Imogene

My mother was the youngest of six girls in her family. Above, from left to right, are Maxine, Mavis, Imogene, Kate (my mom), Dorothy and Ila.  Imogene was the sister just older than my mother.  They were very close in age, just a little over a year apart. Tonight when I talked to Mom, she asked me if I had talked to Imogene since she came to visit. I said, "No, I haven't seen her. Have you?"  My mom told me that she had not.  I asked her who told her she came to visit, and she said that one of the "girls" (meaning one of her sisters) had told her that.  My dad quickly intercepted the conversation and told her that Imogene was in Ogallala, and has not come to visit. My mom started to protest, but my dad quickly interjected that they have not talked to anyone in Nebraska recently so he was sure she was not in Tucson. My mother is now having time distinguishing how far away Indiana is from where she lives, and how far Ogallala is in reference to either of us. Imogene, on the other hand, is still sharp as a tack!

I certainly love all my aunt's, but I've always loved teasing Imogene the most. She went on to marry Clarence Davison and gave him 7 boys so you can imagine how many stories she has to tell.  I love to hear her stories, and I love her smile, and I especially love the way she says, "Ohhh, Rod" or Monte or Kent or any of the boys when they get her goat. She has this thing she does where she twirls her hair with her right hand.  It is her classic MO. When I was in High School, I taped her on my reel to reel tape player.  I don't know how in the world I ever taped her without her knowing it, but she never noticed until I played it back to her.  She made me promise I wouldn't ever let anyone hear it. I'm pretty sure I erased it. I did get the opportunity, however, to tape her last Christmas when we were in Nebraska for Dort's funeral. She was on a roll and telling story after story. Perhaps one day, I will put some of her stories on here.

10 lessons we learn from journeys

When we embrace the journey and don't just live for the destination, 

we discover a deeper life. Jeff Goins

Thanks to Jeff Goins for his insight into the journeys we take even when we don't want to take them.

10 lessons we learn from journeys

Journeys are important — both physical ones as well as figurative ones. They help remind us that we are not done yet, that life itself is a trip that we can make the most of or completely miss the point.

So here are 10 brief lessons I learned from my trip. Maybe they'll help you on whatever journey you're taking:

1. No journey is perfect. Take one, anyway. You will grow regardless.
2. The destination is never quite what we expect. But without one, we wander aimlessly. So having a final arrival point is important if for no other reason than it gets you started.
3. Only when we let go of what we think we deserve can we really enjoy what we have.
4. Inspiration is everywhere. You just need eyes to see it. Yes, even in cornfields.
5. The hard part isn't getting from point A to B. It's paying attention to what's around you before you miss it.
6. A journey is less meaningful when traveled alone. We need community to make the most of all experiences, even if that means finding it along the way.
7. Art helps us process. A good book or great record not only helps pass the time; it gives language to an experience you might otherwise not be able to describe.
8. Gratitude makes any experience better. It's easy to want to be home or some place else but we have no control over that. Turns out all we can control is our attitude. So why not be thankful?
9. The best journeys have a purpose. But expect to be surprised and even see that purpose change.
10. If you accomplish nothing, see nothing, even feel nothing, take heart. Whether you realize it or not, you've changed. And this is reason enough to continue traveling.

What are you learning about life in the midst of whatever journey you're on?

The Chief

For the longest time, people referred to my dad as "The Chief".  He was actually one of the youngest soldiers to make chief at that time in the history of the Air Force.  These first two pictures were actually taken well before he was chief.  We lived in Guam at the time on the edge of the jungle.  I was only 2 at the time so I don't remember our first tour in Guam at all. My mom told me once that I was scared to death when my dad walked out into the water that day, but I always knew that I was safe when my dad was nearby.

