Memorial

It's Memorial Day weekend. Tomorrow is "the" day. The holiday. For me this means my eldest son and his beautiful family will be coming here for family time, duck feeding, much laughing, and eating until we can't eat any more.

But there have been memories this Memorial Day weekend as well.

I made Mom's banana bread. Twice. I burned it the first time. For a few moments, my house smelled like our home used to smell when Mom baked that wonderful stuff. She gave loaves of banana bread out like some people give out hugs. She wrapped them in foil. Not plastic wrap; foil. I learned that it was good with cream cheese on it. I froze it, but Mom didn't like that at all. It needed to be eaten fresh. You just make more - you don't FREEZE it.

I made some sour cream cookies. They are weird, at best. Laura says they taste like bread.

I made Rice Krispie Treats. Those, my friend, are quite yum.

The steaks are quietly marinading in Yoshida's. The chicken thighs are also quietly marinading, in some sort of teriyaki and sesame something. The barbeque grill is cleaned and has new little fake bri..brique... you know. Those square things that pretend they hold fire. David and I worked together on this rite of summer arriving. I swept the deck, got out the lawn chairs, and breathed in the sweet smell of our backyard.

I love it here.

I absolutely love it here. Yesterday I took my husband into my arms and asked him if I had thanked him that day for buying me this house in this place in this wonderful green and fragrant world. He said no, of course, so I thanked him. I thank God daily for this place. I sit and look out my windows and I am amazed that I get to live here.

It's like a dream.

Today's sermon was really uncomfortable.

The topic was resolving conflict and I squirmed a lot.

I know I need to act, now that I have heard these words of wisdom.

The thing David and I most appreciate about Pastor Steve is that he is admittedly human, and he is totally transparent. He delivers the Word with conviction, but without false perfection.

So I listened today and some of the time I wondered who told him exactly what I needed to hear.

Confrontation.

Conflict resolution.

Bury your head in the sand, and pretend it never happened. It's easier.

I hate being lied to. I hate stepping around as if over egg shells. But most of all I hate my own inability to confront. "You are lying to me. I know this as well as I know my own name." I can't imagine saying this, but it needs to be said. And Pastor Steve's message today left no doubt.

He nailed it.

And I am uncomfortable, like I'm sitting on a tack, or stepping on a rock.

Loving someone is not the same thing as allowing them to sin blatantly and pretend not to notice.

But I am weak.

Today I think of the sacrifice our soldiers have made for us, and for our country. I appreciate them, and I appreciate the sacrifice. One of them in particular has a special place in my heart.

I owe him honesty.

Pastor Steve says that allowing this to go un-confronted is allowing the loved one to slip into eternity without hope.

And that's not love.

Again; I am weak.

I wish to close my eyes and have this go away. And I know it won't.

Memorial Day.

Honor the soldier, but remember that Heaven is reserved for those saved by grace. Not even selfless service on foreign soil counts in God's book.

The little bird

Left the nest.

She has her own nest now, and Daddy and I helped her with it today. We shopped at WalMart, brought to her new home a truck full of treasures, and then we put them together. David worked on the little dining table she got with 4 chairs for $100! Laura and I put together her bed frame (she had been sleeping on the mattress and box springs on the floor), and the shelf thingy for over the toilet. Then we helped with the dining chairs. It actually all looks really nice. She looked all grown up and self-sufficient in her little apartment as we left. I got her some silverware, some towels, and some other nest-lining stuff. I do that with all the kids, one by one, as they leave, but she's the last.

She turned down an offer of dinner tonight. Says there is a lot of food there. She wouldn't be lonely because Stephanie would be home soon. Hmm.

Little bird.

Long weekend, long Blog

Sunday morning Greg and Laura and I headed out to LaCenter for Troy's birthday. It was a very stressful morning for me, because I was dreading a day that would feel like two days. We estimated that we would arrive in Paradise (the city) at about 2am. That was NOT good, but it didn't look like there was any way around it.

The party was fine, and fun as usual, and then we got on the road. It was just about a 10 hour drive, with 5 of us in the little car.

