She Inspires Me: My Sister Kd

It's been a while since I have done one of these.  And it is kind of a tricky thing.  I have two sisters, and I love them equally, of course.  The fact is, the three of us had an interesting dynamic growing up.  Two of us were pretty tight and one of us was often excluded.  I will admit it, I was the one who shut her out.  She was two years younger than me, but she outgrew me when we were both really young.  She was confident, popular; whenever my friends came over, it seemed like she would steal them away from me.  Or maybe that was me, trying to steal her friends away from her.  Needless to say, Kd and I didn't exactly get along when we were younger.  As a matter of fact, we had some pretty vicious fights.  One thing I always respected about her, though, was she was always the first to apologize, even on occasions when it was totally my fault.  It was a quality I admired and struggled to emulate.

As I said before, she was also really popular, friendly, outgoing.  Full of energy.  Fun.  Talented.  She had a way of making people feel really good about themselves.  She was great at the jobs she had, checker at Clark's Market, waitress at Elk Ridge Restaurant.  She was and is so good at customer service, people loved being served by her.  I know people would go out of their way to use her checkout line and she often received the best tips.

She has a huge heart and is also very tender-hearted.  She feels things deeply.  I love how passionate she is about life and the things she cares about, which is a list forever long.  One of the things she is passionate about is being healthy and helping others be healthy.  She has lost a lot of weight in the past year, and it has all been from making good eating choices and being active.  She teaches a super-fun Zumba class at the Wellness Center and I love when people tell me how much they enjoy her classes and how good she looks.  She really is awesome.

It is so fun to be able to tell people she is my sister.  I love and adore her.  Another great quality she has is she never hesitates to help others.  I can't even remember now what it was, but I ran into someone at the grocery store one day and they thanked me effusively for a kind deed that I had done.  I was confused at the time, because I had no idea what they were talking about.  Then, I realized they had confused me for her.  As soon as I could, I let them know she was the one who deserved the praise.  I love being related to her!

Yesterday, she had a birthday.  I got to join her and one of her best friends, Spring Berrett for lunch.  It was really fun to get to celebrate her.  She is so fun to be around and a joy in every way.  I hope she knows how much I love her and how much she inspires me to be a better person, in every way.

She Inspires Me: (Long Overdue) My Mom

Okay, I have a ton of pictures of this lady at home on my computer, but since I am at work, I am going to go ahead and type this up without any pictures. Maybe I will edit it later and add some pictures when (if) I have time.

This post has been marinating in my head for months. It started probably around Mother's Day. What kept me from posting then? Well, I don't know if you have noticed, but I tend to avoid following specific patterns for blogging. Even though I have created this ongoing inspirational women feature, don't expect me to do it at a specific time, like a Friday Feature or a Wordless Wednesday. Wordless Wednesday, really? Don't we blog so we can go on and on about our lives? Isn't a journal for writing lots of words? And seriously folks, a picture may be worth a thousand words, but it cannot speak for you. (Brooke may disagree with me there. I know she has tons of pictures that speak volumes on their own).

So, obviously no Mother's Day Tribute.

Did you know her birthday is in June? Perfect time to write about the beauty of the wonderful lady who gave me life. The woman who has sacrificed so much for my happiness. The woman who now celebrates her birthday with a touch of sadness for the loss of what would have been her first grandchild, born one day before her birthday 16 years ago. So much I owe her, so much I wanted to say about that.

And then this year she got one of the worst birthday presents ever. I am so sorry that I had to be the one to give her the awful news, but I am also grateful that it was me and not someone else who could not truly understand her pain. Four of my mother's six kids were brought into the world by a doctor who was good friends with my parents. He was the doctor my mother trusted, all these years, living in this small town so far away from family and friends. No matter what stresses were going on in my mother's life, what health issues were affecting her, Dr. Redd was always a comforting part of her life.

Needless to say, that tribute to my beloved mother did not happen in June.

And my blog has been somewhat neglected this past couple months. We have led a wonderfully busy life, but when I blog, it tends to be just trying to update you on the fun things we have done. And I know you would rather hear about our trip to Lake Powell a couple days after the fact, instead of a month later. I apologize. Still, at the end of every one of those catch up posts, I think, soon. Soon I will write about her.

Then I think how can I possibly cover it all? How can I truly recognize all that Gail Glover is to me? I know I won't do it justice, but here, while I have a minute, here is a bit about why my Mother Inspires Me.

