"Mr. Frank? Happy Memorial Day."

(The title is a quote from a musical. Points if you know which one!)

Unfortunately, I didn't get to do much for Memorial Day - I spent the very early morning hours throwing up and most of the day nibbling on saltine crackers and napping. But I have been thinking about some of the people who have passed away and whose graves I would like to visit today, if I could.

My Grandma Bushman was my father's grandmother, and she passed away when I was 13, I think. It was the first funeral I ever went to for someone I knew and was close to. She was over 90 years old when she passed away, and though it was sad to have her gone, I loved how much I got to know about her from the stories told at the funeral. When I think of her, I think of the Washington D.C. temple where she worked for a long time and of her fearlessly driving down the freeway at 70 mph when she could hardly see over the steering wheel.

My cousin Ian passed away when I was 16. He was only 13 and had lived with a heart/lungs condition all his life. It was not necessarily unexpected, but it was very sudden. When I think of Ian, I remember how he idolized Batman and how he loved to dress up as Batman with his oxygen tank in tow.

Grandpa Ed, my father's father, passed away during my first year of college. He had Parkinson's disease, and it was very hard to say goodbye. My sister and cousin and I got to sing "Homeward Bound" at the graveside service, and it has been a very special song ever since. I have so many memories of Grandpa Ed, of his paintings and his humor, trips to Monterey for his artist workshops, finding treats in his "magic cupboard," watching Santa's workshop in the snow. He always encouraged our talents, whether musical, artistic, or writing. It seems strange to me that Tim never met my Grandpa Ed, and I am so glad that we have some of his prints in our house.

Syd was my high school drama teacher, and she passed away very unexpectedly a year after I graduated from Orem High. It was so devastating to lose her -- she taught me everything I know about theater. She was able to extract from crazy high school students the most beautiful performances. She stretched us to be better in every rehearsal, and she cared about all of us. I count myself extremely lucky to have worked with her and learned from her for as long as I did.

I've written about Nigel before, but I especially remember him on Memorial Day. My tall, lanky cousin who was brave and honorable and absolutely dedicated to his dream of becoming a U.S. Marine. I am so proud of him, but I wish he was here so we could be proud of him in a different way.

I loved all of these people, and as I've been thinking about them today, the things I remember best are their passions -- for family history work, for Batman, for beauty and creativity, for theater and stories, for freedom. I hope that I can be remembered for the things I'm passionate about, and I hope I take away more than just memories from my time spent with them. I think in many ways that's what Memorial Day is about -- not only remembering those who have passed away, but recognizing how they touched our lives for good.

Word(s) of the Day, Part 4

For your enjoyment, here are a smattering of silly words from my daily emails:

pecksniffian \pek-SNIF-ee-uhn\, adjective:
Hypocritically and smugly affecting benevolence or high moral principles.

foofaraw \FOO-fuh-raw\, noun:
1. Excessive or flashy ornamentation or decoration.
2. A fuss over a matter of little importance.

prink \PRINGK\, transitive verb:
1. To dress up; to deck for show.

bumptious \BUMP-shuhs\, adjective:
Crudely, presumptuously, or loudly self-assertive.

bedaub \bih-DOB\, transitive verb:
1. To smudge over; to besmear or soil with anything thick and dirty.
2. To overdecorate; to ornament showily or excessively.

vociferate \voh-SIF-uh-reyt\, verb:
To speak or cry out loudly or noisily; shout; bawl.

futz \FUHTS\, verb:
1. To pass time in idleness (usually followed by around).
noun:
1. A fool; a simpleton.

corybantic \kawr-uh-BAN-tik\, adjective:
Frenzied; agitated; unrestrained.

prolix \pro-LIKS; PRO-liks\, adjective:
1. Extending to a great length; unnecessarily long; wordy.
2. Tending to speak or write at excessive length.

fanfaronade \fan-fair-uh-NAYD; -NOD\, noun:
1. Swaggering; empty boasting; blustering manner or behavior; ostentatious display.
2. Fanfare.

pusillanimous \pyoo-suh-LAN-uh-muhs\, adjective:
Lacking in courage and resolution; contemptibly fearful; cowardly.

gimcrack \JIM-krak\, noun:
1. A showy but useless or worthless object; a gewgaw.
adjective:
1. Tastelessly showy; cheap; gaudy.

What do we take from all this? Well, if nothing else, we've learned that there are a lot of really impressive sounding words for describing exactly how someone is being ridiculous.

What I am doing with my life one year after graduation

It's been a year since I was in Pittsburgh, proudly (and carefully) walking across the Chatham gym floor to shake hands with the President of the University and receive my diploma holder. One since I cheered for myself and my classmates, and got teary as my husband and parents cheered for me. One year since I saw my graduate school friends and professors, one year since I said goodbye (again) to my beautiful green campus and basked in the humidity of Pittsburgh.

It's been a good year since then. Very busy, but very good. I quit my job, got three new jobs, went on several road trips to Torrey and California, welcomed a new brother-in-law and two nieces, started paying back my student loan, got accepted for publication, and saw my name in print on the masthead of several magazines as a member of the Editorial Staff.

