Chain

I wrote this paper for my Engl 2010 class. 

Chain

Searching through the toolbox for my mom’s trusty 5/8” stainless steel crescent wrench, my ten-year-old hands find that familiar cold metal tool. The plan of attack formulates in my mind as I grab the next few tools needed for the job. My little blue Schwinn bicycle’s chain has fallen off. I have to lie to say that this surprises me. This bike most likely sat on the shelves of Wal-Mart before its purchase and doesn’t have the longevity required to keep up with my adventurous self. Between riding down the local sledding hill in the summer, popping wheelies and hitting makeshift jumps, the bike has taken a serious beating. Its paint and stickers peel off like glue on your skin; the tires wear thin due to constant attempts to make the longest skid marks on the sidewalk, and the handlebars have started to come loose. The chain doesn’t stay on for longer than a week, as of late.

The task in front of me has become so routine that I can do it with my eyes closed. Take the bike out to a sunny spot in the driveway, flip it over so that the handlebars and seat hold it up. Sit down on the warm concrete, grab the crescent wrench and pliers, and attach them to both rear axle nuts. Take a big breath of the rubber scented air and push on the wrench with full force. Move the wheel forward and grab the greasy chain. Carefully align the spaces in the chain with the teeth on the drive gear, repeat for the rear gear. Pull the wheel back until the chain becomes taut, tighten one of the nuts, then the other. Make sure the wheel aligns properly with the frame. Once completed with all of this tighten the nuts the rest of the way with all available force to ensure a few more rides before the chain falls off again.

This tedious work bores me more and more as the months roll on. I need a new bike, I tell myself. Maybe someday I’ll get one whose chain doesn’t fall off. We call bikes without chains broken. No one wants a broken bike.

***

            The first chain found use as early as 225 BC to draw water out of a well (Tsubakimoto). Since then the chain has found use in hundreds of different applications. It has shown great versatility. A chain can attach to an anchor holding a two-ton boat steady in the water. It can hang around a child’s neck bearing a gift from a parent. It can also keep a vicious dog from attacking. These applications have given society a lot of experience with this simple object. Over the years the saying “a chain is only as strong as its weakest link” popularized. Surely because many people experienced the devastating moment when a chain breaks in a moment of need. A lot of people rely on chains for many things. The disappointment of a broken chain gives this phrase a sense of relatability and inherent wisdom. Nobody likes a broken chain.

            Chains find uses everywhere. Car engines have chains. Metal necklaces and bracelets often use chains to hold diamonds or other stones. Manufacturing facilities have chains to run their machines. Life’s most mundane and normal things depend on smaller mundane things to make them run. Things like chains, gears, electricity, and fire hold a fundamental role in our society’s function. If all the chains disappeared, the havoc caused can make anyone appreciate the importance of such a simple little thing. Cars can’t run without chains. People’s diamond necklaces become piles of loose stones without chains. Mass transit halts without chains. Mass production lines come to a standstill without chains. Life as we know it trips and falls because society needs chains like relationships need love.

***

The saying goes, “measure twice, cut once” when one works on important projects. A lack of surety in the measurements can cause a vehicle to not drive safely, a house to stand crooked or a chain to break. The wisdom of this saying painfully comes into perspective in my home. My parents don’t talk about how they met. I know the story, though. Their eyes met, they talked, they fell into something (I hesitate to call it love), and the next day, engaged. Deciding to create a chain composed of the two of them with the duty of providing for a family happened quickly. Too quickly. The years pass on and children come. The hasty chain that they have created has caused them many problems. It keeps falling off and threatening to break. They take their creation to a marriage mechanic. He tells them to “Strengthen the links here and there.”  These minor repairs do not fix the problem. The new pieces only do so much for this high tension, low strength chain.

