To Moms I know: An open letter on Mother's Day

"I could spend a lot of days at uncle dregger's house and going to Zion and swimming in the pool but eventually I would miss mommy and want to come home." -Mathis

Mathis told me that as we were driving back from St George at the end of what could only be described as a three day 'Peter Pan in Neverland' style weekend that involved seventy two straight hours of backyard BBQs, swimming pools, movies and popcorn till the wee hours of the morning, donuts for breakfast and hiking in Zion National Park.  In short, an eleven year old boy's dream vacation.  The fact that we would be returning home to an empty house and Jennifer in Canada for another week after our arrival was obviously weighing on his mind.  I could totally relate, sometimes you just want to go home and when you get there, more than anything, you want to find your mom.  

I'm sure that week for Mathis was torture and the reason I'm sure of this is because I got a daily update from him, a regular peak at his growing emotional imbalance:  "Six more days of life without mommy."  "Five more days till mommy gets home."  "My good thing is, mommy will be here in four more days."  "Just think, in three more days... "  And so it went.  And again I could relate.  Sometimes a kid (of any age) just needs his mom.  My personal running total of days without my mom would require a calculator and frankly I'm not inclined to do that sad math, it's sufficient to say that I have lived longer without her in my life than with her in it.  That's a somber statistic on any day but especially today.   It does however give me cause to reflect on who my mom was and the effect she had on my life and the person I became.  

I remember she was interested, she wanted to be a part of our lives to know what we were doing, when how and why we were doing it, both to keep us out of trouble and to stay connected with us.  As a teen-ager I resented it and later, when it was no longer there, I missed it.  Little things meant a lot to my mom.  She was sentimental in the way moms are. She kept the cards we made in primary and the poems we wrote in elementary school.  I remember the easiest way to make her day was just to give her a big hug.  Again, the older I got, the more reluctant a participant I was.

Jo Ann Ivie Larsen October 30, 1943 - February 16, 1988

But as I look back on the impact she had on me, I can say just about without exception that every unwise act I've performed, every bad decision I've made, every thoughtless or insensitive word I've spoken were all things I knew better than to do, say or make and the reason I knew better was because I had a good mom.  And she was that, a good mom.  Now as I think about it, that may be the best compliment I could give anybody.  I used to reserve 'you're a poet and a scholar' as my highest praise for anybody (Jon, you're a poet and a scholar... no, really, you are.) but 'you're a good mom' surpasses it in every conceivable way. The Irish philosopher Edmund Burke stated that "All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing."  Setting aside for a moment the fact that this statement disregards the existence of half of humanity, it also dismisses the fact that without good moms there are no good men (or good women).  It all begins and hinges on the influence of good moms.  And while the time I had with my own good mom was far too short, my life has been and is full of good moms who continue to inspire me.  And so in gratitude I wanted to take a moment today to let those good moms in my life know how much they have meant and mean to me.

To Carolyn and Elenor.  




There have been so many big, beautiful and important moments in my life that my mom missed: wedding days, graduations, birth of grand kids, blessings and baptisms.  You've been there for all of it.  And though I know my mom would have gladly given up that part of eternity to be there herself, I also know she would be comforted in the knowledge that I wasn't there alone, that there was somebody to stand there with me and she would be grateful for you.  



Because she can't say it herself, I'll say it for her.  Thank you.  Thank you for the big life changing moments as well the small celebrations and for doing the little things moms and grandmas know how to do. 

Thank you for sewing Christmas stockings and thank you for the cards for my kids, not just on birthdays and major holidays but on the small ones too.  






Thank you for making the effort to keep my mother's memory and legacy alive by finishing the quilt she started 




and for insisting that Jennifer needed to go to whatever lengths necessary to restore her rocking chair.  




Thank you for being there in her place but not trying to replace her. 

Through  more more than twenty years of surrogacy you've earned the right to rid yourselves of the cold and dismissive pre-fixes and suffixes of 'step' and 'in-law' that sully the hard won title of mother. You've just been moms, good ones and even better grand-moms.

To my sister-in-law Erin whose life map, to put it delicately, featured more than one unexpected off ramp and detour. But through it all she has kept her faith, her sanity and in the process surely taught her daughters many lessons about finding inner strength when life doesn't turn out as you thought it would. Also, that perseverance and independence aren't just admirable character strengths but necessary qualities that every mom and every woman needs    Erin, you're a resilient woman and a good mom.

To my sister-in-law Linda, whom I met the same day Nigel did and have had the pleasure of observing first hand the refining effect she has had on my younger brother. Linda began the renaissance of musical talent in the Larsen families (a legacy from my grandpa Ivie that managed to leapfrog our generation) by raising two phenomenally talented daughters.  She also raised a son who manages to fully express the semi-recessive sensitivity* gene he received from his father.  Linda you are the music, art and culture that Nigel's life would otherwise lack.  And you're a good mom.  

* I'm allowed to give Nigel a hard time because I love him.  In freshman English at BYU I was asked to write an essay about my hero and I wrote without irony or sarcasm about Nigel.  Nigel is wicked smart, generous, kind, athletic, mechanically inclined, easy-going and occasionally (as Linda will attest) somewhat emotionally unavailable.  But other than that one flaw?  He really is a mensch and somebody you want to know.  But this post is for Mother's Day, not Nigel's Day, not that there is a Nigel's Day but maybe there should be?  I mean there are days for everything.  There's actually a National Insurance Agent Day (yep, June 28th if you were curious, still plenty of time to something nice if you're of a mind) so why not a Nigel Day?  I should look into that...  but I digress, it's what I do.

To my sister-in-law Lisa, whose struggles and eventual success at having children reminded us all what a rare blessing and sacred trust it is to be a parent.  Lisa, you are the perfect bookend to my youngest brother dregger.  There is no uncle dregger without aunt Lisa and no aunt Lisa without uncle dregger.  You have a dog and a pool and a movie theater in your house and because of all those things my kids will always think you are the coolest aunt (ever).  But that all pales when compared to the fact that you are a good mom.

To my sister-in-law Joanne who was given the white elephant-like burden of truly gifted children and all that that requires and entails.  Fortunately she was also blessed with the inspired vision and sharp mind of a NASA scientist coupled with a faith strong enough to move mountains, or perhaps more impressive and improbable, her family, to Utah... twice!  We all feel so very blessed and lucky to have you near even while knowing that luck had nothing to do with it.  

Joanne, your soft features and willowy frame are the cleverest kind of ruse.  You are, in reality, as solid as the Canadian Shield.  And you're a good mom.

To my sister-in-law Evelyn, whose journey to motherhood forced her to cross two huge cultural and language barriers:  Canadian and Rollins.  Only she can tell you which one was more challenging.  She's about to send her oldest son, Matthew on a mission while at the same time finishing a degree (graduate degree?) in Food Science & Nutrition.  I took that class as an undergraduate and struggled, mightily.  I can't even imagine doing it in a non-native tongue. 

Evelyn you are as intrepid as Jean d' Arc and as dedicated as madame Curie and you're a good mom.

To my sister-in-law Sharlene who could teach Job lessons in patience and optimism.  Sharlene, your bright disposition and ability to make molehills out of the mountains that would crush most people are a blessing and a gift to your family. You sing with the voice of an angel and I wish you lived closer so I could hear it more often.  And you're a good mom.

To my sister-in-law Brianna who left her family and the predictably warm sunshine of her desert home in St George, Utah for the decidedly chillier northern climes of Ottawa, Ontario and agreed to raise her kids Canadian* (cause that's generally what happens when you marry a Canadian).  Brianna you're the best thing that's happened to Nathan in the twenty years that I've known him.  You're a selfless and dedicated wife, a courageous woman and a good mom.

*I have one, possibly two half Canadian children that may be joining their newly minted Canadian cousins.  So Jac, Ella and (?) will be in good company.

                                 

To neighbour moms like Liz Phillipps with 5 kids (and now a puppy [!]) and more chaos in her life than any two moms I know but who still manages to be more upbeat and positive than any person I've met.  Ever.  Liz you are such an important person in the lives of so many people. You give and you give and you give.  You make me happy and you make me smile every time I'm around you.  And you're a good mom.                                                                                                                                           

To Facebook Friend moms like Shauna Jones,  whose blog posts and social media updates as the mother of a cancer survivor as well as her own struggles, trials and eventual triumphs, (always triumphs and triumphs come in various iterations and are often based on perspective, I've learned this from Shauna) with myriad family health problems along with her DIY home improvement projects and runner's notes from the road are a bright spot in my day.  If we ever put in that deck Jenn is always asking for, I will hold the toolbox while you and Jennifer do the detail work.  If I ever run another marathon it will be because you inspired Jennifer who in turn inspired me.  Shauna, you're a strong, strong woman and you share that strength with more people and in more ways than you probably realize.  And you're a good mom.

To mom's like Carol Vincent, who with her instant sunshine smile and outgoing personality just reminds me so much of my own mom.  On a cold Sunday afternoon last winter she gave one of those hugs that only moms can give, the kind that make you feel loved from your ears to your toes and leaves your heart smiling.  

A mom hug is the most precious of gifts.  I hope my children all learn that and never forget it, even when they become the surly, 'too cool for public displays of affection' teen-agers that I once was.   

Carol, I miss you already and wish you didn't have to move. You are a good neighbour, a good friend and most of all a good mom.

To moms like Marsha Jentzsch  whose love is so large it would never fit in just one family, so there are dozens of children who think of her as 'mom'.  Marsha, there's a warmth and tenderness that comes with your big heart.  It pours out of you and touches everyone you know.  I feel it every time I'm around you. 

You're a good mom

To single moms I know.  Like Shannon Karchner.  They say a mother's day never ends, so what does that mean if you are doing the work of two people?  It means you are Awesome (yes I said it and with a capital 'A') because I stand in awe of you and all you accomplish.   On rare occasions I have been you, albeit for only a week or so at a time. But oh, how those weeks stretched out and forced me to contemplate the Sisyphean struggle you face, day in and day out.   It makes me want to weep for you.  





OK, I might have cried a little the last time Jenn left, but that was only because Mathis and nathan cried first.  

If the voyage to our eternal reward in the afterlife is anything like a Transatlantic flight, you have a seat reserved for you in Business Class while the rest of us fly coach. And I will not complain a bit because you are all Good Moms!*

*Yep, Awesome and an exclamation point.

To my wife Jennifer who after twenty two years of marriage still teaches me lessons in compassion:


"What I like best about mommy is she gives second chances." -Mathis 

 "I like that about mommy too." -Elaine

and how she can within moments of arriving home, sense the tone of our family and intuit which of our kids needs to talk to her, even when I've been home (and largely oblivious) for hours.  

How she doesn't begrudge the little jigs of happiness the boys used to do when I would arrive home from work, or the way they treat a trip to the gas station with me or a half hour playing catch in the yard as the highlight of their week but rather points out to me that just because I'm a dad doesn't mean I don't nurture and that these are some of the ways that I do.

Or the way she knows how to truly listen and how that activity occasionally, but doesn't necessarily always, involve your ears.  



She's the kind of good mom that can hold a family together. Lots of good moms like her can hold the world together

Jennifer I love you.  You are wonderful to me, for so many reasons, but the kids love you because you're a good mom.

 

There is no mythical Greek God Atlas supporting the Earth on His shoulders and assuring that our planet holds its place in the cosmos.  There are only good moms doing the everyday things that good moms do. It should come as no surprise to anybody that knows a good mom that that's enough.  






So to all of the good moms I know and to those good moms I haven't yet met, for all you've done and all you do, for your strength and your tenderness, for your courage, and your compassion, for your resilience and your patience, for your selflessness and unheralded sacrifices, for the hugs, the songs, the art and all the other things you do that keep the world spinning on its axis and make life bearable, you have my respect, my gratitude and my love. Setting aside a single day to recognize you seems wholly inadequate but that begs the question what would be enough? A week?  A month?  A year?   It would take a lifetime to truly show our love and appreciation.  

I believe that's exactly as it should be.

Happy Day to moms everywhere,

-S

2013: The Year of Jenn (mostly, it's a love story)

Disclaimer:  Despite being online and in the public domain this blog post is a Christmas gift for my wife Jennifer.  Nothing here that I (or she) would be embarrassed by but definitely more personal than I would intentionally share with the world wide web.  If I had the tech skillz to post it and limit viewing to her (is such a thing possible? probably but it's Christmas morning, this is a question I should have asked a month or so ago) I would do that but I don't and further I don't care.  Just saying, if you're reading this and you're not Jennifer, well, that's on you.  

2013 was the year of Jenn.  

