effort and time. This was in the day WAY before the internet, and at the time, the only telephone Dad could use was on the island of Betio, a drive and a boat ride away. He was having to write weekly reports to his mission president, and probably CES leaders as well, which would take weeks to get to them anyway. I remember the typewriter we had brought with us which he used for that purpose. It came in a white box/case, and the typewriter itself had a creamy white shell, but it seems like there was some blue or grey on it - the keys, or something. (Kids, a typewriter is what came before computers, kind of like a printer and keyboard combined, requiring no electricity - just finger power - but no correcting allowed!)Anyway, Dad was under TREMENDOUS pressure. I remember I could feel the tenseness. Dad also had an explosive temper back then, and had yet to learn how to curb it, (but he NEVER hit anybody). Nevertheless, it was scary when he got mad. I remember one night, when Dad felt particurly overwhelmed, and was trying to type up his weekly report. I don't know what it was about that report, or the typewriter, or what, but he exploded. He threw the typewriter across the room. (Not at anybody or thing.) I huddled in the bedroom, (I think it was after most of the kids were asleep,) and felt the stress emanating from him until I couldn't stand it any longer. I slipped out of the back door, and walked the beach, praying, and trying to push away the feelings of tenseness I had felt back in the house. I don't remember when or how, but I remember next my mom being with me - walking with me maybe? - and me crying to her. I remember telling her, "Mom, we haven't had family home evening in a long time, maybe that's why Dad is so stressed out!" I remember saying that because I had felt that impression while I had been praying. She agreed with me, and held me. I finally felt better enough to go home and go to bed.
That was the worst experience I remember when my dad couldn't contain his stress. Now that I'm older, I would like to hear his story of what was going on at that point to cause such great frustration for him. Whatever it was, it seemed that from that day onward, things got better there. Satan couldn't win, because God was on our side.
By the way, the typewriter was fine, and he used it for many more years, before a computer replaced it in the 1980s!
That was the worst experience I remember when my dad couldn't contain his stress. Now that I'm older, I would like to hear his story of what was going on at that point to cause such great frustration for him. Whatever it was, it seemed that from that day onward, things got better there. Satan couldn't win, because God was on our side.
By the way, the typewriter was fine, and he used it for many more years, before a computer replaced it in the 1980s!
1 comment:
Every week I had to write a status report to three individuals under whom we served: the mission president, the CES administrator for the Pacific Schools of the Church, and the Area Authority who was living in Hawaii. I think I always composed one letter for them all, but I had to type it on the typewriter using carbon paper. I had to make a copy to keep in my records too, so that meant three copies along with original. Comosing the reports seldom caused me any problem. It was the process of typing that caused frustration, since there were times when I put the stack in upside down so the carbon copies could only be read in a mirror, or when the carbon paper had been used so much that the copies could not be read even if I pounded pretty hard on the keys. When something like that happened I'd have to type it all over again, and I was generally too busy to want to do that. Most of the times it was my own mistakes that caused the problems, and I have always had a hard time dealing with my own mistakes.
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