Allyson's Top Forty

Being the old married couple that we are, Dave and I have established a few little traditions . He shovels snow off the deck and walkway, I do not. I do the dishes and don't allow him into my kitchen ( don't want anyone messing up my tiny-kitchen system). He stacks the firewood; I build the fires.

Another tradition we have is every once in a while, I will at random, have a tiny little breakdown and he asks me "What's wrong?" I say, "I miss my Mama" or "Daddy" (depending on the moment). Then he smiles gently and says, "Well at least they're together now." And then I say, "At this moment I don't care because I want them to be with ME." And then he just gives me a nice long hug while I cry and agrees with me that it was very rude of them to die, and then, because he agrees with me I feel much better and I'm fine until the next time.

Yesterday we drove into the big city to attend a funeral for a lovely woman who's family Dave had grown up with. Though I didn't know her, it was good to see Dave re-connect with old friends and listen to them share child-hood stories after the service. I think it would have pleased any mother to know her family had gathered to honor her life and legacy and reconnect with each other.

After the luncheon, we went to the grocery store to pick up a few items to replenish my already bursting-at-the-seams pantry. Apparently "Hooterville"/"Pixley" stores never seem to have tahini. And when I know I can't have something for some random recipe, I will obsess over it until I get it. But I can't just get the tahini, because there was also burrata cheese, and blue corn chips, and dried tangerines and tangerine juice, and just really all....the....things.....and so the trip for the $4 tahini ended up being a $119 tahini trip. As we wheeled the cart up to the check-out, Dave gave me a look like, "this is another one of our traditions."

As I reached for a couple of Belgian chocolate bars (one milk chocolate for fun, and one dark for baking) at the cashier's stand, the cashier smiled and asked nonchalantly, "Hi folks, what do you all have going on today?" I quickly looked over at Dave to see if he was going to say anything. I mean, we had just been to a funeral, and I really didn't think she'd be all that interested in striking up a conversation about that while scanning the tahini, and blue corn chips. I looked over from him to her; she had already looked away from us and to the next customer. Whew. No need to get into it. She handed us our doubled up paper bags and we headed out to the car. We put everything in the trunk. The cheese would stay plenty cold in the twenty one degree temps. We had an 8 PM appointment to attend the Provo City Center Temple, and with the drive would likely not be home until 10:45.

I have been in several temples in my over fifty decades of life. My first memory is of the Mesa, Arizona temple. I was five years old. Our family lived in Dumas, Texas at that time. Daddy had been a member of the church for just over a year. The Volkswagen bus would need new tires before safely making the over twelve-hour drive. The Branch President (local clergy leader) knew finances were tight for our family. He suggested that we could take over the cleaning of the church each week until we had earned enough for a new set of tires. At my young age I had no idea why each Saturday morning we'd go to the church and each of us take a rag and mama would point us to where she'd like us to clean. Daddy would bring a record to play on the church record player; usually something patriotic "Mormon Tabernacle Choir Battle Hymn of the Republic". Daddy would run the electric buffer over the tiled floor and when he wasn't in a hurry, he'd let me hitch a ride on it if my dusting duties were done.

That trip for our family holds precious and varied memories for each of us.

Years later, as a young mother of toddlers and babies, our little family lived just a short walking distance from that very same temple. It was the most beautiful, peaceful place to walk around with my littles. I'd load them into the stroller, sometimes taking a few children's library books and a small snack; I'd sit under the shade of a giant eucalyptus tree in the Arizona heat. The kids would play on the grass around me and I'd have a few minutes to breathe in the scent of orange blossoms, listen to the fountains, and re-center.

Before Bronson left on his mission, we were able to visit the temple as a family. My step-father Terry Lunt was able to attend with us as well. I remember looking around the room at so many people I love so much. Years ago when my father was baptized, Terry was the Bishop/family friend that performed Daddy's baptism. His wife Nancy and Mama being the closest of friends as well. Two young families whose lives were intertwined throughout the years. And now here he was sitting with me and my children. My own parents are now gone; and yet I could so keenly feel their presence in the room with us that day.

I have several music play-lists on my phone. My taste in music is all over the map. A playlist for each decade, one for love-songs, one for exercising, relaxing, road-tripping, dancing, dinner-partying and also, one I call my "Top Funeral Songs". Now and then I remind Dave that if I pass before he does, he has to promise to play all of these songs at my funeral. He always replies "Allyson, the funeral would have to last an entire week-end to fit all those songs in." To which I reply, "Then so be it." It's another tradition conversation.

Yesterday's funeral had one of my favorite hymns. It's actually on my funeral play-list. "Our Savior's Love". It gives me so much peace.

Our Savior's love

Shines like the sun with perfect light,

As from above

It breaks thru clouds of strife.

Lighting our way,

It leads us back into his sight,

Where we may stay

To share eternal life.

The Spirit, voice

Of goodness, whispers to our heaerts,

A better choice

Than evil's anguished cries.

Loud may the sound

Of hope ring till all doubt departs,

And we are bound

To Him by loving ties.

Our Father, God

of all creation, hear us pray

In rev'rence, awed

By thy Son's sacrifice.

Praises we sing.

We love thy law; we will obey.

Our Heav'nly King

In thee our hearts rejoice

~Text ; Edward L Hart

We are bound to Him by loving ties. And to each other.

https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/?lang=eng