Lonely and Alone

I have often said how much I would like to live on a mountaintop in Alaska, hunt my own proteins, grow my owns carbs, and be left alone. I like to tell myself that is how I would like to be, because I don't really feel like a social animal. Eliza tells me sometime she thinks I would be happy all by myself with computer games, that I isolate myself so I don't have to deal with everything else going on around me. I realize every time my family is gone away for some reason, or when I used to have to leave for business, that something isn't right. I don't enjoy being alone nearly as much as I think I will. I can't sleep, I waste hours playing games on the computer or x-box, I sleep with my gun because I'm jumpy and freaked out in my big empty house (true story, so don't break in!), I even tolerate the cat more because it is my only company.

I really started thinking about this more closely when reading a comment from Kindra, my sister in law, on Michelle's , another sister in law, blog. She talked about Lo, my father in law, explaining to them how lonely he felt with Kathleen sick and in the hospital. Right now she is in a quiet place, not speaking much, not reacting much (at least on the outside) and he has a rather large void in his life. To know Kathleen is to know exuberance incarnate. A woman whose smile extends from her lips to her eyes and radiates from her face. She is a story teller, a performer, a teacher, and a friend. To Lo she is a queen, his love, his life. He is a proud father, but his life revolves around his wife and their relationship. He would protect her any way he could, and would gladly give his life for hers if he needed to. It is no wonder that this man is lonely. I am grateful for the faith and prayers of all those who care for him, they shore him up, and without them I fear his will would be crushed, because he needs his Beloved.

Struggling to deal with the depth of his, and our, loss (at least for now, because I believe that Kathleen will be back and better than ever) of Kathleen's companionship, that smile, her warmth and wisdom has been a time of spiritual growing pains for most of us. It has been a bittersweet opportunity for me to fast with greater faith and intensity of prayer. It has been wonderful and sad at the same time to hear my children pray for their Granny with such sweet simple faith. It has been amazing to read the Ensign and find stories and talks meant just for me, and to hear testimonies born with assuredness of the saving power of Christ.

Just a few nights ago I began thinking that this experience is happening for a reason, or at least we are finding reason in it. Brothers, sisters, cousins and friends sharing stories or prayers offered and peace felt. Daughters and sons expressing great feelings of spiritual growth and calm peacefulness filling their hearts at different times. The greatness of God revealed in a seemingly random occurrence of a body rebelling against itself. I believe (because I really shouldn't speak for everyone else) that our Heavenly Father is teaching us one of the hardest lessons He has to teach His children, to be alone.

As the prophet Joseph Smith languished in the Liberty jail, falsely imprisoned, separated from the love of his life and his children, separated from the the body of the Church he loved so much, he plead to God with words that seemed to express his loneliness "Oh God where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth Thy hiding place?" This wasn't the first time the prophet had been "alone". In fact in many ways he had been alone throughout his life because of his experiences and convictions. I do not doubt that Joseph longed for more time to be spent in the arms of his wife. In the company of his children. At the hearth of his mother and father. But it was not to be. It seemed that our Father in Heaven had a need for Joseph to learn a bitter lesson, one the He knows all too well. In fact the Lord told Joseph as much while he was still a prisoner at Liberty jail "If thou art called to pass through tribulation... if thine enemies fall upon thee; if they tear thee from the society of thy father and mother and brethren and sisters; and if with a drawn sword thine enemies tear thee from the bosom of thy wife, and of thine offspring, and thine elder son, although but six years of age, shall cling to thy garments, and shall say, My father, my father, why can’t you stay with us? O, my father, what are the men going to do with you? and if then he shall be thrust from thee by the sword, and thou be dragged to prison... know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good." It was if the Lord was saying "Joseph, My brother, swallow this bitterness now, for in time you will never be lonely again, and you will truly savor the sweet companionship's of the eternities" (again I don't mean to put words in anyone's mouth, especially not Jesus, but for me it feels right).

