Cousins

Today I downloaded several hundred pictures from an old camera to my new laptop.  It's been a while since I'd looked at what was on that camera, so I took some time to reminisce and look at pictures from the last four years. It was a fun trip down memory lane. I've always loved looking at pictures, remembering happy times, special occasions, and just plain everyday moments from my life.

I scrolled through the last four years, organizing and editing as I went. There were twinges of sadness as I looked at the many pictures of me with my sisters, but I refused to let myself linger on any one picture or memory too long. Then I came to this picture and the floodgates opened. It was taken the morning after my sister's funeral. The spray of flowers on the coffee table had been on her casket. The children are my nieces and nephews, playing a game of Risk. It's a picture that captures so much, but what I love is that it shows them just being together - being children - yet unknowingly and wordlessly supporting each other during a sad, confusing time.  

I adore all of my cousins. Maybe because to me they're like siblings, but better. There's all the silliness of shared fun and games, whispered plans for coups against parental authority, and shared confidences, but without the kind of rivalry and fighting that happens between brothers and sisters. 

During most of my childhood, my paternal cousins lived near me in Utah. We saw each other often. There were Sunday evening outings together to get ice cream, gatherings at our grandparent's house, birthday celebrations, Christmas Eve parties, Thanksgiving dinners, camping trips, and frequent sleepovers with my two sisters and I and our three female cousins closest in age to us. A one night sleepover during the summer would often turn into several nights in a row.  

My mom was from Colorado so my maternal cousins lived in Colorado, but we also saw each other very regularly. My cousin Michelle is closest in age to me, older by just ten months. During our younger years when I'd first show up in Colorado for a visit, I always felt a little shy around Michelle. It would usually take us a few hours for me to warm up to her. She was always anxious and ready to play the instant I showed up! Her energy, confidence and silliness was more than a little intimidating to me back then. I don't remember exactly when that changed. I just know that I began to adore her at a very young age, and I've never stopped.  

Even as a child, Michelle had a quick wit. She loved to tease and have fun, while I was always more reserved and quiet. She was always the leader, and I was her willing follower. It didn't take much to make us both break into fits of giggles. We were probably very obnoxious to everyone around us for years! When something was funny to us it could take on a life of its own. We had silly names for each other and everyone around us. We had so many inside jokes I'm sure much of what we said didn't make sense to anyone.  

Michelle & I wearing our mom's old dance formals.

Manitou photo booth silliness.

Pie on our faces.

Goofing off for the camera.

When we were older, the two of us, along with my older brother and our cousins Mike and Tony, would sometimes stay together at our Grandma and Grandpa French's house. We would tease and torment each other without mercy. Our days were spent plotting tricks and pranks to play on the boys, and they did the same in return. We all used to sneak down to the river and play in the water for hours, even though our grandma had forbidden us to go near there.  

As teenagers, Michelle and I had a special knack for irritating and embarrassing my older brother. Walking around the block with towels draped over our heads pretending to be nuns completely cracked us up and mortified him. The more he demanded we stop, the more we would do it. We also liked to put on our mother's old formals and traipse around the neighborhood, acting as if it was completely normal. One summer, we battled my brother almost daily for a week with water fights. Actually, it was more of an all out war. We stopped at nothing, including spraying the hose full force into the house through open windows and doors. Amazingly, when my mom came home from work to find the carpets soggy, I don't think she even yelled at us.  

Through the years of laughter, double dating, pranks, teasing our younger sisters and brothers, teenage rebellion and more, our bond grew. As young adults our lives took very different directions and we saw each other less. When we did see each other though, we always picked up as if we'd never been apart. My love for her isn't something I've ever spent much time consciously thinking about. I just know that she's there for me - through thick and thin and without judgement - no matter what, as I am for her.  

Michelle and I - 2010

Another inside joke.  Trust me, this picture is hilarious to the two of us.

