Morning Light

A lovely sunrise on my way into work yesterday morning. Unfortunately, by the time I fumbled with my camera and managed get it turned on, most of the sunrise was gone.

Pretend this photo is pretty.

Random Thoughts Before the Holiday

Today is the day before Thanksgiving and as with most holidays, it’s a mixture of excitement along with a(n) (un)healthy dose of apprehension.

Sam has the day off from work today. As with pretty much every morning, I’ve left breakfast on the table for him. And, pretty much like every morning, I’ll be in touch with hi throughout the morning, checking to make sure everything is going well. I’ve no reason to think things would otherwise, but still, you never know…

If everything goes well, I’ll be picking Rachael up from the bus station later this afternoon. Jake will be heading home for the holiday- either tonight or tomorrow morning. I’m not sure which. And Helaina will be home tomorrow morning, as well. And hopefully, if everything goes well, we’ll spend the day together, enjoying each other’s company

I look forward to Thanksgiving, just as I look forward to Christmas. I look forward to any time the family is able to be together. But until everyone is home, safe, it’s always tinged with an amount of apprehension.

I’m not exactly sure why this is.

I wonder if it might have something to do with Dad and I wonder if it might have something to do with Sam.

A little over twenty years ago, Dad died unexpectedly, just before his fiftieth wedding anniversary. A surprise party had been planned, with invitations for the big event having been sent out to Mom and Dad’s old friends. Needless to say, everything had to be canceled.

I think back to that period of time and how it felt like being on a roller coaster - the car slowly climbing up a long hill in excited anticipation, only to find that the track ended at the top, and the car fell off a cliff.

Just under a year later, Sam’s troubles came suddenly and profoundly to light. All these years later, I still remember it, I still feel it with a unsettling amount of clarity.

What was supposed to be a day filled with joy, a family day of going to the fair, instead ended up being a life-changing day, a day book-ended by hospitals.

The morning began at the local emergency room and by the evening, we found ourselves at the pediatric intensive care unit at a hospital some forty miles away. This was not just the beginning of a two week long hospital stay but, as I could never have guessed at the time, the beginning of a life-long journey.

But you learn from things. Things are fragile. Things are temporary. Things change in a heartbeat. You learn, hopefully, to appreciate the things you have in the moment you have them.

I often wonder how much, if at all, these events play into my life. Would I worry as much as I do about those that I love? Probably. But in the end, the answer doesn’t really matter. These events, like all events, are a part of our lives.

One other story, which I’ve written about before..

When I was much younger, long before the events I mentioned above, long before Sam was even born, I remember a particular warm summer afternoon, standing alone in my living room, looking out at the maple tree in the front yard.

The kids were down for a nap and except for the soft ringing of the wind chimes, all was quiet. I stood before the large living room window, watching as the tree swing drifted gently, almost imperceptibly, side-to-side, over the patch of well-worn earth below it

I remember feeling, suddenly, that I was much older, that I was looking back on this moment as if it were a memory - a memory of a moment long since passed.

And I remember wishing that I could relive this ordinary moment, this ordinary day, just one more time.

This feeling has stayed with me through the years - whether it was fighting off exhaustion so that the kids could go to their socials at their elementary school, or when I was sitting in the cold, drizzling rain, watching any number of after-school sporting events, or when I was sitting in the freezing cold car, late at night, waiting for the team bus to return from an away game - or any number of the seemingly infinite number of moments. It was always, enjoy this moment. It will never come again.

In many ways, that’s what Thanksgiving is for me. That’s what Christmas is for me. That's what any moment is, when we're lucky enough to be together. It’s the chance to enjoy the company of each other - just as we did in the ultimately finite number of "ordinary" moments of years past. And because things are fragile and because things are only temporary - to try and appreciate them in the moment, and to give thanks. 

To Our Valued Customers...

I spotted this sign at a grocery stores the other night. Originally, I was just going to post the photo with no remarks, but the more I looked at it...

First of all, its a sad, yet probably accurate commentary on our obese and/or entitled society, that a sign like this even needs to be posted.

What buffoon thinks that’s it’s actually ok to eat the food in the store before they pay for it - let alone before they make it all the way back to their car. Are people so hungry that they can’t last the ten, maybe twenty minutes it takes to get back to their car, without having to shove something else into their gaping maw?

Even worse is that it must be happening with enough frequency that the store felt it necessary to post a sign to try and put an end to this apparent epidemic.

Obese and/or entitled customers aside, there is also the question of the admittedly artfully designed sign itself. Maybe its projection on my part, but I sense barely restrained hostility in this sign.

As you may have noticed, sprinkled among the semi-normal mix of upper and lowercase letters, are a few key words. Not only are these key words shown in ALL CAPS, but they're also underlined and in bold - just in case SOMEONE is NOT GETTING THE MESSAGE. (HELLO? IS ANYBODY HOME!!!???) See if you can find them.

