A letter to my Children

My Dear Children,

Although the summer is three weeks in our past, I couldn’t leave it behind without a few parting thoughts.

This was the summer we ate the most delicious bread in the world.  Do you remember the day we enjoyed pastries, gelato, giant soft pretzels dipped in sugar, and éclairs (all in one day!)? Do you remember walking to the bread shop in Munster on the cobblestone sidewalks and ordering practically one of everything?

This was the summer we climbed the steps of Notre Dame helping CJ look for Quasimodo. We gasped as the lights of the Eiffel Tower twinkled, and we huddled together in the cold wind. 

This was the summer Tman, Meya, and CJ were introduced to Utah. I loved watching you all play barefoot in the creek for hours at the park near Aunt Connie’s house.

We ended our “Musical fast” and went to two shows: Ragtime and Mulan. Joy!

This was the summer of your first concert: Kelly Clarkson and Carly Rae Jepson at the Stadium of Fire. We boogied and sang in the stands. Your faces reflected the lights of the fireworks: red, green, blue, and yellow. I cried as they offered a prayer for the Americans serving overseas and thought of your Dad.

This was the summer of a long drive to and from St. George on wonderfully open roads. Madi, you kept me company while the rest of the children slept. Remember “no services” in Holden, the mirage town? Beaver – voted as having the best water in the country? “I spy…sage brush.” Remember watching the sky fall in sheets of grey from mountainous clouds?

This was the summer of tender mercies – Heavenly Father allowed us to see our dear friends the Andersons and the Petersons. An afternoon at a park, a dinner on the 4^th of July, and a reunion at Olive Garden.

This was the summer of the calico critter zombie musical. The summer of “The One and Only Ivan.” Who knew a story about a gorilla and elephant could tug on my heart? And this was the summer we realized just how much Jakarta has become “home to us.”

Sure, there was the storm and flood near Paris when we thought we were going to die (for real). And of course the elephant-ankles after the 30 hours of air travel. There was the broken-but-not-broken air conditioner in the car and the horrendously expensive car rental. There was also the lost camcorder and iphone which still makes me nauseous. And of course, there was the last 12 hours in America when I did "the chicken" (squawking with flapping arms) in a panic because of the stress of packing. But in spite of these less than stellar moments, when I look back on the summer, I find myself wondering just what I could have done to deserve this much joy.

Thank you for spending the best summer of my life with me.  

Love,

Mom