Adventures in Paradise    Volume 2      #6

Kia ora, our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts on time and how we perceive it. For the last week or so, a little green travel clock has been perched on the top of Ward’s roll top desk. This clock is omni present as its face is always visible whenever we sit at the computer. Its constant ticking is a glaring reminder to me that time is passing and it is moving at what seems to be warp speed. That menacing clock face, with its glow-in-the-dark hands, seems even more frightening as Ward has set it to a New Zealand time zone! Every time that I sit down at the computer, that evil little clock reminds me that it is later than I think. With this weeks’ observation of Halloween, I can’t think of a costume more likely to strike dread into the hearts of beleaguered time-challenged adults than to have someone dressed as a clock ring your doorbell. Yikes!

In the early 1970s, Jim Croce wrote a touching song entitled “Time in a Bottle”. As I recall, Jim penned the words after his wife, Ingrid informed him that he was going to be a father. It was the first conversation that Jim would have with his yet unborn son.

If I could save time in a bottle

The first thing that I’d like to do

Is to save every day till eternity passes away

Just to spend time with you

If I could make days last forever

If words could make wishes come true

I’d save every day like a treasure and then

Again, I would spend them with you

But there never seems to be enough time

To do all the things you want to do once you find them

I’ve looked around enough to know

That you’re the one I want to go through time with

If I had a box just for wishes

And dreams that had never come true

The box would be empty, except for the memory of how

They were answered by you

I have always loved that song and it has never meant more to me that it does at the present. Having written about my father in last weeks’ blog, I find that he and my mother and all those who are no longer with me have been upper most in my mind. For some reason, I have been quietly singing Jim Croces’ song to myself and just in the last day or two, I have actually contemplated the meaning of his words.

However much we would like on some occasions, we are never able to save time in a bottle. When I was very young, I used to wish that Christmas day could go on forever. I loved the way that day made me feel. It wasn’t just the gifts, it was the palpable spirit that permeated the season. It seemed perfect. I fantasized that if I could create a world of my own, I would have time stop, or at least slow down on special occasions. I did not appreciate God’s wisdom in actually having time pass. I did not understand that time and the learning that came from days and years of time passing would prove to be invaluable in making progress and growing from the mistakes that would surely be made. What a blessing it is to have time to grow and change.

Jim also talks about eternity passing away, which we know won’t happen and I am grateful for that knowledge as well. I did not have enough earthly time with my father and I am profoundly blessed to know that I have will have an eternity to participate in all of those father-daughter conversations that were left uncompleted in our mortal lives. I can’t wait! Imagine never have to worry about time running out too quickly or not having enough time to complete whatever it was that needed completing. What a beautiful concept is eternity. Those endless days that we will have to spend with each other will be priceless.

So, my box of wishes would be filled to overflowing. It would contain, for starters, a list of all of the people that I have missed spending time with and wish to see. It might contain questions that I forgot to ask or didn’t have time to address. I would want to know that my parents are peaceful, happy and in a good place. My wish list would include meeting for the first time, a grandfather that I never had the opportunity to meet in this life. And as that little green clock keeps ticking and reminding me that I am running out of time to be sitting at this computer, I will be grateful that there will be no time constrains on relationships. Time will not pass away and neither will I.

In 1973, Jim Croce lost his life in a plane crash. His son, Adrain, would have only been about three years old at the time. His song lyrics became strangely prophetic and I can only imagine that Ingrid Croce and her young son would have been wishing that there was a way to uncork a bottle that would release more time for them as a family. As I have thought about this, I hope that they know that Jim still exists and that they will see him again. I know what a comfort this knowledge has been to me. I do not have his permission to quote him, so I won’t reveal the name of the husband who once told his wife that eternity was not a long enough time to spend with her. What a lucky wife!

As always, and now more than ever, we are happy and trying to work hard as we look forward to Monday afternoon when we will board a plane for a very long flight into our new life. Although that flight may seem like an eternity, we are grateful that the twelve-hour flight from San Francisco to Auckland does actually have a beginning and an ending. We are also grateful that our association with each of you has no time limit!

