Saturday, 31 July 2010 -- Day 223 (236)

My body may be in the States, but my brain is somewhere over the Atlantic. This morning I drove to Casey's to get some milk for breakfast. On the way I passed a cement block house that I've passed dozens of times before. Passing it today, however, reminded me of all the stucco houses in Europe. Before I knew it I was at Casey's w/o having stopped at the intersection of a U.S. Highway 4. It's a miracle I didn't cause an accident. Yesterday the girls kept saying that I wasn't focused on my driving by almost missing turns and forgetting where we were going. I didn't think I was suffering jet lag, but obviously it has hit me, but I'm just too stubborn to acknowledge it. About 3:00 this afternoon, I was so tired I had to take a nap, something I rarely do. I wondered why I was so tired when it dawned on me that I'm still on European time. Right now it's almost 5:30 Sunday morning in France. I think I'll crash on the couch while I wait for Maddy to get home from babysitting. Either that or make breakfast.........I'm so confused.

Friday, 30 July 2010 -- Day 222 (235)

Today was a wonderful and beautiful day spent entirely w/ my daughters. I only remember one time that Mom went away w/o any of us along. She worked for a clothing store and went on a buying trip to Minneapolis. She was only gone for a couple of days, but she talked about that trip for years and years afterward. I was in high school at the time, probably around the age of Kenzie and Maddy, and I had to do some of the household chores just like my girls had to do while I was away. I know they were happy I was back b/c they kept hugging me. I'm just not sure if they were elated at my return to domesticity or b/c they really missed me!!! Doug said today that he appreciated all I do in making appointments and keeping everything and everyone in order. Wish I could tell Mom how much I appreciated all she did for us. I did at the end, but it would've meant more to do it as it was happening. People tell me she knew, but it's still nice to hear it from the people you love.

I appreciated this day w/ my girls, and I know they did too. Kenzie pointed out that in two years after she's done at our community college here, she'll be out of the house and will never live permanently under our roof again. I need to really appreciate these next two years w/ her and the next five w/ Maddy.

Thursday, 29 July 2010 -- Day 221 (234)

The closer I got to home, the longer it seemed to take. The nine-hour trans-Atlantic flight only took two w/ the time difference. I had to keep reminding my body of this. The transfer in Chicago went smoothly. I wish Ron didn't have to deal w/ the pain of Fibromyalgia, and I wish he didn't have to have a wheelchair and trolleys to transport him through airports, but it certainly allows us to bypass all the lines, queues as the Brits call them, and waiting. I have, however, throughout this trip felt twinges of guilt when we simply walk past all the people waiting in those long lines and move right to the front. I usually look away from them b/c I can't bear to meet their judgmental gaze.

Once Phil picked us up in Cedar Rapids, the speed of travel seemed to come to a grinding halt. I still had two more stops and 200 miles to travel to see my husband and children. I spent a couple of hours at Dad's to talk about our trip, share some of the videos I'd taken, balance his checkbook, write out some check, and pull some weeds. I know he missed us a lot as tears came to his eyes when he saw us in the flesh. I think in a way he felt he'd never see us again. It was nice to hear him say that he was glad we were back. He didn't say things like that as much when Mom was alive.

On my way out of town, I had one last stop to make. I had to tell Mom I made it back. She was always interested in my travels for vacations and conferences. She loved traveling and would've liked to do more so my adventures were ways for her to travel vicariously. For two weeks I've had what seemed like fleeting thoughts of Mom, but today, upon returning, I desperately missed telling her about my adventures. Unfortunately there's some truth to the saying, "Our of sight, out of mind." I think my rush of tears came from guilt in not thinking about Mom as much; from fatigue of travel; and from delight in being amongst familiar surroundings. As I cleared away some overgrowth at the base of the stone and swept away all the dead grass, I felt her say, "Stop all the fuss and be on your way."

On the plane from London earlier today thinking about the time in my journey when I would be driving my car, I had difficulty remembering which side of the car the steering wheel is on. Finally, now behind the wheel on the last stage of my journey home, it came back to me. During the last two weeks, I've missed the joy of the open road. I'm tired of crowds and significantly less personal space. I realized that this was the first time in two weeks that I've been by myself for any significant amount of time. I loved every minute of my European vacation, and I am forever grateful to Ron for giving me this gift of travel.

Opening my front door, I saw my family gathered together under a "Welcome Home" sign. I thought for sure I'd cry at this reunion, but I think I spent all those at Mom's grave. After hugs and kisses came all the items that I'd bought for them, and I knew the $50 I had to pay for an additional suitcase was well worth it. I knew the excitement of getting home would help keep me awake, but I've been up for over 24 hours w/ only a 30-minute nap on the trans-Atlantic flight. Once again, I'm exhausted but am delighted to crash in my own bed.

Wednesday, 28 July 2010 -- Day 220 (233)

We had a leisurely morning packing and watching the kids while Cory went to work and Anna did some shopping w/o the challenges of three children. Spending time w/ them, reading to them, being a marching band, playing w/ balloons all remind me of when my girls were little. The simplest of pleasures can come from blowing up a balloon then relasing it to let it sputter all about the room. Nothing brings an easier smile to my face than the joyful squeals of children.

Anna and the three kids are coming to America next week, and she was planning to pack a loaded suitcase inside a larger empty one in order to have more luggage when they return to France w/ Cory at the end of August. She suggested that we could take what was going to be empty luggage and fill it w/ all the extra stuff we've managed to accumulate in two weeks.

Our flight from Toulouse to Paris was uneventful. We only had to contend w/ a gate change, which I did understand when she first said it in French before restating it in English. I understand now why learning a language by immersion is much more effective than learning it in a classroom. It's sink or swim! It's funny how a gate change is considered just a minor inconvenience compare to what we've been through. I've found that I can read and hear French well enough to surmise the main points, and I can handle small phrases, but I was really happy to be on the flight from Paris to London to hold a conversation in English, even if it was the Queen's English. He was a very jolly chap who talked about this business dinner he was at in Paris where everyone around him was snoggin'.....you have to say this was a Cockney animated accent to make it truly funny. He just kept going on and on about snoggin'. I think he missed his wife, or he just liked saying the word.

I know we're back in England b/c the flood is bland. We at at the Windsor Castle Restaurant back in Heathrow. I ordered a chicken sandwich that was drier than a fart and a water w/ a leaky bottle. You have to specifically request ice unless you like your water room temperature....I don't. As we were sitting there, sipping our waters, I noticed that a puddle had formed under my bottle of water. I took it up to the counter to request a new bottle, and the girl said, "Well, it's not our fault. We can't give you a free water." I told her it wasn't my fault either; I didn't put the hole in the bottle. I stomped back to the table and said to Ron, "She must be French. She doesn't care about customer service." Shortly after, a young, tall boy came out and graciously brought me another bottle of water. A bottle of water............really............such a fuss? The Brits have interesting expressions for instructing people. They say, "Mind your step," and "Mind your children." This waitress needed to "mind her manners."

We're back in the Yotel tonight, but I'm not going to post this since I have more than a week's worth of entries that need to be posted first, and I want them to appear in order. Ron and I are quite slap happy, laughing at the silliest things.....reminds me of the times that Mom and I would get to laughing at something silly one of us said and then laughing until we couldn't breathe. We need to be up at 4:00 in the morning to get to another terminal to catch our flight to Chicago; I'd better get some sleep since I already have big enough bags under my eyes that the airline will probably charge me extra. I'm happy to be this much closer to home......only four more take-off's and landing's. I can't believe that my next entry will be written back in the U.S.

Tuesday, 27 July 2010 -- Day 219 (232)

Ron and I decided after out long weekend, it would be best if the kids had a break from our sightseeing so Anna brought just Ron and me to the center of Toulouse and dropped us off to wander around at our leisure. We've become quite adept at going w/ the flow, finding our way around, and enjoying whatever we encounter. We joked that if Dad had been in some of our precarious predicaments during the last two weeks that he just would've said, "That's it. We're going home," and then driven all night to get there. (It was only six days ago that I was ready to say about the same thing.) This wouldn't work now, which is why he'll never leave the U.S. again. Being in France, England, and the Philippines during WW II, he's done all the world travelling he cares to do.

