Homeward bound!

Cindy and I took a long weekend trip to visit our family in Nashville over the MLK Jr. holiday weekend. It was a busy few days filled with family, friends, music, art, and much humor. I will blog about the trip and the activities next time. For today I want to share some of my musings about home, specifically about returning home after a journey.

As comfortable as I am visiting new places, sleeping in unfamiliar accommodations, spending time with new friends, and making new acquaintances along the way. I was reminded that I am really a homebody. I love the familiar. Some might look at my life in Colorado and think that I am stuck in a rut. And, from a distance, I suppose it does look that way. However, I don't think that I/we are any different from most of the rest of the world. We live where we live because we like it. We do the things we do because it satisfies a hunger we feel. When that want changes, or we discover a new want in life we make adjustments and fall into a new pattern (rut).

As we boarded our flight to return to Denver I noticed that my attitude was changing. We had just said goodbye to our daughter (Stefanie), her husband (Matthew) and family (Michaela and Lucy) accompanied by the minor pain associated with the knowledge that we will not spend more time together for several months. When I realized that I was already beginning to shift back into my Colorado/work/relaxation mode. I had not noticed a shift as we headed toward Nashville and family, but did feel that change as we headed home.

The excitement grew as we returned to Denver International Airport and continued to build as we headed west in interstate 70 toward Grand Junction. By the time we exited the interstate and turned south toward our home in Montrose I was again energized by the familiar. Other parts of the country fascinate me. I want to know the history of places. I want to see the sights and experience what those places have to offer, but, that final turn toward home and what is familiar has always had a profound effect on me.
  

The lyrics for the song Homeward Bound by Marta Keen Thompson appear below. This is from the arrangement done for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir by Mack Wilberg. A beautifully performed piece that has made its way around the globe in many different interpretations. I have heard it performed by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir on Music and the Spoken Word and it is also available on youtube.com for you to enjoy.

On a quiet misty morning
When the moon has gone to bed,
When the sparrows stop their singing
And the sky is clear and red,

When the summer's ceased its gleaming
When the corn is past its prime,
When adventure's lost its meaning -
I'll be homeward bound in time

Bind me not to the pasture
Chain me not to the plow
Set me free to find my calling
And I'll return to you somehow

If you find it's me you're missing
If you're hoping I'll return,
To your thoughts I'll soon be listening,
And in the road I'll stop and turn

Then the wind will set me racing
As my journey nears its end
And the path I'll be retracing
When I'm homeward bound again

Bind me not to the pasture
Chain me not to the plow
Set me free to find my calling
And I'll return to you somehow

(softly)
On a quiet misty morning
When the moon has gone to bed,
When the sparrows stop their singing
I'll be homeward bound again.

That last line is a wonderful thought to me. "I'll be homeward bound again." The journey is always a joy the turn homeward is joyous for me. 

That is it for now. Thanks for checking in. More to come soon. See you then.

"I intend to live forever. So far, so good." Steven Wright

Yesterday was the anniversary of Mom's death. I know that many of you can relate to what I experienced throughout the day. Overall I would say that it was a good day.

As I was headed out the door to a church meeting in Delta, Colorado yesterday Cindy asked if I planned to go to the cemetery. I had not even considered the possibility. Since the previous evening I had pondered calling my Aunt (moms sister) to see how she was doing and to offer whatever comfort I could. I just had not made any definite plans for the day. While driving toward Delta I decided that I would attend my meetings for the morning and then drive on to Grand Junction and make a stop at Veterans Memorial Cemetery, then stop by my Aunt and Uncle's home to see how they are getting along, and then on the way home I would stop by the home of a friend who lost his father earlier last week. The plan was made.

It was a very good day in church with a lot of good fellowship and several very good messages shared in the leadership meetings prior to sacrament meeting. Followed by a couple of great messages in sacrament meeting. I then headed out to follow my plan.



