Finding Time for Family Portraits

          My mom had always made arrangements for family portraits each year – not that big of a deal when we were living at home.  But after my first brother got married and started having children of his own, and mom’s grown children all had jobs – the portrait scheduling thing became more of a challenge while trying to work it around everybody’s personal schedule.

          It’s funny – because I don’t recall any family photos with mom or dad’s siblings and their posterity – though we attempted at least a few times on my dad’s side.  I think there are at least two photographs – but I have no idea whose possession they ended up being in.  I haven’t actually seen them since the years they were taken. 

          I don’t know when it was that I took over the scheduling of trying to get everybody at the same location at the same time.  Not that I did a terribly great job.  The last time that we did a family picture with my sibs and our posterity was a week before Jenna turned one. 

          I used to keep the photo by the door of our old house.  Everytime Bill (my brother-in-law/photographer that I mention here) would say that we were long overdue for an updated portrait.  Well yeah.

          That’s just my side of the family.  Six weeks after the family photo with my sibs and posterity, we went back east to see Roland’s brother get married.  Roland and all three sisters were there, and we did get a shot of mom and her five children – but that was the extent of it.  We hadn’t tried posing the entire family clan – not that the entire clan was present.

          We did get pictures of a bunch of us when we went to Tucson for his mother’s birthday mentioned in this post but still not the entire gang was there.  I haven’t actually met all of his family.

          Most of the family photos we have are of my family.  They are the ones in all the wedding photos and any additional family portraits we may have taken.

          The last intermediate family picture we had taken was when Jenna was four.  It was taken less than a week before Tony left for Brazil.  The following year Randy left for Portugal.  And now I have a nephew serving in Canada (all LDS missions by the way)

          So this week I have all three of the boys  in Utah and still found myself working around schedules in order to get some pictures done and asked Bill if he’d be able to take family pictures this morning before my first granddaughter (first grandchild) was blessed.  We were still missing three from my extended family.  My nephew (though his family had a large cut out of Mitt Romney with my nephew’s face glued over Mitt’s), my brother Corey and his spouse.  (Wish I would have thought of getting cut outs for them).

          I realized that not only is it harder to schedule, but to actually position everybody and keep them laughing though the position is causing them pain or the baby is getting heavy or running out of shot or what have you.  I am so grateful for my brother-in-law’s willingness to take the time to take our photos – unfortunately he was not in many of them because of trying to get the perfect expressions from our rather large group. There were eighteen of us plus the cut out plus the two that may be photo shopped in with us.  That would be awesome. 

          That’s still not as large as mom’sneighbors (our second family)  who have roughly 35 individuals to work with.  That’s a lot of people.  A lot more schedules to work around.  I don’t know how long it’s been since their last family portrait.  I don’t think they actually are able to get their entire clan together each year – but I could be wrong. 

          I’m grateful to be able to preserve memories through photographs and for the love and support my family has shown one another and working with me to make it possible.  Thank you all.  And thank you Bill!

Journal Jars

I once attended a Relief Society enrichment meeting where we made “journal jars”.  What is a “journal jar”? you may ask.  It is a jar containing questions that will hopefully provoke thought to get written answers one may record in his or her journal. 

Questions like:

“Do you remember your grandparents?  What special memories do you have?”

          “Did you have a favorite radio or TV show as a child?”

          “Tell about the changes you have seen in your lifetime: society in general, technology, fashion, politics, laws, inventions, etc.”

          Jenna absolutely LOVES to explore these questions – or my answers rather.  Often she can answer for herself, but many ask for detail on things that she hasn’t experienced yet such as marriage, parenting, high school, dating, etc.

          The idea of the journal jar is to record memories.  But Jenna loves to use it as a conversation piece or in place of playing games.  And I like that she likes it.

Some of the Places where my Mind takes me

          It’s time to get my hair cut – or at least thinned out.  I feel like I have a heavy scarf draped over the back of my neck.  I have been pulling it back – but some days just don’t seem to matter.

          We’re down to just one car.  Jenna and I have to get up in the morning to leave by 6:30 to take Roland to work.  Jenna stays in her pajamas, wears slippers out to the car, buckles herself in, lies down and throws a blanket over herself. 

          Roland turns the heater on – I usually turn my side down before we arrive to his work (one nice feature which still exists on the car – passenger and driver can adjust to different temperatures) I shut the heater off before completing the journey home.

          We return home one hour before I take Jenna to school.  By that time I have the A/C on.

          Biff and Roland put up the A/C in our living room the other night (on Biff’s birthday actually). We’re expecting rain now.  It always rains after we put up the A/C.  Though yesterday seemed unbearably hot, it’s been quite overcast today.  I see several people out in their yards working – pulling weeds, planting.

          I went out to see my mom.  We used to be rivals when we played word games like Scrabble or Upwords.  Mom was a sore loser, but even a more prideful winner.  It was all in fun. 

