Breakfast in The Netherlands

The Netherlands - February/March 1995

I will forever remember my first breakfast in The Netherlands. Yes, it was exciting --visiting a foreign country for the first time and living with a Dutch family for two weeks.

But that is not why I remember it. My first Dutch breakfast was actually embarrassing. There is no other word for to describe it.

After a 22-hour flight, and almost no sleep, I finally arrived in Amsterdam, Holland.

My friend Edward met me at the airport and then whisked me away. We arrived in Velp two hours later, where he had two bicycles ready for us. I was pretty tired but Edward was so excited about the afternoon he had planned, that I decided I’d keep quiet. And, in all of his excitement, Edward forgot about dinner. My jet arrived at 2 p.m. and I was too shy to mention that I was starving. I had been too nervous to eat on the plane. We finally stopped to share a bag of French fries -- with mayonnaise. Mayonnaise? How very odd, I thought. Where’s the ketchup? He also picked up a bag of little whole fishes, but I refused to eat them.

After riding through the countryside and into Germany and back – he lived near the border and I wanted to say that I had been there – we finally headed home in time for what they called “8 o’clock coffee.”

The Dutch are famous for their coffee drinking. And 8 o’clock coffee in the parlour was mandatory in the Van Drissen family. You simply did not miss it. Ever! In my situation, I was glad and I was more than ready for a little coffee. Because that also meant that we would get a cookie with it.

Before retiring to my room, on the fifth floor, Edward’s mother reminded me that breakfast would be served at 8 a.m.

There was a university not far from the home and Edward’s family ran a boarding home for college girls. I had been invited to stay in their home as their guest during the duration of my trip. That night I slept like a baby.

The next morning, I came down to find everyone sitting at the table, waiting.

“Good morning,” I said but only Edward answered. His parents looked at the clock. It was 8:03 a.m. It was awkward. I apologized and they nodded but I could tell they were not pleased.

Note to self – “Do not be late again.”

I was starving and wondered what we might have. But it turned out that breakfast consisted of a piece of toast and a piece of cheese. Nothing more.

I really was famished. I took my toast, buttered it, and bit into it with gusto, the good ol’ American way -- with butter touching my fingers and crumbs falling everywhere.

It was only then that I noticed everyone else cutting their toast into small squares – using a fork and knife and eating one square at a time with the fork. It was then that I noticed the silverware next to my plate.

“Oh my God,” I thought. “What must they think of me? They must think I am some sort of savage! I’ve only been here one night and already I am showing poor table manners."

It was at this point that I noticed that there were no napkins at the table. Not knowing what else to do, I swallowed quickly.

That is when I noticed something else – there were no drinks at the table. What kind of family was this? Certainly I would choke to death soon.

Fortunately I spotted some paper towels on the far wall, next to their sink. I realized I had two choices, get up and get one or stay seated and look messy for the rest of the meal.

I decided to quietly stand, retrieve the paper towel and return to my seat. Yes, the family noticed but it was better this way.

I learned several things that first morning in The Netherlands and I made several notes to self – always be on time, carry a small napkin in pocket, remember to use cutlery for everything and oh yes, never swallow anything too quickly.

[I also never realized, until after I left, that the family never talked at the dinner table. They always ate in silence. While I was there, I was bubbly and talked about home and asked lots of questions. Edward said he liked the change I made for them. So, at least I introduced a little California sunshine into their lives.]

Birthday and miscellaneous

Life is so hectic for me that when I was asked where I would like to go for my birthday dinner, I only had one answer -- HOME.

I love staying home.

I did have to work this morning but I made it a point to stay home all afternoon/evening. We ordered pizza for lunch and for dinner, I made simple BRC burritos. (beans, rice and cheese) As far as I was concerned, it was the perfect birthday meal -- delicious and fit for a queen.

Speaking of Queens -- I am the current reigning queen (a game we play) at Absolute Write. I was thrilled to have the honor of being royalty for the week. And it couldn't come at a more appropriate time - it is not only my birthday, but my one-year anniversary at the site. How cool is that? :) It really made the honor more special for me.

I have another reason for having an ecstatic birthday.

Today's newspaper at Porterville Recorder ran my stories on "Living Here 2006" -- It was so awesome to see the little magazine-newspaper insert with all of my stories. I must say "great work" to Glen Faison, my Porterville Recorder editor (and the others putting it together) for some great work there.

And, a story I wrote for The Fresno Bee on a little girl (Camron Ascencio) from my home town made front page of the South Valley Bee - complete with two color pictures (one that I took of her, the other her mother contributed - she's listening to our national anthem after accepting the gold medal) and another contributed photo on the inside page. That little girl is amazing. She's 13 and just won the gold medal for the United States at the 2006 World Baton Twirling Championships, in Rome, Italy. She's the first American to ever win the title. (Japan has dominated that field for the past eight years, sweeping everything from first through seventh place, almost every year.) Anyway, I felt so blessed to be able to interview this little girl and the layout on the paper was amazing. Kudos to my editors, Gene Garaygordobil and Kathleen Coates for a job well done on that layout.

On a sad publishing note -- my editor at Valley Voice magazine left this week. I'm going to miss him. I was quite excited because he had just asked me to write a piece for DISCOVER (a local magazine) that comes out twice a year. I wrote the story and turned it in but now I do not know if they will use it. I hope they do. I would love to see my name in the pretty, glossy-cover magazine.

On a sadder, more personal, note -- my sister in Phoenix is very sick. I wish I could go see her. I will try to get out there soon. Also, my uncle died a few days ago. My mom was expecting it but it was still hard for her. I am taking her to Southern California next Tuesday. We'll stay down there a couple of days. (That is why I can't go see Lily next week.)

Fortunately, I'm almost caught up on stories again. I have another special section coming out in the Porterville paper - the Women in Business section -- which comes out in a week or two.

Twirling in Blue

Lily twirled around the room while holding a light blue dress against her little body.

“I’m wearing this,” she said. “What are you wearing?”

I stared at my little sister. I hadn’t given any thought to my wardrobe. I was 6 years old. I did not care what I wore. Whatever I grabbed out of the closet first, or whatever my mother would hand me, that is what I wore.

“I want Daddy to see me in this,” she said as she twirled some more. “This is such a pretty color – just like the sky.”

I remember feeling ashamed. I never thought for a minute that our father might see us. Why would he? He had never seen us before.

“Is Daddy really going to see?” I asked my older sister.

“Of course, he is,” Becky replied.

I still didn’t believe it. Papa was blind. He had been blind since age 22. He had been a welder for the Ford Company near Ann Arbor, Michigan. The company sent him to a specialist when he complained of blurry vision after work one day but nothing could be done to save his sight. Within six months, he was 100-percent blind. He did not see shadows. He did not see anything.

Growing up in a strict Pentecost family, I had seen attempt after attempt of young and seasoned ministers – all praying diligently to have God restore his sight. A few strange ministers, not from our church, even went as far as trying to cast devils out of my father.

Papa was a Godly man. He had spent many a year as a missionary, preaching in Mexico after his accident. He played guitar and had a great voice for singing. He taught himself piano and accordion and he and my mother would fill everything from small shacks to large tents with people anxious to hear the word of God.

