CPR, Stat!

“Hey Maaahhhmmm! I’m home!”
Crash! The door slammed behind me. I stopped long enough to throw my jacket and bag onto the floor. Hmmm…I wonder where mom is. “Mom?” No answer still. Maybe she was out back. I didn’t want to wait. I had things I needed and wanted to do. I wanted to go downstairs to see our new bunnies. The day before, our family acquired a cute black rabbit that we name Licorice and a gray Rex rabbit appropriately named Bugs. Their home was temporarily located in a huge diaper box in the unfinished basement family room. Bugs and Licorice were just too cuddly to leave alone; I needed to hold them. No one was around, so I figured I could go visit.
Without much thought, I clattered down the uncarpeted stairs, slammed the basement door open, and ran headlong into the family room. I had been waiting for this moment all day; I could barely restrain my energy. Still running, I flipped on the light and raced toward the box like a speeding bullet. I accidentally kicked the bottom of the box in my excitement to hold those warm, furry, oh-so-cute bodies. As I reached in to pick up Licorice, he fell over and didn’t move. Oh no!
I poked and prodded at the lifeless little body. Oh, if I only knew CPR, maybe I could resuscitate him. At that point I didn’t know what I had to lose, so I figured CPR was worth a try. Taking Licorice out of the box, I sat on the floor and nestled him in my lap. I turned the poor, pitiful, floppy creature onto his back. I had seen this procedure done on television once or twice and thought I remembered the doctors pushing on the patient’s chest. I pressed two fingers down over the spot that I hoped was Licorice’s heart. Slowly, I pushed in on his body like the doctor did on t.v.
In…out…in…out… I found myself mentally encouraging him, Come on little guy. You can do it! In…out…in…out…
“Please get up,” I sobbed. In…out…in…out… I continued pushing.
I had a sudden recollection of those same t.v. doctors breathing into the bodies that they were trying to revive. In…out…in…out… Let’s see, how exactly did that work? Hold the nose and put my mouth on Licorice’s? Oh, I guess I’ll have to try it. In…out…in…out… Quickly, I lowered my head to Licorice’s as I pried open his mouth at the same time. This was too gross, but I had to try. Mom would be home any second. Here went nothing.
Covering the rabbit’s mouth with mine, I blew air into the little lungs. Nothing. I blew again. Still nothing. I tried a combination of breathing and pushing on his heart.
Breathe…in…out…in…out…Breathe…in…out…
I continued this for a few more seconds before I finally conceded—I had lost. Licorice was dead. Bam! Reality struck me full force in the face. I was dead meat too!
Vaguely, the remnants of my mother’s warnings from the day before began filtering through my feeble 10-year-old brain.
Ok, you guys. These rabbits need to get used to us,” my mother had patiently explained. “I need you to not go downstairs without permission, and then when you do, please be careful to not hit the box. You don’t want to scare Bugs and Licorice, do you?
“No Mom,” Bobby and I said together, shaking our heads in fervent determination to be good children.
Oh dear, what was I going to do?
Gently, but quickly, I placed Licorice back into the box with Bugs. I even made a few half0hearted attempts to stand him up, just on the off chance that rigor mortis might set in fast enough to make him seem alive. No such luck! In desperation I backed quietly away from the box and out of the room. Quickly, I turned off the light and tip-toed up the stairs, praying that Mom would stay wherever she was.
I reached the top step and peeked around the banister wall. My luck was holding so far. No sign of Mom. My jacket and bag were still on the landing where I’d thrown them. The tension inside of me was twisting and tightening to the point that if someone had touched me, I would have launched to the moon.
Quietly, I picked up my jacket and bag, eased the front door open, and uttered a silent, thankful prayer that Mom was still missing. Without another glance back, I stepped out onto the front porch and into the bright, spring sun. I shut the door carefully and began to breathe again. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. My luck had held! Mom hadn’t caught me!
A few moments of painful reality passed as I waited for the adrenaline rush to slow down. My hands and knees were shaking; my poor heart racing. (I think there must be some kind of irony here somewhere.) Finally, I felt calm enough to face the music. With a deep breathe, I turned around, opened the door and “came home from school” for the second time that day.
