Sundays Are Hard

We survived spring break and the kids are all back in school, thank heavens.  We did get a lot done around the house and yard. I found myself kind of envious of those who have the time and money to take their families away for the week. Because Rich wanted to run his own business, that has never been the case for our family. Sometimes when I'm feeling sorry for myself, I am reminded of my blessings. I'm lucky to even have a house to live in and a yard to mow. We have a huge posterity that seems to grow every year and we are thankful for all of them. Sundays seem to be the hardest for me. It's a time of reflection and quiet. It seems like Sundays represent my parents love of the Gospel and their testimonies that they shared with us often. It reminds me of their service as Dad was Bishop, Missionary and Temple Worker. My Mom now attends her Ward alone, and I know that has to be hard but she carries on. Sometimes I look back at last year and all the inspiration I received about Dad's final year. When we were juicing pomegranates, I felt it would be his last year. Then when we had Christmas Dinner I felt again that this would be the last Christmas with him. He didn't even make it out of January before he left us, but he was ready and I'm happy he is out of pain. Sometimes I can hear him tell me he's okay and happy where he's at, that eases the pain a little bit. We did get a little bit of good news this last couple of weeks. Spencer and Annie aren't moving to Montana as planned because he was offered a job in Tucson. I don't think Annie is as excited as he is but the opportunity he has been given was too good to pass on, so they will be way closer than Boston or Billings. He loved playing football at the U of A and hopefully he can use his opportunities their to help others. Now it's time to get going and finish all the projects I didn't get done last week, that's going to take a long time, not to mention all the quilts I need to finish.