Why do we need to know what it feels like to be alone? Why did Jonah need to be alone in the belly of the whale? Why did Adam need to be a lone man in the wilderness? Why did Samuel find himself alone upon the wall crying repentance to the Nephites? I believe it is so we can understand the words "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?" or "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?". As Christ Himself performed the ultimate act of condescension for us He was for a time alone, not just left alone by His disciples who slept as He suffered, but by His own Father. A Father who understood what must be done in order to save us all. A Father in Heaven who knows exactly how a husband feels when fearing the loss of his wife, or a daughter struggling to cope with the thought of becoming a mother herself without her mother there at her side. A Father who understands that to appreciate the greatest of all blessings, the most exquisite of all joys, the fulfillment of our lives, we must sometime in our lives know the uncertainty, pain, and fear of being lonely and alone.

Blood is thicker than...

The old saying goes "Blood is thicker than water..." meaning that familial ties, blood ties, are stronger than any other. Lately I have had occasion to think about what family means, who my family includes. I must say that I was blessed with a tremendous "blood" family. All sides carrying strong ties to my faith, possessing a great many and varied talents, and a strong work ethic. I am grateful to my family for passing these traits on to me, and instilling in me the learned behaviors that have blessed my life. I recognize the great contributions made by my biological family and the sacrifices made on my behalf, great and small.

That said, I have an extended family that is not necessarily biologically mine. Through marriage I became part of another large family steeped in wonderful traditions, built on good works and hard working. I didn't really take into consideration the blessings I would reap when joining this family, in actuality I was just happy to be getting an incredible wife (beautiful, intelligent, spiritual, wise, unbendably strong convictions). It was a bonus that I seemed to get along with those of my in laws that I had met, and truly like them as well.

Considering that Eliza and I met on a blind date, it was pretty miraculous that her family enjoys so many of the things that I do. It was a very good sign that on the first real time meeting the family Eliza's dad Lo grilled up some very tasty steaks. How did he know that I was a steak lover? Come to think of it, I think this may have been the first time in my life I ate a salad, but that is an aside. That night I played the basketball game "poison" with Eliza and several of her little sisters and a brother. I felt as if I belonged, even though I was so far out of my element surrounded by a big family. Along with the steak I found out that Lo was a conservative ( a huge plus in the book of the only guy I know that listened to Rush Limbaugh daily as a 15 year old), that at the time he was in the farming/sales industry ( I grew up on a farm, and was in sales), and he biked (as in bicycle, of which I like the mountain variety, although I'm not against leg shaving). Lo has always been to me an example of what a father should be: steadfast in the gospel, true to family and friends, a deeply devoted husband, and faithful father. As a cocky kid (which I think all 21 year olds just off the mission are) I caused Lo some consternation a few times, but he has always treated me so kindly. In fact I feel as though he has always treated me like one of his own sons. I don't know that a father in law could have a much higher compliment. Coming from a guy who has a dad and a step dad who I have grown up with, I am probably as close with my father in law as with either of my two dads (no offense intended fellas) and would proudly call Lo "dad".

So much has been made of the "evil" mother in law. Countless jokes and complaints, even movies and television shows based solely on this idea. Personally I don't get it. I never have. From day one my "mom" in law Kathleen has taken me in and taken me under her wing like one of her own little chicks. I have always liked Kathleen, I see so much of her in Eliza so what's not to like? Kathleen has always struck me as a supermom, without trying to appear to be a supermom. Like my own mother she has a soft spot for people and would quickly stand up for someone down on their luck but trying to what's right. Like my own mom she was on her high school's spirit squad (or whatever they were called, for my mom I think it was the "peppers"). I can see Eliza's drive and determination in her mom. I can see Eliza's intense love and desire for her children's well being in Kathleen. I can see the beauty and grace with which Eliza carries herself in Kathleen. My mom in law is the epitome of class, with the ability to make a joke (even very mildly off color) without coming across as phony. I love Kathleen as if she were my own mother and in some real ways she is.

