New Years Eve

Most of the Christmas visitors have gone home.   The stacks of clean towels represent the fact that there were eleven of us here.    Everyone used the towels provided and now they are clean again.

The towels remind me of the summer of 1995, over 26 years ago.  We were preparing to move to Perth, Western Australia where my husband would be the US Consul General.  The house we were moving into was a large house with five bathrooms.   My mother took me shopping for towels and was telling anyone who would listen that I was moving into a mansion with five bathrooms.  She bought me a couple of sets of striped towels that were pink and green.  Also some flowered towels and I am sure some others.  I still have some of those towels but they are pretty thread bare.    But, my mother was so proud of me and of us.     I wish she had been able to visit us there.   By then she was disabled by the stroke she had when she was 62.  Five years younger than I am now- it made her old.    It's sad to think about.   And now she is gone.

Yesterday I sat with a dying friend.  She is in hospice and will die soon.  I held her hand.  We talked about funny memories.  People we have both known and loved or tolerated or avoided.  I am so lucky to have been her friend for more than 20 years.   We have gone through so much together.  She is not afraid to die.   I will miss her terribly.

And now we are entering a new year much like the last one.  COVID rates are going up.  People are still refusing to be vaccinated and are overcrowding our hospitals.

We are healthy.  The kids are healthy and strong and smart and independent.   

Looking at home movies (on DVDs now) we saw some movies of our firstborn as a baby and toddler.   We were so young!  I was thin and had long hair.   But the feeling that struck me the most as I saw that baby's smile and her sparkling eyes was how much joy there is in being a mother.   Nothing else has given me that.   It is deep and honest and primal.   

Happy New Year 2022!!

  

Merry Christmas

 

Solstice

 

The days will start getting longer now which I guess means winter is half way through.    I don't pay a whole lot of attention though. I will notice the changes but they are generally gradual enough that it's just what happens.

Two kids are here.  With their cats. Two more arrive in two more days.  Then the last four arrive on Christmas Day.

I honestly do not feel as stressed as I have at many past Christmases.   All the presents are wrapped and under the tree.   Two trees are up and decorated.    We have everything we need for various baking projects.  And if they don't happen that's fine too.

So I sit and knit.  I will not have the TV on all day like I usually do.  I am sure I can handle the TV withdrawal for a week or so/ or less.

Buddy, the dog, is still lame though he seems to be improving a bit.   I don't think he will ever be back to 100%, but then, who will.

It's stinkin' cold this morning!  Gotta take care of Buddy.  Then take a shower and get ready to go to the train station to pick up the next group of kids.

I feel like I should have some profound words here. But I don't

 Life is fluid. It flows.  Time passes.  Sometimes I feel like time doesn't move at all.  I can sit for hours and play solitaire on my phone.  Or knit.  And watch episode after episode of Law and Order or some other murder mystery.   Day after day.  With an occasional change- doing some dishes.  Making myself a sandwich.  Doing laundry.   I am not bored although it sounds boring.   I am pretty something:  content?  happy?  satisfied?  There's not a yes or no answer.   I think that the pandemic had to a large extent contributed to my current state of being.

Almost two years ago now, this all started.  I remember marveling at how little traffic there was compared to before the pandemic.  My full, scribbled on calendar was suddenly empty of entries aside from the occasional dentist appointment.    

I am getting used to the inertia.  

And then some big things happen and change my world.  A friend who is the age of my own daughter is diagnosed with cancer.    Lymphoma.  She has been in and out of the hospital for months.  In more than our.  Her cancer metastaticized to her brain.  She had to have brain surgery.   I don't know what the biopsies will show.   It is so scary.  She has young children who have not been allowed to visit the hospital and see their mommy.  She told her husband that she wants to pursue the most aggressive treatment possible.  Of course she does- she has small children.

Another friend, who is in her 80s is dying.  She has end stage cancer.  I spent several hours at the hospital with her recently.   She hardly opened her eyes.  She has no hair.  She spoke, but only a little.  But she was completely lucid.   She knows that she is dying.  It's just when.  Soon, I am sure.  Her son, who at 48, could be my child, has been working on orchestrating a move for his mother into hospice.   Of course there are roadblocks.  There are not enough beds in the hospice facility so that means that someone must die or move on somehow or another to make room.   

Sitting with my dying friend was not totally sad.  It was sobering.  It was very real.  But it was mostly gentle.  When her back was hurting I was able to offer a back rub.  It didn't make the pain go away, but it helped soothe the pain.    I know that I will miss her.  I already so.

