The Storm of '71

How many dates do you have implanted in your brain?  Dates that you remember exactly what you were doing and where you were on that day, no matter how many years have passed.  I'm not talking about the biggies like 9/11, I'm talking days that were big in your life, or your neck of the woods.  For instance, January 24th was a doosey for me.  On January 24th, 1969, my HUGE crush walked with me to the park and kissed me on a park bench.  This guy was such a crush I still to this day remember his car's license plate.  I think that may be in part because I didn't want anyone to know I liked him, so I referred to him even in my diary as AL554.  In that year I wrote AL554 and January 24th so many times they have stuck in my brain.  Now, when that day in January rolls around I have to chuckle and thank the Lord above that nothing ever materialized with Mr. AL554.  I'm very happy I ended up with the one I got instead!

Forty years ago today, February 22, 1971 is one of those dates, not just for me, but for a lot of people from around here.  I was fifteen years old and a snowstorm hit this area unlike any ever since.  I don't remember  details like snow totals or exactly how hard the wind blew, but I do know there was no such thing as a fence for a several county swath.  The drifts were clear up over some houses.  Some of the main highways were blocked for a week, some of the country roads for a few weeks.  School was out for a week.  My biggest concern was that I was snowed-in at home which was twenty two miles from town and one of my girlfriends who also lived out in the booney's got snowed-in in town.  Talking to her on the phone I got to hear all about her and my other friends in town sledding, and having a wonderful time while I was bored and feeling sorry for myself half a county away!

For my husband it was a whole different story.  He was also snowed in at his house which was seven miles from a different town, but he had a lot more to worry about than being bored.  His Dad was very ill and was in a hospital eighty miles away along with his mother.  Back at the farm, Mark, two of his sisters, his brother and their families were snowed in with him.  The extended family had come home having gotten word that their Dad had taken a turn for the worse.  With their minds on their Dad of course, no one thought to stock up on groceries ahead of the coming storm.  After several days without much food, Mark and his brother took out cross country on a tractor as far as they could go.  When the tractor got stuck, they walked the rest of the way to the main highway, which had been cleared enough their Grandpa could meet them and take them into town to get a few sacks of groceries.  Grandpa took them back to where he'd picked them up, they carried the groceries to the tractor, dug, and pushed, rocked it back and forth and finally got the tractor to move again to get them back home.  In the barn yard was 100 black Angus heifers, calving for the first time. Mark had to keep his eye on them and try to save as many baby calves as he could.  The bulls were a couple pasture's away and he carried bales of feed to them and kept the frozen creek busted up so that they could get a drink.  At the age of sixteen he had a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, but he held up well.  To his recollection, they only lost two baby calves which is amazing.

I always said I wish we would get a storm like that just one time so my kids could experience it, but in reality it is a blessing that we haven't.  Being a kid, I don't remember the hardship it brought, the livestock lost, the financial repercussions, the toll it took.  It is probably best that it is just a memory to share with others.  You can ask anyone over the age of fifty who has lived around here all their life  - "Do you remember the storm of '71?"  There is no explanation needed, their eyes light up, they shake their head and launch into their own personal story, where they were and what happened to them during the blizzard forty years ago today.

An Extraordinary Life

Today was so pretty out.  It was the last day of our "spring" in the middle of February.  The temperature was about seventy degree's with  very little wind.  Along with everyone else in this neck of the woods, a week of unseasonably warm temperatures made us want to get outside and start digging in the dirt!

 First, Mark and I put together and hung a grow light over a table in the basement and put my spinach and cabbage seedlings under it.  I then planted  lettuce and broccoli seeds to join them.   After lunch and a nap on the couch, Mark  hooked up a four bottom plow to our 4020 JD tractor and I rode on the fender as he plowed our garden.  I enjoyed watching the wheat we had planted last fall roll underground to decompose and nourish our garden next summer.  I loved the smell of dirt mix with the smell of diesel from the tractor.  We laughed as our chickens came running to the fresh dirt, dig in it looking for bugs and acting like they were having the time of their lives.  I started planning where I would plant things and daydreamed about again eating  fresh potatoes, sweet onions, cucumbers, tomatoes, squash, cantaloupe, and watermelon.

Next we walked over to our little orchard and as Mark pruned the fruit trees, I carried what he cut off to a pile to be burned later.  After we were done we sat down on the edge of a planter,  looked across at what we had accomplished, and watched the chickens play as the sun was setting.  Mark got up to put the pruner away and I sat there just a moment longer.  I felt the slightest breeze blow across my face.  It felt like a caress from my heavenly Father.  I closed my eyes and basked in his love.  I thought "Lord, what a charmed life I have.  How pleasant are the boundaries you have set for me!"  I opened my eyes, still feeling the soft breeze on my face and realized I want to memorize this moment, memorize the goodness of the day I just lived.  I want to remember this ordinary day spent with Mark, the smell of the dirt, what the clouds and the sunset looked like, and the touch of God on my face.  I knew this day was a gift.  One to cherish and not just be thrown into the pack with all other days.  Someday, I will look back on today and I will know - I have lived an extraordinary life!

