RHLuerding

#4

My grandpa loved (loves) me.

One of the most treasured relationships in my life (besides the one with my mother) is the one that I had (have?) with my grandpa, Robert Herman Luerding.

I wrote a biography of my grandpa when I was in 5th grade for grandparents day. I learned that he was born in 1922, went to Lutheran school day school, he went to the same high school that I eventually went to, he went to Dartmouth, and eventually became a VP with the Lee Rowen company in St. Louis. He married his high school sweetheart and had five children.

Robert Herman Luerding (known to his 16+ grandkids as Poppy) was never a very emotional person. He was stoic and reserved and only spoke when he had something to say. But his wit was razor sharp and he never missed the opportunity to make a joke. He told great stories that always held my full attention.

Poppy, like Scrooge, liked the darkness because it was cheap. He was always very frugal with his money. But, he did have room for one frivolity: music. He was quite the musician. He even wrote a hymn in his later life. He sang in his church choir for nearly 30 years and donated a sum of money for the choir to get new robes. He had a piano which he loved to play "like a Baptist".

My Poppy was the most faithful person I've known. We had great (semi)theological talks. When the end of his life was near, he reassured me that he was headed home. He wasn't afraid of dying because he knew where he was going: to be with his Beloved. I still remember the look on his face at my confirmation. He was so proud.

During my senior year of high school, Poppy was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He opted out of treatment and spent his remaining time at home. That's when I like to think I got the best of him. He passed only two weeks later. I was there when he left us. I'll never forget that moment.

At his funeral I sobbed. Because I missed him. Because this world had lost a great member of mankind. Because the church was packed. And because the church choir came and surrounded his casket to sing the Battle Hymn of the Republic (one of his favorites) as well as the hymn that he wrote, Not Ashamed.

I was very sad that Pop had died, for selfish reasons: he didn't get to see me graduate from high school or start college. Academics were always very important to him. But I also felt at peace.

Tonight I was drawn to Psalm 4:

Many are saying, "Who can show us anything good?"

Let the light of your presence shine on us, O Lord.

You put more joy in my heart than when their grain and new wine increase.

I fall asleep in peace the moment I lie down

because you alone, O Lord, enable me to live securely.

It's been on my heart lately. After I read this passage, I randomly flipped through my Bible. I found a single sheet of paper at the near the beginning, tucked between the pages. I pulled it out, realized what it was, and wept. That's really the only way to describe it. I wept. Big fat tears fell down my face.

It was an email from RHLuerding, my Poppy, who actually had email before I did. He wanted to tell me how much he loved the pictures I had taken on my recent voyage to France, being a world-traveler himself, he wanted to share his excitement. He wanted to congratulate me on my recent 4.o and offer to help my apply for scholarships to college.

And the very last sentence, that's what got me. He said he was proud of me, that he prayed for me everyday and that he loved me. Very much. Which means so much coming from him.

I can't help but think this was meaningful. I know that my Poppy is still praying for me. He still loves me.

# 3

#3

As a general rule, I'm not a huge fan of summertime. I mean, it's always been great to be off of school and not have a lot of responsibility, etc. My birthday is even in the summer. But the weather! I'm a fan of the cool/cold/freezing variety, not this sticky humid mess. I generally don't enjoy warm weather clothes (i.e. tank tops, shorts, bathing suits) in lieu of sweaters, scarves, hats and winter coats. Historically I just haven't enjoyed it.

That being said, I should probably eat my words. So far, without little doubt, this has been the best summer I've had. Camp was great this year. I've gotten to spend time with great friends, people who make me feel truely alive. I have a job. Two jobs in fact. I finally feel like an adult (which is really scary, but I'm going with it). I'm truly having a blast. I couldn't ask for more.

In other words, I have a new-found appreciation for summer. Summer now means Boulevard, sun dresses, babysitting fun kids at the pool, driving with the windows down, drinking on the porch at night, best friends, basically: KC at it's finest.

