Reed Lockhoof

It is with much sadness that we have learned of the death of our friend and former classmate Reed Lockhoof. The wonderful obituary that follows is taken from the
Austin American-Statesman where you can go to View/Sign Guest Book .

W. Reed Lockhoof
W. Reed Lockhoof W. Reed Lockhoof, born October 3, 1945, passed away suddenly Saturday, September 27, 2008. He loved life and all it had to offer. His philosophy of life was based on the simple golden rule: "treat others as you would like to be treated" and put your family above and before all else. That will make you a winner in God's eyes. Reed was the absolute best friend of and for his wife, Nancy, and son, Flip. He was best man at his son's wedding and best 'Reed' for his grandchildren. We will intensely miss him until we reunite again. Only time, friends and God can help them survive the pain. Reed was an avid golfer, and in his younger, healthier days, there was never a day too cold or too hot, too windy or too still for golf. Golf and its required tenacity were his mistresses... and often those golfing days were spent with family, friends, and/or associates. Reed and his son became partners and played as golf partners in over a 150 golf tournaments throughout the state. Nancy would generally go along, walk every step of the way and have her walk with nature and communion with God along with husband, Reed and son, Flip. Reed's love for the law was second only to his love for golf and his family. Reed and Nancy shared endless love for each other and their family. His devotion and dedication to his wife, son and daughter-in-law, and grandchildren made him the most wonderful and caring husband, father and grandfather that this world has known. All who knew Reed will remember him for this... and his hearty laughter. Reed was preceded in death by his parents Walter and Darlein Lockhoof of Childress, TX. He is survived by one son, Filip Reed Lockhoof; daughter-in-law, Michelle Felger Lockhoof and granddaughter, Taylor Lockhoof; and grandson, Shane Lockhoof. Reed was an only child; his mother was an only child, and her mother was an only child. Although Nancy has already lost her mother and father, older brother and older sister, her one remaining sister, Diane Harris, from Scottsdale, brother Spencer and his wife, Sharon Ford from Hamlin, TX, Milton and Jodi Reed from Lubbock, along with aunts and uncles are helping her and Flip survive the immediate pain. Reed graduated from Childress High, Childress, TX. He received his BS from the University of North Texas and his J.D. from Texas Tech University. As an attorney he was always on the side of the law, from the District Attorney's office to the Attorney General's office. Being one of the best trial lawyers in the state, the courtroom became his friend, and the judge and jury became his audience. Flip, his only son, once heard his mother say that Reed is the most ethical lawyer she has ever known. Reed's life was cut short by his chronic asthma, COPD, and disabling arthritis. Memorial services will be held at Shepherd of the Hills Lutheran Church, 3525 Bee Cave Rd., Thursday, October 2, at 1:30 p.m. with family visitation and reception following the services. In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to Shepherd of the Hills Lutheran Church, Lung Association, 'First Tee of Greater Austin' or charity of your choice. "Treating others as you want to be treated" was truly his golden rule.


Published in the Austin American-Statesman on 09/30/2008

Autumn Equinox ... the Woman in the Moon ... and Joss the Morkie....

Mid-Autumn (Moon) Festival celebrations in Victoria Park, Hong Kong, China

Autumn has officially arrived, courtesy of the yearly equinox (twindred phenomenon to the vernal equinox of Spring). I speak of course of the actual season, not of the figurative "autumn" of our lives, discussed recently on the blog, which came to visit all of us a while ago, I believe. Of course, as far as I am concerned, Fall really begins the day after Labor Day ... always has ... various calendars and lunar/solar calculations notwithstanding.

Just preceding the 'nox we enjoyed a wonderful heraldic spell of Fall weather ... soft, cool mornings, pleasant afternoons suffused with a sweet, golden light, the full Harvest Moon brilliant and pregnant with promise in a clear sky on September 15, foreshadowing the bright Hunter's Moon on October 14 and the Beaver Moon (!) of November 13, before the advent of Winter and the Cold Moon which will rise in snow-white splendor on December 12.

Perhaps it is my retro-pagan nature (and being occasionally under the influence of Guinevere the Druid Goddess, about whom more later) but the Fall moons have always been the most beautiful to me ... ascending like round orange flame, then paling to polished translucent alabaster as they climb, seemingly close enough to reach out and touch, so clear and distinct, haunting and enchanting.

