Well....here we are again. Here I am repenting for the billionth time for not keeping a better journal. In the Oct 2007 General Conference, Pres. Henry B. Eyring (who holds a special place in my heart) gave a wonderful talk entitled "O Remember, Remember." It was all about keeping journals and why we do it. He said a couple of things that really touched me:

When our children were very small, I started to write down a few things about what happened every day. Let me tell you how that got started. I came home late from a Church assignment. It was after dark. My father-in-law, who lived near us, surprised me as I walked toward the front door of my house. He was carrying a load of pipes over his shoulder, walking very fast and dressed in his work clothes. I knew that he had been building a system to pump water from a stream below us up to our property.

He smiled, spoke softly, and then rushed past me into the darkness to go on with his work. I took a few steps toward the house, thinking of what he was doing for us, and just as I got to the door, I heard in my mind—not in my own voice—these words: “I’m not giving you these experiences for yourself. Write them down.”

I went inside. I didn’t go to bed. Although I was tired, I took out some paper and began to write. And as I did, I understood the message I had heard in my mind. I was supposed to record for my children to read, someday in the future, how I had seen the hand of God blessing our family. Grandpa didn’t have to do what he was doing for us. He could have had someone else do it or not have done it at all. But he was serving us, his family, in the way covenant disciples of Jesus Christ always do. I knew that was true. And so I wrote it down, so that my children could have the memory someday when they would need it.

I wrote down a few lines every day for years. I never missed a day no matter how tired I was or how early I would have to start the next day. Before I would write, I would ponder this question: “Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us or our children or our family today?” As I kept at it, something began to happen. As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us that I had not recognized in the busy moments of the day. As that happened, and it happened often, I realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show me what He had done.

The years have gone by. My boys are grown men. And now and then one of them will surprise me by saying, “Dad, I was reading in my copy of the journal about when . . . ” and then he will tell me about how reading of what happened long ago helped him notice something God had done in his day.

My point is to urge you to find ways to recognize and remember God’s kindness. It will build our testimonies. You may not keep a journal. You may not share whatever record you keep with those you love and serve. But you and they will be blessed as you remember what the Lord has done.

So, there I have the reason why we are supposed to keep journals. My hope is to be able to record some thoughts and memories here so my family will be able to know the things I'm thankful for and the ways the Lord has blessed me and our family.

Right now the thing I'm most thankful for is that my kids have the opportunity to know Grandma and Grandpa Goodey. Eric has some recollections of my mom and dad. Marlee has none of my dad since he died before she came home, and only vague memories of my mom. Those will fade away. But at least they'll have great memories of Shannon's parents.

I never really knew my grandparents. Grandpa Voss (Mom's dad) died before I was born. Grandpa Turner died when I was 6. Grandma Turner lived in Colorado while we lived in Washington, so I rarely saw her. The one I knew the most was Grandma Voss. She even lived with us for a short while when I was very young. I don't remember much of that. She died when I was about 13.

She was never active in my life. She never came to school concerts or ball games or birthday parties. By the time I got to the age of remembrance, she was old and sick. Most of my memories of her are of sickness and nursing homes. To this day I am uncomfortable in nursing homes because of the things I saw in my grandma's nursing home the last time we visited her before she died.

I'm thankful that Eric and Marlee know and love Grandma and Grandpa Goodey. I just wish Shannon would relax a little around her mom. She gets so frustrated with Helen. I've tried to tell her to just let it go. Her mom is 82. Tonight she was upset because Helen wanted her to go upstairs to see look at some fabric she's using for a quilt or something. Shannon said, "I told her I already looked at it, but she wanted me to look at it again." I told her that in 5 years she'll wish she took the time to look at it again.

I've tried to tell her that I know things she doesn't know. I know what it's like to have both parents dead and buried. My faith tells me I'll see them again but right now they're gone. And, barring a tragic death on my part, they'll be gone from me for a long time. I can't tell you how many times I've run through my head the things I should have said, the calls I should have made, the visits I should have made. But I didn't. And now all I can do is wish I would have.