Raising Four--Reflections of a Mother

Barbara Beth Shelton

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 26 Jan 2014 20:26:00 +0000

She was always there...birthdays, holidays, graduations, weddings, new babies, funerals. If it was a special day, Aunt Barbara always made it a point to be there. You know what I’m talking about, she was there for you too, wasn’t she? Bringing food (maybe her peach cobbler or a pie), lending an ear, crying with you, or celebrating with you. If something needed to be done, she just did it.

What a life. Barbara lived life to it’s fullest and gave of herself every day.

She was the first child of Bessie and Glen Phifer. With a head full of blond curly hair (which was later red), she ran the Maple Leaf neighborhood of rural Stevens County. And down the road less than a mile was her best friend, Karen. Those two would often cover 5-6 miles while playing on a nice summer day.

Of course, her younger brother, John, was also likely to tag along. In fact, she once even took him to school in the first grade for show and tell. From the time they were very young, Barb and John had a special relationship. She loved him so much and he loved her too.

And Ginger came along shortly after. Between the three of them, they had a ball playing on the farm. What a beautiful family--a picture perfect family of the 1950s. It was a wonderful childhood…until their daddy died. Way too young, the grandfather I never knew was ripped from his children’s lives. And Barb stepped up. She was the oldest, after all, and she helped raise her younger siblings.

And the Aunts helped, too. Barbara had such a special relationship with her daddy’s sisters. They could get her to do just about anything when she was a little girl...and they would laugh and laugh. They were so much fun that Barbara, Karen, and Mom (Ginger) would play a game called “Irma, Wanza, and Gladys”. They would pick which one they wanted to be and act like them. Oh...if we had only had iPhones back in the day. What fun it would be to see them play and imitate the women they so admired.

The kids were always involved with the farm. John remembers vividly one day when he and Barbara were each on a fender of the tractor as their Uncle Glen plowed the field and their daddy rode on back. All of a sudden, Barb fell off and should’ve been ran over. But somehow, the tractor was stopped in time. It was a miracle. And John has always remembered that day and how close he came to losing his sister.

And when they were older, he has fond memories of hunting and dripping (kids, ask your folks what THAT was all about!) with Barb and their friend, Earl, in tow.

At 15, the young man she was dating was this handsome Earl Shelton. One day he picked up John in his car and they went to town. You see, Earl had purchased an engagement ring for Barb who was at a friend’s house. As they drove by the house, Barb was outside. Earl rolled down the window and threw the ring to her...and just kept driving. But he only drove around the block because he had to come back by to see if her answer was “yes”. The ring on her finger and the smile on her face was answer enough for Earl. They were married a month before Barb’s 16th birthday.

Barb and Earl were blessed with three ornery, accident-prone boys--Terry, Mike, and Rick. Poor Barb, that’s a lot of testosterone in one house!

One of Mike’s first memories of his mother was being rocked by her as she watched the news one day. Barb was upset and so were the people on the TV. Mike asked her what was wrong and she told him that President Kennedy had been shot. He was four.

Each of their three boys, at some point in his life, would break his leg--his left leg. Thank goodness Barb was a nurse. We were trying to figure out just how long Barb worked as a nurse. Although she retired from the hospital after 24 years, she had worked at Pioneer Manor as both a volunteer and then a nurse prior to that. And wouldn’t you know it, after she retired she continued to volunteer. In fact she fixed hair on a regular basis for the women in Pioneer Manor up until very recently.

But she was also a regular caregiver to her grandchildren whom she loved dearly. Those grandkids were as comfortable in grandma’s home as they were in their own. They loved to visit her, stay with her, and go places with her. And when she needed a caregiver, those grandkids were there to take care of her. The boys--Terry, Mike, and Rick--well, they have some pretty amazing kids. What fun it is to listen to those kids talk about camping with their grandparents, giggling fits where nobody even knew what they were laughing about, and road trips.

Speaking of road trips, Barb learned to drive young. Karen’s parents weren’t as brave. But one day she talked her dad into letting her and Barb go for a drive. Her dad gave them exactly 1 ½ hours. That’s it. And they could drive 15 miles per hour. So they headed out...and they felt so big in their manual shift International pickup that would often die when Karen had to release the clutch.

As they were making their way home from their long trip (I’m sure they got pretty far at 15 miles per hour!), the two girls got to gawking about something in the distance...and, sure enough, ended up in the sandy ditch. And that pickup was not moving.

“My dad’s going to kill me,” said Karen. “What are we going to do?”

“Well,” said Barb. “I guess you’re going to die.”

But a farmer came along and pulled the girls out with his tractor...and he never told Karen’s dad about the incident. So...she got to live.

Barb did know tragedy. Besides losing her father at the tender age of 13, she also lost her son, Terry, and her grandson, Jerimy, in an accident that forever changed her life and the lives of many others. One never gets over something like that, and she always carried them around in her heart. I wondered as I sat beside her hospital bed this past week, if Terry was waiting excitedly to welcome his momma home. To her real home, her TRUE home.

Mandy, Jared and Jesse were so young when we lost Terry. It hurts so badly to look at a child and know that they will never really know their daddy. Barb understood that. And she also understood how her own dad’s family made sure that she and John and Ginger always knew they were Phifers. And in the very same way, she reached out to Mandy, Jared, and Jesse to make sure that they always knew that they were Sheltons.

Those kids looked so forward to time spent with their grandparents, uncles, and cousins. Once when they were out, they got the idea in their heads that if they ate spinach like Popeye, they would be strong just like Popeye. Their goal was to get strong enough to go out and lift Grandpa’s pickup. So Barb made them spinach. And they hated it. But they ate it...and they ate enough that they were just sure they were strong enough to go out and lift that pickup.

So they went out to the shed. You know how you can lift up on a pickup and it will come up just a bit due to the suspension system? When those boys lifted on that pickup, it came up. And they were wide-eyed! The next couple of hours they spent lifting and lowering that pickup, enjoying their newfound strength.

And the other grandchildren felt just as special. Katie and Kinze loved playing at Grandma’s house. In fact, one day they just had a ball drawing at her house...in the bathroom….on the mirror...with lipstick...with every single color of lipstick that Barb had. The girls learned something important that day--Grandma could spank. And they never forgot it.

Barb was an amazing home-maker. In fact, Mike and Rick even remember their folks bringing steaks out to the field and grilling them up right out there in the wheat or corn stubble. Her laugh was magical. She hated raisins. She said they looked like little bugs. And if you ever ate raw dough in front of her, she would tell you that you were going to get worms! Barb loved playing cards. In fact, when scolding the grandkids for staying out too late, the kids could often scold her right back (lovingly) because they had seen her vehicle down at the Senior Center until after midnight.

About fifteen years ago, Barb fought and beat cancer. The courage and strength with which she faced that battle was inspirational. And her valiant fight allowed her to meet and spend time with her first great-grandkids.

Little Gavin was a special joy for her. I think many were hoping that she would get to meet baby Ady before she left us. Have no fear, she will watch Ady grow and she will meet her when the time is right. We have an amazing God who is reminding us of the joy of new life even as we mourn the loss of a life lived so richly. Katie and Diego, we will all help your daughter get to know their grandma by keeping her memory alive through our stories and through the impact she had on each of our lives. And that goes for every future great grandchild that God intends to bless this family with.

You may know that recently Barbara was named, “Woman of the Year.” But what you probably don’t know is how much her friends had to lie to her that night to surprise her with this honor! Barb and her girlfriends (including Karen) met for dinner once a week. And it just so happened that it was on their regular night. But they had a heck of time getting her to dress up to go to Nietos.

“Let’s dress up tonight to go out and eat.”

“Dress up for Nietos? Why?”

“Oh, it will be fun. We’re all doing it. Put a dress on.”

And she did...and they went out to Nietos. When they left, Barb asked, “Where are you going?”

“Oh, let’s just ride around for a while.”

They drove by the First Christian Church and Barb said, “I wonder what’s going on at the church?”

And Karen said, “I think it’s a craft fair or something. Let’s see.”

But once they got in, Barb understood that she had been duped. And she turned to Karen and said “You lied to me!”

Yep...Karen lied. All her friends lied to her that night. But they were so thrilled to see her receive recognition for her lifetime of hard work. You see, it had to be a surprise. Barb was humble. She didn’t seek recognition. She had a servant’s heart...a big heart.

Mom told me the other day, “When Barb and I would go away for the weekend, Barb would have to call three or four people to fill in for her in different places.” Then she looked at me, “There’s a lot of people filling in right now.”

Yes. Yes, there are. But we know that those shoes can never be filled, don’t we.

Thank you, Barb, for being an example of a strong woman, a caring woman, a selfless woman.

Mom and Barb’s toast on birthdays and every new year was always the same. And I hope you will all take it to heart, just as they do. “May you live as long as you want to, and want to as long as you live.”

The Music Room

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 23 Jan 2013 15:00:00 +0000

This morning as I was driving my twins to middle school, "Good Vibrations" was playing on the oldies station. The kids often get quizzed on their musical knowledge when riding in the vehicle with mom. And I asked, "Do you know who this is?"

"No." (Along with eye rolls and maybe a twinge of irritation in the voice.)

"What?!" And then I decided to give them some help. "Their initials are B.B."

Nothing.

"You don't know who this is? Come on." (...as I am singing along.)

Still nothing.

"It's the Beach Boys. Have you heard of the Beach Boys?"

At least I got a "yes" from that last question. But I realized that on some level of parenting, I have failed.

Driving home alone afterwards, I thought about my love of the Beach Boys when I was young. We had a "music room" in our house. Eventually this became my own bedroom, but up until I was twelve it was reserved for music...and business. Dad's desk was in there. But, you know, music and my dad have always went together. This was a good combination.

The room housed dad's desk and file cabinets...but also the piano and a massive entertainment center that covered the south wall. It had everything you could want--record and 8-track players, a radio, huge speakers, and an amazing collection of tape and vinyl.

How many hours did I spend as a child flipping through those record covers and selecting songs? How many hours did my parents spend doing the same? It seems there was always music floating through the house.

Of course, back then we couldn't just select a playlist and walk away to enjoy hours of music in the background of our day. Listening to music was intentional and time-consuming.

Select the record (I can still visualize many of those old album covers.), wait for the previous song to finish, carefully lift the needle, stop the turntable, remove the old record, put the record carefully back in its album sleeve, carefully remove the new record from its sleeve, place it on the turntable, select the appropriate speed for the record, find the track for the song you wish to hear, carefully lower the needle onto the blank groove prior to the song, and wait with anticipation through the snap and pop of vinyl background noise. While listening...start hunting for the next tune you want to hear in the vast collection of albums.

Hours and hours of pleasure! I was so certain that I would be a singer one day.

So, I had my own little collection of 45 singles and full-length albums...including the Beach Boys as well as Jan and Dean. (I was thrilled in college when I got to see Jan and Dean live at Worlds of Fun!)

The music room eventually became my bedroom while the music collection moved out to the living room area. But my room was still always full of music because my parents had instilled that love of song deep within me.

Albums gave way to cassettes. Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee, and Elvis gave way to Prince and Bruce who gave way to a multitude of hair bands.

And (too soon) I left my sweet little music room which had been such a huge and special part of my childhood.

But often in my mind I find myself back in our home at 109 Adams with the music loud and another vinyl record in my hands waiting for the song to finish.

The Concert of a Lifetime

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 22 Nov 2012 15:55:00 +0000

At a little after 4:30 on Saturday, November 17, as we (my sister--Lisa, my husband--Todd, my daughter--Tana, and I) stood in line with our bracelets that identified us as numbers 68, 69, 70, and 71 with about a thousand people who were participating in the general admission lottery system, they finally drew the number of the person who would be first to go into the barricaded area in front of the stage. They were going to allow 500 people in that area. When they drew 54, a shout went up in our section and we looked at each other with shocked faces. There were hugs, high fives, and multiple congratulations to and from strangers...along with some tears.

