As you may have guessed from my radio silence, it’s been a week. I did get in a bit of that extended celebration. I hosted a couple more dinners, with plenty of gifts, laughter, and conversation to go around. And just when I was thinking 2011 was sure to go out on a high note, I received that dreaded phone call. My aunt Karma was gone.

Karma was one of the bonuses our family received when my grandmother married my grandpa Vern. Not only did my grandma finally find a good man, and my mom and her siblings, a good father–they received an extended family, too. Mainly, two sons {brothers}, and a daughter {sister}.

While the kids were all older when our families combined, they seemed to hit it off. By the time I came on the scene, I couldn’t tell the difference between my blood relatives and my adopted. We joined each other for holidays and BBQs; we celebrated marriages and births; we shared tears and laughter.

That’s what I remember most about my aunt Karma–her laughter. If she wasn’t laughing, she was smiling. And her smile could light up the room. It was infectious.

The second thing I remember most was her voice–softspoken, there was something in her voice that could instantly put you at ease. It’s hard to explain, but hearing her talk was like coming home.

She was girly, yet she loved muscled cars. She was smart; she could figure out anything she put her mind to. She adored her family. She loved those around her. And I’m not talking about a weak, selfish love. No, she stuck it out. She believed in those whom the rest of us had long abandoned hope.

Come to think of it, I’ve never given much credence to the idea of someone dying into the role of an angel; but my aunt Karma does make me wonder. With just enough spunk to keep people in line, but more than enough love to cover a multitude of sins, she’d be a good one. So if you happen to catch a glimpse of someone who looks vaguely like this . . .

Someone who comes into your life briefly, to mend hearts and make things a bit brighter, be thankful for the time you’ve been given. I know I am.

Still, I’d like a bit more.

You see, after my grandpa passed away, those big family dinners fell by the wayside. Years passed and we didn’t see our extended family. If we did it was usually a big, busy gathering–a wedding or a funeral, maybe a birthday celebration. The last time I actually sat down with my aunt Karma and had a nice long chat, was well over two years ago. We met for lunch–we talked and laughed and reminisced. We promised to do it more often.

Yet today, as we said goodbye to another year, we laid my aunt to rest.

So as you set out to make those New Year’s resolutions, I pray keeping in touch with loved ones be at the top of your list. Because, life is fleeting and final goodbyes are hard. Looking back with sorrow on all that you missed is all the harder . . .

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and days of auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet
For auld lang syne

Yet another Mother’s Day Extravaganza has come and gone. We celebrated four mothers this weekend–eating {a lot}, chatting, laughing, taking ridiculously posed photos {all of which are on my aunt’s camera, thank you very much, since I kept leaving mine at home}. We shopped {a lot}, had one brief visit to a minor emergency {thought perhaps my aunt was having an allergic reaction to a shot; it was “just” a nicked artery}, and shopped some more. Sunday, we ate a delectable brunch, sipped mimosas, and opened gifts. All mothers present received calls and messages from their far flung kids. It was a good day.

Of course, my mom was a bit melancholy to see her sister and friend drive off. To sidetrack sadness, I took her to a movie—Fast 5,  naturally. It may be unfortunate to admit, but we kinda loved it. The stress propelled me to eat Twizzlers fast and furious and gave my mom a headache, but she forgot all about her loved ones far away. It was some good times.

Now, to recover from a frivolity hangover. Quite a tall order for a Monday.

Good luck to us then …

Look at her, with her little fishing pole. Funny thing is, now that I’m nearly two decades older than she was when this photo was taken, she’s still pretty darn cute–though I doubt she would admit such. Just like she would never admit to being one of the best moms ever; perhaps that’s one of the things that makes her so.

That and she makes me laugh. Very few people can make me laugh like my mom. Whereas some may wonder what their parents were like when they were younger, I feel as if I know. It’s almost as if, when I look at this photo, I can imagine myself there.

I am one of the lucky ones. Sigh.

But my mum is not the only one I’ll be celebrating this weekend. My aunt Sonja–and her best friend–are coming over to celebrate her 60th.

Good times are bound to be ahead.

With that, there are floors to scrub, cupcakes to bake, and presents to wrap. I best get to it.

