Awards for Just Trying Out

I remember having volunteered last year for the school fundraiser during which time the children held a talent show.   I don’t remember any talent shows in the years prior.  That didn’t mean they didn’t exist.  But I’m guessing last year may have been the first. 

         I don’t know how long it went for – at least two hours, I'm guessing.  It felt like it went on for longer than that.  And though there were a lot of truly talented children, it seemed there were some that needed work.  Kudos for them to having the guts to stand on stage and perform when some of it was actually somewhat difficult to watch without cringing

 

         This years talent show has stipulations.  Only three acts or group of performers from each grade would be selected.  The time limit for each act is three minutes. 

         I asked Jenna if she’d be trying out.  Her initial response was “no” but then she said she was invited by a “popular” group to preform with them.  One was going to sing, “Let it Go” while the other five performed a dance.  For whatever reason, the group of girls went from six to four to three to two – whether any of those originally involved had auditioned or not, I don’t know.

         Jenna ended up auditioning with a friend who hasn’t had the best self-esteem since Jenna has known her.  I was happy to hear that Jenna was still enthusiastic about auditioning and assisting her friend at the same time.  Anna sang, “Roar” while Jenna acted out the lyrics. 

         I don’t know how well they did.  Jenna said there were four auditions just from her class – or the two classes involved in the dual immersion.  I don’t know how many others tried out for that grade.  But they did audition.  Their act was not selected.  But I am so happy to see certificates from their instructors issued to each student who took the opportunity to try out for the talent show.  Their effort was rewarded so hopefully they won’t be discouraged for the next talent show.

         Jenna really does have and has had very awesome teachers who encourage learning but also encourage having fun.  I’m happy that Jenna has been pushing herself.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

and happy birthday to my brother, Patrick!

What Awesome Dedication

Last night I attended a birthday party for the RS.  The dinner wasn’t scheduled until 6:30, but I could tell by the decorations and the presentation that there were some on the committee that must have started setting up at 5:00.  And then they stayed to clean up afterwards.  I KNOW more time was dedicated to the  entire set-up/clean-up-process than was for the event itself.  I have felt much admiration for these sisters – but especially on nights like last night.  What a lot of hoop-lah and truly admirable devotion!

Shortly after Roland and I moved into our current ward, I was asked to be on the activities committee.  It was a short lived calling as the entire committee changed hands just four months later.  But I don’t recall devoting so much time.  But then our RS pres at the time was a Superwoman who somehow has enjoyed the challenge of doing it all with little or no delegation.  She cooked and baked and multi-tasked – or so it seemed.  And the food she prepared was (still is) great.  In all honesty, my favorite part about being on the committee was having the opportunity of bringing home leftovers.

Last night I stayed late.  Pitched in a little bit but not near as much as I probably should have.  Roland was in the nursery with several children – the most children I have seen at an RS activity nursery (or one of the few).  He ended up being the only leader.  Fortunately for him most of the kids were older and could look out for themselves as well as the few little ones who were there.   

He stayed to take down tables as I visited with those few stragglers that remained.  I think we took more leftovers home last night than I had ever taken home when I had served in that position.  Among were the remainders of an orange chiffon salad – which had actually been my favorite part of the meal.  Guess Roland will be taking some of that with him to work.

Thank you all people who are so diligent in their callings and fulfill their assignments to the fullest.  May we all have such dedication.

Do You Remember Dr. Demento?

Both of my brothers listened to Dr. Demento.  I remember Patrick and his friends singing the words to “dead puppies” and “shaving cream”.  I don’t believe they were fanatics.  Corey, on the other hand, was a true Dr. Demento fan.

He would record the programs and save songs that he liked.  He would play them over and over and laugh at the demented humor. 

In 1985, Michael Jackson and Lionel Ritchie got together with 46 other stars to record HelpingHands USA for Africa.  The song was called “We are the World” and proceeds went for Relief of famine and disease in Ethiopia.

