Back to Our Mountain Home - We Waltzed in the Moonlight

Greetings.

I am sorry to report that there have been glitches in the blogging tool and a couple of postings have been lost - sorry. There were, I think some valuable insights, but recreating them seems now back looking instead of forward. So I will move on and tell you about a most wonderful night and day.

I find myself continuing to wake in the wee hours, rested sufficient to appreciate the moments of think, meditation and reflection. Last night I found myself contemplating the interest and contributions of the many who have come to my rescue with prayers, thoughts, cards, visits, calls and thoughts. What an amazing thing and testimony of the human spirit to reach out and to help. Truly there is an element of the Good Samaritan in each of us and an extra portion seems to be resident among our family, friends and associates.

As I considered these acts of kindness, I was drawn to those whose service and gift centered on the gift of food and feeding. How I remember looking at that hospital breakfast - a small muffin and 1/2 cup of oatmeal. I knew I still had some life in me because I didn't know whether to cry or just chuck the tray across the room. I might have had I had the energy to try!

Then, Thursday, a special friend brought a feast of specially prepared salads that were delicious, good and such a relief from the institutional food of the hospital. Then once more, that night before the Friday I was to be released, the Friday when life seemed to be fading and one foot was reaching across the veil, that night, Rebecca Carter came back and brought in what might well have been my last supper. It was an incredible feast, a dinner prepared by the skill of her sweetheart that was so savory and good!

And as I reflected on the gift and the talent that was surely his good and hers, I realized in a deeply profound way how our gifts of service with our talents, be they great or small is perceived by the masses as "unto one of the least of these, you do it unto me." Then when I was released, no doubt blessed by that meal's nourishment and enjoyment, I went to the condo and a neighbor I had never met, brought in dinner that was good, kind and a gift of love, support and a blessing.

So be it the gift of music bestowed by my children and grandchild in those first challenging days, so enjoyed and healing, the gift of presence from concerned and loving friends, or these special gifts of talent and service-seasoned meals, I have been blessed and inspired by what we can do to reach out and bless. I look froward to being a better giver in the days ahead. Those were the thoughts and lessons of the night. Thank you Rebecca and each of you. Your gifts will be multiplied.

The Dawn of a Perfect Day

After the lessons of the night, the dawn found Judy and I strolling through the beautiful temple grounds of the Provo Temple. The flowers and fragrances were energizing and calming -- interesting combination. Then we went inside for a couple of hours of service and came out uplifted and ready for the other adventures of the day.

I was at the office a little early to great the staff and learned that a major breakthrough had been achieved in the technology of our business for speed and reliability of the Heritage Makers service. Wow! Another gift of talents to appreciate.

Then I had appointments with a nutritional counselor, long-time friend and associate Steve Smith who helped me get set for the needed improvement in whole-food nutrition that will support me in my new resolve to live with more focus on a healthy lifestyle and foods. He introduced me the URI products. I am sure I will be sharing my experience with this product as time goes on.

Then it was to see the doctor for blood work. Ever notice how long it takes to get in - beyond the appointment? Then I remembered I was not the only one who was calling on his service and that this was one more exercise in developing patience. The wait for the doctor was therefore healing to my impatience. After a brief stop at the store for some groceries, we drove toward our home for the first time in over three weeks.

As we approached Diamond Fork Canyon, where I had conducted Youth Conference Survival and Handcart programs for literally thousands of young people and church groups in the '70s, I suggested to Judy that we go into the canyon and look for spring watercress. As we drove through the canyon to check the springs, I realized that I had not been back into the canyon for many years. My mind was flooded with the memories of hundreds of days and a sea of faces of people I had helped lead, taught to build matchless fires, to climb the mountain, to rappel down the cliffs, walk alone in the night and to focus on the weightier matters of life, of family, of personal spirituality, of confidence and of forward thinking. Savoring those moments was sweet and tender.

The canyon was dressed in its spring beauty - just for me I am sure. It was another gift of joy for the day of my return home.

As we climbed the hill and dropped into our little mountain cover of aspens, my heart stretched and I knew again how sweet coming home is. We set the groceries on the counter and went to the front porch swing. It became a magical moment as the nesting bluebirds welcomed us back as they darted back and forth from the nesting box just a few yards from the swing. We were watching Rocky, the rock chuck, nibbling off the fresh new growth of greens when we were buzzed by hummingbirds already back from their hiatus to warmer climbs. Again they buzzed as if to say "well, we are back, where's the welcoming feeders?" Judy got the hint and retrieved the feeders filled with fresh (fake) nectar. Spring is indeed back to the mountain and so are we.

We walked around the property hand-in-hand to check the effects of the long winter on the little seedling trees we had planted, four, five, six and seven years ago. The growing season and water are in short supply here on the mountain and many of the surviving trees are yet barely taller than when they were seedlings. But a precious few have withstood the challenge of the environment and are thriving.

Then our good friend John Ward came by and we had a good talk about our friends on the mountain and the Association. Again I was reminded about how good friends are and how sweet their association is. I find this special friend often in my thoughts and hopes for joy in living.

Then it was a simple dinner with my sweetheart as the last of the day faded over the west mountain and the blue sky was replaced by a brilliant bright full moon. The aspens and the hills were illuminated by its glow - wonderful!

Then to cap the evening, Judy put on her favorite Josh Grobin music. We listened to his great gift of voice and then I took my sweetheart's hand and we waltzed in the moonlight.
This moment, opportunity, gift was not lost. The day was perfect, full and sweet. I look forward to the next dance.

More tomorrow. 'Til then, Onward and Upward!
Doug