Teddy Bear Brother

Every one of my siblings blesses my life. You can't live in a family for 50 plus years and not be touched by the other people that you've lived with, shared joys and sorrows with, fought with, made up with, and made memories with. Each member in a family contributes to make up the whole. He can either enhance the family body or he can work to destroy the family body. But his influence is felt nonetheless.
My brother Bret has definitely enhanced my life. My memories of this great brother and friend are many. He was the middle of seven children... but he did NOT act like a middle child. He was my teddy bear of a brother. Mom said he would fall asleep in his high chair waiting for his food than to make a fuss in order to get it. He was a little bigger and taller than the rest, and so would have been a perfect candidate for playing football. However, he did not have the aggressive mentality of a progressive football player. One or two seasons was all he wanted. He preferred photography and animals. These were what captured his interest into high school.
Bret was surrounded by his older brother, Curt and his younger brother, Bruce. So he was the peacemaker for all. He was a gentle young man, and stalwart in his beliefs. We all looked up to him in more ways than one.
I think he was the only sibling in our family who actually converted a friend to the gospel. Actually, his friend, Dave Hadley, saw the light in Bret's eyes, and quizzed him every day at school. When Dave asked Bret questions he didn't know the answer to, Bret would come home and quiz our Dad. Then when Dad gave him the answer, he would relay the answer back to Dave. This went on for some time, and Dave was finally baptized. Unfortunately, it was not Bret who baptized him but Curt. Bret had already left for a mission.
Bret continued to convert. However, not all of his converts were converted by him. While serving his mission in Paraguay, he served in an area where he had a convert approach him. "Are you Elder Bassett? Do you know a "Jann Bassett"?"
Bret replied that Jann was his sister... the story came out...
Jann and I had added our testimonies to copies of the Book of Mormon that would then be sent out throughout the world. Little did we know that one of the copies would end up in Bret's mission, and that copy would convert someone, and Bret would find them. Small world!!
My teddy bear brother, Bret, has grown up to be a great man that I love and admire. He has married his lovely wife Wendy; a pre-mission sweetheart. His family is almost grown and gone, but they are a pillar of the strength he and Wendy have taught them. His knowledge of things temporal and things spiritual has grown. His strength in the gospel has grown, his testimony has grown, his love for those around him has grown, and others' respect for him has grown by leaps and bounds. He has shared his wisdom and love for the gospel with so many others as he has served in many various callings, including bishop and now stake president.
But in the end, Bret, you are still my teddy bear brother...my exemplar...my friend. May you always stay that way!!

Everyone Needs a Landmark

Everyone searches for a landmark that helps to define their lives...a memory that creates a firm building block in their hearts...something they can look to, remember and learn from. Ironically, one of the landmarks in my life occurred when Lorie and Manny had their wedding reception at the original 1940 Houston Hobby Airport terminal, which is now a civic air museum. That tie has bound me, perhaps forever, to the Houston Hobby airport. With me holding a Southwest Airlines companion pass that allows me to fly virtually free whenever Kyle flies, we have done some extensive traveling this year. Every time I fly into or out of the Hobby airport, I strain my eyes out the window of my plane to look for...yes... that short control tower somewhat dwarfed by a much larger one only a short distance away; the unique architecture that is the original Hobby airport terminal. It has become a favorite landmark for me. It brings back memories of a wonderful event in my life. It reminds me what a wonderful place Houston is. It lets me know that I am HOME.
We had another landmark several years ago, and that was a large flag that flew on a mast atop a 5 or 6 story building right at Kirkwood, our exit off the Katy Freeway. In the winter when the leaves fell from the trees, you could look out the small windows in the front door of our house on Queensbury and see that beautiful flag flying up in the air. With a light illuminating it at night, it seemed to reach up to the sky, reminding me of this wonderful country that we live in. When we traveled out of the city, our family always looked for that bright flag as we drove into Houston. That meant we were HOME.
There is another landmark that I have grown to love. It is the temple. I LOVE watching for the green spire of the temple through the trees here in Houston as we drive up to it. It lets me know that we are almost there...to our Heavenly Father’s HOME...and to the home that makes me feel peace, feel safe, feel warmly loved. I also LOVE to follow a tradition that my parents started when they moved into the Cornerstone Condos near the Jordan River temple. When we visited, we would go out the back door of their condo and either sit or stand while waiting for 11:20 PM, the time the temple lights would go off. If we waited long, we would sing, “I Love to See the Temple” as we waited. I felt like we were putting the temple to bed, so to speak. If I somehow missed seeing the lights go off, I would look across the temple wall at that black void that was the dark temple. It was very sad when I missed seeing the lights go off.
We rented an apartment up the hill from the temple for a few years, and we would not go to bed before we watched those temple lights go off. When we bought a home in South Jordan, we had to make sure that we could see at least part of the temple spire so that we could see when the lights went out. That is a tradition every time I go to Utah...I want to see the temple lights go out.
I am so grateful to have a husband that turns our “tent” toward the temple. The peace and extreme joy I feel reminds me that within those temple walls, I am HOME.
Goodnight, temple!

