Weigh...I mean...Way to Wellness

Remember yo-yos? Did you ever have one? Have you ever been on one?  

Image by PngTree.com

Ever since I gained 85 pounds when I was pregnant with Sarah (yes, it was controllable, and yes, my doctor was mad), I'm constantly on the weight loss yo-yo. Well, I'm at the point now when the yo-yo is in my hand and I'm getting ready to make it go down...my weight, that is. 

There are a lot of reasons. 

1. I'm tired of grimacing and being embarrassed when I see photos of myself - even head and shoulders.
2. Every joint in my body hurts and I know that the added pressure of weight is doing anything but helping them.
3. My left knee is still recovering from total knee replacement surgery (October, 2023). I'll need to do the other one eventually, and weight loss will help the healing and recovery of both.
4. I'm planning to do an international trip to visit family in September and traveling is difficult when you're overweight and out of shape.
5. Someday I hope to either dance at my kids' weddings or hold & play with grandkids, and I want to do both with fluidity, ease, enjoyment, and without embarrassment.
6. But, the kicker was, my doctor noted in her visit record after a physical that I 'presented as obese' and said I was pre-diabetic. On a side note, I heard comedian Ricky Gervais say, 'If we aren't diabetic, then aren't we all, technically, pre-diabetic?' That made me feel a little better. But, really. WTF? Talk about a wake-up call.

What's the damage? How far does that yo-yo have to fall? Well, let's see. It's early, so let me grab my calculator. 45-55 lbs. Yes. In two months, equivalent to my age in pounds (on the high end). At my age. With my current physical limitations. It's overwhelming and disheartening. I have had trouble even finding the motivation to try because it's SUCH a HUGE number. Seems completely undoable without some sort of help or kick start.

Where do I begin, er...continue? 

• Weight loss surgery, as in gastric bypass, is a hard pass for me. 
• I'm already pescatarian and nearly dairy free, so no worries about red meat, high fat, cholesterol, and whatever else comes along with a carnivorous diet. 
• I started on an estrogen patch, so I have some hope that will also reduce my 'trunk' weight. 
• There's buzz about GLP-1 agonists (i.e. Ozempic, Trulicity) for weight loss. All the celebrities are doing it which has, honestly, never been a motivator for me. But I did asked my GI doctor about it when I went in for a check on a hiatal hernia - genetic, not weight related. She absolutely loves it and said something like, 'when the FDA approves it for weight loss, it will revolutionize the weight-loss industry.' The downfalls, it's not covered by insurance and it's expensive, there are significant dietary changes required, and it's for life. But, I'm keeping that on the back burner. 
• Plastic surgery, as in tummy tuck & liposuction, is also out there.

My last self-propelled effort to help the downspin before heading down the Ozempic-brick road is joining a program offered by the company I work for called Way to Wellness. It used to be called Weigh to Health but I guess they realized there's more to wellness than health, and there's more than one way to achieve it besides weight loss.

I'll be meeting with a cohort of about ten participants and a dietitian to learn and implement micro-changes in lifestyle that will make me healthier. Hopefully, by having a healthier body and making more sustainable life choices, the weight will drop. We'll see about that. I'm not confident.

This program is one-year long and consists of twenty cohort virtual gatherings for support, advice, and goal-setting. I will also have three one-on-one meetings with a dietitian, one at the beginning, one halfway through, and one at the end. The bonus is that, if I meet the program goals - going to every meeting and actively participating - my insurance will pay for it. 

So, I'm starting there and, if after four months I'm not seeing marked improvement, I'm gonna get me some Ozempic.

Updates to follow...in another post.

Flying to a new empty nest - December 2022

Yeah, yeah. I know. It's about time. Well, here it is, a year late.

***

Once upon a time, we realized that something my mother-in-law said decades ago was coming true for us.

Let me back up. (Insert record scratch *freeze-frame, back-up* sound effect here)

I LOVED being a mom. Still do. Especially, well, maybe not especially, but most chaotically, when the kids were little. This period, in a mother’s warped sense of time, goes from pregnancy until they moved out. It's been my primary existence, superseding even that of wife. No offense to Dave, of course. I’ve love him with all my heart. I couldn’t possibly love him more. I’ve loved him long before I started loving our kids. I still love him with the entirety of my being. And yet, since they each chose us and decided to change our future by joining it, my heart has fully encompassed that love, too. 

It's the Grinch Effect. #iykyk

Fast forward about 10 years to Thanksgiving. We were at my in-laws’ house. It was tradition. She asked for Thanksgiving, and we could spend Christmas with “Us”, or “Them”. So, it was a BIG to-do. Everyone came in. Flew or drove from wherever they were. The numbers grew as our families did. Food. So much food. Children running amuck. And, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, to “kick off the holiday season.”

One Thanksgiving, in a moment of reflection during an otherwise immemorable conversation, she mentioned that her family was changing. She was no longer at the center of her children's circle of influence. They had their own families, and those families came with other families, and there were now others competing for her children's time. She was seeing us less and less and, while she understood what was happening, it made her sad. She was thinking forward to a time when she and dad would be back to just “Us”.

That’s what happens to all parents when their littles become bigs.

The circle of life of a family, Venn Diagram-style (I am a teacher, after all), goes something like this.

We are distinct individuals that show ourselves to each other with unabashed pride. We are unedited. We are young individuals. Free of responsibility and devoted to one another.

We are hopelessly in love and decide that nothing in life can make us happier than each other.

Me and Him become hardly recognizable. I know that’s bad grammar, but I’m sticking with my diagram labels.

We grow, change, become, as one unit. Differences become commonalities. We morph. While we still maintain some sense of our individuality - hobbies, tempers, levels of sarcasm - Me and Him are now just Us. We make decisions based on what matters to Us. Our circle of influence merges into the center of that new, overlapped entity.

At some point we decide, what? That Us/We aren’t enough? That We need something? That We need someone else to love? Or maybe it is something else. The proverbial clock setting a timer on our biology. Systems kicking into gear that we don’t know are there. New desires rearing their heads. Who knows?

But, whatever happens, Me and Him come back, not quite the same as we once were, not the way we want to be, necessarily. Not really Us, anymore, but not really Me and Him, either. And squished between, a new element is added. Suddenly things don’t align as well. Or maybe they do. Either way, little beings come into our life bringing joy and pain and chaos and questions and triumphs and lessons and shortcomings and arguments and love.

Over time, sometimes a short time, sometimes a long time, sometimes a timeline that waxes and wanes, we form into a new, different, bigger unit. We are young marrieds, full of responsibility, devoted to each other and to these little creatures.

And then they grow up. And the circle of influence changes again. 

We hope for this. A differently shaped Us with little edges of...well, us. A big, amalgamated, rainbow overlap of Us. Of course, it's not realistic. But it's my blog.

But we ended up with this. Or, at least, it feels like that. I'm sure it was somewhere in the middle.

They have their own circles that sometimes line up with ours but rarely overlap each other’s and even more rarely still all overlap at once.

Those little creatures who were the center of your circle become distinct individuals who are young individuals, free of responsibility, developing around their own center.

They find their someone and become devoted to one another. They are hopelessly in love and decide that nothing in life can make them happier than each other.

This dynamic is the ideal. It’s what I hope we gave our parents, but probably didn’t, and what we hope our children give us, but probably won’t.

But, somehow, in different ways, small or large, waxing and waning over time, we learn to share the most precious element of ourselves. The product of Us. The loves of our lives.

And we get this. And we live for the overlaps.

And it’s hard.

And don't even get me started on this.

And even though we know what’s happening, it makes us sad.

The overlaps become smaller as more circles are added to the mix. It’s harder to find time. Time is spent in other ways.

And we realize that Mom was right.

Our kids’ circles of influence were shifting. We realized that our kids were going to live their lives wherever and however and with whomever they wanted, and we would likely have little influence in those decisions. And that was okay. That was a good thing. It meant we’d done our job as parents. We’d raised independently-thinking, self-sufficient, intelligent, capable, and lovely people who are entitled to have their own circle, separate from but intrinsically intertwined with ours, even if from a distance.

So, our circle shifted, too. It was time to start making decisions based on what matters to Us. Again. We’d come full circle (no pun intended, you know, with the Venns and whatnot), just like our parents had, and their parents before them, and, someday, our kids.

So, we began to ask ourselves and each other, “What did ‘We’ want to do, and where did ‘We’ want to do it?”

We were getting closer to retirement. Dave was 9-ish years away. Did we want to retire where in Utah? In the snow? Nope.

But our kids are in Utah! We can’t leave our kids!

But our kids are independent, and living their own lives, with their own circles of influence, and they’re going to go where they want or need to be, likely without Us factoring into that decision.

