Life Among the Aspens with the Hartleys

Every Christmas morning our family enjoys a dish called Scrapple. It’s a Pennsylvania Dutch treat made with pork sausage and corn meal, sliced and fried, then topped with real butter. Even though Grandpa Tom hasn’t been able to make it for us the last few years, we still savor our version with a smile, thinking of the tradition he started and we continue.
His 81st birthday is December 28 but the doctors at Mercy tell us he only has a few days left of his life. He’ll be celebrating with my parents in a place free from cancer, kidney disease, dialysis and pain. Today marks his 15th day at Mercy Hospital. Fluid on his lungs and low blood pressure brought him here. It turns out the fluid was filled with cancer cells. He says he is ready because he knows exactly where he’s going and already knows everybody else who will be there.
The nurses here have fallen head over heels for him. He’s so sweet with such manners and thanks them so kindly and sincerely for every little thing they do to provide comfort. When his doctor came by this morning we talked with her about how he has been on dialysis for 16 years. Tim asked her if she ever heard him complain about it. She said absolutely not. He cherished each day and was just thankful to have time with his bride of 58 years and his three children and six grandchildren. Oh – and his fabulously amazing daughters-in-law and son-in-law.
After an incredibly difficult day Thursday making some final decisions, my husband arrived home late at night and we sat together and talked for a long time. Tears rolled down my cheeks as he spoke of the courage his father showed and how proud he was of him. How often do you hear a son talk about being so proud of his father? And Tim has had the opportunity to tell him that and to thank him for all the things he taught him throughout his life.
Now as I walk this road for the first time as a daughter-in-law, I am so proud of my husband and his entire family for the way they are handling this with such grace and love. I’ve been blessed with in-laws who have always treated me like their own child and given so much love and support to their grandchildren. Tyler and Sarah share qualities of their grandfather. I love it when I see it in them as young adults.
During this Christmas season spend time with your family and friends celebrating God’s goodness. In this third week of Advent we light the candle of joy to honor Thomas Ross Hartley for the joy and love he brought to our lives. Well done!

People give up things for Lent. This year I decided not to give anything up but rather to add some things. I’m spending dedicated time each day in prayer, reading a devotional daily with my husband, and listening intently to and for God in my every day life.
Things have been pretty tough lately with my mother-in-law and father-in-law. Watching my own parents age, moving through transitions with them, and walking beside them as they surrendered their independence was not easy. We now face some of these same experiences with my in-laws. It creates great stress for everyone, especially Tim. He wants to do the right things, say the right things and make the best decisions for his parents. He supported me so lovingly with my mom and dad, and I am doing what I can to help him. Sometimes it seems like there is nothing you can say or do, except pray. So I’ve been praying. And Sunday the answer to prayer came in a sermon at church titled Honoring Your Mother and Father. It was exactly what we needed to hear. We don’t honor out of obligation. We honor out of love.
When we were enjoying lunch after the worship service, Tim said “Could that service have been any more perfect for me right now?” Thanks be to God.
And today God revealed something to me I wasn’t expecting. One of my students walked out of the classroom with me and asked if she could ask me a personal question. You know I’m the “what you see is what you get girl” so I said yes, of course. She asked if she had heard correctly one day during class that I mentioned my father dying of pancreatic cancer? I told her yes. She went on to ask about the details including how old I was at the time and if his life lasted very long after the diagnosis. She then told me her mom died of the same cancer just this past November at the age of 44. We then talked about this horrible cancer that claimed the lives of our parents. We talked about faith helping us through it and how we’re both fearful of the family history.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her and our conversation this morning. I can’t help but think this new relationship might be the entire reason I started teaching. God is so good. He knows when we need others and when they need us. He knows the right messages to deliver at the right time. He knows everything about us.
During this Lent season, let’s savor these moments in life and give praise for relationships and community.