We found the Capitol Square of Toulouse where an outside market was coming to a close, but we managed to make some quick purchases. We then found our way to the Basilica St. Sernin. I lit another candle. This time it was to offer a prayer to St. Jude to heal Mackenzie's Crohn's. No, I'm not converting to Catholicism, but I do believe in covering all my bases, and by this you can read religions.

We did find a couple of other smaller churches, but I have to say that by this time in our travels, I've seen enough cathedrals and chateaus to last quite awhile. I long for the churches and houses back home that actually get used.

We did some shopping to which my daughters should be pleased. We noted once again that service is friendly when stores are open, but when they decide to close, it doesn't matter what the customer wants or needs. I also realized that just b/c I can read the name and type of boutique we're about to enter doesn't mean I'm equipped at communicating in French what I'm looking for. We had been looking for an interesting trivet that Cory and Anna have and found a kitchen gadget shop. I don't know how to say trivet in French so I pantomimed this by taking a pan and placing it on my hand. After a couple of attempts by the clerk to interpret my charade, we came to the conclusion that they didn't carry what we were looking for.

Cory picked us up.........thank God for Alice since we weren't at the pre-arranged meeting spot and weren't quite sure how to get back there. Maps are great, but reading one w/ French rues and boulevards isn't quite as helpful. We were able to tell him that we were standing outside Saint Georges' Mall, and 25 minutes later he was there to pick us up.

We opted for Thai food tonight so I went w/ Cory to their favorite Thai restaurant near where they used to live three years ago when they lived in France the first time. I noticed that some of the fields of sunflowers looked very sad tonight. They must know we're leaving France tomorrow, but I know of family members back home who will be very happy when I get back. I'm so glad I've been able to talk w/ them through Skype video calls and phone calls. This allowed me to see Maddy as soon as she came back from the dentist w/o her braces for the first time.

Monday, 26 July 2010 -- Day 218 (231)

I never knew sleeping in a hotel bed could feel so wonderful. We had a typical French breakfast of cheese, fruit, croissants, yogurt, juice, and coffee before heading into Cheverny to see the chateau there. This is the most elaborately decorated caste in all of the Loire Valley. It also contained an Orangery in the back that was used to put the orange trees into during the winter months. This was also used during WW II to hide some of France's treasures, including the Mona Lisa.

This castle had hounds that are used regularly for the hunt. Like Chambord, this was primarily a hunting lodge originally. The other unique feature of this castle is that the Hurault family that has owned it for the last 600 years still owns it w/ the current descendant and his family still residing in part of the castle. I discovered an interesting fact during the tour of this chateau: the reason the beds are so short is that they always slept in an upright position, propped up w/ pillows b/c only the dead lie down on their backs. I just always thought the people back then were really, really short.

After Cheverny, we stopped in the next village to have lunch and ended up next to the Chateau de Fourgeres-Sur-Bievre, but, if my French translation was correct, it was only open by reservation. While waiting for lunch, I went inside the church next to the restaurant and chateau. This church was very simple, but it looks like it actually gets used. Anna had mentioned that many of the French don't go to church. How sad to have such beautiful, historic buildings and never utilize them. Another observation we've made about the French culture is that their focus in on their employee's well-being and comfort rather than customer satisfaction. Today at the restaurant we tried to order pinini's but were told the chef who makes them was gone so we could only order salads, sandwiches, or pizza. Yesterday when we tried to order pizza we were told that it was too late to order pizza even though we saw someone at the next table eating one. Maybe they just like to tease Americans. Cory has told us that the French only work a 35-hour work week, and everyone gets a six-week holiday (vacation) no matter how long they've worked for the business.

It's been so amazing to spend this time w/ my nephew and his family. Today in the car I asked him if he remembered certain things about Grandma Miller (Mom). He chuckled as he recalled our walks along the railroad tracks in the summers. Mom always told him that if he picked up any railroad spikes he'd have to carry them home. This lasted for awhile until his pants' pockets were dragging down to his calves and she caved in and carried them. He always knew she would.

The remaining chateaus that we saw were from the car as we wound our way back to Toulouse, but we did stop in Montrichard where mushrooms are grown in underground caves. Cory, Anna, and the kids took the tour; Ron took a nap; and I took a walk. This, like most French towns b/w 2:00 and 5:00 was mostly asleep. I did stumble upon a man and his son putting in a new door, but it didn't have any hinges so I'm not sure how they were going to make that work. I also came upon a cemetery. I was curious as to how the French bury their dead, and how they remember them. All graves were above ground in what looked like the vault that we bury in the ground. Some of these vaults were decorate w/ many different flowers and plants as well as plaques and statues. Sometimes I had to search around all this to find the names of the deceased. Entire families are buried in these crypts and some families have small mausoleums. I found one grave where the plants were dying, and probably already dead. When I looked at the grave, I noticed that it held a mother, father, and daughter. Either no one is left to tend to them, or the remaining loved ones are too far away or too careless. I found a jug and a water spigot and watered the plants. It probably won't matter, but it made me feel better. Then as I left the cemetery, there on the ground I found a pretty, purple, mum-like flower that appeared to have been recently dropped from another arrangement. I should've put it on the lonely grave, but I took it w/ me for remembrance.

We arrived back at Cory & Anna's around 17:30 (Europeans follow military time) and had a quick bite. I had to talk to Doug and the girls and to Dad and to write this before turning in. It's now almost midnight, and I need some sleep to prepare for tomorrow's adventures.

Sunday, 25 July 2010 --Day 217 (230)

We went back into Blois, pronounced Blurrh, for a chocolatine and cafe in front of the Chateau Royal de Blois, planning to view it when it opened at 9:00. Upon discovering the cost to enter (9.50 Euros), we moved on to the Chateau Royal de Chambord. This castle was a monstrosity w/ 282 fireplaces, 77 staircases, and 426 rooms. We learned in London that chimneys are a status symbol and would sometimes put non-functioning chimneys on their roofs just for appearances. I was once again singing Chim Chim Cher-ee!

Chambord's unique, winding staircases as well as the cross-shaped layout of each floor is believed to be the design of Leonardo di Vinci, who happened to be in France at the time of Chambord's design in 1519. The chateau's chapel housed France's treasures during WW II including the Mona Lisa. It just amazes me to walk through rooms that have existed for almost 500 years....to think that Francois I, and the ego maniacal Louis XIV at various times occupied this castle. I am equally amazed when I walk through my own state of Iowa to think of the immigrants, pioneers, and Native Americans that stood on the same ground and looked at the same sky.

France has appeared more welcoming thanks to the presence of Cory and Anna. The language barrier is more of a struggle here than when I was in Mexico last summer. I could always find someone who spoke English there, but that's not always the case here in France. Cory reads it pretty well; Ron remembers some from high school; I learned some from the French tapes I recorded; but mostly we rely on little Lexi, who, at six years of age, has dubbed herself our French teacher. We're constantly asking her, "What's the word for...." and "How do you say....?"

We also saw Chateau de Troussay. We toured the grounds and gave the kids a chance to run around before returning to our hotel in Cheverny. Yes, we found an inexpensive and pleasant Bed and Breakfast. I'm writing this after a relaxing shower and am sitting on the patio listening to fish flopping in a nearby pond and ducks calling their loved ones home for the night. I can feel why nighttime is always the worst for Dad. W/ all the action and distraction of daytime activities, the quiet of the evening makes the absence of Doug, Kenzie, and Maddy that much more deafening.

Having a shower tonight was divine, and I'm anticipating a more comfortable and restful sleep..........in a bed!! I'd better get that sleep since we're planning a couple more chateaus on our way back to Toulouse tomorrow.

