"you shouldn't judge a book by its cover" - what lies beneath could bear an element of surprise
The ward had announced the upcoming primary program – which was held today. I had a much better attitude towards it this year than in years past. I looked for the joy as the upcoming lesson for Relief Society was taken from Elder Kearon’s talk (here)
And reminisced of past posts here and here
I truly did experience joy.
I don't know what it is like in other states or if COVID is
to blame for the system or what have you - but just being able to land a test
driving appointment is no small feat. A person has to visit the site not
only daily but multiple times throughout the day - hourly if possible.
Jaime started her search in June or July and finally landed an appointment with
the Roseburg DMV on September 9th but continued her search until something
opened up in Canyonville. September 10. Had we known then what we
know now we would have just kept both.
We arrived a half an hour early to appointment. The room was the busiest I have ever seen it.
She wasn’t able to check in until 15 minutes prior to the appointment
time. We had proof of insurance but no expiration
date. She was dismissed and could not
take the test.
We were given information for third party testing – which she did in
Roseburg. The instructor had her turn
onto a one way street – which she has never done before. She made the turn for the furthest lane over
and was failed. She didn’t know.
She was gracious about it afterward saying it was probably a blessing
that she hadn’t been tested in Canyonville and had to learn about the one ways
as Ashland is full of them and she would like Ashland to be a regular destination.
Meanwhile I checked DMV on a daily basis and signed her up for
multiples. Her first appointment was in
Roseburg – their waiting room was a far cry from Canyonville – more empty seats
– no waiting at all. They took her
before the allotted check in time. She
was told she ran a red light which she says she did not do. Next appointment: Grants Pass.
Grants Pass is what I consider the halfway mark between here and Medford
Temple. The drive was between 40 and 60
minutes. When we arrived there was a
line outside the doors. Everyone was
being turned away due to the servers being down. The biggest problem – Jaime didn’t even want
her license. Why all this hassle for
something she doesn’t even want?
The last test she took was in Roseburg.
Meanwhile I had booked four more appointments – three in December. Thankfully she passed at her last appointment
(third party taken Oct 7) and in an unfamiliar car. Another from the friend group received his the
following day. She thought she would be
the last of her friends to get her license but had him beat by 25 hours.
Yesterday she took her first long drive by herself. She went to Medford to meet a group of
friends and drove herself home after the activity. I am so happy for her and pleased with her
decisions. She really is an awesome
human being!
When I was in primary I remember a class that was given to the instructors once a month – at least it seemed it was once a month and somewhere along the line that changed to once a quarter. I loved that class. I wish it had been better attended. I guess some classes were well attended. The ones I had attended were not. I guess that’s why it dwindled. A couple of years ago the class was offered on a Saturday morning with breakfast as an insentive. One of these classes was offered the last Saturday in September.
Our
second counselor drives 45 minutes from Tiller.
He walked in a few minutes late and was wearing sports shorts and a
baseball cap. I wasn’t offended in any
way, but thought it odd. He then got up
to teach and told us to grab some doughnuts and he would return in just a
few. When he returned he was dressed as
he normally is on Sunday and introduced the lesson with “dressing for the role
to be taken seriously” . . . he then asked a few of us about our garden, job,
week, etc. and proceeded to give a
really great lesson. Reminders to come
prepared and have a backup just in case.
On
Sunday I was on my way to church and accepted an assignment to teach a primary
class. I looked over the lesson about
ten minutes before hand and adapted some of the things I had learned the
morning prior. It went well for me. I still don’t miss being in primary. I do enjoy being in Relief Society.
unfortunately somewhat of a short post. unfortunate because of lack of contact.
Before
starting my senior year in high school I had gone to San Francisco to visit my
Grandma Mary. Uncle Bruce picked me up
at the airport. I hadn’t seen him for
quite some time and wasn’t even certain
that it was him. I got in the car with
him anyway.
I remember spending one day with his
wife and son. They had two cats. I remember Joe had used two different methods
of discipline one for each cat. I also
remember holding him when he was a baby.
When Jaime was two or three she
received a child sleeping bag from one of the neighbors. Bruce was visiting my mom and I happened to
have the sleeping bag in the car. I was
having problems rolling it up and asked Bruce if he could show me as I knew he
was an experienced camper. Jaime
unrolled the bed at least twice while he was there. I think she thought it was a game.
