The Joy of Learning

          I attended a PTO meeting yesterday.  When it was over, the only father who was present was commenting on his son’s vocabulary.  The son had asked him to answer the question about the velocity of something.

          “He actually used the word ‘velocity’ and he’s only in first grade.  What first grader goes around using the word ‘velocity’?”

          I laughed.  My Jenna’s always had quite the large vocabulary.  Even at three there didn’t seem to be any word too sophisticated for her vocabulary.  She thrived on learning not just words and meanings but usually welcomed whatever else came her way.

          Not only did she know how to pronounce the words, but took on meanings as well.  I am reminded of a particular time when she told me that she was going to demonstrate (that’s right – demonstrate) how the armadillo protects himself.

          She puts a silver ball on the floor and says, “Now pretend this is an armadillo” and then backs up a bit and raises her arms in the air and makes an angry face. 

“Now pretend that I am a predator,” she says with her still angry face and creeps toward the ball getting ready to make her pounce.

“Now when the armadillo sees his predator, he will turn himself into a ball,” she then kicks the ball, “and it rolls away.  That is how an armadillo protects itself.” She says matter-of-factly.

          “Oh,” I say with admiration not only of her knowledge, but her ability to turn herself into what I thought looked like a dinosaur.

          Jenna is a sponge.  She soaks up information and enthusiastically shares her knowledge – though I didn’t have to pump her so much for information just a few years back.  She doesn’t go into detail like she did just a few years back.

          Even before she talked, she processed information.  We could never read a book from cover to cover without her stopping every few pages to match the animal in the picture with one of her own stuffed animals, or demonstrate her counting skills, or point to other objects of the same shape and/or color.  She really is a fascinating piece of work.

          Corey was that way, too.  Still is.  Absorbing and processing information and keeping it on file to pull out of his head – usually on demand. He’s always had a rather large vocabulary, too.  Great knowledge and understanding.  And he can speak to almost anybody on his or her own level and use the vocabulary that will most be understood. He could help our baby sister Kayla with any of her school work – except for penmanship.  Mom had specifically requested that Corey not teach Kayla how to write.

          I love the enthusiasm.  I am grateful for those who are excited to learn and to share and assist those of us who aren’t quite as knowledgeable and have smaller vocabularies.

Full Circle

          Moms have many roles – at least mine did.  Teacher, Nurse, Maid, Chauffer, Seamstress, Nurturer . . .

          My mom was raised in San Francisco.  She didn’t learn gardening, but I imagined she learned to cook and launder and “mother” at quite an early age.

          She has two brothers that are younger than she.  When her mom and dad divorced and her mom was forced to return to work, mom and her brother became latch key kids.

          I know my mom assisted her mom in looking after her brothers.  I believe she fixed meals.  I’m sure that she did some light housework.  And she used to iron for other people.  She found it to be fun and enjoyed the small amount of income.

          I don’t know for certain which skills she learned from her mom or if she had picked any of those up at the Sunrise ward she attended in San Francisco.  I know moving from San Francisco to the “outskirts” of Salt Lake City (her words, not mine) was a definite culture shock.

          She had worked for the FBI in San Francisco as a file clerk – and would make it her personal goal to have her desk cleared by the end of the day – knowing it would not last – for the crime rate was high and there was always cases to be pulled and filed away.

          Mom worked for the FBI in Salt Lake City.  So different from San Francisco.  She enjoyed being able to do several jobs and learn more tasks and utilize herself on more than just filing.

          She learned many domestic skills through the Relief Society  -  many of which were probably brand new to her.  She learned to knit, crochet, can and sew among others.  And she took these tasks to heart and really tried to perfect those things which she had learned.

          Mom gave birth to four of us.  She would teach us to learn and help us by introducing us to educational toys and assisting with helping our desires for wanting to learn.

          It seems that we were in the car often as she drove us to swim lessons, my dance and piano lessons, the dentist and the doctor.  It seems she was always driving someone to the doctor.  If it wasn’t one of her children, it was my paternal grandmother. 

