My Mom

My mom is a funny, kind and generous lady. And I mean she is a LADY. She was brought up in the old-fashioned, somewhat Victorian way...with a French grandmere living in her home, two parents and (as she puts it, with mild disdain), "Hot and cold running servants." That's a bit of an exaggeration, but they did have live-in help.

My mom is the kind of mother who brings something for us EVERY SINGLE TIME she visits our house. Sometimes, it's newspaper clippings, such as this (one of my favorites, which has been on our refrigerator door for YEARS - hence the stains):

"It's for you, Honey...looks like something from your parents."

or this one, which she brought a few weeks ago:

She also brought chocolate truffles, a cartoon for David and a check to help pay for quilt materials (for Katie's Comforters Guild). She is the kind of person who writes a "thank-you" note to me for having her and my dad over for dinner.

Mom is one of the most loyal, supportive cheerleaders in my life. She always tries to make things FUN, and she is always on my side. ALWAYS.

When we were small children, we didn't have a lot of money. But my mom seemed to be able to find funds to buy sweet little presents for us...things from the dime-store that would delight a child, such as a tiny, plastic tea set, with miniature plates, cups, silverware and teapot. I can still recall my delight at receiving one of these presents...usually for no special reason.

I'm the youngest of three, so I was the last one to go to school. Before I was in kindergarden, she used to take me out to lunch at Newberry's, where we would sit at the counter, and I would have a hot dog and a grape soda from that machine that continuously circulates the liquid. Remember those? Or we would go to Frederick and Nelson's department store - when I was much too young to be good company - and have lunch in the Rhododendron Room, which was painted with - you guessed it- rhododendrons. She would let me order my favorite meal: chicken rice soup, and Olympic Berry sherbet for dessert. Then we would visit the bakery and buy some teddy bear cookies for my brother and sister - and I would have one on the way home.

One of my favorite "Mom" stories is of the time she saved my life. I was taking swimming lessons, and the moms used to sit on the sidelines of the pool, watching us. There was a large boy in my class, who was a bully. One day, while I was playing in the shallow part of the pool, he got on my back and held my head under the water. I struggled with him, but he was too strong for me, and I began to lose consciousness. At just that moment, he "flew" off of me, because my mother had jumped in the pool, and yanked him off. As I recall, she was wearing a dress at the time. I love that in a woman.

Then there is the time that she dropped me off at nursery school, late, on the day of a field trip, but I won't tell that one here. I had an adventure, a long, healthful walk, and it all turned out fine.

My mom went to Stanford University, and is very, very quick and smart. She can make withering comments, but is also very caring. She loves to learn new things. She was baptized after she became a grandmother. If I ask her to pray for me, she is always happy to do it. She is not athletic, but she likes to watch Stanford's football team, and she discovered that she likes to watch baseball. She does not ride a bicycle. She loves to walk on the beach.

When my mom left college and home to get married at 19, she moved with my dad into a very modest one-bedroom apartment, which she had to learn how to clean...for the first time in her life. The girl who had been driven to school by a chauffeur (she insisted that he let her off a few blocks away, so she wouldn't be teased) learned to drive a car. She helped my dad build their cabin (above), when neither of them knew a thing about building. They did it together, with the help of their neighbor (who was a carpenter), and that cabin became her favorite place in the world. It was the first home they ever owned. She learned to fish and cook.

Whoops! I know, I shouldn't have, but I LOVE that photo! They built that fireplace together.

There:  now you can see her in her "glam" mode. That dress is still in style; I have it now.

She was my matron of honor when I married Gregg.

She is the best grandmother anyone could ask for. Always interested in their stories, laughing at their jokes, giving presents that delight, buying their favorite foods for them, playing cards or reading with them.

Mom passed her love of all things French on to us. She shared her love for art and beauty, quality and whimsy; her passion for the beach, her reverence for education and good thinking, for God and honor. She is unpretentious, and not materialistic in any way. She doesn't like to have her picture taken. She is strong-minded, and a survivor.

I love my mom. Happy Birthday, Miss Ellie!

Norwegian Rules and Happy Thanksgiving

Poulsbo was originally settled by Norwegians, and it still is very Norwegian in culture and population, so I thought you'd appreciate this tidbit of wisdom that I found in a local store. I think Gregg was raised with exactly these rules.

