Well, what a week! (is that an understatement or what?)
We are all perfect in Gods eyes; is that not what religion teaches us? Aren’t we supposed to overlook each other’s shortcomings and learn to love others souls not what they look like or their deformities?
I like to think that I see people for who they are not what they look like! I mean, my teen/twenties friend Katrina always said that I "saw people for the inside - not the outside"...DID SHE LIE?
After yesterday I made the realization that I judge people by how they treat me....ME! I really have no scruples about what someone looks like just how kind they are to me...no matter whom they REALLY are - that does not mean one IOTA! Is that really me?!?!??!
I made a huge mistake. I kept tally. Do you know what that means? I kept track of the ugly or misguided things that a loved one did over the years; neglecting anything good that they may have done or shown in actions.
THEN, I made the mistake of pressing the "SEND" key. (Word to the wise; ALWAYS just keep whatever you write as a "draft" until you sleep on it')
On top of that....AM I SELFISH?!?!?!?!?
YES...yes, apparently I am.
I am the youngest of three sisters. The "spoiled one". I will not lie. I am completely spoiled. Somehow I have always felt entitled?
What the heck?!?!?
Yep, figured that one out this week also. Not that I didn't have any clues to that fact before but, I never wanted to acknowledge it to myself or anyone else. (Well, mainly myself.)I have lived most of my life at the bottom of one pickle jar or another - and, it has always been my sister Julie's full time job to fish me out of the jar! Apparently, I am branching out to friends and OTHER family members now!
But, financially this will mean that I have not just one dim light at the end of the tunnel but one VERY BRIGHT LIGHT there! FINALLY!
You see; my sense of entitlement has gotten me thousands of dollars in debt over the years. My credit sucks (my saying is if someone ever stole my identity they would return it QUICK!) I needed money to pay bills. So, I did the white trash thing and I went to every "payday" loan place around- even hitting up a signature loan place! Oh they were the worst! Out of every $200.00 payment I made (every two weeks) only about $0.95 went to my principal! Can we all say RIP OFF? Or maybe stamp "sucker" on my forehead?
You see; I am smart. TOO smart. I have always caught onto things almost- too quickly. I never really accepted, or acknowledged that fact until recently. And, stubborn?!?!?!?! Heck, if you Google the word MY PICTURE pops up! I would walk over broken glass in bare feet before ever admitting that I am sincerely, wrong. Well, until recently, now I see how wrong I have been and how my sense of entitlement has been a destructive force in MY life and many others.
My sister Julie (that I live with) has told me time and time again that "Don't you see, what you do with your finances affects me!" Somehow, ignorance IS bliss.
If I don't look at it...it's not there - RIGHT?
Well, if I just pay the bill and DON'T look at the receipt; They aren't charging me a zillion dollars in interest; eh?
Let's just say that I keep doing these things, and they keep coming back to bite me in the butt.
Time to:
#1. Take off the rose colored glasses.
#2. STOP IT...learn from your mistakes!
All of the above = LEARN FROM YOUR MISTAKES, LEARN HUMILITY, ACCEPT YOURSELF AND OTHERS INPERFECTIONS, and realize that NOBODY'S ENTITLED!
Okay, let’s go back to the main subject...I'm not perfect?
No, none of us are perfect. Some may think that they are, but they aren't.
We all just try.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
I am my mother?
I stop and think....why am I here? Have I a purpose on this earth?
Yes, we all serve a purpose.
Lately, I have been having quite the struggle; let me explain...I grew up in a normal family, dysfunctional in almost every possible way. I am finally realizing that everyone has "hang ups" and "issues" but, somehow I have had a constant craving to 'fix' my issues. Many people just choose to see their life as totally normal, go on either successfully finding coping skills to avoid propagating the dysfunctions. Possibly, just living in denial and passing those issues onto future generations.
For years I have known I thought completely differently than others. (Though MY WAY was the correct way, of course!)
I recently did the math. I have been in some kind of mental and emotional therapy for over ten years. TEN YEARS!
With that said, I have learned quite a lot of what I thought was my problems, lets start from my impressions of my mom.
My mother that had a defeated self esteem paired with a hot temper along with a focus problem (ADHD I now see), and borderline hoarding issues. She came with the positive attributes of being a nurturing (sometimes almost smothering mother and wife, smart, outspoken, funny and beautiful inside and out). Mind you, she had her moments; as I am seeing mirrored in my actions and thinking as I get older. The statement "I am my mother" is quite true in many sense of the words with me.
I see her as a kindred spirit. Let me see how I can express the similarities?
My mother could be one of the kindest people in the world. She would give anything to anyone; even if it meant giving them her own prized possessions or giving of her time and money (neither of which she had much of for very long). From what I have been told, her father Charles was much the same. A man that would "give you the shirt off of his back". I wouldn't know that about him - personally, as I was born the April after he died. I like to think he got to know me in heaven, and gave me a spiritual link to his soul in heaven? His kindness and gifts for accomplishment - through my mother’s genes and actions in giving life to me.
My mother could also be a terror. She was a very passionate person; and again, we have much of that in common. When I was younger, I would fly into irrational rage in a blink of an eye (I have since TRIED to control that trait - sometimes I slip, but not often). My mom did her best to reign in her own temper, unfortunately she was blessed with me when she was 40 and shortly thereafter; going through menopause. I tested her every nerve, and was a continual irritation and love in her life. We were close in ways I do feel that my sisters were not privileged to experience in their relationship with my mother (who I will just refer to as "mom" from this point on, as she always felt that "mother" was much too formal).
