How times have changed. When I was small, we got milk delivered at the back door. It only came in quart bottles, yes, glass bottles. Any dairy product you could want was available from the friendly "milkman". The bottles were capped with carboard stoppers, that the boys collected. I don't remember why, but they did. When it became obvious that dirt was sure to get in the recess the cap was set in, they began to put a hood over the bottle top. That kept the cap clean, and free from any dirt and germs.
All milk at that time came as "whole milk" only, they didn't have all the varieties we can choose from today. And of course you could order goats milk as well. I believe they even carried orange juice on occasion. You know back then, you could get just about anything in the food line delivered or from a street vender that would come up and down the street in front of the house at least once a week. When I lived in Pennsylvania, they used horse drawn carts. Oh, and they delivered ice. Most people back then didn't have refrigerators. Hard to believe huh!
Well that was just the way it was. You could order cream, but most folks would just "skim" off the cream from their regular milk if they wanted to have whipped cream for something, otherwise you had to shake the bottle before you poured out a glass of milk to make sure the cream was mixed in well. Now the milk is put through processes that mixes the cream in so it does not seperate, or removes it all together to make the milk less fattening. Whipping cream is sold in seperate containers. Oh, and those cartons you see today were not introduced until much later. They have naturally given way to the plastic bottle. Come to think of it I don't think I saw milk in other than quart sizes until the carton was introduced. Then you could get half gallons. Now with the plastic bottles you can get a whole gallon at one time. Surprising how time has put so much difference in just one product.
I don't recall "sour cream" either. I don't remember if it just came into being, or if it was always available. My first experience was with a baked potato at a resturant. Then when Mexican Food became so popular, it seems to have become a staple for a lot of things.
Speaking of Mexican Food, I don't recall seeing it, except at my friends home. She was Mexican, and it was nothing like what you buy at a resturant today. They had tortias but I don't recall ever seeing a Taco. They first came to my attention when we lived in Pico Rivera. Paul was about 7 years old. We had our first experience with them. I didn't know how to make refried beans so we used kidney beans. We thought they were pretty good then, but I don't believe we would touch one made that way today. Then you put the beans "in" the Taco. Now they eat them on the side. Oh, and the rice. I don't remember ever having that until much later. I guess everything just sort of "grows". What would we do without Mexican Food today? Or milk as we know it for that matter.
I don't remember having chocolate milk back when I was small. Then they introduced Ovaltine. I hated the taste back when it was first introduced. It must have grown on me, or my taste changed, because I really enjoy it now. Then there was "Junket". That was the kind of pudding we used to have. Later Mom made pudding with corn starch. I liked it much better. You can still buy "Junket", but you have to shop around to find it. It was Jays' favorite. I never made it for him, he just remembered it from his childhood days at home. I guess his Mother made it for the kids as a treat. Back then there were few treats available.
I hope you are taking notes of the things you like now, because you just may find that by the time you are grand parents, nothing will be the same as when you were a child. Progress means change, and change in most cases is pretty good. It just makes life better, for the most part anyway.
Milkman went from horse drawn wagons to milk trucks, then to oblivion. Delivery at the back door is ancient history. Sorry to say it isn't missed, but it was a good paying job in it's day. I use to love to put the milk bottles out by the back door for the milkman. On occasion Mom would even order something extra and we would leave a note in one of the milk bottles. They always had products on the truck to take care of any requests. You could increase your order of milk, or put a request in for something on a special day. Small thing, but it made a big difference. It was always important to put a note out if you were going away, otherwise, you had spoiled milk on your doorstep when you returned. Such it was when I was a girl - a long, long time ago.
Written this 25th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Monday, January 25, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
When did we make a choice, or did we?
This is something that has been on my mind for some time now. Was it in the pre-existence that we managed to find other spirits that we spent time with and developed relationships with that became so desired; a request to be gathered at the same time and place when "our time on earth" came? An interesting thought. We have been told that some spirits were and are being held back until the time when they will do the work needed to usher in the Second Coming of Christ. I believe they refer to them as "Saturdays Warriors".
We certainly understand that all those who have preceeded us were instrumental in bringing about the various Dispensations. They were the ones who were willing to come and do the things most needed to advance the work and plan of the Lord. Maybe they didn't fully understand all the things we do, they were certainly important in paving the way, and continuing families to which we are joined today.
I just heard on TV yesterday someone asking: "just who made the rules?" I don't have any problem answering that, and feeling quite secure in my answer: "God". Think about it. When the earth was made, and prepared for mortals, they came as a pair. One man, Adam and one woman, Eve. They couldn't have had an difficulty figuring out what the proper form of living together was. They were joined as one. It was Adam and Eve. That was the plan, that was the form, that was natural. No question who was the father, nor the mother. If there had been any question the answer was spelled out after they ate of the forbidden fruit. Adam would labor bringing forth food and Eve would labor bringing forth children. Simple, natural, right!
Maybe watching the way the Mortal Children of Adam and Eve began making up families from the beginning can help us? Everyone is left to make their choices. Pair off and continue the mortal families here on earth. I am still curious however. As the children of God have multiplied over the generations and dispensations were todays families chosen before they actually came here?
Did I choose my Dad and Mother? Then, what made my choice good enough that I landed in the right place at the right time so that I would find, or have the Gospel find me? How is it that I above all the other girls who had "eyes" for Jay come up the "winner"? So many variables, kind of scarey really. Yet could I have missed the boat? I wonder? Something to think about.
Did I know there that I would only have two children? Did I know who they would be? In some really wide spectrum I could even wonder, did I know my Grand Children then, had we talked about all the things that were and would happen?
You know I had always wanted a sister. The nearest thing I had to that was Willetta, my brothers wife. What a sweetheart she was. Did I know her before? When I had my own daughter I hoped we would be close and have a bond that was as wonderful as I had hoped having a sister would have been. I haven't seemed to have achieved that magic. You notice I said: "I have never". Something that has been a great disappointment on my part. I know the desire has always been there, but I seem to have been short in directing things in that direction.
Could be part of my eternal progression. Something that will come, but I haven't earned it just yet. Somethings I believe are worth waiting for.
How did I end up a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints? Such a far cry from anything I had know in my early years. With all those I knew in school, yet never knew they were LDS, it seems stange that I would end up finding "Mr Right" who was neither active nor interested in the Church. Was it the fact I had to fight my way into activity that has made me faithful? Good question! Would I have been the Latter-day Saint I am today if I had found a faithful partner who would have guided me through those early trials? I wonder! Or, was I the hard head that had to drive the faith in the family and have "Mr Right" tag along until the twilight years to join in the "journey"? Good question.
What makes any of us choose and struggle? Why are we where we are? What has kept us on the path? Where will we really end up? You know they say it isn't over until the "fat lady sings". I am not even sure it will be over when it is "over". It seems to me that a lot more goes on after the "final curtain call". Knowing for sure that what I did before I came here has a great deal more power than I even know about - that will effect "here after". I recall how I was stunned to read in Jays Patriarical Blessing that his name was on the "Lambs Book of Life" before he was born. That ment he had earned his place in the Celestial Kingdom. He had been valiant and walked shoulder to shoulder with Adam in the war in Heaven. Pretty impressive I'd say. Then I stopped to remember that it was only in those twilight years he had fulfilled his Mission and gone to the Temple enough to learn those important things before he passed through that "final curtain". I have seemed to have had to learn so much, and he, it seems had done all that before he even got here. That is not to say I am slow, it just means that both sides of mortality seem to be terribly important - how much choosing did we really do? Was part of those choices being willing to give our faithful stewardship on this side, rather than there? Good question! Or have we given some on both sides?
I have heard it said we would be amazed if we knew here what we knew there. I only hope that I can remember then what I have learned here. It has been such a wonderful thing to me to be able to read and understand things I wouldn't have even thought about before. To set in a Temple Session and after all these years hear something NEW. How does that happen. Like Sister Stout use to tell me: "I am surprised at how much more they have put into the Book of Mormon since the last time I read it". Maybe that is what is ment by "seeing is believing". So much I never saw before and yet when it appears before my eyes I set dumb struck that I never saw it before. Nothing new, just something revealed. Amazing and wonderful.
Well from the title of this "rambling" I wondered when did we make that choice, or did we. I don't believe anything happens by accident, but how much we knew, planned, aided, promoted, or even wanted before we came here is something I shall not know here, but when I do, I am sure I will be just as amazed and full of wonderment as when I set there in the Temple and find that "something new" that becomes clear to my mind and thrills me. In the mean time, I shall plod along, thinking on such things and hoping when the "further light and knowledge" we have been promised finally becomes clear, I will be able to show the thrill that moment brings. Learning is fun. I hope I may go on being "added upon".
Written this 21st day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
We certainly understand that all those who have preceeded us were instrumental in bringing about the various Dispensations. They were the ones who were willing to come and do the things most needed to advance the work and plan of the Lord. Maybe they didn't fully understand all the things we do, they were certainly important in paving the way, and continuing families to which we are joined today.
I just heard on TV yesterday someone asking: "just who made the rules?" I don't have any problem answering that, and feeling quite secure in my answer: "God". Think about it. When the earth was made, and prepared for mortals, they came as a pair. One man, Adam and one woman, Eve. They couldn't have had an difficulty figuring out what the proper form of living together was. They were joined as one. It was Adam and Eve. That was the plan, that was the form, that was natural. No question who was the father, nor the mother. If there had been any question the answer was spelled out after they ate of the forbidden fruit. Adam would labor bringing forth food and Eve would labor bringing forth children. Simple, natural, right!
Maybe watching the way the Mortal Children of Adam and Eve began making up families from the beginning can help us? Everyone is left to make their choices. Pair off and continue the mortal families here on earth. I am still curious however. As the children of God have multiplied over the generations and dispensations were todays families chosen before they actually came here?
Did I choose my Dad and Mother? Then, what made my choice good enough that I landed in the right place at the right time so that I would find, or have the Gospel find me? How is it that I above all the other girls who had "eyes" for Jay come up the "winner"? So many variables, kind of scarey really. Yet could I have missed the boat? I wonder? Something to think about.
Did I know there that I would only have two children? Did I know who they would be? In some really wide spectrum I could even wonder, did I know my Grand Children then, had we talked about all the things that were and would happen?
You know I had always wanted a sister. The nearest thing I had to that was Willetta, my brothers wife. What a sweetheart she was. Did I know her before? When I had my own daughter I hoped we would be close and have a bond that was as wonderful as I had hoped having a sister would have been. I haven't seemed to have achieved that magic. You notice I said: "I have never". Something that has been a great disappointment on my part. I know the desire has always been there, but I seem to have been short in directing things in that direction.
Could be part of my eternal progression. Something that will come, but I haven't earned it just yet. Somethings I believe are worth waiting for.
How did I end up a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints? Such a far cry from anything I had know in my early years. With all those I knew in school, yet never knew they were LDS, it seems stange that I would end up finding "Mr Right" who was neither active nor interested in the Church. Was it the fact I had to fight my way into activity that has made me faithful? Good question! Would I have been the Latter-day Saint I am today if I had found a faithful partner who would have guided me through those early trials? I wonder! Or, was I the hard head that had to drive the faith in the family and have "Mr Right" tag along until the twilight years to join in the "journey"? Good question.
What makes any of us choose and struggle? Why are we where we are? What has kept us on the path? Where will we really end up? You know they say it isn't over until the "fat lady sings". I am not even sure it will be over when it is "over". It seems to me that a lot more goes on after the "final curtain call". Knowing for sure that what I did before I came here has a great deal more power than I even know about - that will effect "here after". I recall how I was stunned to read in Jays Patriarical Blessing that his name was on the "Lambs Book of Life" before he was born. That ment he had earned his place in the Celestial Kingdom. He had been valiant and walked shoulder to shoulder with Adam in the war in Heaven. Pretty impressive I'd say. Then I stopped to remember that it was only in those twilight years he had fulfilled his Mission and gone to the Temple enough to learn those important things before he passed through that "final curtain". I have seemed to have had to learn so much, and he, it seems had done all that before he even got here. That is not to say I am slow, it just means that both sides of mortality seem to be terribly important - how much choosing did we really do? Was part of those choices being willing to give our faithful stewardship on this side, rather than there? Good question! Or have we given some on both sides?
I have heard it said we would be amazed if we knew here what we knew there. I only hope that I can remember then what I have learned here. It has been such a wonderful thing to me to be able to read and understand things I wouldn't have even thought about before. To set in a Temple Session and after all these years hear something NEW. How does that happen. Like Sister Stout use to tell me: "I am surprised at how much more they have put into the Book of Mormon since the last time I read it". Maybe that is what is ment by "seeing is believing". So much I never saw before and yet when it appears before my eyes I set dumb struck that I never saw it before. Nothing new, just something revealed. Amazing and wonderful.
Well from the title of this "rambling" I wondered when did we make that choice, or did we. I don't believe anything happens by accident, but how much we knew, planned, aided, promoted, or even wanted before we came here is something I shall not know here, but when I do, I am sure I will be just as amazed and full of wonderment as when I set there in the Temple and find that "something new" that becomes clear to my mind and thrills me. In the mean time, I shall plod along, thinking on such things and hoping when the "further light and knowledge" we have been promised finally becomes clear, I will be able to show the thrill that moment brings. Learning is fun. I hope I may go on being "added upon".
Written this 21st day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
What about those SHOES?
I certainly have had a lot over the years. Wonder how that all started? So do I. Well I may have some idea. When I was "little" Mom said I wore "O" shoe size when I was a year old. I was tiny as you may reacall. I can never really remember being able to find shoes that fit me until I was around 16 years old. What I found were "junk". No style, no color choice, and very little comfort as I recall.
I believe I have covered trying to find high heels when I graduated from Jr. High School. What we finally came up with was something I don't think my Grandmother would have even worn. It wasn't much better when I wanted something for High School Graduation. I finally ended up with a pair of black suede flats. Just what the shortest girl in the Graduating class was looking for, right? I was mortified, but there was nothing I could do about it. At the time I was still wearing a 1 or 1 and 1/2 size shoe. Even kids shoes did'nt have any class back then.
When I went to work, I haunted every shoe store in town. Back then there was one on every corner and in between every block. I finally found the sample shoes they put in the windows were the smallest shoes they made. Size 3. When they had sales of course those shoes were put out for $1.00. My most favorite pair was kelly green suede baby doll toe 3" heels, wow. My foot looked like the shoe sounded. I wore them with a rust colored two piece that was trimmed in mustard yellow. What a site. (one of Jays favorites as I recall). Back then I weighed 95 pounds soaking wet.
There was always a sale at the end of each season. So I would go from shoe store to shoe store and come out with boxes of shoes, all colors, styles and heel heights. I loved it, and so did my pocket book. My second most favorite pair was cocoa brown suede sling back with a closed dutch toe. I wore those shoes until they fell apart. Never have seen another pair like them since. Pitty, they were so cute, and comfortable to boot. Oh, and they didn't have any boot styles back then. Might have been because of the shortage of leather, or just they hadn't come into fashion back then. I doubt I could have worn any anyway. It appears that my legs are too short and my calves are too fat to get any to fit. I have tried a number of times, but with no success.
They have changed the last and size of shoes now, mainly because a great many are made in Europe and the women over there have bigger and wider feet. From going barefoot so much I guess. Same for the shoes that come in from South of the Border and South America.. I notice most styles come in more wide sizes than medium. Pity the poor women like Aunt Olive who wore an AA width. Yes there are people who have such narrow feet.
I think the fact I didn't go bare footed when I was small is the reason my foot didn't widen out. When I was about 3 or 4 I was playing on the lawn in the front yard in my bare feet. I happened to step on a bee that was gathering nectar from the clover in the yard. I never had anything hurt so bad, or cause me more problems that I can recall from my youth - well outside the Croupe I suffered with. My whole foot was sore and puffed up. I undoubtedly had an allergic reaction, but I am not sure they knew what that was back then. The experience woke me up to the fact going in my bare feet wasn't something I wanted to do. I forgot that just once. That was when I stepped into that red hot sand while at the beach camping once. It was both painful and put me off my feet for quite awhile. Those kinds of things you don't soon forget.
Well, I still like shoes. I can't wear the snappy ones like I once did. Arthritis has put a stop to that. I have had a good time of it, so can't really complain. Well, I could, but it wouldn't change anything, so why bother!?
That little girl that couldn't find fun shoes when she was younger made up for it. In fact I can still remember my embarassment when everyone was wearing those cute saddle oxfords. My how I wanted a pair of those. Well, I found a pair - they were rounded toes with brown saddles. Everyone else had the smart pointed toe with black or navy blue saddles. I never could match the styles back then. Now you don't even see them. Too bad - they were sharp! Oh, and the Penny Loafers. I couldn't get a pair of those that would fit either. My foot was just too short and I couldn't keep the darned things on. Ugg!
The one style in heels that I always wanted was Spectator Pumps. I finally got a pair of brown and white, but here again they had that rounded toe. The snappy ones, naturally, had pointed toes. I have a red and white pair now as well as a black patten and white pair - I don't know that I can part with them, but I sure can't wear them either. Arthritis doesn't like the pressure caused by wearing heels. Well I do try them on once in awhile to please my ego, but they go right back in the Shoe Caddy. Maybe one day I will have the heart to let them go, but not just now. Besides, I don't think anyone would love them quite as much as I do!
Written this 21 day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
I believe I have covered trying to find high heels when I graduated from Jr. High School. What we finally came up with was something I don't think my Grandmother would have even worn. It wasn't much better when I wanted something for High School Graduation. I finally ended up with a pair of black suede flats. Just what the shortest girl in the Graduating class was looking for, right? I was mortified, but there was nothing I could do about it. At the time I was still wearing a 1 or 1 and 1/2 size shoe. Even kids shoes did'nt have any class back then.
When I went to work, I haunted every shoe store in town. Back then there was one on every corner and in between every block. I finally found the sample shoes they put in the windows were the smallest shoes they made. Size 3. When they had sales of course those shoes were put out for $1.00. My most favorite pair was kelly green suede baby doll toe 3" heels, wow. My foot looked like the shoe sounded. I wore them with a rust colored two piece that was trimmed in mustard yellow. What a site. (one of Jays favorites as I recall). Back then I weighed 95 pounds soaking wet.
