sisters
In April of 1993, my sisters, Cheryl Masterson, Alena Stevens, Allyn Hadlock, and I took a trip to the Seattle, Washington area where our sister, Caryl Reed and her family were living at the time. I had not been there before, and so was excited at the prospect. We planned to have dinner at the Space Needle, do some shopping, visit Friday Harbor, and the one I was most looking forward to, Mount Saint Helens. Since the mountain had blown up on May 18, 1980, I had been intrigued. My parents had gone there, but I was married and so didn’t go along. On that trip, because the roads there didn’t open until May, and this was April, the viewing of Mount Saint Helens was not to be, unfortunately. I was disappointed.
I will never forget hearing about the coming eruption in the news, on March 15, 1980. When we first heard about it, people were riveted to their televisions, but as time went on, I suspect that people got bored with it. After two months, it got to the point where we all wondered if it was just a false alarm. Then, at 8:32am Pacific Time on May 18, 1980, the mountain blew up…literally. Suddenly, everyone was riveted to the television again. It was just shocking, and since 9-11 had not happened yet, it seemed like the most shocking thing we had ever experienced…in my lifetime anyway. I remember going out to my car and finding ash all over it. I had a hard time believing that a volcano that was over a thousand miles away in Washington state, could dump ash on my 
car in Casper, Wyoming. The ash went completely around the globe within a matter of days. Of course, it was nothing like what they had in the area surrounding the mountain.
When my daughter, Amy Royce and her husband Travis and son, Caalab moved to the Seattle area, and then decided to renew their vows, we decided to make the trip up for the ceremony. I wanted another chance to get to see Mount Saint Helens. My first attempt was thirteen years after the eruption, and that attempt was twenty two years ago. It was time. We had a rather small window of time to go see the mountain, with everything that has been planned at Amy’s house. So, Thursday was the day. Unfortunately, we seem to have picked the worst day of the days we would be here. Nevertheless, we went in the hope of a view of the…for me anyway…elusive Mount Saint Helens. Our grandchildren, Shai and Caalab Royce went with us. They were born well after Mount Saint Helens blew, and really knew very little about it…until today, that is.
Our first stop was to the visitors center, where we looked at the exhibits displayed there and watched a really good movie that told of the events leading up to and including May 18, 1980 and beyond. After we left, I think 
they had a much better idea about the magnitude of the whole event. We drove up to the area where we could finally view the mountain itself, only to find it sitting right there in front of us…completely shrouded in clouds and mist. We could see where the ash had landed and where the water and mud had carved out deep crevasses. We could see where erosion had taken its toll on the area, and where trees had been wiped out, and now rather small ones have grown up in their place. We could see the base of the mountain, and really, almost half way up it, but the now famous space left when the top that is no longer there blew, was still not visible to me. Sadly, I guess some things are simply not meant to be.
My grand niece, Aleesia Spethman is a child who can steal your heart. She has a smile that can light up your whole day. Aleesia has spent a lot of her life posing for pictures for her parents, so now, when someone pulls out a camera, she automatically goes into pose mode. Aleesia is such a girlie girl, and when I think of her, the word princess comes to mind. She loves to dance around the room. She loves all things bling…from nail polish to back packs that light up. She likes things that catch the eye. At three years of age, she already knows so much about who she is and who she wants to be. No, I’m not saying that she already knows what career she will choose, but she knows what kind of girl she is, and that it’s ok to blend girly with tomboy.
Now, just because Aleesia is a girly girl, does not mean that she can’t keep up with the boys. You can’t be born the baby girl in a family with three boys, and not figure out how to handle yourself around those boys. Aleesia can easily rough house with her brothers, Xander, Zack, and Isaac at one moment, and then totally turn around and run things like a queen. Even though her brothers are older than her, Aleesia is definitely the boss when it comes right down to it. Quite possibly that is because Xander, Zack, and Isaac love their sister so much, and they are so protective of her. I suppose that they let her run the show to some degree, but it’s only because they love her so much.
