A life lost

Monday I made the trip to my Dad's grave site. I hadn't visited his grave since moving back to Utah. I have no excuses. I just didn't want to go. I made the decision that this Memorial Day I would go and pay my respects. I stopped off at the grocery store and purchased some simple pink roses. I don't know why pink roses, but I was just drawn to them. I got back into my car and started feeling a little nervous, like I was meeting him for the first time. The grounds were packed with people, tons of people, and I was alone. It felt strange to be there alone, but I think I wanted to be there by myself, to reflect.
I had only been to his site once before (in 2003), but felt certain that I would be able to find it. After about 20 minutes of wandering around in the wrong spot, I looked up and saw a lone birch tree. Something told me that was where he was. I made my way across the road, wandered a bit, and almost walking over the top of it, found his headstone. A simple granite stone that was provided by the VA. It read: (stuff removed for security)

XXXXXX Christensen
Born xxxx 1946 Died xxxx 2002
xxx US Army
Vietnam

That was it. No "loving husband, father, brother, and son" inscribed. Nothing. I began to cry. I don't know why, and believe me, I didn't want to, but I just felt so sad. Here is the man who helped give me life. I am a part of him, he is a part of me, and I know nothing about him. I have memories of the few moments in my life we were together. I have a few photos of when I was very young, of him holding me, but I still don't know who this man was.
US Army, Vietnam. There has to be more of his story than that. He lived for 56 years. What were his hopes and dreams? What did he aspire to want to be in his life? Did he miss me? Did he love me? Did he wish he could have been my father?
I know the war messed him up. My mom said he used to wake up in the middle of the night screaming, and you couldn't touch his feet while he slept because he would attack you for stealing his boots. My mom leaving him and taking me away when I was only 2 also messed him up. He seemed so lost and confused. He was unable to do much of anything to take care of himself. I will never know the true cost of Vietnam to his spirit, but I think it was a high price.

What I do remember is that he loved to drive his big, black, Cadillac. After he was awarded visitation, he would come to my new house every other Saturday. We would leave in that Cadillac, and I would sit on the arm rest in between the seats (it was the 70s), he would take me to do fun things, like play at the arcade, or visit with my very large Christensen family. He bought me stuffed animals and pretty jewelry. I remember looking forward to our weekend visits, and then one day they stopped. He was gone, again. At the age of 8, my father was legally removed from my life. My mom said it was because he wasn't paying child support, and was a bad influence on my life. To this day, I still get angry at her for this. In fact, when I was in my early 20s, I legally removed my step-dad's last name, and added Christensen again. Maybe it was just my way of claiming myself, of who I was, and renewing ties with my heritage again. The one thing I knew about my father, was that he enjoyed me, he enjoyed spending time with me, even if it was only one day every two weeks.

I remember the day I got the call that he had passed away. I had just gotten home from work, and there was a message on my answering machine from a cousin telling me that my father had died. He was in poor health (years of bad diet and smoking) and had taken his dog to Sugarhouse park for a walk. However, due to his poor health, he was unable to actually walk his dog. Instead, he would drive his truck while walking the dog outside the vehicle. While at the park, he apparently had a massive heart attack and crashed into a light poll. He did not die at that time, but was taken to the Veterans hospital, where the doctors apparently could do nothing to save his life. He died there, alone. When I am at Sugarhouse park, I sometimes wonder what was going through is mind, what his final thoughts were. My hope is that somehow he made peace with himself and with this world.

I enclosed a video of a song that I distinctly remember playing on the radio in his big, black Cadillac one summer afternoon when I was about 7 years old. I remember him playing this song very loudly and we sang it together. I listen to the lyrics now and wonder if this was the way he viewed himself and his life.

Rest in peace, Dad.

Memorial Day

Today is a day of remembrance for those who have died in our nation's service. It is a day to remember those who have sacrificed the most to give us these freedoms we so often take for granted. Recently the Ombudsman of my husband's unit sent out a letter with a few ways we can all help the troops and their families. I thought I would share a couple here.

1) Donate frequent flier miles to Operation Hero Miles for soldiers and sailors on leave and in the hospital. Visit: www.heromiles.org for details.

