My Favorite Day

This day, this wonderful day before Thanksgiving has always been my "favorite-ist" day of the year and hopefully will be forever. Why the day spells magic and joy to me I don't exactly understand although I've some ideas. 

For one, the Thanksgiving Day holiday is my favorite holiday of the year; better than Christmas. The day is about all the right things; loved ones and time together, sharing a great meal. What could be nicer? I love that Thanksgiving is always on a Thursday, the fourth Thursday of November. The time of week makes for a very nice four day weekend for many of us, unlike Christmas or New Years that can fall on any day of the week. I love the loaded plate of food, the tastes all blending together. I love the leftovers. I even love the preparation and (sigh) even the cleanup. The fall decorations are beautiful.

This is prime time, people.

But the day before Thanksgiving?  This is the day of promise, the beginning, the quiet anticipation growing, the joyful thought about how nice it will be to gather together once again as family, as friends, as grateful people enjoying the bounty of our lives. I always stop to think about my extended family and where they are on this day, what they're doing  and no matter how far afield they may be, I can draw them close in my thoughts. I remember those loved ones no longer here but who were once such important faces around the table.

Recent tradition holds that we'll watch  A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving video, eat pizza, and snack o Party Mix. No matter the weather, it's time to be gathered inside together.

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!

He's Meditating on It

Yesterday I shared the news with my 95 year old Dad.

"Laura is pregnant".

A slight, soft smile crossed his face; maybe a small chuckle.

"I guess this means she's getting married", he said.

And then I explained the rest of the story. He was thoughtful,  quiet, absorbing all that I told him. We sat together in silence. He wasn't upset. He wasn't overjoyed. He took it all in. He listened and ate a couple of York peppermint patties.

"I'm meditating.", he said. "I have a lot to think about."

I'll be interested in what his meditation brings forth over the coming weeks. He's such an honest man; honest but also thoughtful.

"She's a beautiful girl that Laura.", he added.



 

When Dad Knows, It's Time for the World to Know.

Hearing aids serviced and best possible operating condition: check

Dad wearing both hearing aids: negative. He was wearing only one

Dad is a reasonably good mood: negative. He was cranky about the sore on his face, aggravated by "the way the girls on for the weekend shave me" and his burned out light bulb with no replacement in sight.

Dad and daughter visiting alone: negative. Laura wanted to go with me to visit her grandfather. "There's nothing else to do and going will distract me". (sigh)

One out of four requisites didn't cut it. Tomorrow may be a better day to let him know our news and be open to his response. I have no clue what he'll say but whatever it is, he'll (probably and hopefully) be honest and say what's on his heart even though he respects privacy (see last post).

Second Monday in June

I'm feeling strange with an abrupt shift of gears today. Coming off of a 7 day on-call mindset, totally consumed by things medical, I'm back to work at the Arapahoe house. MM and I are at it again; one step at a time, towards the goal of getting the house on the market.

This is a sad time but I try not to dwell on the meaning of breaking up a home, dispersing every item therein and closing the door for the last time. The finality troubles me.

This week we're witnessing the fruits of our labors in April where all items of value were photographed and cataloged into a document for all seven grandchildren of Dean and Doris to peruse and select items they might like to have. Furniture, rugs, wall hangings, dishes, crystal, silverware. Everything.

What I thought would be simple, wasn't. Creating the inventory was an enormous task. We had hundreds of photographs of items divided into categories. MM did the bulk of the work on the master document and the task of encouraging the family to participate in the process in the midst of their busy lives. That was harder than I had anticipated.

A friend of mine went through this process with her parent's home awhile back. Using a similar list, she was amazed how dispersal seemed to magically "sort itself out". I hope that's the case for us. To some degree we're noticing this with our master list. It's fascinating to learn what's important to the third generation of our family.  Everyone is unique. Some have selected many items. Others 2 or 3 at most. Interesting.

When all is said and done, the "left overs" will either go to thrift shops, consignment, or....get packed up and stored in my home. There are so many things that I can't part with just yet, can't let go into the big world.

This is hard.

