Blogging Slacker.

It used to be that I hardly missed a day-  now I am practically missing weeks or nearly months.  We have been busy, of course, and that makes it harder. 

We had a great Thanksgiving long weekend.  We made our traditional trip up the mountain and cut down our Christmas tree.  We unfortunately do not have enough snow around yet so no snowmobiling, much to Outpatient's chagrin.

We also made decorated "gingerbread" houses- which really needs its own post.  Especially some of the details, but I do not have the pictures downloaded yet.

That last sentence is a very telling thing-  if you know me at all.  I am sort of psychotic about getting my pictures onto my computer and I have even been slacking at that.

I keep saying I am going to better- but then life happens.

My goal is going to be- at the very least- to post on here at least once a week.

If I don't- please yell in my general direction.

Memories-

I have been reminiscing quite a bit the last few days.  Remembering things from my childhood.  I have posted on here before about Marcia, here.  a longtime family friend and one of the sweetest people you could be so fortunate to know.  Well, Marcia is married to one of the sweetest men you could ever know.  His name is Dennis.  Dennis has been living with Parkinson's for many many years, until Sunday when Heavenly Father called him home.  Dennis and Marcia owned and operated a care facility for the mentally (and physically) challenged.  They raised 6 kids and were close friends with my parents for over 40 years.  On Facebook today, one of the daughters posted that people keep telling her it is for the best.  She says it doesn't feel like it is for the best.  And it won't, for her anyway. 

It is interesting, because we just passed the 23rd anniversary of my father's accident.  My mom and I were discussing how we had prayed so hard for my dad to live, but if we had known just what he would have to live with and through, we might not have prayed quite so hard.  My dad's health is going downhill fast.  He has always been so adamantly proud of getting out of a wheelchair and re-learning how to walk.  Just recently he told my mom he needs a chair again.  This is a major concession for him.  He is falling a lot.  Getting confused (dementia) more and more.  It is hard to watch, and when it is time for him to go on, it will be for the best, and I will feel that it is. For all intents and purposes, I lost my dad 23 years ago.  For Dennis' family, his body was sick, but his mind was still okay.  His personality was still there and intact.

I have great memories of time spent with their family.  Softball games and camping, and just running around the neighborhood.  I remember a Christmas time when my dad was trying to help them with their plumbing and we couldn't get our celebration started until he was done.  ( I might or might not have been kind of bratty about that).

I am grateful for Dennis and Marcia and the example and influence they have had in my life.  It probably feels amazing to Dennis to not have his body trapping him.  My thoughts are with the family this week, that is for sure.

Blast From The Past

ONE YEAR AGO THIS PAST WEEK:

Oldest and Middle at the Tournament

Outpatient and DR were hanging out in Brazil

TWO YEARS AGO:

I already had blooms in my yard.  Happy to report that the tips are at least poking out of the ground.

THREE YEARS AGO:

My front room was clean. And had new furniture.  Now it is painted a different color, has spent the last two plus weeks as a sick room, and the corner behind the chair is my "Wedding Stash" corner.

FOUR YEARS AGO:

Outpatient finished up his hockey life.  These were the seniors- but only the one on the far right even comes close to how many years Outpatient played- he also happens to be his best friend since 4th grade.

The slightly emotional coaches moment.

FIVE YEARS AGO:

Outpatient's soccer team got creative at shoveling snow in St George.

And Oldest is mad about what ever is gooped in his hair.



Random Memory

I think I was in Junior High-  possibly high school- but not older than a freshman.  I came home from school one day to find my bedroom spotless.  Except for a few random items which did not belong to me or my sister.

It took her three hours, but my mom had cleaned mine and my sister's room spotless. I have no idea what all she found and had to clean up-  but I am sure it was a disaster area.

I remember walking in and feeling so good- Not only the great feeling of being in a room so totally clean that I didn't have to do-  but also that my mom cleaned my room and didn't say anything bad about it to me.

I don't remember if I said thank you.

THANK YOU MOM!!!

To Do List Dec 20th to Dec 25th.

Play in massive snow piles-  Check.

Outpatient and Oldest play hockey together for first time EVER---- Check ( Outpatient got a hat trick- kid's still got it- albeit a bit rusty) 

EAT..... Check.  Check.  Check.

Wear our Pajamas a lot... Check.

Dress up....  Check.

Elf Shoes.... Check.

Double Check. (those shoes belong to LOL.)

Receive wonderful surprises.  Check. Check. Check.

Bust out the new snow gear and ride the new powder... Check.

Lots of hugging and smooching.  (well- for these two).... Double Check.

Christmas Memories 2010-  Check.