It was time to start making decisions based on what matters to Us. We had to keep reminding ourselves of this whenever the ‘But our kids are in Utah’ factor kept, well, factoring in.

Okay. Now let me go back to where the story started. (Insert record scratch *freeze-frame, back-up* sound effect here.) I guess, in that way, this post is like a recipe blog.

I had felt pulled to Texas for years. I have no idea why. Some cosmic, or psychic, or illusionary thing was directing my path to Texas. It was where I needed to be. Maybe not end up, but be. Who knew? I certainly didn’t. How was I expected to think about where I would be for 9-ish years, let alone forever?

At that point in my life, I was making decisions for the short term. But that’s another post.

Dave’s job is one that requires him to travel. He is the Western Region Director for a wholesale tire distributor called “Friend Tire”. He covers a four-state area, including Utah, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Texas. That’s convenient.

Over the past several years, before he moved into the Director position and when he was the manager of the Salt Lake location, he had been offered the Belton, TX, “branch” two or three different times, along with several other locations – Shreveport, LA, Davenport, FL, Oklahoma City, OK, but we’d turned them down for numerous and differing reasons. Turning down Belton seemed like the wrong decision to us every time, but circumstances kept us where we were. The kids were still at home, and we couldn’t rip them from their lives. Our parents were in Utah and aging, and we wanted to be near them. The kids moved out, and we couldn’t abandon them. As I said, circumstances kept us where we were.

And then the circles started to shift.

Once we decided we were going to move out of Utah, which was no small feat in and of itself due to aforementioned factors, I tagged along with him on his travels. But it snowed in every location except Texas, and that was our main driving factor. So, there we were. We were moving to Texas.

The first step was to sell our house in Herriman. I hadn’t ever developed a tie to that house. It was a great house – don’t get me wrong – that we had literally built from the walls in. What could have our own touch, did. And it had served us well for the reasons we’d chosen it (I should say “he’d chosen it”, as I was in no place to make decisions of any kind) – good schools, safe neighborhood, similar style to what we’d had in Colorado, ‘diamond in the rough’, blah, blah, blah. I’m sure there were other reasons, but I wasn’t in any place to do listening of any kind, either.

We used the same realtor, and now a friend, who had helped us buy the house in the first place. It was the peak of a crazy sellers-market in 2021. You can read about it if you weren’t around or involved in it at the time. The offer we took came in on the second day it was listed for a ridiculous amount over asking and a very nice profit, which put a dent in the retirement we lost in Colorado.

30 days later, we were in a one-year rental, a duplex, which was centrally located, close to the kids, a perfect floorplan for my now work-from-home existence, and door-dashable (or so we thought). That will definitely have to be another post because that year was as good as fiction. I literally could not make up the things we experienced there.

The move itself was cleansing and cathartic. As I’d said, I hadn’t ever developed a tie to that house. So, leaving it felt like the closing of a dark chapter. Finally.

I took that 30 days to go through everything, and I mean everything in our basement, which frankly looked like our prior moving truck had just opened up the window and dumped everything in years before. I created zones…

• Trash
• Giveaways
• Sell
• Furniture
• Off-season clothes
• Memorabilia, including scrapbooks, pictures, baby clothes, my high school science folder (I’m sentimental that way), which took up a good half
• Books, which took up a good third of the other half (I know. I'm obsessed. Don't judge.)

…boxed and labeled what was coming with us…and called a 1-800-COME-GET-MY-CRAP type company to get rid of the trash. (No, this is not a sponsored blog, so I won't be giving out the actual name. However, they did do a phenomenal job so, if you want a private reference, you got my digits.)

I reached out to a local church that was having a yard sale to benefit their women’s program and offered them the giveaway pile. After not selling most of the sell pile, I sent that all with them, too. It filled our single-car garage. One older couple showed up with their truck and minivan and Beverly Hillbillied it all on out of there. No tie downs. No tarps. “We’ll drive slow”, she said. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The rest came with us and went straight into the basement of our rental. And then got purged and repacked and relabeled again after nine months of rental hell. At the risk of sounding pretentious, I’m not a renter. I’m a good renter, but I’m not a renter. Way too independent and capable to be dependent on someone else who really couldn’t care less about any issues we were having. Again, that will be another post.

Anyway, about 4 months into living there, we realized there was no way in hell we were going to renew our lease and we would need to move by the following May. Was that timing right to leave? Did we want to go into a different rental? Some of the factors previously keeping us there had shifted again. Dave’s mom had died. My dad had died. Both kids had moved out and started their own circles.

In September 2021, I traveled with Dave to see the Belton, Texas, area and immediately felt like I was home. I absolutely loved it. It was SO green! It was warm and humid – my happy place. People were insanely friendly. Things were cheap. It wasn’t crowded. There was no inversion. 

I was sold.

Dave wasn’t.

We went back home and vacillated (well, he vacillated; I was resolute). After weeks of talking about moving to Belton, he finally admitted to me that he was just heartbroken over leaving the kids. It kind of broke him. So, I caved and said, “Let’s just stay.” We looked at rentals, but I’m not a renter. We looked at purchases, but the market was still crazy, and we would have to pay more than we made on our Herriman house to get something that was way less, well, less everything – less space, less yard, less privacy. That clearly wasn’t the best use of our newly reinstated retirement funds.

Then we took ourselves on a walk down memory lane, back about 25ish years or so, and talked about the shifting circles of influence.

We contracted with a realtor in Texas shortly thereafter, still heartbroken, but resigned. In January 2022, we went to Texas twice to do home tours. We drove around endlessly. We fell in love with a couple of homes and walked into others immediately shaking our heads. One was so amazing that we were ready to make an offer sight unseen, but lost the opportunity when the sellers accepted an offer on day one of the listing. The market was crazy in Texas, too.

A week or so later, our agent emailed us information on a home that was going to be listed by another agent in his same office the following day. We couldn't afford to hesitate hopped on a red eye that night and were the first people to walk through it. There were actually two right next door to one another, and they weren’t even finished yet. When we walked into the second one, I told Dave, “This is it.”  It was where I needed to be. Maybe not end up, but be.

We made an offer on the spot, and the builder accepted it before we got back on the plane. It would be ours on March 1, 2022.

I took the next couple of months going through everything, and I mean everything, in our basement, which was a lot more organized than the last one as per aforementioned purge/pack/label process. But, now that we knew what we were moving into, and that we wouldn’t have a basement anymore (it’s a Texas thing – something to do with the water table?), I had to put a lot more thought into the purging part.

Every single scrapbook box was opened and sorted. I scanned and emailed and then threw away photos of others. I disassembled yearbooks, keeping only the pages with our faces on them. I took pictures of baby clothes and then put the actual clothes in the giveaway pile. I evaluated furniture, out of season clothing, dishes, exercise equipment, things I could get rid of now and then rebuy later rather than moving them. Like our boat.  :(  I wish we’d kept that, actually. Did you know there are a LOT of lakes in Texas? Like A WHOLE LOT.

When moving day finally came, a Saturday, I think, the semi-trailer we had rented after a very long and arduous comparison - U-Haul vs Pods vs Full-Service vs vs vs vs - decision-making process about how to get the remaining stuff to Texas, arrived. We hired several people to bring all of Mom’s stuff from her place to ours, and then pack it all into the trailer. And ran out of space. We had to get a drivable U-Haul truck at the literal last minute – like hours before we were leaving – and shift drivers to accommodate the extra vehicle.

The next morning, we pulled out, cautiously hoping that the hired driver would show up at some point to hook up our semi-trailer. Dave drove the U-Haul and towed a flatbed trailer holding his hot rod. I drove Dave’s truck with the dogs as my passengers. Sarah and Brian took turns driving my car with mom as company in the passenger seat, and mom’s car with music and Audible and silence. We stopped halfway, in Albuquerque, then rolled in to our new hometown on Monday.

The house was done, as promised, with a few quality-control issues that we navigated for the first, oh, let’s see, we’re in month 10 and still working through them. We stayed in a hotel the first night (the girls and dogs in one, and the boys in another – can’t remember the reasoning behind that, but it probably isn’t integral to the story), as we didn’t arrive until very late. Dave was a genius and packed our beds in the little truck he drove. Good thing since said hired driver did show up but took a couple of more days to catch up. Our first morning, he and Brian got to the house early to unpack the little truck, get the beds set up, and put what limited things we had into either the house or a storage unit we’d rented ahead of time.

We only had the kids for a couple of days before they flew home, and we didn’t have much stuff to unpack yet, so we ended up with some time to tour around, eat out, and enjoy each other’s company. Our favorite Venn.

They headed back home Thursday, and I took them to the airport in Austin while Dave stayed at the house with the dogs and met the semi and the laborers we hired on this end (definitely the best money we spent throughout the entire process, the loaders and unloaders). When I got back, unpacking began. We were able to get mostly done by the following Sunday, believe it or not. Good thing, since Dave had to get back to his normal travel routine of 3 weeks away, 1 week at home.

