Thursday, November 1, 2012
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Losing Home, Discarding Memories & Wearing Out My Scanner
It will be a while before my next post –
as I have TONS of photos and scrapbooking to go through. I just simply don’t have the room for storing
them – at least not the hard bound books (and there are many) but do have room
on some drives to insert in the computer.
Blessed are they who can discard without
sentimental attachment – for they don’t have to dejunk later on. Their lives are made easier because they don’t
save every little item. They don’t have
decades of clutter.
As
Corey had mentioned in a previous post Ellen and Nate have decided to throw out a
bunch of mom’s junk. And granted, it
does look nicer than I think it has ever looked – and seems inviting. But at the exact same time, it’s not
I haven’t lived in mom’s house for
over 11 years but had always felt at
home there. I paid for the microwave that
is in the kitchen. I paid for the
over-the-toilet cabinet downstairs. Most
of the pots and pans (that mostlikey don’t even get used anymore) are
mine. But we just don’t have room for
them in our tiny house or ever tinier kitchen.
The house itself seemed to welcome me – but not anymore. It hasn’t seemed to for the last year or
so.
Mom’s not the same. And the house certainly isn’t. I can’t just walk freely about the house as I
had at one time. The basement is now off
limits – at least in my mind. I feel
like an unwanted guest so much of the time.
I don’t think Nate thinks very highly of me – not that his opinion of me
matters. But it’s hard enough visiting
my mom as it is – and then to have the sane one act as though you don’t
belong. That he may be better than you. Here’s
a salt shaker – why not just pour the salt into my wounds.
And perhaps I’m just reading him
wrong. I like things orderly and tidy too – though it doesn’t appear that
way. I’ve married into a family of slobs
– except for Randy – who shows no sentimental attachment either and has no
problem discarding ANYTHING. And then
there’s Tony and Jenna who are worse than I am about saving and hoarding. And too often the sentiment is lost.
I’m actually finding that right now
with the things I have saved throughout the years. I have embarrassed myself. Why did I save this? Why on earth did I save that? What does this even mean?
Last night I pulled pages out from two
photo albums (the ones produced in the 70’s and 80’s; the ones with the
magnetic pages that have tons of acid which eat away at the photos) and scanned
a few memories; pulled out the postcards
for Jenna to send to her friends, and
ended up throwing away three scrapbooks this morning. There’s really no purpose for me to hang onto
it – especially because of the lack of space.
When we lost our first house, mom said I
could store my memorabilia at her house.
She’s got tons of room. She’d be
in that house forever. It would always
be a part of us. There was no reality
for me three years ago when we moved.
Her memory was starting to go – but NOTHING like it is now. The reality is that we may be selling mom’s
house long before Roland and I can ever move from the one we are currently
in. Probably we’ll die here – and then
our children will have to go through.
And Randy will be the only one who can throw it all away. So I’m trying to help ease that burden
now. I am trying to consolidate and keep
things simple. Trying. I just added to the overwhelmness pile.
The first album I went through included
missionary photos – now nearly 30 years old.
There is very little sentimental (if any) left with that area or those I
served. I tried keeping in touch with
those that I served with. It made it
hard when I was doing all the letter writing with very little (if any)
correspondence on the other end. And unlike Corey with a strong connection to many of those that he served, I lost
track. I don’t know these people. And because the majority of them have faded
and lost their color – it was easier to throw away. If worse comes to worse, I
do still have the negatives But is the
technology for developing disc negatives still around?
I actually did take this picture at Virginia Beach - I took it with
my disc camera. I was always impressed with the outcome
The second album started out with a week
of summer activity. Mom and Dad had gone
with Corey on an excursion to New York. Kayla and I spent less money in the entire
week than they did in just one day. I
removed those pages.
The remaining pages were of Patrick’s
family. Thus I will take it back to mom’s
with a note for Sunny if she wishes to keep it or discard it will be her choice. I am resigning myself from the position of
family historian.
I have tried dejunking before. Rationalizing that those who lived during
Hitler’s reign were not able to hang onto their possessions. With all the natural disasters that have
taken place (floods, fires, Katrina, Sandy) so much is lost. Why hang onto it? What’s the point?
