Too Much or Not Enough

I find it interesting that the topic of my last class focused on Medicare and social security.  The topic of my current class has been the brain, stress and this week’s topic on sleep disorders – which I have had my entire life.  Thus I’m making discoveries.  I am also getting the feeling that I need to put my affairs in order and start throwing away mountains of stuff so that Roland and Jenna won’t have to do it in the event I leave this earth.

          I’m not saying that death is around the corner.  It just feels like it in some ways.  Perhaps it’s just the side effects of still trying to heal from bronchitis and still coughing and not breathing right.  I was told at the doctor’s office that my breathing was off.  I don’t think it’s the bronchitis that’s to blame.  My breathing has always been off.  I think more off as I age.  My pipes are small and seem to shrink with each passing year.  No, I don’t have anything to back that up.  Just theory.

          I’ve been reading past memories of mom and dad and their good health somehow shattered.  Dad’s was physical and mom’s was mental.  I think I have a little bit of each going for me right now.  My sleep patterns are horrible.  But they have always been horrible.  Mom said after she gave birth to me, I was always asleep when I was in the hospital.  She said she never saw me awake until she got me home.  I was her first child.  She didn’t know what to expect but thought I ought to be sleeping more than I did.  She said it was as though I had slept in the hospital enough to get me through the next five years. 

          Patrick was the opposite.  He slept the normal hours a baby should.  Mom said he had weird breathing patterns though – or maybe it was just paranoia on her part.  After all, she had dealt with a non-sleeping child for two years before Patrick came along and slept beautifully, but she would have a hard time falling asleep because she wasn’t used to a sleeping baby and would place her hand on top of him to make sure he was still breathing.

         

          I don’t know when I started sleeping in an upright position.  I do sleep better than when I am trying to lay flat.  I still snore though, but perhaps not as loudly.  I don’t know if anyone else in my family snores.  It’s a wonder that any of my family were able to sleep with me in the house.  Though I’ve never heard myself, I understand that I am loud.

          For the most part, whenever I have drifted off in a recliner, I will wake up in the same position in which I fell asleep.  If I try sleeping in bed, I am all over the place along with the sheets and whatever other bedding started out near me.  I rarely ever have blankets on.  Sometimes I may use just one.  But I am usually too hot.

          My feet and ears get cold and I will wear slippers and sometimes a hat or headband.  I usually remove the headwear long before I wake up. 

          This week, as part of my assignment, I am supposed to turn in a sleep schedule which I have yet to create and stick with.  Especially since the bronchitis and antibiotics and cough and phlegm.  I get worn out so easily.  A trip to the mailbox does me in.  I have taken more naps in the last two weeks than I have ever taken in my entire life.  Perhaps it’s wrong to call them naps as I often sleep longer than I do through the night.

          I think the weather may upset my sleeping also.  And I don’t think it would matter where in the country or probably even the entire planet right now.  The weather has been experiencing some violent mood swings.  I like the weather right now.  I want to be a part of it.  I want it to stay where it is.  I don’t want it to warm up again.

Day Five

         Today I took my last of the antibiotic that had been issued Monday.  And I do feel better.  Possibly up to 80%, but I am weak still.  A jaunt out to the mailbox has worn me out.  I have not had much exercise.  Each time I move just an inch (NOT an exaggeration) I end up coughing uncontrollably.  Never in my life have I gone through so many tissues, rolls of toilet paper and bladder pads in such a short time.  I hope to never have to experience this again. 

           I am grateful that neither Roland nor Jenna has had to endure the same physical pain.  Roland has had a cough and phlegm, but nothing close to where I’ve been.  Jenna has managed to dodge this all together.  Hopefully, it will remain that way.  I think I was sick enough to account for all three of us.

I had been scheduled to work four days this week but ended up not working at all.  I’m grateful to see the shifts had been picked up by another.  

As I had mentioned on Tuesday, I have started a new class this week.  I have participated in the discussion about the brain, finished my assignment on the subject of stress in the workplace (adding a bit about healthcare) and finished my assessment.  As I went over my assignment, I had reminisced about other assignments I’ve turned in and how amateurish they seem for a college level. But then again, I have only six days or less to find references, come up with ideas, and piece it all together so that my words flow smoothly.  And let’s not forget the importance of APA as it often seems to be more important than the contents.

