Sixteen years ago today Celeste took pity on me and let me marry her.  A lot, and I mean a LOT, has happened since then, but I couldn’t imagine myself anywhere else, with anyone else, or being any happier.  I was going to try and wax poetic, but I don’t think there’s any greater testament to a marriage than being able to say "Life is great." It truly is.

BTW, the cake was great!

Anyone who needs to prepare for an appearance on Jeopardy! need only live with teenage children.  Invariably they find it much more convenient to ask you questions than to actually do research so on any given night you’re bombarded with questions like:

• "You know that guy Stalin?  What was his first name?"
• "When did the Renaissance start?"
• "Who said ‘Et tu Brute?’ in Romeo and Juliet?"
• "Is pi, as in the pi you use in math but not the kind you eat, spelled with or without an ‘e’?"
• "Was World War II after the Civil War?"

I’m telling you, they keep you on your toes.

My Aunt Debbie recently started blogging and is again proving that compared to many in my family I write like a four year old.  Her latest post reaffirms something I’ve often suspected: she’s the most positive thinking person I’ve ever known.  Don’t believe me?  Anyone who kind find beauty in the Detroit airport is truly amazing:

in January of 1981 we moved to Detroit where, having arrived at the
airport in the midst of a history-making winter storm, I waited with
Adam while his Dad went out to find our rental car. After about 30
minutes I wearily created a playpen from our pile of suitcases and kept
watch for nearly three hours as my one-year-old son toddled, crawled
and rolled around on the nasty cement floor. Our car was out there
somewhere in a deathtrap called “extended stay parking.” Without the
aid of cellphones I had little choice but to wait it out; sitting on
the cement floor of our make-shift playpen and methodically handing out
the last bits of food I’d packed for the trip. Bored, tired, cold and
hungry, I was only slightly amused when I saw Diana Ross walk by
looking worse than I felt. Though our playpen was drafty I knew I
couldn’t change locations or we’d never be found, and I certainly
wasn’t going to risk a trip to the bathroom…

Everything seemed gray; the ceiling, floor, walls, people’s skin. Even
the air seemed pale and lifeless. Having learned the handy skill of
displacement and slightly warmed by the sleeping child in my lap, I
found a temporary respite in memories of better days. The gray colors
surrounding me were the sun-warmed rocks of Stone Mountain. I wore an
old t-shirt that said “RocknRoll HoochieKoo” and my favorite black and
white plaid keds. With hair tied back, scratched knees, and flushed
face, I moved along rock outcroppings…jagged gray leading to more
jagged gray. Many people don’t care for the challenge or starkness of
those kinds of hikes, but a rocky climb does offer its’ own rewards.
It’s not like a hike through a meadow or along a country lane.
Definitely not the same as a slow climb to find expansive views or a
fern covered path by gurgling creeks. Nope, climbing a rock face
requires a narrowly focused view and careful footing. Just what I
needed for my momentary escape from reality. But anyone who’s done this
kind of hike knows that eventually you are startled by a shocking bit
of color. Suddenly a blue or red flower appears in your path. You have
to smile because it’s such a surprise , and you have to gaze in awe at
this beautiful little thing that seems to be growing out of pure rock.
How can it do that??? Well, about this time in my reverie Adam began to
chatter and called my attention to the very present smile of a little
girl. She was too young to talk but Adam clearly understood that she
wanted to climb into our playpen. I looked at her Mom who was Russian,
I think, and crossed our language barrier almost as easily as our
children. Suddenly there were two tired Moms and two dirty kids in the
playpen. The little girl held out a bag of animal crackers. Adam
returned the favor, offering his beloved Cookie Monster. Kids…you gotta
love ‘em. The gray of the airport all but disappeared, melted away by
sweet, mostly wordless companionship. Isn’t it true that we are often
surrounded by loving gifts we can’t see because they’re mingled among
so many other beautiful things? Like the wildflower miraculously
growing on a rock with color stark in contrast to its’ surroundings; in
a cold airport, one little girl’s smile.

Our garage door was inadvertently left open today which gave a bird the chance to move in with us.  It freaked the kids and bird out when it was cornered in Michael’s room.  Luckily it flew the coop so to speak once I got the window open.  Of course I had to take a picture of it on Michael’s pillow before I opened the window.  I kind of hoped it would take a fear-poop on the pillow so I could have an action shot, but no such luck.

When we were in Charleston for Celeste’s grandmother’s funeral I spent a little time talking genealogy with Celeste’s cousin Bill.  He’s been working on his family tree for eons and he had some sage advice for me:

1. Focus on your paternal lineage. If you try to branch out into maternal lineage much past the first few generations you’ll end up with an unbelievable amount of data that’s just too cumbersome to work with unless you do genealogy full time.
2. The DNA services out there are pretty useful and they are interesting if you consider the fact that you have a ton in common with your paternal ancestors.  I don’t know squat about science but he said something about the Y chromosome not changing much through the generations so our Y chromosomes are virtually identical to our male ancestors from way back when.

