My grandma is not a millennial. She was born on Christmas Eve of 1929. But I want to highlight her story here as well because she has been so instrumental in shaping my adulthood. She's always created safe and brave spaces for those around her and been willing to listen and ask questions as well as share opinions. So pardon me for breaking my own rules. I have been missing her a lot, especially in the past couple of weeks as I have felt weighted regarding women's value in society and the church and my own complexities as a human. She passed away in November 2016, almost two years ago, but moving to Indiana, her dear home of fifty years, has helped me feel close to her spirit. Even though she is no longer here, my relationship with her is not over, it has simply changed.
My grandma is a champion of love, of intellectual queries, and of spiritual growth.
My grandma read thousands of books over her 86 years of life, taught early morning seminary for decades and Gospel Doctrine for years, and never ceased to ask questions even if she didn't get answers. Especially if she didn't get answers.
She loved being an LDS woman and saw Mormon feminism, as many others do, as a way “to care enough about the church to want to see it better, to cherish the past without denying the future, to love and respect the brethren while accepting their limitations, to be willing to speak when no one is listening.” (Laurel Thatcher Ulrich). The Gospel was her world, and she bloomed wherever she was planted.
These aren't her words, they're mine. But I hope she'd approve.
story 12.
a brief repose from another generation.
I was born and raised in Cache Valley. The only world that I knew growing up was the world of Mormons. My family, my community, my understanding of the world all came through the lens of being a Latter Day Saint.
I fell in love with the most handsome man and married him when I was 22. His name was Clair and he was kind, respectful, loving, and hard-working (and did I mention incredibly attractive?). Though I turned him down the first two times he asked me out, I said yes the third time because he finally suggested a different activity than skating (which I couldn't do because of my weak ankles but no way was I telling him that). I graduated from Utah State University in Early Childhood and Elementary Education in the spring and married Clair the summer after graduating.
He was my dream guy and even though I nagged him more and more as we got older, he was wise enough to take that as another way of saying "I love you." Which was true for the most part. He was my rock and I was his; we complimented each other in our differences and built a beautiful life together.
My grandkids tell me we have the best love story and I'd like to think that's true.
Even though my husband is the one who got the doctoral degree (Music Supervision), I'm the one who always loved talking about church history, the one who craved deep conversations, and the one who was never without a book. Clair and I both loved getting to know new people and I developed the gift of listening.
We both grew up in Mormon communities--Cache Valley and Franklin, Idaho--but life had a way of pushing us outside of our comfort zones. We left the lands of our pioneer ancestors as Clair completed various stages of schooling and sought employment. Clair was always brave and content to go wherever the wind blew. I felt happy to be with my family and liked the adventures that came with life in our small homes in Texas, Idaho, Utah, Colorado, Nevada, and finally Indiana, where I spent fifty years and fully embraced Hoosier culture.
I think some people struggle with change, but I loved the life that I've gotten to lead. I loved being a mom to six amazing children. I hope that I inspired a love of questions and learning in them. I hope that I taught them what community means. I hope that I was an example of love for the unknown and different and faith amidst uncertainty.
I was 38 when we moved our family to Indiana, which is when I think I really learned what it meant to build God's kingdom. The church in Terre Haute was very different than the church in the west. In Indiana, it was small and it was quirky. But it was my whole world too and permeated every aspect of my life. I spent my last few mortal years working on a book about LDS church history in Terre Haute because it was so big and so small at the same time. My roots aren't technically in Indiana, but my grandkids feel roots here because of me and Clair.
I have seen the LDS church change and grow over the past many decades.
I saw the remnants of a temporally closer polygamy. I was there when the different church meetings still took place at separate times on Sunday and throughout the week, though I'm sad I'm not there to experience the new two-hour church block. I helped my kids participate in the fundraising efforts of the church in the 70s as we raised money for our own church building. I mourned the decade when women couldn't pray in church meetings. I rejoiced when men of African-American descent were able to receive the priesthood. I experienced the presidencies of ten different prophets. I've read books, journals, and magazines on Mormon intellectualism, feminism, history, doctrine, and faith. I've seen those essays change and morph. I've spent countless hours engrossed in the scriptures, seeking knowledge, comfort, answers, and questions.
My children saw some of church history change. I made sure they felt safe and comfortable taking about any aspect of the church. The parts they loved and the parts they didn't understand. I hope they love their own quirky history.
