Ten Years Later

My post for 9/11 was about my experience of that day in 2001.

Now let me tell you about my experience of that day 10 years later, for it is a tale worth telling.

Our pastor started our church service this morning with a few words of remembrance, etc. Out of the blue -- to me -- he asked my Tim to pray for our armed forces. Right after that, the music team (including me) got up to lead worship.

About the second of the four songs, I noticed that Number 7's face -- down in the congregation -- was red and it looked as though he was upset. During the music, I glanced over a time or two, saw him leave the room and come back again, and saw his father cradle our boy's head in his shoulder. Somehow, though, I wasn't losing my focus (thank you, God!). But I was somewhat concerned.

In the fourth song, I suddenly saw Tim and Number 7 walking up toward us at the front of the room. Tim motioned me to stop. Musician that I am, I made him wait until I'd finished the line we were on, and then we all came to a halt. I watched, not alarmed, but wondering.

Number 7 turned toward me and my concern was all for him at that moment. I hugged him hard and then listened in utter amazement as my strong, stoic husband announced, in a voice cracked with emotion, that our second son had just touched down on American soil after a year of deployment in Iraq.

And then we all sobbed. And cheered. And our wonderful church family sobbed and cheered along with us.

During the sermon, the pastor let us in on an important God-moment of the day -- he usually asks our sound-guy (my beloved Sammy) to pray for the armed forces whenever that is appropriate or desired as something special in our church service. This morning, our pastor felt that Sammy was not the right choice for today, and when he (our pastor) walked past Tim in the outer room, he felt God saying, "That's the one." So he asked Tim. And just about the time Tim sat down after praying, he received the text from our son that he was on U.S. soil.

We all shed tears of great happiness on a day of such sad remembrance. The irony was not lost on us -- our boy came home safe and alive on a day when so many lost their lives in the years since 9/1/2001.

We do not forget those who will never come home again. But today we are grinning from ear to ear and we are so very, very grateful for God's mercy.
 
- Catherine

Just to give you something to look at

I've been in Canada this weekend, visiting my daughter (Number 4), her fiance (Number 4.5-to-be) and his family.  4.5-to-be's family live in one of the Toronto 'burbs, in a lovely house on a quiet street. They have been perfect hosts and it's been a terrific visit.

Because this is my first trip to the area, we spent the better part of one day of my visit in the city of Toronto, walking around, seeing the Christmas decorations, and drinking coffee from "Timmy's." (That's Tim Horton's for those of you non-Canadians).

Here is my favorite (favourite) picture from that day.

More to come!

- Catherine

Nothing random about today

Don and his wife, Balin

One last look and goodbye.

Falling in, shortly before the order for "Attention!" As they marched off to the plane, many turned to wave at the top of the loading stairs.

Meet Number 2, my stepson Donald.

We'll be praying every day for the next 365 days for his safe return from Iraq.

- Catherine

She always knows

I don't blog much about my stepchildren, mostly because I don't want to invade their privacy.

Four (Numbers 1, 2, 3, and 5) are grown and married, with children of their own.

Number 6 isn't home much.

Number 7 remains fair game for blog posts, though -- because he still lives at home.  He's okay with that.

Today's blog is about Number 3 -- my inherited daughter, Jen.

When Tim and I first began our long-distance relationship, Jen was about 16 years old and something of a wild child. After Tim and I had been married for a couple of years, I accepted a job-related move to Salt Lake City, and Jen moved in with me so that she could attend Massage Therapy School in SLC. She distinguished herself in her course work -- and she is still my favorite massage therapist.

She saved me from total depression that year she spent with me, because after moving across the country, I really needed someone to look after and be with.  I was and am very grateful for her company that year.

Subsequent years were rocky at times while Jen found her way in the world. She is a very empathic person and sometimes that has resulted in a lot of hurt for her.

That empathy, though, is a gift of grace with which she has ministered to me on many occasions. She always seems to sense when I need a connection, and she always comes through.

For example, despite being married to Tim for 10 years now, I can still get a feeling of disorientation in large family gatherings -- where I feel like the outsider from the East Coast, as though I don't have an "official" place in the family. Jen always knows. She says it shows on my face but I don't know what that looks like. No one else seems to notice it.