Saturday, 24 July 2010 -- Day 216 (229)

Yet another adventure, and we got to share it w/ Cory and his family. We set off at 6:30 this morning to visits chateaus in the Loire Valley, which is about five hours north of Toulouse and two hours south of Paris. Our first stop was in a lovely village for croissants, chocolatines, and cafe au lait before arrive at Chateau de Chenonceau, which spans the River Cher. This chateau allowed us views of the bedrooms, wardrobes, and antechambers we well as the kitchens located beneath the castle. This video shows a rendering of the entire chateau.

The gardens (jardins) here impressed me more than anything that I saw in England. I think Mom would've enjoyed France more than England, mostly to see her grandchildren and great grandchildren but also b/c of the flowers. This video shows the Jardin du Diane de Portier.

I've also noticed that the French tend to be more ornate on the outsides of their castles and more plain inside. The British architecture impressed me as being plain and almost mundane in repetition of structure while the treasures lay inside. Both royal cultures certainly have had numerous usurpations and struggles to maintain that throne. At some point, however, the French decided it wasn't worth the cost and renounced the monarchy.

Leaving Chenonceau we drove through Amboise seeing the Chateau only from the car. We spent the late afternoon and early evening in Bloise seeing a church w/ an interesting 3D sculpture that indicates the continual presence of Jesus. It was a place of silence and solace. Lexi and I lite a candle for St. Maria. As w/ my attendance Westminster Abbey service, I hope this didn't offend anyone here on earth or in heaven.

We ate dinner at Hippopotamus Resttauranti, and I was tempted to take a napkin as I saw Mom do at every place we vacationed when I was growing up. I resisted the urge since I lack her devotion to organizing them all into scrapbooks. These blog entries of my European vacation will be the closest I come to a scrapbook.

Cory purchased a tent and air mattresses in case we couldn't find a hotel, which we didn't. We then drove around for another hour and a half trying to find a campground. We had an interesting conversation w/ a drunk Frenchman on a bike as we tried to communicate our needs, and he kept repeating that the campground we had just found was closed. This was obvious since when I checked the gate it was locked. We finally settled on an out-of-the-way site near some recycling bins. The pop-up-tent truly did pop-up quickly and easily. I used the foot pump to fill the air mattresses; this was a very good leg workout, although all the walking I've done over the last week-and-a-half has strengthened my leg muscles. Cory and his family slept in the tent while Ron and I slept in the van. Ah, more adventures! Thank goodness that we had a little more control thanks to Cory's driving and the assistance of his Tom Tom named Alice.

Friday, 23 July 2010 -- Day 215 (228)

Cory had to work today so Anna and the kids took us to see the medieval castle in Carcassonne, which was built in the 11th century. There were definite similarities and differences b/w this castle and that of the Tower of London. First, the rooms were all quite plain, made of stone. the towers and walkways were much the same w/ places for catapults and later cannons. A major difference I noted was that at the tower, history was preserved and revered w/ the inside of the Tower made into a museum. Outside the Tower was the complex for food and souvenirs. At Carcassonne, however, there were no tours and no one to ask for information about the castle and typical 11th century castle life. There was a man playing dual recorders simultaneously that was truly amazing. The boutiques (shops), including restaurants and hotels, were located within the walls of the castle. As we crossed a bridge to enter the castle, a woman was trying to drive her car out of the castle and over the bridge. Even though there were fifty people entering this gate, she zoomed in on me (probably b/c I was the only one who made eye contact w/ her) and started yelling in French. I got the jest of her tirade being this entrance was for cars only, not for pedestrians. All I could do was look dumbfounded at her. I need to learn some quick French phrases to tell people off b/c, unlike the Brits, the French are much more vocal and expressive w/ their emotions.

Despite the less than warm welcome at the castle, we had a wonderful day. Anna is so organized and prepared in packing food, water, diaper bag, etc., etc. It's obvious she's very accustomed to travelling w/ three kids. She's not afraid to just set off and go. She's much more the world traveler than I was at her age, and I'm sure she would've taken the cancelled and missed flights in stride. Such is the difference in age and experience.

I finally talked w/ Dad tonight through Skype. I created an account last week that allows me to talk to people through my computer to their phones........it's fantastic. I can tell that Dad was happy to hear my voice, and he got to talk to Lexi, Livi, and Cory. I could hear the relief in his voice in actually hearing that we were all okay, and to realize that we will be back in the States in less than a week. I can't believe we only have six days left in Europe. This vacation has been much like Christmas in that I've been preparing or it for so long that now that it's finally here, it's just flying by. I've made amazing memories, and I'd like to think that Mom is w/ me in all these travels. I'd better get some sleep, Mom, we're up very early tomorrow to set off for the Loire Valley to view lots and lots of chateaus.

Thursday, 22 July 2010 -- Day 214 (227)

We finally arrived in Toulouse at about 2:00 today after another interesting morning of travel. Our flight from Heathrow was delayed 20 minutes waiting for two filmmakers on their way to Africa. This delay then caused us to miss our connecting flight in Amsterdam. Because of Ron's limited movement, we always have some type of airport transportation shuttle us b/w gates or to baggage claim. In Amsterdam we shared a trolley w/ two men, and when we got to our gate, we discovered that b/c our flight was late arriving, we missed our connecting flight to Toulouse. Here's the irony of this whole situation. The two men sharing the trolley w/ us were the two passengers for whom our London flight had waited. Waiting for them in London meant we had to wait an additional two hours in the Amsterdam airport w/ no way to contact Cory and Anna in Toulouse to let them know that we missed our flight. This is a good travel note as well: when giving flight information to loved ones be sure to include the confirmation or itinerary numbers. W/o them the airline won't release any details.

All the travel trauma was worth it to see Cory, Anna, Lexi, Livi, and Cyrus in their beautiful home in the Toulouse suburb of Cornebarrieu. We ate a delicious meal on their patio, complete w/ a champagne toast to our arrival. Doors and windows here have no screens b/c there are very few bugs, which makes me wonder if, upon Cory's returned to the States, they'll run into the screen patio door a few times before remembering they're back in the U.S. and no longer in France.

Lexi, 6, amazes me w/ her French....she has the most delightful accent, sounding like a native French speaker. Livi, 5, is much quieter, and she always speaks in English but w/ the sweetest French accent. Cyrus, 18 months, mostly grunts, and we're not quite sure yet if they're English or French. They have neighbors who are French natives, and it is adorable to hear Lexi rattle off in French. In fact, when I want to know how to say something or how to pronounce it, I ask Lexi.

Wednesday, 21 July 2010 -- Day 213 (226)

(NOTE: The next 10 entries will appear as all being posted on the same date. I did write each entry on the date noted, but b/c of details which you'll read about in the posts, you'll see why I haven't been able to post for the last week and a half.)

This has been a holiday of travels. Today I feel like I've done more travelling than sightseeing. Our flight to Toulouse, France, was supposed to take place this morning at 6:35. Notice that I said, "supposed." The French air traffic controllers decided to go on strike today so all flights in, out, and over France were cancelled. Utter chaos ensued throughout London Gatwick Airport as we tried to figure out what was happening, how we were supposed to collect our baggage, and how we would proceed. Again, this is where a phone would've come in very handy to call another airline. By the time we checked back into the Yotel that we had just checked out of a few hours earlier this morning and accessed the Internet, there were no flights available for today through Saturday. Apparently the strike only lasted a few hours b/c I was able to book flights for tomorrow morning through Amsterdam leaving from Heathrow, which meant we had to board a coach from Gatwick in south London to Heathrow, an hour north.

The Yotel as well as all other hotels in and around Heathrow were booked solid so we spent the night in the airport. We met an interesting man, Fabio Santucci, who was on his way to Rome....where else would a man w/ that name be heading, right!! He had recently moved to Houston, TX, w/ his wife and two daughters and was returning to Rome on business. Since he had missed he connecting flight and couldn't find a hotel either, we sat up talking all night. I haven't pulled an all-nighter since studying for college finals. Fabio had been in the Italian Navy, which provided the backdrop for many humorous stories.

