Family life.

"In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future." (Alex Haley)

Recently the members of my family have been heavy on my heart for many varied reasons. Each of our children and their families have had the struggles and joys that come as they begin the adventure that is family life. I have again been reminded of a quote from November 28, 2012 The New York Times by Susan Engel, "When I was 24 years old, I brought my firstborn son, 3-week-old Jacob, to my childhood home on the Eastern End of Long Island to meet his grand parents. When I arrived, an old family friend and neighbor, Cora Stevens, happened to be sitting in my parents' kitchen. Cora, a mother to five grown children and grandmother to seven, grabbed my tiny Jake, put her face right up to his and started speaking loud baby talk to him. Then, as she bounced him on her knee, she turned to me and said, 'When they're little they sit on your lap; when they're big they sit on your heart.'"

I have known this to be true for some time, as have many of you. When they are growing the things that hurt or injure can usually be overcome with kind and loving thoughts and expressions. Physical wounds heal. Emotional hurts require a little more time, love, and patience; and they too, heal. It is when, as a parent to grown children, injury or hurt lingers for weeks, months, or even years (in some cases) that the weight on your (my) heart becomes very heavy indeed. We can no longer just put a band aid on it give the hurt a kiss and make it better. And as much as we might wish it to be so easy it really should not be.

They will experience many trials and difficulties just like we did with them, and this is only right. We all gain strength and understanding from those struggles. Thank goodness we can choose to smile and even laugh during those moments. And our children learn to do the same.

Ralph Fiennes is quoted as saying, "One of the things that binds us as a family is a shared sense of humor" and I heartily endorse that thought. I recall a day in the Mahan household, probably a Sunday, when there was a lot of bickering occurring in the house. There had been a lesson in church recently regarding the spirit of contention and how we should try to avoid letting little irritations become contentious at home. I remember listening to one after another of the children sniping and arguing with one another in the various corners of the house. One of our middle daughters (Holly) was sitting on the couch in the living room listening to all the chattering of her siblings and she very loudly said, "I think the spirit of contention is sitting on the couch laughing at us!" Cindy and I both started to laugh and very soon all the family was chuckling or smiling or laughing at the foolishness that had led to that moment. That laughter changed the mood of the day and as I reviewed the incident with Cindy, Lisa, and Holly I could hear the smile in their voices some 20 years after the fact.

Our children (I don't think I've established birth order here, so will do so now) Jennifer, Adam, Stefanie, Holly, Lisa, and Kelli have brought many smiles to many faces over the years. I learned from each. When they were small the time spent and activities shared always changed my outlook on whatever was happening in my life. I am now watching them learn the same lessons as they interact with their own as well as nieces and nephews (only nieces from ours but many nephews in extended family). "Give a little love to a child, and you get a great deal back" (John Ruskin).

I remember a day when Adam and I had gone home together for lunch. He worked near my place of employment and had walked over to see what my plans were for lunch that day and we decided to go home and have something there. I had recently received a Bill Engvall CD from my brother (Mitch) and we popped it into the CD player in the vehicle we were riding in as we headed back to work. As we drove across town on 136th Ave. we got to laughing so hard that I had to pull the truck over until we could stop. What a funny man and a great shared experience with that son of mine. We may not always see eye to eye, but we always laugh at things that are funny.

Kind of a rambling post here today. I'll try and do better next time. Thanks for checking in.

"Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read." Groucho Marx.

As many of you know we lost two of our most loved dogs over the course of this last year, or so. Cindy wrote about my buddy Hobbes in her blog (It's a Mahan Thing) a year ago; "On Saturday, Aug. 4, we had to put our sweet golden retriever out of his misery.  He lived with us his entire life, from March of 2000 until the day he died.  Many people will attest to the fact that you can't go wrong with a Golden for a loving, gentle, loyal family pet.  But Hobbes was exceptional.  He came to us as our children were primed to leave the nest...Jen was actually in college, but had moved back home, and Adam graduated from high school the year we brought that puppy home.  But Hobbes remembered, and loved, them all.  As the kids left home over these last 12 years, college, marriage, Marine Corp, he was never quite as content.  But whenever they came home, his world was complete."