“Maaahhhmmm! I’m home!”
Mom came out of the kitchen, removing her gardening gloves as she walked. So that’s where she’d been, I thought. “Hi honey, how was your day?” She said as she kissed me on the top of my head. “Why are you so late?” I could hear a small degree of concern in her voice.
“Umm, it was great! I was just out with Cindy talking about stuff for a few minutes,” I lied. “Can I go downstairs to see the rabbits?” With both dread at what I’d find and excitement that all was going so well, I held my breath while I waited for her answer.
“Sure, just be careful. Remember what I told you yesterday? Don’t make lots of noise and move slowly. You don’t want to scare the little guys.” I noticed she emphasized ‘slowly’.
“Ok Mom, I’ll be careful,” I promised solemnly. I turned and slowly started down the stairs, tiptoeing to soften my steps.
“Oh, and Barb?” She stopped me cold in my tracks.
“Yeah?” I called back up to her, knowing I was caught.
“Be sure you don’t hit the box, ok?”
Gulp! “Ok Mom! I won’t.” Guilt coursed through me like electricity surging through a person in the electric chair. With leaden feet, I continued my long trek down the stairs. I had to act this part just right, but my excitement was not at the peak level it had been earlier.
I reached the bottom of the stairs, made the left turn into the hall, and watched the room suddenly zoom out into the distance like halls do in the movies when someone’s taking the long walk to the gas chamber. With a heavy heart, I made the walk through the mile-long hallway and flicked the light on when I reached the family room. I was trying desperately to remain calm and hold my trembling hands still as I cautiously approached the box. Part of me hoped that Licorice would be up and about while the other part muttered, “Get out while you still can!”
Timidly, I peered over the edge of the box. A sob caught in my throat as I realized that Licorice was still a little, black, dead fur ball. Ok. The time had come to put my acting talents to use.
I ran to the bottom of the stairs. “Maaahhhmmm!” I hollered up to her.
She looked over the banister. “What’s wrong?”
“Something’s wrong with Licorice. He won’t move,” I told her. Inwardly, I was amazed at how calm I was. Mom hurried down the stairs.
“When I walked up to the box,” I began quickly, “he was just laying there like this.” I thrust my arms and one leg out straight and stuck out my tongue to show her Licorice’s position in the box.
“Did you scare him at all? Make loud noises? Run too fast?” She interrogated.
“No, I was super careful,” I replied half-truthfully while shaking my head. In my mind’s eye I rehearsed my second visit to the rabbits. I had been so extra careful to do everything right. I guess I must have done a pretty good job – Mom never guessed. Whew!
Life continued on normally, what was considered “normal” for our family, anyway. I would like to say that I learned the supreme lesson in obedience, but let’s not add insult to injury. Somehow, though, I made my way through the growing years and tried to become a decent human being, always carrying my guilty secret with me.
Many years later, when I was grown and had children of my own, my family was gathered together for a hot game of Pictionary and true confessions. Bobby was in the midst of confessing some of his more heinous teenage crimes, so I thought I could bear to reveal one my only childhood indiscretions.
Sitting with my family around me, I began with, “Remember when I was little and our rabbit Licorice died…?”
“Yes…” Mom replied with a horrified look on her face at the realization that a revelation of traumatic proportions was about to come forth. I wasn’t sure whether or not to continue since Bobby had already sent her into cardiac arrest with his tales of adventure and deceit.
“Well,” I continued, twisting my hair around my finger and sheepishly looking my mother in the face, “I scared him to death.”
“You what?!” Mom exclaimed. I then let the entire, guilt-ridden story pour out of my lips. When I had finished, I looked into her kind and gentle face. With tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks, she forgave her disobedient daughter for long ago transgressions.
Unfortunately for me, forgiving is not forgetting. As only mothers can do, I am occasionally reminded of my folly at the most inopportune moments—usually beginning with the words, “Remember when you were little, and you killed the rabbit?”

