Grandma and Grandpa's House: Scandesota

It was shocking, being immersed into a different culture. We always assumed that all of the states were similar. We were wrong. There were vast differences between the people of Minnesota and Utah. It was like we were in Scandinavia when we talked to locals. Phrases like, 'dontcha know' and 'you betcha' were riddled with Swedish accents. It was like we were in The Farmer's Daughter and our world was surrounded by clones of Loretta Young. It was like we were in a spa, talking with a muscly masseuse with long, blonde braids.

When we first arrived, Grandma took us to a bakery. She was excited to have us try some fresh treats. At the end, the cashier asked what kind of a 'baig' we wanted; did we want a plastic 'baig' or a paper 'baig'? While we started walking to the car, Sarah asked, "Grandma, what's a baig?". Grandma burst out laughing, scaring all of us. She explained that it was an accent, that the cashier asked what kind of a bag we wanted. We were confused. Why didn't they just say bag like the rest of us?

"I pledge allegiance to the FLAG of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." I used to shout the word, flag, so that everyone could hear it. I didn't like that they said 'flaig' and refused to say it with them. I informed my friends that they were saying their words wrong, the ones that ended with 'a' and 'g'. I tried to teach them to say it correctly, but it was surprisingly hard for them. They couldn't say it the way that I did; they only accomplished saying it in a posh manner, 'baug'. Some of them even held their heads higher as they attempted to say it the way that I did. One friend really thought about it and asked, "Well, what do you call a bagel? Do you call it, boggle?"

In Utah, I was surrounded by Mormon families. I didn't realize until later that it created extreme pressure for some of my friends, everyone being LDS. I remember one of the girls in my class saying that she was Mormon, even though she wasn't. She said that she just wanted to fit in, because everyone else was Mormon. One of my classmates said that he couldn't play with someone because they weren't Mormon. This is by no means what the religion teaches; it's the religious culture that can be scary. I had never heard of an Atheist before, until one kid in my class refused to say The Pledge of Allegiance. He explained that he was an Atheist, that he didn't believe there is a God, and that he doesn't think it's right for him to say it when he doesn't believe it. I told Grandma about my Atheist friend and was surprised when she simply nodded. Grandma told me about her friends and explained that not only was it doable, to have friends from different religions, but that it was good for me.

I met a lot of her friends. She had so many that came from different backgrounds and religions. One thing I learned from watching Grandma and her friends was that they loved to learn. She wanted to know everything! She wanted to learn about different religions and lifestyles. She had mountains of cookbooks in her study with recipes she experimented with. She consumed books on culture and art and romance. She wanted to see the world, taste it. She thirsted. She was brilliant. She took us on her adventures. She took us to museums and old book stores. She bought us bags of books to read. She let us wander to pick what we wanted to read. She took us to the library and left us to our own devices as she sat nearby. She let us dream. She took us to gardens, flower gardens. She took us to rivers and had us wade in them. She took us to new and different restaurants, ones where you had no idea what you were ordering or eating. She took us to the farmer's market often; we walked by every stand and asked people what they were selling and how they made it. She took us to farms. She took us driving, showing us landscapes and architecture. She took us to concerts. She would hastily apply her lipstick, rubbing a little on her finger to put blush on her cheeks. She would rustle through the rows to her seat, her over-sized, tattered coat trailing behind her. She was dedicated. She wanted us to learn. She wanted us to thirst.

I used to ask Grandpa to play for me. We would take turns playing. I loved it when he would come and sit near me while I played. He would often fall asleep while I played through Grandma's music. We didn't have to say anything to each other. I would start to play and soon enough, he would make his way to the music area and sit down. When we moved to the other house, he would tell me that he missed my playing. He said that I could come over whenever I wanted and play on their piano. It was nice to be missed. He plays the clarinet so beautifully. We used to sit around him and listen to him play. It was magical. The best part of him playing was that it felt like he somehow left us, that when he played, he had an experience. You could close your eyes and listen to him for hours. Even though I was taking music classes at school, he gave me clarinet lessons on the side. He always told me that I needed to work on tightening my mouth, that he had to work on it a lot when he first started playing. The tighter the mouth, the better the sound. One time, my teacher complimented me on my playing and asked if I had learned from anyone. I explained that my grandpa works at the university and that he gave me some pointers. I later found out that my teacher was one of Grandpa's students when he first started working at the college.

