birthday dinner.

Dear Joe, 

You've become a "regular" in our lives over the past couple of years & we're thankful.  You're always smiling, always complimentary of the life we live, and you're a good friend. Lucky you, your birthday is one day after Mason's ... and probably a birthday that gets mixed in with Christmas just like his.

Mason's "Birthday Dinner" has been the same for the past 3 years.  Cashew Chicken, Rice, Fruit Salad, Broccoli, and Fortune Cookies.  He's a boy that knows what he likes and doesn't change things up much. {at least when it comes to food} I think that's why the two of you get along so well - even with the 63 year age gap.

The only thing that has changed about these dinners, is who is in attendance - and that's the funnest part. This year, Papa & Mor-Mor were there, Mimzy, and Patty, as well as you & Patty joined us. It was a great crowd & a night full of laughter.

My mom sang several of her {infamous} renditions of {Happy Birthday} which always brings smiles to the faces of everyone in the room. My next project is to record her singing them so we'll have them forever!  I bet you're still laughing at the songs she sang for you!

Mason got several cards - some even with cash!  I love that he's able to read the cards and handwriting of others ... but at the same time, it's a reality check that time continues to speed on by and my boy is growing up faster than I'd like.

Thank you for making a wish and blowing your way into another year with us!  It was a night that we'll remember forever.

With appreciation for birthdays celebrated and lives well lived -

Lindsay

one week before Christmas

Dear Dr. Trupp,

8 years ago I taught school for most of the day.  It was just a week away from Christmas, and all the last minute wrapping, card making, cookie decorating, candy eating, BINGO playing, and more had to be done.  My classroom was filled with first graders who were excited for Christmas, but also excited for a sweet little baby to arrive.  I had been having contractions & you totally left it up to me if I wanted to be induced.

Oh how I fretted.  I'd call my husband, we'd talk, and then 10 minutes later he'd call me back and we'd talk some more.  All I could remember while sitting in Andee's with my feet propped up was our birthing class instructor saying:  Do NOT get induced if you have a choice.  Well, you gave us a choice and we made it.  I wanted to enjoy Christmas with a new baby in my arms, not in my belly, and my husband was just ready for whatever his very pregnant wife was ready for.

 Little did we know what an entrance Mason would make.  The balloons in the hallway seemed appropriate this year as I remember how hard I had to push, and all the air I had to breathe and blow.  It was a lot like blowing up balloons - bags and bags of them!  Hours later and all the hard work & pain was forgotten momentarily as this sweet little boy was placed on my chest and Ian ran out to the waiting room with Aunt Kirsten to tell everyone:  It 's a boy!

Mason's been a constant source of joy in our life, despite the tantrums, tears, and very strong will.

He's made us proud, angry, overwhelmed, and most of all - happy.

This 8 year old has made me the mom I never thought I'd have the strength to be, and has given his dad one of the hardest working, determined sons he could ever have dreamed for.

I don't know if you remember not going home even after your shift was over.

I don't know what made you decide to stay & talk about cows and chains with my husband, but you did.

I'm not even sure if you remember cheering me on while sitting on the floor of my hospital room as you propped yourself up against the nice, padded benches that are a make-shift bed quietly urging me forward.

I do know that I'll never forget you.

Never.

Because, with your help, I now have a rambunctious, happy, getting-taller-by-the-minute son that has just turned 8.

Thank you for helping me wade my way into soccer balls, pitchforks and silly-string.

Yes, I'm thanking you for silly string ... because somehow silly string reminds me of an early morning delivery 8 years ago.  There wasn't silly string, but there was a lot of anticipation, a lot of joy, a lot of hands-in-the-air {when will this be over}, and a lot of bursts of energy scattered.

And honestly, if I didn't have this sweet boy 8 years ago, I wouldn't have purchased cans of silly string specifically for a birthday evening craze to be held in the yard.  In fact, I wouldn't have even gone down the aisle that has all that {fun} birthday stuff.  So thank you.

Thank you for building quiet confidence in me during each of my visits.

Thank you for being truthful and optimistic.

Thank you for sticking it out with me those years ago.

May you know what a gift you helped deliver into my world - and the world of many others too!

With respect for your profession & dedication to your patients~

Lindsay

P.S.  I'll see you later today for my annual visit & I know you'll ask about my boys {all 3} and well, thanks.

flag football.

Dear Mason,

As I stood at the football field the other day, I couldn't help but wonder if you know how very much you're loved.  It was cold that day.  Cold, dreary, and and the verge of being a miserable day.  On the verge, but not quite. I don't think any day can be miserable with friends like ours.

We don't have many "fair-weather" type of people in our lives, and if they are, they don't admit it around us.  The football field was filled with friends and family that love you!  They were bundled up & definitely ready for a fun couple of hours playing, running, and attempting to enjoy the cold with hot chocolate to warm them up.

This was year #2 of you wanting football for your birthday - and the funniest part about it is that you don't play football any other day of the year.  I think you know that the best gift others could give you is spending time with you - and well, this was definitely some quality time together.

I'm not sure who had more fun - the adults or the kids?!  Either way - it was one of the best ways we could celebrate & successfully send you into your year of being {8}!!

