Who Says I Have to Choose?

One of the things that I have had the less than pleasurable experience of dealing with over the past twenty years Christina and I have been married is the fact that of the "married friends" that we have known, been close to, or have been associated with, roughly 50% of them are no longer married.

Often, in the process, something happens, and the couple in question will do one of three things. They will:



- close off from us and we just stop hearing from either of them.
- one of the couple continues to interact with us, and the other fades away in the background someplace
- in very rare occasions, both individuals will actively try to keep in contact with us.


I was reminded of this recently when I saw an old email from a friend. We had not talked in awhile, and it was fun conversing on a number of different things that we both liked and shared as interests. In the process, she said to me "I never thought it was fair that Kevin* got to have you, Christina and the kids as part of the divorce."


I was stunned. At first, I genuinely didn't know what to say. After pondering the various thoughts I had, I decided I had to answer her back, and I've decided to answer that same question here, because it's how I've always felt:


"Jennifer*, I was never told that I was part of the custody proceedings. Regardless of how things played out between you and Kevin, it wasn't a one way street. We weren't friends with Kevin, and oh well, I guess Jennifer just came along for the ride... we were all friends, and I value both of you. we stopped talking because you changed your phone number and your address, and didn't give me a new one. Your old email didn't work any longer, and we had no forwarding to tell us what your new address was.

Kevin never asked me to not remain your friend, and I genuinely never considered that I wouldn't be. For some reason, you came to the conclusion that Kevin deserved to be our friend, and that you no longer belonged. We are here, the address and phone number is the same, the email is the same. If you want to talk or visit with us, we are here. if you would like us to come and visit you, we're happy to. We have always, and will always, be your friend."


In a very few instances, due to genuinely terrible circumstances, I have with relief watched relationships end, usually due to dangerous behavior or psychotic tendencies in an individual, but even there, I never wished anything bad to happen to them. I did wish for those specific people to go and get help. Those that did, are in far better places today. Some have even reached out to me to talk again, for which I am happy to do. Some are still out there somewhere, and I really wish them well and hope that they are happy or can become happy once again.



To those out there who have ever wondered "What would the Larsen's say if I contacted them after so much time?" I would say "Hey, it's great to hear from you, how are you doing? What are you up to? Where do you call home now? Let me know when you are in the area, I would love to see you and say hello in person. If I'm in your area, the same applies." With a very few exceptions, that would go for most of those people we were friends with for all those years. The exceptions know why they are exceptions. I don't want to have "toxic" or "abusive" around my family, but in most cases, neither toxicity or abuse factored into the issues. Life did, and sometimes, life is not fair. I ask that you not compound life's unfairness by cutting us out of your lives when we certainly had (and have) no intention of cutting you out of ours.



* - names have been changed, but this conversation has happened a variety of times in a variety of ways, and applies to many couples and families over twenty years.

It Was 16 Years Ago Today

It's funny, there's so much I could say about this day, but I'm just going to point out that today is the 16th anniversary of yours truly and his beloved tying the knot, making two into one, cleaving unto one another and no other, you pick the sentiment. The point is, today is the day that, sixteen years ago, the most gorgeous woman on Earth (well, to me; understand I'm not exactly unbiased in this particular opinion) said "I do" and "I will" and I'm ever so glad "she did" :).

So instead of waxing rhapsodic about "the way we were" and who were were back then, why not just show you who we were :)...




A few weeks before our wedding at the wedding shower, and yes, I was there (I'm all liberated like that, and stuff (LOL!) ).



At our Bachelor/Bachelorette Party (yep, we decided to be unconventional and hold them together because, well, we're just raging geeks like that :) )". Don't you just love the early 90's garb (LOL!)?



The Bride and Groom the Night of the Celebrated Day.



The two of us out and about a couple of months later on a typical San Francisco afternoon in the Sunset District.



Another early shot of the newlyweds (sometime in 1993).

And now fast forward to us today (a lot has changed)...



Well for some of us, not so much... Christina has hardly changed at all!!!



I certainly can't say the same for me (LOL!).



But you know what? She still digs me, and I definitely still dig her, and frankly, when all is said and done, that's all that matters.

Happy Anniversary!!!