Love, Ward and Susan    Elder and Sister Belliston, about to be serving in the New Zealand, Hamilton mission

Adventures in Paradise     Volume 2    #5


Kia ora, our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts concerning things we may choose to do for the last time. As our departure grows closer and our days here in Salt Lake are numbered, we have become more and more focused not only on what needs to be accomplished, but also on what we wish to experience for the last time. While it's true that we assume that there will be opportunities for continued relationships in our future, our reality is that for now, we are facing a week or so of  "One last times".

There was a sweetness to one last Texas visit with my son, Jared and his wife, Nicole. There will be one last long conversation over lunch with my Salt Lake son, Travis and one last huge Belliston family gathering this weekend. This is where cherished memories are made. Having just mentioned Jared, I am reminded of something he told me long ago when I asked if he owned a camera. He replied that you don't need a camera as that is what memories are for. Often I have watched, fascinated, while someone experiences an entire event while peering through a camera lens, rather than actually seeing. But that, perhaps, is another subject for another blog another time.

Our "One lasts" at this moment are focused on what we would like to experience before leaving our local life for eighteen months. We assume that we will return and be able to pick up just where we left off, but what if that were not the case? What if we really did have a limited time? What if we knew last would really mean last? What direction would we face and how would we choose those things that matter most? Pondering this weighty question has left me thinking a lot about my father and what I learned from him when he truly did have to face his year of  "One lasts".

My father, for his entire adult life, had worked two jobs to support his family . At fifty-eight, he decided to take an early retirement so that he could spend more time with us. In a wonderful coincidence, three of his four children were about to become parents for the first time and we were all over the moon! Working shift-work had sometimes made attending family events difficult, if not impossible while we were growing up and Dad , having missed so much concerning his own children, chose not to have the same experience with the grandchildren that were soon to arrive. So, he turned in his retirement papers, said goodbye to his coworkers and submitted to one last medical exam. He was on his way to a new, slower paced life filled with grandkids and all the possibilities that that particular future held in store for him.

Sadly, that future was not to be. The results of the retirement physical indicated that my father had contracted Leukemia. The test results were grim and my father's new outlook involved coming to terms with news that he never expected to hear. I remember that when I heard those results, I just wanted to take the pain of that knowledge away from him. I wished to shoulder the hurt of his knowing, rather than have him carry that burden himself. His children were devastated and our mother was in shock. The reality was that there was no way that any of us could protect our father from knowing. There was no way that we could make it better. There was no way that we could decide for him how best to experience the time that was left to him. It was ultimately his choice of how to make his last times the most meaningful.

The lesson that I learned from my father is both simple and profound. My dad did not choose one last around-the-world cruise, He did not opt for many of the niceties that some of us long for in our lives. There were no fancy restaurant meals ( we ate together around Mom's kitchen table), no new cars, designer clothes or a bigger, newer home. He did not try to read all of the best-sellers that he hadn't had time to read before. He did do a little duck hunting and I expect, a lot of thinking in those quiet times. My dad chose to live surrounded by his family. He chose to enjoy three beautiful grandchildren. He chose to continue. I would have to check with my siblings. but I don't recall my father ever referring to the last time this would happen or the last time  that would happen. In the end, there was no mad rush to accomplish, there was just a quiet enjoyment and I think, appreciation of the moment. My dad's legacy to me was, in part, to remind me that it's more important to focus on the now than to view that now as the last.

As we were leaving Rarotonga, our dear friends from that mission taught us this lesson in yet another meaningful way. They never say goodbye. They never say that this is the last time that we will be together. They simply say, "See you later". It is the most reassuring thing in the world for me to know that I will see my dad later. I am equally peaceful knowing that I can say the same thing about all of you. There are no "Lasts". There are only "See you laters".

As always, we are happy and working hard towards our departure. We look forward to our new adventure, knowing that this is not our last time or our last communication with you.