My mom and I were compadres. We were together through thick and thin. Looking back, there were thinner than thick times. But, we survived the best way that we could.
I've always felt that she and I were WAY too similar. She was the third and youngest sister in her family (no brothers); I was also the third and youngest sister in our family (no brothers).
She was a self admitted "wild child" of sorts when growing up in a small Southern Utah town during the 40's and 50's. She was the "black sheep" in the family; and somehow I feel as if she wouldn't have done anything differently than she did during her life...even the many decisions that made her road bumpy and hard.
She was raised as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints aka; Mormon. I believe that she had a strong testimony up until the moment of her death. Mom was married three times; my oldest sister is from her second marriage. In those days I am sure it was quite the scandal and challenge to be a single mother during the 50's. (She found herself pregnant during the divorce process and my sister's "sperm donor" never 'manned up' enough to admit he was the father; and subsequently my father legally adopted her.)
She was quite the pioneer spirit; as she was ahead of the curve on that lifestyle! Being a "single mother" in the 50's was a rarity. According to my research; only 11% of US mothers were classified as single mothers in 1950 compared to 31% in 2002. Mom found a husband in my dad Albert E. Turner, and they were married for over 24 years. During that time we were all victim to (mainly) emotional abuse from both mom and dad.
Do not get me wrong, we had fun and happy times on trips and in our house. We were not unlike any other family in that sense. We didn't KNOW any different, at least I didn't. Getting back to the comparisons to my mom -I too have felt very much, the "black sheep" of our family. I would do almost anything for any of my friends or family; and even some strangers! I have what mom called "the gift of gab" as she had, and also the natural charm that she exuded that attracted people to her.
I have had several people tell me that they have noticed that perfect strangers are drawn to me and that I could talk to almost anyone and strike up any conversation. I attribute that gift solely to my mom. She could be out shopping or doing errands and inevitably, she would start chatting up a sales clerk (total stranger) and either quickly identify common interests or common family lineage! As a youngster I felt embarrassed by this talent, just to grow up to find that I had inherited the same exact talent!
Now, I almost speak of my maternal grandfather as if I knew him on this earth, and though I DID know my maternal grandmother - I cannot seem to recall much of her personality. She died when I was 8 years old. The most that I can envision from my visits with her are physical things, such as the dimensions of their home in Kanab Utah or the way that I would try to jump to tinkle the oriental looking wind chime that hung in the middle of the arched doorframe between the dining room and living room at my grandma's home. I just remember that she always had me check pennies to "see if there was an 'S' stamped as the mint stamp" as it would be worth tons of money...and, she always had these big disk cherry chewable vitamin C tablets in a big bottle above the stove that she would give me as a "treat" (strange but true!).
I, personally, do not have all of the fond personal memories of "Grandma Sue" as my older sisters do; so I only base much of my personal history on one generation on my mother’s side of my life.
My mom was a wonderful strong woman. She was a truly good person in her heart. God must've known her struggles- as when she was diagnosed with colon cancer; she knew little pain (even though the cancer had spread to her liver, stomach, and lung); in the subsequent three weeks until she left these earthly bonds. I often wonder why I feel that her death was the most wondrous experience of my short life. I was all of 29 when my mom died at out apartment home that we had lived in for 13 years, (as-like me, my mom was not a great money manager and when she received her half of the proceeds from the sale of our home in Lakewood, Colorado; she ended up spending all of the money on living expenses and basically life’s little pleasures - so, yes we lived in a small two bedroom apartment for 13 years).
Anyway, when my mom died - I had felt love and closure. Mom had told me (and I am sure both my sisters) that we were the best thing she had ever done in her life. (The words that I have since measured MY LIFE with, almost every day.)
I firmly believe that she died on her own terms. She willed herself to go peacefully as to avoid being any type of burden to Julie and I (even though both of our employers had been extraordinary to work with us to leave little time for her to be without us during any 24 hours). She died on Saturday 21st 1995; in the evening. I have always felt a bit guilty because we weren't "surrounding her" when she slipped into Heavenly Father's loving arms. But, Julie and I were in the front room going through her cherished scrapbooks, pictures and memories; as she lay in the bedroom unconscious since the previous day (When the hospice nurse had visited and told us that she felt strongly that she wouldn't live through the weekend and, to keep in mind that "tears were goof for the complexion"). I had called my friend from when I had been attending the local singles ward, who had her new husband and another priesthood holder come Friday the 20th to give mom a blessing. She was unmoving, but my friends husband swore that she opened her eyes and smiled slightly just after they administered to her. We had a 'boom box' playing big band music; (actually Barry Manilow's Big Band tape) and as I sat on the mustard yellow 1970's shag carpet in the doorway of our apartment looking through pictures; my cat Buffy (while sitting on the old painted bentwood ice cream chair in front of me); looked down the hallway that lead to the bedroom where my mom lay in the hospital bed. I got up from the floor to check on mom, and stopped at the doorway, as I could tell that even though the oxygen tubes were still making that horrendous noise, mom had slipped away. I called for Julie and we both went to her bedside, as I am confident she had just died. Her hands were still warm, though her spirit was certainly void from her body, it embraced Julie and I as our tears cleansed our complexions. It was as close to God as I have ever been.
