EMPTY NESTER

                                       EMPTY NESTER
W.R. Baldwin
12 June 2016

Is an Empty Nester, really a person or a place?

Or just a topic of conversation that we like to embrace?

An Empty Nest can be anyplace, so it seems to me,

In a very large city, a country town, or even in a tree.

Of course the one I speak of in my Blog today,

Is a Human home, when the kids have gone away?

They have all left the roost, but still come to visit.

They do come and spend time, but it’s not too long,-- IS IT?

Sometimes two are left in that empty nest,

And sometimes only one is left there to rest.

The nest is still the same size, and love still does abound,

But like a couple of marbles we seem to just roll around.

The Empty Nesters grow older, and so do those that are gone,

We look out the window, but see no young ones on the lawn.

The days seem to be longer- but I know it’s not so,

But the evening sun does go down very, very slow.

It is part of the plan we agreed to when we came here,

When we did not know of the “Empty Nester Fear.”

We knew we would come and stay in a nest for a while,

Then we would find a companion and have our own nest a while.

My girls have grown up and left for nests of their own.

My son has passed on, it seem like before he was grown.

My Wife and I were together 56 years in our nest.

I think when our home was full is when it was best.

We can’t just quit living when our family has left.

We all have an Earth Plan to finish our quest.

We are older it’s true and we can’t do as much,

Even if we try hobbling on a crutch.

Now I am alone in my Empty Nest and there are no rules for me.

When I get up in the morning I think, “Is there a place I should be?

Then some times the nest is a place I despise.

Sometimes out of bed, I do not want to rise.

Those who left me in my nest alone,

Now have “Empty Nests” of their own,

And their Earth Plan keeps moving, they are on the go

I am indeed quite happy OUR life plans were slow.

One thing I have not conquered here in my nest,

Is called a cell phone and it is a pest.

If it rings more than once and I do not say “hello,”

I get a call on my “old phone” and the question I hear---

WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU-??

CHANGE

Wallace Baldwin 1932

Jerry Allred,Wallace Baldwin, Don Reaveley

Wallace R. & Bill Baldwin
CHANGE

Yes I have Changed,

I am no longer 14

Nor 44

Nor 54

Nor 74

Yes, I am 84 and I have had a lot of time to make a lot of changes. And yes I have made a lot of changes other than just age. Of course I think a couple of the big ones have been physically and intellectually. Also I am pretty sure that in almost all cases just getting older brings a lot of changes—tagging along behind.

Every once in a while I hear someone say,”I wish I could stay 18, or 30, or 50, or whatever age they are, or that they are comfortable with. Of course they probably do not really mean that. (At least I don’t think they do?) They are probably just making conversation, or small talk.

Also I think we have a tendency to want to change other people and not ourselves. Then that begs the question. “Do they need to change, or is it Me that needs to change?” 

In my 84 years I have met A LOT of people and most of them, by far, have done just fine changing their life from toddlers, to teens, to young adults, to Moms & Dads, Grandpa’s and Grandpa’s and even some old Great Grand’s. Of course there have been some bad apples but they have been a small minority.

Maybe we should just “be ourselves” and not try and put on airs, and try to be something we are not. I was surprised many years ago when a friend and I were talking and he said, ”I wish I could just be myself, like you seem to do. So many people seem to have an agenda and it is relaxing to just talk with someone—just to make conversation—not change their mind or try to change yours on everything that comes up.”

At some point in our lives it will probably dawn on each of us that we are flawed in some way. I think we all try to change those flaws, when we come to the realization that we have a few. We discover this at all ages. It could be 15 and “Oh my gosh, I have a pimple.” Now that is not too serious for me at (age 84), but it sure is at 15, and the discovery is made the night before PROM. Heaven’s sake the world may come to an end. Of course at 84 we have a few of those flaws also. We stand at the top of the stairs, with all of our pockets empty, both hands empty, but can’t for the life of us remember what we are headed down stairs to get? I don’t think that is going to change, unless it gets worse?

Then, at least for me there are some “Never Change” things. I and probably almost all people my age, in this country were taught to say “The Pledge to the Flag” with our right hand over our heart. I may be sticking my neck out a little, when I say almost all people, but I don’t think so?

