Preparations

She sits.

Staring into the mirror she thinks about the day. All morning and afternoon was filled with anticipation and the gala that night was enchanting. She's sure that the memory of this evening will grow sweeter with time.

Even now, in her mind she can see her reflection. Her hair carefully arranged atop her head. The beautiful earrings gently decorating her image. The creamy color placed so gently on her eyes and the full red of her lips. He hadn't exaggerated when he told her that she was stunning, the eyes of all those present seemed to linger a bit longer as she passed. Even the hostess seemed jealous at how much her presence radiated at the event.

If the wishes of young hearts come true, this certainly was hers. And now, at the end of it all here she sits. Staring and remembering. A heavy sigh leaves her mouth.

Slowly she reaches for her brush.

She places the soft bristles into her hair and begins to comb out her tresses. With each pass, she thinks about how nice it felt to be in his arms. If only he could be here now. Would that the brush were his fingers, making gentle waves through each strand. Her silken threads flowing past the smooth strength that was there in his hands as they danced.

Even now, she could remember as he leaned in close during the waltz and told her once more how lovely she looked. If he were here, between passes, he might lean in once more. His warm breath lightly tickling the stray hairs about her ears as he whispers his passion for her.

As she looks up from combing out her hair, she sees her hands. Her delicate fingers still tingling with the electricity caused by his touch. Even more romantic had been the way that he brought the back of her hand to his lips and lightly brushed them there in greeting. Had it been anyone else, that old fashioned greeting might have seemed out of place, but tonight, perfectly charming.

And to think, those same hands had guided her about the dance floor. His hands and arms became extensions of his will, indicating the direction and step she needed to take. There seemed to be no fear to be had there with him leading. 

Was she under his power there on the floor?

No. She remembered how with the merest glance, he had known when she wished to leave the ballroom floor. It was if he was reading her mind, because every moment she seemed about ready to make a suggestion, he was already performing the needed task. It truly was her evening.

Catching her mind wandering as she brushes her hair, she snaps back to her preparations. She has already cleared away the pigments from her face and eyes. Her dress has been carefully arrange back into the closet. Will she ever have the chance to wear it again? She certainly hopes this to be the case.

Her eyes have grown heavy now. With great care, she removes the first of the soft lenses from her pupils. If only those contacts could have captured the imagery from this evening. The soft candle glow at the table, the gay colors that adorned the room. It was all so perfect, it would be a tragedy for time to soften the memory.

Looking at the mirror with the other eye, she notices the color of her eyes and reflects on how dreamily his eyes stared into her own. Once more, she longs to have him here. She could lose herself in his eyes. They were smiling all night long and on more than one occasion, she was certain they flashed with passion and desire.

Placing the last of her evening routine into order, she rises from her seat in front of the mirror. She smiles one last time at the beautiful woman reflected there and slowly turns. One last time, her imagination takes flight and she imagines turning into his arms as he sweeps her off her feet. Placing her gently into bed with a kiss.

The great romance

Time has failed to dim those memories. I still feel every moment, every thrill. There was something so real about that very instant. 

Even after three decades, placing my experience under the microscope of thought, I find the time  before and after fading into blurriness. Yet that razor thin slice of day remains crisp.

Without the burden of responsibility and our own insecurities we celebrated life. Each day was a new adventure and we lusted after all that it brought. Our desire spilled over into our free time and on the playground we explored what little we knew.

Certain things were just given, we didn't question the reasons why. There wasn't any need to do so. In our case, we knew that the boys were supposed to chase the girls.

Was it siblings that put us up to exploring their own fears? Maybe exposure to similar events from media or our observance of the world about. It really didn't matter, it felt more like an instinct, something we knew we had to do.

So I chased and you ran.

I'm sure you could easily outstripped my own pace, yet all too often I found you a hairs breath outside my reach. It must have carried with it as much thrill for you as I experienced when I could almost stretch my arms to gather you in, because it happened frequently.

Finally darting in and about the playground, I managed to catch you. Surely you must have heard my heart leap within my chest. The flood of victory and triumph coursed unrestrained through my small frame.

On wings, together we ducked into the woods as the others looked on. In our innocence and joy, such a hiding place was only necessary to remove ourselves from the jeers of our classmates and the prying eyes of the teacher. Yet our fellows knew, just as we both did what was to come next.

Breathless and now out of site, I nervously placed my arms around your shoulders. Drawing you in, missing were any thoughts of the course of action. Unlike our awkward teenage years, thoughts of looks, bad breath, noses, even eyes, were absent from the situation. It was enough that I liked you and that I had caught you during the game.