I sat on the bench just in front of the niche marker and thought about all of the things that happened over the past year that she missed. All have been written about in previous posts though I will briefly mention some of the most notable. The birth of another great grand-daughter, the marriage of a grand-daughter, a graduation, and many others came to mind as I was sitting there. I stood after a time to enjoy the view of Colorado National Monument. Mom always thought the placement of Dad's remains was so appropriate since he had spent much of his youth living there. I wonder at the things that run through my mind in moments like this.

I left the cemetery and drove to my next destination where I was greeted warmly. My aunt had clearly had a difficult day but she was pleased that I stopped by for a visit. They were glad I had already stopped by the niche and asked about my family and how we are all doing. We talked some about the feelings and emotions of the previous evening and of the events of the same a year ago. It was good to spend the time with them.

The last stop on my journey was as uneventful and just as meaningful as the first two. I think it good to provide comfort and show concern for someone with whom you have shared similar experience. Grief manifests itself in many sundry ways and we each react according to our own belief and understanding. The comfort of friends, I think, is universal.

My brother posted on his Facebook wall yesterday of missing her in his life and of reaching for his phone from time to time with the thought of something he wanted to share with her. Followed by the abrupt realization that that was not a possibility. I too have those moments. Family members become such an important part of life that the reality of them not being available is difficult to always remember. Our daily interactions become almost automatic thus making them hard to do without.

She is missed.

Thanks for checking in. More to come soon. See you then.

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened" (Dr. Seuss - Theodor Geisel)

I love that quote from Theodor Geisel.

Even with several very low lows in 2013 I can take a few minutes to look back and smile at many things that occurred during the year. I have long suspected that one of the quirks of my personality that can be frustrating to Mrs. Mahan is that I do not spend a lot of time thinking about or dwelling upon the things that happened yesterday or last week. I try to quickly learn what I can from the day or week and move on to the next.

Some of the things that brought a smile to my face last year include a loss, a wedding, a graduation, a vacation, another wedding, and another granddaughter (number 7).

How in the world can the loss of my Mother (Betty Irene Mahan) bring a smile to my face? It is simple really - she lived for almost seven years without the love of her life (Dennis) and looked forward to the day when they could be reunited. That day came on January 12, 2013 very early in the morning. Yes, there were tears and sad moments associated with this loss. Yes, each holiday or event throughout the year brought a moment or two of missing her. Overall, though, I find a small smile on my face when I think of that reunion. One of our daughters (Lisa) wrote this on her blog shortly after Mom passed;

"In the summer of 2006, a few months after Gramps had passed away and my parents made the courageous decision to leave their home of 20+ years and move closer to their parents, I got to go for a drive alone with Gram after we had helped move my parents (and Kelli) into their new home. We chatted about lots of things, but the conversation turned quickly to relationships and finding the right person to spend eternity with. Gram's advice was to find someone who could make your knees go weak even after 50 years. She told me that with Gramps, sometimes when they were out and about he would catch her eye from across the room and wink at her. And my 67 year old Gram told me with her hand fluttering over her heart like a teenager that she would just turn a bit red and say, Oh, Dennis!

Gram had two of her sons, their spouses or loved ones, and all the Mahan grand kids to love and care for even without my Gramps, but we've all known that she would never be truly happy again until she was reunited with Gramps."

I smile and agree!

Our youngest was married in June of 2013. What a joyous occasion that was for our family. This was the only time we were all together during the year.

We had a great few days to renew our acquaintance and celebrate together. What a blessed few days. My sweet wife blogged about this with her year end post as follows:

"For the Mahans, the highlight of 2013 was Kelli's wedding.  On June 28, in the Mount Timpanogos temple in Utah, she married her best friend, Tyler Esplin.  Of course we were thrilled for them both, and just as thrilled for the opportunity to have everyone together.  As you can see, we are becoming quite the crowd.  These are the people that mean more to me than anything in this world."

I smile and agree!

