Family photos and snow days

 Saturday, February 1, 2025

I sleep in, from 1 AM to 7:20. Wow - that's a late lie-in.

After a chat with Mom's primary caregiver and friend, I head outside for a walk. It's snowing! The ground turns white. Growing up in Winnipeg, we got our fill of snow every year. Now I don't care if I never see another snowflake. Chilliwack often gets snow in late January or early February, so this is normal.

It's also cold. I layer up with an undershirt, long sleeved T-shirt, a fleece jacket, socks, and trousers - and a hat. A long waterproof windbreaker and gloves from the entry closet get pulled over everything.

I carefully place my feet on the track to avoid sliding on the fresh layer. Very few people are out. Coming back, our tracks are already covered by the wet white stuff.

As I happily head back indoors, I shake the water off the coat and hat and pat dry my shoes. I have only one pair along. No flip flops for us here!

Norm and I head to Walmart for groceries after Mom has lunch. He buys burgers for an early supper. After that, Mom sips coffee and eats a cookie before we chat for a few hours. We pray together, then I make tea for myself and fill a few empty Sprite bottles with hot water to warm the bed. 

W is speaking at the IES Bandung Gathering. It's 6 PM here (and 9 AM Indonesia) when I join online. 

After, I relax with a few chapters of a book before falling asleep. Before long, the alarm rings for Mom's 11 PM meds.

Sunday

I get back to sleep at 4 AM but I don't have to be up until 10:30. I take a hot bath and lounge around until I'm needed. It snows off and on all day. Pretty but not my style. I don't have boots so I'm locked inside.

I wake Mom and the day is in full swing. Between chores, I make lunch: French toast with cottage cheese and pear slices for lunch; for supper, there's chicken schnitzel, baked potatoes, and cheesy broccoli.

It's a long day of conversations and memories until Mom goes to sleep at 6 PM. I clean up and read a bit before turning out the lights. The alarm rings and by the time we finish the 11 PM appointment, I'm wide awake--(the 11:00 alarm rings at 2 PM Indonesian time, in the middle of my usual afternoon. My body has not yet adjusted.) ...

Monday

Ridiculous jet lag. I lie still for an hour after Mom gets up and takes her meds. I give up and turn on a nightlight to read a book. After the last page, I lie there for another hour. Nope, I'm still not sleepy so my YouVersion reader goes through the last half of Ezekiel (rather depressing, much of it). And I lie in the dark for two more hours. Finally, Kindle reads a whole historical novel. Then I just lie there - the last time I check my watch, it's 9:20 AM. I haven't slept a wink.

Happily, I still get a good hour and a half of sleep before the alarm goes off at 11:00 AM. I help Mom get ready and make lunch (sausage, eggs, and fried potatoes). She has a good appetite, which is a welcome improvement in her health.

We dive into bed for a short snooze after her bath. I take pictures of old photos - and post them on the Frameo device Sandy got her. She reminisces as pictures scroll of her family through the years. (She's the little girl on the left, below.)

Jeremy and Rebekah (our kids) show up midafternoon with A&W Teenburgers and warm conversation. It's lovely to see them - both for Mom and me. They live on the other side of the USA border and the state so it's quite the trip in this winter weather. We pray together and take photos before they head home on the snowy roads.

By 7 PM, Mom and I are ready for sleep. Thank God for rest! We pray for protection over J and R and find out later that the wind pushed them into a snowdrift. They and the car were protected from harm. And a kind passerby helped Jeremy push the car back onto the road.

Tuesday

Sandy does the night shift so I can sleep through. I'm awake for a few hours but not fully alert. In mid-morning, before waking Mom, I go for a 3 km walk in the snow and sunshine. 

When the winter sun comes out in Chilliwack, you have to get outside.

A family of ducks paddles by the opposite bank of the Hope Slough.

Homeschoolers are sledding on the river slope. The dad pushes the kids at the top, while the mom catches them on the riverbank before they hit the freezing water.

The weeping willows keep their beautiful gold colored branches.

The grasses have turned grey and tan along the trail, too.

