Memories of My Grandparents

I have six. Though I can really only remember three. And even then, mostly vaguely.

Of course I remember my Grandma on my mother's side the most since she lived with us during much of my childhood. She'd had twelve children, so after Grandpa Brigham passed away she spent most of the rest of her life visiting with and caring for her children's kids, of which I was probably one of the primary benefactors.

This is how I will always remember my Grandma Peterson...


Stella Jarvis Peterson

She had long gray hair, down to her waist and even beyond, that she would tie up in a little tiny knot at the nape of her neck. As a child I think I figured that the older you got the longer your hair grew. Anyway... her hair was really, really long. And her skin was very wrinkled and "baggy." During those many long hours in church pretty much the only thing that kept my attention was playing with her wobbly neck and then, after I got bored with that I'd sleep for the rest of the meeting with my head on her lap.

We'd take a lot of trips. My family would travel to Arizona or Utah practically every summer (in my Aunt Clara's Ford Rambler through thunder and lightning storms as I mostly remember) and we'd be driving through the deserts with all those vast mountain ranges or intermidable stretches of desert on all sides and we'd sing songs like "We Are Sowing" or "High On A Mountain Top" or "They The Builders of A Nation"... and I've never been able to sing those songs in church since without thinking of her... and the landscapes.

Sayings she had a plenty. One I remember the most was "When mother speaks obey! Do not falter, do not stay, but quickly say "I Will!" And when she said it, she meant it!

Another favorite saying of hers was "Work while you work and Play while you play." That never really made sense to me as a child, but it does now. And a little song that went like this... "Have I done any good in the world today? Have I helped anyone in need? Have I cheered up the sad or made someone feel glad? If not I have failed indeed."

I think one of my greatest memories though was of that little black purse and of the lemon drops hidden within her little hanky. That little black purse was like a treasure trove to me!

There are many, many bedtime stories out there. Some traditional and some not so much. But I think I may be unique in having this poem (by annonymous) recited to me (by heart) probably at every single bedtime of my young life.. or at least it seemed that way to me. I can still recite it (by heart) too! But I was so glad to be able to find it!

The Little Blackberry Girl

I think the thing that impressed me most about Grandma was her ability to work her fingers to the bone and then to just find the time to "sit still." She used to love to go on drives and then just sit in the car while we carried out our errands and I don't ever remember her complaining about how long she'd had to sit and wait. She could always find something to think about...

Oh yes, and I remember that she also loved to mend socks...

Grandma Stella was always old to me. But what's funny is that she wasn't ALWAYS.


Grandma Stella as a young girl with her little sister. She was so pretty!


Marriage to Brigham Young Peterson in 1904


Young Wife and Mother


Brigham Young Peterson

I never knew my Grandpa Brigham, but have always regarded him as so dapper and handsome!...

And distinguished!


When people tell me I'm a "Peterson" I take that as a compliment.

Grandma Stella in her prime...


And a brief note from her...


Dad's Side

We'll as I've mentioned before, the whole story is a little complicated.

My true grandparents on my dad's side are Henry Howard Lamoreaux and Ivy Delilah Allen. Though I never knew either one of them.

My paternal grandparents were divorced when my dad was a child and their temple sealing cancelled by Heber J. Grant. So I guess that made it pretty official...


Ivy Allen - Dad's Mom

She was a great-great-great grandaughter of the lyricist William Wines Phelps who wrote many of the LDS hymns including "The Spirit of God" and many others, so I guess in a way I'm still sort of related.

Ivy eventually married Tom Horsley, afterwhich he was asked which he liked better... lambs or horses in choosing his ultimate last name (or so the story goes). And again, I have very little information on my dad's life during this time or virtually about ANY of his time growing up.


Thomas Leroy Horsley

I do know that Ivy passed away while my dad was in the Navy... and sometime later Tom married Enid... and that they would then turn out to be the paternal grandparents I would come to know and love. And it never occurred to me in all those years of growing up that we weren't blood related! So I guess it just goes to show...

