The year is winding down. And I've noticed that '11 turned out to be a time to reflect on the past a bit for random reasons, time to think back to what it was like to be part of a family in the last century. Feeling a little antique here, but it's been good to remember.
Remembering those people. Kind of fun, kind of tender. One memory leading to another. One person to the next. One photo offering up a disappeared world of smiles that no longer light up this one. Those priceless long ago faces. Faces that didn't linger around nearly long enough. And wouldn't you know they belonged to some of the best people! Isn't that the way it goes?
As a young girl, I remember my Mom wistfully mention her cousin Dale, recalling how he was the absolutely nicest guy in the world. Too nice, apparently, for his own Father's world at that time. So he got professional help for Dale in order to adjust some, I guess, toughen up. Man up, Dale. Who knows what pressures a gentle soul could face, especially back when? In his early 20s Dale had a little accident while cleaning a gun, they said. My Mom's eyes got faraway and her voice soft the few times she ever mentioned his premature death.
But I was young and so were MY cousins. We had never known him, so what did that have to do with us? Not much. Too busy playing, too busy living. We didn't grow up spending lots of time together, but we'd horse around a few times a year---at Grandma Lukey's for Christmas, for instance, at Grandma Lucy's for Thanksgiving. I had a handful of cousins on both my Mom's side and my Dad's side. Just enough to keep it from ever getting dull at the get togethers. Maybe not a Norman Rockwell painting, but then again, that's exactly what it all seemed to be to me.
Peggy was a year or two younger than me, and she was always "on" at Grandma Lukey's---witty, vibrant, all grins. She and her older sister, Vicky, set the pace. And it was fun! But those days are long gone. Life happens, things change. Hers became complicated, difficult. Until the smiles had nowhere to go anymore, and on New Year's Eve, a month before she would turn 40, the wit and vibrancy, the resiliency she had summoned for untold years...fled. And she left this world behind.
My cousin Jimmy, however, made it into his 50s. Jimmy was on my Dad's side of the family. Such a bright kid...top of his graduating class, good solid career as an Engineer. Grandma was so proud of him. You could have bet a lot of money on him having a successful life. Good odds. Even had a family, 3 kids. He seemed to have it all. For awhile. Then. Over time. Divorce, Diabetes, Depression. Damn.
I look at these old photos. Happy innocent faces. Who knew? I miss them.
I miss them.
"Just when it looks like life is falling apart, it may be falling together for the first time. Trust the process of life, and not so much the outcome. Destinations have not nearly as much value as journeys. So maybe you should let things fall apart if that's what's happening. The nice thing about things falling apart is that you can pick up only the pieces that you want." ~Neale Donald Walsch
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Monday, December 26, 2011
When I Grow Up
JOYCE SHOLES |
Sophisticated.
Intelligent.
Classy.
And so much more.
My Aunt Joyce.
She'd put on make up every day and tailored knit suits and heels and catch the bus to downtown where she'd manage an insurance office. She was the essence of glam, in my book, the soul of independence. And I wanted to be just like her when I grew up. Once I figured out on paper how I could do exactly that-I'd just have to make $50/week to fill those shoes! Dream on!
Despite being a single career woman, or maybe because of that, she had time for us kids, her 10 nieces and nephews. Some of that would be just letting us listen to records up in her room or hide and play in the back of her mystery of a closet in the old house she shared her whole life with my Grandparents. Maybe work a little in the yard with her. But once in awhile she'd take one of us into Chicago to see a real live play ("Oklahoma" for me), or on a trip (the shores of Lake Michigan for a few days once, another time my first trip out West-to the Rockies!)
Besides introducing us to the magic of popular music, she loved to read and shared that as well. Somehow when she would read "The Adventures of Winnie the Pooh" to me, I remember I would get wildly hysterical every single time about the Heffalump, and it was then and there that I fell forever in love with Eeyore.
Joyce didn't seem to have a sentimental bone in her body, at least not overtly. I can't ever imagine her talking baby talk to a baby, but she WAS genuinely interested in us goofy kids and patient with our silly ways. Never felt judged by her. While she unconditionally accepted us, she still had high expectations of our minds... talking to us about ideas, books, life. She just treated us with respect, like miniature adults.
On that trip to the Rockies, I went with her and her friend to Colorado and then on to Yellowstone as a 13 year old wannabe world traveler. One lesson she taught me was at the Bali Hai Motel in Denver. I had taken a stroll around the grounds that evening and came back distraught because I had heard a group of people loudly laughing at me. Of all the nerve! She looked me in the eye and calmly said, "They're not laughing at you. You're not that important." Like that, the Universe shifted. I stopped being the center of it. The woman had power, I tell you.
