The Inevitable

     When I wrote this short story, back in 1972, I used a lot of my experiences and memories.
The ending is one of the logical outcomes that I envisioned for myself.

The Inevitable

     At seven o'clock, the LDS Hospital nurse tells the couple they can go in.

     Darrell, maybe 27 years old and about six feet tall, is a husky construction worker whose firm powerful hands, tanned to a smooth brown during long hours working under the sun, tightly holds his wife’s small, delicate hand.

     As they pass the nurses counter, the young mother of three quietly murmurs, "Why?"

     Shelley, who has dark brown hair that is set in large sagging curls, normally has a smile and sweet words for everyone. Today she’s just somber.

     Looking up at Darrell, her watery blue eyes meet his.

     Approaching room 309, they hesitate, glance at each other and then push open the large, wooden door and enter.

     The small room has a large, metal-framed bed in the middle. To the left, the August sun shines through a narrow oblong window as the wind whips a lose screen against the pane.

     The walls are a barren white. There’s a half-empty cup of water and a water pitcher on a small table to the left of the bed. White sheets cover all but the face and arm of the young man lying quietly in the large bed.

     As the couple enters, the young man smiles and, for a moment, he seems well – except for his chalk-white face.

     "It's about time. I was beginning to wonder," Mike Norton says in greeting his visitors.

     "The nurse wouldn't let us in," Darrell answers.

     "She sure is good looking," Mike says. I asked her to marry me and my wooden leg when I get out of here."

     "What . . . what did she say," Darrell hesitantly asks.

     "What they all say when I'm joking – sure," Mike laughs.

     He must have laughed too hard because he begins coughing.

     Catching his breath for a moment, "Those white blood cells are really battling." Then he coughs again and again.

     Darrell and Shelley move closer. Mike reaches out and grabs Darrell’s hand, and Darrell holds tight.

     Mike, Darrell's younger brother, is short and was once a little chubby with fleshy cheeks that made him look a lot like a chipmunk. Now, his cheeks are gaunt and pale. His hazel eyes, though circled by storm clouds, still have a sparkle.

     Mike has lost ten pounds since entering the hospital three days earlier. He mentions it to his brother, then adds: "When I was in the hospital back in ‘70, I lost about 25 pounds – in two hours!" As he speaks, he pats the empty space where his left leg should have been.

     Mike looks at his sister-in-law, and Shelley forces a smile.

     Forty-five minutes slowly pass, punctuated by long stretches of silence, as they chat about the past – mostly about Mike and Darrell’s hunting trips with their father.

     When Patricia, Mike’s young blonde nurse, enters carrying a syringe, Mike moans: "Not again!"

     "Again," Patricia says. "Where this time?"

     Mike points to his right thigh.

     As Patricia moves closer, he adds, "I bet it's morphine. I'll be a drug addict when I get out of here."

     Patricia says nothing as she drives the needle into Mike’s thigh, injects the drug, removes the syringe and quickly leaves the room.

     Five minutes later, the drug begins its work.

     "Just what I need, sleep! Here we have a few minutes, Mike says, and I can't keep my eyes open."

     "Go ahead and sleep. We'll stay as long as we can," Shelley says.

     Darrell, now sitting in a chair up close to Mike’s bed, holds tight to Mike's hand as his little brother seems to sleep. Darrell and Shelley exchange glances as Shelley takes a seat in the corner of the room.

     "I can't believe it," Mike thinks, "Why me? Where -- how did it begin? Remember . . . .

     "President, got a minute?” Mike asks as he leans on the door frame leading into President Smith’s mission office in San Jose, Costa Rica.

      “Sure,” President Smith answers as he beckons Elder Norton into his office.

     “It's my leg,” Mike tells his mission president. It isn't any better. I can hardly stand on it. Do you think I should go see a doctor? I’m thinking it might be a re-injury to my knee that I banged up in a snow-tubing accident about three years ago.”

     “Maybe you ought to, Elder. You’ve been hobbling around for way too long. Go see a doctor as soon as you can get an appointment. You need to get back to your missionary work."

     "July 7, 1970, was the first operation," Mike remembers.

     "You'll be out of here in a couple of days," encourages Dr. Steinworth, Mike's Costa Rican German doctor. Dr. Steinworth received his medical degrees in the United States before setting up his practice as a bone specialist in his native San Jose.

