Reminiscing

Kara and I were recently looking at photo albums and reflected again on how time just slips by so seamlessly. It’s funny, we cannot “time travel” forward or back, and while the future is hard to imagine, the past is so tangible it is hard to forget. Ryan’s high-pitched voice and endearing lisp and Natalie’s little Buddha-belly are so fresh in my memory; it’s hard to admit that those days are gone.

I really enjoyed my days as a father to young children; no regrets. However, with the perspective of being a father of teens, there are a few things that I might have done differently. For example, I would have taken the time to really teach them that the phrase “Work before Play” is not just a handy family saying for small kids on a Saturday morning, but a principle for living. It is applicable to yard work, cleanliness, homework, scouting, and should be self-enforced.

I would have wrestled more with my son and given more “horsey rides” to my girls. I did these things, often, but I think I would have done more.

I would have planted more, harvested more, gone on a few more donut runs and been more creative with Play-Doh.

I would have spent less time on rules, more time on principles.   Less time defining the “line” between acceptable and unacceptable behavior; more time inspiring greatness through purity, modesty, and virtue. This would make “the line” irrelevant. (I don’t know how, but I would try.)

I would have spent more time caressing their little heads and showing affection. I doted on them when they were small, a lot, and the innate desire to show them affection has not waned, but they resist it now. I didn’t need photo albums to remind me that I miss that.

Outing

Friday night was the Fathers and Sons camp out. Ryan has not shown much interest in going the last few years, but I figured the he wanted to go, I would go notwithstanding my limitations. Why couldn’t I sleep in a tent?  I have a lot of strange problems, but I have no prohibition against eating breakfast burritos.

It was for the whole stake and Ryan was cast in a skit by his leaders so he wanted to go, but for the evening only.  It was only about thirty minutes away so I was game.

Unfortunately, we had to park some distance from where our ward was congregated, maybe 100 yards.  Once we reached them Ryan found a friend and disappeared. It was then that I realized I’d left the folding chairs in car. Not only did I not want to trek back there, Ryan had the keys. I stood visiting for about 30 minutes, which is longer than I thought I could. Finally I asked a friend to call Ryan and have him return. He did and before long I had the chairs. It wasn’t an emergency because I could have just sat on the ground. It might have been a little weird with seven men all standing but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do.

The next challenge was the restroom. It was in a building down the road, about 300 yards in the opposite direction. When I had gone about half way I thought maybe walking that far wasn’t a good idea but what choice did I have? It is impossible to describe, but I'll try.  Each step is no big deal but as I walk, my body temperature slowly rises and the nerve signals to my legs and feet are diminish. It takes a lot of concentration.

I made it, and back, which kind of surprised me. I would not have guessed I could walk that far, unaided, over uneven ground no less. I should have remembered to bring my walking stick!  By the time I got back I was rather unsteady. I did my best to be inconspicuous and eventually found my chair.

I rested for a few minutes; my feet were very hot, with socks and shoes on, and I was generally warm. I guess I’m just not cut out for much in the great outdoors anymore.

The sun was setting and the program would be starting soon.  Unfortunately, it was back near the restroom. I couldn’t. Fortunately Ryan was nearby so I had him help me back to the car, where I waited for him to do his skit (barefoot with the a/c blasting.)

So, it was clearly the worst F&S experience I’d had, but what did I expect? We were not staying the night and I have real limitations and I cannot ignore them or be unprepared.

It did bring back many fond memories of past outings.  I only hope that my son remembers the good ones more than the one where he had to help his dad back to the car.

Silver lining?   There are lots.  I have a son, we have many "good ones" to remember, and although I was unsteady, miserably warm, and uncomfortable for a spell, I didn't fall, injure myself, or create a spectacle.  Life is good.  (Also, I was soundly sleeping in my bed when at 2:00 a.m. there was a terrible thunderstorm that basically washed out the camp; I didn't have to deal with that!)

