My mom’s only sibling, her sister, died recently. Aunt Geri was the last of her generation on the Gretzer side of the family.
When I was telling my brother Rick about Aunt Geri he was reflecting on days gone by. He said, “When I was a little kid I always thought Aunt Geri was kind of crotchety. But when I visited her in my 20’s, she was pretty nice.”
I thought the same. When you consider that Aunt Geri was married to Uncle Eddie, a very gregarious man, and had five sons who take after their father, who could blame her for being crotchety? She was outnumbered 6 to 1. And when her sister and family came to visit, the odds weren’t any better. Our family had six children, one girl and five boys. Come to think of it, my mom was crotchety too. It was quite a sight, two mothers having to deal with all those boys. I would feel sorry for Aunt Geri and Mom but I think they won the battle. The ten of us boys turned out okay, despite our efforts to the contrary.
My earliest memory of Aunt Geri was on a visit to the Gretzer family house in Council Bluffs. It was a grand old house with lots of family running about. Aunt Geri and Uncle Eddie, the boys, our grandmother, great-aunt and great-grandmother all lived there. We were visiting one summer and after a hard day of playing and staying up past our bedtime, Aunt Geri was trying to get my cousin Tim and me to settle down and go to sleep. We finally did, but we tried Aunt Geri’s patience as best we could before she eventually won out. Strong and determined to get done what must be done, Aunt Geri prevailed.
Like my brother Rick, when I visited as an adult I saw Aunt Geri in a different light. I had just turned 20 and had quit school. The draft was in effect and I had opted to enlist in the Air Force. I was telling Aunt Geri and her son Tom about it. Tom, who had been in the Navy, urged me to do something else. Aunt Geri said to Tom, “Let him do what he wants.” What she didn’t say to me but what I heard was, “It’s your decision and we love you!” There was no judgment, just unconditional love.” I never told her how much I appreciated that. Instead, I told her one of my favorite dirty jokes. Aunt Geri had this absolutely marvelous laugh! Such a different woman from when we were little kids with 4th grade bathroom humor and she would have to scold us for our behavior.
Aunt Geri was what I call a tough old bird. She was part of a generation that lived through the Depression, fought in World War II and raised a passel load of kids in a post war economy. You had to be tough to survive those events.
About 10 years ago, my mom showed me a picture of Aunt Geri. She was elegantly dressed and looking deep into the camera. Mom says, “Doesn’t Aunt Geri look just like a southern matriarch!” She did indeed. And you don’t mess with a southern matriarch or a tough old bird. I found this out the hard way.
There is an old family photo of Mom and Aunt Geri when they were little girls. It hung in the grand old house in a place of honor. On one visit, looking at the picture, I asked Aunt Geri, “How much older than Mom are you?” I didn’t make that mistake again. However, I did set my younger brothers up for a similar experience in the ensuing years by getting them to ask the same question. They needed to know Aunt Geri’s tougher side. But even after the obligatory fuming over our insolence, there was always a glimmer in Aunt Geri’s eye that told you that you really weren’t in trouble.
With Aunt Geri’s going home to God, we cousins are now the older generation and my sister Kathy is the oldest of the Gretzer women. The next generation, the younger generation, has a few more women in it than ours and the torch is being passed to them.
I have a hope for you ladies in the next generation with that Maloney/Gretzer blood flowing in your veins. It is simply this; I hope you have qualities like Aunt Geri.
I hope you are crotchety, that you have dealt with the ups and downs of life and have survived. You will have earned the right to be crotchety.
I hope you are strong and determined and getting done the things in life that need to be done. The world needs your strength and determination.
And I hope that when your own children and nieces and nephews mess with you and test your patience that you have that glimmer in your eye and the unconditional love that Aunt Geri showed me. They need to know your joy, your guidance and your love.
There is sadness in my heart now that Aunt Geri is gone from this world. But there is great joy as well. Aunt Geri and Uncle Eddie are together again, holding each other close and resting comfortably in God’s loving embrace.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
REMEMBER WHEN
Remember when you could kiss the owie and make it all better?
One of the most powerful forces in the universe is the parent of a toddler. Whenever there is a pinched finger, a stubbed toe, or a bonked head, a parent can provide an instant cure. A simple kiss on the owie eases the pain. A little cuddling in mom or dad’s arms with blankie in hand seals the cure. Sometimes a cartoon character Band-Aid is added for that cherry on top feeling of satisfaction. Wipe a few tears away, kiss the owie and the child is ready to take on the world yet again.
