Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts

9.11.2011

AT GROUND ZERO



This sculpture sat just outside the World Trade Center before the attacks. What was salvaged was put on display here in Battery Park. It was sobering to see the painfully obvious damage inflicted to metal. Gashes, dents, and gaping holes covered the whole thing.
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The afternoon lighting makes it difficult to see, but just in front of Andrew,  an eternal flame burns from the cement circle in the ground.



Later that afternoon, we arrived at Ground Zero. This is the fire station literally across the street.  



I'm bummed this picture is blurry, but here we are at a memorial stretching along one side of the building. 

I can't even describe my feelings upon seeing the actual spot this occurred. It made it too easy to visualize the devastation an attack like this would have on the surrounding city blocks and the hundreds and hundreds of people on the streets, in the subway, and in the buildings. It must have been truly horrifying...as we know it was. 

Standing there, the reality of it hit me like never before, and I was reliving newsflashes of hordes of people running for their lives through the streets of Manhattan. I spent the next hour with a lump in my throat.  



It was here, that we met this gentleman. Yes, he may have been a little eccentric, but I was very grateful we did. 




After learning these tourists were from Europe, he proceeded to pull out a tattered binder full of pictures that he used as visuals to eloquently and movingly recount the entire story of the attack...all from the perspective of a New Yorker. 
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He directed his speech at the young boy in the blue hat there, because he especially wanted him to understand the significance of what had happened that day. 



After describing in great detail, the New Yorkers' reactions to the initial plane, how the falling towers destroyed surrounding skyscrapers, and the chaos that ensued as the people tried to escape, I started thinking that this was powerful stuff and I should be recording it! 
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Sadly, this is the tiny bit that I was able to capture near the end. He went on to describe the future of Ground Zero after I stopped recording.



That skyscraper in the middle will be known as One World Trade Center. I believe it is only a little over half-way built up at this point. It is going to be HUGE. 



To be finished in 2015, it will be tagged as the tallest building in America at 1,776 feet.



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As for the actual two sites of the towers, memorials were unveiled today that sit within the footprints left behind by the buildings. We were sad to have missed it by only a month. When we were there in August, it was all surrounded by fencing. 

The twin reflecting pools are about an acre big with the largest man made falls in the country (30ft) cascading down their perimeters.  Names of all those who lost their lives that day are inscribed along the edges.   



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This picture lets you see both pools from above and the crowds gathered for the ceremony today. 

Each year, I teach my class a little bit about what happened that day. Of course, I don't want to traumatize the kiddos, but I think they need to understand the basics and what an impact it had on our country. I'm surprised each time, how little they actually know. 

It's hard to believe my third graders weren't even alive when September 11th happened! Crazy. And it was one of the most memorable days of my entire life...






3.07.2011

MEMORY MONDAY--honeymooners

{*post edit}

This may be the only picture I have of our honeymoon: just the two of us...officially married...riding off into the sunset...living the adult-life alone! I love that it perfectly captures the golden, happy mood of the whole trip.
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{And if I remember right, this picture was actually taken by a polygamist family who happened to be on the bridge at teh same time.}

Being married to Andrew really is the best.



But after my dad saw this picture, he e-mailed me a picture of his own:

He and my step-mom...on their honeymoon...on the same bridge...at the same time of day...in the same pose.

*awkward silence*




I know, right?
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The myriad of complicated emotions that surfaced for me then, all seemed to be synonymous with the word: uncomfortable at varying degrees.

Don't get me wrong. I like these guys...but...weird. Do I really need to explain myself any further here?


I'm doing my best not to let it taint our own golden glow.
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1.31.2011

MEMORY MONDAY--wide open spaces

Lake Powell near Glen Canyon Dam. That's my 7th grade band shirt, so I'm guessing this is Junior High-ish era.

Isn't that incredible scenery? My family made this trip between Arizona and Utah probably a hundred times. Idaho has a beauty all of its own that is just as stunning in its own way. But sometimes I forget how much I miss the desert. No matter how long I've been away, this landscape still feels apart of my soul. Just stick some Saguaro cacti in there to make it complete.


