An incomparable Brazilian vacation

I just woke up from a Sunday afternoon nap, and when I was dreaming, I was back in Brazil. This is interesting because when I was in Brazil, my dreams were in the United States. However, it gave me some time to reflect on our adventures over the past two weeks.

First, it was great to get out of the cold winter weather of North Dakota in January. Second, it was wonderful to meet all of Camila's relatives and see the city where she grew up. Third, I wasted a lot of time worrying about the food. Whatever they fed me, I ate, and it was all good. They know how to cook. That's the big stuff, now let's look at a few specifics.

Sao Paulo was large, crowded and noisy. Our little vacation home in the country was like a small piece of paradise. The country agreed with me...the city, well, not so much.

Regarding the all the fruit that we ate, I think my son Derek summed it up best, "We didn't eat a bad piece of fruit in Brazil." The bananas tasted better, the watermelon was also the best I ever tasted. Then there were a number of different fruit that I had never seen or eaten before and they were all good.

Unfortunately, we couldn't speak Portuguese. I hope we learn because I would love to hear stories told by Camila's dad and her uncles. I did have young people who translated some for me, but I know I missed a lot. For instance, when I heard the relatives laughing uncontrollably, I would ask this one guy, "What did they say?" His answer was always the same, "It doesn't translate well."

Still, we got to meet a lot of people and they all had wonderful qualities. One of my favorites was Uncle Carlos. You could tell from the instant you met him that he had a wonderful heart and loved all of his family...even the new ones from America. He also was the chief chef at every barbecue. This was a position that he had earned and he took a lot of pride in. He was also a very hard worker at the barbecues...he would wash the grills, fire them up, trim the meat and cook it all to perfection. He was always the last to eat. He had a very lovely wife as well...she always wore a smile on her face. Another fascinating thing about Carlos and Eleana was that we kept running into them...at the market and at a shopping mall. Remember, Sao Paulo is a city of 20 million people so it's a wonderful coincidence when you actually run into someone you know. Carlos was also one of our many drivers who brought us to and from the city.

Camila's cousin Paula was also one of our many drivers and she took us shopping one day -- not to a mall -- but to actual stores, cramped and crowded in the city. We found many bargains there. In fact, the prices were the best in these small stores and the highest at the malls. Paula also has a daughter who speaks English and she holds a special place in my heart because we had a good chat with her mom and grandma because she could translate our words almost effortlessly.

Camila's immediate family were a treasure trove of love. Her brother Rodrigo was very playful. Because we were there during their summer, Rodrigo was out of school and spent many days at our vacation home with us. We enjoyed his playful nature while playing cards and swimming. And since he spoke the language of Brazil, he also helped us out at the store and dealing with our landlord at the vacation home.

Aline, Camila's sister, is beautiful and she has a wonderful, sparkling personality. A room really does light up when Aline enters it. She also was tremendously busy while we were there as she worked until 6 p.m. and also was the chief planner for Derek and Camila's beautiful wedding. She also drove us to and from the city on some of the nights when the highway was less than hospitable. One night, she drove in thick fog and one night the steam from a rain reducing visibility.

I spoke in the previous blog about Camila's parents. I still marvel at them as they had to be extremely brave to send their teenaged-daughter to the United States. They were both very gracious and loving to Derek and his family.

I hope no one feels as though I left them out of my blog, because all we met have a special place in my heart. There was a young man we met whose name is Rafael. He told me at the wedding that I would always be in his heart. He and his relatives will also remain in my heart as well. Even though we are about 5,000 miles apart, I know that Camila's Brazilian family and her American family all believe in the same God, so one way we can stay closer is by praying for each other. Tonight, when I'm on my knees in prayer, I will pray for each of them...and I'm sure they will do the same.

To really get to know someone....

You have  probably heard the expression, "To really get to know someone, you have to walk a mile in their shoes."

Well, I'm not literally walking a mile in her shoes, but I am getting to know my daughter-in-law a lot better by traveling to her country and meeting her relatives. Our daughter-in-law is Camila, a native of Sau Paulo, Brazil, a city of 20 million people.

First of all, I know that she is extremely brave to have left her home in Brazil while in high school and move to the United States to stay with a family she didn't even know. As luck would have it, the family was the Steve Ash family in Beulah...a nicer bunch of people you would never meet. But still, think about traveling thousands of miles to live in a climate a lot colder than yours. And even if you know English, you don't know it as well as the people who speak it as their native tongue.

