the susie solution

Archive for January 2014

Finally getting a chance to finish up telling you about our Christmas. And this time, I have pictures!

If Christmas Eve was “O, Holy Night”, Christmas Day was definitely “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen”! This will definitely go down in our family history as one of the most zany and outrageously funny ones we have EVER had.

For a number of years now, our family has been trying to do things other than the traditional gift thing. Partly this arose from the fact that with this big a family, it gets awfully expensive, not to mention difficult, for everyone to get everyone something. Besides, and more importantly, buying stuff just for the sake of buying stuff – even to say “I love you” – when we already have MORE than enough stuff, seems pointless. So, for a few years, the kids did a round-robin exchange. Then they had each person do a donation in the giftee’s name and give the giftee some little something connected with that organization. Last year, we all pooled of our Christmas gift money and sent one big donation to an organization my brother is involved with. This year, Bethy suggested we do our own things about donations, and do a round-robin exchange of “I would if I could” gifts. That is, “If neither time, money, nor physics were an object, I would give you …..” A new car? A bigger house? A vacation in France? A trip to the moon? All the tea in China? The only limit would be our imaginations. If desired, you could also give a real gift related to the imaginary one, but the important thing was the imaginary one.

For some of us, it was an invitation. As Brooke put it when I announced that I would be texting each person with the name of their intended victim, er, recipient, “Let the shenanigans begin!” For a few, there was at first a “Huh? What on earth am I gonna give X?!?” reaction, but blank stares were quickly replaced by gleams in the eye, mischievous grins, and “Oh, boy, this is gonna be GOOD!” Those of us who knew something of what others were doing pitched in with extra ideas, helping to hone the projects to perfection. The results couldn’t have been more worth it!

Phil gave Bethy her dream house – big house, nice front porch, huge yard with gardens. All she has to do is assemble the 300 pieces of the jigsaw! Jillian gave Brooke a house, too, specifying a number of rooms, such as one JUST for her sewing, complete with a fashion runway. (Brooke is a fashion design grad.) It also came with a huge kitchen for her to play in and all kinds of equipment for cake decorating – starting with the set included in the package.

Bethy gave me three letters. The first is dated 12/20/2014, from writing agent Walter Wordsmith, telling me how blown away he was by the manuscript my daughter submitted for me of my first book, Raising Five Kids with Five Brain Cells, congratulating me for being on the New York Times best-seller list for 15 weeks, and suggesting two more books. The second letter, 2/21/2015, from Spurilious Publishers editor Douglas Inktopolous, confirms the contract for the second and third books, and says he hopes to see the draft for the second – Where Are My Kids and Who Are These Teenagers? – by Christmas. The third letter is from film director Frank Philographer letting me know how the filming of the story based on my third bestseller, Rockin’ & Rollin’ On the Front Porch Swing, is going. I get a cameo appearance, of course, and “(after reviewing the 217 photos your husband submitted) the casting call for child actors for that scene was quietly dropped since your actual grandchildren are clearly cuter.”

To Darien, the fitness buff getting a degree in kinesiology so he can be a personal trainer, Brooke gave the gym of his dreams, and suggested services such as a wind tunnel for sky-diving training, indoor rapids racing, a 5 story climbing wall, shark tank swimming lessons, rabid wolverine wrestling, Temple of Doom Endurance obstacle course, and King David’s Mighty Men certification. Bonus gift: 5 year exclusive contract with Brooke’s imaginary clothing company to produce all his “gym swag needs.” Along with this certificate came the T-shirt Brooke made, as seen in the photo.DSC_0433

Cherry gave her dad some coffees from around the world, and a note that said, “If money were no object, I would pay for you to spend a year travelling the world, taking pictures and tasting exotic coffee.” The funny part, though, was that the first time she printed the note up, she used a fancy font that looked very dignified an official-like….. Reading it, however, she realized that the “x” looked almost identical to the “r”, which gave “exotic” a rather unfortunate appearance!

My brother, Tim, a physics prof at Azusa Pacific, was up from SoCal to see our mom. He is a wonderful guy, witty, thoughtful, tender-hearted….. and as disorganized as you will ever find. He is chronically behind on grading tests and papers, his office shelves look like an office supply store exploded, and I don’t know if he even remembers what color the carpet is under all the files, books, and other detritus thereon. So, we gave him a new app – the “iDO”. When he needs something done, he just has to say, “Who wants to …?” and “iDO!” Jillian designed the button for it with many helpful suggestions for the app to do, such as “schnorfle the snickerbokers” and “unfrazzle my frumpkis”. 1-Tim iDO app

Jillian is a major Dr. Who fan. (If you’re not, you probably won’t get this.) So I gave her a little computer monitor bobblehead of the Tardis, a DVD of the 50th anniversary episode, and a note with a picture of David Tennant (her favorite doctor) that said, “Come fly with me! You have been chosen as the Doctor’s new companion to defeat the Daleks, outwit the weeping angels, and have many adventures with that wibbly wobbly timey wimey…. Oh, you’re back already! Hope you had a good time!” DSC_0451

To nephew, John, who is part of a medieval knights re-enactment troupe, went participation in a full re-enactment of Henry V’s Battle of Agincourt –with a little set of knights and castles Legos to practice with. Tim’s wife, Beth, whose daughter and family moved to Oklahoma this year, bringing on an acute case of grandchild-withdrawal-syndrome, got a Star Trek transporter.