There was always a sale at the end of each season. So I would go from shoe store to shoe store and come out with boxes of shoes, all colors, styles and heel heights. I loved it, and so did my pocket book. My second most favorite pair was cocoa brown suede sling back with a closed dutch toe. I wore those shoes until they fell apart. Never have seen another pair like them since. Pitty, they were so cute, and comfortable to boot. Oh, and they didn't have any boot styles back then. Might have been because of the shortage of leather, or just they hadn't come into fashion back then. I doubt I could have worn any anyway. It appears that my legs are too short and my calves are too fat to get any to fit. I have tried a number of times, but with no success.
They have changed the last and size of shoes now, mainly because a great many are made in Europe and the women over there have bigger and wider feet. From going barefoot so much I guess. Same for the shoes that come in from South of the Border and South America.. I notice most styles come in more wide sizes than medium. Pity the poor women like Aunt Olive who wore an AA width. Yes there are people who have such narrow feet.
I think the fact I didn't go bare footed when I was small is the reason my foot didn't widen out. When I was about 3 or 4 I was playing on the lawn in the front yard in my bare feet. I happened to step on a bee that was gathering nectar from the clover in the yard. I never had anything hurt so bad, or cause me more problems that I can recall from my youth - well outside the Croupe I suffered with. My whole foot was sore and puffed up. I undoubtedly had an allergic reaction, but I am not sure they knew what that was back then. The experience woke me up to the fact going in my bare feet wasn't something I wanted to do. I forgot that just once. That was when I stepped into that red hot sand while at the beach camping once. It was both painful and put me off my feet for quite awhile. Those kinds of things you don't soon forget.
Well, I still like shoes. I can't wear the snappy ones like I once did. Arthritis has put a stop to that. I have had a good time of it, so can't really complain. Well, I could, but it wouldn't change anything, so why bother!?
That little girl that couldn't find fun shoes when she was younger made up for it. In fact I can still remember my embarassment when everyone was wearing those cute saddle oxfords. My how I wanted a pair of those. Well, I found a pair - they were rounded toes with brown saddles. Everyone else had the smart pointed toe with black or navy blue saddles. I never could match the styles back then. Now you don't even see them. Too bad - they were sharp! Oh, and the Penny Loafers. I couldn't get a pair of those that would fit either. My foot was just too short and I couldn't keep the darned things on. Ugg!
The one style in heels that I always wanted was Spectator Pumps. I finally got a pair of brown and white, but here again they had that rounded toe. The snappy ones, naturally, had pointed toes. I have a red and white pair now as well as a black patten and white pair - I don't know that I can part with them, but I sure can't wear them either. Arthritis doesn't like the pressure caused by wearing heels. Well I do try them on once in awhile to please my ego, but they go right back in the Shoe Caddy. Maybe one day I will have the heart to let them go, but not just now. Besides, I don't think anyone would love them quite as much as I do!
Written this 21 day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Do Real Men Really Cry?
My Grand Father, Charlie Smith and my brother, Ralph Smith surely did. Both had very sensitive feelings. Grand Dad would cry in the movies more than Grand Mother did. Ralph, well he cried if he thought something was even close to being hurt. Neither of them were thought of less than manly. In fact Ralph jumped out of airplanes and was even qualified as a "glider jumper". That was where the Army lost their largest group of men during the landings on D-Day. Of course Ralph served in the South Pacific and not the European Theatre in WW II.
In the regular stream of things, a man crying seems to have taken on a sign of weakness, when in reality it is far from weakness. Over the years I have met and known a number of men who have no trouble showing their emotions on occasion, none of whom I would classify as weak.
It kind of reminds me of the Prophet Joseph Smith when he expressed the desire to shed his physical body so that his spirit could expand to the size it had developed into. Purhaps a man who has no trouble shedding tears has a very abundant spirit that just squeezes those tears out. Well, it was a thought. Who is to say? I remember a Bishop in Anaheim, Arie Dekker who found it impossible to shake hands with the men he worked with and loved. He always greeted them, much as did the Prophet, with a hug. That could seem to be unmanly as well. I can find no real substance for such thinking. In the Mission Field it was a good practice. In fact when we hit the flu season, it was hard not to hug one another. Love is always so abundant when serving the Lord, it just seems natural to want to convey feelings with a hug.
I am never embarassed by a man who finds his emotions, on occasion, full enough to shed tears. Some of the men I admire most have times when they need to swell to the point that tears flow. Mine flow right along with theirs in total sympathy for their feelings. Oh, it is not uncommon for men to cry at funerals, that is never concidered a weakness. Another reason I can't explain why it would seem less manly to cry when other deep feelings are stirred by everyday experiences.
I don't believe we are ment to supress true feelings. Every emotion is a natural reaction to something that touches us. We get angry when things aren't the way we like. We laugh when things are funny, in fact, we laugh when something happens that makes us nerous. A simple way of carrying off the embarassment we feel. Elation comes when we are excited about something and tears come when we are hurt or sad.
Not having been in some cituations, I haven't experienced what it must be like to have lifes plans altered because of problems. I know Paul has tried to express some of those feelings. He feels like a failure because he hasn't accomplished what the rest of the family has. Yet who is to say the examples he has set may well be the ones we need to help us try harder and be more successful where he was not able to succeed. Not that others in the family have not started down similar paths and been fortunate to have wiser heads to turn the tide and get things back into the proper stream. It is easy to find sympathy where sounder reasoning could be the wisest way to go.
In my own case, I will be forever greatful to a wise Dad who gave great counsel when I thought I knew what was best of me. He didn't try to diswade me from marrying the wrong guy. No, he just told me he hoped the marriage I was so set on would be as good as the one it was going to cost him when he gave his approval. What feather headed teen could argue with such sound wisdom. Happily for me, it was only a few short weeks until I learned the other half of my big dream was not as committed or willing to face hard circumstances. Or when I was not happy in the early stages of my real marriage, he just turned me around and pointed me in the direction I had come from and said: "things will work themselves out." I learned the key word in that counsel was "work". Funny how the simple things are what really mean the most to us.
Well, real men really do cry. Everyone hits low spots and would very easily give in or give up if there were not older and wiser heads around to help steer the fuzzy heads back to a clear path.
We don't need to look at that fella who sheds a tear or two on occasion as weird or weak, no we just have to look back to when something touched our heart or head to the point we teared up. Then is when we hopefully will re-evaluate others feelings and be less judgemental and just a bit more tolerant. Who knows - "there but for the grace of God go I". Anyone of us could tred in the same emotional path, and find it just as hard to keep balance. Sometimes not crying is the harder thing to do. Not letting someone know just how much their actions hurt or make us feel uncomfortable could be every bit as hard. I have had to pass through a number of those moments. I always found crying by myself was more painful. Sharing feelings can be far more worthwhile on all sides. I am greatful the Lord gave us tears. Even more greatful they can mean more than sadness. They can show happiness, sincere feelings and love, yes love. Understanding is important. No, I am never embarassed when I witness a man crying, I find it refreshing to know how deeply feelings go and that there is no problem with letting others know it as well.
My Grand Father was not a big man. He spoke with a clipped English accent and was one of the dearest men I have ever known, and yes, he cried.
Written this 20th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
In the regular stream of things, a man crying seems to have taken on a sign of weakness, when in reality it is far from weakness. Over the years I have met and known a number of men who have no trouble showing their emotions on occasion, none of whom I would classify as weak.
It kind of reminds me of the Prophet Joseph Smith when he expressed the desire to shed his physical body so that his spirit could expand to the size it had developed into. Purhaps a man who has no trouble shedding tears has a very abundant spirit that just squeezes those tears out. Well, it was a thought. Who is to say? I remember a Bishop in Anaheim, Arie Dekker who found it impossible to shake hands with the men he worked with and loved. He always greeted them, much as did the Prophet, with a hug. That could seem to be unmanly as well. I can find no real substance for such thinking. In the Mission Field it was a good practice. In fact when we hit the flu season, it was hard not to hug one another. Love is always so abundant when serving the Lord, it just seems natural to want to convey feelings with a hug.
I am never embarassed by a man who finds his emotions, on occasion, full enough to shed tears. Some of the men I admire most have times when they need to swell to the point that tears flow. Mine flow right along with theirs in total sympathy for their feelings. Oh, it is not uncommon for men to cry at funerals, that is never concidered a weakness. Another reason I can't explain why it would seem less manly to cry when other deep feelings are stirred by everyday experiences.
I don't believe we are ment to supress true feelings. Every emotion is a natural reaction to something that touches us. We get angry when things aren't the way we like. We laugh when things are funny, in fact, we laugh when something happens that makes us nerous. A simple way of carrying off the embarassment we feel. Elation comes when we are excited about something and tears come when we are hurt or sad.
Not having been in some cituations, I haven't experienced what it must be like to have lifes plans altered because of problems. I know Paul has tried to express some of those feelings. He feels like a failure because he hasn't accomplished what the rest of the family has. Yet who is to say the examples he has set may well be the ones we need to help us try harder and be more successful where he was not able to succeed. Not that others in the family have not started down similar paths and been fortunate to have wiser heads to turn the tide and get things back into the proper stream. It is easy to find sympathy where sounder reasoning could be the wisest way to go.
In my own case, I will be forever greatful to a wise Dad who gave great counsel when I thought I knew what was best of me. He didn't try to diswade me from marrying the wrong guy. No, he just told me he hoped the marriage I was so set on would be as good as the one it was going to cost him when he gave his approval. What feather headed teen could argue with such sound wisdom. Happily for me, it was only a few short weeks until I learned the other half of my big dream was not as committed or willing to face hard circumstances. Or when I was not happy in the early stages of my real marriage, he just turned me around and pointed me in the direction I had come from and said: "things will work themselves out." I learned the key word in that counsel was "work". Funny how the simple things are what really mean the most to us.
Well, real men really do cry. Everyone hits low spots and would very easily give in or give up if there were not older and wiser heads around to help steer the fuzzy heads back to a clear path.
We don't need to look at that fella who sheds a tear or two on occasion as weird or weak, no we just have to look back to when something touched our heart or head to the point we teared up. Then is when we hopefully will re-evaluate others feelings and be less judgemental and just a bit more tolerant. Who knows - "there but for the grace of God go I". Anyone of us could tred in the same emotional path, and find it just as hard to keep balance. Sometimes not crying is the harder thing to do. Not letting someone know just how much their actions hurt or make us feel uncomfortable could be every bit as hard. I have had to pass through a number of those moments. I always found crying by myself was more painful. Sharing feelings can be far more worthwhile on all sides. I am greatful the Lord gave us tears. Even more greatful they can mean more than sadness. They can show happiness, sincere feelings and love, yes love. Understanding is important. No, I am never embarassed when I witness a man crying, I find it refreshing to know how deeply feelings go and that there is no problem with letting others know it as well.
My Grand Father was not a big man. He spoke with a clipped English accent and was one of the dearest men I have ever known, and yes, he cried.
Written this 20th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Travels I would love to do!
Now that I have pretty well erased much interest in flying again, I guess any travel that might interest me would have to be done in a "slower" form. I love to drive, so I can see myself taking a motor trip to enjoy the beauty of this Country we live in. The trip I recall with the greatest of enjoyment was the one across the country with three freinds when we stopped at the various Temples on our way. You know you see a number of trailers and motor homes while you are on the open road. They make housing more available, but stopping at a Motel, getting your laundry done and a good nights rest close to where you want to be in the morning is pretty good too.
With good company I would love to drive back to the Church History Sites once more. Things have changed so much since I last had that pleasure. In fact I have never been to Vermont. I would like to see some of the early History sites of New England as well. Pennsylvania with the Liberty Bell and Gettysberg. I don't care to see New York City again, once was enough of that, but I would love to see Watson's Glenn again. There is so much beauty across the United States that any of it is worth the time.
You know I have visited Oklahoma and Will Rogers Museum twice, but I wouldn't mind seeing it again. Never enough time to gather in all the things that are out there. The greatest fun for me is to do some checking of what each State has to offer and then lay out a trip that will allow me the chance to check out as much as I possibly can. I don't mind driving 50 miles or so out of my way to see something of Historical value. You know one thing I have always wanted to do is visit the Plantations in the South. That part of our History always fascinated me. Such beautiful homes and lands. Those Southern States are just full of interesting things to see.
Yes, and I would like to see some of Canada as well. Such a vast country and now that I know my Grand Father on my Mothers side was there, and did some work for the Railroad, I would love to see that as well. Can or will I do that? Probably not, but I would love to. A shame I did not have the information sooner, some of the possibility could have been met purhaps.
Yes I would love to attend more Temples. There are more of them to visit now. Each one so different, and yet the people and the Sessions are the same. Making appointments for the smaller ones did not pose a problem in our trip before, so I would hope to be able to do those I missed the next time around. Especially the one at Winter Quarters in Nebraska. We missed it by one day, they were closed for cleaning. You know we enjoyed attending Church in so many places too. All in all it was a great experience.
If I could make such a trip, I would like to have at least three weeks. Planning would take me about a month on the internet and by mail. So many interesting things to look for and so many decisions of what would be best to fit into the time and with ease in driving. You don't want to spend all that much time in the car. Have to have plenty of time to do and see the things along the route as you can.
There are a couple of trips I have seen by Train that would be fun, if they were afforable. One thing about the Train is you can see things as you travel because you don't have to keep your eye on the road. Then the meals are included if you have a compartment, which is really the only way to go if you are on the Train for any length of time. Chair cars are fine for short distances, but terrible for sleeping if you are going any distance. We have always had such good assistance on the Train. Age has it's advantages in that department.
Would I Cruise again? Yes, if I could find a trip that was interesting enough. I am not interested in going any place that would not be colorful. The Islands of the South Pacific might be interesting. I wouldn't mind going around the Hawian Islands by Ship. That would be very colorful I think. If you want the best of all the Islands of course you need to visit the Polenisian (sp) Cultural Center at BYU Hawaii. That way you can see every Island Culture in a natural setting and see the great entertainment each offers.
I think traveling is great fun. I wish I could have done much more of it when I was younger. As it is, I guess I did quite a bit at that. Never enough however. It is always great to get away, and even better to get back home and into your own bed. Which reminds me, that is where I should be right now, it is a quarter to four in the A.M.
Written this 20th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
With good company I would love to drive back to the Church History Sites once more. Things have changed so much since I last had that pleasure. In fact I have never been to Vermont. I would like to see some of the early History sites of New England as well. Pennsylvania with the Liberty Bell and Gettysberg. I don't care to see New York City again, once was enough of that, but I would love to see Watson's Glenn again. There is so much beauty across the United States that any of it is worth the time.
You know I have visited Oklahoma and Will Rogers Museum twice, but I wouldn't mind seeing it again. Never enough time to gather in all the things that are out there. The greatest fun for me is to do some checking of what each State has to offer and then lay out a trip that will allow me the chance to check out as much as I possibly can. I don't mind driving 50 miles or so out of my way to see something of Historical value. You know one thing I have always wanted to do is visit the Plantations in the South. That part of our History always fascinated me. Such beautiful homes and lands. Those Southern States are just full of interesting things to see.
Yes, and I would like to see some of Canada as well. Such a vast country and now that I know my Grand Father on my Mothers side was there, and did some work for the Railroad, I would love to see that as well. Can or will I do that? Probably not, but I would love to. A shame I did not have the information sooner, some of the possibility could have been met purhaps.
Yes I would love to attend more Temples. There are more of them to visit now. Each one so different, and yet the people and the Sessions are the same. Making appointments for the smaller ones did not pose a problem in our trip before, so I would hope to be able to do those I missed the next time around. Especially the one at Winter Quarters in Nebraska. We missed it by one day, they were closed for cleaning. You know we enjoyed attending Church in so many places too. All in all it was a great experience.
If I could make such a trip, I would like to have at least three weeks. Planning would take me about a month on the internet and by mail. So many interesting things to look for and so many decisions of what would be best to fit into the time and with ease in driving. You don't want to spend all that much time in the car. Have to have plenty of time to do and see the things along the route as you can.
There are a couple of trips I have seen by Train that would be fun, if they were afforable. One thing about the Train is you can see things as you travel because you don't have to keep your eye on the road. Then the meals are included if you have a compartment, which is really the only way to go if you are on the Train for any length of time. Chair cars are fine for short distances, but terrible for sleeping if you are going any distance. We have always had such good assistance on the Train. Age has it's advantages in that department.
Would I Cruise again? Yes, if I could find a trip that was interesting enough. I am not interested in going any place that would not be colorful. The Islands of the South Pacific might be interesting. I wouldn't mind going around the Hawian Islands by Ship. That would be very colorful I think. If you want the best of all the Islands of course you need to visit the Polenisian (sp) Cultural Center at BYU Hawaii. That way you can see every Island Culture in a natural setting and see the great entertainment each offers.
I think traveling is great fun. I wish I could have done much more of it when I was younger. As it is, I guess I did quite a bit at that. Never enough however. It is always great to get away, and even better to get back home and into your own bed. Which reminds me, that is where I should be right now, it is a quarter to four in the A.M.
Written this 20th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Slow Down and Smell the Roses?
As I set here thinking over the past, I realize that has not always been my priority. It appears that in so many instances of my life I have gone "full spead ahead". There is no question in my mind that this has been an expensive waste. This, it appears, has been caused by my anxious drive to keep things moving smoothly and making sure everyone has a good time. In retrospect my rush has ment I missed an awful lot. Well, we can't turn back the clock and those opportunities are gone and few lay ahead to make up for the oversight. Crying over spilt milk is a bigger waste of time. What is left then is the hope to warn others in the path to "slow down" don't let the opportunities to enjoy things as they are happening get lost in the shuffle of everyday living.
As mothers particularly we have the attitude things need to get done. That they do, but not at the expense of missing out on some really very special occasions. You know I have always had a great interest in the things the kids do. In fact that was the major reason we sold out and moved up to the Central Coast. As I look back on it now, I realize I have never heard one of my Grand Children give a talk in Church. I don't recall ever hearing my Adult Children bear their testimony. All of these missed opportunities have been because I made the choice to live in a Ward other than where they were. The effect I hoped to achieve was to let them have their family without Grandma under foot. I guess I have been successful, for years no one even knew that I was Grandma. Guess it has turned out to be one of those: "be careful what you wish for" cituations.
