Mary Webster

Saturday, April 17, 2010 ~ There is a funeral starting as I type these words and while I am not there physically, my heart is. This post may take a few days to write. How do you sum up your relationship with someone who has touched your life so profoundly? And the thing is, I know that I was not an isolated case. I know the chapel will be filled and so many more like me who can not be there.

Mary and Wayne Webster are second generation orchardist in the Hood River Valley where I grew up. The Webster family and orchards have been foundational in the development of our small town. If there was such a thing as rural royalty, they would have been it for the valley. As a kid, I thought they could be royalty because of their financial standing. As I grew older and saw their example, I understood they were royalty because of their character.

My first memories are of Brother Webster as the Bishop of our ward. My first memories of tithing settlement are with him. I think my testimony of tithing first started with the good feelings I had after our family met with him.

I became more aware of Sister Webster as I grew older. There was a time with things were financially tough for my family and the church helped us out with food. My mom would let them know what we were in need of and an order would be placed. The problem was that sometimes not everything would come. I remember once the order came and while the peanut butter arrived, the bread did not. Mary showed up a bit later with shopping bags filled with bread and a bunch of fresh produce.

With 6 kids and many a health problems, my mom was not the most organized of housekeepers. And she liked to sew and had a great weakness for fabric. Sister Webster saw a need and talked to my mom. For the next few months she and another sister from church came once a week for 3-4 hours and helped my mom wash, catalog and organize all of her fabric. When they were done, my mom had a 3" binder with bits of fabric stapled to the pages listing the yardage and what box it was in and there were 67 apple boxes of fabric sitting on new shelves. I really can't explain what that service meant or how she endeared herself to our family. In her quiet way and with her cheerful smile, she never judged my mom, but she truly inspired her to do better, to be better. My mom would work extra hard on cleaning the house the night before the "sisters" were coming. She taught my mom, but she also taught us girls even though we were never there (they would come while we were at school.) Each of us have our own fabric and things organized much the way Mary taught my mom.

A few months after they finished the fabric organization, our home caught on fire (the dryer had an electrical short.) It was an extraordinarily hot fire that melted the appliances. The smoke and water damage were severe and most of the house was lost. A day or two after the fire, Bro. Webster called my dad and asked him to stop by the house, that he had some clothes to give him for us. My dad stopped by expecting a bag of clothes by the door. Instead, Bro. Webster took him into his bedroom and opened his closet and told him to pick some suits. In the end, my dad left with more than one suit, his size, straight from Bro. Webster's closet.

In the weeks following the fire, a mammoth mountain of charred remains grew in our front yard as we emptied the house to begin reconstruction. I know that my parents were beginning to worry about how we were going to afford the bill to the dump to get rid of it and how many trips/Saturdays it was going to take. Then one day, it was gone. The Websters had brought in a dump truck and their own orchard work crews and spent the day taking care of it. Not only did they pay for the truck and the dump bill, they paid their workers' wages even though they were not working in the orchard. A bit later, that same crew was paid to sheet rock our house. We moved in that evening. Looking back, I honestly do not know how we would have made it through that time without the Websters. They were angels and the gratitude I feel still makes tears trickle down my cheeks 24 years later.

Over the years, the Websters annually arranged (and I believe sometimes funded) for the performing groups from BYU or Ricks College to come to our little tiny town. Lamanite Generation, Ballroom, Young Ambassadors, Folk Dancers, Showtime Company, and all the choirs came over the years and everyone from miles around came. I was a senior in high school when Showtime Co. came and I LOVED it. I cried when they left and that day walked into the guidance office at school to figure out how to go to college. I spent the next few nights writing essays for every scholarship. I called Mary Webster for tips on how to get to Ricks as her son Scott was a year ahead of me at school and he was there. Four months later, I was a freshman at Ricks College. I applied for the crew and made the cast for Showtime Company. Over the next two years I traveled all over the British Isles and the US with that company. A huge, huge blessing in my life that started from their selfless efforts.

As a single adult, I got a call from Mary one day asking me if I would be in a melodrama for the next ward activity. She was in charge of the Ward activities at the time and they were AMAZING. She figured out ways to involved every. single. person. in the ward. I especially remember the New Year's Eve dance that she organized. It was a night in Paris - complete with a city scape, the Eiffel tower, flower shops, sidewalk cafes, and street lamps. We worked for days setting it up and I had so much fun. I couldn't believe the work and detail she put into every little thing.

