Doing The Right Thing

July 17, 2012

Grandpa Bill with Patrick, Baby Coree and Troy 1997

What a whirlwind week.  We received the news of Bill's passing, and it sent us on a roller coaster ride...both emotionally and logistically.  I've read somewhere, or heard it said (or maybe both) that grief is magnified when you've been estranged from a family member who passes away.  It sounded reasonable to me, but I never really gave it that much thought until I was watching my husband try to navigate through it.  I don't have anything to compare it with, since I've never lost an immediate family member (estranged or otherwise) but it makes sense.  It adds another whole dimension to the process.  Instead of looking back on fond memories and loving bonds, you have heartache and regret.  There is no closure.  The relationship won't be "fixed" in this life.  It drudges up old wounds...and the complexity of the situation makes casual conversation about the passing difficult...and unfortunately, since getting a family back to the USA from overseas to attend the funeral involves a ton of conversation, it wasn't always pleasant this week.  

We learned first hand that the less you say, the better.  A heart-felt, "I'm so sorry for your loss" is really all that's needed.  Sympathy cards are awesome.  Probing questions are not helpful.  I told Cliff the next time someone asked if he and his dad were "close," he needed to answer with, "No, but thank you for reminding me that my dad was an alcoholic who never really had the capacity to love me, who shut me out of his life, regardless of my attempts to reach him."  I know people mean well, and I'm certain I've said plenty of dumb things myself, but it was a lesson to me to try my best to think about the possible answers to the questions before asking them.  It hurt my heart SO much to listen to him try to field these kinds of remarks graciously.  On the flip-side, I appreciated SO much those who were so kind and reached out to him, encouraged him to go to the funeral, and bent over backward to make sure it happened (even though Cliff is covering three jobs this summer...which meant others would have to pick up lots of slack).

Anyway, for the first few hours after we got the news, we didn't even think we'd go back for the funeral.  We didn't know if there was going to be a funeral.  His dad's wife was completely bewildered, her sister was trying to help from Alaska, Cliff was trying to help from Japan.  It was just madness.  Because of the time difference, we were making lots of late night and early morning phone calls.  We were trying to figure out what family members could come and when, as well as the details of the arrangements, the obituary, travel, etc.  Most family members didn't think they'd be able to attend, but as the days went on, things started to come together.  Schedules were rearranged, hearts were softened, plans were made, and Cliff put together a funeral from across the ocean.  I was in awe.  It would have been easy to bow out.  In addition to all the other factors (which would cause most anyone to give him a "free pass" from involvement).....we live on the other side of the world, for Pete's sake!  But in spite of it all, he did the right thing, and poured his heart into the arrangements.  Even though his dad wasn't a member, the local LDS ward where his dad lived was so generous in offering their help.  We were overwhelmed by their kindness.

So, tomorrow we start our journey to make the best of things.  Will there be family drama?  Psshhh...we're counting on it.  But we're also counting on the healing that gathering with loved-ones will bring...with people we won't even have to say a word to, because they'll get what a giant, soup-sandwich the whole situation has been, and they will help share the emotional burden.  Most importantly, Cliff will do his best to honor his dad the best he can...and have no regrets about it.

Finally Decorating the Tree

We decorated our tree about two weeks later than usual. December seemed to be even more front-loaded than usual this year. Am I the only one who thinks people think they need to plan something early before people get "busy" only to find that everyone has planned their stuff early...so then we are all REALLY busy...then it slows down approaching Christmas? Maybe in the US, people need to do that because people travel for Christmas, but here, people rarely travel for Christmas. It seems that if they want to go home, they want to do it in the summer when they don't have to rush right back. Anyway, just an observation.



It was a lovely afternoon with the family.



We watched "A Christmas Story" while we worked.

Gorgeous. Coree doesn't like my patriotic twist. She says the streamers should be red, white and green because those are the colors of Christmas. She says there's no blue in Christmas. I tell her the tree is green...that's green enough. If I put red, white and green streamers up, people would think I was going for a Mexican theme. In Japan. On a US military base. People would talk.
(Love ja, MEH-hee-ko...Feliz Navidad!)


I get super-sentimental over Christmas ornaments, anyway, but this year, particularly so. I swear, I remember who gave us each and every ornament, and I always think of the giver (or the occasion I bought it for, if I bought it) when I hang them on the tree.



I had forgotten I'd be unwrapping this one. It's simple enough, but this one is very special. April made it for us with her older daughter years ago. I love to unwrap it every year, and I always think of her...but this year it was another reminder that she's gone. I'm especially glad I have this reminder of her now, though...it will be treasured...just like the ornaments Cliff's grandma gave us over the years.



Here's another that made me weepy. I knew I'd be opening this one, though...



And then this one...which seems especially fitting now, with its halo and wings.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

I finally got up the courage...

To donate Brownie's things. A representative from the local American animal rescue came to pick it all up.



Including her kennel. I was beginning to wonder if it would always be in our living room. It just seemed too much effort to remove it.

