Weekend at Bear Lake 2020

Last week featured the annual family trip up to Bear Lake for a few days' worth of rest and relaxation. Mom again rented out a house for three days and three nights, this time in Garden City (the past two years were spent at a different house in nearby Laketown). It was a great location, featuring a nice breeze coming in from the lake and a good amount of shade in the afternoons and early evenings.

Day 1: We made the drive up through Sardine and Logan canyons just in time for check-in at 4:00 p.m. We had Papa Murphy's pizza for dinner and played a few games of cribbage (something JB and I recently started playing) that evening.

Day 2: Our first full day at the lake included boating for those who went out on the water and kayaking for those staying closer to the shore. I did some reading while watching the Jazz vs. Nuggets playoff game in the main gathering room. JB, Ben, Adi, and I prepared the fixings for tacos/nachos for dinner that evening.

Biz captured this candid shot of me cutting up black olives:

After a run downtown for raspberry shakes (when in Rome and all that), we also provided the ingredients for s'mores around the fire pit.

Four-month-old Sadie (not too surprisingly) was the object of many people's attention throughout our trip.

Day 3: I got outside a little more for some additional reading (Judy Blume and Beverly Cleary marathon---yes, really) to observe more of the fun had by those playing in the water. On this day, we had access to both jetskis and a water trampoline. JB and I made a run to Zipz for Dole whips and raspberry shakes.

Pulled pork sandwiches and corn on the cob were on the menu for dinner. Afterward, we posed for family photos in our matching green shirts Mom had printed up for the occasion.

Steve and Summer prepared a number of "Minute to Win It" challenges for the final group activity of the week. I enjoyed partnering up on a team with Biz, (sister-in-law) Jana, Jake, and Luke; we took second place out of four teams.

One of our favorite events was the sticky note challenge, during which we had a minute to place as many sticky notes as we could onto our faces. JB took first place with 17 sticky notes; I was second and was able to keep 13 on my face.

I had a bit of insomnia later on, but fortunately one of the TV channels was showing a "Parks and Recreation" marathon while I pored over more Beverly Cleary.

Day 4: After a breakfast of yogurt and fruit, we packed up and were on our way home before our 10:00 a.m. checkout time. We headed back through Logan Canyon into Logan, where some jumped up to Smithfield to visit Dad's grave, and others stopped at Gossner's for squeaky cheese and other goodies.

All in all, it was another enjoyable family summer vacation, and we look forward to Bear Lake again in 2021.

Never Really Gone

With only 13(!) days remaining in the year 2017, I look back today at the year that was. And I'm amazed at what an incredible year it's been and just how much can change in only 365 days.

Paco hasn't blogged all that much this year, as a friend pointed out to me earlier today. Other than putting up a number of family photos (really one of the most important things I think I could do) and "postcard" posts, that is. This is true. Hopefully, a lack of original blogging this year has been at the expense of a greater good in my day-to-day life.

I have had my new job for almost a year now, one I was searching for a year ago at this time. I'm free from debt (knock on wood). I have done a lot more improv and have expanded my horizons, performing with new people in my troupe (while others have moved on), and like two snowflakes, no two performances have yet been the same. I even got out of town for a rare weekend for someone who doesn't take many vacations these days; yes, I even made it to the Idaho side of Bear Lake!

Every day, I wake up, get out of bed, and accomplish daily tasks, while working on monthly and yearly goals. I am reminded of the great blessing inherent in this simple fact. Goodreads just reminded me that I have read 27 books in 2017 (which will be 28 by week's end), or approximately one book every two weeks. One of those books was the Book of Mormon, which I have now read . . . I don't know how many times. I began this latest read-through in February and completed it in October.

I was involved in two car accidents in July and September, neither one my fault: rear-ended both times. I am incredibly grateful I was not injured any worse than I was (whiplash only). My car, however, required nearly $3,000 in repairs.

Like the citizens in Whoville who cry out to Horton: "I am here!" I'm still breathing. I am still ticking. In spite of the challenges I face and those I have overcome, as well as those yet to be overcome, I am grateful to be here.