I spend an hour browsing old photo albums. Mom enjoys those new photos on her Frameo. She says, "It helps me to remember the past when I see all these pictures." She hasn't seen some of these pictures in years.

The photos show the startling differences between the body proportions of today's young adults and the youths of the 1950s. My parents' generation ate healthy portions of home cooked food, didn't have access to modern junk foods, and consumed few snacks.

It's fun to see the courting couple: Dad is 20 and Mom is 17 (below).

They were so in love. They stayed that way their whole life. When Dad died at 88 years of age, they'd been married over 67 years.

Mom is at her bridal shower in 1953 with Aunt Thelma, Dad's only sister.

Mom has kept a sweet smile on her face from childhood until now. On Grandma's deathbed, she told Mom: "You were always my sunshine." And she's still the warm heart of our family.

My parents married in August 1953. Their parents who were in their early and mid 40s. No wonder people say 60 is new 40.

There's a pic of our wedding, posing with my grandmas. It's hard to imagine that they were barely 60 years old at the time. Both grandmas lived into their late 80s.

We get great news. One of our sons has been offered work in Germany, an answer to prayer. We talk to my younger brother and his daughter in Germany about that. Mom chats with another brother. We call Kirsten (my daughter) to see how she's doing. It's a total family day.

We send pictures of Mom's meals to the head caregiver. Today, Mom eats crepes and a hearty serving of fried potatoes, eggs, and sausage. It's amazing how she has rallied. What a gift to the family.

The wonderful thing is that each family conversation ends with prayer: we worship and give thanks to God, along with any petitions that have been mentioned. Prayer is not merely our tradition. It's a life-giving and personal blessing we offer each other before God.

W lands in Seattle, rides the light rail into the city, and gets a ride to our house from Jeremy and Rebekah. In a few days, he'll visit his mom and join me here.

Read more:

*[Before his death, Moses said to the people of Israel:] This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses.

Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life, and he will give you many years in the land he swore to give to your fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Deuteronomy 30:19-20

*Can you fathom the mysteries of God? Can you probe the limits of the Almighty? They are higher than the heavens above—what can you do? They are deeper than the depths below—what can you know? Their measure is longer than the earth and wider than the sea. Job 11:7-9

*Is not my word like fire, says the Lord, and like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces? Jeremiah 23:29

*Indeed, the word of God is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. Hebrews 4:12

Moravian Prayer: God of all, we are grateful for your promise made flesh in Christ our Savior. May we hold Jesus’ lessons in our hearts and reflect them to others this and every day. Amen.

Missing my dad's voice

Saturday, December 14, 2024

4 years ago from yesterday, my dad died. I miss him more this year than ever. I want to run ideas past him, hug his barrel chest, and hear his curt snap-back with an answer to any question we had. He was a quick and instinctive thinker who said what he thought without filtering words in case someone wanted to take offense. What a relief it was to call him for an honest opinion!

I miss his integrity. He warned me most often to be myself - to be the best self that God designed. He told me to ignore gossip and small thinking. He sure loved his family and his grandkids - and considered each of us his priceless treasures.

He said aloud what we both felt about management and gave me solid counsel: "Get the best executive admin and leave the details to that person. If you can't trust him/her with your money, your people, and your life, they're not the right fit. And when you find that person, don't let them go, no matter what others say."

He did that. He was a high trust person and a good boss who didn't hold a grudge if you failed. "Try again!" he'd say. "Failure is a lesson that cost only a blow to your pride or a chunk of your budget." He taught us that those could be recovered but you had learned something new and valuable. However, when someone betrayed or harmed others, that person was gone.

He let Mom run the home. At work, Patti ran the office. He handed her the administration, budgets, and office planning. So he worked at work and was home at home. I'd happily do the same.

In contrast, W grew up with a different level of trust. He manages our money and keeps personal things private. Because he wants things done the way he likes them, he prefers to do them himself. There's no way he'd hand the bulk of life's details to an executive assistant. However, he doesn't want fill his plate with most of the 101 details that an assistant tracks. So that stuff lands in my lap.

