Who Knew Mornings Could Be So Beautiful!

I'm not a morning person. I never have been. How I ended up in a profession that requires a 5am wake-up time is one of the big ironies of my life. Normally I drag myself out of bed, use the shower as my gentle emergence into the day, and pour myself a big diet Coke to gulp down as I'm getting dressed and driving into work. Little is noticed during my morning ritual. I dress, pack my gym bag for my post-work trip to the hospital gym, throw an english muffin into the toaster, blow-dry my hair with little attempt to style it, and attempt to put a little make-up on my face. After tossing some dry food into Baxter and Ezra's dish, I head to the garage and hope to remember to open the garage door before driving out.

Monday morning I did a most unusual thing. I noticed! I looked outside and I noticed! It was a beautiful morning... In the winter there's no reason to look outside. It's dark when I'm heading to work and what's not illuminated by my headlamps on the car isn't seen... But its summer now.... which means the sun is starting to rise when I'm getting ready for work. . . And today I actually noticed!

There was a beautiful fog that had settled in the fields behind my house. It almost looked mystical. I took the time to grab my little 'point n shoot' camera, and tried my best to capture the morning. Ok, so National Geographic won't be soliciting my photos any time soon, but if you try really hard, look past the amateur photography, hopefully you'll see the magnificent colors in the sky and gentle fog settling low in the fields... and maybe, just maybe, like me, you'll have a lump in your throat at the beautiful world the Lord has given us! And...just maybe I'll try to notice the mornings more often???

((Or, maybe not! I'm STILL not a morning person! Maybe I should stick to sunsets!))

:-)

The Changing Face of Mother's Day in Linda's Life

I used to love Mother's Day. There was no way I could tell my mom often enough how much I appreciated her and how much I loved her. Once I became a mom myself, I was even more excited to share that day with my mom. I found greater appreciation for her and I understood her a little better. We shared a new bond. Our relationship transcended from Mother-Daughter to “fellow moms” and ‘best friends”. I understood her even more and she became a great resource for me.
As a new mom, I loved celebrating Mother’s Day even more than before.

I basked in the indescribable feelings of joy that developed with the first look at their tiny fingers and toes. I think every parent believes no one has ever loved another soul the way they love their child and I was no different. I marveled at the magnificent little souls God sent to my home.

Over time, the face of Mother's Day began to change. David was born in 1980 on the Sunday before Mother’s Day. Weighing only one pound nine ounces, he lived only 11 hours. In 1980 our Sunday School congregation had a strange way to pay tribute to mother's on Mother’s Day. The well meaning men in charge of the program decided in addition to giving a flower to all the women in church that day, they would make special presentations of an extra flower to a few ‘special’ women. There were flowers for the oldest Mom (not a single woman wanted to claim THAT flower!), the mom with the most children, the mother with the most grandchildren, as well as the "newest" mother.

When they asked "Has anyone had a baby in the last week, like an idiot I raised my hand. The man conducting the meeting didn't seem to notice my hand, and no one else raised their hand. They then asked "Has anyone had a baby in the last two weeks. Again, I raised my hand, this time a little bolder and higher. Why?? As crazy as it sounds, I couldn't help it. As much as it hurt to be reminded of his death, I definitely could not deny his birth and his short presence in my life.

At barely a pound and a half, David hadn't made much of an imprint on the world, but he had made a huge impact on my life. Living only a few hours, he didn't leave much behind: a couple poor quality photos, a set of foot prints, a birth certificate and a death certificate. So, I continued to hold my hand firmly in the air marking my place as the newest Mom in the congregation. The man presiding over the Mother's Day program at church finally noticed my raised hand. Suddenly uncomfortable, he called my name and I headed for the front of the chaple to claim my flower. Kasey had been sitting on my lap so I carried him to the pulpit with me. Both his arms were tight around my neck, and he pressed his cheek against mine, as if he knew I needed a tight hug to make up for the little hole David left in my heart. I claimed my flower then returned to my seat in the pew. Things were extra quiet in the chapel, but I didn't mind. I had my flower. My child's birth had been recognized.

