Not Often My Favorite Day of the Week

                I don't know for certain how many children Raone had, but suspect there were at least eight.  Leisel was among the eldest.  Roane was a devout member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and was diligent in her callings and offering service.  Leisel did not recognize her mother's great efforts.  Instead, she grew up resenting her mother's choices with neglecting her own family and blamed the church.  When she was eighteen, Leisel moved out of the house, she never had her name removed from the records of the church, but had stopped attending meetings and I believe disconnected herself from the family that she had helped raise. 

          I remember meeting her only once.  She was nice enough and seemed to have her act together - perhaps not financially.  She remained positive so long as church or family were not the topic of conversation - otherwise she would disappear. 

          I don't recall how Raone and her husband ended up living in the house that Leisel and her husband had purchased in Kearns.  I think they must have been paying Leisel and her husband rent.  I'm aware of the tension that Leisel felt growing up - especially on Sundays when the family members were given instructions on how to act, dress, behave, and so forth.  I don't know if the same tension existed for her when she was an adult.

          Raone was not in the best of health, but continued serving as best as she could and Leisel continued to stay away from the church.  As a teenager, I hadn't particularly liked Sundays either.  There was always so much tension particularly with my mom and one of my younger sibs. I had thought it was her and Corey that had a squabbling fest each week, but he says that her verbal arrows were aimed towards Kayla - which surprises me. 

          I do remember Kayla being independent and wearing some outlandish outfits as she always insisted she could dress herself - but Kayla didn't talk much.  For the most part I remember different family members taking advantage of her willingness to become our personal slave.  In my mind Corey was the opinionated know-it-all who didn't always agree.  It really doesn't matter which one - the point is that there was always tension in the house on Sunday.  For the most part I would choose to stay in my room and try to avoid any confrontation.  I hated Sundays, but not as much as mom appeared to as we'd get into the car and she had the look of an angry person ready to kill; not someone who was even close to eager to go to Church. 

          It's so weird to think about it now.  I'm happy that we outgrew whatever it was that made us so uptight on Sundays.  If Leisel's memories of Sunday were anything like that memory, I understand why she would stay away from Church - especially if it continued her whole existence - whereas my situation was not the same every year.  It fortunately did get better and I had actually forgotten all about the tension or Leisel and Raone until the last three Sundays after Roland's gotten on Jenna's case based upon her appearance.  It's true that Jenna is quite casual about her appearance and should probably put more thought into it but I am not going to harp on it the way that Roland does.  She's a rebel like I was and may start doing it out of spite and stubbornness.  I don't wish for her to feel bad about who she is or stop being who she is because of criticism.   By the time we get to Church, none of us want to be there. 

          There was an impromptu choir (because that's all we can seem to manage with this ward) and Jenna and I both went up.  I smiled as I would playing a part on stage.  That's all I was doing - playing a part.  Roland is not one to hold grudges.  He is always the first to apologize, but it took him longer on Sunday.  A lot longer.  And Jenna and I both cried about it.

          The theme has been on self-reliance - which really is an important topic - but I don't generally feel the Spirit anymore.  I feel more like I am at a rally or seminar and not church.  Missionaries have been working with many who need to hear the words that are spoken.  It is their turn, not mine.  I feel like I am going through the motions every week.  Sunday really isn't my favorite day of the week.  I guess Satan's probably happy about that.

          Unlike Leisel, I did not fill neglected by the service and compassion mom had shown others.  She was a great example for me and I loved to assist.  Mom taught me many values.  Thanks, Mom.

That movie went on and on . . . the plot, Forgotten

          The cinema movie offered to the seniors this week was Dunkirk - which Roland wanted to go and see, but it was on Wednesday which overall is NOT the best day for me - especially when I have two classes.  Roland was finishing up his assignment and Corey was coming to town (and there is no movie that I would rather see over my brother, Corey) and I wasn't going to jeopardize that!  Roland's plan was to take me on a date to the theatre last night.  Unfortunately the last showing was on Thursday, and so we ended up not going to the big city of Roseburg. 

          Instead we decided to go rent movies from Redbox.  We drove to the  one located by McDonald's.  I was watching two men, one in a cherry picker and one in the McDonald's sign - which actually looks further up in the air when there is a cherry picker and crew inside the sign.  I wished I would have had my camera.  You think with all the times I've not had it with me, I would learn.  But no.  I was too lazy to have taken anything - even proper shoes.