So, my mom finally succeeded in bringing her little "black sheep" to the face of God in her presence. (Though, since that time I have lost my way many many times, I still hold the Lord close to my heart).
Wow....I sure got on a tangent, but I am glad that I did. I am out of time for now; but I'll get the rest out of this brain sometime soon in a separate blog. All my love.
Yes, we all serve a purpose.
Lately, I have been having quite the struggle; let me explain...I grew up in a normal family, dysfunctional in almost every possible way. I am finally realizing that everyone has "hang ups" and "issues" but, somehow I have had a constant craving to 'fix' my issues. Many people just choose to see their life as totally normal, go on either successfully finding coping skills to avoid propagating the dysfunctions. Possibly, just living in denial and passing those issues onto future generations.
For years I have known I thought completely differently than others. (Though MY WAY was the correct way, of course!)
I recently did the math. I have been in some kind of mental and emotional therapy for over ten years. TEN YEARS!
With that said, I have learned quite a lot of what I thought was my problems, lets start from my impressions of my mom.
My mother that had a defeated self esteem paired with a hot temper along with a focus problem (ADHD I now see), and borderline hoarding issues. She came with the positive attributes of being a nurturing (sometimes almost smothering mother and wife, smart, outspoken, funny and beautiful inside and out). Mind you, she had her moments; as I am seeing mirrored in my actions and thinking as I get older. The statement "I am my mother" is quite true in many sense of the words with me.
I see her as a kindred spirit. Let me see how I can express the similarities?
My mother could be one of the kindest people in the world. She would give anything to anyone; even if it meant giving them her own prized possessions or giving of her time and money (neither of which she had much of for very long). From what I have been told, her father Charles was much the same. A man that would "give you the shirt off of his back". I wouldn't know that about him - personally, as I was born the April after he died. I like to think he got to know me in heaven, and gave me a spiritual link to his soul in heaven? His kindness and gifts for accomplishment - through my mother’s genes and actions in giving life to me.
My mother could also be a terror. She was a very passionate person; and again, we have much of that in common. When I was younger, I would fly into irrational rage in a blink of an eye (I have since TRIED to control that trait - sometimes I slip, but not often). My mom did her best to reign in her own temper, unfortunately she was blessed with me when she was 40 and shortly thereafter; going through menopause. I tested her every nerve, and was a continual irritation and love in her life. We were close in ways I do feel that my sisters were not privileged to experience in their relationship with my mother (who I will just refer to as "mom" from this point on, as she always felt that "mother" was much too formal).
My mom and I were compadres. We were together through thick and thin. Looking back, there were thinner than thick times. But, we survived the best way that we could.
I've always felt that she and I were WAY too similar. She was the third and youngest sister in her family (no brothers); I was also the third and youngest sister in our family (no brothers).
She was a self admitted "wild child" of sorts when growing up in a small Southern Utah town during the 40's and 50's. She was the "black sheep" in the family; and somehow I feel as if she wouldn't have done anything differently than she did during her life...even the many decisions that made her road bumpy and hard.
She was raised as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints aka; Mormon. I believe that she had a strong testimony up until the moment of her death. Mom was married three times; my oldest sister is from her second marriage. In those days I am sure it was quite the scandal and challenge to be a single mother during the 50's. (She found herself pregnant during the divorce process and my sister's "sperm donor" never 'manned up' enough to admit he was the father; and subsequently my father legally adopted her.)
She was quite the pioneer spirit; as she was ahead of the curve on that lifestyle! Being a "single mother" in the 50's was a rarity. According to my research; only 11% of US mothers were classified as single mothers in 1950 compared to 31% in 2002. Mom found a husband in my dad Albert E. Turner, and they were married for over 24 years. During that time we were all victim to (mainly) emotional abuse from both mom and dad.
Do not get me wrong, we had fun and happy times on trips and in our house. We were not unlike any other family in that sense. We didn't KNOW any different, at least I didn't. Getting back to the comparisons to my mom -I too have felt very much, the "black sheep" of our family. I would do almost anything for any of my friends or family; and even some strangers! I have what mom called "the gift of gab" as she had, and also the natural charm that she exuded that attracted people to her.
I have had several people tell me that they have noticed that perfect strangers are drawn to me and that I could talk to almost anyone and strike up any conversation. I attribute that gift solely to my mom. She could be out shopping or doing errands and inevitably, she would start chatting up a sales clerk (total stranger) and either quickly identify common interests or common family lineage! As a youngster I felt embarrassed by this talent, just to grow up to find that I had inherited the same exact talent!
Now, I almost speak of my maternal grandfather as if I knew him on this earth, and though I DID know my maternal grandmother - I cannot seem to recall much of her personality. She died when I was 8 years old. The most that I can envision from my visits with her are physical things, such as the dimensions of their home in Kanab Utah or the way that I would try to jump to tinkle the oriental looking wind chime that hung in the middle of the arched doorframe between the dining room and living room at my grandma's home. I just remember that she always had me check pennies to "see if there was an 'S' stamped as the mint stamp" as it would be worth tons of money...and, she always had these big disk cherry chewable vitamin C tablets in a big bottle above the stove that she would give me as a "treat" (strange but true!).
