More Buses Needed

Yesterday was the first day of school this school year. Before the bus pulled up to the curb, there had been only one passenger. I predicted that the bus before it was running behind and overflowing with passengers. I learned that my predictions had been accurate as we boarded the overflowing bus this morning.

Right after we boarded, the frustrated driver called into dispatch to make a complaint that he was already running twenty minutes late – picking up passengers from the bus prior to his as well as those waiting for the bus behind him. It wasn't fair that he should be late because the one before him had been late or in an accident or whatever.

By the time Jenna and I reached our bus stop, I saw the driver reach for the phone for the third time. This time it was with a request that he would only drop off passengers and not pick new ones up. He must have been granted clearance, for when I went back to catch the return back to my house, it was the same driver and I asked if he was still behind. He said that he was not. Good for him. Good for UTA for setting things right. If they set things right.

I know when one bus has a problem – breaking down or whatever else – it causes more delay with the next bus. I've been on those buses before. I've also opted to wait for the next. My personal opinion (not that anyone has asked, but here it is anyway) is that during those hours that students are trying to get to school, and people are trying to get to work – put out a few extra buses – scheduling them every ten minutes instead of every fifteen. It would (and does) make a tremendous difference. No chain reaction build-up.

We've been scanning Jenna's card each time we enter and exit the form of transportation that we are using.  It will expire at the end of the week.  We will both have unscannable passes - which makes it easier on me.  But I did like the idea of entering our route agenda into the system - sort of.

The Comfort in a Mother's Voice

Kayla was not feeling well yesterday. In addition to being pregnant she had symptoms of a virus or a flu. Jenna and I took her children over to the school to have lunch (I actually drove Kayla's car with expired plates) and then to visit a friend. That gave Kayla three hours alone.

Our visit was quite brief with Kayla when we returned her kids and left for the bus. Jenna had even remembered to get her painting from last week. We were home for three hours when Kayla called us back.

Bill took her to the hospital as she was having contractions and Jenna and I stayed with the kids. I thought we were headed for a rather long night with them, and then I heard the dogs barking and saw Bill's car in the driveway. The contractions and labor had been a false alarm. BJ did not come last night.

I have given Kayla the option of leaving Jenna overnight. Usually Kayla has to think about it – but last night was a definite “yes”. She didn't even bat an eyelid. Said she had a pregnancy class at 8:15 this morning.

Jenna is not yet twelve, and legally is not supposed to be left alone. But I said I'd be back in the morning as close to 8:00 – and may have made it to Kearns before 8:00 if I hadn't taken the time to eat breakfast – or if I hadn't been too lazy to walk up to the MAX instead of waiting on the corner for a different bus so that I wouldn't have to walk. But the third transfer did make me fifteen minutes late.

So Jenna was with the kids for fifteen minutes – unsupervised and fretting. When was I going to get there? What if something horrible happened. The truth is I actually wasn't that far from the house. That particular route runs every 30 minutes and I had missed my transfer by 3-5 minutes. And so I called Jenna on Kayla's phone and she called me. And I reported:

“I am across the street from the Smith's where we sometimes wait . . .”

“I am now on the bus. We just turned into that neighborhood that goes around South Ridge.”

“We have just passed the snow cone place and are turning back onto the main street.”

So long as she could hear my voice she was fine. The panic had disappeared. How great it is that we can take comfort in another's voice – no matter how near or far.

There ARE MANY Perks to Eloping

A few of my posts have included dreams that I’ve had. Each of those posts concludes with how I don’t put much faith in dreams.  But there is one dream that I definitely interpreted to be quite meaningful.  I made a life changing decision as a result.

                  I met Roland for the first time on December 31, 2000.  He asked me out that night.  We would go downtown to celebrate the coming of the New Year.  I missed playing games with my family – a ritual I have enjoyed about New Years.

                  Roland was quite forward.  I had dismissed guys for being too forward – and none had ever been as forward as Roland had.  I didn’t understand why I felt so comfortable around him. By the end of our date we had set up a second. I don’t know if I knew then that we would be seeing the movie Castaway with Tom Hanks.