Now, it’s December. We’re 10 months in and one year and a day since we made our offer. Today was in the low 70s and it will climb to the low 80s tomorrow. In December. With no snow. Mission accomplished.

After staying with us for the first six months, mom is now settled in her own place and loving it. Sarah has since moved here as well, and bought a home with her boyfriend, Bryson, in a neighboring town. The three little households are all about 15 minutes from one another. Brian is still in Utah, and we’re hoping he and his girlfriend, Riley, find their forever home once their lives settle down a bit. And we hope it increases the overlaps of our circles.

So, our circles shift again, and go on shifting and shifting, forever. The circles get closer, then farther apart, but never separate. No matter how far apart we are or how long in between hugs, we are never separate. 

We just keep living for those rainbow overlaps. 

I'm Not for Everyone

Here's a song about me. ;)

Some people clap on the one and three
Some people clap on the two and four
Some people don't join at all
'Cause they got no rhythm
And that's alright 

Some people, they drink too much
Some people don't drink enough
Some people are just like me
I hope y'all forgive 'em

I'm like scotch and zydeco bands
I'm like B-side Townes Van Zandt
I'm always speaking my mind
When I'm better off biting my tongue
I'm a bad joke at the wrong time
Hell, I'm a legend in my own mind
I'm good for some but I'm not for everyone

If I was sweet tea, it'd be a bit bitter
If you took a drink, you might reconsider
If I was a church, I'd be hanging with the sinners
Talking 'bout Hendrix and Heaven

If I was a bar, I'd be a dive
A free jukebox in a double-wide
Neon lights saying "Come inside"
And I'd be "Open 24/7"

I'm like scotch and zydeco bands
I'm like B-side Townes Van Zandt
I'm always speaking my mind
When I'm better off biting my tongue
I'm a bad joke at the wrong time
Hell, I'm a legend in my own mind
I'm good for some but I'm not for everyone

Yeah, I'm hard to love, it's true
I'm a little more rough than smooth
It's a wonder I found somebody like me, like you

I'm like scotch and zydeco bands
I'm like B-side Townes Van Zandt
I'm always speaking my mind
When I'm better off biting my tongue
I'm a bad joke at the wrong time
Hell, I'm a legend in my own mind
I'm good for some but I'm not for everyone
Yeah, I'm good for some but I'm not for everyone

Brother's Osborne - I'm Not for Everyone

Buy Dirt

A few days before he turned 80

He was sittin' out back in a rocker.

He said, "What you been up to lately?"
I told him, "Chasing a dollar"

And in between sips of coffee
He poured this wisdom out
Said, "If you want my two cents

on making a dollar count

Buy dirt

Find the one you can't live without
Get a ring, let your knee hit the ground
Do what you love but call it work
And throw a little money in the plate at church
Send your prayers up and your roots down deep
Add a few limbs to your family tree
And watch their pencil marks
And the grass in the yard all grow up

'Cause the truth about it is
It all goes by real quick
You can't buy happiness
But you can buy dirt.

Before you get caught on that ladder
Let me tell you what it's all about
Find you a few things that matter
That you can put a fence around

And then he laid it out
Buy dirt

Find the one you can't live without
Get a ring, let your knee hit the ground
Do what you love but call it work
And throw a little money in the plate at church
Send your prayers up and your roots down deep
And add a few limbs to your family tree
And watch their pencil marks
And the grass in the yard all grow up
'Cause the truth about it is
It all goes by real quick
You can't buy happiness

But you can buy dirt

You can buy dirt

And thank the good Lord for it
'Cause He ain't makin' any more of it

So buy dirt

Find the one you can't live without
Get a ring, let your knee hit the ground
Do what you love but call it work
And throw a little money in the plate at church
Send your prayers up and your roots down deep
Add a few limbs to your family tree
And watch their pencil marks
And the grass in the yard all grow up
'Cause the truth about it is
It all goes by real quick
You can't buy happiness

But you can buy dirt.”

xoxo

Jordan Davis - Buy Dirt

What happened to 2021?

Apparently I have nothing good to say about 2021. Wait. Maybe I do. Let me think about it. Check back later.

To appoint or not to appoint - That is the question

It's 2020.

If you're my grandchild and the year is 2030 or so, you may have, or may yet, learn about "2020 - The Groundhog Day of Years from Hell." Okay, so your teacher may put it more diplomatically, but I'm not your teacher. So ...

That's another (several) posts. 2020, I mean, and all its antics.

But, there are a few parts of that GDYFH that pertain to this topic, so allow me to digress.

First, and you probably learned this in your History class, Donald Trump is President. (I say 'was' because, by the year 2030 or so, I'm hopeful and relatively certain that he won't be any longer.)

Second, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, only the second woman to serve on the Supreme Court, died at age 87. I sincerely hope you've learned about her in History. She was a champion of gender equality, a beacon for women. She fought for justice. If you don't know, learn. The Notorious RBG was a force who deserves to be remembered.

Those things brings us to my third point. President Trump selected his nominee for RBGs replacement, a woman named Amy Coney Barrett. She was a controversial pick for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is her membership in a religious group called People of Praise, a small group of people from various denominations. One of the group's main tenants is patriarchy.

Which led me to share a repost from @MotherJones (that's their Instagram handle, in case you don't have social media anymore in 2030 – which would probably be a good thing), that said, "Amy Coney Barrett is a member of People of Praise, a charismatic covenant community in South Bend, Indiana, known for known for the submissive role played by women, some of whom were called ‘handmaids’ - at least until 'The Handmaids Tale' aired in 2017."

Oh, that's another thing about 2020 that you definitely wouldn't have learned about in History, unless you're living it - The Handmaid's Tale. It's a multi-season series based on a patriarchal, religiously-driven society formed that pulls women from their families and sends them into various roles including surrogates for elite but infertile couples. It's a horror and I pray to all things holy that 2030 does not find us in this reality. But the show’s a great binge. 

Aaaanyyyywayyyy . . .

Hearing about the nominee's affiliation with the People of Praise brought aa large segment of society to their knees, fearing just that. It would be the beginning of the end for women. Not only does the nominee go against everything that her predecessor worked for during 13 years on the SCOTUS, but everything that women have been fighting to obtain for generations - opportunity, equality, and respect.

My post sparked a response from a friend of mine which encouraged me to do some fact checking. She believed the nominee to be, instead, Catholic. So, I did. If Instagram had allowed me to post this lengthy of a comment, I would have. But it wouldn't, so I didn't. Instead, I suggested anyone wanting to learn what I did should read this post. So, here's what I would have said, if I could.

Thanks for the suggestion to fact check. I learned even more. She is a member of People of Praise, as reported. It shouldn’t be called or compared to Catholicism, though. That would be like calling or comparing modern Mormons to Fundamentalist LDS, which, as you know, may have come from the same foundational religion, but are now nothing alike.

 

To be honest, I couldn’t care less what her religious beliefs are, as that is personal and private. The fact that they speak in tongues, live communally, and contribute their paychecks to a “sisterhood budget”, may seem weird to some, but is of no concern to me. In fact, I admire anyone who has a religious faith so strong that they are willing to personally sacrifice to honor it.

 

What I do take issue with, are the facts that she is:

 

·     against the ACA (did you learn about that?), calling it ‘unconstitutional’ [I believe affordable healthcare is a fundamental right of everyone living in a civilized society and that no one should be bankrupt by a medical emergency];

 

·     is not only against, but hostile toward, groups like Planned Parenthood, and would vote to overrule Roe v Wade; [Groups like these make legal reproductive health possible for many women who would not otherwise have access to it and I support them]

 

·     not only disagrees with gun control but outwardly opposes laws that ban felons from owning guns [I don’t believe that anyone needs an assault rifle, ‘weapon of mass destruction’, or other military-grade firearm, let alone felons or those in a mental health crisis and that universal gun control laws including criminal and psychological background checks are the fastest way to eliminate things like mass shootings]

 

·     doesn’t want to allow immigrants to get Green Cards if they are likely to need federal assistance; [I believe America was founded on its immigrant roots, earning its nickname of ‘a melting pot’, and that every one of us comes from an immigrant from somewhere. Blocking the path for foreigners to gain citizenship, especially when they are fleeing religions, political, or gang persecution is irresponsible as global citizens. We need to be making the path to citizenship easier, blocking obstacles and eliminating red tape, so that anyone who wants to live in this great country is welcomed and safe, regardless of their financial state.)