But Jen does, and in love and grace, she will come over and simply hug me for a moment.  That connection restores me in a way that is truly a gift from God.

She knows

And I am so very grateful for that gift.

- Catherine

The Fair is starting on Saturday

18 gallons of tartar sauce.

Tartar sauce is a huge mess because it can only be ladled in to the jar by the "glop-full."

20 gallons of fry sauce.

This is about 3.5 gallons of fry sauce (a mixture of ketchup, mayo, and horseradish)

12 tubs of cocktail sauce

My sister-in-law making yet another tub of cocktail sauce.

13 pounds of cream cheese spread.

I don't have a picture of that, but suffice it to say that it's as messy as anything else, and, ultimately, as delicious. The recipe comprises cream cheese, heavy cream, onion powder and dill weed.

The booth will be inspected today for health, electrical and I don't know what else.

And then we'll be up and running!

- Catherine

Twenty six years ago

Twenty six years ago tonight -- a sultry August night typical of the East Coast -- I was sitting with my (then) husband Bob in JFK airport.  Next to me sat my fully-stocked diaper bag complete with a bottle of soy formula.  But no baby. Sitting right behind us we spied another couple with a similarly stocked diaper bag -- and no baby.

We greeted each other -- sure enough, we were all waiting for the time when we would be ushered into a deserted gate in the terminal, in preparation for the delivery of our babies.

That's right, my baby daughter was delivered in a gate at JFK airport.

She was delivered by a chaperone who carried her off the plane that had brought some thirty babies all the way from South Korea.

Prior to the delivery, I'd been pacing the floor, talking to one of the other mothers-to-be. Suddenly the babies appeared through the door from the jetway, and sixty parents converged on the group.  Each baby had an armband identifying him/her by name together with the name of the new parents.  I'd have known her anywhere already, though, because I'd spent many hours looking at the two photographs that we'd been sent since her birth in May. 

Abbi had been named Eun Hee Kim at her birth.

Abbi came off the plane grinning the irresistible toothless grin of a three-month old. She was instantly delighted with us and we with her.

And we've been delighted ever since.

Abbi, about 15 years old, appearing in the Nutcracker.

Summer 2010 in the mountains of Utah.

Happy Anniversary, Abbi!

Love,
Mama

Slacker blogger yet again

I have been a slacker yet again. My last post was just a few lines of update, and that's about all I have for today, too.

It's been a busy week in our household. I'm starting into the time of year when my work schedule is heaviest and there are many balls to juggle in the air.

One of the dear ladies of our church went home to be with her Lord unexpectedly and we had a funeral luncheon to prepare yesterday. As always, we're glad she's gone home to Paradise, but we sure will miss her here.

I've been savoring the time to talk and talk and talk with my daughter (#4, that is). It's wonderful to have her here and to be together again, even if just for a little while. She leaves for New Jersey, where her father lives, on March 30, but she'll be back with us for the month of June and part of July again. After that... well, we'll see....

#7 has gone on a much-anticipated Spring Break trip to the Midwest with his mother and stepdad. Not only will he visit with family while out there, but he'll be playing with his school basketball team in the national championships in Indianapolis! To say that he is excited about this trip would be an understatement. His team won two regional tournaments this winter and their hard work during the season earned them a berth in the nationals. Go Royals!

Have a great weekend!

- Catherine

#4 is home

Wa-hoo!!!  #4 -- daughter Abbi -- is home for the next two weeks.

I haven't seen her since last August.

So I am a very, very, VERY happy camper!

Pictures to come!

- Catherine

Friday's Fave Five

Thanks once again to Susanne at Living to Tell for hosting this weekly attitude adjuster. If you'd like to play along, you can link up at Susanne's blog entry for today.

These are my five favorite things about the week that is now ending.

Drum roll, please......

1.  31 days until I get a hug from #4 (who has been in South Korea for the last 2 1/2 years).

2. #4 has been accepted to graduate school at the University of Utah in Salt Lake City -- a mere 2 1/2 hours away from where we live!  (True, I don't yet know if she will decide to accept their offer, but it's nice to think that she might!)

3. A fun Super Bowl Sunday with #7 and his friends, and having the opportunity to meet his friends' parents and get to know them. They are good folk and we hope to see them again soon.

