Letters to Santa

Well, the semester is winding down and you know what that means.  I’m spending WAY too much time cramming every piece of information into my already stuffed brain.  So, when my mom mentioned her preschoolers had written letters to Santa, I was more than happy to take a break and read them.  Here are some of the gems written by 4-year olds:

Dear Santa…

·         Merry Christmas.  Thank you.

·         Am I on the good list or the naughty list?

·         I believe in you.

·         Why do you come down the chimney?

·         I want an Ipad. 

·         How does your reindeer fly?

·         I want to play with you.

Reading these sweet notes, brought a little more magic to the Christmas season and  made me even more excited for the wonderful Christmas season. Happy Holidays!

A Treat Called Love

When I was growing up, my dad traveled for work.  A lot.  In fact, he was gone so much that at one point he actually had an apartment in California, and only came home to Utah on an occasional weekend.  I loved when my daddy came home.  Why?  Not all the sentimental reasons that a little girl should, but because every time he came home he had a package of these for me waiting in his pocket.  

I always swore that the M&Ms tasted like the location they came from.  How I loved the tropical Hawaiian M&Ms, which tasted much different from the boring Utah M&Ms.   It wasn’t until years later, that I learned my dad actually bought the M&Ms from the gift shop in the Salt Lake Airport.  I had been eating Utah M&Ms all along--- the different flavors I adamantly claimed I was tasting, really didn’t exist. 

Well, this past month my dad has been on a couple more business trips, and each time he’s come home, he’s  returned with M&Ms in hand.  Last night, as I was munching on some Boston M&Ms I realized that I wasn’t wrong, these ‘business trip’  M&Ms really did have a different flavor. They tasted like love.  They were purchased by a busy man, to show that he had missed his children.  As I realized  this tasty treat was a reflection of my dad’s love, they became even tastier.  Now I understand why I always looked forward to receiving my package of M&Ms.   They were a simple reminder that I was loved, and love really does make everything even better.

A Lesson from Dolls and Barbies

When I was younger I loved playing with dolls.  I spent hours playing house and taking care of my precious dolls, Popsicle and Vacuum. (Yeah, don’t judge… I wasn’t the most creative when it came to naming my toys).  I really wasn’t much of a Barbie girl, which could have something to do with the Guillotine Barbie incident that my older brother orchestrated, but I loved my dolls.

This week as I was thinking about my carefree days as a kid, I realized that the toys I’d played with as a child had an important lesson to teach. 

My cabbage patch doll didn’t have the same body type, fancy clothes, or luscious hair as Barbie; but I loved her.  She was the perfect size to snuggle with, and she served her purpose perfectly of being the baby whenever I played house.  Just as Popsicle was the perfect playmate for me, Barbie was the perfect playmate for my younger sister, Camille.  Barbie wasn’t a good option for something to cuddle with, but she was just right when it came to being Ken’s friend, and driving that sweet, sweet Barbie Jeep around. 

These two different toys served their purposes perfectly.  Now, I would have never been happy with Popsicle, if I was expecting her to be a Barbie; and Camille would have never been happy with her Barbie if she was expecting Barbie to be more like a Cabbage Patch Doll. 

It seems ridiculous expecting a Barbie to be a Cabbage Patch Doll and vice versa, yet how often do we try to fit ourselves in a mold, when we would be happier and better off just being ourselves?  We live in a society that is obsessed with physical appearance and tries to dictate what size we should be, how we should dress, how to style our hair, what our make-up should look like…. and ultimately who we should be.   While we absolutely should strive to be our best, we should keep in mind that what’s best and works for someone else  may not be what's  best and works for us.  So, instead of killing ourselves trying to be someone we’re not, we should focus on who we are, and work at becoming our better self instead of a mediocre someone else. 

Looking over my life, it's easy to see I’ve wasted  some of my precious time and energy wishing I was someone I’m not, when I could have spent that same amount of energy improving who I already am.  From now on, I’m going to focus on being the best Clarissa I can be, instead of hoping to be a mediocre someone else.  So here’s to being the best me, whoever that may be!

Woman, Why Weepest Thou?