 

·     and that she lives in (and promotes) a subservient lifestyle by women. To quote one of the group’s leaders, “Much of it goes back to the concept of obedience, authority and headship. When you’re a married woman, your head is your husband but it doesn’t go the other way around. A man can never have a female head.” Craig Lent, coordinator for People of Praise https://www.southbendtribune.com/news/local/supreme-court-opening-shines-spotlight-on-local-religious-group-people-of-praise/article_569b0dd6-145a-59df-9bf7-2280009fd582.html [Aside from her social stances being far outside of anything I could stand behind, this kind of patriarchal mindset goes against everything that I believe. Women are powerful leaders who should never be subservient to anyone, let alone their life partner.]

 

And, we haven’t even touched on other ‘top story’ social issues like police brutality, black oppression, LGBTQ discrimination, and on and on. I can probably guess how she would side on those issues, and I can probably bet that it is polar opposite of me.

 

Having someone like Amy Barrett on the Supreme Court, and her appointment resulting in a 2/3 majority for republicans, is dangerous to the democracy in the United States (29% self-proclaim as republican, while democrats count 71% as democratic or independent) and is not aligned with the makeup of our country’s citizens’ beliefs. I strongly oppose her appointment.

 

And, my own beliefs aside, the precedent was set in 2016 when President Obama’s nominee, Merrick Garland, to replace Justice Scalia was blocked. ‘Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell declared any appointment by the sitting president to be null and void. He said the next Supreme Court justice should be chosen by the next president—to be elected later that year.’ (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Merrick_Garland_Supreme_Court_nomination#:~:text=On%20March%2016%2C%202016%2C%20President,had%20died%20one%20month%20earlier). Funny how he changes his tune when the President and nominee sit on his side of the aisle.

 

Anyway, thanks again for the challenge – I learned a lot!

 And, I hope you have, too.

Oh, and I've also donated to and am actively promoting the person - a strong woman - running against Mitch McConnell and looking for opportunities to support term limits and the abolishment of the Electoral College because I fear the continuation of both will have a profoundly negative influence on our future.

#BidenHarris2020     #SettleforBiden     #ByeDon

Corona-what-us?

As I said, as we entered this decade, we fell headlong into a pending pandemic. It was great.

Little did we know when we got on that plane to visit Roots and Roosts. Yes, we knew there was a novel (aka "new") virus going around somewhere in China, and it may or may not be making its way to the rest of the world. But we had no idea, not in our wildest imagination, what we had in store. We had no idea that the entire planet was about to have the rug pulled out from under it, dropping us to our collective knees.

A strain of coronavirus - a group of viruses, including the 'common cold' that cause respiratory and other symptoms - had been found after someone at the Huanan Seafood Wholesale Market in Wuhan, China, bought pangolin meat that had been infected by SARS-CoV-2 virus when the animal was bit by a horseshoe bat. (SARS-CoV is the strain of coronavirus that causes Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome.) The infection transferred to the person and then developed in to CoVid-19 (so named because it started in 2019). Apparently, that can happen with some viruses. It’s called zoonotic transmission.

The last time this happened was in 2003, when a similar virus, which we just called SARS, was transmitted from a bat to a Masked Palm Civet which was then eaten by a human. Another outbreak caused by zoonotic transmission was MERS-CoV, Middle East Respiratory Syndrome, which was contracted by eating a similarly infected dromedary camel. The vegetarian in me says, let’s not eat animals anymore. But the realistic me says, can we at least draw the line at eating exotic animals?

Anyway . . .

The first US case was diagnosed on January 21, three days into our California trip. The man had traveled to the Wuhan province, where he contracted the virus, and then back to his hometown of New York City before it developed into CoVid-19. By the end of January, there were seven cases in the US. Fast forward to the end of March, and we would see an exponential increase to nearly 187,000 cases and over 3,800 deaths. Two weeks later and we’d have 525,000 cases and over 20,000 deaths nationwide. We had officially surpassed any other country in number of cases, making CoVid-19 the number one cause of death in the United States. Worldwide, the toll was astronomical – over 1.8 million people have been infected, 113,000+ dying from the disease as of mid-April.

The next three months saw a mind-bending flurry of activity in attempts to ‘crush the curve’. States, counties, and cities implemented ‘shelter in place’ orders, stopping just short of ticketing people for leaving their homes. Employers scrambled to put work-from-home protocols, equipment, and bandwidth in place. Hospitals are short on supplies such as masks, gloves, gowns, and staff. Front-line workers began wearing protective plastic face shields and full-body protection. ICU beds and ventilators reached critical lows. Military ships are docked in major ports to serve as temporary hospitals. Ages of those affected grew younger as death counts rose. Countries experienced hundreds of fatalities every day. Borders were closed. Flights were grounded. Business were shuttered. Jobless exceeded 16 million. Social distancing became a buzz word. Drive-thru testing sites were built. International heads of state were hospitalized. The government promised token stimulus checks to families. Parties were divided. Friends and extended families were separated by a minimum of six feet. Newscasters and late-night hosts filmed from their living rooms, or front porches, or tents set up in their back yards. Zoom (a video conferencing platform) became a household word. Children participated in online school.

People either panicked or felt invincible and indifferent. The panicked ones stayed home, self-isolated, did without. The invincible and indifferent continued with life as if nothing were happening. Pastors defied recommendations and held massive church services. Spring breakers flooded places like Mexico and Florida. Families gathered for Sunday dinners. 

And, as a result, cases remain on the rise. We have yet to hit the apex, medical experts say. The government, and society, are fighting a delicate balance between health and finance – steps we need to take to finally eradicate this virus seem to lead us to a long-term economic recession. Billions of dollars have been lost. The stock market has plummeted. When will it end? What will it cost? And how do you reconcile the rebound of finances at the cost of human life?

And yet, the air is clear. Emissions and greenhouse gasses have dropped. Light pollution has lessened. Animals that haven’t been seen in geographies for decades have suddenly reappeared. The planet seems to be healing itself now that we’ve gotten out of its way.

Families are rediscovering each other. Parents are learning what it takes to be a teacher, and a stay-at-home mom. Times together (from six feet away) are more precious than ever. Car picnics are a thing. Porch portraits are a thing. Graduation parades are a thing. Bear hunts are a thing. Can we do without the money, the travel, the busy-ness? Can we heal our obsession for collecting things and put our energy into collecting memories? Can we please keep the good things that have been forced upon us by this unlikely source?

Governments say we will “re-open for business” on May 1. I can't help but to feel like that is too soon. Experts predict a second wave of cases by mid-summer if we do. I believe it will be August or later before we start to regain some of our old normal. 

I hope so. I want more time for healing. I’m not ready to come back to life.

Mary Jeannette Jewett Gibson ~ Apr 24, 1936 – Jan 4, 2020

I had the honor of giving the closing prayer at my mother-in-law's funeral on January 11. 

It was a tear-filled reunion for many friends and family members who were brought together originally BY this amazing woman, and brought together finally FOR her.

My husband acted, unwittingly, as MC, a last-minute fill-in for Mom and Dad’s church leader who – we found out later – got lost and showed up at the wrong funeral. Really. You can’t make this stuff up. I did nothing else by assignment but ended up being the person who greeted guests at the door to the funeral home and directed them to Dad, the viewing room, and the chapel where the service would be held. Other siblings each took on a task, which no one wanted to do, but everyone was privileged to do, and the service was beautiful.

There was a lovely memory table containing photos, scrapbooks, her poetry, the recipe for her famous dinner rolls, and various other remembrances. The service was very well attended, probably 200 people, from all walks of her life – early church friends and neighbors from their years in Long Beach, friends of the kids, and 40+ family members (those who could attend).

Dad is hopelessly deaf, hearing left behind forever in the firehouse where he served as captain for 30 years and lived among literally deafening bells and sirens. He has a cochlear implant, but it has only restored about 3% hearing to one ear. The other, without the implant, has none. We write him lots of notes. 😊 In that vein, I translated the service for him after the fact and created a memory book, complete with a full transcript, photos, and a written family tree as of that day.

Mom, Mary, was an extraordinary woman who was devoted to her God, her husband, and her family – in that order – and who never tired of giving everything she had, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and financially, to better the lives of others, whether she knew them or not. She would literally give you the shirt off her back if you needed it, and ask nothing in return. She took in wayward children, welcomed anyone to her table, and wasn’t afraid to tell you what you needed to hear, and then give you a hug. She left the world a better place, and I will miss her.

Here is story of her life, from the perspective of those she graced with her love.

***

Funeral services were on Saturday, January 11, 2020, at 10 a.m. at Warenski Funeral Home, 1776 N. 900 East, American Fork, Utah, 84003. A viewing was held at 8:30 a.m. prior to the service. Mary is buried at Wasatch Lawn Memorial Park, 3401 S Highland Dr, Salt Lake City, UT 84106.

