Return trip to the Palouse

My grandma Joyce Mae Druffel Heitstuman passed away on May 6. The call came from my mom about two hours after we pulled into the driveway on our return from Pullman for Gretchen's graduation. She'd ill for a while, and though she'd rallied in the past from a similar medical situation, she wasn't up for it this time. I'm quite certain that I'll miss her the rest of my life. 

Due to some crazy logistics, I ended up flying back to Spokane on Wednesday, hanging out with my sister, and then going down to Colton on Friday. Where, in true Colton fashion, I was soon drafted into moving farm machinery with my dad. They'd had a wet spring and couldn't get into the fields until the second weekend in May. It was a frantic race to get so many things done. 

My cousin Blake had to instruct dad on hooking things up. 

What, you've never moved farm equipment during your bereavement leave?

My chore at my grandmothers house was to fluff her garden beds in advance of the post-funeral open house. Remember my post from yesterday saying I needed to expand my color range? Yeah... my grandmother seemed to get it right. Check out her raised beds:

One interesting thing about my Whitman County family: they don't mulch their garden beds. I don't know why? I suspect it has to do with spending the money on mulch? That they'd rather have to hoe the garden than spread mulch? Or have to water daily since water evaporates more quickly? Either way, it's a mystery to me. 

In addition to spring bloomers, she had an interesting variety of sedums and succulents worked in.

Though the weather was beautifully spring-like the four days I was there, it did get cold at night. So cold, in fact, that my dad and uncle raced out of the house at 10pm to drain the water from a piece of seeding equipment in fear of a freeze. Good thing they did; it got down to 23 degrees. Down to 20 out at my grandma Jan's farm. Check out the difference between these two plants; the one against the foundation made it and the more exposed version didn't.

In a really funny twist of fate, my childhood friend Sarah is dating a wonderful guy whose dad is from Colton. Jeff's dad graduated with one of my dad's brothers. It's a small world. Since they'd have a place to stay, and since Sarah knew my grandparents well too, they came over for the service. It was very sweet of them. Sarah got to see my dad's mom, Grandma Jan.

 There are more stories to tell, of course. I'm still processing it in a major way. I'll miss my grandmother, but I'm relieved that she's out of pain. It was nice to have a chance to visit with friends and family, and nice to be in Whitman County on such a beautiful spring weekend.

Hard to find the words

Sometimes I fall off the blogging wagon and struggle to get back on.

There have been a lot of things going on lately, and yet... not much to write about. Or, not much I can adequately put to words. Maybe a good way to do it is go through the recent cell phone photos and tell you the stories behind them?

Lets start with this one: of my mom's birthday dinner at my grandparents house.

It's a blurry cell phone picture. If I could set up this picture again, I'd have a nice DSLR camera, with a timer on it. I'd put the camera on a shelf facing the dinner table, set the shutter on continuous mode, and the camera would capture images of the lit candles, the smile on my mom's face, and my grandparents singing "Happy Birthday" to her as she blew the candles out. Somehow the camera would capture the sound of my Grandma's light (alto? soprano?) and my Grandpa's deep baritone.

The camera would not remember the shit storm of an argument Gretchen and I walked in to that Sunday afternoon, as we came over to make a Sunday birthday dinner for my mom. I think all families have this argument at some point; failing health, elderly grandparents, working adult children, lack of in-home care in rural America, the difficult decisions that must be made. What we don't talk about is the fear of losing the ones we love, losing the traditions and memories and institutional family knowledge that comes with their impending death.

It is hard.

I was in eastern Washington that weekend, over Veteran's Day, to visit my sister for "Dad's weekend" at Washington State. Since dad was a little busy playing at Sacramento, I was the stand-in. We ended up down on the field before the game, due to Gretch's participation in a student booster group. My mom was in the area too, so we were able to snag tickets from a friend on the WSU coaching staff and all sit together for the game. In a snowstorm that looked like this:

Pretty epic. The best part was the come-from-behind victory.

And... less than a month later, 'Cougar football has reminded me why sometimes college football can be cruel. You see, the 'Cougs head coach used to work for my dad. He stayed on at Eastern Washington University when my dad left for MSU. After his first wife died of a brain tumor, he remarried and now has a son and a stepdaughter. In 2007 WSU fired their football coach (whose wife, ironically, had died of ovarian cancer the year before) and our friend was hired at his alma mater and where he played, WSU. Four years later, and about 3.5 weeks after this picture, Paul was fired from WSU.

