What?!

Yesterday I went to rehearsal for the Boise Choristers. I guess I'll sing with them again. They called and asked me to, although I don't think they need me. Not the point of this post.

After rehearsal a couple of women and I were chatting. One said to me, "I understand your brother died."

A bit startling (that's an understatement; I was stunned and confused), especially since I tried for two days to call him--without success. I tried three different numbers. None worked. Even my other brother couldn't get the right number.And one wonders why and how to get the right number.

I had to respond to her, so I stuttered, "I don't think so."

The other woman, no doubt seeing the look on my face, said to me, "Well, you would know."

Not necessarily. But I didn't say it out loud. Didn't want to go into all that.

What I said was, "He had a birthday last Saturday."

The first woman said, "Oh yes. That was what I read about him."

Relief.

I didn't lecture her about the need for careful reading, especially if you're going to tell the news abroad.

Up In the Night

Last night, around 3:30 a.m., a fire engine pulled up in front of Pecoras' house and stayed about an hour. Yes, I was awake. Besides, a fire engine is a big, noisy, vehicle, and the firemen left the engine running. This is not the real issue here, except to note that I was up and witness to it.

I saw two firemen go into the house. I do not know what was the matter. I do know that Ken is failing in health, and Shirley is concerned. I do not know if the problem was with the house or with someone in it.

Shirley is in her 80s, a slight, slender woman who is absolutely the strongest, fittest octogenarian I have ever known. She does everything. All yard work--and it's a big yard--all snow shoveling and blowing. And everything inside the house that needs to be done.

She takes her daily walk in the evenings, possibly after she has seen that Ken is in bed. Ken used to do a lot, but he does no more. This year, he has hardly come out of the house.

So, of course, my mind would go to him.

I heard the fire engine leave but did not see if they took Ken with them. I will go over and ask Shirley if all is well. You can't tell by looking at the house, you know.

I'll give her another hour or so.

*     *     *

I didn't wait an hour.

No one answers the door. I went over and told my neighbor Dave about last night. They and Pecoras have been neighbors many years. He did not see or hear the fire engine. No sirens, of course.

Dave and George were in the Pecora home last Saturday to give Ken a blessing.

After I spoke to Dave, he looked in the garage window. Shirley's car is gone. He looked in the front window. Ken is not lying on the couch. Dave will call the hospital and find out what he can. He will let me know.

I thought last night there will be a funeral soon. But maybe that's just how I think.

*     *     *

 Update:

Ken fell out of bed in the middle of the night. Shirley called the fire department for help. It required three men to lift Ken. The ambulance came last night and took Ken to the ER. He is low on sodium and potassium. They will keep him overnight. Shirley will stay with him.

Sunday update:
Ken has been in ICU, is now in a regular room, is responding well and looking better. So says my neighbor, Dave. 

Monday: Ken is now at Elk's Rehab. I will not keep updating. 

The Silly Widow or Maybe Just Too Sentimental

Every now and then I come across something of Wayne's. Like the Seminary notebook, a seminary teacher's notebook. It's old and of no use. The loose-leaf binder is in perfect condition, but it's red and has words and pictures imprinted on the front to tell what it is. It's of no value to me, and there is no reason I should keep it, but it's very hard for me to throw it away.

Or the other two plain black binders. I don't even know if school kids use binders anymore. These binders won't hold an iPad or even a cell phone, only papers, so probably not.

There are other things. I mean, I know that I have kept certain things, but I forget about them. You know?

Just yesterday I saw again Wayne's pillow. King size. And I have not ever in more than 11 years removed the pillow case to wash it. That's on purpose. I know it's silly to keep it. I don't use the pillow, and I haven't held it up to my nose for years. I suppose you know why I used to put it up to my nose.

I'm pretty sure I'll keep the pillow just as it is.  Can't make myself get rid of it.

Here's a Start

I am Alyce Carol Brimley Schiess, and I am a Mormon.

That means I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. But for me being a Mormon means more than the church I attend.

For me, a Mormon is who I am every day.

It also means I am a follower of Jesus Christ. I acknowledge my many imperfections. Still, I say I am a disciple of Jesus Christ, and I strive to treat others with respect and kindness, as Jesus taught.

And again, I am a Mormon, by heritage and by choice.