At that point, we entered the building--the 14th, 15th, 16th, and 17th people to enter. As we very, very slowly made it around the building (this long line of sequentially numbered people) we listened to the band do it's sound checks. Pretty soon, that included the sweet sound of Mr. Springsteen himself.

But by the time we finally entered the seating area, the stage was clear. We were walked down to the barricade area in an empty stadium. And we walked right up to the railing at the stage.

With lots of time to kill, we struck up a conversation with the couple beside us--Mike and Stephanie. They had flown in from New Jersey for the concert and were not part of the lottery system. They had connections. I'm not exactly sure what Stephanie's health issues are, but I would guess cerebral palsy. Before the lights were turned down, a security guard came down and handed them their backstage passes. From my conversations with her, it was apparent that she was part of the family.

We waited and visited and took pictures and waited some more. Finally at 8:30, the lights went out and the band began to take the stage. Of course, even with the lights down we could see everything going on. And when the stage lights came on, Bruce was at the front microphone.

They started with the song, "Kansas City". The set list also included 2) Prove It All Night 3) Candy's Room 4) She's the One 5) Hungry Heart 6) We Take Care of Our Own 7) Wrecking Ball 8) Death to My Hometown 9) My City in Ruins 10) The E Street Shuffle 11) Fire 12) Incident on 57th Street 13) Because the Night 14) Cover Me 15) Downbound Train 16) I'm on Fire 17) Shackled and Drawn 18) Waitin' on a Sunny Day 19) Raise Your Hand 20) The Rising 21) Badlands 22) Land of Hopes and Dreams 23) Light of Day 24) My Beautiful Reward 25) Born to Run 26) Dancing in the Dark 27) Santa Claus is Coming to Town 28) Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out.

During that very first song, he made a point to catch Stephanie's eye, smile, and mouth something to her. After his first harmonica solo, he walked up to her and got down on his knees in front of us to hand her his harmonica. Yes, I put my hand on his thigh at this point...I simply couldn't help myself. Throughout the concert he would point and smile at her, mouth something to her, or walk over beside her. It was very sweet and I found his concern and care for this young lady to be endearing.

With Bruce standing 10-15 feet in front of me for 90% of the concert, I completely forgot that there were thousands of people behind me. (I turned around and snapped this photo before the concert began.) It felt like a private show.

Honestly, my mind was almost numb. It was surreal. I don't even feel like I can recall it very well but my mind keeps replaying pieces of it over and over again. It's a strange thing. I hope that in time it is all processed and I remember it more sequentially. In fact, I took several days to post this because it has been so hard for me to wrap my mind around the whole event.

Completely unconcerned about being a pretty boy, he often blew his nose right onto the stage (Todd calls this a "farmer's blow"). I heard Tana exclaim, "Gross!" more than once. Between songs he would go dip his face in cold water. He was sweaty, soaked, snotty, and didn't seem to care a bit. It was all about his music and pleasing his fans.

For part of one song, I don't even know which one right now, he held my hand as he walked by me. You should know that Todd was quick to point out, "I think that was his snot hand."

When "Dancing in the Dark" was played, he is famous for allowing women on the stage to dance with him. He pointed out a girl and her mother behind us. In fact, they got on the stage in front of me--I was pushing them up as he was pulling them on stage. Yes, we completed a task together. Ha!

I was disappointed with the setlist at the time. There were some songs that I so badly wanted to see and hear. However, as I look at the list now, I realize that it was an amazing concert. With the repertoire of songs that this band has recorded and performed, there is no way that they can possibly play everyone's favorites. In fact, we met a guy from Madrid in line that has been to ten different shows on this tour and assured us that every show is a new experience.

You would never guess that this man is 63 years old. He crowd surfed during "Born to Run" from the middle of the floor back to the stage, he jumped up and down from the piano, and he squatted down and leaned back clear to the floor and then picked himself back up...like a young man. Of course, his face and body have aged. However, several times throughout the evening I caught glimpses of a young Bruce when he would lose himself in a song or be simply caught up in the joy of his music. Those moments brought tears to my eyes. Yes, you can tell that he loves his music and his fans. How else could he keep up the rigorous tour of 2012 with it's record length shows and world travel?

Will I go again one day? I hope so. Although I realize that the experience I had a few days ago will never be repeated, I also realize that I would enjoy the perspective of distance where I would see the whole show and not just be focused on Bruce. (There were other band members on stage?)

And besides that, maybe I'd get to hear a little Johnny 99, Seeds, or Darlington County. (Sigh...)

The End is Near

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 19:40:00 +0000

I don't remember who recommended that first Harry Potter book to me, but I know I was mesmerized. The amazing detail of Harry's fantastical wizarding world had me totally spellbound (pun intended) from the very beginning.

Over the next 13 years, I was constantly anticipating that next book or that next movie. I remember purchasing one book on the way to the lake and having it almost finished before we got home. Another book was purchased on the day it came out in an airport bookstore on the way to some educational conference somewhere. What a great way to spend an airplane ride or two!

That first book came out the year my babies were born...1998. How many late nights, doctor waiting rooms, afternoons at the pool, and long rides did Harry and his magical friends help me endure?

Not only that...but I also discovered them in audio format. Have you ever listened to the audio books? The narration is beautiful with a British accent that makes them so darn charming. Miles and miles have been put on my vehicles going to and from meetings with the drama of Snape and the silliness of the Weasley twins occupying my thoughts.

As the movies have come out, I have been delighted with the directors' abilities to put on the screen the pictures that were in my head. Yes, they have had to cut them down...leaving out precious details here and there, and yet I'm always "Wow-ed".

And it's ending.

This young man and his friends that have been a part of our lives for 13 years are leaving us with only the memories. We've loved some. We've despised some. We misunderstood many at one time or another. They made us laugh. They made us think. They broke our hearts. They gave us hope.

In the meantime, my son graduated high school, then went off to college and the Navy. My toddler transformed into a beautiful teenager. (She attended the midnight viewing last night with her friends. They only know life with a new Harry Potter adventure just around the corner!) My twins were born and have grown into Junior High kids.

What a perfect time in my life to have such magical company!

What a bittersweet day as I say a much anticipated goodbye to my friends.

Thank you for the memories, Harry. I look forward to introducing you to my grandchildren one day.

Rock 'n' Roll Quizzes

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 01:24:00 +0000

Today I took the kids to celebrate Great Grandma Tucker's 93rd birthday at a lunch at the Carriage Crossing in Yoder. We met her, Grandma Tyler, Aunt Della, and Aunt Johnie for a nice visit.

On the way there, the kids were particularly quiet. We were running late (as usual). Annie listened to her iPod, Tana texted, and Andy...well, Andy did whatever it is that he does in his quietness.

After lunch I took them to see mom's office and meet my coworkers, grabbed some paperwork, and we headed home. However, this time we put some effort into finding a song on the radio. And that's when it started....The Quiz.

I'm sure Heath suffered through many rounds of this little game when he was growing up as well. If mom finds a good "classic rock" radio station, it will inevitably happen.

A song starts, the lightbulb comes on in my head, and I have to sing along. "Do you know who this is?" If they have to think a while, I just keep singing along.

Sometimes they need hints: "What's the initials?" Sometimes they ask the song name. Is it an artist or a band? They have actually gotten pretty good at this little game and often surprise me.

The first one today was Rock Me (one of my very favorite songs) by Great White. They couldn't get this one. In fact, I don't think they had ever heard the song. However, they liked it. Well, of course they did.

And then it happened.

All of a sudden I was a kid again. I think my family was camping somewhere because we were all in the pea green Ram Charger. Dad and mom were in front while us kids were piled in the back. Lisa had to be very, very young.

My dad had the radio tuned to a good station and after each song started he asked, "Do you know who this is?" I remember listening very hard to try to figure it out, comparing the voice to all of the music that I knew as a child. And each time I was sure I was right when I would say, "It's Elvis!" They would laugh and I would be wrong...again. But with the next song, I was just sure I would be right. I wonder how many times I guessed the singer to be Elvis that night. Surely I was eventually right.

Then the memory was gone and I was back in my own vehicle with my own kids. But I shared this memory with them.

We heard lots of songs and they made lots of guesses over the next 50 miles. Some of them they got right...ZZ Top, Rolling Stones, even Tom Petty! And others they didn't....the Eagles (really?!), CCR, and Lynyrd Skynyrd.

But Tana said it best during Proud Mary when she stated, "I like the Elvis version better." Ha...most people don't even realize that Elvis ever sang this as a cover.

That's my girl.

Make Me Laugh

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 31 Jul 2010 18:01:00 +0000

This evening I watched Julie and Julia with my mother-in-law. She gave us a scare this week when her blood pressure shot up. After bringing her home from the hospital, resting, and making her dinner, it was nice to enjoy a chick flick…just the two of us.

When I was a kid, Julia Child’s TV show was common entertainment in our house. I don’t know why it appealed to my sisters and me, but it did. There was something about the combination of food, her personality, and the sound of her voice that made us tune in…and want to imitate her.

There were many nights when we were young that all of us girls would pile into one bed. I remember a time in particular that mom pushed the twin beds together in Susan and my room so that we had one king-size bed. Casy, the oldest, had her own room (with her own bathroom!) and Lisa, the baby, had her own room (with horrible pastel-striped shag carpet) while Susan and I shared a large room between them.

Our favorite bedtime game was one that we made up. It was called, “Make Me Laugh.” One of us would stand at the end of the bed and try to make the rest of us laugh. Whoever laughed first went next. We told dumb jokes, sang goofy songs, acted like clowns, and Susan would pretend to be Julia.

She had the imitation nailed! But what really made it funny was Susan’s own little twist. As Julia, Susan would pretend to steal nips from the cooking sherry. If you’ve ever heard Julie Child’s unique voice, it’s easy to imagine it belonging to someone who is half inebriated. Susan would really play it up…and, oh, we would laugh.

Right before Lisa went into the Navy, we all met in Hugoton to spend time with Dad and Mom. While there we went in to Raycolor to get a “sister” picture taken. As we were driving back out to the house that afternoon in dad’s pickup, Susan spoke up, “Those pictures aren’t going to be very good.” Casy asked, “What? Why not?” Susan’s response was, “Well, I didn’t smile.” We were all confused. Casy asked, “Why didn’t you smile?” None of us will never forget Susan’s answer. As serious as a heart-attack she said, “They didn’t say anything funny.” A moment of dead silence passed as we all processed this bit of information, and then the three of us burst out laughing. It is one of our favorite private jokes.

Apparently the years of making each other laugh spoiled Susan. Maybe we should’ve given her a few nips of cooking sherry first.

Let There Be Rock

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 14 May 2010 04:42:00 +0000

I knew it was a CD, of course, before I pulled off the paper. After all, it was the right shape and size. Todd looked pretty excited for me to open it, too. Hmmmm. When I unwrapped it, the new AC/DC Ironman II CD (don’t forget the bonus DVD video footage!) was in my hands. Todd reached out and grabbed it, “Let me see! Oh look, there’s a little book and pictures!” He was all over it. Music blared from different CD players throughout the day as Todd worked on his different projects. The next morning as I was headed to work I texted him, “Where’s my CD?” His response, “In my pickup.” And a minute later, “Oops.” Tuesday morning, however, when I turned the ignition, Bon Scott was screaming at me in time with the guitars and drums.

