Goodbye Jordan Fowles

 I don't know how to write this.  I don't know what to write.  Facebook has created a whole new way to be social, and sometimes it leaves a person feeling completely blindsided.  On Wednesday night I got on facebook and found out that a friend, Jordan Fowles, died that morning.  He was one of my sister Sarah's best friends when she was a teenager.  They dated in college, but ended up marrying other people.  They remained family friends over the years.  Jordan and I connected as friends on facebook a few years ago.  We were surprised to find out how many similarities we shared.  My husband was a lawyer. Jordan was a lawyer. They were the same age.  We each had six kids, most of them almost the same ages.  We even both had daughters named Emmeline.  I greatly enjoyed Jordan's posts on facebooks and chatting with him that way.  It was especially fun to read about his job at google, which he clearly loved.

 As I scrolled through the posts on his facebook page, I just wanted someone to say it was a big joke.  I thought, "Maybe it's his birthday and this is some weird inside joke."

It just can't be real.

But, it is.

His car crashed into a tree and he was ejected and died at the scene.  His facebook page is flooded with memories and stories of what a great guy he was- no surprises there.

As soon as I realized it was real, I grabbed my phone and called my sister.  She doesn't get on facebook a lot, and I didn't want her to find out in some insensitive and shocking way.  She had already been sent two private messages.  My hands shook uncontrollably while we talked.

I've just been breaking down randomly throughout the day.


I didn't know Jordan well enough to write a lot about his life, but his facebook page clearly demonstrates who he was, how he served people, how he touched their lives, how he persevered through struggles and weaknesses, and how he loved his children.  The last post I saw from him was just after he returned from a family reunion in Utah with his kids.  He wrote "Home again, home again, jiggety jig".

And he is.

It's hard to accept the reality of a childhood friend leaving this life behind.  Too soon.

In thinking of Jordan's children, I can't help but think of my own kids, how it would be for them to lose their dad or me right now.  Their pain must literally be breaking their hearts right now.

This is a part of being a grown up that I have always dreaded.  Mortality. Death.

Still, there is comfort. Comfort comes from truly believing that life is eternal, that those who pass on live on as spirits and will one day be resurrected with their physical bodies.  Comfort comes in believing in the atonement of Jesus Christ and the power to be healed, not only from sins, but also from immense suffering and sorrows.  I pray that the comfort will eventually sustain those closest to my friend, that it will carry his children through the years ahead.

The sentiment R.I.P. is, well peaceful, but that is not really what Mormons believe people do after they die.  We believe that the work goes on, and I know that Jordan is not sitting around on a fluffy cloud playing a harp. He's working.  He's serving.

1. What is this thing that men call death

This quiet passing in the night?

’Tis not the end but genesis

Of better worlds and greater light.

2. O God, touch Thou my aching heart

And calm my troubled, haunting fears.

Let hope and faith, transcendent, pure,

Give strength and peace beyond my tears.

3. There is no death, but only change,

With recompense for vict’ry won.

The gift of Him who loved all men,

The Son of God, the Holy One.

Copyright © 2007 by Gordon B. Hinckley and Janice Kapp Perry. All rights reserved. This song may be copied for incidental, noncommercial home and church use.

Suckers are Sweet!

What happens when you combine sugar, more sugar, and flavoring?

I call it deliciousness.

More specifically, I am speaking of suckers. Homemade suckers.

I made suckers with my friend Janice last night.  Janice, yes, you just made it into my blog again.  It tends to happen if you hang out with me enough.  But, these weren't just any suckers. They were the suckers of my childhood.  Well, not specifically the exact suckers of my childhood. Those were all eaten. But these were as close as it gets.

apple cinnamon, wintergreen, and watermelon

The memories!  My mom was so awesome!  When I was growing up in Texas, we were allowed to bring homemade treats to school for our birthdays.  My mom always, and I mean ALWAYS, made homemade suckers.  If I remember correctly, she usually made at least two batches. That way, we had enough to take for our school treats, have some for home, and some for our birthday parties too.