I also always knew that our daughter-in-law Camila could be very intense and also very funny. After meeting her parents in Brazil, I see that she comes by this naturally. Her dad and mom both run successful businesses. They know business, they understand money, and they can almost pierce you with their eyes when speaking to you. And then in a blink of an eye, they can be laughing and enjoying themselves. They love life. They love their families and they love the families who love their children. I can appreciate that...I feel the same way.

What ironic about this is that her dad puts me so much in mind of Belinda's dad. He's a big guy and can overwhelm you by his size. What's ironic is that Grandpa Doll and Camila didn't hit off every well. It was at Derek's college graduation when the two of them first met. Someone said, "Camila, this is Derek's grandpa." So, Camila said, "Hello, Grandpa." But Grandpa Doll's retort was, "Not yet, I'm not."

Oh well, a couple of years later and Derek and Camila were married and now Grandpa Doll is also her grandpa. Still, I could see something similar happening with her dad. He drove us from the airport to a bakery for breakfast the other morning. While he only speaks Portuguese and I don't, I could tell that he "got down to business" when talking to his daughter on the one-hour drive. I could only guess what they were talking about...but I knew it wasn't small talk. It probably had to do with his daughter's upcoming wedding in Brazil...or maybe her college classes...or her husband...or her job at Minot State University. Or perhaps it was to tell Camila about his job as a fish marketer in Brazil. A couple of times on the drive, his cell phone rang, and he spoke to whomever he was talking to in the same stern voice that he talked to his daughter.

Now think about it, as a dad, he sees his daughter at the most about twice a year and sometimes only once in two years. Just that thought breaks my heart. I need to see my family a lot more often than that.

Now let me talk about Camila's mother. First, let me say, she is a hard worker and a great cook. You can tell that she would be a great mother. There would be no sacrifice that she wouldn't make for her children. In fact, she sold her car so she could send Camila to college in the United States. To this day, she doesn't own a car.

She owns and operates a beauty salon, next to the house she grew up in on a busy street in Sau Paulo. She took Camila to her salon so she could wash her daughter's long black hair. While there, one of Camila's aunts stopped by to visit. She lives only a couple of houses down from the salon. The aunt is of Italian descent and has blond hair with blue eyes. This stands out in Brazil. She looked like she could be a sister to a family of girls I grew up with in Roundup. Among her many attributes are her cooking skills, She said she doesn't like pizza but she loves to make pasta. Well, I like pizza and pasta, so she's my kind of relative.

The aunt's husband is Carlos, a good soul who also came to the airport as we had way too much luggage. The cars in Brazil are small because the roads are narrow and the price of gas is expensive.

Let me tell you about another relative I met. I think her name is Paula...but it's pronounced Pah-ool-a. Anyway, we met this sweetheart at the grocery store yesterday and she drove the car that took me and Camila's brother Rodrigo to our vacation home 30 miles north of the city. She too is a kind soul and a fun-loving individual. When we drove down a particularly steep hill, we would yell "Wee!" and fling our arms in the air like you do when riding a roller coaster.

Well, there will probably be more adventures to tell as the next week and a half progresses, but for now...Chao...or er, um, Bye.

Christmases past and Christmases future

I might be getting old, but I'm really starting to enjoy Christmas. No, I don't enjoy it the way I did as a kid. Then I wanted nothing more than to open the presents and play with the toys or go sailing down a snowy hill on a new sled. Before Christmas, I would spend hours looking at the Sears "Wish Book" as the Christmas catalog was called. After Christmas, I would spend hours looking at my ViewMaster or playing with my Spirograph, Etch-a-Sketch or some other toy from a different generation.

My brother Randy and I spent many a snowy day inside playing "football" on an electric vibrator board. If my kids saw how clunky that game was, they wouldn't believe it. They are used to playing "Madden" football on the TV with realistic plays, sound effects and players being tossed in the air from some very hard tackles. Electric football on a vibrator board was nothing like that. If there were noises, you were responsible for making them.

Now, Christmas seems to touch my heart because of other things besides toys and football. One is the spiritual nature of Christmas. I like hearing the stories told of Jesus birth, both in Scripture and from the pulpit. I especially like hearing Christmas music. I'm amazed at how many great Christmas songs have been written in my lifetime. It seems that the birth of our Savior is something that continues to inspire artists to this day. We are all blessed by the inspiration of Christ's birth in a manger more than 2000 years ago.

