the two great suns

My goal this semester was to increase my communications skills with my wife.  Because of the needs of our ageing parents, I live with my father and my wife lives in our family home in a town about 20 miles away.  My father needs daily guidance and her moms needs physical assistance.  My goal then was to see if I could increase our communications and intimacy using texting, voice calls, weekly visits and sharing the poetry I write.

Take a walk down memory lane with me today.

My parents have always been very central to my very soul even through the many decades I was angry about the way they raised me the first three years of my life.   I used to borrow my mom’s van when I would make weekly trips to Wyoming repairing big screen tv’s in people’s homes.  I would play this song for hours on her cassette deck.  I selected my wife based on the relationship she would build with my family.  My wife and my sister became best friends while I was courting my wife.  Today they run a day-care center together.

“I was standing at the counter
I was waiting for the change
When I heard that old familiar music start
It was like a lighted match had been tossed into my soul
It was like a dam had broken in my heart
After taking every detour
Gettin' lost and losin' track
So that even if I wanted I could not find my way back
After driving out the memory
Of the way things might have been
After I'd forgotten all about us
The song remembers when”

https://youtu.be/AygRmWnow1w

Trish Yearwood, The Song Remembers When1

My wife and I listened to this song a great deal when we were first married.  I sent her this link one morning to reminder of my love for her and the life we built together.

“Remember when I was young and so were you
“And time stood still and love was all we knew
You were the first, so was I
We made love and then you cried
Remember when”

https://youtu.be/2wc20mXtyRY

Alan Jackson ”Remember When”

I wrote this poem for one of my English Classes last year.  It is about the first time my wife and I made love on our second day of married life.  The day we were married was a busy day.  My wife planned, decorated and hosted her own wedding reception so by the time we made it to the hotel room that night she was very tired.  We made that first night a pajama night.  The second day was in our apartment where her family and friends has helped her move her stuff the previous week including her king size water bed. We had spent that Sunday visiting my sister and blessing her first son Fridy Leishman.  We have never had a honey moon, life just got to busy.  That night she escorted me to the bridal chamber and ask me to help her make a baby.

On making a baby ...

Let's make a baby,
She said.

It was not the first night,
But the second.

The first had been a pajama night.

Still he had not slept with a woman,
Except momma, her momma, or an aunt.

The first day was a busy day,
The wedding breakfast,
Temple ceremony, when he nearly fainted, and the wedding reception.

So, the first night was a pajama night.

She was the first to kiss him,
Except momma.

That second night, they did try, to make a baby.

Little did they know, He could never create new life.

Still they luved to try.

The babies did come, send from another who luved them all.

He so luved his Eve.
So times seam tough and life is a struggle ,
Still he knows she was the first and will remain the only,

To ask him, to help her, to make a baby.

http://www.mymuzes.org/2017/08/on-making-baby.html

My wife and her mom have always seamed to be more sisters then mother and daughter.  I wonder what their relationship had been like before they were born.  My wife was 29 when we married and she had brother and sister young enough to be her children.  She was living at home when we married. she helping her mom to raise these children. When we found out I was not able to create life we thought we would help her mom with these children and borrow the nieces and nephews on weekends.  My wife started a day care center in our hope to help with the baby’s pains.  My wife’s sister chose to become our handmaiden and create two children for us to share.   I have taught my children of Nancy’s love for them. The choose she made to create their life and how they need to honor her choice.  They were never a mistake or a problem to be solved.

This is the last picture I have of Ashley, Nicholas and their older brother Cody.  I really wanted to be Cody’s father but grandpa loved him first.  If we had taken Cody then it would have removed my fathers-in-law desire to live. My mother-in-law raised two babies of her daughter’s and we raised our two.  My wife and her mom did their best to raise them as one family unit in two separate homes.

The Babies they raised together

They were sisters, first, were they not?

Then mother, and daughter.

The babies, then they raised, together.

Unmarried she was and living at home.

Helping her mom with the babies.

Born when out of high school, she was.

Young enough, they were.

They could have been, her children.

Then the young man along came he.

Too young for her was he,

she then 30 and he is 25.