I hear screaming again. The high pitched, anger filled voice that belongs to my mother races down the hallway and pierces my ears. This does not mark the first time I’ve heard that voice. The next voice to race down the same hallway belongs to my father. His voice has a much more defensive tone to it. Having no more than five years of experience under my belt, I can’t quite make sense of the events unfolding before my eyes. I hear harsh words and feel deep wounds in the making. I understand so little.

However, I do understand what it means when something breaks. The something cannot function. It needs repairs or a trip to the landfill. What they had created didn’t have the strength it needed to survive the journey. The chain broke. The marriage shattered. The world around my family fell to pieces. Though I do not know what caused that chain’s demise, I do know that broken chains make broken bikes.

***

The Oxford English Dictionary defines a chain as “A connected series of links (of metal or other material) passing through each other, or otherwise jointed together, so as to move on each other more or less freely, and thus form a strong but flexible ligament or string” (chain). Its definition offers a glimpse at the connectivity of life. Each segment of the chain has another segment attached at either end. This formation’s fragility makes it prone to failure since each link depends upon the other. How striking its similarity to our existence.

Each day connects to the one before it and the one after it. Each moment consists of the next and the previous. At any moment our lives can come to an end. However, life as a whole forms a never-ending chain of generations. On an individual scale, though, different parts of our lives move with different chains. We have our way of getting money chain, our hobby chain, our family chain, our happiness chain, etc. When those chains break, we often feel pain and surprise from the sudden halt to our momentum. We find ourselves wondering whether to fix the broken chain or throw it away. At what point do we know if something remains worthy of fixing versus in need of scrapping? Can we say there exists a clear line that we cross, where we tell ourselves, “That was the last time”? Much like a broken chain on a bike, the choice remains whether or not to fix it. Knowing that many hours of toil lie in front of the person deciding to fix it, while many hours of pain lie in front of the other takes the choice to a more personal level. With either decision causing pain, the question changes to whether or not the broken object stands worthy of repair. So we decide. Sometimes others decide for us. Chains break and so do we.

***

The day my motorcycle will run has to be today, I tell myself while I stand over it. I think about the broken gear I just replaced and something else that has recently broken. One month has passed since that Tuesday in mid-August. We ate out that night at the end of a great day. We went to Café Rio, one of our favorite places to eat. She didn’t feel well so she spent most our time there in the bathroom. She came out. I packed up our food and we left. This Tuesday didn’t go like the others we had spent together. She lay there on the car seat attempting to calm her aching stomach. I hurt seeing someone for whom I cared so deeply in this much pain. The hours we had spent together building this chain made her pain mine. I felt a deep desire to make everything better for her. As I lay near her trying to stay quiet, she slept. We had started dating almost exactly five months prior. High school sweethearts they called us.

She woke up and curled into a ball next to me, her favorite place. Tears and sobs began to leave her body. She said five words during the next thirty minutes, “I can’t do it.”  Do what? I thought about those five words over and over. What did I do? What did she do? Is it her family again? I don’t know if I can keep doing this. She drove me home with a silence so thick the crickets feared to make noise. We arrived and the crying started again. She assumed her position next to me. “It’s over,” she said. I felt something snap inside of me while her words ripped my heart to shreds. It’s over. The chain broke in front of my eyes. My tears made it hard to see her. Each painful word we spoke after that ensured that the bike never got fixed. All of our dreams and plans together shattered like glass in that moment. I left her car with the broken pieces of our relationship that we had agreed to throw away. This chain needed to break, according to her.

I bought this broken motorcycle in a moment of recklessness. My heart and the timing gear had broken so the motorcycle just needed a replacement gear and I needed healing to get the motorcycle, and my life, running. I had spent the entire weekend working on it. The learning curve’s steep slope hadn’t ruined my zeal to finish it quickly. Today marks the day that I find out if it runs.

