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Thursday, April 28, 2016

THE WEEK BEFORE MOTHER'S DAY

THE WEEK BEFORE

    MOTHER'S DAY



   I went out to the cemetery today to visit my Mom and Dad's graves and to put some flowers on the grave sites for Mother's Day which is next week. I got the flowers put on the graves and watered the cut flowers, and arranged the silk ones and then went to sit on the bench which I have taken to calling my meditation bench. It is under a big pine tree and has been there ever since my Dad was buried there. It is just a short distance from their graves.
   As I was sitting there contemplating many things I heard a little voice say, “Hi, Mister, are you here visiting someone?” I turned and looked and standing just behind me, next to the big pine tree were two children who looked about 8 or 9 years old. One was a boy and the other a girl.
   I answered “the voice” because I did not know who was talking. I told them that indeed I was here to visit my Mother, my Father and my Wife. They were all three here close together.
   The little girl (who I later found out was the oldest) then looked right at me and said,
”you look sad, do you mind if we talk to you?” (what do you say to a 9 year old who is that assertive?)
   They were cute, polite and well mannered so I could see no reason not to talk to them. However first I asked if their Mom and Dad were close by? They told me yes and pointed to a grave about six graves away from where I had been sitting and said the two people there were their Mom and Dad.
   The girl asked is I was sad because my Mom was here and I told her no and I visited them a lot. I told them my Mom had been here for 23 years and my Dad had been here for 35 years I told them my wife had only been here for 3 ½ years. The little girl replied that she thought that was a long time and said she bet I visited them a lot.
   The little boy just stood on one foot and then the other and twirled around and looked up and down at his feet like he would rather be someplace else. I asked him if he had a name and told me sure. He said it was Gary and his sister was Mary. Mary gave him a black look and told him she could tell me her name by herself and he did not need to do it for her. (It was pretty easy to see who ruled the roost between those two.)
   I asked Gary if he ever got a chance to talk and his answer to me was a “gem.” He said that Mary always talked a lot so he hardly ever got a chance to say anything.
   As we talked that became quite obvious. Mary said to me, ”You know your Mom and Wife are not really in that grave don’t you?” Before I could answer (perhaps it took me back a little because I would never expect a 9 year old to ask me a question like that) she told me that her Grandma, who they were visiting today, talked to her when she was sick and told her she was soon going to live in Heaven, with Grandpa, who had died several years ago.
   I started to say that it was nice for her Grandma and Grandpa could be together, but before I could get a sentence started she said, ”Are you a Mormon? If you are you should know all about that?”
   Just as she said that a young couple, who looked to be 30 or 35 walked up to the tree. As soon as Gary saw them he yelled Mom, Mary is doing that Preco----- thing again. I can’t remember the name, but she is doing in again!
   The lady walked up to me and apologized for her children bothering me. I told her it actually was nice to have someone to talk to, even if they were precocious. At that point Gary yelled out ---ya that is the word she is, that I never can remember.
   The man stepped over and said. “Hi, I am Mel and my wife is Gwen, and I hope our children have not been to overbearing.” I assured him they had not, and they had been very polite and had even given me a lesson on Heaven and the after life. At that point Gwen said, Oh My, I hope they did not say anything offensive to you.”
   I told her no, but Mary wanted me to know that my Mother and Dad were not really here, in that grave, but this is just a place, set aside, where we come to visit them. She also told me they probably also come here when we are here, so they can be with us?
   At that point Gwen said, “Oh MY (which I found out was her favorite comment) I hope that was not offensive to you. We have been told and of course we know she is more than a little precocious.”
   We visited for some time, and it was strange , but I felt like we were just old friends. I found out that the Harper’s lived in South Jordan, Utah and that their whole family were Utah natives, born and lived in Utah their whole life.
   I told them we were pretty much the same, except for a few years we lived it Idaho. Of course Mary and Gary had already told them that a lot of my relatives were buried right next door.
   I told them my name was Wally and I was glad that Mary and Gary had stopped by to talk to me. Of course Mary spoke right up and said, ”we will have to call you Mr. Wally because it is polite to call old people Mr. & Mrs. Gwen put her hands on her head and said, “Oh Wally, I guess Mary has just told you that you are old. I hope again that she has not offended you.” I assured Gwen that Mary had not offended me, because I had been called worse things than OLD. Gary had been dancing around and kicking the grass again and he finally said,  ”I just wondered how old you really are Mr. Wally?” Gwen did her “Oh My” thing again and I told Gary that as near as I knew I was older than dirt. He laughed and thought that was really funny.
   We visited a little more and it was pleasant for me. It was a little different than what I was used to doing when I was home alone and I enjoyed it.
   Mel finally raised his voice a little and said, “Come on kids we need to get going if we are going to stop at KFC and get lunch on the way home.”
   They all gathered by their Grandma’s grave for a few minutes and then just as they turned to go to the car Mary turned and looked at her Mother and said, “Mom, can Mr. Wally go to lunch with us? You are always telling us we should be kind to the old and those in need.”
   Of course Gwen did her “OH MY, OH MY” thing, a little louder than before. She looked at me and then at Mary, and just as she was going to say something, whatever she had on her mind, Gary said, “Ya Mom that is a great idea, we already know he is old because he told us he was older than dirt.”
   Well my afternoon ended with the little family walking across the lawn toward their car. Mel was shaking his finger at Mary and Gwen had her hand on her head, and I am sure she was saying Oh My, Oh My. Gary was dragging his feet and kicking the toes of his shoes in the grass, and I guessed he had got at least a one sentence reprimand.
   And me! I just sat down on the “Contemplation Bench” and snickered to myself. I had more fun that afternoon than I had had for a long time.
   And then another thought passed my mind---next time I visit the cemetery, maybe I will not wear my sweat shirt with the holes and stains on it, or my TEVA sandals, with the straps that do not stay in place and just perhaps I will get a luncheon invitation, from the Mom and Dad’s and not depend on the kids?

