If you have ever seen the show Grey's Anatomy, you will know the special relationship that two characters have calling the other "thier person". The one they tell things to, share with, cry with, laugh with etc. They both have significant others, and they in now way shape or form take the place over that significant other, but they do have them....and I am so glad that I can be "a person" for one of my siblings- Russ. I hope he is not offended that I share this post about him.
We have always been close, him and I. Im not sure if it is due to age gap of 5 years (which is fairly significant when there are 6 of us in 8 years...). He is one of the calls that I make weekly and when we have not touched base with one another, we usually are reaching out to see what the heck is going on and why the breach of contract has occured. One such message tugged just a bit at my heartstrings the other day when I recieved the following on my phone.
"So I just got out of my phi beta kappa interview. Pretty cool. Only 100 out of 25,000 students get in. Im in the top 2% of my graduating class, so I got in. It's bittersweet though. My first thought was to tell Mom. I hate it when that happens. So im telling you. Call me when you can."
Unfortunately, this was not the only time I have received a message similar to this and it made me feel so fortunate to have such a brother that will let me be a substitute (albeit a very poor one) for our Mom and allow me to be "his person".
I am so proud of him for making it into Phi Beta Kappa. What a compliment to not only his academics, but his way with words (something that us Pedersons know a little bit about....) So I guess my question for myself today was, have I let "my person"now just how much I need and appreciate them. How 'bout you?
Monday, March 19, 2012
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Journal Jar Post
Q: How did you become engaged?
A: This is quite a loaded question...So feel free to get up for a snack or some water as you read-but a story that I never get tired of sharing. Involving a boy, a girl and A LOT of airline miles....
I have to give the background to better understand our story. So here goes! I met Artyom in January of 1998 while I was serving a mission in Russia. I first met his parents and were close with them before I went on to meet thier son. We became friends on the mission and that was that. Then in the summer of 2000 I traveled to Europe and backpacked he Western side and went to visit Russia. Artyom and I were able to hang out a bit and get to know one another...seeing me in shorts and pants instead of a skirt was a bit different i am sure. Artyom told me he was going on a mission, which I thought was great. We both felt something I think, and Artyom was raising questions that made me wonder if he was leading up to something more, but I was currently dating someone back in Utah and did not really think twice about it. Good luck on your mission, see you around, blah, blah, blah.
I kept in contact with him while he was on his mission (truth be told he was MUCH better at writing letters than i was...) and called his parents from time to time to get updates. During this time Mom passed away and I quit writing as frequently. So I figured that was that...yet again!
I knew Artyom was coming home soon, because he was coming home about the same time as my brother Paul was. That started the thought in my head, and then one night I had a dream about him. He was there, nothing too significant that I can remember, but I had the feeling to call. So, being the coward I was at that time, I decided to call a mutual friend of ours and see when his release date was. I called Kolya, who told me that he was indeed home and I needed to call him. I called Artyom and it took me a few minutes to realize that he was speaking ENGLISH! Something he did NOT do when I knew him in Russia. We talked for quite some time and as the story goes, we said we would call about once a month, then that turned into once every few weeks, once a week and soon, I was breaking it off with the current guy I was dating, and planning a trip to see him in Russia.
I specifically remember when we knew that a trip was needed. He asked me one day why I had decided to call him. I was a bit hesitant to say, "I had a dream..." because 1)Russians are very superstitious and 2) did not want it to sound too "after school special-ish". But I did and he grew very quiet. When we probed one another a bit more, it did not sound "after school special-ish" at all. At the same time that I had my dream, he had been praying and fasting for an answer on what do to and who (if anyone) he should marry. He was struggling and needed some direction...and then I called.
The 2nd trip I made out to see him I backpacked Eastern Europe and this time around, we had an agenda. we still had to get to know each other but we were both on the same page. We knew this would take awhile, so we decided to try for a visitors visa, which we were denied for...twice. I was heart broken and decided to travel out to see him one more time "all or nothin".
It was New Year's Eve and Artyom and I were having a bunch of the youth over at his house for a big party. It was very late and after a bunch of games, food and fun, they wanted to play "just one more game".
I was so tired that when we got picked to go into the other room to wait, I was complaining to Artyom that I really did not want to play the game, but just go to bed. Well, I got pulled out of the small kitchen and into the small room. All the youth I knew on my mission were in a long row and were holding up papers that said "WILL YOU MARRY ME". It took me a second to figure it out and then I remember yelling, "Are you kidding me?!", hitting Artyom and trying to run out of the room. A ring was presented and I said yes. One of the best decisions I have ever made.
11 months later we were married in the Portland, Oregon Temple. THAT is another story in itelf. The joys of marrying a foreigner and all it involves. But were here, were staying here, and we were worth every bit.
A: This is quite a loaded question...So feel free to get up for a snack or some water as you read-but a story that I never get tired of sharing. Involving a boy, a girl and A LOT of airline miles....
I have to give the background to better understand our story. So here goes! I met Artyom in January of 1998 while I was serving a mission in Russia. I first met his parents and were close with them before I went on to meet thier son. We became friends on the mission and that was that. Then in the summer of 2000 I traveled to Europe and backpacked he Western side and went to visit Russia. Artyom and I were able to hang out a bit and get to know one another...seeing me in shorts and pants instead of a skirt was a bit different i am sure. Artyom told me he was going on a mission, which I thought was great. We both felt something I think, and Artyom was raising questions that made me wonder if he was leading up to something more, but I was currently dating someone back in Utah and did not really think twice about it. Good luck on your mission, see you around, blah, blah, blah.
