Farewell Party

Tonight was that party for us over at the church.  I'm still having a hard time believing it... all those people (dozens!) that came just because we're leaving.  (Of course Lynnette loved it; I try talking with people but it's just never natural.)  Wow.  Of course, people said nice things... they had to... all except Rex Marshall who was brutally honest... he's a funny man... but really, these genuinely good people spent their time there because of us.  But I guess the food didn't hurt.

Wow.

Unseen Kindness

Yesterday all the kids had a great time: they all went out with friends, Olivia to go shopping and everyone else to go sledding.  But the great thing about it all was what I understood after they got home:

• Olivia was invited out by a girl at her school.  As you may know, Olivia is mentally handicapped, so the fact that they did this is a real testament to their character... and it provides a great memory to Olivia who is extremely happy to have gone to the ballet, to McDonald's, and shopping together with someone.
• Ella took Thomas with her because her friend has a little sister for him to play with.  That was nice to see, but what was cool for them was the kindness of her friend's mom, who fed them hot chocolate and pizza and chips.

I didn't see any of this, but that makes it all the more valuable.

Yet Another Funeral

I attended a funeral yesterday.  I don't have much to say about it... all I have to say is that I saw genuine emotion in action, and that was cool.  We were fortunate to hear from some very talented speakers and musicians. In the end, though, it was the tenderness in people's eyes and voices that made it such a soulful experience.

Help, Out of Nowhere

So our Lake Powell trip involved 1 crippled houseboat (with only 1 working motor), 1 ski boat, and 21 people, only 1 of whom really knew how to drive the houseboat and run everything. That's Rob, and he spent the first day shuttling people back and forth from where the houseboat was parked. So of course that's when we got a good Lake Powell storm, one they said they experience only every few years or so. The wind started blowing hard, and it sent a canopy end-over-end on the sandy beach; our little Ellie ran and grabbed it, and then Abel and I took it apart to keep it from going further. I was kind of enjoying the change in weather, not thinking about what else might happen... until I saw the houseboat's back end pulling furiously on the ropes and threatening to rip free and plow into a houseboat on the other side.

Talk about sudden horror! Rob's 17-year-old daughter Ashtyn knows something about boats and we tried the best we could to keep it moored. We turned on our motor (Ashtyn's idea; thank heavens for her) and tried to get it to pull us back. I don't even remember what else we were doing; it was such a blur.

Then suddenly there were about 4 men helping out with the ropes, and coming on board to help get that back line tied tightly. Come to find out later they'd come from across the bay in their ski boat, braving the waves just to give us some assistance. Thanks to them we pulled our back line tight and maybe even pulled the whole boat into position. Besides the back-breaking, wet work, they got us to point the motor the correct way; turns out we had been making things worse by pointing in the wrong direction. Finally, we were set into place as good as possible, and the men left as suddenly as they came.

It took us a day to recover. The storm (combined with our work) pushed the boat up on the shore about 5 feet, and the back end was sitting low in the water. It took some digging and coordinated effort to get it pushed off the beach and into a good position. Things could have turned out much worse.

The next day, the men who helped came over asking for matches. We only had two boxes, and we couldn't afford to part with them.

Ha! I make joke.

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This event is unlike most of the ones I record here: there was no strong feeling or grand revelation from the experience. There was simply a slow relief that came as the danger gradually subsided. But from time to time, I think back on these strangers' work and I feel a pleasant glow of appreciation. That's a treasure, and I'll always value it.

The Police Are Watching

It was Saturday, and since there was plenty of work to do with our family business, I planned to go in to that office to get some things done. I played basketball at 8, ate breakfast, and then made some phone calls for our sick Olivia and for our broken computer, and by that time I felt I should just go in my sweats without showering or shaving; before walking out he door, Lynnette took one look at me and asked if I was going like that; I've learned some of the basic hints, so I put on a baseball cap so I wouldn't "scare anyone"... or maybe so that she wouldn't be embarrassed if I met anyone she knows.

