Bah, Humbug, Mother Nature

          The air has been of poor quality – particularly for those who have to live with asthma and other breathing challenges so I suppose the snow is a blessing – in more ways than one I suppose.  But three months worth of snow at once? 

          It started snowing just before 3:00 p.m. yesterday.  It paused perhaps at 9:00 or 10:00.  In some parts it never stopped snowing.  I can’t even imagine how deep the snow is in some parts right now – or how much damage it is causing so many right now. 

         

          The libraries closed at three and all workers were sent home.  Roland didn’t get home until almost 6:00.  He gets off at 4:00.  In decent weather his work is less than 20 minutes away.  Usually he is critical about Utah drivers and the snow.  All he said was, “It’s really bad out there.”

          In a way, I was hoping that school would be cancelled this morning – which I’m certain that it was in some parts.  Not our district.  It was said (for those driving) to take our time that they’d accept tardies and absences.  I wonder if that applies to teachers as well.

          Jenna’s first kindergarten teacher has to drive over three hours in this kind of weather – provided she’s able to get out of her snowed in community.  I admire her for being so diligent as she lives so far away.  I bet she drives through at least three other districts before getting to the one I’m in – though the school where she teaches is also twenty minutes from where I live.

          I’m happy with Jenna’s current school.  I normally drop off behind the school – but I knew the lot would be slick – there were still icy patches from the last snow.  I’m sure this morning had to have been worse.

          I didn’t go through the neighborhood to get to the back lot however.  Jenna announced that they could be dropped off in front.  At least it was clear.  And so was the road I had driven on.  But I knew I couldn’t go back that way.  A bus had been hit at the corner. 

I’m thinking maybe the police car had been hit also.  Hard to tell – but there was a car behind the police car – and one plowed into the bus.  Traffic was being derailed through a neighborhood street.  I’d think it very odd if I was to look out my window and see a public bus driving up my street . . . 

It took me longer to return home than it took going to the school.  Traffic for the most part was 10 mph or less – which is fine.  I’d rather have a bunch of overly cautious drivers on the road than just one speeder who ruins the commute with hurriedness.

Jenna, for one, is very excited about the snow.  In her mind, “It’s about time!” for she has missed it terribly. 

She loves to make snow angels and snowballs and build snowman and forts.  She likes to slip and slide and catch snowflakes on her tongue. I’m glad she has that attitude.  I’m glad she likes the snow.

I liked snow when I was much younger.  I still like it on trees, in the mountains, even in the yard.  Just not on my road or sidewalks.  No slush, no ice.  I want perfect driving conditions.  Actually, I wouldn’t mind giving up driving totally.  But I have to commute some way.  Public transportation is not always reliable.  Nor does it always take me exactly where I want to go.

Jenna will be having a hot chocolate party later on today – or perhaps she is having it now.  It’s snowing now and perhaps she got some snow-playing in before the party started (or will start) and for her, that will be a great kick off for a glorious hot cocoa celebration!

I included some photos of my boys in the snow in this post.  Now let me share some of Jenna growing up in the snow.

Lucy and Ethel and Dementia

          Mom and I used to refer to ourselves as Ethel and Lucy, which I have mentioned here 

           Yesterday we were laughing together.  It felt almost like it had a very long time ago.

          Of course I don’t remember all of the conversation – just pieces.  But it went something like this

          During the Password game show:

          Mom:  “Humphrey.  What kind of name is Humphrey?  Who would name their kid Humphrey?”

          I laugh.

          “Humphrey.  That sounds like a hump.”

          “I never liked the name Dylan.  Whenever I hear that name, I think of dill pickles”

          Later we were working on a crossword puzzle.  Let’s get real.  Sometimes the puzzle creators reach for definitions. Or else it’s taken for granted that the puzzle solver just automatically knows the name of every geographical location (including fictional ones) and the histories behind them.  Give me a break.

          So we’re laughing at some of our rationalization and realizing just because the word fits doesn’t mean it goes.

          “Viola relative.  Do they mean a flower?  Or are we supposed to know the actual person?”