“Why are you blind, Papi?” I asked him once.

He started to tell me about his work.

“No. I know that. But, why hasn’t God healed you?”

I still remember what he told me.

"Sometimes, God can use a person with a handicap more than he could if that person is whole," he told me.

Simple. I nodded and smiled. Papa must have sensed it. He smiled too.

I understood perfectly and I never asked again.

But now, there was excitement in the air. We were all going to Los Angeles to a [famous television preacher] crusade.

I wanted my Papa to see. I really did. But deep down I knew he would return the same. And that made me feel ashamed.

I tried to get excited. I remember picking a yellow dress, my favorite, to wear – just in case.

With 10 children in the family, we didn’t venture out too often. But that day, we all climbed into our family station wagon for the four-hour trip south.

As we arrived at the Los Angeles Convention Center, Lily was jumping up and down, talking excitedly of how she wanted to hug my Papa first, so that he could see her pretty dress.

I remember watching miracle after miracle. A deaf woman could suddenly hear. A man in a wheelchair got up and walked. Every time the crowd would clap and praise God.

I was happy for them. I was. But I was so scared.

Finally it was my Papa’s turn. I saw him walk forward, holding on to my mother’s arm and I saw the minister talking to him and asking about his sight. He prayed for my Papa.

I’m not sure what all happened. I know there was prayer and a lot of Hallelujahs coming from the crowd.

“Can you see this? Follow my hand,” the man seemed to be yelling, as if being louder would make it happen.

My father shook his head and said he couldn’t see a thing.

Somehow I remember those words but not a whole lot more.

Finally, they stopped. The minister told my father that he needed to have faith and to return that evening, that this was a test. I also remember the minister talking to the crowd – telling them that they must also believe.

I shrank in my seat. Could this all be my fault? Did I not have enough faith? I wanted to cry. I knew it was my fault. Because of me, my Papa would remain blind.

I don’t know where we went for lunch but we did have plans on returning that afternoon. My Papa told my mother that he was thinking of going home. But my older brothers and sisters insisted we stay. Lily cried. She was so positive that he would see her blue dress before the end of the day.

We sat in the crowd, far from the front, when the minister called out for my Papa.

“Papa! That’s you!” Lily cried out but was quickly hushed. “They’re calling you. Didn’t you hear them?”

But my Papa wouldn’t budge. He shook his head no.

I don’t remember the rest of the service. I remember feeling horrible at the things the person was saying. How could he say such ugly things? He said the blind man did not have enough faith and refused to let God heal him. He said my Papa was wicked. He said things that made me cry.

No one else tried to talk Papa into going forward. Even Lily stopped insisting. I don’t remember a whole lot more but I do remember him talking to my mother and I guess my older siblings on the way home.

“I don’t believe God wants me to see right now,” Papa said. “God has a plan for us. It is not in his will for me to see – not today, anyway.”

I believed Papa. You don’t belittle people the way that man on stage did. I worried about Lily. I knew she wouldn’t understand. She was only 4 years old. How could she?

I turned to glance at her. She had crawled from the back of the station wagon to the middle aisle seat and into my older sister’s arms. I didn’t have to worry about her. She didn’t hear a thing. She was sound asleep.

My father was blind for more than 30 years and never did see eight of his ten children. I was only 17 when he died. Lily was 15. He never saw either of us - nor Lily's blue dress.

But I know some day he will see us in heaven. I have dreamt it many times and always --- I see my little sister, as a 4-year-old, in that same dream, twirling in her little blue dress.

“Can you see me, Papa?”

Spinach and Al Qaeda

I am the kind of person who adds a little spinach to my salad when I visit salad bars.

"Gotta keep the spinach farmers in business" -- someone told me when I was little, and it always stayed with me. I say the same things to my daughters now.

But I had never bought spinach at the supermarket or had an official "spinach salad" -- until last week.

Of all the times I had to choose to start.

LOL I thought I was being so healthy. Not only did I add spinach to two big salads during a tennis tournament (for 50 people) last week, but I made myself a really nice and big spinach salad that I actually enjoyed.

It was not until that night that I heard about the spinach e-coli outbreak but I've checked with my daughter, no one on the tennis team has gotten sick.

Still, this reminded me of an incident in 1984, with a watermelon-pesticide scare. About eight people died.

We love watermelon and that day, my husband and I ate some and ended up getting sick. The sicker we got and the worse we felt, the more we ate. We didn't want food so we just sliced up more watermelon. We both ended up in the hospital. I came home right away, James was hospitalized for three days. That is how we learned about the pesticide poisoning. We were lucky. We could have died.

It's scary, when you think about it -- contaminating fruits and vegetables. It's so simple to do.

I live in the Central San Joaquin Valley -- everything is grown here! All it takes is for Al Qaeda terrorists to decide to contaminate our food source and we would be a bit of a mess. How do we know for sure if anything is safe to eat or drink?

I've been reading about some fish program that the government uses - to keep track of whether or not the water is contaminated. If the fish are fine, the water is fine. Simple.

Spinach, Tennis, Football and Wrestling

I just heard on Jay Leno earlier (one of my news sources) about the E-coli outbreak with bagged spinach. Oh oh! Just today I made a made a tossed salad -- complete with cherry tomatoes, croutons AND spinach from a bag -- for about 50 people. My daughter had a tennis tournament and since our school was the official host, the parents provided dinner.

I have not gone online to see what spinach it was. I bought bags with SpongeBob on the front.
(Oxnard, CA)

The tournament was fun. My daughter played three times and lost once. But because it was a "for fun" tournament, it does not count against her undefeated status. Actually, she was moved up to the No. 1 Varsity Doubles team for the tournament. I was very proud of her.

I was there from noon till after 5 p.m., then I rushed to take the salads in (I had premade them in the morning) and then hurried to take my girls to their first football game. I had volunteered to slice tomatoes for band boosters hamburger stand, so once I did that, I rushed to take my other daughter and son to the Convention Center.

Mike and Marisa are spending the night at the Convention Center in order to get some kind of WWE wrestling tickets that go on sale tomorrow

I hurried back to watch my two high school daughters perform at half time (both are in band) and then went home to do some more writing and print up invitations to my mother's upcoming BIG 85th celebration.

I don't think I will sleep any tonight. I have already gone by the convention center to check on my Down Syndrome kids five times! They were fine. It's going to be a long and cold night. Tickets do not go on sale till 10 a.m.

9/16:
update: they got second-row seats. All front row seats were reserved. I also finished all of my story assignments and even though I said I wouldn't do this again, I then took on 8 more stories for three separate papers for next week. LOL Somehow after I caught up with those original ones, I figured it wasn't so bad.
And finally -- My tennis daughter has had two more meets, and remains undefeated. :) Yea!

Almost killed by a train

(update: 9/26: I had called the city and today I see that they fixed the sign. There is now a R/R crossing up)

I have a few phobias. I am scared of heights, earthquakes and trains!