The day Julie died, Michelle was one of the first people that called me. Even though she was hundreds of miles away I cried inconsolably with her, talking for at least an hour trying to make sense of my shock and confusion. The day of Julie's funeral I was surprised and grateful when nearly all of my cousins showed up in Colorado, coming from California, Utah and Massachusetts. Even my cousin Mike, serving in the military overseas, was there via Skype. That evening, with family and friends gathered together to relax and reminisce, Michelle knew exactly when it was time to stop crying with me and start me laughing again. Laughing with her and all my cousins that evening after an emotionally exhausting day was exactly what I needed. Being surrounded by them brought me indescribable peace and comfort.  

Me with Michelle after the funeral.

Comfort from my cousins on one of the hardest days of my life. 

I think that's why seeing the picture of my nieces and nephews tonight made me cry. I wasn't crying out of sadness as much as I was out of gratitude--gratitude for the kind of comfort, love, support and understanding that I think is unique among cousins. Someday, I can only hope that my daughter and her cousins discover the same kind of special bond and love that I have with my cousins.

Cousins together during a week of mourning. 

Halloween Fun

For someone who doesn't particularly care for Halloween, I sure have devoted a lot of time and energy to it the last week or so.  It all started when Mike decided to be a plague doctor for Halloween.  He found a picture of a mask he liked, and took it to a friend who made one for him out of leather.  Next he needed a hooded, black robe.  After looking online and at various costume shops, thrift stores and antique shops, he couldn't find what he wanted for a reasonable price.  At the same time, he started watching documentaries about the plague (which turned out to be pretty interesting).  The only problem was, the more he kept watching, the more specific he was about how he wanted his costume to look.  


As Halloween drew closer, I finally admitted that I'm a pretty decent seamstress and could sew him a perfectly good robe.  At first I think he doubted my ability, since I haven't sewn in five or six years.  Finally, probably in desperation, he agreed to let me make it.  Here's a picture of him in his costume.  

Next on the Halloween fun agenda was getting pumpkins for Gillian and Isaac to carve.  Originally we'd planned to take them to a pumpkin patch with a corn maze and make an afternoon of it.  Costume sewing took priority though, plus neither of the kids acted too excited about going.  They mostly cared about carving.  We took them to my favorite local produce stand to pick out their pumpkins.  Below are some pictures from that afternoon.  Isaac hadn't ever carved a Halloween pumpkin before, and wanted to find a sizable one to work with, which he did.

Isaac teasing an oblivious Gillian.

Success!

Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of their carved pumpkins, but both of them looked great!


A few days earlier, I'd been inspired by a picture of a cake a friend of mine posted on Facebook.  Gillian and I spent a nice afternoon together on Sunday baking the cake and making cupcakes.  

On Halloween night, Gillian went out trick-or-treating with friends and I was left home alone to pass out candy.  After about an hour, I turned out the lights and headed downtown to spend some time with Mike while he tended bar.  As I drove through my neighborhood, passing crowds of young kids in costumes holding their parent's hands, I was hit with a wave of sadness.  

I'd never again hold Gillian's little hand in mine while going door-to-door collecting candy and showing off her costume to neighbors.  I already miss those times like the year we traversed the neighborhood with her friends who were identical twins, one of whom lost her first tooth that night.  Or, the first couple of years when trick-or-treating was new and kind of scary for her, resulting in tears and begging to go home after only one block.  Then there was the year 7 or 8-year old Gillian was determined not to wear a coat with her costume.  I kept nagging her to put her coat on.  Finally, she turned to me in a huff, "Mom, you're driving me crazy!"  then she paused and said, "Well, not literally, but you are bugging me".  Now my little girl was old enough not to need or want me along with her while she trick-or-treated. Honestly, where does the time go?  

This year Halloween made me more than a little nostalgic.  Maybe I do like it after all.

Gillian - 3 years old 

Princess Gillian with her cousins

3-week old Gillian on her 1st Halloween

Modern Family

When I met Mike he was footloose and fancy-free—an unattached, single man in his late thirties with no children, a rarity in Utah. With my shared custody arrangement for my daughter, I often have four day/five night stretches free from the daily tasks and responsibility of mothering.  For several months we enjoyed days on end of fun, frivolous time together, just the two of us enjoying each other’s company, doing what we wanted when we wanted.  In many ways it seemed like we were in a charmed, protected little bubble. Little did I know how dramatically things would change.   

