More on kindness

I find myself inspired this evening sitting at the kitchen table of the J. Marc Taylor family in Andover, Ks. My family is on the frontside of a last week of summer "stay cation" and although we are over 150 miles from home, we are visiting family, the kids are sleeping on the floor, and we're pretty much just hunkered down enjoying each other's company... so this still qualifies as a stay cation. The reason for my inspiration is that I just finished catching up on reading the spirit of Maxine blog -- Jan's most recent 3 postings. I wanted to say that I am honored to be mentioned 3 times in Jan's posts.

Just a bit of background, my kindness offer to a friend was to a lady I work with who's dad was suddenly ill and hospitalized. I actually know her dad as I used to work in an office at Tinker adjacent to his -- and he was always a very kind person and a true servant for the people.

In reading Jan's posting about kindness I am reminded about a trip to Fort Supply Oklahoma in our '63 Ford Fairlane (white with a green roof - another very interesting story involving my dad, a shotgun, and the most probable cause for my poor hearing). I remember how excited we were to be on the road with dad as he had hurried home from work that day, packed us and our things into the car and headed down the road west. It was the Friday before Christmas of 1966 and we (my dad, me, and my two brothers) were on our way to see my mom, at Western State (mental) Hospital. A set of circumstances that makes this story just that much more poignant. Anyway, we had car trouble -- I think it was a water pump or maybe just a belt, but whatever it was pegged the engine temperature gage and stopped us in our tracks. Luckily, or maybe by design, my dad stopped at a spot on the side of the road a hundred feet from the only farmhouse within 20 miles in either direction along our route. I remember it was early in the evening and starting to get very cold when my dad went up and knocked on the door to ask to borrow their phone. I'm sure he was relieved to find the home's inhabitants to be kind people. Indeed, they were so very kind that they insisted on corralling my two brothers and me into their living room where we laid on the floor in front of their TV eating cookies, drinking hot cocoa, and watching, for the first time, The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Eventually, my grandpa arrived with the necessary replacement parts and he and my dad repaired the car and got us on the road again. To this day, I cannot watch that Christmas season program without thinking about the kindness of those people and how they freely opened their home to us.

OK, I promise to post at least two more times here this week while I'm off. And thank you to my wonderful aunt Jan, for the inspiration!

Life and Death

I was blindsided lately by the news of an old Eddie Bauer colleague's death. Sandy was warm hearted, kind, beautiful, talented, generous. She was full of integrity and joy. She had three sons and a husband. How could she possibly be dead. Why does death always take us by such surprise? People always die. It's what happens. To everyone. All the time. Every day. And yet like innocent babes we cover our mouth in a horrified "no."

Death happens right in the middle of life.

Another colleague, also from my Eddie Bauer days, found me via Facebook. She and her husband are semi-retired, living in Florida part time and a forty foot boat at Everett Marina part of the time. Her son has lived in Japan, Prague, New York. Her daughter has a ski rental shop in Steamboat Springs. Cully's life is continuing joyfully. It was thrilling to make this connection with such a kind, beautiful, talented, generous person again after all these years.

Death happens right in the middle of life, our life. In the middle of babies being born, heat waves, or triple hitters. In the middle of Claire being told your cancer is gone. Life goes on gently, passionately, confusedly, delightfully.

Ian's ninety pound friend, Nila, had an 8 lb 11 oz baby Olivia.
A tenth of her body weight.
Lisa is down to counting hours until her peanut is born.
Sandy is off to Dragon Boat races in Victoria this weekend.
She's a rower not a watcher. You passionate girl you.
Ian is preparing for the gift show in beautiful downtown Seattle.
Connor rode a horse.
We added a book Andrew mentioned to the book club reading list.
Brittany is off to college.
Art heals.
I found two delightful place names while doing my job:
Fruit Hill Red Bridge Road in Crofton KY
Right Fork Maces Creek Road in Viper KY
Makes me want to go to KY.
Our local weather site mentioned OK. The Midwest is still sizzling, which means the Northwest...isn't. There was an interesting note today that the state of Oklahoma just set a U.S. national record for a state's highest average temperature in a month. Oklahoma averaged 89.1 degrees for the entire month of July, breaking the old record of 88.1. But what I found interesting was that the old record was set in 1954. 1954 was a record month in Washington too, but on the flip side -- it was among the coldest on record. Most of the cold records we've been chasing this spring and summer were set in 1954. In that year, there were only two days that reached the 80 degree mark, and that was it. This summer, Seattle has had five days at 80 or better with a high water mark of 84. If the 84 holds as our warmest summer temperature, it would tie with 1957 for second-lowest max summer temp.