In 1986 “Who Made Who” along with the Stephen King movie, “Maximum Overdrive”, was released. I’m a huge Stephen King fan so when it came to the Showtime Theater in Hugoton, I was there. Now I was raised with three sisters but my parents were introduced by Gary and Janice Porter so our families grew up together. Jim was the closest thing I had to a brother. As kids we played baseball, fished, swam, and often pretended we were the Six-Million-Dollar Man and the Bionic Woman. As teens, I remember when he got that powder blue step-side Ford. I think he drove it straight to my house to show me. Well, he offered to go with me to the show. As I think back, I’m sure he was more interested in the soundtrack than the movie itself. And I became an overnight AC/DC fan.

Julie and I made lots of trips to Liberal in those years. During one trip soon after purchasing the AC/DC album that first caught my attention, I decided to buy an older release. So the second addition to my AC/DC collection was “Let There Be Rock”. As we drove home, I had it cranked up (as usual). After all that loud music (my dad was great at picking vehicles with awesome stereo systems) you would think that I would be hard of hearing. Julie often got tired of the blaring guitars but I didn’t take kindly to people messing with my volume knob. I remember pulling into the drive, turning off the pickup, and Julie and I both commenting something like, “That sucks.” Then laughing. But, that cassette often ended up playing on those crazy high school weekends…and we soon knew the tunes and the words.

My life took some unexpected turns over the next several years. When Tiff caught up with me in college and talked me into getting a babysitter and going out with the girls, I’ll never forget cruising to the Golden Q in her red 1988 TransAm with “Thunderstruck” vibrating our seats. For the first time in a while, I felt young and alive. Little did I know that within the last several months she had went to see AC/DC in concert with my future husband and his buddies. She introduced us to each other on a blind date a few months later.

They had gone to the “Razor’s Edge” concert in Manhattan. I’m not sure who all was with them but I’m pretty sure of Andy (Jack), Jeff (Macster), Wade (Hipper) Todd, Todd’s girlfriend (I won’t name names to avoid embarrassing her), and Tiffany. There may have been others but, of course, I was not around yet. The Scrüe made their way to the front row. Brian, Angus, Malcolm, and Cliff were close enough to drip sweat on them occasionally. Somehow (and honestly I don’t want the details) Todd ended up with his girlfriend’s black, lacy, strapless bra in his hands. After getting Brian’s attention, he threw it up to him. Mr. Johnson wiped the sweat off his face and threw it back to Todd. The poor girl’s underwear immediately became a trophy and hung on his dorm wall until she came to get it after they broke up.

This past year when I saw that AC/DC was coming to Kansas City right after Todd’s birthday, I bought the perfect present--tickets. Sadly, I can’t keep a good secret so he found out pretty quickly. After waiting through a six-month postponement, we walked into the Sprint Center. Although there was an opening act, it was completely unnecessary. They took the stage and "they, they, they blew our minds." As we watched and sang and danced, memories flooded both of our minds. When they played their new song, “Big Jack”, I looked over and tears were streaming down Todd’s face. How can it be that music can touch you so deeply that you can completely relive moments from your past? We weren’t just there with Kris and Lisa, all of our friends were there with us…grinning like fools.

Tonight as I tore down wallpaper, Todd came in and said, “Hey, do you want to watch the AC/DC special bonus DVD while you’re doing that?” “Sure,” I said. Throughout the next hour or so, I listened and sang and stopped to watch every now and then. But my favorite part of the evening was periodically glancing at Todd to see him mesmerized by the live footage and smiling at his own memories.

And it came to pass that rock 'n' roll was born.
All across the land every rockin' band was blowin' up a storm.
And the guitar man got famous. The business man got rich.
And in every bar there was a superstar with a seven-year itch.
There was fifteen million fingers learnin' how to play,
And you could hear the fingers pickin' and this is what they had to say…

…Let there be rock

--Bon Scott, 1977

Larry Tyler: November 23, 1939 to April 25, 2010

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 01:46:00 +0000

Jeanette rolled Beverly into the hospital room and right over to Larry’s bedside. We had been waiting for the last sister to arrive. She immediately stood up out of the wheelchair, leaned close, and said, “Larry, Beverly’s here. I’m here.” Then she started to sing. “One glad morning when this life is o’er, I’ll fly away…”

He was the 6th of 8 kids and grew up poor. By 8 or 9 he was driving a tractor to help support his family. They were an ornery bunch. The sisters tell stories of Marty and him playing tricks on them while they were in the outhouse and riding the girls’ tricycle until it fell apart. He had a dog named Queenie (who ended up being a tripod) and then many, many more pets after her. Larry loved his pets. According to the sisters, one of the dogs was riding with him when he was pulling a plow once and jumped out. Before Larry could do anything about it, the dog had been killed. He was so upset that he couldn’t even tell anyone. For three days he was physically sick and wouldn’t even talk until they finally got it out of him.

His nieces and nephews didn’t call him Uncle Larry…it was Uncle Red. And it’s no surprise! Larry was always a tall, thin man with a shock of red hair and an ornery smile. It’s no wonder he caught the eye of a petite, dark-haired beauty—Carol Hayden. The two of them must’ve made striking young couple.

God gave Larry many gifts, but one of the most extraordinary was his musical talent. Without ever having a lesson, he was able to pick up a guitar or sit at a piano and play a tune. But it didn’t end there, he could also sing. And he wasn’t the only talented Tyler…they could all sing! My goodness, Beverly could play any instrument she ever picked up. How many family gathering were filled with the blessing of the Tyler kids playing and singing gospel and bluegrass?

After Brenda came along, Larry and Carol struggled to have more children. It broke their hearts when Bruce was stillborn. God blessed them with Todd a few years later and the doctor let them know how much he looked like his older brother. What adventures he and Carol had with their two children! When Todd was only about 3, Larry decided it would be a good idea to take the family out for a drive…on the motorcycle. That’s right! All four of them went for a ride out on a motorcycle. All would’ve probably been fine, if a spray plane hadn’t been out doing a job. Carol looked back and started hollering that there was a plane coming. Brenda remembers is vividly. Larry gunned it and they sped down the dirt road trying to outrun the plane. Apparently the plane pilot never even saw them because, before it could hit them, Larry laid the bike over with his whole family on it to avoid a collision. The good Lord must’ve been watching over them because nobody was injured. But they sure had a hard time convincing Todd to get back on that thing to go home.

Larry worked for more than 20 years for City Service which became Williams Natural Gas. He was a good provider for his family and was always willing to help those in need. Through those years, he walked his daughter down the aisle, welcomed a new daughter-in-law into the family, and became a grandpa 7 times over.

Each grandchild was special to Larry. Of course, Tyler was first and given his grandfather’s surname as his first name. He was beautiful with his blond hair and bright blue eyes. Soon after, Joel came along with his shy and loving personality. Nevin was third—such a stressful pregnancy and tiny little guy. It was a relief when he entered the world and both he and his momma were safe and healthy. Larry inherited his next grandchild when Todd married and became an instant father to 5-year-old Heath. Larry and the whole family took in Heath as his own. The three older grandsons got along famously and looked like brothers with their blond heads and tanned skin. Before a year passed, a granddaughter (Tana Carol) stole Larry’s heart when she entered the world on a cold, snowy day. He doted on this precious granddaughter and she loved to spend time with him. Finally, the last two grandchildren came along. Andrew and Annie were a handful but, although he wasn’t willing to change a diaper, he was always willing to hold or play with them. He enjoyed watching his son be so involved with each of his babies. The world was certainly different than it was back when Brenda and Todd were small. Andy reminded him so much of Todd…quiet and shy, while Annie was always crawling up in Grandpa’s lap. Just like Tana before her, Annie was crazy about him.

The twins weren’t very old, however, when Alzheimer’s started stealing grandpa away. By the time that Tyler left us too early and so suddenly, Larry was confused enough that he really struggled to understand what had happened to his beloved first grandson. Over the last several years, Larry has forgotten how to play his music, the names of his family members, and even his ability to communicate with others. However there have been rare times of clarity when he has plucked out parts of a favorite song on a piano or sang along to one of his favorite old tunes. All have been thankful that through his battle with this disease, God has blessed him with a happy-go-lucky disposition. Larry never lost his gift of gab…even when he called you by “Honey” rather than your name.

Larry’s legacy was made long before Alzheimer’s stole his mind. It was made through his years of hard work, love, generosity, faithfulness, humor, and responsibility. He will be remembered, not as a confused old man, but as the happy-go-lucky “Red” of his younger years. His gifts will stay with those he loved the rest of their lives. We were so blessed to have him.

His last night on this earth, Beverly continued to sing to him and the other sisters joined in—Sharon, Jeanette, and Kathy along with Sam, Ranee, Brenda, Carol, Todd, and I. Even the nurses out at the nurse’s station said they were singing. Yes, there were some missed notes and forgotten words, but it was still beautiful…and perfect.

Childhood Evenings: Quilts, Boots, and Mom's Hair

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 27 Mar 2010 04:01:00 +0000

Evenings in our home when I was growing up were cozy family affairs. We always had sit-down dinners with each of us having our place at the table. (Casy sat beside my dad in what he called the “training seat”.) Even after Casy and then Susan left for college, we continued to sit in the same places with their seats left empty. After dinner, we retreated to the family room to watch TV as a family.

I remember primetime including Little House on the Prairie, Happy Days, Laverne and Shirley, and The Waltons. (Saturday nights we watched Love Boat and Fantasy Island.) If you left your seat, someone else was likely to steal it while you were out of the room. Dad usually lay on the shag carpeting with a quilt made by our Great Grandma Mostrom. (I still have mine and was snuggled under it tonight!) Of course, dad was also famous for kicking back in his recliner and then asking the daughter who happened to walk by, “Would you pull off my boots?” He always wore boots. My father very rarely wore tennis shoes when I was a kid.

My mother, however, almost always sat in front of one of us on the floor and asked, “Do you want to do my hair?” We had containers of barrettes, curlers, combs, brushes, pony tail holders, and bobby pins. I wonder how many hours each of us spent fixing my mother’s hair. Sometimes we tried hard to make her look beautiful while other times we did our best to make her look silly. She didn’t care—she just loved the feel of her girls playing with her hair. Her famous line when we handed her the handheld mirror was, “Now if we could just do something about the face!” This just made us chuckle. We knew she was beautiful with her perfect smile and adorable dimple.

As I think back about it, I can almost feel and even smell her hair. She always kept it fairly short and I don’t remember a time that she didn’t color it. We had these horrible black poky curlers with pink plastic pens to hold them in place. I remember filling her hair with these and then pretending the curls were set so I could take them out, style her hair, and spray it with hairspray. We had Dippity Doo to hold stray hairs in place and Happy Hair to help get out the tangles.

When we go home to visit now, my mom often sits in front of one of the granddaughters and asks, “Would you like to do my hair?” My girls have both had the pleasure of styling my mother’s hair as she sat patiently and enjoyed the attention while they watched something together on TV.

Yesterday at Tana’s first swim meet, Annie sat in front of me in the bleachers. After a while, she turned around and asked, “Mom, will you mess with my hair?” I didn’t have the brushes, bobby pins, or curlers so I just used my fingers to comb her hair. When I would get distracted and stop, she would turn around and beg me to continue. She’s so much like my mom…especially when she flashes that dimple.

