Happy Birthday to Me and Some Childhood Recollections

It's a good day today. It's my birthday. 33 years old- not bad. A lot has happened in that time, a brief overview of which I will share a little later in this blog. As for today, I woke up early and ran a half-marathon. It was a good run, but despite beating my personal goal of 1:40 I came in feeling like I could have done better. I guess there is always a next time. When I got home, the kids had made me breakfast and we relaxed a little before Rachel loaded up her bike for the pedalfest (an annual 26 mile bike race that she had entered- capped at 500 contestants due to popularity). I stayed home with the kids and fought sea monsters, dragons, and giant spiders until we located the secret magic treasure that would make them go away. After we had finally secured the safety of our home, the kids all had baths to wash off the dragon snot, and then we drove down to watch Mom cross the finish line. She had a good showing and came in 3rd place- a surprise to me (but it shouldn't have been) given the number of more "serious" bikers in the race with much better bikes and more racing experience. I am proud of Rach- she definitely knows how to drive herself hard with a stubborn persistence that I hope our children pick up on.

Just now I finished mowing the lawn and am about to sit down to read a book while the kids have quiet time (Rachel is working a few hours today). Later, we will have a birthday party for me, and then Addy and I will go see a live production of Shrek, the Musical. It is being done by the fairly prestigious Summer Theater, and one of Addy's drama teachers is in the play, so that should be fun. Anyway- it's been a good day. Happy birthday to me.

And now on to my actual blog entry:
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My family is awesome. Can I just say that? It's true.

Lately, I have been reading through some of my old journals and looking at pictures of growing up. Unlike some of my siblings (I am assuming), the home I remember most when I think of my childhood is the yellow one we had in California. The day-to-day events that stand out to me are picking (stealing, in retrospect) oranges off of trees as I walked to or from school, making forts or catching crawdads in the nearby creek-bed, playing roller hockey in our long driveway, and going on bike rides to Rahilly Park. On the weekends we would collect pecans, raspberries, and mistletoe to sell to neighbors for candy money which I would spend at "The Treat Store," or go to Applegate Zoo and feel bad for the decrepit animals living there, or swim in the muddy waters of Yosemite Lake.

School for me was an unwanted lesson in sociology as I watched good friends from elementary school develop strong racial and cultural prejudices against one another as we entered middle or junior high school, sometimes even resulting in violence. I can still remember the names of some of my friends- Victor, or Kong, or Maria, or Gene, or Kao, who each fell victim to gangs or drugs (or both), their lives tragically stolen from them before they had even had a chance to get started. These were kids I had had footraces with on the playground, or built tunnels with in the sandbox. They were good kids. Oblivious at the time to intense social pressures that I didn't have to deal with, I didn't understand why school seemed increasingly difficult and unimportant to most of my fellow students. After all, it wasn't even that hard- you just had to set goals, work hard, and study. All it takes is for people to apply themselves, right?

How naive I was.

My family life, on the other hand, was blissful. I had a stay-at-home mom, and a dad who was around virtually any time I was, including summer vacations (he was a high-school teacher). I remember my mom reading long books to us including The Secret Garden, Little House on the Prairie, The Mixed-up Files of Basil E. Frankweiler, Harry Potter, and of course The Book of Mormon. I remember my dad helping me with math homework and extra-credit science experiments. We spent a lot of time together and went on a lot of vacations. At least that's what it seemed like to me. I especially remember trips to Yosemite or the beach where we would hang out with my grandparents, or to my cousins' house in Weldon where we would explore "The Rocks", or ride horses to Paul's Place. We also did some long family trips to Utah to visit extended family, and once we even drove to Illinois on a parent-guided tour of US and LDS history. In doing all these things I feel like I formed strong bonds with my siblings- my family was strong, and they were easily the most important people in the world to me.

As we grew up, my siblings and I started going our own separate directions. I left first at the age of 19 for a two-year LDS mission to Brazil. I was home from that for only a few months before moving out to attend college at BYU, during which time I saw my brother very briefly before he left on his own mission. While he was away I got married to a beautiful sign language interpreter and elementary school teacher (Rachel), became heavily involved in academics and scientific research, and started preparations for dental school. While the rest of my family still lived together, I moved to Cleveland, Ohio for more schooling, and from there to Northern Idaho where I live now.