     "I'll never figure out what made me go to a bone doctor,” Mike half thinks, half dreams. “Usually any doctor would have been all right.”

     For a moment, Mike’s back in his LDS Hospital room with Darrell and Shelley where all that breaks the silence is the beeping monitor behind Mike’s head – that, and an occasional slight bang as the loose screen slaps against the window pane.

     Through the still, Darrell keeps a firm grip on Mike's hand.

     Quickly, Mike’s mind is back in Costa Rica and the memories of his last two months there in San Jose.

     "'Oh it hurts –I can't stand it,” Mike remembers himself yelling at one point in his post-surgery “recovery.”

     “You won't believe it,” he recalls writing in his diary. “I stayed in the hospital for a week after the first operation when they removed a broken cartilage – from that tubing accident – and three weeks later, July 29, I was back in again. What luck!

     “Elder Galan, my companion at the time, got a call and needed to go meet someone downtown. I didn't want him to go alone, so I limped along leaning on a cane. My hand went numb.

      “After getting off the bus at the downtown plaza, we had to cross a street, which was maybe 30 yards wide. The light was in our favor, but it also favored the guy in the Jeep Land Rover, who sped around the corner, heading straight at us. Elder Galan jumped out of the way, but when I tried, I twisted up my bad left leg. I ended up with my hands on the front of the Rover. The pain in my knee shot through me, and I began to fall apart. The driver of the Rover took me to the hospital – all the while listing to me moaning and crying like a baby. It was the worst pain I think I've ever experienced. Finally after arriving at the hospital and waiting what seemed like hours, someone gave me a pain injection and it quickly began to do its job. Then, after rolling me all over the corridors in a wheelchair, I ended up on the X-ray table."

     "My old friend the X-ray table," Mike says, startling Darrell.

     "What about the X-ray table," Darrell asks.

     "Ah, nothing,” Mike mumbles. “I was just thinking." Mike quickly falls back into his memories.

     "Dr. Steinworth finally came, and I just held tight to his arm. Three days later, they released me and I spent a week laying around at Dona Marta’s home. What a nice lady – fed me in bed."

     "That was the last entry I made in my missionary journal," Mike recalls.

     "You'll have to leave now," Patricia tells Mike’s visitors as she enters with a new pitcher of ice water.

     "He's sleeping," Darrell quietly tells the nurse.

     "You better leave. You should be able to see him tomorrow," Patricia suggests.

     Darrell releases his grip for the first time and quietly walks out with Shelley. Patricia sets the ice water pitcher on the tray next to Mike's bed. She then notices him looking up at her.

     "You weren't asleep," she asks, already knowing the answer.

     She stands at his side with her fingers curled around the bed rail, pausing for a moment in thought.

     "When did you know you had cancer," her eyes ask? But without asking or getting an answer, she turns and walks out.

     "When was it," Mike asks himself. "The third time I went into the hospital in San Jose – or was it later?"

     Mike remembers Dr. Steinworth saying, "I think it's either infection or some form of cancer — benign or malignant. You'll have to be admitted today so we can find out for sure.”

     Mike beckons back the memory and even the date, Aug. 22, 1970, when President Smith and Dr. Steinworth came into his San Jose hospital room. It was three days after the exploratory surgery to determine whether the cancer was malignant. From the look on their faces, it wasn’t Christmastime.

     “We're going to fly you home tomorrow so the doctors in Salt Lake can take care of you,” President Smith told Mike. The next day he was headed home.

     “Let me remove those two arm rests between the seats so you can stretch out," said the slender airline hostess with a permanent smile as Mike hobbled down the aisle aboard the airliner that took him on the second leg of the trip – from Miami to Chicago – of a 12-hour flight from San Jose to Salt Lake City.

     "The moment I really knew and accepted that it was cancer was in Dr. Olsen’s Salt Lake office. The date was the 28th of August."

     "'We'll have to remove your leg above the knee," Dr. Olsen explained to Mike. We want to make sure we get it all.”

     “I cried, I really cried then,” Mike remembers – but mostly when no one was around.

     “All the crying stopped,” Mike recalls, “after the conversation I had with the Lord the night before the amputation. About 11:30 p.m., the hospital was resting, the room was dark and no one could hear as I began a prayer – a vocal prayer. Across the room was an old man who was snoring up a storm and who really couldn’t hear anything if he had been awake.