What is it that would make me long for the desert now? Could it be the three feet of snow out my living room window? Hmm. 





1.25.2011

GRAMPS


{I did NOT take this picture. It was taken by the fabulous FIFE PHOTOGRAPHY. I borrowed it from my cousin's wedding album HERE.}
Grandpa Brown turned 80 this week. As a surprise, it was arranged for him to sing with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. How cool is that?

The next night, was a hopping shindig with cake. And cookies. And like, six hundred cousins.

Okay, I exaggerate. Not quite that many.

But there were tributes rendered, poetry read, memories shared, and tears shed. And then we all laughed and talked the night away.




Gramps has had a darn, interesting life. He took Grandma Jennie, my mom, and her five brothers on quite the lifelong adventure. He worked for American embassies around the world, pioneering the LDS church in remote areas as he went.
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As a result, my mom's growing up years were spent in places like:
  • Baghdad, Iraq
  • Tehran, Iran
  • Bogotá, Columbia
  • Jakarta, Indonesia
  • Brasilia, Brazil
I think that's cool.



We lived with him after Grandma died, from the time I was 12 until I was 16 (...my snottiest of years, now that I think about it...it's a wonder he still likes me) Here are a few things I remember from that time:

*Grandpa hates cats. Once, when a stray kept hanging around, he grabbed it by the scruff of the neck, tossed it in the trunk, and released it in the middle of the Mexican desert. No joke.


*We had all just moved into a new house. Around the dinner table, Grandpa told us about his first experience with his new shower. Not realizing there was a step down, he stumbled in and landed on the tile floor. After getting back on his feet, he went to turn the water on only to have the unexpected power of the water pressure send him right back down to the bottom.
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I probably shouldn't laugh so hard at this memory. But I do.


*Grandpa is staunchly against wasted food. So, most days, I came home from school to a pot on the stove of what we eventually dubbed: "goulash". It was a mixture of all the leftovers he could find in the kitchen, heated together, with raisins and salsa thrown in for good measure.


I love that guy.





12.29.2010

FOUR YEARS

I have such a good man. Our wedding anniversary makes me think back to that crazy courtship of ours, and what a miracle it was that we ended up together. (I'm not going to go over our story now, but you can read it HERE.) It was absolutely meant to be.

This song makes me think of that time. Everything was so full of unknowns and uncertainties, but two things helped me through it:


1.) I had distinctly felt that marrying him was what the Lord wanted. I was assured that Andrew was a good person, and God's word was good enough for me.

2.) My family supported me in the decision. I can only imagine the fears going through my mother's mind upon learning I was to marry a man neither of us had known more than a few weeks. But she stuck true to her promise: After expressing her concerns once, she went forward with 100% support and trust. There wasn't even a hint of dissatisfaction coming from her during that whirlwind engagement.


But I'm sure it also helped that Andrew's good heart became increasingly evident the longer we knew him. We all fell in love with him fast, because he is good. And I feel blessed to have had the Lord be out matchmaker. God knew what He was doing.


And doesn't Carrie Underwood sing this song so beautifully? Listen to those high notes!
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12.21.2010

Memory Monday--Christmas past

December 1997. Seventh Grade. Gilbert, Arizona.

What happy times. My biggest problem of the day was the angst of Junior high life. A Josh something-or-other had had just "broken up with me." Ha!

I wish I had been able to look past this tragedy long enough to realize how happy life really was. I love the pure joy on little Becca's face. =)





12.06.2010

MEMORY MONDAY--our funny

July 1997? Camping in Arizona.

That's me in the trunk and Becca in the backseat. We thought we were so funny. 
(Get it?)
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11.29.2010

MEMORY MONDAY--Fluffy


Fourteen years old. Gilbert Jr. High.
Mr. Granio's 8th grade earth science class.

"Grah-knee-O," he demonstrated the first day of class, pointing to his own knee at the appropriate syllable.

He was AWESOME. And totally weird. But that is probably what made him so cool in the first place. Let me share what I remember about Mr. Granio.


