Acceptance- Learning to Love Others inspite or Maybe Even Because of Flaws

Sometimes letting go doesn't mean letting someone go. Sometimes it may mean letting go of your own expectations, and your own frustrations. Because the sad reality is we all have weaknesses and flaws. And yes, it would be great if our beloved didn't do x, y, or z, but that really isn't our choice. The only choice we have is whether or not to love them. To walk away or stay.

It's simple, really, but we complicate things with emotions. Sometimes we've invested so much time and energy into a relationship we think if we only work a little harder, be a little smarter, or talk a little louder they'll be able to see what you see--they person they could be if only they'd give up the x, y, or z, or embrace the a, b, or c. 

But their choices are never our choices. We have to love each other and the letters we each carry in our pockets. We're all messy packages, products of our beliefs, our environments, and our training.

Walking away from a relationship is an option. But usually the best choice is to walk away from our own false expectations and allow our loved ones to realize their own visions of who they want to be.

And hope they give us the space to do the same.

But, of course, sometimes the only choice is to walk away, knowing that if we do we'll have much more space than we ever wanted.

Grandma's Funeral

My mother-in-law died last week. We went to her funeral on Saturday. Here's a copy of her life sketch. She wrote it herself and asked for it to be read. (See below) She also planned the program. It went something like this.

Life sketch

Musical number I'm Trying to be Like Jesus and I Feel My Savior's Love, preformed by grandchildren and great-grandchildren. 

Remembrances by her seven children

Musical number, In My Father's House are Many Mansions

A short talk on the Plan of Salvation (don't know what that is? You can read about it here.)

After the funeral service, we drove to the top of the Salt Lake City Cemetery where we placed flowers on Grandma's casket, and Steven offered a prayer to dedicate the grave. We drove away, leaving that chapter of our lives.

And it was all lovely.

But the thought of my niece's cancer haunted me. Grandma had a long and wonderful life. But that's not a guaranteed blessing for all of us. My niece Kira has stage four cancer. You can donate to her here. Or buy a t-shirt--all proceeds will go directly to Kira. The dog on the shirt is a picture of Kira's pug.

Nadine's Life Sketch

Nadine (Call) Tate 89 years, graduated from this life on Monday, July 18, 2016 at Lakeview Hospital following a stroke, a massive brain hemorrhage. She had family at her side at her passing. She is survived by 7 children and spouses, 40 grandchildren and 83 great grandchildren. She was preceded in death by her husband, parents, 2 sisters and 2 brothers, a daughter-in-law, and 2 great-grandchildren.

Nadine Call was born of goodly parents, Horace Arthur and Leona May (Papworth) Call on February 10, 1927, in a small white house in Tucson, Arizona. The doctor proclaimed that she was premature, weighing in around 8 pounds because her eyebrows and finger nails weren’t yet developed. I remember her telling me that they thought she was Native American because she had pitch black hair and very olive skin, however there is not genealogical connection to that claim. She was the youngest of 5 children.

Nadine was born with a testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and never ever questioned it. In Arizona water was precious and so there had to be enough individuals getting baptized to warrant filling up the small font. Her dad was the Superintendent of the Sunday School so she often accompanied him early on Sunday mornings to the church. In June following her 8^th birthday when her father was checking the church building he noticed that the missionaries had filled the font for a convert baptism. He asked Nadine if she had been baptized yet? “No”. He asked her, do you have white underwear and slip on, “Yes”. He told her to take everything else off. He went up got the two missionaries for witnesses and her dad baptized her. Then he called her mama to bring some dry under things, telling her he had just baptized, Nadine.

 Nadine dad’s brother married her mother’s sister. She loved it when they would come down from Afton, Wyoming. She said the Call family really didn’t know how to just laugh and have fun but the Papworths (her mama’s family) did.. She said she would quietly sit under the piano and listen to her mother and aunt talk and laugh. They would laugh until tears rolled down their cheeks. None of the kids knew how to laugh out loud. Nadine knew how to project her voice because of singing so she developed a “cackle”. She said her brother Vaughn, would open up his mouth but nothing would come out and his nose would quiver. Nadine preferred her “cackle”.  

 Nadine was very intelligent, with an IQ of 140 and attended the University of Utah when she was 15 years old. Despite her intelligence she was a slow reader and later the cause was identified as dyslexia. Math was her best subject. It was while attending the U of U she met Willard Richards Tate.  While registering for school at the “U”, Nadine ran into her boyfriend and his response was, what are you doing here? He was upset that she would only be 1 quarter behind him as a Freshman. While they were arguing on the front steps of Kingsbury Hall, along came his close buddy, Willard, who sided with Nadine and said “if she’s smart enough, why not.” Nadine told him, “to mind his own business”.