4. I received a blog award from Angie!

5. Finally solved the Restless Leg Syndrome problem that has been completely plaguing me for the last 3 weeks! And it's all thanks to the nice lady in the video. Turns out the particular workout that I've chosen from her series is perfect to do before bedtime.  It works the muscles of the back, the core and the legs, thus quieting the Restless Leg problem for the night. Yay!  And thanks, Teresa Tapp!  (Once again, let me emphasize that I have no financial interest in the T-Tapp company.)

That's the Friday Fave Five. What about you?

- Catherine

The Flexible Flyer

It was a long driveway, and my grandfather obligingly lifted the plow about an inch higher so that we'd have packed snow for sledding. We were two kids, brother and sister, out for the most fun we could have on a snowy day -- whipping down the driveway on our old Flexible Flyer. This remains one of my fondest memories from childhood: those snowy rides down the driveway, around the curve and into the parking area by our house.

I searched the web this morning and actually found a website entirely devoted to old sleds, most notably the Flexible Flyers. According to this website, ours was probably from the Class C series of the 1930s. It had belonged to my Uncle Norman when he was a teenager, and it had made its sturdy way down to us kids in the 1960s, still a formidable and fast sled.

In fact, it looked very much like this one:

 

When we were very young, my mother had to go out and push us (poor woman!). As we grew older, we mastered the art of running with the sled and then "belly-flopping" onto it for the rest of the ride.  It was an art to know exactly when to stop running and hit the sled for the maximum ride. And we mastered it, believe me.

When I was about 8, my father purchased a new Flexible Flyer for me to use, so that we'd have two sleds and wouldn't quarrel so often.  The one Dad bought me was a little bit smaller than our old one and it was NEVER as fast as the 1930s model, not by a long shot.  Eventually my brother was forced to go back to taking turns with me so that I could have some of the good sled rides, too. He wasn't too happy. I think I may have to remind him of that when I next talk to him. (The little sister in me never quite goes away, you know...)

I haven't seen a Flexible Flyer in years, I think. Nowadays the kids whoosh down hills with entirely different styles of sleds - no metal runners. If the snow surface on the hill is icy enough, they can get the same kind of ride that we kids did with our FF on our packed down driveway. And without runners, it's probably a safer sport. I remember my mother being very strict about us staying out of the way if we weren't the person on the sled.

But I wouldn't trade my Flexible Flyer snow day memories for anything, believe me.

- Catherine

In memory of...

My Dad died three years ago today, after a sudden and unexpected illness. I was glad to be there, and it was only by the grace of God that I was. I live in Idaho. Dad lived in New Jersey. I happened to be in Washington DC for a conference when he was taken ill, so I changed my return flight and hopped a train for NJ.

I knew when I walked into his hospital room that he was close to the end of his life here on earth. He looked just like his father had right before passing; his eyes were wild and his movements very restless. Dad was in tremendous pain from what the doctors would later -- indeed, too late -- find was a perforated ulcer. He died five days after I arrived. Happily he was still a little bit lucid when I got there, and he knew I had come. And that was the last day he wasn't heavily sedated.

I didn't know my dad very well, actually. When I was born, he didn't know what to do with a daughter. My mother said he refused to hold me because I was so tiny that he was afraid. He never really got the hang of having a girl, I think.

My father had his share of shortcomings, but one thing I recognize now and appreciate very much is that he was a gentleman. He opened doors for the women in his life. He had a temper, but his everyday speech (except for the occasional "damn" or "hell") was moderate. He never made sexual allusions about anything. He never told dirty jokes. There are few men who are made in that same mold these days.

He liked to fix things and could often be found at his worktable in the cellar or the garage. He also liked to create things -- usually solutions to problems. He made countless electric lamps out of old oil lamps - and he didn't use a kit to do it. And I really wish I still had the lap desks that he made for my brother and me when we were kids. We lived in a very small house and we wanted to be able to do our homework somewhere other than the kitchen table -- but there was no room for a desk in either of our bedrooms. So Dad went downstairs to his workbench and created wooden lap desks that were beautifully stained and varnished. I had mine for many, many years, but it finally disappeared in one of my moves, sadly.

I miss Dad even more now than I did at the time he passed. There are many questions I wish I could ask him. I look forward to seeing him again someday.

Still remembering you, Dad.