          Often we’d rebel if we didn’t feel sick, we didn’t feel the need.  I took her on a follow-up visit with the doctor last week.  She sulked like a child. She didn’t quite throw a tantrum – though the feistiness was there.  She said she wasn’t sick and didn’t see the need.

          Mom had taken several of us to the hospital for one reason or another.  Patrick had a very high fever when he was four.  My dad had had a series of strokes.  She took Ellen to the hospital to see her baby sister born.  And mom drove me to the hospital when I had Jenna.  She also picked me up as I waited on the curb in a wheelchair – nearly nine years before I drove up to the curb to meet her in the wheelchair as mentioned here. 

          Corey made a comment on this post how my mom had cleaned up some of Ellen’s vomit.  Several years later full circle came into effect when Ellen and her husband found mom passed out in her own vomit – and Ellen’s husband cleaned it up.

          She’d driven daddy to the nursing home (found here) because we needed assistance and that is what the insurance would cover.  And Kayla drove her to an assisted living facility which is really a lot brighter and way more cheerful than where dad had to live – though he was not for long. 

         My dad hated where he was at. We did too.  We didn’t like the place at all.  Mom really had a hard time with it; it wasn’t something she wished to do. But it was necessary.   None of us wished to put mom in assisted living – to put her in a place where the doors would remain locked and she will never know the code – but it is necessary.

Some days mom is happy.  Sometimes she wanders around in hopes of escaping.  She clutches her purse full of “treasures” that will make some family members laugh.  And she remembers the laughter.  At least she did yesterday morning.  I would like to see her happy all the time.

            

Scrapbook Art: HECTOR THE COLLECTOR by Shel Silverstein

Hector the Collector

Collected bits of string,

Collected dolls with broken heads

And rusty bells that would not ring.

Pieces out of picture puzzles,

Bent-up nails and ice-cream sticks,

Twists of wires, worn-out tires,

Paper bags and broken bricks.

Old chipped vases, half shoelaces,

Gatlin’ guns that wouldn’t shoot,

Leaky boats that wouldn’t float

And stopped-up horns that wouldn’t toot.

Butter knives that had no handles,

Copper keys that fit no locks,

Rings that were too small for fingers,

Dried-up leaves and patched-up socks.

Worn-out belts that had no buckles,

‘Lectric trains that had no tracks,

Airplane models, broken bottles,

Three-legged chairs and cups with cracks.

Hector the Collector

Loved these things with all his soul‹

Loved them more than shining diamonds,

Loved them more than glistenin’ gold.

Hector called to all the people,

“Come and share my treasure trunk!”

And all the silly sightless people

Came and looked…and called it junk.

                                                                                                  Shel Silverstein

I used to collect all of these things for my scrapbook.
Used to collect.  Thought it was necessary.
How happy I am to say I really don't need it -
not that I ever did
                                                                           kfralc

I Don’t Foresee Mom as Resident of the Month

          Alice Walker is a sweet lady who likes to sort things.  She sorts buttons and shamrocks and hats and hearts and whatever other craft is offered.  She’ll talk to anyone who will ask her questions.  I don’t know how long she’s been in the assisted living program – or if she was once as resistant as my own mother.  But she seems like a very go-with-the flow person right now.  She was spotlighted last month at the assisted living center where my mom has lived for almost two months. 

          Mom’s personality is very different from Alice’s.  At least right now it is.  Mom seems very anti-social – though I know she’s made friends there – or at least one friend.  Someone she says is her friend. 

          On Wednesday she introduced me to her friend Marilyn – although when I referred to her as Marilyn today, mom said that didn’t sound right.  I don’t know.  

           In her mind mom has two LaTieshas – or at least she did today.  The other one lives quite near to the facility and she could walk to LaTiesha’s house and hopefully LaTiesha will allow her to stay.  She’s not quite certain that she would want to live with me because I live so far away – I might as well live in another state.

          I went out today with the intention of unpacking her belongings (she has filled her laundry basket and at least two tote bags full of clothes and pictures that she would like to take with her) while she was out with the group on their scenic tour and was waiting in the parking lot until the bus pulled out – only the van wasn’t there.  When I saw the activities director, I asked her about it. I was told that the bus driver’s mother recently passed away and I understood that the funeral would be today.

