My Three Sons

Recently I hosted an Aunt Lesley/Grandma Day for the boys in my family ages 6-14. That included Adam, Zachary, Derek, Jacob and Michael.

We ate pizza, bread sticks, candy and soda pop to our hearts (and stomachs) content while we watched an Indiana Jones movie. I think everyone enjoyed themselves... I know I did.

It has been a long while since a group of boys have hung out at my house. It's amazing how much you can forget... and how quickly you can be reminded.

Boys can sometimes be goofy, they laugh at the parts in the movie that they aren't supposed to and they are grossed out by the kissing scenes. They like to romp around and pretend fight, and find it to be very entertaining... and for some reason think that it entertains you as well. I recognize that even though times change and fads and styles come and go, boys will always be boys. The few hours spent with my grandsons and nephews that afternoon brought back a lot of memories of my own three sons that make me smile... and some that make me cry. Here are just a few:

I remember movie days. I couldn't count how many times my boys were entertained with "Peewee Herman's big adventure" or how many times I was called into the room to watch the scene with 'Large Marge'.

I remember when the first Nintendo game system came into our home. That was an exciting day. I actually got a little hooked on it myself late at night after they all went to bed... I had to nip that one in the bud.

I remember sending a son to scout camp early in the morning before the sun was out, "I can go by myself mom", he said, after my suggestion that I walk with him to the home where they were meeting. Reluctantly I sent him out the door; but seconds later I was following him in the dark, hiding behind trees and bushes until I saw him safely there... and all the time, wearing my fuzzy bathrobe.

I remember a son selling bubblegum to the neighbor kids for 10 cents apiece, or two for 25 cents... is it any surprise that he owns his own business now?

I remember the day I answered the telephone (long before caller ID) and a man at the other end of the phone asked, "is this Mrs. Leger?" When I informed him that it was, he lost all control and had a mini break-down on the other end of the line. He was the elementary school bus driver, and he called to inform me that my two boys were causing him some major distress while they were riding the bus to and from school each day. When the phone call ended I immediately went to the school and retrieved two boys from their classes. One of them was so happy to see me; his class was having a read-a-thon that day and surely Mom was bringing him some treats to enjoy while he read... NOT!! The three of us had a PMI (personal mom interview) in the foyer. For the rest of the week I escorted them to and from the bus stop, exchanging thumbs up and smiles with the bus driver indicating a successful bus ride. I never heard from the bus driver again.

On the other hand, I remember another bus driver who very nearly lost his freckles when he misjudged and mistreated one of my boys. Of course, rather than causing one (in this case the bus driver) to lose his freckles, it is better to have a discussion on what-did-we-learn-from-this-experience with your child, even when it was not the child's fault.

I remember being invited to BHS to make a special announcement over the intercom system for one of my sons. I also remember that if one my boys didn't get asked to a girls choice dance, I teasingly would say to them "do I need to go to that school and get on the intercom and say, 'what's wrong with you girls?'"

I also remember attending a choral concert at BHS where all of the choirs performed a final number together. The song was "In Heaven's Eyes" and the students were doing sign language as they were singing. My two sons were on opposite sides of the room, I remember my eyes roving from one side of the room to the other as I watched these two boys signing the beautiful message of this song. It brought tears to this Mom's eyes.

I remember ball games, recitals, plays, field trips, concerts, vacations, drivers ed, camping, mountain man rendezvous, cub scouts, fund raisers, cherry hill, golfing, birthday parties, stitches, surgeries, throwing up, earaches, tears....

I also remember that I never had to argue with a son about wearing a white shirt and a tie to church, I don't think I ever had to argue with a son about going to church, I remember mission calls, hugs from returning missionaries, young boys serving their sick little sister, priesthood ordinations, teenage boys who adored their little sister, report cards, graduations....

My boys are grown men now. They are husbands and fathers. They serve in church callings. They have careers. One can give me legal counsel, one sold my house for me, and one is my boss.

As much as I love these three boys with all of my heart....


... once in awhile; I wish that I could spend one more afternoon with these three boys.

Last 'First Day Of School'

Today was Caitlin's last 'first day of school' in the public school system.

