Sometimes Life Gets You Down

I am down tonight, it has been building for weeks but tonight I feel it intensely. It is a combination of many things. 

The first week in November, the 17 year old son of a close friend died in a drowning accident. 

He was a bright, kind, and joyful child.  In his obituary his parents wrote;

“He will be remembered for his unmitigated joyfulness, his natural curiosity, and his wholehearted enthusiasm. He lived fully. In his seventeen years of life, he traveled extensively and visited many places including Belize, the Galapagos Islands, Fiji, New Zealand, and Samoa. He enjoyed exploring and experiencing the world… He loved camping and felt at home sleeping under the stars. He could be found cooking homemade meals for his family, teaching himself to play the piano, or gaming with friends. He did not squander his life. He stepped into it with a big smile and his wonderful curly hair, awake and wholehearted.”

No doubt many have heard, “No parent should ever have to bury their child.” It is true.

Secondly, my son who has been battling IBD and autoimmune pancreatitis for 14 years has been in the hospital for a month. He came home today, but he is not well. 

He was equally a charming child. He had a magical childhood as well. He traveled the world with us. He raised chickens (they were his pets), then he became interested in aquaculture. He formed a website for the reef community at 14, he started a computer cloud company at 20. He had a bright and promising future when IBD reared its ugly head. At 22, his colon perforated while he was in the hospital. He was bleeding internally. After 3 surgeries and 8 weeks in hospital he came home. A year later he nearly bled to death after a scope procedure and biopsy.  Then year after year it seems the problems just piled on. 

Today he is on a lot of medication, he’s in a lot of pain, and it seems the medical community has given up on helping him. It’s incredibly sad when you have to fight a disease and you have to fight the medical community too. 

I have prayed so many prayers for my son. The other day I pleaded with God, I asked, what is the answer? Is there anybody that can help him? So far the answers have not come. 

Added to this, I got a call this morning that my cousin died. I just saw her in September. She was five years older than me in the last 15 or so years we reconnected and became closer.  She was beautiful, she was intelligent, loving and kind.  

She was a RN and with continuing education, got her masters degree. She worked for years at the VA hospital in Albuquerque as a counselor.

Sadly, several years ago, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and declined very quickly. 

When I saw her in September, she was unable to carry on a conversation. When I arrived, she looked up at me and smiled. I said to her, “Hi Debbie, it’s your cousin, Trish”  She looks straight at me and replied, “I know.”  That was the most comprehendible conversation we had that day. 

I asked her to take a picture before I left. I held up the phone and smiled to take a selfie.  She leaned her head over to touch mine and shut her eyes.

I am forever grateful for the visit that day. When I got home in Washington, I reflected on my visit with her. I felt she would grieve if she understood, she would not want to live that way.  I told my husband I never want to live that way.  Just existing with all dignity and autonomy lost. 

Finally, it is winter. It is dark, dreary and cold outside. I feel dark, dreary and cold inside.  

A slowly brewing state of grief, downheartedness, and sorrow in my soul. 

Praying this season in my soul passes quickly. When winter is over I pray I will see and feel the new hope of spring. 

Deborah Ruth – Rest in Peace

Gratitude

GRATITUDE: “If you concentrate on finding whatever is good in every situation, you will discover that your life will suddenly be filled with gratitude, a feeling that nurtures the soul.” — Rabbi Harold Kushner
Looking back through the history of just my life, I am wondering if I can find good in every situation? This is a tall order. It cannot be done with my own power but only by endeavoring to see it through the lens of God’s eyes.
Yes, there were hardships and obstacles that dominated my youth but they helped form who I am today. In many ways I think those experiences help me look at others who struggle with a compassionate heart and less of a judging mindset.
In the bigger picture of things I AM SO BLESSED. I really have nothing to complain about, yet I do complain. Praying my grumbles are be at a minimum today.

Giving Thanks

Thankful Monday #1: With the deepest love and gratitude, one person I am eternally thankful to is Chris. First and foremost, for loving me and my sons; for providing stability, for his hard work, for his generosity to others, for his optimism that never seems to fade, for loving me even when I was unlovable and never giving me reason to doubt that love. His love has helped me to trust again and not fear rejection or loss.

More importantly, everyday I thank God for the big things and the small things in life. I thank him for provision, for showing me again and again that He is ever present. I thank him for the blue sky, for the peacefulness and beauty after the snow, for the multitude of flowers, for the people He has put on my path to help through this journey.

He arranged reconnections that brought parts of my family back together and chance meetings of friends in the most unlikely places. I thank him for the basics of life, food, shelter, friends. I thank Him that even though I toss and turn in my doubts, He never has given up on me.

“Thankful that in this ever changing world there are some things that remain the same and bring balance to my life. Day and night rise and fall; the seasons change, sunshine comes after rain, young people still fall in love, children are born and the old pass away. There is a rhythm and flow to life that encourages me to tune out the noise and remind myself I am not in control of these things but a never changing God is and He never forgets to take care of the details.” ~ Me 11/ 15/ 2021

Photo Credit: Megan Watson at UnSplash

How British Charm Won My Heart: A Love Story

Today is officially mine and Chris’s 41st anniversary. Honestly, I cannot comprehend how time has flown by so quickly. When we were first married there were people making bets that it wouldn’t last a year. Well, we just had to prove them wrong! Tovah Feldshuh, American actress, singer and playwright gave this advice on marriage, “You know how to have a successful marriage? Shut one eye, and don’t leave. Some of it’s fun and some of it isn’t. It can be challenging, but you do not leave the field of play.” We are still on the field and here is the rest of the story.

I met Chris at work in August 1982. I was going through a divorce and started a new job at International Ground Support Systems in Denver. They did underground engineering consulting. It was a small company with three engineers, a welder, and two laborers. Chris was one of the engineers and when I started, he was working on a job in Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia. He would check into the office daily, so we really met over the phone first. He, as anyone that knows him appreciates, is very out going and friendly and he has a great British accent. So naturally, I was instantly curious about this guy.

