Naomi's OCD

For some reason, at this time of transition in my life, I very rarely feel like I have anything to say that is worth putting online.  I thought I would have so much, with all the things I am learning right now in my life.  But, the fact is, I rarely take pictures, and I am not feeling inspired these days with eloquent words of wisdom, or even words of not so much wisdom. Life is just life, at the moment.  And that means that life is good.

So, is it bad that the only time I feel a need to create a blog post is when my parents do funny things?  Is it bad that it has become a joke between the three of us, this privileged place I have right now, of living with them and seeing all their quirks come out to play?  I don't think so.  I think it is hysterical, and luckily, they think it is funny too.  We all laugh when something happens and I say, "that's going on the blog."  Like today, for example....

We went to the Provo and Springville Cemetaries to pay respect to deceased family members in honor of Memorial Day.  Mom took a bunch of fake flowers to adorn the headstones of her parents and siblings who have passed on.  The first stop was her parents' site, and there happened to be a nice arrangement in place already, fake of course, to withstand the weather.  Mom placed her offering, then proceeded to try and find a better place for the other arrangement, because she was not satisfied with the position.  It was propped up against the headstone, kind of blocking her mom's name.  That was not OK with her.  After a few minutes of struggle to find a better spot in which the flowers could be stuck into the ground and stay up, she lost the fight and left them as they were.  My guess is, the other person placing (probably my cousin) couldn't find a better place either.

Then we went to the area where my mom's siblings are buried.  At one particular site, she tried to put the flowers down into the ground on either side of the head stone.  When she struggled with it, she had my dad try.  After a few minutes of both of them struggling and finally succeeding to get the fake flower stems into the hard ground, she goes, "here, switch me."  When my dad questioned her about it, Mom, just says, "it matches the other flowers at the grave next to it better if they are switched." .................................


My mother was concerned enough about the color scheme of flowers around headstones in a cemetery to change how she arranged hers.  My dad and I just kept looking at each other like, is she serious?  Apparently.  I said, "Mom, you can do whatever you want, but I reserve the right to tease you about it."  She just laughed and kept on arranging fake flowers stuck in the ground.  What I love about them is that neither Mom or Dad take themselves too seriously. 


After that, at her sister Ardis' grave site, she proceeded to clean up all the flowers at other sites around it that had fallen down in the wind.  That, I actually helped with, out of respect for wanting to keep the graves looking nice.  

Mom at Aunt Ardis' and Uncle Revo's Grave.

It doesn't change the fact that my mom is a little OCD sometimes.  And that Dad and I find it really entertaining.  

You know, just picking up flowers.  That's how she rolls.