Van Gogh Has Nothing On Us

Aubrey and Libby are the Self Portrait Queens, as is clear from their Facebook pages. However, looking for photos to support and illustrate this theory, I found plenty of evidence that they are not alone. It appears the skill or the need is in their genes….

Lydia and Sadie

Jessica and Sadie

Me and Uncle Dan

That's baby Lucy, long, long ago....

From Idaho To The Wide, Wide World (Or Sometimes The Tough Decisions Must Be Made Knowing That What Is Right Is Not What Is Best For You)

I wrote this about Grace six years ago today:

I just gave permission for my daughter to stay with relatives in another state for a school semester. That will make her visit a six-month trip. Man, I miss her. I will miss her more tomorrow, but the truth is that it will be a terrific experience for her, something I cannot duplicate here. She will have opportunities to see and do amazing things, visit wonderful new places, and meet a variety of interesting people. And putting up with my brother will likely make her appreciate me more.

The arrangement isn’t permanent, which is the only thing that makes it bearable, but the changes she will make will last all her life. I admit that it hurts a little that I can’t provide those things for her, that to gain that experience she has to be absent from our lives here. But that so often is the way it works: that’s just how it is. The selfish part of me wants her on the plane tomorrow, but the rest of me is excited about what will happen. I’m interested to meet the person she will become in the next five months.

Now she is packing for college, leaving more or less for good in just a few days.

We could not be happier or more excited for her, but we will miss, miss, miss her. She knows this will always be home, but she may not understand it will no longer be her home. Like us when we moved out the first time, she will be a beloved and welcomed guest, for sure, but a guest.

She’s been preparing for this her whole life, and she is eager for the adventure. She spends summers away every year, but this is her first time away from family. She knows no one where she’s going. She is understandably nervous, but excitement will win out, and she will excel.

Although I’ve known this was coming, and I know it is my job to help prepare her to leave home, now that it is here I’m still not ready. But let’s not tell Grace that.

Go Grace, go.

Daughters And Otters And A Little Thai Food On The Side

Two of the girls were here today, one soon off to high school, one soon off to college. Another is off to Gulf Shores, then high school. Missing them made me nostalgic.

Riding bikes with the youngest when she was 8, she asked how often I eat at a local Thai restaurant. I had shoes older than this girl, and there she was, somehow, asking about favorite foods at exotic eateries. She proceeded to tell me all her favorites. It was strange to watch her enthusiasm, and how easily she pronounced the unusual names.

She is our eighth child, but it still amazes me how much they change as they grow, how much they improve as they develop, how smart they get.

They're not like, say, an otter. Otters seem to have a pretty cushy life – frolicking in and out of the water, roughhousing with their otter buddies, watching out for angry elephants. But otters never change, mature, improve. They pretty much never accomplish anything, leaving nothing behind to mark their time on the planet. Even auditors do that.

I wanted to say “even politicians do that,” but I like the alliteration, and I’m not sure it is true of most legislators.

Our Town, Our Turn, Our Daughters

I was in heaven. Two beautiful daughters on stage for the college production of Our Town, and everyone wearing costumes carefully created by my beautiful wife, Kelly. It was wonderful, and, as I suppose art is supposed to do, it made me think.

I laugh at lines others do not seem to get, but I also cry freely when emotions are high, and there is plenty of emotion in Thornton Wilder's work. It drags at times, and is too preachy too often, but it makes well the point that life is short and that we better tend to our relationships while we can because even the best ones don't last long.

For example, when Libby Lu is on the ladder with her play brother, having a typical, meaningless brother/sister exchange, I wonder how many of us are reminded of our own siblings, of opportunities lost now that we are all older. After Gracie dies, and she goes back to her 12th birthday and talks with her mother, my heart aches because too often we just don't see the treasure right in front of us, or that used to be right in front of us.

Her line wounds me each time I recall it: "Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it - every, every minute?" Like Jim Rohn says, most of us spend all of our time just getting through the day, rather than getting from the day.

Kelly and I are blessed. Our grandparents are gone, but our parents are here, and we both have brothers. We have children, some at home, others on their own. We have grandchildren. We have friends, we have some level of influence. We have each other. We have time, we have opportunity. Like most of us, we have a life too wonderful.

We realize that. If only we could schedule in a few hours to enjoy it....

Sharpie Shoes

Yes, our girls sometimes struggle with being tidy, as teenagers sometimes do. But you have to admit, they have pretty good taste in shoes.

When I was a kid, we couldn’t have Converse All Stars until high school, because at $8, they were much too expensive for everyday boy shoes. Our Chuck Taylors were the big deal, and just about the only cool shoe in town until Adidas and PUMA became popular a few years later (those are mine up in the banner photo).

Of course, our kids have their pick of shoes, with dozens of brands and styles to choose from, but their favorites are the $4 ones at discount stores. Since they first started coloring white canvas shoes while camping a few years ago, they’ve each made several pairs that show their talent and something of their personalities – and, I think, something of their independence from fashion.

That’s something to be pleased about, isn’t it?

High School With Grace

Another daughter finished high school last night – six down, two to go. Grace is an excellent student, engaged in the classroom, involved on campus, active at sports. Unlike her old man.

Grace took mostly honors courses and finished with a high GPA, in the top 10 percent of her class. I have no idea what classes I took and finished just outside the top 60 percent of my class with a GPA closer to the average number of children per US household in 1974.

Grace had many friends, was liked by students and teachers alike, and belonged to several clubs and organizations. My only friends were Jerry and Larry, and a wildly unpopular guy named Billy Bob who thought he was a radio announcer who interviewed everyone within reach with a cheap Bic pen. I’m unaware of any clubs or organizations at my high school, but Mr. Jackson, my cranky English teacher, let me borrow books.

Grace was the best one on color guard, always in time with crisp steps and accurate throws. She went out for track so she could run for fun and ended up as a pole vaulter who jumped a lot higher than I am tall. She took one tennis lesson and the guy insisted she try out for the school team the next day. She ended up on the varsity squad. Me, I was fifth-string running back on our football team, only because we didn’t have a sixth string. I didn’t play my Junior year. I did play tennis, and was pleased to beat out Jerry and Larry, both long-time players. I was offered a scholarship for baseball, but didn’t pursue it.

Grace earned more than $60,000 in scholarships, which will pay her way through the college of her choice, where she already knows what she wants to do. College never crossed my mind until six years after high school when I was about to have the first of eight children and realized that I had no marketable skills and no education. It took seven years to get my BS and longer still to get a real job. I’m guessing Grace will do both in much less time.

They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, but Grace rolled away enough to plant deep roots in well-nurtured ground, and has blossomed in every way, ready to produce real fruit. Grace, I’m proud of you, you big creep.