This year I did something I have been dreaming of for 7 years...
We watched family home movies.
And not just any home movies. Ones that I have spent days and days creating.
I took our whole 2014 and edited small clips into monthly videos with music.
By the end, we were all wishing there were 20 more.
Patrick and I were both crying...especially since we ended by watching our Ranch vacation.
There really aren't words to describe the magic I felt in my heart as I watched my whole world on the big screen...it left me awestruck of just how perfect my life really is.
And next year, I hope to have not only 2015 chronicled in family movies, but 2008 as well.
It may not be much, but to me, this represents a gigantic part of the legacy I want to leave for my family...a compilation of all our memories, traditions, and small and simple moments.
It's like a birthday celebration for my blog and it's so fun to reflect on where this blog came from and the journey it's taken me on.
Back in 2008 Patrick created this blog as a little experiment. We had heard of several friends who had a blog, but I was a little skeptical and didn't really feel the desire to begin blogging. Plus, I found it completely overwhelming and had no idea how to post or do ANYTHING! Patrick posted a few pictures of Easton (who was just a baby) and that was that. For months I forgot all about it. But then, sometime during the year I started creating Smileboxes and so I would post a smilebox on the blog so others could watch our slideshow of pictures. And for a long while, this is mostly all our blog consisted of. But eventually, I abandoned the smilebox idea and began the laborious work of going back and updating all of our old posts with the pictures that were on the smileboxes. I felt so rewarded when it was finally done.
As time went on, I came to the realization that this blog was the perfect way for me to record our family history. And so an overarching purpose for my blog was born and it has been so ever since. This blog is written to us; it's an account of all our memories, so when I am old, I can look back and read the life we lived together. Because I know I will forget all the moments. And if I don't take a picture, or journal, or blog, it will soon be erased from my memory.
And so I continue to blog. And I probably always will, until my children are grown and gone...but then there will be grandkids. :) So perhaps I never will be done, (unless a better option of recording family history is introduced.)
Lately I have been sorting out the balance of what to include where and on which blog. A few years back I started a few more blogs with the intention of writing frequently on them. But like I've done many times in the past, I overestimated the amount of time I would have to devote to the cause and 3 of them fell by the wayside. These three seemed disconnected and often prevented me from writing on this blog many of my thoughts and daydreams and meditations.
So after praying about it (we are to counsel with the Lord in all our doings, right?) I decided to merge those three blogs into this one and import all of the posts. I will do so later today. Then this blog can contain almost everything. Quest for Happiness will always remain open, because if when I ever do become an author, I want a place to direct my readers that is separate from my family blog. My photography blog will always be there to house all of my client's photoshoots, and of course, I will always have my personal journal. And so while this blog doesn't contain all of my musings (found on Quest for Happiness) or all of my personal writings (a journal is the best place to keep such personal writings), this blog, "Familia Johnson Chronicles" is "alive and breathing" to accomplish the following purposes:
Keep our Family's History. I will continue to document the moments and the milestones. The trips and the memories from day-to-day. The holidays and the small traditions. The portraits, the hobbies, the birthday tributes, and most of all, the PICTURES!
Record the shapings of my yearly themes. By doing this, I receive a focus for my year and have different ways to blog each year. In the past I've done things like, Magical Memories and Moments on Monday. This year I will be showcasing many of the "connection" memories we enjoy. I will be posting lots of children's activities and Family Home Evening's we have done to document how connection shapes our year and our hearts.
Encourage, inspire, and uplift. I am a writer; I suppose I always will be. And my favorite thing to write are words of encouragement that I have gleaned or learned from others. While most of these things are recorded on Quest for Happiness, occasionally I post things on this blog too.
Mix in a small dose of me--my personality, feelings, passions, moods, random thoughts, crafts, recipes, books, and snippets of whimsy. Some days are rosy, others are not. But since I am the primary contributor of this blog, hopefully I can present an honest view of me--who I truly am.
So, dear "Familia Johnson Chronicles," thank you for all of the places you've taken me and for all that you've taught me. Thank you for helping me refine my talents of writing and photography and thank you for letting me spill onto you all the things that are overflowing in my heart.
This song describes my life so perfectly. Like to a tee. But just like the girl in this song, after spending years dreaming of paradise, I have learned that paradise is right here, wherever I am, even if I'm lying underneath the stormy skies--knowing that the sun will set and rise on a brand new day.
