five days...

Five days. That’s all. As of July 23, our complete family had been in Decatur for only five 24 hour periods since summer started. On only five nights had we all laid our heads on the pillows designated for us. And for only five days had we been a full “family.” Dad was in England for 3 weeks, I was at Summit for 2, Casey was at camp for 2, and mom and dad hit a choral convention for another weekend. It’s been such an odd summer, but a cool one too because we’ve had to learn to connect and cope with only portions of our family unit. Forinstance, last week when mom and dad were gone and Casey was at camp, TJ and I had the house to ourselves for a few days. It was interesting to get to learn some things just about him…something I don’t often get the chance to do. I watched his ball games, talked with him about his friends, played with him in the rain, and learned that he’s man enough to not only endure but suggest chick flicks every once in a while. He has such a sweet spirit and I saw it in a renewed way during our 48 hours together. Cool stuff…little bro stuff…stuff I should never forget to notice.

So, anyways…5 days…and now suddenly we’re on vacation…relaxing and soaking up the beautiful Colorado air as a family. I love it! Just being in the car together all day for the first time in as long as I can remember was WEIRD, but such a great time to re-connect and tell stories and laugh. TJ told jokes, Dad rewrote state songs as we crossed each border, Casey slept a ton, I read and observed the scenery. Mom did a little of everything…utilizing her regular “little bags.” These are a family joke…somehow she always manages to jam about 15 of them between the front seats when we head out for an excursion. There’s the snack bag, the cosmetic bag, the reading bag, the activity bag, the “I really should do it but probably won’t till I get back” bag…etc. Over the course of the trip these bags usually migrate past us kids (“dude, Cheese-its?? Cool!!”) and into the trunk. She read some Dave Barry to us on the way and kept dad awake. That night we enjoyed quality time by the pool at the hotel and consumed way too much Chinese take-out. Ahhh…vacation.

Since we’ve been here we’ve done nothing and everything…all the normal haunts but nothing seemingly significant. If any of you were ever to accompany us on a vacation, you might shake your head at our rituals and occupations here in the beautiful rocky mountains. But you’d just have to deal with it. The very roads and trees up here carry significance, memories, and adventure for our family. We hike through Tin Cup, the only town within an hour (summer population about 300) and visit the beaver dams just beyond it. We enjoy a piece of pie at the café and look through post cards in the gift shop…the same 45 prints that they’ve had since I was 6. Dad always points out the large safes, which are the only remnants of the booming mining town that tin cup once was (over 3500 people at its peak). We visit the lily-pad pond…which has varying levels of water, lilies, and cow pies each year. We find our favorite scenic spot and take approximately 15 pictures in front of the peaks, which slice the blue sky in the same pattern as always. One of our favorite days is the “Taylor Canyon Picnic” day. On this momentous occasion we travel past the reservoir and down into the river canyon about 10 miles until we come to a campground that mom and her family visited every year when she was young. This river, filled with boulders and fly fisherman is perfect for a cooler and some blankets and a relaxing day. The activities rarely change. Jump rock to rock upstream for as long as possible…fall in if necessary…find a rock big enough to sit on for a while and just reflect. Take a nap on a blanket. Look for mountain goats on the cliffs above. Select a perfect boat (stick, branch, or even tree stump) and throw it in with the rest of the family…race downstream to the appointed finish line…cheer and/or dispute the winner…repeat. Journal and read. Fish. Eat sandwiches and entirely too many Oreos. This day always promotes good conversation and brings out the “frolick” in the parents. Actually, it should be noted that there was some new activity this year…mom and I and dad crossed a felled tree on hands and knees to reach a small island in the middle…quite an adventure! Oh…and it rained during lunch this year so we ate under the protective back doors of Grandpa’s jeep and our van backed together. Quite good…quite good!!

Of course, I have not yet mentioned the fishing, which is a daily task in the streams below our cabin. Groups venture out at all hours of the day to find their prey and enjoy the game of sneaking in on calm pools, dropping a juicy worm into the rapids above, and waiting for that satisfying jerk. Great fun…nothing like it. Nor can I say that I enjoy anything quite so much as the crisp mountain air and the way that you are completely out of breath by the time you climb the hill coming home.

And while the scenery and the activities never change, we keep coming back to this place…it’s a group of people…a stunning environment…a valley of memories, which holds not just stability but something new each time we make the trek. We’ve enjoyed Grandma’s great cooking all week…pondered and reflected on life, which somehow becomes silhouetted by the powerful nature around us…and caught up on all the family news. I can hardly believe that we’ll be coming home in a day!! I think I can sympathize with Dash and say, “That was like the best vacation EVER!!! …I love our family…”

the frustrating thing about Tiggers

I had another identifying moment (actually more like an identifying chapter) in my life this week. I started a new job at an assisted living care center...covering for someone who's on vacation for a couple of weeks and pitching in as I can after that. I seriously need to write a book of short stories from the past few shifts...every moment is one that needs to be captured. For the sake of my memory (and in the hopes that perhaps someday I'll have time to do things like write well), I'd like to jot down a few. Enjoy.

Ida Mae is a sweet older woman who got completely frustrated a few days ago when she couldn't find the number 10 on her telephone. My co-worker tried to explain it to her but she did not believe that the number 10 was two numbers. I'm so glad that it wasn't in the room at the time...i had more than a brief chuckle from the incident.

