i have eaten more waffles in the past weekend than i have in five years. i am drunk with waffles and naps and the music i stole off maggies computer before she left. i know, i didnt think it was possible to become intoxicated by waffles but im telling you right now, it is.

the hardest part of the semester ending is not the 10-page research papers or the two hour final exams. its not the hundreds of dollars you get shorted when you try to sell your books back to the bookstore or the painful sunburn you get the day after you finish. its when the friends you've loved and treasured and perhaps taken for granted pack up their clothes, strip down their beds and board airplanes to places far from this small island in the sea. we've had quite the little family in our a-frame home this past year and it was not until this morning that i really felt my heart sink a bit at the thought of being separated. despite shouts over toilet paper or the missing banana and silent days i'll never be able to steal back, i think we have tasted a bit of happiness, a bit of love that is as real and thick as the waves crashing outside my window. i have learned so much. i have laughed so hard. 

as of today i'm a big bad senior in college. rawrr

"And now, after the many testimonies which have been given of him, this is the testimony, last of all, 
which we give of him: That he lives!" -Joseph Smith


i couldnt help but reminisce a bit this morning about easters of the past..scrambling around the house in pajamas, searching for the easter basket with my name scribbled on the top. inevitably, someone would grab the wrong basket and send another sibling into a teary tantrum. then, swallowing our pride and as much candy as our stomachs and mother would allow, we'd race to pull on tights, take out curlers and buckle shoes. when the last ribbon had been tied and the ham placed in the oven, we would pile in the car and rush off to church.

today, easter finds my family scattered in all sorts of different directions. my parents are spending their first holiday in a new house buried in utah mountains, far from our east coast home. lindsay is spending her last holiday in the slums of reseda, san fernando valley before returning from her 18-month spanish-speaking mormon mission in june. as of friday, james is officially a college graduate from BYU-idaho. and our baby, catherine, is eating her first easter dinner of many, many more to come with her soon-to-be-husband david zant.

as for me, i am rolling out of another semester in hawaii, celebrating with good food and the best friends. its april again and summer is creeping around the corner, promising to be a game changer. i can hardly believe i will be a senior in college soon--it feels like yesterday i was stomping around norwell high school yelling "senior girlz" and feeling too important. so much has changed and its been a roller coaster of emotions, all tied into the most transcendent gratitude. gratitude for parents who love me and despite the mistakes i make time and time again, continue to be patient and see the best in me. gratitude for friends all over the world who take the time to send texts, leave messages, call, skype or show up with a gallon of icecream. for siblings who make me laugh always and keep me in their prayers. for the opportunity to live in this incredible place. for eyes, ears, arms, legs, lungs and a heart that all work! for love!

and most of all, and especially on easter, i am grateful for Jesus Christ and the knowledge i have of a God who loves and knows me. it is everything. it is the foundation of all my happiness, the root of all goodness. true, good, real joy. it is not outdated or inapplicable. it is not a heartwarming pasttime or old tradition. it is as real, alive and important today as it was thousands of years ago when the words "he is not here, for he is risen" were spoken. i know that. i know it in my heart and my head and my throat. i feel it in my fingers and toes and i see it in the lives of those around me. i see it in the view from my porch around 6:45 everyday when the sun sets. i know it as thickly and intensely as i've ever known anything, ever. and it is everything.