We set out on a road trip December 1 to visit Colorado Springs, Trinidad, and Oklahoma. It took 2 weeks. They are marked as A, B, and C on this map. The Colorado visits were for sightseeing and hiking. The OK visit was to family. We were lucky to have very good weather the entire time.
It is that time of year when school seniors the world over get excited about their graduation. Well, not so much this year as we practice proper distancing and isolation. Our oldest grand-daughter was due to graduate from college. We had planned to go to Pittsburgh PA, attend the ceremonies, and celebrate. Instead, the school officials arranged for graduation via Zoom.
It is a small school and class, so the number of people involved was not a problem. Graduates, parents, siblings, grand parents, and friends were all welcome. They zoomed in from all over. Here is one of several pages with little boxes with people inside we could see online. We’re in the top row, second from the left. I’m taking this picture of the screen.
To our left was the emcee of the ceremonies. She was funny, made it very informal, and had kind words for all of the graduates. Here is a better shot of her and her colleague. She is saying something to our grand-daughter about her diploma and course of studies.
Our grand-daughter gave thanks to family, friends, and school officials for the day. Here she is in her living room with cap and gown and decorations. Each graduate got their time in the spotlight. It was a very unique and positive commencement. Nothing at all like the normal. But, it will be remembered. We were happy for our grand-daughter. We wish her well and success in the future.
Some notes from our daughter…
Snapshot of life in our house:
22 year old is on her laptop at the kitchen island dialed in to a 3 hour college course where everyone in class is talking with each other for 3 hours. Quiet required. Every Monday morning.
Husband is sitting at the kitchen table on his laptop dialed in to his Monday morning meeting (NASA). Totally not important stuff.
13 year old is *also* sitting at the kitchen table on a laptop emailing his teachers (upon my instructions) and asking for clarification as to what exactly they are expected to do during this time at home because he is certain the packets are optional. Mom is making him get confirmation from his teachers before throwing in the towel. Because, clearly, I have been misinformed. Big sigh. Eye roll. Walk away.
20 year old sits in the next room 10 feet away (no doors) on the desktop dialed in to her new online college experience. Have fun doing this for the rest of the school year kiddo.
15 year old sits in the next room (no doors) on the desk top dialed in to his online school which he has been doing online for the past 3 years…completely frustrated by this new LOUD learning environment he is expected to function in with *seven people* under one roof. Unacceptable. This is clearly not going to work, mother.
The 9 year old and I are having a late start to our day in my bedroom watching cartoons while waiting for an electronic device to open up so he can start his school day. My new playmate
We have implemented 3pm Monday – Friday as our “quiet time” cut off. Trying to be more respectful of everyone’s needs. Which, of course, requires a rule. This experiment is crazy making, at best. Pray for big families who struggle with “quiet time” on a good day. We are a LOUD family people…I’m not sure how this apocalypse is going to work
I forgot to say that I am used to being alone. And now I am NEVER alone. I know there are a few of you out there who can relate. And that doesn’t even begin to address the GLOBAL PANDEMIC happening outside our doors. Lord, we ask that you give us strength to survive this. All of this.
Amen
Getty Images | iStockphoto | Christian Chan
After Mom’s stroke, she was unable to care for herself or Dad. She was a strong and capable woman, raised nine children, and lived a farm life. They were married over 66 yrs when her stroke happened. It removed her from Dad’s life one dark winter night. He prayed for her return. He wasn’t ready to let her go. He held tight to the dream of getting her back.
22 Sept 2000
Many of us lived near enough to give Dad daily rides to the nursing home to be with her. She didn’t get better. The efforts to bring him each day became more difficult for him and for us. It seemed best for him to stay in the nursing home with her. The staff gave them much gentle care and attention.
Dad died on 28 March 2002. Mom on 16 May 2005. Maybe they are hand-in-hand again.
Summer is a time for picnics and family reunions. On a recent mid-July Saturday, our family gathered at the home of our daughter in southeast Iowa for day 1 of our weekend reunion. It is a big family. Mom and Dad, no longer with us, raised nine children. They took us to reunions when we were kids. We felt their influence this time. Here is the family portrait, over 80 of us, except for one or two taking pictures who are not quite considered ‘family’ yet.
Preparations were monumental. There was plenty of delicious food brought by many. Two men worked furiously in heat and smoke to grill the burgers, hot dogs, and brats. Kids of all ages were running around having a great time playing. The weather was sunny and bright after an early threat of rain that did not materialize.
Some came from the midwest, while others traveled from Maine, South Carolina, Washington, Arizona, and Louisiana. A good time was had by all.
