Early to Bed? – -

All of us have heard Benjamin Franklins famous quote “early to bed and early to rise makes a man health wealthy and wise.” The older I get the more I understand this concept. My teenagers are the last ones to want to go to bed early, and if we would let them they would sleep-in until noon. Maybe that’s why they’re so poor and are always asking for money. Despite this habit they seem to be quite wise – at least they think they know everything- just ask them. Over the years we have tried to stay up until they come home from their nightly activities – this is most difficult on the weekend when their curfews are a little later. The older children correctly point out that the younger ones get away with murder compared to what they did. I think over time we understand a little more what are the important battle that need to be fought – and to not fight every battle like I use too. For the most part staying up late has been my job and I rather enjoy it. Maybe that’s why I’m so poor, but I don’t have anyone to ask for money. Lori doesn’t mind it either because she likes to know what they have been up too. But she’s not a late night person and finds it hard to stay up too long. Now I wish old Ben had said early to sleep not early to bed – if that was the case I might be a wealthy man. I like to sit up late reading or listening to music on the coach waiting for the kids; sometimes it’s just nice enjoying the silence. The older I get the more trouble I seem to have completing the task. I sit down with good intentions, next thing you know I’m sawing logs – or reading the inside of my eyelids. Occasionally when the kids get home they have a hard time waking me up. A few times I’ve woken up at two or three in the morning needing to go to bed, I don’t think this qualifies for the early to raise part of the equation. Neither does the fact I need to get up to go to the bathroom all the time. This doesn’t only happen just at night – we sit down to watch a movie or a T.V. program and next thing you know I need to push remind it to see what is going on. I’m sorry to admit it, it also happen at church, I’ve been told I’ve missed a couple of great sermons, but I’ve also been told I was the lucky one as I’ve missed out on a few travel logs or ramblings. At least I haven’t been like Eutyclus – the young man talked about in Acts chapter twenty, the Apostle Paul spoke so long he fell a sleep and fell from his third story perch to his death. Thankfully Paul had the authority or power to raise him from the dead. Oh well – these aren’t the things Ben was talking about. In my case I really do have a clearer mind and can get more done early in the morning. This is very obvious as well when I’m saying my prayers – during those late night prayers you'd think I’m reviewing my whole life only to relies it’s hard to sleep on your knees. Occasionally half way through I wonders what it is I’ve even said. But in the morning I seem to get a little more inspiration and direction – I can think out my choices and problems with a clearer mind and resolve. Benjamin Franklin was a brilliant writer, inventor and statesman – how can I argue with his experience of what part of the day is the most productive.

Mt. Rushmore –-

There are a lot of famous spring break spots – South Florida, Cancun, San Padre Island, Las Vegas and much more. Normally they all have a couple of things in common – they are warm and there are a lot of other kids as well. Because of so many kids, there are always a few that are willing to do anything – I mean anything. This is the last place parents want to take their kids - if the kids wanted to go the last people they would want to be seen with would be their parents. But there are tons of other locations that would suffice – there are thousands of miles of warm beaches.

One spring break we came up with the perfect location and mode of transportation. We decided to make the great America trek that everyone should do in his or her lifetime. Mt. Rushmore – now because we have a big family and grandma and grandpa decided to tag along with uncle Donny we didn’t want to take two cars. Thus the reason we rented a fifteen-passenger van. One of our kids was overseas for a schooling experience, so there were nine of us. We could have gotten away with a smaller van but the extra space was a wonderful blessing – can you say sleep city baby? Because the adults were willing to sit up front and close together it left the back four rows for five people.

The problem in the Rocky Mountains and driving to the Black Hill of South Dakota is the weather in that area of the country doesn’t know if it’s spring or not. The problem my daughter saw is that this trip was headed north not south. From our house this trip is a dozy – farther than Disneyland and the sunny beaches of Southern California. Which would have been higher on most of the children’s – check that - all of the kids list of possible locations.

We stopped a couple of times each way and stayed twice in Casper Wyoming. It a little over half way from home, but most important is that I got a great deal on the rooms. We stopped at Independence Rock - kind of a cool spot that explorers and pioneers stopped to carve their names in the rock and to see if there was a message from those that went before. It got it’s name because those headed west needed to be there before the fourth of July in order to make it safely through the mountain passes ahead before winter storms could over came them.