1.) He was great at multi-tasking. He could give lectures about tectonic plates while shooting at flies with rubber bands (the classroom door faced a horse field). I've never seen a happier man than the day he shot and killed one flying midair.


2.) When he thought something was funny, it wasn't a knee slapper...it was an ELBOW slapper. He'd laugh hysterically while slapping his elbow. Like I said. Weird.


3.) Mr. Granio reminded me a Fred Flinstone. Without the orange dress.


4.) One day, Mr. Granio excitedly told the class that his wife was having a baby girl. We got on the subject of names, and he got frustrated, as he described the difficulties of agreeing on a name. Apparently his wife just wouldn't cooperate. When we asked what he wanted to name her, he replied dramatically, with outstretched arms, his attentive students in suspense:

"...Beached...Whale..."

he said, staring theatrically at an unknown distant vision.


5.) We were never allowed to say we got a HAIR cut. He said this didn't make sense. Why would we go to a hair salon and pay to have ONE hair trimmed? No...we got a HAIRS cut.


6.) Mr. Granio had a pet rock. He named it Fluffy, kept it in a cage, and had students regularly change its food and water. He would even remove it from the cage, put it in a hamster ball, and let it get some "exercise." The strangest part was the fact that the ball would actually rove all through the room as if a real animal was running its little heart out.


7.) And he taught us a bunch of stuff about rocks...and space...and volcanoes. That was cool too.


It's amazing what an impact a teacher can have.




11.08.2010

MEMORY MONDAY--Desert Storm


Fifteen years old. Gilbert, Arizona. Monsoon season. 

This picture perfectly portrays the joy felt by Arizonians when water falls from the sky. It's like Christmas, rain is such a rare occurrence. 


Storms always roll into the valley in the same way: 
White, fluffy clouds build up on the horizon throughout the entire HOT, sunny day. Then, sometime after 5pm, a vast wall of desert dust a mile high, picked up by sudden winds, rip at palm trees and hinders sight on the freeway stacks. Next, dark clouds rumble closely behind, accompanied by a lightning display like none other. And finally, it rains. And it pours. And all the neighborhood kids run out into the street to dance, sing, and frolic barefoot on the steaming blacktop. 



*sigh* Happy memories. I miss monsoons.





11.05.2010

FOCAL POINT FRIDAY--much needed break


Hello, again! How happy I am it's Friday!
Here are this week's focal points:
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WORST
We had a field trip today. I hate field trips' stinkin' guts. They are never as fun for the teacher as they are for the kids, and I am TIRED.




BEST
We're going to a concert tonight!
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I have been listening to Collin Raye's songs since elementary school. I have many memories of sitting in the back seat of our old, air condition-less car, on a blazing Arizona freeway, singing my heart out to these on the radio.
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Here are a few I am hoping to hear tonight (that you'll probably recognize):
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One Boy, One Girl--Listen/Watch HERE
Little Rock--Listen/Watch HERE
I Think About You--Listen/Watch HERE
That's My Story--Listen/Watch HERE
Love, Me--Listen/Watch HERE
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And My All-Time Favorite:
{Listen for the violins in the bridge. Such a happy sound!}




10.18.2010

MEMORY MONDAY--Wanna Kiss?



Eighteen years old. St. George, Utah. First date of my college career.


The guy was a preemie leaving on his mission in a couple weeks. Apparently, he was DESPERATE for a kiss before he left.


I spent the evening frantically dodging his attempts to put his arm around me, hold my hand, or...worse. It was a first date, I wasn't an experienced dater, and he was a bit too eager.


I thought the last straw was when he drove us up to the local make-out spot. I may have been new in town, but I knew exactly where we were. I sat scrunched up against my car door observing his awkward attempts at "moving closer" until I finally informed him it was time to take me home.


I had a headache, you see. That's believable, right?


But then, on the front steps, after my quick, obligatory hug and a lunge to open the door, he asked:
"Do you wanna kiss?"
I stopped and stared at him in shock for half a second before responding with thinly veiled annoyance, "No."


What happened next will forever blow my mind. It was so sad. So pathetic. Piteous, even.