I don’t know if it was Morton Downey Jr. who created the “We are the Worms” parody or if his name is associated with the song as he introduced it on radio program in Cleveland, Ohio, 1986.  Corey loved that song.  It would make him laugh.  I’ll admit that I smiled about it, too. 

It was rumored that those associated with USA for Africa had politely requested that the parody be removed from the airwaves as it desecrated so much of what they had tried to accomplish.  I don’t know if the rumor was true or not.  I saw a couple of versions on YouTube as I was researching for this post - so the song is obviously still played - or has been.

So what made me think of all of this?  As I was walking home from my car pool ride yesterday morning, I stepped over a dead worm out on the sidewalk.  For over 25 years I don’t think I have ever seen a worm on the sidewalk without thinking of that song.

Forecast

The weathermen said that it would snow yesterday. 

It did 

for about twelve minutes.  

Soft flurries fell lightly 

as Jenna and I crossed the street. 

Huge flakes fell quickly 

as Juan left the car. 

By the time we got Jenna to school,  

it had stopped.  

Signs of snow dusted a few lawns  

and seemingly seemed to miss others.  

How could that be

when the yards were right next door to one another? 

And yet there were patches of green 

amongst the white dusted lawns.

At 8:30 I took the umberella

and walked to a bus stop

to take a bus that I’ve been on only one time before.  

I put my unused umberella into my backpack

before the bus arrived. 

I got off at the TRAX station

and walked to the bank

to make a deposit.   

I returned to take the train. 

Before I sat down

I removed my coat and swater. 

I put my sweater

in the backpack. 

I did not return my coat

until just before the train stopped

at the station near the main road. 

I then got off to catch another bus

and returned home. 

The entire trip took less than 50 minuts. 

I was back home at 9:22. 

The air was moist but

I never needed the umbrella.

I wished I had thought

to turn the heat down before I left. 

The hot air was blaring at me

when I walked through the door. 

I went into my room and

turned the fan on. 

This morning I actually got cold. 

I don’t know why. 

Between 3:30 and 4:00 I wrapped myself in the bedding. 

Roland lay without covers. 

Something’s wrong.

“Aren’t you cold?” I asked. 

Surely if I’m cold,

he must be freezing.

“Aren’t you hot?” he asks. 

For surely if he’s hot,

I must be roasting.

And yet we lay in bed

in reverse roles. 

I was dumbfounded.

At four I got up

as the Aleve was wearing off.

I went into the main bathroom

and took a warm to hot shower. 

I could feel the warm air blowing

before the warm water poured over my body. 

And I was still cold. 

Does this mean

I’m coming down with something?

When I returned to the bed,

Roland was still without cover. 

And I was still cold. 

He did leave the house

wearing a sweater underneath his coat. 

And I am wearing a sweatshirt. 

Currently it is dark outside.

In the News

Sometimes there are stories in the news that just seem oddly interesting.  I am sad for the good Samaritan in this first story.

A good Samaritan sees a car crash and calls 911.  He walks toward the accident to see if those involved are okay.  He was injured in the process.  more here

This next one made me laugh

Officer pulls over to assist driver of stalled car and discovers 22 pounds of Marijuana in the back seat  here

 this next story (video) has made the news stations for three days at least

student and employee at UVU is arrested after “correcting” a confusing sign.  Here

 I really like this story, too: 

an off duty officer recognizes bank robber leads to arrest  here

and BYU gets a new president’ here

and why not throw in a human interest story about Despicable Me and other here

Be Advised!!!!!

Perhaps the average blog reader is far wiser than I and would never make this mistake.  And actually it’s kind of embarrassing to share, but if I can spare somebody else the pain, perhaps it will be worth admitting my stupidity.

The Drivers License Division had sent out a letter informing me of my upcoming need for renewing in person.  And though I have quit driving, and an ID card would be less expensive than a driver’s license, I would like to have that opportunity to renew for the long drives away from the city.

I don’t recall there being a website listed anywhere on the letter (I did look) and so because I didn’t have the address, I went to Google and typed in DMD – first mistake.  I should have typed in “renewal application for driver’s license in Utah” or something to that affect.