There are railroad tracks about three blocks from my home. I pass them about 20 times a day as I come and go. Though I'm scared of being near tracks and approaching trains, I am not scared of riding in trains and I love the sound of the whistle. The train goes by in the mornings, at noon, around 5 p.m. and in the middle of the night. I always enjoy listening to the whistles.

But because of my phobia, I am always cautious when I cross any tracks.

Today, I came within inches - from having my car slammed, almost head on by a train. The road I took does not have a stop sign. It does not have R/R lights. There is a small, broken R/R sign. And there is a building just before the railroads. In that same area, the railroad curves and comes out from behind the building and can hit a car head on.

I was driving about 20 mph. I did not have my radio on. (usually I do and I am so glad I didn't.) I was not talking on my cell phone (I have a bluetooth but I was not on a call and I am so glad)
I did have the A/C on full blast because my car had been sitting for a few hours and it was a very hot day.

I never heard the train whistle.
I never heard anything.

But as I cleared the building, the train was right there. I slammed my brakes and stopped inches from the train as it went by. One more mph on my part and I would have been history.

I did not see my life flash before my eyes. In fact, I'm surprised that I stayed so calm. I quickly put the car in reverse and backed up a bit.

After the train passed, I drove to the other side of the tracks and pulled over and thanked God for sparing my life. I did not want to die in such a tragic way. My children would be traumatized. Thank God I was alone.

Only after the train passed by did I get scared. I am not exaggerating when I say that I came inches from the train. If I were sitting on the hood of my car, I could reach out and touch it. I was that close. One more inch and the train would be scratching my car.

I don't think God was ready for me. Or maybe I wasn't ready for heaven. Either way, I'm thankful to still be here.

Back from my cruise

I'm back from my cruise - which I really enjoyed and know that I needed, yet I can't help but wish I had not gone. Too much happened while I was away.

On the plus side, I slept like a baby during the trip. But, I never got any writing done. Zero. It was naiive of me to think that I could. I did not take my lap top and I'm glad.

On the not-so-good side, I have not slept since my return. Sunday night, I slept two hours. I was so tired on Monday and had to put in a 6-hour day at work (medical work) -- since I had not been here all week, I had my day filled with appointments in four towns and two different counties. I then attended my daughter's tennis match. She won! Yeea! She's still undefeated. And from there we went directly to College Night 2006 at the Visalia Convention Center. It made for a super long first day back.

But aside from that, so much happened locally -- things that I would have loved to have been here for.

* The Visalia Drive-in Movies closed. They showed their last movie last Thursday and I would have loved to have been there. It is sad to see them all close - though I can see how economically it just isn't profitable.
* Also closing was Merle's Drive-in. They have been a Visalia landmark and icon since the 30s? President Richard Nixon ate there once. It was awesome. I remember the first time I went there for a hamburger and milkshake. The place is famous and I have seen photos of it in many books. It was like an old fashion Sonic - complete with roller-skating waitresses - though not for a while now. I'll try to go by and take a photo of the two places - both on Mooney Blvd., but a good four or five miles apart.
* Two more people were diagnosed with West Nile Virus in our area. And, anyone who visited the Fresno Fulton Mall over the weekend, may have been exposed to Rabies.
*Olympian Bob Mathias (two gold medals for the U.S.) died - he's from here (Tulare) and we have the track at Tulare High named after him. His funeral was held in Tulare and attracted many dignitaries and several other olympic-medalist athletes.
* Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger was in town.
* A plane crash killed two men near Porterville.

There were several other local things and I can't think at the moment. Of course, it is 3:30 in the morning and I should be sleeping.

I worried for two days (while on my trip) about my writing assignments. I then made a decision that it was impossible to work on them from the ship and enjoyed the rest of the trip. That means that I now have 7 stories, with 7 sidebars that I must finish by the middle of next week. And two other non-related stories for other newspapers also due next week.

Today I must see my mama. I need to take her shopping and help her around the house. And with her big birthday party around the corner, I am putting the finishing touches on her invitations, that I hope I can start printing in the next day or two. I really neeed to mail them all out.

For now, it looks like my laptop has not been charged and it's about to die, so I better sign off and get back to bed.

I probably will not be posting for a while.

Rose Bowl - Commercials - and a five-day cruise

I'm happy to say that my mom's health has been great. We've been blessed in that area lately. She is turning 85 in a month and we are planning a really big party for her. Here is a picture of her on her 80th birthday party. She's playing badminton. In the second photo, she's just driven my little red convertible, shortly after I got it (1999?)

<----- That's my mom -- she was born in Pasadena so we always refer to her as the little old lady from Pasadena.

Speaking of Pasadena, I've been invited by Jim Kusserow, Porterville Panther Band director, to join the band for the Rose Bowl parade on January 1 in Pasadena. That is so exciting! What an honor! I'll be covering the band's activities from Dec. 29 through Jan. 1 -- writing for the Porterville Recorder.

I've been pretty busy lately. I thought I would have a lot of free time to work on my WIP once my children were back in school, but nothing could be further from the truth -- I am busier than ever. I feel like a taxi service but that's ok - that's my choice and I am not complaining, just explaining.

My days start early. Two children start school at 7 a.m., one at 8:30 and one at 11 a.m. -- in the afternoon, I play taxi again - at 2 p.m., 2:30, 3:20, 4:30 and 5:30. (one child comes home and then returns for sports) -- On Tuesdays, I add more taxi rounds at 6 and 8:30 p.m. (to and from band practice)and Friday nights - to and from the football games. And, of course, there are at least two tennis matches a week that I attend. (I try to make every single one of them - including out of town.) Thank goodness softball season does not conflict right now. That's a whole other ballgame.

I've been busy writing and working too. I work two to three hours every day at a medical office and then write for newspapers on a regular basis. Today I received seven new assignments that are due soon. Thursday and Friday I will be recording several more commercials for the Bakersfield Californian newspaper - in English and Spanish for radio and (this time) for television too! I am very excited about it. I have never done a television commercial for them.

I enjoy recording radio commercials. That's always so cool to do. And the first time I heard the commercial on the radio, I screamed. It is so odd hearing your own voice on the radio. You can't help but smile. :)

In the meantime, I'm off to see my uncle again. He's dying of cancer in Los Angeles and I promised to take my mom on Wednesday.

But finally I will have some time to work on my novel next week. I'm taking off (alone - with no children) for a five-day cruise to Catalina Island, San Diego and Ensenada On Labor Day with my sister Becky, her daughter-in-law and my sweet grand-nephew (age 1?)

I plan to write - write - write, and I'm really looking forward to a little R and R.

Harley Davidson ride

Even with lack of sleep, I've been doing ok and working. In fact, I had stories in three different newspapers this week.

One story was fun -- the class of 1956 was digging up their time capsule and I was there to cover the event. But, it was not there. Bummer. Still, I enjoyed covering the story. (My class of 76 time capsule was also missing)

Another story had to do with a Harley Davidson group having a poker run to raise money for our local sheriff's K9 units. I wrote the pre story and now they want me to cover the actual event.

It's a cool story. BUT -- it gets better. I was invited to ride along (they promised me I wouldn't fall off) at the event -- 120 miles.