Most people who know me also know that Mike now has a foster son, Isaac.  Newspaper articles published earlier this year tell the story about how he came to be in Mike’s care.  To read them, click on these links. Expected Step, Fighting to Become an American Citizen. 

Going from being childless to being responsible for a 17-year old boy is a huge change.  Fortunately, Mike is very laid back and pretty much takes everything in stride. Isaac is similar, which is probably due to his upbringing, and the fact that he had to learn to roll with the punches early in life. Things have definitely changed from the early days of our relationship, with more than a few bumps in the road due to the many challenges that come with making the abrupt shift from being childless to having a teenager.  I have to admit that at times I’ve been less than supportive, and have been discouraged by the many hurdles due to Isaac’s lack of citizenship. Not having legal status hampers his ability to legally work, making him dependent in ways most American teenagers his age aren’t.  Along with the challenges though, there have been many fun times and new experiences shared. Isaac is a hard worker, and a compassionate, caring person, who rarely, if ever, complains. He’s also just plain fun to be around. I’ve been able to re-experience many things that have become commonplace to me as Isaac discovers them for the first time.

Dinner the other night is a great example.  It was a pretty ordinary meal of chicken salad with blue cheese dressing (No offense to the cook for calling it ordinary.  Like everything Mike makes, it was beautifully presented and very tasty).  Even though it was an unremarkable meal for us, it marked another first for Isaac.  He’d never had blue cheese dressing before!  Mike teased him about blue cheese being what sophisticated people eat. Not that Isaac cared; he just thought it tasted good. The rest of the dinner was spent talking and laughing about the many new experiences Isaac’s had, some good, some not so good, like the Wasabi peas Mike goaded him into trying.  Those definitely fall into the “Dislike” category, and I think Isaac still holds a bit of a grudge for being tricked into trying them. 

Here’s a short list of just some of the new things we’ve experienced together this past year

• Sushi – the verdict is still out on this.  Isaac ate more than one roll, but he didn’t rave about the meal. 
• S’mores – I had no idea that Isaac hadn’t had them before, which explains his lack of enthusiasm when we talked excitedly about making them around the fire pit one night early this summer.
• Driver’s license – this was more a formality than anything else.  Like most teenage boys, he’s very comfortable driving a car. 
•  Quinceañera – this was kind of a first for all three of us.  Isaac performed traditional Mexican dances at the celebration, and Mike and I attended our first Quinceañera.  
• Stadium concert – The bar may have been unintentionally set a little high by taking Isaac to see U2 for his first stadium concert experience.
• Cooking for a date – Mike taught Isaac his go to “cooking to an impress a lady meal” of Chicken Alfredo with Bananas Foster for dessert.
• Corn in a cup, sliced mango with chili powder and Sopes with cooked pigskin – Isaac treated us to traditional Mexican snacks one evening.  Mike and I were good sports and took one bite of the Sopes with cooked pigskin, but refused to eat more.   
• BLT’s – again I was perplexed at his lack of enthusiasm for this summer favorite using fresh garden tomatoes.  After having a bite, Isaac asked what was on the sandwich.  He’d never had a BLT before!

Isaac performing at the Quinceañera

Me, Mike and Isaac at U2 Concert

Homework Time

Isaac's First Sushi Meal

This list is off the top of my head.  I’m sure there are many others that I’m forgetting.  There have also been some unpleasant firsts.  Isaac had to say goodbye to his dad, sending him back to Mexico with the knowledge that he may never see him again.  He also spent just over a month living in a Juvenile Justice Services shelter while waiting for Mike to be approved as his temporary foster parent.  For the past year he’s experienced so much upheaval and change. His resilience and good nature through it all has been amazing to watch.

For the first time I’ve experienced subtle, unspoken racism.  It’s funny how people are so supportive when they hear about Isaac, but when confronted with interacting with him in their familiar, middle-class, Caucasian-filled environment most pretend that he doesn’t exist.  Maybe they’re uncomfortable because they don’t know what to say? I could go on about racial stereotypes, but that’s a topic for another post.  On the positive side, I’ve watched a friendship develop between my daughter and Isaac, something that’s been very fun to watch.  They tease and support each other much like siblings do. Sometimes, Isaac takes Gillian to the Mexican market for a snack of fresh mango with chili powder. Many evenings they’ll both be at my kitchen table doing homework with the puppies snoring beneath their feet. I love those nights! I also love the nights all four of us eat dinner together, teasing, laughing, and making fun of the cultural differences and misunderstandings that frequently happen with us. Sometimes Isaac tries to teach me a Spanish word, but he usually ends up shaking his head at the futility of it. 