The excitement builds as I grip the rubber on the handlebars and slowly reach for the metal bar that disengages the clutch. I squeeze the familiar cold bar that hasn’t warmed up in the fall air. The bike’s resistance to my pushes and pulls makes it clear that I have little control over it, as I struggle to keep it upright on my own. I have spent hours working, planning, thinking and dreaming of this moment, just like I had for another moment that will never happen. My right thumb reaches down as I hold the bike steady and pushes the bright yellow starter button. The familiar whir of the starter moving its gears begins. I hear the starting gear colliding with the crankshaft, getting its teeth aligned so it can begin the necessary motion. It should be starting now. Nothing. I try again. Really? Nothing. Come on. I run a diagnostic in my head. The battery has a charge? Yup. The wires have connections? Yup. The tank has fuel? Yes. I tighten my grip as the stress mounts. I push the yellow button more forcefully this time. Then it happens. Pop. Bang. Clang, clang, clank. I hear something break this time. Broken chain? Yup. Broken bike? Yup. Broken heart? Yup. Worthy of repair? Definitely.  

A Beaten Path

How hard could it be to walk away from something and never look back?

I'll tell you. Imagine sitting down at a table. You haven't eaten in what feels like years and someone places your favorite food in front of you. However, there is a catch. The last time you ate this food it made you violently ill. But it's still your favorite food. You still want to eat it and feel the joy that it once offered you. You take that bite and you quickly remember that it made you ill because you are allergic to it. Your main source of happiness, your joy and comfort has now become a poison to your body. You can no longer eat this food without suffering extremely painful consequences. Consequences that are often too much to handle. But, but, the sweet feeling of that food coming to your mouth, the sweet wonderful smell filling your nostrils, the saliva coming and awaiting the treasure. What happened? All you find is pain. You wonder what went wrong. You wonder what you could have done. You look back confused. You want to make amends. You want that food back in your life. How could you live without it?

We, along with many other things, were not designed to forget easily. A tree trunk does not forget the knife that carved letters into it. A car engine does not forget its constant need to be nourished. A damaged heart does not heal quickly. Memories live on, requirements still need to be met, and scars take time. Somethings will never go away, while some will lose themselves. A beaten path does not quickly lose itself.

I like the beaten path the best for this. The beaten path is there because someone found it useful. The path offered a way to an end. It wasn't necessarily the best path, it wasn't perfect, but that path was good enough for someone. That path was forged by those who walked it. Once a path has been deemed useless, the brush starts to grow back around it, the weeds come and cover what it once was. And so it is with saying goodbye. It is not that the path is no longer there, it is not that the hikers are no longer there. It is that the path is no longer useful. It is that the hikers decided to take a different route. It is that the hiker might have had to go home. It happens. It is life.

Better, eh?

You know, when I got back from my mission I wanted this blog to be a way that I could show the world that my mission had made me a better person. I wanted show that I was much more capable after my mission than I was before. Because that' how it works right? You go out on a mission and serve your time and when you get back all your imperfections are fixed, all your weaknesses are your strengths, you know the scriptures inside and out, your ability to do missionary work is above and beyond what it used to be. These sound pretty ridiculous to me now but not too long ago that's how I saw things. I saw them in a very imperfect manner.

I got back from my mission, in my opinion, more broke than I had left. I felt more like a tree that had grown due to the adversity caused by the strong winds. However with my growth come the equal if not exponential increase in that of the wind. I felt that my world had come crashing in on me during me mission. There are still days that I still feel that way. On my mission I was diagnosed with MDD or clinical depression. You know, the depression that makes it hard to leave your bed in the morning. The depression that feels like a bucket of ice cold water to end your shower. It's the kind of thing that you don't feel comfortable admitting. And I am no exception.

When I was first diagnosed I walked around in denial for a while. How could this be? But then I remembered the months and years I had contemplated that I had it. Things were starting to make more sense. Unfortunately that didn't help. As a student I'm used to the way that the more understanding you gain about a problem the easier it becomes to solve it. Well, for a while there the more I understood about the depression the worse it made me feel. I grew angry and even bitter at the Lord asking how He expected me to live my life with this. It didn't make sense. My whole world seemed to crash around me.