And I posted on Facebook in March of this year, Very serious and terminal bone cancer in the left foreleg and shoulder of our great friend and companion of the past eight years (Lizzie). Even if they amputate the limb there is a 90-95% chance of the disease returning. We brought her home from the vet last night with heavy hearts so we could spend a few last hours with her to say goodbye. Kelli will come home tonight to share an evening with her also then we will return to the veterinary office tomorrow and say our final goodbyes. Lizzie has been a good dog with a very sweet and loving personality. I (we) will miss her when she is gone.

Many of the relationships that we have as part of the human family can be termed Love/Hate/Love. I have never had that kind of relationship with any of the many dogs that have populated my life over the five plus decades I have enjoyed thus far. I think the tally is up to eleven dogs over those years (am I really this old?). The relationship between man and dog, from my perspective, is one of love/love. We love them because they first love us. Charles M. Schulz is quoted as having said, "Happiness is a warm puppy." I agree. I know that when I have been involved in picking out a new puppy to come to my life I am not the one doing the picking out. The puppies I got right out of high school (Duke and Greg a pair of Golden Retriever brothers) chose me. They came to me and did not like it that I was showing an interest in any of their litter mates. Cindy and the kids have chosen all the other puppies that have come to our home and I am certain that the experience was similar.

Following the loss of Hobbes and Lizzie we were thinking that we would not get another dog to be companion and friend to Viva (Border Collie mix) unless she just could not handle being the only dog in the household. She did okay most of the time but would mope and be dejected from time to time as the weeks went by. The biggest concern in my little brain has been that Cindy will be returning to work later this summer and I worry about how Viva will react to being home alone every day once that occurs. We decided about a month ago that we would look for an older (four to six years) dog that needed a home. We figure that they could grow old together and likely approach death at about the same time. Then, if Cindy doesn't change her mind, we will go without. Too many family events that require travel around the country to worry about a dog left behind.

Cindy found a couple dogs that fit the description of what we were looking for and she even went and spent some time with one of the choices. Before she could go get Viva and return (along with me) to see how they would get along that dog had been adopted. That evening as we were out to dinner we discussed what other options we had and decided to contact the veterinary office we have used since we arrived in Montrose in 2006. She did. They pointed us toward a six year old Shepherd/Lab mix that was owned by a couple who had just been admitted to a care facility as they near the end of life. We introduced her to Viva a week ago and they, while hesitant, have become good companions. There are still changes to make in the training of this dog. But, she is very intelligent and responds well to the direction we give. I walked to the back door on a recent evening to hand the telephone to Cindy and as I opened the door I noticed that she was crying and I could not tell why. She wiped her eyes and came to get the telephone explaining as she walked over that the dogs were playing together - something we have not seen in months and the joy on Viva's countenance was very evident. Both are thriving so far and we are very pleased.

Sorry about two more serious posts in a row, Humor will return next week (I think).

Thanks for checking in. More to come. See you soon.

Words, Sentences, Books....

Carl Sagan is quoted as saying, "What an astonishing thing a book is. It's a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles. But one glance at it and you are inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years. Across the millenia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic."

For those of you who do not know I am married to a woman who works as an elementary school librarian. She loves books and she loves children of all ages so the job is a very good fit. She is constantly reading books that she is considering for the school library (or that have been purchased but are unknown to her) before putting them on the shelf for children to read. We also have many, many other books in our home library from a variety of authors and genres. We all learned to enjoy reading a good (or even not so good) book from early in life. I don't know much about the man who I am about to quote here but, I love the quote;

"At one magical instant in your early childhood, the page of a book - that string of confused, alien ciphers--shivered into meaning. Words spoke to you, gave up their secrets; at that moment, whole universes opened. You became, irrevocably, a reader." (Alberto Manguel, "A History of Reading").

I remember that day in first grade when my eyes were finally opened to the lifelong passion of reading.

I have seen in the eyes of my own children when the switch finally clicked closed and the images on those pages began to make sense.

The excitement of putting those characters together into words and again into sentences was mind blowing. Rudyard Kipling is quoted as saying, "Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind". And from Mother Teresa, "Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless." Not so kind words can also be easy to speak and, as much as we hope to still the echoes, they seem also to endure.

