The Ten Days of Thanksgiving

We have twelve days of Christmas, right? Why not ten days or so of Thanksgiving? I'm going to spend the next ten days posting things for which I am thankful. Of course, ten days or one-hundred days wouldn't be enough to do all my blessings justice, but just spending the time writing for awhile might make me ever more mindful of all that makes my life worth living.

Day Number One:

Today I am thankful for modern technology, and most specifically the things that help keep us connected with those we love. Isn't it remarkable that we can dial some numbers and in seconds we can be speaking with a family member who lives thousands of miles away? Or send a text and you can get an instant reply from halfway around the world. Friends can give road updates, husbands can get instructions from wives so they'll get the shopping done right, wives can find out from husbands what to do when the car is making that funny noise again. Daughters can call mom and ask for a prayer before a dreaded test, sons can call parents to tell the latest cute things their little boys did. All of this can take place in a moment of time. Granddaughters can call and put on a piano recital for Grandma. To me it is truly incredible.

One of my most recent experiences with modern technology occurred Saturday. Katy wanted to give Cindy a baby shower. Cindy lives in Virginia and Katy lives in Utah. Katy's brilliant idea was to do a "virtual" shower so that the friends and family could gather at her place and by web cam they could invite Cindy to join the party. Tom and I headed for Utah so I could be part of the shower, too, but the highway was icy and scary so we turned around and headed home, first stopping at Les Schwab to get studded tires for my car. We got home and connected to the internet on the computer so that we could join the party from Nevada. Alan connected so he could have a video chat with us, and while he was on he told us how we could have a conference video chat so that we wouldn't have to "take turns" talking to Cindy and the others. So once we were all connected through "tokbox.com" we could see everyone in New York, Virginia, and Utah,all at the same time, and what a thrill that was for me. I got to see twelve of my grandchildren and all but one of my children. Actually, I know Michael was there at Katy's but I didn't see him, so I saw four out of the six. I did hear his voice, though.

While I am on the phone talking to my kids or having a video chat with any of them I forget that we are hundreds or thousands of miles apart, and feel that we are in the same room and I can almost feel them breathing and that I can reach out and hug each of them.

We went to visit our friends Chris and Andrea Sunday night and they were having a video chat with Andrea's parents and brothers in Alaska. I bet Andrea would say she's very grateful for this technology, too, and I am certain her mom is thankful she can see her only grandson and not feel quite so far away.

Whoever invented all of this technology is going to get a pie from me one day! I love him!

I'd add photos but there's something wrong with the technology tonight and I can't make comments on anyone else's blogs nor can I upload photos to mine. So whoever said it was perfect? These are the moments when we can be thankful for all the times that it does work!

Plantar Fasciitis

There are some things that we can't do anything about, and we have to learn how to deal with them as they come--losing our hearing, our perfect eyesight, etc. However, I have learned too late about some things, and one of them is "plantar fasciitis." I had not even heard of this until recently, once I had developed the symptoms. Now I have found that I have lots of friends with the condition. And I've also learned that had I properly cared for my feet I wouldn't have the crippling annoyance. Fortunately, I am learning things that I can do to relieve the symptoms. But for those of you who are much younger, I am advising you that you read about it now and take preventive measures so that you won't have to deal with this in your midlife years.

Now I'm going to put this aging body to bed. It's no longer "beauty sleep" but "restore energy" sleep. I thought I was going to have a lot more fun when I got old!

Poets

I am so thankful for those clever, talented souls who write beautiful poetry--thus giving us a way to express ourselves when without the help of the poet we'd be clumsy and fall short of saying just how we feel. Don't you love Hallmark cards? What would we do without them?

One of my favorite classes in high school was my English class, particularly when we studied poetry. I still have some of the poetry we analyzed back then. It was in high school when I learned a little about E. E. Cummings. One of my favorites of his is "Maggie and Millie and Molly and May..."

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea

I love Cummings' unconventional style, and I love what I
learn about myself from this poem.
When Amy was small we went to the beach in
California and she delighted in collecting items that probably
said something about who she was.  I wonder what she would
now pick up from the leftovers buried in the sand as
the waves washed out to shore.  What would I be drawn to?
How about you?
Are you a Maggie, a Millie, a Mollie or a May?