I was fine while helping her load everything in her van...until I was walking back to the house. Then I fell to pieces and went to my room and had a really good, long cry.

I have to say, I was relieved that when I emailed her to set this up, she didn't try to talk to me about adopting or fostering another dog. I was grateful she just expressed appreciation for the donations and left.

Another step in the process.

April

I can't believe she's gone. Ever since I received the news back in March from April's husband, I've known this day would come. Ever since I read and googled those words from his email, "stage IV pulmonary adenocarcinoma," I've opened every Caring Bridge update, wondering if this was going to be the one...but today, even before I opened it, I knew.

Back in late February, April had been kind of scarce on Facebook...not unusual considering she had started back to school and her husband had deployed to Afghanistan. I didn't think much of it. Didn't know of the acute symptoms she had been experiencing that sent her to the hospital. Even as I read Glen's email in March, I was alarmed that he had been sent home, but was not immediately thinking the worst...there could be lots of reasons they'd send a Marine home, right? As the reality sunk in as I read his words, "most aggressive form" "late stages"...it was hard to then transition with him as he wrote of "standing in faith" and "right to be healed." I was still reeling and screaming in my head. I immediately got on my knees. Actually, I think the first thing I did was email Cliff (who was on an exercise in Korea) and my chaplain spouses group and asked them to pray with me for this Marine family...then I got on my knees and did the same. And continued to pray for a miracle.

I prayed in my usual way, as we've been instructed...for His will to be done...and for the courage to accept it...but added my own pleading for it to PLEEEAAASSE be His will that she live...that she get to continue to be the amazing wife to her husband, the fabulous mother to her four young children, the friend everyone felt lucky to have. But even as I prayed, I knew that was not always his will. Sometimes fabulous, angelic mothers die. Sometimes it's His will that fathers come home too soon for their families' liking. I knew this. I've experienced it in my own family. But I couldn't help praying and thinking this was entirely unfair.

I wanted to have as much faith as April...I really did. She had SO much faith...but I've known that about her ever since we met 13 years ago. So many of our conversations centered around faith. Although we are both Christian, we belong to different faith groups. Her journey to Christ was similar to mine, though...troubled upbringing, muddling her way through to find Him in adulthood. But where I am boisterous and sometimes bossy by nature, she was gentle and meek...quick to smile, slow to judge, and absolutely sparkled from the inside out. I can still hear her gentle voice in my mind (a tender mercy) as I go over some of the conversations that we've had. I remember calling April after receiving the phone call telling me that another good friend of mine (who I had just been chatting with at church the day before) was in the hospital, having discovered her full term baby would be stillborn. I was hysterical. April said, "let's pray for them right now"...and when I started but could barely even speak through the sobs, she took over, and lifted them up in the most beautiful prayer, right there over the phone...a prayer which also lifted me up and gave me the strength to do all that I could to help this friend through grief and funeral details.

Considering how much her example has helped me in my life, it is ironic the way we were introduced. I was supposed to be helping her. She was referred to me through an autism early intervention support group. Her two year old daughter was newly diagnosed with autism. Even though we lived in the same neighborhood, we had several phone conversations before finally meeting in person. Talking to her and being with her were just so easy...it's hard to explain. She was such a patient mother...one of my first examples of home schooling, too...as she was also home schooling her oldest daughter through all of this.

During those years, she and I were both truly in the thick of it...each having 4 babies pretty close together, Cliff worked full time and was in grad school full time. Glen also went to school at night...and did an unaccompanied tour over here to Okinawa at one point. We were both navigating IEPs, neurology, Regional Center...on top of our already challenging lives as Marine wives.

We shared our beliefs with each other. One of my favorite April memories involved me locking myself in the bathroom to get away from my rowdy kids while I answered her questions about the Articles of Faith of my church. She was sharing with me the similarities with her own Pentecostal beliefs (the faith group she had belonged to when she started going to church...she was then attending a non-denominational Christian church).

Another story took place after she had moved a few hours north (during her husband's Okinawa tour). Some LDS missionaries had knocked on her door. Now, she was not looking for a new church, she was happy with her own...but she said she let them in because she knew they were from my church. She told me that during their visit, they had offered to help her with anything she needed. She asked them how they felt about hornets nests. The Elders set up a time to come back and get rid of the hornets. What April wanted to know from me, was if they really just wanted to help her, or if they were going to be disappointed when she didn't join their church. I assured her that they truly did want to help her, that in fact, service was part of their mission. I also told her I couldn't promise they wouldn't be disappointed...but that I knew they most of all just wanted to help her. Still to this day, I love that visual of those Elders fighting the hornets in their quest to serve my friend.

There are other stories too personal (or even sacred) to share here...but just know that she was such an example of patience, forgiveness and long-suffering. She was simply amazing.

I stopped trying to understand the "why's" a long time ago. Some things are just impossible to reason out. But like Nephi, even though I do not know the meaning of all things, I DO know, without a shadow of a doubt, that our Father in Heaven loves his children. All of us. He has the power to use all circumstances for his purposes, even when they are not evident to us.

