Hip, knees, decisions

I had a knee replaced in 2002-on the opening day of the SLC winter Olympics. It did great, until I crashed on my bike and trashed the hip on the same side. I now wear a stainless steel plate, with the accompanying screws and pins, in my hip (resulting in a leg about 1 inch short). These go well with my chromium cobalt, titanium and ultra-high molecular weight polypropylene knee. The other knee is getting progressively worse-has been bone on bone for several years, and I am now feeling it when I ride my bike... I talked with the physician's assistant to the Dr for whom I see many rehab patients. I gave him permission to take a look at my most recent x-rays. He noted that my left knee is trashed, my right knee replacement part is loosening, and that my hardware in the right hip is loosening.
So, decisions to make. Have the left knee replaced soon? Get the right hip hardware removed and consider having a hip put in to give me back my leg length and proper rotation? Do anything with the right knee, or wait for the prosthesis to loosen more? And, to top it off, I think I would like to switch Drs--I really like my original knee replacement Dr, but I see great results from this new one. They work out of the same office, so how do I switch without offending the old Dr? Does it matter?
Maybe I will just live with things the way they are. Don't feel like I am ready for any major surgeries yet.
Strange thought--while growing up, playing ball, going through young adulthood, my legs were my strongest attribute, by far. I still bike, hike, work, mow lawns.
the PA noted that I am an extremely highly functioning individual, considering the hip/knees I have. Perhaps I will just keep functioning and let things be.
A pain-free hike would be nice, however....

Fathers, Days, Sons and Daughters

Today is Father's Day. I had a dream the other night about my father. Don't remember the details, as it is the case with many of my dreams, but I do remember the feeling. It was a comfortable, good feeling. I think there is something I need to do. Now, that last statement is not quite true. I know there are some things I need to do relating to my father. We have his personal work done, but he has not been sealed to his parents, his wife, or his kids yet. Those who knew my dad might question if doing this vicarious work would amount to anything. As I age, I am becoming more aware of not trying to judge other's hearts. I have neither the scale nor the feather. I am deeply grateful that the Judge of our hearts is He to whom our hearts belong. I don't know why I am often quick to form assessments of other's heart tones, when I am still working on my own well into my second half-century. How can I know others' hearts-even those closest to me in life-when I am still figuring out how to change my own? And I am more and more relying on an infinite measure of mercy and grace to qualify me for the "well done...". Anyway, I need to push on getting Dad's work done--at least the portion I can do here.
We went up to Logan for the night Friday. Samuel Tanner made his appearance. I love all of the grandkids, but, honestly, it seems like they get more fun as they get older (yeah--wait for those teen years..), so I hope and pray for health and good things for the new moms and the new babes, but I have a bit of "this is nice, but it will be better when they learn tricks and can at least be mobile" thoughts. Until. Until I hold that little squirming soul in my hands and marvel at the miracle of it all. Every reflex, yawn, stretch, look and expression still amazes me. And it did with each of my own kids as well as with the grandkids.
My first experience with this was when Ricky came to us. As a father, I had unimaginable feelings of love, astonishment at the miracle, and panic that I was now responsible for the well-being of another of God's children! Thank God that He sends help along the way. I thought I was getting the daddy-thing down when the next one came, and it was Emily- a girl! Again, the overwhelming feelings, added to by the thought "what am I ever going to do with a girl?" Then we had several more! Girls, I mean. Megan, then Lindsy, then Nat! And unique blessings each.
OK-the Fathers Day part. Of all the things I have done in life, short of finding my sweet (at times bike-ballistic) wife, being a father is the most wondrous, wonderful, fulfilling, blessed experience I can imagine. In my quiet times, when I think about my son and daughters, I tear up from the Spirit letting me know that this father-hood thing is eternally important, and a great blessing. Don't I know it! And then I reflect on the fact that each of these "children" have probably been friends of mine for eons, and that their spirits are at least as mature and experienced as mine. I do feel as blessed and overwhelmed as that thought implies. Then, I think of my own parents and realize that the same eternal relationship exists with them. I knew and loved them and looked forward to life here with them. I have been blessed to know of the hope for eternal family blessings, and I can, because of the Savior's love for His children, help bring those blessings to fathers and mothers gone before.
Guess I need to get a bit busier with the work.
To my kids--thanks for the happy fathers days-not just once a year, but daily- I have had for 30+ years, and continue to have.

Ballistic Grandma=Balanced World?