My dad has always been an "in charge" kind of guy and a little bit of a control freak, but as he advances in age, it is becoming increasingly harder to maintain that edge especially with something that one can't control. My mother's memory loss is having a huge effect upon my father. Not too long ago during the middle of the day, my phone rang. My father doesn't usually call me during the middle of the day so I thought it odd that it rang once and hung up.  Thirty seconds later, it happened again. I dialed him up and asked him if anything was wrong. He was frustrated and then proceeded to tell me that my mother wanted my phone number.  However, being technology illiterate, he didn't know how to access his address book on the cell phone so he would dial me up, write down a couple of numbers and hang up until he had my complete number written down.  I said, "Dad, why did you need my phone number?" He then proceeded to tell me that my mom insisted that my Aunt Dort (who died this past December) needed my phone number and address and she wanted my dad to write it down so she had it ready to give to Dort when she called.

My father is a proud man and it is hard for him to ask or admit that he needs help. He is doing the absolute best that he can in a world that has moved far beyond his control. I've read about how the stress of the caregiver takes its toll on the caregiver's health, and this is also showing up at this time. Tonight, he went to my sister's house to have her look over his medicine because he was sure that today was October 20th and he was going to have a stress test at the cardiologist this Friday.

My father has lived in denial for a long time concerning my mother's memory.  He didn't want to see what we saw, but he is finally admitting that there is a problem. I'm sure to him it feels like he is going back in time to when my mother had her brain tumor, but this time he can't fix it.  He can't go back home to Nebraska and find a doctor who can solve the problem. He can't take her to the Fitzsimmons Hospital in Denver to remove a tumor because sometimes, no matter how hard you try...you just can't fix it.

Before tumors and memory loss...

This is one of my favorite pictures of my parents with my sister. This was taken in 1954 prior to my mother being diagnosed with a brain tumor. It really is a miracle that my mother has lived as long as she has considering the fact that doctors didn't know all that much about brain surgery in 1954. My mother's brain tumor was in her cerebellum. She was in the hospital for months and had to learn how to walk and talk from scratch after her surgery. She missed all the milestones of her first born. My sister learned how to walk while my mom was in the hospital in Denver.

As I've mentioned before, my mom's memory is fading...or regressing really. I called tonight and she couldn't tell me where they were at the time or what they were doing.  She has a hard time completing sentences, and when she does, it doesn't make sense. I asked her if she was going to meet Linda for supper, and she said, "Probably...would you like to come?" I told her I wouldn't be coming until Thanksgiving, and she said, "Are you in Ogallala?"  I said, "No Mom, I'm in Indiana.  She asked me what I was doing in Indiana so I told her I was driving home from work. She said, "Oh, did you quit your job?" I thought my mom's memory would still be intact when I get there in November, but now I'm beginning to wonder.

To and From...

Foggy start on my drive to work this morning. We're at the time of year when summer melts into fall and the temperature keeps bouncing back and forth from warm to cool.

Understanding Who We Were Helps to Understand Who We Are

This picture was taken on my first day of first grade. We lived on Calle Dened at that time in the city of Tucson, Arizona.  Miss Fox was my teacher.  She got married that year, but I do not remember her married name. Our school was just a couple of blocks from our house and we walked to and from school every day. Sometime after these pictures were taken,  my sister broke her finger. On one particular day, my mother had to take my sister to the doctor for a checkup to make sure it was healed. She left me at home with my lunchbox, and told me to walk to the school when the alarm clock went off. I wasn't the greatest at telling time back then. Digital clocks weren't invented yet so the clock my mother set was the old fashioned hands on the face alarm clock. Being the inquisitive kid that I was, I got bored and messed around with the clock sitting on the side table. Needless to say, the alarm never went off. I waited and waited and waited, but the alarm didn't do what it was supposed to do. Somewhere around mid morning, I opened my lunchbox and ate my Hostess Snowball, and later my sandwich, but still the alarm didn't go off. My mother was an Avon Lady so after dropping my sister off at school, she went on her route.  I was home alone for hours. Around noon I walked to the neighbors and Marian (my friend, Rachel's mother) met me at the door. She told me that Rachel just got home for lunch and wasn't ready to go back to school yet. I started crying and told her that I had been home all morning. That was the first time that my nerves made me physically sick. For reasons I still don't understand, Marian took me back to my house and put me in bed. Later that afternoon, my mother came home. Marian met her in the driveway and told her what had happened. That was the last time I stayed by myself for a very long time. I honestly don't think I stayed alone until I was in high school. Even after I got married, that feeling never left me.  It's funny how things from our youth affect us for years to come. I always thought it was so ironic that I married someone whose job took him away from the house at night, and I was alone most of the time. I overcame it because I had no choice. It took me years to overcome those feelings, and even today, when I'm not looking, it sneaks up on me.