Oh, and the most significant happenings of the year have occurred family wise. First and foremost, I have a fiancée(!) with whom I'd gone out on two dates a year ago today. How did I get here? How did I ever get to be so richly blessed? I may not learn the answers for a while yet. Still, it's yet another reason my heart is full of gratitude at this holiday season and my cup runneth over.

In the past three months, I've been blessed with two new nephews. The nibling count is up to 14! They are the most amazing kids an uncle could ask for.

Last but not certainly not least, one of the most important happenings of the year 2017: We lost Dad in April after a lengthy battle with dementia. Earlier today, I drove past the place where I last saw him in this mortal sphere. On that day, I had the chance to spend some time with him, embrace him, and tell him once again, "I love you." Within a few, short hours, he was gone. I will be forever grateful for the prompting to go and see him that day, to not put it off until another time.

The jogging of that memory saddened me once again for a brief moment today. We recently had our first Thanksgiving in which his chair was empty. Just a couple of weeks ago, his namesake, Tanner Brent, was given his name and blessing. And now we are in the midst of our first Christmas season without Dad. For me, the wound is a bit fresh still.

Also today, I found myself reflecting on a scene in Star Wars: The Last Jedi, which I saw for a second time (there will definitely be a few more in the coming weeks; go figure!) last night.

STOP READING HERE IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE YET AND DON'T WANT TO READ WHAT MAY BE A MINOR SPOILER.

When Luke visits Leia, and he hands her a trinket of Han's that hung in the Millennium Falcon, he reminds her that those we love who depart our mortal existence are "ever really gone."

THIS IS THE POINT AT WHICH THE POTENTIAL SPOILER ENDS AND YOU MAY KEEP READING IF YOU WISH.

When I returned home from completing various tasks today, there was this incredibly beautiful poem on the doorstep, gifted by one of our neighbors down the street:

The girl who delivered this, I am told, lost her own mother when just three months old, after which, just a couple of years ago, she also lost her stepmother to cancer. I believe this girl is wise beyond her years. I'm speechless at this incredible gesture.

Without trying to sound too much like Linus in "A Charlie Brown Christmas," that's really what this Christmas season is all about; that those we lose, because of the holy child born in Bethlehem, are never really gone. And that is basically the greatest gift we could ever receive from an all-wise, all-loving Father in Heaven. With the birth of this baby is the gentle reminder that death, too, is part of the plan.

One day, we, too, will each spend our first Christmas with the Lord. In the meantime, I'm grateful to spend this one with all of you, to "have . . . a merry little Christmas now."

"And so, as Tiny Tim observed: God bless us, every one!"

Two Lessons from Omni

I'm reading the Book of Mormon again this year, and I'm learning things that possibly I hadn't learned before. Or things about which I needed a reminder.

Consider the book of Omni. It may be just one chapter. In one sense, it's a lot of record keepers writing only one or two verses and then passing the plates onto the next record keeper in a sort of game of Gospel Hot Potato. In fact, it's the only book in the Book of Mormon named after a guy who wasn't all that great of a guy.

Anyhow, two things stuck out big-time when I read Omni.

In Omni 1:2, we read about Omni himself: "But behold, I of myself am a wicked man, and I have not kept the statutes and the commandments of the Lord as I ought to have done."

To me, these are some of the saddest words a human being could ever think or write. Regret is hell on Earth.

I think about my own experiences with regret, and I feel for Omni. I want to believe he still had time to turn things around after recording this assessment of his own character. And when I do so, I recommit myself to being a better human being afterward. I'm grateful for an Atonement that helps to wipe away the pain of regret and for second chances that help prevent possible future regret.

The second lesson is in the Nephites' discovery of the people of Mulek at Zarahemla. As the two peoples merge to become one group, Amaleki notes that the people of Zarahemla "had become exceedingly numerous . . . (but) their language had become corrupted; and they had brought no records with them; and they denied the being of their Creator; and Mosiah, nor the people of Mosiah, could understand them" (v. 17).

