Memorial Day

Memorial Day was first observed sometime in the 19^th century as a way to honor Union soldiers who had perished in the Civil War. It eventually came to be a day of observance for all those who died serving our country; I hope that includes the Confederate soldiers who died serving a nation that was temporarily divided.  In 1971, it was moved to the last Monday in May. It was until recently I noticed that Memorial Day was for those who died serving our country or died in the line of duty.

My first impression of Memorial Day was 1^st unofficial day of summer. In Minidoka County, school got out just before Memorial Day. I really didn’t know why Memorial Day was celebrated; I just knew it was a holiday. Our family didn’t visit the cemetery in Paul or any other city in the Mini-Cassia area. Mom prepared a picnic and we ate on the front lawn as we swatted and slapped away the flies who thought the feast was for them. After a few years in Salt Lake, I would hear people talk about leaving flowers on graves of family members on Memorial Day. I think I always knew that Memorial Day was day of remembrance, because I wasn’t surprised that visiting graves was an activity for this holiday.  Somewhere in my subconscious, my mother or one of my teachers told me what Memorial Day really was.  It wasn’t the1^st Official Day of Summer Vacation and isn’t National BBQ & Picnic Day.

I can’t think of anyone in my family, including extended family members who died while serving their country. My dad served in Alaska during World War II. His name is on a monument along a highway in Conejos County in Colorado. When my dad died, my cousin, Bryant showed up in his Marine uniform. Bryant’s brother, William also served in the military.  Bryant’s daughter, Courtney is active duty somewhere in the world. Quite a few of my high school classmates have served in the military. Uncle Charley and Great-Grandma Boice were the first relatives I remember passing on. My parents didn’t go to my mom’s grandma’s funeral, but they did go to Uncle Charley. I don’t really remember much of them and I am not sure if I had met them.  We lived in Idaho and they lived in Colorado and New Mexico. Gas wasn’t cheap then either and farming left no time for vacations.

The first relative’s passing that had an affect on me was my cousin, Edward, Bryant’s older brother. For a time, Edward and Bryant’s family lived in Blackfoot and we would visit when time allowed. A few months before Edward died; he came home from Ricks College with my brother, Mike. I saw a quieter version of my cousin. He was kind and thoughtful. This was the last time I saw him. So on this Memorial Day, I remember him and yes, I miss him. Edward was a good man. Since Edward; there have been others, my dad, my mom’s parents, some uncles and aunts, even another cousin.  My mom’s siblings are still living, but my dad’s siblings are gone, except for my Aunt Wilma, who married a Jackson. Each has touched my life. Uncle Herb was kind and taught me thru his example of how thoughtful and resourceful Japanese people are. My Aunt Isabelle was charitable person.  She opened her home to my mom’s sibling when my Grandpa Boice died.  Jackson’s are just like that. I miss Paul, even though I only met him as a child. He is teaching me understanding and to be non judgmental of others now.

So this Memorial Day, I remember those who have passed on, even if they didn’t serve in the military. They deserve recognition on this day.

Skylar & Applesauce

When my nephew, Skylar was 18 months old, Jay and I spent the week in Western Washington babysitting him and his brothers, while their parents were on a cruise somewhere nice and warm.  Laura had applesauce in the cupboard, which was one of my favorite breakfast foods. One morning I was holding Skylar in my lap while I ate my breakfast. I gave a spoonful to Skylar and then I took another spoonful. I might have given Skylar a few more spoonfuls. The next morning I did the same, but I had to give more to Skylar. Apparently he was to have every other spoonful. If I took a spoonful out of turn he let me know in no uncertain terms that I was out of line. When Laura and Bill got home from their cruise, I had to them that their baby was addicted to applesauce. Never let your sister babysit your wee one for a extended time. (see earlier post - Oh Peas No)

Return to Honor

On Friday when I was helping out at the Race for the Cure, I stopped by the Merchandise Booth, since I knew I would want to do some shopping.  I noticed the “Co-survivor pin” and I thought of my niece, Tracina. If anyone deserves that pin, it is her.  When my sister, her mom, Mary got breast cancer almost seven years, Tracina was there for her. Tracina just had her second daughter, Isabella at the end of March. My niece, along with other family members, was there at the hospital when Mary had her surgery to remove the cancerous tumor. Tracina helped take care of her parents and her siblings that October.  Quite a few pictures were taken during the time, but the one that says it the most (for me) is the one where Tracina is washing her mother’s hair. Because of the surgery, my sister could not lift her arms. What a wonderful way to honor her mother; to return the kind acts of service rendered in her behalf as she grew up.