A couple of months ago I was early to my Ward and just happened to stand in the open door way and hear Brenae and Jedediah bear their testimonies. What a thrill that was. They didn't know I was there which made it even more sweet. Putting the shoe on the other foot, I don't believe they have ever heard me bear my testimony. Not to worry, I believe in these Blogs I have done plenty of that.
One of the most hurry up and miss the best of the time was when I took Jay on that Alaskan Cruise. He was not able to do a lot of the moving and shaking. With so much luggage to get gathered up and ready to move to the next point pretty well wore me down. It seemed as if the packing and unpacking, moving, gathering and securing was about all I recall of the trip. A shame really, because it was ment to give us time to enjoy things together. He spent most of his time in the Cabin, and me wandering around the ship alone trying to find things to fill the time. Neither of us benefited much from the experience.
On many of the camping trips we took as a family I recall mainly the hussel of getting packed up and food prepared for our comfort while away. I am not sure I kicked back as much as I could have to really enjoy the things being done. So my advice to slow down is in hopes those who have the chance to do those things today will: "slow down and enjoy the time with the family". I can testify those days will be few and far between and never recaptured. We sure had some great times. We made some pretty wonderful memories along the way as well. The great thing is the kids recall them with such pleasure. The time was not wasted, just the gleaning of sweeter memories missed by allowing the hussel and bussel to strip the gathering of fun from duty. They are both available. For some reason I missed learning that.
Not "grumping" just reflecting on some pretty important thoughts. What is important today may not even matter tomorrow, infact, it may not even cross our mind. Silly huh?
Well I guess that is just how things are. It is foolish to look back on things that cannot be changed. Better to just keep trudging forward and taking advantage of the things that are happening everyday. Like the song from the movie: "Flower Drum Song" A Hundred Million Miracles Are Happening Everyday. We can't catch them all, but we should be able to take advantage of the better part of the best. Never let even the smallest opportunity pass you by. The Lord wisely gave us one day at a time to fill with as much love and joy as we can pack into it. Wasting time by wishing things were different won't capture the majesty of "time". Only what "we" put into it will make things the way "we" want them to be. Happiness is not a destination, or so I have read, it is about as much as we will allow to come into our lives by our
own effort. Try as I might, I cannot make anyone else Happy. I may influence a short span of time in any given day, but it will not expand on its' own. Come to think of it, neither will I. Take time to smell the roses. Their blooming season is not all that long. Their lasting power may be captured, but the fragrance will never linger with the same intensity once the peak is past. Not without some special care to preserve it.
I'm greatful for memories. Like the fragrance of the rose, they return to mind with such sweetness. They never return with the intensity as they were made, but with enough lingering essence that they are always warming and lovely. We never have too many; and we can never make enough, of that I am sure.
Written this 20 day of January, 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
As mothers particularly we have the attitude things need to get done. That they do, but not at the expense of missing out on some really very special occasions. You know I have always had a great interest in the things the kids do. In fact that was the major reason we sold out and moved up to the Central Coast. As I look back on it now, I realize I have never heard one of my Grand Children give a talk in Church. I don't recall ever hearing my Adult Children bear their testimony. All of these missed opportunities have been because I made the choice to live in a Ward other than where they were. The effect I hoped to achieve was to let them have their family without Grandma under foot. I guess I have been successful, for years no one even knew that I was Grandma. Guess it has turned out to be one of those: "be careful what you wish for" cituations.
A couple of months ago I was early to my Ward and just happened to stand in the open door way and hear Brenae and Jedediah bear their testimonies. What a thrill that was. They didn't know I was there which made it even more sweet. Putting the shoe on the other foot, I don't believe they have ever heard me bear my testimony. Not to worry, I believe in these Blogs I have done plenty of that.
One of the most hurry up and miss the best of the time was when I took Jay on that Alaskan Cruise. He was not able to do a lot of the moving and shaking. With so much luggage to get gathered up and ready to move to the next point pretty well wore me down. It seemed as if the packing and unpacking, moving, gathering and securing was about all I recall of the trip. A shame really, because it was ment to give us time to enjoy things together. He spent most of his time in the Cabin, and me wandering around the ship alone trying to find things to fill the time. Neither of us benefited much from the experience.
On many of the camping trips we took as a family I recall mainly the hussel of getting packed up and food prepared for our comfort while away. I am not sure I kicked back as much as I could have to really enjoy the things being done. So my advice to slow down is in hopes those who have the chance to do those things today will: "slow down and enjoy the time with the family". I can testify those days will be few and far between and never recaptured. We sure had some great times. We made some pretty wonderful memories along the way as well. The great thing is the kids recall them with such pleasure. The time was not wasted, just the gleaning of sweeter memories missed by allowing the hussel and bussel to strip the gathering of fun from duty. They are both available. For some reason I missed learning that.
Not "grumping" just reflecting on some pretty important thoughts. What is important today may not even matter tomorrow, infact, it may not even cross our mind. Silly huh?
Well I guess that is just how things are. It is foolish to look back on things that cannot be changed. Better to just keep trudging forward and taking advantage of the things that are happening everyday. Like the song from the movie: "Flower Drum Song" A Hundred Million Miracles Are Happening Everyday. We can't catch them all, but we should be able to take advantage of the better part of the best. Never let even the smallest opportunity pass you by. The Lord wisely gave us one day at a time to fill with as much love and joy as we can pack into it. Wasting time by wishing things were different won't capture the majesty of "time". Only what "we" put into it will make things the way "we" want them to be. Happiness is not a destination, or so I have read, it is about as much as we will allow to come into our lives by our
own effort. Try as I might, I cannot make anyone else Happy. I may influence a short span of time in any given day, but it will not expand on its' own. Come to think of it, neither will I. Take time to smell the roses. Their blooming season is not all that long. Their lasting power may be captured, but the fragrance will never linger with the same intensity once the peak is past. Not without some special care to preserve it.
I'm greatful for memories. Like the fragrance of the rose, they return to mind with such sweetness. They never return with the intensity as they were made, but with enough lingering essence that they are always warming and lovely. We never have too many; and we can never make enough, of that I am sure.
Written this 20 day of January, 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Monday, January 18, 2010
Growing Up Was Hard To Do!?
You know I had to do my growing up when the country was in the throws of a World War. Daily life was pretty par - Dad went to work, Mom ran the house along with joining in all the War effort things that women did to support the War effort, and Me, I went to school everyday and learned how to be an "only child". In normal circumstances that might have been a rather neat experience. With brothers away fighting the War, it only made being the only one in the house a rather difficult cituation. Dad was seldom home, and Mom rather found herself more envoloved with outside things than with me. Now that I think on it, I guess she felt I had a great enough life. After all, I had a Dad, and she had never had one. Strange looking back on it now. She was really rather lonely, even lonelier than I was. I remember one night when Dad came home early enough to do something with us, he decided to take us to a show. When he suggested it, Mom turned to him and said: "do we have to take her". I piped up with: "Oh, I could'nt go, I promised Lida and Howard I would come over to the plunge and help pass out towels tonight." Well, that was not really the truth, but I needed to help Dad with an awkward cituation. Turned out when I went to the plunge, Lida and Howard had meetings to attend, and they didn't need me that evening. I don't remember what I did, but it was a very lonely evening for me. I guess I was about 14 at the time. Believe this was the first time I leaned what growing up was all about. You
learn how to make difficult things for someone you love a little better.
I'm not sure if this was the begining of my thinking about what "growing up" ment or not. I do know that I soon learned I had to be independent, and stand on my own two feet. Maybe even face disappointment head on and not look for anyone to smooth things over for me. There really wasn't anyone there to do it.
Dad and I had a talk about it later. He told me Mom was having a hard time with both the boys
away, and the concern they might not come home, or if they did they might be hurt. I learned just how that makes a Mother feel when I had a son in similar circumstances. Men don't handle those things in the same way, and if a husband has served in a War, he is even less likely to feel the same concerns a Mother does. As Jay was quick to tell me: "hey I got through it". Being on a Ship in the middle of the ocean didn't seem to paint the picture I had in mind of my son dropping out of a helicopter on a rope over a jungle that could hide a sniper with a scope on the end of a rifle. Then I believe I was better prepared for such things because I had been raised in a wholesome family that loved each other (on occasion) and cared deeply about each others welfare.
I was 12 when Pearl Harbor happened - I was 17 when the War ended and my brothers came home. Those were some pretty difficult years for me. Growing up with all the outward pressures as well as all the ones that every young person goes through. Both Ron and Ralph complained I dressed like an "old woman". Which now I take to mean that I had grown up too fast. Then they had missed all the in between changes that had taken place. What was even more alarming to them was I was talking about joining the Lady Marines when I graduated. You would have thought I was offering to join a "house of ill repute" the way they both carried on.
I don't know I gave up the idea, rather I was too scared to follow through from all the horror stories they had to tell about women in the service. I am sure now that some of that was true, but I am just a sure there were others who served without all the ugliness. Well, I never found out so that is the end of that!
I guess my biggest concern was how I would ever find someone to marry. I didn't date much, in fact I had been going steady during my Sophomore thru early Senior years at High School. Same guy. In fact we even got engaged before he left for the Navy after his graduation. My Mom wasn't happy about it, but then I didn't seem to do much to make her happy back then. Dad didn't say much. It was long after that I learned the guy's (Bill) parents had come to the house while I was away and told my folks they wanted the engagement ended, and as much as told my parents it was their job to see it happened. I don't know why this was never discussed with me. Maybe because they had a similar incident with Willetta's parents after she and Ron ran away and eloped after he came back from the War. Of little consequence. His family did a great job of seeing things went their way - I am eternally greatful it work out that way.
I won't get into detail about all of this. Just a short overview. I was attending High School half a day and working half a day in my Senior year. There was still a shortage of workers, and I had a good paying job. I didn't need the credits two more classes would have given me, so I had a work permit. Bill would write he needed money, the Navy didn't pay enough. I was saving for a Wedding Dress, but would rob the fund to send him an extra $20.00 every once in awhile to help out. (Generous, Stupid and supposedly in Love). One afternoon I got a phone call from Bill's grandmother. She was a great lady and his grandfather a neat old man. They invited me over the next week-end for a visit. I was thrilled. When I got there they explained they had waited until Bill's parents were out of the house, they lived with them at the time. Grandma explained to me she felt I was being "used" and it was not "fair". She showed me a letter that had come to Bill's parents the week before and told me they had sat and laughed about what was in it. She wasn't usually a snope, but it got her interest, and concern up, so she looked for the letter. When she read it she was really upset. Needless to say, so was I when I read it. It seems the money I had so generously sent was used to take other girls out. He was having a blast! I didn't stay long after I read the letter. Grandma Huffman told me she thought I was too nice a girl and was being faithful to be treated so badly. You know, I thought so too.
By the time I had arrived back at my house, I was really boiling and had plenty of steam up to set down and write a hugh letter. Needless to say, I was not engaged when I finished. Oh, within a week I got a very "sweet" letter from Bill trying to explain away the whole thing, but it feel on very deaf ears. I spent the last part of my Senior Year attending everything "stag". Not a fun way to end your School Years. Not a good way to find out about how rotten some people are, or can be. The lesson was not wasted on me. When the dating started after I graduated and went to work full time, I was careful on whom I spent my time with.
I met Jay some months later, we were matched from that first date. I had found my
"Mr. Right" and lived if not happily ever after, as happy as I deserved to be. Bill? Well he came around when he got out of the Navy and tried to pick up where he thought he had left off. He knew I had married, but in the conversation he assured me that didn't make any difference (rather big of him I thought). I could get a divorce and we would get married. I don't know why he thought at the time I looked so pale, or was still in my robe and slippers. When I asked him: "what will we do with what is laying on the bed in Mom's bedroom?" He stolled in to see, came back a bit shocked but still had the brass to say: "I'll adopt the baby". Generous to a fault. Of course he was talking about Paul who was then just a few days old. Even more brassey when you think Jay was working on our car in the driveway with Ralph when he came to the house. You know he showed up at my door the morning after his Wedding to another girl and asked why I wasn't at his Wedding. I simply explained: "because I did not received an invitation". My parents and my brother and his wife went. They were all invited. His comment was: "Well, you knew I wanted you there." I said: "apparently Lucille didn't". He came around again when Paul was about 2 years old, I was polite, but just barely. I didn't see him again, fortunately.
Do I wish things would have been different? I am not sure. The constant theme in my life has been peppered with some hard times that made me stand up, take my whacks and move along. I believe the things that made me sensitive were the things I needed to learn to make me a rounded person. I know I am opinionated - that comes from having to stand my ground. I may be wrong, but I have never been so shy that I can't apologizing when I find my error. I believe what I learned the best was everyone has to live their own life. When they make a choice, it is theirs to deal with, bring on what it may. Today it seems people feel they need to be excused from things rather than make the best of them as they are. I don't believe you can change a person. If we take them to begin with, then you have to work through until you work out what ever comes.
Jay had once said he was amased at how envolved I had been in the kids lives when they were at home and how I had stepped aside when they left home. I guess membership in the Church had a lot to do with that. When I put Paul on the airplane to go to Salt Lake and the Mission Home when he was 19, I had a long talk with the Lord on the way back from Bakersfield. The Lord had loaned him to me for 19 years, now I was turning him back to have the Lord work with him for 2 years. What I sent away was a boy, what the Lord would deliver back would be a man. And so it was. He was a "free agent". Owner of his own stewardship. My influence was what it ever would be. The ground work done, I needed to be graceful and "let go". Yes, growing up is hard to do, but a necessary part of being a Mother or Father for that matter. Maybe that is why Father in Heaven allows us to be Grand Mothers and Grand Fathers. We can oversee the growth of another generation and learn we are no longer the leaders just merely interested by standers. The distance is even greater as Great Grand Parents. The love is there, but the responsibility even thinner than with the original models.
I think the change with daughters is they have a new man to take up the responsibilities a Dad had. Mothers are more romantic and look to all the things a daughter has in store. A Dad lets his "little girl" go. Hard not to be envolved, but the time to let go even for "dear old dad". You know I am not sure we ever finish growing up. Maybe that is what this life is all about. Taking each stage as it come in life and making the best of what we have. Maybe that is why as Latter-day-Saints we are blessed with an eternal plan, a plan of happiness. Growing in each stage as to who we are, what we will eventually be, and staying glued to the truth. I can only fail if I don't set my own goals and keep working toward those set of goals. "When I was a child, I thought as a child", you know I am in the last stage of this great adventure that started on the 7th day of February way back there in 1929. I needed to "grow up" I certainly have "grown old". What a shame if I have missed the one thing that will "lead me into life eternal" by not realizing how important "growing up" fit into the entire plan Father has laid out for us. There are those who have found wealth wasn't enough to give true happiness. Others who have learned "stuff" is not enough even the lack of it is not the cause of misery. Our misery comes from not making the most of what ever it is that we do have. I know I speak only for myself when I say Jay and I were just about as happy as we ever were when we were in that duplex that had a murphy bed that pulled down in the living room; as ever we have been in the nicest place we ever owned. It was a $12.50 a week small furnished (and not too well at that) apartment, but we had our own home, we were a family and we worked out the good and the bad along with the little purse we worked with. Were there better times? You bet! Were there hard times? Absolutely! Would I change any of it? NO! I still remember what it was like doing our first shopping for staples when we got married. Little money so some real sacrifices had to be made. What changes took place when we had our first child. Two kids trying to settle into being responsible for a little one. The loss of our first home and an auto accident that nearly cost me my life. Months of recovery, many surgeries resulted. There isn't a thing we "grew up doing" that I regret or would alter. We grew together in all that "growing up". You know when Jay got sick those last years, I did not want to let anyone else care for him. He had been my "care giver" my "supporter" my "friend" my "lover". His hands had earned a living, provided me with a home, food and clothing. I could never repay him for the things he had given or had done for me. It was my privilege to do what ever was necessary to make him comfortable. When his mind was no long clear. When he didn't know me and said some pretty hard things, I quickly apologized for not meeting his expectations, he had never failed to meet mine. I guess what I am trying to say is life is good. I have been blessed. I am not sure that I will have the blessing of a "forever family", not because I haven't tried to earn one, but because I do not have the final say in the matter. It is not what we desire that brings a desired result, no, it is what we have earned along our "growing up" years that will determine that. We don't make out the report cards here. We only do the lessons, hand in our examination papers along the way and receive the "grade" when we pass beyond the vail. I am so happy to have had the opportunities that have come my way. The hard knocks have raised a bump or two, here and there, I don't notice any of that now. I just know so far, I have enjoyed the journey - yes, every bit of it. I'm still not sure I am "grown up" however. Maybe I never will be. I'm not even sure if that matters. I do know however that it is important that we don't wait on the "other guy" to make the difference. "I will only pass this way but once" if I miss this opportunity, it will not knock again. I have a dear friend who never passed an opportunity to tell me that he loved me. He has alzheimers now and I may never be able to hear him say that again, but I will never stop knowing that he really does love me. He may be changed, but that one fact is "forever". A Mission friend who has a wonderful wife who shared her wonderful husband with me those many months we served together. You know he was noted in the Mission for making everyones day with his expressing his love to everyone he met. He ment it, and we all knew it.
I am content in knowing I have been diligent in trying to meet the challenges and overcoming the discomforts in my life. In this twilight time, my deepest wishes are that I may finish the journey with a smile on my face, a song in my heart and hope the future will find me in the company of those whom I love most dearly.
Written this 18th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
learn how to make difficult things for someone you love a little better.
I'm not sure if this was the begining of my thinking about what "growing up" ment or not. I do know that I soon learned I had to be independent, and stand on my own two feet. Maybe even face disappointment head on and not look for anyone to smooth things over for me. There really wasn't anyone there to do it.
Dad and I had a talk about it later. He told me Mom was having a hard time with both the boys
away, and the concern they might not come home, or if they did they might be hurt. I learned just how that makes a Mother feel when I had a son in similar circumstances. Men don't handle those things in the same way, and if a husband has served in a War, he is even less likely to feel the same concerns a Mother does. As Jay was quick to tell me: "hey I got through it". Being on a Ship in the middle of the ocean didn't seem to paint the picture I had in mind of my son dropping out of a helicopter on a rope over a jungle that could hide a sniper with a scope on the end of a rifle. Then I believe I was better prepared for such things because I had been raised in a wholesome family that loved each other (on occasion) and cared deeply about each others welfare.