He’s a SUPERman!

This world needs “truth, justice, and the American Way”. Enter my brother Curt. Who knew when we made a family video the year Jann and I graduated from college that we would have a brother who would not only play the part of Superman in that movie, but would be a Superman all his life.
Of course, he can’t leap tall buildings in a single bound, but he can jump through hoops to help out anyone in need. He can’t fight off bullets with his manly chest, but he can fend off anyone who would harm his little girl, Elise. He can’t fly through the sky with the greatest of ease, but he does fly down the freeway and back when he picks us up from the airport. He doesn’t have x-ray vision, but he has great insight and spiritual discernment and uses it as needed. He doesn’t work at a great metropolis newspaper, but he daily keeps abreast of current events and advertises it to our family to keep us constantly watchful and alert. He doesn’t fight Lex Luthor, but he raises a voice of warning to us all about the dangers and pitfalls in this world.
Jann and I were given this little super-man from the time we were 3 years old, and he has kept a watchful eye on us our entire lives. True, he has at times been a little irritating (like when he would climb into Jann and I’s bed as we lay sleeping...then roll one way until one of us was on the floor, and then roll the other way until the other was scrunched into the wall). He has also tested our patience more than once when he would crouch around a corner or under a bed and wait for just the right moment to spring out at us and scare us half to death. However, there were so many other times when he would show us love and admiration and kindness. There were so many other times when he would show his little brothers and sister the right way to go, the right choice to make, and the right friends to hang out with. Still today, he leads the way, follows the truth, and fights for justice, ever defending the American Way.
I love you, my Super-bro Curt!!

A Renewed Uplift

I ABSOLUTELY love General Conference! What a spiritual uplift it gives to me. It is one of the best investments on a Saturday and Sunday that you can get. It gives me greater determination to improve my life and gives me peace and security as I receive answers to questions. I am so grateful for a prophet of God who speaks for God in giving us guidance and direction for our specific needs. I am also grateful for modern technology that enables us to watch all of Conference.
I don’t remember Conference when I was a little girl. Then as we got older, the only Conference we were able to watch was the Sunday morning session of Conference. They started broadcasting that when we were in Overland Park, Kansas. They would broadcast that with Music and the Spoken Word. That was okay with me. Not having to go to church that Sunday and just watch 2 hours on TV made for a nice relaxing day.
I first developed a love for all four sessions of Conference when we left Houston to attend BYU. The first conference we were able to go to was October Conference. We had several of our friends from Kansas City come down from Ricks College, and with some of our friends from BYU, we went up to stand in line for the Conference, which was held in the Tabernacle. How wonderful to see the prophet in person. President Joseph Fielding Smith was truly a prophet of God!
Once I got hooked being able to go to Conference while at Brigham Young University, I graduated, came home and married Kyle. By that time, we were able to go to the church and watch all the sessions of Conference via satellite. One of the greatest memories I had was when Kyle was called to be the physical facilities high counselor and set up the satellite for all the Conference sessions. We would get a babysitter for our children all day on Saturday. Then I would go with him to the morning and afternoon sessions. We would always go to lunch in between sessions. It was so nice to be with just him, without having to worry about taking care of little children. We would go to dinner and talk about what we had learned in Conference. Then I would go home to be with the children and he would stay for the priesthood session.
That became a real tradition for us. We couldn’t watch Conference when we lived in Singapore until two weeks after Conference. Someone would send a videotape of all the Conference sessions to our leadership, and we would go to the church and watch them via videotape. However, when we returned home, we used lunch or dinner as an incentive for our children in order to watch Conference. Robbie was 13 ½, Richie was 12 years old, Jannene was 9 ½ and Lorie was 5 ½. We told them that if they would go with us to the sessions of Conference at the church on Saturday, we would let them choose a restaurant to go to in between the morning and afternoon sessions. It gave the children something to look forward to as a treat. Then we gave them specific things to look for during the conference session, and we discussed them at FHE the following Monday night.
We can get Conference now in our homes, just like the Utah people have always been able to do. It’s WONDERFUL! However, we still dress in “Sunday” clothes on Saturday and Sunday. We still go to lunch or dinner between sessions of Conference on Saturdays. And we continue to learn while sitting at the feet of the prophets of God.
Thank you Heavenly Father for General Conference!