A few days later we were in the Tetons at the base of a mountain where climbers were rappelling up. I had been in love with the idea of mountains ever since the first book I read about the West had claimed my soul, and I was thrilled just to be there. Then suddenly it wasn't enough. I just HAD to climb! I don't think I even had to say a word, Joyce just nodded to me and I scrambled up like a billy goat. No, like a mountain goat! Racing the real mountain climbers with all their gear. She understood somehow and didn't hold me back. Who else would have done that? Pretty sure I couldn't have done that any other way, at least not in such an exhilarating one. I felt capable, grown up. Like that, the Universe shifted. I became part of it.
Joyce didn't seem to have a sentimental bone in her body, at least not overtly. I can't ever imagine her talking baby talk to a baby, but she WAS genuinely interested in us goofy kids and patient with our silly ways. Never felt judged by her. While she unconditionally accepted us, she still had high expectations of our minds... talking to us about ideas, books, life. She just treated us with respect, like miniature adults.
On that trip to the Rockies, I went with her and her friend to Colorado and then on to Yellowstone as a 13 year old wannabe world traveler. One lesson she taught me was at the Bali Hai Motel in Denver. I had taken a stroll around the grounds that evening and came back distraught because I had heard a group of people loudly laughing at me. Of all the nerve! She looked me in the eye and calmly said, "They're not laughing at you. You're not that important." Like that, the Universe shifted. I stopped being the center of it. The woman had power, I tell you.
A few days later we were in the Tetons at the base of a mountain where climbers were rappelling up. I had been in love with the idea of mountains ever since the first book I read about the West had claimed my soul, and I was thrilled just to be there. Then suddenly it wasn't enough. I just HAD to climb! I don't think I even had to say a word, Joyce just nodded to me and I scrambled up like a billy goat. No, like a mountain goat! Racing the real mountain climbers with all their gear. She understood somehow and didn't hold me back. Who else would have done that? Pretty sure I couldn't have done that any other way, at least not in such an exhilarating one. I felt capable, grown up. Like that, the Universe shifted. I became part of it.
She taught me life lessons like that and gave me those kind of gifts that last a lifetime. I am so much the richer for having had such a woman in my life. So unbelievably grateful.
When I grow up, I'd still like to be like her.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Interludes
Last spring I was sharing with an old college roommate how delighted I was for another of our mutual roomies who had just hit the jackpot! Her son, whom she had worried over for years, had miraculously done a 180 and just married a beautiful girl in the Dallas temple... or somewhere like that. Other ships, aka kids, long out to sea, had come in as well, and all made for a perfect day. O happy endings! All her ducks seemed to be in order (something I have never experienced though I have my fair share of ducks, and truth be told, am no stranger to quacking) and it did seem a fairy tale come true. Is that even possible?
Then Phyllis brought me back to earth, "There are no happy endings, Muff, just happy interludes." Ahhh, I semi-recognize truth and wisdom when it hits me over the head like that, though we have been estranged for practically the duration. And it reminded me of what my Aunt Joyce told me years ago, "People are generally unhappy, they only experience moments of happiness from time to time." Wonder now if that must be on a sliding scale... or is it the fees that are?
Happy endings have seemed beyond the pale for me since I can remember. Decades anyway. How I would love for all my beloveds to be happy. Hey, and why not the whole world while we're at it? All the time.
Yep, I'm that foolish. I know it would only make for some pretty self centered little creatures devoid of much empathy, and yet it's hard to promote/tolerate suffering as a worthy process except in the abstract. In some novel perhaps. Not in the life story of those you live for. I hesitate to mention this out loud, but maybe it's good I'm not the one who gets to decide what others go through, what choices others should make. Should I stop campaigning for that position now? Could I?
But I have mulled the interlude idea over for months now, and even though I think I have an overabundance of close encounters of the dark kind, I like having an awareness of brief but shining interludes with clouds and trees, music and mountains, laughter and smiles. Peace and joy amid the muck.
I have long been falling apart, but this year seems to be more at the keeling over point. My world has been so upside down and inside out for such a long time, that the even though the happy endings escape me, I am grateful for the fleeting moments, the happy interludes that interrupt and punctuate the everyday story I'm spinning in. Even that delirious interlude last spring of just being excited for the happy interlude of someone else felt pretty spectacular....
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Flavor #31 "Flavor 32"
Jordan. 31 years done, over. Check. On to the 32nd. Like all the rest, it will be the proverbial mixed bag. Hopefully with more ups than downs, but who knows? Guess it's how you handle whatever comes as much as it's whatever comes.
So maybe it would work to just celebrate the good moments. Remember the birthday whipped cream fights of yesteryear? I'd run out and buy a dozen large cans of Redi Whip at Costco and then you kids were allowed to tear through the house in mad pursuit of the "honored" one and each other. What a mess! Whose idea was that anyhow? Shoulda had a outdoors only rule on that tradition, huh? A ton of clean up. Oh well, no harm done.
I'm not suggesting that now. Just that you find little ways (empahsis: no harm done) to enjoy the moments you have coming. Just as there are way more flavors than 31 on the Baskin Robbins website-and yes, these that I've listed the whole last month are all officially their flavors!-there are so many ways and things to enjoy and celebrate every day, not just once a year, if we just take a moment to look for them and realize.