A Mother's Heart

This morning I logged on to Facebook, I saw my friend, Jeannie’s post that made me pause when she wrote “Whether you have given birth, adopted, nuture the neighborhood children, are a step mom....if you have a Mother's Heart you are a Mother.” I thanked her for posting this, because it reminded me of my Aunt Gladys, who never had the chance to be a mother, but has loved and cared for her neices and nephews. This post prompted me to post something on my wall or timeline. ”To all the Aunties out there. Happy Mother's Day. I'm fortunate to have had my Aunt Gladys who never got the chance to raise a child of her own, but always looks after her nieces and nephews. She thinks of us in our times of need. She is there for us even when our moms are there for us too. Thanks for setting example of great aunthood, Gladys.”

Like Jeannie said Aunt Gladys has a Mother’s Heart. When Jay and I were buying our condo, she gave us words of wisdom. Aunt Gladys encourages us to do temple work by sharing her research with her neices and nephews. She was heart broken when our cousin, Paul suddenly died this spring. Aunt Gladys makes an effort to keep in touch with all (I hope) nephews and nieces. My brothers and I usually get a Christmas gift from her. I doubt we are the only ones who are remember at Christmas. We are the children she shares with our parents. Her example has taught me how to reach to my neices and nephews. Aunt Gladys lets me know that Mother’s Day isn’t just for Mothers who raised children, but all women who have cared for the children who have passed thru their lives. As Jeannie said “....if you have a Mother's Heart you are a Mother.”
*The picture is the brownie that all the woman in my ward got today. I believe that most women have a Mother's Heart* 

Crystal & Race for the Cure

In 2004, Crystal walked her first Race For The Cure. She walked for her Grandma Bee, who was a survivor.  When I told her brother, David that she was walking her 1^st 5K at the tender age of nine (she was actually two shy of being ten), he told me that I would have to carry her across the finish, if not most of the race. I picked up the t-shirts and bibs before the race. Crystal spent the night before the race at my condo and early the next morning we rode Trax. When we got to the Gateway, Crystal filled out her “I race in celebration of” and then had me pin her bib and card on the back of her t-shirt. She was walking for her Grandma Bee. I wore my bib in front and my cards in the back.  I was walking for Crystal’s Grandma too and my cousin’s neighbor who had been recently diagnosed with cancer. I was also walking in memory of Dixie Crystal, who was the reason I started walking the Race for the Cure years before.  About the time Dixie died of breast cancer, I got a pamphlet in the mail inviting to race in the Susan G. Komen (probably because I done the Salt Lake Classic).  Even though I didn’t wear a card at that time, I walked in her memory. Dixie was a teacher aid in high school and we grew up in the same ward. During the race I had Crystal call Grandma Bee on my cellphone and when we crossed the finish line, I had Crystal call David to tell him of her accomplishment.  Even when we got home, Mark, another brother, couldn’t believe she walked the whole 3.1 miles in less than an hour. I like to think that Grandma Bee got Crystal to the finish line, but then Crystal is no quitter. Besides, she had to prove all of her brothers wrong.

Crystal and I walked again the next year, but we didn’t walk together again until two years after that.  In 2007, Crystal not walked for Grandma Bee, but her Mom also. I walked for my sister, who just either finishing or just finished cancer treatments. When Crystal found her Mom was a survivor, she was bent and determined to run the Race for the Cure, but since Mom and most of her sisters were walking, Crystal had to walk the whole 5K. 

Due to a busy life, that was Crystal’s last Race for the Cure. She has since ran a few Salt Lake Half-Marathons and a few other races. But if she ever decides to do the Salt Lake Race for the Cure, I doubt her brothers will question her ability to run the whole 3.1 miles. After all she endured 13 miles.

Volunteering at the Race for the Cure

Today, I volunteered again for the Race for the Cure in downtown Salt Lake.  This year it moved to

Library Square

because it outgrew the Gateway, where it had been the last year. As I ate breakfast at McDonald’s in the City Creek Center, I thought about what got me started in as a race volunteer.  My first experience as a race volunteer was the Salt Lake Classic in Liberty Park. I was employed at Blue Cross Blue Shield of Utah and decided to get involved after hearing a ward member tell me what a good time she had when her family helped out a race that Blue Cross sponsored. Her dad worked in marketing at the time. Volunteering led to helping out at the Olympics in 2002 and eventually the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. I started volunteering at the RFTC after I started working for the University of Utah. By then the Salt Lake Classic was a thing of the past and I was looking for some service to do. Cheering on the marathon runners during the Salt Lake Marathon just wasn’t enough.

When I volunteered for the Salt Lake Classic, I usually worked in the refreshment area or the finish line, but when I walked the race, I either helped out with registration or pre-race activities. One year I helped out with post activity race. I stopped volunteering for the Classic when Blue Cross decided to help with the RFTC. But I never signed up for Team Regence (Blue Cross became Regence Blue Cross Blue Shield of Utah in the late nineties.) because volunteering met working during the race. My volunteering for the race involved raising funds for the Race for the Cure. When I started volunteering my time to RFTC, I worked in Team Packet pickup and the next week in registration. Then I became a regular in t-shirt pick up.

