Rabbits

Wishing we could pull one out of a hat.

JEB

(both photos of CEB, fall 2007)

Sun and Wind

When we sit together, and she is calm, I bask in the… togetherness.
I massage her hands gently, willing each finger to rouse. I press my lips to her cheek.
Like a strong fall wind, the kind of gust that rattles the leaves from the trees, her life will have been brief but powerful.
I take in the smell of freshly shampooed hair or of sticky grape medicine, depending on the time of day, wafting from her idle body.
Like Colby – lying by the window doing his best to soak up autumn sun, perhaps imagining if he absorbs enough now it will carry him through the winter – I do my best to soak up all of her, realizing it will never be enough to last me through the winter, a lifetime of winters.
But there will always be gusts and golden rays, there will always be glorious moments, so there will always be her.

JEB

Tuckata

From Italian toccare, "to touch," a toccata is a virtuoso piece of music featuring lightly fingered, fast moving passages, generally emphasizing the dexterity of the performer's fingers.*

Widor's Toccata is a long time favorite of ours. Listening to the fury of an extremely talented organist power through this masterpiece, you get a good idea of what a grand pipe organ is capable of. Also, if you're like us, you get goosebumps. Every single time.

Tucker's "Tuckata" may not be lightly fingered, and it may not give you goosebumps. But his music touches us... he's played right into our hearts, making them swell just big enough to bump up the corners of our mouths.

Andy & Jenni

*abbreviated definition from Wikipedia

Beauty and the Best

Twenty Seven

This guy may be Tressel's first verbal commitment for the class of 2027.  Can you hear it now, "Touchdown by Tucker Betz"?

Thanks in advance to Eddie George for unretiring jersey number 27.  Tucker needs a shirt.

Tucker is prognosticating his own 2031 NFL draft pick - number one.

Or, if Tucker decides not to play football, that's fine.  He can dot the I.

Andy & Jenni

Pointed

This time last fall, Celia started school.  It was suggested that she might benefit from more socialization with peers.  Maybe she didn't point because she didn't see other children pointing.  Maybe she would draw and stack blocks and start talking again if she saw other children do those things.  So she started going to a fabulous facility, one day a week for two hours, as part of their Parent's Day Out program. 

But she didn't point, and she didn't regain speech.  And although she tried to keep up with the other toddlers and although the teachers were good to her, her differences became more pointed.

 

Celia - first day of school - Oct. 2008

Celia only went to school five times.  She didn't get to make friends on the playground.  She'll never do a book report or trade items from her lunchbox, she'll never get to struggle with algebra or decide whether to try out for cheerleader or join the track team.  When I start to think about the things she won't get to take part in, the things we'll miss out on doing with her, I look at her and she points me back to the realization that if it weren't for her, we would have missed so much.  Not academic lessons, but there are lessons and they have meaning and we are learning.  Plucked from "normal life," on crooked paths and from different vantage points, we're looking and listening and trying to learn from what we've been given.  And we are not disappointed.

JEB

Bedtime Benediction

May peace take refuge here and may sweet dreams encamp around us.
May we be grateful for the blessing of today and the hope for tomorrow.
May moonbeams cover us and may sleep curl up next to us tonight.

 JEB