This is terribley incoherent, but true.

The World at Large

Halfway through the second week of camp. It's boys. They are so funny. Honestly I don't think it's more stressful to have the boys. I just think they have a very different energy than the girls do. The girls can be mean and catty and giggly. The boys just talk about weird and occasionally gross things. Their energy is just more physical and they are louder and listen less. But at the same time are more laid back. The only thing that might make this week worse is some of the staff. They drive me a little nuts...but, you know.

I'm still waiting to hear back from Stowers. Hopefully by the end of this week I will know. I just want a job. I want to have a plan at least for a little while. I need a reason to stay in KC because camp will be over soon. Bah.

I need to get back in the habit of reading and checking the news. When camp is over.

it's summertime

I need to know. I think my interview went well, but you know...it could go either way.

I'm trying to get excited for camp...slowly.

living in twilight

I'm taking a break to share some news. And general excitement/fear.

I graduated. It's weird to consider myself an alumna of Jewell. I think in my mind I'll always be a student there. This has been the weirdest feeling of my life. It really feels like most any other summer, except that in the deep recesses of my brain I know that I won't be going back to Jewell in the Fall. And now I feel like I just have too much time on my hands. Weird.

So, the day before graduation I had an interview at Children's Mercy to work in the Cytogenetics Lab. First I met with HR, the the lab supervisor, then the lab director. Honestly, I don't think it really went that well. I'm not totally sure that a clinical lab is the right setting for me. I have research at heart and I'm not sure working there will satisfy me. That said, I would love to have a job right now, and if I was hired, I would definitely consider it.

Now I have an interview at Stowers next Thursday. It's in the Gibson lab. I want this so bad I can taste it and I'm willing to be cliche. The more I read about developmental biology the more I am interested in its potential. I think that Stowers would be the perfect place for me. I love KC and would love to spend some quality time there as an adult not in school.

I feel like things are really starting to happen. I just don't want to blow it by wanting it too much.

Breathe.

underneath the skin

# 2

I think that for the most part the different parts of my body seem to be fairly normal-looking. They are approximately in proportion with one another and all look like standard versions of other people's body parts. There is one (or two rather) exception.

My feet. As a general rule, I'm not really a fan of most feet anyway, but mine feel especially foreign on my body. They are clearly reminiscent of hobbit feet, rather squarish with a few stray hairs on the tops.

I do like the scars I have from my surgery; they are kind of neat. Especially where the two scars don't overlap.

As I've gotten older and my feet have taken more abuse, there are strange little knobs on their sides. These are probably not good, but they don't bother me yet.

My toenails are small.

My feet are weird, but they probably fit me.

july, july!

I have decided to mix things up a bit, chart myself a new course. A blogging course at least. It might be copying from Nicole Krauss...just a little for inspiration.

I have come to realize in my life that most of the time there is little I am certain about. There are a ridiculous amount of unknowns. I've realized that I focus too much on these question marks and as such I worry about things I don't need to. So, I am going to start focusing on what I do know. What I have learned, the easy or hard way. What I feel is right in the world. In my life and the lives of those around me. I am hoping that this way I will be able to focus more on positive and tangible things that will remind me of why this life is so incredible.

#1

The part of my life that is the most stable, the most constant, and the part that will always be true and honest is the part of my life which centers around my mother. As much as I joke about her and take it light-heartedly, I get teary-eyed when I think of a life without her. She knows me inside and out, probably better than I understand myself and she knows just how to keep me in line. She has always put my needs first in her life and done her best to protect me. Sometimes the threat was real and tangible, but mostly it wasn't and I thought she was just being overbearring. I now realize that she has always had my best interest at heart and she just wants me to be happy; to know love and kindness, and to never live outside of the moment. She is beautiful and clever and sometimes sad and angry, but she is and always will be my mother. Our relationship is the most real thing in the world to me; the thing I understand and treasure the most.