Utah Proms

Proms in Utah are very different than what I'm used to. Dexter is going to his prom tomorrow and I'm still trying to get a handle on the details. Apparently, the dance itself is not really the big event. These kids make their arrangements in groups. The "group" of 3 or 4 couples plan an entire day's worth of activities for prom. Dexter and his group will begin at 8 am tomorrow with some outdoor games like ultimate frisbee. At some point they are moving on to play board games on the roof of the high school (one of the guys in their group has a dad with keys to the school). The boys have plans too cook dinner at one of the guys' houses. The girls need a couple of hours to get ready and the boys will get ready and occupy their time watching videos until the girls are done. The prom itself starts at 8 pm and is held at the Provo Library ballroom. At 9 pm is the promenade (is that where the name prom came from?) which is the highlight of the evening. Parents, friends, alumni, etc. gather outside and each couple is anounced at the top of the stairs and then parades down the stairs for all to see. My guess is that this was the best way for people to show off their beautiful clothes and get the most for all the money they spent. After the promenade, it's back to dancing until about 11 pm. Dexter says the da full of activities is Utah County's substitute for renting hotel rooms like other kids around the country do. Where my prom was more about the dance and who was dating who, the proms here are more likely to have friends taking friends. One of my friends has a daughter who is going with a friend instead of her boyfriend.... Very different! I'm hoping to get pictures on here tomorrow of Dex. His tux for the prom cost more to rent than what he paid to buy his choir tux!!! He did get a bit of a discount since they forgot to send pants with hix tux and he will have to pick those up tomorrow. Right now he is at a friends house working on the corsage for his date. I heard sewing machines in the background and he said they weren't using flowers, so I don't know what to be prepared for. Last year the prom was on his birthday and he had no money (plus he was only a sophomore) so he didn't go. A vanful of his friends stopped by in their beautiful clothes to sing "Happy Birthday" to him. It was darling! To be continued...

So Sick

I've had a tough time these past few days. My biggest allergy is to cedar and it hit me hard this year. Unfortunately, the aftermath of a bad allergy year is that my sinuses stay messed up and I end up with a sinus infection. I didn't see it coming and it took me down pretty hard. Don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly a wimp when it comes to getting sick. Most times I can just get some extra sleep and be done with it or at least tough it out in the meantime. There was no way to tough this one out and I remembered how nice it was when I was a kid and Mom was there to tuck us in, clean up the messes, and supply us with 7-up and chicken soup. I don't like being sick as a grown-up since nobody's there to baby me and everyone still wants me to take care of them. Husbands, kids, and dogs don't seem to understand that it's possible for moms to get sick. I felt bad about missing work since there are some projects I'm working on that nobody else can take care of in my absence. Now that I'm feeling better, I'll have to work harder not to get sick again.

Mourning

I attended a funeral today for the husband of one of my coworkers, MaryAnn Smith. MaryAnn was such a great person to talk to about what was going on with my dad. Her husband had a fatal illness that slowly took him out over a period of two years. He was in a coma for the last little bit. They had chosen hospice care since his disease was incurable. MaryAnn was a great source of strength for me when I struggled with how to feel about Dad's situation. She was relieved when her husband finally passed away since he had suffered so much. She also missed him, of course. While sitting at the funeral, I found myself very overcome with emotion as I listened to their children talk about their dad. He was only a year older than my dad and I found myself jealous of that family because they got to have a funeral. We all knew that a church funeral didn't really make sense for my dad and he had a thing against funerals because of traumatic family funerals had been for him. I still wished I could have given a talk on his life, what I learned from him, the funny stories, and my testimony of the gospel and how we can be a family forever. I'm hoping that I can have a meaningful experience when we get together to spread Dad's ashes. If anyone has an idea on when this might happen, please let me know. My schedule seems to book up fast.

Easter

I find Easter to be a curious holiday. Unlike Christmas, the religious and secular sides of the holiday don't seem to connect at all. As a child, I actually believed the Easter Bunny hid the eggs for us as we slept. In my teenage years, I was allowed to help the egg hiding effort. It's a wonder none of us ever got sick since we hid the eggs while the younger slept and they stayed there all night. Since Oregon weather usually includes rain, the egg hunts were done inside our living room. We had our traditional potato salad made with brightly colored eggs (after 8 hours at room temperature). My biggest Easter memories while growing up involve the chocolate we got in the Easter baskets - baskets of goodies were also hidden around the room. Kathy and I would sort the chocolate into different baskets and then pretend our dolls were shopkeepers selling the candy from their basket storefronts.

