What's Missing?

 On Saturday I took down my Halloween decorations. That sounds funny to my ear since I used to avoid Halloween. For most, the holiday is all about candy and costumes and decorations. I've tried to become a good sport about it. After all, I have a seven year old grandson.  People need to have something to look forward to, so TRICK OR TREAT night has become a major holiday for retailers (#2 I've heard).

As I was saying, I put away my pumpkin door decoration and Mickey Mouse (vampire) talking candy bowl and got out my Thanksgiving decor . . . a fun couch pillow with a felt turkey; a tin turkey on the mantle--my favorite done with chalk paint; a tray with a harvest pumpkin and our tradition, a jar of candy corns (still there from Halloween); another turkey candle and mini harvest salt shakers; a straw turkey--actually two straw turkey's (the grass woven one was my mom's); Publix Pilgrim salt shakers and a pumpkin shaped candle as a table centerpiece. It seems like something is missing.

Oh yeah. My fall door wreath has returned and I changed out my Halloween garden flag with a Thanksgiving one . . . that should about cover it. Hmm  . . .

 Oh! I'm in charge of ordering the turkey this year . . . still, is something missing?

Now I remember . . . 70% of those surveyed said they wish retailers would wait to put up Christmas decorations and play "holiday" music until after Thanksgiving. Why don't they listen to us? Perhaps it's because we can't stop long enough to consider exactly what we are thankful for and to whom we are thankful. Don't wait until Thanksgiving Day [hoping to] feel thankful. If you're like me, or the host of Thanksgiving dinner, that warm thankful feeling is probably in the oven.  So . . . I'm going to spend the next 21 days enjoying my fun Thanksgiving decorations, and using them as reminders to actually write down the (many, MANY I'm sure) things I have to thank God for. Will you join me?

(That's what was missing).

Bad Attitude: The Wonder of "The Taj"

Some people just don't value wonder like they should. My husband is in India for the third time, and was not excited when his team added an extra day to visit the Taj Mahal. 

"But it's one of the seven wonders of the world!" I declared, as if he didn't know anything.

"I guess I have a bad attitude" he conceded. "It's a four hour drive right after flying eighteen hours" (not counting layovers between the three flights).

"You have to go, as long as you're in the neighborhood," I encouraged. "Most people never get to see any of the seven wonders . . ."

At the time, I didn't realize that the Taj Mahal is actually not one of the original seven wonders of the ancient world. Most of those no longer exist, according to National Geographic Kids.

"The Taj" as it is called by those really in the know, was one of the New Seven Wonders winners in 2000, at the change of the millennium. It was #7 on the list.

When is the last time you saw something that made you feel admiration, amazement or awe? What place would you add to the New7Wonders list? It could be a spot in your own neighborhood. In my opinion, one can find wonder just about anywhere. Don't tell my husband. He already has a bad attitude.

1. Giza Necropolis (Egypt)
2. Great Wall of China (China)
3. Petra (Jordan)
4. Colosseum (Italy)
5. Chichn Itza (Mexico)
6. Machu Picchu (Peru)
7. Taj Mahal (India)
8. Christ the Redeemer (Brazil)

Admit it. You LOVED it!

My Horse, Patches

1963 YMCA Camp at Estes Park Map  "Blithedale" (8:00), Livery (4:00)

When I was seven years old, my parents, my two sisters and my grandparents set out in two blue Chevrolet sedans for a long road trip from Texas to Colorado. We were headed for the YMCA of the Rockies at Estes Park which has access to hiking, birding, back country camping, horseback riding and fishing in Rocky Mountain National Park’s Moraine Park. I've always remembered our trip as the perfect vacation. I still have a little charm bracelet that memorializes our passage through Texas, Santa Fe, Wyoming and Colorado. Wait a minute. I don't remember being in Wyoming...

Well, I definitely remember the fun of switching cars and getting to sit between Honey and Papa on the front bench seat so cold air could blow right on my face (before seat belts and booster seats). I also remember our hike up to Bear Lake, where there was snow, even in mid-summer. As we were leaving there, I smashed my big toe in the car door and it was a bloody mess. My silly grandmother tried unsuccessfully to comfort me by making up a rhyme: "To Bear Lake, to Bear Lake, to see all the snow; home again, home again with a busted toe."

