Spanish Fork Bank Breakdown

In the fall of 1975 my family was in the process of moving from Heber City, Utah to Spanish Fork, Utah. My dad had been transferred to the Spanish Fork branch of First Security Bank and he and my mom had decided to build a new house a few blocks away from the bank after failing to find a home in the area that they wanted to purchase. When it came time for school to start my brother was a freshman at BYU and I was a junior in high school. It was determined that even though our house possibly wouldn't be completed until the start of 1976, I should begin the school year at Spanish Fork High School. This was not a very popular decision with me. I was still technically living in Heber, where all of my friends were, but spent most of my days in Spanish Fork, where I knew no one and I didn't like it.

Each morning we would arise early and my dad, my brother and I would head down Provo Canyon. My brother was dropped off at BYU and then my dad and I would continue on to Spanish Fork where he would deposit me at the High School before going on to the bank. I usually rode in the back seat of the car where it was easy to go back to sleep until we arrived in SF. I can still vividly remember the sound of the tires crossing over the cattle guard at the foot of the Spanish Fork freeway exit. That dreaded noise indicated that it was time to sit up and face a new day of anonymity at my new school when all I wanted to do was continue sleeping or go back home. When the school day finally ended I would walk the 2 blocks to the bank where I would check in with my dad, if he wasn't helping a customer, and then I would take up residence in the employee lounge in the basement of the bank until 5:30 or 6:00 PM when my dad could leave work.

As this daily schedule continued I began to feel that the bank was my home away from home. There were frequently treats on the lounge table that I could indulge in and always a pot of coffee percolating on the counter. I have never drunk coffee in my life, but that smell seemed very comforting to me for some reason, and made the little space seem almost homey. As I would sit and do my homework or read a book, the bank employees would wander in and out and ask me about school or my day. There were several women who were especially kind to me and I began to look forward to my visits with them. As I entered the bank in the afternoon I could always count on being greeted warmly by someone as I passed through on my way to the stairs. The bank started to become a place where I felt like I belonged, while I often spent the rest of the day trying to figure out where I fit in. I would still have preferred to be a Wasatch Wasp, but my time at the bank made the thought of becoming a Spanish Fork Don a little less painful.

At the end of December my family finally moved from Heber, where we had sold our home, and took up temporary residence in Payson, Utah with my Grandpa since our house still wasn't finished. Now that we actually lived in Utah County, my days at the bank became fewer and further apart since my mom or my brother could usually pick me up as soon as school got out. Then in February of 1976 we finally became official Spanish Fork residents and my afternoons at the bank became a thing of the past. However, every time I visited the bank, I still felt like I was welcomed as a member of the family and I continued to feel like this was a place where I belonged.

Fast forward 35 years - I haven't lived in Spanish Fork for close to 30 years, my dad hasn't been the manager of the First Security Bank there for more than 25 years, and it has probably been at least 15 years since I have actually been inside what is now the Wells Fargo Bank at 99 North Main Street in Spanish Fork. I have promised my sister that I will stop there on my way to Idaho and sign some papers that need to be signed in order to stop my dad's retirement checks that my mom has been receiving each month. The person I need to talk to is helping another customer and so I take a seat and wait for my turn.

The bank has been remodeled several times since the months that I felt like I practically lived here. The bathroom isn't where it belongs and the back stairs to the basement have disappeared. All of the higher management desks are now surrounded by clear plastic sound walls that present a somewhat stand offish attitude and all of the tellers behind the counter look like they could be my sons. I am treated cordially and with respect, but no one is welcoming me home as their long lost family member. As I sit with my back to the large bank vault, that is still right where it is suppose to be, and watch the familiar wooden gate, protecting the front staircase, swing back and forth behind an employee on his way to the basement break room, I am hit by a wave of nostalgia and homesickness that takes me by surprise.
I miss my dad.
I miss my mom.
I miss my friends at the bank.
I miss the feeling of belonging that I use to feel in this building.
I even miss those long ago days as a Spanish Fork Don that ended up being much better than I could have imagined during the final months of 1975.