Oh wow Elliott is going home tonight.

On the way there was music. MUSIC. We discussed what songs Justin and Greg would play, and decided Laura would sing with the boys. They settled on three songs. Sadie actually wrote the chords as we drove, transposing the selected songs. We also listened to the song Justin, Sadie and I would sing. I had said no, I "couldn't" do it, but I came to the conclusion that I actually could and SHOULD do it. Grandpa Boris would have LOVED every minute of the music. It was in his honor we were playing, and it was the Gospel by which he lived every single minute of his life which was contained in the songs. The song that ended up being more special than we anticipated was 'Better is One Day'. "Better is one day in Your house, Better is one day in Your courts, Better is one day in your house than thousands elsewhere..."

But I'm ahead of me.

So we arrived at about 2am as expected, and poor Olga was still awake. But we settled in quickly. It was very hard to get to sleep, knowing we were getting up in about 4 hours.

Get up we did, and somehow 7 people got ready in very little time, on such a stressful and sad morning. Olga made coffee.

The kids and I practiced music at the church about an hour before the service, and watching my children sing together broke me - oh goodness. I used half a dozen tissues and realized I was in deep trouble. I was, and AM so proud of them. I knew that if Grandpa Boris was there he would have been bursting his buttons and probably would have had a few tears himself. But I don't really think he was watching. I really think he was trying out legs that weren't weak, lungs that worked well, and a body that was not in pain. He was probably doing music of his own with the angels.

The cemetery is across the street from the church where the memorial was held. We had the burial first, and that was exceptionally sad and brought many tears. It's so painful to see grown up children weep. But we sang, with cracking voices and teary eyes, 'It is Well With My Soul'. Yeah, my heart is aching. But, it is well with my soul. This was true of all of those standing around that grave.

The memorial service was SO encouraging and uplifting and worshipful. It was true, and it was spoken often, that Boris lived his life for God, and with the purpose in mind to spread the truth of Salvation. Boris trusted God with his life, his health, his daily breath. He did not curse God, or complain, but he lived out the life given to him in hope and praise. What an example.

When Laura, Greg and Justin did their worship music set, the congregation got to their feet and the presence of God very literally filled that room from the top to the bottom. It was a rare moment when you could FEEL the very Spirit of God filling the room and you could breathe in and be immersed in that holy presence. It was unlike anything I have witnessed or experienced in many years. The kids were encouraged by the spirit of worship, and their voices were strong even through their grief. What a testimony. I kept picturing those same three, as little kids, harmonizing and singing songs of faith. Laura at age 3, Greg at 5, and Justin at 11, singing with sincerity even then.

The Shapovalov family name is being carried on by men of faith and music, who continue to hold up a light in a dark world. In spite of how tempting it is to become dark and dirty, they wear the white that was purchased for them by the blood, and they do not shade the light they carry. It's not popular. But it is truth.

We drove home on Tuesday, and with all the stops and everything that happens on a trip, we ended up here in Bothell at nearly midnight. Poor Greg had a full-fledged cold by then and was very snotty and sloopy. I slept WELL.

Then today, Miss Laura stayed home from work, exhausted, but later spent several hours moving into the apartment she has rented with Stephanie. She and Daniel walked in around 7:30 tonight and were very happy that I had made crock pot pork roast, potatoes and corn.

After dinner Laura said "See you tomorrow!" and with a hug and kiss she was off to her new home! HOW STRANGE IS THAT?????? But it's okay. It's right, even. She has had her time of being taught, trained, and shown, and now she gets to go live it. Thankfully, I have no worry about this.

Oh, yes, in the shuffle a couple of occasions were nearly lost. Mothers Day. I got three voice messages on my cell phone. Sarah May, Justin, and Sparky! Those were very happy messages for me. Then there was the little issue of our 30th anniversary!!! But we'll celebrate that later.

That was my weekend.

And I am still pretty much tired, but satisfied.

I need to do some serious laundry.

