The weekend started out normal enough: we attended my nephew's graduation party on Saturday night (or was it Friday? I seriously have "Dory Syndrome", which means that my short-term memory SUCKS) and that was a lot of fun. It's always a blast to have my family gathered together in celebration of something someone has done, such as graduation or even just for the hell of it. That's how we roll. Anyway, I find that if I am in a large group of people who are related to me, I have absolutely no problem with anxiety and mild agoraphobia. However, when I am in a situation with a ton of people I do NOT know and it's in a very close room, that's when the panic bubbles up. Take last night at seminary graduation, for instance. I had survived the actual graduation ceremony at the high school very well, possibly because I was busy either taking pictures or filming the musical performances, so my mind was pretty occupied. I was also surrounded by my former in-laws, who, even after five years, I still love with all my heart because they are truly wonderful people. Anyway, I digress. So, in the short time between the time we had arrived home from the high school graduation and when we left for seminary graduation, I began to have some doubts as to whether or not I should even attend seminary graduation because I was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed and edgy (never a good sign for me). In the end, I did end up going, which, as time progressed, I realized that this was a very big mistake on my part.
It all started innocuously enough: the prelude music was beautiful and peaceful, and it brought the Spirit into my heart. Even the procession of the graduates was great: I have known most of these kids since they were about 12 years old, and some of them, even longer than that. Anyway, the first talk was great, but the girl shared a couple of experiences with heeding the warnings of the Holy Ghost, and then finding out why she was prompted to veer from her normal routine. It wasn't that I was upset about anything she said, but the experiences were eerily similar to the manner in which my youngest sister was killed a few weeks ago: she was traveling at a high rate of speed when she hit a deer and lost control of her SUV. The car rolled, and her seat belt failed, and she was thrown from the driver's side window, landing approximately 100 + feet from the vehicle. She suffered extreme head and chest trauma, and from what I understand, she broke her neck, as well. Anyway, it just evoked some pretty intense emotions in me, and I began to cry. After this gal's talk, there was a string trio, and these musicians, who are teens, are very talented. They played a medley of hymns, and there were two that put me over the edge, one of which caused a flashback to erecting my sister's roadside memorial. That song was "I Am a Child of God", one of my sister's favorite hymns, and it was the first hymn we sang before we departed. Now, I cannot listen to that hymn without crying my heart out. The second hymn that affected me was "O My Father", which, regardless of the situation, ALWAYS brings me to tears because I feel Heavenly Father so strongly when I hear it. That was it; I had to get out of the chapel and run outside so I could cry uncontrollably and not disrupt the program. After about fifteen minutes or so, I returned to the foyer and remained there until the program was pretty much over (they were handing out the diplomas by this time), at which time, I returned to the chapel. I did great during the closing hymn, which was one of my favorites, so it buoyed my spirits somewhat.
After the program concluded, there was a reception of sorts in the gym behind the chapel. I did fairly well until one of my dearest friends came up and hugged me, asking me how I was doing. I have no idea why this is, but anytime anyone has hugged me since I lost my sister, I totally start bawling. I don't know if the affection triggers some kind of emotional response, but I will be glad when that diminishes because right now, it's kind of embarrassing. Anyway, I totally lost it, and though I merely started out weeping, things quickly spiraled out of control and before I knew it, I was having a full-blown anxiety attack.....AT CHURCH!!!! I began to pretty much freak out and was sobbing uncontrollably, hyperventilating, and nearly screaming, "I can't breathe! Get me out of here! I can't breathe!" I bolted outside, yet again, but this time, my mom followed, and eventually, one of the stake presidency, who also happens to be a doctor (and is fully aware of my issues, as it were). I don't think Mom really knew how to deal with this, as she was slightly affected by the same things as I was, but was holding it together much better than I was, so it was up to Dr. Drake to handle the situation. As there were no paper bags readily available, I had to breathe into a tithing envelope, which I found kind of funny afterwards (I don't know why). After a while, I had completely chilled out and was able to be reasonable and calm. We found my older sister, who drove my car home (her husband followed us in their car) and made sure Mom and I got into the house okay. Once there, it was total pajama time (I had been wearing a dress ALL FREAKING DAY and I was SO ready to be rid of it, though I am a VERY feminine gal).
After a while, my boys arrived home, and since they are the only priesthood holders in the home, I asked them to contact our home teachers to come and administer a blessing on me so I could experience some peace and be able to relax enough so I could possibly get some sleep. As they gave me the blessing, I SERIOUSLY felt my little sister holding my hand on one side, and Heavenly Father standing on the other side of me. I realize to those who do not share my religious beliefs and /or do not understand the LDS religion, this probably sounds totally loopy, but this was REAL. I have no doubt in my mind that this truly happened. After the blessing was completed, I had this distinct feeling of peace and love coursing through my body. It was such an amazing feeling, and words cannot describe it.
I guess that what I am attempting to convey is that though I totally fell apart in front of a very large group of my peers, I initially felt very ashamed. After much thought and prayer, I realized that what occurred was nothing to be ashamed of. Panic and anxiety attacks just happen sometimes, and there isn't much anyone can do about them, other than comfort the one dealing with it and realize that it's part of a physical/mental disorder and cannot be helped. That knowledge helped me to realize that it was unlikely that those who witnessed this weren't going to judge me (all of us have our own issues that we deal with, and some are more obvious than others), and if they did, that was their malfunction, not mine. Despite this experience, I am not going to let this control my life, nor will I allow it to prevent me from attending church. Church is where I find peace and solace, and nothing is going to keep me from seeking and experiencing the feelings I have when I am in the house of the Lord.
To those who were around me when I fell apart, please don't think that you have done ANYTHING wrong. I was a mess to begin with, and sympathy just makes me cry right now. That will diminish, so please bear with me and realize that you are all still my dear friends and I love you.
Until next time.............
Monday, May 19, 2014
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Patience
It is a well-known fact among those who know me well that I do not possess a large amount of patience. I n fact, it has been said that when God was giving out the gift of patience, He skipped me entirely. However, contrary to popular belief, I DO have some patience, but not much. For example, I am attempting to upload a video to You tube from the choir concert I attended on Monday, and though I have been letting it do its thing for the past hour and a half, it STILL has about half an hour left (not counting processing) before it's completed. This annoys me to no end. It's not a very long video, so why in the world would it take nearly two freaking hours to upload? It is a baffling concept.
I often wish I had more patience. It would certainly benefit me, as my lack of patience, and the verbalizing thereof, tends to get me into trouble. I tend to get incredibly impatient with people who I deem as lacking in intelligence (and I am usually not far off the mark with that theory). I never say anything out loud, but my thoughts are so not kind. However, though I hold my tongue, it is very tempting to jump up and down and scream, "You freaking idiot!!!! What the hell is wrong with you???" I refrain, however, and try to change my mindset to remind myself that such thoughts and impulses are very unkind and would benefit no one, even if it would blow off some steam.