For the first time volunteering, I had to have a background check. Not because the venue had changed, but because I worked in Donations. There were only two of us working under a sign that read “Registration” and we both had to wear hot pink plastic paper bracelets, signifying we were okay to handle money. Our tent wasn’t set up due the rental company being late in delivering the tents, table and such. We never got our chairs, but I still had good time.

When I got done, I did the usual shopping for RFTC merchandise. I enjoy giving little things to my nieces who are related to survivors. Most of my nieces have participated in a Race for the Cure, even Bella, who rode in her stroller the whole 3.1 miles as very young toddler.

The Year I Grew

On December 26, 1979 I experienced a moment that defined the coming year. And yeah, my life hasn't been the same since.  My younger sister, Laura and I were involved in a car accident on State Street in downtown Salt Lake City. It was my fault, but lucky for all involved we all walked away basically unharmed. My car spent a month in body shop at Rick Warner in downtown Salt Lake City.
Soon after getting my car back, my dad died. Yes, it sucked losing my dad at 21 years of age. and I still miss him. But he is okay and I am basically okay too. 
A month later, I had another accident as I was driving home to Idaho. It spent another month in a body shop in the Mini-Cassia area. When I got the car back, I lost my job at Rick Warner. Yeah, that really sucked too. I got two weeks severance pay and a week’s worth of unemployment pay, which is a lot less than a week's worth of regular pay. I found another within the month, but I took a cut in pay. At least my new paycheck was more than what my unemployment check was. I did meet people in that job that I would not have met otherwise, so I did have doors of opportunities that opened for me. Somewhere in the drama of the changing career event, I found out my Grandma Boice had brain cancer. My mom went to LaJara, Colorado to take care of her parents. While she was there, my brother Mike took care of Jay and Laura, who were middle school age. Over the July 24th weekend of 1980, Mike drove his younger siblings and me to Colorado (but not Mary, who was raising a family in Washington state and Steven, who was on a mission.) We visited with my Mom and some of her family. It was sad to see my Grandma. She couldn't talk, but she could understand us. She had no hair. Before labor day, we all said good bye to Grandma. It had to be hard on my mom losing her husband and her mom in a six month period. I think she drew on the strength her mother taught by example.
When I was driving home from Christmas 1980, I heard Barry Manilow on the radio singing "I made it thru the rain" and it hit me. I made it thru a difficult year. I grew in unexpected ways. I had experienced trials before like death of a cousin, uncles and a neighbor before that awful year, but not this closely related. Looking back at that year, I realized at 22 years of age that I didn't want to go back to the life before December 26, 1979. Life before had it challenges, but none that had strengthen me like 1980 had. I learned what having faith was. And I am still learning about faith.
Now in 2012, I look back and I cry for the young adult who had to experience that difficult year. It wasn't fair, but that if life; it throws foul balls at the spectators. But I also look back at that young adult self and I realize I wasn't alone. My family, my friends, my church were supporting me in my time of need. I could not have faced that year without their love and support. I knew God was watching over me and loved me. Jesus had and still does wrap his arms around me. I have been blessed with a strength to carry on. My dad loves me still and so do my grandparents. There is hope in the midst of life's storms. (Sometimes the foul balls aren't that bad. A younger Jared got to keep one that hit him. The guy behind Jared thought it was only fair that he did and Jared thought it was awesome that he brought home that baseball.)

Finally did it

On March 22, 2012, City Creek Mall opened to great fan fare.  I finally got to the new mall two weeks later, which a week before my brother’s birthday and a day before Easter. I had to go to Deseret Book to get Jay’s present, a DVD.  I had wanted to get “17 Miracles” for Christmas, but when the stake president came out with the reading list for 2012, I decided to get Jay one of the recommended books. I rode Trax, but instead of getting off at City Center, like I did yesterday, I got off at the

Temple Square

station. I wanted to see the Western half of the new mall before I went inside it.  After I made my purchases at Deseret Book, which had opened sometime in 2009 or 2010, I started my tour of City Creek. Up I went on the escalator and walked across the new skywalk that crossed

Main Street

. I seen a few times during its construction as I rode Trax. After I walked thru the skywalk, I went back because the line at Kneaders was too long. (As of yesterday, it is still starts outside the south doors of the restaurant.) I went back the Nordstrom’s (western) side of the mall, visited Rocky Mountain Chocolate and bought something, then I checked out Blue Lemon, which directly across from Deseret Book. I had eaten twice before and was surprised that it was crowded too. (It still had a long line yesterday, but at least it wasn’t out the door.) So I decided to eat at the