The second day was a shorter dive into the Black Hills – we drove northeast and stopped at Jewel Cave. I love exploring any cave that has an elevator that takes you to the bottom. This is also when the weather started to be a factor on our journey. It started to snow as we approached the cave and then after the couple of hours under ground we returned to the surface to find a couple of inches of white stuff in the parking lot and on the van. Our then fourteen year old still talks about her lack of enthusiasm - sunny beaches or snowy canyons? We then drove to our home base Rapid City – we stayed at a new Hampton Inn that was really nice, I got a great deal on the rooms. Maybe that’s because there was no one else there – they had all gone south or had checked the weather reports. The indoor pool was great and the huge waterslide was a big hit. The only problem was that the water was cold – oh well I spent the whole time in the hot tub.

The next morning it was time to finish the journey to this massive American icon. We drove the thirty some odd miles passing all the tourist attractions and shops that were all closed since no one come to Mt. Rushmore at this time of year. We’re almost there! More than fifteen hours of driving, not to mention the ride home that is still ahead. Grandma and Grandpa had driven seven more hours just to get to our house to start the trek.

It’s kind of cloudy – but we’re having fun! We paid the entrance fee and went to the visitor’s center. Wait where’s the carving of the presidents? Behind the clouds! – Really? We couldn’t see a thing – nota – nope – nothing. We sat though a couple of films and displays – most of which I slept through. The rangers told us there have been times it stayed this way all day. Wow – did you really have to say that?

After about an hour and a half we found out that there is a trail that goes to the base of the monument – let’s do that maybe we can see something. We took a couple of pictures to prove that we saw a cloud on a mountain. As we made our way to the base – there I think that’s George Washington. It started to clear and yes it’s magnificent - we could see all four of them.

By the time we got back to the lookout it was as clear as a bell and we could now see the monument in its full glory. We had planned one day to see the mountain, we could have changed our plans and spent another, but that would have been a long ways to see a cloud! Our trip ended up being great, most of us still talk positively after all this time except our then fourteen year old – I think her friends came back from spring break with tans not frost bite.

Mom’s passing --

This story is one of religious significance and something that is one of my most precious memories. There’s a colonial children’s pray that begins - Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, should I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. The death of a loved one can be one of the most challenging and soul-searching events someone can go through. The way it happens can bring extra closer or leave thoughts of I should have or could have done certain thing before the unexpected event. When my father passed away it was after a seven-year battle with Alzheimer’s, there were no quality goodbyes or a chance to rectify regrets or sorrows. His passing was in reality a celebration, the freeing of his soul or spirit from his prison of confusion and forgetfulness. But the thoughts I’m sharing aren’t of his life or death but those of my wonderful mother. She was a widow for ten years and during that time she never lost her love or desires to be with my father again. She lived a full life and continued to enjoy her family and the events that were important to her. But after close to fifty years of a loving companionship there is no way to fill the void and loneliness that comes to anyone that loses their eternal companion. With such a large family I think most of us thought there was no time of possibility to be lonely, but that loneliness wasn’t because of not having someone to associate with - but for the loving interaction that comes with years of pains, joys and the personal relationship that is developed or earned over time. One of the tender mercies of my life was the night that I went to my mothers house to borrow her quilting frames for my daughter. We sat in her living room and talked for more than an hour, she bore her soul about how she missed my father and we talked about old times, we laughed and shared our love for each other. This was less than a week before she passed away from an unexpected heart attack. It was the last time I was able to talk with my mom. That hour reminded me of the times we use to sit up late together watching old movies, playing games and talking. That evening will be one that I will never forget – I’m so glad I took the time to spend with her instead of just running in and taking the frame as I had intended. Upon relaying this experience to my brothers and sisters you could see the envy and wanting they shared to have one last event like this. I wasn’t the last of the family to talk to her before her death but I was the last one to spend time talking about what she was feeling and the desires to be with dad. A couple of days after her passing I was up late preparing a talk to give at her funeral. I was struggling to formulate the message I thought needed to share. For years we had a family newsletter that all of us were suppose to write in. My wife kept them in a certain location down stairs. But that night I went to a cupboard in the kitchen and found three of these letters not in the proper location - all three were written months or years apart, each included a letter to the family from our mom in which she bore her testimony of the Savior and the truthfulness of the gospel. She expressed her love for each of us and talked about how proud she was of the way we had all turned out. I received the strongest feeling that this is what she wanted me to say at her funeral. At that moment out of the corner of my eye I saw her in the room smiling and knew that she was influencing the preparation of my talk to express her love and faith to those that she loved one last time. This event was only for a short moment, but one of the most spiritual event of my life. My faith of an after life is as strong as any belief that I have. I can envision the embrace and wonderful reunion that she had with my father and how they spent time renewing their love and excitement of being together again. Their lives have been the greatest influences in mine – their faith and example are the shining star to leads me in my darkest moments. Indeed they continue to influence my chooses and faith and will forever.