As I mourn the loss of a role model, mentor and kind friend, I celebrate the years he lived and the influence he had on my life and so many others.
Frank Coulter was a teacher at heart. Even though he left the classroom early in his career to become an administrator, he was always looking for the lessons in life and sharing them. And now I have the opportunity to share them with you. Here are a few of my Frank Life Lessons:
1) Hire the very best employee from the applicant pool even if they only work with you for a short time. He would remind me of this every time I was hiring a new employee. He said don’t settle for less than the best even if they just work for you a year or two. You would rather have the best for a short time than be stuck with mediocre forever.
2) You had your chance to be Homecoming Queen when you were in high school. Whenever I had a tough decision to make, he would remind me of this and tell me it takes courage to be the best. He understood that being liked was important to me but he also had faith in me to do what was right even when it was difficult.
3) Pick up the trash when no one else does. Frank used to ask me why I thought other employees would walk right past trash in the hallway or parking lots and not pick it up. Why don’t they care? And the answer was that most people didn’t care as much as he did. He never forgot that tax payer dollars built Moore Norman and that we all had a responsibility to keep it at its best.
4) It’s just as important how you leave a job as how you do it while you’re working there. Frank was frustrated after an employee had completed a written exit interview with some negative comments. He said if they had constructive criticisms to share or ideas for making something better why didn’t they share it while they were working here. He always had an open door and welcoming communication style where he listened to everyone.
5) It doesn’t matter who gets the credit as long as the work gets done. There was so much he did in this community and in this state that he probably never got credit for but he didn’t care. It’s what made him such a great leader. He was the father of many strong partnerships because he was willing to be part of the constellation and not be the shining star.
I could write a book based on the lessons I learned from Frank. For now, I’ll close the way he closed every conversation we had – with a few words of kindness and “tell Tim and the kids hello from me.”
Thank you kind friend for a lifetime of great memories.

Although there is much to celebrate about my mom’s beautiful life, her passing is difficult to grasp. One of my favorite nonprofit development directors sent a sympathy card and included this writing from 1933. My mom was nine years old when it was written, yet these words honor her. I just have to share….

“Is this the long way?” asked the young mother as she set her foot on the path of life. And the Guide said:
“Yes, and the way is hard, and you will be old before you reach the end of it. But the end will be better than the beginning.”

The young mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. So she played with her children, she fed them and bathed them, taught them how to tie their shoes and ride a bike, and reminded them to feed the dog and do their homework and brush their teeth. The sun shone on them and the young mother cried,

“Nothing will ever be lovelier than this.”

Then the nights came, and the storms, and the path was sometimes dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her arms. The children said,

“Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come.”

And the morning came, and there was a hill ahead, and the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary. But at all times she said to the children,

“A little patience and we are there.”

So the children climbed and as they climbed they learned to weather the storms. And with this, she gave them strength to face the world. Year after year she showed them compassion, understanding, hope, but most of all unconditional love. And when they reached the top they said,

“Mother, we could not have done it without you.”

The days went on, and the weeks and the months and the years. The mother grew old and she became little and bent. But her children were tall and strong, and walked with courage. And the mother, when she lay down at night, looked up at the stars and said:

“This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned so much and are now passing these traits on to their children.”

And when the way became rough for her, they lifted her, and gave her strength, just as she had given them hers. One day they came to a hill, and beyond the hill they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide. And Mother said,

“I have reached the end of my journey. And now I know the end is better than the beginning, for my children can walk with dignity and pride, with their heads held high, and so can their children after them.” And the children said,

“You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates.”

And they stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the gates closed after her. And they said,

“We cannot see her, but she is with us still.” A mother is more than a memory. She is a living presence. Your Mother is always with you. She’s the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street, she’s the smell of certain foods you remember, flowers you pick and perfume that she wore, she’s the cool hand on your brow when you’re not feeling well, she’s your breath in the air on a cold winters day.

She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep, the colors of a rainbow, she is your birthday morning. Your Mother lives inside your laughter. And she’s crystallized in every tear drop.

A mother shows through in every emotion – happiness, sadness, fear, jealousy, love, hate, anger, helplessness, excitement, joy, sorrow – and all the while hoping and praying you will only know the good feelings in life.