I had worked there about a month when Chris returned from Canada. The business was in a large metal warehouse and the front part was in a sectioned off into offices. I was in a small cubicle near the door with big windows to the outside and a small reception window inside. The first time I saw him, he came bounding through the front doors. He stopped at the reception window and poked his head through to introduce himself. He looked like he had been on an all night binge. He was disheveled, his clothes were wrinkled and when he smiled it revealed two missing teeth. NOT A ALL HOW I IMAGINED HIM! After he left I thought …hmm, maybe we could be good friends.

I don’t know exactly when my perception changed, but his charm did win me over. I know we were a couple by Thanksgiving because we had a big dinner at his house. There was a small issue though, and it was that technically, Chris was still married.

His English wife had left and gone back to England three years prior when he moved from Virginia to Denver. They had not been in contact for quite a while. Chris wanted to get married but had to locate her and somehow negotiate a long-distance divorce.

I still tease him because at one point he suggested we just get married because no one would know or care. Obviously this was before the internet and everyone’s personal life can be researched worldwide. I politely declined. I told him I did not want someone coming twenty years later and claiming everything and besides that was just wrong and downright illegal!

It did take a while but we were married a year later. I have to say that British charm and accent has opened many doors for Chris. When Josh was little he’d go to the store with Chris and come back to tell me that the lady at the store was flirting with daddy. He’d relate that the lady would say, “Ohhh… I do love your accent.” Seriously, it still happens all the time!

Yeah, the accent and charm may have drawn me in to start with but it is his intelligence, later his faith, his love and the care he gave to me and my kids, his generosity and his passion for helping others that has kept me in love with him. All those physical things I judged him by at first where just temporary surface distractions. Chris has been a loving and devoted husband and we have stayed faithful through the good times and the bad.

My most treasured Valentine card from him wasn’t a card at all but a letter that ends this way…

The link below is from 15 years ago about on my thoughts on marriage.
https://emyloomwordswovenwithinmyheart.com/2009/10/08/marriage/

[1] Lyrics from Bruce Springsteen song . “If I Should Fall Behind”

Labor Day Reflection on Fifty-two Years as an American Worker

Per the US Department of Labor, “Labor Day is an annual celebration of the social and economic achievements of American workers.”

I have been an American worker since 1972. I started at 16 and have had 13 jobs over 52 years.

I started with Pixie Preschool in Tampa, Florida in 1972. It was about 2 miles from where I lived. I rode my bike to work with my son Adam in a child seat on the handlebars. My boss was Jacque. She was a single mom with two children. I admired her so much and I learned a lot from her. I learned how to create economical nutritious meals, housekeeping shortcuts, and many tips on childcare. That job, my first, ended a year later when I moved from Tampa, Florida to Alaska.

It was 1974. I was a stay at home mom with a new baby so I worked providing childcare in my home. Believe me it was a “real job.” It was a constant struggle to keep the house clean. For 9 hours a day I had five kids instead of two. Meals, games, changing diapers, and keeping the peace there was never a quiet moment.

The next year, my friend Mary recommended me for a job at the credit bureau in Anchorage. I had absolutely no office experience and I could not type, but I started by answering phones and filing. It was a busy place processing credit requests. All information was in card files (no computers). Stores and other credit extenders would send paper reports on customers. These reports were filed under each person’s name. We had huge racks of card files. I really enjoyed working here, I was out in the “world” with other women and I liked it. After a year, Mary left Alaska and a few months later I did too.

Next stop was Texas. There I got a job at the Montgomery Ward catalog store in a small town, Fairfield. The couple, who owned the franchise, Jay and Mary Helen, were very sweet older couple. Mary Helen taught me a lot about ordering, organizing and customer service.

It was a low-key family type of atmosphere. Every day she would bring tomatoes in from her garden and we’d make a big salad for lunch.  Those salads were so fabulous. No dressing, just the juice from the tomatoes. No tomato since then has ever matched their flavor.  I left there after about 6 months. I lived in Korea for another six months and then moved to Denver.

In Denver, I got a job at the Montgomery Ward catalog store there. It was not quite the same experience as the one in a small town. People complained about everything. After one awful Christmas season there, I quit.

My next “career” move was to a Citibank credit processing center. Most of the jobs I have had, I either stumbled into them or a friend referred me. Citibank was located in the new Denver Tech Center. Someone I knew worked for the company that had the security contract there. He heard Citibank was hiring, so I applied. I think my short stint at the Anchorage credit bureau helped land this job. Here I verified credit applications, processed payments and later, I punched credit cards.

As part of my job I operated an Address-o-graph 6400 Graphotype machine. It was this big clunky over-grown typewriter/punch machine that embossed credit cards. Yes, I in my life have made thousands of credit cards. One card at a time was placed in the machine, the number and name were typed to emboss it and then the card moved across gold foil ribbon to make those embossed numbers shine. That machine would break down daily; it was old machine in 1980. For such a big company, I was surprised they still used this old clunker. I was always clearing jams and straightening the ribbons. Due to this, over the years I became known as the person in the office that had a knack for “fixing things.”

While working there, I received a call from a man who was processing my application for a home loan. He called to go over my credit details and then offered me a job. He offered more money and an opportunity for growth. He was quite a salesman. He told me how he and his wife started this really successful credit agency. They processed mortgage applications. Lots of promises and hype… way over sold. He was the first of several charlatans I encountered and this was my first, worst job move! It was an extremely toxic environment. On top of that, it was so far from where I lived. I had to make an hour bus ride each way. I left after only a few months.

Shortly after, I found a job as a receptionist in a large dental office.  Just as with other jobs, I knew someone who knew someone there. I had some experience because I had previously volunteered with the Red Cross at the dental office on the Air Force base. I started as a receptionist and moved to processing insurance claims. It was a good job but man; there was a lot of hanky-panky going around.  I left there when another smooth talking charlatan sold me on coming to work at his dental lab.

I don’t even want to say this guy’s name. The company was Artisan Dental Arts, this place I would classify as the worst job I ever had. I was an administrative assistant here, placed orders, paid bills and other general office duties. I worked there almost 2 years. The owner was a crook in so many ways I cannot even list them all. He would falsify bank records and tax returns to defraud people. He would buy into businesses, and steal from unsuspecting owners. He never paid the employee withholding taxes and would constantly skim money out of the business. When the IRS caught up with him he blamed the staff. One day I reached my breaking point and just walked out.

