by jphilo | Nov 28, 2011 | Family
The short answer to that question is no.
The longer answer is no, but after lunch at the University of Minnesota Arboretum Friday, Mom wanted to sit down while my sister, brother-in-law, and I browsed in the gift shop. The management had thoughtfully placed children’s books near the comfy couches and easy chairs in the lobby. All the books were holiday related, but the only available ones were about Hanukkah. So Mom indulged in a Jewish cultures class and read a stack of kids’ books about the miracle of lights during our gift shop foray. We finished before Mom found out what happened to the Hanukkah Cat, but she didn’t complain about missing the exciting conclusion of the story.
The even longer answer is that reading a stack of children’s books in five or ten minutes is small potatoes for Mom. She reads like the wind, checking out a half dozen to a dozen books a week from the library. However she also worries about losing her library books and refuses to pack any when she comes to stay at our house or goes to my sister’s. But, she goes bonkers without anything to read, so we have to stock up on reading material for her.
So when she got to my house Tuesday afternoon, I handed her the book I’d just finished, Growing Up Amish by Ira Wagler. She finished it Wednesday morning before we left for the Twin Cities.
When we arrived at my sister and brother-in-law’s she immediately picked up the book he was reading. I didn’t catch either the title or author and maybe Mom didn’t either in her haste to finish it before company arrived on Thanksgiving afternoon.
My sis suggested Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns which Mom said she’d read before, but would read again. By the time we packed the car on Saturday morning, she was down to the last few chapters. We brought the book with us since the ending is a little more substantive than that of Hanukkah Cat.
So the final answer to the initial question is still no, Mom is not studying for her Bat Mitzvah. But I am stocking up on reading material for her next visit. Your book suggestions and donations are welcome!
by jphilo | Nov 22, 2011 | Family
Two days until Thanksgiving. My to do list is growing exponentially, and I’m starting to panic. Since Tuesday is also the day for visiting Mom, I’m enlisting her in the action. Here’s what’s on the docket:
- Pick up Mom for dentist appointment at 10:00
- Stop back at brother’s house to pick up Mom’s suitcase
- Lunch somewhere fun
- Drive to Boone
- Stop at grocery store to pick up mince for pie
- Drive to Frasier to drop off Mom’s old metal kitchen stool at the sandblaster
- Listen to Mom tell stories about the old stool while we drive
- Bring Mom home for a nap before Judge Judy
- Watch Judge Judy
- Make Mom’s famous Chex Mix after Judge Judy
- Listen to Mom tell about getting the recipe for her famous Chex Mix while she watches me make it
- Fix supper
- Eat supper before Wheel of Fortune
- Watch Wheel of Fortune
- Listen to Mom tell Hiram that in the morning we’re making mince pie for Thanksgiving, but that there probably won’t be enough for him
- Play a couple rounds of Uno with Mom and listen to her tell Hiram that we made Chex Mix earlier in the day, but that there probably won’t be enough for him
- Say good night to Mom and remind her to get up early tomorrow to help make pies
- Set out the lard to soften for making pie crust in the morning
- Look forward to tomorrow and our drive to my sister’s house in Minnesota for Thanksgiving
Sure glad Mom will be here to help. No way could I get all this done without her.
by jphilo | Nov 8, 2011 | Family
Today’s recycled post, from November of 2007, made me smile when I read it. It seemed especially pertinent since I spent part of Saturday cleaning our bedroom closet. I got rid of four sacks of clothes. But not the costumes. Never the costumes. Who knows when the kids will need them?
The Costume Box – Recycled
“Hi Mom, I thought of something for you to bring this weekend when you come: a dress from the costume box. It might work for one of the actresses in the play.”
She directed me to exactly the right box in the attic. I placed the yellow Tinkerbell wings she wore when she was two on the floor, dug past her Bye, Bye, Blackbird dance recital costume, and finally pulled out the dress we think she’s talking about. It’s one I wore in a play over twenty years ago. “Does it look 1930ish?” she asked.
I wasn’t sure so I went to the cedar chest and found two skirt sets, not costumes but clothes too dear to send to Good Will, that I thought might work. After we said good-bye, I added them to the growing pile of things-to-take-to-Anne-this-weekend.
For some reason, her request cheered me. My kids loved to dress up, even when most children abandon the world of make believe. The costume box was one of their favorite toys. It still is. After all, my college-aged daughter isn’t finished with it yet.
I hope she never is because I love sharing the costume box with her. Hey, I still dress up now and then. And it’s nice to have someone around who gets what that’s all about, who understands how important a childlike imagination is, especially for adults.
Funny how a phone call and a costume box can be a blessing, pardon the pun, in disguise.
by jphilo | Oct 25, 2011 | Family
This past weekend was a walk down memory lane for me and three girl friends. We spent some of our time together catching up on decades of life since we graduated from high school in 19__. But mostly, we remembered the four years we were best friends, from the first day of ninth grade to the day we got our diplomas. Our parents figured largely in those memories, and since returning home, I’ve been thinking about and grateful for what we learned from our parents. So what better recycled column for today than one from October of 2007 about what my father taught me.
