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Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

My Monthly Lunch Date

In The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we have a program called Visiting Teaching. In it, you are assigned a woman or two or three or four to go visit once a month. I've heard people say that you're "assigned a friend." Umm...Okay. This has annoyed many people. As for me, I love it!

Over the years, I've gotten to know so many great women, and when you live under a rock, that's a HUGE deal. The support system is awesome!

I also have Visiting Teachers that visit me. I remember one day a number of years ago when I was swimming in clean, dry, unfolded laundry. During their visit, these two women came in and offered to help me fold the massive mountain that was my reality on that particular day. It was such a kind, charitable act, and although it may seem like a small thing, when you're dealing with nine people's laundry (that was before I hollered "Uncle"), it's a HUGE deal.

I have a companion and three women to visit. I love them all. We each have common points in our lives--I have more with some than with others, but it's always entertaining to go visit with them.

With one of these women, we have decided that each month we will go to lunch together. Today is the day! The first time we visited with her, it was in her home. For the second visit, we decided to do something a bit different. We opted to meet up at my favorite Mexican restaurant. She had never been there before.

While we were munching on our chimichangas, we decided that this was such a fun thing that we'd do it every month. So far we've had Mexican food, burgers at the best burger place in town, and today, we're going to have gyros. I look forward to our outing all month.

The gyro place is great, but the gyros are HUGE. I have only eaten one muffin this morning in anticipation of overdoing the WW points during lunch.

I wish I would've taken advantage of this kind of Visiting Teaching in the past. My friend and I have decided that even when I'm not her Visiting Teacher anymore, we're still going to lunch once a month.

Gyros, here we come! Hmm....Now, where to go next month?....

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Let's Start with Spaghetti

Before you read the post below, read this.




Just before heading to the MTC, #1's friend had a family move in with them. It just so happens that that family was from the Philippines.

Random? Okay, yah, I agree.

Wait….It gets better.

They were living with this friend's family until they could find a place of their own, and they did….In our ward boundaries (for those who may not know, a "ward" is an LDS congregation. What ward you are in is determined by where you live). At one point, I had heard that our ward has the smallest geographical boundaries in the state of Oregon. Whether that's still true or not, I don't know, but for them to just happen to find a place in our small boundaries?….Yah, random.

Then, okay, maybe not so random….I am made the wife's visiting teacher (in the LDS church, a visiting teacher is assigned to each woman to check in and make sure everything's good for the family. It's kind of like an assignment to be someone's friend. Strange? Yah, okay, but you really do end up being friends, and it's a lovely thing). So, you kind of get the picture of what my assignment is here. Well, my assignment has turned into a joy.

I have to admit, the first time I visited with her, I was nervous. We had chatted back and forth on Facebook a few times, but I really didn't have any experience with her, and I had to take #7 with me.

From the moment she opened her door, it became SUCH a SWEET visit. She even embraced my lively and wiggly four-year-old in her kindness. I couldn't wait to go and be with her again. I am grateful that I was the one who was chosen for this assignment. She has become my good friend.

The other night was her birthday. I went to take her a little something. The Warden waited in the car while #6 and I ran it in to her.


This woman invited us in and sat us down and fed us spaghetti. Not like American spaghetti or Italian spaghetti, but Filipino spaghetti. It was SO DELICIOUS!

We left with a big bowl full for the Warden. She had to share.


Knowing what I know now, is it any wonder #1 loves who she serves?


Yesterday we got word that #1 has been transferred to a new city. I received a letter stating the facts of her transfer. I want to share a line from that letter.

We were told where she will be serving and that it is a wonderful place, and then it goes on to say this:


"…The people are loving and kind, and you will also find the people to be hospitable….The members there are supportive with regards to missionary work and they are always excited to work with the Missionaries and involve themselves to the work."


These are the kind of people my daughter rubs shoulders with, and these are the kind of people I now rub shoulders with as well.

Can you see how this is not random? This is a small part of a much bigger picture. This is my life now. It's so different from what it once was.


There is one more significant detail to this story…..

Before you send a child to a foreign country, people tell you about the culture, the food, other little details. You don't really know what to expect.

So, in my first email to #1 after she arrived in the Philippines, I asked her about the food. Her response?…


"Sister E made spaghetti for us! Oh it was the best spaghetti I've ever eaten. reminded me of home."


Funny our parallel lives on opposite sides of the globe. Best spaghetti I've ever eaten. Reminded me of her.


People said there would be great blessings for sending #1 on a mission. I just had no idea.

Maybe you begin to agree with me….None of this is random.

Friday, September 20, 2013

Micah's Story: A Warning for Us All

The other day, I saw this on my Facebook feed:


"My dad passed away today, a terrible and sad story. I want all my family and ... friends to know that I took my dad and I did every possible thing I could to save him. Losing him this way was a horrible tragedy."