And, as if that were not enough, there are asterisks on either end of the “BEFORE”. What’s that all about? Have they approached powdered sugar-encrusted customers in the past about this problem, only to receive an indignant response along the lines of, “Hey, I was gonna pay for it!!!”

There’s also the capitalized “Must”. This looks ambivalent to me. Was this going to be another ALL CAPS and they thought better of it? Maybe they felt it would detract from the more important “*BEFORE* and "NO EXCEPTIONS". I guess I agree with this decision - though it would have offered a nice visual balance to that particular line.

Finally, there’s the problematic conclusion. “Thank You, the management”.

Really? Thank you? If this isn’t sarcasm, it totally undermines their message. You just reamed people out (rightfully so) and now you want to be friends?

And then there's “the management”. For god's sake, at least capitalize it! If the "Thank you" before it is supposed to be sarcasm, then don't stop at standard capitalization. Put it in ALL CAPS - maybe even with a few exclamation points at the end. And if the "Thank you" isn't sarcasm, then "the management" should be in a really tiny font (weak).

One last thing I would like to note. For all their effort, the pastry case behind this sign is entirely empty. I'm not sure if there's any significance to this, but I feel it should be mentioned.

First of the Season

I don't know if it's coming across in these pictures or not - but it was snowing after I got to work this morning.

When I was a kid, this would have been great news. The only thing better would have been if it were snowing the night before a big (or little, even) homework assignment were due. Oh, how many times I was let down by the Snow Gods for not dumping enough snow on the ground thus causing school to be canceled ... but that's another story.  (Actually, probably several other stories ... but they all ended the same - tragically).

Anyway, as I was saying, this would have been great news when I was a kid. But it's been a long time since I was a kid (chronologically, that is. We're not speaking mentally here). Now though, for the most part, I can do without the snow.

I no longer have little kids at home who like to build snowmen or go sledding and as for the little-kid-less me, I don't like driving in it, I don't like slipping in it - and I really don't like shoveling it. Sure, it can be pretty, but not when you're trying to keep your car from sliding into a tree.

Nowadays, the only time I really like snow is starting from about the evening of December 24th, say sometime around 4:30 in the afternoon (and that's assuming everyone has made it home safely) to early in the morning of December 26th - maybe even stretch it out to December 27th, if we have to.

Other than that, I'm all set.

Fortunately, today's snow didn't last long. All of it was melted by the time I left work - leaving nothing behind but wet, salted roads  - and the bitter memories of being betrayed on too many elementary school mornings.

Starting Early

Sam and I drove down to visit Grandma on this raw and grey November afternoon. I flicked on the radio and since it was a Sunday afternoon, the choices were either opera or news.

Since I'm not a big fan of opera and since I get my fill of the news during the week, I fumbled around with my phone for something less challenging to listen to. Success! I came across my playlist of kid's Christmas music, still there from last year (and the year before... and the year before...).

It's little early in "the season" to be playing Christmas music (even by my standards) but Sam didn't mind one bit - as evidenced by his foot tapping in time to the music. And that, of course, meant that I didn't mind either.

My (our) playlist consists primarily of music from one particular kid's CD. I bought this CD about twenty-five or more years ago. I remember buying it on a whim, looking for something the kids might enjoy. It wasn't a whole lot of money, even back then. (As a matter of fact, you can still buy it on Amazon for about what I paid for it all those years ago (or listen to it for free if you're  Prime member!)).

I have a ton of Christmas music CDs - choral, instrumental, classical, modern, etc. But out of all the CD's I have, this one gets played the most. This still surprises me.

It's not that there's anything wrong with it - it's a classic kid's type of CD. But I bought it thinking that it might be something the kids would enjoy, for the brief moment in time we were in - and then they would outgrow it. So it's surprising to me that, here we are, some twenty-five years later, still listening to it.

I enjoy it a good bit, but not for the quality of the singing necessarily, rather for the quality of - and the abundance of - many fond memories.

And I like the fact that Sam still loves it - and I like it that in some way, his joy connects him with the joy his brother and sisters felt when they used to listen to it, many many years earlier.

Tonight's Fill in the Blank

A typical fill-in-the-blank conversation with Sam, usually goes like this...

Me: "Hey Sam. I'm going to go to  the field  to  take a picture of the sunset  . Do you want to..."

Sam: "I'll come!"

You can pretty much fill in the blanks with anything you want. The response is almost always the same and it almost always comes before I can get all the words out of my mouth.

Holiday Dreams

Last night, I had a dream. In this dream, it was late afternoon, the day before Christmas - almost Christmas eve.

Outside, a light, powdery snow was gently falling, leaving a soft, thin blanket which glistened in the blue glow of the approaching winter twilight. The once bustling streets were quiet - the stores and the banks and the businesses all having closed earlier in the day.

Inside, the lights of the Christmas tree cast colors and shadows over the otherwise dark living room as Christmas music played softly in the background.

