We drove, just us two, to the First Church of God for our wedding scheduled at 7 pm with Pastor Todd. When we arrived, I heard Choya jokingly ask if you remembered to bring the llcense. All I remember was you calling out to me across the lawn “I’ll be back in a few minutes”. Somehow, I knew exactly what that meant. You forgot to bring the license. I remembered to bring what I needed to – Kathy’s bouquet and Choya’s boutonniere. You just had to bring one piece of paper. I think you were a bit more nervous that you wanted to admit.
So, our little wedding began promptly at 7 pm 7:30 pm. Close enough.
I remember scouring the cars driving by to see if, just perhaps, my Mom might show up with my younger brothers, Mark & Larry (then 15 and 14) and sisters, Robyn and Lori (then just 5) in tow. I knew that Dad would not attend. He was stubborn and put his foot down that he, nor my Mom and brothers and sisters, would not attend. But somehow, I thought – hoped – that just this once Mom would stand up. No such luck. I knew if my older brother, Jay, would not have been in the Army as an MP, he would have been there. No matter how much we argued and yelled at each other, we always tried to have each other’s back. But, it was what it was. I had you by my side and that was really all that mattered. And I had three of my “ride or die” friends right there for more support. Debi (then) Luekenga and Peggy (then) Fitzhugh and Kathy (then) Johnson That meant the world to me. And still does. That show of friendship and support is never forgotten.
After the ceremony, we made our way to your Mom’s house, where she had a table set up with the cake that your friend you worked with at the bakery, had made as a gift to us. She was a sweetheart and always a “mother figure” for you at work. Later, we began an early close to the festivities and everyone went their own way – your friends to party on and you and I made our way to your sister, Linda’s house, where we knew we could wind down and relax. You were exhausted from working at 5 a.m. and I was almost 20 weeks pregnant, barely showing, but sick as a dog all day long. Linda brought me a throw and I rested my head in your lap and dozed off while you and your sister bantered a bit. In my dream like state I could hear Linda’s giggles, which always meant she was being entertained by you. We made our way home soon after, and settled into sleep, comforted by the fact that we were now married and together forever.
We don’t really have any photos of that day that are not grainy and blurry. That’s what happens when three over served teenage not yet men, were snapping photos with our little Kodak. Didn’t matter because we had almost 45 years after with over 30 albums filled with our lives. Memories that I cherish. I so wish there would have been more years. But we had a helluva time, didn’t we? Ups and downs and we weathered it all together – hand in hand.
So, happy anniversary, honey. I hope you can still feel the love, because I sure can, It is what gets me through each and every day.
This has been (and will continue to be) quite the journey. More about that later.
First, to my sons, Jeffry and Ricky – being right by my side meant the world to me. Interrupting your schedules and your family time without a second thought – all I could think of is how proud your dad must be! I could never repay you. My daughters Kerri & Isabel – what is left of my heart of course belongs to you for your love and support. I couldn’t possibly love you more.
Flowers from my siblings, Mark & Jane, Robyn and Lori & Jim. And from Tucson Metro Soccer League and Isabel & Ricky, Victoria and Alexander – You all made my broken heart smile!
Daily uplifting texts and emails from clients and long time friends, Peggy and Mary and Janet and Larry and Kathy and Karen – so appreciated. Texts and phone calls from dear friend, Pat – kept me going. How could I not mention little texts from Maxwell, Alex, Marluce, Mateo, Chase, Tristan, Victoria and Alexander checking up on Nana. Just getting one of your beautiful photos or sentiments soothed my soul. I could not possibly thank you all!
There will be more writing as I memorialize this unexpected journey. But for now, please accept my humble attempt at “thanks for caring”.
You only got to celebrate 41 years on earth – but I know your souls are together somehow, I feel it.
I loved it when daddy would make me take him shopping for an anniversary gift (or gifts for any holiday really). He only went shopping for Mom. Everyone else was left up to Mom to handle. Always clever, daddy would make his mark unique – a new wallet stuffed with bills in every nook and cranny with the ultimate gift being a motorhome). He would make funny noises (his bird calls were epic), entertaining kids of all ages while the parents looked annoyed. If there was not a tag on an item, he would walk up to an unsuspecting clerk and pelt his query in rapid succession of “cuánto pesos, cuánto pesos, cuánto pesos?” While the clerk was trying to figure out what the hell this man was saying, and before they could respond he would emphatically continue with “tres pesos y no más” and would stare at the clerk while I apologized and explained he was just goofing all the while tugging on his arm in an effort to move the process along. Always an adventure.
