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Waxing Nostalgic

                He looked around the room one last time. All his stuff was out. He was really leaving, and it was finally hitting him. He decided he couldn't leave without taking two pictures with his phone - one from each end of the room.  Then he calmly and quietly locked and closed the door behind him as he slowly walked away.

                This office hadn't been his favorite building to work in of the four he'd been assigned in the course of the job, but it was where his time was spent as the noncommissioned officer in charge and where he was able to, in a small way, make a difference by making sure no appointments were missed, everything was kept clean and orderly, and everything that was to be done was finished correctly and timely. His record wasn't perfect, but he knew the program had been better off because of his dedication to the job.

                On his way out of the building he checked each door he went through, as it closed behind him, to ensure it was secured.  The personnel gate outside was locked, but the vehicle gate had been left open, as it had been just a couple other times during his tenure. He had already turned in his keys, so he only had two options. Rather than climbing over the fence, he took the longer walk through the vehicle gate - out and around to the employee parking lot. He put the few items he was carrying into his car and drove back to the vehicle gate to courteously close and lock it, as a good team member would, covering for his buddy, - one last time.

                He reflected on his time with the job. It had been about two and a half years since he began - starting as a part-timer. The hundreds of funerals he had worked flashed through his mind in a big blur. He thought of the people with whom he had worked, the families of the departed servicemen, the things he had done and learned, and the sacrifices he had made - even torturously missing his grandmother's funeral while he was away at a leaders' course for the job. He waxed nostalgic as he drove home.

                It reminded him of when he had left a schoolhouse back East for the last time not too long ago - the place where he had learned so many things and fell more and more in love with a new field of work and study. The place was filled with memories of so many lessons learned, some weaknesses found, and more success than he would have guessed. The memories were sweet, as the mind tends to block out the negative on its own, and for a moment he decided to simply reflect on what he had accomplished, rather than stressing about what was ahead and all he had to do.

                The job to come would bring much more to learn and much more stress. It would be more complicated simply by the nature of the work. It didn't really matter though. He knew he could do it. He had proved to himself that he could do hard things and take responsibility seriously. The job he was leaving had prepared him for the new one.

                He pondered on the possibility of continuing to work the old job whenever he could. He could devote his newly won weekends to working more funerals. This would allow him to continue wearing the tab on his uniform that he was so proud of. The tab meant a lot to him. He had worked hard for it. It was tempting to prolong the separation from the old job this way, but he realized he couldn't do it. The weekends the new job provided would have to be dedicated to excelling in his new position. There was work to be done, and he couldn't afford to live in the past. The separation had to be clean. He had known this already, but finally realized it and admitted it to himself.

                Besides, he was leaving the office in capable hands. The new NCOIC was present in the infancy of the program and hadn't really ever left since that beginning. Another soldier served as the resident expert on matters pertaining to the geographic area of responsibility and the veterans' groups the team worked with.  The replacement soldier was a good fit for the job too. He could play 'Taps' live, he had been well trained, and he had been the runner up for the new job being taken by the first.

                The program would go on without him, although that wasn't really ever a question. He was just realizing that he'd be able to go on without the program - even if he didn't really want to.

                No, everything would be fine. There were new stresses and challenges ahead. There would be times he'd feel like banging his head against a wall and times he'd wonder, again, what he had gotten himself into, but everything would be fine. It was time to move on - and he realized he was okay with it.

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Ode to Larry

My former college choir director, UVU's Professor Gene Lawrence (Larry) Johnson, passed away on July 8, 2011, due to complications following a liver transplant.

Preferring his students to address him simply as "Larry," he was an easy-going guy with a good sense of humor. On a particularly rowdy day in class among the choiristers, Larry became very frustrated with the choir's inability to remain quiet and listen to instruction. His voice cut through the no...ise with "DANG IT ALL TO HECK!" - The room fell silent. As everyone attentively stared at him, he began to laugh at himself over his outburst. He offered a brief explaination/apology, and we all moved on with class, better behaved.

He truly LOVED the music and had an INCREDIBLE ear for it. I'll never forget the rehearsal when I was the only one who was actually able to hit the "low C" written in the bass line of the Russian piece we were working on. Obviously I wasn't able to project the note loudly, but HE HEARD IT! Right after he cut us off at the end of the piece he excitedly asked, "Who was that?" I doubt many other people heard the note, but Larry did, and that made me feel like a million dollars that day. :) Thank you, Larry, for sharing your talents and your passion with me and so many others.

Larry's Tribute Page on Facebook can be found here.

Larry's obituary can be read here.

I'm now on YouTube!

I've just uploaded my latest video slide show to YouTube! :) This is the first time I've uploaded there.

Check it out by clicking HERE

or go to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HyWo2WavSjw

Sunrise After Early-Morning Physical Training

This drinking fountain is in the plaza of the Freedom Center bachelor housing on Fort Meade, Md. The sun rises red on a purple horizon most mornings. I'll try to capture this shot again soon with better color accuracy.

My "About Me" Video

http://www.mhpdigital.com/qhendriksen/

This link forwards to a video I created in an attempt to showcase my work for the Utah National Guard's 128th Mobile Public Affairs Detachment to accompany my application for transfer into the unit. I guess it worked. :) I'm now in school at the Defense Information School at Fort Meade, Md. to learn the art of Public Affairs and Photojournalism within the realm of the Department of Defense.

http://www.mhpdigital.com/qhendriksen/

Farewell, Grandma. I love you forever!

04 April 2011, Salt Lake City - A wonderful, beautiful, sweet, and loving woman slipped from this life into the next last night due to ailments incident to old age and memory-loss. This woman was my dear grandmother, Dorothy Hendriksen. Born on 25 NOV 1928, she was raised by a public school music teacher and his second wife, her step-mother. Her birth mother had died by the time Dorothy was 3 years old. Her family was a very large and loving group. She was the third of thirteen children. They learned faith in God and love of country in their home. They were taught the value of hard work and all became upstanding citizens within their communities (and some have become very well known).

She met the love of her life, Oscar Hendriksen, in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and they served there together for decades. They raised eight wonderful children, all of whom are accomplished musicians. A couple of them have been music teachers in public schools for years, many of them teach private music lessons, and two of them currently serve in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. All of her children have made her proud and all have fond memories of her strict expression of love and method of teaching.

She generously shared her love with those around her through word and deed and taught hard work through example. Her grandchildren were always thrilled to visit at her house and were always given food or treats. Her love of and service through music extended beyond her retirement from the Tabernacle Choir. She spent many years as a Ward Choir Director and would often lead her family in songs at campouts, reunions, and holiday parties. Even as her mind slowly slipped away from her in her last several years on this earth (as had also happened to her father) and she eventually couldn't speak or take care of her own essential needs, she knew, recognized, and loved music and could often still "direct" her family as they sang songs with her and for her.

She left a lasting impact on the lives of her siblings, her husband, her children, her grandchildren, and her great-grandchildren, as well as all others who had the opportunity to get to know her. She will be remembered for her kind ways, for her loving nature, for her generosity, for her great example to others, and for her infectious love of music. She will be missed by all who knew her.

Farewell, Grandma. I love you forever!

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