I’ve added my personality to many assignments and used a personal situation in my life to help explain.  Last month’s topic and thus far this month are dealing with health issues with both mom and dad.  The work environment is not even close to stressful when I think about other things that I have dealt with and still continue to deal with.  Perhaps I will share my assignment after it has been graded.

I really am feeling better.  The healing process has seemed to come slowly, but I am guessing that I’m almost there.  The weather has mirrored my own conditions in some ways.  Yesterday there was wind, rain, hail – our first time seeing hail in Oregon – perhaps a little bit of sun.  I don’t really have the sun part down as far as shining.  But I have been hot – even though it has only been 52 – 60 outside.  I am grateful that it hasn’t been warmer.   

I Was Hoping for Urgent Care – Not U-Wait While We Care for Everybody Behind You

WARNING:  Although I do not provide all the details, some of what I’ve written provides a gross picture

      What a glorious Mothers’ Day NOT – on top of the cough and leaky bladder I was having aches and pains all over my body.  I couldn’t get comfortable whereas I could sleep for very long.  I haven’t been restless before when I am sleeping in a reclining position.  At least not that I know of.  Sheets were pulled away from the mattress.  I’d have a pillow fort beneath my feet.  If I had been given the option to die, I would have taken it.

            I’d been scheduled to work both yesterday and today, but took myself out of the subbing position and left a message with the school.  Soon after I left my message, I received a call from another aid seeing if I can work her shift.  When I returned her call and she heard my voice introduce myself, she didn’t even need to explain.  It was obvious that I was not in a position to work for anyone – and yet I had had four opportunities and ended up saying “no” to all four.  I would have worked for free with the behavior challenged youth than to feel the way I was feeling.  I would have rather gone to the dentist or another tubular pregnancy.
           
            Yesterday I called a health center claiming to provide urgent care.  I don’t know what their definition of “urgent” is, but it is definitely NOT the same as mine.  They said they had a 9:40 cancellation.  Okay, that should get me home to attend the live lecture which starts at 11:00.  WRONG!  I would have been home at 10:20 if the appointment had meant anything.

            I counted eight people come in behind me.  Eight! They would come and go. One man came in and they greeted him with “Oh, you’re early.  Your appointment is not until 11:00.”  He was still seen before me!  Crimeny!

            It may not have been so bad nor may I have complained but I was feeling so awful.  There was a sign for coughers and sneezers to please wear a mask, which I did.  Only not fully at first.  I had come in early in order to fill out the paperwork – which actually had not taken that much time.  If I covered my nose, the air would fog up my glasses and I couldn’t see.  But when the paperwork was filled out and hande in, I covered my nose in addition to my mouth.  I had meant to bring in my puzzle book - I mean what person doesn’t have to wait at the doctor’s office?  At least six of the people behind me!  They even took the only other person wearing a mask before they took me.  What gives!  I just wanted a prescription for a Z pack. Why would they not want to take the masked patients first just to send them away all that much sooner?
 

            I went to the desk to ask if I had been forgotten about – I hadn’t.  Not everybody is seen by the same doctor and apparently, I was there for a specific person and not a “next-available” situation.  I visualized Tim Conway waiting on Harvey Korman in a skit that had done on the Carol Burnett show (here).  Meanwhile, I had a wall of mucus between my face and the stupid mask.  I needed to clean myself.  After the nurse had to my weight, height, pulse, etc. I asked if I could take off my mask and clean myself up.  

        She allowed me to do so, but immediately replaced my mucus-filled mask with a fresh one.  I liked the second one better.  I did not have to wait in the patient room near as long as I had in the foyer.  The doctor – who appeared as though he has already and did move a bit quicker than Tim Conway’s character – spent all of fifteen minutes with me – if that.  I have bronchitis, wasn’t breathing correctly (that’s a given.  I think my breathing gets harder as I age;  I think I have small pipes), high pulse rate (I honestly don’t know where that had come from unless it was rage from having had to wait) and a slight fever.

            He called in a prescription for a Z pack and small pills which resembles fish eggs and it’s supposed to suppress my cough – which I suppose it’s done somewhat.  At least the cough no longer seems to connect to my bladder.  Last night my fever broke and must still be breaking as it is less than 55 degrees outside and I feel like I’m in an over.  The clothes I had on this morning have been washed along with my bedding as everything was overly damp this morning.

            My last class started yesterday, but I have not participated in any of it until today.  The subject is the psychology of the brain – or at least our focus for this week’s discussion is on the brain.  Each part of the brain has a name and a function.  Trying to absorb it all is like learning a new language.  I don’t think it’s as complicated as accounting, but by the time I get it figured out, the course will be done. 