The philosopher Matsuo Basho wrote of

the moon so pure
that a wandering monk
carries it across the sand

BTW ... I have always seen a "Woman in the Moon" rather than a man ... a delicate profile of a lady, as if carved on yellow onyx or tangerine soapstone. Oh, I can tilt my head and look at the moon another way and see the "Man" of legend, but the first image I see is that of a woman. Interestingly, the idea of a "Woman in the Moon" is not particularly common to European cultures, but is found primarily in the lore of Asia, Polynesia and Native Americans.

The Esquimaux tell the tale of a great magician who ascended to the heavens and became the sun, taking with him his beautiful lady. However, the lady eventually angered the magician sun (probably deemed by him as being too "uppity"), who then burned one side of her face with his fire to punish her, leaving her disfigured. The lady, not without powers of her own, fled and became the moon. The sun has been in pursuit of her ever since ... but even though he sometimes comes near, he will never overtake her. When the moon is new, the burnt side of her face is toward the Earth; when the moon is full, the reverse is true.

The Chinese celebrate Chang'e, the Goddess of the Palace of the Moon, their counterpart to the Western notion of the Man in the Moon. Although there are so many variations to the story that it can become overwhelming, briefly: Chang'e was the beautiful wife of Houyi, a loyal servant of the Emperor who, for services rendered, was given a pill that would make him immortal. Unfortunately, before he could take the pill, Chang'e found it and took it, and then floated weightlessly up to the sky, where she landed on the moon, the home of the Jade Rabbit, who became her companion.

It is said that Houyi grieved so for his lost wife that the Jade Emperor in Heaven granted him the boon of allowing him to ascend to become the sun, and so Chang'e and Houyi became the visible symbols of the concept of yin-yang (陰陽), a unity of opposites according to the Taiji ... two opposing but complementary aspects in diametric equilibrium. Yin-yang is a philosophy of duality. (As an example, winter and summer would represent the yin-yang of the year. It is interesting to note that in yin-yang metaphysical thought, the ideas of "good" and "evil" do not apply ... darkness is neither good nor bad ... it is "good" if one is trying to sleep, but "bad" if one wants to read.)

There is also an old folk legend that the Woman in the Moon is Mary Magdalene and the "spots" around her are her tears. But I digress....

Saturday I went to the Farmers' Market here after a lovely al fresco breakfast, a favorite thing to do on weekends, particularly in the cooler weather of Fall, and just enjoyed walking among the stalls with their wonderful fresh produce. Of course there was a plethora of colorful seasonal gourds including huge pumpkins, and fabulous butternut and other squash, profuse crowns of broccoli, fat juicy peaches ... a cascade of colors in variegated shades of green and yellow and gold and magenta and orange. I happily loaded up the car with the bounty, including wonderful organic locally raised chickens and grass-fed beef (I prefer to be a locavore whenever possible) and then came home and prepared a ragout ... the first of the substantial fall and winter soups that Yahn and I so love. I feel a pot of chili comin' on soon ... and a great beef brisket, slow cooked and falling apart when touched by the fork, perhaps for the Cowboys' game next weekend with Washington (mega-mega rivals ... boo 'Skins!).

And how about the 'boys' first ever victory yesterday at Lambeau Field against the Packers??? Yee-haaa!!! I guess you can take the girl out of Dallas ... and sometimes put her back ... but the Cowboys go on and on ... with a small tear in memory of the great Tom Landry.... Fall of course denotes the return of football (fu'ball, as I called it in an old As You Like It column waaaaaay back in the CHS day) ... Friday Night Lights, and Saturday afternoon and night college games, and all the Pro games, creatively scheduled whenever the networks think they might make a buck.... But again I digress....

Although Yahn had breakfast with me, we felt the trek to Farmers' Market might be too much for him, so I was accompanied by our new little baby ... Joss the Morkie, so-called because he is a Maltese-Yorkshire mix. Joss (Chinese for "luck") came to us through our good friend Chris Watts at Petropolitan, who sent us pictures and told us the little guy was in need of rescuing. Even though we were still grieving our baby Noah, we were so taken by the pictures that we adopted Joss right away ... and he is already enriching our lives with his sweet nature and unstinting love. Noah would approve, and he and Joss would have been great friends, I feel sure. Joss has his own little bed and "blankie" ... but he is particularly fond of snuggling up to Yahn when Yahn is sleeping. I sense a great relationship here ... like the one I was fortunate enough to have with Noah....