I will start with the fact that she loves my dad. Unconditionally. Completely. I mean, she must. A city girl who was close to her family married him and moved thousands of miles from home to the middle of nowhere. I am not just talking Blanding, which is where they settled, but literally the middle of nowhere on the Navajo Indian Reservation. And then let's go back to Blanding. How many years have they lived her now? Thirty-something, and my mom is still a city girl at heart, and still loves her family, but Blanding is where she and my dad have stayed. As her daughter and now as a mother to my own children, I am grateful for this choice she made. To make the best of where she was put. I am glad to be able to raise my kids in Blanding, near their wonderful grandmother.

And when I say she made the best of it, I really believe that to be true. She served the community in many voluntary capacities, including PTA President and Relief Society President, while she had small babies and children (six of us!) and no family babysitters (I know how spoiled I am). She also served on the school board, and was always trying to make a difference where she could.

Then when I was in junior high, my mom went back to work. Let me just say, I know now how lucky we were to have our mom at home while we were growing up. How spoiled we were being able to call anytime and say, "I forgot my homework," or "I just fell on my face off the monkey bars and they think I broke my nose." And there she always was, ready to rescue us, or help us face the consequences of our mistakes. Spoiled as well in the full-spread breakfasts she laid out for us every morning (I really thought cereal was a treat). And then there were the full-course meals that included many options for her six finicky (I have no idea how to spell that) eaters. I remember Italian Place steak sandwiches, egg rolls, with homemade fortune cookies, baklava.

Well, things changed with my dad's position at UNDC, and my mom found it necessary to use her skills to help provide for the family. She even returned to BYU for two summers to complete a Master's Degree. Those summers were some of my fondest memories. I have a feeling, like my mother, I am a city girl at heart. But I can be happy wherever my man is. I realize now it wasn't easy for her, being away from her husband during those months, taking care of six still young teenagers and tweens, while attending classes and trying to study. But she has always been a life-long learner, always trying to improve herself. And she succeeded in her goals then and many others.

In time, she became the Dean of Administrative and Student Services at the College of Eastern Utah, where she began this working career. For many years, she worked alongside Kay Shumway, the other Dean at the college. They made a good pair, working together to do what they could to keep college operations running smoothly. It's never easy being a woman in what is still a man's world, which is true of most working environments even today. I remember studying about that (gender issues) in college, because it had been one of my mother's areas of expertise in one of her previous positions at the college. I remember thinking my professor blew the whole inequality thing way out of proportion, but I have seen since how true it can be.

One of my mother's dear friends whose acquaintance she made while working for the college was Grace Jones, an African American woman who had been selected as the president of CEU. This woman met a lot of resistance from the college community, in Price as well as in Blanding in her role as a leader. Those rose-colored glasses I had been wearing, trying to convince myself that gender inequality was not an issue in the world anymore, they started to crack. A few years later, I realized the glass had fallen out entirely as I watched my own mother's struggle with different issues at the college that related directly to her leadership role, and others' perception of it.

I won't go into details. I don't know all the details. I do know my mother served the college for 25 years, and now that the time has come for her to retire (truthfully, in many ways, it is earlier than she would have liked), she is not getting any real recognition for the work she did there. Compared to what was given to others who also recently chose retirement, I cannot help but be offended on my mother's behalf. I am afraid (though I do not know), my mother has been misrepresented to many in regards to the way she did her job. All I know is my mother has loved the college from the moment she was first associated with it. She has wanted the best for the college, always. For years, she never took any leave time. She just accrued more and more, but she never used it. It was like the college was her baby and she couldn't stand to leave it.

She was personally invested in the people who worked there. She cared about them, worried about them, did all she could to support them. She cared about the students. She did all she could in her role to help them succeed. I have witnessed this firsthand on many occasions. If my mother was guilty of anything, it was that she was too invested in her job. When something didn't work right, she took it personally. I think, even though she is completely helpless now, she still does.

I like to believe my mother has made a difference in people's lives in the work that she did at the college all those years. I hope one day I can have as much influence as she has had. And I pray that she will know, as my brother Worthy has said, that to those that truly matter (her family), she has made all the difference in the world. And for that, I thank her.

I love you more than I can say, Mom. You are amazing!

Just so you know, we (her family) are throwing a retirement party for my mom at the Edge of the Cedars State Park and Museum on Friday, September 18, from 7-9 p.m. A blogsite has been set up so people can leave a word of congratulations and encouragement. Go here to check it out, and be sure to check out the article I wrote about it which should be in this weeks Panorama and the San Juan Record. My mom is awesome!