            So I am feeling a lot better today than the last three, but still not 100%.  I hope to by tomorrow.  I have two more sub days lined up for Thursday and Friday.  I hope that I will feel up to it.  Right now I do not.  But if I progress as quickly as yesterday versus today, I will be ready to return to work on Thursday.

Sing Me To Sleep

                         

                Before it started to rain in March,

I had a dry cough. 

A very annoying

dry cough

as though I had swallowed

a hair ball and couldn’t get it

out of my system.

 Then the rains came and

gradually my cough left me. 

I was able to go on stage to

perform with the choir on Easter.  

I had forgotten that the primary had

been invited to join us. 

The song was “Gethsemane” (see here).

Our primary kids sound like angels

whenever that song is performed.

My eyes leak whenever

they’re performing. 

I was too choked up to

sing with them. 

After Easter my dry cough returned. 

Gradually it became a wet cough. 

On Tuesday I was sore from head to toe. 

Pain in my cheeks 

pain in my teeth  

terrible pain. 

I shouldn’t have gone to work

 at the school on Wednesday. 

A lot of children commented that

I sounded funny. 

I was feeling better than on Tuesday. 

The coughing and congestion are

not the worst part. 

I know there are some woman who

will relate when I mention that

the cough and bladder somehow

seem to be connected. 

Shooting out the other end

and having to change myself    

It reminds me of the many times that

I have changed baby diapers amazed

at how much the pad will hold.  But still . . .

The last couple of days

I have gone through one and a half

boxes of tissue.

I have missed the Mother’s Day brunch

which I was supposed to conduct and

take part in the program. 

I called the organizer this

morning and said

I wouldn’t be there. 

My right cheekbone feels bruised.  

I feel worse than I look. 

I hope Roland doesn’t get it this bad. 

Thus far Jenna’s been able to dodge

getting this nastiness. 

I pray that she will remain free of this. 

I think this is the worst cold

that I have ever had

in my entire life.

Change & Responsibility

          For many of us change is a difficult thing.  We change instructors each time we advance a grade in school.  Our insurance doesn’t allow for a certain expense and we change doctors as a result.  Death always creates change.  We must deal with the void in our lives.  Some do this gracefully.  Others may complain.

          Often, we are asked to accept responsibilities that we certainly hadn’t stood in line for. Some of the responsibilities accepted force us to grow in ways that we may have not otherwise understood.  Take my brother, Corey, and cousin, Michelle for example.  Both had been placed in situations regarding finances attached to an estate.  Corey took over what Patrick had been assigned to do initially.  We had all voted on it.  Patrick seemed the logical choice.  He could have easily cheated each of us out of our inheritance but we all knew that he would not. 

          The day came long before my mom passed.  Corey and Patrick had worked together – each having the power of attorney.  I don’t know that Patrick even wanted to be in that situation – even long before he was asked.  A long time ago - when we had put it to a vote.  I don’t think he voted for himself.  Corey was a teenage kid with little to no tolerance for math.  Patrick had been experiencing health problems and didn’t need the burden. When Corey took over he was obviously more prepared than he was when we had taken the vote.

          When Aunt Gertrude was in rehab we all told her that she would need to update her will.  She would have to give power of attorney to someone eventually.  She picked her two surviving nephews and finally gave in to finding an attorney.  I had heard her oldest nephew didn’t want the responsibility and passed it on to his youngest daughter – though it sounds like Michelle has picked up most of the pieces.  Aunt Gertrude Uncle Ted outlived all three of their nephews and a niece.  Aunt Gertrude outlived Uncle Ted.  He was 100 when he died two years ago.  Aunt Gertrude passed just this year.  She was 97.

          I know that at least three of my cousins have a hard time dealing with change.  When their father passed, it was very hard for them.  She has had to deal with quite a bit of change: Aunt Trudy’s deteriorating mind and physical condition, Uncle Ted’s health, his death, Aunt Trudy’s death . . . I think the experience has made her a stronger person. 

          We all have trials that can make us strong if we allow.  Change doesn’t have to be a horrible thing.  It’s all a matter of perspective.

I NEED TO SLEEP!

          Before I had a chance to sit down after I arrived in the chapel yesterday, a sweet sister came up to me and put her arm around me and asked if there was/is something wrong.  She is one of the very few people who saw me the week prior.  She had seen me on the stand along with the primary.  Many others hadn't noticed me.  Those who sit directly in front of or to the left side of the pulpit may not have noticed the primary as a whole.  We are out of view even when we're standing unless it is at the pulpit.