Caitlin's first day of kindergarten in 1998

Caitlin's first day as a Senior in high school in 2010

This is my 27th consecutive 'first day of school' as a Mom. Shouldn't somebody send me flowers or bring me chocolates or something? After all... it's my last 'first day of school'.

What Is A Leger's Sandwich?

Starting next Monday, I will be the new manager at the Leger's Deli in NSL. Consequently, today we were training a new employee for the Sandy location (where I am currently manager).

My co-worker Melissa (who is replacing me in Sandy) was doing a great job in training the new gal. After an hour or so, the three of us were walking towards the office and I said to the newbie, "the most important thing to remember is, to make a Leger's sandwich the way a Leger's sandwich is supposed to be made."

As I walked into the office and the two women were still in the kitchen I heard the new lady say to Melissa, "what's a Leger sandwich?"

Silence.

Then Melissa's stunned reply, "ummm... it's what we make here."

So, just in case there are any questions out there about a Leger's sandwich... here it is....

"CATS" (cats aren't the only ones that get a second chance at life)

This is my daughter before the show, happy and excited for the evening ahead. Read on and find out the horrific way our evening ended.

Last Saturday Caitlin and I traveled to St. George to spend some mother/daughter time together enjoying some shopping and then the theatre at Tuacahn. We went to see the musical "Cats" which we both enjoyed very much.

After the show I tried to coax Caitlin to go up and meet the actors and have her picture taken with them as she did last year when we saw "Aida", but she declined. So consequently, we were in our car at 10:45 and headed back to St. George.

We were driving eastbound along the main road in Ivans with no cars in front of us, but the onslaught of cars coming from Tuacahn were gathering behind us. We were enjoying our conversation about the show when suddenly I noticed the headlights of a single car in the westbound lanes. There were no other vehicles on either side of the road between us and this single vehicle.

Just as I was pointing out to Caitlin that the car coming towards us was traveling at an excessive speed, the unthinkable happened right before our eyes. The car appeared to have missed a curve due to its speed and either ran into boulders or a wall dividing the road from the homes next to it, I'm not exactly sure what, but the next thing we saw was the car launching into the air and flipping multiple times as it emitted sparks everywhere.

It was surreal. At the point the vehicle launched, our car was directly opposite to it and Caitlin and I were both aware that we could be in immediate danger. It was like something out of a movie scene. Caitlin was sobbing and I was telling her to call 9-1-1 as I tried to decide the safest place that I could pull my car over. There were lots of cars coming behind me and the shoulder of the road was not really wide enough for me to safely park there. As I spoke to the operator, I pulled over for a few moments and was then able to pull into a gated community while I continued to give the operator information. We were advised to continue on to our destination. In a matter of moments several emergency vehicles passed us on the road.

I have tried to find out information about the accident for the past three days. Tonight Caitlin received a phone call from the St. George police officer who is over the case (remember the 9-1-1 call came from her phone). She directed him to me and he was able to give me the details about the accident that we didn't know. I was also asked to give a statement about what I witnessed.

The driver of the vehicle was drunk and it was determined that he was driving 74 mph. He was charged with reckless endangerment (just hearing those charges made me swoon, Caitlin and I would have been the most likely victims if he had steered his vehicle in the other direction) and DUI. He had only minor injuries for which we were glad (cats aren't the only ones that get a second chance at life). I'm happy that we found out the result, it was traumatizing to Caitlin and she really needed closure.

I am grateful for prayer. As I have mentioned on this blog before, I pray daily that my friends and family will have safety on the roads. But we all need to do our part too... while driving; don't talk on cell phones, don't text, don't speed, be alert at all times, and wear your seatbelt (the driver of this vehicle would not have survived if he hadn't worn his seatblet)... I love you all, mean it!!!

My Precious Little Green Card

It has been nearly 48 years since this green card was issued to me. Several years ago my Mother gave it to me to keep in my possession. She told me that it was very important and to never lose it or 'let it out of my hands'. Today it came in handy.

The last several months have been kind of busy for me, so it came as a surprise when a few days after my birthday I remembered that my drivers license needed to be renewed and was now... expired.

I knew that there were some new requirements for getting a drivers license; among some of the items needed were my birth certificate or a valid passport or naturalization papers or a valid unexpired permanent resident card... It occurred to me yesterday as I was planning my outing to the Driver's License Division (DLD), that my British birth certificate didn't suffice. I needed one of the other items mentioned.

