No clue if i'm doin this right, so here goes! I was just recalling the other day how Mom always gave us boys (probably not the girls, because they were "angels" as children HA!) that look that made you feel guilty for doing something wrong. Especially when you took cookies she had made for some other family hahaha oohhh good times. well this all for today, because I dont know if this worked and this is a really funky keyboard at Scot's house, and it is hard to use. Love you Mom.
Another memory - I remember when we still kept the piano in the family room and the computer was behind it. I was playing with the then new digital camera and i turned on some music. I turned on a song and Mom started dancing. Dianne Dynamite was born!!!
View at http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3965831392400752199&q=rebecker89&hl=en
Another memory - I remember when we still kept the piano in the family room and the computer was behind it. I was playing with the then new digital camera and i turned on some music. I turned on a song and Mom started dancing. Dianne Dynamite was born!!!
View at http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3965831392400752199&q=rebecker89&hl=en
Additional Submission:
I must admit that Chris's video brought me to extreme tears. Especially the videos. It helped me remember the "good old days" and of course, Mom. I remember Mom getting me ready to go to Hinkle Creek for the first time. She was the cool Mom, supplying me with my awesome new shoes and my retro teal plastic fiber backpack. Mom always had my schooling in mind and often would buy extra Math books to help me in the subject I still struggle in. I remember the few times I would come home in tears because my clothes weren't cool enough at school and I felt like cheap white trash that lived behind McMillans auto shop. 
But after many hugs and squeezes I left Mom's arms feeling back at home again. I also recall (with tears even now in my eyes) my senior smiw sectionals. I had just swam the 100 back and had gotten second and thus sectional runner-up. After similar races before, I remember the look of her satisfaction, yet sympathy for my sub-par performance. But that day there was a different look. It was pure prided and happiness for me. For me giving my all inspite of a season altering injury and a career ending swim. My tears added volume to the pool as I warmed down after my race, knowing that eventhough I had gotten second, her eyes shined like I had gotten first. It is a very emotional memory for me. We all know and revere her smile, laugh, attitude (good), spirituality, and genuine love. But above all I must draw our attention to a subtle and (yes Dad, here it comes) symbolic thing about Mom.
But after many hugs and squeezes I left Mom's arms feeling back at home again. I also recall (with tears even now in my eyes) my senior smiw sectionals. I had just swam the 100 back and had gotten second and thus sectional runner-up. After similar races before, I remember the look of her satisfaction, yet sympathy for my sub-par performance. But that day there was a different look. It was pure prided and happiness for me. For me giving my all inspite of a season altering injury and a career ending swim. My tears added volume to the pool as I warmed down after my race, knowing that eventhough I had gotten second, her eyes shined like I had gotten first. It is a very emotional memory for me. We all know and revere her smile, laugh, attitude (good), spirituality, and genuine love. But above all I must draw our attention to a subtle and (yes Dad, here it comes) symbolic thing about Mom.I remember Mom's hands.
The hands that held us for the first time, fed us for the first time, shushed us for the first time. The hands that pointed the way to primary, and the way to school. The hands that gave us lunch money, and the hands that made us meals. I remember the hands red from heat, and pruny from the long hours spent washing all our dishes. I remember the hands that spanked us all, and hugged us all. Vividly I remember the hands that sent shivers throughout your entire body when they crept underneath our shirts, only to be followed by a smile and a giggle from Mom. I remember the hands that clapped for me at my wrestling matches, my swim meets, my football games, my track meets, my rugby games (no matter the outcome or how I felt she was always there with a smile and hug), my awards banquets, my Scout Courts of Honor, and my graduation from Seminary and High School. I remember the hands that hugged me goodbye as I was whisked off to BYU, and welcomed me back home again. I now see the hands, that have always been guiding me, clearly in my mind. They are now pointing me in a new direction. They are hastening me forward into the service of the Lord. They do not push or shove, force or coax, they merely invite. The choice is left solely to me, but the hands are not shy in showing that they long for me to go. And so I go, and offer my hands to the Lord and His work so that I might remind others of His hands. Mom, I remember, and will always remember, your hands, weathered and worn, yet delicate and soft. You have always been there for me Mom, even when I went on blind rages and got angry far too easily. But your maternal example of forgiveness taught me to be forgiving, and patient.
Thank you. I love you, Mom.
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