cc: file, Sara and Des, Diane Cluff, Tony Hafen, Darrell and Nancy Krueger, Eric and Annette Krueger, Eric and Renee Miner, Claude and Katherine Warner, Forest and Amy Warner, and Ivan and Chell Warner.
"Postscript on the deer hunt: (1) Cedar stopped letting kids out of school on the first Monday of the deer hunt a couple of years ago; (2) it must have been Claude Warner's kids who were talking about getting out of school down at Bloomington; and (3) Bridget's good friend Brook Leavitt got her first deer on Saturday. Her and her family were very pleased. It was fun to see her enthusiasm.
The trip to Utah over the deer hunt did not turn out like I expected it would. These days I often ask myself if anything will ever turn out like I expect. I flew to Salt Lake Friday morning. Worked at the SCI lab getting data loaded and well files typed in until Friday evening. That night I went to the Centennial celebration of the Mormon Coral Symphony in the Tabernacle. Because I had stayed up most of Thursday night I left at intermission and went to the Travel Lodge on North Temple and went to sleep. Worked Saturday at the University of Utah until about 5:00 PM. We did not get near as far as I hoped. There were problems with the prototype software which is being used and it took Yardin all day Saturday and Sunday to debug the issues. I was at Sara and Des' house a little before 9:00, after one stop in the desert between Delta and Milford to scream at the wolves, and one stop in Minersville to get gasoline. I was going to go to St. George and stay with Grandma, but Sara and Des invited me to go see `Seven Years in Tibet' with them and when I called Grandma she had just turned out the lights to go to sleep. So I stayed in Cedar. Sunday I ate breakfast with Des, visited Katherine Warner and kids, went to church in Bloomington with Aunt Luana, visited Grandma Hafen, took Mom to dinner at Hun-Nan, and went to the last of the 1997 Orchestra of Southern Utah Recital Series with Des. Went to bed early so I could get up at 4:30 and drive back to Salt Lake so I could be at the University by 9:00 AM.
>p>When I got up, there was a note for me in the bathroom saying e-mail had come from SCI saying the bug had been fixed. There was also a bag of Southern Utah Pine Nuts. I think all of you kids have eaten Pine Nuts this time of the year. This thoughtful gift from my sister has become a really nice, and very much appreciated, gesture of love. There were a lot of Pine Nuts, and I do not leave a solid trail of shells at 30 mph (nor at 80 mph). However, I pulled the last handful of Pine Nuts out of the bag as I reached Eureka, and was finished before I turned up the road in back of Utah Lake. I imagine this will seem wierd, especially to Melanie and Sara, but I seldom turn the radio on during my 4 hour drives between Salt Lake and Cedar City and back to Salt Lake. This is my thinking time. A time when I can strive to figure out what has happened to my life and where I need to be going. I thought I would use this weeks Thoughtlet to try to reconstruct the kind of thoughts I have when I am alone like this. There is, of course, no way any of you will ever know about these times unless I tell you. They have been some of the most healing and inspiriational times of my life. I remember how wierd the guys at Landmark thought it was for me to volunteer to drive to New Orleans, to Atlanta, to Dallas, or to other places around the country to (1) save money on plane fare, and (2) have time to think through things and get some of the clutter out of my mind.As I left Cedar at 5:00 AM, I thought about the farm and wondered how the fields looked. It was still dark outside. I could see there were streaks of slobber and Pine Nut shells on the slightly opened driver's window, and I could not see much beyond the car except in the headlights. As I start or end one of these trips, driving thought the desert at 75-80 mph, I often wonder if there is a deer or an antalope or a cow waiting for me around one of the bends. I usually dismiss these thoughts as fast as they come up with `And should we die, before our journey's through, Happy Day! All is well! We then are free from toil and sorrow to, with the just we shall dwell. But if our lives are spared again, to see the saints their rest obtain, Oh, how we'll make this chorus swell, All is well! All is Well!'
This particular drive I started by thinking about the recital the night before. I pictured my sister playing the violin and sitting with Elaine Braithwaite on the viola, Bridget on the cello, and Valerie Olson playing the piano. I recalled the graceful movement of her hands and fingers as she played a complicated piece by Robert Schumann. I gloried in the femininity of her in a beautiful light blue dress and delicately bowing her violin. It was a moment of pride in the accomplishments of my sister, and a realization of how well she has grown up. There was no comparison, there was just a moment of deep personal joy. As I ate the Pine Nuts she gave me it brought tears to my eyes to think someone as special as she is could care for me, especially after the way I beat her up when we were children. It gave me hope for Rob and Sara. As I relived the recital against the sound of the engine driving the gray rental Nisson through the desert by Parowan Gap, I realized how much I had enjoyed being there with Des to watch Sara and Bridget.
Then I thought of some of the other numbers. The trombone solo where there were little kids in front of me literally dancing in their seat to keep up with the beat of a Henry Filmore number. Then I thought about the comments of one of the performers who talked about `Into the Woods,' her favorite Broadway Musical. I thought about how I had felt after seeing this musical in New York with your Mom. It is a musical about several of the fairy tales, taking up after the Prince puts the glass slipper on Cinderella and setting out to destroy any illusions we might have had about `living happily ever after.' I thought about Princes Di, her trip into the woods after a fairy tale wedding, her tragic death, and all of the women I have been meeting who bring this icon up as a justification for their own unhappiness. After all, if Princess Di ... .