Three Week Marathon

A sprint, not a marathon, for me please. I'd much rather grit my teeth and get through something self limited than steam ahead on a seemingly endless and exhausting moving treadmill. Yesterday marked the end to my three week nose-to-the-grindstone, work-like-a-dog (who is that working dog, by the way?), date with a mixed up stew of responsibilities and tasks.

I'm settling in to my second day off, at home, free of my paying job and trying to ignore the non-paying jobs as best I can, I'll take a stab writing about what went on in these three weeks above and beyond wine, chocolate, coffee, red bull, imitrex, tears, and curses.

Photographing Everything

MM and I tackled and made a decent dent in the enormous task of sorting through and archiving items at the house on Arapahoe. Our goal is to get the house ready to sell although we've lots more to do before that can happen. She was here for 10 days and we worked together most days; sometimes for 8-10 hours at a time, sometimes for just a few hours in the evening. I had three full days OFF of work to really dig in. MM took hundreds of photographs from furniture and wall hangings to treasured family dinnerware, decorative plates, and crystal; the basis for a master spreadsheet for the extended family to view and choose what they might like to inherit. We also donated at least four carloads of stuff to charity and generated bags of trash and recycling, Hand sorting and making a decision about every single item is emotionally draining. Hauling box after box of archived family papers and photographs into the car and then into my basement was physically exhausting. The work was important. We knew this down to the bone.

Living Room at Arapahoe

Happy 24th!

Laura and Scott breezed in for less than 48 hours the weekend of her Birthday in the midst of the Arapahoe project. We jam packed their hours with good food, drink, conversation, and of course hauling boxes out of Scott's car and back into Scott's car for their trip back to Spokane. Sometimes it seems as though we move STUFF from one location to another continuously. STUFF; the things that begin to weigh us down and take over our lives. There is a theme here, people.

Then came my ill advised 48 hour trip to Spokane to visit Laura a week later. I drove the 285 miles each way, listening to audio books and stopping regularly at Dairy Queen franchises for soft serve cones to fuel the journey. I agreed to make the trip because she wanted me to see her new apartment and......she was alone for the weekend and felt like company would be nice. In her defense, I think she anticipated tackling a few small (sorting/organizing) projects but, NO.....over ambitious Mom was in high gear and ready to work relentlessly on a life-long project that, unless I consciously put a stop to it, will never (ever) end. She and I are both too old (in different ways) to be doing this dance. She ends up frustrated. I end up frustrated and things go to SHIT before long; usually by the 24 hour mark. In retrospect, her apartment looked better for my visit but at what cost to us both?  Live and learn over and over and over again.

Baby Noni?

Top this exhaustion off  with a legitimate allergy to guinea pig urine (I've learned it is not so much dander as it is urine that morphs into aerosol). That's gross especially for me, a Nephrologist who loves urine. Within a half hour of arrival at Laura's new digs, I could feel the familiar itchy throat, raspy voice, and the start of chest tightness. The rest of the story involved an albuterol inhaler, zyrtec, wide open windows that allowed stinkbugs free entry into the apartment, and frizzled nerves all around.

The not so good news about pulling into Seattle late afternoon last Sunday was the looming 7 day on-call week starting bright and early Monday morning. Couple that with a 95 year old father who hadn't seen me in a week. The final seven days of the marathon seemed like impending hell. In the end, it was half easy:half hard and I lived through it.

I'm taking these two days off to do exactly what I want. Oh, and a few things I don't want to do like clean the house. Denny's wonderful about cooking and laundry but as for cleaning? That's mine.

He Gives Good Advice (sometimes)...

This man of mine gives good advice. I suppose I ignore much of it but there are two bits of advice he's given me in the last few weeks that were spot on, one most recently as today. Thanks, hon.

1. "Are you crazy?": This in response to my good heart-ed idea that the six of us share a lovely 2 bedroom suite with a pull out bed in the living room area whilst staying in Houston for Carrie and Rob's wedding weekend. Turns out he was SO RIGHT, AND I WAS SO WRONG.  I told him as much which tickled him to no end. He loves it when I acknowledge his "rightness".  I just thought that sharing space might make for family bonding and sweet memories. I'm so glad we all had our own hotel rooms to retreat to after the frenzies of the days in Houston. Bottom line: we all need private time and space. No. Matter. What.