This then the cradle, she robbed.

Then the small house, in the center of town.
It was her grandmother's house, the first they bought,
together.

Then no babies came, to them,
infertile was he, failed her request,
to help make a baby.

Then the daycare center, in their home,
more babies then come, to raise.

Her sister, fertile was she.
This then her gift, a baby, to them.

This then their baby to raise together.

Her mother received a gift, two babies,
from her daughters.

This then more babies, to raise, together.

These babies, siblings would be.
One home, two houses, and three babies to share.

Then later, one final gift, this baby,
to them, this day.

This then the babies, they raised together.

I wanted you to this picture, the joy in my children’s lives.  If you knew Ashley’s and Cody’s history you would wonder how she grew to love and forgive him.  He spent a few years in reform school for the mistakes he made with his sister’s.  When you walk into a courtroom and participate in prosecution and then purchase a van so you can visit that a boy, that should have been your first son, you learn the real power of love and forgiveness.

This then the drive

This then the drive, to visit, one of the babies.

Nearly grown now, is he?
He is tall.
He is smart.
One of the babies, we raised, together.
But the choices, he made, what of the choices.
He is not what he did, he is one of the babies.
So a used van, I buy, to take them, for a visit.

This then four hours, we will drive, one way.
In the van, my wife and I will sit,
while mom and dad visit with the baby,
now a young man.

I hold a prayer, that is all I can hold.
No influence have, I over this baby.
All I have is my love.

He could have been my first baby,
But grandpa loved him first.
So all I have is my prayer and hope.
A hope that he will become more then he did.
More than he is, now.

This crime, this thing, forgiveness will then come.
For to love is the only choice I have, today.
To choose any other is to damage my soul.
So I will love the boy I have no influence over,
and I will cherish this memory, we make today.

https://www.mymuzes.org/2019/10/this-then-drive.html

So, you ask how is Bonnie and my relationship, today, I visited her this weekend to again ask this question.  Al least twice a week I ask her if we are good and is she happy.  She reassures me that we are good and that she loves me, still. It seems like we are both two great suns orbiting one great planet.  This planet represents our parents and our children.   This is the poem I wrote this weekend and shared with wife yesterday.

on two great suns

Two great suns, once there were.

once in orbit near a great sphere,

Attracted they were one to another.

This then what of the attraction.

Little in common had they then,

even less now so they find.

This attraction what does, it hold?

This distance required, as the sun's glow brighter,

a greater distance, in their orbit sphere.

This the fear then he feels,
that destruction may come,
at a smaller orbit, as their strength and bond
glow brighter.

Daily he checks, this then the dance.

Weaving in and out, each other's sphere.

This many years now, then have they danced.

The choice than to continue, this covenant path.

on two great suns

Two great suns, once there were.

once in orbit near a great sphere,.

Attracted they were one to another.

This then what of the attraction.

Little in common had they then,

even less now so they find.

This attraction what does, it hold?

This distance required, as the sun's glow brighter,

a greater distance, in their orbit sphere.

This the fear then he feels,
that destruction may come,
at a smaller orbit, as their strength and bond
glow brighter.

Daily he checks, this then the dance.

Weaving in and out, each other's sphere.

This many years now, then have they danced.

The choice than to continue

this covenant path.

On Relationship an essay for COMM 150 BYUI

Steven Bassett

COMM 150

November 11, 2019

My Most Important Relationships

Angie Miller

My Most Important Personal Relationships

¨       The Godhead

Ø  Father

Ø  Son

Ø  Holy ghost

¨       My wife

¨       My children

Ø  Ashley

Ø  Nicholas

Ø  Bryce

¨       My Parents

Ø  Father

Ø  Mother

¨       My Faith Communities

Ø  The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints

Ø  Greater Christianity

Ø  Non-Christians

Ø  Atheist – Agnostics

The Godhead

            God the Father

In his debut novel, The Shack, William P. Young tells the story of Mackenzie Allen Phillips.  Mack is invited by Papa, his wife’s name for God, to spend the weekend with her in the Shack.  The shack is the place, where a year ago, his young daughter was used as a man's play toy and then murdered.  Mack has spent the last year in a place of anger and shame.  His relationships with his remaining daughter and son are strained.  He learns his daughter still blames herself for distracting her father and allowing Missy to be taken.  The family is stuck with no way to go forward.

