would that I could

“Would” is an interesting word and used in certain ways can have an unintended meaning.  For example, “We would ask that you park on the north side of the building,” Implies that if the circumstances were different, we would ask that of you, but since they aren’t, well, go ahead and do whatever you want.”  Rather than say, “We would ask that you park on the north side of the building,”  say simply, “We ask that you park on the north side of the building.”  Or even better, “Please park on the north side of the building.”   

                We often hear the phrase, “I would agree with you.”  This is rather non-committal and I am often tempted to ask, “You WOULD agree with me, or you DO agree with me?  You would agree with me if I were to change my mind about it?  You would agree with me if no one else were around to hear you say it?  What is it you are saying, exactly?”

                 A popular hymn says, “Lord, I would follow Thee,” which implies, “If things were different, I would follow Thee…”  “If it were easier, I would follow Thee…”  “If I didn’t have better things to do, I would follow Thee…”  I think that word, more often than not, should be replaced with the word “will.”  It ups the level of commitment considerably from “I would if I could, but I can’t,”  to “Yes! Of course I will!”

If only...

A long while ago I started a series of posts about the English language and its demise (see posts titled “The English Monster” and “So What”).  Perhaps now is a good time to continue the series, as we prepare to start school once again.

                One of the most misplaced words in the English language is the word “only.”  A classic is “You only live once,” which, of course, should be, “You live only once” (since living isn’t the only thing one does only once).  Another is, “I only have eyes for you” Which would mean more if worded, “I have eyes for only you.”  The word “only” is an adjective and should be placed in a sentence right before the word it is qualifying.  For example, “I only have six dollars,” should be,  “I have only six dollars.” The number six is the word that “only” is describing.

                 “Only” is often misplaced in advertisements, “This sale only happens once a year” (the sale doesn’t end, it only happens?).  “You only pay shipping and handling” (you only pay, you don’t get anything?).  “You can only find it at Walmart”  (you cannot buy it there?).    

                My children had a poster in their rooms while growing up titled, “My Gospel Standards,” one of which is “I will only listen to music that is pleasing to Heavenly Father.”  You can imagine my frustration; I think it is also acceptable to “play”  or “dance to” or “sing” music that is pleasing to Heavenly Father.  I noticed that the poster has been updated and now includes, “I will only read and watch things that are pleasing to Heavenly Father.”  Where does that leave those who want to “write” or “speak” or “do” things that are pleasing to Heavenly Father? 

                And so, as you mind your Ps and Qs, watch that you put “only” only where it belongs…

Holidays

                During that shadowy time between sleep and waking, as my mind gradually enters consciousness, I orient myself to where I am and also to when I am.  I lay hold on what day of the week it is, so as to know how to approach the day; is it a school day, the Sabbath day…  I also try to grasp the time of year, the season, so as to know what I can expect from the weather.  All this wheel-turning happens in a few seconds and it usually doesn’t take long to become oriented for the day.  But I have noticed that the last year or so it has been taking longer to wrap my mind around the time of year.  And I think I know why.

                Losing  Jesse has lowered my emotional capacity to celebrate.  This is understandable as part of the grieving process.  I have not had the emotional energy one needs to decorate the house for each holiday, plan special meals for special days, share special treats with neighbors and friends.  For example, it used to be that we hosted an Independence devotional/breakfast for our neighbors each 4^th of July.  This year I did nothing but peak through the curtains after dark to see a few minutes of fireworks off in the distance.  It is not that I appreciate my country less (although I will admit I am very worried about what is happening right now), but I just didn’t want/need any more celebrating than that.

                But what has happened to me during that shadowy time each morning has taught me the importance of celebrating holidays.  Holidays are the way we emotionally mark the passage of time; they are the mile markers of our lives. Special days give us something to look forward to, and we tend to remember events in our lives according to the happenings of special days: remember that Christmas when…  that happened on Labor Day… I know it was before Halloween… 

                During this past year or so that I have not celebrated (or only minimally celebrated) any holidays it has been difficult for me to pinpoint the progress of my days and I find myself almost confused at times, “Memorial Day is coming up, no, that was last month. How come I didn’t remember that?  Oh, that’s right, I didn’t do anything to celebrate…”

                Now that I have realized these things, I can be more aware of my need to celebrate, and perhaps muster the emotional energy it takes to “rejoice and be glad.”  Perhaps, too, celebrating will help the healing process. 

quilts...

This quilt was made for a friend's new baby, born the same week as my new grandson.

 This turtle quilt was made for my new grandson, Jesse Hakan Ricks.

 This quilt was made for our recently released Relief Society president, Debbie Lapioli.  Members of the Relief Society signed their names on the back.

 These quilt blocks are just some of the ones I made to use up my enormous amount of scraps.  I made this twin-sized quilt for my granddaughter, Kaitlyn, but I think Mia has it on her bed.

 This lap quilt was made from my stash and given to Myrna Cintron as a going away gift.

 "Sea Turtles"  made for my grandson, Dallin