Can you imagine? I'm actually not a big motorcycle fan but the thought is intriguing. I may not do the entire ride. They have several stops along the way and I may just take a leg of it.
It sounds scary. I mean, you can't really make a promise like that ("we have some great drivers. we promise you won't fall off.") An accident is an accident. Still, these guys drive these things all the time.

If you had the chance, would you do it? I told them I'd let them know by Friday.

It is times like this that I really love my job. I can't believe I get paid to do things like this. :)

Sleepless in Visalia - again

Well, it's happening again. No sleep. The last four days have been really bad. I wake up at 1 a.m. and stay awake till 4 - 5 a.m. -- jumping at every little sound, my heart racing up to 110 beats per minute. I sleep less than three hours a night and then work all day.

During the day, I'm fine.

I thought it was due to a combination of things -- the high school reunion, my mother, (she had another fall yesterday and banged her head on the sidewalk) my kids, a dying uncle, an aunt who died two days ago and my work. I kept thinking once things settled down, things would be better.

But, today it started crossing over to my day. Usually, my symptoms disappear during the day.
So, I decided enough was enough and I made an appointment with a doctor.

Spider Identified - I think

A few posts ago, I posted a picture of a spider found in our home. It was huge (by my standards)

Matt D. suggested I check out whats that bug dot com -- I did. As much as I dislike bugs, I was fascinated by the site.

I didn't find my spider but I did query in my question and photo and they found it for me.

My spider looks identical (same mark on back) to a Huntsman Spider. The first one is mine. The other spider has two rows of the markings but I saw several pics of spiders with only one row.
Either way, this spider was a bit too fuzzy and too large for my liking. (think baby tarantula)



Now - my question is: How the heck did it get here?
I have been reading that they are from Australia.
Thank you, Matt, for your help in identifying it.

Sorry seems to be the hardest words ... not really

I have been listening to the Mel Gibson incident a lot lately and to be honest -- I don't understand why people can not accept an apology any more.

I realize that what he did was wrong. He realizes it. He apologized.

“I acted like a person completely out of control when I was arrested and said things that I do not believe to be true and which are despicable,” the actor-director said without elaborating. (AP story)

Actually, he's apologized more than once.

But I guess that wasn't enough. Now I hear that the Jewish community is not accepting his apology and they want him to do some service work and speaking engagements.

My question is - why?

Why is it NOT enough? Do they feel he is not sincere?

I think what gets to me is that people no longer know how to accept an apology. It's like, "Ok, yea, I forgive you....IF...." and then the list begins.

Jesus forgave unconditionally. Why can't people do the same?

High School Reunion

My 30th high school reunion is this weekend and I've been really busy with some reunion things lately-- but finally it's all come together. Our last meeting (I hope) was last night and come Saturday -- I'll be having fun.

So why am I so nervous about it? I go through this every five years..... I'm getting more and more excited with each passing day but also starting to get more and more nervous....

I know the main thing is to visit with classmates and have fun -- but still...... why am I nervous about this? It's not like I don't know anyone. I've been on the 10, 15, 20, 25 and now 30 year committees. You would think I wouldn't react like this.......

But do you know what is sad? We have so many classmates missing. We had 325 graduates in our class -- but addresses now for about 150 of them. And, only 75 or so are coming to the reunion.

Honorable funeral

I was 17 when my father died. It was only the second funeral I had ever attended.
Now, it seems like I've attended one a week for the past few weeks.

Last week, I attended a most awesome funeral. It was very sad - a police officer died (off duty, struck by a drunk driver) The representation at the funeral was just amazing. As a member of the press, I hung out with all of the press people and took lots of pictures.

There were three blocks of police and sheriff cars and motorcycles.

I am always amazed at all of the officers who come out to support each other -- car after car after car and all of those police motorcycles -- wow! To see that kind of procession is something else.

The policman was also a member of a motorcycle club, and of course, they all came out too.




The previous week, a dear man died. (my sister's grandfather in law) The man was a saint and we had the privilege of having him over several times, at Christmas and Thanksgiving.

I am not Catholic, but sitting there in that pew, with the choir singing -- I felt so much peace.

It was truly a beautiful service.



My parents were very strange when it came to other religions. Maybe that is why I am so open and respect the beliefs of all others -- I don't care what religion they are. I can still love them. When I was 13, a very dear friend died. He was not my boyfriend because I was not allowed to date, but I was so in love with him. I begged my parents to let me go to his funeral. But because he was Catholic, they said no. (I finally visited his grave two years ago for the first time)
Anyway - the service I attended was uplifting. I loved it.

Then this week, I attended the funeral of the father of a dear friend. I am sorry to say I did not really know the man, but wish I did. He was quite a person!

When we got home from the funeral, I found out my uncle is not doing well and he is asking to see my mother. I will be driving her tomorrow (Thursday) to see him in the Los Angeles area -- and I hope we make it in time.

spider

There are only two kinds of spiders where I live -- daddy longlegs and black widows.

So, imagine my surprise when I heard my daughter scream. I had never heard such a frightful scream.
She stood at the doorway shaking, and pointed.

I looked and then ran to get the camera before grabbing a shoe and killing this thing.

Now I wish I hadn't. Why didn't I catch it? This thing was huge. My other daughter said her biology teacher would have loved it.

Jenna had stepped outside to get the mail and when she was coming back in, she saw the spider hanging in mid air - at face level! When she screamed, it continued down and then ran up the door.

At first I thought this was a brown recluse (I thought for sure that was a violin shape on his back) even though I knew that they do not live in this area. Then I read that brown recluses have violin shapes on their heads, not bodies. So, I figured this may be a female Hobo spider.

But I really have no idea what it is.

Anyone out there ever seen one of these? I have zero idea what it may be. Why, oh why, did I kill it? (actually, smashed it and then flushed it down the toilet.)

Since then, I've looked and looked and have not found another one.

13 little things every parent should do with their little ones

The hot weather has continued out West -- as it has everywhere else -- but yesterday was bad for the elderly and children -- reaching 112 in Porterville and 114 in Terra Bella, five miles south of Porterville. We experienced brownouts and short blackouts through the day so I kept my computers off for most of the day.

But, following up on the Thursday 13 thing that I read about on Kelly's blog -- I'll go ahead and post on 13 little things (most of them free) that every parent should do with their little ones.

Little ones grow up too fast. I have done all of these with my children and was always suprised to hear from my nephews and nieces that they never had done some of these things with their parents when they were little.

