Kate of the Desert

Showing posts with label The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Show all posts

Back to School

My graduate began a few weeks ago, first with orientation, then with actual classes. My classes are all held online via Zoom, except for one class that is on campus at the U for 1.5 hours per week. I have a class on aphasia, developmental language disorders, articulation and phonology, language learning disabilities, and clinic class. In addition, I will start observing clinical sessions on Telehealth before before integrated into the lesson plans. My classes are each held once a week in three hour hour blocks, so in order to prevent "Zoom burnout," as people commonly call it, I try to switch up my location. Rather than always staying in my PJs in my office or bedroom, where it's easy to fall asleep, I try to get ready and go to the UVU library for class {since the U is so far}. Since we spend so much time sitting, Dallin and I have started going to the gym too! It's the first time in my life I have bought a gym membership.

Back to Church

I hadn't been to church since March, and man was I missing it. I've just been feeling this sort of emptiness in my life, and I knew that was one of the reasons. How often wards attend are up to local leaders, and our particular bishop had announced a few months ago that we would meet once a month. Well, the first month we had family in town and spaced it, the second month I had coronavirus, and the third month we were out of town. So today, not wanting to wait another week, I tugged Dallin out of bed, got dressed in my Sunday best, and walked to the local ward house on the off chance that there was a different ward meeting there at 9. There was! The meeting lasted for 45 minutes with sacrament, a song, a single talk and a closing prayer. Pews were marked so that people would keep distance between each other. Even with the changes, it felt like coming home. I missed church.

Back to a Social Life

One of the side effects of COVID-19 is isolation. I didn't get to say goodbye to a lot of friends in March after BYU announced, "Sorry folks, no school tomorrow." And then after that, we graduated. Some friends moved to different cities, some to different states. We try to get together, but it gets really difficult! Finally yesterday a few of us were able to arrange a meeting at a local crepe shop. I had already been missing our little posse, but this made it sting worse! None of my friends are attending the U, and now that most of my classes are online PLUS I live so far from the rest of my cohort, I am worried about being isolated from my new classmates.

Luckily, my high school gals are always down for a cheesy movie night or Sonic shakes. Dick and Rachel are always down for games or our hikes. Pictured at the top of the post in Silver Lake, to be distinguished from Silver Lake Reservoir.

On Christmas, I was at Dallin's family's house when suddenly my mom called. "You need to come home right now. Grandpa has taken a turn for the worst." My dad had already left to drive over to the hospital, but even though Grandma and Aunt Susan had been there not long before, no one in the family was there when he passed away. The entire extended family met in the hospital room where Grandpa lay, still. Many tears were shed. It was strange to see our grandfather like that. Yet my uncles and aunt began sharing stories and offering homage to their father and the wonderful life he had led. My grandma, calmer than all the rest, comforted us in saying that he didn't have to be deaf anymore. He could be back with his parents and other family members on the other side.

Some people say it's sad that it happened on Christmas. But truly, it brought a deeper meaning to Christmas than any before, as we pondered the birth of Christ and His subsequent Atonement, death and Resurrection celebrated at Easter. We felt so at peace. I've never been one to have a doubtless testimony, and yet in that time I KNEW that we would see Grandpa again one day. There was no doubt about it.

On January 1st, the family caravanned up to Utah to attend the funeral. Grandpa was honored with dozens of relatives and old friends from his childhood in Monroe. I learned stories at the service that I had never heard that made me smile. Grandpa was buried in the Hamel section of the SLC Cemetery, beside many of Grandma's forbearers. He was honored with the presence of the Air Force, who demonstrated Grandpa-like precision by refolding the flag when a glimpse of red was visible the first time.

Grandpa suffered from dementia in the last three or so weeks of his life. I don't wish to dwell on such stories, except for that in which he insisted my dad take him to the Mercede's dealership to make a spare key because Grandma took his keys away. My mom called the dealership as they headed out the door to warn the salesman not to let my Grandpa have keys under any circumstances. In spite of such stories, I believe it is more important to write about the amazing legacy he left behind.

My Grandpa Burns was born in the early years of the Great Depression. His parents were born at the end of the nineteenth century, and his grandparents were Danish pioneers who settled in Monroe, Utah after finding the gospel. Grandpa grew up on a farm where he would often be up from sun-up to sundown thinning sugar beats.

Not content with such a life, he decided to become a pilot, and during the same time as the Korean War, he was sent to Europe. He couldn't have been more ecstatic for my mission call to Southern Germany and Austria because of his time there. I once met a Bavarian woman who praised American soldiers such as my grandpa, without whom, as she said, they would have starved. One of the bravest stories told at the funeral was that in which a top-secret message needed to be sent across the continent, and though a storm was raging so bad that every flight in Europe was cancelled, Grandpa was sent as the sole plane in the sky to deliver the message. His plane began to freeze and the dark was so all-consuming that he had to rely entirely on his instruments to land.