2. "You'll feel guilty if you don't". This  in response to my desire to vegetate this Sunday, all of this Palm Sunday prior to a 7 day stint on-call. He's referring to the fact that I didn't offer to take Dad to church today. So....I called him last night and asked if he would like to go. "Yes, I'd like that!", was his response. And so, because next weekend (Easter) I'm on call and can't take him, we went today.  It was good. Always good, and he was appreciative.

Communion: the breaking of bread

 

He's not a great fan of Communion Sunday, the first Sunday of each month but still, it was good and the right thing to do. He didn't feel too well this morning, was rather weak and unsteady on his feet, but he definitely wanted to go to church. The sun broke through the clouds intermittently, the temperatures were mild, and the skies were dry, for a change. All good.

I stopped at the QFC on our way back to the adult family home and bought him a bouquet of yellow daffodils. I hope the bright color cheers his spirits. I'll be busy all week and won't see him until Saturday.

Sitting next to him in church always reminds me how lucky I am to have him in my life.

Again, thank you dear husband for setting me on the "straight and narrow".

Left Seattle: Arrived Houston

The six of us joined up with 3 Klebans and 4 McGradys at Seatac Airport this morning making an excited group of 13 bound for a wedding weekend in Houston. This is Carrie and Rob's weekend of celebration and we're thrilled to be a part of the festivities. Plus, this is Houston; say it again: Hous....ton Town.

As we trooped onto the plane I felt my Mom's presence; she wouldn't have liked bidding goodbye to 13 (wow, what a number on top of everything else) very special people all at once. Although I miss her, I was glad her spirit flies in a different dimension because if she is aware of our comings and goings, she's likely NOT worrying.

The flight buzzed by faster than usual. Just off the plane, we marveled at the sunshine and warm breeze having left the chill and grey of the Northwest far behind. It wasn't long before the pull of the first feast of the 3 day weekend  assumed priority #1. Not surprisingly, we picked The 59 Dinner. We all ordered the same meal: chicken tenders with fries and honey mustard dipping sauce with a milkshake or malt on the side. Oh my; the memories of yesteryear, the taste, the ambiance, the joy of introducing a slice of our past to Heather and Scott who see Houston with new eyes.

We've laughed more than we've stressed. The family dynamic is always slightly below the surface. Denny and I are surfing the invisible but palpable waves of energy emanating from our beloved, adult children. Once a parent, always a parent.

Someone brought this insanely big suitcase

The four young ones. I remember those days.....

A place for "eating heavy".

"El-bloat-o"

And tomorrow? We have our day mapped out. Three meals, multiple stops along the way to see our 3 former homes in Houston, various not-to-be-missed spots, the Texas Medical Center, and maybe a stop at Fiesta to stock up on  Dickies Peanut Patties or to share a pint of Blue Bell ice cream with 6 spoons.

Weddings bring families together like little else (except funerals...). Weddings are way more fun.

Free Floating Anxiety

Today and tomorrow are my last days off before the week on call starts on Monday. Even though I've had a nice long break since my last week on the hospital service in December, I still dread jumping into the fray once again. Unpredictable, challenging, frustrating, exhausting on the one hand and, just to be fair, also (occasionally) exhilarating, enlivening, fulfilling, and (maybe) fun on the other hand. Right now I'm not feeling fair so the first four descriptors are the way I really feel about next week.

Coupled with thoughts of the future (why can't I live in the moment?), other free floating anxieties plague me.

Yesterday my colleague's two young children came by the office. Three and seven years old, they laughed and played with their Dad's I phone, the joyous giggles a reminder of how in-the-moment kids live and how innocently they move through time and space. Unencumbered by thoughts of the future or the past, I long to cultivate the child's mind. Whisked back to twenty years ago when my two were youngsters, a pang of bittersweet swept through me.

Everyone knows: parenting never ends. Parenting just changes face. It's not necessarily easier or more difficult; each phase is new, uncharted territory. How we respond as parents to whatever happens in our children's lives is individual but we still respond. Doing nothing or something counts as a response.