When I was driving home from visiting the hospital I saw the most beautiful sunset.  I pulled over to the side of the road and turned on my flashers so I could get our of the car and just stare at the sky.

Was the world telling me something?  Was the sky opening up a space for another person to join in?

It's December already!

 I have been shopping online for Christmas gifts for the last few weeks.    I am getting excited about having all of the kids here!  

Courtney and Zach are flying in- on the "red eye" arriving at around 6:30 am.     Morgan and Kim are taking the train- arriving in the middle of the day- a day or two before C&Z.  Darcy and Jody are (I assume) driving up with two of her kids.   Austin will be driving down from Maine with his cat and Chance will be driving up from Richmond.  Also with a cat.

So we will have 10 more people in the house than we usually have.  Good thing we have such a big house!

Nick and I consider the master bedroom upstairs to be our bedroom.  There is a smaller master bedroom on the main floor that we think of as the guest room.  But, since Buddy has been hurt and unable to climb stairs, we have moved into the main floor bedroom.   I really miss our bedroom, but it's okay.  Buddy is more important.

We have a whole system.  Buddy steps onto a blanket and then we gently lift him into the laundry basket.  That goes onto the "trolley", which has wheels on it and we wheel Buddy to a grassy place to go to the bathroom.  The system works well, but Nick and I are getting more exercise than we can handle almost.

this is Buddy's makeshift stroller.

I ordered calendars, as I do every year and have done for longer than I can remember.  The photos on the calendar are all pictures that I have taken.  Somehow either the calendar makers or  myself got something mixed up.  The first page of the calendar is April.   From there, all of the months are in the correct sequence,  but January, the supposed first month, is somewhere in the back pages of the calendar.   I am sure it will be okay.  Just puzzling a bit.

Yesterday I wrote the annual letter that I send out with our Christmas cards.  I have been mentally composing the letter for a while now (I do that every year).   I was going to say how hard this year has been with the loss of friends due to Covid, cancer and accidents.   I was going to go on about how it's been a hard year for everyone.  But when I sat down to write, none of the gloom and doom came out at all.  I wrote a pleasant, chatty letter.   That's better than the gloomy one I had planned.

Thanksgiving 2021

 Thanksgiving came and went.   There was turkey, stuffing- both "regular"  and gluten free.   Cooked carrots, mashed potatoes, gravy and gluten free rolls.    Pumpkin pie and whipped cream after.

My sister Carol, and her son, Tom (I call him Tommy) were here.  My son Chance and my husband Nick.  It was a small gathering, but it was nice.  Chance and Tommy are first cousins, but have not really spent much time as adults (as Chance later said to me).

Carol's dog Leah and our Buddy was here too.  Poor Buddy is recovering from soft tissue damage to his back legs, so he is essentially crippled at the moment.

It's funny how, after a meal, it is so comfortable to stay at the dining room table and talk.    I think it's because we are all facing each other and so conversation is easy.   

Carol and I talked a lot about Thanksgivings past and how crazy families are.   Memories!

It was really a nice day!

Thanksgiving 2021

 I have not checked, but I suspect that I write something about the melancholy I feel as the holiday season approaches every year.  Of course the pandemic has exacerbated everything.

An online, Zoom  memorial service this afternoon doesn't help.

There will be a small number around our table for Thanksgiving this year.  We have had so many different Thanksgiving experiences over the years.  It was always a time shared with family unless we were overseas.  And then we grew our own family.

Our first Thanksgiving dinner overseas was 1996 in Bangkok.   I was pregnant (with the baby we lost).  I figured that there would be too much waste with a turkey, so we cooked a duck.  I had no idea that duck has so little meat!   Learned a lesson there.

In 1984 or 85, I cannot remember, we had a Thanksgiving gathering in our house in Tromso, Norway.  I cooked two turkeys:  one was ordered form the butcher shop in town, the other one we bought in Finland.  The Norwegian turkey did not have enough fat I guess.  It's leg bones broke in the oven.  The Finnish turkey was much meatier and juicy.  An American friend who worked in a hotel was able to get sweet potatoes .  There were some American high school kids- exchange students, living there and we had them for dinner.  I remember explaining in Norwegian,  that Courtney would be missing school that day.  How did I explain Thanksgiving in Norwegian?   The closest I could get was to say that it was the day we thank god for all we have to be thankful for.

