Once upon a time, Eugene Walter Buehner met Joanne Neeley. They were both from Salt Lake, and like most young single "kids", after graduation from high school, became involved in work, military, more schooling, missions, and lots of socializing. The Sacra Dulce choir brought them together. It was a group of kids in the area that loved to sing. Mom had friends who knew Dad's friends and likewise. It was perfect.
They hadn't known each other that long when Dad was called on a mission to New Zealand in 1948. (He had spent some time before that in the military.) But it was enough time for Mom to seriously consider what life might be like if she waited. She continued in school at BYU and working. She did her share of dating, but always had Walt Buehner in the back of her mind. Her mother encouraged her to not make any relationship decisions until Walt got home.
Dad, in the meantime was having a life altering experience as he served and met so many wonderful Maori people. The field was white and they were ready. He served with people who have remained firm friends throughout his life.
Towards the two year mark of his mission, his Dad was involved in surveying the countryside, there. The church's population was growing and there was a need for chapels, etc. Otto Buehner (his Dad) also had access to block making machinery. David O. McKay made arrangements to have Otto organize building needs in New Zealand, teaching the Maori people how to work the equipment, so they could provide for themselves. Dad just happened to be there and was a perfect fit, because he had run the machinery in the past and could help teach. So the call was made to extend his mission.
The weeks turned into months and Dad kept busy. He did happen upon a man who sold single diamonds. He would shake them out of bags and show them off to interested investors. When the timing was right, Dad was interested. He bought a diamond, and took the man's advice to have it temporarily mounted to a tie pin, to be worn back to the states, to avoid paying customs. An Elder, returning to Salt Lake wore the tie pin home and connected with Otto to pass it onto him. Otto knew a jeweler from Germany, downtown (Burndt Jewelers) and carried off a special assignment for the diamond.
A phone call was made to Mom one afternoon. It was Janice Buehner, Dad's sister. She and Mom had become good friends while Dad was away. She extended a dinner invitation to Mom for that night. Her work was right up the street from the block plant, so if she walked to the plant after work, Otto would take her to their home for dinner. She wasn't dressed in her best, but as usual, dinner was beautiful. They talked and visited and after the meal, a corsage box was handed to her across the table. Mom looked around to see if anyone else was given a corsage. She opened it to find a lei and a small ring box inside. An engagement ring.
One month shy of Dad's being out for 3 years (1951), he was released to come home. Mom was waiting. A wedding was planned and they were married within months. Sealed in the Salt Lake Temple by Matthew Cowley on September 13, 1951.
Dad tells the story of their reception day (the day after), when he again made a quick stop to Burndt Jewelers. He was picking up a cameo necklace he had made for Mom (from New Zealand). He pulled up and double parked in front of the store. He would be there for only a minute. Stepping out from the jeweler, a policeman was standing with one foot on Dad's bumper, writing out a ticket. Dad caught him and tried to explain. The policeman informed him that not only was he illegally parked, but his tags were expired. He ask Dad for his license and Dad realized he had run off without his wallet. About that time, Dad began to plead, trying to help the policeman understand that he had just been married yesterday and this was a quick stop before his reception that night and. . .
Before he could finish, the policeman clapped his book shut and walked off, without a blink of an eye.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Monday, September 24, 2012
Happy Anniversary!
Over 2 weeks ago, Mom took a spill. On the steps. In her white dress. On her ankle. In the temple. In a hurry. On Jeff's birthday.
Every year, going to the temple in honor of Jeff has been a priority. Mom and Dad decided to go togetherthis year, during the day, away from crowds in the session and on the road. . . Now she wears a cumbersome walking book that can only be taken off once a week. She has a borrowed wheel chair and a hand- me-down shiny walker that fits only through prearranged wide openings of furniture. She is mostly comfortable in Dad's 2 AM chair with a pillow under her knee. The days go by slowly, except for a Dr. appointment last Friday that, upon arrival, she learned that it wasn't until Monday. She also loves visitors. Only 6 more weeks.
Last week was Mom and Dad's anniversary on September 13 (1951). Things around their house had been so crazy that it wasn't until the next day that Dad remembered. That only made him feel worse, since he already blamed himself for the hurry at the temple.
Last Thursday I went out to fix Mom's hair.. That seems to brighten her day. She feels and looks years younger again. Dad made sandwiches and soup. Then he disappeared. In a few minutes, we heard him call Mom to take a picture. (I thought he wanted a picture of them to send to a friend.) She got up and carefully shuffled towards the table in the patio room. She stepped in, and just like Cinderella at the ball, the room seemed to change as if they were the only ones there. That's when she noticed the beautiful white frosted cake with mounds of pink frosting flowers. It read," For My Love of 61 Years, Happy Anniversary". It sat perfectly in the center of the table. She made a fuss. He had set up a photo op with 2 chairs placed against the glass shelf in the corner She convinced him to let her do her eye brows and put on some lipstick first. He patiently waited. When she came back, he led her to the setting of chairs. Then he handed me his camera. I was to be sure to get the inscription on the cake. We also took photos of them together, and since it was their anniversary, we got some some of their sweet hands together.