That's what I wish for you this year. The sweet flavor of awareness and appreciation. Take a bite. Delicious!
I love you! love you! love you!
---MOM
So maybe it would work to just celebrate the good moments. Remember the birthday whipped cream fights of yesteryear? I'd run out and buy a dozen large cans of Redi Whip at Costco and then you kids were allowed to tear through the house in mad pursuit of the "honored" one and each other. What a mess! Whose idea was that anyhow? Shoulda had a outdoors only rule on that tradition, huh? A ton of clean up. Oh well, no harm done.
What great sports (aka reckless idiots)! |
I'm not suggesting that now. Just that you find little ways (empahsis: no harm done) to enjoy the moments you have coming. Just as there are way more flavors than 31 on the Baskin Robbins website-and yes, these that I've listed the whole last month are all officially their flavors!-there are so many ways and things to enjoy and celebrate every day, not just once a year, if we just take a moment to look for them and realize.
That's what I wish for you this year. The sweet flavor of awareness and appreciation. Take a bite. Delicious!
I love you! love you! love you!
And one day I Will get even! |
---MOM
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Flavor #30 "Chunk A Cherry Burning Love"
So what defines 3 decades of Jordan? The neon shorts in elementary school? Those skateboarding adrenaline rushes of the teen years? The myriad jobs in 3 different states? Family intrigue? Brushes with the law?
Maybe a little this, a little that. Too much of the stuff you didn't need. Scant traces of the hopes and dreams you once had for yourself.
Just before your 30th year, I wrote you the following letter. I have no idea if you ever read it. There have been some ups and down since then. But it still holds true. Things will all work out sooner or later. Believe me.
Jordan,
So often I find myself thinking of you and wishing there was some way I could just take all the things I feel and think and learn moment by moment and transfer them into your mind and heart without words, so you could somehow see yourself the way I do. It feels like when I try to use words when they're most important, I fail.... But here goes.
There are unique things I treasure about you--- your sense of humor; no one on this earth has made our family laugh as much and as hard as you have--- your tender feelings about our family--- your compassion for animals, or for someone down and out-- your passion, even when you channel it against President Bush! I value memories of you as an adorable 'chub' baby, as a blond preschooler other moms drooled over because you were so irresistible, as a school age boy who insisted we should only listen to Johnny Cash on Sundays, not hymns. (Definitely had an influence on the family dynamic there. Never thought I'd even tolerate, much less like Johnny Cash, but you made a convert out of me! I can even do Willie Nelson now!)
I want you to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I love you. I love you as much as I can love anyone. There is NOTHING you can do about it. Not because you have earned it or deserved it, or have in any way been worthy or unworthy of it. I love you unconditionally because I am here learning about and becoming love, and you were sent to me to be mine and help me learn to love more. NO MATTER WHAT, I will always love you!
Maybe a little this, a little that. Too much of the stuff you didn't need. Scant traces of the hopes and dreams you once had for yourself.
Just before your 30th year, I wrote you the following letter. I have no idea if you ever read it. There have been some ups and down since then. But it still holds true. Things will all work out sooner or later. Believe me.
Jordan,
So often I find myself thinking of you and wishing there was some way I could just take all the things I feel and think and learn moment by moment and transfer them into your mind and heart without words, so you could somehow see yourself the way I do. It feels like when I try to use words when they're most important, I fail.... But here goes.
There are unique things I treasure about you--- your sense of humor; no one on this earth has made our family laugh as much and as hard as you have--- your tender feelings about our family--- your compassion for animals, or for someone down and out-- your passion, even when you channel it against President Bush! I value memories of you as an adorable 'chub' baby, as a blond preschooler other moms drooled over because you were so irresistible, as a school age boy who insisted we should only listen to Johnny Cash on Sundays, not hymns. (Definitely had an influence on the family dynamic there. Never thought I'd even tolerate, much less like Johnny Cash, but you made a convert out of me! I can even do Willie Nelson now!)
Remember when you would spend sometimes almost an hour trying to get little Wayne to laugh after he had been hurt? From the time he was just over a year, he would never let anyone see him cry, but would go shut himself off in his room. You were what, 6? He couldn't keep you out, and sometimes it would take you 45 minutes, even more, to deal with his trauma. But you never, ever gave up. You just had to lighten his load, and wouldn't quit till he was laughing and could come out and join the chaos again. I thought that was remarkable, no matter what your motivation, YOU SIMPLY WOULDN'T QUIT! No one else could do that. Or would have cared enough to try!
I think people show who they really are by the "little" things they do, more so than in any other way. Some of my favorite memories include that time when you scared me to death by jumping out of the car and into oncoming traffic (yeah, well wouldn't that just thrill most Moms?) to rescue a cat that had been hit. You cradled it as we somehow were able to find a Vet that was open on Sunday, and it died in your arms as you went in for help. That's such a tender thing. (Still, for what it's worth, I'd like to encourage you to stay out of the way of moving traffic--- once a Mom, always a Mom, I guess!)