There are several times in my life when I have spoken unkindly of another person. No thought given to the comment, simply the first thought into my head escaping through my lips. Once I spoke of a boy whom I had known in school and church for several years. He was a classmate of mine and I knew that he was not in the room at the time. What I had forgotten is that his Mother was teaching the class that day. My friends tried to stop me as I started to speak those words (they knew what was coming) but could not communicate to me quickly enough to forestall the insertion of my large foot into my small-minded mouth. The look of horror on her face is etched into my memory like very few other images. Likewise the feelings of shame and embarrassment at my folly are clear in my mind even today.

I wish I could report to you all that I have not ever fallen prey to the same trap as I did that day in my young life but, alas, there is at least one more incident that occurred during my older teenage years. My Junior year in High School I enjoyed the opportunity to participate in several world history and government classes. Many of my classmates became good friends that year. I remember one day having a discussion with several of those classmates prior to the beginning of class. Someone at the table said something about another of our classmates that, while on some level true, was very unkind. I chimed in with a comment of my own that was deeply hurtful to the individual - who had just sat down at the opposite end of our table. She immediately started crying and ran from the room. Another memory that I will not soon lose. Tempered only by the fact that I was able to find her later that day with a sincere apology. She did not immediately forgive. But eventually she came to me and let me know that she had gotten over it and all was forgotten.

Words, Sentences, Books can all weave intended or unintended magic on us as individuals and on those upon whom we inflict our words and, by extension, thoughts. Whatever we think or say has consequences so maybe Mother Teresa had it right let's focus on kind words so that their echoes can be positively endless.

Thanks for checking in. Hope you enjoyed a more serious topic. More to come soon.

The victim of my own ego!

As mentioned a few posts ago I fell for the rollerblading craze of the 1990's in part because I saw the ease with which my teen-aged son was able to skate around the neighborhood. If you will remember my first experience on those instruments of torture was very exciting but not quite what I had hoped for. After a few outings I had become somewhat competent at moving around the neighborhood, though never with the ease and fluid grace the teenager displayed. When I had the most fun and gained the greatest comfort on those wheels was as I was following him. When he would skate in front of me and I could attempt to mimic his technique I could do very well; the problems arose when I was on my own.

I remember one fall evening when I went out to skate around the retention pond across from our home about dusk. I was the only person on the trail that circled the pond and I was feeling pretty confident as I was gliding around on the new concrete sidewalk that had been poured earlier in the summer. The one thing I really did not like about going out that time of evening was the clouds of gnats that appeared and swarmed around the edge of the pond. The project to beautify the retention pond area and make it friendly for local children and families to walk and have a pleasant outdoor experience had just been completed. The sidewalk all the way around the pond, several metal and wood bridges for pedestrian traffic, freshly planted trees and shrubs, and newly planted grassy areas with some mulch to help retain the seed until it could germinate and begin to grow. This was a much needed improvement to the neighborhood and we all benefited from the work that had been done.

As I was skating that evening I noticed that some of the mulch that had been scattered had made its way up onto the sidewalk in a couple of spots (in particular around the aforementioned foot bridges) and as I approached those areas I coasted so I could keep an eye on the sidewalk without worrying about trying to watch for wheel obstructions while skating. The distance around the pond on the sidewalk was approximately nine tenths of a mile, and if I circled around six or seven times I could get my heart rate up and get a good sweat going.

I enjoyed going out that late in the evening because I knew that I would not encounter many other people. I was alone that night enjoying the few minutes it took to skate around the pond in the near darkness. Each passing lap it was a little darker and my confidence on my feet was greater. The final lap I decided I would go all out and as I passed in front of the house I picked up the pace to my maximum effort. I was flying as I rounded the first turn and crossed the first foot bridge, I never slowed for the turn to the left that would take me across the backside of the pond, and I even tried to pick up the pace as I approached the second foot bridge. I was cruising like never before as I approached and crossed the bridge. As I came off the bridge my right foot struck a large chunk of mulch with a rock in it and immediately stopped rolling. When I bought the roller-blades I was skeptical of the need for the wrist guards and knee pads that the young clerk recommended I include with my purchase, after all I had been riding bicycles and skateboards without any safety equipment (all through my younger years) and had suffered no injuries.
That night I was really glad that I had put on those guards and pads along with a pair of thick leather gloves because when I landed flat on the sidewalk I was saved from injury. The only injury was to my pride (which, as many of you know, is substantial).

