The Apple Doesn't Fall Too Far From the Tree

From Seattle, WA, 2:00pm

My family is the most important thing to me. They are my top priority. There are a lot of us and we are loud and completely in each other's lives but I wouldn't have it any other way. Knowing everything about everyone makes for a fantastic support system despite how annoying it is sometimes. And this isn't to say that none of us know how to keep a secret- my sisters and brother keep information of mine that my parents will never know (sorry mom and dad!). At the same time my parents know things that my siblings don't (sorry guys!). One of the many things we all have in common though, no matter what information we have or don't have is that we always want the best for each other. There has never been a moment of bad relations between my siblings (as adults that is- I'm sure we did our fair share of bickering as kids), there has never been a moment when we didn't know that we could turn to anyone of our siblings for a listening ear, a word of support, or a piece of wisdom that was much needed. I have often wondered if our strong family unity is more common than not or if other families are as close as mine is. Despite stories of siblings who haven't talked to each other for twenty years or parents who disowned a child because of a slip-up, I remain optimistic that more families are like mine than not.

What makes my family unique however, is that they're mine. My siblings are mine and only mine.  I am one of only four lucky kids who were raised by my parents. We are part of a small culture that belongs to only us. And though we will share this culture through interactions with our friends, church members, and over time with our own children and posterity it remains uniquely ours. We created it. 

But the six of us didn't entirely create it on our own, did we? For starters, we have The Family: A Proclamation to the World that gives an outline of what our families are to strive to be. All of these principles that I was taught as a child were incorporated into our own family culture. Education, service, music, and unconditional love were all present in our home and as such became inseparably intertwined into what our family stands for. Sunday dinners with aunts, uncles, and cousins were regular occurrences all growing up and still happen. Requested rides to the airport in the wee hours of the morning isn't enough to induce rolling eyes and last minute babysitting phone calls are (usually) happily taken.

Besides the Proclamation to the World, we have a great family legacy. Last week I called my 87 year old (paternal) grandfather for a chat. With all of this new-found time I have, I'm trying to make strides in our family history. My grandfather had wonderful stories of dating my grandmother and what it was like being a newly married young man to a beautiful woman who was a few years his senior (and how cool he felt that she would date a sophomore in college while she was a senior). He told me some WWII stories and how pretty my grandmother was in her WAVES uniform. 

Grandpa Thompson and my sisters

The story I liked the best though was not a story at all. It was my 87 year old grandfather baring his testimony to me over the phone from across the state. He told me that he knows repentance is real and that families can be together forever if we are sealed in the Temple and keep our covenants. He told me that he knows that living the gospel of Jesus Christ makes us happy and creates a sense of satisfaction and love in our lives. He told me that he knows all of these things and that he hopes that I know them too and hopes that I will never depart from these principles. Reflecting on this the rest of the week I realized that I want this to be part of my own future family culture. I want my children to know that they come from a family that loves them and one that has strong roots in the gospel because in the end, though my testimony does not ride on that of my grandfathers or anyone's for that matter, it definitely contributes to mine. Mine is stronger because I know he has one and have seen his in action. Anyone who knows my grandfather loves him and has some story about him of him serving them or sending them a note in the mail or helping them with a calling. And this is where I hope the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. As much as I want my own family culture that is solely mine, either in the family I was raised in or my own future family it never will be because there are so many other influences, good influences. Not only do I want my children and posterity to think my husband and I are as great as I think my grandfather is or my parents are or my future husband's parents are, I want them to know about the people who came before them who have influenced the shape of our family. I want them to realize that it's our own culture yes, but it doesn't stop at only those who are alive but extends generations back into the pre-existence and will continue to extend forward. 

