What do YOU do in the summertime,
when all the world is green?
One of the blessings of summer is thinking SLOWER, with deadlines of school and projects distant, while morning rays beckon a leisurely walk hand in hand in cool breezes.
Memories distil upon the tender recognizing of transitions and passages.
Past collided with the present when a forever friend from second grade texted me to tell me that her mom (our mom's fast friend from New England) passed away, with plans to be buried the same day that our sister Carma will be interred in the Paris, Idaho cemetery.)
Pondering, as friends prepare to welcome eternity,
as dear ones slip away, we bid goodbye, with light and glimmers from yesteryear which flash scenes: of small fingers snapping pole beans, 
forking cucumbers bathed in sour cream,
and brisk mother-hands scrubbing soap and bubbles in "head washes."
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Tippy claimed children of a soulmate to be her own. And she whisked beauty in her wake—crocheting vests in patriotic hue, crafting flower girl dress into baptism dress. teaching tow-head listeners, pointing to a crocheted “comforter” to symbolize the warmth and balm of another Comforter, One that requires effort and focus and choice to “receive.”
“What does God look like?” Eight-year-old eyes peered up to her Sunday school teacher, gathering and garnering truths in the entryway of the women’s restroom in the basement of a rented Sanford Maine Elks Hall.
Tippy’s answer? “If you get there first, tell us!”
With tables turned and Sister Tippy taking a leading leap into the unknown, we can ask: “What does heaven look like?”
And we wonder, will it continue to unfold as we try to live the things that we have learned and are learning with teachers like Tippy?
(Does anyone else have a grandchild or loved one who surpasses all you ever taught them?)
What if we watch as talents pass from generation to generation with a little attention and effort? (see Psalm 145:4 and Revelation 5:5)
More memories were made in June, waking in
the guest bedroom of sister Carma’s home to a painting of a mountain lake on
the wall entreating us to “Climb Every Mountain!” 
These could be words to offer an eldest granddaughter on the brink of new horizons,
Games, meals, receptions, ceremonies, and visits always add garnish to graduation time.
Light from radiant locks mirrored a granddaughter’s smile, as we congratulated this starring “young widow” in a gothic manor melodrama mystery, garbed with Pride and Prejudice attire,
What will we do today to better learn Shakespeare’s words, “What ere thou art, act well thy part”?
At an end of May memorial service for 91-year-old Uncle’s Laurence’s sweetheart, Aunt Alice, from Quincy, Florida, our cousin painted a picture of his mother standing strong in her faith amid others with less than understanding eyes. At age 18, she set out on a 2,000-mile journey, unattended and alone, changing trains and stations between Florida and Utah, where she met Uncle Laurence, whom she married and companioned from California to Wyoming to Germany, Russia and beyond, raising eight children, and
nurturing missionaries.
Our grandson recently returned from a Brigham Young University youth camp, to remind me of a message from 2 Kings 6:16:
“They that be with us are more than they that be with them"!
So, in what ways can our mountain walks be accompanied?
As I ushered my elder brother to his airplane from Alice’s funeral, we stopped to visit Tippy’s daughter, in a nearby city.
We reviewed New England dialect to celebrate our dad’s birthday: “If Dad is going to do something wonderful [to use “Nah Hampsha” vernacular] it will have to be “wicked smaht!” (Wicked smart, pronounced with long "ah" and short “r.”)
As our grandchildren have counted 1300 entries of memories entered into Family Search and embark on efforts to edit Aunt Carma’s poems, we pray for loved ones
setting forth toward summer adventures to entertain some happier adjectives --
what if we try delightful, intelligent, interesting, and blessed?
And if you find heaven first, will you pull us through? Love, Laurene and Val
