The Beginning

The Most Peaceful Place I Know

As an adult I have a great appreciation for the experiences of my youth. I often think back to the days I spent at my grandparents’ home in Richmond, Utah. The peace I felt in Richmond throughout my childhood guided me in one of the biggest decisions I would ever have to make.

When I was five months pregnant with my second child, I found out my baby was going to die. I knew I would only have a short time with him after he was born and I wanted to spend every minute I could showing him how much I loved him. When he died, I wanted him to be buried in a place I knew I would always come back to no matter where my life took me. My first and only thought was Richmond. I remembered how beautiful it was and the feelings of peace I had when I was there, and I knew that was the place my baby should be laid to rest.

The memories of Richmond began with my grandparents. They lived in the small community their entire lives. My Grandpa Smith built his home two acres south of his parents’ house. Family roots in the town run deep in Richmond, but this was not the sole reason for my appreciation of the area. My experiences as a child molded my outlook on life, and navigated decisions I have made from where I live to how I want to raise my children.

Every summer when I was a child I stayed with my grandparents for a week. I remember waking up in the morning in the “west room” with the window open and the morning breeze blowing the curtains. I would sit up in my bed and look out the window at the white fence broken up by red wagon wheels. Beyond the fence were the pasture and the barn where the calves grazed. Looking past the barn I could see fields neatly divided into sections for farming. Even at a young age I loved the view from the window and looked forward waking up in such a beautiful place.

My days in Richmond were filled with work, play, and exploration. The sounds of the small country town were different from the city. Sometimes I would lay on the grass in my grandparents’ yard, close my eyes, and listen to the sounds of the birds and the stillness of country life.

As evening approached, I loved to watch the sunset from the back porch. Some of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen were as a child in Richmond. I don’t really remember the details of the sunsets as much as the over whelming feeling of appreciation I had.

As I grew older, my focus in Richmond changed. I still loved to visit my grandparents and I would still wake up early in the morning and look out the window in the “west room”. But, instead of breakfast I would put on my running cloths and run the miles of uninhabited roads that made up the town. Richmond is set on a hill and as I looked out over the valley of farmland I wanted to take the beauty into my soul and carry it with me. I always felt like Richmond was a sanctuary from the fast pace and conflicts of the city and drew me there time and time again.

The adult decisions I am frequently confronted with often turn my thoughts to the most peaceful place I know, Richmond. The death of my baby was no exception. My son, Aron, now lies in the Richmond cemetery next to my grandparents, an uncle, and many other relatives. He has a great view of the beautiful sunsets that I frequently pondered in my youth. In Richmond I know his body rests in a place of peace and safety and no matter how much time passes and changes occur in my life, I will be forever drawn to Richmond as a place of my past, present, and future.