     “I talked with my Lord: 'I don't know why this is all happening to me, Father, I'm really not worrying about that. But I need help — I really need it. I can't hack it alone. This thing I can't do myself. I love playing basketball and dancing and hiking.’

     "What will I do? I want to be normal. I want to love. I want to find a girl that loves me. I can't die, yet, I haven't married yet. I've really had a great life, but I’m only 20 years old and, Lord, I want to do more. I need thy help – I need it.’

     "I had never felt anything so strong as I did after that prayer," Mike remembers. “I was given an answer – and the strength to go on.

     “Whether I lived a long full life or not didn’t matter as much as knowing that there is a loving Father in Heaven and life after this one. I knew I would be whole once again – and maybe even be able to play some basketball there.”

     "September 1, 1970, I was wheeled back into my hospital room – one leg less," Mike thought back. For a few days I was really sick, and then everything went much smoother. The doctors and nurses even got mad at me for being so jovial."

     The next milestone came a few weeks after being released from the hospital following the amputation: "Look, I've got my new leg!” Mike announced to his family after returning from Intermountain Limb and Brace Co.

     “I'll dance again,' he added. It was the sixth day of the first month of the New Year.

     “Are you going back to school?” asked a friend soon after Mike began using canes instead of crutches with his artificial leg.

     “I'll start in about two weeks – January 20th, to be exact," Mike boasted.

     Mike, torn away from his memories and back into the present, coughs uncontrollably. As he reaches for the buzzer, he wheezes in a breath. The room is dark except for the light from a small lamp to the right of his bed.

     “Four years of college in three years. Not bad for a guy who can only cough and wheeze now," Mike says as Patricia comes in.

     "Here, let me help you," she says, wiping his chin.

     Mike coughs again, and she wipes his chin again.

     "On a scale of one to 10," she asks him?

     He mumbles: “Nine point five.”

     Finally, the coughing eases and Mike relaxes. "Why did it come back after the amputation?" Mike asks himself.

     Opening his water-glazed eyes, he looks at the blood serum dripping from a clear plastic bag into the plastic, narrow tube that leads to his arm. His heavy eyelids involuntarily close.

     "I wonder what its like?"

     Mike imagines his weary eyes opening again, "What time is it," he faintly asks?

     He doesn't hear the reply – he’s off again into the past.

     "I remember the time I scored 26 points playing on our church basketball team. What moves I had!"

     Tears slowly form at the corner of his eyes, then roll down his cheeks.

     "Lord!"

     Mike, for the first time, becomes conscious of the slow thump of his heart.

     "Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump."

     "Everything is all right," he says to himself.

     His listless eyes open slightly. There are people standing next to his bed, but who are they?

     "Hi," he tries to say. Nothing comes out but a soft moan.

     All he can hear is his heart:

     "Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha- . . . .

W. Lee Hunt, Aug. 23, 20122: As part of the assignment to write a fictional story for my college English class, I had to write a critique of the story as well.
Not only is it interesting to read this fictional version of my cancer ordeal forty years after the fact, but even more so to read my own critique of the story.

Critique of “The Inevitable”
December of 1972
The goal in writing this short story was to help others better understand how I feel when I think about my life and about death.
The story was written to convey an emotion, possibly mixed emotions. What emotion? It’s hard to explain, but not so hard to write about it and let others explain to me.
It was written to tell my story. Of course the ending is fictitious but is still the most important part of the story.
There are three reasons why I had Mike die at the end:
First: I didn't want to do the story in a strict chronological order – from the beginning to his death – but to start at his death bed and go back to the be¬ginning, then return to his death bed, then go back into the past again, and again return to the death bed until the past was the present. I felt that the death bed could be the best revolving door to the time changes. I felt this part was a strong point of my story: the time changes.
Having the death bed as the revolving door to the time changes allowed me to remind the reader that Mike was dying as the reader examined the past events in Mike’s life, thus giving them the ability to see what was happening while knowing the end result.
Secondly: Having him die allowed the reader to see the past in the eyes of death. I accomplished this goal quite adequately.
Thirdly, I felt that it would mean more to the story if the young, returned missionary died – a note of irony to show his faith when, that which killed him, he received on his mission.
The story could have been written in first person, but too many things that I wanted to do would have been lost. The most important difference would be that if it was written in first person, the reader would be less sympathetic toward the writer who was telling his own sad story. In third person, I was able to step one step back and tell the story -- allowing the reader to be more sympathetic toward the main character.
The story written in third person allowed the reader to see more of the actions of those around him and outside of the room and even look at himself.
Writing in the omniscient form as pertaining to the main character, allowed the writer to do two things:
First, go back in the past through Mike’s present thinking, seeing what he thought and what had happened. I felt I accomplished what I wanted in this area.
Secondly, the goal of showing the feelings and emotions could really come out when the readers could read for themselves what Mike was thinking.
There were two conflicts: conflict between life and death, and conflict between ideal of the young man living out a good and happy life and his dying – or reality.
I feel I was successful in what I wanted to accomplish in this story.

