Category: Family

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I’m Such A Nerd About Elections

I’m enthralled with all the twists and speed bumps of elections. Skitter and I have been flipping through channels, following the melodrama of vote-counting from oodles of different political bents. We, here at TIE O’ THE DAY, are remaining relatively calm and patient, confident that the United States of America will survive intact—no matter who ends up driving the bigly bus. I am confident of it because it is we, the people, who are the country.

Besides, waiting a few days for election results is a cinch. In 2000, Grandma Anderson was living at the Sands. She was 91. She had fallen there one day, breaking both a hip and a shoulder. When she was released from the hospital a few weeks after her tumble, she returned to her little apartment in the Sands, but she needed constant care. She was waiting for a spot to open up for her in the care center, where she could have 24-hour, trained care for the rest of her life. But until the care center had room for her, someone from the family was always on duty in her apartment to tend to her needs. I stayed with her most nights.The Gore/Bush election took place that November. A few days after the election, Grandma began asking me who our new president was. I explained that Gore got the most votes, but Bush was most likely going to be the President. Try explaining the Electoral College and “hanging chads” to your grandma when she’s 91. And soon I had to explain why the Supreme Court was involved in the decision, and so on.

Every night, I’d go to Grandma’s for our sleeping party so I could be there if she needed something. Usually, she just needed a bowl of Cheetos. Every morning, almost the first question out of Grandma was, “Do we have a President yet?” And every evening when I showed up for our sleepover, her question was, “Do we have a president yet?” That went on for oh-so-many mornings and evenings. I was getting a bit irritated with the question, as well as with the whole president-in-limbo thing.

Weeks after the 2000 election, on December 12, when I showed up for my “Grandma shift,” I burst through the door and said, “Grandma, don’t even ask! We finally have a president!” When she asked who it was, I said, “The Supreme Court says it’s George Bush.” She thought about it a minute, then said, “Didn’t we have one of those already?” My thoughts exactly. So I had to do some more explaining to Grandma Anderson. I loved her so.

FYI I took this selfie at my hearing aid appointment this morning. Diagnosis: I can’t hear anything I don’t want to hear. 😉

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TIE O’ THE DAY Presents Mom And Peggy, Together Again In The Past

This cartoon showed up in my Facebook messages yesterday, along with a brief note from Peggy’s daughter, Julie. (For anyone who doesn’t already know, Peggy was Mom’s best friend for over 60 years, until Peggy passed away. They each cooked and cooked. And they were proud of their bewitching ways.) Julie wrote that she had come across this a few weeks ago, and even made a card out of it to send to Mom. The cartoon fits them to a “T.” I messaged back my thanks to Julie for thinking to make it into a card and send it to Mom—as well as letting me in on it. No sooner had I hit the return key to send the message than I realized “Helen” and “Peggy” were in Mom’s handwriting. It was also a NEW YORKER magazine cartoon. It dawned on me this thing started out with me finding it in a magazine years ago! I was beginning to recall a general sense of how this came full circle.

Here’s my memory’s best theory: I saw the cartoon in THE NEW YORKER magazine and—recognizing my two favorite classy witches, Mom and Peggy—tore it out or copied it, then handed it to Mom. I have no doubt that when I gave it to her, I said something snarky like, “Mom, here’s a picture of you and Peggy in the news again, wreaking havoc.” Of course, Mom must have then passed it on to Peggy (because I don’t remember doing it), but not before making it funnier by clearly identifying who’s who, by writing both of their names on it for all the world to see. Mom and Peggy, together, were The Bobbsey Twins. I was merely an occasional third wheel in the drinking-Pepsi-and-driving movie of their lives.

You know how I am about coincidences, signs, and such. As I’ve said before, folks, we’re all connected. Everything is connected. What we do will come back to us. We will likely one day need aid from the very people we have hurt or ignored. That, too, will come back to torment us, if only in our own memories.

This cartoon is just a simple, light-hearted drawing that found its image all the way back to me, causing me to think of Mom and Peggy with a full and grateful joy. I’m glad it was a good thing that found it’s way back in my direction. Imagine if it had been a mean-spirited thing I had said or done to them that ricocheted back to me—with Peggy three-years-gone now, and Mom now quarantined in her room at the care center. I am happy to report that as far as I can recall, I have no regrets about my dealings with either of the two giant witches who so shaped my sensibilities and taught me to sharpen my broomstick when necessary. Besides, I have a feeling that if I’d ever gotten out of line with either of those dames, I would have gotten my what-goes-around-comes-around karma back from both of them right then and there.

