The Princess of Cedar City

From the time I was very young I had panic attacks when my parents left to go somewhere. By the time I was 8 or 9, I'm sure it was inconvenient for my parents, to say the least. My mother decided to get me a pet. I think she liked cats herself, so that was what she found for me through a newpaper want ad. The cat did seem to fill a lonely place in my heart. There wasn't much said about neutering house pets in those days, so he occasionally went off on his route. He was black and white and quite patient with me. For the most part he was there when I got home from school or play and he was there when I was left with a baby sitter. The panic didn't totally go away, but became manageable. I still have a great fondness for cats so when we discovered Aunt Fran had a cat, I was pleased. As you can see, Princess is beautiful. At the time this photo was taken she was still quite kittenish. Art was able to get her to dance following the sunlight reflected from his watch as he turned his arm this way and that. Often she would leap so high that it was hard to get a good shot. I really like this one. I think of this picture of Princess as the essence of what it is to be a cat.

I adore cats!

R.A.W.

The title has nothing to do with uncooked food. Nor about swimming without a suit! The initials were part of a column I read the other day in the newspaper. The answer to a question caught my attention. The question? How to let someone know you are interested in friendship without getting rejected. The person asking wanted to share feelings but didn't want to feel humiliated. I'll quote parts of the answer because I thought it applied to many things in life, even other than relationships.
"The previous question isn't from just one reader--it's from millions. To answer it I'd like to welcome you to Rejection Awareness Week, 2008. RAW is NOT about overcoming the greatest obstacle on the path to finding happiness in love (and life). The following five steps [may possibly] change forever the way you look at taking risks.

1. Celebrate the truth--embrace the Universal Rejection Truth of Dating and Relationships. The URT says that not everyone we like will like us. Rejection is as normal, natural and unavoidable as breathing.
   
2. Come Out of Denial--This would be giving the world permission to not always appreciate, include and desire us, while still knowing that we are worth appreciating, desiring and including.


3. Train for the Sport of Taking Risks in order to be able to take risk after risk and face the URT again and again. Training means looking in the mirror and embracing what you can't change while working to change what you can.


4. Take THE RISK--Success is NOT measured by the outcome. Success is measured simply by taking THE RISK.
   
5. React, Recoup, Repeat--If the outcome is what we expect, GREAT. If not, don't run or attack. Ask what you can do to change the outcome. Take time to recoup and refresh. Then repeat. Continue the process for a year. What you'll discover is that over time, the focus will shift from avoiding rejection to exploring opportunities to find passion in love and in life."
   

It seems to me that steps 4 and 5 might apply to many aspects of my life in the present time. Worth a try? I hope so.

Ireland from Above

This misty-looking photo was taken from the window of the airplane when I was on my way home from the UK. It is the nearest I came to visiting Ireland although I did visit the Irish Sea (from Holyhead) and it was beautiful. This picture reminds me of my trip, of course, but it also makes me think of different ways of seeing the world. How lovely to get this kind of perspective on a land I have heard about but never experienced. Yet, how much more rich would it be to also have the privilege of seeing the details "up close and personal"? Maybe someday.

Hear No Evil

One day when Brittany and Stephanie were here they came into the office where Art and I were talking. They sat down at my desk, on a rolling office chair, Stephanie on Brittany's lap. For some reason, they began the "See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil" thing. I took several photos until they got so rambunctious with each other that it stopped being fun for them (and for us as grandparents!). Watching them, then reviewing the photos later, made me think of my own childhood in California. I remember being at my grandparents after my uncle came home from the navy in WW II. I have a glimmer of a memory of a set of little monkeys on a shelf . I think they were sitting on their haunches, one with hands covering eyes, another covering ears, another his mouth. Someone told me that these three little characters represented a good way to think about things. As that fit right into the family pattern of denial, I accepted the belief quite readily. As I ponder today, I wonder about finding a balance. Surely there is wisdom in the avoidance of snap judgments which so often turn out to be false judgments. And just as surely, in a world where evil is evident all around us, there is wisdom in seeing, hearing and speaking up about what is wrong and about what we can do to change it. So maybe another time when Brittany and Stephanie are a bit rowdy and feisty, I will try to find another way to redirect their energy rather than shutting them down. After all, it takes strong women and men to face the world we live in today. As it always has.

