Family
As a grandmother, I have been so very blessed. I have had the great pleasure and privilege of spending a lot of time with my grandchildren throughout their lives. Since my girls worked in one capacity or another, I transported the kids to sitters, school, etc.
When the kids were little, and with so many grandparents and great grandparents in their lives, they found it hard to figure out which name goes with which grandparent. And when the last names are long, it’s even harder. So they tried to figure out ways to distinguish one grandparent from another.
It’s funny, the things kids notice. Before long, I became known to my grandchildren as “Grandma Fingernail”, because my nails were always long and painted. Well, you can imagine my surprise when I heard that. It was so comical to me, and of course, it became quite the joke with my daughters and their husbands. The other grandparents might be Grandma in Denver, Papa in Denver, Grandma-Papa, Grandma Foxy, Papa Scruffy (Foxy and Scruffy are the dogs), or some such thing, but I was “Grandma Fingernail”. And it turns out, I kind of liked it.
My nails were a source of interest to my grandchildren…my granddaughter especially, but even the boys. They had to feel them, because of course they are long, unlike their own. They looked at them to see what color or design I might have on them this time, because I like to put flower stickers, or other design stickers on them. But it would be my granddaughter who would come up with the most interesting thing to say about my nails. She would check them carefully every time I saw her, and if they were in need of being painted, she would inform me. She would say, “Grandma, your fingernails are a meth…you better fixth them.” Of course, the translation is, “Grandma your fingernails are a mess…you better fix them.” That never failed to get a laugh, and then I would usually paint my nails…and hers.
Since Bob and I bowled from the time Amy was two years old, it just naturally followed the our girls would bowl on a league as kids. They started bowling when they were 5 years old. At that time, the league they were on needed a coach, so since I was there all the time anyway, I was elected. I took a class for 3 hours on a Saturday morning, and the deal was sealed.
We had some interesting moments during those early years. Corrie, had been bowling about a year when Amy started, and of course, she was an expert. One day she was bowling and doing ok, when she went up for her turn and threw her ball. It went into the gutter before it even got to the dots, much less the arrows on the lane. But, that didn’t make any difference to Corrie. She turned around and put her hands on her hips, looked me square in the eye, and said, “That should have been a strike!!” Do you think she was around bowlers much? Corrie would learn what really should have been a strike as time went on, but we laughed about that first use of bowling terminology for quite some time.
Amy had a little bit different experience however. She was pretty little at 5 years old, and isn’t very big now, but that’s another story. Her bowling ball weighed 6 pounds. 
The combination of the light ball and the little girl made it difficult for her ball to do what a bowling ball should do. It would fall in the gutter half way down the lane, and stop. Someone would have to go get it and bring it back for another try. It was frustrating to her. One day, another coach who was helping, decided on the solution. He picked Amy up…ball and all, walked down the lane until she was about a foot in front of the pins, set her down and said, “Now hit ’em!” And she did. Amy would continue to struggle with the ball speed for some time, even having the pins stop the ball, but today she has made up for it. She throws one of the fastest bowling balls around.
Though she has definitely outgrown that stage, my younger daughter, Amy, was every bit a blond when she was little. She was forgetful and lost things we never found…in her room!! But while she was pretty ditsy back then, she has turned into very capable, responsible young woman. That is not what my story is about, however. There are two stories about Amy that come to mind today.
When Amy learned to walk, she, like all kids, took those first tottering little steps…then within days, she decided that walking was just not for her!!! She ran from that time forward, which I might add, her son, Caalab, would follow in later on. She was always in a hurry. And it didn’t take her long to find another interesting way to speed things up in the area of transportation. Yes, I know what you are thinking, behind the wheel of a car…right? Well, you’re wrong. Amy decided that it took too long to walk down the hallway. Or maybe it just wasn’t enough fun. Just as soon as she figured out how, her chosen method of getting down the hallway was to somersault!! From the moment she started that, until she was in about third grade, I don’t think she ever walked down the hall. It was entertaining, to say the least.