Walter is the gentleman of the community...he is forever opening doors and watching for people who need a helping hand. he always has a smile and a wave, although he spends the majority of his days sitting on a couch in the commons room watching the same people pass by again and again. He is also quite an avid dancer...we had a musical group come in to play some old war tunes today and he took several of the ladies for a spin. Can you say CUTE??

The oldest member of the group is a sweet little lady, 97 years old just a few days ago. She is a 4 foot 7 ball of determination and a wonderfully precious personality. A surgery that she had a few weeks ago left her vocal chords paralyzed and reduced her to a very urgent whisperer. yesterday she had another surgery to loosen her "pipes" and when I went in today she had taken on the volume and tone of a life long smoker. ...My guess is that she'll be speaking full swing by tomorrow.

Gerry is a white-crowned lady who is a bit more independant. She has a walker but could probably benefit from a speed limit. She does three laps of our hallway every morning before and after breakfast...and whenever she reaches the end of a hall she flips her "support" around faster than you could imagine. She only seems unsure of herself when this walker is not at her side...unfortunately her memory sends me on the chase 3 or 4 times a day. :)

Another favorite pal of mine is a man named Lester...he's the closest thing I'll ever see to a living, breathing Don Knotts. His goofy smile, his gait, his tone of voice, and the little jigs he does on the way up and down the hallways (even despite his cane) keep all of us laughing and energized. How come he has more energy than me at 6 in the morning??

This job is SO different then my work at the hospital. In the place of chaos and files and doctors and interruptions are calmness and coaxing and smiles and long chats in the dining room. I have to give showers but I'm also asked to wait on tables and sit down with residents who are lonely and help the secretary if she needs it. It's less about a well oiled corporate machine and more about a team that does what needs to be done. I love the residents, love the staff, love the change in myself when I walk through the door. I've decided that I'm a tigger. ...that's weird cause I've always thought of myself as a bit of an Eyore...but after this week think not.

...I bounce...

Yeah...literally, but figuratively too. I'm energized by large groups and busy schedules. I like being needed but even if I'm not directly needed I usually try to get right in the middle of things anyway. Is that bad? I'm thinking not totally, but I have had pause to wonder in the last few days. Why is it that I'm not content to sit back and observe? That I can't stand more than a few days of "slow"...whatever that means?

I'm struck on a gargantuan level that while I thrive on the fast-paced and crazy I learn the best from the slow and thoughtful. Maybe that's why I love the mountains and the woods so much...they are the antithesis of "hectic" and yet they are anything but calm and subdued. Hmmm...

So here I am...a tigger...and suddenly I've knocked over a whole line of Poohs. ...Or rather, I've been knocked down by their willingness to keep both feet on the ground and look at the details around them. They enjoy the decorative tassels on the pillows as much as their visitors...and despite the numerous "Oh Bother" moments which plague the older generation, they are generally quietly pleasant. Is there a way to blend these two?? Am I supposed to choose one over the other? Maybe if I keep smashing into poohs I'll become some sort of hybrid. ...For now, I'm content with this experience that God's dropped in my lap...or directly under my "bouncy trouncy fun fun fun fun fun!!"

Blessings to you all...

Reeling

i'm back.


There's this weird feeling...similar to the one I felt on re-entering the country after a 6 month sojourn with my family in Europe. ...this odd sensation that everything I grew up around is strangely familiar but I see it totally differently. I remember the first time I saw a "Super Walmart" with its sprawling parking lots and bustling people. It's not that I'd never seen a building that big...but after 190 ish days in the cramped and reflective streets of England it was a shock. ...that's how I feel...like everything I see is now viewed through new eyes. It's exciting and daunting and a bit freaky.

Tonight we had our first college bible study since my return. We dove head first into some facinatingly frustrating questions that no one could answer. We got way off track but ended up hitting some very intersting convos. ...It was one of those nights where all I could do was hope that somehow God could take the mud we made and allow some pure water to come to the surface eventually. If there's one thing I learned at summit it was "doubt and questioning God are not bad...it is when we cease to struggle with Him that we are in danger."

My family and I spent the better part of today comparing notes on all the stuff we've been doing over the past three weeks. Dad loaded us up with chocolate (the good stuff...not the American crap we get here) and stories of British-isms. We got to reminice with him a bit about our time over there (I can't BELIEVE that was 5 years ago!) and he shared about his choir experience. He had some very interesting encounters, especially when it came to attempting intellectual conversations about spirituality. In light of the fire hydrant that has pushed me along these past few weeks, we had some interesting discussions and got to banter back and forth about the head knowledge and the "real world." I love my family because we have some amazing discussions when we get in the mood. I love that I have parents who care what I think and why...and I also happen to think they are some of the most wise people I know. I also showed lots of pictures of all my buddies from Summit. I've talked with someone from there every day...its nice to be in touch still, I miss them terribly.

I've been trying to slowly unpack my suitcase and my brain...attempting to slowly but surely pull everything out, assess it, and then re-process it as I can. I'm reeling the information back into myself in a slightly more organized manner...reeling while trying to re-adjust to life...reeling at the thought of all that I must dedicate myself to learning over the rest of the summer. I'm jazzed beyond belief but very tired. On that note...my bed is looking quite appealing, I believe I'll try it out. Blessings on your independance day, and love to you all.