Honoring the life of Benjamin Orton

My grandson Caleb's good friend died recently. Benjamin Orton and Caleb Moody share their love, their similar experience of living life without a functioning brain and families who have immensely treasured having these two celestial boys in their home.

My daughter April and her friend Emily (who also has a son with special needs) went to New Hampshire to attend the funeral and support Ben's mother and their dear friend Becky.

I feel so honored to know you Ben.  Thank you for being Caleb's friend.  We will miss you and the light you brought into our lives.  You life was short but rich.  Thank you for sharing your love with us.

Spanish Fork Pioneer Cemetery Visits with Family by Janene Baadsgaard

One of the tradtions we have in our family is to visit the Pioneer Cemetery in Spanish Fork on Memorial Day.  Then we take turns telling a story about one of our Pioneer ancestors. 
Another tradition we have is that we visit the graves of our parents/grandparents on Memorial Day.  Then we each take turns telling each other one happy or positive memory we have about our parents or grandparents.

More Funeral Wisdom

The only people who are truly happy are those who have learned to live for others. When we truly love others, we are perceptive about their relationship to their own lives and not overly concerned about their relationship to our lives. We love them because they exist, not because they earn it. Only God offers us unconditional love – the rest of us are just practicing. When we are filled with God’s love, we always have enough to share. What will really matter when we die – the kind of house we lived in, car we drove or how much money we had in the bank? No. Our lives will have meaning only if we’ve taken the time to truly love someone.


My husband and I like to go for walks around the cemetery. Looking at the markers is always good for personal perspective adjustments. I often stop and read the headstones. The limited space on the grave marker demands the surviving loved ones limit their descriptions of the departed to a few words like “loving mother” - “gentle husband” – “precious child.” What few words do we want to describe us? When I read the simple phases chiseled in the granite, I always leave with a clearer focus about what matters most. Our ability to love those closest to us will determine the quality of our life.

Who will hold us in their arms when we die? Who will care that we lived at all? Who will miss our presence? Why do we so often spend time on things that matter least instead of people who matter most? When we focus our time, energy and affection on people, we have the same priorities as our Creator.

Emily's Baptism Day and Andrew's Blessing Day

We had such a wonderful day in Roosevelt today.  It's not very often when you are able to see your granddaughter baptized and your grandson blessed on the same day!

                                                                                  

More Baadsgaard Family Reunion 2010 Photos

Faces at the Baadsgaard Family Reunion

Funeral Wisdom

I once attended a funeral for a man who lived in my neighborhood. During this man’s funeral a short talk was given that changed my life.

The man who died taught my class in Sunday School and I enjoyed his lessons immensely. He always taught with an extra dimension of originality, and then topped it off with a sense of humor. His terminal cancer was untimely. He was leaving behind a new wife and young son. Before he died, he asked me if I’d sing at his funeral. Before I could answer, I bawled. He tried to comfort me and told me he was at peace.


“I’ll miss snuggling in bed at night with my wife and watching my little boy grow up,” he said. “But I trust God. I know everything will turn out all right.”

A friend of this man was asked to give a talk at his funeral. While I was sitting near the podium after singing the requested musical number, this friend walked haltingly to the microphone. He shook with emotion as he stood awkwardly at the pulpit preparing to begin. Whenever he tried to speak a flood of emotion would overwhelm him. He’d pull himself together before he’d try again. This happened over and over for a good five minutes. Five minutes behind a pulpit without saying anything tends to get the audience’s attention. We were all praying for him. Finally this man was able to utter three words. Those three words changed my life.

“He loved me,” this friend said with tears streaming down his face.

That was all he was able to utter before he sat down. Those three words were the sole text of the most beautiful sermon I’ve ever heard.

It occurred to me that if someone could say those three words about me when I died, I will have lived a meaningful life. I’d previously thought my value depended on how many people loved me, not how many people I loved. Because of that talk I realized that love loses its power when we expect something back. We love best when we let go expectations of what we want in return. Since that day at the funeral, I made a decision to live the rest of my life as a student studying the miracle of love . . . and it has been a grand journey.

Emily Day

This is a special story written for my granddaughter Emily to celebrate her eighth birthday.  Happy Birthday Emily!

Once there was a girl named Emily who had a hard day. First, her baby brother Andrew wouldn’t stop crying while her Mommy fixed breakfast. When Emily picked him up, Andrew spit up all over her pajamas and then his diaper leaked. While she was gone to school, her little sister Sandy lost the shiny lady bug pin Grandma gave her. At supper, her little sister Libby reached over and knocked her soup off the table into Emily’s lap and burned her legs.

