Fruitcake

I am working on submitting my will to God's. I am working on being obedient. I am trying to do what's right and be good and be unselfish and give service. Whenever the Christmas season rolls around I feel like I need to make penance of some sort for an ancient act of revenge and retribution. And what is the dirty little deed I carried out so long ago?

When I was in Kindergarten my best friend told me the "truth" about Santa Claus. I couldn't believe her. I couldn't forgive her. That memory is still so very clear and burned into my mind. And I knew at that point I would get her back. I didn't know how or when but I knew, someday, some way, I would return the favor.

And I did. The next year, after a little conversation which my mother initiated and to which I was sworn great secrecy, I promptly told my friend, standing there at the corner of Fairmount and Ashbury Avenues in El Cerrito, CA, about how babies were made.

And I have felt moderately guilty ever since that I was such a cruel force in collapsing her world, as she knew it, just as she had destroyed mine the year before. I suspect almost 55 years later she never gives this a single thought. But I am still tortured by it.

So I try to be good and give to the poor and feed the hungry and clothe the naked and shelter the homeless.

And then I take my grandson to the mall to see Santa Claus. Just to reassure myself that, really, I was right all along, and my friend was, well, just plain nuts!

I'm feeling better, once again.

Celebrations

Two celebrations with two times the fun for a boy turning two and a Thanksgiving feast that followed the next day. Welcome to my photo gallery of two days of merriment.

Happy Birthday, Sawyer!!! We're so glad that you're TWO!

Lucky boy to wrap up nice and warm in a towel from Aunt Britty

After starting the party at Sawyer's house, we moved on to Nannie Joy's for dinner and more presents that night.

Jimmy Storey, Holly & Masa arrived for the dinner party and the Thanksgiving weekend, along with the birthday boy, Nannie Joy, Chelsea & Jim F.

Then Nannie Joy brought out the big guns!

Sawyer played with cousin, Jake's, Geo Trax last summer. We knew it'd be a hit!

Ooooooh!

A quick few hours sleep, then on to Thanksgiving Day. Hooray!

The Munns have arrived and we're just about ready

This didn't start out to be the little kids table but turned out that way

Jay and his granddaughter, Samantha

The food was delicious if I do say so myself

The best place for Ian to be after so much food--running around the yard.

Morgan, Melanie, and Maddie Munns

My sister, Cheryl, and me

Holly chillaxin'

Jim, the Pied Piper

Second cousins Samantha and Sawyer, and no, I did not give her the Barq's

20 for dinner and everyone left the table fat and sassy

Jeremy, uncle and nephew extraordinaire, including photographer of some of these pictures

Nothing brings such joy to us as Jay's piano playing

"Upside Down Boy" just before the Hokey Pokey

Dad and Mom enjoying Jay's after dinner music

Aren't teenagers just truly amazing?

The only thing that would have made the day more perfect is if we had just a few more people, like Eli, Carrie, Brittany, Jordan, Annie, Jake & Juliette! Maybe next year?

I AM OLD

I am old. I am very very old. 60 years have passed since I was born, and soon it will be 61 years. I don’t feel old. I don’t look old while glancing in a mirror when I don’t have my contacts in and it’s not a magnifying mirror and I stand about 6 feet away from it. But so much has changed since I was born when I compare it with my grandson, Sawyer’s, life that I have finally figured out that I am old.

A few weeks ago Sawyer and I flew to Minnesota to visit Brittany, Jordan, and my other 3 grandchildren. Sawyer is a seasoned flyer having crisscrossed the United States many times over the past 2 years of his short little life. However, due to the great example of Brittany when she flies with her kids, I decided to buy a portable DVD player so that Sawyer could watch Tigger and Pooh and Their Friends, Too, and maybe a Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and perhaps one Little Einsteins. Four hours on a plane w/ a toddler who can still fly free so he sits on my lap can be a bit of a challenge, and Sawyer has demonstrated time and time again that he doesn’t sleep on a plane until the final 30 minutes of the flight, no matter whether it’s a 1 hour flight or 6 hours. I bought him his own little headset, which he thought was sort of interesting at first, but decided he liked it better off than on which means he watched the movies without sound, and was just as entertained.




And it got me thinking about the first movies I ever saw. They didn’t have sound either. No, I’m not describing “pre-talkies”. But sometime between my age of 4 and 7 my family lived in a house that was up the hill and about a mile from the local drive-in theatre. 600 Clayton Avenue, El Cerrito, CA, was a 2-bedroom, 1-bath white-siding house on the corner of Clayton and Lincoln Avenues. It was and still is forever referred to as “the corner house”. Occasionally, on warm summer evenings somewhere around dusk, my older sister, Cheryl, and I and a few of the neighbor kids would climb up on the roof of our house and perch ourselves ever so carefully on the slanted side of the roof that faced the El Cerrito Drive-In.