If there is an area where Aleesia is just like any other three year old child, it is in the area of her cartoon choices. Aleesia loves Despicable Me. Minions are her favorite people. I had never really had a chance to watch Despicable Me, until Aleesia started spending Thursday evenings at my sister, Cheryl Masterson’s house. Cheryl is Aleesia’s grandma, so it stands to reason that she would be there at times. The rest of her family goes to an event in downtown Casper on Thursday nights, and it’s a lot of walking, which is not so easy for Aleesia, so she spends the evening with my sister and me, and sometimes, Cheryl’s daughters, Chantel Balcerzak and Liz Masterson, and granddaughter, Siara Harman. We have a really great girls night. We watch movies, and we have been scanning pictures…as well as just enjoying each others company. If Aleesia had her way, we would watch Despicable Me every night, and for the whole evening, but she is good about letting us have a say in the 
movie we watch, as long as Despicable Me is on sometimes. She just can’t get enough of that show.
Aleesia is the kind of girl who draws you into her world. She giggles, smiles, and laughs her way into your heart. She likes to pose, because she knows how cute she is…and yet she isn’t prissy. She is almost an actress, because she really knows how to play a part, and she knows how to capture an audience. She’s cute, and she knows it. Today is Aleesia’s 3rd birthday. Happy birthday Aleesia!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
When my sisters and I were kids, our parents had a movie camera, a projector, and a movie screen. They took a lot of home movies. It was as common then as it is now, but the technology has changed dramatically. Still, I don’t think that the home movies we have today are enjoyed in quite the same way as they were back then. When you have to set up a projector and screen, and then put them away afterward, watching home movies is a big production, and one that doesn’t happen often. It becomes a special occasion that kids will fight to stay awake for. These days, it is often one person watching on a computer screen or a television, and there just isn’t the same crowd to laugh at all the funny things.
That was exactly how it was in our family. When we talked Mom and Dad into watching home movies, we wanted to stay up and watch as many as we could in one night. Asking to watch “just one more” was not unheard of. For our youngest sister, Allyn Hadlock, staying up was a little more difficult than for the rest of us. Nevertheless, on one night in particular, she insisted that she could stay awake for the movie. Mom and Dad put the movie on the projector, and we started watching it. It wasn’t long before Allyn began to doze off. Dad tried to keep her awake, but it was no use. She was just too tired. Before long, Allyn was sound asleep. The movie was just too long. Of course, we all knew that Allyn was sleeping, and in a way it was funny, because she didn’t lay her head down or anything, but rather looked like she was watching the movie.
I’m not sure how much of the movie Allyn missed, but even when it was over, she did not wake up. We turned 
on the lights, but she didn’t move. Finally, it was time to wake her up, and when we did, she was quite startled. Someone was right there with the camera to record the humorous moment, and I must say that I’m glad they were. Kids do such silly stuff sometimes, and so often we forget to record the silliness. Later on, all we have is the story of the funny event, but nothing to really show how it happened, but in this case, we had the ammunition to tease Allyn for years to come. It is almost all the ammunition we have on her, becaue she never got into trouble..just ask us, we’ll tell you. Sometimes it is the goofy things we do as kids that are the most embarrassing. So, here’s to embarrassing moments. It is impossible to go through life without them, and Allyn just think, at least you didn’t fall asleep in school…that we know of.
Most of us have either sent or received a group text. Usually the reason is to get information to several people at once. The problem with a group text is that they usually start a series of group texts that, at some point will annoy at least one of the participants to the point that they ask that the group text move to another group that excludes them. Often this is because that participant is at work, or otherwise engaged, and the constant back and forth of a group text is interfering with whatever they are doing. While I understand the problems that group texts can cause, I have to say that such is not always the case.
In recent months, my sisters and I have carried on a series of group texts, that we all agree have been very fun. The texts might start as a way of passing information to the whole group, but before long, someone says something funny…usually teasing or picking on one of the other sisters, and the game is on. It’s all in good natured fun, and nobody gets upset, because we all know it’s just good natured fun, but then, that is the kind of relationship my sisters and I have. It is a blessing to be sure.
The texting often turns to teasing, as I said, and it is logical progression in our conversation, because after all, we have known each other all of our lives, and we have a lot of ammunition on each other. Good and bad ammunition. Nevertheless, our text play is never about seriously bad ammunition. We would rather tease about the goofy things we did as kids…with a little bit of “how did you manage to stay out of trouble, when I couldn’t” mixed in. Allyn Hadlock was the baby, and somehow never got into trouble…but then we all agree that she 
never did anything to get into trouble either…hence the Polly Purebred comment. Alena Stevens was the curiously mischievous one, and always seemed to be mixing up some concoction designed to make a mess. The rest of us, Cheryl Masterson, Caryl Reed, and I fell somewhere in the middle, but I was probably more mischievous than the others…or at the very least, more sassy!!