When I married Emerson, I was surprised to see that his entire family, regardless of age, participated in the Easter egg hunt. His grandma has been known to outhunt the children! There are no excuses in his family for skipping the egg hunt or the potato salad using those eggs. I found myself pondering this as I prepared for today. The boys are older and don't participate much. I wasn't really in the mood for coloring eggs and hiding them. Eugene, Emerson's brother, reminded me of the importance of keeping the tradition going. I found myself having a lot of fun coloring the eggs (I bought a camoflauge style dye kit) and hid the eggs in the living room instead of the back yard. The toughest part was waiting for Dwayne to get home from work so I could have the boys search for the eggs. I think the boys enjoyed the hunt and I know we all enjoyed the potato salad. I didn't feel guilty at all about having some despite my desire to lose weight.

Blogging

I've been really good about blogging for the Heart Challenge and have neglected posting much here. During the first three weeks of the challenge, I lost 7 pounds. I'm exercising like crazy and watching everything I eat. I've cut portion sizes and try to make better choices on what to eat. I went to see my doctor yesterday and she was shocked when I told her what my beginning assessment numbers were for this challenge. She said I was probably 3-4 weeks from becoming diabetic and if it weren't for all the exercise and change to my eating, I would have been on high blood pressure medication as well. Fortunately, my blood pressure has already come down some and I tested negative for the test they do for diabetes (AC1?). The doctor had me pretty scared and it became very real to me that my health had been in serious jeopardy and I didn't really realize it. I knew I was overweight and not as healthy, but didn't know how bad the numbers were until taking on this challenge. What a blessing that I got selected for this experience!

TAKING THE CHALLENGE

On February 13, I began participating in the 100-Day Heart Challenge. It is a 100-day competition sponsored by Utah Valley Regional Medical Center to see which woman in Utah County can make the most improvement in her heart health. There were 15 women from all parts of Utah County selected for this challenge out of over 100 applicants.
We are working highly skilled heart physicians and experts in exercise and nutrition. First, we were asked to attend a workshop on heart health offered by the hospital. Then, we had a bunch of tests to see what kind of shape we were in at the beginning. The same tests will be performed at the conclusion of the challenge to gauge the success and improvement of all the participants. The woman who improves the most will win a $500 Visa card and a one-year membership to the hospital's Wellness Center. We have weekly nutrition classes, consult with a dietician, and work with a personal trainer on a workout routine. I generally do one hour of cardio three times a week and strength training three times a week. The challenge ends May 29. We are supposed to be blogging about our experiences at http://www.utahadventurer.com/heartchallenge. They have it set up, but no instructions yet on how to log in, so there are no entries to look at right now. I'm pretty excited about this and have already lost 4 pounds in the first 2 weeks of the challenge.

What's in a name?