We could see the screen and we could see movement on the screen and sometimes we thought we could actually tell what was going on. Of course we couldn’t hear anything and I suppose we never had any idea what the movie was about. But we thought we were the neatest kids on the block to be able to see the movies from our own home. (To this day I have no idea where our parents were or how we were allowed to climb up there at such a young age. Then again, maybe we weren’t allowed. Maybe that’s why we scrambled down lickety-split when we heard them call us.) I’m pretty sure the first movie I ever saw in an actual movie theatre was The Wizard of Oz when I was 5. It scared me then and frankly, still scares me now.

My point being: I watched my first movies at 4 years of age from the roof of my house. Two-year old Sawyer watches his movies, when he’s not in front of our television, on a portable DVD player as he flies across the United States.

I am old. I am very very old.

By the Sea

When the folks moved down here on Labor Day I was excited for them to get to the beach. I figured anyone who had spent the last year in an assisted living facility needed to sit near the ocean to recover and restore one's soul. However, w/ Mom's broken shoulder and Dad's bout in the hospital we didn't quite get there right away.

I live about 5 miles from the Pacific Ocean so we did initially take a few drives up the PCH and I'd say, "Hey, look, Mom and Dad, over there--over there-over there--on your left--no your left--no, your other left--there's the ocean!" That's generally what our conversations are like. Then me again, "Isn't it beautiful?" "Yes", they would say, as I'd go zooming by. (Sort of reminding me of the first time I put real estate clients in my car, back in 1984, to show them houses; I was so nervous and drove so fast I was literally slamming on the brakes as I sped past a listing we were supposed to see. I soon learned to write DRIVE SLOW on a piece of paper I kept tucked under my leg so that my backseat customers weren't turning green and looking for a barf bag in the back seat. But that was in a distant galaxy a long long time ago.)

Today, after 3 days of rain, our world-famous climate was back to "gorgeous, wish you were here" and with Mom waking up grouchy I said, "Hey, everyone (Mom still thinks she lives with lots of people) let's go to the beach for a little while". So we jumped in the car (this means dad slowly moved his walker toward the garage and I slowly helped mom into the front seat, buckled up seat belts, put the walker in the trunk)--okay, 15 minutes later, off we went to Aliso Creek Beach. It's a perfect place for the folks as the benches are just a few minutes from the parking lot.

Mom and Dad enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the white-tipped waves crashing onto the shore. Dad was happy to remain sitting, but I encouraged Mom to roll up her pants and go play in the water and she was happy to oblige. Mom is pretty frail and the waves are pretty powerful at this beach but we managed to not fall over. I was supporting her like I was cemented into the ground with one of my arms wrapped around her waist and my other one holding onto her good arm. There was only one time when I got a little nervous. But, hey, my brother, Bill, dropped Mom while carrying her down a steep descent at Lake Tahoe a few years back, so I figured, what's the worse that could happen? We'd both get tumbled around and drenched but I'd save her and make sure she didn't get any water in her ears.or drift out to sea. I tried not to visualize that scene.

She laughed with glee and terror and let out lots of "Oh, my's!" We followed a few seagulls. She picked up some small sticks. Dad took a catnap. When we walked back to the bench with our pants quite wet above where we'd rolled them up, I wiped the sand out of mom's toes. As I took the picture below I told Mom to wave. She got that part figured out but couldn't hear me say "Smile!" so when I later showed her the picture she asked me if she looked grouchy. I said, "No, I think you just look like you're trying to figure out how you got so wet".

My parents started their married life near the ocean. I think it's appropriate that they finish their last few years together near it.

It will forever bug me that we have these fun times together and Mom doesn't remember them by the time we get to the car. I'm committed to remembering for all of us.

In the Land of Yudacudahey

Hip hip hooray! Both parents are taking a nap at the same time, Sawyer is with his mommy, and I have some quiet time to myself (if you don’t count the snoring coming from my folks’ room via the baby monitor next to me in the upstairs gameroom). I don’t know whether to sleep myself, watch TV, unpack or update my blog. Yes, I do, I’m updating.

When we made the decision to have Mom and Dad move down here to live with me it took awhile to put everything in place. I had to find a home that could accommodate all 3 of us, that was elder-friendly ie, wide enough for walkers and potential wheelchairs, had multiple living spaces and enough bedrooms and bathrooms for all of us and any who could come and visit. I needed a decent fenced backyard and garden and flooring that was conducive to wheels and spills. I found all that and much more (ie, a spa w/ great privacy – yay for clothing optional) in our latest home. It took several trips from my self-storage unit in L.A. w/ the great assistance of my brother, John, and his wife Gayle, a truckload from my former condo, and a truckload from my folks assisted living place in Northern California. Four days before the move, Mom fell and broke her left shoulder, which was especially tough since she’s left-handed and her right shoulder was already a problem. And then two days after they arrived, Dad started throwing up for 36 hours and eventually spent a week at Mission Hospital Laguna Beach. He wasn’t too keen on being in the ICU but I was amazed at one of the best views from his room of the Pacific Ocean I’ve ever seen. The sunsets were fantastic. Too bad he couldn’t enjoy it more. However, he was very stoical and a trooper and recovered very well.

