11. My Top Ten: Blessings of 2014

     In honor of Thanksgiving today, though cliche, I want to list the top ten things I have been grateful for this year.  I know I have been blessed with way more than ten things, but this exercise seems to be a great way to get into the Thanksgiving spirit.

1.  I have been so grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Since coming to BYU, my testimony has grown stronger than ever.  I love that I am required for my Book of Mormon class to read the scriptures for thirty minutes a day.  I have gained a better understanding of the Book of Mormon and have been able to have the spirit with me.  Likewise, I have loved living so close to the temple.  My roommates and I set a goal to attend the temple once a week, and we have been fairly successful with that goal, only missing a week or two when we were loaded with school work.  My roommate, Katie, helped me get started with Family History, which also added to my recognition of my gratitude for the gospel.

2.  I have been grateful to have such a great family, both my immediate family that lives in Indiana and my extended family that has welcomed me in with open arms.  When I first got to Utah, I felt like a guest in both of my grandparents' houses, but these feelings went away quickly, as I have been able to spend much time with both sides of my family.  I am thankful for each of my aunts and uncles who have made a special effort to help me, check on me, and take me in like one of their own kids.  I am grateful for my mom, who has sent me at least a dozen postcards and several packages throughout the semester.  I am thankful for my siblings, who are always sweet and at least "pretend" to miss me when I call.

3.  I have been blessed with the best roommates in the world.  Both of my twin cousins, Bailey and McKenna, were able to be accepted to BYU.  We were relieved because we had planned to be roommates since we were eight!  However, never in my mind did I realize that I would connect even more with the other girls in our apartment than I did with my own cousins.  My roommate that I share  a room with, Katie, has helped me to become a kinder, more gentle individual.  She has helped me start on Family History and set a great example of saying her prayers every night.  She always helps me take a step back and look at the bigger picture.  We have the best conversations, both serious and goofy.  My other roommate, Jenna, is a very fun and independent person.  I have loved getting to know her, as we are different but still have found some common ground.  Of course, I have loved living with Bailey and McKenna, who remind me of my family every day.  Overall, I am grateful for our little 2102 family.

4.  I am extremely grateful for a healthy body.  This year, I had to overcome issues that I have had with my knees.  Even though they sometimes still hurt or I might slightly injure them, I am grateful to be able to do almost anything I want.  In particular, I am grateful to be able to run, which I was not able to do for many months.  I am grateful to be able to cycle, lift weights, swim, do yoga, and play soccer.  I do not believe I would be myself without all of these activities.

5.  I am grateful for my summer job.  This summer, I was promoted to be a head lifeguard at the YMCA near my house.  Although everyone else was at least a sophomore in college, I was able to quickly adapt and become one of the best head lifeguards.  I was able to save up plenty of money, so I did not have to get a job this school year.  I have been blessed in this way to be able to spend so much time on my studies and getting used to living on my own.

6.  I am grateful for the piano.  I have been blessed with my abilities to play the piano.  This year, I was blessed to be able to get gold at regionals and play at the Indiana State Solo and Ensemble competition.  Even though my mom never paid a cent for lessons, I was still able to do remarkably well.  Now, I love that I can sit down at a piano and entertain myself.  More than that, though, I love being able to play Christmas music or hymns and feel closer to my Savior.

7.  I am grateful to be able to attend BYU.  When I think about my friends, most of which went to state schools, I am grateful for the adventure I have had moving to Utah.  Even though I sometimes feel homesick, I love the unique opportunities I am given daily.  I am truly blessed to have found a college that fits me and my beliefs so perfectly.

8.  I am grateful for the mountains.  When I am having a rough day at school or I feel like the world might start concaving at any second, I just look up at Y mountain and think "I made it."  Even though each day I must try to better myself, I accomplished my dream of attending BYU.  I love seeing the mountains change with season.