I feel the tears begin to well up in my eyes and hope that I can complete my transaction before I have a complete breakdown. Thankfully, it is soon my turn to be helped and I maintain my composure until I walk out the back door, which isn't suppose to be there by the way, and into the parking lot. The youngest daughter seems to be OK with the fact that I feel the need to cry from Spanish Fork to Bountiful and since she is the one driving it doesn't matter that I can't see anything anyway.

Today I am thankful for

a daughter that is willing to stop and shop the sales with me.
a daughter that makes hotel reservations and knows how to order pizza.
extra McDonalds napkins.

Homeless

Today my mom offically moved into an assisted living facility. It is a really nice place with beautiful private apartments, delicious meals served three times a day, and lots of fun activites to keep her entertained. When I took the tour with her back in July I was ready to move in too. It sounded that wonderful. She was ready for this change and is happy to have the move behind her.
I think this move was a good choice. It's lonely to live by yourself, especially when you have health challenges that make it difficult to get around and do some things for yourself. Mom was ready to have less responsiblility for a home and a yard. This change will also take some of the pressure off of the family members who live close to mom and have been helping her out for the last year. Her home is now much closer to my sister who has taken much of the responsiblility for mom upon herself. It is also closer to one brother and the same distance, in the opposite direction, from my other brother. This change will hopefully make life easier for everyone.
Mom is a very social person and I'm sure she will enjoy having other people around and things to look forward to each day. I am excited for her as she begins this new chapter in her life.
I am really happy about this change and feel good about it. I know it is the right decision for her and our family. Having said that and sincerely meaning it, I have been surprised at how emotional I have been about this move. I was thinking that perhaps this was because it happened quite quickly once she got all her ducks in a row (or got all her ducks moved to new homes as the case may be), but that still didn't really make sense to me. After much musing on this subject I finally realized where these tender feelings stem from. I have lived in Arizona for over 20 years and it pretty much feels like home to our family. My children don't really remember ever living anywhere else. My husband is an Arizona native and so this has always been home to him. However, there is a part of me that still considers Utah home. It was where I spent the first almost 30 years of my life. It was where I learned to talk like a hick. It holds a lot of wonderful memories, milestones and landmarks for me. Arizona is now where I live, and home in many ways, but I have always known that if I ever needed a Utah fix. If I ever needed to experience seasons. If I ever wanted to go back to my roots, my mom's house would always have an open door and was only a 10 to 12 hour drive away. One long day in a car and I could be "home". Apparently that knowledge has been a bigger comfort to me than I realized. Suddenly I feel homeless even though I am sitting in my own home.

Today I am thankful for

family members who worked hard to make mom's move as smooth as possible.
a dad who planned and provided for my mom's future.
wonderful memories of home.

One year ago today - Get a Clue!

Shh, It's a Secret.

Don't tell anyone, but this morning at daybreak I was in my mom's backyard taking pictures of the sunrise and playing in the sprinklers in my nightgown.

I bet you wish you had known so you could have joined me.

