Pre-Christmas Delights

Here's some random things from this wonderful breather week between when school is out and Christmas Day.

Any Remote Will Do
We got a little evergreen-in-a-pot this year for our apartment-sized Christmas tree (and plan to plant it in our yard when we get a house here someday (yes, we're tree-rescuing this year instead of tree-cutting (very California of us says Al Fuller))) and when we were putting the string of lights on it, we discovered something fun. The lights have a control box with a button so you can have your choice between seven light modes - slow fade, flashing, twinkle, etc. Well, the lights kept changing modes and I wasn't pressing the button. I saw Stephen playing with the remote control for his big, walking dinosaur and said, "Wait, do that again," and watched the lights. Sure enough, when he pressed the control button on his remote, the tree lights changed. We had great giggling for several minutes aiming the dinosaur remote at the tree and messing with the lights. We later found (when engineer husband came home) that any remote in our living room would have the same light-changing effect. He informs us that any infrared source will work. So, we hopped around some more doing the remote control light changing dance with the TV remote, DVD, airplane, etc. Who knew? Try it at your house.

Winter = Green
Surprise, surprise, it rained three days straight here this week. I had no idea that could actually happen here. You might have heard about the snow in Las Vegas. Same storm. In the midwest, wintertime means everything turns brown and dies. In San Diego, wintertime means rain and that makes everything green. Whole areas of waist-high dead brush now have leaves. Brown mountains look like they're covered with moss. Pretty cool.

Bigger = Belts
I was helping skinny Stephen put a belt on his pants Friday morning getting ready for school. He hasn't had to wear a belt very often, but he keeps getting taller and remaining the same weight, so we've had to resort to one. I've tried avoiding this extra accessory as long as possible. But to get tall-enough pants for his long legs means they're too big in the waist, even if we get the slim size, even with adjustable waistband. He had been kinda quiet, then seriously said, "I'm getting so big (sigh)." Not thinking much I simply replied, "Yup. You are." Then he shook his head and added with consternation, "I'm wearing a belt, last night I got my yellow stripe, I'm just bigger all the time!" I was so tickled, but worked to suppress totally bursting out, looked in his big brown eyes, and just hugged my big boy. With all his belts. (Allen and Stephen both tested for the next level in Taekwondo Thursday night and both passed, earning a yellow stripe on their white belts, the step in-between white and yellow belts.)









Arizona beauty
As mentioned in our previous post, we drove to Phoenix to spend Thanksgiving with my sister. Along the way was some natural beauty in the rock formations that we enjoyed seeing for the first time, live from the highway. Stephen enjoys the cactuses on the walking trail in cousin Phoebe's neighborhood.

Goodbye, Dad.

On Saturday, November 29, 2008, Henry Allen Priest, my dad, passed away. He had struggled with numerous physical issues for the last few years and had been getting weaker. On Nov 23, Dad apparently experienced a massive stroke which left him somewhat incoherent. He was taken to the hospital and admitted. He appeared to be improving and, on Wednesday, the doctors said they were going to move him to rehab. However, on the evening of Thanksgiving, Dad had a high fever and was incoherent again, not being able to recognize people that he knew. The doctors started some IV's of antibiotics to fight off whatever infection was causing the fever. The next day, the fever remained. A spinal tap failed to show what was causing the fever. On Saturday, Nov 29, they thought he might have West Nile virus. When the nurse came in to do the test, my dad's blood pressure began dropping. Mom was there at the time, having spent the entire week at the hospital - day and night. She called my brothers in to the hospital but before anyone could get there, Dad's heart slowed down and then stopped. There was nothing that could be done.

Becky, Stephen and I were in Phoenix celebrating Thanksgiving with Becky's sister, Cathy, and her family. My brother, Thomas, had been keeping me informed about Dad all week long. Saturday morning, I got the call that Dad was gone. That was really hard to hear. I immediately went to the internet and began looking for a flight home. Delta Airlines was very sympathetic and helped me find a great direct flight from Phoenix to Little Rock on Northwest Airlines. Within an hour, I was on a plane heading home.

