When you volunteer, are you giving or receiving?


Haven’t posted much these last few weeks because I started a volunteer position.  I wasn’t prepapred for the astonishing outcome, but it just goes to show that God knows where he wants you next, you just have to trust in Him.

I enjoy my leisure time since retiring and spend many hours writing.  Still, I yearned to become involved in an organization that would give me a sense of purpose.  As I skimmed a list of volunteer opportunities in my local newspaper, my eyes settled on two words, Story Keepers.  I paused to read more. 

VITAS Story Keepers capture the meaningful moments of a patient’s life.  The simple description intrigued me; yet, the thought of volunteering with a hospice care organization concerned me.  The emotional pain of watching my mother die a slow, difficult death from Alzheimer’s still weighed heavily on my heart.  I was not sure if I was ready for the task. 

I kept the clipping visible over the next week.  Finally, I picked up the phone and contacted the manager of volunteer services, Angela O’Hara, to learn more about the position.  Ms. O’Hara talked with me at length and explained that the position involved making an audio recording of the patient’s life.  Although I understood it would not involve writing in the capacity I had hoped, the thought of helping someone else document their life compelled me to become a Story Keeper.

 I completing all the necessary paperwork and training material provided by VITAS within a week.  It wasn’t long before I received the name of my first patient to interview.  Ms. O’Hara and I met the patient and his wife in their home.  After brief introductions, we settled down on the sofa and began conversing to get to know the elderly couple and to make them feel at ease with the Story Keeper process.

 The interview took an unusual and remarkable turn when the patient told us the school he attended.  I shared with him that I was familiar with the school, as I had attended a school in a bordering neighborhood.  Simultaneously, the patient and his wife remarked that she also attended the school which I mentioned.  The wife then turned to me and asked me if I was the daughter of Dorothy Hootselle (my mother).  She said she could see the resemblance when I first arrived, but could not place who I looked like.

 She introduced herself as my grandmother’s niece, who grew up just two blocks from my childhood home.  Both she and her husband knew my family intimately and shared stories with me that I would never have heard had it not been for the visit.  The patient’s wife even shared that my grandfather had saved her when she nearly drowned in a river.

The emotional journey over the next hour was overwhelming and rewarding.  The wonderful stories about my mother and her parents brought such joy to my heart, I left feeling like I was given a gift, one that I would treasure for life and share with my siblings.

Over the next few visits, I recorded heartwarming and memorable stories told to me by the patient and his wife.  From their heritage, to their marriage and their many life experiences, we worked together using the comprehensive questions offered in the Story Keepers Shared Stories User Guide to provide a gift for their children, grandchildren and future generations.  We completed the project and presented the audio recording to them on the patient’s 84th birthday.  The smile on their faces spoke volumes.

Being a Story Keeper for VITAS has provided me with a rewarding opportunity to influence the life of another.  The unexpected bonus of meeting two people who fulfilled a void in my life made the experience astonishing.  It is another example of how there is a thread of life that connects us all.

Crazy Family Traditions: A Dime a Dozen or a Dozen Dimes?


Over the years I’ve heard many stories about pennies from Heaven or a penny for your thought.  I’ve heard Don’t take any wooden nickels on more than one occasion.  In our family, the coin of choice seems to be a dime.

Who knows how it started, but my grandfather, who had a delightful sense of humor and seemed to always find a way to make a buck, would tell anyone who asked to use the bathroom to leave a dime, followed by one of his hearty chuckles.  I don’t remember ever seeing a dime on the commode, perhaps because back in the fifties, 10 cents could actually buy a bottle of coke or some other necessity. (yes, a bottle of Coke is a necessity when the temperatures exceed 100 degrees for more than a week!)

Sometime this past year, a family member decided to dust off my grandfather’s urging and take it to another level.  I began finding the small shiny coins accumulating whenever the culprit visited.  Others decided to join in the fun.  It wasn’t long before a pile formed.  It became a nuisance to clean around them, but I didn’t feel right putting them in my purse and spending them.

While I appreciated the humor and generous donations, I needed to find a way to dispense of the silly deed before it became a new tradition.  I decided to post a little ditty on the wall above the dimes.  It goes like this:

We’ll always remember that our Grandpa once said

Please leave a donation if you’re using the head

But traditions have changed along with the times

You’re no longer required to leave a few dimes

Now here’s the dilemma, there’s been overflow

Someone too generous and not in the know

Please take back your donation; now don’t make me frown

And remember the seat should always be down

Thanks, The Establishment

So does your family have any silly family traditions that have gotten out of hand?  I’d love to hear about them.

Should Matriarchs drink red wine?