Last year in our RS book club meeting one month we
shared poems. One of my friends shared another of
Cummings' poems which I immediately embraced
as one of my favorites.  I heard it again on a
movie last week and again it brought tears
to my eyes.  It's called "I carry your heart with me."

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

I would like to meet E. E. Cummings someday
and ask him who was his inspiration for his
beautiful work.

I like to write poetry, too, and
I've written poems for my kids
and grandchildren, but they only
hold meaning for us;
no one else would be inspired by my
work.  For example, here's a little rhyme
I wrote for my son, Michael, which described
well his contributions to our family:

"We call him the 'Fix-it Man,'
If anyone can, he can.
He'll take it apart
And get it to start,
He's Michael the fix-it man!"

(This can be sung to the tune of "Popeye the Sailor Man.")

Maybe sometime I'll post the rhymes of the songs I wrote
for my grandchildren, but I have to write a few more
before I share what I've already done.  I don't want
anyone to feel I've neglected them.

And now to you I say "adieu."

Blah Blah Blog...

This is just to say I'm still here, but feeling very weary at the moment and needing a nap. When I wake I'll be able to ponder on the significance of the day's events and I know I'll feel satisfied--very satisfied--at how this week is shaping up so far. But, man, I'm tired!

Confessions of a Non-Saint

We returned Tuesday from a trip to New York to visit Alan and his family. We took my father, Tom's mother and his autistic sister. Now, most of you know that I am generally optimistic, patient, tolerant, and happy, not wanting to think ill of anyone or treat them unkindly in any way. I won't go into any details, but I was tested greatly in all these areas during our seven days of travel (that includes the day before and the day after our flights). By the time we were getting on the last leg of our flight TO New York, I was having to bite my tongue so much that it's suprising I still had a tongue to bite! As we were approaching Albany the flight attendant approached me and bent over and whispered to me, "I want you to know you're incredible!" I was surprised! This flight attendant could not have known all the thoughts I had had, including during the first ten minutes on the plane as it was being loaded, when I determined I was going to write to the airline and register a complaint against this attendant. I had softened toward her as I observed her over the course of the two hours of delay we experienced while waiting in the plane for take-off, and how she handled herself and the passengers during the flight. My dad and I had joked with her when things were really tense during the long wait, and that helped, I think, but I really don't know why she thought I was incredible. She did have a good view of me and knew how I was responding to the needs of my in-laws and my dad, but I can't think of anything I did that would have made her think good of me. And I felt so guilty because I had had unkind feelings toward her at the beginning of the trip. Not saintly behavior!

I had to pray continually through our time in New York that I could have patience and be able to refrain from saying anything unkind to or about anyone in particular. My treatment of others was pretty good, I think, in spite of myself, but I had trouble with the "saying anything unkind about" anyone. I vented too often and I kicked myself every time. My attitude toward others could very well have affected other people's attitudes, too, and I am ashamed of that. When Pat, my friend and my daughter-in-law's mother, told me the day we were leaving that I was a "saint," I felt guilty again! Jessica tried to give me the confidence that it's alright to THINK thoughts you don't want to express out loud, and I appreciated her efforts to make me feel better about myself. But I think that a "saint" wouldn't have let anyone know she/he was even bothered by a situation in the first place.

There was a time in my life, a few generations ago, when it could have been said of me that I never said an unkind thing about anyone. In fact, I heard someone say once that if "Edna heard someone say something unkind about someone then she would hurry to say something good about that same person." But it's not so any longer. At my funeral they won't be able to say "She never sad a bad thing about anyone." Sigh. Even when I determine to start fresh and become that person who never complains, I fail after awhile.

So, there it is, out in the open: I am not a saint! All I am is someone with tooth marks on my tongue for trying unsuccessfully to be one. But I will give myself credit for not giving any details about any one in particular whose behavior made me bite my tongue in the first place!

Thirty-Four!

Inspired by Amy, I hav decided to post in honor of the thirty-four years Tom and I have been married. Our anniversary was Friday and we were in New York so we didn't celebrate. But all of our kids called us to wish us a happy day. We appreciate their thoughtfulness. Amy was first, of course. She beat everyone to it by calling us a day early.