This really caught my eye. My brother had introduced me to this woman thinking that we might be cousins. Her maiden name is the same as mine--not an extremely common name. We haven't really compared notes to see if we are yet, but someday soon, we will.


The next day, she shared her story. It is significant. Having just set my husband and I up with Power of Attorney for #1, I feel that it needs to be shared as a warning to all of us. After I read it, I called my dad to see that he has things set up appropriately. It would be awful to see anything remotely similar to this be repeated. 

With Micah's permission, I share her story:



* A warning for all on granting a sole person Power of Attorney*


This is the story of what happened to me and my brothers and sister. It all stemmed from our father granting Power of Attorney to one single individual. It shows the problems with the system of granting POA to one person and how the family members, as a whole, don't get to make ANY decisions in the care for a person who needs help (medical and physical). This is the story of the tragic and difficult fight to try to save my father’s life.


Larry and his grandchildren
On July 13, 2013, Dad’s birthday, the kids and I decided to head up to see him. We stopped, got him a pie, and headed up. While we were there, he was walking around, making jokes, eating his pie, and talking about selling his boat. We stayed only a few hours and then headed home. I knew my Aunt P was coming up and would be there soon for her visit. He seemed ok with no issues. P stayed and visited for 4 days and dad was okay walking around, eating, and talking with her.

I spoke to my dad and his wife a few times in between on the phone for just a couple minutes at a time. I knew my older brother was going up for the weekend to spend time with Dad; I was told they went fishing together.

I then went up myself on Aug 24th for the Corn Fest. I stopped by the house and Dad was complaining of his hip hurting but said he had his ibuprofen and was okay. He then decided to boss me around, talk about the boat and act like he always did with me. Nothing was out of the ordinary 

They said they were planning a fishing trip to Fish Lake the following weekend. I even got confirmation from a co-worker that they did go. He, (my co-worker), said he spoke with my dad's wife, and she said that Larry (Dad) was ill. He spent the majority of the time in the trailer resting. I called, and his wife said he was ill, but there was no major concern. She was pretty vague and didn't go into much detail about it.

I had a sister-in-law heading over for the next weekend, and if there was a problem, she would call, so I didn't call or speak the either of them (my dad or his wife) until Monday, Sept 9th. That day, his wife called me and said he wasn’t doing well and that she was going to take him to Cedar to the hospital. I had been sick all weekend and was still sick at home. I told her that I wasn't able to drive up there, but to please call me when they got there. She did call and said they were running tests and that when they knew more, she would call me back.

She called me that afternoon and said they were still running tests, and they were going to keep him overnight. I said, “Good." She agreed to call in the morning. 

She called Tuesday while I was at the doctor’s office for my illness and said they hadn't found out much, and they were going to continue with more testing. I said ok.

That afternoon she said much of the same. I asked what tests they were running. She mentioned an EKG, a CAT scan, some blood work and that was all she knew at that point. She said the Cedar doctors were thinking about sending him down here to the St. George hospital to see a specialist and possibly a neurologist. I told her that she should do that. We have a great hospital, and I could be close to help and she could go home and rest.

They decided to transport him on Thursday to the hospital. I had missed a lot of work and went in Thursday for half of the day. I went home to lay down and waited for her to call to say they were on their way. She called around 4:30 and said they would be at the rehabilitation center in 20 minutes. I asked her why she was having him brought to a care center and not to the hospital, and she said that he was very tired and needed to rest. I was confused and asked why again. I let it go and waited at the center for him to show up. I was in his room talking to his wife when he showed up from the ambulance transport. 

He looked terrible, he looked like he'd had a stroke! He was incoherent and was not responding to his name. He couldn't move his legs or speak! He looked dehydrated as well. I was in total shock. I wasn't ready for the way he looked at ALL!! I asked her what the test results were, but I never got a real answer from her. She wouldn't answer any of my questions or concerns. I was so worried, but I let it go. I said tomorrow he will go to the hospital, and we will get this all figured out. By then it was 8pm and visiting hours were over.

I had to go to work on Friday. I called his wife that morning and asked when he would be moved to the hospital. She said he wouldn't be, that he didn't want to get poked anymore. I began to yell, "He can’t talk, so how did he say that?!" I asked her what his doctor’s name was I could call him. She said that he didn't have a doctor. She kept throwing around the words "Power of Attorney." I wasn't clear of what that meant nor did I care. I yelled louder that he was very sick and needed to go to the emergency room. I told her that I would call my family doctor and see if he would go over and see him.

