Valentine Vows

March 1941. Ken was a young man in love. He had to been getting to know Marian for some time, and he knew she was the one. He asked and she said yes! He was able to buy a ring shortly thereafter in a fire sale at a local jewelry store. Plans for the happy event began. Unfortunately, as someone once said (and even sang), "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." 

April 1941. Plans for the wedding went on hold, as the draft caused upheaval and found him suddenly sent by train to Louisiana for boot camp. It was a lonely time, as the people he met were nothing like the people he had known back home in North Dakota. He clung to his faith and exchanged letters with Marian and family back home. In July of that year, he got word that his brother Melvin and Marian's sister Pearl were planning a wedding. Loneliness intensified. (Melvin would also go on to fight in the war.)

December 7, 1941 was, as President Franklin D. Roosevelt put it, "a date which will live in infamy." Japanese forces bombed Pearl Harbor, killing thousands, sinking ships, and throwing the US into the War. Ken's upcoming furlough was put on hold as they were taken by train through Texas to San Francisco, on to Pendleton, Oregon, and then to Boise, Idaho. It was during this time that he got a phone call from his beloved Marian. She had the chance to take the train to Boise! He was able to arrange with his superior officers to get leave to find her in town and help her find a hotel when she arrived in early February 1942. The happy couple spent time together when he was permitted to do so by his very accommodating superiors. Ken and Marian bought a wedding ring on Thursday, and got their marriage license at the courthouse on Friday. They had passed a Baptist church advertising a Wednesday prayer meeting, and the pastor's name and phone number were on the sign board out front. Ken and Marian crowded into a telephone booth and called the pastor. When they asked him if he could perform the ceremony, the pastor asked...

"When?"
"Now."
"Do you have a marriage license?"
"Yes, we do."
"Do you have witnesses?"

They hadn't thought about that. The pastor invited them to his house to discuss. They would need at least two witnesses. The pastor's wife would be able to be one, and as they were brainstorming who could be the second witness, the pastor's wife commented that new neighbors had just moved in across the street, and she could go meet them and find out if they would be willing to do them a favor. The only people at the ceremony who knew each other were the pastor and his wife, and Ken and Marian. The neighbor who came over met everyone there for the first time. 

It was Saturday, February 14, 1942. Valentine's Day.

That act of kindness to strangers began a long and happy marriage, though it would be a while before they would be able to spend much time together. They stayed together as long as they could until Ken's unit was sent back to California to catch the ship across the Pacific. Marian took the train back home, and Ken would go on to serve in New Caledonia, a small island off the eastern Australian coast. He would later be transferred to Europe, where he was part of the victory parade through Paris on V-E Day.

Sometime after his return to North Dakota, they had their first child. Four more children followed. Between 1973 and 1993, they welcomed seven grandchildren (the fourth being me). 1999 started a new era, as he dedicated his first great-grandson. Seven more great-grandchildren have followed in the years since.

Find someone who looks at you the way my
grandparents looked at each other in 1985.

They were happily married for 47 years.

The morning of November 7, 1989, Philippine time, my parents came in my room. Usually it was just my mom who came to wake me up, but I knew something was up when my dad was with her. They told me they had gotten a call the previous evening that Grandma and Grandpa had been together praying. When Grandpa was done, he waited for Grandma to take her turn, and she was silent. He looked up to discover she was too busy rejoicing at the feet of Jesus.

The afternoon of May 9, 2015, our family was gathered around his bed. He was moaning in pain. We each said our good byes. I asked him to give Grandma a big hug for me. My cousin Annika told him that she loved him, and he replied, "I love you." It was the last intelligible thing he said. My mom's cousin Nola arrived and he opened his eyes and acknowledged her. My mom was holding his hand and it went limp. Annika, a nurse, felt for a pulse and found none. My mom said, "He's singing with the angels." He was four months short of 100 years old.

I don't know how my grandparents' reunion went, but I imagine them running into each other's arms on the golden streets and dancing for joy, along with their son Robert, who was killed in a traffic accident in 1979. They weren't much for dancing in this life, but I picture them dancing arm in arm in heaven.

