body & soul

I have not been on the receiving end of "condolences"
for a very long time. 

Yet, I have once again been overwhelmed in my life.

By the goodness, the love, the kindness and caring
of people.

Flowers and food fill my counter tops and refrigerator.

Messages of love and support fill my voicemail,
my inbox, and my text message box.

I feel the arms of others lifting my up.

Both body and soul.

I often have laughed at the Mormon ability to feed
others in times of need.  Without fail, and quicker
than a old fashioned Texas style gun dual of days
gone past, a home can be filled to capacity with
enough food to last from here, to well, eternity.

My counter tops over-floweth.

And yet as I move about in a death induced coma
of fog and heartbreak, I am grateful beyond words,
beyond the capacity to even express these words
coherently.

At the love, and food, that has been bestowed upon
me (and my family) during this time.

That love propels me ever onward.  For life
must, and does, go on.  Even though it feels
like it has most certainly stopped for me,
it has not.

These two constants, both the love and the food,
nourish and feed both my body and my spirit--
my very being, the heart of my soul.

A bowl of warm tomato soup and a tall Dt. Coke
feed my body, nourish me to give me the strength
to move forward into the future.

Physically.

A loving test message on my phone heals my heart,
gives me faith and hope that mankind, humanity, is
more good than bad.  That love indeed does make
the world go 'round.  It, too, gives me strength.

Spiritually.

I am so thankful that my life has been so blessed
through this season of sadness. 

I am so glad that there are so many good people out
there that love me, both body and soul.

Thank you for sustaining me, nourishing me and
helping me to heal.

Both body & soul.

I am a blessed woman.

in loving memory

Thomas W. Ladanye

March 28, 1930-March 17, 2011

We love you and will miss you!

Son. Brother. Father. 
Husband. Grandfather.
Neighbor.  Friend.  

May you rest in peace.

weekend in the Big Apple...a picture story!

On the Airport Shuttle...Catching the Red Eye to NYC

Waiting for the plane to board

Still waiting....midnight sure is late

Flying into NYC...sunrise on the Atlantic at 6 a.m.

WE MADE IT!!! WE'RE IN NYC!

Subway, catching a ride to the Wilcox's. 

Breakfast at the Kitchenette

A Ride on the Statten Island Ferry...

...is ALWAYS windy!

The View of Lady Liberty 

Off to Kleinfeld (Say Yes to the Dress)

No Randy sightings this time!

How they got around for 3 days.  Riding the Subways.

Friday Night "Free Night at the Met"

Walking into the Met.

"Ah yes, This Jackson Pollock makes me feel confused."

A stop at the "Dog"...Papaya Dog of course.  A NYC

must.  2 dogs and a smoothie for $3 Bucks!

Times Square at Night...Shopping, Lights and 3 hours in Toys R Us.

SAY "HI" from the Giant Barbie house in Toys R Us

Brooklyn looking into Manhattan 

Night Lights in the Big City

The Girls shopped out, fed and ready to walk the Brooklyn Bridge at night.

12 hour days are the best way to do it in NYC!

Night time lights looking into the City.

On the Brooklyn Bridge

YES!  Kyle actually was there too.

Grace being gross!

And Silly!

More Shopping

We look pretty!  Oh sooo pretty!

uh huh!

NYC Manhole cover

Three days, 12 hours a day, walking, riding the subway,

Shopping til they dropped, Seeing WICKED (again--Thanks

Curtis family for the tickets), eating Black & White cookies,

cupcakes, Pizza, Bridges and Time Square.

Kyle deserves an award for spending 3 days with 

3 fourteen year old girls--He is a good dad!

The girls had a BLAST and went from dawn til WAY

past dusk.  They laughed and laughed and laughed.

Kyle actually did make it to class all day Saturday and 

sweet Amy Wilcox took the girls down to Times

Square and helped them make it to their 

Broadway Show on time.

Yeah for the NYC!

Yeah for teenage girls!

and

Yeah for one great daddy!

house arrest

Josh has bronchitis.


He was diagnosed yesterday and put on a 
myriad of medicines.


Well, only two actually.