Dear Daddy

My dad would have been 100 years old today.  I was my parent's "late in life" surprise.  I was born when my Mom was forty three and my Dad was forty six.  My Mother says the first thing he said when I was born was "I hope I live long enough to see her raised".  He did, but barely.  He died at the age of sixty three, when I was seventeen and had been married for one month.  I've often wondered what it would have been like to have him longer than I did, to give and get a hug from him as an adult, to see him love and play with my children, and to be able to tell him the things I wish I could have said to him.

Dear Daddy,
I feel like I was cheated,  I don't feel like I truly ever got to know you.  Please don't take that wrong, you were a wonderful, kind, loving, and very protective father.  It was in no way your fault, it was mine.  I only knew you as a child and a snot-nosed teenager, and then you were gone.  One of my biggest regrets is that I never got the chance to know you, visit with you, and love you, as an adult.  An adult who can see the error of her ways, the many things you tried to teach me as a teenager who wouldn't listen, but now know it as the truth.  I wish I could tell you that.

I remember how worried you were about storms, how you would watch the sky as a thunderstorm rolled in.  It wasn't for yourself you were afraid, it was for your family.  Getting us to the basement and to safety if the need arose, was something you felt responsible for as the Dad.  Life dealt you one storm though, that you couldn't do anything about.  You had to watch kidney disease take it's toll on one of your children.  Glenn fought the battle for over ten years but then we lost him at the age of twenty three when I was eleven years old.  I know how much it hurt me then, and how much I still miss him to this day.  I can only imagine the pain it caused you and Mother.  I don't remember life changing any, other than the fact that Glenn was no longer with us.  You still went to work each day, still loved me.  I don't  remember any palpable sorrow filling the house.  You and Mother drew strength from each other and from your faith and you kept life happy for the one child you still had at home. I know now, that it couldn't have been easy.  I wish I could tell you that.

I remember you dropping me off at one of my high school basketball games.  You asked me if I had any money in case I wanted some popcorn or something.  I said "No, but I don't need any".  You said, "No, here, I want you to have some just in case", then opened up your wallet and gave me a couple dollars.  You had grown up extremely poor, and you went on to say "I remember after one of my high school games I played in, they had just come out with an ice cream sandwich called Eskimo pie.  All the rest of the team  got one, but  I didn't have any money to get one and I had to sit there and watch them eat theirs and they looked so good."  You will never know how much that story touched me.  I fought tears that night and I still fight them every time I think about it.  I wish I could tell you that.

I know that in the last three months of your life,  I disappointed you more than you had ever been disappointed in any of your children.  When Mark and I found out we had to tell our parents that we were pregnant and not even yet out of high school, I dreaded telling you most of all.  But instead of having to live with the memory of you being mad and telling me how disappointed you were with me, you calmly came, sat down by Mark and I, and told us you loved us and that you would love any children we had.  With you gone less than three months later, Daddy, you couldn't have given me a more precious gift. Oh how I wish I could tell you that.

I wish you could see what a wonderful husband Mark turned out to be.  I so wish you could have enjoyed our six children.  I can only imagine how you would have loved the four girls when they were little!  And I would have loved for you to have seen the boys play ball.  You would have been so proud!  We always thought they got  their athletic ability from you.  You were a star athlete in your day, especially in basketball and baseball, the very two sports the boys excelled in.  Bryan looks like Mark's side of the family, but Kyle has always reminded me of you.  And one of my grandsons, Karen's little boy Kyson, looks a tremendous amount like you!  I wish I could tell you that.

I know how much I've missed by having you in my life for only seventeen years.  But you gave me a legacy of love from a father who always put me and the rest of his children ahead of his own wants and needs.  You taught me right from wrong, what is important and what isn't, to be content with what I have, to never take for granted the small blessings in life, to take severe weather seriously, and to chew fish well so I never choke on a bone!  And someday, thanks to Jesus, I'll be able to tell you that.