Perhaps they were joined in the reunion by a man whose name I don't even know, but whose kindness in performing a wedding ceremony at his house in Boise, Idaho for two strangers changed the course of their lives and paved the way for a long and happy relationship. A pastor who heeded the sage advice by the author of Hebrews (13:2), "Don’t forget to show hospitality to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained angels without realizing it!"

Kindness in the Flood

Cainta, Philippines (near Manila). That evening, we were gathered around the piano singing from a songbook while my mom played piano. We sang a bunch of songs we knew (folksongs, if I remember right), and then we found a very short song called "Scotland's Burning" that we didn't know until then:

Scotland's burning! Scotland's burning!
Look out! Look out!
Fire, fire, fire, fire!
Pour on water, pour on water!

The song was so absurd that we sang it several times, and I could still sing it today.

It had been stormy and rainy the past few days, but we were safe in our house, content in the fact that our driveway had an incline, so it was about 3 feet above street level, should the torrential rain cause flooding. In the past, floods had covered the streets, but never serious enough to reach the level of our driveway.

So I was a bit confused when I woke up the following morning, June 28, 1985, to find living room furniture in our room on the second level of our split-level house (there were about 2 steps between levels). When I went out to investigate, I was shocked to discover water streaming under our sliding glass door into the lower level of the house! My parents and our helper who lived with us had moved furniture and as much other stuff as they could to the second level as the water was approaching. If I remember right, they put the refrigerator on blocks. (I don't remember if it was ours or a friend's, but somebody's refrigerator actually started to float.)

Friends came to help

As the water was about 5 feet deep in the street, it was too deep for me to go out by myself, but with the rate the water was coming in, I also couldn't stay in the house! (At its peak, it was about 2 feet deep in the house.)

Thankfully, our neighbors came to the rescue. They had a much higher second floor where I would be safe. My dad carried me over to the neighbors' house, where they let me stay and wait out the flood waters, while the adults frantically worked to save everything they could from the rising water.

Our neighbors were very friendly. They had a sari-sari store on their ground floor; that is, a small family store with a counter and window. Customers come up to the counter and order food or anything else they want to buy, and then the owners go back and get it, and bring it out. Sari-sari stores were an amazing source of steaming hot rolls (called pandesal) and other fresh food, peanuts, snacks, and other items. As the neighbors' ground floor was also flooded, they had brought their wares up to the second floor, where it was safer. They also had kids, some of whom were younger than me. I remember the neighbors showing me how their dogs could swim. We went out on their porch, and they threw the dogs into the flooded street, and they swam back to us. (The porch had a stairway down to the ground, so that served as the main door in the front of their house, directly above the store.) People in the neighborhood used doors as rafts. Tall friends came over to help my parents with anything they needed. I was amused how some of them used umbrellas, with flood waters up to their shoulders at times, because we wouldn't want to get wet!

[Continued below the pictures]

At our front gate
(The place they were standing was above the street;
thus why the water doesn't come as high on them.
The picture at the top of this post shows
them standing in the street in front of our house.)

Once the water was shallow enough for me to wade in it, my parents got me and I went back to help out. As we bailed water out of the upper level of the house, we were singing, "Pour on water, pour on water!"

That's me on the right, helping to clean the gate.
My t-shirt said "You drive me Bumby's."
No idea what that means, but it still makes me smile.

That was also when we learned our street was on more of an incline than we realized. It didn't look like a hill, as it was gradual, but it was 5 feet deep on our end of the street, and only a couple inches on the other end.

So many people stepped up to help. As with most floods, some people were affected more than others. Some friends had houses on higher ground. Our neighbors took me in to wait it out, safe on their second floor. They did it with a smile, and kept everything as positive and fun as they could. Other friends came to our house while it was flooded to help out. Once the flood water receded, we had a bit of a work party to clean the mud that caked our floors and walls, as well as the car, and move everything back. We put mattresses out on the railings in our backyard to dry out. As difficult as the flood was, everyone's positive attitude was a big help. 