After the war ended, he met a stewardess named Marilyn and almost didn't take her out again when she fell asleep watching the movie {neither realized at that point that she had sleep apnea}. When they got engaged, he helped his dad slaughter a pig, startling my grandma so bad that she gave him the ring back. Although her intention was for him to console her, he slipped the ring back in his pocket and agreed to take her home. On the drive, she pointed to a pretty pheasant, at which point he freaked her out even worse by slamming the breaks, shooting it, and swinging the car around to take it to his father. Luckily, it worked out for all of us and they were married in the SLC Temple by an apostle.

His farming experience came in handy when my grandma's labor with their forth child {my dad} occurred so quickly that she delivered him on the bathroom tile. My grandpa raised his kids on strong gospel principles, resilience, and hard work, and he used to shout "BOUNCE" and jump onto their beds on Saturday mornings if they didn't wake up. He made up wild nicknames and songs for the kids and dogs. When they moved from Ohio to Cali, he wanted my fifteen-year-old dad to get experience driving and so had him drive the moving van. On day 2, my dad started feeling nauseous.

"Dad, we need to pull over."

"No son, we don't have time to pull over."

"I think I'm gonna throw up!"

"If you're sick, then just roll down the window and I'll take the wheel. I'm sure you'll feel much better."

And so it happened. Later on in the trip, as they approached the California border, my dad panicked and wanted to switch before anyone could see him. "You'll be just fine," my grandpa insisted. And so it was.

There are many stories of my grandpa. He was a farmer, a pilot, a jeweler, a family man, a missionary, a record-breaking indexer for the Church, and many other things. He always gave us bear hugs and big kisses. He had a stronger testimony than any person I have ever met.

When he passed away, the nurse told us emotionally that he had passed with grace, and that she hopes she can go just like he did. We will miss him of course, because we love him, but that's why we sing the song "Families Can Be Together Forever."

I studied long and hard this week, but I am proud to say I aced my physics midterm. Between learning about sound waves from the textbook and the secret anechoic chamber in the BYU basement, I also went out to ice cream with old-friend Tyler, and visited our bishop from Gilbert, who flew up with his wife solely to take us former youth out to a buffet.

After taking the test and attending an inspirational conference on the refugee crisis in Europe, I rewarded myself with a Friday night without studying. Lindsey picked me up with Cody and his wife to hike Bridal Veil {where they collected leaves}. Later that night, I had this spastic burst of energy, so Rachel and I hit up three or four grocery stores, Forever 21, and a thrift store to buy our Halloween costumes {sorry to brother Adam for not bringing you batteries so you could wear your blow-up dinosaur costume at the football game}. Katie slept over, borrowing our pajamas and sleeping on a blow-up mattress; after scrolling through Netflix's lame scary movie selection for a half hour, finally at 11:45 they decided on Supernatural while I went to the living room to write music and brainstorm my book {for the first time in a month}.

The next morning, I made pumpkin pancakes for both old and new roommates, and then we all watched conference in our PJs together. People in adjacent apartments screamed when they announced two-hour church, which I honestly thought was nothing more than a rumor these past several months.

After the second session, I was picked up to go on another date! We drove through gorgeous foggy mountains and hiked to Stewart Falls, where the forests provided a fiery array of colors. As we walked, we chatted about adventures stateside and abroad, and because hiking with wet hair is such an excellent idea, we also stepped under the freezing mist diffracting from the waterfall.
That night, Katie invited us to her guyfriends' UFC Fight Night party. Although we enjoyed talking with people, we all agreed that watching people beat the shiz out of each other was not our favorite activity.

For Sunday morning conference, we headed over to Becca and Taylor's, where they treated us to a delicious breakfast. Taylor cracked us up as usual, demonstrating the use of reverse psychology as an effect means to get kids to eat their quiche. The boys played Conference Bingo, and sweet baby Sloane cuddled on my lap while we watched. I seriously cannot get enough of that family.
That evening, I went on another mini date with a boy whose friend recommended I message him after seeing me on Mutual {the Mormon dating app I installed because why not}. When I messaged this guy, his response was "You're my type! You have a long face!" to which I had no idea how to respond? Thanks? Hahaha {Backstory: when I met my great-grandma Marjorie 5 years ago, she APOLOGIZED when she saw that both my mom and I had inherited her oblong facial structure}. It was a chill but fun date; we jumped on the trampoline as we asked each other questions about missions and so forth, and he then showed me his ceramic works and made pumpkin hot chocolate.

I am so grateful for the messages we heard this weekend. As our prophet spoke, I could just feel the love emanating from us viewers as we listened to his heartfelt testimony and watched him smile and crack up at his own jokes. Some of the messages were exactly what I needed to hear, and it strengthened my testimony hearing the honest but earnest pleas to follow Jesus, no matter where we are spiritually. He knows are struggles. He loves us anyway.

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