Breaking Bread With Burney

This week, Valentine's Day in fact, is my youngest daughter Jamie's wedding anniversary.  Her and Burney have been married for seven years.  Oh how stressful were the few years leading up to that day!  Burney is eight years older than her and she started seeing him when she was a senior in high school.  Yes, do the math, she was eighteen and he was twenty six.  We were not at all happy about this when we found out.  On top of that, Burney had a bit of a reputation around these parts of being a partier and a player when it came to girls.  We now know just how exaggerated those stories were.  The truth is, his reputation was no worse than the one her father had when I married him, but this was different!  This was his baby girl!  Her Dad put his foot down and said "no, this was not going to happen!"  Of course this put a strain on our relationship with Jamie for the remainder of her senior year and when she graduated and moved almost immediately, there was no doubt in our mind that it was to be closer to him,  Thankfully Mark knew that when a child is eighteen years old, and living away from home, there is nothing you can do and did not push the issue.  I tended to bury my head in the sand and tried to pretend that we were mistaken and he was no longer a part of her life.  But then as time went on, she started trying to talk to me about him and how he was the one and she wanted him to be a part of our life as well as her own.  I remember saying to her "Jamie, if this is going to happen, then he is going to have to talk to your father!"  Mark assured me that I had nothing to worry about, Burney would never come try to talk to him, after all, he was a "player and party animal".

About three months passed.  Life went on, and I thought he was right.  I never gave it another thought other than worrying about Jamie and trying to think of some "nice guy" I could introduce her to who would sweep her off her feet.  One day the phone rang as I was going out the door.  Immediately the thought came to me, "That's Burney."  Now, remember, three months had passed and never once had that thought come in my head when I heard a ringing telephone.   I  picked up, answered and sure enough,  I heard, "Norma, this is Burney, is Mark there?  I need to talk to him."  I have no idea what I answered him, but I know I went to tell Mark to get on the phone, got in my pickup, and drove to town praying over and over again "Holy Spirit, Holy Spirit, Holy Spirit, Holy Spirit!"  That's all I could say, I didn't know what to pray for.  I have since come to realize that it was indeed the Holy Spirit who whispered in my ear that the ringing phone was Burney.  He wanted me to stop worrying and to know that He was with us and that all would work out.  Mark and Burney set a date to speak in person.

When that day came and he and Jamie walked in the door, Mark and I, along with  Karen, Ryan their children, and my Mother were all sitting at the kitchen table.  You could have cut the tension with a knife.  Those who know my husband, know he isn't short on words when he has something to say and he started letting them have it with both barrels and asking questions to find out exactly what Burney's intentions were.  The rest of us scattered like  tumbleweeds in a tornado!  We were in one of the bedrooms pretty much freaking out except for son in law Ryan who said, "Well, I can't hear anything, I'm going somewhere where I can hear!"  Karen whispers back "Are you kidding me!?"  He answers by walking out, going into the living room and pretends to play a video game.  Little three year old Lexi wandered back and forth like nothing was going on.  Mother, Karen, and I decided we needed to pray.  Later on we heard that Lexi had gone in and patted Grandpa on the leg repeatedly saying "PaPa,  PaPa" until he looked down and asked "Yes Lexi?" at which point she reassuredly patted him again and told him "Everything's going to be all right, MaMa's praying! 

 Finally we heard Mark say, as far as he was concerned the slate was wiped clean, anything Burney had ever done in the past was just that, the past,  he was welcome to become a part of our family and he would only be judged by anything that happened in the future.  We all nervously went in and sat down to bowl's of chili as Mark and Burney visited like nothing had ever happened.  When Burney and Jamie left, Grandma declared that "all is well" because we had "broke bread with Burney!"

Looking back it is all so laughable.  Burney has made Jamie a good husband and a wonderful father to their two beautiful little girls.  We wouldn't trade him for anybody.   But I also know  Burney understands where Mark was coming from as he looks as his two little angels.  He and Mark have laughed about it and talked about why a father is so protective of his girls.  I have a feeling when some young man stands in front of Burney in the future and Burney is trying to get out of him just exactly what his intentions are, he will make Mark look like a tiny little pussy cat!  That poor kid better be ready, because I don't think "breaking bread with Burney" will come near as easy when Burney is the Dad!

New technology is a dangerous thing!

A month or so ago, daughter #2, Karen, upgraded her regular cell phone to an I-phone.  This set off a bout of monumental phone envy in her two sisters and I, the likes of which had never been seen before!  Daughter #4, Jamie, has had a Droid for two years and she laughingly wondered what all the fuss was about.  But with her living five hours away, we were not constantly bombarded with all the wonderful amazing things this phone would do.  When we would get together we would all gather around Karen as she showed us all the cool apps that she had downloaded.  This phone could make all aspects of life better and easier!  With the cardio app, one could effortlessly get in shape.  With the grocery app, our pantry shelves would magically stay full.  With the stargazing app, we would know the name and location of every constellation in the sky!  There was no limit to what this phone could do for us.  We would longingly sigh and resign ourself to the fact that we all had to wait until our contract was up.