Impromptu Assignment

So today was our stake conference for us to get a new stake president. As I walked in, the stake clerk greeted me and asked how I was doing. Before I could give my customary “fine” he added “vocally.” I answered honestly.

“Poorly” I said just above a whisper. I leaned close to him and said that I felt fine but that my voice just isn’t working right. He then said, “I was going to ask you to give the invocation. Can you do that?”

I told him that I was willing to do it, but that I was concerned that I would be hard to hear. A counselor in the presidency (my former bishop) joined us at this point. He already knew what we were discussing. He said that if I felt OK, he would like me to do it; just speak right into the microphone.

I agreed to it. How hard could it be? It is just a prayer. I have no fear of public speaking. I do have a little fear of drawing attention to the “prayer giver” and therefore away from the prayer, but it is smaller than my fear of “chickening out” of any request from leaders that I sustained.

I tell people all the time that I am doing better than I sound, and that is true. My vocal limitations are my most severe symptom, and perhaps misleading. But I haven’t had a chance to tell everyone, and I’ve lived in this area a long time. Would this prayer unnecessarily alarm them? Probably. Oh well. Sorry.

As the meeting began, I was reminded that this conference was being web cast to two other buildings. Great; even more people to confuse or alarm. Including the outgoing president, there were three general authorities there.

I couldn’t help thinking, “Is there not anyone else better suited to do this? Is not everyone better suited to do this?” The answer was “Of course, but that is not relevant.”

I also couldn’t help but wonder if the Lord could not just grant me a tiny two-minute remission; not for my sake but for the meeting's. Again the answer was “Of course, but you need to work through this, not around it.” If praying in public somehow stayed this insidious disease, I’d volunteer for every prayer. No, it doesn’t work that way. The degree to which I want to use my voice for noble or virtuous means does not justify symptom reversal. “Whole” cannot be a consequence of “Good.” (If that were true, President Young would have told us given us that counsel in the last General Conference.)

The prayer was short and strained, but otherwise uneventful. I am grateful for that. (Can you imagine how long this post would be had something interesting happened?)

I noted with some irony that our outgoing Stake President said that when he was called to be an Area Authority, in a moment of introspection he thought, “Aren’t others more righteous, more knowledgeable, or are better suited for this calling?” His answer was “Yes” also.

I know it is unfair to draw a parallel between saying a prayer in public and serving as an Area Authority but I'm just saying that there was a common denominator. 

When we were asked to raise our right hand as a vote of gratitude for service rendered by the outgoing presidency, I did, but noticed that my hand seemed heavy, as if somehow my vote of thanks was somehow facilitating their release. They are great men. The good news is the two of them were put in the new presidency. The slightly troubling news was that my current bishop was the third member of the new presidency. This time the sustaining hand was definitely heavy, and it wasn’t the MS or any reservations I had about the caliber of men being sustained. It was just that I was losing a good bishop.

Memory

My 8^th grade US History teacher explained something fantastic to us. He said that during the semester, each person in the class would learn to name every US President in order, AND know the year each took office. At that time there had been 39 Presidents. The class groaned.

I didn’t really mind because I had always pretty good about remembering useless trivia, but he continued, He said that it would be easy, he knew a few memorization tricks, and that without question, every student would get it down. It seemed kind of unbelievable. There were some real goofballs (and dimwits) in the class. Just then a an office aide entered the room with a note. She had taken this class the year before. To prove his point he said, Tracey, can you tell the class who was President after Martin Van Buren?” She didn’t blink and said, “Harrison.” He asked, “And what year did he take office?” She said, “Van Buren? 1833.”

That was incredible to me. How had he done this? Without going into detail, I will say that he made good on his promise. The mind is a curious thing. Over the past 30 years, I have taken on several memorization projects; more one a dare or a whim than for any practical purposes.

For example, during the Pokemon craze of 2000? 2001? My son and I decided to learn them all. 150 characters. In numerical order. It was fun. It seemed impractical and perhaps impossible, but the mind is a curious thing. We have since forgotten the sequence, but yesterday he brought up the memory of learning them together. Good times. Then he rattled of the first three, but then paused. #4 Charmander popped into my mind.