Sluffer

My boys think it is so funny when I refer to not going to school or work as sluffin' as in "Did you sluff math today?". Apparently this is a small town Utah, 70s term that shows I grew up in the back woods, way back when. I personally don't care what my boys think about my vernacular. I do however care if they sluff.
For 2 months now my oldest son has given me numerous reasons every morning why today would be a great day for him not to go to work. He still has 2 days of personal leave for this school year and they have been "burning a hole in his pocket"so to say. I am of the opinion that if he is suppose to be at work and he's not on his death bed or doesn't have 2 broken legs he should be there. Well, yesterday he informed me that today was the day he was not going to work. I pointed out all the reasons he should change his mind, but he didn't. I started thinking about him not going to work and why it bothers me when he doesn't go, but if my hubby were to decide to stay home every now and then I wouldn't be nearly as upset. With him it's more of a he has days off, he may as well use them kind of attitude. Is it because I don't feel as responsible for my husband's choices as I do my son's? After all I didn't raise the husband and teach him better than that. After much pondering I finally decided what the difference was. I have spent too many years in the school workplace, often as the person who had to fill in the holes left by other employees who for whatever reason (good or not so good) weren't there to fill the holes themselves. Now, I'm not saying my husband doesn't have an important job. I'm sure he does. However, if he misses a day of work the majority of his work will just wait to be done tomorrow. In a school setting, this isn't always the case. The kids still show up and still need to be taught and someone has to teach them. Recess and bus and lunchroom duties still need to be done and someone has to do them. When my children who work in education, especially the ones who are classified employees and don't usually get covered by a substitiute, sluff work I worry about who is going to have to pick up the slack. Despite my concerns, I guess my children deserve to use there leave just like anyone else and I should just let them use it and be happy.
With that said, I definitely enjoyed going to the temple with my oldest son today. When he sluffs at least he does something worthwhile with his time. His mother must have taught him something.

Draper Temple Open House

My sister was nice enough to take me to the Draper Utah Temple Openhouse on our way to the airport today. This was her second trip in two days, since she did the same thing for my other sister when she arrived in Salt Lake yesterday. In case I haven't said it before, "I love the temple." It was fun today to take the tour and see all the little touches that make this temple unique in it's own way. The best part of the visit though was watching as parents got down on their children's level and talked to them about what they liked and how they were feeling. It is a blessing for children to have the opportunity to be in the temple and experience the spirit that is present there. Hopefully they will remember their time spent there and have a strong desire to return when they are older.

Today I am thankful for

a sister to drive me to the airport.
another sister to come and stay with my mom.
a chance to have all the girls in the family together for a day.

Saturday Afternoon Ride

Today my oldest brother and his wife came to visit. We decided to go to the Polar Queen to have some of their yummy fish and chips.

They use to be even better when they served them with English chips, but they still fulfill that greasy fish and chip craving. I have never figured out why they think they need to serve them with toast. Not enough carbs and fat in the fish and the fries?
Then mom felt like she was up for a ride so we drove out through Spring Lake, Santaquin, and Goshen. My brother is pretty smart and he remembered how to get to the group of white birch trees out in the fields where the bald eagles roost.

I was surprised at how many of them were hanging out there.

We counted 7 in one tree. The trees were in a field a little way from the road, but the eagles had to know we were there and they were perfectly content to have us gawk at them.
Then we drove on through Elberta to the thriving metropolis of Eureka, nearly running over a group of deer in the process. Some of them looked before crossing the road and some of them didn't.

Of course, by the time I got the camera out and working they had gotten pretty far away. It was interesting how in this one spot there was hardly any snow, but the rest of the ride there was still a lot.
It was a really pretty ride. The snow had started to melt and then refrozen and the hills were so shiny and beautiful. It looked like it would be nice, slick tubing snow. Then all the sagebrush bushes were covered with snow and they looked like little snow rocks dotting the landscape. Along one section of road there were some rock cliffs all covered with frozen water falls. So pretty.

On the way back home we stopped at the Red Barn in Santaquin for some ice cream. It was a very fun few hours of visiting, exploring, reminiscing, and eating, of course. My favorite way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

Today I am thankful for

history. Both my family history and the history of the world that I live in.

nature. It's so nice to get out of the city and just enjoy all the living things that share our world with us.

small towns. I am definitely a small town kind of girl. They each seem to have their own unique personality.

