Dear Brother Angel Moroni

Dear Brother Angel Moroni:

Can we talk?

We haven’t connected for a while.  You have been so popular and so busy that I wanted to give you some space and time to transition into your new role as the welcoming symbol of the fully-operational Kansas City Missouri Temple.

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You and I have had a good run. 

I believe I am one of the first Missourians (which, technically I am really an Alaskan living in Missouri) to welcome you to your new home.

We have spent a lot of time together alone these last 14 months in rain, sun, heat, clouds, snow, evening, early morning and fog.  And neither of us has been blown away by a tornado.  Yet.  J

We have met a lot of folks who see you from the freeway and can’t help but come and ask who you are.  They are drawn to you and the glow of the building.

 We have seen over 90,000 guests come through your doors,  eating 118,000 snicker doodle cookies during their visit. Sorry, I would have given one to you but you don’t have a fully operational mouth.

Enjoyed your second temple Fun Run.

You have even spent time with a prophet of God.

See, what I mean…you have been busy.

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Which brings me to my point today.

We both know that you have “outgrown” me.

 And it’s ok.  It’s right.  Like the time a teenager moves out for the first time…..it is time.

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It has been my privilege to keep you company this last year when you really didn’t have anyone else.

We have had some precious moments together, you and me.

Like when Tom died in June and I came to find peace that night.

And when my mother, who is not LDS,  got to tour the temple even before I did (insert jealous Val here).

I brought some people I really love to see you during the open house which included my wise mentor, my favorite Baptists I make homeless lunches with, and an eskimo boy, far from his Alaskan village home.

Some of our best friends being sealed a few weeks ago.  And other best friends gathered together to attend.

And I loved it when my non-member father said “What’s up with that Angel Macaroni?”   Good times, my friend, good times.
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As expected, the time has come for the nature of our relationship to change.

I am moving on to other projects and will not be coming to see you in my housecoat and camera as much.  Which I am sure all those early morning commuters are glad to hear.

But, in some ways, I may be seeing your more than I was.  But only for a passing moment when I go inside and out of the temple.

But I don’t think you will miss me that much.

So many people are visiting you on a daily basis and keeping you company.  Like the mom and her girls who came to eat their Sonic milkshakes last night just to see you.  Or the new temple workers from down south who are going to be sleeping in our guest room while they are in town serving in the temple so they can save some money for their mission in two years.  And just to be clear, they are “ranchers” with farmer tans.  :)

All said, Brother Angel Moroni, I am so happy that our relationship has changed.  There has not been a moment since the temple opened that I have been over there that there isn’t just wonderful, smiling faces standing below you, both inside the temple and out.

I was thinking that sometimes friends dedicate songs to each other.  I would like to dedicate one to you.

I love that you and I are not going to be like that popular song  “Now You’re Just Somebody I Used To Know.” 

I think we are more like “Families Can Be Together Forever.”    Even if we aren’t eating snicker doodle cookies while we are doing it.  J

See you soon, Brother

Love
Sister Val

The Difference a Year Makes

Dear Beloved BFF to the 11th power: 
Tom Allison,

It was a exactly one year ago, yesterday, as I was leaving to go home that I leaned over you sitting so quietly in your "man chair" and kissed your pokey-haired top of your head and said I loved you.  You were lucid and clearly replied "I love you, too." 

Those are the last words we spoke to each other in this life.  Doesn't get better than that. How many friends are lucky enough to get to say that?

It will be a year on Wednesday that I raced to your house, only to have you pass away when I was parking the car in your driveway.  At first I was mad at you.  How could you die without me?  Couldn't you have waited that extra 30 seconds?  I deserved to be there.  I had earned it.

But, a year later, I have gone back to that moment of you in the man chair several times, and have decided that THAT was the perfect ending to this chapter of our friendship. 

Ahhh, the difference a year makes.