Celebrating Family and Gospel Ordinances

I’m sure you’ve heard the paraphrase from Jesus that goes: “I didn’t say it would be easy, but I said it would be worth it!"

That’s the thought that’s been running through my mind after a whirlwind week of driving, family gatherings and church ceremonies.

In just eight days, we’ve experienced one Melchizedek Priesthood ordination, one baptism, one confirmation, three family endowments – two of them our sons – and a sealing of one son to his wife and baby. Plus just a month ago, we were part of another Melchizedek Priesthood ordination and a baby blessing. It’s been a long journey for all of us.

But I think the story really starts almost exactly a year ago. That’s when Nancy and I moved out of our apartment in Sandy when we just didn’t have the money to stay there.

We were in the process of applying for Social Security Disability and had no idea how long it would take, so we decided to store our furniture and accept Bruce Westwood’s invitation to visit and stay with them at their home in Carthage, Missouri. (Bruce is Nancy’s brother). He’s the bishop of the Webb City Ward in southwest Missouri.

On May 22, 2011, just a couple of weeks after we arrived, a F-5 tornado ripped through the neighboring city of Joplin, killing more than 150 people and destroying hundreds of homes, many businesses and even our stake center. (For more details, see the blog I was asked to do about the tornado and the rebuilding of our stake center at Joplinstakecenter.blogspot.com).

For the next several weeks, Nancy helped Bruce with cleanup efforts for the church and for him personally. Three of his apartment buildings were severally damaged. I helped Bruce on his online Westwoods Cabinet Hardware business. (Underlined blue phrases are links I've added that provide additional information and details.) The longer we stayed, the more we felt we had found a new home. Then we were surprised when our appeal for Social Security Disability was approved relatively quickly. That’s when we found we could actually buy a home in the area for less than we could rent back in Salt Lake area of Utah or even down in St. George, Utah, near my daughter’s family in Fredonia, Arizona. So we found a very nice three bedroom home in Oronogo and moved in.

Virtually the same weekend, Jason and his bride, Hannah, had transferred to Kansas City, Missouri, which is two hours north of us, and Jared and his new bride, Heidi, with her two daughters, had transferred to Tulsa, Oklahoma, which is an hour and a half west of us. Just a month ago, Nathan, our youngest son, transferred to Fayetteville, Arkansas, which is an hour and a half south of us. So Nancy and I and the three boys left Utah for our new lives here and within a couple hours' drive.

Jason’s ward greeted him and his bride with open arms! Hannah was called to serve as the Primary president in the ward, and Jason worked toward taking Hannah to the temple. Just after their son, Justin, was born, I was thrilled to be summoned up there to confer the Melchizedek Priesthood onto Jason Lee Hunt, and a couple weeks later, I stood in the circle as Jason gave Justin his name and a blessing. What a great experience! But that was a prelude to the week we just completed.

On Wednesday, May 2, Nancy and I drove to Jared and Heidi’s home in Tulsa. Already there were Heidi’s parents, Cindy and Jerald Boyd; her sister, Brittany; brother, Jordan, and her aunt, Cindy’s sister, Anne. Of course, Heidi’s girls, Kate and Annie, were there. Also present was one of Jared’s new friends, Bart Ball, a member of the stake high council who lives in Jared’s ward.

I was a little surprised at how Jared handled the situation, but I was very impressed. He first thanked everyone for coming, then read a scripture from the Book of Mormon pertaining to his change of heart, and then bore his testimony. That was way cool! Something that I had never heard but one I had hoped I would live to experience.

Jared’s testimony led us into the next step as I laid my hands upon his head. Joining me in the circle were Jerald, Jordan and Brother Ball. I then conferred the Melchizedek Priesthood onto Jared and ordained him an Elder in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

It had been a long journey for Jared to find himself.