Passing of the Notebook

I am very blessed to have two wonderful sisters with flexible schedules and big hearts who take turns, along with me, staying with my mom while she recovers from her recent health problems. One sister came from her home in Seattle while my mom was in the hospital and for the transfer to the rehabilitation center. She doesn't enjoy driving in the snow anymore than I do, but she did it to transport my mom to her new, temporary home. While she was here she started keeping a notebook with information about how mom was feeling, what medical procedures were being done on her, how she was eating... so she could pass the information on to us. My other sister continued making additions when the notebook, along with mom's care, was passed to her. Since mom has returned to her home the notebook entries have slowed down, but when I arrived I read through the notebook to catch up on what had transpired since I was here last month. It was interesting to read about mom's progress as her health improved and there were a few other interesting tidbits. One sister had made a notation about how the nurse had taught her an easy way to put mom's elastic hose on that made the process so much simpler, but that was all that was said. This morning as I was helping mom get dressed and I came to the socks I began to wish that the notebook had contained a little more detailed information. I commented about it to mom and she said, "Oh, it's easy. You just turn the socks inside out and they roll right on." That didn't sound too difficult so I jumped right in. I turned the socks inside out and then tried to figure out how to get them on so they ended up right. It definitely wasn't as simple as my mom made it sound. Things improved once I figured out that her toes weren't suppose to poke out of the hole at the end of the foot, but I still got a headache concentrating so hard on how in the world this was suppose to work. My mom teased me that she wished she had a camera so she could record my look of concentration and determination as I tried to figure it out. I think I am glad she didn't. We did get them on, but I'm still not sure how I finally did it. Hopefully tomorrow I'll remember what I did. Perhaps if I get it down right I can draw a diagram in the notebook as my contribution. I am also thinking there are a few other things that need to be recorded in the notebook such as how long that cream cheese, bacon, milk,... has actually been open in the fridge and maybe the last time the plants were watered. I just watered the plants, so I guess I better go write in the notebook.

Today I am thankful for

a fireplace. It's so fun to sit next to my mom's fireplace and enjoy the warmth and a good book.
physical therapy that gives my mom something to get up for.
pancakes!

Guess Where I Am?

First I looked at this for a while.

Then I focused on this for a while longer.

Finally, I was greeted by this.

I'm back in cold, snowy, beautiful Utah with my mom for the week. It was 19 degrees at 11:00 AM when my plane landed,
but the sun was shining and my mom felt good enough to come with my sister to pick me up at the airport. Life is good!

Today I am thankful that

my family can take care of themselves pretty well.
my sister is willing to pick me up at the airport.
I get to spend time with my mom and see for myself how she is doing.

Arizona Driver

I have been pretty lucky while I have been in Utah this week. While it has snowed on several occasions, our daily trips to and from Provo for my mom's treatments have been on dry roads. The weathermen had forecast a storm for this afternoon but as we left Payson and headed north at 2:00 we both commented on how clear the roads were and wondered where the storm was. We reached the medical building and my mom went in for her radiation and I quickly settled in to work on "my" puzzle.
There was a gentleman in the waiting room talking to someone on his cell phone. He was inquiring how much snow there was at this unseen individuals home. After hearing the answer to the question he responded, "Well, I don't think we'll be coming up. Your mom doesn't drive in snow and I don't drive with someone screaming in my car." At that point he looked out the window and said, "We're definitely not coming. It's snowing here." At first I thought perhaps he was telling a fib to make not coming more acceptable until I looked out the window and sure enough the snow was already gathering on the parking lot outside.
My mom finished radiation and we went upstairs to get her chemo pump removed and by then all the nurses were beginning to worry if they were going to be able to get home when they got off work at 5:00. We left the building at about 3:30 and there was probably a good 2 to 3 inches on the parking lot. I told mom to stay right there by the door and I would bring the car around. I got in the car and took a while figuring out how to get the front and rear windshield wipers to work and the defrost to blow. The side windows were covered with snow and I couldn't see a snow brush so I decided to revert to a trick my son and I use when the van windows are all fogged up when I take him to marching band at 6:00 in the morning. You just roll the window down and then roll it back up and all the condensation is gone. It's magic! I rolled the window down and it worked quite well except for the lap full of snow that I ended up with. By the time I got back to my mom I think she was wondering where I had gone.
I drove white knuckled, between 15 and 25 mph, even on the freeway, all the way back to Spanish Fork.