As a parent, you cannot be more powerful, compassionate or wise. All in a simple act. King Solomon has nothing on the parent of a toddler.
But one day, that all ends. Somehow the days have passed and your toddler is no longer. Your child moves into adolescence and then into adulthood. Somewhere around the fourth grade your child learned that you are not invincible and all wise. You learned that you can’t cure all that ails your child.
The only problem with that passage of time is that the owies continue into adulthood. If only the adult owies were as easy to fix as the childhood owies. The adult owies are more dramatic and rarely involve a pinched finger or stubbed toe. What ails your adult child is life, adult decisions, problems and issues that hurt the ego and the psyche. As a parent you can’t fix those things. You can only listen, offer a shoulder to cry on when needed and shed a few tears with your child. You ache when your child aches.
If only the adult owies were as easy to fix as the childhood owies. If only you could kiss the owie and make it all better.
One of the most powerful forces in the universe is the parent of a toddler. Whenever there is a pinched finger, a stubbed toe, or a bonked head, a parent can provide an instant cure. A simple kiss on the owie eases the pain. A little cuddling in mom or dad’s arms with blankie in hand seals the cure. Sometimes a cartoon character Band-Aid is added for that cherry on top feeling of satisfaction. Wipe a few tears away, kiss the owie and the child is ready to take on the world yet again.
As a parent, you cannot be more powerful, compassionate or wise. All in a simple act. King Solomon has nothing on the parent of a toddler.
But one day, that all ends. Somehow the days have passed and your toddler is no longer. Your child moves into adolescence and then into adulthood. Somewhere around the fourth grade your child learned that you are not invincible and all wise. You learned that you can’t cure all that ails your child.
The only problem with that passage of time is that the owies continue into adulthood. If only the adult owies were as easy to fix as the childhood owies. The adult owies are more dramatic and rarely involve a pinched finger or stubbed toe. What ails your adult child is life, adult decisions, problems and issues that hurt the ego and the psyche. As a parent you can’t fix those things. You can only listen, offer a shoulder to cry on when needed and shed a few tears with your child. You ache when your child aches.
If only the adult owies were as easy to fix as the childhood owies. If only you could kiss the owie and make it all better.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
A MAN'S HOME IS HIS CASTLE
There was a time when that was true. Not any more.
A man in his home would have a place of refuge from the world. He could hide from the worries of life, safe and secure with his wife and children by his side. His home provided a place to ward off the marauding hordes of Visigoths and Huns, Barbarians and Mongols, Indians and desperados, traveling missionaries and cable TV representatives.
But not all dangers are outside the walls of a man’s castle. Some rise up unexpectedly from within. Thanks to the Internet and Facebook there are dangers that can separate a man from his family; from his wife, from his son, and from his daughter who has her own castle.
My wife is on Facebook and some friend invited her to play a game on the net. That in itself is not bad but my wife has shared that interest with others. Now our daughter is playing the game. But worse than that, right here in my so called castle, our son has joined in.
I am not part of the group. I am an outcast in my own castle. My wife and son sit on the couch playing the game and discussing strategies, sending information and game pieces filled with energies and potions to other gamers. While my wife and son are bonding in their shared love of the game, and my daughter is joining in from the other side of town, I wonder if this digital intruder can be driven from my castle.
I don’t know that the intruder, this game they play, can be defeated. All I can do is sit in the living room and listen to the plotting and planning as they build whatever they are building.
The website for the game they are playing has this promotion:
Create your Happy Ending
Build your very own Kingdom in a magical land.
Banish the Gloom and nasty Beasties while you’re at it.
While they are building their CastleVille, my castle walls are crumbling around me. John Wayne and Fess Parker had a better chance of defeating Santa Anna at the Alamo than I do in banishing the Gloom and nasty Beasties from my castle.
Bring on the marauding hordes! The enemy I can see…
A man in his home would have a place of refuge from the world. He could hide from the worries of life, safe and secure with his wife and children by his side. His home provided a place to ward off the marauding hordes of Visigoths and Huns, Barbarians and Mongols, Indians and desperados, traveling missionaries and cable TV representatives.
But not all dangers are outside the walls of a man’s castle. Some rise up unexpectedly from within. Thanks to the Internet and Facebook there are dangers that can separate a man from his family; from his wife, from his son, and from his daughter who has her own castle.