Since Lynnette was working and doing chores, I offered to take Thomas, our 4-year-old who is infamous for throwing tantrums and being difficult at the worst possible times. (All our four kids are adopted; I'm afraid we would have stopped with him if he were our first.) There's always a chance that he'll throw a huge wrench in the plans, but he's definitely easier to handle one-on-one, so I hoped he would cost me at most a half-hour sitting in time-out.

I actually thought to bring along fruit snacks and his coat, which is not like me. I threw them in the seats along with the rest of my mess; when I've got multiple projects going on, you can see my disorganization spread throughout my car.

As we left, Thomas asked, "Can I ride my scooter?" He's a funny kid: sometimes he likes to walk to our destination while I drive close by, at least part of the way. Of course, he wanted to ride his scooter in the middle of the street; I made him ride on the other side of the street while I drove on my side, not too far ahead or behind lest he yell for me to stay close to him.

We went almost a mile, crossing one street and approaching the next street just before the freeway, so I said, "Thomas, I'd like to go fast now. Would you come in so we can go? You can have a fruit snack." He thought a sec and said "OK!" and brought his scooter across the street; I popped the trunk and fit his scooter in with the junk, then let him in the car and gave him a treat.

We took off, and as we got on the freeway I remembered his seat-belt, so I pulled over and buckled him in.

It's only 10 minutes to the downtown 4th South exit. We got off and headed to the next street. As I was waiting to turn onto 5th South I noticed a police car immediately behind me and to the left, angled to get right behind me and in front of the next car in line. Weird, I thought; you don't often see a cop doing something strange in traffic. As soon as I turned, his lights went on and he pulled me over. Great.

He came up to my window and asked me for my license and registration, but before I even got them he said, "I need you to put your keys on top of the car." OK... now I was getting a bit nervous. I instinctively went to my pockets, and of course he barked, "Get your hands out of your pockets, Sir." Sorry! Then he looked in the back and asked about Thomas, and said he'd need Thomas to get out of the car. OK... now I was extremely nervous. I start recalling stories about impersonators, and I wonder who I need to call to verify that everything's on the up-and-up. I asked him something (I don't recall what), and he quickly says, "We had someone report a man picking up a little boy on a scooter."

What a relief!

Seriously, that bit of information was a monumental shift in my perspective. One second earlier I was feeling scared and physically jittery, both for my son as well as myself. However, after hearing that, those feeling immediately washed away and I was genuinely appreciative and even giddy that a policeman was watchful enough to see us and stop us out of concern for Thomas; I was also glad that someone called in, worried for him... because this happened to be a situation where everything was extremely suspicious: a young Hispanic boy scooting along alone, followed by a grungy, white driver who offers him candy to get in a rather disheveled car. (I wonder these kinds of situations are actually common with me?)

The policeman took Thomas behind my car and knelt down to talk with him. Others arrived; I was asked if I had a picture, and other questions (such as if I had called anyone, since I had my phone out looking for pictures). They called Lynnette to ask her some questions, too. (You'll have to ask her about that sometime.) Police kept arriving until there were at least 8 around, with at least 5 police cars behind me as well as in the next lane over. I'm not exaggerating. Finally, they were fairly satisfied and they let me get out and be with Thomas; when they were totally finished I went around and shook everyone's hand. They gave Thomas a teddy bear. It was smiles all around... and especially for me. It turned into one of those cool times when you feel a glow for hours, appreciating people who have just done something magnificent for you.

a husband's loving example, years later

This past week was my parents' anniversary, and today is my dad's birthday. Dad died a few years ago; Mom now lives here in Salt Lake, and she decided to go back to Missouri where he is buried to memorialize him this week. I drove her to the airport, and we ended up discussing some of the issues (AKA problems) of the family out here in Utah, and she talked a bit about Dad's example to her.

Dad was more patient and hard-working than most, and although things rarely worked out the way he planned, he always focused on the blessings in his life; he always trusted that things would work out, and he continually kept up a cheery attitude. This was remarkable to us while he was alive, and we respect it even more now that he's passed on. Mom is no exception: she admits that she sometimes took a grim view of things when they didn't have much money or stability in their lives, and she admires Dad all the more now because he was steady even when she was not.