The thing I remember the most about visits to Grandma and Grandpa Horsley's house was the suffocating heat. They lived in Mesa, AZ. But in their house they had all these little nic-nacs and a curio cabinet full of all sorts of cool stuff. A recliner that you could lean back in and put your feet up and a foot pump organ which I would spend hours on, and which I think we inherited later... And grandma, being the church music director, had this baton that always fascinated me. She was always telling me to be careful with it when I'd swing it around.

And they had the oldest car in the world. Even at the time I knew it was old. It smelled old! And they had these little nylon visers on the windows to deflect the heat and the sunlight but I think the fact that they had deteriorated so badly from all of the heat and sunlight was one of the reasons it smelled so bad in there.


At age 4 in front of the car

Grandpa was on the Mesa police force for years and years, but I never knew it. Not until his funeral service when there were blocks and blocks of police cars escorting the caravan to the cemetary. I always remember him being so quiet and reserved. Or maybe it's just because he was finally able to rest from his duties. At any rate... he never seemed like a policeman to me. Grandma was the robust one. Always laughing! Always smiling! Always singing! I remember she had an obsession with this late night radio talk show which she would often call into to share her thoughts, especially after grandpa died. She also had a very strong kinship with Alexander Schriener, the late LDS Tabernacle organist, but to this day I'm not quite certain what that relationship was.

The best thing I remember about visiting them was that they'd always take me shopping to buy "a dress" and "a toy." The dress I could have probably done without, but I'll never forget the feel and smell of Mesa's "Main Street" and "shopping" with my grandparents!



Aren't they SO friggin' cute?

A letter from Grandma Enid...


Anyway, I've only included some of my most vivid memories here as the geneology on both sides of my family has pretty much been completed for the most part. But there is still a detailed abundance of family treasure to be found in this wonderful book my mom compiled...


it's on the coffee table...

...Along with quite a bit of fairly well organized stuff that I've collected over the years which is in that old trunk of mine...

The one in the front hall...

Letters to My Sisters...

Excerpts from previous "Happy Birthday" blog posts.

To Lala... or that would be... Carol Ann to the rest of you...

Ok, here goes... Well, first of all... thanks for not doing anything like trying to suffocate me after mom brought me home from the hospital.

After that... one of my favorite childhood rememberances was of our times at night in our little twin beds... creating those yarns with a twist. The twist being that the stories always had to end with the phrase "...and the jennifer cleaned it up." Omg...wouldn't this just be TOO entirely too complicated to try to explain the premise of to anyone else ???!!!... or to explain the reason why we were able to laugh about the irony of it so many years later? Anyway...

Do you remember when you and "Biggie" (bwah) had me going on thinking that you guys went to some place in your dreams every night where you got to ride horses and stuff? And do you know how many mornings I woke up sobbing because I somehow hadn't figured out the magic password that I was suppose to somehow come up with in my sleep?

And then there were all those slimy pollywogs.

After that you left me alone and ignored me for like 10 years except for those times when you and Regina would make fun of me for some reason. Was I really that weird back then too???

But haha... then you went off to college and yet actually wrote to me like almost every day, and I can prove it because I still have all your letters! Guess you must have been homesick or something. Anyway... through your stationary you even subliminally tried to encourage me to incorporate your hot pink and orange dormroom scheme into my/our very own bedroom... which, btw, was by now all mine! (neenerneenerneener) Unfortunately I succumbed...

And THEN you went and got married. And I wanted to BE you! Ha! I bet you never even knew that that did you? That whole summer while I was behaving like an absolute brat as I was being forced to help address wedding invitations and glue all those hot pink and orange flowers into those bridesmaids baskets? Yes, big sister LaLa... it's all true.

But then kids and husbands... etc... etc... etc... began to fill up our days. And before we knew it some 30 odd years had past!...

But ya know it's funny, because as it turns out...some of the very best times I've ever had in my life have STILL ended up being the times I've shared with you! And so how did that happen? Perhaps it's because we're the only one's on this planet who completely "get" each other!...