She’s the place you came from, your first home, and she’s the map you follow with every step you take. She’s your first love, your first friend, even your first enemy, but nothing on earth can separate you.

Not time, not space – not even death!

She’s always been tough and never gives up easily. Verna Dyne Cheney Busch is my mom and she is a survivor – breast cancer, depression, ulcers, heart attack, open heart surgery, dementia and congestive heart failure. She also watched two of her babies die premature deaths and was at home with her parents when the news of her brother’s death in World War II was delivered. She was at Pappy’s side when his battle with pancreatic cancer came to a brave end four years ago.

She has always been our family rock.

And now, as she approaches her 88th birthday at the end of this month, she’s winding down. Her body is growing weary and not able to keep going. We don’t know how much longer she’ll be with us, but until that time comes according to God’s will, we will surround her with those she loves the most and make certain we keep our word to Pappy – we will take care of her like he would want. Nothing less will do for the mom who has never given up on any of us and never run out of unconditional love.

I love you mom and I don’t want you to suffer. I want you to have the peace that passes all understanding.

I hear Helen Reddy in my head singing I am woman, hear me roar.

Yes, I’ve hit a milestone. I celebrated my 50th birthday on October 21st of this year. I am a birthday purist so the event had to be marked on the actual date and by something spectacular – and Yosemite is about as spectacular as it gets. Pair that with a visit to Sonoma wine country and you have a great adventure!

Here are some photos!

El Capitan!

On my last day here in Doha, my sister-in-law is hosting a rather large and extravagant dinner party. She started cooking yesterday and hasn’t stopped. I will be their last “out-of-town” guest before they move to Tulsa this summer so I guess you could say I’m cause for celebration – or at least my visit is. It promises to be a really fun evening with new friends from different countries, as well as a few Texans, or is that technically another country? Two of Dennis and Christy’s friends who are Chinese and who came here around the same time as them will be bringing Mapo Tofu. I keep asking Dennis to describe it but all he can say is that it is one of his favorite things to eat and he has no idea what’s in it or how it’s made other than with its namesake tofu. Lots of people are bringing all different kinds of food so what a perfect way to end this perfect trip.

Today we walked around something called the Corniche – the Oklahoma equivalent would be the Bricktown Canal or the Tulsa Riverwalk. But please let me point out a few differences:

• There is a sea with amazing aqua Technicolor water as opposed to a river. It was so cool to see Jet Skis (quintessential U.S.) and the Dhows (quintessential Qatar).
• The centerpiece of the Corniche is the Katara Cultural Center where we saw a photographic exhibit called DOHAland. The construction and architecture once again is over the top like everything else here. The impressive and huge amphitheater was built almost 100 percent of marble.
• The weather was what I like to call a “San Diego Day” meaning a perfect day in the mid 70s. However the rest of my time here, it was windy. Yes, I am an Okie saying that, because the wind didn’t stop for days…until today. Sand hurts when it hits you in the face. The positive side of that is it hasn’t been warm at all which is nice since I’m in a desert.
• The restaurants in this area are high-end – an average entree will cost you $290 ryals. My lunch, however came from a darling little round building and only cost $13 ryals. I had a veggie club sandwich and other than a few tomatoes, I have no idea what was actually on it but it tasted yummy.

Our other adventure today was a visit to Souk Waqif, which is an open air market. We had dinner my first night here at a Moroccan restaurant so we went back today because I had some market shopping needs. There are probably 200+ shops where you can buy everything from colored chicks (like at Atwoods) to kitchen pots (like International Pantry). My favorite sight is tailors sewing abayas and the beautiful, brightly colored dresses the Arab women wear under them. Cash only and you can barter on prices. Well, Christy can barter on prices but Dennis and I are rather wimpy at this task.

Time for me to go and help Christy get some last-minute things ready for tonight. She and my brother have been great hosts, as they always are. I am so blessed to have had this opportunity and so ready for them to be in Tulsa so we can spend more time together. Their home close to the Riverwalk will be filled with lots of treasures from the Middle East. Every time I visit, I will recall the wonderful adventure that would not have been possible if they hadn’t taken a risk almost eight years ago. I love you guys.

