Christmas~2019...My 80th...

Christmas!  My favorite time of the year.  In the continuum of my lifetime, this will be my 80th Christmases Celebration.  I had a couple as an infant, a few as a toddler, many as a small child, 5 or 6 as a teen and the bulk as an adult.  Childhood Christmases were filled with dreams of sugar plum ferries, dolls, bicycles, roller skates and Santa Clause.  Those were some of my favorite Christmases. There were carols like, "Jingle Bells," "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas," "Frosty The Snow Man" and "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause."  Every child should have these memory building experiences.  Don't take those away from any of them!.

As I grew into adulthood, I think the very best Christmases were those when I realized it wasn't all about toys and presents and trees and lights...and Santa Clause.  There was something more to this holiday.  Something I came ro realize  that the season. held for me something far more precious...the true wonder of the reason for this special day.  I discovered the Christ Child!   The little Babe lying in a manger became real to me. A tiny infant born all those years ago in a remote little town called Bethlehem as prophesied by early Prophets in the Old Testament.  The Hymns "O Little Town of Bethlehem," "Silent Night,"  "O Holy Night"and "Away In A Manger" took on more meaning for me.  Handell's Messiah tells the whole story and fills my soul with such amazing joy!  Isaiah Prophesied many hundreds of years before His birth:  "Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bare a Son, and shall call His name Immanuel." (Isaiah 7:14)

His name, as told to Joseph was to be Jesus.  He was the son of God, born to Mary who was chosen by God, Himself to be the mother of His son  She was a humble young girl, really, engaged to be married to Joseph, who was of the House of David.  Together, they accepted the responsibilities told them by the Angel of God to be the parents of this spacial child.  I cry when I hear the son "Mary, Did You Know?"  I am in awe of that Holy woman.

I have thought and thought on many occasions what it must have been like to be the mother of the Christ Child.  Having children of my own, I am aware of the responsibility that I have had to guide them and lead them and though I sometimes have failed to be 100% the proper Gospel Tutor for them, nevertheless, it is a humbling undertaking to do my part to help  bring them back to their Father in Heaven, as I promised that I would do when I undertook my calling as "Mother."

To be the Mother of the Savior of the World?  Oh, my!  That must have been overwhelming!  And God chose just the right young woman to do the job and just the right time for it to come to pass.  "And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the Inn." (St. Luke 2:7). "For unto you is born this day in the City of David, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.And this shall be a sign unto you; ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger."  (St. Luke 2:11-12)

God's gift to mankind...His Only Begotten Son, Jesus Christ...was the beginning of Christmas.  It was literally, the First Christmas.  We celebrate His birth every year on December 25th and offer to Him our gifts of devotion, love, praise and a lifetime of adoration.  "O Come, Let Us Adore Him."  Let us show a little more kindness to each other, a little more help wherever it is needed, a little more joy in the giving of ourselves to others, and a little moreLove for mankind and for our Savior this Christmas Season.

Children have their memories of the wonders of Christmas, as they should, but as adults, we have another wonder in our lives...the wonder of a loving Savior who was born on this day to bring to pass the culmination of His Father's plan to provide a Savior for His children.  God bless us, every one and please, "Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas!"

In An Instant...

Your life can change...in an instant!  One moment you are on your way to celebrate with your husband the Closing of your Refinance on your home with a special lunch date at Red Lobster...and the next moment you area looking at the grill of a white pick-up truck coming right at you!  Then, BOOM, and your whole world has turned  inside out!

It was September 5, 2019, and it was my father's birthday.  I was thinking he would have been 105 years old today, had he lived!  I remember the accident vividly!  I wish I didn't!  I play it over and over in my head and wish it wasn't so.  But, I can't change anything...except my reaction to it.  I choose to have a heart full of gratitude...gratitude that I am alive.

In those first moments after the crash, I thought of my dad, whose life was snuffed out by an accident on St. George Blvd. in 1989.  His life wasn't spared!  He left us in an instant!  Then my thoughts turned to my beautiful mother, who was only 53 in 1969, and the car she was riding in was hit head-on by a drunk driver and she was rushed to the hospital with crushed ribs and both lungs deflated...she would be kept alive with chest tubes for weeks after the accident.  Her life changed in an instant.

Lastly, I thought of my first husband, my forever sweetheart, who suffered a severe Coronary event (heart attack) in 1981while driving, causing his truck to leave the road, crashing into a tree.  His life was taken from us in an instant and our lives were forever changed.

These are examples of some severe and tragic events that can happen in anyone's life, causing their lives to change.  The loss of a loved one, divorce, the loss of a job, an unplanned disaster (fire, flood, earthquake, or other natural disasters)...all of these and even others can cause one to sit and reflect on what you had that is now gone, and turn your sights to the future and survival.

In my case, I don't know how I would have been able to move on without the God\spel of Jesus Christ in my life!

Thankful...

