Marie's Baptism

This is Marie.  I am excited to get baptized.  I got my interview today. The bishop asked me a question of why I want to get baptized.  My answer was that our sins can be washed away.  I know that our sins can be washed away because Jesus atoned for our sins.  I am getting baptized in Idaho Falls.  I hope that you guys can come.

Gratitude, Preparation for Loss, Endurance & Joy

 A year ago, I was a hot mess. Well, at least more than usual. 8 months pregnant and a 30 days to find a new place to live with 3 kids at home. Life was... lemons. As I wrote previously, I wasn't sure what the Lord had in store for me. This was a mean trick, especially after all the praying and fasting I had done to ask that the Lord help us live in the right house before moving to Virginia a year earlier.

 

Good news. We now live in the right house. It's smaller, but less expensive. We live in a great neighborhood. Our school is good and Marie's 2nd grade teacher was sweet and kind.  But our Ward... the Vienna 2nd- is everything I have needed in a ward. I meant to write a post about gratitude in October. To comment on the lovely little co-op preschool our ward does and how many friends Mina had made. How my visiting teacher, Cami White, cares about me and takes care of me. How our home teacher, Lance Walker, remembered my birthday while Brett was working out of the country. How the primary class I thought I couldn't teach turned out to be the most smart and mature bunch of kids, and how Marie was in there. So many things.

But I didn't know why I was really in that ward until Nigel passed on.

Nigel died April 12, 2016. It wasn't until then, and the crazy events surrounding his death did I realize the Lord was taking me out of my former, pretty good situation, and putting me EXACTLY where people would love me, invest themselves in me, and catch me when I needed it most. He was preparing me for loss by putting me in a good situation.

I am so grateful.

 

Some of what the Lord does takes forever to understand, but this lesson, it took about 10 months.

 

 

Nigel once said to me, "Rachel, don't have 5 kids. Have an even number. One always gets left out."   

Poor Nigel, born #3 of 5 kids, smack in the middle. He felt like he had no partner. We all loved him, but I think he always felt a misfit. But the real truth is, that his placement was no mistake. He was the center. He would connect us. He always brought our family back together.

 

Note: the picture below has a twin and I am bound to find it. Taken 20+ years earlier at the Yellowstone Continental Divide, we ranged from 2-9 years of age .  I love it, because he's not in the center in this one, he connects Marcus to Malcolm. And I connect Jesse and Marcus, aligning us tight together where we belong. It reminds me to be a better person. As close to the Lord as Nigel was, so that I do my part to keep us together.

 

 

 

 

Another trinket about Nigel is how relaxed his sense of humor could be. He was probably closer to Brett than any of my brothers. A lot because he lived with us for a year, but also because he was just so silly and easy to make Brett laugh.

 

 

He LOVED birthdays. Didn't matter if it was his or not. Just loved a good time and wanted everyone to be happy.  He never grew out of this.

 

 

He also love my kids. Above is him and Marie at 2 months.  He babysat her and she fussed and fussed. But he patiently held her in his big arms until she fell asleep.

 

 

 

I ache that since we lived in Japan during most of Mina's life that I have really only this picture with him and her. It was taken at Yellowstone in 2014 after we moved back to America. Mina is most like Nigel out of all my children. A little stubborn, a little wild, very caring, and all heart.

 

 

 

This also was taken at Yellowstone. Though his last years will always be marked by his struggle with schizophrenia, it will also be marked by his strong desire to show his family, especially his nieces and nephew how much he loved them.

 

This picture is the final one I would take of him. I am so sad when I see it. Showing him Eve for the first time. He, in all his sickness barely able to convey emotion the way he wanted. But his eyes say it all. He loved that little girl. Full confidence in her goodness and what she and her sisters will do for the world they grow up in.

Maybe it doesn't make me sad.

The terrible loss of him brings me closer to the truth. What is real. What matters. His death sets me on that straight course back to God. That course, though strict, has many happy and joyous moments on it; Marie's baptism, more family time, more lightness through leaning on Christ. Maybe it brings me joy.

 

So thank you for reading, if you have made it this far. I will wrap it up with a picture of a good moment, and a poem from my late Grandmother Lucille Perry.  

 

 

 Quaint witcheries of memory

Enchant the past days I have known;

Mundanely lived, now poetry

With all prosaic features flown. 

 

Move #8

I am happy to announce I reached my goal of ignoring my blog for a really long time.

Actually, I've deferred to writing in the physical form of the Millburn family journal. However, I think the following post should be left somewhere in cyberspace for our posterity to find. I will never know if the physical forms will be lost or even make it through the next move. Which is what I am about to talk about.

7 moves. 9 years. I don't think that's something to brag about, but its just life. Most all of the moves were anticipated, planned months in advance, and had much excitement built up for them. In the next two weeks we will move for our 8th time. Unplanned and unprepared for.

Its a local move, so its not like the Air Force had anything to do with it. More of a long winded story about a landlord who was not easy to deal with in the first place and who decided that selling his 60 year old house was best.

But I'm pregnant. And about to have this precious baby in 4 weeks. The same week the lease is up. And there is no paid team of professional movers provided by the Air Force.

