THANKSGIVING REFLECTIONS

We had been having Thanksgiving dinner with DeRay’s family down at Karen’s  in Murray as we had done for years.  Grandpa belonged to some union and he worked the lights at the Ice show at the Salt Palace.  He had asked DeRay to help him Thanksgiving night.  That left me to drive the children home.  Brent was 7 and Jeanne was 4.  DeRay had just built a new television from a kit and I was eager to get home and watch one of my favorite musicals.  It was snowing when we left Karen’s and it was scary every mile of the way home; the last mile being a dirt road, steep and slippery.   I wasn’t even sure I could find our turn-off.  Coming up Highway 89, a police fog horn bellowed:  “MOVE OVER.  MOVE OVER.”  “Don’t you know I’m a woman alone with two little kids and I can’t see the road and you want me to get off?” I cried to myself.  I thought they should guide me home but they just wanted me out of their way.  Probably going to an accident. We were living in the garage while DeRay built our house.  We had it partitioned off into two bedrooms and a living/kitchen room.  Quite cozy, really--if we hadn’t just moved from a big house on the hill in Bountiful.  We weren’t newly weds.  DeRay had completed four years of college; we had both worked for U.S. Steel, then he accepted a job at Hill Air Force Base and we had moved from Orem, to Layton, to Farmington, to West Layton and finally to our lovely home in Bountiful – and now had bought acreage in the Mutton Hollow District of Davis County near Kaysville.  After driving through the perilous blizzard that dark Thanksgiving night, I remember how wonderful it felt to be safe and warm in our little cottage watching a wonderful old musical on our new television set.

 

Not Thanksgiving but the time period is right. Bottom: Brett, Brent, Danny, Chad, Julie,. Middle: Cari, Lori, Jeanne, Chad. Top: Clare hold Kathi, Marilyn, Karen, Norm, Jeanette, DeRay.

Several years and two kids later, we were settled in our new home and the garage was once more a garage.  My mother just had brain surgery for the second time in two months, having been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor ten years before.  We wanted all of her children to spend Thanksgiving with her even though she couldn’t be in her own home.  We rented the church and all eight of her children and spouses and most of her grandchildren gathered. She didn’t get released from the hospital until late Thursday so Friday was Thanksgiving Day that year.  The evening before, when she had just gotten out of the hospital and was resting in bed, I was in the kitchen making dressing and several other essential items.  Looking out the window in the darkness, there was my brother, DeLoy and his wife, Grace, smiling and waving at me.  They had traveled the furthest, coming from California.  After all the trauma and sickness, what a warm and glorious feeling to see loved ones gather.

Thanksgiving 1973. Kaysville, Utah. Back: Jerry, Lynn, DeMoin, Charles Murphy, Charles Hart, DeRay, DeLoy. Middle: Lana Gale, Juanita, Lucy, Carol, Mama, Shirley, Jeanette, Grace. Front: Verla, Parl.

Back: Cindy, J. Lynn, Jayson, Calvin, Stan, Keenan. Row 2: Effie holding Melissa, Amy Jayne, Nellie holding Devin, Karla, Todd, Tim holding Tamber. Row 3: Connie, Jeanne, Grandma Esplin holding Eddy, Keri. Row 4: Boyd, Carl, Tena holding Brooke, Brent. Row 5: Lee, Bryan, Robert, David.  Bryant Sorensen was on a mission; Lynn Charles Hart may have been playing football.  Two grandchildren were born after this picture: Amy Lyn Hugh and Tara Esplin.

I liked another Thanksgiving just the year before.  With Brent, Jeanne, and almost 1-year-old Brooke, we traveled to Orderville to spend Thanksgiving with Mama.  Her kind and gentle husband whom we called Uncle Ed had died earlier in the year.  That was the second husband she had lost.  Mama had reared us kids ranging in age 1 year to 18 years after Daddy was killed.  When all but the two youngest were married and gone, she married again.  So on this bittersweet holiday, it was just the six of us.  Mama had had cobalt treatments plus surgery several times.  She was still Post Master and she prepared the dinner but she suffered acutely.  I was proud to be pregnant again, even so soon, because of all our struggles to get a family.  For those few hours on this Thanksgiving day, everything felt idyllic. 