In our schools, and athletic activities, we were taught to “Pledge the Flag” perhaps even so that it became a spiritual experience. Even today if you are at a parade, watch the people my age (?) and you will see the vast majority will be standing at attention, hats off, and hands over their hearts. (No change needed here?)

Another thing that came to mind as I was brain-storming this Blog was our “change of moods.” It is amazing how fast we can change moods, and also how many different things can Change our moods. A CHOIR—singing a Hymn. Especially one I like will almost immediately put me in a relaxed mood, even if just before it started, I was not relaxed. LAUGHTER--- If I hear someone really laughing it almost always puts me in a happy mood. REMINISCING --- This can go on for hours and I love to talk about “the good old days.” I go to breakfast with some old guys and one of them said at one time, “The reason we talk so much about the old days is because we have all lost our short term memory.” Yes, and he is probably right? A RIDE IN THE MTNS.--- I love to ride in the mountains, especially if there is a stream nearby. It seems to calm the ‘devil nerves’ in me. I have to admit a mountain ride got better as we got older. I think it is because as we got older we did not have three or four kids asking impossible questions, or arguing about who should be sitting where?

I hope everyone who reads this blog either keeps a journal, or starts one soon. There is nothing like a journal to make your children and grand children laugh out loud ten or twenty years from the day that you wrote in your journal. (One comment you will continually get if you have a family picture or journal night is “Did that really Happen?” Also there is nothing like pictures so reinforce how much your life has changed from one decade to another. Of course the great commandment of pictures is “Name, Time and Place on the back of EACH picture.” You may think you will never forget a certain picture, but I can honestly tell you that in ten years you will not remember Who, What, When and Where on a lot of them, if not MOST of them. If you do not do a journal now---make the change, I guarantee you will be glad you did.

There are some things that seem very hard to change. I know in our family we have the up-tight, hurry up, I can do this people and we have some don’t worry about it and it will be OK, or it is not important right now type. I think it might be a cop-out when we say “I cannot help it. It must be in my genes.” I would be nice to be calm and serene all the time but that is not likely to be one of our changes.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland made this comment in Conference one session: “Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don’t come until Heaven; but those who embrace the Gospel of Jesus Christ. They come.

President Gordon B. Hinckley made this comment; “Do the best you can. But I want to emphasize that it be the very best”.

So this is about change. And as usual I seem to have rambled a little. As I said earlier, we all have flaws and we all can change. As for me I pretty much try to just be myself, because I am not smart enough to try any other way! I have made a lot of changes in my life and just looking at my picture albums prove that. I am sure I need a few more changes and I am really trying!

Wallace R. Baldwin

7 June 2016

Days to Reminisce

Redwood State Park-California

Flying kites on the beach- Oregon

Redwood State Park-California

Oregon Beach

It seems like I have a lot of time to reminisce here of late. I am happy that I have most of my faculties left so I CAN do that. I suppose it is only normal that a lot of my memories have to do with my wife and the things we have done over the years.

She loved to travel. It did not really matter what the destination was, she just liked to get out and go. I also liked it so it was something we did as often as we could. After we had children they also liked to go on our magic trips. In fact our favorite ones seemed to get boring after the fourth, or seventh or whatever number was the last time was.The different one was Donnie. It did not matter how many times she went she always enjoyed it and always seemed to find something new to see and comment on.

One trip come to mind as I sit and reminisced the other night. It was a trip we took before my wife become dependent on a wheelchair. We left Utah and went to California, then up the coast to Oregon, Washington, North West Montana, down through Northern Idaho and back to Utah. We had several "High Spots" on that trip but it was really fun list listening to Donnie as she acted as the resident tour guide ---Oh look at that, Oh did you see that fern, Look at that eagle nest in that tree-- and it went on and on.

Donnie does not like the water. In fact she will not get in it if she thinks it will be over her ankles. So I was really surprised that she enjoyed the drive up the beach highways all the way from Northern California to the northern tip of Washington. We both enjoyed it and I know those days were some we enjoyed, as we talked a lot about it when we got home. 

One night we stayed in Lincoln Beach, Oregon. Donnie did not care where we stayed as long as they had a deck where we could sit and watch the ocean. We wanted to spend some time there so we stopped early, got a nice room on the second floor with a deck facing the ocean, and we were all set.