My strongest recollection is that of my horse, Patches. I've often recounted that every day I would ride the beautiful paint horse on the mountain trails. The reality is that I only rode Patches two or three times at most. And looking at the "Corral" on the map above, it might have been in one big circle!

Recently I heard Daniel Kahneman's TED talk, "The Riddle of Experience versus Memory" as it applies to happiness. He shared his research on the "experiencing self" (what is actually happening in the present), and the "remembering self," (the storyteller reconstructing the tiny bits actually recalled). I will concede that my memory of those actual experiences may be in question, but the well-being I feel when reflecting on that vacation is priceless, especially having my very own horse, Patches.

The best vacation ever as I remember it

My parents' brand new car as they remember it

Before You Tube There Was View-Master

1955 Model E View-Master 3-Dimensional Viewer

My 7-year-old grandson routinely wakes up,grabs an iPad and watches a Minecraft tutorial on You Tube. When I was a kid during the preVCR/preDVD/pre Video game/preInternet age, we had the View-Master 3-dimension stereoscope for entertainment.



The View-Master system was introduced in 1939, four years after the advent of Kodachrome color film. The viewer, made of bakelite (early brittle formaldehyde laced plastic), held thin cardboard disks containing seven pairs of small color photographs on film. Surprisingly, Fisher Price still sells them. Mine was a Model E, more modern than earlier styles, with big ivory buttons on the picture changer levers and a large "V" slot on top for easier reel insertion.

My favorite story reel was "Little Black Sambo," first written and illustrated by Helen Bannerman in 1899. You may know it as the non-controversial Indian remake called The Story of Little Babaji or an exuberantly African-American folk fantasy titled Sam and the Tigers. 

Helen Bannerman was the wife of a Scottish doctor in the Indian Medical Services in the Tamil region of southern India. She made up the story for her two daughters to pass the time on a train trip. You can read a copy with original illustrations here. 

When I was first introduced to the book, I was too young to perceive the underlying issues that swirled around Bannerman's whimsical illustrations. I was unaware that demeaning pictures of black people were routinely found in books or that 'Sambo' was a common slave name whites used for a black man. I just admired the exciting and mysterious story of the little boy with a red coat, blue trousers, a green umbrella and elfin slippers lined in crimson. I just shivered at the thought of encountering four tigers. I just tasted the golden butter gathered from under the tree and the pancakes Sambo's mother made for dinner that evening.

My grandson seems only mildly impressed when looking into my old View-Master,which only interests him as a relic of the "old days". While he gets exasperated teaching my son (his dad) to create a new Minecraft world, I wonder what his children will be imagineer-ing when they are his age? 

Oink Brown

These days, it can be challenging to keep a conversation going when I'm with both of my parents together. Mom seems surprised that I live in Tennessee and can't always remember what subjects she taught. Dad is starting to forget the minute details of our family history that are still unrecorded. Still, if we ask him to retell a funny story, and are patient enough to wait for his pale blue eyes to close and his eyelids to flutter through the Rolodex of memories, a predictable but beloved tale will finally ascend from his dopamine-deprived vocal cords.

One night Leroy and his brother went to a bar and had too much to drink, then stole a pig from a truck in the parking lot. On their way home they came to a road block so they pulled over, sat the pig up between them, threw a hat on his head and wrapped a jacket around his body. The sheriff went to each window asking for names.

Leroy Brown was driving the truck and on the passenger side was John Henry Brown. Then the deputy sheriff said, "Okay, you in the middle there, what’s your name?” So Leroy moved his elbow like that and when he hit him in the ribs it sounded like "Oink."

So the deputy’s partner came up and said, “You got anything looks like its bothering you?”

He said, “Nah, let’s leave ‘em alone, but I’ll tell you one thing—that Oink Brown must be the ugliest rascal in East Texas.”

As corny as it sounds, and as many times as we've heard it, we all get tickled, then chuckle, then guffaw at my dad's big horsey smile until finally the tears of laughter wash away our cares.

Encore . . .  "Tell the one about R-uh" . . .

One day Leroy and Oink Brown had a big wreck and had to go to the doctor.
The doctor said, “What on earth happened to you?"
“Well, we were just driving along when Oink here put the gear into “L”.
“You mean LOW” said the doctor.
"No, Lurch.” said Leroy.
He went on with his story. “Well next, old Oink put the gear into “D”.
“You mean DRIVE” said the doctor.
“No, Drag” corrected Leroy.
He continued. “Then when we got to the light, a guy pulls up next to us and starts waving his hands at us. So Doc, the next thing I knew old Oink put the gear into “R-uh”.
“In Reverse??” cried the doctor.
“No, R-uh means Race! And the next thing I know, all hell broke loose and we crashed into that tree.”