I remember my other uncle having an
upright piano in his house. It had been
painted bright orange.
I remember having listened to his record collection without realizing that it was his. He had served as a police officer and said the mission district was his least favorite. I remember Grandma having put me on the train at the mission underground. I got off at a station above ground. I remember meeting my uncle at the transport system in Lafayette. I spent a Sunday with the family. I do not recall our interaction with one another.
When my uncle returned me to the train station in Lafayette he gave me specific instructions not to go upstairs once I arrived at the mission but to wait for grandma to come and get me. I related this to my mom after my trip was over. My smiled at the thought on how I was to wait underground for a little old lady to come and save me.
I met my cousin’s wife when we had gone to Salem for a convention. Our
visit with them was an hour or so. Same
with the convention. Richard, Jaime and I were the only non-staff who
attended. We won the two door prizes
that were offered. They had tons of food
and told us to take as much as we wanted.
I called my cousin and his wife and gave the address and told them to
bring containers. They did not come. And
we had a three hour drive so we didn’t take any food. What a waste.
My mom seemed to be close with each of
her brothers. I do not believe they were
close to each other.
I have twelve cousins – eight on my dad’s side and four on my mom’s. My parents are each the eldest in their families. Dad has a brother two years younger and baby sister (they are about twelve years apart). My mom has two brothers. All of my dad’s family lived in the Salt Lake area except for the few years that my Uncle and Aunt lived in Denver for a couple of years – that could be a different post and was several decades in the past.
My mom’s family lived in different parts of
northern California. My mom’s first
brother and his wife had three children – a boy and two girls. The youngest brother and his wife had adopted
a boy. We had visited our cousins on occasion
but didn’t know much
about them beyond their names. And even with that one I am not certain of his
given name. I had thought it was Joshua
and they changed it to Josiah. He went
by Joe so I am not sure what is was. I am five years older than the oldest of
my cousins on my mom’s side. None of us are close.
The eldest cousin lives in Oregon. Richard, Jaime and I have visited him and his
wife five or six years ago. That was
it. Our only visit with him as an adult
and probably only three when we were in our youth. I’ve had contact with his youngest
sister on facebook but nothing recent – until yesterday.
My mom and her first brother
passed away the same year. His children
had given us updates about his health. He died shortly mom had moved into assisted
living. Their youngest brother had come
to see mom a few weeks after he passed. She passed four months after he did.
And yesterday both of my brothers recived phone messages
from San Mateo welfare system –
one viewed it as a scam but the other one answered. The call was to inform them of the passing of
our uncle and as his son had passed the year prior the posterity of his siblings
would be the sole heirs of his estate.
Say what? Steven sent out a text
message to us and asked if any of us knew how to get a hold of our cousins.
I messeged the two who are on
facebook. I felt like a heel not knowing
their lives or what their position is toward our late uncle but informing them
that not only has he passed but that it has been requested that someone from family
assist in matters. I included the eldest
of my cousin’s wife in the conversation
as she is on facebook and though my cousin has an account is not on often it at
all. He is in his final stages with Huntington’s and will probably
be gone by next year. I have learned of three deaths have happened (or will
happen) within the matter of minutes.
There were tears in my eyes – for Uncle
Bruce was a loner and died alone. I have
no idea when or how Joe passed. I’m not even
close to these people though I do have memories. Only a few memories. It was a hodgepodge combination of emotions
brought to the surface. My vision made
the messages received blurry. I was
involved in a text conversation with my brothers relating messages I’d received
from messenger from my cousins –
trying to correct what I’d transcribed
before sending it. I was an emotional
wreck. I wish I knew better than I do.
My brother no longer posts to his blog but has left MANY detailed posts on his facebook page. Yesterday was a tribute to mom and some to himself for the grief of her loss. He said he’d almost forgotten that it was 13 years ago yesterday. His final note (after providing a detailed account of her final stages of life) was “hearts and wounds heal with time and that life continues moving forward”.
Am I a terrible person for forgetting
when she died? She passed the day after
Richard and I celebrated our 12th wedding anniversary. We were married two days prior to the bombing
of the twin towers in New York – a day when our nation seemed to pull together
to show their support. A time when Rudy Giuliani
cared about his city and seemed to be loved and respected.