I also know that I will never think of distance quite the same again. A trip from coast to coast? After dealing with an entire ocean...no biggie. How I wish I could get in a car and drive to her funeral right now. Even better...how many visits would we have gotten in between March and now? She only lived about four hours away from where we were last stationed...but she moved there from across the country after we had already moved to Japan. Such is life in the military...but I still can't help feeling ridiculous for just taking for granted we'd have another opportunity to be stationed together. I was just sure that we would...that we had plenty of time.

After all is said and done, I know it doesn't matter whether I mourn in California or on Okinawa. It's more important that I continue to pray for her family, and have faith in God's plan...and gratitude for the lessons she taught me.

See you in Heaven, April. Put in a good word for me, K?

Our life as a dog family

My favorite picture, ever.


Since the last post was already so long, I felt like I really needed to do write what I wanted to say in two parts. The other post talked about her death, but I wanted to talk about her life, too.



This was our second Christmas with Brownie.

We adopted Brownie in August of 2001. As a 3 year old dog, she found herself being picked up as a stray by the animal shelter in San Diego. She had been there for two weeks when my friend Leah and I dropped by to look at another dog entirely. When that dog turned out not to be a good match, the handler asked what we were looking for in a dog. All of the dogs looking for homes were pictured on a giant display board. When we told her the traits we were looking for (patient, durable, able to accept a lot of affection, not a barker, a good therapy dog for a two year old with sensory issues) the handler looked them all over and pointed to our {then nameless} Brownie. She said she was the best behaved dog they had there, but people were leery of her breed. Leah mentioned Rottweilers were used extensively in pet therapy...so I said, "Bring her out so I can meet her."



This is Cliff's homecoming from his first deployment to Iraq. She made such a fool of herself over him.


I don't know if you believe in love at first sight, but I tell you...it was. I just fell in love with her. (I still remember that moment.) We went to a visiting pen and the handler showed me what she was trained to do. I was amazed watching her obedience and affection. She had Brownie down on the ground on her back, pinching her paw-pads, pulling her ears...and she just soaked all of it in like it was a good time. The handler said, "I would have bitten me by now...I'm really pinching her hard." Brownie could sit, lay down, stay, fetch and shake on command. (We later taught her others, like 'roll-over' and 'wait' and 'high-five'.) She was in perfect health and had obviously been well loved. I called Cliff to bring the rest of the family to meet her, and they were sold, too. We brought her home that day and have loved her ever since. We chose her name unanimously on the ride home. The Stuarts love brownies. We make them a LOT. Only, Stuart brownies do not have nuts in them. In place of the nuts, we substitute a bag of peanut butter chips. Brownie's eyebrows reminded us of little peanut butter chips floating in brownie batter. That's where her name came from.



She was really good at finding the comfiest places to nap.


Our entire identity changed. We were now a "dog family". We bought all kinds of cheesy, personalized Rottweiler paraphernalia...signs, doormats, windchimes, Christmas ornaments. We became familiar with every dog park and dog beach in town. The groomers knew her by name and when we called for her monthly bath appt, the response after asking "What is you dog's name?" was always, "Awwww! I LOOOVE Brownie!"



Balboa Park Dog Park. One of our favorites.


She helped children (and adults) get over their fear of big dogs. Once, a very aggressive 5 year old ran across the room, leaped into the air and landed on Brownie, knees first. (It's no wonder this child had been bitten by a dog before.) Brownie yelped louder than I've ever heard, jumped up and ran across the room...but did nothing to the child. We always said Brownie reminded us of Nana on Peter Pan...or even Carl in the "Good Dog, Carl" books. I really think I could have left her in charge of them and they would have been fine. She would try to tongue-bathe the kids, even sometimes pinning-down arms or feet to keep them from escaping while she did the job right.



Life is just better with a dog.


Brownie loved the trampoline. On doggie playdates, she'd jump up on it, leaving the other dogs to stand there protesting her superior look. If the kids were on it, she'd jump up, too...and just lay there enjoying the freedom of the bounce. I've never seen another dog do that.



Poor thing. Desperate for her own bed, but the cat's will have to do.


Brownie wasn't perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. She was prone to wander (although this did get better as she settled into the idea that we were her forever family). She knew how to open screen doors with her nose...and how to climb furniture and punch out window screens. We had to be careful how close the trampoline was to the fence, because she'd use it to bound into the neighbor's yard and out. She would always come home (or we'd get a call from someone saying, "I think I have your dog"). And every time we found her, she'd duck down in shame, walking slowly toward us, knowing she'd done something wrong. We do think this is probably how she ended up at the shelter in the first place. Her previous owners probably just got tired of looking for her.



The kids brought Cliff breakfast in bed for Father's Day. Anytime there was excitement in the air, she could sense it and had to be in the middle, so of course she had to jump up on the bed with him.


