Love Letter to Caleb
Our family has been touched again by tragedy.
My cousin Caleb’s mother left his dad, my uncle, when Caleb was very young. We had to wait until Caleb was grown to see him. We are so grateful he wanted to know us, because to know him was to see and know aloha’s true meaning.
Below is the titular essay of this blog, where you can know a little of Caleb, too.
Family Room
Chris painted a Mardi Gras mural in the family room downstairs after Karen and Greg moved into their Loveland house. In it, a girl sashays to the music, her necklace swinging to the beat. Light shines from party rooms down the street. Up close, the corner bricks feel real. For a time, Greg’s first anniversary present to Karen, a painting, hung in the family room, too. For a first anniversary — for “paper” — that’s a beautiful idea. Their family room seemed a good place for a golden anniversary party. Come and go. Say hello. Sit outside if you want. Escape to a quiet room, if you need.
Friends came. In-laws and exes came. Family came from next door and far away, Arizona, Hawaii, Illinois, Texas, Utah, and Wisconsin. Even though Don and Carol were the guests of honor, Phil found the easy chair. They wore tunics, silk dresses, crisp shirts and sport coats, jeans and t-shirts. Greg changed his clothes. Outside the family room, in the back yard, Bill took pictures of every permutation. Cousins, siblings, daughters, nieces, grandkids. Bench, stairs, trees, grasses, sky, clouds. Peggy and Chris took off their fancy shoes and went barefoot like Caleb after that. Greg changed his clothes again.
Karen put a big bowl of M&Ms in front of the big screen TV. She was in charge of the caterers, who brought teriyaki chicken on sticks, Swedish meatballs in white gravy, and spicy tortilla rolls with bean dip. They put extras in the oven and refrigerator, which we forgot for a while. Chris was in charge of the frosty orange punch made of ginger ale, juice and sherbet, but Peggy broke the punch ladle. Andrew was in charge of two cakes — one of three towering tiers, wrapped in blue ribbon, glazed with red raspberries, bordered with delicate dots, and topped with flowers; another made with crunchy carrots and nuts. Perry was in charge of the wine. He laughed when Greg put foam tops on the Guinness Stout.
Don said there were more guests and less time to visit than he expected. One friend came with his wife. After saying hello, they made themselves comfortable in the family room, visiting with other guests. When it was time to go, they teased the happy couple, “Thanks for the conversation.”
Jeremy played the ukulele. When there were too many people in the family room, he and Caleb took two carloads to the go-cart track. Although they knew how to get there, no one seemed to know where they were, except that Michael said they saw an eagle there. Janelle giggled when someone said Helen took too many pictures while she drove her go-cart, and Sharon caused a pile-up.
On the TV, behind the bowl of M&Ms, Teresa showed a music video she made using photos showing the early years; November 7, 1959; all the girls; travels; and the grandkids. Upstairs, Karen had filled a wall with ten of those photos.
After that, Don and Carol lit the anniversary candle and cut the cake. Some people ate cake with a spoon when the forks ran out. Then, Peggy and Karen and Greg scavenged for forks, washing them to reuse them, at least, until the carrot cake was all gone.
Guests asked again to watch the movie starring Don and Carol, with supporting characters Peg, Chris, Karen, Teresa, Mark, Matt, Greg, Perry, and . . . Ron, Sam, Michael, Paige, Carter, Matthew, Brandon, and Mandy.
By twilight, friends had gone, taking a shortbread cookie, frosted a blue 50th on white, for a party favor. Kyra and Sara had already taken many shortbread cookies, since they were at the right height for small arms and hands.
After a futile search of the family room, and the rest of the house, for the lost remote, Carter and Tammy and others played “Catch Phrase” instead of “Scene It.” Hot potato meets Taboo. Tick-tick, tick-tick, tick-tick. BUZZ.
Then Carol made a small circle of chairs near Edith, announcing she would open cards, some of which came with gifts or $50 bills because a few guests simply refused to follow instructions.
As the caterers came to collect their satiny blue tablecloths, platters and serving trays, everyone helped clean the family room. Greg was in charge of the trash. While everyone else was busy in the family room, Matt decorated Don and Carol’s Grand Caravan with window paint.
“Just married — 50 years ago.”
It’s 10:10 p.m. and Sam is out frog hunting
This little guy is singing in the flower bed somewhere ….
Overheard in the Wolfe House #170
Sam: Now that I’m an adult, sometimes disability services go bankrupt.
Peggy: I had not thought of that before but you are right.