My wife is on Facebook and some friend invited her to play a game on the net. That in itself is not bad but my wife has shared that interest with others. Now our daughter is playing the game. But worse than that, right here in my so called castle, our son has joined in.
I am not part of the group. I am an outcast in my own castle. My wife and son sit on the couch playing the game and discussing strategies, sending information and game pieces filled with energies and potions to other gamers. While my wife and son are bonding in their shared love of the game, and my daughter is joining in from the other side of town, I wonder if this digital intruder can be driven from my castle.
I don’t know that the intruder, this game they play, can be defeated. All I can do is sit in the living room and listen to the plotting and planning as they build whatever they are building.
The website for the game they are playing has this promotion:
Create your Happy Ending
Build your very own Kingdom in a magical land.
Banish the Gloom and nasty Beasties while you’re at it.
While they are building their CastleVille, my castle walls are crumbling around me. John Wayne and Fess Parker had a better chance of defeating Santa Anna at the Alamo than I do in banishing the Gloom and nasty Beasties from my castle.
Bring on the marauding hordes! The enemy I can see…
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
DO YOUR EARS HANG LOW?
Almost three months have passed since I got my hearing aids. Time flies when you’re having fun? Or maybe it flies because now I can hear.
The morning of the 19th of April I went to the audiologist for my new ears. The first 45 minutes were spent learning about the devices, proper maintenance and how to insert them. “Stick it in your ear!”, takes on a whole new meaning.
Once I had shown the audiologist that I could insert and remove the hearing aids without asking for help, he hooked me up to his computer.
He clipped a transmitter, with a blinking red light, around my neck. It links to the hearing aids and sends the signal to the computer. While the transmitter is operational, the audiologist has complete control over my hearing aids. So I am sitting in the chair with a transmitter hanging from my neck feeling like I was one of the androids in the Star Trek episode, “I, Mudd”. “Harcourt Fenton Mudd!”
Once the transmitter, hearing aids and computer were linked, the audiologist started pushing buttons on his computer and sound came into my ears. Magically. All sorts of beeps and blips and burps. When the audiologist was satisfied that I was hearing and that the sound was balanced I was free to take on the world of those who hear. He promised me that I would hate him for the next two weeks as I tried to get used to the hearing aids. (I made it until 4 that afternoon. I was back at the audiologist’s office to have him turn the volume down. It was too loud and he had set it at 80% of full volume. He turned it down to 75%.)
When I left the audiologist that morning I headed to my wife’s school to see her. I figured I owed her the first hearing. She saw me coming to the front door of the school and met me there. “What are you doing here? Oh! Your hearing aids!” She checked out my new ears and gave her approval. Then, just to make sure that the hearing aids were working in the real world, I had my wife say something to me at a close distance and again at about 15 feet away. I closed my eyes and she spoke in a quiet voice. I heard her!
I didn’t respond with, “What?” I answered her statement. She said, “It is sunny outside.” I said, “Yes, it is.” I should have repeated her statement to just prove that I heard her exact words. It turned out okay, though. I scored big points by going to see, and hear, her first.
My daughter, always a person of great insight, had this to say on her Facebook page, “My Dad is getting hearing aids today. Somehow I think this makes him terribly adorable. He'll hate hearing that.” Her cousin responded with, “At least he will be able to hear it.”
The two most important women in my life are pleased with my having hearing aids. My wife thinks I’m sweet and my daughter thinks I am terribly adorable. Life is good.
I have been back to the audiologist several times to get my ears tweaked. The hearing is better each time and I have graduated to Remote Control Operator: Level IV. I have the basic volume control and three new buttons for controlling range, direction and effects of the sounds coming at me. This means I get to listen to whomever and whatever I want!
Learning to hear again is an interesting experience. I had forgotten so many sounds. They are coming back to me now and they are wonderful. Birds really do sing pretty in the early morning hours!
The morning of the 19th of April I went to the audiologist for my new ears. The first 45 minutes were spent learning about the devices, proper maintenance and how to insert them. “Stick it in your ear!”, takes on a whole new meaning.
Once I had shown the audiologist that I could insert and remove the hearing aids without asking for help, he hooked me up to his computer.
He clipped a transmitter, with a blinking red light, around my neck. It links to the hearing aids and sends the signal to the computer. While the transmitter is operational, the audiologist has complete control over my hearing aids. So I am sitting in the chair with a transmitter hanging from my neck feeling like I was one of the androids in the Star Trek episode, “I, Mudd”. “Harcourt Fenton Mudd!”