Andy and the Toilet Incident

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 16:46:00 +0000

When Andy was little we made regular visits to the emergency room. That boy scared us so many times. Here are a few examples:

At his 2nd Christmas while visiting the Zieglers, I noticed that he was chewing on something. (Andy was always putting things in his mouth.) So I told him to open up so I could see. What I saw was a mouthful of blood and glass! He was chewing on a Christmas ornament.
I can’t remember how old he was when I caught him in the kitchen with medicine bottles and pills on the floor around him. I didn’t know what he had taken or how much. So…I gave him some Ipecac and called the Poison Control Center in a total panic. After telling them the kinds of pills that were out and starting to count, they told me he was in no danger. I asked why he didn’t throw up and they told me that it takes about half of hour. Half an hour?! What good is that?! Sure enough, about half an hour later I felt horribly guilty while holding my puking little guy. At this point I was pretty sure he’d swallowed nothing and was wondering what in the heck was going on.
We made multiple trips for steri strips and stitches from hitting the coffee table, wall, tub, etc. He once almost tore his ear in half when Tana pushed him off the bed. After a while, I felt pretty nervous walking into the Greeley County Emergency Room. My explanations sounded fake even to me!
The incident requiring the most stitches happened on a bicycle ride. After being warned repeatedly to watch out for the mud in the gutters (he was enjoying making tire tracks) he finally fell. I turned around to help him up. As I pulled my bicycle up beside him I realized that he was bleeding. His right handlebar was stuck in the left side of his neck! The rubber gripper had come off a while back and the exposed metal was sharp enough to pierce. I ran into the nearest house and called 911. It had stopped short of his esophagus and missed any veins or arteries. This ER trip required internal as well as external stitches.

After almost losing Andy when he was so young, it really scared me that he was so accident prone. I was afraid he would never make it through his childhood.

On to the story…

Now, Andy is one of those males who can spend an easy half hour on the toilet. He has always been this way. In fact, we waited outside the Bramlage men’s bathroom for 10 minutes after the coliseum had cleared out once!

After one such episode when he was 3 or 4, I was in the bathroom to run the kids bath and noticed that he had forgotten to flush. Upon looking into the toilet bowl I was terrified to see that mixed in with the normal body waste were these grape-looking things.

To fully understand the terror I felt, you need to know that Todd had a cousin that died at a very young age due to cancer. The family would describe grape-like things that came out of her during baths and such. I had never heard of such a thing. But when I saw the mess in the toilet, I knew that Andy had cancer.

Almost hysterical, I ran to get Todd. We asked Andy what it was and he didn’t seem to have any idea. Of course, it surely scared him that I was so scared. I told Todd that I was taking Andy to the emergency room and that he needed to stay home with the other children. Then I got a glass from the kitchen, scooped up some of the offending material, grabbed Andy, and headed to the hospital.

The emergency room was empty that night (ah…the blessing of a small town) so the nurse took us to a room and I explained the situation. I knew all of the gals there, not just from our frequent ER visits but also from having their kids in class. After an inspection, the doctor was called. As we waited for him to come, I tearfully explained about Todd’s cousin and that I was terrified that it was the same horrible cancer. Several nurses came in and out to see this strange phenomenon. None of them had seen anything like it and they all seemed just as scared as I was!

Before the doctor came in, however, Todd came in.

While bathing Annie after we left, he noticed the toilet roll holder lying on the floor. This was not just a typical metal roll holder with a spring inside. It was a plastic slotted roll holder filled with scented granules. However, it was broken and some granules were lying on the floor and some were wet and bloated from splashed bath water. In fact, with some more water they could be bloated up like a grape.

Andy had apparently kept himself entertained on the pot by playing with this cool new toy.

Todd walked into the emergency room to see me and some nurses seriously inspecting a glass full of toilet water, poop, and scented granules. After an explanation (with broken toilet roll holder in hand), we left the ER to guffaws of laughter. But it was with great relief that we took our son and filthy glass back home.

My Wedding Ring

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 20:12:00 +0000

I lost it. It's gone.

Last Sunday I went to the YMCA and realized I hadn't removed my wedding ring. So I took it off and put it in my cupholder. I remember thinking at the time that someone could break in and steal it. I very, very rarely remove it. That's the last time I remember seeing it.

That ring is more than just a ring to me. It's been part of me for over 15 years. The poor thing has been through a lot.

In the late spring of 1993, Todd took me ring shopping. First I had a to sign a hand-written contract saying that I would keep my mouth shut about it! The first store we went to was Woelk's Diamond Jewelers in Russell, KS. The first ring we looked at was mine. It was an original! We never found another ring that we liked as much.

Todd officially proposed to me over the Fourth of July that year. He only had the engagement ring portion because, as a poor college guy, the other part was still at Woelk's while he made the payments.

In August that year I started my first teaching job. It was rough being away for Todd for that semester but I was very busy coaching volleyball and being a single mother to a kindergartener. One morning I woke up and my ring finger was swollen up. Something had bit me during the night. The ring wouldn't budge and the swelling kept getting worse. School hadn't started and I had my girls doing two-a-day practices. After early morning practice I called Todd crying. Heath and I drove to Dighton and I had it cut off. It was traumatic!

The night before Todd and I were married, he went out with his buddies for his bachelor party--Todd, Mac, Jack, Hank, and Jeremy. They even met up with some Hugoton guys while they were out that night in Liberal. Jack and Mac got tickets that night for the "intent" of relieving themselves in the fountain on Main Street. (They got out of those!) When the guys got back to Jer's house, my ring was gone. In a panic, they started searching. The velvet-covered box was found on the floor. It had been chewed up by Shadow, Jer's German Shepherd. However, when they opened it my ring was still inside it without a scratch. I still have that box.

Since then it has rarely left my hand. The underside of the ring is thin from so much wear. Over the years I've cleaned many substances out of its nooks and crannies--everything from baby poop to cookie dough to hair product. In fact, it has become a tradition to sit at dad and mom's kitchen bar over the 4th of July with my sisters and mother and clean all of our rings together while we share stories about our year. Weird tradition, I know. (I never said my family was normal!)

It has been in numerous lakes and both the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. It has been made bigger and then bigger and, when my finger got thinner, I wrapped taped around it so I could still wear it until it was made smaller. I've lost a diamond that was replaced. I've had the prongs built up. Many people have commented on its uniqueness...and to this day I have never seen another like it.

It even has a flaw that only makes it more endearing to me. You can actually see the flaw with your bare eye. Anytime I got it cleaned or fixed or resized, I looked to make sure that my flaw was there. It was MY ring and MY flaw.

It's been there through our ups and downs. Wow, marriage is quite a journey. I know it's just a piece of jewelry, but it represents so much to me.

And now it is gone.

It's funny how my trust in God affects how I look at everything. Even this makes me think that after 15 years--raising kids, changing careers, moving, growing apart and together in the ebb and flow that is a marriage--maybe a fresh start is in order.

And, who knows, maybe one day God will make sure it's returned to me. In the meantime, I'll be perfectly happy with a band.

Funny Things My Kids Say--Part 6

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 01:34:00 +0000

The other day we were having company for dinner. For dessert, I purchased two chocolate chip cookie mixes. However, that evening I had a headache. Knowing that my daughter likes to bake, I called Tana up and asked her if she would mix and bake the cookies for me. She was happy to do so.

I laid down to take a short nap and try to quash the ache in my head. But too soon I was awakened by the smell of burning cookies. Lying there, I heard Todd hollering for Tana and listened as she removed the sad little things from the oven.

After a few more minutes, I got up to check out the damage. Yep, they were pretty burned.

What had happened? I wondered if she got distracted by homework or the computer. Did she forget to set the timer? Did she have her iPod going and just not hear? So I called her up to get the scoop.

I asked, “What happened to the cookies?”

Tana answered, “I only cooked them a little over 10 minutes…about 12 minutes!”

Hmmm… “Tana, the package says to cook them 8 to 10 minutes. Since you like chewy cookies, you should’ve taken them out at 8 minutes.”

And Tana answered, “I wasn’t sure how long to cook them since I doubled the recipe.”

I found that burnt chocolate chip cookies go down best when served warm with laughter.

Summer 2009: The funny, fearsome, and fascinating!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 05:10:00 +0000

As far as my summers go, this one ranked up there. Rather than working on my dissertation or consulting on educational grant projects, I simply enjoyed the time with my kids. As I reflect on the last couple of months, I realize that we’ve had some interesting adventures and observations.

*****
Both girls were participating in a softball tournament in town one Saturday. It was a hectic and wet morning. (The tournament was eventually cancelled due to rain.) Between the first two games, Todd went to the car to get some umbrellas when he noticed an older woman on her little Rascal.

The grouchy old lady had driven off the sidewalk and was trying to get her Rascal back up on the cement. Todd was passing a man with a dog on a leash and she was shrieking at him: “You need to keep an eye on your dog!” The situation got Todd’s attention and he turned to see how the man was handling this public scolding. The man turned around and yelled, “I’m blind! Okay?!”

That’s when Todd noticed the white cane and realized that this “seeing eye” dog apparently doesn’t yield to personal mobility vehicles.

*****
Did you notice the large, fluorescent green, flying beetles this summer? Where did these things come from?!

*****
One evening Todd and I decided to make a Walmart run. The kids love to come along on these excursions in the hopes of scoring a new toy or trinket. On this occasion, Annie and the little girls from across the street came running over to the yard. Todd told them that we were running to the store and Tana would be in charge.

Annie begged to come along but Dad was firm and told her she had to stay home this time. In reply Annie said, “Fine. We’ll just shake our butts and leave!” With that, the three girls turned and walked away.

*****
Over the 4th of July weekend we all (except Lisa’s clan) went to Dad and Mom’s. While the grandkids set off fireworks, we all enjoyed the nice weather and each other’s company. With all of our families together, we always end up with lots of fireworks to enjoy. The kids have a ball lighting, laughing, and running.

Dad has a large cement slab outside the shed that doubles as a launching pad every year. With our folding chairs in a semi-circle, everyone had a great view. Of course, we were also telling stories and jokes as well as taking pictures. There’s always lots of laughter when we are all together.

Mike, Jessi, and Caitie were handling the larger fireworks. We had several mortars that were dropped in a tube so that they would shoot straight up. They were some pretty powerful explosives and made for a beautiful display. However, Mike accidently knocked one over after lighting it—facing directly into our chairs. Marc calmly said, “That’s not good.” Feeling like the world was going in slow motion, Mike yelled, “Ruuuuunnnnnnn!!!!”

Everyone scrambled except Andy who stood there like a deer in the headlights. There were also three of us still in our chairs—Brandee was taking Dad and my picture. We were totally oblivious to all the excitement until things started lighting up!

BTW—the picture of Dad and I is really good!

*****
Speaking of Brandee, somehow she got on a “texting list” to get helpful dating tips for the single guy. Once every week or so, one of these little gems would come across her phone. Here’s a couple of my favorite:

If you have a pet, take a picture of it and put it in your wallet. If a honey asks if you have someone special in your life, take it out and show it to her.

When you meet someone new, tell her that you are 20 years older than you really are. Then say, “Don’t I look good for my age?”

If you’re talking to two honeys, don’t mack on either of them. Instead, get your swerve on and let them fight for your attention.

Oh, what great tips! I can just picture the chubby dork down his momma’s basement sending these to desperate men. Each of them ends with “For help, call…” and a phone number!

*****
Tana and I went for many long evening walks. On one occasion a neighbor was outside scolding her dog. We’re not sure what the dog had done but laughed and laughed when we heard, “You’re just a furry sack of tators! Yes you are! You’re just a furry sack of tators!”

What in the world does THAT mean?

*****
Jeff and Kim have a ghost that their children refer to as the “dark boy.” When we stayed with them over Memorial Weekend, I think we got his bedroom. Besides getting locked in our room FROM THE INSIDE one night, Todd found his Solo cup that he’d placed on top of the fridge had bite marks all around the rim the next morning.

*****
One afternoon the kids and I went with Shanel and her kids on a day trip to Kanopolis Lake. It was the perfect day to go out there—hot and still. We took lots of snacks and floaties. While the kids played, we laid out on the water or on the sand.

I was out on my floatie enjoying the heat of the sun and cool of the water, when I noticed the stench of something dead and rotting. I looked around because it hadn’t been there before and nobody else seemed to be noticing it. The kids were on the beach digging in the sand with shovels and buckets. I vaguely thought, “Hmmm…I wonder if they dug something up?”

