Ode to My Grandma George

So this blog post will be dedicated to one of the all time greatest people in my life, my grandmother. She was not rich, nor beautiful in a worldly sense when I knew her. She lived in poverty all of her life. She had a mouth like a sailor at times. She was also the most loving person I ever knew, and she is one of the people who probably kept me sane in a very turbulent childhood.
Vera Aileen Batchelor was one of 19 children (I think) When her father died there were still 13 children left at home. She got married at an early age to my Grandpa, John Edward George. She had 5 children, my dad being her third boy. She worked almost all of her life. When I first spent a lot of time with her she worked at the turkey plant that was close to her house. She did what she had to in order to keep her house together. When my dad died, she would take me on Friday nights to give my mom a night off. We would snuggle in her big chair and she would tell me stories and recite poetry. She told me about how her mother would read books while the whole neighborhood would gather to hear her. She made me feel loved at all times, even when I was naughty. She didn't let me off for being naughty, she was firm about what was right and what was wrong, but the love came through just the same. She was like me, an early riser, and she let me invade her quiet time. She liked to make things. She made the dress that I was sealed to my family in. She made little dolls, doll clothes, fridge magnets, she sewed, she quilted, she embroidered and she was an excellent cook. She was always giving me things. I couldn't walk out of her house without some treasure she had given me.
This week I have been canning, and this is something that reminds me of my grandma. She was an avid canner, and she would make the most amazing chili sauce. I have tried to recreate it, but I am still not there yet. I miss her. It's funny, because we have some family that didn't want my mother to take us to Grandma's so much. They drank, (not Grandma but everyone else on that side seemed to) they smoked over there (again not Grandma) and they cussed. They didn't go to church. But my mother understood that we needed all the love we could get and I am proud that she was always good to my grandmother. When my brother Dan got married, Grandma took out her endowments so she could see him get married in the temple. My mother was honored to be her escort. One day, when I see her again, I hope to be able to express to her what she means to me, but somehow, with her loving heart I am sure she already knows.

Epiphany

So I had an epiphany today. (I love that word btw). I was watching 27 Dresses in the coldness of my room. Alone. Without kids. Envy me if you dare. I decided that I like that movie and I don't like that movie for the same darn reason. I am that girl! You know the one that can't say no. That is never upset, only tired. Who lets her wants come last. Who doesn't speak up. Well, I don't know if that is going to change too much, but I know that being a martyr is unhealthy, and I have been working on it lately but not hard enough. I had to do something really unpleasant today. I had to make some people grow up. It was not fun for them and not fun for me. We have been trying to get these people to be responsible for themselves for a long long time. They haven't felt the need to be responsible, even though their bad choices were affecting us more than them. They are selfish people and I am sorry for that. But I realized something after watching that movie. It is not my fault if certain people who shall remain nameless are irresponsible. They weren't taught to be irresponsible by me. And if swearing at me makes them feel big and tough and right, that is just a statement on how sad their lives will be until they grow up. Guess what kiddos, you aren't the only fish in the pond. The other thing I realized is that I need to speak up when I know something is wrong and dangerous. I want my voice on the record next time, even if it still goes forward despite my protests. I need to be grown up enough to safeguard my little family no matter what. And believe me, next time, I WILL.

Missionary mail and Youth Conference and other musings

Ted has been having a good week. This was the first week that he was out of training and officially out on the floor. His mentor, Elder Smith, had him shadow him to show him how to do some of the computer stuff that they need to do. The older folks there are great at the genealogy portion of the program but the young guys do the work on the website and stuff. Other than the Arizona(too hot)weather, Ted has been quite cheerful about the longer hours. I am really proud of him.
The other boys spent 3 days at youth conference. I have to say that I was nervous about Daniel going. He turned 14 on Wednesday, just in time to go. This was his first experience with church dances. He had a great time. He did just fine. Stephen had a good time too, and they had great spiritual experiences. But I still have mixed feelings about church dances. They are so hard on some of the kids. Stephen said he had a friend there that didn't dance at all because he had been turned down by 13 different girls. Now, unless he is a proven abuser, I feel like there is no call for that. I remember being around 12 or 13, and going to a mandatory school dance in Jr. High. I remember one boy who was very socially awkward. Maybe it's because my home is inhabited by the socially awkward, I am more sensitive to this phenomena. Maybe it is because I was somewhat social awkward myself, and still have that sad little wallflower lurking inside. Anyhow, I remember this boy trying so desperately to get girls to dance with him. Not just any girls, either, but the popular ones. He would try dragging them to the floor. No one would dance with him. They probably felt very justified. He was kind of creepy, and extremely embarrassing to them by the way he tried to yank them out to dance. But on the other hand, it would have taken only 5 minutes (at the most) of their time to show kindness to one of Heavenly Father's children. I also remember at that same dance there was a certain "usher" Ushers in my Jr. High were the personification of cool. They had to be in 9th grade (the oldest). To me they were all good looking. One of them asked me to dance. I will NEVER FORGET IT. If at some point in a future here unknown he needed someone to stand up for his character, I WOULD STAND FOR HIM. He didn't have to dance with a geeky wallflower. He could have asked any of the popular girls and they would have been glad to dance with him. He took 5 minutes out of his life to show kindness to an awkward girl.
So I guess, in my rambling way, my question of the day is this: Do we have the right to reject one of Heavenly Father's children just to be one of the cool kids? Or are the cool kids really those who can show kindness and not worry about how cool they appear?