Anyway...

Happy Birthday Carol Ann!

Hope you had a good one!


And it's not THAT bad getting older... is it?


...is it?



* * * * * * *

And To Jeannie... or I guess that should be... Alison...

So did you think I'd forget?

Fat chance! bwahahahaha.

So anyway... Here's what my little sister jee-nee looked like somewhere around 43 years ago today.



Isn't she just adorable? The most perfect bangs... nice little curls... and a to-die-for tie pin...

And yes, I coveted it ALL. I did.

Too bad that she turned out to be such an agonizingly unnactractive young woman...



So yes... Sibling rivalry at it's best I guess it was. She always did have the most perfect curls or the perfectly straight and silky locks. Whichever and whatever she wanted... But then it's always been that way! She even got to get married three times!!!

Mom!!!...

**Switches to first person to make it more personable...**

OK... you know I'm kidding, don't you? Just joshin' with you, right? Because right off the top of my head... I have 2 of just the most wonderful memories that are so vivid in my brain right now that they are about to burst out of it:

Like the time that I was babysitting you and I made you go outside on the driveway wearing my oversized pair of rollerskates, even though I knew you didn't have a CLUE how to rollerskate... But somehow you came through. And so yeh.. I never DID get to borrow that pair of crutches from you that I was hoping and praying that you'd end up needing...

And then there was that time when I was directing that production of "A Little Princess" in our basement... and out of ALL the kids in the WHOLE neighborhood I let YOU be Sara Crew. Oh, I KNOW I didn't have to... but then "I guess that's what makes me so nice" tm Glinda from "Wicked." Nevermind that we never actually performed it... even though we did rehearse it a lot! And it's always the thought that counts anyway.

Now don't get me wrong... We do have several, OK... multitudinous, OTHER memories ... but I think you'll probably agree with me that most of them are just much too embarrassing or too private to share. So shhh, don't you dare tell and I won't either.

My one serious question, however, is... how did you end up somehow being such a wonderful sister afterall? Because truly... you are one of the few people on earth who really knows me. And I just never would have expected that of you when you were like... 5. And even though you are now... 48 (omg!)... you are still, in my mind, my adorable little sister jee-nee, except who is now Alison, and probably always SHOULD have been. You've just always been the "Alison" type, ya know?



And STILL not too pathetically atrocious to look at...

I love you! So much!

Your sister

Oh! And THIS just in. I knew all that acting training I gave you would eventually pay off!

* * * * * * *

The Best Mom Ever

Ever noticed how MoM is still always spelled MoM.. even backwards?

And then just look what happens when you turn it upside down!

Anyway.. I am completely convinced that I have... and have ALWAYS had the very best WoW!

I've jotted down some memories in the past about all the reasons I think she is so incredible, which you can read about here and here, but today I just felt like sharing a couple more:

Nurturer
Here's a picture of my mom as a baby. The youngest of 12 children. You would have thought she'd have grown up spoiled rotten with all those older siblings doting over her.

Ironically she turned out to be the most selfless caregiver of all. Caring not only for her mother and many of her sisters at various stages of their lives, but her own children, her children's friends, her students, her grandchildren and great-grandchildren, the homeless, the sick, the elderly... and I think at one time even my cat.

She just doesn't know how to say No. Nor would it even occur to her to want to...


"Singer" Extraordinaire
My mom has always been a wonderful seamstress. Having been rather poor as a child and then growing up during the Depression she learned how to sew her own clothes early on. Her mother had always taught her how to make garments that were as beautiful on the inside as they were on the out. Here is the pink taffeta dress she made for her 8th grade graduation. She entered it into a 4H sewing competition on a chance to win a trip to Europe but was disqualified because she wasn't yet 16.

She tried her darndest to teach me sew, however the skill never quite caught on. I did end up making a couple of Halloween costumes for my own kids many years later... but only out of dire necessity. Thanks Mom!

Here's me wearing that exact same taffeta dress in one of my theatrical productions nearly 35 years later! So it was obviously made to last. Hope I didn't trash it TOO much. If I did... Sorry Mom!

