The great romance

Time has failed to dim those memories. I still feel every moment, every thrill. There was something so real about that very instant. 

Even after three decades, placing my experience under the microscope of thought, I find the time  before and after fading into blurriness. Yet that razor thin slice of day remains crisp.

Without the burden of responsibility and our own insecurities we celebrated life. Each day was a new adventure and we lusted after all that it brought. Our desire spilled over into our free time and on the playground we explored what little we knew.

Certain things were just given, we didn't question the reasons why. There wasn't any need to do so. In our case, we knew that the boys were supposed to chase the girls.

Was it siblings that put us up to exploring their own fears? Maybe exposure to similar events from media or our observance of the world about. It really didn't matter, it felt more like an instinct, something we knew we had to do.

So I chased and you ran.

I'm sure you could easily outstripped my own pace, yet all too often I found you a hairs breath outside my reach. It must have carried with it as much thrill for you as I experienced when I could almost stretch my arms to gather you in, because it happened frequently.

Finally darting in and about the playground, I managed to catch you. Surely you must have heard my heart leap within my chest. The flood of victory and triumph coursed unrestrained through my small frame.

On wings, together we ducked into the woods as the others looked on. In our innocence and joy, such a hiding place was only necessary to remove ourselves from the jeers of our classmates and the prying eyes of the teacher. Yet our fellows knew, just as we both did what was to come next.

Breathless and now out of site, I nervously placed my arms around your shoulders. Drawing you in, missing were any thoughts of the course of action. Unlike our awkward teenage years, thoughts of looks, bad breath, noses, even eyes, were absent from the situation. It was enough that I liked you and that I had caught you during the game.

Oh what marvelous times, it was simply enough to "like" you. Never in the decades that passed would I feel that emotional freedom. It was loving without the burdens now associated with "love". If asked, I know I would have denied any deeper emotional connection, saying such things were "yucky" but it was the most pure love that I felt for you in that moment. I never wanted to chase another.

So here, with my love, in this wooded spot upon the playground, I found myself holding you. Leaning toward your mouth. You closed your eyes. I don't suppose you remember that, but I do. And in the tenderest way, my lips pressed gently against your own.

There was no extended contact. No impassioned embrace where I held you to me. The instant lingered long enough for me to know you gently kissed me back.

I tasted your lips, still finding the hint of strawberry gloss. I could detect the scent of your shampoo from golden hair. And even the soft brush of your clothing against my hands was sensed.

As we broke away, we stepped back to the reality with giggles of delight. After all, we just kissed and were sure to hear about it for the rest of the afternoon. With the smiling effervescence of youth, you turned on you heel and dashed away.

Then I knew once again the chase was on.

Family

I was sent a video by my mom the other day. It was a "Eulogy" for a deceased husband and it was quite moving. The production value of the piece was outstanding, so I watched all the way to the end to find out more about who made it (hey, sometimes you get lucky and they include credits).

Well the only thing it said at the end was the same as my title for this post. "Family" but it did include a link. http://thinkfamily.sg

So I went to the site not sure what to expect and found that it was the Singapore page dedicated to improving the family unit. I was so delighted to see that they put together such a neat site for what I feel is a spectacular cause. See, to me, family should be the place that we feel loved and safe from the world. I like the idea of promoting togetherness and learning how to better serve one another in our families.

Not to say that people in bad relationships shouldn't leave when necessary and that every family is perfect. See there's this adage about throwing rocks when your home is made of windows. As a single dad, I don't have any right to tell anyone how to be a perfect family, since I wasn't able to hold my own as it were.

I'm just saying that in a world that seems to say because ideals are hard to come by we shouldn't bother, I think we need to embrace the loftiest goals. In my struggle to be the best, I might just wind up really good and that wouldn't be so bad either.

Thoughts from General Conference

First things first. I finally found a way of making sure I stay awake! I have to have my knitting with me and I can put in all the requisite hours of sitting still without nodding off.

Before you judge me too harshly, please understand I get plenty of sleep, it's just sitting sedentary for even an hour is hard for me to do. It's genetic, go to any ward where you find my father or uncles and you'll find them with their head on their chest asleep.

I like to hear the conference talks too. I usually grab copies and put them on my iTunes and iPod, so it's not like I'm not interested, it's just I can't sit still and listen for that long. Why can I sit through a 3 hour movie without difficulty? I don't know! I just feel horrible that it happens.