Plans

We (Laura, Greg and I) will be driving to LaCenter on Sunday for Troy's birthday party, and then we (Laura, Greg and I, and Justin and Sadie) will drive to California for the memorial service. I think that is a really good idea, and it's a good thing Laura called me to watch the American Idol results show which TICKED ME OFF by the way so that I could not purchase airline tickets so I could save money and have a better trip driving with my kids.


CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? Chris. Voted off. Chris. Perhaps American Idol will not be such a magnet any longer. Wow. Shocking.

So there you have it, America. You are wrong. Elliot? SERIOUSLY? Ok. I'll stop.

But really, now. Elliot?

Gah.

Music = Life

That picture captures the unique life-sparkle Grandpa Boris had in his eyes. This was never more true than when he got to hear good music. He loved music. If you put on the sound track to Dr. Zhivago he would hum and sway and close his eyes. In this picture he's listening to a Martin Family performance on steel drums. He's pretending to direct, of course. One time, when they were visiting, I put on a CD of old hymns played by an orchestra. He absolutely fell into a music-heaven-overload. So that's why I can just imagine he is totally overwhelmed by what REAL music is like, over there.

Direct on! We'll see you soon.

I stole this. Sue me.

So, can you really be sad if you see this? I think not. Not forever, anyway.

God must have known this.

Well done, good and faithful servant

So he struggled for a while to keep breathing earthly air, when all the time angels were standing by to take him to that place where only the pure and holy live. At about 7:30 this evening, he gave in to the irresistible urge to join those living forever in that place that needs no sun. It was peaceful, and there was no struggle. Now that part is done.

We can only imagine.

There will be a service to plan and planes to catch, clothing to pick out and papers to sign. Death costs money and creates so much paperwork. But he'll miss out on that part, and he gets to sing tonight.

'Death holds no terror for the blood bought soul, oh glory hallelujah to the Lamb.' He'll sing that. He knows that first-hand now, and I'm sure he would like to send a message down. No crying, you. No sorrow. This is what we were created for. Now he has 'Ten thousand years' and listen - listen to the singing.

I said that he'd probably look my dad up when he got there, and I really wonder if that's so. I can see them talking about the kids.

But God Himself made this reservation, and this purchased one walked in with his invitation in his hand. And he heard the words. "Well done, good and faithful servant."

And he entered into rest.

Goodbye Pops.

Re-run

Last night's dinner was pretty doggone good. So tonight we had a re-run. Stephanie was invited, and brought Tyler and Tong. Mai. Mai? Mai Tong. I think. He is in the army, and said "Ma'am" a lot. He also enjoyed the food, but tried not to eat as fast as in Basic. It brought back memories. When I said they "had" to finish the tortellini, he responded in due military fashion. Faithful to the call. For seconds. Daniel was here, or it wouldn't have been right. So it was me and a house full of kids, and that was good and right and fun. And Stephanie did the dishes, and Laura put away leftovers. They watched nerd TV. Tyler tells stories amazingly. They think I should have a 'MySpace' but I'm not convinced.

I am a lurker, I think that's what Laura calls me. A MySpace lurker. I lurk. What a great word. I read the comments, blogs, and click on the links. I can tell a LOT about a kid by those things. I see and hear the music videos. I see content that would shock most parents. I get proud, and sad, and majorly disappointed when I "lurk". Now I know there is a counter-culture of parents who have MySpaces. Stephanie says I should have one, and add her mom as a friend. Well I just might. But not without Laura and Daniel and Stephanie's helps. What an oddity. A mom myspace. Weird. But it would be hilarious to connect with other weird moms on that forum...

As I said, sometimes I am majorly disappointed when I read some MySpace blogs and comments. I find a lot of drinking and bragging about it, cursing, sex talk, discussions about who beat up whom and who went home bloody... it's a sad, sad thing. I see so many kids and young adults on that forum who are proud of their slutty, drunken, angry, totally morally bankrupt lifestyles. Some of them even claim to be "Christian/other". Funny. What a catch-all term. Christian/other. "I'm a Christian/other. That means I do what I want and believe that when I die I will go to a better place. Now pass me another beer. My girlfriend is coming over later and we're gonna..." Christian/other.