Funeral Tributes

January 11, 2020

Family Prayer by Doug Gibson (in the viewing room before the service) ~

Dear Heavenly Father,

We are grateful for the opportunity to gather here, all of us together, and honor the memory of my mother, and grandmother, wife, Mary J. Gibson. We are grateful that she has lived a wonderful life and that we have the opportunity to pay tribute to her. We know that she is happy and at peace, and that her spirit is over us today, and that she is very aware of what we are doing today. We are grateful that she touched our lives in many, many ways and, for many of us, was the guiding influence in our lives. Bless us with the love and the desire to emulate her example on the earth, and to live a life of charity, love, and understanding. We are grateful for her and we are eager to pay tribute to her today.

We say these things in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Welcome by Dave Gibson ~

Good morning. I’d like to thank everyone for coming. My name is Dave Gibson, and on behalf of my family, I would like to welcome you all here today. We are going to have a wonderful service on behalf of my mom. We will start this morning with a hymn, Families can be Together Forever (one verse); We will have an opening prayer by Kati Gibson; Doug, my brother, will read mom’s obituary; my sister Nancy will present her Life Sketch; and then we will have a musical number by my sister Jane and her husband, Stuart, The Lord is My Shepherd.

Opening Hymn, Families Can Be Together Forever (This song was specially requested by Dave. He remembers singing this with mom at church when he was a little boy.)

I have a fam’ly here on earth.

They are so good to me.

I want to share my life with them

through all eternity.

Fam’lies can be together forever

Through Heav’nly Father’s plan.

I always want to be with my own family,

And the Lord has shown me how I can.

The Lord has shown me how I can.

Invocation by Kati Gibson ~

Our kind and loving Heavenly Father,

We come to Thee with thankful hearts to celebrate the life of a special wife, mother, grandmother, and friend, Mary Gibson. We are so thankful for the privilege we have had to know her and have her indelible mark left on our lives, which has changed us for the better. We are so thankful for this remarkable daughter of Zion, and the positive impact she has made in all of our lives. We are thankful for all of the many good memories that we have been able to create with her, and ask Thee to visit us with Thy spirit that we might be able to cherish these memories forever and know that our parting is just for a time and we are going to be together again. Please help us – give us comfort that we might be able to follow in her footsteps and draw closer unto Thee, and cherish each and every one of us the way she has shown us. We love Thee, Father, and we ask these blessings be upon us.

In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Obituary, read by Doug Gibson ~

Mary Jeannette Jewett Gibson died Saturday, January 4, 2020, in Taylorsville, Utah, at the age of 83. Mary was born on April 24th, 1936, in Los Angeles, California, the daughter of Fred Jewett and Mary Elizabeth Shields.

On April 23rd, 1953, Mary married Randolph Ray Gibson, in Long Beach, Calif. Their marriage was later solemnized in the St. George, Utah temple of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

The young couple settled in Long Beach, Calif., to raise a family. Mary and Ray raised seven children in Long Beach. Mary was a homemaker, Ray a firefighter for the city of Long Beach. Mary and her husband were faithful members of the LDS Church. Mary served in many church service callings. She was an accomplished genealogist, compiling family histories and often was invited to speak with organizations on the subject. She was a talented writer, who had poetry published.

In 1987, Mary and Ray retired and moved to the Salt Lake City area, where Mary remained the rest of her life. In later years she enjoyed spending time with her children, and particularly her grandchildren. She had a healthy interest in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, history and politics. She served as a county delegate for the Utah Republican Party.

Mary is survived by her husband, Randolph Ray, 88, her seven children, Carla (Lanny) Smith, Jane (Stuart) King, Nancy (Bart) Bowen, Carol (Steve) Hastings, Missy (Tom) Benedict, Doug (Kati) Gibson, and David (Sharon) Gibson. She is survived by 19 grandchildren and 12 great-grandchildren. She was preceded in death by grandson, Randolph Ray Gibson. She is survived by a half-brother, Frank Haviland. She was preceded in death by a half-brother, Ward Shields.

Life Sketch, written by Nancy Gibson Bowen

First, I would like to say that I am honored to give this Life Sketch for my mom. She is my hero. I aspire to be like her. And if she was here, she would say, “No, I want you to be better.” And, to that, I say, “Mom, I am trying.”

Mary Jeannette Jewett was born April 24, 1936, to Fred Jewett and Mary Elizabeth Shields. Early in her life Mary (Mom) was placed in foster care since no one was able to watch her. One foster care placement was with the Parkers. She called them Mother and Daddy Parker.

She loved Mother and Daddy Parker, and she grew up the first 5 years of her life there. With their family, she attended the Baptist church. She was taught at church and home how to pray and have faith in Jesus Christ. Long after she left the Parker’s home, she continued to live by the principles she was taught there. She told me that, when she prayed, she would imagine Jesus at his carpenter bench and she would wait until he looked up at her to start talking to him.

 After Mom left the first home there were more orphanages and many challenges mom had to deal with, living an uncertain life without parents capable of caring for her. She eventually ran away, taking a bus trip to St. George, Utah.

She went to a local motel and lied about her age so she might get a job as a maid. Brother and Sister Dewsnip, the owners, understood she was a child in peril and welcomed her as a guest. Sister Dewsnip was a local LDS Relief Society president. They became known as Grandpa and Grandma Dewsnip to us kids. The Dewsnips taught my mom the gospel in their home. She loved their home. They encouraged mom to talk about her home and family.

Before mom found her way to California, she visited relatives in Arkansas. She was hoping to stay with them, but she was not able to do so and was returned to the Los Angeles area. While there, though, she expressed her desire to become a Mormon.

At the Long Beach ward, she walked into the Bishop’s office and met BIshop Oleen Adams and told him she wanted to be baptized. Bishop Adams told her she needed to take the missionary lessons. She did, and joined the church at age 15. She skipped two years in school and was attending Poly High School and was on the swim team. She was planning to graduate at age 16.

 While swimming at a pool, which was across from the Navy base, her friend went across to watch a Navy baseball game. My mom was babysitting a child at the pool so she couldn’t go, but her friend brought a couple of sailors over to meet her. One of the sailors was Ray Gibson. He was very much attracted to her and asked her for her phone number. She would not give it to him. Her friend did give it to him.

I’m thankful her friend did give my dad her number or I may not be standing here. After a courtship, they made plans to get married. Her LDS ward gave her a wonderful wedding and reception. My dad left for Japan during the Korean War. His friends on the ship gave him a Book of Mormon, leading to his conversion.

The children of one of those friends, Elwin and Donna Jones, are here today. I am blessed to have them here. We have many good memories with them growing up and even called them ‘Aunt’ and ‘Uncle’, and their kids our ‘cousins.’ We love the Jones family!  

My Mother loved Jesus Christ, and she worked many years bringing thousands, even tens of thousands, of her family ancestors to receive the blessings of being on the covenant path on both sides of the veil! We love you mom, and we are so proud of your life and all you did for us. And we know you loved our dad with all your heart!

In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

The Lord is My Shepherd, violin and piano performed by Stuart and Jane King

Announcements by Dave Gibson ~

Alright, we’re half-way there … everyone hold it together!

Our next presenters will be Memories of Grandma given by her grandchildren; We will have a speaker, Gordon Mauss, who is an old bishop and long-time family friend – We are honored to have him here today; and then my sister Carla will give the introduction of mom’s great-grandchildren.

Memories of Grandma (Some of these were spoken, and some were written by the grandchildren to be included in this tribute. Those spoken are marked with an * below.) ~

Carla’s Children, memories shared by Alana Smith Robison

*This was a letter I wrote and read for Grams in the days before she died.

Dear Grandma,

I wanted to take the opportunity to thank you for the generosity and love I have learned from watching you and Papa. I know that you took care of me when I was very young, and my dad had been burned and was in the hospital. It must have been a great relief for my mom to know that you were always available to help when your family needed you. I also remember the time you came back east to stay with us for 10 days so my parents could take a vacation to Tahiti. As I look back over that experience I am struck with gratitude for your willingness to watch three rowdy children but also the realization that while that vacation was a much-needed break for my parents it was the kind of vacation you and Papa never had the opportunity to experience yourselves. You poured all of your resources into your family and religion. I don’t know if it felt like a sacrifice, but it was one.

There are so many other examples of the ways you gave to your family. I remember Doug living with you while he was delivering pizzas before he found a job where he could use his degree. I remember all the time and energy you both put into Kate and David after their parents divorced, and how you watched Jennie, Rachel, and Carrie almost full-time so their parents could work. I also remember you extending your home to Elisabeth when she had nowhere else to go and the many times you gave Kate a home when no one else would.