          “Or it could mean an instrument.”

          As it turned out, mom was spot on.  The answer was cello. 

          We had asked all of the “across” questions, but not all the downs.  She decided it was taking us too long and looked the answers up in the back – writing down some and still asking, “What the heck is that?”  or “Oh, yea. Right.” Followed by the rolling of eyes.

          And then the phone rang.  It was her friend, Erin.  For mom, the phone call came totally out of the blue.  I wasn’t as surprised as I had just mailed a card to her daughter’s address (which you can read about here) 

          Mom related what we were doing and Erin asked to speak to me.  Mom handed me the phone saying, “It’s my friend, Erin.  She wants to talk to you.”

          Of course Erin and I couldn’t have the conversation that’s been missing all of these years.  She thanked me for finding her. She said she had no idea.  Well, of course she had no idea.  That’s understandable.  We only learned about it less than a year ago.  And mom’s mind seems to have gone downhill rapidly since she was first diagnosed with dementia.

          Erin gave me two phone numbers, her mailing address and email address to pass on to Fran (which I did once I got home) and I sent Erin a more detailed message than the one I had sent her at Christmas time. 

          I visit mom again today.  I hope it’s as pleasant as yesterday’s visit.

When Silent Night Becomes Annoying

          Biff must have received one of those microchip cards or something.  Jenna thinks it is from one of Roland’s ties.  Either way, we can’t find the source.  It is stuck in our car somewhere.  The opening and closing of the back doors trigger it somehow.  And it’s that synthesized music that doesn’t do justice to the reverent tune to begin with.  But to have it play over and over agin – and for some reason it has gotten louder.

          I hadn’t heard it the first couple of times.  But Jenna’s radar ears picked it up rather quickly, “What’s that noise?”

          I heard a faint sound.  But it’s not “faint” anymore.  You would think the chip would have worn out by now.  It does wear out, doesn’t it? I guess it’s possible that the chip could outlive the car.  We’ll be sending our car into it’s final resting place and there will be the lull of music amongst the hammered car graveyard. 

         I took it to the dealer recently.  I hadn't heard the tune all day after picking the car up.  I was about to send a very heartfelt thank you to "Oil Stop" but the noise came back.  They hadn't gotten rid of that annoying sound.

          “Silent Night, This isn’t right – we are dead in a junkyard bed.  Someone took money to take us away – we didn’t die here, but here we will stay – no more driving for us – no more driving for us”

          I really would like the car to outlive the chip – even if it means we have to listen to the synthesized Silent Night in the heat of the summer.  At least we’ll have transportation – right?

We Don’t Pray for Material Things

          Laurie was giving the lesson in Sunday school.  She had passed out paper and pens and asked us each to write five things that we wish we had.  I don’t remember them all – but the top of my list was I wish that I could be a better mother to Jenna.  The forth thing on my list was transportation.  It was the only material thing that was listed.

          Laurie then asked the class if there were any willing to share maybe just a few items on our list.  Wade rattled off his five good non-materialistic things.  I read only the top one on my list.  Laurie looked a little embarrassed as she confessed that the first things that came to her mind were all material.

          She then went on with the lesson and how each of us need to strive to make accomplishments, and when we turn to the Lord we need to have a plan in place about how to achieve our goals, or dreams, or wishes . . .  She pointed out how wrong it is to pray with, “I want a car.” “Please bless me with a new computer” or what have you.

          When the time came to share ideas  about what we learned, I couldn’t help feeling how blessed I’ve been about wish number four.  That sounds odd, I know.  But it was the one thing on my list that I had prayed about more than anything else on the list – oh, not for a new car – although that would be awesome.  My pleas were more like, “Please allow me to take Jenna to school without breaking down.” “Please allow me to make it to mom’s without any harm or accident” “Please let me get to a gas station before I run out completely”

          Last year when we got the car inspected, I figured it would be our last.  But December rolled around again and the car is still with us.  But it is so flawed.  Falling apart both inside and out.  By the time we’re through with it, I doubt we’d be able to sell it just for parts.  But I won’t drive the truck.  Probably I shouldn’t be driving at all.  So it’s not just the care of vehicle I pray about, but also the driver – who’s a neurotic mess without the transportation issue.