Joss the Morkie

Although Nicki and I both embrace Autumn as our favorite time of the year, it has often been seen by some as being a time of melancholy. Yes, there can be sadness in the season ... as the fiery funereal pyre of colors heralds the waning of the light, the seasonal death of green fresh leaves and hothouse romances. But I've always been fond of Albert Camus' observation: "Autumn is a second spring, when every leaf's a flower." And Percy Bysshe Shelley was definitely onto something when he wrote:

There is a harmony
In autumn, and a lustre in its sky
Which through the summer is not heard or seen,
As if it could not be, as if it had not been!

And I believe author Hal Borland caught the feel, and feeling, of autumn when he penned:

Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color and a time of maturity, but it is also breadth, and depth, and distance. What man can stand with autumn on a hilltop and fail to see the span of his world and the meaning of the rolling hills that reach to the far horizon?



Personification of Autumn, Currier & Ives Lithograph (1871)

Between engagements, Guinevere the Druid Goddess sent a note in fire-writing (tricky to open), in response to my wishes to her for a glorious equinox and my inquiry regarding the egg-balancing tradition:

Just poofed back in and found your message....

Ah yes ... the equinox ... the day the sun enters the Goddess' own personal astrological sign of Libra ... the embodiment of balancing.... A little busy, trying to apparate to all those cairns in the hills at Loughcrew ... with a poof poof here, and a poof poof there ... here a poof ... there a poof ... everywhere a poof poof. Poofed is more like it after a few of those....

Burning the ceremonial Wicker Man ... and on that subject, let me tell you that Burning Man festival in Nevada is a hoot and a half.... Then gotta give a nod to the Wiccans and Mabon ... and a shout-out or two at Higan-e in Japan ... then the celebration of the Wine Moon (I think you call it the Harvest Moon), when the grapes are harvested and pressed for wine (hic! double hic!) ....

But as for balancing those eggs on end, who can find the time ... or the stamina ... well, maybe sister Triple Goddess Brigid while she's waiting for Bres to sober (er, wake) up. After taking part in all the revelry, the ceremonial toasts and quaffs, obeisances to Cardinal Puff, it's all I can manage just to balance a bunch of really festive celebrants dancing and cavorting within the sacred circle. Now that takes goddessly talent!!!! And you want balanced eggs??? Sheeesh!!!

Still, we must observe the traditions ... so many traditions ... so little time....

Poo ... (hic! hic!) ... Poof!!!!

A joyous first day (and all the rest) of Fall to all....

)O(

Long Year's Journey to Reunion ... Regrets (I've Had a Few) ... and 千里之行，始于足下 ...

Prom memories (from the movie Carrie, reproduced here citing "fair use" provisions of U.S. copyright law)

... or as my old friend Laozi said, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step (to borrow a title which I liked from the original Las Vegas reunion blog). Actually, a more correct translation from the original Chinese would be "The journey of a thousand miles begins beneath one's feet." Unfortunately, my Chinese is not sufficient to add (in brush-stroked characters) that any journey actually begins with the desire to embark upon it.... What comes after that goes under the heading of "means to end"....

[Sidebar: There are some who credit the "journey of a thousand miles" quote to Laozi's contemporary Confucius; however, my research seems to point indeed toward Laozi, a/k/a Lao Tzu, the "Old Master" instrumental in the establishment of, and revered by, the Taoist religion. But I digress....]

In two weeks a number (literally) of the Class of 1963 will gather again in Childress for its 45th reunion. At last headcount, there were approximately 20-25 of our classmates (our actual classmates ... not counting spouses and/or significant others who will accompany them) who indicated that either they will be there or might be there ... a little exercise in legal terminology illustrating (if you think about it) why it is so important to be cognizant of (and precise in) the meanings of the words you use ... and in your interpretation of words directed to or concerning you. Interestingly, the number of those who say they will or may attend is about the same as the number of those who were committed (to one degree or another) to attending the reunion if it had been held in Las Vegas, as it was originally conceived.

