A Father's Thoughtful Love

This extraordinary father did something amazing for his family. Diagnosed with terminal metastatic melanoma, Fred Evans arranged a surprise ceremony for two of his daughters so he could walk them down the aisle (of his four children, two were unmarried).

The love captured in these photos is beyond moving.

I honestly have no words for this. Just grab a box of tissues before you click through to read the article and see more images. What a remarkable family.

Father with Terminal Cancer Walks Unmarried Daughters Down the Aisle

Growing Up

Last week I had a big birthday. I turned (mumble)-ty. I can't say I've been looking forward to this birthday, necessarily, but I have been doing my best to proactively come to terms with the end of my youth (I'm not at all overdramatic)--Sometimes I even managed to forget that I wasn't yet my new age. I'm not really sure why this birthday seemed so ominous, but it did, for several months. And then serendipity placed this video in my RSS reader and I happened to come across it during my lunch hour on my birthday. Gaining another year isn't so bad, especially if I think of all of the cool things to come (and it's certainly better than the alternative, as my Grandpa used to say).

Love and Courage

We must replace fear and chauvinism, hate, timidity and apathy, which flow in our national spinal column, with courage, sensitivity, perseverance, and, I even dare say, "love." And by "love" I mean that condition in the human spirit so profound it encourages us to develop courage. It is said that courage is the most important of all the virtues, because without courage you can't practice any other virtue with consistency. 

--Maya Angelou, Even the Stars Look Lonely

I read the news a lot, and I try to keep up on what's happening in the world. Sometimes this is a pretty depressing thing to do--in fact, as a teenager, that was my reason for refusing to read or watch the news. So much of what goes on in the world seems to be motivated by hate, and it can be hard to hear about.

But I have learned that most often, what looks like hate is actually fear or insecurity. No person is born bad, and people do not become "bad" without having a lot of painful things happen to them. In fact, pretty much no one goes through life without having painful things happen to them; where people make a mistake is in taking out their pain on others. 

In many ways our society is a comparatively enlightened one, but we have a lot of failings as well. One of these is our tendency to discriminate based on all kinds of things--race, gender, wealth, physical appearance, sexual orientation, nationality, political affiliation, age, religion--and I think discrimination is the single most obvious example of a hateful behavior that stems from fear. Discrimination is often lashing out against people who are different because we are afraid of them, or because deep down we are unsure of ourselves. When we discriminate against others, we take out our fears on people who have done nothing to hurt us, people who have fears and pain of their own, and who deserve to live their lives without antagonism from others who are different.

Life is too precious to spend our time dwelling in negativity. Instead of letting fear and insecurity control our actions, we need to learn to respond to people with sensitivity and love--and with the courage and perseverance to continue even when it would be easier to stop.

Lesson Learned: Rachel Learns to Kill Vampires

Contest entry #7 by Rachel Slough. The contest is now closed, but we're glad we extended it, because more of you responded (including some right at the wire)! (Don't forget that you can alway send us guest posts too - even when there isn't a contest.) Look forward to another week and a half of essays before we vote for a winner! 

I love teaching and get a thrill from the surprises and constant variety, and the energy when students make new connections. While teaching one-on-one has always been fun, teaching a full classroom was absolutely terrifying for a long time. All of those eyes on me, the expectation that I keep a room of people engaged and learning; everyone silently, or not so silently, judging my words and actions. I had nightmares about all the horrible things that could happen in a classroom, yet I couldn’t shake this gut-level feeling that teaching would be worth any of these challenges. I knew that I’d have to get over this fear of teaching full classes, so I forced myself to teach as often and in as many settings as I could throughout high school and undergrad. I asked people I trusted for suggestions, I read books, I had others critique my teaching, I learned yoga and breathing techniques. I even spent a year abroad on a teaching grant, which allowed me 30-40 hours of teaching each week and seminars each month related to education and the art of teaching.

But the terror remained and, no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop the rising panic that started every time I began a class and the rushed pace and frantic atmosphere that resulted—exactly the opposite of the safe, comfortable learning environment that I wanted to establish for my students. After all this effort, I still loved teaching, but I was beginning to doubt if I was really doing myself, or anyone else, any good by keeping this up. Maybe it was time to accept, move on, and find something else that I’m better suited to do.Stubborn as I am, I gave myself a mental deadline of just one more semester of effort and kept asking experts for ideas. My graduate supervisor suggested a zen-like approach of just accepting, ok, I get panicky when I teach. That’s just what it feels like. Accept, embrace, go with it. While this helped somewhat, it wasn’t enough to help me slow down or eliminate the panic. I asked another friend, who advised me to Just Kill Those Vampires, explaining that the song “Die Vampire, Die” from Title of Show says it all (warning that there is explicit language).