It seems like a lot in one year, and it was, but at the same time, I feel like I haven't made any progress as a writer. Except for work and this blog, I'm afraid I've been very remiss at keeping up with my writing habits and talents. Now that I'm on the brink of having only one job, I have been contemplating what to do with my extra time. I have so many things I'd like to do -- you know, like exercise every morning, practice the piano, do more sewing projects, clean my house -- but at this year milestone, I'm feeling like I should make writing a part of my days. It's something I don't want to lose. I have a creative writing blog that is sad and neglected, and I think I need to give it a little more attention.

My graduation last year was such a proud moment. A triumph, a celebration of everything I had been working towards. The accomplishment of something that was very hard, something that I chose to finish even when I could have excused myself with distance, marriage, and a full-time job. This sounds silly, but I want to make that shining moment proud. I want to follow through with the promise of that day. Otherwise, what was it, other than a piece of paper in a diploma holder?

I feel like I post semi-frequently about creativity, about how I need it or how I find it, or just about it in general. But for all my advocacy, I sure don't follow through very well. I feel the creative urges and I blog about them, and then I fall back into my usual patterns of not-enough-time and too-much-to-do. Good excuses, but not good reasons for neglecting this part of myself. Maybe this time will be different.

Halfway there

My intentions of posting about my trip to England four years ago ran away with the month of May (not sure what happened it to it), but today was the halfway point on the trip so I thought another post was in order. Besides, I really wanted to post some of these pictures...

















By this point in my trip, I had hiked to the top of the tallest peak in England, danced in the stone circle of Keswick, been sunburned hiking Helvelyn, wandered around Grasmere Lake, walked across the moors, been drenched at Warwick Castle, paid homage to Shakespeare's Stratford-upon-Avon, visited Oxford, written in Jane Austen's garden, and wondered at eternity on Tennyson Down. I had already experienced some of the most beautiful moments of my trip and I had started to form the questions that would drive my writing. Some of my deepest introspection was yet to come, but those wonderful first six weeks lay the groundwork for all the growth to come.

For all that I wish we were having more sunshine this month, the rain makes me feel like England isn't quite so far away, and the plethora of green that is going to come from all this water is really going to make me feel at home! Reliving my trip, even just periodically, makes me so grateful that I was able to go. Is it strange to be inspired by your own experiences? Because I absolutely am.

A good turn out

Saturday's yard sale was a ton of work (we're all still recovering, I think), but it ended up being pretty successful -- we raised over $400 for Padma! A huge thank you to my cousin Stacy and her family for letting us use their yard. We had more stuff to sale then we realized, and there was still a lot left at the end of the day, but we were very glad to clear out quite a bit. And we learned some valuable lessons:

1. No matter how early you set up, people will start coming before you are ready for them.

2. Don't count on the weather for anything. If it's cold and windy in the morning and you decide to change into long jeans, it will be 80 degrees in two hours, and then when you change back into shorts, it will rain.

3. Impending rain makes cleaning up a yard sale go really quickly.

4. If you decide to sell just the set of chairs that go with a kitchen table, inevitably you will get at least two people offering to buy the whole set five minutes later.

5. People say they will come back for stuff, but they don't always do that.

6. But sometimes they do. (And then they come back again.)

7. No matter how cheaply you are selling stuff, people will always ask for cheaper, even when it's a fundraiser.

8. When someone asks, "How much?" don't respond with a question. ("Uh, a dollar..?")

9. One person's junk is another person's treasure.

10. It's possible to actually make money off a yard sale even when most everything is $1 or less.

And some pictures:

Stuff


More stuff


And even more stuff (there was so much!)


Our Nepal prayer flag


Jazz hands in the shade


The whole group towards the end of the day


This is the photo we displayed of the children at the Padma house when Rachel was there. (Can you spot Rachel in this picture?)

Come one, come all!

If you live in the Orem/Provo area, or if you know someone who does, please help me spread the word that my family and I are having a fundraiser yard sale on Saturday (tomorrow), starting at 8 am at 682 West 400 South in Orem. It's going to be completely awesome! We have tons of clothes (especially kid clothes), shoes, accessories, furniture, household items, baby stuff, and treats that we would like you to eat, so when I say "Come one, come all," I mean it! Come!

My family and I are raising money to donate to the Padma organization, which is a group that supports the Optimistic Children and Youth Home of Nepal (OCAYHN). There are literally thousands of children who live and beg on the streets of Kathmandu in Nepal, who have absolutely nothing - no homes, no food, no future, which is why the work of Padma and OCAYHN is so amazing and so crucial. OCAYHN takes in children from off the streets and gives them a clean, safe place to live, healthy food to eat, tuition for schooling, and a family community. When you look at pictures of the children - children as young as two or three years old - living on the streets of Nepal and compare them to the pictures of the children living at OCAYHN, there aren't really words to describe the differences. In the first, you can see despair, pain, neglect, and starvation; in the second, you see hope, love, and happiness.

Last summer, my sister Rachel got to go to Nepal and do some volunteer work. (Check out her Nepal blog for more stories and information, listed on the right under Family Blogs.) Though she had to come home several weeks early because of an emergency appendectomy, she was able to spend some time with the girls (and one boy) at the home. When she came back and shared her experience with us, we were deeply touched and wanted to do something to help. Sometimes it seems like there are so many desperate people in the world who are in tragic situations that our small efforts can't really make a difference. But what we do can and does make a difference to Padma and a huge difference to these sixteen children in Nepal. It's not the whole world, but it's a start.

So please come tomorrow. Even more than enjoying the sunshine and finding some awesome stuff, it's an opportunity to help someone in need. You won't regret it. See you there!