I am a worrier. I think about the effect of natural elements: snow, rain, ice, water, wind.  I ponder abduction, assaults, accidents, and alcohol.  Fire (I learned that from my Mom most surely) lingers in the background of everything. When my kids are on the road or out of town, my thoughts get pulled back to where they are and what they might be experiencing.

Is this internal wiring, learned behavior (I had the most powerful role model ever....my Mom) or both?

The physical feeling is a tightening in my shoulders and a I realize my breath is uneven and short. I need to open into utrasana pose  and breathe in and out with intention.

Grand Cats

The young couple who just celebrated their second Wedding Anniversary (can it be????) adopted two kittens this fall. Gus is the lanky, part Siamese pencil thin dude with the long tail and Oliver is the precious little orange fur ball. Heather calls the three of them in this photo her "boys". Tina and I call the kitties the "grand-cats". Chris is still Chris.

Do Cell Phones Give You Acne?

I overheard this conversation between my two kids yesterday.

He: Why do you use your Iphone on "speaker mode" all the time?

She: I have to; if I listen and talk into it, I get acne. Bad. On that side of my face.

He: (sighing) You should wipe your Iphone off with special wipes that won't hurt the screen. Everyday. Then it'll stay clean and you won't get acne.

She: That' won't work. It's really bad.

He: But you can't hear what the other person is saying very well; it's all garbled. That's why no one can ever understand you.

She: No, it isn't.

Sigh.  What do you think; do cell phones give you acne? Turns out they are both right.

3 Days in Spokane

Some of this, a bit of that, too much of another; laughter, tears, hard work and take-a-break interludes; last weekend wound down. She and I flew back to Seattle last Monday.

Here's some of what went on in Spokane

An introduction to the "furries", the 3 new guinea pig babies born to "Midnight Noni". Mama, babies, Daddy, step-Mom, and half brother make 7.  The one thing I can say right now is these balls of allergy on a stick bring her joy, real joy.  For me, walking in to her apartment stirred up the allergies. I prepared myself this time around with a supply of prednisone, albuterol inhaler, claritin, benadryl, and anti-histamine eyedrops  There was need for all five in various sequences and combinations all weekend.

Scott holds the babies

We attended a baby shower for a friend who dressed accordingly. There were other pregnant women around as well and the Halloween spirit infused the festivities. Nice.

Spooky Baby Shower cake

And babies make four!

Then there was a trip to Greenbluff for those amazing pumpkin donuts and a stop by Townshend Winery for a bit of tasting.

We cleaned and sorted, pitched and organized.

Oh, and I signed on with the Quibids penny auction site and stayed up into the wee hours winning Vera Bradley products for cheap.  Sigh. More things to keep track off....

Back in Seattle. Moving forward.

A Heavy Heart

Mom used to talk about having a "heavy heart". I've experienced the same many times in my life. The heaviness comes not so much from the emotion of grief but rather an overwhelming sadness that permeates the mind and body leaving a heavy, lethargic feeling. The heavy heart is my constant companion today.

Sitting at the airport, I'm waiting for my flight to Spokane. The weather outside is foggy, moist with dense fog and light rain; perfect for a heavy heart sort of day.  Although I dread flying in any weather, this overcast stuff bespeaks of a probable bumpy ride. I could do without that added stress right now. At least this is a short flight and far easier than driving the nearly 300 miles to get there.

When we are blessed with adult children, the roles, rules, and responsibilities change. I'm finding it increasingly evident that sometimes, all we can do is listen. Sometimes that is enough. Sometimes, advice is the last thing to help forge a path through a messed up situation. Despite my ideas and suggestions, I won't spout off unless invited. A simple presence, at least for now, is probably the best I can hope for.

I ask for grace.

If my heart is heavy, hers is heavier. How we hate to see our children hurt and struggle with life's problems.  

From Kindergarten to Grown Men



C. Maher and C. Maynard

Twenty years ago this month, Denny and I walked our 5 year son in to his kindergarten classroom at Blaine Elementary in Seattle. This was his first day of school and he was excited, if not a bit wary. His teacher, a veteran of decades in the public school system, remarked that there was another young boy in class with the same first name: Christopher. Interestingly, the last names were remarkably close as well: Maher and Maynard.  Little did we know the two  would strike up a lasting friendship spanning those 20 years.

