My Thanksgiving Post 2014

On the first Sunday of November, the Bishop bore his testimony. He spoke of gratitude as an attitude. It is more than being grateful for things. As I thought about what he said I thought how gratitude is thinking of others in a thoughtful way. The attitude of gratitude is noticing the good or searching for the good in life or our trials. It is also being glad for someone when something good happens, especially when the something good isn't happening for us. But I do believe that counting our blessings helps us to have an attitude of gratitude.

And probably realizing as Lou Gehrig did, we always have something to be grateful for. There is always something good going on in our life. As November continued, I found this to be true in my life also. Life hasn't gone as planed and I've had my share of burps, but I have been greatly bless through out my life. It is during the hard times that I have felt the love of my Savior the most. And have noticed the good shining through the stormy clouds.

Reading Bewteen The Lines

"For those who like to read between the lines; there are no words between the lines."

I don't know what inspired me to write this on my iPad. Maybe it was a acquaintance who took my actions out of context, but it could have been some politician or news commentary. When I started creating memes, this musing was one of the first I did. I decided to save it for upcoming election year, because people have a tendency to read between the lines when it comes to politics. 

What prompted this post involved what I posted on Facebook recently. I had wrote that I faced a fear. And someone assumed that I had a very traumatic and horrific experience. Sorry, but I was offended. And it hurt. Although I faced a fear, it was not that traumatic of an experience. I just a little bit freaked or uncomfortable at the reminders I experienced that day. When this person read between the lines, it did more harm than good, but I realize this person meant well and the actions were unintentional.
Reading between the lines is like leaping before you look. Judgement is being passed before the facts are known or without knowing all the facts. No one pulls onto the road before stopping and looking both ways. Assumptions are made easier when we read between the lines, maybe that is why we sometimes don't stop first and then assess before the words are out.

It is tempting to read between the lines as we try to make sense of something that has us confused, especially if it involves conflict. There were probably quite a few Utahans doing that last December when Judge Shelby ruled against Amendment 3. Why would a judge in Utah do that? Rumor had the man had a partner. He does and it is his wife. Some times in our haste to make sense of something that is confusing, we become impatient in our quest and share on social media the first thing that makes sense. And it isn't always the truth. Maybe to us it is the truth, but to others it might not be.

And I have found that to be the case from time to time. What made sense to me wasn't always the truth. There have been times when I was glad I withheld judgement because I realized what I thought was reading between the lines; what I wanted to say was better left unsaid. 

December 5th

It took more than a week to write the above and then after I published it, I wasn't ready to share it. I experienced some stress right after I published this and because of someone read between the lines, I was hesitant to post my concerns on Facebook. I wanted the prayers, but felt uneasy about posting anything on Facebook for fear that someone would read between the lines again. I did share my concerns with my sisters, all six of them. My sisters and three others formed my support team.

I also felt uneasy about sharing this on Facebook. I know the person who read between the lines meant well and I really did not want to cause this person any more guilt, so I delayed sharing this post,

I realize we all read between the lines. I do. I just hope that we (me included) can forgive ourselves when we do and hopefully pause before air our opinions. That is probably going to be hard in an election year. And yes, every year is an election year. Don't cities elect mayors in odd number years? And then there is always controversy. One does not have to look far to find something controversial to discuss. There is quite a bit of opportunity to read between the lines, so let's be slow in our judgments by listening first and to be willing to give the person the benefit of the doubt. And remember that our first impression may be a little off. Hey, we are all humans; none of us are prefect.

Just a little advice that one of my six sisters posted on Facebook a few years back. Not sure if it is a quote of hers or she got it from someone else, but I think she nailed when she posted this.

Day of the Dead Post 2

"I can't believe Kopper died :( I thought for sure he'd hold out until I got home. At least he feels good now, poor dog. I'm really going to miss that mutt, he made everyone feel loved and loved the cabin more than anyone else, besides Dad. Who is mom going to feed all the leftovers to?"