Afterwards, I had ongoing anxiety about what he might do to harm me. I worried he might plant drugs in my car or leave a dead animal on my doorstep. It was that bad. It was long past time to go. I have so many wild tales about that place, but that is for another story. In the midst of all the craziness at the dental lab, I was also going through a divorce. This only amplified the issues.

In very short order, a friend told me of a job at an engineering company, International Ground Support Systems, IGSS.  I was hired as the secretary/receptionist. The best thing about this job is that this is where I met my husband Chris. When I started to work there he was working on a tunnel in Nova Scotia. We became telephone friends long before we ever met. We both left this job when the owner was having family issues that played over into the workplace.

A friend of a friend at IGSS, told me about a job working with a lobbyist at Sun Oil Company.  There I became a legislative assistant… not bad for a high school dropout. I worked for a lobbyist named Ed. He covered the Rocky Mountain region and was often on the road. He would call me with a list of state bills that affected the industry. I would order them, write a summary and send them to the DC office. This was done with the old fax machines that scanned back and forth on thermal paper via a phone line. No internet back then.

In 1983, Chris got a job in Seattle and we moved north. In Seattle, the first job I had (not counting the temp job where I lasted until lunch and left crying) was at Dateline Technology. I’ve written about Dateline as the best job I ever had. In short, it was a company that sold Prime and Wang computer storage systems. I was the secretary, receptionist, travel arranger and later the bookkeeper. When I started, there was me and seven guys. They affectionately called me the “den mother.” It has been over 40 years and I am still in contact with four of them. I worked there a little over four years but with success came growing pains. The owners were in negotiations to sell the company. Just before the sale, I received a call with a job offer.

The call was from Ed, the lobbyist who I worked for at Sun Oil Company. It was the mid-80’s and the oil business had taken a downturn. Sun Oil had closed the regional office in Denver. Ed had taken a job with the Tobacco Institute and was moving to Washington.  He contacted me and asked me to come back to work for him. In the 80’s many tobacco companies had acquired food companies. Among those were Kraft, General Food and Nabisco and Ed thought he would be lobbying in this industry. Sadly that was not the case. After only a few months, he found it very difficult to defend the tobacco industry and left.

I stayed on a couple years because of the great benefits they offered. These benefits included a very generous maternity benefit. I managed to go through in vitro fertilization because of health insurance, and became pregnant with Josh. Their policy was that if you notified them that you were not going to return to work after giving birth, they would provide six months severance pay. I took advantage of that early on as I really wasn’t feeling well, and I did not plan on returning.

After a few months I was feeling better and a friend told me her boss was looking for an administrative assistant. The company, RepSac, was a computer consulting firm and I took the job. I worked there until Josh was born and continued to work on projects from home afterwards until 1990.

Lastly, for the past 33 years I have worked for Chris at SubTerra. I do a little bit of everything, bookkeeping, receptionist, travel arranger, decorator, office machine repair person, events manager and janitor. There have been times I have walked out, but the boss has always talked me back. I imagine this is the last job I will ever have and hopefully can retirement is in the future. I am staying as long as Chris does and he has no plans for stopping anytime soon.

My social security account shows that I worked every year since 1972. The only two exception was the time in 1974 when I did childcare and the early years of SubTerra when I worked but did not get paid.

When I look back over the years I see every job brought its own lessons and rewards. Every change was a step up and an opportunity to learn and grow. Considering my humble and rough start, I am amazed at where I am today.

SubTerra: A 33 Year Synopsis

In 1991 Chris was working in Germany for a Redmond, WA based geotechnical company. He was transferred there to open and manage two new companies in Celle just south of Hamburg and in Claustal-Zellerfeld in the Harz Mountains.

When he left early in the year, we had a one year old son and a son just finishing his Junior year in High school. The plan was he would go, get things started, check out high schools and look for a place to live. I stayed behind while we put the house on the market and took care of organizing on this end.

Long story short, the company kept stalling on finalizing the move of our family and after a year of being apart the ultimatum was given ….. move my family here or… “or” won. So he said goodbye to folks in Germany and drove from Germany to London where he caught a flight home.

After successfully starting businesses for someone else in a foreign country, Chris decided to start a company for himself, be his own boss and in charge of his own destiny. His selling point to me was, “Worst case scenario, if it doesn’t work we’ll spend all our savings, and I’ll go out and get another job.”

With that SubTerra was incorporated on August 7, 1991 in our Redmond home. We chose our logo from an old photograph Chris had of the lighthouse at Beachy Head in England near where he grew up. Initially work came at a coal mine near Steamboat Springs, CO; at Yucca Mountain, NV with the nuclear waste disposal program; and abandoned mine reclamation and tunnel design work in WA state. SubTerra Engineering was started in the UK in 1992.

Josh and I travelled with him as he worked around the country, to Colorado, Nevada, Texas, Utah and overseas to the UK and Germany.  

In 1995, we purchased a brick house in Kirkland across from Lake Washington where we went through the permitting process and renovations to convert it to an office. We hired an engineer, a geologist and a receptionist. Work for them was closer to home around Washington permitting local gravel pits and mining operations. Chris continued to work all around the country and abroad.

In 1999 we became a dealer for Instantel, a Canadian company that manufactured and sold seismographs for blast monitoring and construction vibrations. We hired another engineer and a technician who worked in the field monitoring at local mines and construction sites. 

After several years in Kirkland we moved our offices out of Kirkland to a less crowded location. While we looked for a new permanent home we leased office space in the Preston Office Park just off I90 east of the city. By now we had two engineers, two geologist, two drafters and a receptionist/secretary. Joining this group was our old friend Howard Handewith who had retired from the Robbins Company. He worked part-time on tunnel projects in Singapore and on the Boston Outfall Tunnel project.

In 2000, just 9 years after incorporating we purchased a building in down town North Bend which became our permanent home. The building was built in 1950 and we spent 6 months renovating it and moved in permanently in March of 2001.