I know that many people get upset with group texts, and I understand that, but my sisters and I always look forward to them. We have laughed and reminisced through all these, and it has been not only healing, but I think if it is possible, we are even closer to each other than we were before, and for sisters who have always been close, that’s really saying something. I know that many people would still say that group texts are annoying, and to them I would just have to say that maybe they are texting the wrong crowd. Group texting with my sisters is a new adventure every single time we do it.
I know that many people took their film to get it developed right after finishing the roll, and my parents intended to do that too, but like me, life sometimes got in the way for them, and some things didn’t get done. With five daughters, I can see how that happened. In fact, I only had two daughters, and I still have some film that has never been developed. It is a sad truth, that I hate to admit…but truth it is, nevertheless. My best laid plans, somehow always seemed to get mixed up. I was glad when they came out with the Polaroid camera, because it developed the film instantly. My pictures finally had a chance of being seen by my family. It was a great improvement for me and, I’m sure for many other people too.
Be that as it may, sometimes there are in this world, hidden treasures, that you come across when you least expect it. That is what has happened for my sisters and me. The hidden treasures I am talking about, are not in the form of silver or gold, but rather in pictures. As we have gone through our parents things following our mother’s passing, we have come across many pictures. We have reminisced, laughed, and yes, cried too, as we have looked at these great treasures from our past. It has been a healing time, but there was also a treasure that was so hidden, that it had never been seen by human eyes. We came across roll after roll of undeveloped film…some of it almost sixty years old. When we looked at the rolls of film, we really expected that there would be nothing we could do to save them, and there may indeed be some that are lost forever, but we have been amazed at how many are fine, and in reality they are of really good quality.
We have been having a wonderful time looking over just the few that our sister, Alena Stevens has forwarded to us, until we can get together to see them all. It is such a wonderful gift, to be given a part of our childhood that while we may remember it, we have never seen it in pictures. It’s a trip down Memory Lane, except that many of the “memories” are completely new to us…previously unseen memories. How rare it is to be given such a gift…such a treasure. I suppose that in retrospect, it might have been better to have developed 
the pictures before, so our parents could have seen them too. Nevertheless, that did not happen, and in this way, it is like a special little present that our parents left us. It is like a secret plan that they had, to leave us something that they knew would make us happy after they were gone, and believe me, we know just how amazing and special it is. And the really good news is that there are more pictures to come. I just hope that the rest of them turn out just as good as these did, so that we will have lots more hidden treasures left to us by our parents in the future. The gift that keeps on giving…forever.
There is a popular song by Miranda Lambert called “The House That Built Me.” It is a rather bittersweet song about visiting the house where she grew up, in and effort to find herself again. I suppose that it is very common to lose sight of self as the years go by, and life gets busier and busier. Sometimes we just find ourselves needing to regroup, to a degree. Of course, in the song, she really just wanted to get back in touch with her beginnings. I can understand that, since my sister, Cheryl Masterson, my mom Collene Spencer, and I took a trip back to Superior, Wisconsin, to reconnect with family members, the town, and the house where the first years of my life were spent. Of course, unlike Miranda Lambert, we didn’t ask to go into the house, although it might have been fun to do so, and unlike Miranda, I didn’t grow up in the house, but rather the first couple of years of my life. Nevertheless, standing there in front of the house, I found myself thinking about the home movies I had seen of our time there. They were good memories, and it felt good to be there to see that house that represented my beginning.
My great aunt, Bertha Schumacher Hallgren and her sister, Elsa Schumacher Lawrence had the opportunity as teenagers to travel from their home in Fargo, North Dakota, to Minnesota. While there, they were not only able to see the house where they were born, but the actual room they were born in. Things are much different these days. Most people are born in a hospital, rather than at home, so we don’t necessarily think of the room we were born in, because there is almost no way to know exactly which one it was years later. Bertha and Elsa had such an amazing opportunity…one I suppose many of us might envy, if we thought about it very long. The time they lived in, combined with the kindness of the new owners, allowed them to take a small glimpse into their past. It was an event that affected Bertha so much, that she wrote about is years later. She too, had been a young girl when the family moved away, but unlike me, she was able to step back into the world, and feel what it was like in those early years.