9.  This year I was blessed to have a great vacation with my family to Florida.  We spent a few days on the beach and then went to Universal Studios and Disney World.  My family was extremely busy this year.  My dad was busy with his job and being the bishop.  My mom was busy driving my siblings to all of their events and helping everyone.  I was busy with my job, school, and extra curricular activities.  The rest of my siblings were also busy between their various activities and schoolwork.  Our trip to Florida was an amazing time to kick back and relax as a family.  It could be many years before we all just go to the beach and spend hours finding sea shells.

10.  As silly as it sounds, I am grateful for my dog, Bufford.  I think about petting his soft head every day.  I am grateful for his happy greetings every time I returned home from school or work!




I am so blessed in my life and have so much to celebrate on Thanksgiving.  In my short life, I know Heavenly Father has blessed me more than most, and I never want to forget that.

10. Mission Escape to Utah

The sweet scent of the sun on the lawn tickled my nose.  Fresh grass stains stuck the pants of my overalls to my knobby knees; the warmer the spring mornings grew, the more my mom struggled to keep me from digging holes in the midst of her tomato plants.  Most mornings I could be found outside, menacing my mom’s plants, a satisfying activity for me.  That morning was different.  I anxiously squeezed a warm mud patty between by callow fingers until the soil oozed out of my grasp.  I hated strangers in my backyard.

As I crouched near my mom’s blossoming garden, I squinted through the rising sun, watching two shaggy workers carry a set of plants into our new yard:  two new trees.  The men pierced the flowerbeds with shovels, digging on the periphery of our yard.  I stood in awe at the speed at which the men dug their holes; excavating the backyard was my territory.  I probably would have told them to go take over someone else’s backyard, but the trees they brought were quite mesmerizing.  Two foreign, bony, trees settled into the Indiana soil; the skinny trunks looked like fire poles covered in white chalk.

            “Mrs. Gibbons, can I get you to sign for these quaking aspens?” the leathery, bearded worker asked.

            He looks like a pirate, I thought.

            “Why certainly,” my mother said.  “Just to let you know,” began the second worker, “The quakie tree does not grow particularly well in this climate.  I would not be surprised if the trees do not live to maturity.  You might want to consider ordering some oak trees or something that will be here for the long-haul.”

            “Yeah.  My husband and I know this is a possibility,” reasoned my mother.  “We’re from Utah and we wanted to choose plants that remind us of home.  An oak’s an interesting idea.”  The two men left their advice at that, leaving my mom and I to gaze up at our new gaunt plants.

The men who took over my backyard before I started kindergarten were right:  not three years had passed before the quakies died.  When my dad cut down the two dead trees, we didn’t realize the simultaneous death of my family’s dream:  trading flat, boring Indiana for our real home in Utah.

*****************************************************************************

      I cannot remember the day I first started hating Indiana.  I did not hate it when I moved there at age four, but I cannot remember a time when I did not loathe it, either.  Over the next few years, we drove back and forth between our temporary home to our real home in the Rockies seven times.  Each of those trips was a blur for me.  In my young mind, Utah became associated with all good things:  stunning amethyst mountains lightly coated with glittering snow; immaculate temples and enchanting wedding dresses; always shining skies; round-the-clock time with cousins; exciting excursions to new places.  My entire family yearned to relocate to be closer to our extended family. 

However, like the durable oak tree in our backyard that refused to die, my dad’s job rooted us in Noblesville, Indiana.  My dad’s job was a solid one:  Director of International Marketing and Business for Delta Faucet Company.  Half of the time he was home with us, the other half he traveled the world to wild, exotic places, like the United Arab Emirates, Brazil, Russia, China, India, and Saudi Arabia.  Aside from working upwards of eighty hours a week, he searched for a job that would give him more time with us and relocate us out West, but each prospective job was worse: further east.  For at least ten years on New Years Eve, we joyfully toasted sparkling cider to our last year in Indiana.  We were wrong every time. 