Another woman I admire: Mrs. R

Any of you out there do any blog stalking? Admit it, you know you do. Once in a while, you stumble across some random blog and you bookmark it, because you love the way the person writes, or the photography on the site, or the cool links they have on the sidebar. Whatever the reason, I am sure this has happened to some of you.

Yes, I am a blog stalker. That is how I found Mrs. R at the R House. Her real name is Lindsey Redfern and she is awesome. Way awesome. I love reading her blog. I love how she writes. I love how she advocates for adoption, a subject very close to my heart, and clearly dear to hers. I love learning more about her generous personality. I love being able to pray for the trials she is going through in her life right now. Don't love that she has trials, but I am grateful I am able to keep her dear family in my prayers.

One of my favorite things about Mrs. R is that she will often highlight other bloggers or friends and their stories dealing with adoption. She is very positive and very passionate, but also completely honest about the many difficulties (on all sides) involved in adoption.

I love, love, love Mrs. R.

Here is a video she shared recently that I also think is great:



Hey, you, even if you don't have time right now, please go check out her site. She welcomes blog stalkers, as long as you promise to be friendly.

Women who inspire me--"Cosette"

How do I tell the story of Cosette? How do I honor her today? I have been trying and trying to make myself commit to writing this post, but every time I have a spare minute, I talk myself out of doing it. I don't know why.

It shouldn't be hard. I have written essays about it before. I have shared my story several times within the Families Supporting Adoption groups that Britt and I used to meet with here. I have born my testimony of adoption during special fifth Sunday presentations at various wards throughout town. I even participated in a panel once at the high school, where I talked about how the choices which led me to adoption have affected my life. It really is not a sensitive subject to me. I am not ashamed or afraid of this story.

But I do feel the need to do justice to this tribute to the baby girl who changed my life, and helped me birth my testimony of this Gospel. Not telling it quite right, I think that is what I am afraid of.

Well, let me tell you, anyway. She will forgive me if it doesn't sound perfect.

My mother will tell you at that time in my life, she had been fervently praying that I would gain a testimony of the Church. That used to really bother me, because I always thought I had a testimony; I just didn't fully appreciate how the Gospel, and especially the Atonement worked in my life. Looking back now, I think a critical part of my testimony was missing. And that was--even though I would have denied it--that I did not fully accept that I truly was a child of God, with a divine nature. And as his child, that I truly mattered to my Father and my Savior.

There was a friend of mine waiting in heaven, watching over me as I struggled through this time in my life, when I intentionally made some pretty stupid choices, just trying to find my way. I believe she and I knew each other in the premortal existence, and we both knew that we would have a profound effect on each other's lives on earth. But there she was in heaven, helpless to aid me, frustrated that I couldn't see my way, and how could she be there for me?

Then, she was. She totally was. Just when I needed her most, she came into my life. In the most unexpected way. She was the one. She brought me around. Because of her, I began the repentence process. Because of her, I finally read through all of the Book of Mormon on my own. Because of her, I came to accept and understand the Atonement of the Savior and his love for me. I learned to truly serve others, and to accept the service of others. Because of her, I was able to feel the Spirit, carrying me, comforting me, guiding me. I was able to say, probably for the first time in my life, "Not my will, Lord, but thine be done."

I love her for that. How can I not?

I was not as young as some girls are when they discover their life choices have led them to a place where their choices are no longer just about them, but now include a baby. But I was still very immature, and I knew it. When I realized I was going to have a baby, my first thought was that it was going to have to be adopted. I would be a terrible mother.

For the first time in my life, I started to make arrangements for what would need to be done. I had always had help before. My mother practically had to fill out college applications, scholarship paperwork, make phone calls for me, and anything else that might be considered "responsible" previous to this time. But I did it all on my own this time. I found a place to live. I started the repentence process with the bishop of my new ward. I contacted LDS Social Services to start an adoption plan. I found my own doctor.

I didn't tell my family anything about what I was doing. They thought I was just moving to Logan to get out of Blanding. To find a job and eventually go back to school.

I was five months along, when I told my family. It was tough, but not terrible. I felt good about the decision I had now made, and I believed they would support me. I knew they would be disappointed, but I never doubted their love. (Thank you, my dear family. I will love you always for your patience with me)

Cosette.