Within a few minutes they started screaming. Andy had a dead, rotting, fairly large fish on his little plastic shovel. The whole beach reeked with the horrific odor! Everyone out there was just thrilled with this discovery.

I had them go further down the beach, dig a hole, and bury it.

*****
The people who lived here before us were antique collectors. In our backyard was a pile of old bricks from Kansas brick roads. This summer I used them to design and create a brick patio in our backyard that we will enjoy for many years to come.

*****
One day we decided to go with Brandee to Manhattan for a day trip. The idea was to pick up her nieces and nephews so that we could all go swimming together. Well, it ended up being an eventful day. After picking up the kids in Wamego, we made the drive back to Manhattan only to discover that the pool was closed. So, we drove back to Wamego to swim in their pool. After about ½ hour, the kids had to get out because there was a floater. No, not a dead body. Fecal matter in a pool requires a bit of sanitization before the swimmers can return.

What a day—lots of driving with little action! When we dropped the kids back off at home, their parents were there. We visited for a few minutes then headed out to the vehicle. On the way, one of the kids said, “Andy ate some dog food!” We were all outside at this point. I looked at Andy and said, “Well, what did it taste like, buddy?” Then I chuckled because I knew they were expecting a totally different reaction from Mom. Then Andy responded, “Just like every other dog food.”

After the laughter died down, I was able to inquire about his dog food sampling history.

*****
As Tana and I were walking tonight we had a great time recounting our summer stories for possible inclusion in my blog. We also tried thinking of a title using different letters and finally decided on “F” even though Tana thought that beginning the school year this way might be a bad omen. It’s funny--sometimes our walks are completely quiet with both of us lost in a comfortable silence filled with our own thoughts while other walks are a gabfest punctuated with giggling.

Man…I’m blessed.

The 4th of July!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 10:41:00 +0000

The 4th of July is my favorite holiday.

Every town has their special “day” or event. In Salina it’s the River Festival. In Todd’s hometown it’s Satanta Day. In Tribune it’s the Greeley County Fair. But in Hugoton it is the 4th of July.

The morning of Independence Day starts early in Hugoton with events at the park and a parade. As a child, I remember eagerly anticipating this morning each summer. Our park was beautiful—full of large trees which provided lots of shade, playground equipment, and the pool. There was always a dunking booth, cake walk, three-legged race, face painting, sack race, turtle race, egg toss, sawing contest, ring toss, and bingo. But some years brought interesting new ideas. I remember one year when two people took turns sitting on a horizontal pole over a Port-a-Pit and pelted each other with padded sticks until one fell off.

The morning always ended with a swimsuit beauty contest. Don’t get too excited—the participants were all under the age of 6! Dressed in their cutest swimsuit, little boys and girls would parade around the pool getting introduced over a loud speaker as spectators crowded around the chain link fence to get a good view and take pictures. Although I remember participating in this event, I certainly didn’t win.

When Domino’s opened (not the Pizza chain but a tasty little burger joint owned by great guy that had this for a nickname), my family began the annual tradition of walking there from the park and eating lunch together. Nowadays, this requires a pretty big table—not to mention a race with the Stegman’s, who at some point started the same tradition!

Somewhere along the way, the boys quit coming to the park with us and began their own little tradition of golfing with Dad all morning while Mom, my sisters, and I chase the kids around the park and have fun catching up with old friends who have returned for the annual festivities.

By this date each year, wheat harvest was complete and my folks and their friends were ready to unwind. We often got together with friends for some type of party. The parents sat around in lawn chairs while we blew things up all afternoon with big metal coffee cans full of firecrackers. At some point, one of my brothers-in-law brought a potato gun. After that, the boys worked together to design and build another one to perfection. From that year on, as my sisters and I played with the kids, the boys shot the potato gun. It always cracked us up that they laughed long and hard after EVERY shot! This led up to Tana’s famous line to Aunt Casy (probably at about 4 years old), “I love fireworks day. I love potato day.” Mom learned quickly to stock up on potatoes and cheap hairspray.

My hometown always put on a great fireworks display at the Babe Ruth baseball diamond. I remember being impatient for the baseball game to end. Between the game and nightfall there was typically a coin hunt in a pile of hay. With my asthma, I never got to participate in this exciting event. Everyone would park out there and sit in the stands, lawn chairs, the pickup beds to “ooh” and “ahh” at the sight. It always ended with an American Flag that would light up for a few seconds before fizzling out to signal the end. In the last several years this has been held at the Dirtona Raceway but most often at the high school football field where spectators sit in the bleachers and are often treated to some type of entertainment prior to the display.

Back at home, the fun really began. This is when Dad drug out the night fireworks that he had purchased. Grown men are just like excited children when it comes to fireworks! Typically we had a driveway full of friends and a huge stockpile of things to light up. In town we simply lit these in the street. Now that my folks live in the country, we use the cement slab by the shed—unless it’s been a particularly dry summer. My husband and brothers-in-law share that same ornery gleam that my Dad always has in his eye when it’s time to light ‘em up. The grandkids all take turns helping with this task with shrieks of fear and excitement.

Over the years, we’ve deviated from this typical schedule on occasion. Many of these years, work kept someone away. One year Heath was recovering from surgery in Wichita and we watched the fireworks over there. When the twins were babies, I remember being exhausted and staying at Dad and Mom’s to watch from the window while everyone went into town. Of course, I’ll never forget the Independence Day weekend of 1991 when we lost Thad, Carrie, and Delbert. Remembering Thad’s ornery grin will always be part of this day for me.

So many have given so much to give us the freedoms that we enjoy in this wonderful country—the United States of America. I know that I was blessed to be born in this country and raised in Hugoton, Kansas. No wonder this is my favorite holiday. Happy 4th of July!

Detentions!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 13:59:00 +0000

Just for the record...I only got sent to the Principal's office twice while attending Hugoton Elementary, Middle, and High Schools. Both times Brooke was in with me!

In 5th grade we were in Mr. Calvert's class. Brooke and I sat in the back left corner with Shannon and either Jana or Rene in front of us. Over in the back right corner sat the trio of Billy, Darren, and Jeff. They loved to torment us. We, however, also found little ways to get under their skin. (I remember, for instance, calling them "Lilly Beeper" and "Karen Dark".)

I'm going to side-track for just a minute here because I LOVED Mr. Calvert's class. Here are some highlights from that year:

We listened to music often--Flying Purple People Eater, I love a Rainy Night (I can picture Thad and Lance on the front row singing this and bobbing their heads back and forth!), The Tide is High...

Jolly Ranchers--these were our "prizes" for different activities.

Short Stories--I remember going to the the little custodial closet to record my short story on a cassette player. At the end of the year we walked to his house for a field trip and listened to all of them! We thought they were all so funny.

As we walked back to class from PE, cutting across the playground, Aaron punched Brooke which knocked the wind out of her, which made her pass out! She was at the end of the line and nobody realized it! Did we make it back to the room and see her out the window or realize it before we got back in? I can't remember...

Select Choir--I was an alto and Brooke was a soprano. However, after we were given our seating assignments, Brooke and I decided we needed to sit together. So we sat on the back row of her section. Apparently Mrs. Stahlman had forgotten where we were SUPPOSED to sit. We both sang high soprano from then on. It was NOT pretty!

Shannon put a tack on Brooke's chair as a joke. When Brooke came back to her seat, she was talking to me and put her knee on her chair. That tack sank all the way into her kneecap. It was pretty tramatic for all of us girls!

Back to the story...

The devilish trio was often tormenting us. Since we all sat at the back, they would say things that Mr. Calvert could not hear. I don't remember ever tattling on them but we were sassy enough to retaliate occasionally.

On this particular occasion, we were working with clay. (Mr. Calvert must've had a good understanding of Multiple Intelligences and Learning Styles even back then!) As the boys were tormenting us, I made a clay face. Then I said to them, "This is Jeff's face!" and I smashed it. They proceeded at this point to hurl obscenities our way. I remember our response to this clearly because I thought we were so clever. We said, "We have mouths, too. And Mr. Begley has ears!"

The next day I came to school and sat with my little group in the common's area waiting for the bell. But while I was waiting, I got called to the Principal's office. Apparently three young men from my class had went to visit him with some concerns. Mr. Begley asked me about making the clay face and smashing it. I, of course, started bawling and admitted to this heinous offense. Then he told me that they had indicated that I was making fun of his ears. What?! I tried to explain our clever response between my sobs but don't know that he ever understood what really happened.

As I left the office, Brooke walked in. The color drained from her as she looked at my tear-streaked face. She really thought she was in for it! When I got back to class, Mr. Calvert pulled me aside to see if I was okay. I was so embarrassed that I was crying so I wanted to justify my tears. My response was, "Casy hit me!" (Years later I told Casy about this little untruth. She was mortified!)

My second offense was on the bus in junior high. We were headed to a track meet or a field trip somewhere. Brooke and I were sitting together and this time we were being tormented by Brian and Lance.

I had made a trip to Bloodharts right before we left so I had one of their cute little sacks with Precious Moments characters on them. This particular sack had two sweet little girls hugging one another. We wrote Brian's name and drew an arrow pointing to one girl then wrote Lance's name with an arrow pointing to the other...then handed this back, seat by seat, until it reached them on the bus.

Brian went home that evening and gave it to his mother. The next morning she went to see Mr. Krueger with the little bag in hand. Brooke and I got 15 minutes of detention. We served it with pride.

Summers

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 29 May 2009 21:28:00 +0000

My summer started today at 1:00. It could not have been a more beautiful day, either.

I've always loved the summers. Growing up in Hugoton, my sisters and I walked, rode our bikes, and skateboarded all over town. There were a few summers, when Lisa was still little enough that she rode on the back of Mom's bike, that I remember taking family bicycle rides. Dad would head up the group while Mom brought up the rear. We had a specific path through town that we took. I loved those rides. Dad always started a game of tag with us older girls. It made Mom so nervous to watch us swerve at each other.

As I got a little older, I remember waiting patiently for 2 o'clock to roll around so I could go to the pool. We were there almost everyday all day. We had this pea green Ram Charger (we could remove the top) that was Mom's summer ride. It had a roll bar so it was also the sand dune cruizer. I'm not sure why my Dad and his friends thought it fun to see who could climb the steepest dune!

In junior high I got my learner's permit. I can very clearly remember that first summer of driving--Ranae and Tammie were in town and Footloose was the HOT soundtrack of the summer. Any time I hear one of those songs, I think of grinning at my cousins while getting used to being behind the wheel!

High school summers included babysittng the Crawford boys and swimming. Little Brett and I had lots of fun! Of course, going to the pool in high school had absolutely NOTHING to do with swimming. My best friend, Julie, also babysat. We always coordinated our schedules to do things together with the kids.

Summers in college were busy with classes. I was in a hurry to get out and get a job so I always enrolled full-time and worked. However, Heath and I found time to go to the Hays neighborhood pools quite often--followed by a Sonic drink or a TCBY yogurt. I also always took 2 weeks off to go home and see my folks and Lisa for a while.

After my first year of teaching, I remember the exhileration I felt when the realization hit me that I had 3 months with my son! Todd and I were married the previous March and right at the beginning of the summer we found out that we were going to have a baby. That was a special summer. A summer that was just focused on Heath (and our new puppy, Tandy). In Healy there was a small community pool that we paid to use. Plus we spent many evenings watching Heath pick dandelions in right field.

Summers in Tribune were very busy. The kids were growing and our family was growing. I actually managed the pool the year I was pregnant with the twins! Tana was 3 and could swim like a fish...a dark little blondie! We always had to take Barbie along with us to the pool. Later in Tribune, we bought a bigger house right across the street from the pool. It was heavenly! We had a big, beautiful and shady back yard where we spent most of our time. Summers in Tribune were filled with bike rides and long walks in the evenings.