That is how I found out first about Kopper, from a sister missionary's weekly email. Not on Facebook, although I found out there a few moments later. Then a few days later I remembered that this weekend was Day of the Dead. And I thought why not honor Kopper. Dogs are more than pets in quite a few families and Kopper was no exception.

Kopper came to the Pugh's home shortly after Kip, their dog died. This puppy was copper colored, so it was natural that he was given the name "Kopper". 

Kopper had big paws to fill as Kip was a well beloved pet and family member of my adopted family. I'm convinced that Kip was one of Jared's best childhood friends. But years later, Kopper filled those paws well. As Crystal wrote, he made everyone feel they were loved. Even Jason, who commented after he came home from his mission, "I do not like that dog."

Jason came home to a new family pet, who was still a child and not an adult like Kip had been when Jason left on his mission. Kopper was high maintenance his first year. Not only did he chew on shoes, he enjoyed furniture. He even once chewed on one my sandals that I left unattended. If it wasn't for his guard dog abilities, Kopper probably would have  been put up for sale.

But Kopper grew up. As Crystal said, he loved the cabin. He was free to roam like a dog should. He also grew out. Most of the time when I would eat at the Pughs, Kopper would be at my side begging for food. Sometimes I would give him some of what I was eating. Kopper loved whatever (mostly meat) anyone would give him. Once after I had a procedure, Jewel brought me to her home. She fed me apple slices and some of the best chicken. But because I was so weak from the procedure, I could barely eat the apple slices. But Kopper was there by my side to help me eat most of chicken. He did his good deed for the day and didn't let the food go to waste.

But like my mom, Kopper grew old and slowed down in his old age. He lived a good long life. And like Crystal and Jared, he had a place in everyone's heart that knew him. Kopper has gone to heaven. I imagine he is sharing a few tall tales with Kip. But most of all, he is probably roaming free at the cabin and the neighborhoods he lived in. And he is probably still looking out for those he loved. Kopper touched hearts in his own way. Love ya, Kopper. We shall all meet again, you crazy and lovable dog

Remembering Mom

October 16, 2012

Kindness -pay it forward.  This is Tracina my niece being kind to my Mom just after Mom arrived in Washington. I'm pretty sure my Mom set that example for us to follow. And I wouldn't be surprised that my Dad did too. He was a kind soul too.


April 21, 2014

I look at my favorite picture of my mom. She isn't at her most beautiful; heck, she isn't even wearing her teeth and she has plastic tubing across her face. Before my mom got cancer, I doubt she would have allowed Mary to take a picture like that.
What I like most about the picture is her smile. She is happy, even though she is in the hospital fighting cancer. My older sister took the picture a week before she died, when she had a good weekend. Somehow that smile gave me hope that things would be fine.
That is why I keep it where I can look at it everyday. Sometimes I talk to the picture and my mom smiles at everything I say. My mom's smile gives me courage to face the trials; she is laughing when I can't believe my younger sister is a grandma and she listens. Granted it is only a picture, but the pictures tells me that my mom loves me still and the rest of my family too.


June 12, 2014

She is a young girl who grew up to be nice old lady. She had to grow old because there were so many hearts to touch. Because in her twilight years, there were great-grandchildren and neighbors who needed to know of her goodness.


June 14, 2014

My mom taught mostly by example, even though she may not have been aware that she was doing this. My grandpa was spending the summer with my mom when this picture was taken. My grandma had passed shortly after my dad passed and let's face it; he could no longer be on his own, so my mom and her siblings took turns taking care of him, until he was able to go to a care center in the Denver area. When my brother, Mike was no longer able to care of my mom on his own, my youngest sister, Laura came to help him. When my mom was diagnosed with cancer, Laura took Mom back to Washington state,where she could take better care of Mom.  It is true that what goes around comes around and in this case, it was a good thing.