******************************************************************************

If I was ever going to escape the dreary, mundane cornfields of Indiana, I knew my fate was in my own hands.  The only way, I determined, is to get into BYU.  Because of my motivation, my classmates labeled me the kid who never “half-did” anything.  “I’m pretty sure your worst effort is better than my best effort,” my friend Luke said in all seriousness during class one day. 

My personal motto was Yoda’s:  “Try not.  Do...or do not. There is no try.”  I sat through nearly every A.P. or honors class my school had to offer.  I never took short cuts in rounding out my BYU application, fluttering to and from every one of my extra curricular activities.  Home became a place to change clothes and eat dinner between grueling cross country workouts and strenuous service hours.  When I found myself home for five minutes, I replaced goofing-off on Facebook with drilling through ACT practice tests and rehearsing for piano competitions.

The first seven semesters of high school passed slowly, then all at once; time had finally caught up to my bustling life.  One morning, as I sped to school after seminary in my purple Jeep, I looked out the driver’s window.  A brilliant sunrise of titan, magenta, and lavender peered over a cherry red-barn and a barren cornfield.  Even though the air outside was bitter cold, the sunrise warmed me; a startling thought came into my head:  you’ll miss this.  I was shocked.  I must have driven down this road hundreds of times, yet I never thought about actually missing anything Indiana had to offer. 

From that day forward, a switch turned.  I took time to laugh with Ian about funny pictures on Instagram.  We spent hours playing “Horse” at the park by our house.  This activity will not make me look more attractive to a scholarship committee, I laughed to myself.  Other times taking my little sisters to get ice cream mattered most.  Senioritis, I rationalized. 

            After stuffing senior year into a scrapbook, I let my summer days pass naturally.  Summer should be eternal, I resolved.  Humid summer days grew shorter and cooler, foreshadowing the impending autumn.  My siblings received back-to-school blessings and posed for pictures in the front yard.  My last day working as a head lifeguard came.  Faster than I realized, the day of my departure came.  I still want to go to BYU, I worried.  This isn’t going to be as easy as I thought.  Whether I want to admit it or not, Indiana has been home for fourteen years.

******************************************************************************

            As soon as I was alert, I knew what day it was.  I can’t believe it’s finally here.  I kept my eyes shut and pulled the covers over my head.  If I pretend I’m asleep, I can stay at home longer.  However, soon the sun penetrated my eyelids, and I resorted to the unavoidable:  waking up for the last time, a child in my parent’s house.  I hesitantly crept down the stairs to the kitchen.

            “I bet if we hustle, we can get all of this stuff packed into the Jeep in two hours,” said my dad, who was seated at the kitchen table.

            “I think so too,” said my mom, almost without emotion.  I hated that she was being so strong for me.  Everyone I talked to at church mentioned how difficult preparing to send me so far away had been for my mom.  I had done tons of crying the week of my departure, more than I probably had my entire senior year of high school.  She had not cried once in front of me. 

My bedroom mocked me like a sterile hospital.  Except for my vivid fuchsia walls, everything from my childhood was either packed into the Jeep or in a box in the garage.  By the end of next week, I thought to myself, this room will be painted bright blue for some Oklahoma City team Ian likes.  It’s almost like I’m dying. 

My dad cajoled us into the living room for family prayer. “Can you pray for us, Hailey?”  my dad asked.

Hailey offered a sweet prayer, remembering to bless me at BYU.  By that point, I let go as I sobbed into my folded arms.  Hailey said amen.

“Abby, will you pray?” my dad asked again. 

“Shawn, no,” my mom said, motioning that it would be too hard for all of us.

All of my siblings prayed.  My dad said the last prayer.  I peeked over my folded arms.  Abby was crying.  Hailey was crying.  My mom was crying.  Even Ian was crying.  I glanced over at my dad.  I watched as tears glided down his face; my dad never cried.