Written April 28 2016
(Of course this is a Blog—not a true story. However some of the things have happened to put ideas in my head,)    











Thursday, April 7, 2016

FAMILY HOME EVENING


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FAMILY HOME EVENING
   The following might be a conversation of two young boys after a Family Home Evening the night before.
   Steve---Hey,“Will”-- do you ever have weird Family Home Evenings at your house? We had one last night and I am not sure if it was ‘who could tell the tallest tale or who could tell the biggest fib. My Dad said it was about reminiscing and it was all true—but I have to wonder?
   Will--- Ya we have those kind of get togethers at our house, once in a while. I really don’t think they mean to fib. I think maybe they just get wound-up and then get carried away.
   Steve--- Well my Dad called it reminiscing (or whatever that word is?) He said we were going to talk about when he and my Mom were kids about our age.
It was actually kind of fun after we got into it. We talked about most people not having cars then, I guess my Mom and Dad didn’t? Some did not have refrigerators. They kept things cool by putting them in a wood box covered with burlap and let water drip on it all the time, and then my Dad says in his big voice—and of course no one had even heard of a Micro wave.
   Well my Mom even talked about her brother milking a cow with his bare hands and actually squirting the milk right out of the cow into her mouth. How disgusting would that be?
   My Dad had put out some old scrapbooks, old journals and picture albums on a table in the front room. We talked about them and the fact they were keepsakes. Then I think my Dad really stretched the truth or maybe to a great big fib? He told us that sometimes they only took maybe, 15 or 20 pictures a year. Then they would take the (he called it film) out of the camera and send it back east someplace and then in 10 or 20 days they would get some pictures back. Can you imagine living without your Camera/Phone? I think I would die if I could not share my pictures and “selfies” everyday with my friends.
   I guess my Mom thought my Dad was getting more story time than she was so she told us one she remembered VERY WELL.
   The town she lived in only got the mail twice a week and you had to go to the Post Office to pick up your mail. She chuckled and told us it was always her job to go get the mail. She said she rode a horse to the Post Office and back and a lot of the times the horse would leave a little “pile” for a calling card, and it was usually by the side of the Post Office building.
   Steve and Will laughed and laughed and thought that was really funny.
Will said they had never had a FHE on the reminiscing stuff, but sometimes they talked about stuff like that when they were just sitting around someplace as a family.
Will---My Dad has to tell his favorite story every time we get together like that. He always has to remind us that he had to walk two miles to school and two miles back home every day and it was uphill both ways. Of course then he lets out this big laugh so we will know he is exaggerating a little!
   Steve--- Well, see if you believe this one. They had a bowling alley with only two lanes and my Dad worked there sometimes. They were not automatic where machines do everything. The bowler would throw the ball and then someone in the pit would move any pins that fell on the alley and then pick up the ball and put it on a wooden chute and send it back to the bowler. Then after two balls he had to set up all the pins (by hand) and send the ball back again. He said sometimes he worked there for a LONG evening and he would get paid .30 cents. Toward the end of the game you were usually tired and quite a few times fingers or thumbs would be mashed between the ball and the return chute. I can’t even imagine doing something like that.
   Steve--- We had a fun night. I did not think it would be at first but we all had fun. As the evening went on my Mom told us about penny post cards. They were called that but actually it cost .02 cents to mail them. But you could mail them to any place you wanted. You did not put them in an envelope. You just wrote the address on one side and wrote a message on the back. Of course anyone who saw them could read everything you put on it.
   And my Dad had to remind us that he paid .25 cents a gallon for gas, but it was not very often they had that much extra cash. Of course they did not have a car either so when he did buy gas it was usually to share with someone else.
   It was getting late and we had not had our treat yet, so my Mom told us she had one more story and she would get the FHE treats.
   She had a job most of her life from the time she was 16 years old. However one of the most interesting ones was as a Telephone Switchboard Operator. In those days most of the telephones were on party lines. That means there were 4 to 8 people with the same line. If the operator rang once it was for one person, and if she rang twice it was for someone else and so on-----. Of course the interesting part was that ANYONE on the party line could pick up the phone and listen in to anyone on that line. And then the Operator could listen in to ANYONE on any phone in town. Steve said he asked his Mom if she ever listened and she said, “Of course Not.” Then she put her finger up to the side of her head like she was thinking and said, “or did I once?” Ha Ha.
   Well the boys laughed, and when they told their friends about their reminiscing FHE, all their friends laughed also. I think a few conversations were started with “Can you believe”, or “I would die if I had to live like that.”
   If this little blog reminds you of some of YOUR times, maybe you are about the same age I am. If you think one of your friends would like it—Share it.

Wallace R. Baldwin—7 April 2016