We leave for Indiana early in the morning. I don’t really feel like we are leaving…. it was in the 60s here in SC today, don’t really want to leave. Our house is not cleaned, clothes still need packed, Al is hibernating upstairs as usual and we haven’t really talked much. Leaving until after New Yr’s!
Archive for the ‘Family’ Category
leaving for Indiana
December 22, 2010north dakota
November 28, 2010so yes, our youngest son took the job in North Dakota, one hour from the Canadian border. This is his “big adventure”, he is going to an oil rig town of 13,000 to be a news and sports reporter. Today is his longest driving day and they are having blowing winds and snow. Not good. We will hopefully keep in touch w/ him as he drives. If they get 2-3″ and not 12″ in the next 24-36 hrs., he may not have too much trouble. Meanwhile, I’m staying RIGHT HERE in the sunny south, where our heat is coming on at night but then it still warms up to high 60s- low 70s during the day.
Little Boy
November 22, 2010Little Boy
I am thinking of a little boy,
who did not talk until 3 years old,
got the award at summer camp for “boy sick most often,”
had ear infections so rampant,
a doctor inserted tubes to take them away,
which improved his hearing,
which allowed him to hear language,
and he began to speak;
I am thinking of an 8 year old,
stealing packs of baseball cards,
he and 3 buddies deciding to do this
— all together — at the SAME TIME,
We allowed the police to take him to the station,
Getting finger printed scared him so bad,
he refused to enter this store again,
I am thinking of a 12-year-old
confiding to me in secret,
face beaming with pride,
“Mom, I want you to know,
I quit smoking.”
We praised God when he graduated from high school.
Posing as his father, he called in sick so many times,
We made a deal with the school:
Only his mother could call in for him;
This child, bounced on his head in the locker room,
unconscious in the ambulance,
awoke on the way to the hospital,
where we met him at the door,
This child whose soccer team won regional
the last game of his senior year,
now keeps in touch with teammates,
his loyalty to school and friends unmatched,
Goes away to college and finds
he can wake himself up
with something called “an alarm clock“,
Graduates in May after I get my PhD,
This son, our youngest,
so stubborn, so headstrong,
outmatches his father in being opinionated,
manages to offend
half of those he ever meets,
The world is black or white to these two,
and there is no such thing as gray,
This son, to whom family means so much,
loves caring for his nephews,
watching football with his dad,
This son now finds a job,
1000 miles from the nearest relative.
We plan to stay in touch on facebook,
share lives by cell phone,
visit by train,
Somehow in the last 25 years,
This child became a man.
Thanksgiving and Christmases past
November 19, 2010This is a story of Thanksgivings past. The story of life with my parents has sharp dividing lines. The first part is a story of feeling safe, being sheltered from suffering, and living a life based in love. I grew up in upper middle class homes with 2 parents and 3 siblings. There was many a dinner party where my parents entertained friends. These were true friends, not just formal gatherings. My father played dixieland jazz, my sister and I would dance, my mother would serve food and martinis, and my father would sit around enjoying himself, sharing with friends and being with his family. The dividing line is his early death at the age of 50, after which our mother went into a tailspin for a while, was dropped from the elite social circle that was connected to my father’s position at the university, and alcohol became her main companion. She later reformed, recovered, and never went back to her old companion, which was helpful in our having any relationship at all. These periods in my life are: before age 16, age 16 to 32, and then life after age 32 until her passing 22 years later. The following is a segment from before age 16, recalling “Thanksgiving and Christmases past”.
My parents each trained me well and gave me certain lessons in life. Our holidays were filled with delicious home cooked meals, and much spirit. We always made a big deal about decorating the Christmas tree. It was an event we looked forward to. My mother always read us “The night before Christmas” on — the night before Christmas. 🙂 My mother took us to church regularly, usually United Methodist or Presbyterian, depending on where we lived. She grew up in the Dutch Reformed Church. My father was a strong Baptist in his young adulthood and even sang in the church with his parents and some other relatives. But as he aged, he became more and more disenchanted with organized religion. He would go about twice a year, to please my mom. My father taught me a love for education, dedication to his students, a love for life, a commitment to contributing to the advancement of life on earth.
Our Christmas holidays were unfortunately, centered around gifts, and we received many. But they were happy times.
I used to go to church when none of the rest of my family would go with me. I would also go to a chapel which was to be open for prayers at any time. I always love sitting in a church and looking up at the stained glass windows. In high school, I was president of my church youth group for about 2 years. We organized a “coffee house” for youth, held every Friday night, where we had snacks and dancing. We also met every Wed. night. At a slightly younger age I attended a Presbyterian youth group called “Chi-Ro” where we gathered every Saturday to make crafts together. So my youth is filled with memories of the church as a place to go, where we liked to go. I also have wonderful memories of Christmas caroling, the old fashioned way, where we actually walked around singing carols at people’s houses. We never knew if they would come to the door and acknowledge us, but the joy was in the singing. It was always cold. We usually gathered together at the end for hot chocolate.