Now, more than ever, as Kathleen is battling through a very serious health problem with her tumor and subsequent surgical complications I have come to truly appreciate my family. I have really felt that my extended family is just that... family. As Eliza and I were sealed together in the temple in front of friends and family the sealing power of the priesthood made me a very real link in her family chain and my spiritual family is every bit as real to me as my "blood" family. If all goes well I will be with them all together, forever.

SEALED

The light is blindingly white,
its blurring my vision.
Where is this light coming from?
As I sit on this small velvet covered couch
with your hand clasped in mine
I can't quite catch my breath.
What is that pounding in my ears?
Is that my heartbeat?
That light is becoming more intense-
making my eyes water-
or, are those tears?
Why can't I breathe?
I feel surrounded,
like the eternities are pushing in on me,
trying so hard to connect me to the past
and the future.
I wipe my eyes
and they fill again.
Is it because of the light?
Where is it coming from?
Is it in the mirrors around us?
No, all I can see is you and I,
and our images like echos going on forever.
The light is growing
in brightness
in depth
in quality.
It is pulsing-
why would it do that?
It is like it is alive.
The light's pulse seems to mimic
my heartbeat:
a quickening throb.
I can't see where it is coming from?
The light is filling me.
As I look at you
sitting there
the light's pulse matches my heart's beat.
I realize the light is coming from within me.
Searing my heart,
melting it,
welding it,
to yours.
I realize my heart had an empty space,
a hole,
and your heart filled it.

I AM SASQUATCH

I love facial hair, mostly because I have REALLY sensitive skin and I hate to shave because I get razor burn and rashes and ingrown hair etc... This is why I usually have some form of facial hair. I also have ADHD which I blame for my ever changing facial hair. But for a while now I have stuck with the full on beard and I love it. This is the longest I've ever grown a beard and it is by far the thickest I have ever had. I've been growing since sometime in early November and have trimmed it down twice so far. Besides boosting the testosterone of any room I walk into it has a practical purpose: keeping my cheeks warm. As you can see in the frosty bearded picture below it is providing much needed protection.

This was an unbelievably cold day, like 12 degrees, but I was nice and toasty! Okay so I was still cold, but not as cold as I could have been I'm sure!

Some of my favorite characters have had beards like:

Jeremiah Johnson

Or Grizzly Adams:



even Mugatu has a nice goat:

even chicks get in on the action:

Honestly what's not to love?

I know that some of the ladies complain that a man's facial hair can itch. Come on now think of it as nature's exfoliator and relish that you don't have to give yourself a facial. Some women don't like kissing a man with a beard because it "tickles". Isn't that really kind of a bonus? I mean really ladies, sit back, relax, and enjoy.

Now men my Grandpa Grover, a famous connoisseur of facial hair himself, taught me a valuable life lesson: There is a difference between growing a beard and not shaving. Men don't fall into that trap. You really don't want your beard to say "I'm a wino," unless of course you, are then have at it! Another thing, you don't want to be rocking that peach fuzz. It doesn't count if a cat could lick it off with a little milk. And finally, if you look like a tree with half of the leaves blown off maybe give up and go for a porn stache:

Who isn't feeling that?

Is anyone out there?

I think anyone who has a blog would like to be read. I don't think it is narcissistic, I think, as it is for myself, a need to be heard and at least thought about. Granted some people blog just to keep in touch with friends or family and that is fine. Others to espouse their beliefs in politics or sports which is funny because I always have heard that the big 3 things you don't discuss with other are religion, politics, and sports (no maybe that's not right, anyway). The point is that people that blog are putting themselves out into the wide wide world and expressing themselves for others to hear. This is inherently scary for most of us who aren't megalomaniacs and at the same time liberating. It is a good feeling to compose a post, try to put across your thoughts coherently, and then set it free onto the world wide web to reach as many people as you can. Now I'm no Matt Drudge, i have no delusions of being read by hundreds of thousands of people. I would (and do) get excited when one person visits my blog, and maybe people do, but to my knowledge only 4 people ever have and only 3 of those have ever posted a comment. So I guess my question is: Is ANYONE out there?

