Chalk footprints on the hot asphalt, licking lips, paper cups, a chorus of bees in flowers, yellow, blue, green, baseball lights in the window, cotton candy disappearing, plastic slides, daydreaming on swings, wood chips, metal counters, crumpled money in denim pockets, climbing chain-link fences, breathe hot air, chlorine fried eyes, light hair, tan lines, the slap of flip-flops, splash, windows down, music on full blast, trampolines, night games, volleyball, picnics at the park, bubble gum popping, hikes up the canyon, lazy hammock naps, smokey clothes, marshmallows, itchy grass, bare feet on the playground, car washes, running, photo shoots, late nights under the stars, cold hose water, popsicles, annoying ice cream truck music, scraped knees, freckles, laughter, scary movies, drive - in candy, slow mornings, City Creek, long car rides, floating in the Salt Lake, talks on the porch, ice crackling in lemonade glasses, "let's go on an adventure", toothy grins, kickball, reading romances on a bench, quiet breezes, tripping over train tracks, burnt cheeks, twirling in loose summer dresses, sleep overs, movie premiers... 60 days... Summer.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Quote of the Week.
Who are you,
really?
You are not a name,
or a height, or a weight,
or a gender.
You are not an age
and you are not where you are
from.
You are your favorite books
and the songs stuck in your head.
You are your thoughts
and what you eat for breakfast
on Saturday mornings.
You are a thousand things
but everyone chooses
to see the million things
you are not.
You are not
where you are from.
You are
where you're going
and I'd to go there
too.
- M.K.
really?
You are not a name,
or a height, or a weight,
or a gender.
You are not an age
and you are not where you are
from.
You are your favorite books
and the songs stuck in your head.
You are your thoughts
and what you eat for breakfast
on Saturday mornings.
You are a thousand things
but everyone chooses
to see the million things
you are not.
You are not
where you are from.
You are
where you're going
and I'd to go there
too.
- M.K.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
I'm a Member.
"Would you even be Mormon if your parents weren't, what if you had a whole new family, would you believe in the things you 'know'?"
This is a very interesting question that my friend asked me recently. I'll be honest when I say that I really don't know whether or not I would be a member of the LDS church had I not been introduced to it by my parents. But isn't this question true with other religions as well? Let's change this question a little bit:
"Would you even be Catholic if you didn't live in Rome?"
"Would you even be Muslim if your parents weren't?"
"Would you even be an Atheist if someone had been taking you to a church since you were young?"
There are so many what-ifs in the world, but honestly do they even matter? You could go on questioning the existence of man-kind and the whole Universe by simply stating 'what-if?'. The thing is, is that my life is the way it is, that's it. I happen to be raised in an LDS family and taught in a Christian world. I can't go back and change everything to see if I would or wouldn't be, that'd be stupid because that's not the point of this life.
I will tell you something though, I may have raised by people of a certain religion, but becoming a member and going to church has always been my choice. My parents didn't force me to get baptized, nobody ever told me that I had to read the Book of Mormon, staying pure for the temple was not for my family's sake. If I told my parents that I didn't want to go to church because I didn't believe, they would never force me to come with them.
I've been friends with people of so many different religions, I've heard lots of reasoning against my beliefs, I've read so many books of Anti-Mormon literature, I've been given thousands of reasons on why I'm wrong. Sometimes Satan would get into my head and reasoning made sense, so I did once stop going to church for awhile. But,
This is a very interesting question that my friend asked me recently. I'll be honest when I say that I really don't know whether or not I would be a member of the LDS church had I not been introduced to it by my parents. But isn't this question true with other religions as well? Let's change this question a little bit:
"Would you even be Catholic if you didn't live in Rome?"
"Would you even be Muslim if your parents weren't?"
"Would you even be an Atheist if someone had been taking you to a church since you were young?"
There are so many what-ifs in the world, but honestly do they even matter? You could go on questioning the existence of man-kind and the whole Universe by simply stating 'what-if?'. The thing is, is that my life is the way it is, that's it. I happen to be raised in an LDS family and taught in a Christian world. I can't go back and change everything to see if I would or wouldn't be, that'd be stupid because that's not the point of this life.
I will tell you something though, I may have raised by people of a certain religion, but becoming a member and going to church has always been my choice. My parents didn't force me to get baptized, nobody ever told me that I had to read the Book of Mormon, staying pure for the temple was not for my family's sake. If I told my parents that I didn't want to go to church because I didn't believe, they would never force me to come with them.
I've been friends with people of so many different religions, I've heard lots of reasoning against my beliefs, I've read so many books of Anti-Mormon literature, I've been given thousands of reasons on why I'm wrong. Sometimes Satan would get into my head and reasoning made sense, so I did once stop going to church for awhile. But,
It has and always will be, MY choice.
My testimony is not my parent's or my grandparent's, it is not my brother's or my friend's, it is not my bishop's. It's mine. I have the knowledge and beliefs that I do because I wanted to have it, by prayer, scripture study, many lessons, life experiences and the true desire to know. When I wanted to truly know, the Holy Ghost didn't leave me on my own, through precious experiences and faith I've come to know that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is of God, and it's where I'm supposed to be. And I'm proud of my religion.
