Interfaith Council Musical Tribute, 10 March 2013

Natalie and Josie, with their scrabble crackers, excited to be actually driving and parking ON Temple Square. Because NO ONE gets to do that! Ususally....

After spending Saturday afternoon practicing and loading instruments, we met on Sunday morning at noon to drive to Salt Lake's Temple Square. Even though the Musical Tribute of the Interfaith Roundtable did not begin until 6 pm, we were scheduled for an early sound check and an opportunity to rehearse in the Tabernacle. Besides our own music, we got a preview of the Hindu children's choir and of the Pacifica Institute's young whirling dervishes.

My wonderful brother Bruce and his equally wonderful wife, Sara, had agreed to cater our early dinner. We met them at the West Temple entrance to Temple Square at 3:30. This is the menu that Sara had planned for us:

Clam Chowder, Tomato Bisque, Mushroom soup, French onion soup                 
Cold Cut Sandwiches, Egg salad sandwiches, chicken salad sandwiches, tuna salad sandwiches
Mex-Cali Green Salad, Mustard Potato Salad, Coleslaw, Butternut Squash salad

Sliced Oranges                        Cheese and Crackers

Sliced Apples                          Potato Chips

Dill Pickles                              Clam Dip

Almond Cookies                       Sour Patch Kids Candy

Swedish Cookies                      Sour Apple Candy

Waffle Cookies                         Easter Egg Candy

Brownies

Water

Soda Pop
And they provided all this food for 30 people, spending only $201.75!
Dr. Grimshaw can refund the money they spent, but their effort to prepare it, and the service to right where we needed it = PRICELESS. 

All photos that follow of the behind-the-scenes action are by Egha and Nadia Kusuma. They are taken in the first basement of the Tabernacle, accessible through door number two.  Very fun to be down there! Since our room was full of us and the dervishes, other groups got to go through tunnels that led to under the Assembly Hall. Who knew?!

Helping to clean up: Matt on the left; on the right side of the table, Aunt Sara, Tanielle, Michael, Natalie, me, Beau and Ryan.

Tanielle filling her plate. In the background, the sufi whirling dervishes that Sara so graciously shared our food with.

The Dervishes and their mothers

Josie and Sara hamming for the camera

Dr. Jeremy Grimshaw and Nate getting out the costumes: time to get ready. Heidi, Cherise and Josie in the background.

"This is the way we wrap ourselves, wrap ourselves..." The men have two skirt layers to wrap themselves in. Here Nate and Ryan are demonstrating to the newbies, Jason and Matt, how it is done.

Egha and Ryan getting dressed.

I Made Lasmawan and his son Putu. Putu is ready to put on his demon costume.

Dad helping Putu get ready.

Putu is almost ready...he just needs his fingernails.

Putu is ready, and so are the dervishes, so they took a photo opportunity.

The girls were getting ready, too....here is Nora and Sara showing how it is done.

Made helps Egha get his head-piece on correctly. (Both Indonesian, by the way.)

It was about this time that my son David made my day. He was working at Salt Lake Public Library, and was supposed to get off at five. I texted him to see if he was going to come to the concert. He texted back that he was just too hungry--he hadn't eaten all day, so he didn't think he could make it to 9 pm without eating.

It was daylight savings change day, and David had not eaten breakfast before rushing off to church, then to the train station to get to work on time, and then had been working all afternoon. So he was indeed hungry.

I texted: Well, Bruce and Sara brought food, and we will save some for you.
David: Okay, then I will come.
After a couple of minutes, he texted: Where is the Salt Lake Tabernacle?

I laughed. Seriously?

I texted back: ummm....Temple Square...

After a few minutes: Oh, that one! :o)

He was really hungry--he needed to feed that brain of his!

David came to door number four, where the missionaries were watching out for him, and I gave him a bag of three sandwiches and a bottle of Hawaiian punch. Then he went and got a place to sit near the center of the balcony. Our group had seats, nice and close to the front, but frankly, terrible...so much of the stage was not visible to us.

David saved seats for Uncle Bruce and Aunt Sara, who had taken the leftover food back to their area to distribute to needy families. (They are so awesome that way.)

Playing the waiting game: back row Ryan, Sara (his wife), Matt, me. Front row: Cherise, Josie, Natalie, and others...Egha at the end of the row.