I’ve made some scrapbook pages that I’m
really quite proud of. I would like to
save those and pass them on. I would
like to save written words – they are so much more meaningful than what is
typed into the computer – even if it does seem illegible. I still have one more pile of
scrapbooks. And then the journals. My pathetic journals. Perhaps I’ll just throw those away. I would like Jenna to have something. But not so much that it will be overwhelming.
this would be an embarrassing page
Right now she’s fascinated with stuff
from my childhood – asking questions.
Some I am able to answer. Others
I have no clue. And I’m trying to teach
her that if you can’t remember the reasons you were hanging onto something in
the first place, perhaps they’re just not really worth hanging onto anymore.
I did bring home a box she had made
for the Reflections contest when she was in kindergarten. There was an award ceremony that took place
shortly after we moved. I kept the box
at mom’s house so that it wouldn’t get lost in the shuffle, and had actually
forgotten about it. Jenna
enthusiastically retrieved it. She
thinks she’s going to keep it forever.
And maybe she will. Maybe when
she’s fifty she’ll decide she really doesn’t NEED it after all.
And may my scanner last for many years
and not break down in the middle of my “dejunking” How grateful I am for modern technology which
allows me to compact my memories. I hope
what I do save will prove to be useful for generations to come.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Some Tarry and Some Labor
Matthew 20:1-16 gives us the parable of
the laborers in the vineyard. I had
always looked at the parable as one about missionary work – about the hereafter, about those who spend their whole lives in the Church striving to do
what is right and having someone who has put other’s through hell repent at the
last hour.
I have labored so many hours in the
hot burning sun – and God is telling me that if Maleficent should
choose to repent, that her reward will be the same as my own. That she is entitled to all the same
blessings as my own. I’ll admit that I
haven’t accepted this interpretation very graciously. But then who am I to think of myself as
better if she truly surrendered herself and did/does repent and actual develop a "compassion" if you will?
Slaving in the vineyard is hard
work. I have often thought that I am
really just so tired of being there. I
never gave another thought to those who are “waiting in line” – those would be laborers
that remain at the job site in hopes that the master will return with something for them –
any kind of a position that will give them some kind of wage.
In today’s economy, it is easy to see
why they would stay and tarry – but they would also hold signs that say, “I will work for
food” “Please help me. I’m poor” and so forth.
I never gave the tarrying laborers a second
thought. I hadn’t thought of this
parable with a different perspective until today. And for the first time I saw myself as one of
those who has stood in line more than once – and still find myself standing at
times.
For the message that was shared today
focused on those that are standing in line – for those who are doing everything
diligently (to the best of their ability) and showing up at the labor site day
in and day out and feel like they are just not being picked – that they, that we will never feel the blessings.
Carrie is the wife of the second
counselor, and I am married to the first.
We were actually on opposite ends of the room, but our eyes seemed to be
connected to our mouths – that is every time we would make a comment or
participated by reading, our eyes would leak and start a chain reaction of
making our voices crack.
She didn’t go into detail about why she was crying - but I think many
understood. She and Dan have been trying
to adopt. It’s been a painful
process. Why, when they attend their
Church meetings, and hold callings, and serve diligently are they still waiting
in line? Why can they not labor in the vineyard? For how long must they tarry? Why does it have to be in God’s due time?
I have spent many years asking myself that
one. It was painful to watch those I had
taught in sunbeams to get married and have children long before I even had a
prospect. People my age were
experiencing their second and third season of life. I was still in the first season and wondered
if that was it.
The instructor who shared the lesson
is in her 40’s and has never been married.
Actually there are several sisters in my ward who have never been
married. Some have friends moving
through autumn and some have actually arrived in winter. I’m probably somewhere between summer and
fall – sort of like the weather is now.
Surrendering ourselves to Him is hard. We need to have faith that He really does
know what’s best for us – that the trials we endure right now are just to make
us stronger down the road. That our “waiting
in line” isn’t done in vain – that there is a purpose. We need to endure while we wait – impatiently
or not. We can’t control His time. So why not accept it graciously?
Perhaps if I dwell on the subject long
enough, I can learn to accept it graciously.
I have been blessed. And I need
to focus more fully on those blessings.
Because right now I really am not very gracious about the whole tarrying matter.
Friday, October 26, 2012
The Haunted Maze that Ruined Halloween
The church was across the street from
our first house. The members used to do
a Halloween party every year. There
would be a dinner, costumes and activities.