Kelli (our youngest) graduated from Colorado Mesa University in December. Another smile. Cindy included this on her blog;

"...she graduated Magna Cum Laude with a degree in Elementary Education, Math emphasis.  The icing on the cake---she has been hired at New Emerson Elementary, where she did her student teaching, as the 5th grade Math teacher!  The 5th grade teachers job share, so it's a part-time position, but what a blessing!  Especially for a new college grad halfway through the school year!  She loves the school already..."

I smile, and agree!

Each year for the last 15, or so, we have taken as many of our family who are available to Mesa Lakes Resort or Powderhorn Resort on Grand Mesa over Labor Day weekend. This year we were few in number because of all the other events that involved family members through the summer months. It was a quiet relaxing weekend for me which allowed some much needed decompression and introspection. There may be prettier places on earth, but this one we have shared as a family through trial and joy.

The view from the top.

Our oldest (Jennifer) shared this comment on her blog;

"This year, at least a small some of us were able to make the trip for our usual weekend. It was a small group. Really small, but it was so good to get away. As usual, turning into the long drive leading up to the condos, my jaw loosened, my grip became less white knuckle, and I am pretty sure my heartbeat evened and slowed a bit. I love this place. More importantly, I love the people with whom I share this place."

I smile and agree!

When our son (Adam) was at the Language Training Center in Monterey, CA while serving in the Marine Corps he met another Marine named Matt Thorne. They became good friends. Matt became an honorary member of the Mahan gang and his wedding this summer was quite the event. Holly wrote about it in her blog:

"When my brother was in the Marines he met a man named Matt. He brought him to Powderhorn to meet us and he joined our family. Matt got married in New Jersey in August, so Eric, Mom, Adam, and I were able to attend. It was a great excuse to make a trip to NYC."

"The wedding festivities were everything I hoped they would be. We got to sit and listen to Matt tell the many adventures of his dad, the bear whisperer and other stories. The wedding was a fusion of Jewish and Christian tradition. I am grateful to the bride and groom for letting us be part of their day."

I smile and agree! (There are photos - I cannot locate any to post here).

Much has been shared about Mara Mahan Guzman so I will just comment that we are so fortunate to have all these beautiful, healthy granddaughters. Including this newest addition.

 Many other events transpired in 2013 and I am looking forward to another fantastic year filled with joys, sorrows, and many in-betweens. 

Thanks for checking in. More to come soon. See you then.

"If music be the food of love, play on." William Shakespeare

A question for you all. Which of the following am I going to play this evening at my home?

Trumpet, Clarinet, Piano, Accordion, French Horn, Flute, or Xylophone. One of these musical instruments is more familiar to me than the others. I started learning how to play this instrument in 4th or 5th grade. Reggie Everett may remember when better than I do because he played the same at about the same time.

If you guessed (or already knew) the accordion you would be correct. I really wanted to play a horn but my pediatrician did not think it wise since asthma had become a part of my life and my parents agreed with him that I should not even try. My little brother had already expressed an interest in the piano so I ruled that idea out pretty quickly. Reggie showed me the accordion that he had just started learning to play and I was hooked. It looked fun, and I learned that it was a lot of fun to play. It also is a wind instrument though you deliver the air through the movement of bellows rather than from your own lungs.

They say that confession is good for the soul; so a little confessing is needed here. I worked hard at learning how to play for the first 2 or 3 years and then kind of just went through the motions with this instrument. I had discovered a talent for singing that required a lot less effort and was a lot sexier than strapping an accordion onto your chest (I had also reached an age when that was important). There must be places where this musical instrument is appreciated, but where I lived then and now it is not.

"One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain." (Bob Marley)

By the time my voice began changing I had kind of backed off from playing the accordion each day. I think I probably practiced on the day after my weekly lesson and maybe on the day before the following lesson. I know I was singing every day. In my bedroom, in the basement, in school (choir), in the back yard, in the car, anywhere music could be heard I was singing. By the time I was 14 I had pretty well stopped playing the accordion. I do, on occasion, pick it up and play some of those long forgotten, but easy to play with music in front of me, songs learned in my youth. My biggest regret musically is that I allowed the fact that my brother played the piano keep me from learning. I do sit at the piano from time to time and bang out a Hymn. But not well. Perhaps my time to learn is yet to come.