The location for day 2 of our reunion was about an hour farther southeast in western Illinois. My brother lives in a small town with a park across the street from his house. He reserved the pavilion for us. Early that morning a very slow moving rainstorm dumped over 3″ of rain on the town in about an hour and flooded the park and street. Fortunately, the firehouse next door was available. Two trucks were moved out and parked in the driveway. We set up our reunion party in the firehouse. Food was in the back room. Tables and seating were in the truck bays.
The weather cleared out. The rain stopped. Water drained away. Kids headed for the park to play. We posed for group pictures of families in front of the big red fire truck. There were almost as many in attendance as the day before.
Earlier Sunday morning, mass was said at the small country church where my folks attended all their lives. It was founded by great-grandparents on my mother’s side. After mass, a graveside blessing was offered for those who could attend. Mom and Dad would have loved this weekend party.
Some people have weeds growing in their hearts, noxious weeds like hate, anger, resentment, disrespect, greed, and self-righteousness. They have let these invaders flourish too long, crowding out love, humility, respect, and kindness.
Yesterday was one more day that showed us the best and worst of people. The best and worst of family, even. Early yesterday a close family member called Jim and me, excitedly telling us of the Supreme Court ruling on legality of same-sex marriage. In a happy glow we enjoyed Facebook posts of our friends celebrating for much of the day. For me, it was expected that my friends would approve of the ruling or be silent. I have a very short friends list on purpose.
Not everyone was so fortunate to bask in that happiness on Facebook. Another family member was deeply hurt seeing some comments from a nephew. The nephew is one of those whose heart is weedy, full of poison. That nephew’s weeds, in fact, have acted as the catalyst for several major rifts in the family over the last few years. My relationship with him broke last fall after I privately told him he was treating someone badly, that I thought he was a better person than that. Turns out he isn’t.
There is no means to breed hate and disrespect out of people. It is resistant even to culturing. That nephew has siblings who are loving and accepting, who don’t see it as their role in the world to point out everyone else’s “sins.”
Siblings. Why are some loving while others grow up with hate? Why do some choose to be respectful of the person, even if they disagree with the opinion, while others feel that it’s their right and duty to disagree in the most tactless or deliberately hurtful ways?
Those who are habitually disrespectful seem to take one of two defenses. Either you misinterpreted what they said, or they have the right to say it and if you’re hurt, it’s your fault. Either way, they are blameless in their own eyes. Defending yourself doesn’t teach them, as I found out with the woman who used to be my sister. After I defended myself against years of her disrespect, she shut me out of her life. While that has been a blessing, the amazing thing is that she sent Jim an email urging him to take me to a psychiatrist for my “paranoia disorder.” I guess standing up for myself was seen as paranoia by her. Weeds…
You can’t teach people things they don’t want to know. It doesn’t matter how reasoned your arguments are, or how correct your facts, or how lovingly you present yourself. People who are filled with negativity cling to that, and they are unmoved. The only ones who can pull the weeds and cultivate more love are the same ones whose hearts are weedy.
I’m tired of hate. I am tired of family discord. I am tired of weeds growing where love should grow. I’m tired of the regular upsets created by the toxins of particular family members. To the extent I can, I avoid them, but that doesn’t prevent a spillover effect.
For me, I choose to tend my garden. Where I can, I will cultivate an attitude of love. I choose love.
The view on one daughter’s Facebook wall today…
Being a mother is like trying to juggle 15 balls at once. Flaming balls. While someone throws marbles at you. And you are on a unicycle blindfolded in a rainstorm. And there are 5 people talking to you all at once then getting mad because you didn’t answer and clearly didn’t listen. And they want to know if you were a superhero and could fly over hot lava would your cape catch on fire and who built the first yurt and how long would you live if you had no eyeballs. And the math. Sweet Jesus. The math. It all sounds like: if Tom has 7 oranges and Paul has 13 triangles, how long would it take Susie to travel West 3.5 miles if she is wearing a green shirt? Explain how you got your answer. And then when you get mad at them for a sassy comment they say “God wants you to calm down.” And how can you argue with that?!?! Then 5 minutes later they tell you you are the best mommy ever and they love you more than the whole wide universe to infinity and beyond. And your heart melts and you think…can I remember this moment forever? The way they smile at you like you have all the answers and how their sweet faces look when they sleep. And even though you have fallen asleep in every movie you have tried to watch for the last 10 years you realize how blessed and thankful you are to wake up and do it all over again. This crazy, loud, amazing life. I can’t get enough.
And this on other daughter’s wall another day…
I love when God decides to show off a little. When He subtly nudges me and reminds me that He is way ahead of me – and he has totally GOT this. I especially like it when this occurs at a time when I am not so self-absorbed that I miss it. Today was what I call a “Hindenburg Day”. It was a day when nothing went as expected – and there were casualties. It started off with me turning the dryer on WITH THE CAT IN IT, and ended with my son telling me I should try to be nicer tomorrow. I began counting down the hours ’till bedtime right after lunch, and I limped across the finish line tonight and fell into my bed feeling pretty much like an epic failure who is systematically destroying my children’s lives and futures – just by breathing. I spent a few minutes fantasizing about flying off alone to an unpopulated tropical island with a suitcase of books and a carry-on full of chocolate. Then I opened a book I’ve been reading and the VERY FIRST words I read were these
You are stronger than you know.