It’s so unlike me to choose the first site suggested to me by Google – but I saw the subheading of drivers license renewal and clicked on the site.   That first site was a .org, not a .gov.   Two more mistakes.

I don’t recall ever having been asked to pay for an application.  But I have never tried to renew on line (actually I was NOT trying to renew.  I just wanted an application so I could have it filled out before I arrived at the DLD.  I did question it.  I had asked Roland about it and told him what fee was involved and he told me to go for it.  And so I did.  I punched in our credit card # and the second I hit the send button, I noticed a strip at the top of the screen indicating that it was a private site and not associated with the government.

 

Drivers-Licenses.org is a privately owned website that is not owned or operated by any government agency.

GENERATE YOUR Driver License Easy Guide™

Uh-oh.  So I decide I will use it but CAN’T GET PASSED THE CRED CARD INFO.  I paid a fee for a service that wasn’t provided nor did I want.

So if you ever decide to download an application to take with you, make certain that you are on a .gov site and not a .org

mydriverslicense.org,  I HATE that you scammed me.  You weren’t helpful AT ALL!!!

You Can’t See The Wind

You can’t see the wind

But you can hear its ferocious roar

You can see the way the wind makes trees dance

or see branches swaying

or flags flapping in the wind

Sometimes it knocks over garbage cans

and circulates debris

Fall winds rip colored leaves

from the tree and send them racing

over streets and other yards.

Spring Winds seem more fearsome somehow

They suck  up all of my energy (what little is there)

and put me in coma

I feel quite drugged when the wind is blowing.

This is what someone with Narcolepsy

 must feel like.

I heard that it is a warm wind.

I heard that it is bringing in a storm.

That’s what was said about the last two winds

powerful winds that blew the debris and made a commotion

with its  mighty threats of breaking things  

but it hasn’t stormed.

This wind sounds more serious. 

I didn’t feel this wiped out the last two months

My eye is nearly healed,

unfortunately my mind is not

and the wind isn’t helping

My mind is  like a roof that has been

ripped off by the wind

 

or neglected rag doll waiting for

someone to love the life back into me

                                                                                  

                                                                                                                                         kfralc

More Parallels

Mom was at Alta Ridge and

on hospice care.  It was

a Friday.

She passed on

a Tuesday. 

Her funeral was

on a Saturday. 

Harold’s daughter-in-law

called me on

a Friday. 

Harold was still at

Alta Ridge and on

 hospice care. 

He passed on

a Tuesday. 

His funeral services will be

on Saturday.

We don’t have reason for

returning to the

 facility anymore.

 I hope that I will

never have a reason

to return.

Alley’s Mom

Her name is Maria Garcia.  Her son attends the junior high that I have passed each day since enrolling Jenna into a dual immersion program.  Juan had taken the bus to school each morning – for a while anyway.  Maria started driving him to school when the weather turned cold and the bus rides were even longer.  Jenna and I also took the bus.

About mid-December, Maria offered to drive us as well.  I thought that would end as the weather conditions got better – which they have.  We’ve had signs of spring at the end of February (I don’t recall EVER having spring so early before; seems so unfair when the nation’s capitol had to shut down due to the storms of winter.  Ouch!)

Maria continues to drive us.  She won’t accept payment for gas.  It’s really not that much.  But still, not much each day and week and month add up.  And I’m not spending money on bus passes anymore and so I have offered. 

The bus has never pulled into the school parking lot to let Jenna out; there has always been a good walk between the bus stop and the school – and then I’ve had to make the trip back but be home by 8:30 – usually.  Now I get back home at 8:00

 

 I have been more grateful some days more than others.  For the week of the sinus infection I was the most grateful.  And yesterday was wet and cold.  But today seemed rather nice.  I think we could start taking the bus again.  I’m not complaining.  Hey, if Maria wants to continue driving us, I’m okay with it.  And Jenna has been, too, actually.  Though I’m certain that will change once it warms up.