But now, a month has passed and we’re all getting back to normal, whatever that is. Mom’s dementia is interesting, hilarious, sad, creative, and ranges from craziness to sanity. I love it when she checks back in and I feel like I’ve just about got my mom back. But I also enjoy the journey she’s on. I love listening to her sincere and humble prayers. I love her cheerful and upbeat attitude. I laugh along with her when she realizes that the words she just said don’t make any sense. For instance, the other night I offered her some chapstick for her chapped lips. She had a hard time hearing me and thought I offered her “cat butt”. I said, “Sure, Mom, here’s some cat butt for your lips!” We both had a good time laughing over that one. One night at dinner she asked my dad where we lived. “Are we in Europe?” “No,” we both replied. “Are we in America?” “Yes,” I said, “We’re in California. Where did you think we lived?” I asked her. She looked at me and answered, “I don’t know. I thought maybe we lived in Yudacudahey.” “Yudacudahey? Where’s that?” I asked her. We both started laughing when she responded, “Oh, I don’t know. I just thought it sounded like a nice place.”

And it is. So welcome to our world. I hope we all get to stay here for awhile.

The folks truck loaded up by brother, John. Good thing they're bringing Mom's Diet Coke

The backyard of our home

Dad's million dollar view at Mission Laguna Beach

Just taking it all in stride during one of the hospital visits

Mom with her shoulder in a sling and brother, John

My sisters, Marlene and Sandy, helped with the drive down and niece, Mackenna, had a quick visit, too.

It's a good thing when checking on your folks in the morning and they're holding hands

Capturing the innocence of simplicity and joy

In Memoriam D.L.S.

“...because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets: Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.” (Ecclesiastes 12:5-7)

Last weekend I attended the memorial service for Lynn Storey, the father of my daughter, Brittany, and the adoptive father of my children, Eli and Chelsea. He was diagnosed with prostate cancer in 1993; we were divorced about 6 months later after 14 ½ years of marriage. He soon was married to another woman which later ended in divorce. His battle with cancer, although intermittently relieved by remission was long and painful. There were many times when we all wondered how long he would have to suffer and for what purpose.

We now know the answer to the first question—17 years. I don’t know if we’ll ever know all the answers to the second, however this is what I observed. An attractive athletic man of many interests and a zest for life but also plagued with bouts of discouragement and self-doubt led a life filled with portions of love, marriages, children, divorces, jobs, entrepreneurships, successes, failures, formal education, self-education, exploration, reclusiveness, service, selfishness, compassion, openness, and introspection—pretty much like all of us in one way or another. He had periods of estrangement from family members and periods of reunions. I’ve seen him kick dogs and be cruel to animals and I’ve seen him love dogs and cats and provide good homes for them. I’ve seen him obsess over his career and desire to climb to the top, and I’ve seen him learn to accept job losses and pave a pathway of endurance. I’ve seen his anger and mean-spiritedness and I’ve seen his inner man embrace the blessings and opportunities that God has graced him with and his ultimate refining as he learned to really love the Lord, his children, his family, and his life. He learned to express gratitude for the things that matter most. Each of his 5 children and I were able to meet with him individually prior to his death and express love and concern and caring. His two oldest children, Holly and Jim, either lived with him or nearby and were able to care for him in his last few years of poor health. We all had closure in a peaceful and healthy way. When the doctors told him there was nothing more they could do for him and he was assigned to a nursing home we knew he wouldn’t linger here much longer. And in fact, he found his appointed time to return to Heavenly Father only 2 weeks later. We’re all grateful, Lynn included, that he didn’t need to stay there very long.

I’m in the process of moving into another house. I’m unpacking way too many boxes that have been in storage for 2 years. I’m unloading photograph albums and looking inside and seeing pictures of those years I spent with Lynn Storey between 1978 and 1993. Although I’d seen him occasionally since those years, these were the ones that were memorialized with photographs and memorabilia. I see the picture of Lake Camanche and his orange and yellow Hobie Cat sailboat. I see the picture of Eli and Jimmy, young boys in sleeping bags in the back of an old station wagon with a bumper sticker on the fender that says “Happiness is Family Home Evening”. I see our wedding announcement, 4 young hopeful children in a library announcing the “merger” of their parents. I see Brittany sitting in a highchair. I see Chelsea graduating from pre-school. I see Holly dressed for Prom. I see pictures of our homes in San Pablo, Benicia, New Jersey, Georgia, Danville, Chicago, and Texas. Some of these pictures are houses under construction. Some are of homes we plan to remodel or redecorate. I see pictures of our cars: two Pontiacs, a Honda, a BMW, and a Mazda SUV. I see pictures of vacations and holidays, birthdays and celebrations. And then the photographs in the albums stop and I find them uncatalogued in small boxes. Just like Lynn Storey’s mortal life, the collection of albums has ended.