I've seen many of my children and grandchildren grow up to be fiercely independent and strong-willed. I'm proud of them for that. I hope they look up to me as the matriarch of our family, that they see my Clair as an equal patriarch. I hope they love their quirky earthly family and feel connected with their spiritual family.
I hope they continue to grow as I did.
I hope we all continue to grow.
You can read her obituary here if you want to know more about the marvelous Jeri Woodward.
My grandma is a champion of love, of intellectual queries, and of spiritual growth.
My grandma read thousands of books over her 86 years of life, taught early morning seminary for decades and Gospel Doctrine for years, and never ceased to ask questions even if she didn't get answers. Especially if she didn't get answers.
She loved being an LDS woman and saw Mormon feminism, as many others do, as a way “to care enough about the church to want to see it better, to cherish the past without denying the future, to love and respect the brethren while accepting their limitations, to be willing to speak when no one is listening.” (Laurel Thatcher Ulrich). The Gospel was her world, and she bloomed wherever she was planted.These aren't her words, they're mine. But I hope she'd approve.
story 12.
a brief repose from another generation.
I was born and raised in Cache Valley. The only world that I knew growing up was the world of Mormons. My family, my community, my understanding of the world all came through the lens of being a Latter Day Saint.
I fell in love with the most handsome man and married him when I was 22. His name was Clair and he was kind, respectful, loving, and hard-working (and did I mention incredibly attractive?). Though I turned him down the first two times he asked me out, I said yes the third time because he finally suggested a different activity than skating (which I couldn't do because of my weak ankles but no way was I telling him that). I graduated from Utah State University in Early Childhood and Elementary Education in the spring and married Clair the summer after graduating.
He was my dream guy and even though I nagged him more and more as we got older, he was wise enough to take that as another way of saying "I love you." Which was true for the most part. He was my rock and I was his; we complimented each other in our differences and built a beautiful life together.
My grandkids tell me we have the best love story and I'd like to think that's true.
Even though my husband is the one who got the doctoral degree (Music Supervision), I'm the one who always loved talking about church history, the one who craved deep conversations, and the one who was never without a book. Clair and I both loved getting to know new people and I developed the gift of listening.
We both grew up in Mormon communities--Cache Valley and Franklin, Idaho--but life had a way of pushing us outside of our comfort zones. We left the lands of our pioneer ancestors as Clair completed various stages of schooling and sought employment. Clair was always brave and content to go wherever the wind blew. I felt happy to be with my family and liked the adventures that came with life in our small homes in Texas, Idaho, Utah, Colorado, Nevada, and finally Indiana, where I spent fifty years and fully embraced Hoosier culture.
I think some people struggle with change, but I loved the life that I've gotten to lead. I loved being a mom to six amazing children. I hope that I inspired a love of questions and learning in them. I hope that I taught them what community means. I hope that I was an example of love for the unknown and different and faith amidst uncertainty.
I was 38 when we moved our family to Indiana, which is when I think I really learned what it meant to build God's kingdom. The church in Terre Haute was very different than the church in the west. In Indiana, it was small and it was quirky. But it was my whole world too and permeated every aspect of my life. I spent my last few mortal years working on a book about LDS church history in Terre Haute because it was so big and so small at the same time. My roots aren't technically in Indiana, but my grandkids feel roots here because of me and Clair.
I have seen the LDS church change and grow over the past many decades.
I saw the remnants of a temporally closer polygamy. I was there when the different church meetings still took place at separate times on Sunday and throughout the week, though I'm sad I'm not there to experience the new two-hour church block. I helped my kids participate in the fundraising efforts of the church in the 70s as we raised money for our own church building. I mourned the decade when women couldn't pray in church meetings. I rejoiced when men of African-American descent were able to receive the priesthood. I experienced the presidencies of ten different prophets. I've read books, journals, and magazines on Mormon intellectualism, feminism, history, doctrine, and faith. I've seen those essays change and morph. I've spent countless hours engrossed in the scriptures, seeking knowledge, comfort, answers, and questions.
My children saw some of church history change. I made sure they felt safe and comfortable taking about any aspect of the church. The parts they loved and the parts they didn't understand. I hope they love their own quirky history.
I've seen many of my children and grandchildren grow up to be fiercely independent and strong-willed. I'm proud of them for that. I hope they look up to me as the matriarch of our family, that they see my Clair as an equal patriarch. I hope they love their quirky earthly family and feel connected with their spiritual family.
I hope they continue to grow as I did.
I hope we all continue to grow.
You can read her obituary here if you want to know more about the marvelous Jeri Woodward.
She would have used the exact same words!
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