About two weeks later during lunch she noticed Willard sitting by himself in the cafeteria, and so just like her, always thinking of others, she asked him to join her group so he wouldn’t have to sit alone.

On Nadine 17^th birthday Willard gave her his Lambda Delta Sigma Fraternity pin. Two months later his entire U of U Engineering class enlisted in the Navy to fight in World War II. Willard gave her a Diamond to “secure her.” On April 19, 1945, she married her sweetheart, Willard Richards Tate, in the Salt Lake City Temple.  They had a lot of adventures traveling all over New England as Willard was sent to one specialized training after another.

While Willard was away, Nadine worked and built up a good nest egg. On one of Willard’s leaves they bought a little white cottage with picket fence, arbor gate and all for $8000. Her dad helped with the down payment.  They never got to live in the house because of the housing shortage, Willard’s brother Ralph and his family of 5 children moved in. They ended up getting a small apartment on 3^rd South by South Temple.

 Shortly after the family moved into our new home on Northgate St. in Culver City, California the Gas man who had hooked up the gas line submitted Nadine (mom/grandma)’s name to the Mrs. America contest which the gas company was sponsoring. Nadine was selected as Mrs. Culver City.

Nadine and Willard loved to tour the United States in their camper as well as traveling all over the world.

She loved the many missionaries they worked with as she and Willard served as the office couple in 6 California missions: San Bernardino (twice), San Francisco, Carlsbad, Long Beach, and Riverside. She wrote “Those years in the mission field were most satisfying. Wonderful people, great working conditions, being needed and appreciated, and most of all working side by side 24/7 with Willard in the Lord’s work. It was a joy one can only experience, words cannot express it adequately.” Whether it is serving missions, serving in our wards, serving our neighbors and most of all our family. That’s what mom taught, and lived, service. 

 Nadine had a strong testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ and was steadfast and firm in keeping all of His commandments, and taught her family well. She said, “I’ve loved the Lord all of my life, I’ve loved Willard, my righteous and brilliant husband with all my heart. We have been blessed with the most wonderful and marvelous, brilliant and righteous children. Then along came the beautiful grandchildren and great grandchildren. Willard used to say it is the only Pyramid plan that really works. The Lord has been so generous with us and our life. I look forward to being with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, His Son and to sing their praises.”

 Her posterity will greatly miss her sense of humor and her love for family.

Memory from her oldest grandchild:

I don't have any specific memories of Grandma, mostly just clips:

* The sound of her laugh

* The way she adored and dotted on Grandpa

* A whole wall in her closet neatly stacked with high heels in every color

* Candy and chocolates in all of their drawers and cupboards

* Her freezer full of dessert and telling us that they always had dessert

* Her telling me that I was most like her

* That Grandma was both smart and beautiful

Tribute from Adam, her grandson

Tribute to Grandma Tate:

"When Grandpa died, I took it pretty hard. I'm sure every grandchild feels a special connection with their grandfathers, but having lived with him for a summer shortly before he passed away, I felt especially close to him.

Accordingly, when I first heard that Grandma's health was rapidly deteriorating, I emotionally prepared myself to go through a similar grieving process.

Perhaps, those feelings of grief are still to come - but they haven't yet. Since learning that Grandma passed away, I've felt nothing but peace and even happiness. There is something beautiful about the thought of Grandma and Grandpa being together once again. Something wonderful about the thought of them reminiscing about their past journeys together and looking forward with excitement towards their future adventures.

I am thankful for my knowledge that thfough Jesus Christ families can be together for forever. And while Mormons are not the only ones with this belief, I am thankful that my Church puts such an emphasis on it. I will miss you Grandma, but I'm sure I'll see you again someday."

Adam Tate (grandson)

 Nadine Call Tate’s testimony never waivered and she endured joyfully to the end.  I know she is happily reunited for all eternity to her sweetheart, Willard. For families are what matter most and God designed a plan that we can be together forever.

The Green Cat Incident (or why even moms sometimes need to be sent into time-out)

One boring afternoon, my almost three year old daughter decided to paint our cat green. I admit, I was partly to blame for this disaster. After all, I had left the cat, child and a tube of acrylic paint alone in the same room. Of course a budding artist would squeeze paint all over our cat, Bengal.

