Tag: life

Uncategorized

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT

Nicole Shields Farnsworth

I pick up the caulk gun and climb up on the chair to reach the casing above the door. I’m helping my dad remodel a house. He is a general contractor and prefers not to hire employees. The only hired help he uses, other than subcontractors, are his six children. I first learned how to caulk when I was 12 years old. I think about all the caulking jobs I’ve done. I think about how I used to hate working for my dad. My siblings and I were expected to work through the summer and on many of our days off from school. I hated waking up early and working all day in the hot sun in Hurricane. You would think there wasn’t much that a little girl could do on a construction job site, but my dad always found something for us to do.

We started out as the clean-up crew and laying out 2x4s for framing. When we could read the measuring tape, we would make cuts on the chop saw. When we were strong enough to man a nail gun, we were nailing walls as high as we could reach. We would lay out shingles on the roof, prep for concrete, and prep for paint. Part of prepping for paint was filling holes and caulking. It’s a terribly tedious job. I am a perfectionist and very detail-oriented, so naturally, prepping for paint became my job.

As I’m caulking the casing on the door, my thoughts turn to the latest remodel project that my dad is doing. I smile and let out a little squeal because this project means a lot to me. My dad bought a home in Cedar City, just down the street from SUU’s campus, where I will be going to college in a few weeks. I get to live in the house that we’re remodeling. Better yet, I get to manage it, so I don’t have to pay rent! I mentally go over the list of pros for going to SUU. I’m so excited I can barely stand it:

  • I’m on the cheer team at SUU.
  • I was accepted to be a Presidential Ambassador—only eight seniors were chosen out of hundreds—and they gave me a job on campus that will pay for my tuition.
  • My cousin Brityn moved down from Salt Lake to be my roommate, and she’s on the track team at SUU.
  • I will only be 45 minutes away from home. Far enough away that I can live on my own, but close enough that I can still go home when I want to.

The only con to my plan is my baby sister. My smile droops a little and my heart constricts as I think about being away from home right now. Mom is due to have baby #7 any day now. This baby is a wonderful surprise that’s coming 11 years after my parents thought they were done having kids. Mom’s 45th birthday is in a few weeks, and this pregnancy has rocked her world. But now the whole family is ecstatic to meet our baby sister. I love newborn babies so much, and it hurts my heart to think about not being there every day to watch her grow.

Again, I seriously consider not going to college right now. I could quit it all and stay home and work. I could help raise this precious baby sister. I sigh and remind myself that I’ve already committed to the college, the cheer team, and the Presidential Ambassadors—not to mention Brityn, who switched schools to come and be my roommate. With difficulty, I remind myself that my parents taught me to finish what I’ve committed to. Quitting isn’t an option, but sometimes I want to.

BATHED IN SUNLIGHT

My thoughts turn back to Brityn. She is currently at her first track practice. Brityn and I are both here for school a few weeks early to start track and cheer practice before the fall semester begins. It works out great because my dad and I are racing the clock to get the house ready for the other four girls to move in before school starts. I focus again on my caulking job and go over in my mind what I have left to do today. As I’m finishing the top of both sides of the door, I hear the back door open a few feet behind me. Brityn is back from track practice. Without turning around I say, “Hi love! How was track practice?”

Brityn says, “It was good! I brought a friend home with me.” I think, Oh, that’s fun, a new friend I turn around, expecting to see a girl, but what I see instead is a man standing in the doorway, bathed in sunlight. I instantly think Wow! He is beautiful!

It seriously feels like one of those scenes from a movie. You know when the guy sees the girl and the movie turns to slow motion, her hair blowing in the wind, she’s smiling at someone, and then slowly turns to look at him. That’s how it was—only in reverse. Time slows down so I can take a good look. I’m pretty sure my eyes are bugging out like in a cartoon.

