You have two choices when you see this sign on the side of the road. You can avert, or pervert, your eyes.
I have four nephews, the oldest of whom is only five years younger than me. They’re more like little brothers than nephews, especially since I spent so many hours babysitting them when they were younger. They’re all good kids, and most of all, they’re funny. Even when they’re not trying to be.
Around 10 years ago, we were headed on a family trip to a lake in southwest Missouri. Driving down scenic highways in eastern Kansas, we pointed out historical markers, interesting buildings and run-down ghost towns. The trip was full of laughs, as usual, but none could compare to what would happen on our way back. As we neared the outskirts of the lake, a …
I’ll always picture my brother in this jacket.
“I think we’re getting together on Sunday to visit the grave.” I had to pause for a moment after hearing my mom’s voice through the phone. Of course. The grave. The anniversary. How could I have forgotten? Well, I didn’t forget. I just wasn’t thinking about it at the time. All the time. Like I used to. Has it really taken me 13 years to reach this point? More than a decade for most of my thoughts during the months of September through October to not send me into a downward spiral? Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?
Perhaps, it’s been rattling around in my mind, creeping around corners and ducking under tables when the lights are turned on. Whispering to me, instead of shouting. …
A perfect couple. A perfect day. Yes, it is possible.
What happens when a nerdy white boy from Kansas marries a sweet lively señorita from California? When a software engineer says “I do” to an interior decorator? When two cultures mingle together at a beautiful, remote B&B? Only the best. wedding. ever.
My wicked smart big brother Luke was betrothed to the love of his life Luisa at Cedar Crest Lodge in Pleasanton, KS last weekend. And while I’ll always hold my own wedding in a sacred place in my heart, I have to say this was one of the most beautiful events I’ve ever been to. The love was palpable. The weather impeccable. And the decor more than perfect (it deserves its own blog post). The glowing bride walked down the aisle to the sounds …
The girls with their uncle and new aunt.
When my brother introduced me to his girlfriend Luisa, it seemed very strange. She seemed so…familiar. Had I met her before? No. She was from California, and they’d met on vacation in Mexico. So why, then, did it feel like I’ve always known her? Why did conversation flow so easily? Why did I feel like I could trust her instantly? I don’t know why, all I know is that it’s wonderful. Soon, they’ll marry. My two girls will toss flowers down the aisle, and I will witness my brother marry one of my dear friends.
Their courtship was brief, but no one questioned how quickly they were engaged. Their relationship is completely natural, loving and comfortable. I’ve never seen my brother more happy. He’s relaxed. Smiles come easily. He’s found …
No title. No paycheck. Just benefits.
Was it really just six months ago that I walked into my boss’s office, closed the door, and spoke the words I never thought I’d say?
I’m really sorry, but I’m leaving. I’m going to stay home with my girls. It’s just something that I need to do.
I was dreading that encounter, but she was compassionate and understanding. I had to focus on my long-term goals, rather than the short-term awkwardness. Once that was over, I had to tell the girls’ daycare provider. This was perhaps the hardest thing of all. Not only was I taking away a big part of her income, she truly loved the girls. But she understood, too.
Two weeks later, it was just me and the girls (and the occasional babysitter/daycare stay). I don’t think anything …
Her hands have taken care of others for years. Now, she’s the one in need of care. (photo credit: jackchapman.info)
Today, I saw two helpless people, each unable to take care of themselves, each needing someone to nurture them, to love them. One was a preschool-aged girl, crumbled on the floor of her caretaker’s home, sobbing. Her parents had just divorced, and she just couldn’t understand why mommy left. The other, an elderly woman, delicate but healthy yesterday, suffered a massive stroke this morning, which stole most of what was left of her abilities.
Tonight, they’re both scared, both confused. Their worlds have been shattered. In different ways, but still shattered. The ask, “Why did this happen to me? Who will take care of me?”
They’re powerless over their situations. Both at the mercy of life’s caretakers. …