I told my mom that I wished I had an "Arizona Driver" sign to hang on the back of her car so the other drivers would give me a little more room. Most of the cars weren't moving any faster than we were, but every once in a while I'd get someone who wanted to test his snow tires or see how well his insurance paid out claims who'd get right on my tail and want me to go faster.
We stopped at ShopKo in Spanish Fork to pick up a prescription for my mom. I was in the store about 5 minutes and came out to a car covered in snow again. This time when I rolled the window down I stopped before the snow fell in though. I'm a quick learner. However when I turned on the wipers, the snow was frozen to them and nothing I tried, the defrost, window washer fluid, making the wipers go faster seemed to get it to move. Instead of wiping the windshield they pretty much smeared water all over the windshield, especially right where my line of vision was. I switched from sitting up extra tall to slumping way down all the rest of the way home so I could see where I was going. I was very happy when we finally pulled into my mom's garage and wouldn't you know it, I looked out the window when we got inside and it had stopped snowing.

Today I am thankful for

the person who invented windshield wipers.
a warm coat.
a break for my mom from doctor trips, radiation and the chemo pump - at least for 2 days.

A Question for my Weatherman

This is something that I have always wondered about -

If the high temperature for the day

never gets above 32 degrees,

then why/how does snow melt on that day?

It seems to me that everything

should just stay frozen.

Now I have heard that heat

escaping from homes through the roof

causes the snow to melt and icicles to form.

Supposedly you can tell

how well insulated your house is

by the number and size of your icicles,

so that is a possible explanation.

I also understand that

where the sun is actually hitting

ie. the driveway, the asphalt,

the mailbox, the roof top, the sidewalk

might be warmer

than the actual recorded high temperature

and that is why the snow melts.

It still seems rather strange to me though,

if water freezes at 32 degrees

if it is below 32 degrees

it should just stay frozen!

That would make sense.

Pond Town Christmas

On the way home from the appointments and shopping today we went through Salem and I drove around the pond to look at the lights. They have signs all over advertising the "Pond Town Christmas". I don't know why, but I think this is a really funny name for some pretty Christmas lights on a pond.

Glittered!

This morning my mom asked me to take something down the street to her visiting teaching companion's house. When I went outside, I was met with a wonderful sight. During the night it had snowed just enough for a fine layer of tiny flakes to cover everything. With the sun shining on the snow, it looked just like someone had taken a giant container of glitter and sprinkled it over the entire neighborhood. It was so sparkly and beautiful! Of course when I tried to take a picture of the shiny effect it didn't quite turn out the way I wanted it to. You'll just have to take my word for it. It was amazing!

Actually, if you click on the picture and make it big you can almost see it sparkle. I doubt my son-in-law will appreciate this though. For some reason he has a very strong aversion to glitter. Go figure.

Shoveling Snow

I went outside this morning to sweep the snow that had fallen during the night off of my mom's front porch so no unsuspecting visitors would slip on the ice that was hidden beneath it and injure themselves. While I was out there, I noticed that the senior citizens across the street were out shoveling their driveways. I decided if they could be that ambitious I should probably be shoveling too so I got the shovel and went to work. There was probably about 3 or 4 inches of new snow on the driveway and that came off quite easily. The old snow underneath, that cars had driven back and forth on, was a little harder to get up but I got most of it. As I was shoveling I was thinking that I should probably shovel the neighbor's driveway too. The couple that lives there both have had major surgeries recently and probably can't do it themselves. Then I looked down the street and each house I could see is occupied by an older person or couple who probably could use my help. I could shovel all day and still not reach everyone who could use my assistance. I decided my contribution would be to shovel the sidewalk and area around the mailboxes so that all the people could safely collect their mail. I know it wasn't much, but it was something. I was happy for all the neighbors later on in the day when the sun came out and most of the snow melted off of all their driveways. However I was kind of sad that I had worked that hard for nothing. Oh well, I don't get the opportunity to shovel snow that often and it was probably good for me.