In Taiwan, a group of us went to a friend's house for a pot luck dinner.  The host was to serve turkey.  Unfortunately it was discovered too late that the host's propane for the oven had run out before the turkey was fully cooked!

In China we had a community dinner.  I remember cooking two turkeys that year as well.   

Our family grew and grew over the years.  Family dinners were the norm.  Then the kids grew up and had lives of their own.  The older generation grew old and eventually they all died.

And now we are the older generation.   

And I find myself spending hours and dollars online ordering Christmas gifts.  All of the "kids" will be here for Christmas.  Their partners/ spouses and a few cats and kids too.

So I anticipate.  I grieve.  And I look forward to the joy.

1992

Life?

 Life.  Life.  It goes on and on.  I spend much of my time, and therefore my life, thinking about my kids.   How much I like them.  How much I miss them.  How much I wish I had been nicer and more patient with them.  All of them.

They are all adults and have been for a while.  My "baby" is 30!   When I was 30, I had my third child.  I had been married for 12 years.  I did not consider myself a child at all.

But then, when my mother forgot to call me on my birthday, or didn't write for a few weeks, I was a sad, tearful child again.  Feeling hurt.  "feeling sorry for myself".  That's what I was told I was doing when I was a kid and got upset.   I am sure I said hurtful words to my children too.  It's hard, and impossible to be the perfect parent that you think you should be.

The kids are all planning to be here for Christmas.  I am happy.  I am excited.  And I am nervous.  Will someone get mad at someone else.  Will we all be able to keep patient with each other.  Will they find Nick and I annoying?

I want to hold my babies faces in my hands, one at a time, and look into their eyes.  The eyes that used to gaze into mine as if I was their world, their universe.   All of them held my attention in their eye contact and love.

Nick and I were talking today about how seldom we "fight" these days.  We don't annoy each other as much or in as many ways as we used to.   Maybe we've figured out that fussing doesn't fix anything.   We "yell" sort of, but we always end up laughing.

I wonder if, as you get older and less hormonal, you become more mellow and reasonable?     I told Nick that I wish I had been able to be this mellow when the kids were kids.  But it is almost impossible.   You can have one kid yelling "wipe me" while another one is asking for something and yet another  is beating up a sibling.  There is nowhere for mellow and peace to find itself.

I recall the 10:00 TV shows.  Whatever was the popular show of the day, I would stay up to watching it "China Beach", Thirty Something"  "Northern Exposure".  "Hillstreet Blues " and "Cagney and Lacey".    I am sure there are more.  That was MY time.  The house was quiet. Maybe the youngest one would sit with me nursing himself to sleep.  But it was the only time I relaxed.

Lately I have been finding myself thinking about the two I didn't have.   That first baby would be 44 now.  I always imagined it was a girl although I never knew.  Maybe that's the baby that would grow up and make me into a grandmother.   Maybe that would have been the one that was mellow and helped me be a mellower mother.    We talked about the name Symphony Sky.   Yesterday we were watching something on TV and one of the characters was a woman named "Sky".   We both noticed it and talked about Symphony Sky.    The other lost baby was too early to really have much of a fantasy life about.   It was just a piece of me for a few short weeks and then it was gone.   A blob in the toilet.  A dream not realized.

Everyone grieved for the first baby.  Nick-named "Nabisco".  Everyone knew I was pregnant.  I looked it.  I planned for a baby- even bought baby clothes and cloth diapers.    The other one- Nick and I knew.  And then it was gone.

This is my 95 year old friend holding hands with her first great grandchild.

Halloweens Past

When we were living in Tromsø we did not celebrate Halloween.  At least, the Norwegians didn't.

But, Nick was going to Oslo on business at the embassy, and since the embassy was having a Halloween party for the American kids in the embassy community, it seemed like it would be fun to take our three to have some Halloween fun as well.

 I made the kids' costumes.  The most challenging part for me was trying to figure out what the Norwegian word for the color "orange" is.  The fruit, orange is not necessarily the color we have in the States.   Same goes for pumpkins.  A pumpkin in much of the world is seen only as a vegetable and might not be very orange at all.  So, I told the lady in the fabric store that I needed "carrot" colored fabric.    That worked out just fine!   I am sure she wondered why anyone would want to make something carrot colored!

We packed up our suitcases, costumes and all and flew to Oslo with Nick.   We were staying in a hotel.  Since Nick had to work, I was in charge of getting the kids to the embassy party.

