Thursday, September 18, 2014

Reading My Book to Mom

I mentioned in a previous post that I have felt directed to write a book about my mom.

When I visit each Thursday, I take the chapter I've been working on, and I read it to her aloud.

For the past three weeks, she's listened, and she seems to enjoy what I'm reading, but I could never really tell if she knew what she was hearing.

Tonight was different.

To back up a bit, it was kind of a stressful day. I received a call from my sister this morning, telling me that Mom had developed bed sores and that she needed a new mattress topper and someone to rotate her, clean her, and apply ointment every couple of hours around the clock.

This developed into a deeper conversation--one that we've known was coming but didn't quite want to face: It's time to bring in night nurses who can tend to her while our dad sleeps. Lisa started making phone calls, and tonight is the first night we have a professional nurse staying up to care for her around the clock.

I still went in for my usual Thursday night shift, taking my children with me, bringing along a cooler with our dinner ingredients, and packing my laptop, so I could read my latest chapter to Mom.

We had a wonderful night, and Mom was in good spirits, but as I rotated her, fed her, and cleaned her bed sores, I could just feel that we need to prepare ourselves for this next transition.

No one wants to lose her, and this is so incredibly hard.

After we ate dinner, Dad took his evening walk, the boys went into the front office to watch TV, and Alia and I sat at Mom's bedside. It was quiet and the sun was just barely setting--the perfect time to read. So I pulled out my laptop and shared the stories I'd drafted on Monday afternoon.

She listened carefully as I read, quiet and focused through the whole thing.

When I finished, she looked me in the eye and said, "That was very sweet."

Then as I hugged her, she said, "You have a beautiful way of...."

As she trailed off, I could tell she didn't know how to complete the sentence.

Then she paused for a moment and simply said, "Tender."

I rested my head on her chest as a few tears escaped from my eyes, and then I heard her whisper, "Thank you, Heavenly Father."

As she said those words, I remembered that distinct impression I received from the Lord a few weeks ago, instructing me to write:

April, you need to make this record. There is time for you to write. It will be a gift for you to read it to her. And even though she may appear not to know what you are reading, she will know. And she will feel the love you have for her. And she will see clearly that her work in this life has been worth it.

I hugged her even tighter, a bit of an emotional mess by that point, and then she held my face in her hands and looked at me with eyes that showed that she was really there and said, "I love you. I LOVE you."

There couldn't have been a more perfect moment. It was truly a gift.

Now if any of you happen to want to read the draft of the chapter that I shared with my mother, I've included it here. 

Thank you for being with me on this journey. I'm always tired when I get home from Long Beach, and sometimes I don't feel like writing about it.  But I keep getting the feeling that these experiences aren't just for me--that there are others out there (who may never comment here and who I may never meet) who need to hear these stories. So whoever you might be, God sends His love.

And now for today's chapter...

The Hole in the Nylons 
Miracles will happen for you.

If there’s one thing that all of us would like to see more of in our lives, it’s miracles. Wouldn’t you agree? I yearn for miracles. I pray for them. I hope for them. And one of the reasons I know they are possible is because I’ve seen them happen over and over again in the life of my mother.

This is one of my favorite stories, simple as it may be, that reminds me to trust that miracles can happen.

One Sunday morning, many many years ago, as my mother was getting ready for church, she realized that she had a hole in her nylons, several inches above her shoe line. She searched everywhere in her dresser for another pair, but to no avail. Reaching down to her ankles, she tried to stretch the nylons every which way—hoping that perhaps she could hide the hole inside her shoe or under her skirt, but no matter how much she tried, that hole sat in the same spot.

For a proper woman like my mother, having this gaping hole was somewhat of a catastrophe, but it was time to go to church, and she couldn’t spend any more time worrying about those nylons.

Taking just a moment to herself before joining the rest of the family, she gently offered a prayer: “Father, I’m so sorry that I didn’t check my nylons yesterday, and I’m sorry I don’t have an extra pair. I want to look my very best as I go to worship Thee, but for today, this will have to do.”

She then helped get all of her children into the car, drove to church (where my dad, having early morning meetings, was already there), and sat down with the family on our regular pew.

A few minutes later, still feeling badly about her nylons, she glanced down at her leg.

The hole was gone.