My father died when I had just turned 16, in August. That December, I organized a Christmas caroling group all by myself, and we went around the neighborhood. I remember there was a dog that followed us and would start howling every time we started singing! It was as if he wanted to be a part of the singing. When we got done that year, I returned home to find some of my relatives from Indiana had driven out to Pennsylvania to spend the holidays with us, as a surprise, since it was the first Christmas without my father.
The next few years were more difficult, but I wanted to write my pleasant memories of the holidays. At the end of her life, my mother found her faith once again, and always had a Bible and certain little booklets from a women’s Bible group she would keep in her living room and read from. She returned to her roots, the Dutch Reformed Church, now the Christian Reformed church, and found much solace there. Her faith was childlike and somewhat based in fear: Her best friend, who died before her, told her, “We won’t know each other Marti, We’ll be angels!” She had no concept of life as an angel except perhaps floating around on clouds and singing praises of God. It was a somewhat childlike faith. But she believed.
One of the strongest auditory memories of any Thanksgiving dinner was my grandfather’s voice reciting the Lord’s Prayer. He always said it the same: He bowed his head and devoutly recited it at a speed so fast you could hardly follow the words. It was a lower voice, a respectful, more formal pronunciation of words, but one he memorized and recited at a zooming speed, without stopping to think. This was a man who had to quit school at the 6th grade, in order to work to help support his family. At some point in his life, he memorized this entire prayer.
ages 12-15
September 26, 2010Went to a training program on how to run a junior youth program this weekend. Junior youth age is 12-15.
At one point during the weekend, it suddenly flashed over me just how skewed was my own history of that age, and just after that age. Age 12, 7th grade, we were still in Indiana. I attended a regular “junior high” or middle school which in those days was 7th-9th grades. High school was 10th-12th.
Age 13, we moved to Germantown, PA. My school suddenly was 50% black and I rode a train to school. The main shock though, was the school itself. It was run like a home for juvenile delinquents. We were not allowed to talk in the hallways, had to go to our next classes in a silent file, were not allowed to talk at lunch! I was miserable. Time on the playground, where there was no equipment and nothing to do, kids spent fighting and girls walked around together. A few played hop scotch with rocks and sticks. We rode a bus to another school for “shop” and “home ec”. I sucked at home ec. A sewing machine might as well have been some object from outer space, I couldn’t figure it out. I was elected President of my class and quit when teachers expected ME to discipline MY CLASSMATES as president. Ridiculous. I never hated school so much. We moved the following summer, to put us in a different school system, thank God. Education was important to my parents, and I remember the day my dad called my teacher and told her off.
Age 14. 9th grade. Things went pretty well. 10th grade, my first date, age 15, I had a few friends. Then 2 weeks after my 16th birthday, my father died of a massive heart attack. Changed my life forever, changed all our lives. My mother became an alcoholic and things were never, ever the same.
Suffice it to say, my progression from one stage to the next as a junior youth, and then youth, was totally whacko skewed. Some of the things they talked about in our training I could not relate to. Other things, like all the forces hitting at our youth from all directions, I could understand. Each of us has our challenges, our tragedies, our hurtful things that happen to us. I think I was a particularly unprepared youth for what happened to me. I was sitting there thinking about the age of 15 being the beginning of the age of maturity. I feel like I only matured at around age . . . 45-50. And I wonder how few youth of age 18 actually made it to that age without a major tragedy in their lives.
the sound of football
September 11, 2010I like the sound of football. For most of the games, I don’t care who wins. I just like to hear the sound of the game.
When I was a child, the sound of football meant my dad was home. It meant family time and my dad was not working. It usually meant the adults would be laying around on couches, relaxing, talking, watching tv and taking naps. That is important to a child. It meant no school, and a big family dinner sometime that day. I would usually be playing in my room, making up games, going outside to see who was in the neighborhood, riding my bike or roller skating a bit, then coming inside again to hang out with the adults. As a little girl, I was not expected to watch or enjoy the game. But any time I wanted, I could hang out in the game room, listen to their voices, and hear the sound of the game.
Purdue football games are even more nostalgic. I’ve heard Purdue football since I was born, sometimes at the game itself. Today, hearing and watching Purdue football takes me back to my home town. It is where I am from, it is who I am, no matter where I live now. It is good to know where you are from. It gives you a sense of belonging, of identity. I am a Hoosier, but I am not IU, I’m a Boilermaker. West Lafayette has a certain identity, very different from Bloomington. Purdue is the enginnering school, IU is the artsy-fartsy community. Purdue is northwest Indiana, closer to Chicago; IU is southern Indiana, closer to Kentucky. Plains and cornfields vs. hilly southern Indiana. Even today, I wear more black and gold than anything else.
Labor Day weekend
September 6, 2010Someone I know has this for her signature file:
“America’s Labor Unions: the folks who brought you the weekend”
Thank you for that! I appreciate it. Especially 3 day ones like this one.