So what is there to celebrate anyway? Almost thirty-five years ago in October we got in Tom's car up at Weber State College and drove downtown and suddenly found ourselves in Schubach's Jewelry Store. We bought rings and then walked back to his car. He had locked his keys inside since he was so nervous. I got to see how resourceful he was while observing him rigging something to open the door. Once we were on our way I helped him realize that he hadn't actually asked me to marry him, so while driving down the road he asked me if I would and I said "yes."

We were engaged ten months, and on August 21, 1975, we knelt across an altar in the Salt Lake Temple, two kids not having any idea what they were getting themselves into, and made all sorts of promises we thought it would be easy to keep, looked in the mirrors to see how we went on and on eternally, exchanged kisses and rings, and then we were a family: Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Dean Washburn. We honeymooned in Southern Utah and then returned to Ogden to begin fall semester classes.

We lived in a basement apartment near WSC's campus and walked to school together every day. I soon discovered I was pregnant and Tom soon learned that my cravings were unusual--pancakes for supper, jam on my omelets, etc. But I didn't think that was as weird as pickles and ice cream!

Michael was born May 16, 1976--our Bicentennial Baby! I was so happy to be a mother; having a baby to hold, to smell, to cuddle and love and care for night and day filled the voids in my life. And each baby after that added to the joy, for there was nothing that made me feel more complete than having these little children running around filling the rooms with happy sounds. Alan was born September 23, 1977, Amy September 1, 1979, Lisa November 21, 1981, Katy May 16, 1984 (yes, the same day as Michael), and Cindy May 19, 1987. Above all the other wonderful blessings over the years, these six people in my life give us the greatest reasons to celebrate these thirty-four years together.

We've lived in Roosevelt, Utah, South Haven and Portage, Indiana, West Jordan and Grantsville, Utah, and now Spring Creek, Nevada. I don't know if this will be the last stop for us or not. But everywhere we've lived we've tried to "bloom where planted." Tom has demonstrated his skills at gardening and home maintenance in all of our homes and has set an example of finding pleasure in hard work. Our children have all followed his example. He also has a terrific singing voice and I am pleased that all of our children have taken after their father in that regard. And they are all intelligent and good-looking as he is. They are very fortunate to have such a father.

Now we are expecting grandchildren numbers 13, 14, and 15. What grandchildren have added to my life I don't think I can describe adequately. I am so thankful to my children for having the courage and desire to bring children into the world, and I have loved watching them as parents--and I can say they have done an outstanding job of loving and teaching and training their little ones! Our oldest granddaughter was baptized last week, and I was so pleased to see my son Alan worthy to take her into the baptismal font and perform the baptism. And I got teary-eyed when Alan began to cry while confirming Emily and blessing her with the gift of the Holy Ghost. Every year from now on there will be at least one of our grandchildren baptized. At the age I am now and having experienced all that I have, I know without a doubt that the most important thing we can learn in this life is that we are children of a Heavenly Father who loves us. I am grateful my children are teaching their children the lessons they learned in their youth.

So after thirty-four years it is easy to take a look and see what there is to celebrate. It hasn't been easy, in fact we've had some extremely trying times over the years. But we are still working together, drawing our family around as often as possible, getting to the temple when we can, and looking forward to the adventures that lie ahead.

Happy Anniversary to us!

What Goes Around Comes Around....

Today I loaned my car to a friend with three young children so she can get out and do a few things. Now, if I hadn't thought of it myself and made the offer first, and she had to ask me if she could borrow my car, how could I possibly have said "no" when my own daughter is halfway across the country from me, has no family around to help, and finds herself in the same situation--no car, young kids, can't go anywhere? And she has a good friend who did for her what I would have done if I had been there and could have helped. I realized all this after I got home from taking my car to Chelsea. Thank goodness for friends (my children's friends and my friends)! And Sandi's at the top of my list for many reasons; today it's for taking me to town because I didn't have a car to get me there. I've learned we never have to do it alone. There's always someone eager to help because they've been helped before, too.