Understanding and Building a Heritage of Love

It's 4 AM. I beat the mountain bird choir, the sun and my sweetheart out of bed today. As I indicated in the last post, I thought I would share some realizations with you that have been clarified in the recent events. I have been pondering how to share the love of my life with you.

I hope that my experience will help to refocus your own love and realization of the precious gifts we receive and can give to not only to the most significant human being in our lives, but to our posterity as we consider how to build and bring a Heritage of love home.

I was not one of those who dated much in school. I was not one of the popular curious who was pulled into early dating and social relationships. Oh, it wasn't because I was abnormal and wasn't noticing and thinking about girls. Life on the farm, in a largely single-parent home, with chores, close sibling ties, leadership positions in FFA, debate, and other extra-curricular activities kept me too busy to pursue a female fancy. I was much more serious, and to some extent, more studious than most of my peers and found the values and activities of the "popular set" a bit out of sync with my values and priorities.

Yet, from my earliest remembrance, I always called upon God in daily prayers for the girl I would marry and for her family and parents to raise her to be ready for us to meet and know each other. I know, this sounds a bit preposterous for a young person, particularly since it did begin when most of my friends were still seeing girls as yucky and only good for teasing. How this interest and pattern of praying for the person I would marry developed I am not sure. Whether my mother instilled something into my early prayers, or some other event or training implanted that priority, I really don't remember. But I remember the prayers and the feeling that it was important, and that I should continue to put that petition before the Lord. And I did.

There were a few (very few) girls I dated before serving an LDS mission for two years in South Texas at age nineteen. Oh, I always had "girl friends," that is, who I thought were cute and had some interest in their attention. In Kindergarten it was a dark-headed, sleepy-eyed cutie named Christy. I always picked her to help hand out the milk and crackers when it was my turn for that exalted privilege. The other boys picked their buddies. In First Grade it was a cherry-farmer's daughter named Diane who caught my eye. My interests were limited to speaking to her on the playground occasionally, but she was the one in that class that caught my eye and at least a corner of my heart. Then in Second Grade, the apple of my eye must have been a bit green because I don't remember the name, just that she was a third grader and liked playing on the tricky bars. Fourth Grade was the beginning of competition for my mental attractions and that year, a cute little blondie, Judy (a shadow of things and a name to come), caught my attention. Then there was Kristine, Jane and Utahana. These same young ladies rotated in priority of interest through Fifth Grade as well. When two of them asked me if I would dance with them and some of the other girls who wanted to learn to dance at recess, it was more than my young male ego and shyness could handle -- I refused. One of the great mistakes of my Fifth Grade year, I am sure. Sixth Grade did not add new female faces to the class and so the cohort or admirees continued, although I think I began to see differentiating character traits emerge as they became more involved in the "popular" contest and looks.

Then came the giant step to Jr. High School and one day a new move in from California sat next to me in Mr. Orton's Typing class. She was gorgeous, smart and experienced in city and social life. And she was absolutely out of my league! Oh, she was nice, but it took only a few weeks to discover that her standards were as foreign to me and my ideals as were her California beach parties and no-parents-home bashes with the very element of the school whom represented most of what I believed was wrong. Oh, shattered image! (No wonder I cannot now remember her name.) But, there were some real cuties that caught my interest and fancy, even if the possible relationships were daydreams and not evening dates. I have watched some of these young ladies from the distance now and see that some were indeed headed in the right direction.

High School was so busy and full with the adventures and challenges of striving for straight A report cards, competing in extra-curricular events, (although athletics had never been important to my dad, so it was not to me) and I found more than enough challenge and ego satisfaction in more mental self-development options. Interesting. Now I find in my own children that they too did not find the interest or allure in athletic prowess or events. There is a heritage message there for another time...

I dated a few girls in high school and found interest in a few close friends, a couple of whom had more interest in me that I in them. There were really no romantic stories or encounters during my high school years. I was focused on a life-long goal of missionary service and it preempted and trumped any pursuit that might have led to a serious relationship.

After High School, I worked the summer on a road construction labor crew on the Idaho border to earn money for my mission and school. The job location was a desolate little place smaller than my very small home town of Mapleton, Utah. We were up at 5 AM and back at 6 PM. I had little time or interest in anything other than a short date with my guitar before retiring. On the weekends between the roadwork, I double- and triple-dated occasionally with my brother and best friend, who were much more the Casanovas than I, although they each had settled on a single-focused interest during much of their dating adventures.