2) Foster a military pet while their extended family is deployed. Visit www.netpets.org & www.operationnoblefoster.org for more information.

3) Gift from the Homefront is a program where anyone can log in to the AAFES website and purchase gift certificates for our military personnel. These can be as low as $5.00 and addressed to "any service member" around the world. To send a gift, visit the website at www.aafes.com or call 1-877-770-4438.

4) Gift the gift of talk by purchasing phone cards for our troops. Operation Phone Home will send free calling cards with your donation. Visit www.uso.org.

5) A $25.00 donation will sponsor a care package that includes entertainment items, toiletries, disposable cameras, snacks, sunscreen, world-wide calling cards, and other items requested by the troops. You can include a message of support and encouragement. Visit www.usocares.org to help.

6)Send a written message of support to our service members by visiting : www.operationdearabby.net


No matter your opinion of the war, the support for our men and women serving in Iraq and in other areas around the world is crucial to their morale and well being. Put out your flag, and if you get a chance to say "Thanks" to a vet today or at anytime, please do so. It will be much appreciated.

There and back again

Okay, so I didn't encounter any elves or trolls, but it was an adventure in my book. I got back last night from my birthday backpacking trip. It was as I had hoped, full of challenges, learning curves, and inspirational beauty. Although I had intended on going to Hackberry Canyon, I later reconsidered it due to water scarcity. I knew whatever I did would be a challenge in and of itself, and the last thing I needed was to worry about finding water. I decided on the La Verkin Trail in Kolob Canyon (part of Zion National Park). When all was said and done we covered the La Verkin Creek, Willis Creek, Kolob Arch Trails, and Beartrap Canyon. All in all, we hiked about 23+ miles of backbreaking, thigh burning, amazing beauty.
I started out as all optimistic nature lovers do, fearless and completely confident in my abilities. That lasted for about 4 miles.



When we arrived at the Visitors Center, we realized that we were competing with others for the last remaining camp spots for Memorial Weekend. We were given the last camp spot on the trail, 10 miles into the park. It was almost 2:00p.m. and we felt we had enough daylight to make it. Plus the trail starts at the highest point and works down to the canyon, about 800 feet. No big deal, right? Wrong! At the beginning of the hike, a sign is posted showing a map and distances, etc..., but then I saw a word that I hadn't expected, "Strenuous." I could have sworn that the stuff I had read at home said moderate, but it didn't matter, I wasn't about to let a little sweat get in the way of my birthday trip.




The first few miles were deceptive. It was beautiful scenery, virtually all down hill with unbelievable shades of red, green, and blue. I found myself repeatedly taking 5 minutes breaks to take photos. This was the beginning of our problems. We made it down to the water, and found that it was almost 6:00p.m., and we had only gone 4 miles! This was not good. So I put on my "ass-kicking" face, and went full force towards our spot. I set the pace. Even my husband was impressed at my speed, full pack and all, but then we hit sand, deep sand. It was like watching a toy run out of battery power. It kicked our butts. The sun was starting to set over the canyon wall, and we both hit our collective panic button. We passed campsites one after the other, some with miles in between. Occasionally, we would unknowingly skip a campsite and come across the following one. For a moment, it felt like we had gotten away with something, until we realized we still had about 7 more campsites to go.
Larry got out the compass and topo to see just how much further we needed to go. The sun had set, we were missing the trail, going back and forth over water, and we still had 2 km to go. I was dead. My legs were beat. To add more punishment, the Willis trail was not marked as well due to the scrambling required (up steep hills, over boulders, etc...). It only got worse as the night progressed. I actually started crying. I kept going, and didn't give up, but I was actually crying from being in so much pain. My pain had to go somewhere. At one point my husband actually strapped my pack onto his front. I think they once wrote a song about him....called him Camouflage.



