FAR TOO SOON

Tonight, I received an email from Arbor notifying me and other members of the community that the mom of one of Nicholas' classmates passed away from a short struggle with breast cancer.  She was a few years older than me and leaves behind a second grader, a kindergartner, a toddler, and a devoted husband.

I did not know this mother well.  I had only met her once or twice, but I was always struck by her devotion to her kids and her sense of the importance of the here and now.  Her daughter is very bright and driven, and I think I know from whom she gets those attributes.  This mom will be missed.

I lose patients every month, and it never gets easier or less painful. Most of these men are in their 60s or 70s, and they have lived long, full lives. Their children are grown, and many of their grandchildren are grown, too. However, one death from cancer is one death too many.

There are no words that can comfort a child who has to bury one's parent regardless of the child's age.

There are no words... beyond I'm sorry, and I'm here for you.  That is what I tell the families of the patients whom I lose each time.

I also tell them that their loved one is in a better place now, that their loved one feels no more pain, and that their loved one is watching over them.

I know that time heals most wounds, and I also I know that we as a community can help with that healing. We will be there to help this child and this family in any way possible.

Sometimes life is unfair, and the lives of extraordinary people are just too damn short. This is one of those times.

A CAUTIONARY TALE

Yesterday, I went to the Portland Timbers' game with my friend Jason. We parked and waited for the light rail to take us to the stadium. While we were waiting, we witnessed a sad and violent act.  A father yanked back a young boy - no older than 5 - who had motioned to step into the street. Mind you, no car was coming.

The man then proceeded to spank his son and yell at him in public.  The boy began to cry - no weep - as we all witnessed this unpleasantness.  The father ignored the boy and continued to check his smartphone through several minutes of sobbing.  It was the juxtaposition of force and neglect that was so powerfully sickening.

I felt badly for the boy. However, I also felt badly about myself because of the times I have failed to be patient enough or thoughtful enough with my own children. I have never laid a hand on either child, but I certainly lose my temper at times.  It was jarring to see how easily and naturally that father's actions seemed to him and how easy it is to fall into that trap.

I want to believe that that father was having a bad day and that he feels as sick as I do just thinking about what happened.  I want to believe that his actions might yet have a positive effect - on teaching the boy about street safety- and on those like me who will hopefully think twice before letting frustration bubble to the surface.  Life is too short to mistreat one's enemies, let alone one's loved ones.  Let this be a lesson!

BLOSSOMING BEFORE OUR EYES

This weekend our family pitched in at the Arbor School Summer Work Party. At this annual event, families - new and old - pitch in to help clean up and beautify the campus and perform whatever tasks are necessary to get the school ready for Fall.  Nicholas and I helped shelve books and break down old encyclopedias so that the paper could be recycled.  Kathleen and Cate helped in the garden. Afterwards, we all celebrated our efforts with lunch.

More than anything, the day is a chance to welcome the new families and re-engage after two months away. The day also served as a reminder of the swiftness with which times elapses and how much Nicholas and Cate have changed in the two years since he began school there. In almost every way - physically, mentally, and emotionally - Nicholas and Cate have grown so much.

Here is a picture of Nicholas with his beloved teachers from kindergarten and first grade - Lori and Toby from June. Since then, Nicholas has probably grown several inches. He has graduated to playing the mandolin from the ukulele, can almost swim, and is turning into one heck of a soccer player.

Here are some pictures from the work party with Nicholas in various states of action.

Just one year ago, Nicholas was afraid to try to go up the treehouse because he was concerned that he would not be able to come down.  On this day, he suggested we go up and climbed up all by himself.  I spotted him on the way down, but he made his way down all by himself.

Confidence. That is the word that describes this young man. That and kindness and passion.  What wonderful attributes.

Nicholas has truly made the most of the opportunities he has been given, and he has really come into his own.  His knowledge is encyclopedic. His interests are ever-changing. His character continues to solidify and become more steadfast.

This inscription below from the Arbor treehouse captures what has come about in Nicholas - a sense that anything is possible and that he is capable of greater things than we or he could have ever imagined.

Incidentally, Olivia was an eighth grader when she built the treehouse.

Here's to Nicholas, and here's to another wonderful year ahead at Arbor.

A HEART OF GOLD

One of Cate's teachers at school loves to play the guitar and serenade the kids.  In recent weeks, she has come home singing classics like Oh Susanna and the like. However, I was shocked to hear her singing "Heart of Gold" by Neil Young, which is a true classic.  Here is a rendition by Cate as she watches a live performance of the song on Youtube. Her version is includes her trademark raspy voice and harmonic sound effects. Enjoy!

ALL DOWNHILL FROM HERE

The photo below contains one of the best moments of my life to date.

What an honor. It is all downhill from here after meeting the President...