Then, using Mom's stainless cake knife (the same one used for cutting their wedding cake 61 years ago), we ate cake. It was perfect timing to hear their engagement story again. And I felt privileged to be the reason to have a "party".
(Dad had had the cake for a few days, not wanting to overshadow other birthday celebrations)
Every year, going to the temple in honor of Jeff has been a priority. Mom and Dad decided to go togetherthis year, during the day, away from crowds in the session and on the road. . . Now she wears a cumbersome walking book that can only be taken off once a week. She has a borrowed wheel chair and a hand- me-down shiny walker that fits only through prearranged wide openings of furniture. She is mostly comfortable in Dad's 2 AM chair with a pillow under her knee. The days go by slowly, except for a Dr. appointment last Friday that, upon arrival, she learned that it wasn't until Monday. She also loves visitors. Only 6 more weeks.
Last week was Mom and Dad's anniversary on September 13 (1951). Things around their house had been so crazy that it wasn't until the next day that Dad remembered. That only made him feel worse, since he already blamed himself for the hurry at the temple.
Last Thursday I went out to fix Mom's hair.. That seems to brighten her day. She feels and looks years younger again. Dad made sandwiches and soup. Then he disappeared. In a few minutes, we heard him call Mom to take a picture. (I thought he wanted a picture of them to send to a friend.) She got up and carefully shuffled towards the table in the patio room. She stepped in, and just like Cinderella at the ball, the room seemed to change as if they were the only ones there. That's when she noticed the beautiful white frosted cake with mounds of pink frosting flowers. It read," For My Love of 61 Years, Happy Anniversary". It sat perfectly in the center of the table. She made a fuss. He had set up a photo op with 2 chairs placed against the glass shelf in the corner She convinced him to let her do her eye brows and put on some lipstick first. He patiently waited. When she came back, he led her to the setting of chairs. Then he handed me his camera. I was to be sure to get the inscription on the cake. We also took photos of them together, and since it was their anniversary, we got some some of their sweet hands together.
Then, using Mom's stainless cake knife (the same one used for cutting their wedding cake 61 years ago), we ate cake. It was perfect timing to hear their engagement story again. And I felt privileged to be the reason to have a "party".
(Dad had had the cake for a few days, not wanting to overshadow other birthday celebrations)
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
September 8
September 8, 1954
birthday of
Jeff Buehner
Jeff Buehner
I think of him a lot -
especially when I eat oatmeal.
He hated oatmeal.
Monday, August 27, 2012
I Walk By Faith
Yesterday they took care of the other side of my neck at the skin Dr. "Taking care" is becoming a pain. I do only have one more known surgery to go, but the way the Dr. talked, I might be frequenting his office more. I know they want me in there every 6 months. I'm good with wellness checks. . . but I'm running out of good neck space.
I feel like I did when I learned all our children needed glasses. It seemed like the day before, they were perfect. Then, the school nurse tested their eyes the next day and poof! They were wearing glasses! Their perfect bodies needed adjusting.
Last night I was supposed to go to Enrichment. I was really looking forward to it. But I had come home from the Dr. with a huge scarey bandage. I didn't have the nerve to tramatize all those women. So, I cancelled out. We were supposed to bring shoes that represented our lives. I could have worn any shoes in my closet, because at this point in my empty nest life, I find myself walking by faith every day. "Lead thou my feet. I do not ask to see the distant scene. One step enough for me." I know that if I walk uprightly, my prayers will be heard for the needs (like glasses) of those I love, and even for the faith to know that a Dr.'s hands will be guided.
I feel like I did when I learned all our children needed glasses. It seemed like the day before, they were perfect. Then, the school nurse tested their eyes the next day and poof! They were wearing glasses! Their perfect bodies needed adjusting.
Last night I was supposed to go to Enrichment. I was really looking forward to it. But I had come home from the Dr. with a huge scarey bandage. I didn't have the nerve to tramatize all those women. So, I cancelled out. We were supposed to bring shoes that represented our lives. I could have worn any shoes in my closet, because at this point in my empty nest life, I find myself walking by faith every day. "Lead thou my feet. I do not ask to see the distant scene. One step enough for me." I know that if I walk uprightly, my prayers will be heard for the needs (like glasses) of those I love, and even for the faith to know that a Dr.'s hands will be guided.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
What I've Learned
It's been almost a week since my little neck surgery.
Some of the things I've learned:
1. The big padded gauze bandage tape was not what was stretching my skin. It was those tight little stitches. When I tried to hang a left to get out of the parking lot, I felt like a board! I couldn't look left without turning my whole upper body left. I honestly was still in the parking lot when I realized I should've just ask for a full face lift.