After prayer, my mom had us file into the backyard.  In her mind, although we all had red, blotchy faces, she thought it would be a good “photo-op.”  I took each of my siblings in my arms.  I don’t know what my family would be like if we were missing just one person, I pondered.  I don’t know what I would do with my dad’s good advice, my mom’s loving encouragement, Ian’s goofy banter, Abby’s intelligent humor, or Hailey’s sweet hugs.  I felt as if I was leaving forever.

      “No empty seats,” my dad whispered.  The mention of our family motto went right along with my thoughts.  More than I had ever wanted to move to Utah, I dreamed of the day when all six of us would sit down together in the Celestial Kingdom.  No empty seats, I resolved.

Even after we had walked out front to my Jeep, I gave another round of hugs; everyone felt so far away.  I hugged my mom for the last time.  “Be brave,” she said, kissing the top of my head.  There’s nothing left to do or say. I hopped into the passenger-side of the Jeep.  My dad stuck the keys in the ignition, bringing the Jeep to life:  we were really going.  Driving away felt too typical; everyone stood in the driveway and waved until they disappeared out of sight. 

******************************************************************************

“I miss North Carolina,” said my roommate, Katie, peering up from a silver laptop screen.  “It’s gorgeous here, but there’s something about all of the trees on the mountains during the fall.  It’s home.”

“I can’t really say the same about Indiana,” I confided. 

“That makes sense.  You hated it there,” she said.

“It’s not just that.  Indiana’s actually pretty with all of the bright leaves in the fall.  I finally figured it out.  For me, home is not where my house is.  When I glance up at the ‘Y’ on the way to campus everyday, yes, it’s an amazing view.  I love Utah.  But for me, home is no longer a place; do you know what I mean?” I asked, trying to make sense of my tangent.  I probably sound crazy.  “I can’t pinpoint home on a map, like you can.  Home is watching chick-flicks with my mom and sisters.  Home is having a deep conversation late at night with my dad.  Home is going for a run with Ian.  Home is laughing together at family gatherings over apple pie.  Home isn’t Utah or Indiana.  Home is family.”

9. Surprises in Coming to BYU

    The academics at BYU are very similar to how I imagined them to be, but some of the social experiences have been shocking.  After the initial shock of singing an opening hymn with hundreds of other kids at Freshman Orientation, I got used to the idea of everyone believing the same thing I do.  I have loved being here.  I am able to pinpoint the ways those around me are living the gospel.  We all have different strengths; thus, we can be examples of different aspects of the gospel to each other.  My social interactions have been a little different than expected.  Since I grew up in Indiana with very few LDS boys to date, I expected to be dating every weekend.  With a three-to-one girl-to-boy ratio in my ward with no return missionaries, I have dated vary rarely.  My experience has been that I mostly like to hang out with my roommates.  However, I have been surprised in all the new ways I have been able to meet people.  When I first came, I thought I would spend the majority of the time with my twin cousins who room with me.  However, I have made new friends on my floor, my Family Home Evening group, my classes, and other random places.  I expected older students to not want anything to do with all of the "freshies," but I was pleasantly surprised; everyone has been so welcoming.

     My biggest Aha moment has been the respect and love I have noticed from my family.  In high school, my parents had unbelievably high expectations of me.  Now that I am at BYU and am continuing to live up to their goals for me, they never fail to tell me how well I am doing.  Every good test score is responded with praising texts with a bunch of "Emojis."  My dad will text me out of the blue just to tell me that he loves me and that I'm the best.  Even my grandparents, who knew about my successful high school years were shocked to hear that I was doing well in my college classes.  Honestly, I felt slightly insulted.

     For the rest of the semester, I plan to continue the same patterns in my schoolwork.  I want to make more of an attempt to go visit my extended family in neighboring cities.  I have visited extended family more in the past month, but I waited almost two months before venturing out of Provo to see my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

     Overall, I have enjoyed BYU so far.  Despite a new social climate (and weather climate), I love attending school here because I learn so much every day.