Nicki and I have been disappointed that even though we moved the reunion to Childress, partially in hopes that it would result in a larger turnout, the number remains essentially unchanged. There are some names common to both sign-up lists ... although some few have indicated that while they would attend a reunion in either Las Vegas or Childress, they would not travel to the other place for whatever reason. Some have said that the weekend of October 17-19 (as originally planned) would have been fine ... but there is some problem with the weekend of October 3-5 (designated by the Childress All-School Reunion Committee). Nicki and I have talked on more than one occasion about how little response we have had from those who actually live in Childress, or within a few miles thereof. So, truly immutable or unforeseen circumstances notwithstanding (and there are always some) ... the bottom line is that for the most part, those who want to be there will have found a way to manage it ... and those who don't, won't.



Laozi leaves China on his water buffalo.

Most of those who've said they are not coming have indicated some other pressing engagement. Some are apparently afraid they may be confronted with an idea or ideology with which they don't agree. And some have also said that they don't want to come because they don't much care to revisit those high school days when we all were so young, and insecure, and needy and/or desirous of approval and acceptance (even some of those we considered the popular cool people who comprised the top of the social food chain) ... or who feel they may be ignored and left to sit by themselves at a table in K-Bob's or the Elks Club. It is worth noting a bit of wisdom expressed by Bertrand Russell, who sagaciously wrote: Collective fear stimulates herd instinct, and tends to produce ferocity toward those who are not regarded as members of the herd. Sad to think that some still feel that fear 45 years later on the long road out of Childress (with a nod to the Eagles).

I've written previously on the blog that not all my memories from high school are happy ones. And yet, over the nearly half-century since May 1963, as I've learned and grown and pondered and embraced my still-evolving spiritual beliefs, learned to listen to the vibrations and the resonances, I have found great benefit (and balm) in being able to put the bad things into perspective ... to acknowledge the immaturity and the sometimes mindless, contagious wolf-pack cruelty common to those adolescent years ... to come to grips with the fact that some of my own actions were causal catalysts ... to understand the unthinking, uncaring and occasionally vicious attitudes of some, and to apprehend that some went along not because of meanness or indifference on their parts, but because they themselves were afraid to go against the herd ... to recognize and regret those instances when I was less than charitable to another wandering, groping soul ... and to forgive not only those people who hurt me, through acts of commission or omission, but also to forgive myself for all the things I did wrong.

I have learned that sometimes bad things happen to us for necessary reasons ... that even if the events are painful, they are meant to (and do, if we are wise) teach us life lessons that we must learn before we can successfully traverse the terra incognita between the lives ... that we must transcend before we can ascend. Understanding and forgiveness are among the most important of life's lessons, I believe ... and I don't think one can achieve forgiveness (of oneself or of others) until one has become a frequent flier (with reward miles!) in the realms of understanding and regret and empathy.

Since I got over myself ... stopped nursing old hurts both real and imaginary, or sometimes just inflated by the hot air of adolescent angst ... refused the mantle of the victim ... started contemplating and comprehending that some of those who hurt me may have done so because they in fact were in mortal pain from their own demons ... I have found a "new" world of fond memories ... memories to be cherished and cultivated ... memories to drive away the dark nights and the dark hours and the dark thoughts and strip the curtains from the metaphoric windows of the mind to allow the light to nourish and quicken the dormant soil and quiescent flowers of my soul.

On occasion I have been tempted to regret that I did not reach this "enlightenment" sooner, that I let so much time elapse ... but then I know, with a complete, deep certainty ... that I learned (and am still learning) this life's lessons when I was supposed to ... that subject to my own choices and the choices of others, things happened as they were supposed to happen, as they had to happen ... that I was incapable of absorbing the lessons before I did and could not have learned many of them without the accompanying pain ... and that rather than regret not learning sooner, I should rejoice that I learned at all ... that it was not too late when knowledge came, too far along in this existence to become applicable. I have been blessed by that knowledge ... and by the new "old" friends I have found, and the old "old" friends I have rediscovered ... and I still anticipate reunion with those with whom I may yet "reconnect".


A Taijitu, the main symbol of the Taoist spirituality.