Bopping Along to The Three O’ Clock!!!

It’s fun to be reminded of things in the past that just bring back strangely fun and wonderful memories. For me, much of my life can be compartmentalized in the music I enjoyed and the times it reflects. Unlike many casual listeners, I was an absolutely schizophrenic listener. I had no problem telling people I could listen to rock, new wave, punk, metal, disco, R&B, soul, funk, jazz, blues and country... in some case all on the same tape (yes, kids, I’m that old (LOL!) ).

Today, as I was digging through some old archives of music, I came across an album I hadn’t heard in years…. The Three O’ Clock’s “Sixteen Tambourines”. Oh, how I loved this group and the sound they and other similar groups spawned, the pseudo-mid-sixties vibe that was so prevalent to the Beatles and the Monkees and revived in the early and mid-80s. The Three O’ Clock were considered by many to be the centerpiece of the “Paisley Underground”, a style of music I was decidedly a fan of, and whose influence followed into my own musical career (many people may not have realized it, but my high tenor voice of the time owed as much to my listening along to and singing along to Michael Quercio as it did to any other influence… the long sleeved, buttoned up and untucked psychedelic shirts and collar broach I wore were also a conceit freely lifted from the Paisley Underground, albeit in a decidedly more glammed out fashion ;) ).

For ages, I have wanted to find their album “Arrive without Traveling” on CD, but alas it was never released as such. Well, imagine my surprise today, as I was dinking around on the net while listening to Sixteen Tambourines… that Arrive without Traveling and Ever After (their 1986 follow up album) were re-released in 2003 as a “double CD”. With the holidays coming up, I’m giving anyone who wants to surprise me for my birthday (it’s December 7th) or Christmas (do I need to remind anyone of that date (LOL!)?) the opportunity to do so :). My Amazon Wish list is right here (sure, this is a little mercenary, but what the heck, I’ve given gifts to people who have made mention of interests in the past, maybe fortune will smile on me the same way… and if not, ah well (LOL!) ).

Otherwise, today is a day that will be dedicated to my rewriting smoke tests, and Michael Quercio’s ever so familiar helium-sucking voice will be keeping me company today. Life is good :).

Saying Farewell to "My Bishop"

OK, deep breath, everyone... for those who know me presonally, no, this is not directed at the current Bishop of my ward, or any other Bishop from the past 18 years. This entry goes a little farther back in time. Lots of men have held the title and been in that position of responsibility, but when I say "My Bishop", I'm referring to one person and the profound impact he had on me, even at a time when I'm not even sure he (and definitely not I) knew he was having that impact. To protect his families privacy, I'll just refer to him as "Bishop T" from here on out. Truth be told, anyone who knows me and has known me for any length of time probably already knows who I'm talking about :).

Bishop T had the unenviable position of having to deal with me after I turned 17. At that time, I was not just drifting away from church activity, I was jumping into a speedboat and gunning the motor. Bishop T, however, took a keen interest in me, and made it a point to talk with me regularly. I know that, at times, I must have been very much a prickly pear to talk to in those days, but Bishop T had something going for him few other men in the church, or previous Bishops I'd known, had (or should I say, that I could perceive they had). You see, many Bishops seem to spring into life as fully formed versions of Captain Moroni. Stalwart men, strong in the faith, no blemish whatsoever on their pasts, eminently successful in whatever endeavor they pursued (and really, this makes sense; why would any Stake President call a Bishop who wasn't someone who could prove to be an eminently capable administrator?). In short, these men were all paragons of virtue (at least to my recollection), and oftentimes, I found them unbearable to be around (wonderful men though they were).

Bishop T made it clear to me from the get go that he'd seen life from both sides of the line. He'd lived the Dark Side, and forsaken it. He also let me know as much. What?! A Bishop who wasn't Lily White and perfectly spotless in every way?! Thus, when Bishop T talked to me, it felt like a kindred spirit was communicating with me.