June 24, 2014

This picture was taken soon after my mom arrived in Seattle. Steven, my brother flew into Seattle for the weekend. He had been vacationing with his family in St. George. Mary and Laura drove from Idaho (in Mom's car) so they could better provide for my mom. When the weekend was over, Steven drove Mom's car back to Salt Lake. The car has been a resident of Utah since then.

I included this scripture from Joshua, because Mom chose to be strong and of good courage. It had been a Young Women's theme a few years back and I sent my mom a plaque with those words. Taking care of Mike required being strong and being of good courage. 

In the picture, I see my mom's hand reaching for Steven's hand. Even though she was weary from a chemo treatment and traveling, she still cared about her children. Mom knew she wasn't going back to Idaho, but she chose to be grateful, which I think took courage and besides, she was a strong woman to begin with. Mom got this strength and courage from her mom and it helped her in her last days.

July 19, 2014

In 1988, Mom served a church service mission at the the Family History Library. She mostly worked in the Church Office Building east of Temple Square. Originally it was a 6 month service, which ended up being extended to 18 months. For the first six months (give or take a month) I lived with her. Then she moved closer to the Church Office Building and lived with Elizabeth for the remainder of her mission. She and Elizabeth became good friends. Mom even visited upstate New York where Elizabeth lived. Mom seemed to be the happiest while she was serving on her mission. She did enjoy serving and she enjoy doing genealogy work. Mom never did serve another mission because after she left, the church discontinued church service missions. If she wanted to go on another mission; it would have been a regular proselyting mission like John, Steven and Jay did. She would not have had a say in where she served. But she continued doing her family history and helped other do theirs. 

July 24, 2014

Shortly after my parents married, they were the parade marshals for the Pioneer Parade in Manassa, Colorado. When I saw this picture a few years ago, my mom said that my dad wasn't too thrilled about dressing up as Brigham Young. I guess fake beards aren't too comfortable. I don't which wife my mom was suppose to be, but she looks like she is happy to be apart of the parade. Maybe it is because she was honoring her ancestors who crossed the plains for a better life in the west.

July 26, 2014

They are together again. Sisters. I never knew my aunt Verla; she died of polio shortly after my parents were married. I am glad that my mom spoke of her and that my aunts did also. When my mom died, I kept thinking she was the first of her siblings to pass on, but then I remembered Verla. I think my grandma got to hug my mom first, because well, Grandma Boice is a mom. Or maybe it was my dad. You know how husbands are. But I am sure Verla was there along with other loved ones (like my dad's parents) to greet my mom. I am glad my mom had family there when she returned home. 

July 28, 2014

My mom and her sisters at the Vernal Temple. Mom loved going to the temple, especially if included family. She loved her sisters also (and her brothers, too). Mom was always looking out for them and other family members. Even her in-laws. I guess that is why I am accused of thinking of others, my mom set a good example for me to follow.

If you think that is more like a chapel (or church building) than a temple, well, the Vernal Temple used to be the Vernal Tabernacle.

August 17, 2014

Eleven years ago in September I went with my mom and her sister Gladys to Nauvoo, Illinois. We visited museums and such along the way and after we left Nauvoo. My mom was just glad to be along for the ride. The picture above was taken the morning we left Nauvoo for Missouri.

Before we left for the trip, I sent for brochures so I could scout out sites to see. In the brochure for Iowa, I saw something about the Goldenrod School and that it was the birthplace of 4-H. I had to visit this. Mom got some of her children involved in 4-H. Mary learned how to sew; I learned how to bake cookies, cakes, cook outdoor and fix sandwiches. Steven raised sheep for 4-H and he managed to learn to bake chocolate chip cookies. 

