The overall theme of my life this past month has been one of complete and utter love, and this weekend has held strong to that theme.
I was lucky enough to attend Time Out For Women in Orlando with my wonderful family and friends -- My cousin's wife, Heather; her sister, Bethany; my mom; and my cousin, Natalie. Unfortunately, I lost my camera on the last day somewhere between our hotel and the convention center, but I found myself not getting as angry or upset as one would normally be. I mean sure, there was that moment of panic, annoyance, and anger at myself, but I thought how stupid I was for feeling that way about such a materialistic thing. Then, I realized maybe I wasn't angry because of the actual camera or the memories for myself.
For those of you who are unaware of the fact, I am a major pack rat. I hold on to those little handouts they give with inspiring quotes during young women lessons at church. I held on to that party hat from the birthday party I went to four years ago. Little trinkets like that. I have kind of slowed that madness down and thrown some stuff away in preparing for college, but the reoccurring theme in my collecting these things hasn't necessarily always been that I want to save these little things for myself, but for my children. Yes, it's super girly and a little strange for people to understand this thought process, but here it goes...
I thrive on stories. Not just fictional stories, but the stories I hear from family and friends. I know that's normal, but I think it's so cool when there's visual aid involved in those stories. I remember pulling out my mom's senior memory book from high school and seeing all these news clippings, tickets, choir concerts she participated in, and all these little awesome trinkets that added vividness and flavor to the story of my mom's senior year of high school. So, I save these things and take a million pictures so that my children can actually see, feel, and know my journey on this earth and what a beautiful ride it has been. I want them to understand where I came from and vicariously where they came from so that we can be connected in that and be drawn closer because of that.
So, as I've sat and contemplated my level of being upset over this camera that has pictures of memories I will forever treasure, I've had to pause and reflect on if it was even important to hold these memories in picture form for my children to see and know. It is important, but I can retell those memories in journal form to my greatest ability. What I think is most important, though, are the notes I took throughout the conference. I gained greater insight as to the mother and wife I hope and pray to be. My testimony of my divine destiny as a daughter of God was magnified and made strong. I felt my Savior's love for me once more, with a deep and radiating warmth within my heart. To me, that will allow me an even greater connection to my children. Those are the things that will be carried with us after this life is long gone, and for that I am forever grateful.
I was lucky enough to attend Time Out For Women in Orlando with my wonderful family and friends -- My cousin's wife, Heather; her sister, Bethany; my mom; and my cousin, Natalie. Unfortunately, I lost my camera on the last day somewhere between our hotel and the convention center, but I found myself not getting as angry or upset as one would normally be. I mean sure, there was that moment of panic, annoyance, and anger at myself, but I thought how stupid I was for feeling that way about such a materialistic thing. Then, I realized maybe I wasn't angry because of the actual camera or the memories for myself.
For those of you who are unaware of the fact, I am a major pack rat. I hold on to those little handouts they give with inspiring quotes during young women lessons at church. I held on to that party hat from the birthday party I went to four years ago. Little trinkets like that. I have kind of slowed that madness down and thrown some stuff away in preparing for college, but the reoccurring theme in my collecting these things hasn't necessarily always been that I want to save these little things for myself, but for my children. Yes, it's super girly and a little strange for people to understand this thought process, but here it goes...
I thrive on stories. Not just fictional stories, but the stories I hear from family and friends. I know that's normal, but I think it's so cool when there's visual aid involved in those stories. I remember pulling out my mom's senior memory book from high school and seeing all these news clippings, tickets, choir concerts she participated in, and all these little awesome trinkets that added vividness and flavor to the story of my mom's senior year of high school. So, I save these things and take a million pictures so that my children can actually see, feel, and know my journey on this earth and what a beautiful ride it has been. I want them to understand where I came from and vicariously where they came from so that we can be connected in that and be drawn closer because of that.
So, as I've sat and contemplated my level of being upset over this camera that has pictures of memories I will forever treasure, I've had to pause and reflect on if it was even important to hold these memories in picture form for my children to see and know. It is important, but I can retell those memories in journal form to my greatest ability. What I think is most important, though, are the notes I took throughout the conference. I gained greater insight as to the mother and wife I hope and pray to be. My testimony of my divine destiny as a daughter of God was magnified and made strong. I felt my Savior's love for me once more, with a deep and radiating warmth within my heart. To me, that will allow me an even greater connection to my children. Those are the things that will be carried with us after this life is long gone, and for that I am forever grateful.
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