I still sing in the car, in church, and occasionally in my home. But, again, not as often or as much as in the days of youth. That needs to change. My children and grand children need to hear my voice and learn to have music as a very large part of their lives. Oh, their parents sing to them and with them so I know they have music in their daily example. Some of them even have parents who sing professionally so they hear music in their homes all the time. They even get to see and hear their parents on stage in and around Nashville, TN from time to time. But they still need to hear my voice and the emotion that it expresses regarding life. I'll keep working on that.

"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent" (Victor Hugo).

A great truth.

I know for me emotion flows much more easily through musical expression than in any other way.

Thanks for checking in. More to come soon. See you then.  

"Aging can be fun if you lay back and enjoy it" (Clint Eastwood)

Recently one of the men that I associate with at church extended an invitation to participate in their weekly basketball workout in a neighboring community. I quickly assured him that while there was a day when I would have gladly joined them, it would not be happening any time from now until forever. Ah, to be young again.

When I was a young fellow I enjoyed extended physical activity. It was nothing for me to get on my bicycle mid-morning pedal to Big Salt Wash where my friends and I would pedal up and down the trails all morning long. We might ride home long enough to grab some lunch then ride over to the local pool for a few hours of swimming. And then home long enough to have a snack before heading over to the baseball diamond for a practice or evening game. Non-stop activity and seemingly never ending fun. Now as an older fellow I get tired just thinking about doing something like that.

Well into my twenties I remember being game for just about any physical activity - and having the strength and energy to participate fully. I could work hard on any day of the week and return home with enough left to play softball, basketball, ride a bike or strap on the roller blades and go for an energetic workout. Sometime in my middle thirties I realized that it had been a few years since I had participated in those kinds of physical activities and decided that I needed to make the time to "get back in shape".

Basketball was always my game of choice when I desired a physical challenge, and our Church had a somewhat organized league that the younger (and even a few older) men participated in. They were always looking for recruits so I determined that I would join them. Usually they held a practice on Wednesday evening at 9:00 pm with games each Saturday morning. The week I decided to give it a whirl I was unable to attended the weeknight practice, but decided that I would go play on Saturday anyway. I remember running down the court for the first time in several years. It felt good. I had forgotten how much fun it was to be part of an activity like this - part of a team. After we scored, the run back to the other end of the court was not as comfortable as the first time down the floor. After the other team scored I tossed the ball onto the playing surface and started to run back down the court, I looked down at my legs and saw that they were still there but they felt different. It seemed to me as if someone sneaked into the gymnasium and filled my legs with lead. It was all I could  do to slowly (and I mean slowly) lumber down the court to the other end.

As soon an there was a whistle stopping play I called for a substitute to relieve me for a few minutes. I sat on one of the metal chairs that served as our bench, turned to look at my wife for some sympathy, and saw her chuckling at what she saw. I said, "Its not funny, someone put concrete in my legs". She and her friends laughed all the harder - you see they remembered the much younger nearly invincible me from a few years earlier. I realized that those years of not participating because of work and other commitments had really taken a toll on me. As I watched my friends who had not stopped playing ball continue to run up and down the court I regretted the inactivity.

Oh, don't misunderstand me, it was still fun. The first time or two up and down the court each week were very enjoyable and the number of times that the court could be traveled without loss of feeling in my legs increased weekly. Just not a return to the youthful, strength-filled days. I just might have to give it a go again sometime in the future. I'm sure if I take the next few years to get myself in shape again I will be able to play with the young guys in Delta. Though I don't think I would bet on it.

Thanks for checking in. More to come soon. See you then.

This is the season!

John F. Kennedy is quoted as saying, "As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them."

We leave it to others to judge whether our lives reflect the wisdom shared in this quote.