They were so yummy!  I can still taste, feel, and smell a hot cinammon sucker, sliding it up and down on my tongue, mostly smooth, but a little bit of texture and taste explosion!  Wow! They were just hot enough.  I loved to flip the sucker over between licks.  I loved to dip it in a glass of water before licking.  I loved how long it took to eat it. These suckers were not the kind you would crunch, not until you got to the very end. These suckers were the kind you really would lick until it was all gone.  My mom made all kinds of flavors: watermelon, strawberry, grape, cinammon, apple cinammon, lemon, tangerine, fruit punch, mint, root beer. . . there were a lot of choices.  I liked every single one.

 A few years ago, my mom realized that her sucker making days were over.  Her kids were raised and her wrists were wrecked.  Carpal tunnel had taken its' nasty toll and she could no longer hold the heavy pot to pour out the molten sucker batches.  Getting old, well, let's just say that it stinks.

So, my mom gave me her supplies.  I used them once and then packed them away and kind of forgot about suckers for a while.  I had some pretty intense distractions, mostly my freak mouth problem.  Today is the 4 year anniversary of the day my mouth went crazy.  Fast forward.
A few weeks ago,my friend Janice talked about how much she likes suckers, so we decided to make some.

I got some extra flavorings and sucker sticks from the store.  My daughter Amy helped me set out the supplies.  And as we opened the box of molds, it was like my childhood was pouring over me.  It was exactly as if my mother had just used them a few weeks before.  I could remember eating suckers of every shape!  Dinosaurs, hearts, flowers, bears, mickey mouse head, trains, bunnies, apples, muffins, and stars. There was a Tuppeware container with her old flavorings, most of them still good.  I opened the apple cinnamon, and, instantly, I was 11 years old again.  If I were to assign a taste/smell to my childhood, it would be that exact apple cinnamon flavoring.

You know, I think it's kind of hard to lick a sucker and freak out at the same time . It's just a calming act. You have to slow down and lick it. Feel it. Taste it. Enjoy it.  Savor it.

And that is the feeling that came over me.  We made three batches. We used new flavoring for two of them- watermelon and wintergreen. For the other we used the apple cinnamon from my mom.  My entire house smelled like my childhood.  I'm sure to my kids and my friend it just smelled like apple cinnamon. My husband fled the kitchen to escape the spicy scent.  But, to me, it was peace. It was love and safety, service and sacrifice, calm and security.  It was my mom's love for me and my siblings, concentrated and poured into a mold with a stick, popped out into a beautiful translucent, tangible piece of joy.
 

It was magic. Last night, as I made those suckers with my friend and with my own 11 year old daughter, I felt the power of carrying on a tradition of love.  Yes, my daughter was a little annoying, as I'm sure that I was to my own mother . And, yes, we had a few mishaps, but for the most part, we enjoyed being together. The work became light as we talked and laughed and shared, enjoying the aromas as we worked.  I remembered what my mother taught me, and my hand was sure as I took the 300 degree mixture, boiling in the pan my mother used and passed on to me, and poured it carefully into the molds; my mother's molds.  I remembered how to use spoons to push down the sticks that popped up, how to reheat the mixture if it got too cold too fast, and how to carefully pop the hardened suckers out of the molds. And my daughter was learning, so that one day, she can remember.

You know you want one.

I guess, when it's all said and done, it really isn't about suckers, even though suckers are sweet! I mean, that's not why they are so special to me.  It has more to do with the gift of time combined with the joy of the sucker, the willingness of my mom to slow down and give us something that she didn't have to make time for, again, and again, and again.  Of course, she did this in so many ways. This is just one example.  It's a very happy, yummy example.  So, thanks to my mom, today I get to bring a big batch of suckers for my extended family to our 4th of July get together.  Anyway, it's pretty cool. And I know this post has been pretty SAPPY, but hey, it was about suckers!  And my mom!  And they are both awesome!  So, I guess to sum up my point. . .suckers are cool, my mom is even cooler, and I'm glad for both of them in my life.