Brittany, Chelsea, Eli, Lynn, Joyce--Wheaton, IL--Christmas, 1990

D. Lynn Storey--Wheaton, IL--Summer 1990

But our memory of Lynn Storey remains and his essence is strong. While I’m unpacking in Laguna Niguel, 4 of his children are sorting through his belongings in San Pablo. Although an intruding thief has taken some of Lynn’s things the week before, the children are experiencing their history again just like I am, but in a different light and in a different frame of reference, through their father’s eyes. They read his journals. They touch his ties hanging on the door. They discuss what to do with his photography equipment. Brittany calls me and tells me that she’s in the house alone and she doesn’t know what to do with all the medicine. “There’s medication everywhere, Mom, all over the house, in every room”. Lingering evidence of a sick and dying man. It’s painful to experience for his youngest child, the union of our marriage. “But I feel privileged that I get to go through his things and help box them up.”

We all feel privileged that we had time in this life with him, a mortal man striving for immortality.

“…Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good or whether it be evil.” (Ecclesiastes 12:13-14)

The Green Reaper

Remember a few months back when I wrote about Farmer Jordan and his labor of love with the garden preparation so the family could rally around and plant, sow, reap and harvest together?

Well, way to go Jordan and Brittany and Annie and Jake! You are now all officially little red hens and I am very proud of you.

Take a look at this!!!

Mini Ha Has and Great Big Smiles

Several years ago my book group in TX decided to read Longfellow's "The Song of Hiawatha" thanks to Jennifer Kay's suggestion. Although this part of the poem starts in chapter 3 it seems to be the one we all know:

By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis.
Dark behind it rose the forest,
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
Rose the firs with cones upon them;
Bright before it beat the water,
Beat the clear and sunny water,
Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.

Little Hiawatha grows up and falls in love with the lovely Minnehaha. During my vacation to Minnesota a few weeks ago Brittany and I took her kids over to Minnehaha Falls. It was beautiful to see. I didn't see this statue of Hiawatha and Minnehaha but it's apparently nearby. I did, however see all of us having a wonderful time playing in the the little pond farther down from the falls.

Nannie Joy with Juliette, Annie, and Jake

Brittany and Baby Jewels

This looks easy but it was actually quite slippery

They made it to safety

Previously on this day of adventure we stopped by Lake Calhoun in Minneapolis. They just happened to have a sand "castle" contest the day before. We took pictures of our favorite sculptures and did a little more wading and tree climbing.

Can you tell what this is?

Annie's favorite

This one's just kind of interesting

Jake's favorite

Juliette was happy with all of them

my favorite

Isn't this what summer's all about?

In getting from point A to point B we also made 2 great discoveries: 1) a Batman bench next to a liquor store which required an immediate slam on the brakes by the driver (me) for Jakey since I knew he'd want his picture taken on it and 2) the world's best corn stand. We didn't know it had the world's best corn but Brittany wanted some for dinner and we all agreed it really was the best corn on the cob we'd ever had.

Now for a little trivia. At Indian Art Camp where Annie and Jake made Indian purses we learned that the Dakota Tribe is known as the Dakotas east of the Mississippi River and the Lakotas west of the Mississippi River (I like to type it all the way out so I can say M I crooked letter crooked letter I crooked letter crooked letter I humpback humpback I). However, they personally don't like to be called either. They prefer Sioux. We also learned when we were at the Falls that when President Johnson and Senator Humphrey visited there in 1964, Minneapolis was in a drought, so the city had to open up many fire hydrants upstream and out of sight to feed water to the creek. I think that's hilarious.

As we drove around I found myself singing (to myself), "From the land of sky blue waters, comes the beer refreshing, Hamms the beer refreshing, Hamms". Talk about a successful advertising campaign. Fifty years later and I'm still thinking of Hamms Beer when I think of the land of 10,000 lakes. I learned that "minisota" is a Dakota, or should I more appropriately say Sioux word that means "water that reflects the sky". I also learned that Minnesota has more shoreline than California, Florida, and Hawaii combined.

I like Minnesota. I like where Jordan and Brittany live, just 20 minutes outside St. Paul. (Apparently, everything is just 20 minutes somewhere.) There is very little traffic and it's easy to get around. I was there in November and January and it wasn't that cold. But then, of course, it was considered a mild winter. They say the summers make the whole state worth it. I think I agree.