What Dad Taught Me – Recycled
On Monday, I went to a funeral for a man from our church. His children paid tribute to their dad during the service. He’d been a wonderful father, who took them hunting and fishing. He coached Little League, encouraging and teaching every child on the team. They mentioned that throughout their adult lives, when they reunited with childhood friends, their friends said hello and in the next breath, “How’s your dad?”
Maybe I shouldn’t confess this, but their memories saddened me. They reminded me of all my father couldn’t do with us. Don’t get me wrong. Dad was a vibrant man who loved children. He would have been a great Little League coach. And though he wasn’t a hunter or fisherman, he would have led our 4-H club. He would have taught us to raise, show and judge cattle because that was what he loved.
But he couldn’t do any of that because multiple sclerosis put him in a wheelchair when he was thirty, my sister was six, I was three and my brother was a baby. So I was sad at Monday’s funeral, not only for the family of the man who had died but also for what our family lost to Dad’s illness.
For the last few days, God has comforted me with truth. Over and over I’ve pictured Dad in his wheelchair while he lived at home or in his bed at the nursing home. And in every picture, his wide face is serious, even sad. Until one of his children or grandkids comes into his presence. Then his face breaks into a big grin that shows his square, white teeth and his green eyes light with delight.
And that is what Dad taught me: a father’s delight in the presence of his children. His delight didn’t come from what we could do for him. He was delighted because we were his children. We had taken time to be with him.
So now I’m thinking about God the Father. When I enter His presence, does His face light up? After all, I’m His child too.
by jphilo | Oct 10, 2011 | Family
Saturday, I went to Cedar Falls with my brother and his wife to watch the University of Northern Iowa marching band perform at the Uni-Dome. For some reason, two halves of a football game were scheduled on either side of their performance. Must have been a scheduling snafu somewhere.
Wasn’t it nice of the band to share their afternoon with the football team?
Not just share it, but agree to perform when the football players needed a little rest. Of course, that meant the team didn’t get to watch the main event. In fact, the marching band felt so sorry for the football players, they went onto the field and treated the team members to a song when they entered the stadium. Then, they lugged their instruments into the stands played some nifty ditties whenever there was a lull in the action. In my opinion, they could have played more often.
But what do I know about football games?
The halftime show was magnificent. We could see really well because, the people in front of us went to the concession stand or the bathrooms when halftime began. I guess nobody told them the band was the main attraction of the afternoon. Too bad, ‘cause they were the big losers. They missed a really unique show – half Star Wars, half Cabana music. Sounds strange, but it worked. Probably because my niece – she’s the blond right in front with the silver trumpet – was always in the right place at the right time. She was so good, they brought out a baton twirler and a precision flag and drum team to honor her efforts.
I am not making this up.
After wowing the crowd, the band considerately sat in the stands and watched the football game. They once again entertained the crowd when the opportunity arose. And, they played more songs after the game, not quitting until the crowd was out of the stadium. Unfortunately, the football players weren’t anywhere to be found. It made me feel kind of sorry for the football team. All afternoon at the Uni-Dome, and they weren’t allowed to enjoy the main event. Maybe that’s why everyone cheered when they won their little game.
The poor fellas need to feel good about something.
by jphilo | Oct 3, 2011 | Family
As a rule, this blog is a place where readers can come to relax and reflect. But today’s post will be an exception. Today’s post is issue driven, and we’re going to talk retirement. Why?
Because it’s important.
For the past three years, I’ve been helping Mom manage her finances. For the last two months, I’ve spent hours activating her long term care insurance and arranging for some in-home care three days a week. Sure, it’s a bit of a hassle, one more thing to cram into my busy days. But, it has also been much easier than what many families face because Mom has the financial means to meet her care needs.
Lately, I’ve been asking myself this question: Why is a former school teacher who raised three kids and cared for her chronically ill husband for 38 years in such good financial shape? Here are a few good answers:
- Because she took out exceptionally good long term care insurance many years ago.
- Because she pinched pennies throughout her life and saved diligently for retirement.
- Because as she worked, she wisely built up her pension income.
- Because my brother and sister-in-law share their home with her.
My siblings and I are all very grateful for Mom’s foresight and wise money management. We’re following in her footsteps, too. Hiram and I have long term care insurance policies (I think the sibs do, too), and we all save extra for retirement. And our kids are learning how to care for the elderly (that will be us in another generation) by observing how we treat Mom.
An NPR series about baby boomers and retirement that aired last week shows how rarely members of the upcoming generation of senior citizens engages in this kind of planning. If you haven’t done much retirement planning, you’ll want to listen to every episode of the series. But even if you and your elderly parents have planned well, the series is worth listening to in it’s entirely. The reporters present some really good information and highlight many of the resources I learned while helping Mom. How I wish I’d known it about three years ago!
If you’re convinced, here are links to the series, in the order they aired:
Retirement: Reality Not as Rosy as Expectations
Boomers’ Delusions about Health in Retirement
Saving for Retirement: How Much Do You Need?
What Is Retirement Anyway?
Forget Florida: Colder Climes Top Retirement List
After you read or listen to the stories, come back and leave a comment about what you read. Or share your best retirement planning tip. And rest assured, tomorrow this blog will be back to relaxing, reflective topics you’re used to…as long as our retirement plans keep holding out.