Ka kite ano (Maori for see you later)

Love, Ward and Susan   Elder and Sister Belliston, about to be serving in the New Zealand, Hamilton mission

My father was a member of this country's "Greatest Generation"
I love you Dad, and I will see you later.  

Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #4

Adventures in Paradise      Volume 2    #4

Kia ora, our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts on trust and the responsibility of being trusted. Last week, Ward sold his car in preparation for our leaving the country. After the first listing on KSL.com, the results were less than encouraging. The only calls we received were from salesmen who offered to buy the Impala at very “Low-Book” prices.  Although Ward was not focused on making a huge profit from the sale, it was important that we received a fair price as that money was to be used to either rent or purchase a car once we reached New Zealand. At one point, we decided that we might at well just leave home without making a sale and worry about it later.

Last Monday, we answered one last phone call and that call became the inspiration for this week’s blog. A young man, who had read Ward’s ad inquired about the possibility of the car still being available. He did not identify himself, but said that he had seen the listing and understood that the reason for the sale was that we were sending someone on a mission. I made certain that he was not another salesman before I responded that that someone was us and that we were leaving for New Zealand in three weeks. The young man identified himself as Markham and asked about the need for snow tires. That was his only question to me before stating that he would call back and speak with Ward later in the afternoon.

As promised, Markham did call back and he spoke with Ward.  They agreed on a price (have you noticed that here there is no mention of any further car questions?) and then this young man handed the phone to his mother. For those of you who know Ward well, it will come as no surprise that Ward was able to make some sort of almost-instant connection. Markham’s great grandfather had served a mission in New Zealand many years ago and the half hour conversation that took place between Ward and Markham’s mother centered around talk of that beautiful country, mission experiences and people who lived there. Again, there were no questions about the car. How strange is that?

This young man said that he wanted to buy the car and was anxious to close the deal and pick up his new vehicle. He would have come that same evening but Ward had planned to leave town the following morning. It was agreed that the car would be available Thursday and Markham promised to phone. Could I add here, that although it sounded to us as though the car had been sold, it also seemed a little odd since Markham had not seen the car, let alone drive it. Was there something that we were missing? Were Markham’s motives honest and above board? Were we foolish in being so trusting as to indicate to a stranger that we would be leaving our home for eighteen months? Was there something else going on here?

The something else that I could see going on here is that because we were leaving on a mission, Markham trusted us and trusted that all would be well with the car. That kind of trust is a little daunting and we felt the heavy responsibility of that trust. It was important to us that our car be in perfect working order. Although nothing had been promised as to its condition, there was in our opinion, an implicit guarantee on our part. We were prospective missionaries, about to be serving our Heavenly Father, and we could not imagine doing anything that would tarnish that impression. So, Ward had the transmission serviced to make certain that all was well. The oil was changed and the car was lubed. He also washed it and made sure that the interior was clean and tidy. I began to worry that we would be missing something, or that there might be a problem with the car that we were not aware of. I was almost wishing that Markham, who was so trusting, would choose not to buy that car! I lost sleep over this and I worried.

Thursday morning, we met Markham at his credit union. The first time that Markham saw his new car was when Ward drove it into the parking lot. After receiving a check, we followed Markham to his home where license plates on the Impala were removed and the new owner peeked into his car for the first time. I was stunned when he asked me if the car were an automatic! That was only the second inquiry he had made in all of our conversations!

Now, one could argue that Markham was a very inexperienced car buyer. That in fact, could be a very correct statement. One could argue that since he asked no questions, had never driven the car nor had a mechanic look at it, that what ever problems the car might have would be Markham’s own concern. That also could be correct. But we believe that while this young man may have been somewhat inexperienced in car purchasing, we also truly believe that he was very experienced in trusting servants of our Heavenly Father. He trusted us, we believe, because he trusted our calling. Feeling that to be the case how could we be anything by trustworthy in return? Would it be possible on the one hand to be representatives of our Savior, and behave in anything less than a Christ-like manner on the other? We did not want to disappoint!