Thank you, Maria, for your willingness and gracious desire.  I truly appreciate it!

Removing Pains of February

I have never had a branch or knife gouge through my eye, but I would imagine the pain is very similar to what I have felt each year in February since moving to this cracker-box house in West Valley.  Apparently I had posted a few posts to my blog the first year I had it.  And I know I was driving.  This year I am in such awe that I was able to do it. 

Each year the pain has been worse than the last, and each year I have believed that death would be more preferable to the pain.  Because hey, once my spirit and body separate, I wouldn’t be able to experience the physical pain.

That first year I felt like a drug guinea pig.  Although the first drug issued was in December, but I had not posted the traumatic effects until February when the sinus pressure built up again.  I don’t know why I am so unfortunate to have this experience EVERY YEAR.  Enough is enough already (and I have had more than enough – thank you very much)

Worse than the pain is my distorted mind.  I feel so disconnected to my brain.  Last Sunday I did not attend Church for I knew that I would not get much (if anything) out of the meetings.

On Monday I went to a health clinic.  I told them which drug works best for me, and I got a prescription.  The packaging had changed and I’m guessing the formula did too.  It was after taking the meds that I felt worse.  I knew that the excruciating pain was due to the meds working to clear out the gunk.  I didn’t have dairy products or take any other kind of medication so that I wouldn’t jeopardize it. 

My eyelid and skin had surrounded my eye so that I was seeing the world through a slit.  I’d have the TV on and Roland would always turn it off – believing that my eyes were closed.  I didn’t realize how bad it looked until I went to put some eye drops in my eye.  It appeared that I had been stabbed by something or that a blood vessel had broken.  It was ugly – perhaps grotesque.

The next night the pain resembled that of a toothpick, and finally only a speck of dust which couldn't be removed.  Gradually the dark red faded into my natural white. 

I wrote a letter to Corey.  It took me three hours just to sort my thoughts.  If I read anything or write anything, it has got to be in a 24 font or higher.  It took me three hours to type up the letter and then the computer refused to save it and kicked me out of the system.

I cried.  I took the thumb to a different computer to see if anything was saved.  While I was waiting for the windows to open, I received a call from Harold’s daughter-in-law.  She called to inform me that Harold is now on hospice. I was crying.  But not about Harold.  Harold’s passing is actually a good thing.  I was still upset about the lost letter.  But it turns out it saved more than I thought.

I had the lesson to give yesterday.  Let me rephrase that.  I was supposed to give the lesson.  I had a few thoughts.  Not 30 minutes worth however.  I felt like a stone trying to keep myself propped up.  I was in a trans.  I would have been better off if I had stayed in bed.  Perhaps my class would have, too.

It has been a week since I went to the doctor. I feel better today than yesterday and certainly better than last week.  But not great still.  I still have a pain behind my eye.  But at least it’s not gouging.  It’s irritating.  But at least I can think more clearly than I could just yesterday or when I typed up Corey’s letter.  I miss him a lot.

I'm sorry that Roland says he is not feeling well, and I hope he isn't getting this same sinus infection that I have/had.  There are few people I would wish this pain upon: Hitler, Bin Laden, those who caused such horrible pain would still not experience the pain they caused.  But it would be a good start I suppose.

I’m grateful to those who are skilled in medicine and are able to create potions to put inside of little pills so that we might feel better.  How horrible it would be if we had to endure such pain without medicine.  

Saying Good-Bye to Mom's Angel

I wondered which one of us (me or my brother Corey) would post about Harold first.  I came up with most of these thoughts and typed them in by 1:00 am this morning - but only drafted it as I had no title.

Last year we (my sibs and I) put mom into an assisted living program as she was in need of 24/7 care.  This time last year she was trying to escape.  She wore her coat and carried her purse and would walk around the doors and windows of the facility – looking for a way out.  She wasn’t happy there – not all the time anyway.

By mid April, mom had accepted her new home and was reading everything she could get her hands on.  She didn’t retain anything.  But she did read.