She felt around the sides of her calf, up by her knees, and down by her ankles, but she couldn’t find the hole anywhere.

Completely puzzled by this point, she took off her shoe, and there—on the very bottom of her foot—was the hole.

I heard this story dozens of times while I was growing up.  “April,” she told me, “There was no way that hole could have moved to the bottom of my foot. I had done everything I could to try to position it there. The Lord helped me that day. He understood what I needed, and that was a little blessing He sent just for me.”

Now I know that seems like such a simple, inconsequential thing, but the lesson it basically shouts is that miracles happen. And they’ll happen for you.

I remember one Saturday afternoon, when I needed to get five-year-old Grace to her last soccer game of the season. My husband had planned to go with me to help with our two-month-old baby and our other two children, but a last-minute urgent need from a neighbor required his assistance, and I told him I would be fine.

Once we arrived at the soccer field, I heard Grace gasp, “I forgot my socks and my soccer cleats!”

We were all devastated. There was no time to return home, this was her very last game, and there was no way they would let her play without shoes and socks.

Having learned from my mother’s example (over and over again), I gathered my children around me in the parking lot, and we offered a prayer—apologizing for forgetting the socks and cleats and asking that, if it were possible, Grace would be able to play her game.

We approached the field in faith, and moments later, we ran into a friend of ours whose son had just finished his game. As we explained our plight, our friend said, “Why doesn’t she wear Braden’s socks and cleats? He’s the same size as Grace!” We thought that was an excellent idea, so our two five-year-olds sat on the grass and made the transfer. It was perfect.

These kinds of miracles happen often. They’re always timed “just right,” and they remind me in such a powerful way that we are not alone.

One of my very favorite miracles happened on my birthday a couple of years ago—shortly after my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s—when she was in a rehabilitation center for a broken hip.

As a special treat, my husband stayed home with our four children and sent me to visit her alone for the day.  During the one-hour drive, I was thinking about a list of questions I had written down that morning—things I was hoping the Lord would help me to understand about my life’s course, like how I felt I was continually stretched too thin and that my efforts simply didn’t measure up.

Though I felt a sweetness during the drive and an immense feeling of support, I didn't receive any specific answers to my questions.

When I arrived at the center, I was privileged to have a wonderful lunch with my dad, my sister Laura, and a neighbor of ours who had come to visit. I sat next to my mom and held her hand as much as I could.  She was quiet, but happy. This was a blessing by itself because, up to that point, she hadn’t been doing very well. She had been crying a lot and repeatedly asking when she could go home.

The nurses had explained that she kept trying to find a way out.  One day they found her way out in the corner of the facility by the vending machines. Other days, she would sit by the emergency exit.  One time she made the alarm go off.

But that day, she was calm and happy--totally at ease.

Now there are two very special things about the visit that I feel I can share. 

The first is that they served birthday cake that day.

Once a month, the facility celebrates all of the residents’ birthdays at the same time.
I asked the nurses if they always serve cake on the 19th, and they said no, that it changes every month.

Then it struck me that this was a tender mercy from the Lord.  On my birthday, when I got to go spend the day with my mom--who I missed so much--He arranged for them to have cake.

The second special part of the day was a sweet experience I had while my mom and I were sitting alone in the lobby together.  I had my arms wrapped around her, and she started speaking very quietly--almost indistinctly.

I listened closer, and I could hear that she was giving me counsel and advice. 

Moving my ear as close to her lips as I could, I soon realized that in her calm, encouraging, beautiful voice, she was answering the exact questions I had written down for the Lord that morning.

I won't record the specifics because it was such a sacred moment, and the counsel was just for me, but this was one of the most precious miracles I have ever received in my entire life.

My mom has had dementia (which developed into Alzheimer’s) for pretty much the entire time I have been running Power of Moms.  She doesn't know how to use the Internet, and she isn't involved in my day-to-day life.  But as we sat together, and as she talked to me about my responsibilities, my choices, my struggles, my heart, my goals, and my daily work with my family and with my organization, it was as though she knew everything.  I can't even think about the experience without getting choked up.  No one besides the Lord could have known what to say to me, and He chose to deliver that message through the voice of the one from whom I needed to hear it the most.

I hesitated to even write anything about this experience here--because some things are just so special that you don't want to put them out in front of the world.  But in this case, I feel like He wants me to share this so that if you are struggling, you will know that He is aware of you, too. 

