obituary

my last assignment in my lifespan development class was to write our own obituary. i'm not sure if this assignment pertained to nursing but it had to be done nonetheless.
some of us had trouble with this assignment but death is going to be a large part of my job and personally i have never had trouble talking about it. i wrote about what i had accomplished in my life: traveling adventures, work opportunities, a future family, a loving and lasting marriage, friends and family with whom i would spend my time with and lastly, the effect i left on people.
since i've written my obituary i have been thinking about it ever since.
what affected me the most is a fear of being forgotten. im not the kind of person who wants to leave a legacy behind. i don't need to make a name for myself or be known throughout the world etc. i think about it on a more personal level. i wonder about the people i am around daily, i think about who i am affecting now. i like to think in little ways i influence people. i think about how i can portray goodness and joy and naturally, without words, show all i believe in. it's not about being forgotten, it's about being memorable.

the book of mormon

the other day i heard a knock on my door . . . i thought to myself yeah! a visitor! to my surprise i met 2 boys on their mission. i always felt bad because i am sure they get enough slack going door to door. and im sure sometimes it hurts, personally.

they vocalized a summary of their beliefs and asked me a couple questions and i answered honestly. here is the kicker: they asked if they could come back, and i said ok. i figured, they would just keep trying and if i were home, id be there and if not, i would catch them later; however, we scheduled a meeting.

they came back two days later. i don't mind talking, discussing beliefs. i am thoroughly interested and frankly, they always get such bad criticism i wanted to form my own opinion. maybe i will call this an "identity moratorium." im exploring . . . no commitments. im not exploring my options for identity sake . . . im exploring my options to form my opinions. i think it is perfectly legitimate.

they were very nice and they were respectful. i had questions, and they answered honestly to all of them (they even said i asked good questions). they've made a commitment in their lives i respect and they deserve to share that. i felt comfortable expressing my own thoughts and i also felt assured they were not there to convert me. i think that is why i agreed to talk with them, i knew it wasn't about conversion, it was an opportunity for them to talk, to have a voice, to be a mode of expression.

i'm a "yes" girl. i say ok and yes to a lot of things. is it good or bad? i don't know. but saying yes has giving me life experiences, given me adventure, given me opportunities, given me joy, given me sadness, given me freedom, and given me conversations that expand my horizons. i call that life. "and God said 'it is good'" and i do believe him.

the end of an era

it's one thing to say you love your parents . . . it's another to say your proud. i must admit, willingly, i am proud of my dad. today is the day his world will cease to revolve around his restaurant. today is the day he is closing the doors and no longer "pounding schnitzel" for those of us eagerly waiting to eat. any guest walks in that place and ponders what to get. should i get schlipkrapfen? always!!!!! should i get mama stiegler, with the incredible, edible vegetable root sauce? well, since it comes with spatzle . . . always!!!!! should i get extra cream spinach? always!!!! should i get tartar? oh man . . . always!!!!!! (that recipe was in the paper by the way . . . one word: special). onto desserts! should i get apfel strudel? with rum sauce? a la mode? always!!!! should i get reisauflauf? what is that? not sure?? can't pronounce it? get it . . . always!!!

blood, sweat, and tears went into that place day in and day out for almost 27 years. it is the end of an era people! and it's brutal for me to think it won't be there.

i used to visit my dad as a kid and to spend time with him i would go to "the restaurant" and help him cook. my main duty: an entire 5 gallon bucket full of apples and me, myself, as a 10, 12, 15 year old had to core and slice them all. i was pretty slow . . . three hours later, my dad would take over and finish with great ease, and quickness, 10 entire loaves of apple strudel. he is my favorite chef and i got to admire his every move, everyday at work with him as a kid.

here's to you papa. please know i am not the only one who absolutely loves and adores your restaurant. it is a very special place for many. and thank you for the reassurance you will still cook for me . . . i am holding you to that promise.