I wanted to be there so bad. I wanted to be there for mom but I also wished I could see my dad alive one last time. I had not gone home earlier because it appeared that Dad was improving and would be going into rehab. The sudden onset of fever was unexpected. I guess, perhaps, it is better that I can remember Dad as he was the last time I saw him - at the lake this past summer or, the previous year, riding in the boat and tubing with his grand kids.

I hold a lot of great memories of my dad. One memory that I really love is of Dad in his younger years, down on the floor wrestling with the three of us boys. We'd climb all over him trying to overpower him, which of course we could not. He had some sort of immunity to even our tickling attacks. That was a long time ago.

I also remember our many summer vacations at the lake. Dad once owned a ski boat that we'd ride around the lake at high speed (30 MPH?). I remember seeing my dad and my brother, Thomas, skiing behind that boat. I remember sitting around the camper at the end of the day, eating burgers Mom had cooked on the gas grill. I think, perhaps, it was at the lake on those dark summer nights that I really began to love looking at the stars.

I remember one time when the delivery men for my dad's company went on strike. Dad worked selling building materials such as doors and windows. Dad would work with the contractors and write up the orders for what they needed. Then, the delivery trucks would take the goods to the work site. With the delivery drivers on strike, the goods did not get delivered. Since dad did not get paid until the stuff was delivered and paid for, dad was not getting much pay. As I remember it, Dad went to Memphis, got a truck and delivered the stuff himself. I have a vivid memory of seeing that truck in front of the house and seeing my dad climbing down from the cab. I was very proud of him.

I remember my dad as Chief of the Reserve Police force from 1969 to 1975 - age 5 to 11 for me. Dad would go out every couple of weeks and ride with some of the regular police officers and, occasionally, the reserve police and my dad, would be called in when there was a threat of tornadoes or other bad weather. While the rest of us were safe in our storm cellar in the back yard, Dad would be out driving around watching for storms and helping people whose homes were damaged by storms. One time, Dad was called out to search a lake to find a missing boy. Dad was the one who found him and I imagine that was a little hard on him. I remember holding my dad's gold police badge which read "Police Chief" on it and thinking, "My dad's the chief of the policemen." I was so proud of him.

I remember the many sacrifices my dad made for us. Like when he bought me my clarinet. I knew that it was a lot of money and that it would be a struggle for my dad to do. However, I also knew that my dad was proud of me and my musical abilities and wanted to do whatever he could do to help me. Somehow, he came up with the money. Then, there was college. I was the first one in my immediate family to attend a four year college. I had always done well in school and I wanted to be able to go to a high quality engineering school. Again, it was a big sacrifice for Dad to be able to pay for college, but with help from my brother Marshall, and with a fair amount of scholarships and student aid, I was able to go to one of the top 25 engineering schools in the country and got a very high quality of education. I know how proud my mom and dad were on the day they came to St Louis to see me graduate with my B.S.E.E. and then, two years later, to see me graduate again with my M.S.E.E. It was a real sacrifice for Dad and I'm incredibly grateful.

A lot of what's in me comes from my dad. Dad was an engineer of sorts. Although he was a salesman by profession, there was engineering inside of him. He knew how to build things, fix things, make things work... Dad loved woodworking and building things from wood. After dad retired from his job, he began building custom fireplace mantels for some of the builders he had worked for. I think dad retired from that business 3 times - he kept getting called back to the work by builders who loved what he did.

I could go on and on, but I will spare you all that. Dad was a great man who loved his family a lot. Dad had 6 kids, Rhonda, Marshall, Ann, Thomas, Charles, and me, Allen. He had 5 grandchildren and 2 great grandchildren. He was married to my mom for 53 years. He died at the age of 77. He is, and will be, greatly missed.

For Dad's funeral, my brother and I put together a video slide show of photos of my dad. I've included it below.

Allen

In memory of my dad...