I have zero doubt in the Lord's capacity to perform miracles.  I know He loves all of His children--from every religion and background.  He knows we all make mistakes and that we struggle and that we need help.  And when we turn to Him, He has a limitless ability to supply everything we need.

Miracles happen. They are beautiful. And they are available for all of us.

With love,


Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Time for a Self-Assessment :)

These past six weeks have been beautiful in so many ways, but in other ways, I feel like I am going through the hardest time in my life.

Do you mind if I take a couple of minutes to do a self-assessment? I'm guessing that many of you are going through similar things, and maybe if we can go through it together, it won't seem so tricky.

I think one of the things that has made it so hard lately is that I'm not making the time to sit down and write--to step back and process everything that's happening.

I mean, I'm doing good things with my time--things that I've felt directed to do and that help the people around me, but sometimes I feel like my routines and responsibilities come in such quick succession that there's not enough time to really see what I am doing with my life. (Do you ever feel like that?)

I'll start by typing out a little summary of what's been happening around here:

My husband and I work together every day from home.  That's a dream, right? We have a partner desk, and so we face each other while we hold our meetings and type on our computers. We've started recording podcasts together and working on some pretty amazing projects for Power of Moms/Power of Families. He jogs behind me while I rollerblade. He puts me down for naps when I'm cranky. He whistles at me and steals kisses during the day. I'm head-over-heels for him. Our work isn't easy, but we're growing together.

A lot of my time recently has been spent helping my children start the new school year--with special shopping trips for each one (where they learned how to shop on a budget and buy just a few new things they really needed), Back-to-School Night, and all kinds of other little details. We're in a good daily routine now, with morning scripture study and our afternoon smoothie--plus lots of time to talk, prepare meals, and sing together. Our relationships have never been so good.

Every Thursday, we take care of my mom. I've been writing that book I mentioned a few posts back, and each week I hold her hand and read her a new chapter while she rests in her bed. She doesn't seem to understand what I'm reading, but at the end she always smiles and says, "That's so nice!" (A part of one of my chapters was posted on Power of Moms last Tuesday, if you'd like to read it.)

Power of Moms is growing and becoming such a blessing--to my own family and to others. This community is a joint project. I don't take the credit.  But there is something so incredibly powerful happening over there, and I feel an enormous responsibility to do a good job with this. So...we're in the middle of mobilizing/redesigning our site, automating a bunch of systems in our database software, promoting our new webinar series, building Power of Moms Radio, and working on dozens of other projects that fuel the site and community. Honestly, I had no idea what a big job this would be, but it's exciting...and sometimes overwhelming.  :)

I've also been spending quite a bit of time with my calling at church (which I love). I get to be the Personal Progress Coordinator, which means I help the Young Women (ages 12-18) to set and move forward on personal goals. This gives me the opportunity to work closely with Grace and Alia, and I've been creating some new templates and frameworks that will hopefully help the girls to draw closer to Christ--in a way that will have a lasting impact on their lives.

Then there are the more personal systems I've been trying to put in place.  This summer, after being inspired by Jordan Page over at Fun, Cheap, or Free, I completely revamped my spending plan. I thought I was pretty good at budgeting before, but Jordan has helped me to take it to a whole new level. I can't even explain how much this has empowered me.

And after reading The Calorie Myth by Jonathan Bailor, I changed up my diet so I'm now eating 10+ servings of vegetables a day, balanced with lean protein, whole-food fats, and low-fructose fruits, and my body has never felt stronger or happier. (I get to record a podcast with him on Friday, and I'm so excited!) Now I'm trying to get my whole family on board (we're moving in the right direction, but wow, it's a process).

I'm also trying to make time to really be in my scriptures each day. I want to hear the Lord. I need to hear the Lord. He is so, so good to us.

And in the midst of all this, I know He wants me to get enough rest, to read good books, to sit and think, and to realize that everything doesn't have to happen right this minute.

I know I have a good life. I'm living my dream in pretty much every part of it.  

None of it is easy, but I generally feel so grateful and happy.

But here's one element where I need to improve: I need more faith. More faith that the Lord will bless me with the power to do all of these things I feel excited and inspired to do.

I'm guessing that's the hard part for most of us.