In the Nauvoo Visitors Center, there is garden honoring women. In it are several statutes of what women do. I took this picture because I like to learn; something my mom encouraged us to do. All seven of us children have had some post-secondary education. My parents paid for my education and probably my siblings also, which wasn't easy for them as my dad was a farmer. After I got my associate from Ricks College, I moved to Salt Lake. After four years or so of being in the workforce, I desired to return to school. I had problems saving up for tuition, so I asked my widowed mother for help. She was able to help out my first two or three quarters at University of Utah. I think it hurt her to tell me she couldn't help out anymore, even though I was expected to pay her back. Not wanting to quit, I turned to financial aid department to continue my education. Even though she couldn't help me financially for most of education at the U, she still supported me in my quest for a degree.

My mom loved to quilt. She made quilts for my sisters when they got married. She tied quite a few quilts as I was growing up. Mom even managed to make a few quilts for her grandchildren. I eventually did get a quilt of my own. Mom made a quilt for her sister, Maevonne when she got cancer. When Mom got cancer, Maevonne wished that she could have done the same.

I also chose this picture, because Aunt Gladys is helping Mom get around. I appreciate the example that Mom is setting. She was letting her sister be charitable. Mom knew that she couldn't do everything on her own. Sometimes we need help, even if it means swallowing our pride. Mom was being humble.

I think the highlight of visiting Nauvoo was the Fudge Factory. It was so good we went twice. I even sent my nephew, Isaac some fudge from there, because his birthday was the day we left Nauvoo. Mom had the blonde fudge, which she made for us quite a bit growing up. I had one of the chocolate fudges. (Mom also made chocolate fudge.) At the funeral, one of speakers spoke of Mom's love for chocolate. And I had no clue that she loved chocolate as much as I did. It was a pleasant surprise. This past Memorial Day, I bought my brothers a chocolate bar to enjoy while we visited her grave. I hope she didn't mind that we ate chocolate in front of her.

Haun's Mill is important in LDS Church History and my family history I share with my mom. Amanda Barnes Smith is one of our great-grandmas, who lost her first husband at Haun's Mill. I learned of Amanda from my mom and of course, church. Amanda was strong person and her legacy of strength carries on through generations of women who followed her, including my Grandma Boice and my mom. Slade Barnes woman persevere. 

This is the flag that flies at the Harry S. Truman Presidential Library in Independence, Missouri. While touring the library, I learned quite a bit about the events that happened while Mom was a young woman. Even though Mom was staunch Republican, she enjoyed visiting the library of a famous Democrat. I was glad for the example she set that day. Putting aside her difference.

The flag also reminds me how serious Mom took elections. She voted in the primaries and general elections. When I voted in my first primary elections, my mom was there guiding me. No, she didn't tell me how to vote, but she let me know how important it was.

And my mom served her country; not in the armed forces. She would help out neighbors when asked and she gave blood. Volunteering helps keep cost down and sometimes that keeps the taxes we pay less.

This is the Catholic Church in Victoria, Kansas. I am convinced it is as big as the Cathedral of the Madeline in Salt Lake City. This church is known as the Cathedral of the Plains, probably because one can see from the freeway long before the exit for Victoria. When I looked at this picture today, I was reminded of our neighbors who were Catholic and other faiths. Mom didn't let that stop her from be neighborly. Mom was kind to everyone.


September 1, 2014

A few years ago in August, I rode the Heber Valley Railroad with Mom, Mary and Debbie (Mary's childhood best friend). We had the opportunity of riding inside one of the cars or outside in open-air car. Mom opted for outside and stayed there the whole time. She didn't even venture to the dining car. It was a little stuffy inside; I only sat there long enough to have my picture taken. Besides being a little stuffy, the seats weren't that comfortable. Yeah, I don't blame my mom for sitting out in the open air car the whole time. And besides the view was much better.

As the train chugged toward Bridal Veil Falls, we learned that Mom had rode a similar train in Colorado when she grew up. She  also traveled by train from California to Colorado as a young adult; not sure if it was steam engine like the one pictured here. It could have been more like the modern day Amtrak that I rode in the 1980's. It was cool to learn more about Mom's younger days as she didn't talk much about those years while she was alive.

