It's Okay To Be Happy

 

Thanks to the hospitality of some friends,

I was able to visit the beach for a couple of days. 

While away, I ate at a few waterfront restaurants, went on a boat ride, looked for sand dollars on a secluded sand bar, looked for Native American pottery shards on a secluded island, went to a movie, sat on the beach, collected shells, watched a sunset, played some games, wrote some poems, and learned a new watercolor activity. 

I had a tremendous time. 

And it wasn’t so much that I was doing out of the ordinary things. 

It was that I was doing them with intention and purpose, 

Fully alive and fully present

Without worry of what was going to happen next.

 

While on the boat, I was feeling the breeze on my face. 

While looking for sand dollars, I was watching my feet wade through the water.

While looking for pottery shards, I was being careful not to step on an oyster shell. 

While sitting on the beach, I was basking in the sun. 

While making art, I was channeling intention. 

I wasn’t worrying about everything that needed to be done at home. 

I wasn’t fretting about everything that could go wrong in the future.

I wasn’t ruminating on death and dying. 

I wasn’t comparing my life to others, wishing I had more or feeling guilty for not having less. 

I was simply present, 

Grateful, 

And happy. 

 

I used to be afraid to be happy.

I used to live in fear of when happiness would end and sadness would strike.

I used to feel guilty for being happy when so many others were miserable.

I used to always wait for the other shoe to fall, 

Not as a natural rhythm to life,

But as some type of punishment or consequence for being bad, 

As some type of game by a not so loving God.

 

As I sat on the beach this week, though,

And I watched a surfer ride the waves as they flowed,

I realized that the movement of the ocean really is the movement of life.

Sometimes it’s gentle, sometimes it’s rough.

Sometimes we float over the waves, sometimes they crash over us.

There are highs and there are lows. 

But there is always movement and always more to come.

 

Yes, there will be days of worry, stress, and sadness.

There will be days of grief and death and dying, and I have no idea when they will come, and they make me sick with anticipation. 

But I know now that they are not punishment or a sadistic game from a not so loving God,

Rather they are a natural part of life, 

Just as happiness is a natural part of life.

 

On this Maundy Thursday,

When Jesus experienced the full gamut of emotions,

From contentment in humble service to agony in sacrifice and betrayal, 

May we experience what we are experiencing, 

Whether it be what the world defines as good or bad,

Happy or sad,

A loving God is in it all,

Working to make all things right,

Rejoicing when we rejoice,

Weeping when we weep,

Commanding us to, above all else, love one another,

And truly experience this life we have been given, 

Even when life is good. 

 

Amen. 

Together

 

I recently returned from the beach with my family.

We were all able to be together for a few days,

To slow down and feel the ocean breeze and hear the waves crash,

To cook together and eat together,

To play games together and laugh together,

To observe life together and talk together,

To just be together.

 

As I sat on the shore and watched my nephews play sports ball,

I watched as they communicated with one another in hand gestures that I’m thinking they were making up yet somehow understood.

I thought to myself,

I wish this for everyone—

This knowing someone so well that they just get you,

This playing with someone so closely that you are understood.

 

Not all families have this.

Not all friends have this.

But when it exists,

Together,

It’s a such a beautiful thing.

A blessing.

Something about which to be thankful.

And I am so thankful.

 

Today, on this Independence Day,

I pray that you will find the freedom of being together,

If not physically,

Then emotionally,

Or mentally,

Or spiritually.

And if you do, I pray you will share the blessing with others,

For everyone deserves someone with whom they can be together.

 

Amen.

Teacher

 

Everything and everyone can be a teacher—

Not a career educator—

But a teacher—

One who teaches something.

 

A few months ago, I was taking a weekend theology course,

And one of the participants dominated the class.

She had a story for everything,

Spoke as if she knew it all, and

Tried to argue with the professor on what he was teaching,

When clearly she didn’t understand.

It got to the point that I stopped listening when she spoke

And instead tried to steady my breathing and breathe out grace.

It didn’t work very well,

But I still tried.

When Joe The Counselor asked about the weekend,

I didn’t respond with the ways in which the professor had challenged me

Or the things that I had learned.