Over the years, we had varying levels of contact. It was with great pleasure I saw him some years after I left my home ward and I came back to visit and tell him I was active in the church again. His smile was huge, and his happiness for me was evident. A few years later, I saw him and his wife at a public event, and we chatted for a few minutes, and then I decided to show him something I'd recently been given... my temple recommend. When I showed him that, he gave me the biggest grin, and then enveloped me in a bear hug that I thought would asphyxiate me (LOL!). He and his wife smiled conspiratorially at each other and said "Michael, we both knew that it wasn't a matter of *if* you would get that, just a matter of *when*." Yes, Bishop T knew me better than I knew myself, I have no doubt about that.

Bishop T's style and manner is something I try to emulate today. He was not just a man with a past, but a man who truly learned from his past, and he was one who did not glorify it, but made a point to talk about things he learned while he was living on the Dark Side of life. It helped me to know that, truly, there was a man who really knew how I felt, and yet he was not willing to make excuses, or let me make excuses. He knew that it would be so easy for me to walk away if everyone were to have just written me off and forgot about me. Bishop T never did, and he made a point to let me know that he never would. His wife would tell me later that he would talk to her about me, about the things that we talked about, and he'd say to her "ya' know, I just *get* that boy, and I think he *gets* me. I know I'm geting through to him, even if its just in a small way." Well, it's true, he did, and in much more than a *small* way.

Bishop T passed away last week from a sudden heart attack. He'd had health issues in the past, but he always beat them, and he had the spirit of a fighter. I knew anything that was going to take Bishop T down would have to be something to hit him swiftly before he would have a chance to fight back. In many ways, I think that was the best way for him to go. Still, it's a painful way to go for those who are left behind. All four of my grandparents have now passed on, and three of them had protracted illnesses, where the writing was on the wall and we all had plenty of time to prepare for it and accept it when it came. However, my mother's father went the way Bishop T did. One minute he was fine and active, the next, he was gone, as though a switch had been thrown and suddenly, he's out of our life. That kind of passing leaves a huge hole in the lives of those left behind. I'm sure Bishop T's family feels the same way.

I attended a viewing for Bishop T Sunday evening with my father, and I had a chance to visit with him one final time. Seeing him lying in state with his friends and family surrounding him, I couldn't help but smile for him. He was a wonderful man, a terrific Bishop, and now I realize... he was a terrific friend to me. When his wife came up to me, held my hand and thanked me for being there, saying "Bishop T is smiling from Heaven. I know he's very happy that *you* are here right now!" Several times during the evening, she would take me around to introduce me to severala people from Bishop T's side of the family I had never met and say "this was one of Bishop T's favorite kids... they used to share stories from the Dark Side", and I felt it confirmed to me that, not only was Bishop T and his wife and family very special to me... but that I was very special to them, too.

Sometimes we take for granted the people that are part of our lives, we always think there will be time to see them, talk to them, share memories with them, but the hustle and hurry of life gets in the way. Sadly, I will not have any more opportunities in this life to speak directly to Bishop T, but I have a firm testimony that what he stood for, and the testimony that he held, and that I also jointly hold, means that I *will* see him again after this life is over. I look forward to that day, when on the other side of the veil I and a fellow war buddy from the battle of the Dark Side will be able to sit together and be active friends once more.

There have been many men in my life who have served admirably and humbly in the role of Bishop, but to this day, there's still only one man who I will refer to as "My Bishop". God bless you and keep you, Bishop T. You left a legacy that will be cherished by many, but most certainly will be cherished by me. God be with you 'til we meet again.

A Halloween To Remember :)

Halloween is a special day in my life, more so than perhaps only a handful of other holidays and special anniversaries. You see, Halloween is the day that I proposed to Christina back in 1991. Now this should come as absolutely no surprise to anyone who knows me (of course Michael and Christina got engaged on Halloween!), but what’s not so readily known is the circumstances that led up to that momentous declaration and decision, and the somewhat serendipitous way that it happened. Over the years I’ve been both lauded and excoriated for the way I did this (LOL!), and the story has taken on a life of its own over the years as well, so I wanted this HAlloween to set the record straight, once and for all, as to what happened, how it came about, and what ultimately resulted (well, one of the results you already know about… Christina was crazy enough to marry me, for which I will be eternally grateful :) ).

