Friday dawned clear, bright and beautiful.
Today Brent and I put flowers on graves of two of the most wonderful women we knew...
our mothers.
It is hard to believe that we lost them only two years apart.
It is hard to believe we lost them to difficult and ugly diseases.
It is hard to believe that Maddison, Davis and Cooper will not have their physical love to grow up with.
But it is a beautiful thing to know that they are whole again and that Heavenly Father's plan is true and eternal.
Brent's mom is buried in Clinton, Utah. My mom is buried up Logan Canyon in Mendon, along with her parents and other family. It is a truly beautiful spot and sits right at the foot of the mountain. Won't Resurrection morning be glorious for my mom!
Also in that cemetery is James G. Willie, Captain of the Willie Handcart Co. If I go three generations past my Grandpa Stauffer's name (my mom's dad) on the pedigree chart, there is James G. It is very humbling to know my ancestors paved a very brave and selfless path for me and my children. We are lucky to have faith building pioneer heritage on Brent's side as well. As a matter of fact, just a few generations down Joyce's line is the name Thomas Steed. We have his journal entries of when he was asked by the prophet Brigham Young to go out and rescue the exhausted and desperate people in the Willie Handcart Co.
It makes my heart very happy to know that Brent and I have a story that connects one hundred and thirty five years before our marriage in 1991.
I'm sure that since their meeting in heaven eight months ago, mom and Joyce have chatted and laughed and hugged about it too.
And it's all bound together forever because of these beautiful edifices that dot the earth.
We sat in the cool shade of the Logan temple today and felt gratitude for many, many blessings.
We enjoyed an ice cream on Utah State's campus. I ordered a Carmel Cashew, just like I said I would so that I could make a fair and completely unbiased judgement.
Both had large pieces of yummy cashews and a good amount to boot. This is VERY important to me. If you claim to have something in your ice cream, I want to see it and sink my teeth into it. Often ice cream will say they have chucks of this or that or swirled with this or the other, only to discover that it's just tiny flakes or fragments of whatever they are claiming and you taste it once or twice in a scoop. Such disappointment!! Anyway, I digress...
The pieces were often whole or complete halves of this creamy nut. A hint of salt was perfect.
That is where the similarities end.
The ice cream itself at the Aggie parlor was carmel flavor. It was okay but the texture was not real smooth and a bit icy. The ice cream under the Y was vanilla with gobs of carmel-ly (I'm making up words here) goodness mixed in.
Gobs of goodness! I like the way I said that.
And the texture was smooth and creamy. No icy bits. And the generous amount of chunky cashews put it over the top. And now excuse me while I get in the car and make a quick drive to the Creamery on Ninth for a scrumptious scoop of Carmel Cashew ice cream. Back in a flash...
I wish.
We ended the day with a stop for dinner at Maddox. I've posted about this lovely place before. After all, it is the home of the world's finest beef. That's gotta put a smile on your face.
This time we took the kids. It was a first for them. It was so fun to see them enjoy REALLY good food. The fluffy, dreamy rolls kept everyone happy while we waited for our dinner. Maddie surprised me by diving into a bowl of creamy, dreamy clam chowder. And I had their spicy, dreamy fresh shrimp and crab appetizer. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. My mouth is watering thinking of that horseradish cocktail sauce.
Succulent, dreamy prime rib for Brent and my Dad.
Juicy, dreamy hamburger for Davis.
Crunchy, dreamy fried chicken for Cooper.
Melt in your mouth, dreamy filet mignon for Maddie and myself.
Friday was a FABULOUS day in Utah.
