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an everyday life

an everyday life

Tag Archives: Aging

Color My World

06 Saturday Feb 2010

Posted by Janell in Life at Home

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Aging, Birthdays, Everyday Life, Raising Children

The church hall was full of well-wishers.

How many of them, I wondered, would have ever thought my uncle would be celebrating his eightieth birthday today.  Not many, I’m guessing.  Yet, here he stands defying the odds  —  how many years later?… and how many times?… from what many believed would be his deathbed.

Yet, even today, in the midst of this birthday party, I understand my uncle isn’t feeling well.  But to look at him smiling and his eyes twinkling and his arms reaching out for one long hug after another, no one would ever guess what was going on underneath.

I think this is how it is with folks of my uncle’s generation; — it was the same with my parents — they keep their troubles to themselves.  They realize that there is a time and place for everything and today was not a time for sharing pain.  Instead, today was all about joy  — a time to remember and honor a life still being lived.

Propped against the tables were old photos — I’d forgotten than my aunt and uncle were once in a bowling league in the sixties.  How young they looked then, Bob barely thirty and JoAnn not yet thirty.  These two have been part of my life from the beginning, of course — and though I remember them in the 1960’s, I don’t remember them looking like this.

What I do remember is that I always thought my aunt and uncle were rich; and in a way, they were rich, when compared to my family.  They always seem to drive a new car every couple of years, they went on long vacations to neat places like Yellowstone, and they lived in a house that had central air conditioning — all things that were not part of my family’s everyday life.

They were the first in our family to get color television —  at a time when not all shows were broadcast in color — and often, they would invite us to come out to their house to watch television.  Shows like A Charlie Brown Christmas, or The Wizard of Oz — which I didn’t know was bursting with color until I experienced it at Aunt Jo and Uncle Bob’s house.

And while I now know that my aunt and uncle weren’t rich, at least in the way that I once imagined, I see that they were rich, and still are rich, in ways that matter more than money.  Just like the color television set they shared with their poorer relations, my aunt and uncle colored my world with all sorts of nice memories, some centered around the holidays while others just made the everyday more special.

To recount these memories shrinks their importance, makes them seem so little when they were not.  How can I convey my excitement when my aunt stopped by our house to chat with my mother on her way home from work?  Or  when my aunt and uncle picked up my brother and I to take us to the movies with my cousins — where we saw movies like Bye, Bye, Birdie and Summer Magic?

They just showed up in my life.  And today, I just showed up in theirs.

Chocolate Sheet Cake

27 Wednesday Jan 2010

Posted by Janell in Far Away Places, In the Kitchen, Life at Home

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Aging, Chcoloate Sheet Cake, Everyday Life, In the Kitchen, Parents, The Quiet Man, Travel

 

On the Irish Ruins of The Quiet Man set

Buying my father a Christmas gift has never been easy.

Just ask my brother Jon  —  he’ll tell you all about the time he learned too late that  Dad was not a Willie Nelson fan — at Christmas or any other time.  But one year, about sixteen years after that Willie Nelson Christmas, I thought I had finally come up with the perfect gift for Dad, when I offered to take him to Greece, to see the land of his father’s birth.

It should come as no surprise to learn that Greece was not on Dad’s radar.  Instead, my father wanted to go to Ireland.  And not just any old place in Ireland — Dad wanted to make a pilgrimage to a city I had never heard of where a movie I had never heard of had been filmed.  In other words, Daddy had his heart set on a visit to Cong where the movie The Quiet Man had been filmed.

Being the gracious gift-givers that we were, we exchanged Greece for the Irish vacation of Daddy’s dreams.  And before travel plans were finalized, the trip grew to include three days each in Paris and London.   All this horsetrading of countries taught me that my beloved father — the quietest man I had thought to ever know — could be quite vocal when it suited his purpose.

In the end, it didn’t matter where Daddy wanted to go.  To his three traveling companions, it was all good.   The days and nights were a blur of memorable sights and sounds, that collided and bumped into each other like fast-moving scenes from the roller coaster ride my sixty-eight year old father rode at Disneyland Paris.