Gotta Love the Garbage Men!!

I just LOVE the garbage men! They makes me so happy! No, I don’t have some secret attraction for the garbage truck or the men who ride it. I know this is a choice they’ve made in their lives for an occupation, and while I would NEVER want to pursue such an occupation, I am happy that they have made that choice. It takes great guts and fortitude to ride a smelly truck all day long, particularly in the blistering stagnant summer days in Houston. I am just so grateful that they are willing to pick up MY garbage. They even do it twice a week!
I’ve been to third world countries where they leave their garbage lying out on the street. When I was in the Philippines, the trash lined the streets almost waist high. Pretty disgusting, to be sure. I’m SO happy that when I have smelly cantaloupe rinds or shrimp peels, I can put them out with the trash and they are gone within a few hours. I even put out our basketball pole one day that one of Lorie’s darling boy “friends” knocked over in a macho gesture to slam dunk the ball. I watched them put that thing in and gradually it crumbled up as the crusher pulled it in and was gone from my house.
I’m even happier that they are picking up my garbage most days before 10:00 in the morning (in fact they’re going by even as I write). They used to not pick up our trash until 2:00 or 3:00 or even 4:00 in the afternoon, and then we really did have to watch what we put our trash in, because if we left out our trash in just plastic bags, the crows and cats and other varmints would come foraging for food, and we would come home to a ripped up plastic bag and trash strewn across our yard.
The big struggle was when they decided to start coming by at 7:45 or 8:00 AM. We woke up one morning to the sound of the garbage truck going into our cul-de-sac street. We had to jump out of our beds, throw on something decent, grab our trash bags and run them out to the street before the truck came back out our cul-de-sac and picked up the trash on our side of the street. There were even a couple of times that we had to take our trash across Park Shadow’s Trail to the other side of Roaring Rapids Dr. and subtly slip our trash next to the Parish’s or Stojanik’s trash. Just like Pavlov and his dogs, though, we learned not to do that more than once!
The garbage men have taught me a great lesson in preparedness. I get up early on trash days (because I wouldn’t want to put my trash out the night before to become food for all the critters around here) and put my trash out. Then, no matter when the trash man comes, I just smile when I hear them drive down my street, because I know all my trash is out of my house and I’m not scrambling around. It gives me great peace and happiness.
I think about the ant and the grasshopper...how the ant prepared for the winter months while the grasshopper played. Then when the cold and winds came, the ant was safe and warm in his cozy home while the grasshopper was out in the cold, forced to forage food and shelter. I don’t want to be “out in the cold” preparing for sudden catastrophic or unexpected events to come. I prefer the peace that comes from being prepared, having my ducks in a row, having the trash out on trash day. Thanks for the lesson, Mr. Garbage man!!

Happy April Fool's Day

I want to wish to all a Happy April Fool’s Day. Hope you weren’t tricked by too many people.
In consideration of the day, I want to share our experience of fooling and being fooled...
Jann and I, being twins, had always wanted to play an April Fools Joke on someone. We had the ability, looking very much alike, to confuse people. After all, with our voices sounding so similar, we could call someone on the phone (Emery and our parents got fooled all the time...) and talk for quite awhile before the person on the other end of the phone discovered that they were speaking to a different twin than they thought they were speaking to. I even remember one time shortly after Jann moved to Dallas, that we changed the dresses we were wearing and tried to fool our little children (ages 2-7). They all ran to the opposite “mama”, until we laughingly straightened the confusion out.
When Jann and I were in junior high, we decided to fool our teachers on April Fool’s Day. We knew there would be hazards involved, but we knew enough about each other’s classes that we felt we could pull it off. We prepped each other and prepared for the big day. Of course, we were too chicken to illegally pull off this stunt...so we went into our principal and requested his permission to do it. He laughed when he heard of our plan, but promised he would not say anything to our teachers...
We were very nervous on April Fool’s Day, because we’d never tried something this daring before. But we geared up for the different classes we would encounter. There were a few of the classes (like PE, etc.) that were easy squeezy classes to fake. However, I remember going into a class...can’t even remember the class, but it was something major like geography. Jann and I were both in her class together. We had forgotten to exchange the assignments that we had to turn in, and we still had our own assignments. So then we had to 'fess up, and everyone had a good laugh. We were the talk among many of our friends for the next several days...
Yes, though we tried to “Fool”, we definitely got “Fooled”!!