I, personally, do not have all of the fond personal memories of "Grandma Sue" as my older sisters do; so I only base much of my personal history on one generation on my mother’s side of my life.
My mom was a wonderful strong woman. She was a truly good person in her heart. God must've known her struggles- as when she was diagnosed with colon cancer; she knew little pain (even though the cancer had spread to her liver, stomach, and lung); in the subsequent three weeks until she left these earthly bonds. I often wonder why I feel that her death was the most wondrous experience of my short life. I was all of 29 when my mom died at out apartment home that we had lived in for 13 years, (as-like me, my mom was not a great money manager and when she received her half of the proceeds from the sale of our home in Lakewood, Colorado; she ended up spending all of the money on living expenses and basically life’s little pleasures - so, yes we lived in a small two bedroom apartment for 13 years).
Anyway, when my mom died - I had felt love and closure. Mom had told me (and I am sure both my sisters) that we were the best thing she had ever done in her life. (The words that I have since measured MY LIFE with, almost every day.)
I firmly believe that she died on her own terms. She willed herself to go peacefully as to avoid being any type of burden to Julie and I (even though both of our employers had been extraordinary to work with us to leave little time for her to be without us during any 24 hours). She died on Saturday 21st 1995; in the evening. I have always felt a bit guilty because we weren't "surrounding her" when she slipped into Heavenly Father's loving arms. But, Julie and I were in the front room going through her cherished scrapbooks, pictures and memories; as she lay in the bedroom unconscious since the previous day (When the hospice nurse had visited and told us that she felt strongly that she wouldn't live through the weekend and, to keep in mind that "tears were goof for the complexion"). I had called my friend from when I had been attending the local singles ward, who had her new husband and another priesthood holder come Friday the 20th to give mom a blessing. She was unmoving, but my friends husband swore that she opened her eyes and smiled slightly just after they administered to her. We had a 'boom box' playing big band music; (actually Barry Manilow's Big Band tape) and as I sat on the mustard yellow 1970's shag carpet in the doorway of our apartment looking through pictures; my cat Buffy (while sitting on the old painted bentwood ice cream chair in front of me); looked down the hallway that lead to the bedroom where my mom lay in the hospital bed. I got up from the floor to check on mom, and stopped at the doorway, as I could tell that even though the oxygen tubes were still making that horrendous noise, mom had slipped away. I called for Julie and we both went to her bedside, as I am confident she had just died. Her hands were still warm, though her spirit was certainly void from her body, it embraced Julie and I as our tears cleansed our complexions. It was as close to God as I have ever been.
So, my mom finally succeeded in bringing her little "black sheep" to the face of God in her presence. (Though, since that time I have lost my way many many times, I still hold the Lord close to my heart).
Wow....I sure got on a tangent, but I am glad that I did. I am out of time for now; but I'll get the rest out of this brain sometime soon in a separate blog. All my love.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Lazy Labor Day Weekend
My friends and collegues all tell me that I have missed my calling?
I am not so sure about that. Well, of all things that I do know about myself; the one thing that I am sure about is that I am anything BUT motivated.
Somehow sitting in front of my computer equals either work or endlessly playing Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook.
(Sorry took a break to play a few games.)
So goes my holiday weekend. Too broke to "surprise" my dad with a trip to Denver. (Thanks Dad for pouring on the guilt last night!)
So, Saturday consisted of getting up at 7:00am; takingthe dog out - coming back in and sleeping for a couple more hours - then; up and out to get some coffee - going to the nail place to have my nails filled then to Joe Morleys for take out BBQ taken to a local park by the Jordan River Parkway then back home for a fun filled night of watching 48 hours on television and playing...again...Bejewled Blitz!
I am not so sure about that. Well, of all things that I do know about myself; the one thing that I am sure about is that I am anything BUT motivated.
Somehow sitting in front of my computer equals either work or endlessly playing Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook.
(Sorry took a break to play a few games.)
So goes my holiday weekend. Too broke to "surprise" my dad with a trip to Denver. (Thanks Dad for pouring on the guilt last night!)
So, Saturday consisted of getting up at 7:00am; takingthe dog out - coming back in and sleeping for a couple more hours - then; up and out to get some coffee - going to the nail place to have my nails filled then to Joe Morleys for take out BBQ taken to a local park by the Jordan River Parkway then back home for a fun filled night of watching 48 hours on television and playing...again...Bejewled Blitz!
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Susie's Big Adventure....Running the River 08/14/2010
Do you ever find yourself driving in the mountains, and see a serene rafts, tubes, canoes and kayaks with people happily riding, and think "I should do that someday, it sure looks calm, beautiful and most of all FUN!"
Well, since I am working to get out of my comfort zone, "out of the box"; 'bucket list' whatever you wanna call it; when some friends at work were planning a trip tubing down the Provo River; I jumped at the chance!
So I made my plans, and then when the day came- I picked up a co-worker (Annie) and we ventured off to 'Happy Valley' for our noon trip down the river!
We start at Vivian Park, since we had such a large group it was only $10 a head instead of the usual $15 for a tube. Of course each one of us had to sign a waiver stating that we would not hold High Country Expeditions responsible for any sort of bodily injury or death that may be incurred by the experience....foreshadowing of the impending doom!