          Before Jenna’s second grade school year had ended, we were down to only one vehicle.  We’d have to wake Jenna up and get in the car.  Roland would drive to work.  I would return home.  Jenna would get dressed.  I would pick up her friend and drive the two of them to school.

          After school let out, we would drive to Roland’s work.  Jenna would do her homework (if we were lucky) and Roland would drive us home.  That lasted two and a half months.

          In the summer I would just have Roland take the car for the most part. Utah was under construction (still is in some places) and it was so outrageously hot outside, I didn’t really want to drive anyway.

          On Wednesdays Jenna and I would take the bus to the high school where she was taking a class in theatre. Occasionally I would take the car.  But then we would have to pick up Roland and the construction made for a much longer drive – so my borrowing the car during the summer was less than once a week. (Jenna and I also took the train to my mom’s house and walked or caught a ride with Kayla)

          So I feel blessed that we have transportation (other than our feet) and that we have gotten away with driving what seems like a relic (it’s actually not that old – it just looks and feels that way) and I continue to pray that “we won’t get pulled over on expired plates” or “please let us arrive safely and return without any harm or accident”

          It feels good, too, to have Jenna suggest saying prayers and watch her grow in faith and build her own prayerful memories.

An Act of Service for both parents and children

         Children call her the animal balloon lady as she has brought her pump and balloons to various activities providing the children with a sweet gift to take home (provided it doesn’t pop first)

Noel announced a service that she would be providing for parents to drop off their children for four hours and she would provide snacks for them and a play a holiday movie and provide other activities.  Sounded like a great bargain to me.

          I signed up for Jenna’s sake more than my own.  I figured she’d enjoy the activities and association with whatever fellow classmates might have showed up.

          Noel offered two shifts: 8-12 and 1-5.  I chose the earlier of the two – figuring there would be less children and it wouldn’t be so overwhelming for Noel to have a huge amount of children in her apartment. 

          As it turned out, it was Jenna by herself – which actually worked out to her own benefit as she really does enjoy the one on one.  And when Noel was preoccupied with putting cookies in the oven or cleaning or what have you, Jenna would play with the dogs.  She loves that.  Our own high-maintenance dog doesn’t interact the way some neighboring dogs do.

           How awesome it is to have people like Noel who are willing to provide a service for both the children and the parents who are involved.  Thank you, Noel.  And thank you also to your roommates who allow the children to come into their home also.

Is There Justification in Lying?

          When your child hollers: “Mom! So-n-so is on the phone!” 

And you respond with, “Tell them I’m not home.”  What are you teaching your child?

          Several children will go in for shots and will ask, “Will this hurt?” of course they don’t always get the truth.  But hey, it’s easier to lie than to wrestle them to the ground and make it hurt even more.

Is it okay to lie?  Is it acceptable to have your child tell a stranger that you are not home?  When a child is home alone, he’s been taught to say that “my mom is sleeping”  “dad’s out in the shed.  I’ll go get him” and runs and hides or calls an adult with a plea in his voice, “What do I do?”

          I’m not big on deceit – though I have told Jenna there’s a Santa Clause and have been sneaky about surprises.  Is that the same?

          When my grandmother went back to work to support herself and her three children she lied about her age as she feared age discrimination.

          When my brother-in-law’s first wife was diagnosed with cancer, Bill had just lost his job.  Annaleigh decided not to seek treatment – knowing full well that there was no insurance and that they wouldn’t have the finances to meet her medical expenses.  So Bill lied to her.  He said they were covered, even though they weren’t.

          We’re taught to always tell the truth, because then we don’t have to remember whatever falsehood we may have said.  In my mom’s case, she doesn’t always remember from one minute to the other.  We can have the same conversation seven times in less than thirty minutes.

          My mom believes all sorts of crazy things.  She gets angry if we would attempt to correct her – so for the most part we don’t.  It’s not as though she’s going to remember in two minutes from now anyway.  When we’d express concern over her medication or finances (as there are so many scams out there) she behaved quite childish and all but throws a tantrum.