I don't know if it was b/c of fatigue or frustration or both, but I missed Mom a lot today. I saw a young mother saying goodbye to her parents who were leaving for a short holiday. The grandmother hovered at the gate while her daughter and grandchildren walked away. This reminded me so much of how Mom used to stand at the porch window and wave as we beep-beeped around the corner. I said a quick prayer for the young woman that she cherish this time w/ her parents. Another time that threatened tears for both Ron and me was when Fabio talked about the big family Christmases he used to celebrate in Rome, and how this was such an important holiday for his mother to have everyone together. I also thought about Mom when dealing w/ the initial despair of the flight cancelling and then trying to find an alternative route to Toulouse. There was a time today when I was ready to throw it all away and book tickets back to the U.S. I wanted family and familiarity, and I wanted to be able to call Mom and have her tell me everything would be okay. Well, she somehow communicated that to me b/c after a couple minutes a few tears, I pulled myself together and did what needed to be done......that's such a Mama Lucy thing!

Tuesday, 20 July 2010 -- Day 212 (225)

Today was a much better day that yesterday, partly b/c we chose to take primarily the Underground, and partly b/c we spent today steeped more in history than yesterday.

We checked out of our hotel this morning and took the bus to Victoria Station where we left our suitcases as the Left Baggage place so we could explore more of London w/o the encumbrance of bags. We finally got smart and asked at the information station about the best way to get to the Tower of London. Thankfully he didn't say the buses. We took the Underground, which is much more direct and much less confusing. We took it again when we left the Tower to go to Westminster Abbey.

The Tower of London was incredible....well worth the 3+ hours we spent there. I can't possibly describe here everything we saw. I'll upload a video that shows a little bit.

I find British history very interesting, especially as it relates to the line of kings. Knowing this helps immensely in reading and teaching Shakespeare!! It was amazing to me that I was walking the same places that people like Anne Boleyn and Sir Walter Raleigh and King Richard III walked. I had always thought the Tower to be a place of executions, but it has been used as a palace, a place to hold the royal armour and the Crown Jewels, and of course a place of torture and execution. I also learned today that the Yeoman Guards (aka Beefeaters) actually live w/ their families in the Tower of London. At five minutes of ten, they have a Key ceremony where the main doors to the towers are locked, and all the children and grandchildren are allowed to roam about the streets w/ their scooters and bikes. How cool it must be to say that you got to ride your scooter in front of the Jewel House or the Chapel where Lady Jany Grey's remains are buried and live in the Devereaux Tower.

After having some fish and chips we hopped on the Underground to return to Westminster Abbey. We arrived too late for a tour, but the Evensong Service would be starting at 5:00 p.m. Now, I hope I won't be damned for doing this, but we went to the service inside Westminster Abbey. We didn't get to see all of the cathedral, but we sat in gold trimmed seats in an area that would've had an amazing view of Queen Elizabeth II's coronation or the wedding of Lady Diana and Prince Charles. The service consisted mostly of singing by a visiting boy's choir who sounded amazingly angelic despite some of the smaller boys appearing to be slightly distracted while singing. We weren't allowed to go to all parts of the abbey that the tours probably went, but it didn't cost us fifteen pounds either, and we can say that we've worshipped in Westminster Abbey.

Taking another train from Victoria Station to Gatwick Airport in southern London is where I'm writing this. We're staying in another Yotel just like the one we stayed at in Heathrow Airport 15th or 16th..........dates are getting really confusing w/ the time change. I'm writing this at 12:30 a.m. on Wednesday 21 July while it's still 6:30 p.m. on Tuesday 20 July back in the States. I need to get some sleep.....we have a very early flight to Toulouse, France, to visit my nephew, Cory, and his family.

Monday, 19 July 2010 -- Day 211 (224)

Sometimes I think we get so absorbed in what's supposed to be significant that we lose sight of why it's significant. We went to Buckingham Palace, and just happened to arrive about 40 minutes before the Changing of the Guard. Most of this highly ritualistic event takes place inside the palace gates and can only be seen and heard by maybe a couple hundred people smashed against the gates. The rest of us were stretching our cameras in the air hoping to get something. Most of the video I shot was of the tops of the guards' furry hats. So I'm standing there w/ my arm in the air looking around at other people w/ their arms in the air, and I'm thinking, "Why are we here? I have no idea what this ceremony is about, but I'm here b/c others determined that this is an amazing sight to see." Yes, there's a lot of pageantry, and that was exciting, but ritual w/o meaning is the true definition of a tourist.

Ron and I booked a tour on the Big Bus Company that allowed us to get on and off as we wanted and to see a lot of sites and parts of London that we probably never would've seen. I saw Kensington Gardens where the Peter Pan statue was erected mysteriously over night so the children would think it magically appeared in the morning. Mind you, I didn't actually see the statue, but I saw the gardens where this took place. I saw the only apartment all four Beatles occupied at the same time; not the apartment but the outside of the building. I saw buildings and sculptures and structures, but what really had meaning to me was the mother who sheltered her daughter from the sun using the Big Bus Company map, and fussed over her by lovingly spreading sunscreen on her face. And the young Indian couple whose parents were visiting. I don't think the young woman saw anything b/c she was more concerned w/ the comfort of her parents. Maybe she'd already seen all the buildings on another double-decker bus tour. We went on a Thames River cruise to the Tower of London only to discover that we only had 45 minutes to view it. We opted to use our tickets tomorrow. I did take some more video of the buildings and bridges, which did have some interesting histories and stories, but the biggest impression I got was, "This river is filthy. I wouldn't eat anything that came out of it, and I'm not sure anything lives in it."

I'm tired and I'm cynical and I hate London for not opening herself up to me. I'm so worried about shooting videos of the sites I'm seeing that I'm not really seeing the sites at all. I'm frustrated that I can't figure out the bus system in this crazy city. Ron and I walked around for an hour and a half looking for bus line M that would take us from Victoria Station to the corner near our hotel. We took the bus this morning, and it worked wonderfully. I figured out the bus we needed and then couldn't find the bloody bus stop! Asking bus drivers was worthless since they sent us in opposite directions. An hour-and-a-half we walked. We could've walked to the hotel and back in that amount of time, if we only knew where that was. Again, we gave in and paid the four pounds for a taxi to drive us two minutes from the station.

Climbing the eight flights of stairs, we collapsed on our beds. Ron is exhausted and his knees hurt from all the walking. We have one more day in London so I'm going to concern myself more w/ my impressions of what I'm seeing rather than trying to digitize those images to upload onto my computer later.

Sunday, 18 July 2010 -- Day 210 (223)

We're back in London, and my dogs are exhausted. We left Hanley, Stoke-on-Trent this morning by train, arriving at Victoria Station in London, and taking a taxi to St. Georges Hotel. After checking us in, I learned that we're up eight flights of narrow, narrow stairs w/ no lift (elevator). I obviously missed something when booking online that would've given us first-floor accommodations. The service here isn't the best, but I asked that Ron's suitcase be carried up the eight flights. While climbing these stairs, I'm reminded of the movie, Barefoot in the Park, w/ young newlyweds Robert Redford and Jane. She's excited about the apartment she's just rented in NYC that has no elevator, and is on the top floor. By the time Redford's character gets up to his apartment, he's so winded he can't even speak.....yep, that's what I felt like after hauling up my 40+-pound suitcase and 160-pound ass.

After catching our breath and getting settled in our room, we set off to explore London. We should've had pedometers to clock the miles we walked this afternoon and evening. We saw Westminster Abbey but only the outside since they don't have inside tours on Sunday's. We saw Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, Parliamentary Square that was filled w/ tents and people protesting England's involvement in the Middle East, toured The National Gallery to see some original works by Monet, Manet, Renoir, and Rembrandt, and kicked around the West End and Piccadilly Circus. Feeling more confident in my abilities to navigate London, we attempted to ride the double-decker bus to return to our hotel. Big mistake! We ended up going the opposite direction, and had to get on the Underground (subway) to Oxford Circus and then jump onto another subway train to Victoria Station. I literally mean "jump" since we got off one, cross to the other track and got on the next. Good thing we bought a travel card that allowed us to ride any train, underground, or bus as much as we wanted. We again took a taxi to our hotel since by then it was about 9:30 p.m. Ron said at one point today that he had a moment when he thought, "I can't wait to show Mom these pictures." We're always looking at store names and pointing out the really catchy ones, which is a game Mom loved to play. She really is w/ us everywhere we go.