I was 12 when Pearl Harbor happened - I was 17 when the War ended and my brothers came home. Those were some pretty difficult years for me. Growing up with all the outward pressures as well as all the ones that every young person goes through. Both Ron and Ralph complained I dressed like an "old woman". Which now I take to mean that I had grown up too fast. Then they had missed all the in between changes that had taken place. What was even more alarming to them was I was talking about joining the Lady Marines when I graduated. You would have thought I was offering to join a "house of ill repute" the way they both carried on.
I don't know I gave up the idea, rather I was too scared to follow through from all the horror stories they had to tell about women in the service. I am sure now that some of that was true, but I am just a sure there were others who served without all the ugliness. Well, I never found out so that is the end of that!
I guess my biggest concern was how I would ever find someone to marry. I didn't date much, in fact I had been going steady during my Sophomore thru early Senior years at High School. Same guy. In fact we even got engaged before he left for the Navy after his graduation. My Mom wasn't happy about it, but then I didn't seem to do much to make her happy back then. Dad didn't say much. It was long after that I learned the guy's (Bill) parents had come to the house while I was away and told my folks they wanted the engagement ended, and as much as told my parents it was their job to see it happened. I don't know why this was never discussed with me. Maybe because they had a similar incident with Willetta's parents after she and Ron ran away and eloped after he came back from the War. Of little consequence. His family did a great job of seeing things went their way - I am eternally greatful it work out that way.
I won't get into detail about all of this. Just a short overview. I was attending High School half a day and working half a day in my Senior year. There was still a shortage of workers, and I had a good paying job. I didn't need the credits two more classes would have given me, so I had a work permit. Bill would write he needed money, the Navy didn't pay enough. I was saving for a Wedding Dress, but would rob the fund to send him an extra $20.00 every once in awhile to help out. (Generous, Stupid and supposedly in Love). One afternoon I got a phone call from Bill's grandmother. She was a great lady and his grandfather a neat old man. They invited me over the next week-end for a visit. I was thrilled. When I got there they explained they had waited until Bill's parents were out of the house, they lived with them at the time. Grandma explained to me she felt I was being "used" and it was not "fair". She showed me a letter that had come to Bill's parents the week before and told me they had sat and laughed about what was in it. She wasn't usually a snope, but it got her interest, and concern up, so she looked for the letter. When she read it she was really upset. Needless to say, so was I when I read it. It seems the money I had so generously sent was used to take other girls out. He was having a blast! I didn't stay long after I read the letter. Grandma Huffman told me she thought I was too nice a girl and was being faithful to be treated so badly. You know, I thought so too.
By the time I had arrived back at my house, I was really boiling and had plenty of steam up to set down and write a hugh letter. Needless to say, I was not engaged when I finished. Oh, within a week I got a very "sweet" letter from Bill trying to explain away the whole thing, but it feel on very deaf ears. I spent the last part of my Senior Year attending everything "stag". Not a fun way to end your School Years. Not a good way to find out about how rotten some people are, or can be. The lesson was not wasted on me. When the dating started after I graduated and went to work full time, I was careful on whom I spent my time with.
I met Jay some months later, we were matched from that first date. I had found my
"Mr. Right" and lived if not happily ever after, as happy as I deserved to be. Bill? Well he came around when he got out of the Navy and tried to pick up where he thought he had left off. He knew I had married, but in the conversation he assured me that didn't make any difference (rather big of him I thought). I could get a divorce and we would get married. I don't know why he thought at the time I looked so pale, or was still in my robe and slippers. When I asked him: "what will we do with what is laying on the bed in Mom's bedroom?" He stolled in to see, came back a bit shocked but still had the brass to say: "I'll adopt the baby". Generous to a fault. Of course he was talking about Paul who was then just a few days old. Even more brassey when you think Jay was working on our car in the driveway with Ralph when he came to the house. You know he showed up at my door the morning after his Wedding to another girl and asked why I wasn't at his Wedding. I simply explained: "because I did not received an invitation". My parents and my brother and his wife went. They were all invited. His comment was: "Well, you knew I wanted you there." I said: "apparently Lucille didn't". He came around again when Paul was about 2 years old, I was polite, but just barely. I didn't see him again, fortunately.
Do I wish things would have been different? I am not sure. The constant theme in my life has been peppered with some hard times that made me stand up, take my whacks and move along. I believe the things that made me sensitive were the things I needed to learn to make me a rounded person. I know I am opinionated - that comes from having to stand my ground. I may be wrong, but I have never been so shy that I can't apologizing when I find my error. I believe what I learned the best was everyone has to live their own life. When they make a choice, it is theirs to deal with, bring on what it may. Today it seems people feel they need to be excused from things rather than make the best of them as they are. I don't believe you can change a person. If we take them to begin with, then you have to work through until you work out what ever comes.
Jay had once said he was amased at how envolved I had been in the kids lives when they were at home and how I had stepped aside when they left home. I guess membership in the Church had a lot to do with that. When I put Paul on the airplane to go to Salt Lake and the Mission Home when he was 19, I had a long talk with the Lord on the way back from Bakersfield. The Lord had loaned him to me for 19 years, now I was turning him back to have the Lord work with him for 2 years. What I sent away was a boy, what the Lord would deliver back would be a man. And so it was. He was a "free agent". Owner of his own stewardship. My influence was what it ever would be. The ground work done, I needed to be graceful and "let go". Yes, growing up is hard to do, but a necessary part of being a Mother or Father for that matter. Maybe that is why Father in Heaven allows us to be Grand Mothers and Grand Fathers. We can oversee the growth of another generation and learn we are no longer the leaders just merely interested by standers. The distance is even greater as Great Grand Parents. The love is there, but the responsibility even thinner than with the original models.
I think the change with daughters is they have a new man to take up the responsibilities a Dad had. Mothers are more romantic and look to all the things a daughter has in store. A Dad lets his "little girl" go. Hard not to be envolved, but the time to let go even for "dear old dad". You know I am not sure we ever finish growing up. Maybe that is what this life is all about. Taking each stage as it come in life and making the best of what we have. Maybe that is why as Latter-day-Saints we are blessed with an eternal plan, a plan of happiness. Growing in each stage as to who we are, what we will eventually be, and staying glued to the truth. I can only fail if I don't set my own goals and keep working toward those set of goals. "When I was a child, I thought as a child", you know I am in the last stage of this great adventure that started on the 7th day of February way back there in 1929. I needed to "grow up" I certainly have "grown old". What a shame if I have missed the one thing that will "lead me into life eternal" by not realizing how important "growing up" fit into the entire plan Father has laid out for us. There are those who have found wealth wasn't enough to give true happiness. Others who have learned "stuff" is not enough even the lack of it is not the cause of misery. Our misery comes from not making the most of what ever it is that we do have. I know I speak only for myself when I say Jay and I were just about as happy as we ever were when we were in that duplex that had a murphy bed that pulled down in the living room; as ever we have been in the nicest place we ever owned. It was a $12.50 a week small furnished (and not too well at that) apartment, but we had our own home, we were a family and we worked out the good and the bad along with the little purse we worked with. Were there better times? You bet! Were there hard times? Absolutely! Would I change any of it? NO! I still remember what it was like doing our first shopping for staples when we got married. Little money so some real sacrifices had to be made. What changes took place when we had our first child. Two kids trying to settle into being responsible for a little one. The loss of our first home and an auto accident that nearly cost me my life. Months of recovery, many surgeries resulted. There isn't a thing we "grew up doing" that I regret or would alter. We grew together in all that "growing up". You know when Jay got sick those last years, I did not want to let anyone else care for him. He had been my "care giver" my "supporter" my "friend" my "lover". His hands had earned a living, provided me with a home, food and clothing. I could never repay him for the things he had given or had done for me. It was my privilege to do what ever was necessary to make him comfortable. When his mind was no long clear. When he didn't know me and said some pretty hard things, I quickly apologized for not meeting his expectations, he had never failed to meet mine. I guess what I am trying to say is life is good. I have been blessed. I am not sure that I will have the blessing of a "forever family", not because I haven't tried to earn one, but because I do not have the final say in the matter. It is not what we desire that brings a desired result, no, it is what we have earned along our "growing up" years that will determine that. We don't make out the report cards here. We only do the lessons, hand in our examination papers along the way and receive the "grade" when we pass beyond the vail. I am so happy to have had the opportunities that have come my way. The hard knocks have raised a bump or two, here and there, I don't notice any of that now. I just know so far, I have enjoyed the journey - yes, every bit of it. I'm still not sure I am "grown up" however. Maybe I never will be. I'm not even sure if that matters. I do know however that it is important that we don't wait on the "other guy" to make the difference. "I will only pass this way but once" if I miss this opportunity, it will not knock again. I have a dear friend who never passed an opportunity to tell me that he loved me. He has alzheimers now and I may never be able to hear him say that again, but I will never stop knowing that he really does love me. He may be changed, but that one fact is "forever". A Mission friend who has a wonderful wife who shared her wonderful husband with me those many months we served together. You know he was noted in the Mission for making everyones day with his expressing his love to everyone he met. He ment it, and we all knew it.
I am content in knowing I have been diligent in trying to meet the challenges and overcoming the discomforts in my life. In this twilight time, my deepest wishes are that I may finish the journey with a smile on my face, a song in my heart and hope the future will find me in the company of those whom I love most dearly.
Written this 18th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Sunday, January 17, 2010
I Love Elder Hostels
You know I found out about Elder Hostels while reading a Readers Digest. It took some checking to find out how to go to one. Now I know all I have to do is go to the Local Library, and they have one of their current cataloges on file. If you don't know about them, let me tell you!
Almost every college anywhere offers Elder Hostels. You just have to find one that is offering a subject you are interested in. Jay and I went to Utah for our first experience. We stayed at Dixie College and studied Ghost Towns of Southern Utah. We learned all about the Movies that were made in the area and heard stories about John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara and Susan Hayward when they were in St George, Utah making movies. We slept in the Dormatory and held some of the classes in the College itself. We had an old fashioned Dutch Oven Dinner in the Park and visited one of the Pioneer Grave Yards. We had some fabulous meals and great people to enjoy all the activities with. The price was right, and we could drive.
We met a women from Pennsylvania who had flown in. She had all her "stuff" in a duffle bag and had hiked down carrying it on her shoulder from the hilltop airport. She picked her Elder Hostels starting from the furtherest point from her home and then made her way back by attending different programs across the US until she returned home. She told us she rarely had to find a way from one appointment to the next. There always seemed to be someone who would offer her a ride. I'd say she was in her early 60's. Sure enough at the end of our classes, one of the gentlemen in the group was going to a college further East and would be happy to drop her off on his way to his next Hostel, which just happened to be for a band. Everyone would bring their own instrument, work with all the other Hostelers and for their finale they would put on a concert for the locals. He had gone to France and did a bicycle tour once. There doesn't seem to be an end of possiblities.
You rarely find someone like us just starting out. Most in the groups have done 20 or more. I believe Jay and I would have continued if his health had not failed so rapidly. We both enjoyed them. Always picking one that we could drive to. I think the most memorable one was in Trinidad Colorado. We went to learn about the Santa Fe Trail. The man who made the weeks
Class schedule was aging and they weren't sure just how much longer he would be able to do it.
I never saw it advertised after we went, so I guess he gave up. Our meals were prepared by the Marriott Hotel in town. What a feast that turned out to be. The housing was in the Dorms and the bathroom was on the second floor while we were on the first floor. Not all the helpful.
We learned how to make adobe bricks on this one. Not of great use, but darned interesting.
We went to Sadona, Arizona and studied the Hopi Indians and the forest and desert of the area.
We stayed in a Motel for this one and ate in a resturant. We went to Placerville, CA and leaned all about the Gold Rush. It was on this one we heard about a man who had been a very interest-
ing character back in those "good old days". His name was the same as one of the men Jay had served with on board the LSM330. I wrote to him after we had come home and asked if he knew this man. He wrote back and said yes, he was his Great Grand Father. He hadn't heard any of the stories and had no pictures of the old gentleman. I sent him the names and addresses of the people who had put on the seminar so he could get a copy of the information and a picture
for his records. We went to the State Fair Grounds and learned about the work being done there. They were extracting all the medical records they found for genealogy and had boxes of pictures they had gathered. Inviting anyone interested to go through and see if they could recognize any of them. Most had no identification. What a loss if they could not tell who all those gold rush people were.
We went to Kingman, Arizona and attended there. Geology, rock hounding, etc. We went to Oatman and saw the wild donkeys. When the miners died or gave up their prospecting, they just left their animals wander and they have multiplied and pretty well taken over that town.
We talked up Hosteling and a couple of the LSM 330 joined in and went to Europe to do things in England. Easy for them, they are retired Naval Officers and have travel availablity.
I think we made 7 before we had to quit. I would love to go again. You don't have to have a partner, if you don't mind paying for a single, or if you wouldn't mind sharing, you can take a chance of a partner. Either way, it is a fun way to learn, and see some of the country as well. Just about anything you would find of interest is offered somewhere. You can even go on a Safari if your brave and don't mind taking all the shots required.
Oh, you have to be a Senior Citizen to take advantage of this. Something for you younger folks to put on the back burner and try out when you are fortunate to become "empty nesters".
Oh, something else we learned in Trinidad, Colorado. What the "picket wire" really is. In so many of the Western Movies you hear them talk about the "picket wire". Cattle drives were either East or West of the "picket wire." We were taken to the river outside Trinidad and told the story about a group of French Soldiers who were killed by Indians as they camped by the River. There after it was named the "Pergitory River" and the Westerners couldn't pronounce the name like the French - thus it was known as the "picket wire". I thought it was some kind of a fence, but it was a river. So you can learn some pretty interesting things. And we did!
Written this 18th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Almost every college anywhere offers Elder Hostels. You just have to find one that is offering a subject you are interested in. Jay and I went to Utah for our first experience. We stayed at Dixie College and studied Ghost Towns of Southern Utah. We learned all about the Movies that were made in the area and heard stories about John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara and Susan Hayward when they were in St George, Utah making movies. We slept in the Dormatory and held some of the classes in the College itself. We had an old fashioned Dutch Oven Dinner in the Park and visited one of the Pioneer Grave Yards. We had some fabulous meals and great people to enjoy all the activities with. The price was right, and we could drive.
We met a women from Pennsylvania who had flown in. She had all her "stuff" in a duffle bag and had hiked down carrying it on her shoulder from the hilltop airport. She picked her Elder Hostels starting from the furtherest point from her home and then made her way back by attending different programs across the US until she returned home. She told us she rarely had to find a way from one appointment to the next. There always seemed to be someone who would offer her a ride. I'd say she was in her early 60's. Sure enough at the end of our classes, one of the gentlemen in the group was going to a college further East and would be happy to drop her off on his way to his next Hostel, which just happened to be for a band. Everyone would bring their own instrument, work with all the other Hostelers and for their finale they would put on a concert for the locals. He had gone to France and did a bicycle tour once. There doesn't seem to be an end of possiblities.
You rarely find someone like us just starting out. Most in the groups have done 20 or more. I believe Jay and I would have continued if his health had not failed so rapidly. We both enjoyed them. Always picking one that we could drive to. I think the most memorable one was in Trinidad Colorado. We went to learn about the Santa Fe Trail. The man who made the weeks
Class schedule was aging and they weren't sure just how much longer he would be able to do it.
I never saw it advertised after we went, so I guess he gave up. Our meals were prepared by the Marriott Hotel in town. What a feast that turned out to be. The housing was in the Dorms and the bathroom was on the second floor while we were on the first floor. Not all the helpful.
We learned how to make adobe bricks on this one. Not of great use, but darned interesting.
We went to Sadona, Arizona and studied the Hopi Indians and the forest and desert of the area.
We stayed in a Motel for this one and ate in a resturant. We went to Placerville, CA and leaned all about the Gold Rush. It was on this one we heard about a man who had been a very interest-
ing character back in those "good old days". His name was the same as one of the men Jay had served with on board the LSM330. I wrote to him after we had come home and asked if he knew this man. He wrote back and said yes, he was his Great Grand Father. He hadn't heard any of the stories and had no pictures of the old gentleman. I sent him the names and addresses of the people who had put on the seminar so he could get a copy of the information and a picture
for his records. We went to the State Fair Grounds and learned about the work being done there. They were extracting all the medical records they found for genealogy and had boxes of pictures they had gathered. Inviting anyone interested to go through and see if they could recognize any of them. Most had no identification. What a loss if they could not tell who all those gold rush people were.
We went to Kingman, Arizona and attended there. Geology, rock hounding, etc. We went to Oatman and saw the wild donkeys. When the miners died or gave up their prospecting, they just left their animals wander and they have multiplied and pretty well taken over that town.
We talked up Hosteling and a couple of the LSM 330 joined in and went to Europe to do things in England. Easy for them, they are retired Naval Officers and have travel availablity.
I think we made 7 before we had to quit. I would love to go again. You don't have to have a partner, if you don't mind paying for a single, or if you wouldn't mind sharing, you can take a chance of a partner. Either way, it is a fun way to learn, and see some of the country as well. Just about anything you would find of interest is offered somewhere. You can even go on a Safari if your brave and don't mind taking all the shots required.
Oh, you have to be a Senior Citizen to take advantage of this. Something for you younger folks to put on the back burner and try out when you are fortunate to become "empty nesters".
Oh, something else we learned in Trinidad, Colorado. What the "picket wire" really is. In so many of the Western Movies you hear them talk about the "picket wire". Cattle drives were either East or West of the "picket wire." We were taken to the river outside Trinidad and told the story about a group of French Soldiers who were killed by Indians as they camped by the River. There after it was named the "Pergitory River" and the Westerners couldn't pronounce the name like the French - thus it was known as the "picket wire". I thought it was some kind of a fence, but it was a river. So you can learn some pretty interesting things. And we did!
Written this 18th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
I loved to fly - however, now I believe I'll pass!
I remember the first flight I took. It was when Jay was in San Francisco when he was on the USS Menifee APA 220. He had been assigned to her to get her ready to be recomissioned for use in the Korean Conflict. (They didn't call that one a War to start with). All the wives were invited to attend the ceremony and of course I had to go. The only way to get up there and back was to fly. I had never been off the ground before, and was scared to death the plane would crash. Back then the planes were two seats on each side of the isle and not nearly as nicely outfitted then as they are now. Of course you did have one advantage, they fed you back in those days.