          Corey has called around to have mom’s name removed from several caller lists but has been told that the request has to be made from HER phone.  So now someone else will need to call these organizations (whether real or bogus) from her phone – probably a female – so that we can have her name removed and if they should ask, “Am I speaking with person in charge” we can lie and say “Yes” because really, how does one prove him or herself over the phone with a solicitor?

         

          Sometimes we have to take mom places that she just doesn’t want to go.  So we’re not always truthful about it.  Or sometimes we are and she forgets and accuses us of wrong doing.  It’s been frustrating, really.  Or at least that’s how it was in March.  It’s not even been an entire year later and her memory is going rapidly. 

          For two years the main road off hers was under construction. She believes during that time the entire neighborhood had been evacuated to elsewhere.  She is always surprised by certain items of mail she receives or when her children are able to find the house she’s lived in for the last 52 years as she believes that she has lived elsewhere.  Except for the other day.  I think it’s the first time in a month that she hasn’t mentioned the move.

          The other day I had a caregiver and nurse drop by to give mom an evaluation as Patrick and Sunny had scheduled an appointment with a facility today and I thought it better to find the right fit (as there are three locations).  Mom answered their questions – offended at how personal it was getting.  I figured she’d forget about it the minute they left.  But she asked, “Just who were those girls?”

          “Those weren’t your visiting teachers?” I knew that they weren’t.  But she might not know. 

          “I’ve never seen them before.”

          “Really?” I know for a fact that she doesn’t know even half the people in her ward (church boundaries) although she has known many of its members 20-40 years or more.  But she’s forgotten most of them.  I was surprised to see her smiling at the ward Christmas dinner and staying for the entire program.

          “Oh, I’m sorry mom.  Maybe I shouldn’t have let them in.  They seemed nice”

          She forgot about them.  I told her that I had to leave in about thirty minutes to pick up Jenna and would she like to come with me.  I was surprised when she said “yes” but of course she changed her mind when it came time – which was okay.  I needed to get home to start dinner for Roland.

          As I was getting ready to leave, she kissed me and thanked me for coming.  She doesn’t remember her conversation with “the girls” at all.  Even if I had told her the truth about who they were and why they were there, she wouldn’t have remembered.  So why have her be upset for two or three minutes with the truth?  I hate having to lie – but I hate having her upset with me even more.

          Funny.  Whenever we tried to cover up a wrong-doing with a lie, we got into more trouble with the lie than we did for the “crime” itself. I remember one time when we didn’t get punished at all because even though our actions were less than desirable (I had let Patrick drive the car a year before he was eligible to get his driver’s license) we had been truthful about it.

          Mom doesn’t remember that.  I don’t know if she remembers how against deceit she was at one time.  I think she’s oblivious for the most part.

Welcoming the New Year

A year ago today, mom lost her driver’s license.  It’s hard to believe how much of her memory has been wiped out in such a short time.  Yesterday she seemed almost comatose to me.  Her birthday is not until June.  Jenna asked if we could go to her house to celebrate.  There were tears in my eye because I honestly don’t know where she’ll be six months from now.

On the Saturday before the New Year, we took my mom to the movies with us. We were late getting to the movie and so had to sit in front.  “Life of Pi” is NOT a comedy – unless maybe one is watching it with another who has dementia.

          I sat between my mom and Jenna.  Jenna rattled on about the movie and animals and explained things in detail (as though I wasn’t sitting there watching it myself) and my mom would make these off-the-wall comments that made me laugh.

          Mom’s memory right now doesn’t allow her to retain what she has watched from scene to scene. I don’t know if she remembered why the pair was in the water.  But she did ask,   “Why doesn’t he just throw the tiger out of the boat?”

          “The tiger is too big.  He can’t just throw it out.”

          “Well, if it was me, I would just shoot him with a gun.”

          I start to laugh.  How does one obtain a gun if marooned in the ocean?  He hadn’t chosen to be stranded out there. And then the very idea of my mom with a gun is laughable.  We had found one in her mother’s apartment several years ago (before I had met Roland) and treated it as though it was a dead mouse.