Right now, my patience is being sorely tested not only by the eternal uploading to You Tube, but the sluggish nature of the internet connection here at the library today. At first, I thought that I had too many windows open on my computer and that was slowing things down, but that had never really caused any issues before. Regardless, I closed all windows except YouTube and Blogspot (so I could actually write a blog today). This, however, made absolutely no difference. It's a library-wide issue. All the big computers are hardly working, and both of us patrons who are using laptops are battling the irritating slowness of the internet/Wi-Fi connection. Bah. I do not like slow. Slow, in this instance, is bad. It's irritating. It is making me want to bite the hell out of someone or something. Yes, I totally realize that I need to chill the heck out, but gosh darn it, I am not a patient individual, which we have already established.
You know what I need? Chocolate, and a lot of it. Chocolate makes everything MUCH better, even incurable impatience. It possesses endorphins (by the way, I feel that ice cream also has endorphins), which will make me oh-so-happy. Maybe I'm PMS-ing (minus the M, which has not occurred in years, thank God). Maybe that's why my usually controllable impatience has escalated to a nearly chocolate necessity level. It's probably be a good idea to procure something chocolate prior to going home, or things could get ugly. Well, not really, because the twins totally ignore me when I am in one of "those" moods. Truth be told, it really doesn't even have to be chocolate to quell my crankiness. It could be anything sweet. Sweet is good. Sweet is VERY good. Maybe yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Hmmmm. That sounds kind of appealing.
Oh jeeze, I need to stop talking about food. I am hungry as it is, and I am NOT leaving here until that stupid video uploads and I can share it on Facebook. I refuse to give up, even if I am really hungry and cranky. I WILL PREVAIL!!!!!!!
That being said, I will end this for now, before I work myself into a lather or something. Peace out. :)
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Aviophobia
I hate flying. Pure and simple. Okay, let me rephrase that. Flying, itself, really does not bother me all that much, but takeoff and landing nearly throw me into a panic attack or make me pass out from fear. I am not sure why this is, because I always loved to fly when I was younger. It's just been since I've been an adult that I have developed this fear.
As I have flown recently, I discovered something: my fear of flying has not been helped by my fascination with the show "Air Crash Investigations". Seriously, I have no idea why I love this show, because it pretty much shows anything and everything that can go wrong with a plane. And wouldn't you know, I was thinking of these shows as I boarded my flight in Boise two weeks ago. This nearly rendered me catatonic, but then I switched gears and chose to think of the movie "Airplane!" instead. That was much more comforting, and infinitely more amusing. Throughout the flight, all I could think about was Barbara Billingsley as the Jive Lady. What was even more hilarious (and quite ironic) was when we flew from Denver to Des Moines. There was an individual who had a guitar as one of their carry on pieces. I automatically thought of the scene where the flight attendant was singing "River of Jordan" to the gravely ill little girl and kept pulling her IV out with the neck of the guitar. Ohhhhh, good times!
Though I mostly concentrated on the more amusing aspects of air travel, I couldn't help but occasionally think of some of the "Air Crash Investigations" episodes I had recently watched. Word of advice: NEVER watch something like that if you are already afraid of flying and are planning to travel by plane anytime in the near future. It just exacerbates your fear. Duh.
It's funny, but once I get up in the air, I do pretty well, except when we make a turn. I am always afraid that the plane is going to to a spin move and flip over and I'll plummet to the ground. Takeoff darn near kills me. My heart feels like it's coming out my nose, my lungs feel like they're going to fall out of my butt, and I get really lightheaded (possibly because I am hyperventilating). It is a proven fact that I white-knuckle it until we reach cruising altitude. At that point in time, I enjoy my complimentary beverage and people-watch, which, on a plane, is most amusing. I swear I get all the really funky people on any flight I happen to be on.
Landing is not a lot better, but I handle it. My heart and lungs stay put in my chest cavity, and I don't hyperventilate. I do, however, white-knuckle it the entire time until the plane either slows down or comes to a complete stop. Then, and only then, can I relax. By the time I deplane, I am ready to kiss the terra firma.
The other aspect of flying that really bothers me is turbulence. Since I live in a mountainous area, flying out of the airport is ALWAYS turbulent (and therefore not so fun) because it is a fact that when you fly over the mountains, the air currents cause turbulence. And it never fails; every time we experience severe turbulence, I happen to have a full bladder, and darn it all to heck, the seatbelt sign is on, and I CAN'T FREAKING USE THE BATHROOM! During this time, I am practically twisting myself into a pretzel shape in order to not be incontinent of bladder. Oh my, that is a most uncomfortable feeling. When this happens, as soon as I deplane, I am off like a shot and booking it to the nearest bathroom. It is that time that I can fully relax, bladder and all. The other thing I cannot tolerate in regards to turbulence is that it is not my idea of fun to be jiggled all over the place at 32,000 feet above the ground. Aw, HECK no! By the time I am off the plane, I feel like a James Bond cocktail: shaken, but not stirred.
Though flying is NOT my preferred method of travel, I do manage to endure it, usually with the help of a Xanax or two. I also try to keep myself occupied so I don't focus on the fact that I really don't much care for flying. Thankfully, I have no intention of flying again anytime soon, so I shall enjoy the ground for now.
Until next time.......
As I have flown recently, I discovered something: my fear of flying has not been helped by my fascination with the show "Air Crash Investigations". Seriously, I have no idea why I love this show, because it pretty much shows anything and everything that can go wrong with a plane. And wouldn't you know, I was thinking of these shows as I boarded my flight in Boise two weeks ago. This nearly rendered me catatonic, but then I switched gears and chose to think of the movie "Airplane!" instead. That was much more comforting, and infinitely more amusing. Throughout the flight, all I could think about was Barbara Billingsley as the Jive Lady. What was even more hilarious (and quite ironic) was when we flew from Denver to Des Moines. There was an individual who had a guitar as one of their carry on pieces. I automatically thought of the scene where the flight attendant was singing "River of Jordan" to the gravely ill little girl and kept pulling her IV out with the neck of the guitar. Ohhhhh, good times!
Though I mostly concentrated on the more amusing aspects of air travel, I couldn't help but occasionally think of some of the "Air Crash Investigations" episodes I had recently watched. Word of advice: NEVER watch something like that if you are already afraid of flying and are planning to travel by plane anytime in the near future. It just exacerbates your fear. Duh.