I remember my brother Ralph took me to the Airport in Los Angeles. I was on a flight with TWA. That was the biggest line at the time. Ralph had been a Paratrooper during WWII and jumped out of something much more ventilated than what I was going up in. He was very supportive, but little he said made me feel any safer. I guess I had a lot of Grandma Hall in me. She would'nt even go up in a tower at Gettysberg. Well I got on that plane, and hoped I wouldn't get sick. I was setting next to the window. That can be a good thing, or bad. In this case it was bad! If you have never flown into San Francisco you will not enjoy the thrill it is to land there.
When they announced we were approaching the Airfield and would be landing shortly, I was a bit releived this was about to end. Then I looked out the window. Nothing but water. We came in over the bay, and the approach was "forever". Water, water everywhere. The lower we got the more concerned I was. I just knew we would soon be in the "drink" and though they had given us instructions about a water landing, and where the floatation things were, I wasn't sure I could find it. We kept coming closer and closer to the touch down, with not one piece of tera ferma in sight. Then there was a dry patch, not big, but it was showing signs of ground. By the time I had made up my mind there was something solid down there, I felt the wheels touch down and the plane come to a glide into the terminal.
Here I was in San Francisco. Not one idea of where I was to go, or even how to get there. I guess the Lord was looking our for me, shaking and alone as I was. The first Cab I found had just returned from taking someone else out for the Ceremony. He knew just where I needed to go. When we got to the ship, it was quite a walk, but I managed, high heels and all to get on board. Then there was the sea of sailors - all dressed up in their dress uniforms. Well I knew who the officers were, but finding Jay was another thing. Luckily he saw me first. He wanted to take me down below to show me where he was staying. If you haven't been on a ship, you may not realize how high the step up is to clear the "door ways". I had on a tight skirt, that was not made for such "high stepping". Jay pretty much had to lift me up and over everyone. Then of course there were the stairs. On one of my up or downs, I don't remember which, one of the sailors, and not the one I was married to, pinched me. Jay thought it was funny, I didn't share in his humor.
We returned topside and went through a very boring ceremony. The crew, or at least a good many of them were given "liberty" and we left the ship. Back into town by Cab and then to find some kind of housing for the time we had. What a dingy Hotel we found. It had a shared bath between the rooms. Hardly a "honeymoon suite". The Ceremony was hardly over when it started to rain. It rained every minute I was in San Francisco. My shoes were ruined, and they were new. I was soaked and my hair was dripping, straight, and a mess. Just what you want when you haven't seen your husband for 3 months.
We found a little bar down the street from the Hotel. It had a huge couch and a wonderful fireplace. We sat in front of that fire and talked and enjoyed the atmosphere of the place. Jay had a couple of drinks, I wasn't much of a drinker, so I had "shirley temples". All in all it was great to see Jay again, but the town and the weather were horrible. I hate San Francisco. Every time I have had to go to that town it has rained.
Well to end this "first flight" experience. Jay took me to the Airport and we said goodbye and I got on that airplane, not AS apprehensive as when I left Los Angeles, but I wasn't anxious to look out the window for the take off I can tell you. I took an isle seat for that one.
I flew a great many times after that, and loved it. Take off, landing, the works. Of course that was when they treated you like you had paid for your ticket and they were interested in you repeating the deal. When they had 911 everyone was afraid to go up in airplanes for awhile. I had planned a re-union for the LSM330 in Tampa, Florida. I had asked my brother Ronald to go with me. He had done so much work on the Book of Remembrance for the 50th get together, and all the men wanted to meet him. Jays health wasn't good at the time. Paul offered to take care of his Dad and Ronald said he would meet me.
Little did either of us know what we had in store for us. Meeting was not one of those things still allowed. Normally, his plane arriving well before mine, he could come and meet me when I got off my flight. NO that was not allowed. The terminal was in a mess. National Guard everywhere with their guns, etc. Lines checking in and trying to find ther connections. I was able to get a page for Ronald. He paged back that he would meet me at a shuttle station. We would join up there so we could get our rental car and get to the Hotel in Tampa. It was a hair raising experience to say the least, but I felt safe flying. After all it had only been a month, and I was sure they wouldn't try anything that soon after 911.
Ronald saw me before I saw him. We were able to get a phone to make arrangements to have someone pick us up to get a car. They were not allowing cars to come into the terminal where we got out. We waited for the pickup car and then went to the Rental Office. By now I was not sure any of this had been such a good idea. We were able to get a car, by now it is dark, neither Ron or I had been in this part of the country before. We got directions to the road we needed to take to get to our destination. Not too short of a drive either, I can tell you.
Something interesting about the Florida Freeways. They don't have that many off ramps. If you miss the one you are looking for, like us, you may have to travel 20 miles to find the next one. Well we finally found an offramp, a mini market, and a Arab that could hardly speak so we knew what he was telling us. Between the two of us we got enough information to find our way back the way we had traveled to the off ramp we needed. Of course I turned right when I should have turned left. When we didn't find the Hotel we were to meet the rest of the group at,
we decided we should turn around. We found a well lite bank parking lot, rechecked our map and headed back the way we had come. Still no Hotel. By now I am tired, and in my usual less that happy mode. It was time to get gas. I spoted a gas station and decided we should stop and
make a phone call. Maybe they could tell me where I was and how to get to where they were.
As I am pumping the gas I chance to look up and see the Hotel across the street. It was not on
the main drag, but on a secondary road just beyond the gas station. I never would have seen it if we hadn't decided to stop get gas and call.
Following the reunion (which was great) Ronald and I drove down to where our cousin Betty Hall Davis and her family had retired to. We had a great two day visit with them before we had to drive back to Orlando for our flights home. We had made arrangements for a Hotel across from the Airport for our last night in Florida. We returned the car just a few blocks from the Hotel and they took us to meet our flights. Ron was dropped off first and then I was left at the terminal for my departure. The same scene I had witnessed coming in was before me as I was trying to leave. Long lines trying to have your ID checked, your baggage gone through and your clearance to find where your plane was leaving. None of those terminals are small. I made it through all the check points and returned home in fair shape.
I have gone a time or two since, but find the hassel with security and baggage was a bit much. I got tired of people dragging their bags on the plane because they didn't want to check them through. Now if you don't drag a small bag, you have to pay for checking baggage. NO I think I will pass on Air Travel except for short hops. I'm too old to hussle to get from one connection to another, or to drag a bag, or try to put what I will need in somethings small enough I don't have to take too big a bag. Driving may take longer, but you know, I can get some thing to eat when I am hungry and go to the bathroom when I need to without waiting my turn. If I want a bottle of water, or some juice to drink I can get a full portion from a mini mart while I gas up. None of this 1/4 can of pop for what they charge. The last time I left Chicago Airport, I wasn't going to get a meal. If you wanted to eat, you had to bring it on board. I am not sure they will even allow that anymore.
Well it really doesn't matter. I doubt I get further away from home than where the girls are living now, and we can drive there. I do love going on the train. It is kind of nostalgic to climb on a train and have a compartment where you can kick back and not have someone breathing down your neck. Yes, I believe I'll pass on the flying. All the fun it was and the great times I had are no longer out there to enjoy. Security has turned into a personal nightmare. I don't have anything to hide, but I sure don't care to have everything I want to use while I am away from home to be checked, double checked or questioned. After all - I travel for pleasure, and there is very little pleasure in what goes on these days.
Written this 17th of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
I remember my brother Ralph took me to the Airport in Los Angeles. I was on a flight with TWA. That was the biggest line at the time. Ralph had been a Paratrooper during WWII and jumped out of something much more ventilated than what I was going up in. He was very supportive, but little he said made me feel any safer. I guess I had a lot of Grandma Hall in me. She would'nt even go up in a tower at Gettysberg. Well I got on that plane, and hoped I wouldn't get sick. I was setting next to the window. That can be a good thing, or bad. In this case it was bad! If you have never flown into San Francisco you will not enjoy the thrill it is to land there.
When they announced we were approaching the Airfield and would be landing shortly, I was a bit releived this was about to end. Then I looked out the window. Nothing but water. We came in over the bay, and the approach was "forever". Water, water everywhere. The lower we got the more concerned I was. I just knew we would soon be in the "drink" and though they had given us instructions about a water landing, and where the floatation things were, I wasn't sure I could find it. We kept coming closer and closer to the touch down, with not one piece of tera ferma in sight. Then there was a dry patch, not big, but it was showing signs of ground. By the time I had made up my mind there was something solid down there, I felt the wheels touch down and the plane come to a glide into the terminal.
Here I was in San Francisco. Not one idea of where I was to go, or even how to get there. I guess the Lord was looking our for me, shaking and alone as I was. The first Cab I found had just returned from taking someone else out for the Ceremony. He knew just where I needed to go. When we got to the ship, it was quite a walk, but I managed, high heels and all to get on board. Then there was the sea of sailors - all dressed up in their dress uniforms. Well I knew who the officers were, but finding Jay was another thing. Luckily he saw me first. He wanted to take me down below to show me where he was staying. If you haven't been on a ship, you may not realize how high the step up is to clear the "door ways". I had on a tight skirt, that was not made for such "high stepping". Jay pretty much had to lift me up and over everyone. Then of course there were the stairs. On one of my up or downs, I don't remember which, one of the sailors, and not the one I was married to, pinched me. Jay thought it was funny, I didn't share in his humor.
We returned topside and went through a very boring ceremony. The crew, or at least a good many of them were given "liberty" and we left the ship. Back into town by Cab and then to find some kind of housing for the time we had. What a dingy Hotel we found. It had a shared bath between the rooms. Hardly a "honeymoon suite". The Ceremony was hardly over when it started to rain. It rained every minute I was in San Francisco. My shoes were ruined, and they were new. I was soaked and my hair was dripping, straight, and a mess. Just what you want when you haven't seen your husband for 3 months.
We found a little bar down the street from the Hotel. It had a huge couch and a wonderful fireplace. We sat in front of that fire and talked and enjoyed the atmosphere of the place. Jay had a couple of drinks, I wasn't much of a drinker, so I had "shirley temples". All in all it was great to see Jay again, but the town and the weather were horrible. I hate San Francisco. Every time I have had to go to that town it has rained.
Well to end this "first flight" experience. Jay took me to the Airport and we said goodbye and I got on that airplane, not AS apprehensive as when I left Los Angeles, but I wasn't anxious to look out the window for the take off I can tell you. I took an isle seat for that one.
I flew a great many times after that, and loved it. Take off, landing, the works. Of course that was when they treated you like you had paid for your ticket and they were interested in you repeating the deal. When they had 911 everyone was afraid to go up in airplanes for awhile. I had planned a re-union for the LSM330 in Tampa, Florida. I had asked my brother Ronald to go with me. He had done so much work on the Book of Remembrance for the 50th get together, and all the men wanted to meet him. Jays health wasn't good at the time. Paul offered to take care of his Dad and Ronald said he would meet me.
Little did either of us know what we had in store for us. Meeting was not one of those things still allowed. Normally, his plane arriving well before mine, he could come and meet me when I got off my flight. NO that was not allowed. The terminal was in a mess. National Guard everywhere with their guns, etc. Lines checking in and trying to find ther connections. I was able to get a page for Ronald. He paged back that he would meet me at a shuttle station. We would join up there so we could get our rental car and get to the Hotel in Tampa. It was a hair raising experience to say the least, but I felt safe flying. After all it had only been a month, and I was sure they wouldn't try anything that soon after 911.
Ronald saw me before I saw him. We were able to get a phone to make arrangements to have someone pick us up to get a car. They were not allowing cars to come into the terminal where we got out. We waited for the pickup car and then went to the Rental Office. By now I was not sure any of this had been such a good idea. We were able to get a car, by now it is dark, neither Ron or I had been in this part of the country before. We got directions to the road we needed to take to get to our destination. Not too short of a drive either, I can tell you.
Something interesting about the Florida Freeways. They don't have that many off ramps. If you miss the one you are looking for, like us, you may have to travel 20 miles to find the next one. Well we finally found an offramp, a mini market, and a Arab that could hardly speak so we knew what he was telling us. Between the two of us we got enough information to find our way back the way we had traveled to the off ramp we needed. Of course I turned right when I should have turned left. When we didn't find the Hotel we were to meet the rest of the group at,
we decided we should turn around. We found a well lite bank parking lot, rechecked our map and headed back the way we had come. Still no Hotel. By now I am tired, and in my usual less that happy mode. It was time to get gas. I spoted a gas station and decided we should stop and
make a phone call. Maybe they could tell me where I was and how to get to where they were.
As I am pumping the gas I chance to look up and see the Hotel across the street. It was not on
the main drag, but on a secondary road just beyond the gas station. I never would have seen it if we hadn't decided to stop get gas and call.
Following the reunion (which was great) Ronald and I drove down to where our cousin Betty Hall Davis and her family had retired to. We had a great two day visit with them before we had to drive back to Orlando for our flights home. We had made arrangements for a Hotel across from the Airport for our last night in Florida. We returned the car just a few blocks from the Hotel and they took us to meet our flights. Ron was dropped off first and then I was left at the terminal for my departure. The same scene I had witnessed coming in was before me as I was trying to leave. Long lines trying to have your ID checked, your baggage gone through and your clearance to find where your plane was leaving. None of those terminals are small. I made it through all the check points and returned home in fair shape.
I have gone a time or two since, but find the hassel with security and baggage was a bit much. I got tired of people dragging their bags on the plane because they didn't want to check them through. Now if you don't drag a small bag, you have to pay for checking baggage. NO I think I will pass on Air Travel except for short hops. I'm too old to hussle to get from one connection to another, or to drag a bag, or try to put what I will need in somethings small enough I don't have to take too big a bag. Driving may take longer, but you know, I can get some thing to eat when I am hungry and go to the bathroom when I need to without waiting my turn. If I want a bottle of water, or some juice to drink I can get a full portion from a mini mart while I gas up. None of this 1/4 can of pop for what they charge. The last time I left Chicago Airport, I wasn't going to get a meal. If you wanted to eat, you had to bring it on board. I am not sure they will even allow that anymore.
Well it really doesn't matter. I doubt I get further away from home than where the girls are living now, and we can drive there. I do love going on the train. It is kind of nostalgic to climb on a train and have a compartment where you can kick back and not have someone breathing down your neck. Yes, I believe I'll pass on the flying. All the fun it was and the great times I had are no longer out there to enjoy. Security has turned into a personal nightmare. I don't have anything to hide, but I sure don't care to have everything I want to use while I am away from home to be checked, double checked or questioned. After all - I travel for pleasure, and there is very little pleasure in what goes on these days.
Written this 17th of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Monday, January 11, 2010
What About Camping?
Yes, what about it! It was one of the favorite things our family did. Our family was started back in 1947, however I don't remember us doing much camping until after 1954 when Dawn joined us. The one time I really remember was when she was about 2 years old or so. We had that little Hilman car. When we started out for the Big Sur camping areas we must have looked like we were moving altogether. That little car was so loaded, I am surprise we even made it up the highway without something breaking down. I suppose that was my doing. I always seemed to pack far more than we needed no matter where we were headed.
We didn't go into a State Camping Area. There were a number of them where we decided to stop, but Jay found this one along the creek. We drove down and set up the Tent. That would be the old one Dad and Mom used when I was little. It smelled of the material that made it waterproof. Nothing like the modern easy to raise tents most folks have these days. Jay set the camp stove up and our other gear. It was a great spot. We could hear the water as it made its way out to the ocean. The beach wasn't much to write home about, but the water was deep enough for us to paddle around in safely, all but Dawn that is.
Paul was playing in the water while Jay laid in the sun. He hadn't planned on swimming, he was just there keeping an eye on Paul. It was warm, he was relaxed, and I was up at the Tent area fixing lunch for the family. Dawn had just been there at the table. I got busy, Jay was by now dozing. We are greatful there were others around. Paul yelled: "No sister". He was too late. She had walked out into shallow enough water for a couple of steps then down she went as the water got too deep for her short legs. Paul was about 7 at the time. He wasn't able to reach her, her Dad was too far, as was I. Thankfully someone dove for her and brought her up sputtering for air. She did not sence the danger, she just wanted to have fun in the water with the rest. For the rest of our time there, she waited until we could hold her before she went into that creek. It was much too deep.
A side note might be worth adding here. Back then, you never saw all the floatation gear so common for todays aquatic kids. You can put a baby into deep water these days with all the gadgets available. Back then, they just were not heard of. Time? Probably 1956 - just before we went to the Temple to be sealed as a family.
The area we camped at was washed out sometime later. There is still camping, but not like we used than. The Cafe by the road is still there. In fact we have stopped a time or two and had lunch while on a trip north. Sad to have lost such a special camp ground. Of course so many of the Camp Grounds now have to be reserved way in advance if you want to spend time. More people now who have desire to enjoy the out of doors than when we were first doing it.
I guess our last and great trips were going to Paradise Point outside Indio, California. Jay had bought a boat and a camper for our pickup. We spent many a wonderful week-end vacation down there. That too is no longer like it was when we went. Floods seem to have come in after we were through with our visits. How fortunate we feel to have had such great experiences. We took friends and families down there to enjoy the water skiing and camping. I wouldn't change one of those trips for anything we could do today. Too many people trying to cram too much into too small a space of time.
I think I will remember the preparations that went into those trips longer than I will all the time we were camping. It was so much fun to figure out what to fix, and what to pack. I always seemed to get eat'n by all the bugs that never seemed to know anyone else was around. I think the "no seeums" at Paradise Point were the worst. I was told afterward if I would have rubbed bacon grease on myself, they would have left me alone. I am not sure I could have stood that remedy either.
On these particular trips we always took the little dogs with us. Sissy and Rusty. It was so hot down there, they would lay around in the grass and were so good. On the trip home, without air conditioning in the pickup, we would wet down towels and lay them on the front seat and cover them with another wet towel. They would have the benefit of the air blowing on the wet towels to keep them comfortable on the journey out of the desert. We did have a water unit that went in the window of the truck, but it was more bother than it was worth. Air Conditioning enjoyed today in all cars, trucks, van, etc. was not an option back then. Just goes to show how many things have improved over the years. If you never did without, you have no idea just how great these things are. As for myself, I wonder how we did it, and then, I am so glad we didn't know any different. We had such great times, and enjoyed nature and the boat so much. It wasn't fancy, but it was sure worth it. Change may be great, but it won't replace the good times we enjoyed as a family in the more rustic camping areas of those days. It wasn't roughing it, but it
certainly was a great deal different than how things are done now.