I called my doctor's nurse and explained how Dad looked. I told her about the Cedar E.R. and asked her to please ask the doctor to go see him. She was very nice and said she would explain the situation and call me back. I then left work and went to the rehab center. 

I walked in and the wife's son was feeding Dad some soup. I was happy about the soup and asked if he was awake. The son said he would take some soup, but he was not awake or responsive. I told him that we needed to take Dad to the emergency room, and the son agreed. I walked down to the nurses’ station and told them to call the ambulance and to have dad sent to the emergency room. She told me she couldn't without the wife's approval. I said, "Okay," and asked the nurse to call her. I went back down to the room and the nurse came a bit later and said the wife is refusing to give the okay to send him to the E.R. I FLIPPED out!!! I asked why. The nurse said that my dad's wife had Power of Attorney and that is what had to be. I couldn't get any more information after that. It was disheartening, and I was confused.

I told her son to talk to her when she came back to see Dad that day, I left and went back to work. My family doctor called me back a bit after 2pm and said that he reviewed all of Larry’s (my dad) Cedar records and that it was way beyond anything he could do. He said he couldn't help with dad and his recommendation is exactly what the Cedar City hospital’s recommendation was--to send him to the specialist and hospital in St George. I told him thank you. 

I went back to the rehab center after being at work until 8 that night. I asked the nurses all kinds of questions. They didn't know why my dad was there or when a doctor was coming to tell them what to do. I asked for information about his tests and what he was being treated for, but because of HIPAA, they wouldn't give me anything. Because of the Power of Attorney, only his wife could make the decisions.

I came home and cried to my husband. We talked and talked about what to do...Tyler called Adult Protective Services that night. It all felt so wrong. I was sick and felt helpless.

Saturday morning, my children and I drove to watch my son play his first football game of the season. Afterward we went to see dad. He was looking horrible. He was so dehydrated and so far beyond what should have been left untreated. Tyler walked out to the nurses’ station again to ask for more information. I chose not to bring anything up 
with my dad's wife in front of the children.

I had never felt so much anger and hatred in my life. We left because I could see my children having a hard time. I told the wife I would be back at 5pm.

When I came back, I asked the CNA if he had eaten or drunk at lunch or at dinner. She said that the wife said he had but that she could not find the dinner tray. She was looking for it right then. I asked her to please send in the nurse so I could speak to her. It was a good half hour until his nurse came into the room. I told her the story about the last week and begged her to please help me get him to the emergency room. 

She was new for that night and came up with a plan to sway his wife to take him to the E.R. I told her not to mention my name or involvement and that she might get somewhere. She called the wife and explained that Larry was new to her as a patient and that she was worried for his life. He wasn't hydrated or responsive to her and she felt he needed to go to the hospital. 

The nurse came back into dad’s room and said that the wife was livid with her. The wife said that he was NOT to go to the hospital and she was on her way down to the care center. The nurse informed me that the wife was really, really angry with me.

My dad's wife came into the room and began telling me again that she had Power of Attorney, and Dad didn't want to go to the hospital. I was very frank with her and explained that she wasn't doing the right thing, that Dad didn't want to lay in a bed with no food or water or medication before he was to pass. I begged her to take him. I begged her to tell me what was wrong with him, but she said nothing but those same 3 words (Power Of Attorney). She left the room and went to talk to the nurse. I looked at Dad and knew something had to be done, and soon. He was going to die, and I felt deep in my heart that I needed to do something--anything!

I walked out to where the wife and the nurse were conversing. I very loudly said that Dad needed to go to the emergency room and that she was killing him. She smacked me and told me that I was disrespectful and that it was her choice of what to do with Dad. I told her that she needed to let me take care of him and that she needed to go. She smacked me twice more in front of the nurses, CNA's and other patients. I left.

I called my husband from the car and told him we needed to take dad. We made the plan to come back that night after visiting hours and wheel him out. I felt confident that this would be the only way to save his life.

Some of my brothers and sisters were coming the following day from out of town to see dad and talk to the wife, but I knew there was no talking her into anything, even when hearing it from multiple family members. She, in my opinion, had already made up her mind about Dad.

We came back at 9pm and met the nurse halfway down the hall. She spoke with us and said she was so sorry that she couldn't do anything. Her hands were tied legally because of the POWER OF ATTORNEY. She then proceeded to tell me what she thought of the wife and asked if I was hurt earlier from the smackings. I told her I wasn't. She also said the wife was staying the night in Dad's room. I was upset, and we had no choice but to leave.

Sunday, September 15, I didn't go to see dad. I felt defeated and too emotionally drained to fight with the wife and her son about Dad. About 5pm that day, my oldest sister called me and asked how Dad was doing. I told her I hadn't been that day; I wasn't up to fighting with the wife. She said that my older brother had been there all day and that the wife hadn't been there at all. 