Grandpa wanted to take us to the park. We piled up in the car and went on our way. We were headed for 'the hide-and-seek park'. This was where Mom and her siblings used to play. They played hide-and-seek here, hence the name. Grandpa said that we had one stop on the way and pulled in front of a doughnut shop. Yes! I love doughnuts!! I wasn't prepared to have that love tested. Grandpa took us in and we bought a dozen of them. We got six exciting ones. Maple, jelly-filled, sprinkled, cream-filled. There were six regular, glazed ones. It was an exciting time; our mouths started to water. We sat at a table in the park and Grandpa informed us that we weren't allowed to leave the park until we finished the whole box. We were stunned, but still on an excitement high. I thought it would be easy. I downed my first three easily. But, the fourth doughnut was difficult. The stickiness in my mouth wasn't pleasant anymore. I started to get thirsty. The fifth doughnut was even worse. I started to gag. Sarah and Kristi had admitted defeat, but I wanted to keep going. Holding my stomach, I brought the sixth to my mouth. It was the second to last doughnut. I started to chant in my head, like I was about to cross some finish line. But, I couldn't do it. I felt like throwing up and I knew that this sixth doughnut would tip me over the edge. Grandpa smiled and grabbed the last two doughnuts and ate them. We didn't play in the park. We wanted to go home.

I think Mom was scared to leave us with Grandma and Grandpa. She had a hard time growing up with them and she left the house as soon as she could. She told us that Grandpa liked things to be quiet. She told us that sometimes, he gets impatient and when he's angry, he yells. She wanted us prepared. She figured that, though he was older, he would still be the intense father she grew up with. Thankfully, he wasn't. He still liked for things to be quiet; so, we stayed out of certain areas in the house. And, I can remember only two instances that Grandpa really yelled at us. One time was a misunderstanding; he thought Sarah was disobeying him when she was actually obeying what Grandma told her to do. He later apologized to Sarah for his yelling. The other time was when I was watching TV instead of helping Grandma in the kitchen. He was gentle with us. He was kind and patient. Grandpa drove us everywhere. He, like Grandma, wanted us to experience everything. I remember dreading some of our meals, because he brought home creepy-looking meat and smelly cheese. He tried to get us to eat blood sausage one night. I couldn't do it. He was infamous for his treats. He loved making pound cake and would often make two, one for our house and one for him. He loved going to the bakery and would often let me pick what we'd bring home. He asked me about school and friends and music. We talked every day. He was actually interested in my life and who I was and wanted to be. It was different, having a man accept who I am. The men in my life always wanted more of me, more that I couldn't and wouldn't give. It was nice to have someone be there for me; Grandpa's stability helped me survive. I knew I could count on him. I knew that he was on my side. He didn't make me choose between Dad and Mom; he wanted me to choose my own path. I knew that he loved me and that it was unconditional, and that was a first. His love didn't depend on if I did what he wanted me to. His love was real. I wish my mom had grown up with him like that.

One of my favorite memories of living by Grandma and Grandpa was that after we moved into the house next door, he would shovel the snow every day after it snowed which was usually every day of the week. He shoveled a pathway from their house to ours. He even shoveled through neighboring yards, making a safe and clean path for us to walk down the block to our bus stop. I don't think he really asked them if he could shovel through their yard; he just stayed close to the edge of it and created the path for us. He would sometimes drive us if it was really cold, keeping us warm in his car until the bus came. It was reassuring, waking up and seeing him outside shoveling for us. For a while, he couldn't find his regular hat; so, he'd wear this bright pink fisherman hat while shoveling. He was a dedicated man shoveling in a neon hat.