          So I went inside to visit.  I noticed mom walking passed the glass doors – trying to escape, no doubt.  Only she didn’t have her coat on.  She didn’t have any of her bags, just her purse. She didn’t ask me if I had come for her.  She just told me her plans.  Told me that she was going to walk to LaTiesha’s.

          “I am LaTiesha,” I said.

          “No, my other LaTiesha.”

          Oh, two identical houses.  Two identical daughters. Or perhaps we’re not identical at all.  Apparently the other one is a lot nicer.  Apparently the other one isn’t a bully who doesn’t care that mom isn’t happy.  Apparently the other LaTiesha is the only one of mom’s children who isn’t against her.

          We talked about Shirley Temple – just so I could get her in a more pleasant mood.  I think she said they were friends - or had been at one time. The activities director knocked on the door and asked us to join them.  I tried three times to get mom to leave and go out to socialize.  I finally excused myself to say I would go participate.  And then I had a coughing spell.  I ended up leaving.  I hadn’t even said good-bye.  The other LaTiesha wouldn’t have said good-bye either.  She would have extended her hand toward mom and said, “Let’s walk to my house now.”

          I miss my mom.  I hope the person that she’s become will find comfort where she’s at and will be happy and sociable again.  I hope she can find a “happy-go-lucky” kind of a personality like Alice has.  I hope she won’t be as upset with the other LaTiesha as she has been with me.  Though I don’t guess it would really matter as the other LaTiesha exists only in her mind.

Oh, My! What a Day!

After a month of being cooped up due to illness, I finally went out to see my mom.  I still have a cough and probably should not be around the elderly.  This morning she had a doctor’s appointment.

Kayla was supposed to take mom to the doctor's - and had actually been planning on it for two months now.  I said I would go out to Kearns to be with her two kids while she took mom. But because of unwelcome circumstances on Kayla's end (her car and the plumbing), I ended up taking mom. 

When I arrived at the facility, I found her in a rather foul mood.  She was waiting for someone to take her home.  Had her bags packed and ready to go.  I said that we wouldn’t be leaving for another 45 minutes at least.  She asked why we couldn’t just go NOW.

I told her that we would have to spend even longer waiting in the doctor’s office.  That did not go over very well.  She was expecting to go home.  She assured me that she did not need to go to the doctor and that we should just leave and I should take her home.

I told her that I was not in a great mood myself and that we should say a prayer before we left. I told her that we would have to come back for her stuff as I'd just be taking her to the doctor's and didn't have room in my car for all of her things.  Of course I did, but by the time we got all the way from the building to the one row of cars parking lot, she forgot to take notice or at least mention it.

Of course the entire trip was a repeated conversation about "Where are we going?"  "Why can't you just take me home?"  "I feel fine.  I don't NEED to go to the doctors” Of course once we arrived, we had to wait – which made her all the antsier.  She was irate with me and I just wasn’t in the mood for her childish behavior though I did try to stay calm and remind her that she had taken us to the doctor many times when “we weren’t sick” – actually she had taken my Grandma Helen now that I think about it.  If I was to remind her, I wonder if she would even remember.  Probably not.

Mom was actually very pleasant with the staff and willingly obeyed what they asked of her: remove her coat, step on the scale, lift her arm up, etc.

I had called Corey - not to ask him to hold her hand - but to get some information about seeing the eye doctor and other treatments.  Mom was holding a clip board and trying to process the information.  I said I could help her if she'd like.  She yanked the clip board away from me and told me she could do it.  

When she was talking to Corey (she had decided that maybe she did need my assistance with the form after all and so I had traded the cell phone for the clip board) her coat had dropped to the floor.  She told him that I had thrown it there.

While Corey kept her occupied, I wrote a note to the doctor saying that even if she was experiencing physical problems it wasn't greatly known as her dementia seems to take all of that away. It doesn’t seem she can remember things for more than two seconds anymore.

The doctor asked her the questions and kept his eyes on her, the patient – and then mom would look at me to answer for her and then get upset when I continued.  And she was actually just as irate with the doctor who was being just as intrusive as we (her children) were.  But especially me.  Mom’s has had it in for me for over a year now.