Food Court

on the Macey’s (eastern) side of City Creek. To my delight, Chick-fil-A was opened for business. Finally there were more options than McDonald’s. It was crowded at the

Food Court

, but I was too hungry to care. When I left the

Food Court

, I exited the way I had before; heading for the exit on South Temple and State.  Then I crossed the street and went shopping at Harmon’s, which opened a month or two before City Creek did. I bought some Easter candy and a few others things. After Harmon’s, crossed the street at 100 South and State, walked up the street and entered City Creek at

State Street

. Years before I would enter the ZCMI mall at

State Street

in about the same location.  Except this time, I was still outside instead of inside.  I walked thru the mall and when I crossed

Main Street

to get to Trax, I had a sense of deja vue. Years ago as a college student, I would cross from ZCMI center to the Crossroads Mall at this same spot.  I got the same deja vue yesterday as I waited for the light to change. It was like I was back in the 80’s again.

It will be awhile before I eat again at City Creek.  Yesterday, I boarded Trax, transferred at Courthouse and caught the Red Line to Café Zupas. It was less crowded and so worth the ride there to have my BBQ pulled pork and Mango Berry salad. Heaven! I will that Mango Berry salad again.

 

The Great Utah Shakeout or The Largest Earthquake Drill The State of Utah Has Experienced

Weeks before last Tuesday, I was informed that there would be an earthquake drill. Every building on campus had the maps posted at all their exits.  A few days before the drill, the bookstore put up notice that they would be closed between the hours of 10:15 am to 11:30am on April 17^th.  My boss, Lisa conducted meetings with those in office the day before. We saw a depressing video that left me with no hope of surviving the real thing. It said thousands would die and life as we knew it would be over. Highways and such would be in chaos and buildings would all be leveled.  Lisa did show some other videos, one which was the earthquake that my Steven experienced. It was more informative than the death wish video that someone in Utah put together. I enjoyed the video of the fireman who demonstrated how to get under a table and hold on.  The narrator had to tell him to get completely under the table.  Oops.  Penny, who was raised in Southern California, told us that the longest quake she was in only lasted 42 seconds or less than a minute.

Tuesday morning arrived and so did the talk.  A few joked about a real earthquake happening just before or at the time of the drill. The nervous chit chat increased as the time grew shorter. I got out my iPad and earplugs so I wouldn’t have to listen to their ramblings during the drill; I did not care to listen to that again.  I was in an earthquake drill at Blue Cross and one woman could not quit yakking.  Granted we were under our desks for 15 minutes.  I decided right then that if an earthquake happen, I wouldn’t get under my desk; I just get myself out of her misery.

At 10:15, a text arrived to cell phone, informing me to get under my desk. So under I went, but I sat instead of rolling up like a ball.  I am too tall to sit under my desk; I would have to take out a few ribs or my neck to fit under there.  I did turn on my iPod on my iPad and listened to some song. I could hear people leaving, so I texted Karie in St. George and told her two individuals didn’t shut up the entire time. I put my iPad in my bag and put on my jacket, then I wore my cross pack. I was quite surprised that my neck wasn’t sore, but if I had been under my desk like I had in the first drill, my neck would have been sore.  Next time, I am not taking the time to wear earphones; I will do my best to ignore the loudmouths or laugh at their nervous chitchat. Maybe I will get lucky and they will be put out of their misery.

I was the last one out of the office. Pat and Lisa walked me out.  I had to text Karie and that is why I was last. Next time, not gonna happen.  We met up at the appointed spot on the lawn on the corner of 2^nd & University or the lawn in front of Big Ed’s. When I got there, I noticed that not all of the office was there, so I went looking for them.  While I was searching, I ran into Jen, who used to work in our office and I picked up a 1^st aid kit from the tent that was set up.  In my 1^st aid kit (or was it a 72 hour kit?) were band-aids, ointment, toothbrush, toothpaste, a bottle of water and a granola bar in a Campus Store plastic bag. I stuffed it in my bag and forgot to take it out, so it went home with me.  I brought it back the next day and added an overnight pad for young women.  Hey, I’ve been told those things belong in a 1^st aid kit. The next day after I decided it would be a take home ER kit, I added deodorant, small package of tissues, and lotion.  Since I had gum in my desk drawer, I threw that in the kit too. My ER kit or “Hoofin’ like a New Yorker” kit is now hanging on a coat hook by the trash basket under my desk. I still have to walk on glass to get to my purse and bag. If my lunch is in the frig, I will probably forget to grab it, but then maybe not.  It could be on the way out to the evacuation spot by Big Ed’s.  That is if the frig isn’t blocking the exit.

Oh, by the way, I texted my out of state contact (my oldest sister) that we had an earthquake drill and I was fine.  I didn’t know that living apart that from my family would provide me with so many contacts out of state. That prep was probably the easiest prep of the whole drill.