I jumped into my car and raced over to the care center. (Now let me explain, when I say race, I was really flying! Law breakin' speed). This was going to be my last and only chance to get dad and take him to the emergency room. I got there and saw my oldest, strongest, most crazy fun brother in tears outside by his motorcycle. He was at a loss. He didn't understand. I told him my plan. He asked me questions about being arrested for kidnapping and legal things. To be honest, I was scared. 

I told my older brother I didn't know what to do. I called my husband at work and asked him what to do. He gave me comfort but no real answer. He said I would know what to do. My older brother and I decided to walk into to the care center and go see dad.

We walked to his room but he wasn't there. We walked to the nurses’ station. The nurse there said they were in the dining room. (Back ground: I worked at this particular facility 15 or so years ago. There is a nursing home side and a rehabilitation side. The rehab side is for broken hips, legs, etc. Individuals are still able to feed themselves, use the restroom, and usually speak for themselves. There are speech therapists there for stoke victims to help them speak clearly. Nurses don’t feed or medicate without doctors’ orders. Dad had no orders that any nurse or nurse's aide would tell me about.)

When I saw my dad at the table, he was hunched over and about to fall out of his wheel chair. The CNA was trying to wake him up. I could hear her saying, “Larry wake up." I looked at her and said it was okay, I would take him back to his room. She said he had been sleeping all through dinner. I told her that was okay, I would take him. I looked at my older brother, and he knew I was going to go through with it.

As we were wheeling Dad out of the dining room, I told my older brother to leave. I told him that I would be the only one to get into trouble. He needed to go home. I could tell he was having mixed feelings, but he kept Dad long enough for me to run and pull my car around. 
He left, and I put Dad into my car and pulled out. 

I called 9-1-1 from my cell and told them that my dad was incoherent, his breathing was raspy, and he was unresponsive. My thinking was that if I called an ambulance, Dad would get into the emergency room faster than if I were to show up. In that case, we would wait in the waiting room for hours. I pulled into the mall parking lot and waited for the ambulance. 

Dispatch had me checking him--holding his head a certain way and counting his breaths. Police were the first to be on seen. Fire trucks and first responders showed up next, I was grateful for the three minutes it took them to show up. The ambulance was next. They got right to work on Dad, and I was never so happy in my whole life!

I want to explain to all of you that I lied to them. I felt this was the only way I could save my dad's life and find out what the matter was with him. I was terrified and relieved at the same time. I lied when they asked where we came from and who his wife was. I wasn’t NOT answering them, but I wasn’t telling them the truth. The police wanted information but I gave old info. I wanted Dad to have as much time with the emergency room and hospital before both the wife and the care center realized he was gone. I stole my dad. I don’t know how illegal that is, but I don’t care either. The ambulance left and I followed. 

I got to the E.R. waiting room and waited to be called back. I was so nervous; I thought cops were going to come take me away….

When I was called back, the doctor and staff were running IV’s (a beautiful sight to me. I was so grateful!) and meds and xrays. They questioned me on Dad's health history. I did my best to give them what they needed. I watched them work and work. I didn’t say anything for about an hour. I asked the doctor for a private conversation and a social worker as soon as possible.

I explained the last week to him. I told him that I was a kidnapper. I told him to run every test possible to find out what the matter with him. He told me that I had done the right thing and probably saved my dad's life. I explained that I might be arrested. He said he wouldn’t let that happen. He went right back to work on my dad. 

I stayed with him until the social worker came in. The social worker and I spoke for a long time. She was told every detail of what I saw, heard, and felt. She let security know that if the wife came she was to be escorted off the property. The social worker asked if there was a DNR or a POA. I lied about the POA and I had no idea about a DNR. I played dumb.( I was already a criminal so who cared, right?!)
I started to feel somewhat hopeful. 

With the saline, his color was coming back, and his face was filling out. He was put on a respirator and his oxygen saturation was back to normal levels! Test results were slow. The only thing I knew was that he was septic. They put medicine into his IV to help.


I will forever and always be grateful to the E.R. doctor and his staff. They worked so hard and so quickly. I will always have a thankful prayer for them. They were amazing and heroic. After a few hours in the emergency room, they send us to the intensive care unit.


The social worker stayed with me but felt she needed to have her boss on board, so she called her in. I had to meet with the ICU doctor, the social worker, and the social worker's boss to explain again what had happened for us to be there. The meeting wasn’t pleasant, but I understood it was necessary. They asked me questions, and once again, I told them that I didn’t want to answer some of them because I didn’t want them calling the wife. They promised they wouldn’t call her.

