Trying, But Not Having Charity

Besides Grandma Johnson's passing, the year 2000 looked like it was going to be a fantastic year. After getting engaged on Christmas Eve, Holly and Jason began planning their wedding for the first of May, Russell submitted his papers to church headquarters requesting to be called to serve a mission for our church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and Linnea and Jason blessed our first granddaughter, Tais. Things were looking good.

Grandma's funeral was on February 7, 2000. All of my favorite people, my cousins, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, and mom and dad were there. It should have been a lovely day. The funeral was perfect, a wonderful tribute to an amazing woman, but it was marred when we walked out of the church to find my ex-husband waiting outside to talk to everyone. I was caught off guard, but not really surprised. It was exactly what Sheldon would do at a time like this. After all, Grandma had been a part of his life for ten years, he had been friends with my family during that time, and his children were at the funeral so he wanted to be there to support them. The problem was with my own husband. Moe disliked Sheldon, (mostly because he wanted to protect me and he knew Sheldon had and continued to hurt me) and it put him in a bad mood to have him there.

Moe was not confrontational, he didn't say anything at all to Sheldon, but he wanted to leave immediately so he wouldn't have to deal with him. I wanted to stay and talk to my family. I tried to explain this to Moe, but he didn't understand. I didn't want to make a scene, but it was really tense and Moe was unhappy. I suppose, under reverse circumstances, I would have felt the same way. If it had been Moe's ex-wife who was there, and she had wanted to talk to him and his family, I suppose I would have felt bad, too. Anyway, it sort of killed the spirit, and what should have been one of the most important days of my life was ruined. It was hard.

That seemed to set the stage for the rest of the year. Dad warned me when I got divorced that as long as I had children, things were going to be difficult where Sheldon was concerned. There were just too many occasions when we had to be together. Perhaps the lesson I was supposed to learn was how to be gracious even under tense conditions. I really tried. But I could only control my own actions and feelings, not Moe's.

Russell was called to serve a mission in South Dakota. Again, what should have been a memorable occasion was marred because of our dysfunctional family, and this time I blew it. Sheldon told Russell that when his call came he was not to open it until he and his estranged wife and all of her family were there to watch. The letter came in the middle of the afternoon, which is when Russell told me about his dad's plan. I blew up and told him they couldn't all come over to our house, and I wouldn't go wherever they were. I was very selfish and mean, but it came as such a shock and I wasn't prepared for the idea of having to deal with them, or having to deal with Moe when he found out they were coming. Russell was amazing. He quietly went down to his bedroom and opened the call all by himself. Then he called his dad and told him where he was going. Then he came upstairs and told Moe and me. I felt so bad for ruining his special moment, but I was also proud of him!

Linnea and Jason decided to bless Tais at our house in March. Normally, baby blessings are given at Church on the first Sunday of the month, but their ward was having a special conference so they couldn't do it there. Linnea asked if it would be alright to have everyone come over to our house and have the blessing there, and I said yes, but it was awkward. Sheldon came, of course, but so did his estranged wife and her children. I don't know what I had expected, but it wasn't that.

It seemed that whole spring was one big dueling match with Sheldon and Lori. I should have been more understanding, but because I was trying to keep peace with Moe, I wasn't. Obviously, Sheldon was doing whatever it took to get his estranged wife to come back to him, and he was focusing on making her happy. I should have realized that and helped. Instead, each time he demanded we do things his way I got more huffy and cranky. Why couldn't I go with Russell to pick out his suits and shirts and ties and shoes and coats and everything? Why wasn't I a part of choosing his luggage and getting him ready? My feelings got hurt, and I worried about me saying goodby to my son instead of encouraging and enjoying this exciting moment with him.

It must have been hard on Russell, but he never said a word. Instead, he was sweet and nice and understanding. Krisann had become his favorite pal at this time. Kami was in kindergarten, but Krissi would hang around Russell all day long, watching kids shows on TV, playing games together, and just reveling in the special attention she got being his “Krissi buddy”. It was so sweet.