Instead, I spoke about the annoying woman

And how much she had gotten under my skin.

Joe said, “She was your teacher.”

She was teaching you patience and humility.”

I said, “I don’t think I learned anything.”

And yet, I understood.

Anytime we are put into a situation in which we are uncomfortable,

We are given the opportunity to practice the skills in which we are lacking.

 

Most recently, I went gem mining.

I bought the bucket of dirt and shared it with the two kids I was with.

As they excitedly scooped dirt into their sifters and found gem after gem,

I noticed myself feeling unsettled.

They were finding more gems than me,

And they were going much faster than me.

“I hope they’re not throwing away gems,” I thought.

“I bought that bucket,” I thought, “I should get all the gems.”

“What in the world, Deaton?” I responded to myself.

“You have done this tons of times. You have a whole bucket of gems at home that you’re doing nothing with. They are having a great time! They are experiencing the joy of what you love so much. Why are you being like this?” I scolded myself.

“Oh…The kid in you is jealous…” I realized.

And then I was able to soothe that kid and return to the somewhat reasonable adult that I am.

Almost immediately, those two kids and that bucket of dirt had become my teachers.

 

 

Who or what are your teachers these days?

What are they teaching you?

 

Oh God: When we feel uncomfortable. When our thoughts start going into negative space. Help us to stop and be curious. Help us to ask ourselves what teachers are trying to teach us and help us to discern what lessons we need to hear and practice. We will never completely conquer patience. Or humility. Or jealousy. Or anger. Or pride. Or any other vice or virtue. So help us to remember your love and grace as we practice living into goodness. And God? Help us not to miss that goodness…for goodness abounds…even in the midst of our deepest shortcomings and stupidities…goodness abounds. Amen.

A Lesson in Parenting

 

I went to Boone last week with my college best friend and her kids. 

We had planned to go to Linville Caverns on Wednesday, but when we looked more carefully, we realized that the caverns were closed on Wednesdays. 

So we looked at Tweetsie Railroad. 

It was closed on Wednesdays, too. 

So we looked at a hiking trail. 

The trail head was closed. 

So we decided to go gem mining. 

We went to the gem mining place because the website said it opened at 10. 

It was closed. 

At that point, we realized that websites were not always correct and that the mountains must be closed on Wednesdays :-).

But it didn’t matter.

We were just happy to be away. 

 

We ended up taking the girls to the Alpine roller coaster and adjoining ropes course.

We called before we went :-). 

Our timing was perfect.

We were the only people at the ropes course for quite a while, 

And this was very good for the girls to learn how to work the hardware.

 

As Angela and I stood on the ground and looked up at the girls dangling from ropes,

We each experienced our own anxieties.

Even though I knew that the girls could not come untethered, 

I still had this fear that they would somehow be the anomaly who broke the system and fell. 

I’m not sure exactly what Angela was thinking,

But at one point, she said,

“This is a good exercise in parenting.

Watching your children do something new and scary but having absolutely no control.”

I may not be a parent, but I agree with that statement!

 

When we care for someone, it is easy to want to take care of everything for them. 

We don’t want our loved ones to suffer, so we do everything we can to remove difficult obstacles. 

We don’t want our loved ones to make dumb decisions, so do everything we can to steer them clear of stupidity. 

We offer advice. 

We yell. 

We scream. 

We try to do the work for them. 

Yet, in the end, it is up to our loved one to do the work themselves.

 

Angela and I spent a lot of time just watching the girls.

We offered words of encouragement along the way, 

And we gave cheers of celebration when they rang the goal bell. 

We marveled at how beautiful the view must’ve been for them at the top of the structure, 

Unobstructed and far-reaching.

And finally we understood when they came down from the tower, excited, full of adrenaline, tired and sore.

We were happy for the girls,

For what they had accomplished,

And how they had done it completely on their own.

 

Oh God: Help us with our boundaries. Help us to know when to hold on and when to let go. Help us to know what is within our control and what is beyond. Help us to know where we end and another person begins. And help us to know how to encourage others even while sitting with our own fears and anxieties. Thank you for friends and family members who cheer us on along the way. Help us to be good cheerleaders and sitters and listeners, and when we must intervene, grant us the strength and the courage to know how. Amen. 