Always

I woke up early. I had showered before I went to bed so that my hair would be dry today. I slowly get out of the bed that I am sharing with my sister and birth-mother, Sa, and walk out of the room. I brush my teeth and walk out the door and into the car in my pajamas. TJ drives me to the other rental house.

I open the door and it is windy. The house is right on the beach and I can see the ocean as I walk up the front steps. I open the door and everyone is awake. They are eating breakfast, showering, talking, doing hair and make-up. I smile and find a place to sit. I am here because I am going to get my hair and make-up done professionally! I am so excited, because this is a first that I get the combo. I am also excited, because it's my wedding day.

My Aunt Mapuana is the photographer for our special day. Once I heard that she was going to take pictures as a wedding present to us, I looked through her photos on her facebook page and fell in love. She is talented. She arrives around 8:00 AM along with her make-up assistant, Kai.

I sit at the table. The wall to my right is all glass so that you can see the ocean at all times. The kitchen is to my left, my sisters sitting at the counter eating cereal. Randy comes and sits next to me and we talk while he eats his breakfast. He's nervous about his speech. I tell him that he can read it to me later.

Kai and Aunty start working on my hair. They're straightening it. They remember halfway through that they need to take a before picture. I look seriously into her camera, half of my hair straightened and the other half a frizzy ball of fluff hanging over it.

"You can smile."
"Oh! Sorry, I didn't know if this was supposed to be artistic or not."

We laugh.

It takes them awhile to straighten the thick hair and then they are finally done. Kai wraps it in curlers. Aunty walks around, taking pictures of me while Kai does my makeup. She walks outside and takes pictures of the property and of my sisters. There is so much noise and movement. 12 people are staying in the house and now they are all trying to get ready at the same time.

My sisters and nieces are all done getting ready and they start to pose for pictures. I watch them and laugh with them as they make different faces. Their dresses are beautiful. I was nervous that the colors wouldn't go together. Many sisters and nieces means many different definitions of modesty and what looks best; so, I decided to let them pick out their own dresses and hoped that they would match. They did. The dresses were all different shades, but close shades, of the turquoise that I wanted. The flower girls are wearing bright pink and white and the bridesmaids are in turquoise/mint and white. All are wearing short dresses except for Sarah, my Maid of Honor. She has a long, flowy dress. It looks Grecian. They're breathtaking. I'm so happy that all of my family can be here for this special day. I briefly think about Jovan, TJ's cousin. She would have been in my wedding line. TJ and I thought about possibly making remarks in our speech about missing those who cannot be with us. But, he decided against it. It would be too hard for him to talk about her. Her passing was a devastation to the family and especially to TJ as she was his best friend and sister (technically cousin, but in his culture, they are brother and sister). Prior to this experience, I had only experienced my elderly family members passing away. Her death was a shot of reality, a strong dose that though it's cliche to say, life is short. Life is so incredibly short. And, life is hell. The day she died is the saddest day that TJ and I have ever experienced. I remember it well.

I woke up to TJ rubbing my shoulder. He was supposed to be at work, but he was in bed next to me, crying. Sobbing. I asked him what was wrong and he could barely speak.

"Jovan is dead."

I was overcome with shock. How could she be dead? He just spoke to her the other day. They had joked on the phone. All I could do was hold him and cry with him. I had never seen him so sad. I had never seen him cry this hard before. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move as he held me tightly to him. We talked to his grandmother on the phone and were assigned to pick Aleena up from school before we headed over to her house. I waited in the car as he went in Aleena's school to get her. She walked beside him and I watched as he told her. She looked at him and her face paled. She started to cry and they both cried as they walked to the car.

As we walked in the house, we were met by his mother and grandmother. His grandmother's cry is the saddest cry I have ever heard. It is heartbreaking. She yelled as she cried in his arms and I stood aside as I watched a family's pain as they embraced each other. 

The girls laugh and I think about Jovan laughing with them.