Actually to tell the truth, the thing that I worry most about is not the falling asleep, it's that I might start to snore and disturb those around me. I guess I should add that to the list of reasons that I really need a wife. That way she can sit next to me and periodically jab me in the ribs with her adorable elbow.

Anyway, there were some fantastic talks. Things that I really enjoyed hearing and things I'd like to implement in my own life. I was glad I was able to be there for all the sessions.

You know those people who can recite who said what and when during conference? I'm not one of those people. You're lucky if I can remember who spoke during any particular session. What I tend to take away are specific thoughts and feelings. I might remember themes or particular stories that stood out.

With the right prompts, I can remember a lot of detail, but just sitting here I probably couldn't tell you much of anyones talk. So don't expect a detailed synopsis of what was said or what it might mean.

What I did take away was the feeling that I need to think about the priesthood more in my daily life. I need to think about how what I do each day relates to my standing as a holder of God's priesthood.

We had a wonderful refresher course on pride during the priesthood session. Once again, I find myself asking what do I need to do in my life to reduce pride and selfishness. What do I need to change in myself to keep from lifting myself above others and follow the humble Savior.

I'm rededicating myself to scripture study with my family. At least one verse at a time we're going to get through the scriptures together. What I'm going to do is to let everyone mark my scriptures with our progress. We really need to get back into the habit of reading together and this will surely help. Couple that with tomorrow being the first time in a while when the children will be with me for FHE and the timing couldn't be better.

My personal scripture study is also going to continue, with greater emphasis on pondering what I read. Thinking of how it relates to me, how I can put it into practice. Those are things that I can do each and every day.

I also want to continue to work on gratitude and feeling thankful for all the things that I have. I really am blessed in my life. I need to make sure that credit is properly given.

It's now my bedtime, so I'll stop here for now. I'm sure there will be other things that I may add, or write about in another post, but this will do for now.

Miles per quart

So a few days ago, I'm headed to work when this riced out Honda gets onto the freeway. Normally I can ignore the little red car with the coffee can muffler, however this one had gone out of his way to make sure you noticed. And believe me, I've never noticed a rig like this one before!

Before I get too far into things, I should mention that I've driven my share of older vehicles. I'm aware that as they age things begin to happen. However I also know that certain things only happen because of abuse or severe neglect.

This number was spewing forth clouds of smoke. I don't mean that it was giving out a large puff every time the accelerator was pressed either. Remember the video game "Spy Hunter" when you would pick up the smokescreen? Clouds of thick grey smoke would cover the entire lane. Visibility in the murk was reduced it was so dense.

Now while I didn't spin wildly out of control, I can say that the breathability of the air did reduce me to a choking cough. I don't have AC in my van and so drive with my windows down as much as weather permits. I wouldn't be overly surprised to find out the particulate matter I was exposed to by this mobile nightmare will eventually lead to a terminal case of lung cancer.

Even worse for me, I was stuck, unable to pass or even switch lanes for over a mile! Thus was my innocent day destroyed by some ignoramus. I say so because it was inescapable for anyone else to not be aware of the vehicular hazard they were driving and fail to have it repaired.

My only consolation was to tell myself that one of two things are going to take place. Either the nut behind the wheel was able to successfully get his doomed Japanese wheels to a mechanic, or the engine seized leaving him hopelessly stranded! I mean really, I can understand burning a bit of oil in an older engine, but when the leak is so bad that you can measure your mileage in quarts of oil per mile, you've gone beyond reasonable.

Because you asked

Softly, so that my footsteps make no sound, I would approach. Gently, my hands and arms would encircle your waist, drawing you closer to me. Feeling like the luckiest man in the world, my mind would reel like an apprentice seaman weathering his first hurricane. 

Standing there, like two perfectly matched puzzle pieces, I'd lean my head towards the nape of your neck. With gentle caresses, my lips would find the curve there. Between kisses, I'd whisper the love that fills my heart.

Pulse racing, I'd work my way around your gentle form. At every moment struggling to maintain the intimacy created by two people madly in love.

Finding your face, my hands would be drawn impulsively toward your skin. With the lightest brush of fingertips, I'd make electric contact with your visage. Sweeping back along your cheek to find the silken strands of your hair.

The pleasure of the fabric of you hair flowing past my hands once again draws me in to you. The pools of your eyes have me drowning, not for air, but for the feeling of your mouth pressed against my own. 