Pedicab Ride

 

It was 9pm.

We were supposed to meet back with the group at 10:15pm

Rockefeller Center was a ten-minute walk from the meeting point.

We had plenty of time.

Or so we thought.

What we didn’t account for were the crowds.

Swarms and swarms of people,

Moving in droves,

To and from Rockefeller Center,

A traffic jam on foot as bad as the traffic jam in the road,

The only movement by inches,

Pushing and shoving,

Weaving in and out.

At one point, our group got separated.

Thank God for phones or I don’t know what we’d have done.

 

We found ourselves in a little open space around 9:40.

Foot traffic had pushed us in the opposite direction of where we needed to go,

And the only way to get to the meeting point was to go back through the scary crowd.

“I’ll pay for a pedicab,” Heidi The Librarian said.

I agreed.

So we hailed two pedicabs.

They trailed us as we walked a little-ways through the crowd

Until the police could let us through the barriers.

“Can you get us to the port authority?” I asked.

“Yes,” the driver responded.

There was no time for negotiations.

We simply hopped on and then…

Freedom!

 

We moved forward when cars and walkers stood still.

We rode through the streets,

Wind blowing through our hair,

Music blasting and people looking as,

We sang and laughed and had the time of our lives.

We saw more of NYC than we had previously seen.

We made videos and took pictures and laughed in sheer joy.

 

And then we arrived at the Port Authority.

And the pedicab drivers wanted $250 per cab, cash only.

And Jessi The Spanish Teacher had a bathroom emergency.

And the tour director was on the phone, asking where we were.

And cars were honking and people were yelling and

Venmo was trying to load and the director was trying to give directions

And Jessi was missing and

It was time to be at the meeting point and

It was the perfect storm of chaos and stress!

 

Maybe the drivers did take advantage of us.

Maybe they did take the scenic route instead of the direct route.

Maybe we should have negotiated prices.

But we were in no place to argue.

We needed saving.

And they saved us.

 

And then Amelia The Niece’s smile.

And echoes of Feliz Navidad.

And the feeling of freedom after being stuck in that crowd…

 

I’d do it all again.

And maybe this time,

I’d turn up the music louder

For our $500 NYC show!

 

😊

October Whirlwind

 It’s been a whirlwind of a month.

Not only have I taught my regular lessons and attended my four monthly meetings for work,

But I’ve also prepared my 4^th and 5^th graders for a program, taken a workshop, edited papers for a writing competition, and helped with the Fall Festival at school.

I’ve entered art into and attended two art shows,

One of which I volunteered at for ten hours.

I’ve gone to see two musical shows: “Beautiful” and “MJ The Musical.”

Both were good, but “MJ The Musical” was surprisingly so.

I’ve gone to Universal Studios, Magic Kingdom, and Epcot in Orlando,

And I’m going to a Powwow in Baden next weekend.

I’ve hung out friends and helped my mom a little in our newly remodeled kitchen,

And I’ve gone to the car dealership to get a new key for my car.

The one thing I’ve not done a lot of, though, is rest…

And when a germ meets you with lack of rest, you often get sick...

And so I hit a brick wall yesterday and had to cancel my whole day because I was sick.

Just a cold with a cough. Exhausted. No voice.  

But still…sick.

It caused me to miss church in the morning, lunch with my brother’s family and a concert with my sister’s family in the afternoon…

And that made me sad.

But overall, I’ve had an awesome whirlwind of a month.

I feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity to do all the fun things I’ve done.

And I’ve even learned a few things along the way:

 

1)     1. It’s nice to be able to mentally check out and let someone else take the lead ever so often. I knew that I could 100% trust Amy The Disney Lover to take care of the details and get me to where I needed to be on our Orlando trip, so I just blindly followed and felt no stress whatsoever. I was fully present with a smile on my face. And I was happy.

2)    2.  When at an amusement park, it’s nice not to have a schedule. Prioritizing what you really want to do and then just going and seeing what happens for the rest of the day makes for an exciting day.   

