Beneath the Wraps

         I have always hated flies.   Annoying creatures that buzz around my face and land their teeny legs on my skin to share their germs.   My idea of hell consists of non-dying flies.          Mosquitos never bothered me quite so much when I was single.   They loved my brother, Patrick.   I could stand next to him anytime the mosquitos were out and never be bitten.   He could even be doused in an entire can of repellent and I with nothing, and the mosquitos would still go after him.   I had actually convinced myself that mosquitos actually died on my blood.          During the last five years or so, my blood must have improved in taste – or else the mosquitos are just getting more desperate.   I know the Red Cross is.   They had also taken my blood out of desperation.   It’s never been wonderful bloo...

When Jenna goes to school, I have taken the bus with her.   I normally have my backpack which contains my water bottle and a book.   Or at least I try to have a book – so I can read during the ride when Jenna isn’t with me. Jenna and I have ridden the bus all summer.   We’ve gone in a variety of directions.   But we have always started out on the same bus that we have taken when she’s been in school.   Instead of continuing to our normal bus stop near her school, we have been getting off at the college and making a transfer connection to a different bus. Just north of the college is a foot bridge that leads to the junior high across the street.   Jenna has always wanted to cross it.   I figured she’ll have the opportunity to cross it in two years – almost daily for the three years that she attends the junior high. My initial plan was to cross it with her, as I’d need to take a return bus home.   But this morning I learned that is ...

I don’t know when the boys had lost touch with their mother’s family. Roland supposedly had her number on file, and the boys would constantly ask, “When can we see Aunt Judy again?” I figured it should be up to Roland to provide the number, put in the phone call, make an effort to get in touch. It took me two years to realize that if the boys were going to get in touch with Aunt Judy, they would have to come up with another source. I knew we wouldn’t find her under her maiden name and asked them one night to provide me with the first and last name of her husband and then we would look her up. I was surprised that there was only one Van Ball in Layton. I called Judy and introduced myself and learned that her father’s funeral had taken place only three days prior. She took down our name and address and sent out three programs (one for each boy). Even though the family had been out of touch, the three missing grandsons had still been named as honorary pallbearers. ...

Every year my family would go on vacation.   Mom and dad would sit us down and ask us what we’d like to do and we were allowed to give our input.   I think Corey was only eight or nine the year that we decided to go up through Canada.   We decided what Providences we would visit, what sites we would see and the route we would travel.    I think we hit Seattle, Washington the second day and Corey had added seeing the Space Needle to our agenda.   Corey had obviously researched it out.   Apparently he had a map in his head and kept on saying: “We need to do this.”   “We need to do that.” None of us had ever been there before and didn’t know what to expect – but Corey was determined and it was because of him that we were able to explore the shadow room, and the echoed phone, and the pulley and a bunch of cool stuff that we would have not even known was there – but Corey was well read.   He became our tour guide...

Formally titled "Walking in Another’s Shoes (or "What Are the Odds?")" Miranda and her mother live in Arizona.   They had come to Utah to spend the Thanksgiving Holidays.   On Black Friday they found themselves at an Old Navy store in Sandy, Utah.   The two were smiling as someone took their picture, which evidently Miranda immediately posted to her facebook page.   The focus should have been on mom and daughter – to see their happiness.   But for some reason her facebook friends seem more drawn to the woman in the background.   Apparently she wore a sour expression that many “friends” felt the need to poke fun at.            I have not seen the photo myself nor read the hurtful comments.   But I’ve been told that they exist - or did.   And with the given track record of facebook, I have no reason to doubt it.   People can be hurtful and mean and put others down without even knowing them...

Ever watch “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”? Toula’s large extended family reminds me so much of Roland’s side of the family - with a few minor differences.  They’re Hispanic, not Greek.  They are not devout to any particular religion. And instead of a fascintion with Windex, Roland’s mother swears by Vicks Vapor Rub.   Roland well remembers the taste of Vicks.  His mother would smother the inside of each of her children’s mouth.  There is a warning on today’s label NOT to do that.  I don’t know if it was there in Roland’s youth.   I do admit that I have also taken it internally – which I do not recommend.  But it really is the best throat medicine I’ve ever had.  I felt a tinge of excitement the first time I saw Vicks Vapor Syrup.  It is rare to see more than two bottles on the shelf – if at all.  It seems like there are only certain stores that carry it.   The taste is truly NAST...

