4 Weeks in 4 Paragraphs

I loved the remark in General Conference by Elder Eyring when he said: "The problem in saying "Someday" is that it means "Not this day". I have meant to get back to this since the first of the month. Procrastination is definitely something I need to improve on.

Just checking . . .Yes, it's been almost 4 weeks since I last posted. I have had good intentions, just not alot of productive time on the computer. "Let's start at the very beginning --- A very good place to start". My niece, Clydene, who is very creative, crafty, and can literally turn a disaster into a keepsake sent me this link and I received permission from her to forward to you so that you could read the story. Grandpa Wayne's Mother, Ina, had an old upright piano, that was her pride and joy. She learned to play as a young girl from a lady who lived up the hill from them in Morgan. Mother couldn't read music very well, but I'm told she could sit down and play any tune you asked her to by ear; and she had a beautiful singing voice, which she was called upon to use at many church occasions. Wayne's younger sis, Aunt DiAnne inherited her ear for music, and the old piano. A few years back, DiAnne and Glen returned home from a trip down to St. George, and found that there had been a major flood inside their home from a broken water line. The water seeped through the upper floor into the basement where the piano was; Clydene has written the rest of the story on this link: http://www.robomargo.com/music.html I wanted to share this with all of you. They didn't publish the poem that is in the lid on the chest, so I'm including here:

This Old Trunk

Don’t be fooled by this old trunk, I’m sure you could not guess,
It lived a very different life quite some time ago and yet....
It used to be a big brown piano, many years ago,
Played by a beautiful mother who loved her children so.

As fate would have it, her parting came all too soon,
Giving up a mother’s dream, …never to play another tune.
She didn’t want to leave that day, but a special call came,
Leaving behind her children, things would never be the same.

Over the years the memory of her music would ring through and through,
In the home of her second daughter whose talents matched her mother’s too.
As three generations ran their fingers over the black and white keys,
Playing the simple songs,....she surely would have been pleased.

Fate took its toll on the old brown piano, no more could it sing,
No more could it play the music that was fit for a king.
What could you do with an old piano whose life had come to an end?
The heart of this old piano would soon be on the mend.

Given to your youngest daughter to fix and appreciate it’s worth,
A grand-daughter who knew Grandma, before she came to earth.
A gentleman with many talents and skills would help renew,
And now it is a memory box filled with none too few,.....

The photographs of loved ones and mementos placed inside,
To remind us of “Her” music that fate could not and would not hide.
The talents of this special Angel, the one you called Mother,
Will always and forever be in the hearts of all those who knew her.

Written for Mom - Mother’s Day 5/2004

Next on the agenda is Easter. We attended the little girls on two Easter Egg hunts -- one at the city park and the second that Curt and Brittiny hosted at our home on Sunday. It was fun to watch them scavenging the yard for eggs filled with toys and candy.

This past week has been a sad one as my sister's husband passed away after falling at his home last Saturday. They have 4 daughters, 15 grandchildren, and 40 great-grandchildren who all contributed in some way to add displays, memorabilia, slide presentations, and letters of love and pictures. The funeral was beautiful, and what a blessing we have in knowing that we will all be together again as FAMILY.