Category: Family

Every parent has memorable moments that get tucked away in our minds and heart. I have a file cabinet filled with Raun’s. Today, as he celebrates another year and I think back over his ‘a bit more than average‘ life – it’s the comments that echo through the past:
Two-year-old Preschool Teacher: “We love having him in class, we can actually have conversations with him and he can put all the puzzles together at clean up.”    

“He had a good day today! He only bit 16 times!”                  

Raun spent his first years at Camp Lurecrest, a youth camp tucked away in the Smokey Mountains of North Carolina. In our first summer, I recall several times when life guards would come into the kitchen and ask my permission to take him swimming. “He loves jumping off the diving board, and he keeps his eyes open all the way down to the bottom!” He was one.

During a winter break, the camp installed a six foot, chain linked fence around the pool for insurance purposes. It took exactly two minutes for Raun and his buddy Jonathan to figure out how to get under the fence. The adults stood outside this locked security measure as two two-year-olds ran toward the deep end of the pool. I watched as his life guard buddies from the summer before ran toward the pool, bolting over the fence, just in time to capture two little boys ready to dive in.

“Mom, watch what I can do!” I had just walked out of the bathroom to find this three year old standing on top of our five foot dresser. Before I could take a breath, he sailed through the air and drove onto the bed. “That’s awesome Raun, but please don’t ever do it again.” I’ve been watching and breathless many times since.

Before entering kindergarten, it was recommended that we have him tested. After the test, the young woman who had just spent two hours with the kid walked out of the room and simply said, “Why didn’t you tell me?” He had scored 150 on the IQ test.

“We may have to call the fire department.” It was a Sunday morning and during the sermon, Raun managed to get his head stuck in the back of the chair. Within moments, five ushers stood around us trying to get him unstuck.

“Jeannie, Raun’s half way up the drain spout.” We were attending our nieces birthday party and Raun was attempting to climb up the three story home, from the outside. “That’s nice,” I said. “He’s lived a full life.”

“Raun doesn’t just live on the edge, he hangs off it and holds on with one finger,”  the Camp Director told me after spending a summer with Raun as a lifeguard.

A few weeks ago, Raun introduced us to a gentleman he had met at our local hangout, ManRock. As I shook the hand of someone I assumed was more my peer than Raun’s, he said, “You’re Raun’s mom? He’s a good guy. He’s a Philosopher, Theologian, he’s intelligent, caring and a true gentleman. He’s a real man.”  I couldn’t have agreed more.

Since there is nothing else going on in our daughter and son-in-law’s life this summer, Austyn decided it would be a great time to potty train Emery.

There are a few developmental issue that we are all waiting for Emery to discover. One is knowing when there is too much food in her mouth, preferably before she is choking. The second in being potty trained. At the age of four, these two things put her behind on the charts; but she knows what a sphere, cylinder, and pyramid are, so we’re not very concerned about the other two.

As a reward for peeing on the potty, Emery gets treats. This is great EXCEPT that since the day they arrived, I give her treats for just being cute. Mommy gives her one or two Gummies for her attempts on the potty chair, I give her five for just asking. There five colors in the packages I buy and she always knows which one is missing. I feel this is brilliant and she should be rewarded for her intelligence.

Now that we have connected Gummies to potting, whenever she wants a treat, she says, “I’m going to go pee so I can get treats.” She then proceeds to the bathroom, dutifully sits on the seat which is just her size. When she reappears, she announces her success with hands cupped in anticipation. Mommy goes and checks for accuracy, I reach for the bag and begin counting to five.

This evening as she stood motionless on the deck with liquid trickling down her pant leg, she informed us, “I think my diaper has a leak.” In deed there was.

A short time later, as I was cleaning up the kitchen she came in asking for Gummies… “Neenee, can I have Gummie Bears…I want some Gummie Bears…I’m going to go sit on the potty so I can have a treat…my diaper’s still leaking….”

It was so much easier before mommy got here!

It started with a simple question, “What are the sirens on the side of the highway for? Tornados?

We don’t have Tornados here?

Hurricanes?

We don’t have those either.

Earthquakes?

No, we’ve lived here for seven years and never felt one.

Then what are they for?

High Surf – it tells us when it isn’t safe to walk on the beach… The avalanche of fears continued, forcing his little imagination to create escape plans, survival techniques, and new building codes. Fear left to the imagination is impossible to corral.

