The Game Plan

Every year we have an annual family gathering at our home at the base of Mt. Adams. Known affectionately as Rodeo Weekend, it takes place over the Father’s Day weekend, and is anchored by the Glenwood Ketchum Kaff Rodeo. On the professional rodeo circuit, this event is a big deal for our little town, as is this big yearly get-together for our not-so-little family. From the babies to the elders, for three days we all come together and navigate the dynamics du jour including sleeping arrangements, nap schedules, food and drink, KP duty, conversations, relationship patterns, political and personality differences, and deeply shared values and convictions. It is our favorite weekend of the year, we wouldn’t miss it, it just keeps getting better, and, as happens in families, such times have the potential to bring out the best, and of course, the not-so-best in any of us.

Cue the Game Plan.

In professional football, to prepare for each new game a specific plan is created. This game plan serves to leverage strengths, mitigate for known liabilities, protect against injury, and achieve a successful outcome. Along with the right strategies, a good game plan includes ongoing communication, clarification, and adjustment, and when all is said and done, the team comes out stronger, wiser, and more connected. Family gatherings are no different.

Cue the Game Plan.

We all come together carrying with us our strengths and weaknesses, and uniformed in our endearing qualities and irritating quirks. Old dynamics find new circumstances in which to play out, and there is unlimited potential for the deepening or damaging of relationships.

Cue the Game Plan.

This year, along with three new babies and another year full of individual and shared triumphs, trials, and tragedies, into the mix comes Gracie-the-chocolate-labraodoodle. Tom and I only mildly jokingly refer to her as our Therapy Dog because she continues to shine a light on the areas of our relationship that still need tweaking. In order to come out the other side of Rodeo Weekend even more in love than we are now, will require that we up our game even more when it comes to how to handle Gracie in the midst of the wonderful family mayhem. Her challenge is to find her inner-calm when around people and other dogs, but left to her own devices she will whip herself up into a happy-but-hot mess every time. Not a successful outcome. When it comes to helping her in that arena, we don’t always see it quite the same way.

Cue the Game Plan.

We haven’t come up with it yet, but it is in the works, and will mean coming up with a strategy that we agree on in both principle and practice. Easy to say ahead of time, hard to do in real time. Our game plan will serve to leverage our strengths, mitigate for our liabilities, protect our relationship from injury, and achieve a successful outcome. It will take ongoing communication, clarification, and adjustments along the way, and if we play it right, when all is said and done, because of a good game plan, we will come out stronger, wiser, and more connected.

When preparing for a football game or a family gathering, ending up with a successful outcome begins with a good game plan.

Rodeo Weekend 2019?

Game on!

Elking

It’s called Elking. A made up verb that you won’t find in any dictionary, but those of us who do it know exactly what it means. Throw a coat on over your pjs, stick your feet in a pair of Uggs, grab a steaming cup of coffee, hop in the SUV, and head out for a long, meandering drive through the Glenwood Valley to try and spot some elk.

However.

Elking isn’t really about the elk.

It’s about a beloved family tradition that we created together that makes time for connection. On those drives through the valley problems have been solved, weddings planned, questions posed, answers found, forgiveness asked, grace extended, courageous conversations broached, and next steps discovered.

Elking isn’t really about the elk.

Huddled together in the car, heated seats on high and windows open to let in the cold mountain air, we are bound together by our shared stories, family ties, and commitment to one another come what may. We laugh cry, disagree, find our way to common ground, and sometimes, we actually see some elk.

Family Reunion

Today, Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle had a brief reunion with her dad Gryffindor, and her sister Piper. The last time these three family members were together was on December 1st, and I will never forget Gracie’s first night at home. That’s because I was awake all night, as she howled and cried in her crate next to our bed until it was time to get up.

It was her first night away from the only family she had ever known, and her loneliness and pain were heard in every high pitched cry. I can’t even imagine how scary and confusing that must have been for her. The next night, Tom suggested that we move her crate into the mudroom, and that one of us sleep on the floor next to her for a few nights, as she began to adjust to her new pack,. Tom took the first night, I took the next one, and by the third night, she was ready to sleep on her own.

She was home, and we were family.