On our first date, Mike promised that if I spent much time with him I’d be pushed out of my comfort zones.  He wasn’t kidding!  I never could have foreseen the many challenges and uncomfortable situations I’ve faced over the last 17 months.  Sometimes I want to go back to that time when it seemed I was in a safe, protected bubble, but I know that isn’t possible.  Life happens, not always the way we think it will.  I’m trying to roll with the punches and enjoy all the new experiences I’m having, but mostly I’m trying to focus on gratitude.  Gratitude for Mike, for Isaac, for my daughter, and for the connection we all share. 


Not long ago I walked into the kitchen to find the three of them with their faces buried in their phones.  I started to say “Is this modern day family time?  You’re together but ignoring each other because of your electronic devices?”  I stopped myself before I said family.  Then it occurred to me. We are a family. Maybe not in a traditional sense, but we do what I think families should do.  We care for each other, we help and support one another, we share the good times and the bad, and we offer shelter from the storm, both literally and figuratively.  We try to instill knowledge and values in our children, hopefully giving them the skills they need to live life successfully as adults. I never imagined this is what getting out of my comfort zone would look like, but I’m glad I took the challenge.     

Mike and I - April 2011

Puppy Love

My boyfriend introduced me to the new love in my life.  I didn't expect to fall head over heels in love that day.  It had been a busy week and I was focused on running errands and getting back to school supplies bought for my daughter.  The three of us, Mike, Gillian and I, headed to Target that evening.  I was all business, as usual, focused on the task at hand, and checking items off my list.  Before too long, Mike and Gillian grew bored and disappeared to the toy aisle to find some fun.  I kept shopping, but they didn't come back like they usually do.  After about ten minutes had passed, I called Gillian to find out where they'd disappeared to.  She told me they were outside.  I asked what they were doing.  "Oh, nothing.  But don't come out here."  What?  Of course I was curious and pestered her with questions.  "Why?  What are you doing? What's outside that's so interesting?"  I walked outside as I was talking to her, looking around, but I couldn't see them. "I'm out front.  I don't see you."  Now I was getting exasperated. I had things to do! "Mom, you can't see us? We're down by the curb, look to your left." I turned in the direction of the sporting goods store and PetSmart and that's when I saw them. They were sitting on the grass playing with a litter of eight Yellow Labrador puppies.  

I walked towards them, determined not to be drawn in by all the puppy cuteness. My determination didn't last long. It only took a few seconds before I was down on the grass with a puppy in my arms. Immediately I knew I'd be taking one home, but still I tried in vain to reason my way out of such a crazy, impulsive purchase. People don't just go to Target for school supplies and come home with a puppy for Pete's sake! Besides, I already had a puppy at home, a nine-month old Shih Tzu-Schnauzer mix named Lucy. Gillian looked at me, beaming. Mike, wisely, kept pretty quiet. I started listing out loud the many reasons getting a Lab puppy didn't make sense. Finally, I said,  "You know I can't make a rationale decision about a Yellow Lab. Why did you even let me see these? I can't just buy a puppy on impulse. Let's go to dinner and talk about it."  

Me with baby Lucy 

The really funny thing is, until nine months before I wouldn't have imagined having one dog, let alone two.  Not that I dislike dogs, I just haven't wanted the responsibility of owning one. That all changed in January when Mike's dad brought home a 6-week old puppy with the intention of giving it to his grandmother for companionship. She didn't want a puppy.  Mike debated keeping the puppy, but his erratic work schedule just wasn't conducive to pet ownership. I decided to keep her, and Gillian and I welcomed 6-week old Lucy into our family. Nearly everyone who knows me thought I'd lost my mind.  You see, I'm just not a "dog person" and suddenly I was completely enamored with Lucy. I couldn't even explain it myself.  