Once the numbness of the day wore off, I realized I had made a lot of people uncomfortable that day. The gracious thing might have been to pretend that I hadn't had a baby. But I didn't. And they never singled out women on Mother’s Day again. I hope the refusal of an “oldest” mom to state her age and claim her flower was also partly responsible for the change in the Mother’s Day program.

Kasey died a couple months later, and Mother’s day didn’t improve for a long time. In fact, it seemed like Mother's Day was just a reminder that I could have been a better mom. It was even a bigger reminder of how much I missed Kasey and David. Mother’s Day programs were filled with talks and tributes to moms with examples of incredible women that made the average woman appear lacking and some of us like derelicts. Yes, for a while after Kasey and David died, I think Mother's Day became unbearable.

Mother’s Day seems to pass by without too much drama these days. I still dread the Mother’s day talks at church, but not quite as much. I still dread the flowers that remind me of my “newest mom” flower from years ago, but not as much...

I guess time heals all things... and besides, now I have a renewed reason to celebrate. I am beginning to form that ‘grown-up’ friend-ship, that bond, with my own daughters. I’m beginning to understand why my mom enjoyed watching me navigate through adulthood and into motherhood. I watch my daughters embrace their new roles as adults. I enjoy watching them strive for and achieve their goals. I see them mature into really incredible women. And I look forward to each Mother’s Day that God allows me to watch them grow and progress. Now Mother’s day gives me just one more reminder to thank my Heavenly Father for the chance to be a mom and to celebrate watching my girls prepare to be Mother’s themselves.

And Kasey and David?? I know I’ll see them again someday... when the time is right. In the meantime, they’ll be just fine where they are. They are probably keeping my mom company on Mother’s Day! I still miss them, and I still wish they were here... But each Mother's Day I ask God to tell them I love them, and while he's at it, I ask him to give my mom a big Mother's Day hug too...

This year Emily and John invited me to their house for Mother's Day. They cooked an amazing meal of all my favorites: Asian grilled salmon, tossed salad, and Magelby's rolls. It was so relaxing and a perfect day. Yup, I am learning to really enjoy these Mother's Days again...

Emily and John (sorry 'bout the old photo!)

Here's a walk down "Memory Lane" ... some of my early years as a mother....

1978--A photo of my mom and dad, Nikki and Kasey shortly after Kasey was born.

To the right is a photo of Kasey and I. Wow, do I look young, and doesn't he look cute! ...Below is a photo of Nikki and I.

Feet, Service, and Sister Missionaries

I remember the stories of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples. I didn't understand that at all. I understood it was an act of being humble. I know the Savior wanted us to be kind to others, but I didn't understand why the "Feet" example.

As a child I was grossed out by the thought of touching someone stinky feet!!! Then...to hear the Savior touched some one's dirty feet. Well! This story caught my attention! This meant the Savior needed to kneel before the disciple, a very humbling position. It wasn't until I got older and work required me to be on my feet all day that I realized any attention to a person's feet was a welcomed act of kindness. The significance of the Lord's example to humble ourselves to show acts of kindness took on deeper meaning.....

Well, now that I'm an adult, I see things a little differently. I have spent a lot of time as a nurse doing things that might have grossed me out as a child. I have bathed patients, changed sheets and washed patients after they've lost control of their bodily functions.... I knew it was difficult for them to receive such personal care and many of them spent too much time apologizing for a loss of bodily functions they could not control. I realized then how important it was to provide this service in such a way that my patients knew this was not a burden to me. I spent a lot energy trying to make my patients understand that I loved my job and loved being in a position to help patients do things that at this time in their lives they could not do for themselves.

Thinking back to the things I did for patients in the ICU and in contrast to what I thought as a child, washing dirty feet wasn't something gross, but a chance to give comfort, to show a kindness. I imagine in Jesus' days, feet took quite a beating. Living in a warm climate, wearing sandals, and walking almost everywhere would definitely create dry, tired feet, and they would probably be cracked and sore. Not only could I finally see how the act of washing tired hot feet would be a welcomed service, but I could finally see that allowing the Savior to perform such a humble act would allow the Savior totally into their heart and soul. It would create a bond with the person performing the act of kindness. Much the way I bonded with my patients in the ICU.