I don't remember when this lesson really started to sink in, but when I first heard this song early this year I knew that it completely summarized the principle I had been learning to live--that of enjoying the moment, finding the jewel in each day, and learning to be happy and content in every circumstance. It's the epitome of thanksliving and believing that the Lord's graces and tender mercies are all around. This song sums up what I have been becoming the last three years with yearly themes.
Looking back, I feel that I've left a part of my heart in every "paradise" I've lived in. The little red brick house that always appeared to me to have a face was where I grew up. It will always hold the nostalgia and sweet memories of innocent childhood. It was the place I laughed, loved, and grew my testimony. It represents that idyllic sunshiney phase of life to which I so often wish to return....even just for a day. I can't even drive by this house anymore or my heart hurts. It's so sad for me to see other cars parked in the driveway, the playhouse and cherry trees gone, the beautiful log fences that my dad so lovingly built, in ruins. And I've looked at those "window eyes" and felt like the home is calling out to me to come back and live there again. I can't think about it too much without getting too sad, so I choose to preserve it in my memory as the happy place it once was and not the place it now is.
Then there was Portugal, the place where more than half my heart still resides, and always will. That home, that epic seems so much like a dream to me nearly 10 years later. I was a princess in that home, or so it felt. And while the challenges there were more daunting than the years before, it was a very sacred and hallowed time for me. It was there that I found out who I really was and who I was going to strive to become. (And though I didn't know it at the time, it was there that I met the missionary who would one day become my sweetheart for time and all eternity.) Was Portugal Paradise? Truly. There's no better word to describe it.
My little apartment in Colonial House while attending BYU-Idaho was fleeting and trying. I only owned one half of a tiny bedroom, but it was a haven to me where I studied, wrote the feelings of my heart, and talked for endless hours to my family in Portugal and Patrick who was attending school 400 miles away. I know there is a piece of my heart still there.
The next house was our first together as husband and wife. University Courtyard #602 was more like a hallway, perhaps a "closet under the stairs." But it was beautiful and the perfect place to begin our married lives together. It was in that little one bedroom apartment that we learned how to rely on the Lord and each other for just about everything. It was only a sojourn for 9 months, but still long enough to plant a part of my heart there as well.
Hill's Cottage, tucked away in a quiet place was so idyllic. We brought both Easton and Tate home from the hospital to this beloved sanctuary. It was more than 100 years old, but the 3 bedroom home was paradise to us, even with the purple holey carpet and sinking toilet. I loved that home as much as I've ever loved a home. It felt like it was ours, especially since we spent two years in its shelter. Whenever my mind travels back to this house, all I feel is peace and tranquility. It was a heaven on earth. It was there that we taught Easton to walk and where I spent so many hours and weeks and months learning how to become a mother. It was all so new and adventurous and challenging. It was one of the sweetest times in my memory. There we invited family home evening groups over from the singles ward where Patrick was serving, to have a lesson, game, and refreshments nearly every Monday. I loved that home and was so sad to leave. The only happy part about leaving was knowing we were moving on to graduate school and another adventure.
Our next abode, a basement apartment was smaller than the cottage before, but warm and cozy. We hunkered down in there for 3 years with intermittent moves to do internships. It was there we grew closer than ever before to my sweet grandparents, Gram and Pop. We were at their house nearly every day, playing, laughing, and making cherished memories. It was there I was taught by a good friend how to paint and distress furniture, bargain shop, and decorate my home in an authentic way that I love. It was there that I learned how to love and play with and nurture two growing, crazy, darling boys. It was there Patrick completed his academic schooling for physical therapy school, and it was there that we felt it was time for Maylie to join us. The ward we were part of was so good to us and we still miss them so dearly. I think a part of our heart will always be there.
