How I Spent My Summer Vacation

I stood in front of a massive bed with a canopy and rich velvety draperies. The mattress was so high off the floor that you’d need steps to climb into it. I wondered if I could actually get away with spending the night in a museum, like the kids in one of my favorite books, The Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. My mom and sister moved on, so I reluctantly followed. After touring the rest of the Kansas City museum, we spread a blanket in a nearby park and enjoyed a picnic with sandwiches brought all the way from home.

No, dear readers, this didn’t happen in the summer of 2012. It’s one of my best memories from the gallery of vacations past. It’s interesting to think about why certain memories stick with us, and what it says about our personality. As you can see from this one, I enjoy history, have an active imagination and I’m an avid reader. Food is obviously very important in my life.

My husband shared that his favorite vacation memories involve spending time with his three male cousins on their farm in Eastern Texas. He also has great stories about the trips to and from in his dad’s pickup. I’m guessing he liked this because he grew up with a sister in his house and two female cousins who lived next door. The trips to Texas allowed some rough and tumble boy stuff. Great times.

My three children shared their vacations until they married, but different things stand out in their minds.

The oldest son remembers a trip to St. Louis where we stayed in a hotel close enough to walk to and from the Cardinals game. To this day, he loves blending in with the locals, instead of looking like a tourist wherever he goes

The middle son recalls a trip to Nashville where everything was included in the package we purchased, and we followed a schedule for bus tours to the local sites. He still enjoys the “canned trips”, and enjoyed his first cruise with his wife.

Our daughter remembers seeing most of the sights from the back seat of our car, always in the middle between her older brothers. Her current love of country music was fostered by the serenades her daddy and I provided as we sang along with our classic country cassettes.

What memories will our grands retain from the annual Granny Camps? The oldest continues to talk about a trip to the submarine docked in Downtown Little Rock, and now builds all manner of ships with his Legos blocks. However, this year, all four enjoyed sitting at my kitchen table with markers and paper, and balsa-wood models and glue. Do you think this will spark even more creativity in the Carlisle cousins?

 As a follow-up to last month’s column, an eight year old friend of ours will remember this summer as the one he spent at Arkansas Children’s Hospital getting a new heart.  As we’re writing this, he’s living at Ronald McDonald house, waiting for the go-ahead to head home. His mom says she never knew she would be so grateful to see pink fingernails and chubby cheeks. Of course, we realize that another family somewhere will look back on this time with great sorrow, but we applaud their courageous decision, and hope that the two families will meet someday to encourage each other in person.

The end of the summer drought has arrived, and we now look forward to county fairs, caramel apples and chrysanthemums. Though at times we doubted it, we have survived. At my house, I’ve been enjoying the life of a retiree. My alarm clock is growing dusty from lack of use. I get up a full hour and a half later than I did last spring. I have the option to cook breakfast at home, or relax at a local restaurant. Shopping means taking my time, checking out all of the choices, no rush, no fuss. I’ve actually stayed caught up on my laundry, kept an appointment with the dentist for the first time in years, and visited with dear friends- in the daytime on a weekday. This summer will be memorable as the first one without a Monday-Friday job. Changes may be on the horizon again, but Oh, what a summer vacation it has been.      

                   

The Forest or the Trees?

Increasingly, I identify with the old adage that talks about how our perspective can be skewed when we are too close to a situation. Sometimes, it’s hard to look at the big picture. The small view may be so immediate that we just can’t get past it.

When I was in charge of teaching Cub Scouts about nature at Day Camp, I used an exercise that I renamed “Honey, I Shrunk the World”. This involved sitting on the ground with legs crossed Indian-style, and throwing a loop of rope down in front of ourselves. After all of our little “worlds” were formed, we took turns describing what was contained there. Many things were the same, but we noticed differences. Some had more green grass, or fewer rocks than others. Maybe there was even wildlife, in the form of an ant-hill. We might have been fortunate enough to lasso a lizard. The idea was to remind these budding ecologists of the complexity and detail of God’s creation. I think it also reminded our young campers that none of us have the same view of what happens around us. After all, the world we come from is a little different than our next-door neighbor’s.

At the opposite extreme, I’ve often been fascinated by the changing view as I’ve flown higher and higher in an airplane. Vehicles that are large enough to contain several fully grown humans began to look like the toys my youngsters played with. Eventually, they looked more like bugs scurrying about, and then disappeared from view altogether. Fields that had been cleared for farming stood out against the forested landscape. They started to look like patches in a crazy quilt, with bodies of water edging them like blue rick-rack.

From my semi-comfortable perch in the sky, I thought about the drama that might be unfolding beneath me. Families were going about their daily business. Happy times and sad times played out while I soared above, oblivious to the details.

During a recent brush-fire, we literally had a bird’s eye view from a distant mountain-top. From our balcony at Mount Magazine lodge, we could see the plume of smoke, and with binoculars, the flames that were consuming acres of trees and brush, and threatening lives and property. Residents and firefighters endured a nightmare. From our perspective, it appeared as an aberration to the beautiful landscape, but with the comfort of our air-conditioned room close at hand, it provided no real threat.

There are times in our lives when we focus on tiny details. During a crisis in our own life, or in the life of someone we care about, we can’t get past the next change of a bandage, the next dose of medicine, the last news we heard from a doctor.

A young mother who is a long time friend of ours currently sits at the bedside of her son, who is awaiting a heart transplant. She endures criticism from those who think she posts too many status updates online. They have no experience with the minutiae she deals with, and can only hope to never need knowledge of such things. Others who have been through a similar situation are able to interpret the confusing details for her, and offer concrete suggestions and encouragement. The rest of us simply promise prayers, and send gifts and postcards to try to provide a more cheerful atmosphere. Social media provides a lifeline, a way to reach out for a cyber hug when it’s needed.

On the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, young people will be competing for medals in the weeks ahead. We won’t have to wait for a weekly tally of results, as technology will allow us to watch in real-time if we so desire. But, from our easy chairs, we can’t possibly have the same sweaty palms, butterfly laden stomachs and adrenalin charged heartbeats as those who are there in person. It’s all about perspective.

Whether you’re on the ground gazing up through the branches, or soaring high above the treetops, your view of life is unique and important. The rest of us will just do our best to understand.