He reached into his pocket and pulled out a zip-lock baggy. Holding it up for me to see, I caught sight of foil wrapped Hershey's kisses in the yellow glow of the porch light.


I wish I could have seen my expression at that moment. It must have been something between a frozen forced smile and pure disgust. "He...he...he...that was...clever," I faltered as I accepted his offering of a chocolate kiss.


But after such a desperate display, I didn't feel bad for not inviting him in, as his hopeful face peered in at my roommate sitting on the couch. I didn't care as I said goodnight, closing the door an inch from his nose. And I didn't even feel bad as my shocked roommate mildly censured me for my rudeness.


It wasn't until after I got over my nausea that I was able to recognize the bright side to the situation: It makes for a funny memory, right?





10.09.2010

SNAPSHOT SATURDAY- Hula


My cousin Aimee, recently e-mailed me a scanned image of our Grandma Jennie. My mom's mom. Look at the placement of that arm! So graceful...so perfect. She was a beautiful dancer, who taught the art to her children.

My mom is also a beautiful dancer. It's been years since I've seen her do it, but I've never since found a hula dancer whose movements were as refined and balletic in my eyes.

Mom tried to teach me from a young age as well. But I never could get the hang of the hip thing...




Thank you. This has been the first in a weekly installment of...

10.04.2010

Some old pictures brought me back to some good times with an old friend.

Has it ever been obvious that you were supposed to have known someone? Jess and I were thrown together so much when I moved to Rexburg that it was obviously so: same ward, FHE sisters, serving in the same Relief Society Presidency, same early morning janitorial job, and eventually roommates for a year.
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She had a huge impact on my single college years. HUGE. But this may have something to do with the type of person she is, because I suspect she has had a huge impact on A LOT of people.




That's Jessica among some of my other good-hearted roommates.




Mostly, I was remembering the spring break that Jessica took pity on my lack of plans for the week, and invited me to go home with her. Her family opened their arms to their daughter's shy, awkward roommate.

It felt like treading on sacred ground to be welcomed into the life Jess was so passionate about: meeting her parents and siblings, exploring her beloved home nestled in the rocky hills of Wyoming, walking through the family business and sensing the saturation of hard work, sacrifice, and pride attached to it, and watching her lovingly play the grand piano in the living room. Especially when witnessing especially personal events, like visiting the grave sites of her two little brothers, witnessing the desperate love her father has for his family, and visiting with a beloved grandmother literally on her deathbed.

What a trip it was! All the love, laughter, and tears made a significant impression on me.




At one point in the visit, her little brother wanted to embark on a hike near their home. I will never until my dieing day forget that hike.



I had been on hikes with Jessica before. Hikes that included some form of hyperventilation.
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I'm the take-my-time-and-admire-every-rock-view-and-creature-along-the-way type of gal. She is more of the I-will-CONQUER-this-mountain-immediately-or-die-trying! kinda gal.


I reckon that describes Jessica's take on life in a nuthsell.
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But a hike with her little brother? It wouldn't be so bad, right?

*snort*

Jess proceeded to conquer the landscape in earnest, as I expected. But the little guy who was supposed to keep me company during his sister's endeavor, conquered the terrain with a furor unmatched even by Jessica. And then there was the dog. The dog who did not stop RUNNING the entire trek.

The comical image our line made as we marched across those hills is all that kept me going 'til the end: Galloping dog, followed by rugged, energetic boy, followed by fiercely determined young woman, followed by panting, desperately-trying-to-appear zealous roommate.

Otherwise, I may not have made it. But I did. And we were able to return to Rexburg as friends. =)



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{Jess and Amy J--honorary roommate extraordinaire--whose guts I love}

Back in our little brick house in small-town Idaho, Jess eventually found her George...er John...and moved ironically, to my home ward in Gilbert, Arizona. At about the same time, I found my George...er...Andrew...and moved back up to Rexburg. But despite our moving on, this friend has permanently changed me for the better.
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So anyway, I was just rememberin'...

Jess and her crazy, mature, playful, grown-up, alarmingly intense, youthful, focused, story-tellin', sincere, sweetheart of a self.