Maybe you didn't realize it as you lay in the January snow, still lamenting sick Christmas 2012, still slightly dizzy from influenza, still artificially underweight from your pre-Christmas brush with gastroenteritis.  But ignoring its inauspicious start, it was exactly that, your year. Whether you were aware of it or not.

It was a year full of goals you set, most of which you reached or exceeded. 

It was a year full of plans you made, lists you wrote down and then carried out and checked off (so satisfying to check items off a list).  

It was a year full of friends, some you already had, some you rediscovered, some were just on Facebook.  Some were new friends you made because the bishop gave you an assignment. Often the friends were in your home, eating soup you cooked, pies you baked or aebleskivers your children turned.  

It was a year full of music of all kinds: strings and brass, keyboards and songs.  Most Sundays the music came in the form of voices, many voices and still more as the year went on.  Voices ringing in the vaulted ceiling of our living room, voices singing to you, for you, at your behest and under your direction. 

It was a year of growing kids and kids growing: taller, more mature, more independent.

It was a year full of love--of all sorts: motherly love, brotherly and sisterly love (and cousinly love) neighbourly love, friendly love (I just love ... Liz, Connie, Shauna, Carol, Bishop Michaelis, K. and S. De Haan, Zach and Julia etc.) and romantic love.  It was a year for lovers, you and me.

Mostly, for me, it was a year full of you.  Of me watching you, admiring you, appreciating you and documenting you.  Some  of that documentation came in the form of earlier blogs (you've read them) and also social media ("Did you see that I wrote nice things about you on Facebook?" -Jenn).  As it turns out Facebook will compile* your top twenty moments of the year for you so you can share them with just the click of a mouse.  Not sure how they know what twenty moments were the best.  Number of likes/comments perhaps?  But facebook doesn't know the details that didn't make it online, the ones that weren't in the public eye but that were important in the year of Jenn.  It doesn't know about pillow talk and Costco dates, it doesn't know about adventure savings cards and delicious phở and even more delicious caramel apples, it doesn't know all the entertaining thoughts that nathan and Mathis share almost daily and it certainly doesn't know about the poetry in the year of Jenn. That I reserve (mostly) for you and only you.  But all of it is worth another look, in my opinion anyway and since I'm driving this train, look we shall.

*It turns out you already did your facebook year in review.  You kinda opened part of your Christmas presents early, but only part.  There are still a few more gifts under the tree.

I love this picture, it's genuine, comforting, cozy.  I can see the lines of laughter, years of stress, the worries and rewards that come from being a mom and a wife in middle age.  You look very... maternal, in the best way.  You look just... so.  Just as you should as a forty one year old mother of four.  You've fought the battle to stay in shape to a draw more or less and you look content.  This is Fall 2012 before the year of Jenn.  Compare it to:

Jennifer at age 42, Fall of 2013 (the year of Jenn)  

It's as though you've found the fountain of youth, a portal back in time.  You look younger, stronger, trim and taught.  You also look more confident, wiser perhaps.  What did David say?  Enlightened?  I agree.  So how did you get from maternal and content to empowered and enlightened?  Let's go back and see, what do you say?  

January

Brunch

Does our house ever feel more warm

cozy 

and inviting

than on winter brunch mornings?

Seegmillers,

Norris-s,

Michaelis-s,

De Haans 

and Aebleskivers

Is there a better way to start the New Year?

Maybe include the Emetts?

Done.

After all the friends go home, and we've eaten all our chips and dips and ginger ale and Raspberry delight that's frozen, after we've watched all the bowl games and put away the decorations, after all that the only thing left to do is get the scale and assess the damage. And there is always damage (always).  Unfortunately, in January, in Utah the roads are frozen and sky is is full of noxious and possibly poisonous air.  I don't remember when you decided you were half iron-manning (fer-rillz, not just for pretenz) but if the seed was already beginning to germinate, it may have been what inspired your Olympic oval group running pass.  That's about to expire by the way, on or around January twentieth (if you were wondering).  It's a group pass, but I guess you were the group leader?

Steven Jenn Larsen

January 9 near West Jordan, UT

Hey, running peeps, what do you know about a 'team pass' at the Oval? ~J

Steven Jenn Larsen shared Gibson's Daily Running Quotes's photo.

January 28  The Oval is open for running tomorrow. (And you are all registered, Jill (Nick), Emily,Shauna's kids, Elizabeth, Tina, Erika, Kristin.) Just go to the desk to check in. All you need is my last and first names. Jill, Andrea needs to sign the roster the first time she goes. Sorry you are sick, Emily.

Now get going. No excuses.

"It's too early, too cold, my legs hurt, I was up late..." Sound familiar? Don't let excuses run your life. Just run. 

In January we had soup night, our second one.  This time with Mill-ipps and Johnsons and Smyths.  When we had our tithing settlement I wondered if we accomplished our assignment from Bishop Michaelis:  Four new friends.  Friend-friends the kind you feel comfortable kicking off your shoes (a requirement in our home, but not in others' homes) and relaxing on the couch, friends you don't feel like you have to entertain or be entertained by, friends who are easy company.  And then I realized, as we were contemplating our January 1st brunch that there were at least half a dozen families, probably more, that would qualify as friends that are just for us, a brunch that requires no stress because we're being entertained while we entertain.  So I guess we fulfilled our assignment?

Rodney Miller

January 19

Great time at the Steven Jenn Larsen with the Adam Smyths and the Scott Johnsonand the Elizabeth Phillipps

Thanks gang that was a lot of fun

Steven Jenn Larsen became friends with Steve Michaelis.

January 20

Comfort Food

Did you know I was thinking of you 

and loving you just now?  

Does that mean I missed you?  

then I missed you too  

So you know  

I can't wait for spaghetti, 

some warm bread 

and to give you a hug ... 

Yeah,  that's pretty much the order

cause I'm hungry 

not because I value the others more

You know?

February

Thoughts of you stirred my heart this morning

as I drove into the rec center parking lot

a familiar song running through my mind

a song that I used to associate with suffering 

but for now

makes me think of ...

living

the sweet ecstatic joy

of life

with you

Mekong Cafe Date with the Mill-ipps.  We are locked in a my fitness pal* struggle but we take a night off for dinner with friends.

*I'm going to have to do that again in January.  It worked, I was down to 189 lbs.  Didn't win me any contest.  It never seems to.  Are we in a contest now?  After the first of the year perhaps? 

Rodney Miller

February 1 near Midvale, UT

Dinner with friends — with Elizabeth Phillipps and 2 others.

Valentine's date:

It turns out that a massage table as a Valentine's gift isn't weird or creepy at all.  It came in handy many, many times

On Valentine's Day we exercised and weighed in.  I was 188.9 lbs.  First time under 190 in ... I don't even know. A long time, and still I somehow lost the competition.  Is this the contest where it was pretty clear I was going to win so you changed the rules at halftime, citing anatomical disparities as the reason you were going down in defeat? I think it was.  

After weigh in we tried out the massage table, it was unexpectedly sturdy. Supports 400 lbs (said so on the box) that's like ...  both of us (and then some). 

We went to Winger's for lunch, got your new, white gold wedding band sized and then to back country/competitive cyclist to welcome the new addition to our cycling circle

Steven Jenn Larsen

February 14

Feels like Christmas morning and all the presents are for me. Welcome to the family mademoiselle Ridley (che bella cosa!).

"This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."  -Casablanca ... (Casablanca)

Semper Fidelis

Valentine's 

is a day for lovers

a day to profess your devotion 

and fidelity

to that special someone in your life

So it is  not without irony 

that our day ended in a love triangle

involving a pert Belgian

dressed smartly 
in red and black

and shod with designer, carbon-fiber footwear

You are still the love of my life

you occupy more than 99% of my heart

Surely you can share that last 1%

with the Flemish siren?

Shauna Sorensen Jonesposted to Steven Jenn Larsen

February 16 near West Jordan, UT

Jenn!!! I just made banana bread with your flour and it is amazing! I can't even really taste the difference between it and regular banana bread. I told Mike I wanted to write you a love letter, but he made me promise to keep it PG. He's eating it without problems, too. I LOVE you! Thank you!

Steven Jenn Larsen  nathan's night out at Crown Burger (mmm Crown Burger) 898 calories (per my fitness pal). That's with the bun. Don't know how many calories Jenn saved by going bun-free. Totally worth it though.-S

nathan's night out

Has there ever been a boy

who could perfectly capture the delight

of an otherwise simple 

and possibly forgettable

moment,

evening

or event 

with his ear to ear grin 

quite like nathan can?

Probably there has been 

but nathan is mine,

ours

and when he smiles so genuinely 

I can't help but smile with him

After Crown burger we went to a play: Thoroughly Modern Millie.  It was thoroughly inappropriate for 14 year old kids but nathan didn't seem to notice (and he got a burger and a shake).

March

Raechel is Spring

Her leonine changes in disposition 

like the the mercurial weather of March

The way her smile brightens her face 

like the season's first daffodils 

pushing their yellow petals 

through late winter's still melting snow

and how her cheerful moods

feel like the long awaited gift

 of April tulips

The way she sprouted from a pint-sized 

brown eyed girl

full of laughter and hugs

and topped with ringlets

to the tall, 

confident, 

 semi-aloof (even on her tranquil days)

young woman she is today

in what seemed like just a few tempestuous months

Like Spring Raechel was new

she taught us to be parents

and her budding maturity 

and growing independence

would make me more sad today

were there not more seasons 

that follow Spring

A conversation about Reachel:

Robby:  So what's the deal with Raechel? Does she just work every Sunday?

Me:  She's actually investigating new religions, I think she's interested in becoming a Druid.

Robby:  A what?

Me:  A Druid, you know, the people who worship trees and celebrate the soltices?  It's a Celtic religion, they are the ones who built Stonehenge.

Robby:  For Reals?

Me:  No, not for reals.  She works most Sundays.

Robby:  Oh.  Well with Raechel you never know.

Junior Prom

When our house was being built (this would be some 13 years ago) I told Jennifer that one day we would sit in our living room (which at the time consisted of plywood floors and framed walls without drywall) and watch as our daughters walked down the staircase dressed to 9s for their prom dates. At the time Raechel was too young for preschool and Elaine was still in diapers. Now? I feel like I'm living in a Hallmark movie and muttering clichés like "where does the time go?" You looked radiant Raechel. Kudos to Kimber for a fabulous job on your make-up and hair and to Brett for making you smile so genuinely. It warmed my heart even as it made me wistful. -Dad

Raechel's Poem

Have I told you lately that I'm proud of you?

Of the young woman you are

and who you can become

who you will become?

Have I praised you for the good things you do

the effort you put into your school work

your violining

(not a word says spellcheck but spellcheck also says spellcheck's not a word so ...)

The fact that you got a job

and work at it well enough that they asked you back

even after other seasonal help was dismissed?

Have I mentioned that I admire your independent spirit

your critical and analytic mind

that gets misinterpreted by some

as negativity and cynicism?

the fact that you did so well on the ACT

that you qualify for a scholarship?

Have I complimented you on your fashion sense

or the graceful reserve with which you carry yourself

that makes you seem mature beyond your years

to people much older than you?

If I haven't then I've been remiss.

You deserve to hear it

not just because it feels good to hear those things

but because they are true

and because I love you

and always will.

Here's a song (apropos of nothing, but maybe not)

PS Did you know it's hard to watch your kids grow up?   That's not an excuse, just the truth.

Thank You

Gracias

por hacer me la comida

y despues el amor

Gracias

por no divorciarme

en tu corazón ni en mis  sueños

Gracias

por n0 ser una esposa mediana

ni amiga mediana

ni amante mediana

siempre te amo

zyomay

merci

Pour me faire dîner

puis faire l'amour

merci

pour ne pas divorcer moi

Dans ton coeur

et dans mes rêves

merci

pour ne pas être un meiocre

femme

ami

et l'amant

Je t'aime toujours

zyomay

Elizabeth Phillipps

March 21 near Taylorsville, UT

Yoga this morning. It makes me happy. Thanks Cassandra! Sorry Steven Jenn Larsen. That's my kid.

A Wednesday in Spring

I thought of a poem

about midnight blog readings on a smart phone

and irregular cardiac rhythms

as witnessed on that same troublesome device,

of stethoscopes, heart tones

and skipped beats.

In that poem

I would have had to mention

an intimate embrace

and a surprisingly pleasant treatment for palpitations

that when done correctly,

unfortunately, 

exacerbates the problem with your knee.

Later,

there would also be 

the matter of bad dreams

so real they make you want to cry.