Our last abode before our final stop was in our farmhouse cottage. It fulfilled my lifelong dream to live in an old, renovated farmhouse. It was our first home that we had all to ourselves, even though we were still renting. The boys played and slept in the loft, rode their bikes in the spacious yard, and we enjoyed the roomy bathroom that was bigger than some of our previous bedrooms. The area we lived in was picturesque and serene. Farmlands everywhere, with our home bordering the foothills of the high, tall mountains. There were times when I thought this would be our resting place, but somehow the Lord led us on. And even though we spent a year here, it seemed like only a few months. The time flew and Maylie turned 1 just yesterday and we're leaving tomorrow. And as I close this chapter, I feel a big part of my heart will always reside in this sweet little town. For it was here that I overcame dark days of dreariness, enjoy each and every moment, let truths sink deeply into my heart, and was given a special gift from Heavenly Father--the desire to play with and be with my sweet little ones for all their waking hours. I look back and can't believe how far I've come. How far we've all come, really. Life has soared on wings of eagles and no matter how hard I wish it to slow, it only increases velocity. And now, it's time to close this chapter and welcome the one ahead. Ironically, as a side note, as I walked through our new home yesterday afternoon to check the progress, "Paradise" was playing on the radio...
And so with this reflection on where we've come, I realize that each of our homes have been a unique paradise in their own way. Paradise is a state of the heart, not a geographical location. It is thisI have learned.
And just like the others before it, this, this could be paradise.
...And now for the clips that inspired this post, "Paradise" by Coldplay and "Peponi" by the Piano Guys. These have been my two favorite songs this year. It's so amazing to me how music can speak to us in ways that nothing else can. Enjoy...
P.S. The video that accompanies Peponi is INCREDIBLE.
Can it be? Easton has really started school and is loving every minute of it. Each night before he goes to bed, he lays out his clothes in a neat little line in the order of how he will put them on the next day: underwear, shorts, shirt, socks, shoes, and backpack. But I'm getting ahead of myself....
Monday was a taxingly busy day. We had a back-to-school party and so I spent most of the day making preparations for the evenings activities...and dodging a mouse. He scared me half to death when I walked in the kitchen and he darted under the dishwasher. I didn't even know what to do. I thought we were done with mice in our last abode. But alas, the mouse hunt began again. Later, as we were doing the dishes and I was explaining what had happened to Patrick, the mouse came scampering out from under the fridge and ran right between my feet. I screamed so loud that the mouse jumped inside the dishwasher, jumped back out, and ran under the dishwasher again. So we set up 4 mouse traps all in a line in front of the dishwasher and left the house to get a cat. When we came back a few hours later, the mouse was caught, and we had a new kitten which we affectionately named, Cougar...after our favorite BYU team...and because she's a golden color.
At dinner, Easton was the king of kindergarten and used "the golden plate" (and cup and bowl) for our feast.
This tradition of using the golden plate stems from my growing up days and we finally got a golden place setting (thank you Mom :) We feasted on ham & bean soup and golden wheat rolls.
While we were eating we had a lesson on David and Goliath and the boys opened a little present--5 small stones laced together to put in their special boxes. The stones will remind them of the faith we must have in our Savior to face our challenges, and the testimony that Heavenly Father will always deliver us in some way from our trials.
After the mouse and kitten escapade was over, Easton tried on his clothes for the next day and did a fashion show for us while dancing to "Cello Wars." I have it all on video. :) Then right before bed we had gingersnap "Kissing Hand" cookies with milk while I read to my little sweeties one of my favorite books, "The Kissing Hand." Patrick and I each kissed one of Easton's hands and then he kissed ours in return. The funny thing is, he had us kiss different sides...so when he puts his hands to his face to "feel our kisses," he looks rather silly. He's darling and such a good boy. I'm so blessed to be his mother.
And though we ran ourselves crazy, I felt that our back-to-school feast was a big success. I can't wait for next year already!
On Monday night Patrick gave us the most meaningful family home evening lesson ever. It was all about building our lives, our testimonies, and our foundations on the rock of our Redeemer (see Helaman 5:12). He brought us home a rock & sand from our lot and we had our lesson on the front porch.
Then we drove to our lot and picked out a rock for each one of us to remind us of the lesson.
I can't wait for the follow-up lesson when we have the concrete foundation poured and we can truly teach our boys what it means to build on a rock...just like the wise man.
Yes, it's finally here. Our very own house is officially started! We broke ground Friday, July 27th, 2012. The wind was blowing dust everywhere up on our hill, but it didn't matter. This day will go down in history for our little family as a day of beginning.
Patrick honored us with the first shovelful and Tate, Easton, and I followed suit. Little Maylie-girl watched from her stroller.
Then the beautiful teal Track-hoe dug in and we watched in awe.
To think, that one day, our house will rest on this bare, weedy lot. It's inspiring.