Jeanne, Brooke, Jeanette, Brent, Amy Esplin

THE WRITER

Yesterday, I got on a bit of a tirade about being the maid.  “Sick or not, everyone has to carry his/her own dishes to the sink, rinse them off and put them in the dishwasher; pick up after him/herself;”  blah blah blah.  After the next meal, Ed let me know he had taken care of his own dishes.  DeRay isn’t so easily influenced.  Plopped in front of the TV, he says in his wry way, “When you’re gone, we’ll take the money that you cost us for food, housing, and clothing and hire someone to clean and cook for us.”

Ouch.

This must have dug deep into my psyche for as I slowly awakened this morning, I was dreaming that I grabbed the vacuum cleaner from a man DeRay had hired to do the cleaning.  As I pushed the vacuum back and forth, I thought “This will be the last time I’ll ever vacuum” – because – now I don’t know whether I was awake or asleep at this point - the man hadn’t come just to vacuum.  He had planted a bomb in the vacuum cleaner.  Don’t ask me why.  That wasn’t explained.  Was he part of some subversive group; or was he a madman acting on his own?  I know not.  All I know is that as I vacuumed everything blew to smithereens.   DeRay didn’t even have to pay for my burial because the explosion was so horrendous that only small bits of me could be found.  No one else was home but the house was demolished.  I don’t know what happened to the mysterious man.  Was he still in the house? 

Fully awake now, I thought:  “This is my first attempt at writing fiction.”  

How did I do?

Relaxed and Fantastic

Mom,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Since we can’t spoil you in person, we thought we would send you to a professional. 

We hope they pamper you and make you feel relaxed and fantastic.

We love you!

Brent, Jan, Jonathan, Naomi and Amanda

A Groupon for a 60-Minute Massage 

No, I’ve never had a professional massage in my life.

I’m a little apprehensive.

Maybe next week.

Over a month later, I make an appointment.

The phone voice was nice.

I’m already feeling pampered.

Using GPS I find the Red Orchid Spa

Arriving right on time.

“I have a Groupon,” I say as I hand it to her.

“So we need to make you an appointment.”

“No, I came for my appointment.”

“We don’t have you in the computer.”

She saw my name in her notebook

And even remembered the call

But she didn’t put it in the computer

No therapist was there.

So I go home, honestly a bit relieved.

All told, it took an hour.

She added hot towels and rocks

For the inconvenience.

I bravely make another appointment for Friday.

Those sensual satin curtains and eerie cubicles

Intimidate me so this time DeRay goes with me.

As we drive over,

I have a sense of dread,

Like it's a doctor’s appointment.

“Leave your clothes in the locker

Put on this robe and slippers

And then come in and fill our some papers.”

Health record.

Disclaimers.

Signature.

This is an MRI in disguise.

“I’m sorry,” the gentle voice said

when I tell her it feels like

I'm coming in for X-rays,

“This will be so lovely,

you won’t want to leave.”

And she was right!

It was virtually:

Heaven vs. Hell

Soft Music vs. Jackhammer Tremor

Soothing Rub vs. Claustrophobic Terror

Warm Rocks and Towels vs. Isolation

Twilight Bliss vs. Nightmare

I do not care if the temperature is dropping

And a storm is raging outside.

For almost two hours,

perfect calm; soothing tranquility;

No cares; no worries.

Let it all pass by

Right here

Right now

This moment in time.

What a great gift

For a tired old mom.

WISDOM OF THE AGES

I have a moment of illumination

When I’m fretting about something,

And Ed gets this little smirk on his face

Accusingly:  “You’re such a worry wart.”

It tickles me because it seems to be an archaic saying,

more from his grandmother’s time.

Where did he pick it up?

Is it the wisdom passed down through the ages?

Uncanny.

Did you hear about the telegram that read?

Start worrying  Details to follow  

Now that’s a worrier’s dream.

REINCARNATION REQUEST

Sometimes I wish I were a cat.

Amy comes home while I’m rushing to get dinner

     After having cleaned and sanitized the kitchen and bathrooms,

     Mopped the floors,

     Washed three batches of clothes, hanging them on the line;

     Mowed the lawn to pick up the leaves before snow falls again;

     After spending the morning

     Working with Eddy (my privilege), culminating in a trike ride;

Says not a word to me or Dad,

While tenderly cooing in this sweet high-pitched voice

when she sees Gnocchi:

“Oh, hi, Gnocchi, how you doing?”

as she gleefully picks him up and pets him.