People would gather in the
multipurpose room to begin with. And
there were 4-6 rooms off to the side where the children could go and
participate in various crafts, games and stories.
One Halloween my family was asked to
host a room. We found one that did not
have windows. We set up a large
cardboard box in the middle of the room.
Roland and the boys worked from inside the box.
On the outside we had painted pictures
of tombstones, skeletons, ghosts and maybe leaned toward the scary icons of
Halloween and not the cute pumpkins and such.
Our room was rather simple. We turned out the lights and invited people
to “walk through the maze” which was just a trip around the box. We had placed “scary creatures” in three of
the four corners of the room. The first
encounter was with a motion censored skeleton – as someone would approach, the
eyes would glow and the skeleton would dance to the tune of “The worms crawl
in, the worms crawl out . . . “
In one corner was a homemade
monster. We had hanging eyeballs and had
blown up a ton of balloons to be walked on.
Plus one of my four guys would operate a rat moving back and forth as he
would push and pull out a fuzzy ball tied to the end of a broom stick.
In our final corner was a button that
read “DO NOT PUSH”. Those who did got to
hear the sounds of an obnoxious horn while having confetti thrown at them.
Our “haunted maze” was a big hit with
the teenagers – but too frightening for the majority of children under eight
maybe ten. I think that was actually the
last year that a Halloween party was held in the Church building. They did (and still do) a trunk or treat out
in the parking lot – but I don’t think they do the parties anymore.
I really think that was the last one. I
can’t help but think our maze was the reason that the inside parties were done
away with. Maybe it’s just a
coincidence. But it gives one something to think about.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
And the Hunting Begins
Mom is at the point – and actually has
been for some time – where she needs 24/7 care.
Oh, there are some days where she actually seems like her old self –
someone we could leave alone and
believe she’ll be fine for the two hours that she will be by herself. It’s always another “personality” that gets
her lost.
So we have taken upon ourselves the
dreaded task of looking into assisted living – either or in or out of the
house. Corey would prefer in. I think it may be time for mom to move on so
that we can sell the house as that is what will be paying a good part of the
expense.
I had looked into one before – when Corey
didn’t believe she was ready. But I
think he’s slowly realizing that he can’t undo the situation at hand and must
face the possibility that we will have to move mom.
Corey and I went to a fabulous retirement
home called “Sunrise” - that is where I would like Randy to put me should the need
ever arise. Actually, I expect that I
will go before Roland. But that’s beside
the point. Right now we are looking for mom. And we found a strong appreciation
for what Sunrise has to offer.
On mom’s budget we could keep her there
for possibly over a year, but definitely not more than two. We have to find something lower in price –
unfortunately. Because you really do get
what you pay for in the way of Sunrise – so we’ll probably not get what we’re
not paying for by putting her elsewhere.
Corey has scheduled to see some more
places today and tomorrow. And I’ve been
invited to attend. However today is my
visit with mom and tomorrow I’ve scheduled an MRI and I’m not
rescheduling. It may be nothing – but I’ve
already gambled on it for almost four weeks now. But that will be another post.
Oh, the joys of growing old. Most Life Insurances cannot be collected
until one is deceased. So really, why is
it called “Life” insurance? There have been many who have put money into
investments to assist with retirement age.
And many of those investments have been a gamble that has not paid
well. Many investments will not fork out more than two months
worth of assisted living at Sunrise – maybe six at one that is less costly.
I feel so sorry for those who have no
income or have lost their retirement due to the economy or those who have
children who squander their savings only to have it gone when it is truly
needed.
May we be able to find an assisted living
that meets our expectations and may mom be able to adjust to it without too
much emotion. She doesn’t get what my
brothers have already tried to explain to her. I’m grateful that I didn’t have to try and
explain it to her – I’m already an emotional boob as it is.
We can’t have mom wandering off.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Out of the Mouths of Babes
Throughout the
years I’ve written down a child’s interpretation (most from four year old
minds) of what things are. Here are some of them:
Four years old,
looking for a specific shade
Which one is
“antler” brown?
On mortar:
Why are there grey
lines
on grandma’s
house?
Popeye looks just
like Charlie
Brown, but he’s a
smoker
On Saturday’s
warrior video:
“It’s a happy sad
show. But
some of it is
boring.”