He was also told by me he was not allowed to party
all weekend long.


What does that mean?


No late nights.  No friends.


He is technically under "House Arrest."


The doctor backed me up and told him to rest and let 
his body heal this weekend.


What does that mean?


No late nights.  No friends.


AHA!  Same as what his mother said!


I'm not sure how thrilled he is about all that...


...but let me tell you something...


I AM THRILLED!!!


Last night was the first night in YEARS I got
to go to sleep before midnight (or later) on a 
weekend night.


A girl (or old-woman-mother) needs her beauty 
rest.


I was one happy camper...


...That is until Grace woke me up at 1 AM.


But that....


...is another story for another day.

the white angel

Today I met the "White Angel."


Prior to this morning, I was not even aware of his
existence. In those terms anyway.


As you know, in January I moved my workouts from
outdoors (that snow and cold thing) to indoors.


The Salt Lake Lions Club. Work out haven for
all people over 60.  


And me.


I have the pleasure and joy of working out for an 
hour each morning with Senior Citizens from all over
the east side of the Salt Lake Valley.


They are a consistent bunch if nothing else.


Each morning the same crew of 65 to 85 year old
men and women show up to kick my butt...or as I
like to say "vigorously work out".


But seriously some of them kick my butt.


I don't know any of their names.


I call them "Mr. Walks Really Fast With
Hand Weights Singing Show tunes" Or "He
Always Walks on the Treadmill" or "The
Man Who Runs Faster Than Any Human Alive"
or "Man Who Holds Alzheimer's Wife's Hand
and Tenderly Walks Her Around the Track
Every Day With a Smile".  (He's one of my
favorites--you can SEE the love he has
for this woman who no longer knows him.)


Me?  I would be "The Lady With No Make Up
and Her Hair in a Pony Tail Every Morning."


I don't know where they live or much about 
them, except for snippets exchanged as we 
pass each other on the track.


I am always greeted with a cheery "hello"
or "keep up the good work" or "you sure had
a great work out today" or something of the sort.


When one of them doesn't show up for a day or
two, I always worry that they have died.  They
are very old after all.


Today after I finished my stint on the elliptical
and moved to my time on the track, one of the more
chatty ladies sidled up to me to talk.


Truth be told I am an "anti-social-worker-outer."


I like to focus on the task at hand and am not
much into chatting and discussing current, or
any other, events.  I know lots of people who
love to have an exercise buddy and talk...


I don't.


After a few laps around the track, one of the
regulars dipped off to the side where coats
and water bottles are stored and grabbed 
something off the rack.  He tapped Ms. Chatty
on the shoulder, handed her something and
motioned for her to give it to me.


Then he proceeded to continue on with his walk.
(He's one of the fastest I might add). 


She said to me, "OHHHH he's known as the 'white 
angel' around here.  Always doing something
nice for everyone."  She then handed me something.


It was a brand new lap counter.


You know, one of those thingamajigs that
you press once for every time around the track
to see how far you've gone.  How many clicks
you've gone.  Add up all the clicks and they
become miles.


I was floored.  


ONCE, a few months back he asked me how far
I walked.  I said I didn't know, I just shot
for about an hour and always lost track
of my laps once I got going.  I keep my 
music blasting pretty loud for motivation.
It interferes with number counting in my 
head.


It was mentioned, in passing, a long while 
back.  The exchange forgotten by me, 
until now.


He remembered, and I suppose while at the
store happened to throw an extra lap 
counter in his cart and bring it for me.


It can't have cost more than a buck or two.


A cheap metal counter to help me keep track
of my distance on the track. 


The thing that was priceless was the THOUGHT.


The ONLY thing I know about this man is that
he is in his early 70's, is tall and reed thin.


And he has, well, a shock of thick white hair.


I have seen him pull in the parking lot at the
same time as me, he drives a nice Mercedes. 


He is a mostly "anti-social-worker-outer" too.

He comes, does his laps and moves on with his day.


I have no clue what his name is.


Today in the midst of all the "Hello's" and "How
are you's" and "Way too go! Keep up your good 
work!"  I learned a great lesson.


