On Thursday after dropping Clarissa off at dance I headed to the Y to meet up with Courtney and Heidi. We had a great time hiking all the way up until switchback 9 when it got muddy and we needed to turn around if we wanted to be back in time for picking up our kids from various things. We chatted about our lives, shared outrage over Ukraine, and discussed what originally brought us together, our faith transitions.
At the base of the Y Heidi and I spent some more time chatting until Clarissa called me from someone else’s phone and told me her dance was finished. Abe had told me that he would get her after since Qualtrics is right across the street from Smash Dance, but he had forgotten. It was not a problem since the receptionist was so sweet and watched Clarissa until I got her–and the delight of getting my first phone call ever from Clarissa alone made my day!
After picking up Clarissa we picked up Nana, who treated us all to impossible whoppers that we brought home to Lydia. (She was home because she spent the entire night before reading and was too tired to go to school.) I had to run and clean Basil because he had gotten so muddy on the hike.
Clarissa and my mom spent a lot of time together and Clarissa was so upset when it was time for my mom to go.
Lydia had ballroom and in the evening, and Clarissa and Lydia had practice with Erica, the BYU student who now helps them practice harp on Thursdays.
In the evening Abe, Mary, Eloise and I went to the Utah Symphony at the Noorda. We had no idea what the Noorda was or where it was. It turns out we have a gorgeous performing arts venue less than five minutes from our house! Abe and I literally used to run the track across from it in the mornings and had no idea it was there because it is hidden behind some buildings.
My favorite part of the evening was when the orchestra played the Ukrainian national anthem. I have been obsessively following the news and reading about the situation, and hearing how poignant their anthem is had me in tears. Besides that every single piece played was thrilling–including Shostakovich Symphony no. 5, which they played since some can interpret it as resistance to the Soviet Union. Throughout the evening I kept thinking about the irony of how we had the opportunity to listen to music–even some pieces of possible resistance–while Ukranians are dying for their democracy.
It is painful to be privileged and feel helpless, but it is far more painful to watch your children and husband be slaughtered by a remorseless despot. I keep daydreaming of just flying to Ukraine and fighting alongside the Ukrainians, but then I think that since I do not speak Russian and have no idea what to do with a weapon, I would be more of a hindrance than a help. I have tried so many times to donate to the Ukranian military, but I think Russia has hacked that site. Instead I am donating to World Kitchen, listening to news, books and podcasts nonstop, and hand wringing.