The weight of being trusted can be very heavy. It is a responsibility that we have been reminded of these last few days. It is one, we are certain, that we will be experiencing in extra measures in the next few months. We are so grateful for the influence and examples that we have in our lives of people who are trying to live in ways that allow us to trust without question. Thank you all for that example. We appreciate that example more than you will ever know. 

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard as we continue to prepare for our new adventure. As a reminder, should you be interested, we are speaking in our Sacrament meeting Sunday, October 26 at 11:00 am. Please plan to join us for lunch at 2:00 pm at our home.

Love, Ward and Susan      Elder and Sister Belliston, about to be serving in the New Zealand Hamilton Mission.

Goodbye, Impala. We know you have found a good home with Markham.

Adventures in Paradise    Volume 2         #3


Kia ora, our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts on language and how it both connects and disconnects us.  Last weekend, during the Saturday morning session of LDS general conference, President Uchtdorf made a comment that made the audience laugh and also left me thinking. Earlier in the session, history was made when a speaker addressed the audience in Cantonese, which is that speaker's  native language. When President Uchtdorf rose to speak, he said that he had been asked if he also would be delivering his remarks in his native tongue, which is German. President Uchtdorf assured everyone that he would not be speaking in German, but then warned that it just might sound like he was! As I mentioned, the audience laughed and I started thinking.

Technically, Ward and I are not going to be learning a foreign language in preparation for our departure to New Zealand. Technically, we will still be speaking and hearing English in Hamilton. But although the words may be in English, the intent of the speaker may seem very alien to us. Our new excellent adventure will require that we learn and embrace "Kiwi English". For a few months, we may feel the need for a translator as we navigate grocery stores, shops, restaurants, freeways, country roads and most importantly, personal conversations with our new acquaintances and our old friends.

I have often said that I have always dreamed of living in a place long enough not to be considered a tourist. My goal was to feel that I was part of the culture. I also wanted to be able to speak in the native language.  That dream came true, as I learned to love the people of the Cook Islands. I learned to embrace umu cooking( underground oven), banana poke and taro. Just two weeks ago, I had an extreme craving for breadfruit! While in the Cooks I was able to respond in Maori to simple questions such as "How are you", and I even learned how to tell Ward to be quiet in Maori by saying "mania nia". For the most part, it was easy to separate the Maori from the English. Living in New Zealand will pose more of a challenge when it comes to understanding the locals and their intent.

The challenge we will face involves hearing ordinary, everyday English words, while reinventing their meanings in our minds. Reinvention will hopefully take place before the embarrassment of misunderstanding sets in. While shopping in a "Dairy", which is a corner or neighborhood shop , we will have to remember that our cracker is their wafer, our cookie is their biscuit and  they call our bar cookies slices . Bangers and mash are sausages and potatoes and our soda pop is their fizzy drink.

Once, while dining in a small cafe in Auckland, I made the mistake of asking for a napkin, only to have the waitress look at me inquisitively. In Kiwi a napkin or nappy is a diaper and I only realized later that I should have requested a serviette. We all know that the chips that accompany fish are really French fries, but would you know that if someone offered to "shout you dinner", you should immediately accept as they are offering to pay? If invited to brekie, arrive in the morning, and tea is the afternoon meal, rather than a hot drink. You must also be aware that in New Zealand restaurants an entree in not a main dish, it is an appetizer or something served at the beginning of the meal, with the the "Main" being served afterwards. At this point, are you experiencing a case of the "Colly wobbles" just trying to remember all of this or is your brain already choc-a-bloc with all of the new information you are storing in it?

