Seasons of Our Lives - Lifescapesmemoirs.net

149 Pages·2008·7.28 MB·English

by  Larry Machado

Seasons of Our Lives

Lifescapes 2008 Anthology
This anthology was created as part of the Lifescapes Senior Writing
Program. Lifescapes is a collaboration between the Washoe County
Library System, Osher Lifelong Learning Institute (OLLI, formerly
ElderCollege), and the University of Nevada English Department, with
funding by Nevada Humanities, OLLI, and Lynn Mahannah. There are
eight writing sites that contributed to this year’s anthology: Incline
Village Library, Northwest Reno Library, OLLI, Sierra View Library, South
Valleys Library, Sparks Library, and Verdi Library.

Copyright © 2008 by the authors

Editorial team: Ken Adams, Kathy Berndt, Leslie Burke,
Stephanie Church, Margo Daniels, Bud Fujii, Grace Fujii,
Andrew Ivanov, Sherl Landers-Thorman, Julie Machado,
Phyllis Rogers, Kenn Rohrs and Lois Smyres.

Cover design: Lois Smyres
Cover photography: Gary Smyres

Sparks Library Press
th
1125 12 Street
Sparks, NV 89431
www.lifescapesmemoirs.net
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Prologue
Artistic License in Memoir-Biography Imperative

Andrew Ivanov

We may not realize, but we, in our Lifescapes memoir writing
group are at the forefront of the latest renaissance of bio-memoirs by
individual people. In other countries “biographies” still exist as state
censored propaganda – idolizing dictators, tyrants, kings, shahs, and
other regents as well as religious demiurges, popes, fanatical martyrs,
saints all reverently embellished.
Thanks to our socio-political significance, we are an open society.
We are no longer constrained by ideologies or the rich and famous
biographies only, nor held back by some post-Victorian rule of facts and
only facts. Our own memories: autobiographical accounts, portraits of
loved ones, childhood episodes, pets, other animals as well as inanimate
objects come alive, however reverently or irreverently embellished are
coming out in volumes.
We are the seniors who were once bound in our earlier education
by some questionably doubtful rules of conformity to our betters. We are
no longer enchained or held back by the barriers of social respectability
in some die-hard Victorian slovenly mode where the upper society felt
threatened. We are the antiheroes of today, writing our own bio-
memories, confessions or other exposures. Let it be fact, as anyone of us
feels or remembers, or let it be fiction.
Every one of us has a story to tell and it is our imperative to post it
for our posterity.
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Ivanov, Andrew / Prologue
TABLE OF CONTENTS

SPRING
Anastassatos, Popi Garos / Word Fatigue / p. 8
Cothren, Bev / Music / p. 10
Early, Esther / Seasons / p. 12
Edwards, Sharon / Crisp Toast / p. 14
Fronefield, Marsha O’Lynn / My Surfin’ Surfari / p. 15
Hamilton, Maxine / Seasons of Our Lives / p. 17
Harvey, Bev / The Birthday Party / p. 19
Johnson-Lanni, Elizabeth / Seasons of My Life – An Analogy / p. 21
Pirozzi, Janet / Free Spirit? / p. 23
Roes, Glenda Raye / The Springtime of My Life / p. 25
Spain, Doris / A Lesson For Life, From the Robins / p. 27
Sprecher, Annette / Thank You ElderCollege / p. 29
Thorsteinsson, Janice / The Outhouse / p. 31
Vera, Vickie / Let Spring Come Soon / p. 33
Walker, Billie / I’m Happy / p. 36
Welsh, Marcy / When Granddad died… / p. 37

SUMMER
Abdo, Ronald / Becoming My Own Man / p. 39
Albright, Lora / The Recipe Box / p. 41
Clark, Phyllis / Learning to Wait / p. 42
DeBoer, John / I See President Carter Making a Decision / p. 44
Eaton, Robert / Seattle World’s Fair – 1962 / p. 46
Goodrich, Martha / Canning Season / p. 48
Gunther, John / “Our Endless Summer of Love” / p. 50
Johnson, Reba Sue / The Sizzling Days of Summer / p. 52
Krapp, Ina / The Learning Season / p. 54
Landers-Thorman, Sherl / Sunshine Kind of Girl / p. 56
Laurentzen, Steve / Our Dad and Lujon’s Acres / p. 58
Marquardt, Betty Lou / The Green Forest Facility / p. 60
Maxwell, June / My Ice Cream Cone / p. 62
Metscher, William J. / Young Explorers or Damned Fools / p. 63
Murino, Janet / From There to Here / p. 65
Rogers, Phyllis / Heat and Height / p. 67
Rosser, Gwen / Summer in Yosemite: Camping with a Neighbor / p. 69
Smyres, Lois / Food Memories / p. 71
Sorgen, Lois / Lost & Found / p. 73
Sulahria, Julie / Color Perfect / p. 75
Whiting, Floyd / Sea Seasoning – Shedding A self-conscious Shell / p. 77
Zimmerman, Patricia / The Turbulent 60’s and 70’s / p. 79