Graduation dresses, formals, recital costumes, you name it... I'm sure it must have been tons of work for her while teaching full time. And I'm not sure I completely appreciated it until I was in the midst of raising my own.


Glamour Girl and Homecoming Queen Runner-Up
She definitely should have won!

Teacher
Here are a couple of pictures of mom as a teacher which span four decades. She taught for 37 years!

My first memory of mom as a teacher was attending "Nursery School" for her Child Development class. I don't know where the other kids came from and I'm not sure how long it lasted, maybe just a couple of days or a week. But I especially remember sitting around in a circle for singing time, and playing on the wooden rocking horse that was really MINE.

But my very favorite memory from when I was a little older was when she'd let me go to school with her once or twice a year. There was an office, a cooking room, a sewing room and a regular classroom all lined up in railroad fashion and it was like over a mile from one end to the other... And after exploring I'd sit at her desk in the office and pretend to be a teacher myself.

Eating lunch in the teacher's lounge was always an awesome treat!

Mom taught at that school for 22 years and then transferred to a brand new one as department chairman for another 15 years. I remember how much she loved those orange counter tops in the cooking room. And they WERE pretty awesome! In the new school she pioneered one of the first "On Your Own" curriculums ever I think, teaching her students all about the logistical facts of life. There were budgets and weddings to be planned and I think also a few babies.

It was here where I learned not only how to operate a mimeograph machine but also how to appropriately color code and organize every imaginable thing!

She loved her students and they loved her! I remember more than once hearing that a new student was so excited to have her as a teacher because of how much her mom had loved being in her class!

I was able to attend her retirement dinner in 1986 and it was quite the tribute! What a touching event it was in celebrating 37 years of a wonderful career! And that was 20 years ago! She's lived right I guess!

Everyone's MoM
And I mean that when I say it.

It wasn't unusual for our home to be filled with a dozen kids after school on any given day. And we didn't sit quietly and play video games back then. No. but we'd tear everything out of the cupboards and dress up closets and every nook and cranny imaginable!

She was always the one to host the the birthday parties, the pre-dance gatherings, the swimming parties for all the kids from church and eventually many of my cast parties. I'll never forget one afternoon during the summer of '69 when our living room was "the place" where over two dozen teenagers witnessed man's first walk on the moon!

And when she wasn't hosting she'd be chaperoning... Girl Scout trips to the mountains or Catalina... beach trips with the youth... taking her Primary students to the park... or Knott's Berry Farm. I'll bet she doesn't think I probably remember the time that we all played hide and seek on that little island across the road from it... or the time we dared her for nearly two hours to just jump off of off that playground structure into the sand, which she eventually did! What a game girl!

I could effortlessly name several handfuls of friends who at one time or another have called her "MoM." Did I mind? Not at all. It truly always made me feel really proud. Like I had a really, really special one. Ya know?

MY MoM!
Funnest day ever! Just HER and ME!

I took this one of her...


And then she took this one of me...


Negotiator
I'll never forget the time my MoM got caught going 30 mph in a 25 mph zone. Where after going back and taking a picture of the posted speed limit sign (completely hidden by a conglomeration of tree branches) she took it to the judge... magnifying glass and all! Needless to say she didn't hav'ta pay.

I so seriously wish that I had that picture!

Orchestrator
Family Hawaii Cruise of 2008... Need I say more? But in the end? It was the best time ever!

Writer
Ok, so she didn't actually write it, she made darn sure that everyone else did! And then she put the whole thing together! And what a great tribute to her own parent's legacy it is!

I hope that everyone lucky enough to be blessed with a copy of this book reads it! I have to admit that once I started I couldn't stop. No, seriously! That must have taken a whole lot of work! And a whole lot of love!

Grandma
Grandma of 16 and Great-Grandma to (oh my gosh I don't even know how many!)

But what I do know is what a GREAT Grandma she's been to mine.


I could never have done it without her!

