Gram

I decided that I wanted to record memories and thoughts about my family. For posterity, you know. From now on, about once a week, I'll choose one person about whom to share a few things - today, the spotlight is on Grandma Phillips.

Carolyn Evelyn Lord Phillips grew up here in Provo, in a little house by the old factory that was still owned by our family until just a few years ago. In fact, all of Grandma's daughters (she has 4) at one point lived there with their young families. My favorite part about that house was the yard. There was a massive willow tree with branches that trailed all the way to the lawn, and a huge vine-y bush behind the shed that you could crawl through until you found a little thicket. Seth and I had many adventures there.

My grandma is more like me than I ever realized growing up. She was shy as a kid and has learned to overcome that, just like I have (to a certain extent). We both hate being on anyone's bad side - I can't stand it when someone is upset with me, and she refused to ever fight with my grandpa. We both have a fundamentally loopy and energetic personality that we try (with varying degrees of success) to hide from the general populace. Also, we have the same round cheeks when we smile. I hated it until I realized I got it from her. :)

My earliest memories of my grandma are of coloring together. She always had a big stack of coloring books and boxes full of crayons, and we'd all spread out on the floor and color away - Grandma and all the grandkids. I had no idea this was unusual for a woman her age until one day a neighbor came over while she was visiting us. The lady went absolutely wild over the fact that Grandma was sprawled on her tummy in the middle of the living room, coloring. "Your grandkids are so lucky!" she said - and she was right.

Another thing about Grandma - she arm wrestles. I still remember the day when my oldest cousin beat her for the first time: he was about 15. Now, she has several grandsons who have bested her, but I still can't.

Grandma and Grandpa used to take us camping all the time. It was a Phillips family affair, with almost all of the aunts, uncles, and cousins in attendance. Those are some of my favorite childhood memories, and were the beginning of my love for nature (especially sunshine). We would spend days on the lake, fishing and skiing and tubing, and then stay up late around the fire to talk and laugh and roast things.

One day, my cousin Jessie and I were banished from Grandma's trailer because she was taking a nap and we couldn't stop giggling at her snores. When we got outside, we pushed a crate up to the window and climbed on top to listen and laugh some more. As we were shaking with silent giggles, one particularly violent snore sent us toppling over into a heap. In hindsight, we probably just lost our balance at a coincidental moment, but at the time we were convinced that Grandma's snore had rocked the whole trailer and knocked us down.

My grandma has always been a frequent visitor in St. George, even though the drive is a little lengthy. She almost always makes it for everyone's birthday, and often for no reason at all. As a result, she is acquainted with most of our neighbors and friends, all of whom have adopted her. People just call her "Grandma." Seth and his friends call her "G-dizzle." Even some of my college friends have met and adopted her.

I remember a time when Seth and I had friends over and she came downstairs to teach us all the jitterbug. Once, she did an impromptu piano recital for everyone called "The Bum Rhapsody." Yes, that does involve sitting on the keys. For another example of how silly my grandma is, check out my Facebook video called "Thriller." I'd post it here, but I don't think it's saved on my computer. Last year on Valentine's Day, someone knocked on our door while Sage's home teachers were over. She opened the door to see a V-day card on the mat, but as she bent to pick it up, it ran away up the stairs and around the corner! Naturally, Sage chased after it, and found my grandma hiding there with a card and a big wad of fishing line, giggling to herself.

Funnily enough, most of my cousins on the Weinheimer side of the family have also adopted Grandma Phillips.

My grandma is more than just a big dork. She is one of my greatest examples of faith and kindness. I can't even begin to express how much she has taught me, but there are a few lessons that stand out. First, Grandma always taught us to stand up straight. "Pretend there's a string from your breastbone to the ceiling!" she'd say. She taught us to be confident in who we are. My grandma always says that she has never intentionally hurt someone's feelings, and I believe it. She taught me to be unfailingly kind, no matter what has been said or done. Another thing, my grandma has "never betrayed a confidence." She taught me to be someone people can trust. Whether a friend swears me to secrecy or not, I never share any information that someone tells me in private, and that's something I learned from my grandma.

When things aren't going right, or when we feel like our goals are impossible and the world is working against us, Grandma always says, "Go on my faith." She knows that God takes care of us when we do what's right. There is no question in her eyes, no room for argument in her tone. She has conversations with her Heavenly Father all the time, she says. When we get in the car, she'll say, "Don't leave home without it!" and we know it's time for a prayer.

When my grandpa died, Grandma was the one who held us together. While everyone else was falling apart at the seams, she reminded us of all that God promised those who follow His Son. My grandparents weren't sealed in the temple at that time, and my grandpa's passing was not just a result of old age. It shook us all. He had been our rock. It was painful to contemplate eternity, because none of us were sure that he would be there with us. Grandma reminded us that Jesus Christ is the perfect judge. He knows what was in Grandpa's heart, and he would make sure that everything worked out the way it was supposed to. That same year, we lost my cousin and his whole family, as well as my uncle and my cousin's husband. Because she was so busy being strong for everyone else, my grandma didn't really cry over Grandpa until a year after his death. A year after that, my grandparents were sealed for time and eternity in the Timpanogos temple.

While this was one of the most trying experiences of my life, it made my testimony of the Atonement real. I know that Jesus Christ lived and died so that all of our mistakes and heartaches and sorrows could be healed. He has healed mine time and again. My grandma always says that she believes our family experienced sorrows so that we could help others endure theirs. It has made us compassionate. Leave it to Grandma to find the silver lining in the darkest of thunderclouds.

There's a saying in my family: "I love you most." It started with my grandpa, and my grandma has continued it. We all tell eachother we love the most, but Grandma reminds us, as grandpa did, that no one can love us more than she does. Her "I love you most" trumps all.