Historic Zionista Gathering in Provo

A small and brief but happy convocation of several Zion list members.  Bob and Rusty were in town for General Conference, come down from the north country in Washington.  Family from California showed up at the door at the Cobabe home the night before, and were included in the gathering at Tucanos Brazillian Barbeque.  Truly heavenly food and Celestial-class company.  A good time was had by all.

 The places laid in anticipation...

 Bob and Trevor prepare to dig in

 Rusty is put in charge of the handy signalling device that summons the server to our table to replenish our plates

 Bob enjoys the mango ice cream concoction while the others smile

Bob did generously offer to share a taste, and Rusty took him up on it, but two of the others in the group finally broke down and ordered their own

 

Jim Cobabe, Mary Cobabe, Rusty Taylor

David Norris and friend Ann, and Trevor Holyoak, our ever-gracious host

Fire Department Awards: Deja Vu

Glory Theme - James Horner

The Indianola Volunteer Fire Department honored me Saturday with a surprise presentation and naming ceremony christening tender 18 "Big Jim". I was also awarded a wall plaque on the occasion by Chief Kent Higgins.

Members of the Sanpete County Station 18 Indianola Volunteer Fire Department attended the presentation and demonstrated operations of newly refitted "Big Jim" with the monitor, and some spectacular displays of water output capacity from tender 18 pumps.

One thing seems quite obvious to me, and I hope I speak as well for all who are volunteering efforts of thier time and talents at station 18. This award is a little recognition all our good efforts and teamwork. I certainly would have been lonely driving that big 'ol truck around by myself all the time, but fortunately, there was never any lack of willing partners and "good buddies. Tihough we sometimes make jokes about it, freindship and brrotherhood mean the world to me, fighting fire, or working in the station on yet another boring exercise. We had a chance to learn about a bit more than "put the wet on the red"



One of the the interesting and significant things about my involvement in the department is that it has been a family tradition for generations since Cobabes lived in this county to volunteer for service to the community. Fredreich Wilhelm Cobabe, a German immigrant and my great-great grandfather, was also a vounteer fireman in his day, and served in the Ogden City Volunteer Fire Department for many years, both as firefighter, and as the secretary of that organization, and as a member of the band the fire department manned and performed with for many years, primarily to raise funds for charity causes.

above: Five generations of firefighting in Utah, represented with Jim's grandchildren Katelynn and Christopher aboard the cabin of Tender 18 "Big Jim" as Graciella demonstrates the enineersn role , and Jim's son Jimmy handles the operators position.

above: Shirley Macintosh looks on as IVFD volnteer firefighter Robert Beale demonstrates operation of monitor gun on newly refurbished and rechristened tender 18 "Big Jim".

I Delight in my Friends

Friends are like the stars. One constant in the ever-changing sky.

I had a close encounter meeting last week with a friend who typifies the constellations in my bright universe. She made a special accommodation in her busy schedule just to meet with me, I cannot explain why, but it was a dinner meeting at a Chinese restaurant. My sister and her family and another good friend came along, and the stars blazed bright. I just basked in the glow and warmth of good will and conversation that flowed like warm sunshine between us.

If every meeting with a dear close acquaintance that I have never met before could only go so well, I would certainly call for them more often, on a regular basis.

In fact, I confess, I make friends under normal circumstances with great deliberation and care, even some stubbornness and reluctance. It is generally a process that occupies many years, if not some decades. In my judgement, I am an easy person to get to know casually, but do not normally form friendship without a long and careful trial. I cannot explain -- perhaps I have been hurt too many times. Because friendship also opens serious vulnerabilities that can be exploited easily and thoughtlessly by others. Much to my discomfort and personal pain -- so I have discovered.

I have also discovered a universe of bright stars in the heavens, my good friends. I count them as such, ans they will always be there, forever shining bright in the darkness, though we may never meet again in this life. Indeed, I expect such to be the case with most of them. We had our moment of meeting, to share time and break bread. Now we get on with life, and the sweet and sacred memory of our friends sometimes shines out of the light and warmth, and the love we share, no matter how many miles or how much time may separate us.

Thank you forever, my friends!