What brings tears to my eyes is plain and simple kindness. Some of your random acts in that vein that have made my cheeks wet were maybe unplanned things. Like when you made me stop three times one day in Vista to help people stranded on the side of the road with a flat tire or this or that. You were a "mere" teenager. But one with a mission that day. And many days since. You got me to go along with these inconvenient delays somehow. Watching you be the Good Samaritan is still one of life's true highlights.
I was never more proud of you than when finding out that at all those Church dances I'd take you and Collin to from Oceanside to Encinitas, you alone were asking the girls who never got asked to dance... to DANCE! The overweight girls, the awkward girls, the pariahs. I can't think of anything more heroic, personally. I so treasure that and it means more to me than you could ever imagine.
But the fun, and funny memories, are right up there as well. One of the all time favorite periods in my life was when you were working at the Holiday Inn in Solana Beach with the "Arabs". Dad and I would wait for you to come every day with your crazy stories that you would share in that "Arabic" accent (they were from INDIA, Jordan, but so much for details, huh?). I never thought anyone would be able to make people laugh more than Dad, but you far outdid him. He knew it. And he LOVED it! Your wit and insight were priceless, and your delivery flawless, day after day. Ahhh, the good old days.
And even in the midst of that nonsense, there were some very defining moments. Like the maturity and finesse you demonstrated in handling charged situations there, time after time. Remember the fight you broke up between the manager and the guest when they were ready to come to blows? You should have rightfully ended up the CEO of Holiday Inn, kiddo. What experiences! We were more than proud of you.
Then there were some special times we shared in Flagstaff when I was teaching you to drive, and you would reveal your fears and hopes. Bonding time. Hey, remember when you turned to me to gloat, "You have to admit I'm the best driver in the family now!" as you went through the stop sign at the intersection and crashed into the car of the ER Nurse! Priceless!
Jordan, I know it's been a hard road, but I think it's helped you to feel and extend compassion. And a little humility, yes?? What greater treasures are there?
As time went on, I remember pains inflicted on you that were outrageous and unwarranted. (Some I probably even initiated myself when I home schooled you for awhile, but time to let me off the hook, isn't it? Oh, how precious that was for me to be with you one on one. While you squirmed!) Other despicable things I would have had you spared, had I the choice. That's life. Not things I would have chosen for you to experience and endure when you were out of my sight, but things that on your path have made you grow, nevertheless. And you have. And will.
My respect for you knew no bounds the night before you were leaving to move to Utah. You had such great stress and anxiety that you told me you needed to just leave immediately because you were afraid you were going to knock down a wall or do something crazy. Then you took a phone call, and it ended up being a new guy from work--- at the job you had just quit with so much... shall we say "history" and bad vibes? I listened in disbelief as you managed to coach him with patience and encouragement, when you were filled to overflowing with anger and fear, and were most down yourself. Seriously, I was incredulous. Who does that? Have you any idea at all what that says about you?
What about the amazing Uncle you have been? Beginning with Madison, you have always been the fun in the the world of the little ones. An amusement park ride, a thoughtful gift bearer, a caring, goofy entertainer. Where were you when I was little? Those kids have been so dang lucky to have your thereness and your theirness.
Endless are the moments. But let me just tell you of one that forever stands out. When Dad was sick, there came that midnight hour, maybe a week or two before he died, that the morphine had run its course, and there was NOTHING that could assuage his pain. For the first time in that entire year, I felt out of control. And scared. Really scared. I was desperately trying to reach the pain Dr. and do something. Anything. You suddenly appeared in the bedroom at that point and in total calm and perfect patience worked with him, minute by minute, changing his position, answering his every whim in his absolute agony in the middle of that long tormented night, with perfect poise, endless grace, and total love. The hardest moment I have ever seen. I marveled at you as I stood back and drowned in my total helplessness for the first time, and I implicitly understood, beyond any and all human comprehension, that angels have no wings. Did I ever say "thank you"? Perhaps words were beyond me then.
But you found the right words a short time later, Jordan. The day your Father died was profound on so many levels. That you were there in the morning when he left the first time, and you helped me call him back to us, changed us all. We wanted that time to be together, to feel together, to get ready for goodbye. We just weren't ready for him to leave, were we? I needed you there during that time. He needed you there during that time. It was sweet, wasn't it? What a gift to have him with us all those hours! No fears for him or us then--- just tender, light, and even funny at times. I realized after a couple of hours, that it was meant to be. Honestly, it was so beyond what I imagined was possible. I just didn't think it could get any better than that.
