~ Capturing the context of everyday life ~
Every Thursday, at Like Mother, Like Daughter!
Fireworks are always pretty. After a strange day where my husband worked instead of taking the day off, it all ended well. We joined the rest of the Bryan/College Station area at the George Bush Presidential Library for the annual 4th of July celebration. A symphony, a breeze, friends and fireworks made it all end well. Very sleepy children and dreams of bursting stars.
My oldest daughter has begun taking French Horn lessons in preparation for joining band next year. She enjoys it, but begrudgingly practices. Last night, we had the privilege of listening to the Brazos Valley Symphony Orchestra. Live. Sitting on the pavement smack in front of them. Watching the conductor ferociously lead his people on, flags blowing in the wind, some sheet music escaping the stand, to be caught by a swift tympani player. In the very back row sat the three french horns players. Emelie snuck to back to watch them perform Copland's Hoe-down and Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. She tried to unobtrusively
take a photo of the first chair french horn player - a blonde female, just like her. She was caught! Nevermind, the kind lady smiled for her photo, her hair blowing in her face, and Emelie is practicing her horn as I type....
Spunky little girls are always funny. These two have been friends since they were born. They push and shove. They tattle like their preparing for war. They finish each other's sentences and stand, hugging while waiting for their mommies to stop talking. Like a pair of kittens. I think they'll be friends for quite a while yet. It should be fun!
|Zack and Curt, way back in something like 1994 or 5?|
Our friend Zack passed away 9 years ago last month. He suffered from Cystic Fibrosis, as did his sister, who passed away the year before he did. Yet, when I remember him, I remember his laughter. How he liked to quote the old testament often, reminding us to "gird our loins" with his raspy chuckle. He was a brilliant mathematician, and a brilliant friend. He was a most faithful Catholic. He prayed for his wife through his last hours and fought beyond hope to make it till their 5th wedding anniversary before moving on to heaven. When he could no longer work, he would sit in front of Planned Parenthood in a folding chair with his oxygen tank and pray. His last meeting with a close friend, just a few days before his death, had nothing to do with him. He wanted to know when he would finally become Catholic. Did he have any questions about the Eucharist that he could help him out with? He was my husband's best friend. He stood up at our wedding. We miss him, but will always remember his laugh and his joy for life.
|sleeping, sick boy. I gave him a mohawk while he slept.|
My boy has been sick with a fever. Too tired to watch a movie, that's how sick. His cheeks turned red and his eyes glassy and he just wanted to lay his head in my lap. Flashbacks to when he was a little tiny boy. Those sweet eyes are still the same.
|Jonathan and his counselor, Jorvis.|
Same boy. Not sick.
Recently, he participated in Camp Adventure, a camp offered by Texas A&M. Quite pricey, but worth every penny. His counselor, was, well, simply wonderful. One night, after a busy day of camp activities, my husband tucked Jonathan in bed. He stayed in the room for a while, talking. When he finally came out, he dropped onto the couch and said, "That Jorvis. He's a good man." Me, being the meddling type, asked "Why? What happened?!" And he, being the man-of-few-words type, simply said, "He's just a really good guy. He and Jonathan had a good talk today..." And that was all. I was content to let it remain. I'm thankful for Jorvis, thankful for good role-models. Because, as much as we love them, as much as we can tell them everyday that they are wonderful and amazing and talented, sometimes they just want to hear good words from someone else. Who's NOT their mother. Someone with no strings attached. Someone who's just a really good guy with eyes to see and a heart to share.