I rarely needed anything from you or Papa because of course, you gave me the greatest gift of all, my own Mom. She is an ever-present part of me and my children’s lives and the generosity she offers with her time and love reflects what I have seen from you and Papa towards your own family. Thank you so much for doing the best you could. You started this life without any examples of how to be a parent or raise a family, but I will do my best to show my children the same generosity and love I have learned from watching you and my mom.

Thank you for being an example for your children, grandchildren and, great-grandchildren. I love you.

Scott Smith: My happiest memories of Grandma are of the times I spent with her and Grandpa at their home in Old Farm. I remember watching out the car window on our many trips from Provo and eagerly looking for the Johanna’s Kitchen billboard, as it was the landmark that meant we were only minutes away. I remember my excitement over swimming, rough housing in the basement, and feeding ducks at the pond. Grandma would be there to greet us with hugs and kisses. She showed a great depth of caring for me, my siblings, and my cousins, which I did not fully understand at the time.

Looking back through the eyes of an adult, I know that she loved having us with her, but now I see that our visits must have been something of a hassle at times and were accompanied by a good deal of preparation to make sure we would be safe, fed, and entertained. Having kept a careful eye on children at a pool, gone shopping to prepare large meals, and broke up childish squabbles, my heart is filled with gratitude for her all her work on our behalf. Grandma did us all a great service by looking after us and making a home where we could gather as a family.

In remembrance of her, I offer this short poem by an unknown author:

As our journey together ends

We will be at your side through

The long night vigil.

We will walk with you through

The valley of lengthening shadows

Loving and comforting you.

But as your journey takes a turn

On the road we've never traveled

We must let you go.

Thank you for leaving us with memories to

Mend our broken hearts,

Joy comes in the morning

Because now you are home.

While we honor all our mothers with words of love and praise,

While we tell about their goodness and their kind and loving ways,

We should also think of Grandma, she's a mother too, you see....

For she mothered my dear mother, as my mother mother’d me.

Jane’s Children, memories shared by Elisabeth King Wallace

*I’m Elisabeth, or “Lilybet” as pet named by Grams. I am representing my sister, Abigail, also known as “Abilene,” my brother, Jon, otherwise known as “Jon-a-fun,” and my youngest brother, Michael, or “Mikey.”

Grams always told me that I did not need to rush into marriage. She believed that women should get an education and have life experiences when they are young because it is easier to do before settling into family life. She made me promise from a young age I would not to marry before I turned 25. In fact, when she lay in bed beginning hospice last week, I told her I just got engaged and she gave me a hard look and asked, “how old are you?” Which I’ve decided to take as a compliment

I followed her admonition and was married to my late husband at 27. I’m a student today. All five of her daughters have college degrees. That is the kind of direct influence her good values had on her children and grandchildren. That is not to say that she was any less proud of the accomplishments of her family who married earlier or pursued other avenues to achieve success. She just wanted her children and grandchildren to have opportunities that she had not had time for as a wife and mother of 17 years old. But she had no regrets about how her life turned out. She loved her family and valued her commitment to them and to my Papa above all else. This November when Abi was visiting Grams she said that all Grams wanted to do was watch the old family videos with her. As Abi listened to her talk about the videos, she could tell how much Grams loved and lived for her family. Abi also said that numerous times throughout watching them Grams couldn’t help but comment on how dark Papa’s hair used to be.

Grams was a very loving person. She didn’t reserve her love for just her own children and grandchildren, but rather, opened her home and her heart to many young people. My cousins on my Dad’s side have warm and vivid memories of the attention she gave to them and the meals she invited their families over for. They call her “Aunt Mary” to this day. My friends and all my dogs were always welcome in her home growing up. She never gave me a hard time about my first pet, a very nervous dog, peeing on the floor. She didn’t mind and would make some cute remark about it, an approach I found novel as a child because my parents had no sense of humor about pet incontinence at that time. Grams had a way of infusing our lives with humor. From her hollow threats to smack our fannies to her benign episodes of road rage in which she called fellow drivers, “Grandpappy-pity-poos” or “Big Turkeys,” she put a smile on our faces.

I was fortunate to have the opportunity to remind her of all the great times she made possible for us as kids the last time I saw her; How much we all looked forward to our visits to her and Papa and how my brother Mikey particularly appreciated her pound cake, or as he called it “Grams cake.” We all have so many wonderful memories of getting to have sleepovers at Gram’s house. Abi always thought it was awesome that we were allowed to watch cable cartoons and eat treats there. She used to pillage Gram’s purse for the Altoids that were nearly always in it. My brother, “Jonafun,” told me recently that the annual family Thanksgiving dinners she would host at Old Farm are amongst his most vivid memories of childhood.

From the beginning of my life to the end of hers, Grams told me that I was smart, capable, and kind. Some of her last words whispered to me were, “You are beautiful and kind. You are good.” She spoke of Abi in the same breath in the same way. We always felt her love for us. Love and family are her legacy. She extended love and hospitality to many in her life in a way I will continue to aspire to emulate.

Carol’s Children, memories shared by Carrie Hastings Bless

My name is Carrie Bless, I am the daughter of Carol.

My grandma never failed to show her love for my siblings and me. She used to squeeze our hands three times, and that meant I love you – one squeeze for each word. She gave freely and expected nothing in return. That’s just the kind of person she was. Her home was a paradise. I can remember countless hours she spent watching us at the pool, or cooking delicious meals or treats for us. She was devoted to her family, even her ancestors. She loved genealogy. My grandmother has made me a better student, friend, wife, and mother. I recognize the impact of her influence in the molding of who I have become. She will be greatly missed.

Carrie’s written tribute: I'll never forget waking up to the smell of waffles and the clattering sound of dishes at my grandma's house. I remember my clothes smelling like her home after I'd return from spending a weekend there. I love that smell. I wish I could recreate it. She would gently spank our freshly bathed bottoms while saying, "Macka, macka, macka..." She listened to bluegrass gospel in the car and called bad drivers "turkeys." She always gave away hugs and kisses. She showed us all the love and kindness that she hadn't been so lucky to receive in her childhood. She loved being part of a family. I remember when Rachel and I would fight. I'm not exaggerating when I say that we've shed blood on more than one occasion. My grandma would tell me, "She's your sister. She will be your best friend." She was right. Grandma used to squeeze our hands three times, which meant, "I love you." One squeeze for each word. I remember the way she spoke about my grandpa. Their relationship set my bar high. I wanted nothing less than what they have. I'm going to miss her so much. However, I'm glad she's now free from her aches and pains. Until I see her again, I have plenty of fond memories to keep her close.

I would like to invite my brother, David, up. He isn’t on the program, but was able to get an early release from Afghanistan to be with us here today.

*David Hastings: It was a long trip, I got here last night at about midnight. I was born in California, I lived not too long from my grandma’s house. I don’t have a lot of memories of my house, but I have so many, countless, of her house. I remember everything about it. I spent a lot of time there. I moved to Utah, I don’t even remember when – in my early years – and then she moved out there after that. I remember my Grandma’s house was always a place where I felt loved. A safe place. She always had her pantry stocked with Rice Krispie treats and Gushers fruit snacks, and Creamies popsicles in the basement. I remember her singing so loud to her gospel music in the car like no one else was there, but we were all there. She was always going to family history – it was just part of her thing. She was going to the Family History Library to do whatever it was she did there - I never knew. But she was always just so selfless. She was serving without ever asking for anything in return. Not too long ago, I read a talk by Gordon B. Hinckley about his wife. He said that, “My children and I were at her bedside as she slipped peacefully into eternity.” I don’t remember who it was, I think it was Missy who told me that, Grandma woke up and everyone was there, and she said that it was the happiest moment of her life. It brings me a lot of comfort to know where she is.

David’s written tribute: I was born in Long Beach and lived near Grandma in my early years. I have one memory of my house in Long Beach, but I have countless memories of grandma’s house. I remember its layout and backyard. After moving to Utah, I still spent a lot of time at her house. I remember raiding the pantry for Gushers fruit snacks and the freezer for Creamies popsicles. I remember making forts with all the blankets she kept under the stairs. Her singing so loud to gospel music in the car.

Of all the memories, I remember the feeling of her home. Throughout all the tough times, her house brought peace and stability. There, I felt safe and loved. She always loved us and was willing to do anything for us. I also remember her going to the family history library so often. She was so selfless in service and everything she did.

I recently read a talk by Gordon B. Hinckley called The Women in Our Lives. He recounted the passing of his wife of 67 years as, “My children and I were at her bedside as she slipped peacefully into eternity.” I am glad she was surrounded by loved ones in her last days. I look forward to the day when I can see her again.

Missy’s Children, memories shared by Jennie Simon Benedict

My name is Simon, I’m Missy’s son.