We were able to find humor. I thought it was hilarious that people were wading through shoulder-deep water (in some cases) and holding umbrellas so as not to get wet. The neighbors throwing their dogs into the street made me laugh. (It was safe, as the water was deep enough and the dogs were good swimmers.) The song we had sung the previous evening (about a disaster, no less) kept the tone light as we worked to bail water out.

We were working hard, and nobody wants their house flooded and property damaged. Even so, thanks to everyone's positive attitude and kind, generous spirit, it is actually a happy memory for me on the whole. I wouldn't want to repeat it, but it was a generally happy memory! It's funny how that works.

People sitting on the roof of a pickup,
which was mostly submerged

Mister Rogers' New Neighborhood

Fred Rogers was one of those rare people who was able to maintain a child-like spirit in a world full of grown-ups who had lost all sense of the wonder of childhood. He could always find the positive things in life, no matter what was going on. In scary situations, he advised us to "look for the helpers" (quoting his mother). He was widely admired across the globe. Our world needs more people like him, who show kindness to everyone, no matter their background, skin color, beliefs or anything else, and encourage others to do the same.

I wrote this poem February 27, 2003 after he passed away from stomach cancer. It is based partly on the theme song for Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, and mentions some of his puppets.

Mister Rogers with King Friday
Fotos International/Getty

He’s in a new neighborhood
And it’s a beautiful day up there
The streets are made of gold
And the lake is clear as crystal
He’s meeting new friends
And reuniting with old friends
And all the neighbors are bowing
At the feet of the One who made them neighbors
The One who taught them
How to be a neighbor

It’s a beautiful day in the new neighborhood
It will always be day in the new neighborhood
It will never end
No more need to pretend

He introduced us to King Friday
Now he bows before the King of Kings
He talked about Prince Tuesday
Now he kneels before the Prince of Peace
We learned about a tiger, a cat and an owl
He has now met the Lion of Judah and the Lamb of God

He’s always wanted to have a Neighbor just like that.

Good Samaritan in the Big Sky State

Montana, early 1970s. A young elementary teacher taught at one school in the morning and another in the afternoon. That day, she was driving through the countryside on the icy roads, from one school to the other. She was on a schedule and had to get to class on time. So it was a bit alarming when the tire blew! She was young and had never changed a tire before. This was in the days before cell phones, so her options were limited out there in the middle of nowhere, in the cold.

Having pulled off the road, she set about trying to figure out what to do. She had to get to class, so needed to figure something out quickly!

Then it happened.

Another car approached, and pulled off the road. The driver, a stranger, got out and approached the stranded woman. She doesn't remember if they even talked, but he volunteered to change her tire. Once he was done, he drove off, and she never saw him again.

Photo by Vlad
Adobe Stock

That young teacher made it to class, grateful for the kindness of a complete stranger who happened to be at the right place at the right time. She wondered if he was an angel.

This teacher is still young today, but somewhat less young than she was approximately 50 years ago. I know her very well; in fact, she has taught me a lot of what I know. She and her husband would go on to have two sons later in that decade. They named their second son Steven.

Lucy's Lullaby

Lucy Kotecki is one of the most amazing and talented people I know, and she is currently a teenager. As I mentioned in my blog yesterday, she makes awesome winter hats. What I did not mention is that proceeds for those hats go to a charity to help horses. She has raised money in the past to help in the preservation of cheetahs. She and the rest of their family raise monarch butterflies, and set them free. She has a huge heart for people and animals. I want to be like her when I grow up.

I just looked up the meaning of her name. It means "light." Very apt. She is definitely a light to everyone who knows her, and to all the animals her efforts have helped and continue to help.

A few years ago, my friend Kim was expecting their first baby. They didn't know if it was a boy or a girl, and the child was taking their time in coming. Several days after the due date (and still no baby), I wondered if maybe a lullaby would help, so I wrote one. I originally called it "Lullaby for the Little Kotecki". After Lucy made her triumphant entry into the world, I renamed it.

As I don't have any biological nieces or nephews, Lucy and her equally amazing brother and sister are among my honorary nieces and nephews. Gotta spoil someone! 😀 Also, chosen family.