Fast forward to 2009. I know we are still encouraged to show kindness to others. Church gives us a constant opportunity for service and my profession gives me the opportunity to show kindness and empathy to others who are at a very vulnerable time in their lives.

A few people who are always giving service, and never expect anything in return are the sister missionaries. I am constantly amazed how they remain so dedicated. They would surely have a right to be discouraged. Doors get slammed in their faces, promises are made to them that are are broken, and every day they put their hearts out there... Many times to be struck down by a rude or angry stranger. Despite the frequent negative answers, they still take a chance inviting strangers to listen to a message they hold sacred and dear to their hearts, knowing the vast majority of people will not listen.

When they are not proselyting missionaries are expected to give service. Often times, when people don't want to listen to a message, they then ask "Well, then, is there anything we can do for you today, something you need help with?? With the exception of being fed and sheltered, I don't think they get a chance to receive many kindnesses or service to them directly. And this is as it was meant to be: this is a time for missionaries to dedicate their lives to service. Giving this service to others would help missionaries create a bond with the people in their mission. By understanding the needs of people, missionaries develop a bond of caring and understanding they may otherwise not have.

But my dad's advice reminds me "If you don't take care of yourself, You can't take care of others.."

Having been the recipient of kindness and service from the sister missionaries, I decided to direct a little kindness to them....and treated them both to pedicures on their "P" day. (aka "personal day" or 'day off'). After making sure with their mission president that it was "OK", I took them to one of the local nail salons. The chairs massaged their tired backs while the ladies at the salon massaged their feet, scrubbed their callouses and trimmed their toe nails. .. Not really a spiritual experience... yet a little act of kindness to two young ladies who otherwise spend all their time in service to others.

I hope somehow these amazing and kind ladies felt a little 'rejuvenated' by the experience. I enjoyed our time together!

"GOOD-BYE Student housing..."

Three years ago I decided to leave my high-rise condo and move into a single-family home. Having a few health concerns, I specifically looked at homes with all the ‘essentials’ on the main floor: master bedroom, kitchen, laundry and office. I wanted a four-bedroom home, but settled for three bedrooms instead.

I had been looking for a house off and on for a few years. I even gave up for a while and bought a lot because I wasn’t finding the house I wanted. But perseverance paid off and I found a house that came pretty close to what I was looking for. I knew it was "the one" the minute I walked into the foyer.
I broke a few rules of home-buying when I bought this house: I didn’t see what the yard looked like without the two feet of snow that was in the yard. I had no idea what the yard was going to look like. All I knew is that it was fully landscaped with underground sprinkling system. That could heave meant any number of things! For those of you who have read a real estate ad, then went to see the home, you all know it could have been a disaster.

Why then did it not even occur to me when I signed the real estate offer to hold off until the snow melted?? I guess it was a leap of faith. I had a "feeling".... And, the inside was done so beautifully that I just trusted the outside would be the same. (TRUSTED?? Is that even a word you can use with real estate purchases these day??) Well, I bought the house, snow and all. After I moved in and the snow melted, I got the surprise of my life. The yard exceeded my expectations... My EVERY hope and dream. The first spring I lived in the house I took pictures of the yard almost every week. Being a novice gardener I didn’t recognize plants as their tender shoots peaked through the ground. The blossoms and pods were a daily delight as they changed and developed and eventually blossomed into the most amazing display of color.

Now that it’s Spring again and the grass is starting to turn green, I am reminded of how much I love my house. I'm looking forward to seeing how much the plants have grown and developed. This will be my fourth summer in the house and the 5th summer for the landscape. (The house was a year old when I bought it).

I bought my house because of the floor plan, but I LOVE it because of the yard. Each day I drive into my drive way, each time I walk through my yard I have to admit I’m the luckiest person in the world! I could have been burned! Instead, I pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming. I acquired a most amazing yard with the most beautiful plants. I'm still learning how to take care of them, when and how to prune them.... But I'm enjoying the journey. I'm becoming a regular in the gardening section of Barnes and Noble and I'm finding some helpful internet sites to teach me a little more. I'm trying to learn enough to prove that you CAN teach an OLD DOG new tricks! So far I haven't ruined anything (I hope!)