Apocalyptic clouds

and imperiled children.

More wee hours of the morning conversations

more worries and restlessness (you)

more comforting and concern (me)

and more wondering 

when it's OK to stop cuddling (and validating)

and just sleep. (me, again)

Then there would be me,

canceling my early AM rec center appt.

for the first time this year

only to have my 'sleep-in' cancelled in turn

by Kimber's expired registration.

When I realized 

that it all was still in my mind

when I got to work

and there still 

after I got caught up on housekeeping details

and even after my first and second patients

I had to write it down

Because it made me think again

that I love you today

like I have

for twenty one years

three months

several weeks

a few hours

and a couple dozen precious minutes.

Those same minutes 

still taking up space

in my mind and in my heart,

inspiring  poetry 

on an otherwise unexceptional Wednesday morning.

April

"Spring has sprung and autumn's so well done." -Echo and the Bunnymen

It really is spring.  Why else would we be strolling in daybreak on a Sunday afternoon? 

Steven Jenn Larsen

April 5

State Finals - National Geographic Bee with Mathis (the Westland Elementary Champion)

Ankara! (How could I forget Ankara?)

Mathis makes the state finals for the Geo Bee and chooses Stanford (the lolly-pop, his University choice is pending, but Stanford has a good football team so, maybe?)

Mathis' version of the burger inspired ear to ear grin

Steven Jenn Larsen

April 5 near West Jordan, UT

We almost forgot! Everyone is invited to our house Saturday night (after the Priesthood session) for ice cream. You can bring brownies or a finger food or don't bring anything but just come. It's tradition*! (Well, not yet but maybe one day it will be.) Feel free to pass the word along...

*I guess we'll find out this April if it took?

April 18  Jenn's Birthday Date

7 am: 5k run (at 8:14 pace. Jennifer just keeps getting faster, easy to forget she's about to turn 42). This was by herself. We share many interests and activities, but running is not one. She actually ran 5 miles but the first and last were warm-up/cool down so I guess they don't count?

9 am Yoga class with Cassandra (Cassandra is the Best!). 

10:15 am One hour massage on massage Valentine's Day gift massage table 

Noon (ish) lunch at Mekong cafe. The place was packed so while we waited we pretended we were in one of those photo booths they used to have at miniature golf or bowling alleys, where you get to take three photos in rapid succession? Mixed results there (these would be the best of many). Had to take pictures of the food (cause it's delicious and really the reason facebook was invented [so people can take pictures of what they are about to eat and send it to their friends] just doing our part to play along). I let slip that it was Jenn's birthday date and Brenda (she of the boisterous laughter and sunny disposition) brought Jenn some (sticky) rice pudding with mangos. 

Absolutely decadent (we'd better give Jenn a moment to herself here).

1:30 Sweet cake bake shop for gluten free Cupcakes and cookies that want for nothing. Everything there is delicious. Jenn has basically been on a sugar fast for 3 weeks. It ends here and now.

2:00 Leonardo Museum of Science and Technology/Library Square. Jenn does a lot of stumbling and bumping into things (sugar crash, I told her not to eat that entire Oatmeal Cookie Creme sandwich by herself).

4:30 Costco (most Thursdays we end up here and call it a date, today it's just part of a date).

5:30, Home. feed kids, fall asleep on the couch. I think at some point Jenn may have eaten two more cupcakes and part of a peanut butter, chocolate bar. I'll have to check on that.

Kids are fed and happy, house is clean, it's Thursday night and we have nowhere we need to be and nothing urgent we're supposed to be doing. Can't ask for much more than that.

Happy Birthday Honey.

April 19 David Rollins

That's what I want for my birthday. You two are such an inspiration. Happy Birthday, Jennifer! xoxo 

42

"The Answer to the Great Question... Of Life, the Universe and Everything... Is... Forty-two,' said Deep Thought, with infinite majesty and calm.” 

― Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

The answer to everything is forty-two... and so are you.

Happy birthday my dear friend!! I hope it was a good day filled with naps and laughs! -Liz Phillips

Thanks for letting us sing for you today, and hang out at your house, and eat lots of caramel popcorn, and leave lots of caramel popcorn on the floor, and letting your daughter come, even though it's your birthday, and sometime in the next month, between the craziness of everything, we really need to hang out.Happy Birthday! Love you! -Kristin

On your birthday we were Primary substitutes for the Sunbeams and Summer became your friend.  Later  she brought you birthday balloons and a picture she drew herself (the first of many).

Oh yeah, choir rehearsal at 8:30 am in the chapel for anyone who can make it...Elizabeth, MeriLynne, Kristin, Connie, Shellie... oh, this is taking too long. Just everyone come if you can. ~J

Choir run through tomorrow morning at 8:30. No rehearsal after church.
Happy Easter, everyone!

Um, any of my choir on facebook tonight? We have a run through tomorrow morning at 8:30. (Then regular choir tomorrow but NO choir next week.)

Oh, Choi-er! We have a run through Sunday morning at 8:30. Please be prompt. It is Ward Conference that day. (Shellie, Elizabeth, Kerri, Rich, MeriLynne,Connie,Jennifer, Kristin, Beth -please tell your wonderful husband. I guess I will have to email everyone else.) ~J

CHOIR is singing tomorrow. Please meet at 8:30 in the chapel. Have a good night! 

Reminder ... Please come to the chapel at 8:30 Sunday morning to rehearse with the organ.  We only have ONE more rehearsal Sunday afternoon so please (pretty please) come.  
Thank you.

I've said it more than once and I'll say it again... You are such a talented, amazing, wonderful, outstanding choir and I love you all!  You work hard and it shows.  You sing with the Spirit and it brings me so much joy to lead you.  Thank you.

Choir Director

A choir is a gifted but undisciplined child

a musical mob

a herd of cats

A choir is a room full of voices 

looking for a reason to speak

and a tune to carry

A choir is water at the bottom of a well
it needs to be drawn forth
by sweat of brow
and force of will

A Choir requires a firm hand

as well as a soft touch

It needs to be cajoled and  encouraged

implored and praised

and occasionally bribed

sometimes it needs to be scolded 

or reigned in
if you do it right
the correction can sound like a compliment
but it requires a deft approach

A choir needs guidance and direction, 

a Gospel choir needs motivation and inspiration

It needs to know that what it is singing is true

so others can know that too

A chain is only as strong as its weakest link

a choir is only as good as its Director helps it to be

that's a lot of pressure

It requires vision 

and faith

an eye for details

and an ear for pitch

it occupies your thoughts

and disrupts your sleep

it taxes you 

emotionally

intellectually

and spiritually

But in the end

the effort 

as much as the result

is the blessing 

that comes with the calling

When the bishop called you as choir director you were doubtful.  You doubted yourself and your abilities.  You questioned whether the bishop was being inspired or just calling you out of convenience. You were intimidated by your predecessor, Jamie.  And rightfully so. Though slight in size she left big shoes to fill.  But filled them you did. I am proud of you for so many things (I've told you, pretty sure) but I should add that I have loved watching and listening to you direct the choir, seeing your confidence grow and observing the results as the choir responded to your leadership.  Each new piece of music was like experiencing another part of your testimony (often literally) and I loved being able to ponder your instructions to the choir and the spiritual insights you shared with them when I finally got to hear you sing in Sacrament meeting.  I really will miss Sundays with the choir and the opportunity to see you shine (because you do).  

Is this your favourite calling ever?  It likely cost you an opportunity to work with Connie in the Young Women's programme, but in the end the Bishop was right (and inspired).

A new hair style

I probably don't have time to write you a poem today

though today is the type of day

or perhaps day after,

that would have me thinking of one.

If I'd had the time

the poem would be about the dream you that I met yesterday

the you that was you but not you

in the way that only makes sense in dreams 

The dream you 

that was almost you

but not quite you,

had hair that was straighter

the tresses just barely long enough

to cloak your inclined head

and shade the satisfied smile 

on the face 

that was almost yours

May 

Rodney is a good Home Teacher (in case you forgot).

Steven Jenn Larsen

May 12

For Mother's day: New porch furniture 

(it was cold on the porch,  

then it wasn't)

and the sprinklers fixed. Yip-pee! 

"There's your problem, right there."

For Mother's Day your mom came (your dad too) and I got to speak in church.  I was glad for the opportunity to tell your mom how much having her in my life has meant.  She knows, I know she knows but it was the closest I could come to saying happy Mother's Day to my own mom ... you know?

Womanhood

In the book of Moses we read: 

And  I, the Lord God, said unto mine ^aOnly Begotten, that it is not good that man should be ^balone; wherefore, I will make an ^chelp meet for him.

And  I, the Lord God, caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam; and he slept, and I took one of his ribs  And the rib which I, the Lord God, had taken from man, made I a ^awoman, and brought her unto the man.  And ^aAdam said: This I know now is bone of my bones, and^bflesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of man.

  

I have been asked to speak today on Womanhood and I’m ashamed to admit that when I received the assignment I didn’t initially make the connection that I would be speaking about Womanhood on  Mother’s Day. Brother Thomas actually called as I was leaving for work and when I did finally realize what he had asked me to do, I spent the better part of that morning a bit flummoxed.  It seemed a tall order at the time.  And frankly, it still sort feels that way   So I ask for your prayers on my behalf as I take on a topic about which I care deeply even as I feel inadequate to the task.

The story of Helaman’s army of two thousand stripling warriors, young men who, armed with a knowledge of their mother’s love and unwavering faith went to war and saved a country, is one that is familiar to each of us.  So much so that a song has been written about it and T-shirts have been made.  It’s part of our religious iconography & spiritual lore.  And rightfully so, it’s a miraculous story full of core gospel principles like obedience, faith, fidelity to God and country and the protective force of righteous living.  It’s a story of a valiant group of young men standing firm in the face of unrighteous aggression.  In short, it’s a story about heroes and heroism, and who doesn’t love a story like that?

  

But today I would like to direct your minds to another group of young individuals to whom an entire Kingdom owed their lives. We pick up the story at the top of a tower in the land of Nephi.  Gideon, a righteous Nephite leader is about to slay the wicked King Noah when they both notice that an army of Lamanites has entered the borders of their land.  The two stop fighting among themselves and rally their men to stand against the invaders.  But sadly their numbers are few, and it is obvious that they will not be able to repel so great a force.  It is at this moment that the wicked King Noah (and yes his full title should always include ‘the wicked’ before King Noah) tells his men to abandon the battlefield, leave their wives and children and run to the wilderness.  Unbelievably, many of the men do exactly that.  The cowardice of this act galls me, every time I read this passage, and I choose not to imagine the conversations that must have taken place between those husbands and fathers and their wives and children when later they repented of their actions and returned to their families.  I anticipate at some point there will be a talk in general priesthood session titled Never Abandon Your Post and those Nephite men who fled into the wilderness will provide the object lesson.  This, however, is not that talk.  Rather I would like to discuss those individuals who were left behind specifically a remarkable group of young women whose courage and valour matches and perhaps even exceeds that of Helaman’s two thousand.  Let’s call them ‘the Daughters of Gideon’.  

With many of their men gone and an invading army preparing to fall upon them to finish the job they had started, these young daughters were sent to stand before the marauding horde, armed only with an appeal to what Abraham Lincoln referred to as ‘the better angels of their nature’  for if such angels do in fact speak to the souls of men, then surely the messages they carry come from the hearts and lips of women.

  

I want you to take a second with me, and in your mind picture what that must have looked like.  Think of the courage, and trust those young women displayed at that pivotal moment.  We can never know what must have gone through the minds of the Lamanite soldiers as the Daughters of Gideon stood between them and their malicious intentions, but from the prophet Jacob we learn that despite their many faults, the Lamanite men respected and honoured women.   In the third chapter of Jacob we read that the Lamanites had not forgotten the commandment of the Lord that they should have one wife and of concubines they should have none.  Further, and, perhaps most importantly, “their husbands loved their wives and their wives loved their husbands and their husbands and wives loved their children.”  

No, we cannot know what went through the minds of the Lamanite soldiers but I like to believe they were reminded of their own daughters and their own wives and mothers and in the face of that memory and the courageous young women standing before them, the fight, for lack of a better term, was taken out of them.

And so, a valiant group of young women stood in the face of unrighteous aggression and pierced the hearts of an army of men bent on their destruction, not with spears or arrows, but with compassion and tenderness.  And through their courage the entire Kingdom was saved.

What an amazing moment in the history of humankind.  Somebody, perhaps Janice Kapp Perry, should write a song about it.  It’s a wonderful story full of core gospel principles like valour and love of family, of standing steadfast and immovable despite the wickedness that surrounds you. of honoring and respecting virtuous women and the power that a woman’s virtue has to lead otherwise evil men to make right choices.