I'm stuck as my own executive admin, scribbling notes and sending them into the capable hands of others. "Did you get the social media up?" "Please create an announcement for the upcoming event." "Pls schedule the meeting. Check how many can attend at X:00." "Do we have resources for the volunteers?" "Can you check who is looking after ...?" It feels endless and exhausting to someone like me, who is wired to the big-picture.

I've seen leadership done and done well. And I've read that the best executive assistants love to pick up everything I'd happily drop. They run the world from behind the scenes. It's my fondest daydream to be able to sit down once a month with an executive admin to look over the quarter's budget and current calendar. I'd task that person to oversee social media, money, schedules, volunteers, resources, agendas, and more. 

I rarely have energy to cast vision or start new things. I don't mind occasional questions but wouldn't it be amazing to check off a day's meeting and tasks ... and still have capacity to think creatively about the year (or 5 years) ahead, setting something in motion (like Dad did) and letting others run it?! Dream on.

Today, my Dad would probably challenge me: "What's the matter with you? Why are you wasting your time on that?" haha I still hear his voice and feel his love.

I'd reply: "I know, Pop. I miss you, even when I can't follow your advice."

It's what it is. W and I have a satisfying life. I'm writing this on a tropical Porch overlooking a beautiful green backyard. That provides an antidote to the internal chaos of living strangely different from the way I'm wired.

Oops, hang on. Before I head out the door to that pre-meeting, let me write a quick note: "Are we covered for tomorrow's ...?"

Sunday

That morning pre-meeting pays off today. The team works together and knows their stuff. In the hall, Daniel has hung pictures of the IES family beside a tinsel tree for everyone to enjoy.

My new shoes had fit well in the stop. However, after wearing them for an hour I have blisters on my second toes. They also pinch the little toe on my left foot so hard that the pain is almost unbearable. I lift my foot every 10 minutes to release pressure. When I do, my whole foot shakes with relief.

It's a weird feeling to have no control of a foot flapping from the knee down. Hopefully no one notices. I remove my shoes during a meeting after the Gathering. And slide in with a different position afterward. Ah better - and even more relief when I take them off at home.

Our daughter shows me her solution for the ugly plastic pot under her Christmas tree: washi tape. Clever. Looks expensive and matches her coffee table!

In our yard, a clipping has rooted and is blooming in bright Christmas colors.

We walk by a mother hen with two chicks tucked under her wing. Another three peck at garbage nearby. We breathe shallowly and hiss at the chickens so they run out of the dogs' (harm's) way. For our one-mile loop, we endure a short stroll past the garbage dump before passing Bandung's 5-star hotel. (W reads their ad: "$300 instead of $600/night.") That's typical of the side-by-side contrasts in our city.

The Porch is quiet. The garden drips with rain - it's a miserable afternoon but we're under cover and the wind chimes are singing.

We eat lunch at a new place but nothing on the menu hits the spot. The ramen is warm not hot, without many noodles. My sandwich is grilled in olive oil = too much grease for me. But W like his sandwich and doesn't mind lots of oil.

The flowers from the hall are amazing as usual. We put them on the coffee table. Each week, Titik captures the beauty of the season in her arrangements.

"Flowers are hard to find," she admits. "Not much is available in flower shops right now." She supplements with plants from her own yard. What a gift of celebration she offers IES Bandung and us, week by week. When we visit hospital or others, we share the arrangement.

Monday

My friends and mentors teach me so much. Monday morning starts with calls. Work is work but the backdrop is festive when you work from home.

W and I head into town for most of the day, getting groceries for Christmas baking and events. He picks up the unrepaired weed-wacker (too broken to fix; he'll see if someone wants it for parts.) 

You know what a culture eats by what is stocked by their grocers. One entire aisle is 1-2 liter bags of cooking oils.

Another aisle is lined with ramen and other instant noodles.

When we get home, DrW has dropped off tea and cookies - she knows my favorite tea, which is only available in Malaysia.

At night, the lights glow.

Tuesday

This is my usual view on the neighborhood walk. W holds three dogs on one leash.

By the time the helpers come at 8 AM, I've relaxed by setting the table for afternoon tea.

The clotted cream is whipped, the marmalade is plated, and the butter and sugar are ready.