          I took Jenna to the library on Monday afternoon.  The auditorium had been set up with plastic water bottles, streamers, paper plates, beads, and icicles.  Children were encouraged to make noise maker (shakers) and party hats to welcome in the “new year” – which wouldn’t officially start until twelve hours after the celebration. 

They played a few games – including “hot potato” and “Simon says” before the “New Year’s” countdown. It was cute watching the children countdown to noon with all the enthusiasm of it being midnight.

Jenna enjoyed herself.  What she seemed to enjoy the most was being in the company of a friend from Church.  His mom invited Jenna to do a family home evening with them later on.  And so Jenna went over to her friend’s house for pizza and a lesson on setting goals.  I think there was another celebration to welcome in the New Year.  She was home before 9:00.

Roland and I started in on the pizza while she was gone.  No new year’s snacks this year.  But it was typical of my new year’s holiday – boring. 

Bill had talked to Roland about meeting at my mom’s house.  He called when Jenna was gone.  But Roland wanted just a quiet evening at home. Unlike last year, Jenna made it until after midnight.  She could have probably kept on going if I hadn’t wanted to go to bed myself.  I was tired.

So on New Year’s Day itself we met Kayla and Bill at my mom’s house.  We played a few games.  Not much.  The kids were getting restless.  We all left to return to our homes about the same time.

Corey called shortly thereafter.  First he talked to mom and asked what she’d been doing.  She remembered that all of us were there, but she also informed Corey that we had gone for a hike.  Really?

Corey then called me to get the truth of the story.  It’s been less than 40 degrees outside.  Like I’d really take my mom and the babies out in 40 degree weather.  Like Roland and I are even in shape to go hiking. 

It’s been a tiring year.  I hope our families may be less stressed in 2013.

Collector Items or Drinking Glasses?

          I know there are people who collect – perhaps I don’t know avid collectors, but I do know some people who collect certain things.

          Take Corey, for instance.  My brother has always been a BIG Star Wars fan.  He started his collection perhaps before he even saw the movie.  He had action figures, and the Mellenium Falcon, perhaps the Terrain Armored Transport Vehicle and that ugly animal thing – but I don’t know.  I must admit that I am NOT a Star Wars geek – nor do I actually know the Star Wars terminology as I actually had to Google the names of the transportation products as I really wasn’t sure (Corey would be appauled)

          Roland’s passion is Superman comic books – something he had collected and the boys’ mother threw out.  She didn’t know.

          I must admit I’ve had several collections myself.  DID HAVE.  When times got tough I had forced myself to spend my coins at face value.  Just because I collect them doesn’t mean my children will want to continue and then whatever I saved may not be worth anything later on down the road – which was my initial intent.  To have a material possession worth financial value.

          Corey’s collection has nothing to do with financial gain.  He truly loves Star Wars – and avid Star War fans LOVE to look at his collection – though much remains in the original packaging.  He’s never played any games or has viewed his calendar.  Actually, it’s kind of hurtful that he doesn’t spend time really enjoying some of the things he has – well, at least at the time they were given.

          I have no problem with seeing the Pez Dispensers left in the box.  If it weren’t for the cool dispensers I often wonder if Pez would even be able to sell their candy as I don’t find the candy itself to be that great.  Tolerable at best.  But does anybody in this world actually have a craving for pez candy?  I mean, really.  They’re not that great.

          On Christmas day Roland opened a set of collector glasses featuring four characters from Star Trek – which he decided to use as drinking glasses and if they broke – oh, well – at least they were enjoyed.  I’m afraid Captain Kirk did not make it to the New Year as he crashed to the floor and Scottie (or any of us) was able to beam him back to restoration. 

          Over the years I’ve learned that I would rather enjoy a gift than leave it sitting in a box.  It’s not like I’m going to be around to “collect” and with today’s economy . . . I can’t see my children hanging onto it. 