I think Brownie would eat anything but frozen broccoli. But she would never try to take it while we were looking. She was the sneakiest, smartest dog I've ever known. If I saw her pass my room headed down the hall, I knew I'd better check on her quick. She would always be on my heels, laying right by my door...if she passed by, it meant she was casing the joint...making sure we were all occupied before she went "in for the kill" on some forgotten about food left on the table. We had to keep the trashcan shut in the pantry, all counters cleared and nothing left on the table for a minute. "You snooze, you lose" was her motto. If we forgot and left the pantry door open and left the house, not only would she shred the trash, but she'd help herself to whatever dry goods she could tear open, too. Lasagna noodles? Ciao! Pearled Barley? ByeBye! Seaweed? Sayonara! If we came home and she wasn't at the door to greet us, we knew what that meant...we failed to properly secure the house and she was hiding in shame.



Our last Christmas with Brownie.


As maddening as her antics were at times, I couldn't stay mad for long. They were small prices to pay considering how awesome she was in every other area. She never barked without reason...and by reason, I don't mean someone ringing the doorbell. She barked once or twice a year...usually startling us into remembering she could make noise. She loved other dogs...loved to play. And even though little dogs were often afraid to see her coming, they didn't need to be. She would adjust the level of her play to the size of the dog. She was so gentle.



She would follow me around like this all day.



She was my constant companion...following me as I went about my day...from the laundry room, to the bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, you name it. She just wanted to be with me. She made us feel safe. Through four deployments, she was such a comfort to all of us. There was just something about her presence. She didn't pester...other than her calm "pet me, you'll feel better" nudge she was famous for. She would just be with you. She was happy to be with us anywhere...whether that be a 2500 sf home, or six months in a 27' travel trailer...back in the USA, or across the ocean in Japan, she didn't care...she was happy with her people.

I don't know when I'll stop thinking I see her out of the corner of my eye, lying in a big furry heap, only to realize it's just a discarded jacket. I don't know when the impulse to secure the pantry and counters, before I leave the house, will stop. I don't know how long I'll think I hear her tags jingling down the hallway...or when walking by the dogfood section in the store will stop being so painful. But I am grateful I can still see her big brown eyes and adorable eyebrows in my mind...and that I can remember how her fur and her squishy neck-rolls felt. I am grateful for the imprint she has left on my heart forever.

You love who you serve...this is true. Before we got a dog of our own, I couldn't imagine having to pick up poop, or dog vomit, or torn-up bags of trash, or deal with constantly vacuuming shedding hair. I once had someone express thoughts about why anyone would want to sign up for any of that. But when it's your own dog, it's different. When she is a member of your family, you deal with or overlook the bad because the good is so worth it. You see the difference she makes in you children's lives...and through serving her, you learn to love her more than you thought you could love a furry thing, ever.

I'm so grateful to Brownie for turning us into dog people. I know we're better for it.

RIP Brownie

1998-10/16/10

In case you haven't noticed, I've been kind of scarce around here lately. I've been weeks behind before, but never like this. Even though this post is dated the day it happened, it's taken me over two months to finish it...or clear out the backlog of posts from our trip for that matter...because I knew once those were done...this was next. But, I can't avoid this forever, as painful as it is to think about. Besides...it's been two and a half months and I'm still crying every day. Maybe this will help get it out of my system.

Let me start by saying, if you are not an animal lover and are not open to the idea of a dog being a family member, then you may just want to skip this post (please). Everyone gets that losing a human family member is devastating...but I don't really know how many people understand that the loss of a dog is also painfully devastating. Through this ordeal, it has been so comforting to have people around us that get this. Even though others have expressed their condolences and I've appreciated them...it's only been those who I know really get it, that have been truly comforting (either because they've gone through it themselves or I know they love their dogs like we loved ours). But to tell you the truth, those people have been few. It's been a real testament to me of the power of "mourning with those who mourn." It has been such a learning experience for me.

In the past nine years, whenever we'd come home (especially Cliff) Brownie was always at the door to greet us. And the longer we'd been gone...the more joyous the response. She would make you feel like a rockstar. Well, Tuesday night when we returned home from the airport, she didn't even react. She was laying on the bathroom floor and didn't even sit up. We called her and she eventually made it out to the entryway, but when she attempted to lay back down at Cliff's feet, she couldn't do it. It took her several tries to lower her body down to the floor. The difference was so alarming...I just knew. I had known she had been slowing down over the past few months. Instead of scarfing down her food in minutes, she would leave half of it. Instead of trying to prolong her walks, she would try to head back to the house as soon as she did her business. Now, there was no denying she was in pain...and declining fast.

The next day, I took her to the vet. There seemed to be quite a line of dogs and owners outside, so I just went in and had Coree wait in the van with Brownie. [We had had to carry Brownie out to the van (and she loves rides) so I knew it wouldn't be easy to get her into her least favorite place on earth.] I had been holding it together fine. I signed the roster and waited for my name to be called. As soon as I tried to open my mouth and utter the words, "I think my dog is dying," I fell to pieces. It was embarrassing. The place was so crowded. The tech tried to find someplace more private, so she took me around the corner, only to realize there wasn't a private corner in the whole place. I had to explain what was going on while everyone watched the tears and snot fly all over the place. I couldn't look at anyone. I waited while she went in the back to get another tech. They came out with a stretcher. I lost it some more. The whole thing was surreal. I could feel people staring in horror...it's every dog lover's worst nightmare...but you know that someday, it will be you.