I didn’t dare tell this six year old about the nuclear power plant just a few miles away and if we ever hear those sirens we will toast the psychedelic sunset and melt into eternity, he had enough on his plate.

Six, sixty or eighty-six, fear will always be with us. I will refer once again to Dr. Who from whence comes great wisdom. As I watched the end of an episode titled Listen, I wiped the tears as I reached for the remote to rewind. The second go, I sat up straight with kleenex in hand, and by the third, I was kneeling in front of the screen. I heard something that spoke deep within, something that grabbed my soul and screamed “pay attention!”

So, please listen…

This is just a dream, but very clever people can hear dreams, so please just listen. I know you’re afraid, and being afraid is alright. Didn’t anyone tell you – fear is a super power? Fear can make you faster and clever and stronger. 

If you are very wise and very strong, fear doesn’t have to make you cruel or cowardly, fear can make you kind.

It doesn’t matter if there’s nothing under the bed, or in the dark, so long as you know it’s okay to be afraid of it. 

So listen, if you listen to nothing else, listen to this.  You are always going to be afraid, even if you learn to hide it. Fear is like – a companion, a constant companion always there, but thats okay, because fear can bring us together – fear can bring you home. 

Fear makes companions of us all.

Having Emery around is always an adventure. During this current visit we are watching the barometric pressure closely to see what variances affect her the most. I have my wunderground weather map open of the computer at all times, allowing me to quickly access any drop or rise in pressure.

This past Sunday we were going 80 on the highway and didn’t realize that we had crossed through a low pressure front. Emery realized it and within less than a minute went from normal, to coughing, to throwing up. I may not be able to control the weather, but I can try to forecast it in hopes of keeping Emery her crazy high-energy self and not attached to a barf bag.

Emery typically has three responses when asked “How’s your head?” The first is, “It hurts.” If she’s smiling, we expect that she just wants some really good tasting medicine. If she’s sad, we get her that really good tasting medicine. Sometimes she’ll say, “It’s good,” and then a second later, “But not so good.” This response also qualifies for either ibuprofen or Tylenol. A few months ago she was getting medicine to prevent seizures twice a day; the fact that ibuprofen and Tylenol now fill her medicine bag gives reason to celebrate.  When Emery replies, “Good,” and there’s no follow-up, I shout and cheer and jump around the room which requires her to say, “Neenee, don’t do that.” So I stop, but continue on in my head.

This evening she came up to me with a smile on her face and said, “My head hurts.” Using the knowledge I have gained from studying my weather maps, observing her behavior, and basically just listening to her mother, I responded, “I’m sorry, we can’t have anymore medicine. How about a Gummi Bear? Do you think that would help?”

“Two red ones and a yellow one would.”

“They would?”

“Come on Neenee, let’s go get those healthy Gummi Bears!”

We’re making progress!

A few months ago, Emery’s neurologist (not many four year olds can boast of having one of those) confessed that even if it meant loosing Emery as a patient, she would do much better living at sea level. Mom and Dad took this to heart and began the process of bringing to an end the life they’ve known for the past six years to relocate to the West Coast. Of course we all have our fingers crossed that Pismo Beach is their next destination, but time, jobs, and life have not yet shown their hands.

Barometric changes greatly effect Emery and in an attempt to get Emery out of what has already been a very active spring and summer weather pattern, Austyn and the kids flew into LAX today. On our ride home, Liam filled us in on the game plan which includes he and Emery staying with us until Mom and Dad can move all their stuff. According to Emery, this will be “yots, and yots of days”. Liam thinks it could be as many as 100!

It’s going to be a great summer. It’s going to be full of change, adventures, and toys all over the living room floor. There will be daily trips to the beach, lots of pancakes for breakfast, and Emery instructing Hoppy to move over so she can join him at the piano. We may get Emery to understand that we didn’t just put Ellie Dog in the ground, but that she died first. However, today she simply says that the grass in the back yard and Ellie are dead. (I think we’ll just leave it at that.)

I wish we could wiggle our noses, or blink our eyes like I Dream of Jeannie did, then stand back and watch it all fall into place. But life doesn’t work like that, and as I’ve come to realize, neither does God. There’s lessons to learn, tests to be taken, character to develop, and faith to build. Liam’s simple prayer tonight was, “Make everything in Colorado go well.” To that we all said, “AMEN!” Undoubtedly, in the end, everyone will be where they should be and we’ll all look back and think, How did that happen?

…of course that will be ‘yots’ and ‘yots’ of days from now.