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FALL
Adams, Ken / FINE---JUST FINE / p. 82
Anderson, Steve / New Life in a New Location – Elgin to Reno / p. 83
Bayard de Volo, Louise / Help! My Leaves are Turning / p. 85
Corbelli, Jan / Illumination of Life Through a Season of Loss / p. 87
Elorza, Sharon / Halloween That Was / p. 89
Fowler, Jeanne / 9/11 and our Trip to Japan / p. 91
Greenberg, Helaine / Abduction 101 / p. 93
Ivanov, Andrew / Seasons / October Storm 2007 / p. 95
Jensen, Bette / Meanderings of the Mind (of a ten year old) / p. 96
Kennedy, Sue / Autumn Splendor / p. 98
Kenyon, Madeline / September 1942 / p. 100
Mahannah, Lynn / Falling in the Cactus Patch: Love at First Sight / p.102
Paraiso, Nancy / Bus Ride on my Way to OLLI / p. 104
Perrin, Sybil / A Lesson Learned / p. 106
Spears, Margo / 1957---‘Twas the Year of the Bears / p. 108
Sulahria, M. Bashir / Model Volunteer / p. 110

WINTER
Altick, Shirley / Clutter / p. 113
Beckerman, Sandra “Sam” Phillips / Letter to My Grandbaby / p. 115
Cashman, Kay / Blizzard / p. 117
Chandler, Mary / Vigeland Park and Dad / p. 119
Cotter, Barbara / A Son is Born / p. 121
Daniels, Margo Heineman / Kindred Spirits / p. 123
Flint, Delos / Winter of Life / p. 125
France, Diane / Lessons Learned and Remembered / p. 127
Greene, Kathryn / College Years / p. 129
Griswold, Rita / A Close Call / p. 131
Hill, Flora / Holidays / p. 133
Irvin, Ed / Skiing at Bassum Park / p. 135
LeVee, Penny Burden / Seasons of the Heart / p. 137
Nadel, David / An Obituary As It Should Be Written / p. 139
Parks, Joe / Dad’s Soul / p. 140
Rohrs, Kenneth A. / A Reddi-wip Christmas / p. 142
Starling, Joyce / A Tale of Two Barts / p. 144
Weiss, Barbara / That Old House / p. 146
Yardic, Deanna / Cinderella Season / p. 148

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SPRING

7
Word Fatigue

Popi Garos Anastassatos

I plopped my exhausted body in bed, propped my achy legs up on the
wall, took a deep breath and painfully realized how tired I was in all aspects of
my being. I heard Mom’s voice from the kitchen:

“Popi are you ready for dinner?” “No, I want to rest for a while.”

I was twenty years old and it was hard to understand how tired I felt.
Yes, I was on my high heel shoes selling all day in a department store about two
weeks before Christmas. Yes, it was overwhelmingly busy, but this tired? I
could understand the physical aspect of it, but the mental and emotional
exhaustion was overriding everything else.

Before my family had moved to the United States, I was looking so very
much forward to plunging into the new society, making friends, meeting new
people and experiencing different life activities. I truly wanted to assimilate into
this new culture and way of living.

However, I was watching myself getting into my own cocoon deeper and
tighter as time went by. Co-workers were trying to create relationships with me
and include me in some of their social activities. But I very skillfully was
avoiding most of everything that my American acquaintances were offering. I
found myself seeking more and more people of the Greek Diaspora as friends
who could speak my language and provide the companionship I needed. It was
comforting to be with people who understood what I said and vice versa, who
got a big kick with the humor we were all familiar with and who were meeting
the same challenges daily as I was. This tendency, however, was so very much
against what deep inside I had longed for. Puzzled by all this, I decided one day
to stop and think long and hard about the situation. I needed to know why my
desires for integration were shifting direction.

My first job as a sales person was hectic; in my second job, answering
telephones as a bank customer service person, I had no idea about any part of
the banking industry so the terminology was completely foreign to me. The
stress generated the worst acne case I had ever encountered. My mental and
emotional condition during that period of time was deeply traumatized. As I
thought about it, the common denominator here was not the kind of work I was
performing; rather it was the challenge of communicating in a new language.