Leah, Jean, Zakiah and Naylah all weekend. We had great fun. Zakiah was a true delight. Naylah was so sweet and fun. We all had a good time and didn’t spend much money at all. We cooked at home, never went out to a restaurant, and didn’t even have a grill. Dishes were being washed continually. Leah & Jean got to go out together Sat. night & I watched Naylah. She took the warmed bottle just fine! Other times over the weekend it wasn’t so easy. She is cooing and smiling.
We went swimming in the pool, where the water has now turned cold. But it was still sparkling clean and great fun. Hardly anyone was in it until today, when we didn’t go. The days are piping hot, up to 9o degrees and the hot sun burns into your skin, but the nights are now getting down into the 60s, so we wake up slightly chilly.
Took walks around the pond, had 2 other friends over Sun. morning & they talked about being in Africa & practiced Swahili. Shared late breakfast/early lunch.
They left Sun. night but their car broke down about 45 mins. away from here. It’s incredible what then happened. They called, waited until Al got there & was looking at the battery, then BOOM!! A car wreck happened right next to where they were. Al pulled a car door off to get some people out of one car, and directed traffic. Jean called 911. As Leah said, “Our car broke down so we could be here to help these people.” In any case, they returned here, then Jean, Levin AND AL went back AGAIN to start their car to get it back here that night. The gas station they parked in was closed, & there was a WHOLE LOTTA TRAFFIC going in and out of the lot, in the form of illegal activity. They needed to get the car out of there, and the three of them needed to go retrieve it. As Al said, “3 men will not get attacked. Two could get attacked.” I was so glad when they were all done and home at 3am. Didn’t sleep much that night.
Monday we were lucky enough to find a place open to get an alternator replaced. They left about 5pm tonight & are finally home. Leah was worried about her class preparation this week. (Me too! I was going to work on it all day today.) But it was fun to have them return. Zakiah slept one more night on blankets at the end of our bed. It was such a nice time together.
Took Zakiah to the Chapin local parade today, which is small town memories. He got his face painte
d. All the boy scout troops and local businesses march in a parade and throw candy to the crowd…. Then Zakiah picked out boiled peanuts & went on 2 rides, as well as got a free balloon.
Toys for the weekend at Grandma’s house included:
a small rocket that launches with air through a cardboard tube, coloring book and crayons, numerous balloons, a “find it” tube with small things in it besides beads, various other little things. I keep an assortment of toys around for visits like these.
end of summer
August 6, 2010It is still very hot, to the tune of 100 degrees and heat advisories. But there is a different “mood” entering the air. Kids are bored with swimming, not as excited about going to the pond to fish. Families are gone, taking their last trips to wherever. Summer camps are over. Stores are filled with long-sleeved shirts and Fall clothes. Student furniture is all over Wal-mart on sale. Toads and tree frogs are still singing at night, but not quite as loud.
My son and daughter-in-law are here the rest of this week, then all family trips and visiting will be over and I will be in work mode. As of Monday, I will be in my office daily. But last night we had 2 big games of Scrabble, the last one I almost won, with a new game that rotates the board and stores your pieces better. And TODAY, a trip to a chiropractor for my son whose back has been out for a week, and then a drive to CHARLESTON and the ocean. People in Wisconsin don’t get to see that big body of water with a weekend drive. So we are going. Then tomorrow morning, a drive back to our daughter’s in Raleigh, from where our son & wife will get on a plane the next morning to fly home. One more visit w/ Naylah, baby girl born this summer, newest member of our family, and Zakiah, big brother, at our daughter’s & son-in-law’s. That will truly complete the circle for this summer.
Indiana Baha’i summer school
August 3, 2010a little poem dedicated to:
Indiana Baha’i Summer School
Lovers of His Light
from whichever vessel It appears,
We are many lamps,
different shades of brilliance,
some farther, some nearer,
we circle around the Center,
intermingle, interact,
sing praises, dance, talk, teach,
swim, play, reflect, learn,
and most of all,
We love one another,
Come in, come in,
Stay with us awhile,
Where else can one go
but to the Land of His Beloved?
Praise God
from Whom all blessings flow!
frantically back home in SC
August 2, 2010I don’t want to say I’m frantic. That will be when school actually starts. But since getting back last night at 1am, reading briefly thru my mail (slow mail and e-mail), I’ve had 2-3 big things to take care of already, at my college. I plan to see my son and daughter-in-law the end of this week, who are visiting from Wisconsin, so it should be an interesting week. The good news is, I have a new loaner laptop, so I can actually WORK and read my own mail on my own computer again… (My former laptop got stolen in Indiana.)
From traveling the past 2 mos., I have many thoughts, but that will have to wait until later.
It was good to see my old Indiana friends again at summer school. Hard to describe the grounding it gives you to see people you’ve known & loved for 25 years. We are all loving our grandkids now…
I am excited & ready to greet students and be into all the activity of a Fall semester. I’m just not ready yet to present and teach….
Doctor Grandma 