Sikovit

It’s only been a month, but it seems like winter has been forever. I can’t remember the last time I saw a sidewalk without snow. Tuesday night after I got off the bus, I was greeted by an unshoveled sidewalk. Suddenly, I had my fill of tromping thru the snow, climbing over snow banks on the corner. Tired of having the bus drop or pick me up in the middle of a driveway. So today, I sought therapy with the camera on my cell phone. (I’ve included a few pictures that I took earlier in the month. My cell phone has been busy.)

 Jay said this was frozen fog. It was just strange seeing frost or ice on one side of the bush.

 Waterskiing on the Snake River in January?

 There’s nothing like a ice cold diet coke on a cold January morning in Idaho.

 Padded benches on campus?

 No cutting in allowed, get in line at the entrance.

 Who wants to be King of the Hill?

 This snow on this corner has been here so long, I can’t remember where the sidewalk ends.

 It has been awhile since I saw the sun set as I get off the bus. Lately it’s been while I was on the bus or on Trax or as I walk to Trax station at the Rice Eccles Stadium. Seeing this as I walked down the sidewalk, gave me hope. The days are getting longer and that means spring will come.

My Friday Morning Commute

Now that the day is almost over, I'm going to tell my story of my snowy commute to work. I walked out of my unit, I saw it was snowing; not heavy, but not light either. The parking lot had been plowed, but the sidewalk in front had not been shoveled. I saw a large guy walking in the street because the of the sidewalk. But I decided to play it safe and trudge thru knee deep snow. When I got to the corner I crossed the street which had been plowed. The man had turned the corner and was waiting in the street for his bus. Instead of heading down the other side of the street like I usually do, I decided to catch the bus in front of the gas station. I had to detour thru the gas pump area because the gas station seldom shovels their sidewalks. I made a little clearing with my shoes. I think that is the only shoveling that sidewalk got today. 
I got on the bus about 6:40. After the bus made another turn, I heard a guy (who had just got on) call his wife to tell her not to send the children to school today. His knee deep snowy walk occurred in the middle of the street. About 3300 South I texted Penny "On the dang bus. Even TB is. That means the work place isn't closed down." (TB is a VP's secretary.) All hope for a university closure was lost. At 7:18, I texted Penny again "Bus is on Foothill Parking Lot. Maybe it (will) make it to Sunnyside before long. Are we having fun yet?" 
An hour after boarding the bus, I got off. As I was walking toward the business building, I touched my glasses and one of the lens fell out. (I have a loose screw.) I couldn't see the lens in the snow, so I bent down and with the help of little light that the dawn was provided I found my lens. I stuck in my coat pocket and pressed forward. But I decided I didn't want to be loopy, so I took my glasses off and stuck them in my bag. When I got to the business building I secured the glasses a little further in the bag and proceeded across campus half blind. 
When I got to my building, I took my coat off and my socks.  After my feet dried out, I put on some dry socks. It felt so good and warm. I also put on my spare glasses, an old prescription. Then I fixed my other glass and put them in my purse. I wasn't going to wear screw loose glasses on a snowy campus. Then I got down to business; I attempted to work on a snowy Friday morning.
(Classes were canceled at 1p.m. TB's boss gave us the approval to leave campus.)

Looking Back on 2012

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.
I wrote the above around the first of May 2012. I had attended a one session class about change. One of the bosses for our division at University of Utah strongly advised that the employees under her attend the class.. Little did I realize then that 2012 would be wrought with change. At the time, life was good and nothing on horizon indicated change. But as fate would have, things started happening during the summer that brought another big change in my life. My mom passed away from cancer.

In this summary, I will start at the first of the year, when life was calm. 2012 wasn’t all bad and I want to remember that, even though it was another year of growth. So glad I had that class when I did. 2011 would have been too early and 2013 would have been too late.  And like 1980, I feel like "I made it thru the rain" again. But then again, I still feel as if I will be still dancing in the rain when 2013. There is still unfinished business to complete.

We are doing okay. We enjoyed more blue skies in January than any other January in recent history. My iPad and cell phone documented this little known fact quite a bit.

Between Jay’s birthday and mine, I volunteered once more at the Race for the Cure. I helped out the day before the race activities. I had to pass a background check first because I took donations. It was at new venue this year. Because the race outgrew The Gateway, it had to be moved to Library Square. The numbers were down this year because of a certain beneficiary causing a controversy. But there was still a large turnout, thanks to those who have hope for a cure.