In short, it’s a story about heroines and heroism and who doesn’t love a story like that?  

The moral of this story is that there is a strength that exceeds the physical, that eclipses the brutal, that surpasses and even pacifies the carnal.  It is to this strength, the innate strength of women, that I wish to direct the remainder of my comments this morning. 

I realize that the subject ‘the strength of women’ is better suited to a week-long symposium than a sacrament meeting talk but I would like to take a moment, however briefly, to express my gratitude for those strong and virtuous women who have been a part of my life and the way those strengths have impacted it for good.  I’m speaking of the strengths of love, of patience, of inspiration, of compassion and of perspective.

I can’t speak about the strength of love and not think of my mother-in-law Elenor and as a happy coincidence she happens to be here today, though I assure you she did not come all the way from Ontario Canada just to hear me speak.   As many of you know my own mother passed away many years ago, while I was serving as a missionary in South America as a matter of fact, and for many years I would have found it very difficult to speak in church on Mother’s day.  That might still be case today if not for, Elenor.  From the day she met me she has treated me as one of her own.  All she needed to know was that I was somebody important to the daughter that she loved and instantly that capacity to love expanded to include me.  She has seven children and from those seven she has added six sons and daughters in law and I am certain that she loves each of them as though they were her own, though clearly I’m the favorite … but here’s the thing, I’m sure among the other five sons & daughters-in-law there are several if not all that probably feel as though they are her favourite as well, (even though clearly they are not).  But that’s the nature of Elenor’s love.  It feels enormous and unending.  Mom, (and I call her that without a speck of irony because I know she regards me as one of her sons) Mom, is a strong woman in many, many ways but it is the strength of her constant and constantly expanding love that keeps her family close despite being spread geographically across the entire north american continent.

I’m grateful for the strength of patience, never more evident than when I have had the opportunity to substitute in Primary for sharing time and observe the perpetual motion of our little ones as the Primary leaders, with the patience of Job, teach them their first gospel lessons through music and song.  As I have joined my voice with theirs and sung ‘I am a child of God’ the Spirit has confirmed to me yet again that it was true.  And I knew that when I was three years old, a similarly dedicated primary leader, blessed with the strength of patience, was among the first to help me understand that divine principle.  

There’s the patience Jennifer shows with me as a father of boys who will soon be young men. A father who even after almost seventeen years on the job is still learning the difference between coddling, which I feel is counter-productive, and nurturing which as parents is a responsibility we both share. It just seems to come naturally to Jennifer, I on the other hand am still learning and I appreciate her patience with me as I do.

There’s the strength of inspiration.  Not the inspiration of personal revelation or insight, though that is definitely a strength that many women possess, but rather the power of women to inspire the hearts of men to reach for a higher plane, to seek the good in themselves, to overcome the natural man’s selfish instincts.  

I have a daughter who as Shakespeare put it is “of a pretty age” or in more plain English she is sixteen, which by edict of the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet and by tradition means that she can go on dates …  with boys ... no matter how I as her father feel about it.  

I actually say that in complete jest, I know that as a father of daughters my parental defense radar should be pinging loudly as they enter this time of their lives but honestly it does not, rather as I watch the young men who have come around in their clumsy way to pitch woo I have been more amused than anything.  I remember me at that age and the mystery that was young women and how difficult and painful was the pursuit of them.  If anything my instinct is to give these would be suitors advice rather than chase them away, but I realize that this would be pointless.  Whomever it is that wins the hearts and hands of my daughters will have to do so on their own merits and at the expenditure of great effort and energy to prove that they are worthy of that prize.  The process if done correctly will be refining and in the end will make them the kind of men with whom my daughters will want to spend eternity.  And it is a process, one that will take a lifetime.  Courtship should never end.  I firmly believe that heaven’s blessings are reserved for those who make a constant effort to brighten the days or ease the burdens of our Heavenly Father’s daughters here on earth, not just our wives and mothers, but all women, everywhere. Likewise I believe there will be an accounting for every sin of commission or omission.  We will be required to answer for every tear provoked by our actions and every thoughtless word or neglected opportunity for service.  Would you expect any less from a Father who loves and cherishes his daughters? 

Some of the rewards of this process are of course more immediate.  There are few things in my life more sublimely satisfying than discovering the thoughtful gesture, the sincerely appreciated act of service, or the perfect words that will lift Jennifer and make her day happier. Without saying a word, she challenges me to try every day to please her and in the end it’s my character that is changed, my heart that is softened and my life, more than hers, that is blessed by the effort.  Sisters, please never forget and never underestimate the ability you have to stir and awaken the nascent divinity that exists in the souls of all the sons or our Father in Heaven.  You have the ability to make this world kinder, more peaceful and more ready for our Saviour's return, one man at a time.

When I think of the strength of Compassion I can’t help but think of the sisters who serve in the Relief Society. The Saviour said, even as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me.  There was a period of my life when I felt that the Saviour was referring specifically to me when he spoke of ‘the least of these’  and though there were many hands that reached down to help me up and got me back on my feet, I distinctly remember the RS president and her counselors taking special interest, doing what they could to show through compassionate service that they genuinely cared.  I know for a fact that as a presidency they sat down and counseled among themselves how to best reach out to me and my family and meet our needs as we went through a trying time in our lives.  The thought of them caring enough to do this for me is at once humbling and wonderful.  

I also know that that compassion and service comes at a cost both emotional and physical, that the burden of knowing about needs that exist, of caring for and meeting those needs is exactly that, a burden.  One that they bear without complaint or thought of recompense.   My wife once told me that when she was called to be the RS president she felt a physical weight, perhaps mantle would be a better term, but something tangible that never left her but was present to a much greater degree when she was within the ward boundaries than when she was outside them.  The good sisters that followed her, Sister Phillips and Sister Crowder must have felt this as well and I can sense it every time I talk to President Dimmick.  She’s still the lovely and energetic woman that I’ve had the privilege of knowing for the past thirteen years but there’s a weight she carries, a burden, mine and yours.  And though she and her counselors would never ask for or expect special recognition, they absolutely deserve it.  So on behalf of the ward, thank you for the strength of your compassion.  It has the ability to change and yes, even save lives. I stand here today as living proof of that fact.

The strength of perspective was perfectly demonstrated in a recent General Conference address by President Uchtdorf.  In this talk he admitted that he was an aficionado of cycling, my ears instantly perked up, I also have been known to enjoy a bike ride. President Unchtdorf then added that he enjoyed going for rides with his wife. “Me too!” I thought.  He then confessed that on rides he often wants to push himself, to see how far and how fast he can go.  I thought:  “Are you kidding me, I don’t just know this guy, I am this guy!” I immediately began making plans to start loitering around City Creek and the avenues on my bike so I could accidentally run into my now favourite general authority and go for a ride together.  I could picture it in my mind, every Thursday afternoon we would meet up on North Temple and together storm to the top of Emigration Canyon, setting personal records right and left and high fiving each other when we got to the top.  Yeah, it’s possible that I let my imagination run away with me a little, and more importantly, I missed the point of the talk, in much the same way President Uchtdorf missed the point of his bike ride.  That purpose as pointed out by his wise and loving wife was not to see how fast they could arrive at the finish but rather to enjoy the time they had on the road.  

Using the bike as a metaphor for life she told him  (and I will paraphrase here) slow down Dieter, why are you always rushing to finish one thing just to move on to the next?  Enjoy the ride, fill your lungs with the fresh air, smell the summer leaves, the freshly cut grass and the backyard BBQs, appreciate the colours of the flowers in the flower beds, say hello to that strange man who seems to always be pedaling up and down this street looking for somebody to ride with … In other words, find joy in the journey.  After all, as the prophet Lehi taught, Men are that they might have joy, it just often takes a woman’s sensitivity and sensibility to remind us of that fact.

My gratitude list of strong and virtuous women wouldn’t be complete without mentioning the Young Women’s program and the blessing it has been to our girls.  I’m grateful for Our YW leaders’ their dedication and inspired leadership.  Through my attendance at various Young Women in Excellence and New Beginnings activities I have seen that they know our girls personally, that they love them individually and they appreciate their unique qualities.  On more than one occasion, as part of these activities, the leadership has asked me as a parent to take a moment and write down what makes my daughters special or precious to me or write them a letter sharing my testimony.  Without exception these assignments have brought me closer to my daughters and have helped me to love and appreciate their distinct personalities and the blessing it is to have them in our family.

  

As part of every one of these Young Women’s activities the Young Women theme is recited, and it is with those inspired words which are to all daughters of our father in heaven, not just those in the Young Women’s program, that I wish to end my talk but I can’t do so without thinking of the missionary letter from Elder De Hann that appeared in this month’s Ward Newsletter.  If you haven’t yet read it yet it’s a wonderful message about inspiration and fearlessly opening your mouth and allowing the Lord to provide for you the right words to say in the moment they need to be said.  But what stuck with me was the experience he had as he read the words of the Sacrament prayer in the book of Moroni.  They were words he had heard so many times in his life that he no longer felt the power present in them.  I understand that sentiment completely.  If you hear something enough times it becomes almost like wallpaper.  Spiritual wallpaper, to be sure but something you may still appreciate but fail to take notice.  I fear that through frequent repetition of the Young Women theme the same may become true for my daughters, so it is in the hope that this is never the case that I share this with you generally, but with them specifically:

We are daughters of our Heavenly Father, who loves us, and we love Him. We will  “stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places” As we strive to live the Young Women values, which are:

Faith • Divine Nature • Individual Worth • Knowledge • Choice and Accountability • Good Works • Integrity • and Virtue ...

Sisters of the church, I want you to know that I know that these words are true.  

You are daughters of a Heavenly Father who knows and loves each of you individually.  

Your lives are a precious gift from Him, not just to you but to every person and thing that your life touches.  

You are what the Prophet Joseph Smith referred to when he wrote “If there is anything virtuous, lovely, of good report or praiseworthy …”  

This world is an infinitely better place because you are in it.

On this day of all days I am profoundly grateful for every woman who is, or ever has been, a part of my life no matter how big or small.  Each of you in your way are an inspiration to me. You make me want to be a better man.

Preparing this talk has afforded me the opportunity to contemplate anew Our Father in Heaven's profound and profoundly gracious words uttered at the dawn of humanity's existence:  "It is not good for man to be alone."    Heaven help us if for any reason the blessing of strong and virtuous women is ever taken from our lives.  

In the name of Jesus Christ amen.

Your mom and dad left and then you left on your London substitute vacation and I stayed behind with a house full of kids a half empty bed and poetry in my heart.

A poem for airport good-byes

It was probably the early hour

or the restless night's sleep,

your considerate but unsuccessful attempt 

not to wake me with your shower

or possibly it was the frenetic final four days of preparation

leading up to this morning

that left me feeling physically distant,

emotionally disconnected.

I should be sad

I should be wistful

I should feel nostalgic for the time you are away

and the time you will be back

was what I thought as we left our neighbourhood 

in the almost light of pre-dawn

Instead I felt ... surly

weary

resigned,.

without poetry to give you

for your long hours on the road.

But then you told me you were happy I could exercise

instead of coming in to stand with you

like Stu would

for Joanne

and I felt ashamed for thinking just seconds earlier

of how I liked the efficiency and speed 

of the curb drop.

How I was glad of it.

You gave me one last hug

a tight squeeze

like the hug in the kitchen last night

a hug that says 

I wish I had more to give you

that I had given it when I had the chance

but now what I have is this hug 

and a promise

Then you shouldered your bags 

and walked into the terminal

I watched, knowing you would look back

over your now burdened shoulders

and wave

at least twice, 

maybe three times.

In your comfortable traveling-yoga pants

and white hooded sweatshirt

you looked youthful

and happy

You reminded me of the young Jennifer

that came to get me from that same airport

when we were mostly

but not all the way 

engaged

And all the emotion I thought I hadn't felt:

The longing when you hugged me in the kitchen,

that hug of regret and promise

The pride when I saw you in your tri- suit

all toned and athletic looking

The semi-guilty voyeuristic desire and stirring

when you showed me your limited-time only coiffure

The welcome calm and comforting peace

when you talked me back to bed

for pillow talk; 

the last nocturne for ten days

or eleven

All of that came to me in a rush.

I was blindsided

and I had to suppress a Hollywood-cliché desire

to leave the van parked illegally

and chase you into the terminal

and tell you

not to stay

but not to go 

without knowing that you make me feel 

so much

even when I don't want to.

