Written on 7-7-13.
The volleyball girls held a benefit car wash for their head coach and my good friend, Anna Strauss, today. It was a huge success. We worked for about five hours, cleaning cars and trucks steadily the entire time. Many friends showed up to give their support, having heard about it on Facebook. She’s had some health issues, so she is on her way back from the Mayo Clinic in Massachusetts. I am glad she is taking the time to get it all figured out, and I pray she will be healthy from here on out. I hope they discovered what was ailing her and that once it’s treated, she will be as good as new.
I am not as good as new right now, however; I hurt myself. It was my own fault. During open gym last week, I bent down to pick up a volleyball standard that was a bit too far away from me, lifted while reaching forward and tore my lower back out. Actually, as painful as it still is, I wish I could “tear my back out” right now. The fire and the stinging sensation that came instantly caused me to drop the standard, and I nearly fell forward. I recognized the familiar agonizing feeling immediately since I had done it more than a few times before. I am still in agony as I type this.
I’ve been stretching, resting, heating and walking to get it straightened out, but it is a slow process. I missed out on playing in the Red, White, and Blue Tournament yesterday, so I could not defend my title. Chris and I won it last year. I was slated to play with “Wyoming Terry,” but I called the morning before to let him know what had happened and to give him a chance to get another partner. He was watching the fireworks show in Silverton.
I am sad and angry, but it is what it is. Working at the car wash was difficult, but it felt good to be a part of something where I could help somebody else for a change. It was Becca’s idea, and it was a fantastic one. Eric allowed us to use his parking lot at Big-O Tires. We earned a ton of money considering we were only out there for about four to five hours, and it was a team bonding experience as well. We might do it again as a fundraiser for the team next time.
Written on 7-10-13.
We are staying at the Apple Orchard Inn again, but this time it’s for the second Berryhill Reunion. The last one was eight years ago in Aztec. Jess (my mother-in-law) and John (her older brother by twelve years), and I were discussing this very journal after I read from some of the letters she had brought (multiple green binders full of them), letters written by her mother and father (and some others) from the mid-thirties to the early fifties. I suggested the possibility of Jess summarizing them and putting the content in a blog of her own. My feeling is once on the internet, forever preserved for future generations.
I feel so strongly in the power of writing, the ability to capture time through words. Who knows who the audience will be. Did John and Jess’s parents ever think that their letters might be read out loud in front of their children by a future son-in-law at a family reunion decades later?
No. No way. I am sure they did not, but because I read certain sections about the two siblings, memories were triggered and ensuing conversations were started. If the letters were gone or destroyed, if Jess hadn’t saved them and organized them, it never would have happened. Jess has threatened her three daughters that it will be written in her will that they will be explicitly forbidden to throw the letters out. I might end up being the one who saves them.