Written this 11th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
We didn't go into a State Camping Area. There were a number of them where we decided to stop, but Jay found this one along the creek. We drove down and set up the Tent. That would be the old one Dad and Mom used when I was little. It smelled of the material that made it waterproof. Nothing like the modern easy to raise tents most folks have these days. Jay set the camp stove up and our other gear. It was a great spot. We could hear the water as it made its way out to the ocean. The beach wasn't much to write home about, but the water was deep enough for us to paddle around in safely, all but Dawn that is.
Paul was playing in the water while Jay laid in the sun. He hadn't planned on swimming, he was just there keeping an eye on Paul. It was warm, he was relaxed, and I was up at the Tent area fixing lunch for the family. Dawn had just been there at the table. I got busy, Jay was by now dozing. We are greatful there were others around. Paul yelled: "No sister". He was too late. She had walked out into shallow enough water for a couple of steps then down she went as the water got too deep for her short legs. Paul was about 7 at the time. He wasn't able to reach her, her Dad was too far, as was I. Thankfully someone dove for her and brought her up sputtering for air. She did not sence the danger, she just wanted to have fun in the water with the rest. For the rest of our time there, she waited until we could hold her before she went into that creek. It was much too deep.
A side note might be worth adding here. Back then, you never saw all the floatation gear so common for todays aquatic kids. You can put a baby into deep water these days with all the gadgets available. Back then, they just were not heard of. Time? Probably 1956 - just before we went to the Temple to be sealed as a family.
The area we camped at was washed out sometime later. There is still camping, but not like we used than. The Cafe by the road is still there. In fact we have stopped a time or two and had lunch while on a trip north. Sad to have lost such a special camp ground. Of course so many of the Camp Grounds now have to be reserved way in advance if you want to spend time. More people now who have desire to enjoy the out of doors than when we were first doing it.
I guess our last and great trips were going to Paradise Point outside Indio, California. Jay had bought a boat and a camper for our pickup. We spent many a wonderful week-end vacation down there. That too is no longer like it was when we went. Floods seem to have come in after we were through with our visits. How fortunate we feel to have had such great experiences. We took friends and families down there to enjoy the water skiing and camping. I wouldn't change one of those trips for anything we could do today. Too many people trying to cram too much into too small a space of time.
I think I will remember the preparations that went into those trips longer than I will all the time we were camping. It was so much fun to figure out what to fix, and what to pack. I always seemed to get eat'n by all the bugs that never seemed to know anyone else was around. I think the "no seeums" at Paradise Point were the worst. I was told afterward if I would have rubbed bacon grease on myself, they would have left me alone. I am not sure I could have stood that remedy either.
On these particular trips we always took the little dogs with us. Sissy and Rusty. It was so hot down there, they would lay around in the grass and were so good. On the trip home, without air conditioning in the pickup, we would wet down towels and lay them on the front seat and cover them with another wet towel. They would have the benefit of the air blowing on the wet towels to keep them comfortable on the journey out of the desert. We did have a water unit that went in the window of the truck, but it was more bother than it was worth. Air Conditioning enjoyed today in all cars, trucks, van, etc. was not an option back then. Just goes to show how many things have improved over the years. If you never did without, you have no idea just how great these things are. As for myself, I wonder how we did it, and then, I am so glad we didn't know any different. We had such great times, and enjoyed nature and the boat so much. It wasn't fancy, but it was sure worth it. Change may be great, but it won't replace the good times we enjoyed as a family in the more rustic camping areas of those days. It wasn't roughing it, but it
certainly was a great deal different than how things are done now.
Written this 11th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
What Did I Break, and How?
I beleive I went through the leg incident. I was just about 7 years old when that happened. No need to go there again. Then I remembered about my left little finger. I was in the 7th grade at
Gage Junior High School. At recess we were playing Kickball. I never really was very good at sports, well beside swimming and diving that is. I was charging an incoming ball, stuck out my hand and it hit me right on the tip of my little finger. I pulled back my hand, but the damage was already done.
At the end of recess I went to my next class, as I recall it was with Miss Alice Knoff (one of my most favorite teachers in Junior High School). She noticed me, and came over to ask what was the matter. I told her about the accident and she immediately sent me to the office to see the School Nurse. It didn't take her long to evaluate the condition. She called my Mother and I was taken to the Dr. I suppose at that time it was Dr. Ward in Walnut Park, just over the Huntington Park border off Florence Avenue.
I don't recall them doing any x-rays. The Doctor set the finger and put my "pinky" in a splint, and wrapped the finger so the break would heal. I believe it was more painful than the break in my leg. Of course that one did not need to be put back into place. Whatever, I spent a miserable 6 weeks with it. No more PE classes or active recess til the end of the semester as I recall. Needless to say I wasn't anxious to play anyway. Doesn't take much of a slam like that to make one shy of flying kickballs.
Gage Avenue holds a great many memories for me. It was where I was attending when December the 7th happened. I don't believe I shall ever forget the day after. War! At the time none of us realized how long it would last, or just how many changes it would bring into our lives. As bad as it was, we never had to see our homes bombed, or people dead or dying in the streets as they did in Europe. In fact, we as a nation have been overly blessed that any War we have had a part in has never brought the fighting home.
I had my first real "graduation" from Gage Avenue. The first time I experienced the intergration from another school into the group of friends I had made at Pacific Blvd. Elementary School. From a small class to a bigger one. Not that it was all that big really. We ended up with the Winter Class of 1947 having only 93 Students. I believe I have said before, at this time the Los Angeles School System had a two semester schedule. If you came into the 9th grade in January/February you were concidered the Winter Class. If you came into the 9th grad in June/September you were the Summer Class. I started School in Pennsylvania, so was not added by the age standard of California. I started First Grade in California. I had already been in First Grade in Pennsylvania. There was no Kindergarten in either State at that time. Oh, that would have 1938. (ancient I know, but hush!)
The change from Junior High Campus to that of Huntington Park High School was pretty scarey. Of course my house was only two doors from campus and HPHS, so I never had the walk I had before. I could hear the tardy bell and still be in class on time. Because the High School had a Swimming Pool it was best to get your PE class either last period before lunch, or last period of the day. Otherwise, for the girls that is, you had the rest of your classes with wet hair. What a horror that was. Back then any girl wouldn't be caught dead with her wet and straggely. Just goes to show how times and style change. She wouldn't have been caught with her knees showing either. The style then was sweaters and skirts. Penny Loafers or Saddle Oxfords for shoes. Bobby Sox, no bear feet on the sidewalk, or in shoes.
The boys didn't mind their hair being wet, but it was always cut short, and combed neat. They wore Cordaroy pants or slacks. Dress shoes or Basketball shoes, which were leather. Styles for men were pretty classey back then.
I digress - sorry about that. Just got into the time slot, and got lost in thought. Some pretty good memories back then. Been fun looking back!
Written this 11th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Gage Junior High School. At recess we were playing Kickball. I never really was very good at sports, well beside swimming and diving that is. I was charging an incoming ball, stuck out my hand and it hit me right on the tip of my little finger. I pulled back my hand, but the damage was already done.
At the end of recess I went to my next class, as I recall it was with Miss Alice Knoff (one of my most favorite teachers in Junior High School). She noticed me, and came over to ask what was the matter. I told her about the accident and she immediately sent me to the office to see the School Nurse. It didn't take her long to evaluate the condition. She called my Mother and I was taken to the Dr. I suppose at that time it was Dr. Ward in Walnut Park, just over the Huntington Park border off Florence Avenue.
I don't recall them doing any x-rays. The Doctor set the finger and put my "pinky" in a splint, and wrapped the finger so the break would heal. I believe it was more painful than the break in my leg. Of course that one did not need to be put back into place. Whatever, I spent a miserable 6 weeks with it. No more PE classes or active recess til the end of the semester as I recall. Needless to say I wasn't anxious to play anyway. Doesn't take much of a slam like that to make one shy of flying kickballs.
Gage Avenue holds a great many memories for me. It was where I was attending when December the 7th happened. I don't believe I shall ever forget the day after. War! At the time none of us realized how long it would last, or just how many changes it would bring into our lives. As bad as it was, we never had to see our homes bombed, or people dead or dying in the streets as they did in Europe. In fact, we as a nation have been overly blessed that any War we have had a part in has never brought the fighting home.
I had my first real "graduation" from Gage Avenue. The first time I experienced the intergration from another school into the group of friends I had made at Pacific Blvd. Elementary School. From a small class to a bigger one. Not that it was all that big really. We ended up with the Winter Class of 1947 having only 93 Students. I believe I have said before, at this time the Los Angeles School System had a two semester schedule. If you came into the 9th grade in January/February you were concidered the Winter Class. If you came into the 9th grad in June/September you were the Summer Class. I started School in Pennsylvania, so was not added by the age standard of California. I started First Grade in California. I had already been in First Grade in Pennsylvania. There was no Kindergarten in either State at that time. Oh, that would have 1938. (ancient I know, but hush!)
The change from Junior High Campus to that of Huntington Park High School was pretty scarey. Of course my house was only two doors from campus and HPHS, so I never had the walk I had before. I could hear the tardy bell and still be in class on time. Because the High School had a Swimming Pool it was best to get your PE class either last period before lunch, or last period of the day. Otherwise, for the girls that is, you had the rest of your classes with wet hair. What a horror that was. Back then any girl wouldn't be caught dead with her wet and straggely. Just goes to show how times and style change. She wouldn't have been caught with her knees showing either. The style then was sweaters and skirts. Penny Loafers or Saddle Oxfords for shoes. Bobby Sox, no bear feet on the sidewalk, or in shoes.
The boys didn't mind their hair being wet, but it was always cut short, and combed neat. They wore Cordaroy pants or slacks. Dress shoes or Basketball shoes, which were leather. Styles for men were pretty classey back then.
I digress - sorry about that. Just got into the time slot, and got lost in thought. Some pretty good memories back then. Been fun looking back!
Written this 11th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Notes to myself!
As stated previously, I collect thoughts. It started when I was teaching Seminary and has continued to this day. In fact I keep a small notebook in my car and when I see or hear something note worthy, I jot it down. When possible, I try to give credit to the Author. This is not always possible however.
In my gathering I have been known to jot down a thought that passed through my mind. Meant about me. In my sorting the other day I ran across one that has made me stop and think when I was moved to jot it down. For the life of me I can't remember. I guess it isn't really important except to pinpoint it to other things that were happening to and around me at the time.
In life so much takes place that we seldom take time to jot down, or place when the action took place. I guess that is why we are encouraged to keep a journal. We would be amazed, I am sure, if we did take time everyday to keep track of even the simplist things that transpire in our daily life. Oh, I know much is just silly, or mundain, but who knows just who might be touched by setting quietly reading what was such a simple daily happening.
The pioneers were great at doing this. Their jotting has laid before us the trials and delights of enduring the things they went through. In fact it makes us realize just how lucky we are today to live as we do. Yet, how do we know if the things that happen to us today will not be eye openers to future generations? Or what influence our actions may have on those who read what we have so innocently jotted either in a journal, or even on just a piece of paper.
I guess that is what happened to me when I found this piece of paper with one of my "ramblings". I have no idea when it was written. I only know that I was either in a class of some sort, or hearing a talk somewhere, when I was moved to write the few lines on the reverse side of the notes I had been taking.
Do the notes help? At the top of the page is "CTR" written under it: Choose the Right; Continue to Repent and Cherish the Resurrection. After that I wrote Section 105:35, so I looked it up.
"There has been a day of calling, but the time has come for a day of choosing; and let those be chosen that are worthy." with another verse, 41: "Therefore, be faithful; and behold, and lo, I Am with you even unto the end. Even so, Amen."
The word Choices head the next note: "Christ tells Nephi Israel chosen but first HE refined them in the furnace of affliction." 1 Nephi 20:10. Followed by: "Men are free because of their flesh - All things given - which are expedient - they are free to choose." 2 Nephi 2:27 I was amused at the next note: "if you are miserable guess who is working on you?" Doesn't take a Rocket Scientist to answer that question! Then I asked the question: "why are we here?" 2 Nephi 2:25
"Adam fell that man might be; and men are, that they might have joy." I was struck by one word, "might". The way was opened, but the path MUST be chosen! Then Heleman 14:31 (one of my most favorite verses in the BoM: "He hath given unto you that ye might know good from evil, and he hath given unto you that ye might choose life or death; and ye can do good and be restored unto that which is good, or have that which is good restored unto you; or ye can do evil, and have that which is evil restored unto you." with the after thought written down, "Behold Ye Are Free!" Next the last verse in Sec. 37:4 "Behold, here is wisdom, and let every man chosse for himself until I come. Even so. Amen" Final notation: "God never intended to do if for us. God helps those who help themselves." A saying that my Mother told me many times.
On the side margin is penned these words: "God loved us first. He will love us last. We are His hands here. What gets done, we must do!"
Turning the page over written diagonally across the page is this: "I am only one, but if I am unwilling to do my part there is not another who can do what I will not do. Only I can do my job (or calling). I am working out my own salvation. All others are working on their own."
I asked the question: "Who was I until Lowell (Elder Taylor) and Keith (Elder Labrum) knocked on my door in 1952 ?" Then I gave this answer: "One of God's children awaiting the opportunity to grow. Without the choices I have made that have led me here today (?) I could as well have been any lost soul floundering in lifes ways. It is not alone hearing the Gospel, nor even knowing it is true. It is the motivation the Gospel gives that leads the faithful into paths of righteousness and action." Then I wrote: "Faith without works is dead" Followed by: "The invitation is to live!"
If I follow through with CTR I need to: Continue to Research, Continue to Read (the scriptures);
Continue to Remember (my Savior and his Atonement); Continue to Rededicate (my time and talents); Remember to Radiate (the love from the Savior); Contintue to Realize (I Am A Child of God); Remember to Receive (my blessings with a greatful heart); Remember to Redouble (my commitment to my covenants); Remember to Renew (myself with the taking of the Sacrament each week); Remember to Respond (to the Masters call - 'Come Follow Me').
I am greatful for finding this piece of paper with the writtings I cannot recall making, or the place and time when and where they were made. Another opportunity to bring myself into square with the things I both felt and learned at this time. We pass this way but once, it is good to take stock of where we have been, and how we are doing. Enduring to the end is an ongoing process. How well we do will not be measured by any one insident. I am continually inspired by just how wonderful the Plan of Salvation is. What I am to be is truly up to me. I am not sure just how I am doing, but I am ever greatful for the opportunities that come my way. Age does not limit our possiblities, it alters them a bit, but they continue to present themselves. I pray I will always be up to the benefits that they may present.
Written this 9th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
In my gathering I have been known to jot down a thought that passed through my mind. Meant about me. In my sorting the other day I ran across one that has made me stop and think when I was moved to jot it down. For the life of me I can't remember. I guess it isn't really important except to pinpoint it to other things that were happening to and around me at the time.
In life so much takes place that we seldom take time to jot down, or place when the action took place. I guess that is why we are encouraged to keep a journal. We would be amazed, I am sure, if we did take time everyday to keep track of even the simplist things that transpire in our daily life. Oh, I know much is just silly, or mundain, but who knows just who might be touched by setting quietly reading what was such a simple daily happening.
The pioneers were great at doing this. Their jotting has laid before us the trials and delights of enduring the things they went through. In fact it makes us realize just how lucky we are today to live as we do. Yet, how do we know if the things that happen to us today will not be eye openers to future generations? Or what influence our actions may have on those who read what we have so innocently jotted either in a journal, or even on just a piece of paper.
I guess that is what happened to me when I found this piece of paper with one of my "ramblings". I have no idea when it was written. I only know that I was either in a class of some sort, or hearing a talk somewhere, when I was moved to write the few lines on the reverse side of the notes I had been taking.
Do the notes help? At the top of the page is "CTR" written under it: Choose the Right; Continue to Repent and Cherish the Resurrection. After that I wrote Section 105:35, so I looked it up.
"There has been a day of calling, but the time has come for a day of choosing; and let those be chosen that are worthy." with another verse, 41: "Therefore, be faithful; and behold, and lo, I Am with you even unto the end. Even so, Amen."
The word Choices head the next note: "Christ tells Nephi Israel chosen but first HE refined them in the furnace of affliction." 1 Nephi 20:10. Followed by: "Men are free because of their flesh - All things given - which are expedient - they are free to choose." 2 Nephi 2:27 I was amused at the next note: "if you are miserable guess who is working on you?" Doesn't take a Rocket Scientist to answer that question! Then I asked the question: "why are we here?" 2 Nephi 2:25
"Adam fell that man might be; and men are, that they might have joy." I was struck by one word, "might". The way was opened, but the path MUST be chosen! Then Heleman 14:31 (one of my most favorite verses in the BoM: "He hath given unto you that ye might know good from evil, and he hath given unto you that ye might choose life or death; and ye can do good and be restored unto that which is good, or have that which is good restored unto you; or ye can do evil, and have that which is evil restored unto you." with the after thought written down, "Behold Ye Are Free!" Next the last verse in Sec. 37:4 "Behold, here is wisdom, and let every man chosse for himself until I come. Even so. Amen" Final notation: "God never intended to do if for us. God helps those who help themselves." A saying that my Mother told me many times.
On the side margin is penned these words: "God loved us first. He will love us last. We are His hands here. What gets done, we must do!"
Turning the page over written diagonally across the page is this: "I am only one, but if I am unwilling to do my part there is not another who can do what I will not do. Only I can do my job (or calling). I am working out my own salvation. All others are working on their own."
I asked the question: "Who was I until Lowell (Elder Taylor) and Keith (Elder Labrum) knocked on my door in 1952 ?" Then I gave this answer: "One of God's children awaiting the opportunity to grow. Without the choices I have made that have led me here today (?) I could as well have been any lost soul floundering in lifes ways. It is not alone hearing the Gospel, nor even knowing it is true. It is the motivation the Gospel gives that leads the faithful into paths of righteousness and action." Then I wrote: "Faith without works is dead" Followed by: "The invitation is to live!"