Photo by Natalia
Adobe Stock
This is not Lucy. 😀

Come out to the world
Come out and play
Come out--we'll chase the goblins away
Your mommy and daddy are waiting for you
And all of your friends can’t wait to meet you
Your mommy is brave
Your daddy is valiant
You have super parents
They’ll take good care of you

So come out, come out, come out to the world
Come out and explore the great world with your friends

Light in the Darkness

It was just after midnight when my brother got the call from the hospital. My mom came in the room, and when she saw him on the phone at that hour of the night, she knew it couldn't be a good sign. A few minutes later, he turned the phone over to her and came and got me. My worst fears were confirmed when we got into the kitchen and he said, "Dad just died."

The hospital wondered if we would like to come see him before they moved him to the morgue. I knew I needed to go. Once my mom was done talking to them, we gathered in a hug, the three of us huddled together in grief. We got dressed and went to the hospital. One of the nurses met us at the door and escorted us up, as it was after visiting hours. He looked much more peaceful than he had a few hours previous when I had talked to him and said my good byes (but in the hopes I would be able to come back the following day to talk more, and hoping and praying he would recover against all odds). A charity had donated quilts to the hospital for patients on comfort care, which the family got to keep. We gathered around his bed. It was an important part in saying good bye, but I hadn't expected it to be so soon! He went so quickly. We took his belongings and the quilt home. The quilt is now on our couch. We would get to see him once more, a few days later at the funeral home.

The jar
(My painting Le mont Rainier is in the background.
As it was December, we had our nativity scenes up.)

As friends and family heard the news, people started sending flowers. I got a big bouquet from my team at work. It meant a lot. But the most meaningful gift for me came from my friends Kim and Jason Kotecki. I have mentioned them on my blog in the past. Jason is a masterful artist who has done many amazing paintings. One of his recent paintings is called Hope in the Darkness. It has a mason jar on the grass with fireflies inside and flying upward out of the jar. There are trees at night in the background. It is dark, but the light from the fireflies indicate hope, bright lights flying through the air and providing their own light where there isn't much. (My blanket has that painting on it as well.)

Hope in the Darkness
Jason Kotecki, 2020
Used with permission

I picked up the box from them at our door and wondered if I had ordered something from them and had forgotten about it. It was heavier than I expected. When I opened the box, I found a mason jar with rocks in it. I was confused at first, but after a bit of examination realized what it was. It had semitransparent blue river rocks with fairy lights wrapped around the rocks inside the jar. It also has an on/off switch and a battery compartment. It harkens back to his painting.

The flowers we received were very meaningful, but that jar lamp meant more to me than I can express. I use it all the time before going to bed. In a way, it's almost like my dad is there with me, shining a light into the room. I miss him.

But their kindness didn't stop there. Kim and Jason's oldest daughter Lucy makes amazing winter hats. I ordered some at an excellent price, and she outdid herself. Jason's dad Walt (a cancer survivor and an amazing person) offered to talk by phone and be a comfort. All of that meant the world to me.

Kim recently lost her dad. I pray for their family's comfort and encourage anyone who feels so inclined to join me. I'm so thankful she got to spend time in the hospital with her dad before the end. We've had so much grief and loss in the past few years. COVID, international conflicts, earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes, shootings, cancer, and so much more. We all need comfort and love. The world needs more families like the Koteckis, who make an effort to reach out and offer a prayer, a hug, an ear to listen, creativity, immense talent, and so much more. Kim likes to talk about chosen family, who are not related by blood, but are as good as family. They are part of my chosen family.

There is always hope in the darkness. Even in the darkest night, there are always glimmers of light and hope if we know where to look. The Koteckis remind me to be the light for someone who needs it.

Tsunami!

I wrote this poem December 28, 2004 after the massive 9.0 earthquake and tsunami two days earlier across the Indian Ocean. It claimed over 225,000 lives in Indonesia, Sri Lanka, Thailand, Myanmar, Maldives, India, Somalia, Kenya and Seychelles, among other countries. The devastation was horrifying, and it claimed lives indiscriminately, from the poorest to the richest. Among the dead was 21-year-old Prince Poom Jensen (พุ่ม เจนเซน) of Thailand, grandson of King Bhumibol Adulyadej (ภูมิพลอดุลยเดช, 1927-2016), the third-longest-reigning monarch in history. The quote at the end of the poem is from Psalm 46:1-3.