The first thing I notice is his big, beautiful smile and straight white teeth. He is tall, and his hair is shaved short with sideburns. He is tan and his muscles—holy moly, his muscles. He is wearing a tank top so I can see his big shoulders and muscly arms, and to say I’m impressed would be a gross understatement.

I stare for a few seconds while Brityn introduces us. I’m not listening to what she’s saying because I’m too busy taking in the sight before me. The only thing I catch is his name—which I think she said is Brandon, but people call him Leo. What? I’m kind of confused, but I don’t have time to figure it out. Then, without thinking, I blurt out, “Hi love!”

Brandon looks a little startled. He chuckles and says hi back.

The look he gives me brings me back to reality. Ugh, what the heck was I thinking? I get embarrassed and turn around to keep working on the door casing. I’m suddenly very aware that I’m wearing my dad’s big t-shirt that’s covered in paint over my cheer spandex. I feel like a little girl wearing my dad’s shirt for pajamas again. My hair hasn’t been washed in a few days and is in a five-second bun. At least I put a little makeup on this morning. I also remind myself that I’m a teenager who just graduated high school. Granted, I recently turned 19 and I like to think I’m a mature teenager, but I’m still a teenager. Brandon is a mature man—a man who is totally and completely out of my reach.

Something in my life shifts though. I’ve never believed in love at first sight before, but now I understand where the sentiment comes from.

Brityn and Brandon chat for a few minutes. She shows him the house while I keep caulking, then Brandon leaves. As soon as he drives away, I track Brityn down to find out more about this guy. She says he’s going home to change, then he’s coming back to hang out and help us work. Well, isn’t that nice of him? She gives me the quick rundown:

  • Brandon is her boyfriend’s friend, and they all did track together in high school.
  • Brandon is four years older than us. After he graduated, he coached track at West Jordan for a few years, so that’s how he got to know Brityn so well.
  • He was engaged to someone after high school but decided to go on a mission later, so he is 23 instead of 21 like most guys who leave at 19.
  • He went to Texas on his mission and has only been home for six weeks.
  • He is a decathlete at SUU, and javelin is his best event. So now they’re doing track together in college.
  • And the last bit of information is important—she says he was interested in a mutual friend of theirs who wrote to him on his mission, but that didn’t work out, and he already has another girl he’s dating on the track team.

So… not single. Got it. Okay, so he’s much older than me and clearly a lady’s man. I don’t say anything to Brityn about my instant crush on her “older” hot friend. I’m just excited that he’s coming back to hang out with Brityn so I can see him again.

Brandon comes over to help us after track practice for the next few days. I soon find out that he is funny! On top of having a great body, a beautiful smile, and being so nice to help us work on the house—I just think he is the best. But I keep it all to myself for two reasons: one, he has a girlfriend, and two, I don’t think I stand a chance of capturing his attention. I’m just his friend’s cousin. That’s okay, I tell myself. I’ll just enjoy the fact that he comes to hang out with us. He makes us laugh a lot, and I love it when he tells stories or talks to me, so I can openly stare at him without feeling like a creeper. He has beautiful brown eyes that pull me in. I wish he would really look at me as a potential love interest, but I know it’s useless, so I keep my growing affections for him a secret.

A few days go by, and I’m touch-up painting in one of the bedrooms. We’re so close to getting the house ready for the other four girls to move in, but there is still plenty to do. Brityn gets home, and I hear a male voice—I know it’s Brandon. I instantly feel panicky. I haven’t showered in a few days, and I haven’t gotten ready for the day yet. Even though it’s late afternoon, I’ve been working and cleaning for days. Ew. I feel so gross. I jump up and run to the bathroom before they can make it down the hall. I cringe as I slam the door a little too hard.

Brityn knocks on the door a few seconds later and says, “Colie? Is everything okay?” She uses my childhood nickname, so I know she’s concerned about me.

I hesitate and say, “Yeah… I’m just getting ready for the day really quick.”