My husband left work at 9:30 that night and came over to be with me. We waited for any test results or for the doctor to give us any news, but because of HIPAA they gave us nothing but minimal information--things like his fever is down, his breathing is good, and his blood pressure is fine. He was starting to move his legs and hands. His pupils weren’t pin points anymore. He wasn’t responding yet, but I was feeling so confident that he could come back from whatever it was he was fighting!

I overheard 
a phone call the ICU doctor had taken from the emergency room doctor concerning my dad. I only got parts of it, but it sounded like the ER doctor wanted dad transferred back to his care. The intensive care unit doctor said that the legalities were making it so that he could not help dad anymore. I knew right then that the wife knew. It was all coming to an end too soon. She was going to pull rank (Power of Attorney) and stop his care.

At 10:30pm, the social worker and her boss came in and tole me that the wife was on her way. She was beyond angry and had the police coming with her. We were to be escorted from the hospital, and they would call us. I begged them to talk her into leaving him there. I BEGGED! I asked them to do whatever they could. I promised to stay away if she would leave him there to get better. They said they would call us with any news.

Tyler and I went to eat. I was starving. We then headed home for showers and bed. We got a call from the social worker at about 12:30am. She said the wife came and said to unplug him from everything. She was going to press charges against me. She told the doctor and both social workers that when my dad passed, she didn’t care which mortuary they called, and then she LEFT! She LEFT!!!!!! The social worker told me to come back and spend time with my dad. Tyler and I got dressed and went back to the intensive care unit.

Dad looked good, just sick. Bless those ICU nurses! They drug their feet for me. They were “busy” charting and making rounds. They just didn’t have the time to undo everything yet. Five hours they left him there with me. Five glorious hours of me begging him to wake up so he could talk to me and tell me that he wanted to stay in the hospital to get better. We prayed for him, we cried for him. I told Tyler funny stories about him. At about 6am, he was transferred into a patient room with orders for end-of-life comfort only. *Sigh* This meant she, the wife, had granted him a morphine drip in a small saline bag.

Monday, September 16th, I called my attorney at 8am. I explained everything. I told him that there was too much funny business and that I wasn’t on the Power of Attorney as an agent but that my oldest sister was. I hooked the two of them up via phone. They worked quickly to get as much information from the hospital and Dad's lawyer as they could. 

The Power of Attorney that the hospital had was missing four pages of important information. Both my sister and my lawyer were scrambling trying to figure out what was going on. It seems that, according to the paperwork that the wife gave the hospital, my oldest sister had been removed from the Power of Attorney in 2003. The attorney and hospital were hashing out legalities. We filed a motion with the court to take over Dad’s medical Power of Attorney.
We (me, my older brother, my aunt, and my husband) all had a meeting with the hospital administrators and social workers. We asked question after question. None were allowed to be answered. They legally could not. I knew we were losing the battle to save Dad.

We fought with the hospital, they did what they could, but because of the sole Power of Attorney, there was nothing we could do. Their hands were tied. I honestly feel, they would have done everything they could have to save Dad. 
We lost him at 6:00 pm that night. It was devastating.
  
I wrote this story to help anyone who might be tempted to appoint a sole person as his/her Power of Attorney. Please understand that with that, you MUST write a clause allowing the family to know the status of your medical diagnosis and all other medical information. I had no information and STILL have no information about my dad’s illness or cause of death. If I knew what had made him sick or how to help, or how NOT to have helped, I believe things would have ended differently. 

Larry and his grandson
I’m sad. I’m confused, and I need some peace. Our family needs closure. I pray you read this and realize that just some simple wording on a document can make a huge impact on your life and the lives of those who love you. Keep your family in mind. I have not written this to blame anyone, only in hopes of educating someone who might need it.

--Micah Hamm Whitehead

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

My Heaven-sent Birthday Present

I had been feeling the push to get out and exercise, so last year, for my birthday, I wanted only one thing....a Nike+ Sportband. #1 had one, and I thought it would be so much more encouraging to exercise if I was able to track my progress.

The birthday envelopes limit how extravagant a birthday can be, and I knew this, but that was the ONLY thing on my list.

If you're not aware of just what a Nike+ Sportband is, let me give you a quick illustration.....

image: sportshoes.com
It's basically a watch. You wear the band on your wrist, but there is a chip (I don't know what it's officially called, but for now that will do) that is oval-ish in shape. The chip needs to attach to your shoe in order to keep track of your workout.

image: reodeekay.wordpress.com
They have shoes in which you can place the chip. They have a little compartment under the insole in the actual sole of the shoe. You slide the chip in, and voila. You're ready to go. But, you can also place the chip in a little pouch you can purchase and attach it to your shoelaces.

When you leave on a run, or in my case a walk, you hold down the
button on the band. The chip tracks how far you've gone, how many calories you've burned, and other important information while you exercise.