          We selected two movies: Meagan Leavey and the Zoo Keeper's Wife,

but there was a problem with the machine and we couldn't get any farther than checking out the movies.  As Roland continued to fiddle with Redbox, I continued to watch the view of the two persons (I could only see the one on the cherry picker but figured there was also at least one in the sign itself).

          We drove to another Redbox location on the other end of town.  Roland couldn't find the Zoo Keeper's Wife and had selected the latest King Kong.  We did not spend as much time at the second RedBox.  We collected the two movies and returned to our house to watch them.

          I really liked Megan Leavey, which is the first movie we watched.  I  thought Kate Mara looked a lot like the real Megan Leavey.  What a remarkable turn-around of her life.

          I don't know what possessed us to watch King Kong in its entirety.  I think we both thought something would happen - maybe a plot would unfold.  I

t was kind of like a rip off of Jurassic Park meshed with some other movie. I saw Planet of the Apes, the Incredible Hulk and dare I saw Honey, I Shrunk the Kids?  We apparently lost sight of why the group had gone to Skull Island in the first place.  My recommendation would be that you do not waste your time on watching this King Kong but rent one of the other mentioned movies instead.  And the creatures, by the way, looked as realistic to me as the ones used in the King Kong movies back in 1976.

          This morning on facebook I posted a bogus picture of cherry picker raised to McDonald sign with the caption: "If you have a fear of heights, changing light bulbs in the McDonald's sign is NOT for you."  I don't know if that is actually what they were doing.  It certainly was interesting to watch - though from my point of view, there wasn't much to see, except for the inside of the sign which is normally yellow appeared to have open slats of white shining through.

Domestic Attempts

            I had finished two of my assignments on Wednesday but had  not turned in as accounting consisted of a two part and I had only done one.  My financial assignment sounded as though I was stumbling over my words (which I was) and probably came across like I had no clue (I have some - but not 600 words worth) and so I wanted to re-read it, make certain it made sense before I turned it in - but would need a fresh start on Thursday.

            Somewhere along the line I had lost 200 words. I prayed, I cried, I stressed,  I did more research.  I think it sounded better than my first, but will never know for certain.  I was a wreck.  I had asked Roland to help me with the other part as he has been looking at charts and numbers and figures and can understand them better than I can.  I turned in both assignments, completed both assessments and had freed up my Friday! 

            I cleaned/straightened house, did laundry, dishes.  And after a while, I decided to take a break - after all I hadn't done my daily checkpoints or posted to my blog.  I had also decided that I would straighten out a project I've been working on for upcoming baptisms.

            I hadn't done much with my project when Roland suggested we make some apple juice.  Really?  Now?

            He'd purchased a juicer from a second hand store.  Until then, I didn't appreciate the high cost of juice.  Run four apples through a machine for possibly just one ounce.  ONE OUNCE?  Are you kidding me?  Does that mean I need 16 apples for a really small glass?  I personally didn't think it was worth all the stress (not to mention waste) but hey, we had possibly 30 apples left and so we worked on the juicing process together.

            I kept asking him if we needed to shut the juicer off to give it a breather as it sounded like the motor was having stress.  I recognize the stress motored sound.  I would often run a vacuum cleaner near Jenna's bed when she was little because the motor helped her go to sleep.  The motor also burned out.

            The juice tasted good, but the color reminded me of vomit - not appetizing to the eye at all.

            I did not realize that when I took a picture of this juicer, it would be in the garbage can just twenty minutes later.  On the plus side, I didn't have to clean it - though cleaning the parts was not that hard, nor was assembling the juicer.  But it is gone now.  What a shame.

            Roland took out the Ninja - which is possibly what we should have used and had never purchased the juicer in the first place and I took the apple slop out to the compost before putting the parts in the garbage can.

            We filled up an apple juice bottle.  If I saw this on the shelf, I would not buy it

While I cleaned out the blender

  Roland took the goop that was left in the strainer and made some more applesauce.  But unlike our first, this one has a weird texture to it because of the peels.   

I couldn't find matching lids and rings and so

I put the very last bit in a pickle jar. 

 I baptismal project still remains to be worked on.

High School Reunion Without Internet

          My dad graduated from high school in 1954 or 1955.  I think he attended every class reunion there was until he got sick.  I think my mom must have attended all of his high school reunions as well. She has never gone to her own.  Nor have I.  Mostly I didn't care.  I didn't even like high school.  Why would I want to go back?