Things are BUSY around here, so I'm not getting to visit, read and comment on all of my blog-peeps' writings. I love & miss y'all. I'm working on Katie's Comforters Guild and book research, so it's a good kind of busy*ness, but I miss keeping up with you.
David turns 17 tomorrow, and my mom turns ?? on Sunday (I can't say, but here's a hint: she was 60 when David was born). A Happy Birthday shout-out to Laurie Keller on Sunday, too!

A Happy and Blessed Thanksgiving to you and your loved ones. May you experience true love and peace as you gather around whatever food you share, with whomever you share it. May Our Father "give us this day our daily bread."

Blissfully Domestic

I can't remember how I learned about the website called Blissfully Domestic. It's a site that features many subjects that interest me, and I enjoy its content and its writers' ideas.

Recently, I wrote to the editor and asked if they might like to publish an article about Katie's Comforters Guild. I sent a little bit of information about Katie and our experiences, and received a lovely and encouraging email in return. So I wrote the piece, sent it in, and this morning, the article was posted:
http://blissfullydomestic.com/2009/a-small-act-with-a-big-impact

Thank you, Blissfully Domestic!

Been Busy, Been Gone

I’ve been away, and have lots of catching up to do with my blogging buddies. I hope you are all well. I will try to catch up with your writing soon!

On Veteran’s Day, we went to Seattle to see one of our favorite doctors from Children’s Hospital. You may recall that I’ve written about Dr. Tom, who was such a light and a tremendous support to us all through our time in the hospital, but particularly in our  first days with Katie in the ICU. David spent many happy hours with Dr. Tom and his family, skiing, last year.

Wednesday, David and I went on a hike with Dr. Tom, his lovely wife and their delightful twin boys. We had a picnic lunch beside the waters of Puget Sound, hiked through gorgeous woods and then returned to their house. David drove to retrieve Gregg after work, and brought him to the house, where we shared a delicious dinner with Dr. Tom’s family. We cherish this friendship.

The next day, we embarked on a trip to the eastern side of our state. The purpose of the trip was to visit two colleges, so that David could learn more about them, and to visit family members who live nearby.

Do you know much about Washington State? It has a lot of diversity within its boundaries, and the major dividing line is the Cascade Mountain range. I admire the eastern side of the state for its beauty and its gifts, but I don’t spend much time there. Being a water-lover, my home is in the west, beside the saltwater and the evergreens.

We headed east, driving over Snoqualmie Pass, and through the Yakima Valley, where I saw this billboard:
This statement is such a blatant distortion of the truth that we found it hilarious, and laughed out loud about it. Let me just say that, as someone who visits the Palm Springs area every year, there is NO connection between the two that I can find...other than the fact that both have a hot and dry climate.

Our first stop was in Walla Walla, a small, quaint town where some of my ancestors settled long ago, and built a mercantile business. We spent a night and an interesting day, hearing presentations at the school, and then drove north to Spokane, through flurries of snow, admiring beautiful rolling hills and the bright colors of the farmland.

People talk a lot about the "Washington Wine Country," and while I enjoy our wines, we have a long way to go in making the "wine tour" into all that it could be in the Pacific Northwest. There is a vast difference, for example, between driving from Yakima to Walla Walla, and driving through the northeastern wine country in France, from Strasbourg to Thann. How to put it? I think the French might be a bit shocked at the "rustic" quality of our wine country, at this point. But it has great potential!

In Spokane, David heard more college presentations and visited with friends who are attending school there; we took one of them out for lunch. Then we went to dinner at the home of our cousin, Kim, and his wife, Mary.

Kim is as close to Gregg as a brother; they are only a month apart in age, they grew up together, played on the same high school basketball team, and their mothers are sisters (and best friends). His mother is our Auntie Bernice.

It was on Kim’s father’s fishing boat that Gregg worked, and earned the money to put himself through college; it was with Kim that Gregg traveled in Europe after graduation. Kim is the one who told us, when we were wavering, that it was vitally important for us to hold a memorial service for Katie – and it was Kim who offered to deliver her eulogy. He did a beautiful job, and we will be forever grateful to him for his tenderness and strength in supporting us in that horrible time.