“Are you sick
because you’re
building a baby?”
tiger skin
snow snakes
Potato Paper
Why does the
potato have trees
First corn dog
discovery:
“There’s a hot dog
inside!”
Adult complains
about the small
amount of money
that may accompany
a huge mound of
paper work
“Well you are
lucky. I do
paper work at
school all day long
and I don’t get
paid anything”
The cave is scary
because it has
teeth
“If you look
closely, you
can see feathers
in the moon”
If you watch too
much TV
you’ll get diarrhea
“I am so mad, I
feel like a rhinoceros
that swallowed a
rock”
“How do they get
sunflowers
to grow inside of
bagels?”
Trying to explain
her first vomiting experience:
“My mouth broke”
Chucky fried
Chicken
On Snowball Snacks
“I don’t really
like the brown
part; I just like
the skin.”
“This cereal has
no flavor”
It’s a twinkle
twinkle little star
Set up for Easter
egg hunt:
“Where the Easter
Eggs grow”
No matter who
answered the phone:
“Is this the
number for
Grandma June’s
House?”
Identifying
Chewbacca
Han Solo’s lion
“Mama! Mama!
God just took my picture!”
Grape bones
“Mama! Mama! Kayla ate the baby Jesus”
When Fival falls
overboard my
niece is genuinely
concerned:
“Does Fival ever
get to see his mom
and dad get
married in the temple?”
Sunday, October 21, 2012
We're Encouraged to Attend Often but it's not a Requirement
I realize it’s been over two months
since I last attended the temple. Sad
part about the whole ordeal is that I honestly haven’t missed going.
I have a friend who attends two or
three times a week. She thrives on it –
or at least she did when she lived in West Valley. She has moved downtown Salt Lake and is
actually a lot closer to the Salt Lake City Temple – I would think she still
goes fairly often – perhaps even moreso.
The first time my mom had gone through
the temple, it was a terrible experience for her. There was a lot that she didn’t
understand. Unbeknownst to her, she had
gone on a session with a group who were hearing impaired. Sign language was used for the benefit of
those who were hearing impaired – but my mom didn’t understand that it was done
in translation. She thought it was some
kind of symbolism that she was expected to memorize as a temple patron.
Neither my mom’s parents nor dad’s
parents were able to attend the temple with their children or see them get
married. There was an acquaintance there
to assist mom. Other than that she
really didn’t know anyone – except for my dad – who was newly attending the
temple himself. It would be years before
they returned.
Patrick went through the temple a year
and a half before I did. Mom thought I
would be nervous – but I wasn’t. I
didn’t know what I was expecting, but I remember that I didn’t find it
there. I think I was expecting it to be
more special than it was. But there was
nothing there that doesn’t already exist in the scriptures. I don’t know if disappointing is the correct
term, but I didn’t feel the empowering Spirit or experience the sensational
wonder that so many others have claimed and continue to feel.
I suppose there are a few times that I
have felt uplifted and at peace. But
more often than not it’s just a routine experience or an actual hurtful event
for me. I think the last two times I
actually felt put off and I guess that’s why I don’t miss it.
I actually have quite a few memories
about the temple – such as when both Corey and Kayla had gone through for the first
time, or the many marriage ceremonies (including my own) that I’ve
attended. But out of respect to the
Church and those who attend the temple, I will end my post here. For even though I personally have not felt
the awesomeness that many others have had (and will continue to have) there
still is a definite sacredness that shouldn’t be tarnished upon the
Internet. And it’s not something that
everybody is going to “get” anyway no matter how I try to explain it – which actually
may cause deeper regrets on my end.
I’m grateful to the enthusiasm that
others have shared and for their desire to attend as often as possible. It’s just not there for me. Never has been. Even when I was trying to attend regularly.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Looking for Letters in the Mail: Introducing My Child to a Lost Art
I don’t know that pen palling is
really a lost art. It just seems with
the internet and facebook and email and such – the written letters seem to be a
thing of the past.
Earlier I created this post. Jenna and her cousin Melody had promised to
write one another every day. And for an
entire week Jenna really did – though I did not mail on a daily basis. I would accumulate and then mail.
I ended up sending two or three pieces
of mail. Jenna was really disappointed
that Melody hadn’t written back. I
actually believe that Melody did write – perhaps every day in the beginning –
but I don’t believe it was a priority for either mom or dad to address the
envelope and put a stamp on it. Thus
they never got mailed.