I checked once more on the turkey and I checked the pans on top of the stove, turning the heat down on each to a low simmer. The scent of roasting turkey mingled with that of the tree - and together, they filled the house with a special kind of warmth.

Walking out of the kitchen, I passed through the dinning room, the table already set in anticipation of the coming meal. I walked into the living room, past the tree - stopping briefly to admire the ornaments - and then went over to rest on the couch for those final, brief moments - the moments before the approaching rush of getting dinner out of the kitchen and onto the dining room table.

With the music softly playing, I sat and watched as the occasional strand of tinsel swayed side to side in a dangling, slow motion dance under the glow of the colored lights.

And I sat - not thinking, only feeling.

And as I sat there, winding down, I slowly began to realize... I forgot to do any of my Christmas shopping.

---

I've been feeling the residual panic from this dream all day long.

Friday Night

Friday night was trick or treating - having been pushed back a night by a threatened storm which barely managed to materialize. By Friday evening the little rain that came through on Thursday was gone, leaving clear November skies and a bitter November wind - perfect for walking the dark streets of the neighborhoods on the outskirts of town.

Before we left on our adventure, I gently suggested to Sam that maybe it was time we considered shortening our trick or treating a bit by cutting out some of the "less productive" areas we typically visit. And pretty much like every year that I've made this suggestion, this insane idea was discarded, though not immediately.

Sam's perfectly happy to entertain the idea cutting it short, even going so far as to say it sounds like a good idea. But when we get into the nuts and bolts of it, what it boils down to is that, a) it's a great idea, and b) he's perfectly happy to cut it short - as long as we can still visit all the same houses that we visited the year before.

In the end, all of this is fine with me. But I wonder how long the various houses will put up with a young adult knocking on their door for candy.

And the thing is, I'm not entirely sure what Sam gets out of all of this. He definitely isn't doing this for the candy. His bag from last Halloween had to be emptied of all the year-old candy before he took it out again this year - which, by the way, is the same routine as the year before, and the year before that, etc., etc., etc...

Whatever his reasons, at least it gets us out of the house - so there's something to be said for that. And we get to spend some time together, walking around, occasionally chatting - so there's something to be said for that, as well.

So, the routine is that after dinner and after last year's candy gets dumped, Sam gets dressed in his costume, we both grab a flashlight and then we head out in the car to the outskirts of town.

When we reach one of the neighborhoods, we park at the edge of the long, dark road, and Sam and I get out and walk around. My flashlight is usually off, but Sam's flashlight is usually on - though shining in every direction except where he's walking.

As we walk the dark neighborhoods, we appraise each house: is there anybody home - and if they are home, does it look like they want any trick or treaters? For most houses, this is pretty straight forward. Car in the driveway? Check. House lights are on? Check. Porch light is on? Bingo! Go for it.

If the lights are off and the house is dark, we let it go (and I, at least, make a mental note of the house and wonder silently to myself, what's wrong with someone who can't be bothered to hand out candy to someone who isn't interested in eating it?).

Every so often, we come across a house which is hard to judge. Sometimes, there are lights on in the back of the house but no porch light is turned on. Sometimes, there are walkway lights on, yet the house is dark inside. Last year, we came across a house that was completely dark inside - but it had, not only walkway lights turned on (granted, they were pretty dim), but it also had what appeared to be a pumpkin sitting on their porch. What does this mean?

Sam and I stood in the dark street, staring at the house. After some discussion, Sam thought it was worth trying, so I stayed at the edge of the lawn, like usual, while Sam, with his flashlight swinging in all directions, went up to the front door, like usual.

First, Sam tried the doorbell. Nothing. Then he tried the doorbell again. Nothing again. Then he tried it again. Still nothing. Then he started knocking on the door. I'm at the edge of the lawn telling him that there's nobody home and let's move on, but Sam wasn't giving up. He's still knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell.

Finally, after not getting any action, but still not convinced that no one was home, Sam goes over to their living room window and starts shining his flashlight into their dark house. Whoa! Time to move on, Sam!

Needless to say, this opened up a little discussion.

This year, we again came upon the same house. Like last year, the house was dark inside. Also like last year, the same dim walkway lights were turned on. There was even what could have been the same pumpkin sitting on the front porch.

Just as we had before, Sam and I stood in the darkness at the edge of the lawn, and looked up at the house.

"What do you think?" I asked Sam. Sam stared up at the house and thought for a bit. Finally, he said, "Maybe we should skip this one."

So we turned and walked on, continuing silently down the long, dark road together, looking for more opportunities, while Sam flashed his flashlight in every possible direction.

Tonight's Videos

While I'm out Trick or Treating with Sam, I'll leave these videos with you to fill the void...

I have no idea who Ed Sheeran is and I only have a glancing familiarity with Andrea Bocelli. So how did I come to find myself watching this particular video?  Who knows - but I keep watching it...



Sometimes though, when I get tired or it, I break up the routine by watching this video instead...