Yesterday, June 2nd, I found a Tom mix cd you had burned for our family in August 2004.  It was full our your favorite songs, some of which I had never heard before meeting you.  I remember the conversation when we talked about all those songs.  We were in Northtowne at the Wendy's.  You were driving Mr. Fun and I around in the big blue truck, looking for a car to buy.  Ours had been totaled in an accident that almost killed The Boy and set off a chain of crazy events that summer. I will never forget that year and believe me, sometimes wish I could.

So, as I am speeding along yesterday in the sunny yellow car, listening to the Tom Was Here mix, your man Enrique Iglesis came on.  And I smiled.

It was awesome, Tom.  I smiled for happiness.  And I had peace.  It was one, if not the first genuine time, that when something reminded me of you, I didn't wince on the inside.  I was joyful.  I was thinking of you and not thinking "I can't believe he is dead" or "How much we all miss him."  It was plain and sweet "Tom loved this guy." 

How liberating.

Ahhh, the difference a year makes.

I know that everyone is not living in the "wince-free" zone.  I know.

Because you progressed in your eternal journey, for lack of a better phrase it "freed me up" to go on to different things.  Things we might not have fully invested in if you had still been here. 

I like to think of this as the "Silver Lining" that you moved on.

We went to Alaska.  For a long time.

I went to Utah for a day.

The Girl lived out her bucket list and we went to Mil-i-wau-kee.

Thanks Wayne's World.

We made new friends.

We volunteered more.

 

The baby goats started trooping.

We took more field trips for fun.

And I stopped feeling guilty you

were too sick to come along.

I spent more time alone,

which has been healthy for me.

I witnessed a miracle at the Cultural Celebration

with my own eyes.

We dedicated the temple.

 I got to help write a book.

and the Temple Chasers got to be together IN the temple,

not just lurk around outside.

Beloved Tom,  I wanted you to know that you are missed every day.  That we think of you at all sorts of great and sad times.  I know for myself that your spirit continues to live.  For moments to sacred to share in public, this I know.

It will be my honor to share your life on Thursday in front of 300 folks who work for hospice.  I hope you can join us.  That is 300 folks who were not blessed to know you in this life.  I know they will feel like they missed out.  I know I would have.

We are happy and we are loving you.  You know we can't help it.  You are just so "Hoover Dam" cool that way.

Ahh, the difference a year makes.  :)

Pssst.....wanna buy a temple book?

http://www.kansascitytemplebook.net/

Hey you!  Over there...wanna buy a temple book?  I have been serving on a church committee since January that is putting together the approved commemorative book of the story and photographs of the Kansas City Temple.  The website went live today.  Check it out.

Unless something more amazing comes along, this is slated to be the cover.  A professional named Nathan Gifford (photo jedi master....check out his site....http://www.studiogifford.com) and I shot it together the other night.  I would not recommend scaling a rock wall in the dark....just sayin'.

It is a true labor of love and I know with all my heart it is the work I have been recently honored to do.

I need a nap.

Dear Self:

Val, you need a nap. 

Too bad you lost your journal on your whirlwind trip to Utah last fall and you could add all this to it.  Life is good though, because you did score yourself a coupon at the Staples to buy a new one...but it isn't quite the same.  :)

That said, without going into the details (who doesn't love to hear the juicy details of Val's life.....oh wait, Mr. Fun!)  suffice it to say that come July, you are going to need a nap. 

And a housecleaner.

Actually the housekeeper we could use THIS morning, since the raccoons got on the trash bags on the porch last night and the house smells like Hawaiian BBQ (those were super yummy ribs....shout out to Greg L!) for the small (50) gathering after the Tallant's Lovefest yesterday.

It is true.  They are loved. 

And there is trash on the porch.

To make a long story short, which is too bad because I even have pictures to go with it, Hot Rod Rock Star of the Northland, Dave, and his super-duper-cooooolest-futrure-bridesmaid-there-will-ever-be according to The Girl, Carol, went to the new Kansas City Temple (first Saturday it was opened for business) and were sealed (in their case, basically renewed their wedding vows--just for eternity).  Or as some water aerobic participant called it-- "strapped." 

It was a heavenly day.

And I was glad to be a part of it.

One more thing....

for those of you who wonder if those we love who die still exsist and are near us after this life,
the answer is yes.  :)

Pssst.... I have a secret.