They placed the stretcher next to the van and we lowered her onto it, but when they attempted to lift her up, she struggled to stand. She wasn't about to be carried in there. They let her stand and walk in on her own. She didn't even put up a fight. The waiting room was now silent...or at least it felt that way...and all eyes were on her as she passed. They took us right back to a room and the vet met with us right away. He got my permission to run tests, told us with her symptoms he was certain he'd find something...and then he came back with the news...a mass on her spleen indicating an aggressive cancer. She was on the downhill slide, and at her age surgery was just as likely to kill her. He gave me the options, and not wanting to put her through anymore suffering, I only considered two of them...either putting her down on the spot, or having at least one more night with her before returning. I called Cliff at work, and through tears he asked for one more night with her. We set an appt. for the following afternoon...and I asked the vet about a back-door exit, but by this time the clinic was closed, so we didn't have to go through the spectacle again.

That evening and the next day, we lavished her with attention. We each had a chance to say goodbye in our own way. Some of us cried more than others. She wouldn't eat...but she did seem to respond to the extra attention...which made it more difficult. Ultimately, Cliff couldn't do it. He called the vet and said he didn't think she was ready, and asked how he would know she was ready. The vet ran down a list of signs, like not eating, yelping in pain, unwillingness to move, inability to control bladder and bowels. He also suggested feeding her chicken and rice (which Brownie happily sucked down...leading us to believe this was all a ploy). He also said he would be standing by whenever we were ready...even on a weekend, if necessary. He had so much compassion and we appreciated him so much...he totally understood whatever we needed to do and didn't judge us.

Prolonging this made it harder in some ways, especially for Coree and I...but I understood that Cliff needed to be ready. I prayed for her to give us a sign so we'd know (but maybe I should have prayed for a non-yucky sign?). She laid around the house all day, except to eat the chicken and rice, and we lifted her onto a bed we made for her on Coree's bed each night. On Saturday morning, she let us know she was ready. She could no longer control her bowels and was obviously humiliated. She had never in her life done that and we knew it was time.

True to his word, the vet met us at the clinic late that morning. He told us how it was going to happen and that afterward he and the tech would leave and we could have as long as we wanted with her. The boys chose to say their goodbyes at home, but Coree wanted to be there with her in the end. The three of us held her and stroked her and cried buckets. I tried to memorize her face, the wrinkles of her neck, the softness of her ears...and thanked her for everything...the comfort, the memories...for helping me raise these children. She was nothing short of amazing. I can't believe we got so lucky. It's like she was sent just to us.

I have been married almost 20 years...and in that time, I have seen my husband get teary-eyed on occasion, but I've never seen him cry the way he cried for this dog. It was heart-wrenching, and added another layer to my grief...just like the kids' pain added more layers.

People have asked if we'll be getting another dog, or suggested it would help ease the pain. They might be right, but I think we are done. We are a one dog family. She came to us at the perfect time in our lives. It was such a joy to raise a family with her. I'm so glad my children had that experience. It may sound wimpy, but I really don't think I could go through this again...not to mention, any other dog would pale in comparison. Could any other dog really measure up to the bar that Brownie set?

When I close my eyes, I can still feel those soft ears, and hear her throaty-purr when I rub her belly. Some say all dogs go to heaven...others say they don't have souls and couldn't possibly. I have to believe she'll be there, because it wouldn't be heaven without her.

We will love you forever, sweet Brownie. Thank you for everything.

Milk Cracker Memories

Do you have a food that you associate with a particular childhood memory...like a certain candy or a holiday dish? I have a few. Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, frozen peas and green salad with homemade buttermilk dressing remind me of Sunday dinners at Grandma Cramer's house. Huge, crumbly, lard-laden cookies {whose yumminess can only come from a real Mexican bakery} remind me of trips to the desert with Grandma and Grandpa Parks.

Two of my earliest childhood food memories come from my sweet "Sugar Grandma" {my Great-grandma Parks...who earned her name from the way she would stand out on her Spring Valley, CA porch (on Troy Street) and wave to us as we left, saying, "Bye, Sugar"}. The first were butter mints...which she kept in a little white dish with a cat on the lid. The other was Nabisco Royal Lunch Milk Crackers.

I should back up, though...because until about a month ago, I just knew them as "milk crackers". I remember each and every time I visited, (and I'm talking preschool age here) Sugar Grandma would ask if I wanted a milk cracker. Of course I did. They were large, tender, flaky and had a very distinctive, mildly-sweet flavor. My favorite thing about them was the way you could use your teeth to break them open and they'd split evenly through the middle and you'd have TWO crackers. How cool is that?