When you return, you slip the actual watch unit from the band itself and slide the USB into your computer. It reads the information and reports it to you in the form of a graph. It also keeps track of such things as how many workouts you've done during time periods, how far you've gone altogether, and how fast you were moving during your workout.

image: watchreport.com

Can you blame me for wanting one of these?

Well, this was going to cost the entire birthday budget. I would just attach the chip to my shoelaces. That was the plan, but I have to be honest, I was fearful the chip would fall off, and I'd be unable to use the band anymore without going out and buying a replacement chip.

My birthday is in April. I told the Warden my desire in February. In early March, a friend approached me. She said she'd cleaned out her closet and found a number of pairs of shoes, some of which had never been worn. What shoe size was I, and would I be interested in the shoes?

Of course!

A few days later, she brought me a few pairs of brand new shoes. I pulled them out and tried them on. Among these was a pair of tennis shoes. With my goal to exercise, I was very happy for these.

When #1 got home from work that evening, I showed her the shoes I'd inherited. She turned them over and looked at the sole...."Mom, do you know what this means?" She pointed at a symbol on the bottom of the shoe.

It looked like this:

image: thestrengthinside.com

"These are shoes that are set up for a Sportband."

In other words, these shoes I had just so kindly been given had the spot in the sole for the chip. No WAY!

So, here I was awaiting my birthday and a VITAL part of using the only thing I wanted had just showed up. My friend had no clue what I had asked for for my birthday. After talking to her and thanking her for the shoes later on, I shared with her why these shoes were so significant. It turns out that she wasn't aware of just what that symbol meant or that these shoes had that capability.

I had received what I felt were gifts from heaven before. I think with this many chance occurrences that happen in my life, luck is no longer a practical reason for this kind of thing to happen. 

I got the idea that I wasn't the only one who wanted me exercising. 

We went out later and used the birthday budget. I've been exercising ever since.

Friday, August 9, 2013

Just Happy

image:
juliashinklephotography.com
My second daughter is turning 16 soon--actually, the first day of school. To avoid the first of school craziness, especially in an educator's family, we decided to have her "sweet 16" party tonight.

She wanted to have a murder mystery party. This is the third one we've done. My favorite, by far, was the one we did a couple years ago for our son. There were all kinds of extra activities you could do. One of the things the kids did was make up a rap. It was just so entertaining. I wish I could remember the company that produced that party. I'd buy from them again.




image: oregon.gov
This morning, before we went and prepared the last of the things for the party, #3 and I ran out to the DMV to get her permit. She was successful. While we were there, we ran into one of her good buddies from EFY who was also getting his permit. It was fun to sit and talk to his mom. It's funny how some people you can meet and feel like you could just sit and talk for hours? Well, that's how this was.

After we finished at the DMV, we ran to the mall to return a pair of jeans #3 had purchased. It was so fun being with #3. We went and got the food for the party and returned home.

image: photos.oregonlive.com
The Warden took the younger kids to dinner and to the park with the fountain. #5 stayed and played "servant boy" for the party. He did a nice job serving everyone.

Tomorrow night, my brother and his family fly into town. I'm so excited to see them and to get to spend some time with them.


So, here's tonight's list of things I'm grateful for:


  1. My kids' friends. They really do pick great people to hang out with. With some of my kids, I marvel at just how perfect their friends are for them--almost like they're hand-picked.
  2. The ability to drive and to have other drivers in our home. As I've been walking more and more
    in preparation for the race coming up, I'm learning how much I value my car. I drove #1's car with the top off this evening to take one of the girls home from the party. The sky was super gray, and I was pretty sure I was going to get a bit wet. Sure enough....just after I dropped her off, it started. It was funny, though, as I drove I didn't get wet at all. When I'd have to stop for a light, I'd feel a few drops on my forehead. I just tilted my head back and enjoyed the rain--just like a born and raised Oregon girl, I guess.
  3. My supportive husband. #3 and I were able to clean the house without little ones running around. It was great. I love that he will step up and do whatever's necessary to help all of the rest of us in our home be successful. What a great man!

Tonight, I'm wanting to write to #1 and tell her all about life. I'm so looking forward to hearing from her Sunday evening. I had a chance to chat with one of her friends who came to the party this evening. Made me not miss her quite as much.

I'm so glad my kids have such good friends, and I love having these people in my home. It was a really fun night.

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Sacrifices of an Oldest Child

I am grateful for migraine medication. I mean, truly, how would I have survived all these years without it? I would have missed out on SO many days with my kids.

Last night was the first night in years that I didn't medicate a migraine. I didn't medicate on purpose, and I have my reasons, but the experience has made me so grateful for what I've got by way of treatment.