More than just their example and service, Mary and Wayne Webster have deeply influenced my life. He was the Patriarch who gave me my blessing. I was the second blessing he gave - his son was first. I know that they helped financially so that I could serve a mission. When I was married in the temple, they paid their orchard crews to landscape their already beautiful yard and hosted our wedding reception.  They attended my mom's funeral and a few months later, their son shared this story at Wayne's funeral. He said that as he was helping his dad into the car after my mom's grave side service that his dad said that he didn't know how much longer he wanted to be around. All of his friends were passing on. I was so stunned to hear that. That he considered us, my parents, our family his friends. Even though we were such different economic circles, we were not a service project to them. We were dear friends.

Mary passed way this past week.  I am so happy for her. She and Wayne are together again and I know that my mom will so happy to see them. I am crying, but they are happy tears. My dad heard the news yesterday and changed his plans to drive 4 hours one way to attend the funeral on behalf of our family. I so wish that I could go home today. To be at the funeral. To pay my very deepest respect to an amazing woman. To mourn with her 8 children and 32 grandchildren and 2 great-grandchildren. Biologically, we are not related, but I love her as deeply as a mother, sister, and dear friend. Instead, I record my experiences with her and publicly thank her for everything she did for me and my family. Next to my family, the Websters have had the most profound effect on my life. So many things that I hope to be were first shown to me by her example. Literally.

Goodbye sweet Sister. Until we meet again, God be with you~

Here is a link to the tribute her family wrote on their business blog - The Fruit Company

Notebook Memories - Things I always want to remember...

Ryan singing to himself in bed tonight - "The hills are alive with the sound of music La, la, la, la, la." He has the song stuck in his head and has been singing it off and on for the last week or so. Tomorrow night is opening night for his school musical "The Sound of Music" (Yeah Savanah!) and the choir has been practicing during his choir hour.

This reminds me of last year when he was singing all of the songs to Mama Mia! all the time because my friend Alisa played it all the time when she gave him a ride to my school everyday. 

Gotta love when good music gets stuck in their heads!

And on that note - ;)

let me share with you Ryan's science project. I have 3 glass jars in my bedroom window right now with 3 styrofoam cups full of soil under them. One has my iPOD ear bud just above the soil and the little seedling is listening to hymns all day. Another has Ry's ear bud from his MP3 just above the soil and is listening to everything on Ry's MP3. The third is listening to silence. We plug in the devices in the morning and the seedlings listen all day and then I recharge them at night. He is measuring the effects of music on plant life. Is it wrong for the mother in me to be rooting for one seedling over the other? I will let you know the result in two weeks when he finishes the project. 

Lastly- 

Tonight the scouts started working on their Physical Fitness Merit Badge by running 1 mile - 2 1/2 laps around our church and parking lot. One boy in the group fell a lap behind and was struggling a bit to finish. He passed the other boys who had just finished and started on the last lap. After a few minutes, three of the boys who had just finished and were still breathing hard, got up and ran the last lap with this boy. One boy ran behind him with his hand on his back pushing him while the other two boys ran along side. As the four passed me, I listened to these sweet young men encouraging him on, "Come on dude, you can do this. Think of those linemen, we gotta outrun those linemen. Hey, look, we are almost there, you're doing it! Don't stop now, you can do this." Ryan and another boy were about 3/4 of a lap ahead of this boy so they didn't run with him until the very end but as he got closer to the line, they ran out to meet him and cheered him in. I was so proud of these young men tonight and felt privilege to see a glimpse of the men they are becoming.  

A few years ago someone pointed out to me the difference between teenagers and youth. They noted that the leaders of the church ALWAYS  use the term youth. We all know what connotations the word teen or teenagers brings up. We discussed the difference with the word youth. Youth is encouraging, hopeful, active, full of life and ambition.  Youth implies leadership, respect, goals, and solutions. Teen is, at times, a disparaging remark, implying troublemaker, disrespect, lazy, and uncommunicative and is usually followed with a sigh or an eye roll or both by adults. I have remembered the conversation and try hard to always use the term youth. I even call my 3rd graders young men and young ladies. 

Tonight, these 12 yr. old young men really touched my heart. 