In Sunday School a few weeks ago, we read in 1 Kings 17 about the widow who gave Elijah the first portion of her very last bit of food. (Remember that story about the barrel of meal and the cruse of oil that never failed?)

I raised my hand in class and asked how I could better apply that to my life right now. "I feel stretched too thin sometimes," I said. "I wonder if I'll have enough time/energy/patience/ability to do what I feel the Lord wants me to do. How can I better trust in the Lord? How can I know that He will help me?"

And then others in the class started raising their hands in response. At least ten of them. They shared beautiful experiences from their own lives--when they were sure they weren't going to have what they needed, but the Lord came through...every single time.

Something amazing happened as I listened to their stories.

I felt the sweetness of the Spirit tell me that the Lord is totally aware of me. He knows how hard it is for me to move forward each day. He knows how I feel during this whole process of losing my mom. He understands my anxiety over the projects that require so much of my energy, and He recognizes that every day feels like I'm digging into the barrel for that last handful of meal.

But He keeps giving me exactly what I need. He sends mentors and helpers and angels to assist me. He helps me to breathe and to see the vision He has for me. And His Spirit lifts my heart--not so much that I don't have to stretch myself, but enough that I have total confidence that I am not alone.

So that's where I am today. Grateful for Him. Grateful for this life. Hoping that I will one day get to the point where this all doesn't feel so hard, but working desperately to enjoy the process, even while it does.

With love,

Monday, July 28, 2014

Richard and Linda Eyres' New Book: The Turning

Richard and Linda Eyre are like a second set of parents to me.

About 15 years ago, I knew them only through their books (which are amazing), but over the past seven years, as I have been running Power of Moms with their oldest daughter, Saren, I have had the chance to really get to know them.

And if there is one thing they absolutely stand for, it is the family.

Well, today is the first day of the launch campaign for their most recent book--The Turning--and I just ordered my copy on Amazon.

If you'd like to learn more about their book or join their book launch team, simply click here!

Sunday, July 27, 2014

EFY "Power of One" Class

Especially for Youth (from this point on written as EFY) is a conference organized by a group of amazing individuals at BYU for youth between the ages of 14 and 18. There are sessions held all over the U.S. (and maybe the world...I'm not sure), and I feel so grateful to have had the chance to be an EFY teacher since 2008.

I first attended EFY when I was 17, and it was honestly a life-changing experience for me.

To dedicate a whole week to spiritual growth and enjoy great friendships with like-minded individuals was empowering, and I always had this secret wish to get to teach there.

Well, back in 2007, our friend John Hilton--who has been involved in EFY for years--came to visit, and he said, "You know, April, there aren't a lot of mothers teaching at EFY. Why don't you apply?"

I'd never even considered the idea before. I didn't even know I could apply. For some reason, I had assumed teachers were chosen by invitation only.

But that little idea took root, and within a couple of months, my application was in.  (There's a funny story that goes with this about how I had to write out my application in little bursts of time because I was nursing Spencer at the time, and it was a period of my life where I rarely changed out of my pajamas...but I did eventually get my application in, and I was thrilled to be accepted.)

This is the Monday evening gathering at the session of EFY I attended this month:

And, really, what made this extra special was having my 14-year-old daughter, Alia, with me this time. In the past, I've gone alone, and it was 100 times better to have Alia there. She came to every class and even helped with one of my classes.  Love her.

Here's my "teacher view" of one of my classes (so fun that the room they assigned me is the EXACT room where Eric and I met 16 years ago).

And just in case any of you are wondering what kinds of things we teach in these classes, I recorded my "Power of One" class and thought I'd include the link here.  (You can click here or on the image below to watch it...)

I'm not sure if my schedule is going to make it possible for me to go back to EFY again, but I'll keep my fingers crossed. It is a fantastic experience, and I feel blessed to have been a part of it.

With love,

Friday, July 25, 2014

Introduction to the Book I Need to Write

Dear Friends,

I've been thinking about you a lot lately. I don't know most of you personally, but for those who do comment here on this blog, I feel such a close kinship with you.

In fact, I keep feeling the desire to write here more often--just so I will have the chance to interact with you and learn from your wisdom.

It's amazing how we can gather together online, even when we're living our separate lives in different places around the world. This is a true miracle to me.

Right now I'm in the middle of our family's bustling summer activities.

