Book Club Calendar 2011

Just in case you want some good reading ideas, here is my book club calendar for the year.

January—The Bridge at Andau by James Michener

February—Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout

March—Sarah's Key by Tatiana de Rosnay

April—Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese

May—Abundance by Sena Jeter Naslund

June—Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

July—The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman

August—I Still Dream of You by Fannie Flagg

September—The Wednesday Wars by Gary Schmidt

October—Kill the Clock by Sunny Kreis Collins

November—Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card

Four-year old fears

In case you have ever wondered what a four-year old fears, I will give you a snap shot. Sharks in the toilet. Getting locked in a hot car. Getting married and having kids and having to move out of mom and dad's home. Someone behind the shower curtain when you are sitting on the toilet. Lest you think that this is stranger phobia, I'll explain, when I asked Ceece for clarification she said that she is worried that the person behind the curtain can smell it when things get stinky and it is a little embarrassing for her. In dreams the fears get a little bigger. Last night Ceece came into my room and said she had a bad dream that she was at an amusement park and there was a statue of T-Rex there. Next to it was a red button that said "Don't touch". Claire said she pushed the button and T-Rex came alive and started eating people. Now that is scary.

So what do mom's of a four-year old fear? The end of naps. Painful insults from other children. Growing up too fast. Getting lost or worse snatched. I faced this fear on Friday while we were at Seaworld. We were with a large group of cousins and aunts and uncles so the kids kind of walked en masse everywhere. At one point we left the indoor aquarium and walked to the tide pool. I thought for sure that Ceece was with the kid group that went to the tide pool, but when I got there she was no where to be seen. I internally panicked, left Kens with the group and ran back to the aquarium. The aquarium wasn't well lit and I couldn't see much when I got inside. I ran frantically to the tanks we had just visited and then across the dark room I saw a sole spotlight on the floor, much like one you would see on a stage, illuminating my Claire who was performing some grand pirouettes and then some pretty impressive leaps. I watched her for a few seconds, saved the mental image, ran to her, picked her up and gave her a big hug.

I didn't even bother to tell her she was lost or how worried I was because in a second I realized that sometimes fears are just that, fears. We get worried about a lot of things that are POSSIBLE, but not many that are probable. Watching Claire twirl I realized that most the time things do go right, accidents don't happen, we're healthy and surrounded by people we love and life turns out pretty good.

***Right after I posted this, Dave read it and said, "Tara, don't jinx us."***

Visiting Grandpa Arlie

This week I got a phone call from my dad saying that my 92-year-old grandpa's health was failing and that his hospice worker recommended that people start coming to say their last goodbyes. We packed up the next morning and my brother Aaron, his wife, kids, Claire and I drove to Mesa to go see him. My dad and my step-mom met us there.

My dad wasn't raised by his father and although I always knew my grandpa I haven't seen him often over the past few years, but I really wanted to see him now. He has dementia and isn't very lucid most of the time so I wasn't sure how meaningful it would be for him to see us, but it turned out to be such a great experience to spend a few hours with him. When we walked in he turned immediately to my dad, extended his hand and said, "Jackie Lee, my eldest son." He wasn't so clear on who the rest of us were, but his warmth of greeting was wonderful.

I reminded him shortly after arriving that when I was a kid, starting about the time I was 13 each time I would see or talk with him that he would ask, "Are you pregnant yet?" I thought it was pretty funny as a straight-laced Mormon girl. So this time I told him that I could finally answer "yes" to his question. His quick quip back was, "Well do you know who the father is?" It was astonishing to me that, although he didn't even know where we were, his humor was intact.

We sat with him for several hours, talked to him, reminded him of things in the past, held his hand and smoothed his hair. He fell asleep after about 30 minutes, but it was so serene we couldn't leave. I kept thinking about childhood memories of grandpa Arlie, from the ever present aroma of pipe smoke and that sheriff's Stetson hat tipped to the side to the actual jail cells and guns in the basement of his house in Kansas. As a child, and even an adult, I loved hearing stories of his adventures from his years as a mounted sheriff (who'd even chased down a train on horse to catch a criminal) and as a soldier in WWII to whispered stories of his pre-war bootlegging and card playing days and marrying my grandma Jane when was she was still a teen without her parent's consent. Mostly, I always remember him telling me that he loved and respected my mother, even many years after my parents divorced.

I marveled that being with someone preparing to go home, is so similar with being with someone who just left home. It's quiet. There is not much to say, except to express love and gratitude. It is peaceful. And touching seems like a natural thing to do. I can't imagine holding my grandpa's hand and caressing his face if he wasn't in such a weak condition, but I kept unconsciously putting my hand from him to my stomach where I would pat my own baby. It made me happy to think that without my grandpa Arlie and my baby-to-be ever sharing earthly space that they are part of each other and my baby could inherit his card sharp skills or his keen sense of humor and hopefully, hopefully, his genuineness.