*When I was growing up, I spent quite a bit of time over at my grandma's house, whether it be for a sleepover with cousins, family gatherings, or simply because my parents were busy with one thing or another. I have fond memories of going to grandma's; tearing apart the storage closet under the stairs for the hundredth time and turning it into our little 'Clubhouse', playing for hours on end. When I was done, I knew there would always be Grandma upstairs with a smile, a delicious home-cooked meal, and maybe a story or two about my mom and her childhood. Memories of all the time I spent with her are highlights of my childhood I won't ever forget. I'll always remember the walks her and I would take around the duck pond by her home to feed the ducks, all the trips to the swimming pool. I'll always remember and learn from her kindness, her generosity, and the love and dedication she had for my grandpa all these years. She had such a positive impact on so many lives, and she will be missed. I love you, Grandma.

Doug’s Children, memories shared by Joe Gibson

*My name is Joseph Gibson, and I will be representing my sisters, Mary and Sophie, as well as myself. We are the children of Doug.

Grandma has had a big heart, and she has had a great love for all of her grandchildren. I have always felt special when I was with her. She has been my greatest fan, which she showed by attending events my sisters and I were involved in. I remember she and grandpa came to Ogden to watch me box at Foley’s gym. This memory is not unmarred by pain, as Grandpa had an accident tripping on some stairs and Grandma really did not enjoy seeing me get hit in the ring. She was fiercely protective of her family. My sister Mary had a similar experience when she had her black belt test and Grandma wanted to beat up one of her senseis for the physical exertion she had to endure. My sister Sophie excelled at playing the Scottish snare drum in her high school bagpipe corps, and she found inspiration from grandma’s extensive genealogical research in our Scottish ancestry. Grandma would always cheer us on, and I have always felt like a champion in her eyes. I will forever cherish the memories of her dedicated support.

Mary Gibson Morris: My favorite memory of her is when she and Grandpa came to support me at my black belt test several years ago. They were truly in my corner, and at one point, Grandpa had to physically restrain her before she could jump into the fighting of the exam on my behalf. She has always had a fierce loyalty to her family and would ensure that everyone who entered her presence felt her pure love.

I've also appreciated the advice she gave me over the course of the years, especially regarding the importance of education and self-sufficiency. I think a lot of my drive to achieve the most I can comes from her insistence that I fight for myself. She left quite the legacy for her progeny to try to live up to, and I hope that I can become half the person she was.

Sophie Gibson: My grandma has been a huge role model and supporter of me my whole life. She was devoted to providing a solid and happy home for her entire family. Some of my best and earliest memories involve her: waffles with whip cream and strawberries, walks around the duck pond by her place, extended family sleepovers in the basement. I remember one night when I was younger, I was talking a mile a minute all through dinner and we made a bet that I would get a cent for every minute I could go without talking. I made eighteen cents that day and I was so proud of the self-restraint that took and so was she! Living an hour away, she and my grandpa would always come to support our different events as often as they could. Their love and devotion to family and to each other has inspired my goals for the future.

I am so thankful for the foundation she helped me build in my life with the wisdom she shared from her own life and from the love and patience she had, and I feel proud to share a middle name with her (Jeannette.) I love you Grandma

Dave’s Children, memories shared by Sarah Gibson

*I’m Sarah, and I’m going to be sharing some memories on behalf of myself and my brother, Brian. We are Dave’s kids, Mary’s youngest son.

When we were children, we spent a lot of time with grandma. In fact, when I was really little, I spent nearly every day with her while my parents were at work. Some of our fondest and earliest memories were made with her. She absolutely adored her grandchildren, and it was no secret. I loved the time I spent with her because she always made me feel like whatever we were doing together was her absolute favorite thing. Brian and I loved building forts out of pillows and blankets in the closet under the stairs, sleepovers with our cousins on the futon mattress on the basement floor, and waking up to the smell of her famous buttermilk waffles. We’d sit on the floor of the office and eat them while she sat at the computer playing solitaire and grandpa watched baseball with no sound, only the closed captioning. We took countless walks to the pond to feed the ducks, made trips to the pool, and hunted for snails in her rose garden. Once we found a few and tried to make them a habitat in an old shoe box that we hid in the basement, but she found us out. Grandma’s house was a magical place with endless Rice Krispies and Gushers in the pantry, a stockpile of Creamies in the freezer, and everything a kid could ever need. Forgot your swimming suit? Grandma had a box of them in the basement (along with goggles, noodles, rings, and every other pool toy you could imagine). Wanted to play doctor? Grandma had crutches in the garage, old syringes, and even a blood pressure cuff to use. The chest in the basement had every kind of toy imaginable, all the best movies were on the shelf, and she had the biggest box of crayons ready for when you got an urge to color.

As I’ve grown older and learned more about my grandma’s life, she’s become an incredible inspiration to me. Despite the trials she faced, she always kept her head held high. She taught me perhaps the most valuable lesson one could learn, which is that with faith, and love, and a fighting spirit, you can accomplish anything you set your mind to.

Grandma, thank you for the memories that we'll cherish for the rest of our lives. Thank you for the amazing example you set for us, and thank you for making each and every one of us feel treasured. Thank you for showing us what true love looks like. A marriage like yours and grandpa’s is what our parents found, and we hope to someday find ourselves. Thank you for your unapologetic, spit-fiery spirit, and for teaching me I could be who and whatever I wanted, and that I never needed to apologize for that. Thank you for being you.

Life just doesn’t feel right without you, and I’m not sure it ever will. But we know that, no matter what the future holds, you’ll still be with us through it all as our very own guardian angel, just like you’ve always been. We love you, grandma.

Bishop Gordon Mauss’ remarks ~

Ray, look what you’ve started – you and Mary. As I counted the numbers of children and grandchildren, I came up with about 40. Does that sound about right? And, that’s just the beginning. You’re going to have descendants and posterity as numerous as the sands of the sea and the stars of the heavens.

What a great occasion this is. I’ve loved hearing the sweet expressions and memories from the children and grandchildren today and feel deeply honored that Mary would want me to speak at her funeral.

We’ve had some occasions when we didn’t always agree when I was her bishop, but I think that she’s forgiven me and I hope that she feels the great love that our family has for her family.

I’m not her only former bishop. Bishop James Wright is here today, who was her Bishop in the Lakewood Second Ward is here today, and Bishop Harold Peterson, who was her Bishop in the Long Beach Eleventh Ward. These are great men, and I have much appreciation and love for them.

Funerals are a lovely, happy, sad, occasion. But I don’t think we should be too sad. I don’t think Mary is sad. I think she is very, very happy. I think she is looking down, if I know Mary, and listening in on what is taking place today at this service. I love what the Lord said in the Doctrine & Covenants, section 42, verses 45 and 46: “Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die, and it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them.” How grateful we are for the gospel plan, that teaches us who we are, and why we’re here, and what we can become, because we know we have the hope and the knowledge and testimony that life goes on beyond this mortal existence.

The veil is very thin at funerals and at the birth of a child. I feel Mary’s presence here today, and I hope you do as well.

Barbara, my wife, and I first met the Gibson family when we moved to Long Beach over 50 years ago. They were a godsend to us, as Mary was a mentor to Barbara as a young mother. Our relatives were many miles away, and Mary and Ray took us under their wings and helped us understand how to be parents.

Carla, Jane, Nancy, Carol, and Missy were our babysitters for our sons, and Doug and David were their big brothers. Our boys idolized Ray as a firefighter, and they wished their daddy was like him. Mary was a second mom to our boys, and she was a devoted wife and mom, and was a fierce defender of her family, who are now the jewels in her crown.

One of the reasons we liked Ray so much is because he loved baseball. Ray and Mary met at a baseball game, right Ray? And, our family has always been a big baseball family and I loved going to the ward softball games and watching Ray play. I don’t know how many of you have read Ray’s life story. If you haven’t, be sure and do so! He shared a copy with me recently. His life story was edited and collected by his daughter, Nancy, but there is an interesting observation in there about his wife, Mary. I’d like to just quote Ray.

“I am very fortunate to have Mary for my wife. I have mentioned earlier that it was divine intervention that brought us together. Mary has instilled in our children a great desire for education. She did not have the opportunity to get a college education because we were married when she was 16 years old, and she was barely 18 when our first child was born. During the next 11 years, we had six more. She was very busy raising them and did an excellent job. She did go to Long Beach City College when Carla and Jane were going there, but only took a couple of classes each semester.”

Remember that, Jane? Carla?

Ray goes on to say, “Mary was very intelligent and has an above-average IQ.” I think you underestimated that, Ray. I think Mary’s IQ was very, very, high.

“And, she is an avid reader.” That may be one of the reasons she has such a high IQ. “There are not many books that she has not read.

