing squad if they thought if would save their child or grandchild.

So the next time you see a little old lady, just remember there is a mighty strong loving grandma residing in that tiny frail body . . . imagine her in super hero tights and a cape.  Grandmas Rock.  
 

Baadsgaard Man Camp

Every August all the guys
 in our family plan what they call 
 "Man Camp".
They enjoy four-wheeling, fishing, camping, hiking
and camp fire stories.
Welcome home guys. 
Hope you had a great time.

8/10/2011

Luau Fun

My son Joseph had a sudden appendix rupture a few weeks ago.  He was in serious condition and had to spend a long time in the hospital.  While his wife Martha and I stayed at his bedside, an army of loving people stepped in to bring meals, mow lawns and tend children.  As a thank you Joseph and Martha invited us all to a luau .  The dancers brought us all into the  fun.  Thanks Joseph and Martha for such a fun evening.

8/08/2011

Cove Fort Days

My family spent some time at Cove Fort Days this weekend. 
We learned how the pioneers made soap, pottery, and cloth.  We watched children play on pioneer toys and watched a film about Joseph Smith.  We took a ride on a horse drawn wagon and toured the restored fort.  We visited tents with handcrafted goods, ate a free lunch and listened to muscial performers. 
Each time I attend I think about my ancestors who helped settle the American West with their own hands.  I love learning about how they raised animals, gardens and children. 
I have so much respect for their faith, resourcefulness and hard work. Cove Fort Days wouldn't happen without many willing volunteers.  A big thank you to everyone who makes this event possible for me and my family.     

8/01/2011

The Ups and Downs of Life

My daughter Arianne is spending four months in Samoa - a place that by all accounts is a paradise.  She sends along such beautiful pictures for me to enjoy.  Yet her experience in Samoa - much like the journey each of us take through life -  is a mixture of both pleasure and pain.  This past week her whole family has been sick with a variety of ailments. 

Perhaps that is the purpose of our existence - the majesty, mystery and paradox. 

We can't have mortal life without the possibility of death.

We can't have health without sickness. 

We can't have joy without pain.