I rolled over onto my back and looked up at a young boy (11 or 12 years old) who had seen the crash.
Him; "Mister are you OK?"
Me;"Yeah, I'm fine"
Him; "Do you need me to help you get up?"
Me; "No, I think I'll sleep here tonight."
Him; "Are you sure?"
Me; "Yes, I'll be OK, thanks, though."

I started to laugh a few moments later as I thought about what had just happened. I had so carefully coasted over those foot bridges just a few minutes earlier because I realized the potential danger. I only lost my focus for a few moments of enjoyment and ended up there flat on my back the unfortunate victim of my own ego. I did, eventually get up and skate home where I shared the story with those assembled in the living room.

A few months later our family was visiting our extended family in the Grand Junction, Colorado area and Adam (my son) and I brought along our roller-blades so we could skate along a stretch of the Colorado Riverfront Trail from 24 Road east to Highway 340. Once again I let him take the lead and I attempted to mimic his fluid motion by focusing on his movement in front of me. We skated out to near the highway and then turned around to skate back to the parking lot at the 24 Road/River Road intersection. No problems out or back. It felt good to be skating with my son. I was able to match his stride for much of the skate and was very pleased with my effort. As we got back to the van we skated around to the back doors and I unlocked and opened them. We both grabbed our shoes and walked to the front of the vehicle to change into them. I looked over at Adam through the open windows and said, "I think I'm starting to get the hang...." I never finished the sentence because my feet had slipped out from under me, my shoes flew straight up in the air, and I landed flat on my back. I don't think Adam stopped laughing all weekend.

Thanks for checking in. More to come soon. See you then.

Little irritations.

So earlier today while at work my boss was sitting in his office asking me questions through the window in the wall of our adjoining offices. He had a salesman in his office and was also having a conversation with him regarding a deal they were working on together. If I thought the questions were directed at me I would answer - if I thought an answer was needed. My boss (Chad) started grumbling about the lack of response when I failed to acknowledge a comment he made about an out of state tax percentage that we would need to include in a deal headed my way. He asked me if I was mad at him? or, if there was some other reason that I was not participating in the conversation he thought we were having (my wife would probably chime in here with her own examples). I explained that if I thought he needed a response I responded; otherwise, not so much. He then stood in the window and asked me why I was being so mean to him (jokingly). I replied, "Because its fun!" He laughed out loud and wondered if he would ever get used to my humor.

This conversation got me thinking about a day not too long ago that began with both Chad and me in a grumpy mood. It seemed from the beginning of the day that we were going to be dealing with one disaster after another. Customer complaints, salespeople sniping at one another. The city dropped off a notice that his tenant had not paid their water and trash bill and service would be cutoff if not paid by the end of business that day, problems in the shop, problems with the manufacturer, problems with some lenders .... not that unusual for a Monday in the car business except for the volume and duration. By lunchtime we were both ready to lock the doors and send everyone home. Of course we couldn't, but we wanted to. As the end of the day approached we finally had put most of the fires out or, at least, had a solution working that should clear up the matter in question. Needless to say, I left for home quite anxious for some respite from the turmoil and stress of the day.

I sent a text to my sweetheart (Cindy) to see if she wanted to go out to dinner that night and received a reply that that would be a wonderful idea as she was having a stressful day (something in the air?) and could use a break. Upon arrival at home we got right back into a vehicle and headed across town to have dinner. As we pulled into the restaurant parking lot I realized that my wallet was in my briefcase back at home; I kind of chuckled to myself that I had forgotten it, but, figured that Cindy would pay with our bank debit card - no problem. As we were getting out of the car I mentioned that I had forgotten to grab my wallet and would need to pay with the debit card. She looked at me with a surprised expression put her purse down on the hood and commented that she really hoped she had put her wallet back in her purse after making an online purchase. She went digging (honestly girls, how much stuff do you carry in those things?) and quickly realized that it was not there. We climbed back into the car - one of us laughing (me), and one of us grumbling about how ridiculous it was that we both forgot and what a pain it was to have to drive all the way back home just for a stupid wallet that was sitting on the kitchen table.

