Life With Boys

Mindy says so anyway. Apparently sleeping on your back with your arms crossed across your chest makes you a vampire.  So why did Mindy know how a I happened to be sleeping Thursday night? Because we found ourselves sharing a room in Mesquite, Nevada – the home of my Dad and his wife Marilyn.

Dad has decided to sell the house in Pine Valley – about an hour-ish north of St. George, Utah.  (And if I’ve messed up the compass directions – don’t tell me, I’m lucky to have any idea what direction my house might be, and I mess that up with great frequency.)

Anyway with Pine Valley going on the market Mindy and I went out to do a final sort of what was left of our childhoods.  No, we did not grow up there, but anything Dad did not want to deal with when he sold the house in Park City went into plastic bins and to storage in Pine Valley. That left boxes a of photos, shells, rocks and the bits that had no other home. Fortunately I had already dealt with a majority of the photos after Mom died when I had all of the negatives I could find scanned (somewhere around 25,000 images – dad is a bit of photo bug.) Thus unless the shots were unique into the recycling they went – which is not easy to do.  Am I the only one who feels weird about dumping my childhood into the circular file? But I did it without crying.

And I still remain a vampire because Mindy and I are are still basic opposites -I’m the dark to her chemically enhanced light. She is the sun baby and the sun just taunts me with freckles and sunburn (in Mindy’s vampire mythology vampires burn to a crisp). But the differences are more than skin deep.

My sister and my dad are loud.  They talk loud, laugh loud and live loud.  If they aren’t making the noise they are turning up the volume on the stereo or the TV, or both. I forget these nuances of personality during our time apart. Dad turns on the TV as soon as he walks into a room and then it stays on as a constant companion.

They both ooze personality, making friends everywhere. Mindy knows the names and hobbies of everyone – even her grocery store bagger – he loves rivers by the way. In contrast I seem nearly silent. It’s because I’m listening and maybe because it can be too much effort to make myself heard about trivial minutia . Not that I can’t or won’t take a stand, I can throw down with the best and meet them toe-to-toe. Then watch out.

So, why is Pine Valley going on the market? The party line is that it is better to sell before a major election (so says the trends in the real estate market). My take on it? Dad is overwhelmed and is looking for something he can control as he watches Marilyn battle cancer.

She received the diagnosis on New Year’s Eve (a historically awful-ish day for my Dad). Since then she has been undergoing chemo.  With the help of my Dad and her family and friends she has been conquering the trials with grace and amazing strength. She has her last chemo treatment next Friday. Then it is a case of hurry up and wait. In June they will see if they will be headed to Salt Lake for 3 weeks for a bone marrow transplant.  It only takes one evil cell to start the whole process again.

She has been amazing through all of it. She looked great (we only had about an hour to visit before she departed for an appointment with yet another medical purpose and our departure to Pine Valley).

The Pine Valley property allows Dad to escape and allow his inner perfectionist to get the better of him. His to do list includes cleaning the inside of the glass on the fireplace and making sure the closet pulls align just so. (And I’m sure he will adjust his laser like focus on their Mesquite house next.) Thus, if you are looking for a mountain retreat that has been meticulously maintained I have the place for you.

So now I am on the way back to St. Louis with a suitcase packed with a Featherweight Singer Sewing Machine, a rock and shell collection and the flotsam and jetsam that I could not bear to recycle or give away. I’ve told Matt he’s going to need to come in and help me out of the airport. He’s not excited. Oh well. He doesn’t know there is more coming in the mail, yet.  It’s a good thing he loves me so much and I am lucky to have him.