One Year Later: Miss Nancy's Last Ride

There she is, in all of her glory. Eighteen years later and off to the salvage shop. Named (if you're curious) after one of our favorite ladies of all time, Miss Nancy Abbott (who Raleigh is named for in a roundabout way).

In Virginia Beach last summer the repairman told us that she had about six (maybe twelve) more months of life in her. And he was absolutely right! We drove her til her dying day sometime back in March.

Sweet Miss Nancy.

To fully understand our love affair with Miss Nancy, please check out one of my all time favorite posts here. And as icing on that cake, please check out this other post here.

The Time of My Life

Last week when I was sitting on the side of the pool watching Raleigh and Madeline perfect their backstrokes, some good friends of ours randomly asked me if I wanted to go to Six Flags with their family later that afternoon. They were taking their boys, and they had just enough free passes to get us into the park (minus Dallas, who was working).

I told them I would consider it - I had a lot to do to get ready for a church activity I was semi-in charge of, and I am seven months pregnant, and it does feel like the middle of July here (even though it's the beginning of June). And I would have to take three kids by myself (no Dallas) to a theme park!

But it was free. And spontaneous! And just what we needed to make a little summer memory for the girls, who have been dying to go to Six Flags.

So I went. We packed some snacks, wore our swimsuits, talked it up and got really excited, and we even made it there in 40 minutes! The big boys went with Mr. Mike on the big rides, and Audra and I took the girls and the younger ones with us to all of the kiddie rides. It worked out great! Especially since I cannot ride anything anyway (pregnant as I am).

It was such a fun day for the girls - they couldn't have been more excited! They've never been on roller coasters, and they were so brave! I had just as much fun watching them as I would have had riding them. I think. We spent a lot of time cooling off at the water park, and we played HARD! We spent time in parts of Six Flags I've never been in, mostly because we had little kids with us who couldn't go on big rides.

But walking through the park, a flood of memories came to me of trips-to-Six-Flags-past. It's unreal to think that the same ride that my friend Brea Zondervan pulled me onto (semi-against-my-will) seventeen years ago is still there. I remember that I was hesitating about going on it because I'd never been on a roller coaster with loops. I sat down next to her for a second, and she pulled the strap down. The kind that you can't unlatch until the ride is over. And when I am in a dangerous situation, I pretty much freeze up and become useless. Well, I froze. But as the train slowly made its way up the hill, I was thinking in my mind of every possible way to squeeze out of my belt and jump off the ride (because of my impending death-by-roller-coaster). At the first loop, I squeezed my eyes shut. Wait? Was I screaming and laughing?! Was this really fun? After that I was in love with scary roller coasters, and the Mind Bender is still one of my favorite rides (mild as it is).

Six Flags is a graveyard of former boyfriends and love-interests. If you're not already "together," you will be by the time your night at Six Flags is over. But come Monday at school, you won't be. If you're already dating, Six Flags will deepen your romance! There's nothing like adding intense summer humidity, tight crowds of people, and screaming together on big mechanical hills to enhance your relationships.

For me it holds memories of best friends and terrible pranks involving BB pellets being dropped by handfuls from the Sky Train onto lunch-goers under plastic umbrellas and very expensive, very potent stink bombs being let off in the lines to get onto the rides. It is holding hands for the first time with crushes and running together in the dark. It is middle school and high school all blurred together.

And at 6:00 pm when the storm clouds started rolling in, and we were making a run for our cars, I could remember this same scene, half a lifetime in the past. Only this time, I was holding hands with my girls and pushing a stroller. I was laughing and running with the loves of my current life.

And as I drove home with chattering sweet little girls in the backseat (one of them falling asleep) and the thunder booming overhead, I looked back at them in the rearview mirror, and a haunting song from the past came on the radio:

Another turning point;

a fork stuck in the road.

Time grabs you by the wrist;
directs you where to go.

So make the best of this test
and don't ask why.

It's not a question
but a lesson learned in time.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

So take the photographs
and still frames in your mind.