I don't remember much about the first day of school, but I do remember these paperdolls in the picture above and the Kissie dolls in the picture below. We wore Oxfords in those days, and I remember how we had to polish them with white shoe polish every Saturday so they would look nice for church the next day.  I hated oxfords for years and years after that, but now the thought of them make me smile. It was a simpler time back then when kids could be kids. We were free to ride our bikes in the street because there wasn't much traffic on our street, and when there was, the cars drove slowly because drivers expected kids to be out in their yards and the street playing, not holed up in a house playing video games. 

My dad built us a playhouse in our backyard.  We thought that playhouse was the coolest thing ever! It's funny, but I don't remember the heat, and it must have been hot in that playhouse at times, but I don't remember that. The picture below was taken at my sister's birthday party in 1962. She was 9 years old and I was 5 1/2.We were playing some kind of game like "Red Light Green Light" OR "Mother May I?".

Banking on the Bike

This is how my husband does his banking. Another beautiful day in the neighborhood.

Peterbilt on the build.

Before pictures of Marlin's new ride. Stay tuned in the weeks to come for a new and better Peterbilt. Marlin says this is the truck he will retire in...it will have wood floors and power seats. It's pretty well gutted right now. Paint job is next!

Railsback Professional Family Photo

From L to R in back: Mavis, Maxine, Merl, Ila, Dort. Middle Row: Dee, Imogene, Kate (my mom), Donald Front Row: Leona (my Grandma) holding Verlyn, Loren in Front, Lloyd (my Grandpa )

A Family of 13 Children raised in the Great Depression

Coming from a family of two children, I always wondered what it was like to come from a family of 13 children like my mother. I think the Railsbacks were a spirited bunch and they always seemed to have a lot of fun together. My mother was the youngest girl, and the 9th to be born. Imogene was very close in age, but older and the boys were younger. In this picture, from left to right are Dee, Kate (mom), Imogene, Donald and Loren standing in front of him. My mother is currently living in a time when her siblings are alive, yet she still knows me and I am in the present.  Its funny how the mind takes hold of certain memories and certain people.  I never knew Donald. I believe he died before I was born. My mother told me that Donald died in his twenties.  The year or so before he died, he had been in a  motorcycle accident and had not been wearing a helmet, and nearly died from that accident. He died of a gunshot wound.  My mother said they called it a suicide, but she did not believe it.  She thought he had been murdered although she never gave me any kind of theory about who she thought would have done such a thing. I guess we will never know.

This is my mom, and her oldest brother, Merl.  She admired him deeply although we didn't get to see a lot of him when I was growing up because he lived in California, and well, we lived all over the world. Merl was the educated one of the whole bunch.  He was the only child to graduate from college, and taught in the public school for many years.

Another family photo. This one was taken when Loren was the baby. From left to right in the back row are Mavis, Maxine, Dorothy, Ila, Merl, Grandma Leona holding Loren, Grandpa Lloyd, and in the front row are Dee, Kate, Imogene and Donald. My mom was big on writing on pictures so this is her handwriting. I love the shadows in the foreground. I wish she had identified who they were. :) I can't imagine what it was like raising 13 kids during the Dust Bowl Days. Some of the older children were "farmed out" to other relatives so they had the opportunity to go to school in town. My mother never lived with anyone else though.  She always lived at home with her mom and dad, Imogene, and the boys.