2. There is not a bandage in any Walgreen's that sufficiently covers my stitches. I've filled the trash with band aid papers from big "skin" colored (not!) patches that stuck to my poor hair, to craft project clusters of 10 regular band aids with the pads all lined up in the shape I needed, to a big bandage secured across the back by a regular bandage, to finally the success of a big bandage with translucent waterproof edges, except for the back edge, which I carefully cut off so my hair would be free of the sticky.
3. I also have been up on the latest scarf tying / draping techics.
4. Getting ready for church requires extra time. After 3 changes of clothes, knowing the key accessory would have to be the scarf, I finally was satisfied. Then, sitting in choir practice I couldn't feel my slip, so I stopped for a double check on the way to the chapel. I was right. . . slipless! My luck, the choir was singing. Great! I suddenly remembered my 80 year old, prim and proper friend, Dorothy, in our family ward. When asked to say the closing prayer at church, she wouldn't have declined, even though she had forgotten her slip. It wouldn't have been so bad except that it happened the last time she prayed, too!
5. I recommend scheduling this sort of thing in the winter months, when high collared clothing is perfect for camouflage. Summer in Arizona just doesn't work.
Or maybe Halloween . . .
Some of the things I've learned:
1. The big padded gauze bandage tape was not what was stretching my skin. It was those tight little stitches. When I tried to hang a left to get out of the parking lot, I felt like a board! I couldn't look left without turning my whole upper body left. I honestly was still in the parking lot when I realized I should've just ask for a full face lift.
2. There is not a bandage in any Walgreen's that sufficiently covers my stitches. I've filled the trash with band aid papers from big "skin" colored (not!) patches that stuck to my poor hair, to craft project clusters of 10 regular band aids with the pads all lined up in the shape I needed, to a big bandage secured across the back by a regular bandage, to finally the success of a big bandage with translucent waterproof edges, except for the back edge, which I carefully cut off so my hair would be free of the sticky.
3. I also have been up on the latest scarf tying / draping techics.
4. Getting ready for church requires extra time. After 3 changes of clothes, knowing the key accessory would have to be the scarf, I finally was satisfied. Then, sitting in choir practice I couldn't feel my slip, so I stopped for a double check on the way to the chapel. I was right. . . slipless! My luck, the choir was singing. Great! I suddenly remembered my 80 year old, prim and proper friend, Dorothy, in our family ward. When asked to say the closing prayer at church, she wouldn't have declined, even though she had forgotten her slip. It wouldn't have been so bad except that it happened the last time she prayed, too!
5. I recommend scheduling this sort of thing in the winter months, when high collared clothing is perfect for camouflage. Summer in Arizona just doesn't work.
Or maybe Halloween . . .
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Today Was a Day
Today was a day I was not looking forward to. It was the Skin Dr. appointment day that has been on the calendar for a couple of months.
I had had two little places on my neck looked at in June, and sure enough, I was a candidate for surgery (outpatient, thankfully). After 2 appointments, three biopsies were taken (one of the irritations I was completely unaware of). Sunscreen is the keyword, here. I experienced a couple of bad burns in my youth; enough to know that my only pale skinned remedy for life, would be to steer clear of the sun for too long.
As I sat in the empty waiting room for them to call me today, I quickly bowed my head, praying that things would go fine. It made me recall other waiting rooms throughout my life that I had closed my eyes and silently pleaded in prayer for things to go fine. It's funny, how many times and places those kind of prayers occur, and how meaningful they are.
They called me back and proceeded to make small talk, relieving some of my anxiety. But, I did have a question or two. Since they would be working on my neck, I wanted to make sure the Dr. knew how delicate some of those veins are (in case he forgot). I had been practicing at home and had come up with some crafty pinches to hold the skin away from my "life". I was prepared to show him. When he described his own pinching the skin away, I knew we'd be OK. He assured me that he had never had problems before and let me know it was his goal to never have those problems in the future. I felt better knowing we were both on the same page about that.
He also told me the surgery today would be on the mystery spot I hadn't detected, because it was the biggest (sheeeesh), and if I could get through this one, the other 2 would be a breeze.
It took him 2 tries before he was done. I went from a quarter size scar the first try, to a half dollar size. Then it was stitch up time. More numbing, etc. He would have made a great seamstress, I think, because when I ask how many stitches, he told me - 25. He held out his hand when we were through, for a friendly handshake. I shook it with a sigh of relief. The nurse continued to patch me up. She held up her hand in a sign language "C" with the fingers 4 inches apart to show me the size of the scar. I'll be fine. It's over. I took my prescriptions and walked to the checkout window. I scheduled the next surgery in two weeks. I hustled to the car in the blazing sun and bowed my head gratefully again.
Only 2 more appointments to go.
Monday, August 6, 2012
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