So let’s set the way back machine for Halloween Day, 1991.. It was going to be a day unlike any other, but earlier in the day, I figured it was going to be unique because, for the first time in many years, I was not scheduled to play a show, promote for a show, or somehow be involved with another friend’s band in putting on a show. For once, I decided I wanted to clear the calendar that Halloween, celebrate Christina’s recent arrival in her apartment in San Mateo, and be the happy little domestic couple giving out candy to little kids who would Trick or Treat. After a couple of hours, we realized that nobody was coming to the door. As we walked out and saw some people gathered on the common porch, we asked where the Trick or Treaters were. The people laughed and said “nobody trick or treats the houses and apartments around here… everyone goes to Hillsdale Mall and does their Trick or Treating there!” Hmmm… I must admit I’d never considered that, and it did sound a little odd to me, but hey, when in Rome… so we decided to grab our coats and head down to Hillsdale so we could see what the kids were doing. Besides, I was willing to bet that the mall was probably done up quite well for the occasion.

As we arrived at Hillsdale Mall, we watched the little (and not so little) Trick or Treater’s run about from store to store and gather up candy, treats and other items (not to mention a rather brisk business at several of the novelty stores for last minute costumes). It was here where I chuckled and said “huh, I wonder if I’ll ever bring my kids to a mall to Trick or Treat”. Christina and I joked about that idea, and somehow that little side comment about trick or treaters morphed into a conversation about having kids and about marriage in general. Now, I wasn’t at that moment all that keen on bringing up the topic of marriage, because at the time I was quite broke, making very little money, and carrying a load of debt. I didn’t particularly see myself as stable husband material at that particular moment. As Christina asked me at what point I could see getting married, I said a very honest “oh, three to four years, realistically.” After I said that, I looked at Christina, and she had an expression that would not be out of place had I directly slapped her. She stammered “f-f-four *years*?!” I tried to explain why, and how it just seemed so unrealistic at this stage, when something deep down told me:

“Michael, shut up. Now! Christina has just told you something major here… she doesn’t care about your financial situation, she doesn’t care about how suited you feel you are to be a husband… she just telegraphed to you in huge block letters that she wants to marry you! YOU! And she doesn’t want to wait four years for that experience. Be a man and step up!”

With this realization, I had to find a way to really make sure I was reading the situation right, so I immediately changed tactics and said “Hey, I have an idea… let’s go and, for the fun of it, see what kind of a ring you might like. I mean, we are here, and the mall is open late tonight… c’mon, it’ll be fun.” With that, we decided to go and take a look at the dozen or so jewelry stores that were in Hillsdale Mall at that time. We looked at lots of different styles, and many of them were, while nice, just nothing that screamed out to either of us “oh yeah, that one”… until we came to a Zales Jewelers on the bottom level. Over in the corner was a small display and in it was a neat looking ring with a bunch of very small diamonds surrounding a center stone, all on an asymmetrically angled ring. This was the one that Christina couldn’t take her eyes off of. I liked it, too because it was unique; truly different than anything else we had seen. Her eyes lit up and her smile was all I had to see.

I asked the lady behind the counter if we could have a closer look at the offset ring with the slightly angled band. She brought it out and Christina tried it on. As I saw her smile widen, we had the following exchange:

“So, you like *that* one, huh?”
“Oh yes, very much!”
“Really, you don’t think it’s a little odd looking?”
“Oh no, I like it so much. It’s unique. I’ve never seen another one like it. If I had to choose a ring, I’d *definitely* choose this one.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Yes, I’m completely sure!”
“I’m glad to hear that… Maam? Yes, thank you very much for your time… we’ll take it!”

As the lady behind the counter thanked me for agreeing to purchase the ring, we had to make a decision on payment. I told her I’d make a 20% down payment, and finance the rest (for my long time readers, this was before my financial epiphany, so yes, you’re going to cringe at my saying this, but yes, I did finance the ring… it was a spur of the moment decision, after all). I decided to go with the classic De Beers philosophy of two months of salary for an engagement/wedding ring, and fortunately, this particular ring fit in that philosophy and price range :).

As she handed me a loan application, and as I was filling it out, Christina’s expression went from smiling, to looking at me quizzically, to showing genuine concern, to complete and total alarm. She realized what I was doing, and that I was actually following through with purchasing the ring she was looking at. She would nudge me and say “um, what are you doing?” I of course, decided I was not going to answer. She looked at me again and said “are you doing what I think you’re doing?!” Again, no answer. At this point, I started whistling (yes, I know, but I really was having fun at this particular point in time, and the anxiety of the situation was actually quite entertaining :) ).

