Cousin in the Pool

Do you have time for a really good story?  It's long, but, believe me, it's worth the read . . .especially if you are a descendant of Andreas Peterson.  It's time I finally write it and get it posted.  I have been hesitant because it isn't just my story, and I didn't want to publish something that Paul might not be comfortable with.  But I think it is time.   I've been working on it for three years.   I had an experience this week that made me realize that this is truly a tender mercy (a term I feel is overused, but this is exactly what this is) or even a miracle and it's time to record it.  It all started three years ago at the pool where I swim and exercise.  Here is what I wrote about it then.  It is the beginning of this remarkable story:
May, 2012
Every once in a while you have an awakening experience- one that awakens you to the remembrance of how mindful your Heavenly Father is of you and how thin the veil is.  I had one of those this week.  This is an amazing experience to me.  Especially you who are descendants of Andreas Peterson will be very interested in this story. I need to give some background first.  You may remember a post I did about a man who I "raced" at the pool and his back- handed compliment "I get the idea you used to be athletic."  That was Paul.  That was my first meeting of Paul Johnson, though I didn't know his name then.  Then you may remember another couple of posts I did about Nedje.  I met Nedje in the pool and recentlly attended her concert.  Well, Nedje also made friends with Paul at the pool last year.  Paul was very kind and helpful to her.  He took her out to Tuachan, where, being the only ones there, she did an impromptu concert for him on the outdoor Tuachan stage.  He also took her to the college and introduced her to people in the music department.  He has been very helpful to Nedje, trying to help her fulfill her dreams.  Paul was also in attendance at Nedje's concert.  He and I visited for awhile after and I found him to be very kind, intelligent and interesting. That was Sunday evening.
   The next Tuesday, May 8th, the Keynotes had two performances.  At the 2^nd one- St. George Care center-, there was a gentleman who looked very much like Paul.  I went straight from there to the pool.  Paul was there, swimming laps.  When I got in the pool, he came over and talked to me.  We visited again about Nedje’s concert, then I asked him if he had a relative in St. George Care Center because there was a man there that looked like him.  He then said two very important things:  1) No, he did not have a relative in a care center here, but his father is in a care center in Logan.  And 2) Many men of Swedish descent look like him- tall, thin, even comb their hair the same.     "You are from Logan and are of Swedish descent?" I asked.   "Yes."  So, I told him I was too.  I then talked about  my great -grandfather and how he served three missions in Sweden and was mission president.  He asked if he served with Anthon Lund.  “That sounds really familiar.”  He said,  “My grandfather also served two missions to Sweden.  I’m sure our grandfathers knew each other!”  I then talked about how he left Inga, his wife to serve the mission.  Two of their little ones died while he was gone.   He then said, “We’re talking about the same man!  Andreas Peterson?” " Yes!" We’re cousins!!!  He is Andreas’ great- grandson, I’m Andreas’ great- granddaughter.   Paul is a descendent of Anthony, who they called Tony.  I'm a descendent of Charles O.  Charles was the oldest child in Andreas' family.  Tony was the next to youngest.  Tony and Charles owned the shoe store in Logan together.
  So Paul and I had a remarkable conversation.  Paul's mother was Tony's daughter, so Andreas is his great- grandfather. Andreas was my mother's grandfather, so Andreas is also my great- grandfather. Okay, and this part will be harder to tell:  Our feelings about Andreas and his life of service were entirely different.  I honor Andreas; Paul is battling resenting him.  Resenting him and the church.  I had been vaguely aware of Tony's struggles.  He was an alcoholic and had many problems.  He was bitter toward the church and his father for "deserting" the family, leaving Inga in a foreign country where she couldn't even speak the language, and then having the babies die.  Tony and his father did not get along.  They "butted heads," as Paul put it.  Andreas wanted him to be a doctor and bring honor to the family.  Tony wanted to be a horticulturist.  He loved to have his hands in the dirt and make things grow. He ended up in the shoe business with Charles
Paul said, "I loved Aunt Libby."  As a child, when his own family was in turmoil, he would go to Aunt Libby's house.  He said she would listen to him and hug him and tell him everything would be okay.  "Aunt Libby" was my grandma.  I told him what it meant to me to hear him speak of my Grandma like that.  My memories of my Grandma were not of warmth or hugging.  It was so nice to hear that that was part of her and that she helped a little boy through a difficult time.
There was more.  But as I've reflected on this experience this last week, it's made me realize how important the legacy we pass on to our family is.  Our attitudes and our actions are being observed and internalized by our families, whether we want them to be or not.  Two generations later, a 70 year old man is still struggling and tortured by the actions and attitudes of his grandfather.
I am at peace, as my mother was, as she honored Andreas.
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Paul and I continued to run into each other at the pool occasionally.  We were always so glad to see each other, and we would always visit.  I thought about him often.  So, finally, on December 19th, 2013, I did something about the promptings I had been feeling.  Here is what I wrote in my weekly update to my family about what happened:
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December, 19, 2013