If I follow through with CTR I need to: Continue to Research, Continue to Read (the scriptures);
Continue to Remember (my Savior and his Atonement); Continue to Rededicate (my time and talents); Remember to Radiate (the love from the Savior); Contintue to Realize (I Am A Child of God); Remember to Receive (my blessings with a greatful heart); Remember to Redouble (my commitment to my covenants); Remember to Renew (myself with the taking of the Sacrament each week); Remember to Respond (to the Masters call - 'Come Follow Me').
I am greatful for finding this piece of paper with the writtings I cannot recall making, or the place and time when and where they were made. Another opportunity to bring myself into square with the things I both felt and learned at this time. We pass this way but once, it is good to take stock of where we have been, and how we are doing. Enduring to the end is an ongoing process. How well we do will not be measured by any one insident. I am continually inspired by just how wonderful the Plan of Salvation is. What I am to be is truly up to me. I am not sure just how I am doing, but I am ever greatful for the opportunities that come my way. Age does not limit our possiblities, it alters them a bit, but they continue to present themselves. I pray I will always be up to the benefits that they may present.
Written this 9th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
When I was little I had croupe
Now that I think of it, this may well have been the start of my asthma. At the time it was just a childhood malady that I was cursed with. I don't remember how "young" I was when one night I had a very serious attack and I found myself laying in bed asking God to not let me cough anymore - it hurt so badly. Now that I reflect on that night, I realize I must have only been about 3 or 4 years old. It has always amazed me that at that age I knew to ask God to help me. My family did not go to Church and I don't recall ever hearing any talk about religion of faith of any kind in our home. I remember that the folks saw that we made Sunday School because we were always dressed to the 9's for Holiday services. I recall that I had learned a speaking part for one Easter. Which was when I was 5, just before we moved to California.
With all of this, I do not recall ever being active in a religious enviornment that young, but I do have faint recollections of attending "Daily Vacation Bible School". Whether it was back in our old hometown of Greensberg, Pennsylvania or after we moved to California is not clear in my memory. All I know is when I was hurting, I was mindful to call upon God for help. Not only asking for that help, but really believing that He would help. The faith of a child. How sweet.
Written this 9th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
With all of this, I do not recall ever being active in a religious enviornment that young, but I do have faint recollections of attending "Daily Vacation Bible School". Whether it was back in our old hometown of Greensberg, Pennsylvania or after we moved to California is not clear in my memory. All I know is when I was hurting, I was mindful to call upon God for help. Not only asking for that help, but really believing that He would help. The faith of a child. How sweet.
Written this 9th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
My Journey
Now, I know some of this will be repeats, but to make the whole complete I don't see any other way to do this. So here we go! Some of you may not know that I gather "thoughts". When I find one that strikes my fancy, I write it down. Yesterday while doing some sorting of "ancient junk" I found a great one. I believe it is from a talk of Jeffrey R. Holland, at least it was part of a talk I
had made notes on. It fits the idea I am going with: "No part of our mortal body gets better with age". All of us over 50 can attest to that! Something else from that page is: "Senior Couples lengthen your shuffle". Well I am well over 50 and try as I might, my lengthening is getting a bit shorter as the days pass by. No complaints, I think I have had plenty of lengthening over the past 80 years to make up for any shortness in my stride today.
John McKay left this tid bit: "I'm a big believer in the 'Mirror Test' - All that matters is if you can look in the mirror and honestly tell the person staring back at you that you've done your best." What more can we ask of ourselves? Oh, I will admit there are some days that have been much better than others, but then we can all do that! I believe it is the overall job we do that is the measure of our success. No one thing will stand out as a make or break item.
Looking back I recall being told I almost wasn't an "it". My Mother was in ill health and though she an Dad wanted another child, it really wasn't the best idea at the time. Of course nature does figure into such things, and the start of a new life began. Some time after the 2nd month of this pregnancy Mother began having problems and by the 3rd month it was pretty certain that the preganacy would not go full term. Dr. McComma was called. He checked Mother over and suggested the best thing would be to assist the miscarriage with some medication. Mother was bed bound, so following the orders presented no problems, even with two growing boys in the house. All the tablets left were taken as prescribed and Mothers health improved.
When the 6 month time came around and Dr. McComma hadn't heard back, he stopped by to see for himself how things were going. There was Mother 6 Months pregnant. He was amazed.
I am not sure just how amazed, I believe he knew that anything that would kill one of his other patients would most certainly cure Mother. She had that kind of physical make up. At the end of the 9 months Grandma Hall had come to assist the family after the baby came and of course assist the Dr. with delivery as she was a Midwife. Fortunate for the family because during a night of heavy blizzard, Dad had to go for the Dr. No phones back in those days in most of the homes. In fact, I don't even know if the Dr. had one. The snow was blowing and stacking up in drifts 4 to 6 feet high before they showed up. By then Grandma Hall had delivered the baby and was taking care of Mother. Ta Da! I was born. A 7 pound 7 ounce little "sqwah". Jet black hair with brown eyes so dark you couldn't tell the pupil from the iris. Skin coloring, well it wasn't light. I had olive colored skin until I lost the pigmentation about 4 years ago. Man could I take a tan! Of course that was the reason I lost the pigmentation - too much sun. Readers beware! Oh, and a few skin cancers thrown in as well.
That round faced little girl didn't look much like the rest of the Smith clan, but she was surely welcome. Well all but Ron who wanted to send me back. I think he changed his mind some where along the line. He and I are the only ones left at this writting. Ralph was born in 1921 and Ron in 1924. So I was really the "little sister". My earliest recollections are of wanting to "tag along" I don't remember Ralph making a fuss, but I was sure a thorn in Ron's side. Ralph looked like Dad's side of the family and Ron never has been able to pin his looks down to anyone, really!
I held out for a long time, but it is obvious now that I look exactly like Mother. When we found a picture of Dad's birth mother it was decided that Ron looked like Eliza Bunn. Guess that means we kind of "spread the wealth" around when it comes to ancestors.
I never was the smartest kid on the block. I didn't have a great GPA. Never really "hankered" to attend College either. I believe now I had a learning disorder. Those things were never even thought of back when I was growing up, but things that seem to be caught early on in children these days. Not that it might have made that much difference. Maybe I would not have learned some of the things I did if I hadn't have had to struggle. Life deals us the trials we seem to need to get ahead of ourselves. If we tackle them right that is. I am greatful I had teachers who worked with me and helped me love reading. To the bookkeeping teacher who made handwritting important to me and example that Willetta made in my life. We don't pass this way without the influence of a great many people who touch our lives as we make your way through it.
You know even the hard knocks have caused enough changes to round out the total. I might have been a great deal different without each and everyone. I am greatful for the past few years that have given me new opportunities to investigte who I am and how the path I have traveled has been the making of who I am today. Discovering the Gospel for instance. You know I went to school with LDS kids, who never once thought to ask me to go to Church with them. Other friends from other Churches did. Once in High School Evelyn Botts came to me and said: "you know, I have just found something I think would interest you." She went on to join the Church, but never went beyond that first statement. When I met Jay, I had no idea he was LDS. He did not go to Church, nor did he ever ask me to go with him. Somehow the Lord seemed to guide me
ever so slowly and carefully. Giving me the time I needed to discover for myself. It was Jay's Aunt Jo who insisted we get married in the Church. Even then I had no idea what that ment. I just knew I wasn't attached to any Church and thought a Church wedding would be better than going to a Justice of the Peace of Judge to do the ceremony. (Thank you Aunt Jo).
Even after we were married, going to Church was not something we did. Jay had no interest, and I didn't have a clue as to where to go. When the time was right, and I was "ready", the Full Time Missionaries knocked on the door when I wasn't home. Jay took their invitation to talk to me, I have no idea why, with the way he felt. What ever, I met with the Missionaries as they had scheduled, and as the saying goes: "the rest is history". I have long wondered if Jay had been active would I have been as steady? Would I have found a way to go, on my own like I had to and put the Church together in my life the way I did? The path was far from smooth. When the Lord says he gives us precept upon precept, I understand how that works. First I learned about the Church. Then I learned how to serve. Then I learned how to gain a testimony. Next I tried myself to prove I needed to have a Temple Marriage. Each step took time, and each one moved me closer and closer to the goal the Lord has for each of us. As a convert, I took one step at a time until I trusted the path ahead of me, and took the leap of faith to the next step. No real support system, just my own questions and desires to have the answers. I never heard General Conference. In fact I am not sure I really knew they had such a thing for years. Once I attended one, I was fascinated to learn and study more.
Starting with the Sunbeams was a miracle. Those little kids were so cute, and fun. I wasn't challenged by them, I could plan the lesson with the activities and just enjoy the experience. When I had been grounded, I was given a challenge that surely changed my entire life. The Blazers. Those boys were a handful. I had the sturdy personality that would take their guff and we became friends and had a grand time learning together. I remember teaching a Mutual Class in Sunday School when they laughed at the way I pronounced the names from the Book of Mormon. I knew the material, I just wasn't very good with the names. I learned. Great way to put one foot in front of the other.
I helped put together Road Shows and Girls Camps. I struggled with so many things that come easy after 50 years, but each new thing took time and patience on my part. Why is it we think things should be easy. Well, they are really, it just takes us time to learn enough to find the way.
I remember one CES meeting before I moved up here to San Luis Obispo. Elder Packer told us we needed to "follow the brethern". Then in my sorting yesterday I ran across this thought from Russell M. Ballard "are we listening to the prophets? Are we hearing? If you follow the prophets you will not go astray." What great advise. How greatful I am today to know the prophets and to be willing to follow their council. Another great thought from Neal A Maxwell:
"Let us not resent the Lord's tutoring experiences. These are the dues for full discipleship".
So the bumps and bruises for spiritual learning are what we pay for our "full membeship" in the Kingdom of our Father. Another one from Carol Thomas: "Sacrifice, without it no true worship is given." We might well ask what sacrifice? Our time, our talents our willingness to do what is required. I am not sure just how many hours I spent in preparing for any given lesson I have taught. I do remember however of spending 40 hours one month preparing for a 40 minute lesson on the teachings of Jesus Christ in Relief Society. I don't know how much the Sisters learned that day, but I will never forget the things I learned, nor the additional strength to my testimony that was added by that experience.
There are not a few who have set at my feet in Seminary and Institute Classes and spent valuable time from their lives listening to me teach. It is never far from my mind what effect any of that has had on even one. I have been blessed to hear from some who report they have been blessed by something they learned from me. Those witnesses have humbled me greatly. To know I have done something to help another is most gratifying. What is even more humbling is to know that a number of those students who have spent time with me have gone on to become Seminary and Institute Teachers as well. Like the rock that is tossed into water makes rings across the surface, our touching the lives of others leaves waves. I once read a teacher will never know the extent of their teaching until the eternities. The thought I may have been an influence for furthering the work here on earth is almost hard to fathom.
The thought of family influence of course enters into this equation as well. Children and Grand Children and now Great Grand Children. The further we get away from the center the more I wonder can we really influence those more distant to us? Hopefully we do in all the right ways. First that they know how much they are loved. How interested I am in all they do. How hopeful I am for the success in life and in their happiness. Doing Genealogy has made me aware of how great the connection is between us and those who have passed this way before us. As LDS we are interested in the Pioneers and take great pride in being descended from those who were willing to pay such a price for what we have both in this country and in the Church. Their testimonies may not be as crisp in our minds, but they are certainly clear as to their content. No one could have endured or accomplished so much who were not sure in their Faith and diligent in the dedication to the things they have lived for in such trying times. An unknown writter has left us this: "Prayer - don't give God instructions, just report for duty." The pioneers did that.
Another writes: "the task ahead of us is never as great as the power behind us". I believe the Gospel has been "the wind beneath MY wings." I have been years finding my way without the support of a mate in the Gospel. I was hopeful in helping my mate find strength to fill a Mission and accept a call to become an Ordinance Worker in the Temple. I have been comforted as my mate slipped away leaving me to "carry on" alone. Sad? No! I am greatful for every opportunity that has been mine to become "all that I can be" and hopefully extend that same ability to the one person that made my life so wonderful. I can testify that the last speach that Patrick spoke in the Movie Ghost is true: "Molly - the love continues". I know this is true. We
may change places, but the Love Goes On. I've never seen the Savior, but I know HE loves me, and HE lives. I haven't been to Heaven, but I know it is there. I've worked and never missed a payday. My needs have and are met. That is not to say I have everything I want, but I have had everything that I need. In fact most of the time I have had more than I really needed, like clothes, etc. I can only wear one thing at a time, and eat one thing at a time. My needs are simple. It is my desires that are not always in proper focus.
None of us know the amount of hours, days, weeks, months or even years alotted to us. This does not matter because we can only live one day at a time anyway. It is not how we die, but how we have lived that will make the difference. Someone has wisely said: "the Will of God will never take you to where the Grace of God will not protect you." Another has said: "Don't put a question mark where God put a period." Simply put: "Thy will be done". Or this: "if God is Your Co-Pilot swap seats."
I guess we are all pretty much alike. We wake up everyday not expecting much, handling what comes our way, and ending the day with a greatful heart we were able to "endure to the end". Every day is a challenge, dressed in a different dress. Some are more attractive than others, but each has come with it's own chance to achieve and succeed. It is said: "people are funny, they want the front of the bus, the middle of the road and the back of the Church." While: "some minds are like concrete, thoroughly mixed up and permanently set." We should remain plyable and fresh. We never know when the Lord will need a willing and caring soul to carry on the work needed to be done today. Besides: "drive carefully - it is not only cars that are recalled by their maker". Or: "even if you are on the right track, you will get runover if you just set there". I guess a great conclusion to this journey would be: "a truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a DETOUR".
Well life could and may at times be bypassed on a detour. It will be our attitude as we approach it that will make the difference of how we are at the end of it. Some, may take us a piece out of our way, but hold opportunities we could not have thought of. Some will make us realize how lucky we were saved from some danger, while others may set us on to the correct track that might have been missed altogether. It isn't where we are headed that will make the big difference, rather it is where we end that will tell the tale. Believe: "faith doesn't get you around trouble. It gets you through it!" May YOUR lifes journey, as mine has me, take you where your heart will be full of love and your future full of hope fulfilled. I know that my Redeemer Lives. I know that He is watching over me in my twilight hours and will continue to guide me as I follow the path He has laid out before me. To these things I bear my witness in the worthy name of Jesus Christ - Amen
Written this 5th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
had made notes on. It fits the idea I am going with: "No part of our mortal body gets better with age". All of us over 50 can attest to that! Something else from that page is: "Senior Couples lengthen your shuffle". Well I am well over 50 and try as I might, my lengthening is getting a bit shorter as the days pass by. No complaints, I think I have had plenty of lengthening over the past 80 years to make up for any shortness in my stride today.
John McKay left this tid bit: "I'm a big believer in the 'Mirror Test' - All that matters is if you can look in the mirror and honestly tell the person staring back at you that you've done your best." What more can we ask of ourselves? Oh, I will admit there are some days that have been much better than others, but then we can all do that! I believe it is the overall job we do that is the measure of our success. No one thing will stand out as a make or break item.
Looking back I recall being told I almost wasn't an "it". My Mother was in ill health and though she an Dad wanted another child, it really wasn't the best idea at the time. Of course nature does figure into such things, and the start of a new life began. Some time after the 2nd month of this pregnancy Mother began having problems and by the 3rd month it was pretty certain that the preganacy would not go full term. Dr. McComma was called. He checked Mother over and suggested the best thing would be to assist the miscarriage with some medication. Mother was bed bound, so following the orders presented no problems, even with two growing boys in the house. All the tablets left were taken as prescribed and Mothers health improved.
When the 6 month time came around and Dr. McComma hadn't heard back, he stopped by to see for himself how things were going. There was Mother 6 Months pregnant. He was amazed.
I am not sure just how amazed, I believe he knew that anything that would kill one of his other patients would most certainly cure Mother. She had that kind of physical make up. At the end of the 9 months Grandma Hall had come to assist the family after the baby came and of course assist the Dr. with delivery as she was a Midwife. Fortunate for the family because during a night of heavy blizzard, Dad had to go for the Dr. No phones back in those days in most of the homes. In fact, I don't even know if the Dr. had one. The snow was blowing and stacking up in drifts 4 to 6 feet high before they showed up. By then Grandma Hall had delivered the baby and was taking care of Mother. Ta Da! I was born. A 7 pound 7 ounce little "sqwah". Jet black hair with brown eyes so dark you couldn't tell the pupil from the iris. Skin coloring, well it wasn't light. I had olive colored skin until I lost the pigmentation about 4 years ago. Man could I take a tan! Of course that was the reason I lost the pigmentation - too much sun. Readers beware! Oh, and a few skin cancers thrown in as well.
That round faced little girl didn't look much like the rest of the Smith clan, but she was surely welcome. Well all but Ron who wanted to send me back. I think he changed his mind some where along the line. He and I are the only ones left at this writting. Ralph was born in 1921 and Ron in 1924. So I was really the "little sister". My earliest recollections are of wanting to "tag along" I don't remember Ralph making a fuss, but I was sure a thorn in Ron's side. Ralph looked like Dad's side of the family and Ron never has been able to pin his looks down to anyone, really!
I held out for a long time, but it is obvious now that I look exactly like Mother. When we found a picture of Dad's birth mother it was decided that Ron looked like Eliza Bunn. Guess that means we kind of "spread the wealth" around when it comes to ancestors.
I never was the smartest kid on the block. I didn't have a great GPA. Never really "hankered" to attend College either. I believe now I had a learning disorder. Those things were never even thought of back when I was growing up, but things that seem to be caught early on in children these days. Not that it might have made that much difference. Maybe I would not have learned some of the things I did if I hadn't have had to struggle. Life deals us the trials we seem to need to get ahead of ourselves. If we tackle them right that is. I am greatful I had teachers who worked with me and helped me love reading. To the bookkeeping teacher who made handwritting important to me and example that Willetta made in my life. We don't pass this way without the influence of a great many people who touch our lives as we make your way through it.