Papa is Nan’s, his wife, name for God.  When he arrives at the shack it is transformed into a beautiful cabin by a lakeside.  He is introduced to God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit.  The Father appears in the form of an elderly Negro lady.  She prefers to call herself Elousia.  She comes in the female form because she fears Mac will reject her if she appears as a man. 

At first, Mac is very angry and defensive. He is angry that God was not there for Missy and that she was not there for her son Jesus while he hung on the cross. There is a scene where Mac and Papa are needing bread in the Kitchen and Papa shows him the scares she received while her son hung on the cross.

https://youtu.be/ulmhqAUgVlE

For many years my own relationship with my mother was strained.  This image of Papa reminds me of my Mom when I began to see her as she truly was today and not the woman she was when I was younger.  I have learned not to allow the “Noise” of our relationships to interfere with those relationships.

               

God the Son

I love this image by Brian Kershisnik.  It is from his series, Jesus and the Angry Babies.  You see babies squirming on Jesus' lap as he seeks to comfort them.  Some of them are trying to crawl off.  One is cuddling in the background.  One is angry and scowling at Jesus

I am not sure which of these babies is me.

I sometimes feel like one of these babies, both wanting to be cuddled by and climb off of the lap of Jesus.

It reminds me of one of my favorite songs, Casting Crown “Just be held”.

https://youtu.be/s53R3aj5pfc

In our relationships, it is not just about what I get out of it or what you get out of it, but how we both become enriched through the relationship. Don’t let the “Vultures” in to interfere with the relationship.

  

The Holy Spirit

In this scene from The Shack we see the Holy Spirit, called Sarayu, watering the Garden with Mac’s tears.  The Garden represents Mac and his mind and spirit. 

It is in this garden that they bury Missy’s recovered body, in a coffin that God the Son built for her.

We see that God the Father can now appear to Mac in his male form.   Their relationship is healed.  Sarayu’s place in the Godhead is to confirm the relationship. I am never certain of my relationship to the Holy Spirit.  I know that he does confirm the truth and relationship.

In this scene we see them burying Missy, in Mac’s Garden.

We heal our relationships by listening to the other.  This then is the transactional model of relationship.

https://youtu.be/Vuli66WMyWs

  

My Wife

This is a photo of Bonnie and me at our wedding reception.  I told her I was not going to wear a suit or stand in any kind of reception line.  I purchased a new set of bib overalls and wore my best white shirt. Today I wear dress Levi’s to church. I started writing poetry as a way to comfort myself when I learn she had stage 4 stomach cancer.
It seems like, my wife and I, are like two great stars, as we each growing brighter, the orbit between us grows wider and wider.  I live with my father now fulltime.  I am his caregiver.  My wife has offered my father this gift, in his twilight years.  My wife has known my father longer then she has known me.  They were working together at the hospital when dad convinced me to ask her out on a date.  She has told me many times that she promised she would never marry one of his sons. I am not sure why she agreed to go out with me that first time. Our first date was at a swimming party and she is afraid of water. She has stood by me for 30 years now.  I am certain of her love for me and our children.  I am learned to let her become, as she lets me become as I improve in “The listening process”.

On the Loss of Possibility

Is the pain any less, for the loss of a possibility?

I ask myself this question, one day at work.

Help me make a baby she had said,

On the first time, on that second night.

It began with the gentle nibbling on her ear.

It was good that first night, and the many to follow.

In a matter of weeks, they were in that first home.

The first one they purchased, together.

He came home one evening, twins she said, coming soon.

Then one night the home teacher they called.

A blessing she wanted, to keep the babies.

Then the loss of those two possibilities.

Still together they worked, on creating the babies.

In time they learned of the loss of the possibility.

He had been born sterile, no babies would he ever produce.

Still, the pain he remembered, from the loss

of the first two possibilities.