3)     3. When planning to walk around 10 miles a day, take blister bandages just in case.

4)     4. Getting a new car key is stupidly expensive.

5)      5, When entering a competition, it’s important to enter the right category. If someone suggests a category and you don’t feel right about it, then go with your gut. Your gut is usually right.

6)     6. Much of western European music was influenced by the music of Africa…yet African melodies, rhythms, and instruments often get left out of the discussion in music education. For instance, the major and minor scales came from Africa. They came to Spain via the slave trade, and the Spanish guitar then spread them throughout Europe. Neat, huh?

7)     7. North America was not some vast, untamed land that needed to be tamed by Europeans. It was a land lived upon and held sacred by Native American cultures. There were people here, living, surviving, thriving and we must not forget those people. Epcot: Do a better job with your American history!

 

The week to come is another busy week.

I’m hoping a day of rest yesterday will propel me through it all,

And that I will keep growing,

Keep learning,

Keep experiencing life…

For I know that it is a gift and

I am grateful.

 

Amen. 

Sit With Me

I happened to be in Barb The Art Teacher’s classroom this afternoon when her last 3rd grade class arrived. At the beginning of each class period, her 3rd graders take part in a meditation moment during which soft music is played and students are asked simply to sit quietly, listen, and focus.

Today, though, something went wrong and the class found itself sitting in silence. After B unsuccessfully fidgeted with the speaker cord and volume buttons, she said, “I guess we’ll just have to meditate to the hum of the air conditioner.” The class moaned. I said, “It’s okay not to have music, boys and girls. Silence is actually good for you. I sat in silence a lot when it snowed because I didn’t have electricity and there wasn’t anything to make noise. It was actually very peaceful and calming.” I’m sure that my words meant very little to the class, yet they mean so much to me.

I began to appreciate silence when I worked as a camp counselor during college, but I didn’t begin to fully understand its importance until I was a student in divinity school. It was then that I started to understand two of life’s most profound contradictions: It is in silence that God often speaks the loudest and Doing nothing is often doing the greatest amount of something that can be done.

Last night as I talked to my mom, I told her that I’d really enjoyed my three days of winter weather. Thankfully, I had power for all but 10-12 hours of those three days, but I didn’t have cable or internet for most of that time so I didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for not doing any work. Instead, I slept on my own schedule, cleaned on my own schedule, walked and played with Bullet the Dog on his schedule, watched movies and DVDs that I normally don’t have an opportunity to watch, and enjoyed the absence of noise and activity that almost always fills my days. At the end of my unplanned winter vacation, I felt like I’d had a true Sabbath. For the first time in a really long time, I felt truly rested.

It’s no wonder, then, that I smiled when I read today’s devotion out of Sarah Young’s Jesus Calling (Kids Version). It read:

Take a moment and just sit quietly with me. Let my love surround you and fill you. Feel the light of my presence and enjoy my Peace. I am using these quiet moments to do much more than you can imagine. Give me this gift of your time, and then watch how I bless you and those you love.
Your friendship with me is changing you from the inside out. I am shaping you into the person I want you to be…

Friends, I must confess that when the power first went out on Friday afternoon and I realized that I could be spending days alone in nothing but silence, I sort of panicked. I began thinking of ways to change the situation, yet after I’d placed candles in each room and made sure that there was enough light for me not to be scared, I found that my heart and my spirit had already begun settling into the silence. Shortly thereafter I drifted to sleep and woke up feeling refreshed a few hours later, and throughout the new two days, and even today, I noticed myself craving silence over noise—desiring the beautiful sounds of rests over the beautiful notes of rhythm and melody.

“Take a little while to slow down and sit with me,” I hear God urging. “Let my presence surround you. Let me give you peace.”

Selah.

And peace.

On The Third Day of Christmas

“JG, why are you still playing Christmas music?” Amelia the 2nd Grade Niece inquired yesterday. “Christmas is over.”

“Actually, Amelia, Christmas is not over. In the church calendar, Christmas actually starts on Christmas day and lasts for the twelve days after Christmas until January 6th when we mark the wise men coming to visit Jesus…although the wise men probably didn’t visit Jesus until he was two-years-old and he probably wasn’t in a stable…but still…we remember their coming on January 6th—Epiphany—and that’s the end of Christmas. It’s twelve days of Christmas. That’s where the song comes from.”