This seemed appropriate to post now, in light of the recent devastating earthquake in Syria and Türkiye. The death toll for that is in the thousands last I heard. I can't begin to fathom the devastation and loss from either disaster.

Image by Viks_jin, Adobe Stock

The sun shone bright on the tropical sea
The palm trees swayed gently in the breeze
As the waves brushed softly against the beach.
Who could know what was about to happen?

His Highness the Prince set out on his jet skis
An old beggar asked for money to buy his next meal
A monk knelt before a statue of Buddha
While someone else, facing Mecca, said a prayer to Allah
A mother put her child down for a nap
And tourists lounged lazily on the beach
Snorklers took in the splendor of the magnificent coral
As the sun beat down on Asia and Africa

Then it happened.

The waves grew suddenly large
The rising water engulfed the beggar
As the trembling ground felled the ancient Indonesian temple
And the mosque collapsed in the force of the quake
As a great island shifted 100 feet to the southwest

The earth stopped shaking
But the disaster was far from over
The waves rose higher
Great walls of water threw His Highness into the sea
And dashed the snorklers against the rugged coral
The angry ocean crashed into the beaches
And took the tourists by surprise
3000 miles the water traveled
To wash away African villages
As countless mothers and children across the coasts of Asia and Africa
Were swept from their homes into the raging sea

The sheer force of the tsunamis
Lifted many off the ground
And hurled them far inland or out to sea

How many were lost that day?
How many more will be lost to disease?
Who can say?
But this I know:
God had a reason for this
May His Kingdom be advanced through this,
The worst tragedy of the young century

May this be our comfort:
"God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging"

Let us run to Him
And take shelter in His loving arms
God will be exalted.
Praise His holy Name!

The Tour Guide of Chiang Mai

สวัสดี ครับ (Sawadee khrap!)*

Hello!

Thailand is a stunningly beautiful country with a very long history. Our adventure there in 1990 was memorable for many reasons. The beach in Huahin in the south was stunning (though we had to avoid stepping on or touching the jellyfish that had washed up on the shore). It was fascinating exploring the palaces and other attractions in Bangkok. One evening we ate at Tum Nak Thai, the largest restaurant in the world at the time (the servers used roller skates to get around).** The intricacy of their architecture blew me away. Though we didn't learn much Thai, the first thing we learned was ไม่เผ็ด (approximately pronounced "my pet"), which means "not spicy" (or "zero stars"). It is a very important thing to know when ordering in Thai restaurants and has been useful to know in years since when I've gone to Thai restaurants in surprising the servers. 😀 I've only had to translate into English for a server once in a Thai restaurant in the US.

Old Market in Bangkok

One thing I will always remember is the kindness of our cab driver in the northern city of Chiang Mai. If I remember right, his name was Wic. (I'm sure that's short for something.) We came to Thailand using frequent flyer miles, and we weren't with a tour group. I'm not sure how all the arrangements were made, as I was 12, but Wic became our official tour guide. He arrived at our hotel every morning and took us all over the place, in many cases to places that were not frequented by tourists, but were incredibly fascinating.

We got to ride samlor (สามล้อ), or tricycles (the word literally means "three wheels"). We also got to ride the similar tuk tuks (ตุ๊ก ตุ๊ก, not pictured - the main difference is that samlors are pulled by bicyles, and tuk tuks are motorized and have a roof over the whole thing). That's Wic standing on the right in the top picture. He took us to visit Buddhist temples. We had to take our shoes off at the door, and we marveled at the intricacy of everything. He took us to the Maesa Elephant Camp, where we got to ride elephants. I remember being surprised that their dung is green. (TMI?) They are majestic and highly intelligent animals. It was fascinating.

Perhaps the most fascinating part was when he took us to see the ancient ruins of the palaces. His English was limited, but he explained that Chiang Mai was once the capital, and the palaces were destroyed in an earthquake around 1000 years ago. The grounds were deserted when we were there. If we had gone with a tour group, we may not have gone there, and it was a highlight of the trip.