It's funny, but once I get up in the air, I do pretty well, except when we make a turn. I am always afraid that the plane is going to to a spin move and flip over and I'll plummet to the ground. Takeoff darn near kills me. My heart feels like it's coming out my nose, my lungs feel like they're going to fall out of my butt, and I get really lightheaded (possibly because I am hyperventilating). It is a proven fact that I white-knuckle it until we reach cruising altitude. At that point in time, I enjoy my complimentary beverage and people-watch, which, on a plane, is most amusing. I swear I get all the really funky people on any flight I happen to be on.
Landing is not a lot better, but I handle it. My heart and lungs stay put in my chest cavity, and I don't hyperventilate. I do, however, white-knuckle it the entire time until the plane either slows down or comes to a complete stop. Then, and only then, can I relax. By the time I deplane, I am ready to kiss the terra firma.
The other aspect of flying that really bothers me is turbulence. Since I live in a mountainous area, flying out of the airport is ALWAYS turbulent (and therefore not so fun) because it is a fact that when you fly over the mountains, the air currents cause turbulence. And it never fails; every time we experience severe turbulence, I happen to have a full bladder, and darn it all to heck, the seatbelt sign is on, and I CAN'T FREAKING USE THE BATHROOM! During this time, I am practically twisting myself into a pretzel shape in order to not be incontinent of bladder. Oh my, that is a most uncomfortable feeling. When this happens, as soon as I deplane, I am off like a shot and booking it to the nearest bathroom. It is that time that I can fully relax, bladder and all. The other thing I cannot tolerate in regards to turbulence is that it is not my idea of fun to be jiggled all over the place at 32,000 feet above the ground. Aw, HECK no! By the time I am off the plane, I feel like a James Bond cocktail: shaken, but not stirred.
Though flying is NOT my preferred method of travel, I do manage to endure it, usually with the help of a Xanax or two. I also try to keep myself occupied so I don't focus on the fact that I really don't much care for flying. Thankfully, I have no intention of flying again anytime soon, so I shall enjoy the ground for now.
Until next time.......
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Recovery With Humor
My family is well-known for our sense of humor, even in the most horrible of situations. For example, while we were all in Iowa for my sister's funeral, we all spent time together, and as per usual, humor was very much present.
One of the other more interesting traits in our family is the inability to hear things as they are actually said, as well as butchering the English language and totally misquoting sayings. While we were gathered together during a "planning meeting" (in our family, that means that we are all together in one location, but as we are all more than a little ADD, we never stay on topic and therefore take forever to plan anything) for a family memorial for my sister, my oldest sister was reading something on her I-Pad and had her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. Now, I cannot remember exactly who said this, but it was pointed out that Tina (my oldest sister) had her glasses in a geriatric position. My nephew, Adam, totally misheard what was said and asked Tina why she had a geriatric pillow and what kind of position it was in. As is usual in my family, this phrase spiraled out of control to the point where Adam asked Tina if her geriatric pillow was in a sexual or otherwise position. Of course, uncontrollable laughter ensued, and some of us (okay, me) were laughing so hard that we a) could not breathe, and b) may or may not have needed a Poise pad. This became a running joke during the entire trip.
A little later that evening, the topic of the hotel that my two older sisters were staying at in Ottumwa was rumored to be haunted. This fact was verified via some website (it was on my sister, Alisa's phone, so I have no idea what the site was). Prior to gaining this knowledge, my nephew, Adam, had wrapped a shirt (or a towel; I don't really remember which) around his head and my sister, Tina took a picture of it. She forgot that she had taken the picture and had not posted to Facebook when it was verified that the Hotel Ottumwa was indeed haunted. At this time, Tina posted, "Great. I just found out that my hotel is haunted." Little did she know at the time that this was inadvertently posted as a caption to the picture she had taken of Adam. Since he had something wrapped around his head, it made the post even more hilarious. More uncontrollable laughter erupted, and again, there was the distinct possibility of a Poise moment occurring.
During the discussion on the haunted motel, my sister, Alisa, wanted to know some more information in regards to the motel (this actually may have taken place prior to verifying the info). She said (and with modified jazz hands, mind you), "Curiosity struck the cat....." That did it for the rest of the family. We were practically rolling on the floor at that little gem. Oh, to go back to an earlier part of the trip, my sister, Teresa, bragged to my sister, Alisa, that we were going to beat her to Des Moines since our flight left earlier than Alisa's. When we got stranded in Denver because the douche-nozzles that flew our connecting flight were buttheads and didn't hold the plane for us (by the way, I would STILL like to bite them), Teresa had to admit she was wrong about us arriving first. She called Alisa and said, "I am going to have to eat pie and admit I was wrong." Tina and I completely lost it because she meant to say that she was going to have to eat crow and admit she was wrong. Ahhhhh, I love how our family completely destroys sayings. They always come out so funny!
Since our return flight to Boise via Denver left Wednesday morning at 6:30 am (a very ungodly hour for me, mind you....much coffee was ingested during the flight), we stayed overnight in Des Moines so we could arrive at the airport in good time. When we got to Des Moines, we were all ravenous and decided to stop at Perkins for dinner. By this time, all of us were so exhausted, physically and mentally, we were more than a little punchy. We entertained ourselves by taking selfies with Tina's and Teresa's phones. Teresa got a selfie with half of my head in it, since I felt it was my duty to photobomb her. This was a really cool pic, because Teresa was making boobly eyes and I don't remember what I was doing, other than trying to block Teresa's face with my fat head. Tina, however, took the cake with her selfie. I don't know if it was the angle of the phone or what, but her head looked a little like a big gumdrop; narrow at the top and broad at the bottom. And her facial expression.....oh my, it was hilarious. I seriously cannot even describe it. All I know is that when I saw the picture, I almost shot Diet Coke out of my nose. Again, we dissolved into gales of laughter, and the other patrons looked at us as if we were insane. Maybe we are, just a little bit, but hey, we know how to amuse ourselves!
I am so grateful that my family possesses an insatiable sense of humor. It has gotten us through some pretty awful times. Sometimes, we just need a little laughter to make life more bearable.
One of the other more interesting traits in our family is the inability to hear things as they are actually said, as well as butchering the English language and totally misquoting sayings. While we were gathered together during a "planning meeting" (in our family, that means that we are all together in one location, but as we are all more than a little ADD, we never stay on topic and therefore take forever to plan anything) for a family memorial for my sister, my oldest sister was reading something on her I-Pad and had her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. Now, I cannot remember exactly who said this, but it was pointed out that Tina (my oldest sister) had her glasses in a geriatric position. My nephew, Adam, totally misheard what was said and asked Tina why she had a geriatric pillow and what kind of position it was in. As is usual in my family, this phrase spiraled out of control to the point where Adam asked Tina if her geriatric pillow was in a sexual or otherwise position. Of course, uncontrollable laughter ensued, and some of us (okay, me) were laughing so hard that we a) could not breathe, and b) may or may not have needed a Poise pad. This became a running joke during the entire trip.
