Virtual-Doug

The Mom Report

When we’re born, we have nothing.  True enough, the logistics of toting an infant around are daunting – the little 12 pound bundle of joy requires about 30 pounds (or more) of “stuff”, such as diaper bags, formula, baby carrier, blankets, and other gear.  As the child gets older, the amount of “stuff” declines.

Using the simile that we are once an adult but twice a child, the same seems to apply in the elder years.  Mom needs very little “stuff” now.  She is in a new nursing home now and moving her was quite simple.  She got in the car and I put some “stuff” in the trunk – and that was it.  Later, we brought over a rocking chair, a television, and some clothing, but really, she has little “stuff” anymore.  When my priest offered his pickup truck to help with the move, I smiled as I knew her “stuff” wouldn’t even fill up my car.

(Be sure to click on each photo to see a larger version of the image.)

If you look closely at the bulletin board on the wall, you will notice some pictures on it.  Mom’s house is filled with photographs – photos of her and my father, of her and her children, of grandchildren – even great grand children.  In her photo albums we have at home, there are photos of herself, of her parents, and of her young family.  But that kind of “stuff” is superfluous now.  She can’t recollect the names of her grandchildren, though her own children’s names still bring a smile even if she can’t always remember them herself.

She has had a rough time during this move from the rehab unit to the nursing home.  I have learned that changes in routine are difficult for an Alzheimer’s victim.  While the Mystery Guest Blogger and I were in Việt Nam, her routine was changed, and even though my siblings filled in for us while we were gone (thanx again, Russ, Karen, and Martha) the change threw her off her routine.  We moved her last Tuesday, and by Wednesday, she was totally unable to cope.  She lapsed into a behavior I had seen once before, immediately after her surgery in January.  She lay in bed with her eyes closed, in what appeared to be sleep, then she would “talk” (mostly babbly, but some coherent words) and extend her arm and point at something she was seeing in her hallucinations.  There wasn’t much else for me to do except stand guard over her, hold her hand, and just be there for her to see when she awoke every now and then.

A few days later, the MGB snapped this of Mom and I sitting in the lobby watching the world go by.  She enjoyed the walk, and she tried hard to grasp what she saw around her. Experience has taught me that she will plateau, then in a few weeks, even rebound a little.

When you have a child, you have expectations – you expect your child to “grow out of it” and to grow physically as well as mentally.  We have those same expectations of ourselves as adults – we expect to learn from our mistakes, to earn a good living, and to contribute to the world.  It’s a habit we give ourselves willingly – to always have expectations.

Mom’s only expectations are mine – that she will be treated with dignity and respect.

One does not have the expectation that she will get better.

Above the Tree Line

The Mystery Guest Blogger and I are finally back home.  I thought I would post some more about the things we saw on the trip to Julie’s wedding.

If a drop of water falls on the east side of this sign, the water will eventually end up in the Atlantic Ocean.  Likewise, water that falls to the west of the sign will go to the Pacific Ocean.  That’s what the Continental Divide is – the high tops of the mountains that divide the North American continent’s watersheds.

(Be sure to click on the photos to see a larger version.)

This is Loveland Pass in the state of Colorado.  A “pass” is the lowest area between two mountains, so it is the logical place to build roads.  A lot of automobiles and trucks drive by this area every day.  As you can see, it is very high indeed – that’s about 4,000 meters high, and it is high enough so that the temperature in May is still cold enough for snow to stay on the ground.    Notice also that there are no trees.  Loveland Pass is above the tree line, which means it is too cold for trees to grow.  Remember too that there are mountain peaks nearby that are even higher – many above 14,000 feet. (4,700 meters)  This is truly beautiful country – a place where God lives.  Its another of those places I want to show my Vietnamese friends.  Thao Hien would see God’s hand at work here, and Le Ngoc would be awestruck, as would Chau and Giang, and Mai Trang, and Linh.

Just down the road on the west side of the pass is another of the many places in Colorado where people go skiing.  Most places are closed by May, but this is Arapahoe Basin, and it is well known for staying open late in the spring.  Notice the cars – folks park their cars, then walk over to the snow, put on their skis and take off.  For my Vietnamese friends, think of skiing as strapping boards to your feet and sliding down hill.

Mountains like these are what makes it difficult to explain the United States to my Vietnamese friends.   America is so large, and it has so many different kinds of scenery.  As another example of this diversity, we drove another three hours towards the west.  In the small city of Grand Junction, we stayed the night with a friend of many years – and this is what she sees from her front door.

This is just part of the America I want to show to my Vietnamese friends.  They have such a beautiful country, and I feel privileged to be a part of both countries.

The Wedding (the Real Wedding)

Julie Louis and Jon Lopez were married on a beautiful spring day in the Colorado mountain village of Breckenridge.  Though the ski runs were closed until next winter, there was still lots of snow on the mountains, which are over 3,000 meters high.  Julie wore the same wedding dress she wore for the mock wedding in Việt Nam.  (Some readers may not know that Julie was our teaching teammate when the Mystery Guest Blogger and I taught English at the University of Huê for 1 ½ years.  As a teaching tool for her American Culture course in April, 2006, she had her students organize an American wedding, with Julie as the bride.  Jon flew into Huê for a visit and was the groom.  See An American Wedding in Viet Nam.)