         

          That was then.  I continue to play games with her in order to stimulate her brain, but there is really no point in keeping score anymore.  No longer do we share our playful competiveness.   She seems to have lost interest in how to keep score and doesn’t bother looking for points so much as just getting rid of her letters. 

          Seems I need to work harder at getting her to smile or understand a joke.  And we have all repeated ourselves almost as often as she has.  Very little seems to stick with her anymore.  This change is hard on everybody.  And there are some of us who have questioned as to how much longer until I am in her shoes.  (I often wonder if I’ll be there tomorrow – for real)

          I’ve been searching through tapes and taking glimpses of home movies – not really that far in the past.  My mom is more put together and aware of things even just a few years ago more so than now.

          My niece and her husband live in the basement.  They don’t have their own private entrance.  Seems “grandma” is forever locking them out.  And so my niece has learned to always have her keys on her – even if she is just in the yard.

          Just as the weather changes, so do our lives.  Sometimes we can revisit where we were – but often we’re forced to move on or ahead and don’t have the capability of revisiting – not even in photographs.

So Much to Be Grateful for

          This month started off with a funeral.  Roland’s eldest sister had passed away unexpectedly.  But our final moments with her were spectacular.  We had gone to visit the family to celebrate mom’s birthday (which I have mentioned in an earlier post.) 

               

We are all so much grateful that Roland was able to return and that we have been able to meet our expenses – though it has set us back in other ways.  We have been blessed.

And yesterday represented new life as Jenna entered into the waters of baptism.  Something she had been looking forward to for well over five months, as we have attended several others.  She didn’t think it fair that all her friends were getting baptized before she was – although that hasn’t really been the case.  (Have I mentioned that my little girl is quite the drama queen?)

The Spanish ward was in charge of the program.  The opening hymn was “Choose the Right” which was sung in English. The opening prayer and first talk were given in Spanish – with translator for the talk.

Ironically, Jenna just happens to be learning Spanish with her schooling.  Each morning she spends the first three hours receiving instructions in Spanish – so she didn’t really need the translation.  She understood the talk.  And I watched her listen with understanding.  And it was marvelous.

Her oldest brother, Biff, baptized her.  What a great experience for both of them, as he had never had the honoring of performing a baptism before.

I assisted Jenna with getting dressed while Roland shuffled those in attendance to another room (there were four primary baptisms for four different wards;  You may wish to refer to this post  if the words ward and primary don’t make sense to you) and introduced two of Jenna’s uncles who I had asked to sing a few primary numbers in order to maintain the Spirit.

A book of Jenna’s memoirs was passed around so that her friends and family could add their thoughts and advice.  And after everyone was accounted for (Biff had taken a little longer at changing and getting to where the rest of us were) a circle of priesthood holders stood around her, and Randy confirmed her a member of the Church.

It was a beautiful ceremony.  And I am so grateful for the outcome.  And for the strong Spirit that we all felt.

Next week we have a wedding.  Busy month.  And it has just barely started.

Make Every Second Count: You just Never Know

          Two weeks ago we left the state to be with Roland’s family.  We spent most of Friday driving, checked into a room and spent two days there.

          We didn’t meet up with the family until after 4:00 pm on Saturday.  Roland and his brother had both come from out of state to celebrate their mom’s 85^th birthday.

          The eldest sister had actually sent the invitations out in January.  We had told her repeatedly that we just didn’t have the finances.  And just the week prior, we didn’t even have reliable transportation.  We ended up borrowing my mom’s car and our expenses were paid for.

          There was Elvis, and dancing, and hugs, and kisses and a tremendous surprise.  Roland’s mom had an exceptional birthday.  Cameras went off in all directions.  I would guess over 600 flashes – but that’s just a guess. 

          The next morning we posed mom and four of her five children (there was one who was unable to attend) before Roland’s brother and his wife returned to their home state.  More pictures were taken with I don’t know how many cameras.  It is nice to have those memories.  Especially now.

          Last night the family called to tell us of Roland’s older sister’s passing.  It was so unexpected.  I am still bewildered over the news.  Who knew that all of those pictures would show her in her final moments?  Wonderful, happy photographs of the very last memories we will have of her.

          We’d gone down visit before.  Maybe every other year.  Twice to bring mom back for a visit, once for the funeral of Roland’s uncle. 

          I’ve been to a lot of funerals during my lifetime.  Most have been LDS.  I like LDS funerals.  I can’t say the same for non LDS. I think I’ve been to about five that have been of another denomination.  And with each of them it has felt cold and so non-personal to me.  For it seems that anyone could be lying in that casket and the sermon would be exactly the same.

          Not all LDS funerals leave one feeling good about the person or the way the arrangements were made – but for the most part (at least in my experience) LDS funerals are beautiful and filled with love and devotion.  For the most part, even if you may not be familiar with the deceased, by the time the services end, you will know something.

          We sat around for two hours at Uncle Gil’s.  There was a small amount of hushed visiting and family members taking a break for their smokes and returning to the mostly empty pews.

