Missing Trudy on this day of Innaguration

This was read at Trudy's funeral.

I wanted to tell Trudy to fight. I wanted her to fight. But ultimately she knew what her body could take and God did just happen to have a say in the matter.

Trudy over the years has influenced me with her wit, intelligence, and sense of humor, knowledge, and love of me. Trudy is vibrant. Trudy is stubborn (that’s a compliment).

Trudy has always supported me on my many adventures. Never questioning, but always giving excited encouragement. She was usually more excited then me and would research and become the expert on the place I was going. I think sometimes she lived vicariously through me but really it was the other way around. I lived because she taught me how to live.

I remember her stories of working as a social worker in Compton, California. And I firmly believe that this is where she got her spunk and feistiness. She had a mustang that she loved dearly while working in California. When I picture Trudy, I always see her driving that Mustang down I-5 in Cally on the road to some rally as a twenty-something.

Trudy is a democrat. She isn’t one of those “new dems” that come and go as the politics change. She’s been a democrat her entire life, in fact, I have a sneaking suspicion that she came out of the womb one. Since I have moved to DC I try to go and do whatever rally they might be having, as I knew I would get a call from Trudy or an e-mail saying one of two things. That she either saw me on CNN or that she didn’t see me and asked if I attended. Because of Trudy I pay attention to this world around me. I read up on politics and know that people do have a voice. I picture Trudy beside me holding up the green sign that reads “Save Darfur.” Or her walking the three-mile walk for immigrant rights. I picture Ted Kennedy calling her up and asking her opinions on the new healthcare bill that they have in Massachusetts. I am glad she was able to see that in the year 2008 there will be a Mormon, a woman, and a black man running for the office of President of the United States. We loved watching the television series, “West Wing” together. Trudy has her hobbies and politics is one of them, always rooting for the underdog and the rights of others. That is what makes Trudy, Trudy. And we wouldn’t want her any other way. Ultimately her love of politics and everything donkey led me to thinking differently. I was rereading an e-mail she sent in the last few months that stated simply “Get a Hilary autograph before she gets to the Whitehouse to be pres…jealous 98942.” She always made me smile. She has slowly seen me become a democrat in my own way and I know she smiles at that.

Trudy and I happened to live in Salt Lake City during the same time frame. I had every Friday off and I would pick her up and we would go on small adventures. We called our Friday club the FIFF club, which stood for “Friday is for Fun.” We would go to the library down from my apartment on 4th South, which would make us think we were in a little street in Italy what with the new remodel. We would sip hot chocolate and people watch while stuffing our canvas bags with books to check out. Of course her bag would be stuffed with political satires, gardening, and cooking books. One of our other favorite haunts was Target. Something about the smell and vibrant red that caught our attention and the cleanliness of the store had us grabbing everything in sight filling our carts over the brim. And who could forget the bakery on S. Temple, our own little piece of Paris that would make the perfect Madeleine’s.

Many times over we made the trek from Salt Lake City to Selah. At least 6 times over the course of two years. We usually made it in about 9 hours, sometimes 10 if we got pulled over in Oregon. Perhaps, my favorite memories of Trudy were on two of these journeys. Tyler Hesselgesser had bought one of the Herrud boys white Acura. It was up to me to drive from Utah to Selah to deliver the car for some reason. Of course Trudy came along. This Acura had two mufflers and it was very fast and very loud. Trudy and I left at night and we would fly up the hills making sure to go the speed limit as we got into Oregon. Because the car was so loud, we would either blast the music or have loud conversations. Needless to say by the time we got to Idaho our voices were horse, but Trudy would keep on talking, making sure I stayed awake. My best conversations with her were on these journeys. Another time was when we both moved back to Washington at the same time. I drove and my car was stuffed full. At about 4am while driving through Oregon (again) I noticed a car following me and it was kind of creepy so Trudy said in her forceful voice “drive faster.” So I did. Ten minutes later I was being pulled over by that car. To get out of the ticket Trudy whispered, “Put your purse by my crutches so he can see them!” So I did. And this time it worked. No ticket.

As most of you know Trudy has a love of cats. There was a time she was living in Selah with my parents and on their property they had an older grey cat that Trudy swore was one of her beloved cats from a long time ago called Ghost. Well “Ghost” had something wrong with her voice box. When it meowed it would sound like a broken jack-n-the-box. One weekend when Trudy was out of town, Whitney and I decided to get rid of this cat and take it further out in the country where it could roam free and chase mice…basically doing just what is was on my parents property. So Whit and I packed it in the car and 30 seconds into the entire endeavor Whitney started crying and I started crying and we didn’t want to feel the wrath of Trudy or see how hurt Trudy would be. The grey cat called “Ghost” looked into our eyes and pleaded to be taken back to Trudy. To this day, cats are different to me. Of course we came clean with Trudy and she reprimanded us in our adulthood as was rightly deserved. Trudy has such a love of animals, always on the look out for one to take care of, even with us giving her a hard time. I will never forget that reprimand.