This picture is hanging on my bedroom door and I see it each time I enter or leave my room.  I have always loved the story the picture tells.  Christ died and then was resurrected but Mary hadn’t learned of his resurrection yet.  She finds the empty sepulchre and assuming the worst, she’s filled with great anguish.  Certainly she loved and believed Christ, and was mourning the loss of a great friend, but maybe there was more than that.    Maybe she was filled with doubt.  No one had been resurrected before.   Maybe she doubted her faith in Him; maybe she was beginning to think He was gone forever.  While she’s grieving, Christ comes to her and asks, “Woman, why weepest thou?”

These simple words have been echoing in my head all day.  Mary was mourning because she missed her friend and because she was filled with doubts about the promises Christ had made.  Maybe her plans and expectations weren’t happening like she’d imagined.  Whatever the case, Mary was heartbroken and the Savior asked, “Woman, why weepest thou?”  

Like Mary, I am also heartbroken.  I am mourning the loss of a great friend and relationship.  I am doubting the promises Christ has made to me and it appears my plans and expectations aren’t the same as the plans the Savior has for me.   For the past year, I’ve had hopes and dreams and have envisioned a not-too-distant future that will never come to pass.  And it’s in this moment of my heartbreak that I can almost hear my Savior say, “Woman, why weepest thou?”

Though this relationship may have ended, Christ’s promises to me are still real and I need to trust Him.  One day, I will be blessed with my greatest desire… to be a wife and mother; to have a family of my own to watch after and love.  That day just may not be as soon as I had anticipated.  So for now, I’m going to try and let go of my doubt and fears and  trust the words of my Savior and His love, because He will never lead me astray ; and if I give my hands and my heart over to Him, He will heal my pain.

Two Years

A few weeks ago, our entire family (yep, all eight of us) climbed into our van.  It took a while for all of us to climb in because a) we’re a big family and b) the sliding door is broken which means all of us had to climb in using only the front passenger’s side door.  At the time, the van seemed way too squishy, and we couldn’t get out and away from each other fast enough.  We really wanted more space.  

Once again today, all eight of us climbed inside the van, using only the front doors.  We all sat in the same seats, but things didn’t seem so squishy.  In fact, I was dreading the moment when there would be more room.  The moment when Matt would step out of the car, put on his name tag, and leave us behind for the next two years.   

Two years seems far too long to go without hearing another “Matt Gregory Original” on the guitar, or receiving a random text telling me the latest joke, or to hearing Matt’s contagious laugh and seeing his beaming smile.    So much can happen in two short years, and I know there will be some special moments when I’ll long for Elder Gregory to be here.  But then I remember that our family is forever, and we are forever because missionaries found us, many, many, years ago.  And when I think about Matt being that missionary, bringing more families together for eternity, two years doesn’t seem long at all.

My Mom's Shoes

     As a little girl I would raid my mom’s closet, find her high heels, and stumble clumsily around our house in them.  I dreamed of the day, when I would grow up and finally fill her shoes.

     Well, it’s been twenty years since I first dreamed of filling her shoes, and I’ve realized I never will be able to.   But, I can follow in her footsteps and get pretty close to the path she’s created.

     My mom’s footprints are all filled with a common theme, love.  Whether it’s love of our family, love of God, or love of others… the theme is always there.

     My greatest desire is to reflect the love my mom has shown to my family, to a family of my own.  As a youngster, I was a momma’s girl and would often panic if left alone--- even with my dad.  Why?  Because everything is okay, as long as mom is around.  Even when my world seems to be falling apart, my mom’s loving embrace and her soothing words makes E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G better.  Everything.  Including when I was learning to ride a two-wheeler and totally crashed my bike, had to deal with mean bullies, learned I couldn’t get a driver’s license at 16, and the time I watched a good friend pass away.  Because of her constant love, I have always known everything will be okay.  I hope to reflect this love to my future family… and it is because of her example that I look forward to motherhood and all of the love, joy, and challenges it will most certainly bring.

     My mom’s love of God is yet another way I hope to follow in her footsteps.  She knows her Heavenly Father, loves him, and will do all she can to serve him.  Often, this is through her service in the church.  My mom gives everything to each calling she’s ever been given.  Her most recent calling has been in primary, and she loves it.  She spends hours upon hours each week preparing sharing times, attending presidency meetings, and finding creative ways to share her testimony with the children in her ward.  She knows God loves her; she loves him, and wants to share this love with everyone!  Because of her example, I have always known about my loving Heavenly Father and have in turn desired to share this love with others.  If I can fulfill my callings even half as well as my mother I’ll be doing fabulous!