Heidi’s family has been a great help in bringing him along, but I think his transfer to Tulsa and his ward in Broken Arrow had been instrumental in his transformation. His new friends’ strong examples have been extremely important.

Jared’s ordination was a major milestone in his life, but there’s more….

On Saturday, May 5th, Jared baptized Heidi’s daughter, Kate, and I served as a witness, along with Jordan, Heidi’s brother who just got back from his mission about six months ago. Lucky Jordan was there as a witness: He caught a one word mistake that I didn’t notice. Jared corrected it and then completed Kate’s baptism. Her grandfather, Jerald, confirmed her and bestowed the Gift of the Holy Ghost on her. I said the closing prayer.

Jared has been a great father to Kate and Annie, but they have kept Shea Potter, the girls’ father, closely in the lope.

Also, I need to mention that Brittany and Jordan gave great talks on Baptism and the Gift of the Holy Ghost, respectively, at Kate’s baptism and confirmation, which was really special for Kate. They both did excellent.

Then on Monday, May 7th, the whole family went with Jared and Heidi to her doctor’s appointment where they found out Heidi and Jared are expecting – drum roll – a girl. Most of us felt the baby was going to be a boy because of how Heidi’s pregnancy has been so different from her other two. There were so many of us in the doctor’s waiting room that I’m sure they thought we were a pretty strange group, but I’m so glad Jared and Heidi invited us all to be part of the experience!

Later that afternoon, Nancy and I drove to Oklahoma City and picked up Heather, my oldest child, and TJ, her baby, at the airport. Seeing her and the baby, TJ, was so fun. TJ looks and acts so much like Breanna, but he’s all Ty’s son. We got to spend almost four days with TJ, who is almost a year old. The last time we were with them, he was a newborn.

Soon after we arrived at our hotel from the airport, Lena, Leif and their boys arrived. They had driven from Fredonia, Arizona, to be with us for the coming several days. The boys were so excited and hyper! JJ, the baby, is about 16 months old and almost as big as Caleb. The last time we had seen JJ, we were in Fredonia for his baby blessing. Jakob is seven years old and turning eight in August. The first thing I noticed was his two missing front teeth, plus how tall he is getting. Caleb is such a handful – but so sensitive! Love them all! Leif is such a good husband – and so good to drive them all the way out here – just before he has to go to nursing school in southern Arizona.

The following day, May 8, all the adults headed to the Oklahoma City Temple for a very special morning endowment session: Jared was going through for the first time. Many family members were there: Nancy, me, Heather, Lena, Leif, Jared, Heidi, Cindy, Jerald, Brittany, Jordan, Anne, Bruce and Chris Westwood, and Scott Westwood.

Nathan, Shea Potter, Jason and Hannah helped take care of all the kids back at the hotel.

I was Jared’s escort in the temple. We met with the temple president before the session, and he talked to Jared for a good 15 minutes. He also met with Jared for a few minutes after the endowment session. Being in the Celestial Room with so many of the family was really special, especially being able to embrace Jared as he came in – and then Heidi. There were a lot of tears and a lot of embracing in the brightest most beautiful of the temple rooms. We’re looking forward to the time when Jared and Heidi can be sealed – maybe in the same temple.

When everyone came out of the temple, we met up with all the rest of the family and kids and took pictures next to the temple. The Oklahoma Temple is one of the smaller ones in the church but very beautiful.

After pictures, the whole group followed Jared to a barbecue restaurant. There were six or seven tables of family enjoying dinner and conversations!

After dinner, we headed back to Missouri, dropping Heather off at the "Westwood B and B for Wayward Children." Jason, Hannah and baby Justin arrived at the Westwood B and B about the same time that Lena and her family arrived. We had a great time visiting for awhile there and then Nancy and I headed home, about 15 minutes away in Oronogo.

We found out the next day that Bruce, Scott and Chris stayed up with our kids until about 1 a.m. Bruce fell asleep in the chair, and Chris finally got him and Scott to bed. Our kids stayed up even longer visiting. What a special blessing that Bruce and Chris allowed them all to stay at their place and visit so much.

The next day, Wednesday, May 9, everyone who had stayed at Bruce’s home came over for lunch at our home. We had Heather and TJ; Lena and family; Jason and family; Nathan; Bruce, Chris and Scott. Karin and her family – Mike, Joseph and Makayla – came over, too. Trena, who’s been staying with us, had a lot of visitors that day!