No one else but Sugar Grandma ever had those crackers, so I only associated them with her. She died in 1980 (when I was ten) and I don't remember ever having another milk cracker...although I do remember looking for them in the store from time to time as a teen and young adult. I never found anything remotely close. Butter crackers...no. Water crackers...not even close. Digestive biscuits...nope. Since I was so young when I last had one...I had no other info about them...I just knew they were milk crackers and they didn't taste like anything else.

Well, a few weeks ago, it occurred to me to Google it. {What did we ever do before the WWW? Honestly!} Anyway, I put "milk crackers" into the search, and it didn't take many hits to see a picture of the Royal Lunch Milk Cracker box that took me RIGHT back to Grandma's house. I recognized it instantly and was SO excited...until I read that they were discontinued about four years ago...and apparently, I was not their only fan.*

I couldn't help myself...I spent a couple of hours reading blog posts and comments calling for Nabisco's boycott, letter writing campaigns, etc...to bring back the beloved Royal Lunch crackers. How did I miss out on all the fervor? Well, from what I read, these crackers were no longer available in California around the 80's (about the time I left) and then were only available in the New England area up until their demise in 2006. So my great Google idea came too little, too late.

One thing I learned through some of the comments was that there was a close second...Heritage Mills brand milk crackers.


They are only available in Canada. Before I knew it, I was spending $17 for 2 boxes to be shipped here to me in Japan. They arrived inside of a week. I opened them as soon as I got to the car and was amazed that the flavor took me back 30+ years. The secret ingredient....malt! (No wonder I loved them so much...I LOVE malt.)



These crackers have the same basic look as Royal Lunch, only smaller.



Except that these are flat on one side...Royal lunch was rounded on both sides...



Kind of like this. Not quite as satisfying as jimmying them apart with your teeth...but close.


Anyway, my husband and kids were not as enthusiastic. They didn't get the hype. To them I say, "GOOD...more for me!"

It was very satisfying to have this 30+ year mystery solved. I said I'd only buy them once, just for old time's sake. After all, $17 is a bit much for 2 boxes of crackers. However, now that I only have six crackers left, $17 isn't seeming so steep. {My, how the human mind has an infinite capacity for rationalization!}


*The source of the first image above.

Flashback Friday...Great-Grandma Stuart

 I love going back through my photos for Flashback Friday.  Sometimes I like to focus on just one photo that makes me smile...sometimes I see a photo which reminds me of another and a theme comes together.  Today's flashback is dedicated to Grandma Roberta, Cliff's Dad's Mom.  She was a remarkable lady.

Cliff lived with her for several years, and I know she (along with other special people in his life) had a great deal to do with the wonderful man that he is today.  I met Roberta the night before Cliff and I got married when she flew into town with Cliff's aunt and cousin.  I loved her right away.  She LOVED her posterity, too.  I hope to be as devoted to my family as she was to hers.  We were fortunate enough to live places in the States so that we got to see her at least every year, sometimes more.  

When she knew we were coming to visit, she started cooking weeks in advance.  I think I gained ten pounds on the first trip we took to Oklahoma to see her when Patrick was a baby.  I don't know how Cliff stayed so skinny all those years living with her.  He said he used to wake up to the smell of breakfast cooking every morning.  I'm so glad he's adapted to cereal.

Troy and Grandma met when he was only a few weeks old...but I love this photo of her reading to him.  Troy LOVED to be read to.  I know, you're thinking "all kids love to be read to".  Trust me...with Troy, it was an obsession.  

 

This is Patrick at Grandma's house in Oklahoma in 1994.  It was such a great visit.  It was nice to chat with her and be spoiled with her cooking. 

  

And this is Grandma meeting baby Coree at Cliff's dad's house in California in 1997.  I remember that she came loaded down with gifts for the kids.

(Trivia:  Grandma ALWAYS hit the clearance racks at Mervyn's for this kids.  She got the BEST stuff.  She always hooked the kids up when she came to visit.  Whenever I'd go  to Meryvn's I would think of her.  I was so sad when they went out of business last year.  We hit their final sale before we moved out here, getting all our luggage and TONS of clothes and bedding for 60% off.  Our bill was over $1200...at 60% off...so you can imagine, it was a LOT.  Anyway, I thought of Grandma Stuart and knew she'd approve.)

Sadly, Grandma passed away from cancer in December of 1997.  She didn't get to meet Jake.  Luckily, Cliff was able to fly back and spend a week with her right before she passed away.  She was living in Salt Lake City at the time.  We sure miss her, but think of her often.  Whenever I actually cook breakfast, Cliff reminds me of waking up to that smell every morning.  

We love you, Grandma Stuart.

Flashback Friday...Bahhhck in the Day

Bet you didn't know this about me, did you?

This is Cosmo.

I raised this lamb from a bottle.

He really thought I was his mommy.

Even when he was 250 lbs., I could lead him around without a halter.

Once, when he was quite a bit bigger than this, I brought him to a 4-H sponsored petting zoo in the parking lot of the local Alpha-Beta grocery store. (Remember Alpha-Beta?) Anyway, it was just a big pen made of stacked hay bales, surrounded by a flimsy fence, with lambs and goats and pigs and such.