Trudy has an uncanny knack for choosing the perfect gift. At Christmas Trudy would usually include a water colored beach scene that she had painted in the annual gift exchange. We would go looking for the perfect mat and frame so that it would just sparkle and jump out at you as you unwrapped it. It was usually the gift that got stolen over and over.

I am grateful that my sisters have such fond memories of Trudy. I still have a painting that Whitney water colored at age 5 with Trudy training her. It's a picture of a car on an arched bridge. There is a vibrant yellow background. The bridge is grey and it's shaded to perfection with darker grey on the underside of the bridge casting it's shadow on the
water. The water is enchantingly blue. The car is a bright cherry red all alone on the
bridge with the arches headed I would assume to the beach. As Trudy and Whitney have a love of beaches. The painting is the size of a postcard. I think of it and think of Trudy and Whitney on a rainy afternoon as her most perfect nanny. She's turned out pretty good, you know. And then there is Tayler, who was raised by Trudy in many ways. When Tayler had her high fevers Trudy was there.

Trudy can keep secrets. There is something about her that makes you open up to her and tell her everything. The intimate conversations have included everything from religion, politics, rock n’ roll, divorce, marriage, single hood, food, health, family, relationships, men and the lack thereof. When you talked to her you felt like you were the only one that mattered, she concentrated on you, not thinking of what her response will be or what she has to do tomorrow. Her full focus was on you. I trust Trudy completely with my secrets and know she took them with her. I trusted her more than anyone in the world. Trudy was my second Mom and I always felt like her daughter.

Blogging vs. Scrapbooking

I read this on my friend Carren's blog who read it from her friend's blog who got it from somewhere (reference listed at end). I love it and had to share it too!

"Blogging is the underbelly of scrapbooking, its tantruming, scatalogical doppelganger.In the scrapbook version of my summer vacation, I would paste together a sunny collage of sea and sand and smiling kids. In the blog version, I might be more inclined to mention the steaming beach Port-A-John, where the final quarter of Birdy's sandwich ended up tumbling into the reeking blackness. If scrapbooking is the urge to put it all together, blogging might be the urge to take it all apart. Blogging might not make your life tidier, but it keeps life in your memory and keeps it real." --Wondertime, February 2008, page 95.

January's P.O.T.Y. nominee

For those who missed the P.O.T.Y. briefing, it stands for Parent of the Year. Each month there will be one or two stories about parents displaying their inability to latch onto common sense as the adult in the parent/child relationship. This month's nominee is brought to you by Jim. In the future we will try to take pictures of the so called parent in action. We realize that we are not parents ourselves, however, we also realize that there are some things we don't have to be told. So without further adeu here is Jim's first nominee.

This first nominee for POTY Award happens to be the inspiration for this portion of the blog. Before I tell the actual story, I need to back pedal a little bit for some back story. I would say 6 months before this incident my mom and I went to this Mexican restaurant and there was a booth behind us that had 2 loud and hyper kids with a mom drinking a margarita. The staff seemed to know the kids by name along with the mother so one could call them “regulars”. After downing her big margarita she decided to take the kids home.

Now fast forward 6 months later where Hayley and I decided on a Friday night to go have dinner. It was very busy as it always is on a Friday night. While we were waiting, I happened to notice a booth with a mom, dad, and 3 kids waiting for their meals to arrive. It dawned on me they were all staring at the end of the booth where the salt or napkins would be. Eventually we figured out they were staring at an 8” DVD screen playing some movie while they were eating dinner, at a restaurant, not talking to each other. Even the parents were somehow intrigued by the flashing lights and sound on the DVD player.

After a brief eye rolling moment I looked at the woman because she was at the end of the table and realized it was the same woman from 6 months ago. I know without that 8” DVD player they could be forced to interact with each other, how difficult that must be.

A DVD player is fine on a five hour trek to somewhere in a car, but a restaurant! Really?! Really.

London Calling

I've been missing London a lot lately and thought that I would share an email I sent to everyone years ago while living in London...

London Edition 5 Nov. 2004

I recently received an email from my cousin Brandi who asked me "Do you love London, Could you live there permanently?"

So I sat and thought and wrote this little bit down. Here are the answers to those questions.

I love london because of the smells that overwhelm me in the tube station, the wind that blows my hair when a train is just leaving and the rats that I see every once in awhile down there. I love that it takes me an hour to get to anywhere in London on the tube and in that hour I get to sit and indulge in a book(today I read 60 pages from The Five People You Meet in Heaven), or watch people get on and off the tube wondering where they are heading or coming from. I love that I get to walk upstairs and down stairs while listening to the saxophone or guitar belted out by some random person pan handling. Just walking around in general is a reason I love it .

