My Thoughts On Reading My Diaries Many Years Later

I recently went back in time and mentally relived a part of my past, beginning at the young age of 16.  I kept a diary back then.  It was my first diary, one of 8 to follow.  I continued to write in a new diary during different stages of my life from that point on.  Even then, I realized that this was something special, a way for me to preserve memories to reflect upon one day when I am much older, and to be able to someday share it with my kids and grandkids.  Upon reading these there were some entries that I would not want anyone to read.  In fact, I scribbled out a few things!  Just a few.  And some pages have been torn out previously.  I had these diaries in my hope chest and one by one I read every single page.  With each diary I saw how things changed, how I changed, the way I expressed myself as I grew from a teenager, to a wife, and to a mother.  I once again felt those feelings of happiness, fear, sadness, and excitement. There were deaths, births, illnesses, friends coming and going in my life, my kids growing up so fast (and those wonderful teenage years), and house building.  I even wrote down prices of things like food, gas, clothing, appliances, electronics, movies, etc.  Which by the way, some appliances and electronics cost more then than they do now. 

There were a few things that surprised me in my journaling.  One is, I could not believe how often I ate at fast food restaurants as a teenager.  I am certain it was because it was the affordable choice, it was convenient, and it tasted good.  Not to mention the fact that I was very skinny, very young, and without the slightest concern about my arteries and cholesterol, just so long as I wasn’t getting fat.  As the years went on my diet changed for the better.  Today I rarely eat fast food, and I try to eat the foods that are good for me.  I’m sure that is due in part to the fact that I am well aware of age creeping in, and I’m trying to do things that will ensure a longer life. 

My movie choices as a teenager had much to be desired, but I’m sure that’s what you get when you go to a drive-in theatre, if you know what I mean.  Another thing I hadn’t really realized, until reading my diaries, is just how much time I spent with my mom after I married at the age of 18.  (Which, by the way, being married at 18 explains why we are no longer married, even though we did love each other.  We grew up and grew apart, and after 3 wonderful children and 25 years together, we went our separate ways.)  I often went over to mom’s house, and we would go shopping, or out to lunch.  My sisters would either still be living there or would come over to mom’s house too, and we would all hang out and talk or do things together.  For years I would see my mom at least 3 times a week, and talk to her on the phone even more.  My sisters and I and our mom were really close and did so much together.  We celebrated everyone’s birthdays and every holiday together.  Mom and dad were divorced, and dad had his place in our lives, too.  He wasn’t around as much, but we loved him just the same.  Mom was always buying my kids toys, clothes and gifts.  She would take them shopping at the dollar store and she would have them over for sleepovers.  My sisters and I would take turns having each others kids overnight.  At one point we had our own little club and we would meet at each other’s houses on Thursdays and have a meal together and talk about anything and everything women talk about.  Mom and I even took college classes together, and I have some fond memories of that time, like the time we could not stop laughing in class because the teacher said something, not meant to be funny, but we thought it was hilarious.  We were both going to be nurses, and we both changed our minds.  But we had fun in that year we were together in school.  I went on through, to the second year without her, and graduated with an Associate’s Degree in Liberal Arts.  Mom was right there cheering me on. During this period in my life I was married with 3 small children and also babysitting a couple of kids on a full-time basis.  It was tough trying to find time to study, let alone raise a family and maintain a household.

My diary from the time I was living in Germany with my dad, and attending Frankfurt American High School, jarred my memory on a few things that I had forgotten about.  Like, the time it took our bus 2 1/2 hours to get to school because of the snow, and the time a bunch of my friends were at a sleepover at Ruth's house and I woke up to find my bra in the freezer, and one day a month after our arrival in Germany my sister and I mailed out 31 letters back to the states.  Little did I know at the age of 16 that my long lost friends from school would become my friends on Facebook many years later!  Obviously, times have changed since the 70's. And whoever would have thought I'd be blogging my stories on a computer.

Another thing that I realized from my entries was how my memories of my kids always being these angelic-like beings, who never fought with each other and never got on my nerves, was wrong.  They did fight with each other and they did get on my nerves.  It’s so funny how those memories fade over time and how you remember all the good stuff more.  One day when my two oldest were 3 and 1 1/2, they kept fighting over their toys and crying at the same time.  I threw my hands up in despair and said, “I don’t want anymore kids!”  And my 3 year old daughter said in a ha-ha tone to her voice, “I don’t want no more mommies either!”  And then she added, “And no more daddies, too!”  It made me realize something there.  Maybe I was getting on her nerves, too.  Of course, I was blessed to have another child a year and a half later. 

One of my diaries was all about the home building process of our log home two decades ago.  What a job that was, building a house with our own hands, and working full time, raising 3 kids who were all involved in sports, dance, and music, and trying to have a life outside of building a house. 