Then I got to the little town of Minersville, and I wondered if I had enough gasoline to get to Delta. I thought of these little towns 50 years ago, and wondered what they would be like in 50 years. I thought of Roice's last e-mail:
I didn't have those words with me, but I recalled the joy I felt in Roice's letter describing his project. I wondered if the stuff Mic and TJ and I have talked about would ever be implemented to turn these little towns like Minnersville and Milford into domed biospheres. When I got to Milford I stopped and got gasoline and a bottle of orange juice.
As I pulled out of Minersville, my mind went back to Sara and Des' house. I thought about playing a Scrabble like game with them and Bridget and Brian on Sunday night after the concert. Bridget beat us really bad. It was a lot of fun, and I wished I could redo your childhoods with more games, more family time, and frankly more Family Home Evenings. I wondered why I havn't heard much from Ben and Sarah. As I drove down into the first valley past the hydrothermal electric plant road north of Milford, there were three deer standing by the side of the road and I thought of the night Paul hit the deer by Ft. Stockton. I was pleased with how I had handled that crisis, even if I am not satisified with how other things have turned out. Then I thought of Melanie's mail, which I received just before leaving for Utah. She said:
I thought about how proud I am of each of you kids. I thought about how worried I am about Sara and her reactions to and relationship with me. I thought about Rob and how fun it has been to have him come and stay with me the last few weeks.
I thought about my Mom, about how unhappy she is, and how much she has enjoyed reading `The Work and The Glory.' For those who don't know, this is a historical novel of the founding of the church. Mom's questions about the veracity of the events protrayed showed that she does not have a very good foundation in early church history. She has enjoyed the books, and says Volume 5 is her favorite so far. Each book is several hundred pages and Volume 8 comes out next month. I thought about Grandma Hafen and about her description of how she had to get down on the floor to pin up the foot pedels on her little loom in order to be able to do the weaving she is working on. She waited until the ladies were coming down the walkway cleaning rooms before she got down so they would get there and could help her get up if she couldn't get up herself. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we all took the time to plan she is forced by age and health to take to plan. I thought about the trials of age, and wondered how well I will handle them, if I make it that far. Then I got to the turn-off where I have got in the habit of stopping to get rid of some of my frustrations and anger with a scream and did so. Aunt Sara tells me she doesn't need that outlet because she just plays her violin. She did also say how much she enjoyed going to the High School Homecoming Football game because it provides a publically acceptable forum for screaming. PAIRS taught me screaming is good for releaving stress. You each might try it when you find yourself cornered.
As I got back in the car my thoughts wandered to a new book I had picked up at Deseret Books on Friday and had started reading that night. It starts off with the quotes: `When President David O. McKay instructed us that "no other success can compensate for failure in the home," he spoke an absolute truth. He did not say, almost no success can compensate for failure in the home. When President Harold B. Lee taught that "The greatest of the Lord's work [that you] will ever do ... will be within the walls of our own home," he taught an absoutely true doctrine. No exceptions, no qualifiers.' As I felt like a failure, speeding through the desert south of Delta, I found great comfort cracking, shelling, and eating Pine Nuts. As I drove through Delta, there were several deer hunters on the road, getting ready for the sunrise and the beginning of another day of the hunt. It was about this time when I had one of those really special moments of my life. It was a direct answer to a prayer often repeated over the last year. It was like words were planted in my mind and in my heart which gave me a feeling of serinity and hope and a recognition of how much my Savior loves me, even if I have failed in my marriage. The words which came to my mind were, `Yes, it is true that no success in life can compensate for failure in the home. It is also true that you have not failed in your home. Look at your kids and how well they each are doing. Failure in marriage does not mean failure in your home. It takes two to make a marriage work, and if one partner gives up, it does not mean the other partner has failed! Nor does failure in your marriage mean you have failed in your home. Don't give up.'
Kids, I wish I knew how to put in words how strongly and how firmly I know there is a being outside myself and outside our physical reality. I know God lives. I know He and His Son, Jesus Christ, love me. I hope and pray you will each come to this same knowledge. I recognize, as Micheal Romig said today in his homecoming talk, `there is a difference between being convinced and the change within that happens when you are truly converted. I, like Alma the Elder praying for his Son and the King's sons, pray you will each become converted. I want you each to know I will always love you, whether you make this step or not.
As I drove into Eureka and down the other side of the mountian, there was a feeling of peace which enveloped me. It is the peace which only comes through our Savior. Even though the Pine Nuts were gone, as the sun came up, painting the sky red, and reflecting on Utah Lake, I was truly content for the first time in many months, and possibly many years. There was a beauty I had tried to capture in words 24 years before when I wrote:
The work at the University did not go as well as anticipated. I was only able to work there until about 6:00 PM and did not have the results I was hoping to achieve. There was a couple of hours work with Ed Gray, and we had an opportunity to talk in some depth. He is a good guy and a good friend. I hope you each have one or two friends who care as much as Ed does. What results were accomplished were forwarded to my Sun workstation in Houston via ftp. I went downtown and ate clam chowder in a sourdough bread roll, read, and hit the sack. I went through the 6:30 AM endowment session in the Salt Lake Temple Tuesday morning, to thank Heavenly Father for Monday morning, in His house. Then I spent the rest of the morning in the Salt Palace at the GSA (Geological Society of America) Annual Convention. It is more of a convention for teachers and researchers than for geoscientists involved with significant economic extraction. As I flew back to Houston Tuesday afternoon, and went to RePAIRS Tuesday evening, I thought about the traps, the treacherous path, the Pine Nuts to nourish us along the way, and life goals, which are so wonderfully symbolized for me through temple work. I hope you will each find such a `rock' for your lives and will `hold to the iron rod' leading to this `tree of life.'"