Always there through the thick and thin... and sticky. If not for Grandma I am certain my kids would have never experienced the wonderment of sugar easter eggs... and multitudinous other messies...


And it's just been such a comfort having MoM so close by for my kids who now live so very far away from me, with never the lack of an "Omelette for a Crowd."

Grandma's house is just special! From the 'scary' pictures in the bedroom downstairs to the Celestial Living Room just above. Along with the early morning musak...

And I Also Want to Thank Her Again... for this:
Because she probably thought I was a complete and utter weakling after this experience. But I want to thank her so much for being there for me! For holding my hand through it. And also for supervising all those nurses...
I was somehow thinking about this just the other day and suddenly remembered that it wasn't just me all alone in the delivery room the morning my precious little second child was born, afterall.

And then I got pretty much choked up on that humungous memory.


Wife and Soulmate
The love of his life and vice-versa...
I swear... Probably one of the best matches ever made to date on the face of this planet! It's rather amazing really!

And if my siblings will allow me to speak for them as well, I think that we would probably ALL say how happy we are for them and for all of the precious and priceless things they have managed to discover together!

A match definitely made in Heaven... for all Eternity and even way beyond if that's even possible. For sure!

Ya know, it's really hard to try to express it all in this one little blog entry. And I realize this has been pretty long as it is.

But thank you MoM, really. For being the best one ever! Then, Then and NoW.

I Love You! I Do!


Happy Mother's Day Mom!

My Life In The 50's. Then and Now. Get it?

On a Sunday afternoon in July of 1969, I sat on an avocado green sofa in my living room along with my family and some family friends as a famous astronaut placed his left foot on the moon and declared, “One small step for man… but a giant leap for mankind.”

And even though I could just barely make much out of the distorted frames of video and much less through the static audio (even though our 14” console Motorola was truly state-of-the-art at the time) still, my 14 year old mind knew that a thing quite remarkable had just taken place. I fact, I distinctly remember saying to myself, "This is it! We’ve made it! There’s nowhere left to go or anything further that can possibly top this! I mean seriously… the moon???"

I’d heard rumors of how there would someday be a television set that you could wear on your arm like a wristwatch!… and how one day robots would take over the everyday functions of normal human beings. But I figured that these ideas were probably just being generated from the depths of someone’s fantasy mind, much like those belonging to the creators of one of my favorite Saturday morning cartoons, "The Jetsons." Although I found it fairly interesting how the characters on that show still had some of the everyday and normal challenges that MY own family had.

Life Back Then and Bit Beyond…

I was born in 1954 (the year of the big polio scare.) I can’t speak from much personal experience of the early 50’s or even much of the late 50’s for that matter. But what I don’t remember from those times I still have lots of photographs to trigger my memories. Tiny black and white ones at that, but still much more vivid and much more memory inducing ones than those developed by the new photo processing technologies of the 70’s, which have since then all but completely disintegrated.

In the year I was born, my parents bought us a brand new 3 bedroom ranch home in the suburbs of Los Angeles for around $13,000. It was a little bit nicer than the one I own now. They made about $5,000 a year… so a little bit less than what I now make. But still…

I think perhaps my first clue as to the fact that technology might be changing occurred in 1957 when our family car upgraded from our Ford Coupe Convertible and I could no longer sit on my daddy’s lap while he drove teaching me the basics of hand signals. This new car of ours had this awesome sort of new doohickey installed in it that could actually signal your intent automatically, with just a flick of a wrist… without even rolling your window down.

Other than that, I don’t think I ever had a clue that anything would ever be any different than it was right then. And it didn’t matter much. Because everything seemed just fine to me!

But if I could paint a couple of small pictures of what my life was like back then, here’s what I would paint: (Not that I can paint, mind you…)

• The little metal trough on the west side of my house where we would feed crickets to the frogs and then watch them spawn tadpoles from time to time.
  
• All the fields and hills and trails which were available to explore. And we weren’t afraid of them back then, and neither were our parents. So of course, we did just that. Explored them. And sometimes those fields were so tall that we’d literally get lost in them. For days sometimes.
  