So as I had all of this on my mind last week I got to end my week with a family day on Saturday. Friday night I got to pick up my sister Whitney from the airport to stay the night and Saturday my dad came down to hang out with baby Lincoln. As is our family culture, we listened to music and reminisced about growing up. There was actually a moment when all of us were belting songs that were sang to us when we were little and looking up different renditions of them. (Like these: The Unicorn Song, 1814 Battle of New Orleans) We picked out what songs we wanted our phones to play as ringtones when we called each other and tried them out to see how they sounded. So there we were as per usual, singing old songs and sharing new ones recently discovered. It was almost an out of body experience that I hope I will never forget because in the end, this is my family and my family culture and I hope this apple doesn't (me) and future apples (my future children) won't fall too far from the tree. 

P.S. Here are some of our new favorite songs:

Ride On/Right On, Phosphorescent

Old Pine, Ben Howard

Stay With Me, NO

Skinny Love, Birdy

Dust to Dust, Civil Wars

Artificial Light, Typhoon

P.S.S Here are pictures from General Conference Weekend in Salt Lake City with my friends as well as more pictures from Charleston. You can see (some of) the completed projects I was working on- the candle holders and the mirror. 

Southern Living

From Charleston, WV, 4:00am

After a year and a half of not writing- let me catch you up. I've been debating whether or not to even try to catch up or to just start new but I think the last year and a half deserves some recognition so here it goes...

1. I'm dating the most fantastic of humans. His name is Mika and he's a surgical resident in Charleston, WV. We've been dating since September of 2012 when we met in Seattle while he was there on a rotation. I think he's great and I cannot comprehend how I could ever love him more than I do now. 

Our May, 2013 vacation to Charleston, SC

2. I graduated from college at UW in Seattle. Woof!

3. I no longer live with my sister Whitney and I often miss how much fun we had together (see post titled 'Gazpacho, a Box, and a Dead Fish Named Benjerman'). 

4. I am now an aunt- the little guy, Lincoln Owen is my new obsession. I get to live with my sister and brother-in-law and take care of Baby Abe until next summer after which I will be joining Mika in Charleston.

Done.

Now onto Southern Living. 

West Virginia Capitol building grounds.

I have visited Charleston, West Virginia several times now. My first was the last week of June after Mika and I went to London and Paris for a week. He had moved the day before he came to Seattle for my graduation and we left for Europe the day after my graduation. When we got here (literally only a few hours before he had to be at the hospital for his first day of work) everything he owned was in his new basement, his car, or his friend, Dustin's refrigerator. I had just a ball of a time moving boxes full of medical texts from his basement to the top floor in 90 degree heat with 1,000,000% humidity. (Turns out we had A/C the entire time but I didn't know it...) Despite this (miserable and) tiring start, I'm pretty sure I was smiling almost the entire time and the more I explored Charleston the more it grew on me. 

London, England 2013

I've lived in Washington state my entire life. I've known nothing else. I've traveled some but rarely to the east coast or south. I grew up in a small town but had parents who were sure to "culture" my siblings and I with Mariner's games, trips to the 'Nutcracker' at the PNB, and continual service to those around us. I have lived in and loved Seattle now for over four years and consider myself a true Seattleite. I call Seattle home. What I knew of West Virginia though is that a) it's beautiful b) it's one of the most unhealthy populations- also one of the oldest populations, and c) it's rural. I was hesitant to say the least. I was nervous and once I knew Mika and I were serious I prayed and prayed that I would learn to love this new place that I would eventually call my home.  I imagined that my Anthropology degree would come in handy to understand the people here. My Anthropology of Globalization focus was identity and immigration and I envisioned myself using my educational knowledge to relate to people with whom I thought I would have nothing in common. If that didn't work, I thought empathizing would be the next best thing.