But, on an even funnier note…one day when Amy was 2 years old and learning to dress herself, she gathered up the clothes she wanted to wear and brought them into the kitchen to get dressed. She was doing pretty good with it. Everything was going on the right way, right side out, front in the right place, and so forth. I was proud of her for doing such a good job.
Then she started looking around. Under the table, on top of the table, behind her…obviously she thought she brought something from her bedroom that she couldn’t find. So I said, “What are you looking for?” To which she answered, “My shirt!!” Try as I might, I just couldn’t help but laugh!!! I said, “Amy!!! You have it on!!” She looked down…very shocked, I might add, and said, “Oh, hahahahahahaha!!!”
Never a dull moment in our house…lol!!
Few things are more exciting in the life of a young child than the day they lose their first tooth. Everyone knows what comes next. The tooth is placed in a glass of water, or under a pillow, and the child tries really hard to go to sleep, because they know that in the morning, there will be money, and sometimes gum, in place of the tooth that was lost.
I will never forget the day my oldest daughter, Corrie lost her first tooth. The tooth had been loose for a while, and she wiggled it constantly. She wanted it to come out so badly. For days that was all she thought about, and all we heard about.
Then one night…in the middle of the night, I awoke to Corrie screaming. Now when you come out of a deep sleep to a child screaming…and I mean a blood curdling scream…it can be hard to get your bearings. I tried sleepily to figure out what was wrong, thinking she had a bad dream. She screamed, “I’m bleeding” and showed me her mouth.
Ok, I was awake, and my mind had it all back together again. we rinsed out her mouth and I looked to see if the tooth was loose enough to pull it out. I tried to get a hold of it, and couldn’t. I said that it just wasn’t quite ready yet. Corrie said, “Just push it Mom!” And with that, she pushed the tooth toward her tongue, and out it came. I couldn’t believe that my 5 year old knew more about how to get her first tooth out, than I did.
Corrie’s teeth never presented any problems. She would go on the “push” them out easily as each became loose enough. Her sister, Amy’s teeth…well, that is another story.
When I first met Travis, the man who would become my younger son-in-law, he was still a boy in high school. He would tell me later that he was the class clown, which I would say I have to believe. Travis doesn’t even have to think about saying funny things. They just flow out if him. I don’t mean to say that Travis has nothing serious to say, because he does. He is a hard working man, who is dedicated to his family. He has been a good husband to my daughter, Amy, and father to their children, and in the 16 years that they have been married, he has brought much joy to our lives.
But, one of his favorite things to do is to laugh and make others laugh, and that isn’t a bad thing. I marvel at his quick wit. I have often noticed, when I would stop by their house, that he seems to have the kids giggling a lot about some little thing he said or did. He can take just about any situation and make it funny. There is a lot to be said for having a home filled with laughter. It is something we should all strive to have. That is a trait he has also passed down to my grandson, Caalab. They are always goofing off and teasing anyone who happens to cross their path…usually Caalab’s sister, Shai. Yikes!!
Travis is also a talented musician, and plays in a band. Now mind you, I’m a country music fan myself, so the music he plays is not exactly my style, but I am proud of what he has accomplished. He is truly a man of many talents. He’s program director, DJ, advertising voice for commercials…basically jack of all trades for the local radio station, a job which is perfect for his personality.
Today is Travis’ birthday, and I’m quite sure it will be a day filled with joking. Maybe…just maybe today, someone will pull a good one on him. Happy birthday Travis!!
Today is May Day. Most people think of it as just the first day in May, but to me it has a different memory. It goes back to when I was a little girl, and a tradition that my mom taught us and continued until she didn’t drive anymore.
Every May Day, my mom would help us, her 5 daughters, to make May baskets. We used construction paper to create beautiful and unique baskets. We decorated then with hearts and flowers. Then we filled them with candy. We were ready.
The fun was about to begin. We would take the baskets to the neighbor’s houses, and hang them on the door knob. Then, we knocked on the door and ran to hide. The neighbor had to come and try to find out who left the basket. We would try our very hardest not to get caught. Part of the fun was receiving the candy from a secret friend.