I'm also blessed by family. I had a great family when I was a child. I loved my older brothers and sisters when we all lived under the same roof. When they moved away, I remember talking to them on the telephone when they called on Christmas Eve and we thanked each other for the presents and found out about their holiday activities.

Now as a 50-something adult, I have adult children. I also have a father who lives with us. I see Christmas differently...sort of through their eyes. This year we spent Christmas at Derek and Camila's in Minot. This was a new experience for us. Their home in Minot was beautiful and decked out in holiday finery. There were also what seemed like hundreds of presents under the tree. And a feast of ham to eat after opening the gifts. It was wonderful, and the drive to and from Minot was beautiful with snowy landscapes. The roads were in good condition and the car was warm and snug with five adults. Sometimes we listened to Christmas music on the radio and at other times we just visited in the car.

The games we played in Minot involved standing in front of a TV set and slicing fruit that appeared on the TV screen with our bare hands, or surfing down some river in a jungle setting while jumping up and down in front of the TV to keep from hitting rocks, boulders and other obstacles. Believe me, spirograph doesn't hold a candle to these new video games.

Fifteen years ago, our Christmas tradition included spending Christmas Eve in Glendive with Belinda's side of the family and then driving to Roundup for Christmas day with my parents in Roundup. Often my brothers and their families were also in Roundup. Then for the past seven years, we've spent our Christmas holidays in Mandan with our sons. We opened presents, watched movies and ate Belinda's delicious meals, such as prime rib and twice baked potatoes.

Interestingly, even Belinda's parents were not in Glendive this year. They traveled to Casper, Wyoming, to spend Christmas with their youngest daughter and her family, which includes three grandchildren under the age of six. How special was that Christmas? I would have loved to have been with them to see the Christmas lights sparkle in a two-year-old nephew's eyes. But if Grandma and Grandpa Doll can drive to Wyoming, it just goes to show that we are never too old to start new traditions.

With Christmas out of the way, we have another big event coming up, a two-week trip to Sao Paulo, Brazil. We will have a chance to meet and visit with Camila's parents and her sister and brother. In Brazil, Santa Claus is known as "Papa Noel" and Christmas is "Felix Natal." Maybe some time in the future, we will be celebrating Christmas in Brazil. It will be a far cry from spending Christmas in either Roundup or Glendive, but the world seems to be shrinking or perhaps our family is expanding. Anyway, stay tuned for future Christmas adventures.

Random observations about Christmas

The world today only slightly resembles the world I remember as a small child. Take the Christmas tree, for instance.

When I was growing up in Roundup, our Christmas tree was real. My last live Christmas tree was when I was a bachelor in Glendive. For all my married life, our trees have been artificial. And there have been several. I know there is less fire danger with a fake tree, and in the long run they are a lot cheaper than a live tree...yet I miss a real tree. For one thing, I liked the smell of the evergreen tree when it arrived in your home. Sure, you had to water it, and you probably didn't want it up for a month to dry out, but I still miss it.

I miss the tinsel that we use to hang on the real trees. You don't dare hang tinsel on a fake tree because you would never get it all off, but on the live trees, the tinsel -- which was the last thing you put on -- transformed the tree into a shimmering piece of holiday art.

I also miss the big lights we used to put on the tree. Now we have hundreds and hundreds of little lights, but I don't think they are as pretty as the big colored lights we used to put on our real trees.

The live trees might not have been as full or perfectly formed as an artificial tree, but I don't think you get the same "Christmasy" feeling with an artificial one.

* * *

If someone was trying to figure you out by looking only at your Christmas ornaments, what would he or she find out about you? Ours clearly tell a story. First, we have two sons. The oldest was born in August 1988 and the second in July 1990. There are ornaments that welcomed and announced the arrival of both of them. 

The spy would also discover that we have traveled throughout the United States and we have souvenir ornaments from many of the places we've visited. 

We also like Grandmas. Actually most of these were purchased by Belinda for her Grandma Frohlich. However, they have been returned to us and now they honor all our Grandmas. I loved my Grandmas and I'm sure Belinda did too. Someday, our grandchildren may see them and think they are in honor of their grandparents. 

There are other tell-tale signs of our life that hang on the tree. For instance, a spy would surely thing we are Minnesota Twins fans. And, actually, we are not. The Twins simply are the closest major league team to us and we've purchased several ornaments when we visited the Metrodome to watch them play. For the record, I like the Yankees, Scott likes the Red Sox and Derek likes the Cubs. But we don't have any of those ornaments...just the Twins. 