- Catherine

Birds of a feather

My husband handed me his favorite down vest the other day, wondering if it could be washed. This vest, which I purchased about 8 years ago, has been a total work horse. Tim wears it whenever he's working on a construction project in cold weather, and his love for this vest shows, believe me -- because it's covered with paint stains, bits of glue, and much, much sawdust.

I put it in the washing machine, using the delicate cycle recommended on the label. Then I put it in the dryer on very low.

I forgot to check if there were holes in it before I did any of the above.

You guessed it.

Down and feathers everywhere! And I don't know how long it will be before I finally get all of it out of the washer and dryer. Every time I open one of the machines, it looks like something inside is molting.

The vest, by the way, is a shadow of its former puffy self.

My husband hasn't seen it yet.

I may never show it to him because I think he might cry.

- Catherine

It's Friday.. by the numbers

I usually do the Friday Fave Five, but I have been completely off schedule today and I never got to it.

So, here are some random things:

I have an unscheduled weekend ahead of me. Ye-es!!!

Tonight #7 is going over to a friend's house for a couple of hours, so Tim and I will hit Costco for the monthly visit to get necessities in bulk.

#7 will turn 14 in the upcoming week! He was just 4 years old when I married his Dad.

I got to have coffee this morning with #3 and her daughter, and that is always fun.

#4 will be back on the North American continent (for good!) in just 30 days. Yeah!

The dog (I guess he's #8, technically speaking) keeps wanting to visit those two hoodlum bulldogs that live three blocks down from us, despite the fact that they threaten to tear him limb from limb whenever he sets foot in their alley.

Have a great weekend!

- Catherine

Christmas Lights

My evening walks this time of year are made much more enjoyable by the Christmas lights that so many have put up in and around their houses. And one of my favorite Christmas memories from childhood is driving around our town and neighboring towns to see the annual displays. We're talking 1960s here, so outdoor Christmas light displays were nowhere near as widespread or elaborate as they are now. It was really a treat because the lights were so beautiful -- like a fairyland -- to our young eyes. (Remember, we didn't have video games or even color TV in those days!)

Gasoline was cheap back then, so this was an inexpensive Christmas entertainment that my parents could provide for us kids.

I remember very few of the displays in particular now, but there is one that stands out in my memory and always will: Fritz Mueller's home in Sea Girt, NJ. My father always saved that for last because it was the grandest by far!

The Mueller house had a long, white colonnade that led from the main house to a summer gazebo. From one end of the ornate colonnade to the other they placed a large, lighted display of Santa and his reindeer. The figures, one per section of the colonnade, were expertly painted to depict a lively St. Nick and a team of joyful reindeer. The most exciting part, though was this: each reindeer moved! (Remember, this is the 1960s!) The up and down motion of each reindeer made them look as though they were leaping forward, pulling Santa's sleigh merrily along. I can promise you that ours was not the only car driving slowly by, children pressed up against the windows, eyes wide with wonder.

I have seen many displays since then -- many that are more lavish than the Mueller house of the 1960s. But none have stayed in my memory the way this one has.

Fast forward to 2009 and I have a new memory of Christmas lights to treasure. Last night we got together for a Christmas celebration with our kids (well, all except Abbi, who is still in Korea). Around 8:00 p.m. all 20(!) of us donned parkas and gloves and trooped 2 1/2 blocks to see a light display that is set to music. The sequence starts with Amazing Grace and moves along through a medley of Christmas songs broadcast on a local radio station. It's really quite something to see in person (I've seen a youtube video that is more elaborate, but the experience is much better in real life). Along with the lights on the house, the homeowners constructed an archway of colored lights along the sidewalk in front of the house. It was a little bit like standing in a fairyland.

Best of all, though, was sharing it with our family, especially the eight grandkids (whose eyes were pretty wide with wonder).

- Catherine

Togetherness and TV

Our house has numerous TVs -- one in the living room, two(!) in the family room, one in the bedroom of our youngest (#7 in the birth order). If I had my druthers, there would be no TV in the living room, but I can't get that notion past committee, so the largest TV (of course) is in the living room. The drafty, cold living room.

I much prefer sitting in our snug family room with the gas fire, especially when the weather is below zero, as it was last week.