I think I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder when it comes to people we know being fired. Seriously, all last week I was weepy and had a chest ache every time I think about it. It makes me sick.

And so, it seems the only thing to do is come home and cuddle this furball, who never fails to make me laugh:

(Don't fear, she punished me for this indignity by eating one of the glass ball ornaments the next day). 

At least the doggie knows how to hang out and roll with the punches.

How I feel

Sorry to leave that post up for so long. Not exactly a warm and cheery greeting when you come here.

I haven't posted in a while because I fell out of the habit. Because I haven't been sure what to say. Because there is a lot to say, and nothing to say, at the same time.

My grandma is dying. My grandpa is... hanging in there, though he's not all there, you know? I drove over to see them over Veteran's Day weekend in a visit which was simultaneously too short and too long.

I developed a cold on Thursday afternoon, and spent Friday home on the couch. We had wonderful houseguests for the weekend. They were here for the annual rivalry football game. We had a lovely visit.

Thanksgiving is in two days, and we've been whipsawed back and forth about the plans. First we're hosting, then we're going to grandmas, then we're hosting, now we're going to my parents. Someone just make a damn plan and stick with it.

I seem to have become pretty crabby and morose as the days have gotten shorter. I'm short tempered, quick to say something biting, crabby, petulant. And this cold has kept me from the gym, my usual coping mechanism. So now I feel grumpy, crabby and fat.

Dusty's brother finally got engaged, and I'm so happy. For them, of course, but for me too. As Brian seemed to drag his feet, I started to worry about how I'd keep his girlfriend as a friend if they broke up. So yes, I'm selfish even in that aspect.

I mentioned to Dusty last night that between Veterans Day and New Years Day is hard for me. Lots to do, and sometimes nothing to do, all at once. Short days, snowy weather, the stress of holiday shopping, etc.

Man, this cold needs to clear so I can get back to the gym!

The bell curve

I was supposed to drive to Whitman County to visit family last weekend, but by the first of March my schedule the Friday before and Monday after was so packed I couldn't make the trip worthwhile. I wanted to visit my sister and my mom, but mostly my grandmothers, whom I find increasingly fascinating as women.


My sister called at 6:20 on friday night. In typical dramatic Gretchen fashion, she'd already been crying.


"Grandma Joyce had a doctor's appointment today" she said of my 78 year old grandmother. " And the did a bunch of tests and found a bunch of cancerous masses."


(I can't remember the exact words, but that's the gist of it.)


We chatted for a few seconds longer. There was something about the cancer being related to why she'd needed pints of blood transfusions every other week, with no explanation as to where it was going. But really, I needed to get off of the phone with my sister as soon as I could to process those words. I remember saying, "Gretch, our grandparents are old" and "better fast an furious than slow and drawn out."


(Apparently I'm really awesome at consoling people, ps.)


My grandma Joyce is, likely, dying. This should come as no surprise, at her age and with her lengthy list of ailments.


My grandmother was born in the midst of the Great Depression in a farmhouse only recently electrified through FDR's Rural Electrification Agency. Parochial education and graduation from a private Catholic academy instilled a great sense of faith in her. At 17 years old she married the milk man and school bus driver; a dapper Bob Heitstuman who'd returned from a job with the railroad in Livingston, Montana to run his widowed mother's eastern Washington dairy farm. Together they raised four children on the farm, which they expanded through thrift and hard work. They now have eight grandchildren.


I wore her wedding dress as my own eight months ago last Thursday.


I often think of my grandmothers when considering mid-20th century history. I wonder how my grandma Joyce inwardly chafed at the gender roles assigned her. Did she find joy in the responsibilities assigned her by her conservative small-town values? Did she ever wonder what else was out there?


I spent summers with my grandparents while growing up. A week or two spent playing with cousins, eating popsicles on the back porch, reading too far into the night and not rolling out of bed until 10am when my cousins would wake me up. If I were to describe my "happy place", it might be dusk on the back porch of the Ranch style house my grandparents designed and built with their hands in 1954. With a book, a popsicle, the green back yard mowed into an Augusta gold course-like expanse, the sound of a mariners baseball game wafting through the screen door and the smell of blooming wheat.


These summer stays ended about when I was 14 and started playing basketball in the summer. I didn't have time to spend large blocks of my summer vacation devouring my grandma's Nora Roberts novels and lolling around aimlessly. My grandparents also purchased their first cabin on Lake Coeur d'Alene at this time, so we spent a lot of time together there.