                  So during our second date, I cried and cried – not for Tom Hanks’ character, but because I thought of my dad.  Though he was never stranded on an island with a ball-turned-companion, I just remembered the frustration that dad must have felt in trying to communicate with anybody outside of his hospital bed. 

                  Roland was so gentle with me and seemed to understand.  He passed no judgment.  I was grateful for that. 

                  That night I had a dream that it was summer and my mom was trying to get all my sibs together for a family portrait.  In the dream Roland and I had been dating for six months.  He had not yet proposed, but I knew that he would be proposing.  I was wondering how to ask mom to allow Roland and the boys to be in our family picture, as I knew that we would be together by the end of the year.

                  In real life I shot out of bed.  I had met Roland only two days before.  We had only had our second date – a movie, at that. Why would I be dreaming that we would become an item?  I didn’t even know him!  I was less than thrilled about having this dream. 

                  The next day I went to work but returned home in less than four hours as I really didn’t feel well.  I told my brother that I’d be going back to bed and under any circumstances I was NOT to be disturbed.  But less than an hour later he knocked at my door to tell me that Roland was waiting for me.

                  For reals?  Or was I having another odd dream?  Roland was there to propose!  We had met just three days ago and he wanted to marry me!  Get real!  So of course my first thought was: “No, no, no, no, no . . . .”           actually the reaction was pretty much as it had been when I awoke from the dream.

               Was there a connection?  Had my dream been a personal revelation?  Was this a test?  “No – no – I can’t accept a proposal of marriage.  I don’t even know this guy.  This goes against EVERYTHING I had planned for myself.  I wasn’t even going to date a guy I had known less than a year.  And now I was getting this message to marry this complete stranger?”

                  Of course I prayed about my decision – realizing that just because I accepted his proposal did not mean I couldn’t break it off at some point.  Three days?? That’s outrageous!!

                  Since I was knee high my dad had tried to brainwash me into believing that I wanted to elope when I had the opportunity.  To be honest, I really had no idea what he meant. It wasn’t until I got much older than I realized the elopement thing was not a bad idea.  Only by the time Roland came along, dad was gone and mom didn’t want me to elope.  I think my mom saw Roland as the Big Bad Wolf and was afraid for me.

                  Roland and I had changed our wedding date several times.  As I had mentioned in this post, we had wanted to do the right thing and start our life together with a temple marriage.

                    We had the marriage certificate to present to our bishop for the following week, but he realized that he’d be out of town. And I was tired of it.  Tired of changing the date.  Tired of trying to appease everyone.  In fact, I had said to mom and brother, Corey, “why don’t you arrange a date that fits into both of your schedules and get back to us; You two make the arrangements and tell us when to show up.”

                 

                   After several tears and a talk with mom, I went into the bishop and asked if he could marry us that night or the next. Our civil marriage took place September 9, 2001. Everybody (including the groom) who came to the wedding received an eight hour notice or less.  So it wasn’t an elopement exactly, but it wasn’t planned in the way that you would think a wedding should be.

                  On September 11, terrorists attacked our nation.  If Roland and I hadn’t already been married, I would have had him drive me to Vegas upon my return home from work.  For I fully believed that the world had come to an end.  I suppose in many aspects it symbolically did.

                A month later we did an open house – mostly for the benefit of those who attended mom’s ward and made desires known that they wished I would have had a reception or something.  I purchased balloons, baskets and teddy bears for the decor and we’d gone to Sam’s Club for the hors-d'œuvre.  I think we spent 100 bucks tops.

So it wasn’t elaborate.  It worked.  I don’t ever look back on that day and say, “Oh, I wish I would have spent more money on more frivolous things.”

Okay, I’ll admit, I’ve never been overly enthusiastic about weddings.  If I have to be involved in a wedding, I have always enjoyed the simpler ones so much better than all that elaborate hoopla.  When I finally understood my dad’s wisdom, I had hoped that each of my boys would find girls who would want to elope. 

Actually, my first daughter-in-law and I have much in common as far as hoopla goes.  Her attitude pretty much matched my own.  Her family made the arrangements and she and Tony showed up.  Well, not entirely.  But I am under the impression that is how she felt.  It was important to her mom, and that is why she allowed it.  Rochelle’s mom passed away only two months after she and Tony were married.

