The first time I ever drove a car was not in a parking lot, but on a road. I was 14 years old. Neither of my parents was with me, either. It was just me and my oldest sister. I don't know why my dad wouldn't have come with me, but for some reason, neither of my parents were there. It was in the back country of Utah and it was quite exciting. Finally, I could be like a grownup!
The occasion was my grandpa's 75th birthday. We had a family reunion, and we all stayed in a barn in the town where he grew up for a few days. The barn had been converted into a big vacation home of sorts and had several rooms and bathrooms, along with a big loft upstairs. I didn't like that there were beetles and some other bugs in the rooms. I remember being horrified, in fact. Looking back, with newfound bug perspective, a beetle here and there for that location and a place is basically a drop in the bug bucket.
It had been an otherwise not-the-best vacation for me. The highlight of it all was giving Grandpa a ruby ring for his 75th birthday, and eating the cake that had the little fisherman on top of it. Other highlights were Uncle B teaching me how to play pinochle (which I have completely forgotten how to play, as I have never played it since) and having my cousin, who was great at doing hair even back then, give my mom a break from giving me fancy hairdos.
Lowlights included a horrible hike, sleeping on cots with all my girl cousins upstairs, when all I really wanted was to sleep the entire time--in a bed--and ignore everyone, and being afraid I was going to die because of the way Grandpa drove while also being worried my cousin was going to wet herself on me because it had been such a long car ride and we were also basically stuck together with sweat as she sat on my lap.
That hike was horrible. It was hot. HOT! The hike was Calf Creek Falls. I brought a little backpack full of water and a few snacks and it was like working overtime just to go each step. I think the hike was rated "intermediate" in some hiking book Mom picked up...but let me tell you: no way. We got to the waterfall and I didn't even get in because I thought about how my jeans would be super heavy with water and sand and detritus and sloggy and give me rub burns and be uncomfortably moist if I did get in, and I decided against it. I stopped for as short a time I could and drank a water bottle and then started back. My other cousins hadn't brought any food or water and they were dying. I felt like it was the parable of the 10 virgins, only it wasn't a parable, and it was water, not oil for lamps. I also felt like I was going to meet the Bridegroom -- meaning, I was about to perish. There was a point where I was on autopilot. I felt I could not stop because if I did, I literally would not get going again. I was walking with a cousin of mine and another plead for us to stop but I could not. Could not. Seriously.
Grandpa M forgot his heart medicine that day, so he was going extra slow. I don't think he made it. Gosh, I was 14, not 75, and I didn't have a heart condition, and I barely made it. I remember seeing some German people, and some ancient carvings on the canyon walls, and how hot my feet felt, and how the sand kept me slipping and sliding. I remember feeling pity for some dogs that people brought along with them. Tons of fur, in what was probably upwards of 100 degrees F, with no water?! Cruelty to animals! I think it made my little sis cry.
The saving grace was Auntie M, who had some soda in her car (I called it the turtle van) and drove in the parking lots and shuttled people back and forth. She, in her infinite wisdom, did not choose to subject herself to the trauma of the experience.
I threatened every person in the car with bodily injury if they even so much as /thought/ about sneaking into the shower before I could get there. I'm not a violent person, but this is one of the few times in my life where I made a threat of physical harm and was fairly sure I would actually act on it. I think they could tell I meant serious business, so they all backed off. My shirt -- which I actually still have (a blue-and-white checked short sleeved button-up affair from Lands' End back before it became Sears) was stiff with sweat. I thought the possibility of that happening was something to read about in books. Nope. It's a real thing.
So, those are my family reunion memories.
As a side note:
Almost no shower has ever felt as good to me as the one that I took the day of that hike. The only ones that might top it are:
(1) when my sisters and I came home from stake Girls Camp a night early (best idea ever) and I showered at like 1am. I can't remember why I was so grimy, but I know there was literal dirt involved.
(2) the shower after traveling all day in a car on the way to Phoenix in June with eight people and no air conditioning. This one last one would probably take the cake except the pipes were too close to the ground and so the one time I wanted a cold shower, I couldn't even get one! Lukewarm was as cold as it would go.
(3) the bath/shower I took after getting lost in Central Park in the stinging rain.
I would love it if in the comments those who were on that trip chime in and share any memories they have of that trip!
Tuesday, December 13, 2016
Monday, December 12, 2016
hide and seek
Today Grandpa B came over for a surprise visit and, much to his surprise, I think, he stayed for dinner and we had a good time. (Enchiladas!) I am so glad the boys have decided they like them.