We were all excited as we boarded the old yellow school busses to travel farther up the canyon to the drop off point. The guide, all the way asking us to look out the window to see specific landmarks that we would need to either steer clear of or around. There is an old trestle bridge that they ask us to "pull over and lug the tube on a trail over the bridge to re-embark on the other side, as it is not a travel under- safely bridge with sharp rebar and railing from trestles all in the way threatening to damage the tube (one was fairly visible-at least the remains of which were still attached-shredded stuck on the afore mentioned rebar fluttering in the water current).
Not letting my old fear deter me, I got out of the bus with my friends, all full of energy...proud of the special water shoes that Andy had given to me, thinking that I was more than prepared with the rented life jacket, water bottle in pocket of said life jacket, dollar store sunglasses, sunscreen applied, and happy face. (Even had my friend take a pic of me before the trip...but alas my cell phone must've erased it.) They threw the tubes at us out of the back of a big white truck- Annie and I picked inflated ones that looked newer than the rest, and headed down to the "dock"; a lovely muddy slide to the river.
Annie and I were river 'virgins' so our saying was from the movie Backdraft; "you go, I go!"....I was first off of our group, and swiftly flew down the rushing river water...it was a beautiful day, and I yelled "YAHOO!" in victory of my courage...little did I know what lie shortly ahead of me. I looked back in an attempt to assist Annie as she was drifting towards the brush on the edge of the river...she seemed to be doing okay, but she is probably 100 lbs. (if that) soaking wet; and shorter than I; so having difficulty using her arms and feet to 'steer" the unmanageable circles we sat on covered with a canvas under and on the sides with handles.
Next thing you know, she had tipped and fell into the icy rushing water losing hold of her tube that came flowing down the river towards me. Taking our promise seriously, I got off of my tube and tried to stand in the calm LOOKING water (that had a current flowing at about a zillion miles a second) managing to hold onto my tube; (now upside down and pulling furiously at me---threatening to toss me over into the frigid three feet of rushing water) - grabbing her upside down tube and managing to flip it back over for her- as she was rescued by another group of tubing buddies...compares of the river, to get down to where I was now struggling, against the current and the bushes, to right MY tube. I thought I would let it drag me to the middle where it was deeper to get back on....wow, worked somehow, and I was again floating down the river, about a fourth of the way down...when again I capsized! This time, not such mental clarity was present, I had inhaled quite a bit of cold river water into my nose and mouth and I was disoriented...again dragging my shins along the sharp bottom rocks of the river, only then noticing that my lovely "water shoes" were in shreds and impeding my progress. Now aware that I am basically barefoot and being dragged down the river by an upside down tube -I almost resign myself to traveling the rest of the way down in that position - and probably being ripped to shreds under the bridge...PANIC MODE set in!
Just then a tall dark stranger (handsome man; probably from Ecuador or South America); in a grey raft with a motley crew consisting a kind compassionate mother, 40-50 yrs old with red cropped hair, two sons, in their 20's...at the helm, 80 (if not a day) yr old grandpa, grumpy salt and pepper bearded dad 50's and daughter; came up and asked me if I needed help? Hells Bells...YES I needed help; screw the pride, I wanted to LIVE! I have no upped body strength...something I have been lacking most of my life, and even though I have lost15 lbs., I am still quite the BBW to drag into a raft, especially soaking wet and desperately holding onto the tube handle "just in case". Da'vid and the dad helped pull me in- I grabbed one of the paddles, at that time I choked out that my shoes were off or destroyed...Da'vid looked and said "obliterated"...and somehow I climbed up into the raft...panting, and thankful that God had sent these angels to help me.
I was still holding the handle of the tube, so they asked if I wanted to stay with them, or try for the tube again, since I looked at my scraps for shoes, I accepted their offer wholeheartedly, and gladly turned over my tube to one of their family members. The mom explained that they were having a big family get together, and that Da'vid was a son in law; wife on another mode of transport down the "hell river", and that they were celebrating an impending wedding (two weeks). (I was officially a 'Wedding Crasher'- of sorts)
They told me their names, but in my state of recovery, I now cannot recall any of the names- except Da'vid...the night in shining armor! He was the only one to notice that my thumb nail had broken down into my thumb and was bleeding and that I had a few bumps with gashes that were oozing blood...I assured him that the cuts were tolerable to assuage his concern.
Da'vid was OBVIOUSLY not dad-in-law's favorite man....criticizing his rowing, snapping at him when he paused to wave at the people riding the Heber Creeper that choo choo'ed by on the track above the river. Then shortly thereafter losing hold of the paddle, and - I am sure-fearing the bite of father in-law's impending criticism, dived off the raft into the 3 feet of rushing water to retrieve the lost paddle, only to fall victim to the current....and our raft, unable to stop and wait or ground itself while he was swimming, was in turn rescued by two canoe dudes, and the "lost" paddle was retrieve and returned to us by an able bodies tubist.
I then started paddling, I didn't mind, and found that I knew how to steer THAT much better than my talent for NOT steering the tube.
After a cold, miserable looking Da'vid caught up to us sitting in the middle of the canoe, the mom suggested that he may want to try doing that with the two canoe "relatives" that had saved him. I could see in his eyes that he would love to do ANYTHING more than be in any close vicinity to the father in law...so he stayed on the canoe.