The cat did not appreciate her new look, and tried to lick it off. Within moments, Bengal had a green frothy tongue and mouth. I realized that left to herself, she would likely die of poisoning. Even though I wanted to reprimand my daughter, I had no choice but to give the cat a bath. (After I put all paints up and out of reach.)

Bengal enjoyed her bath about as much as I enjoyed giving it to her. And just so you know, it’s really hard to get green acrylic out of cat fur. It took a while.

I could hear my daughter and her baby brother in the other room. I had left Nathan, who was about six months old, strapped in a bouncer. He fussed, but since I knew he was securely caged and that there wasn’t paint in reach, I thought he would be fine.

As I washed the cat, my anger also washed away and my sense of humor returned. The baby even stopped fussing. I bundled up the wet cat in a towel, carried her outside to let her lick away her trauma, and returned to find an entire box of Cheerios dumped all over Nathan.

I really think that if I hadn’t had that moment (I won’t call it peaceful, because I wouldn’t recommend cat bathing to anyone in need of relaxation and reflection) But if I hadn’t had the break from the commotion, I know I would have responded differently, and with a lot more anger.

As it was, I was able to see that my daughter had been only trying to make her brother happy, and more importantly, she had succeeded. Nathan was delighted to be surrounded by Cheerios. The only person unhappy at that moment was me. (Although, we should consider the cat. Bengal was not happy.)

I’m not advocating leaving your children alone so you can do something as calming as bathing your cat, but I do know that sometimes when someone makes you angry, taking a few minutes to regain your sense of humor can really help when you have to clean up the dumped Cheerios.

The Jerks on the Bus. How to Handle Bullies

My son attended our local elementary school. For five happy years he walked down the hill to join his teachers and friends. Because my house backs on to the school, I could watch him at recess on the playground from my upstairs bedroom window. This bliss ended when he started junior high and had to ride the bus.

Turns out, the problem started even before the bus arrived. Because we had so many kids in our area, our one stop filled the bus. Imagine fifty-or-so 12 to 14 year olds gathered at the park every morning while waiting for their ride. Bedlam was guaranteed.

One afternoon on our way to soccer practice, my son told me that some of the older boys were stealing lunch money from the younger kids.

“One kid wouldn’t give them the money,” Adam told me. “So, they held him down, took off his shoe and threw it out the window.”  

My daughter, piped in and said, “Look! There’s a shoe!”

And sure enough, there in the gutter was one shoe.

Because we live in an area of status symbol sneakers, I knew how important and expensive shoes could be. I also knew how humiliating it must have been for this child to have to attend school with only shoe.

I went home and did what I thought any parent would do. I called the school, told them of the situation, expressed my disappointment, outrage, and issued a few threats. The school thanked me and promised changes would be made. Then I called my mom friends who also had children riding the bus.

Did they share my outrage? Yes. Did they congratulate me on calling the school? No. They thought I had made a colossal mistake.

“Are they taking Adam’s money?” one friend asked.

“No, but that shouldn’t matter,” I replied.

“You just made Adam a target,” she replied.

Other mom friends agreed. I had unwittingly set my son up for retaliation.

Now, seriously concerned, I called my mother-in-law. After I explained the situation, she said, “There are jerks on the bus, and there are jerks in life. He has to learn how to deal with the jerks on the bus so he later he can deal with the jerks in the office, in the courtroom, or at the hospital.”

Fortunately, the school heard my complaints and took the situation seriously. For the remainder of the school year, a police officer not only waited at the bus stop, but he also rode the bus to and from school. I don’t think the mini-extortionists ever learned that Adam’s mom was the whistle-blower.

But I did have a conversation with Adam. I told him that if those boys were grown-ups, and if they had been caught, they would go to jail. I explained to him that he went to school not only to learn how to read and write, but also to decide what kind of person he wants to be when he grows up.

The bullies on the bus were learning how to intimidate. Because I knew the neighborhood, I knew those boys weren’t stealing because they needed money. The only kids going hungry were the kids whose lunch money was stolen. The bullies might have even believed they were stealing for the money, but I don’t think they were. I think they intimidated and bullied because it made them feel powerful, meaning that there had to be something or someone in their life that made them feel powerless.

Every day, whether we’re on a bus, in an office, courtroom, hospital or at home, we have the chance to decide what kind of person we want to be—where we find our power and joy. Some people are still, literally and figuratively, throwing other people’s shoes out the window, because, as my mother-in-law once so wisely said, “There are jerks on the bus, and jerks in the world.” And we have to learn how to live with them.

 (This is a picture of me and grown-up Adam. We're still close.)