• Playing kick-ball in the vacant lot until the sun went down like the big orange ball which looked surprisingly similar to the big orange ball we’d just been playing with.
  
• Riding my bicycle, the swing-set, the sprinklers, tether-ball, hula hoop, Slinky, Mr. Potato Head, Candy Land, Tinker Toys, Legos… and well, the list goes on.
  

But still, there was this technology out there… lurking... somewhere.

We had 13 TV channels, which I assume pretty much everyone else in our neighborhood had at that time as well. But I’m not sure whether or not we had to upgrade something to be able to view that first episode of "Bewitched" in Living Color or not, but I do remember watching it and thinking “Wow!” It was almost as surprising and confusing to me as that first time I wondered where those Mouseketeers would go every time they left the stage. In fact I think I remember checking behind my television set and even inside the vertical/horizontal control flap a time or two… to see if I could spot them.

As a child I loved art! Creating and drawing. Loved it! But I could never do it very well. Stick figures were even a daunting task for me. Yet my love for it continued. So thankfully there was the Etch-A-Sketch, the latest and greatest in new realm of graphic design technology, because I was really pretty good at that!

Given my apparent love for the arts, while realizing my much limited eye to hand coordination, my parents decided to enroll me in ballet classes at five. The recitals, I remember, were the best. Yet I only have my memories to draw from. I know my dad tried to grab a lot of home movies of them, but they are still pretty sad and pathetic mementos. No offense to dad. It wasn’t his fault. Not even my Broadway memories of 20 years later would provide me much to share with my kids. Video just hadn’t become quite "the thing" yet.

And who could ever forget the reel-to-reel tape recorder that took up half of the entire dining room table? I use to carry that 8 inch reel of tape back and forth with me to my voice lessons each and every week. And then I shrieked the first time I heard my thin and tinny voice emanating from it because that voice was definitely not mine!

In the 60’s my mother, who was a school teacher, used to let me skip my own school once or twice a year and would take me to her school and let me be her assistant for the day. One of my jobs was running off handouts in the office using the mimeograph machine. I always loved doing that because of the medicinal way those things smelled, hot off the press, before the ink dried. Another one of my jobs would be to take test papers and insert the grades, line by line, into her grade book. I remember one time, however, putting the carbon paper in backwards and then having to enter them all in a second time. After that, she showed me how to take each person’s grades and calculate them into an average to find their current grade. But not having a calculator, the job would usually take all day. So now, years later, it’s pretty much clear to me why she needed my services.

I moved to New York City right after I graduated from High School in 1972. All alone in a studio apartment on 72nd Street… at nineteen, I had neither a cell phone nor even an antiquated land line. However I did have two cassette tapes which I played incessantly until I completely wore them out… and I wrote a lot of letters. Replies to those letters would sometimes take two, three weeks… or more to get back, but I still have them…every one of them!… to this day. And though I don’t know if I’ll ever read them again they are still really nice to have. There was just something very special back in the day about actually having something to hold in your hand. On the other hand… most of my current emails have all pretty much been deleted.

And then Ziiiiip…Fast-Forward… I Was Raising My Kids…

Needless to say, my children grew up with a little less sense of adventure than I did. However, by the time they reached High School they were both typing around 105 words per minute. I remember thinking how extraordinary that was since at that age I’d average around 28. On a good day! And then I realized that typing was the lifeline between themselves and their friends. It was how they communicated with each other. There was no need any longer to just go “hang out.” And I guess this in a way had its upside.

In 2002, I wrote a paper entitled "The Cyber Habits of Virtually Addicted People" (based loosely on the title of the Stephen R. Covey book of a similar name.) In it I belabored not only the fact that my children were seriously spending way too much time with on-line gaming, chatrooms and instant messaging but that most of the world seemed to be falling into the same groove. In fact, I spent much of the paper discussing the new "dysfunction" conjured up by the founder of Bulletin Board PsyCom.net and a member of the American Psychiatric Association, Ivan Goldberg. This new dysfunction was labeled "I.A.D." or "Internet Addiction Disorder" and was posted to his colleagues primarily as a joke. But the idea of it took off to bulletin boards across the country along with a seven-item questionnaire revealing the symptoms of the disorder… and the response from people believing they might be inflicted with the dysfunction was astounding.