It has been a hoot. It has made me appreciate certain things about Norman and the U.S. more and made me aware of a vastly different yet similar world. I can’t wait to get home and share my stories, photos and treasures with my family and friends. If you ever get the chance to do something like this, say yes. It will change your life.

A few closing observations – drivers honk all the time; there isn’t much music except when all the mosques starting calling Muslims to prayer services and there are a gazillion mosques; there are no sidewalks or crosswalks; Arabs are caffeine addicts, much worse than Americans; there aren’t many cigarette smokers but the men all sit around, especially at night, and smoke shisha pipes; the palaces being built make Ashton Grove and Gaillardia look like slums; and no one smiles or says hi as you’re walking down the street.

Today when I was enjoying my lunch on a park bench with my brother a little boy about 18 months of age walked up and just started smiling and talking to us. It’s too bad we grow up and lose our childlike innocence.

Shalom!

So you’ve probably seen or at least heard of the Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman movie called Bucket List. I don’t officially have a bucket list however every time I do something out of the ordinary I make a reference like “well I get to check that off my bucket list.” Two things get checked off as of today – riding a quad bike across the sand dunes in the Arabian desert and riding a camel. Wow – just being able to write that makes me a little choked up. Thanks Dennis and Christy for making this adventure of a lifetime possible.

I’ll start with the quad bikes. It’s a good thing my brother has done this before and knew the lay of the land. The one thing he warned me about was being careful about driving to the top of a large dune without knowing how steep the other side was. What’s about the first thing I did – ride to the top of a STEEP dune. I tried to back up but couldn’t so then I thought I could just take it really easy and traverse sideways down this incredibly steep dune. The bike almost tipped over on top of me before I got it stuck. Dennis dug it out and the bike just started sliding down the dune, without me on it. So it stopped at the bottom of the dune, Dennis and I trudged through the sand to get to it. Lesson learned. And I’m pretty sure being buried alive in sand would be a horrible way to die. Other than that, it was blast. And the views from the top were incredible of the Arabian Sea. Check out the photos on Facebook.

Now for camels. I certainly understand the important role they play in this desert culture, but they are just weird. And it’s weird to drive along the highway and see camels where cows would be in our country. So I rode a camel – just a short ride because they don’t use saddles in the context I’ve known. They use blankets and they provide little protection from that bone that runs between and along the top of the humps. Camels are taller than horses, a lot taller. Getting on one isn’t that tough. The tough part is when the camel sits down after the ride. If you don’t have a tight handle, you could easily fall forward off the strange animal. I can now say I’ve done it, I’ve ridden a camel, and it’s something I only need to do once. We also drove through the camel souk (shop) on our way back to town today. Just so you know, camels are all different colors from light beige to black. Babies are born with the humps and they’re kind of cute – for camels. Camels are used for utilitarian purposes and the really expensive ones with superior DNA are used at the camel races. I’m just not sure how you tell which camels are meant for racing and which ones are meant for hauling your crap.

After a mellow afternoon, we head out this evening for one of Dennis and Christy’s friends 30th birthday. We’ll be dining at La Spaghetto’s tonight. It’s Italian, in case you couldn’t tell. One thing about Qatar is that they don’t really have their own stuff, other than vast supplies of natural gas and oil. They don’t have a food specialty other than mint lemonade and just about everything you can think of is imported from another country, especially our country. The American influence is everywhere including Burger King and Papa John’s. They refer to barber shops as saloons – I think they mean salon, but what harm does an extra “o” really do?

One of our afternoon activities was a taste test of three different types of bacon – my sister-in-law is preparing a feast tomorrow night and one of the recipes calls for crumbled bacon. So we cooked beef bacon – kind of like jerky – and two types of turkey bacon. The Everyday Butterball brand was the best. They seem to be pretty adept at creating pork-like products but I know my bacon and know matter what you try to do, there’s no substitute for the REAL thing.

It’s hard to believe tomorrow is my final day here. It has been a real hoot!