We walked the beach for a while (or perhaps I should say I walked the beach,) as Donnie would not get anywhere near the waters edge. We watched people flying kites (not like the kites we had as kids, but BIG, COLORFUL kites. Some looked to be 12 to 15 feet long. I recall one was a dragon. Some had two lines, one to fly it and one to control it. Donnie made the comment that they were almost mesmerizing they were so graceful.

We found a big rock to sit on and had only been there a few minutes and Donnie heard some young kids laughing and playing behind us, so she went over to see what was going on. She only stayed a few minutes and when she came back she took my hand and said, "look I have found something beautiful for you," She gently lay a sand dollar into my hand. She said," isn't it beautiful? Then she looked at me and asked how in the world it got around?

That night we sit on the deck of our motel and watched the ships as they would rise and fall with the swells on the ocean. She was fascinated by the running lights on the ships as they rose as if they had been buried in the sea and then all at once there they were, only to do it over and over until they finally went out of sight as they traveled up and down the coastal waters.

We did not really talk much, we just watched and listened as the waves washed up on the shore. Once in a while we could hear a ship's horn. We stayed out on the deck pretty late and when we finally went in Donnie made the comment,"hasn't it been a magical night." And course I thought to myself, "wouldn't it be great to enjoy little things as much as she does."      

The next morning we headed north on the coast highway out of Oregon and into Washington. In the northern part of Oregon we found a completely different coastline. Donnie said the ocean sounded angry when we got to Oregon. There were cliffs instead of sandy beaches, and the waves pounding on the cliffs sent water spraying in every direction and the beaches were covered with debris. Donnie said it was "fascinatingly beautiful." I would never described it like that but of course I did not always see the beauty in things like she did. I reminded her this was not like the calm rolling ocean that we were at when she lay a sand dollar in my hand.

When I was sitting and reminiscing, a song of my youth came to mind. "Little Things Mean A Lot," was popular way back when. It really is true and the older you get the more you realize that.

When we got to Port Angeles, Washington we decided to stay there so we could get up early in the morning and catch the ferry to Canada and see Butchart Gardens. We got to a motel early and did not have anything to do, and Port Angeles is not a really thrilling tourist town so we decided to walk down to the pier and look around.

There was a man catching crabs in the harbor. I got a lesson on crab catching that day. I am not sure if it is true and I do not know what he was using for bait, but he told me that you throw the bait out with a fishing pole and the crab grabs the bait and will not let go of it so you just reel them in. But this is not meant to be about catching crabs, it is about Donnie's new pass time. We were up on the pier and the crab fisher was down at the water line. It did not take Donnie long to realize that we could see the crabs in the water from where we were standing. She started hollering at the guy and telling him where to cast. Donnie got as excited as if she had been fishing herself. In fact she was more excited than our new found friend. He offered to give her a couple of crabs when he left but we graciously told him no.

Well as I mentioned in the beginning, this blog is supposed to be about reminiscing, and the older I get the more I reminisce about the good old days, and the thoughts seem to get better and longer and perhaps even embellished a little.

Over the years my wife could not travel as much because of debilitating diabetes. However we still took short trips, we still enjoyed nature, people, places and beautiful things in this old world.

She was always able to pick out the beauty around her and to have a kind word for everyone. As she got older our memories and dreams seemed to get better and longer, and as I said perhaps embellished a little.

One thing she never "converted me to do was to go in the "gyp joints" as we traveled and buy a souvenir to bring home as a remembrance. She brought home a lot of them and they still are around here I suppose. Thank heaven she never brought home a "Lava Lamp."

It seems strange how vivid this trip is in my mind when I start really thinking about it?

W.R. Baldwin
3 Jun 2016    

TO MY ANCESTORS

I WAS CLEANING OUT SOME FILES AND FOUND THIS

PERHAPS SOME OF MY GENEALOGY FRIENDS WILL LIKE IT?  Wally

Carl Wonders some more

Carl wonder's why:

Why does it seem easier for two Grandma's to "tend" four Grand Children, than it is for one Grandma to "tend" two Grand Children???

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,)    

FAMILY HOME EVENING

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