"Red kites"

I few weeks ago now, I went and saw "We Bought  Zoo."


It was such a great film, one that made you just wanna live life more, and especially love better.


I would be lying if I didn't say I wasn't an emotional mess through the whole thing; imagining myself dying, and Ben and my boys having to go on in life without me.








The dad in the film is so wonderful at trying to keep the mom "alive" for his kids, in helping them remember things about her or things she loved. 

Like red kites. 
Opening day of the zoo (opps spoiler alert) 
they fly red kites. Loved it.


Now seeing as Ben's total left brainess 
(logical, sequential, rational, objective) has to compensate for my total right brainess (random, intuitive, holistic, synthesizing, subjective). Opposites attract, and we're a both kinda extreme--at least together we kinda get a "whole" brain.


So while my Benny loves me to pieces, 
he's far from the "gooshy" type (believe me I've tried).


Where am I going with these ramblings?


Basically, I'm not sure Ben could identify my "red kites". 
As much as he loves me, that type of subtle detail can allude him the way numbers jump outta my brain. 


So incase I die kids(yup, I'm going there!), 
these are the things your mamma loved:


-Your dad. He was the love of my life. He taught me I was worth obsessing over, worth pursuing, worth having.  He was my security, the calm constant in my world of ever flowing feelings and never-ending thoughts. He was my comfort and my quiet reassurance. He filled in my lacks, so very well. And I may have helped a bit with his. He was my place that I was known  well enough, there was no need to hid or pretend. He's the only one who knows the secret of how to elicit a certain out-of-my-control laugh that makes me feel ridiculous but oh so free. He made me realize that eventually two people can be so much a part of one another it's unimaginable that you could have ever existed apart, nor would you ever want to.  He was my Benny, and even writing that in past tense makes my heart plunge.


-I loved my kids. Was nigh on obsessed.
My senses craved you: your cuddles, the way your ever grownign bodies would always find ways to settle into my own elbow nooks and softer spots, moments where we'd just look at each other and both knew you belonged to me. My hands could never feel enough of your perfect skin and pudgy thighs. My lips could not resist covering your cheeks and ears and foreheads, noses, eyelids, belly buttons and toes with kisses, determined to transfer my infactuation from my brimming heart through your little bodies into your souls.


But then those are the obvious ones. Daddy could tell you how much I love you because he loves you too, in that crazy God endowed mommy-daddy way. 
Back to the red-kites...




I prefered rocky shored lakes to sandy beached ocean fronts, anyday.


I loved little flowers from pasture ditches more than elaborate bouqets. 


I loved berries on snowy branches. 


I loved tree leaves that turned brillant red then deep purple in fall. 
But I loved the yellow ones too. 
Spring and Autumn were always trying to teach my the subtle beauty of change, and for their persistance they were beloved best.


I loved lying under Chirstmas trees (especially grandma Bowen's because she always had coloured lights)


I loved the stars in Glenwood (there different-- trust me)


I loved the love that lingers in graveyards. 


I loved cookie dough but hated baking cookies. Hello! it ruins perfectly good dough!


I loved brown sugar. Held the magic of a sandcastle right in your kitchen. White sugar had "no scope for the imagination".


I loved Anne with an "e". She informed my girlhood in such lovely ways.


I could never believe how many people don't like tomatoes! 


I loved moving to music (I think I always wanted to be a dancer, but I was never brave enough, so I ran, drove and cleaned to music instead)


I loved songs with electric guitars mixed with soaring strings.


I loved taking photos. I could never really enjoy anything until I had a camera in my hand. 
I loved how it helped me see life.


I loved pearls. So much more than diamonds. They're the "brunetts" of gems. More classy than flashy. I know I need to start buying some "real jewellery" but the cheap stuff's seems just as pretty.


I loved walking barefoot. Always have. It's best on squishy melty roads (again found in Glenwood, where they'll never splurge for real pavement) or wet long grass in the rain, preferable under drippy leaved trees.


I loved GOOD friendships. And was very impatient waiting for potential friendships to move through all the preliminary stages before you could get the good deep, comfortable, close ones.


I loved learning. Nothing gave me quite as much joy as reading a well written passage or phrase that made me think of something in a whole new way.