Kim is about 6’4” tall. He has very broad shoulders and a bit of a fiery temperament. He's mellower now; he says that Gregg was a calming influence on him throughout their growing years, and that Gregg kept him out of a fight, more than once.

It was a joy to visit Kim and Mary in their beautiful home, to break bread together, watch the Gonzaga Bulldogs play basketball, and talk about everything under the sun.

Since this was a college-visiting trip, Kim and Mary put the “full court press” on David to choose a college in their town. It was sweet and funny to hear the “campaign,” and will be interesting to see what David decides. He has one more college to visit. Gregg and I are standing back, supporting him, but allowing him to decide for himself. It’s such a privilege and a joy to be with him this year as he visits these fine schools.

I am more aware than ever what a gift a college education is. I am deeply thankful to my parents for providing for mine!

Aloha - A Luau - Addition

One important addition to the "Aloha - A Luau" story: check out this link to Paul Dudley's blog. It's a great moment (be sure you turn up the sound) - you'll get to hear what Codi has to say.
Love and prayers for Codi and her family!

Aloha - A Luau

Last weekend, we were privileged to attend a very special party. It was a Luau, which was an item on the lifetime-wish-list of a wonderful young lady, Codi, who is currently being treated for her 4th ocurrence of cancer. If you were to look up “courage” in the dictionary, her photo ought to be there, right next to the definition. She is beautiful in a luminous and deep way. She reminded me of Katie, because the rigors of cancer treatment have not dimmed that beauty at all.

If you are a reader of my blog, you will know that my family and I are great fans of the American Cancer Society’s Camp Goodtimes West, on Vashon Island. Our children attended this camp, just weeks before Katie’s relapse, and it was a very important gift to them, and to us.

The camp staff are a wonderful group of young people, committed to making sure that cancer patients, their siblings, and former cancer patients all have a fabulous time, just being KIDS. They experience 6 days of fun, games, camaraderie, sports, a dance, skits, a carnival, a cruise and just “hanging out,” enjoying camp activities. There are nurses and an oncologist on staff, right on site. Having cancer does not prevent - or interfere greatly with - the fun at camp. For a brief time, kids can simply be one of the gang – instead of being so very different from other kids, because of their illness (and the worries and trials that it brings).

Katie was interviewed by the local paper while she was a camper at Camp Goodtimes West, and she told the reporter that she liked it there because people didn’t judge others if they had scars or an NG (nasogastric) tube (which she had). It was a place of acceptance. What a gift to a pre-teenager, whose life and appearance had been so altered by surgery and chemotherapy!

Back to the party:  Codi has made a “Bucket List,” a list of things that she wants to be sure she accomplishes in her lifetime. One thing on her list was to attend a luau. She isn’t well enough to take a flight to Hawaii, so some wonderful friends from Camp Goodtimes decided to make the luau happen for her, here, in Washington State!

Hawaiian musicians and dancers came and sang traditional songs, danced the hula and taught a dance.

Friends gathered and brought food and drink.

Caring relatives & friends sent leis and decorations from Hawaii and other places.  

People dressed in Hawaiian-style attire, and music played all evening.

Photos were taken; camp friends Skyped from other parts of the country, joining the fun.

See the "rabbit ears" on the computer screen behind Codi? That's one of her camp counselors, Skyping from the other coast!

There was laughter; there was singing of camp songs.  There were "jazz hands."

There was celebration of friendship, and new friendships were made.

At the Luau, we learned from one of the Hawaiian ladies the meaning of “Aloha.” It is deeper than just “Hello” or “Goodbye.” The “ha” part of the word means “life.” So, we were told, when the greeting is exchanged, forehead touches forehead, and thus, we breathe life into one another, and we celebrate life.

It was a perfect gift for the occasion.

At one point, our host took the microphone, and pointed out that, although this luau was on Codi’s "Bucket List," and was arranged as a surprise for her, in fact, she had given all of us a gift in being able to share the luau with her. Her idea was a blessing to all of us, including the Hawaiian musicians and dancers who had never met her before, who learned about Camp Goodtimes West and its wonderful, supportive, loving, fun community.

