If you don't believe in ghosts, you've never been to a family reunion. ~Ashleigh Brilliant

I come from a very close knit family. My parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and sister were always within a short drive. Many holidays were spent with large groups of extended family from summer picnics to Christmas Eve dinners. I have passed this on to my own children and attempt to keep the family tight for them

However, after losing my maternal grandmother while in her forties, very near the age I am now. And also the loss of my paternal Grandfather who committed suicide in his fifties and before I entered this world, leaves empty emotions and questions about those relatives I barely knew.

As I get older and my children are turning into adults themselves, I've become more curious about the past I know little about. I am the youngest child of two and don't remember a lot of the things my sister is old enough to remember. Both of my parents have wonderful memories in grand detail.

It is rare that we are out with my mother, sometimes in cities far from home when my mother doesn't see someone she knows. Is it because she knows a lot of people? Perhaps, she is a very sweet socialite. Or is it that she just remembers better? When our memories do not grasp the past as well as we would like, do we walk right past those we know from our past not realizing? I believe there is some truth to that. My mother seems to be in tune with those from her past.

I find myself asking my parents a lot more about the past. I find myself more curious about where I came from. I lost my paternal grandmother when I was still young. Pregnant with my second child at her funeral I was just 20. Busy with my life as a new bride, husband overseas serving in Desert Storm. I had plenty going on and way too young to care or take the time to ask about my grandmothers youth. And now I wish I had.

My grandparents and my parents are luckily slight hoarders. They don't like to throw away memories. And I love them for it. Between my mothers mothers hope chest full of memories, my dads moms hope chest and so many other boxes filled with pictures and letters encapsulating the past. I have much to learn.

A few years ago my parents moved from the house of my youth. We cleared, packed, sorted, and moved 20+ years worth of stuff. In the back recesses of their basement were boxes from my grandmothers house. Old memories perhaps too packed with emotion to be sorted at the time of her death.

In one of the boxes, hidden buried in some old dance cards, photographs and report cards were two small leather bound treasures. One a tiny ring binder no larger than a wallet, my grandfathers journal. The other a small leather diary complete with locking clasp. My grandmothers journal.

I have read them once before, just after my parents move. Each ends with a proposal and a marriage. The coming together of my own paternal grandparents. A glimpse into their dating and falling in love.

On our last trip south to drop off my youngest at school, I picked up the journals once again from my dad. I am reading them again. I am recording them into digital format so that I may share with other family more easily. I also found some old letters. A small glimpse into my own fathers youth.

I am more and more curious. I hope to get a lot of information in the near future. While it is still available.
I live in a Genealogically rich state. There is access to research already completed for me. But there is more to family than dates of birth or death. There is more to my heritage than who we came from but who those people WERE that we came from.
I hope I can answer some questions and discover more about those who came before me.
I am excited to live a little in the past, learn from it and pass it on to my own children.

Keep your face always toward the sunshine - and shadows will fall behind you. " Walt Whitman

The day has come.
I dropped my youngest off at her first apartment yesterday.
Bittersweet.

She is surprising me in so many ways. So responsible.

If you had asked me about her perhaps a year ago, I would have said she would never make it.

She will begin her first semester next week.

She is a bit nervous but ready. She has gone through a gamut of emotion this week. Crying emotionally, before we left home, saying she was not ready to leave home. Excitement at walking the campus, purchasing books, decorating her new temporary home.

I am not sure it has hit me yet, how empty this house will be. There is one left. My middle child. She is rarely home herself.

The house seems so much bigger.

Moving her felt as though we were moving a circus. packed until the poor truck could hold no more. And yet, most of her room is still as she left it. Most of her furnishings are here ready to see her at holiday breaks. The difference being no clothes on the floor. The room is the cleanest it has been since she took over the room when her brother moved to the basement.

I will miss waiting up for her at nights. I will miss her sleepy face with tousled hair waking on the weekends looking for coffee. I will miss snuggling with her on winter Sundays while watching movies.

And yet, I cannot wait for her to experience this new phase in her life. I cannot wait for our Sunday morning scheduled calls to catch up. Or other unscheduled calls when she needs just a little bit of help from home.

We (my father and I) tried to make her stay as comfortable as we could. Take away the stresses that would hold her back from having the most rewarding and fun experience thus far.