One of the things that I learned early on is the way that depression makes it feel like the relationships you have have not developed. It makes years of friendships feel like encounters on the morning train. This was absolutely devastating to me. I was in a foreign country and I felt all alone. I felt that I had no true friends. And the way I saw things it looked that way too.

Anyway, I came home and hoped that things would get better. That I would understand it better, that I would be better able to cope with it, and that my meds would lessen the severity. It didn't seem that way. For a while there I felt that I had lost so much ground. I could see the obvious growth that had happened but at that moment it felt non-existent. I felt that I had taken two steps forward and ten steps back. That's the reason for the title of this post. I don't always feel that I am doing better. I'm lucky to be feeling good about anything, let alone personal progress. I have however gained a deeper faith in the Lord and His power to guide us through the darkness. He has a plan for each of us.

My Home

I wrote this article for my French class a couple of weeks ago and thought that I'd share it on my almost-invisible blog. So here it is :)

My Home

            My home is not a house. My home is not like the rest of the world. It is not just a small place but it is all at once. It is a place where you bathe in cold water if there isn’t any more propane. It is a place where we watch the ocean from the living room while we sit on plastic chairs breathing the air pushed by the fan. It is a place where we do not ask a lot of questions and we don’t talk a lot. It is hard to know what to say because this place is perfect.

            The cold water shower is the coldest touch of the day. It is hot here. Every day you hear the complaints of people who tell you that it is too hot. But the heat is normal. She is like a constant friend who tells you that life continues. We feel her on our faces. We tell ourselves that we are going to be fried. It’s too bad that it’s true. But we know that everything will be okay. This heat takes you in her arms and makes you feel of her love, a love from the sun all with a feeling of peace. It is an outside peace, unlike that which we feel inside of ourselves. Fortunately, the heat is perfect.

            The ocean never looks at us. But she can but tell us that she is living and that she has something to teach us. She teaches us that there are forces around us larger than we are. We watch her. She comes; she leaves; and she moves. She is not pressed for time, nor occupied. She moves because it is necessary. But you will never move her. She is constant and happy. We smell her scent from afar and we hear her song of peace all day long. We can only feel comfortable next to her. Her gentleness is incomparable. She is perfect.

            We move slowly on our bikes here. Not always because we want to, but because we don’t have a choice. The thick air impedes us from pedaling quicker. He tells us to calm down and does not allow us to hurry ourselves. The ocean salt that dances in the air enters in our nostrils and tells us that all is well. The scent fills us with joy. There is a feeling of being overwhelmed by this scent. But being overwhelmed does not scare us. It pushes us to find the true feelings in our heart, be it happiness or sorrow. Whatever these feelings are, we are going to feel them inside. We will know who we are on the inside. He opens our minds to this aspect of our lives. The salted air is perfect.

            However, you are not perfect. Being overwhelmed by your thoughts hurts you. Now you see your pain. You see the mistakes of the past. The smell of the salt pushes you to think more and more about your problems. The ocean who ignores you reminds you that life is not always beautiful. Your house becomes more alone and sad. The peace that you felt leaves you. It becomes a feeling of anguish.

            The speed of life here hurts you. You feel as though you are not moving quicker than the ocean. The ocean blue no longer helps you. You feel angry at every one. There is a sorrow that wasn’t there before. The ocean who was telling you to come forgets you. If there were more somber feelings in the world you feel ready to take them without a thought.

            Your heart is as cold as the shower. You no longer want this cold touch. But the heat burns you inside now. It is no longer the pain on your face that hurts you, rather it is the pain from inside. You no longer want to look at the ocean. When you see people you think “I would love to be happy but it is not so easy.” You lose yourself in your thoughts. You don’t know why. You believe that what you think is normal, that life is like that and that there is nothing that you can do. The pain overwhelms you. People see you all sad and they ask you why. You say nothing. You thought it was normal. Why aren’t you as happy as everyone around you? “Why can’t I smile like before?” You don’t know why.