I get it if you don't find my stuff interesting, I'm a pretty eclectic kinda cat, but let me know. If you think my posts are disturbing let me know, if you don't like my political leaning let me know, if you would like to get me take on a subject let me know I would be happy to oblige. Of course if you think I rock let me know (thanks Tara for all of your positive comments!).

I have been told if you want to be read, or commented on, go out and comment on others. I try to do that, thus far I haven't found that to be so effective. I will keep trying. I don't want to be whiny, and I would like this to represent the silent ones out there in our little sphere, so please read and comment to other people's blogs. They will appreciate it, even if you disagree. Happy New Year!!!

Unfilled, yet not unfulfilling...

(not my picture!)


After many years of trying I was fortunate enough to draw an cow elk tag. I was lucky enough to get the tag I wanted in the area I wanted. And after many years away from home (Rexburg, Idaho) in my home away from home (Mesa, Arizona) I had heard story after story of herds of elk walking up to the truck and asking politely to be shot and taken home for a bounteous feast. I was well aware that my much anticipated hunting season would probably be depressingly short. Only because I would probably see my first big cow shortly after pulling out of my driveway and bag her there, leaving the next four weeks for me to reminisce the 5 minutes of exhilarating adventure and hard fought trophy hunting. I mean certainly Ernest Hemingway would be proud right? "The air was musky with her scent, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up with the electric thrill of the hunt. I stalked my pray through the crunchy fall grass, until she was startled... by a passing car."
Well fate had something else mind for me because I didn't fill that tag on the first day of the hunt or the last for that matter. And although my freezer is a lot emptier than I would have liked, the opportunity to be out in the woods and connect to that primal nature that is so often repressed in our modern society filled my soul. I didn't have the opportunity to shoot my elk from the road, but I did see some from the road for just a split second. The adrenaline that dumps into my body at that time is as sweet as anything I have ever experienced and I imagine that is what a junkie feels like when getting high. Unlike the junkie however I can get my high each time I am in the woods without the negative repercussions. In fact to me, chasing an elk or deer through almost knee deep snow and trees as thick as peanut butter is about as pure of high as one can get. As I walked high ridges along the tree lines, my senses were heightened to the point where I could imagine some long gone ancestor far down the gene pool stalking his pray for survival.



And being in mountain lion and grizzly bear country just prior to the long winter I was cognisant of the possibility of being hunted myself. It is exhilarating.
When I hunt, fish, hike or camp I often feel myself compelled to pray. Sometimes I drop to me knees and pray out loud, often I pray silently but fervently in my heart with gratitude for the blessings of being able to be in the middle of God's most natural and beautiful creations. The spirituality of it to me is probably the biggest part of the high. It also engenders a great feeling of responsibility or stewardship for what God has given us. It makes me never want to litter, to make sure that I would never kill needlessly or wastefully, and to try and share my passion for the outdoors through my experiences if I can. I would love for everyone to feel the way I do. Then I probably wouldn't see so many beer cans along the side of the roads or trails while I'm out and about. What I did see though will give me memories that won't fade for a long time. The Murphy's law of hunting says that you will see whatever types of animals you are not hunting. True to form in the four or so weeks I was hunting and about 6-7 hunting trips I saw over 40 dear including 28 in one day. Two beautiful Muley bucks, two equally beautiful (but smaller) whitetail bucks (which I have never seen before in the wild), 6-8 wild turkeys, an enormous Golden eagle,



sage hens,



forest grouse (some of which I did shoot including one great head shot with my 40 cal sig sauer), sharp tail grouse,an antelope, and close to 20 moose both bulls and cows.