A few times we thought about just stopping along the water and setting up camp, but as soon as we would find a nice flat area, we found the ant hills and the millions of ants that lived in them. Finally, at about 9:30p.m. we found our spot and sat up our tent. All I wanted to do was wash my face off, take out my contacts, brush my teeth, and hit the bag. I began to dig around in my pack, and quickly realized that all of our bathroom stuff (outside of toilet paper) was back at home on the bathroom counter. Oh my God! Could this day get any worse! We were both too tired to begin blaming each other. I guess I would have to get dirty and stinky, Marine style. My only concern was having nothing to clean my contacts with, nor any glasses to see with if something happened to my contacts. I managed with some water, and a very gentle rubbing in between my fingers. It was tenuous, but they made it. I will say that this was the first time, since my first tooth was cut, that I didn't brush my teeth. It was absolutely disgusting.
That night, I just laid in the tent looking up at the moon, feeling every little muscle and joint scream in pain, and oh, did I mention that we hadn't eaten anything since 1:00 p.m.? Tummy was aching as well. Even my ribcage hurt from all the lung expansion. I quickly realized that if I want to do this as much as I think I do, I am going to have to get in better shape.



The next days were much better. We did smaller, more manageable hikes, about 5-6 miles a day. I even had a nice birthday dinner:



On the menu was Spaghetti and Meat Sauce, Green Beans, Mashed potatoes with garlic and herbs, a glass of Merlot, and for desert...Blueberry cheesecake! It was actually all very good, and after working so hard, it tasted extra, extra good!

As we made our way back up on the last day, I realized that I had come up that canyon a different person that the one who went down. Humility, perseverance, and having confidence in myself to see it through were learned, and learned quickly. I also found the 3 things I will never go without on my next hikes; walking sticks (they became a second pair of legs when mine could no longer get over the large rocks), a water bladder built into the pack (makes it much easier to stay hydrated), and a good pair of shoes (it is absolute pain when your shoes don't fit properly).

Overall, I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend my 35th birthday. It was an amazing adventure, and if someone asked me to pack up and go again today, I wouldn't hesitate a big "let's go!"

Getting older.....and better

Yesterday Larry and I made our way to REI to get the supplies we need for our back country trip this week.
This is my birthday trip as my birthday is Friday. I guess one could say that this is a "big one," turning 35 and entering into the realm of my mid to late 30's. By the end of the week, I will have entered into a different demographic. No longer will I be a member of the 18-34 group. Now I'm with the "old" folks that prefer to watch "Dateline" over "Family Guy," and chose to spend money on patio furniture rather than a video game or go to the movies. Strange... I don't feel any different that I did yesterday, a year ago, or 5 years ago.

I have been spending some time reflecting on what it means to me to be this age, to be getting older. I have to be honest and say "not much." I guess when I look at myself I see someone that is aging somewhat, at least physically. I have a few lines around my eyes that occasionally stick around if I don't get enough sleep. There are also some strange dents in between my eyebrows that appear when I am cross, and won't leave. I was recently confronted with 3 very coarse silver hairs that were sticking straight out of the top of my head. They were immediately removed. After careful examinations of those hairs, I thought to myself, "well at least I will finally get to have that thick hair I have always wanted."
For me, I just don't feel old. I don't feel any different than I did at 20, 25 or 30. I'm still learning a lot, and the more I learn, the more I realize I still have to learn. I don't want to stop learning. I think for me, that would be certain death to my spirit. I don't want all the answers served up to me on a platter, nor do I want to find that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I think the curiosity inside of me is what makes me unique and different.

I was recently told that I am a late bloomer. I don't know what was meant by saying it, but I found it odd that because at 35 I am still searching, learning, and find the world mysterious and fascinating I am considered to be "late." Late to what? Is there some sort of prearranged time line that I am unaware of? All I know is that I am here now and that I will die...someday. I can't really afford to waste time worrying about wrinkles or whether I will ever fit into my size 6 jeans again. Whether I have the "right" house, the "right" size saving account, or the most "successful" career. I have living to do. I guess that is why I chose to go backpacking this year. I love the challenge, both physically and mentally. I love the freedom, and the short term survival skill one learns along the way. I like feeling alive and my spirit feeling full.

Maybe that is something that I can truly celebrate this year. Not just another year older, not just another year closer to death or retirement, but one more year of me, of my life and living. One more year of experiences and lessons learned. My hope is for more years to continue, marked by "Happy Birthdays", so that I can look back on birthdays like this one and think to myself "you did good girl."