At first the walks included a double-stroller, but as the years went on we watched our kids move to bikes with, and later without, training wheels. They love telling the story of Mom hitting a pothole and going over her handlebars before landing on the pavement with road rash from my toes to my forehead. They think it is so funny that I lost my little front granny basket during that fall! I proved my toughness by finishing that bike ride even though I was a bloody mess.

In Salina we live by a dike that has a walking trail on it. That 2-mile long trail see us come up and down almost every evening--usually with the little ones on their bikes. The second summer we were here, Heath and I wore ourselves out with daily workouts as he was getting ready to go into the Navy. Our pool adventures now typically involve a drive to a nearby town to play at an aquatic center.

I'm so excited for a new summer with my children and the warm sun. I look forward to the upcoming adventures we will take and the memories we will make.

Funny Things My Kids Say--Part 5

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 13 May 2009 12:38:00 +0000

One day this past week I had to leave the house early for a meeting. I'm very blessed to have my sister, Casy, living only about 2 blocks away and she agreed to help me out by getting my 10-year-old twins, Andy and Annie, to school for me.

After loading them in and buckling up, they headed down the road with "Ring of Fire" playing on her stereo. This recording artist helped make up the soundtrack of our childhood. If you've read my other posts, you know that there are several. She decided to quiz my children to see if I've been raising them properly to recognize his voice.

She turned up the song and asked, "Okay...do you know who this is?" Andy said, "I know this one!" Then he got a look of concentration on his face as he tried to think of the name. As they drove further, Casy asked again, "Who is it?" Andy answered again that he was sure he knew, he just needed a few minutes to think! Annie, on the other hand, sat quietly just listening to the music and contemplating the question. A little closer to school Casy offered, "I'll give you a hint. His initials are the same as Jesus." Andy was so frustrated that he couldn't think of the name!

As they pulled into the parking lot, Casy exclaimed, "It's Johnny Cash!" Andy replied, "Oh Yeah!" while Annie finally piped up with "What is Jesus last name?!"

Mostromisms Part II

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 00:21:00 +0000

Besides just having names for things, my family also has phrases that were commonly used. Heath posted one of these on his return home to San Diego after his recent visit. I'll start with that one.

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Home Again, Home Again Jiggity Jig: Any time we went somewhere, when we returned my parents would say this. I'm not sure if this was a Mostrom thing or something that came from my mother, a Phifer. Without even thinking about it, when we return home from a trip I say this to my own children. It actually comes from a little nursery rhyme that I never heard until I was grown.

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Skin the Rabbit: When we were very young and Mother would help us undress, she would have us raise our hands in the air. As she pulled our shirt or dress over our head, she would say, "Skin the Rabbit!" Again...I'm not sure if this originally came from my Mom or Dad. Of course, by the time I had my own children it had been many years since my Mother had helped me undress. But the words out of my mouth were always--Skin the Rabbit! One day the kids and I got to talking about this phrase and I realized just how GROSS this saying actually is... especially since I've witnessed a rabbit being skinned. It's not a pleasant sight!

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Do you realize that my fist is bigger than your whole face? My Dad used to hold up his fist near our face and say this when we were being belligerent as children and young ladies. Never do I remember my father raising a hand to any of us, so this was always said in jest. If we had really done something that called for correction, we all agree that Dad just had to give us "the look" that said he was disappointed. Then we crumbled...
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Pitiful: My Mother's favorite singer is definitely Elvis. All of us girls spent hours and hours listening to the King sing from the "Music Room" (that eventually became my bedroom). Whether Mom was cleaning house, exercising, or enjoying a visit from a friend, Elvis kept her company. Dad, of course, was a little jealous. Elvis was not called "The King" by my Dad, he was called, "Pitiful." For example, one might've heard my father say, "Do you want to listen to Pitiful?" or "Is your Mother listening to Pitiful again?"
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Gary and the Girls: We had a full size van that was used for family outings and vacations. Wow...we had lots of great times in that van. In fact, from the top of the World Trade Center in New York City we looked down at it and joked that it was probably getting broken into--then when we got down, it HAD been broken into! The leather tire cover was custom-made for my parents and read, "Gary and the Girls." I remember Dad complaining as we were driving down the road that young men would be straining to look in. It took us a while to realize that their idea of Gary and the Girls was not a father, mother, and young daughters!
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Boz: My Dad's friends have always referred to him as "Boz." My sisters and I have asked before where this nickname orginated and, of course, we've heard some pretty far-fetched stories from his friends and brothers. Maybe he's just had this nickname for so long that nobody even remembers anymore where it started. When we got older, we used to ask Dad why the van didn't say something like "Boz and the Babes!"
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Slop the Hogs: My parents often work together in the kitchen and they also did so when we were young. Usually when a meal was ready, my Dad would round us up for dinner by hollering, "It's time to slop the hogs!" or "Let's slop the hogs!" Again, this was something we heard so often we never even thought about it being so RUDE until we were older.
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Oh goodness...at some point I will need to work on some of our own Tylerisms. One just never knows what might come out of Todd's mouth!

Mostromisms

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 25 Apr 2009 17:00:00 +0000

It's funny how when you are growing up, there are things that your family does that you don't realize are unique to just your family. Here are some of them for the Mostroms.

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Silverbars: We had a swingset in the backyard that was homemade. Someone hand-welded thick pipe together and added the attachments for swings and even a glider. It was then painted silver. So, we called them the "silverbars". On the playground at school I wonder if my friends ever thought it strange that I would say, "Let's go play on the silverbars!" To me, it was another word for swingset. I spent hours on this thing growing up. In fact, there are lots of pictures of me as a little toe-headed toddler riding a swinging horse and grinning from ear to ear. They just don't make them like that anymore.

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Pig: I don't know how this got started, but the absolute filthiest thing that we could call each other growing up was "pig." Mom said later that since we thought it was a dirty word, in her book it was a dirty word. When we used it, she knew we were cussing each other, and we got in BIG trouble. Isn't it interesting how words can provoke such emotion?

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Gudgurl: This one started when I was very young, in fact, probably before I was even born while Mom was potty training Casy and Susan. When we would succeed in pooping in the toilet, Mom would exclaim, "Good girl!" or "That's a good girl!" We didn't realize that our mother was praising us for saving her from cleaning up a mess. Instead, we thought she was telling us the name of this nasty stuff--and that she was excited about it! For years I thought "gudgurl" was a nice name for poop. As in "I need to gudgurl." My mom thought it was cute, and that this sounded much better than the alternative.

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Bud Buddies: Dad and Mom always had lots of friends who were always lots of fun. One of these couples was Ron and Gloria White. Each couple had three daughters and soon each had a fourth. It was an interesting coincidence and one that led to lots of shared time together as families. Their girls (in order by age) are Barbara, Brenda, Kelly, and Kristi. Kelly and Casy were the same age and so were Kristi and Lisa. Brenda and Susan were pretty close in age and had similar personalities. When we met them, however, I was very young so I was always paired up with Barbara who probably had to keep an eye on me. The were our "Bud Buddies". I'm not sure where the term came from but it is what we always called each other. Ron's girls were still growing up when he died suddenly from a massive heart attack and Gloria never remarried after losing the love of her life.

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Gary's Polka: My Grandpa Mostrom (Grandpapa) played the accordian by ear. This is a complicated instrument with many strange keys and a very large, awkward size. Once he heard a song, he could play it. As a child I didn't realize what a unique and special gift this was. When he and Grandmama were young, they played dance after dance with her on the trapset. One of the songs they played was "Gary's Polka". Gary is my father and this song was written and played solely for him. To us, this was just another fun polka that my Grandparents would play. Although we have old recordings of them playing it, I often wish I could hear it live once more.

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Stirrin' Stick: Dad was a farmer. All of us spent time helping him with different tasks in the fields. One of the more time-consuming ones was "changing water". Before pivot irrigation, we would load aluminum pipe on a trailer and it would take three of us (a driver and two pipe-movers) to lay the pipe to water the fields. These pipes had gates on them that could be opened and closed as needed to sufficiently water each row. What a chore this was! Often the gates needed replacing, the pipes stubbornly wouldn't fit together easily, and little animals (from rabbits to snakes) would be inside. Once laid, the water was started and would make it's way from one end of the field to the other. Later, Dad would "check water" which meant that he drove along the other side and listed the rows that needed more water and the rows that were fully watered. We would then go back out with a "stirrin' stick" to close and open gates as needed.

Opening these little gates by hand would be silly. Besides the fact that they were often very tight and hard to move, you never knew what little critter may be down there! The tool that I most often used to complete this task was simply a golf putter. Dad had several thrown in the back of the pickup. But THE "stirrin' stick" was an old tractor tire iron--perfectly rounded to conform nicely to the shape of the pipe. This was a precious tool to my father. To this day it hangs in his shed, a reminder of all of the time he spent walking through his turnrows and tending his land.

The Wedding Reception

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 04:06:00 +0000

What a great weekend. It was amazing having my whole family—parents, sisters, brothers-in-law, nieces, nephews—in Salina to help us celebrate! Wow…it is so hard to get everyone together. Plus, it was Caitie’s prom so everyone got to see her all dolled up.

The whole Greenway clan was able to come with the exception of Jeffrey’s family. It certainly felt like a reunion! It meant so much to Heath to have all of us together to celebrate such an important event in his life.

My favorite moments…

*As Heath and Stefannie were enjoying the first dance of the evening (I Love the Way You Love Me by John Michael Montgomery), the little ones started circling them on the dance floor. I thought it was so sweet to see them looking up with big grins at the happy couple—and then they whipped out Silly String and blasted them! I didn’t even see it coming! They were covered with the stuff. Immediately afterwards, Stefannie yelled, “Gina, this had to be YOUR idea!” Well, it wasn’t. Stef soon made it a priority to solve this little mystery. All fingers eventually pointed Tiff and Seresa. I should’ve known! When Stef asked them, they simply said, “Welcome to the Scrue!”

*Brooke’s middle child is an amazing dancer! Hmmmm…must be from her dad’s side. ;)

*One of Heath’s best friends was diagnosed with cancer right after high school. He graduated one year before my son. I remember Heath making the trip to take him for treatments in Denver at least once during his senior year. We were so scared. Josh came from Nebraska to celebrate with Heath, bringing a sweet girlfriend. He looked GREAT! Several times during the evening, he danced with this old lady. Two and a half years have passed without cancer now. It’s been a rough road. It amazes me that he has traveled it with such strength and grace. With such a tender heart, it should be no surprise that he and Heath have a close bond.

*It’s 10:30 Sunday night and Stef’s best friend from Michigan, Candace, is still in bed! I asked them if they made sure she was breathing…lightweight.

*When the evening was winding down, Brooke rounded up her family, said her “goodbyes”, and headed for the door...and then Paradise by the Dashboard Light (Meatloaf) came on and THAT plan went out the window! She made a beeline for the dance floor! I thoroughly enjoyed singing and dancing with my old friend. It’s been too long. In that 5 minutes, the last 25 years disappeared. There we were…in her basement, strobe light flashing, and giggling like little girls. Priceless.

*Aubrey (my niece) caught the bouquet while Josh caught the garter.

*Keegan, another one of Heath’s high school friends, also made the trip. I hadn’t seen this young man since graduation. At some point late in the evening, Keegan just walked right up to me and handed me his keys as if to say, “Here they are, Mom. Get me home safely.” I laughed and pocketed them. Good choice.

*Lisa and Kris know EVERY WORD to Ice, Ice Baby! Hey….DORK!