Nieces and Nephews –-

I talk a lot about my family. I have a lot of great stories about being a son, brother, cousin, husband and father – but more people call me uncle than any of the others. Well let me rephrase that – more could call me uncle, most of them call me Paul. Let me explain how many people this includes. On my side of the family my brothers and sisters have fifty-one children. Twenty-seven boys and twenty-four girls, when you add my four girls and one boy the numbers even out at twenty-eight a piece. One of my older sisters has been married twice and he new husband has three children from his first marriage – so when you add up all the columns then minus my kids (because they don’t call me uncle) there are fifty-four from my side of the family.

Now for the other side – Lori’s parent have twenty-one grandchildren, sixteen girls and five boys. When you add the sixteen kids that aren’t mine to the fifty-four on my side of the family – Lori and I have SEVENTY nieces and nephews. Now I’m not going to get into the ones that are already married and how their spouses can call us that too, or the fact that many of them have children of their own and what are their kids suppose to call me?

The part that is important is the roll that I have played in each of their lives. That roll has been drastically different on each side of the family. Being one of the youngest in my family I have nieces and nephews that are in the mid to last thirties – when they were littler I was the rowdy one, the one that would get them all wound up then let their parent try to settle them down after I was gone. We also have lived closer to my family over the years so they have seen me far more than those in Lori’s family.

In her family I’m an old man and there are uncles far younger than I am and who have taken the rowdy or awesome status that I once held on my side. That side still has babies being born and we have to go to Chucky Cheese and Disney Movies, the majority of them are still in elementary and middle school. Get together are more subdued and far less competitive than the Champlin reunions or get togethers.

The one that has the hardest time at my wife’s family function is our son because of the lack of testosterone – the closest male cousin is four years younger and there is a huge difference on four years as a teenage. At the Champlin functions there’s tons of male competitive energy – and we never see hide or hair of him. All of these kid's – teens - adults have special events and milestones in their lives. They have become old hat in my family, so if you can’t attend one of these events it really that that big of a deal. It may be that you can’t attend because you have such an event yourselves. But in my wife’s family it is still new and so it’s a big deal and if you can’t go you better have a note from your doctor or lose one of your appendages.

These kids are the same as most kids, some of them think the world revolves around them and others you wouldn’t hear a peep from them. Some are ugly and look just like me including the loss of hair – when it comes down to it looks don’t matter neither does what they do for a living or what they are studying in school. What matters the most is that they are family and we love each one of them despite their strengths and weaknesses.

Friends? –-

For the most part I think I’m a nice guy. I’ve never been arrested; I haven’t picked a fight for thirty-five years unless you count church basketball. I guess I’m quite opinionated and a little sarcastic – but I don’t think I force it on anyone. Maybe it’s just hard to be around some people for an extended period of time.

I’ve had a lot of friends in my lifetime – the ultimate word is had. Now before you start feeling all sorry for me I still have friends and some of them are ones that I want to associate with. But some of them are outright vocal that they’re my wife’s friends and I just come with the package.

Women just seem to have closer and longer-term relationships than men do. We had a group of friends that we use to go out to dinner with on occasion, after a couple of moves we still went out to dinner but it just not as often as before. It seemed that every time it happened I was the instigator – so at dinner I announced the next time we go out one of them needed to set it up and give us a call.