It was cool enough to wear coats and jackets.  I remember wondering what people thought of Courtney.  She had a dress on over her tutu, and a coat over that.  Of course Morgan had a pumpkin hat on.  And Darcy was dressed as a clown.

I just remember standing there waiting for a taxi and feeling very self conscious.  And a bit silly too.  I restrained myself from laughing out loud for fear of being hauled off to the loony bin.  I suppose they have them here!

 Notice "The Pumpkin".   Nick's mother gave it to us so we could have seasonal decorations wherever in the world we might be living.  It is in the pictures of the kids that were taken in 1985.  And now, it is in our house in Aldie Virginia in 2021 

 

 

It's Fall

 The temperature are falling.  Today is warm, but the mornings and evenings are cool.   Soon to be cold and even freezing!

I brought out some fall decorations from the basement.

Borrowed from Facebook

 

Here I am. Not much new

I have been feeling so blah lately.    I guess it is  depression and lack of desire to do much of anything.  I have all sorts of things I want to do.  But I don't.  Once I get started on something- anything- I get going.  It's just starting that I am finding so hard.

I sit and I knit.   I watch TV.  I "do" Facebook.   I want to walk and exercise but it hurts too much.

I am annoyed with myself that I am above the weight I need to be to get my second knee replacement.  I am working on it.  Really I am.

And I think about the kids-my kids- all the time.  I miss them.  I day dream about buying houses in various places near where they are.  One in Portland, near Courtney's house.  One in Maine near Austin's house.  I have not seen Morgan & Kim's new to them house, so I don't have a fantasy of houses there.  And, living here, in Aldie, I feel like Darcy & Jody, and Chance, can come visit here any time.

Going through a box this afternoon I found old pictures that Nick's dad took.  Many of them are contact prints so they are pretty hard to identify.  And, there are no labels or notes saying what they are, where they are and when they were taken.    And it brings me to that feeling of regret that Nick and I left so many things unsaid and unknown.  There are questions we want to ask, but can't.   Information and memories that will never be known or shared.   It's times like that when I really miss people.  My mom and dad, Nick's parents.  All of the grandparents.  All of those who were there before and we never knew.

And then, out of the blue, Austin sent me this wonderful picture of himself with a pumpkin that he grew.   And I feel good.  

Twenty Years Ago Today

 

First Person Experience- copied and borrowed with permission

 

Connie Davis

1a3toSp hlonsrosraefdnla  · 

I have permission from my cousin, Shari, to share her recent experience. She has experience with hospitals as both an employee and a patient. It’s worth reading to the end. Like Shari, I’m worried about my adult son who has to have abdominal CTs and just got through a bout of severe diverticulitis last week, plus I’m concerned about my pregnant daughter due next month in a hospital very busy trying to save COVID patients, right now. Hospitals are trying to serve people, even those who are not protecting others even when it’s possible. Here is Shari’s view:

“Sorry this is LONG. I just wanted to share my experience yesterday afternoon. It was extremely eye opening. As many of you know I had a pretty scary hospital stay last October. Well, a few days ago I started having the EXACT same symptoms that dang near killed me. Initially, I didn’t go to the hospital for a couple of reasons. 1. The staff are absolutely overwhelmed. 2. There are sicker patients than me, so I didn’t want to take away from them. 3. I just didn’t want to take “time”. James finally took me to the ER yesterday.

Once there it was like a war zone. I have never in my life experienced such sickness. It’s really only the stuff you see on TV not in real life. As you go in you are asked a million questions, given a hospital grade mask, and triaged. Lots of COVID questions and if you’ve been vaccinated. This was 3 pm in the afternoon on a Wednesday. James and I were secluded with the other folks who were not there for COVID. The positive and potential COVID patients were taken to another area. This is what I witnessed: Patient comes in with 2 teenage children. She is almost completely out of it. Head back, eyes closed, shallow breathing, and coughing uncontrollable. Her kids were TERRIFIED. They told the check in gal their Mom was positive for COVID and not vaccinated. They whisked her to the COVID area. Another patient (older) comes in with his brother. Again, positive for COVID and has never had a vaccine in his life. He probably isn’t going to make it. We over heard his brother talking to someone on the phone and they were making “final arrangements”. Patient #3 comes in slumped over in a wheelchair. Positive for COVID and not vaccinated. Patient #4 leaving the ER is waiting for her ride, positive for COVID (unknown vaccination status). This same patient scenario happened close to 10 times in the 2 hours I was waiting to be seen. I was triaged as “wait” because there were so many COVID patients coming in. Yet, if I had the same thing as last October I could easily rupture internally and die within minutes.