Throughout my 36 years of your parenting, I learned a lot. I learned that some things each of you said or did were clearly mistakes – but that was how things were done in “those” days. I learned that at a young age, I could always count on my dance costumes being immaculately sewn and within a week after the recital, I would get to see all of the dancing photos my dad took standing backstage – displayed in a dark living room with the old projector shining on a wall. Hundreds of them each recital.
I learned from being the only girl for 13 years, that I was in charge of Mark and Larry. They were almost twin-like being only 17 months apart in age. I learned how to nurture and make up fairy tales and play games and just how to be with children. I learned that being the kid who took charge, I was allowed to take phone calls and make arrangements for Mom to deliver and pick up the 12 inch black and white televisions for Gdovin’s Tv Rentals. Back then, hospitals were not equipped with televisions so St. Mary’s Hospital was our biggest customer. Or, rather the patients were. (A fun fact: Mom and Dad sold the business later on to Al and Dorothy LaCount – Janet LaCount Tezak’s parents!)
Did you make mistakes? Oh hell yeah. Some big ones that still weigh on my heart. I know it weighed on yours as well when you took the time in your 1991 visit to Tucson to be with us as Bob and I renewed our vows in St Joseph’s Catholic Church, to apologize and I saw the tears in your eyes. But, it seems tears always make room for smiles. And so it did.
You both taught me how to act in Church and how to sit still. We were not given coloring books and toys to keep us occupied on Sundays. We were expected to sit and listen and learn. I learned that Sunday was a time to dress up – not in regular school clothes, but our good clothes. I got to wear my little hats and shoes with just a slightly taller heel than my normal shoes. The boys had cute button up shirts and little clip on ties. I enjoyed seeing you, Mom, in your dark crimson heels and one of your large brimmed hats. Being fancy was one of my favorite things. And when you did it, you did it well.
You both taught me some colorful phrases that I would never repeat here. It wasn’t because of the minor swear words – but more the construction of the phrases and how they were not so much as inappropriate, but more so, actually impossible! Yes, you both are responsible for my swearing. Never the unspeakable words people use today, but just the regular old cuss words. I remember I began swearing around age 10. And when I peppered my ramblings about my day with damn and hell and such, Daddy always looked at you, Mom, and would ask you “where in the hell did she learn to talk like that?” and your reply was always “how in the hell should I know??”
Mom tried to teach me to sew. She was less than successful. Dad tried to teach me to beat him in chess. Again, unsuccessful. But you did teach us to respect people and if those people were not close family friends or relatives, “Sir” and “Ma’am” were the expected greetings. Anything else would be met with Dad’s stare while he clenched his jaw or Mom’s glare with her one eyebrow raised. Either one we knew would result in a lecture, when we got home or in the car.
Dad, you had a unique way of teaching me NOT to be late getting home, by presenting me with one of your Great Books of the Western World where I was introduced to Plato and Socrates and Don Quixote. And went a step further by “allowing” me to write a report on the chapters I was assigned and then present it to the family by standing up and reading aloud. You also taught me about taking the vocabulary test in the Reader’s Digest – resurrecting that fun in Tucson during one of your visits, by giving Bob, Ricky and I a vocabulary quiz and taking it a step further by requiring us to come up with a word that the others did not know and using it in a sentence as many times as possible during your 4 day visit. Ricky was the clear winner with his word of the day – Fartknocker. I guess it was a noun (of sorts) referring to someone you found to be unpleasant. Ricky will still use that word, as did his father. From the Gardner-Gdovin dictionary,
Mom- you grew up an only child to a mom of 6. Three boys. Three girls. I am sure the other kids learned from you as well. But it is these things that you taught me that I hold dear to my heart. You were, for lack of a better word, a tomboy as a kid and as an adult. You said what you meant and made no excuses for that. Take it or leave it, you didn’t care if someone didn’t like what you did or said. That was their issue. You taught me not to back down. You allowed me, much to my father’s chagrin, to politely correct an adult if they were wrong. Not always a good thing but the lesson was, when you know you are right, don’t let them browbeat you into changing if you feel in your heart, it is right. You taught me to “be yourself”. I remember going to some school function and I knew the other mom’s would be in dresses and dress shoes and I knew you would wear your polyester pants and one of dad’s crisp white shirts. I also knew that for a school or scout potluck, moms would bring their sharing food in a nice blue casserole bowl or a pretty platter they pulled out for just such an occasion. I also knew that you would proudly carry in your spaghetti sauce stained white Tupperware bowl with your red jello and pineapple and bananas stirred in for taste and plunk that oversized thing right down in the middle of the table. If course, you could not forget the serving spoon with the big plastic handle sporting burn marks from previous meals. I would turn three shades of red, until I see the ladies standing up and serving themselves some good ole J E L L O and commenting, “oh I hoped you were bringing this!” That was you. Comfortable in any situation.