These days no one I know does May baskets anymore. And people don’t dare trust candy unless they know for sure who gave it, so if we did, we would have to make sure they found us. I guess May baskets, like so many other traditions, will live only in my memories now. Sad isn’t it that so much has changed in our world.
When our children are little, they are so easy to please. A ball and a wading pool made for hours of fun, and at that time, usually cost under $10.00, so they were affordable on any budget. The girls loved playing in the pool on a hot summer day, and I could sit in my chase lounge and read a book. Those were wonderful, lazy summer days.
Of course, in those days, any video games that were available were expensive and primitive. We got one when they were a little older, but unlike the kids today who seem to be born with technology in their hands, the girls used their imaginations. I’m not saying that technology is a bad thing, since I’m a big techy too, just that it wasn’t as easy to come by back then.
My girls, like kids today as well, played in boxes, because they could imagine it was a fort or some such thing. They had Cabbage Patch dolls, and played house. They and their friends played tea party and dress up. They loved playing in a sand box, making little cities or building sand castles.
The technology we have today is amazing. You can look up on the internet whatever you can imagine in your mind. The games kids play become more and more graphic. Murder and crime don’t phase our kids anymore, because they have seen it all on a game. Sometimes we can’t even relate to a tragic event, because it looks so much like the fantacy world we have watched on television. I sometimes wonder if the criminals and terrorists get some of their ideas directly from television and video games. I’m not saying that technology is bad, just that it takes away a precious commodity from our kids sometimes…imagination.
Imagine a world where nothing really makes sense to you anymore. Things just don’t add up. Try as you might, you can’t figure it out. You don’t remember what you did today, or yesterday…so you make things up that seem to fall in line with things you used to do. Still, nothing really makes sense, but you are sure that you remember doing that recently. This is Alzheimer’s, and my mother-in-law has it. She is 80 years old, but she would tell you that she is 65, because she doesn’t remember differently.
I spent yesterday afternoon and evening at the hospital with her for some other potentially serious health issues, and it was so hard, because she doesn’t know what is going on or why. It doesn’t do any good to tell her, because she won’t remember what you told her 10 minutes ago. When the blood pressure cuff would start to check her blood pressure, she always seemed shocked that it hurt, and wanted me to take it off. I guess that is a blessing in disguise in that she also doesn’t remember any other pain that she is in once the spasm, poke, or prod is over. She kept picking at the IV needles and their bandages. And she couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t bring her any supper. I’m sure she thought this was the worst hotel she had ever stayed in. In fact, she told me she wasn’t staying at all.
Probably the most heart wrenching part of Alzheimer’s is the fact that while the patient doesn’t remember much of the things they should, the one thing that seems very clear to them, is the fact that this whole thing just isn’t right! I can’t count the number of times that she has look at one of us and said, “What’s wrong with me?” Few things tear you up more that to have someone say that to you and you just don’t know what to tell them. And even worse, is the fact that they will ask you again in 10 minutes.
Thankfully, she still knows most of her family…the ones that are around her often, that is. There are some that she never asks about, because they live too far away and don’t come often, but the good news on that is that she doesn’t know that she doesn’t know them, or know that they don’t come around. It’s hard to feel hurt about that when you don’t know that they even exist. Personally, I feel sorry for those people, because regret will come later for them, when there is nothing they can do about it. I will say, that if you know someone with Alzheimer’s, do yourself a favor, and be around for them, you will never regret it. There is great blessing in being someone they do remember.
We still don’t know for sure what else is going on with her. More tests today will help determine that, and it is with a degree of dread that we move into the day. No matter what is found, we will do what we can do for her, and keep her comfortable as much as possible. Please keep her in prayers as you go through your day today. Your prayers will be much appreciated.
Today is my Dad’s birthday. He would have been 87 years old today, and I really wish he was here to celebrate the day. I miss him so very much. This day feels so empty now. He was such an amazing man. And he lived such a full life. I am so blessed to have had him for my dad. He was the best dad in the world.