Last week I revisited my account on Ancestry.com for the first time in at least nine months.  I’d hit a brick wall on the Lowder tree about four generations back and couldn’t get past it with the records available on Ancestry.  I decided to keep trying in hopes of finding some nuggets of info that might help and ‘lo and behold I think it worked.  Long story short, I think most of my dad’s ancestors as far back as the 18th century were born, were raised and died in the Albemarle, NC area.  I’m hoping to carve out a day to go down there and do some digging through the land records and other public data.  It’ll be my first foray into actual physical genealogical research so who knows how it’ll go.  I’m sure I’ll write about it when the time comes.

Michael had his regularly scheduled orthodontic appointment with Drs. Handy and Handy.  About 15 minutes after he went through the doors he texted Celeste to let her know they were removing the braces.  Now that’s a pleasant surprise.  Despite some very sore gums I think he’s a pretty happy dude.  Next week we take him back to get his retainer.

Below are two pics: the first was taken the day the braces were put on, the second today.

Saturday
8:30 a.m. – Celeste and I head over to Krispy Kreme on Stratford Road to get a sweet-fat fix and pick up a dozen of the heart cloggers for the kids.  Spend a happy, lazy hour perusing the paper and talking about our plans for the holidays.

10:00 a.m. – Head over to Best Buy and Office Depot to do a little shopping. Marvel at the line waiting for the door to open at Best Buy, and of course pick the one cashier who’s computer isn’t working when we check out.  What should be a two minute process turns into a 15 minute process, but for once we don’t have a looming deadline of any kind so we just roll with it.

12:00 p.m. – Recruit the kids to help me deal with the leaf infestation on our lawn.  I man the leaf blower, Erin and Justin catch the dreaded rake duty and Michael man’s the lawnmower with the mulcher attachment.  We work pretty much straight through the afternoon in 60 degree weather (it’s December 8!).

5:00 p.m. – Celeste leaves to help Ruth Burcaw run an event in Greensboro for a client.  I pack up the kids plus one of their friends and head over to Wake Forest to buy tickets for the WFU men’s soccer team’s NCAA tournament quarterfinal game against Notre Dame.  After buying the tickets we meet up with the McCormack family (plus a couple of their kids’ friends) at the Ciccione’s on Peace Haven and Robinhood for pizza and sodas before going to the game.  Mac McCormack coached Erin’s soccer team and his daughter Stephanie and Erin are close friends.

7:00 p.m. –  Wake-Notre Dame kicks off and Wake dominates through most of the next two hours of play.  It’s a record crowd for a Wake soccer game.  In fact they had to stop selling tickets and the overflow crowd threatened to spill onto Polo Road because so many were trying to watch the game from the hill that sits between the road and the stadium.  Eventually Wake won the game in overtime and our soccer playing daughters managed to learn a thing or two about the game in between critiquing the various players’ cuteness.  The boys, none of whom play soccer, seemed fairly bored until overtime and then even they got into it.

10:00 p.m. – Get home from the game and everybody heads off for their computers, video games, or to grab some TV time before hitting the sack.

11:00 p.m. – Celeste gets home from Greensboro.  She had a lot of fun helping run the event and she spent a good 20 minutes describing the participants and some of the activities they had planned.  One activity in particular seemed to be most enjoyable, a play put on by UNCG drama students that can only be described as kitschy and was really enjoyed by Celeste’s and Ruth’s crowd.  Celeste said that she and Ruth both felt that the students got equal enjoyment out of it because it was probably the biggest, most appreciative crowd they’ve had in a while.

12:00 – Hit the hay after a very lighthearted and fun day.

Sunday
8:00 – After sleeping in a little we get up, get the coffee brewed and generally start easing into the morning routine.

9:00 – The phone rings.  It’s Celeste’s mom calling to tell her that Celeste’s grandmother passed away earlier that morning.  It’s not unexpected since her grandmother has been in deteriorating health for years and had recently been moved to hospice, but it’s still a shock.  Celeste and her mom talk for a while and then her mom rings off to start calling everyone else.  Celeste fills me in on the details of her grandmother’s passing and then we start to talk about the practicalities.  We don’t know when the funeral will be but we assume the end of the week.  Do we pull the kids out of school?  Yes, of course.  Where should we stay in Charleston? Probably where we always stay on Isle of Palms so everyone can be comfortable.  Who from her extended family is coming?  We don’t know yet, but calls will be made and we’ll find out.  If the funeral is indeed at the end of the week should we stay through at least Saturday?  Probably.  What’s going on next weekend?  Of course lots of stuff because it’s holiday season.  We’ll make the necessary notifications to people that we’ll not be making it to this celebration or that get-together this weekend.  That’s life; they’ll understand.