* * *

One of the traditions I like at Christmas is going caroling with a group from our church. This year we had 18 carolers, which is enough to nearly fill every square inch of the Mandan Living Center with music. Well, not quite, but it was fun to go down a long hall of rooms and hear the voices of the carolers pass by. First, you might hear a bass voice, then a soprano, then a tenor, next a couple of alto voices. It was pretty cool. 

This year we caroled during the afternoon. And it was a nice afternoon. Not quite shirt-sleeve weather, but certainly not winter-coat weather. 

Over the years, caroling has included different instruments. Some years we've used chimes, other years guitars. Almost every year we have Christmas bells, especially for "Jingle Bells," but this year, all we had was our voices. 

The thing that makes caroling so wonderful is the expressions we see on the faces of the people we sing to. No matter their age or condition, I believe that people are transformed into small children when they start hearing familiar Christmas carols. 

* * *

My favorite part of the Christmas season is probably the candlelight service at church on Christmas Eve. This tradition goes back to my childhood. Once the service was over, we would go home and open presents. That's why I liked it as a child, but I like it as it adult because it stirs emotions inside of me...especially at the end of the service when we are singing "Silent Night" by the light of the candles. 

At the Copa, Copacabana...

I can't remember what 8-track tape was blaring out of the speakers on the day I drove east out of Hellgate Canyon in May 1980 when I left my college days behind, but I remember one of my favorites at the time was Barry Manilow. A couple other favorites singers were Crystal Gayle (Don't it make my brown eyes blue) and Jimmy Buffett (Margaritaville).

In fact, I felt a particular kinship with Jimmy Buffet. He helped me pass one of the few radio/TV classes that I took while attending college. I had to tape a 30 minute radio program where I acted as though I were a disc jockey. Since I owned about four long-playing (LP) Jimmy Buffet albums and since I'd seen him in concert at the annual Aber Day festival in Missoula, it seemed like I knew him. Or at least, he knew me. So I spent my 30 minutes "on air" talking about my buddy Jimmy while playing his music.

It's funny, but once I left Missoula, I forgot about Jimmy, Barry and Crystal. My musical tastes turned to other recording stars. Later in 1980 I fell in love with Sheena Easton singing about the "Morning Train" and in 1984, I discovered Wham and their mega-hit "Wake me up before you go, go."

I'm sure there were other songs and singers as well that ought to be mentioned, but the point I want to make is that even though the years passed and other singers and songs took their place, to this day if I hear Boz Skaggs singing "Lido Shuffle" on the radio, I'm instantly transformed to the undergraduate at the University of Montana listienng to that song during lunch hour before I left for my afternoon classes.

Another favorite of mine was B.J. Thomas singing "Hooked on a Feeling." While the song was recorded in the late 1960s, I didn't discover it until I was living off campus my senior year. I would crank up the 8-track and sing at the top of my lungs until I drove my avocado green LeMans to campus. If the song was over, I simply clicked the tape player three times until I had it cued up again and sang along with B.J. one more time.

Now, considering that I went to college during the disco craze, it's amazing -- or maybe not -- that none of my favorite singers were Donna Summers, K.C. and the Sunshine Band or some other disco novelty. While I went to the disco in Missoula a few times, it was never my crowd nor my music.

My favorite dancing spot in Missoula -- well actually, East Missoula -- was the Cabin Bar. It had a house band led by a guy from Miles City who went by the name of "Wild Bill." The Cabin was a country-western bar that played live music seven nights a week and attracted up to 350 people on any given night. I liked to jitterbug and the band at the Cabin could play Bob Wills and A Sleep at the Wheel swing music.

Another group I liked while in college was the vocal trio, The Lettermen. I found their harmonies and their songs very relaxing in the evenings and on the weekends. In looking back, it seems that I used music to either ramp up for classes or relax when I was at home from college.

I might mention that I still have all my LPs from my college days. I also have a turntable. But the records and player are downstairs and I'm upstairs...so I don't listen to them. However, if I ever need to go back to college, it's nice to know that I still have my tunes.

The miracle on second avenue northeast in Mandan

Normally, I would tell you that four-year-old Joshua is a miracle child because of answered prayers when he was an infant. For the first six months of his life, Joshua required multiple blood transfusions because his body didn't produce its own red blood cells. And then suddenly, something changed and he has been better and stronger ever since.

But this latest miracle I wouldn't believe if I hadn't seen it for myself. It occurred this morning while he was getting dressed. His mom was ironing some clothes for him so Joshua was reclining in our livingroom in his underwear. His grandmother -- my sister Janet -- looked at his right foot and noticed that there was some dried blood on one of his toenails.