I found out by accident a week ago, that my contract actually was up and I was eligible for an upgrade!  Without delay and with absolute giddiness, I got on the internet and ordered the I-phone I wanted and when it arrived high tailed it to Karen's house to learn how to use it.  One of the coolest things about it is that you slide your fingers across the keyboard instead of "typing".  Although a little tricky to learn, it was fun to do and made texting much quicker.

All was well until last night.  I was watching the Super Bowl with Mark and got a message from my 12 year old granddaughter Lexi.  I quickly "slid" her a message back and sent it to her.  I love the slide and wanted to play with it some more.  So I decided to send a message to Mark's phone.  It started out "Hey Baby------------------",  you fill in the blank.  I chuckled as I hit send and watched him at the other end of the couch.  His phone didn't ring.  I thought that's weird so I sent him another one, much like the first one, only better!  Again it didn't ring.  Suddenly I realized I had not told the I-phone what number to send it to. Starting to panic I looked and sure enough, at the top of the screen  it said "Sent to Lexi", and at the bottom were the two messages, while perfectly appropriate for my husband's eyes, were definitely not for my granddaughter's eyes!  

I jumped off that couch so fast and ran into the other room.  Of course in my panic I couldn't remember how to work the dang phone.  I finally found Karen's cell phone and dialed - no answer.  Pacing back and forth, I found her house phone and called it.  Thankfully she answered.  Of course, as mortified as I was, it took me awhile to get out what was wrong.  When I finally did get out what was wrong, she was just thankful everything was all right.  I was so upset she thought someone had died!   She said she knew that Lexi had just gotten in the bathtub so she thought she probably hadn't read them.  She went and got Lexi's phone and came back and laughingly told me that they were erased and Lexi hadn't seen them. Then, knowing that no harm was done, we laughed and laughed.  She assured me that even if she had seen them, that Lexi knew between married people....., I interrupted her and said, "I know, Karen, that was plan B, but I sure was hoping that we could get it taken care of with plan A, and thank you Jesus we did!

So, lesson #1 when it comes to "smart" phones: They aren't smart enough to telepathically know who you intend to send a message to!  And lesson #2:  In the hands of this middle age woman, they can be a dangerous thing, very very dangerous!!

MERGE!

In my twenty's I could drive any piece of machinery on our farm including a four wheel drive tractor with a huge implement behind it all day long, working the ground up close to the telephone polls, never once hitting them.  I could drive a loaded wheat truck into the local elevator 10 times a day without batting an eye.  I once drove a four wheel drive pickup through snow drifts that the local farmers declared impossible to get through.  Once they realized I had to get through them in order to get my kindergartener off the bus and back home they did concede that the power of maternal instinct was with me!  BUT, the thought of driving in what I perceived to be "big city" traffic struck fear in my heart like nothing else.

 I was thirty one years old before I even attempted to drive in the  "city" which most of the nation refers to as a small town.  I wouldn't have even did it then if I hadn't been forced to by having to go to an ear specialist twice a week for a couple months.  The first couple times I bothered my sister to take me and she ever so kindly took off work to take me, but I soon realized I couldn't impose on her like this for the duration.  So, off I went to attempt the thing that frightened me more than anything else.  Once I got on the freeway, I was OK, but getting on to it required the worst thing imaginable - Merging!

Many times I would have my children with me and as we approached the exit, I would shut off the radio and say a prayer, my heart would start pounding, I would start holding my breath and tell all the kids to be perfectly quiet because Mom had to merge.  A total hush would come over the vehicle until we were on the four lane freeway.  The entire van would let out a collective sigh of relief when I gave the all clear signal.  I think the kids were in awe of their mother's amazing skills.  I can remember the more trips I made, the little less frightening it became.  I also remember looking at the other drivers and imagining them thinking - "Wow, look at that woman merging in all this traffic - she is good!"

I kept my reputation of amazing, traffic driving mother until daughter #1 started driving herself.  Then one by one, as they each grew up and became drivers themselves, I dropped from skillful driver to the biggest hick that ever walked - or rather, ever drove!  They still get a kick out of telling about their first time having to merge, breaking into a cold sweat thinking, "Oh Wow, this is it!  This is where I have to merge and I know it's tough - I hope I make it" then ten seconds later thinking "That was it?  THAT is what sent Mom into panic mode all those years?",  then laughing hysterically.

I have by now drove in "the city" enough that although I don't really like it, I can do it without danger of passing out from holding my breath.  So, I laugh with them at my former paranoia.  I'm just really grateful that I was forced to do it or I may be handicapped to this day, not able to drive on anything but country roadways.  I guess one could say God knew what he was doing when he gave me that horrible ear infection way back then.  He was just teaching me how to merge!