In talking to Holly tonight, I was reflecting on the origins of our names. Dad was named William after a long line of Williams in the George family. His middle name, Lea, was a family name on his dad's side of the family. Rick also has Lea as his middle name. Mom's name was a point of contention with her parents. Grandpa insisted on naming her Evelyn. Grandma finally relented saying, "Fine, we'll name her Evelyn, but we'll call her Gail." Dad originally wanted to name me Wenke (venka) Lisa after a little girl he met on his mission to Norway. Mom was sure that people would accidentally call me "Winky" so she vetoed it. They kept Lisa as my middle name, but they said they picked Karen just because it was a name they liked. Mom said Kathy's name was chosen because they liked the name and they chose her particular spelling (Kathryn) because they liked it better. Bill was named after Grandpa George. This happened before we discovered that Grandpa's name was Jesse William and not William Jesse (he was always called Bill). Grandma George also went by her middle name - something we didn't know until she went on her mission later in life. Rick got Dad's middle name. I never heard why they chose the name "Rick," but I once met one of Dad's best friends from high school and his name was Rick or Richard. Sharon was named after Dad's youngest sister who had died in a car accident when I was a baby. Her middle name, Laura comes from Grandma George's side of the family - Laura Zulieme Weakley. Emerson's dad's family has a tradition of naming kids with the initials EDT. Emerson was actually Emerson Daniel Tsosie, Jr. at birth, but later changed his last name to his mom's maiden name after his parents divorced. His siblings followed suit. Our kids have matching initials (but not EDT). Dwayne is named after Emerson's best friend, Duane Milford, who was killed by a drunk driver. We used a spelling we liked better. His middle name, Christopher, was chosen so he had a more common name to use if he didn't like his first name. When searching for names for Dexter, Emerson mentioned he wanted one that sounded athletic. I worked for a press clipping company at the time and saw the name Dexter a lot on the sports pages. Sounded good to me and it started with a "D." For the middle name, Emerson, his brother (Gene), and I were having dinner together one night and trying to come up with a name beginning with "C" that would go with Dexter. The result was Cornelius, after a guy Emerson played football with in high school. That guy went by "Corny." It took me a long time to not laugh when saying the name Cornelius, and Dwayne used to say it in the cutest messed-up way as a toddler. Dwayne has had to get used to people forever spelling his name wrong (Duane, Duwayne, Dewayne, etc.) and Dexter endured a lot of "Dexter's Laboratory" references. I always wanted a more exotic name and used to resent that Bill, Rick, and Kathy had a variety of options on what to do with their names. I have to admit that it was tough to let Billy and Ricky grow up and let go of the "y" at the ends of their names. Kathy has good stories to go with her kids' names, but she should be the one to tell...

In memorium

This isn't my favorite picture of my dad, but it shows my dad as he looked while I was growing up. William Lea George (Bill) passed away at 2:05 pm (Pacific Time) on February 10, 2009, in Bremerton, Washington. He passed away peacefully at the age of 62 after battling several chronic conditions.

Dad was a lover of the arts and was a very talented artist and pianist. He taught me to love opera, classical music, Impressionist art, photography, and everything beautiful in life. As a trombone player in high school, he played at Disneyland's grand re-opening and in the Tournament of Roses Parade in Pasadena. His art teacher, Mr. Crutcher, brought in great cartoonists like Walter Lantz, Walt Disney, and Charles Schulz to meet his students. Dad even played the caliope at Disneyland once with Mr. Disney's permission.

Dad was an avid reader and his eyes sparkled as he told of practically growin up in his local library. He was a history buff and knew all those little odd facts they don't teach you in school. School was a challenge because he found it boring, but he managed to graduate, partly because his love of art and history classes kept him going. He was such a perfectionist with his own art that he often destroyed it to get rid of the flaws. I once added a few brush strokes of my own to a painting he was doing of me and he considered it unacceptable when he couldn't fix the coloring because the oil paints just kept mixing more and more on the canvas. He finally painted over it and painted a seascape on top.

When Dad was on his big photography kick, he taught me a lot about taking pictures and I used to help him in the darkroom. We used to develop slide film and print color prints using Cibachrome processing. Once the print was in the developing tube, we would put the chemicals in and roll it back and forth on the floor for the required time since we couldn't afford the drum to turn the tube. Dad would take the film from the canister and load it into the developing container while standing in his bedroom closet so he could have complete darkness. The garage was our darkroom.

Mom used to tell me that she couldn't believe a guy as good looking as Dad could be interested in her. He met her at an LDS youth dance. While they were dating, he even rode his bicycle through Watts during the riots to go see her. He was from South Gate and she was from Los Angeles. Dad was pretty handy - something he probably learned from his own dad, but was scared of electricity. It seemed like electricity would just jump out and get him every chance it had. Even changing the channel on the TV led to him getting shocked. For that reason, even though Dad built on to our original house, Mom did all the wiring.

From everything I observed, Dad was not the least bit domestic. I know he had to do some chores growing up, but he wasn't much for doing them as an adult. I'm not sure how he handled things during his mission to Norway, but he relied on his mom before that and my mom after that to take care of him. He went through alcohol treatment when I was in high school and I remember traveling up to the treatment center to show him how to do laundry in the machines there. I found it very funny at the time. Even though Dad could cook, he generally didn't. He had some gourmet cookbooks he looked through and then he would show Mom which ones he wanted her to cook. Because of the complexity of the recipes, we rarely ate dinner before 9:30 or 10 pm. Dad did try to show off one time and make albondagas soup. Unfortunately, he didn't notice the glass measuring cup he was using held 2 cups and he ended up with double the water in the soup. He was pretty hurt by the mistake.