The Railsback Boys

I talked to my mom on the way home tonight which is the regular custom of my drive home. Her memory has been fading in recent years, but the past six months have gotten progressively worse in a short amount of time. Tonight I asked her what she had done today.  She said that she had not done too much but they were supposed to meet "the boys" tonight. "Are you meeting them for supper?", I asked. "No," she said. I asked her where they were meeting (not really understanding who "the boys" were at the time). She said, "Oh, you know, in this town where I am at." Then she went on to say that she was just waiting for Dee to call her, but he had not done so yet (Dee passed about a decade ago.  In fact, all of "the boys" in the picture above are gone except Loren). I asked again, "Who is supposed to be calling you?" She thought for a moment, and then repeated, "Dee! I'm just waiting for his phone call." After I hung up, I called my sister, and she said that Mom kept talking about "the boys" this weekend, and mentioned Donny and Dee so she figured that "the boys" were her brothers. In the picture above are my mother's brothers from left to right: Loren, Dee, Verlyn, Merl and Donald..."The

Railsback Boys!"

Dishes

I have to admit that I like the looks of old dishes on a shelf.  However, I'm not sure that renting the dishes is what I want to do anymore. They were fun collecting, but renting them out has become a chore for me, and really, not worth my time so I think I will sell them while vintage dishes are still the rage. Due to some recent events, I've realized that being the packrat that I am, I have held on to way too much "stuff" over the past 35 years. Perhaps it is because I was raised by dust bowl survivors who were raised in the depression era. In addition to working on these dishes this week, I've been going through my file cabinets and throwing away things that I should have thrown out a long time ago...warranty files for things I haven't owned in 10 years, committee meeting notes from Youth Council and Counterpoints and church committees that I've served on. I'm not sure what it says about me that I hold on to things way longer than I should. 

No more Condemnation...

Romans 8:1 There is therefore now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus.

David Jeremiah has been teaching on God's Better Plan. He mentioned on his radio program on November 11th, " If you have given your life to Christ, your sins are forgiven, your past, your present and your future sin. Sin will affect your fellowship with God, but it does not affect your relationship with God. " We are still a child of God no matter how many times we sin. Our sin can never change that relationship. However, I am reminded that we are the ones that break fellowship with Him and I can only imagine that we don't have an inkling of how much pain that causes Him.  I'm sorry Lord. Please forgive me.

My Ladybug turns 65!

Yesterday, I met my little ladybug for lunch to celebrate 65 years of life! We met at my favorite restaurant, Tulip Noir, in Indianapolis. I let Yvonne pick out the kind of Blooming Tea and she chose Love which was white tea with jasmine and rose. It was fun to watch as it bloomed in front of us.

Yvonne has Multiple Myeloma. She looks so healthy, but what can't be seen is her emerging journey out of remission as her numbers are now beginning to climb (which is a bad thing). I love her smile.  She always has a way of making me laugh, and it reminded me of how health giving laughter can be.

Kate

My momma went by Kate but her given name was Katherine Marie Railsback. She was the 9th child of my grandparents, John Lloyd Railsback and Leona Celestia Railsback. There were 13 children born to My grandparents. Eleven of them are in the picture above. By this time in 1941, they had already lost Harry Lee as a baby and Sonny as a 14 year old. The only ones remaining today are Mavis, Maxine, Imogene, Mom, and Loren.  

From left to right, I believe are Ila, Imogene, Leona holding Verlyn, LLoyd, Kate, Merl standing behind Donny, Dort behind Dee, Mavis holding on to Lorney, and Maxine.

Where were you on September 11th?

She saw it all standing there in the harbor as nearly 3000 people lost their lives. Do you remember where you were at the time, or the disbelief that what you were watching was somehow not real? Working at Compasys at the time, I heard Dave yell from the other end of the house. I thought he was injured until I turned the corner into the kitchen and Dave yelled down the stairs, "Watch the TV!" I tried to wrap my mind around what was happening when on live TV, a second plane slammed into the other tower. We were glued to the telecast for what seemed like an eternity, and somehow I knew that our lives had been changed forever.

Photographs & Memories

I've always loved photography. I started taking pictures when I was in the 6th grade living in the Deep South. My early pictures were often pictures of family & friends sprinkled in with landscapes of the Mississippi countryside in 1967. I'm not sure what happened to that first photo album or I would have put some of those  photos here. I don't think most people think about the pictures they post, but I've always thought that photographs reveal a lot about who and what is important to a person.