No, I suppose you can’t really go home again, unless like my younger sisters, your parents stayed is the house where you grew up. In that case, while you have grown up, married, or moved out on your own, you still have 
those close ties to the home of your youth, and with it, the memories and values you grew up with. Yes, my older sister, Cheryl and I do have those memories too, we have still found ourselves wondering what our lives would have been like, and who we would have been if our parents had stayed in Wisconsin. I know things would have been different for sure, but in reality, all the changes that have gone on in our lives have turned out to be the best life for us anyway. So maybe, going back to a lost childhood home really makes little difference in the grand scheme of things afterall.
As we grow to adulthood, our life experiences shape the people we become, and one of the biggest life experiences we have is the relationship with our parents. Whether we realize it or not, we are commonly more like one parent than the other, and we can relate to one parent easier than the other. It doesn’t mean that we love one more than the other, just that we have more in common with one than with the other. That doesn’t even determine how well we get along with that parent that we are most alike. Some people can be exactly like on parent, and yet they fight with that parent quite a bit, or sometimes they just get along perfectly with that parent that they are most alike. My sisters and I got along very well with our parents, but as kids, we all had our moments…or was it years. My parents might say it was years. Nevertheless, I can tell you which of us was more like Mom and which of us was more like Dad.
Talking to my niece, Lacey Stevens, I find that my sister, Alena Stevens was a lot like our mom, is a way that had really never occurred to me before. Lacey tells me that her mom, reminds her a lot of her grandma, my mom, Collene Spencer, as she gets older. Our mom has always been a rock collector. It was something her dad, my grandpa, George Byer loved to do, and something he instilled in his kids by taking them on many rock hunting trips. Mom continued to look for pretty rocks for the rest of her life. I’m not sure why it surprised me to find out that Alena loves to find pretty rocks too. She has a prized collection of the rocks she has found, and she wants to keep them all. Mom was that way. She had a rock garden, and if one of the rocks was moved, she knew it. Each rock had its proper place. If one of the grandchildren took one of the rocks to play with, Mom knew it. I don’t know if Alena is that way too, but I suspect that she is, because a true rock 
collector knows her collection, and where each on belongs in the display.
Another way that Alena is like our mom…one that Lacey finds funny, is that Alena is always getting on her kids about coming over to visit more often. I think that is a trait all my sisters and I have in common with our parents. Our families are very important to us, and we will tell them to come by more often and call more often…basically keep in touch with us better. We didn’t have kids so they could go off and we never hear from them. So while Lacey finds that funny, I find it very normal, as I’m sure my sister, Alena does. Today is Alena’s birthday. Happy birthday Alena!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
As little girls, my sisters and I would get very excited when our different grown cousins, aunts, or uncles would come over. Like all little kids, we would want to hang out with the adults, and tell them about everything we knew…or could dream up. I think this is as common among kids, as breathing is. Maybe it is about someone new to listen to your stories or maybe it’s that everyone in the household has already heard them, so they don’t want to listen again…or maybe it’s just that you like the person who has showed up. Whatever the reason, you just can’t seem to hold yourself back…or at least that was how it was when I was a kid.
Now, fast forward about 50 years. A couple of days ago, I had to take some groceries to my nieces house for my grandson’s graduation party, which she is graciously holding at her home for my daughter. I had called to let them know I was coming, and they were on a walk, so when I got there, I just waited in my car. Pretty quickly, two of my grand nephews, Xander and Isaac came running up to my car. They had run ahead, obviously excited that I was there. Xander is twelve now, and so was a little better able to contain his excitement, but Isaac being only eight, was not able to do so as easily. While Xander ran back to let his parents know I was there, Isaac decided that he could bring everything up to the porch. He proudly carried five bags at once, and the bags were up on the porch in no time.