I loved the gospel. I could write pages (and much of these very blogposts and my other journals attest to the fact) of my gratitude for the gospel of Jesus Christ in my life. There was very little I would encounter in life that I would not trace back to a gospel principle or doctrine. It connected all truth, no matter where I happened upon it. I came out of many a movie with long metaphors for the gospel and I'd ask your dad, "Didn't you think about that." And he'd look at me life "of course I didn't...I was just watching a movie!" I knew the gospel had ALL the answers if I could just study it out enough. And it does. 
It is everything. Anything worth anything is a part of our Heavenly Father's plan for His children. Frustration and grief crept in the moment I tried to live life not solidly planted on that foundation. Peace and hope flooded in the moment I turned back to the Lord and asked Him to come with me on my journey.


I know God lives. I know He loves us. I know He can make "all things work together for good" as we love Him back.


Pages. I could write pages. 


But instead, I'll shift gears and jot down a few of your dad's red-kites.


He loves opening a fresh bag of chips as we start out on a road trip. 


He loved people relating funny stories and would often laugh so hard, little tears would squeeze out the corners of his eyes... watching your dad laugh at something made you enjoy it even more.


He hated holey socks and detested mildewy towels.


He made the best mash potatoes in the world. I'm not even exaggerating.


He loved him his meats. Like your mamma loved her veggies. We had pretty different tastes (he did get me up to medium salsa:)


He ate cornflakes as a snack...not sure if he loved it...he just wanted anything crunchy. he loved corn nuts. The harder the crunch the better.


He loved to sing. Although he didn't care as much for performing. When he was a teenager he'd harmonize with the vacuum cleaner. He'd also use the family karaoke machine to put songs in higher and higher keys to see if he could hit the high notes without falsetto. On his mission, his companions would always think their voices "blended so well together!" Heck, I thought that..but really it's just him. 



He loved his friends. He is so extremely loyal and rarely saw the need for new friends, because he always made sure his old friends were close by, ready to entertain him and make sure he didn't get too serious about life.


He loved doing our fianances. Planning and researching different options to help make your futures full of opportunity.


He loved getting things done. 
Was so organized and efficient. Diligent. 


He didn't like it, but I always made him call customer support because he just could make it work...he wasn't smoozy but he just made people want to find a solution. 


He was so good at coming up with solutions himself...win-wins. 


He was so willing to sacrifice and give to his family(us and his siblings), it was just automatic in him. He grew up giving and doing for others, putting their needs before his own. It was the first thing that attracted me to him.


He loved the gospel too. In his always diligent way. I'd have stacks of church material all over-- Ensigns, manuals--he preferred reading out a simple blue Book of Mormon. It seemed like he was always finishing up Moroni and headed right back into 1 Nephi again. He knew the names and chronologies so much better than me. I always knew if he'd gotten distracted from scripture study, he wasn't himself. I believe the calm, quiet strength of your father was partly a gift for his diligence in studying the Book of Mormon.


His testimony was clear and direct, just like him. The Lord would sometimes help him embellish a bit when he gave me Priesthood blessings, gave him words to communicate to his complicated, convoluted wife. But he always help me get back to the simplicity of the gospel and the doing (when I'd be tempted to just talk about it).


He loved me. I know I was a challenge for him. We thought so differently. But he demonstrated his love in his service to me, and because of that, when he told me he loved me, I believed him.



Oh and how he loved you. 
The saddest I've EVER seen your father was when he imagined us dying and Aaron not understanding where we went.


I think he sorta thought, having been such a "father-figure" for his younger siblings, especially the three youngest girls, that fatherhood wasn't gonna shock him, that he kinda already "got it"  having experienced it to a degree. I read in his journal (cuz I'm snoopy like that) a few weeks after Aaron was born where he described how overwhelmed he was by how much love and joy he felt being with his child. 


He always cared what each of you wanted. He was so good at not putting any expectations on any of you. He would just follow your lead. He would carry you as babies round the house letting you point which way you wanted to go. 
That was the type of dad he was. He would let you be you, uninhibited by pre-concieved notions of what you ought to be. That was a great lesson he was always teaching me.


Find a spouse you can learn from. Love and learning are both things that can just keep going!


Kinda like this here blog-post. 
Who knew all that was gonna come out of a night at the Movie Mill!


It's been strange writing this in past tense. Didn't even realize I was till half way through. 
Ben and I have been trying to arrange our will, which has proven not as straight forward with Aaron's special and likely on-going needs.


Ben'll make sure all the money stuff gets worked out. 
But I'm the words girl. I want to leave pieces of us. 


Just pieces. 


Little red kite reminders that love is all that really remains.