Other things I saw: One patient came out from the back of the ER screaming at staff for not being fast enough. He screamed “I’m never coming back to this f***king place!” I thought well with that attitude they are probably happy about that! The check in gal, who was older, got reamed more times than I can count. At one point when she was sitting at the desk, she had tears streaming down her face. She kept saying to herself “there are just so many sick people, when will this stop!” She cried about the 2 teenage kids who had no one but their Mom. No one to come pick them up. They had no idea if their Mom was going to live or die. At one point there was a patient in the waiting room that came from another hospital. Very irate. A doctor actually came out and talked to them. He was so sympathetic, yet the people were awful to him. They can only do so much when there is so many sick people!

When I finally got a room, I asked the doc “please just give me a quick CT and if there are no abscesses I will get out of the way” I had 2 docs and they were the best ER docs I’ve ever had. They were so kind. You could see how tired they both are. The male doc was a bit irritated that I didn’t come in the minute the symptoms started. He said “you know this could be really bad for you!” I told him I knew, but didn’t want to take away from the COVID and super sick patients. He said if he had a dollar for every time, he’s heard this recently. He said “don’t you EVER feel guilty about coming to see us!” The nurses were top notch. But you could see they were tired, overwhelmed, and sad. I thanked each of them for their selflessness.

This just isn’t at the hospital it’s EVERYWHERE. I have family members who are in the hospital or sick with COVID. I have friends who have COVID and are in the hospital. I have one friend who’s been on a ventilator for 2 weeks. He’s in his 40’s. I had another beautiful friend who had COVID and everyone thought she wasn’t going to make it. On a ventilator not doing good at all. Thank God, she pulled through. I have seen friends lose their family members to COVID.

This post is not a debate. I am simply sharing my thoughts and feelings. When will it stop? When will people take this seriously? I understand some people can’t get vaccinated for health reasons. I get it. But, at what point do people realize there is enough sickness and death that might be prevented by getting a vaccine? I know people are passionate about “not being told what to do” “I’m not being mandated to have a shot!” It’s your choice, but why should those who choose not to get vaccinated go around and infect many more? I couldn't work for 2 weeks because someone not vaccinated chose to go to work KNOWING he was positive. For the love of God, if you are able to get the vaccine, please consider doing it.

If you not vaccinated, I still love you and pray you don’t get sick.”

I read obituaries

 I don't think of myself as being obsessed with/ by death.  It's something that we all go through.  Now that my parents, my brother, and my in-laws are dead I am probably more profoundly aware of my own mortality than I was when they were still living.

Over the 50 years that Nick and I have been together we have lost many pets to death.  It's been so sad and terrible and hard to understand.  Sometimes unexpected but it's what happens when you live with domestic animals.   You enter into the parent roll with pets with the knowledge, perhaps hope, that you will outlive them.      Our pets are our "babies" in a special way and we have a special bond with them.   But in general our relationship with our pets is only shared with a few people.

The people in our lives, on the other hand, have lives outside of their relationships with us.   We don't "own" our family and friends.  We share them with the world.   

Now, back to my saying that I read obituaries.  Why do I read them?   I don't think it is macrabe, although I have been known to have a black sense of humor.   No, I read them because they are interesting.  I learn about people who somebody cared enough about to write a few words to share.   The most basic obits says "he left to be with our Lord".   More detailed ones have the person's whole life history  A story of where they were born, what they did professionally, who they left behind and who pre-deceased them.   Often I will find myself feeling a connection and even a bond with someone I had never heard of before.   My world grows in this way.

Occasionally, I will see the name of someone I know/ knew.   And a memory of that person elicits is the thought of how I knew them.  

The world is diminished by the loss of an individual yet often, enhanced by the person's contributions to their family, friends and community.

I have more thoughts on this.  Maybe I will write more on the subject at another time.

Fuck Cancer

Leche GaGa aka Stephanie Jordan

Two Friends, in the same week have died from cancer.  I wrote about Terry, who died on August 23rd. Stephanie Jordan died today.  

 I never met Stephanie in person, but knew her online/ Facebook as a sister La Leche League Leader.  We were both moderators on a Facebook parenting group until she was not able to continue.

She was an amazing, high energy woman. She loved skating in roller derby.   Her roller derby name was "Leche Ga Ga".