I don’t know how much Carrie and I have in common.  She likes to visit, but Randy somehow always manages to steal her thunder.  His behavior resembles that of Captain Kirk or William Shatner where “I am important and therefore all attention should be on me”   

It was actually that behavior that Carrie found to be a turn off.  She could see right away that Randy is full of himself (which really most people don’t get because they are always awed by his charisma) I don’t recall why she agreed to go out with him, or why she allowed a second date (her description of their first date is less than flattering) but evidently had enough premonition to make a life with him.

Their wedding was expensive.  We did not contribute financially as we were on welfare when  both Randy and Tony were married to their wives. Perhaps that is part of why I have such a hang-up with the tremendous amount of money spent on weddings.  I have enough trouble  just staying afloat or trying to put food on the table.  Spending two paychecks for one-day event is OUTRAGEOUS.

Jeanie seemed all in favor of elopement initially.  But I think Biff wanted the hoopla – and what they had in mind initially seemed tasteful.  They would get married in the temple and have a luncheon with the family.  They wouldn’t send out announcements to friends until several weeks later to invite them to some kind of reception to pay a congratulations to the couple. At least that was my understanding.

But then it changed.  And changed again.  They couldn’t marry in the temple as they had planned and so they decided just to marry civilly.  They would include family members and have a luncheon afterward.  Later when they were granted temple marriage, they would have a reception to include all family and friends.

We received the announcement of their civil marriage and have been planning for that for over a month.  Two weeks ago Roland received a text from Biff to please escort him in the temple.  They are having their temple marriage on Friday and have changed their civil marriage to something else to accommodate those that are coming on Saturday. 

Two weeks is quite a healthy notice.  It’s not like Biff rushed into a proposal only three days after having met Jeanie.  And they have given us a lot more than just eight hours notice.  I can’t help but wonder what kind of example we set for them though. 

Still no scheduled reception – at least   that I know of.  I wonder if they are still planning on having more.  I think elopement would have been so much easier.  Definitely less expensive.  I can still plant the seeds for Jenna.  Let her know the pros and the cons.  I mean, it would be nice if we could afford something elaborate for her.  But gads, all that money for just one day?  Why not put the money towards a house or tuition or something that you will have with you with more than just a memory?

Wal-mart: Minds of Intelligence

Notice the date!  April First is April Fools' Day – Hence the title.  

 

I think customers are lacking in intelligence for going to Wal-Mart (or just admitting it) and waiting in endless lines to be waited on by clueless employees who appear even less intelligent than the customer (who, by the way, is still waiting in line)

I realize it’s wrong to stereotype, and I’m sure that somewhere in this Universe there really are happy Wal-Mart employees who seriously do understand their positions and really do enjoy being there as the Wal-Mart commercials would like us to believe.  I have personally just never met any of them.

Embarrassing as it is to admit this: yes, once again we ended up at Wal-Mart.  Roland wanted to get some head-phones to give to Jenna on her birthday.  I thought it was a great idea!  He chose Wal-Mart so that he could charge it.  NOT a great idea.  Especially since we didn’t actually have the card.  He had given it to me the other day before he left for work and I neglected to give it back to him.

He was certain that he could be issued a temporary if he went to the customer service.  The serpentine line that led to the customer service wasn’t moving.  I didn’t want to wait in line if we could help it.  I had given Jenna a time when we would return to the house.  We were off our mark by almost 30 minutes thanks to the endless Wal-Mart lines and lack of professional performance. 

Waiting in line: AS IF WE COULD REALLY HAVE AVOIDED IT!  We got in the express line in which the customer is supposed to have only ten items or less.  Why is it that there were three non-English speaking individuals filling bags with their groceries as the cashier continued to ring up all the items that filled their cart.  Really?  He couldn’t have communicated that they needed to be in another line? 

The other four clerks that were standing at the register on the side seemed like they were cluelessly trying to assist.  It reminded me of this  post on Corey’s blog.  It is really funny reading in a sad sort of a way – sad because it’s true.  It is kind of long however.  But a fine example of the Wal-Mart mentality.

