dear mom

So I have come to the conclusion that I am not so good with this blogging thing. Sometimes I make the excuse that I have nothing to talk about, but today, that is not the case.

Seeing that it is mothers day, and me being 655 miles away from my mama, I have decided to dedicate this whole blog to her.

so here it goes.

All while growing up I counted down the days till I would turn 18, graduate highschool and move out. My parents were counting down as well...

The summer after I graduated I finally signed my first contract for an apartment and started moving into "my very own place".

I didn't ever have to worry about being pulled out of bed or lectured for sleeping in past 9. I would never be grounded again.

Being away from my family, the parentals, rules and chores seemed like the greatest plan ever, which it still is, but then there are those moments... and sometimes days... when I wouldn't mind being "grounded". I wouldn't mind having to sit and listen to a long lecture from my mom about doing what your told, especially when I could later sit down to a feast of a

dinner that my mom prepared.

There are days when I want to be at home. When I want to wake up on a saturday morning before 9 and do chores. When I want to sit on the couch and have my mom lecture and teach me about what is right. When I want to clean up after my siblings and not my roommates. When I want to talk to my mom about anything and everything. When I want to "go to town" and the hardware store. When I want to ask my mom for a little cash to get a treater and not have to worry about how to pay my bills that month. There are days when I just don't want to be a grown up anymore.

Today is definitely one of those days. Today is one of those days where I want my mom. Where I want to eat sunday dinner and argue about who is going to clean it up. Today is the day where I want to be with my family when my mom realizes yet again that only a few of the children found something for mothers day and the others were simply just broke. I am one of those kids... but luckily my fingers are not broke.

so Mom,

Thanks for grounding me.

Thanks for feeding my teenage sassy mouth.

Thanks for saying "that's too short" or "brush your hair"

Thanks for teaching me how to clean, cook, bargain shop and how to 'get to work'.

Thanks for teaching me what is right.

Thanks for having a family and teaching me that I should, even when the world doesn't think so.

Thanks for doing the nitty gritty with dad 9 months before april. (ah gross)

Thanks for the bed, the food and a safe place to come home to.

Thanks for always being good and setting an example, even when life isn't so swell.

Thanks for being cool. where do you think I got it from?

If there is anyone in the world that could be anything, it is you. You have shown me that motherhood is more important than being the CEO of a company or even the president of the United States.

So Mom, thanks for just being my mom.

I hope to someday come across a person who had the opportunity to know you, and have them say to me, "wow, you remind me of your mom."

I love you mom.

R.I.F.H. (read it and weep)

It's been too long...

So long in fact, that I feel like everything in my once so boring life has drastically changed into an exciting and busy adventure.

FALSE.

Exciting and Busy are not the words to describe this adventure called life... boring still fits...

I just wanted you to get through the first sentence, anticipating the part where I was about to tell you something awesome like, "I'm Engaged!!" or "I'm prego!" but no. nothing facebook status worthy. (I'm still waiting for results for the second one anyways... JUST KIDDING... mom)

In light of all my empty and lonesome blogging days, some things worth informing my viewers of have occurred.

I've settled back in Zion. For those of you who aren't familiar with that term... don't go look it up on wikipedia(It will only make you think I'm talking about Jerusalem, or some holy Mountain). Zion is a place I call Utah... still. I migrated back here in october with my sister Emma. Why you might ask? Honestly, I don't really know. but probably the Same reason thousands of LDS people back in the 1830's decided to cross the Country to Utah. For a better life of course!

It's been great so far and I've enjoyed being back in zoobieland.

Well, by this point you're most likely hoping to read something about my joys of being surrounded by thousands of young LDS single adults, my lame excuse for moving away from wonderful washington, or maybe even wondering why I titled this entry: R.I.F.H.

I'll expound on my reasoning behind this epic title, and get to the part that I most wanted to tell you all about.

R.I.F.H. stands for 'Rest In Fishy Heaven'.

yes, I believe and HOPE their is a fishy heaven somewhere up there... at least, for the sake of my dear aquatic vertebrate animal friend who once was apart of my life. His name... was Mr. Asa.

The Story Begins...

He was a small highlighter green Sun Glofish. He was borned into my life, five months ago on September 17th 2009. I was still living in washington, not yet aware of my decision to move back to utah. All of my college bound friends from the summer had made their way back to school, and some of the male buddies that were filling the social part of my life were soon about to serve the lord in some distant land. I was left deserted. My social life was a blah and each day felt like a waste of my mortal existence. I was left to lead out my sentence of bekahhood in Richland washington, where it seemed like every 18 through 25 year old person was not present.