Having diaries is just a small part of the many things I have done over the years to preserve memories. I have also saved things.  I guess I learned this from my mom.  She saved elementary school papers and drawings I did, post cards from camp, and letters from Dad in Vietnam.  I continued the tradition and started my own collection and saved a lot of things of sentimental value to me.  For my kids, I saved everything from baby clothes to baby teeth, favorite t-shirts from camp, vacations, or school sports, toys, books, hair clippings from first haircuts, lists of their vocabulary at certain ages, growth charts, school papers and art projects, newspaper clippings from their sports (all put in scrapbooks), notes, and so on.  I didn’t save everything, of course.  At the end of each semester in school I would go through their school work and save my favorites, or their favorites, like stories they wrote, etc.  And I would put them in a separate folder and label it.  They each have a folder for every grade, even some college.  I saved their favorite toys and the blankets my mom made them.  So now, each of my three kids has about 16 plastic totes, with their childhood memories tucked safely inside.  I know they appreciate that I did this for them.  But I didn’t do it just for them.  I did it for their children, and for their grandchildren, and I did it for me.  It made me feel good.  I can’t explain it, but I guess it makes me feel like I kept their childhood alive.

I realize now and have always known that my kids are my greatest blessings in life. I know that I am not perfect.  I have made mistakes in my life, I didn’t always do things exactly right, I have wanted to go back and change some things, and I have missed out on opportunities that were presented to me.  Aside from that, I am who I am because of the woman my mom and dad raised me to be, and because of the family values that were instilled in me, and because of my life’s circumstances that lead me down the path I’ve taken.  I may not be someone who has accomplished great things, but I do believe I am a good mom.  Reading my diaries gave me a glimpse of my past and reminded me of all the things I did do right.     

 

What the Heck is a Haboob?

I sure never heard of a Haboob...until last night when I was sitting in my living room watching TV.  Suddenly a special alert came on the tube showing a large sandstorm had just entered the Gilbert/Chandler area.  I thought, oh no, we are right in it's path, and there's no way we are going to miss this.   It was HUGE!  It looked like a giant exploding vacuum sweeper bag!   Sure enough, within minutes it was here.  My daughter called and said, "Welcome to Phoenix!"  I'm used to thunderstorms, snowstorms and blizzards, from living in Iowa, not sandstorms.  I learned later that this was an exceptionally large sandstorm, called a Haboob, one that many valley residents have never seen the likes of.  It's more of a middle east type of storm.  This one was over a mile high and 100 miles long! It lasted about an hour, with sustained winds of 50 to 70 miles an hour, with a sprinkling of rain afterwards...just enough to put sand and mud spots on everything!  We are in monsoon season now and typically it means there can be rain and blowing dust.  Sometimes a lot of rain at once.  This is a Haboob... 

 My daughter took this picture from her second floor bedroom as the Haboob made it's way into her neighborhood.  It crawled over the mountain, which you can't even see here. I live only 7 blocks away, so I got hit virtually at the same time.  I wish I would have looked out the window to see it coming, but I certainly heard it once it arrived.  Boy, did I ever!  It sounded like a blizzard with sleet and ice coming down.

In this picture you can see the bottom of South Mountain.  I saw my neighbor driving in to their garage during the middle of the storm.  Unfortunately, they got caught in it.  So many cars today were covered in sand and dirt and the news reported that the car washes were crowded all day.  People's pools were full of sand, too.  However, my neighbor's pool looked pretty clean, considering.

This is what my windows looked like this morning.  And people who know me, know that I can't stand dirty windows!  The first thing I did when I got up was go outside and start cleaning up.  I even skipped my morning coffee!  It actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be out there.  I hosed down everything, washed the windows, and raked the seeds that finally fell from my cypress tree, thanks to the wind.  Everything was back in order 4 hours later.  Oh, and my cypress tree is actually standing up straighter than it was before. hehe

 

 My daughter and her husband kept laughing at the pronunciation of Haboob, so.... I had to laugh when I saw this photo in my daughter's facebook album after she posted pictures of the Haboob.  I commented that this is 'a little boobie'.  Shame on me.  Oh well, she thought the comment was funny, and we needed some humor after the experience we just had.

While I was outside working today I saw that the house that is being built behind me is going to be a two story, not a single story like I was hoping.  Now, not only is my mountain view gone, but so is my privacy.  I've got to figure out what to do about this.  I need some fast growing, super tall trees and bushes.  Or a cheaper way to go would be to annoy them somehow so THEY are forced to spend the money on some privacy plants.  I'm such a clean, quiet person who isn't home much, so how can I annoy them?  I was here first!

For the Love of Art

                               I drew a picture of my mom yesterday.

I took art in high school and haven't painted a picture since then...until this one.