This time, I am looking away from the camera, talking to Tanielle. Everyone else is hamming it up a bit more. Except for Sara...she was not aware of the camera...

On stage for Jauk, which is a topeng dance. Josie and I are playing suling, which are flutes. Of the four suling players, L-R is Josie, Nate's wife (who has a name but I can never remember it), me and Matt. Photo by Annalyn Greer.

The Deseret News carried this lovely picture of Putu.

Belaganjur in the Tabernacle!  I am in the back row, to the right of Nate, the tall guy. Tanielle is beside me, then Heidi and Josie.

It was so MUCH FUN. Even though we were at the Tabernacle for hours, it was such a good program, and such a good feeling to participate with the Interfaith Roundtable people, who work so hard to promote unity.

Fox News announcer Ninevah Dinha, who is Syrian, was the MC. She put the following piece on Fox News, which I had hoped to embed, but it isn't working.



Hopefully the link works.

Inspired by Nancy

I was really proud of Nancy's great writing as a guest blogger on this post. I appreciated her comments, and her interesting writing style. She got me thinking about breastfeeding, so I thought I would chime in on that topic.

My own mother believed in breastfeeding, but I was the only one of her children who was not breastfed. Mom had developed what she described as "a pain in my sawdust" on the left hand side, and she found that she just could not hold me and feed me and deal with that pain, too. I don't think she ever discovered the cause of the pain, but then, she did not have to breastfed anyone after me, so it worked out okay for her.

My oldest sister had her first baby in August 1976, when I was 18 years old, going on 19. She tried to breastfeed, but it was difficult, and she got discouraged, and let's face it--the hospitals and doctors were really pushing formula in those days. I loved to help Colleen with her baby Michael, and I really noticed that she had to pack around a lot of stuff to keep that baby happy! Bottles, and formula, and all sorts of hud. LeRon was still attending BYU, as was I, so I got to babysit Michael and play with and feed him, and enjoy his babyhood.

When my sister Arlene had her first baby in January 1979. Jenna was born in Canada, and I was in Provo going to BYU, so I didn't get a chance to watch Arlene with Jenna the way I had watched Colleen with Michael T. Then, in the summer of 1979, my cousin Margaret and I drove to San Diego, where Arlene and her family had moved (after an INSANELY cold winter that made her husband Michael L. think all Canadians must be NUTS) and spend a couple of weeks with them.

That was when I got completely sold on breastfeeding. Arlene went everywhere with Margaret and I--to the beach, to Sea World, to Disneyland, to Knotts Berry Farm--and all she had to grab was Jenna, a couple of diapers and a blanket.  When I compared that to packing such a huge bag as Colleen had to in order to go anywhere with Michael, I decided that breastfeeding was the easy, convenient way to go.

I married Bruce in 1980 and was busy raising two little girls, and it was not until after a fertility work-up that I gave birth to David in February 1983. By then, I had also watched Arlene go through successfully breastfeeding baby number two, Lance, even though she and Michael were working hard at building their business. She still made breastfeeding work, and it had worked well.

Since David was born in a big hospital where they just wanted to get you out the door as soon as possible, I did not really see a lactation specialist. I was just sent on my way with my baby, to fend for ourselves. And I just could not get the hang of breastfeeding! I was tired and sore anyway, and the poor baby was hungry and upset and had to deal with a mother who was a nervous wreck. It was not ideal. When I took David to the doctor, he was not gaining enough weight, so I was told I would have to supplement him.

Luckily, I had a couple of really great friends who were proficient breastfeeders. Roberta was the mother of three or four daughters, and Jackie had about seven kids, including as set of twins. They told me NOT to supplement the baby, but to supplement myself. They "prescribed" brewer's yeast, which they said would both calm me down, and help me to produce plenty of milk.  Well, it worked! Brewer's yeast tasted horrible--since I hate milk anyway, I didn't want to make milk even worse by mixing brewer's yeast into it, so I mixed it into tomato juice, and then would guzzle it down.  Within a few weeks things were going really well, and I became a proficient breastfeeder in my own right.

After that experience with David, I did not need brewer's yeast again--I remember that I bought some when I had Nancy, because I thought I would need it, but without the stress of worrying that I couldn't feed my baby, I produced milk just fine.

