Back to My Roots

Usually, our family stays home on Memorial Day weekend. The crowds and the weather (doesn't it always rain on Memorial Day weekend?) are reason enough to boycott the holiday, or better yet, to use it as it was intended and visit loved ones at the cemetary.

This year, though, my cousin called with an invitation to go to Christmas Hills to ride. It's a 2 thousand-acre piece of land dedicated to motorcycle tracks and trails. A true paradise. We hadn't been there before but decided to take a chance and venture out on this dreaded holiday.

We had a great time. What an amazing place! I estimated over one hundred campers and motorhomes were scattered over the rolling meadow, and even then, we had no neighbors except for those we had chosen. Out on the trails, we would come across other riders occationally, but I was surprised that at no time during the three days did the place ever seem crowded. The kids were in extacy. Even after three full days of riding and playing their guts out, they were sad to leave and insisted on our setting a date to return before we pulled away.

But to end here would leave out the most important part of the trip for me personally. The most important part of the trip was not the place or the riding, it was the people. We were invited by my cousin, but also joined by four of his brothers and sisters and several of their relatives. It was a true family affair.

I suppose it's pretty typical, but I haven't spent much time with these people from my past since I became an adult. Life has shifted and bumped us around a bit; we've ended up in different areas geographically, emotionally, personally. And yet, when I look at these people from my childhood, I see a raw piece of who I am. In some of them, I see myself (strong family genes, I guess), and in some I see my brother...or my brother as he would be now had he survived. It is surprising how years of your life can be stripped away. In one way, I felt like a lifetime had passed, and the world had changed completely. But in another way, and perhaps a more important way, I felt like everything was exactly the same; we were like children again, but with the perspective and appreciation that comes with being an adult. And it was good.

So thank you to my cousins for making this the best Memorial Day weekend I've had in a long time! I enjoyed the time I spent riding and playing, but more importantly, I enjoyed knowing them again. Sometimes we forget to miss each other, and there is value in missing, I think.

Disneyland Rocks!

Our trip to Disneyland was so much fun! We had a four day adventure, with two days at Disneyland, one at California Adventures, and one at Universal Studios.

Em and Minnie Mouse (after the encounter: "ewwwh, she kissed me right on the cheek!").


Jedi training was a highlight of Matt's trip. Very cool. I plan to post a video of highlights.

The kids are in a cage made of human bones (okay, maybe not real human bones!) on Tom Sawyer's Island.

Grief Management

The theme at our house this week was death. What surprised me was that I was most affected. I thought the kids would fall apart, but they are resiliant little bugs.

On Tuesday Matt and I came home to find a baby squirrel in the clutches of Fern, our dog. Amid much screaming and wresting, we managed to get the squirrel away from her. He was bleeding through the nose...it didn't look good. Still, we brought him inside and gave him some water and a blanket to lay on. He struggled all day. In the afternoon, I picked him up and looked into his eyes, and I could tell with near certainty that this was the end. I wonder how we know when a person or animal is going to die? It has happened to me before. I look into the eyes and see a lack. I think a lack of resolve to fight. It's that point when a person (or an animal) has had enough and surrenders. It breaks my heart.

Where is his mamma now? Does she know or care that her baby is gone? It seems a little silly to worry about a squirrel, but I can't help but think that she's somewhere right this moment, mourning the loss of her baby.

My cousin died last weekend, and mom and I headed to the funeral yesterday. This may seem like a ridiculous sentence, but funerals are not fun. In addition to reminding us that a loved one has died, they usually remind us of our own mortality. And how we are going to hell if we don't shape up soon. Call me crazy, but the last thing I need to hear when I'm feeling sad about losing someone is how I had better get my act together.

My cousin's mom passed away a few years ago, and at the funeral, I couldn't help but think that she was lucky not to have to sit with my uncle and mourn the loss of her only son. It was devastating to watch my uncle... he lost his wife, then his sister, and now his son in a matter of a few years. How is a person supposed to hold up to that? I wish there were a way to re-distribute grief, to take it from someone who has too much and to suffer for them so that life becomes more bearable.

If only life were that easy.