A few years ago my sister-in-law startled me when she announced that I was the Matriarch of the family now that my mother had passed.  The role, bestowed upon me as the oldest daughter, sounded foreign when in fact, I had stepped into the position quietly without much thought.

Preparing for a family gathering usually begins a few days in advance with shopping, cooking and cleaning.  Our modest-size home becomes a gathering place for twenty to thirty loving, laughing and sometimes messy guests.  Those who aren’t standing in the kitchen flow into the dining and living rooms.  After that they spill out onto the deck or downstairs into the den.

Hosting the events brings much joy to me and my husband, but by the time the last one is ushered out the door, I must admit, exhaustion sets in and I appreciate the next few hours of quiet solitude.  When every counter has been wiped and crumb vacuumed up, I love to indulge myself by uncorking a bottle of my favorite red wine.

That is exactly what I did last year after a summer barbeque.  I caressed the half-filled glass of Merlot and gently placed it on the end table next to the couch.  After filling a small bowl with a few left-over strawberries, I sat down on the sofa and reached for the goblet in anticipation of the succulent reward.  The delicate glass tipped forward and touched the ceramic lamp, shattering and sending shards of glass and crimson liquid in every direction.

Wine dripped through the slate squares of the table onto the beige carpet.  I quickly removed the lamp and pulled the table into the nearby kitchen where it proceeded to drip across the tiled floor.  The sticky fluid trailed down the wall much like tears that streamed down my face.  The few ounces of joy poured in anticipation of relaxation seemed to multiply like biblical bread.

My husband appeared on the scene within seconds, not so much for support, but to scream “What the heck did you do that for?”

“Because you hadn’t screamed at me for a while!” I replied in frustration.

It took every last ounce of cleaner and energy we had to eradicate the disaster without any permanent damage.  The fear of experiencing that nightmare again won’t keep me from fulfilling my role as Matriarch, but it has made me seriously contemplate becoming a Chardonnay junky or maybe I’ll invest in a Sippy cup and stick to my dry reds.

There’s No Place Like Home


Like a cobra that refuses to relinquish its grip, unrelenting heat waves are squeezing the breath from folks across the United States.  My escapes outside are limited to essential missions.  I find myself planted in front of the computer, browsing through blogs, dreaming of faraway places that I long to visit.

Going Dutch, by Malou, http://malouprestado.files.wordpress.com offers the reader to escape to picturesque fields of tulips and poppies.  Recently, she shared stunningly beautiful pictures from a family vacation in Tuscany.  The breathtaking photos captivated me and made me long to journey to such romantic places.

It is a dream for another day and while I lingered a little longer than I had anticipated, the time spent was not wasted.  It inspired me to write about the delightful opportunities that are offered here in Missouri.  For the next few weeks, I will revisit some of my most favorite locations and invite readers to ponder the possibilities of vacationing in Missouri.

The historic downtown St. Charles is one of my favorite places to spend the day.  The 16 acre Frontier Park boarders the Missouri River and hosts many events throughout the year.  The Festival of the Little Hills, to be held August 17-19, 2012, attracts 300,000 visitors each year and provides a stage front for the 300 craft booths, food, live music and entertainment that line the streets of the Historic St. Charles Downtown District.  The great thing about this event is that I can get an early start on my Christmas shopping then grab a funnel cake or roasted ear of corn and sit a while in the park listening to the wide variety of music.

Speaking of music, Music on Mainstreet fills the Jaycee’s Stage on the third Wednesday from May through September at 5:00 p.m.  The St. Charles Municipal Band Free Concerts invite everyone to bring their lawn chairs on Thursdays June through August at 8:00 p.m. to tap their toes in the grass.  Some of my fondest memories came from watching my mother’s face light up when she recognized a song from her era.  Somehow, the music transcended her from the struggles of Alzheimer’s disease to another time.  She knew every word and sang along softly, all the while keeping a beat with her frail hands.

History buffs will enjoy the wonderful statues found throughout the park and along Main Street.  The Lewis and Clark Boat House and Nature Center is a great place to start.  The county was established in 1812 and played a significant role in the westward expansion of our country when the Lewis and Clark Expedition departed from the banks of St. Charles.

Wear comfortable shoes because there is much to see and do.  The 240-mile Katy Trail, a paved biking and hiking path borders the park along with the MKT Depot.  If this peaks your interest, check out the website at http://www.stcharlescountywebsite.com

The quaint shops and delectable restaurants provide for a leisurely stroll down Main Street.  If you make it all the way to the end, you can visit the Foundry Art Center and some of the pubs that offer reprieve to summer’s strain.

My journey will continue through other delightful parks and attractions.  I hope you join along and share a story or two with me about your home town vacation.