I played the role of the armchair judge.

…And THEN What Happened?

My children are now living their lives, working, raising their own families… busy as ever. And though they both have a FaceBook and a MySpace page, a blog a piece and are still very computer savvy, it’s definitely not by any means their primary focus or major channel of social connection. In fact, occasionally they are off-line for days at a time. As opposed to me…

Perhaps they’ve just not yet realized the gift. Or maybe they take it for granted. Or better yet… I just raised my kids in the practice of moderacy. Yeah, I like that idea the best.

But I admit it. I definitely have I.A.D, if there even is such a thing. All I know is that there are very few things I do anymore in life (that I really love doing) that don’t involve the digital world in one way or another. I’m not sure how it happened, it just did. And it was very timely!... that is, my getting caught up in it all right around the time that my children were leaving home. Because one thing’s for sure… I’ve never had to experience the empty nest syndrome. In fact, it gets so busy around here in the evenings sometimes that I almost forget to cook dinner… or go to bed.

It started out quite innocently, on message boards, learning how to make paragraphs using HTML so that your thoughts wouldn’t end up being one big blob of nothingness. But then it moved rapidly on to the dreaded emoticon … and links… and then glorious images. And before I knew it, I was undeniably and uncontrollably hooked. And though I blame the 2nd runner up in Season Two’s American Idol competition for getting me started on all this, I realize he was just the catylyst.

Every addiction has one…

I would never have believed in the 50’s or 60’s or even in the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s that I’d ever be able stream a live cellcert or download high definition videos of concerts I was unable to attend. Or share videos from those that I could.

I also never would have imagined that some of the best friends in my life would reside in Nova Scotia, New Zealand, Toronto, Georgia, Arkansas and California and that I would be able to talk with them all on a daily basis (often at the same time) and even travel with them. And that they would ever come stay in my home and vice versa…. Or that I would meet up with friends that live just miles down the road from me, who I would never, ever have gotten to know otherwise.

And especially… I never would have dreamed that I’d ever run a website or even understand AT ALL how to do it. But now, somehow, I do.

I honestly don’t remember the last time I mailed a letter or a bill or figured my tax return or went shopping or did anything that I couldn’t do on-line, except for sleeping (though I guess I’ve probably done that too!) I even have the privledge, after 15 years, of working from home 2 days a week and logging into my corporate network. It’s just like being at work!... except for the fact that I get to stay in my pajamas. I do go to the grocery store from time to time, but like I said… I still usually forget to cook.

If I Still Lived Back Then…

Well, thankfully I don’t. But if I did, I’d probably be writing this in long hand. I’m pretty sure of that. Or most likely I wouldn’t even be going to school at all and I wouldn’t have any inkling of what was to come so I probably wouldn’t be writing this anyway.

For sure I wouldn’t have discovered my passion, which is creating beautiful things from music and images, video… light… sounds and et al!

I’d probably be doing the same exact job I’m doing right now, however, doing it at a much slower pace. If I were even working at all. So yeah, sometimes, like at 6 a.m. every morning, I sort of wish I still lived in the 50’s and could just get up and make pancakes for my family or somethin'...

Would I rather live then or now? The quieter, less stressful times? There was just something so special about that. But having a world at your fingertips with the wiggle of a few of them is awesome as well. So please don’t make me choose! I just feel so lucky to be among the small percentage of the earths population who have been able to experience both.

Yet still, I sometimes sort of miss the the frog sounds…and most of the time still prefer that memory to all the current, incessant cellphone yacking.