     Maybe in the next life. . .

Post script:
As Eddy comes down for breakfast, he exclaims:
     "There's my buddy, Pancake."
     "Who licked the butter," I reply.
     "Don't be blaming the cat.
      Cats have feelings the same as we do."
Exactly.

Saying Goodbye to a Friend

I cherish the image of

Ed hugging LeAnne Jackson after church.

 At least a minute.

I stood in awe.

They released her husband from the bishopric today.

They are building a new house and are moving.

I’m sure Ed said something like, “I’m going to miss you.”

 I’m pretty sure he shed tears.

I couldn’t see LeAnne’s face.

Brad has been our hometeacher for a year or two.

 Quite often, LeAnne sends warm chocolate chip cookies with him.

She and her 4-year-old son make them every Sunday.

 Amy loves them so much that sometimes Ed doesn’t get any.

So it isn’t the cookies he’s going to miss.

11.11.11

PART I

Amy invited her dad to be honored at her school

On Veteran’s Day.

Not just any Veteran’s Day

11.11.11

It was one of the most amazing afternoons of my life.

Nary a word about Halloween

Yet Veterans’ Day is important stuff.

But I get ahead of my story.

The evening before

She tactfully primed us.

She didn’t come right out and say it;

Just inferred we were not to embarrass her.

“You will want to be on time.

At least 5 minutes early.”

Giving us detailed instructions

On how to get there

And where to park.

She and her dad studied the map.

A little later, she casually said,

“The kids will all be in uniform,

You know, white shirts and ties,

Vests, plaid skirts, khaki dress pants.”

“We’ll dress up,” I promise.

“Just no sweats and like that.”

Did she think we’d show up in our pajamas?

Never know.

After that settled in,

She tackled proper propriety.

“You probably won’t talk to anyone,

but IF you should sit at a table with

the Executive Director

or my assistant corners you,

or anyone. . .

remember

no one needs to know

where I went to school

where I live

what religion I am

where I worked before.”

“Can’t we even tell them

you changed your last name?”

Dress code?  Manners?  Behavior?  Anything else?

We better say our prayers tonight.

PART II

A field of flags waved bravely in the breeze

As we circled the front of the school.

Young ambassadors in red, white, and blue vests

Meet us at the car;

And lining both sides of the entry and hallway,

Welcome us as special guests.

They shake hands and visit with us

During the reception and light lunch.

Eye contact, politely asking questions.

Amy told us later they had been coached.

They all reminded me of Jonathan.

He would fit right in this school and

Be a good ambassador with his impeccable manners.

Brigitte too,

But she already has a school and a niche,

Isaak as well.

The Junior High Orchestra softly played patriotic songs

Contributing to the overall swelling of patriotism

And love of country.

Over 750 children were already seated in the gymnasium

(barely finished for this program)

when we were escorted to our reserved seats.

Each class sang with fervor and articulation a patriotic song;

The sixth grade did an interactive choral reading

The Things that Make a Soldier Great

A guest speaker;

Actually on the faculty at one of the campuses,

Retired from the Navy

Petty Officer 1^st Class.

Presented slides of fellow servicemen

Who were injured in the line of duty.

Highlighting their bravery; courage; and determination.

He was in Afghanistan for Thanksgiving last year.

Four student essay winners presented.

Vibrant; energetic; sincere.

Tutored to look at the audience at intervals.

You could hear every word.

The last remarks were by the Founding Board Chair.

 “Why do we celebrate Memorial Day

at the American Preparatory Academy?

It’s not my favorite holiday.

I like to open presents on Christmas;

The Easter bunny bringing me chocolate eggs;

Setting off firecrackers on the 4^th of July.

When I got a little older,

I liked Valentine ’s Day;

And when I went off to college,

I loved Thanksgiving with my mom’s home cooking.

Why Veteran’s Day?

It would be scary to go off to war;

To go to places you don’t want to go

And do things you don’t want to do.

But these veterans did it.

They did it so the next generation of children

Could celebrate Christmas;

And Thanksgiving;

And set off firecrackers on the 4^th of July.

So that we could have the freedom to

Choose our friends, how many children we will have;

What career we will have.

Maybe someday, you’ll be called to sacrifice

For the children who come after you.

There are evil people in the world plotting mean things;

Thinking they are smarter than anyone,

Telling you do everything the way they say;

Ruling by power and force.”