Until it did. When your sisters got there from out of state that evening and found they were a few minutes too late, they fell apart on the stairs on the way up to our room. It was anything but peaceful or sweet for them. And then you went out there and saw them, and immediately reached for Chris' hand. After all those years of bitterness you had felt towards him, you grasped him and the words out of your mouth were, "By the way, did I ever congratulate you for marrying my sister and welcome you to the family?" So simple, so magnificent. In that breath, you set the course for our family and I knew all would be well. We all took that in, and went in the bedroom as a total, complete family. That had to be the one thing your Father secretly wanted, had been waiting for. Instinctively, you must have known that, and in doing so you accorded him the honor that counted most. What a gift! I will always hold that closest to my heart. Thank you.
Though you are handsome, intelligent, ridiculously funny, and sweet--- the total package, you somehow have missed seeing yourself as beautiful as you are. Just a couple of weeks ago I was visiting with Shannon Hall, and she wouldn't stop talking about you, how her family just has always adored you. Favorite babysitter, funnest guy. Sean and Ryan used to ask specifically how long their parents were going out for, and if it wasn't an extended period, they would beg their parents to get another babysitter, because they wanted to save you for the longer hauls, so they could really get into trouble with you, and not risk having you get sick of them with briefer interludes. She simply wouldn't stop going on about you--- you!--- not your sisters that she worked with, loved, and admired all those years. You. In my book, there is no one in her class at all--- she leads the pack of beautiful people, and she looks up to you! Seriously. How great to have her and Mark echo my opinion of you.
You never seem to get that you don't have to be perfect or have pure reasons for everything you do. And of course the despair and suffering you keep going through because you have never grasped your beauty, your infinite worth... and the deep anguish that has caused you is overwhelming at times. But even these struggles and challenges, though I wouldn't wish on anyone, have been learning and growing experiences for all of us. The good, the bad, the ugly--- all part of life. All remarkable, and things that I value. But these experiences--- highlights and lowlights, while enriching, and while they make me respect and admire you, are not what make me love you. For you are in my heart, safe and secure, far beyond any circumstances.
I want you to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I love you. I love you as much as I can love anyone. There is NOTHING you can do about it. Not because you have earned it or deserved it, or have in any way been worthy or unworthy of it. I love you unconditionally because I am here learning about and becoming love, and you were sent to me to be mine and help me learn to love more. NO MATTER WHAT, I will always love you!
Sometimes, even so, I think there is nothing more I can do to help you. But even if I am helpless to shoulder your load, and you have to walk a lonely path so that you find you can do it, my love is ever with you. Love is more about sacrifice and forgiving than anything else. And even though I have to set boundaries and standards because of values that are important to me, my sacrifices have ultimately been willing, and my forgiveness, infinite. And I am learning that sometimes love is more trusting you, letting you do it yourself, and just being there waiting for you.
I believe so much in the power of my love, and that it is just the merest fractional portion, the tiniest taste of the deeper, purer, more passionate love God has for us, His children. You would fear nothing, not even your disappointment in yourself, if you could but glimpse the overwhelming love He has for you. I'm not asking you to believe that. I just want you to believe that mine, such a dim shadow of that, is real and without end.
Will I still run out of patience with you? Get upset? No doubt. I just have so much hope that you will understand your pricelessness (think I made that word up) and that you will see what great things you can do. Not that you have to do them, but you will find that doing them will bring you joy, and loving/forgiving yourself and others will bring you such peace.
The things you are going through will give you experience, and hard and painful as they are, will work for your good ultimately. The more sorrow carves into your heart, the deeper your soul becomes, and the more joy it can eventually contain. (*Gibran) You can do hard things. You have done so many hard things. You are slowly getting stronger in ways you may not even see. And that will turn into light and inspiration for others as well.
I believe so much in the power of my love, and that it is just the merest fractional portion, the tiniest taste of the deeper, purer, more passionate love God has for us, His children. You would fear nothing, not even your disappointment in yourself, if you could but glimpse the overwhelming love He has for you. I'm not asking you to believe that. I just want you to believe that mine, such a dim shadow of that, is real and without end.
Will I still run out of patience with you? Get upset? No doubt. I just have so much hope that you will understand your pricelessness (think I made that word up) and that you will see what great things you can do. Not that you have to do them, but you will find that doing them will bring you joy, and loving/forgiving yourself and others will bring you such peace.
The things you are going through will give you experience, and hard and painful as they are, will work for your good ultimately. The more sorrow carves into your heart, the deeper your soul becomes, and the more joy it can eventually contain. (*Gibran) You can do hard things. You have done so many hard things. You are slowly getting stronger in ways you may not even see. And that will turn into light and inspiration for others as well.
Remember when you came home from the hospital and you were fully soaring because of how you had lost yourself in helping others there? How you had such capacity to care when no one else there did, and what a difference that had made? That's what you're here for, Jordan. That kind of transcendent purpose, that sheer joy. You are golden, hon. Ever have you been.
Over and over you have, however inadvertently, revealed the bright parts of your soul. When the light begins to shine, no matter how intensely, the darkness begins to recede. One day even the lingering shadows will leave.
