from an instant message:
"Mom, you just cannot believe the language. It's so awful.....the Lord's name in vain, the 'f' word every other word in a sentence. After awhile, those words just begin to swim around in your head."
I was disgusted, and I wanted to fly over to Afghanistan, and give those soldiers a tongue lashing. I wanted to write a letter to General McCrystal and the Pentagon and say, "What is going on here...military personnel should be held to a higher standard. "
THE MOM IN ME wanted to step in to protect my son's exposure to this foul language - (and he was a lieutenant commander!)
from a conversation at the kitchen table:
"Mom, I've tried to call them and I've left a message, but they just don't respond. I guess they just don't want to include me in their FHE group."
I was dismayed, and I wanted to call the Bishop and the head of the Family Home Evening Group Leader and say..."just because she lives at home doesn't mean she isn't part of your FHE groups."
THE MOM IN ME wanted to step in and protect my daughter from the indifference she was facing - (and she was a freshman in college!)
from a phone call:
"Mom, one of my roommates stole six hundred dollars from me! It was hidden way back in a drawer. I needed that money!"
I was upset, and I wanted to drive right down to the university, get the money back, and give the thief/roommate a good spanking.
THE MOM IN ME wanted to protect my daughter from the ways of the world - (and she was a senior in college!)
Being a mom just never ends....it starts the minute you get the results from the pregnancy test, and it just goes on and on - even when they are in college or parents of their own or adults; it's beautiful and wonderful. But, every feeling and emotion of the child's becomes the mom's. Every heartbreak becomes the mom's. Every hurt, loss, sorrow, disappointment, becomes the mom's also.
And that is why - when this happens:
from an email:
"Mom, he makes me so happy; he's so GOOD to me."
THE MOM IN ME rejoiced!
He looked at me quizzically, then responded,"Grandma, why do you always make potato salad when we come?"
I laughed..."Because whenever you come, we invite your cousins to come over and have a hamburger cookout. And, potato salad just goes with hamburgers, so that's why I make it when you come."
To myself, I realized I was totally dreading it. I'm not that great of a cook, and it's always an iffy thing to make the potato salad taste just right. It's very labour intensive so I don't like to spend all that much time on the project, especially if it doesn't turn out tasty wasty. Plus, I knew we were having a huge crowd, so I would be making twice as much....I dreaded the project.
While all the boys/men left the house to go fishing, I grudgingly began to make the salad; boil the eggs, steam the potatoes, chop the onion, celery, pickles, etc. However, just as I started the lengthy process, I thought of Dr. Gregerson....honestly, I don't know why he popped into my head. Except that he did.
I had just recently met him. He lost a leg to diabetes. He told me about his struggles to learn to walk with his prosthesis, but had been unsuccesful so far, so he used a wheelchair. Oh, he hated it!
So, as I began to peel the potatoes, I thought of him. It was an epiphany moment. Suddenly, I was so GLAD to be able to stand at my kitchen counter and cut, chop, slice, dice. I was THRILLED to be able to walk around and grab the mayo, mustard, spices. I was DELIGHTED to be able to serve my family this food of my own making.
And, I was, once again, humbled! Thank you, Heavenly Father, that I can make potato salad. What a great blessing.
So, Oscar, when you come again...look forward to more salad, and know that I LOVE making it for you and Bridger and Sayre and Stockton and Landon and Janessa, and anyone else we happen to invite for dinner.
"Who all will be there?" "The whole anesthesiology department."
She was nervous, she said.
"But, you are so good in front of people," I would reassure her....
"Yeah, but these people are all so smart....it's very scary!"
Truthfully, I can't imagine giving a presentation like this...and when I saw the little short snatch, it sounds like she is talking a foreign language, which in a way, she is.
But, she knows her stuff, and she did great. I have this on very good authority from a person who was present and certainly NOT in any way prejudiced.
Great job, Dr. KDHR. We are proud of you. And you don't have to do a great presentation to make us proud....
If you would like to listen to two minutes out of her longer presentation on stuff way over your head, you can watch it here:
After class, Corey sauntered up; Corey was H*U*G*E! (Nowdays, lots of kids are huge, but not back then; he went to state in the heavyweight wrestling tournament; I mean we are talking BIG BOY here!) He said, "I ain't read a book since third grade, and I ain't gunna start now!" My teeth chattered.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday: a reminder to the students to bring their books.
Friday: Big long lecture/reminder to bring books on Monday.
Monday: the ninth graders filed in with books of all varieties: Anne Frank's Diary ("my mother made me read it...it's boring!"); Lord of the Flies ("my father recommended I read it..it's great.")
Corey mosied up where I was standing in front of my desk. "I ain't got no book," he said. I grimaced and reached behimd my back where I knew there were stacks of books. Not looking, I grabbed one, and put "Island of the Blue Dolphins" in his enormous hands.
"Try this," I said.
Three days later, as I was seated at me desk, Corey strode up, literally slammed the book on the desk, looked down into my startled face and said,
"You got any more like this?"
