Ear Training

Just in case all the crazy busyness that comes for our family at the end of the school year wasn't quite hard enough, I made it harder by getting sick. I caught an ugly virus last week and it turned into pneumonia. I spent three days in the hospital and came home yesterday. I am very tired and weak from this illness, but I plan to get stronger every day. I am grateful to my family and friends who helped me and prayed for me. It is so nice to be home.

This is something I wrote years ago, but I reread it today and discovered I still need this reminder. 

I recently began teaching a friend of mine, together with her young son, to play the guitar. One morning, my friend called  to ask a few questions. She said that she and her son had been practicing faithfully the chords I had taught them but that her son wouldn't sing along while he played. She wanted him to develop a good musical ear, and she was concerned that he wouldn't be able to hear the way the chords accompanied the melody if he wasn't hearing the melody as he played.

As we talked, I asked her if she was able to foresee the chord changes when she played a song — in other words, was she able to tell, by playing and careful listening, when she should change chords and what chord to change to. She said that she was beginning to, and that it had been exciting as she began to realize that she could anticipate what she should do. When she acted on what she thought her musical ear was telling her to do, and changed chords, she knew right away if she was right. If she wasn't, the chord clashed with the melody, and she would have to back up a bit and try again.

I told her that it was all a part of “ear training”: learning to recognize the way the chords sound and what to do with them. I smiled as I remembered my own awkward beginning attempts at playing the guitar by ear. With careful listening and practice it gets easier and clearer, and as you gain confidence in your ability to correctly hear the changes, it can become very rewarding and fulfilling.

I went on with my busy and rather challenging day and forgot our conversation. Late that night, I lay in bed, struggling with a decision. I had determined to do what the Lord wanted me to do, whatever that was. I felt that I was straining to hear the voice of the Spirit, wondering, as I had many times before, which of the voices in my head was His.

At last, I decided that I had to choose the course that seemed best and act on it. If I was right, my choice would be confirmed. In a flash, I recalled the phone conversation with my friend. I realized that this was all part of “spiritual ear training” – learning to recognize His voice and developing the faith to follow it.  Although I am no great expert at playing the guitar by ear, I realized that my spiritual ear was even less well-developed.

I resolved that night that I would keep my mind open and tuned to the things of the Spirit.  I would follow a prompting, if it seemed to be a good prompting, even if I wasn’t completely sure of its origin. Some of the greatest blessings and experiences of my life, I recalled, had come when I had. 

I decided that I would be extra careful about keeping my mind and environment clean from influences that would detract from the Spirit. Just as superfluous noise or music in the background when I am playing the guitar would prevent me from correctly hearing the chords, so could inappropriate or worldly messages crowd my mind and make it difficult for me to hear the still, small voice.

In order to play any song properly, I must keep my guitar in tune. Because changes in the guitar’s pitch can occur gradually, I might not notice them unless I check it regularly against another source, like a piano, that I know to be in tune. In the same way, I must be sure that I am keeping my life in tune with the Lord’s will for me through careful and regular prayer, scripture study, and temple attendance.

I also determined that I would keep a regular written record of my experiences as I tried to more completely follow the Holy Ghost, so that I could more fully understand and appreciate the workings of the Spirit in my life.

I am so grateful for the gift of the Holy Ghost in my life. I know that as I work to develop and trust my spiritual ear, the song I play with my life can be a beautiful one, a song of service and devotion to my Savior and my Heavenly Father.

Twenty-five and Counting

During the past week, I have learned (relearned, really) to crochet and made three crocheted scrubbies to give as gifts; traveled several hours to visit my in-laws for Mother's Day; watched my son Adam run in the "Wellsville Mile"; woke up very early to attend the "Breakfast of Champions," where Elisabeth was honored for her academic achievements; went to the local junior high school to see my son Joseph perform the role of The Baker in the musical Into the Woods; made and served three different pies to the cast of a local Shakespeare Company (which includes my daughter Elisabeth); become the grandmother of a baby rabbit named Pancake; gone to the Cancer Center to receive a treatment; laughed hard as I watched my sons Danny and Ben perform in the comedy improv troupe Horsing Around; attended Joseph's guitar concert; got all dressed up and attended the high school academy awards ceremony (during which Danny and Ben received many awards); and prepared gifts and a cake for my daughter Hannah's birthday.

Somewhere in there, my husband and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary.

Wes and I were married on May 13th, 1988, in the Salt Lake City LDS Temple. We were poor college students, and looking back I can see that we were a bit foolish and naive. But we were deeply in love.