I am pretty sure we stopped at every light on Main Street as we headed home and fell in behind every driver who felt the need to drive well below the posted speed limit. My recollection is that the bridge construction before the turn toward home also caused us a delay. I also remember that the grumpiness emanating from the driver seat was getting pretty humorous, though the passenger dare not laugh (at least in the moment). Once a wallet had been retrieved we returned across town to the same restaurant and a fabulous meal with some good conversation and the evening was saved. Minor problems, petty irritations, uncomfortable slip ups - it all can be overcome with a change in perspective. I look back on the day and smile at the memory.

We all choose how we will react to those little (or large) irritations each day and how we react often makes our day good or ill. It is our choice. Nothing revelatory here, just commenting on recent occurrences in the slow lane.

Cindy is out of town this week. Celebrating Tessa Sadler's first birthday with family and friends in Broomfield, CO. Wishing I could be there but someone has to hold our place in line.

Thanks for checking in. More to come soon. See you then.

Talk among fathers.

As you may or may not know our youngest daughter was married a few weeks ago in the Mount Timpanogos Temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was a wonderful experience for all of the family who could be there (at least from my perspective). I only mention it here again to set the scene for a conversation I had with a young father who is a cousin  to my new son-in-law. There were a lot of young children at the reception following the ceremony so I am not completely certain how many were his but I know that he has at least one daughter and she is who we spoke about during the evening festivities.

I was sitting alone at a table consuming a little nourishment about halfway through the reception. The dancing had started and I was observing the interaction between all the family and friends who had gathered for the celebration. Cindy and our children and their families were involved in their own conversations and refreshment consumption and I was able to observe the loving interaction among my family but also among the extended Esplin family who came to show support and love to the newlywed couple. It was a moment that will live in my memory for many years to come. After a few minutes I was joined by this young family as they chose to sit and relax for a few moments. Father, Mother, and (I recall) three children. The kids were starting to get tired and a bit restless so Mom got up after just a few minutes and took them on a walk around the garden to keep them distracted, and to see others of their extended family.

Their father finished the food on his plate and turned to me and asked if I was the father of the bride? I indicated that yes Kelli is my youngest daughter and the last of my children to marry. He then asked with all sincerity "how do you do it?" "I love my cousin, in fact I think he is one of the finest people I know, but, how can you as her dad, let her go?" He went on to add, "I look at my daughter and I can't imagine how you can let go and allow her to lose her innocence and begin to live life as a married woman."

I looked at him and recognized the real concern in his countenance and knew that this needed a more thoughtful answer than I might give in this setting normally. I gave him a little background about this daughter of mine who he had only met that day. He needed to understand a little about who she is and what had brought her to this point in her life. I also reminded him that I have four other daughters who had made the choice to marry and begin family life in whatever form it would take for them. I told him that my answer if he asked me this question at Stefanie's reception might have been a little different than following the fifth daughter's marriage. Though, in retrospect, probably not as different as I was thinking that evening.

I also talked with him about our family history of parents, grandparents, and great grandparents who had married once and for life. Marriage is a commitment that our family makes very thoughtfully and seriously. And finally I shared the thought with him that when his daughter reached an age and time where she would make this choice; he would find that he also was ready to accept that choice. He would have watched her and her love go through the machinations of getting there, and that would help him to realize that the decision was not random or happenstance. He was not comforted by the thought but I hope he understood that as he and his children grow together over the next decade or two he will begin to understand for himself the truth of the conversation.

Fatherhood is an opportunity for a man to grow and become someone even more worthwhile than the sum of the gifts and talents he has developed in life. Each of us, as fathers, hope for our children to have a better existence than we have. Part of the process of helping them along this better path is letting go and even encouraging them to take baby steps or giant leaps to arrive at a greater destination. That young father will learn when to let them leap as they grow up together.

That is all for now. Thanks for checking in. More to come soon.