Since then North Bend has been our home base. Through all the up and downs of the past thirty-three years, we have seen blessings and trials, when the economy was slow just the right amount of work would walk through the door.  In 2009 Chris began pursuing his passion of helping to advance a tunnel/water conduit to revive the Dead Sea project, this lead to opening SubT Engineers in Israel in 2014. 

SubT Engineers has completed tunnel projects in Tel Aviv (Subway Redline), in Jerusalem (rock tunnels and blasting), and at other locations in Israel.  SubT Engineers is the Licensed Engineer for the KoHav Ha Yarden Pumped Storage project adjacent to the Kinneret / Sea of Galilee and are currently working at Israel’s first Pumped storage Project located at Maale Gilboa (the Heights of Gilboa). 

SubTerra, Inc. has now completed over 1,000 projects involving blast consulting, mining rock mechanics, shaft, tunnel and microtunnel design, geotechnical instrumentation, vibration monitoring and expert services for hundreds of clients.  We work for owners, contractors, large engineering companies and Federal, State and local municipalities.

Chris continues to travel for work across the US, Europe, UK, The Republic of Georgia, Israel, and Canada.  Chris and I have otherwise worked together in this adventure sitting about 20-ft apart for these 33 years.

He is well past the “normal” retirement age but continues his work.  He is tireless, positive, sharp and always looking ahead. In addition to his hard work ethic, he serves on the board for a local organization that seeks to aid those in need of assistance and housing.

So after 33 years, we are working with a smaller crew but still working on large projects with other companies. We may have spent all our savings to get started, but this dream Chris had of working for himself, being his own boss, resulted in a successful small business that has done many  great things around the world.

A Magnificent Vessel

My womb
A Beautiful form
Like a Greek amphora vessel
With her thin graceful arms
She reaches out to hold
Delicate capsules
Embracing millions of treasures

Precious pearls
Released one by one
Month by month
Year after year
Nearly 40
Each pearl holding
The possibility of new life

This womb
Like the cycles of the moon
Prepared to receive a life
And then time and time again
In disappointment
She shed away the nourishing nest
Only to revive it again

She became the cradle
That caressed the tiny bodies
Of my three sons
She was the warm capsule
Where they were formed
From a single cell
Unseen by the world

My womb was a life giver
She is the essence
Of my feminine
She distinguishes me
As a woman
Present at my birth
This vessel that produced life

She came to life in my youth
And faded away in my old age
We endured the change with grace
Though there were days
That I cursed her
I was in awe of her ability
The miracles she brought

Today she became
My adversary
Within her walls
Grows not life but
An enemy
One that would try
To destroy me

Now I must release
This beautiful friend
She has given me
So much
Soon
I will say goodbye
I will grieve for her

They say she’s old
She no longer fulfills
A purpose
Even if that is so
I cannot toss her aside
As nothing more than tissue
Medical waste

She is more
She has been
The mystery within me
Magical
Wondrous
A masterpiece of God’s creation
Divine by Design

My heart
Is full of sorrow
I don’t want her to leave
But it is time
I am forever grateful
For all the gifts
From this Magnificent Vessel

2024 Trish B ©

Facing Inflammatory Bowel Disease: My Son’s 11-Year Battle

The post below from 11 years ago came up today on my Facebook page. It serves to remind me of a most desperate time in our family’s lives when our youngest son was facing serious health issues caused by Inflammatory Bowel Disease. This was only the first of life threatening events he would face over the next 11 years. Almost one year later to the date he nearly bled to death after a procedure where an arterial vein was accidentally clipped.

My heart begins to beat faster as I read my thoughts from 2013 and I relive the horror of those days. How could someone so young, become so ill, so quickly? It is IBD, and the myriad of other complications and chronic health conditions that sometimes accompany it, and tragically IBD has no cure.

For my son, it is accompanied by auto-immune pancreatitis, which has led to diabetes; the steroids that he has been given over the years to control inflammation have led to bone deterioration; the five different immune suppressing drugs he has worked his way through can all have horrible side effects including cancer. Three of these drugs proved ineffective, one he had an extreme allergic reaction to and we are praying the current one will show some effectiveness.

Eleven years, and sometimes I still think that “from this side it looks like nothing is happening”… He has been hospitalized annually for months at time, with bowel obstructions, bleeding, inflammation, pancreatitis, and sepsis. I have worried, fretted, prayed and pleaded with God. Some days I think he has closed his ears to my prayers.

I think those things, but I don’t believe they are true. I remember examples in the bible of men, men like David, Job and Paul, all men whom God loved and men who honored and loved God; yet they still suffered. Even, after all these years, I still believe God is in control and he has a plan for my son’s life.

May 19 was World IBD Day. It is a day set aside to bring awareness about IBD and to support the 10 million people worldwide that live with this disease. I will continue to pray. I pray for a cure. A cure so no one has to suffer any longer.

A Path Beyond Worldly Careers


I
may not
have a
career
in the eyes
of the world;
but I feel my
life has touched others
in
a positive way.
I don’t
have the need to prove myself
to the entire world to show
my life has value.
My goals
and aspirations were sacrificed because
of circumstances beyond my control
and poor choices made while
I was still a
child.
I believe
I was given an
above average intelligence
by my Maker,
and I have benefited from it
many times.
I have nothing
to boast about for my mothering;
I’ve made many errors which I
often wish I could change.
I don’t want
to look at what
I could have been,
but at who
I am now;
I am thankful
for the life God has given me.
If my role in life
from the world’s
point-of-view is
that of a
peon,
then I am even more
amazed at the wonders
of
GOD.
My life
may not change history,
but if I try everyday to live It
more like God wants,
if I can show a
little kindness to someone
and help others,
I know God will
remember me when
my life is
over.
This world
offers no rewards…
careers in this world
are only
temporary…
I want
to spend the rest of my life
working at a career
which would exemplify Christ’s life
My failure
at a worldly career
is of no consequence to me;
my career success
is
yet to be
determined.

1987 Redmond, WA

Fifty Year Celebrations

Someone ask me recently about who I attended the prom with. As I never went a day of high school, it is an obvious assumption I never went to a prom. I would have graduated in 1974 but left school in March 1970. Up until that point I was a straight A student and really without a lot of effort.