I know others who do live by this precept, and recognize in their lives a greater peace than I sometimes feel in my life. I remember a day in our young married life, when listening to a radio program, someone made a comment during this season of the year that gave me pause. I do not recall who nor do I have the exact example shared but, I remember the feeling that we (my family) could do some simple things to express our gratitude for some of the folks who influenced our lives.

We discussed the idea a few days later and determined a simple note passed along to each of the teachers our school aged children encountered each day/week would be a good place to start. My sweetheart took on the task (at the time we had at least 2 possibly 3 in school) of writing an expression of thanks that would be shared with those charged with the education of our children. I read each as my name was added at the bottom of each card and realized that Cindy was far better equipped to express what we had discussed for each. 

I remember the first time I realized the impact of those simple expressions of gratitude. With several children in school we could not always meet together (as parents) with each teacher during parent teacher conferences - we had to divide and conquer, if you will. I met that year with Beth Knutson and as she realized whose dad I was she teared up and let me know how much the kind words meant to her at that time in her career. There have been others over the years but this experience set in my mind the value of this interaction.

"Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it" (William Arthur Ward).

Each evening as I return to our home I am greeted by a couple characters who are always so glad to see me. Grateful that I have once again returned to our shared domicile; where we care for and love one another. Their tails wag, their bodies convey every emotion they feel. The animals we have had in our lives have probably showed me some of the greatest examples of how to express, without reservation, love and gratitude. What a blessing to my family and to me. 

"If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans" (James Herriot). 

A short post today. Thanks for checking in. More to come soon. See you then.

Not sure why. Just feel this should be shared.

Following my By-pass surgery March 1, 2011 I had about a month of recuperation before returning to work. During that time I was reminded that there were many things that I had experienced in my life that I had not shared with family members as we grew up together. Not sure if I thought they were not important enough to record in a journal, or not significant to forming who I had become over the years; or if there was some other reason that led me to just keep them in the vault of my mind without concerning myself with recording them in any fashion.

Following the surgery in 2011 I tried to get into the habit of sending more frequent e-mails to my children and their spouses filling them in on the happenings at home and sharing an occasional tale from my younger years. One day toward the end of March 2011 I decided to indulge in a stop at the local Taco Bell franchise for lunch. After ordering I noticed a friend sitting alone at a table and walked over to greet him. He invited me to join him, so I did. We talked about my recent surgery and about some of the goings on in his (and his family) life - just enjoying a few minutes together as friends with many common interests.

One of the things I shared with him was the thought process behind the e-mails I had recently started to send frequently to my family. He said something that I will not soon forget with regard to those missives. He said "I hope they are saving those e-mailed stories, there may come a day when that is the only record they have of your life." He then went on to tell me this experience. (I'm paraphrasing now because there is to much) When he was 16 years old he was given an assignment to interview an older individual to learn about some of the things that had changed in the world in their lifetime. At about the same time of this assignment his Mother was diagnosed with cancer - so he asked his teacher if it would be okay for him to interview her instead of someone older. The teacher agreed. He thoughtfully prepared his questions and interviewed her using a cassette tape to record the interview so he would not miss anything as he wrote his report.

His Mom died within two years of that event and now the recording made as he interviewed her is the only record he has of her life and voice. He reiterated to me what a great idea it was for me to share those experiences with my family and expressed a desire to do something similar for his family.

Jim Rohn shared this quote often;

"Journal writing is one of the greatest indications that you're a serious student. 
Taking pictures, that is pretty easy. 
Buying a book at a book store, that's pretty easy. 
It is a little more challenging to be a student of your own life, your own future, your own destiny. 
Take the time to keep notes and to keep a journal. You'll be so glad you did. 
What a treasure to leave behind when you go. 
What a treasure to enjoy today!"

I hope there is value here for any who might read these words. I am not an expert in living a better life, but do know that we often touch others by our words and actions. Even small things might make a difference to someone. 

Thanks for checking in. More to come soon.