I don’t think it was until May when she developed an attraction to Harold and soon the two became inseparable.  I find it interesting that Corey created this post on June 3.  Mom has a boyfriend.  And just one month later I created this post indicating that he was not.  Depending on her mood.

Actually, I don’t ever recall mom referring to Harold as her boyfriend.  That was more from our point of view.  It really depended on mom’s mood and the turn of events that took place each day.

Harold had known that mom was diabetic and was not supposed to have sugar.  And some days he’d scold her or strongly advice against satisfying her “sugar eating desire” Those were the days when she would not even acknowledge Harold as a friend.  He became “that guy” – an intrusive resident. 

Other days (I’m finding in most cases) mom was infatuated so much that she would rather remain in the company of Harold than to have to leave him in order to visit with one of us.  Corey lovingly wrote this post about feeling like “second fiddle” – but not really.  It did seem somewhat comical at times.

In the beginning, Harold was just “an old man – old enough to be mom’s father” or so she’d say.  I figured there were probably a good number of years between them – nothing that drastic however.  I had asked Harold his age and learned it was a twelve-year difference.  The same as with my sister and her husband.

By August mom was beaming while telling people about her friend, Harold.  In her mind they were only five years apart.  I find it interesting that her mind had gone from one extreme to another in only two months.  For each month she lived there, she fully believed it had been another year.

Harold was quite bent over.  For the most part when I saw him, he was wearing blue scrubs.  He was very positive and always wore a smile on his face.  He and my mom were so very happy to have one another.  Funny how they never sat together for meals.  Except for mealtime, rarely was one ever seen without the other.

On September first, after mom was found upon the floor and rushed to the hospital, the staff told Harold to get rid of all of his candy.  Harold blamed himself for mom’s condition.  But it wasn’t his fault.  A few fun-sized candy bars would not have made her blood count go that high.  Two truckloads of candy would probably not have made her blood sugar go that high.

We thought she would die in the hospital.  Harold had made arrangements for one of his sons to bring him to the hospital to see her.  He was all decked out in suit and tie.  He came in to visit with mom and held her hand and talked to her with his loving voice. 

Mom didn’t wish to die in the hospital.  She wanted to return to the assisted living.  She lay in her room in a hospital bed and Harold would come to visit – knowing she would pass.  He was ever so gentle with her.  He loved her. And she him.

When he wasn’t in her room, he would visit with Joh and tell him things about his relationship with my mom.  Joh said it was my mom’s desire for she and Harold to wed and maybe have a child together.  Harold had reminded her that they both had spouses already.

At the funeral he rushed to the casket for one last good-bye.  I had never seen Harold move so quickly.  It was also the straightest I had ever seen his posture.

After she died, Harold tried to return to living without her.  He wanted to smile and help with the residents the way he had before.  And he did . . . for a while.  But in time the smile faded.  He missed mom!  There was no doubt about it.

Corey would call him.  Kayla and I would visit on occasion.  Jenna and I would take the bus.  We may have stopped when we no longer had bus passes.  But I would write to him and call him and let him know we would come see him when the weather cleared.

I thought we could go during Jenna’s Valentine/Presidents Day holiday – unfortunately she got sick.  And I am currently with my annual February sinus infection.  I planned to call him when my head cleared.  I guess there’s no sense in calling.  His daughter-in-law called me and told me that Harold is now on hospice.  That is a good thing really. 

The last two times that Jenna and I did visit was heart breaking.  Harold seemed so bent to the floor that it appeared his head was nearly in alignment with his feet.  He was banged up in different places each time we would visit.  He had taken I don’t know how many spills.  He would walk us to the door but he had slowed down.  But he’s going to be whole again pretty soon.  And he will finally be able to meet dad.  He and mom can have a reunion and the two couples can have a party.  It will be great!

I’m sorry that Harold declined so much after my mom passed.  I am sorry he became so sad.  He really didn’t enjoy living there.  And now he won’t have to anymore.  Thank you, Harold, for befriending mom and for allowing her to experience the joy.  May you share some great moments in the afterlife as well.