Maybe you can't see or feel hope at times, but just cause you can't see or feel the sun on a cloudy day doesn't mean it isn't there. I know deep inside things will get better. It's happening already.
More,
Mom
Over and over you have, however inadvertently, revealed the bright parts of your soul. When the light begins to shine, no matter how intensely, the darkness begins to recede. One day even the lingering shadows will leave.
Maybe you can't see or feel hope at times, but just cause you can't see or feel the sun on a cloudy day doesn't mean it isn't there. I know deep inside things will get better. It's happening already.
More,
Mom
Monday, August 8, 2011
Flavor #29 "Cotton Candy"
"Uncle" Not a word given much thought in California. Just another "dude", so to speak. But oh, that word meant the world to you once Madison was born! Maybe it was the helplessness, the tender vulnerability of anything so small and defenseless. Maybe it was that you became the defenseless one when she smiled. Or that you became the King of the World when you made her laugh or stop crying or drift off to sleep.
Something changed. And you liked it. Ever since, each new niece or nephew has stolen your attention and your heart. As they grew, you became their carnival. Throwing a toddler into the air and catching them, twirling one above your head or around a room. Their giggles and screams made you indefatigable. The circus come to town.
You brought something new to the "Uncle" word, something new to that experience, something you had never had. Gave yourself. And you loved doing it. Maybe that's the whole secret....
Something changed. And you liked it. Ever since, each new niece or nephew has stolen your attention and your heart. As they grew, you became their carnival. Throwing a toddler into the air and catching them, twirling one above your head or around a room. Their giggles and screams made you indefatigable. The circus come to town.
You brought something new to the "Uncle" word, something new to that experience, something you had never had. Gave yourself. And you loved doing it. Maybe that's the whole secret....
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Flavor #28 "Classic Banana Split"
FLAGSTAFF NATIVES |
Life happened and it got more and more challenging. Because we hoped things might start to go better for you if we managed to provide you a fresh start, we split from San Diego County and moved to Flagstaff, Arizona when you were 16.
It didn't work out that way, although the parents loved, loved, loved the area, the kids surely didn't, and for you, nothing got much better. I have no pix of that time period, though it was a mere year and a half. A lot of things can't be solved geographically, and so we split again and doubled back to Southern California after this little jog, this little out of the way interlude.
SNOWBOWL |
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Flavor #27 "Wild & Reckless Sherbet"
FIRST MOHAWK! |
Like I said, Middle School was interesting. A transition period for teenagers in general, for you specifically, it was new territory on many levels. Skateboarding became your passion and you were out at all hours. Ordeal became the flip side of adventure sometimes when you'd leave the house.
Like this birthday party of yours when you guys went to the grocery store as LAMOS. Anything for attention. The hijinks started out small and built. You do have some stories to tell. And a reputation to live down....
Friday, August 5, 2011
Flavor #26 "Oreo Cookies & Cream"
Well who could resist that face? When we went to the Pound to find a friend for you, this is the mug that you fell for. He could get a from-the-heart smile for you. It just had to be the little Shih-Tzu that got rescued. And so it was.
HENRY THE CONQUEROR |
"Henry" you named him. And we thought he was something. So cute. Things started out good. Taking Henry on walks, wrestling with him, cuddling him while watching TV. And then Henry got smarter than us. He no longer could be bothered to pee outside. Too much effort. And taking him on walks anymore? Out of the question. Henry figured out how to take us on walks. Put on his leash. Open the door. Go a few hundred feet down the block. Henry stops. Pull on his leash. Wait. Tug on his leash. Henry spreads all fours flat on the street, chin and tummy resting on the pavement. Won't budge. Total roadkill. People drive by with dirty looks for the nasty animal abusers. Lift Henry into your arms and continue to walk. He trained us good and became our owner.
FAVORITE ACTIVITY |
Unfortunately our landlord lived next door, and the carpet became an issue. Tipping point. Henry won. Then lost and inevitably had to move on. Wonder how his next family fared....
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Flavor #25 "Pink Bubblegum"
Middle school. Life was relatively normal till then, ups and downs. Good times, silly times, awful times. Everyday kind of ordinary.
When we moved across town to the house on Bonnie Brae, things went upside down. A lot better neighborhood, but not much could compensate for Lincoln Middle School. It was a nightmare. Some of the teachers out of a Dicken's novel, some of the kids and gangs not yet in reform school. It was hell. Took a semester to home school you, and maybe I was your worst nightmare. Think I got more out of it than you.
Anyway, that was the end of the line for the great American happy bubble. There were moments though that were good. Neighborhood hijinks with Lauren & Greg, wild videos with Chris. And more. There were some fun highlights. So many lowlights. Would we ever see that amazing smile again?
When we moved across town to the house on Bonnie Brae, things went upside down. A lot better neighborhood, but not much could compensate for Lincoln Middle School. It was a nightmare. Some of the teachers out of a Dicken's novel, some of the kids and gangs not yet in reform school. It was hell. Took a semester to home school you, and maybe I was your worst nightmare. Think I got more out of it than you.
