Memories – Page 16 – Valerie's Voice

Young At Heart

We are heading up to my aunt and uncle’s farm on Bay Lake in northern MN. We haven’t seen them for over a year. My uncle turned 89 last September. We look forward to visiting with them, my only living aunt and uncle. Below is a story from a summer visit with them in August, 2012.

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I am sitting here on the deck, breathing in the fresh air, hoping it infuses me with the youthfulness around me. I hear loons calling and the water fountain gurgling and look out to see the sun slowly exposing the field where eight cattle are leisurely grazing.

My uncle, age 84 11/12 (85 next month) has embarked on a new adventure this year. In order to keep his land deemed agricultural he bought eight steers and is fattening them in his field. Not only that, he adopted a new puppy too, Max. And did I mention he plays tennis three times a week?

We came up for a weekend get away before the busy fall season. My aunt and uncle are my relatives still living who have known me since I was born. It’s always fun to come up to their lovely home on Bay Lake.

Yesterday afternoon they arranged to take us on a pontoon ride with some friends of theirs. It was a glorious sunny day with blue skies and wispy white clouds. We climbed aboard the boat and the skipper (Jack) and his wife (Jean) maneuvered the boat away from the dock and we were off on a leisurely ride along the lake shore of Bay Lake, admiring cabins, seeing other boaters and skiers, and getting quick glimpses of loons before they dove under water.

Back on shore their friends invited us to stay awhile. She showed us her lovely garden and picked a stunning white and violet dahlia for me. We ate snacks and then headed back to my aunt and uncles place. On the way back we find out this very hospitable, lively couple are both 87 years old!

As we drove up the lane to my uncle’s place we are greeted by two strategically placed plastic penguins that my uncle found in the pool-house and placed playfully in the yard.

Oh to be young, like 85 or 87!

One Little Box

In the bedroom closet upstairs, tucked away on the top shelf, is a box.

It’s an old Gateway computer box with the Holstein cow pattern, and it’s only about 14” X 18” and 6” deep.

It doesn’t take up much space, this one little box, but, if you open it up, out pops one great, big surprise! Thirty-three years of calendars, thirty-three years of life, thirty-three years of recorded history from one small family. It contains years of appointments, church activities, school and sports activities, vacation schedules, birthdays, anniversaries, deaths, dinners, all kinds of celebrations etc….

It reminds me of a Jack-In-The-Box. Each year it springs open, I add another calendar, force the lid closed as it bursts with memories, and I put it away for safe keeping.

This one little box holds one big treasure.

And it’s amazing how little space this box takes, upstairs, tucked away on the top shelf of the bedroom closet.

I wrote this poem in 2012 and it reigns true today although I did have to put the Gateway box into a larger box to accommodate more calendars. I added another calendar this week.

Another “Interruption of Service” Adventure

This is one of our many adventures we had while in Mozambique over the Christmas holiday in 2014. A different kind of “interruption of service” from two hired van drivers.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA — The Indian Ocean

In 2014 our family spent Christmas together in Maputo, the city where my son (Tim) and his family lives. While we were all together my son planned a special stay at a resort on the Indian Ocean for the New Year. We had a late start the day we headed north to Zongoene Lodge. We rented a van and two drivers to help transport our large group – they arrived two hours late. Once on our way we drove out of the city traffic and had a nice drive along a four-lane highway. After a couple of hours we turned off the highway and started down a muddy, rutty, dirt road. The sun was setting. Our resort was still twenty-two miles away. There had been flash floods the night before and there were many flooded sections of the road. As we drove further into the countryside the road got muddier, the puddles got deeper, and the ride got scarier.

There were five of us in Tim’s car and the 12-passenger van, with the two hired drivers, carried seven others from our party. The road kept getting worse. We came upon another hill and Tim’s car slid down it. We pulled over and watched for the van – I was praying it would make it down the hill without toppling over. It did, but that was it…the angry drivers got out of the van and said they would go no further (as if it were our fault the roads were bad). It started raining again and night had fallen – and it was very dark – and we were somewhere in the middle of Mozambique – with a 2 ½ month old baby! Hmmm…I turned and said to my daughter-in-love, “it will be interesting to see how God gets us out of this mess.”

Well unbelievably, Tim’s cell phone worked, he called the lodge, and the manager borrowed four-wheel drive vehicles from resort guests and came to rescue us.

An overview of the landscape and resort on the Indian Ocean.