I go forth to make new demands on life. I wish to begin the summer well; to do something in it worthy of it and me; to transcend my daily routine and that of my townsmen....I pray that the life of this spring and summer may ever lie fair in my memory. May I dare as I have never done! May I persevere as I have never done!
- Henry David Thoreau

Georgia on my mind

Just got back from a short trip to Georgia. Newnan to be exact. It is a former small town that is starting to become a suburb or exurb of Atlanta's south end. I went visit with my girlfriend, Jody, and her family. This being at least my third attempt this year, and I finally made it. It seems to have been forever since we had spent anytime together, and after late night discussions on the "old" days, we realized that it had been. We have known each other since our early 20's. We met through our husbands (her boyfriend at the time), who were in the same squadron. Our time together was always so much fun, and it was great getting to rehash over old stories and laughing over my quirks that are lovingly called "Bindyisms."
Marriage, career changes, relocations, and a kid have happened in the past 10 years, but somehow through it all we stay connected, stay friends. She is the last remaining friend of those old days that I still manage to keep in touch with. No matter the changes in our lives, we still keep in touch. I have to give her the credit, and for that I have to say "Thanks Jody." Now she wants me to move to Newnan and start running marathons with her! Newnan.....that might happen, but only because my husband can't get based here in Salt Lake. Marathons...well... small steps Jody, very small steps. Love ya!

Jody and downtown Newnan


Children art at Serenbe


Future rock-star

So few words, so much controversy

Well, this last weekend I have been lambasted with emails regarding my "about me" section of my blog. Apparently, my statements have ticked off some folks. I thought I would take a moment and try to weed out the misconceptions regarding my statements:

First, I do love living in Utah. It does possess some challenges however. Most of those challenges may not be easily seen by those who live in the state and/or are a member of the predominant faith. I will give you a 99% guarantee that when I speak to people from outside Utah they will always ask, "so are you Mormon?" My statement of "No, I am not Mormon" is a pre-response to the always constant question from those folks. It does become a rather tiresome question. My statement was a way for me to say "Hey I love living in Utah, and.....I'm not Mormon!" Most people believe that only Mormons live here, and that they would be the only people that would want to live here. I, not of the Mormon religion, wanted people to see that isn't the case.

Second, boy did this tick some folks off. My sister wives statement. Again, this is a statement regarding assumption and jokes that are made about Utah and people who live here. Polygamy is a part of the Mormon church's past, and still sticks around like a thorn in the side of the church through the actions of the FLDS and other polygamous groups that claim Joseph Smith as their prophet. It is a delicate subject. However, one does tire of the jokes to my husband about how he gets "it" every night by all his different wives, wink wink. It is an unfortunate aspect of the church's history, but I think it would be extremely naive of people of the faith to think that it should be shoved under the rug and forgotten about. There are people out there that truly do believe that everyone in Utah is polygamous. Believe me, I have met them.

The drinking a beer statement. Yes, even though most members do not imbibe, those of us that choose to, do and can. There is a misconception that you can't get a drink in this town. Not true. I am no lush, but occasionally on a hot summer evening, a nice cold beer tastes pretty darn good. And surprise, you can get a great beer here that was made locally! Enough said.

Finally, my statements were not religious in nature. They were not meant to be offensive to anyone. They were "about me!" I love living in Utah, No I am not Mormon and have no sister wives, yes I like to have an occasional beer. I was answering the very common questions to the outsider that may not understand why one, who is not Mormon, would live here. That is all. The unfortunate aspect of it is that one cannot make a comment about the culture here without making a comment about the religion. The two are so intertwined that it is impossible to separate them. That can become a problem when your culture (my culture) does not mesh with the Mormon faith. I am truly an open person, and believe a person has the right to pursue their faith as they see fit. I would be the last person who would tell someone what to think or believe.

In response to the overwhelming criticism, I will remove my statements. They are just words to me, but it has become obvious that they mean much more to others.

Name this look....

Can we please kill the "panty hanging out of the pants that are too small" look! And what in the world is going on here? I am thinking she put her leg in the wrong hole.

