To Someday! (and FOR FRODO!)

I thought yesterday was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day because when I woke up there was a little draft in my heart. I think my x-door neighbor, Martha left a door open when she snatched up her kids and flew back to Hawaii. Were you born in a barn, Martha!? Shut the door behind you, for goodness sakes.

Besides the draft in my heart, it was Sunday. Sunday = meetings and responsibilities and pressures. Sunday = no rest for the weary.

To top it all off, our new church time is @ two freakin' o'clock. Hello! Who in their right mind goes to church at two freakin' o'clock?

It didn't help my spirits that the 2008 Duggar Family Christmas episode of 17 and Counting was on.

The one where the whole famdamily recreates a live nativity for a local parade on a float they built themselves, complete with stable, manger, HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESUS signs, costumes, camels, donkeys, goats and over 2,000 Christmas lights. All with 35-week-pregnant Mom Duggar pleasantly orchestrating the entire project.

And I can't even get my bathrooms cleaned!!

Bottom line, yesterday I was draaaaaaagging my feet back into reality.

But then something happened. Something magical. My Young Women's board and I got kicked out of the kitchen while we were planning our New Beginnings night. And then we got kicked out of the cultural hall. So we snuck into a secret empty room behind the stage, which had a sign on the door reading: ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Luckily, I don't heed signs (unless they're from the universe) so we let ourselves in and pulled up a seat on the floor. The room must have had a magic spell on it because an hour and forty five minutes later we were still there on the floor, spilling our guts to each other as if we were at a slumber party. It couldn't have been any more amazing if there had been a wardrobe in the corner full of fur coats and a lamp post. There we sat in a CHURCH, of all places, being REAL and HONEST about our ISSUES!

That definitely put a spring in my step.

And then church @ two freakin' o'clock wasn't half bad. In fact it was really gooooood. But then living in my ward is like living in an episode of Sponge Bob. Even the boy who tried to choke my son during Sunday School is endearing once you realize he's just playing his role on the set of an underwater cartoon world. The fact that's he's never been allowed to trick-or-treat and his mom hangs a sign on the door during Christmas that says Santa, please don't stop here just gives his character more depth and dimension.

Church just got better and better, and by the time Young Women's was over I no longer felt guilty that my bathrooms are dirty and that I have no interest in having a baby every year and home schooling my 17 children while recreating a live nativity on wheels.

I just felt so sorry for all of you who are not the YW Prez in the Sponge Bob ward. Best gig ever!

Not trying to rub it in that I am seriously more blessed than you.

Just saying.

As the cherry on top of a very sweet day, Lord of the Rings was finishing their weekend marathon so me and the hub and the kids all snuggled on the couch and watched it until our necks were stiff and our backs ached.

I LUB LUB LUB Lord of the Rings. It's one of the greatest stories ever told. Who doesn't want to give Samwise Gamgee a huge shaka brah? And Gandolf too, and Strider and Sting and Merry and Pippen and of course, Frodo. Dear, dear Frodo.

These characters are like old, dear friends to me because my mom and dad read the entire series to my siblings and I when we were children. One of the only fond memories I have of my dad is him filling my childhood with these brave, magical creatures who faced unimaginable obstacles with courage and heart and sacrificed everything for the cause.

Mahalo, Daddy!

I got the same charge I always get when Strider raises his sword before leading the troops into battle against the orcs and cries FOR FRODO!

And when Sam carries Frodo up the mountain to destroy the ring.

And when the dead show up to help the living fight their battles.

I lub it when the dead show up to help the living fight their battles.

It was fitting that I ended the holiday season and began the new year in Middle Earth because it turned my mind to the stuff that life (and death) are made of.

And to a letter I recently found that my dad wrote to me on December 25th, 1981, three months before he died.

My Dear Daughter,

I love yo so much. . . . your mom and I felt very close to you while you were in the pre-existence--and now we are together again on the earth. But even tho' we are together our memory of our former life and love together has been erased. For some reason you and I have not been as close as I would have had it be--but the day will come when our father will give us our memory back and we'll know and love each other again so much. . . . I will love you always and if I can ever help you someday I will try to do it.

With all my love,

Daddy


Shucks. I've always felt kinda cheated that he never did help me someday.

But maybe it's not too late. Maybe someday is now!

Or maybe it's been someday all along, and I was just too dumb to get it.


Anyways, cheers to Someday!