          With most LDS funerals I have attended, there is a viewing beforehand.  And there has always been a line.

          The services are usually done by friends or family members – remembering and honoring those that have passed on.

          The Relief Society (women’s organization) rallies around the family – often providing the family with a meal for after the services.

          Roland’s family doesn’t have any of that.  They could.  But choose not to.  For Uncle Gil they hired a preacher, a minister, a man of the cloth – I actually don’t know what his title was.  A handsome sum of money was donated by the family members who might attend on Christmas and Easter (if that)  It felt as though they were trying to buy Uncle Gil’s way into heaven.

          I think the family would find a lot more comfort if they were to allow Roland and myself to conduct – because we would honor his sister by holding the kind of funeral that I am used to attending.

          I’ve given talks at funerals before.  I spoke at my great-grandmothers, my grandma’s and my dad’s.  I thought my dad’s was wonderful.  I talked a bit about daddy’s childhood and how he had met my mom.  Patrick took over with honoring him as a family man. 

          Corey was out of the country at the time.  We played a message that he had recorded prior to my father’s death.  And Kayla (who was in her last year at high school) sang “My Father’s Eyes” There was music.  It was a really nice service.

          After Bill’s (my brother-in-law) first wife died, I learned things about her that I hadn’t known before her passing. There were some really nice talks at that one as well.

          There are many LDS funerals that seem to go on and on – but as a whole, I think they are nice tributes and find a lot more comfort in them than these “impersonal sermons” as I call them.  I just don’t find the same sense of peace that I do with LDS funerals.

          We are still awaiting details.  But these are my thoughts at this time.  

Triggers and the Mighty Thorn

I have a friend named Heather (actual name) who has this blog  in which she will often ask questions at the end of her posts.  Three of my answers have been so weighed with detail that I answered by email rather than leave a comment on the post, as some of my comments turn out to be larger than the post itself.

 The first question I remember actually sending an email for was when she asked, “What are your triggers?”  At first I couldn’t think of one.  It was ten days before the Christmas tree skirt came out.  There was my trigger.  A horrible memory that I should just get rid of. And yet it’s a busy time of year and replacing the tree skirt is never a priority – and it’s probably petty of me to feel the need to replace it anyway.

Before you can understand the trigger itself, you’ll need some background.

          All too soon after the boys’ mother passed, Roland decided to marry Satan’s sister.  In addition to our three boys and daughter, my husband has two other girls, Francis and Pamprin – whom I wasn’t even allowed to meet until over a year after Roland and I had been married.   

After another two year battle in court, we were finally able to have them for overnight visits – but not every other week.  Roland’s ex did everything in her power to sabotage the visits.  I had so many nicknames for her: the greedy snake, Malificent, Adolf Hitler, the peroxide cow (which in itself is an insult to all cows everywhere) and Satan’s spawn to name a few. 

I sent the following email to Heather:

“The thing that triggers me is the Christmas tree skirt.  The emotions are buried within me when the skirt and tree are put away - but each year we decorate I growl inside. 

“I bought the skirt the same year that Roland's pampered princess spent the holidays with us. It wasn't totally her fault that she was such a brat - her deranged mother catered to her every need - often at the expense of her older sister - whom they both treated like a pack mule.

“I think I actually invited Pamprin to go with me - or rather gave her a choice - she could go with me or stay home with Tony (their absolute favorite brother and probably the only reason they agreed to visitations in the first place) She chose to stay.

So I left the girls with Tony - Jenna included. Jenna was less than a year old.”

“The handyman had come to finish up in the bathroom.  Pamprin was "scared" - called her deranged mother the second I left the house I'm sure.  Maleficent (my nickname for Roland's ex) in turn called the sheriff’s department - who pulled up to our house the same time I did.  I was so mad.  I still get upset about it [whenever I see the skirt].  Maleficent has been a thorn in our side for years.  I have many wicked and unpleasant thoughts because of her interference.  (I think she is bi-polar - for real)”

          Recent news stories about the deranged Josh Powell (one of many stories is found here) triggers up anger to a less-than perfect system – one that failed Charlie and Braden Powell – the same one that awarded custody to Malificent who has robbed the girls of their minds.  She has not attempted to blow up herself or the girls – too greedy.  Needs them so that she has something to leverage with.

I need to get over it – I know.  I should be more compassionate towards her.  She needs professional help.  But it is the girls who suffer the most. 

That is actually another reason why my blog gives a false identity.  Malificent will take me to court if she should ever read my blog and figure it out.  She’s one of those sue happy psychopaths – who often will get her way as the system continues to fail those who are really trying or need protecting. 

I’m not even sure why I have created this post.  It’s not pleasant to read or look at.  It is something that I need to overcome.  Perhaps if I post it for the whole world to see it will provide me some sense of relief.  Some sort of goal that I need to set for myself. Only time will tell.