But the TV in the family room was a relic from when I lived alone and it was too small for my husband to see when we sat together on the couch. Truthfully, it WAS annoying to watch a movie or a football game, even to me with my 20/15 vision. So, Tim would opt to watch TV upstairs in the drafty living room and I would be downstairs, preferring a warm fire to a larger TV screen.

In other words, we had a TV separation.

And I started to hate that. The few times that I could lure him to the family room were a real treat for me. #7 would be playing his video games, lying on the floor in front of the room's second TV and his dad and I could snuggle up on the couch to watch a TV show or movie. Family togetherness in the family room. That's what it's all about, right?

I realized that if we were going to get together in our TV watching, we'd have to have a TV that Tim could actually see well enough to enjoy. I started watching the sales and, low and behold, the flatscreen TV prices have started coming down. Couple that with the pre-Christmas sales and there were some good deals to be had this past Saturday.

I dragged both Tim and #7 out the door Saturday morning, promising #7 a lunch at Five Guys Burgers and Fries. Two stores later, we were the proud owners of a 32" flatscreen TV. By that afternoon we were watching a movie. Together. In the family room. What a concept.

I love the TV, I must say -- I can't get over how clear and bright the picture is, even with an old movie (I made them watch White Christmas with me before they moved on to Public Enemy).

Last night's TV viewing selection was the NFL football game. No drafty living room this time! A warm fire, a great picture, and a snuggle on the couch with my man. Now that's living.

Decorating 2009

I discovered something this year about decorating the tree, and it is this: if you are the only one who is going to actually enjoy the process, you should do it on your own. Honestly, by the time we were done, I was more than a little irritated with my menfolk. If it wasn't the texting of the son, it was the whining of the husband about the decorations.

Enough!

Next year, I either borrow a few young children who will enjoy it with me or I do it myself.

Fair warning, men of the Giesbrecht household!

- Catherine

Thanksgiving Weekend 2009

I think a list is the only way to describe what I've been up to for the past four days.

1. Thanksgiving Day -- about 80 people and a ton or so of excellent food. Oh, and the family football game played in cold but beautiful weather.

2. Preparations for my sister-in-law's wedding. Tim's five sisters put together a beautiful wedding, from the flowers to the food to Luci's dress. I was a willing worker bee, but we soon discovered that making corsages is not my forté. Instead, I went to work on the food platters, and that was a much better venue for my.... ahem... skills.

3. Shopping at 5:00 a.m. on Friday -- not necessarily because I wanted to, but because my usual insomnia had me up at 4:00 and I thought to myself, why not? As it turns out I scored two pre-lit artificial trees that my sister-in-law had hoped to add to her wedding backdrop (for a measly $30 each), plus some very nice silk poinsettias, also for the wedding, at 50% off. Skipping Wal-Mart, I opted instead for Fred Meyers, a store that is similar to Target (we don't have a Target -- we just have Freddie's). Everyone was very nice as we stood in line outside and chatted. Inside, the employees were terrific and the customers very civilized. I headed for Joann's Fabric Store from there, in time for their 6:00 a.m. opening. People RAN into that store, and it wasn't until I got inside myself that I found out why -- the Cricut (a cutting machine for crafters) was on sale for $75. Fortunately, I already own one of those. The other reason folks ran into Joann's was because fabric was deeply discounted for the morning only -- a very large variety of fabric was marked down to something like $1.00 per yard for the first six hours of Friday morning. I was very glad I didn't have to stand in line for fabric cutting - it snaked around the inside of the store.

4. The wedding was beautiful and went off nearly perfectly. My sisters-in-law outdid themselves, I think.

The bride and groom.

5. Leftovers at my parents-in-law's house yesterday, plus another football game played by the cousins. I love the way the older boys try to include the little kids as much as they can. There were plenty of dazzling passes, to be sure, but there were also plenty of instances where the little kids really got to try to play the game.

6. The distribution of this year's profits from our family's fair booth at the State Fair. We began the meeting with prayer, and there were some difficult conversations as we debated priorities and the division of the money. In the end, consensus was reached on all counts, and everyone was satisfied with the decisions. (And we are still all friends.) We chose to focus, as our outreach, on supporting the work of the Gospel through missions, setting aside some funds for any of our kids going on mission trips this coming year. The rest of the money we made on the booth was put toward financial needs within our extended family. The work at the fair is very hard, both physically and emotionally, but it becomes more than worthwhile when the end result is that we can help to take care of God's work and our own family.