Once the transmitter, hearing aids and computer were linked, the audiologist started pushing buttons on his computer and sound came into my ears. Magically. All sorts of beeps and blips and burps. When the audiologist was satisfied that I was hearing and that the sound was balanced I was free to take on the world of those who hear. He promised me that I would hate him for the next two weeks as I tried to get used to the hearing aids. (I made it until 4 that afternoon. I was back at the audiologist’s office to have him turn the volume down. It was too loud and he had set it at 80% of full volume. He turned it down to 75%.)
When I left the audiologist that morning I headed to my wife’s school to see her. I figured I owed her the first hearing. She saw me coming to the front door of the school and met me there. “What are you doing here? Oh! Your hearing aids!” She checked out my new ears and gave her approval. Then, just to make sure that the hearing aids were working in the real world, I had my wife say something to me at a close distance and again at about 15 feet away. I closed my eyes and she spoke in a quiet voice. I heard her!
I didn’t respond with, “What?” I answered her statement. She said, “It is sunny outside.” I said, “Yes, it is.” I should have repeated her statement to just prove that I heard her exact words. It turned out okay, though. I scored big points by going to see, and hear, her first.
My daughter, always a person of great insight, had this to say on her Facebook page, “My Dad is getting hearing aids today. Somehow I think this makes him terribly adorable. He'll hate hearing that.” Her cousin responded with, “At least he will be able to hear it.”
The two most important women in my life are pleased with my having hearing aids. My wife thinks I’m sweet and my daughter thinks I am terribly adorable. Life is good.
I have been back to the audiologist several times to get my ears tweaked. The hearing is better each time and I have graduated to Remote Control Operator: Level IV. I have the basic volume control and three new buttons for controlling range, direction and effects of the sounds coming at me. This means I get to listen to whomever and whatever I want!
Learning to hear again is an interesting experience. I had forgotten so many sounds. They are coming back to me now and they are wonderful. Birds really do sing pretty in the early morning hours!
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
EARS TWO
I went out for my morning constitutional about 5 o’clock. The air is finally full of that early morning springtime crisp, cool air that allows sounds to travel well. The birds are singing to greet the day. It is, as Neil diamond says, a beautiful noise.
I wonder though, “What I am missing?” Since my visit to the audiologist last week I have been more aware of what I have missed from the high frequency sounds of life. Tomorrow morning will be different as I will have my new ears in then. Will there be more beautiful noises from the birds? Or will there be all sorts of background sounds that I haven’t heard from some time? It is all unknown.
Sleep last night consisted of a lot of tossing and turning. Worry about the visit to the audiologist this morning kept me from useful slumber. I am sitting here now, yawning up a storm I cannot hear. Maybe tomorrow I will be more alert, not yawning and hearing more. I have been told that I will sleep tonight. I will be exhausted from the work of listening to all those noises and sounds I have forgotten that existed.
In a few more hours I will have my new ears. The sounds I am looking to hearing the most are the ones from my wife. I will be able to have a conversation with her that doesn’t begin with my asking, “What?!”
I wonder though, “What I am missing?” Since my visit to the audiologist last week I have been more aware of what I have missed from the high frequency sounds of life. Tomorrow morning will be different as I will have my new ears in then. Will there be more beautiful noises from the birds? Or will there be all sorts of background sounds that I haven’t heard from some time? It is all unknown.
Sleep last night consisted of a lot of tossing and turning. Worry about the visit to the audiologist this morning kept me from useful slumber. I am sitting here now, yawning up a storm I cannot hear. Maybe tomorrow I will be more alert, not yawning and hearing more. I have been told that I will sleep tonight. I will be exhausted from the work of listening to all those noises and sounds I have forgotten that existed.
In a few more hours I will have my new ears. The sounds I am looking to hearing the most are the ones from my wife. I will be able to have a conversation with her that doesn’t begin with my asking, “What?!”
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
'EARS TO YOU!
“You have ears to hear but you hear not!,” Father Ignatius would tell us in English class when we asked what the assignment for tomorrow was just moments after he had told us what the assignment for tomorrow was.
My wife thinks like Father Ignatius. She believes I can’t hear; that I am losing my hearing. My children will tell you that I just don’t listen.