The Provo Tabernacle

My earliest clear memory of the tabernacle is from my early childhood. My sister and I were arrayed in our Easter Finest- white lace gloves and two of the itchiest, stiffly pleated dresses, one pink, one yellow. We were maybe 5 or 6 plus two years for her. I remember walking across the sunny west lawn to return to our parked car following Stake Conference.

The scene was repeated many times over the course of my youth and teen years. Thankfully minus those particular dresses (cute to my mom, but torture to us).

I have mental snap shots of memories in different pews, up in the balcony, and down on the main level.

My senior year, it was the scene of a funeral that was unlike any other I had or have atended, as three members of a family were mourned while the father watched from his hospital bed by closed circut tv, and then he passed away too- just days later. The three dark wood caskets covered in huge sprays of red roses. I remember my friend Stacy's brother- the sole survivor of the accident being wheeled in from the right side, his silent sobs shaking his large Football star frame.

My next memory is of Seminary graduation later that spring.

My phone buzzed early Friday morning. I expected to see a text of some sort from Outpatient. Instead, it was from my mother.

"The Provo Tabernacle is burning"

My heart sunk. I am so sad and I pray that it was not arson.

A Few Scattered Memories

For some odd reason, I woke this morning to some very random childhood memories. First I was thinking of my friend's giant sheepdog. On facebook, I accidentally called it a St Bernard (both big dogs)- Out of the blue memory for sure. Then, I started thinking about being a candy stripe - r volunteer at the hospital. Random enough for you?

My friend Heathre lived down the street and had an awesome treehouse/playhouse. She had one sister, and they were both adopted. I could tell their parents loved those girls very much. Her mom had the best laugh! I can still hear it in my mind. Her dad worked at the college in the food services. Sometimes we got to go to his work and we would get a mint brownie. I remember LaDawn taking us to Salt Lake and buying me a bag of sea shells. Heathre got her dog, Eddison as a puppy. He was roughly the size of a bear cub :). He went through all those puppy stages in giant fashion. I seem to recall lots of destruction in their back yard. To get into the playhouse, her parents had to lower the steps/ladder that was on a pulley system. I also remember Heathre and I trying to get that dog up that ladder into the treehouse- what I wouldn't give for a video of that today- I am sure it was hysterically funny to watch. Why I was thinking of all that this morning between the older patients' alarm, and the Youngest's, I don't know.

When I was in junior high, I became good friends with a girl named Tonya Lane. Her mom was a romance novelist (for real). I don't know what her dad did, he seemed to always be around when I was there which was different from my dad. Anyway, I don't recall exactly how it came about, but she and I decided to volunteer at the hospital. The older ladies that do so are known as Pink Ladies. The girls were called Candy Stripe- ers. I wrote it that way to make sure you pronounced the Stripe- and not strip. Ha. We wore white shirts and white pants, then a red and white striped apron. I think when we signed up to do that, we thought we would be spending the time together, but we seldom worked at the same time. A few of the "jobs" I did were sitting at the front desk and answering phones, in those days, we actually could give out the room numbers. We accepted floral deliveries and took them to the patient rooms. I also called bishops or other religious leaders to let them know a member of their congregation had either died, had a baby, or was in the hospital for some other reason. I doubt they do that stuff any more. This strikes me as funny, because anyone who knows me, is aware that I have a phone phobia when it comes to calling. My mother made my hair and other appointments clear up until I moved to Washington- and sometimes, even then she made appointments for me when I was coming home for something. LOL! She is SUCH an Enabler :) (Thanks Mom!!! Love you!)

Another job I did at the hospital was the candy/gift cart. Oh- that was also hard for me. We had a cart that was covered in stuff from the gift shop that we would take to certain floors and rooms to give patients and their families a chance to get a treat or a prize for those who couldn't leave their room. I also had the job of washing hair. I am not kidding. We would go into rooms- particularly of elderly ladies, and offer to wash their hair with waterless shampoo.
I am sure there were other responsibilities that I don't recall, but those were the jobs I remember doing , and as reward for our service, we got to eat in the hospital cafeteria, which has much better food that what comes to the patients' rooms.

My friend Tonya and I went completely separate ways when we got to high school. I remember watching with shock as she and another girl I knew from childhood got into a huge fight at our rivals' home court during a basketball game. I read in the paper a while after graduation that she had been killed in a car wreck. Then, about a year later, I read in the paper that her parents had divorced. I don't know what would have changed if she and I had stayed close. I just knew she was choosing different friends than I wanted to have, so I let the relationship slide.

Your guess is as good as mine as to why these two memories were in the fore-front this morning between 6 and 6:30. A friend's dog, and being a candy stripe -er.