We waited over an hour but finally two vehicles arrived with the manager of the resort in one of them. We transferred our luggage and rearranged the twelve of us into the three vehicles. Then the van driver stepped on the accelerator, spun the van tires in the mud, turned the van around and sped away…madder than a hornet’s nest! They headed back to the city and we headed to the resort, another ten miles down the dark, flooded, muddy road.

We had been dispersed into different vehicles with strangers, in the middle of Mozambique, trusting we would all end up in the same place in a short while. The resort owner was behind the wheel of Tim’s car since he knew the road and could maneuver the dangerous spots. Another one of our party was a good sport. He ended up in the open bed of a pickup truck bouncing all the way to the resort…in the rain! Finally we all made it to Zongoene Lodge, at midnight, with a sigh of relief and praises to God.

We had an enjoyable week at the lodge on the Indian Ocean. The sun came out and the roads dried up so they were passable on the way out.

Loaves & Fishes and Little Puppies

Our four "little puppies". Ross is the one in yellow. I have always loved this photo. — Our four “little puppies”. Ross is the one in yellow. I have always loved this photo.

The Bible story about the little boy bringing his lunch to Jesus and it being multiplied came to mind as I was thinking back on a very special friendship.

Thirty-three years ago I called an acquaintance from the church we attended at that time to see if I could bring her lunch since she just given birth to her firstborn son. My firstborn son was 10 months old at the time.

My inexperienced self brought over a tuna fish sandwich in a brown paper bag. But God took that lunch and multiplied it into a deep and lasting friendship. Thank you Lord!

Life went on and we each had another son…so we had four “little puppies” as my friend affectionately called our four boys. They played together for many years and then one sad day their family moved away. However, our friendship continued to grow from yearly trips together.

My friend’s oldest son, Ross, was diagnosed with a rare condition when he was 8 years old. He eventually was confined to a wheelchair. He was on a special trip to Scotland last month where he had respiratory failure and passed away. We attended the memorial service in Indiana this past weekend. Ross was a wonderful young man of God and a light for Jesus. He lived a full and faith-filled life.

Ross, you will be missed.

February 23, 1983 – December 6, 2016

The Cedar Chest

My cedar chest doubles as our entertainment center in our living room. The other day we took off the TV, soundboard and DVD player to get into the cedar chest. It’s been a long time since we’ve opened it up and usually when we do, it’s just to put something in it. I would get a whiff of the aromatic cedar but close it right away. This time I was deliberate to go through everything. I remembered the price tag was in it…my dad bought it for my mother in 1947 for a wedding present. This Lane Cedar Chest retailed for $54.95 in 1947. There is another piece of paper inside – an insurance policy…a Moth Insurance Policy good for three years… hmmm I wonder…do they still sell that type of insurance???

I also found my mother’s baptism gown and the gown my brother and I wore when we were baptized. There was my mother’s velvet brown hat and some long white gloves -over the elbow kind that I wore to prom. I found my Brownie uniform, my candy-stripe outfit and a red dress I sewed back in high school that I particularly loved.

I did not iron these special pieces before taking a photo. They went back into the cedar chest.

I found what I was looking for…an outfit for my grandson that was my son’s when he was a little boy – but I found a lot more children’s clothing and blankets. I didn’t remember saving them all. It was a delight to look at each one and remember. I kept them out and washed them up and will pass them on.

What a fun adventure opening up the cedar chest!

A portion of the clothing I had stored in the cedar chest.

Conversation Trails

Young Quinlan

I enjoy reflecting on the trail a conversation takes…where it begins and how it flows…A conversation this week took me down memory lane…

I was visiting with a woman at church and we were commenting on the unusually warm weather in Minnesota for this time of year, November. She mentioned she remembered the Armistice Day snowstorm on November 11, 1940. I asked her where she was that day and she said she was at Young-Quinlan Department store in downtown Minneapolis…she had caught the last streetcar home and she was grateful to get home safely that night.

I told her I have a memory from that store too. My aunt, who never had any children of her own, liked to take her nieces on special, one-on-one dates. This happened in the 60’s. She would often take us to the Young Quinlan store. Auntie Ag loved nice things and liked this specialty store – it was always special time. But what stands out most is the elevator (and my friend guessed that would be my memory.) There was an elevator operator who wore white gloves. She would open the elevator’s door and gate and let you on and off whatever floor you wanted. My aunt had no idea this would be my memory from our dates but they are sweet ones none-the-less.

The store went out of business in 1985 but I read online there is a Young-Quinlan store museum and it might be fun to go for a visit.

