The staff of the UVU Review hit the streets of Park City for our newspaper retreat. We were able to experience some great speakers and some pretty sub-par food.
xxx.
Park City
The staff of the UVU Review hit the streets of Park City for our newspaper retreat. We were able to experience some great speakers and some pretty sub-par food.
Heber House
Recently, I gratefully joined the Allen family on their annual trip to the "Heber house". It was a few blissful days of golf cart tours, swimming, Park City visits, and Alpine Slide rides (there was the cutest baby cousin, too). xxx.
Grandpa
A man of baseball muscles and skinny legs, a hard worker.
A man of laugh-lines and “sweethearts”, a loving spirit.
My grandfather’s memory is quickly fading away. His mind comes and goes, like an unpredictable tide. Waves, lapping at his brain, tickling his conscious.
I took care of him today: a ride to the dentist, a hug, a microwaved meal, a watchful eye.
“Don’t make me a liar,” I said, eyebrows raised. “I don’t want to have to pretend that you took a good nap when you didn’t.”
He laughed, hands in front of him, raised in surrender.
“You’re a good girl. I wouldn’t make you do that,” he chuckled. I turned back to the sink, rinsing our dishes for grandma.
“I remember when you graduated from school,” I smiled at the water running over the porcelain, sure he couldn’t.
His voice was serious now, desperate to convey his sincerity. “I can’t remember the other kids, but I remember yours. You’re the one that matters.”
I looked up at him, his back curled inwards, one hand on his chest, one steadying his shaky body. His eyes were filling with tears.
I dashed over to him and wrapped my arms around his thin shoulders. His glasses clawed me from within his chest pocket, as they alway had. That little bite I had braced myself for a thousand times.
I thought of the first memory I possess of my grandfather, his speech at my baptism. I don’t remember the day, I don’t remember anything but his voice and the tears that poured from his eyes. He had shared the story of my birth, how he had fought a cancer I’d never known about, battled it just to see me come into the world. He’d won, he was there. He blessed me and taught me as I grew. I was the little one he’d fought for, I was the one he held onto now, when others ebbed from him mind.
I smiled at him, and told him I wouldn’t tell that I was his favorite, if he wouldn’t tell that he was mine.
I will mean it long after he forgets, because he fought for me, and he won. xxx.
Pieces of Saturday
A couple days ago, Saturday, August 4th, my brother turned 19. A lot of other nice things happened too; A parade, Highland city's annual Highland Fling, a trip to the Hale Centre Theatre to see The Sound of Music, Sweet Tomatoes, smoothies, salads, and the wedding reception of a childhood friend. xxx.
1/2. The Highland Fling parade (featuring the creepiest float in the world).
3. My Momma
4. My pup, Doogan
5. Dad
6. A friendly police officer
7. My youngest brother, Alex
8. Just me
9/10. The highland games
11/12. My best pal, Connor
13. Connor's beautiful sisters, Maddie and Sophia, on the way to the play
Brunch
There are some mornings when I wake up wanting nothing more than to cook for my family. On those mornings maple waffles grace the table. xxx.
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