I don't know whether you were the teacher's pet or the class goat ... the homecoming queen or the prom king ... maybe one of those like Janis Ian, who "learned the truth" At Seventeen and "knew the pain of Valentines that never came" ... wore a letter sweater (your own or one bestowed by your boyfriend for affection and/or services rendered) or envied those who did ... made good grades or barely squeaked by (perhaps because they didn't know much about dyslexia and other learning disabilities then) ... were "good" or "bad" (as defined by the times) or more likely "confused" and just desperate to fit in ... a "nice" guy or a James Dean wannabe. High school marked a significant rite of passage in all our lives ... and we each are deserving (and in need sometimes) of a congratulatory and/or accepting hug, an elevation of spirit generated by a bright welcoming smile, the quiet benediction inherent in the knowledge that we successfully ran that gauntlet of taunts and insults and uncertainty ... and we survived to tell the tale! We survived ... mostly better, and wiser I think (I fervently hope) for the experience.

We're not in high school any more, people. We've all traveled different life paths, with diverse experiences, to become the people we are today. While it is likely that most of us have retained some of the "core" essentials of those adolescents we were at CHS, I firmly believe that our life lessons have honed and burnished our present personalities, our souls if you will, like a skilled diamond cutter ... although unfortunately, in a few instances, it must be acknowledged that the master jeweler apparently struck the stone poorly and left it fractured, shattered ... bereft of light and knowledge and radiant enlightenment. In fairness to the master jeweler, it should also be noted that some stones themselves may have harbored deep, hidden flaws rendering them incapable of being polished or refined. Those unfortunates, I fear, will have many more journeys, much longer than a thousand miles...

A reunion can be and should be a celebration of all our life journeys and the sometimes quite divergent roads that we chose ... as well as a joyous commemoration and remembrance of birthday parties and Birthday Clubs and Friday Night Lights and Saturday nights dragging the highway, or date nights at the old Palace Theater ... a shared commonality of feeling and circumstance, and a sharing of all the singularly unique experiences which we bring to reconnection ... an ephemeral eulogy to our former selves and times, and an encomium and festive appreciation for all we have lived through, and learned through, to reach the caravanserai where we choose to pause temporarily to rest and refresh for our further travels.




The Three Pure Ones

A reunion is not a place to take offense over small, petty, long-ago or even contemporary disagreements, or perceived (possibly erroneously perceived) slights ... or to belligerently insist that everyone march to the beat of one particular drummer (or another). If we have grown and are wise, we will have learned that everyone does not have to look like us, or think like us, or believe like us, or act like us ... that we all traverse this world, this life, all our many lives, as we should, as we are supposed to, so that we may all reach the state of understanding and grace required to move on to our next existence ... and that those who are dogmatic, and dictatorial and seek to bend others to their will and mindset ... even these will eventually arrive at satori ... but it just may take a while.... (grin) And in the meantime, the rest of us can practice understanding, empathy, acceptance, sympathy and certainly pity for the difficult journeys these people will have ... because they've got a lot of livin' (and lives!) to do.... (Cheshire grin)

All of that having been said ... and here I am reminded of the Rolling Stones singing "You can't always get what you want" ... it is with regret that I must write that I will not be able to attend the reunion in Childress. Sometimes, despite the best laid plans and great desire, the universe has other things in store for us. In my case, Yahn's doctor has told him that because of some health problems he has had recently, she doesn't believe he should make the trip ... and I cannot, should not and will not leave him home alone. I had been looking forward to seeing many of you ... but I must remember that I have been blessed to come together with many of you over the past year (and years), and that with joss (luck), there will be more such opportunities in the future.

I have tried my best to think of some reasonable scenario which would allow me to get away for a couple of days ... and Yahn himself has encouraged me to attend the reunion ... but in the end, it comes down to the fact that he does not need to be left alone right now ... and so my decision is made, and clear. Of course there is disappointment ... but also the certainty that I am doing what I should be doing at this time, in this season.

So, on Friday evening, October 3, I will lift a glass in salute to the CHS Class of 1963 ... to all of those who attend the reunion, and all who don't, and all who are no longer able to attend ... and I will smile at the good memories. And that slight disturbance in the air around you will be my whispered wishes to all of you that you may have the very best of everything in this "autumn" of our lives, and in the future ... as I recall Mark Twain's words that "Death is the starlit strip between the companionship of yesterday and the reunion of tomorrow." L'chaim!