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day to all the Mom's out there. And an especially big Happy Mother's Day (with a big hug) to my own Mom, Mother-in-law, Sister-in-law, and Mom friends.

The Home stretch

After I wrote my last post, I went out to the mailbox and got the mail. There it was, my acceptance letter. Now I have to figure out if I can still register for classes, if there is still space for me.

Yesterday I planted tree's 13 and 14. I cannot believe how many trees I now have. Not only that, but I have no idea how any of the previous owners could have enjoyed being outside without any shade. We do have 3 very large Maples, but they are at the edges of the property and provide no shade to the areas around the house. I have been a tree planting nut. The crappy part is that they won't really be at shade giving size for another couple of years. We have planted 2 Aspen (which is my favorite tree), 3 river birch, 3 Bradford pear, 2 October blaze maples (those should be pretty in the fall), a Japanese maple, a peach tree, a king crimson maple, and a golden chain, which offers sweet smelling yellow flowers in the spring. Fortunately, I do have the property for all these trees, and outside of the Maples, they will stay within a 15 feet width, so I think I am safe for space.

I am thinking that we are into the final stretch with this project, otherwise known as our home. When I decided on this house 3 years ago, it wasn't my first choice, it was more like 5th or 6th on the list. The first 3 houses I lost due to an incompetent realtor who didn't act as quickly as I needed him to bid on houses. One weekend I found a house that I really liked and it was for sale under market value. I went directly to the owner only to find that they already had 3 bids on it. Later my realtor yelled at me for going around him. To make a long story short...his ass was fired. I found another realtor who took us seriously, and was willing to put in the time to check houses even though we were in Florida. One day after looking on the MLS, I came across an amazing little Tudor in a great area. Our bid was accepted, and we had a contract. I was so excited. Then the results from the inspection came in. Problems, big problems. It had been remodeled, but it was all facade, none of the guts of the house had been touched. It had 4 layers of asphalt shingles in addition to the original layer of cedar shingles. It was amazing that the roof hadn't started to collapse on itself. We asked the owner to replace it or give us credit for a new roof. He said we were exaggerating. Hummmm. It made us wonder what else is this guy was hiding? We got out of the contract. I was very disappointed. I had started looking at the burbs, just for something to land in, but nothing really grabbed me at the time. That, and I really didn't want to end up in the same neighborhoods I had left. I didn't really want to "come home" as much as I wanted to come back to Utah.

Then this house showed up. Pretty good location, nice house, needed some updating, great trees (hahaha), and for about $70,000 less than the last house. Sounded good. Then the nightmare began. Yes, this house passed inspection, but the updating part is the part that got us into trouble. Since we bought this little pain in the butt that I am starting to warm up to, we gutted the basement adding 2 bedrooms and a bathroom, updated the upstairs, new kitchen, new flooring, new windows, a new front porch, tore out the old rickety 1 car garage and driveway and built a new 2 car garage with workshop (for moi), all new landscaping, and a new sprinkler system. I am sure I left something out, but that pretty much covers it. It has been 3 years of almost hell, and now I am finally seeing an end to the pain. We didn't hire contractors, we did the vast majority of the work ourselves. And I hope to never see a caulk gun or a paint brush ever again (or at least until I get sick of the grey : ) ).

The only redemption is that we have learned a lot and that we really don't ever want to do this again. Our conscious is helped in that since we bought our house, our value has gone up almost 3 fold, which ain't too shabby. It does helps me sleep at night. Of course, we didn't buy it for financial profiteering, but we did have a long-term investment in mind, and I guess when all is said and done it will pay out someday. But I do have to wonder sometimes, the time and money it has eaten away at, what was the real cost? I am just happy to be done and be home.

Delays and such

After a month of not receiving any information from Utah State I was beginning to think that I wasn't admitted into the Speech Pathology program. Had my transcripts arrived? Had they been lost? I knew the program was somewhat competitive, but I thought my GPA would be good enough. I logged onto the account I sat up for my application, and sure enough I have been admitted-in good standing. I was excited, but at the same time somewhat angry. During the application process, the university stated they would notify me of my acceptance and then the department to which I am applying to would contact me with registration information.
Hummmm, here it is the Friday before the first day of classes and nada from the university. It is beginning to look like this semester is lost. I have contacted the "contact person" to ask what is up, but no reply. This not only sets me back a semester, but actually could set me back a year for the Master's work (depending on start cycles). Additionally, I was considering an overseas opportunity next summer in either England or Sweden for Speech Pathology with NYU. Now I am not sure how that will play out. I guess these are all just minor obstacles that must be overcome. I am sure if I get over my expectations and pre-set deadlines, everything will fall into place.