Monday, April 15, 2013
From One Adventure to the Next.
"Garvin Earl Carlile
1933~2013
Bountiful, UT-Garvin Earl Carlile passed away April 13, 2013 from complications of prostate cancer. He was born on the family farm July 25, 1933 in Heber City Utah, the youngest son of Earl Neil and Lula Daybell Carlile. He grew up in Heber City and graduated from Wasatch High in 1951.
He was a veteran of the Korean conflict having served in the US Navy and Naval Reserve. He served a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from 1954 - 1956 in the New England States mission. He married Karen Giles on May 21st 1957 in the Salt Lake Temple. They were blessed with five children and shared 56 wonderful years together. They enjoyed many family activities and traditions together.
He earned a B.S. Degree in Elementary Education as well as a Master Degree in Elementary Administration both from Brigham Young University. He retired from Davis School District in 1995 after 37 years as a teacher, Elementary Principal and District Area Director. He was active throughout his career in educational organizations. He was chosen by his peers as the National Distinguished Principal for the year 1989. That award was presented to him in the Nation's Capital.
He was an active member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He served as a High Counselor, Counselor in the Woods Cross Stake Presidency, Counselor in the Bishopric and Bishop of the Woods Cross 3rd Ward. He was a gifted public speaker and storyteller. He spent many years serving the youth of the church. As an Eagle Scout himself, he loved his years as he served as Scoutmaster. He served as an ordinance worker, counselor in the temple presidency and as a sealer in the Bountiful Utah Temple. He along with his sweetheart served a family history mission in the Birmingham Alabama Mission.
He had a great love for the soil and working with wood. Even though his career took him away from the farm he continued to dig in the dirt. He always had a beautiful garden and lawn. It has been said that you can take the boy out of the country but you can't take the country out of the boy.
He is survived by his wife Karen, 3 sons and 2 daughters, Cheryl & Dan Topham, Mark G & DeAnn Carlile, Celeste & Mathew Watkins, Bryce E & Katie Carlile, David R & Kathryn Carlile, special nephew and niece Garn W & Sue Carlile, 15 grandchildren, 6 great grandchildren, sister Rhea Diamond, brother Brente Carlile. Preceded in death by his parents, sisters Ida Carlile, Marion Hicken and brother Melvin Carlile."
My Grandfather, was and still is an amazing man. Words cannot explain the heartache I've felt this past weekend and I don't think I've ever cried so much. I understand without a doubt that he is somewhere beautiful right now, I know that my Heavenly Father gave him a BIG huge from me, I know that he's talking to his own parents that he has missed and many other loved ones, I know he's no longer in the mortal pain which once crushed him. He is happy. There is nothing anyone could say to me that would make me think that my Grandpa isn't happy.
Even though I know that... It's still really, really hard to think that the man who finally made me believe that I have beauty and worth in so far away that I can't hug him or listen to his stories... But I've been looking through old scrapbooks and all I can think is how I've got one of the best Guardian Angels looking out for me.
It's hard, and it's always going to be a little bit hard, and my family is still going to feel lonely, but I am so grateful for this gospel and the knowledge I have. I don't know how I would make it through this if I thought that I would never get to see his dear face again. To think it was the end. That'd be horrible. But it's not. (: And I want to make him proud, he's such an example and I want to be able to meet him again being clean and pure. ♥
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Goodbyes.
When she was born, her family wasn't rich. Not rich in the sense of money. There was lots of moving from place to place, houses and neighborhoods became blurs mixed together. At one point her mom had cancer and she learned what it was like to truly be scared. She was never the crazy girl who was friends with everyone, making friends was hard for her, she was shy. Small, quiet... she had a thin string of friends, usually one or two, sometimes none at all. She spent a lot of time at home because at home it didn't matter what she looked like, how she acted... No, she was never rich.
But at the same time she was. Her family was knit tight from all the struggles, so her older brother was her best friend for a long time. They shared a room in most of the houses, sleeping on the same creaky, wooden bunk bed. He always go the top, and she was always on the bottom, that was just how it was, and she liked it like that. In the night, he would hang over the side of the bed and they would talk to each other until all the blood rushed to his head.
There was this old tape recorder from when there mom was a teenager and they would use it and pretend like they had a news channel. They could speed up the recordings and laugh their heads off because they sounded like chipmunks. When she was 6 they lived in the basement of her Nana and Papa's house, in the backyard there was a red and white tree house. Everyday they would spend time in there, she even made curtains so they could stay in there while it rained. Together they made sling-shots and pretended they were spies, it was a second home to them.
When she was 7 they had an obsession with building forts. Using tables, blankets and huge stacks of books as weights, they make precarious stretches of what seemed like luxurious mansion. They sneak Graham crackers and Life cereal into make-shift pantries, in the night they'd lay on the old green carpet and hang a flashlight so they could play Pokemon together.