Today is baking day! The ingredients wait at room temperature on the counter as we pull out Christine's KitchenAid. W plugs it into the voltage adapter. There's no time to fool around with a hand mixer. I hear the familiar whir of the beater - we had a KAid in Seattle and it makes fast work of serious baking.

Today and Thursday, IbuA is making and refrigerating dough for +2000 cookies. IbuS and I will bake until all cookies are done. Angie has designed labels for the giveaway bags. Next week, Alice and crew will package the cookies for several events, making it a group project. The logistics are in place; we're praying for smooth sailing!

We confirm which guests are staying with us over Christmas and write Sunday's talk for the 4th Sunday of Advent.

The topic is PEACE. God's peace is much needed. And much appreciated. We hang the Advent ornament of the day on the tree. Each clear glass globe contains a verse and a Christmas item.

We wish you a wonderful season. There's one week left until Christmas. Please ensure you are not celebrating the birth of Jesus alone. Go to a church, meet with a group of friends, or gather with family. Make this the most special time of the year, whether it's been a year of joy or sorrow - because God is for you and his love is with you.

Read more:

*Love truth and peace. Zechariah 8:19

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:7

Moravian Prayer: Understanding Savior, you are able to comprehend the message of our hearts, even when words fail us. We rejoice to be seen, heard, and known by you. Amen.

Lent Day 10: Thankful for Auntie Molly

"She would have been 84 today," says Uncle Erich. We're laughing and sighing over wonderful memories of his wife and my "best auntie" Amalia. From what Mom tells me about her big sister, Auntie Molly was a cheerful happy girl. Uncle Erich confirms that she had lots of friends all her life.

Uncle Erich and Aunt Molly were a team, married over 50 years. In the opportunistic manner of youngsters, we felt bad that they didn't have kids of their own, but we were happy in their undivided affection. They'd let my cousin and me sit with them in church, take us home for flavorful home-cooked meals, and tuck us into thick feather-beds for sleepovers. In short, their home was a child's heaven.

I learned to pray by listening to them pray. I learned to cook by smell in the fragrance of their kitchen. I learned hospitality by watching them create meals and set the table for hundreds of guests. I learned beauty and decor from Auntie Molly's daring schemes: the crimson velvet drapes from their living room now hang in our chocolate-brown bedroom.

When I was 11, we moved across the country––so they never scolded me about boyfriends, modern styles, or anything else that bugs adults about teenagers. Our phone calls and visits were joyful and affirming. Their fervent prayers surrounded my days and guard my nights. Their godly examples reminded me that people with a heart for God have hope and a future.

God made us, called us to love and work, and guides our steps. He did not give these caring folk biological children but they have been spiritual father and mother to many of us.

This morning's BBC reported on a Kenyan family who cares for 49 orphans beyond their own three kids. I recognized that family's love and prayers from my own childhood, a haven of loving embraces, strict morality, high expectations, and kneeling together to talk to God. I just have to hear Uncle Erich's voice to have a flood of warm memories fill me to bursting. I often wish I could run across town to sit at his table for tea or invite him for dinner.

If you're single or childless, I appeal to you to find children who are hungry for attention and significance. My family was healthy and happy: Mom and Dad didn't neglect or abuse us. But that extra-special touch from my Auntie Molly and Uncle Erich colored my life-pages with enduring beauty.

Today, I thank God for those who––knowing how God loved us and gave his Son for us––share that love with others. You live your private moments and unheralded ordinary days filled with grace, generosity, and hospitality. We children never forget how you take us in, put up with our childhood messes, and make us feel like no one else in the world is more special than we are to you.

During Lent, grateful for the Savior's love, I can say about my sweet auntie on her birthday (and of my uncle, too), "I have seen Jesus reflected in you." Thank you!

Read more:
*God knows what is in the darkness, and light dwells with him. Daniel 2:22

*Whatever is hidden is meant to be disclosed, and whatever is concealed is meant to be brought out into the open. Mark 4:22 (NIV)

Moravian Prayer: Revealing God, we know your intent is always to open yourself to us in every way imaginable. Help us to have the ears to hear and the eyes to see the truths that you are constantly laying out before us. Guide us to live in accordance with those truths. Amen.