When the lady came back and said “OK, all is in order and your loan has been approved”, I thanked her, removed the ring from Christina’s finger, put it in the box that they gave me, and I stuck the ring in my pocket. I suggested that we should probably leave. Christina just nodded and followed me, looking a little like a deer caught in the headlights. As we were walking into the main courtyard of the mall, I suggested that we should go to our favorite little sushi haunt near her apartment (Isobune on Burlingame Avenue).

We drove over to the sushi place with a little Peter Murphy playing in the background (symbolic, yes, as the album “Deep” was one of the first things we listened to on our first date roughly a year earlier) and we walked in and asked for one of the booth tables. As we sat down and ordered, I looked up and there was Christina, looking at me with an expression that told me she really couldn’t take it anymore. As I talked about what an interesting night it had been, such fun at the mall, such cute costumes, and now here we were at one of our favorite places, it just seemed like the night was going so wonderfully. Still, for some odd reason, I felt like I was forgetting something… what could it be?

At which point, the “Kelly trademark smirk” made its appearance, and I said “oh yes, now I remember…”. I reached into my jacket pocket, pulled out the ring, opened the box up, got down on one knee in the aisle and said the following:

“Christina, you have put up with a lot regarding me. Some might say I’ve put up with a lot regarding you, too. Tonight I realized that we both want to do this, and we don’t want to wait until everything is perfect. We want to go fir it right here and right now. In front of all of these people, and all of this dead fish, I hereby ask that you marry me. I can’t guarantee that we will be rich, I can’t guarantee that we will always be comfortable, but I hereby promise that life will never be boring. I love you and, please say yes!”

She did, I slipped the ring on her finger, we kissed… and the whole restaurant clapped.

And with that, Christina and Michael were “semi-officially” engaged. We were officially engaged two days later when I made the formal request of her father (old country Germans and Austrians tend to take this seriously, and so did I. I was relieved to hear him say in his thick Austrian accent “thank you very much for asking, I’ll gladly have you take her off of my hands” followed by a hearty laugh :) ). With that, we figured it would just be a quick announcement and a few plans made to get the rest taken care of. However, looking back, we made an interesting decision… since she was born December 3rd, 1968, and I was born December 7th, 1967, we thought it would be cute to have our wedding be between those two dates. Little did we realize that trying to get married in December would be one of the most challenging things to pull of, and with so little time, it would be virtually impossible to book a church or reception area. We decided, though, that we wanted to have that little tradition, so we both said “OK, let’s shoot for December 5th, 1992. That will give us a whole year to prepare, no pressure, and lots of time to get everything in place.”

What would follow would be one of the most defining, and I’ll dare say, necessary years of both our lives, and just how fateful the decision to wait a year to actually get married would be… but that story, my friends, will have to wait for another day :).

Facebook and the Celestial Kingdom

Don't think I'm too much off of my rocker with today's blog post. I have a point with it :).

I'm not really sure what happened last week, but for some reason, I sat down with some thoughts in my head about who I'd like to see and what they were up to. There are quite a few people I've wondered about over the years, and each time that I've thought to look for them, I've come up empty handed. This week, I just felt an urge to do a little bit of poking around and posting some thoughts and comments to some friends Facebook walls, because, really, that's the whole point of a "social network", right? We invest time and effort into fostering and rekindling relationships because these people matter to us... at least that's how I tend to view them.

I had a strong impression that this was the time I should do some direct name searches, and see if those people who had eluded me in other ways could be found... and find them I did, in spades! The most surprising was a dear friend from high school that I'd long since thought I'd never see again... and it turns out she was living in the same house she grew up in. She ribbed me a little and said "if you would have just called the number you knew from high school, I would have answered".

I found something very profound in that statement... a part of me had long wondered how this person was doing, but for some reason I never thought to just go and contact the home and family where she used to live. Instead, I'd poke my nose around sites on the web, looking to see if I might somehow run across her, maybe do some kind of drive by "hey, I just found you here, how cool is that?", and somehow feel content that I'd made a connection with somebody. How many years ago could I have just screwed up the courage to make a phone call and say "hey, I was thinking about you, and I wanted to know how you were?" Part of me felt like I was being nosey, like I was butting into someones life, and did I really think I had a right to do that. It may sound silly, but these are things I think about.