I love big cities for that reason, you walk and take in the world more and can stop and observe situations. (and lose weight in the meantime) I love that I can get lost on accident but not get upset about it because i have happened upon something even more enjoyable than where I was headed in the first place (My Aunt Carmel and I had an experience like this the other day while she was visiting.) I enjoy crunching the leaves and smelling the leaves in London, they seem to have a distinct aroma, one that I have never smelled anywhere else, and I am a connoseiur of leaf smells.

I love that I can get off the tube station anywhere at all and it is interesting. Whether it be the punkrockers/goths at Camden town or the business men in there nice suits and shiny watches in the financial district, or the law district where they still practice law in the white wigs and can see walking about. It fascinates me.

I love London for the reason that old is mixed with new. It is a vast city but no tall buildings. I love SoHo with the mix of dirty and china town. I love Leicster square and Picadilly circus with the bright lights hollering out to you to buy a ticket to their play. And so you do. I love the talent that London produces.

I do love seeing those red telephone booths, and those red letter boxes, and the red double decker buses that we all know about, and that makes London London. (by the way they are phasing the red double decker buses out in the next year). I love that the stamps half to have part of the Queen's face somewhere on the stamp. And the money, it's beautiful and not just because it is money, the two pounder is my favorite. it is a silver center with a gold edging.

I love that I can enter any church on any given night and here a wonderful Mozart or Bach being played. Or that I can walk along the Thames River at any given time and here bagpipes playing by someone who is trying to make an extra pound.

I used to say that I loved the accent the most, but now I can't even here it.
I love the people. And as intelligent as some of them seem, I can assure you there are some that are not. I love their sense of humor. Dry and witty and sometimes I don't even get it, but I want to get it. I love their television, their game shows. I love that I love that they are so into knowing everything about everyone who is famous, it's humorous to me, yet I find myself leaning over in the tube listening with a close ear to what someone is saying about so and so or reading the back of someone's newspaper and getting the spoonful of knowledge about the local celebrities.

I love the feeling of missing someone. I think missing someone is a good thing. Knowing that I miss my family and friends makes me realize who is important in my life.

What I love the most about London, is all of it. If I had to choose one single thing about it I might just say where this email began, the tube rides. The tube map is ingenius. It was designed by a man who was only paid a measly 55 pounds. Yet it is a symbol of London. It can take you anywhere you want to go in London. It can take you to the amazing art galleries where you can see the works of Da Vinci, Michaelangelo, Picasso, Wharhol, Matisse, etc. It can take you to a local hang out (mine is O'Neills, a local pub with live Irish music). It can take you to a romantic walk along the River bed, or it can simply take you home.

Yes, Yes, I could live here permanently.

love you,

hayley

Things about me that you may not know (part 5 of 5)

81. When i was little my cousins Carly and Kacey and myself would play what we liked to call "Work for the world." Uncle Dave would bring home the old school computer paper (the ones with the holes on the sides) and it would have writing on it and we would pretend we ran the world.

82. We also played "Judge" a lot while sipping our top ramen. One person would sit at the head of the table and be the judge and the other two would be the plaintiff and defendant. It went something like this-We would grab something of high value to us at the time (ie: a vase on the table) and pretend that we bought it at the defendants store (If for example i was the plaintiff) and I would say I bought it but I hadn't realized there was a crack in it and the she, the defendant, wouldn't let me return it. We would try and argue our points until the judge decided which argument was the best.

83. I hate styrofoam, it makes my teeth ache.

84. I detest mustard

85. I never believed in chiropractors until very recently. Thanks Dr. Yee

86. Jim has helped me discover parts of me I could never have found on my own.

87. I would love my future house to be all white, but I know that is never going to happen. We are talking the furniture, walls, lamps, everything!

88. I am more conniving then I look, just ask my brother.

89. I like some of Korn, but don't tell Jim or I'll never live it down

90. I love taking long walks when it is nice outside, I love seeing inside houses when it is softly lit at dusk.

90. I don't have a register to my checkbook.

91. I openly want to go to Cuba. It is my number one destination.

92. I have been to the World's largest ball of twine (the real one)

93. I have Trichotillomannia, kind of.

94. I have never tasted a big mac, whopper, or any other hamburger at fast food restaurants. I promise.

95. I have this fantasy of being locked in after hours at the National Gallery in London or Sephora works too.

96. I have a hard time saying no to my sisters

97. I am so glad I'm in my 30's.

98. I wish I could grant everyone one wish in their life, but the stipulations on that wish would be it could be nothing to do with wealth or materialistic value

99. I love the smell of newly opened cans of tennis balls. AWESOME!

100. I'm becoming a DOG person. Yes, you read that correctly. HOWEVER, an outside dog person mostly.