Yesterday was Mom's 84th birthday. She and Dad are very simple people who love God and family. As I have talked about earlier, Mom wanted us all to attend a session at the Temple last Friday and then Len and Julie suggested the adult children go to their house in Scottsdale last night for dinner. Len picked up Matta's Mexican Food on his way over and we had a nice time eating and visiting just the siblings and their spouses. It's been a long time since we didn't have any children and grandchildren running around, so it was quiet and stress free. It's probably a good thing because next week we will have the whole clan over for Thanksgiving and that can be chaos. As we were talking, Len asked us if we had heard about the ten sister missionaries who had to swim to safety and get to where they could be picked up and taken to Manila in the Philippines after the typhoon. He talked about the missionaries crying when there was a storm because the people are so poor they live in houses made of cardboard and plywood. Sometimes I feel so ashamed that I have been given so much but struggle to be happy and content with where I am in life and have allowed others to affect the way I feel about myself. Anyway, as we were leaving their home we looked at the pictures Mom has on her walls. They were probably taken around 1985 because Spencer only looked around one year old. Those were happy times, four little kids that were healthy and happy and who could have foreseen the challenges we would have in our life? I have tried to talk Mom into updating her photos but she likes living in the past and at 84 she can do what ever she wants to. When I looked around my house this morning I'm in the same boat with baby pictures and graduation photos everywhere. I guess the only difference between me and my Mom is the 24 years that separate us, and every year she gets older so do I.
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