I’m not bragging. I remembered the fourth Pokemon! I am just marveling over how the mind can work, either with intentional or unintentional memorizations. After spending a year in Argentina I found that I had unwittingly linked many hymn titles to their corresponding hymn numbers. I never set out to do this, but after using the Spanish hymnal for a year, it was just there.

At various times I have committed to memory important things like passages of scripture, inspirational verse, and even The Proclamation to the World. My mind easily recalls many birthdays; I don’t even try. I recall less important things too, like Pokemon, US Presidential history, and certain baseball card numbers.

Having a “neurological disorder” that can affect cognizance and memory has spooked me, but so far I think my mind has been unaffected. In fact, just to stay sharp (and to give me something to do when I’m too tired to do anything but think) I have embarked on my largest memorization challenge to date: All 660 baseball cards from the 1973 set, of course. I got the idea last month when my brother-in-law was here and was looking through some old cards. Seeing one obscure, all but forgotten player he said, “Clyde Mashore.” The number #401 popped into my head. He tried another, but I didn’t know it. So I don’t really know what is up there. Having spent considerable time lately selling these cards individually has provided a “head start” but still, 660? Is it even possible to retain a list that long? That is like the US Presidents, but 17 times over.  I don’t know if it is possible, but I'm going to find out. I’m almost half way there.

I know; it is useless, other than as a diversion and to push the bounds of the mind. And, in the off-chance that you find yourself needing to know a 1973 card number, I’m your man!

Voracious

So far so good through this steroid conversion. It is nothing like the first time and actually I’m feeling pretty good. I do get really tired in the afternoons and early evenings, but it is nothing that a little rest can’t fix. My walking and mobility are definitely improved. I sometimes forget how tough the first few steps had been for a while. Now they’re not. Maybe I was in denial. I don’t know.

In any case I’m grateful for this remission, and for any contribution to it, prescription or otherwise. I am developing a taste for flax oil.

Another encouraging thing I’ve noticed is the return of my appetite. Over the last few years I’ve been hungry but not that often. Eating was more of a chore that I had to do to maintain energy. And I shed 50 pounds in the process. I started noticing this weekend that I was looking forward to meal time and that everything sounded so good! A can of tuna, a hard-boiled egg, everything. Yesterday it intensified and I ate a lot. I think it is a good sign. Not only am I really enjoying everything from pretzel sticks to flax-oil and peach yogurt, but if this trend continues maybe Kara will stop pestering me to buy new clothes.

Chubby Dave is on the mend!

Smooth Sailing

OK, I’m on the “done side” of another lesson. It wasn’t great but it was fine. The material is so powerful.

Happily I don’t have any tales to tell. It was just an uneventful lesson. It was good enough, which is great.  My voice held out well enough.

Hopefully the lesson I learned was to prepare, but not to stress out. I did fairly well this week just trying not to worry. There were a million things that could have gone wrong. None did. Coming off steroids? Yeah, I felt fine. What about…anything? You know, I can get pretty creative (and dramatic) dreaming up possible trouble.

I need to remind myself that it is just a lesson, not an event, and show more faith by not internalizing worry.

Mini Update

OK, five days of the intravenous steroids and it seemed to make a world of difference. I mean, my health still isn’t ideal, and my voice is as stained as ever, but I had so much more energy and even my walking is noticeably improved. I’m not like speedy Gonzalez or energy-man or anything but going from say, 20% of normal to 60% or 70% is indescribably. I was glad to have my arm back and not have to worry about the catheter. And there are side effects to such a powerful treatment, like even more difficulty sleeping, but I have enjoyed this respite and the conversion from IV to oral today seems to be going well. I am getting so much done!  I have to be careful though; my mind routinely overestimates my physical capacity.

Tomorrow is the big test. Day 2 off the steroids and teaching. Here’s looking forward to it!