Oh what marvelous times, it was simply enough to "like" you. Never in the decades that passed would I feel that emotional freedom. It was loving without the burdens now associated with "love". If asked, I know I would have denied any deeper emotional connection, saying such things were "yucky" but it was the most pure love that I felt for you in that moment. I never wanted to chase another.

So here, with my love, in this wooded spot upon the playground, I found myself holding you. Leaning toward your mouth. You closed your eyes. I don't suppose you remember that, but I do. And in the tenderest way, my lips pressed gently against your own.

There was no extended contact. No impassioned embrace where I held you to me. The instant lingered long enough for me to know you gently kissed me back.

I tasted your lips, still finding the hint of strawberry gloss. I could detect the scent of your shampoo from golden hair. And even the soft brush of your clothing against my hands was sensed.

As we broke away, we stepped back to the reality with giggles of delight. After all, we just kissed and were sure to hear about it for the rest of the afternoon. With the smiling effervescence of youth, you turned on you heel and dashed away.

Then I knew once again the chase was on.

Family

I was sent a video by my mom the other day. It was a "Eulogy" for a deceased husband and it was quite moving. The production value of the piece was outstanding, so I watched all the way to the end to find out more about who made it (hey, sometimes you get lucky and they include credits).

Well the only thing it said at the end was the same as my title for this post. "Family" but it did include a link. http://thinkfamily.sg

So I went to the site not sure what to expect and found that it was the Singapore page dedicated to improving the family unit. I was so delighted to see that they put together such a neat site for what I feel is a spectacular cause. See, to me, family should be the place that we feel loved and safe from the world. I like the idea of promoting togetherness and learning how to better serve one another in our families.

Not to say that people in bad relationships shouldn't leave when necessary and that every family is perfect. See there's this adage about throwing rocks when your home is made of windows. As a single dad, I don't have any right to tell anyone how to be a perfect family, since I wasn't able to hold my own as it were.

I'm just saying that in a world that seems to say because ideals are hard to come by we shouldn't bother, I think we need to embrace the loftiest goals. In my struggle to be the best, I might just wind up really good and that wouldn't be so bad either.

Thoughts from General Conference

First things first. I finally found a way of making sure I stay awake! I have to have my knitting with me and I can put in all the requisite hours of sitting still without nodding off.

Before you judge me too harshly, please understand I get plenty of sleep, it's just sitting sedentary for even an hour is hard for me to do. It's genetic, go to any ward where you find my father or uncles and you'll find them with their head on their chest asleep.

I like to hear the conference talks too. I usually grab copies and put them on my iTunes and iPod, so it's not like I'm not interested, it's just I can't sit still and listen for that long. Why can I sit through a 3 hour movie without difficulty? I don't know! I just feel horrible that it happens.

Actually to tell the truth, the thing that I worry most about is not the falling asleep, it's that I might start to snore and disturb those around me. I guess I should add that to the list of reasons that I really need a wife. That way she can sit next to me and periodically jab me in the ribs with her adorable elbow.

Anyway, there were some fantastic talks. Things that I really enjoyed hearing and things I'd like to implement in my own life. I was glad I was able to be there for all the sessions.

You know those people who can recite who said what and when during conference? I'm not one of those people. You're lucky if I can remember who spoke during any particular session. What I tend to take away are specific thoughts and feelings. I might remember themes or particular stories that stood out.

With the right prompts, I can remember a lot of detail, but just sitting here I probably couldn't tell you much of anyones talk. So don't expect a detailed synopsis of what was said or what it might mean.

What I did take away was the feeling that I need to think about the priesthood more in my daily life. I need to think about how what I do each day relates to my standing as a holder of God's priesthood.

We had a wonderful refresher course on pride during the priesthood session. Once again, I find myself asking what do I need to do in my life to reduce pride and selfishness. What do I need to change in myself to keep from lifting myself above others and follow the humble Savior.

I'm rededicating myself to scripture study with my family. At least one verse at a time we're going to get through the scriptures together. What I'm going to do is to let everyone mark my scriptures with our progress. We really need to get back into the habit of reading together and this will surely help. Couple that with tomorrow being the first time in a while when the children will be with me for FHE and the timing couldn't be better.

My personal scripture study is also going to continue, with greater emphasis on pondering what I read. Thinking of how it relates to me, how I can put it into practice. Those are things that I can do each and every day.

I also want to continue to work on gratitude and feeling thankful for all the things that I have. I really am blessed in my life. I need to make sure that credit is properly given.