“Did you have a hard day?” her mother asked while she tucked Emily in bed that night.
“Yes,” Emily answered.
“Sometimes do you get tired of being the oldest?”
“Yes,” Emily sighed.
“Sometimes do you wish you didn’t have to be a good example all the time?”
Emily nodded.
“I have an idea,” her mother said. “Tomorrow will be Emily Day.”
“What’s that?” Emily asked.
“That is the day when you don’t have to be the oldest and you get to do whatever you want and make a mess if you feel like it without getting in trouble.”
“Really?” Emily asked with a smile.
“Really,” her mother answered.
The next morning Emily woke up when she felt her mother lift her from bed and take her to the rocking chair. Then her mother rocked her back and forth for a long time.
At breakfast Emily ate ice cream with strawberries on top just because she felt like it.
When her little sister Sandy asked for ice cream with strawberries on top her mother said, “No, this is Emily Day.”
Emily decided she didn’t want to go to school. She played in the field next to their house instead. She took all day to build a fort with sagebrush and old rocks. Emily got so dirty a dust cloud followed her everywhere she went.
When her little sister said she wanted to play in the fort, Emily’s mother said, “No this is Emily Day. She doesn’t have to share.”
In the bath that night Emily splashed so high she made a lake on the floor. Just before her father was about to scold, Emily’s mother said, “This is Emily Day. She can make a lake on the floor if she wants to.”
“Did you have a good day?” her mother asked while she was tucking Emily in bed.
Emily smiled and nodded.
“If you ever need another Emily Day, just let me know,” her mother said.
Emily smiled. Then an idea came into her brain.
“Do you want a Mommy Day?”
Her mother smiled.
“How about tomorrow?” Emily said.
“I think I’d like that,” she answered.
Then Emily and her mother gave each other a great big hug.

* * *

Happy Birthday Emily. I love you SO much!

Hugs and kisses,

Grandma Baadsgaard

Look Mom, I'm the Breadmaker!

I remember a day when I walked into the kitchen to find my young son surrounded by the large containers where I stored our flour, rice, sugar and pasta. He was busy scooping – sugar into the flour – rice into the sugar – pasta into the rice – you get the picture. The whole kitchen looked like a white billowing cloud except for my son’s innocent grin and two large blue eyes staring up at me.



“Look, Mom. I’m the bread maker!” my young son said as he looked up at me.

Suddenly it dawned on me that whenever I made bread I pulled out all those containers and started scooping. He was trying to be like me. My feelings of frustration melted into love. I was so proud of him for trying.
As we got busy cleaning the kitchen I realized God loves us like that. No matter how big the mess or mistake we’ve made, God provides us with a Savior to help us clean it up and make everything all better. We can “be still and know that (He is) God.”(Psalm 46:10) We can put our hand into the hand of God’s and know, in spite of present realities, everything will be all right in the end - no matter what.
Christ promises, “Fear not, little children, for you are mine, and I have overcome the world, and you are of them that my Father hath given me; And none of them that my Father hath given me shall be lost.”(D&C 50:41-42)

Happy Birthday Libby

This is a special story for my granddaugher Libby written for her third birthday.  Happy Birthday Libby!

Libby's Rain Dance

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Libby who had a purple rain coat with flowers snaps and a butterfly pocket. On hot summer days when there isn’t a cloud for miles around, Libby knows just what to do. She grabs her slick purple rain coat and marches outside to talk to the sky. When she reaches the sidewalk in front of her house, she looks up and . . . the Libby rain dance starts.


First Libby lifts her right foot and then she puts in down.
Then she lifts her left foot and twirls all around.
Next she does the rub-a-dub by patting her round tummy.
Then she licks the air because she thinks it’s yummy.


Next she finds a pebble and sticks it in her mouth
Then she sucks it clean, before she spits it out.
Next she grabs a glob of dirt and flings it all around
Then she sings a rain song and fills the air with sound.


Then before you know it the clouds slip into view
The air feels kind of heavy and smells like morning dew
Then Libby reaches back and pulls on her slick hat
Right as she hears the rain drops going pitter-pat.

I hope you like your new rain coat Libby. Keep doing the Libby rain dance and listen for the magic. I love you very, very, very much.

Love,

Grandma Baadsgaard