)O(

Managing the Seasons of Life

We tend to measure our lives by time. We never have enough of it. We often run out of it. Sometimes we even feel that we have too much of it, and yet we always want more of it. We look for ways to manage our time and all too often we waste an awful lot of it. We strive to make the most of it; we even talk about it. We have even managed to compartmentalize time by fitting it in to minutes, hours, days, months, years, and even seasons.

Many of us have or have had jobs that tend to manage our time. As long as I was in education or the school setting (which was my whole life from the age of 5 years old to retirement), my time was regulated by the ringing of bells, lesson plans for class time, and the demands of other people such as administrators or teachers. There was always something satisfying about ending a semester or a year and knowing that that year was over, and a whole new one would soon begin. Then I had the summer to compress as much as I could into the time I had to get all my “home work” done. The house had to be cleaned in the month of June; July was more relaxed and in August I spent getting ready to go back to work.

When I retired, I found myself fighting an ongoing battle with time management. There were no more ringing bells. I have always had a strong work ethic both in work and at home. I knew my work responsibilities and my home responsibilities and I worked to “stay on track and do it all.” Retirement happened and suddenly, I was faced with hours of unstructured time and no idea how to manage them. While I had always imagined my retirement time relaxing, reading, and doing just what I wanted, the reality was that I was not programmed or deprogrammed enough to exist in that type of environment. If at the end of the day, I couldn’t look back and say that I had accomplished something or done something worthwhile, I was filled with anxiety. At the same time, I was not ready to enter the world of volunteerism. As a result of the anxiety I often failed to do anything at all and then I felt guilty. In other words, I wasn’t having much fun. Topping it off were the words and advice of people who had retired before I did, informing me that I would LOVE retirement. I was a little angry that it didn’t happen for me.

Over a period of time, I have finally begun to recognize that there is a bigger picture of our lives. I have learned that humans move from season to season just as nature does. However, we don’t have just four seasons; it is possible to experience many seasons of life depending on the path that a person takes. I don’t think that we are just young, middle aged, or old. I think that our seasons are determined by how our lives are defined at certain points. For example when we are young we could experience a season of learning in school settings. Our responsibility might be to attend school, learn all we can and at that time we began to develop the character and ethics of early adult hood.

Later we might have a season of establishing a family through marriage and children. There could be a season of being in the work place; a season for dealing with an extreme illness; a season for leaving the work place, a season for caring for aging parents and so on. Some of these seasons could even overlap and happen more than once. Of course some seasons of life are expected to occur in the young, the middle aged, or the old.

I believe that for us to live satisfying, productive, and happy lives it is really important to be able to recognize the season in which we exist and take steps to manage our lives in that season rather than allowing time to manage us. I know that Jim and I are in the season of “retirement.” Even as I say that, for lack of a better word, there is a line of thought that retirement is an artificial season because retirement in the strictest sense doesn’t or shouldn’t really happen. It is important at this time of life or in any season that we ask ourselves, “what do we still have to learn,” “how can we continue to be of service to society, our neighbors, our community, or our world. It is only as we look beyond ourselves that we find true contentment and happiness at any age.

It is just as important in managing the seasons of our lives to recognize that in order to take charge of managing the season rather than to fall victim to energy sapping activities that leave us no time for other important things, that we learn when to say “no” and when to say “yes.” Too often people become victimized because the word “no” is not in their vocabularies. Two simple questions can make a huge difference in taking control of managing a season of life. I had never encountered this amazing tool to help in decision making and I find the simplicity and straightforward common sense to be remarkable.

Question one is simply: “When you say “yes” what are you saying “no” to?”

Question two is simply: “When you say “no” what are you saying “yes” to?”


Both questions have ramifications that could impact the quality of your life so plan thoughtfully and carefully.

In a previous post on our blog ( Transitions: The Autumn of Our Lives) I explored the issue that aging is transitioning symbolically from one season to another and that at our age we are in the autumn of our lives. As it happens autumn is my favorite season and somehow to think of myself as being in the autumn (season) of my life is rather lovely. The world is beautiful with bright colors, crisp cool air, and an overwhelming feeling of all is right with world. Everything begins to wind down from the hustle and bustle of summer, and it is so nice to be able to find comfort in a sweater or a fire in the fireplace. It isn’t so cold that it is uncomfortable, but just right. That is the way I feel in my autumnal life. Life is “just right” and still satisfying, productive and even fun.