Hang it on a shelf
In good health and good time.

Tattoos of memories
and dead skin on trial.

For what it's worth,
it was worth all the while.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

My thoughts immediately turned to one of those boyfriends-past, and a scene played in my mind from ten years ago. High school was over and he was home from his mission, and we were still the best of friends. We were out together, and he drove into a cul-de-sac, and before I knew it, he was proposing to me. I heard myself telling him, "No."

No more words were spoken, and silently he drove me home. Green Day came on the radio and played this song for us in its entirety. It was a short drive, and this is a short song, but it played from beginning to end and drowned out the silence. And during that drive, a flood of good memories drowned out the hurt that we both felt. It was melancholy and nostalgic, wonderful and sad, and "in the end it was right."

And half a lifetime since my first trip to Six Flags, I realize that Dallas and I have never been there together. In some ways I hope we never do. I'll let those memories rest in peace.

And continue to make memories for the present.

I'm having the time of my life.

Dads and Fathers

There are fathers - providers, protectors, well-respected, and honored.  And there are dads - playful, easygoing, caring, and warm.  I've been lucky to have both a father AND a dad - the best of both worlds.  The longer I live, the more I realize how COOL my parents are (and were).

The earliest memory I have of my dad is riding on the back of his motorcycle with him when we lived in Utah (and realizing he was man enough to not only give me a good ride, but also to not go too fast if I was scared.)  I was about four years old. 

And the next memories I have are of playing baseball with him in Florida, both at the ball field and in our backyard at home.  I remember practicing over and over to learn how to catch a pop fly.  I was too scared and didn't want to watch the ball coming at my face, and he taught me how to keep my eyes open and on the ball.  And I remember when I finally started catching well!  We got so excited together.

One time when we lived in Florida, we were taking one of our signature family bike rides around the block.  My dad was popping wheelies on his ten-speed with Jess riding in the infant seat on the back.  Many of you know what happened . . . maybe that's why Jess is the way he is!!  (Just kidding, Jess.  But I remember the neighbors said they could hear your crying from the other side of the block!)

My parents were cool enough to work hard AND play hard.  Depending on what frame of mind I am in, I either remember our family ALWAYS working, or ALWAYS playing.  When we were ALWAYS working, my dad was there as Commander-in-Chief:  

We were picking up rocks on our new property in Georgia.  One hundred at a time.  While whining about the heat and how all of our friends got to play and we didn't.  

We were working to put in our yard, or build swing sets (my dad built one at every house we've lived in) and gardens.  We were constantly weeding, mowing, watering, mulching, picking up branches, digging, and sweating.  And if we weren't outside working with my dad, we were inside working with my mom!

We planted 1,000 pine trees from little seedlings around the perimeter of our second house in Georgia.  Do you know how LONG that took??  And then we had to water them - a bucket of water for each tree, if I remember correctly, which we would fill up at the shop door at the back of the house, drive it over to the trees on the back of the golf cart, and repeat 999 times.  I must admit that I probably only repeated it 333 times and used one bucket of water per THREE trees.  Terrible, I know.  But most of our Saturdays and summer mornings were spent working in the yard half the day (or so it seemed).

When we were PLAYING, my dad was right there in the action, too.  Maybe that's why I have such fun brothers - I think they got it from him.  He is an absolute GOOF!  Anyone who knows him well knows that he is ALWAYS joking.  But his sense of humor can be hard to catch onto if you don't know him (or any other Purdy's) very well.  But when you catch on, he is so much fun!  He always makes me laugh, and it is HILARIOUS to make HIM laugh hard.

We spent our playtime at the ballpark, in our backyard, at the lake, and having LOTS and LOTS of BIG parties at our house.  My parents seemed to always be inviting people over for parties and dessert.  It made our house seem like the "fun" house, despite all of the "drudgery!"  And they would let us invite over 20 friends at a time if we wanted to.  I have so many memories of a packed basement and dance parties or a full yard of night games.  Aren't they cool parents??