We came up on the bridge, swiftly steering the raft over to the poor excuse of a "dock"...again slick muddy dirt, at a severe angle to the river, that after chucking (with much chagrin) the now shredded shoes into the river (now I wish I had saved them for a souvenir); I was barefoot with tender feet....I managed to tip toe around big gravel stones and thanked the Lord for weeds that are not all "stickery" - and as the last one in...Managed to slip and get the bum of my jean shorts all muddy (shorts that I bought @ the consignment store the week before for $1!)...so sat on dirt the whole rest of the way. Hitchhiking for the first time in my life - on a river nonetheless!
We swiftly made it down to dock; HOME....now I just had to find my friends....they would have surely made it back before ME! I scanned the crowd of people; only to see no familiar ones. Then I was acutely aware that my feet HURT, and all around there was gravel...not small stuff, but big sharp rocky gravel! I hip hopped my way to give back my life jacket---that had surely saved me...and made it to the trailer disguised as an office for the booming business of river "adventures". I asked if anyone was looking for a person lost in their party; then with a "You'll have to ask a guide" ...I hobbled down the wooden steps to more gravel...seemed like acres!
At this point I need to interject that Annie and I had parked my car over the other side of the train tracks and river at Vivian Park; but had left our bags of "stuff" in my other friends vehicle parked down by the trailer. With that said, I had no shoes or dry clothes to change into...or car keys, or driver's license...or CELL PHONE! Okay, just something to ponder...how many telephone numbers do you know...I mean, really remember....by heart, to call if you are without your all important CELL PHONE?!?!?!?
Also, I plan on going through all of my "extra" unused shoes and sending them to Africa or donating them to a local charity; as I have been PAINFULLY reminded that shoes are VERY ESSENTIAL to your well being!
Okay, back to the 3 hour saga....wasn't there a television show about a 3 hour tour!?!?!? Ahhhhh no Gilligan's Island....nobody but, me, myself, and I ...and a bunch strangers. Tom Hanks in that movie 'Cast Away' but I had no "Wilson" just an empty water bottle, a tiny tube of sunscreen....along with my swimming suit and some dirt encrusted jean shorts. I decided that I would go over to the park...there was grass and people there, plus my beater of a car was parked there...for SURE my friends would find me!
Ummmm, not so much....I bummed water and lemonade off of families that were having picnics, asked one family if anyone had a cell phone that had service up the canyon. Found one kind young man that had a Blackberry that he offered up for use. After some coaching from him and some deep prodding of my brain, I remembered a few phone numbers. My sister Julie, of course, and my friend Lisa. After realizing that they were probably NOT answering because of an unknown number listed on the caller id (damn technology!); the Samaritan asked if my contacts texted...WHAT A CONCEPT.....I take back what I said about technology! I figured that sis would probably NOT get one, as she has a practice of "not being a slave to her phone" - but, I did text my sweet friend Lisa...and she texted me back...then called. By then, I had moved away from the picnic pavilion at the park, and the kind sir walked over to find me. I spoke with Lisa, and she had Valene's cell number (the designated tubing party leader)...who I then left a message on her number, thinking that she would have it on her person? Obviously not, I had managed to call and catch Julie at home - and she was "to the rescue"...as per usual....packing my dog, and shoes. Meanwhile, across the river...unbeknownst to me, there was a search party in progress. My friends had finally arrived at the destination, and apparently I had beaten them? Who wouldda guessed it? I thought...incorrectly, that they would come to the park since my car was there...their thought was that they had all of my stuff in a bag along with my car keys; so WHY WOULD I GO TO MY CAR?
When Julie showed up...bearing flip flops purchased on the way from SLC to Provo canyon at Family Dollar, as she had stopped at because in her haste to leave, she forgot shoes.(Why oh WHY did I not ask one of the kind picnickers to just drive me back over to the High Country dock, instead of calling my sister is a mystery to me....maybe I swallowed too much water...or maybe a small fish...and the trauma was addling my brain, I dunno...)
Julie drove me back over the rough rocks- back to the "docking area" where, low and behold, there was a very concerned Valene, her brother, and Annie...standing with some tour guides ALMOST gonna call the search and rescue team, as the guides had traveled up and down the stretch of river looking for little ol me....also, they had driven up and down the road looking for me, as maybe I had floated down the river to the other tubing place. Never ONCE did they think to drive the - maybe 300 feet over to the grassy park to see a barefoot...pink and orange print swimming suit with dirty shorts Susie...waving an empty water bottle!
Oh well....so my life is akin to an Erma Bombeck story...never a dull moment! What an adventure! All in all, it had a happy ending, other than the parts where I almost DIED!
As Annie and I laughed and giggled on the way home, it was nice to hear her experience was very close too mine, scratches and bumps on her shins, and bruises yet to make themselves known.
In the end, I WAS HAPPY to do what I did....I stepped outta the box....into ---well, CHINA....but, at least I made it out alive...with a tall tale to tell! Makes me appreciate all that I have!
Well, since I am working to get out of my comfort zone, "out of the box"; 'bucket list' whatever you wanna call it; when some friends at work were planning a trip tubing down the Provo River; I jumped at the chance!
So I made my plans, and then when the day came- I picked up a co-worker (Annie) and we ventured off to 'Happy Valley' for our noon trip down the river!