Instead I swallowed a sob, 

(no exaggeration, one more blindside surprise)

wiped away one and a half tears,

and drove home

thinking of the poem

I hadn't known was in my heart

and head

Until you left.

 Tuesday's Beard

It's Tuesday morning

the morning my shower 

generally includes

a shave.

Cause you never know

It might be a lucky Tuesday

even though history 

and experience

argue against it.

My Tuesday shave

Is the romantic equivalent 

of purchasing a power-ball lottery ticket 

every week

cause somebody has to win.

Right?

Does that mean

somebody,

somewhere

gets lucky 

every Tuesday 

when I shave?

I'm not sure how the universe works

but if hurricanes can come into being 

on the wings of butterflies

then why can't my Tuesday shave

make some husband, 

somewhere

feel like it's marde gras

for no reason he could have anticipated?

This morning I regarded my razor 

for a moment longer than usual

then set it back on the ledge

Not because someone, 

somewhere

doesn't deserve a blissful reprieve 

from the mid-week monotony of life

but because 

today 

you are gone.

As I continued my shower

sans shave

the memory of a Jewish woman

that we met on our pre grad-school flight to Baltimore

entered my head.

She was wearing a dark blue denim vest

with a rend in the chest 

near her heart

She wore it in mourning of a loved one

who had recently passed

I thought

"that's what I will do

if I ever lose you."

Only instead of a torn garment

I will cloak my grief

with a beard of bereavement.

So today 

won't be lucky Tuesday

for me

or whomever 

the power-ball winner 

might have been.

Next Tuesday 

doesn't look promising 

either

Date night without you

Museum Date

I don't remember whose idea it was

to go on a date to the Church History museum

Yours?

Mine?

What we did didn't matter to me

I was glad of any activity that included you

I do remember you wore the outfit 

that you wore on our first (official) date

a white cotton blouse

with long sleeves

and some ornamentation

or ruffle

a fancy collar or buttons?

something that made it not 'just' a white long sleeve T-shirt

and navy blue pants.

The first time you wore it I was ensorceled

the second time

I think we fell in love.

At the museum we saw John Taylor's pocketwatch 

the one that prevented a bullet 

from piercing his heart

Later in the evening

You told me 

your heart

was falling for me

I think it was at that point 

I knew

we would be together 

always

because I was pretty sure 

I loved you too

and couldn't imagine wanting to go on another date

museum or otherwise

with anybody else

Missing

A day made for a ride

blue spring skies,

Spring delivering on its promised gift

of temperate mornings

and idyllic afternoons

wind blowing cool, fresh mountain air

down from the everpresent snowdrifts and glaciers

Campfire smells from early bird campers

getting a jump on the day

and a jump on the camping season

The promise of an entire Thursday off

only one thing missing  ...

I looked at this photo

to check the composition

make sure I had captured everything in the frame

and for the briefest moment,

I was surprised

and more than a bit crestfallen

at the vacant road behind me.

I pedaled on

into the increasingly chilly canyon breezes

drawing on the familiar heat

I can feel in my chest

at memories of past rides in this canyon:

An autumn bike ride

on a fall afternoon

as two thousand twelve's cycling season came to a close,

a playful but portentous wind

blew orange and yellow confetti all around

And you, grinned so wide

you could almost hear the shout of joy that your smile suppressed

That was your happiest moment

in a year full of happy moments

More musings:

of an anniversary ride

the inception of that annual tradition

in this same canyon

four years ago

of sensual indulgences

B&F and Boysenberry

making love

to celebrate another year

of that love

and then

for the audacity of being so in love

in middle age,

paying penance

in blood and sweat,

skinned knees and scraped handle bars

but no tears.

Every photo in this canyon,

is a photo of you

at least in my warm memories

As I rounded the final switch before the summit

and felt the grade taunt and dare me to finish strong

to make this too a ride worth remembering

I buried thoughts of you

of anniversary rides

of team training

of social cycling

deep behind the pain center of my brain

pushing my muscles past the burning point

and focusing on nothing more

than the effort

of moving the air in my lungs,

and the blood in my legs

I rolled to the summit

sixty seconds faster

than I ever have before

I let the florid heat of your memory

come rushing back

to savour the moment,

the milestone,

the personal victory

with me.

And to warm me

once again

on the descent 

You went home and did more fun things with your family than I could possibly write, so I won't try.  But here are some photos and some memories for you to revisit and to warm you on a cold winter day.  PS at first I thought that was David with long hair (not Joanne).  Look away then look at it again real fast ... did you see?

The Maple Tree 

What you don't know about trees

is a lot,

you said

giving me your best Olympia Dukakis impersonation.

You also said it

(or words to that effect)

about the peach tree,

the ash

and most recently,

the new addition maple

that replaced the fated honey locust

in the front yard

But never about the maple on the north side of the house

of that tree

I've never had a doubt.

The north side maple has been consistent

through storms and wind

through summer droughts

through hard winter freezes

and blights of bark beetle

 the maple grew

apparently unfazed

by the calamitous passage of time

If anything

the rough times made it stronger

more resilient

more determined to make her roots in this place

permanent.

And now

After years of bending 

but not breaking 

in the wind

of conserving 

instead of withering

in the drought

Of patiently riding out the dark winter

She stands gloriously content

in the sunshine of Spring

"Steve!  I just wanted you to know that that is one happy maple tree you have there.  It might be the happiest maple tree in West Jordan." - Ray Olsen

Missing II

Long day

road day

home to a vacation empty house

I miss you

Nothing specific

just beginning to notice all the empty spaces

in our home

and in my life

that you occupy.

I'm not sad

or desperate

but I am keenly aware

that you will be home

in five days

Steven Jenn Larsen

May 25

Zion National Park. It's for times like this that I reserve the word 'Awesome!' 

Memorial Day 

Holiday cookout

Cousins, uncles and in-laws

But no Jennifer

Missing III

Tonight I am lonesome

wish you were here

reading your books on training

and nutrition

so I could fall asleep next to you

and maybe wake up when you turn off the light

and spoon a little

then fall asleep again.

This was hard

I knew it would be

and was still surprised

when it was.

Return to me (caramia)

Return to me

for my heart wants you only 

hurry home, hurry home, 

Wont you please hurry home to my heart?

ritorna mi caramia, te amo

so lo tu, so lo tu, so lo tu mi amor

I planned for the vague

semi-empty,

partial life feeling

the hollow evenings

the restless nights

the impassive, unforgiving mornings.

I knew at points I would founder

feel unhinged

unguided,

adrift without my rudder

And yet,

when it all came about

I was still surprised

neither pleased nor sad

but resigned

Which is not to say

I begrudge your week away

or am not glad

even appreciative

that in this small way

I can help your happiness

I would do it again

will do it again

I don't even hope you know it was hard

because I know you do

I'm just saying

I shaved my Tuesday beard

and I'm ready for you to be home

We all are.

"Counting today, only three more days of life without mommy." -Mathis

This is the last poem of your Vacation

Come, 

did you say?

June

The Super Moon

It was the biggest moon of the year 

by 30,000 miles.  

That's what the experts said anyway.

  

It was highly anticipated, 

by me at least.  

A moon like that is usually associated with some event 

and get its own title

(Harvest Moon?) 

or is associated with strong emotions: la bella luna! 

(Lover's Moon?).  

Or maybe it just becomes the iconic mental image

you conger up

when you think of a particular season of your life

(the Dangerous Summer?)

In the end the actual appearance of the moon 

was slightly underwhelming.  

It looked very much 

like many other moons 

that have come to us 
over the mountains in the east.  

But as I lay in our bed, 

bathed in it's muted glow, 

your head resting on my chest, 

your breast cupped in my hand, 

and half a lifetime of memories of us together 
in my mind and heart,

I thought of the day

A day no more noteworthy

than the broadcast was historic

or the moon truly Super,

but a day we shared

I thought of slow dancing in the kitchen

to music that wasn't there

delivering baked goods to neighbours

pillow-talking in the parking lot
while waiting for our daughter to finish her shift

passing time together on the porch

contemplating the week

arguing about airplanes and urban legends

stowaways and story details

and finally finding relaxation

and connection

in a twenty minute micro-massage

Well at that moment

it felt like the perfect moon

one that took 21 years to create

I thought again of the sort-of historic broadcast
of our Prophet

dressed in a black suit

and a bright red tie

a tie that failed

to make it seem like he wasn't in mourning.

I thought of how losing your companion,

the one who has stood by you so long

you can't remember  

how standing alone felt,

must be like losing your backbone.

How do you ever stand the same way again?

I was sad for him

but just for a moment

because I could see your face

in the blue-gray light of the Super moon

our moon

and I was happy to have that moon 

and that moment

and happier still

for all the moons and moments

still to come.

Rodney Miller

June 1

Uh oh, there's a new sheriff --- err scratch that. There are some new Marshals in town. Ride Marshals that is. Watch out ladies of "Little Red Riding Hood" these two mean business. With Kerri Miller & Steven Jenn Larsen

Elaine is Summer

languorous days of leisure and levity

no pressing engagements
no imminent due dates
no timetable to monitor

Evenings stretch out endlessly
skies turn a purple-blue 
that forces you to stop what you are doing
to just admire 
and contemplate the mysteries of the Cosmos
or the enigma that is your fifteen year old daughter

For those few startling nights each year
you realize that what you thought was important
or pressing
or necessary...

Might not be
after all

Kids love summer
it's their favourite season

Is it any wonder
they love Elaine?

"Where's the nuther mom?" -Andrew Johnson

Elaine's Poem

Elaine has changed

I noticed it as we took the wrong fork in the trail

on our accidental hike to Angel's Landing

She is taller

In every other way

she is our same Elaine

deliberate,

methodical,

unaffected,

peaceful.

She still moves with her quiet confidence

unfazed and impervious to the 

urgings, 

opinions 

or frustrations 

of anybody around her

She still possesses a mystical maternal magnetism

still draws children (Noah) to her

like June bugs to a lamppost

She's still observant and introspective

still the picture of equanimity

still a cypher and a sphynx

But she has changed

She is taller

And I got to have an entire weekend with her

It was lovely

June 28

Finally, a family activity where we were ALL together... Taylorsville Dayzz movie in the park. 

The halcyon days of Summer.  Let's do this again next year.  Bring more watermelon and Kettle Korn and stay till the fireworks are over.  Yes?

Here's a family photo.  Wish it didn't make me look like I have three chins

July

Canada Day

On Canada Day 
I am thankful for Canadians,
those I'm related to
and the one I married.

July 6

Our anniversary bike ride, this time doubling as a re-con of the Bear Lake 1/2 Iron (wo)man bike course and a trial swim in open water (dans vêtement de plongée). 

 Twenty and One

Anniversary

Twenty one years together

half a lifetime, shared

July 18 near West Jordan, UT

Ted and Andrea Owens are going to be in town on Sunday. We are hosting a get together after church. Come at 12:30-ish and if you can, bring a finger food. Everyone is invited so please help spread the word! (And there is no choir....)

Zach Happens

July was official bike to work month (and, of course, Tour month).  I rode my bike to work every day I worked in July;  Zach noticed.  Over those four weeks he went from riding to work on a huffy/walmart special to purchasing two (two!) road bikes, one used, one new and the beginnings of a cycling wardrobe.  By the middle of August he was climbing canyons with us and planning on replicating the Mt Nebo climb from the Tour of Utah in the Fall.  Initially it was going to be Fall of 2014, but everything with Zach and cycling was on the fast track. The whole experience felt like adopting a toddler, watching him grow and then sending him off to college all in a three month span.  I enjoyed it though.  It was fun to watch somebody discover and fall in love with an activity that I love too.

"When I grow up I'm going to the Tour de France and then I will come home and watch myself on television." -Mathis

August

August 1

Jenn's trial tri-training. We got up at 5:30 (actually Jenn got up at 4 and had breakfast cause she read somewhere she needs to eat 3 hours before exercising ... I'm not supposed to talk about it). She went back to bed and then at 6 we went together to the rec center where she swam a kilometer (not pictured), then we drove out to Herriman and rode the Mountain View Corridor for 40(ish) miles. We ran into our buddy Zach the proselyte (one month into cycling and he's already all-in) told him to jump on and we rode a wicked tailwind north for 15 miles, grabbed some Strava PRs and top tens then ground our way back (into the wind this time) to Herriman. We dropped Jenn off and then she ran (I drove cause running and I aren't in love yet) the ten miles home. Not a bad morning's work.

