Nursing in Barrow

Chapter two of my sister, Sandi and nephews, Stefan and Michael's July visit from Pennsylvania... The weather was sunny and calm for most of the visit.   I was thankful as one can wake up on any given day to find that it’s foggy, rainy, extremely windy, muddy or dusty or a combination of up to all.   Local people commented that two of the days were the nicest they’d seen in at least several years.   It really was wonderful.   I felt fortunate that the mosquitoes were at a minimum.   There were a few buzzing around…enough to keep the boys jogging at times to keep away from them.   They definitely seemed to prefer Michael, causing him to finally walk briskly with his coat zipped up to the top of his head.   I missed getting a picture = )   I’ve heard friends talk about trips out to other villages lately where the mosquitoes are so thick that they interfered with the helicopter propellers and being so thick that one couldn’t open a mouth without inhaling a hundred.   Good tim

I held my camera between the openings of the chain link fence as I watched the Alaska Airlines 737-combi land and approach the terminal the morning of July 3, a momentous day for me as my sister, Sandi, and nephews, Stefan and Michael, were on the last leg of their trip from Pennsylvania to Barrow for a three day visit.  I don’t cry easily, but I couldn’t help feeling my throat and chest tighten and a few tears run down my cheeks as I stood there and thought about their coming. Sandi, our brothers Don, Nels and I were raised in Fairbanks, approximately 550 miles south of Barrow.  The memories of growing up there in the log house our parents, Don and Diane Peterson and Dad’s best friend, Bayne Hunter, built have held a special place in all of our hearts, I think.  We built tree forts, ran through the woods, found tree frogs, watched Dad make burn piles of the brush he cleared from our lot, picked what seemed like endless amounts of rocks from the dirt picnic area Mom and

I felt a slight sense of happiness make its way into my thoughts this morning.   It’s been over a week since learning the news that plunged me and many others in Barrow into an almost inconsolable grief.   I’ve avoided my favorite path to work and back most days since hearing.   It is just too painful to be reminded of what happened.   I thought that my grief had lessoned and that I could safely walk the path again, so I ventured on it this afternoon, taking Jenta.   The small grave we passed is covered in fresh flowers.   It’s beautiful, but for all the wrong reasons. The people I’ve gotten to know here seem genuinely friendly and pure hearted.  The practice of generosity of knowledge, time and resources seems to flow naturally.  This describes very well a young man who makes a valuable difference in the community through the work he does.  He and his wife and children are loved by many people in Barrow. While out on an early morning bike ride the Sunday before last, I stoppe