Everything was going smoothly...until some kids who I baby-sat showed up. I tied Cosmo's lead inside the fence and took them into the store to buy them each a cookie from the bakery.

When I came out, I saw people running around like they were trying to catch something. Turns out, they were trying to catch Cosmo. He panicked when I left and jumped the fence. I just called his name and he "baahhhed" and came running to me.

I loved that lamb.

BTW...he won grand champion in the wool division at that fair. The judge said his was the nicest wool he had ever seen and that when I sheered him, I should enter his wool in the fair, too. The next year at the Lakeside Fair, I was told the same thing. And Cosmo won grand champion, and his son won reserve champion. Good genes, I guess.

He died about a year later. Died WAY too young at the hands (or should I say head) of a wild, "range" ram. We don't know exactly how it happened, but it appeared that he jumped another fence and just wasn't strong enough to fight what he found on the other side. I was in seventh grade. It was devastating...but that's not the point of this post.

The point of this post is what a great experience I had raising Cosmo...and participating in 4-H in general. It's not a typical thing in many communities anymore.

As a matter of fact, it's so not typical, that I can use the fact that I raised sheep in 4-H in that "two truths and a lie" game...and people never think it is the truth. Funny, huh?

So, that has me wondering...what is unusual about you or your past? What is true about you that people would most likely guess is a lie? Anything?

Flashback Friday...Wild Animal Memorial

Today's flashback takes us back about 4 years to our last visit to the Wild Animal Park. While the Wild Animal Park in East San Diego County is a great place to visit for anyone, it is especially significant to our family.

My grandfather helped to construct the Baja Cactus Gardens at the top of the park. It took many years of volunteer work from him and his partners. Whenever my grandma had the opportunity, she would sit with him and enjoy the view of the valley below while he worked.

After my grandma passed away from breast cancer in 1989, he had this pavilion constructed in her memory. There's a picnic bench inside, and it is one of the best places in the park to enjoy your lunch, or just take in the view.

I apologize for not including pics of the view here...but I didn't have any readily available. You'll just have to settle for this beautiful view:








Sometimes Corenne's hazel eyes look green, just like her great-grandma's. I know she would have loved this little girl as much as I do.

Flashback Friday...Jay and Jamie

This flashback is a tough one to do, and I'm trying to focus on the happiness that it contains, and not the sadness that Cliff and I feel right now. Jay and Jamie Hare are special friends of ours...they were VERY special friends to Cliff at a time when he needed them most. When he was a young adult, working and going to college, he worked with Jay and Jamie in the hunting and fishing industry and they were also great friends. Cliff once told me that when he was really struggling with all that was going on in life, they were a source of happiness and stability in a lonely world. I am forever grateful to them for that.


(We were headed to some sort of street festival here...circa 1991)

I met Jay and Jamie while Cliff and I were dating and we had several fun, double dates with them. One of the funniest memories I have is when they were so excited to take us to a Japanese restaurant that they loved. They couldn't wait for us to try the green tea ice cream for dessert. It was served and Cliff and I each took a bite at the same time. They were looking at us expectantly as we both scrunched up our faces and said, "Eww!!" Jamie said, "You don't like it?! I love it. It reminds me of spumoni." Cliff and I busted out laughing because the day before we had had a conversation about how we both hated spumoni. Other than that, the food was great...and the company was even better.

When Cliff and I got engaged, we took a trip to Utah so he could meet my family. We planned it as a camping trip with Jay and Jamie and had a great time fishing in Beaver, Utah...







We have made many trips back and forth to Utah since, and we always think of them when we drive through that area.

They were also in our wedding...
and because of the stress involved, they decided on a much smaller backyard ceremony with no attendants...



(I'm not sure if I should apologize, or say "You're welcome".) Unfortunately, neither of us got to attend, as Cliff was in Marine Corps OCS and I was on bedrest for preterm labor with Troy, but we were there in spirit.

Through the years our contact with them has waxed and waned, depending on our location and circumstances...but we'd always catch up again. When we'd mention them to the kids and they'd say, "Who are they again?" We'd start listing things we've done with them and as soon as we'd say...


"You know, the ones with all the animals...you got the feed the pig a banana?" then they'd remember.


Jay and Jamie always had lots of animals to play with.


Fun day at La Jolla Beach...Jamie and Coree.

Jay passed away on July 12th. He had cancer. He was too young and had too much living yet to do...but we trust in the Lord and his timing. Our hearts are breaking for Jamie, who has shown so much courage and grace through this battle. Her daily Facebook updates have always been so full of faith and understanding. She was so much at peace knowing that Jay had turned his heart to the Lord in this time. In the end, what else can you ask for?

I so wish I could give Cliff a great big hug. He's lost his second close friend in less than a year...and he's so far from home, doing a tough job which surrounds him with death and grief during this deployment. I am so proud of what he is doing, but wish I could be there to comfort him. He'll have to settle for my prayers...but I have faith in their power and ability to comfort, even when I cannot.