A little later that evening, the topic of the hotel that my two older sisters were staying at in Ottumwa was rumored to be haunted. This fact was verified via some website (it was on my sister, Alisa's phone, so I have no idea what the site was). Prior to gaining this knowledge, my nephew, Adam, had wrapped a shirt (or a towel; I don't really remember which) around his head and my sister, Tina took a picture of it. She forgot that she had taken the picture and had not posted to Facebook when it was verified that the Hotel Ottumwa was indeed haunted. At this time, Tina posted, "Great. I just found out that my hotel is haunted." Little did she know at the time that this was inadvertently posted as a caption to the picture she had taken of Adam. Since he had something wrapped around his head, it made the post even more hilarious. More uncontrollable laughter erupted, and again, there was the distinct possibility of a Poise moment occurring.
During the discussion on the haunted motel, my sister, Alisa, wanted to know some more information in regards to the motel (this actually may have taken place prior to verifying the info). She said (and with modified jazz hands, mind you), "Curiosity struck the cat....." That did it for the rest of the family. We were practically rolling on the floor at that little gem. Oh, to go back to an earlier part of the trip, my sister, Teresa, bragged to my sister, Alisa, that we were going to beat her to Des Moines since our flight left earlier than Alisa's. When we got stranded in Denver because the douche-nozzles that flew our connecting flight were buttheads and didn't hold the plane for us (by the way, I would STILL like to bite them), Teresa had to admit she was wrong about us arriving first. She called Alisa and said, "I am going to have to eat pie and admit I was wrong." Tina and I completely lost it because she meant to say that she was going to have to eat crow and admit she was wrong. Ahhhhh, I love how our family completely destroys sayings. They always come out so funny!
Since our return flight to Boise via Denver left Wednesday morning at 6:30 am (a very ungodly hour for me, mind you....much coffee was ingested during the flight), we stayed overnight in Des Moines so we could arrive at the airport in good time. When we got to Des Moines, we were all ravenous and decided to stop at Perkins for dinner. By this time, all of us were so exhausted, physically and mentally, we were more than a little punchy. We entertained ourselves by taking selfies with Tina's and Teresa's phones. Teresa got a selfie with half of my head in it, since I felt it was my duty to photobomb her. This was a really cool pic, because Teresa was making boobly eyes and I don't remember what I was doing, other than trying to block Teresa's face with my fat head. Tina, however, took the cake with her selfie. I don't know if it was the angle of the phone or what, but her head looked a little like a big gumdrop; narrow at the top and broad at the bottom. And her facial expression.....oh my, it was hilarious. I seriously cannot even describe it. All I know is that when I saw the picture, I almost shot Diet Coke out of my nose. Again, we dissolved into gales of laughter, and the other patrons looked at us as if we were insane. Maybe we are, just a little bit, but hey, we know how to amuse ourselves!
I am so grateful that my family possesses an insatiable sense of humor. It has gotten us through some pretty awful times. Sometimes, we just need a little laughter to make life more bearable.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Iowa Trip: A Comedy of Errors
As my memorial blog mentioned, my youngest sister, Heidi, passed away suddenly on April 24. Since she lived in Iowa, and three of my sisters live in Idaho and one lives in Oregon, we had to head out to Iowa for the funeral and memorial (both of which we missed due to scheduling conflicts). This trip was definitely a spur of the moment journey, and we were all under the impression that even though it was hastily planned, it would be relatively seamless. We were so very wrong about that.
Things started out normal enough: my two older sisters procured the airline tickets in record time, and we were all seated by one another on our first flight (Boise to Denver). However, upon looking at the departure time from Denver to Des Moines (our final destination), we discovered that we only had about 15-20 minutes to make our connection. We were concerned about this, but not terribly so, since we figured we could pull a "Home Alone" and sprint to the gate we were departing from. As we were waiting for our flight in Boise, we discovered that the flight was delayed initially for half an hour due to weather. Over time, the delay increased to close to an hour. That's when the panic set in. Our turnaround time to make our flight to Des Moines was severely diminished now, and we were not sure that we could make it. My oldest sister, who is by and far the most assertive out of all of us and therefore can make miracles happen, spoke to the airline representatives and explained our plight. Finally, our plane arrived, and once again, my sister appealed to the kindness of the flight crew in order to expedite the flight process as much as possible in order for us to make our connection. Thankfully, the weather was most cooperative and our flight arrived ahead of schedule. Much to our dismay, we sat on the tarmac for a who freaking FIFTEEN MINUTES while we waited for another plane to get the heck away from our gate. During this time, we found out that our connection was departing from the gate right next to the one we arrived at. Hallelujah! This joy was short-lived, however, as we were trying in vain to deplane in a rapid fashion (I don't know what the holdup was; we stood in the aisle forever waiting to deplane). As soon as we hit the jetway, I was off like a marathon runner. I don't think I have ever run that fast in my life. Anyway, I was barreling down the jetway like a woman possessed, knocking anyone over who was unfortunate enough to be in my way. My efforts were thwarted when I arrived at the adjacent gate and discovered that our connecting flight had already pulled away from the gate and was heading down the taxiway. I was chagrined, pissed off, and very out of breath (note to self: fat chicks should never run). Soon after my failed attempt to hold our connecting flight by pulling the pity card, my sisters joined me and I broke the news to them. There were many emotions shown due to this news: fury, sadness, and disgust. I personally felt like strangling someone, but refrained. Two of us plopped down into the incredibly hard chairs that the Denver airport had to torture waiting passengers. My two older sisters proceeded to the customer service line in order to see what could be done in order for us to be comfortable for the duration (approximately 16 hours; the flight we missed was the last flight out of Denver to Des Moines--SUCKY!!!!!). At first the airline was content to let us wait things out in the airport. When the airline reps told my oldest sister this, my sister darn near levitated over the counter. It was truly a sight to behold; I was very impressed at how she "handled" and persuaded the airline to give us a hotel voucher and three meal vouchers apiece for our troubles. Soon we were on our way to our hotel, which was decorated in modern art. The elevators were my personal favorite: they had four transparent squares on the floor with blue liquid that would squish around when stepped on. Our rooms were pretty nifty,as well. For those of you who are Harry Potter geeks like me, I must tell you that the bathroom sinks looked like Pensieves.