We got back a couple of hours ago from a pool day with some friends, I just completed some computer work, and I'm heading downstairs in a few minutes to make snacks for my children and tidy the kitchen a bit.

But my heart has been full these past couple of weeks as I've been thinking about the book I need to write this year.

And since everything is quiet right now and the impression to type it here is coming strong, I decided I better pay attention to these feelings.

So here we go...the first draft of the introduction to my book:


My mom is currently in the last stages of Alzheimer's. It started a few years ago when she began to forget minor details--like where she put her phone or who had come to visit her that day. Then she started forgetting major things, like how to drive herself home or which bank held all the money she and my dad had saved.

I still remember the first day she couldn't recall the names of all her children--because my name was one that she'd forgotten. And now, as I write, she is in bed full time, with hospice care coming in three days a week because her legs have forgotten how to stand.

With millions of people suffering from Alzheimer's, our situation isn't entirely unique, but I have felt a consistent impression to write this book, and I'd like to explain the "why" a little bit more.

A couple of years ago, I wrote an article for my Power of Moms website called "Your Children Want YOU!" That article, which was read by more than two million people, included the first public mention of my mom's memory loss (we didn't know then that it was Alzheimer's).

Since that time, as I have continued to write about our family's experiences and the powerful lessons my mom taught me, I've discovered that the story of her life isn't something I can keep to myself. People who have similar feelings of adoration for their mothers seem to want someone to put words to what they feel. And people who have painful memories of their mothers want to know how they can break the cycle in their own families. (These are brave, beautiful souls.)

So an idea came to me to write a follow-up book--this book--and share the stories that illustrate how my mom exemplified deliberate motherhood and how I am trying so hard to be like her.

As my mom's health slowly declined, I decided to write a chapter at a time and read it to her during my weekly visits.

But as her decline became more rapid, I stopped writing. I felt like I didn't have time and that maybe I should wait until she goes back to God. And then I can write.

But on a recent visit to my mother's bedside, the instructions came clearly:

April, you need to make this record. There is time for you to write. It will be a gift for you to read it to her. And even though she may appear not to know what you are reading, she will know. And she will feel the love you have for her. And she will see clearly that her work in this life has been worth it.

So I am writing--imperfectly at best--because I don't think it is possible to adequately capture the immense love I feel for my mother and for her lasting influence on my life.

But I do what I feel the Lord wants me to do, and I hope through this process, these stories that are so close to my heart will be helpful to you, as well.

With love,

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Recording the Ordinary

We just got home tonight after traveling for two weeks as a family. (It feels so great to be in our own little place again!)

Grace had a basketball camp at BYU the first week, and Alia and I attended a conference called "Especially for Youth" the second week (I was a teacher, and she was a participant), 

and in the midst of all that, we spent lots of time with family and friends, attended Eric's high school reunion, and simply enjoyed the beauty of the mountains, lakes, and rivers in Utah.

I don't typically write up vacation details on this blog (because I worry about leaving anyone or anything out), and I always feel like I need to write about "important" things so I don't waste the time of anyone who happens to stop by and read this, but tonight I had the feeling that I need to start recording more of the ordinary (because someday the details of this "ordinary" life might mean more to me than I know).

So here's what happened today:

- We had a ping pong tournament in my sister's basement:

- Then the cousins ran down the street and chased our car while we all waved goodbye.

- We drove for 10 hours to get home--singing our favorite songs for at least three of those hours, reading books and watching movies for a few more hours, stopping for lunch at Cafe Rio, and (of course) Eric let me take a great nap. He's so good to me.

- We also had a wonderful talk on the drive and read through the "Entertainment and Media" section of a little pamphlet from church called "For the Strength of Youth." (You can google it if you want to see what it says.) We talked about how media can be fantastic for helping us learn, communicate, and become better people. And we discussed how easy it can be to get distracted by screens and waste precious time. Today was also the first day I really talked with Spencer about what pornography is. He's only six, but I wanted to start the dialogue now so that he will know which things are appropriate and which things are not.

- I read on Facebook today about a friend of a friend's whose husband of 16 years died in a car accident, and how she and her six children have been so blessed and cared for during this traumatic time. (I can't even imagine...)

