Time is always too short with the Jaussis. We made pioneer cookies, enjoyed some dinner, scared Tyler with the fireworks, and lit sparklers. We’ll have to do the Virginia Reel another day. We’ll keep trying. We can’t go a summer without it.
Scout Camp 2016
This morning I went through the pictures from the last month. The High Adventure trip began on June 28, and since that time, someone in our family has been away on camps or vacations almost constantly. Richard came home from 3 weeks of missed work, ready to plan more trips. I don’t understand this man sometimes.
Timothy and Richard spent a week at Bear Lake for Scout camp. As I look through these pictures, I see how Timothy has matured this year. Richard didn’t get any photos of himself, except on the last day when he went water skiing with a couple of the dads.
Can we talk for a minute about what it’s like to be married to a Scoutmaster? In one word, for me, the experience is sleepless. Often I leave my lamp on all night, not fearful, but uneasy, and unable to sleep. I honestly don’t worry about their safety. I give that worry to God in prayer, but I feel loss when my family is away. I’m thankful that they are all home again. Timothy was still healing from a terrible motorcycle burn and came down with a case of Strep while at scout camp, but this week, all is well. Scout camp teaches all of us, even those at home, that we can do hard things. (Ha! These pictures don’t look like a trial at all.)
Sanchez Family 2016
I keep thinking about the good times we had at our reunion. I’m glad we made everyone hold still for a few minutes to take a picture. A lot can happen in a year, so it’s good to take the time to take a few pictures.
The Vibrant Lady on the Running Board
The first memory I have of Grandma Stewart is waiting for her to arrive at her home from Girls Camp. My family had arrived in Sparks, Nevada, from Utah and we were so anxious to see her. My brothers and I explored her manicured back yard, the barrels full of flowers, a neatly painted storage shed, and patio chairs with squishy floral cushions to pass the time. We moved to the front yard, and eventually, we saw the truck drive up with Grandma. It was an enormous white truck, and when it pulled up, she jumped out onto the running board on the passenger side, and waved at us with a big smile. She was in a sweatshirt and had a bandanna tied around her hair, but she made quite an entrance into my memory.
Of course she was there long before I had memories. I see pictures of her holding me as an infant, and me rifling through her kitchen drawer full of plastic bags before I was a year old. One picture shows 4 generations of women, my Great-grandmother Spencer, Grandma Stewart, my mom, and me as a newborn. Now that my grandmothers are gone, I continue to feel the physical, spiritual, and emotional strength they carried with them. I was born into a family of strong, powerful, vibrant women. Their influence held me before I had memories, through the growing up years, and into adulthood. At first I only noticed superficial things about my grandmother, such as painted nails, lots of laughter, traditions, and best behavior, but these were just the trappings of my grandmother’s strength; and she instilled this strength in me each time we met.
Grandmother JoAnn Stewart was sparkly but modest, outgoing but private; babies often cried when she held them, but she was the first one to help out and welcome them to the world. She walked so quickly we couldn’t keep up, but was continually present in my life.
“Angie needs to learn to do the dishes without complaining,” I overheard my mom say to Grandma Stewart on the phone.
The next week when Grandma arrived, she did the dishes with me for days, both of us in yellow gloves. She showed me that I could scrub the silverware with the ridges of my glove. She made it fun.
She celebrated people. More than once she paraded me down the carpeted MGM Grand Hotel staircase, singing, “Here she is, Miss America,” reminding me to look at myself in the mirrors that surrounded us. When my little sister was born, I was sure I didn’t want a sister, but my grandma taught my siblings and me a song to sing on the front porch steps to welcome her. I hope my grandmother saw me tuck a small cross-stitched piece of fabric in my new baby sister’s room, welcoming her to our family. My grandmother helped me feel excited to have a sister.
I saw her care for her mother, my Great-grandma Spencer, during an extended illness. She gently helped her mother turn over, alleviating pressure on her painful bedsores. I was a little girl, and watching someone care for someone so ill made a huge impression on me. She came to town each time my mom had a baby and took care of us. Years later, I happened upon her after she brought my Grandpa Stewart home from dialysis, taking a quick nap on her couch. It was the only time I saw her take a rest. She must have been exhausted so many times as she cared for Grandpa and visited with the line of patients on dialysis, but she lived up to the phrase she kept framed in her kitchen: “Keep Calm and Carry On.”
She kept a small Christmas tree in one of the bedrooms in the house with Marine and patriotic decorations on it. She told me that she was so proud of each child’s service and sacrifices. She said that she felt David’s service to his country, and Carol and Doug’s service in the Church were equally important. I have shared her lesson with others. “There are many ways to do good in the world,” I say, and think of her.
I saved all of her cards and letters. Her letters were short, rarely about her, and almost always mentioned Grandpa or the cousins. There are no dates, either. I don’t think that she kept a journal. As I read through her mail to me, however, I see that she did take time to write about important things.
“We’re thinking of you today. Congratulations on your baptism!” (1982)
“Just hang tight until this school bit is over and it will pay off.”
“Hope life is wonderful today–after all–we only take one day at a time and do the best we can–”
“There is nothing as good as a good marriage. Make yours good!” (1995)
“I encourage you two to find and cultivate good friends who add so much to your lives.” (1996)
“Grandpa is so good to me.”
She loved and welcomed Richard. She loved and welcomed our children. When we visited her home with our little children, she handed Paige a big flag and they paraded around her backyard with patriotic gifts on their heads and in their hands.