BTW......I've discovered Skype is a WONDERFUL communication medium when being far away from loved ones. I can have video calls w/ Maddy, and by putting money in my Skype account, I can talk to Kenzie and Doug on the phone.

Saturday, 17 July 2010 -- Day 209 (222)

We learned several important lessons today: 1) When traveling internationally, buy a TracFone w/ pre-paid minutes, 2) When faced with difficult situations, we know how to be resourceful, and 3) God provides assistance when other outlets fail. You can probably tell from the first lesson that having a phone today would've meant we didn't have to learn lesson number two. Here's today's adventure............

One of the reasons Ron and I came to Hanley, Stoke-on-Trent, was to find out more about the connection b/w our great, great grandfather John Grindley, on whom Ron has done extensive research, and the pottery made by William H. (W.H.) Grindley. Stoke-on-Trent is known as the pottery district so this was the logical place to look. Many years ago when Lori was here she found a place called Grindley Brook in the northern county of Shropshire so this is where we headed today. Grindley Brook only consists of a pub, a petrol (gas) station, and the Step Locks of Llangollen Canal. (shown in this video)

After having tea at the Lockside Canal (too early for the pub) and watching several long boats pass through the locks, we learned that the closest place w/ a church and cemetery was Whitchurch. This is where lesson number one was learned. There was only one call box (phone booth) in Grindley Brook, and I couldn't get it work; it probably had something to do w/ all the weeds growing around it. We walked back to the petrol station to find that they didn't have a phone we could use. Fortunately, a customer in the station used her cell phone to call us a taxi to take us from Grindley Brook to Whitechurch about a 10-minute ride away. This is where the third of today's lesson came in.

In Whitchurch we went to a book store that we were told would have history books of the area. The lady in the bookstore sent us to the library. This proved to be fortuitous for we have surmised a possible story as to how John Grindley, age 26, met and married Ann Evans, age 22. According to an 1851 England Census, John was a bailiff for Mr. Joshua Jones in Ifton Rhyn parish in the county of Shropshire, and Ann Evans was a servant at this same home. We believe the two met, fell in love, and married and then immigrated to the U.S. in 1853. We were so pleased w/ our summation that we went to Chester's for the best fish-n-chips in town.

After nourishment, we went to the top of Church Street to walk through St. Almunk's Church. I am always amazed at the rich smell of wood and lilies wen entering these churches. The other feature that I love to see are the high podiums from which the priest offers his sermons. This church offered an interesting historical significance that Sir John Talbot's heart is buried under a stone of the porch to the church. He apparently wanted the people of Whitchurch to always remember the ultimate sacrifice that he offered to his country in protection of them against France.

We continued our walking, hoping to find an old cemetery that a woman told us about. We started off, but after about a quarter of a mile, we decided we were too pooped. But we again faced the dilemma of how we were going to call for a taxi. Again, fortune smiled as we saw a sign for a bed and breakfast, rang the bell, and were greeted by a sweet, stereotypically brassy older couple. The man took the phone when Ron couldn't get the taxi driver to understand that we wanted to be picked up at St. Almunk's Church and said, "It's the only church in Whitchurch. There's not but one traffic light in Whitchurch. It's in the middle of town; you can't miss it at the top of the hill." Thanks to us being resourceful (Lesson #2) and the providence of God placing these kind people before us (Lesson #3), we made it back to our hotel in Hanley.

Friday, 16 July 2010 – Day 208 (221)

It’s 2:45 UK time, but it’s 9:45 US time so I’m sitting w/ a cup of English Breakfast Tea as I write this. Ron and I arrived at our hotel in Hanley, Stoke-on-Trent, at about 2:30, and we’ve already had a very full day. From Heathrow we took an express train to Paddington Station and then another to Euston Station. Traveling by train is “smashing” as the Brits say b/c passengers get to sleep, read, enjoy the scenery, and visit w/ new people while someone else does all the driving. The most difficult part was the lack of lifts (elevators) at the stations so we had to haul our 40+ pound bags up several flights of stairs. I knew I should’ve packed fewer shoes. I should’ve packed more jeans and sweaters since it’s 65 degrees and rainy. Once we arrived at Euston Station in the centre of London, we picked up our pre-ordered train ticket for Stoke and had about four hours to explore London before we needed to get on yet another train. Fortunately Euston has a “Left Baggage” service where we could leave our suitcases, for a few, so we didn’t have to lug them around as we walked the streets of London.

My first impressions of London are, “How does anyone find where they need to go?” There are very few street signs standing at corners, instead most street names are posted on walls, fences, and sides of buildings. My second impression had to do w/ the architecture. We found what we thought was a cathedral, but once we got closer to it we realized it was St. Pancras Station….another train station. We walked inside to find beautiful porticals and a giant bronze of a WW I soldier saying good-bye to his lady love. We did find a church later, St. Pancras Church, (Church of England), but it was very unassuming compared to St. Pancras Station. The inside of the church, however, was quite lovely w/ pew doors that gave parishioners the appearance of having box seats. The other feature I found truly interesting was the small winding staircase leading up to the podium where the minister would look down upon his congregation much as God looks down upon his followers. My third impression dealt w/ trash recepticles…..they don’t exist in places where you expect them to. For example, we ate lunch el fresco and seeing no garbage cans, I took our garbage w/ us into the train station only to find no cans there either. I handed them to a clerk, and he looked at me as if I’d ask him to give me a kidney rather than take my trash. Apparently people just leave their garbage sitting on the tables, and workers come by and collect it. I did the same thing at a sidewalk Starbucks, and the woman behind the counter looked at me as if I was putting her out.

The train from London Euston Station to Stoke-on-Trent took about two-and-a-half hours, largely due to many stops along the way. The train system really is utilized here as a way for people to compute to work or to live in smaller hamlets while still having close, easy access to one of the largest cities in the world. As I said before, the train allows people to meet. I talked w/ an older gentleman who had played a jazz gig in London and was returning home. We talked about the differences b/w British and American jazz and why little baby girls always seem to be dressed in pink. There were plenty of children w/ their parents getting on and off the train sometimes for one stop or sometimes six or seven. One young couple had a sweet little girl who smiled at everyone including a man who refused to smile back at her until she just kept smiling at him until he had no choice but to be enamored by her. It was obvious that her parents gave her a lot of love and attention to create such a sweet disposition. Another young couple had four children under the age of five, and I predict that these children will grow up w/ low self concepts but will compensate for that by belittling others. I’m led to this assumption b/c the mother of these children said things to them like, “The coppers will come put handcuffs on you if you don’t behave,” and …… I was very happy when they only rode the train for one stop. People bring their bicycles on the train so they have that mode of transportation at their next stop, but there are five or six train cars so everyone manages to find room for luggage, baby buggies, and bikes.

Riding the train allowed me my first look at the English countryside. In many ways it’s not that different from Iowa w/ farms having crops and livestock. The farm houses are much bigger than the houses in the towns, and these town houses are of all the same style and material, which makes me question if British architects or homeowners lack imagination. The further we got from London, the more we felt like we were traveling back in the history of England.

Thursday, 15 July 2010 – Day 207 (220)

I’m writing this somewhere over the Atlantic as I cross the pond for the first time. I hope there will be more crossings throughout my lifetime to visit more countries and, and I want those visits to always be w/ loved ones. I know Ron and I are off on a great adventure, yet I miss Doug and the girls very much already, and I’ve only been apart from them for 27 hours.

I left my car at Dad’s yesterday, and saying goodbye to him was equally difficult, yes, b/c I’ll miss him a lot too, but mostly b/c he had this look of fear that he’d never see me again. I pray to God that’s not true. Thinking about all this gives me the same tightness in my throat and the same burning in my eyes as I do when I think about never seeing Mom again. I know I’ll see my father, children, and husband again but being suspended over an ocean in a tin can for nine hours can cause the mind to wax sentimental.