I have come to learn that I don't need an Anthropology degree or empathy to relate to West Virginians though. Even my small town upbringing hasn't come in as handy as I thought it would. The time that I have spent here has changed my entire outlook on not only West Virginia and the people here, but on all people. It has reminded me of something that I had forgotten, that people need people. It really is as simple as that. Every persons life is as complicated as my own and every person is just trying to make it through life as best as they can with the hand they were dealt. And I have learned that West Virginians are really good at this. For being from truly rural towns, they are more willing to accept outsiders (like myself) than I expected. They know more about the world and life than I ever will. They believe in God and have no doubt that He is great. So, this is my new home (or it will be shortly- though by the amount of shopping I've done for the house Mika probably wonders if I've already moved in). And I am excited to learn from all that it has to offer. As I was in Home Goods yesterday (or was it the day before? I told you I've been doing quite a bit of shopping) the thought crossed my mind that it really is a smoother transition if we embrace the ride. The change is coming no matter what and it's much more enjoyable if we put a smile on our face and a pep in our step. 

I was especially ashamed at my doubt in and my fear of West Virginia when I remembered my favorite scripture, 2 Nephi 5:27, "And it came to pass that we lived after the manner of happiness". The Nephites did not just miraculously become happy. They made a point to be so. They chose happiness, they didn't happen upon it. Happiness, or joy is something that we live "after", we strive for. We are never done perfecting our ability to be happy. We have to deliberately seek after it. I know this to be true. The more we show the Lord that we are willing to be happy and striving to be content (yet not to the point of complacency), the more peace and joy we receive. He has given us literally every tool that we need to become perfectly happy and it is our responsibility to utilize those tools to do so. 

In my case, I think one of those tools is West Virginia. Despite the helicopters landing at the hospital (our backyard) at 12am or the trains passing at 2am, it is wonderful here. I cannot get in an elevator without a cheery "Good morning ma'am". I always feel like I can ask someone for directions. The ladies at the market clue me in on which stall has the best mums that day. The list goes on. It is impossible to be unhappy in a place like Charleston, WV. 

Let me share a quick experience from yesterday- one other than shopping at Home Goods. This story involves me at GoodWill (continue reading to see what projects I'm currently working on). I was at the most rural/sketchy/small GoodWill I have ever seen in my entire life. Literally. This goodwill was probably the size of our house- so no so big. But, while I was there hunting for glass containers there was a preacher there. He was talking loudly to himself but at the same time to the entire store. He would say something and then say "Can I get an Amen?" and then literally half of the people in the store (there were only about ten people total including the employees) would say "Amen"! Isn't that so neat? It was out of a movie! We don't talk to other people while shopping in Seattle. But this preacher was just chatting it up with everyone, and people knew him, and a lady asked him to pray for her cat to stop escaping and so he did, and it was just wonderful. I couldn't help but grin ear to ear and he noticed and started telling everyone what a beautiful big smile I had and then someone yelled "Amen" and I felt awesome. That's why it's impossible to be unhappy here. People need people and people here know that. And they do something about it. 

Not only are the people here wonderful, the sights beautiful (though the trees haven't completely changed quite yet), and the weather nice (sunny and 75, anyone?), but I get to do what I'm really good at. Take care of a household with OCD-like precision. 

I said it. I love being a (pre)wifey. I love being able to support Mika while he works 80+ hours a week anyway I can. I've got shopping for the house down to a science (while remaining within my budget- ish). I'm perfecting my cleaning routine (though sometimes it may not seem like it), I finally have that new washer and dryer figured out, and "it's two thirty" is becoming the sentence that gets me out of bed to make breakfast. And I (not so) secretly love it. I love having dinner ready when he gets home (I'm getting really good at recipes that you can simmer for a few hours because sometimes I don't know when that will be). I love getting to repaint cool old mirrors that I found while antiqueing or getting to buy hoards of varying glass vases, candle holders, and hurricanes for different DIY projects (like making mercury glass, or these cute little Autumn branch candle holders, or to fill with faux Autumn leaves for a nice centerpiece.) I love getting to pray for him as he goes off to M&M. I love making pumpkin ice cream and apple cider slushies with him in the evenings. Whether it's West Virginia itself or just a 'coincidental' conglomeration of good things that happen to be here doesn't matter. It's good here, and I like it.