The Harwards: Part Two. (and if you'll notice my follow through)

Then there is Kristen. Kristen has always held a very special spot in Brandi’s heart, really in everyone’s heart but I remember thinking when I was younger that I wished Brandi would be as nice to me as she was to Kristen. Kristen is the little engine that could, can, will and does. She is the baby of eight. She is a little unsteady in her speech and on her feet. Almost every time I ever saw Kristen when we were younger she had a cut or scrape or scar of some kind or another from another accident. She never stopped or slowed down though. She could hold her own in a disagreement and was fiercely protected by her siblings, when she wasn’t being fiercely teased by them. Kristen got the easy crier gene and is tender to her core. Kristen is awe inspiring in and of herself just for the way she lives her life. She has been for as long as I have known her, and I’m sure even longer. Kristen has defied odds and is making it all on her own with a hubby and two babies in tow. On my list of things that will make me happiest in the millennial world is the thought of Kristen with her body whole, unscarred, and able to effortlessly and gracefully do all that she can’t do on this earth without a great deal of effort and compromise. It will be a beautiful thing. When I think of her I see a dignified woman now, full of strength. I know now why Brandi was nicer to her than to me. She deserved it more than most. Finally on my influential sibling list (and the one I intended to tell you about) comes Amy. Amy was my sister’s age. A LOT older than me. (Not really, but it seemed that way when we were younger) Brandi was not a happy camper in Arizona. She wanted to be back in Utah. Amy was a good friend to my sister and loved her for exactly who she was. With Amy, Brandi was silly and funny. They went on cool dates with cool guys and wore cool clothes from Gap. Amy was beyond highly intelligent. She was my intellectual all-star role model. She was fiery, confident, tall, naturally beautiful, and brutally honest. All of these factors lead up to one conclusion for me: intimidating. Awe inspiringly intimidating. Amy graduated from high school and went away to school. I remember Amy’s milestones well. Her wedding invitation arrived in the mail. I was excited for her and based on what her mom said, she had herself quite a catch. I wondered if he could tame her. Not change her but soften her abrupt ways. I remember next a family Christmas letter and photo of Amy and Damon and their little baby. Amy was now a mother. I remember sitting in the family room staring at that picture and feeling really overwhelmed when I looked at her hands. I know it sounds weird, but she was changed. It was her hands. They were now a mother’s hands and it suited her beautifully. I thought a lot about why that mattered to me so much. I don’t remember up to that point caring about any one else’s hands except mine because I thought they were manly, and Christ’s, for obvious reasons. From that year on, I have looked forward to going over to my mom’s house around Christmas time and reading Amy’s clever Christmas letters archiving what they were up to that year.

Then one day when Amy left a comment on my blog. I didn’t even have to wait until Christmas to peek in and see her life. I admit I was excited. But again, intimidated because my intellectual all-star, and self proclaimed super speller, was reading my blog. The blog where I once spelled ‘bowl’ ‘bowel’. My blog, where the rules of punctuation are my own, and my grammar is subjective. Whatever that means.

Shortly after I started reading her blog I realized quickly that she had set a goal for herself to blog every single day. Every. Single. Day. No. Matter. What. She was in the hospital for surgery. Still blogging. Pregnant and very sick. Still blogging. On family vacation. Still blogging. I began then to wonder what it was about her that made it so that she had the stick-to-itiveness that I can only dream of. I began to be further inspired by her. I could tell from reading her blog that she was still Amy. Softened, yet confident. Sarcastic, yet sensitive. Bold, yet buxom. (Just kidding. I was just seeing if you were paying attention and alliteration seemed appropriate. She’s not buxom.) Amy was still Amy. Amy was still amazing. It caused me much contemplation about why I hesitate to say some of the things I really feel. Like deep down feel. On her blog she has been completely open about her longing for her family to be closer. She has been open to admit that she gets cranky because being a mother of many, herself, is hard sometimes. I have questioned my lessons I learned with Brooke all those many years ago. Where I learned I had talents. Some worth sharing. Where I admitted that fact, if only to myself. Amy can still say things exactly as she sees them and Amy still has friends. Could that happen to me? Could I start that? And if I did, could I relinquish the fear of being judged for my openness? Could I uplift? Could I inspire? I’m still wondering. I know that Amy can do it though.

A few weeks ago, Amy was happily awaiting the arrival of her baby boy to be born in December. She was gearing up for her scrap booking convention. She was wrapping up her Christmas shopping, and starting to feel the drain and excitement of the third trimester. Then Amy’s world changed. I will let her tell the rest of her story.

While Amy’s world has changed and her story has deepened, I realize that Amy hasn’t changed. The core of her is still the same. Strong. Admirable. Enduring. Happy. Honest. Real. Really, really real. I have had many days of wondering what I would do if I were in her situation. I really don’t know. What I do know is that I would like to conduct myself with such grace, honesty, dignity, and love as she has. Not just in times of crisis. I don’t think that Amy just started this habit of being amazing. She just is. She always has been. She always will be. It’s who she is. She is honoring that. I am grateful because it makes me see that I can do it too. Maybe never with her boldness. But I can be stronger. I can be better. I can be a better Blogger. I can be a better mom. I can be a more loving wife. I can be a more consistent example of truth. In even the hardest of situations.

It has been said “the loveliest women ever known had a glow of health, a warm personality, a love of learning, stability of character, and integrity. If we may add the sweet and gentle Spirit of the Lord carried by such a woman, then this describes the loveliness of women in any age or time…” That says it all. That is Amy.

I’m glad she was friends with my sister. I’m glad that she reads my blog. I am glad that I get to peek in on her daily and be strengthened by her example. I am praying for your continued peace, Amy.