The Long Winter...

is coming to an end, at least it seems like it. Even if we get more snow and cold, the daylight hours are longer. We've had such a mild winter and the past couple of weeks have been wonderful. The snow and ice are melting and the trees have buds on them. I feel like I'm waking up, myself, after being asleep for the past several months. I don't even know what I've accomplished this winter other than reading books and watching tv...oh yeah, and teaching kidlets in Ninilchik. Mike has worked hard at the good ol' Home Depot and so has Meghan.

So, to sum things up, we've been pretty boring for the past several months. With the increasing daylight, we're beginning to emerge from our dens. Mike has been busy building our spiral staircase for the loft. I've been planning my garden, buying my seeds, and making plans for building the greenhouse.

I guess that about sums up our wonderfully, inactive winter. I know that during the fall, there were days when I couldn't wait for winter so that we could slow down and relax after our hectic months of building. We're getting ready to gear up for another round of building as we continue working on the house. New plans include another addition to the house (a master bedroom), a garage, and a workshop for Mike. Additionally, we're going to be building pig pens, a new chicken run, putting in a septic system, and enlarging our garden space. So, I guess the fact that we've been a little bit lazy is ok considering everything else that is in the works. We also have to remember that we have to squeeze in a little fishing, clamming, and visiting with family throughout the summer as well. Wow! That's a lot!

Bucket List

I am extremely attention deficit lately. Maybe because I have so many things on my mind. So, I found myself staring at my bulletin board in my classroom -- my personal bucket list. I began the school year with the students creating their own bucket lists. I thought it would be a good way to talk about goals and setting attainable ones. None of my goals are so out of reach that they can't be accomplished, but they do require time and money. As I wrote them, though, I thought about things I would have once enjoyed doing, but now there is no way I would -- things like willingly jumping out of an airplane. Not happening in this lifetime unless I'm seriously jumping for my life. Then I like thinking about things that I've always wanted and finally achieved numerous times -- things like owning a black cocker spaniel or attending a Broadway musical. Cool stuff!

So, here's my list. I think I'll add to it as I think of new things. I'm also including stuff that I've accomplished that I always wanted to do. This is a work in progress!
1. Pick a pineapple to eat
2. Travel to all 50 states -- Airports don't count (Alaska, Washington, California, Oregon, Idaho, Montana, Arizona, Nevada, Utah, Colorado, Wyoming, New Mexico, Vermont, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, Alabama, Georgia, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts)
3. Attend a Broadway play (Phantom of the Opera, Miss Saigon, Mama Mia!)
4. Climb to King's Peak (in Utah's Uintas)
5. Go snorkling in the Caribbean
6. Explore the Mayan ruins
7. Stand in the center of Stonehenge
8. Write a novel
9. Catch a king crab
10. Graduate from college
11. Own a black cocker spaniel (Chauncey P. Radcliffe, Baylee, Sadie)
12. Travel to Scotland
13. Be at Prudhoe Bay at the Summer Solstice
14. Visit 50 LDS temples
15. Drive the Al-Can Highway (5 times now!)
16. Learn a foreign language
17. Grow a sunflower in Alaska (I did it this past summer!)
18. Own my own library (I count North Summit's library as my own! 7 years)
19. Read the Book of Mormon (I think I'm on my sixth time now)
20. Read the Old Testament
21. Pet a koala in Australia
22. Take a photography class
23. Earn a Masters degree
24. Finish my scrapbooks

Grandkids

What is it about grandkids that makes us so … well, gaga? I’ve thought a lot about this over the past several days as I’ve been able to spend time with each of my four grandchildren. I have been crazy about each of them since the day that they were each born. None of them has come without some type of worry. I’ve worried about the health of both mother and child each time one of them has been born. Each of them has such a special place in my heart. I’m fascinated with each milestone in their lives whether rolling over for the first time, taking first steps, losing the first tooth, or losing the oxygen tubing. I’ve had some ignorant people make comments about how the fact that three of the grandkids aren’t really mine, but I laugh as I comment that they most certainly are. I love the comments about the fact that I look far too young to be a grandmother. Whatever it is, there is something so wonderful about being a grandma.

I love being a parent. I love watching the journeys that my children are taking in their lives. Sometimes the journeys are painful, and sometimes the journeys are glorious. But, watching the grandchildren adds a new dimension to everything. Through their eyes, I get to experience the joys of watching my children delight in their children. Through the eyes of the grandchildren, I can see the awareness of everything around them come radiating through. Through the eyes of my grandchildren, I see all of my hopes and dreams for their parents coming out. Through the eyes of my grandchildren, I see the bright and beautiful eyes of my children.

Being a grandparent is a double-edged sword, though. Not only do we celebrate when our children celebrate their children’s daily accomplishments, but we also feel their despair when their children are in jeopardy. Nothing is as wonderful as watching my child’s eyes light up with the joy of seeing his child’s smile; nothing is worse than not being able to take away my child’s anguish when he doesn’t know if he’ll see his child’s smile again.

I wouldn’t trade being a grandma for anything.

I Get Sort of Homesick Sometimes . . .

