A Picture Can Create a Memory or Two

My brothers and I spent Thanksgiving day at home. When we left that afternoon, we stopped by Paul Cemetery to visit Mom.Since I had my iPad with me, I decided to take some pictures. Before I got to the grave, I shot this picture of brothers paying their respects to our mom.This afternoon, I was thinking of this picture and remembered something I saw during my childhood. Not sure if I was in junior high or not.
I was looking out the window one day when I saw what I thought was a funeral taking place in the corral. All the sheep and another cow in standing in line in one row. In front of them was a dead cow with his feet facing those who were paying their respects. Maybe those animals had seen my siblings and me perform funerals for our cats and dogs who passed on. And then, I wondered now if I really saw what I did. It has been a few decades since this happen and I never bothered to write it down, but I think I remembered telling one of my siblings. But whether it really happened; I do get a smile when I think about it. Farm animals have funerals?

50 Years

50 years ago, John F. Kennedy was shot in Dallas, Texas. Unlike most people alive that day, I can’t recall where I was or what I was doing. I was only 5 years old at the time. My family must have talked about it, because I knew it had happened. All remember is that my brother, Steven and I were playing once. I was President Kennedy and he was Lee Harvey Oswald. I didn't want to die, so I hid under a bed sheet and Steven pointed a finger or toy gun at me. I remember Steven telling me that sheet was no protection against a gun.

Although, it’s been 50 years, I still find that John F. Kennedy has an impact on me. Maybe it is because I share a birthday with him. But then I share a birthday with Bob Hope and that impact isn't there. Most of my family (extended and immediate) is hard core Republican. So why do I check out most of the stories about Jack Kennedy and sometimes his family? I think that maybe as a child I was touched by the tragedy. And maybe his sudden death had an impact on me.

Kodak Moment with The Pie

On Friday of this week, the office called in an order to The Pie Pizzeria, more commonly known as The Pie.  When our delivery arrived, someone commented how big the box was. We ordered the giant size combo pizza. The comment reminded of my last year at Blue Cross.

The division I worked in at that time was training our replacements who were from Portland, Oregon. While they were in Salt Lake, they would ask for recommendations of good restaurants. I told them about The Pie, which had a new location in Midvale, which was not far from workplace. I had enjoyed pizza from The Pie when I was a student at the University of Utah. One day to show their appreciation, they ordered pizza from The Pie to be delivered to the office. When we walked into the conference room, our eyes popped wide open. Those giant size pizzas were huge! One of women from Portland commented that she wished she had a camera because it was a Kodak moment.

And so when I saw the giant box from The Pie, I had to take a picture. It was a Kodak moment I didn’t want to pass up.

The Joys of Sisterhood (or the joke’s on me)

My oldest sister, Mary took German while she was in high school, which was one of the three foreign languages taught at Minico.  Once after she told me to say “Ich bin krank”, I asked her what it meant. She said it meant that my sister was sick. So being the smarty pants I thought I was; I taunted my younger with the phrase “Ich bin krank.”  Laura, being the youngest of us all, took a lot a grief from us. When I got to high school, I decided to follow Mary’s example and take German. Ja! (Spanish, not German.) Within the first month, I discovered that I had been telling Laura that estuve enfermo. Mary!

Translations from Google

Ich bin krank = I am sick (German to English)

Ja! = Yes! (German to English)

Ja! = Ha! (Spanish to English)

Estuve enfermo = I was sick (Spanish to English)

What I learned on Criminal Minds This Past Week

Most Wednesday nights will find me in front of the TV, watching Criminal Minds. Since it was Halloween, it involved a crazed witch hunter. But Criminal Minds also focused on a lesser known holiday – Day of the Dead. Penelope Garcia, a computer geek, who usually stays back in Washington while the BAU (Behavorial Analysis Unit)team goes out into the field, has the team over for a Day of Dead celebration. All the team members have lost a loved one and one by one, the team puts a picture of a loved one on an altar that Garcia had.

On Friday, I was passing through the the University of Utah Union building and I noticed a display of dressed up skeletons on a table; probably Catrinas. That tweaked my interest even more. I had heard of Day of the Dead before, but until Criminal Minds portrayed the event, I paid little attention to it. So I looked up Day of the Dead on Wikipedia, a online encyclopedia. I learned that the holiday has roots in Mexico and it also celebrated in other cultures.

When Jay called from Idaho this weekend, I asked him if he had stopped to the cemetery. Since he hadn’t, I told him a bit about Day of the Dead. The Magic Valley in Idaho has a noticeable Mexican culture, so I figured that cemeteries in the valley would be visited this weekend. When he got to the cemetery, he called and told me that there were some decorations up. He did mention pumpkins on some of the graves. I don’t think all the decorations were for the Day of the Dead.

Although the holiday is over, I thought of who I would have honored on this Day of the Dead. My thoughts turned to my family, just like Garcia did in Criminal Minds. I thought of my parents, but I settled on my cousin, Edward Jackson. He died while I was still in junior high (middle school). I had lost other relatives, but he was first relative that I knew who died. When his family lived in Idaho, our families would visit each other often. Often we would pair up with the cousin who was closest to our age. Lou Jane and I would play with each other and Mary and Emmalee would do the same. Although Edward was the oldest, he would hang out with John, who was Emmalee’s age; while Mike, the oldest child in our family would hang out with Bryant, who was just younger than Mary. Edward and Mike attended Ricks College (now BYU-Idaho) at the same time. One weekend Edward came home with Mike and they hung together. Without his family, I noticed a different side of Edward. He just seemed a bit quieter. He spoke to me like I was a teen-ager instead of a child.  That weekend was the last time I saw Edward. A year later, he was killed in accident in Southern Colorado. I still miss Edward forty plus years later. If I were to visit his grave this year in Manassa, Colorado, I would leave a Dove dark chocolate bar and say thanks for being kind to me that weekend. And then, I would go say Hi to my dad. It’s been awhile since I visited him.