The next morning, we were back at the airport, some of us bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, others of us clutching cups of coffee and glaring at anyone who dared try to initiate a conversation with us. Finally, it was time to board our plane to Des Moines. We were seated all over the plane; I and my younger sister were in the very back next to the lavatory. Let me tell you, this was NOT pleasant. It was stifling, it was stinky, and I was seated next to a lady with a huge burrito in her carry on bag. The scent of that mingled with the odor of the airplane lavatory was horrible. Thankfully, I occupied myself with my crossword puzzle book and did my best to ignore the stench emanating throughout the back of the plane.
We finally arrived in Des Moines. I seriously don't think any of us were so glad to be on Iowa soil as we were that day. We proceeded to the rental car counters, where my older sister had reserved a car to take us from Des Moines to Fremont and Ottumwa, where we were all staying. Much to our chagrin, we discovered that since we missed our flight to Des Moines and therefore were not able to pick up the rental car as scheduled, they rental car reps cancelled our reservation and joy of all joys (enter major sarcasm here), we had no car. I think we all wanted to cry by this time, since we had pretty much gone through hell already on this short jaunt from Boise to Des Moines. After much scrambling, my oldest sister was able to secure a car after about an hour wait. We were thrilled! This feeling was short-lived, however, as the Des Moines area had changed significantly since I had been there three years ago, and I no longer knew how to get to the highway from the airport. My oldest sister had a solution: let's rely on the GPS on her I-Phone! Initially, this was a swell idea, for we thought that Fifi (the GPS) would guide us to our destination. We soon discovered that Fifi must have been on crack because she led us in a square which led us right back to Des Moines. What the heck???? It turned out that we were about 70 miles from the highway. We soon admitted defeat and called my sister in Fremont to guide us back to the highway, and therefore, to her home. A trip that normally would take about an hour extended to about three hours. By this time, I think we all were tired of traveling and more than a little disgruntled.
We all finally made it to our lodging places.......except for my two oldest sisters. They drove in to Ottumwa and tried to get a room at the AmericInn. They had ONE room, which I think had to be a honeymoon suite, because it only had one king-size bed and a jacuzzi, and only for $90! Pffft. The girls decided to nix that idea, and ended up at the Hotel Ottumwa, which, by the way, they discovered was haunted. This made their stay infinitely more interesting. I will not go into detail about their experiences at this time, but suffice it to say, they had a very unusual stay.
The remainder of the week went relatively smooth, until the day before we headed home. My two older sisters, my mom, and I had gone to a small town (Batavia) to look for relatives in the cemetery there. After we successfully located the graves we were searching for, we proceeded to head to Eldon to the site of my youngest sister's accident in order to place a roadside memorial. All of us were supposed to meet at the site at 4:30 pm, which, in my family, means anywhere between 5 pm and 7 pm. We thought that if we took a certain road in Batavia, it would lead us into Eldon and as a result, to the accident site. This was not to be. It was pouring down rain, and since my family is directionally challenged, we got lost on a dirt road (by this time, it was a mud road) in the middle of nowhere. Mom pointed out a field access road that we could turn around on and head back to the highway. Little did we realize, there were TWO field access roads; one was gravel, and one was grass and mud. As we are an adventurous kind of people, we took the grass and mud road. We attempted to turn around, and the mud tried to eat our car. We were stuck. Not just stuck, but buried up to the front hubs in thick, clay-like Iowa mud. We tried in vain to gain purchase in the slick, wet grass, but to no avail. We tried placing cardboard under the front wheels to give them a little traction, but when my oldest sister hit the gas, the cardboard went flying into the ditch (it got some pretty good distance, too). Next, we tried placing corn husks under the tires (we were facing a corn field....big surprise). This didn't work, either. However, the husks stayed put, though they were totally useless. We attempted to call Triple A, but we were in for a nearly two hour wait. Much as we love each other, none of us savored the idea of being stuck in a steamy car for two hours waiting for a tow truck to try to find us. Finally, we say some traffic on the road behind us. First, a big silver pickup flew by us, not even noticing a black Toyota sitting in a cornfield (we had slid fully into to cornfield by this time). This must be a common site in Iowa or something. A few minutes later, a black pickup pulled up and a man who greatly resembled Larry the Cable Guy alit from the cab and offered his assistance. Oh, how happy we were to see someone that cared enough to rescue three soggy women and one dry old lady! This man proceeded to lay in the yucky mud, hook up his tow chain (praise the Lord that he had one in the bed of his truck!) to our car and then to his truck. Within minutes, we were free! Oh, the joy and rapture that filled our hearts! We were on our way to Eldon to meet up with the rest of the family and caravan to the accident site to erect the roadside memorial.
On a more serious note, we all arrived at the site with the decorations in hand. My nephew built a beautiful cross for the site, and my sisters and I made a lovely silk flower arrangement and bought a solar-powered angel that would light up at night. It was still pouring rain during this time, but none of us minded at all. We placed the cross in the ground, and my baby sister's name, birth date and death date were written on the horizontal part of the cross. On the vertical part, we wrote, "Gone But Never Forgotten". After all the items were placed at the site, we all started to leave, but I called everyone back. There was one more thing we needed to do. Though Heidi (my sister) was not a particularly religious person, she still had a favorite hymn from church. As my final tribute to her, I began to sing "I Am a Child of God", shivering, crying, and trembling. The others joined in, and we sang to my beloved sister, one last time. After we finished that hymn, my older sister, Teresa, began to sing, "God Be With You 'Til We Meet Again". I joined in on the alto part, and soon we all sang the rest of that hymn. Finally, Heidi's daddy, Wally, concluded our memorial with a beautiful prayer. Not a dry eye was to be found on that lonely country roadside in Jefferson County, Iowa. We all headed back to our vehicles, wet, muddy, and broeknhearted at the loss of our sweet Heidi Alaura.
Us four older girls finally made it back to Boise on Wednesday, April 30. We had all pretty much held our emotions in check for the duration of the trip, but on our way back to Weiser, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I let the tears flow unchecked as we headed home.
Though our trip back to Iowa was fraught with mishaps and sadness, we, as a family, were able to summon some humor from our experiences. I refrained from including ALL the details of our adventures in the interest of time and space. Suffice it to say, we did find the rainbow in the storm clouds that followed us as we coped with our loss.
Heidi, we miss you so much and know that you are in a far better place than those of us who were left behind. We are grateful that your spirit remains in our hearts forever, and that you inspire us to find humor in the most dire of situations. God be with you til we meet again, sweet girl.