Today, I was homesick. I still am for that matter. But, my homesickness is difficult to describe, I fear. I went to Coalville today -- first time back in a year. I lived there longer than I've lived anywhere else in my life. My children grew up there. My family became a family there. I became a grandmother there. I raised chickens, grew a garden, renovated a house, made friends, wept tears of joy and sorrow, and totally immersed my life in that community. But, I found that as I drove into the valley, my homesickness wasn't for the place, but for the people. I was excited to see my favorite hairdresser. I was excited to eat at my favorite restaurant and talk with some of my favorite people from church and school. I was excited as I walked the halls of North Summit and heard the whispers of the past years lingering through the empty, summertime halls. There were bittersweet feelings as I drove through the community. But, surprisingly enough, as I drove past the house, I smiled and didn't feel the heartache that I felt last summer as I drove away from my home. Instead, I murmured a prayer of gratitude that I'd had that place and then drove back down the canyon to my parents' home.

I pondered homesickness today. The feeling of being homesick is more of a yearning for the things that make us who we are. Sometimes I yearn for the home I had before my birth. Sometimes I get really homesick for the home of my youth when my brother, sister, and I fought like crazy, but then loved playing with each other as well. That's the home of Mom's cooking, reading under the bedcovers, making boats out of the couch cushions, pulling out the sofabed and having Dad sneak in to scare us, making tents out of the quilts, watching for Dad's police car to come home, fishing with the family, camping, laughing, and going on some of our rides just to turn around once we got there because we'd arrived and that was good enough. Sometimes I really miss that time and our family.

I get very homesick for the times when my children were little. Being around the grandchildren has a way of doing that to me, especially the past couple of days when I have snuggled Jonathan and Lucas. I hunger to hold my infants again and to whisper things that I've learned to help make their lives a little less stressful. I would love to cherish the time that they were growing up just a little longer, noticing every little milestone with a more intensive microscope so that I could preserve those precious little details more fully in my heart as they moved on to the next step. Where did those years go?

I have pondered often the past 10 1/2 years with Mike. Those years have flown by! I've learned how to savor the times that Mike and I are together, but even still, there are days that I wish I could slow the clock down so that I can have more. The years of the new combined family are years that I wish we could relive so that once again we could make the most of the times that we were together -- whether spending more time at the lake, camping, family vacations, Sunday dinners, playing games, following the boys' sports, cutting Christmas trees, and just being together. I get homesick for those times -- I think Sunday dinner is the one I miss the most. If I could go back, I'd relax a lot more, be less critical, say "I love you" even more, and give more hugs.

Even as I reflected on the past today, I found myself homesick for my current home. Ever since Mike first took me to Alaska, I was homesick for a place that wasn't even truly mine. I was just a visitor, but I yearned for it all the same. I'm homesick for my husband and for our time together. Even when our lives get hectic and we're running in different directions, I get homesick for Mike if I don't have a chance to get a hug. His arms are a haven for me, one that I miss when life gets too crazy or I'm away. The family thinks we're silly sometimes, but that's ok. We're steady.

I miss the people who have touched my life whether as momentary visitors in my world or those who touched it in large ways and have altered it forever. Childhood friendships, high school pals, college roommates, teaching buddies, church family, best friends, siblings, parents -- they all have helped to shape me into who I am today. I wish sometimes that I could go back to share with them the significance that they've had in my life. I've tried at various times to remember to tell people like the beautiful lady who dropped into my life at one point and shared a Young Women's activity with our family which helped to change my life and bring me back to church. It's nice to know when we touch a life for the good, so I have always wanted her to know. It was rewarding to see her reaction as I shared the memory with her and thanked her. She had had no idea that her fulfillment of her calling had meant so much to me. Still does.

I know that when I leave Utah in a few days, I will be ecstatic to be home again. But, in no time at all, I will feel the pangs of homesickness once again as I leave the next generation that has snared my heart. My beautiful little girls who first laid the word "gramma" on my ears with their sweet voices. The big wonderful eyes of little Jonathan, and the sweet, tender heart of our baby Lucas. They have marked themselves permanently upon my heart and I will forever miss them wherever I am, even when I'm just in the next room.

I get sort of homesick, sometimes ... all the time. But, you know, the lesson I've learned and that I'm still learning is that because of these feelings, I need to seize every moment and suck the marrow from life. If I do this, then during those moments of homesickness, I can be content knowing that I have created wonderful memories worthy of missing.