Sam: That means I’m on my own.
If you gave up chocolate for Lent …
Here is a great way to savor the return.
Big Chocolate Blobs
2 oz. unsweetened chocolate
6 oz. semisweet chocolate
3 oz. unsalted butter
1/4 c. flour
1/4 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
2 eggs
3/4 c. white sugar
2 tsp. instant coffee or espresso
2 tsp. vanilla
6 oz. chocolate chunks
4 oz. walnuts
4 oz. pecans
Prepare cookie sheets with parchment. Melt chocolate and butter in microwave, stir and let cool slightly. Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. Beat eggs, sugar, coffee and vanilla at high sped then switch to low speed and mix in chocolate, and then flour mixture, just til blended. Stir in chocolate chunks and nuts.
Using a cookie scoop, drop about 1 tablespoon of dough for each cookie, about nine per pan.
Bake for 16 to 17 minutes at 350 degrees. Do not over bake. Slide the parchment onto a cooling rack and remove the cookies after fully cooled.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #169
Peggy: That’s a brand-new baby over there. Do you want to go see?
Sam: I’m not going anywhere near that baby. (pauses) I’ll just scare it.
Random Thoughts from the Grassland Half
There are people who can run 37 more miles than you and still get to the finish line before you do. The last mile is longer than the first four. Stay far ahead of the guy whose t-shirt says “Pappa Joe.” The LBJ Grasslands are not flat — as in, climb every mountain; ford every stream. Don’t run up a hill unless you can see the top. Trail runners will tell you “good job” even when you’re walking. Compressors are just as loud on the prairie as they are next to your house. The Grasslands are also flammable. Don’t get between a mamma cow and her calf. Try not to think about all the wild hog tracks you are following. You learned the best survival lessons in kindergarten: carry jelly beans and eat the peanut butter crackers at the aid station.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #168
Sam: I’m reading about an OS that can run your lights and ceiling fans and other household appliances and stuff.
Peggy: You mean, like ‘The Clapper’?
Sam: What’s a clapper?
Disappearing stairs and the washing machine
When I was a little girl, I had a recurring nightmare that always began in the basement of our townhouse (We lived in Milwaukee. Townhouses had basements.)
My mother would be sorting laundry and putting on another load, and I would be playing nearby. Then, I would become preoccupied and not notice that my mother was done and heading back up the stairs.
Now, in the rules in my dreams, I’m supposed to go up the stairs first, with my mother behind me. Because if I didn’t, then the stairs would disappear underneath my feet and I wouldn’t be able to get safely back up.
Stuck in the basement, I would have to deal with the washing machine, which would stop being an inanimate object and become a monster. That’s usually when I would wake my 8-year-old self up and try to dream about something else when I fell back asleep. Usually, it worked.
As I grew up, I learned to fly above disappearing stairs in my dreams. That felt kind of cool. Then no matter when stairs showed up in my dreams, I was always flying over them, grounding myself at the last minute, before I “fell.”
Sometimes, when you’re little, I think you have a better handle on the world than you do as you age.
Waiting for the cable guy
Yesterday, I had the pleasure of calling Tom “Smitty” Smith for a story I was working on. He’s with the Texas office of Public Citizen and I always learn something when I talk to him.
He wasn’t in the office. He was at home, waiting for the cable guy. It had been a long wait, and we laughed about how it’s always that way. I shared the little known fact that the actor (Daniel Whitney) created his Larry The Cable Guy by calling into radio shows.
Sam is a huge fan of Larry the Cable Guy, though not from his stand-up or his movies, but as Mater in Cars and Cars 2. During his sophomore year, he wanted to do his final paper for a film history class on Larry the Cable Guy. His humanities professor was reluctant, I could tell. He said his subject had to have made at least three movies. Lucky for Sam, Witless Protection was coming out. I showed him the IMDB web site, and he found some older movies, one of which was at the library, so he was in business.
Sam really went after that paper. He researched the actor’s biography and the nature of comedy. His critical thinking grew in the course of researching and writing that paper.
I’d learned long ago that when Sam is motivated about a topic, he will learn as well or better than any other student doing the same work in a more traditional way.
His analysis of the actor and his work almost had me respecting the guy for his talents. And then I remembered all the fart jokes.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #167
Sam: (after describing overhearing a co-worker tell a manager he wouldn’t be able to work the next day) … and I wanted to tell you that I might be working tonight, because I’m getting better at seeing context around me.
Peggy: That is awesome.