It doesn’t matter. I get my new ears next Tuesday. A new one for each side of my head.
I spent two hours at the audiologist this morning. I was there to keep my wife happy and to prove to her that my hearing is fine and that she needs to speak up. She is right, I am wrong.
The testing proves that I can hear lower frequencies. It is the higher frequencies that I do not hear. Female voices. No wonder my wife thinks I can’t hear her. I can’t.
When the audiologist said he had a variety of hearing aids for me to choose from I immediately thought of the huge, flesh colored molds that fit in your ear and have size ‘D’ batteries attached to the back of your ears. A passing thought, fortunately. Analog is dead! I am getting the top of the line digital hearing aids. The particular model I am getting will best suit what I am doing work wise as well as listening to my wife wise. And it comes with a remote. I can casually slip my hand into my pocket and turn the hearing aids, and the speaker, off.
The audiologist is giving me (supplying, at a nominal cost) hearing aids that go into the ear tube but do not block it. My ability to hear the lower frequencies is fine and he doesn't want to interfere with that. And, with all these new techno things, he can adjust for all sorts of gain and frequency and hertz. The only real hurts that he can't fix will be how my pocketbook hurts.
My wife says she is excited for me. She says I won’t be so cranky because I can’t hear her. I figure she won’t be so cranky that I’m cranky because I can’t hear her.
I asked my wife if she would still love me with my hearing aids. She said she would love me even more. Gee, if I had known that…
My wife thinks like Father Ignatius. She believes I can’t hear; that I am losing my hearing. My children will tell you that I just don’t listen.
It doesn’t matter. I get my new ears next Tuesday. A new one for each side of my head.
I spent two hours at the audiologist this morning. I was there to keep my wife happy and to prove to her that my hearing is fine and that she needs to speak up. She is right, I am wrong.
The testing proves that I can hear lower frequencies. It is the higher frequencies that I do not hear. Female voices. No wonder my wife thinks I can’t hear her. I can’t.
When the audiologist said he had a variety of hearing aids for me to choose from I immediately thought of the huge, flesh colored molds that fit in your ear and have size ‘D’ batteries attached to the back of your ears. A passing thought, fortunately. Analog is dead! I am getting the top of the line digital hearing aids. The particular model I am getting will best suit what I am doing work wise as well as listening to my wife wise. And it comes with a remote. I can casually slip my hand into my pocket and turn the hearing aids, and the speaker, off.
The audiologist is giving me (supplying, at a nominal cost) hearing aids that go into the ear tube but do not block it. My ability to hear the lower frequencies is fine and he doesn't want to interfere with that. And, with all these new techno things, he can adjust for all sorts of gain and frequency and hertz. The only real hurts that he can't fix will be how my pocketbook hurts.
My wife says she is excited for me. She says I won’t be so cranky because I can’t hear her. I figure she won’t be so cranky that I’m cranky because I can’t hear her.
I asked my wife if she would still love me with my hearing aids. She said she would love me even more. Gee, if I had known that…
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
BREAKFAST OUT
This morning, just to have some fun by myself, for myself, I went out for breakfast that I didn’t have to fix at a local old-fashioned restaurant, one with a counter. I decided to sit at the counter, just to be old-fashioned. There are six stools and I chose on from the end of the counter. That put stools between me and the patron at the other end of the counter.
My wife doesn’t know I went out to breakfast without her.
After I had ordered, an older gentleman in his eighties sat down on the stool next to me. So much for creating my own little space.
He was all by himself. I began to wonder. Was he out for breakfast without his wife? Was his wife was still alive. I soon found out.
The man’s cell phone rang. I heard his side of the conversation.
“Hello?”
“No, she isn’t in right now.”
“Can I take a message?”
“Then I will have her call you.”
Ain’t technology grand? I found out that his wife is alive and she definitely wasn’t in right now. The gentleman was telling the truth.
My wife doesn’t know I went out to breakfast without her.
After I had ordered, an older gentleman in his eighties sat down on the stool next to me. So much for creating my own little space.
He was all by himself. I began to wonder. Was he out for breakfast without his wife? Was his wife was still alive. I soon found out.
The man’s cell phone rang. I heard his side of the conversation.
“Hello?”
“No, she isn’t in right now.”
“Can I take a message?”
“Then I will have her call you.”
Ain’t technology grand? I found out that his wife is alive and she definitely wasn’t in right now. The gentleman was telling the truth.
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