In addition, I have never attended any type of ball or fancy occasion. I have never had an evening gown or even a fancy party dress. I guess I’d have to go on a cruise to need a fancy dress, but you are never going to catch me on a cruise ship either!

So, back to the prom. I contacted one of my childhood friends, who I would have graduated with, to inquire about when the prom was held for the Conroe Tigers class of 1974. Interestingly enough, she told me her and her husband did not go, something about it being too foo-foo. However, she sent out a request on social media and found that prom night was April 27, 1974.

Where was I? I was in Anchorage, Alaska at Elmendorf Air Force Base and I had a 9-day old newborn son. Aaron Kelly was born on Thursday morning, April 18, 1974. Back then was still at a time when we did not know the sex of our babes beforehand. I really, really wanted a daughter and for the slightest moment after he was born, I was maybe a little disappointed but that quickly faded when I held that fair haired infant in my arms.

In May, the class of 1974 will be celebrating 50 years since their graduation but next week, I will help my son, one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received, celebrate his 50th birthday.

I was only 18 when this very special gift entered my world. Since that first day, he has been a blessing and joy in my life. He has always brought joy to my heart, made me smile, made me proud, made me know I was loved. He served his country and he served over 22 years as a police officer. During that time he saved many lives, rescued abducted teens, sought justice for the elderly and abused, and helped people on one of the worst days of their lives. One day, I believe he will see the results of all the good he did. Although there is no thanks sometimes in this world, my hope is that in the end God will show him all the fruits of his actions. I hope to be there to see them too.

I never experienced the traditional high school teen events and I don’t have a 50th Class Reunion to attend but I am not feeling deprived, I was blessed with a gift that never stopped giving.

I love him and he loves me and that’s the way it will always be.

To Muffet with Love

Thanks to the internet and social media apps like Classmates and Facebook I have reconnected with several school friends.  I cannot really say from high school because I never went a day of high school, but I had a few childhood friends that remained in my heart.

The first person I reconnected with was Pattie. In 2006, she was my birthday present as Chris paid for a trip for her to come visit me in Seattle.  We rediscovered each other in a whole new light, through adult eyes and not those of a child.  

Pattie and I only had a few years to reconnect when sadly she left this earth much too soon. I was heartbroken and shocked… the one friend I had contact with from my broken ugly childhood was gone.

At that time I had been on Classmates for 10 years. In all that time I never heard from anyone, and then the day after I learned that Pattie had died, I got a message.

The next day! I was flooded with love, that someone would remember ME and reach out to ME because I always felt I longed to be friends with others, more than anyone wanted to be friends with ME.  

This message was from Muffet.  Growing up, she lived in Sunset Ridge a development of brick homes off Hwy 75 outside of Conroe. I lived across the highway in a older wooden house, a house where the walls in my room were not finished and just open studs. Visiting Muffet’s house was like a fantasy experience. She had beautiful white carpet in her bedroom and I would take off my shoes and wriggle my toes in the fibers; her room was a princess-land.

Muffet had beautiful long hair that her mother would braid and roll around in a bun on top of her head. She looked angelic or like she should be picking flowers somewhere in the Swiss Alps. She was lovely inside and out.

Beyond material things, Muffet was a kind, sweet friend that accepted me, this strange girl who was a square peg in a world of round holes.

After that initial note, we began to correspond regularly and later connected on social media. She included me as part of a group that I left at 14, but a group of people I grew up with and often wondered how life changed for them.

She prayed with me for my son through his hard days with surgeries and setbacks. She gave me hope that God can heal as she shared the health crisis she endured with her own child. We were both caretakers for our elderly mothers, she more hands on with hers as she lived close by. Me more administrative with mine although I did make several trip a year to see her.

On one of those trips in 2018, we finally reconnected face to face. The first time since 1969, it was like we never skipped a beat. We spent two hours laughing, sharing and reminiscing. A wonderful cherished time.

So, back to Muffet’s original message in 2009, was it a coincidence she wrote to me at this critical time? Several times in my life I believe God has arranged events and sent people to comfort me and show me his love just when I need it most.  No, Muffet’s note and whatever the process was that she found me and decided to write, was a gift from God. It was as if God was saying, “I love you, Trish.”

Sunday, is Muffet’s birthday. This friend who has been a gift from God to me. Thank you Muffet for caring enough to contact me. I treasure these past few years of reconnecting and sharing. I look forward to when we can meet face to face again. Muffet, not to sound too Golden Girlish… “Thank you for being a friend.”

Happy Birthday ~ I love you.

Why Me Lord?

He’s in the hospital again. Swedish hospital in Seattle. I was going to see him last night, but it was so dark and pouring rain that I struggled about whether I should go or not. In the end I decided against it.

This morning I heard on the news that there had been a terrible accident on the interstate westbound to Seattle. After the accident one of the drivers tried to cross the eastbound lanes of I-90 and was hit and killed. It seems I was wise to follow my instinct and better judgment, or could it have been God leading me to make a wise choice.

Tonight, the rain had eased up, so I went to Seattle. On the way home at 8PM the traffic was still heavy, it was dark and had started to rain heavily. I turned on some music to relieve some stress. Two songs came on my Apple Music one after the other, and I repeated them all the way home. The first was this one by Kris Kristofferson ~ “Why me Lord?”

This video tells the moving back story of Kristofferson‘s song.

He wrote the song after a spiritual experience he had in 1972. He attended a church service and during the invitation he was overpowered with the love and forgiveness from Yeshua (Jesus). The song imparts his feelings of unworthiness of such love from God.

On a side note, hearing this song brought back memories of my youngest son when he was about 5 years old. Once when the song was playing, he wondered why KK was saying “Why Me Lord?” He thought maybe he was asking God why his voice was so deep. ❤️

The second was “Fall On Me” by Joel Chernoff. It is duet with Sharon Wilber. It is a love song and a plea to the Lord to touch one’s life and be filled with the spirit of God. It reminded me that God is faithful and I only need ask for more of him.

My spirit has been struggling of late like many others. I look around and see all the anger, all the immorality, all the suffering and mostly all the hate and it is disheartening. Added to that is the anxiety that comes when Josh is in the hospital. I wonder will he ever know a cure, or will he suffer endlessly? I have a deep nagging fear that he is slowly dying because if the disease and it’s comorbidities don’t take his life, the strong medications he takes to suppress his immune system will. Many of these drugs come with warning that than can cause cancer. He is currently on his fifth one after having four others fail.