She had fought breast cancer and had shared her journey with the world.  She had double mastectomies and reconstruction surgery and was very open about it all.

When she was better, her husband got ill and just over a year ago he died of cancer (don't know what type).    And, her breast cancer came back.  It metastasized to her spine,  brain and vital organs.  Stephanie went through rounds of chemotherapy but ultimately it became clear that she would not recover.

Several years ago, when my head was shaved for brain surgery, a fellow La Leche League Leader sent me a hat that was made from La Leche League print fabric.  When Stephanie lost/ shaved her hair, I sent the hat on to her.

She made the world a better place and her absence is a great loss.  But I am glad I was lucky enough to be gifted with her friendship.

Rest in Peace Sweet Stephanie.

Stephanie in the LLL hat

Me in the LLL hat

Goodbye dear friend, Terry

Terry Stafford is someone I have been aware of for what seems like forever.  She wrote two books for children about being a nursing toddler.   I have both books and read them to my children over and over for years.

I first met Terry in an elevator in Kansas City, in 1983. We were attending a La Leche League International Conference.  I knew about Terry's wonderful illustrations.  At the time I was thinking ab out writing a book about traveling with babies and children.  I had hoped I could get Terry to be my illustrator  The book never happened and so Terry did not illustrate it.

In the 90s the world of the internet exploded.  We were living in Australia, and I was thrilled that I could connect with my family and friends all over the world by email.  Small groups were forming, and I joined an online group of La Leche Leaders.  Some of us were more interested in menopause and aging parents than we were in  potty training and discipline.  We formed a small group of a little over 40 of us and we called ourselves "Power Surge".  Terry was a member of this group.   

For 25 years we have continued to be a close group of women.  We have shared sadness, successes, marriages, divorces, births of grandchildren and deaths.

Terry has always been a huge part of "PS".  Most if not all of us have met her in person, and we all knew her in our little group.

Terry shared her whole illness, diagnosis and decline with us.  With the pandemic it has been impossible for any of us to travel to help care for Terry.

And now she is gone.  This was on her Facebook page on August 23, 2021

" I'm deeply saddened to let everyone know that Terry passed away today, Monday August 23, at Lady Minto hospital on her beloved Salt Spring Island. She went peacefully and surrounded by people who loved her, with her husband Harvey and dear friends Dona and Meg at her side. "

Memories of Afghanistan

 Written August 7, 2002

>
> I lived in Afghanistan as a young child.  My father worked at the US Embassy
> in Kabul.  My mother loved it there.  Most of her Afghan friends escaped
> years ago.   Before her stroke, my mom and step dad used to go to fund
> raising events for Afghan refugees.  What a terribly dirt poor country
> Afghanistan has always been.   We were in Kabul when they put in the first
> traffic light.  The Afghans would stand watching, and wave at the cars to
> stop or go when the light changed.    When our servant's wife had twin
> babies, my mother found a doctor and took him into the mountain village to
> help only to find that the babies had died.  My father bought bikes for our
> servants and taught them how to ride them.   I started school in there and
> was a Brownie there.   My mom was a Cub Scout Leader for my brother's troop
> there.   My sister was a teenager and I remember the dances at our house
> with her friends.   We went skiing in the winter.  We swam in the summer at
> the International Club.  My mom played tennis and went horse back riding
> there.    My dad took pictures of the turbaned barber who used to come to
> the embassy and cut the men's'  hair right there.   My dad took so many
> pictures.  I recall the scent of the beautiful bearded irises in our yard
> and the rose bushes.   We had a big weeping willow tree in our yard.   One
> Christmas a friend (who was an Afghan prince) brought us a big, freshly cut
> fir tree to use as our Christmas tree.  He had strapped it to the roof of
> his car and drove in the night with his headlights off so he wouldn't get in
> trouble.   I am not sure what the laws were then, or what trouble he risked.
>  He wa
> s a friend.
>
> When I hear the names Kabul, Quandahar, Peshawar (Pakistan), I cannot
> believe that I have been on that soil.  I remember going to the open air
> market with my dad and buying pomegranates and naan –the flat bread that is
> baked in dirt ovens, and I remember my first taste of honeydew melon.  For a
> long time after we returned from Kabul all of my drawings had the high
> Himalayan mountains in the background.   The country was stark, but the
> mountains, I can remember, large, and beautiful and they were everywhere
> around us.

My brother Dale in Afghan clothes

Me in an Afghan dress

My sister, Carol, was in the Girl Scouts in Kabul