So here’s what’s been happening so far. Ron and I met at Dad’s yesterday around 3:30. We went out to the cemetery so I could put the solar light by Mom’s grave and so I could leave my car at Dad’s allowing Ron and me to stay at a friend’s house who lives closer to the airport. Dad thought the light would need a longer stick to stick out the ground to catch the sun so he went out to his shop, selected the proper size dowel, and sharpened one end w/ one of his tools. It turned out that the piece that came w/ the light worked fine, but it amazes me how Dad can think something, see it in his mind, and then make it happen even when it doesn’t need to happen. All this w/ a sixth grade education. British Petroleum could learn a lot from Dad’s problem-solving skills!

It’s always a delight seeing Phil, and it was a delightful way to start our journey by seeing him as well as meeting new friends. These new friends Bruce and Zobie were incredibly generous giving Ron and me each $100 as extra mad money for our trip. The generosity of people simply amazes me. After a tall gin and tonic and stimulating conversation, I slept for about four hours before being roused by my big brother that it was time to leave for the airport. All our airport experiences were incredibly smooth as an unfortunate result of Ron’s fibromyalgia. Since he always buys a disability airline ticket, he has a wheelchair waiting for him at every terminal. This proved especially helpful when we arrived in London Heathrow. Not only did the valet pushing Ron’s wheelchair get us to where we needed to go, he provided helpful transportation information, and most importantly, zipped us right through customs. I’m sure the other people entering the UK, who were waiting in a zig zag line that probably stretched three city blocks, were looking at us w/ both envy and anger.

Our cab driver was an East Ender so I got a chance to practice my Cockney accent. It’s a little confusing here b/c we actually left the arrival side of the airport and took a taxi to the departure side in another terminal. If we’d arrived earlier in the day, we could’ve taken a shuttle b/w terminals, but since it was after 23:00, we opted for the taxi. The taxi driver wasn’t much impressed w/ my accent, but the valet at the Yotel within Heathrow thought I did a decent job when I said, “Me bruvva’s in the loo so I’m givin’ him some pri-vuh-cee.” I must give Ron koodoos for finding out about the Yotel. It allowed us to shower and catch a few hours of sleep for before proceeding on the next leg of our journey, which I’ll write about tomorrow.

Wednesday, 14 July 2010 -- Day 206 (219)

Last week when dusting at Dad's I came across some pictures of a vacation that Mom, Dad, Ron, and David took to Beloit, WI. Along w/ the photos, Mom had written some notes as to each day's activities. The notes or pictures alone wouldn't tell the whole story but together the events come alive. Tomorrow Ron and I fly to London to set off on a two-week adventure in England and France. I'm going to use this blog during the next two weeks to record my observations of this vacation, and sometimes when we distance ourselves from close events and feelings we can see them more clearly. We'll see if an ocean apart can help me as I look for the illusive Lucy, and we'll see if it's easier to mourn from the other side of "the pond."

Tuesday, 13 July 2010 -- Day 205 (218)

I got a French mani/pedi this morning....never had one before, French that is. About seven years ago, Doug gave Mom and me gift certificates to a salon. We spent a wonderful afternoon getting pampered and primped. Mom got a French manicure that day. When we returned to my house, she decided something needed cleaned and had her hands in cleaning water for a couple of hours. The manicured nails were gone. I felt bad that she should sacrifice her lovely nails just to clean my house. I thought about that today, and decided I was going to be more selfish and careful. When I helped Doug up on the roof this afternoon, I wore gloves.

I mentioned in last night's blog that we're putting a steel roof on our house, and since it was windy today, I graduated from ground pounder to roofing holder. We have a section in the back of our house that has a pentagonal shape so it's a geometric nightmare for cutting the steel sections. To reduce the aggravation, I helped Doug carry up the saw houses and pieces of steel to our rooftop so he could do all the cutting right up on the roof. (Are you singing The Drifters' song yet? How about the scene from Footloose when Kevin Bacon, Lori Singer, Chris Penn, and Sarah Jessica Parker are in the car returning from dancing across the county line and they sing, "Up on the roof, oh, yeah, one hundred proof, oh yea"? I've been singing these songs all day!) So, I'm up on the roof holding the sheets of steel while Doug's cutting, sparks flying, and I suddenly remember the time that a steel bristle from a street sweeper got lodged in Dad's neck. He used to be the Aplington Street Superintendent and was working on the sweeper on a windy July day back in the early 1970's. Apparently a bristle broke loose, the wind caught it, and punctured a major artery.

We didn't have a doctor in town at the time so he was rushed to the nursing home where an RN applied pressure to get the bleeding under control until an ambulance could get him to the nearest hospital 30 miles away. Mom used to love to tell the story of how, after she had been notified by phone about Dad's accident, she went out the front door of the house to yell down the street for me to come home immediately. Apparently I was casually riding my new bike (actually it was a used one that Dad found at the city dump, but it was new to me) while Mom was frantically yelling for me to, "Hurry up!" The only other thing I remember from that day is entering the room at the nursing home where Dad was lying on a cot, and there was so much blood everywhere. I'd never seen that much blood, on the floor, on the walls, on Dad. But his face was as white as the paste glue I used in school. The three colors I most remember from that day are red and white and the blue of my city dump bike.

That's what I was thinking about up on the roof today while Doug was cutting steel. And that's what made me duck-down under the steel sheets as I held them in place so the wind wouldn't blow them away. Doug stopped the saw to ask what I was doing, and I told him the story about Dad and the street sweeper.

Monday, 12 July 2010 -- Day 204 (217)

"A house is a hole in the ground you throw money into." My father-in-law likes to extend this expression to our boat, "A boat is a hole in the water you throw money into." Since houses and boats require maintenance and upkeep these sayings are certainly true. We're doing some of that maintenance on the house right now by putting on a steel roof. Well, Doug is putting it on; I'm just the ground pounder, which means I run after whatever he needs while he's on the roof. Any time we've done remodeling or general upkeep to our houses, Doug has done almost all of the work. His dad always helps when there's plumbing involved, and we bring in the experts when electricity enters the mix. About three years ago, we sided our house; I actually got to swing a hammer for that job. Mom and Dad and Ron came up for a couple of days to watch the progress. I literally mean, "watch" since they pulled up lawn chairs like they were watching a movie. This isn't typical, however, since up until that point they had all helped w/ whatever work we had going. Age and failing health had them watching from the sidelines that day, but Dad couldn't sit out completely as he did attach a couple pieces of siding. Looking back now, I can see that Mom wasn't feeling all that well even then since she was content to sit and watch while Doug and I climbed around on the scaffolding.

Mom sitting was always atypical. About 12 years ago when Doug and his dad were doing some work on our house near Des Moines, Mom was cleaning. The water had to be shut off for awhile since they were plumbing something, and Mom asked, "When will it be back on?". My father-in-law replied, "As soon as we're done." He loves to tell that story. Mom was always intense when it came to cleaning, and since Dad always did all the remodeling on their house, she was right there beside him as his ground pounder, sweeper-upper, and chief cook and baker. But she definitely knew what was going on and could converse like a pro when explaining what Dad was doing. She always impressed me w/ her knowledge of carpentry jargon, which probably had a lot to do w/ me wanting to be out w/ Dad helping him build things. She showed me that a woman can be knowledgeable about building and fixing, even if she doesn't actually do it. I don't know if she was ever jealous of me being outside holding boards for Dad rather than inside preparing meals w/ her. If she was, she never let on.