Even though I grew up in Utah I don't remember shoveling snow very often. I have 2 older brothers and I think they probably pulled snow shoveling duty a lot, along with my dad. Sometimes it's nice to be a girl.

My most vivid snow shoveling memory occurred after I was married. Our family lived in Orem. My hubby had been unemployed for a few months and was offered a job in Arizona working for his tribe. He went to Arizona to start work the middle of January and I stayed in Utah, with our 3 children, to sell the house. As luck would have it we had some major snowstorms while he was gone (which was about a month, but seemed a lot longer) and I spent quite a bit of time shoveling the driveway so prospective buyers could come and look at our house. We lived on a very busy street, so the kids had to stay in the house while I worked. The girls were 4 and 6 months and my son was not quite 3. I usually waited until the baby was asleep and the other 2 were good to entertain themselves or watch me out the window. One day however after I had been shoveling for a while my daughter opened the front door and yelled for help. I hurried inside to find my son sitting on the floor with a set of keys in his hand, his very black hand. It took me a minute to figure out what had happened but I soon spied the electrical outlet in the nearby wall was also black. The son had stuck the keys in the outlet and received quite the shock apparently. I quickly washed his had off and although it was a tiny bit red he didn't seem to be burned. He was lucky that he wasn't really hurt. He has always remembered this experience and is still cautious around plugs to this day.

Today I am thankful for

a warm house to go into after I have been shoveling snow.
no line at the post office.
arms.

Canyon Colors

My mom kept telling me that I needed to do something fun before I went home. She seems to think that all I have done while I was here is work. I don't feel like I have worked very hard. I have done my fair share of laundry and I have cooked a few meals, but I'm not sure that constitutes hard work. The washing machine basically does the work for me and cooking isn't bad at all when the recipients are appreciative.

Since today'was my last day in Utah I had to decide what fun thing I wanted to do. I chose to go on an Autumn leave hunt up the canyon. My mom and my sister decided they could handle that much fun so they accompanied me. My hunt was sucessful and I had lots of fun!

These leaves were just as we entered Payson canyon, pretty close to home. More evidence that Fall is quickly approaching.

This picture was taken from the trailhead to the Grotto, where our family went hiking when we were in Utah this summer. I didn't do any hiking, but I did get out to take a few pictures. We were all surprised that the quaking Aspens, at the top of the mountain, were all still green. There were a lot more colored leaves down lower than there were up high.

My mom has a Fall screen saver on her computer with beautiful yellow trees lining both sides of the road and piles of yellow leaves on the ground. I told her that that was what I was looking for before we left home. These leaves weren't quite as abundant as the ones on her computer, but it was still a very pretty scene. I took this picture in Santaquin Canyon on the way down.

It's a good thing I wasn't trying to do any real hunting on this drive. The deer kept disappearing before I could get my camera situated to "shoot" them. I could have picked off a lot of grazing cows, but I don't think their owners would have appreciated that too much.

I loved being able to actually see Autumn leaves for a change. It was a beautiful and fun trip, much better than cooking or doing laundry.

Today I am thankful for

the time I have been able to spend with my mom and other family members for the past 10 days.
my mom's recovery - even though it is progressing slower than she would like.
people that appreciate my cooking.

The Arrival of Fall

I have to say that I was a little disappointed when I arrived in Utah last week and it wasn't nearly as Fall like as I had been expecting. In Arizona we have been dreaming of the days when the high temperature will finally fall below 90 degrees and praying that it is just around the corner. Autumn decorations keep popping up on the blogs of friends and acquaintances in Maricopa county wishfully encouraging some hope for relief.

Not so in Utah. Although the temperatures are already below ninety here these Utahns seem to be holding on to Summer with all they've got. I have seen a lot more 4th of July decorations still gracing the doors of neighborhood homes than the traditional pumpkin and scarecrow adornments of Autumn and there was nary a colored leaf on the mountains last Sunday as I was driven south from the airport. I guess these residents realize that after Fall quickly comes Winter and they are not quite ready to welcome that with open arms.