Summer was okay. There were more than usual range fires close to homes in Utah.(and Idaho and Colorado, my other home states.) Jay and I were never in danger, but others were. I didn't go anywhere, not even to Park City. Jay and John went home a few times. I don't like traveling during the summer that much. Too hot.
Things got a bit too eventful as fall approached. Three or four weeks after being diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, my mom left us to reunite with my dad. Although I didn't see her until a few hours after she passed, I did cherish the moments I got to hear her voice. It was weak, but thanks to my parents' sacrifice when I was twelve, I got to hear her voice. (I had an ear operation before I entered 7th grade.) My sisters took care of Mom in Washington, but the services were in Idaho where she is resting now.
Looking back on the past year, I find that I am grateful for kindness. Crystal was thrilled when she got a gift card to Cafe Zupas. Tracina thanked me for the Swedish Fish I threw in a package at the last minute. A lot of people sent my mom get well cards. Mom did her best to cheerful toward the nurses. My work gave me funeral chocolates instead of flowers. I liked that. But the most comforting kindness I knew that people were praying for Mom and my family in our time of need and being kind to my older brother even though he didn't deserve it.

Although I am glad 2012 is almost over, I am glad I went thru it. I've learned quite a bit and still will as I continue in 2013. Sorry the world didn’t end 12/21/12. Marty McFly went back to the future in 2015. For once Hollywood got it right.

Trains

I rode UTA's Frontrunner to Provo Saturday morning. Regular service started Monday, so Saturday was a free ride. At least between Salt Lake Central and Provo. I woke up earlier than usual for a weekend and caught the bus at 9am. I decided to go for the morning hours because I had an event that evening. I also assumed the line would be shorter than the afternoon hours. In April 2008, when Frontrunner debuted, Jay and I stood in line for hours before we boarded for our hour ride to Ogden. My assumption proved correct, because when I got off the UTA Trax Blue line at Salt Lake Central, there was hardly a line. When I boarded the train, I had my choice of seats. So different than four years ago when I boarded a standing room only train. When we finally pulled into the Provo Station, there was a long line forming. I took a picture and texted it to Isaac, who had plans to ride it free that afternoon.

When Isaac was born I took my last round trip to Seattle from Salt Lake City on Amtrak. I had taken my first trip on Amtrak five years earlier on the same route. My love of traveling by rail blossomed with Amtrak and I didn't realize how much I missed trains until Frontrunner opened up four years ago. There is just something about riding a train.

A few summers ago in 2009, I took a trip on the Heber Valley Railroad with my mom, my sister, Mary and her best friend, Deborah. The cars were pulled by a steam engine locomotive. There was a dining car like Amtrak and passenger cars like Frontrunner, except it was a single level of seats instead of two. We sat out in the open air car, which was what Mom preferred. She had a taken a few train trips in her youth.

Although my love affair with began with Amtrak, it really started while I was living at home. Growing up I would often see the freight trains north of where I lived. Sometime when we go to Paul, Burley, Heyburn or Rupert, we get stopped at the railroad lights waiting for the freight line to pass. If there were a lot of cars following the locomotive, we would count the cars. Sometimes when I couldn't sleep at night I would hear a train north of us, passing thru the night. The conductor would blow the whistle as the train crossed roads. It was comforting because I knew I wasn't the only one awake. When I traveled to Seattle both times on Amtrak, the train would pass thru Southern Idaho in the middle of night. I always wonder if there was someone awake who could hear the train and I wondered if it was as comforting to them as it had me for me.

I like trains, probably because I have such good memories and will continue to create good memories. After all, I usually ride the UTA Trax Red line home from work most weekday nights.

Glass Houses

I usually don't political in my blogs. I leave that to others. But after this election year, I thought I would share my thoughts. I did share this on Facebook before Tuesday, November 6th.