Well that was eight years ago, and literally we haven’t seen one of the couples since then. The other couple we bump into once very few years but they have never given us a call. I can envision their ride home from dinner that night – ALL RIGHT! He’s not going to call us again. In their defense we did move a couple of times, but we have always been with in an hour of each other. I wish this were the only example that I had.

There is a local politician that acts like we are the best of friends until the election is over then I might see him in four years. When he ran again I got a call from his wife and she wanted to have me write a letter to the editor for his campaign. I couldn’t because his opponent was a friend of mine as well.

I had a co-worker that I talked to a couple times a month for more than ten years; we even went to lunch at least once a month. He got a promotion and moved to another location and I’ve talked to him twice in five years – both times I made the call.

My two best friends in high school each live within a couple miles of our house, but we haven’t hung out or done something as a couple since high school. Some people could argue this is a gender thing because my wife doesn’t seem to have the same problem, but maybe it just a me problem. She sees someone that she hasn’t seen for a while and they start up right where they left off.

My wife has been going swimming with one friend three days a week for more than fifteen years. On more than one occasion I’ve asked her friend what she wants for birthdays and Christmas, I think they talk about every thing. I think there are some simple answers to this problem; my best friend by far is my wife and I really don’t need many more. I think this is true for most men, so I don’t make those friendships a top priority. Women on the other hand need to have close friends that think like they do and have the same interests.

My wife belongs to a quilting group or I think they call it a guild, they get together and make parts of each other’s quilts and talk about the kids and what’s going on in their lives. When men get together we talk about anything but feelings and what’s going on their personal lives. Thank goodness for sports! I grew up in a family with six sisters and my wife has four sisters and only one brother. That mean there are a bunch of women that will tell each other everything – the greatest is when they get on the birthing process. No I don’t want to trade them places, but I don’t want to hear about it either. The bottom line is that I have a lot of acquaintances that would say we’re friends of some sort – but don’t worry about getting together.

Ugly Brother -

Coming from a large family it’s amazing how much we are alike. I’ve been told genetics have a huge part to do with how we look, sound and act and even what our personalities trait may be. But there are a lot of things that are learned and are the results of our own choices. What we do with the circumstances we are placed in will dictate the outcome of our happiness and the directions in which we progress. I have three brothers and despite the fact we all have made our individual choices there are a lot of similarities between way we act and function in certain situations. I use to think they were pretty ugly until I realized I looked just like them. One day I got a call from my older brother who said he couldn’t do it anymore – I wanted to know what the “it” was. He said, “I can’t be nice to all these idiots that think I’m you.” Now this is hard to take because he is eight years older than I am – this is kind of like the story I told about my head and that I look ten years older than I am. One day I got a call from an acquaintance of mine that I don’t see very often that was a little offended. I’ve offended a lot of people in my life especially when I played sports, but I had no idea what he was talking about. He called to give me a hard time because I was so rude. He'd seen me at a local store and waved, apparently I didn’t wave back. He thought about it for a couple of days and it started to bug him. Now this is someone I actually like and would have waved because I wanted to, not just to be cordial. I started to apologize and then asked when it happened. He told me and I realized it was when I was out of town at a funeral more than a hundred miles away. I told him my excuse and who it most likely had been – then I asked him to do me a favorite, next time it happens walk up to me and slap me across the side of the head. I believe this is the perfect solution! First if it's me and I’m that rude then I deserved it and if not it would pay back one of my brothers for and the abuse they gave me over the years – either way it would make a good story for the next reunion. Now when we are all together you can tell us apart – I’m taller and better looking than the others and the one just older than me has more hair. The two oldest don’t have any more hair but they would have a big lump on their rear ends because of how money they have in their wallets. Now we all must have OK personalities because none of us married ugly women and for the most part our kids are cute. For being cousins some of them could be mistaken for brothers and sisters. Most of them have one thing in common they’re embarrassed by their dad’s. All of us are pretty competitive and we use to play sports together – when the kids started getting older it was them against the old farts. The bigger and stronger they got the weaker and slower we became and forget about being able to jump anymore, so we had to use other tactics to compete. Now they think it dirty, but it’s just that we know how to throw them off their game. But this is a little off the subject. The reality is that my brothers are great guys, men, friends and someone if I’m mistaken for is all right by me. They have become some of my idols, and someday I hope to be more like each of them especially the lump on their rear ends.