          I believe the first high school reunion offered a barbeque at a local park I believe on a Saturday afternoon - and may have attended that one had I been in town, but I was on my mission at the time.   The second reunion announced was located at some prestige resort in Park City.  I didn't have that much money to spend nor did I believe there would be many there that I would want to see for that much money anyway.  I don't remember being invited to another reunion after that - not that it would have mattered.  I hung around seniors all three years in high school - and more in the first year than the last two combined.  My senior year was actually a lonely memory.  Not a lot of good memories there.

          Roland and I have a friend in McMinnville who was in Roland's graduating class.  Enthusiastically she had contacted us both to say that there was a reunion in New Jersey on September 16, and perhaps the three classmates who ended up in Oregon could meet at Beth's house and talk to their former classmates through Skype.

          Roland, Jenna and I left the house just before 8:00 a.m. and headed toward McMinnville.  We  stopped at the Costco in Salem.  Every Costco I have ever been to doesn't open until 10:00.  The Costco in Salem opens before 9:00 - that would explain the overly full parking lot at only 10:20.  I felt like I was back in Salt Lake with the heavy amount of traffic and somehow felt like an even larger sea of people in the aisles.  Did not care for that at all.  Don't think I would like to live in Salem after all.

          We arrived at Beth's before the other couple.  Their former classmate has the same first name as I.  Roland did not remember her.  But they did remember all of the same people for the most part.  They reminisced about those they knew from high school and what things are going on now.  Beth could not get her server to work the entire time we were there.  Just as well.  The phone never rang and so they didn't get to talk with any of their other classmates.  But I think they actually enjoyed it more than they would have with wall-to-wall faces and no breathing room.

          Graham had prepared a really nice meal for us.  There was London Broil, tuna steaks, potato salad, and assorted vegetables.  I think the others brought the cheesy potatoes.  Graham had also made the best avocado dip I have ever tasted.  There was a trifle for dessert.

          Beth had asked if we'd be staying overnight.  We had packed a bag thinking we might stop in Salem on the way home, but for some reason the car ride home always seems a lot quicker than the destination from home.  Roland drove straight to the house.  We had only stopped one time to use the facilities. 

          Between Salem and Eugene Jenna and I watched the sunset for forty minutes.  I wish I had pictures of what we saw - but at 65 mph and a point and shoot, I knew the pictures would not capture the true beauty that we had seen.

A Passing Phase Perhaps . . .

        From the time she was eight years old, Jenna had always asked me for her own personal facebook account.  She enjoyed watching the JibJabs that my brother-in-law will occasionally post and wanted the opportunity to make comments herself instead of having me type "Jenna says . . ."  Over the years, many of her friends started their facebook accounts and she would ask if she could start one.  Each year the request was included on birthday or Christmas lists.  At the end of 2014 I created this post. 
     
          It wasn't until we had moved to Oregon - so far away from our family - that I understood why so many of her friends may have had "illegal accounts" as they all had family members they didn't have many opportunities to spend time with.  We had lived in Oregon for almost a year when I set up an "illegal" facebook account for her.  The objective was to keep contact with her brothers and aunts and uncles.  At first she seemed leery about adding people whose names she didn't recognize (good for her), but after a while many school mates made it to the facebook friend list.  She  found former acquaintances she had known in different parts of Salt Lake.  She had fun creating posts and playing games - though I had reminded her several times that is not why the account had been created.  I discouraged her from playing games or sharing her profile.  I don't know how many times she was hacked.  I suggested that she change her password either weekly or bi-monthly.

            I think the novelty had worn off as it had for me in this post.  There are certainly some advantages and disadvantages of being on facebook. After a year, Jenna is bored with facebook and asked if we could delete her account.  We haven't figured out how to close it permanently and so currently it's just deactivated until she decides that she would like to use it again.  And it's okay if she decides not to return.  My brother, Patrick has never had an account nor do I suspect he ever will.  There are leaders in the primary who don't have accounts. 
          I think it is a great source of communicating among certain groups.  I know many who post for upcoming Church activities, or community functions or family gatherings.  In fact I have given examples here and here and I've known some who have been inconvenienced when they no longer have that connection (for instance it was the policy of  Granite School District that all employees must not have facebook contact with the students;  one of my facebook friends, who fixes computers at all the schools in the district, was expected to delete those students he kept in contact with to make them aware of scouting events that had nothing to do with the school - but it was for protection reasons that the "unfriending" thing happened)

            Jenna isn't great at controlling her emotions - especially during that time of the month.  But hey, I was a teenage girl who had issues with that time of the month.  I understand.  Facebook didn't exist when I was her age, but I'm certain I would have gotten bored with it also.  She loves to draw and color.  It's the only passion she's been consistent about.  Everything else has been a fad.  Perhaps one day she will find something that she is willing to hang onto. Perhaps she will do something with her art.  She says she would like to lean towards cartooning.  That would be cool.

