Remembering Gordon B. Hinckley

You would think that when a man is 97 years old, and he is someone that you have never even met in person, you could let him go without too much emotion. But such is not the case with me and President Gordon B. Hinckley. One month ago today, I was in an airplane, landing in Salt Lake City, about the same time that President Hinckley was departing Salt Lake City and this life for good. Earlier that day, I had attended my former ward's sacrament meeting and it happened to be ward conference. Since my records have officially been moved, I didn't participate in the sustainings of the stake and ward officers that occur at ward conference. However, I figured it was alright for me to participate in the sustainings of the general church officers, so I did. I feel honored that I was among one of the last groups of people in the church that had the opportunity to sustain Gordon B. Hinckley as a prophet. This past Sunday was stake conference in our new stake. So I had the opportunity to sustain President Thomas S. Monson as the prophet for the first time. I know that he is the man that the Lord has called and prepared to be the prophet on the earth today. I felt that strongly in my heart as I sustained him. However, I was also surprised to feel, once again, an overwhelming sadness over the loss of President Hinckley. I wouldn't wish him back--I know he is reunited with his wife and other family members and that he is happy. (I don't imagine he is resting much--I'm sure he got right to work there.) No one is more deserving of the happiness I am sure he is enjoying.

So why I am having such a hard time with it? Well, partly because he was such an amazing man. He accomplished so many amazing and wonderful things. Of course he had a lot of help from the Lord, and he would be the first to give all the credit to Him. I get tired thinking of all the things he did-- "The Family: A Proclamation to the World," building the Conference Center, rebuilding the Nauvoo Temple, coming up with the idea of smaller temples, building nearly 50 temples and dedicating even more, and starting the perpetual education fund, to name just a few. So that is part of what makes it hard.

The other part has to do with my children. When my oldest daughter was born, President Ezra Taft Benson was the prophet. But within a month, he passed away and President Howard W. Hunter was sustained as prophet. Because he passed away just 9 months later, my daughter was less than a year old when President Hinckley was sustained as the prophet. As our children have grown, and we have watched general conference every six months, we have made special care to turn their wandering attentions to the TV screen for the prophet's talks. We wanted them to know how special and important the prophet is--how blessed we are to have one on earth in our day. So I've realized that the entire time that I have been a mom--trying to teach my children about the blessing of a modern-day prophet--President Gordon B. Hinckley has been that man. My oldest daughter (almost 14 now) was the one that came home from a fireside with the news of his passing. I was surprised but touched that she was crying. I don't think I realized until then how much of an impact for good he had had in her life. I can't help but feel a deep love for anyone who has helped to nurture the testimonies of my children. I'm sure that my children will grow to love and honor President Monson as they have President Hinckley. But especially for the oldest two, President Hinckley will always hold a special place in their hearts-- and in mine.

Why Monument Valley?

I have always loved photos of Monument Valley. When I was a child, it was because these images brought to mind a place that, to me, was paradise. That place was Arizona--the only physical place on the planet that remained a constant part of my life. Not only was it a physical place that I knew I would always be going back to visit, as my immediate family moved from one state to another every few years, but it was a place in my heart--HOME--because it is where my extended family was--both my Dad and my Mom's families. I told my mom once, after returning from a visit to Arizona, that I was homesick. She said, "How can you be homesick for Arizona? You've never even lived there!" It didn't matter, I was still homesick. My roots were in Arizona. When your ancestors go to a barren desert to homestead and make a place for themselves, the ties to that place get in your gene pool somehow.

Monument Valley has taken on a new significance for me lately. I had always thought that the famous Mitten Buttes were in Arizona. Then I saw a calendar that featured photos of various places in Utah. Lo and behold, one month featured a photo of the Mittens Buttes in Monument Valley. "I can't believe the people that made this calendar made such a big mistake!" I thought. So I decided to do a little research to find out for sure where the Mittens were located--in Arizona or in Utah. Well, this research has turned out to be a little more complicated than I thought. (I may need to go visit the place myself to settle this question once and for all :) ) Some websites seem to indicate that the Mittens are in Utah, others that they are in Arizona. Since Monument Valley straddles the Arizona-Utah border, they could easily be in either one--maybe they are in both.

At any rate, our family can identify with the Mittens Buttes. It is a perfect symbol for our life right now. We aren't sure if we are in Utah or in Arizona. First we were moving to Utah, then we weren't, then we were again. We still (unfortunately) own a small piece of real estate in Arizona and my husband is working for an Arizona company, BUT in their Salt Lake City office. BUT, ironically, at present, the only two contracts the company may be awarded that he would work on are in Arizona. From last May to November most of us were living in Arizona but our medical insurance was Blue Cross Blue Shield of Utah. Now we are all living in Utah, but our medical insurance is Blue Cross Blue Shield of Arizona. So who knows where we are?

Turns out, the Arizona Department of Revenue and the Utah State Tax Commission are equally confused about where we are. Their conflicting rules mean that my husband was a full-year resident of Arizona but a part-year resident of Utah. Trouble is, if that is true, than according to their conflicting rules, we owe both states income tax on all of our income for the entire year and both of them think that the other state should give us the credit for the tax paid to the other state. Now I know why I got a degree in Accounting. It was for just this moment in our life. [That the lowest grade I ever received in college--a "C"--was in my tax accounting class, doesn't worry me. That was just because the professor discovered that someone had stolen and distributed to some of the students a copy of the final exam (no, I was NOT involved in this!) and he was angry. So he rewrote the final exam and as far as most of us could tell, it had nothing to do with the material we had covered in class.]

Sixty Degrees is NOT cold?

One of my Arizona friends suggested I create a blog so that we could stay in touch with all our friends down south. I thought it was a great idea and my life is finally under control enough (for a few seconds, anyway) that I decided to give it a try. We arrived in the glorious state of Utah in the early hours of December 29th, 2007. So far, Utah (the state, not the people) has not been very hospitable. We are told that this has been one of the coldest and snowiest winters in Utah for a long time. Even the natives have been complaining. We have survived two absolute blizzards and countless other snow storms. So much for breaking us into the climate shock easily. But then, we didn't expect it to be easy arriving in the dead of winter. We wouldn't have complained about an unusually mild winter, though. The good news is that we are seeing definite signs of spring, which is such a relief. The bad news is that this LONG winter has in reality been less than two months for us since we spent December in sunny Arizona. Hopefully this was good practice for next winter when (we think!) we will be here for the entire season. Our children have been troopers--considering that in their past life, they considered sixty degrees to be cold. All of you that are laughing at our wimpiness, remember that we braved 115 degrees plus in the summers. And in August it is NOT a dry heat--it is humid as well as hot!

After four months of living with Dad in Utah and the rest of us in Arizona, we are very happy to be together again. We enjoyed attending the BYU Women's and Men's Choir concert at BYU last Friday evening. Our first real date in months (taking care of our injured dog didn't count!)

Our big news today is that we had two showings on our house this past weekend. In the prior eight months before we had one showing. Amazing what a new realtor and dropping your listing price 60K will do for you. No offers yet, though.