As you soar your way through another year, I hope you remember this day on those days when soaring isn't so easy or when you feel like you don't have a friend in the world.

You are loved sweet boy.

You are looked up to.

You are enjoyed by children and adults.

You are uniquely YOU!

Enjoy being 8 ... because before you know it, you'll be 28 or even closer to 38 celebrating your own son at his flag football birthday party.  You'll be the one cherishing the amazing friends you have and their dedication to making your family's life better than average ... and I'll be frosting cupcakes singing 18 different versions of Happy Birthday just like Mor-Mor does for you!!  {that's my dream anyway}

May you always be silly, full of spunk, and celebrated by many ~

I love you!

~ Mom ~

in a fog.

Dear fog,

I'd be lying if I said that on my days at home in the winter I didn't find beauty in you.  Don't get me wrong - I love the clear, blue, see for miles kinds of days from the windows that face the south, but I've also grown a fondness for the socked-in, can't see my hand in front of my face kinds of days too.

They give me an assurance that I'm right where I'm supposed to be.

Home.

It's like being at my own little ocean.

An ocean of hills and trails.

An ocean where the fog rolls in and then rolls back out.

An ocean in the middle of Eastern Oregon.

It's also like looking out the window of a plane.

Where you can see the peaks poking out above the clouds, and then, when you drop down just low enough, you can see the places that look most familiar filled with that which you love most.

I've taken a lot of pictures this month of your beauty.

And the most amazing part of your presence in my life is that you remind me of myself.

Settled in a place where you know you're meant to be ~ protecting and blanketing life with your quiet presence.

So the next time someone says - I feel like I'm in a fog, I'm going to smile.

Smile, and grin ... and maybe even chuckle because sometimes being in a fog can give you the clarity and clearness you've been looking for all along.

At least that's what you've done for me during the past few weeks.

So, keep rolling with it ~ and I will too.

Lindsay

   

Echo Christmas

Dear Mason,

Thank you for being tall.  I can almost always count on you being in the middle and on the top of any given set of risers.

This Christmas you had a grin from ear-to-ear almost the entire performance.  You sang with gusto and seemed to love every minute of being in front of the crowd.

For weeks you practiced your songs at home, in the car, at night while lying in bed, and even outside doing chores.  Thankfully, you're singing a bit more "on tune" than you used to ... but even if you weren't, this time of the year and your excitement for all things Christmas would be one of my favorite things of 2012.

You and Dax are growing up so very fast.  Handsome, full of spunk, and crowd favorites!!

Your newest friend Tanner is a crowd favorite as well.  He also likes to wear big buckles like someone else I know.  Go figure.

Darcy and Clint made it to yet another one of your performances, and enjoyed it just as much as we did.

We're never going to give socks at Christmas in the same way again, and every time we drink hot chocolate, we'll be sipping it a bit differently.  Hot!  Hot Chocolate!

With appreciation for your small country school and all that it is making you ~

Mom & Dad ... and several others too!

Merry Meadows.

Dear Bama,

We were a day late bringing you your Christmas tree, but then again, it was probably perfect timing.  You used to call those moments when things happen at just the right time & a just the right place "God Winks."

Did you know they happen all the stinkin' time?!  {grin}

My cousin Alycia got married on December 1st this year and we found ourselves in Winlock celebrating a new life together, but also remembering a life well lived just across the freeway.  A life well-lived by you.

It was cold & a bit breezy on the morning of the 2nd, but the rain held off just long enough for us to bring you a Christmas tree and pose for a few pictures.  You know how much Ian & the boys love posing for pictures.  Anyway, I just kept whispering to myself that they'd thank me later.  I think you were whispering too.  And one month later, they're thanking me for taking these pictures.  Go figure.

It looked as though someone else had been thinking of you too, as all of the Murdock and Olson headstones were decorated for Christmas.  Breathtaking and beautiful - just like you!

Your body was laid to rest there in Toledo, but your spirit still lives on.  In fact, when we pulled up to the house at Merry Meadows, it was as if you were still there. The American flag waving proudly and the porch beckoning visitors. I was just waiting for you to peek out the window with a "hello Murdocks" - but the wind whistled a tune instead.

A tune that lead us to the trees.

A song that gave us a chance to bring you home with us for Christmas.

A melody that had your voice humming a joyful noise.

.................

And then Mason found a baseball & it changed to "take me out to the ball game" ... which I know you would have sang right along with!

In fact, you probably would have offered to be his catcher.  You were good like that.

Your home is still peaceful and beautiful and totally you.

The trees are alive and growing - radiating so many shades of green.

The rain is still falling, and the light catches glimpses of glorious drops on each bow and needle.

Thank you for giving us 3 perfect trees this year.

Ian thinks they were the last "good ones" left.

And I'm certain you were beaming with pride when he made two phone calls to say:  I'm bringing you a tree from Papa & Bama.

Yes.  I'm absolutely positive you were singing and dancing as we cut and loaded 3 little pieces of you and took them home to spend Christmas with us.

With love for who you were & thankfulness for the spirit of you that lives on in & through us ~

One who carries your name with pride,

Lindsay