In the meantime, my brother returned from his mission, got married, and moved to Oklahoma for law school where he stayed after graduation for a job. His wife, Ashland, is a nurse and stay-at-home mom, and they were just recently able to move to Utah- a move that I think they were both excited for. My sister, Haley graduated from college, got married, and moved to Texas with her husband, Matt. He was an army officer who spent a lot of time overseas, but they recently moved to a small oil town in North Dakota where Haley spends most of her time with the kids while Matt works hard as a business administrator. Allison graduated and moved to Utah where she got a job and met Clayson, who helps design computer software and works from time to time on a family-owned ranch in Idaho. They got married and recently bought a home in Logan (Utah). Courtney also graduated from college and moved away, working now in the greater Salt Lake City area helping autistic children. My parents have stayed in Rexburg the whole time as we have each gone on to build our own lives elsewhere. They are strong members of the different communities they are a part of (work, church, neighborhood), and seem to be enjoying their now-quiet home with brief interruptions of chaos from the grand-kids. Things are going well. The family continues to grow, and I think everyone is happy despite small first-world problems.  Life is good.

Alright- that is all well and good. But why did I give this abbreviated family history? The truth is that I don't really know. Maybe most people would see it as entirely irrelevant to events this week. It just seemed sort of important to me though, and this is my blog. When I think about my family today I feel extremely proud to consider myself a part of it. Each of my siblings have gone on to become very successful adults by pretty much anyone's criteria. We have some amazing people who have married into the family too, and some incredible kids as a result. Like I said, my family is awesome.

We have also grown apart in some ways though- not in bad ways, but in natural ways. Time and distance have separated us, and many of us have our own families to worry about now. As our family, educational, or cultural backgrounds have diverged we have each become different people than we once were. Like my parents, we each have our own communities at work, at church, or in our towns where we play active roles. On a day to day basis we really don't have that large an impact on each other's activities or choices. Again, I think that all of this is not only inevitable, but is also very right...but sometimes I still miss crawdad fishing and roller hockey.

And maybe that's why this past weekend was so good. Due to a fortuitous converging of circumstances, it just sort of happened that we had an impromptu family reunion of sorts. Everyone but Matt was there at the same time (unfortunately he had to work), and for a while it was like old times...but better. Because now we weren't just kids- we were grown-ups, each living very full lives of our own and coming together not only as siblings but as a diverse group of experienced adults...and as friends. Somehow that seems more important to me now than mere genetic similarities. It was really, really fun.

Now, it's not as if we never see each other. We do stay in touch, and some people even live close to each other. But getting everyone in the same house, with all the kids and all the noise and all the personalities all at once- well, it was cool. I don't know that there's much more to say about that, but at the same time I don't feel like I have given it the significance that I feel it deserves. And who knows- maybe it was just me. But I had a good time. I think other people did too. Hopefully we can do it more often in the future.

Here are some pictures:

These first few are from a trip that Dad, Griffin, Clayson, and I took to the Darby Wind Caves. I had never been there before, though I have wanted to go for a long time. The trip did not disappoint.

Here we are on the hike up. You can see the entry to the cave right behind Griffin's head to the left.

Another picture of the 3 mile hike. In this one the cave is seen in the distance on the mountains behind us. 

Just before you get to the cave you come to this beautiful waterfall coming out of an underground river.

Here's my dad (Griffin behind him) just before getting to the entrance.

The cave seems to get narrower and narrower...

...and narrower...

...and narrower still.

Eventually it opened up into a large cavern with a steep drop-off. This is where we were planning on stopping, but there happened to be a rope there descending further into the abyss (well, at least the remains of what used to be a rope).

Despite the questionable quality of our lifeline, Griffin and I decided to do a little more exploring. The smarter people stayed behind so that there would be someone left to tell the story of our demise.

At the bottom of the pit, we found the underground river (you can't see it very well...just know that I am above it)

Griffin and I by the underground river. The wall had a bunch of cool fins on it, and the ceiling had mineral deposits that sparkled in the light of our headlamps. I tried to get pictures but none of them turned out very well...I guess some things are just meant to be experienced. It was a fun trip.

 These next few pictures are from a walk/scavenger hunt we took at the BYU-Idaho gardens.

Of course the kids had to visit the Hart Building. This has almost become a tradition.

They are doing a skit on the stage, I think.

The kids also did a good job helping grandpa to do all the yardwork. 

And finally, this is our "garden" that I came home to. The other side looks just as bad. Apparently, there was a 4-day stretch of 100+ degree weather while we were gone, and I had not arranged for anyone to come water the plants. So sad. 

One more. This is from Rachel's bike race today

This is right after the finish line. You can't tell in the picture, but Rach was breathing pretty hard. After I took this she basically fell off her bike and collapsed into the grass. That's how you know it was a good race. I am proud of her.

The next generation