This morning, while driving into work another song played. It was “My Grace” by my friend in Israel, Pam Singer. In her lyrics she asks, “Is this Grace enough? Will tender mercies see me through?”

The reply she hears is: “My Grace Enough, My tender mercies new everyday. I crown your life with strength and loving kindness. My eyes are on you. My presence near My ear would hear the cry of your heart. I call you Mine, beloved forever. My Grace Enough.”

So what is the point of all my rambling here. 

1. I was worried about not going to see Josh on Wednesday evening, but later discovered that by not going, I was saved from the interstate shutdown and accident. 

2. After I went last night, I left feeling dispirited and out of the 900+ songs in my music library, two songs came on that reminded me that, a) I have done nothing to deserve God’s blessings and love and, b) all I have to do is ask him to fill me again, and again each day with his spirit.

3. This morning Pam’s song played as a reminder that no matter what I am going through, not matter what I am agonizing over, God’s Grace is enough. He hears me. He knows my heart and I am loved by Him.

Living Year to Year

With a little less than 48 hours left in 2023, I found this note that keeps popping up that I wrote in 2013. That year was a stressful hard year. My youngest son, a 22 year old college student, spent five months in the hospital, after three surgeries he had nearly exsanguinating bleed and spent weeks in the ICU.

Ten years later, I read these words and see that I made it through that year with the love and support of my family and friends. In reality we make it through every year with their support… with them, we make it through Life!

As I look back on 2023, I do so knowing that I followed my own advice here. I look forward to 2024 and as I often say, “I try to live everyday as if it might be my last at the base of the mountain near the river.”


Down to 48 hours left in 2013.

Going to think through the ups and downs, happiness and heartaches, blessings and curses, those who I lost and those who I still have close to love and appreciate. In that final group, my family and friends including you my Facebook friends and family, who encouraged me, prayed for my family and helped me through this long year.

I thank you and wish for you all a new year of success, warm times with your family, and peace.

I still remember the words from CBS reporter Lee Cowan after the marathon bombing. (The bombings) ” do remind us we don’t get to set life’s clock. While we may think we’ll have a tomorrow to say all the things we want to say, or should have said, what this week proved is that sometimes, that tomorrow doesn’t come — and the things left unsaid could end up one of our greatest regrets. “

Have no regrets. Tell your loved ones how much you care for them, forgive and heal old wounds if at all possible, if not forgive yourself. Live everyday to its fullest and if you are reading this know you are appreciated and loved by me. 💕

Spirit of the Season

Merry Christmas
Happy Holidays
Season’s Greetings
What is best
To express good will and glad tidings
To all during the holiday fest?

All a cordial sentiment
Extended with kindness and delight,
Delivered with a smile,
A gesture that seems lost these days
One many have not seen in a while.

Nothing appears beyond critique,
Not even a gentle heartfelt wish.
It seems every spoken thought or word
Is analyzed and torn apart
Before its even heard.

Divisiveness and discord
Are hijacking every joy and tradition
From the soul of the season,
This time of fellowship and wonder,
For really no good reason.

So tell me Merry Christmas
No matter my beliefs,
I smile and accept your salutation
Knowing the spirit in which it was sent,
Was not meant as intimidation.

Wish me Happy Holidays
Throughout this time of year,
I will wish you well as I go my way.
Please know that your kind thoughts
Will help me make it through the day.

And if you say Season’s Greetings
I perceive it in peace and unity;
Not animosity and strife.
For it is the season of love and harmony
That helps get us through this life.

Merry Christmas
Happy Holidays
Season Greetings
Say them all with a heart that’s joyous,
For if we’re forced to monitor every word
We let the quibblers destroy us.

© Trish B 2019
Photo courtesy of Unsplash – Inna Skosyreva

Farthest Journey

It is said, mostly in Chinese proverbs, that “A journey of a thousand miles, begins with a single step,” and “A thousand mile journey begins where one stands.” I have been fortunate enough to have traveled many thousands of miles to different places.

In 1977, I traveled from Houston Texas to Seoul, South Korea – 7035 miles. In 1991, I went to Celle, Germany from Seattle – 4964 miles. In 2000, I made my first trip to Israel – 6,816 from Seattle and in 2015 I traveled from Seattle to Brisbane, Australia for a total of 7,357 miles. So just by total distance traveled, Australia wins.

However, if we go back to the Chinese Proverb, about a journey beginning with a single step, the furthest I have traveled on foot was in 2001. At the time I was attending a Messianic congregation in Bellevue, WA. They had acquired a new property in Newcastle, the next town over and being part of a metropolitan area one really could not tell where one ended and the other began.

As part of this move they planned to walk with their Torah Scroll to the new location. The The Torah (or Pentateuch) contains the five books of Moses: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. It is considered by the Jewish people as their gift from God, their guide to life filled with with His wisdom. According to Jewish tradition when a synagogue closes its doors or relocates, the Torah scrolls are moved by careful ceremony. It is said that the journey to the new synagogue is modeled on the journey the Jews made to the Promised Land with the Ark of the Covenant, and many believe they are carrying the heart and soul of the congregation.

The distance to the new location was 8.5 miles. At the time I was forty-six years old and JD, my youngest son, was twelve. We decided to join in the walk. Many people were preparing for the event by building up their endurance. When I was asked if I was “training,” I replied that I was not. I had been to both places and by car, I was healthy and it didn’t really seem to be an insurmountable task.

JD and I showed up early for the walk. The Torah was carried by different members of the congregation and anyone that wanted a turn at carrying the Torah was welcome to do so. The Torah was covered by a tent that was a Jewish prayer shawl (a Tallit) held up by a pole at each corner. There were four people carrying the poles and those positions were also switched out along the journey. We walked along the city streets, a group of maybe 40 of us, we sang, we shared stories, we laughed and waved to the curious passersby.