So, we were riding on a pleasant June afternoon--mom commuting to work. No fossil fuel being burned--unless the Krebs cycle in 55 year-olds counts, sunny afternoon, bit of a tail wind, light traffic, life was good. Then, "RICK, WATCH OUT!!!" followed by a large white Toyota SUV making a right turn on my front wheel. I did not see the car until I looked up at hearing Vick's yelling at me, and it was RIGHT THERE. Turning right in front of me. Blocking my chosen path of travel. Well, my adrenaline shot up, I grabbed everything that even looked like brake levers, swerved, skidded, and thought "I've been on the pavement before, and it was not a good experience--a life-changing experience, but not all that fun--don't want to do that again." I did not hit the car--don't know how I missed it--must be watched over. Well, I do the sit up and yell, call on the SUV--always a good idea, and to my surprise, it pulls over. And, to my greater surprise, my little sweet grandma wife sprints--I can't catch her--to the SUV. A young lady gets out, she and Vick are discussing the situation-in loud voice-as I ride up. I hear the youngster say something about "yes, I did see you, but there was plenty of room". Maybe she intended for us to reach out, open the back door, and ride into the large vehicle, because there was NOT plenty of road room. Then I see my sweet, quiet wifey almost ride her Eddy into the front seat, grab the youngster by the sweatshirt and look like she is going to throttle her! Go Vick! I had to call her off, just to avoid a lawsuit, since the only lawyer in the family does something called "patent law". That is the shiny black law, I think. He does not practice pummeling law at all. So, I figure Vick saved my life from the young twit by timely yelling, and I saved the young twit's skin by calling my wife off. Maybe I shouldn't have. Perhaps the throttling of a young twit ignorant SUV driver by a sweet grandma would help restore some balance and sanity to a world quickly becoming less sane and balanced. At least it would have been amusing to watch. Next time I am just standing back. Maybe charge a small admission fee to passers-by.

"Youth is Wasted on the Young"

Got a call this afternoon from my riding buddy, Ken. He and I are both in our mid 50's--yes, I am now old enough that I have started lying about my kids' ages. He said that he was on his way, with another teacher from his school, to pick me up for a little ride. I headed out, pretty 75 degree day with light north wind, and we headed up the west side of the valley. The other guy is a 32 year old who looked in great shape-has been riding for several years. We chatted and rode--always seem to push a bit more riding with others (does this prove that I still produce a bit of testosterone?...)--kidding the youngster about being out with a couple of silverbacks. He commented-several times-that he hoped he would be able to "do what you guys are doing at your age". Well, about 6-7 miles into the ride, which had been all uphill and into the wind, Ken started pushing a bit, I jumped up and rode side-by-side (no wimping drafting for this old guy), and we heard some dying noises from somewhere behind us as the youngster struggled (a little) to keep up, but was dropped by the two of us "at our age". We were on the last up-hill mile and a half of our out portion, so we slowed at the top to let Junior catch us, made our turn and headed home. Now, I don't know that we are in any better shape than the youngster, but I do know we have a bit of "old-man toughness". A couple of observations:
*I have been easily dropped by a couple of 60-somethings on a tough ride.
*I know some other 30 somethings who would never let this happen to them--think I am related to at least one of them--maybe they are "old-tough" before their time. Naw--just in great shape. maybe a bit of both.
*My buddy, Ken, made a bit of a jump to try to push me. Didn't happen, won't happen as long as I can draw breath.

Well-pretty day, nice ride, good to drop a youngster on occasion. Life is good.

Homemaking vs Housekeeping

One of our lessons in church today was based on a talk given by Sister Beck in Oct conference--"Mothers Who Know". One point sister Beck made was that one of Mother's primary roles is to "nurture" the family--see the Proclamation to the World on the Family. She equated "nurturing" with "homemaking". There was some discussion of why homemaking is important, and some jokes made about not telling our wives that they are supposed to be world-class homemakers. But it hit me that "homemaking" is not at all the same as "housekeeping". "Homemaking" implies that the mother is responsible for making a "home". Home--the place we feel safe, warm, loved, cared for. I want to go Home when I leave this existence. I know women who have been wonderful housekeepers--spotless, everything where it belongs, organized on several levels--but not very effective homemakers. On the other hand, I have been in "homemakers" homes that could have maybe used a bit of sweeping or picking-up, but, it felt nice--in my heart--to be there.
I understand that Sister Beck's comments were criticized in some forums, but I think she is right. I know my sweet wife is a wonderful "homemaker", as I want to be at my home-with her. I think our kids, grandkids feel the same. I know I feel that way in our married kids homes, even when they need a bit of housekeeping. Hey, even fathers can help with that.

Walking Sticks, Tools and Toys

I had a friend pass away this week. A friend I never met, but felt like I knew him well. He offered me counsel and consoling. He helped me realize that "It will all turn out all right".
President Hinckley went on to continue his relationships and his work. I miss him already. I have been moved several times this week to reflect on how he has meant so much to me. In priesthood meeting today, the instructor asked us what we remember about President Hinckley. I did not speak up, but I immediately thought of his use of a cane in recent years. Now, as a trained professional, teaching people how to properly use canes is something I do daily.
I often thought, when I first saw President Hinckly with his cane, how he did not use it as it was intended to be used. In fact, he used it as a sword, a baton, as a tool to acknowledge his gratitue to those who flocked to see and hear him.
He used it more like my grandchildren than a grandfather. President Hinckley continued to be playful, even at 97. That is something many of us forget how to do much earlier than that. One more thing I have learned from our Prophet. Thank You and Happy Trails.