We start at Vivian Park, since we had such a large group it was only $10 a head instead of the usual $15 for a tube. Of course each one of us had to sign a waiver stating that we would not hold High Country Expeditions responsible for any sort of bodily injury or death that may be incurred by the experience....foreshadowing of the impending doom!
We were all excited as we boarded the old yellow school busses to travel farther up the canyon to the drop off point. The guide, all the way asking us to look out the window to see specific landmarks that we would need to either steer clear of or around. There is an old trestle bridge that they ask us to "pull over and lug the tube on a trail over the bridge to re-embark on the other side, as it is not a travel under- safely bridge with sharp rebar and railing from trestles all in the way threatening to damage the tube (one was fairly visible-at least the remains of which were still attached-shredded stuck on the afore mentioned rebar fluttering in the water current).
Not letting my old fear deter me, I got out of the bus with my friends, all full of energy...proud of the special water shoes that Andy had given to me, thinking that I was more than prepared with the rented life jacket, water bottle in pocket of said life jacket, dollar store sunglasses, sunscreen applied, and happy face. (Even had my friend take a pic of me before the trip...but alas my cell phone must've erased it.) They threw the tubes at us out of the back of a big white truck- Annie and I picked inflated ones that looked newer than the rest, and headed down to the "dock"; a lovely muddy slide to the river.
Annie and I were river 'virgins' so our saying was from the movie Backdraft; "you go, I go!"....I was first off of our group, and swiftly flew down the rushing river water...it was a beautiful day, and I yelled "YAHOO!" in victory of my courage...little did I know what lie shortly ahead of me. I looked back in an attempt to assist Annie as she was drifting towards the brush on the edge of the river...she seemed to be doing okay, but she is probably 100 lbs. (if that) soaking wet; and shorter than I; so having difficulty using her arms and feet to 'steer" the unmanageable circles we sat on covered with a canvas under and on the sides with handles.
Next thing you know, she had tipped and fell into the icy rushing water losing hold of her tube that came flowing down the river towards me. Taking our promise seriously, I got off of my tube and tried to stand in the calm LOOKING water (that had a current flowing at about a zillion miles a second) managing to hold onto my tube; (now upside down and pulling furiously at me---threatening to toss me over into the frigid three feet of rushing water) - grabbing her upside down tube and managing to flip it back over for her- as she was rescued by another group of tubing buddies...compares of the river, to get down to where I was now struggling, against the current and the bushes, to right MY tube. I thought I would let it drag me to the middle where it was deeper to get back on....wow, worked somehow, and I was again floating down the river, about a fourth of the way down...when again I capsized! This time, not such mental clarity was present, I had inhaled quite a bit of cold river water into my nose and mouth and I was disoriented...again dragging my shins along the sharp bottom rocks of the river, only then noticing that my lovely "water shoes" were in shreds and impeding my progress. Now aware that I am basically barefoot and being dragged down the river by an upside down tube -I almost resign myself to traveling the rest of the way down in that position - and probably being ripped to shreds under the bridge...PANIC MODE set in!
Just then a tall dark stranger (handsome man; probably from Ecuador or South America); in a grey raft with a motley crew consisting a kind compassionate mother, 40-50 yrs old with red cropped hair, two sons, in their 20's...at the helm, 80 (if not a day) yr old grandpa, grumpy salt and pepper bearded dad 50's and daughter; came up and asked me if I needed help? Hells Bells...YES I needed help; screw the pride, I wanted to LIVE! I have no upped body strength...something I have been lacking most of my life, and even though I have lost15 lbs., I am still quite the BBW to drag into a raft, especially soaking wet and desperately holding onto the tube handle "just in case". Da'vid and the dad helped pull me in- I grabbed one of the paddles, at that time I choked out that my shoes were off or destroyed...Da'vid looked and said "obliterated"...and somehow I climbed up into the raft...panting, and thankful that God had sent these angels to help me.
I was still holding the handle of the tube, so they asked if I wanted to stay with them, or try for the tube again, since I looked at my scraps for shoes, I accepted their offer wholeheartedly, and gladly turned over my tube to one of their family members. The mom explained that they were having a big family get together, and that Da'vid was a son in law; wife on another mode of transport down the "hell river", and that they were celebrating an impending wedding (two weeks). (I was officially a 'Wedding Crasher'- of sorts)
They told me their names, but in my state of recovery, I now cannot recall any of the names- except Da'vid...the night in shining armor! He was the only one to notice that my thumb nail had broken down into my thumb and was bleeding and that I had a few bumps with gashes that were oozing blood...I assured him that the cuts were tolerable to assuage his concern.
Da'vid was OBVIOUSLY not dad-in-law's favorite man....criticizing his rowing, snapping at him when he paused to wave at the people riding the Heber Creeper that choo choo'ed by on the track above the river. Then shortly thereafter losing hold of the paddle, and - I am sure-fearing the bite of father in-law's impending criticism, dived off the raft into the 3 feet of rushing water to retrieve the lost paddle, only to fall victim to the current....and our raft, unable to stop and wait or ground itself while he was swimming, was in turn rescued by two canoe dudes, and the "lost" paddle was retrieve and returned to us by an able bodies tubist.
I then started paddling, I didn't mind, and found that I knew how to steer THAT much better than my talent for NOT steering the tube.