On one trip we cut some fresh tracks and stopped the truck. It was eerily quiet and a very grey cold day on the mountain. There was some fresh snow and these tracks were the best we had seen all day. Just in case, my mom (yes she hunts, and has killed more big game than I have), and I decided to follow them for a while and see if we could get into the 3-4 elk that appeared to have crossed the road there. We followed as quietly as we could through the trees walking slowly and trying to step at the same time. After some time and distance I heard a snap in the trees and and some clomping of hooves in the snow. I dropped to my knee and tried to see through the dense trees. I caught some movement ahead of me as I peered low around the trunks of the trees. I saw a large set of ears flicker and pulled up my rifle while I tried to catch my breath. I waited for a moment and then I couldn't see anything but the frost of my breath in the air. I signaled to my mom and crept forward as quietly as I could. After a short distance I found the beds of 3-4 large animals were they had spent quite some time in the snow resting. I realized I must have spooked them out of their beds and wondered how far they would go. We followed their tracks through the trees and again I heard the crackling of a large body moving through the trees. Just then a loud sound startled me, at first I thought it was a grouse that had flew but it sounded too big. All of the sudden one of the biggest raven I have seen flew over head and I could literally hear the air being forced over and through its feathers as it pushed its way through the heavy grey sky. It disappeared into the trees again and I once more caught movement ahead of me in the woods. Just then I saw the whole head of the animal I had been trailing. A huge bull moose with its long beard hanging below its chin and a great set of antlers the spoons of which were much broader and wider than any I had previously seen this year.
The moose was majestic, there really is now other way of describing it, short of a big grizzly or Alaskan bear, or a big buffalo there isn't a bigger mammal that I know of native to North America. Oh and maybe the Sasquatch. Then as this beauty was scratching around in the snow I saw another set of legs, then more antlers. Then again and again until I had counted 3 bulls and what I believe was a cow. Soon a bull grunted, it was a low moo, like a domestic cow but much deeper and more aggressive. Soon two moose were pawing the ground in front of them and grunting. Steam was coming from their noses with each grunt. The two big bulls lowered their heads and locked antlers, thrashing their heads back and forth rattling in the trees and grunting at each other. Although it looked fairly aggressive I had the impression that these two young bulls were playing. It did give me a very healthy respect for their ability to be hostile and to cause serious damage if provoked. I stood a few yards from my mom and watched them tussle about 20 yards from us. It was amazing to be so close to these powerful animals and watch them interact this way. Mom and I looked at each other and grinned. Usually when you see a moose ,even in the woods, they give an impression of slowness and even stupidity. These moose were anything but that. They were powerful, they were playful, they were beautiful. Sharing something like this with my mom was one of the best moments of my life. As we looked at each other and quietly whispered we knew that we were seeing something in real life that many people would never even seen on tv, and perhaps would never appreciate it when and if they did. My mind was racing as fast as my heart and I was so grateful to be alive.
Eventually the moose began to walk off doubling back around us and, I think, heading back to the beds we had chased them out of. They weren't the elk I had been hunting, but they still provided an amazing trophy that could beat any record in my book. As mom and I hiked back to the road discussing our good fortune I totally forget about being cold and wet, I forgot about being hungry, I forgot that my hunt was almost over and my tag would soon go unfilled. I forgot about all these things, and thought about how fulfilling life can be.

Just a NOTE of explanation...

Much to my protestations as a writer I am making a little note for the one person who ever looks at my blog... my wife. The previous post entitled Sunset is not a suicide note, nor is is it intended to be construed as a suicide note. Rather it is a small blurb in the the tradition of Stephen King, Edger Allen Poe, or Richard Matheson or any other short story horror writer. A quick glimpse into the dark side of humanity. It IS NOT about me so just relax. There now I've said it. I feel so dirty and cheapened now, like I have no integrity as a writer. I think I am going to go kill myself! Kris