It is not easy on her. It is not easy on her mamma either. But it is also so exciting.

I love her and I am proud!

We are not alone

The past year has been a trial for me. As I have beaten a dead horse about.....

Over the past 14 yrs I have struggled as a single mother. Money was tight and the kids went without a lot of the extras. But nothing has been quite as hard as this past year.
Unemployment does not stretch near as far as one might think. But I am blessed to qualify for the benefits. For now.
It will not last forever, and I wouldn't expect that it would. But without it, I and my girls, would be on the street.
In my years as a single mother, I prided myself on never taking a hand out. Never did I seek out government support or charitable gifts.
There were always families worse off than we were. As long as there was a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, heat to warm out bodies and food to fill our bellies, we were rich.
But as this year continues on, those are seemingly becoming more and more luxuries.
Eight years I have spent in night school. Long nights studying after the kids were in bed. Working towards a higher degree of education and a dream of one day giving my kids more than they have ever dreamed.
And now, those dreams are just that. Dreams of using that hard earned degree- not for extras, luxuries and fun and travel.... Just a hope that it will some day land me a job just to catch up once again. A dream that I will not lose the house I have been able to hold onto solo for so long.

But I am not alone.

On the heels of the latest US unemployment rates exceeding 9%, and my own home state not far below that. I recently read an article in Reuters. For America's "99ers," jobs crisis is hard to escape

"Mary Kay Coyne has just filed what she says is her 1,862nd job application since being thrown out of work three years ago."


I am not far behind Mary Kay. I believe that I have also posted approximately one thousand resumes and applications for jobs which are often outside of my usual expertise and often at a much lower pay grade. Just to once again get bread on the table. 


I am not alone. 


But, sufficed to say, I have high hopes. Things have to turn around soon. Right?

Time is moving so quickly.

So.... here it is. My baby (Rachel) is now officially an adult preparing to go out into this big bad world on her own.
Last week she took her commencement walk. The weather could not have been more perfect.

We have been so busy preparing for her first semester of college. This is a first for all of us. I am a college graduate but I returned to school a few years out of high school. I also attended a school just a few miles from my childhood home.

It is a whole different scenario when the school is 300 miles from home.
We are juggling housing, class schedules, finances and all of this from a distance is frustrating.
She has also been working hard. So much money to save up before August.

In the midst of all of this planning... she will be tagging along on with her best friends' family on a trip to Virgina and the nations capital. A trip of a lifetime.
Although they have offered to pay her way on most everything, she will be paying her airfare.
All of this brings on a little bit of stress. For her. For me.
This too shall pass I understand.
I just wish I could get a gull durn job and help my daughter out a little.

On a lighter note: I am such a proud mother.
The month Rachel was born, I became a mother of three. I was twenty three years old and in the last month of the last semester of my first two years of college. Finals week was just nine days away. I had her, I took care of her in her first week of life while studying for finals with a three year old and a near two year old in tow. I then took her with me the next week to most all of my finals. She was bound to be a college grad!

Her father and I used to think about the future. All of our kids would be out of the house when we were still in our forties and it would then be our time to play.
Here I am. All three kids graduated. The second (the baby) ready to leave home. And I am not near as excited as I thought I would be.
I am of course excited for her. But I am also a bit sad. And proud. So many emotions.
Onward to the next chapter.. for us all.

It is not over

I imagine there will be all sorts of blog posts in the blog-o-sphere about 9/11/2001 today. Many who were involved in the attacks either as victims, loved ones of victims or personnel who aided those victims.
I live very far from the terrorists targets (thus far) and cannot even fathom the pain, the sheer terror or the devastation of that day 9 years ago.
Nine years, that sounds a lifetime ago and yet it seems like yesterday.

But I still remember where I was and how it made me feel.

At the time my mother and I worked for the same company but in two different departments. We were just pulling into work in her car and heard the announcement that a plane had just run into one tower of the trade center.

I have not traveled to New York and to be honest, I had no idea what the World Trade Center was. It was scary. My first thought, as many others possibly concluded, was that a pilot had fallen asleep or faulty equipment on the plane and how scared those on board might be. We had yet to see any images.

We went into the building and there were radios playing all over. The somber looks of co-workers gave an eerie feeling. A television was wheeled into the department just in time to see the second plane hit. We were miles away from the terror and yet scared just the same.