7. Monday morning, here we go!

Epilogue

One of the old homes in Virginia City

Day 6 – our last full day – was cool and rainy all day, without any break. No time on the lake, which was disappointing, but only mildly so. “Hanging out” is the name of the game, and that’s what we did. Watched movies, read books, played games. Talked. Still a good day, when all was said and done.

We headed home on Day 7, starting out around 11:00 in the morning. Another smooth travel day, and we were home in plenty of time to unpack the RV and get it cleaned up.


I never tire of this view.


At one point during the week, Tim started talking about maybe going to the Oregon coast next summer. Doug and I looked at him as though he had three heads. Next year we go back to the lake. Period.



The view across the Madison Valley

And now, back to real life. Thanks for reading!

- Catherine



I just loved this bench on the side of a weather-worn building in Virginia City

Vacation Part 5

Day 5
Today we drove over to Virginia City (Montana), which is a restored western town located about 55 miles from where we are camping. Virginia City’s history is quintessential Wild West -- founded from a gold mine, with plenty of outlaws and vigilante violence. We took a 35-minute tour on an old fire truck, which gave us the opportunity to get a great overview of the town’s layout and history. We learned that gold was selling at $16 per ounce in the 1860s and that the Chinese laundry owners would sift the used wash water for gold dust after they had washed the miners clothes.





After the fire truck tour, we walked the boardwalks of Main Street, which is still the only paved road in town; if you don’t live on Main Street, you live on a dirt road in Virginia City (your street has a name and a modern street sign – but it ain’t paved). The old stores all have false fronts, which I learned was a way to make a town look bigger to outsiders.






The local outlaws were called “Road Agents” and there were 100 murders in Virginia City the very first winter of the town’s existence. Eventually, the local Masonic Lodge members took it upon themselves to rid the town of the road agents, and 22 road agents were hanged in one year, five of them in one day. Most of the outlaws were buried above the town, on Boot Hill – so named because these men were buried with their boots on.






The town museum has a preserved club foot from one of those road agents.

Of course, we had to go see it.

Yuk.

While in Virginia City, we had our “old time” photograph taken, and we are now the proud owners of a portrait of the four of us as a Wild West, gun-slingin’ family. (Yes, Hank is in the photo, but, absent opposable thumbs, he is not holding a gun.)

We got back to our camper around 5:30 p.m. Turns out we didn’t miss anything on the lake – because, although sunny, the day was too cool and breezy to do much swimming. (And it’s August, for Pete’s sake!) Tomorrow is our last full day here, so we hope for hot sunshine and a calm day!

Vacation Part 4

Day 4
A huge thunderstorm last night and the air is much fresher today. One clap actually shook the camper, waking me and worrying our dog (Hank hates thunderstorms). Lightening flashed for quite a while, but there were no more close thunder claps, thank goodness. It poured for a goodly amount of time, soaking Luci and the boys in their tents, unfortunately. Everyone was a bit tired this morning.

But, with the fresher air came some glorious weather – so we got some float time today – yay! The sun was hot and the water was beautiful.

Luci and the boys left mid-afternoon and we three are alone (well, we four, if you count the dog).



Yesterday’s mighty wind returned even stronger around 5:30 today, so we are back inside to relax with our laptops and movies. I like this summer living in our RV in this campground, with the lake outside my windows and the pine trees towering overhead. It’s a bit like having a cabin on a lake. The vacation isn’t so much about the camping as it is about the lake and relaxing; the RV is how we manage to have a lake vacation. We spend the day in our swimsuits and the evenings in our pajamas.

Speaking of pajamas, tonight the entire campground was given the opportunity to see our pajamas. Remember that wind? I looked down the hill and saw our raft and tubes floating in the lake, having blown off the shore from the sheltered area where we’d stowed them for the night. We sprinted down the hill through the trees, running pell mell along the shore to retrieve our stuff – which, thankfully, was being blown in the direction of the land and not out into the middle of the lake. With the wind absolutely roaring around us, we trussed up everything even more tightly than before and carefully placed our well-tied package of flotation devices in what we hoped was a more protected section of the lake shore. Once finished, we straggled back up the steep hill to our camper and collapsed inside.

Thus ends Day 4!




- Catherine