Then in the Fall, I accepted a scholarship to college and completed my first semester at Brigham Young University, where among all the ordinary basic courses a new freshman would take, I took a social dance class (probably to rid myself of the regrets of having turned those fifth-grade girls down). And while I did not develop any special interests, I had a great time trying, with difficulty, to get my feet and body (with a very poor sense of rhythm) to learn Latin steps and rhythms, swing, waltz and jitterbug. It was fun and I thought how great it would be to find my sleeping beauty and sweep off her feet, if I could just get mine to go the right way! Then came my call to serve a mission in South Texas for two years and I left home and fancies of female companionship and the ballroom, behind.

Now, for those of you who are not familiar with the conditions of an LDS mission, a bit of background will help. It is a period of two years of dedicated service. It is self- or family-financed, no choice of location to serve, service is with another 19- to 22-year-old (same gender) from somewhere else in the world. Often, (though not in my case) there is a new language, culture and life to learn. You are with your companion 24-hrs-a-day, seven-days-a-week. You wore a suit every day, live in a small apartment, do your own cleaning, cooking and washing. Your name is Elder Cloward, or Elder Jones or "Elder" so and so. First names are lost in your name tag and the title of your calling as a missionary.

There is no TV, radio or other distractive vices. You have two phone calls home each year (Mothers Day and Christmas). You are up at 6 AM, have personal scripture study, companion scripture study, shower, prepare breakfast, clean, review the work plan for the day and head out to serve and return to plan the next day at 10 PM. You do get 1/2 day off for doing your washing and personal preparations (including writing a letter home to family and reports to the mission president). I was grateful that I did not have to split that time with another letter to someone else at home.

The story of the service in those very busy days is the subject of another discussion I would love to have with any interested person, but is not necessary for the discussion of the topic at hand. However, I would point out that the reason for this long explanation of the missionary service is absolutely connected to the subject of learning to love, serve, and live with a spouse.

And of course there are no girls, no dates, no phone calls and no dancing for missionaries. It is a time of complete focus and dedication to the Lord. For those who stay dedicated, the vast majority of the now over 60,000 such souls who are serving, the experience is invaluable in learning the most important lessons of life: faith, commitment, dedication, selflessness, service and love. I have often thought that every church group would do well to provide similar experience for their young men and women,

It was a great time to let girls take a far backseat, but my prayers continued and my specific prayers, that I would know her when I saw her, brought both calm and curiosity for the future.
I knew that the Lord knew the intent of my heart and the honesty of my plea.

After two years I returned and within two weeks was in the middle of the Southern Utah desert with an army blanket, a pocket knife and 400 miles to traverse in a 30-day survival program. I had longed to participate in and to learn limited-resource living skills and to get back to the outdoors I so loved. That too is the subject of another discussion for anyone interested in the prowess of building fires without matches and finding incredible edibles in the desert.

Strange as it may seem, there were several young ladies who joined us for the month of snow storms, heat, solo, forced marches and other challenges that the course required. And even though it was in the middle of the desert, there were no curling irons, showers, nor burgers. I found interest in tough personalities and conversations with these hearty young ladies, though not romantic, they were interesting and engaging in discussions of life significance. You might call it a 30-day group date that ended up with all of us having a great respect and love for the companionship and shared-life experience. This adventure also proved to be a preparatory event that would soon bring me face-to-face with the dating and companion selection process.

Upon my return from the desert, I was immediately the target for "line-ups" (female dates) from every relative and neighbor who had the perfect fit niece, friend or acquaintance for me to take out. And so I cooperated and had enough blind dates to earn a white cane! Some of these re encounters with the female gender were fun and interesting, although, I found most of the girls to be so immature, in terms of conversation, thinking and priorities, that I found it hard to relate. It felt like I had to try to remember what it was like to think like a teenager or play a dating game I had never learned! It rapidly became a waste of time and I lost interest in the learning or playing the game. I did date one of my pre-mission friends who had dated my best friend, who was then on his mission in the Philippines. JoAnn was as close a possibility of a companion as I had ever known. Her values, priorities, and personality were, if anything, above my own. She was a wonderful friend and over the course of a number of dates, taught me much about relationships, girls, feelings, trust and priorities. While the relationship did not continue, the friendship did even after we were both married. She was an important link in my education and understanding of the dating process.

Then came that day, when on my knees, I took my situation to the Lord and laid it before Him. No angels, words, nor other profound event occurred other than I was absolutely clear that He had heard me and understood my situation and resolve. That resolve was that I would move on with my work and education and simply leave the dating scene behind until He brought it into priority for me. I went to bed that night with assurance that my burden was now on the Lord's mind and shoulders. I had long since come to know that rest and peace in other areas of my life challenges.