So to all you mothers, a very happy Mother’s Day … and extra love to those who will be missing mothers or children …

In between thundershowers, the sun pokes through. Spring may very well arrive after all. And if my social calendar is any indication, I’m beginning to emerge from hibernation. I’m fairly giddy with anticipation, if for no other reason than to take my eyes off my dilemmas and focus on the good.

Speaking of good, I’m planning a trip to the airport this afternoon. My friends will be arriving back from China with their little girl. It will be fun to see her in person … and welcome her home …

Also fun? Boise Music Week.  At least, that’s what I’ve been told.  All these these years and I’ve been to a handful of events. It’s usually the first week of May, which always manages to be packed. But this year, thanks to Wicked conflicts, it’s a week early. And that means I’ll be going with my aunt and madre to see Bye Bye Birdie.

I must admit, I knew nothing when my aunt extended the invite. Well, I knew the name–and the fact that it was a musical. I know, I know, where have I been all my life? I’m just not a musical connoisseur. They’re too iffy; they can be fun, or they can be painful–there’s rarely middle ground.

So I set out to do a bit of sleuthing. Seeing how this particular musical is set in 1958–and I just so happen to be a throwback–I’m sure to enjoy it … except maybe for the screaming girls … which I’ve never understood. Even then, with good company, it’s bound to be some good times.

Now, if I can just stay awake past my bedtime…

Today is Albert Einstein’s birthday.  If his longevity had met his genius, he would be 132.  I’m sure he’s grateful such is not the case.

You know, I have a soft spot for the guy–impressive really, considering math and science make me gag a little bit.  This attraction has little to do with his crazy-man ‘do {though you’ve got to love it … so long as it stays atop someone else’s head}.  Rather–

He taught me how to be a good technical writer {“If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough.”} …

He lauded imagination (“If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales. If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales.”} …

He preached the importance of perseverance {“It’s not that I’m so smart, I just stay with problems longer.”)…

He also reminds me of my dad.

My dad, like Einstein, is German.  Born March 2nd, he’s also a Pisces.   Though certainly not bereft of stupidity, he’s really quite bright. Where Einstein got the ball rolling for photovoltaics (alternative energy using solar cells)–my dad keeps it going by being in the photovoltaic business.

And the denouement:  the older my dad gets, the more he takes on a semblance of Albert Einstein.

I once made the mistake of mentioning this fact at a family gathering. You would have thought I flipped the man off and spouted profanities.  Apparently, they just can’t look past the hair.  Pity.  Because, once  you catch sight of the similarity, you see one, you see the other.  And you just can’t help but smile at the recognition.

{three generations}

I, for one, am glad God knows what he’s doing.  It may not seem like it at the time, but he does.  My brother is living proof.  You see decades ago, on this very day, I was sure to hold a little bundle of pink.  I’d been planning all the fun we would have together ever since my parents informed me I was going to have a sister.  Of course, I failed to hear or brother anywhere in their announcement. 

The blue was a bit of a shock. 

If you’ve been around here for long, you’ve heard it all before.  Yet I continue to be amazed that a brother is all I never knew I always wanted. 

Needless to say, the former presidents of the US of A are not the only ones I’ll be celebrating today. Long distance though it may be, I’ll be raising a glass to my “baby” brother…  Thanks for turning out to be the perfect person to grow up with.  Thanks for making me laugh until I cry.  Thanks for being an inspiration–maybe someday I’ll have your storytelling chops, or actually learn what I’m doing with a camera.  You’re the best brother a girl could ask for.  It’s been fun to see where life has taken you thus far; I look forward to see what’s in store. 

I do, of course, remain a bit put out that you live in Sweden.  It’s wretched luck that I can’t be there to help you celebrate.  Perhaps in time I’ll get over that one as well … perhaps …

We rung in 2011 with peals of laughter … the best way to start a new year.  Today the sky is blue and the sun shines bright … for all intents and purposes, the year seems perfect.     

But the  year also started with goodbyes.  We took my brother, sister-in-law, and wee nephew to the airport … hugged … cried … and watched them to through the windows until we could see them no longer.  They’re on their way back to Sweden; I’m in a quiet house, trying not to bawl myself silly. 