Our Chris and best buddy, Christopher attended grade school, middle school, and high school together. The boys shared after school activities, sleepovers, a passion for computers, gaming, and pranks.  They adopted the same nickname: "Topher" which then morphed into "Toe". In later years, the two "Toes" confessed to a wide range of questionable adventures, usually involving water and/or model rockets. Sigh.

"Toe", Laura, and "Toe"

These two boys attended different universities but both remained in Seattle, linked by proximity. When our son Chris and Heather married, Christopher supported his good friend as a groomsman and delivered a wonderful toast at the reception. In a mere blink of an eye, they had grown from kids into adults.

Last weekend, these guys bid each other goodbye as "Toe" drove his childhood friend, "Toe" downtown to catch the train to Seatac and a flight to Texas. "Toe" has a new job in Austin and leaves Seattle behind. I wasn't able to give this second son of mine a goodbye hug but we did talk on the phone while the two were enroute downtown. I pointed out to "Toe" that it was exactly 20 years ago that the two first met. Young boys become young men, their futures bright and full of promise.

I'll miss seeing "Toe" at our dinner table. I'll miss the laughs and reminiscing. The memories live on.  Good luck to you, "Toe".

Thanks Heather and Chris

A wonderful weekend was had by all in this house.

Tina and I,  mothers to Heather and Chris respectively, would like very much to make what went on this weekend a tradition every year. We were wined, dined and treated to a magnificent show by our eldest children. Since we share August Birthdays, Heather and Chris (that cute married couple) arranged a wonderful treat for us on Saturday. We enjoyed dinner out at Palomino in downtown Seattle followed by a fabulous performance of Les Miserables at the 5th Avenue Theatre.



Kate, Chris, Heather, Tina

The performance moved me; my first time to see Les Mis. The plot, for a first timer, can be a challenge to follow. The soundtrack is in my future; would love to immerse in the audio aspect of the show again. Marvelous.

This was definitely a Birthday to remember.  Don't worry H and C; we won't hold you to grand and extravagant adventures like this every year. Maybe every other year.  LOL. And, a big thank you!

On the Road to Spokane

 

The 290 mile drive from Seattle to Spokane breaks down into 3 pieces. Seattle to Ellensburg involves an uphill drive to the Snoqualmie Summit and downhill into the valley beyond. I love Ellensburg because the Dairy Queen makes for a perfect first stop. Gotta love those soft serve cones. 

Top that little treat off with one of these to fuel the remainder of the journey and I'm set for the next 200 miles through parts 2 and 3 of the trip.

I

The next 100 miles winds up-hill through dry scrub and sandstone cliffs, bluffs, and wide open views. Then, a downhill descent to the Columbia River follows with another uphill past the Gorge and the miniscule town of George, WA. 

The final stretch is flat, flat, flat through fields, the townships of Moses Lake and Ritzville, and on into Spokane. The first Ponderosa pine tree tells me I'm getting onto the home stretch.  Love those evergreens.

Arrival in Spokane; trip accomplished. Time to enjoy the weekend with my daughter.

When a House Becomes a Home

This weekend my son and his wife (C and H) moved into their first home. The relief was palpable on Friday when the key to the property was in hand, the loan funded, and the angst of six long weeks of on-again-off again delays finally behind them.  Closing on a house seems to stress the nerves to the max, rocketing the need for patience to extraordinary levels, pushing every button and pulling on the heartstrings at the same time. This particular home sale frustrated our young couple and their loved ones beyond belief , dragging on endlessly.  But, perseverance  paid off. After many false starts and changes to the moving plans, this past weekend was perfect in all regards. Great weather, plenty of help, and joy mixed with relief. 

The New House

By Saturday late morning there were four parents and a brother recruited to help with the offer of supportive advice, encouragement, and muscle power.  An army of young, energetic high school kids hit the scene even earlier to tackle the heavier physical stuff; packing and moving boxes of clothing, kitchenware, and furniture. Add to that at least three more strong guys with a van and pick up truck and you've got a band of MOVERS. Even the king size mattress came down a flight of stairs at the rental house and then up the stairs of the new home, muscled all the way by enthusiastic help. It was a sight to behold.