For the record, I just didn't think it would happen. When I got pregnant last November, a happy little surprise, I thought, "Obviously we wont move in August, because that is when the baby is due." And I recited that for the next 8 months.

Yet here we are and I have to confess I can't remember the last time feeling so overwhelmed, shocked, and heartbroken. I can barely make dinner without getting tired. So packing a house seems like a punch in the face. Not to mention leaving the few friends I have made. Mostly, my good friend Shazia and her family whose children my kids love, her oldest daughter who is the worlds best babysitter, and not to mention our much needed "grown up" chats after taking care of kids all day. She is my first Muslim friend and I am her first "American friend" she calls me. I love her and her family very much and am not looking forward to not being able to see her every day or every other day.

The first few days of this shock were a dead end. Especially the parental guilt you feel when you know you are going to change your kids life.... again. My dad was here though, just for a casual visit at first. But later it turned into a "how much work can I get my dad to do in 2 days" visit.

But he made me promise when I left I would ask my ward for help. A ward I don't really know as I've been here less than a year and been in primary (of course) the entire time. I finally emailed the compassionate service person and laid it all out for her. That felt really good. Sometimes its easy to feel like the people around you don't care or wouldn't be there for you, but that is just not the case. True, people are busy, but they want to care. And the Church is set up so perfectly organized that service can happen. Once I contacted one person the Relief Society president, Donna Doll, called me up the next day and offered every service in the world. Meals, babysitters, cleaners, heavy lifters, and my favorite, the Missionaries. I don't need meals, and shouldn't need babysitters, but when the Missionaries came over that day they did plenty of lifting I couldn't do. Simple things like lifting a box of books to take up stairs. Taking down the drapes. And hours in the garden that I had let overrun as I grew more tired with this pregnancy. Also, one the few friends I have from church watched the girls so I could girls so I could get more done. She has 3 tiny kids including a small baby. But I know the goodness in her, all the Christ like attributes she has came into play when she took the courage to ask if she could help. I know it wasn't easy, but she made it seem like it was.
It really is embarrassing to need help. But when people have Christ in their hearts they don't make you feel embarrassed, they just make you feel loved and lift your burden.

I love this church organization so much, because it brings my closer to Christ in ways I would have not designed for myself.

Our saga continues as we continue to pack and look for a new place, but my burden is lighter.

Reluctantly crouched at the starting line

Marie is Six

I

My angel turns six today. I told her six is actually my lucky number. She will be my lucky girl ( though she always has been). 

This is a second birthday in a hotel with store bought cupcakes and little to no fanfare. The last was when we moved to Misawa. Foreseeing this we celebrated last month with her friends, and for that I am thankful. We miss them, but at least we have friends worth missing. 

Here they are sitting on the floor of the hotel room ( the only place easy to clean up). Marie was a trooper. Moving is hard on 

her. She is highly sentimental and has always been so. It was lucky that Grandpa Millburn called to sing to her. Then later Grandma Y called and Marie said she "wanted to chat." It was very cute. It really put her in a better mood even though I am not sure how much she heard or said (she has had a hard time hearing us the last few days- I think we will have her see a doctor this week). The cherry on top was her Uncles singing to her. 

We spent most if the day at church and driving around looking for houses. Not fun, but we are grateful. The Lord watches over us and day by day will lead us to the right place for right now. Until then, we are a little... Tired.

Quick! Before they tear down the Castle!

 

We’ve got to make it to Hirosaki before they tear down the Castle. They will tear it down, move it, rebuild the foundation and move it back. Ten years is all it will take, but I am glad we made it before our trek back to America.

1930’s Travel Poster

 

So grab your favorite drink, seeded or nonseeded, and relax with us in Hirosaki.

We went on a holiday called Children’s Day. IT. WAS. PACKED.

We went on a Tuesday because Brett had been working alot of weekends and kind of made up for it by taking off a regular day. With the holiday however, it was 10x as crazy as any other day. The
Japanese are serious about the few holidays they get. They are out and about and they LOVE nature.

Gracie is loving life, my little cherry blossom!

It was a beautiful, sunny day, actually hot for April. (The weather April-May has been pretty amazing- its been nice to spend so much time outdoors before we move and the tsugaru (rainy season) starts).

We promised Mina if she sat through millions of picture we would get her soup. Yes, soup. And we delivered.

I’m never quite sure if I should take Marie’s glasses off, but it’s nice to see the face under the spectacles. She’s a sport either way though. The bridge behind us is bridge in the travel poster and the bridge I am standing on in the next picture.

Getting a picture on the bridge in front of the Castle was not going to happen. I had to run into this huge crowd and stick the camera up in the air to get this shot. Glad it turned out!

 

There are over 2600 Cherry Blossom Trees at the Hirosaki Castle. Its worth the 2 hour drive Gracie, trust me.

This will have been our 4th time in Hirosaki, and every time is truly a good time. Fall, Winter, Spring we have loved it. They also had some hand woven baskets I had my eye on for a few years. I promised myself I would get one, but with the holiday- the prices went up from 5,000 yen ($50) to 20,000 yen! ($200)! Yikes, no basket for me. Maybe next time Hirosaki!

 

Good food, good times, and we were good and worn out.

Arigato Hirosaki!