He was sometimes mean to her and they'd fight, ending up with bruises and scratches. But in the end he was the one that found her crying on the staircase when she'd had a nightmare and hugged her. It wasn't a mistake that they were put in the same family... In Elementary he was bullied, a lot, every day he'd come home from school hurt and broken, he was a little bit weird, and he was tormented endlessly by people who didn't understand. She spent time alone at recess, so when they came home they had each other.
As they grew up into teenagers, moving stopped happening, and they were able to make friends with people who cared about them. They had two younger siblings now and no longer shared a room. He became more confident and was the one making the family laugh at the dinner table. She still was the reserved girl that she had been when she was little, but she found people who were okay with her, and at the same time they were able to help her be a little crazier. But if something bad happened they were still the other's life line, he still came into her bedroom every evening and talked to her about everything, or sometimes they wouldn't even talk, they'd just read together.
On some of those nights they'd talk about what they wanted to be when they were older. She wanted to be a nurse, then an architect, then a writer, then an engineer, then a teacher, then a pharmacist. He wanted to be a basketball player, then a musician, then a soccer player, then he began talking about being a soldier. She didn't believe him, every boy wants to be a soldier at some point right? As he began his Junior year of high school he talked about being a cop, and joined the Military program at his school, one day he came home in Army uniform, and suddenly he looked like a man. She began to realize it wasn't a phase as one night he came in and said, "This is what I want, after all this time of wondering, I know who I want to be." She was proud of him and looked up to his courage, over just 7 months he'd grown up.
Then came the catch, he was allowed to begin his service at the age of 17. Meaning, that he would be leaving to South Carolina in the summer to start Basic Training. He was going to leave. She cried as she watched her hero get sworn into the National Guard, Private Carlile. She knew he had grown up, but she had forgotten that when you grow up... you leave...
... I could never be more proud of my older brother, and I'm so happy he found something that makes him happy. But my heart kind of breaks thinking he'll be gone, I know it's just the summer, but even training is dangerous, and it's just another step closer to an even bigger goodbye...
But at the same time she was. Her family was knit tight from all the struggles, so her older brother was her best friend for a long time. They shared a room in most of the houses, sleeping on the same creaky, wooden bunk bed. He always go the top, and she was always on the bottom, that was just how it was, and she liked it like that. In the night, he would hang over the side of the bed and they would talk to each other until all the blood rushed to his head.
There was this old tape recorder from when there mom was a teenager and they would use it and pretend like they had a news channel. They could speed up the recordings and laugh their heads off because they sounded like chipmunks. When she was 6 they lived in the basement of her Nana and Papa's house, in the backyard there was a red and white tree house. Everyday they would spend time in there, she even made curtains so they could stay in there while it rained. Together they made sling-shots and pretended they were spies, it was a second home to them.
When she was 7 they had an obsession with building forts. Using tables, blankets and huge stacks of books as weights, they make precarious stretches of what seemed like luxurious mansion. They sneak Graham crackers and Life cereal into make-shift pantries, in the night they'd lay on the old green carpet and hang a flashlight so they could play Pokemon together.
He was sometimes mean to her and they'd fight, ending up with bruises and scratches. But in the end he was the one that found her crying on the staircase when she'd had a nightmare and hugged her. It wasn't a mistake that they were put in the same family... In Elementary he was bullied, a lot, every day he'd come home from school hurt and broken, he was a little bit weird, and he was tormented endlessly by people who didn't understand. She spent time alone at recess, so when they came home they had each other.
As they grew up into teenagers, moving stopped happening, and they were able to make friends with people who cared about them. They had two younger siblings now and no longer shared a room. He became more confident and was the one making the family laugh at the dinner table. She still was the reserved girl that she had been when she was little, but she found people who were okay with her, and at the same time they were able to help her be a little crazier. But if something bad happened they were still the other's life line, he still came into her bedroom every evening and talked to her about everything, or sometimes they wouldn't even talk, they'd just read together.
On some of those nights they'd talk about what they wanted to be when they were older. She wanted to be a nurse, then an architect, then a writer, then an engineer, then a teacher, then a pharmacist. He wanted to be a basketball player, then a musician, then a soccer player, then he began talking about being a soldier. She didn't believe him, every boy wants to be a soldier at some point right? As he began his Junior year of high school he talked about being a cop, and joined the Military program at his school, one day he came home in Army uniform, and suddenly he looked like a man. She began to realize it wasn't a phase as one night he came in and said, "This is what I want, after all this time of wondering, I know who I want to be." She was proud of him and looked up to his courage, over just 7 months he'd grown up.
Then came the catch, he was allowed to begin his service at the age of 17. Meaning, that he would be leaving to South Carolina in the summer to start Basic Training. He was going to leave. She cried as she watched her hero get sworn into the National Guard, Private Carlile. She knew he had grown up, but she had forgotten that when you grow up... you leave...
... I could never be more proud of my older brother, and I'm so happy he found something that makes him happy. But my heart kind of breaks thinking he'll be gone, I know it's just the summer, but even training is dangerous, and it's just another step closer to an even bigger goodbye...
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