Miracles VI: Friends, Doctors, and Sharks

Rehab in Provo was fairly routine. It is the exceptional things that are worth mentioning.

First is that I came there with a renewed sense of purpose. I met repeatedly with my son Robert and his wife Stacy. I was obsessed, perhaps, with a sense of urgency that my life had been spared for a purpose. A short mission, so to speak, to serve so cause for good. I was not aware of the mission yet, Robert and I discussed some possible actions we might take toward directing the lives of his brothers, because I expressed some remorse as an absent father of so many years that I had failed my family and not trained my sons well. Anyway, we discussed many subjects with tentative feelers along those lines.

I also met my friend Michael Golden, several times. In fact, he came with me the one Sunday to the abbreviated Sacrament meeting they held in the little chapel at the hospital. It was a special, spiritual moment for me, and kind of ministering of a special friend that I will try to always remember in my heart. I can never repay Michael for his kindness, but I hope to try to do things half as thoughtful for others, and am hoping to try to instil in my own sons such a sense of selfless charity and friendship. I hope the seed is already there, and it is not too late for them. I hope...

Another thing that happened while I was in the Provo Rehab was that I had a series of "shark attacks" under clinical observation. This is important because the incident was documented by trained medical observers. First at Mountainview, then in the Provo Rehab ward, and finally at the U Neurology Unit, doctors and nurses have seen these attacks, and know that I am not making up the stories. In fact, one man of the psychiatric practice at the U hospital witnessed a "shark attack" while there was quite a crowd of onlookers. I was somewhat absent myself for most of the incident, since they tend to affect me that way, but my dad told me later in rather a bemused demeanor that the doctor seemed rather horrified by the incident. I hope he was not permanently traumatized. When we find some understanding, I want to share it with him personally, just to offer my personal reassurance.

Again, this clinical observation is notable because my doctors stand outside the room and whisper and shake their heads, "somatoform", "deeply psychotic!", "borderline shizofrenic behavior!", and other two- dollar words from the DSM, I've heard them all before. But the blood pressures continue to go higher than ever, and the nurses were alarmed to the point that they were going to call a "code blue", because they had seen nothing like this before, and my respirations were down to almost nil, and blood pressure levels were so too high to be even believed. Later, I heard the nurse describing the incident to the next on duty, in the handing-off briefing. He used the term "freaky!" emphatic and numerous times. I say this not to his discredit, because I think he responded well to the incident. We have found subsequently that the "shark attacks", although alarming, do not seem to produce any serious life-threatening effects beyond the extreme pain. Best to just stand back, and maybe don't watch, if that is your preference, and wait until it passes.

My point is, these attacks are very real, to me. They are happening to me. I don't give a damn if the doctors call the "psychotic complexes" or "somatoform" or "silly putty"! I want to know reasons and explanation this is happening to me, because IT IS! It has happened before, and I know it will happen again! It cannot just go away for no reason. The first attack was obviously associated with the first stroke incident in July. They started then. Why? Why are they continuing? I want to know, even more than reasons for how to stop them from happening, but UNDERSTANDING what is happening to me!   If I had better understanding, even if I could not stop or control these things, at least I could know WHY they are happening to me. As it is, one of the best explanations seems to be to simply shrug your shoulders and turn away and mutter, "he's obviously mad as a hatter!", and dismiss the whole affair.

That might resolve the issue just fine for a doctor who gets to move on to the next disease. But I live inside myself.

I remember Dr. Brin, standing in the circle of doctors in neurology rounds, at the foot of my bed one day, pronouncing, "That's NOT OKAY! -- That's NOT OKAY!" And true to her words, she worked until she found something that was NOT okay. I owe her such a debt of gratitude for that! Finally, a doctor who lived up to the IDEAL of HEALING!

But I get ahead of myself..

I went home from Provo Rehab fully prepared to start over again from the July point.

Little did I know what was in the works, and would so shortly come to pass. The biggest series of miracles in all...

Next instalment:  Interacte

Visiting with Friends

John Redelfs and his sweet wife Esperanza joined my parents and I for dinner this week while the Redelfs were in town for General Conference. It was a surprise to me that they came to visit, and a memorable event.

It is truly gratifying to have such fine friends, and to be known by such good people. Thank you, John and Esperanza.