He would keep the memory of the pain, of the loss.

He would recall it when he needed to understand the loss of the others,

and their possibilities.

With time the handmaiden would provide the babies.

He would teach his children to honor the handmaiden,

as he and his wife raised their new possibilities.

Still, he carried with him, the pain of the loss, of those first two, possibilities.

Alan Jackson “Remember When”

https://youtu.be/TTA2buWlNyM

The Children  

I was lucky to adopt two beautiful children, on the left is Nicholas, on the right is Ashley, between them, is there older brother, Cody, who was raised by his grandmother. They were created for us by a woman we love and adore.  She is my wife’s younger sister.  When she learned my wife and I could not have children she created two for us.  They were not mistakes and they were always loved, and wanted, by their Birth Mother.

This is taken at my daughter’s wedding.  On the right is my final son Bryce.  Our relationship was tense at first.  We are both mellowing with age.  I always referred to him as my son though at first, this made him very angry.

I have learned from them the role of “Attention to Listening” is in a relationship. I was so angry in this photo.  My wife was still terminal and life was not worth living.  I was uncertain what my relationship with my children would be like after she died. That morning I nearly took my own life.  I am glad I didn’t. I would have lost all of the joy I feel today.

The Gardener and the Cure

It is growing now, in the garage.

The Gardner brought the solution,

he tells you to believe.

You have no faith in the cure,

but the peace it may bring.

This herb, this evil then, they tell you.

This gateway to Hell.

But you live in Hell, now.

To risk it all, now you do.

For the life of the loved one,

you do adore.

So many fights, through the years,

with each other, to gain the children.

The Gardner will be a 3rd child soon,

with the marriage of your daughter.

For now, there is hope growing in the garden, and peace, in my soul

My Parents

            Mom

In many ways my relationship with my mother is the most complex one.  I was so angry with her for so very long.  I was angry for her not being who I needed when I was younger.  Her father was an alcoholic.   He only showed affection when he was drunk.  My mother rarely held or cuddled me.  She was so young when I was born and Carl and my father were such a handful.  I was raised by my Aunt Nancy until I was three and she moved away to Bountiful Utah. My Mom and Aunt Nancy were so similar, yet so different.

As I grew older, I began to see the “Perception Filter” I had placed around our relationship.  Just before she died, I had that final conversation with my mother when I truly said I finally understood her and I truly forgave her for not being what I needed in those first few years.

 

She closed her heart

Luv her, a choice, not a feeling.

She closed her heart.

Like the lady, that swallowed that fly,

I know not why.

I reached for her, their, as a boy.

There, on the bench, in the car, she beside me.

Cuddled, under her arm, like the puppet, beside me.

She, purchased the puppet, at the pink lady’s shop.

We had gone to the hospital, to discover, why I wet the bed.

She was damaged goods, as was I.

When life gets tough, it hardens you.

You grow a shell, thicker with the growing years.

I wet the bed, this because, distant then, began I to feel ...

Not luved, not wanted, cast aside, This, I had thought.

Forty more years, we spent, in this cuddle, or embrace.

I would reach out, only to be pushed away.

In the end, she reached out, to dance.

only to be brushed away, almost.

Still, once more, we danced and beautiful, it was,

The Dance, Garth Brooks

https://youtu.be/bpwdwbO1uvM

                        My Father

I live with my father fulltime now.  I work, go to school and care for him.  My wife offered me this choice because she has learned to love my father.  I could sell his home and move him to Franklin but his life is here and there is no room for us there.  There my wife and children’s lives are so full.  I often feel like I am not needed there, but I am very much needed here. I made the choice to attend church with my father now.  Try explaining to a new Bishop why a happily married man would choose to live with his Father and not his wife.  When I pray and speak to my wife, I know that we are making the right choices now.

My Father and I share a simple, wedding band.  It is a simple sterling wedding band, most likely purchased at a pawn shop.  It was discarded by another when its value in cash exceeded its value in sentiment.  He wore it daily as a reminder of the covenant they shared.  It was not the first band, that band stayed behind in the jewelry box.  It was too valuable and easily damaged.  The first would not endure long, in the room where he washed clothes to feed their growing family.