Anyway, that was the end of the line for the great American happy bubble. There were moments though that were good. Neighborhood hijinks with Lauren & Greg, wild videos with Chris. And more. There were some fun highlights. So many lowlights. Would we ever see that amazing smile again?
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Flavor #24 "Box of Chocolates"
Trips to Geneva, Idaho were the bomb! Shooting squirrels, fishing, snowmobiling, horseback riding, hiking up Pig Snoot, cutthroat card playing. Something for everybody, and new adventures every time. But the real thrill was that store. The front of the house was the country store for that little community. And it was the Post Office as well. So open the door, see all the people.... It was fully stocked with snacks, penny candy, warmed cashews, and a commercial freezer full of you-know-what. So every night after dinner... Woo hoo! All the ice cream you could eat.
At least that was true on birthdays, all the treats you could eat. You went up there with Dad for your eighth birthday and you were given the key to all the sugary decadence you had ever dreamed of. Only caveat was you had to finish one treat before being able to choose the next. So there were some automatic stomach limitations. But it was a priceless tradition....
When they retired, Grandma & Grandpa turned the store into a family pool hall/card den and let the good times roll. Until they sold the place.
In later years there would be no Idaho getaways for us anymore, but instead trips to St. George, Utah where they had joined all the other retired snowbirders, eventually permanently. It couldn't hold a candle to Geneva!
But wherever Grandpa and Grandma went, there went the card games. So it worked out.
Heck, even when they weren't around, the legacy lived on!
And then there were those little compensations we could mention.... Bonus, stopping in Vegas en route.
Giddiup in Geneva |
At least that was true on birthdays, all the treats you could eat. You went up there with Dad for your eighth birthday and you were given the key to all the sugary decadence you had ever dreamed of. Only caveat was you had to finish one treat before being able to choose the next. So there were some automatic stomach limitations. But it was a priceless tradition....
When they retired, Grandma & Grandpa turned the store into a family pool hall/card den and let the good times roll. Until they sold the place.
In later years there would be no Idaho getaways for us anymore, but instead trips to St. George, Utah where they had joined all the other retired snowbirders, eventually permanently. It couldn't hold a candle to Geneva!
The Greatest generations |
Heck, even when they weren't around, the legacy lived on!
"Hey, it's in our blood!" |
And then there were those little compensations we could mention.... Bonus, stopping in Vegas en route.
"Just think, some day we will all live here." |
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Flavor #23 "Transylvania Twist"
Halloween was always big in our family. Something about trunks full of costumes, and funky decorations that just made October stand out. It rivaled Christmas for pomp and anticipation, overall fun. Remember that year when we worked all month on building that table sized haunted house?
But what made it front and center for you was the huge sack of candy at the end of the night, the end of the month. You always had that insatiable sweet tooth. And a love of the macabre. Perfect combo!
But what made it front and center for you was the huge sack of candy at the end of the night, the end of the month. You always had that insatiable sweet tooth. And a love of the macabre. Perfect combo!
Monday, August 1, 2011
Flavor #22 "Huckleberry Finn"
"The Lake", Jan & Reid's farm in Amish country in Wisconsin, was a major interlude on that cool midwestern summer trip. Hiking, biking, tomahawk throwing, what else?
They had 200+ wooded acres to explore, the highlight of which was the 15 acre lake. Reid only allowed rafts, canoes, and paddleboats. No motors permitted, in an effort to keep it serene and unpolluted.
So it was more like a throwback to simpler times. And looks like those times weren't all bad....
Maybe a guy should have a summer interlude like that every year. But at least once in a lifetime, everyone should.
Ahh, those were the days!
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Flavor #21 "Chocolate Mousse Royale"
Spending a couple of weeks in Illinois on your own was a family tradition by the time you went. First flight all by yourself. Such a grown up. And the relatives there had ways of keeping you busy. Like Medieval times.
Not sure if you enjoyed more the chicken dinner you ate with your hands, the jousting show with knights on amazing steeds, or the torture room.
Ok, I'm betting it was the room with all those tantalizing devices of torment and anguish on display. Terrifying and bizarre. Thank goodness we live in a time where we only have to deal with nuclear weapons...
...and chicken with hormones.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Flavor #20 "Dirt 'n Worms"
Friday, July 29, 2011
Flavor #19 "Super Soldier Swirl"
Your Dad was drafted into the Army shortly after we got married, and it's not like we had any illusions about the military or any aspirations for you along those lines, so I'd be hard pressed to explain this picture, except that boys will be boys...with guns. It's just a guy thing.
And for the record, I breathed a little easier when they got rid of the draft system anyway. But who can resist a man in uniform?
And for the record, I breathed a little easier when they got rid of the draft system anyway. But who can resist a man in uniform?
