The Best Vacation

     I think this vacation might have been the best I have ever had.  I don’t have any way to measure all the wonderful vacations I’ve experienced before and I can’t be 100% sure that other great vacation might not be better, but these last few weeks with my mom, Chandler, and Sabrina have been cherished.
     I had not physically seen my two oldest kiddos for a whole year.  I last saw them in June 2008.  They had their birthdays in October.  We did not get to spend Christmas together.  Spring Break passed us by.  But with a similar effort necessary to capture a hurdling comet, we took a chance opportunity to fly them here to Wellington.
     I’ve posted some pictures and one small story about an excursion.  I will probably post more.  But what I will remember most is the days and days of endless giggling between all three of the kids.  Gabe, Chandler, and Sabrina spent hours just laughing and playing together.  All day they could just goof.  No matter what we actually did as “An Activity” for the day, they always played.
     I have come to realize that no sound is more loved than the assortment of clunks, giggles and snorts of 3 kids tumbling about.
     I had to take our visitors to the airport yesterday.  I am so happy to have this short time with them.  It still hurts to see them go.  One of those things I can not change.  Missouri just is not close to New Zealand.
     I find myself wishing I could explain it all to them.  To tell them that there will always be plenty of space in my life for them--that I would love nothing more than to have them stay.  But I don’t want them to feel like they have to choose and I know that children love both parents with all their hearts.  I know they wonder why I can’t just live next door to them.  But that is a very long explanation full of adult complexities.  Sometimes I wish someone could explain it to me too.  Not because I don’t understand it, I just don’t know exactly how to express it.
     Our lives are a baffling mix of self-determination and fate.  No parent can give everything that a child wants to them.  I am humbled by the realization that what we fail to give them probably shapes them more significantly than what we do give them.  I will always do everything I can for them.  I hope they don’t judge me too harshly on what I couldn’t give them.  This mix of fate and decision has moved us very far apart.  But I love them just the same.
     They are probably just arriving home about now.  Hope they had a safe and easy journey.  I hope the rest of the summer is magical for them—in the same way that I remember the long slow days of summer.  I will call and write often.  We will make everything ready for them to come again soon.
    Thanks, Mom, for bringing them to us! I know it’s hard to navigate all those airports with kids.  I can not really tell you how grateful I am for it. Thanks to Tom too for putting up with you being gone for month!  Gabe, Amy and I can not wait to see you all again.  Take care and talk to you soon!

Cape Palliser

Okay folks... stick with me here.  On the very most southern tip of the North Island is Cape Palliser which is little more than lighthouse and a set up steps.  But on the plus side it is one of the permanent seal colonies on the island.  These are bachelor colonies so there's no female seals to fight over and no pups to protect.  These seals are lazy, fat, and sleepy.

The drive out to the cape is about 2.5 hours from my house.  The most challenging bit is the hop over the Rimutaka's.  This zig-zaggy pass over the mountains is always sure to induce at least one car-sick casualty.  If  you were to compare the distance from my house to the cape you might be beguiled by the mere 60 mile journey.  But the slow mountain pass and general lack of direct routes to anything make short distances still take a good while.

At one point we had to drive over an area signed as "Active Slip Area" where the road had obviously washed out.  The road on the right side disappeared in to the rocky surf and the road on the left was a steep wall of gravel and silt.  Nothing about it was confidence inspiring.

I got a few pictures of the lighthouse, stairs and the seals.  I didn't stop to take pictures of the road--although on retrospect I should have.

The point is quite isolated.  This sensation is increasingly becoming part of my image of New Zealand.  It is very easy to round a few bends and then feel like you're at the end of the world--and I guess you sort of are.  I just forget that I live here.  A big surprise was that my oldest son, Chandler, who had a tendency to not be a joiner, decided to climb the steps with me and Gabe.  I actually wasn't going to tackle the steps but I went along.  My legs are still complaining about this decision.  However, the view was pretty awesome.

Obligatory Essay on turning 39

So I’m 39… If you’re doing the math that means I was born in 1970.  If you’re astrologically interested, I was born at 12:47 AM in the south-eastern part of Nebraska.  If you live outside the US and are not exactly sure where this is, picture a map of the USA and put your finger right in the centre of it.  You’re probably within 100 miles (220 km) or so.

In case you haven’t noticed, I’m writing in British-style (centre rather than center).  I am writing from New Zealand after all so I figure I might as well be appropriate to where I am rather than from where I was born.  While it is very obvious to those that check up on me regularly, I’ve been in New Zealand for over a year now so being here is nothing new.  But for whatever reason I feel the urge to capture these thoughts on 39 years in a more holistic way.  It starts just after midnight in early summer in Nebraska and has wound its way to early winter in New Zealand in just under 4 decades.  A physical distance of some 10,000 miles, I suppose it may be as far as one can travel from Nebraska and still be on land and on the planet.  I assure you this was entirely un-intentional.

What I have determined in 39 years is that you just never know what’s going to happen next.  Sometimes good, sometimes bad; you just don’t know.  For me so far the good has outweighed the bad.  I still am excited by what may yet happen each day.  There are still yet many unpleasant challenges.  There will be more, but I am still eager for the fight.

When I was a young boy I thought about being an adult.  About the time I could do the math, I projected to the year 2000.  That seemed a magical year at the time.  I would be 30 and I would see a new century.  I imagined myself in a suit and tie on the streets of some city like New York.  As a kid I just never imagined that at 30 I might be in the same place I was at 10.  I lived in Nebraska until I was 27 when I moved to Kansas City.  I stayed in KC until I was 37 when I moved to New Zealand.

I shall declare the day I moved out of my parent’s house at 19 as the day I became an “adult”.  But I don’t think I knew a thing about maturity until perhaps as late as my divorce at 31.  Between 19 and 31 I learned about love, women, children, and finances—almost in that order!

After 31 I began to discover something of feeling old.  Only enough to give me an idea about what being old someday may be like.  But it was also about this time I really felt like I knew who I was and how to actively live out who I was.  I think for me, at least, losing something precious (my kiddos) taught me something of what was valuable.  I learned how to live things you couldn’t change and didn’t like.  But I also learned not to stand for things I didn’t like and I *could* change.  Life is too short and often too complicated to waste time living with things you don’t have to.

So 39… not quite 40… now what?  I look ahead to 2030 and 2040 and even 2050.  Maybe even farther, who knows?  Strangely I have less of an idea of what life will be like at 60 than I ever pictured for 30.  I could talk to you about plans and retirement and kids out of college, but I can’t really picture what life is like.  The idea of me at 60 (or 80) still “online” and joining my buddies in the latest network game sounds hilarious and it’s probably true.  I only hope I can keep up with the hardware.  I hope I can still see trees from my windows and walk through mist covered hills.  I hope the ocean is not too far away for a visit.  I hope all my kiddos are doing very well as doctors, artists, and scientists.  I hope Amy is near by and walking with me.  While I’m at all this hoping, I hope all of you are with me too happy in your lives and enjoying this journey of discovery.  I have only recently discovered that there is no quota of good that can be exhausted.  If you are blessed with miracles, this does not mean that other miracles were diverted.  If you were spared, it does not me others were sacrificed.  We can all receive an endless supply of miracles.

That’s about all I think I can ramble on today.  I’m doing fine.  I hope you are too.

Kids in NZ 2009

It's winter! Sabrina is wading at the beach on Oriental Bay.

Pictures I have from June/July when we had our visitors!