Aimless, Pointless, Going in Circles

I am not much of a writer but I have a desperate need to give voice to my feelings of late. This not meant to be depressing in any way - life is good and has been steadily improving over the last year. My canoe has steadied and the seas have abated. Now, I feel as if I am looking over a large expanse and don't know to which direction to paddle. Perhaps because the school year has started, I feel as if I am paddling in a circle - covering the same waters only without the storm. Things are easier. I can breathe. But I find the scenery uninspiring. I greatly fear that my current teaching position will very likely kill my love of teaching. Today, another teacher with years of experience, said that she had never felt so overwhelmed. I gulped and said nothing. I feel like I am being asked to make a complex recipe for paint so that I can paint a paint-by-numbers poster of a masterpiece when I so much want to just go out in the fresh air with paper and colored pencils and draw all the masterpieces of my soul. I am trying to trust those who know more than I. I keep telling myself that if I just follow the instructions, it will all come together. I don't want to come away from meetings depressed and overwhelmed. I want to be inspired & encouraged. I want to feel like part of the army in a great cause making great progress. I want to teach for the love of teaching and learn for the love of learning. 

Part of the problem is that I know where I would like to go, but I have no power to get there. I am on this river, in this canoe. So where to I paddle to now? Sometimes the crossroads of choices are just as daunting as the journey themselves. I found this blog the other day and I have been inspired. It is the blog of a young woman (20 yrs. old) who is a teacher & missionary in Uganda.  I would love to do something like this. I don't know if my heart could handle it. I don't know if my body could handle it. But I think that my spirit would thrive. Then I think that maybe I have been "called" to where I am at - inner city kiddos. It is only the second week of school and I am already tutoring one kiddo after school, mentoring another and donating to get another into orchestra. And I do love that part. I truly love these kids, seeing their progress. They do know that I love them. I just feel so unsatisfied. I want more. I overheard teachers talking today that they were upset with the new requirements this year - "they are making us educated them for colleges none of them will attend and not letting us prepare them for life." My heart broke - I want to believe, no I need to believe, that some of them will love learning. Some of them will grow up to fulfill their dreams. To be astronauts and doctors, scientist and writers, artists and authors. 

My aimless feelings lately seem to be touching every part of my life. Sunday, as I sat down in church, I felt, for the first time in my life, like I didn't belong. It was a silly feeling. I greeted friends. An acquaintance reached out to me. I felt like I helped another. I came home with renewed inspiration to be better. Yet, I didn't feel like I belonged. It is such a disquieting feeling - not knowing where "home" is or what mission in life the Lord has for you. That feeling of there is something for you to do but you don't know what it is or how to figure it out. 

I feel very aimless as a mother as well. I really struggle with being a working mother. It was never modeled for me so it feels less than. The longer I work the more convinced I am that mothering is about TIME.  The more I work the less I seem to have of it. I try to focus on what I do get done but often that short list is clouded by the mountain of undone things. Yes, I tucked him in, sang to him, talked or tickled for a few minutes. But I had to cut it short to work on lesson plans due the next morning. It was hurried, rushed, and I know he felt less than most important. The fallacy tears my heart. 

My personal life... not sure what to say here. The dreams continue. I wish I could just stop wanting what I can't have and learn to want what I do have. I want my heart to stop aching for a husband and children that will not be and embrace the career that I am blessed with. I get somewhat impatient with people who say, "never say never." I am not saying those things will never happen. But I want to stop aching for them. I want to forget about them and get busy loving every second of the life I have and then be pleasantly surprised if they ever do happen. I want the desire for them to abate because it can hurt so much sometimes. 

I do feel very confused of late. I had an amazing time in Nauvoo. Before Nauvoo, I felt like I was just being pulled out of the refiner's fire. I felt strong & proved, but also covered in soot and smoke. Nauvoo dusted me off and polished me up. I came home with the old twinkle in my eye some 13 years gone. I still do feel that. Nauvoo gave me a glimpse of purpose, future and direction. I look forward to going back. I felt needed there. I felt called there. I want to feel that same feeling here in my life. I just don't know how to make it happen. 

So, I will continue to paddle, continue to check out the scenery, continue to assess the options on the map. I will try harder to see the dragonflies skiff along the water and look for some wildlife along the shore. Maybe, if I become very brave, I will try skinny dipping in the cold waters. Just to feel alive and because I can.