The Chairs

When we visited Smart Clinic regarding leg and knee pain, we sat in chairs like these. Unfortunately. Art and I both noticed how comfortable they were. So we began asking questions as to where to purchase some like them. They were a Costco find a few years preiously. We went to Costco. There are two of them nearby. No luck. Long gone. Next time we visited the clinic, we checked the brand. Lane Furniture. The internet was next. No results. Something about how Lane had been sold to another company. Next visit, we got a serial number. We discovered they were office chairs. Office chairs. Hmm. Maybe Office Max or another office supply store? I can't count how many chairs we sat in. We tried not only Office Max, but also Staples and Office Depot. Nothing felt nearly as comfortable. So Art went on to the next step which was joking/pleading. Everytime we went in for PT or other treatment, he asked the poor receptionists if they wouldn't sell the chairs to him. It was a running theme for the entire time we went to Smart Clinic. Of course they just smiled and told him "No". I'm not sure, but it is possible that when we left or came back they might have rolled their eyes in anticipation of his nagging question! Now whenever we come near an office chair, we have to sit down and try it out. One at Sam's Club was almost OK. One at Educators Mutual insurance office was actually quite good. But we still have not been able to find chairs as downright comfortable as these in Smart Clinic physical therapy area. Unfortunately. But fortunately "hope springs eternal", so I imagine we will still stop and sit down every time we see another potential candidate.

Mother and Daughter

This photo was taken in the mid 40's. My mother was adjusting either the scarf, my hair or the sweater I was wearing on what must have been a somewhat cold day in Big Cottonwood Canyon. My father's sister, Lucille, had a cabin there and we had been invited. I don't remember if it was for a family activity or an overnight stay. My father must have taken the picture. I had an ambivalent relationship with both my parents. I like this picture because it shows the tender, loving side of my mother. She was basically a good person. I hope that I have carried on many of her positive qualities. At her best, she was spiritual and insightful. She must have been burdened by a lot of unspoken pain. She was probably clinically depressed as well as having asthma. I find that now I can't judge in the same way I have done in the past. I know too much of the circumstances which make people choose as they do. I am painfully aware of my own deficits. My plan is to continue on with life, moving toward healthier choices for myself. And I hope others will "cut me a lot of slack" as I muddle along. I like the scriptures which tell us that when we judge (as we must) the judgments need to be righteous ones. Clear-eyed and truthful. Full of truth.

Scattegories

This idea came to me by way of Kimberlee. It is a way to think of words that begin with your first initial. You give an example of a person, place or thing as suggested. It's fun to see what you can come up with. Here goes:

What is your name: Janet

A four letter word: Jazz
Vehicle: Jeep
City: Jamestown
Boy's name: Justin
Girl's name: Jillian
Drink: Juice
Occupation: Juggler
Something you wear: Jumper
Celebrity: JLo
Food: Jerky
Something found in a bathroom: Jewelry
Reason for being late: Jittery
Cartoon Character: Jughead
Something you shout: Jumping Jehosaphats!
Animal: Jaguar
Body Part: Jaw
Word to describe you: Joyful

Thanks for the challenge, Kimberlee!

Good Friday

Today is a good day to think of my life at this time, particularly the past couple of days. Last night I went to Book Club. I love this group. It is eclectic and diverse. We discussed the book The Glass Castle. I loved the exchange of ideas and the respect given to each other. I am so glad that Carol had the idea to start the group and that I can be in it. I say "can" because there will be times when I will have to make a choice. My poetry group meets the same night next book club is scheduled to happen. It will be interesting to see how it will unfold, how I will balance my time with two activities that I enjoy. I will continue to read the assigned book. And then if I can't be there in person, I will make a blog entry about my impressions of the book. For next month we are reading Tisha, "the story of a young teacher in the Alaskan wilderness". That same morning, I went to the temple with Joan. She is a wonderful friend. She inspires me to hang in there and to do good things for others. I love so many things about her that it's hard to name the many ways she helps me. Yesterday, it was a ride, dropping me off at the door, and putting up with slow walking. And, as always, she gives common sense and laughter. Today the Family History Center was the destination. The work of entering names into my computer file was calling. And dear Pat. If family history work had done nothing more than give me Pat as a friend, it would have been worth everything. How do you express adequately the love received from friends? Alice was there too, my friend and traveling companion on the trip to Wales. And the spirit was nourishing, as always. Art, my companion in good times and bad. How blessed I am to still have him in my life. Being 71 and awaiting knee surgery is not so bad when he is here, steady and compassionate beside me. We had lunch today with Heather on her day off. Since this post seems to be about friends, I am so blessed to have our children become my friends, too. I have been observing the loneliness of others who have lost their spouse. I can't really know, but it pains me to see how hard it is for them. Their courage gives me hope that I can face what is before me with a bit more strength and grace. Sometimes because Art and I are somewhat handicapped by his painful hip and my knee, I feel sorry for myself and think I am definitely homebound. But as I write this, I realize that is not true. Thanks to all the people mentioned here, and more, we get out and about. And the future holds hope and promise. After all, our greatest friend, the Savior, offers even greater blessings than these. It is a "good Friday". And may it be an even better Easter.