September 4, 2014

My niece, Tracina included this poem in a brochure that she made for Mom's funeral. The words comforted me then and still do. Mom had been suffering for most of the summer; she had been losing weight and plain just not feeling well. About a month before Mom died, she was diagnosed with stage four cancer. She fought the good fight and then God knew she needed rest and she was welcomed home. I miss Mom, but don't want to wish her back to fight that battle.

September 7, 2014

She was being of good cheer. Although I wouldn't be surprised that Marianna was getting rid of some wiggles. I don't think Mom minded that Marianna was trying to bring cheer to a somber crowd. We all need something to smile about and she, Bella and Cielo (Laura's new granddaughter) were doing that- each in their own way.

I like this picture because while Bella and Vanessa are being perfect for the camera, Grandma Jackson and Marinna are chatting away. I like to think that they are bonding; after all they share a name.

September 9, 2014

Jay is wearing a suit. Usually it is a shirt, tie and pants from the suit for church. I don't know about Steven, but John usually wears a suit to church. Maybe it was being a pallbearer that Jay wore a suit, but I also think that Jay was honoring Mom as he pulled his suit jacket outof the closet. All the pallbearers wore their best to show respect to Mom.

September 12, 2014 (a Friday) 

I discovered this quote at the end of a episode of "Criminal Minds". It had bit of a Halloween theme, but it also had a bit of "Day of the Dead" theme. 

I was at the airport that Friday, September 14th, when my sister, Mary called to tell me that Mom has passed. I did my best not to create a scene; but to stay collected. After all, who wants to see someone have a meltdown in such a public and crowded place. As I waited to board, I couldn't understand why I could not feel my dad's presence. I was able to sense his presence before in my times of need. I got a little ticked off at Dad. But then as I stood in line to board the plane, I felt my mom's presence. She was there to comfort me. I sensed her most of the flight, but not when I got to Seattle. I imagine she left me to comfort my brothers in their time of need. And besides, she knew I was in the company of my sisters and their families. 

Death may ended my parents' lives, but it hasn't ended my relationship with them. Everyday as I get ready for work or bed, I see my mom's picture of her smiling and I am comforted. She loves me still, just like my dad does.

My thoughts this year

I haven’t thought too much of 9/11 since the 10^th year anniversary. It has become another day. When I posted a blog in 2011, I planned on making it a yearly event. I did wear a pin on 9/11/12; it was one that got 10 years earlier. I did post something on Facebook last year, but the blog was forgotten. And then I saw a YouTube video that my nieces, Tracie and Tracina shared. I thought I’ve to do a 9/11 blog this year.

For years each September, I would remember 9/11. And then my mom got cancer. September became a time to remember her. Still each year, I knew it was 9/11. Last year I remembered to look for small acts of service. That is what happened 13 years ago- spontaneous acts of service in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania. I have decided to focus my attention there. I even manage to start a challenge on Facebook without meaning to do such.

But I am glad that my nieces shared the YouTube video of Eugene. I was reminded of what a kind person he was. He made breakfast for Tracina’s family when she got married. Although I don’t remember ever meeting Eugene, he touched my life thru the stories that others shared of him. As Mitch Albom said “Death ends a life, but not a relationship.” And this is true of Eugene. His relationships with others continue. Eugene may not have been a saint, but he was a kind, thoughtful person. And so each September 11^th, I will look for Spontaneous Acts of Service. And I will still remember my mom. Like Eugene, she thought of others too. Let’s remember all those who serve to make the world a better place, despite the evil that exist.

What was I thinking?!?

On Thursday, the 28th I did the Ice Bucket challenge for ASL. What was I thinking? I don't like participating in water fights and I'm not a fan of being in the spot light. I don't even like praying in church. So why did I do it?