The trip went really well for the first say, 7.5 miles, then as the day warmed up I began to get tired. Also, as we entered Newcastle there was a slight incline that made the walk a little more difficult. As we got closer to the new location, other members began to join in the walk for the last mile. They were excited (not tired) and full of energy and it seemed the pace picked up a little. The last half mile, I really had to push myself.

At last we made the final turn to the new location, it was about a third of a mile (approximately 5 city blocks) up a steep incline. I was at the back of the pack by now and I literally drug myself to the top one-hard-push-at-a-time.

When we arrived there was singing and celebrating and food for all. I was hot and my face was as red as a beet. I stayed a short while but thought it best to head home while I could still move. When I got home it was about 3 in the afternoon. I took a shower, went to bed and didn’t not wake up until the next morning.

When I think about my journey, I think of the many journeys the Jewish people have made over the years and the hardships they endured when they were exiled and and thrown out of their homes, towns and countries. During the pogroms they left with the only the belongings they could carry on their back or maybe in small wagons. The treks were long and arduous but I am sure the Torah scrolls went with them.

There are approximately 2,350 steps in a mile for a woman my height. That day I only made a 20,000 step journey, far from a thousand miles, but it still started with a single step and a determination to finish.

My journey was a joyous celebration and although I did not prepare for the journey, my walk made me reflect on the tradition and how even during persecution and strife the Jewish people honored the Torah on every journey of a thousand miles they were forced to make.

8/12/23

Miracles

I have given miracles a lot of thought while traveling the past few weeks. I was trying to sort out what I believe. When I thought of miracles I was thinking of the great ones Yeshua performed, healing the sick and raising the dead.

I wondered if these miracles happen today? I have heard people tell stories of going to third world countries and witnessing such healings, but I, the constant questioner of things I cannot see, have doubts. I surely have prayed for miraculous healings, for great supernatural showing of power to overthrow injustice and evil, but my eyes have not seen.

As I pondered these thoughts, I realized I still wanted to say, I believe in miracles but wonder if the time for the extremely awesome and breathtaking ones has passed.

Then I realized. There are no monumental or small miracles… everyday is a miracle. It is miraculous that not by my own power, I can turn a knob and clean fresh water comes from the tap, that I flip a plastic switch and I have light, or that I can reach the world from a small 4×6 device that I hold in my hand.

Last week I traveled from one side of the country to the other in a large metal tube with wings. It weighed hundreds of thousands of pounds yet it lifted into the air like a leaf blowing in the wind and took me thousands of miles in a few short hours.

The week before that I witnessed a huge rainbow that stretched across the sky over the Pacific Ocean. It filled me with a sense of awe and wonder of the beauty of this world. It took me above the fray on the ground to see the bigger picture of life.

Life, life is a miracle. The very fact that we are here on this earth is a testament to miracles. My ancestors going back thousands of years survived extreme hardships, famines, wars, diseases and countless other obstacles to produce offspring that finally resulted in my birth. I have read that the odds that I am here living on earth is in the trillions. The same holds true for all the over eight billion people in the world. That is one enormous miracle.

Yes, I believe in Miracles.

Sixty Years Ago ~ November 22, 1963

The assassination of President John F. Kennedy.

It was just a few months after my 8th birthday. I was in the second grade and we lived at 1111 So Fifth Street, Conroe, TX.

It was a Friday. I was on the school bus going home. My bus stop was at the corner of Silverdale and Fifth Street. As I was getting off the bus the driver told me.

It is one of those events that you never forget where you were when you heard. I remember stepping down the three short steps of the bus, the walk down the block to our house, my mother’s tears, the shock and the sadness.

President Kennedy was buried the following Monday. There was no school that day and I watched the funeral on a black and white TV with the rest of my family.

Hard to believe sixty years have passed. It was in the beginning of the sixties, it was the beginning of a decade of changes; civil rights movement, feminism, the sexual revolution, war protests, countercultural revolutions, and assassinations. .

Just five years later in the summer before my 13th birthday on April 4, 1968 and June 6, 1968, first Martin Luther King, Jr and then Robert F. Kennedy were assassinated. As I watched the news, I sadly realized that real evil exists in the world and hate destroys.

Now I have reached the age where I wonder if anything has really changed for the better in my lifetime.

As I remember those brave and inspiring men who stood for change I wonder if they died in vain because we as a nation are still divided, we still see our fellow citizens as enemies, we still hate and real evil still exists.

Nicknames

In my lifetime, I have had several nicknames. Thankfully one from my childhood I have out grown and others still make me smile.

By my immediately family, I was called Sissy as a child. I think it was an old southern thing, my maternal grandmother, Mary Elizabeth Wright, was know as “Sister” by her family until she died and our name for her was “Grandma Sissy.” Although occasionally through the years my mother would still call me Sis or Sissy, this is the name that I am thankful I outgrew.

The other name was given me by my grandfather, Wallace Van Houten. He called me “Patty-Watty.” He called me that until the day he died and I cherished it. He was the only person that called me “Patty-Watty” and it was a special name that denoted the affection he had for me. 

I still have little scrapes of paper and envelopes where he wrote notes later in life for the things he wanted to give me, they read “for Patty-Watty.” One such envelope is in a drawer with miscellaneous jewelry. I see it most every day and it always makes me smile.

I also inherited many photo albums that belonged to my grandfather and in each one with my picture, young or old it’s labeled “Patty-Watty.”

My grandfather took many videos of us as children. In his retirement years he spent hours playing them from old big reels onto VHS tapes. He narrates throughout and identifies people in the videos. It makes me smile when I hear him say, “Look who that is there, it’s Patty-Watty. She’s the sweetest little girl.”

In All Things Give Thanks

It is November, and I am thankful for all things in my life. I often take this month to to take a special accounting of all the blessings in my life, whether they be large and small, and I share them each day. However, this year my heart feels heavy. I still remind myself everyday, I am just finding it hard to share when so many are suffering.

My hope in the future is waning and it seems everyday there is more and more discourse, more incidents that indicate we as a society are in trouble. I cannot escape the sense of foreboding or shut out the noise, the hate, or the insanity that I am bombarded with everyday, as it seems it is now every moment of everyday.

Truly, lately, I feel as the old hymn says…”This world is not my home.” and daily I am telling myself that, ” I am just passing through.”