            However you know this: that life is lived through a veil created by our own hands. The feelings that you feel in your home are made by you. The pain comes from inside the shadow of your veil. The ocean does not change but how you see her often changes. The air does not make you think about your problems. It is only you that can decide. That comes from you. It is not the cold shower that makes your heart so cold. That comes from your choices.

            At the end of the day my home is perfect. My place is filled with beauty and happiness. Unfortunately that is not enough to make you happy if you do not choose it. Happiness is a choice. Your place in the world pushes you, of course, but the ocean always makes waves. She continues with or without you. She is perfect, even the air, even the heat. But then, us, we are who we want to be.

However, it is much better in French so voila :)

 Chez Moi

            Chez moi n’est pas une maison. Chez moi n’est pas comme tout le monde. Il n’est pas qu’un petit endroit mais à la fois il l’est. C’est un endroit où tu te baignes à l’eau froide s’il n’y a plus de gaz. C’est un endroit où on regarde la mer de la salle de séjour pendant que l’on s’assied sur les chaises en plastique en respirant l’air poussé par le ventilateur. C’est un endroit où on ne demande pas beaucoup de questions et on ne parle pas beaucoup. C’est difficile de savoir quoi dire parce que cet endroit est parfait.

            La douche de l’eau froide est la touche la plus glacée de la journée. Ici il fait chaud. Tous les jours tu entends les cris des personnes qui te disent qu’il fait trop chaud. Mais la chaleur est normale. Elle est une amie constante qui te dit que la vie continue. On la ressent sur le visage. On se dit qu’on va se cramer. C’est dommage que ce soit vrai. Mais on sait que tout sera d’accord. Cette chaleur te prend dans ses bras et te fait ressentir son amour, un amour du soleil et un sentiment de paix. C’est une paix de dehors pas comme celle qu’on ressent dedans soi-même. Heureusement la chaleur est parfaite.

            La mer ne nous regarde jamais. Mais elle ne peut que nous dire qu’elle est vivante et qu’elle a quelque chose á nous dire. Elle nous dit qu’il y des forces autours de nous plus grandes que nous. On la regarde. Elle vient ; elle sort ; et elle bouge. Elle n’est pas pressée, ni chargée. Elle bouge parce qu’il faut. Mais tu ne la bougeras pas. Elle est constante et heureuse. On sent son odeur de loin et on entend sa chanson de paix toute la journée. On ne peut que ressentir à l’aise à côté d’elle. Sa douceur est incomparable. Elle est parfaite. 

            On bouge doucement sur nos vélos ici. Ce n’est pas toujours parce que l’on veut mais parce que l’on n’a pas de choix. Les airs épais nous empêchent de pédaler plus vite. Ils nous disent de nous calmer et ils ne nous laissent pas nous dépêcher.  Le sel de la mer qui danse dans les airs entre dans nos narines et nous dit que tout est bien. L’odeur nous remplit de bonheur. Il y a le sentiment d’être envahi par cette odeur. Mais le fait d’être envahi ne nous fait pas peur. Mais il nous pousse à trouver les vrais sentiments dans notre cœur, soit le bonheur, soit la tristesse. Quoi que ces sentiments soient on va les ressentir dedans. On va savoir qui on est dedans. Elle ouvre nos esprits à cet aspect de notre vie. Les airs avec le sel sont parfaits.

Malheureusement tu n’es pas parfait. Le fait d’être envahi par tes pensées te fait mal au cœur. Maintenant tu vois ta douleur. Tu vois les erreurs du passé. L’odeur du sel te pousse à penser plus et plus à tes problèmes. La mer qui t’ignore te rappelle que la vie n’est pas toujours en rose. Ta maison devient plus sombre et triste. La paix que tu as ressentie te laisse. Elle devient un sentiment d’angoisse.