          I have been rather melancholy this entire month.  I didn't know why but have since figured it out.  While I truly love this sister, we really don't have that intimate of a connection.  I've seen her outside of the church on occasion, but for the most part I know that our contact is only two or three times a month at best.  She said she was concerned that the "spark" had gone out of me and didn't wish to see it lost. 

          Jenna has also asked me off and on what was wrong.  I find it interesting that the only two who have said anything are one who is closest to me and one who has been watching from a distance.  From that far back, how can you even see the facial expression of one on the stage seated behind her class in order to prompt them?

          I told her I hadn't felt well that week - which was the truth.  I had left right after the primary program.  I was a bit frustrated because for once in my life I not only liked all of the songs but actually knew the words to most of the songs and was unable to participate due to a dry throat.  And then as mentioned in this post cried during the last three.  

          I have been doing a lot of crying - over stupid things really.  I've never been a speed demon with processing information, but have seemed to have gotten slower at it.  Like when the RS brought me the poinsettia - I should just have told them that I'm allergic.  They would understand, but I kept it hidden.  That is a small example, but my reflexes have seemed to slow down even more.  I forget words and thoughts whenever I am interrupted and get irate with whoever interrupted.  There's situations that will remind me of my mom.  I've thought a lot about her and so I've been crying about that.

         

          When fictional characters have made bad choices I've cried and have scolded myself because it isn't even real and crying about fairytale characters is stupid.  I guess it's because sometimes I relate them to real life people who are facing their own battles and struggles or are victims of senseless crimes and cannot seem to help whatever situation they are in. 

          I feel like I'm aging and not only is my mind disconnected in thoughts, my body parts are screaming at me as well.  I think my right leg is shrinking.  I have already started stuffing my right shoe with insoles, but now it feels like I need more lift.  I can't afford to buy two pairs of shoes in two different sizes so I can stuff one and not have the other slip off my foot.

          I still have a poor attitude toward primary overall.  Next year we'll have three kids in the valiant class.  No sunbeam class.  They want to keep all four instructors.  It may not be so bad as the program will be a new one for everybody.  I haven't been graceful about accepting many changes.

          As I continued to add puzzle pieces to my list of things that may have contributed  to my gloomy state of mind, I realize that all of them (or at least most of them) are connected by a lack of sleep.  I am so damn tired and find it hard to sleep.  I can't figure out why.  I have seen enough accounting videos to knock me in a coma for a lifetime.  And yet, I don't think I have been able to sleep through the night all month long.

          Roland likes the room to be 90 degrees (okay, that may be a bit of an exaggeration.  But he does like it hotter than comfortably warm) I have to have the temperature below 70 if I want to be comfortable.  I can't sleep in the bed because the ability to raise it to a propped up position is gone.  The foot/leg part of the recliner is shorter than I am and so my feet hang over.  I just can't seem to sleep - even with the accounting videos.  Like I want to be focusing on that.  It's Christmas.  I want to be uplifted.  Accounting does NOT uplift.

          Oh, and on top of my instructor reading the PowerPoint word for word here  his comments are the same for everything turned in.  "You met the assignment/discussion requirement." No other feedback whatsoever.  At least it was graded before the middle of the following week so that was nice.  I just tried taking a nap which did not work out to my expectations.  I will try again.

The Dryness is Going to Kill Me

          October is normally my favorite month, all the fall leaves and crisp air.  Facebook memories indicate that there has often been a sickness within the family.  It doesn't last as long as what I've seemed to experience this year.  It was bad enough before we set our clocks to standard.  Setting the clocks back seemed to say to the sun, "you have permission to take a long nap.  Perhaps you can make an appearance every now and then - just so we know you're up there."

          The air has been so dry.  It's horrible.  I came to Oregon for moisture.  The fog hasn't seemed to carry much moisture to it this year nor has it rained often.  We're not currently hooked up to natural gas, and thus the only source of heating we have had has been electrical and feels drier than the gas somehow.  At least my lungs and throat believe they are.  I haven't had a sinus infection, but am getting tired of a dry throat each morning and the few hours it takes me to unclog all of my breathing passages.  I do well in the daylight, but when the sun starts to set - shortly after 3:00 pm - which is so wrong! - It gets cold and frosty and my body temperature has a hard time adjusting to the air around me.