We went to the lab so the doctor could check her blood and urine.  We finished up before lunch and so I took her back to the community and she asked where we were going.

"To get you something to eat” I kept on saying.

When I turned into the Alpine Ridge parking lot she read the sign.  "Alpine Ridge.  Assisted Living.  What are we doing here?"

"This is where you're going to eat."  I said - waiting for her to get upset with me.

"Oh.  It just doesn't look like a restaurant."

She made a comment about the flowers and the wind and how the flowers looked like they would blow away.

I opened the front door of the building.  She still didn't say anything.  She stopped at the second door and happily read a sign about an upcoming Easter egg hunt.  Oh, yes.  Kayla had told me about that.  It was an RSVP and I hadn’t RSVP’d. 

I opened the second door.  Some of the residents had been seated already but they hadn't started eating.

"Oh, look.  That's Marilyn," she said as she went toward one of the residence.  "Can we sit next to Marilyn?  She's my friend."  

I was so happy to hear mom say that – although Marilyn looked oblivious to our existence or the surroundings.  I didn't think that was mom’s assigned table, but I allowed her to sit in the empty seat next to Marilyn. Mom patted the chair next to her and asked me to sit.  

"I have to go back to the front desk."  I actually wouldn't mind eating with her, but the dining area doesn't seem too roomy when all the residence are sitting down to eat.

I really did need to go to the front desk to put in my RSVP. Then I slipped out - grateful that the return was not at all painful and that she was actually happy and forgot about being at the doctor or trying to escape.

It's too bad I didn't think about returning to her room before I made my escape.  I could have returned everything to the closet or to the walls.  Perhaps next time I can just sneak in during lunch – I’ll have to wear a disguise or something – or bring someone with me who can keep her occupied while I hang up her clothes and return pictures to the wall.  Or maybe I could entertain while Sunny or Kayla “unpack” – and then when we take her back to her room she won’t figure it out right away.  When the packed items are left by her bed, it’s only a reminder for her that she would like out.

Life makes a full circle.

Happy Birthday on the 3rd

          There are four family members who have birthdays on the third.  My granddaughter turned one year yesterday.  And Jenna is madly planning her Dr. Seuss themed birthday party which we’ll have next month.

          Interesting that both girls come from fathers who also celebrate their birthdays on the third – although not until October and November.  There’s a few of us that find it interesting.

          For the most part, we’ve always held Jenna’s birthday party on the 3^rd.  It has worked out that the kids have always been out of school on that day.  Actually she did have preschool on her fourth birthday, and there was a primary activity that same day.  We had our own celebration with just Jenna, Roland and me later on that night.  Tony was in Brazil.  I don’t recall where the other two boys were.

          One time the young men and young women had an Easter celebration for the primary.  Jenna had turned hadn’t started preschool yet.  She has also gone Easter egg hunting on her birthday.

          Jenna was actually supposed to be born on an Easter Sunday – according to my Ob Gyn anyway.   But had decided to come eight days earlier than scheduled. If she had waited another day, she would have been born 04-04-04.

          It’s spring break and I know that some of her friends will be out of town.  I have to get a count of who might be available.  We may have to do it the following weekend.  Or maybe not.  Janice (whom Jenna claims as her best friend) has a birthday six days after Jenna.  I have learned through the years that if the weather is nice on Jenna’s birthday, it has always been dark and wet on the day that Janice’s parents have her party.  But when the weather has been cold and windy on Jenna’s day than Janice will get nice weather.  

          Jenna has already made streamers for decorations.  She has added red lines to old adding machine tape for a “cat in the hat” effect and has picked out the treats and games to play (one being “Seussical” chairs );  I will also place characters on the back of each child as they come to the party and they will have to ask one another questions to figure it out.

          We will also be wearing name tags as not all the children will know one another.  It is rare when all guests end up knowing one another. I think there are four or five schools that are attended by our rather small primary.  Nobody from the ward will know her school friends and vice-versa.  And then there are five from our last area that treat Jenna like gold.  Each of them had gone to Jenna’s fifth birthday party and had not known one another then but they do now.