The agency that I went to while I was pregnant with Cosette was not exactly what I expected. I walked in the door telling them what I wanted to do with this baby. And they said, "Wait. Wait before you make any decision. Consider your options." That really bothered me. I knew what I wanted to do, so let me get on with it, I thought. They encouraged me to consider whether or not marriage was a possibility. Well, since I hadn't heard from the boyfriend since I told him (I think Tim had something to do with that--thanks, little brother), that didn't seem a possibility. And I knew deep down I did not want to marry him anyway. Think about single parenting, they told me. Why??? Ugh, I know what I want. Wait, step back. Okay, maybe I should listen to them. Maybe I really should weigh my options, write down the pros and cons to each, pray about it.

So, I did. And I always felt right about my first choice, adoption. But I am glad that I received confirmation from the Holy Ghost that this was the right choice. I am grateful that as painful as my life was in the months after she was born, when letters could not come fast enough, and information was way too limited, I NEVER regretted my decision. I owned it. I knew the choice I had made, and I held to it. I believed, and I know the Spirit witnessed to me, that the little girl I held for 9 months and 2 days belonged to the family she is now with.

I am so grateful for the time I had with her. I am so glad that because of her, I finally learned how to really take care of myself. I am grateful that because of her, I got to have a relationship with her dear, sweet parents, who loved me so much. Who prayed for me in my struggles, when I didn't even realize how I was struggling. They helped me overcome my trials and move on. I love them, and I miss that relationship today.

Someday I hope I can meet with her again, and really thank her in words that she can hopefully now understand. I hope she can know that she was my angel. I pray we will be friends again.

She Inspires Me--Kimberly Hurst Glover

Sorry about the picture. Those of you who follow my blog may have noticed, I have added a couple buttons on my sidebar. I just discovered some lovely websites about adoption, and I had to share. But more on that later. And you will see, this post has two parts, because I will be addressing the other "woman" who inspires me relating to this same experience in my life. This is a topic I have been wanting to cover for months, but I hadn't found the right way to do it.

Here we are, it is officially Adoption Awareness Month, and the perfect opportunity for me to express my gratitude for some awesome women in my life.

A little shout out here for Kristy Black who inadvertantly led me to these sites, which inspired me to get serious about posting about this very important part of my life experience.

There are so many reasons Kimberly Hurst Glover is inspirational to me, I could not possibly name them all. Today, I choose to focus on the time she was my friend and birth coach, 15 years ago when I was 19 years old, single, secretly pregnant and planning to place my baby for adoption.

Where do I begin? The first person I told (other than birth daddy--we won't go into that) was my brother, and he of course told his new fiance, Kim. So she was one of the first to know, and she was literally with me all the way. Since I lived in Logan, away from the rest of my family, the two of them were my total support system there.

Kim helped me go to the doctor, and she attended LDS Family Services support groups with me. She helped me find a place to live when the roommate situation didn't work out for me. She kept me entertained during many long days, letting me visit her while she worked at a babysitting job. Oh, Kim. She helped me fall in love with Diet Coke and peanut butter sandwiches. She laughed with me when friends who didn't know any better set me up on a date. (I was a tiny pregnant lady--only that one time, though). She literally took care of me.

And I am sure all she really wanted to do was enjoy being engaged to my sweet brother. They even put off their wedding for my sake. Looking back now, I can believe that must have been tough for them. But a sacrifice willingly given by my future sister-in-law. I love you so much, Kim.

And a memory of that time that stands out so strongly in my mind:

We had gone to the hospital. I was in labor. Man, that was nearly the only time I got to experience what it was like to go into labor on my own. But that's irrelevant to this story. I was sure the nurses would turn me away, but they said I could stay. A couple hours later with the epidural taking full effect--I digress again, but what I wouldn't give to have gotten to partake of that pain-free experience for the delivery of my own five kids--we called some friends to come and give me a priesthood blessing.

I don't remember the words. I can't even honestly say I remember the feeling. But I do remember what my beautiful future sister-in-law said right after the blessing. She said she was impressed by how strong the Spirit was in that little labor and delivery room. And I missed it.

That has always struck me. Was it because the Spirit had been watching over me during that whole blessed experience, the pregnancy, the adoption process? Did I simply take it for granted? Or was it that I was so consumed with myself that I did not recognize that wonderful gift of the Holy Ghost, surrounding me, waiting for me to receive it? I always wonder about that.

So, the thing about this fabulous lady, Kimberly Glover, that inspires me the most, is her ability to recognize the Spirit. May I always be in tune enough to recognize this unique blessing in my life, as she was then in that remarkable time in both of our lives.

I have to add that of course this wonderful woman also inpires me because of her strength in overcoming the MANY adversities involved with infertility issues and the process of adopting her second and third child. I know for her, it has not always been easy to keep the faith, but I LOVE that she has. And I absolutely love her, more than she can possibly know.