13 little things every parent should do with their children - in no particular order

1. Make a sand castle (or snow sculpture)
2. Bake a cake (or cookies, etc.)
3. Take your 5-year-old (younger if you think they can handle it) child to a very fancy restaurant for lunch. Before leaving, explain about all the silverware and how to place the napkin, etc. Practice at your own table at home. The child will feel extra special being there. If cost is too much, go out only for dessert. Take one child at a time for some personal one-on-one time.
4. Play charades with your child. (Disney movies work great)
5. Make sock puppets together and then invite the family or neighbors to a sock puppet show
6. play on the swing sets at a park together (not just push, but you get on too)
7. dance together - everything from silly dances to disco, swing, the twist and salsa
8. camp in the backyard - tent, sleeping bags (sorry, we used air mattresses under them) and smores.
9. hugs - lots and lots of them
10. read to them - every day (can't stress this enough - it is so important)
11. buy them a special ornament every Christmas. When they grow up, they'll have a collection to start their tree with. I started this when my girls were born. (A ballerina when they were in dance, a softball player ornament when one started playing. Whatever they loved or did that year, I'd find the perfect ornament. I'd start shopping as soon as they were out in stores, sometimes running into the perfect one in the summer at specialty stores, but I always know when I come across the perfect one for the year.) The best ones were not the expensive boxed ones - many of mine are from International World Market (love that store)
While in New York, I kept looking for one to buy and hide for my daughter who went with me, but I never saw any. But anyway, kids will treasure them and each one will have a year of memories to go with it.
12. Speaking of Christmas, go shopping togeher for a less fortunate child. We live in the Historical District, which means - it is next to the poorest (and highest crime) side of town, so it is easy to find a family every year (they move in and out next door) to semi adopt at Christmas. Depending on how poor they are, we have bought them a tree, lights and ornaments, or sometimes will just buy a special gift for the children. My girls love going shopping for others.
One year we did not know the family very long but we sneaked onto the porch early in the morning and left gifts for the children and a box of food. We knocked on the door and ran away.
Later, the mom came over, with tears, thanking us. She said she had no idea what she was going to tell the kids (recent divorcee and totally broke) and she said it was probably the best Christmas they'd had in a long time.
13. Don't let a single day go by without saying "I love you" to them.

Remember, you reap what you sow.
:)

13 is not a bad number

I have always loved the number 13. And today, I found another reason why. I ran across something called Thursday 13. I saw it on Kelly's blog - and I fell in love with her post. It was so beautiful! If you haven't read "13 reasons we love Grandma's visits" -- you're missing out. No, we all can't have grandmas like that. I never had a grandma. Maybe that is why I loved this post so much. Thank you, Kelly, for sharing a little of your grandmother with the rest of us.

Now...to think of 13 somethings to post about. I know it is Thursday 13 - but it may be the weekend before its up.

End of days?

Every time the weather or moon looks different, my mother will call me to remind me that we are living in the final days.

A couple of weeks ago, the moon was full and orange. It was beautiful. But a bit eerie. This evening, there was a green tint in the sky. I thought it was strange looking but didn't give it a second thought until my youngest daughter came and said, "Whoa! Have you looked outside? It is all green-looking."

We all went out and noticed the way the sun was setting and the strange orange and green lights coming from the west. To the east, there was a large rainbow (it had not rained, or at least not in our immediate area - though it was overcast.)

An hour later, my mom called.

"Have you gone outside?" she said. "It's really strange and there is a huge rainbow out there."

Now, that surprised me. I live 40 minutes north of her. I never expected her to see the same rainbow.

She then started talking about the end times and how these were all signs. It is not that I don't believe her, because I too believe we are in final days (if you consider how many thousands of years have already passed) but I tend to find explanations to things she calls mysteries of God.

Yes, I do believe in God. But I also believe that many people, especially uneducated ones, tend to try to give everything a religous twist.

She had heard of the recent tsunami and brought that up. Then she started talking about strange weather patterns.

I almost asked her if she saw "The Day After Tomorrow" but decided it may scare her too much.

I explained that there is a really big monsoon in Arizona right now -- that's what the weather report said last night -- and it was going to bring a bit of moisture and a lot of high humidity our way. But I'm not sure she listened. Her mind was made up.

"Repent. Repent now for the end is near."

No, she didn't say those words. She knows that I'm a good Christian girl. But I do hear her telling others that. I stopped trying to reason with her. Some things, with some people, are just better off left alone.

We have had some very hot weather lately. And I did remind her that by the weekend, they are forcasting 110 and 111-degrees here. I would love it if she would come and stay with me for the weekend. (I worry so much about her when she does not) Nope. But, she promised to keep the a/c on through the weekend. (She's a constant penny-pincher and would almost prefer to sweat it out than turn the thing on -- even though one of my sisters pays for her electricity.)

Anybody else out there experiencing strange weather phenomenons?

Back in Business

First, I must apologize for anyone that might have tried to view my blog. I know it must have been frustrating if it jammed your computer in the process. At least, that is what kept happening to me.

I have had quite a few days filled with frustration but I believe it has been fixed.

I finally moved all of my band stories to a new page on my personal website and that seems to make everything run smoother.

So, now that I am semi-back, I can once more enjoy posting and reading. Though, I'm not really sure how much time I can dedicate to the Internet because I have been extremely busy with my upcoming 30th year High School Reunion.

But, until then, everyone keep telling those stories -- sooner or later, I'll try to catch up.

Porterville Panther Band - The Fresno Bee

Panthers win top honors at parade

Porterville High band plays in East Coast locations; students tour historical sites.

By Esther Avila / Special to The Fresno Bee
Friday, July 14, 2006

PORTERVILLE — Nine days and nine states later, Porterville High School Panther Band members returned July 6 from their East Coast tour with several thousand dollars in awards under their caps.

The band won top honors at the Fairfax, Va., Independence Celebration parade — an honor that came with a $5,000 award...To read the story, click here.

Porterville High School band director Jim Kusserow walks by as drum major Miguel Soto conducts the band in front of the Fairfax, Va., Independence Day parade judges. Kusserow says he is proud of the band and says they represented the city of Porterville with "maturity and honor."

I've been tagged

It has been awhile since I have participated in a techno-tag game. KellyC has tagged me so I guess it's time to step up to the bat and play.

The perfect parent:
It is hard to believe that all parents do not have their children's best interest in mind. It is heartbreaking to read so many awful stories in the newspapers -- so for you (Kelly) to come in and start tagging on this subject, is refreshing. The qualities you mentioned are beautiful.

I believe a perfect parent (rich or poor) is one who spends quality time with their children. That is the principal key to everything. Of couse, not everyone can be a stay-at-home mom and my heart goes out to single parents who wish they could.

I consider myself (and my kids) very blessed for that ability and I think that is one of the reasons they are such ideal kids.

In my opinion there are several things that children must have in a parent or parent figure:

1. Plenty of love -- "with love, all things are possible" -- is not just a saying. Love is strong. By loving a child, you are giving them self-esteem. Love must be given and shown. Love and respect your significant other and you give your child more than anything else you can dream of.

2. Being there -- A child needs parents to be there for them. I know, many of you have grown up just fine but today's world is so different. Not all children can be left alone for hours at a time. It is too dangerous. We are considered strict parents by many, but we don't care what others think. We are here for our children.

3. Reading -- can't stress this enough. I started reading to my children while they were infants. They not only loved it but by the time they entered kindergarten, they were reading second-grade material. (I never even realized it) They have been overachievers ever since and to this day, they love to read. I think reading to a child is a buildling block that can't be overlooked.

