ides of march comes again

today we have been thinking about penelope's uncle cameron. seven years ago today we lost him. i know he is doing well, and i have a feeling that he has been keeping a special eye on penelope. (he loves babies, you know.)

(which seems fitting since he was once a baby, too)

rather than focus on the loss of my ridiculous, hilarious, head-strong brother, i have been trying to remember all the tender mercies the lord has given me as a result of this experience. a greater sense of compassion for those who experience loss. an even more tender heart. a heightened appreciation for my family. a wonderful husband who brought me home a candy bar as my "ides of march" treat. an intense gratitude for eternal families.

most importantly, i have received (and continue to receive) a deep appreciation for the Savior.

i'm not feeling particularly articulate today (i am going to blame this on the new mom brain that has replaced my old thinking unit), so i will just share a quote that i have learned to be so very true (thanks, aunt lynda, for bringing it to my attention again!)

"The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude."

--Joseph B. Wirthlin.

we love and miss you, cameron. in your honor, i will try not to take myself too seriously this week and down a couple of root beers, too. but i don't plan on ordering the shrimp and steak combo for breakfast. that is just going a little too far.

(i also resolve to get more pictures of cameron on my computer...)

ain't no sunshine when he's gone

so, jesse is gone for the week. the whole week.

i know whining like this seems pathetic (because it really is), but let me explain. he was gone all last week. and i saw him for about two hours this weekend because of family commitments and my recent fondness of napping. he keeps going to boise to finish his mandatory free labor for school.

but see, jesse leaves with the sun shining, and no less than three hours later, i hear the wind howling and the rain coming in. coincidence? i beg to differ.

if i could have heard myself five years ago, this kind of whiny behavior would have been baffling. some more potentially offensive (but recently occurring) clingy behavior might include:

• refusing to sleep in our new place until jesse can stay there with me. sure, there are creepy crafts crowding each room, and the place is really fit for senior citizens, but still. i simply refuse to stay at the place with my belongings and where i am paying rent until the husband can be there. i am surprised my parents haven't forcibly removed me from their basement.
• retiring to bed around 9:30 because i don't want to do anything else. i seriously got out of bed to write this post. i haven't been in bed that early since elementary school.
• talking about jesse so much that all my co-workers couldn't possibly handle another tale.
• sending approximately ten text messages an hour or calling if i haven't heard from the man in more than three hours. when i approach the three-hour mark, i tend to assume there has been a horrific accident. then each unreturned communication increases certainty that i have become a tragically young widow, and the volume of calls exponentially increases. it's a wonder he takes any of my calls.

so this could be indicative of a few things. it could be that i desperately need friends. or it could be a testament of the fact that i continue to fall more in love with him everyday.

it's probably both. but for sentiment's sake, i'm going with the second option.

jesse, i miss you. call me when you get to boise. or now.

the great purge

moving always feels like a soul-cleansing process.

what do you keep? pack? unpack? dedicate to a new place in a new home?

what doesn't make the cut?

that lamp i started to refinish that just needs the fresh coat of paint and the trim on the shade? keep. definitely.

that gallon of paint i was planning to use on said lamp? questionable.

that coupon i was holding on to for that one pizza place in pocatello that i thought was awesome, but i now blame almost entirely for the ridiculous weight gain during my stay there? toss. definitely.

to me, it is so much more than casually shoving all of your items into a few boxes and hauling them less than an hour north. it is meticulous.

so, you can see it takes time. it will take more time than i had budgeted. but if you were my husband, and you read this justification, then you would understand why i'm not packed yet. right?

the ides of march

(this picture of jil and cameron was shamelessly stolen from jil's blog. it was too cute to pass up.)

today marks six years since my brother cameron passed away. i had the privilege today to reflect on how grateful i am for a merciful heavenly father that has given us the gift of eternal families.

in honor of today, i have decided to do my first repost of an entry i did two years ago.

It's March 15 Again

It's hard to believe that it's been four years since Cameron's been gone. I won't say that it seems like yesterday that I gathered in my parents' bedroom with a host of loved ones around as my dad told us all over the phone that he had been killed. It doesn't. I'm a different person now than I was then. That day changed our family entirely.

However, I suppose it's easier to say that Cameron doesn't feel distant. I like it that way. He's missed the births of five new Davis grandchildren. He missed my wedding. I suppose you could say that's missed a lot--I know that we have certainly missed him. But his sense of humor, his little boy charm, and his huge heart have always been a part of us.

I think that these pictures of Cameron best depict what I admire most about him. They were taken about ten years apart, but they both depict exactly who he is.

These pictures show how over time, despite all of the challenges in his life, Cameron never lost his sense of who he was, and is: a goofy kid who loved a good baby, a good laugh, and a good family.

For those of you who knew and loved Cameron, my heart goes out to you today. It's hard every year.