I don’t have time to shower, so I wash my face, put on a little makeup, and fix my bun. I haven’t dried or straightened my hair in weeks. Oh well, I’m too busy to worry about looking my best. Besides, who am I trying to impress anyway?

Nicole & Brityn: Roomates at house by SUU

Chronic Pain

PRESENT DAY: SUMMER 2018

Nicole Shields Farnsworth

We’re driving on the dirt road to our favorite camping spot. The weather is warm enough that I can have the window down and not get cold. That’s my favorite. I love fresh mountain air, and I hate being cold. It hurts my body to be cold. I put my hand out of the window and see the beautiful pine trees and aspens. Oh, I love this place! It fills my soul with peace.

I reflect on all that I have to be grateful for—

  • My husband and my hero, Brandon
  • Our boys, Leo and Talon
  • We have a nice comfortable trailer that Brandon fixed up for us
  • We have time to go camping together
  • I’m healthy enough to go with them
  • The sun is shining…

Life is good. With all its trials lately, life is still good!

My eyes focus on my face in the side mirror of the truck. I’m 36 years old now. How did that happen? Do I look 36? I’ve always looked younger than my age. I wonder if that’s still true. I have my long brownish-red hair in a braid. I was born with blonde hair, which turned brown in adolescence. Then, in my 20s, it started to get auburn highlights. Random strangers will sometimes comment on me being a redhead, and I’m always taken aback. I wouldn’t say that I have red hair, but in the sun, it definitely has auburn in it.

I start to critique my reflection. I notice my big forehead, which my four sisters always make fun of. I smile at the memories. We are brutal about each other’s insecurities. I’m getting more pronounced crow’s feet by my eyes; I wonder if that should bother me? I see so many girls being worried about wrinkles that I’m tempted to jump on the band wagon. But honestly, I have enough to worry about with my body. Wrinkles are the least of my worries.

I’ve always had thick eyebrows. Luckily, it’s “in” to have thicker eyebrows. I started plucking my uni-brow in grade school, for heaven’s sake. I’m glad that my eyebrow maintenance takes less time these days. I have blue eyes and long eyelashes. Two of my sisters got naturally long, curly eyelashes. Mine are annoyingly straight.

My nose is a little crooked. If I look up slightly, it’s more noticeable. When I was in elementary school, I used to push on the tip of my nose, thinking I could make it less crooked and pointy.

My teeth were straight at one time, but my front bottom teeth have gone a little crooked. I have one front tooth that is starting to turn slightly yellow. When I was eight years old, I was trying to do a back flip on a swing and accidentally kneed myself in the mouth. My tooth cut my knee open, and my knee knocked my tooth way back. My dad had to trick me and pull my tooth back into place. My knee still has an oddly shaped heart scar, and my tooth is slowly dying.

I have acne scarring on both cheeks. I wish so badly that I could make those disappear. I turn my head slightly to the left and look at the straight scar, about an inch long, on my right cheek. It was my first noticeable scar. My thoughts go back to the first time I remember studying myself in the mirror.

BIRTHMARK

When I was four or five years old, I was playing outside in the snow with my two older siblings. We were throwing snowballs at each other, and I got one in the face. My oldest brother, Jon, told me that I had some mud stuck on my face, so I went inside and looked in the mirror. Sure enough, there was a brown spot as big as a dime on my right cheek that wouldn’t come off, no matter how much I scrubbed! That was the first time I remember noticing that I looked a little different than other kids. I yelled for my mom to come help me. She came in, and I told her what happened. She cleaned the soap off my face and sat me on her lap. Then, she explained that I was born with a birthmark on my cheek. She also told me it was an angel’s kiss. I thought it must have been a boy angel because my birthmark was brown.

When I started school, kids would often ask what was on my cheek. I would get shy, mumble something about it being a birthmark or an angel’s kiss, and turn my face away, hoping they would just forget about me. I was always super embarrassed whenever my birthmark came up. Maybe I didn’t like the attention, or maybe I didn’t like my birthmark, but either way, I came to dislike the way I looked. As an adult, I can see that kids were just curious. As a kid, I was just embarrassed and wanted it to go away.