Flashback Friday...Promotions gone by

Since we are coming up on Cliff's promotion, I thought it would be fun to take a look back at some of the promotions and important events in his career.

This first one rocks! Cliff was a Marine reservist while he was going to college. After he graduated and still couldn't figure out what he wanted to do with that English degree...he decided to come back on active duty with the Marines in the FTS program in 1993. (Which is actually an amazing story worthy of blogging, in and of itself. Maybe someday.)

Once he was selected, part of the process required that he be sworn in again. Rather than sit in traffic to do this at the local recruiting office, we chose a more....casual ceremony.


My grandpa was a retired Naval Officer, and therefore authorized to perform these kind of ceremonies. All it cost us was dinner. I served chicken breasts stuffed with carrots, zucchini and summer squash (julienne cut) and homemade focaccia bread. Yum!



I just love the "This is your brain on New Orleans" t-shirt! It was actually mine, and Cliff was constantly stealing it.


Uncle Dennis and Aunt Sue were actually humming "America the Beautiful" in the background during the whole thing. It really did add an element of class that we were sorely lacking otherwise!


The next one is January 1994, when Cliff was unexpectedly promoted to Staff Sergeant. He was in the below zone, so we were thrilled...but not expecting it.


Seriously, how young are we?! I was pregnant with Patrick. (Trivia: This was my favorite maternity dress.)


This isn't a promotion...this was when he chaired the MC Ball committee in 1995. He just looks so awesome, I had to include it.


I don't even remember what award this was. I know it was on recruiting duty, late 1999ish...and he was also in graduate school. I just love the crowd of people that we are...and Patrick's triumphant pose.

OK...so this event is my fave, Cliff's commissioning, and I have to apologize in advance for the number of pictures here. This is really only a fraction of the pics my dad took, and it was hard to narrow it down. This was the first large event that I planned, and I loved doing it. I could see doing this for a living...on second thought, it probably wouldn't be as fun doing it for strangers.

A non-wrecky cake from the commissary.



This was held at the San Luis Rey Officers' Club on Camp Pendleton in August of 2000. We were fortunate enough to have so many friends and family join us. Part of that was due to a Parks family reunion that culminated with this event. 3 years of sacrifice, blood, sweat and tears...delayed gratification...and it was finally here!



Two of the sweetest parts...my grandpas that were able to participate in the ceremony. My retired Navy Grandpa (who came up from Merida, Mexico for this and the family reunion) was able to administer the oath to Cliff...and my mom's dad (who drove down from Utah just for this) gave the most amazing talk.



Cliff's dad and I put on his shoulder boards.



He looked so hot!



Cliff went from the Marine Corps one day, into the Navy the next...and his Marine command was (of course) also present. His LtCol, who was always so supportive, gave the most touching speech...and presented Cliff with another medal.



The Hinmans were there...as well as the Carmans. (I love the look on Dave's face.) SO many good friends here who had given us moral support through all of this craziness.



I shed some tears over this picture. This is Cliff's friend Dave, who passed away last year (about eight months ago) and Cliff went back to Kansas City to perform his memorial service. They were Marine Corps buddies back from the Joliet days (circa 1993).



Proud, proud boys (Jake was not quite two...so we opted to leave him with a sitter and actually enjoy the event).



Here's my grandpa who spoke...along with my brother Jimmy and sweet little Baylee. She's always been such a cutie pie. (Trivia: Notice the centerpiece in the lower right corner? I made all of them. OK...my dad cut the wood...and helped me tack the pilings together...and secure the lashings...but it was my idea, AND I cut out all those nets!)



Here's Grandpa Parks with Jimmy, Shellie and Baylee (Thomas was probably running around with Troy and Patrick). This was my Grandpa's last hurrah, so to speak. He passed away from a massive heart attack less than two months later. He was so proud of Cliff, and proud of the part he was able to play in this day...and we are SO grateful to have had this bonus time with him.



Here's the whole famn-damily. We are an extremely attractive group, I must say. This is one of those days I will cherish in my memory forever. Rarely do all the stars align like they did here. This one day made all the sacrifices worth it...and yet we've just been continually blessed with more and more experiences to cherish...but this one will always be special.



Here's the traditional silver dollar ceremony...



Yes, this was staged (in that they walked outside together so that Master Guns would be the one to give the first salute, and get Cliff's silver dollar).



Hopefully he didn't spend it all in one place!



Oh my goodness, how I do love a man in a uniform!

Sadly, I did not get to attend or participate in Cliff's promotion to LT. The Commodore decided to frock* him with no notice on Sep. 10, 2001 (bet you can't guess why I'll never forget that date?) and I guess didn't think I'd care about being there. Hmmph!

Looking forward to Monday! Even though I won't get to participate over the miles, I'm so touched by the efforts of his commands here and over there, so that we can at least watch it and feel a part of the ceremony.

Here's to many more to come, right?

*Frocking: A commander has the option to "pin on" a new rank to a service member immediately. The pay does not start until the official promotion date...but (s)he would be able to exercise the responsibilities/privileges of the new rank beginning at the time of the frocking.