The English language I had studied for six years as a second language in
Greece was unadulterated English. The words were spoken clearly, with
authentic English pronunciation. The conversations in school were simple and
easy but limited to the curriculum approved by the English Institute. Before I
left Greece, I strongly believed that my knowledge of English was very good and
had prepared me adequately to mesh into the American society and work force
as soon as I arrived there.
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The rude awakening of reality hit me hard. It felt exhausting and painful
to be part of the new society. I had to see what I needed to do about it. My
decision was to think long and hard, to explain it in my head and understand
it. The first thing that popped in my head was various conversations I had in
the course of every day. What I realized to my amazement was that a
complicated process was taking place in the cognitive portion of my brain when
I was conversing in English. Automatically and subconsciously I was
translating everything that was said to me in English into Greek. Greek was the
level of best understanding. Then in my head I was forming an answer in Greek
which I translated into English before I communicated it to the American
person. That complicated and laborious process was taking place all the time I
was communicating with American people.

Compounding this situation were three more issues making
communication so difficult for me. First of all the Washington DC area, where
my family settled down at first, had a large population of southerners with a
dialect which sounded like a different language to me. The second issue was
how fast every American person spoke. It was impossible to catch everything
they were saying. I caught the first part of a sentence but then I missed most of
the rest. The third difficulty was the way words ran together. Instead of “you
call them” I heard “you callem” and I could not figure out for the life of me what
the word “callem” was.

Finally the mystery of my mental and emotional exhaustion in
communicating with the American people had been uncovered. Now I also
understood why I was shying away from social exposure to American crowds.
The process of communication was so involved that it took a lot of my energy to
be able to do it. However, it was what it was and I could not change it no matter
how hard I tried. That’s how my brain needed to work in order to interact within
a new language.

I went along with it for years although things were getting slightly easier
as time went on. Suddenly one day right after a conversation a delightful
discovery occurred! The complicated translating process in my head had not
taken place! I had communicated with someone and the whole time I was able
to think and respond in English! I could not believe it! It had been ten whole
years since I had immigrated to the United States and just now I could utilize
only the American language in my daily interactions!

I was so relieved! My face was not wide enough for the smile that
surfaced straight from the core of my being. I had integrated verbally at last!

Popi was born in Athens, Greece. She immigrated with her family to the United
States when she was twenty years old. She moved from the Washington DC area
to Reno after she married her husband Spiros. The couple has three sons and
eight grandchildren and they are still residing in the Reno area.
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Music

Beverly Cothren

Music has always important in my life. When I was in third grade
in Birmingham, I was chosen to lead our little rhythm band in their
rendition of the “Blue Danube.” At the same time I was taking tap
dancing lessons, ballet and acrobatics. I have vague memories of “Shuffle
Off to Buffalo” and “Black, Black Bottom” for which I wore a black satin
outfit.
As an adolescent, my friends and I learned every word of the
popular songs and could sing along with the radio. Sheet music was
available with all the words. Most every house had a piano and in the
summertime with the windows and doors open you could usually hear
someone practicing. My dad sang sometimes with a barbershop quartet
and his sister did a little opera singing.
I don’t recall my mother singing much except in church even
though she played the piano. When we lived in the Smoky Mountains,
she wouldn’t let us listen to country music. She thought it was coarse or
crude and she would say, “Turn to another station or turn it off.”
I sang in the Episcopal Choir for a while. It was not because I had
a great voice but the church was small and they needed anyone who
could make a happy sound. It was not an experience I remember
pleasantly because the vestments were very hot in that hot, humid
climate. I did learn a lot of traditional hymns.
In Virginia, I met my future husband. He was a fan of the big
bands like Benny Goodman and Harry James. He lived close enough so
that he could take a train to New York City and see them perform. He
had a large collection of the big, black, heavy phonograph records that
we later carted back and forth across the country when we moved. Most
of our dating was dancing at the Chamberlain Hotel in Fort Monroe.
Later we danced to small combos in Los Angeles.
When I was a Girl Scout leader, we learned hundreds of songs and
these fourth and fifth graders sang constantly.
Recently, my children gave me an IPOD Shuffle for my birthday. It
is about 1-½ inches by 1 inch by ½ inch. A computer must charge it and
music is downloaded from ITunes. It is an amazing experience to be able
to type in a singer, a song, or composer and hear a snatch of any song I
ever heard. I use it every day when I go to the gym. Music helps me enjoy
exercising. I can always move better to “Chorus Line” or Bobby Darin’s
“Hello Dolly.”

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