Oh, The Beautiful Sound of Rain!

        Though I am certain there are many who would not agree with the title of this post, particularly those who have been affected by Irma and Harvey. Even my brother who had planned on taking his husband to see the gardens in Victoria after selling Joh's art in Washington 

but took the rain as an opportunity to rest and visit with family rather than spend yet another day driving.   For those of us who have been surrounded by smoke and fires, it has been a desired gift for some time.  Hopefully more fires will be put out, much of the smoke has already cleared.  I know it will help with my breathing, my poor dry skin, and my balance. 

        I actually hadn't considered my balance before, but have been fighting off ear infections in my right ear.  That would be related to my balance, right?  Sometime after Roland and I had moved to West Valley, I started having issues with my balance.  My theory was low ceilings and lack of ventilation had contributed to my instability of movement.  Of course, the balance thing was even a greater challenge when I felt distorted whenever I’d first wake up or because of the tremendous amount of sinus infections I would experience (all in the West Valley house; I have not experienced that degree before or since)

        After my dad had had a series of strokes and was unstable on his feet, we had purchased him a tall cane and then a tall walker.  He must have been bent over when using the walker though, as I can reach my arms out at a comfortable position and I don’t have to bend     After we had cleaned out my mom’s house, Patrick ended up taking my dad’s walker.  Apparently, he also had the one that had belonged to my maternal grandma but I did not know that at the time.

        Because of my instability to move around during the night (because I drink a lot of water and my bladder is not as large as it used to be) I asked him if I could have the walker and started using it not long after my mom had passed away.  That’s when I realized he had two walkers as he had given me both as he thought dad’s might be too tall for me. 

        Oh, like a really could have used grandma’s!  I don’t even remember her being that short!  She must have really been hunched over!  I don’t even think that thing came up to my knees!  I think that is seriously the tiniest walker I have ever seen. .  What is it with getting such short walkers to assist with the walking.  I don't recall many walker users who haven't ended up leaning over and creating an even greater problem with their deformed backs as they had with their unstable legs.  But that's beside the point.

        We brought dad’s walker with us to Oregon.  I had no need for it when we were living in the first house we had rented.  I never felt distorted or unbalanced and hadn’t used it for over two years now.  But I have recently started using it again.  Ever since our trip to Medford.

        I think if we had a vehicle that rides high up – like a truck – where I have my legs bent at the knee in a dinner-chair-seated position, it might not be an issue.  But long rides with my leg in a straight or semi-bent is too much hard on my right leg.  I noticed that before we arrived in Medford last month that my right leg was really hurting.

        I believe I could have done without the assistance of the walker this morning.  I no longer feel distorted.  My hair feels soft again and so I think the rest of me will be feeling better like how I was meant to feel - our entire purpose of moving to Oregon.  I'm very grateful for the rain.  Overall, I really love this time of year.  Still missing my Utah family.  I know that coming to Oregon was/is the right move for me.  Now that we've had a wonderful rain, I can breathe again.

Overwhelmed

          As I have already mentioned, I had started two classes on Labor Day this month.  One in managerial accounting and the other in financing.  My accounting class seems like a refresher course as there is some familiarity within the topics. It also feels like a prequel to my financing class and I wish I had it BEFORE my financing class and not side-by-side as I tend to get the two mixed up and have actually turned in one assignment for one class into the other.

          Fortunately I have really good instructors in both classes who have been able to give me feedback right away instead of waiting until the end of the week as was the case with my last instructor who did announce ahead of time that his grading day is Sunday and that is it.

          I am having the hardest time with the subject at hand.  Valuation principals and investments and blah, blah, blah . . . One class asks me how a manager makes a decision (no, it isn't my managerial accounting, it's the other one . . . see what I mean) and so I look up all of these references for one class and end up using them for the other class.

          Most of my accounting assignments have been in excel and so I don't have to have all those references in my back up file.  When I am asked to write about a personal finance decision (wrong again - the 300 word project about personal financing is for the accounting class; it is the second part to be handed in along with the excel assignment) I am looking at all these words and definitions trying hard to apply it to my personal life, but they're all business words and I am not a business and I have absolutely no desire to be!