What a busy summer!

I can't believe how incredibly busy this summer has been. After getting back from Utah on May 31, Mike and I dove right back into cabin work and garden building. I constructed three large garden boxes and hauled three loads of dirt (long-bed pickups hold A LOT of dirt!) in order to fill those boxes. I was a little late in getting things planted, but to date, I have one tomato (lots of blossoms), several green peppers, lots of potatoes, one little cauliflower, and a lot of strawberries growing. We'll see how things survive this coming week without me there to water. I'm trusting Mike, Meghan, and Cory to take care of things while I'm gone.

Cory and Mom Berezay landed in Alaska on July 1. Mom B stayed for two weeks. Cory is still here. Mike's Uncle Larry and Aunt Debbie came down from Fairbanks to help us put our power into the cabin. We have lights! We are actually living in the cabin! Next step is to get the plumbing all done. We've had a slower July, though, than we would have liked, but between lots of company and the beginning of the real fish runs, we haven't had a lot of time to work. Currently, Mike and Cory are working on the insulation. We have an outhouse thanks to Meghan, Cory, and Mike. I've been trying to keep food on the table and laundry done (it's expensive to go to the laundromat!) and help wherever my hands can help out.

Mom and Dad Grant arrived in Alaska the same day that Mom B headed home. It was fun visiting with everyone. Mom and I went for a fun-filled trip to Seward. We all went for a terrific ride out in the Caribou Hills with my brother Bob. And, of course, more fishing. Bob's wife Diana outfished us all with her huge king salmon. Cory was so jealous! Meghan and I learned what it was like to dipnet when Bob took us out last week. Meghan and I brought in 26 sockeye (reds) salmon. I've been smoking a lot of salmon -- it is so yummy! I'll try to get pictures of our summer posted soon. Our internet connection at home is pretty slow, so maybe while I'm in Utah I can get something together on here.

Now, I'm on my way to see my beautiful grandchildren. When I last was in Utah, Lucas had just come out of his second surgery, so I didn't get the chance to snuggle him like I desperately wanted to do. Mike promised me that I could go back before school started. So, now I'm in the Seattle airport waiting for my connecting flight. I get to snuggle Jonathan today and then cuddle Lucas in the evening. What a great life! Lucas has been home for about a month. He has continually improved. He now takes a bottle and is off of his specialized formula. His supplemental oxygen has been reduced to just nights. Grant and Kris asked if I wanted to babysit next weekend when they take time off to celebrate their first anniversary. They didn't have to twist my arm. Kris even warned me that it would require waking up every three hours to feed Luke, but not even the lack of sleep would keep me from this task. I hope that this week I can get a picture of all four grandkids together. Nicole has talked about going to Salt Lake as well so that she can meet Lucas. We'll see what happens.

A few weeks ago, I ran across a scrap of paper that had some of my feelings about Alaska on it. I've struggled for years with Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). But, this past winter, I was surprised to find that my blahs were much lower than I've had in years. One day as I was driving home from town, it hit me that I was truly content with my life. I jotted down the following thoughts on January 31. When I was sharing my July with my mother and mother-in-law, some of these thoughts and emotions came out in our discussions. I wanted to post this here as well.

COMING HOME

No sadness so far this winter,

Looking for space – to find out who I am
Alaska – freedom – at peace
No longer searching, seeking
If there’s an answer, it’s just that it’s just that way!

What makes this so perfect?
I miss my family terribly,
But for the first time in my life –
I truly feel at home.

Looking to know and understand –
It’s a sweet, sweet dream
Sometimes I’ve almost been here
No longings or yearnings to be somewhere else.

I feel as if this has always been waiting –
This place, and
This man!

I watch the eagles fly past my window, hear their chortling.
Surrounded by mysteries of unknown flora,
Learning to adapt to nature’s challenges.
Longings and distant rhythms are finally silenced.

I’m always searching for the words to convey the swelling in my breast –
the reaching into my depths to express my joys –
my hunger for something unknown but so familiar.
Where is the word?
What is it?
How can I ever find it?

Mystic rhythms captured my heart, carried it away…
Brought it here…
Home!

Who would have thought completeness could occur
So far from the expectations of those who know me best?

~ 31 January 2009
Ninilchik, Alaska

Cabin Update

Mike, Meghan, and I have been working diligently at the cabin. Tonight we were able to get the beams up for the loft. Here are pictures from the past several days of work.