Things started out normal enough: my two older sisters procured the airline tickets in record time, and we were all seated by one another on our first flight (Boise to Denver). However, upon looking at the departure time from Denver to Des Moines (our final destination), we discovered that we only had about 15-20 minutes to make our connection. We were concerned about this, but not terribly so, since we figured we could pull a "Home Alone" and sprint to the gate we were departing from. As we were waiting for our flight in Boise, we discovered that the flight was delayed initially for half an hour due to weather. Over time, the delay increased to close to an hour. That's when the panic set in. Our turnaround time to make our flight to Des Moines was severely diminished now, and we were not sure that we could make it. My oldest sister, who is by and far the most assertive out of all of us and therefore can make miracles happen, spoke to the airline representatives and explained our plight. Finally, our plane arrived, and once again, my sister appealed to the kindness of the flight crew in order to expedite the flight process as much as possible in order for us to make our connection. Thankfully, the weather was most cooperative and our flight arrived ahead of schedule. Much to our dismay, we sat on the tarmac for a who freaking FIFTEEN MINUTES while we waited for another plane to get the heck away from our gate. During this time, we found out that our connection was departing from the gate right next to the one we arrived at. Hallelujah! This joy was short-lived, however, as we were trying in vain to deplane in a rapid fashion (I don't know what the holdup was; we stood in the aisle forever waiting to deplane). As soon as we hit the jetway, I was off like a marathon runner. I don't think I have ever run that fast in my life. Anyway, I was barreling down the jetway like a woman possessed, knocking anyone over who was unfortunate enough to be in my way. My efforts were thwarted when I arrived at the adjacent gate and discovered that our connecting flight had already pulled away from the gate and was heading down the taxiway. I was chagrined, pissed off, and very out of breath (note to self: fat chicks should never run). Soon after my failed attempt to hold our connecting flight by pulling the pity card, my sisters joined me and I broke the news to them. There were many emotions shown due to this news: fury, sadness, and disgust. I personally felt like strangling someone, but refrained. Two of us plopped down into the incredibly hard chairs that the Denver airport had to torture waiting passengers. My two older sisters proceeded to the customer service line in order to see what could be done in order for us to be comfortable for the duration (approximately 16 hours; the flight we missed was the last flight out of Denver to Des Moines--SUCKY!!!!!). At first the airline was content to let us wait things out in the airport. When the airline reps told my oldest sister this, my sister darn near levitated over the counter. It was truly a sight to behold; I was very impressed at how she "handled" and persuaded the airline to give us a hotel voucher and three meal vouchers apiece for our troubles. Soon we were on our way to our hotel, which was decorated in modern art. The elevators were my personal favorite: they had four transparent squares on the floor with blue liquid that would squish around when stepped on. Our rooms were pretty nifty,as well. For those of you who are Harry Potter geeks like me, I must tell you that the bathroom sinks looked like Pensieves.
The next morning, we were back at the airport, some of us bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, others of us clutching cups of coffee and glaring at anyone who dared try to initiate a conversation with us. Finally, it was time to board our plane to Des Moines. We were seated all over the plane; I and my younger sister were in the very back next to the lavatory. Let me tell you, this was NOT pleasant. It was stifling, it was stinky, and I was seated next to a lady with a huge burrito in her carry on bag. The scent of that mingled with the odor of the airplane lavatory was horrible. Thankfully, I occupied myself with my crossword puzzle book and did my best to ignore the stench emanating throughout the back of the plane.
We finally arrived in Des Moines. I seriously don't think any of us were so glad to be on Iowa soil as we were that day. We proceeded to the rental car counters, where my older sister had reserved a car to take us from Des Moines to Fremont and Ottumwa, where we were all staying. Much to our chagrin, we discovered that since we missed our flight to Des Moines and therefore were not able to pick up the rental car as scheduled, they rental car reps cancelled our reservation and joy of all joys (enter major sarcasm here), we had no car. I think we all wanted to cry by this time, since we had pretty much gone through hell already on this short jaunt from Boise to Des Moines. After much scrambling, my oldest sister was able to secure a car after about an hour wait. We were thrilled! This feeling was short-lived, however, as the Des Moines area had changed significantly since I had been there three years ago, and I no longer knew how to get to the highway from the airport. My oldest sister had a solution: let's rely on the GPS on her I-Phone! Initially, this was a swell idea, for we thought that Fifi (the GPS) would guide us to our destination. We soon discovered that Fifi must have been on crack because she led us in a square which led us right back to Des Moines. What the heck???? It turned out that we were about 70 miles from the highway. We soon admitted defeat and called my sister in Fremont to guide us back to the highway, and therefore, to her home. A trip that normally would take about an hour extended to about three hours. By this time, I think we all were tired of traveling and more than a little disgruntled.
We all finally made it to our lodging places.......except for my two oldest sisters. They drove in to Ottumwa and tried to get a room at the AmericInn. They had ONE room, which I think had to be a honeymoon suite, because it only had one king-size bed and a jacuzzi, and only for $90! Pffft. The girls decided to nix that idea, and ended up at the Hotel Ottumwa, which, by the way, they discovered was haunted. This made their stay infinitely more interesting. I will not go into detail about their experiences at this time, but suffice it to say, they had a very unusual stay.
The remainder of the week went relatively smooth, until the day before we headed home. My two older sisters, my mom, and I had gone to a small town (Batavia) to look for relatives in the cemetery there. After we successfully located the graves we were searching for, we proceeded to head to Eldon to the site of my youngest sister's accident in order to place a roadside memorial. All of us were supposed to meet at the site at 4:30 pm, which, in my family, means anywhere between 5 pm and 7 pm. We thought that if we took a certain road in Batavia, it would lead us into Eldon and as a result, to the accident site. This was not to be. It was pouring down rain, and since my family is directionally challenged, we got lost on a dirt road (by this time, it was a mud road) in the middle of nowhere. Mom pointed out a field access road that we could turn around on and head back to the highway. Little did we realize, there were TWO field access roads; one was gravel, and one was grass and mud. As we are an adventurous kind of people, we took the grass and mud road. We attempted to turn around, and the mud tried to eat our car. We were stuck. Not just stuck, but buried up to the front hubs in thick, clay-like Iowa mud. We tried in vain to gain purchase in the slick, wet grass, but to no avail. We tried placing cardboard under the front wheels to give them a little traction, but when my oldest sister hit the gas, the cardboard went flying into the ditch (it got some pretty good distance, too). Next, we tried placing corn husks under the tires (we were facing a corn field....big surprise). This didn't work, either. However, the husks stayed put, though they were totally useless. We attempted to call Triple A, but we were in for a nearly two hour wait. Much as we love each other, none of us savored the idea of being stuck in a steamy car for two hours waiting for a tow truck to try to find us. Finally, we say some traffic on the road behind us. First, a big silver pickup flew by us, not even noticing a black Toyota sitting in a cornfield (we had slid fully into to cornfield by this time). This must be a common site in Iowa or something. A few minutes later, a black pickup pulled up and a man who greatly resembled Larry the Cable Guy alit from the cab and offered his assistance. Oh, how happy we were to see someone that cared enough to rescue three soggy women and one dry old lady! This man proceeded to lay in the yucky mud, hook up his tow chain (praise the Lord that he had one in the bed of his truck!) to our car and then to his truck. Within minutes, we were free! Oh, the joy and rapture that filled our hearts! We were on our way to Eldon to meet up with the rest of the family and caravan to the accident site to erect the roadside memorial.