4. Spending quality time -- sometimes you have to let the dishes go while you take time out to take a little one to the park. The dishes will still be there later, your child may not. A perfect parent will take their shoes off and run in the grass with their child. A perfect parent lets her 3-year-old mix the batter while they bake. One of my favorite cherished memories (I wish I had a picture of it) is of my little one wearing a big apron and standing on a chair -- flour all over her face -- as she laughs and tells me about her day while stirring some batter for a birthday cake. Yes, they make a mess and it is simpler to make it yourself -- but the smile it produces and the pride you see beaming from the child when the cake is done --that is priceless!

I'm back!

I will never complain about the heat again! I rarely do but after experiencing the high humidy of the East Coast - I think I can handle the triple digit weather here.

What an amazing week I had -- going to New York, Philadelphia, Fairfax, VA, Washington D.C. and Baltimore.

I returned Thursday but worked Friday and today and had not had a chance to come in and write. I think I'm still living on East Coast time - which is fine - I love going to bed early and waking up so refreshed.

I'm off to see Superman at the theater and relax a bit for the afternoon/evening - but I promise to try to get in some writing (and pictures) about the trip. Hopefully I can start this weekend.

In the meantime, I will copy my stories from the week on here but I will return to add personal posts with pictures.

It's good to be home!

By the way, can anyone tell me how I can arrange these entries in a certain order. I placed all of the band stories in order from Day 1 through last day -- but they aren't appearing in that order. They seem to be jumbled up.

Day 7 - Panther Band East Coast Tour - Fairfax, VA -- Fourth of July

(Photo by Esther Avila)

PHS Band Brings Home Top Honors
By Esther Avila for The Porterville Recorder

FAIRFAX, VA -- Porterville Panther Band members cheered and screamed Tuesday night when they heard their name announced as the overall best high school marching band at the 40th annual City of Fairfax Independence Celebration parade.

To read the story, click here.

Day 6 - Panther Band East Coast Tour - Washington D.C.

Photo by Esther Avila
Story published in the Porterville Recorder on July 4, 2006

They Don't Care if They Ever Get Back

By Esther Avila for The Porterville Recorder

WASHINGTON DC -- There was one main goal on Monday's agenda for the Porterville Panther Band -- to enjoy the day. And that is exactly what they did.

To Read the story, click here.

Day 4 and 5 - Panther Band East Coast Tour - NYC, Arlington National Cemetery and Washington D.C.

This story was published in The Porterville Recorder on July 3, 2006
Photo by Esther Avila

PHS shines at Arlington
By Esther Avila, For The Porterville Recorder

ARLINGTON, Va. - It was all about patriotism and honor Sunday as the Porterville Panther Band continued to shine on its East Coast Tour as it performed at some of the countries' most historical sites. A morning performance at Arlington National Cemetery was followed by a patriotic concert on the lawn of the World War II Memorial in Washington, D.C.

To read more on this story, click here.

Day 3 - Panther Band East Coast Tour - NYC - Lincoln Center

After leaving Alice Tully Hall from a morning practice session, Britany Bethurum and Bryce Beatty strike a pose when they post a Panther Band poster outside the Lincoln Center announcing their concert. The band performed Friday night. (photo by Esther Avila)
(picture can be viewed here)
To read the story, click here.

Day 1 and 2 - Panther Band East Coast Tour - New York City

This story was published in The Porterville Recorder on June 30, 2006

PHS band members explore Times Square in New York City (photo by Esther Avila)

Panther Band members explore the Big Apple
By Esther Avila, for The Porterville Recorder

NEW YORK CITY -- The Porterville Panther Band members' first day of their East Coast tour came to a fun and successful ending with dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe and a night time tour of the Empire State Building Wednesday night.

To read more of this story, click here.

Off we go - Porterville Panthers head for the Big Apple

This story was published in The Porterville Recorder on June 24, 2006

Jaclyn McClung checks off a name Thursday as Thomas Eugene picks up his bright orange band shirt. To facilitate spotting band students, they will all be required to wear the shirt at the airports to and from New York. (photo by Esther Avila)

Panther band set for East Coast tour
By Esther Avila, for the Porterville Recorder

Students and parents crowded the Porterville Panther band room Thursday evening for some last minute instructions and details about their upcoming East Coast tour.

The band departs Tuesday at 11:30 p.m. for eight days packed with activities, including performances in New York City, Arlington National Cemetery, Washington D.C., and Fairfax, Virginia.

To read more of the story, click here.

New York City

I'll be gone until July 7 but will return with pictures and stories. :)
And, of course, if possible will log in while on the road to try to read any new story entries in the Clarity of Night short story contest.
Until then, take care and keep writing!

On a sidenote, I was looking through some photos from my NY trip in 1976 and found this one.... that's me in the blue shirt -- and look at the background -- I couldn't believe my eyes.
The Twin Towers are there!
(photo won't load - I'll try again soon)

New York Bound

I think I am finally getting excited about my upcoming trip to New York. I leave in four days! I haven't started packing yet and probably won't until Monday.

(By the way - I mentioned this on my AW site, for any of you regular readers) -- If you live in or near the New York area and would like to catch a wonderful "Salute to New York" concert by the Porterville Panther Band, email me and I can have the band director send you a couple of -- or how ever many you need -- tickets. The concert will be at 8 p.m. Friday, June 30 at Lincoln Center, New York City -- so LET me know!

Last night I attended a Panther Band meeting to go over all of the last minute instructions (and to write about it for the newspaper) I got to play with my new toy -- a Pentax SLR digital -- it set me back almost $1,000 but I figured it will really help with photos.

I have been taking more and more pictures for my newspaper stories and now that I am getting paid for them by two newspapers, I really can justify spending the money. It's an investment. That's what I keep telling myself. :)

I had fun playing with the camera. This is one of the photos -- taken from my front porch. I love the clarity of the detail around my neighborhood. I had not noticed the street sign until I saw the picture.

Triple Digits -- scorching hot temperatures

We had our electricity go out twice today -- which is not uncommon during our hot summer months. Living in the Central San Joaquin Valley, we hit triple digits quite often and when we do, we have blackouts and brownouts. Most last only a few hours but I do recall one that lasted a couple of days.

Today we hit 107. Tomorrow (Saturday) we should hit 109, and if so, will tie a record set in 1885 on this date with that temperature. Sunday's temps should reach 110! (all farenheit degrees)

I always enjoy seeing the huge thermometer in Baker, California (it is the entrance to Death Valley and is on my way to Las Vegas - a six hour drive from my home) The thing is made of 33 tons of steel, has 5,000 bulbs and is 134 feet high -- in honor of 134 degrees F -- the hottest temp ever recorded there, back in 1913.

The hottest temperatures I've experienced is 121 degrees farenheit -- Eagles Pass, Texas in 1968. I watched in horror as we stopped at a gasoline station for ice and witnessed a car pull up. An elderly lady was carried out. They laid her on the counter of the small store and started placing cold water cloths on her. I thought for sure she was dead. Three days later, the same thing almost happened to my sister. She ended up in an emergency room with IV fluids - she weighed only about 100 pounds and was totally dehydrated.

Summer can be quite harsh out here and several people die every year from it (dehydration mainly). I know it gets hot in Phoenix but somehow that's different because it's a dry heat.