August 10

My beautiful 15 mile morning run around Pineview Reservoir 

and Steven's grueling 113.9 mile, 11 000 feet of vertical climb, ending at the top of Little Cottonwood Canyon, can't believe you did it, you are amazing, honey! ride.

Have I told you that you're wonderful, today?

Has anybody told you that,

today?

You are.

You are wonderful

You are beautiful

You are loyal

You are generous of spirit

You are dedicated

You are talented

You are athletic

You are capable

You are forty-two and the only evidence of that is on your birth certificate

and those aren't even  all the reasons* that I love you

xome.

*but they are some of the less self-serving ones

August 13

Timpanogos cave with Mathis. (A family tradition when our kids turn 12. When you turn 16, Mathis, we'll hike to the top!)

Mathis is twelve.  There's 100% more priesthood in our home and we're eleven months away from three teen-agers (huzzah!).

August 15 

A car full of girls. (It's a little silly and loud.) Hooray for cousins!

Moffatts have a new van* (with a sunroof)

*'cept it's a car, not a van

August 20

The Tenth Annual Paul Smith (he's not dead yet) memorial ride. Starting time: 0-dark hundred hours (when all flash photography makes you look like you are possessed of an evil spirit ... and maybe you are seeing as how you are on your bikebefore most sane peoples' alarm clock has gone off) at the mouth of American fork canyon. About thirty cyclists showed up and quickly separated into groups of: really serious, mostly serious, kinda serious and just having fun riders. Sag support via moto dans sidecar. This was Zach(no longer the proselyte but now a member in good standing)'s first canyon ascent. We made the 8060 foot elevation trailhead summit parking lot in ~ an hour and twenty minutes, so kinda serious but definitely having fun. McGriddle cakes, juice and donuts served at the summit (and well earned). If Paul Smith (who is alive and well, thanks for asking) will have us again next year we'll be back. Great way to spend a Tuesday morning. Thanks everybody -S

Steven Jenn Larsen became friends with Desiree Marchant Syme.

August 27*

* and it earned you an invite to the twins's B-day party :)  but not concert tixx :(

Steven Jenn Larsen became friends with Elizabeth Jackson Johnson.

August 27*

* First you became friends with Scott and all of the Johnson children, esp Andrew, who, like Summer Smyth, still holds a place in his heart that all kids reserve for surrogate moms and almost grandmas.

It Had To Be You

I didn't tell you

but today,
in the temple

as you walked to the veil?

I could tell it was you
(it had to be) 

I could tell

by the way you moved

even though I didn't notice when you got up

and despite the fact
that everyone you were with
was dressed the same as you

 But it was you

I knew by your gait

and by the way your shoulder rolled forward as you walked

by the tilt of your head,

the easy confidence in your stride

so many minute details 
that make a person who they are

details that are imperceptible 
to the casual or occasional observer
but over the years 
leave an indelible imprint 
on a soul that has found its mate

It's those small details
 that draw me in

because they are familiar 

and comforting 

and warm
and they are you

I thought of a song

not a temple song

but a love song

"something in the way she moves

attracts me like no other lover ..."

I knew I shouldn't be thinking of that song
at that time

or in that place

but I did think of it

as I sat in the terrestrial world 
on my padded chair

and watched you join the reverent cue

of women who were dressed like you

but who were not  you

and then
before the familiar, warm ache in my chest
that sometimes accompanies thoughts of you
had a chance to cool,
 you disappeared through the veil

and for the briefest moment

I felt desperately alone

and oh so sad to see you go

Trader Joe's

What's so special about Trader Joe's?

Nothing really

 at least it wasn't the Gluten Free Mecca 

it was purported to be

But you got some Dark Chocolate Almonds

I got some Maple Cookies 

and we shared a bottle of cane sugar root beer 

while we sat on the parking lot curb 

and watched the late summer sky 

change from tangerine to aubergine 

It was a date-date 

the kind that tells you not to wonder  

if your marriage is on the right track 

because you've spent an entire evening 

doing nothing in particular 

and it still felt like something special 

An evening you may never look back on 

and remember specifically

but rather it will be banked

 in the vault of memories 
that have stacked themselves 

one on another 

and made one life out of two

September

You and Fall -- Fall and You

I just remembered

that it was in the Fall

that I met you

and courted you

and eventually fell so completely for you

that Fall

became my favourite season

because of you





Mathis Is Fall



 somber
 serious 
and thoughtful

Like Fall
Mathis is splendidly full 
of equal parts melancholy
and anticipation  

He is the sweet enjoyment of the final BBQ
of Labour Day weekend
mixed with the wistful last September evenings on the porch

Mathis loves the excitement of the first week of school,
the first college football game

He welcomes with anticipation
the first rust coloured leaves on the Oquirrhs
and the first morning you can see your breath
as you wait for the bus
the first pot of chili of chili season



Mathis' two favourite Holidays are
Christmas
and the first day of school

It's possible he may lose friends over that second one
Mathis will fill the void left by those fickle, summer chums
with numbers, statistics and math
and he won't feel one bit sad about it

A conversation with Mathis after his first orchestra performance:

Me: "Did you break your leg?"

Mathis:  "I don't know how to respond to that.  I played well but my leg is still intact."

Sometimes

Sometimes I want to gobble you up 

like a banana split 

with whipped cream and nuts.

Sometimes I want to admire you from afar 

(and from a-close) 

like a perfectly sculpted marble statue.

Sometimes I want to brag about you, 

like a close relation of physical renown, 

one who has achieved competitive greatness.

Sometimes I want to rub you down, 

like a thoroughbred 

that requires and merits 

precision maintenance.

Sometimes I want to buy you doughnuts 

(Doughnuts?[!]  that's crazy talk!).

Sometimes I want to protect you, 

to wrap you in feather down 

like a crystalline heirloom.

Sometimes I want to listen to you 

with my feet up 

on the perfect porch furniture 

at sunset.

Sometimes I want your advice

 the benefit of your hard earned knowledge 

from books and field work

Sometimes I don't

Sometimes I want to tell you:

Just shut that book already 

unplug that phone

put down that notebook and pen

 turn off that light 

and just be my wife and my lover

 you will be glad

 you'll see!

Seldom am I surprised by you 

Always I am proud of you.

Always I am in love with you.

This is David's favourite triathlon picture of you.  You look 'enlightened'.


fait accompli

You know the great thing 

about being part of a team?

The thrill of victory
is twice as thrilling,

The sweet taste of success
is doubly satisfying,

The brilliance of your shining moments
is twofold as bright,

and

the embarrassment of your defeats
the frustration of your failures
the misery of your suffering

is diminished

by half

Shauna Sorensen Jones

September 18

Trying to talk myself into a run, but the 35 mph winds make a compelling argument to stay inside...

Steven Jenn Larsen By far the most gratifying bike ride I’ve had all year was on a Saturday morning in early May. I had to work at 9 am and I had budgeted 75 minutes for a fast 25 mile ride. I hadn’t hit training goals for that week so the ride was important to me.

When I woke up and saw it was raining I debated going back to bed or just going to the rec and riding the spin cycle for an hour (depressing, you shouldn’t have to do that once the snow has melted).  But I have a training bike (aka rain bike) and why have one of those if not for mornings like these? I geared up for rain and headed out on the route I had mapped. Because it was Saturday and because it was raining, I didn’t see a soul. As I went through Daybreak I did see what I thought was a runner (cuz runners are more likely to brave the weather than cyclists, mostly, I believe, because bike components cost more to replace than running shoes, but that’s a debate for another time) but it turned out to be somebody trying to get to the bus stop and arrive there as dry as possible. 

On the road through Herriman and out to Kennecott the skies really opened up and what was just a sprinkle became a real rain, heading towards a downpour, my bike, my face and everything I was wearing was covered in mud and road grit and I was soaked to the skin … and it was at that point that I really began to enjoy myself, to enjoy the ride, to embrace the elements and inclement weather, to relish the fact that I could be there, doing this when so many others for various reasons could not or would not. I felt enlightened, like I was privy to some information that you can’t acquire in any other way than through physical effort and suffering. 

As I rode back through Daybreak I did encounter two people, runners (real ones this time) splashing through the puddles and leaping over the small streams that had developed in the gutters (it was really, really coming down now) and when I past them I could see they were both grinning. “They get it” is what I thought; they may not be my team but they are definitely my tribe.  They know exactly what I am feeling and thinking at this moment: "this is terrible and miserable and really uncomfortable. It might even be ill-advised but it feels absolutely perfect."

I spent the first 60 minutes of that ride questioning what I was doing and why I was doing it and I spent the last fifteen minutes (and every minute I have been on a bike since that day) reveling in the answers that I found. -S

Steven Jenn Larsen I want to ride my bike on that road. ~J

Shauna Sorensen Jones Come visit me!!! 

September 20 near West Jordan, UT

Two words... Peach Cobbler. (Why would anyone ever want to eat anything else?)

Antiphony

Just, 

I love  you.

You are so good to me  

You believe in me 

and take care of me 

and are always so wonderful to me  

You are the best husband 

the best supporter of me 

You just love me so much

xome

Wow, I should tickle you on the couch more often.

I do love you (so much).  

But you are wonderful 

and amazing 

and capable 

and far more 

slim, 

trim 

and attractive 

than a forty two year old mother of four 

has a right to be.

So you see,

It's easy 

to love you

xome (too)

September 23 near West Jordan, UT

Pie night! At our house Saturday the 28th after the Women's Broadcast (about 7:30-ish). It's Steven's birthday and he wants to eat pie and be with friends. Everyone is welcome. Bring a pie or just come visit. (If you can't eat pie I have gogurt.)

September 25 near West Jordan, UT

Snow! On the mountains! (yippee!)

Shauna Sorensen Jones posted to Steven Jenn Larsen

September 25 via mobile

Steve, your story of riding in the rain got me through a very windy, stormy run today, and it was awesome! 

September 26

The third annual Nebo Loop Birthday ride (this time with the Rookie Zach in attendance). The original plan was to do the full loop, Nephi to Nephi, 70 miles and only 40 of them scenic and/or enjoyable, but weather, time constraints and Jennifer (who swore she would never do that again but relented for Zach's sake) intervened. We drove to Payson, eyeballing the low skies and threatening clouds the whole time. Then we rode t'wards the clouds, then to the clouds, then through the clouds and finally above the clouds. You can't see Utah Valley, but it's down there somewhere. The truncated ride was only 37 miles (half up, half down) with ~ 5000 vertical feet of climb. We finished in almost exactly three hours and suffered just enough to know we did something but not enough to wish we hadn't. That's about as much as you can ask for. Thanks Jenn/Zach. Do it again next year? Full loop?

Desiree Marchant Syme was with Steven Jenn Larsen.

September 28

You went to the twins' birthday party and I tried (unsuccessfully) to ride one hundred miles in under five hours.  One day I'll get there, but not in the year of Jenn.

Then we had pies and friends.  It was the year of Jenn but it was my day (and it included lots of pie).

September 28

Thanks, everybody, for the birthday wishes and the pie. Especially the pie. Do it again next year?

October

"October is my favourite colour."  -Anon

October 1 Trail running with Connie, Liz, Heidi, Melissa and Melissa's Triathlon friends

Training for Redrock Relay, the event you weren't in (and then you were).




October Wedding 

We should have been married in October

It's the perfect month

mild weather,
my hair wouldn't have been humidity curled in our wedding photos

freshly harvested apples,
We could have had apple pie at our reception

Fall foliage,
we could have decorated the chapel with pink sumac, yellow aspens and red maples 

Football on TV 
we could have watched a BYU game on our wedding night

All my earliest memories of you
are from the Fall 
and an October when I fell in love 
maybe truly for the for the first time
but certainly for the last

October is an enchanted time
a crossroads
it's a month full of nostalgia for the warmth of Summer
and anticipation for the Holiday season

In October you can lose your heart
and forget your head
It's the kind of month 
that makes adopting a temple kitten
seem perfectly reasonable

Mathis: "We should pray about getting a cat."

Jenn:  "We're not praying about anything!"

October 11 You're in! (so are Matt and Liz and ... Melissa, cuz of course,Melissa, Heidi?)  One step closer to Boston.  Now all that's left is to run (fast) 

October 14

Super fun Superhero concert with my super stand partner (who is super cute!) — with Connie Call Robinson.

Steven Jenn Larsen became friends with Mike Jones.

October 18

A Sunday in the Fall

Started OK with waffles for the boys but it quickly began to fall apart, your hair was bad, nathan's hair was too and he didn't put on socks or a tie.

I left early when you should have left early instead. 

The chapel was too full and Raechel managed to miss vehicle both departures.  

