I remember June...

Me and my beloved grandma Kohler, daughter of June B. Moss.
Another inspiration in my life-but her story is for another entry...

On June 7th, 1895 my great great great grandparents were married in the Manti temple. One hundred and twelve years later, to the day, their great great great grand daughter was married in the Seattle temple. (Me)  What different lives we knew. Julia Anne's parents were called by the prophet of the Mormon church, Brigham Young, to go out and settle the land in the St. George and Boulder area of Utah. There they stayed for three generations fulfilling that mission.

In a small cabin, with one window, no indoor plumbing, no electricity and short growing seasons Julia raised her thirteen children. Her husband was a blacksmith and during the winter months traveled down the mountain to Salt Lake City where he had a blacksmith shop and would mend wagons to earn a living. There he stayed and worked, till  spring and summer rolled around. Then he would travel back up the gorge to be with his family, and tend their farm. They lived in fear of indians, bitter cold, and illness. They kept cream and butter cool in the "crick" and scrubbed their clothes clean on a washing board.  But they were people of great faith, and courage. All of Julia Anne's 12 surviving children remained strong members of the Mormon church.

Of those twelve living children was my great great grandfather William Behunan, and his oldest daughter was my great grandmother, June.

 Great grandma June, speaks of her parents, grandparents, and great grandparents with an indescribable admiration.

 "They were very strong people, all of my grandparents were good pioneers. There's none of them that ever fell away from the church or did anything wrong that way, they all stayed true to the faith. I've been blessed a rich heritage." She said.

 June died just before reaching one hundred. I have a vague memory of her as a small girl, going to her house and playing in a little stream that ran through her back yard. She showed me her blue forget me nots and told me to remember her. They were the prettiest little flower. Delicate like the wrinkled hands that picked them for my eager fingers.

There are days when I start to get lost in the should and should nots. There are days when I am tired, and I miss my husband terribly. There are days when the fear of how to cope through another deployment loom over my head. There are days when I feel alone. Last night when I received a call from Josh telling me he wouldn't be home for another two days-I felt it. I smiled on the phone, I told Josh he could be strong, and that I loved him and I'd be here whenever he got home. But that was for him. I hung up the phone and there was nothing left for me. Nothing but longing to see my husband.

And then a prompting came to listen to a CD, I've had for years but have never taken the time to listen to. A recording of my great grandma June telling family stories. As the voice of my great grandmother filled the room, I felt her words sinking deep into my heart. This was my family. It felt as if this sweet woman was snuggled on the couch next to me, arms about me assuring me that I'm not alone. I am surrounded by angels. By women who have gone before me, and struggled through greater trials than my own. Burdens so heavy they would crush anyone weaker. I marvel at the courage they lived everyday. I am inspired by their determination to persevere. I am carried through my sadnesses by their strength.

Forget me nots,
their dainty heads
nodded in the breeze
amid the stream
and vivid green
of summer through the trees

And there beside
a little girl
she pointed out the bud
"forget me not"
she smiled sweet
and filled my hands with love

When they emerge
from winter's grasp
a blue and precious bloom
I see her hands
I feel her love
and know that it is June.

You are never alone my divas. Not only do you live in an age where you can turn on the computer and read blogs about other women going through the same joys and struggles you are-taking comfort in the lives we all share, or post a status on facebook and receive an encouraging word, or pick up the phone and call your mom or your best friend, you are also carried by those who have gone before you. Raising happy families is God's greatest work! He wants to see his daughters succeed, he wants us to feel supported, and he sends our grandmothers, our great grandmothers, our great great grandmothers to check on us. I know He does. Listen for it, they speak softly-but they love with the might of eternities. They will fill you when your well has run dry.

I promise.
The Domestic Diva