I realized that a lot of the time, I do the same thing with Heavenly Father and with Jesus Christ as relates to my interaction with the Gospel. I'm perfectly content to have these roundabout experiences where I try to find something or have something pertinent to the gospel appear in my life, but the simple and most direct route, that of just going up to my Father in Heaven and Jesus Christ and saying "help me to have this" or "teach me to walk in the light", those are the things that make me nervous or intimidate me. Maybe it comes down to fear, wonder if we have any business asking. To use my Facebook analogy, in many ways, I felt like going to this old friends house or calling that number would be a strange thing to do, like I would be an intruder, and who did I think I was, anyway? It's only after we make that contact and realize, "Silly dude, of course you could have called or contacted me. That's what friends are for, right?"

Since more times than not, I make these notes for my own memory rather than for any necessary entertainment value for others (although hey, if you enjoy reading them, that's a definite bonus :) ), I felt the need to write this entry today. The feeling of reuniting and rekindling friendships, that sense of relief that I'm welcome in someones life, that there's good feelings and good memories and, sometimes, forgiveness for past oversights or bad actions, has been such a wonderful blessing to me today. I'm on a natural high from a number of conversations I've had, and I think that, in a way, I've had just a little bit more of a peek as to what the Celestial Kingdom might actually be like, and what kind of attributes a person needs to have to feel comfortable there. What's more, I've realized that, if someone matters to you, it's a good bet that you may actually matter to them, too. Still, there's really only one way to find out. If there's someone you've been wondering about, try to find them. Directly. Stop with the roundabout "Oh, I'll ask a friend of a friend, or check some site some place"... go directly to the source if you can, say hello and explain what you are doing and why you are doing it. Then let the chips fall where they may. It's entirely possible you may not be welcome, and you will know that soon enough. It's also possible that those people will be really happy to have heard from you, and your knowledge and experience of those people, and your potential future interaction with those people, will be greatly enriched. Again, potential shades of the Celestial Kingdom right here and now... I think I can deal with that :).

To My Great-Aunt Betty Jane

My Great Aunt Betty Jane passed away Monday evening. She was the last surviving member of my grandmother's generation, and knowing that she has passed away makes me feel a bit lonelier today. Last night, I attended a ceremony prior to the funeral, and I had a chance to share a few off the cuff words about Betty Jane with my family. My mom said that she really appreciated the words I shared, and that it was a shame I didn't write them down.

Thus, I decided to come home and see if I could capture what I said. It's not verbatim, but I think I've come close with what I have here.

Remembering the Fire: In Memory of my Great Aunt Betty Jane

During the years that I grew up in Danville, our house was often the center of activity for my mother's side of the family. There were many times that our house was a gathering point for the women I called "The Mariani Trio", which were three sisters; my grandmother Barbara, my Great Aunt Betty Jane, and my Great Aunt Marie. During their lives, I thought of these three women by three symbols. Those symbols were Stone, Steel and Fire. Anyone who knew these women knew that these descriptions were apt for them, and those who knew them already know which symbols belong with whom.

Barbara was Stone; steadfast, unmoving, and firm. When Barbara made up her mind about something, that was it, argument was over. She was as immovable and firm as stone. Marie was Steel; sharp, powerful, cutting, and ready to fight for what she believed in. Over the years, I freely admit, I contended with Stone, and I fought with Steel. Betty Jane, however, was Fire. Not a fire that burned or caused harm, but a fire that created warmth, cheered you and invited you in. Betty Jane was the one with a warm smile, with a kind word, the one that was able to get others to see her way of things because her cheerful nature always won you over. I never fought with Betty Jane, there just was never a need. She also never had to fight with me to see her point of view.