Oh, I love a good book, and so apparently did Corey!
She loves chicken fettucini, so that is what she ordered and she ate every bit of it.
She told a fun story of the principal not wanting the students to wear tennis shoes (even new ones), or decorate their hats. "This is NOT your day," he said, "this is MY school, MY day!" She spoke to him rationally, controlled her emotions, and eventually grudgingly won him over.
In the auditorium, the students filed in wearing red gowns with red hats, (many decorated on the top, and some wearing tennis shoes). But, it was THEIR day; they were well-behaved, fun-spirited, and excited.
Then it was home to open presents and take lots of pictures and bask in the glow of the event.....
Ah, these are the moments worth remembering and reliving.
She made it many years ago; it has seen lots of wear/use.
And each time I pull it out of the drawer, I am reminded of the beautiful girl who crocheted it for me.
Now that little girl will graduate from high school on May 27. She has been uber-involved, yet she has maintained good grades, and even more importantly, she has maintained her values, her integrity, and her delightful personality.
What a gift for a grandmother; not just the dish cloth, but the maker!
Then WWII interrupted their lives.
He went to war just as he learned he would be a new father.
She went to California and had a baby girl while he was at sea.
He was lonely and far away... mostly he yearned to come home to wife and daughter.
She was lonely and yearning for companionship.
But, instead of coming home to a wife and 2 year old daughter, he came home to a divorce....oh, he was hurt, angry, bitter, disappointed; a host of emotions.
But, he loved his beautiful little daughter, and faithfully took her every summer. He loved her deeply, was proud of her, but had angry feelings for her mother.
He often shook his finger in his little daughter's face criticizing the little girl's mother. It was hard on her, she loved her mother, and didn't understand her father's anger.
Many years have passed; some emotions may have changed.
The father is old, the mother deceased. Each married someone else and had a happy companionship with another spouse.
Father and daughter love each other deeply; she is a saint to him, he so good to her.
But, the lingering effects of divorce remain with both of them.
I know that divorce is hard, hurtful, painful, emotional; but I do admire the divorced parent who never belittles or speaks badly of the former spouse.
Easy to say; hard to do.
"Marrying right after his first wife died....he hadn't had time to grieve, and she was still perfect to him. Also quitting my full-time job at the church office building. I did both at the same time....dumb mistake." EL
"Following the advice of my neighbor (who was a cement man), that it wouldn't freeze; then pouring cement, and it froze...now there are big chunks in the sidewalk." RT
"Marrying the wrong person." SK
"Paying twenty five dollars for a lousy haircut....well, maybe that's not exactly the biggest mistake I've ever made, but it was definitely a dumb one!" VT
"Tattooing my husband's name on my right upper arm....he's a jerk, and his name is emblazoned on there forever!" FM
"Letting myself gain so much weight!" GL
"Thinking I could make $$$$ in the stock market." SV
Mistakes, we all make them....but, do we learn something from it, and turn it into a valuable lesson, or just make the same ones over again?????
And, then, he was off my lap in a flash!
"He's never been so communicative; he just seems so much happier now that he has this girlfriend...we're so excited to meet her to understand this transformation." la - the mother
"I'm literally on cloud 9." hha
"She was so unhappy for so long...now she just glows." tl - the mother
"He's a hunka-hunka!" jg
Ahhhhhh. love; no matter what age....it's powerful
Well, now Congress, with no other pressing problems on their agenda, has apparently taken up the cause to fight for women's equality in our nation's capitol buildings....
I can hardly believe this: Look at this article from Fox News
And, here I thought Congress was dealing with trivial issues such as immigration reform, jobs, the economy....
I didn't really want to go there because I've never been a fan of Oriental cooking. And, THAI cooking???? Didn't sound that great to MOI, but we headed to Tara Thai in Charlottesville, VA.
What a great lesson I (re)learned. It was my favorite meal of the entire trip. Great, great flavor. I would just love to have some of this again...like today, right NOW!
It so pleased and surprised my taste buds.
So, there you have it...another lesson learned.
Best not to judge...whether it's people or food.
And, I'm NOT talking about lower wages than men, fewer CEO positions than men...NO, I am talking about a basic HUMAN NEED....potty breaks and even more importantly - POTTIES!
Can you relate to any of these scenarios...
1. We had to catch a very early flight at an airport 2 hours away, so we left at one am. To keep us awake, we downed lots of Pepsi...yup, you guessed it..that meant we had to visit the restroom before arriving at our destination. The Master of the Car was looking uncomfortable, his legs were twitching. So, he pulled over along the deserted highway, and said, "Whew, this desert needs watering." Climbed into the car with relief written all over his face, and continued to drive along. Meanwhile, I had to wait in agony for the next 25 minutes to find an all-night gas station, which we did. It was built in 1953, and the bathroom hadn't been cleaned since then.