Dad's injuries - He broke his leg trying to fix the antenna on our roof. He slipped and started to roll and hit a vent/pipe of some sort in an effort to not knock Mom over (she was pregnant with Bill at the time). While he was working for the sawmill, he tried to push a railroad tie along the greenchain and had another railroad tie pop out from the saw and smash his hand between the two ties. He was carried to the end of the greenchain and he pulled his hand out in time to avoid being part of the lumber pile at the end. They had to cut off his watch (he was mad about that) and they originally tried to save his crushed fingers. The reattached them, but the fingers started to die and caused a lot of pain, so he ended up losing two fingers on his right hand. The other two fingers were also injured and limited their movement. While laid up with that hand injury, he managed to injure himself again. We used the fireplace for heat and we needed to cut some wood. Mom couldn't quite get the chainsaw started (she was pregnant at the time), so Dad came out to help. He had his injured hand elevated, put his foot on the chainsaw to keep it from moving, and then used his good hand to pull the cord. At some point, the chainsaw jumped up and bounced off of his good arm, cutting ligaments and tendons inside. Mom rushed him to the hospital. He had surgery and was told he may never be able to use several of his fingers again. Once recovered, he worked hard to get those fingers working. I watched tears roll down his face as he forced the fingers back and forth. He got almost his entire range of motion back! The irony after all this was that worker's comp sent him for retraining since he could no longer work at the mill - they sent him to typing classes!!! He spent his recovery with both hands up in the air and had to have Mom feed him.

When Dad was first out of high school, he worked at the Alpha Beta grocery store while attending community college. Scheduling conflicts ended the job and the attempt at college. For awhile, he worked at a boat-building company in California and built boats for Bob Denver (Gilligan) as well as others. He did some boat building in Oregon, starting his own company, Bluefin Marine. He built 15 ft. fiberglass dories. The wooden mold for the boats used to sit outside collecting water and mosquito larvae (Kathy and I thought they were sea monkeys). When he brought the mold into the garage to do the fiberglass boats, the house stunk like crazy from the resin. Our friend Madeline used to love it when we made cookies while Dad was working on boats. She thought the "fiberglass cookies" tasted great. I think he only made a couple of boats. Dad moved up to Oregon before the rest of us did, finding a job at a sawmill and living out of his car most of the time until we joined him at the house in Bandon. His work at the sawmill ended with his accident. After some time with no work, he worked delivering propane around the area. He even delivered propane to Nick Reynolds, formerly with The Kingston Trio. I believe the propane job ended due to layoffs and never held another job while he lived in Oregon. After moving to Seattle, he attended the Art Institute of Seattle and later worked for a company doing graphic art for souvenirs, shirts, etc. He eventually filed for and was placed on disability, ending his working days.

Dad raised canaries as a boy and he really liked dogs. We had several dogs over the years, but several of them got away or were stolen and the final one, Dirk, we gave away so he would have a more attentive family. We raised chickens for a few years and had a decent supply of eggs. Our attempt at raising rabbits didn't seem to go well. Kathy and I liked dressing up the little bunnies in doll clothes, but we had one mama rabbit that always killed her babies. Dad got fed up one day and we suddenly had rabbit stew for dinner. I once received a cat (from the local shelter) for my birthday. Silver ended up being a mean cat and scratched everyone. We also took in a stray cat named Smoky. Dad was working swing shifts at the time and Mom would leave a plate with his dinner on the table. We made sure to put the cats out, but somehow Silver always found a way back in. She pooped in the bathtub and ate his dinner. One night, Dad couldn't take it anymore and took Silver outside, tossed her in the air, and shot her. Smoky must have seen because he disappeared that night as well. I always thought the cats had run away until Uncle Bob came for a visit and Dad told the story... Dad loved having fish and we had a very elaborate fish tank in California (and I think for awhile in Oregon too). I was told I used to get in trouble for coloring the the aquarium glass.