11:00 – Head to church with the kids but Celeste stays home in case her mom calls.  We’ve traveled so much over the last two months that this is our first time to church in a month and a half.  Lots of "we missed you"’s from some friendly faces.  Feels good and feels just like what we need.  I

12:00 – After church the kids and I head to the grocery store to pick up some stuff for lunch.  Little do we know that Celeste has been preparing a ham and other goodies for lunch while we’re at church.  We get home and end up having our own little "all you can eat" buffet. This is also when things seem to really hit Celeste and she and I sit for a while and just be. 

I’m one for sports analogies and I’ll use one here.  I’ve always thought that it is easier to play a game than to watch my kids or Celeste play.  When I’m playing I have some form of control, but when I’m watching the kids play I can only watch and quietly exhort them to run hard or to hope that they don’t hurt themselves.  It’s the same watching someone suffer emotionally.  If I could I’d take it all for Celeste, or the kids, or anyone else I love, but there’s nothing to do but stand by and help in any way possible.  I’ve been known to say the wrong thing at the wrong time and I try hard now not to do that.  Consequently I don’t say much.  Not sure if it’s right or wrong, but it’s all I can think of to do.

2:00 – Erin rides over to Lewisville with the Burcaws to watch the Lewisville parade.  I didn’t even know Lewisville was having a parade, but apparently it’s a hoot.

3:00 – Celeste and I both have scheduled tennis matches.  I ask Celeste if she still wants to play.  She says not really, but she doesn’t want to leave her teammates in a lurch so she heads out to play at Wake Forest.  I meet my buddy Alex at Miller Park and we play a couple of sets in shorts and t-shirts since it’s about 75 degrees on December 9!

5:15 – Celeste gets home and seems to have benefited greatly from the tennis.  She says that everyone on her court seemed to be punch drunk; they just laughed and giggled at everything and it was just what the doctor ordered.

5:30 – Back to the church for candle trimming.  This is our first time trimming the Love Feast candles and we had no idea what to expect.  Suffice it to say that it requires a great deal of manual dexterity and a certain crafting ability.  Ruth Burcaw provided us with some tutoring on our trimming technique and we sat and chatted as we worked.  It was kind of like a knitting party, but with men in attendance. 

After we were done with the candles it was time to eat all the food that everyone brought.  If you’re not familiar with the Moravians I can tell you that although the church reminds me of the Lutheran church that housed my high school, this bunch eats more than any group I’ve ever seen.  It’s all about food and fellowship, which means it’s our kind of group.  Even better they’re, or I should say we’re known for our coffee, which is apparent when you see the big coffee pot statue in front of the church.

Word had spread that Celeste’s grandmother had died and quite a few folks came around to offer condolences.  I know that I felt good about that, and I think Celeste did too.  We are not used to being in such a close community.  Our church in Virginia was huge, and truth be told we rarely attended.  Now that we’ve become a part of this smaller community we’ve been truly embraced and have become more involved than we ever have been before. I think it has really changed our world for the better, and it is exactly these times in peoples lives that you see its power.

We’ve seen this with others already.  Ruth’s father has been fighting for his life for over six months and it has had a tremendous impact on his family.  It has been amazing to see the church community rally to their aid and to offer continued support.  Of course there are others in the community that are dealing with health issues or the illness and death of a loved one and time and again we see the support offered by the community.  Now that we’re dealing with something like this for the first time we’re seeing it from a new angle and I can tell you that it’s hard to overstate the positive impact it has on a person.

7:30 – Back home and two of the kids are scrambling to finish homework they put off for too long.  Erin is struggling with the proper formatting of endnotes for a language arts project and Justin is trying to squeeze by with minimal effort on a language arts project that he’s already gotten in trouble over. Michael is done with his homework so he’s trying to single handedly set up the Christmas decorations in the house.  Justin wants to help so he bails on his project too early; Celeste catches him and sits him back down.  Eventually he does finish and he and Michael continue working on decorations, until they discover that none of the tree lights are working.  Looks like a trip to Target will be in the offing this week.

The combination of the tennis and the candle trimming seems to have helped Celeste.  She’s still obviously feeling pretty crappy, but time with friends has definitely helped.

9:00 – Justin, Erin and Celeste hit the hay.  Michael sits with me and watches the Tivo’d version of 60 Minutes with me.  He’s a big Ladainian Tomlinson fan and the show had a feature on the Chargers’ running back and a piece on the endangered mountain gorillas in the Congo that he wanted to watch. It’s a nice time to just sit there, the two of us.

10:00 – Michael and I hit the hay.

That’s life.