What do you do on such hot days? We don't have a swimming pool but I do love to hit the mall, theater or the library on hot days. It keeps my own a/c down and I enjoy the cooler temperatures at someone else's expense. Sadly, it does not matter what we do, our electricity runs $500-600 a month during the summer. One month we were shocked with an $800-plus bill.

My babies (cats and dogs) are fine on such hot days. I bring them indoors. But if we aren't home, we have constant misters on all over the back yard. (cats always stay in)

My main concern is my mother and others like her. The elderly really suffer during these temps. I have to be extra careful with her.

Hot - Hot - Hot -- heat advisory says to stay indoors. I guess I'll have to do just that.

Midnight Road Short Fiction Contest

Back in April I entered the "Two Lights" contest on Jason Evans' The Clarity of Night. I really never imagined winning anything. I entered only because it sounded like fun. To be honest, I was kind of hoping and praying for an honorable mention.

Imagine my surprise when I read that I had won second place! I framed the photograph I won and keep it by my desk as an inspiration to keep writing. (I also won a nice gift certificate!) But I think what I enjoyed the most was reading the other entries.

Well, if you missed it, Jason is doing it again and I would recommend that anyone who loves to write, give it a shot and enter. Not because of the prizes (though he does have some cool ones) but because it is such fun.

As a result of the last contest, I've met some great people that I now consider "friends" in my cyber world. I really believe that everyone who enters comes out a winner for doing so -- especially if you return to read and comment on the other entries.

Jason has posted a new photo for our inspiration. Click here and you will go straight over to the contest on the The Clarity of Night.

Good luck to you all! I look forward to reading your entries.

Happy Father's Day

My father died shortly after my high school graduation. But I do have James. He is a wonderful father to our three daughters. I am very blessed. :)

Today started a little different. My little sister (Arizona) had a kitchen accident that resulted in second and third-degree burns to both of her hands. She said the skin peeled off. Her 6-year-old son called 911 and an ambulance took her to the hospital.

I immediately started planning a trip to see her. I could drive and be there in 8 hours. And, I planned on taking Jennifer. If necessary, she would stay there to help her (while I'm in New York) and then I would return and pick her up in a couple of weeks.

But as it turned out, things worked out for the better. Her right hand is fine. I was so thankful to God. (Though her left hand is badly burned and she requires a burn-specialist/plastic surgeon. We are still praying for a recovery since she has no movement whatsoever in that hand.)

Since I didn't take off to Arizona, I ended up making a delicious Mexican dinner for James -- fajitas, rice, beans. The rest of the evening we spent outdoors, working in the garden and trimming trees. I know that may not sound like much but I loved today. It was wonderful and the yard looks great.

And, except for my sister's little accident, today was almost a perfect day.

For those of you who may be dads out there - Happy Father's Day!

Don't ask why, don't ask how ... Love me now

"Until It is Time For You To Go" -- I had forgotten all about this song until Hans commented on it on my Hans post.

It is a song by Buffy Saint Marie. Hans sent it to me once, many years ago. I remember practically tearing apart the package that had arrived from Holland. Hans had told me of how he was driving one day and had heard the song on the radio -- the wording was so appropriate. It was almost as if Ms. Buffy was singing about us -- and we would enjoy what we had until it was time to go. I could not find the song here in the United States, so he bought me the CD and sent it to me.

I listened to the song and it touched me too. The voice was different - almost mesmerizing in its own way -- but I think it was the words that really got me.

I called my best friend at the time -- Liz.
She came over later and she listened to it with tears.

"That is so beautiful," she said. "It's so sad but so beautiful."

The words drifted through the room as we sat there speechless on the bed, listening to the song again and again...

I'm not a king I'm not a saint I'm a man
You're not a queen you're a woman take my hand
We'll make a space in the lives that we planned
And here we'll stay until it's time for you to go

Don't ask why don't ask how
Don't ask forever love me now

This love of mine had no beginning it has no end
I was an oak now I'm a willow now I can bend
And though I'll never in my life see you again
Still I'll stay until it's time for you to go

Don't ask why of me don't ask how of me
Don't ask forever of me love me love me now

I'm not a king I'm not a saint...

"What does all this mean?" I had asked Liz, even though I pretty much knew.

"Don't ask why or how -- just enjoy it until it is time for it to be no more," she answered.

As it turned out, that time came faster than I anticipated. Our time was not long. I did meet my Hans in Holland a few months later, it was sweet, but it did not last. I didn't expect it to. We lived worlds apart - literally. We were also totally different. Even if I wanted to, I could not be a part of his world - it was too different, too wild, too "wrong."

I am glad we met and I never did anything I regretted. But it was time to go.

Now, I can't help but think of how many times couples are faced with similar moments.

Should they just enjoy each other until it is time to go? Or should there be something deeper? Just how much commitment should be expected and when?

Or is it ok sometimes to just enjoy something until it is no more?

I believed in forever once upon a time - but no more. Maybe some day, that will change again.

And though I'll never in my life see you again
Still I'll stay until it's time for you to go

Don't ask why of me don't ask how of me
Don't ask forever of me love me love me now

The day my daughter almost died

After checking with my daughter, she gave me the go-ahead to write about this. Here she is the day she was finally leaving the hospital.

I watched my teen daughter set out for the pool today. She looked beautiful. Then I noticed the large scar across her abdomen and my heart ached as I remembered the day she almost died - the day my stupidity almost killed her.

It all started on a Wednesday. My daughter came home from school saying she didn’t feel well. She had a fever so I gave her some Tylenol and put her to bed.

By Thursday, she seemed better but I could tell she still did not feel 100-percent. Any other mother might have kept her home. But she had perfect attendance and she asked to be allowed to go to school. I gave in, handed her my cell phone, and asked her to call me if she felt worse.

December 2003 -- a horrible flu epidemic had hit our nation. Emergency rooms were full of sick children. Local newspapers addressed the issue of crowded emergency rooms and long waits – many patients were taking up time, space and beds that were normally allotted for more serious conditions.

Why do people run to the emergency room with every little runny nose and cough, I wondered. As a former E.R. nurse, I saw plenty of cases where a child could benefit with a little Tylenol and rest. In many cases, the visit to the emergency department was not necessary. Of course, I never advised anyone against coming in. "Bring the child in," I would always say.

Sadly, I did not take my own advice. Since I never rush into the emergency room for every little ache or pain, I saw no need to take her in.

Sure enough, the school nurse called me. She told me she had sent several kids home that day with the flu and it looked like Catherine had the same thing.

Friday, my daughter got up and tried to go to school. This time I said no. She didn’t argue with me and went back to bed. Later, I heard her crying out, asking me to help her. I sat up with her, gave her Tylenol, and each time, she'd settle back down. She was not experiencing lower, right-quadrant pain, so I did not believe it was appendicitis. With so many people having the same general stomach-discomfort symptoms, we had no reason to believe it was anything else.

My daughter had a rough night and moaned softly off and on in pain during the night. Each time, warm towels to her abdomen calmed her. She fell asleep. I wanted to take her to the emergency room but her father insisted she was fine and refused to let me take her.