(As always, be sure to click on each picture to see a larger version.)

The wedding ceremony was performed in the Father Dyer Church, a picturesque little chapel founded by  an itinerant preacher who ministered to the coal miners and prospectors of the wild west days of the late 1890s.  In keeping with the elegant mood of the day, a horse drawn carriage carried the happy couple from the ceremony to the reception (party) at a nearby restaurant.

Julie’s love of Việt Nam is never far below the surface.  After all, she lived and taught in that country for 4 ½ years, speaks the language fluently, and has many friends there.  Two members of the bride’s party were Vietnamese – Hien is from a town near Hanoi and is now studying in America, and the Maid of Honor was Hanh, Julie’s best friend who still lives in Huê.  Hanh wore a traditional red Vietnamese wedding ao dai to the reception.  She also told the enthralled gathering at the reception of the traditions practiced at a Vietnamese wedding.  The bride and groom blended some traditions as well as they did the usual American ritual of  cutting the wedding cake and feeding the first bites to each other.  Jon was not the only male in an ao dai as I was also in mine  (Hey – its hard to take a picture of yourself) and the MGB wore her wedding ao dai.

At an American wedding, the bride and groom always share the first dance, but tradition also says that the bride’s father has the second dance.  Dale has been to Việt Nam on many occasions doing dental work for the people of the countryside.  Its obvious father and daughter are sharing some strong emotions as she moves on the another part of her life.

And the next part of her life will be sharing that life with her new husband.  They share a deep love for one another and they share a deep faith in God.  Those of us who know them wish Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Lopez all the best.  God bless their marriage. 

Cowboy Country

First, the news.

We made it from deep south Texas to my brother’s home in the suburbs of Denver after driving through some toad-choking rains and some misadventures with the car.  After a day of rest here, we’ll head up into the mountains for Julie’s wedding.

As we drove for those many hours (about 23 hours of driving time, plus one night’s sleep), we talked about our friends in Viet Nam.  We fantasized.  We dreamed.  We remembered Tuan’s look of incredulity when we mentioned automobiles routinely cruise at 120 kilometers per hour.  We remembered Trang’s fascination with cowboys.  We want to show them America.

Many readers may not know that the Mystery Guest Blogger and I used to live in New Mexico.  We can safely say our best friends are in Texas, but we love best the land of New Mexico.  It is a magic place.

How could anyone be less than awestruck to see the snowcapped peaks of the southern Rocky Mountains sparkling in the bright morning sun?  Even though we lived on this land for fifteen years, rounding a bend in the road to see the Sangre de Christo Range yesterday was as thrilling as the first time we’d seen them.  How I want to be the one who shows these to Ai Nhan – just so I can see the expression on her face.

(As always, be sure to click on each photo to see a larger version.)

We drove through cowboy country.  Not the “cowboys” of western movie fame who spent more time shooting their six-guns than roping cows, but cowboys who work from pickup trucks as well as horses in  a place where wide open spaces means just that – huge expanses of endless prairie interspersed with only the occasional barn or small herd of cattle.  Often a herd of pronghorn antelope mix in with the cows.  They nervously check out the stranger in the stopped car, then go back to munching on the fresh spring grass.  Seeing this, Trang could understand at a deeper level why cowboys learned to be self-reliant.

And Vi – the young lady with her great gift of languages.  Vi – who wants to be a journalist.  I want to  read the story she would write about this old abandoned homestead.  Who lived here once?  What happened that caused them to leave?  What tales of victory and defeat would Vi record?  All I want to do is show this place to her and let her do the rest.

I want to have my friend Cu with me.  I want to see how my gifted photographer friend will see this land that is so very different from his own.  What will his eyes see that mine do not?  I want to spend long days with him – just the two of us capturing America in our photography.

Cowboy country – just one of the many places that comprise the America I want my Vietnamese friends to see.

Hi/Bye

For our friends in Vietnam - yes, we made it home fine.

But - we'll still be out of circulation for awhile.  We are on the way to Colorado for the wedding of our teaching teamamte while we were in Hue - our friend Julie will marry Jon.  We would not think of missing it.

Yes - pictures and all that, but for now, its three long days on the road.

Tam Biet, Viet Nam

Sadness – and elation.

We have so many deep and abiding relationships here in Viet Nam and we let go of them slowly.  Hue is indeed our second home.

Yet relationships await back in America.  We are eager to see family and friends again, to eat familiar foods, and listen to our own music.

We know that, God willing, we will indeed be back to Hue.  The Mystery Guest Blogger has been asked to teach her English medical terminology course again, and I suppose MEDRIX will find something for me to do.

By the time this is posted, we will be on our way from Saigon to Tokyo on the first leg of our trip back to America.  We are comfortable in two cultures now – we are at home in both – so I won’t say we going home.  We’re just going back to our first home.

Until next time, Viet Nam.  Tam biet.