On April 4^th Russell was set apart to become a missionary. Our Stake President came over to our house to do this. Again, it should have been such a spiritual event, but I couldn't help being distracted by Sheldon and Lori. The Stake President asked Mom and I to bear our testimonies, then Russell asked if Lori could too, then Sheldon wanted to. I was so mad at myself for not being able to focus on the spirit, but I didn't know how to change. How could I have charity and at the same time not make Moe jealous or me feel selfish?

The next morning we took Russell to the airport and sent him off on his mission. I was afraid I was going to cry all over the place, but I didn't because I was worrying about the little girls, about Moe being cross at Sheldon, about Sheldon ordering everyone around and acting like Santa Claus, and about me not having charity. Russell's friends were late getting to the airport, so he was worried about them, and by the time they got there it was time for him to leave and there wasn't time for tears, except for my last hug. Then he was gone.

I came home and cleaned the refrigerator and cried, cleaned the front yard (his friends had heart attacked our house the night before) and cried, cleaned Russell's bedroom and cried, and moved his bed upstairs for the little girls and cried, and cried, and cried. I missed him sooooooooo much!

A Visitor In the Night

The central Arizona desert can be a hot, dry place, uninviting for all but the hardiest of creatures.  On the other hand, when water is brought to it the most amazing things can be grown there.  Cool, shady cottonwood trees can lower the temperature from unbearably hot to just very warm, and if you add a ditch full of cold water coming straight from the river you suddenly have a very nice spot to spend a lazy summer afternoon.

Evenings and night are the magic times on the desert when everything but the people wake up and do their business.  (Perhaps the people have it backwards.)  Coyotes, owls, lizards, geckos all come alive when the sun goes down.  As do the other nocturnal creatures, as well.

When I was a little girl my auntie came to visit us once.   My sister and I gave her our room and we slept on the living room couch. One night I was awakened by something going across the floor. Thump, thump.  Thump, thump.  Whatever it was went into the dining room and crunched a crust of bread it found on the floor. I had never heard our old pussy cat make a noise like that, she was always as quiet as a mouse.

"Catherine," I whisper quietly as I shook my sister's shoulder.  "Wake up.  There's something in the kitchen."

Catherine rolled over and listened.  When she heard the noise she whispered back, "It's a skunk."

As we lay on the couch wondering what we should do it came back through the living room and went into our bedroom, rattling some paper behind our aunt's trunk.   Auntie woke up and called mama to come and see what was in her room. My sister said, "It’s a skunk, mama," but papa said, "How could there be a skunk in the house?"

Mama got up and lighted the lamp while I made a dive for papa’s bed and snuggled down close to him. All the noise scared the old skunk, who ran out into the dining room and hid under the refrigerator.  There was certainly nothing more we could do in the middle of the night, so we all went back to sleep, hoping the skunk would give up exploring our house and let itself out the same way he came in.

To our dismay, in the morning when we got up we found the skunk still hiding under the refrigerator.  
"I think I can kill it without it scenting things up," my big brother offered when no one could figure out a way to coax the skunk out of the house.  "Everybody says if you shoot a skunk between the eyes it will die before it can let off it's scent."

None of us were very excited about my brother trying to shoot a skunk in the dining room.  It would be a tough shot to make, lying on his stomach so he could see the skunk under the refrigerator, but since no one had any better ideas papa finally gave in and let brother get his gun.  He lay down on the floor under the dining room table, aimed his gun towards the refrigerator, and took his time to get everything lined up just right.  Finally, when he was sure he had the perfect shot, he squeezed the trigger.  He shot that old skunk right between the eyes, just like he planned, but it didn't work out the way he had hoped, because the skunk scented up the dining room anyway.  Peeeeewwww!!  It was awful!  We cleaned and cleaned and cleaned, but we could not get the smell out.  Finally we had to paint the refrigerator and the whole room to get rid of it.  Whew, what a mess!

When we looked around the next morning we found the back door ajar and papa remembered seeing some of the grand children eating grapes on the door step that evening. You can bet he got busy and fixed the door so we had no more such visitors in the night.

(from memories of Ethel H. Stewart)