Tombstones

I like running in graveyards. That's what I did this morning. It was misty and a few wayward turns in the Avenues brought me to the Salt Lake City Cemetery.

I like knowing that my heart is the only heart beating for acres. It makes me acutely conscious of my existence. I'll become a tombstone one day, too. But for now, my bones are my own! The very stars course through my veins! Isn't that something?

I like reading tombstones. Even sad ones, like those of babies who didn't last 'til morning. I think of all the anguish their parents must have suffered, how awful it must've been to have something given and taken away so quickly--but look! The child's parents are right there! Under their own tombstones. Everyone's together again, finally. Isn't that something?

Down another lane, I pass a small hillside of tombstones all written in Japanese characters. Dozens of them--friends, relatives, neighbors, who knows?--all gathered together in their own little borough. Isn't that something? That even in death, we just want to be near each other?

Cemeteries and tombstones aren't monuments to death and loss, but to life and love. I think that's why I like them so much.

I Dreamed A Dream

That my weekend rocked. OH, WAIT.

It did.

So maybe we're a little obsessed with Les Miserables. I've already written about my long-running love affair with this story. The only person I know whose passion for Les Mis  equals mine is Brock. We have the score memorized. Brock has read all 1,400 pages of the novel (I'm in the beautiful throes of it right now). We cry every time to we see the play. And we've watched the following trailer an embarrasing number of times:

So naturally, when I heard that the 25th anniversary Broadway tour was stopping through Idaho, I had to surprise Brock with tickets. We listened to the entire soundtrack during the five-hour drive to Boise, and again on the drive back down. (Including the actual play, that's three times in twenty-four hours. WE'RE LOSERS!!!) The production was incredible, of course. But no revolving stage, surprsingly! They made up for it with other cool visual effects and staging, but I did miss it in the final battle scene where everyone dies on the barricade. Oh, well--that was a very minor grievance amidst all the things they did so well! Like Javert's suicide, Fantine and Eponine's death scenes . . . I get tingles just thinking about them.

For reasons besides the obvious, our weekend was lovely. We went to Boise on Saturday to catch the Sunday matinee, but we'd already had a good dose of art before then. On Friday evening we went on a gallery stroll around SLC with some friends from church. One of them, Ehren, is a local art critic so he served as our guide. Our other two friends that went, Phillip and Krysta, work as architects and they actually helped design  one of the galleries we visited! Do we have cool friends or what?!

Once in Boise, we stayed with Brock's aunt and uncle--they stuffed us full with crepes, Asian pears, fresh carrots from the garden, and delicious apple pie.

Friends, family, art, music, food . . . like I said. This weekend rocked.

Malachi 3:10

Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.

Stories abound in Mormon lore of people receiving specific blessings after paying their tithing. I am blessed in many ways, but I don't have a story that I can directly link back to being a result of my tithe-paying.

I pay tithing because it's a sign of gratitude for all I've been given. Each month, Brock and I cut a check, hand it to the bishop, and that's that. I have faith that those tithing dollars are appropriated, well, appropriately--but sometimes, just out of curiosity, it would be cool to know that $X helped buy pews for a new meetinghouse in Rio de Janeiro, $X paid for the apartment of a young missionary in Ghana, etc.

But today as I was reading in Exodus 30 (oh yes, I was reading IN THE OLD TESTAMENT...are you impressed??), I figured out what each tithe I give specifically "pays" for, in a sense.

From verses 15-16:

15 The rich shall not give more, and the poor shall not give less than half a shekel, when they give an offering unto the Lord, to make an atonement for your souls. 

16 And thou shalt take the atonement money of the children of Israel, and shalt appoint it for the service of the tabernacle of the congregation; that it may be a memorial unto the children of Israel before the Lord, to make an atonement for your souls.

Atonement money.

Tithing is a way for me to show gratitude for my blessings. My health, my husband, my loving family, the country I live in, etc. But somehow in that mix, I forgot that there really only one blessing that I'm paying for: My redemption.

OH HAI THURRRR

Not like you noticed, but it's been almost three weeks since my last post. I had to turn in my beloved Sony Vaio over to Best Buy's Geek Squad for a tune-up. New battery, AC adapter, CPU fan . . . this baby's back in action. See 0:55 - 1:40 for a visual metaphor. Simba = laptop, Rafiki = me.

Anyway.

Highlights from the past little while:

• Greek Festival! Or as I like to call it, the Eat Festival . . . because that's pretty much all you do there. Unless you're five years old, in which case they have a giant inflatable sinking Titanic ship to slide down on. TOO SOON, GREEK FESTIVAL. The food was freaking delicious though. We tried a little bit of everything: Dolmathes, keftedes, spanakopitka, loukoumades, tyropita, melomakarona, kourambiedes, galotopita, and the best grilled chicken I have ever tasted. Check out pictures and recipes here!

• Shot the tube with friends! (For non-Utahns: See here.) Brock bought an old Samsonite suitcase at DI for $5, took it apart at the hinges and BOOM. We had two water sleds. I never would've thought of that myself, but I've got to give him credit. It was genius.

• Explored the Timpanogos Caves! It's a pretty gnarly hike up and down, but well worth it. Inside, we got to experience total  darkness for the first time, which was very cool. The kind that your eyes will not  adjust to no matter how hard you try. On our way back down, a little girl on the trail (probably three or four years old) grabbed Brock's hand thinking he was her dad. They walked together for probably five steps or so when Brock says "Um, I'm not your daddy. But you can still hold my hand!" She looked up at him and burst into surprised/scared/embarrased tears--poor thing! She started laughing as soon as she was in the arms of her real  daddy, though. Too cute!

• Watched my cousin Peter perform stand-up comedy at Wiseguys! He killed, as usual. Check out the group he performs stand-up with here. They are all so talented. As a woman has has tried--and bitterly failed at--stand-up before, I am acutely aware of how hard it actually is! Peter and his friends make it look effortless.

• Drove the Alpine Loop! Autumn reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks were on full display--I caught my breath more than once.

• Labor Day! We spent time with family up at Brock's grandparents' cabin (my favorite place in Utah) and wiled away the day in Park City going on hikes, visiting an art gallery, and stopping by Olympic Park.

• The Holy War. This was more of a lowlight rather than a highlight, but still. Do the final eight seconds of a football game get any crazier than this?!