          We make estimated guesses.  We cannot predict the future.  We can't control what downfall the economy may have to endure due to natural disasters.  I have so many thoughts in my head and they are spilling over.  I don't like the riled up emotion I feel when I am trying to answer the questions.  Roland has always been able to separate business from personal life.  Not me.  I cannot keep my emotions out of it!

          And then there is the scrapbook I had gone through that has triggered all sorts of thoughts.  I knew I couldn't sit down and write just one post and do my assignments.  So I broke my thoughts into several posts that still managed to beg for me to write them - and hey, why not?  I couldn't focus on my assignments anyway. I'm not worried about failing the class.  I've been getting As the entire time except for one class - with an instructor who would pass out virtual caramels - I was late turning in an assignment and so did not get full credit.  I think I was taking two classes at that time also. 

          I feel fortunate that I had only one class in July and one class last mod.  I don't know how I managed with the two classes that started on the day of Jeanie's funeral.  I felt like I had been in a coma for three weeks.  Perhaps that is the secret - have my subconscious take over.  I just felt so tired I don't think it was possible to experience emotion.  Since school started for Jenna, I've been neglecting the library also.  I find it necessary  to take a breather.

Reminiscing 70+ years: Dreams

            Mom loved to dance, but didn't have many  opportunities to do so as it wasn't one of dad's favorite things.  She told me that she was a brilliant choreographer during her sleep and she would dance the night away.  She said she wished she were as active during the day and that perhaps she could lose some weight.  I think often my mom felt self-conscience about her appearance  and perhaps did not pursue her dreams of dancing as she didn't figure she had the figure for it.
          She did seem to lose weight whenever she was involved in a sewing project - usually clothes for me.  I know she made matching shirts for the entire family when Kayla was just a baby.  She did make a couple of matching outfits for me and Kayla.  But as I think about it, I believer most of her projects she made were clothes for me.
           I liked wearing something that had been made for me personally from fabric that I had chosen - even what might have been "drape" material for a kid's room.  She never discouraged me from wearing what she may have thought of as bizarre. I would  rather be in something that I helped design than look like a billboard advertising a certain brand of jeans.  I didn't know that we were poor and it was just less costly to make clothing. 
          When mom wasn't dreaming about dancing, she said she was often sewing in her dreams, and she would make elaborate designs.  But there are a few times she would share really bizarre dreams with us.  There is only one that I can remember in detail, but I will share two,
          The first one happened on a family trip.  We'd been vacationing in Yellowstone  I would guess.  Mom had a dream about fishes who had taken on human personalities.  She said the leader of the fish walked and talked like John Wayne. 

But that is all that I remember.

          The other dream involved the bedspread.  This is not an accurate picture, but something similar to how her bread spread appeared.

         

     This is the bed spread she slept beneath when she was having her "Cotton-Picking" dream.  She said she was on a plantation picking cotton for what felt like hours.  She could feel herself working hard - so hard in facet, that when she woke up she was perspiring . 

          It took several minutes for her eyes to adjust.  She had been wearing glasses for most of her life, and her vision was quite distorted without them.  She looked at the floor and saw a bunch of linty fuzz scattered between her bed and the TV and wondered what it was and why it was there. 

          She had indeed worked hard at picking that cotton - but not just in her dream.  Her hands were busy feeling the little balls upon her bed spread.  Mom had managed to single-handedly ruin her bed spread while she dreamed.  For as she was picking cotton from plants in her dream, she'd been tugging at the stringed pattern that held her bed spread together.  It is funny but yet it's not - at least not at the time.  I don't know if she ever got that physically active with any of her other dreams.

Reminiscing 70+ years part

55.    She taught me to take care of my body.
56.    She was a good daughter.

                   My maternal grandma lived with mom's youngest brother so that she wouldn't have to be alone in her apartment (that was really too large for just one person).  After Roland and I had been married for about a year, my uncle sent my grandma out to Salt Lake for a visit.  She did get sick  after three or four weeks.  She died in the hospital in Salt Lake.  I know my mom was grateful to have had the opportunity to spend their final moments together.

57.    She worked for the FBI, and that just sounds cool.

          Mom started out working for the FBI in San Francisco.  Her goal was to leave an empty desk knowing full well there would be paperwork added to it by the following morning - the idea of having an empty desk gave her satisfaction as though her day's work had been fulfilled.  She had just one job that might have gotten tedious after a while.  She said the thing she enjoyed about working at the FBI in Salt Lake as opposed to San Francisco was that there was a larger variety of work to be done instead of doing only one task.