Chicken gets cooked. Movies get watched. Facebook get read.
I go to work, come home, write on this blog, go to book club.
So far for sixty-five years I have woke up and lived.
I laugh, sigh, cringe, bake, clean, and do a minimum of dusting.

Maybe that is where the horrified "no" comes from. Death appearing in our midst like a dead fly on our whipped cream life living concoction. Or the antiseptic quality of death in America. The distance Americans have to holding dead bodies. We have delegated the washing and preparing bodies for burial. We have delegated the closing of the eyes, the final folding of the hands.

How I love life. I love anticipating Greenleaf and The Taylor Family Reunion. I love anticipating what new tee-shirt design Mark will come up with or playdates with Connor. I love life and I remember fondly all the persons I have loved. All of my sons who died, husband, brother, wife, mother, father, niece, nephew, friends, in-laws, aunts, uncles.

On reflection I believe being horrified by death is right and proper. The death of someone we love, admire, or will miss should be a terrible experience. Yes we will all die. Yes we will remember fondly someone who has died. Yes dying is part of the cycle of being a human, but may we never never never never become used to it.

For now I chose life.

May your day be filled with living and maybe a fond remembrance of some one gone.

Kindness Creatures

I was reading FaceBook one day and noticed Mark Harris' post offering his home, his help, or his services to someone he knew who was asking for prayers for a family member at Mercy Hospital. This stuck me then as a generous act of kindness.

Kindness has been lurking just below the surface of my brain ever since. I kept wanting to blog about kindness but what do you say? It's kind to be kind? Not inspiring, informative or profound.

I reflected back on all the times I was a recipient of kindness; from Jane buying me lunch in high school to the stranger who drove me and my dying baby to the hospital. Or the stranger in Pendlelton Oregon who let me collapse in her living room while I was trying to overcome heat stroke. She had had a similar experience with heat once and recognized the signs. She brought me ice and orange juice and took care of Roger while I panted helplessly on the floor of her home for several hours. Or the time when something broke on my car and it was billowing thick black smoke and my friend Lynn followed me to the car repair shop so she could come between me and any other innocent driver who happened to find themselves in my noxious smoke.

Humans give; helping hands, a ride, coffee, loans, lunches; gifts of times, effort, sharing of, or reaching out. Kindness seems to bubble to the surface without thought. Some innate automatic response, part of the parasympathetic nervous system. Humans are kind. And the mathematics of kindness is dramatic. It is astounding that it doesn't matter if we are giving or receiving, the affects are the same.

Some things we can not do alone. At Maxine's wake the elderly Native gentlemen took the burden from the family so Josephine and Adam could bear their grief. Jane needing help in Kansas. My divorce. Claire's cancer.

Kindness might burble to the surface without any guidance from our conscious mind but then it needs action. Participation. As we groan under the weight of the human condition kindness needs love.

And another human being.

Happy Birthday to Me, Happy Birthday to Me

Now Brittany knows how to make me happy: Here is her facebook post for you all to learn from:

Happy Birthday to the most quirkiest, unusual, sometimes kooky and mostly wacky great aunt Jan i know! see you in October, hope your day is as wonderful as you! love you!