Here are a few photos of my amazing yard from last year. Things here in Minnesota haven't fully bloomed yet, but one thing I know: I'll be outside taking photos all summer - again.

I think if I ever get too complacent to enjoy my yard it means the novelty has worn off and it's time to get back to "high rise" living... I hope that doesn't happen for a VERY long time... Not until I'm ready for "assisted living."


I still can't get used to architecture in Minnesota-Very little brick used here...
I guess it's so incredibly expensive here that most homes under a milliong dollars use it only for trim...
Yuck. I hate seeing so much siding...


Step off back deck


Front yard near mailbox

Each year the blossoms get thicker and thicker...


The magnolia is such a fun plant to watch.

The leaves show up after the blooms wilt away.

Above is a photo of the Magnolia bush once it's lost its blooms and is covered with leaves.

The leaves are beautiful too!

My Mom Was Amazing....

My mom was an amazing woman. She seemed to be involved in one project or another. She loved creating things and was great at fixing things. She was an amazing seamstress (sewed my wedding gown), knitted (She even made me an incredible fisherman’s knit sweater once, but I was so terribly allergic to the wool I could never wear it). She tackled stained glass, did macramé, and even started her own business with a hot stamp machine.
One of my favorite things about my mom was her tenacity to learn how to do things. She didn't give up easily and patiently spent the time needed to master any task she tackled. She was pretty handy around the house and it stands to note that the only tool box in the house was hers! I’m not sure if my dad even knew where to find it!
I remember when I first got married she told me that if I did any repairs around the house that my husband would soon leave repairs undone, rather than learn to do them himself. “So, she warned, “if you can’t wait to have it fixed, and you can fix it yourself, do so, but don’t breathe a word of it!"
I didn’t get my mom’s “Handy Dandy” genes. But I became fearless at giving any repair a try! I slowed down on the home repairs early in my marriage when I took my clock radio apart and inadvertently left the butter knife I was using as a screwdriver inside. My brother-in-law discovered it and made fun of me. That was the “Ah Hah” moment when I realized I wasn’t repair-man material! Despite the forgotten butter-knife, I still do a lot of things myself. As my budget permits, I hire more and more things done, but once in a while I have a lapse of judgment, forget I’m not my mom, and try a home improvement project. Once in a while I even succeed. My mom would be proud!

Is This Patient Awake, Alert & Oriented? You Decide...

I'm a nurse anesthetist. I work predominantly in Neurosurgery. I really see some of the most amazing things. I work in the number one neurosurgical center in the world. We always ask the patient to follow simple commands, answer questions to assess their ability to move and speak after surgery. An undesireable complication of these surgeries can be an inability to move part of their body, or to speak, depending on the part of the brain where they were resecting. Last week I was waking up a patient after a brain tumor resection and although sleepy and sluggish, he was appropriately answering questions to "What is your name?" "What day is this" and "Where are you?" Then the kicker: the surgeon asked him "Do you know the name of the president of the United States..?" The patient, still sluggish answered " Osama Bin Laden" ...
We all looked at each other and I said "Did he say what I THINK he said??" So we asked him AGAIN, the same question... The patient responded in the same way... Then said "Obama is the ultimate evil" and smiled a weak smile! We all laughed, realizing this patient was more alert than we thought, as he was able to impart to us all a little humor into his response! I then said to him... "With your permission, I'd like to share your response! I know a few people who will agree with you on that one!!"

Thanksgiving 2008

I found this blog in my Drafts folder. It was written last December, but never got posted. I was still new to Blogging and didn't know where to find my drafts. I found it tonight and decided to post it any way....

Thanksgiving 2008 was filled with family, friends and a houseful of fun. Our traditional Thanksgiving dinner has long been steak. I think I'm the only one in the family who truly misses turkey, and that's probably as much from the memories of Thanksgiving as a child as it is from a personal preference for turkey over steak.
We had 13 around the table this year... Me, Andrew, Emily and John, John's parents-John and Joanne Sharpe, Kristen and Thomas Rose, and the Hoelzles: Kolbey, Robin, Kailey, Olivia and Taten. John did an amazing job seasoning the steaks and Emily perfected our traditional "Magelby Rolls." Kristen brought her much sought after sweet potato casserole and Robin brought an assortment of pies that satisfied EVERYONE's favorite flavor.

