It's about time...

This past week we have all had horrible colds and I have avoided blogging just in case germs are transferable via the internet. Sam, Oliver and I all take turns coughing and keeping each other up at night. Just as we were beginning to contemplate forming our own coughing choir, "The Hacking Harmonizers", things started to get better.

Being sick is pretty time demanding so we don't have much to update you on, but I will do my best. To begin with, Oliver got his first tooth. As of right now it is a cute little white bump on his bottom gum. He also had his six month check up and is doing great. He is a whopping 17 pounds and is 26 and a half inches long. Once again those measurements place him in the 50th percentile for both height and weight. Ollie has quickly become the most popular baby in our new ward (and there is quite a bit of competition). Oliver smiles at absolutely everyone. His favorite past time during Sacrament Meeting is to turn around and make faces at everyone behind us. I get stopped at least ten times each week by people telling me what a cute and entertaining baby I have.

Since our last entry we made a trip up North to attend the funeral of two family friends who passed away from cancer. While they may not be enjoyable, funerals inspire a certain introspection. The first funeral was for Vickie Bigelow, who has been one of our closest friends and neighbors since my family moved to Riverton 16 years ago. Vickie was always serving others. She was a list maker and I am sure that my own name appeared on her lists more than once along with special things I was in need of. While we were sick I pulled some blankets out of the closet and realized that Vickie had quilted both of them almost entirely on her own. I remember her at my wedding shower and again at my baby shower working away at the quilts and staying late to make sure that they got done. She was a doer and has left her mark in many ways. I started to think about traces of love and service that I have left in my wake and realized that I am sadly lacking. I hope I can be more like Vickie.

The second funeral was for Seth Shaffer. To me Seth was alway the red-head who sat on the second row in the chapel every Sunday. While I was never close with Seth, I knew his wife well and taught his kids in primary. As I sat at his funeral and listened to the awesome stories that were shared about him I realized that I had truly missed out on something special by not getting to know him better. I made a commitment to myself that I wouldn't find myself in that situation again. I want to make more of an effort to get to know that people that I associate with everyday. After all, God put them in my path for a reason and I am only hurting myself by not loving them and learning from them as much as I can.

In the end I just want to say that I am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who has a plan for all of us. It is comforting to me to know that Seth and Vickie are still Seth and Vickie, we just can't see them.