We were able to set up tables under our huge backyard tree and enjoy the afternoon as the kids played on the lawn. TJ was fun to watch as he practiced standing up. Lena and Leif’s boys had a great time playing T-ball on the big lawn in back. It was a great family get-together.

Soon after, we headed to Kansas City for the next big adventure and spiritual feast!

We ended up staying at a Comfort Suites in Liberty, Missouri, about five minutes away from the Kansas City LDS Temple. The next morning, most of all the adults headed to the brand new Kansas City Missouri Temple, which is actually in Liberty, Missouri.

Here we were, staying at a beautiful new hotel in Liberty, the same city were Joseph Smith spent months holed up in jail while the Saints were being persecuted by Missourians. (Joseph Smith and five other brethren were held prisoner within its four-foot thick walls from 1 December 1838 until 6 April 1839.) The Saints were eventually driven out of their homes as part of Missouri's Gov. Lilburn W. Boggs infamous Mormon Extermination Order. Liberty was also the place were Joseph received some of the greatest revelations that are found in the Doctrine and Covenants. (D&C 121-123.) Now we were going to the Temple of the Lord in the city that for so many years has been a historical place of infamy in the church. The church has returned, and the temple will be a blessing to the city and area.

Living in Oronogo, we are part of the Kansas City Temple District.

I arrived early, and for half an hour I had time to sit in the temple and contemplate about all the happenings in our lives – especially those in the past few years – and the reason why I was there that day: Jason, my oldest son, and Hannah were going through for their own endowments and then would be sealed together for all time and eternity and Justin would then be sealed to them.

Looking back, I felt like I had for so many years been wandering in the wilderness, like the wayward children of Israel.

Most of that time, 20 years, was spent trying to create something special: Hunt Mysteries. There were so many great moments with Hunt Mysteries and so many struggles and sacrifices – especially family sacrifices. I think the family, and especially the boys suffered during those years. I finally sold Hunt Mysteries, took early retirement from Deseret News, and started to dig ourselves out of the pit.

Now, a year away from Utah and Hunt Mysteries, I was sitting in a Temple of the Lord in a land chosen of the Lord. I was even able to serve as a greeter on the first Saturday of the temple’s open house. What an incredible feeling to realize how far the church has come and that I was there in the Liberty temple.

As Jason’s escort, we visited with the temple president’s counselor and then went through the endowment session. When I walked into the Celestial Room, many of the family members were already in there, including Jared and Heidi, Bruce, Chris, Scott and Jim (who drove down from Iowa in the early morning hours), Karin, Mike, Heather, Lena, David and Michelle Lasiter (Hanah’s parents), Sarah (Hannah’s sister-in-law), and a few members from Jason’s ward, including the sister who had taught them the temple lessons. She was so happy for them! I made it over to Jason and gave him a big embrace (he was careful not to crack my ribs). Then Nancy came through and saw four of five of her children in the Celestial Room and she cried as she embraced first Jared, then Heidi and then Jason. Everyone embraced! Finally Jason escorted Hannah into the Celestial room and the embraces started all over again!

I didn’t see any of my ancestors in the temple that day, but I had the very strong impression that this is what it’s like on the other side of the veil when family comes home – and they are greeted by the rest of their family and ancestors on the other side. The feelings and emotions were amazing and binding!

As I sat there and everyone was trying to keep their conversations as whispers, I thought how this was a beginning for Jared and Heidi and for Jason and Hannah. Now comes the part about enduring to the end. But I have come to realize more and more that that doesn’t mean coasting – it means being converted to the lifestyle of the Gospel and to the covenants we make in the temple.

A few minutes later we all gathered together in the largest of the three sealing rooms in the Kansas City Temple and I was a witness, along with David Lasiter, to the sealing of Jason Lee Hunt and Hannah Lasiter Hunt. What a precious moment when Justin was brought in by the temple matron and his hand was placed on his parents’, and they were sealed together for time and eternity.

I looked at Heather and gave her a smile and a wink when Justin was brought in. Heather was a beautiful little angel when she was brought into Nancy and my temple sealing and was sealed to us. Now she has four children of her own and we’re witnessing Justin’s sealing to his parents.

We even had Nathan, our youngest, in the temple with us for a little while before the session. He took care of Justin in the guest waiting room until Hannah’s sister arrived. I was able to sit with him for a few minutes and talk to him about the book he had picked up off the table in the waiting room: Jesus the Christ. I told him it was written by a great church apostle, James E. Talmadge.