She was a very gregarious person. She loved to talk to people. She is comfortable with anyone and will start conversations with a total stranger, such as at the checkout line at the market. I marvel at the great love she has for me. As I said before, I am very fortunate to have her for my wife. We have been very happy and have a great family.”

Well, where is Mary now? Well, I think she’s here today, but what will she be doing as her life continues?

Alma said, in chapter 40:

“Now, concerning the state of the soul between death and the resurrection, behold it has been made known unto me by an angel that the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, are taken home to that God who gave them life. And then, shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous, are received into a state of happiness, which is called Paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care and sorrow.”

Unless we misunderstand, I don’t think that means we are going to be given a harp and a cloud to go float on until we are resurrected. The Lord makes it plenty clear in other parts of the scripture that ‘to rest’ does not mean we are sleeping. It’s to be in His presence. And, I’m sure that Mary is going to be very busy, actively involved in the salvation of her family on the other side of the veil, just as she was on this side of the veil.

Think of her as being on a mission. And, Ray, and the rest of the family, she will probably also be preparing a glorious mansion for her family on the heavenly corner of Chatwin and Wardlow Streets.

Mary was a remarkable woman – an elect lady of the Lord. She loved the Lord and was an amazing mother and wife, but just as much an amazing person. When we think of what she overcame as a child, and what she has become as a lady, is a remarkable, remarkable accomplishment. Those of you who are her family members, look around at each other. Can you imagine a young girl, 15 years of age, getting on a bus in Long Beach after putting her finger on a map to find out where to go on the bus, ending up in Saint George, and being taken in by a wonderful family? You know the rest of the story. You ARE the rest of the story. And, I’m sure that she has high hopes for all of the rest of her family.

I like the words of President Spencer W. Kimball about this life:

“We knew before we were born that we were coming to the earth for bodies and experience and that we would have joys and sorrows, ease and pain, comforts and hardships, health and sickness, successes and disappointments, and we knew also that after a period of life we would die.” It’s part of the plan.

“We accepted all these eventualities with a glad heart, eager to accept both the favorable and unfavorable. We eagerly accepted the chance to come earthward even though it might be for only a day,” as it was for young Randolph Ray, “or a year.

Perhaps we were not so much concerned whether we should die of disease, of accident, or of senility. We were willing to take life as it came and as we might organize and control it, and this without murmur, complaint, or unreasonable demands.”

As I mentioned, I recently read Ray’s life story. I learned that he was baptized in the font of the mission home in Tokyo, Japan, while my father was presiding over that mission and I was a 9-year-old boy. I might have even attended your baptism, Ray! That is very possible. I share Ray’s belief that his marriage to Mary was brought about by divine intervention, for I feel the same way about my eternal companion, Barbara. I’m sure that he would agree with me that, whatever good has come into our lives, is due in large measure to the influence of our wonderful wives.

God Bless Mary Gibson, her husband Ray, and her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and may we be reunited together forever, in her presence, in the House of the Lord.

It is my prayer and testimony, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Introduction of Great-Grandchildren by Carla Gibson Smith ~

Previous speakers have mentioned how much Mary loved and treasured her children and her grandchildren, and I can attest she had a very special place in her heart for her great grandchildren. I would like the great-grandchildren and their mothers to come forward, and their mothers will introduce them.

·        Alana introduced Norea and Blake.

·        Emily introduced Oliver and Margot.

·        Felicia introduced Lizzy, Amber, and Paige.

·        Rachel introduced Caleb and Riley.

·        Carrie introduced baby Eli.

Announcements by Carla Gibson Smith ~

My parents lived at Legacy at Taylorsville, and we would like to have their branch president, President Robert Stanley give a few closing remarks; then we will have the first verse of God Be With You ‘til We Meet Again; and then Sharon Foster Gibson will give the benediction.

Closing Remarks by President Robert Stanley ~

I would, first off, like to apologize to all of you. My map took me down the road about a quarter-of-a-mile, and there isn’t a funeral home there. And so, I drove back and forth and around, and finally drove into a neighborhood. And, there was a Hearst, from this funeral home. They were just walking into the chapel of the church. So, I waited until the people cleared out and went in to take at the program. It was a gentleman named Stanley’s funeral, so I knew that wasn’t where I was supposed to be. So, the folks that were there told me where their building was, and that’s how I got here.

I look forward to having opportunities to talk about my friends who I love. Mary Gibson is one of my friends. She is an elect daughter of God. I enjoyed talking to her and Ray. They are such a fun couple who love and adore each other and treat each other with love and respect. They always had a fun story to tell me, and I enjoyed talking to Ray. I think my voice is such that he could hear me some of the time because he would answer the right question when I asked. And, I enjoyed my visits with them. I know it is going to be hard for him now that his sweet, dear wife is gone. Mary is with us today in spirit. She is here enjoying this service and I think she would scold me for being late. I’m sure she has enjoyed the good things being said about her.

Many years ago, I was in the temple doing baptisms with the youth of the ward. One of the workers told me this story. He said, “I see spirits. They come here and sit below the font until their work is done, then they leave. I was asked to talk at my great-uncle’s funeral. He was the last child of a big family to pass on. While I was sitting on the stand, he and his brothers and sisters came in and took a row in the front of the room. They enjoyed the service. Later we went to the cemetery. They were there also. When things were taken care of there, they walked off with their newly departed brother, arm in arm.”

Mary’s life story is incredible how she overcame a troubled start, and then was introduced to the gospel of Jesus Christ—embracing it wholeheartedly. She has become a gracious mother, wife, friend, and teacher. She told me that the bishop would bring unwanted and/or troubled children to her and Ray to help them for a time and to see a good, God-fearing home. The first time she and Ray met is another fun story.

The plan of salvation, or “Gods plan of happiness,” teaches that we lived as spirits before we came to earth. We are here to learn, to get a body, to be tested and tried, and prepare to live with God in the next life. Mary and Ray will be able to be together for eternity as husband and wife. They have fulfilled the covenants that are required to be together. They will be there. We, who are here, need to do our parts to be able to be with them for eternity.

And, before I close, I’d like to add one more thing. Our Father in heaven loves Ray and Mary for their untiring work, and for the things that they did to help others, and for the things that Ray continues to do to help others. He is a good man. He is an important member of our branch, and Mary was also.

I leave you with these words, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.   

Closing Prayer, delivered by Sharon Gibson

My name is Sharon, and I am married to the youngest son, Dave.

You’ve heard a lot today from people about how Mary is with us in the room today. She was also with my little family in the second row that I love so much at dinner last night. Neither my husband nor I felt like cooking, so we went out to eat, and ordered dessert at the end. The server said, “I just have to tell you about our dessert special tonight. The first one is Almond Pound Cake”, and we knew that was mom. Will you pray with me?

Heavenly Father,

We humbly bow our heads before you in thanks for sharing a life with us.

Each person in this room, and thousands of others, were personally touched by the woman we are here to honor. Whether we called her our wife, mom, grandma, great-grandmother, aunt, or friend, Mary Gibson was unforgettable and irreplaceable, and we are all grateful for the time we had with her and the impact she had on our lives.

Lord, we thank you today for allowing us to come to know Mary, for the inspiration, example, and love she showed each of us, for the joy she found in the Church she loved so much, for the service she provided to the community, for her unshakable faith in the bonds of family, and for the memories of this special woman that we will carry with us forever.

Our lives were enhanced by our interactions with her.

Lord, we pray today for comfort, direction, and peace.

Comfort for the family as they find a new normal; and comfort for Mary as she transitions from this life to the next.

Direction for those who have been left behind, so that we might honor her by living the lives she taught us to live; and direction for Ray and Mary so that they may find each other in their eternity.

And Peace for us all in knowing that, even as we say goodbye, the path before us will still hold joy, laughter, and love.

Russell M. Nelson said, “We can’t fully appreciate joyful reunions later without tearful separations now.” Although we are tearful, we look forward to the time when we are reunited with Mary, in whatever form our hearts take comfort. May her spirit continue to bless us in this life and beyond.

In the name of Jesus Christ, I pray. Amen.

Dedication of the Grave, by Doug Gibson

      Dear Heavenly Father,

I dedicate this grave by the authority of the Melchizedek Priesthood. I dedicate and consecrate this burial plot to be the resting spot for the body of Mary Jeannette Jewett Gibson.

We are gathered here to say goodbye and let the body have a place to rest in, but we know that mom resides as a spirit and is doing wonderful work, even now. We are grateful that we all had a chance to be here as a family to give her the appropriate goodbye. I thank Thee, God, for having this warm, wonderful spirit today. We know that this is, in part, because mom is here with us. Our lives will go on and we will continue to be influenced and inspired by the example of my mother, grandmother, and wife. We dedicate this grave to the Holy Spirit knowing that we will, one day, be together again.

We say this in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.