Yes, if I could point out one downside of this new and wonderful world of incredible technology, it would most definitely be THAT.

~~~

Oh Daddy-O!...

So in case I failed to mention this earlier, I'm taking my cues from a book my daughter gave me for Christmas a few years ago. Or maybe I bought it for myself and just asked her to give it to me. I really can't remember. But it's called "Reflections from a Mother's Heart.. Your Life Story in Your Own Words." And since I don't really remember how to cursive very well any more, I've decided to type it.

I'm trying to follow the entry topics pretty much as intended and just changing them up a bit every once in a while so that they apply.

And so this next one asks.. Where did your father go to work everyday and what did he do?

Ok, I think I can answer that one pretty easily.

I have no idea.

Seriously.

I know that he worked for NCR (National Cash Register) and that he always had these boxes of little metal thingies in his office and in the garage (which I suppose equated to some huge technological devices back in the day.) But honestly? Other than that... No clue.

I remember one time in elementary school when my one of my teachers asked us this very same question. And I simply couldn't answer it. And I was so confused as to why she would expect anyone to actually know that.

I do remember that he travelled a lot and that one of our Sunday night activities included sitting down as a family and watching slide show presentations of his travels. I can still remember the "click click" of the slides changing and how I thought the slide show canvas that he'd set into the living room and pull up was very, very cool. I don't remember any of the actual pictures themselves.

But some of the memories of my dad that I DO have were, first, him taking a belt to me whenever I did something naughty. And I think that's so sad that that always has to be the first thing I remember when I think about him! But perhaps those were just the 60's, and it was fairly common then, so perhaps everyone my age has those memories.

But here are some happier ones:

• How he would tell us a joke and how his laughter was always so infectious.
  
• The time he tried to improve our weekly artichoke meal by stuffing it with hamburger.
  
• Him taking my mom and my younger sibling on a surprise vacation to a motel on the beach... even though we didn't leave for it until 2 in the morning and returned right after breakfast the next morning.
  
• The fact that I think he actually attended most of my dance recitals and immortalized every one of them on reel to reel.
  
• And that I don't believe he ever missed a one of my truly important celebrations or proud moments and was proud as well.
  

I just feel sad that I was never able to get to know him better. There was just a problem connecting. Of course we got closer as I got older and our ages merged slightly and for the last several years of his life I actually had a chance to spend quite a bit of time with him. He also got to meet my children and he loved them too.

My dad passed away of cancer in August of 1994, on my younger sister's birthday.

There are just SO many things about my dad that I will never, ever know yet I believe there must have been so many wonderful facets to him that were way beyond my perception at the time. For one, that he really wanted to love and commit to something.. but he just didn't know how. And I also believe that he knew who he was and wanted in his heart of hearts to be able to share. But I know that he had a tough childhood... way tougher than mine could have ever imagined being (and which was overall extremely blessed.) So I'm going to give him that. And also a high five for effort.

My mom recently shared with me a whole bunch of pictures of him though. And I just love having them!


Here he is on a pony as a kid.


High School Graduation.


College Graduation from USC in Business Administration.


Once a drummer in a dance band!


He enlisted in the Navy at age 19 and served as a radio man on an aircraft carrier during World War II.

And this is where my history gets all messed up... World War II or Korean War, I have no idea... but I just really love these next few pictures!


On a ship somewhere...


On a rickshaw...


Relaxing with a friend...


Outside a Naval Hospital in Yakasuka...


Caught writing a letter to mom...


He always loved that camera!

Anyway... I think my dad was an extremely handsome and genuine man. I can completely understand why my mother was so taken by him. And I want to believe they (and we) had at least a couple of really good years together.


Our first family pic...


Visiting the Grand Canyon...


Sailing with his girls...

In 1984, after a long period of seperation and a finally a divorce, my dad eventually married Peggy Jeffries who was a wonderful woman and I feel a really good match for him. And I believe he was able to find some comfort and comaraderie during those last ten years of his life.



I'm just so happy he was able to stick around long enough to meet his grandchildren.



Regrets? Well, there are more than many. But one of them is that I don't think I even have a picture of just me and my dad... together... all alone.

Wait! I just found one...



Another blog about dads...