Memories of Louise

I'll start this page with some of Louise's memories. Please contribute your own stories, prose, poems, observations......

On Being an Outsider
Being a non-Mormon in a Mormon world: this was the situation in which each of the children and most of the grandchildren of Jim and Laura Jeppesen found themselves. It was not a happy situation, especially for a child. For me, it resulted in self-deception, double standards, adjustments, and working out ways to find self-acceptance and self- esteem. It helped that I was extroverted, that I was a high achiever in school, and that I was good in something else as well, something that was valued by the local citizens for their youth. I had no skills in school sports. I couldn’t hit, throw, catch or kick a ball. But I was good in music, so I was able to participate in the marching band, little ensembles and the dance orchestra, and to sing in choruses or alone. These were ways for me to be a part of the group. They helped me deal with feeling different from my friends, and they gave me reasons for finding some value in myself. To this day I value them highly, although I no longer see them as defining what is acceptable in me.

The experience of being an outsider was hurtful and damaging. It made me form walls and barricades around myself, to keep others from discovering that I was somehow different from them, and rejecting me because of it. More damaging, even, was the effect of making me feel that somehow I was better than others because I was different. I did not even recognize this fallacy and its absurdity until circumstances forced me to make a “searching and thorough moral inventory” of myself ,once I became a mature adult.

Reflections/Darkness and Light

I fear that the time of being aware and fully conscious will be much more brief than I thought. It looks like the fade–out is closer than I had expected. I envision myself becoming more and more lethargic and vacant, anticipating that my ability to react will just evaporate. I imagine trying to listen and to pay attention, struggling to participate intelligently or energetically, but unable to pull myself out of the mire. I foresee the advanced stage beginning.

I do not feel cheated. I am seventy-four years old, and have had a full, wonderful life, with a mixture of tragedies and blessings like everyone else. I am grateful for it all. I have even been fortunate enough to see many of my past mistakes and make changes, improvements, amends. I have enjoyed the work-path I chose, loved it, in fact, and I believe that I have been able to be instrumental in helping others through my work. From the neck down, my health is generally very good. I have lived many places and traveled to others. Only a few years ago, I fulfilled a long-held desire to visit Macchu Pichu. I was able to ski until well into my sixties. My five children are good people and treat me with kindness and generosity. I feel grateful for all of these things, but still, I feel sad to anticipate the loss of knowing. How can I reconcile myself to this reality, and accept it with some kind of grace?

Author: Louise Longo