And we still are.


There is no question that I married the right man at the right time and in the right place. We have had our ups and downs: we've struggled with parenting, finances, and my health. Neither of us is perfect, but we make a great team.


This is for you, Wes:

To My Husband, Who is Well
So long we've been together, love,
My faithful Valentine,
That now at night I lie beside you
And your heart beats with mine.

And it seems to me it's your pure heart
That pumps blood through my veins,
And I believe it's your strong will
That bears my deepest pains.

And when I stretch my fingers out
To lay upon your chest,
I feel quite sure that your clear lungs
Fill my weak lungs with breath.

So here's what I have learned, my sweet,
In my struggle to survive,
Your strength overcomes my weakness,
And your love keeps me alive.

The doctors say I won't last long
But there's something they don't know:
As long as you are here beside me
I'll never, ever go.

Another Look at Motherhood

Eight years ago, a local grocery store held a Mother's Day essay contest. I wrote a short essay and entered it in the contest. I'm pretty sure I was the only one to enter. (I'm not being self-deprecating here. I really think I was the only one. They also did a Mother's Day coloring contest, and that got a lot of entries. But essays, not so much).

Anyway, I won the first prize, which was – get this –  a free haircut. Yep, that's the headline: "Bald Woman Wins Haircut!" Hooray!

Here's the essay. Happy Mother's Day to all. 

When I was a little girl, I looked to the future and saw all the things I might be.  I wanted to be a princess, or a movie star. At the very least, I thought I would grow up to be Barbie. Later, I wanted to be an artist or a writer. I also thought I would be a good advertising executive, even though all I knew about the job was what I’d learned by watching reruns of Bewitched.

What did happen was that I grew up, went to college, got married and started putting my husband through school.  Before long, I had a baby, then another, and another, and before I knew it, I was the mother of seven young children. I loved my children, but I wondered, Is this all there is for me?  I had wanted so much more. I dreamed of the day when my children would be older, when I could do and be some of the things I wanted.

Then one day I got some startling news – I had an aggressive cancer.  Suddenly, the question was not how long I would have children at home but how long they would have me. Facing the fact that I really might not live long made everything that had once been ordinary seem like magic – a drawing from my four-year-old, listening to my daughter practice the violin, a two-year-old’s sticky kisses, the sound of laughter from a over-crowded trampoline. All the things that I had wanted to do, things that had seemed so exciting and important, were now overshadowed by what I finally knew I wanted more than anything else – to be the mother of these children, and if I were fortunate enough, the grandmother of these children’s children.

Armed with a new long-term goal – “I want to live long enough to be the world’s best grandmother” – I began my battle against cancer. My fight is not over, and may not be finished for a long time. But right now, it looks like I might be winning.

Living with cancer has taught me something I should have already known – that life is a precious commodity. There is never enough of it for all we want. I have not completely given up my dreams of doing some of the exciting things I have always wanted to do. (I have given up on ever being Barbie.)  But if time runs out before I do any of those other things, I will know that I have been more, and done more, than I ever thought I would. I have been a mother. I would not ask for more.

May the 4th

Every year on the fifth of May, we enjoy eating great Mexican food as we commemorate the Mexican Independence Day with our neighbors to the south.

But at our house, the day before Cinco de Mayo has some significance, too:

Elisabeth battles Superman!

Me with some of my friends at the cancer treatment center on Halloween

MAY THE FOURTH

BE WITH YOU

For Susan

My dear friend Susan Turley passed away last night, holding her beloved husband's hand. After years of chronic health problems, she finally left her frail body behind and now lives freely.

Her physical problems never slowed down her generous heart. When I was first diagnosed with cancer, she visited me, served me, and somehow, made me laugh. She sneaked into my house while I was at chemotherapy and adorned my home with seasonal decorations. She had a great talent for making things beautiful.

Her husband, her children, and her little grandchildren were her most precious jewels. Throughout her life, she loved them immensely and intensely. I know she still does.

I wrote this poem, with great love, in Susan's honor:

It will not be for men to say
Which breath shall be my last.
We know that there will be a day
When death is coming fast
And men will stand around my bed
And wait to say "She's gone, she's dead!
She's left behind her earthly ties –"
But you must not believe these lies.

I am not gone, I'm living still –
I always have, I always will.
I'm sealed to those I love the most
And that means I will yet stay close.
Though now you might not see me here, I promise:

I am very near.