Oops. That's called a rant, I believe. And I'm really tired. There are the exceptions, as well. I also read comments from one young adult to another encouraging Bible reading, prayer, and fellowship. I see amazing stories of pure and faithful young people in this dirty, dirty world. I see a lot that brings a smile, and sometimes I'm brought to tears by the stubborn Christian, not "other" in these kids.

I have to go to the store early tomorrow. David is in California, and Justin is as well, but will be flying back to Portland tomorrow. I have the job of overseeing the operation of the store. So far, so good. We have an impossible task there this week, and it will be fun beating the odds and accomplishing it. Kirby becomes our real employee as of - well, today, I guess. I hope he's okay with all that. Stamped with the governmental seal of approval. Ta da. You are hereby considered part of the family. Congrats. Now deal with 12 apartments' worth of appliances all at one time, on top of my new purchase of 8 upper-end beauties!!!!!!

It is way more fun being the boss than I ever imagined it would be. I love schmoozing the customers and keeping my staff happy. Today I enjoyed talking with an apartement owner about our future working together. I have heard no less than three customers this week say this is where they are going to shop exclusively from now on. Didn't hurt my feelings.

Wednesday the new Bosch babies arrive. I will lovingly inspect each one.

Who knew appliances could be so much fun?????

And now, to bed. Watch for a new MySpace to hit cyber space soon. I will be able to look at all the photos, and post comments, and everything. Mom is watching! Ha ha ha. What's really funny is, all these kids who hang around actually ENCOURAGE it, rather than try to hide. I have a feeling that this bunch isn't among the morally bankrupt...

I'm blessed beyond blessed.

Have yourself a wonderful night or day.

Sad day and happy day

We got the call this morning that Grandpa Boris, David's dad, had been taken to the hospital for what will be the final time, if the doctors are right. By the sounds of things, they are. Of course our day's plans went out the window. David started to pack, and we searched for a flight as soon as possible.

He came out and asked me, as I was emailing the family, how best to pack his sport coat. That struck me deeply, so sad. He was being so brave. So I told him to roll it, which creates the least wrinkles.

At the airport, as he was in line for security, we continued to talk as if nobody else was there. He said "I wish you were going." Five little words that nobody in the world can understand could mean so much to me. He wishes I was going. So do I, but I will run our business instead, for him, and take care of details.

Losing a parent is never easy.

Soon we both will be able to say we've lost both mother and father. But he's still left with the wife his father will leave behind. So there's that. And my kids will still have "Nanny".

It's raining.

Daniel just left. He and Laura took a ton of pictures with her new camera. She took one of her and me while I was making dinner for them. I'll post it. They hung out with me and watched a movie - and I appreciate this a lot. The house is very quiet, and I should be in bed. I'm sad. Dinner and the movie with the kids was happy, and I look at them and know they are the future and all of us are walking off stage to make room for the new players. There is not hopeless despair, but there certainly is grief.

God has perfect timing, and we have limited understanding. One day we'll see quite clearly, and that is a promise.

My Anthony says that between him and me we can run the store just fine. I appreciate him very much.

Sherri is right there with a shoulder and an ear and she'd hand me a tissue if she were closer. I appreciate her very much.

Brian called to make sure I was okay. He's my buddy, and I appreciate HIM very much.

I'm blessed with a huge safety net of people to keep me from falling.

That's the part that makes this a happy day.

Jars of Clay sing a song which is one of my favorites. It's the one I wanted Endeavor to sing if I didn't wake up from surgery in June last year.
"I will sing of Your mercy that leads me from valleys of sorrow to rivers of joy."

Yeah.

Goodnight, patient reader. Goodnight, Robb. :-)

Secretary's Day

It came and went but he didn't know about it. However I jokingly told him that it had come and gone. Tonight he arrived home after going to Costco and doing some errands, and I was given FLOWERS. Flowers for being an awesome secretary. I got flowers. Was told I was awesome. All in the same day.

Makes me want to work even harder tomorrow.