The ring we share

She is gone now,

yet they are one.

This we share, now.

The three of us.

A covenant,

a promise,

a ring.

Once it was shared,

by two, then came two more,

and the temple ceremony,

then two more,

Dad gave me the ring,

years ago.

Now four more are bound,

by the ring, the promise,

and the covenant.

My father gave me his second wedding band, which I now wear.

I have three siblings and two children

.

The final relationships I have are with my faith communities. As you can see from the beginning of this essay.  My relationship with my God and the Godhead is central to my life. My Relationship to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Saints is changing and evolving.  I have a temple recommend for the first time in decades, yet I no longer feel its central draw to my life.  Like a great Venn Diagram, I am expanding my faith community to include all of his children. 

¨       My Faith Communities

Ø  The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints

Ø  Greater Christianity

Ø  Non-Christians

Ø  Atheist – Agnostics

I have for decades searched out the non-Mormon and non-Christian prophets.  My favorite one now, and I suspect will always be, is John Milton.  In his great works, Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained, you learn of the fall of Adam and Eve, the battle in the pre-Earth life and of the forty days Jesus spent in the wilderness.  I admire the Christian Bishops who served their congregations, and their wife’s in the time between the death of the prophets and the rebirth of Christianity in the late middle ages.  I refuse to call them dark ages because there was great light during this period even if there was great persecution.

Revelations 12

5 And she brought forth a man child, who was to rule all nations with a rod of iron: and her child was caught up unto God, and to his throne.

6 And the woman fled into the wilderness, where she hath a place prepared of God, that they should feed her there a thousand two hundred and threescore days.

Terryl Givens speaks in many of his books and lectures on how at the death of the apostle, the church, like the woman, in the scripture quoted above, was carried into the wilderness where she was sheltered and fed by his poets and writers.


"I have heard some people say, — If God revealed himself to men in other days, why not reveal himself to us?” I say, why not to us?  ...  There were men who could gaze upon the face of God, have the ministering of angels, and unfold the future destinies worldwide. If those were dark ages, I pray God to give me a little darkness and deliver me from the light and intelligence that prevail in our day” (Taylor).

"I have heard some people say, — If God revealed himself to men in other days, why not reveal himself to us?” I say, why not to us?  ...  There were men who could gaze upon the face of God, have the ministering of angels, and unfold the future destinies worldwide. If those were dark ages, I pray God to give me a little darkness and deliver me from the light and intelligence that prevail in our day” (Taylor).

1 Peter 4:6

For for this cause was the gospel preached also to them that are dead, that they might be judged according to men in the flesh, but live according to God in the spirit.

This scripture has often puzzled me?  How do men live like God in the spirit and yet be judged like men in the flesh?  I have sought to generalize salvation using the doctrines first shared by Joseph Smith.  When you combine The Light of Christ with The Atonement of Christ and temple ordinances it became possible to save all men who seek to be saved and who develop a Christ-like soul though they never learn the name of Christ or his teachings in this life.

I am learning to enjoy this class.  I am learning to enjoy my relationships with those around me.  I have felt real joy, this past year, for the first time in years.  It is interesting how much stronger my relationship is with my wife now we no longer live in the same house.  Maybe I have stopped taking her for granted.  Maybe I am just working harder at our relationship because our lives are so separate right now.  I often wonder if it is the right thing to do with my life.  My wife says it is not forever.  In the eternal scheme of things, this next decade will be a short period of time and our relationship will grow much stronger.

I guess I am learning that life is good and that life is worth living.  That I should enjoy every day for I know not how many days I have left.

Maybe I can leave you one last link to an essay I wrote for my English class last year.

“This I Believe”

Maybe I can leave you one last link to an essay I wrote for my English class last year.

“This I Believe”

https://www.mymuzes.org/2019/05/this-i-believe.html?m=1 

References.

Young, William P. The Shack. Hodder Windblown, 2017.