As Roland and I stood in the line of clueless customers who must have thought the sign said, “100 items or less”, another employee took over as cashier and helped to move the line along – but not before losing a few individuals who really did have less than ten items.  But then who wants to wait in a line for 30 minutes to purchase a soft drink and a pack of gum?

 

Another check stand opened up.  Roland and I were waved through by an employee who seemed just as appalled at the express lane situation as I was.  When I looked over at Customer Service, there was no line.  The serpentine line of customers with carts had died down before the express line had.  Those same three people holding up the express line still hadn’t finished with their purchase when the customer service had died out.  But perhaps they all got tired of waiting also and left without resolving whatever issue each of them may have had. 

We’re creatures of habit who continue to do stupid things.  Why are we doing this to ourselves?  Why do we continue to keep Wal-Mart in business (not to mention our time)?  Could it be that our NON-intelligence exceeds the average Wal-Mart employee?  Why do we continue punishing ourselves over and over? How many Wal-Mart employees does it take to screw in a lighbulb?  Answer:  "What's a lightbulb?"

East and West and Harold

Ever since I have given up driving, I haven’t made the time to go out and see Harold – mom’s boyfriend of five months or so – though I have written to him.  I sent the last letter on the first.  He just got it yesterday.

Jenna happened to be off on Friday, and I found a way on public transportation that would get us close to Alta Ridge.  But our pass expired on the 31^st and I wouldn’t be able to get a new one until Roland got paid.  Jenna suggested that we go visit him after I picked her up from school on Thursday – but I knew that unless Roland was willing to pick us up from Alta Ridge that we would never make it home before him.  He told us to wait on our visiting Harold.

It was really too bad as the weather was so awesome on the 31^st.  It was snowing when we left the house yesterday.  Jenna and I both wore our snow boots, It turns out we really didn’t need them.

By the time I left Jenna at her school it had stopped snowing and the sun was showing its brightness.  I put my sunglasses on and headed towards the bus stop where I got off.  But I continued in the same direction.

I took the bus to the train station and got off at another to board a bus that would take me to the east side.  I grew up on the east side and so recognized all of the locations we passed.  I really do miss that area and the familiarities that I had become accustomed to over the years.

The distance from the bus stop to Alta Ridge is not a bad walk in awesome weather – I bet it’s a bear in foul weather though.  Desa – the assisted living activities director- takes the bus to work on a daily basis.  She knows what routes will get her where and shared information on two different methods.

I was talking to Harold when his mail was delivered.  That’s how I know he received it yesterday.  I think he is going bonkers living there as he is easily annoyed by the elderly–childish behavior and having to repeat things as only a few of them can retain information for more than a minute. Mom would tend to repeat herself, but she took him on journeys through her descriptions – I guess.  He said that she had taken him to the house where she used to live.  I knew that wasn’t right and couldn’t believe he was telling me that.

He said that she had been excited to show him her bedroom as she was really proud of it.  He said he wasn’t impressed and that somebody had really let the place go – especially the yard.  I told him that it was not the same house where I had taken her to for the last time in January – the house I grew up in.  For my niece and her husband had been living there and had actually taken better care of it than she had. 

I told him that I didn’t know what he was talking about.  Maybe he had a dream and hasn’t been able to differentiate between having dreamed it and having it taken place for real.  I know for a fact that it wasn’t real.  Mom had a lousy sense of direction – even before the dementia.  And really, how would they have gotten out anyway?  Or gotten to where the house supposedly was? He didn’t have an explanation for that part.

After my visit, I thought I would give Desa’s alternative route a try, but then realized that I was hungry.  And I had to cross the street by Arby’s if I went back the way I came. And it just so happened to be Roland’s lunch time and he is not that far from Alta Ridge.  So I called him.

He was excited and really wanted to be with me – said he’d come pick me up, but he was on the phone with a student FOREVER.  Seriously. Three buses had come and gone.  I should have just crossed the street after purchasing my sandwich instead of returning for another sandwich and two drinks – one of which I ended up throwing away.  Not to mention that I had waited for over an hour. I really should have known better. I definitely will next time.