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9.26.2010

OUR CARS



I seem to remember mentioning that we name our cars. My family has since I was little, and I suspect others do the same. Here is a family photo album of the cars that have come and gone in my life.


My first car was an old 2-door Toyota Tercel. She was good to me. She was loyal, hard working, and all mine. She was my baby. I can't count the number of times I had to encourage her up a steep hill with cries of, "C'mon, Baby! You can do it, girl!" She and I went on many drives together, when I needed to escape...working that stick shift like a race car driver. I loved her like an old friend.


Sadly, this is the only picture I have of the ol' girl...which is really only a picture of me...six years ago...looking very orange.


Despite her old age, Baby let me put an insane amount of miles on her until one day, she just kind of melted from the inside out. I had to actually pay someone to take her and give her a proper burial.




Within a month, I met Andrew. He was working full-time, and living the high single life. As such, he could afford his brand-new Dodge Ram. Her name was Roxy.

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Roxy holds a special place in my heart, because she took us on our first date, was around for the long good night kisses of engaged life, traveled with us on our honeymoon, and to our new home in Rexburg. However, Roxy was too expensive for newly-wed college students to keep long-term. And we needed two vehicles.




So we traded with Andrew's sister for a more affordable Toyota Camry, and then bought a beater Dodge Dakota pick-up for Andrew. The Dakota was quickly dubbed: Dusty. It just seem to fit. The Camry, luxurious beyond anything I had ever driven, was named after what she appeared to be in my eyes: Porsche. Power windows and a working air conditioner?? I had never owned such a vehicle in my life!




About a year later, again seeking smaller payments, we traded Porsche in and got a Dodge Status. She has been my mode of transportation for a couple of years now, and we are getting along swimmingly. But I still haven't gotten over the power windows and air conditioning bit. It still blows my mind. I call this one Lexus.
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What if I actually end up with a real Lexus one day, you ask? I don't know, I'd probably name her Bessie or something. Or Butch.




But speaking of Lexus, I got in the car this week after work, and happened to notice that she was at exactly 50,000 miles. I thought it was worth documenting...even if only with my cell phone camera.




About the same time that we got Lexus, Andrew traded Dusty in for a more reliable, and actually, a more affordable truck. Andrew picked the name: Candy. I realize that this isn't the toughest of names for a big, manly truck, but Andrew is very adamant on the fact that all vehicles are female. So "Candy," she is.
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On a side note, we will own Candy free and clear after one more payment. What a beautiful feeling...




This accomplishment was made possible in part, by the sale of Mia the Miata! (Click HERE for more of her story.)


Anyway. What is your car's name and personality?




7.22.2010

GREETING CARDS

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I have saved shoe boxes full of greeting cards. I've received some fun ones over the years, and it seems a shame to keep them hidden away where they will never be seen again. I scanned a couple of favorites to share with the world...before they get shoved onto the top shelf of the closet again.
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A card we received at our wedding that I thought was cute.
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FRONT
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My mother has a part-time job at Hallmark. As a result, I receive many, many cards in the mail. Not that I'm complaining. Who doesn't like Hallmark cards?
FRONT
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Andrew's Easter card our first year of marriage
FRONT
INSIDE

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An anniversary card from Dad. The eyes are the googly kind. Is it weird to say that this card totally remind me of Andrew and me?
FRONT
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I loved the colors and and mood of this one.
FRONT
INSIDE
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Dad sends a Christmas card out every year that he made. He drew this old Christmas village using pen and ink.
FRONT The front of the card is too long to fit into our scanner. So, here's the other half.
INSIDE
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Christmas card I just thought was cute.
FRONT
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A card from Andrew that just describes him so well. ( The funny part...not the druggie part)
FRONT INSIDE
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A bee...wearing that birthday hat...singing that tune...Why is it so adorable to me?
FRONT INSIDE

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And the most unique card award goes to this one:
What it looks like straight out of the envelope...

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What it looks like after it pops up...

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The actual card part is the candles that you pull out of the top of the "cake"...
FRONT

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