What a day I had, starting with my note, drawing, and card from Ian at 4 am, then the rain over Seattle and the drunk truck weaving down the highway on the way to work, he should have been on the wrong side of the road. The Larsen's Bakery Kringle on the way home that was sugar delicious. I haven't eaten the whole thing yet, but I plan to. Calls cards and messages galore. Lunch with Jo-Anne from work also delicious, Olive Garden, and she only had to speak to the manager once. A bad movie, Chaplin, with Robert Downey. A bit more of my Lincoln book. I picked up The Alchemist from the library on Mark H's recommendation but haven't started it yet. Whales from Jeff. Lots of whales from Jeff, now I am addicted and he will have to send more. So besides turtles I now have a fantastic whale collection. Ian can turn the old fashioned screw on earrings into lovely drop pierced earrings. Thank you Jeff, I still love you more than bacon. My birthday meals have lasted for a week and will continue through Friday. The temperature never got over 72. Yep just about perfect in every way.

I also got whale earrings from the Bowman's, but that was a thank you for the taxi ride and not happy birthday. The taxi ride was just a little wild, so I reminded them that when they come to Seattle they are in for an extreme adventure not a mild one. And Tal I went down the wrong side of the road the second time on purpose -- yeah right.

Little things add up to great blessings and I felt them all. Sometimes life is beautiful.

You know you are a Taylor when you go on an Alaskan cruise and fuss because you can't get coffee before 6AM. Wacky Kids. And Nora and Andrew felt the pinch of no Internet service out over the Pacific Ocean. Wacky Kids.

So, to all you Wacky Kids out there: I love you more than bacon, more than Turkish towels, more than a Kringle from Larsen's, more than dirt, more than luggage, more than cell phones, but not more than Connor.

Connor who had a sweet little temper tantrum because his daddy said no. No to what you ask? No to yogurt. I said Roger most parents bribe their kids to eat yogurt and you are telling Connor no! Well it seems that if Connor gets yogurt first he won't eat his dinner. So there you have it.

I love you more than yogurt.

Roger and Stephanie did have a great time doing the Ragnar run. He called it a frenetic, fun, rolling, athletic circus. Sandy, since you have signed up for a 5k, maybe you and your colleagues can sign up for a Ragnar. Talk to Roger. It turns out that eating and sleeping, or not sleeping as the case maybe, in the chase van is fun. It seems that three-hundred teams of twelve running from Canada to Langley with each team having two vans is fun. Maybe, if you have enough bananas.

I love you more than bananas.

Claire goes for her PET scan today for a tumor check. I'm going with her to see the doctor on Monday for the results. She said I don't want to be alone if it's bad news.

May you always have a companion when you hear bad news.

I love you.

Hip, Hip Hur-ray and Sail Away

... And has everyone had happy birthdays? Jean, Jeff, Tal, Curtis, Laura, Nora?

We will be having a good birthday soon, right Amber? As for me I'm ready for the big six-five. I can handle it, I have my medicare card and am ready to get old.

Kathy Noland wants to come to the Pacific NW to see the whales, I figure I qualify.

The Bowman family have sailed North to Alaska. I picked them up at the airport and only got lost four times getting them to their downtown hotel. Roger's truck was a dream to drive if a tad biggish -- but that is what was called for for the extra large suitcases. I'm not going to mention driving down the wrong side of the street. Poor Tal!

My twenty-four hour play date with Connor starts tomorrow night as Roger and Stephanie do their 250 mile Ragnar run. What's a Ragnar run? Well it is some kind of 12 member team effort relay race. Each runner completes 3 or 4 legs of the race running about 5 to 10 miles each leg. That's all I know folks, except you eat and sleep in the chase van and it is supposed to be lots of fun. FUN? I'll get back to you on that.

I'm planning a son's dinner for my birthday. I decided it would be a vegetarian meal; all fruits and vegetables. Ian was alarmed. Christian said so I'm supposed to eat before I get there. Roger and Stephanie took it in stride. I'm planning Aunt Fanny's Squash casserole, green beans and new potatoes, noodles alfredo, humus and sushi, fruit and whip cream, and peach cobbler with ice cream for dessert. I'm hungry all ready.

We heated up to almost eighty degrees the other day, still overcast with wee sun breaks and steamy. My empathy goes out to all you suffering from the heat. I understand cooler air is on the way.

