Pioneering and Such

Our Church youth went on a pioneer trek this past week. Layne and I were in charge of putting together vignettes, or short, dramatized pioneer historical stories, for the kids to experience as they walked their own pioneer trail, pushing and pulling handcarts as they went. It was a three day event, held in a park located near Gilroy. It was dirty, dusty, challenging and fun. By the end of three days without showers and with plenty of dirt we were so coated with grunge that it just didn't matter anymore. In a way it was comfortable; no more worries about getting dirty. Our vignette actors did a great job. I believe the kids were inspired by what we presented to them. I was happy with our effort. Layne looked great in his pioneer outfit of tan and brown. Here you can see him about to present the "crossing of the Sweetwater" to the kids as they approached with their handcarts. Nearby you can see some of the guys pushing the carts across our own "Sweetwater". The girls wait on the other side, where the guys carried them. It was pretty sweet and lots of fun.

Sunday was Father's Day. Layne is in a "don't get me anything" mode. So I didn't. The whole local gang joined us for dinner and the big collection of June birthdays that June brings us. It was an explosion of celebration. There was lots of food, gifts and interaction. I love having family.

I can feel myself changing. I am content to be at home for longer periods of time. Not that I actually experience that very often. But when I do, I like it. I am happier to be alone. My younger self sought out people and bonding, but now I feel content to let whomever wishes to come to me. I have to push myself to connect. At least compared to former days. I suppose I am more given to ponderings and quiet experiences. I am amazed at what I am becoming!

Losses and Gains

Life is full of surprising events. I have been spending quite a bit of time with a good friend, Debbie Anderson, who has been struggling with an unusual disease. It is debilitating but not fatal. Deb has been quite discouraged about losing so much function. I've tried to help her redirect by helping her start to write her life story. We have had much fun piecing her life together in written form, in what we hoped would be a gift for her family. Deb and I met at school, where our children attended some of the same classes. She and I involved ourselves in some causes that we felt were important. Deb is a "cause" kind of girl. We have found much in common and have nourished our friendship over quite a few years now. It has been several weeks since I've seen Debbie. We've been busy in Colorado. She has been struggling with her health a bit more lately. Imagine my shock to hear that Deborah P. Anderson PASSED AWAY this past Wednesday. This disease that "is not fatal" led to a condition that took her life! I've had trouble getting used to the idea of Debbie being gone. Her family is reeling from the unexpected loss. I have been racking my brain to think of what I could do for them. I think I have an idea. I'm going to put the history I have on Deb together with pictures of her into a book for the family. Perhaps it will be a closing of the project we began to bless her family with her story.

Life has its twists and turns. I have a firm belief that death is an adventure that takes us into benevolent territory. I don't mind the thought of it. So why do I feel such a loss when those I am close to pass away? Carmen gave us time to adjust to her leaving us. It was some help to us. Sudden passings leave us in a more unbalanced state. I'm glad to know that they are temporary. Soon enough we will all be together again. But the view from here is clouded.

The world spins on. It is a beautiful day today, very warm and summery. Layne and I just celebrated our 44th wedding anniversary by going out to dinner at China Chilies, one of my favorite places to eat. When we eat out. Which is rare. But then, that just makes it more special, don't you think? In the accompanying picture you can see Layne waiting patiently at our table for dinner to be served. I'm grateful to be involved in a relationship that has been mutually nurturing over the years.

We have two grandsons who are deacons now. Being both twelve years of age, they can go to the temple and do baptisms. They went together, along with granddaughter Allegra, this past Wednesday. What a joy it is to see these children grow into strong, good people. Here you can see Isaiah and James ready to head for the temple. Blessings abound.

Summer Begins

We live in two worlds now. After two weeks in Colorado, we are home again. Our Colorado time was comfortable and embracing. We celebrated Memorial Day by visiting the Cedaredge cemetery, where more of my dead relatives are gathered than any other single place. Mom, Layne, Allegra and I gathered at Daddy's grave. The Cemetery was filled with big flags, all waving in the breeze. It always inspires me to see our flag waving. Small ones decorated all the veteran's graves. I can gratefully say that Daddy was among them. I wonder why just about every generation has to fight. It is such an ugly side to our nature that we cannot seem to co-exist in peace for long. Sometimes it seems that our history could be written strictly in terms of wars. Yet I prefer to write of the simple causes of peace and happiness. Call me a Pollyanna if you wish. I've been called that before.

In the picture, Mom sits in front of Daddy's grave.

I lost myself for a time in Colorado sorting through Mom's old photographs. I found some that I haven't seen before. I am filled with a desire to organize and record our family's history. I can see that if it is not done, it will be forgotten. My children know so little of life before them. I feel I must give them a record. So I busily took photos of the pictures that I found. I have a passion to organize all family stuff. Memories should not be forgotten.

Here are two old photos. The first is of Maryanne and me in a pose for our Dad on Father's Day many years ago. The second picture is of Mother shortly after her marriage.

It is good to be home again. Summer seems to be here. The hills are mostly brown. The yard is moving into a dormant stage, where things die back. The poppies have done that. There are few blooms left. But beneath the dying bushes small, green sprouts are emerging. With a little summer water they may bloom again. I walk through our house and it feels a little empty. Mom is not here. I keep running into my routine with her and feel strangely at a loss. But I have my list of June things to do now, so the hole will soon be filled. But I miss her.

A Colorado Sabbath

It is a beautiful spring afternoon in Cedaredge, Colorado. I am sitting on the deck that our family men built for my mom at a family reunion. It overlooks her pasture, which, at this moment, is filled with green grasses and cattle. Birds skirt about, talking to and chasing each other. A soft breeze blows throughthe trees and a blue sky encircles it all. Layne and granddaughter Allegra are resting inside. In the top picture is my view of mom's pasture from the deck. You can see the tips of my toes on the bottom left of the picture.

Mother lies in her chair, sleeping. She seems happy to be home, surrounded by familiar places and people. Being here seems to bring out her memories. She thinks about her past more and more. Since there is little to do in her present, I can understand her going there. In fact, it serves me well. I am trying to get her memories written down. She has been telling me many of them over the past few days. I am hearing things I haven't heard before. I find it rewarding and somehow joy-promoting to hear what she has to say. Her memory seems to be opening up. I'm glad for it.

Mother went to the eye doctor this past week. It appears that she has mild cases of glaucoma and macular degeneration. I was shocked to see how her vision has deteriorated. We are trying glaucoma drops for a month to make sure it is the right thing to do for her. then she will get glasses again. I left the doctors feeling that she is beginning to experience a general physical decline. I know-----she is almost 93! But she has been so vibrant and strong. I was so hoping that she would leave this world on a sprint. But that is not to be.

We have spent so much time in Colorado the last couple of years that it is feeling like a second home. I don't mind my time here; in fact, I enjoy it. I can feel my thoughts here better than home somehow. Less is needed from me here. Caring for Mom is my only mandatory task. The rest of my time can be spent in pursuits of my own making. In the picture below you can see the barnyard behind Mom's home.

There is a place called the Apple Shed here that houses lots of works of art by various local artists. I visited there yesterday and wandered throughout, feeling quite inspired by all the different types of art on display. It was pure pleasure to run into my Colorado art teacher, Barbara Torke. We had a lovely bond. Later in the summer I plan to take some more pastel lessons from her.

In spite of the efforts involved in caring for Mom, I'm grateful for this time. I love being here and being able to give Mom something. I hope she can live gently and peacefully during this time.