Kimberly, St. Patrick's Day, and Easter

When I was expecting my third child, the due date was very close to St. Patrick's Day. Because of that, and because we liked the name, if the baby was a girl we planned to give her the middle name of Erin. She was born three days before March 17th but it was close enough. For some reason, we seemed to give birth on Sunday, but Kimberly came on Saturday because the Dr. suggested starting the labor then. After being born, she did not squinch her eyes at the light but opened them and looked around. As they wheeled us to recovery, she was still wide-eyed and alert. This year, Kimberly's birthday (March 14th) has come and gone and St. Patrick's Day as well. For the sake of convenience, she has chosen to have her party on Easter which comes early this year. It seems to me to be an appropriate day to celebrate new life and rebirth together. I am grateful for Kimberly, for her gifts, for her tender heart and for her ability to love. And as I think of it, for many other qualities too numerous to name. Happy Unbirthday, honey.

Are We Prepared?

"The average guy on the street has nothing to worry about, there should be no panic whatsoever." – Gerard Cassidy, banking analyst

The headline today says, "Will your money be safe if the bank fails?" The people interviewed for the article are saying "yes". And yet...Art and I grew up as depression babies. We have a memory of the anxiety of our families as they dealt with difficult financial issues. We are evaluating our own readiness for a more challenging financial future. So, because of that, I have a couple of links to lessons on personal finance. (Check out "Roving the Internet" on the right column of this blog.) It may be time to get serious about the old truisms, "Pay as you go, save for a rainy day, get out of consumer debt." I think the advice regarding "no panic" is valid. I also think that rather than worry, I would like to thoughtfully and step by step become more self-sufficient and stable regarding our stewardship over the resources we have. Repairs and food storage are on our list of items to focus on. What about you?

The I Can

The I Can is a literal can which is a small reminder of the store Michelle owned. The story of the end of the store is not a happy one, but the cards of personal affirmation which are inside the can are something I enjoy and thought I'd pass along. On the days when I remember, I will post a new one. Now if I could just remember how to set that up! I DID IT! Is it redundant to say, "I can"?

Kathleen Flake: Mormon and Intellectual

Today I went on the internet to verify my belief that Kathleen Flake is LDS. I found a wonderful interview using Google. The site mentioned PBS American Experience and Frontline and this is a partial copy of an interview with her. I think bits and pieces of it were in the telecast "The Mormons". I recommend reading the article/interview which I found just by typing in her name. I suspect that her academic life in history was helpful in writing the forward I posted. As you may have noted, she was wonderfully even-handed in expressing herself which is part of what I admired.

Wish I'd Written It

You know when you read something that is so good you wish you had written it? That's the way I felt when I read this as a forward from Kathleen Campbell, one of my poetry group friends. After I stopped feeling envious of the writing skills, I was just plain grateful that someone wrote it! If you want to try the address for yourself here it is: http://marty-center.uchicago.edu/sightings/archive.2008/0207.shtml If you have no better luck than I did with retrieving, here is the printer-friendly version.