“Oh! I get it now!...I can actually sing the whole Twelve Days of Christmas in the right order…I should learn how to play it on the piano…” Amelia continued happily talking. And when we arrived at my aunt’s house, she did just that. She sat down and figured out how to play the entire song on the piano—silently singing it in her head—leaving the rest of the family to hear only the repetition of notes, wonder what day she was on, and hope that she would quickly arrive at five golden rings since she’d be on the homestretch from there.

Amelia is such a delightful child.

I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve her affection, but I currently hold it and will not complain.

When she arrived in Florida yesterday, Amelia hugged me and stuck by my side as if she hadn’t seen me for weeks. We spent Christmas Eve together.

When I got back to G-mama’s house after going to see Star Wars this morning, Amelia ran into my room and hugged me as if she hadn’t seen me for weeks. We spent a good bit of time together yesterday.

When we went to walk on the beach with the family today, Amelia stayed by my side, held my hand, made up songs with me, and talked with me as if we hadn’t seen each other for weeks. We had lunch together today.

If I’m honest, then I will admit that I wasn’t overly excited about going to the beach today because I wanted to take a solid nap in the World’s Most Comfortable Bed. Yet I knew something to be true:

If I didn’t go to the beach with my sister’s family, then Amelia would be sad. And it won’t always be that way. Amelia won’t always think that Aunt Dee with her super hairy legs is super cool. Instead of sitting on the couch snuggling with me while absentmindedly playing with the leg hair that hasn’t been shaved or waxed since August, Amelia will one day want to play on her phone or spend time with the friends that she thinks are the greatest people in the world.

So I went to the beach.
And neither Amelia nor I were sad.
And when we came back to G-mama’s house, Amelia played the twelve days of Christmas on the pump organ that used to belong to my great-grandmother.
And I watched as a beautiful little soul celebrated the third day of Christmas surrounded by a family who adores her.
And I thought about Jesus once being a child like her—full of energy and life—not seeing outward appearances but looking straight into eyes and hearts of love.
And I smiled.

An Odd Spring Break Adventure

It didn’t occur to me that I could have gone out of town for Spring Break until it was too late to make proper plans. So. I’ve spent the week at home.

I rested Monday.
I took an adventure on Tuesday.
I saw a friend and babysat my boy and girl yesterday. We watched “Big Hero Six.” It was very good.
Today I saw two other friends, visited Massage Envy for a massage, and got stranded in Target during a flash flood warning.
And tomorrow I will…I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll do a bit of nothing. [Update: I stayed home all day and cleaned a bit while watching a “Cold Case” marathon. I also finished a puzzle with my mom.]

It’s been a good week. Nothing overly abnormal except for Tuesday’s adventure…which was, hands down, my memorable Spring Break experience.

Those of you who know me well know that leg-shaving is not at the top of my priority list. The way I see it, there are much more important things that I could do with my time. Even reading these sentences, some of you are probably cringing at the thought of hairy legs. Non-hairy legs are the cultural norm for women; it’s what we are expected to show the world. But, truthfully, it doesn’t bother me not to have clean-shaven legs. I’ve even gotten used to the looks that I so often get—the up and down glances and looks of confusion as to why a female would not have clean-shaven legs.

But here’s the deal: it bothers me knowing that my natural legs bother some of the people whom I love.

And so, on Tuesday morning, as I sat in the pedicure chair of my local nail salon, I looked at my natural legs and wondered: Do they wax legs here? It turns out they do.

Spring Break is a time when people tend to spend a lot of money doing things they ordinarily would not do—visit Disney, go on a cruise, rent a house in the mountains or at the shore, redecorate the house, buy a new car.

“I normally wouldn’t wax my legs,” I thought. “It’s nothing I’ve ever done, and it’s likely nothing I’ll do again. What the heck. Let’s do it.” So I did.

