Chris Loehmer Kincaid's Blog, page 171

The Early Years

Ninety-eight years ago on the 20th of this month, my dad was born near Cologne, Germany. Thinking back on what his life must have been like, I deeply regret not gleaning more information from him. As it is, over the years, I have pieced together a few stories from that past.
He was the second youngest of six children born to Paul and Emma Loehmer. Hannah was the oldest and I have found absolutely no information on her. When the rest of the family moved to America in 1923 and 1924, she stayed behind. I know, I need to set up that Ancestry.com account and find her, huh?
The next oldest was Frederick, known as Fritz, born in 1908. The remaining siblings were Emmy, born in 1912; Klara, born in 1914; my dad and finally Franz, born in 1918.  
The only memory my dad shared with me about life in Germany was that he learned to swim when his father threw him into the river.  It was either sink or swim, so he picked up a noble dogpaddle and was able to get himself to the shore. 
I think he spoke very little about life in Germany because it had been so very hard. It’s one of those things they don’t talk about much in the history books. When Germany lost World War I, the victors imposed such stiff retributions on the country, that it seemed the country would never bounce back. Do you remember how well that worked? The poor and destitute population of Germany turned to an up and coming individual who promised to return the country to its former glory. It was so easy to be drawn into his promises, easy to be mesmerized by his oratory style. And just as this man - it doesn’t even seem right to call him a “man” he was so evil – began his rise to power, my dad and his family were packing up to come to America. How different my life would have been had they not left Germany when they did, or more likely I wouldn’t have been born.
(I just couldn't come up with a picture for tonight. There are very few pictures of my dad from back in these days, but this blog post willl shed more light on his early life.) 

Still not fighting

“Stop fighting a fight, it’s already been won.” From “I am redeemed” by Big Daddy Weave
On Thursday’s blog, I used this verse from a secular perspective. Now that it is Sunday, let me finish that thought.
As a Christian, the reason I don’t have to keep fighting, the reason the battle is over and has been won, is because Jesus has fought it for me. I can let go of my worries, my fears and most importantly my sins because I know that they are taken care of. He has paid my ransom, paid all my fines, cleared my balance. Oh sure there will be days, days that I struggle, days when people will do me wrong, days when I want to crawl back in bed and not deal with life. But all I have to do is remember that I can turn all these problems over to my Savior. He has taken care of it before it even happened.
“The Lord will fight for you and you shall hold your peace.” Exodus 14:14 NKJV

What are you fighting?

“Stop fighting a fight, it’s already been won.” From “I am redeemed” by Big Daddy Weave
I’ve heard this song on the Christian radio station hundreds of times, but never listened to the words. The other night, driving home from work, these words really caught my attention.
Whether you’re a Christian or not, don’t you ever feel like you are fighting something that really isn’t worth it, or it’s not even your battle, or it’s over and done with and you still are hanging onto it? Maybe someone unintentionally hurt your feelings years ago and you still remember it, you still hold a grudge against that person. Or maybe you didn’t get the job you felt you were so qualified for. Or maybe your spouse has been cheating on you and your heart just feels so filled with hatred that you can’t see straight.
There are a hundred different scenarios and we have each had one whittling away at us. And where has that gotten us?
Whatever you are keeping inside of you, whatever is eating at you, let it go. Stop fighting something that may or may not even be there.  The battle is over and done with.  

Who do you remember? And who do you miss?

Looking back, there have been so many people who have come and gone in my life. Starting with my grandpas who both died before I was born.  I was only two and a half when my mom’s mom died, so I don’t remember her either. The only pictures in my head of my mom’s parents are from the old home movies which Dad took at every holiday through the fifties and sixties.
Even though I was old enough that I should have some memory of her, I really don’t remember much of my dad’s mom. Again, I mostly see her in the grainy home movies, her hand to her face, trying to hide from the camera. She had been born in Germany in 1888 and had traveled to this country alone with her four youngest children. She buried her first husband in 1929 and her second one in 1934. It makes me very sad to think that there is no one alive who can tell me about either of these men. I haven’t gleaned much about them from the internet, but when I have time, I will hunt some more.  
Grandma had a hard life, there is no denying that. She was a tough old kraut though, and it sounds like she could be bullheaded and ornery. My mom still has her passport from when she immigrated to the United States in 1924. I gotta tell you, I resemble that picture an awful lot. I think I inherited more than just my looks from her.  Grandma in 1955.

