While Papa Kay may best be known for his catch-phrase "Keep Smiling," growing up he had several others. Denials generally came in the form of "Not if you dragged me forty miles by the tongue." Dinnertime was punctuated by the same three annoying jokes: why do bees sting, what did the tie say to the hat, and what happened to the little girl who went into the kitchen and never came out. As a teenager, the most irritating phrase was "I never make mistakes."
Well, I do. I'm grateful that Jason kept me from making a giant one this past August. I nearly skipped out on the total solar eclipse.
It's not that I didn't want to go--I felt conflicted. You see, the eclipse coincided with the first day of school for the kids. That's a big, important day any year, but this year it felt particularly important since it was Brooklyn's first day at West High School. Even though she's a seventh-grader, West might be the last school she attends before college. It was her first day of changing classes, using a real locker, navigating the hallways--all of that's a big deal. Jason, on the other hand, had been anticipating this astronomical wonder ever since we watched the
annular eclipse in St. George. There was never any question that he would go, along with our budding scientist Eli who wouldn't have missed it for the world. As for the girls and I, we would have been content to stay put and enjoy 90% from Salt Lake.
In the end, family time trumped all, and we decided to make the trip together. As the news buzzed with predictions of fuel shortages and traffic jams, I felt more and more grumpy about our trip up to Idaho. After all, the actual eclipse would last for less than two minutes. Would it really be worth it? I tried to get in the spirit by making some eclipse cookies with the kids. Not that baking usually improves my mood, but it works for Christy so it was worth a try.
I'm embarrassed to say that I still griped during our drive up to Rexburg. I felt a bit better by the time we arrived at Jason's cousin's cute home. Such a cheery welcome wreath would make anyone smile.
Jarom and his family generously opened their home and let us crash for the night. ("Us" being a large crowd--our family, plus Charles, Susie, Brianna, and Ruby.) Their place was perfectly situated in the heart of Rexburg. Talia and I went for a morning run, and could feel the excitement growing over the city. As we ran past the temple, I felt overwhelmed by the goodness of God and the majesty of his creations.
Grandma Susie had secured eclipse glasses for us all, along with a great viewing spot from the BYU Idaho campus. While the tickets were free, we were a little concerned that we might not have enough for our entire group. Turns out that we had reserved 99 instead of 9, so we were all good.
The moment I slipped on the solar glasses and saw the moon begin to cross the path of the sun, I knew that our journey was worth it. It's fun to look at the delighted grins on all the faces, including the adults. Having been around this world a little longer, I think we recognized how absolutely remarkable the experience.
The cookies were a hit too.
Eli must have concentrated hard over the past two months because his teeth are starting to grow back in. I already miss that gap-toothed smile.
Susie and Charles, I owe a debt of gratitude to you too. Without your organization, Susie, we might have missed out completely.
Getting close! 11 am, and the sky is starting to darken..
I really like Brooklyn's face in this picture. I sense such serenity as she contemplates her place in the cosmos. All of a sudden, little problems (like missing the first day of school) don't seem very significant.
As the sky grew dim, the lights at the temple came on.
And totality. It's difficult to describe the experience of being there as the last sliver of sun slipped behind the moon. Even though we all knew what was coming, the entire field erupted in gasps of awe and cries of delight. In that moment, we sensed that we were part of something much greater than our individual selves.
While many people packed up right away to get back on the road and avoid traffic (ha!), we hung around a little longer to enjoy the rest of the eclipse experience. Our kids sure enjoyed playing with their new quasi-cousin, Paisley.
Eclipse frisbee is the ultimate.
Uncle Justin, we definitely missed you. Rest assured that Jason did his best to share the cosmos with Ruby in your absence.
Since the eclipse, I've reflected more often on the heavenly orbs. The eclipse was miraculous, but is not every sunrise, every sunset, equally so? I found a quote by G. K. Chesterton that more eloquently expresses this sentiment:
We should always endeavor to wonder at the permanent thing, not at the mere exception. We should be startled by the sun, and not by the eclipse. We should wonder less at the earthquake, and wonder more at the earth.
Indeed, I wish to spend more time appreciating the beauty that surrounds me every day.
Following the eclipse, we slipped off the main road to visit Ucon, the Idaho farm town where Papa Kay grew up. It had been a long time since I'd seen the old farmhouse.
In moments when our place feels crowded, may I remember Tom and Garda raising nine children with a single bathroom.
Just down the road is the log cabin where my Uncle Dean and Aunt Kathy lived. I was always so excited to spend time there with my cousins.
We drove past the chapel where Papa Kay was the very first child blessed.
We visited the graves of Grandma and Grandpa Andrus. I miss them.
They are buried in Ucon's peaceful cemetery, along with two of their children, David and Julie.
People are often surprised to learn how closely my father is related to
Milo Andrus. We descend from Jane Munday, who was the ninth wife out of eleven (!). (Let's be honest--I'm still processing that exclamation mark.)
Back to the point, Jane's youngest son Robert was my Dad's grandfather.
The graves of Lovenia and Robert, my great-grandparents.
In the dawn following the eclipse, I felt particularly grateful for these generations past. They are the unseen roots that nourish us all. I'm even more grateful for those with whom I share this sliver of time called the present.
On the way home, we bypassed the interstate parking lot by taking the road less traveled.
Much less traveled.
Yes, life is beautiful.
Thank you, Peanut Butter, for helping my see the light by nudging me into the shadow of an eclipse.
P.S. I think Emerson's school shirt this year is pretty awesome, don't you?