You both taught me love and commitment and loyalty. That lies, no matter how small, have consequences. That life is not always fair and that spreading the family funds for shoes and clothes and school supplies is hard. That fancy parties were fun, but even parties in the front yard with the sprinklers and slip and slides are just as fun and everybody always wants to come back. There is a reason that friends over several years and six kids always conglomerated at our house. They were comfortable there. They had fun there. They thought it was fun that Mr. Gdovin always rode his bicycle – even in the snow; and that Mrs. Gdovin would leave her turkey in the oven to run barefoot in the street and play football with the boys from the neighborhood.
You taught us how to survive on very little food at times and how to get through funerals. We all knew how to handle struggles because of you. But we also knew how to love and nurture and plant and cook and laugh. Those are important things that you don’t get from just a book. You get them by watching and listening and engaging. That is how I learned.
So here’s to you Mom and Dad. Perfectly imperfect. Irreverently believing. And living your life your way. Happy Anniversary.
Thanksgiving Day. Couldn’t have asked for nicer weather. Jeffry and Kerri and the grandkids arrived the night before, and we had planned on getting together for Thanksgiving Dinner at a local buffet. Mateo and Marluce and I were ready to make the trek to Whitewater to pick up Gramma Anne to join us for some family time. I was quite proud of myself that I kind of winged my way to her home! Mateo got out of the backseat and held her arm as she got situated in the front seat. He is quite the little gentleman! I could tell that Anne was quite taken with him. We were off to meet the other Gardners for an early dinner!
And now, outdoors to enjoy some beautiful Thanksgiving weather and family photography!
After dropping off Gramma Anne at her house, I took the kids over to meet Dennis & Sandra Forsgren. Dennis was married to Bob’s sister, Linda until Linda was killed in a vehicle accident in 1996. Dennis was and remains a part of our family and close to my heart. A really nice visit followed – so nice to catch up.
Dennis actually owns the house that Gramma Anne resides. Don’t know why I cannot find anymore info on it, as that house was the original Whitewater Post Office. There is still a little side door that had the US Post Office in that old gold script. I would think it would be listed as a historical place, but I literally cannot find anything as far as research.
After a brief respite at our hotel room to let the kids lay around and wrestle a bit and me to do a tad of accounting, Robin and Alina rolled into town after a 2-day drive from Austin. We all met up at Denny’s for dinner and laughter and general catching up. It gave Robin a chance to meet Mateo and Marluce and for me to meet Alina. She is a sweet and precocious 3-year old with silky dark hair and brown eyes on the verge of turning green. What a beauty!
We had a wonderful day, albeit a tad long. Lots of family visiting. Lots of laughter and conversation. Lots to be Thankful. Back to the hotel early. In our pjs and the kids played their games on iPad while I caught up on some blogging and accounting. Good times.
The day before Thanksgiving and lots to do. Lori and I, along with my trusted assistants, Mateo & Marluce, are off to the venue to set up for Friday’s fun. I purchased 19 tablecloths of every color I could find. Lori purchased a gazillion disposable chafing trays with racks and Sterno and silverware and all the dinnerware and napkins you can imagine. We set out moving and arranging tables and chairs. Mateo and Marluce strung twisted crepe paper around the room.
and they made the banners WELCOME FAMILY 2014 REUNION.
The last thing to do was to set up the kids table to keep them from being bored. We had crayons and coloring pages, wooden ornaments and colored pencils, clay and shaping tools, Skip Bo and Story Cubes. I am thinking this table will be a hit!