How to Bury a Prophet
— Kathleen Flake
The Latter-day Saints buried their prophet on Saturday. Thousands attended the service in person and millions more faithful watched in chapels around the globe, as well as on the internet. What they saw was an unusually personal ceremony for a very public man who led and to large degree defined the contemporary Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Notwithstanding the numbers and titles of participants, Gordon Hinckley's funeral was a family affair both in word and sacrament. It was an extraordinary display of what makes Mormonism tick.Gordon Hinckley died at the age of ninety-seven, having been in the church's leading councils since 1958 and serving as its fifteenth president since 1995. He shaped the church through a half century of growth in one hundred and seventy countries. A third of its present membership joined during his tenure as president. Displaying remarkable vigor late in life, he met with church members on every continent, responding to their needs with curricular, welfare, and building programs whose costs are impossible to imagine and no one will admit. He met the press to a degree unequaled and with an openness heretofore unknown among Mormonism's leadership. This effort too was largely successful. No less a cynic than CBS's Mike Wallace admitted that Hinckley "fully deserves the almost universal admiration that he gets." He was, as Newsweek's Jon Meacham said, "a charming and engaging man, an unlikely prelate — and all the more impressive for that." The same could be said of his funeral. Hinckley's funeral was an unlikely but impressive mix of the sacramental and the mundane, in large part because it observed Mormonism's custom that families bury their dead. The family designs the memorial program, participates actively in it, and performs the ordinances that send their loved ones off to the next life. Yes, the chapel in this case was the LDS Conference center that held 21,000 mourners; the lay pastor who conducted the meeting was Thomas Monson, Hinckley's presumptive successor as "prophet, seer, and revelator;" and the music was provided by the three-hundred-plus member Mormon Tabernacle Choir. But, in all other essentials, the service was performed by the family. A son gave the invocation. Monson conducted at the request of the family, he said, not by ecclesiastical right. The eulogy was given by a daughter who described her father's life as half-way point in a now seven-generation story of sacrifice, death, and survival that is the Mormon saga. Explicitly gathering the millions watching into that story, she declared "we are one family sharing an inheritance of faith." Friends with high titles spoke next. Though the requisite list of Hinckley's ecclesiastical accomplishments was given, it was subordinated to his success as a courageous and amusing friend and a successful husband and father. Another daughter gave the benediction: "We are buoyed by the knowledge that we will see him again as family, as friends."Hinckley's sons and daughters with their spouses led the casket out of the hall and between an honor guard of church authorities. Cameras followed the mourners, focusing on his five children, twenty-five grandchildren and sixty-two great-grandchildren who formed the cortege to the cemetery. There, possibly most surprisingly, the eldest son dedicated the grave without fanfare. Notwithstanding the presence of the entire church hierarchy, the son stepped forward to pronounce: "By the authority of the Melchizedek priesthood, I dedicate this grave for the remains of Gordon B. Hinckley, until such time as thou shall call him forth." Then, church leaders were "dismissed," as Monson put it. As the church teaches is the case in the afterlife, only the family remained. Families are, as Latter-day Saints like to say, forever. What they don't say is that the church is not forever. It is only the instrument for endowing families with the right and duty to mediate the gifts of the gospel to their members, thereby sealing the willing among them as families in the life to come. This was Hinckley's message as a prophet. As he would have it and as the best Mormon funerals do, his message was embodied and enacted by his family who blessed him in death, no less than in life. This is how the Latter-day Saints, at least, bury a prophet.Kathleen Flake is an associate professor of American Religious History at Vanderbilt University Divinity School and Graduate Department of Religion.
Sightings comes from the Martin Marty Center at the University of Chicago Divinity School.

Sharing Books

One of my daughter’s friends had a link on her blog which interested me. The name: PaperBackSwap.com/. Joining this group has been a real break-through for me. You see, I have so many books that the shelves are overflowing into precious living space. But could I let them go? No. Not without a strange panic that was truly overwhelming. But something had to be done. This site has made a difference. I post the books I decide to share, even if only a few. Sometimes it is just the book someone else has been waiting to have. That feels great! I put the posted books on a particular shelf. I mail off the ones selected by others. The others rest on the shelf until a month or so has passed. By then I have mentally let them go, so it is easy to send them off to the thrift store. And the process starts over. I now have 9 credits so I could (if I wanted to) ask for books from others in the group. I do have 3 books on my wish list, but so far they haven’t been posted by anyone else. I’m making an offer: if you want to use one of my credits for a book, I will send away for it. Or better yet, start your own account. They give you two free credits to begin, then you go from there. This has been more than a fun experience. It has been enlightening. In more ways than one.