Mike and Lucy Lou

Oddly enough, before Lucy, the dog I'd become most attached to was my sister's dog Phoenix.  He was a big, hyper, somewhat neurotic Yellow Lab with a tail that wagged so ferociously that it could knock over small children. Although he was endearing, his hyperactivity and his lethal tail really annoyed most people, causing them to keep their distance. For years, I too mostly tolerated him. That changed when I began going to stay more frequently with Julie at her place. Phoenix would sleep next to her bed. When I visited, we'd share her bed. This always put Phoenix in a state because he didn't know who to protect. He'd spend the night pacing back and forth, ultimately taking turns sleeping on both sides of the bed, guarding both of us. Eventually, I even welcomed Phoenix into my home, because I didn't think it fair that he'd have to stay in a kennel when Julie came to visit. Julie used to laugh at me because whenever we'd go out, leaving Phoenix behind, I always told him goodbye and said we'd be back soon. Slowly, he'd managed to work his way into my heart.  

Easter morning at mom's with Julie, Phoenix, Buster, Hannah and Mason

When Julie died, I was tormented for weeks thinking about her last hours. It broke my heart knowing she'd died alone. Then one day it dawned on me. She wasn't alone. Phoenix was there with her. I'll never know what he did in her last moments, or for the many hours after when he was locked inside her apartment. I'm sure he was very distraught. But it does give me some comfort knowing he was there with her. I wish I could describe the emotions the first time the family saw Phoenix after her death. It was then that I knew beyond a doubt that dogs absolutely sense human emotion and suffering. Phoenix came to each of us individually and nuzzled us. When he got to my sister Amy, probably the most heartbroken and suffering right then, he quietly climbed up into her lap, looked into her eyes and nuzzled and licked her, burrowing his head into her neck. It was like he absolutely understood her despair and was comforting her any way he could.  

Phoenix now lives with Jason, Julie's former boyfriend and dear friend. For many of my visits to Colorado after her death, I stayed at Jason's. Phoenix would abandon his usual spot next to Jason's bed and sleep in the guest room on the floor next to my side. Having him there with me on those nights brought me unbelievable comfort.  

Taking Sophie home

After our dinner, and my weak attempt at pretending to weigh the pros and cons of getting a Yellow Lab, we headed back to the Target parking lot.  By then I'd admitted this was mostly an emotional, illogical decision, which was okay.  Everything in life doesn't need to happen because it makes perfect sense.  Sometimes the best things happen by throwing caution to the wind and listening to your heart.  That's what I did that day.  I scooped up my fat, squishy, velvety soft, brown-eyed puppy and opened up my heart.  

Not too long ago, I was playing with Sophie, completely caught up in our little moment when Mike  said "You know she's going to be the great love of your life, right? Embrace it.  Enjoy it."  I am.

Me and Sophie

Gillian with Lucy and Sophie

Lucy and Sophie 

Sophie

Babies Don't Keep

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait 'till tomorrow

For babies grow up, we learn to our sorrow.

So quiet down cobwebs and dust go to sleep

I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

When I was young, a hand embroidered picture with this saying on it hung on the wall in our house.  As a child it meant very little to me.  As a teenager, for some unknown reason my cousin and I liked to recite it to each other and laugh hilariously.  It wasn't until I became a mother myself that it became meaningful and somewhat poignant to me.  Babies do grow up much too fast!  Yesterday my one and only turned 13.  Here are some pictures showing highlights from her day.

New warm, fuzzy socks and a robe.

Sushi at Tona for dinner. Yum!  It was Isaac's (my boyfriend's foster son) first time having sushi. 

Gillian struggling with her chopsticks. 

Mike and I

After dinner we went to FatCats to play arcade games and ride bumper cars.

Decisions, decisions...

Gillian's favorite prize? The Big Ripper Whoopee Cushion!

Gillian requested a tie-dye cake with a peace sign.   

Voila! I thought I was done until Mike pointed out to me that this was a Mercedes symbol, not a peace sign.

Much better. 

The birthday girl.

The tie-dye inside.  It looked much cooler than this picture shows. 

 Gillian celebrated at her dad's house with some of her closest friends.  They didn't have to be asked twice to pose for the camera.