Humanitarian Service –

I’ve already written a story on Community Service – as I have donated a half a billion hours to a number of organizations. These are great and might get you listed on a program or plaque. Humanitarian Service is different in my eyes; this is when you do something directly to help someone else in need or who is less fortunate. This doesn’t make you noble or better than others, but it sure makes you feel good if you do it for the right reason and with a pure heart. There are a number of ways to do this; sometimes it’s by giving financial assistance to curtain organization that span the world looking for disasters and those needing assistance. For many years we have given such donations almost on a monthly basis. But these can also be done in every location in the world and especially where you are. I also love it when I’m able to do it anonymously. This isn’t the view of all philanthropists, we live in a small University town and half of the buildings on campus have the same name on it. Now I’m glad that they are willing to give to higher education and if I had that much money maybe I would do the same thing. One billionaire also donated for a building and named it after his father-in-law that didn’t have much money. My first anonymous humanitarian service wasn’t even my idea. My father knew of a family whose circumstances were desperate, so he bought a couple of bags of groceries and asked me to go with him to deliver them. Because he didn’t want them to know who did it, he asked me to take them to the door and ring the doorbell and run away. He said I was much faster and he would get caught. Now I had doorbell ditched before and now my father was telling me it was OK. In one of the bags was a large ham – I loved ham and when we got home the dinner mom made didn’t look as nice as that ham did. It took me a number of years to understand that my father was fast enough to get away and I was there for more that just my speed. I wish I could say I do this kind of service on a daily basis, but I don’t. I think all of us could do it more often. When I do it, it’s usually a small event that is only known by myself and those with whom it serves. This past year I was involved in an event that wasn’t small and was known by thousand of people. I’m a member of our stake presidency - this is a group of people that oversee a number of congregations within our church. In this stake we have approximately four hundred young men and women from the age twelve to eighteen. Every other year we have a youth conference where they all get together to sing, dance, play and hear some motivational speakers. Normally we go to another location so we have their undivided attention. A couple of years ago we decided to do something different – lets give them a chance to work their tails off. Now how do you get four hundred kids to be excited about working hard for a few days? 1^st – you need to have tons of food. Young men will do just about anything if they think they’re going to get a lot of food. The girls will come if they think the boy’s will be there. These are secondary reasons the main one is to let them know we’re going to help people that can’t do it for them. If we can help others, have fun and have a lot to eat – what great lessons they would learn. Part of our stake is in an older part of town where there are a number of disabled, widows, and single parent homes that need fixing up, painting, and cleaning up - basically doing something for someone who couldn’t do it for themselves. We wanted it to be done right so we convinced thirty contractor, professionals and knowledgeable individuals to over see each project. Our greatest challenge was to finance the project. It was my assignment to figure that out, it ended up being easier than you might have thought. After a few phone calls and personal appointments we had secured money from our churches humanitarian division, from individual members of our stake and also from Logan City. Apparently there are federal funds to fix up low income housing, as long as we met curtain criteria these funds are available. Why wouldn’t they want to donate – we match their funds with more of our own and then we provide all the labor and expertise. In all we spend sixty thousand dollars and donated six thousand five hundred hours of service. We worked on more than thirty different projects. We served by providing new roofs, sprinkler systems, painted houses, landscaping, new driveways and much more. Each family we served received a new quilt. A couple of months after the project I had the opportunity to go to one of the houses to talk to the recipients, they were so excited for the service that was rendered. He talked about the kids and how excited they were to be there. He said; “here we’re the ones needing the assistance and they are thanking us for the opportunity to work on our house.” When things needed to be done that we were unable to do, professionals were hired to make sure it was done right. Many of the workers after they knew what we were doing refused to accept payment for their services and others gave us a discount. As projects were being finished the kids wanted to go to the other projects to help them rather that to go home. Yes we still had firesides, motivational speakers, a dance and lots of food. But the greatest reward came from the faces of both the recipients and the kids as they helped others, those that couldn’t do it for themselves.