I nursed David for 21 months, Nancy for 14 months, Patrick for 23 months, and Josie for 25 months.  That means that I spent about seven years of my life nursing. And that is okay with me, because for me, nursing meant no George, no Tom, no Valdemort. Call it what you will, I was delighted to have months go by without it!

I only quit nursing Nancy at 14 months because I believed I was pregnant, but though I would go to the doctor, I was always found not to be pregnant. I had a very prominent linea nigra however, and so I was sure I was pregnant. When they would say, "When was your last period?" though, I had to say "21 (or 22...or 23) months ago" because I had not had one since I became pregnant with Nancy. So, after a couple of months of that, by the time Nancy was 14 months old, I finally had a positive pregnancy reading. So I quit breastfeeding her to be able to concentrate on nourishing the new baby. The doctor scheduled an ultrasound to see how far along I actually was, since nothing was adding up...and the Saturday before my Monday appointment, I lost the baby. So, Nancy got weaned early and all for naught.

Nancy loved the feel of silky things like my undershirt. She loved to stick her hand down my shirt to find the silk...that was easy to fix. We carried her silky blanket everywhere, and she would feel that, moving it between her fingers as she nursed.

Patrick was a skin-feeling baby, and loved to stick his hand down my shirt and feel for his dinner.  I had to work very hard to teach him to grab my neck instead. In fact, "neck" was one of his first words, and he still wanted to hold onto my neck as a toddler after he was weaned...he just got a lot of comfort from feeling my skin.

Josie was a very determined nursing baby. She would have nursed until kindergarten if she had her way! She loved to nurse. I worked full time from the fall she was 1.5 years old. My friend Trina tended her, and she was nursing Britton, who was a bit younger than Josie. Sometimes, Josie was quite jealous, and Trina would say, "As soon as your mom comes, then it will be your turn to nurse, Josie!" I finally weaned her because Abra and I (and maybe Nancy?) went to Grassy Lake for Craig T.'s high school graduation, leaving Josie home with her dad and brothers. She had to quit cold turkey--but that was the only way that showed any possibility of working for her.

As for attitudes to nursing in public--in California, it was pretty normal in the early eighties to just nurse your baby. I would usually just discreetly lift my T-shirt and plug in my baby. I might put a thin blanket over the baby, or I might not, but I never felt that I MUST. And I literally nursed my baby everywhere, including while driving on the San Diego freeway. I would put him in the front carrier, and if he was fussy, just plug him in and nurse him. No seat belt laws in those days...no baby car seat laws.

I don't remember it being a problem in Raymond either, with both baby David and baby Nancy. If I needed to nurse her during sacrament meeting, I usually just did. When they got older, I would take them out, because they were usually more wiggly. But I don't remember that nursing was horrifying to anyone. Seems like the mothers were pretty discreet, and just did what was needed to keep the baby comfortable.

The funniest story is one that happened when I was nursing Patrick. I was the ward organist in Burnaby, B.C. So I was up on the stand playing, and Bruce was in the audience holding the baby. When I had a break, I would go and get Patrick, and take him to the mother's room and nurse him, and then take him back, hand him to Bruce, and go play the closing song. One Sunday, I was wearing a white pencil skirt. I nursed Patrick, and he pooped his pants. I took him into the baptism changing room, where there was a sink, and laid him on the floor. Wanting to be as quick as possible, instead of walking around a bench, I decided to step over it to reach the sink. When I did....rip...went the seam of my pencil skirt. I was ripped right up the center...what was I going to do? I couldn't go back into the chapel looking like that...I couldn't even go and tell Bruce I had a problem. So I prayed that I someone would come in who could help me.  Soon the door opened, and a girl (from the other ward) came in. I told her my problem. She said, "Oh, I have a sewing box in my car...we just had homemaking meeting on Thursday, and I forgot to take it into the house...I'll go get it." She went and got it, I took off my skirt, we sewed it up, and then I went back to play the organ, arriving right on time!

I think it was much easier to be a mother when I raised my babies than it is now. My hat is off to young mothers, who struggle with people who have bad attitudes about children in general, not to mention nursing, discipline--you name it, there are people with bad attitudes and negative opinions about everything.

I am just happy that I made the choice to nurse my babies and that it worked out that I could do it. I am always busy, and have often had to work. I am glad that my decision to nurse forced me to sit down, relax and just hold my babies. I think they needed the touch and attention, and I know that I did.