I think aging is a bell curve. A gentle decline, then a steep precipice of lost energy, ability to drive, bowel control and dignity before flattening off in a slow taper towards the end. I can't seem to pinpoint where the bell curve began for my grandparents. It seems like they were strong and healthy and VITAL up until 2005 or so? And then I blinked and suddenly these people I loved so dearly were OLD. Walkers, canes, loss of driving privileges OLD.


So I've know in the depths of my heart that this call was inevitable. We all die someday. But what I wouldn't give to go back in time just a little and sit on the back porch for a while.

Dad's parents get married

My mom's parents were married in the fall of 1951. Sometime about a year later, Bob and Joyce threw a party at the little house they were renting in Colton.

A classmate of Bob's, Dan Kramer, called a girl he knew from school in Colton, and asked her to come with him to Bob and Joyce's party. Jan Reisenauer went with Dan Kramer to a party at the Heitstuman's, and married shortly thereafter.

Janet Reisenauer, 1952 graduation from Sacred Heart nursing school

All four of those people are my grandparents. See, small town. I told you.

Dan and Jan were married in October of 1954; in the same church in Colton that Bob and Joyce married in three years prior. I've never asked, but it's unlikely that Joyce Heitstuman attended, as by October 1954 she was nearly 9 months pregnant with my mom.

This is the first photo in their album. I'll share the rest over the next few weeks!

My family is from a small town...

No... really. A small town. Like it's the biggest it's ever been, at 350 people in 2010. Both of my parents are from Colton, Washington, and graduated in the class of 1972 together. With 19 other people.

Somewhere back in the the family tree I think some cousins are married.

But don't worry, I don't have a third arm coming out of my forehead... yet.

So how does this relate to the photo below? Well, I've been showing you photos of my mom's parent's wedding in 1951. And in the background of this wedding photo is my mom's dad's dad's blacksmith shop. Great grandfather ben was a blacksmith, who fathered 10+ (13? 11?) kids before dying just after the age of 40. Until I saw this photo, I'd never known where Ben's blacksmith shop was.

And why all the discussion about my parents being from a small town? Because this photo is from my other grandparent's wedding. Dan and Jan, my dad's parents, met at a party at my mom's parent's house, and were married in 1953.

Don't worry, I'll be sharing those photos too!

Wedding photos- Bob and Joyce wedding party

I wrote the other day about photos I had in mind for the wedding, and remembered our photographer asking me which of my grandparent's wedding photos they'd like to recreate. In looking through them, I suppose the only applicable one is that of the two of them: 

I'm surprised she kept the little jacket on for this photo, unless maybe it was taken in the church?

I wonder what color the wallpaper and carpet was? Teal, pink and mauve maybe?

It cracks me up that no one in theis photo is looking in the same direction!  Not to worry Gretch, I think this is a little too far for me :)

This is an easy-peasy photo to take of the wedding party. Of course, for us it'll only be four people!

Holy busy Batman!

Hey! I haven't posted in a week; sorry for being MIA! Actually, I was in Utah hiking last week (faked you out with the auto-posts, huh?). It was a great trip, and I'll post more about it shortly. In the meantime, I've got a staff report due today on a project that got increasingly complicated as I went through the staff report. Add that to 8 pissed off neighbors, and I've got myself a shitstorm here folks! Here's what's going on in my world:

• Farming: EFF. We're under a winter storm warning tonight. It snowed yesterday. And the day before that. My crocus blooms are dissapearing (gophers?), the tulips look warped, the hyacinths struggling, and the daffodils trying to pop. Kinda. The sugar snap peas I transplanted are holding up (but not growing), and none of the sweet peas I planted outside have sprouted. The onion sets are holding up too. We'll see. My inside starts are doing okay.
• Wedding: DOUBLE EFF!!! Holy shitballs EFF. I've got to get my arse in gear on that. It's like 8 weeks away! Specifically, we need to figure out flowers, food, and wedding bands this week.
• AOII: Graduation is on Sunday, so they chapter I advise for is going through the end of the year crazies and getting ready to move out of the house. This ='s more work for me!
• Puppy: Survived a week at Ava's while we hiked it out in Utah. She's still getting used to being at home, and with the weird weather yesterday ended up peeing inside three times. Damn. But I wouldn't really want to sink my little butt down in the frozen snow either...