The rest of the terror unfolded as the day went on and eventually it was playing over the loud speaker for all of the company to hear.

I wondered where my children were, if they were aware of the devastation. Was it all explained as I would have. And how would I. Were they scared? Were they confused? I was.

When we left the building to grab some lunch that day, it was a strange feeling. The skies were dead. No planes flying over. The whole world seemed different.

I thank god that I was not closer to the horror of that day. But it affected us all. It was a direct hit in the gut of our country. It put a tear in our veil of safety and freedom here on US soil.

And although my son had not yet thought of joining the armed forces, it brought the perilous fight a little closer to our own shores once again.

September 11th 2001 was terrifying, no matter where you live. It should never be forgotten.
And this fight is far from over.

Hugs to you all. Hold your loved ones a little longer today. And no matter where you were, don't lose sight of the feelings you felt on that day. And hope we never have to feel them again.

-Remembering where I was 9 years ago today, when I heard. So glad my mother was there with me. It felt as though world war 3 had begun. Just a small small taste of the fear of the targets of the terror. It's also a glimpse of the everyday lives of those fighting terror in the face today. Remember that day, feeling in your gut and remember it is far from over.
Hug and tell your loved ones you love them. I love you all.- My facebook post today

Welcome home son.

My son is on an airplane right now. He is headed home. It comes as such a relief to me.

He left last year, just before his twentieth birthday across the world to the hot deserts of Iraq.

This month he will turn 21. A true Adult. And he will be on US soil.

I wont get to see him, and hold him, and thank him and congratulate him as he will be still three states away.

But he will be safe. He will once again be under the safety of Uncle Sam's embrace. That safety that he has been fighting for.

If you see a soldier today. Thank him.

If his name badge says Green hug him.

“They will be given challenges based on phenomena such as hurricanes, fog, tornados and tsunamis. So you see this year it's pretty relevant.” -Julie Berry

I updated my profile header with a snowy mountain picture that I took on one of our hikes late last spring. That is what Utah winters usually look like, Crisp clear blue skies, purple mountains covered in clean white snow. Notice the contrast to the heavy air in these photos I took recently.

It appears that my camera is out of focus, I assure you, this is what you see without the lens.

This year is an exception. Heavy clouds of dirty air held in by low atmospheric conditions, turning to ice crysals in the frigid temperatures.

And then this: Fog.
A fog so thick it can hide monstrous mountains behind its veil.

Although summer is my favorite of the four distinct seasons here in the state, I don't mind winter.


It has its own beauty. The (usually) few days we have with really low temperatures and 'bad air' are more than redeemed with those sunny winter days.



Those days you need sunglasses from the sun gleaming off the freshly fallen snow. White as marshmallow fluff. 


A golden sun cast over the dark looming and white topped mountains is a sight to behold, takes your breath away.




The weather this month seems to be a metaphor for the deep pain and non-clarity that my friend Mike must have been feeling over the holidays.


And 200 miles south of here, On a small Island that is a beautiful haven for tourists and yet only a few miles in, a poor and starving home of many terrorized by violence.

The people there are fighting a fog of their own. A deep, unsettling and scarring fog.
Made worse now with the earthquake.
Far too many paying the ultimate price. And even more it seems left to live a hell on earth, with nothing left.

I watched a clip from a news story, a woman no older than her late twenties or early thirties, she was chanting and wailing as she was held by her husband. A woman literally driven insane by the loss of not one child but all five of her loves. The heartbreak this poor woman was more than I could bear to watch. The correspondent, by his own admittance, a tough minded soul, broke down at the sight of her pain.

The fog is thick, the pain is unbearable. This will one day be a piece of history, much like that fateful day in 2001. But I don't think that this fog will ever completely leave us.

It is in times like these, we also see more humanity, more love, more charity. The people of Haiti have needed help for a long time. They have lived a nightmare long before the earth shook their island nation to rubble.

Could this be our wake up call? Should we try to do more?
For the third worlds, for the troubled friend, perhaps for the lonely elderly, the struggling single parent or young mother.
There are things we can do to help clear the fog, and each small pebble builds mountains.