For a while I would leave letters in
the box for Jenna. They had all been
signed, “Your Secret Friend”. She had actually given Melody the credit and has
written back to her. Still nothing from
Melody though.
And so I went on a pen pal search. I Googled and brought up some sites – some
wanted money – though not a lot. I’m
cheap and still looked for another alternate.
And I found a blog site that gave the suggestion of finding friends
through friends.
I have several friends on facebook who
live out of state – there are even a couple that live out of the country – but
until Jenna is willing to build up her vocabulary and actually write more than
two sentences, I am not willing to pay over a dollar per ½ ounce sent. So we are remaining in the states for the
time being.
As of now she is up to seven pen pals. Six have written back. Two are actually facebook friends who are
many years older than Jenna (one actually closer to my age) and a distant
cousin and none she’s ever met.
But it is truly a joy to watch her
excitement as she retrieves any mail that has her name on it. Two Halloween cards. And lots of treasures – the latest with a
bonus letter – because even though the initial letter was sent to Paul, his
younger sister saw Jenna’s picture and decided that she was beautiful and would
like to write to her herself.
Interestingly enough, Paul and Jenna
each attend a school with the very same name. They both like music, singing,
acting and arts. He writes how his three
sisters drive him crazy and she wrote back that her three brothers drive her
bananas – which is actually not true.
Biff is the only one who lives with
us. True, he does get on her nerves at
times, but that is because he works graveyards and thus likes to sleep during the
day – which often is a challenge as Jenna is usually so loud and dramatic.
Randy (the most mature of my three
boys) drops by occasionally to use the computer. He is very gentle with her and speaks kindly
to her and often challenges her intellect.
(Not to say that Biff isn’t kind – but he’s definitely not as
gentle. Pokes and teases her – and she
is mostly never in the mood)
We rarely see Tony as he is in another
state. Jenna adores him. I don’t think
he has ever driven her bonkers – but then again . . . I can remember them
arguing in the backseat of the car as though they were two five year olds –
what is really sad as that they are sixteen years apart.
Jenna was off school yesterday and
again today. We will send letters to at
least four friends this weekend. And if
we get another letter, we will just add to the friendship list.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Don’t Yell at Aunt Gertrude
Somebody had suggested that someone
take a mom for a drive to look at the fall.
Knowing my own vehicle wasn’t going to make it up the canyon (it
actually was too sluggish to get near the base) I chose an alternate, perhaps a
more scenic route and asked if she would like to visit my 91 year old
great-aunt.
Aunt Trudy has ALWAYS been
active. Over the years she has become
hard of hearing, but she is still sharp as ever with brand new driver’s license
in hand. She was so excited to see my
mom and me (as it has been a while) and we visited just briefly.
“Well, it was so good to see you,” my
mom kept on saying – as though we’d be leaving fairly soon. What was her problem?
Aunt Trudy would ask a question which
mom would answer – but in her quiet voice and then I would loudly repeat it for
Aunt Trudy. Mom excused herself
again. “Well, I need to get back home.”
“What do you need to get home for?” I
asked.
“I just need to go home!” she yelled.
“I guess our visit is over,” I said to
Aunt Trudy, while trying my hardest to use an apologetic tone and expression.
It hadn’t dawned on me until almost
three hours later that my voice raising or yelling was the cause of what was
bothering mom. Corey confirmed that when
he said she didn’t like loud noises.
That would explain the tension between her and Jenna – though all of us
have complained that Jenna’s volume really can get too loud. Our level of tolerance seems to be more civil
than my mom’s. She gets frailer with each passing day.
Daddy was frail before he left this
earth. But he still had his mind. Mom’s physical condition is okay, but her
mind is not. That’s a lot harder, I
think. On us anyway. I think it’s hard on her – but not the same
way that physical pain is. Soon she’ll forget that there was any emotional
pain. She’ll resort back to a place
where we just won’t be able to find her.
Often she already thinks that I grew up with her in San Francisco and is
always surprised when she asks me and I tell her that I have never lived in San
Francisco, only visited.
I need to visit Aunt Trudy again – but
without mom or with mom on one side of the room and me on the other. I think I ought to invite Kayla and her two
to come with me. I don’t know that Aunt
Trudy has ever seen Garrett.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)