And to Cameron: we all love and miss you every day. especially today.

au revoir, les bois

boise, i already miss you.

update on the mundane

i never thought i'd be genuinely sad to see a class go. certainly i have had those classes that i knew i'd learned from and enjoyed, but after a full semester, i generally knew it was time to go. but today i am actually sad that i didn't have to go to school again.

i just finished taking a week-long creative nonfiction class, and it was absolutely wonderful. i loved my instructor and his approach for setting up the class, i loved my writing group i workshopped with all week, i loved seeing andrea's happy little face every day, and i really loved making the time to write something new every night. i received such positive feedback and helpful critique--and i even shared some of my stuff with jesse (which i generally refuse to do).

i thought i would dread a 9-4 class every day this week, but all in all, it was a really great experience.

let's hope this upcoming week's class is almost as good.

and seriously, guys, i need some positive thoughts headed my way for the job hunt. i'm starting to really stress out...

in other news, we moved

about a week and a half ago, jesse and i had our first big move together. because we are moving to pocatello in the next little bit, we didn't see much point renewing our lease or going month-to-month (particularly because i am currently unemployed and therefore broke), so it was time to move on.

i have been delaying blogging about the move for a few reasons:


1. i am still recovering physically from the exhaustion that naturally ensues after a big move (in our rush to move out, we didn't even think to ask anyone to help us move all of our furniture, so it was just jesse and i)

2. i hate blogging about events for which i have no pictures (all pictures used in this post are a bit old)

3. i am oddly emotional about the whole ordeal


i know that not everyone saw our apartment as lovingly as i did. most people walked in to our five hundred square foot, one bedroom cave and would make comments like "wow, cozy space here," which not so subtly translates to "how do you live in these cramped quarters?" however, i loved it there. it was our first place together and it really felt like home to me.

right now we are staying at my dad's condo in the boise area, and we're grateful for the free rent (and the extra storage space for everything we haven't had time to deposit in our storage unit in pocatello), but i still find myself dreaming of this...

and ocassionally this little nook...

but i don't miss the tiny kitchen so much, though there were some good memories to be had there (can you imagine the frustration associated with making an entire thanksgiving dinner on that mini stove?)

so, until we have new jobs and homes, for now we live homeless, humble, and happy.

over and out.

some adieus

well, february is over, and as i bid adieu to the month of bloggly love, i find myself making several more goodbyes.

my dearest friend libby came to visit me this weekend, and i needed it ever so much. i LOVE it when i have visitors (hint, hint) and the libby did not let me down. our whirlwind weekend consisted of everything from standing in the insanely long line at sephora (we just got a store in boise this weekend!) to working out at the rec center to eating gummy candy after a rousing game of air hockey. she is such a versatile gal. i was ever so sad to send her off this afternoon, but i look forward to seeing her again soon.

my second adieu is to name i have grown rather fond of: mr. kitty. this petname for jesse started out as a sleepy accident to a joke to an established term of endearment. i thought it seemed very fitting for the man in my life. jesse, however did not. i see it as the description of a cuddly friend. he sees a neutered, de-clawed remnant of a man. we have gone back and forth on the issue--jesse says he hates it; i say he's embarrassed to admit how much he loves it. this weekend my dad intervened. i get fifty dollars for not calling jesse kitty for 30 days.

so long, kitty, you will be missed. meow.

and, last, but certainly not least, i am bidding a formal adieu to my thesis. after stressing rigorously over how to fit writing a thesis into my summer (i have this freak tendency to try graduating early in the summer), moving twice, and still making money, i have opted to try the coursework option to finish my degree. this has several perks:

1. instead of spending countless hours all summer researching and drafting, i now have to dedicate two weeks to classes on advanced inquiry and creative nonfiction in the classroom. i can handle that.
2. i don't have to spend all summer reminiscing just how weird that fanny price (from mansfield park) is.
3. i might get to go swimming this summer--something that never happened last year.
4. most importantly, i get to actually graduate in august, not defend in august and graduate in december. that's pretty neat.

so, it is with a smile that i bid adieu to the thesis. i may occassionally wish that i had you bound on my bookshelf, but i think i will find a way to live with myself.

some sad news

i am sure that most of you who read this blog have heard by now, but tonight President Gordon B. Hinckley--the President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints--passed away at the age of 97. it might seem odd for me, at the ripe age of 23, to feel so personally impacted by this loss, but i can honestly say that President Hinckley has been one of the most influential figures of my life.

every message that i have heard President Hinckley deliver has felt inspired to help guide my own personal life. his messages have always filled my life with love, an increased understanding of myself and my life's purpose, and appreciation for the Savior and the wonderful men and women who made so many sacrifices to make my life as full and blessed as it is today. i know that he was, and is, a man of God.

President Hinckley is one of those few people that left the world a truly better place than he found it, and i feel honored to have observed his life and felt the powerful influence of his example.