To manage and continue to enjoy this lovely season I try to follow certain guidelines:

I continue to ask what is expected of me in this season.

I continue to learn and to be active in service to my community through my church and
other activities.

I continue to plan according to my energy level. ( Not as young as I once was!)

I try to stay in touch with the rhythms of life and take time to relax and take care of myself through diet and exercise,


I ask the “yes” “no” questions before adding or deleting responsibilities or activities to my life.


By following these guidelines, I am relieved of guilt and a lot of anxiety because I can still be productive and useful within the parameters of life season. I can still relax and have fun without anxiety. I can even take time to sit under my trees with a good book and the cats snuggled nearby.

However, I still have one nagging question that tells me I still have work to do. The question is:


“How did we ever have TIME to work?”

At least I no longer feel the need to listen for the bell!

Celebrating the Journey: The Power of Love: Driscilla and Robert Storrs

Driscilla (Dehtan) and Robert Storrs
April 7, 1967

How did you meet and what attracted you to each other?

We met at the library at Wayland Baptist College (now University). The first thing I noticed was the stack of books tucked under his arm. It was Saturday toward the end of the semester and I was looking for a book to read over the weekend to finish my 1000 pages of outside reading for a sociology class. When I got to the sociology section of the library, the shelf was bare – and Robert (Bobby at the time) was holding three books – the last three in the section – planning to read 1000 pages over the weekend. We talked for quite a while, but I wasn’t able to talk him into relinquishing a book. (To finish my assignment, I borrowed a book from one of the girls in the dorm.) He called me soon after that. The fact that he had a beautiful speaking and singing voice and a great smile didn’t hurt at all!

What was the biggest thing that you had to change or learn to make your marriage work?

I had to learn to cook. Before I married, my mother and my sister did all the cooking - I hope because they wanted to. In spite of the hours spent in Miss Long’s homemaking class, I never developed an affinity for cooking. I’d just as soon eat crackers and peanut butter and drink diet Coke for a meal. Our first oven didn’t work (we paid $12 for it, so I guess we got what we paid for!) and I incinerated everything until we figured out the problem was the thermostat. We bought an oven thermometer and took hours trying to get the right oven temperature. When Robert graduated college and went to seminary, we took the stove with us. I used it for 4 years. It was a thrill to leave it behind when we left Ft. Worth. To this day, Robert won’t eat tuna noodle casserole because I made it so much during seminary days. Tuna and noodles were cheap and we could make a casserole last for two days. The final straw for Robert was when we finished off a tuna noodle casserole, it still two days until payday and we had tuna and noodles in the pantry. I fixed another casserole. When we sat down to dinner that night, Robert looked at the entrée and said, “I thought we finished this last night.” I cheerily said, “We did. This one is new.” As I said, to this day, he refuses to eat tuna noodle casserole. In the following years, I cooked for our three girls, their friends, individual students and student groups that Robert worked with, international students, visiting seminary dignitaries, church potluck dinners, and various people Robert invited to eat with us – the man who delivered our washer and dryer, the postman, students selling encyclopedias door-to-door. In spite of all this “practice,” I still hate to cook!

What was the biggest challenge you triumphed over as a couple?

We’ve certainly had our share of “challenges” to face. Probably the toughest was the year that Robert was without work. That year changed us both. I was the wanna-be-stay-at-home mom who had taken a part-time job to save money for the girls’ orthodontic work and college. Robert was the gregarious never-enough-people-around person. During that really tough year, Robert became a hermit, and I had less and less time at home as I took on more and more duties at work to meet our expenses. It was a miserable year – one that I’ve said I wouldn’t, couldn’t go through again – but we survived it.

How has your relationship changed over time?

Our relationship became a lot easier as we stopped expecting from each other what we simply could not provide and learned to appreciate what we truly had to offer. I finally learned to understand that Robert could not give me some of the emotional support that I expected from him. For instance, he doesn’t get mad with me. Some people say it’s because he’s a Libra and likes things in balance, so whatever side I’m on, he will look for the strengths in the other side in order to keep that balance. Whatever the reason, we were both happier once I stopped expecting from him what he could not give. Robert figured out that sometimes I get very down, and he learned to give me time to work out whatever was troubling me. We’ve learned not to let small annoyances become big issues.

What accomplishment are you most proud of in your life?