Please consider this issue of Adventures in Paradise as your primer for "Kiwi English", and feel free to refer back to it in the coming months as our grasp of the new language sets in. File away the following terms: A New Zealand car park is their version of a parking lot and in it you will find cars with windscreens instead of windshields, bonnets instead of hoods and boots instead of trunks. If your car happens to experience an accident, it has been in a smash and will need the expertise of a fender beater to repair the damage. While you are waiting for the repairs to be completed, instead of hiring a car, you may try traveling on a push bike, but do not wear jandals (flip flops)while you are peddling. If you become hot and tired, you may want to stop for an ice block (popsicle). If that ice block cools you down too much, you might consider donning a jumper to warm up. Don't talk to strangers who appear dodgy and by all means, pay attention to where you are going because you don't want to end up in the wop wops (middle of nowhere) and realize that you are lost. Please, please remember to drive or ride on the right side of the road, which in New Zealand is the left side. Just remember that the left side is the right side.

We are keen to start our new adventure and hope that we have heaps of visitors. Time is short, as we only have eighteen sleeps before we enter the MTC, so we are moving as quickly as we can. Did I mention that New Zealand is also the home of Hobbits and glow worms? Please make your reservations early for the Belliston Hotel, er I mean Belliston flat or perhaps you could call it our crib, if you prefer. Crib is the term used to describe a holiday home, but we are not promising anything too fancy. By the way, if Ward starts teasing or joking with you, simply tell him to "get off the grass", which is a polite way of saying "stop pulling my leg". Please consider all of this to be true, not just a load of "cods wallop" and know that we will be looking forward to making  reservations for you at your earliest convenience. Remember that the early bird gets the glow worm! Once reservations are made, we will reply by saying "Good on ya mate", and we will eagerly await your arrival in the land of the "Long White Cloud".

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard as we begin packing for our further adventures in paradise. We hope that you will continue to join us and  please know that if you decide to visit, we will be happy to serve you a hearty brekie of bangers and mash and possibly even shout you dinner!

Love Ward and Susan,  Elder and Sister Belliston about to be serving in the New Zealand, Hamilton mission




Our last trip to New Zealand in April left us wishing for more. Subtitles and explanations are provided.

Ward is standing at the very most northern tip of the north island, Cape Reinga.  It's where the Pacific ocean and the Tasman sea meet. It is beautiful and peaceful.

On one side of the rocks is the Tasman Sea and on the other is the Pacific Ocean. It is breathtaking.

I am in love with lighthouses and this one on the north island at Cape Reinga is my new favorite.

 The north island is very green and reminds me of Ireland. Although sheep are still in abundance (see the little white dots in the photo) raising beef is now the larger business. New Zealand Corned Beef is delicious and very popular with the Polynesians. Looking at one of the New Zealand heads of beef, I tried to imagine just how many cans of corned beef one cow could provide! 

There were many lovely sunsets on the north island. New Zealand is called the "Land of the Long White Clouds". The clouds always seemed to hug the mountain tops.

 The Polynesians craft leis out of this flower, as it comes in many colors. I never did learn to pronounce the name correctly:   FRANGIPANI

When I first heard the term "All Blacks", I was taken aback. Now I know that it is the name of  New Zealand's national rugby team and the name refers to the color of their uniforms. We have become fans, just like the rest of the country.

Well, here is another name that is difficult to pronounce. But it's the sign in the background that I wanted to point out. It doesn't say entrance, it says, "Way In".  And if you were getting off the train, another sign would tell you to "Mind the Gap".

 While looking over this beautiful spot, I had hopes of sharing it with others. Please consider paying us a visit and seeing all of this for yourselves! 

Adventures in Paradise   Volume 2   #2

Kia ora, our excellent adventure continues with thoughts about something that Ward's father, Lester, used to say. When anyone was ill, hurting or just not feeling well, Lester used to tell them that, "It will feel better when it stops hurting".  I have heard that same phrase from Ward over and over again in our eight years of marriage. It is actually a much longer time, if you count our years of dating and two (yes that's what I said) engagements. I have to admit, that I was not always happy to hear Ward tell me that I would feel better later, because I was not feeling better at that moment and I wanted a little sympathy. I thought that little phrase was a touch dismissive and to be honest, I was tired of hearing it. The events of the past month, however, have put everything into a little different perspective, and now I am the one telling Ward that it will feel better when it stops hurting and I really mean it.

