Memories Old and New

Here I am 78 years old already.  I’ve never been this old before so I had no idea what to expect or how to feel.  I can’t even remember when this journey started.  One of the first things I can remember is going down to the garage and getting oil on the sailor suit I got for my 4th birthday.

 

 

 

 Mama was so disappointed in me. (Her words.) That garage, owned and operated by LeGrand and William Heaton—Mama’s double first cousins--was a nemesis for us all the time we were growing up.  Evidently, we liked to throw rocks on the roof and evidently, they didn’t like us to; so every once in awhile when they completely lost their patience, they would insist we climb up on the roof and throw all the rocks off.  I remember one time Lucy bawling her head off at the injustice and humiliation of it all.  Shirley and Lynn James, who probably neither one threw a single rock up on the garage, obediently climbed up and quietly threw the rocks off.  I remember DeLoy and me out to the herd holding our hands out until flies lit on them and snapping them shut trying to kill them.  I remember the corrals we built to hold our mud horses and coming home so dirty and chapped, I hoped no one would see us before we got our baths.  I remember Aunt Lucy’s family walking by inviting us to go cook our supper up on the hill with them.  Memories throughout the years flash back on my birthday: 

Off to "playschool" with my nap rug tucked under my arm. 
Our families had to buy the nap rug and a little chair.

 With the back cut off, it is now a stool, painted white.
We keep it in the dining room and use it to this day to reach high places.

the school years, teens, marriage, finally a family, grandparenthood.  In my next life, I’m going to be the oldest in my birth family and older than my husband if I’m a woman again.  I’m tired of those older than me acting like its no big deal when I turn 78 and “how does it feel to be so young?”  I’m also tired of DeRay acting like we’re the same age.  “Let me be my age!”  Since at 78, I’m still cooking three meals a day, cleaning and gardening and canning like I’m young or something, I wanted to eat out for my birthday.  I was so looking forward to it.  Alas, DeRay decided it was too expensive and that we should eat at home.  I was so disappointed.  After all was said and done, he was right.  He may have regretted it before the night was over, but I enjoyed the entire evening.  I talked on the phone with my son, Brent, granddaughter, Brigitte, tried to skype with Naomi but we couldn’t get the sound to work.  At least, I got to see my three Raytown grandchildren.  I talked to my brother, DeLoy; sister, Verla.  Carol called but we missed it.  All the while DeRay was making a gluten free cake, peeling potatoes, making a salad.  Brooke, Klarissa, and Karlton came at 5 and pitched in.  When Amy got home, she helped.  I didn’t even do a dish.  And then we played games.  Isaak joined us for that.  I told them we were going to play Button-Button, London Bridge, and pin the tail on the donkey but they didn’t know what I was talking about.

After unloading the dishwasher, Ed settled down to read his Kindle.  It's such a good book.

To cap off the evening, the guys watched the Utah State/BYU game.

Did Klarissa and I set a record?  We used every tile.

Oh yes, a selfie.

The Next Day
with my sisters, Carol and Verla; cousin, Verda; and daughter, Amy. 

Dancing with the Witch.

Eating with the Witch

The Three Stooges--I mean SISTERS.

Hollyhocks bring back childhood memories of dolls.

Here we are playing baseball!

The Gifts

From Verda

From my sisters: Shirley, Carol, and Verla.  Verla is our designated shopper.
Now, if I just had a wedding or graduation to go to!

From Brooke, Elizabeth and family.  We admired Elizabeth's swim suit cover so guess what?
Brent asked me if I were going to hike to Francis Peak on my birthday.
"No, but Eddy and I went swimming and for a nice trike ride in the warm sunshine.
"I'll bet that's more than any of of my predecessors did on a 78th birthday."
(Lynn's not a predecessor; he's a contemporary.)

Jelly Beans from DeRay.

I read somewhere that the average person gets 5-1/2 cards for his/her birthday.  I always count because I want to be above average.  I feared that with phone calls, e-mails, and Facebook, I wouldn't meet my quota but I did.  Of course, I count phone calls, e-mails and Facebook.  Absolutely.  I also count books from Brent and Jan that came early. 

 These are my two special handcrafted cards.  1. Elizabeth.  2.  Amy Jayne

Some people give gifts all year long, like DeRay and Amy.
Some people never give gifts, like Ed.
He was excited about my impending birthday.
"I can hardly wait to see what you give me," I tease.
"You're getting NOTHING."
"Nothing?  You can't give me nothing.  That's what I'm giving you for your birthday.
You've got to think of something else."

Not only a swimsuit cover but a lovely plant from Brooke & Elizabeth.  Calla Lily.

More cards.  Towels from Verda.

One card missing this year.

While we were at Snowbird, my longtime faithful friend, Connie Gordon, was buried.
We didn't find out until we got home.
We could have gone to her funeral in American Fork.

She never missed sending a card on my birthday.

Alison Reeder never misses either.

I was born on her mother's birthday.

I told her if she wanted me to remember her birthday,

she should have been born on my mother's birthday.

She turned 87 in August.
Donna Graf always sends a nice card,
my friend Suzanne gifts and cards me,
also my nice visiting teachers;
and one x-visiting teacher and forever friend remembers.

*

Only Debbie Beus is left

of the three people I knew who were born on October 3.

My double-first cousin, Nan, and I always exchanged gifts.

Years ago, I called my classmate Flossy on our shared birthday

and her husband said,

"Flossy?  We buried her last week."

In case you're wondering,

that's what it's like to turn 78.