Dad always seemed to have health struggles. He had rheumatic fever as a child, but never managed to catch chicken pox. He had his first heart bypass when he was in his 30s. Problems with angina and congenitally small blood vessels forced them to pull what they needed from his thigh. He battled intense headaches that must have been migraines. He had bipolar disorder and borderline personality disorder and struggled to comply with treatment for those. At one time, I remember he had a tackle box full of medications - for headaches, bipolar, angina, blood pressure, and who knows what else. His alcoholism started early in his life and led to many different problems with his relationships. He did try hard to kick it, going through at least three treatment programs during his life, but he could not overcome it. His motivation in going through the first program was the guilt he felt that Sharon, a pre-schooler at the time, was having to fend for herself since he was sleeping off his hangovers. Dad's smoking was so methodical that it was entertaining. He would be smoking one cigarette and have two more cigs out - one tucked behind each ear. If those were the last in the pack, he would make sure to open the new pack and get it set up so he wouldn't waste time when he needed a new one. I was silly enough a few times as a child to hid his cigarettes. We had one of those assemblies at school and I thought I was saving him. Instead, he sent Mom to the store for more cigarettes. I hid those too and was probably close to dying young when he found out. Until I moved away, I never realized how horrible we all must have smelled with smoke on our clothes.

Everyone (nearly) who met Dad seemed to be intrigued by him. He's a real charmer to talk to and has great stories to tell. I learned a lot from many of his stories even though Kathy and I worked hard to escape when he started lecturing. After his divorce, it seemed that Dad had trouble remember past events accurately. Since that time, I have realized that he probably was having a tough time determining reality in his past. Dad and I had several clashes over these differences in how he saw things. We butted heads even when I was young. Mom used to say it was because we were so much alike. Dad regularly threatened to send me away to a boarding school. Because of Dad's need for control, Kathy and I didn't have very many social opportunities. We only had one friend that was really allowed to come visit and it was hard to get permission to attend school sporting events and stuff. I didn't realize that I had missed out on learning certain social behaviors until I got married. I didn't know to invite people in, offer refreshments, make introductions, etc.

I know Dad adored his Nana and Grandad (from Austrailia) and we was somewhat traumatized by their passing. He was angry at the joyous way people approached funerals and felt hurt when they sang Nan's favorite song at the funeral. When his dad died, he wouldn't let us kids attend because he assumed we would be trumatized like he was.

I'll end this one here and probably add more memories later. There was a lot of good and gad in my dad, and I got to see them both. I think he just felt walled in and weighed down by his mistakes and could see no way out. It's good to look at all the sides of his life to understand how he ended up so alone and why he may have made the choices he did.

When medicine isn't enough

I haven't exactly kept it a secret from anyone that I suffer from Bipolar Disorder. It runs pretty heavily in our family. Formerly called manic-depression, bipolar disorder is a kind of chemical imbalance in the brain which leads to alternating states of depression and mania (euphoria, agitation, risk-taking). Like most other illnesses, it can be managed with medication. I have tried several different kinds of meds to find what works for me. The key is to stabilize the mood swings and take the edge off without hampering thinking, creativity, functioning, etc. Most people who meet me (even some who've known me for years) have no idea that I have this disorder.

Over the years, I have found that there are several components to handling an illness like mine.
1. Face up to the fact there is no cure - you have it and you must now deal with it!
2. I can't manage my life without the aid of medication. People with bipolar often talk themselves out of taking their pills - big mistake!
3. Being open about my illness helps me manage it. Friends and family are often the first to notice when I'm having problems and can help me.
4. Whatever I can't handle, I must trust God to help me with. He's not going to cure me or take my problems from me, but he can give me the strength to go on, the clarity I need for making decisions, and the peace I need so very much.

Right now I am on an emotional rollercoaster. Joy from finding my dad. Anguish from remember the past. Pity from seeing what my dad has become. Deep sorrow at seeing him suffer. Hope when he responds to having his children with him. Sadness when I hear that his condition is deteriorating. This is one of those times where the emotional overload is more than my medication can deal with and I must pray for extra strength. I survived going through this when my mom died, but this almost seems harder.

Trophy

While I was dealing with things in Washington last weekend, Dexter was competing in a debate tournament. He won and got this awesome trophy! He has really been enjoying his debate classes and events this year. Emerson's remembering back to when Squeak used to own the debate floor.