Art is home from hip replacement surgery and doing well. I talked to Janice and she said Art is a pretty good patient but she is getting exhausted being the pretty good nurse. He is having a lot of pain in his neck and shoulder, probable due to using muscles he has never used before.

The therapist who comes twice a week said Art is one of his top 5 patients. Art is really working hard. The three big don't's were: don't cross your legs, don't lean over more than 90 degrees, and don't twist. He is house restricted until further notice. Has to sleep flat on his back so he usually sleeps in the recliner.

Like I said Janice says she is exhausted and Julie is a trooper. Jacquie and Julie prepared a special coming home from the hospital meal; a taco bar.

Art goes back to the doctor on the 27th. Janice said even though there was lots and lots of bruising that the wound looks pink and pretty, the incision is about 7 to 8 inches long with 17 to 19 staples.

Now if he could just go poop.

Love to all, may you have good bodily functions for all the rest of your days.

Happy birthday to us!

Sitting on my back porch with a back yard full of fun, family and fantastic food-- Lee Greenwood, Toby Keith, and Garth playing on the iPod dock and a great deal to be proud of... this country of ours. So much is taken for granted and we are hated by our enemies and those that say they are our friends but hate us anyway because that think we've got it wrong. The part our founders had right was, that men are not in charge of their own freedom. Because of our flawed nature, we cannot be. It is God who grants it and it is God alone who secures it, men are merely players. This holiday, take the time to thank God for our country and for the good it has done and also understand that when we are less than we should be, when we stray from what is right, it is because we try to take matters into our own hands instead of following the principles that He has provided for us. That is why our founders prayed before designing our government and included payer in the sessions devoted to governing our nation, but made sure that any government we built would not dictate, either for or against any specific religion. They knew that the wisdom of the people would prevail in such matters and that our nation would survive as long as we cared to keep God on our side.

Happy 4th to all.

Boy Stories

Boy Story 1:

I asked Christian if he wanted to come to Mukilteo on Father's Day because Jane, Jerry and I were going to Kosta's Greek restaurant. Ian had to work and Roger and Stephanie had plans with her dad. He said what time. I answered oh, somewhere between one and three. Plan set.

Around two pm Father's Day Jerry Jane and I are lounging around drinking coffee waiting for Christian when he calls and says where are you guys I'm sitting at Kosta's waiting for you. Not exactly mom's plan.

We grab shoes, turn off lights, lock the door, and dash up to Kosta's where we have a great Greek dinner. Back on the plan.

We talk and laugh and have a fun visit, but when the last bite of bread, salad, and Greek pasta goes into everyone's mouths Christian puts his hands palm down on the table and asks the universe "Well, are we done here?" Christian's plan I guess.

Jerry Jane and I couldn't decide if he had one hot date or if family duty was fulfilled, but which ever one it was, Christian was gone. Gotta love the boy.

Boy story 2:

Roger couldn't take Jerry and Jane to the train station Saturday morning because he had a race to run; Seattle's Rock n Rolla, 25,000 strong.

Ian was happy to do the duty but had a little trepidation because last time he took family to the train station there were some mix-ups and difficulty, but still he was game.

Now, have you ever tried to get to the downtown train station with 25,000 runners going for the finish line. After they had "official" help crossing a street during a lull in the runners there were still too many road blocks to overcome. They could see the station, they just couldn't get to the station. Finally the out of towners decided to walk from where they were.

It had a happy ending, because they made it to the train station, rode the train to California and made it to Janice's without any more obstacles. Early warning: Ian might not take any future visitors to the downtown train station.

Ian decided racers were annoying. Gotta love the boy.

Boy story 3:

At my last playdate with Connor we had a silly, tickly, goofy time. I chased him, he chased me, we kicked the ball and crashed the trucks, we sung songs and all fell down.

By now Granny is pooped so I sat on the couch and picked up a magazine.

Connor came running over and grabbed the magazine out of my hands, threw it on the ottoman and said "The End."

Gotta love the boy.