At the end of fifth grade, we lived in Mesquite, NV, and we were going to be moving to Hurricane, UT, that summer. I asked my parents if we could get my birthmark removed before I went to a new school. We had moved a few times previously, and it was not fun being the “new girl.” It was worse being the “new girl with a big brown mole on her face.” Adults and children would typically try to avoid looking at it, or they would ask about it. Both were equally embarrassing to me.

I don’t remember how much I had to ask or beg, but my mom took me to a dermatologist, and made an appointment to get it removed. I was so excited! I remember looking at my face in the side mirror of the van, just like I am right now, and imagining what I would look like without my birthmark. I had to have stitches for a few weeks and couldn’t participate in our end-of-the-year water day, but that was okay because I was finally going to be like everybody else. No one at my new school would even know that I was born with a birthmark.

After I had it removed, I remember looking in the side mirror of the van and liking that I looked like a normal kid. I gained a little confidence! I felt like I could look people in the eye and smile at them without fear of them zoning in on my birthmark.

It kind of makes me sad for that little girl. I wish I had been strong enough or confident enough to just own it. I wish I hadn’t cared what other people thought or said. I don’t regret getting my birthmark removed. Maybe that still makes me weak. But I feel like I have more empathy and compassion for others because of it.

Four year old Nicole
Eleven year old Nicole

“I love it up here!” Brandon says as he sticks his hand out the window too. He pulls me from my thoughts about my childhood.

“Mmm, me too,” I say as I look over at Brandon and think about the first time I saw him, around this time of year, 17 years ago. I had just graduated high school, turned 19, and was about to start college…

Chronic Pain

Why I’m starting a blog…

Nicole Shields Farnsworth

Oatmeal Accident

“Here’s your food. Do you want any sauce with that?”

We’re grabbing food from Taco Time before heading up the mountain to go camping. Brandon and I are a little annoyed with each other because packing and leaving always takes longer than we hope for. I’m an anxious over-packer. Also, I’m six months pregnant and moving slower these days.

“Yes, mild sauce, please,” I say as I grab a fat stack of napkins. Thinking, we should make sure the truck’s glove box is stocked.

“Have a great night,” the employee says as she puts the sauce packets in the paper bag.

“Thanks, you too!” She doesn’t hear me as she’s already on to her next task. I gather everything and take it back out to the truck. We didn’t want to get Leo out and I didn’t know what I wanted so I went in to order the food.

We picked Taco Time because it’s right next to the freeway entrance. As Brandon navigates the truck and camp trailer out of the parking lot, I get a soft taco out for Leo, unwrap it, turn around as best as I can with my big belly, and set it on his lap in his car seat. Leo is three years old and can sort of handle a taco by himself now. However, he’s a picky eater, so there’s a 50/50 chance he’ll actually eat it.

I turn back around and start to get our food out of the bag when the truck starts slightly fishtailing. I drop the food back into the bag and look around, suddenly on high alert. We’re getting on the freeway, about to merge, but the truck keeps fishtailing. Brandon speeds up to try to regain control of the trailer, but instead, the fishtailing worsens.

It feels like my heart is in my throat. I look at Brandon for reassurance, but he looks worried as he is furiously working on the steering wheel to keep us straight. Anxiously, I glance out the window and see that all the cars around us have slowed down and moved away.

We’re now fishtailing violently across multiple lanes. Brandon is trying his hardest to gain control. Speeding up didn’t work and he knows that slowing down usually makes the fishtailing worse. He yells, “Get ready to crash!”

A whimper escapes me. I’m so scared, but I can’t talk or cry. I look out the windshield to see what we might crash into. The right side of the freeway slopes down a hill lined with big trees. If we crash, we’ll likely flip when we hit that hill. Will the trees stop us from rolling, or will they be what kills us? I try to imagine how this might go down so I can prepare. What can I do?