Betty Jane was always interested in every one's lives, and would enjoy listening to all of us kids, whether we were her own children or cousins, like me, talk about our lives, our goals and our dreams. She had a way of making you feel like she was the biggest fan of whatever it was you were doing. I remember back when I was trying to make it as a musician (not the easiest endeavor under even the best of circumstances). When my grandmother and Aunt Marie would often look at me like I was crazy (and really, I can't say I blamed them at times :) ), Betty Jane would ask me how my most recent show went, about the latest song I'd written, about the antics of friends and people that I'd met. She'd always laugh and smile, as though she was thoroughly enjoying learning about my day to day life. She didn't just do this for me; she genuinely did this with everyone!

Watching Betty Jane and her husband Frank over the years was a beautiful experience. They were inseparable, and I know that losing Frank when he died left a big hole in her life. Watching the two of them over the years helped develop the resolve in me that that was the kind of relationship I wanted to have with my wife someday, the kind where the thought of seeing the two of them separate from each other just made no sense. I was happy to have had that example throughout my life, and when I think of the closeness Christina and I share to this day, it is with a smile that I say that Betty Jane and Frank had a hand in influencing that.

Today, I am here to say goodbye to Betty Jane, and part of me feels sad, and a little cheated... because the Fire that I always remembered and perhaps took a little for granted over the years has gone out. Truthfully, though, it really hasn't. Her example and her warmth will live on in my heart and in my memories. Her and Frank's example of love and devotion I hope will live on in my own family. Her kind words and her wonderful laugh will resonate in my heart for years to come. Part of me is sad, because she is gone, and I will miss her. But another part of me knows that she isn't really gone, that her spirit lives on, and that she is reunited with Frank, the love of her life. While I will miss her, I know that through the atonement of Jesus Christ, and through the blessings of a loving Father in Heaven, I will see her again one day. I expect that she will want to be filled in on everything since the last time we talked, and she will listen, and she will laugh, and the warmth of that fire that I've always associated with her will once again wrap around me anew.

9/11/2001 - The Morning I'll Never Forget

It was just a little after 6:00 AM on September 11th, 2001. I drove into work at my usual early morning agreed-to time, and I ran into my co-worker, Sheri (we both worked the early shift at that time). Sheri looked at me and said "did you hear that a plane slammed into the World Trade Center?" My first reaction was that some idiots in a Cessna went joyriding and crashed into one of the towers. Since I had a radio in my lab, I went in and turned it on, sat down.....

and did not move for close to three hours.

I just sat there, listening to the whole situation unfold. After I realized how much time had passed, I came out of the lab to see the rest of my company out in the hallway, watching a television screen. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, we all just did our best to comprehend what we were seeing. I was shocked, I was hurt, I was dumbfounded that such a thing could happen. Mostly, I was profoundly sad. Sad to hear about and see so many people that lost their lives on that fateful day. Sad and proud for the firefighters and emergency people that went in and tried to save people, only to get crushed by the falling buildings. Sad and proud to hear about the airplane that crash landed and to find out that passengers decided to take on the terrorists and prevented what could have been even further damage, at the cost of their own lives.

That day, I was both sad to be an American, and proud to be an American. I saw the worst that humanity could throw, short of a nuclear attack, and I watched so many people pay an ultimate price. I also saw the resolve of America firm up and clench its fist. Regardless of partisan politics, regardless of who did what and when and how, I joined 300 million other Americans that day and said "this is personal, and whoever did this must pay for it".

Seven years later, much has been said, and much has been done. Some don't like *how* it's been done, but we need to remember that we were attacked, we were maimed, and we were hurt. But we got back up, and we determined to fight a good fight. Regardless of the spin placed on the story or the aftermath, seven years out, I beg everyone to please remember that we did not ask for this, we did not request to be attacked, but we were, and we committed troops to help purge those who would try to attack us again. Regardless of your personal politics, please say a prayer tonight for the men and women who have committed to fight on our behalf so that we may continue to enjoy the blessings of liberty that we still have. They didn't ask for this fight, but they are fighting and dying on our behalf. Also, say a prayer for the families who lost loved ones on that fateful day. Finally, make a pledge to do all that you can to help make a community and world where such vicious and horrific acts may become so unspeakable that they dare not be performed. It's a tall order, to be sure, but we owe such resolve to those who have served, and died on our behalf. To not pledge to do so means those men and women have died in vain... and that's an outcome I won't be able to accept.