So she mentioned some of the things that are difficult for her now. It wasn't an expression of self-pity, and there was no sense of complaint; there are some things that she is enduring, but even more than that she's trying to make situations better even where there's almost no hope for things to get better. That's the type of attitude that's inspiring: rather than harboring resentment or giving up, you attempt different things and push doggedly through the never-ending problems until you find something that helps. That's Dad's attitude. She cried as she explained how good he was when they first moved to Missouri and didn't have anything; he was good even though he had frustrations and he felt her frustrations. That example keeps her striving to be better and kinder in whatever tough personal issue comes up.

That's how loving-kindness changes lives, even years after the fact.

Repeat Customers

A friend of mine creates quilts by hand and sells them at a show in Las Vegas. They're very original, created with swatches of whatever she likes: Tinkerbell, camouflage, and even a Christmas-themed Elvis one. She got back from her most recent show the other day and was talking about her adventures, and she mentioned how some of her customers had returned to buy another quilt. What a rush! The fact that someone likes your work enough to pay money in the first place has its non-monetary benefits, but to have someone come back a year later and seek you out so they can again get something you have created... that must be a great feeling.

I appreciate what I have.

Expressing gratitude for other people is a great way to build ties and bring a little more intensity of feeling to your day. But this morning I've seen around me a ton wonderful things that I have that make my life easier or more fun.

• We're growing corn and tomatoes, and there's just something cool about seeing these things thrive and emerge into something fantastic with very little prodding. (Well, in my case, "thrive" isn't the right word, but they're cool anyway.) I just noticed that my tallest corn stalk is taller than I am. Yessss!

• We are so lucky to have air conditioning, as well as all the other goodies in our house: running water, a stove, a microwave, comfortable furniture, and on and on. There are so many things that add up to make life much more pleasant.

• Computers are incredible machines. I work on them every day, but I still appreciate how much they can do: I remember my first "Aha!" moment when I made a picture by printing out a bunch of text in the shape of a tree; I love how you can make ideas come to life with programming. But even without that education, there is so much more that we can do nowadays on these things, and it can be a lot of fun.

It's good to be alive. There has been a lot of effort put in by other people that brings us tangible benefits today, no matter where we live. Realizing that makes some genuine appreciation to life.

A good dinner

Our youngest, 3-year-old Thomas, is our most difficult child because he is very willful and has an extremely short fuse; my sister-in-law has 6 children, and even she says that he's the hardest she's dealt with, so I know he's a special case. In every activity with us, he has at least one fit where he screams or throws a tantrum or actually throws something. He is getting much better with us (or vice versa) because there are times that we can pay direct attention to him and go through the steps of "please..." and then "I need you to..." and then a time-out, and he'll often come around. But it is incredibly frustrating to deal with someone who is constantly contrary.

So it was very surprising and rewarding last night that he came and sat down with us for dinner, and furthermore he didn't complain one time as we ate! When I asked him to move over to make room for someone, he said "OK" and did it right then. He talked to us calmly and said "only a little" as we gave him his salad, and he didn't yell or push away his plate when I put on the second fork-full. He ate all his dinner; he's an interesting one because he usually likes all his vegetables (and prefers them to meat), but he doesn't often eat everything like that.

I found myself pleasantly surprised that we had such a nice time together, and even now it is so gratifying that dinner last night was so... normal. Many good memories are emotional moments in unique situations; this one will be a treasure not because it was so remarkable but because it was such a departure from all our previous experience.

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I realize that I did not praise Thomas for his behavior. How many times do we have a normal interaction with someone and fail to recognize that blessing in the moment, much less fail to express appreciation for it? Yesterday at work, Gordon was remarking on how much pain we've had in the past when making large-scale improvements to our product, and now we reap the benefits and consider our current situation as normal but we hardly recall how much work it took to get to this point. Yes, I feel lucky right now to have the everyday life that I do.