On a more serious note, we all arrived at the site with the decorations in hand. My nephew built a beautiful cross for the site, and my sisters and I made a lovely silk flower arrangement and bought a solar-powered angel that would light up at night. It was still pouring rain during this time, but none of us minded at all. We placed the cross in the ground, and my baby sister's name, birth date and death date were written on the horizontal part of the cross. On the vertical part, we wrote, "Gone But Never Forgotten". After all the items were placed at the site, we all started to leave, but I called everyone back. There was one more thing we needed to do. Though Heidi (my sister) was not a particularly religious person, she still had a favorite hymn from church. As my final tribute to her, I began to sing "I Am a Child of God", shivering, crying, and trembling. The others joined in, and we sang to my beloved sister, one last time. After we finished that hymn, my older sister, Teresa, began to sing, "God Be With You 'Til We Meet Again". I joined in on the alto part, and soon we all sang the rest of that hymn. Finally, Heidi's daddy, Wally, concluded our memorial with a beautiful prayer. Not a dry eye was to be found on that lonely country roadside in Jefferson County, Iowa. We all headed back to our vehicles, wet, muddy, and broeknhearted at the loss of our sweet Heidi Alaura.
Us four older girls finally made it back to Boise on Wednesday, April 30. We had all pretty much held our emotions in check for the duration of the trip, but on our way back to Weiser, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I let the tears flow unchecked as we headed home.
Though our trip back to Iowa was fraught with mishaps and sadness, we, as a family, were able to summon some humor from our experiences. I refrained from including ALL the details of our adventures in the interest of time and space. Suffice it to say, we did find the rainbow in the storm clouds that followed us as we coped with our loss.
Heidi, we miss you so much and know that you are in a far better place than those of us who were left behind. We are grateful that your spirit remains in our hearts forever, and that you inspire us to find humor in the most dire of situations. God be with you til we meet again, sweet girl.
In Memoriam: Heidi Alaura McCallum Carman
My beloved baby sister, Heidi Alaura McCallum Carman, age 28, passed away on Thursday, April 24th, 2014, from injuries sustained in an automobile accident near Eldon, Iowa.
Heidi was born in Boise, Idaho, on May 31, 1985, to Jean (Box) McCallum and Wally McCallum. As she was the youngest of ten children, it goes without saying that our baby sister was quite spoiled. It was a wonder that she learned to walk at all, as it was us older kids' duty (and pleasure) to tote her around to wherever she wanted to be.
Heidi was the consummate Mommy's girl.. She and our mom shared a very strong and special bond that was unbreakable both in life and in death. She was also very close to all of her sisters, and there was nothing we wouldn't do for our sweet Heidi.
Heidi spent most of her childhood in Weiser, Idaho, until September of 1998, when she moved to Agency, Iowa. She attended Cardinal Junior/Senior High School, graduating in 2003. She married her sweetheart, Michael Carman, in 2007, and to this union was born three beautiful sons: James Michael (aka Jamesy), Joel Mason (aka Joel Baby), and Jackson Matthew (aka Rowdy Roo). She and her family made their home in Eldon, Iowa, until the time of her death.
Heidi possessed many wonderful talents, such as baking and decorating the most amazing cakes for her nieces' and nephews' birthdays. She even made a wonderful "hillbilly" wedding cake for our sister, Heather, which was made of Twinkies and Hostess Cupcakes. Some of Heidi's other talents were creating beautiful crafts that were displayed in her home, and scrapbooking. After her passing, my sisters and I went through her belongings, and we found a couple of her scrapbooks. They were truly amazing!
Heidi's heart was as big as the outdoors, and everyone who knew her was a better person because of her loving influence.
My sister was, in my opinion, the most beautiful young woman, both physically and spiritually. There was not a mean bone in that girl's body. Though she was the youngest child in our family, she never had a problem with sharing everything she had with anyone and everyone she met. She often graciously opened her home to anyone needing a place to rest their head, even if for a short time.
Though Heidi did have some struggles later in life, she was putting her life back together at the time of her death. Heidi is now perfect, free from adversity or pain, and having that knowledge eases the pain of losing her somewhat.
To tell you how well-loved Heidi was (and still is), she has had two memorials celebrating her life, and another is being planned in her hometown of Weiser, Idaho, sometime in May. The burial of her ashes took place on Thursday, May 1, 2014, at the Eldon Cemetery in Eldon, Iowa. A roadside memorial at the site of the accident was also erected on Tuesday, April 29, by her sisters and parents.
Though Heidi has left this world for a more beautiful dwelling, her spirit lives on in all of our hearts. Heidi made the unselfish decision prior to her death to become an organ donor. Because of this decision, four lives were saved and Heidi lives on through the recipients of her organs.
Heidi is survived by her parents, Jean Box, Wally McCallum, Jr., and Irene McCallum, all of Weiser. She is also survived by her husband, Michael Carman, of Eldon, Iowa, and her children, James, Joel, and Jackson, all of Eldon, Iowa. Heidi is also survived by her siblings, Greg McCallum of Utah, Lorna McNay of Roy, Utah, Tina (Doug) Freeman of Boise, Idaho, Teresa (VerNon) Chandler of Weiser, Idaho, Crystal Channell-Herrick of Weiser, Idaho, Courtney Shaw of Baker City, Oregon, Amber McCallum Proctor of Fremont, Iowa, Alisa (Matt) Lutje of Weiser, Idaho, and Heather (Joe) Maize of Ottumwa, Iowa. Heidi is also survived by 8 nieces, 25 nephews, a great-nephew, and a great-niece.
Heidi was preceded in death by a sister, Tracey Jean, a brother, Timothy Christopher, her maternal grandparents, Marie and Elmer Box, and Wallace McCallum, Sr. and Marian Nelson, her uncle, Robert Earl Box, and her brother-in-law, Robert Ray Valencia, Jr.
Though Heidi has passed on to a more beautiful world, her spirit remains in our hearts always. She has made us all better individuals by her loving example.