When we posted the photo in last week's blog, I noticed that Ward did not appear to be his usual perky self. There was something missing. He looked weary. There was a sadness surrounding his eyes. That photo was taken two days after the events that I am going to share.  I have always felt that you can tell if someone is suffering by looking into their eyes and I was struck by the fact that I could see that a change had occurred in his countenance. So, if any of the rest of you noticed that same change, I thought that I would relate the events of our last two weeks.

Several weeks ago, I noticed that something looked odd about one of Ward's ears. I begged him to have it checked out and when begging did not did not work, I threatened with the only ammunition that I had at hand. I told him that we were not proceeding with plans for the mission unless he saw a doctor. That did it! Ward went to see his niece, Dr Sharlene Minor. Sharlene agreed with me that the ear needed to be examined. She suggested seeing a dermatologist. A doctor's opinion trumps a wife's concerns every time! To make a long story shorter, Ward was diagnosed with Basal-cell carcinoma.in his right ear. As we understand it, this is a relatively common cancer, and when caught early, the patient will make a full recovery. I truly believe that as nervous as he was about the cancer, Ward was even more concerned that the situation could mean a delay of our mission or even worse, a cancellation. He was beside himself. I might add here, that Ward is not ever, in any circumstance, the best of patients, and the worry over the effect that this might have on "His Mission", made him even less endearing as patients go.

Ward was worried and frightened. It was now my responsibility to assure him that it really would feel better when it stopped hurting. With the timing being a concern, we are amazed by how quickly we were able to make an appointment for him and how quickly the lab tests were returned. We are indebted to Dr. Amy Curtis for insisting that the lab results be returned quickly. Dr. Curtis is not of our faith, but appreciated the importance of our time constraints. We are grateful to Megan at Dr. Curtis' office for scheduling Ward's surgery the very next day following the return of the lab results . And we feel very fortunate that  one of the few doctors in Salt Lake who would be best able to perform the surgery and the accompanying skin grafting was willing to fit us into his busy schedule on that same day! We sense that perhaps, Dr. Michael Hinckley, (grandson of President Hinckley) understood our concern over timing and was willing to help us.

We are also grateful for caring nurses and doctors who dedicate their lives to helping others. We are grateful for the perfect timing that we have experienced and for the concern that friends and family have shown to Ward. This concern is not an isolated case and we are also grateful for the people who surround us on a daily basis. I am grateful that Ward's father, Lester, was wise enough to know that there will be times for all of us when the hurting will disappear and we will truly feel better.

Speaking of feeling better, I would like to share a humorous side note with you. As I mentioned, Ward is not the easiest patient and sometimes, to say that he over reacts, may be an understatement. During the procedure, I could see that Ward was becoming increasingly agitated and I asked Doctor Hinckley if he could administer something that would calm Ward down. Eventually Ward fell asleep, but woke up long enough to sing one chorus of "Blue Hawaii" and an entire rendition of "Little Grass Shack". complete with hand gestures! Ward says that he has no memory of this, but both Dr. Hinckley and his surgical nurse thanked us for entertaining them. Actually, Dr. Hinckley was not even in the room at the moment of  Ward's performance, as he was attending to another patient. The fact that the doctor was able to hear Ward in an adjoining room makes me think that the entire office staff was entertained as well! We thanked our doctor and our doctor thanked us for a very memorable afternoon. All's well that ends well.

Ward has been given a clean bill of health and we will be leaving on schedule. We are grateful. Thank you, Lester, for reminding us once again how it  is possible to be grateful even while we are hurting. We are grateful for the knowledge that things will get better.  We are also grateful for the lessons we have learned or relearned this week. It is truly amazing to realize how much we have to be grateful for, even when circumstances are less than ideal for us. As always, we are thinking of all of you and are grateful for the place you hold in our hearts.

P.S. We will be very grateful if you will please be aware of your sun exposure and always, always use sun screen!

Love, Ward and Susan     Elder and Sister Belliston about to be serving in the New Zealand, Hamilton Mission

Our grateful, but weary patient.