Having mom pass was disheartening, but
I don’t think as disheartening as having her forget. Having her mind in a different world apart
from our own reality. I remember that
first week after we had checked her in. I remember watching a health-care
worker spoon feeding one of the residents – the way one would a toddler in a
high chair. I was saddened by the sight
thinking my mom would be in that position one day. But she wasn’t. She passed before going through all the
stages. I was glad of that. I was happy to not have to see her being
spoon fed. I wasn’t happy that she had
passed – but we had all lost her long before then. Dementia had robbed us all.
Three anniversaries in a row. A great one for me and Richard. A mixed-emotion one for my family. A devastating one for the nation – though we do have a few positive results – the overall reasoning is just so heartbreaking.
Richard and I will often watch BBC’s “The Repair Shop” (here) in which patrons bring their time worn heirlooms to be restored to another time. It’s great to see so many attached to sentiments in our throw-it-out/replace/upgrade it society. I don’t recall having any family heirlooms.
My mom had been raised in poorer circumstances with many relics that may not have been considered antiques at the time – certainly not of value either financially or sentimentally. We threw things away and replaced them – though I remember my brother and I both hoarding “stuff” as sentiments. Perhaps even now. But nothing worth restoring . . . I don’t think.
I do have a set of scriptures that belonged to my mother. The binding on the triple combination is torn in places and many of the pages have definitely seen better days. But it is a treasure because I see where she has marked certain scriptures and written in the margin. That for me is a treasure – something I would definitely have restored if I lived in England and could travel to the repair shop more easily than now.
The most interesting thing I think I have seen is a coconut scraper (which I had never even heard of before, but does make sense; just something the average person wouldn’t encounter or have need for) and the most touching has been with the restoration of a painting that survived war. You can read about (and see the workmanship involved) here for one. There are others if you would like to research it more.
Thank you to those who have the skills to make the restorations possible and for those who choose to have their legacy live on in these items. I love to hear their stories. And I love watching the shared talent of others.
It must have happened shortly after
she
was taken to the doctor for a
different
medication. I hadn’t seen
her
for a few weeks. I called and left
a
message. I had more than once.
People
were starting to worry. Her
family
hadn’t let us know that she
was
gone.
We
could have offered our assistance. Why
didn’t
they tell us she had been called home to
our
Heavenly Father? She passed two
months
ago and I am just learning about
it
today. Perhaps the family didn’t know
how
to get in touch with us just as we
don’t
know how to get in touch with them.
At
least I didn’t. I didn’t know her for
long.
What
an impact she has made.
Between
exit 112 and 110
I see a couple of deer quite
close to the
shoulder of I5 and I
think of the doe
who tried to
outrun us in this post and wonder –
do these deer not
see the cars as preditors?
For the most part I have seen fawns – perhaps
teenagers making a
dare – going for the most
luscious grass near
the shoulder
(which I don’t
believe has any vegetation worth the risk)
I always think of “Watership
Down”
only deer instead
of rabbits.
car is moving to
quickly to take an accurate
picture. I see them only on the return from
Roseburg – never toward
In April I was asked to outline the RS lessons to correspond
with Come Follow Me lessons.
I had only my notes and the titles of the 2020 “Don’t Miss This” Episodes.
It was right after general conference and so I didn’t have the titles of
the talks we had picked,
only the speakers.
Of course I prayed for inspiration on where to put the 11 or 12 conference talks that
we had picked for our lessons.
There were six that were definitely set in stone but wasn’t quite certain
how to place the other talks.
This week’s theme was spot on as the reading in Come Follow Me was on the Strippling Warriors (starting here) and the RS lesson was from this talk.
I have had ideas for posting
– but have not made the effort to
communicate what’s in my brain to
my fingers to type out what I thought.
It’s usually gone before the
computer has booted. I am so out of it during
the summer. Either fatigued
due to the heat or knocked into
a coma by the wind, fan and/or air conditioning.
Summer came early this year.
It was in May.
And now it’s August, but it
feels like fall.
I have been more alert this week.
Not so tired
and in a trance.
This morning I got up to turn on
the heater. What is up with that?
It has cooled off severely.
High today is supposed to reach 67.
How awesome is that?
I wish that were the high all year long.