In short, the Nephites both (1) had the brass plates and (2) had kept a record, while the Mulekites had done neither. As a result, the Nephites were far better off, while the Mulekites lived in ignorance and apathy resulting from carelessness.

In other words, those who ignore the lessons of history are doomed to repeat them. Not having the brass plates (scriptures) was devastating to the Mulekites, both spiritually and morally, while having the plates had blessed the Nephites. Education is an important gift for one generation to pass down to the next. And so forth.

It's amazing, time and again, how all of this was written "For Our Day."

The Dementors of Tryptophan

Following the conclusion of Thanksgiving dinner, the last football game of the day, and my tryptophan-induced nap, I settled down to get a little reading done Thursday night. I'm currently making my way through the Harry Potter series for the first time ever.

(Insert here reaction of horror and/or dismay and chants of "Unclean! Unclean!")

The initial waves of Harry Potter mania passed me by for one reason or another, possibly because I was technically already an adult when the books began to take the world by storm. I did, however, often attend midnight premieres (this is a thing we did Back in My Day, kids) of the movies with my siblings and their friends, and I always enjoyed them even though I did not necessarily understand the cause behind all of the jubilation. Likewise, I had a enjoyable experience seeing the spin-off film Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them last week.

Once upon a time, I also researched and wrote (and published) a brief biography on J.K. Rowling for a work project. I remain rather impressed with what she has been able to accomplish as an author and as a philanthropist, overcoming some rather difficult circumstances to get where she is.

Anyway, I'm a filthy Muggle, but I've been trying to atone for that. Currently, I'm onto the third entry in the series, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. The books have not quite yet reached Lord of the Rings or Star Wars levels of symbolism for me yet; nevertheless, I did find myself empathizing with the characters when they first meet the dementors of Azkaban on the Hogwarts Express. These are the characters who, in their initial encounter with our heroes, bring only despair and misery.

Here are a few passages that describe their encounter:

"The thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings."

"The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart. . . . He couldn't see. He was drowning in cold. He was being dragged downward."

"'It was horrible,' said Neville. . . . 'Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?'"

"'I felt weird,' said Ron, shifting his shoulder uncomfortably. 'Like I'd never be cheerful again.'"

"He felt weak and shivery, as though he were recovering from a bad bout of the flu; he also felt the beginnings of shame. Why had he gone to pieces like that, when no one else had?"

One thing I learned about J.K. Rowling in my research was that she had lived through periods of major depression, and that she created the dementors as a representation of what the illness feels like. Having been through more than one episode myself, I concur wholeheartedly that the dementors very accurately represent what depression is like.

I've heard more than one person (including one in a sacrament meeting talk Sunday) remark that 2016 has been a really tough year. That's certainly been the case for me. I've learned or re-learned the lesson that problems and trials don't really ever go away completely; they just come at you in different forms. One month it's dementors, and the next it's three-headed dogs or Mandrakes or what-have-you. And I've also been reminded through an extremely difficult period of time that my own personal battle with my own dementors is not over, and it's not something that's "cured" like other illnesses; it's a fight I'll have to continue every day for the rest of my life in one way or another.

Even so, as I took in this message on Thanksgiving Day, having also had my parents (one of whom was not home for the holidays last year), my siblings, my nieces and nephews, and even two of my three favorite puppies around me for a good portion of the day, I couldn't help but realize how immensely blessed I have been this year, too. They are my favorite people in the world. In fact, my cup runneth over in many, many ways.

There are parts of my life that remain incomplete, but though the dementors would have me focus on those, I am trying to choose instead to focus on what I do have, and to control the things I can control. If my own experiences with the dementors haven't helped me to be more understanding, more patient, more kind, and more grateful, then those lessons have been wasted; but I'm trying to make sure they are never lost.

Another message given in the book, once the attack has been thwarted, is that eating chocolate helps you to feel better. Which is also 100 percent correct.

