Honor thy Father and thy Mother

For this day of Light the World, I wanted to share just a few favorite memories.

My other mom, JoAnn Wimmer.  We have years of memories of swimming and prancing in the water together.   As we swim we visit and visit.  She has told me all her stories, and many have been told as we were jumping around in the water together. Some of my favorite times were when I had babies in my tummy, when we exercised with Karen, and in the condo pool Thanksgiving morning of this year.  She is 86 now, and I hope to have many more mornings in the water with her.  And isn't she just beautiful?!  I'm so glad I got her for a forever friend.

My mom.  Patty Nielson.  Some of my favorite memories of her are what a great mom of young kids she was.  I remember her hosting a bubblegum blowing contest one hot summer afternoon in Nevada.  She went to the store and bought a whole bag of bubblegum, which was an amazing treat.  Then she had to teach us how to blow bubbles (I must have been 5 or 6).  She taught us first to do it by taking the chewed up gum and flattening it with our fingers and sealing it around the outside of our lips and blowing a tiny bleb in the gum. (I've gotta try that with my littles!  It really teaches the principle of what you're going for in your mouth.)  Then we moved on to trying to do it with our tongues and teeth. And the neighborhood kids tried too, if I remember correctly.  She was always the fun mom.  She did the best stuff with us.  Just today I held my little ones like guitars and strummed their ribs, which I knew how to do because I was taught by the best.  They loved it.

One of my favorite memories of my dad was going on a daddy-daughter date in Show Low with him when I was about 6. I took a bath in the afternoon and got all fancy for our date, and I think my dad did too.  I remember he smelled good. I wore a long Sunday dress and brand new white clogs.  We went to a diner in the bowling alley.  I think my family showed up and ate at a different table, which caused me a little chagrin, but I still got my private time with my daddy even though they were spying on us.  I always knew he thought I was special and precious, which is exactly what girls need from their dads.  I think he also liked that I inherited his memory.  He loved to quiz me on family history names.  His eyes would light up when I could remember the correct order of Danish first and last names.  Peter Nielsen, Niels Jensen (there were a couple of Jenses and Niels I think--I've lost it now), Jens Barelsen, and Barel with an unknown father, last in the line.  Now he is the last living in the Nielson line--oldest of his generation, and his eyes still light up when I come in the room.  He still makes me feel like I'm his princess.