Memorial Day

I looked around for a great quote to steal and share on my Facebook page for Memorial Day. I found myself suddenly caught up in remembering, and thinking about what Memorial Day means - to me.

Some people might think that children only remember the picnics and the flags, and while there were plenty of picnics and flags when I was a child, what I remember most are the trips to the Wilbur Cemetery. I remember finding the crooked tree, knowing that was where my grandparents, Herman and Elida Hagen were buried, as well as their parents, my great-grandparents. Sometimes my mom ordered flowers from the flower shop and other times we just raided the yard of lilacs and peonies to place on the graves of our loved ones. Each year it seemed we visited more graves than the year before.  I didn't really remember the people we honored then - because I never knew them. Even though they died long before I was born, I know they influenced my life through my mother and my aunts and uncles. They had to have been the  most wonderful people! As the years passed I learned what it really meant, as I was placing flowers on the gravesites of people I did know.

On Memorial Day I always remember my brother Brad, my nephew Aaron and of course, Dad. I think of all the people who have died and what they meant to me. Even though they are not physically here, they have never left my life and are with me every day. I see them, at times, in my own face as I catch myself in the mirror, and see a familiar smile that is more than just my own.

This year I think especially of those who I have lost more recently. In just the past 10 months I have lost my Uncle Bud, my Aunt Nadene and my Aunt Karen. Each of them was special, each will be remembered today by so many others.

Also, in September Norm passed away. I know this is the greatest loss my children have ever had to endure. I hope they can feel his presence in their lives in a positive way - just as I find my own dad in little things I experience each day. I think of Norm today, and remember his life and the goodness of his heart. 

I remember parades and flags and poppies. I know that Memorial Day was established to honor "all Americans who died in military service." I do honor them. I appreciate the sacrifices made and I know that on this gigantic scale Memorial Day is important.
No less important is what Memorial Day means to each of us as individuals.

Whatever will be will be.

I’m back at the Herald, in a permanent position. I’ve had to sort of let it sink in for that past couple of weeks to be able to express how I really feel about it. I had a ‘que sera, sera’ attitude while I was going through the process of applying, and interviewing for the job. I don’t think it was so much that I wasn’t sure I could do it, as I wasn’t sure if I should.

After losing my job there a couple years ago I heard a lot about doors closing and windows opening. I never believed for a moment that my new open window would allow me to return to the place I considered my second home.

Yes, this means a lot to me.

I am sappy and sentimental - I know these things about myself. I reflect and analyze far too much. But here’s the thing; the Herald is to me what Tara was to Scarlett O’Hara, Kansas to Dorothy. The Herald is home to me.

I know that I would have been okay if they hadn’t chosen me for this new position. I might have felt a little slighted, but I have learned that life is about changes and choices and that there is always something a person can do. I trust that the right windows and doors open and then it is up to me to choose which ones to go through.

I’m so lucky to have been given the chance to choose the Herald again. It is hard work and stressful, but that is what drives me. That is what I love.

The old Herald building may be gone, and many of my favorite people have moved on or retired, but they are still with me. And always will be.

The women who worked tirelessly in the Advertising department were the women who molded my career life. They made me see, through their own diligence and success, what was possible for me. I hope to be that woman for someone new who might be searching, as I was, for hope.

Now I have a challenging road ahead of me, as I have a lot to learn. I know I can do it.  I am thinking of all the people who have been with me through the past couple of years while I struggled to find my way – people who supported me with encouragement while I went to college and searched for jobs. I am so thankful I had to go through that. It was a huge growth opportunity for me. I never thought I would feel this way about being a part of the layoffs at the Tri-City Herald. I can see now that it was good for me after all.

Aunt Karen

We had another loss in our family last week. My Aunt Karen passed away. Her name is not pronounced like 'Care - en' - but like 'carr - en'. She was Danish, married to Mom's brother, Uncle Nordahl, a Norsk, of course. When I was a little girl I was especially fond of Aunt Karen's parents, Bedstemor and Bedstefar. Bedstefar looked a bit like Santa Claus and Bedstemor grew the most beautiful flowers in town. One thing I always knew was how much my Aunt Karen also loved her parents.

Aunt Karen worked for the local newspaper and I was always very proud of that. I remember going on a field trip to The Wilbur Register office for Bible School one summer. Even though I was shy, it didn't stop me from bragging to my friends that my Aunt Karen worked there. Those feelings never left me. As an adult that is what prompted me to apply for work at our local paper, a job that lasted over 20 years.

Aunt Karen was also a very good 'friend of the library.' The smell and feel of the Hesseltine Public Library in Wilbur will always remind me of her. She loved to read and also volunteered her time at the library. I recently applied for a job at a library, and once again, I know Aunt Karen was part of my inspiration for that. (I hope I get it!)

When I was a kid, Uncle Nordahl and Aunt Karen lived on 'the farm' outside of Wilbur. The farm was where my mom and all but one of her siblings were born. The farm is where we went for family picnics. The farm is where so many memories that shaped me into the person I am were made.

It was so much fun to play with my cousins and sit at a table full of family to have our meals. To this day I can't put my elbows on the table without thinking of Aunt Karen. You see, one of my older cousins once told me that if you put your elbows on the table Aunt Karen would jab you very hard with a fork. To my memory, that never really happened, and I know it never happened to me - but it stopped me from putting my elbows on the table.

Aunt Karen always had interesting things to show me, sometimes things she found around the farm, but usually things she'd made. She could knit and also weave beautiful baskets. One time Mom, Joan and I all went to the farm to make baskets with Aunt Karen. Everyone did quite well, except for me. I remember being teased a little about my crooked attempt at weaving, but Aunt Karen graciously handed me the excuse that I "had punky reed."