Weekends, Holidays, and All Throughout May

"I before E, EXCEPT after C,
And when sounding like A, as in neighbor and weigh,
And on weekends and holidays and all throughout May,
And you'll always be wrong, NO MATTER WHAT YOU SAY!"
 -Brian Regan

With some people, you just can't win. No matter what you do, no matter what you say, no matter how you act, and/or no matter how kindly you try to treat them, in spite of their rudeness and/or indifference, they will always be infallible, and you will always be a babbling idiot.

I have a co-worker like this right now. I've tried to get along with this person to the best of my ability. He never says simple, polite things such as "please" or "thank you." Whenever any kind of discrepancy, miscommunication, or other type of problem arises, he always sighs, frowns, shakes his head, and says something such as, "You people in the office!"

When this happens, I pick up my three-hole punch and smash in his teeth.

Actually, that's what I would do if left to my own devices and I weren't, in reality, the loveable, gentle, forgiving, humble soul you all know.

Have you ever dated a person who falls into the category of someone who always has to be right, and this at the expense of you always being wrong? I have, and it doesn't do much for your self-esteem to have this constantly going on.

Earlier today, I read something about Pres. Franklin D. Roosevelt and the fact that, apparently, from the outset of their marriage, his wife apparently criticized and belittled him for decades on end. My heart went out to the guy when I read that. Not a happy place to be, in spite of all of the philandering he took part in (which the book also discusses).

It's tough to turn the other cheek in these moments and while dealing with toxic people like these. But, often, it's really the only option. If you let it, something like this can spoil your entire day.

I'm trying not to let that happen, one encounter at a time. Throughout May and during the rest of the year, as well.

To Everything, Turn, Turn, Turn . . .

"And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse."
 -Malachi 4:6

A very interesting Facebook post appeared among my notifications last week, from which I learned that, with the touch of just a few buttons, I could learn whom among the members of the Island of Misfit Toys I am related to distantly. It was a very educational and enlightening experience.

Among the members of my very own ward, I have a sixth cousin, an eighth cousin, as well as several ninth, tenth, and eleventh cousins. I have even, years ago, been out on a date with *gasp!* one of my ninth cousins.

Further, this link on FamilySearch also allows you to see which famous politicians, inventors, innovators, writers, singers, etc. are part of your family tree. I was intrigued and delighted to find out that among my many cousins are:

President John Adams (4th cousin, 8 times removed)
Susan B. Anthony (6th cousin, 4 times removed)
President Franklin D. Roosevelt (7th cousin, 2 times removed)...
Thomas Edison (7th cousin, 3 times removed)
The Wright Brothers (7th cousin, 4 times removed)
Buster Keaton (8th cousin, 3 times removed)
Prime Minister Winston Churchill (9th cousin, 5 times removed)
President Thomas Jefferson (9th cousin, 5 times removed)
Walt Disney (9th cousin, 5 times removed)
Amelia Earhart (10th cousin, 3 times removed)
Elvis Presley (13th cousin)

In LDS circles, I have connections to President George Albert Smith (4th cousin), President Brigham Young (6th cousin), Elder Neal A. Maxwell (8th cousin)—and even the Prophet Joseph and Hyrum Smith (8th cousins), to name just a few.

What does this have to do with the above scripture? Well, from my experience, I have felt some sort connection to several of these people in the past few years—several of whom I come to find out are somehow, albeit distantly, part of my family tree.

Last summer, for example, I read John Adams's lengthy-but-very-educational biography and loved it. I have also read and enjoyed biographies of Presidents Young and Smith and of Elder Maxwell in the past few years. For an ongoing work project, I have researched and written biographies/profiles of Anthony, Churchill, Disney, Earhart, Edison, Jefferson, and the Wright brothers. A couple of years ago, I also discovered the silent comedic films of Buster Keaton and became an immediate fan.

In other words, I've been or become interested in many of these people and their exploits somewhat recently. Last week, I came to find out we are connected even more closely than by ideas and ideals. It makes me wonder whether the hearts are already turning and we're not completely aware of it happening. Maybe the same thing is happening to you and you're not quite aware right now just how or why at this moment, but all will be made clear someday.

Could it all be a coincidence? Perhaps.

Then again, perhaps not.