Dear Bank Teller,

Ten years ago today, terrorists attacked our country.  I watched the news as the second airplane struck the World Trade Center in NYC.

And then I took our children to school and went to school myself.  For that day and then next two days all I could focus on was providing safety and normalcy to a small "world" of four-year-old children.  In spite of all we could do as their parents and their teachers and their neighbors, these children grew up knowing and understanding words like "bomb" and "hijack" and "terrorism."

But Friday came.  It was my day to catch up on all the daily stuff.  I went to the grocery store.  I cleaned the house.  And finally I got to internalize the tragedy for myself.  I saw the faces of people who lost loved ones.  I witnessed the pile of rubble where two majestic structures full of people had once stood.  I watched leaders of nations globally try to bring the nation--the world!--together. 

The rest of the world had had three days to begin to process the loss, understand, and begin healing.  It was Day One for me, and I was hurting horribly.

And then I came to the drive-through window at the bank.  You saw my tears.  You expressed your concern.  You shared the love of the Savior and your testimony of him.  You told me of the gratitude you had for so many wonderful people and for our church, all rallying together to bind up wounds, both physical and spiritual.

Do you know that you began my own heart-healing that day?

I remember 9/11.  I remember you, dear bank teller.

I will never forget.

Dear Elder,

You might be getting to know me as that crazy stalker lady on your blog.  I’d rather you know me as your mom’s friend at work, and maybe even as your friend someday.

The truth is that I’m just an old lady (J) who likes to read blogs and keep up with what’s happening in the lives of my friends.  Also, two of our children are working on their mission paperwork, so I have kept a close eye on your mom over the past few months.  I hope you know she is an amazing lady who loves you very, very much.  She get really worried and nervous sometimes, but she also would not choose for you to be anywhere else than serving the Lord as a missionary during this time of your life.

I really enjoy reading your letters home.  I’m impressed with how mature you are and how hard you are trying to make your mission the best it can possibly be.  Your mission will be a blessing for your whole life.  It will also be a blessing for your wife and children.  And maybe you’ll even get to change the life of someone there.  The potential is endless!  My prayer for you—and for our children—is that you will work hard to do all you can possibly do during this time of your life.  There is nothing in the world that can duplicate the things you will learn as a missionary; especially not in a short two years!

You probably don’t care much, but I thought I would send you the kind of letter I love to receive—full of news.  So here it is (Extra! Extra!):

I am marriedto a returned missionary (thank goodness!) whio is just an all-around fabulous man.  His greatest talent (I think) is that he can get along with and find common ground with nearly everyone.  Seriously.  I think that’s amazing.

Our oldest daughter  will be 21 in November.  All she has left on her mission paperwork is her dentist appointment.  She’s frustrated that the process is going so slowly.  J  She is a massage therapist by trade, and she lives with some of her friends, who are students.

Our oldest son is turns 19 in January, and his first appointment (for his mission) with his bishop is hopefully Sunday.  It’s kinda funny.  He has been trying to get hold of the ward executive secretary to schedule a time with the bishop.  Most of the time he gets no answer, but one day a small child answered the phone. Our son asked for G, and the child said, “Just a minute.”  A minute later, the same child came back on the phone, lowered his voice and said, “This is G.”  Our son paused and said, “Uhhh… I will call back later.”  He attends a YSA ward in our stake, and that is just one example of how hard it is to get anything done.  J  Our osn played some lacrosse in middle school and high school, but it got trumped by choir and drama stuff.  He’s a confident kid.  He graduated in June, and he’s opting to work full time to prepare for his mission; but I think he misses school a little bit.  It’s hard when all of your friends are off on their adventures and yours hasn’t come yet.  It will come, though.

Our younger daughter is a senior in high school.  She loves to sing, she is good at ceramics, and she is kind and sweet in every way.  She is also very beautiful, but you don’t need to know that.  J  She is only about 5’2”.  We say she is fun-size.  She is a peacemaker and just really good.

Our youngest son is 14 and in 9^th grade.  He’s a character.  He kinda annoys his brother and sisters sometimes, but I just think he’s funny.  It’s weird to have my “baby” (he hates it when I call him that) be nearly as tall as I am.  His voice is now fairly low (comparatively speaking) and doesn’t squeak quite as much as it did for a while there.  Bummer!  That squeaky voice thing is so much fun to tease!

Your dad’s cow joke made me laugh.  I especially loved that the cows are coming into your yard.  When I was in jr. high and high school we lived right in the middle of a field of cows.  The biggest problem wasn’t the moo-ing.  You get used to that.  But we could never walk barefoot in our yard because the cows always got through the fence and left their gifts in the yard.  (You get used to the smell, too.  J)

Here is my favorite stupid joke: 

Two muffins were in the oven.  One muffin said, “Wow!  It sure is hot in here!”  The other muffin said, “Ahhh!  A talking muffin!”

(Our daugher thinks this is so stupid it’s not even funny, but I think it’s hilarious.  You can decide for yourself.)

Happy day!