Our future daughter-in-law has two brothers who are still living.   One lives in Texas where his wife is from.   The other lives in a posh neighborhood at the south and east end of the valley. Yesterday we went to the posh neighborhood to meet Jeanie’s family and to have Thanksgiving dinner.   Biff had asked us to bring rice pudding – which to be honest with you - I have never had as part of a Thanksgiving dinner before.   Roland tried a new recipe (which was really very good by the way) and I found a container to put it in. I must admit that I felt out of place offering this pathetic container as we entered their fancy kitchen and saw dozens of dishes that seemed to make the rice pudding even smaller – shrinking with each passing minute until I felt like what we had contributed to the meal had only a cup of runny rice.   Jenna played with boys (Jeanie's nephews) while Roland and I visited with various family members.   Not only w...

              My aunt Alice was 32 when she announced her engagement to Lynn Brown. Grandma Helen had a problem with it – I think her suspicions must have spread. He was okay.   I tried not to pass judgment on him.   He was an odd fellow.   But in time I could understand.             Of course Corey had his own reasons for not wanting to like him.   I don’t recall how old he was. Nine, I think.   He was already suspicious of any man who wore sunglasses or a beard or who had a bald head.   Uncle Lynn happened to have all three.              His mom gave birth to four boys before him.   I don’t recall how many years are between Lynn and the others – but it seems like it was six or more.   His mom had wanted a girl. She had planned for a girl.   She had picked out ...

Amongst mom’s journals are more photos of – who are these people? Corey scanned the photos he had come across and emailed them to me asking if I might possible be able to identify any of members.   We didn’t actually know if they were photos from our family or my mom’s stepfather and the only grandpa that we ever knew. Uncle Bruce said he’d be coming to town to visit mom. I wasn’t certain what month he would arrive but said he could come to the Memorial Day BBQ if he happened to be in town at that time.   It wasn’t until we were at the BBQ that I learned he had initially thought he’d come in June, but changed plans for the BBQ. I had told Corey to bring the photos to the BBQ and ask Uncle Bruce about them – as he might be the only one with some clue – though Bruce doesn’t seem like the sentimental type – not at all.   Nor does he really know his dad or his dad’s side of the family – which is where it was decided that most of the photos were from.  ...

Mom has always taught her children how to be supportive of one another.   We’ve gone to baby blessings, missionary farewells and homecomings, advancement in the priesthood, plays, sports; I suppose I went to more events when I was single. Sunny is awesome.   She always lets us know ahead of schedule: We’ve got this planned.   Please come.   And we have.   We make plans to fit it into our schedule.   And then there’s my family . . . It’s got to be hard to be one of my siblings if they want to be involved but aren’t given much notice for birthday celebrations, graduations, parties – even our own wedding.   I can’t find the post, but I think I wrote it down somewhere that Roland and I changed our wedding date at least nine times.   It wasn’t that big of an issue for me in the beginning.   After all we had met only three days before he proposed.   THAT IS OUTRAGEOUS!   I have chosen not to go into detail at this time –...

Patrick has always been a game collector.  I think with every passing year, there were always at least two games to be added to the collections. We played lots of games as a family when I was growing up.  Even after Patrick and Sunny were married, we would continue to play.  Some games more than others. Pit is a card game that I don’t actually remember playing since Patrick and Sunny were newly married.  I hadn’t introduced it to my own family until last night when Randy and Carrie had us over for dinner.  For the most part brother pitted against brother.  The bear and the bull both got passed around and ended up in Randy’s hand as I called, “Corner on the Market” and Biff was laughing so hard I thought that he would split.  I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard while playing Pit.  It really is a fun game...

Kayla and I were looking through the TV grid and she asked me if I ever watched a program “Switched at Birth” – as I had missed out on the pilot, I didn’t fully understand what was going on nor understood how all of the characters involved were connected. It wasn’t until just recently that I was able to back up to the beginning and felt sucked into certain characters even though I was unbelievably shaking my head more with each episode as the parents lied to their kids, and the kids lie to the parents, and the parents just don’t understand why their children would lie. They have lied to spare hurt feelings – they say they are protecting the victim – whom becomes more of a victim because they had not been confronted with the truth to begin with.  Only one character who has lied has actually felt guilty about it and does not seem to have a place within her to deceit – and yet as she finds herself around it day after day at home, at school, at work . . . the lyin...