It could be because I got caught up in the craze. I am reminded of the note a parent wrote the principal "Excuse Jane, she was following the crowd." I enjoyed watching the videos on Facebook, especially those of my friends. And then my boss got challenged by a friend of his. Joe went thru the office looking for victims among his Facebook friends. I'm not one of his Facebook friends, but he did get a co-worker, who is also one of my friends on Facebook to accept.
So as I searched for his video on my co-worker page and nothing. But while I was searching, I started noticing negative posts about the ALS challenge. One said that a very small piece of the pie went to research with the biggest piece going to the executives at the ALS organization. I had heard that argument shortly after 9-11 about United Way. Even the Red Cross got that accusation leveled at them. Most of what I saw posted on Facebook was positive. One post was a blog that a friend shared which was about a woman whose mother suffered from ALS. The woman mentioned that ice bucket challenges were making a difference. Those posts made me more determined to accept the challenge if I was nominated.
While I waiting to be challenged by my co-worker, I emailed and texted family and friends if they wanted to be challenged. I wanted to nominate my good friend and adopted niece, Crystal. Since she is on a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I asked some of her brothers if they would do it in her honor. Crystal would have jumped for a chance to get a ice cold dunk. I got only one response and it was "No way Jose". (BTW I did like the answer; it made me chuckle.)
On Monday, I got challenged by a former co-worker. I asked Jerry if I could nominate him, but he was doing it that night and I was waiting to do it later in the week. (On Sunday, I was challenged by a different co-worker who nominated close to twenty people, including the co-worker who waiting to be challenged by Joe.) I accepted and donated.
Originally, I wanted to do it Tuesday, but it was cloudy and I wasn't sure if my brothers would be home in time to video me before it got dark. My iPad doesn't have flash on it and pictures in the dark tend to have a grainy texture to them. And because I was getting cold feet about the being dunked and being videoed.
So Thursday came and I was determined to get it over and done with. Enough of the procrastination and being a scaredy cat. I promised myself that I was going to do and I gave my word to Jerry. Jay bought the ice and I gave John a crash course in videoing with my iPad. We had to do it twice because John hit "stop" when he thought he was doing "pause". There is no pause button on my iPad. Maybe on later updates there will be. But it was a good thing because I had more confidence in the second take. I remembered my niece's name and I remembered to call my cousin "Coach Jackson"
Glad it is over. I doubt I will do that again. What was I thinking?!?

I let it go

I ate a small bag of Bugles Friday at work. And they were surprising good. About twenty years ago when I lived at Cherry Hills, I discovered Bugles. I bought them quite a bit. I even taught little Jared how to put them on his fingers before he popped them into his mouth. And then I was evacuated (not evicted) from Cherry Hills one cold rainy July day. The roof of my building was being replaced and wham bam it leaked.   I quit drinking herbal tea, cold cereal and Bugles. Those were foods that I associated with a sad time in my life. Eventually, I learned to eat cold cereal again and the tea, well let's say I'm still working that. I just won't drink Celestial Seasoning or whatever brand I drank twenty years ago. But Friday on break, I saw a bag of Bugles and I thought why not. So bought them and took them back to my work station. Before the bag was gone, I took a picture of the bag and texted it to Jared, now a return missionary. He needed to know that I let go of that association. Maybe if he slows down, he will show his nephews or nieces how to eat Bugles the right way.

Or maybe Jared will share some with his younger sister when she comes home from her mission. She seems to be liking the Bugles that I bought.

Moving On Without Dad

My dad died when I was 21. I was still growing up and needed a dad, even though I had moved out on my own. Father's Day wasn't too bad; I was in a student single's ward. The only families that attended the ward were the bishopric's families. But the Father's Day sale ads were hard. I didn't have a dad to buy for anymore. And I had wish I had taken advantage of the gift giving while my dad was still alive. Maybe the reason I was so forgetful was Father's Day was always after school got out for the summer.