Life can be funny sometimes!

When our children were all living at home (it seems forever ago) we, of necessity, had a large 15 passenger van. Purchased by the company I was a part of for business use with the idea that we could also use it for personal transportation. We went everywhere in that monster. Many of our children also learned to drive in that extra large vehicle and I think they benefit still today from having learned how to maneuver such a beast into and out of parking spaces that were designed for much smaller cars. I remember one time we were all coming home from an event and my Mom and Dad were riding along with us. We pulled up in front of the house and everyone started to bail out the side doors of the passenger compartment and as I walked around toward the sidewalk I noticed my Dad struggling to exit I walked over to see if he needed any help and saw him turn back to release the seat-belt which had securely ensconced him in his seat. We laughed about that for many years (Dad also).

Many of you of my vintage will remember the days when rollerblading became a craze all over the U.S.. I fell into the trap of thinking that rollerblading would be a great way to get some exercise without the stress and strain on my knees, ankles (running), or backside (bicycle). My son Adam had recently gotten a pair of roller-blades and seemed to enjoy them and he said it was a good workout. I finally went to the old Gart Brothers Sporting Goods store in downtown Denver and tried on a couple pair until I found those that gave me all the support I thought I would need and that seemed to be solid enough to carry someone of my age and girth (I was not as large as I am now nor as handsome). I brought them home and put them on to go try them out. As I walked down the hallway in the house with them on my feet Adam noticed and ran to grab his  blades to join me. My first mistake was putting them on before going outside. You wouldn't think two small steps could provide such a major obstacle but, they did. Stepping from the carpeted living room onto a concrete step quickly showed me that this would be no easy task to master. My feet were uncontrollable. I have been a fairly athletic guy throughout my life but keeping both feet moving in the same direction was nearly impossible. After landing on my bum in the front yard I quickly figured out what the stops on the front and rear of those roller-blades were for. Sure you could use them for stopping, but, you could also walk on them if you were careful.

By this time Adam had his roller-blades on and had joined me. Watching him over the preceding months it seemed as if the roller-blades were merely an extension of his feet and legs. The grace, athleticism and speed with which he skated was what lured me into the thought that I could do the same. What a foolish man I was. I walked on the front stops over to the end of the sidewalk and onto the driveway where I rolled onto the wheels and down the steeply angled drive toward the sidewalk in front of the house. Never in my life have I accelerated to 60 miles per hour in so short a space or time. I'm glad there was not any traffic on the street in front of the house at that moment because I could not have slowed or turned to save my life. You may remember the Calvin and Hobbes comic strip from the 1980's and 1990's. In one strip I recall that Calvin is skating down the hill in his neighborhood unable to stop and he yells to Hobbes asking his advice. Hobbes yells turn into the gravel drive at the neighbors house. In the last frame you see a mangled and bruised Calvin walking back up the hill with Hobbes commenting that he did not say it was the best way to stop.

I did not have time to yell and the stops on the roller-blades did not seem to be working - so I fell onto the asphalt (also not the best idea) to come to a stop. I was not as mangled as Calvin seemed to be, though the bruises lasted for about a week. Adam rolled over and helped me get up, then helped me back up onto the sidewalk, then gave me some instruction on how to skate, stop, and turn. After 15 minutes or so I had had enough for one day and headed back inside.

I'm sure that my wife and children all had a good laugh over the next few weeks as I attempted to learn how to propel myself around the lake across the street from our home. I did eventually figure out how and spent many evenings skating around the lake for fun and exercise. There are many more funny stories associated with this adventure in rollerblading. I will probably share a few of them in an upcoming post.

Oh, I began with the seat-belt incident and then detoured to the roller-blades. I was reminded of the seat-belt incident recently when I had a similar problem. I had driven to work one morning recently and, in a bit of a hurry, upon arrival parked on the lot grabbed my briefcase and started to slide out the driver side door but got stuck about halfway. I scooted and scooted but seemed to be hung up on something. I looked down and realized that the shoulder strap of the seat-belt was still across my chest. I laughed and laughed - slid back into the vehicle and released the clasp.

Sorry kids, this one may be hereditary.

Thanks for checking in. More to come soon.