It’s not an easy task, let me tell ya.

I have a knot the size of Texas in my throat … even the sight of chocolate milk in the fridge makes my chin quiver.  

I miss my sister-in-law pouring herself coffee morning, noon, and night …

I miss hanging out with my brother …

I miss hearing, “Kolla {trans. “see”}, Ah-my!  Kolla, Ah-my!  KOLLA, AH-MY!!!”   

Sure, it’s not the end of the world.  We’ll keep in touch; we’ll Skype.  But I don’t want to go back “in the box.”  I want to talk in person …and go on walks … and play … and laugh … and kiss those sweet cheeks. 

So don’t mind me … I’ll just be in the corner, sniveling.  I’ll return when I’m quite finished.

{happiest of birthday wishes to The Birthday Girl}

The Birthday Girl turned 90 on December 26th–which, she will be the first to tell you, is a most unfortunate day to be born.  People are tired of eating, and celebrating, and otherwise spending large amounts of money.  And that leaves you with birthday presents wrapped in Christmas paper–if you’re lucky enough to get separate gifts at all. 

It’s a sad, sad state of affairs.  Sigh. 

This year, however, The Birthday Girl got to choose–whatever she wanted to do for her birthday, the family would do it.  She requested a small family dinner {with the inclusion of a lifelong friend} … at the Olive Garden … “Because, you know, we never got to eat there when Russell was alive.” 

And it just so happens, the manager working that day was also a December 26th baby.  So while The Birthday Girls compared horror stories, the rest of us sampled the complimentary appetizer trays.  The wait staff came out to serenade, they picked up The Birthday Girl’s tab–they even supplied her with a paper cone, filled to the brim with her favorite mint chocolates, all to take home. 

Of course, to each and every person who stopped by to greet her, she would say, “Do you know how old I am?”

“How old?”  they’d respond.

“Ninety!” she’d exclaim, chuckling, and shaking her head.

Apparently, it gets no easier to believe you’re as old as you are; perhaps that’s the reason birthdays may continue to shine bright … even on the 26th of December …

As you might imagine, our days have been busy around here.  We’ve been making visits, meeting friends–and servicing a few more milk runs that usual. 

It’s been a hodge-podge.

The other day, my sister-in-law mentioned that it doesn’t seem like Christmas.  I must admit it’s true.  Could be the fact that we’re trying to squeeze in a thousand different things … could be the rain … could be the fact that I’m behind, as usual.  Although, be it known, it was not entirely my fault this year.  I kept waiting for jobs to come through, invoices to be paid.  Buying gifts and placing them under the tree did not meet deadline.  Sigh. 

My nephew summed it up nicely while waiting for ice cream at “the home” on Saturday, when he suddenly yelled, Jag måste ha tålamod!  I MUST HAVE PATIENCE!  It’s something I tell myself on a regular basis … but now I’m going to fist pump the air and yell for all I’m worth. Maybe that will work.  At least it’s worth a  try.

So, with that, I’m off to finish Christmas cards … maybe wrap a present or two … drink some nog … watch a Christmas movie … you know, partake in the festive sorts.  At least I’m off to take a shower before the wee one wakes up, being it’s just the two of us this morning. 

Oh, and how could I forget?  That lost piece of luggage?  It ended up on our doorstep late Thursday night–a Christmas miracle, non?!

Well, my family arrived on Wednesday evening, early even … and from a connection in Denver, no less!  A Christmas miracle right there.  The trip went well … my nephew was a trooper … we can all be thankful.  The only letdown:  someone stole their suitcase with all their Christmas presents.  Needless to say we’re praying for another miracle–some are praying nicer prayers than others.  I won’t mention any names, but someone in this family is praying that God harangues them mercilessly. MERCILESSLY I tell you!  I mean really, who steals someone’s Christmas presents?  More importantly, who steals someone’s Christmas chocolate?!  That’s just rude. 

Nonetheless, the best gifts of all are here. 

We’ve been chatting and laughing; hugging and kissing; coloring and drawing pictures; playing cars and running races–in other words, having the best time ever. 

And I pray the same for you, dear friends; may your weekend be filled with the most precious of moments … and the most precious of people with which to share them…