I called the DLD to verify my concerns (no help at all), I called my Mother about my naturalization papers (I don't have any of my own; that's my next project... to get them), I called both of my Irish born brothers to see if they had experienced similar situations, they both have valid passports; I called my attorney son to see if he could find me a phone number for the Ogden Courthouse where my parents became citizens, when I made the phone call the 2nd District Court couldn't help me; but... Andy did give me some good advice concerning what could happen if I was caught driving with an expired license (thanks son).

My Mother called me back and suggested that I take my green card, it should qualify. I knew exactly where it was, in my cedar chest under two piles of boxes in the garage. I quickly retrieved it (well, not too quickly... two piles of boxes after all).

Mike came on his lunch hour and drove me to the DLD. Of course you know what I faced there, tons of people all waiting for their turns. I filled out the necessary forms and stood in a short line at the first desk. The young woman there was very robotic as I heard her say the same thing over and over to each person she helped. No smiles, no emotion. When it was my turn and I showed her my birth certificate she wanted to know what state it was from. Ummmm... the state of Belfast, Northern Ireland state (I didn't really say that). Once she realized that it was from another country she quickly informed me that I needed a valid passport. I showed her my green card but no, that wasn't good enough.

My frustration that I feared would come was building. I know these employees are not the ones who make the rules, and they deal with a lot of grumpy people, so they are usually prepared with the answers. When she informed me that it was the law I said to her, "well who made that law?" Yes, I really did say that. Ummmm.... her response, "the Federal Government." No smile, no emotion from DLD lady.

I was told that I could get a temporary license until I got my passport. She took my picture (ask to see my picture, it reflects the way I was feeling at the moment) and gave me a number, I still had to wait for my turn at one of the windows. As I sat there I felt frustration and a bit of anger. I had never in my life felt like a foreigner in my own country. It hurt a little. I felt tears coming to my eyes (oh great, now I was going to cry), but I quickly composed myself.

When my number was called and I went to the window I quickly produced all of the items that I had brought. During the time that I had been waiting I decided that my green card was a valid unexpired permanent resident card and I was going to 'play it'. When I showed it to the woman who was helping me she showed a little bit of interest, but then told me that it wasn't a particular form as was outlined on the instruction sheet. I quickly (and kindly... things go better for you if you are kind) explained to her that I was issued this card 48 years ago and the form that she wanted didn't even exist 48 years ago. I held my breath as she turned it over to another woman who went into a back office for several minutes. When she returned she proceeded to make a copy of my card, I took that as a good sign, and was elated and very relieved when I was told it qualified.

After my DLD eye exam and paying for my new license I went back to where Mike was waiting for me. The room was still crowded and there were several people waiting at the desk of the first woman, the one who refused my green card. We had to walk past her in order to leave the building and as I walked by her desk I kept glancing her way hoping to catch her eye, suddenly I could hear Mike's lowered voice behind me, "keep walking, keep walking." He knows me and I'm sure he was expecting to see my new license being waved in the air for her to see and possibly some statement about 'freckles' coming from my mouth. I seriously wasn't going to do that... at least I don't think so.

Memories from the "Days of '47" 2010

"You can accomplish anything that you are asked to do; if you replace fear with faith, trust in the arm of the Lord and not in the arm of flesh, prepare for, seek for, listen to, and act upon personal revelation; and when the bit comes to the bit... just "do it'."



I was completely overwhelmed when nearly a year ago Mike and I were called into the stake presidencies office and asked to build a float for the "Days of '47 parade". How could I do this monumental task? Why me? Those are just two of the questions I asked myself. But it didn't take long for me to realize that I had to do this... I just had to figure out how.

We were blessed with an amazing committee (many of whom are pictured in my previous post) who worked long and tirelessly on this project for many months. Richard Rowe (who drove the float in every parade), Mike, and Keith Maloy (all three in this photo) along with Kim McKean transported the float 'to and from' six times in the past week, three of those times were to SLC, Sandy, and back to WB in the wee hours of the morning (when I say wee I mean 3-4 am; wee).

I think that each member of the committee became attached to 'our float'. Mike named all of the kids. Here we are posing for a picture with 'Jim'. That is 'Hank' in the background, ever vigilant in pushing the handcart, and always with a smile on his face. You can't see 'Sally' in this picture, but she is there too, pushing at the back.

