The Twinkling Lights of Salt Lake City

I never claimed to be bright. I also never claimed to be sane.  I do claim, however, to be a keeper of traditions, regardless of what Mother Nature and common sense have to say about it.  I'm not really sure who invented the need for traditions or why it is so important to me to participate in annual activities for the sake of my children's memories, yet I hope one day my boys will look back on their formative years and say, "Yeah, my mom was crazy, but at least it worked for her around the holidays."  Traditions and memories are important to me, although I really struggle with being a modern, trendy mom in the heart of Happy Valley.  The truth is, I will never be one who sews homemade costumes for Halloween, throws Hollywood style parties for Kindergarten graduation, or transforms my house into exotic-themed locations for my boys' birthdays. But I can definitely drive them to Salt Lake City once a year to look at the twinkling Christmas lights.  Heck, I can even drive them twice.  And this year, that is exactly what I did.

Our first outing began as a promising Friday night.  The temperature wasn't below zero, and the skies were clear, signaling to me that this was a perfect opportunity to tour Temple Square.  We usually visit the square the Saturday following Thanksgiving, but this year we had to alter our plans for a reason that presently escapes me.  About halfway between Spanish Fork and Salt Lake, the windshield became spotted from light drops of rain.  That's interesting, I thought.  I don't recall the weatherman predicting rain.  Perhaps it is an isolated storm and we will pass through it quickly.  This proved nothing more than wishful thinking for as we made our way closer to our downtown exit, the drops became larger, heavier, and more forceful upon their landing.  I tried to remain positive because I was determined to press forward with our plans, but I feared my face may have betrayed my enthusiasm.  Nonetheless, once we located a parking spot beneath the new City Creek Center (which reminds me of a fashionable southern California mall), I bundled up the kids and dug out the umbrellas.  No amount of water was going to spoil our fun, although I knew it would wreak havoc on my freshly curled hair.  Perhaps we would have to scratch the traditional family pic since documentation of a well-coiffed, happy family would be tough to accomplish on this tour.

Regardless of how many times I see the square aglow in festive color, I am impressed at the painstaking care it takes to wrap every branch and set every display.  The lighting preparations begin in August of each year and are removed following the New Years holiday.  I often wonder why the lights are not left up year round.  They don't need to be turned on, mind you, but why would any person expend such effort just to have to do it again the following summer?  Of course, I am the type of person who is grateful for any effort when it comes to holiday lighting.  After a five-year hiatus, Mr. T braved the steep slope of our roof, wrestled with cords and clips, and once safely upon the ground, proclaimed the lights were up and there they would stay for eternity.  I was so happy to have lights (crooked though they may be), that I didn't bat an eyelash.  Does it make me less classy to leave the lights hanging all year, or a girl skilled in the art of efficiency and time management? I choose the latter because, hey, those lights are ready and waiting for that flip of a switch the fourth Friday in November.

I love that we can barely see Emerson's eyes peeking beneath his beanie.  We took a short break from the rain and escaped into the main visitor's center only to be met with the aromatic effervescence of wet dog and other colorful forms of stank.  It's always fun to people watch, but sometimes you wonder about all the varieties of people you come in contact with.  The boys enjoyed checking out the child-size model of the temple, and I coerced them into a quick photo by one of the holiday trees (upper right).  There was water on the photo lens so we get that nice dewy effect for free.  Once outside, we stopped to help a family take a group photo, and they were kind enough to return the favor.  Not our best family pic, but now you know what we look like after we go swimming in the lake.

The boys were having so much fun exploring the puddles scattered across the open walkway.  Xavier held Emerson's hand as he led him from puddle to puddle, their sense of freedom and independence expressed in every splash.  I was instantly reminded of Singin' in the Rain; various images of Gene Kelly's singing and dancing flooded my mind as I listened to their squeals of laughter.  This particular section of the grounds is not usually open, and it was nice to view the square from a different angle.  One of the benefits of inclement weather is sparse crowds, so we were able to get up close to many of the displays. I loved the opportunity to snap photos from various angles and experience the temple site from a fresh perspective. 

After the kids were nice and soaked, we decided to call it an evening and dry out in one of our favorite hamburger joints, Five Guys.  It was a fun evening out with my boys, and one I hope they can add to their list of fun family weekends, even if it was a little Griswold style.

A few weeks later, on the weekend following Christmas, we decided to get together with Mr. T's family to celebrate his father's December 30th birthday. After we enjoyed dinner at the Olive Garden in Sandy, we headed north once again to visit the square.  The picture below is one of my favorite views.  Nothing quite compares to a temple lighting the night sky, especially when it appears to cast an ethereal glow that can never be captured in pictures.

This time around, we toured Temple Square with Thaus' sister Apria, her family, and their mother.  Thaus' father opted out of this trip, and I'm sure the freezing temps played no part in his decision.  December was unusually bitter with temperatures hovering near zero.  We spent most of January below zero, but that's a story for another day.  We bundled up the best we could, yet I felt the embrace of frostbite about 15 minutes into our journey.  Fortunately, kids are immune to the wiles of Jack Frost, as they run from exhibit to exhibit and splash in the waterfall like it was the Fourth of July. 

Once again, we can barely see Emerson's eyes beneath the protection of his beanie and blanket. He was the only child not enjoying the festivities and was likely wondering why his parents were so keen on chilling forms of torture.

Among the many nativities honoring countries and cultures throughout the world, the two below were my favorites.  The traditional American scene of Joseph and Mary in the stable is a tender reminder of the first Christmas, and a pre-recorded reading of the biblical story played continuously over the loudspeaker.  Colorful lights highlighted the main characters as the narrator's voice took us back to another time and place.

I also enjoyed the Japanese nativity, as I don't recall having seen it in years past.  Aside from wanting to yell out "Konnichi Wa!" to the li'l statues, my first impression of this group was a cross between PlaySkool characters (1970s style) and Russian nesting dolls. Strange, huh? I thought so, too.  I wondered if Mr. T had experienced nativities similar to this one during his time in Japan.  Unfortunately, I couldn't ask him because a couple members of the group had gone missing at this point, and he was on the hunt for both his mother and a non-invasive tracking device that would alert him to her every move.

An interesting phenomenon about traveling with a group is that when one child has to visit the restroom, they all have to visit the restroom...but not at the same time.  The first child has to finish and when coats, hats, scarves, and gloves are re-administered for departure, another chimes in until you spend 45 minutes making six trips to the bathroom. Mr. T decided to use this time productively and stood in line for 11 hot chocolates.  After burns, spills, and careless maneuvers by overzealous zoobies who kindly allowed me to wear my chocolate home, we did make it outside again, but by that time we decided to call it a night and retreat to warmer venues.  Once we returned to Mr. T's truck, we lit up the oh-so-heavenly butt burners, and when my teeth refrained from smacking each other senseless, I wondered how we ever survived before electric seats o' fire.  It was a great adventure, and one that had Xavier chatting all the way home until we made it out of the parking garage.  The kids fell fast asleep, and I find that the truest test of a trip's success is how quickly children crash from the excitement of it all.  It was nice driving home to the sound of peace and contentment, and I look forward to the time the twinkling lights of Salt Lake City call to us again.