However, that was two weeks prior to a commitment I had made with a friend who had served with me in Texas who had just returned home and wanted to double-date with me and a young lady he had met (and whom I had come to know). He called a few days later to arrange to come and stay with me for that weekend. My response went something like this -- "Oh, Vaughn, you come down, but I have given up on the dating scene, so you stay with us and go out with Arlene, but I won't be going out with you." His response was "Hey, you can't do that! I 'll get back with you." Well, getting back with me was a call very late that night form Arlene. As I wiped the sleep from my eyes, I heard her say something like -- "Listen, I have been thinking and praying about the girls I know who I think you would like and I have two who I think are good fits. I have already asked one and she is not available for Saturday, but the other one is." I don't even think she told me the name.

Well, I had not perused the date and although it seemed a little odd that I had just told the Lord I was out of the market, I felt like maybe he had put me back in, at least to keep this commitment to Vaughn. So, I agreed and finished the work week wondering what Saturday would bring.

What it brought was a delightful meeting and interaction with a young lady from Akron, Ohio who was perhaps the first encounter with someone who was indeed a possibility for a serious interest. I had a great time. I leaned over to Arlene and thanked her for the introduction and then asked, "Wow, if this was choice Number Two, what is Number One like?" She informed me that Number One was fantastic and that she was available for the next Saturday and so were she and Vaughn. Actually, they were getting quite serious and another double-date would be just what the doctor ordered, for both of us.

This time Arlene gave me the name and I was to call to set up the date. She and Vaughn would pick her up on Saturday morning and meet me at home. I remembered her name was Judy and she was from Arlington, Virginia. I called her apartment at the university and the noise of the other girls made it difficult for her to hear, but she accepted the date. She later recounted that it was the last Saturday she was in town, the semester had ended, and she was headed back to Virginia for the summer. Nothing could come of it and it was a free meal. She liked and trusted Arlene and my deep voice was intriguing. I will not try to describe further her pre- meeting thoughts or experience. She may choose to share that adventure on her own.

The next several days I found myself with a new and exciting sense of anticipation for this adventure of meeting someone who had been the subject of thought and prayer and whose first set-up had been so good. I felt excited and a bit nervous for Saturday's encounter.

I got started with the chores late that morning and upon returning from the milk barn with a bucket of milk in both hands as I stepped past the front room window, I saw Vaughn's green Volkswagen pull into the driveway. I paused and watched as he helped Arlene out and then helped my last blind date from the back seat. That moment something moved inside of me -- a feeling, a familiarity, something, and I knew that this would be no ordinary date. I went to the kitchen and put the milk in the strainer. Mom, offered to finish up for me and I went out to meet them.

Our date was a hike and picnic in the canyon above my home. It was a beautiful Spring day and after exploring the area, hiking up the trails and jumping back and forth across the cement ditch that diverted some of the canyon stream into the communities irrigation system (and which was just wide enough to need to hold hands to insure a safe crossing), we settled into fixing lunch. It was the first time Judy had ever had a outdoor barbecued steak. In fact, it was the first time she had ever eaten a steak in her life! That seemingly odd fact was a shadow of how she had been raised and a most significant insight into the background and upbringing of this girl whom I seemed to know so well from the moment I met her. Indeed, her life story to that point will be fascinating, almost unbelievable to those who know the facts. Judy had had a pristine upbringing that had afforded her an abiding testimony of Christ, a profound faith, a gentle and guileless kindness, a selfless priority and an innocence that was unscathed. She was a child of truth and goodness like no other person I had ever met.

Upon my return from the picnic and our hurry to get to the movie and the rest of the day-long date, I passed my mother in on the stairs as I put away some of the picnic supplies. She had seen my unusual interest and excitement in the kitchen earlier and said "So?" My response was, "I think she is the one," although in my heart I was saying 'that is the girl I will marry.' She said, "You think so, huh?" Like any mom whose son said "she is the one" after the first date (actually, the first few hours), she may have been skeptical, but she knew I was not.

We moved on to the movie, Treasure Island. The movie was less than we had hoped, which was a good thing, because I couldn't have focused on the movie anyway. My heart and mind were racing, supercharged, energized like I had never experienced before. It was like living a dream, the date I had always dreamed, and prayed about. It had been as I prayed -- I knew her!

After the movie, we drove around the Provo Temple and cued by Vaughn and Arlene's obvious interest in some serious talk, Judy and I left the car and walked around the temple block several times. We learned more about each other in that hour of conversation and questions about life, priorities and family than most couples learn through a lifetime. There is little that I have learned about Judy that I did not come to know or sense that night.