Unable to stop, I move toward the soft lips. Time has stopped for everyone else, only we two are aware of any movement as we are brought into contact. There, we touch causing waves of power to flow through my being. It's as if I could command the universe at this moment.

We remain, arms closed about each other. Unaware of the world and it's cares, we continue, lips and mouths occasionally parting. Sharing together the pleasure of the moment with eyes softly shut.

After lifetimes pass in this position, we draw apart. Eyes locked in love. My heart overflowing with emotion. Eternities seem to crash into nothingness now that it's over, my desperation to again approach the infinite overwhelms my soul and once again, I have to kiss your lips and face. Showering you in the passion of my heart.

Scary things

Everyone has their fears. Today I was asked what was the scariest thing I had ever done. That prompted some good introspection. There have been lots of times when I've been scared, but only a few that didn't carry with them the adrenaline rush.

I can remember the trepidation that I felt the first time I did the brakes on my own car, questioning if I managed to get them bled properly and if the car would safely stop. I knew the fear of being alone in a rough neighborhood of a third world country. While I've not been personally assaulted, I have been in places where guns were pointed at my friends, and even been threatened in a dark parking lot.

Yet all of those just seem to pale in comparison. The absolute scariest for me is asking a woman out on a date. It sounds pretty dumb, but I am terrified of rejection or mockery. So taking that risk to ask someone, who I barely know, to spend time with me in the hope of getting to know her better is the most frightening peril I've experienced.

I'm sure that now that I'm single again, I'm going to have to fight this dragon many times. Alas, I don't know of a method other than cinch up the saddle and take it on at a full gallop. There is however consolation in that the effort is usually quick and even failure represents only some scorched pride.

Why it's so challenging escapes me. I'm unaware of any reason in my past for such sensitivity to this particular situation. Maybe someday I'll find out, in the meantime, it will always be the scariest thing for me to do.

I don't remember signing up for this

So last night I was out doing something I never imagined I would have to do. I was standing in the middle of the women's section of the store; right in the bra and panty aisle with my oldest daughter trying to pick out new bras. To complicate the matter, in order to get everything done tonight, I've had to bring all her siblings along as well.

Can we say uncomfortable?! There are some reasons for this. Some maybe rational, others might just be me. You decide.

First, I had hoped to avoid having to wander around the women's underwear section to begin with. Although I had never given it much thought, I guess I had always sort of hoped that there would be a woman in my life to handle this for me. This means that with 4 daughters and no current prospects, I'm probably going to be repeating this scene at least 3 more times.

Second, as we're here, I have to admit that I don't want to come off as some sort of pervert wandering around in the women's undergarments. Yes, I've done shopping for ladies in the past, but it's always been with someone else at my side. Sort of a safety in numbers thing. My children just don't seem to fit the bill here. It might even be easier for me if we were the only one's in the store, but that just wouldn't be my fortune. There are several other ladies, some probably about my own age, doing their own shopping. I'm trying not to make eye contact...

Another reason that this is so uncomfortable is that I really didn't want to have to explain a few things to my daughter. "No, you're not a B cup and no, you're chest measurement isn't as big as my waist. Sorry, that 36B just isn't going to cut it for you." "No, you really don't need a push-up bra. Why? A push-up is meant to make your breasts look bigger, not something you need to worry about." "No, that one there with all the lace, fringe and matching g-string really isn't for a young lady." "Please pick out something that won't show through your shirt." (remember, I've got the whole gang listening in on the conversation too!)

In explaining to her about sizing, I'm having to admit to myself, and anyone else listening, that I know way more about the subject than I think I should. I don't know if I like the fact that I know how to fit a bra. Sure, it's really not that complicated, and the instructions are all over the place, but I suspect there might be something wrong with me being able to remember them. Some days I just wish I could be blissfully unaware of the complexities of life and only remember things like sports statistics!

At last, she has selected three bras that I'm comfortable letting her wear. When I shop, I'm normally pretty cost conscious. Tonight, I don't even look at the tags! I just want to move into the aisles where my discomfort can safely evaporate into general frustration as 5 children cycle up and down the rows pushing, running, bounding, touching, calling and fighting. You see, after all these years, I'm used to that. As a single dad, I'm a bit better at general rowdiness than I'm ever going to be in the women's intimate wear.