Darien gave Nathan a huge workshop in which to create interesting and/or destructive electronic toys. So what’s with the slice of pickle, you ask? That’s a loooooooong-standing family joke. When I was in high school, my brother Corey gave me a bookbark that was all green and on the top corner looked like it had a bite taken out of it. The bookmark read, “This isn’t a bookmark. It’s a flat pickle.” So, every Christmas, at various times, someone will make a joke about some package being a flat pickle. Darien just figured it was about time someone DID get a flat pickle! 082-Christmas 082

The two most elaborate gifts were put together by the two family members who I think any of us least expected it from. Nathan gave Cherry a trip around the world. That is, he wrote out THREE PAGES of an itinerary. It detailed where she’d go. It detailed how she’d travel – for instance, by elephant from Thailand to Australia. It detailed the kinds of things she would buy where, and came complete with homing drones to carry all of her purchases home so she wouldn’t have to worry about shipping. The description was filled with bits such as “Run out of money? Just print more. (Hey, it works for the government!)” In the very first paragraph, she was instructed to bring with her a bag of marshmellows, and throughout the trip, there would be a reminder about that bag of marshmellows. At the end, she finds out that that day is the pilot’s birthday, and, luckily, she has a birthday present on hand for him: a bag of marshmellows!

To Phil, Rob gave a Seahawks Superbowl package for him and three friends. (Yes, they ARE going to the Sueprbowl. The Seahawks, that is, not Phil and friends.) The package included flying to New York in Paul Allen’s private jet; staying in the same hotel as the team; having a team Visa card to use for all expenses; being in on all the practices, film reviews, coaching meetings, etc.; being in the locker room before the game and running out the tunnel with the team, carrying the 12th man flag; getting to sit in … all the various places in the stadium where they have coaches and spotters and whatever, as well as in the VIP booth. And when the guys return home, Phil will be greeted by Brooke and the girls who will just have gotten home from a trip to any spa of their choosing in the world! This was all detailed in about FOUR pages of description, complete with photos of all the relevant people named. And it came with a Seahawks lanyard to carry his VIP pass on. DSC_0467

Yep, this Christmas is going to be awfully HARD to top!!

When I think of Christmases growing up, I think of a lot of FUN. And quite often, my mom was at the bottom of it. She always found the coolest, funniest, most intriguing little things to put in our stockings. There was the Christmas of The Wind-Up Cars. She found these tiny little funny wind-up cars that went Zip!, and we each got one in our stocking. I’m not sure who started it, but that whole holiday, I remember that every meal was accompanied by cars zipping across the table hither and yon, crashing into glasses and plates or launching off the edge. Her creativity in wrapping was amazing; every package was a work of art. I remember one package like a scene around a little silvery foil lake, with cotton snow, cut-out pine trees, and paper-clip ice-skates for the skaters. Mama loved secrets, and hiding things, and the fun of the discovery – though she did occasionally hide things too well. Until maybe my teens, there seemed to be a tradition that she always forgot one of my presents somewhere. One of my siblings would ask what I thought of my new thus-and-so, I’d looked puzzled, and they’d holler, “Mama! You forgot the –!” And Mama would stand trying to think just where she’d put that…. She always did remember. Sooner or later.

I could go on for pages with funny memories from those Christmases long past, but I won’t. The point is that Mama and Christmas fun are entwined in my memories of childhood, so how incomparably fitting it is that this, the last Christmas where she will be present, should have so much fun in it?

Now to start working on ideas to do for NEXT Christmas! Mama won’t be there – but her spirit of fun and legacy of laughter sure will!

The manner of my parents’ dying is a study in contrasts. My dad died of an instant, massive heart attack, totally unexpected and unheralded. He was gone in the blink of an eye. Losing him that way had its blessings. Alzheimers claimed his older brother, and is now claiming his younger; it is highly likely that Daddy, had he lived longer, would also have had it. There was no lingering and suffering. Though the grief was sharp – heart- and mind-numbing- the worst of it was packed into those first few months. Losing him like that also had its own difficulties. I regretted that there was no chance to ask all the questions about his past that I had been only lately wondering about, such as his experiences flying medevac flights in the Philippines during WWII. The hardest thing for me to deal with was that we didn’t get to say goodbye. We didn’t know the “lasts” were, in fact, the lasts. We didn’t know we had spent our last Christmas, last Thanksgiving, last visits. There were no special last memories made.