However, I was ecstatic this morning, the official first day of Fall, to wake up to overcast skies and a decidedly crisp feel to the air. If I look really hard at the mountain behind my mom's house I can even pick out scatterings of red leafs finally appearing.

Fall is Here!

On my morning walk (which required a jacket for the first time since I've been here) I was excited to see more evidence of the changing seasons.

Raindrops falling gently on my head,

a few leaves beginning to change color and a brave soul acknowledging that Autumn is upon us by decorating a grave with a harvest flair.

Welcome Autumn.

I wish I could stick around to enjoy all you have to offer.

Today I am thankful for

the opportunity to get to see the changing seasons first hand.

A sister to come and spend time with my mom and me.

the need for a jacket.

My Mom's Flowers

My mom has always worked hard
to have a garden or 2 or 3 of beautiful flowers.
At our house on the hill in Heber
my mom had rock gardens
full of pretty flowers
tucked in beds
surrounded by rocks
hauled from the hot pots
in nearby Midway.
Every evening she would go outside
and water her flowers.
I think this was her quiet time.
Her time to think and
to appreciate the fruits of her labors.
At the time I didn't really understand
what she found so enjoyable about
standing over the garden
with a hose every night
but now I think I am
beginning to figure it out.
It's nice to look at something
you have created
from almost nothing
and see it flourish.
It's rewarding to be a part of
making Heavenly Father's world
a more beautiful place.

My mom is a good example to me
of being creative and
making her little corner of the world
a nicer place.
Even though she doesn't feel good
most of the time
she keeps busy sewing
or quilting
or crocheting
or knitting
or doing geneology.
After her surgery
the nurse's instructions
from the doctor were
"Don't just lay in bed
all the time"
so she is adamate that she
needs to be up and doing something.
Although I think it is o.k.
to act sick for a little while
following cancer surgery
I do admire her for her detemination
to not let this bump in the road
keep her from accoplishing
the things she desires.


I could learn a lot from her.
Perhaps I'll go home and
plant a Fall garden.

Today I am thankful for

a mom who is a good example to me.
happy childhood memories.
A new baby boy in the family born to my niece yesterday.

The Waiting Game

Today my mom had her surgery. She got up early and was ready to go by 8:00 AM and then we had to come up with something to do until it was time to drive across the street to the hospital for her 10:30 scheduled arrival time. She couldn't even use up some time eating breakfast since she had to fast. Just when we were getting tired of staring at each other my brother and my sister-in-law (my other brother's wife) arrived to give us someone new to look at. They had decided they wanted to hear what the doctor had to say and they also didn't want me to be waiting all alone. I appreciated their support and I'm sure mom did too.

When we arrived at the hospital they went to the waiting area and I stayed with mom to get all the paperwork filled out and the last minute tests conducted. Then we were escorted back to a curtained off cubicle and a reclining hospital chair to wait for it to be mom's turn. We waited and waited and waited. We talked about everything we could think of to talk about. We analyzed the interior decorating. We were fans of the clouds painted on the florescent light covers, but weren't at all sure that the fire engine red outlet covers went with the color scheme. We tried to decide if they glowed if the power went out, but then we decided it really wasn't important to know where the outlets were if you didn't have any electricity. We discussed the merits of hospital gowns and fuzzy socks. We tried to guess how much a hospital gown designer gets paid. I read the Outdoor Life magazine and learned that the life span of a frog can be as long as 39 years. Finally my mom's doctor and the oncologist who was assisting him dropped in to explain what they were going to do and to tell her the operating room was almost ready and then we waited some more. About noon they finally wheeled my mom to surgery and I went to the waiting room to wait some more.