Let's see your before and after.

                       
For the month of January, a blogger friend of mine is evaluating a different Pinterest idea each day. Her topics have ranged from doing crafts to cooking to how-to's. One of her posts was about the before and after pictures that you see of the stars in the tabloids. Do the stars really look that bad without their makeup on? And how do we - the nobodies - look with and without our makeup.

This is a tough one for me, but I accepted the challenge.




Personally, I don't think I know how to put on makeup. But in general, I think that the women in the before and after pictures (myself included) look older with their makeup on. What do you think and are you up to this challenge?

Thanks Michelle for the idea.

Who's got your back?

God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble. Psalm 46:1 New Living Translation
I did something really stupid this week, so stupid that I haven’t told anyone except for my husband and I had to tell him. I didn’t know what to write about this morning and then God said, “You remember that thing you did this week?” To which I said, “I cannot tell the world about that, everyone will think I am an idiot.” God didn’t say anything to that, but I knew what He was thinking, so here it goes.
I am sure that you get your share of “junk mail” email, no matter how much computer protection you have against that kind of thing. I kept getting an email for a free Kohl’s gift card worth $500. I finally gave in and thought I would just check it out.
I answered the simple survey questions and the thing pop ups saying that I have only a few steps left and this gift card worth $500 will be on its way to my address. What pops up next is this window saying, simply pick two of these great deals from our gold package.
It is a list of “free” samples such as teeth whitening or acne medication or Disney books. For the cost of shipping and handling (anywhere from $1.04 to $5.95), they will ship my “free” sample. I don’t have to do anything after that and they will continue shipping my monthly supply of whatever this is and charge my credit card until further notice (to the tune of from $54.95 to $95.95 per month). I thought, OK, I can do this, I just have to be sure to cancel this thing as soon as I get it.
After I chose my two “free” samples, the next window pops up saying, simply pick two of these great deals from our platinum package. I thought, oh, nuts, but I am in this deep already, so I might as well keep going.
So I made my selections, having already lost my excitement over the free $500 gift card. The next window pops up saying, simply pick four of these great deals from our premium package. Well, I had to admit defeat. I had been pulled in and whipped. It was time to cut my losses, wait for my “free” stuff in the mail and hope I had the time and energy to cancel all this stuff.
Then the phone rang. Nuts, I thought, this cannot be good. I checked the caller ID. No, this is not good, I decided, but I have to answer it anyway.
“This is your credit card company. Did you just authorize four on-line transactions, ranging between $1.03 and $5.95?”
“Yes, I did.” I saw light at the end of the tunnel. “And I messed up. Can you cancel them all?”
“No, I can’t since you did authorize them. But I can cancel your credit card and issue you a new one so that these companies can’t make further charges.”
I wanted to crawl right through the phone line and give him a hug.
I know that most people would say that I have decent credit card protection, but I would argue that I have better protection than that. God looks out for me in everything I do. No matter how stupid or how seemingly trivial, He’s got my back.
Thank you Lord, for being there in my every time of need, for not judging me when I make mistakes, for picking me up when I trip and fall. Amen 

A Trip to Brights Pond

As seems to be my recent trend in book reading, I discovered the Brights Pond series through a social network. I can’t remember if it was Facebook or a blog, but I just love Joyce Magnin’s little village of Brights Pond.

I started with Charlotte Figg Takes Over Paradise, downloading it when it was free on the Kindle. Even though it is the second book in the series, I didn’t feel like I missed out on anything, except for reading about earlier adventures of the lovable characters who live in Brights Pond.
My next find was Griselda Takes Flight, the third novel of Brights Pond. Equally entertaining, I met even more of the town’s quirky residents.  
These books are a look back at a simpler time, a time when winning the biggest pumpkin contest was the most important event in town. Or when a women’s softball team didn’t have to be sponsored by a tavern. Or when we all knew that prayers would always be answered.
I have yet to read the first in the series, The Prayers of Agnes Sparrow, but that is on my to-do list. Anyhoo, if you like to read a book that is a total escape, full of clean fun, good humor, eccentric folks and even a lesson or two, the novels of Brights Pond are for you. All of Joyce’s books are available on Amazon.com and Barnes and Nobles. 