  A year and a half ago, I met a cousin (Paul Johnson) in the pool.  You may remember that.  The circumstances that let us discover our relation were just too bizarre to even consider they were a coincidence.  I felt then that Paul was troubled and needed to know Andreas Peterson- our common ancestor.  His view of him was negative- I’m sure inherited from his grandfather and mother.  Since that time, I’ve had a nagging feeling that I should copy some of Andreas’ journal and give it to him.  I just kept ignoring the promptings.  But I decided Christmas would be the perfect time.  So I got out the journals and skimmed and read many passages and chose some that I felt would reveal Andreas’s character.  I copied them and wrapped them nicely and made a nice card.  I rarely see Paul any more, though we are both regulars at the gym.  I go in the morning and he goes in the early afternoon.  So on Thursday, the 19^th, I decided to go later.  All morning I prayed he would be there.  Sure enough, when I walked into the indoor pool at about 1, he was there, swimming laps.  I greeted him and told him I had prayed him there.  I then said I had a gift for him and please don’t leave without it.  Then I started swimming.  After swimming just a few laps, he asked if this would be a good time.  I think he was extremely curious about what I was giving him.  So we both got out of the pool and I gave him the gift.  Inside, I enclosed a letter explaining my actions.  He didn’t read that then, but I briefly explained what it was.  He was very touched.  It was a little awkward with us both dripping wet, opening a gift, and then hugging poolside, with curious onlookers wondering what the heck was going on.  I hope it brightened his Christmas and gave him peace.

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I continued to pray for Paul when I would think about him- hoping he would find peace in his life.  I rarely see him, but when I do, we always greet each joyously and he has told me more than once that he can see a light around me and feel my love.  Being a kind of shy Norwegian/ Swede, that's really quite remarkable.

You can only imagine my joy when, on Monday of this week, I was serving in the temple.  I was assigned to stand at a certain place in the hall and guide people as needed.  I looked up, and there was Paul, coming down from the Celestial Room.  Really?  We gave each other a big hug.  I could see light and joy in his face.  He was in the temple!!!!  I can't even express the joy I felt.  I couldn't restrain the tears.  We both commented that this is what it will be like when we meet all of our ancestors and cousins on the other side.  I have tears streaming down my face as I write this, remembering.  The peace I have prayed for for Paul was there- right on his face!  When my granddaughter, Brielle was about two years old, she loved the song,"I Love to See the Temple."  She always ended the song about the temple, "This is my secret beauty." instead of "this is my sacred duty."  I like her version better, and it certainly applies here.  Paul's "temple face" was his secret beauty!   He couldn't have looked more beautiful!

This, to me, is a true miracle.  We (Paul and I) feel that our ancestors have worked things out on the  other side, and arranged that meeting three years ago, and have continued to prompt and encourage us, continuing to help us meet occasionally.  I hope this is not the end of the story.