My last connection to social sanity, and the final member of the friendship clan was soon to leave on a 2 year mission. His name was Asa. We filled our nights with Hans Zimmer movies, puzzle making adventures, and epic story times, while sucking the last juices of delicious otter pops.

Before he entered the world of righteousness, on one of our final days together... I explained to him my soon to be negative situation. He came up with an ingenious idea, and told me to

get a fish. Yes, a fish. As I thought more about this clever plan, I learned to love it. Each time I imagined my swimming FRIEND, I was happy, warm and fuzzy, and a bit excited for the friendship ahead.

The day after Asa entered the MTC, and after the sadness of freindlessness had disintegrated a wee bit, I decided to adopt my fish.

I grabbed my car keys and the last bit of social-hungry eagerness left in me, and headed to the nearest pet store. As I walked through the large doors of Petsmart, I smelled the essence of friendship. I walked down the long aisle of fish tanks where it seemed like each fish begged for my ownership. I had never been so wanted in my life. No offense to the 29,573 fish I had passed in the first 10 minutes, but not one of them seemed to be able to fill the fishy space in my heart. I was getting closer to the end of the aisle and the last bit of hope in me was quickly fading away. Thoughts like, "Maybe a fish isnt for me, I've always wanted a giraffe..." or, "I guess today was not the day..." kept entering my mind. I suddenly heard joyful and excited noises coming from my younger sister Holly, as she jumped up and down in front of a small tank at the end of the aisle. I hurried down to where she was, while the hope that was once fading away, now came swar

ming back like my excitement on christmas morning when I would be reassured yet again, that Santa really was real. There I spotted them. 50 or so tiny bright pink, orange, and green fish swimming around, each taking their turns to tap against the glass and imprint on my soul. I narrowed my selection down to one of each color and then decided to pick the green on

e. I had done it. I had chosen my fish and was then carrying him out to my car, anticipating the moment where I could take him home and officially call him mine. Later that day I decided to name him. A name that would live on forever through a small yet ever so important aquatic pal. I decided to choose the name that my missionary buddy Asa had told me to use and my green swimmer was then called Mr. Asa.

Weeks passed and I enjoyed the opportunity to take care of something so epic. Occasionally I would leave town for days at a time, and yet each time I returned... I would arrive home to his sweedish fish like self. There were times where my human like self would take over and my laziness would be shown through his fish bowl, but yet he never gave up living. He took dory's advice and kept on swimming. Belly side up was not an option for Mr. Asa

When I decided to move back to utah, I didn't once consider leaving Mr. Asa behind. I placed him in a sealed mason jar and we set off for our journey. He made it and was probably just as glad as I was to finally reach our destination.

Our friendship continued to blossom and each day I was more thankful for his fishy existence in

my life.

Then that sunday came. Sunday February 7th 2010 to be exact.

It was a regular sabbath day. The sunday rituals I took part of weren't any different than the ones before. I had noticed earlier that morning that the water in his bowl was needing a change, so I promised to change it after I went to learn about Jesus. I arrived home, changed out of my sabbath attire and headed upstairs to fulfill my promise. I grabbed his bowl and placed it next to the sink. I quickly glanced about the kitchen, hoping to spot the net that I would use to grab him with. It was nowhere to be found. I decided to slowly pour the dirty water out of the bowl, without placing a small container to grab Mr Asa with. If only I had realized sooner how foolish I had been. Mr. Asa followed the waterfall of fish feces infested waters down into the sink. I suddenly dropped the fish bowl, which I once called his home, and aquarium rocks dispersed everywhere. I reached for his tiny self but all I could do was gasp as I watched him fall down the sink drain. It w

as over. There was nothing I could do. I had murdered him. Taken his life away prematurely and all I could do was stand there with my hands clasped tight to the sides of the sink and my eyes wide open.

Later that day, as the horrible news made its way into the lives of loved ones near and far... I couldn't help but feel guilty for the accident that had taken place earlier that day. Positive comments such as, "He's swimming with Nemo now." "Don't worry, you're probably the last thing he saw before he died." and "Utah lake is his home now..." came from those who had the opportunity to know Mr. Asa. The one comment I continue to hold on to came from my Sister Emma, who probably knew Mr. Asa almost as well as I did. Her words were "Bekah, maybe he's still alive. In the pipes. Check your toilet." Oh how I wish...

I still remember Mr. Asa everyday. You might think me silly or severely adolescent and juvenile, but this fish had been my constant fishy companion for 5 months. He had been there on the lonely nights when my human friends were in distant places getting smart, preaching the word, and keeping each other company. I had come to love this small green scaly Glofish.

So I dedicate this blog to him. I hope he someday finds his way to fishy heaven, if he hasnt already... and that he rests in peace as my fishy friend. For he was a friend indeed.