Farewell Provo

Tiny baby boys everywhere! Hawk, Nixon and Remy (who is not so tiny anymore, hence his distance from these fragile two)

Cousin Dash and Remy love each other.
I make Nixon let me hold him as much as I can. Sweetie baby!
Remy, among many others in this household, loves his aunty Sara. He even got babysat by her for a whole Saturday.

I think I got discouraged from my blog for a little while because the only comments I got were from 'anonymous', which is a euphemism for crappy spam. I know this is pathetic, but I actually opened the email saying I got a comment from anonymous every time, just in case it was a real human with something to say. This is not a cry for comments, but I'd be lying if I said, 'what do I care if no one reads this, I write it only for myself.' I actually don't. I hope people read it on occasion, and that we are better friends because our minds have co-mingled for a few moments. Really, I love tangible, pen and paper journal writing, so I see this as more of a community writing space. Duh, I just defined a blog in case you weren't aware of what they are. I just packed up a huge box of journals from over the years. Which brings me to my real point: aside from the four journals from my mission and the one journal that I took to El Salvador and fell in love with one foreign boy, while still loving one at home, all these journals have been written in this little valley I've called home for nearly 26 years. Provo has raised me. I want to launch here into a list that will likely make me emotional, but I'm not going to do that just yet. My heart does ache a bit, in two ways: one with delight at starting anew, and one with nostalgia at leaving a place and people whom I love so dearly. Oh my goodness, don't even get me started at the ways I love Provo. Suffice it to say that on Saturday, there was a park full of people listening to poetry, setting up a portable art gallery and eating good local food, partly because they were excited about the project (billboard poetry, that is), but I'm sure partly because they were supporting me in one of my odd endeavors, and I think that means more.

So, I'm not going to say farewell Provo just now. And I will be back, oh, I will be back, but I am also trying to remember something that my mission president told me many years ago. I was still a missionary, nearing the end of my mission in Uruguay and thinking that I had reached the pinnacle of all happiness and accomplishment and was not looking forward to coming home. My mission president talked in a zone conference about the importance of our role and attitude when we got back to real life. He reminded us that our mission was not serving much of anyone if we continued to live in the past and spend our time wishing we were a missionary again instead of embracing what was ahead. He said that we would exemplify our happiness as a missionary by being happy at home, in a new situation. I'm trying to remember that. I think it will be hard for awhile, to not feel safe nestled to these mountains and everything this valley contains for me, but I also want my next journey to be painted with the sweetness and joy that I've known here, and for the past 26 years. I don't want to mull around in nostalgia for too long, because I don't think that is what we are supposed to do. I feel like there is a lot more I could say right now, but I also realize that it is a danger to blog late at night, so I'll stop and just post some photos. Hey, if people are reading this, call me! I only have a week left in Provo, and Remy and I want to hang out.