 La vitesse de la vie ici te peine. Tu ressens de ne pas pouvoir bouger plus vite que la mer. Le bleu de la mer ne t’aide plus. Tu ressens fâché à tout le monde. Il y a un malheur qui n’était pas là avant. La mer qui te disait venir t’oublie. S’il y avait des sentiments plus sombres dans le monde tu ressens prêt à les ressentir sans hésitation.

 Ton cœur est aussi froid que ta douche. Tu ne veux plus de cette touche froide. Mais la chaleur te brule de dedans maintenant. C’est n’est plus la douleur sur ton visage qui te fait mal maintenant c’est cette douleur de dedans. Tu ne veux plus regarder la mer. Quand tu vois les gens tu penses, « J’aimerais bien être content, mais ce n’est pas si facile. » Tu te perds dans tes pensées. Tu ne sais pas pourquoi. Tu crois que ce que tu penses est normal, que la vie est comme cela et il n’y a rien que tu peux faire. La douleur t’envahi. Les gens te voient tout triste et ils te demandent pourquoi. Tu ne dis rien. Tu ne sais pas. Tu as cru que c’était normal. Pourquoi tu n’es pas content comme tout le monde autour de toi. « Pourquoi je ne peux pas sourire comme avant. »  Tu ne sais pas pourquoi.

Cependant tu sais ceci : que la vie est vécue à travers un voile créé de tes propres mains. Les sentiments que tu ressens chez toi sont faits par toi. La douleur vient de dedans l’ombre de ton voile. La mer ne change pas mais comment tu la vois change souvent. Les airs ne te font pas penser à tes problèmes. Ce n’est que toi qui peux décider. Cela vient de toi-même. Ce n’est pas la douche froide qui a fait en sorte que ton cœur soit froid. Cela vient de tes choix.

A la fin chez moi est parfait. Mon endroit est remplit de beauté et de bonheur. Malheureusement cela n’est pas assez pour te faire heureux si tu ne le choisis pas. Le bonheur est un choix. Ton endroit dans le monde te pousse, bien sûr, mais la mer fait toujours des vagues. Elle continue sans et avec toi. Elle est parfaite, même les airs, même la chaleur. Mais alors, nous, nous sommes qui nous voulons. 

Call Me Old Fashioned, I Prefer It That Way

Hello, this blog post has been years in the making, ever since the use of cell phones went global. And especially the use of texting.

 I grew up in an age where we were told to never ask a girl on a date over text. The most part of girls that I knew would agree and testify that it is not "cool" or acceptable to ask a girl out over a text. I firmly agree. I hate to say that I have done it once in my years of dating. This is a rule that comes from common courtesy and chivalry. Some of us old fashion type people like the idea of opening the door for a woman or giving a woman the man's coat when the weather turns bad. It is something that should not be lost. For if it is lost then we have forgotten how our parents taught us to respect one another.

Now, this goes both ways. The woman is expected to wait as the man opens the door; she is expected to accept the coat of the man; and she is expected to not ask a man on a date over text. In brief, I believe that men and women should agree to live by these simple rules or even guidelines of common courtesy and chivalry.

I recently spoke with someone who explained that he had heard stories of people proposing over text. As if asking someone on a date through the air waves wasn't bad enough, it has escalated to the point where marriage is proposed over these same air waves. There is something wrong in our society.

So this is my idea, let me prove why this is a bad idea. Let's take the example of breaking up over text. Since I have returned from my mission I have found myself in that strange swimming pool of dating. Some people seem to tread the water quite easily and make it the marriage pool rather effortlessly. And some have a really hard time swimming in this pool. I find myself in the latter having never had a real relationship. But not looking at my inexperience to dating I have learned certain things about it.

One of them is the difficulty and complication of breaking up or as others would call it, "being friend zoned." There are many reasons to break up with someone but they all boil down to the simple idea that a future with this person will not be a good thing for both parties. This act of breaking up is very delicate. It must be handled with extreme care as to not crush and shatter the break-up-e or the one who is receiving the decided end to the relationship. And as such, it becomes impossible to treat this matter in the simple form of a text. This is like a doctor attempting surgery over Skype. "Nurse, hand me a scalpel." "Doctor, I can't. You aren't even here." Let me explain.