Waiting made us all hungry so we decided to visit the hospital cafeteria for lunch. We all had turkey and I had a baked potato with mine. It was actually very good hospital food. Then we went back to wait a while longer. The doctor came out about 2:30 to tell us that the surgery and had gone well and what they had done and what to expect. He showed us with his hands the size of the patch of skin and tissue they had removed. It was about the size of a checkbook box. I'm not sure where they found that much flesh to cut out. He said they would keep mom until she was alert and then they would move her to her room on the 2nd floor. He told us to go upstairs in about an hour so we waited some more in the waiting room and then we headed for the elevator. The sign in the elevator said that the 2nd floor was Labor and Delivery and we weren't sure that was where my mom was really going to show up, but we got off and asked the nurses and they assured us that we were in the right place. They directed us to her room and we waited some more. About 4:00 my mom arrived in her room and we spent the next couple of hours listening to the alarms go off on her monitor while they tried to get her oxygen level and blood pressure stabilized and she tried to get comfortable with her entire body tied up to various machines and tubes.

My hand holders left about 6:30 or 7:00 and I went and bought my mom her fresh raspberry shake (which was her reward for being a good girl all day). We are grateful that our family has strong stomachs and don't throw up following surgery. The nurse told her she could have the shake once we were sure she could hold down food and she was anxious to get it after her not so delicious dinner of beef broth, herbal tea, water and a protein juice drink.

It was a long day of waiting but things seemed to go well and hopefully the problem is taken care of. Now we just have to wait for the report on the lymph nodes. More waiting.

Today I am thankful for

skilled doctors who can remove cancer from our bodies.
a brother and sister-in-law to keep me company and buy me lunch.
other people's opinionated kids who remind me that mine are normal.

The Grass is Always Greener...

When I went on my walk today I saw these two horses that made me laugh. They were standing in a field full of tall green grass that to me looked like pretty great horse food, yet they both had their heads stuck through the fence and their necks extended as far as they could reach eating the grass mixed in with the weeds at the side of the road.

Silly Horses!

A lot of times I am just like those horses. I think that something that is just out of my reach looks so much better and would make me so much happier than something similiar that is more available.

Like at a thrift store. The items that are already in someone else's cart are usually "Just what I would like". I always wish that I had found them first.

Why do we feel that way? Some people would probably call it human nature but obviously it isn't just human nature. These horses felt the same way.

The Fruits of Fall

What a wonderful time of year to get to come to Utah! Today mom and I took a ride out to Santaquin and visited a few fruit stands. I bought some apples and peaches and nectarines that were probably growing on the tree yesterday. Then we drove out to Genola and behind West mountain to see all the fruit orchards and the trees still laden with fruit. We followed a tractor pulling a wagon full of peaches to the stand for a couple of minutes. I feel bad for city kids that think that fruit just comes from a store.

When we got back to mom's house I went out in her back yard and picked some tomatoes and some summer squash out of her tiny garden. Yum! Yum! Eating what I'm suppose to on my diet is going to be so much easier with all this bounty. I am so blessed.

Cemetery Thoughts

When I visit my mom I usually
take my daily walk in the Payson cemetery.

I really like walking in cemeteries.
They are peaceful and quiet
and there's not too much traffic
to have to watch out for.

Cemeteries are also a good place to think.
To reflect on what is important in life.
To ponder on what lasts and what doesn't.
To appreciate how blessed I am
to live in a time
where my children outliving me
is a good possibility.

This row of graves is a sad reminder
that this wasn't always the case.
In her 53-year lifetime this mother
buried 6 children under the age of 1
and another child at 15.

Cemeteries are good places to remember
my ancestors and the choices they made
and the impact those choices
have had on my life.

Cemeteries bring to mind questions
about what I value in life
and where my focus is and
what symbol could or would
be put on my tombstone
to represent me and my interests.

I like tombstones.
I like how firm and permanent they appear.
I like how they remind me of
the walls of the temple
and the covenants and promises
that are made there.
Promises that assure me
that death is not the end
and that I can be with my family again
even though circumstances
may separate us for a time.

I also enjoy the lighter side of cemeteries.
How it seems that some names
were created solely for the purpose
of being engraven on a tombstone.

Today I am thankful for

60 degree temperatures at 10:00 AM.
the ability to walk, even slowly.
thinking time.
Fresh fruits and vegetables.