You wore your black skirt and corduroy jacket with the purplish-maroonish, striped blouse that makes you look very together, like an outfit Sister Burt would wear.  

I wanted to tell you how nice you looked but you were late to church, you didn't like your hair and I knew you would have none of it.  

I wore my new suit with my favourite tie (a father's day gift?) but you didn't notice.  See? it just keeps spiraling down.  

Then Raechel left church early to go home and deal with (cramps?).  

All the priests decide not to choirside.

The bishop sets me apart and tells me to take care of Paul (other stuff too).  You finally notice my new suit but it makes you feel uneasy in the context in which you notice it.

Reachel doesn't want you to prioritize her life and she's not going on any stupid hike.  

Choir was full with many manly voices (including Kelly's) maybe things are brightening ... 

You scorched the carrots, I didn't salt the chicken enough, the brussels are bitter(er) and the turnip is desiccated (and burnt).  

Maybe things aren't brightening after all.  

We talked in family home evening about not trying to punish others when you are really punishing yourself.  You talked about abandoning me on a bike ride (while I slept completely unaware) and I thought about all the love I deny myself that you are willing to give if I will just stop wanting you to feel what I do ... but I say nothing.  But I think it and I think you know I'm thinking it.  Maybe you didn't but now you do.

You are so-so-so tired and you have to leave at five.  I send you to the couch for a rest while I clean up but you ask me to come and lay with you and I reluctantly do and you feel soft and you smell ... not of perfume but clean and comforting, the way you do when you're dressed and made-up and I can feel the soft curve of your breast through your blouse and I want to love you but the couch is too cramped and the kids are at the table ... chatting and role playing and getting along famously like those three do, we could make out on the couch and they probably wouldn't even notice but you have to leave at 5 and the kitchen needs to be cleaned and the food put away and cookies baked for Paul.

You take Raechel's ipod and suspend her from Luke for the week.  For a pre-missionary he's not a very good influence, for a pre missionary Reachel's not right in her heart or head.

Raechel has to stay late to clean up (and spend time with Luke).  I half believe her because she's telling half of the truth (the part not in parenthesis).

I clean the dishes and the kitchen, bake the cookies (a little flat cause I substituted a third cup o' coconut oil rather than get crisco out of storage (if there is some in storage, if not add it to your Costco list).

Paul loves his cookies and his mom loves that I stopped by, wish I had dropped Mathis off first, I'll do that next time, stay a while.

Raechel is done at 8 (not 9 or 9:30) but that is later than her normal 7:30.  We talk on the way home and she seems in a better place emotionally.  I get her fed and give her back her ipod.

You come home from the choirside, renewed by the songs and the spirit, feeling brighter than you have all day.

I make you stop going upstairs so I can see you in your all black choir outfit.  Black is slimming  but you don't need slimming, it rather makes you look more athletic.  You offer to let me help you out of your choir outfit and I accept.  

We kiss for a while and you do some abdominal crunches for me to feel (impressive) and then, more impressive still and sexier than what comes next (by an order of magnitude but sexy in an unexpected way) you do two pull ups, slick as you please and I am oddly aroused by the powerful grace of it, of you dressed head to toe in formal black attire dead-lifting your entire lean, muscular frame.  I think to myself "how many wives can do that and why does it turn me on?"

You then pull out another surprise, the  red negligee of yesteryear the one that has served as my muse on at least two occasions and observe "not bad for a 40 year old lady ..." or words to that affect.  I'm not real clear on this point because I, like you, am admiring the red and black laced frame I see in the mirror and it's sexy in the traditional way.  

We discuss lingerie and its appropriate time, place and purpose and you sort of commit to getting more, since you've downsized yourself and what you have is nice but doesn't seem to fit the same.  I think to myself that I hope this isn't idle banter but rather a commitment you follow through on because I really like lingerie.  Well, I like you in lingerie the way you like a gift more when it comes in colourful paper and wrapped in a bow ... that's the way lingerie feels.  Not every day is a gift day and not every gift needs to be wrapped, but it's always fun when it is ...  you know.

We adjourn to downstairs and chips and dips and Modern Family (a birthday gift that didn't have to come in lingerie to be really appreciated) and you eat chocolate and the day feels like it ended much better than it started ...

That was yesterday

I just realized that I didn't give you a foot rub, but I did rub your legs and now that I think of that I'm smiling a little.  I will give you a foot and arm rub tonight, cause you'll be done with your concert and ready for a vacation

"You haven't lived until you've eaten at the Egg & I!" -nathan.

You wanted a facebook family photo and you got it... mostly.

Greg Larsen Quote of the trip, in reference to the ladder that I built to get on the trampoline: 

NATHAN- This ladder is surprisingly stable. 

ME- I built it. 

NATHAN - You must have had help, I don't believe you could have built it by yourself

It was all of it (just... everything)

It wasn't just your hair

which worked

splendidly

and was long, soft and silky 

and bid me run my fingers through it

It wasn't your $10 jeans

that fit better than two pair which were more expensive

Or your sweater which was a good colour on you

and complimented the season 

and the remaining colours on the trees in our yard

It wasn't your makeup

that accentuated your eyes

or the perfume you put on just for me

but that wafted away during the double (mis)adventure savings card date

before I had a chance to enjoy it fully

It wasn't even the extra effort you made

to relax 

and let your body enjoy a moment

with me, 

despite the hour 

and the house full of children

All of those things were part of it

Just like you standing in the kitchen

in loose fitting pajamas 

but still managing to look lithe and alluringly athletic

and making me love you

and tell you that I love you

was part of it.

It's the entirety of you

of us.

It's the way that one day

like yesterday

spent together

feels like a gift

still.

Hallowe'en

Hallowe'en is not your favourite Holiday

but it is not without its charms

at least not while nathan is young and involved

It seems unlikely

he will disengage

from this

or any Holiday with traditions he can embrace

no matter his age

So keep your pumpkin carving knives 

honed and ready

Sugar

Sugar is poison

Sugar is toxic

You don't like sugar (this is your reminder)

In case you forget... when you forget

cause Sugar 

makes your memory 

squishy 

and sludgy

Sugar makes you slow

Sugar turns you from a runner to a jogger (yep)

Sugar is a frenemy, 

a delicious lie, 

a sweet seductress. 

Sugar is tasty regret

Sugar makes you spongy like a jelly-roll (mmm, jelly-roll)

Sugar is your Achilles heel and your soft underbelly

Sugar makes your jeans tight 

Sugar tells you:
 "hold onto your old clothes, don't give them to Friends of MS!"

not just in case

but cuz 
(cuz... Sugar)

Sugar is your reward for not eating sugar  (I know, right?)

Do you see what Sugar does?  
Do you see? 
(!)

Sugar makes you feel bleeeeeeeeeeeeh

November

Friends > Jennifer/ Connie/ Liz < Sisters


What do you call it 
when you're more than friends
but somebody messed up
before you were born
and forgot to make you sisters?

When you're each other's biggest 
cheerleader, 
fan 
and support
When you can finish not just one another's sentences
but the sentences for the third person who's not present?

Whatever you call that
that's You and Liz and Connie.

If you started a chicana street gang
you would be 
Las Tres Amigas

If you were a singing trio
you would be
Two Altos and a Soprano

If you did Ragnar as a three woman team
You could call yourselves
Faster than our husbands



Yes
more than friends
more than teammates
more than stand partners
more than companion choir voices



Maybe not sisters

But maybe more 

Wow, that was really, just... wow.

A weekend of singing with friends.  

When you spend two days doing something you love, with people you love and without stress it makes you look like ... Movie stars I guess.  Maybe you guys should have been on the playbill instead of the Trans-siberian front man with the mullet and the violin sticking out of his neck?  I, for one, would have been more interested and more likely to pay for that.

November 12

A professional picture (thanks Carson!) from our marathon singing weekend. Just as fun as a running weekend with friends... but with nicer clothes and hair. — withElizabeth Phillipps and Connie Call Robinson.

Avg age: 36, avg number of kids: 4.3. You look more like three sorority sisters than 3 middle aged moms (just sayin'). Also, love the scarves. -S

Connie Call Robinson I LOVED spending the weekend with Jenn and Liz! It really was sooo much fun! And yes we look just like cute young sorority sisters!

(I'm sorry, Connie and Elizabeth, that I bring your average age up to 36) ~J

Beth Wallace Emett Beautiful ladies! I want a weekend like that! 

Elizabeth Phillipps Sorry  Jenn and Connie that I brought up the average kids to 4.3. 

Steven Jenn Larsen

November 13

This picture is for you, Connie. Our favourite orchestra conductor. (We are not stalkers, Kayson.) — with Connie Call Robinson

"You have a crush?  Not cool mommy." -nathan

November 17

A wet soggy afternoon, with weather somewhere between fall and winter (coloured leaves on the trees but rain turning to slush then snow, in the air). I brought ponchos for everybody but nathan refused his and was completely soaked and huddled into a soggy, shivering ball before the first quarter ended. We made it just past midway through the second quarter. When Bronson Kaufusi intercepted a pass and returned it for a TD to put BYU up 35-3 that's when we decided to we pack it in. A shortened version of the family football game this year. We went to the BYU creamery for ice cream afterwards (cause tradition) and home for hot chocolate and soup. Not a bad day at all. -S

Michael Larsen

November 23

Its cold, really, really cold...  — with Steven Jenn Larsen and Justin Cheney.

Antiphony Too

Every time I see your car in the garage

 I get an excited twinge

 and then sad

 I need to stop going in the garage

That's how poems are born.

Steven Jenn Larsen

November 26

Dippin Day. Actually last Friday was and I was freezing my toes off at a football game in Indiana so kudos to nathan, Mathis (and judging from the artistic perspective in many of the photos, Ellen was likely involved) for documenting the event. 

New for this year chocolate dipped salty caramels (special thanks to Kerri Miller for the recipe) and Egg Nog (plus all the standards: Olympian cream, raspberry lemon, mint, orange etc.). Chocolates are dipped that can only mean one thing: Christmas is nigh upon us. -S

Callipygian

Also, 

I've been thinking about your bum,

some

today.  

They have not been entirely wholesome thoughts,

but like Adam, 

I am not ashamed.

I do feel bad about biting you though

that was maybe uncalled for.

I told you about how sometimes 

I want to gobble you up

right?

You can't claim that you weren't warned.

Me:  "Did you know that the thing that turns me on about you the most, from a strictly physical standpoint, is is your bum?  That didn't used to be the case.  I tell you these things cause I know you spend lots of time thinking and worrying about what turns me on."

You: "Is it because my breasts are small now?"

Me: "No, it's because your bum looks really great."

Steven Jenn Larsen

November 28

I am thankful for my kids and nieces and nephews and the Park Village Turkey Trot. (And my body that lets me run.) Good job, running, everyone! Congratulations, Mathis, on your first 10k. You rocked it! — with Elaine Larsen and Jane Moffatt. 

A really fun Thanksgiving, just about perfect.  I remember thinking that very thing as I snapped that photo of you and Karen "Perfect, this is a wonderful moment, in great day that's been part of a banner year, your banner year, the year of Jenn."  What could make it better?  Your parents here to join the celebration?  Do you suppose you can get along with your mom over Turkey dinner?

November 28

Thankful for so many things but most of all family ... and pie. -S — with Lauren Christiansen and 4 others

π

You melted my heart

with your come hither gazes

and promise of pie

December

nathan Is Winter

Not cold, dreary, sad, inversion winter

But happy, wonderland winter
the kind of weather that inspires songs like sleigh ride
or let it snow
songs that anyone can relate to 
even if you've never ridden in a sleigh
or had a white Christmas

nathan is the improbably fun part of winter
the  misshapen 'snow forts'
and snowball fights
the directionless, meandering boot prints in the backyard  snow 
that always make me grin
when I think our carefree child that left them

nathan's joie de vivre is contagious
even when it's tiring
nathan will keep Christmas 
(and every Holiday tradition) 
in his heart 
and spread it to everyone he touches
and he will be loved for it

nathan knows that life is one great big apple
and because of that knowledge
nathan always gets that first glorious bite
and often the second

nathan is a Romantic
(I just realized)
duh

If our season(s) of raising children 
must have an end
happy are we 
that it ends with nathan



nathan makes me smile

A conversation with nathan:

Me: "You know what I like about this store (Harmon's)?"

nathan:  "They don't overdecorate like some stores I know."

Me: "I was going to say they have sour dough bread chip samples and flavoured olive oil to dip it in, but OK." 