     My mom’s love of others is yet another example I want to radiate.   My mom’s philosophy is to love others, and let them decide what to do with it.  Just this past month, she demonstrated again the importance of loving others.  We have some difficult neighbors, who have children that often roam around the neighborhood, destroying property.  One day, I came home from school rather annoyed.  A few of the children were throwing gravel in the area where I park my car.  They had been told numerous times not to play in the area, and I was irate. Being the mature adult I am, I stormed into the house and vented to my mom.  Instead of getting angry she found some candy, and went to talk to them.  She was able to show them she genuinely cared and as a result they have reflected kindness back.  This is just one very simple example of her ability to love everyone.  She has literally touched countless lives with her love, and I hope to fill my footsteps with this same kind of love.

     Because of her amazing example in every aspect of her life, I don’t imagine I will ever fill my mom’s shoes; but I can definitely follow her footsteps.  And maybe, one day, when the journey of life is over--- I’ll be able to look back and see my footprints of love following closely behind hers.

Another Year Bites the Dust

Assuming I’ve passed all my finals, I can cross another year of pharmacy school off my list!  Since I began school in August I’ve taken out enough student loans to cover my $20,000 tuition, spent $500 on books, made over 2,000 flashcards, took 4,000 sheets worth of notes, spent over 1,000 hours studying, taken 36 tests, spent 300 hours commuting, and written 10 papers.  I guess you could say it’s been a rather demanding year.  Looking back over the past 9 months, I have learned a lot both inside and out of school.  Here are some of the lessons I’ve learned during my second year of pharmacy school:

1.      It is possible to date while going to school.  Yes, I know this was a shock to me too.  I never imagined I would have enough time to be a student and actually have a relationship with someone.  But, it did happen and has been oh so perfect.

2.      I love retail pharmacy!  I always imagined I’d end up working in clinical pharmacy but I love retail!  It is so rewarding to counsel so many people every day and really feel like you’re making a positive difference in their lives.

3.      I really like Chinese food.  Like, a lot.

4.      Holding the pharmacy law class at 7:30 a.m. is a cruel and unusual punishment.

5.      It’s a really, really bad idea to B.S. papers.  Just ask my management group.  We B.S.ed a 20-page paper about pharmacy work-flow, and our professor loved it so much she wanted us to present it to the entire pharmacotherapy faculty at a staff meeting.  Yikes! 

6.      The heated blanket is the best invention ever and whoever invented it should receive a Nobel Prize.

7.      I am actually capable of teaching relief society.  Though I always had the “I am going to vomit” feeling before giving my lessons, once I actually began teaching I L-O-V-E-D it.  I loved all the insight I gained into gospel principles, I loved the stories that the sisters shared, and I loved getting outside of my little shy bubble and sharing my testimony with others.

8.      Spring Semester really should be called winter semester.

9.      Making different medications and then counseling on them in compounding class is a blast!  Pharmacy students are probably the only students who get an A for telling their  professor to go stick something (suppository) up their rear.

10.  Dante’s Peak is not nearly as scary as it was when I was 9.  In fact, I think I’m starting to get over my irrational fear of volcanoes.

11.  Pharmacy school takes over your life, including your thinking.  I’ve recently fallen into the habit of deciding what type of a drug a person would be.  For example, some speakers in church have been an Ambien (sleep medication), while other people have been Fosamax (bone strengthing drug) to me, and I’ve loved my dose of Prozac (antidepressant medication) I’ve gotten every time I’m around Rick.

12.  Automatic doors don’t open during power outages.  Assuming the doors will open, results in a bruised ego.

13.  After graduating, I want to teach!  I’ve discovered my love of teaching and I hope to teach part-time at SLCC and work part-time as a retail pharmacist.  This seems like the perfect combination.

14.  You are never too old to fly kites, feed ducks, swing on the swing, or play tag.

15.  I have the most amazing family and friends!  Thanks for helping me get through another year.  I couldn’t have made it without all of your love, encouragement, and support!