I held Eric's hand tight during the whole rest of the drive and thought deeply about how I want to live every day with no regrets--making sure my family members feel my love and doing everything I can to listen to God and be an instrument in His hands. I want to be totally ready to go whenever it is my time.

Yes, it's easy to get caught up in the insignificant details of life, and yes, I am anxious to get our garage organized and our bedroom painted.

But when I really think about what's most important, it's the people I love and the work God wants me to do. (Doesn't that feel so simple?)

So that's my record for now. Hope all of you who are reading this are feeling strong and supported today. I wish we could all just sit around and really talk at the end of each night, but for now, I invite you to share any thoughts you've been having lately, and I will just consider this the next best thing! 

With love,

Thursday, June 26, 2014

What I Need to Say About Faith, Power, and Womanhood

I typically stay out of "media firestorms."

It's simply not where I feel my voice is most effective.

I write often about my faith, and I do my best to strengthen families and help people of all religions to find common ground, but I rarely feel the desire or the responsibility to add my words to a flurry of voices--many of which seem to be arguing simply for the sake of arguing.

But this week, the church I love has been prominently featured in mostly all (if not all) of the top media sources--discussing women and the priesthood--and the headlines have made my heart hurt.

I understand that this is the way media works. They grab onto issues that strike at the core of controversial topics, and they write their stories in a way that will generate the most clicks and the most heated debates.

I also understand that there is a lot of deep emotion involved here--and there are women with serious questions and concerns that need to be discussed and resolved.  I am all for calm, meaningful discussions.

It's just that jumping into the middle of a heated debate, where the focus seems to be more on "getting attention" than "getting to the heart of the issue" has never appealed to me.

But the other day, I read this line in one of the articles: "Most Mormon women stay silent on the issue of equality."

And the more I thought and prayed about this, the more I felt that I needed to say something--not in an attempt to throw myself into the craziness out there, but to leave a record for my daughters and granddaughters who may someday wonder where I stood on this subject. I simply can't risk my silence mistakenly communicating the idea that either (1) I don't care or (2) I wasn't allowed to speak. (Neither of which statements are true.)

Today, I am going to share just a little bit of my story and create a simple record of things I know to be true.

In one of the interviews I read, a woman at the heart of this movement said that she had been raised by a mother who said, "one day women will hold the priesthood."

This struck me to be so different than the way my mother (a lifetime member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) raised me.

I don't know if she and I ever talked specifically about women and the priesthood, but in essence, her words and actions said this:

"Through our faith in Jesus Christ, both women and men currently have the privilege to receive all of the blessings the Father has for us. There is no need to wait for anything. The power is yours. Now. And I'm going to show you how to access it."

And then she did.

She taught me to pray. She taught me to feast on the scriptures. She taught me to listen to promptings from the Spirit, she taught me to serve others and happily do whatever God asked me to do. She showed me how to work side-by-side with my husband and train my children and turn to the right Source for anything I could ever possibly need.

And as she taught me these things, I was an eyewitness to the fruits of that kind of faith.

Angels minister to my mother. Miracles happen. Her influence and light extends across the globe to millions of people, and there is a beauty and peace and unbelievable power that even the most eloquent words will never come close to describing.

I am a grateful, happy member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I feel 100% equal to my husband (who loves and honors the priesthood he bears) and to every other priesthood holder I have ever known, and I know that my ability to serve within our church is magnified by the priesthood--not diminished. Not once have I felt slighted or unappreciated because I am a woman. Not once.

I feel empowered, cherished, protected, and blessed--and confident beyond measure that the Lord is aware of each of us and wants His sons and daughters to receive every blessing He has for us.

Our church is a living, growing organization. And yes, if the Lord needs to make changes, they will be directed by those given the stewardship to do so. I trust that.

I feel for those who have obviously not had the same experiences I have had. I in no way mean to diminish their pain or their situations by sharing my opposite view, but in all the areas I have lived--coast to coast--the experiences I have shared above have been the rule--not the exception.

So to my daughters and granddaughters, please know that I have absolute confidence in the way our church is organized. Please remember that you are a cherished child of God, and that your potential to influence and strengthen the world is limitless. And please do everything in your power to carry on the legacy of faith that is your privilege to carry.

I am leaving the comments open on this post, and I am happy to answer any questions those who are reading this might have. I do ask that all comments and questions be written respectfully, in a way that generates helpful discussion.

With love,
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