Sunday, 11 July 2010 -- Day 203 (216)

Maddy started detasseling a few days ago, and on her first day she was so nervous and excited that she couldn't eat her breakfast. I remember that feeling well. On the morning that Mom and Dad took me to college, I choked down a soggy bowl of Cheerio's b/c the knot in my stomach wasn't allowing anything to pass into it for fear that something would pass out of it. Funny how 28 years have passed, and I can still remember that feeling, which is probably why I'm not a big fan of Cheerios any more. I've been getting that same sour stomach feeling each time I think about leaving Doug and the girls for two weeks while I'm in Europe. I know Ron and I will have a wonderful time once our trip is underway, but I still have nagging pangs of guilt thinking how Mom didn't want me to go b/c I would be away from my family for too long. On the night she died, I told her that she didn't need to worry about us b/c we'd be alright. I have to take my own advice now and not worry about my family. Doug will be home diligently working on home repairs and fishing; Kenzie will be busy w/ softball, work, and hanging w/ friends; and Maddy will be busy detasseling and hanging w/ friends. But I also told Mom that night that we would take care of Dad. W/ both Ron and me in Europe, I'm worried that Dad will be very lonely since we talk to him almost every day. I once heard that the person who cares least holds the most power. Right now I'm feeling very powerless.

Saturday, 10 July 2010 -- Day 202 (215)

I watched a couple of episodes of The Carol Burnett Show this afternoon, but either I'm not in the mood for slapstick or my sense of humor has changed. I didn't find them as funny as I used to. I've always been a big fan of slapstick, people using physical comedy to be goofy and silly. Doug not so much. I think we've been married so long now that we're starting to switch behaviors. Last night when we were getting ready to go to the softball game, he wanted to clean up the kitchen first while I wanted to get on the road. I mentioned how much each of us has become more like the other, and how he used to get frustrated when I wanted to clean up the house before we left for a weekend while he just wanted to get going. He said, "Yes, Dear, you've become the free spirit, and I've become the nerd." I responded, "I was never a nerd." Mom used to say that she and Dad had swapped roles too. When she was young, she said she was usually the one cracking jokes, being the "life of the party" while Dad, when he was younger, was more reserved. By the time I came along, however, Dad was the one w/ the witty sarcasm while Mom took a backseat. I guess it's natural, and I like being a free spirit, but I got a lot more accomplished when I was a nerd!

The theme song that Carol sang every night at the end of here show was, "I'm so glad we had this time together, just to have a laugh or sing a song. Seems we just get started and before you know it, comes the time we have to say, 'So long.'" And then she tugged on her left ear as a silent tribute to her deceased aunt, or at least that's what I always thought. I think maybe she mentioned that in one of her shows, or maybe I made it up. That song always had a melancholy tone b/c it was the end of the show, and I was sad that I had to wait another week. Now I can watch those shows whenever I want, but listening to that song makes me even more sad b/c it reminds me of Mom. I am very happy that I had 45 years w/ her. We certainly did a lot of laughing over silly stuff and sang lots of songs while I played the piano. But it seems like we were just getting life underway, and then all of a sudden it's over, and we're saying our good-bye's......forever. It would be great if this was just one of Carol's gags, and the punchline would be that Mom had just died laughing and not literally.

Friday, 09 July, 2010 -- Day 201 ( 214)

Not only was Mom a list-maker, but she was a note-writer too. We didn't have cell phones when I was growing up, so if someone left the house when no one was home, we had to leave notes indicating where we were, and when we'd be back. For example, if no one was home when I got home from school, I could look on the kitchen table and find out where everyone was. Cell phones may be more efficient, but they aren't as personal. Seeing Mom's handwritten note saying, "Went to the grocery store. Be back in 30 minutes. Love, Mom" says exactly what I say in my text messages to my daughters, but texting, "Love, Mom" just doesn't have the same feeling as seeing the loop of the "L" and the curve of the "M."

If Mom had to work on a Saturday during the school year, she'd leave notes on the counter instructing my sister and me of the chores we needed to complete before she got home. Not completing these tasks wasn't even an option, and I felt a sense of accomplishment being able to check things off my to-do list. I use these chore lists too sometimes w/ my daughters. I find them much more efficient than texting the girls repeatedly w/ reminders of what they need to do. So even w/ the advances of texting technology, I still rely on Mom's method of note-writing to be more thorough and compelling.

Thursday, 08 July 2010 -- Day 200 (213)

When I left Dad's today, I stopped at the cemetery on my way out of town. This was my first time going to Mom's grave by myself. I knew it was going to be difficult, but I needed to hold Mom's hand. I knelt down where her casket is buried, and placed my palm face down on the ground. It was like those nights when I was younger, lying alone and scared in bed. I'd stretch out my hand and ask God to hold it. After awhile I'd feel the weight of His hand in mine. That's how I felt today w/ my hand resting on Mom's grave. I think when I stop by next I'm going to sit on her lap like I used to just a couple decades ago. I was bigger than her, but there's always something warm and comforting, no matter how old we are, about that kind of closeness. The physical proximity allows for more emotional intimacy. Sitting that close you can't help but talk about more than just the weather or current events.

I bought a solar light today to place by Mom's grave. It's not what I've been looking for, but it will do for now for Mom's little light to shine over Aplington.

Wednesday, 07 July 2010 -- Day 199 (212)

Today was Aunt Adelyn's funeral. The minister said something interesting near the end of his message. He said that on most gravestones, two dates are listed: a person's birth and death w/ a dash that separates the two. It's the dash that's the most important part, the part that happens b/w birth and death, but it's given the smallest space on the stone. He also talked about how those of us present at Adelyn's funeral are the ones who have to fill-in the gap b/w the birth- and death-dates. I think this blog is a little bit of my way of filling-in the dash for Mom. Reminds me of Hamlet's final words to Horatio as he lays dieing from the venom-tipped sword. Hamlet asks his friend to tell his story, and to be forgiving when doing so. Horatio was filling-in Hamlet's dash.

So here's a dash moment. Tonight while sitting on Mom's side of the loveseat talking w/ Dad and Ron, I caught myself doing one of Mom's mannerisms. When she would listen, she would rest her right elbow on her left hand and press the nail of her right index finger against her front tooth.

Maybe it's time for this blog to evolve from what I'm experiencing in the mourning process to recalling memories of Mom to fill in her dash. Maybe filling-in the dash is part of the mourning process.

Tuesday, 06 July 2010 -- Day 198 (211)

I'm coloring my hair as I write this tonight. I thought covering up the multiplying gray on my head might lighten my mood. I was probably around 10 when Mom started coloring her hair and did so up until about five years before she died. I don't ever remember that she had her hair colored at the beauty shop; she used to buy Clairol and do it herself. She would walk around w/ a towel around her shoulders w/ her hair in a plastic bag while the "stuff" did its magic.

I'm back......had to rinse out the goop. I didn't have to walk around w/ plastic covering my hair, but I did keep the towel over my shoulders. I used to love to sit on the step-stool down in the basement and watch Mom as she put the stuff in her hair then gathered it up into the plastic bag. Ah, the sweet little, childhood memories that can make me smile.

When I was in my teens and early 20's, I remember thinking that I would grow old gracefully and not rely on products to color my hair or creams to soften the wrinkles. Oh, what an idiot I was. Vanity comes at midlife so I'm following Mom's rule of fighting the aging process every step of the way. She was always fond of saying, "You're as young as you feel." I've decided that covering up the gray makes me feel younger, so I'm doing it. The only reason Mom stopped coloring her hair was b/c my nephews commented that her hair looked purple. After that she decided silver was better. Black, purple, or silver, Mom always looked sharp.

Monday, 05 July 2010 -- Day 197 (210)

My aunt Adelyn passed away yesterday. It was less than eight months ago that Uncle Ervin, her husband and my dad's older brother died. Apparently I've reached the point in my life when relatives begin passing on at a faster rate, but I think losing two uncles, a mother, and an aunt in 20 months is a bit excessive. Allegedly God never gives us more than we can handle. Well, I don't think I'm handling all this very well, and I'd like to ask for a reprieve. I'm suffering from a serious lack of motivation. I would be content to just sit around and read or watch movies. If it wasn't for having my own family, I'd probably never get out of bed. I'm not sleeping well. I have no appetite. These are all classic symptoms of depression. Mom believed that a person should have the strength and will power to pull herself out of the "dull-drums" as she sometimes called them. If I know I'm depressed, I should be able to shake myself out of it, right? I know Dad is mildly depressed as well, and if it wasn't for my two aunts, his card couple, calls from Ron and me, and "Susie," he probably wouldn't be as connected w/ the human race. When I talked w/ him today about Adelyn's passing he said that it would be a burden off her son Neulyn's shoulders. My response was that Neulyn would still feel her loss. I think in a way this reassured Dad that I'll miss him when he's gone.