Our best times were spent at the lake after long weeks of hard work.  Hours and hours of learning and mastering water sports!  My dad says that the best "investment" he made was on a boat.  He loved to see us having fun together and encouraging each other in learning how to do our tricks on the water.

When we would take family trips, my dad was the kind who liked to stop and see everything AT or ON THE WAY to our destination.  Our trips were laid-back and never hurried.  Whenever we stopped to get gas, we would all follow him into the store for candy and a drink!  And we'd eat at restaurants - not out of a cooler!  It was the best.

I think one of the best gifts my parents have given me is that of a FULL CHILDHOOD that I look back upon with fondness and gratitude.  One of my dad's biggest goals was to make memories for his children.  I think he exceeded that goal.  His old adage was "don't be afraid to try new and different things," and all of us kids are better for it.  

All of my pictures of me and my dad together are packed away in storage, but here are some of him with the grandkids:

Cousins Kaiya and Raleigh tackle "Captain Bo Bo" or "Grandpa Bear," as they call him.

Kensington gets a riding lesson.

Madeline gets a squeeze.

One of my most lasting memories with my dad is of our "walks" together.  Every Sunday we would take a walk as a family down to the end of the street and back.  We still do this when we get together.  When we get to the end of the street, we have to touch the mailbox there before returning back.

When I was a junior in high school and had mono for EVER (like over a year), my dad was worried about my health.  So we went on walks together.  First I could only make it to the end of OUR driveway and back.  Then it was to the end of our OTHER driveway.  Then halfway down the road, and then further and further.  It took many weeks and months, but I knew in those walks that my dad loved me.  No matter what was going on in my life, I had a protective father and caring dad.

On one particular walk, after a difficult breakup with a certain boyfriend, he gave me some counsel that I still remember to this day.  He never wanted to give his opinion or advice too readily, fearing that he was imposing on my opportunity to make my own choices, but at that young age, I really just wanted to know what he thought.  I still do.

I love you, Dad, and hope you have a wonderful Father's Day!  From your little grown-up girl!

Here's the last walk we took in Georgia two months ago.  Our family has grown, and there were lots of people missing (like Nate, April, Calvin, Jess, Dannii, Kevin, and Rikki.)

Don't the three of them look tough??  I think so.  David, is that a mowhawk in your hair?  Oh yeah, it is!  Slightly crooked as I remember!

Had to throw this picture in.  Madeline and Choobs go fishing with their dad, my dad, and their cousin Dade.  Still making memories . . .

Nothing Like a Big Bum

 

A precious chapter in my life's history has ended today as summer officially began: these two memorable months of my one-on-one time with Madeline.  She really missed her preschool in Utah and all of her friends there, but I am glad that we didn't enroll her in preschool here, if only for the good memories she has of her preschool back in Utah.  (And because of the extra-special time we've spent together.)

Here she is on her last day of school (before we moved) with her teacher Mrs. Kathy Thomas.  It was the Friday before Easter, and they had a little Easter party, complete with an egg hunt and the bunny hop.  Madeline had this look of happy/sad on her face that's hard to explain.

We enrolled Madeline a little bit after the school year had already started, and Mrs. Kathy was unsure if they would have had room for her in the class.  Well, they made room for her, and Mrs. Kathy told me a few weeks later, "It turns out that Madeline is fitting in so nicely into our classroom.  She is such a joy to have in our class.  She is so well-adjusted."  And she said that Madeline was a "model student" that any teacher would be glad to have in their class because they teach the other kids how to act by their example.  You can tell this made me very proud!

Here's Madeline with Mrs. Keri.  She sure loves her teachers!  Too bad Mrs. Kim wasn't there when we were taking pictures.  Madeline's sad little bunny face is a heartbreaker!  It was a hard last-day for her.

Madeline is sitting next to her good friends Brianna Smith and Parker.  Parker had a little crush on Madeline this year.  I can't remember if I've written about it.  But his mom told me that he said, "Mom, sometimes I think she's so cute that I just want to kiss her!"  Parker moved away, too, to Washington.