Thank you for the beautiful pictures of the temple.  We are using them at the end of the program.  Originally we wanted to 'create' a temple on the arena floor, but as the numbers of youth grew we tossed that idea out the window and now we are creating it visually - with the Temple Chaser photos. It is really cool to see the progression from bare field to beautiful edifice!  It will be unforgettable. 

S.C.
This is a note I received from the LDS Church Cultural Celebration committee.  The photographs I have been taking for the Temple Chasers Blog for almost two years as a gift for my "sister" Cheryl Kanenwisher will be used for the closing of the program.  There will be 13,000 in the arena (including the president of the Mormon Church) as well as thousands who will watch it over braodcast through the 12 stake, multiple state midwest region.

A Cultural Celebration is where the youth (ages 12-18) of the area that the temple will be serving get together and put on a theater production of the history of that area.  This group for our region is 3,000 kids strong.  They have been practicing for months now.  They have learned dances and songs.  Read about the outline here:http://www.kcldstemple.blogspot.com/2012/02/youth-cultural-temple-celebration-info.html
These are notes that I took at the orientation meeting in February.

The official website is:  http://www.kctempleevents.org/

You can learn about all the nitty gritty details of what this will really look like.  It promises to be a great experience. 

3,000 kids singing about doing good?  Can't wait.
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So, how do I feel about this?

The first thing I thought was "Seth has to do this.  He will get to be in the presence of the prophet of the church.  Come hell or high water (as my mother says), he has to do this."  And when I say prophet, yep, I mean THAT kind...you know, the Moses kind. 

Can you say "prophet" and "hell" in the same sentence?  :)

Everything has been arranged.  He is so sick again that he will not be on the stage.  He will be a backstage crew.  The committee has worked hard to include everyone who wants to participate, even those kiddos with cognitive struggles like Downs or Autism.  I appreciate that as a mother of a boy who strives to live an everyday normal life and usually fails.
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The picture thing?  That is harder to put into words.

The first thing you need to know about the LDS Church is they are not about giving or getting individual credit. 

Mr. Fun worked in the church's Family History department many years ago.  And he rode the bus to and from work.

While riding the bus, he invented a revolutionary way to view massive amounts of data called a "viewer."  I even remember the paper diagram he drew out on and showed to me.

The Church ran with his idea, and it became the norm of data viewing across family history not only at the LDS Church but professionally world wide. 

And you will not see his name in a single place.

I imagine that this photograph presentation will be pretty much the same.  I am sure that that my name will not be found anywhere Saturday night.

And I am ok with that.

There is one way, though, that this makes me a bit sad. 

Not for the credit.  Not for the praise. 

As soon as the temple is dedicated on Sunday, I feel like the "call" I have had to shoot its pictures has come to an end.  I will still go over on great sunset nights (Angel Macaroni/Moroni would miss me).  I will visit it (but on the inside, where it is air conditioned and heated....a chance from these last couple years).  I will always feel a bond to it.  A bond that only few can understand. 

That is what happens when you serve something so faithfully. 

Especially without being asked...by humans anyway. 

I went because I felt that the voice of God asked me to go....and as evidenced by some pretty neat moments over there, I must have heard right.

The ONLY reason I am a little bummed that folks will not know those are my pictures is that I am starting a new church photography project.

It is called "The Mini Mission." 

It is a tale for another time soon, but the bottom line is that I am going to retrace the steps down to the calendar day of my great grand uncle who was a called photography missionary for the LDS Church in 1907-1908. 

There is a lovely little coffee table book in circulation, complete with his photographs and the journal he kept.  The journal my great-grandmother gave him to use on his mission.

I am going to follow his mission and journal my year and a half as well.  I have posted one entry...

http://www.theminimission.blogspot.com/

Wanna come along?

For those of you who will see the temple photos on Saturday night, whether in the Municple Auditorium or over broadcast, know that most of those lovely pictures were shot in my house coat or shorts from a little 16 year old, rusty teal-colored truck.  Just keepin' me and it real, folks.  :)