I tracked #1 until about 8:45 last night. We'd had Family Home Evening, where we'd encouraged the kids in their summer scripture reading, and then skipped off to the pool for some swimming. I love that they love to go, but I was more grateful, last night, for the moment when they hopped out. I was SO ready to go home.

I came home and curled up on my bed. One of the kids brought me an ice pack, and I put it on the base of my skull. I had forgotten that you can actually feel, with your hand, where the headache is. I had a couple of the kids "feel" my headache. It's kind of impressive, actually.

The Warden called the kids to family prayer and scripture study, and I, feeling a twinge of guilt at the bad example I was setting by not being there, didn't go. I fell asleep, which was a very good thing to do under the circumstances.

When the Warden came to bed, he announced: "She arrived in Tokyo." I mumbled my approval and fell back asleep immediately, head still throbbing.

I woke three different times during the night; each time, wondering if she'd arrived yet. Then, I looked out the window and realized it was too dark to be 6 or 7, so I went back to sleep.

Just a bit ago now, at 5am, I finally opened the computer to look at the tracker. She had an hour and six minutes left.

I posted that fact on Facebook and had an almost immediate comment from a dear friend who served in the Manila Mission a number of years ago. I loved her response. For me, back in those days, the final destination was four hours prior to hers. I was able to get off in Tokyo and have a short flight to my mission in Sendai. My journey was over. I can't even imagine that extra time. I asked my friend what she was experiencing when she landed. Here's what she said:

"I remember feeling gross, sweaty sticky exhausted from the flight, getting off the plane was scary everything was moving so fast I couldn't understand one thing after feeling like I had a little bit of skill from 9 weeks in the MTC we had to stand in lines checking all our documents and waiting for luggage it was just so strange not knowing anything that was happening. I don't even remember who helped us ! Then AP's showed up and we drove to the mission home q will have quite the experience hopping in a jeepny!"


I can't even imagine this world where my daughter will serve. An experience of a lifetime!

You know, sometimes you step back and take a moment to look at your kids not as your kids but as human beings, and honestly, they never cease to amaze me. #1, by nature, is so like her dad--mellow and go-with-the-flow. They somehow instinctively know that there is a greater power in charge and because of that, there is little need to worry. At least, that's what I've finally deduced. It's not that either of them have verbalized that fact, it's just that that's how it seems. That is what I expect will carry her through many of the things she will see, feel, and experience.

The idea that #1 knew what kind of place she was going is somewhat miraculous to me. I mean, of course, she knew she was going to the Philippines, but how would she know what that really meant? I'm sure she didn't and many surprises lie ahead, but how simply she packed and left behind things she used on a daily basis here, surprised and impressed me. No contacts, no make up, simple clothing....She's there to get down and dirty and get to work loving the Filipino people. Somehow, she knows exactly what she's getting into. Wow! I didn't know that this what I was raising--a girl who can leave it all behind to serve the Lord and His children.

I'm so excited to see what comes next. From what I understand from others, there should be an email with a photo from the Mission office after she arrives. I'm not really expecting that until the middle of the night, but is there really any question of me stalking my inbox today?

The headache hangs like a halo around my head this morning....Threatening to return at any bad move on my part. Such is the nature of migraines, but today, I will medicate. It's going to be a good day.

She arrives in eight minutes.


Saturday, July 20, 2013

#1's Weekly Email: Week #5


It's so funny to see #1 in jeans, as you'll see in her first picture. It is only on their Preparation Day (P-day) that they can move away from the usual dresses and skirts and Elders from suits.

Needless to say, these girls are EXCITED. They are now the oldest missionaries heading to their mission in the MTC. It's funny to think that somewhere in the Olongapo Mission some sister will be called to be #1's first companion. I really wonder what she'll be like. It used to be, from what I understand, that the North American missionaries had to have native companions. I'm curious to see if that's still the case.

I now get photos from Sister T. and Sister P., so that's super great! I love that they so willingly share. #1 did, however, take her own photos this week. She was lacking a card reader. There you go, parents who are preparing to send missionaries off in the future, don't forget a card reader that they can hook into the computers there at the MTC and upload their photos. I ordered her one and had it shipped to her, and now life is hunky dory.

Okay, so I put the most important things in bold lettering so you can cruise through this email if you don't have time to peruse its intricacies. The foreign words are in italics and are translated at the very bottom of the post.

 Here you go....

Enjoy!










Kumusta mga Pamilya ko!

How are you guys? Life here is just plain awesome. Wanna know why?! I got my travel plans!

We're flying from Salt Lake to San Fran to TOKYO! :D We get to spend TWO hours in TOKYO! I'M SO EXCITED! I'm going back to Japan :) Seriously I'm overjoyed. I'm gonna go eat a bunch of jumbos and a bunch of their chocolate bars and yup. That's how it's gonna be.

