Wednesday, May 25, 2016


Over April Conference weekend, my Dad reminded me of the time his family moved from Filer, Idaho to California.  He was 8 - the youngest.  My grandfather (Max) had already driven to California weeks before, leaving the overwhelming job of selling the house, packing said house and moving all belongings in the hands of my grandmother (Hazel James Carver).

I have no idea how this woman found the strength to tackle these monumental tasks by herself.  My dad remembers watching his Mom endure long days of painting, packing, cooking, and cleaning with minimal complaint and with little help from older siblings.  Her strength floors me.  I don't know how she got through it - just like the other major hurdles she overcame during her lifetime.  My sweet Grandmother Hazel did not have an easy life.  And her end was not without a great deal of pain.  

I've been keeping her close to me these past few weeks.  This woman.  My grandmother.

My anxiety over this move is tempered by the simple fact that we're not leaving anyone behind.  My children.  My husband.  We all go together.  

I miss Greg - in a massive way I wasn't expecting.  There is no getting used to this.  The children are busy, but it's not a physical exhaustion/need with little babies that I went through when we were apart for his summer internship during grad school.  This time it's emotional.  I miss my closest friend - his friendship, his company, his common sense.  I miss his brilliant, funny composure that keeps me level headed.

Little steps.  Closer to having our family back together again.  Weeks left... 

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