FYI I did a little research about the cartoon this afternoon, and found that it was drawn by Sam Gross, and published in the June 23, 2014 issue of THE NEW YORKER. I had a subscription to the magazine then, as I do now. And it is worth every penny the subscription has cost me over the decades, just to have Julie send this to me yesterday.

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Another Creepy Face O’ Mine

My creepy face in this morning’s photo reminded me about this photo, in which I find my visage to be almost as creepy. This snapshot is from the early 2000’s. I am shown here with my Sister Who Wishes To Remain Nameless, at the Pub in Delta. You can see I was at what I call “my beer-drinkin’ weight.”

I hope I don’t look like this regularly, but the creepiness is there in my eyes sometimes. They make me look like I’m hatching a plan to commit mayhem and slay zombies. With my mesmerEYEzing eyes, I could sell used cars, or hypnotize people to write-in my name for President on their ballots. Hey, I’m always in search of a new experience. Your eyelids are getting very heavy….You are getting sleeeeepy…..sleeeeepy…..

BTW When I started TIE O’ THE DAY, my Sister Who Wishes To Remain Nameless was hesitant to have her real name mentioned on it, even though most of y’all know her name anyway. Someone asked me recently if I think she will ever let me refer to her by her actual name, and my answer to that question is this: Even if SWWTRN says it’s okay to use her name, I won’t refer to her in any way other than SWWTRN—because after all these years, SWWTRN is now a real character on the tblog. It makes me chuckle every time I type those capital letters.

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It’s Frightful

This photo is from a December 2018 visit we had with Mom at MCR. Leg lamp Tie o’ the Day is, of course, from my Christmas neckwear collection. Don’t be afraid! I’m not rolling out the X-mas ties quite yet. But I thought this would be an appropriate post picture for the Halloween season because it shows me with a truly creepy look on my face. Mom is happy, though, so what else matters?

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Merry Birthday, To The Late Don Tucker

The Tucker Boys, R-L: Dale, Don, Tom, Kent, Randy
The Tuckers o’ Pleasant View. Back row: Don, Randy, Kent, Dale. Front row: Jerilyn, Phyllis, George, Tom.

Yesterday, TIE O’ THE DAY tipped its cap to my sister BT’s son on his birthday. Today, we pay a brief tribute to BT’s late brother-in-law, Don, who would have been 71 today. Don passed away two years ago—suddenly, and far too soon.

When BT married Kent Tucker in 1967, she gained Don as a brother-in-law. When Don got married a few months later, BT gained Karla. The four of them have always been dear friends. I must add this: From my perspective, it seems like “Don-and-Karla” has always been one word. I can’t remember a time, until Don died, that I ever said one name without the other. To speak of one, was to speak of both. They were a team. A comedy team, at that.

When my ex and I moved from Salt Lake City, sight unseen, to Arlington, VA in the early 90’s, it was Don-and-Karla who picked us up from the airport. (They had been living in the area for a number of years, where Don worked for the IRS and Karla was a pediatric ICU nurse.) It was late in the evening when our plane landed, and Don-and-Karla drove us and our luggage to the apartment we had rented quickly, and without ever seeing. The apartment was a hazard, and it seemed to me that Don-and-Karla tried to hide their instinct to run. We had a lease, and we’d have to make it work until we could figure out our next step. As Don-and-Karla left my ex and I in our new hovel, I’m sure they were more than a bit worried for us. They invited us to spend Thanksgiving with them that year, probably just to see if we were surviving our flea-infested, stinky living quarters.

About two years later, BT was accepted into a Master’s degree program at George Washington University, in Washington, D.C.. Rather than commute from Pleasant View, UT to class in D.C. every day, BT needed to move to the D.C.-area for a year. Don-and-Karla opened up their house, inviting Betty, Kent, and their youngest kid to live with them for the duration of BT’s Master’s program. A more generous couple, I have never met.

Don was a booming presence in a room. I cannot imagine Karla without him. Their house must be so very quiet now. I hope their kids and grandkids keep Karla’s world loud and laughing. Don would want that for her. And I’m sure they do: They were raised that way, by Don-and-Karla.

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50 Is The New 49

My dreamy nephew, Brandon Tucker, turned 50 today. He was born to my oldest sister, Mercedes, and her hubby, Nuk, way back in 1970. You know—way back before time and dirt even existed.

When I was in college at Weber State in the 80’s, I lived with the Tucker’s a couple of times. I saw Brandon and his siblings be kids, up-close and loud. I remember Brandon often going outside to practice sports. He practiced football by practicing spiking the ball and choreographing end zone dances. He practiced running by practicing breaking the ribbon at the finish line. How could I not admire his fervor for winning?! He was dedicated to being triumphant, no matter his chosen sport. Now, he’s a Yankees fan and a Patriots fan, but I have learned to forgive him for that.