After dinner we engaged in a hot and heavy game of "Catch Phrase." Good thing houses are well insulated in Minnesota or the neighbors would have called to complain about the screaming and laughing! Catch Phrase was followed by a game new to our family: "Wits and Wagers." I have decided from the positive reaction of the family to the games that the best way to chose a game is to go to "Games by James" and ask the clerk for some recommendations. He was so excited and animated in his recommendations that it was hard to choose which game to buy: so I bought 4 or 5 of them! I can't wait for a chance to try the others! I can't remember when I've had more fun watching the kids play. They were even funnier than when they were little!

Friday John and Joanne went antique hunting while Emily, John and I stayed behind to fix dinner: Asian Grilled Salmon: one of my new favorites. I even bought a new tank of propane so I wouldn't take any chances on the propane running empty.

Best laid plans??? Well, while waiting for the grill to heat up, I noticed the temperature was dropping on the grill gauge... I squatted down to peek in the peep-hole to see if I could see a flame. Nope, no flame there. "Well, time to change the propane tank." I thought and while still squatting I reach over to turn the gas off in preparation for changing the tank and accidentally turned the ignition switch on instead. WRONG BUTTON! The flame was out, but the gas was still flowing. The force of explosion knocked me over and I screamed. John came running to see what was wrong and I ran for the ice machine and grabbed a handful of ice and buried my face in the pile of ice in my hands.

Emily rushed me to the emergency room. I could feel my eyes swelling and my face was hurting so badly I was worried and scared. I thought for sure I'd really seriously burned my eyes. I knew that burns took several hours to fully manifest all their damage. In addition, I could feel chunks of broken, burned hair falling into my hands. I could smell it.... who doesn't hate the smell of burned hair! The ER staff was great and I was immediately put into a room. They were quickly assessing the extent of the burn and the ER nurse brought in a basin of ice water and a wash cloth to use as a cold compress for my face. I didn't want to give up my ice pack, but they told me ice can actually cause more tissue damage.

I don't know what I would have done without Emily with me in the Emergency Room. She helped keep me company and gave me someone to talk to. Normally I don't get so stressed when I get hurt, but I have to admit I was more than a little scared. I could feel my eyes continue to swell and I knew I'd be in trouble if I lost my eyesight. The nurses didn't have time to change the cold compresses on my face often enough to control the pain, and I couldn't see very well to find the wash basin. Emily kept changing the cold compresses for me for the full 6 hours we were in the emergency room. It was the only thing that made the pain tolerable.

After several hours, frequent evaluations by the ER docs, and a few doses of morphine (better living through pharmacology!) I was sent home with good news. No permanent damage!

While Em and I were in the ER, John finished cooking the salmon. I think it actually turned out better than when I make it. I was so thankful for John's good cooking. I didn't realize I was hungry until we got home, but it sure tasted wonderful!

Despite everyone telling me I should lay down and rest, I couldn't unwind. The adrenaline was pumping through my system for quite a while after I got home. Even the morphine didn't slow the effects of the adrenaline! I knew I dodged a bullet that night. I was finally realizing that my eyes were ok (My biggest worry) and that my skin wasn't burned badly enough to permanently scar. Oh, yeah..... and John saw his mother-in-law on Morphine mixed with endogenous adrenaline. I'm sure I'll hear about for a long time to come...!

Thanksgiving 2008: It was a great holiday, despite my little mishap. I had an angel on my shoulder that day... and definitely added one more thing to be thankful for. It was a miracle I wasn't blinded. (The eye doctor says I have my eyeglassed to thank for that!) I missed a little work time because I couldn't wear a face mask on raw skin, and I spent some time walking around looking like a lobster. A few people asked "Have you been someplace warm??" Define "WARM" I would respond! Some admitted later they thought I'd had a chemical peel. (Could I have just invented the propane facial!)

As time passed I learned that eyelashes and eyebrows DO grow back, blistered skin heals and women can't hide bald spots with a comb-over any better than men. Yes, it was a season of thanksgiving...