it's nothing special....it's just kriss

Recently, a good friend posted about the mission and it got me thinking about my mission and what it means to me. It has been a great chance to reflect - especially since the years after the mission keep flying by and I notice that, slowly, the evidences of my mission have started to fade into the background of my all-too-busy life. So, this post is really to remind myself what the mission means to me - but thanks for reading along with me. :) I cannot possibly post all of my reflections here because, as Elder Holland says frequently, "My mission meant EVERYTHING to me!". I pretty much feel the same way. But here are a few (or quite a few) of the ways that the mission means everything to me: - It means I set the alarm for 7:00...and I'm grateful for that extra 30 minutes. - It means I have a greater appreciation for being able to do whatever I want, all by myself! - It means I recognize how awesome it is that I don't have to wea...

I bought the dog a new sweater. I know. You don't even have to say it. But isn't it cute?!

Last week in my observations, we worked with a sweet, sweet lady. I've worked with her a few times before. She is legally blind, 95 years old and has had her hip dislocated over 13 times. Other than that, she is very alert, has a great sense of humor and still gets around very well on her own. She has had a rough life, she was widowed very young with three small daughters. All she knew how to be when her husband died was a housewife - so she had to go back to school and get an education and then enter the workforce to support her family. She never remarried but she lived life to it's fullest, always up for whatever next great adventure lie ahead. She is a great patient and always has a great story to tell and a positive outlook on life. For therapy this past week, the therapist asked her what question she would ask a potential employee if she were interviewing them for a job. Her response, "Do you fool around after work?" It was so uncharacteristic that the therapis...

Last week while I was shadowing the Occupational Therapist at Orem Rehab, I was able to watch a therapy session with a sweet little lady named Elsie. I'm not quite sure what her diagnosis is, but Elsie is hunched over in a wheelchair and she has a few symptoms of Downs Syndrome - one of which is that her tongue is very large and fills her whole mouth, so it's really hard to understand what she is saying. She is very alert, but has pretty severely dimished congition - so it's like working with a young child. She is a permanent resident there at the Nursing home. I've seen her a couple of times, but haven't had a chance to talk with her or be there when she had therapy sessions. So Thursday was a first in a lot of ways. I was first impressed when the therapist introduced me to Elsie, that she said she remembered me from when she had seen me in the hall a few weeks earlier. What a great memory! They played a matching game to start out therapy. It was a simple game bu...