During the summer when I was growing up, I'd spend several nights on Ervin and Adelyn's farm when their oldest granddaughter, Becky, came to stay w/ them. Becky is a year younger than I so we had wonderful times playing Charlie's Angels. Uncle Ervin let us use his riding lawn mower so we could pretend to have chase-scenes. The hay mount was always the bad guy's hideout. The window up there that overlooked the pig pen had to be carefully navigated to avoid falling in, which made it all the more thrilling and exciting. Adelyn was a teacher during the one-room school house days, and I always imagined that since their garage was a converted school house that it was the same one that Adelyn taught in. She had a soft-spoken voice even when sharing local "news." I remember visiting there w/ my parents while Dad helped his brother w/ something farm related. Mom and I would stay in the house and visit w/ Adelyn. She always told very detailed stories, w/ explanations as to whom she was talking about and how they were all related. As a youngster, I found these stories fascinating. It was at their house that I remember lying on their living room floor listening to President Nixon offer his resignation speech. It was their front lawn that had the biggest Weeping Willow tree w/ the stereotypical swing in it. When it came time for me to choose a personal attendant for my first wedding, I chose Aunt Adelyn b/c she was a special part of my youth. She took this position as personal attendant very seriously even checking out books and magazines as to what was expected of her in that role. As her role as aunt, she threw me a bridal shower, and as her role as personal attendant she gave me my first negligee.

As I got older, and she got older, I found less tolerance for the gossip and as a result, visited her less even though she and Uncle Ervin moved a block away from Mom and Dad's. Maybe I never forgave her for getting old and getting sick and giving in. I'm sorry, Aunt Adelyn, for the times that I was home visiting Mom and Dad when I didn't go to visit you. Mom's waiting for you to hear some more stories.

Sunday, 04 July 2010 -- Day 196 (209)

(Note: Once again I'm writing this a day late. The 4th was filled w/ day- and night-long fun, ending at around midnight when we returned home from the fireworks.)

During the last decade the 4th of July had become a day of family reunion and fun at the lake. Doug's cousin had a lake house where his side of the family would gather for food, games, and water sports. That cousin divorced so last year I decided we'd start our own tradition. The temperature was quite cool last year but comfortable for picnicking, which we did at Pikes Point Park on West Lake Okoboji. Mom was huddled under layers of clothes, coats, and blankets. She looked so small and frail, but she mustered the strength for a boat ride. I thought about that yesterday as I sat in the same seat of our boat cruising around the lake. I thought about it and it made me sad, but then I looked around and saw my husband and daughters w/ me and realized that I could still have family fun at the lake so Maddy and I danced on the stern. I told Doug that I didn't want to go to Pikes Point this year. Not only did we not picnic there, he didn't even drive the boat past the grounds. And we didn't even picnic but instead ate at a restaurant by the lake.

We live our lives for big events: births, baptisms, confirmations, graduations, weddings, and holidays. These events are made bigger and more special b/c we share them w/ family, and we consider the day-to-day events to be small and inconsequential. Last night while in the boat watching the fireworks, a tradition we've maintained these last seven years, people around us were cheering for the big, colorful, loud explosions of light. Doug started cheering for the smaller explosions b/c as he said, "No one ever cheers for them."

I missed Mom today on this 4th of July holiday, this big event, but I miss her even more on the small, day-to-day events. I want to call her on the phone and talk w/ her about these events, and right now that's what I miss the most, just talking w/ her on the phone. But if I didn't miss her, it would mean she wasn't important to me. I guess that's a good gauge of how important people are to us by thinking how much we would miss them if they were no longer in our lives. I guess the same would be true for celebrating the 4th of July. We gauge the importance of our freedom by thinking how life would be w/o it.

Saturday, 03 July 2010 -- Day 195 (208)

I implemented my Law of O.R.C.A. today by doing exactly the opposite of what I did last year at this time. Last year I had salads prepared and chicken and beef kabobs for the grill along w/ several different desserts ready for my family, but this year I've made nothing. The only family I've surrounded myself w/ are my daughters. Instead of Doug making us a fish fry like he did last year, he went fishing while the girls and I went to Kenzie's softball tournament and ate out. Yes, it's denial and avoidance, and I plan on doing the same thing tomorrow.

Friday, 02 July 2010 -- Day 194 (207)

This is 4th of July weekend, and it's gonna be a tough one. Last year at this time, Mom and Dad and Ron and Cory & Anna w/ their three kids were here to celebrate. We had a full, wonderful weekend, and it was the last time Mom was in my home. Yea, it's gonna be a tough weekend.

Thursday, 01 July 2010 -- Day 193 (206)

I once heard or read that men truly come into their own when their fathers pass. I wonder if the same is true for women, or if we struggle to live up to the memories of our mothers. I think I'm developing a more carefree attitude, or maybe it's a care less attitude. Take today for example, I was trying to get the kitchen cleaned and the laundry done. Maddy called me twice for help at the home where she was babysitting; I had to fix lunch for Kenzie before her game, and then I went to her game. Yet, despite these "interruptions" to my work, I was content. Last year at this time, I was the type of person who made a plan for each day of what I want/need to accomplish, and then I set out full speed ahead, no holds barred to complete it. My husband says I had tunnel vision, a woman obsessed. This attitude has proven helpful over the years, but it's also caused me to miss many opportunities w/ my family. Perhaps losing Mom helped me realize that those interruptions are what make life worthwhile. I used to feel like I had to be Super Mom, Perfect Employee, Devoted Wife, and Conscientious Citizen all rolled into one. But know is seems that caring less about tasks has made me more carefree.

Wednesday, 30 June 2010 -- Day 192 (205)

My checkup at Mayo went well. The enlarged lymph node is still in my abdomen, but it's the same size as last year so they're okay w/ it. So, I'll go back again next year. Just something I'll have to do for the rest of my life. I can live w/ that.

I was very emotional today, probably b/c I was so uncertain of what my tests would show. I've been feeling fine, but I was feeling fine six years ago when they found the tumor on my kidney. And if it hadn't been for the double vision from the brain aneurysm, they never would've found the cancer on my kidney. Being in a hyper-emotional state today meant every older couple I saw made me think of Mom and Dad. There was one woman who sat near me in one of the waiting rooms who had silver hair just like Mom, was dressed nicely like Mom always was when in public, and was working on a word-find puzzle just like Mom used to do. She and her husband were so sweet as they fussed over each other's comfort. I couldn't even tell which one of them was the patient b/c they were so in-sync w/ each other and neither revealed more fear or concern than the other.

Watching people at Mayo isn't something I do a lot b/c it's obvious that the people there are all dealing w/ health issues, but I notice small things. Like the woman wearing a scarf on her bald head meaning she's obviously still in the midst of her chemo treatments, but she just kept smiling as she chatted w/ the nurses. She reminded me a lot of Mom too w/ her positive outlook, and of Mackenzie b/c she was sitting w/ a heating pad on her arm just like Kenzie had to have just before receiving her infusion of Remicade to treat her Crohn's Disease. There was a young Jewish man who sat across from me looking scared and worried for his young wife, who was so thin and also wore a head scarf even though some of her hair could be seen underneath it. From where he sat in the waiting area, he could see his wife in the room where IV's are started for people who are about to have chemo or, like me, about to have a CT scan that requires a contrast dye being injected into my body. I wanted to tell this young man that his wife would be okay and that God answers all prayers, but his eyes remained locked on his wife as he tried desperately to mouth something to her. I didn't want to intrude. I hope they get the chance to become the older couple who have faced decades of difficulties together, knowing they have each other.

I know Mom developed a rapport w/ the nurses at the cancer center where she received her chemo and radiation treatments. They all signed a certificate for her when she completed her last treatments. Dad still keeps it on the bulletin board near the bathroom.