After his parents got back to the house, we were inside talking, and the kids, including Zack and Aleesia, all 
wanted to tell me or show me things. They were so excited to have me there. I was suddenly taken back those 50 plus years, to my own childhood, and I could so completely relate to how they were feeling. I could tell that their parents, Jenny and Steve Spethman, were thinking that they should stop the kids from chattering, but for me, it was really cute. I guess that it gave me a picture of what my sisters and I had looked like to our family members all those years ago. I don’t think they were ever irritated with us. They just knew that we loved them very much. As I recall, they always listened to our stories and made us feel like we belonged…never acting like we should just go play. I thought that now, I was that aunt that all the little ones were so excited to see and talk to. It made me smile, because it was such a special place to be.
Being the second child in a family is a special place to be. I know this because that is exactly what I am. The first child in a family comes home as the only one. There are no playmates waiting there. They must make their own way in every step of those early years. But, as the second child in a family, I didn’t have to make my own way, because I found my sister there. My older sister, Cheryl made my homecoming and the years that followed so special. Cheryl, I can’t imagine what my life would have been like had I not found you there.
As little girls, Cheryl and I had great times. She was such a great big sister, and since there were three years in which she and I were the only children, we had lots of time to become close. I love watching the old movies of us playing, because of just how comical two little girls can be. My sisters and I are in the process of transferring the old movies onto DVDs, so we will be able to watch them 
on our televisions. I know we will all enjoy them immensely.
Over the years, Cheryl continued to show me the way. Her style and abilities were standards I looked up to. During my awkward years, I was able to look to her as role model. I could never quite figure out how she could always manage to be so together, when I was such a mess, but she was always willing to help me to be more comfortable in my own skin. I really can’t tell her just what a blessing it is to have her as my sister and my friend. It is just another reason that I have felt so blessed to have found her there when I came home.
In the past few years, our friendship has grown stronger and stronger. I find myself very much enjoying spending Thursday evenings with Cheryl. It is our traditional evening together, that began as an evening with Cheryl and our mom, Collene Spencer, and now has become just Cheryl and me, and sometimes her daughter 
Liz Masterson, who has added a wonderful aspect to our evenings. Those Thursday evenings have become such a special time for me.
As I look back on our lives, I find myself more and more thankful that I found Cheryl there when I came home as the second child, as well as being thankful for each of my sisters as they made their grand entrances. Having four sisters is such a blessing, because girls usually think a lot alike on matters, but having such an amazing oldest sister has been a wonderful blessing for us all. Today is Cheryl’s birthday. Happy birthday Cheryl!! I’m so glad that when I came home, I found you there. Have a great day!! We love you!!
Going through our parent’s kitchen was, for me, one of the more interesting parts of going through their house. Mom has had a salt and pepper shaker collection since her childhood, and while we have only scratched the surface of that collection, we have started to draw for them. As we have done so, I have noticed the differences in our personal tastes. We might set out five different sets of salt and pepper shakers, and we would almost always choose a different one for each. For me, a set that Grandma Byer brought back from Ireland for Mom had always caught my eye. They were castles with shamrocks on them, and so typically Ireland. They always seemed so special. Mom’s salt and pepper shakers were a part of who she was.
For some reason, many people are collectors. The collections vary as much as the people who collect them. I 
know that there are people who don’t collect things, and I suppose their houses are not as cluttered as those of us who do collect things, but somehow I think that maybe they miss out of something that comes with collecting. When you have a collection, you find yourself picking out things of varying styles, as your personal styles change. That is the interesting thing about collecting. Your choices never stay similar. Even with my own collection…spoons, I was able to find interesting styles that were different than any others I had.
And if you think men can’t be collectors, you would be wrong. My dad loved his coffee cups, and Mom even liked the coffee cups, so much so in fact, that before long they had matching sets of cups. There were the Spencer cups, the Al cups, and cups from 
the many places they had visited over the years. They even had a tiny cup with a mouse and cheese on it. I guess everyone needed a cup…no matter who they were.
I don’t know how Dad came to have his collection, but as I said, Mom’s started as a child and her feelings about salt and pepper shakers never changed after that. They would always hold an interest for Mom. As we have looked through the salt and pepper shakers we have come across, we can all see out mother, and we can understand why she found each one that she chose, and each one that was given to her special in its own way. I suppose Mom was more of a collector than Dad was, but as I said, I don’t think anyone is really immune to collecting.