Then came Saturday. 5 a.m. I awoke to loud cries of pain. I rushed to her room and found her in severe agony, almost screaming. She was weak and burning with a fever of 105 degrees. She was pale and turning listless between the cries. I yelled at her father to get out of my way, that If I had to pick her up myself, I was taking her to the hospital.

He physically scooped her up and we rushed the three blocks to the emergency department. Shortly after arriving, she was calm again and sleeping.

Two hours and many tests later, the doctor informed us that it did not look like appendicitis, but she did need to be admitted for observation. But the hospital was full and they said they would keep her in the emergency room until a bed was free -- approximately an additional four hours.

She was slightly medicated and she slept peacefully. She was in good hands, so I stepped out to check on our other two children while her father stayed with her.

I also had a story assigned that day and I was going to Porterville to cover the Zonta Club Christmas Home Tour. I planned on being back by 2 p.m. Everything was under control.

But I didn't get very far. Before I reached the freeway, I got the call no mother ever wants to hear.

“Something’s gone wrong. They want to transfer her to Children’s Hospital,” James said. “Hurry and get back. She's not doing good -- they’ve already called the ambulance.”

How could that be? She was asleep when I left. I rushed to the hospital, hoping to beat the ambulance so that I may ride with her. But there was more bad news -- and all I can remember is hearing something about a "possible code blue" en route if they tried to take her. The doctor called us aside. The transfer had been cancelled. My daughter was drifting in and out of consciousness by now and it was too risky to transport her. There was a possibility that she would not make it to Fresno without coding. (her heart could stop) The doctor said she had no idea what was wrong with her but they needed to take her for emergency exploratory surgery.

I broke down.

What had I done? Why did I wait? Why? Why? Why? I had so many questions, but there was no time for answers.

And just like that, I kissed my little girl as they literally ran the gurney down the hall towards emergency surgery as paper after paper was placed before us to sign.

“It shouldn’t take more than two to three hours,” the surgeon told us as she rushed off.

We waited, hour after hour after hour, in a small waiting room. Every few minutes another family member arrived until the room was packed with praying family members.

Four hours went by...then five hours. "The doctor said two to three hours," I cried. "What is happening?"

Six hours later, the doctor walked in.

Her appendix had burst – perhaps as much as 24 hours prior to surgery. Complications had developed and a long hospital stay was eminent. Because of the severity of the contamination, she could not be stitched close and she had an opening the size of a baseball on her abdomen.

“It was a mess in there,” the doctor said. “She gave us quite a scare. We almost lost her.”

It turned out my daughter did code (cardiovascular arrest / her heart stopped) on the operating table. She was resuscitated. Only by the love and grace of God, did she live.

I stayed by her side – never sleeping for more than four hours a night. But I didn’t care. All I knew was that I almost killed my daughter. I was beating myself up with that thought and prayed for forgiveness -- and prayed for my baby - day and night.

I did not go home for more than two weeks. I slept at the hospital, got up, showered, dressed and I'd leave for work at the newspaper. I'm not even sure anyone at work really knew what I was going through. I would have loved to have taken the time off but we were understaffed. I had only been working at the newspaper for three months and since I was new, I did not feel I had the right to ask for the time off. What can I say? I was stupid.

Day after day, I'd rush to work, write two or three stories as fast as I could and rush back to the hospital. I'd pray and sometimes cry during my commute. I really had no business working.

In the meantime, my daughter lay unconscious. She never opened her eyes and seemed to be in a distant place.

But, God is good. And on day five, we saw a miracle.

My little girl suddenly woke up, looked around, and asked where she was. I was happy I happened to be there when it happened. We laughed and we cried.

She had no recollection of the pain, no recollection of the last five days. No recollection of the surgery. And, after not eating any food for eight days, she announced she was hungry.

My daughter was also surprised to find the numerous tubes that attached her body to the wall and to machines. She looked at her large abdominal bandages and puzzled, looked up at me and asked, “What happened?”

I turned away for a brief moment so that she would not see my tears - or my guilt.

What could I say? That I thought she had the flu? That even after realizing how serious it was, I hadn't taken her to get medical help? That my delay in obtaining medical intervention almost cost us her life?

“Hi baby,” I whispered to her as I brushed a wisp of hair away from her face. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

After being hospitalized for 15 days, we brought her home -- two days before Christmas.
At first her pediatrician was recommending an additional week in the hospital -- but since her father and I are both in the medical field, and we live down the street from the hospital -- they let us take her home. We just wanted her home for Christmas. Plus, they were not doing anything that we couldn't do.
My daughter missed an additional month of school. But she still amazed us. She made up all of her school work and still graduated at the top of her class - valedictorian of her school. She's definitely another miracle child. I remember rushing out Christmas Eve to get a tree. We had a lot to be thankful for that year.

3-Gun Volley Salute, Taps and an unforgettable funeral

(photo by John Tipton / The Porterville Recorder)

I attended Jacqueline's and Alex's funeral today. It was beautiful and heart breaking.

I was surprised to see that they were both buried together -- in the same coffin, which was draped with two American flags.

I had heard of this kind of thing only once but it was a mother and young infant. But, apparently the two youngsters were burned to death . The car exploded in flames after the accident and it was almost impossible to tell who was who.

Sunday night's service had more than 1,000 people there -- many of them were high school kids. Jacqueline and Alex were both active in sports at Monache High and she was also a cheerleader there. She was so full of life and so outgoing!

There was plenty of representation from the U.S. Navy and the U.S. Marines and they had full military honors -- complete with a 3-gun volley salute.

Taps always gets to me. It gave me chills as they played it.

As the service ended, 17 white helium-filled balloons (she was 17) and 21 red ones (his age) were let go and the Chaplain announced that the service had concluded. One of the mothers started wailing loudly for her baby. It was a very touching and emotional moment.

Such a sad day for the families and friends of Alex and Jacqueline. My heart goes out to them.

Shattered Dreams - Broken Hearts

I can't even begin to imagine what a mother from church is feeling right now. I don't ever want to know. Our entire church is in mourning.

A sweet, sweet girl - age 17 - was to graduate from high school yesterday. She was engaged to be married to a great guy who graduated a couple of years ago. He was in the Marines and she had enrolled in the U.S. Navy. They had their entire lives ahead of them - or so we thought.

He was in town for her graduation and both were killed four days before the graduation (on Memorial Day) in a most unfortunate fiery car accident.

Monache High's graduation last night (I was not present but heard) was touching. All of her classmates cried for her. Both had been quite involved in MHS sports. She was also a MHS cheerleader.

The church is crying too. Yes, we know that being absent from the body is to be present with the Lord -- but that does not make the pain any less. Comforting, yes. Less painful, no.

My heart breaks for her mother. It is always painful to lose a child but to lose a child who is about to graduate ... after you have seen that child excel.... I have no words. Only sadness and shock right now.

My youngest daughter, Jennifer, graduates from middle school next week.

I watched her sleep this morning and gently touched her cheek. I am so thankful for my children and wish that I could protect them always.

This tragedy reminds me again that life is precious.

Rest in peace, Jacqueline and Alex. God bless your sweet souls.