Memorial Day

Memorial Day this year struck me very forcefully with one of those "this time a year ago" feelings. Because it was on Memorial Day -- just last year -- that Mike sent me off (with flowers in a root beer can) to visit my dad's grave all alone . . . at the same time that I was only just experiencing the overwhelming feelings that God was showing me something -- an opportunity -- concerning another child. And I did not feel I could do it. 

I could not make a decision because I was terrified to say yes to trying for another baby when all sense warred against it. But terrified to not do something God might be asking of me (or even offering me). But at the end of three weeks of prayers and fasting and so much opposition, turmoil, and fear, I finally asked myself to conscientiously pick out which times I had felt peace and not fear since the impression had come . . . and to see what course of action was suggested by those feelings. There were three very specific times when I knew I'd felt completely calm and peaceful . . . and each of those times, I had to admit, had been associated with the feeling that I could do this. I could have this child. I wanted this child -- whoever it was. 

One of those moments of peace, amidst the tears and uncertainty and overwhelming realities of my life's demands at that time, came at the cemetery on Memorial Day last year as I sat at my dad's grave and then made my way over to my grandparents' (the ones I'd never known in mortality -- the same ones who had been, in life, a bit concerned over my parents' choice to have so many children) and felt this tremendous feeling of just love and support and confidence from all of them. They were all behind me. And rooting for me. And proud of me. I felt as if they, now seeing things I could not, were lovingly encouraging me and telling me I could do this. 

And now . . . a year later . . . I have! 

I have not only made the choice, but actually already carried and given birth to the very child God was offering me. And praise be to my Heavenly Father and all the angels who encouraged it! And what miraculous things can occur in just a short year's time in this already short mortal life!

But! Back to this Memorial Day. The kids and I all met my mom at the Ogden cemetery where several of my ancestors are buried (I wish more were! As it is in visiting these graves growing up that I have become more familiar with these ancestors than the rest). Anyway, it's always a little wild with all the younger kids trying to climb on stones or run off. But I love this tradition and am glad it worked this year. As usual we got ice-cream at Farrs after (which was the main reason I loved the tradition when I was little). Here are pictures from the day, but first the small snippet I wrote about it on Instagram:

At the graves with my mom. Calling back wandering toddlers. Telling them to put flowers back on the strangers' stones they just took them from. Looking at old black and white photos. Listening to the stories of these people -- family -- who died generations before I came. (Edward Allison alone in the pest house with smallpox. Great grandma Effie hiding in the back of the wagon transporting her newly-married sister and brother-in-law to their honeymoon destination. Thomas Wallace in the Scottish orphanage. And . . . if Joe Wallace's football team lost a player . . . him making sure the other team lost one as well.) Also, just realizing that Starling and I are both tenth children and both share parts of great great grandma Eliza Allison's name in our own (which, I think, more than deserved the only iris that bloomed in our yard this year.)

This last picture was from a day or two after taking the kids to the Ogden Cemetery with my mom. We went on Sunday afternoon to the cemetery where my dad and his parents are buried and lo and behold my brother John and some of his family and my sister Kathy and some of her family all happened to show up at the same time. It was fun to have John and Kathy tell my kids memories of my Allred grandparents since I never knew them.