Breakfast at the Hotel and enjoying the type of conversation that you can only experience while dining with a 10-year-old grandson and an 8-year-old granddaughter. All of the sudden, I feel a thick mane of hair on my neck and get a huge sister hug from my youngest sibling, Lori. After surprising us at breakfast, we head up to the room to gather anything else we need for the day.
Finishing a great photo-op with Auntie Lori, we jump in her new red Ford Focus and head out to see the hall in Palisade that she rented for our reunion. Always a pretty drive to Palisade and brings back so many memories of our entire family going out to the peach orchards to pick the best peaches that I have ever tasted. Kind of makes a lump in my throat as we pass so many familiar places from, oh, so long ago. Back to reality as I quiz Mateo and Marluce on the landmarks surrounding us as we drive. “Mateo, what is that mountain?” Mt Garfield. He catches on quickly. “And what is this long flat top mountain?” Right again. The Grand Mesa.
Lori and I take a lot of the drive to reminisce, And within a few minutes, the valley has enveloped me in her arms, and I am home again. My mind wanders from seeing myself as a child in a peach orchard with the family laughing and picking fruit and back to the present conversation of reunion plans. Lori picks up the keys and we check out the reunion hall and make mental notes of supplies we still need. Mateo and Marluce decided that some decorations were needed to add some color. After Lori drops us off at our hotel, we hop in the car and head out to Hobby Lobby and find crepe paper and banners and big sticky letters. It has been a long and busy day, so we decide on an early dinner at, in my opinion, the world’s best pizza ever – Junct’n Square.
After a pizza that Mateo is talking about three days later and describing it as “AMAZING”, (that, in itself, is amazing! Mateo is, shall we say, a very particular dining guest), we head back to the hotel and hop into pajamas and make an early evening of it. iPad games for them and accounting for me A wonderful day in my wondrous home town with people I love to share.
A few short years ago, I started a sibling Christmas gift exchange. The reason was a simple one. After the death of our oldest and youngest brothers, I just wanted the remaining four siblings to connect. The idea was to be nothing fancy but should be handmade or recycled or at least had some kind of personal aspect. We all were living in different places so far away from one another. Lori in Grand Junction, Mark in Colorado Springs, Robin in Austin and me in Tucson.
The first year I had Mark’s name and made him a calendar with footprints of his grand kids and family photos. The second year, I made Robin an ornament using some of Gram’s old costume jewelry. I cannot say what I did this year for Lori, because it would ruin her surprise!
I loved the gifts that Robin and Lori bestowed on me the previous two Christmases. This year, Mark had my name. Imagine my surprise to see a huge package all wrapped in cardboard and taped together by our front gate yesterday. As soon as I began cutting the tape, I realized just what my gift from the heart was.
Some years back, with the blessing of Gram, I signed over the deed to her house to her niece, whom I affectionately called Sissy. This house shared a split deed with Sissy’s home since the day they were built. Gram’s home was built in the late 1800’s and Sissy’s house built in the early 1900’s. Gram’s house at 4500 Perry Street in Denver, was the original family home of my great grandparents and was built by my great-grandfather and other friends and relatives. Years later, in 1906, my grandma was born in the front bedroom of that little 2 bedroom home, as was my mother in 1927. To say that this home had sentimental family history that always touched my heart, is an understatement at the very least.
After Sissy passed away, my cousin had both homes demolished. Gram’s home was nowhere near modern building code and would have been cost prohibitive to bring it to building and safety code. After the demolition, Mark made the trek from Colorado Springs to Denver and managed to salvage a little 24 inch door for me. It must have been a difficult thing to see the house gone, but still, he did it because I asked. I had to hold back tears as I removed the layers of cardboard and packing and tape to discover the door that Mark took the time to grab and then store at his home for several years.
I have so many ideas for this door. Shall I make it into a kitchen table? Maybe a wall hanging? In the meantime, my first instinct was to dress her for the holidays. And here she stands in her glory showing off a new wreath. Thanks, Mark. You made my day. No, not day. You made my Christmas oh so special, and I love you so much for your thoughtfulness.
This is one of Jim’s daughters, Sterling, holding Lori’s bouquet of fresh Dendrobriumorchids at Lori and Jim’s wedding in Palisade, Colorado on July 28, 2007.
a gdovin girl's perspective 