*Chad is a pretty quiet guy. As the boys were growing up, we got to know this laid back, red-necked, big-hearted kid. In fact, when I took Heath to his first concert (Aerosmith!), Chad came with us. He was in rare form last night! I didn’t know Chad HAD those dance moves! I had the pleasure of dancing with him to several different songs. He would just find me every now and then and say, “Come on Little Momma Tyler!” We found this so funny because the boys used to call me “Big Momma Tyler” when they were in high school…but Chad knows that I’ve been working hard on my health and fitness. As we sat at the table today watching video from last night, we had to back up several times to repeatedly watch him doing the “worm”. His comment was, “Now that’s a big worm.” I think he was hurting today…

*Mike and Jess were our DJs. They were perfect! It was great to have our own music to dance to—everything from the Cha, Cha Slide to Jerry Lee Lewis to 80s hair bands to Jump Around! Very cool….thanks guys!

*My family is big on toasts. Any time we are all together celebrating an occasion, we toast the event as well as the participants. Heath and Stefannie made the first toasts last night, expressing appreciation for the event and his family. I was up next. Of course, I love my new daughter-in-law very much. It was my pleasure to publicly welcome her to our family and remind her that this family (the entire Mostrom clan) is a great one. Next, Todd took the microphone. All of you that know my husband also know that he is a private and quiet person (in mixed company). He had been thinking about his toast all day and knew exactly what he wanted to say. He said, “When you get married you need to have the role model of a great marriage to guide you.” And then his emotions took over. It was very moving to watch him continue, voice cracking, with something like “I knew that we had that in Gina’s parents. So, Heath and Stef, learn from Grandpa and Grandma Mostrom. You’ve got some great role models in them.” He told me that there was more that he had wanted to say, but the words just left him in that moment. Those are the BEST toasts, though…right from the heart.

*I’m pretty sure that a spot of grass in our yard will struggle to survive thanks to Heath’s college buddy, Ben.

*Early in the evening when we were trying to get the dance going, I asked Mike to play Home Sweet Home (Motley Crue) so I could dance with Heath. This is my very favorite song and one that I know Heath also really likes. After all, Todd and I also took him to see the Crue when he was 17—the age I was when I saw them for the first time. During this dance, Heath confessed that he had played this song multiple times the week before in anticipation of coming “Home”. It was very sweet when Todd pulled Stef out on the floor to join us for this dance.

*Man, I wish Tom had been here. Hmmm…I think this friend of Heath was the one who started the whole “Momma Tyler” thing. He, however, is in the Coast Guard and was unable to get away. Come see us when you’re in Kansas, Tommy Boy.

*When Heath and Stef cut their cake, they gently started reaching toward each other to share a bite. Then Stef made a sudden move and before we knew it they both had cake up their noses! The pictures of this are hysterical! Picture 1—smiling lovingly at each other, cake almost to the other’s lips. Picture 2—eyes closed, cake shoved blindly, and grimacing. Oh goodness. They both had to go the bathroom and clean up and blow the cake out their noses before they could continue with their shared drink of champagne. Todd kidded them with, “Most couples don’t need to take an intermission!”

*Although we had planned to have the kids watching movies in the other room, they preferred to dance along with us. Mom said today, “I don’t think anyone there had any more fun than Emma!” I think she’s right. Kris and Lisa have their hands full with that 4-year-old firecracker.

*Todd’s smoked pork (42 pounds of it!) was delicious. I am so lucky to be married to a man that loves to cook…and is so good at it. Emeril…eat your heart out!

We ended the evening by making sure that everyone made it safely to their destination. Most of the 20-somethings crashed at our house. Having Heath and his friends hanging out in our house certainly brought about some feelings of déjà vu. As they slowly got around and left today, I was struck by their expressions of thanks and promises to stay in touch with us. These kids that were like part of our family have now grown into wonderful young adults. With Heath being so far away, I’m sure they were conscious of the fact that it may be a long time before they will get to see him again.

Memorable evening...special friends...great family.

The Loss of a Mother

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 18:24:00 +0000

Mac called this morning. His mom, Jan, lost her battle with cancer during the night.

Nothing can prepare you for this. It doesn’t matter how old you are. As I think about my best friends, I realize that many of them have already had to face the pain of losing their mothers. I just can’t handle the thought of it.

Susan and I shared a room when we were very young. I remember one night, lying in our twin beds, we got to talking about “what if” dad and mom were to die. As that conversation evolved, it led us to the realization that one day our dad and mom WOULD die. Our little minds just could not bear it. The tears started flowing and as this reality continued to sink in, we became hysterical. I can vividly recall running into the kitchen (where my parents were probably enjoying those few precious quiet moments when the kids are all tucked in) wailing. It took our parents quite a bit to get us calmed down, reassured, and tucked back into bed. But sleep didn’t come easy that night. My mom still remembers that night, also.

Billy was one of my very best friends when I was young. In fact, back then (probably even before school-age) he told his father that he was going to marry Gina Mostrom. We spent hours playing with Terry and Jimmy in our neighborhood. Losing his mother, Sharon, to cancer was so tragic...especially since I really didn't understand what was going on at the time. I just remember watching my friend (along with his older sisters and father) struggle with a broken heart. I'm sure that througout the years he, Marcy, and Kathy have yearned for just one more hug and kiss from their mother.

Not too many years later, a good girlfriend of mine lost her mother, Becky, to breast cancer. As we grew up, I often thought that it was unfair that Brooke had to face life without the guidance and support of her mother. As the oldest of three, Brooke had some big shoes to fill...and she did so with grace and style. Her trust and faith in God was so inspiring to me. She still inspires me. Her mother would be so proud of her accomplishments...and her beautiful girls.

Although I didn’t get to know Tiffany until high school, she had lost her mother at a very tough time in ANY girl’s life—junior high. I had not been there to go through that pain with her, but I could still feel that pain even as she grew into an amazing woman. When five crazy college women decided to take a Spring Break excursion to Vegas, it was in her mom’s old car. She still had it. We made some great memories in it. Maybe she was with us.

My younger sister Lisa married Matt just prior to being discharged from the U.S. Navy. She fell in love with his whole family in Wisconsin, including his mother. Pat was definitely a second mother to Lisa. This spunky little lady always had a smile on her face and a great story to tell. She lived--really lived--right up to the point when breast cancer stole her away, breaking many hearts in the process.

My very best friend was able to care for and comfort her mother, Shirley, through a sad battle with Raynaud’s Disease. It was torturous…for both of them. I was able to visit them in the hospital not long before her mom's death and was horrified at the cruelness of this affliction. Julie was so brave for her mother. She told me much later that the hug I gave her at her mother’s funeral was the only time she ever remembers me hugging her. Since I consider myself a “hugger”, this completely surprised me. I guess sometimes we feel so close to those that we love that we don’t feel the need to physically express our love. That is one mistake that I no longer make.

I met Jan on the same day I met Jeff (Mac) and Todd. After all, we picked the boys up at their homes in Satanta in Tiff’s Trans Am that day. She was a teacher and I always enjoyed my visits with this bright and vibrant woman. When both she and Larry retired, they were able to do some traveling together before and after her battle with breast cancer. Man, we thought she had it beat…until just this past fall. At a KSU football game Larry and Jeff told us that some tests had come back that indicated that the cancer had returned—though it was now in her bones. How quickly these last precious months flew by.

I know that statistically men die younger. In my personal experience, however, this has not been the case. Too many mothers of those that I love have left before we were ready. But I suppose one is never ready to lose his or her mother.

Go give your mom a hug today or at least give her a call. Keep her in your daily prayers. And be grateful for the time you have with her…it is never enough.

They Say We All Have a Twin Out There

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 02:51:00 +0000

Teaching high school for many years gave me several interesting experiences. When I was teaching high school in Tribune, one day some of the ornery boys in my class were snickering and whispering and looking at me curiously. Where in the world did this come from? I thought that I must've just been the butt of a dirty joke or something. I didn't know. Anyway, I continued to notice it with other boys in the hall. Something was definitely up.

Right before lunch, I had one of these boys in a class and I asked him to stay for a second. With everyone out of the room, I asked him what was going on. Looking quite uncomfortable, he told me that while a group of boys were messing around together over the weekend, a bunch of them were surfing some inappropriate websites on the computer and came upon my picture. I assured him that the picture could not be me. But, he insisted…and told me that I might want to take a look. (At this point, I am thinking this is funny! These boys must have vivid imaginations.) So, I asked him for the website. Of all things, it was www.teenplaythings.com! (This was even funnier to me since I was teaching teens!)

So, I sent him off to lunch and I looked it up--in the name of research. There I was, on my knees, elbows on the floor, derriere in the air, grinning at the camera, without a stitch of clothes on! On the home page of this porn site!

Now...let me back up for a second. Of course, it was NOT me. But she looked so much like me that it was scary. At the time, my hair was long and highlighted and even this looked identical in the picture. I saved the image on a disk then went down to talk to the principal. Thinking it would be best to head-off any future accusations, I told him about my morning and he about fell over when I showed him the picture and told him that it was NOT me. Thank goodness that the model was posed such that the important parts were not visible. He was a good sport and chuckled. The picture made the rounds to the other teachers and we all had a good laugh.

The next day, I copied and pasted the image on a computer-generated Valentine's Day card for Todd. When he opened it up, he exclaimed, "When did you get this picture taken?!?!" I said, "That's not even me!" He studied it pretty closely. Thinking it would be funny, I even showed it to my parents. My mother said, "Gina Michelle!!" Oh my...you know you’re in trouble when mom uses your middle name!

I still have that image saved in my old files. After writing this story I had to pull it up and take a look, thinking it surely didn’t look that much like me. Oh but it does. Who knew I could've had a career in modeling?

By the way, shame on you if you clicked the link to that site! I, however, had to see if it was still in existence. It is. However, my lookalike no longer graces its cover.

Fifteen Years and Counting

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 03:55:00 +0000

I met his friends before I met him. Tiffany invited me and my 3-year-old son over for a BBQ with the gang. She knew I didn't get out much and she wanted me to meet some new people. Jeff (The Macster) was grilling the food and was trying to get a count of people to purchase the steaks. Tiffany told him, "Gina will have a steak but Heath will probably just want a hotdog." Jeff was assuming that "Heath" was my boyfriend and was thinking that this guy must be a weirdo! I think he was pretty surprised when I showed up with my little man.

That same summer, Tiff talked me into going out with the girls one evening. While waiting for her to get around, I browsed through her boyfriend's yearbooks. Nonchalantly, I pointed to a guy in one of the pictures and said, "He's cute." I could just see the wheels in her mind start turning, "Oh my God! He's coming to school here this year! You've got to meet him! Oh my God! You'll love each other!" Whooaaaa! Slow it down... The idea of a blind date was pretty scary to this single mom.

But, a blind date is exactly what Tiff and Macster arranged. My first date with Todd (the tall, dark, and handsome guy from the yearbook) was dinner at the bar in Moscow, a shed party with the locals, and hot-tubbing at my parents home. The next day Mac took us up in his plane for a private tour of Southwestern Kansas.

When school started back up a couple of weeks later, Todd was quick to call and set up another date. With our common friends and instant compatibility, everyone knew that we were a good match. Even Heath seemed to fit very easily into the gang (otherwise known as the Scrue). He became known as "The Boy", a nickname that Todd still uses for him today.

One day in the Spring of 1993, Todd got a pen and piece of paper to write out a contract. I didn't know what he was up to and he wouldn't let me read it until he was finished. It turned out to be a signed statement that I, Gina, would not tell anyone that we were going ring shopping that day! That Fourth of July weekend when we were visiting Hugoton he asked my father if he could marry me. Then he officially asked me at my parent's home.