In other words, identify the demons and thoughts that are keeping me from doing what I need to do, and show them no mercy.

In teaching, it was helpful to be able to name specific vampires: I’m afraid I can’t do this, I’m afraid the students will hate me. Okay, DIE vampires! I can teach; if the students hate me, it doesn’t matter.

Or something like that.

Once the fears had names and identities, eliminating or minimizing them suddenly became easier and made the classroom much more enjoyable. It allowed me to slow my pace, just a little, and to laugh more.

I’m not claiming that this song, or this attitude of trying to identify and kill life’s vampires, has transformed me into a perfect teacher or human being. I still have a looooooong way to go, and, if you were to watch me teach, you’d notice that my pace is still faster than most, and often faster than advisable. I think I may always have a moment of panicked energy right before I teach or face any situation that seems scary for whatever reasons. But being able to notice, name, and kill my vampires has allowed me to find more joy and peace in what I do, both inside and outside the classroom.

Lesson Learned, Melissa: Don't Limit Yourself

Contest entry #2, by one of our frequent guest writers, Melissa Turney, who now runs the awesome blog Living in the Motherhood.

I used to consider myself a pretty adventurous person. I’ve always loved to travel to strange and exotic places around the world and immerse myself in their culture—as far as my dollar will allow. I would love to engage in challenges testing my own limits. Before I got married, there were very few things I wouldn’t consider doing once as long as it remained in the bounds of my moral compass and I could afford to do it.


Then I grew up.


I got married, got a job, graduated from college, had a baby…and pretty soon I was pretty well settled in my new found comfort zone. You know—the one where you don’t take overnight trips to foreign countries just for the stamp in your passport or go repelling off a cliff just to impress some cute guy. It is the zone where you see 9 PM flashing on your clock radio and think “Bed time already…Woohoo!”


This summer I took a trip with my daughter up to Island Park Idaho where I spent the better part of my summers as a youth (proof that I’m old…I’m using the word youth). Most of the cousins I spent my time with as a kid were off being adults, so I had the privilege of getting to know some “youthier” cousins and my sister who are all in the 15-19 year range. For some reason this brought out a side of me that I thought had vanished.


Several of my cousins decided it would be fun to go bridge jumping. I do not like heights, falling, or becoming paralyzed so I decided against it. Unfortunately for me, as I stood there watching my cousins hurl themselves off the bridge into the water I began to get that "old" sinking feeling in the depths of my bowels.


I had to jump.


Yes it was hard, yes it took me about ten minutes of standing on the very edge picturing my dead body floating in the river while making others jump before me (including my daredevil 6 year old cousin), but I closed my eyes and jumped into what seemed an eternity until I hit the frigged water of the Snake river and came up feeling awesome. When I emerged from the water my grandpa said, "There is the mother of the year!"


Why didn't I want to take the chance in the first place? Why would I think that becoming an adult would exclude me from such ridiculousness? I was using adulthood as an excuse to prohibit myself rather than a jumping point (no pun intended) to reach my full potential.


This is why three days later I found myself standing on a rock in Yellowstone National Park absolutely naked.


Bridge jumping renewed my desired to go beyond my comfort zone and be spontaneous. My sister and cousins invited me to Mystic falls to go skinny dipping. I'll spare you the details but know that I absolutely did it and I have never felt better doing something illegal in my whole life. Sure, I was afraid I would get swept up in the currant and my naked body would go over the waterfall, sure I was afraid that someone would steal my clothes, or I would get partially eaten by a bear-- then be found naked, but I learned that you are never beyond challenging yourself, you are never beyond adventure.


Life is meant to be lived. For some people it means ignoring your diet to indulge in your favorite dessert, for others it is jumping out of a plane. I learned that you should never limit your choices based on the stereotype you have categorized yourself in. Sure I am an adult. I’m a mom…but I am also Melissa Turney, and she likes a little adventure now and again.

Rock Bottom

"Isn’t it the moment of most profound doubt that gives birth to new certainties? Perhaps hopelessness is the very soil that nourishes human hope; perhaps one could never find sense in life without first experiencing its absurdity."
--Vaclav Havel

View from the Bottom of a Well, courtesy of clickykbd on flickr

Sometimes getting to rock bottom is what enables you to finally take a step that you've been needing to take for a long time. It takes a lot less courage to make a big change when you having nothing left to lose, and sometimes maybe that's life's way of helping us out. When you're at the bottom, there's nowhere to go but up.