My dad was born in Superior, Wisconsin, the third of four children of my grandparents Allen Luther Spencer and Anna Louise (Schumacher) Spencer. Dad was a happy-go-lucky kid with a great sense of humor. My Uncle Bill told me of some of the funny things his little brother did, like falling asleep standing up while they were playing on the wood pile. And the two of them pulling the many pranks they pulled together. I was told years ago of a time when he had been told several times, like most kids are, not to rock back in his chair, and when it fell, my grandmother said, “Zo, du bist a okaman!” Which is to say, “So, you are a big man!” Well, maybe not then Grandma, but to all who knew him…yes, he was!!
To me and my sisters, however he was Dad. He brought much laughter into our lives with his wit. Dad loved a good joke. I remember many a time that he would pull some prank on us and then laugh with total delight when his joke went off as planned. I remember his delighted laugh so well that I can still hear it very clearly. But, he was also, our hero. He held off the lions and bears…or at least kept them out of camp, by being so brave and putting another log on the fire so we were safe. He protected us from any unforeseen monster…especially moths…which our child’s minds could concoct. He just always had the answer, or the muscle to take care of whatever needed taking care of. He was our hero.
Like so many other things about my dad that feel like they happened only yesterday. Dad was truly the last of the true gentlemen. He carried himself with a dignity that you don’t see anymore. My mom was treated like a princess. That is just how Dad was. He loved her with all his heart, and it showed in all he did. He and my mom had a beautiful marriage, and Mom misses him terribly. He made all of “his girls” feel so special, and since he and my mom had five daughters…no sons…he got to have six of “his girls” and he treated us all like his little princesses. We were all so blessed.
Dad showed us and taught us the important things in life. He wasn’t a showy man, he was a solid, grounded man with unquestionable values and solid faith. The values he taught us will live inside us forever. He loved having his kids and grandkids around him, and what a blessing that was. He always had time for us. He helped with homework, played, and led us in the ways we should go. He and my mom made sure we were raised to know and have a personal relationship with God, and let us know in no uncertain terms, that he disapproved when we missed church. His values are still strong in his children today. And he was a capable man. He always knew how to find a solution to our problems
. We always knew we could go to him and he would know what to do. He always had a way to fix whatever seemed to have gone wrong.
He served his country willingly, and his military record is exemplary. He told us a few stories from the war, but he never thought himself a hero…in any capacity. On that matter, he was wrong. My dad was very much a hero…in every area of his life, but mostly to his family. He was a great man. My sisters, my mom, his grandchildren and great grandchildren, many friends and other family members, and I miss him terribly!! Happy birthday Daddy!! We all love you very much!!
So many things that were popular items when I was young and when my kids were young, are now coming back into style. When you are young, you think that the things that are the “newest and hottest” of the day have never been seen before, and sometimes that is true. Computer technology and other such technological items, are probably totally new and your grandparents or more likely your great grandparents had no idea they could exist.
Other things don’t work quite the same way. Fashion is something that really is a “what goes around comes around” item. In my lifetime I have seen the mini, midi, and maxi skirts. I’ve worn big bell, boot cut, straight leg and skinny jeans. Of course, there are hot pants, short shorts, knee length shorts, and Capris, or as we called them when I was little…Petal Pushers. Many of these items will sound familiar to you, as they are still in style or back in style. I suppose it would be hard to continually come up with clothing styles that have never been used before. So they add new prints or colors and present as new, an old style, and every young person thinks, “Wow, this is totally cool and unique!!” But, we know that they are simply recycled, and I remember the days.
This recycling of the old that is presented as new doesn’t stop with fashion. Toys seem to have the same life cycle. Remember the Cabbage Patch Dolls and Strawberry Shortcake. Some toys are always in style, like GI Joe, and Hot Wheels, but some like Cabbage Patch Dolls and Strawberry Shortcake have been archived for a time, only to be pulled out of the box, dusted off, and presented to a whole new group of excited kids. I remember Corrie and Amy and their Cabbage Patch Dolls. They were delighted with them, so when they came back, it was even exciting to me! It doesn’t get better than that for a toy…does it?
Everyone who has been around a while can say that they have seen or used something that went out of style, and now has come back. We know the excitement in the eyes of our kids, while being able to think, “Oh yes, I remember the days!”