          Funny, when I was pregnant with Jenna there were several people who offered to throw me a baby shower.  I was asked by my visiting teachers what I would like the theme to be.  I also chose a Dr. Seuss theme.  It’s fun to see Jenna be so excited and put so much thought into her birthday.  I expect Roland to help me this year.

The (not so) Great Salt Lake and Antelope Island

Recently Roland and I watched a video called “Redemption” As I watched I wondered just how much was accurate and what other history I might find on the web regarding John Baptiste,  Antelope Island, and the Great Salt Lake  (which may have been great at one time but really isn’t all that great now - at least in my opinion)

          I find it interesting that early settlers were interested in making a community on Antelope Island and grazing cattle as stated in this post but it isn’t mentioned that it was used to prison John Baptiste – but then it isn’t explained what the island was used for during the 1862 which is when the grave robber had been banned to Antelope Island.

          I’d heard of Antelope Island, but had never been to it until after I was married.  I don’t think it lived up to the hype found here.  It probably did at one time.  But not in this decade. It was okay. But I don't think it lived up to the description.

          Roland and I took the boys there before we were married.  We went to a barren area and enjoyed a picnic.  We were inland as we had no view of the water except for coming and going.  And actually did see a beach on the way out.  So the second time we went to the island, I had invited Sunny and her children to go with us. 

           The kids enjoyed playing in the sand.  They buried each other and made sand sculptures. I think only three or four of them ended up in the water.  Biff and Randy teased Tony and said he looked like a poster child for "Feed the Hungry" 

          There was quite a bit of space between the beach and the water.  We took Roland’s sister and her husband out there the year Jenna was born.  There was even a greater distance between the beach and the lake.

          Ooki arrived in the states two or three weeks before school started.  We decided to show him the sights.  We never took him to Antelope Island but did end up at Bonneville Salt Flats and Saltair.

          Saltair was once a prestige place to go.  There used to be boat rides from what I understand.  Now it’s a ghost town.  I don’t recall seeing this set up

But this building was still there with the still boat in front – set up as a gift shop as I recall. 

The building had kind of a haunted theme to it and had been vandalized over the years.

We walked out to the lake and Biff carried Houdini (which was funny) as Houdini was not willing to cross the water on his own. Ooki took lots of pics and posted them to his website (which may have just been for his senior year; I don’t have access to it anymore - I'm thinking he took it down)

I think we spent more time at the salt flats.  Three of the boys walked out quite far

The only time I ever saw Ooki wear sunglasses was when we were at the salt flats.

The lake continues to shrink – or so it appears to my eyes – though it looks more impressive from the road than the beach of Antelope Island.

When Jenna was younger, she really wanted to go to the beach.  Wasn’t in our budget to drive to California and so we started out for Antelope Island and invited Kayla to go along. 

I forgot about the smell and the flies which seemed much more poignant upon our return.  There wasn’t much in the way of people.  I don’t know that we even saw any other cars.  It was desolate.

Jenna did enjoy the beach. 

The water had evaporated even more and it was a very long walk (I bet it was at least one mile from the beach to the water) This is one of my favorite pictures of Jenna and my sister entering the water

Jenna was so excited to test her inflatable tube in the water.  I'd forgotten that she had a cut on her upper thigh.  She screamed in pain when she squatted down in the water.  The salt cut into her wound like a thousand daggers.

Getting out there and returning took much longer than the time we spent there. Both the lake and the island itself. I remembered that we were charged to cross the road to get out there.  When we left, I remember thinking they should have paid us to come.  What a disappointment. 

I took more pictures on our way out so that the time we spent there was not a complete waste. I haven’t returned nor do I plan on returning.

 The picture of the bus – a thing of the past.  I don’t think they do bus tours anymore. Or at least it wasn't offered that particular decade.

After watching “Redemption” and reminiscing what once was, I wonder how anybody who has been in the Great Salt Lake can think Baptiste drown in it.  Okay, maybe he didn’t know how to swim, but come on.  That water is so full of salt that one can’t help but float in it.

They say that Baptiste was relocated from Antelope to Fremont – which I had never even heard of.  It is explained somewhat in this post.  And I just found me a new site to follow.