Then Codi asked for the microphone. Our host brought it to her, where she sat in her wheelchair. She said she had one thing to say to all of us:  “Aloha.”

Another item on Codi’s list is to help a complete stranger. She can check that wish off, too: she surely helped us, and changed our lives for the better, at the luau. I’m thankful to have been part of the party. 

Aloha and God bless you, Codi and your family! May you achieve your dreams, including remission from cancer!

You can also read this posting at Hopeful Parents. 

Photos courtesy of Paul Dudley (in the orange shirt, above); you can read more about the party on his blog. He and his wonderful wife, Heidi, were our hosts.

Seafaring Imagery

"You are leaving port under sealed orders and in a troubled period.

You cannot know whither you are going or what you are to do. But why not take the Pilot on board who knows the nature of your sealed orders from the outset, and who will shape your entire voyage accordingly? He knows the shoals and the sandbanks, the rocks and the reefs, He will steer you safely into that celestial harbor where your anchor will be cast for eternity. Let His mighty nail-pierced hands hold the wheel, and you will be safe."  

  - Peter Marshall (1902-1949), "John Doe, Disciple: sermons for the young in spirit"

I loved reading about Peter Marshall in his wife, Catherine's, books. He sounded like a man of conscience, a loving and good man, and a trustworthy pastor.

His seafaring imagery appeals to me, though I don't interpret "you will be safe" to mean what it once meant, to me. It no longer promises, You will be protected from danger, storms will not arise and bad things will not happen to you. It now indicates something like, You will have guidance, you will have help, whatever may come.

Reading the words, "He will steer you safely into that celestial harbor where your anchor will be cast for eternity" suggests to me that I am going that place, with His guidance - no matter what happens between now and then. God's love for me, His act of creating me, and my love for God assure me that I am His. He will take me home, eventually. Until then, I am here in my temporary home, to learn what He has to teach me and to be prepared for my eternal home. Katie is there, now; how passionately I look forward to seeing her! We walked her home, and my heart tells me that now, she is waiting for us there. She told me that it would be so, just days before she died; I am counting on it.

November Sunrise

This morning, the sky looked like this:

View Full Album

which turned into this

View Full Album

later on.

I thought I’d share the view with you, before the “monsoon” season starts.

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween to you!

View Full Album

Gregg was a skier for Halloween this year. Sort of.

Actually, he picked up his new skis and boots at the sports store. Then we went out for a beer and a bite to eat. Gregg tried on his skis and boots at home, and David took photos.

They are both getting pretty excited for ski season to start. The new Warren Miller ski movie is coming to our area in two weeks, and then it will be officially “game on!” for skiers. It's beautiful to see the Olympic mountains with their first dusting of snow of the season. I’m so glad that David and Gregg are going to be able to enjoy this sport together. It’s a thrill for David, and Gregg hasn’t bought new skis for YEARS…as in 30 years. So it should be really fun for them.

View Full Album

And me...I was a cat-lover for Halloween. But, then, I’m a cat-lover every day, so it’s not much of a costume. Just add Latte and Liger!

I hope you had a happy Halloween. Remember to FALL BACK tonight!

Highway Robbery

I have one of these.  I think it’s a 2002 model.




Two of these came with it.

 I just learned that this gadget is called  a “Transponder Key.”

We need a third key for our third driver.

If you want a new transponder key, it will cost you roughly $100.00 at the dealership. You can’t have them copied at the hardware store, like you can with your house key. This is because there is some kind of fancy computer chip in the key. The car won’t start without this special chip-in-key.

Old car + new key = $100.00 dollars, GONE. Just to be able to get in and start the bl**dy thing.

I call that “highway robbery.”

Violation

"To the individual believer indwelt by the Holy Spirit there is granted the direct impression of the Spirit of God on the spirit of an individual, imparting the knowledge of His will in matters of the smallest and greatest importance. This has to be sought and waited for."  - G. Campbell Morgan

When I read this quote this morning, my thoughts immediately went to a Christian Science practitioner I knew when I was younger. He was a close friend of our family. I don't talk about him much, because what he did is of no great importance to me anymore - especially in light of what happened to Katie - but this quote brought him to mind.