With consolation, I’ll share my favorite April Fool’s song that I used to sing with my preschool children when I taught preschool:

APRIL FOOL’S DAY

Your hair is the color of tomato soup
April Fools, April Fools
There’s a great big gorilla in the chicken coop
April April Fools.

Chorus:
Oh, look out the window, what’dya see?
Peaches on the cherry tree.
I fool you, you fool me,
This is April Fool’s Day...

The pig in the parlor has a big cigar,
April Fools, April Fools,
There’s a 3 headed elephant in Grandpa’s car,
April April Fools..

Chorus:

The cow in the clover gave the horse a kiss,
April Fools, April Fools
You can’t ever sing a silly song like this
‘Cept on April Fool’s Day...
April April Fools.

Looking Down and Up

I cannot continue this blog without looking down and up. The purpose of my “looking down” is looking down the lineup of my siblings...way down the line...to the only other sister that I have been blessed with in this life; my dear sister Liz. Is it possible to look up to someone who is almost ten years your junior? With many other families, this would not be possible, much less desirable. I mean, why on earth would you ever want to let a younger sister know how much you hold them up as a role model and ideal? Don’t you always want to be the one they look up to? How is it, then, that I can look down at my sister and still look up?
One way is that my little sister Liz is taller than I am. She must have gotten the Hanks genes, while Jann and I got the Remington genes. She also got the beautiful blonde hair with curls, while Jann and I got the STRAIGHT fine brown hair that breaks off when any rubber band wraps around it. Everyone doted and loved this precious little girl. After all, who wouldn’t love this little darling who was parked right in the middle of four onry brothers? I know Jann and I were some of the chief doters. We were so thrilled to have another little sister after three brothers.
Being almost ten years older than Liz, she wasn’t very old before we were off to college, leaving her alone to fend for herself among her brothers. She had to learn to be tough and to be strong. Her independent little spirit helped her survive growing up. She was one of the first ones of our siblings to go off and get a job. I remember watching her take off to walk or drive down Lakeside Estates Dr. and across Westheimer to work at Target. She loved the work and loved the money. She worked her way through college, and helped get her husband through college.
Over the years, this independent spirit of hers, coupled with a great work ethic has served her well. She is a sharp business woman, starting up two successful businesses out of her home, one in the medical transcription business and one in the photography business. This has allowed her to be at home with her children while supporting her sweet husband Kent in his work, schooling, bishoping and raising 4 great kids. She is highly respected and loved everywhere she goes, whether at work, at church, or at home. Her talents with music, children, and photography (she's the best!!) are awesome!!
However, I will tell you where I love my sweet sis the most. Although I wasn’t home through a lot of her growing up years, I did move home the summer after graduation from college and before I got married (Jann was married). Liz and I shared a room together. I was able to rediscover this fireball that was my little sister. She was around when I got married and became her Young Women’s President. We lived just a few miles away from home, and as we had our babies, Liz was the first one there to hold them, bathe them, babysit them, and love them. Now it was her turn to dote. Do you know what that does for a mom? Wow, I loved this young woman who was blessing our home!!
I have loved staying close through the years...watching her raise her two cute boys and two darling girls. I have definitely taken advantage of her computer and Word Perfect skills.
Most of all, I just love being around her. She has a sense of humor that is contagious, infectious. She has a genuine love for all people and is a natural and easy conversationalist. She always makes people feel comfortable when they are around her.
I would have loved to have had Liz come to earth as triplets with Jann and I. However, she had a greater mission, and we have all been blessed because of it.
Liz, when I’m older, can I grow up to be with you someday? I know you will always be my little sister, and I will always be your older sister, but I am so grateful we are linked together for eternity. Like the pillow says that you gave me, which is prominently displayed on my bed:

I smile because you are my sister.
I laugh because you can’t do anything about it!

Love ya, sis!!