All it Takes is Faith and Trust...

Maybe I watched Finding Neverland this weekend and maybe I cried in a room full of people, but I don't feel too bad about it. It made me think of this quote Megan has been toying around with from e.e. cummings:

"It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are."

One of my favorite parts in Finding Neverland is when J.M. Barrie (the author of Peter Pan) is talking to George, the oldest of the four boys in the movie. George has just realized that his mother is seriously ill and J.M. Barrie says, "Magnificent. The boy is gone. In the last 30 seconds... you became a grown-up." It seems like a sad and random part to like, but I like it all the same.

It really is easy to see such a change in a person if you are really looking. It's sad and wonderful and it's like seeing into the future. You can see a person gathering their courage before taking that final leap. You can see where that leap might take them based on the decision they are making. Most importantly, if you are paying attention, you can be aware of when this change happens to you. I think it can happen several times throughout your life. We aren't limited to one try at becoming a grown-up or at becoming who we really are (thank goodness). We have endless opportunities to take the courage to grow up a little more each day and that is what will help us become the lovely people we are meant to be.

Live right now; just be yourself/ It doesn't matter if it's good enough for someone else.

When I meet someone new, or get in touch with someone I haven't talked to since childhood, I find myself trying to get a sense for what kind of person that person will like, then trying to fit myself into that mold. It isn't a conscious decision, just my natural subconscious approach to conversation; I do it with people I already know well, too, only it isn't so obvious because that's how I'm used to interacting with them. When I sit in front of the computer trying to write a comment on someone's Facebook wall, I delete and rewrite again and again, analyzing everything to pieces and trying to anticipate how the person will react to every word.

It takes more courage than I currently have, but I am trying to learn that I don't have to use a fake personality for every person in my life. I don't have to hide my real thoughts and feelings from people. I don't need to pretend to feel the same way they do about everything; I shouldn't try to make them see me only from a certain angle, or be afraid that if they see the other angles, they won't like me anymore. If people don't like me the way I really am, then there isn't much sense in associating with them. It's okay if every person I meet doesn't love me. They can take me or leave me, and I'll be okay; the important thing is to just be comfortable with myself.

Be Brave

Continuing some themes we seem to have going this week, I want to talk about being brave.

I don't think of myself as a particularly courageous person. I don't even like calling strangers on the phone. I'm terrified of spiders, I have dreams about going blind at least once a month, and I still run up the stairs really fast when it's dark in the basement. I get lightheaded in job interviews, I have panic attacks driving in the snow, and I covered my eyes during most of The Grudge.

So during the last year and a half there was a long series of events that led to me moving to Indiana. Most of those events involved my plans for my life falling through or not being what I thought they would be, and nothing worked until I decided I had to go away to grad school (rather than completing a program online while working at the BYU library, as was my original plan).

I wasn't completely sure I wanted to move across the country. I was terrified, and it was even worse when I got there and had to put my dad on a plane the next morning. I wanted nothing more than to get in my car and drive back home. My dad even told me that if I didn't like it by the time the tuition reimbursement deadline came up, I could drop my classes and come home. (Yeah. It was that bad.)

Thankfully, I stuck it out past the first few days. As it turns out, moving to Indiana was exactly what I needed. I'd been in the same place for a long time, and although it was fun and safe and familiar, I was really stuck. I wasn't really all that happy with where my life was, no matter how much I loved my roommates and loved being able to go home for birthday parties on the weekends; now I'm really happy.

And I guess that's the point of all of this. Sometimes you get stuck, and then you either have to be happy being stuck or you have to do something you're afraid to do - get a new job, move to a new place, start a new relationship, climb a mountain, run away to London, (I moved to Indiana only after I'd done that one twice), change your major, buy a puppy - scary stuff like that. And don't decide not to do it just because you never have or because it will be scary. I'm beginning to realize that some of my best decisions have been the ones I was most afraid to make.

I'm posting this video because this song is one of those that I like to listen to when I'm afraid to do something. The title is roughly, "No, I regret nothing." Even if you don't understand it (two years of college French and I still don't catch all of it), I think the feeling comes through just fine.

http://www.youtube.com/v/0YkLq6J_6cA&hl=en_US&fs=1&%22

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Every man has his own courage, and is betrayed because he seeks in himself the courage of other persons.