"Mommy it must be hard buying all those Christmas presents.  If it makes it easier I will smile extra big." -nathan

December 1st  Christmas choir concert (A tribute to Christ... don't get me started) you won.  It's not a competition, but you won.  Everybody (even other choir members) said so.  

It was the first time I really loved the Charlie Brown Arrangement of Adeste Fidelis.  I think it was because I got to watch you direct and lead the choir where you wanted it to go.  Before that Sunday I only got to hear you and the choir, but I was shielded by our partial, dividing kitchen wall.  The visual experience took it to another level.  I could follow your  movements and watch as the choir responded to you leading them, elevating them, drawing music (like water from a well) from them.  It was a sight to behold.  And I'm far from the only one to think so...

Steven Jenn Larsen December 1  I LOVE my ward choir. (Love!) ~J

Connie Call Robinson I love my ward choir conductor!

Kristin Hall Norris They sounded awesome! (They respond to their director)

Beth Wallace Emett I agree with Connie, you make us great Jenn

Gillian Burge You all sounded so powerful and amazing last night!

Steven Jenn Larsen Don't forget about the musical stylings of Kelly DeHaan andKristin. They were spectacular! I don't think I've ever had more fun directing the choir. I'm so glad we get to do it again on the 22nd! ~J

Karla King-Leleux I would have loved to see you in action!!

Steve Michaelis So Fun!! Theres something special about singing with your friends about what matters most to you. Thank you choir for creating a moment of peace on earth


December 2

Lots of fun concerts this week! We start off with symphony tonight...

Spooning leads to ...

I kissed your neck, twice
Oh, you said. Do that again.
So I did (and more)

December 3

You are all invited to the Sterling Singers' magnificent Christmas concert. Organ, piano, brass, a glorious choir and my favourite conductor, Kelly DeHaan.

The concert was pretty amazing, and you did look fabulous and not because of Afterglow goggles (feel free to use that term, it's a common phenomena with me at least usually resulting in warm thoughts, overlooking faults and often poetry) and I'm glad we went but it was not easy for us either (I hope you know we [me, Susan Bothwell{!}, Elaine, Mathis & nathan in the Mazda, in a snowstorm for three hours] had a hard time too).

It's possible  you overbooked the first week of December.  I'm choosing to blame that fact and your unpredictably fluctuating cycles for the fact that you cried when I made you eat a lime (even after I made it sweet for you).

Downward Facing Gabe

Then on Saturday the 7th .

Costco Date

"Here's the thing" you said
as we stood among the spiral cut hams
and unimpressive chuck roasts
in the Costco butcher block

"This year I want an extra turkey;  
I want a turkey for my birthday!"



You were so earnest

and despite the fact that you felt 
tired
and hungry
and depleted by illness
and all the samples had gluten 
and there were no cheeses of the world
(only dried meats from Spain and Italy)
and I got a hot dog and you didn't ...

you still managed to look 
happy 
(the season)
and festive 
(your scarf)
and youthful 
(your still athletic appearing frame, shaped by the previous year's efforts)
and exuberant 
(the light in your eyes at the prospect of a turkey, on your birthday!)

It was at that very moment
on our Thursday Costco date
that I fell in love with you
for the thousand and first time

Shauna Sorensen Jones I start about every other sentence with "Here's the thing." Ask Mike Jones. It's true. Plus, if the woman wants a turkey, you should get her a turkey!

Clothing drive at Aguirre's

December 15th 

Last choir rehearsal in casa de Larsen. It has been a music filled year. Thank you everybody for sharing your talent with my family every week and for bringing Jennifer so much joy and making her so proud (good pride not 'Ezra Taft Benson wouldn't be pleased' pride). I will miss this and I wouldn't have thought that would be the case back in January when I was still budgeting time for Sunday naps. -S

Steve Michaelis Thank You Larsen family. I love our choir. Great people + Great Music + a little bit of crazy.

All the Small Things

It's so often the small things
that draw me to you

today it was the graceful 
and unexpectedly enticing
curve 
at the small of your back

There's always perfume, lipstick and lingerie
a button down blouse
and black-lace slip
but those are so predictable
like adding bacon* to whatever you're cooking
so delicious
but so obvious

The small things are generally the personal things
things that perhaps only I notice
the small daily gifts 
that come from being married to you

There's your all black, 
velvet(ish) 
choir/orchestra ensemble
complete with shimmering earrings and necklace

There's the way that sometimes
when a hug lingers a bit
it feels as though I could wrap my arms around you twice
and how occasionally
you will stay in my arms long enough
and close enough
to let me try

There's the surprising Sunday kiss
in the kitchen 
in the middle of the chaos
 in front of whomever may happen to be around

There's how the light of the moon 
turns your now green eyes
a pale, silver-blue
the colour you say they once were
before we  meet
and shared pillow shrouded midnight glances 

There's how you look in summer
in a cerulian sweater
or gingham printed blouse
or pink anything

There's the length of your hair
that you can now put in a pony tail
and the way that pony tails make you look like a teen-ager
and how that makes me grin inside and out

There's the delight you feel
walking through the neighbourhood on clear winter nights
or the pleasure you derive
from shoveling freshly fallen snow

There's watching you pull away from me on a canyon bike ride,
out of the saddle
breathing easily
each pedal stroke stronger
and more confident 
than the last

There's your strong arms
that do pull-ups with aplomb
and your graceful hands
the make pie crust with panache

There's the sheepish look on your face
early in the morning
as you emerge from the bathroom
naked as the day you were born
not wanting the weight penalty 
of any even the most insubstantial article of clothing
when you step on the scale

There's the occasions
rare as rubies and equally precious
when you want nothing more
than to curve your sleep warmed body against mine
and just be still together in early morning sunshine.

It's all those things and more
that make me love you

*Sticking with the salty-pork metaphor, I want to go on record that there's nothing wrong with bacon.  There's a reason it is so loved.  A man could eat bacon every day and go to bed every night with a smile on his face and warmth in his belly.  His days might be shortened, but those would be some very satisfying days.  

December 22

I fell asleep before you came up and I could tell you all the wonderful things you and I accomplished this week the ways that we kept Christmas in our hearts (like post visitation Ebeneezer Scrooge):

On Monday night you assembled all the gift baskets (with a little help from Elaine and the boys.

On Tuesday we caroled our friends and you told Raechel to shut up ... She totally deserved it.  Even reformed Ebeneezer would have done the same.

On Wednesday we caroled with the youth and the bishopric and saved the Bishop's skin.  You made Merrilynne cry out of happiness and gratitude.

On Friday we got married, several times, for couples who were in love and waiting for us to stand in for them and say yes when asked if they would love each other forever.

On Saturday we attended yet another wedding, this one with a Mariachi.  

On Sunday all the work you have done as a choir director came to glorious fruition.  So many spiritually indelible moments but the one that stays foremost in my mind is you, directing the congregation in the most rousing and moving rendition of Joy to the world ever.  You head is tilted back slightly, your smile is as broad as I have ever seen it, and somehow it stays, even when you sing.  Your hands are clenched, your arms raised and you beaming.  Rapturous, that's the only adjective that comes close to capturing what it feels like.  The Rapture, it's here, now or as close as we will get in this life.  Sing choirs of Angels, that's what I thought at the time.  You showed us what heaven would be like (Heather Riddles observation).  

It was quite a week, and I'm sad I fell asleep before I told you so.

Liz (holding hand up in my face) "No, whatever you're going to say it has to wait!" (Big hug) 

This is what Kelly sent...

This must be said*:

I want to one day magnify my callings like you do. That was the best Christmas sacrament meeting ever. Hands down. With the kids and the cello duet and the special arrangements etc. and the choir has never sounded so good. It's a huge choir and they love it and that's because of your glorious leadership and fabulous musicality. Thanks for humoring me and letting me play. I felt like I was contributing again. Meant a lot. You are awesome Jennifer Larsen.

*I may have said all of that (and more, also many other people have called, texted, emailed similar sentiments) already, but I know how much it means to hear it from Kelly, so I will let him have the last word.

A Tradition Is Born (Encore!)

Jennifer Larsen

so, Connie and I are in cahoots about a Christmas carol sing-a-long tonight

at our house

I was this close - to inviting everyone over in the email I sent the choir this morning

just a low key, no pressure, sing to your heart's content

how do you feel about that?

Steve Larsen

fer-when?

tonight?

Jennifer Larsen

yep

I was gonna and then Connie said, who wants to do this?

and I said me!

and I really really want to make this a tradition

I thought it up last night

Steve Larsen

huh

well

sure

I don't see a downside

other than

you want to leave the stage while there is still applause

Jennifer Larsen

this is the after party

Steve Larsen

sure

Jennifer Larsen

where we get to hang out

Steve Larsen

and if it's like you said

low key

Jennifer Larsen

yep

very

Jennifer Larsen

I posted it on facebook already:

So, Connie and I are not done with singing yet. We are hosting the first annual Christmas carol sing-a-long (name may be subject to change) at my house tonight. Everyone is invited so bring/invite friends and family. It will start at 7:00. Come when you can, stay as long as you like. Bring something to share if you feel so inclined. We will be singing out of the hymnbook but if you have something else you would like to sing, bring it.

Um, who wants to play the piano? We can take turns.

If you can't come this year, there is always next year. (Did I mention this was annual?)

Yikes, I had better get to work...

Steve Larsen

If only Lin and Connie show up

don't take it personal

(ly)

Jennifer Larsen

nope

even if it's just Connie

I will be satisfied

I want to make it tradition

Steve Larsen

this will be our 'last thing'

before Christmas

maybe we carol people as they come in the door, give them their orange and call it good?

:)

Jennifer Larsen

hah

good idea

Steve Larsen

what time-ish?

Jennifer Larsen

7

what shall I make?

I think we might be out of hot chocolate

I talked to my mom for a couple of hours

Steve Larsen

I want to hear

but can't now

pillow talk it up later?

Jennifer Larsen

not really much to tell you

just a good conversation

Steve Larsen

pretend

so I stay awake for it

Jennifer Larsen

k

Steve Larsen

see you about 6:30

Jennifer Larsen

is there something easy and not too unhealthy?

Steve Larsen

yes

and probably not

oh

make a double batch of creamed spinach

save half

put the other out

Jennifer Larsen

mmm

good idea

Steve Larsen

with some crackers and stuff

Jennifer Larsen

yep

liking that idea

Steve Larsen

k

love you

Jennifer Larsen

xome

Steve Larsen

(you're pretty amazing you know and you've had a pretty amazing year, did you notice?)

K

now going for real

Jennifer Larsen

you must be going through old emails and blogs and facebooks

it's fun

Steve Larsen

mm  hmm

K

gotta go

December 23 Steven Jenn Larsen with Kristin Hall Norris and 3 others

First annual "Just because choir's not at our house anymore doesn't mean you have to stop singing here, Christmas carol sing-along" (it's a working title). If you missed it this year it will be back. Instant tradition, if there is such a thing. -S

Raechel, present and content.  Not necessarily a Christmas miracle, but more a pleasant stocking stuffer (how nice and thoughtful).

Caramel popcorn.  It's the Holidays so I'm OK with it.  Plus it makes my girls happy.  I guess I should remember that.  For 2014 I will be OK with Caramel popcorn (my pledge, for my girls).

They played it again (while we were chatting)  and it reminded me of this email ... from December 2nd I think, anyway, I still feel the same, 21 days later.

Pandora is playing Last Christmas by Wham!.  It's making me smile.

I love you.  I hope you know that.  And I hope you know that I am proud of you, almost always and I'm happy you have so many talents, so many interests and so many good friends to share them with (it was the Wham Christmas music, it's making me feel nostalgic and sentimental and reminding me more of why and how I love you).

that's all.  I think

xome

Christmas Pyjamas

These are pyjamas
they are the best gift you will get this year
because they are the harbinger of Christmas
the keeper of Christmas Eve
my favourite night of the year

There's a magic on this night
all the built up excitement
the baking
the caroling
the wrapping and decorating
it's all for the next morning

and if I've done my due diligence
there is a gift I've found
that's just for you
Something that I've thought long about
something that's part of me
something that will let you know how much I love you
and how much this year,
your year 
the year you shared with me
has meant 

Every time you wear these pyjamas
or wash them
or fold them
you can remember this night
and this gift...

No way, Wham Last Christmas is playing again (again!)  Yeah, it's a dopey break-up song but for some reason it makes me feel nostalgic and merry and in love all at the same time.  The same feeling I get when I look at this photo from last year's Christmas Eve storm (that was a great gift, wish I could take credit)  

I'm going to go home now, have a sugar cookie or two and give you a wrap around hug

Merry Christmas then,

xome