Around three years ago, Brandon’s right foot had to be amputated. Since that time, I think of him as my own personal peg-leg pirate. Losing his foot did not stop him from playing golf, as one of these photos shows. Another photo shows his flip-flop foot. And, so importantly, yet another photo shows Brandon with his granddaughter, Jolee, who graces us with her head Bow Tie o’ the Day.

Merry 50th Birthday, old boy!

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Mom Doesn’t Look A Day Over 89

Mom had a stupendous time on her 90th birthday, even in the midst of a pandemic. She dressed up in her Sunday best. She had her earrings clipped on. Her phone was all charged up and ready for birthday callers. All five of her kids sat outside the MCR hall window, taking turns talking to her by phone on the outside side of the glass. We siblings set up socially distanced lawn chairs, and chatted and laughed with each other while Mom watched us intently through the window. I know it is always a gift for Mom to watch us enjoy ourselves sibling-ing together, being happy to be her kids. By the time we got around to taking a picture of us “with” Mom, two of my siblings were nowhere to be found. I am joined here in one photo by BT/Mercedes and Ron—and Mom, who’s proudly displaying her birthday cake. Bow Tie o’ the Day is covered in joyous emojis, and I am pleased to say my Batman socks—with their tiny capes—were a hit with Mom (and everyone else). She said she liked them before I’d even had a chance to purposely show them off to her. She’s ancient, but she notices all the important details in life.

Bigly thanks to my Sister Who Wishes To Remain Nameless for arranging for birthday decorations and posters to be set up inside MCR, and for having a celebratory cake made for Mom and “smuggled” in. My SWWTRN also decorated right outside Mom’s window, so the first thing Mom saw when she looked outside that morning was a display of balloons and words telling her she had, indeed, made it to 90. Kathi and Robbie’s family made posters they then plastered onto MCR’s windows for Mom and the rest of the residents to enjoy.

Mom has been receiving a steady stream of flowers, cookies, gifts, window visits, and phone calls over the past few weeks. And, of course, she has been receiving cards galore! I asked Mom if she knows how many birthday cards she’s received over the past couple of weeks, and she lifted up a handful of unopened cards she had gotten in the mail that very day. There were at least a dozen unopened envelopes in her hand. She says she has not counted all the cards and letters yet, but that she knows “there are a lot.” I can say from taking a glance through the window into her room that piles of cards dot every flat surface. I know how my mother is, and I know darn well she will read and re-read her birthday cards from now until she’s 91, and beyond. They will provide her much joy and nostalgia, especially in the absence of in-person visits. Thanks, y’all!

To all of you who sent birthday greetings to Mom in any form, I and my siblings—and Mom—are grateful for your love for her. She feels rightly adored and spoiled. You helped to make Mom’s Pandemic 90th Birthday a many-people-involved, grand occasion for her.

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Mom Says “Boo” About Her 90th, Occurring On The ‘Morrow

This photo of Mom and my candy corn Bow Tie o’ Last October is a fitting tribute to the almost 90-year-old gal who is my mother, since she will be the first to tell you she is proud to be a witch. Every Halloween season, Dad reminded her to sharpen her broom, and she would assure him she had already done it, so he better straighten up.

I won’t be posting tomorrow, on Mom’s actual birthday, because I will be busy waving Merry Birthday to her through the Millard Care and Rehab windows. We plan to spend the day with her—masked and socially distanced from any others there to celebrate Mom’s milestone with her. Skitter has already picked out the Tie o’ the Day she’s going to be wearing for Mom to see.

I’ll shoot pix and take notes of the socially distanced, non-gathering gathering. I hope I can snap lots of photos of Mom in action, on the other side of the glass. Also, I’ll try to get a birthday card count. Y’all have sent Mom a boatload of cards and notes and even gifts. I thank you for playing a bigly part in Mom’s Contactless Pandemic 90th Birthday. I’ll blow Mom a kiss through the window, from y’all.

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Mush On The Porch

Yup, that’s all this is: Mom eating her oatmeal mush on my front porch one morning. (FYI Mom puts Half & Half on her mush.) Mom was not being shy for the camera here. She was laughing so hard at something I said that she was on the verge of spitting her mush, and I wanted to capture it on film if it happened. Oh, how I wish I could remember what I said that caused her such a laughing fit, cuz I would certainly write it down here for y’all to read—at the risk of causing you to spit your own mush.