 The house is great; wonderful floor plan, roomy, and inviting. The surroundings are lush with green foliage, including a bank of evergreen extending from the back yard to the end of their property line which is shaped like a piece of pie with the deep point extending into the woods. The house abuts a greenbelt which will remain just that....green, like private forest. I kidded that one could easily pitch a tent up on that hill behind the house and call the adventure a camping trip with benefits (kitchen and bathroom close by). Wild and wonderful; I'd love to live with the western sun peeping through that dense, living fence in summer when the long days can get a bit warm on the side of the setting sun.

Working people truly long for quick, energizing food after a morning's work. Four extra large pizzas bit the dust in no time along with soda and cookies to fuel the afternoon's labors. 

Another helper on her lunch break

cleaned and vacuumed

While the guys moved heavy stuff, changed locks, assembled beds and desks, Tina and I took on the vacated rental house several miles down the road. Prepared with Comet, sponges, paper towels and true grit we cleaned upstairs and down. I'm thinking we performed far more of a deep clean than required but, what the heck. Three hours later we were done and ready to close the door on that little adventure. We named ourselves the latest recruits to the Maid Brigade and posed for a photo with some of our cleaning gear and more fuel for the journey. Red Bull, as you can see.

I'm thinking we look pretty good, considering....

The guys on their end busted out the Rainier Beer to mark the (sort of) end to a long day.

And, perhaps the best shot of all.....good riddance to the For Sale sign. C and H; we are so proud of the new homeowners, barely in your mid twenties and off to a great start!

Mother's Day was Sweet

Memories

My kids rode this bus to and from King's School ten years ago. I took this picture several days ago as I trailed the bus and braked my car to let a student disembark. He was young, had a heavy backpack, and a hoodie.

Time keeps moving on.

Motherly Advice/Fatherly Advice Part II

Laura is considering a career move; we're encouraging her to stay with her current job for at least a year and go forward with her company's typical timetable for the end-of-year promotion. There's a "big test" involved but one she will master, hands down. How much better this will look on her resume than just turning her back on the opportunity no matter how frustrated you may be with the job as it is right now. This is strategy.

I've given her a couple of good analogies (I thought so anyway....).

1. Imagine yourself on a bridge. You won't be on it forever. You are moving forward and will get to the other side. Once you are there, you have so many options. Right now, don't jump off the bridge into air ; get on solid ground again where the pathways to what you want or where you want to go are endless.

2. Imagine what you're in right now is a class, an academic, for-credit class. You've paid the tuition, you've slaved away and have one more test to take; the final. Don't quit now. Take the exam and get credit for the course. Let your efforts find their rightful place on your transcript as a course COMPLETED (and done well at that).

I'm not sure this sunk in although past experience tells me it did or will. The number of times I've overheard her talking to her friends, quoting me in a favorable light as saying this, that, or the other reinforces the fact that she gets it, even if there is big push-back in the moment.

And her Dad?  Well, he keeps his email responses flowing to the on line job listings she forwards to him for review. In his inimitable wisdom, he analyzes and translates the lingo....yesterday's post was his first salvo; here is his next....

"Leads = they give you a phone book and you're on your own.
Flexible hours means no guaranteed salary.
If they have to tell you what you can do with all the money you will earn, then you will not earn enough money to do those things.
Another loser - give up the idea of insurance sales.  It's a real dud of a profession.

Can't wait to see you Wednesday!

Love ya,
DP"

We shall see. We shall see.

Fatherly Advice

The Dad to his daughter as she looks online for marketing/sales jobs......

"Pay close attention to key words and phrases:

"self starter" and "works independently" means you are on your own.

Excellent time management skills means you will be working your ass off.

Excellent phone skills means you will calling people all the time to try to sell them insurance.

Competitive spirit means you will have to love fighting for every sale you make over your competitors.

"ability to earn client trust" means you have to be able to suck clients into buying insurance.

I'm not saying these are bad things, but if you want to get out of the sales field, then this doesn't look like it would fit the bill.

As always, this is just my perspective, and I respect your ability to make whatever decisions you wish to make.

Love ya,

DP"

She's looking for a new job and it ain't easy. Fatherly advice is good.