After dinner, as an extended Advent activity, each of us took a turn "seeking" except me. For some reason, I was suddenly overcome by an irrational fear of not being able to find anyone and having to hunt for forever. Truth be told, there are not many stellar hiding places in our house; however, HH managed to find a passable one and, combined with our children not being particularly observant (I didn't want to actively partake in the "seeking" as I thought it would be an unfair advantage), the kids searched for HH for a long time. He got bored after awhile and turned on the sound system (there's an app for that, yes) and turned on creepy music. L got freaked out and so we yelled and ask him to change to Hot and Cold Dr. Who -- the closer we got, the louder the music. It was an interesting twist on the game -- if the music is super loud, you can't hear breathing, and it's odd to know the other person knows you're there and close but you don't know where they are. It took a few repeats of the opening Dr. Who theme before the kids found him. He was hiding behind the curtains in his office and the kids had even come into the room a few times and once were within six inches of where he stood. It's so interesting how you can be looking for something and it's right in front of you, and you know it is, but you still can't see it.
Yesterday marked a year since I first met my HH. The day after, I hosted a very successful party, which I posted about, and it seems like it was a turning point: the day after my life changed and was going to get better.
Sometimes I look at him (HH) and it seems so short since we got married and I have a mini-panic session about the choice I made. ("Do I know this person? Is he safe to kiss?") Other times, he is reading my actions and finishing my sentences and it seems as though we have been together for forever.
Being married is so different than I ever thought it would be. My emotions about being married and my spouse and situation are different than I imagined they would be, as well. Not everything is roses and moonlight -- something I knew in theory, but as much as I could have mentally prepared myself, it's all different when kids have meltdowns and the house is a mess and I'm tired and all I want is ten minutes to myself in the shower without being interrupted. Sometimes I feel like I'm playing hide-and-go-seek with my "new" reality -- it's like my internal stability, which hindsight is painting as predictable and safe (which it definitely wasn't, in many ways) is hiding and I'm seeking it. Constantly! Living with two young boys is never boring.
Life is raw, real, and messy; however, its rewards are great: I am privileged to reach out in the night and know my HH will always reach back. I do not have to play hide-and-seek with him. Or my boys.
I am grateful for each kiss, hug, and joyful cry of "mom" or "Mama!" No more games. Just the reality of making this life and these short years I've been granted the best ever.
After dinner, as an extended Advent activity, each of us took a turn "seeking" except me. For some reason, I was suddenly overcome by an irrational fear of not being able to find anyone and having to hunt for forever. Truth be told, there are not many stellar hiding places in our house; however, HH managed to find a passable one and, combined with our children not being particularly observant (I didn't want to actively partake in the "seeking" as I thought it would be an unfair advantage), the kids searched for HH for a long time. He got bored after awhile and turned on the sound system (there's an app for that, yes) and turned on creepy music. L got freaked out and so we yelled and ask him to change to Hot and Cold Dr. Who -- the closer we got, the louder the music. It was an interesting twist on the game -- if the music is super loud, you can't hear breathing, and it's odd to know the other person knows you're there and close but you don't know where they are. It took a few repeats of the opening Dr. Who theme before the kids found him. He was hiding behind the curtains in his office and the kids had even come into the room a few times and once were within six inches of where he stood. It's so interesting how you can be looking for something and it's right in front of you, and you know it is, but you still can't see it.
Yesterday marked a year since I first met my HH. The day after, I hosted a very successful party, which I posted about, and it seems like it was a turning point: the day after my life changed and was going to get better.
Sometimes I look at him (HH) and it seems so short since we got married and I have a mini-panic session about the choice I made. ("Do I know this person? Is he safe to kiss?") Other times, he is reading my actions and finishing my sentences and it seems as though we have been together for forever.
Being married is so different than I ever thought it would be. My emotions about being married and my spouse and situation are different than I imagined they would be, as well. Not everything is roses and moonlight -- something I knew in theory, but as much as I could have mentally prepared myself, it's all different when kids have meltdowns and the house is a mess and I'm tired and all I want is ten minutes to myself in the shower without being interrupted. Sometimes I feel like I'm playing hide-and-go-seek with my "new" reality -- it's like my internal stability, which hindsight is painting as predictable and safe (which it definitely wasn't, in many ways) is hiding and I'm seeking it. Constantly! Living with two young boys is never boring.
Life is raw, real, and messy; however, its rewards are great: I am privileged to reach out in the night and know my HH will always reach back. I do not have to play hide-and-seek with him. Or my boys.
I am grateful for each kiss, hug, and joyful cry of "mom" or "Mama!" No more games. Just the reality of making this life and these short years I've been granted the best ever.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)