Time Experience Thoughts

The Things of Mom On the occasion of her moving out of her home, and giving up and giving away the stuff of her life’s accumulations Things   Whether “dust collector,” simply useful, or family treasure. . .     Impossible to measure. Memories   Regrets? (“Too few to mention.”) Overcome and offset     By a thousand beautiful memories . . . impossible to forget. Reach   An Eternal chain of new “Dollybabes” are the results of her instinctive divine maternal impulses. . .     Impossible to number. Her Soul   The depth and breadth of the tears she wept     on behalf of loved ones here grieved   Echo in the eternal realm and are felt     by dear ones who long before us have left    This frail existence, but who now know where they are what we must here accept     to appreciate thereby the heights with them later to be received.       Her joys and glories and ...

Family History and Temple Worship Scott L. Vanatter, May 18, 2014, Chantilly Ward #A1. PERSONAL EXPERIENCE As a convert, Nauvoo the city Joseph Smith founded and named in 1839, has always held a special place in my mind and heart. I have been fascinated and inspired by Nauvoo -- the name, its Hebrew meaning, even its sound, its history, and more importantly, the doctrine revealed there -- the ultimate in Mormon theology. The ennobling doctrine that we can be sealed to our loved ones in the Temple as part of God’s whole family in heaven. ##1 Sacred Experience (Nauvoo Temple) We were fortunate to be able to serve as patrons in the Nauvoo Temple the very first week it opened in 2002. I had several Vanatter family names with me so we could do all aspects of temple ordinances, from baptisms for the dead, confirmations, and ordinations, to initiatory, endowment, and sealings -- sealings of spouses, and sealing of children to parents. Actually, it was my mother and one of my sist...

The Center Through the heart and words of a natural mother AND through the heart and works of a natural genealogist, Mom (Grandma Dot) is at the very center of all that is important. Connecting our hearts and the generations.    Looking back (and forward), seeing past an earthy veil    Into the heart. Love no longer lost, the chain no longer frail,     Is now rebuilt and an inherent part . . . Of those we knew. But being separated     Here in our own time . . . And forgotten. Are now recovered and remembered --     With faint inklings sublime. Weak links, now strong. Those long asleep, now awakening,     No longer alone. She, at the center point of our shared existence, connecting     Our Hearts and the Generations. Now one -- and known. (Poem by Scott L. Vanatter, written Feb. 26, 2014, in honor of my Mother’s 80th birthday.)

Scott L. Vanatter Opening Time seemed to stand still. A woman drove her car through a red light, crashing into Becky’s side of our Volvo. We had a green light all the way. I was driving. Our car flipped over, then spun around and around crossing two lanes of opposing traffic. The sun roof popped off. Windows shattered and glass spread throughout the car, and our hair, and our clothes, and our pockets like a shower of hot water. After the car stopped spinning, it was resting upside down on its roof on the curb on the opposite side of the street, a twisted pile of metal, broken glass, and dripping engine fluids. Then, my dear sweet young unconscious wife, seven months pregnant with our second daughter, suddenly went into massive and violent seizures. Blood seemed to be coming from everywhere. After what seemed an eternity, but which probably only lasted for about a minute, her seizures violently stopped. Then it was perfect stillness and absolute silence. In that moment it appear...

As Always (Daughter, Sister, Wife, Mother, Grandmother, Great Grandmother, Friend and Genealogist) Every word she speaks Every time we meet . . . No wonder we seek Acceptance, received As always so freely And consistently     Offered No trouble, no matter our grieving There's no end to her reaching     Our souls Never doubting, we believe Nothing wavering, we cleave     Unto her, naturally This is no Dream, but Real . . . And we see     Her Eternally By Scott L. Vanatter, poem written Feb. 25, 2012 for my Mother's 78th birthday.

See three new power words f or the boys below -- for discusssion during our week together in Kansas visiting Grandma Dot for Thanksgiving. (New words in blue.) ~ Passion Focus Honor ~ T hink, T ough H abits E xcellence A ttitude N umbers S kills W . . . E . . . R . . . I . . . S . . . L . . . O . . . V . . . E . . . . . .  

Gentle words Washing over us Since before we can remember Loving heart Entwining with ours Every minute we’re together Acceptance Without condition Effortlessly felt in our soul Genuine Impulses of love Constantly, gently make us whole The Fullness Of this pure sweet love Penetrates to our very core Filling us With such perfect peace Forever never wanting more Scott L. Vanatter, 11-12 March 2008 (Poem for Mom, late for birthday 74, early for birthday 75)