So on Tuesday, all the girls in my district played the funniest prank on my kasama. It was PERPEKTO. Sister W. pulled her shirt halfway over her own head and had her super long hair hanging out of the bottom and it looked like she had a beard. She makes the funniest faces ever. So while my kasama was in the shower, she went and sat on her bed and got under the covers. She was sitting on Sister T's pillow and was hiding behind the closet door. We turned off all the lights and sat by the door at the desk with the desk light on. Sister T finally showed up and put her clothes away and then turned to her bed. She kind of looked at the head of her bed for a second and then Sister W. chuckled and Sister T. jumped back a foot and then screamed. It was the Funniest Thing I have seen in such a long time.  Oh man I'm still laughing about it and it was days ago.

The other night we wanted to talk so Sister P., Sister S., Sister T., and I went out behind the MTC and talked and stargazed. It was awesome. We almost felt normal again for a second.

We're learning so much. We've kind of started reviewing things since we only have 9 days left here. It's crazy to think that we've already been here for a month. It totally flew by.

Every day we either have gym time where we go work our butt off or we go play piano.

Oh, I'll be buying a calling card and I'm gonna call you guys in when we're at the Salt Lake airport so be sure to be home on the 29th in the morning. At like 9-ish. Our flight leaves around 11:15.

I'll be sending home stuff I don't want to take to the Philippines with me this next week, ok? So if you get a package from me, that's what it is.

Our whole district gets to host the newbies this next Wednesday and Sister P. and Sister S. and Sister T. and I were chosen to be part of this teaching experience that they do ever Wednesday night for the newbies. They put all the newbies in different rooms but in huge groups and they have an "investigator" in there (they're really just converts that have interesting stories) and then a companionship comes in and starts the discussion with the "investigators" and then the newbies take over. It's gonna be awesome. And all the companionships that are chosen are recommended by their teachers. So that means that our teachers like us a lot and think that we'd be good examples for the new missionaries. No pressure or anything. Oh and another thing. We get to do it in English... pero we've only ever taught in Tagalog so we don't know how to do it in English! hahaha we'll see what happens. It's gonna be so fun.

Earlier this week some of the sisters and I got priesthood blessings from our elders. i'm so grateful that we're surrounded by the priesthood here. it's awesome. And that all these elders are worthy to hold it is pretty incredible too.

Ummm I think that's it. I'm definitely gonna write #5 this week and I might send him a t-shirt too (don't tell him that). When the email home to you said that "[T.] pointed [#4] out" or whatever it said, I was about to go all crazy white girl on T. hahaha good thing I didn't. Um you don't need to send cookies. I've got enough food over here... But if you could send me a jar of nutella and a box of cheezits I would love that. I think that's everything.

I love you guys and I miss you and I hope everything's going good at home.

Mahal kita!
-Sister Hess


p.s. I'll send you pictures of everything. Including our classroom, the drinking fountain in our building, and the bathroom.


Top left to bottom right (in #1's own words):

TOP ROW:
  • Classroom: This is the room that I've been stuck in everyday for the last MONTH.
  • Mga dink: One of our zone leaders favorite words is Dink. he calls us dinks all the time...
  • Desks: These are mine and Sister T.'s desks.
  • Birthday!: It was Sister P.'s birthday this last week. and behind the banner is the first vision and our purpose in Tagalog.

MIDDLE ROW:
  • Air con: This is the air conditioning unit in our classroom. Every single day, I stand on my chair and close the vent cuz it's so freaking cold and my chair's right next to it....
  • View: This is the view from our window. the sunsets are absolutely amazing here every single night.
  • Hallway: This is the hallway right outside of our bathroom.
  • Stairwell: This is the stairwell right outside of our hallway. We study here all the time, and it was out this window that Sister P and I saw President Monson :)

BOTTOM ROW:
  • Drinking fountain!: This is our drinking fountain :)
  • Bathroom: This is the bathroom in our building :) You said you wanted pictures of everything...
  • Computer: This is the computer and tv that we use everyday in class.
  • Computer lab: This is the computer lab where we do TALL (our language computer program. I absolutely hate it)


Tagalog-English Translation
Kumusta mga Pamilya ko: Hello, my family
Kasama: companion
Perpekto: perfect (probably didn't need to translate this one, huh?)
Mahal kita: I love you




Okay, I HAVE to share one more thing with you.....Today, among the photos #1 sent was this:


The caption read something like this:

"Our building is named after this cutie. His name is Heber C. Kimball, and this is his picture. Hehe"


Oh, my dear girl! This is the one leader of the early Church that you are, from what I understand, related to. "Hehe" is right.

Like it? Share it....

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