I find myself telling me that I am glad that the election is over. The verbal attacks have been again intense this year. But then I remember 4 years ago, the verbal attacks didn't stop after the election; they got worse. Not only have Romney and Obama been throttling each other necks, but Matheson and Love were throwing mud at each other. I am sure their parents and/or mentors would not approve of or taught such behaviors. It is quite sad that the candidates engaged in such blistering accusations, but it is even sadder that voters and media commentators followed their example and engaged in such profane exchanges. The profanity used during the election year did not always include swearing and the usual foul language, but it was often full of condemning words. I found myself confused at some of the anger expressed. Both major parties were speaking lies and casting accusations at the other parties.
Some of my Facebook friends engaged in the mud throwing. Most of them that did, just posted the photo that expressed their view, but some felt a need to throw more mud when they post a comment about the photo. I had to limit what came thru my newsfeed, mostly to keep myself sane in time of bitterness. When I saw these postings I was reminded of the LDS hymn that has the words "Let Oft Speak Kind Words".  Sometimes I thought of the words that Pres. Dieter F. Uchtdorf spoke in April 2012 LDS General Conference "Let us put our stones down. Let us be kind." I am reminded of the quote "People in glass houses should not throw stones." We all live in glass houses and none of us are better than the other, even though we vote differently.
When the election was over in 2008, I thought the anger would subside. It didn't, people were offended that Obama won. A former student refused to do his exit interview because Obama was in the White House. And it is the same this year. A coal mining CEO, Bob Murray closed down a mine in Central Utah because Obama won. I see Facebook postings that blame the evils of the nation on election results. Why do people insist on beating a dead dog senseless? If the dog is dead, it is safe to say that the dog has no sense, therefore the job is done. Why waste the energy? The election is over, the votes have been counted - move on and live with the results. I remember when Bush lost to Clinton in 1992; he asked the American public to support Clinton. It had been a bitter battle for the White House like it was this year. But Clinton has became like a son to Bush, because both were willing to put turn their swords into plowshares and be kind to each other. They rebuilt the bridge they burned.
Secret Agent L. said, "Be kind. No exceptions." I don't know who Secret Agent L is or what kind of media he or she is from, but I like what was said. So now that the election is over, I hope Romney, Obama, Matheson, Love, members of congress and the senate, the media commentators and the voters can turn their swords into plowshares. Please don't beat the dead dog on the sidewalk senseless. Be kind and give it a proper burial. The dog won't know of your kindness. But others will know, even if you bury the dog quietly. As Dieter F. Uchtdorf  said last April  "Let us put our stones down. Let us be kind."

Loss

I lost my mom, but they lost their grandma.

 I look at this picture and  I see their long, sad faces. I wish I had just given them a hug instead of taking the picture.  Losing a loved one isn't easy when you are a teenager. I lost my cousin, Edward when I was in 9th grade. When I heard of his death; it seemed unreal. I can only imagine that is what my nephews are feeling when I look at this picture.  When Laura and I got back to house from the care center after the mortuary took Mom's body, Skylar went outside and jumped on the tramp a few times. His actions reminded me that life went on. It was comforting to see him on the tramp. Skylar had been waiting in the car most of afternoon while we waited for the mortuary to come and while we also made a few phone calls and preliminary funeral plans. He had been patience and probably had to release some stress. After all, his grandma just died.

As I was sitting in church this past Sunday, I realized I had something in common with these young men. Like them, I never knew my Grandpa Jackson. He died before my parents were married. Skylar, Brennan and Spencer never knew their Grandpa Jackson, my dad. My mom was a widow before either of my nephews parents had been married. As I was growing up, I missed knowing my dad's parents. (Grandma Jackson died shortly after my oldest brother was born.) Maybe the sadness I see on my nephews' faces are of missing another grandparent. And then maybe I can understand their pain. Losing a grandparent is tough.

The Hippie Bus

I notice the Hippie Bus last spring, but it could have been there from the semester before. It was a old small yellow school bus that looked lived in. Turf (from the stadium?) covered the body except for the windows and the hood of the van. There were curtains in the windows. As I walked most days to my spot at the Trax station,  I noticed at times there were things hanging from the front where the head lights would be. Most days it was there always facing south, but that was because it was parked on a one way street (or alley). When Spring semester ended, I thought the Hippie Bus would go away. But after a week it came back, close or in the same spot as before. The last time I saw the Hippie Bus, a young man was driving it toward 500 South. He didn't look like a hippie, but a regular student. Fall semester is well under way and the Hippie Bus is gone. As I wait for the train to come take me away, I look at the spot where it was parked and I miss the Hippie Bus.

