Friends and Family

The same weekend our grandson Bruce was born, friends of Mom's from Colorado came visiting. We asked them what they would most like to do and they came up with something that surprised me. They wanted to visit Alcatraz. It is an interesting thing that we don't visit local sights unless visitors lead us to do so. I've never been interested in visiting Alcatraz; I've always thought it would be a depressing experience. But we dutifully made arrangements to take our friends, Cliff and Elaine Conlon, on this particular adventure.

So on Monday, January 17th (MLK Day), we headed out early for San Francisco. We took BART, then a bus to Pier 33, where a ferry took us to Alcatraz Island. Just getting there was a fun adventure. The day was foggy at first, but opened up into a beautiful sunny day. Upon landing at Alcatraz I was surprised by the beauty of the sights that greeted us. The Island is a rocky hill but has pockets of grasses and flowers that make a lovely setting for what is now the skeletal remains of a maximum security prison, closed since the 1960s. The tour took us through the prison, located at the top of the island. It was fascinating. My conclusion is that it was a perfect place for a prison. The tides made a swim to the mainland nearly impossible. Yet the city is placed close enough to the prison to make the sight of it a daily reminder of freedoms missed. When the wind blew just right, even the sounds of the city greeted the prisoners as a regular prompting of what could have been, if their choices had been different. The thought of what could have been strikes me as a major source of sorrow. What a perfect set-up for a prison to my way of thinking. It is too bad that it is now closed and only offers a crumbling reminder of its former use. It was closed because it was too expensive to maintain, supposedly. But it seems to me it was really closed for political reasons. A shame.

In the photo on top you can see the Conlons with Layne standing in front of one of the deteriorated buildings below the prison.

We had fun with our Conlons. After they left for home I spent the remainder of that week and this past week with my daughter-in-law Dorothy, helping her with little Bruce. I lost myself in that happy mission. You can see how Bruce has changed since the picture in my last entry.

I am working on not requiring myself to be endlessly productive, but instead, giving myself permission to pace myself and be open to more spontaneous opportunities. I need relaxing, thinking and open time. It's there, I've decided. So I'm going to teach myself to grab it. Here's to spontaneity!

Here Comes Bruce

Son Reed and his wife Dorothy decided years ago that they were finished having children, after bringing 5 lovely ones into the world. Then their only daughter, Carmen, died in 2009. Since that time they have softened to the idea of another baby. They began to feel that it would be a blessing to have another little one to, perhaps, provide some kind of comfort and certainly a loving distraction from their heartache. They hoped for a girl. In due time, Dorothy became pregnant. To their disappointment, all signs pointed to another boy. She went into labor this past Saturday, January 15th and delivered....a boy, just like the sonogram said. He is a big (almost 10 pounds), healthy, masculine little boy.

I arrived at the hospital shortly after his birth. Little Bruce Theodore Galbraith lay peacefully on his other grandma's lap. Dorothy looked lovely and peaceful. Reed was soft and tender as he embraced and welcomed me in. It was a lovely time. There is a special spirit that comes with a new baby. We all felt the sacredness of that time with this new little boy. He is a boy, but I believe that he brings special gifts with him. His masculine little self will yet be a sweet comfort to his parents, I think. How blessed are we to welcome yet another little one who is beautiful, whole and bright. It is the greatest of heavenly gifts.

Reed is already in love with his new little son. Dorothy is also very happy. So, with pleasure, I announce the arrival of our 20th grandchild, Bruce Theodore Galbraith.

A Symptomatic Woman

I awoke the other night feeling like a weight was on my chest. It was accompanied by a feeling that something was stuck in my esophagus. Hum. It came into my mind that these things could be a symptom of heart problems. That stressed me a little so I got up, took a couple of deep breaths, got a drink and waited for it to go away. It did.

It seemed wise to have it checked out so I went to see my doctor this past week. She took an EKG and all looks well with my heart. So I guess it is stress. Why should a woman with an empty nest and no discernible pressures feel pressured? All I can say is that I must make it myself. Isn't it interesting what we do to ourselves? For no justifiable reason I feel the need to be absolutely productive every minute of my day. What am I thinking? Looking at it rationally, this is crazy thinking. Yet it seems to be a part of my nature that overtakes me without my consent. Obviously I need to work on this.

So I began exercising. Again. We'll see where it takes me. Is it possible that a woman of my inclination can actually relax without guilt? I'm determined to try it out and see. With three months of gifted Netflix movies ahead of me, I think I'll try watching a few movies and tie my self down so that I don't couple it with projects.

On the lighter side, here is a photo of grandchildren Isaiah and Allegra. I am giving a presentation on writing life stories in a couple of weeks, so I asked the kids to pose reading Daddy's book and looking ENTHUSIASTIC about it. So here they are with their amazed looks. I'm using this picture in my presentation to convince the class that our kids really will enjoy reading about us some day.

Enduring

Have you ever felt so weary that sleep escapes you? I'm feeling that on this January Sunday. The holidays have rushed by so fast that I've lost track of the days. They were fun but over so quickly! Our kids came over for New Year's Eve and January family birthday celebrations. That includes mine! I love the informality of New Years celebrations. I didn't cook; just assigned food to the kids. I didn't decorate, just let things stand as they were. We rented a jumping house for the kids again and they jumped all day. So, it was a fun and relaxing time. We even stayed up to celebrate the new year with some energy and enthusiasm.

But I am oh, so weary. Not that it stops me from dreaming once again of what I hope to accomplish this coming year. I often wonder what is practical to hope for. I have big plans, but wonder if I measure the worth of my days too much by accomplishment. Perhaps I should think more of meditating moments and plan for more fun. The trouble is, my tendencies toward the unending pursuit of accomplishment is reinforced by a husband who is even more unrelenting in that area. Still, I have hopes of modifying my ways.

My Mom seems to be slowing down a bit. I am struck with thoughts lately of losing her. I believe I am more ready than ever for that eventuality, yet fear it as well. Her care increases in its demands, slowly but surely. I find that the challenge with it is not in caring or doing for her per se, but in enduring in the effort. There are times when I long to escape. But I won't. I'll hang in. I pray regularly to do it with pleasure. Mom deserves that.

We live in fog and dampness these days. There are growing complaints by many about the wetness of this winter. But I love it. When I awaken to the sound of rain, I feel happy inside. Water is life.

Top picture is our post New Year's Eve celebration with Layne in the background cleaning up. It's 1 AM but we are surprisingly lively. That changed the next day.

Bottom picture is granddaughter Rayne, on her way back to college at BYU Idaho. This is her last year!