I kept in contact with him while he was on his mission (truth be told he was MUCH better at writing letters than i was...) and called his parents from time to time to get updates. During this time Mom passed away and I quit writing as frequently. So I figured that was that...yet again!
I knew Artyom was coming home soon, because he was coming home about the same time as my brother Paul was. That started the thought in my head, and then one night I had a dream about him. He was there, nothing too significant that I can remember, but I had the feeling to call. So, being the coward I was at that time, I decided to call a mutual friend of ours and see when his release date was. I called Kolya, who told me that he was indeed home and I needed to call him. I called Artyom and it took me a few minutes to realize that he was speaking ENGLISH! Something he did NOT do when I knew him in Russia. We talked for quite some time and as the story goes, we said we would call about once a month, then that turned into once every few weeks, once a week and soon, I was breaking it off with the current guy I was dating, and planning a trip to see him in Russia.
I specifically remember when we knew that a trip was needed. He asked me one day why I had decided to call him. I was a bit hesitant to say, "I had a dream..." because 1)Russians are very superstitious and 2) did not want it to sound too "after school special-ish". But I did and he grew very quiet. When we probed one another a bit more, it did not sound "after school special-ish" at all. At the same time that I had my dream, he had been praying and fasting for an answer on what do to and who (if anyone) he should marry. He was struggling and needed some direction...and then I called.
The 2nd trip I made out to see him I backpacked Eastern Europe and this time around, we had an agenda. we still had to get to know each other but we were both on the same page. We knew this would take awhile, so we decided to try for a visitors visa, which we were denied for...twice. I was heart broken and decided to travel out to see him one more time "all or nothin".
It was New Year's Eve and Artyom and I were having a bunch of the youth over at his house for a big party. It was very late and after a bunch of games, food and fun, they wanted to play "just one more game".
I was so tired that when we got picked to go into the other room to wait, I was complaining to Artyom that I really did not want to play the game, but just go to bed. Well, I got pulled out of the small kitchen and into the small room. All the youth I knew on my mission were in a long row and were holding up papers that said "WILL YOU MARRY ME". It took me a second to figure it out and then I remember yelling, "Are you kidding me?!", hitting Artyom and trying to run out of the room. A ring was presented and I said yes. One of the best decisions I have ever made.
11 months later we were married in the Portland, Oregon Temple. THAT is another story in itelf. The joys of marrying a foreigner and all it involves. But were here, were staying here, and we were worth every bit.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Journal jar post!!
Q: Were you responsible for household chores? What were they? Which did you enjoy the most/least?
A: First off, is this a trick question- and yes, in it's entirety...If there is a kid out there that is NOT responsible for any said household chore, I think his/her parents are doing them a huge injustice!!! And does any of said children really ever "enjoy" doing household chores? Those that actually require some cleaning and not such things as my girls "helping" me do the dishes....
That being said, I grew up in a family of all boys, which put me in the kitchen when cleaning most of the time. I really do remember most of my chores being in the kitchen. This did mean that my brothers would get the privledge of mowing the lawn every week (or so it seemed) and we did not have a small yard for the most part. I DO remember and sometimes even enjoyed putting up my tape player on top of the microwave and listening to Eurasure, Depeche Mode, and other 80's bands, really which ever ones my 2 older brothers said were cool. Which meant there were quite a few Van Halen diddies mixed in.
Being on KP duty also meant doing the dishes alot of the time. To this day, I really do not mind doing SOME dishes, but so help me, if I have the choice of washing the silverware or a toilet, I would pick the toilet!!! No idea why. I just hate having to take each individual spoon, knife or fork and washing it. Its an endless job and I am one for immediate gratification. If I have something to do, like a job. Get in, get er done, and get on your way for crying out loud!
There you have it...and no, before the questions start a comin, I will be washing my own silverware thank you. I will no be trading you jobs of you cleaning my silverware and I cleaning your toilet...thanks anyway. You can go ahead and flush that question right down the (your) toilet. HA!
A: First off, is this a trick question- and yes, in it's entirety...If there is a kid out there that is NOT responsible for any said household chore, I think his/her parents are doing them a huge injustice!!! And does any of said children really ever "enjoy" doing household chores? Those that actually require some cleaning and not such things as my girls "helping" me do the dishes....
That being said, I grew up in a family of all boys, which put me in the kitchen when cleaning most of the time. I really do remember most of my chores being in the kitchen. This did mean that my brothers would get the privledge of mowing the lawn every week (or so it seemed) and we did not have a small yard for the most part. I DO remember and sometimes even enjoyed putting up my tape player on top of the microwave and listening to Eurasure, Depeche Mode, and other 80's bands, really which ever ones my 2 older brothers said were cool. Which meant there were quite a few Van Halen diddies mixed in.
Being on KP duty also meant doing the dishes alot of the time. To this day, I really do not mind doing SOME dishes, but so help me, if I have the choice of washing the silverware or a toilet, I would pick the toilet!!! No idea why. I just hate having to take each individual spoon, knife or fork and washing it. Its an endless job and I am one for immediate gratification. If I have something to do, like a job. Get in, get er done, and get on your way for crying out loud!
There you have it...and no, before the questions start a comin, I will be washing my own silverware thank you. I will no be trading you jobs of you cleaning my silverware and I cleaning your toilet...thanks anyway. You can go ahead and flush that question right down the (your) toilet. HA!
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