My Memories of Mom

My earliest memories are growing up. I remember once Mom asked to help Laura wash the dishes and I didn't want to. I remember slamming a melmack (plastic dinnerware popular in the 70's) plate into a sink full of dishes. The plate received a major chip and had a crack, but it was still useable. Every time I saw that plate, I was reminded of my anger. I am not sure if I learned my lesson to hold my tongue, but I am glad that my Mom silently put me in my place.
I remember her picking me and my siblings up at school sometimes and for Primary every Wednesday. That was just who she was. Looking after her children. I remember going to her genealogy books and being fascinated by those legal size sheets.
Once I was having a problem getting along with one of my friends, it was either junior high or high school. I don't remember what she told me, but I remembered that she listened and that she cared.
When I graduated from the University of Utah, she was determined to attend the ceremonies with Steve and me. She regretted not being able to be there when I got my Associates from Ricks College years before. Steven led me on a final campus tour before I turned my cap and gown in at the bookstore. She trailed us for some of the tour before finding a place to rest.
I remember trips to Colorado and Blackfoot, Idaho to see family. I also remember a trip to Olympia to see Mary's family. Not everyone came, but we had a good time. It was fun to visit Victoria, Canada. We took the ferry there. It was my only time out of the country. We took a few trips to Seattle together, both by plane and car. 
Aunt Gladys, Mom and I took a two week vacation in the Midwest. Our destination was Nauvoo. Aunt Gladys would comment that Mom had a habit of falling asleep in the back seat like their father did during Sacrament Meeting (church service). Mom said she was just along for the ride and grateful to be included. Mom said once during the trip that she figured this would be her last chance to see Nauvoo and some of the other places we visited.
When I flew out on Southwest, September 14th, to see Mom for a possible last time. About an hour before boarding, my sisters called to tell me that Mom had left this mortal life. I felt lonely until I was standing in line to board the plane. I realized she would be making this trip with me. One of my first flights to Seattle was with Mom on Delta, which is the airline she always flew. I was grateful to have a final flight with her and to know that she will continue to watch over me.

Posts From a Email & Facebook

To be read to my Mom
August 25, 2012 10:01 PM
Thanks, Mom for taking care of me. I think you put a lot of investment in me. I was glad that I could hear you tonight. Granted I did have my good ear pressed to my cellphone. I have realized recently that my hearing has declined in the last decade, but I am glad for the hearing I have. Your voice was weak and I'm pretty sure you weren't speaking directly into the phone, but I got to hear you. Thanks for all those trips to Salt Lake for my hearing tests and for staying with me when I had my operation. The bones in my left ear may have grown back together, but the operation wasn't in vain. I think I learned compassion and to have faith. I don't think I could have gotten thru losing Dad and my other trials if you hadn't spent the time caring for me. I think you did a pretty good bang up job on me.  I'm glad that Laura is able to take care of you. I think she taught us all to be a fighter and to have faith when the outcome isn't so sure. I'm pretty sure Mary was using her as example when she had cancer. I've learned a lot from Laura, even though she is my younger sister. I don't why Mom but when I think of the fight you are fighting now, I feel a peace. I don't know the outcome, but I know that somehow things will work out. Dad is watching over you and he has watched over all of us for the past 30 something years. Love is eternal.  Well, Mom, get some rest, drink your Boost and let Bella and Mo give you cheer. I love you and I always will.
Take care. Susan 
Perseverance and spirit have done wonders in all ages. General George Washington

A smile that is infectious is healthy.

My mom is smiling at the world. My sister, Mary texted this picture Saturday evening, September 8th, while Jay and I were at Stake (extended LDS neighborhood) Conference. When I saw this picture, I had to chuckle. This is her typical smile and it was so refreshing to see after the earlier pictures that Mary had texted. I saved it my card in my cellphone and then took the card out and into the PC. I printed off a copy for my brother who does not have cellphone or Internet connection. When I finished that I emailed to my aunts, a cousin and of course my siblings. Then I emailed it to Jewel, my adopted sister. When I got back to my iPad, I checked my email and saved the picture. Every time I open my iPad there is my Mom smiling at me. And now of course, thanks to the digital age, my Mom is smiling at the world. Yeah, a  smile that is infectious is healthy. It was for me.

My Mom is well. She is with my Dad once again and having a joyful reunion with her  sister, Verla and her parents. She has even met my Grandpa Jackson for the first time.  I will miss my Mom, but I have the faith that she is where she needs to be with her family that she hasn't seen for so long. Mom, like my Dad will continue to watch over me. Thank you all for your support and prayers during this ordeal. It has meant a lot. Prayers were answered and will continue to be answered.
(I can just see my Dad introducing my Mom to her father-in-law "Dad, this is LaRee, the young woman I married.")

Thanks to the examples of others, I can face this challenge. When my Dad died 30 plus years, I remembered a classmate who had grew up without her father and that gave me courage to forge on. And now that my Mom has left this mortal life, I look at the example that my friends have set, who have lost their parents and realize I can sum the courage to move forward. Thanks for your examples that you didn't know you were setting for me; it has been most appreciated. 9/18