I asked some of my friends to send me some break-up texts and this is what I received.

Dear Brandon. I hate your stinkin guts. You make me vomit. You're like scum between my toes. No Love, court

Hey brandon I hope you are doing well. You know what I've been thinking a lot about us, & I just feel like you would want me to be honest with you. When I think about us going long term, I don't feel right about it. I mean you are wonderful and I love being around you, but I don't think we are the most compatible for each other. I don't want to lead you on with feelings that I don't have. I'm sorry, but I think we should just be friends. 

Hey, Brandon. You are such a great guy, but I don't think that this is going to work out. I hope that life works out great for you without me in it. Goodbye. 

Oh Brandon please don't ask me that again. I'm just not interested in dating anybody right now. You're a great guy and I love being friends...but I'm not ready to date. Please try to understand. I don't want to hurt you. You mean a lot to me and always will.

Hey Brandon, I just wanted to thank you for all the fun things we have done together. You're like a brother to me. But I have decided that I'm not interested in pursuing a relationship . It doesn t have anything to do with you, but please understand I really admire you. see you around!

Hey, so I know this is kinda hard, so I thought maybe it would be better to tell you after our date. But I'm feeling like I need to move forward with other people. I hope you understand. Good luck with life. I hope you the best! 

Hey I've had a lot of fun hanging out with you but I don't see this going anywhere romantically. I think we need to not go an any more dates. But I'd love to stay friends. 

Dearest Brandon, 

The time is come for me to go north and for you to go south. Actually the other way around, because I'm at BYU and you're at USU. I'm the kind of girl who just doesn't like long distance relationships. Also, I think French is terrible. But you're a good person. Just not good enough for me. 

No love,

Natalia

Hey Brandon, I know we had a date set up for this weekend but I just want to be clear that I don't like you in that way.....sorry.....we don't have to go out if you don't want. I just wanted to let you know.....

You are a fantastic person and I'm so glad I got to spend time with you but I think it would be best if we see other people. You have helped me see so many qualities that I want in my future spouse and I hope in return I have showed you the same. That's what so cool about dating that we get to learn from all these different people and eventually find that one person that completes us. I hope that one day you will find that person that completes you.

ok listen Brandon, That was the worst date I've ever been on. I'm just really upset you seemed like such a great guy, and then when I met you all my expectations were really let down. you were so disrespectful and so rude. I think it's best you never talk to me again and I'll do the same  thanks bye 

Brandon, 

This has been a long time in coming, but I think it's time I tell you how I truly feel. We've been through a lot together. I mean these past two weeks have been like no other. But I'm going to have to break up with you. Don't worry- it's not you. It's me. I think I've found the one, and I'm sorry it can't be you. I guess what I'm trying to say is goodbye. 

I must say that they did a great job. A lot of these could be used in various parts of the dating timeline. But, let me show you why these don't work. Let's take the second one down. It is one of the longest. If one reads it out loud it should only take about 25 seconds and that would be quick. That is enough time to cook an egg in the microwave. But is it enough time to have a decent conversation with another human being? Is it enough time to sever emotional ties that have been built with time and care? Actually yes, it is. But it depends on one's tactic and taste. If one has a taste for quick break-ups one could compare them to dynamite in building demolition. It only takes dynamite 15 seconds to destroy what had taken years to build. 

If one has a taste for much gentler break-ups we could compare them to a parachute in skydiving. I was going to add a video but they are much too long to put into a blog post. So I settled for base jumping.

These two tactics for getting something or someone to the ground are extremely different. The first is quite sudden and violent. The latter is much slower and gentler. But they both have the same effect. 