Do you have family stories to pass on? While you still can, write them down, or better yet, record them on your mobile device. These two were captured a year ago, when my dad met up with some old pals for lunch. This little excerpt might just cure anything ailing you today.

The Lizard

At age 4, I liked putting worms onto fish hooks and catching frogs in mayonnaise jars. Such interests made it hard for my mom to corral me, especially when it was time to cook dinner. Late one afternoon my wet jar of baby frogs broke on the patio and severed a tendon in my tiny thumb. About midnight a pediatric orthopedic surgeon who was in town for a conference, performed emergency surgery and saved my hand. After that ordeal, I stuck to keeping miniature turtles in a clear plastic beach resort complete with swimming pool and fake palm tree.

In a tropical climate like Houston, garden snakes, horned toads and bright green lizards frequented our back yard, so leaving the sliding glass door open was a capital offense in our family. That's why I was surprised, four years ago, to hear my mom giggling and squealing when she answered my call.

"Are you busy?" I asked, wondering what on earth was going on.

"We've been trying to catch a lizard that got in through the patio door then turned up on our bedroom wall," she laughed. "Daddy has it trapped in a mayonnaise jar but we don't know how to get the lid on without him getting loose again. You're the frog catcher--what do you think we should do?"

Impressed that she still remembered my most traumatic preschool moment (and probably her scariest parental moment) I started to answer . . . but she interrupted. "I'll have to call you back. Daddy needs me to help him with the lid."

She didn't call back, but I forgot about it until a week later when I was in town.We were sitting on the patio when a little green lizard ran toward the sliding door. I started laughing and asked Mom if she thought it could be the same lizard they trapped the day I called.

"What lizard?" she said blankly.

"The one that was sleeping above your bed that Daddy trapped in the mayo jar just before I called last week."

"I don't know what you're talking about, but we've never had a lizard in our house--you know how Daddy is about keeping the sliding door closed!" When I persisted she got flat mad.

That was my first clue that something was going wrong in my mother's brain. How could she remember me as "the frog catcher" from fifty years ago, but not recall a very unusual incident a week before?

Today a novice can tell that my 84 year old mom has Alzheimer's Disease. Whenever I see a lizard now, I remember the exasperated expression on her face, but then I try to conjure up the joyful laughter I heard when she answered my phone call giggling like a four year old with a mayonnaise jar.

Laugh Til You Cry, Cry Til You Laugh

You can tell by the date of my last post that the past two years have been heavy. Actually for five years, many of the people I love most have gone through significant difficulties that have no short-term solutions. One of the hardest lessons I've learned is how to live with joy in light of unsolved problems. I've been writing during this season, but most didn't seem appropriate for The Sunflower Gospel's mostly light-hearted tales.

My sisters and I have been helping to care for our elderly parents since they were diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease and Alzheimer's Disease in 2009 and 2011. Some of our experiences could fill a bucket with tears. Other times we find ourselves laughing so hard about something terrible that we'll say almost in unison: "Laugh Til You Cry, Cry Til You Laugh!" Laughter has gotten us through a long season of goodbyes and losses and griefs.

Recently, as I was working out, I began laughing out loud about a crazy story from my favorite podcast, "This American Life." It struck me that people love stories, both funny and tragic, because they evoke empathy: "I thought it was just me, but it's not." So as I was walking in the neighborhood last week, I made a voice memo list of some stories I'd like to tell in the spirit of "Laugh Til You Cry, Cry Til You Laugh." I hope you'll enjoy them and write down your own.

A Little Preview: The Dress. The Lizard. Driving with Elders. Five Patients and Two Neurologists. Hospital Fireworks. The Support Group. The "Divorce". Lipstick. Wheels. Non-compliance. The Bulldog. Joyce. Picking Cemeteries. The Cast. Purple Velour. Elephant in the Kitchen. The Resort. Oink Brown. Rising to the Occasion. Church and Sausage Biscuits. Activities. Hazel. Fred Mertz. Billy. Blinking Lights and the Reunion. Beautiful Cousin. The New Cadillac. The Secret. The Handgun.