She was always cleaning out her house, sending things she didn’t need to us. Her rooms were uncluttered and tastefully decorated. She kept heirlooms close to her, I think because she loved beauty and they reminded her of her family. She loved deeply and privately.
The last day I saw her, I played the violin at Grandpa Stewart’s funeral. I was playing Auld Lang Syne, a song she loved, which celebrates days gone by, old times, and even “Once upon a time.”
Once upon a time, I had a grandmother who showed me how to be beautiful, and shared her traditions and laughter. When I need to be strong, my Grandma Stewart is one of the women I think of. The thought of her makes me want to square my shoulders and face things. She didn’t want all of the fuss or attention that comes with death. She would be uncomfortable hearing how her life was like a light to us; how we thrived in the family traditions of parades, waving dishtowels, tubing down the river, playing the candy game, setting out fancy napkins, and laughing. But as I write this, I feel her strength and I know she understands all the good that she has done for us, and that influence remains long after a person dies.
Her influence will be felt when I take time to care for someone who is sick, elderly, or lonely. It will be felt when I decorate for a dinner party and make celebrations for simple, joyful things. It will be felt as I face difficult days, remaining calm, and as I show respect for others. I can’t remember the things she said to me as much as I can hear her laughter in my memory. Perhaps that’s the tribute that would mean the most to her.
Favorite Things July 2016
(Bad phone photo quality; good things)
World Market is a new frontier for me. I go there to sniff the soaps, admire the vibrant colors on textiles, and handle pretty dishes that I do not need. This is my favorite soap which they sell there. I just keep it in my room for its scent.
My boys collect little things and want to display them. This shelf is a good compromise between Mark’s desire to have a long display over flat surfaces and my desire to put the collections in boxes under the bed.
For 25 years I have wanted pinking shears. I found these at Ikea in the fabric section and they are sturdy, sharp, and only cost about $8!
The Weber Carnival 2016
We gathered at the family cabin for the first time since the death of my grandparents, who were so good at making these gatherings special. In loving memory (and instead of a funeral) we held a parade and carnival for my grandmother. My mom carried Grandma’s patriotic umbrella and we all decorated our bicycles, hats, and scooters… and the handcart.
I wore my grandmother’s red boots.
For carnival games, we had a fishing pond, doughnut eating contest, darts, ball games, and face painting.
The kids made little boats to race in rain gutters.
My aunt showed up wearing the old fox stole and the dogs went crazy over it.
My aunt and uncle brought their own brand of silly to the party, which is always expected at a gathering at the Weber.
We revisited the tradition of a sawdust candy hunt.
Next came the rubber ducky races down the river.
The winners were all adults.
Once the duckies came out of the river, we watched the kids tube down the river for hours.
Oh, that Paige and her winning ways.
Mark and Timothy had a good time in the river. Daniel was at youth conference this day.
One theme of the gathering was gratitude, for a legacy of family traditions, a beautiful cabin, and one another. This day would have made my grandmother and grandfather smile.
Fish Creek 2016
For several months, Richard’s extra time has been used to acquire, repair, and outfit two four-wheelers. It has been a serious endeavor, requiring lots of grease, parts ordered online, phone calls, a visit to Elko, and time. One four-wheeler is for his dad, and one is for our family. They are ideal for exploring Fish Creek. It was nice to see many of Richard’s siblings on this trip and to watch the cousins have fun together.
High Adventure Trip 2016
Our family has been in many places over the past few weeks. Last night I uploaded photos from the camera before Richard took it for another week away from home. Phew! What a summer. Here are some photos of the high adventure trip that Richard and Daniel made at the end of June in the Uintas.
I should be back to writing soon, once I get through some more stacks of laundry, camping gear, craft supplies, paint, and hardware. I have thoughts about my grandmother that need to be shared, some new Favorite Things to post, and adventures to winnow down to a few pictures and words. It’s good to be back.
High Adventure 2016
See if you can spot Daniel and Richard in this picture. They are backpacking in the Uintas this week. Our basement is strewn with dehydrated food leftovers, rope, and cast-off equipment. The hike will be nothing after all the trips to the store to prepare for it.
Light
My friend Elizabeth passed away from cancer last week. She planned her own open house and funeral. For the open house, they created a room of displays of the important things in her life. Suspended with wire above her desk, chairs, and other furniture, the family hung selections of her original poetry and photographs. This exhibit was carefully curated, professionally printed, and elegant. Her words were everywhere, reminding us that she loved her family, trusted the Lord, and found joy in life. During the last years of her life, Elizabeth gifted strangers with roses for fun. In the spirit of this, there were hundreds of roses, prepared so each guest could take one home. I could smell these roses as I approached the church, probably 20 feet from the door.
As I worked my way through the museum-quality displays, I looked for her family members. I found her teenage daughter first, my violin student, cheeks flushed and smiling, with her friends surrounding her. I gave her hugs and encouragement, but did she need them? She was radiant. As I left, I spotted my friend’s husband. Like the gentle halos of light in old religious art, I saw glory around him, too.
There is a hole in their lives, gaping and raw, and that loss will be felt more and more, and then a little less, but never gone. I am lifted by the memory of them “glowing” that night. I see more clearly how important it is to trust God’s plan for our lives. Trust in the Lord becomes a strong foundation and a light during dark times. The light will radiate from countenances, unforgettable to those who see it, while it sustains the people who radiate it. It’s powerful because the Source of this light is the One who said, “Not my will, but Thine, be done.”