In the meantime-- here's a Bob and Joyce wedding photo, of her boquet. My friend Joslyn, who is also our flower arranger, tells me that stephanosis (the little bell flowers shooting out of the boquet) are super expensive to include, as they have to be broken from the stem and then staked and wired into a boquet. And is that a tulip? Where did they get tulips in October? I think my grandmother still has that watch, and I've never seen Gramps wear his wedding band. My mom told me it broke into two pieces sometime in the 60's. I'll have to ask her what color her nail polish was!

Bob and Joyce, part II

After the ceremony, grandma Joyce's parents hosted a brunch at their house as a wedding reception.

The bridal party, maybe in the kitchen. A few things jump out as details. The cactus on the middle shelf to the left might be the Christmas cactus that my grandma has, and that I ned to get a start from. The girls kept their fake gloves on, as well as the little caps. Although the table cloth is lace, check out the table leg! 1950's aluminum, maybe? And the chairs to match? I wonder where the set is now? And check out the argyle socks the groomsmen are wearing! And my grandpa Bob, sitting to the left of my grandmother (right in the picture); so damn handsome!

My grandparent's parents are in this photo. The taller lady to the left is my great grandmother Kate Becker Heitstuman. She married a blacksmith in the 19teens, had my grandpa Bob in the 1920's, and was widowed in the 1940's after having 11 (or was it 13) children. Her oldest son Tom was killed in France in 1944, and is buried at the Epinal cemetery. By the time this photo was taken, I suspect she'd been a widow as long as she'd been a wife. My mom remembers her as a classy lady, who spent money very carefully, frugally, and cautiously, but well. She died at 94 years old in 1983.

My grandma's parents are to the right; Gen and Leo Druffel. She loved to swim, although that trait did not get passed along to her daugter. Gen had a stroke in her 50's, and Leo was exceptionally, maybe too, patient in helping her after that. He was a farmer, who was gregarious and gracious, and later in life lost a leg to diabetes. He'd putter around Colton in a golf cart, and my parents lived with him for a bit while dad was going to grad school at Washington State in the late 1970's. One day, as my dad lay under the sink trying to fix a drip, Leo famously told my dad: "Mike, you should quit going to school and get a real job like becoming a plumber!"

The details in the photo: the ladie's corsages, his tie, the pointed arch, the scalloped edges of the plates. What are they eating?  Who did the cooking?

Bob & Joyce

My family is Catholic. Extended, serious, give money and land, send your seven kids to Catholic school, full out mass Catholic. Since they came over from Germany, and settled in a Catholic farm community.

DJ and I will not be having a Catholic wedding. Simple eight-minute lakeside ceremony is our style. I'm a recovering Catholic. But I appreciate the traditions and customs that are reflected in my grandparents wedding ceremony photos.

(DJ: Dress photos ahead. Proceed at your own risk.)

Getting ready

I really am astoiunded by the quality of photography from my grandparent's wedding albums. Sure, there are "only" 20 photos instead of the 300 (of 1,000 shot) I'll get, but they are really good photos, and still encapuslate all of the wedding-day items that our photography will cover.

First, of course, is getting ready. This is Robert Heitstuman, aged 24, getting ready to be married early in the morning of October 3, 1951. I say early in the morning because their wedding ceremony was at 9 am, "Catholic Church Time", where before Vatican II women sat on the left with their heads covered, and men on the right. Full mass, although I'm not sure if it was in latin or not.

At 24 years of age, Bob had been fatherless for 15 years (father died when he was 9 years old). His older brothers Tom and Norm fought in World War II; Tom was killed in Normandy and is buried in the American cemetery at Epinol. Bob spent a few months working for the Northern Pacific Railroad, stationed out of Livingston, Montana (a story I want to examine more some day). He returned to Colton to help his mother with the farm, and also drove school bus, which is how he met Joyce Druffel.

Lets examine the details:

Double breasted suits, light in color. Rose bout for him, crysanthemum for his best man. Sculpted hair. I'm not even sure he needed to shave.

God, he was and still is handsome.

(DJ: Proceed at your own caution. Wedding dress photos ahead. I don't care if you see, but know you had reservations about it.)

The Heitstumans

It took a 500 mile roadtrip to make it happen, but I've finally scanned the photos from both of my grandparents wedding albums (plus some others I found interesting)!

I'll  share them over time, but I'll start with this one, of my mom's parents in the "getaway car" after their 1951 wedding. Bob and Joyce have been married now for 59 years, and it's her dress I'll be wearing in July.