"What happened here?" she asked.

Up to that point, Joshua had noticed it so didn't really have an answer.

"Did that happen yesterday when you were playing in the dirt?"

"Yes, grandmuh," he said, "I was playing in the duht."

When his mother emerged from the bedroom, Joshua was limping around the frontroom making sure that all his weight was only on the heel of his right foot and not on his bloody toe.

His mother inspected the toe and asked me to get a wash cloth so she could clean off the dried blood and get a better look at the toenail.

Thinking on my feet, I not only got him a warm, wet wash cloth but also a box of Band-aids.

"No Band-aids, no Band-aids," the four-year old cried out.

So I took the Band-aids back to the bathroom medicine chest.

Upon returning, I could see the little boy writhe with pain as his mom took the wash cloth in hand.

"It willy huhts!" he cried out.

I thought I could distract him while she cleaned his toenail, so I moved further past him so he had turn his head and look at me instead of his mom and the washcloth.

To my surprise, his mom said, "This looks more like chocolate than dried blood."

To which the little boy whimpered again just as the wash cloth touched his foot.

She said, "Joshua, I think this is some chocolate from your Pop Tart this morning. He had a Smore's Pop Tart."

With that, the miracle occurred and he was cured. He didn't limp any more and his foot didn't really hurt him anymore.

We all had a great big laugh and I said, "That'll make a nice blog...the miracle of Mandan."

Thoughts on turning 92

Dad will be turning 92 this coming Thursday. As the day approaches, I've been giving it some thought, partly because I doubt I'm going to make it to 92 so I'll take this opportunity.

As I was walking this morning, it occurred to me that dad will have outlived my mom by at least 10 years. I say "at least" because he shows few signs of being in poor health. At this point in time, I wonder if he won't reach 100...thanks in part to modern medicine and good nutrition.

In the spring of 2007, he got a pacemaker and the doctors said the battery would last for eight to 10 years. I remember thinking, "that should last him a lifetime." Now I'm beginning to wonder. He may need a battery replacement after all.

I also remember when dad's 90-some-year-old half brother Glenn would visit mom and dad in Roundup. Glenn had the uncanny ability of falling asleep while holding a conservation with you. Dad doesn't do that but he can fall asleep at a moment's notice. One minute he's watching the Big Bang Theory and laughing and the next minute he's asleep while sitting up on the couch.

This brings me to the topic of dad's cat, "Picasso." Cats like to sleep, especially Picasso. He sleeps all night and he sleeps most of the day. In comparison, dad and his cat have a lot in common. A normal day for dad begins at 7 a.m. with a bowl of corn flakes and cut-up banana. He also swallows about eight pills, which are either for Alzheimer's or his heart. He likes his lunch at noon, and he doesn't seem to be too fussy. If it's on the table, he'll eat it. He also takes three pills with lunch which are an additional heart pill along with a multi-vitamin and an iron pill. For supper, he likes to eat at 6 p.m. and again will eat almost anything. So far, we know he doesn't like asparagus and he's not a big pasta fan. He has another five pills with supper, which are some of the same as his breakfast pills but he also has one for cholesterol. (I'm taken to believe that all Van Dykes take a pill for cholesterol). Dad also requires inhalers in the morning and at night to keep him from wheezing. If I forget to do this, his wheezing breaths will quickly remind me.

He will clear the dishes after every meal and attempt to wash them, even though we will eventually put them in the dish washer. He also cleans the kitty litter every morning and takes the garbage out to the alley in the morning and in the evening, if need be.

On Thursdays, he goes grocery shopping with Belinda and pushes the cart for her. When they get to the checkout line, he not only puts the groceries on the checkout counter, he also arranges the groceries in a manner known only to Grandpa and God. This seems to irritate the cashiers because he is grabbing the ketchup or other items and moving them to the back of the line just about the time the cashier is going to grab it and ring it up. It's an interesting dance to watch.

Belinda works most weekday mornings at the church but that doesn't bother dad because he sleeps most mornings...just like Picasso. As long as lunch is prepared and on the table by noon, he's a happy fellow. If it's not ready, he knows where the candy bar stash is hid and he'll go feed himself.

He likes company as long as he doesn't have to talk. He will sit and listen, and probably nod off. He can't play cards, checkers or Scrabble anymore, but he will sit and watch others play.

So that's what turning 92 is like for dad. Life is comfortable as long as we conform to his schedule.