You know even the hard knocks have caused enough changes to round out the total. I might have been a great deal different without each and everyone. I am greatful for the past few years that have given me new opportunities to investigte who I am and how the path I have traveled has been the making of who I am today. Discovering the Gospel for instance. You know I went to school with LDS kids, who never once thought to ask me to go to Church with them. Other friends from other Churches did. Once in High School Evelyn Botts came to me and said: "you know, I have just found something I think would interest you." She went on to join the Church, but never went beyond that first statement. When I met Jay, I had no idea he was LDS. He did not go to Church, nor did he ever ask me to go with him. Somehow the Lord seemed to guide me
ever so slowly and carefully. Giving me the time I needed to discover for myself. It was Jay's Aunt Jo who insisted we get married in the Church. Even then I had no idea what that ment. I just knew I wasn't attached to any Church and thought a Church wedding would be better than going to a Justice of the Peace of Judge to do the ceremony. (Thank you Aunt Jo).
Even after we were married, going to Church was not something we did. Jay had no interest, and I didn't have a clue as to where to go. When the time was right, and I was "ready", the Full Time Missionaries knocked on the door when I wasn't home. Jay took their invitation to talk to me, I have no idea why, with the way he felt. What ever, I met with the Missionaries as they had scheduled, and as the saying goes: "the rest is history". I have long wondered if Jay had been active would I have been as steady? Would I have found a way to go, on my own like I had to and put the Church together in my life the way I did? The path was far from smooth. When the Lord says he gives us precept upon precept, I understand how that works. First I learned about the Church. Then I learned how to serve. Then I learned how to gain a testimony. Next I tried myself to prove I needed to have a Temple Marriage. Each step took time, and each one moved me closer and closer to the goal the Lord has for each of us. As a convert, I took one step at a time until I trusted the path ahead of me, and took the leap of faith to the next step. No real support system, just my own questions and desires to have the answers. I never heard General Conference. In fact I am not sure I really knew they had such a thing for years. Once I attended one, I was fascinated to learn and study more.
Starting with the Sunbeams was a miracle. Those little kids were so cute, and fun. I wasn't challenged by them, I could plan the lesson with the activities and just enjoy the experience. When I had been grounded, I was given a challenge that surely changed my entire life. The Blazers. Those boys were a handful. I had the sturdy personality that would take their guff and we became friends and had a grand time learning together. I remember teaching a Mutual Class in Sunday School when they laughed at the way I pronounced the names from the Book of Mormon. I knew the material, I just wasn't very good with the names. I learned. Great way to put one foot in front of the other.
I helped put together Road Shows and Girls Camps. I struggled with so many things that come easy after 50 years, but each new thing took time and patience on my part. Why is it we think things should be easy. Well, they are really, it just takes us time to learn enough to find the way.
I remember one CES meeting before I moved up here to San Luis Obispo. Elder Packer told us we needed to "follow the brethern". Then in my sorting yesterday I ran across this thought from Russell M. Ballard "are we listening to the prophets? Are we hearing? If you follow the prophets you will not go astray." What great advise. How greatful I am today to know the prophets and to be willing to follow their council. Another great thought from Neal A Maxwell:
"Let us not resent the Lord's tutoring experiences. These are the dues for full discipleship".
So the bumps and bruises for spiritual learning are what we pay for our "full membeship" in the Kingdom of our Father. Another one from Carol Thomas: "Sacrifice, without it no true worship is given." We might well ask what sacrifice? Our time, our talents our willingness to do what is required. I am not sure just how many hours I spent in preparing for any given lesson I have taught. I do remember however of spending 40 hours one month preparing for a 40 minute lesson on the teachings of Jesus Christ in Relief Society. I don't know how much the Sisters learned that day, but I will never forget the things I learned, nor the additional strength to my testimony that was added by that experience.
There are not a few who have set at my feet in Seminary and Institute Classes and spent valuable time from their lives listening to me teach. It is never far from my mind what effect any of that has had on even one. I have been blessed to hear from some who report they have been blessed by something they learned from me. Those witnesses have humbled me greatly. To know I have done something to help another is most gratifying. What is even more humbling is to know that a number of those students who have spent time with me have gone on to become Seminary and Institute Teachers as well. Like the rock that is tossed into water makes rings across the surface, our touching the lives of others leaves waves. I once read a teacher will never know the extent of their teaching until the eternities. The thought I may have been an influence for furthering the work here on earth is almost hard to fathom.
The thought of family influence of course enters into this equation as well. Children and Grand Children and now Great Grand Children. The further we get away from the center the more I wonder can we really influence those more distant to us? Hopefully we do in all the right ways. First that they know how much they are loved. How interested I am in all they do. How hopeful I am for the success in life and in their happiness. Doing Genealogy has made me aware of how great the connection is between us and those who have passed this way before us. As LDS we are interested in the Pioneers and take great pride in being descended from those who were willing to pay such a price for what we have both in this country and in the Church. Their testimonies may not be as crisp in our minds, but they are certainly clear as to their content. No one could have endured or accomplished so much who were not sure in their Faith and diligent in the dedication to the things they have lived for in such trying times. An unknown writter has left us this: "Prayer - don't give God instructions, just report for duty." The pioneers did that.
Another writes: "the task ahead of us is never as great as the power behind us". I believe the Gospel has been "the wind beneath MY wings." I have been years finding my way without the support of a mate in the Gospel. I was hopeful in helping my mate find strength to fill a Mission and accept a call to become an Ordinance Worker in the Temple. I have been comforted as my mate slipped away leaving me to "carry on" alone. Sad? No! I am greatful for every opportunity that has been mine to become "all that I can be" and hopefully extend that same ability to the one person that made my life so wonderful. I can testify that the last speach that Patrick spoke in the Movie Ghost is true: "Molly - the love continues". I know this is true. We
may change places, but the Love Goes On. I've never seen the Savior, but I know HE loves me, and HE lives. I haven't been to Heaven, but I know it is there. I've worked and never missed a payday. My needs have and are met. That is not to say I have everything I want, but I have had everything that I need. In fact most of the time I have had more than I really needed, like clothes, etc. I can only wear one thing at a time, and eat one thing at a time. My needs are simple. It is my desires that are not always in proper focus.
None of us know the amount of hours, days, weeks, months or even years alotted to us. This does not matter because we can only live one day at a time anyway. It is not how we die, but how we have lived that will make the difference. Someone has wisely said: "the Will of God will never take you to where the Grace of God will not protect you." Another has said: "Don't put a question mark where God put a period." Simply put: "Thy will be done". Or this: "if God is Your Co-Pilot swap seats."
I guess we are all pretty much alike. We wake up everyday not expecting much, handling what comes our way, and ending the day with a greatful heart we were able to "endure to the end". Every day is a challenge, dressed in a different dress. Some are more attractive than others, but each has come with it's own chance to achieve and succeed. It is said: "people are funny, they want the front of the bus, the middle of the road and the back of the Church." While: "some minds are like concrete, thoroughly mixed up and permanently set." We should remain plyable and fresh. We never know when the Lord will need a willing and caring soul to carry on the work needed to be done today. Besides: "drive carefully - it is not only cars that are recalled by their maker". Or: "even if you are on the right track, you will get runover if you just set there". I guess a great conclusion to this journey would be: "a truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a DETOUR".
Well life could and may at times be bypassed on a detour. It will be our attitude as we approach it that will make the difference of how we are at the end of it. Some, may take us a piece out of our way, but hold opportunities we could not have thought of. Some will make us realize how lucky we were saved from some danger, while others may set us on to the correct track that might have been missed altogether. It isn't where we are headed that will make the big difference, rather it is where we end that will tell the tale. Believe: "faith doesn't get you around trouble. It gets you through it!" May YOUR lifes journey, as mine has me, take you where your heart will be full of love and your future full of hope fulfilled. I know that my Redeemer Lives. I know that He is watching over me in my twilight hours and will continue to guide me as I follow the path He has laid out before me. To these things I bear my witness in the worthy name of Jesus Christ - Amen
Written this 5th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Friday, January 1, 2010
Something You Might Find Interesting?
When my Dad, John Smith, was a young man, he needed some Dental Work done. Going to a Dentist in those days was much different than it is today. First off, they didn't have all the high tech equipment you are use to seeing. No, it was pretty crude by todays comparison. I believe it was his "eye teeth" that needed work. Today, it might be pretty simple, but back then, it was
the long way around. Dad use to tell us his two gold capped front teeth were rather unusual for
the time in which they were done. The Dentist used a $20.00 Gold Piece to make the Crowns.
Dad said the Dentist had to hammer the piece down until it could be formed into those two Crowns or Caps. Guess he must have been pretty good, Dad wore those Crowns until he had his teeth pulled when he was in his 50's.
Going to a Dentist as a youth was pretty unusual. Now we are taught to see a Dentist at least once a year. For good Dental Health twice a year is better. When I was a kid, I don't remember ever going to the Dentist. It just wasn't that common back then. One of the requirements for me to Graduate from High School was my teeth had to be in tip/top condition. In my Senior Year I had an appointment with Dr. Chapwell who had an office across the street from the Post Office in Huntington Park. They took x-rays and found as I recall 17 cavaties. Some small but a couple were pretty big. Appointments were made, and I would go after school to have the work done. I never had any reason to fear going to the Dentist before, so I went without any cares. That soon changed when they started drilling without any pain medication. It was an awful experience and one I have not totally recovered from. Oh, I got it all done, but wasn't the least bit interested in going back.
Marrying Jay is probably the only reason I still have teeth in my head today. He was always set we kept our teeth in good repair. I hadn't lost any of my wisdom teeth either, so that was another little side trip yet to be "enjoyed". At least they put you to sleep by then. Dentistry had made giant strides. No longer did the Dentist do such things, I was referred to an "Oral Surgeon". By then I was in my mid 20's, married and a mother of one. I can't say I enjoyed it, but it sure beat, all to heck, what I had experienced before with Dr. Chatwell.
It seemed as if each visit, I found a great many changes for the better. Now they at least offered to give something for pain. Now it is a given. If they drill, they give their patient something to make the work more bearable.
I don't concider myself a "whimp", but for the amount of cavities I had, and the crude drilling system back then, it wasn't only the drilling, but the heat the drill generated that was part of the discomfort. The Dr. was most sympathetic, and did try in every way to work through it with me, but I learned to hate going to the Dentist, and have a hard time today with havning any drilling done. Thank heavens I have learned self hypnosis which helps me relax and get through those sessions with some comfort.
Now I am one of the lucky ones who has to see the hygenist to have my teeth cleaned 4 times a year. The Dentist reads x-rays once and year to see if all the Crown Work I have in place is still solid and not requireing more work. Only my front teeth have escaped some kind of covering. Do I have any gold in my mouth? Yes, but the Dentist didn't have anything to do with it. Now they have Dental Labratories that take the Dentist's impressions and makes the finished products. I guess that is an added reason we have bigger Dental bills than were noticed in the past. A number more people are getting "into the act". I am not complaining, the work has been excellent, and the pain brought mercifully to a very minimum. Oh, I still hate going to the Dentist, but not with as much trepidation as in the past. Actually I worry more about the cost than anything else.
Dentistry from the horse and buggy stage up to todays marvelous workmanship. I am sorry to say neither my Dad nor my older brother had much luck with their dentures. Ron and Willetta had "imediate restoration", which they say is the only way to do it. If my luck continues, I won't have to find out.
Jay had such beautiful teeth. Good genes I guess. That and the fact he was faithful in brushing, and seeing the Dentist. I don't think that came from his family. Both his parents had dentures. I think he was blessed with good teeth and joining the Navy at such a young age, he was treated and found the benefit from early detection. What ever the case, I have to give him credit for keeping after me until I learned to follow the correct procedure to still have my teeth.
What is the moral? I am not sure there is one. I am just greatful that Medicine has advanced to the stage it has, and all the modern machines and treatments that keep us healthy longer are now available. Which means I am just as greatful that Dentistry has made the advancements it has. No more mercury fillings. Modern equipment that makes going to the Dentist more comforable. Now, that is not to say I want to watch TV while I am worked on, but it is nice to have the lay back chairs and computer held records that help keep up to date with all that is being done, or done in my mouth. I am not sure I get that much out of wearing dark glasses while they "play" in my mouth, but appreciate they cover their mouth and nose while they work on me, with my trap wide open. I don't need anymore germs than I carry around on my own.
Having those "eyepopping" magnifiers on their glasses I am sure make for more comfort for me. At least they see where they are going.
Yes, I would have to say that things have advanced a great deal since my Dad had to submit to having money taken from his pocket to help cover tooth damage. I am not sure how much more the Dentist asked for the work, but I am sure he was paid well. Guess we are back to the old addage; "you get what you pay for". I for one am greatful what I pay for is visible when I walk into the Dentist Office. I no longer fear that "straight chair" with only a head rest that moved to put me into position for the torture I went through. Now I can relax, grab onto the armrest and
prepare for the torture. (Well really not torture.) Better wording might be "discomfort". I hate having my mouth sleep so I feel like half my face is gone. Or dribble water down the front of my blouse when I try to take a drink before I have regained my former feeling.
You know, you've been there, and done that too. How about the nose? Well, that is another whole section, and we won't go there for now.
Just remember: "see your Dentist twice a year and have your teeth cleaned regularly" It is really money in the bank. I'm not sure just whose bank, but you get the idea!
Written this 1st day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
the long way around. Dad use to tell us his two gold capped front teeth were rather unusual for
the time in which they were done. The Dentist used a $20.00 Gold Piece to make the Crowns.
Dad said the Dentist had to hammer the piece down until it could be formed into those two Crowns or Caps. Guess he must have been pretty good, Dad wore those Crowns until he had his teeth pulled when he was in his 50's.
Going to a Dentist as a youth was pretty unusual. Now we are taught to see a Dentist at least once a year. For good Dental Health twice a year is better. When I was a kid, I don't remember ever going to the Dentist. It just wasn't that common back then. One of the requirements for me to Graduate from High School was my teeth had to be in tip/top condition. In my Senior Year I had an appointment with Dr. Chapwell who had an office across the street from the Post Office in Huntington Park. They took x-rays and found as I recall 17 cavaties. Some small but a couple were pretty big. Appointments were made, and I would go after school to have the work done. I never had any reason to fear going to the Dentist before, so I went without any cares. That soon changed when they started drilling without any pain medication. It was an awful experience and one I have not totally recovered from. Oh, I got it all done, but wasn't the least bit interested in going back.
Marrying Jay is probably the only reason I still have teeth in my head today. He was always set we kept our teeth in good repair. I hadn't lost any of my wisdom teeth either, so that was another little side trip yet to be "enjoyed". At least they put you to sleep by then. Dentistry had made giant strides. No longer did the Dentist do such things, I was referred to an "Oral Surgeon". By then I was in my mid 20's, married and a mother of one. I can't say I enjoyed it, but it sure beat, all to heck, what I had experienced before with Dr. Chatwell.
It seemed as if each visit, I found a great many changes for the better. Now they at least offered to give something for pain. Now it is a given. If they drill, they give their patient something to make the work more bearable.
I don't concider myself a "whimp", but for the amount of cavities I had, and the crude drilling system back then, it wasn't only the drilling, but the heat the drill generated that was part of the discomfort. The Dr. was most sympathetic, and did try in every way to work through it with me, but I learned to hate going to the Dentist, and have a hard time today with havning any drilling done. Thank heavens I have learned self hypnosis which helps me relax and get through those sessions with some comfort.
Now I am one of the lucky ones who has to see the hygenist to have my teeth cleaned 4 times a year. The Dentist reads x-rays once and year to see if all the Crown Work I have in place is still solid and not requireing more work. Only my front teeth have escaped some kind of covering. Do I have any gold in my mouth? Yes, but the Dentist didn't have anything to do with it. Now they have Dental Labratories that take the Dentist's impressions and makes the finished products. I guess that is an added reason we have bigger Dental bills than were noticed in the past. A number more people are getting "into the act". I am not complaining, the work has been excellent, and the pain brought mercifully to a very minimum. Oh, I still hate going to the Dentist, but not with as much trepidation as in the past. Actually I worry more about the cost than anything else.
Dentistry from the horse and buggy stage up to todays marvelous workmanship. I am sorry to say neither my Dad nor my older brother had much luck with their dentures. Ron and Willetta had "imediate restoration", which they say is the only way to do it. If my luck continues, I won't have to find out.
Jay had such beautiful teeth. Good genes I guess. That and the fact he was faithful in brushing, and seeing the Dentist. I don't think that came from his family. Both his parents had dentures. I think he was blessed with good teeth and joining the Navy at such a young age, he was treated and found the benefit from early detection. What ever the case, I have to give him credit for keeping after me until I learned to follow the correct procedure to still have my teeth.
What is the moral? I am not sure there is one. I am just greatful that Medicine has advanced to the stage it has, and all the modern machines and treatments that keep us healthy longer are now available. Which means I am just as greatful that Dentistry has made the advancements it has. No more mercury fillings. Modern equipment that makes going to the Dentist more comforable. Now, that is not to say I want to watch TV while I am worked on, but it is nice to have the lay back chairs and computer held records that help keep up to date with all that is being done, or done in my mouth. I am not sure I get that much out of wearing dark glasses while they "play" in my mouth, but appreciate they cover their mouth and nose while they work on me, with my trap wide open. I don't need anymore germs than I carry around on my own.
Having those "eyepopping" magnifiers on their glasses I am sure make for more comfort for me. At least they see where they are going.
Yes, I would have to say that things have advanced a great deal since my Dad had to submit to having money taken from his pocket to help cover tooth damage. I am not sure how much more the Dentist asked for the work, but I am sure he was paid well. Guess we are back to the old addage; "you get what you pay for". I for one am greatful what I pay for is visible when I walk into the Dentist Office. I no longer fear that "straight chair" with only a head rest that moved to put me into position for the torture I went through. Now I can relax, grab onto the armrest and
prepare for the torture. (Well really not torture.) Better wording might be "discomfort". I hate having my mouth sleep so I feel like half my face is gone. Or dribble water down the front of my blouse when I try to take a drink before I have regained my former feeling.
You know, you've been there, and done that too. How about the nose? Well, that is another whole section, and we won't go there for now.
Just remember: "see your Dentist twice a year and have your teeth cleaned regularly" It is really money in the bank. I'm not sure just whose bank, but you get the idea!
Written this 1st day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
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