58.    She's one of my best friends.

          Again, I don't remember which examples Corey shared, but my own include our Lucy/Ethel moments found here and much of what Corey mentions in this post.

59.    She makes good meals.

                   I believe that shortly after her parents' divorce,  my mom had started making meals for her brothers.  She did not use much in the way of seasoning or spices.  She would often fix spaghetti, hamburger rice casserole, ham chowder and potato salad - all staples that we loved and did not have leftovers too often. 

                        Roland uses seasonings.  I enjoy his  cooking quite a bit.  He spoiled me.  I didn't enjoy my mom's food so much after Roland and I were married.

60.    I's fun to argue with her.

                    Of course mom was always right, and the world does not go according to Greenwich mean time as you may think; the world sets their clocks according to June Cannon's watch.

61.    She gives great hugs.

          Must be where Jenna gets it from

62.    She taught me to appreciate the beauty of the earth.

63.    She taught me to go through life with and even temperament
64.    She showed me how to be a good neighbor.
65.    I just think she's cute.
66.    She's always treated my friends well.
67.    She's kind to others.
68.    She helped make our home a place of peace and love.
69.    She likes to dance.

          always dreamed of dancing of sewing - except for the John Wayne and cotton picking dreams - which  I had shared to somebody else's blog but can't seem to find          them on my own.  I guess I could do a final "remincing" post about those two dreams.

70.    She's really the  best mom a guy could ask for.

  

Thanks, Mom, for all you have caused and inspired me to be.  Thank you for loving me for who I am.  And thanks for being the best mom in the world.

Reminiscing 70+ years part 6

37.    She's soft-spoken

                   Kayla, Mom and I recorded our voices to tape one year. My mom was sitting directly over the tape recorder and  I was across the room.  My voice came in more clear than my mom's;  to this day Corey and I will remember her soft voice while speaking in normal tone and mimicking "I am yelling" though we are obviously not.

38.    She's generous.

                   I'm sure it was through her generosity that each of her children felt the need to be generous as best as we can.

39.    She's given me financial support.

                   She would often "give" us money to pay back loans or to purchase a needed item;  she would often do if without our even asking.

40.    I love her incoherent late-night conversations.

                   My brothers were always better at the late night conversations than I.  I was tired.  I wanted to go to bed.  Mom would have to unwind.  Often she fell asleep with the TV on.  One time she took pictures of Patrick and I building a snowman at 2:00 a.m. - one of the few times I hadn't gone to bed less than ten minutes after we returned home.

41.    She's directionally challenged.

                        There are family members who have inherited this quality.  I would be lost without the GPS - literally.

42.    She helped me to appreciate music.

43.    She showed a great deal of trust in me when I was growing up.

                   I don't know what example Corey used, but one that often comes to my mind is allowing each of us to drive the car, even after an incident like the first example found here.          

44     She was a night-owl at one time like me.

45.    She taught me to be honest.
46.    She's a good example of service.

          There was a sister in the ward who was receiving dialysis treatments - which are given several times a week.  The sister did not drive and Mom assisted with driving several times during the month.  She may have also felt like the care giver as she devoted much of her time towards my paternal great-grandmother, my paternal grandmother  and my dad.  She  was able to serve her own mother during the last month of her life also.

            She instilled into each of us the willingness to serve the way that she had.

47     She showed me the importance of family.

48.    She raised well-adjusted kids

                   One thing that we've got going for us that many families unfortunately don't, is trust.  We trust each others.  We trust in the values we were taught.  I think we are fortunate to deal with death in the manner which we do.  I feel very blessed to have turned out how I did and highly regard my sibs and their spouses and children as well.

49     She shows a great love for her religion.

                   Mom was so diligent about fulfilling her callings and putting in effort to participating in lessons given by others;  I hadn't appreciated her devotion until after the dementia started robbing her of her mind.

50.    She has shown a great deal of support for my goals.

                   When Corey was six years of age or so, he had decided that he would grow up to be an actor.  Mom supported him by going to every one of his plays - even out of town or out of state.

51.    She's shared her life history with me.

52.    She buys ice cream.
53.    She's prayful.

                   Lot of prayers.  Here is just one example

54.    She taught me to keep a journal

                   Corey and I both kept journals and detailed letters.  Writing was not a favorite pastime for Patrick.  I don't recall Kayla keeping a journal either.  But the  letters she sent home from her mission were more informative than Patrick's.  Mom and I had always wished Patrick would have said more.