On Saturday July 24th I arrived (alone) at our staging area between 1st and 2nd south on West Temple, at 3:30 am. Our float (with the men previously mentioned) would not arrive for another hour (float transporting is time consuming). Once I established where our float would be, I settled myself on my blanket on the grass of the Salt Palace. I lay there and looked up at the stars in the night sky, it was beautiful and so peaceful. Although I could hear the quiet hum of voices as people were milling around the floats, I felt like I was all alone. I don't imagine that I will ever again be lying on the grass on West Temple at 3:30 am. It was an experience that I won't soon forget.

When the transport team arrived they quickly began putting the float together.

This is a man who has been up since 2:30 am and just returned from a 7:30 am meeting in front of the conference center where he received his official badge. Did you see him on TV? Twice last week!!

About 5:30 am more people began to arrive, including youth and children. Judging would begin at 6 am and any floats that had people on them or walking beside them needed their people to be in place for the full effect. Promptly at 6 am, small clusters of official looking people with clipboards began moving about the floats. At 7:45 winners began to be notified of their awards. There was no big gathering or announcement, members of the parade committee just came up to you and gave you your award. Shortly afterwards, a large banner with the name of the award on it arrived at the winning floats. The banner would precede the float in the parade so that everyone would see that it was an award winner. Mike and I and Keith were the only ones there when the religious float chairman came to us at our float and presented us with the 'Theme Award'. We were very happy, I was particularly happy when our banner arrived. You may remember a previous post when I mentioned that I didn't care too much about awards... it turns out that I did.

As our time to enter the parade drew near, Keith and I followed the float up West Temple to 1st south, it then turned east and went to State Street and then north to South Temple. Our float entered the parade on the corner of State Street and South Temple at 10:27 am. Seven hours after my arrival at the staging point.

It was an amazing moment seeing our float enter the "Days of '47" parade and hearing the announcer introduce it.

There are our cute little boy scouts (we only met hours earlier) Mike and Martin carrying our 'Theme Award' banner.

This was my last view of the float in the parade. After it disappeared from our sight, Keith and I walked the city blocks back to where our vehicles were parked. I then drove to Liberty Park where the parade would end. On the way there my emotions overcame me and I alternately wept and laughed. We did it! The float was completed. It was in the parade.

Eleven months ago I was overwhelmed with fear and anxiety as I faced a challenge that I wasn't sure I was capable of. Today I am overwhelmed with gratitude... gratitude for those pioneers whom we honor by participating in this parade. Gratitude for new friendships formed. Gratitude for those who were there just when we needed them. Gratitude for the tender mercies of the Lord. Gratitude for the knowledge I have of who was really in charge. I will never forget this experience... Onward and Upward.

A View From A Parade

Last night I took the opportunity to walk with our stake float through the Bountiful Handcart Days Parade. It was so fun seeing all of the people and how much they were enjoying the parade. There were people applauding and cheering for our float, calling out our names, congratulating us on a job well done... it was awesome. I decided that it would be fun to show the view that we parade participants get.

Brent, Mike (under Brent's arm), and Keith just before our turn to enter the parade.

Here we are; floating down Main Street. One of our tender mercies; we were right behind the bagpipes (Mike and I love hearing the bagpipes).

Walking past The David Group; it is TDG that offered us float making classes (which we attended), sold us lots of styrofoam and shimmery stuff, and gave us moral support.

My parents; cheering for us (and taking pictures of course).

My cousins Alex and Bob (waving).

Foster and April (on our committee); rock sculptors extraordinaire.

Natalie and Debbie; family members of our mechanic/driver Richard (drove in three parades).

My kids; Andy and Kristin, and three of the five-handsomest-grandsons-ever.

Elwood and Colleen; proud parents of our designer/artistic director Keith.

More of Keith's family in this crowd.

Laurie (another committee member) and her family. Laurie's husband Doug carved our children and most of our creatures.

Steve and Carol (committee members) waiting for us at the end of the parade.

I did take a lot of pictures during the parade; but as you probably noticed I only published the ones of our committee and their family members. I guess you could call it nepotism... 'cause it is.

Stay tuned for pictures from the big parade that our float was actually built for.