My kind sister spent hours, many hours, formatting and editing this treasure for us to enjoy. In Hamilton there is a song- Who lives who dies who tells your story. My dad said "No one else is writing so you are telling the story."
That's heavy and laughable funny to me. Life is so dynamic. As I well know everyone has a different perspective. I'm thankful for bishop Rick John counseling us to take more pictures so many years ago. I'm thankful for Richard Sandberg suggesting a weekly family email. I'm even more grateful to Rachel Corn Hawkins blogging and suggesting I figure it out for myself. And for my parents who have read for these many years. Knowing they were reading kept me writing. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's just the day-to-day, and sometimes it's tender like births and deaths. But it is us.
I'm very thankful for both parties my parents and sister for making this a real tangible book. It has been joyous to watch these kids read about their childhood and remember how we lived back then. Wood projects are mostly a thing of the past. Triathalon competition has never been repeated. Babies in flour is always repeating. And many are missing as they weren't born yet.
This has been a fulfillment of a part of my patriarchial blessing. I told Greg it fascinates me so much of that has come to pass or is part of our identity now. From being a musical family- not what I envisioned but I'm pretty sure our friends and neighbors would agree with that right now, to recording our history my list is getting checked off. I don't think that means the end is near but rather through seemingly random acts or choices I am living promises that are blessing my and other lives. The perspective of midlife is sure comforting. Life is good and we are blessed.
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