I think that maybe old people have the secret
to life figured out.


There is no judgement.  They are not concerned
with how you look.  Not once has anyone
ever made a derogatory comment to me.


The ONLY thing I have received, and from
COMPLETE strangers I might add, is support.


Hardly a day has gone by where SOMEONE isn't
telling me (and everyone else there), "Hey
you're doing a great job!"  "Keep up the 
good work!"  "It's great to see you!" "I'm
really proud of you!"


It is like belonging to a community of people
who only want you to succeed, who want you 
to do your best.  


YOUR BEST, not anyone else's best.
JUST YOURS.


They ask nothing else of you.  They see you
at your worst, sweaty, no make-upy self and
STILL only see the good in you.  Still
only want you to be your best self.
Still seemingly "love" you unconditionally.
Still remember it's the little things in life
that count.  Still know and remember that
we're ALL trying our hardest and while
my hardest may not be the same as theirs,
they respect me for trying MY hardest.


I love the things they have taught me,
in their own quiet way.


Like thinking of buying a lap counter for
a complete and total stranger.


Just because it will be helpful.
Just because it will make someone else
happy.


Just because.


Today, I am thankful for the "White Angel"
at the Salt Lake Lions Club.


And for all the other "White Angels" out 
there in my life, and the lives of others.



They make the world a better place for
the rest of us to live in.

updates coming soon! pictures coming soon!

I have been neglecting my blog.


Life has taken over....


(I know Grandma this is your lifeline to my family--
pictures will be added tonight)


News of Note:


Josh made the Olympus Varsity (Club) Volleyball Team.
It is going to be a ROCKING team this year--they talked
some of the Senior Basketball Team Boys into playing.
I cannot WAIT to watch games--they are going to kick
some serious butt!


Kyle (in his spare time) decided to sign on as 
a coach this year too.  He is having a BLAST
working with his son and the other boys.


Grace and Kyle (and 2 of her BFF's) just returned
from a whirlwind long weekend in NYC. Kyle
had a lot of fun shopping with *3* 14 yr old girls
for 3 days. (ahem).  He wins the award for
"best dad".


Josh passed his first ACT test with a score of 29.
Will take one (at least) more to improve on his score.


Senior schedule is signed off and passed in.
My son, the nerd-who is actually NOT a nerd, 
will graduate high school with
almost 2 years of college credit (IF he passes all
his AP tests).  Major emphasis on Science and Math.


And he is EXCITED for next year??!!??!!


I love that kid.


We have about a foot and a half of snow on our front
walk and by Thursday it will be 60....gotta love
spring in Utah!


Pictures coming soon of all these events!


Hugs and Kisses.

travelling

We went to visit my father on Sunday.


This time, he didn't know who I was.


His voice is barely audible when he speaks.


And when he does speak, he speaks of seeing 
his brothers Harry and George, 
and his sister Anne.


They are deceased.


The hospice workers call this "travelling".
It is when the dying "see" those who have passed
on before them.  It is a phenomenon that 
often occurs.  When the dying hover somewhere
between this world, and the next, and greet
those who have traveled on before them.

I find it quite interesting.


My father can no longer stand.  He can
sit only by supporting his frail, fragile
and failing body with pillows.


He is a shadow of himself.  


A ghost really.  A ghost clinging to 
this mortal body.  Barely.


His voice only a whisper of what it once was.


He fell back to sleep, which he does
almost all day and all night now, after 
about a half an hour.


Kyle and I stayed and helped my mother
move, rearrange and take away furniture
from the "living room"--it is now his
"hospital room."


At one point I broke down and wept.
It surprises me the emotional toll
this takes on my very human body.


It exhausts me.  


We made funeral plans.


His funeral plans.


When it was time to go, I walked over
to his bed and leaned over to kiss his
forehead.


"Good bye Dad," I said. "Love you."


His eyes fluttered.  In one brief moment
of clarity he saw me, his daughter, Dorien.


"Oh Dorien!" he exclaimed.  "Good-bye."


I wonder every time, if it will be the last time
I will get to say good-bye.


He is getting ready to travel.


And I guess I am getting ready to let him go.