Thursday, November 28, 2019, Dean and I gathered in Phoenix, AZ at the home of one of my best friends from childhood, Suzanne Gallo and her husband, Lew for a "Friends" Thanksgiving celebration.  We were joined by another friend from Santa Monica, Ginger (O'Bannion) Caban and her husband, Sam.  Suzanne and I go back to our early dancing days with our teacher, her Auntie, Mahri.  She lived practically next door to us on Ashland Avenue.  Gionger and I were acquaintances in High School, but she was mostly Suzanne's friend.

Ginger and Sam Caban

We learned that the 6 of us have much in common, even though we are all of different faiths and different backgrounds...yet we found we have much more in common.  We shared a delicious meal (provided by Suzanne's cousin, Tanya, who couldn't be there because her mother was ill).  The table was beautifully set by Suzanne and she and Lew were the perfect hosts.

We caught up with stories of what we have been doing since High School, laughed until we cried or couldn't catch our breath, played "Prescottopoly." and just thoroughly enjoyed each other's company.  We found that we could laugh at our "old age"...a place we never thought we would ever be...like turning words around in a sentence, not hearing what another one said and trying to repeat it back to them and got it completely wrong, or not being able to see the writing on the board game and moving someone else's piece.  It was all great fun!  I haven't been able able to let go and laugh like that in years.

Early in the day, Dean learned that his Uncle, Art, had passed away in Illinois.  He spent much of the morning on the phone with cousins and family.  That was a sad thing for him.  Art was 93 and had suffered a stroke recently.

And then, my husband went into a full blown Asthma attack, triggered either by the dogs or the dust blowing around outside through the open window.  At any rate, we had to rush him to the Emergency room for nebulizer treatments and medications.  He turned around within. a few minutes and then he was able to breath normally and relax again.  When we got back, we had a slumber party, sitting around the living room and talking until 1:00 AM!

We woke up to a nice breakfast and then lunch of leftovers and just enjoyed each other's company.  Sam helped Lew fix the dishwasher that wasn't working; Suzanne stood, and with tears in her eyes, told us all just how thankful she was to have us there with them;  and then we drove home to a half inch of snow!  What a wonderful Thanksgiving celebration.  I can't think of anything better than celebrating and giving thanks than doing it with friends or family...or sometimes both.

I am so thankful for my friends.  I am thankful for my family, who had their own celebrations with their own families.  I am thankful for my husband who puts up with me and supports me and loves me and does these amazing things with me.  I am thankful that he received the treatment he needed to get him over the hump with his Asthma attack.  I am thankful for Emergency Room personnel who give up their Thanksgiving celebrations to work and be available for such emergencies.  I am thankful for the love that brings families and friends together.  I am thankful for family memories that keep loved ones close in our hearts.  Dean had some wonderful memories of his Uncle Art.

I Remember Grandma...

Ida Jones Davenport

I loved my Grandma, even though she could be a cantankerous old woman sometimes.  I remember her music and her singing as loud as she could while she played her guitar or her mandolin.  She had a gift, in spite of her life-long struggle with speech because she was born with a Cleft Palate and a Hair Lip.  Adversity did not keep her from being the strong woman she was, or maybe she was the strong woman she was in spite of them!

When I was growing up, my mom taught me to respect other people's property and never to touch their belongings without their permission.  I remembered those teachings every time we went to Grandma and Grandpa's farm for a visit.  Grandma had this beautiful breakfront chest with glass doors in her bedroom, and inside on one of the shelves, she kept some of her most prized possessions.  One of those possessions was a very old doll with a china head, hands and feet.  Her body was stuffed with sawdust and she wore a brown pioneer dress with black ribbon trim.  Everything on her was original...and she was nearly 100 years old!

Grandma's Doll, my Emma
Circa 1850's

On every visit to Grandma's house, I would go into her bedroom, lay on the floor on my stomach and stare at that doll for what seemed like hours.  I was mesmerized by that doll.  On one visit, Grandma came into her room and found me there and asked what I was looking at.  I told her I loved that doll and asked if I could hold her?  She opened the glass door and lifted the doll out and handed her to me...and then she proceeded to tell me her story.  She had once belonged to a friend of hers when she was a young girl growing up whose mother, when she was a child, had carried her in a wagon across the plains with the Pioneers.  Oh, how I loved that story!

When I was a teenager, Grandma called me into her room and asked me if I thought I was responsible enough to take care of that doll.  When I asked her, "Why?" she said, "Because, if you are, then I want to give her to you."  My heart lept for joy and I hugged her and hugged her and said, "Thank you," over and over again.  I named her Emma.

I did take care of that doll and over the years she has had a special place in my different display cases...until just a few years ago, when I gifted her to my daughter, JerriAnne, who I knew would love her and take as good care of her as I have.  I told her, when she was old, I wanted her to gift the doll to the Daughter's of The Utah Pioneers Museum in Salt LakeCity, Utah.  She deserves a place in the history of our beloved Pioneer.

Our Son, The Cellist, Troubadour, "Third Seven"...