The night before our wedding, the boys went to Liberal for a Bachelor Party. Todd was staying at Jeremy's (his best man) home. Jer had a big beautiful German Shepard named Shadow that we all loved. Macster and Jack got themselves in a little trouble that night with Liberal's Finest when they "considered" relieving themselves in the public fountain on Main Street. Thank goodness the judge believed the "considered" part! (I'll never forget that they came home from college to fight the charge and, when they won, celebrated with ice cream from the DQ!) The boys had a great time and a late night. When they got back to Jer's house, though, my wedding ring was missing! Immediately an extensive search took place resulting in the discovery of a chewed up ring case. Shadow had apparently mistaken it for a new chew toy. I can just picture the boys crowded around as Todd opened it up to find that my ring was somehow still inside and in perfect condition. That ring box is in my top drawer to this day. The next afternoon Todd married a couple of people...both me and Heath.

Taking on a child was a huge responsibility and I'm sure it was very scary. I remember watching "Tool Time" one evening and Al was babysitting the Taylor children. The next day he told Tim that it was challenging because he hadn't experienced the bonding that took place in those first few months and years of life. Todd just blurted out something like, "That's it! I missed that part! I feel just like Al!" I know it wasn't always easy. By June we were expecting our first baby together.

Tana was three when we found that we were going to become parents once more. The sonogram was scheduled but Todd was going to have to miss it because he needed to get to Satanta for Macster's Bachelor Party! I told him to go ahead. In those early sonograms you can't see much anyway. But we were surprised when Baby A and Baby B both had their first pictures taken. There was NO WAY I was telling Todd this over the phone! That afternoon I drove down to Satanta, sat my husband down at Mac's folks' house, and gave him the news. He was ecstatic! Everyone was.

With the twins came a very, very busy schedule. Actually, just the fact that we had four children kept us busy. The next several years were filled with kids' activities, the monotany of daily routines, and a constant quest for more sleep. But Todd was always up for this challenge, working hard all day and coming home to help me in the evenings.

In the last few years, Heath has left for college and then the Navy. Tana has turned into a young lady. Andy and Annie have hit "double digits." (This quote from Annie on their last birthday, "Now we're all in double digits, Mom!") The schedule is still busy but the kids' needs are no longer as demanding. I notice Todd enjoying teaching his kids to cook, taking Tana to learn to drive, and showing our children in general how a good father raises his kids.

This month, on March 12, we celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary. Heath called the other day and Todd came in with the phone saying, "It's the Boy!" He's enjoying so much seeing the man that Heath has become, the man that he helped raise.

Thanks Tiff. Thanks Mac. Your little blind date gave me a beautiful family...a beautiful life. I'll always be grateful for this man...my husband...my Todd.

A Day of Terror

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 00:01:00 +0000

It was summer. I've always enjoyed my summers with the kids so much. This summer had been particularly fun because Tana was getting ready to start Kindergarten, could ride her own bike (with training wheels), and was a heck of a swimmer. The twins were at an adorable age--18 months. The Greeley County Swimming Pool had a zero-entry smaller pool for little ones. We had a double stroller that I was trying to wear out with long walks every single evening. Our little summer routine was perfect.

Tana was usually the first one up after Dad went to work. She was never very demanding--usually just content to turn on some cartoons until mom got up. With the twins still in cribs, mom usually had to get up fairly early. Thank goodness for long summer afternoon naps!

Heath was not home on this day. In July, starting when Heath was fairly young, he would go out to Hugoton to "help" Grandpa with wheat harvest. I know that Heath cherishes these memories of farming with Grandpa. This tradition continued throughout Heath's high school years.

With the baby monitor next to my bed, I slept pretty light and woke either because Tana came to tell me "good morning" or one of the twins had made some noise indicating they were awake. I came upstairs and peeked in on the twins. Sure enough, Annie was standing there holding on to the side of her crib, ready to be swooped up and loved. She was so sweet with curly brown hair and that dimple. I took her to the changing table and, while I was changing her into a fresh diaper, I glanced at Andy. Apparently he had just woke because he was still lying down but his eyes were open.

I picked up Andy and took him over to the table. Now I was juggling them both. When I finished changing him, I had one snuggled into each arm and walked into the family room. Tana starting asking me something, I was trying to round stuff up for breakfast, Annie was holding on, and I realized that Andy was slipping out of my arm. Silly boy, he was old enough to hold himself up while I multi-tasked! As I adjusted to get him in a more comfortable position, I really looked at him. The morning had been so busy that I had been distracted and never really gave Andy a good look. His eyes were glazed over, he was NOT holding on to me, and he was drooling.

I felt like I had been punched in the gut. After running back into the living room, I sat both him and Annie down. Andy fell over. Tana has always been very attentive and knew right away that something was going on. I don't know what words were coming out of my mouth. I'm sure I was trying to will Andy to snap out of it.

Immediately I ran to the phone and dialed 911. Then hung up. This was not happening. Nothing was wrong. I was over-reacting. With the phone in my hand and Tana watching, I sat Andy up again and begged him to be okay. I will never forget Tana saying, "He's okay, mommy. Nothing's wrong. He's okay." She was willing it to be true also. I called 911.

When the dispatcher answered, I told her that Andy was unresponsive. That's all I remember saying. It is a small town and everyone knows everyone. At that time we lived 2 blocks from the hospital and about 4 blocks from the courthouse. The Sheriff was at our home within seconds.

With all of us still in our pajamas, I had made it out to the garage. I was asking myself, "Why didn't you just drive him to the hospital?" The Sheriff took Andy from my arms and asked me if he was still breathing. Still breathing?! Well, of course he was still breathing! Honestly I'd never thought about him NOT breathing. My brain was not functioning properly. Andy's lips were turning blue. I'll bet a minute had not gone by when the ambulance got to the house. Immediately they took my son and sped to the hospital. I ran in the house, pulled on sweats, slipped on some flip flops, grabbed the girls, and sped after them.

Things are a little fuzzy from here on out. If you've ever been through anything this frightening, you probably know that time no longer holds any significance. It just does not move at normal speed. Your brain must pick and choose what it will process because the bulk of it is in a panic. I know that every wonderful doctor in our attached clinic was there, though. I remember seeing someone give Andy shots and he didn't even flinch. His little body just laid there on that hospital gurney. His oxygen level was down in the 70s.

I told someone that I needed to call Todd. We didn't have cell phones back then. It's amazing how quickly the area filled with concerned people. News travels so fast in a small town. I called Todd at work and one of his employees got him. When he picked up I said, "Something is wrong with Andy. We're at the hospital." He never answered me. He was gone. Later when we talked about it, he said he knew from my voice that something terrible had happened. He had just ran out to his pickup and sped into town as fast as he could drive. It was only 12 miles. He was probably there with 7 or 8 minutes...but during that few minutes I understand that I asked people around me, "Where is Todd? Why isn't he here yet"" several times. I remember someone saying, "Gina, you just called him." I couldn't believe that. Time was so messed up.

A mother of two of my students was there. She worked at the courthouse and had immediately come over when she heard something was wrong. Her daughter, Crystal, had just babysat the kids the day before. She hugged me and said, "It's going to be okay." I lost it. I remember yelling at her, "NO! It's NOT okay! Did you see him? He's NOT okay!" I've often reflected on that and realize that it was finally at this point that I let myself accept that this was really happening...that something was terribly wrong with my Andy.

Crystal also got there quickly and I remember quizzing her about anything the kids might've gotten into the day before. We just had no idea what was happening--or why. Had he gotten into something poisonous? Andy was always putting things in his mouth. Had he had a seizure? What was going on? How were we supposed to counteract it if we didn't know what it was? I know that she was also terrified.

God had us in Tribune for a reason. I firmly believe that Andy was in the best possible hands on this day with Dr. Bob Moser, Dr. Wendel Ellis, and Kathy Bangerter. Truly, they saved my son's life. Not just these doctors, but the quick response of the Sheriff Steve Schmidt, the EMTs, and the hospital staff. God had sent angels to watch over my child.

Reinforcements from Garden City were called. When the doctors felt Andy was stable enough, I rode in the ambulance with him for the 90 miles to this larger town. By the time we got there, Andy was more responsive and his oxygen level was back up to a safe level. I don't think the doctors there ever believed what we had been through. They could find no evidence that anything was wrong with Andy.

With so many unanswered questions, believe me when I say that I didn't sleep soundly. Within weeks, we took Andy to a Neurologist in Denver. It was decided that he must've had a seizure. However, the tests indicated that Andy had never had a seizure. Still we had no answers.

It took months and months for us to sleep soundly again. Often in the middle of night, I would enter the twins room and feel there little heartbeats and warm breath on my fingers. If they were ever too still, I would wake them.

To this day, we don't know what happened to Andy that morning. What we have been told is that if I had slept a little longer that morning, Andy would've been a SIDS baby. His body was just, for some unknown reason, shutting down. God had other plans.

Today Andy is 10. He's the smartest ten-year-old I've ever met, actually. He has this incredible understanding of things and a hilariously witty sense of humor. I can't imagine life without him.

Visiting the Arch

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 04:44:00 +0000

When Heath joined the Navy we were able to take the whole family to St. Louis to witness the "swearing in" ceremony at a St. Louis Cardinals game since Heath was part of the "Cardinal Company." We knew that this experience would be something that his little brother and sisters would never forget. Watching the respect that was shown to these boys and their families was pretty moving.

Since we were making this long drive, we decided to make a mini-vacation out of it. While in St. Louis we took the kids to Union Station, the Arch, and yes, the Budweiser Brewery--we had to take Annie to see those Clydesdales.

The Arch is a beautiful and interesting monument. A museum at the base has extensive information on Lewis and Clark. But like most visitors, we were most excited about riding to the top. We purchased our tickets and got in line.

There are 4 or 5 little cars that are hooked together so that they all can be pulled up to the top. These cars are extremely tiny. In fact, people with claustrophobia are warned prior to entering. The cars will hold up to five and there were five of us--Todd, Tana, Andy, Annie, and me. So, we piled into our little car where we here knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder, and hunched over to keep our heads from hitting the rounded ceiling. After our door was shut, I told the kids that nobody better fart. Then I jokingly told them that if someone did, when we got out we should all place the blame on Dad with our disapproving looks. We shared a good laugh...and then started up.

Once we got to the top and climbed out, we all enjoyed the view of St. Louis. It really is an amazing view. The room up there is fairly small--long and narrow. There are rows of windows along both sides with a short carpeted wall that slants outward. This allows you to lean forward and look out the windows, giving you a strange airborne sensation. The kids looked out every which way and we pointed out different landmarks to them.

After a while, I decided to go ask the attendant on the departing side of this small room when the next "train" would be going down. As I walked between and among the 15 to 20 other people milling around up there to get to the attendant, I found myself engulfed in a horrible stench. Someone in that small, poorly-vented space had passed gas.

Being a proper lady, I pretended not to notice and proceeded to ask my question. The attendant let me know that it would be just a few minutes. As I turned around, there was Annie. Annie was 8 at the time and, apparently, not as concerned about being a proper young lady. I'm sure she also had the little joke I'd made on the way up at the forefront of her mind as the the smell hit her and I was directly in front of her. So she loudly convicted me, asking "Mom! Why did you fart?!" I didn't let myself look around as that would imply guilt. Instead I smiled and very calmy said in a patronizing voice, "Annie, I didn't." However, she immediately, and loudly, replied, "Yes you did!"

Okay...now I looked around. I wasn't going to argue with Annie over this topic and needed to see what the damage was. The first person I looked at was the attendant, a young man. He was looking right at me and dryly said, "That's quite pungent." I can't even imagine what look I had on my face at this point.

I grabbed Annie and we went to the rest of our family. As we got in place to get in our little car to go back down, I relayed the story through my laughter. On the way down, we were in hysterics. Between the laughs and the tears, Annie did receive a scolding for saying such a thing in public. I'm sure it was hard to take me seriously, though. We all decided that the smart-mouthed attendant was probably the actual culprit!

About a year after this event, however, Tana admitted to the crime. Little stinker!