The family wishes to thank Jefferson County EMS, Life Flight, and the staff on the neurosurgical ICU at University Hospital in Iowa City, Iowa, for the wonderful, loving care they gave to our beloved sister in her final hours. We also thank them for the kindness shown to the family during this devastating time.
"We love you forever, we like you for always, forever and ever our baby you'll be."
Godspeed, sweet girl. May you always walk with Jesus.
Heidi was born in Boise, Idaho, on May 31, 1985, to Jean (Box) McCallum and Wally McCallum. As she was the youngest of ten children, it goes without saying that our baby sister was quite spoiled. It was a wonder that she learned to walk at all, as it was us older kids' duty (and pleasure) to tote her around to wherever she wanted to be.
Heidi was the consummate Mommy's girl.. She and our mom shared a very strong and special bond that was unbreakable both in life and in death. She was also very close to all of her sisters, and there was nothing we wouldn't do for our sweet Heidi.
Heidi spent most of her childhood in Weiser, Idaho, until September of 1998, when she moved to Agency, Iowa. She attended Cardinal Junior/Senior High School, graduating in 2003. She married her sweetheart, Michael Carman, in 2007, and to this union was born three beautiful sons: James Michael (aka Jamesy), Joel Mason (aka Joel Baby), and Jackson Matthew (aka Rowdy Roo). She and her family made their home in Eldon, Iowa, until the time of her death.
Heidi possessed many wonderful talents, such as baking and decorating the most amazing cakes for her nieces' and nephews' birthdays. She even made a wonderful "hillbilly" wedding cake for our sister, Heather, which was made of Twinkies and Hostess Cupcakes. Some of Heidi's other talents were creating beautiful crafts that were displayed in her home, and scrapbooking. After her passing, my sisters and I went through her belongings, and we found a couple of her scrapbooks. They were truly amazing!
Heidi's heart was as big as the outdoors, and everyone who knew her was a better person because of her loving influence.
My sister was, in my opinion, the most beautiful young woman, both physically and spiritually. There was not a mean bone in that girl's body. Though she was the youngest child in our family, she never had a problem with sharing everything she had with anyone and everyone she met. She often graciously opened her home to anyone needing a place to rest their head, even if for a short time.
Though Heidi did have some struggles later in life, she was putting her life back together at the time of her death. Heidi is now perfect, free from adversity or pain, and having that knowledge eases the pain of losing her somewhat.
To tell you how well-loved Heidi was (and still is), she has had two memorials celebrating her life, and another is being planned in her hometown of Weiser, Idaho, sometime in May. The burial of her ashes took place on Thursday, May 1, 2014, at the Eldon Cemetery in Eldon, Iowa. A roadside memorial at the site of the accident was also erected on Tuesday, April 29, by her sisters and parents.
Though Heidi has left this world for a more beautiful dwelling, her spirit lives on in all of our hearts. Heidi made the unselfish decision prior to her death to become an organ donor. Because of this decision, four lives were saved and Heidi lives on through the recipients of her organs.
Heidi is survived by her parents, Jean Box, Wally McCallum, Jr., and Irene McCallum, all of Weiser. She is also survived by her husband, Michael Carman, of Eldon, Iowa, and her children, James, Joel, and Jackson, all of Eldon, Iowa. Heidi is also survived by her siblings, Greg McCallum of Utah, Lorna McNay of Roy, Utah, Tina (Doug) Freeman of Boise, Idaho, Teresa (VerNon) Chandler of Weiser, Idaho, Crystal Channell-Herrick of Weiser, Idaho, Courtney Shaw of Baker City, Oregon, Amber McCallum Proctor of Fremont, Iowa, Alisa (Matt) Lutje of Weiser, Idaho, and Heather (Joe) Maize of Ottumwa, Iowa. Heidi is also survived by 8 nieces, 25 nephews, a great-nephew, and a great-niece.
Heidi was preceded in death by a sister, Tracey Jean, a brother, Timothy Christopher, her maternal grandparents, Marie and Elmer Box, and Wallace McCallum, Sr. and Marian Nelson, her uncle, Robert Earl Box, and her brother-in-law, Robert Ray Valencia, Jr.
Though Heidi has passed on to a more beautiful world, her spirit remains in our hearts always. She has made us all better individuals by her loving example.
The family wishes to thank Jefferson County EMS, Life Flight, and the staff on the neurosurgical ICU at University Hospital in Iowa City, Iowa, for the wonderful, loving care they gave to our beloved sister in her final hours. We also thank them for the kindness shown to the family during this devastating time.
"We love you forever, we like you for always, forever and ever our baby you'll be."
Godspeed, sweet girl. May you always walk with Jesus.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Easter With My Family
My family is well-known for being able to throw a family party together in under 24 hours without breaking a sweat. Such was true this past Saturday. We had an impromptu family get-together at my sister, Teresa's, house (she has the biggest yard of all of us) to celebrate Easter and to bid farewell until September to my nephew, Nathan, and his wife, Toria, who are summering in Canada, and to my nephew-in-law, Scott, who is fulfilling a military assignment in Alaska. There were SO many kids there, both older and younger. We had an Easter egg hunt for the little kids, and the older kids hid the eggs. They got quite creative with the hiding places. There were eggs in my car, on my sister's car, in the trees, on the trees, etc. It took some time for the kids to locate them all, but they did it. I was able to get a family picture to send my daughter and nephew in Mexico. True to family tradition, at least two or more of the family members were either making odd faces or trying to do something to another family member, i.e. pouring water on my sister, Alisa. That would be one of my nephews.
I love having family get-togethers. It is inevitable that there will be a lot of laughter and practical joking, in addition to intense Mario Kart playing by the teenagers. We are a most irreverent bunch; laughter and humor is our family trademark. It's funny, but when we all congregate in a public place, people often give us a wide berth. So they don't share our brand of humor. Nobody said they had to listen to our conversations about farts and other bodily functions. We lack the ability to get too embarrassed about things, so our conversations get pretty interesting.......all the time. We also get distracted easily, so people get lost in our ever-evolving conversations. I think that all of us are more than a little ADD, which would explain the easy distractions. But that's what makes us so interesting!
Later, peeps!
I love having family get-togethers. It is inevitable that there will be a lot of laughter and practical joking, in addition to intense Mario Kart playing by the teenagers. We are a most irreverent bunch; laughter and humor is our family trademark. It's funny, but when we all congregate in a public place, people often give us a wide berth. So they don't share our brand of humor. Nobody said they had to listen to our conversations about farts and other bodily functions. We lack the ability to get too embarrassed about things, so our conversations get pretty interesting.......all the time. We also get distracted easily, so people get lost in our ever-evolving conversations. I think that all of us are more than a little ADD, which would explain the easy distractions. But that's what makes us so interesting!
Later, peeps!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)