When we got the girls back to their apartments, Vaughn walked Arlene to hers and I walked Judy to hers. I asked if I could pick her up after her church meetings to take her to a favorite spot called Cascade Springs. She agreed and then I asked her if I could give her a kiss. This was totally out of character for me, yet it was totally the right thing -- natural and good. Although the kiss was so inexperienced that it took a few more to get the "good night" said right, it was the end of a perfect day and the beginning of a more perfect life.

Judy can tell her own story of that night and the prayer, and voices that woke her and were in her mind until I knocked at the door and took her hand. It was like being back together having always been together and the ride up Provo Canyon was magic. I will never forget the moment I turned and looked in her eyes and asked with absolute seriousness, "What would you say if I asked you to marry me?" Ya, right, it had been less than 24 hours since we had met, or re-met as we have come to know. "We'll I know I am supposed to marry you," was the reply.

That day, that date and the ensuing date on Tuesday, the last day before she returned to Arlington and I stayed to work the summer was a whirlwind of feelings, realizations and wonders. Too much to share in this, already long lead up to what I want to share. Perhaps Judy will finish that story of how we discussed our children's names that second date, under separate cover. Needless to say, that summer apart was an incredible continuation of developing the relationship and planning our life together.

I had taken a job back with the road construction company for that summer before I returned to school and my schedule was very full. Up at 4 AM, milk the cow, take care of farm chores and take the two-hour drive with my dad to the job site in the mountains. Then 7:30 Am to 5 PM I danced with a shovel, Whacker compactor, laid and covered culvert pipe, flagged traffic and greased the pug mill and occasionally ran the roller on the new pavement. Then, back down the mountain to the mailbox where it was not unusual to have multiple letters and cards from my absentee fiance. After my evening chores and a quick bite of dinner, I spent long hours writing back to Judy. Long distance phone calls were very expensive in those days. Then to bed by 10 PM to sweet dreams and visions of this girl who was the answer, completion and purpose for the rest of my life.

That was now thirty-six years ago. The course of our life together has had many twists and turns that have all seemed to weave together in purpose and plan to where we are today. Now we are on the cusp of new challenges and opportunities to focus our lives, service, family and priorities into completing the adventurous life we have shared.

Those who know us know that Judy and I have a singleness of purpose and service. She has been a veritable definition of a "help mete for man." Her undaunting commitment to me and my work, our family, faith and marriage has never wavered. She has been, is, and continues to be, my everything. She has crafted a family of honest, faithful children who share our life view, purpose and priorities.

While I was gone so much in travel and business, she was always there doing what great mothers do, building the legacy of our family story. She has told the stories, set the priorities, established the values, wiped the tears, sung the songs, played the games, gone to soccer, school events and tucked the kids into their heritage. Oh, I helped, when I could, when I was around, I taught them to work, and cook and pray, but it has largely Judy who nurtured the day-to-day deposits of heritage in the Cloward home. For that I will be eternally grateful and we will both be eternally blessed.

Perfect parents? Oh my, no -- not by a long shot! Ask any of the kids and you will find a litiney of mistakes and dropped balls in our parenting. They will tell you that they taught us how to be parents and that sometimes we failed the tests. But they will each tell you they knew that we loved them, maybe most of all, when we did mess up. We are the parents of an eternally-focused and committed family with a heritage that is clear, values that are lived and traditions that continue to enrich our lives and those who share them with us. Are we done? Not by a long shot. There is still so much more heritage to create, to transfer and to celebrate. The legacy is a work in progress. We continue to build it together. And they continue to customize and fine-tune that legacy into a heritage of their own, as they define their own family stories and build on the foundations of grandparents, parents, and our shared eternal priorities.

So, what is all of this long lead up to you, my friends and associates, readers and colleagues? It is this: The first and most important continuing priority for building a lasting legacy of family heritage that will give you the greatest happiness and joy in this life, and I believe in the life to come, is for each of us to remember that our love and respect, partnership and commitment to each other - sweethearts, companions, mothers and fathers, parents, children, is the foundation for our heritage. We must not let our foundations weaken, crumble or go out of repair and priority.

Remember. Remember your own love story and continue to live and write it into your own and and the hearts of your children. The greatest gift you can give them is indeed, a pure and undefiled love of each other. Your love story past, present and future is the framework for their security and their happiness. Build a Heritage and a Legacy of Love of each other and write your story - for them.


Now, I must tell you that my blogs will be a bit periodic with changes or needs to update you on the health and happenings of the journey. I must now turn my priority to writing a book that I am compelled to complete. The book - "Bringing Heritage Home" is waiting to be written and shared. I trust that it is a worthy project and will be a good read. But then, you can be the judge of that.

Onward and Upward!

Love,
Doug