Casting Crowns, “Just be Held”, Thrive, 2014

Givens, Terryl, and Fiona Givens. “The God Who Weeps: How Mormonism Makes Sense of Life.” Amazon, Ensign Peak, 2012, https://www.amazon.com/God-Who-Weeps-Mormonism-Makes/dp/1609071883.

“The Knowledge of God and Mode of Worshiping Him John Taylor.” John Taylor: The Knowledge of God, Etc (Journal of Discourses), journalofdiscourses.com/16/26.

on suicide

Why choose to leave, this life.

Is it the heartache, the pain?

This cannot be a rational choice.

I nearly one made this choice.

In a moment of deep pain and rejection.

The kitchen table, a serrated steak knife,

and a bowl full of tears.

So grateful I was, no firearms, I owned.

But what about the baby.

The key to the firearm he found.

This then nonrational choice,

cannot be undone.

When you come to this choice,

choose life, if you can.

This life is all, your life matters, this life matters.

If you cannot choose life, choose to wait one more day.

If I had made that choice, that day,

all of the joy I have today would have been lost.

Choose life, If only for me.

why then the poems

Why do they come,

to me.

No children have I created,

nor will that ever be.

Two children I have, 

a gift from the handmaiden.

Though they are the very joy, of my life,

They were not my creations.

The poems then are my creations.

The need to create drives me now.

These revelations from the muze.

Like a great pouring, of lava, 

flowing forth, from a caldera.

Has it always been there?

Deep within my soul?

Out it comes now, all the heartache, 

pain, and joy

It redirects the streams of joy,

flowing forth from my soul.

That I may nourish the seeds,

hidden deep in your soul.

This then the drive

This then the drive, to visit, one of the babies.

Nearly grown now, is he?
He is tall.
He is smart.

One of the babies, we raised, together.

But the choices, he made, what of the choices.
He is not what he did, he is one of the babies.
So a used van, I buy, to take them, for a visit.

This then four hours, we will drive, one way.
In the van, my wife and I will sit,
while mom and dad visit with the baby,
now a young man.

I hold a prayer, that is all I can hold.
No influence have, I over this baby.
All I have is my love.

He could have been my first baby,
But grandpa loved him first.

So all I have is my prayer and hope.
A hope that he will become more then he did.
More then he is, now.

This crime, this thing, forgiveness will then come.
For to love is the only choice I have, today.
To choose any other is to damage my soul.
So I will love the boy I have no influence over,
and I will cherish this memory, we make today.

The Babies they raised together

They were sisters, first,  were they not?

Then mother, and daughter.

The babies, then they raised, together.

Unmarried she was and living at home.

Helping her mom with the babies.

Born when out of high school, she was.

Young enough, they were.

They could have been, her children.

Then the young man along came he.

Too young for her was he,

she then 30 and he is 25.

This then the cradle, she robbed.

Then the small house, in the center of town.
It was her grandmother's house, the first they bought,
together.

Then no babies came, to them,
infertile was he, failed her request,
to help make a baby.

Then the daycare center, in their home,
more babies then come, to raise.

Her sister, fertile was she.
This then her gift, a baby, to them.

This then their baby to raise together.

Her mother received a gift, two babies,
from her daughters.

This then more babies, to raise, together.

These babies, siblings would be.
One home, two houses, and three babies to share.

Then later, one final gift, this baby,
to them, this day.

This then the babies, they raised together.

Poetry, the price of

It comes easily now, the poetry.
It comes in the night, with little thought,
or preparation.

But the cost, it was terrible,
not certain it is worth the price,

she paid.

Years of pain, heartache and shame,
he pours into, the poetry.

Cancer, the car wreck, the strained relationships.

He can't stop it now, it flows too easily.
These flow forth, from his soul.

Still, he wishes the poetry had never come,
at such a cost.

This option he has not now,
so the shame, anger, and guilt,
he leaves behind on the page,
with poetry.

On Being Delvin

Delvin Loved Nora,
His Aunt Nora.

Nora's name, real full name,
Elnora, Sara Elnora,
But Sara, she disliked, ,
Difficult, to pronounce, Aunt Elnora was,
So Aunt Nora called, was she, by them all.