Don't worry DJ, none of the dress that I'm wearing is visible in this photo!

A couple of details are really striking to me. Grandpa Bob's smile is the same. She's not wearing earrings, and I'm not sure her ears are pierced even now. His tie has a pretty bold pattern. It was raining. They look so damn happy.

Christmas 2009 Part III

Hey there! We’re back from the Washington Parent Pilgrimage that was Christmas, and whooo boy was it fun! 1,775 miles of driving over the course of 10 days, what’s not to love!!!

Ok, perhaps my enthusiasm is unfounded. For the driving part at least. Our last stretch from Clarkston, a stop in Colton, and onto Bozeman included my sister Gretchen, who is spending the next 10 days with us in Bozeman. And while DJ’s ’02 Tundra is totally sufficient for the two of us, it’s totally cramped for three people over an eight hour drive. The kicker is that the roads were fine the whole way and we could have taken my more comfortable Nissan Altima. Oh well.

Because 1,775 miles doesn't seem like a ridiculous amount to drive in 10 days.

It’s tough wanting to split time between three families (mine, DJ’s mom’s, DJ’s dad’s), especially at the holidays. Since both sets live in Washington State, well, it feels like we might as well do both. If DJ’s family lived in Minnesota, we’d go to one or the other, not schlep our stuff around to see everyone. But once you’re to my parents, you’re “only” six hours to DJ’s parents. You might as well go the whole way, right?

The downside is that I don’t feel like we really got to spend enough time with everyone. I could have used two more days around my mom and dad, and I know DJ feels the same way. I’m not sure what we’ll do next year. We’ve kind of agreed to not make any decisions until after El Weddingo.

It’s especially hard for me to consider missing Christmas with my family when my grandparents are still alive and my extended family gets together. And if we hadn’t done the big roadtrip, we wouldn’t have gotten to stay in Harrison, and check out the restaurant that is the location for our wedding reception

The Landing Restaurant, Harrison, Idaho.

And peer through the windows to see that the bathrooms are ripped out and remodeling is, indeed, taking place.

It'll get done, right? RIGHT???

We couldn’t have gotten the last two cinnamon rolls from Harrison Traders, on Main Street in Harrison (YUM!).

Seriously, you WANT a cinnamon roll from HTC.

Or checked out the park in the middle of Harrison that overlooks the marina (somewhere in the fog) and the campground. We’ll host a Welcome BBQ here on the Friday before our wedding.

Foggy.

Or peeked into the One Shots building and giggled at how fun the after-party at One Shots will be.

Grandpa Bob and Grandma Joyce have been coming to One Shots since the mid 1940's.

And had we not gone to Castle Rock, we wouldn’t have gotten to see DJ’s brother get his year-long hair be cut, and donated to Locks of Love.

Locks of Love.

And had a fabulous dinner.

 Paul, Brian, Michelle and Christmas Dinner!

Or tried to take a nice family photo.

Look, a bird!

And had we not gone to Clarkston, we wouldn’t have gotten to open presents with my parents.

Opening gifts.

 Or tried to take another nice family photo.

Sandi, Mike, Gretchen, Courtney, Dusty.

Or sat through Christmas Mass in St. Boniface Church in Uniontown, Washington. Where although I wouldn’t say I’m a practicing Catholic, I do feel part of the community.

St. Boniface in Uniontown.

Especially when I walk out of church and grab my sister, grandmother and girl cousins for a quick Kramer Girl photo.

Hannah, Grandma Jan, Jessica, Whitney, Gretchen, me, Mollie

And then go out to my aunt and uncle’s, and watch my 76 year old grandmother talk to my cousin over Skype.

Joyce, Skypeing with my cousin Taylor.

And spend Christmas Day out at my Grandma Jan’s, with my extended, extensive family.

Kramer family on the farm.

Where I have a ton of girl cousins, who are all growing to be beautiful, accomplished young women.

Gretchen, Jessica, Mollie.

Whom DJ gets to meet.

Christmas Dinner: round FIVE.

And after dinner we all end up playing trivia games.

Who DID win the NCAA national title in 1987?

That sometimes get very heated.

Sports trivia questions. DJ only stayed around through the baseball round.

Because if we didn’t spend nearly 24 hours driving, when else would we get a chance to gather with family and celebrate just being together?

Kramer Cousins: Kyle, Zach, me, Tyler, Ryan, Whitney, Gretchen, Mollie, Jessica, Hannah