With my mother dying as she is, we WILL have to watch her suffer. It won’t be for a period of years, as we went through with my dh’s parents, but it will be more than long enough! (Google “dying from lung cancer” and you can find descriptions of what she faces.) By the time she dies, we will long to see her free from the ravages of this disease. Our grief has already begun, coming in fits and starts, and I expect we will have done most of our grieving by the time she is finally released.
But it is a blessing is that we have the chance to ask the questions. We have the opportunity to treasure the “lasts” that we are given. We have opportunities to make special memories that will last us all our lives, to savor moments so that we may fix them in our minds.

So let me tell you of our Christmas to Remember.

From the Friday before Christmas till the morning of New Year’s Day, I had from at least 4 to as many as 15 extra people here every day. All five of our children were here, two with a spouse and 2 granddaughters each. (The first Christmas with all the adult kids for about 3 years, and all 5 together only twice for a few hours in the intervening years.) Also here were my oldest brother, wife, and 2 grown sons, who I only see every few years. The day after Christmas, our oldest son and his family left to visit HER folks, and my youngest older brother, wife, daughter, and their foster baby took their places at the table. (All of which is why I’m not writing about any of this until now!) My kids would have been here, anyway, but my brothers came as a special visit to see Mama.
Mama is no longer able to attend church services. (She had no idea that the Sunday before Thanksgiving would be her last!) So we decided to do a candlelight Christmas Eve service at her house, early enough in the evening for those with little ones to participate. In the dark and hush, the 4 and 2 yo great-granddaughters played well with the Granma’s house toys that the two girls who live here know well. The 7 mo spent the first half-hour or so sitting quietly in Granma’s lap, exceptional for a wiggle worm like Fiona. After a prayer, we began our first carol. As we started on the second verse, I nearly broke down. All my life I have associated Mama and music. She loves to sing, and there are several hymns that always make me think of her because she used to sing them as she did housework. As we were singing that carol, I was suddenly struck by the fact that her voice was missing. The breathing required for singing is too much for her now. I realized I will never hear my mother’s lovely voice lifted in song again.
By the end of the second verse, I had recovered and was able to sing again. Various ones of us chose carols to sing. When our kids were young at home, we sang carols – ALL the verses – throughout the Advent season, so although some were a bit rusty, we made it through all of them. In between songs, we read the story from Luke. I had Bethy read Granma’s favorite reading, a piece written as from Mary to the apostle John, talking about not just Jesus’ birth, but His whole life, through His death and resurrection. Several others shared special things they had been thinking about. Most touching of all was our son, Darien. (This is the one whose teen years we refer to as the Hell Years. Now nearing 25, we are closer than ever, and we have seen amazing growth in his relationship with the Lord.) He has been listening to one of his favorite punk Christian bands and their cover of the old, old hymn, “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing”, and some lines in it had hit him in a profound way. He read them to us. “Jesus sought me when a stranger, wandering from the fold of God. He, to rescue me from danger, interposed His precious blood. How His kindness yet pursues me! Mortal tongue can never tell. Clothed in flesh till death shall loose me, I cannot proclaim it well.” He was crying as he read it, and afterwards spoke of the personal meaning of those lines, and his growing awareness that we will never be able to fully express the wonder of God’s grace until we reach heaven. Of all my children, to hear THIS son speak so! What a blessing! The evening continued with song as we asked Mama for suggestions, and we finally ended with prayer. It was one of the most profound, most moving, most holy times I can ever remember with my family. What a memory to carry with us!!

During the week, each of my kids who live far away spent special one-on-one time with their Granma, and my brothers and their wives spent many hours over all the days of their visits sitting and talking with her. We got some great pictures. My brother’s family, Cherry and I also did a Sunday morning service and hymn-sing, another special time together. My mom’s voice couldn’t be raised, but she whispered those beloved words with radiant face.

Each of us had our times of tears, thinking of the Christmases to come where she will be celebrating with the One Whose birth the angels heralded rather than with us. For the out-of town visitors, it was oh, so hard to put a final end to their conversation and say goodbye, not knowing if they will have another visit – or if, by the time they visit, our mother will be on the threshold of heaven. We are all starkly aware of the impending separation. But what a gift to be able to celebrate just once more while she is still here! What a joy to experience just a small foretaste of the joy we will enjoy together for eternity!


To most people, a solution is the answer to a problem. To a chemist, a solution is something that's all mixed up. Good thing God's a chemist, because I'm definitely a solution!

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