After a cold, miserable looking Da'vid caught up to us sitting in the middle of the canoe, the mom suggested that he may want to try doing that with the two canoe "relatives" that had saved him. I could see in his eyes that he would love to do ANYTHING more than be in any close vicinity to the father in law...so he stayed on the canoe.
We came up on the bridge, swiftly steering the raft over to the poor excuse of a "dock"...again slick muddy dirt, at a severe angle to the river, that after chucking (with much chagrin) the now shredded shoes into the river (now I wish I had saved them for a souvenir); I was barefoot with tender feet....I managed to tip toe around big gravel stones and thanked the Lord for weeds that are not all "stickery" - and as the last one in...Managed to slip and get the bum of my jean shorts all muddy (shorts that I bought @ the consignment store the week before for $1!)...so sat on dirt the whole rest of the way. Hitchhiking for the first time in my life - on a river nonetheless!
We swiftly made it down to dock; HOME....now I just had to find my friends....they would have surely made it back before ME! I scanned the crowd of people; only to see no familiar ones. Then I was acutely aware that my feet HURT, and all around there was gravel...not small stuff, but big sharp rocky gravel! I hip hopped my way to give back my life jacket---that had surely saved me...and made it to the trailer disguised as an office for the booming business of river "adventures". I asked if anyone was looking for a person lost in their party; then with a "You'll have to ask a guide" ...I hobbled down the wooden steps to more gravel...seemed like acres!
At this point I need to interject that Annie and I had parked my car over the other side of the train tracks and river at Vivian Park; but had left our bags of "stuff" in my other friends vehicle parked down by the trailer. With that said, I had no shoes or dry clothes to change into...or car keys, or driver's license...or CELL PHONE! Okay, just something to ponder...how many telephone numbers do you know...I mean, really remember....by heart, to call if you are without your all important CELL PHONE?!?!?!?
Also, I plan on going through all of my "extra" unused shoes and sending them to Africa or donating them to a local charity; as I have been PAINFULLY reminded that shoes are VERY ESSENTIAL to your well being!
Okay, back to the 3 hour saga....wasn't there a television show about a 3 hour tour!?!?!? Ahhhhh no Gilligan's Island....nobody but, me, myself, and I ...and a bunch strangers. Tom Hanks in that movie 'Cast Away' but I had no "Wilson" just an empty water bottle, a tiny tube of sunscreen....along with my swimming suit and some dirt encrusted jean shorts. I decided that I would go over to the park...there was grass and people there, plus my beater of a car was parked there...for SURE my friends would find me!
Ummmm, not so much....I bummed water and lemonade off of families that were having picnics, asked one family if anyone had a cell phone that had service up the canyon. Found one kind young man that had a Blackberry that he offered up for use. After some coaching from him and some deep prodding of my brain, I remembered a few phone numbers. My sister Julie, of course, and my friend Lisa. After realizing that they were probably NOT answering because of an unknown number listed on the caller id (damn technology!); the Samaritan asked if my contacts texted...WHAT A CONCEPT.....I take back what I said about technology! I figured that sis would probably NOT get one, as she has a practice of "not being a slave to her phone" - but, I did text my sweet friend Lisa...and she texted me back...then called. By then, I had moved away from the picnic pavilion at the park, and the kind sir walked over to find me. I spoke with Lisa, and she had Valene's cell number (the designated tubing party leader)...who I then left a message on her number, thinking that she would have it on her person? Obviously not, I had managed to call and catch Julie at home - and she was "to the rescue"...as per usual....packing my dog, and shoes. Meanwhile, across the river...unbeknownst to me, there was a search party in progress. My friends had finally arrived at the destination, and apparently I had beaten them? Who wouldda guessed it? I thought...incorrectly, that they would come to the park since my car was there...their thought was that they had all of my stuff in a bag along with my car keys; so WHY WOULD I GO TO MY CAR?
When Julie showed up...bearing flip flops purchased on the way from SLC to Provo canyon at Family Dollar, as she had stopped at because in her haste to leave, she forgot shoes.(Why oh WHY did I not ask one of the kind picnickers to just drive me back over to the High Country dock, instead of calling my sister is a mystery to me....maybe I swallowed too much water...or maybe a small fish...and the trauma was addling my brain, I dunno...)
Julie drove me back over the rough rocks- back to the "docking area" where, low and behold, there was a very concerned Valene, her brother, and Annie...standing with some tour guides ALMOST gonna call the search and rescue team, as the guides had traveled up and down the stretch of river looking for little ol me....also, they had driven up and down the road looking for me, as maybe I had floated down the river to the other tubing place. Never ONCE did they think to drive the - maybe 300 feet over to the grassy park to see a barefoot...pink and orange print swimming suit with dirty shorts Susie...waving an empty water bottle!
Oh well....so my life is akin to an Erma Bombeck story...never a dull moment! What an adventure! All in all, it had a happy ending, other than the parts where I almost DIED!
As Annie and I laughed and giggled on the way home, it was nice to hear her experience was very close too mine, scratches and bumps on her shins, and bruises yet to make themselves known.
In the end, I WAS HAPPY to do what I did....I stepped outta the box....into ---well, CHINA....but, at least I made it out alive...with a tall tale to tell! Makes me appreciate all that I have!
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