Chiang Mai is the home of many different kinds of factories, and Wic took us to many of them. The silk factory (he's holding a basket with silkworms in the lower left picture) had fascinating exhibits of the entire process from the silkworms hatching to the end product. The umbrella factory had incredible paintings on their very large umbrellas. There were factories for lacquer trinkets and sculptures, for jade sculptures, for statues, and several others. They were fascinating.

We could not have asked for a better tour guide if we had paid a lot more for an "official" tour. He was a cab driver, and he took it on himself to take us around for several days. Wic went way above and beyond the call of duty, and he made it a very memorable, educational and fascinating time.

My mom and a friend in Chiang Mai
(Said friend was much nicer than
another monkey I could mention!)

* The formalities in Thai are interesting. In Tagalog, formalities depend on the person you are speaking to, so if you are talking to someone older, you add po to what you are saying. French has two words for "you" depending on who (and how many people) you're talking to. English has "sir" and "ma'am", depending on who you're talking to. But in Thai, these formalities depend on the gender of the person talking. Males say สวัสดี ครับ (Sawadee khrap), and females say สวัสดี ค่ะ (Sawadee kha). That said, I just did a little more research on this and found they have other greetings that vary depending on how close you are to the person you're talking to. Languages fascinate me.

** A little research just now tells me that Tum Nak Thai is no more, and there is a Carrefour there now. I guess they aren't just in Europe, as I thought a few days ago!

A Faithful Dog

Daisy was a beautiful and loyal collie who lived on my great-aunt and great-uncle's farm in Montana. I wrote this poem in 2001, shortly after she was killed by a mountain lion. I'm not sure how long she lived, but I believe she was in her teens. My great-uncle passed away in 2000. Our whole family mourned his loss, and Daisy was no exception. She passed away the following year.

This is not Daisy, but she looked similar to this
Photo by Rita Kochmarjova,
Adobe Stock

She played among the daisies in the field
Beneath her master's watchful eye
She ran and fetched the sticks her master threw
And she stuck close to him
She was a faithful dog

When his visitors came,
She played with them
When his family came,
She played with them

She romped and ran and played and jumped
She loved everyone she met
She played with the children
And she played with the adults
And she stuck close to her master
She was a faithful dog

She stuck close when he was hurt
She stuck close when he was ill
She stuck close when he was well
She loved with all of her heart
Her heart as big as the mountains around the ranch

She and her master grew older
She and her master grew slower
And still she stuck by him
She was a faithful dog

One day her master was gone
Never to return

And she stuck by his chair
Her sorrow kept her there
But still she played
And still she loved
She was a faithful and playful dog

One day she was gone
Never to return

She played among the daisies in the field
Beneath her master's twinkling eye

The ranch where Daisy lived
I took this picture September 10, 2022.

"It's a Beautiful Day!"

"It's a beautiful day!"

It was a sunny day, and I had to agree with my classmate at BCTI. I don't recall his name, but his genuine smile and friendly greeting made my day.

Next day...

"It's a beautiful day!"

This time it was raining out, and the weather was nasty. The commute to school had been frustrating at times. But he wore the same friendly smile and joyful demeanor. Once again, it made my day.

Image from: Kraken images

Every day it was the same. No matter the weather, no matter what was going on, no matter how stressful classes were, he always had the same smile and the same friendly greeting that couldn't help but make me smile. "It's a beautiful day!"

It's true. They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. We miss so much joy and beauty when we focus on the rain and doom and gloom around us. Things are tough sometimes. But we can look at life with a more optimistic viewpoint, as this guy did. I wish I could remember his name. I hope he reads this, as he continues to inspire me over 20 years later, nearly half a lifetime ago. He taught me an important lesson in joy and optimism. We can't necessarily control our circumstances, but we can control how we respond to them.

His joy was contagious.

With a simple smile and a (sometimes unexpected) greeting, he had a way of melting any fears and tension away. I want to be like that when I grow up. If you are reading this, sir, I salute you and thank you for the inspiration you are.