As you might expect, my proudest accomplishment is our children. We have three girls – a blonde, a brunette and a redhead – a nurse, a teacher and a former teacher now a stay-at-home mom. I’ve told them many times that if they were not my daughters, I would still want to be their friend. They are the delight of my heart. They are all smart and funny and can cheer me up in any circumstance.

What activities do you enjoy doing together?

At one time, Robert and I jogged about 35 miles a week, but that was years ago. These days, we still enjoy walking together. For my birthday a couple of years ago, he bought bikes for both of us, and we’ve enjoyed trying to bike together. We took the bikes to Caprock Canyon where we tried to off-road on a trail that turned out to be too difficult for us – on a day that turned out to be 103 degrees – with only a 20-oz bottle of water for each of us. It wasn’t pretty, but we did come out with a survival story! We also took yoga classes together for two months – where I fully expected to get thrown out of class because something always “happened” – like Robert coming up with his own yoga poses of Beached Whale and Walrus (a variation of Beached Whale with a finger-mustache). We also enjoy movies (though I like romantic comedy and Robert likes action so it’s hard to find a movie we both like). Mostly we love spending time with the kids and grandkids!

What is your favorite thing about being married?

My favorite is not being alone. I’m a ‘fraidy-cat and love having someone to answer the door when the doorbell rings at 3 AM (Rosa’s Mexican food delivery – wrong address) or to drive when the roads are bad. Mostly I like the fact that we’ve shared so many years together that we actually understand each other’s corny jokes.

What is your least favorite thing about being married?

Waiting. I seem to spend half my life waiting for Robert – to go somewhere, to come home, to get out of a long meeting, etc. Other than that, I can’t think of anything.

Is there anything you haven’t accomplished that you dream of doing together?

Not really. Unless you count getting fabulously rich and sharing the wealth with family and favorite charities. Or being foster parents for a dog rescue group. Or learning to square dance.

In your experience, what is the secret to a good marriage?

There are so many things that go into a good marriage – mutual respect, good sense of humor, shared goals, etc. But the one word I’ve settled on is commitment. It’s not glamorous, but it’s very practical. In fact, I figured this out during the class reunion in 1978. Our week of vacation ending at the reunion turned out to be one of the worst weeks we’ve faced together. We were living in Colorado at the time, driving to see my folks, then to the reunion. We had car trouble 8 miles from Clayton, NM, where Robert tried unsuccessfully to fashion a temporary fan belt using the elastic band from pantyhose. He finally ended up hitching a ride into Clayton, leaving our three girls and me sweltering in the car until he could get back with a real fan belt. We continued to have trouble and kept pouring our drinking water into the radiator and turned off the A/C. From the back seat, our 2-year-old daughter woke up and said, “I dirsty.” I reassured her that Grandpa would have water at his house. When we arrived at Daddy’s house in Plainview at midnight, there was a note on the screen door (this was long before cell phones) that they had been called out of town on an emergency and didn’t know when they would return. Our girls drank from the garden hose in the front yard. We tried to find a motel to spend the rest of the night, but there was a basketball clinic in town. We stopped at every motel between Plainview and Lubbock to find out they were all occupied. (It gave me new appreciation for Mary and Joseph and their plight when “there was no room for them in the inn.”) We finally found a place in Lubbock where we spent the night, but our vacation budget took a severe blow. In the morning, I called Kay Ann and Gayle and whimpered, “Hi, this is Driscilla Dehtan. Do you remember me?” Bless their hearts, they did! We spent the day with them; then, when it turned out that we couldn’t go to Mama’s house in Dimmitt that night, Kay Ann and Gayle even put us up for the night! From there, we had other fiascos during that trying week, including the near-drowning of two of our girls at the motel swimming pool in Childress at the reunion. After the reunion, Robert and I returned to the motel in separate cars (probably so we wouldn’t kill each other!). I rode with Kay Ann and Gayle. I told them all about the miserable trip. Kay Ann turned to me and asked, “And what is the Lord teaching you?” My mind came up with all sorts of negative things I’d learned on the trip. But the words that sprang to the top of my mind and out of my mouth were: Marriage is a commitment. After that, everything fell into place – or I didn’t notice anymore that they were out of place. We’ve been through some tough times since that revelation, but the truth of the words has never left me: Marriage is a commitment.