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Flavor #18 "Love Potion #31"
NIBBLES & BITS 1986 |
For you, it was always about animals. In Encinitas we tried bunnies several times, but they didn't last long. I think they passed away from too much attention.
SOME BUNNY LOVES YOU* |
*Another actual Baskin Robbins ice cream flavor, by the way....
MY TURN, MY TURN! |
On Rose Drive in Vista, we adopted a tiny stray kitten who a few weeks later amazed us by giving birth to a litter! You got all the cuddling, and I got flea and latrine duty, till they were old enough to be farmed out, so we may have had slightly different reactions about their moving on.
BABIES WITH THEIR BABIES |
You just always have had a rapport with animals, from snakes to hedgehogs and everything in between. Even tried your hand at raising chickens until the racoons cut that short. Think maybe we should have encouraged you to become a vet.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Flavor #17 "Campfire S'mores"
THE TRAMPOLINE---SANTA'S BIGGEST HIT EVER |
Our neighborhood in Vista left a little to be desired. Ok, a lot. So did the house. It was not our glory period to be sure. But we made due and still managed to eek out some good times. Hard to beat a campfire, no?
SUMMER CAMPING IN THE BACKYARD |
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way...."
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Flavor #16 "Made With Snickers"
PILE UP! |
So a big plus of living in sunny California was visitors. And the Dudeks were the best! Every year without fail they would come and spend Thanksgiving weekend with us. So we got a chance to really get to know these cousins. We explored San Diego with them and did corny things, like those embarrassing Thanksgiving and Christmas videos every year.
OCEANSIDE PIER |
The worst time was the year they brought their dog Snickers down. She was so old and could barely walk. Truly, it hurt to watch her try. They arrived with her about noon and we were ready to eat, so we put her in the backyard and shut the gate. Miraculously she entered the side door to the garage and exited to the real world through the open garage door with no one the wiser. But while we began to set the food out, someone did notice and the panic that ensued was epic.
We abandoned the house and with so many of us, we fanned out in every direction. No Snickers! It was like losing a baby. We made Lost Dog signs and slapped them up on lightposts for blocks. We had heavy hearts and tummies that were more sickened than empty, when finally Dad decided to start going downhill. Not emotionally as we had been, but literally. Deliberately at every corner. He just figured to follow the path of least resistance and finally traced her down many, many blocks away. THANK GOODNESS! We ate cold turkey, with an extra dose of gratitude, but not until we were sure all doors were tightly shut.
The best time was the year when the power went out all day, beginning at 9 in the morning. The turkey was half done so we just left it in the tepid oven the rest of the day to finish while we played hide and seek and goofed off in the semi dark, cold house. All disasters should be so fun!
MATT & JORDAN AT LA JOLLA CLIFFS |
Monday, July 25, 2011
Flavor #15 "Olympecan"
SO ALL AMERICAN BOY |
FIRST SOCCER TEAM---"HAWKS", ENCINITAS |
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Flavor #14 "Reese's Peanut Butter Cup"
First Day of School-Encinitas |
Crest Elementary School. That's where you got your official start. Well before that you did a year of preschool in Rancho Santa Fe, but when it was time to hit the big leagues, you joined some of your siblings at the school in an older part of Encinitas.
Almost before you had a chance to decide if you even liked it or not, we moved north, to Vista, right after Thanksgiving. I convinced Dad to keep driving you kids to school, hoping you could finish out the year with the friends and routine you had come to know. But he gave up with that plan after a couple of months, and you were transferred to Olive Elementary in Vista. Probably not the best school in the world, probably not the worst. But you adapted and we stayed there 6 years.
BIG BOYS IN VISTA |
What kept you going that long is probably all those peanut butter sandwiches your devoted, if impoverished and unimaginative mom, sent you to school with everyday. Maybe tuna fish once in a blue moon. Bet you're allergic to peanut butter by now.... And how 'bout that mac & cheese?
5th Grade Camp---What years of education does for guys |
Hey, you made it anyway. Must be a survivor!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Flavor #13 "Fat Free Vanilla Frozen Yogurt with Live & Active Cultures"
Man on the go when you got wheels. Think you were just trying to keep up with the big kids. A guy on the move. Sometimes you just have to keep out of the way, you know?
A good thing you were able to be mobile in your hot rod, because somehow once we moved to California you were no longer able to walk. I don't mean you regressed to crawling or that we had to start packing you around again, but you simply wouldn't walk any more. You jumped! Everywhere. Just bouncing up and down wherever you went. And it would tire us out to watch you. We nicknamed you "Tigger". And eventually such locomotion must have tired you out as well.
A good thing you were able to be mobile in your hot rod, because somehow once we moved to California you were no longer able to walk. I don't mean you regressed to crawling or that we had to start packing you around again, but you simply wouldn't walk any more. You jumped! Everywhere. Just bouncing up and down wherever you went. And it would tire us out to watch you. We nicknamed you "Tigger". And eventually such locomotion must have tired you out as well.
TIGGER & POOH |
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