Employed Once Again

I just accepted a job offer yesterday morning. It is a great job. I cant help but feel a little bit bittersweet. Being a single working mother, I have worked full time since I was 18 years old. I love to work. I'm not really a stay at home type. Sure I have enjoyed being able to sleep in if I wanted, and to run errands in town which are a bit of a hassle when working and they are only open during work hours. I have also enjoyed very much being home when my girls get home from school and able to run them to and from school on the bad weather days.

The job I have accepted will be a full time job approx 30 minutes each way from home. They mentioned that there will be some late nights and some working Saturdays.

I am really OK with working, even long hours. I love what I do. But I also love spending weekends with my kids. I am one of the lucky parents. One who's kids don't abhor hanging out with them. And each day that goes by, I realize it is a short matter of time until they are too busy with their own lives, jobs and eventually families to have as much time to hang out. these days are precious and I don't want to work them away.

Of course all of this is projection. I don't even start the job until next Monday. It is great pay, it is fun and challenging work, and it pays the bills and keeps me from going insane with boredom. There will be challenges: sharing a car, getting to daytime appointments, and others.

On the flip side, (sorry it is the Libra in me) I have always had these same struggles. But for the job I have worked for the past 3 years, I have always had to juggle appointments and getting home from a commute.

One previous job I had which was a commute, I worked at most of my adult life, was far enough away from home that I had to work out a lot of arrangements if the kids were sick or had performances or doctor appointments in the daytime. At that time, my parents were also close and helped out on occasion. They are no longer in the area.

But, regardless of all of this, I am excited to start this new job, this new chapter in my life. It seems from my interviews, that I can make a real difference in not only the design of new products but also the productivity and efficiency of the company and manufacturing itself. If that is the case, there just may be no more weekends and late nights.

I hope that all these years of work and school, doesn't make my children resentful of my lack of time but rather teaches them good work ethic and that you can truly do anything you set your mind on.

Unemployment blues

The job hunt has been a long and tedious process. I have never had to do this before. We had a meeting about unemployment insurance yesterday, another thing I have never done. I have been sending out resumes like crazy this week, I have applied for every job that even remotely matches my skills, both pre and post bachelors degree (as it is in a semi-different field than my experience).

I am optimistic, I think that this will give me a chance to use my newly gained knowledge. But, it better happen fast. I have a mortgage, a car payment, three kids, and many other obligations and very little savings to hold us over.

Friday, just two days from now will be my last date of hire. I then have 2 weeks vacation to be paid out, then a wait week with no money before I can receive any unemployment payments, however, I am hoping that it will not come to that as it would only be about 1/2 my monthly income now. That is not enough for us to live on.

This is probably a silly thing to think of when we need food on the table and shelter over our heads.. but every TV in my house is cirque 1980's they all run well, except the main TV which will periodically shut itself off then back on... like a ghost. However, in a few weeks the analog signals will be a thing of the past and without cable TV, converter boxes, or satellite, will make all of the TVs in our home nothing more than big hunks of plastic adorning our furniture. As it is now, we have basic cable, pretty stripped down, no pay movie channels, just some basic channels.

This leaves me in a bit of a predicament... If i don't find work soon, cable TV would be an obvious choice cut for downsizing to the essentials. However, not only would it make all of the TVs unusable, this will also be a time when I am out of work, - not working- nothing to do but sit at home and wait on calls from employers. Without TV.

The second obvious choice of a luxury to be cut would seem to be Internet! But how do you cut Internet when you must post at least four job postings per week?

Do I turn off the heat? the water?

What bills are the ones to cut? The cell phone? That is the number I gave to the recruiters.

Lets just hope I wont have to cut anything... and that I will find a better job, with better pay, with more vacation, stock options.....

OK OK. a job that pays for the life we have become accustomed to... lets start there.

challenges

When I started this blog, I actually intended it to be a bit of a diary of the life of a single mother. I wanted other mother's single or married, to be able to come here and see that life as a mother is not always easy. That there are good days and bad.

Lately, I have been sidetracked with the fun events of this time of year. I also have been a little leery of sharing too much as I am a Libra and hate to offend. When I think of challenges with my ex husband for instance, I catch myself worrying if he ever caught sight of this site, would he feel hurt that this is one sided? or my children, when we have struggles, will they feel bad when I share it with the world? My parents, Friends, how can I blog of experiences without spilling my guts about them?

But then, that too is one of my challenges, albeit an internal challenge.