He was the man who molested me, when I was a child. My brother and I went on camping trips with him, as did the children of other members of our church. His name was John Grant, and he was a famous horticulture expert before he became a full-time practitioner, teacher and lecturer in the Christian Science church. He was raised in Shanghai, China, by missionary parents. He had a deep voice and a British accent, and spoke with great authority and gravitas, as if he believed he was an oracle of the Word of God - or wanted his audience to believe it.

I confided in my parents about the abuse when I was about 9 years old. I never confronted him. I could hardly bear looking at him. The thought of standing up in court to face him, even as an adult, was too terrifying to me.

I know of two other victims. The church refuses to acknowledge this, though they have heard from the three of us.

He died in a wildfire that swept the hills of Oakland, California, in 1991. I was told that he and his wife stayed in their house, trying to keep it safe by spraying it with water from their garden hoses. It was a huge, consuming fire. When I heard about it, my first feeling was awe. My first thought was, "Yep." It still amazes me. I'm not glad that he and his wife died what was surely an agonizing death, but I am not sorry he's gone, either.

I wonder if he sought and waited for "the direct impression of the Spirit of God." Looking at his behavior, I doubt it. I wonder if it would have stopped him, or led him to treatment, or healed him of the desire to molest small children. I don't know anything about the inside of his mind and heart. I just don't see God's impression in his actions - I see manipulation, violation and control.

One of the interesting side effects of having been molested is that I have a heightened sensitivity to creepy vibes in men. I cannot explain this, and it's possible that I've been wrong sometimes, but I know that I feel it, almost like an aura, around some men. I steer far clear of them, without apology.

Before Katie got sick, I was working through some of the after-effects of the molestation. The actress Teri Hatcher wrote an article in 2006 in Vanity Fair magazine about her experience of sexual abuse as a child, and it brought a lot of feelings to the surface in me. I realized that it was HIS problem, not mine. I made a collage and wrote a poem (above), and that helped me to "clear the air" inside of me. Getting it out in visual form felt good; I would recommend such "art therapy."  When Katie was diagnosed with cancer, this part of my past became a very small and insignificant thing, in comparison to what she was suffering.

"...comfort yourself with Him, who is the only Physician of all our maladies. He is the FATHER of the afflicted, always ready to help us. He loves us infinitely more than we imagine: love Him then, and seek not consolation elsewhere: I hope you will soon receive it."   - "The Practice of the Presence of God," by Brother Lawrence

That quote gives an impression of the Spirit of God. I'm thankful that there are many good-hearted prophets and spiritual mentors in the world who bear His image.

Motorboat, Motorboat

One of the greatest sounds on earth, for me, is the sound of a cat purring. It never fails to make me happy.

When Latte and Liger are ecstatically happy, their purring sounds like our outboard motor, set on idle, in calm water. I LOVE that sound.

(The outboard motor I am talking about is in the photo above.)

This is one reason why I am a cat-person. Dogs have wonderful qualities, but barking vs. purring? I'm going with the motorboat.

[Lest you dog-lovers feel slighted, there is no need. Our friend Joanne came over the other night with her awesome Corgi (named Beamer). Beamer walked right into the house, and we gave him snacks; he did tricks and sat on the couch with me. And Beverly (Karyn's Yorkie from NY) came for a visit, and had snacks AND used her potty-mat, in our house. We like dogs; we LOVE cats.]

Good News for Katie's Comforters Guild

Be sure to check out the news at Katie's Comforters Guild's Blog.

Snowbirds

View Full Album

One of my favorite things about my parents is the fact that they have the ability to be silly. Very silly. You can see what I mean in these photos.

My dad was in theatre when he was a young man, and he was a disc jockey, too. He has a natural penchant for the dramatic, and especially for humor. My mom laughs more easily than any other person I know. They are both quick-witted, and are a match made in heaven.

Mom and Dad came over last night. They are “snowbirds,” and are flying south for the winter today. We traditionally have them over for dinner on the night before they depart, so that they don’t have to keep any food in the refrigerator, or go to any trouble on their last night at home. We call this dinner (with no disrespect to anyone) the last supper.

David was the photographer last night, during the cocktail hour, and these are his photos.

Bon Voyage, Snowbirds! We love you and are looking forward to seeing you soon!