Both the building and the people make it to the ground. They make it to their final destination. Ground zero. As is the same for a break-up. To stop construction on feelings and dreams with a person and to ultimately have those things done away with. Thus bringing both parties to ground zero to start looking for a new place to build or begin hiking. The question is which do you prefer? 

I have a taste for gentle break-ups (never done it, but still). Where I can talk to the person and we can explain what we think and feel. That is why you can call me old fashioned. Because I do not believe in breaking up over a text. Because I believe in holding a door open, when appropriate, for a woman. I believe that chivalry and common courtesy should not die. I will not hold a person's taste against them. But I will state what I believe. And because it is what I believe I intend to live it. 

Thank you all for reading,

Brando

p.s. A big thanks to those who sent these break-up texts!

A Mother's Prayer

Hello everybody!

It's good to be back and bloggin' again. Today's post is a thought that has grown on me these last few days and which has ultimately culminated to this idea: A Mother's Prayer.

It begins with understanding love. Love as defined as a feeling of deep care or concern for another (disregarding any crazy Hollywood definition). Love is a feeling that fills our souls (body and spirit) with a wonderful amount of joy and otherwise good endorphins. This love is known to bring peace to the soul, healing to wounds (both seen and unseen). It is a power that can change the world and can change the heart. I personally believe that the latter has a more precious value. Because a changed heart will change the world.

How does this love occur? It occurs when someone of their own free will chooses to love you. This person makes this decision regardless of who you are. Regardless of your faults, your defaults, your habits, your ticks, etc. Because of this love they will do what they see best for you. Sometimes even disregarding their own needs to serve you. The best thing about this love is that: They Choose to Love You. That would be my post title but that is not the end of this post.

There are many levels of love. I do not plan on describing all of these levels. The one that I want to focus on is the love of a mother. A mother will do anything for their children. A mother chooses to carry us into the world. Now we live in a world that would teach us that motherhood has little or no importance. However I still believe firmly in the importance of parents. I was blessed to have a mother and father (and many others) who cared about the way I was raised. A mother who loves her children is an incredible force to the world.

How can a mother help raise her children? It's hard enough to have to raise four children, let alone four children on your own. What can you do? What would you do? Having to support the family, run the family, raise the kids, and do everything that a family has to do. All this pressure for one person suffering human syndrome would be overwhelming and could seem impossible. I know when things seem impossible that I pray. I know that asking God helps. So what does my mother do?

I don't really know. But I imagine. And this is what I imagine. A young woman recently married praying in her heart that she will be able to raise her children well and to raise them in the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. Then as her world falls apart and she has to take responsibility for her family she prays even harder that this will work out. She puts her whole heart and soul into her trust to Someone that she has never seen. Whose voice she has only heard and Whom she knows will help her no matter what. She gives it all to Him.

So what happens next? She gets off her knees and goes to work. She deals with the difficulties of raising children. The fights, the heart breaks, the joys and everything in-between. And how does she survive? She puts all her doubts and concerns on pause because she has asked the Lord to help everything turn out all right. Acting, trusting, and loving. That is how she did it.

So she raised four children. The last one receiving the full weight of these stresses. The youngest being the one who lives through it all for the longest time. And how does the youngest feel? The youngest feels incredibly lucky. He has learned and witnessed this incredible love of a mother putting her full trust in her prayers and thus in the Lord. He has felt the power of her prayers. The prayers that protected him while she was away. The prayers that allowed him to take the stands that he would need in order to become the person that she would want him to be. These are the prayers that changed my heart. The prayers that make me love my mom so much. This is a tribute to you and to all the great mother's out there who put or will put their whole hearts into trusting the Lord and loving their children.

I know you love me Mom, no matter what. And I love you too, no matter what!

Brandon

Goodbye And Hello

Hey everyone. I don't have a lot of time. And since I'll be seeing you all soon I'm not too worried about it.

But I want to let you all know that I'm done. I've done my two years. Thanks for all of your emails and support. I love you all.

I know this Church is true. I will keep serving even after this is over.

See you all soon,

Love,

Elder Squires