They start to put flowers in their hair and my family members start to leave. They have to pick up things for the wedding and set up things as well. The only ones left in the house are: Sa, Baby Ave, Aunty Tutasi, Aunty Mapu, Kai, and myself. It gets really quiet as Kai finishes my makeup. She is almost done and I keep thinking about my lashes. She has yet to put any mascara on them and I get nervous, because I definitely don't want to be eyelash-less LOL! She says that she is almost done and pulls out fake eye-lashes and leans forward to put them on me. I relax.

I change into my wedding dress in the bathroom. I stare at myself in the mirror. My hair is in soft curls, framing my face. My makeup is darker than usual, but fabulous. I love the eyelashes! My dress is perfect. There is a sequin belt that goes across the front, right under my chest. Underneath the sequins, the dress puffs out around me. I feel beautiful. Sa greets me when I come out and helps zip me up. I'm glad that she's here for this part. It just feels right to have her here, zipping me up, helping me with the final touches. The orchids that I had planned on putting in my hair were gone; so, she let me wear one of her combs. It has real flowers on it, beautiful and white. They smelled so delicious! I had never smelt anything so wonderful in my life. We pose for more pictures.

The drive to Temple Beach is short. I walk across the street, barefoot and holding my dress in the air. I walk down the sandy path to the beach. Everyone is there, waiting. Of course, I'm late.

"I'm here!!"

Everything starts to move quickly and I look around. There is a beautiful, simple hoopah at the end of the aisle. White fabric is draped from it and there are large leaves on it as well. TJ is standing there, waiting for me, and he looks so handsome. The men are wearing white shirts with khaki shorts and TJ is wearing khaki slacks. The florist walks to me and hands me my bouquet. I can tell that she is nervous as she says that she hopes I like the flowers. My bouquet is breathtaking. I stare at it and tell her that the flowers look amazing. It is a large, cascading bouquet with bright pink and white orchids. There are little bits of fern and green leaves mixed in. It looks better than I had imagined.

Music starts to play and I can hear a ukulele in the background. Eve and Roo start dropping purple orchids as they walk down the orchid-lined aisle. Eve looks very serious, wanting to do her job perfectly as she carefully places the flowers on the ground. Roo has a hard time balancing on the sand and starts to wobble off to the side of the aisle. Sarah is the first bridesmaid to walk down the aisle. She holds Roo's hand as they walk down the aisle together. The rest of the girls start to walk and my mothers stand next to me. Sa is on my right and Mom is on my left. This is perfect. I look around at everyone as we walk. I feel so much love and I look at TJ. He is smiling.

We hold hands and I ask if he has his ring. His eyes widen and he searches his pockets. Not only does he not have his ring, but he has no idea where it is. I worriedly turn to Uncle Aaron and he calmly tells me that we won't do a ring ceremony. Thank goodness! Uncle Aaron starts to talk...

 Everything about this day feels right. Our families are here together to celebrate this new life with us.

One More Day

I like to read depressing things. I like to listen to depressing music. I like to watch depressing movies. I have always liked to do this. I like to feel. So, while I was listening to One More Day by Vast (great song!), when I came across an article that was about a note someone found in an airport. The note was titled, "Read Me". He opened it and read:

I  recently left an emotionally abusive relationship. After months of insults I won't repeat, false accusations, lies, delusions, broken mirrors, nightly battles…. I left. I know that I was being poisoned by each day that I stayed. So with a heavy heart, I left my lover of three years, knowing that I had already put it off too long. At first he begged, then he cursed, but eventually he packed his bags and faded out of my life like a bad dream. For the first few weeks, my body seemed to reject this. For three years I had seen the world through him - colored glasses. I didn’t know who I was without him. Despite the kindness of friends and even strangers. I could not help feeling utterly alone. But it was this sense of aloneness that set me free. Somewhere along the way, I let go. I released all of the painful memories, the names he had called me, the shards of him buried deep in my brain. I stopped believing the things he had made me think about myself. I began to see how extraordinary, breathtakingly beautiful life is. I meditated, drank too much coffee, talked to strangers, laughed at nothing. I wrote poetry and stopped to smell and photograph every flower. Once I discovered that my happiness depends only on myself, nothing could hurt me anymore. I have found and continue to find peace. Each day I am closer to it than I was yesterday. I am a work in progress but I am full to the brim with gratitude and joy. And so, since I have opened a new chapter in my life, I want to peacefully part with the contents of the last chapter. The end of my relationship was the catalyst for a wealth of positive changes in my life. It was a symbol, most importantly, it was an act of self-love. It was a realization that I deserved to be happy and I could choose to be. And so, in an effort to leave behind the things that do not help me grow, I am letting go of a relic from the painful past. I wore this necklace-a gift from him-every day for over tow years. To me, letting it go is a joyous declaration that I am moving forward with strength and grace and deep, lasting peace. Please accept this gift as a reminder that we all deserve happiness. Whoever you are, and whatever pain you have faced, I hope you find peace.
Namaste,
Jamie