Today two posts from the past expressions of gratitude brought me some peace. They reminded me that even in all the chaos around me and in the world, there is still so much to be thankful for. I can still count my blessings and be thankful when others are struggling. I do so with a humble heart knowing that I have done nothing to deserve even one blessing or even my next breath.

The first post follows this simple instruction from Psalm 69 says, “…praise the name of God with Song”… meaning to worship. When I sing and praise God it lifts my spirit, it eases my deep sighs and fill my heart with gratitude.

I will praise the name of God with song, And exalt Him with thanksgiving.Psalm 69:30 NASB

“I have learned that in every circumstance that comes my way, I can choose to respond in one of two ways: I can whine or I can worship! And I can’t worship without giving thanks. It just isn’t possible. When we choose the pathway of worship and giving thanks, especially in the midst of difficult circumstances, there is a fragrance, a radiance, that issues forth out of our lives to bless the Lord and others.” ~Nancy Leigh DeMoss

The second post was more personal, of all the gifts I have received, my sons are among the greatest. They are unique and each one touches my heart in different way.

“Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.” ~ Marcel Proust

This picture, taken in 1999, makes me smile each time I see it and I see it everyday. These three people are the ones that make me happy and bring joy to my heart. ❤️

It is November, a month for giving thanks. I thank God for everything because He has given me Everything.

My Best Job

I am going to rate the best job I ever had by the lasting friendships that have remained from it. Not counting the current job I have had for 32 years, the best job I ever had was at Dateline Technology in Bellevue, WA in 1984 when I moved to Washington.

Other than the one day I worked as a temp and left crying at lunch, Dateline was my first job here. It was a technology company that sold and installed Prime and Wang data storage systems. It was owned by two ex-Prime Computer employees. One had been an engineer and the other a marketing manager, Joe and Jack.

When I started there, other than Joe and Jack, there were five other guys, they were technicians and installers. Seven guys and me. Although I was only 28 years old, I was affectionately referred to as the “den mother.”

It was a growing business and in just a few years there were over twenty of us.  Joe and Jack made Dateline a fun and challenging place to work. In a few short years they made record sales and the guys were traveling all over the US installing systems. I was the secretary, girl Friday, and later bookkeeper. I handled all the travel arrangements for the guys in the field and kept in contact with them. Sometimes they head out for two places and end up to going to four other places in several states before they made it back home.

Once we had a holiday party where they celebrated the sales and success of the prior year.  After dinner, Joe and Jack played a game of “Price is Right,” employees had guessed total sales for the year, profits and sales projections.  The winner in each category was the person whose guess came the closest without going over. Since I was doing bookkeeping by this time, I did not play along. They handed out some really nice prizes to the winners.

The last prize was a simple drawing for a small radio/tv so I could participate. Jack reached in a pulled out a name…it said “Wink Martindale!”  One of the sales guys jumped up and began dancing around the room singing the notes to the “Price is Right” theme song.  Jack looked around and said, “I don’t know a Wink Martindale.”  He drew another name and I won!  I still have that little TV at the office and even though it doesn’t work on any system available today, every time I see it, it makes me smile.

At that same party there was a young woman who was our receptionist, Shannon. At one point in the evening we got up and went to the ladies room together. When we came back and sat down there was a moment of dead silence, then all 12 of guys stood up and left the room (supposedly all going to the restroom like women do… together). We sat there and laughed and laughed.

It was a fun place, we were like a family. Sadly as with a lot of successful small businesses, they had growing pains and later conflicts between Joe and Jack on financial issues and the direction for the future. I left there when my old boss, a lobbyist for Sun Oil Co. in Colorado, moved to Washington and offered me a job. Shortly after I left, they sold to a California company. A couple of the guys moved to California to work for this new company, but most found new jobs.

Of the original seven from when I started, I am still in contact with four of them: Jim, Dave, Steve and Terry.

Jim lives in California now; he was like a brother to me and my kids still call him Uncle Jim. Over the years we have visited California and Jim would go with us to Disneyland. He was like a kid and would spend hours on Tom Sawyers Island with Josh.

Dave lived with us for a while after Dateline sold. He was from Massachusetts and he moved back to the East Coast. After moving back he got married a lovely lady named Lynne. We still communicate via Facebook and he sent the kindest note a few years back that made me realize I’m part of something bigger.

The note read: “I spoke to the (church) group about how important the YMCA and the Boy Scouts were to me but to my friend beside me and to Lynne later, I spoke of a person that has made me believe and think of God more than anyone in my life; a person that held out their hand to a young man that moved across country and didn’t have many friends made me feel special and a part of her family. This person opened my eyes to church more than a young Catholic man had seen before and it awoke a desire for more that I am just now understanding and I thank the Lord for you everyday. For many years I could only read stories now I can act and talk my faith. I believe in the power of prayer and my heavenly woman you and Chris have opened your home and your heart to me and I can never repay you for all you have done for me.”

I never imagined.

Steve lives in Joyce, WA on the Olympic Peninsula with his wife Elizabeth.  When I was pregnant with Josh, I got a job as an administrative assistant at the company where Elizabeth worked, so I had worked with them both, and they both remain friends.

Terry who was one of the electrical engineers used to live here in the same town in North Bend, and we would see each other occasionally, but he has since retired and moved to Oregon.

I never heard from Jack after I left. He was more my boss than Joe was, and I think he was upset at my leaving and never really forgave me.

I did casually stay in touch with Joe. When JD was born he and his wife came to visit and brought a gift. It was a yellow sweater with little ducks on it that his wife had knitted. Joe sadly died from Lou Gehrig’s disease in 2008. Chris and I had gone to visit him a few years before that, he had lost all movement below his chest but could still speak. He had been a ballroom dancer and visiting him and seeing him this way was hard. Hard visit for us, but I know it was a blessing to him.

In summary, Dateline was the best job while it lasted, just shy of three years, and it created several of the “best friendships” that have lasted for nearly forty.

That’s me in a sales brochure that went out in 1986. I was pretending to be a technician. Jack was trying to emphasize what a progressive company we were employing women in high tech jobs. In truth I did not even know how to turn the thing on and I don’t really think it fooled anyone.