The building was designated as a local landmark by the Minneapolis Historic Preservation Commission in 1988 and is located on 9^th and Nicollet.

Click here to find out more.

Two Friends

My dad was a carpenter and built our house in a “brand new neighborhood” in Northeast Minneapolis in 1953, the year I was born. Everyone in the neighborhood was new to the area and many lifelong friendships were formed. My mother and Diane’s mother (my recycle birthday card friend) was one of them. I wrote this poem when Darlene died in 2013. My mom died in 2009.

Two Friends

Back in the Fifties

When life was pretty good

In Northeast Minneapolis

Up sprang a new neighborhood.

Children gathered daily

Going outside to play

Fathers off to work

Moms at home to stay.

Friendships were forming

Because everyone was new

Some lasting fifty years or more

Wow – who knew???

Two special families

Lived across the street

Two special women

Destined to meet.

Raising up their children

Having driveway coffee breaks

Always checking on each other

Vacationing to many lakes.

Their daughters grew up

Becoming lasting friends

Sharing McKinley Street stories

No more playing pretend.

Marriages, then grand-kids

Time kept marching on

But playing Bridge and having lunch

Kept their friendship strong.

Four years ago God took the first

And now He’s taken the other

But memories will linger on

Loving memories of our mothers.

September 2013

All Saint’s Day

Sunday’s sermon was about saints in the Bible that have gone before us, then we had an opportunity to light a candle for the saints and loved ones that have gone before us in our own lives. Pastor Abe reminded us that the saints were not perfect people and that the Bible is full of stories of imperfect people being used by God. He reminded us that God is faithful, he doesn’t give up, and he is in the business of redemption.

I lite a candle for both my parents and a very special aunt. Here is a poem I wrote about my mother shortly after she died in 2009. My father died in 1974 when I was 20 years old. I am saddened for the missed opportunity of getting to know him as an adult. I have not written a poem for my dad…maybe someday I will. He was a kind man. ruby

Ruby Red

Red was her color

Ruby was her name

Never much recognition

Never much fame.

But she was a faithful mother,

A grandmother, a friend

Loved and cared by many

Generous to the end.

She surrounded herself with beauty

Both natural and man made

She had a green thumb for growing,

An eye for things that stayed.

From the house on McKinley

To the apartment at Meadowbrook

She kept her place beautiful

It was always fun to look.

Her fun sense of adventure

Took her on many fine trips

And hours of playing bridge

Kept her mind sharp and crisp.

Being with family and friends

Made her most content

She found joy in remembering

Those times were well spent.

So here’s to Ruby

Whose color was red

God blessed her life to 86

An active life she led.

March 2009

A Very Special Birthday Card

envelope-clipart-cliparti1_envelope-clip-art_05 I sent a card off in the mail this week. I went to the post office to get it stamped and the clerk warned me it would cost extra because it was so thick. I responded it’s OK, I expected that. Then I told him it is a birthday card that I send to my childhood friend and we’ve been sending it back and forth to each other since 1979. That’s 37 years! It began during the push for recycling and the card suggested we save it and send it back to the recipient on her birthday the following year. So we did. We keep adding cardstock for room to write our birthday greetings, thus its thickness.

One year it fell out of her mail box on to the street and vehicles ran over it before she was able to retrieve it. Some of the writing is smeared but most of it is intact.

It’s very special, she’s very special, and we have lots of happy memories together, growing up living across the street from each other.

Happy Birthday Diane.

Caramel Corn, the Cat

While looking for my Steiff dog in the bassinet I was reminded of a story about our cat, Caramel Corn. She was a wonderful little kitty cat. She loved to be around people. A friend reminds me of the time she came over for coffee and we sat at our kitchen table and I pulled up a stool so Caramel Corn could jump up and sit there with us!

Another fun memory of Caramel Corn happened when we moved into our new house in Northfield (over twenty years ago). One day I was looking for Caramel Corn and I could not find her anywhere. It was so unlike her to go outside…even when the door was wide open she usually didn’t venture out, but this day I thought she must have sneaked out when a contractor was coming in or going out…that’s the only thing I could think of since I had looked everywhere for her!

I kept working on my project while trying to figure out what to do. I went upstairs to get something and saw a slight movement in the corner….I walked over and there in the bassinet was Caramel Corn, buried among all the stuffed animals! (just like ET for those who remember the scene in the 1980’s movie.) I laughed, took her picture and was relieved to find her safe and sound.

We loved Caramel Corn. She died in 2006 at the age of twelve.