Here's the other half of the class.

Since she's been back at home with me, I've felt like I had my little girl back!  I will be sad to see her go in the fall!  She helps me all morning, and we run errands together and play together and just talk.  She seems to be very mature for her age - she likes to talk about life a lot and why things are the way they are.  She is in constant observation of other people and seems like she'll be deeply grounded as she grows up.  She often wants to know "why" followed by a good discussion.  You've gotta watch yourself in front of her because she is constantly making an assessment.  She remembers EVERYTHING - not just good vs. bad, but what people were wearing, what people said, what people did . . . and she doesn't just remember things trivially, she is forming opinions and drawing conclusions.  And she remembers things from when she was THREE.  It's amazing.  It's a gift, actually.

She was looking out the window a couple of weeks ago and was like, "LOOK MOM!!  A GAZEBO!" as she pointed to a white limo rolling out of the parking lot.  It was cute.  I like this picture of the two girls together.  Madeline told me that she likes it a lot because her foot is off the ground.

Several weeks ago, she let us in on a little secret of hers that I should document for posterity.  She was in her bedroom feeling conscious of her Purdy-posterior, or shall I call it her Big Bum??  (She's FIVE!  How can she know yet if she has the genes for a heavy-duty derriere??)  Well now you all know she is a thinker, and this is what she was thinking about.  But then she shrugged to herself and said, "Nothing like a big bum!"

Oh, man, we got such a kick out of that one.  Oftentimes, I'll say that phrase ("Nothing like a _______") to lighten the mood or enjoy life.  For example, "There's nothing like a good thunderstorm," or "Nothing like a clean house," or "Nothing like fresh laundry," etc.  So I thought Madeline's version was hysterical!  Now we use it in other ways.  Kensington needs a diaper change: "Nothing like a big bum!"  Can't squeeze past someone?  "Nothing like a big bum!"  

Try it.  You'll like it.

Cuz there's nothing like a big bum.

And I'll miss you, Madeline.

These are My Jewels

President Gordon B. Hinckley, former president of our church, tells a story that I love about a group of women in ancient Rome who "were, with vanity, showing their jewels one to another.  Among them was Cornelia, the mother of two boys.  One of the women said to her, 'And where are your jewels?' to which Cornelia responded, pointing to her sons, 'These are my jewels.'  Under her tutelage, and walking after the virtues of her life, they grew to become Gaius and Tiberius Gracchus--the Gracchi, as they were called--two of the most persuasive and effective reformers in Roman history.  For as long as they are remembered and spoken of, the mother who reared them after the manner of her own life will be remembered and spoken of with praise also."

These are my jewels:

And let's just throw in these two from this past week:

Isn't She Lovely? Isn't She Wonderful?

Last month when my mom was visiting Utah, we had some much-needed girl time at Dear Lizzie, our favorite Alpine boutique.  As we were wandering through girly-land, our conversation turned inevitably to family - and the little kiddos from which we were taking a break.

That's how it goes.  We are mothers.

While I admired a tiny wire birdcage placed atop a high shelf, I remembered an idea I'd had a few years back when our family's youngest sibling, Rikki, graduated and left for college.  It never came into fruition, and I thought of it again a couple of years later when she got married.

I wanted to buy my mom a birdcage, a little wire one like I saw in the store.  And I wanted to put a little nest in the bottom - empty, of course.  And I wanted to prop the door open and hang a little sign on it that said, "You taught us how to fly," or something tender about her empty nest.  (Of course, the sentiments would be for both of my parents, but more especially to my mother.)

I told my mom about my idea, and she started crying right there in the store!  I got teary, too, so we cruised around acting like we were shopping for a few minutes so we could collect ourselves.  

But from a mother to a mother, I think I can say with all my heart, "Thank you for what you've done for me.  Thank you for loving me and teaching me and praying for me.  Thank you for your sacrifice and your compassion.  Thank you for being the kind of woman I want to emulate.  I love you, Mom!"

That's how it goes.  We are mothers.