As I lay on the table in the little waxing room, feeling the warm wax being gently placed on my skin only to be coldly and harshly ripped away a few moments later, I thought to myself, “Ouch. This sort of hurts. But it’s not too bad.” As I continue to lay on the table in the little waxing room, I further thought to myself, “This is taking just as much time—if not more time—than shaving. Yet. I’m not doing the work. I’m just laying here. Laying here is nice. Except for the frequent hair-ripping that sort of hurts. But it’s not too bad. And my legs should stay non-hairy a bit longer than a regular shave. And that’s good.”

Well over two hours after my leg-waxing adventure began, I left the nail salon with lovely painted toes and hair-free legs. I was one of only two people in the salon when I adventurously agreed to go through with the crazy procedure, but when it came time to actually begin the process, the salon had filled up and the owner was running run back and forth between customers. Right front leg, knee down. Wait at least thirty minutes while the owner did other peoples’ nails. Left front leg, knee down. Right back leg, knee down. Wait at least thirty more minutes. Go buy coffee for me and the nail salon owner. Left back leg, knee down. Then knees. Then done. Thankfully, I had work to do while I waited. And thankfully, I was in a pleasant mood for my Spring Break adventure.

Sometimes life isn’t full of grand vacations to exotic locations. Sometimes work keeps us at home. Sometimes family. Sometimes finances. Sometimes health. But one thing I’ve learned this week is this: There are adventures around us waiting to be had. It could be in rescuing the dog from a thunderstorm at 5:30 in the morning or buying food for the family’s new pet or losing the Easter eggs that you hid in your own backyard or finding a note of encouragement at the bottom of a pile of papers in your really messy office. Whatever they are, there are adventures around us waiting to be had. And who knows…maybe your adventures—like mine—will result in things positive…like clean-shaven legs.

What adventures have you had this week?

Reflections on a Bahaman Cruise: The Kid Files

I must admit that I wasn’t overly excited about going on a cruise. I was very concerned about motion sickness and about being stuck on a boat in the middle of the ocean. I also had fears of hitting an iceberg and sinking in the Atlantic. It didn’t matter that we were sailing south to the Bahamas.

Before we left port two weeks ago today, the kids decided that they needed to go exploring and that Aunt Dee would go with them. As Aunt Dee recovered from being herded onto the ship with hundreds of people and faced all fears of dying, I witnessed the kids excitedly take in the ship and make sure that I was close behind. During those moments, I received a text from one of my friends that instructed me to have a good time. I responded: “It’s kind of hard not to have a good time when the kids are calling my name.”

And so it was. And not just because of the kids. But with the adults as well. We really did have a lovely cruise. And it helped that we didn’t hit an iceberg…and that a massive stomach virus didn’t infect the ship.

So, now, to my memorable/poignant moments with the kids, all of whom were thrilled to be on their first cruise together, none of whom took for granted what a blessing it was to be able to go:

Jack (oldest nephew): Even though we were sailing to the Bahamas, it was still a bit chilly on the ship, so on our sea day, immediately after going down the water slide one time, Jack and his brothers found themselves scrambling to drink hot chocolate and to get under towels to stay warm. Griffin and Amelia, though not in their bathing suits, did the same. At one point, Jack took responsibility for taking the younger children to get more hot chocolate. He said, “Charlie, get on your shoes. Griffin and Amelia, make sure you stay with me. Everyone stay with me. Okay?” And so Jack took charge of the hot chocolate excursion and he taught everyone to put vanilla ice cream in the mug both to cool down and add more sweetness to their drinks :-). That same night, I sat beside Jack at dinner. He was being adventurous and ordered alligator fritters for his appetizer and a gourmet burger off the adult menu for his meal. The burger was topped with sautéed onions, which he was hesitant to try, but he liked them—as did he like the bit of lobster that his mom let him try. After trying three new things in one meal and eating his way through a truly manly burger, Jack said, through his boyishly radiant grin, “I’m being very manly tonight. This might put more than my one hair on my chest.” :-)

Henry (2nd oldest nephew): As Henry lay in his beach chair trying to get warm on that sea day, Amelia realized that she, too, was cold. Griffin was snuggled up with Jack. Charlie was snuggled up with Gretchen. So Amelia decided to bunker down next to Henry, and Henry gladly scooted over to make room for her. Later that night, Henry was tired and not feeling well, so I told him that if he’d come sit beside me then I’d rub his back. Without a moment’s hesitation, Henry was beside me and I was rubbing his back. Two days later, while docked in Freeport, Bahamas, Henry’s eyes about popped out when I showed him my ice cream cone skills. I perfected my soft-serve ice cream cone technique (the spiral) while at Summer Ventures in 1994. Hen perfected his soft-serve ice cream cone technique (the up-down) twenty years later while on our cruise :-).