You are loved more than you realize.
You are part of a greater plan, and nothing can stop God’s purposes for you.
You’re going to be okay.
I promise. But more importantly: God promises.
Take heart, friend. Good things are ahead.So, I guess…as my dear friend, Lemuel would say…”‘Nuff said.”
The title is a status update I posted in Facebook a few days ago. Since you bothered to pop in to read (thank you, by the way!), perhaps you wonder what was so interesting about me before, or why I am not interesting anymore.
In truth, I’m just about as interesting in person as I ever was, but my online presence has changed. Facebook itself is part of that. Admit it, it is not a good venue for revealing interesting parts of oneself. Facebook asks the question, “What’s on your mind?” instead of “How are you?” But no one really wants to know either. Most people just don’t want to know what you really think, or how you really are. They’re more comfortable with funny video links, or songs, or shared inspirational posters.
Indeed, the most innocuous subjects or comments can create offense, so most people I know avoid even those. I’ve seen it hundreds of times. I’ve offended others with innocuous comments, myself! I’ve also seen bullying, threats, shaming, attempts to ruin reputations, petty fights… and I’ve seen all that between family members. So much for using Facebook as a forum to become closer. It certainly can work that way, but it does not always.
This kind of crap doesn’t really go away in my Facebook world, even though I’ve very deliberately kept my “friends” list very short. All it takes is someone looking to be offended who reads someone else’s thread, and off we go!
The easiest way to avoid that kind of drama is to stick with what people want: pictures of kitties and puppies and babies, recipes, links to videos, and the like. I censor myself more all the time. And in shifting in this direction, revealing less about how I think, I provide a very boring face to the Facebook world. I even bore myself.
In addition, over the last year or so, my focus for writing has shifted to Catbird Quilt Studio. My life is very simple, and I do spend much of my discretionary time on my quilts. This fact, also, may make me seem very narrow and dull.
In fact, however, I think about a lot of different things. I just don’t say much about most of it.
When Jim and I started this blog, it was to create a venue where we could talk about anything we wanted. We wanted no undue censorship, other than that we would provide through our own natural decency. The title of the blog is broad to include the broad range of subjects we study and think about. But recently neither of us has spent a lot of time focused on Our View.
Well, I have a few things to say. And though I won’t be the arbiter of whether I am, or just used to be, “interesting,” I look forward to expressing some parts of me that I’ve censored too much for too long.
The main point of this post is how digital technology today allows us to take virtual trips to a vast number of places. It is almost like being there. But, being there in person is the truest way to experience the world. Travel for real if you are able.
My maternal ancestors include the Kelly and Huston lines from central Ireland. In June of 2011, Melanie and I went to Ireland for a vacation. We started in Dublin, then took the train to central Ireland to find my ancestral homeland. I wanted to see it with my own eyes and walk where they walked. We spent the night in Athlone. Next day, the train took us to Galway where we stayed for six more. What a wonderful place.
The Kelly and Huston families lived where the counties Meath and Westmeath border just north of Delvin. My great-grandmother was born there in 1838. She, her eight sisters, and her parents all came to America. A relative showed me a link to deed maps of the mid-1800s for that area. We found two parcels of land which her family apparently owned and farmed. This map marks close to the two parcels.
We rode the train from Dublin to Mullingar. There, were spoke with a cabbie, Mick. We asked him if he would take us out of town just northeast of Delvin. He made a call to his boss and then said he would be happy to do it. Mick was a local and knew the area well. He enjoyed the chance to get out of town for a change. He talked a lot and told some good stories.
My daughters joined me to visit teaching colleagues on July 2, 1979. They had some sparklers in preparation for the July 4th celebrations. Of course, the girls wanted to play with them. It was getting dark as evening neared. The camera needed a longer shutter speed of a half second or more. The pictures turned out much better than I expected. Sparks flew and burst into small branches before dying out. What fun we had.
In 1985, the Chicago Tribune Magazine ran a photo contest. People were invited to submit photographs with the theme ‘Lines‘. These two pictures came to mind from six years before. I submitted this top photograph in the color category. In October I got a big envelope in the mail from the Tribune with a framed certificate inside. I won second place and $250.
Fast forward to today. These beautiful daughters have children of their own. Some are the same ages as in these photographs. Much has changed in our lives. A few things are the same. I hope they will be able to look back a generation or more and see some of the lines that connect their past to what came about later. I hope they will be lines full of happiness and not much sadness.
Our View From Iowa 