Billy Mickelson.  Our oldest son.  He was born to be a musician.  From his earliest years, when he donned his father's headphones, listened to the music on the stereo, and sang to the top of his voice for all the world to hear, we knew that something wonderful was going to evolve from this little one!  At the age of 2, he would climb up onto the stool in front of a drum set in a music store and bang on those drums to whatever beat was going on in his head.  Or he would sit in his dad's lap at the piano or harpsichord and move his little fingers across the keys, making his own little sounds.  At the age of 4 he was taking violin lessons (Suzuki) in Taos, New Mexico.  And at the age of 14 he was given a guitar by his step-mom for Christmas, had only a month's worth of lessons, and the rest is history.

He has always had a beat going through his brain.  His teachers couldn't stop him from drumming on his desk with a pencil and while driving, his hands are moving constantly to some unheard beat.  Sometimes, I wish I could climb inside his head and hear what he hears and feel what he feels

When Billy was in High School, some of his friends and he got together and formed a rock band.  After High School, that rock band morphed into "Mr. Potato!"  His father and I attended some of his shows in Bend and Redmond, and, by golly, that boy was really good.  His friends Beau (on drums) and () (On bass guitar) stayed with Billy for quite some time.

Eventually, Billy formed a few other bands with friends like Casey, who wrote some amazing blues songs, and Robert Kinisten to form Misle.  Robert played the piano, and by this time, Billy had picked up and mastered the cello.  From all of these groups, Billy eventually morphed into a solo cellist "band"called Third Seven  (he does percussion and vocals and other sounds on his cello using a looping technique which turns out a song that sounds like he is not alone!)

In 2006 or '07, Billy took his music (Third Seven) on the road, traveling across country several times and then "over the pond" to Europe and Scandinavia to introduce his music to a new market.  He was quite successful and completed three tours in Europe.

For several years, Billy pretty much stayed local in Bend, Oregon and would hit the road only a few times a year to play in various venues, festivals and has even finished a musical score for a movie short which had plans to open somewhere in the south last year with some success.  He has decided that 12 years on the road has tired him out a bit, so he has slowed down.

I can't understand how the musical brain works.  His dad has the same gift, but I only hear music in my head and can sing a tune here and there, but playing an instrument eludes me.  I am just grateful for the gifts this young man has been given and the creative way he has shared them with the rest of the world.

Billy's dad and I recently moved to Arizona, and in the brutal winter this year, Billy decided to move south with us.  He has been living with us (it is his base) for several months now, picking up some shows in Phoenix and the surrounding areas.  Come summer, he plans to return to Bend and escape the heat of Arizona.  He says, "I'll probably become a Snowbird--escaping the winter for Arizona and the heat for Oregon."

Music is his life!  He knew it early in his life, and with our support he had the courage to follow his dream.  He has managed to make it as successful as he wants it.  He does not crave fame or fortune, his only goal with his music is to bring some joy and sense of belonging to those who care to listen.  He has traveled far and wide and has gathered many friends and loyal fans along the way.  He doesn't ask for much in return, only the joy in his heart that he has pleased someone.

God bless you, son!  I pray you can continue to share your gifts for a good many years to come, if that is your destiny.  And as you continue to mature, I look forward to what new and creative melody you give voice to in the future.

The Nineteenth Year of the Twenty-First Century...

What can we expect from this New Year?  More Joy and laughter?  More never before experienced, jaw-dropping experiences?  More new babies?  Perhaps another wedding or two?  Only God holds the answers to those questions.  I suspect that there will be a smattering of sadness and sorrow thrown into the mix, just for good measure...there always is.  Certainly not to my liking, of course, but it just seems to be the way things work.

At my age, I make no plans...what's the use?  We have everything we could ever need, including our very own new retirement home in Prescott Valley, Arizona.  Our children are all grown, healthy and most of them are raising their own families, or enjoying their grandchildren.  Our Billy never ceases to amaze us with his amazing gifts and his heart of gold; and JerriAnne has the most beautiful spirit and attitude about her.  They are my examples of strength and goodness.  Our health is as good as could be expected for anyone our age.  And I still have my brain, a good measure of my eyesight, most of my hearing and I am able to still put one foot in front of the other and manage to walk around the block without huffing and puffing.

No, we have no wants or needs, except that those gifts that were given to us throughout our lives...you know, family, friends, the Church families we enjoy, and SUNSHINE will never be taken away from us!  Oh, how I love sunshine!  After having been deprived of it for the better part of the last 13 years, I have made up my mind to thoroughly enjoy each and every day of it for whatever allotted time I am allowed to stay on God's beautiful earth.

I plan on smiling more and frowning less; finding the good in everyone and dismissing the bad; thinking more positively and less negatively;  loving more and disliking anything or anyone less; and reading as many books as I can get my hands on, beginning with the Scriptures.  That last one is a challenge for me, because I cannot read as fast as I used to due to the loss of a lot of my vision, but I refuse to give up.

When I reflect upon my blessings and begin "numbering them one-by-one,"I find my list growing longer and longer each and every day.  My life has been full to the brim and I pray that, God willing, this coming year of 2019 will prove that my "cup can run over" and still have room for more.

As Tiny Tim said in "A Christmas Carol," "God Bless Us.  Every One!"