          I think Roland had the right idea – even though we had to say good-bye to Captain Kirk.  When I told Roland, he misunderstood and thought the real William Shatner had actually passed away.  Funny.

Here's a Blast From the Past

          Happy New Year!

Thirteen Years Ago Today

          It was 13 years ago today when I first met Roland.  Oh, I had seen him before.  He was in my mom’s ward (church boundary) for a brief period of time.

          He always sat with his arms stretched out on the pew and around each of his boys that were seated next to him on either side.  He also had a big ol’ smile plastered on his face.  There was something about him that appealed to me.  His smile perhaps.  The genuine love that he had for his boys.

          On December 31, 2000, I saw him in the foyer of the church.  He was wearing a tie with a large picture of the Tasmanian devil printed on it.

          “Nice tie,” I said.  I don’t know if I actually used the word “nice” – I’m really not that big of a Looney-Tune fan, but I did want to get his attention.  “A gift from your boys?”

          There was a loud smile on Roland’s face – because something told him that I would be his next wife.  Fortunately he did not share that with me at the time.  I don’t think I would have gone out with him otherwise. 

          He didn’t actually answer my question about the tie.  Mr. Smooth wanted to know where I sat and kept his arm around me the entire time. (I suppose that should have been a clue)

          He asked me to “First Night” an event that takes place downtown – to welcome in the New Year.  He said it would just be him and me and that he’d leave the boys at home.

          I told him NOT to leave the boys at home.  My family has played games on New Years for as long as I remember.  I told him to leave the boys at my mom’s house and play games with my family.  None of us knew that the boys would be a part of the family before the end of 2001 – except for maybe Roland.

          So the boys sat with their “cousins” apparently in order of birth – they certainly hadn’t planned it that way, but mom looked over and said they were seated Biff (13) Tony (12) Ellen (11) Randy (10) and Kimball (9)

          Our engagement happened fast – too fast in my opinion.  I had come home sick and instructed Corey that I was not to be disturbed, but he made an exception for Roland whom I really didn’t know but was comfortable with – although I didn’t know why.  I had dismissed guys less forward than Roland for being TOO forward.  And yet here was Roland who surprisingly didn’t ask me to marry him at First Night.

          He wanted my opinion about two things.  He held out some job applications and told me the pros and cons for each one and asked what job I thought he should take.  Really?  What advice could I possibly give him? 

          The reason he valued my opinion is because there was a second matter.  Would I marry him?  That is why he wanted my input about the job.  “No, no, no, no,” is what I thought in my head.  “I don’t even know this guy”

          I had had a dream the night before.  “The Lord is testing me,” I thought.  He had tested so many others in the Bible – Abraham, Sarah, Ester, Ruth, the widow that Elijah meets up with in 1 Kings 17:10. 

          I did NOT KNOW Roland.  How could I possibly marry someone I did not know – not really?  It was an act of faith.  I had convinced myself that just because I had said “Yes” to his proposal did not mean I couldn’t change my mind later on.

          I didn’t change my mind.  We were married two days before the planes crashed into the world trade center.  I thought the world had come to an end.  I suppose for many it did.  Economically we have not climbed out of it.  We have struggled most of our married lives.  There have been a large number of us who have struggled.  The mountain has become rougher.  We really need to assist one another to the top.

          It’s been a hard climb.  But I have learned to love Roland tremendously.  He always tells me how blessed he is to have me in his life.  But you know what?  I am the one who has been blessed.

          I’m grateful to Roland.  Perhaps one day I will be grateful for the struggles.  I’d be lying if I were to post that right now.  I know struggles are for my own good, they help me to grow . . . blah, blah, blah.  Honestly, at this point in time, I think struggles suck big time – even more than a powerful vacuum cleaner.

Dragged Decorations or Did I Just Vacuum Up Pixie Dust?

         Each Saturday this month we've gone to clean the Church. The primary and youth were assigned to clean last week.  Not a lot of participation – especially from the youth (Jenna was the only one from primary and only one youth leader) and the floor was in need of major vacuuming.

          The mess I mention in this post was confined to just one room – while it appeared that either decorations had been dragged across each room and the halls in the Church or else a naughty elf went around pouring sparkling dust. 