2. On a sightseeing tour in Europe - (I swear those European women have bladders the size of the Baltic Sea - there are NO restrooms in Europe - something you may want to consider when thinking of your next vacation.) But, I digress. We were at Blenheim Palace, birthplace of Sir Winston Churchill. It was magnificent. And, we were encouraged to walk the grounds to see the incredible gardens....only a three mile round-trip walk. It was hot, so we drank lots of water. Which meant we needed to wee, wee, wee after a mile and a half...but the restrooms were back at the main quarters. The Master of the Walk looked around, and seeing no other human, discreetly stepped behind a large bush and declared, "It needs a little fertilizer." Meanwhile, I had to dash quicker than I had ever run, back the mile and a half to the restroom where I was the 13th lady in line, while the men's room had no one in line...and you can guess why, I'm sure.
3. And, most annoying of all.....we were camping with family and friends. Fred had made his tasty home-made root beer, which the Master of the Tent and I drank more than we should have. At 2 a.m., I heard him stirring...."Wow, I drank too much root beer." So, he stepped right outside the tent door, and turning to the side said, "This will help these cacti grow." Within 12 seconds he was back sound asleep. Meanwhile, I was searching in the pitch black for the flashlight, which I found under the dog's drooling mouth, and my shoes...had I put them at the foot of my sleeping bag, which would have made perfect sense, or at the head of the sleeping bag, which would make no sense at all. Finally, I was armed and ready to sneak out of the tent...but since others may also have had too much root beer, I didn't want anyone to see my silhouette in the total darkness, so I felt compelled to walk a half a mile away for privacy. While nature was calling, so were the mosquitoes. I got bit 13 times on my hiney....and had to speak in church the next day..have you ever spoken in church with 13 mosquito bites on your rear end? Not pretty.
So, ladies, I call on us to unite...vote for only those politicians whose wives understand the need for clean, attractive lovely-smelling restrooms every mile along freeways, restrooms spaced every 500 yards apart at tourist attractions, and restrooms close by every campsite in America.
But, you might be saying, "Won't that look ugly?"
Listen, I just returned from Disneyworld....if they can make a shrub look like Minnie Mouse, surely they can design a saguaro cactus to be a concealed ladies' room,
Oops, I have to go.
Last night was the final orchestra concert - perhaps of her life.
She started violin when she was just 4 or 5. I still remember her very first concert. She was so tiny, and the violin was even tinier. But, oh, she's worked very hard the last nine years; lots of hours of practice and self-discipline.
She's performed at: county fairs, pageants, concerts, more concerts, fiddle contests, church events, nursing homes, family gatherings. To perform, she's worn: cowboy boots and hats, formal attire, street clothes, Sunday best, and orchestra black and white.
Last night two emotions ran high in the Fisher family:
1. her mom was very teary-eyed realizing this was her daughter's last concert.
2. her 16 year-old twin brothers were giving each other jubilant high fives realizing this was the last orchestra concert they would have to attend.
She looked beautiful in orchestra black/white with her shimmery eye shadow above her startling blue eyes and her long brown hair.
Yes, it was the end of a wonderful era....
Thanks, Janessa, for the musical memories to last a lifetime!
If you'd like to hear portions of the final number Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, you can find it
No time to hit the snooze button....she gets out of bed, does the morning routine quickly;
brush teeth; quickly run a comb through beatuiful shoulder-length hair; grab an energy bar; make a quick lunch of a left-over boiled egg, strawberries, string cheese;
then out the door before six; get on the bike or the scooter, or if any extra time, walk to the hospital.
Today she may see: a young child whose stitches from previous operation have come out and his bowel protrudes through stomach; a 68 yr. old with parkinson's disease, so they operate giving her deep-brain stimulation while she is awake; a gall bladder operation on a 300 pound patient; a very young accident victim who later dies; she sees it all.
Her day ends at five, six, seven, eight, but rarely earlier.
She returns home - to study.
Always needing to stay in or ahead of the game. Ever present loom the national boards.
The kitchen table is literally covered with magazines and books from her craft; the anesthesiology journal, anesthesiology news, text books, etc. By the reading chair in her front room are similar materials.
She falls asleep with her books scattered round, so to bed, and then, all too quickly, the pattern is repeated; day in and day out.
Laundry, shopping, cleaning, hiking, exercising; they are all sandwiched in on a rare day off.
She is beautiful, talented, creative, funny, strong, generous, tender-hearted, thoughtful, good...
And every once in awhile, she sneaks in some time for fun - like the other night when we went to dinner with the doc and her friend. She wore these gorgeous red shoes - oh, I so wish I had a picture, and she looked so pretty/fantastic!!!!
She is our daughter...
and, oh, how we love this young doc.
I just burst out laughing; how I love Lucy!
"Grandma," she said. "I'm going to tell you a scary story, and when I get to the scary part, I'm going to need a hug!"
Oh, just that statement deserved a BIG hug!
How I love Anna.
Watching Imogen run and play in the park, listening to Oliver who knows so much, how I love those two.
It makes me realize that I don't like living so far away from these grandchildren!