          I've been filling in for instructor aides at various schools.  The instructor I have been with this week keeps her room so hot, it is unbearable - like certain buses that I would ride in Salt Lake.  The air is nearly the same as what I left behind.  I want to breathe again.  I would like to have moist clean air again.  (And I'm still ticked off about adjusting clocks every six months - that doesn't help anyone as far as health and productivity go)

Mountain Dew Just Makes Me Feel Better

          Mountain Dew doesn't work on stomachaches as well as 7-Up or Sprite but I can rely on Mountain Dew to assist with relieving headaches and sore throats.  I do use it more as a medicine than for an enjoyable beverage - though I do enjoy the taste of Mountain Dew.  I wish they made Mountain Dew flavored throat drops.

          There are a few times when Mountain Dew hasn't worked for me.  There are a few times when I thought, "Oh, I shouldn't have had that."  But not usually.  For the most part Mountain Dew has been my friend.  It's not just my tongue that appreciates it's wonderfulness.  I really love water.  Clean water.  Drinkable water.  But if I had to choose a favorite beverage other than water, it would be Mountain Dew.  Weird, huh?

         Mountain Dew does not quench my thirst.  Water doesn't chase away a headache or sore throat.  Occasionally water can help with a stomachache. 

I Should Have Recognized the Signs

            For a couple of weeks my right eye has been tearing up.  It's quite annoying as it will create a fogged up view through my glasses.  I have also felt somewhat dizzy and lightheaded at times.

            The air has been so dry which I'm sure has been a contributing factor to my health today.  I had thought it was all allergy related when both eyes went balistic last Tuesday but I may have a cold underneath - or worse - the dreaded sinus infection may have weaseled its way into my life again because the air in Oregon isn't providing the moisture which brought me out here.  We may need to move closer to the ocean.

            The fire levels are back to low and moderate - at least here, but there is still a hazy sky to the west of I5 between Grants Pass and Glendale.  Where is my rain?

            Before we had moved to Oregon, we had visited in April.  We had gone to Newport on Easter Sunday.  It had rained that day.  Hard.  It was cold and wet.  I was under the impression that is what Oregon would be.  I left behind my white coat with the bears and trees thinking it would not hold up in the moisture.  I also left behind some cute red boots for the same reason. 

            Turns out I could have brought them both and used them and they would have been fine.  Too late now.  Perhaps somebody else was able to use them.  I don't believe Rochelle did though.   

            I felt fine last week.  I felt fine on Saturday.  Yesterday my throat started hurting.  I went to church but did not sing.  My throat got worse.  I tried to doctor the hurt away.  I may have made things worse for myself.

            I won't be working this week.  I feel fine as long as I'm sitting down or reclining.  But I cannot stand.  And I don't wish to share my germs with others in the event that I am contagious.  I will have to look for a new doctor however as I am quite disappointed with the medical center in Myrtle Creek.  Perhaps I could go to the one in Tri City if they're still accepting patients.  It would be even nicer if it just went away on its own.  However, I am getting to the age where it would be wise to have a routine doctor.  I don't think I've ever had a regular doctor except for my pediatrician and then my OB/GYN when I was pregnant with Jenna.

          Drinking lots of liquid.  Mostly grape juice thus far.  I need to get better. I think a Z-pack would make me feel better. 

Falling Apart . . . Too Sore To Be Dead

I'm sore

I don't know why

I'm feeling muscles that

I didn't know I had

They're crying, "You

never pay attention to us.

We want to be known!"

And I say, "Not if you're

going to treat me with such

disrespect that I can't get

comfortable.  I don't remember

ever feeling so sore.  Why are

you so against me?"

I don't even know where the

sores came from.  I felt

fine when I left the

pool yesterday.  The pain didn't

start until I stood in line to

get my lunch.  Maybe I just

slept on it wrong.  Maybe

my body just wanted to stay

in the water and was

slow about realizing that

it had been out for some time.

I'm not a graceful ager.  I

hate it.

Medication: Often Trading One Problem for Another

               It's been a year since Jeanie passed - not that I dwell on dates when people died.  Her mom does.  She's always posting the birthdays and death dates of those who have passed on.  Some days are better for her than others.  I think some days may be worse for her than they were for Jeanie.  I can't say for certain since most of the correspondence I've had with them has been through facebook.  I didn't even have that with Jeanie those times that she not only unfriended me but blocked me as well.  Apparently, it was the medication disrupting her otherwise rational mind.  It not only shattered her own emotions, but I had allowed myself to become upset as well.  I may never know the entire scheme of things; I did learn so much more about her at her funeral than I had ever known about her before.