After the sealing, we gathered outside the temple and took pictures. Then we enjoyed a picnic in the temple parking lot. Thanks for the picnic, Michelle Lasiter, especially the M&Ms – and thanks for all the great memories as our children strive to build their lives together in the church.

Four days later, we flew to Maryland to take care of Heather’s girls so her and her husband could go shopping for a new home. We’re on another adventure with three beautiful girls – being raised in the gospel. The oldest gave the best prayer last night!

Amen!

Thanksgiving in Oronogo

We had our Thanksgiving dinner Sunday with Jason, Hannah, Jared, Heidi, Annie, Katie, Nathan, Bruce, Chris, Matt, Christine, Karin, Mike, Makala, Joseph and Erin. Jim, Cathy and Doug came by for a couple of hours before they had to head home to Iowa after celebrating Thanksgiving with Bruce & Chris Thursday and Jim's birthday Saturday at Bruce's.
First, here are some pictures of the party Sunday, Nov. 27, 2011, at our home.

Looking from the livingroom couch into the kitchen and dining room. Kathy Westwood, Matt Westwood and Jared Hunt. 

Joseph & Makala Shannon are the first in dinner line!

The gang's all here: Hannah & Jason Hunt, Christine & Matt Westwood, Annie, Heidi, Jared Hunt, Katie, Lee Hunt, Makala, Mike, Joseph, Karin Shannon with Erin, Chris Westwood and Nathan Hunt.

The gang's all here: Hannah & Jason Hunt, Christine & Matt Westwood, Annie, Heidi, Jared Hunt, Katie, Lee Hunt, Makala, Mike, Joseph, Karin Shannon with Erin, Chris Westwood and Nancy Hunt.

Bishop Bruce Westwood arrives at the Hunts in Oronogo, MO, after tithing settlements and is ready for his dinner.

Finally Erin falls asleep -- on daddy Mike's chest -- and Mike does the same.

Makala, Joseph, Annie and Katie have their own special table inside Lee & Nancy's master bedroom, which is a doorway away from the livingroom.

The Three Amigos: Nathan, Jared and Jason.

Joseph takes a picture of the hostess, Nancy, in her kitchen.

Makala helps out in the kitchen at Lee & Nancy Hunt's home in Oronogo, MO.

Looking from the livingroom into the master bedroom and the table set for the four grandchildren.

Chris Westwood is barefoot in the Hunt kitchen.

Karin tries to feed Erin some potatoes and gravy as Mike supervises.

Karin tries to feed Erin (who has noticed Nancy taking pictures) some potatoes and gravy as Mike supervises.

There's Mommy Karin with Erin and her big baby, Mike!

Jason Hunt and Matt Westwood at the counter between the kitchen and livingroom.

The table is set for twelve. There's Lee, at left, enjoying the show: Karin trying to feed Erin some potatoes and gravy as Mike supervises.

Where's the food? Matt asks as he checks out the dining table in the livingroom -- or maybe he's looking at his pretty little wife sitting on the couch.

A view from the livingroom couch over the dining table with Chris Westwood and Nancy Hunt preparing the great post-Thanksgiving dinner.

Buffet table of desserts in dining room after post-Thanksgiving dinner Sunday at Hunts in Oronogo, MO.

Nathan Hunt Skypes with Heather, Ty and the kids. On the computer monitor is the baby.

Heidi, Jared, Hannah, Nathan and Jason playing "Spoons" after dinner. 

Chris, Bruce and Lee take their post-dinner nap.

Annie takes a nap on Nancy's lap after dinner Sunday.

Nathan, Heidi and Jared talk with Heather, Ty and the kids via Skype as Annie plays with Play Dough in Lee and Nancy's office.

Heidi, Jared, Hannah, Nathan and Jason playing "Spoons" after dinner.

Nathan, Jason, Katie, Heidi and Jared play "Spoons" after dinner.

Nathan, Jason, Katie, Heidi and Jared play "Spoons" after dinner.

Left, Joseph and Makala dish up post-Thanksgiving dinner. Jared and Heidi do the same for Annie and Katie.




Left, Lee finds a place for a post-Thanksgiving dinner nap -- behind bars!





Left, Jason is all smiles after dinner! But it possibly could be about Justin Gideon Hunt.