It was a tear-jerker.

There were Kleenex boxes every few seats

Where the honored guests sat.

Amy said her class was affected.

Many of them crying.

The Star-Spangled Banner.

Having the veterans stand

During the Armed Forces Salute;

Calling each one by name and service;

Asking them to individually stand

So the Ambassadors could give each

A pin on a star-shaped hand-written note.

DeRay’s said:

“Dear Honored Veteran,

Thank you for serving and fighting for our Country.

Because of you, I’m free, and so are my friends

and family.  I stand here free because of you.

It means so much.  Couldn’t thank you enough.

Sincerely, Cassidy, 8^th grade,

American Prep Student.”

There was only one other veteran

From the Korean War besides DeRay.

Two or three from World War II.

Most from Vietnam.

Both men and women from the Gulf War;

Afghanistan and Iraq.

Even Peacetime.

A mother of one of Amy’s students

Is in the Coast Guard and served a tour of duty.

DeRay hates Veterans’ Day programs that glamorize killing.

At least that’s what I thought until today.

Today I found out he doesn’t like to stand when

They sing the Army song

Because he was in the Army for only two years,

While spending 23 years working on an air base,

As a civilian, of course,

Doing Air Force stuff.

With this new insight,

He’s proud to have served his country,

Civilian and military.

For all of this,

The entire studentbody sat basically motionless, soundless,

Except when performing.

Poised.  Respectful.

It’s called The American Preparatory Academy

But for all the world

It looks like an International School.

Few Blacks and Whites;

(Even then, Amy says English is a second language for most of the whites.)

Every color and nationality in between.

A beautiful sea of diverse faces

All dressed in identical uniformity;

Honoring the men and women

Who fought for their freedom.

Veterans and their families walked across the front

And shook hands with the dignitaries

As the students clapped.

The Walk of Honor, they called it.

I wasn’t even being honored,

I am not a veteran,

But I believe it is the first time in my 75 years

I have walked the Walk of Honor.

It felt good.

Amy winked at us.

PART III:

We were standing in the foyer to leave

When Amy came marching by

Followed by her class in single file.

She motioned us to follow.

No talking in the halls.

When we got to her classroom

And all the kids were in their seats

She introduced her dad.

He told them a little bit about being drafted

And his tour of duty in Germany during the Korean War.

She introduced Ed and me,

then asked the class if they wanted to show us

how smart they are.

In unison, without any aid from Amy,

they recited Jabberwocky.

"Jabberwocky"
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Jabberwocky" is a nonsense verse poem written by Lewis Carroll in his 1872 novel Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There.  In a scene in which she is in conversation with the chess pieces White King and White Queen, Alice finds a book written in a seemingly unintelligible language. Realizing that she is traveling through an inverted world, she recognizes that the verses on the pages are written in mirror-writing.  She holds a mirror to one of the poems, and reads the reflected verse of "Jabberwocky". She finds the nonsense verse as puzzling as the odd land she has walked into.  "Jabberwocky" is considered one of the greatest nonsense poems written in English.  Its playful, whimsical language has given us nonsense words and neologisms such as "galumphing" and "chortle".  On U-tube, we found the University of Utah Chorale singing it; as well as the Muppets and others.

Later, she told us they have learned four poems already.

Inner-city kids behind their grade level.

(They estimate it will take 2 years for them to rise above grade level)

Tell me about it.

To me, they are brilliant.

How could 5^th graders learn Jabberwocky

And deliver it in precise accentuated unison?

Did I mention,

It’s been an amazing afternoon?

11.11.11

  Won’t happen again for 100 years.

  No one alive today

  Will be alive then.

  Probably.

  

Vets Day assembly 

Salt Lake Tribune

Published: November 19, 2011 01:01AM

As a grateful, honored U.S. Army veteran, I thank the American Preparatory Academy in West Valley City for its wonderful Veterans Day Assembly.

How refreshing to receive the gifts of a handshake, song and instrumental music from these well-mannered charter school students. Representing a kaleidoscope of ethnicity, these young men and women display an uncommon love for excellence in education, America’s freedoms and her military veterans.

The school, its faculty, students and supportive parents are West Valley gems. I salute you.

Michael L. Prows

West Jordan

  Unfortunately, he didn't even hear Amy's class recite Jabberwocky!