          Biff had tried to explain it to Roland who either misunderstood Biff or perhaps Biff hadn't explained it well enough or really hadn't understood it himself.  By the time it got to me,  there were things lost in translation or miscommunications and until the day of her funeral, I did not know, wasn't aware, hadn't understood that Jeanie had been molested as a child. 

          One of her brothers had announced it over the pulpit.  It was shocking and seemed out of place for a speaker to make that the topic of discourse at a funeral - and yet I understood his emotions and the pain of the entire family.  Jeanie had been traumatized.  It left some thick emotional scars that still have not healed.  It was both disturbing and extraordinary at the same time - not the topic itself but for the love and concern that the speaker not only had for his sister but several generations of children and adults who have also been traumatized by one they should have been able to trust.  A person who should have been there to protect her and care for her.  It was sickening and so much of what he said had a profound ring.  I wondered if their other sister had been molested as well.

          Jenna had chosen to assist in the nursery, which I was truly grateful for as the subject was uncomfortable to me - I knew it would be for her as well.  And yet his talk was truly from the heart.  It was still disconcerting to learn what had happened and his plea to talk about it.  

          I knew Jeanie had been seeing a psychiatrist.  I knew it was for some kind of abuse - though I had thought it had been inflicted on by her ex-husband.  He was never even mentioned. I didn't realize it had stemmed all the way back to when she was five.  A time of innocence that she had attempted to live out again.  How difficult it must have been for the family when she would ask why her parents looked so old.  And where were her siblings?  And who was the stranger named Biff?  And where did the baby come from?  Of course, if she thought she was only five, she wasn't going to believe that Biff was her husband or that she had given birth to the baby girl.  Two of her sibs had already passed on before her and the other two were living in other states.

          We had a few family get-togethers when we would see Jeanie. Twice I remember her feeling flushed and excusing herself.  Two other times I remembered when she genuinely seemed happy. That is who she really was.  Happy.  Full of life.  Unfortunately, we didn't get to know that person.   She would cancel appointments with us.  Sometimes Biff would show up by himself.  He wasn't allowed to take Ally her first year.  Jeanie was quite possessive of Ally.  She would get verbally abusive towards Biff and her mom.  That was the person I saw.  The one that was sick.  The one that had become violent through medication.  I think when she realized who she had become, it wasn't worth taking the medication.  And so she chose to suffer as silently as she could and tried hard not to upset the rest of the family.

          I was included in that "rest of the family" and did not understand what demons she'd been dealing with. I was aware that there had been demon's in Biff's life but did not know to what extent.  I admire Biff so much for putting up with it.  He knew that the outbreaks were not her fault.  He stayed with her and blamed himself for not being there to catch her when she fell.  It wasn't his fault.  It wasn't medicine's fault.  We don't know if it was her death that caused the fall or if she died when she landed or on the way down.  The autopsy revealed that there were seven clots in her lung. 

          Some days her mom is accepting and knows that Jeanie is better off in another world where she doesn't have to take medicine to overcome emotional or physical pain.  She is free.  And she is with a brother and their sister.  But there is still a hole.  A void.  A longing.  An emptiness.

          Biff moved on with his life.  He moved in with Claire and they are raising Ally together, although Jeanie's mom would still like to be involved.  She remains in touch with Roland's sister who is a retired nurse and has been in contact and has had a better handle of the situation than either Roland or I.  Jeanie may not have unfriended or blocked Roland's sister.  They stayed in touch. 

          Our youngest son recently texted a family photo or all three boys and their families.  They are with Roland's sister and her husband and two youngest children.  Even after Biff's outbursts with behavior at times and seemingly lack of gratitude,  I was taken aback to hear that it was Jeanie's parents that were providing room and board for Roland's sister and family as my own boys were unable to make room for them.  (Randy lives in the largest space of the three - our old house in WV - which is teeny) I'm happy to hear that they are well liked and that bridges may be mended.  

        For family home evening the other night, we wrote letters to each of the boys.  I finished my thoughts yesterday and mailed the letters along with Jenna's most recent photo from school.  I am so happy to see all of my boys together again.  Jenna's been a little sad that she is not sharing their lives in person.  I guess we all are.  If only we could get all of them to come to Oregon.