Sometimes the things we remember about a person can't be described. They are just a part of us, as much as our hearts and our hands - the memories are just there, not tangible. I can feel her and hear her, but I can't impart who she was in this blog. Those who knew her and loved her don't need me to write about her - they just know, as I do.

Aunt Karen - you are missed already. I know you are in heaven with Uncle Nordahl. You are no longer suffering with the cancer that took over and hurt you so much. I know, that you know, how much you meant to me and how much of an influence you were on my life.

I love you.

Introspection

For most of my adult life I have been under the mistaken delusion that the things I think and feel are important - wise - that they could benefit others.
I find, more often now, that most difficult situations are much better served if I just keep my feelings to myself.

How many of us go through life with good intentions, only making things harder for others? It doesn't make us bad people, just naïve.

I've been thinking a lot over the past couple of weeks, and that can be a dangerous thing. Thinking too much about any one thing can make the thing bigger than it might, in reality be. I am trying to learn from my mistakes in life. I don't want to hurt people. I don't want to lose people.

Remember that not everyone shares your experiences in life and they may not be able to appreciate, or even hear what you have to say. They may not care. It simply might be none of your business. These are things I know, but often forget. I needed to be reminded.
How many times do I speak up, and without knowing it, hurt someone?

I know we all make mistakes.

I will move on now - and keep things to myself.

TCH ~ the missing blog.

This is the blog I started, then lost. This morning I was searching for something in my computer and I accidentally came across this. It is now outdated, and since I wrote it, my temporary time at TCH has been extended a few times. I'm still there and still learning new things. I'm faced with having to take some chances, make some choices ~ and I don't know how it will turn out. But we never do, do we? Finding this little snippet this morning seems a bit like a message to myself. I'll figure it out later!


It’s almost the last week of November and starting to feel like winter outside. Time really does go by faster as you get older. Yes, I’m older. Old.

In September, almost exactly 23 years after the first time, I started working at the Tri-City Herald again. It is a temporary position that will end in just about 5 more weeks. I can’t believe how quickly my time there has flown by. At the end of December I will be able to say that I worked for the Tri-City Herald for 21 years. When I had to leave there in 2011 I was just 4 months short of 21 years. I will be sad to have to leave again, but it has been good for me. It won’t be as sad as when I had to leave 2 ½ years ago. Being given the opportunity to go back, for even a short time, has been such a positive experience for me.

It’s been like getting back together with an old friend. I don’t only mean the people, but the place itself. Of course, some of my old friends are still there, but many have moved on. Many positions just no longer exist. The business is changing, as all things must. It makes me a little sad. Still, there is something about being there that feels like home; arriving in the morning with the anticipation of the day, the hustle and bustle of making deadlines and creating something that impacts so many people’s lives on a daily basis. I was always proud of the Herald and I still am.
Being able to return has also helped me to find a part of myself that I had lost over the past couple of years.

....another last day at the Herald

Have you ever seen the movie "Groundhog Day"? Well, February 2 is not far off and I'm experiencing my own sort of recurring day - my last day at the Herald!

If you saw my last post you will know that yesterday was supposed to be my second last day of work at TCH. Now I have been granted another week of work!

When I started working in September it was supposed to last until the end of the year. December 27th was to be my last day. Happily, it was extended and I prepared for January 16th to be my last day. It was extended again and I was going to be done on January 23rd. I  packed up my grandbaby photos, my stapler and my inspirational cubical hanging. Yesterday they even had a lunch for me at Hubby's to say goodbye. I told the cat that next week I would be home with him, watching movies and reading books. (When I'm not figuring out what to do with the rest of my life)

I really like working, and I love the Tri-City Herald, so you won't hear me complain one tiny bit about my last day now being January 30th. Does this mean that it is really my 4th last day?

It would be easy to entertain the fantasy that I could just keep working at the Herald for many years to come, with one week extensions being granted each week, but I know better. I'm pretty sure next week will really be my last week. Maybe not forever. You never know what might happen.

I have been applying for jobs, but also keeping other options open. I've been thinking about going back to CBC and continuing on to get my AA. I am no longer afraid of Accounting 202! After all, I did 'the Algebra' and came out on the other side, unscarred.

So, I am dreaming, wishing and believing. Something will work out for me whether Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow on February 2nd or not.  Just like spring, my last day had to come eventually.

Leaving the Herald again....

I wrote a draft awhile back - and it has disappeared. I left it sitting out "there" because I wasn't ready to publish it, but now it's gone and I don't think I can find those words again. Funny how things that are ours, like our words, are so difficult to recover once they are lost.
I wanted to write about going back to work at the Tri-City Herald. Actually, I did write about it, but the Internet has decided to play tricks on me and it is gone, gone, gone.
So - I will do my best to write something.
In September I went back to work at the Tri-City Herald. It ws a temporary job from the start and now I have only two more days until I have my second last day of work at the Herald. I will miss it when I leave, but there won't be tears like the last time.
I learned a lot of new things and gained a different perspective from the one I had before. I didn't do my old job - in fact, I wasn't allowed to dummy the paper. The person doing that now is doing a fine job and doesn't need my help. The layout of the paper has changed in the past 3 years as it has gotten smaller, and is now being printed in Yakima. It would have been fun to see if it would all have come back to me, but there were other things to do!
I learned what it is like on the other side of the dummies - the ad sales side. I have a better understanding and appreciation of the sales reps. It truly is something you have to step into in order to understand, and I only did a portion of what they do.
I was working as an ad assistant - doing pretty much anything they asked me to do.  It was busy and sometimes stressful, but I really enjoyed it. I feel proud of the job I did and confident that I made a difference. That said, they will be fine without me, just like they were the last time I left. I don't say that with any bitterness - it is simply the truth. Yes, the lessons I've learned have been valuable!
Going back was good.