A Joyful Graduation

Well, it happened.

My oldest child graduated from high school.

I don't think it has hit me because I didn't shed a single tear at the ceremony. A couple of people asked me how I was doing and if I was okay and honestly, I was doing great! I was happy for Josh and all the other kids, many I've known since 3rd grade. It was a cool ceremony - I wasn't even bored at all and usually, there is at least one speaker where I'm thinking, "Did we really need this one?"

I am excited for Josh and his future. I know he's ready to take the next step and move on with his life. And I don't have any regrets from his high school years because we went to everything that we possibly could: basketball games, soccer games, baseball games, drama productions, heck, I even went to his prom with a raging fever this year just so I could see the kids all dressed up (well worth it; I highly recommend it).

Maybe that's why there's been no tears. I know that he lived these past four years as fully as possible, and I was a part of that as fully as possible, and I feel satisfied and content. Like I've eaten a really good meal, just enough, not too much, and every bite was delectable.

I also know that this boy, my boy, will always be a part of my life.

So, no tears, just joy for all he's accomplished and for all his possibilities.

Josh at age 8 and ten years later at (almost) 18.

Payback

Josh graduated from seminary yesterday. It was such a satisfying moment, especially when I thought of all the mornings that he didn't want to go and we insisted that he go and I got tired of making him go. I admit it; there were times when I wanted to just give up the fight and let him have his way. I'm glad I didn't.

One of the speaker's joked with the kids that they were changing titles in the church. Whereas before they had been "young men" and "young women", they were now going to be (cue ominous music) "young single adults." Josh says he's okay with that.

Yesterday in Josh's church class, they asked for a volunteer to be in the hot seat. Josh volunteered. They then proceeded to ask him all kinds of questions about his future plans, like what he was going to do for college and mission and how he was going to live and support himself and a family. Our bishop told me that the leaders all expected Josh to flounder at some point, but he didn't. Josh told me it was because I had already talked to him about a lot of those issues and we'd discussed what he would do (I got a big smile there).

I think this week is going to be one of those gratifying ones where as a parent you get some good back for all the work you put in to your kids.

Yay!

The Worst Wisdom Teeth Story Ever

A friend of mine took her two sons to have their wisdom teeth out last Friday.

It was a local anesthetic, they didn't put them under. I personally think you should always be put under when you have your wisdom teeth removed. Here's a good reason why:

The dentist had his tooth extractor in position to remove the oldest boy's upper left wisdom tooth when the boy coughed. This caused the dentist to jerk and shove the tooth clear up into the fatty tissue of the boy's cheek.

Really.

The dentist then spend 35 minutes trying to find the wisdom tooth. He couldn't get it.

So he left it there. Somewhere in his upper cheek.

He said that they'll leave it there for two months and hope that gravity causes it to migrate back down to his jaw where they can take it out.

If it doesn't, they may just leave it there.

Wow.

A Worker Bee

When people ask me to describe myself, I say that I am a worker bee.

I get the greatest fulfillment from jumping into a task and working like a drone until it is finished. And thanks to the genetics from my Grandpa Gresko, I can work and work and work and work. When my parents lived with us, my dad and I took on the task of renovating the house and yard. My dad, who is a great worker, told me, "You can out-work me, Kris. I don't know how you keep at it for so long."

When I was in high school, I connected with the scripture in 2 Nephi that talks about "being an instrument in the hands of God." That's what I want to be, an instrument.

This morning, a friend sent me this poem and said it reminded her of me.

TO BE OF USE by Marge Piercy

The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.

That is what I ask. Let me be of use.

Senior Sunday

Yesterday was Senior Sunday in my church.

Never heard of it? Neither had I until we moved into this house 8 years ago.

It is a fabulous tradition.

A couple of Sunday's before high school graduation, all of the seniors in the ward who are graduating are the speakers for the main meeting (sacrament). They usually get a topic from our church's "For the Strength of Youth" pamphlet, like honesty, accountability, etc.