It will all work out.

“Sometimes you just have to go for it and sometimes you have to wait and it sure is hard trying to decide which it is. But no matter what you do, you have to tell yourself that it’s the best decision you could make at the time. And then you go on…I don’t believe you should regret any decision you make. But that’s the way I am. Maybe I can’t admit that I’ve made a mistake. But whatever happens, it’ll work out or you make it work out.”
Somehow I had it in my head to share an Albert Einstein quote tonight. But I couldn’t decide on one and then when I found one I really liked, I couldn’t decide what to say about it. Then I thought that my sister Pat had written something similar to one of his quotes and thought I would compare the two. And by that time I was so confused and an hour had passed and I had nothing to show for it.
But as it turns out, this quotation by my sister Pat kind of fits the bill. Why do I obsess some nights about what to blog about? I mean, if it is that difficult, maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe some nights, I just don’t need to bore you with my blog. Maybe no words are better than stupid words. But whatever I write about, it is not life or death. Right? And it will all work out.  And still not a day goes by that I don't miss her. 

"Smile"

 Remember the big catch-word of the early 1970s? “Smile” and everywhere you saw a smiley face. Not to be left behind, my parents (or was it Santa?) bought me my own Smiley for Christmas, 1971.

Up until that point I don’t remember who shared in the many adventures of Randy and Dandy (my sister Pat’s two stuffed bears). But by the time Smiley came along Pat would have been 12 years old, so I think she was maybe backing off on that whole make-believe world we once lived in. I obviously remained in that world for a while.
I slept with Smiley for years. One morning I woke up and his eyes were missing. I believe that sometime in the night, during a bad dream, I pulled those little yellow eyes right off.  I couldn’t look at him until somebody (I can’t remember who) glued them back on.   That clock, by the way, hangs in my living room today, even though it doesn't keep time anymore. Bonus points if you can tell me who that is on the album cover behind Pat.

For being 41 years old, he doesn’t look too bad today, does he? 

What is beckoning you?

When I decided to challenge myself to write a blog post every day for the month of January, I assigned myself to write a poem on Mondays. All my brain can think of right now is that it was chilly outside today and that seemed to be all that anyone could talk about. I do not want to write a poem about a cold Wisconsin winter. My brain told me not to sweat the poem-thing and to wander around some files on the laptop. I came across one titled "Journal Entries".
On New Year’s Eve, 1976, I started keeping a journal. I think I filled ten notebooks over the years, mostly with teen angst, mind-numbing ramblings and various drivel about my boring life. At one point I started typing certain entries into my laptop, for no reason whatsoever. Here is the first entry I read tonight.
  Journal entry  08/04/1983  Dearest Journal  Way back when I was just a kid I thought the thing to do would be to go to UW-Stevens Point for journalism, get my degree and then turn to fiction writing.  When you see all these big time authors, their biographies always say they have a Bachelor’s degree (or sometimes a Master’s) in journalism or English. So I thought I’d maybe stick out four neat sweet years of college and then I’d be a writer.    But there were so many things that got in the way, but mostly I got in my own way. All the signs were there telling me to keep going, to make something of my life. Everything fell into place, but I fought it all the way. And still am.    Oh, dear sweet Journal, yet another door has swung open at my bidding and just inside is someone calling my name. But I’m not sure of the blueprint of the building beyond.    When the mail came, there was a letter for me.  “I am pleased to inform you that your admission to UW-Madison has been approved.”   But do I really, really want to go? Tomahawk will always be here and I’ll always come back when I am scared and cold and tired.
Seriously, that’s exactly what I wrote thirty years ago. The day that letter came in the mail, I had already completed two years of college at UWC-Marathon County and one year at UW-La Crosse.  In my heart I knew what I wanted to do with my life, but the rest of me was still stuck.
What do you think? Why do we always hesitate when that door opens and the unknown beckons us to enter? I don't know how many stories and poems I typed on this old thing.