So by the time I was almost home, Roland was STILL on the phone (same student) and I was just shaking my head.  By the time I returned home I had less than an hour before I had to leave to get Jenna – but my socks kept on sliding off my feet and into my boots (My feet are between sock sizes – Jenna’s fit, but they’re tight.  The heels of “ladies” socks are usually always longer than my own.  They never fit right – and so I often have all this extra fabric in my shoes) and so I did want to change into sneakers before I continued on my journey. 

The bus comes every half hour and so I can arrive at Jenna’s school a half hour early or ten minutes late.  Last month I went for the half hour early.  That actually annoyed Jenna who has always preferred dawdling and specifically asked me yesterday morning: “Can you please take the bus that gets you there ten minutes late?”  

Okay then.  No more waiting for her for 30 – 40 minutes in the cold.  I can deal with it.  But Roland actually beat us home today.  Don’t know how well that’s going to work out.  I think I’m just going to have to crock pot dinner each day.

It feels like I’d spent most of the day on the bus or the train or waiting.  It didn’t seem like it had been that long.  Though it might have felt longer had I not been reading.  I may not have been the wisest with my time but overall I thought it was a really nice day.  And though I felt like I had wasted both time and money waiting for Roland and that Roland too, was disappointed about not having made the opportunity to see me, Harold and Desa had both expressed gratitude.  I guess it’s all just what I wish to focus on.

Some Tarry and Some Labor

Matthew 20:1-16 gives us the parable of the laborers in the vineyard.  I had always looked at the parable as one about missionary work – about the hereafter, about those who spend their whole lives in the Church striving to do what is right and having someone who has put other’s through hell repent at the last hour. 

         

          I have labored so many hours in the hot burning sun – and God is telling me that if Maleficent should choose to repent, that her reward will be the same as my own.  That she is entitled to all the same blessings as my own.  I’ll admit that I haven’t accepted this interpretation very graciously.  But then who am I to think of myself as better if she truly surrendered herself and did/does repent and actual develop a "compassion" if you will? 

          Slaving in the vineyard is hard work.  I have often thought that I am really just so tired of being there.  I never gave another thought to those who are “waiting in line” – those would be laborers that remain at the job site in hopes that the master will return with something for them – any kind of a position that will give them some kind of wage.

          In today’s economy, it is easy to see why they would stay and tarry – but they would also hold signs that say, “I will work for food”  “Please help me.  I’m poor” and so forth. 

          I never gave the tarrying laborers a second thought.  I hadn’t thought of this parable with a different perspective until today.  And for the first time I saw myself as one of those who has stood in line more than once – and still find myself standing at times. 

          For the message that was shared today focused on those that are standing in line – for those who are doing everything diligently (to the best of their ability) and showing up at the labor site day in and day out and feel like they are just not being picked – that they, that we will never feel the blessings.

          Carrie is the wife of the second counselor, and I am married to the first.  We were actually on opposite ends of the room, but our eyes seemed to be connected to our mouths – that is every time we would make a comment or participated by reading, our eyes would leak and start a chain reaction of making our voices crack.

          She didn’t go into detail about why she was crying - but I think many understood.  She and Dan have been trying to adopt.  It’s been a painful process.  Why, when they attend their Church meetings, and hold callings, and serve diligently are they still waiting in line?  Why can they not labor in the vineyard?  For how long must they tarry? Why does it have to be in God’s due time?

          I have spent many years asking myself that one.  It was painful to watch those I had taught in sunbeams to get married and have children long before I even had a prospect.  People my age were experiencing their second and third season of life.  I was still in the first season and wondered if that was it. 

          The instructor who shared the lesson is in her 40’s and has never been married.  Actually there are several sisters in my ward who have never been married.  Some have friends moving through autumn and some have actually arrived in winter.  I’m probably somewhere between summer and fall – sort of like the weather is now.

          Surrendering ourselves to Him is hard.  We need to have faith that He really does know what’s best for us – that the trials we endure right now are just to make us stronger down the road.  That our “waiting in line” isn’t done in vain – that there is a purpose.  We need to endure while we wait – impatiently or not.  We can’t control His time.  So why not accept it graciously?  

          Perhaps if I dwell on the subject long enough, I can learn to accept it graciously.  I have been blessed.  And I need to focus more fully on those blessings.  Because right now I really am not very gracious about the whole tarrying matter.