          There are three wards which share the building.  One in particular seems to get blamed for any mess that may be left – though I did find evidence of their ward in March when I went in to vacuum all that popcorn.  They just seem to use more in the way of decorations, party more, and have the reputation of not cleaning up.

          We usually get a lot of support on Saturday mornings.  We show up at 8:00 and have the entire building cleaned long before 9:00 am.  But not today.  We were there for the entire hour.  In that time I did only four rooms.  And the vacuume was actually working.  But, oh, my.  The entire building?

          Actually, I don’t know if there were any sparkles in the chapel.  The chapel is always done by the same person who takes charge with his vacumme and has never let himself get trapped into another assignment.  I understand.  That was my baby when we lived in our last house.

          I don’t just understand why glittery specks appeared in every room though.  But the trees in the foyer looked quite naked.  Perhaps they had been fully decorated last week but dragged around until bare all over the building.  That'll be my conclusion.  Dragged throughout the building by some naughty elf (or children)

LaTiesha Cannon: Part Time Detective (LOL)

About four months ago I posted this about my hang-ups with facebook.  One commenter lovingly chastised me by sharing what she LIKES about facebook.

I must admit, since then, I have checked it more often.  One reason is because of mom’s health and trying to keep all of those involved with her health care on the same page, one member created a private site for us to each update and view.  I notice we’re still not always on the same page however.

Facebook also gives one the opportunity to find acquaintances from the past and possibly make a connection. Google can do that, too.  But not resources apply – or are personalized in the same way in which some face users allow.  And so the story unfolds:

Erin, Fran, mom and Sally were friends in San Francisco.  The first three all ended up in Utah after they were married. 

Recently I had lunch with Fran and my mom.  Fran asked mom if she still heard from Erin.  She used to send Christmas cards out each year. Turned out that neither one of them had remembered hearing from their long time friend since she remarried.  They wondered whatever became of their friend Erin.

I remembered seeing the announcement several years ago – though I don’t recall her new last name.  Nor do I recall the first name of the groom. The last time I had seen her was a long while prior to that – at her husband’s funeral. 

She had five daughters.  Of course there was the brief introduction to all five at the funeral.  Before that I had met only three of them – Addison, Diane and Heidi.  Heidi was only three at the time.

Out of the blue, I typed in each of their names on facebook.  Heidi’s name was the only one that came up under her maiden name.  It could be her (Like I would really remember what she looks like) but I do know the name of the high school she attended.  I noticed several of her “friends” had her mother’s maiden name.  Surely, it had to be her.  But would she be willing to read a message from a stranger?  I didn’t believe that my name would even mean anything to her.

I sent the same message to one of Heidi’s sisters (whom I discovered on Heidi’s profile) and one to someone I supposed to be Erin’s brother – but I don’t know.  I let a few weeks pass before I figured out that my messages had been typed in vain.  (Facebook now monitors all messages and it appears that unless you are in the friends’ circle or at least maybe friends with someone who is, the message won’t appear in the box of the receiver – so really, what is the point of giving us that option?)

After two weeks, I once again attempted to find more current info for Erin.  I found her late husband’s obituary.  Oh, that would be helpful.  I learned the married names of four of her daughters (though it appears that Heidi has been remarried since then) and realized that I’d been spelling Addison’s name incorrectly. 

I found her on facebook and requested a friendship (not that I’m really requesting a friendship but she may not get my typed message otherwise; fb actually used to give that option when one made a friend request) and also learned of her current city and where she works and looked them up in the phone directory and learned that there is an Erin who is staying in the same household. 

Erin K. Brimley.  That could be her most recent married name.  I can’t remember.  She may be in a situation similar to mom’s and Addison is taking care of her.  I don’t know.  I may never know.  I did send a Christmas card to the address I found.

I passed what information I did have onto Fran.  I don’t know what may result from it.  But at least it’s there.  And perhaps, down the road, we may have more.   Hopefully it’s been a bit helpful for Fran.  It’s gotten me excited.