The Veterans hospital does have a speech and audiology clinic for me to volunteer in, so that's good, but their application process is so intense that it could be a month before I can start. Red-tape nightmare. I should know by now that this is a military institution and to expect nothing but a pain in the butt.

Things are moving along, just slower than I had expected. But they are moving forward. That is all that counts.

I would also like to say Congratulations to my friend Jody, who just completed the Vancouver marathon in under 5 hours! Congrats girl! Outside of sleep, I can't imagine doing anything for 5 hours. I think this is an amazing accomplishment.

White Sandy Beach

I guess it took 6 days for YouTube to post that video I had requested. Then they posted it 3 times. Strange. Oh well. Here it is.

So what's next?

I was home less than 24 hours and already planning my next trip. I guess spring has entered my bones. That, and my birthday is just a few short weeks away. I usually like to do something special on my birthday. Probably the most "memorable" birthday adventures were my 25th and my 30th. My 25th I decided to go for a glider plane ride. The pilot made me sick and paid the priced dearly. My 30th was spent on an island just off the beach of Pensacola, Florida. It was a full moon and warm. I stayed there until 4:00a.m.. It was great! This year for the big 35, I have decided to drag my husband on a 4 day backpacking trip to Southern Utah. I chose Hackberry Canyon within the Grand Staircase Escalante park. It should have lots of slots to get down into, some beautiful backcountry, dinasour tracks, and even an old pioneer cabin that is still standing. The only possible issue is that there is no water for the first day, so we will have to lug in our own water bottles. I am really looking forward to this trip.

I was there, I promise...

Most the photos of me were taken at night. So you can't really see me. Here is one. Although hard to make out, Larry took it as we were overlooking Kane'ohe Bay area. The rest are on Flickr.

More pictures

Okay...so it has been slow going with the pictures. Larry has been on the computer most the day filling out job apps, so I haven't had a whole lot of time to do this. I am going to try to put some of them on Flickr (at least the one's that turned out). Unfortunatley there aren't really any of me. Mostly because I ventured around the island by myself.
Here are some of my favorites so far:

Sunset at the Hale Koa

Afternoon rainbow (actually a double)














Sunset at Hickam AF Base


True Colors

From my perspective

I have begun the rather painful process of downloading my pictures from my cell phone. Some turned out okay, others not so great. Mostly the photos taken at night are grainy and cloudy. Oh well.

Here are two of the first pics downloaded. They pretty much demonstrate how I spent my time in Hawaii.
Also, while in Hawaii I fell in love with a song that is played often on the island. I managed to find it on You Tube, but was unable to post it to my blog, so I have included the link. The song really captures the feeling of Hawaii. "IZ" unfortunately passed away in 1997, but his music still rings true for Hawaiians. The song is called "White Sandy Beach"
He is more famous for "Somewhere over the Rainbow"
Enjoy!

The long road home

Well, I made it back to SLC this morning after a long red-eye from Honolulu. I left at 10:30 last night but it feels like it was just a few hours ago. I got zippo sleep on the plane. Me and sleeping on planes are mutually exclusive. I also had a flight attendant that for her rather small frame walked like an elephant and made no attempt at being quiet. Every time she would walk by she would hit my elbow. Isn't there some sort of "graceful" aptitude for being a flight attendant?
I guess I shouldn't bitch too much, I don't pay for my seat, but I can get a little moody when I am tired.
I left Honolulu with temps at about 82, and landed here at 44 with overcast skies and rain. Although it's chilly, coming home always looks so good to me. I love to travel, but I also love having a home to come back to.

Anyway, I am sleepy and hungry. I think I will have some breakfast and then try and get a bit of shut eye.