Last night was a rough one. My youngest and most forthright of my three, is falling behind on her school work, literally not doing it! She claims to be too tired, too stressed, and even too lazy. However, when it comes time for 'fun' activities, birthdays (her own 16th is in two weeks), or time for friends, somehow energy presents itself.

I admit, I have been a little lax in recent years with the kids. In part, out of exhaustion. After working a full 8-hour day, night school 3-4 nights a week and then hours upon hours of my own homework, there was not always enough of me left to 'enforce' the rules, as much as I should have.

Not that my kids run wild, I was there, I was a parent, Just not as good as maybe I could have been, had I had a little less on my plate.

I have been extremely lucky in the fact that my kids generally have really great self-discipline, and seem to keep themselves on track pretty well with little supervision. Of course their rooms look like Hiroshima AFTER the bombs and there have been some moments when I have had to really come down on them, but for the most part, I am/have been lucky.

Last night, was one of the 'other' moments. The night started out well enough. I left work early to take them to the orthodontist, there was talk about the possibility of braces removal... however that is not to be- yet. Rachel possibly will get hers off in January-Chantel maybe February.

We stopped on the way home for a snack as I had missed lunch. Then we hurried home to get cleaned up. My youngest had work, and my older daughter had an awards ceremony for her color guard/ marching band.

The ceremonies were great, a lot of fun and I even saw an old high school classmate of mine. Her son attends the same school. That was fun.

Then we got home...laying sprawled out on the couch, was my younger daughter, (the one who is about a million assignments behind) the one who had every excuse in the book why there was not enough time for all of her responsibilities... She had been let off work early due to slow business.

The fact that she had extra time, and wasn't using it to catch up, after all the excuses I had already heard the past few weeks. It hit a nerve! I walked down the hall to drop off some things in my room, passing both her room and her sisters! Again, looking like aftermath of some forgotten war! Her sister was in her own room, a disaster also, and sending a text message to a friend...This has been an issue with my older girl... averaging 8,000-10,000 text messages a MONTH! We are on a plan that allows free unlimited text. There is a reason we are on that plan. Because I could not afford it otherwise... But how do you stop the madness that seems so prevalent? It reminds me of that old shampoo commercial from the 80's? 'So I told two friends, and she told two friends and so on , and so on'.... remember that? Well, that is what a teenage with a cell phone and 30 friends can amount to.

The state of their rooms, the lack of completed assignments, the improper prioritization in the house--- and I lost it! I am sure to my daughters I seemed like the anti-Christ! I'm sure my head was spinning in circles, my skin may have changed shades... and I WENT there..

Where? To the place where parents sometimes go- then regret. Letting loose feelings of frustration, telling them they are not acting their age, that they are no longer kids, they are young adults and should be acting like it. It became a silent anger with my older daughter, to her mothers wrath. It became a screaming match with my younger daughter. Even comparisons with friends who would have run away from home by now. My head hurt, my throat was raw, I'm sure the neighbors had already called child services...from the screaming.

I spun on my heels, walked to my room, alone, and cried. Crocodile tears, cried. This is a defense mechanism that is common (I think) with mothers. Being mothers and becoming the demons we must be sometimes to instill responsibility in our children, hurts us so much more than it hurts them.

My head hurt worse, I let out tears of so many frustrations, not just the kids, not just messy rooms. Struggles with Finances, Holiday stress, Work stress, Busy schedules. And sometimes, it has to release, in its own way.

I figured I would have a good cry, step back out, and speak a little more civilly and apologize for my outburst. But I couldn't stop, the tears flowed freely. Then, before I could gain control myself, my oldest peeked her head in, I could see the empathy on her face. How do I tell her the tears are not her doing? Then my youngest, who by this time had stomped to her room slamming the door behind her, opened up her door and came in my room. She climbed onto my bed alongside me and held me, apologizing for yelling and being obtrusive. I felt horrible. How could they think that all these tears and frustration were their doing? Sure life gives us struggles, challenges, but my children are gifts.

We talked a lot, held each other, but it was late, we were tired, I am sure hormones and estrogen were playing a bit part, and well, again this is a stressful time of year.

But I am glad to say that today is another day. It may sound strange but a good cry did me some good. We were joking and laughing again this morning. The house is filled with love. And--- I think some homework just might get done and rooms cleaned up. Only time will tell. I'll keep you posted.