Charlie (youngest nephew): Speaking of ice cream, Charlie wore an ice cream mustache, or should I say goatee, for most of the cruise. In case you don’t know, soft-serve ice cream is served at all hours of the day—and, yes, it’s free. But what I remember about Charlie is how extremely excited he was on the last night of cruise. Though I didn’t see it happen, Charlie was invited onto stage to be a contestant in the Hasbro Game Show. He won his event and got to compete for the grand prize. He finished third overall and was awarded a handheld Simon, a card game, and a $20 Hasbro gift card. I’m not sure if it was that experience, the ice cream, or his burning the midnight (9:30ish) oil, but Charlie was so happily excited that he was literally bouncing up and down—and grinning—and sparkling like only Charlie can do.

Griffin (3rd oldest nephew): Griffin loves his cousins, especially Jack. In fact, I think that if Jack asked Griffin to fly to the moon and back, then Griffin would figure out a way to do it—unless it involved getting his face wet and then Griffin would hesitate—Griffin hates getting his face wet. Anyway, on the first night of the cruise, Griffin and Jack sat beside each other at dinner. At one point, I looked over and Griffin had his head on the front of Jack’s shoulder and both of them were laughing as hard as they could. It was a picture of pure joy—a picture that makes me smile as I write these words today. I also smile as I think of Griffin in the gift shop on our last full day. My mom agreed to spend $10 on each kid. Griffin, who loves gifts almost as much as he loves Jack, set off shopping. On his own, Griffin chose a small flashlight. The boy likes flashlights, too. But when he couldn’t convince Jack to get a matching flashlight because Jack wanted a plastic container to put his iPod in at the beach, Griffin suddenly wanted that same plastic container; after all, he hadn’t seen it before. Flashlight back on the rack, plastic container ready to be purchased, Griffin abruptly changed his mind again because he spotted a neoprene waterproof pouch—and there was no doubt that the pouch was waterproof—it said so on the tag. He wasn’t sure about the plastic container, and the pouch was bigger so that he could put more stuff in it. Guess who else had exchanged his plastic container for the neoprene pouch? That’s right: Jack. Charlie had selected his stuffed animal. Amelia had selected her mermaid ornament. Henry had selected a smaller neoprene pouch. And Jack and Griffin had selected their waterproof pouches…which…I must say really were good, practical, matching souvenirs.

Amelia (niece): Amelia is probably the happiest, most joyful, full of life person I know. Throughout the cruise, she could be seen with a smile on her face, enjoying whatever she was doing—whether it be getting dressed, going down a water slide, playing putt-putt, eating, walking, playing with her cousins, talking to any of the adults, watching a show, or dancing just because she felt like dancing. My most poignant moment with Amelia, however, happened on that sea day whenever everyone was trying to stay warm. I had left everyone in their chairs and gone to the back of the deck to watch the ocean. A few minutes later, Amelia came to stand beside me. Eventually, we ended up sitting on the deck, me cross-legged style, her sitting in my lap. As we sat there together, Amelia played with the rings on my hands, or simply held my hands in or over hers. She looked up at me with her wide eyes and slightly freckled nose and said, “Well what about the Pilgrims?” and we proceeded to have a long talk about the Mayflower and Thanksgiving and the other things she’d learned in school. I have no idea what made her think about Pilgrims while cruising to the Bahamas. What ever makes Kindergarten students think of what they do? But I know that I will always remember that moment of having her near, looking into the ocean, no land in sight, talking, sharing each other’s warmth, knowing, beyond any shadow of doubt, that we each were loved.