There were the soaring spaces of Paris — Notre Dame, the Louvre, the Eiffel Tour and the Arc de Triomphe — the green rain and gorgeous plump flowers of the Irish countryside, along with lazy sheep crossings on the way to an intrepid picnic on Dingle Bay shared with sea gulls — a ‘mind the gap’ tour of London tubes and seeing history come to life with visits to the Tower of London and walking in the footsteps of Jack the Ripper.

And then there are all those special memories I will always hold dear, like when Daddy, wearing his new tweed jacket and cap, was mistaken for an Irishman by tourists.  And then there’s the photograph of Dad above, standing near the ruins of the “White-O-Mornin” cottage featured in The Quiet Man.  Daddy took in all fifteen days with wide-eyed wonder.  All the memories are precious, especially as I think of how quiet Dad has really grown over the last year, so that he can no longer string two words together.

Amidst all the changing scenery and countries was the constancy of my sister’s chosen dessert of chocolate cake.  It is because of this shared trip with Daddy, that I can no longer see a slice of chocolate cake without thinking ‘Christi.’   And the sweet irony of the association is that I don’t even think chocolate cake is my sister’s favorite dessert — on her birthday, she always asks for a light lemony cheesecake instead!

But two days ago, when I was enjoying a slice of my family’s favorite chocolate cake, I thought of Sis and this shared memory of a fifteen day tour dotted by pieces of chocolate cake.  And with today’s visit to Dad, it seemed right to flip through the photos from the trip and share this recipe with you, along with the few memories that will forever be held together by crumbs of chocolate cake.

Make a chocolate cake memory and you’ll see what I mean.  From my life to yours.

Chocolate Sheet Cake

2 cups sugar
2 cups flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
2 sticks butter
1 cup water
4 Tbsp cocoa
1/2 cup buttermilk
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla

In a large bowl, sift together all dry ingredients.

In a saucepan over medium heat, bring butter, water and cocoa to boil.  Add the hot mixture to flour mixture.  Sitr well.

Add remaining ingredients and mix well.  Pour in a greased jelly roll pan (10″x15″x2″) and bake at 350 for 20 mins.

Chocolate Frosting

1 stick butter
4 Tbsp cocoa
6 Tbsp milk
1 box powdered sugar (16 oz)
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup chopped pecans (optional)

In a mixing bowl, add powdered sugar.

In a saucepan over medium heat, bring butter, cocoa and milk to a boil.  Immediately pour over powdered sugar, mixing with an electric mixer until smooth.  Mix in vanilla and nuts.   Immediately spread over hot cake.

Going My Way

23 Wednesday Dec 2009

Posted by Janell in Life at Home

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Aging, Christmas Movies, Everyday Life, Going My Way, Parents

Life was going Dad’s way yesterday.  My brother Jon and I haven’t enjoyed this good of a visit with Dad since…. well, let’s just say it’s been a really long time.  We stayed longer than usual, but even then, it was hard to leave.

I wished I had brought a camera to snap Daddy’s photo.  He just looked so good.

Not to make light of it, but after three plus months of going without, Dad has new front teeth for Christmas.  Perhaps I’ve already shared that the nursing home staff inadvertently threw Daddy’s old dentures in the trash three months ago.  To Daddy’s way of thinking, I’m sure he thought his dentures were safe and sound, all neatly wrapped up in a Kleenex sitting by his vanity sink.  And now, after four visits to a dentist, Daddy is all smiles.

Unlike our last visit, Daddy intently followed yesterday’s selected Christmas movie — Going My Way — which use to be a favorite of Daddy’s.   My father was just fourteen when the movie premiered in 1944 — it went on to sweep the Academy Awards.

Like Daddy, I just love that movie.  I want to believe that people like Father O’Malley — the heartwarming character, played by Bing Crosby, who was always thinking of others — really do exist.  It’s just a feel good movie from beginning to end.

Yet, Going My Way never fails to reduce me to a few tears as all loose ends are tied up and Father O’Malley is ready to move on.

The only thing that could have made this mini-Christmas miracle more perfect is if my sister Christi had been there to share it with us.  But I’m sure she was  — in spirit.

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