When I was 22, I joined a LDS sorority at Salt Lake Institute of Religion, even though I wasn't a student. One of the activity was a daddy daughter date. Most of the young women were able to bring their fathers since they either lived at home or not far from home. I asked Uncle Victor, my mom's uncle to be my dad for the evening. My mom would always visit him and his wife when we came to Salt Lake, so it made the choice a lot easier.  I felt a lot less awkward having him there.
I don't remember any other activities that involved a dad, except for maybe celebrating Father's Day at church when I attended a regular single's ward. Usually during sacrament meeting on the third Sunday in June,the assigned topic for talks would be about fathers. It didn't bother me too much, unless one of the opening or closing hymns was "O My Father" which was sung at my dad's funeral.  The first time, I heard it I made a bee line for the ladies room as soon I heard the person who was praying said Amen. Even after I attended a regular ward, I would wait until the opening prayer was said before going into the chapel if I noticed the opening hymn was "O My Father".
After 15 or 20 years, I got tired of not being able to celebrate Father's Day.  So I sent my younger brother, Steven flowers. He is dad and that act took some pain away. Steven doesn't always get a Father's present and when he does, it usually isn't flowers.

Since my mom's death I have another father figure. Not so much in my life, even though Jay, my youngest brother does drive me to Costco and other places. Jay has been my oldest brother's caregiver. Every month, Jay drives to the Magic Valley every month to buy Mike groceries and other things that are needed. During the warmer months, he does yard work. We all help out financially, but Jay contributes the most time to Mike's care.
The ads for Fathers Day are getting less painful, probably because I can delete from my email immediately instead of stuffing the ads behind the rest of the newspaper. And heck, it's been awhile since my dad's been away. Life does go on.

How Mother Teresa got through to me

Mother Teresa once said “If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”  In the past year I have seen the wisdom in what Mother Teresa said. Instead of sharing the experience that caused me reflect on what she said, I will share another experience.

UTA has three change days a year, in April, August and December. One August Thursday, I waited for the bus that never came. Since it was the first week of the change, I didn’t have a bus schedule with me, so I had no clue when the next bus would come. I called UTA to complain about the problem. The customer service was able to tell me when the next bus would arrive. She also told me that the drivers were new to the route. The driver that never came had been the driver on Tuesday and Wednesday, so I told the rep that the driver wasn’t new enough to get lost, unless it was a different driver. But it wasn’t because the next Thursday, it was the same brassy blonde on Tuesday and Wednesday and the Friday before.

The second Friday, this driver missed my stop again. Of course, I called UTA again to report the problem. I wanted to know if the bus had broken down, but the rep couldn’t say because this driver did not have on GPS. The bus she drove was one of the older buses.

When the next Tuesday came, I was convinced the driver knew it was me who complained about her no shows twice. She seemed to be less friendly toward me. So after a week or two, I started taking Trax from work and catching another bus at the Trax station to get home. As I rode Trax, I would watch her bus as she headed toward my work and then on the bus heading home, I would look for her again as she drove to the Trax station, just to see if she was running on time. Once, as I was heading home, the driver on the bus I was riding waved to her and she did just stared straight ahead. If looks could kill, the driver in the vehicle ahead of her would have been dead. (She wasn’t looking at the driver of the bus I was riding, so he would have escaped death.) I nicknamed the brassy blonde driver “Stoneface”

During this time, I was taking the bus from work on Monday. The driver was always on time. My ride home on Mondays was quicker than taking Trax from work and not because the driver was on time. It takes an hour with Trax as part of the route home, where just taking the bus home from work is forty minutes. So I decided in October to give this brassy blonde “Stoneface” driver another chance. I noticed that once I stopped finding fault with her that she improved. No, this brassy blonde didn’t change her behavior, but my opinion of her changed. What Mother Teresa said was true, if you judge someone, you have no time to love them. And you are most likely not able to see the good in the person.