I whip my head around to look at Leo. He’s frozen, his wide eyes filled with confusion. He has the taco in his hand. Was he really going to eat it? As fast as I can, I grab the taco, wrap it back up, and put it in the bag. Because if we flip, we don’t want tacos flying around and making a mess, do we?

Time slows down. Each second stretches endlessly as we whip back and forth across the highway. I look at Leo once more. He’s securely buckled in a five-point harness—I hope his car seat does its job. I can’t do anything else for him. I turn around and make sure my seat belt is positioned correctly under my pregnant belly. I place one arm over my belly and grip the door handle with the other.

I sound like I’m hyperventilating. I want to scream and cry, but all that comes out is more scared, whimpering sounds. I glance at Brandon again, and I can tell he’s scared. That terrifies me even more. I typically look to him for guidance and strength. What do I do when he’s struggling? I feel so helpless! In my panic, I somehow find my voice and yell, “Heavenly Father, please help me!” It’s the loudest and most desperate prayer I’ve ever uttered.

There isn’t enough time to think about anything else to say. Are we slowing down? It’s hard to tell, but something feels different.

I stay silent and hopeful as we continue whipping across the freeway. Come on, come on, come on, I silently chant.

Brandon’s arms and hands work fast and furiously, gripping the steering wheel to keep us on the road. He looks slightly more confident as the jerking starts to ease. I don’t know what changed, but somehow, we manage to slow down enough to safely pull off onto the shoulder.

A few seconds later, traffic resumes as if nothing happened. Inside the truck, we sit motionless, staring straight ahead. My arms and legs feel numb from the panic. I still can’t breathe. I look back at Leo—he’s scared but okay. I look at my belly—it’s hard as a rock from a Braxton Hicks contraction, but my baby is safe. I look at Brandon. He meets my gaze with a strained but relieved expression. He grabs my hand and asks, “Are you okay?”

I squeeze his hand tight and break down sobbing!

After I cry for a while, Leo starts to get antsy. We decide to drive to my parents’ house to regroup. We stick to the back roads and go slow. I can’t stop crying, clinging to Brandon’s hand the entire time.

When we park at my parents’ house, we check the trailer for damage. As we open the door and peek inside, we’re met with chaos. Brandon helps Leo and I inside, and we take a closer look. Everything is covered in oatmeal! The food and dishes from the cupboards are scattered all over, and oatmeal is all over our bedding, luggage, countertops, and floor. It looks like someone threw an oatmeal confetti party in our trailer. That’s why Leo named this experience “The Oatmeal Accident.”

This was a terrifying experience. I will never forget the moment when I truly believed I could die. The clearest thought came to me: I can’t die yet—I haven’t written down my life experiences!

I was surprised that this was my first thought in the face of death. I know keeping a journal is important, but I’ve never been good at it. In fact, I totally suck at it.

But I realized that I don’t want to die and just disappear. I want my family and future generations to know me, to know my trials and how I’ve navigated them. I keep a lot inside; there’s so much I don’t talk about. I suffer in silence, it’s what I do.

The Oatmeal Accident was a massive wake-up call—I have a purpose on this earth. I need to record my life experiences! That was almost nine years ago.

I’ve felt hundreds of impressions to share my story. I wrote a lot of it four years ago, during a difficult trial. But writing it down and putting it on the internet are two very different things. Both require courage, but in different ways.

At first, I didn’t plan to share my story with strangers, but I’ve been inspired by people who bravely shared theirs:

– Kim White (@kimcankickit)

– Collin Kartchner (@collinkartchner)

Screenshot

– Chelsea Anderson (@heartsofzion, formerly Rock and Lily)

Screenshot

They’ve all passed away. Kim from cancer. Collin from a sudden heart problem. Chelsea from a brain aneurysm.

And yet, they continue to inspire me every day. I want to honor their courage and pay it forward.

I’m trying to be brave like they were.

So… here we go!