It is by far one of my favorite meetings (the other being the Sunday before Christmas when we sing carols the whole time). The kids are so excited about life and they're heading off to college or missions and the sheer potential of their lives just gets me all giddy. There is also usually a musical number by the youth that is a "put goose bumps on your skin" kind of piece.

This year was no exception. And especially poignant for me because, well, for the first time, I had a senior.

Josh's topic was education. If you know me, you know that education is a pretty important thing at our house, so I wondered how he would approach it.

Josh talked about how our whole life experience is an education. That we have the opportunity to learn formally through school, but also the responsibility to learn from all areas of our lives. He talked about the three things he had learned in high school: 1. To love other people, 2. How to work, and 3. Importance of faith.

He really spoke from the heart. It was personal. It was real. And it was by far my favorite talk (and the best, too, I think, but I might be biased).

All 9 seniors spoke, and they sang "Homeward Bound" for their song. David cried through almost the whole meeting. I smiled and beamed and was so happy.

It was a good day.

Has anyone seen my glasses?

I got new glasses. Aren't they cute?

I haven't had new glasses in, like, 15 years. That's because I have always sworn I would be a contact lens person. I love contact lenses. It's almost like you're just a regular person. No one can tell they're in, there's not a circle of blur around the edge of your vision, they don't weigh heavy on your nose and around your ears. I've avoided lasik (surgery? on my eyes?) because I've had such great results from contacts.

No more.

Contacts rebelled against me last fall. I thought it was just from overuse, but as the months went by, I still couldn't put them in.

Turns out, I have almost zero liquid in my eyeballs. The doctor put this dye in that's supposed to take like 12 seconds to evaporate if your eyes are well-lubricated. My eye did it in one blink. The doc says that rules out contact lens wearing for me. He did give me a trial pack of the daily wear lenses to see if that would work. They lasted 5 hours.

So, now I'm wearing glasses and semi-seriously considering lasik.

What do you think of my new shades?

Can You Say Remodel?

About a month ago, we were sitting around looking at our house and thinking, "You know, we really ought to fix this place up."

This is not a new thought. We bought this house 8 years ago as a "fixer-upper" and zealously set to work and we did really well for a couple of years, but then we ran out of money and we got tired. So we put our blinders on and just lived with it.

We were going to replace the floors in the kitchen and dining room, just something small to start with, but that spread to replacing the countertops and then floors in the family room and basement and the bathrooms...and well, now I'm sitting in the only room on the main floor that is not torn to pieces.

The workmen are tearing out the tile floor we installed 8 years ago (why you ask? David did not like it). We must have done a good job because I have heard the word "jack hammer" tossed around a couple of times and one of the guys said "this is why I should have stayed in school."

I knew we were asking for trouble when we started on the bathrooms - the guys up there are pulling out floorboard and shaking their heads and saying things like "gonna have to pull out the whole thing" and "floor is sloping."

I may be messing up the workmens' vibe because before they realized I was here, I heard some profanity, but it stopped pretty quick once I was introduced. I can't leave--I'm sick, so I hope they find their mojo.

One guy said, "Pretty crazy, huh? It has to get worse before it gets better."

We shall see...

Photographer

I love pictures.

Taking pictures, editing pictures, scrapbooking pictures....pictures are just awesome.

So I was delighted when I learned that my husband was also into pictures. Well, into photography, and he was good at it.

Over the past 20 years, he has spent many, many hours and a lot of money developing his photography skills and in the process, I have benefited from his passion because I have fabulous pictures.

I was so proud when this book came out this week featuring over 20 pictures that my husband took when he went with the author hiking through Havasupai. There is even a picture of my husband taking a picture in the first chapter!

It is even more amazing because he had to backpack his camera equipment down into the canyon (60 lb. pack) and back up out.

Way to go, hon!

You can see more of David's work at his website www.legacyimagesinc.com