My Film

I took a lot of videos while in Hawaii, because I wanted to always be able to look back at those precious days. After the first day of filming on my cell phone, I decided that it would be pretty cool if I put them together in a long video. I want to do a documentary.

As we know, I'm a dreamer. So, this seemed like one of those projects that I usually come up with only to throw it away right after beginning. But, I have stuck with this. I really want to finish.

I've started to expand. I have the videos that I took in Hawaii. I've added photos from my childhood up to adulthood, up to the most recent ones I have taken. I started recording myself. I talk about all different aspects of my life. I sent emails to my families with questions and prompts. They are going to take videos of themselves and I want to use excerpts of them in my film. I can't wait! It's been one of the hardest projects, but the most rewarding. I have laughed while looking back at my childhood and I have cried. It's so amazing to experience this!

Pre-Wedding Thoughts Run Wild

It's been awhile since I've posted!
Excerpts from my journal - 4/10/2014.

I have so many thoughts. 

I am overwhelmed. In a good way. I feel like I could just write paragraphs of run-on sentences and still have more to say. I am going to Hawaii. I am finally going to be there! I can't wait. 

I am a dreamer. I used to daydream all the time. Still do. I like imagining where I'll be in 10 yrs, 20, 30...I like to imagine my luxurious vacations in Ireland, New Zealand, Germany, Greece...I like to picture my future children, what features of mine they'll have, their personalities...I like to imagine scenarios of romance. I'm a romantic. I think dreamers are usually romantics, or is it the other way around? There are a few specific moments that I have always dreamed of. I've always dreamed of going back to Hawaii, spending more time with my birth-family, my amazing wedding, and I get all of these things in one beautiful trip. 

I am getting married in Hawaii and all of my family will be there. 

I am overwhelmed.

I have been planning my dream wedding for about 2 yrs now. I've gone from very simple, candlelight receptions to rustic for fall to a Christmas, winter wedding to bright colors for spring. And, all of my plans have fallen through until now. And the best part is that for my actual wedding, I've had to do so little planning in comparison to hours upon days of planning for receptions that never happened. People just call me and ask what I want and I tell them. In what world does this ever happen?! The planning process itself has been better than anything I could ever have dreamed of. And you know, I dream. 

I have learned so much from my Nana, my birth-mother, and my mom in these last few weeks. I have learned about the proper etiquette, culture, and religion.

Lesson 1: Call everyone "Aunty" or "Uncle". It is a form of respect.

Lesson 2: Flowers are important - which is nice because I love flowers. Money put into flowers is money well spent.

Lesson 3: Make sure that everyone knows that you are grateful and continue to remind them to avoid hurting people's feelings.

Lesson 4: Constantly repeat Lesson 3, even if you feel like you have repeated it enough times.

I am overwhelmed.

I cannot wait to be in Hawaii with my families. I get to have my past, present and future all there in unity and I cannot wait...

Going to pack...

Winter Wedding Ideas

Jeremiah and Stephannie's wedding

I was so happy to be able to take photos at Jeremiah and Stephannie's wedding!

Esther and Keyvan's Wedding

My sister's wedding! It was an amazing event! There were two receptions held, one in California and the other in Utah. Both were so fun. The California reception was held right on the beach. We also got to know some Iranian traditions while we were there. This was over 4 years ago. My, how time flies!