It's now my bedtime, so I'll stop here for now. I'm sure there will be other things that I may add, or write about in another post, but this will do for now.

Miles per quart

So a few days ago, I'm headed to work when this riced out Honda gets onto the freeway. Normally I can ignore the little red car with the coffee can muffler, however this one had gone out of his way to make sure you noticed. And believe me, I've never noticed a rig like this one before!

Before I get too far into things, I should mention that I've driven my share of older vehicles. I'm aware that as they age things begin to happen. However I also know that certain things only happen because of abuse or severe neglect.

This number was spewing forth clouds of smoke. I don't mean that it was giving out a large puff every time the accelerator was pressed either. Remember the video game "Spy Hunter" when you would pick up the smokescreen? Clouds of thick grey smoke would cover the entire lane. Visibility in the murk was reduced it was so dense.

Now while I didn't spin wildly out of control, I can say that the breathability of the air did reduce me to a choking cough. I don't have AC in my van and so drive with my windows down as much as weather permits. I wouldn't be overly surprised to find out the particulate matter I was exposed to by this mobile nightmare will eventually lead to a terminal case of lung cancer.

Even worse for me, I was stuck, unable to pass or even switch lanes for over a mile! Thus was my innocent day destroyed by some ignoramus. I say so because it was inescapable for anyone else to not be aware of the vehicular hazard they were driving and fail to have it repaired.

My only consolation was to tell myself that one of two things are going to take place. Either the nut behind the wheel was able to successfully get his doomed Japanese wheels to a mechanic, or the engine seized leaving him hopelessly stranded! I mean really, I can understand burning a bit of oil in an older engine, but when the leak is so bad that you can measure your mileage in quarts of oil per mile, you've gone beyond reasonable.

Because you asked

Softly, so that my footsteps make no sound, I would approach. Gently, my hands and arms would encircle your waist, drawing you closer to me. Feeling like the luckiest man in the world, my mind would reel like an apprentice seaman weathering his first hurricane. 

Standing there, like two perfectly matched puzzle pieces, I'd lean my head towards the nape of your neck. With gentle caresses, my lips would find the curve there. Between kisses, I'd whisper the love that fills my heart.

Pulse racing, I'd work my way around your gentle form. At every moment struggling to maintain the intimacy created by two people madly in love.

Finding your face, my hands would be drawn impulsively toward your skin. With the lightest brush of fingertips, I'd make electric contact with your visage. Sweeping back along your cheek to find the silken strands of your hair.

The pleasure of the fabric of you hair flowing past my hands once again draws me in to you. The pools of your eyes have me drowning, not for air, but for the feeling of your mouth pressed against my own. 

Unable to stop, I move toward the soft lips. Time has stopped for everyone else, only we two are aware of any movement as we are brought into contact. There, we touch causing waves of power to flow through my being. It's as if I could command the universe at this moment.

We remain, arms closed about each other. Unaware of the world and it's cares, we continue, lips and mouths occasionally parting. Sharing together the pleasure of the moment with eyes softly shut.

After lifetimes pass in this position, we draw apart. Eyes locked in love. My heart overflowing with emotion. Eternities seem to crash into nothingness now that it's over, my desperation to again approach the infinite overwhelms my soul and once again, I have to kiss your lips and face. Showering you in the passion of my heart.

Scary things

Everyone has their fears. Today I was asked what was the scariest thing I had ever done. That prompted some good introspection. There have been lots of times when I've been scared, but only a few that didn't carry with them the adrenaline rush.

I can remember the trepidation that I felt the first time I did the brakes on my own car, questioning if I managed to get them bled properly and if the car would safely stop. I knew the fear of being alone in a rough neighborhood of a third world country. While I've not been personally assaulted, I have been in places where guns were pointed at my friends, and even been threatened in a dark parking lot.

Yet all of those just seem to pale in comparison. The absolute scariest for me is asking a woman out on a date. It sounds pretty dumb, but I am terrified of rejection or mockery. So taking that risk to ask someone, who I barely know, to spend time with me in the hope of getting to know her better is the most frightening peril I've experienced.

I'm sure that now that I'm single again, I'm going to have to fight this dragon many times. Alas, I don't know of a method other than cinch up the saddle and take it on at a full gallop. There is however consolation in that the effort is usually quick and even failure represents only some scorched pride.

Why it's so challenging escapes me. I'm unaware of any reason in my past for such sensitivity to this particular situation. Maybe someday I'll find out, in the meantime, it will always be the scariest thing for me to do.