Watching her reconnect with her first family today, it was easy to see that they recognized one another immediately, as they sniffed and wagged, sniffed and wagged, and of course, sniffed some more. Looking at Gracie and Piper, I could see the similarities - the shape of their faces and their body size - and the differences - their color and the texture of their coats. Like all of us, their shared genetics and early experiences have shaped the pups that they are today, and will continue to influence who they become as they mature.

As I watched this family reunion in progress, I was reminded that there’s no getting around it, family is family. And whether we stick together like glue, or hope we never see one another again, our family is always a part of who we are. There are no perfect families, and most of ours are a mixture of the good, the bad, and the seriously ugly, and we get to choose what to do with the family we’ve got. When it comes to family, it seems that the very best we can do is to celebrate every single shred of goodness, learn and grow from the bad, and heal from and leave behind the ugly so as not to pass it on to the next generation.

Driving away from that sweet reunion, I was grateful once again for yet another lesson from our Gracie-Girl, and for the fact that we two legged types don’t have to sniff and wag in order to recognize family.

Sisters

There’s just something about a sister.

My one and only sister Margie turns 73 today, and it’s safe to say that I can’t imagine walking the planet without her. She’s been in my corner from day one. Literally. When I was born prematurely, and it was uncertain that I would survive, she got on her little 8 year-old knees and prayed that I would stick around, and she’s stuck with me ever since.

We couldn’t be more different - her style is fancy, mine is simple; I tend to swear, she tries not to; I love to push myself when I exercise, she has to push herself to exercise in the first place; she’s a republican, ummmm...I’m not.

Different though we may be, we couldn’t be closer, more committed or connected, and her influence has profoundly shaped my life in so many ways.

Because of her, my faith is central to who I am and what I stand for. 

Because of her, I’ve learned to make friends with the truth, no matter how inconvenient. 

Because of her, I understand the importance of creating margins in my life.

Because of her, I am (slowly) learning to laugh at myself and my many foibles.

Because of her, I set the table the day before the party. 

Because of her, my daughters have a place other than me to go to for wisdom and insight.

Because of her, I know what it is to have a safe place to tell the truth.

Because of her, I know that laughter is some of the best good medicine. 

And, because of her, I know what it is like to have someone walk by my side, come what may.

Happy Birthday M. 

Our world and my heart are better because of you. 

The Dog Days Of Christmas

Blue and Ruthie are GSP/Labradors. Young, energetic, and both in training, they belong to our daughter and her husband. This current training requires that they interact with their owners, and no one else, to establish engagement and connection. They came for Christmas to our rural mountain home, and when not outside exercising on a long line, they were in the house, tethered to one of their owners, and smack dab in the middle of the crazy, wonderful family chaos that is Christmas. All of us had agreed to support them in their training efforts, and so basically ignored the dogs the entire time they were here. As counterintuitive as it seems, it was exactly what Blue and Ruthie needed to continue their growth as happy, fun, and loyal family members. It was a challenge to stick with the program, and, as it turned out, everyone was up to the task.

Gracie is our 12 week old chocolate labradoodle. She too is in training, which currently means that her world is pretty small. When not outside with one of us, she lives happily In the laundry room that allows her to see life beyond her world through the mesh of the baby gate across the doorway. Too much stimulation, and her world is turned upside down. Kind of like a kid who has too much screen time, she doesn’t know why she’s a wreck. She just is. We asked people to support us in our training efforts by interacting with her in short visits, with calm, quiet energy, and to basically ignore her the rest of the time. As counterintuitive as it seemed, it was exactly what Gracie needed to continue her growth as a happy, fun, and loyal family member. It was a challenge to stick with the program, and, it turned out, everyone was up to the task.

Christmas was definitely different because of the dogs. Wagging tails threatened wine glasses on low tables, we almost lost the leg of lamb on the kitchen counter to Blue when no one was looking, little Gracie had a couple of accidents when we lost track of time and forgot to take her out, and sleeping arrangements had to change to accommodate the canines.

The dog days of Christmas required that we all adjust, trust one another, and let go of expectations of how things should be, and get on with enjoying them exactly as they were. Which is kind of how life is supposed to be, don’t you think?

The Shape of Gratitude

“Gratitude is the way home.”

Brené Brown

Most years, Thanksgiving means a houseful of people, an abundance of cooks in the kitchen, and little ones in the midst of it all. We subscribe to the-more-the-merrier philosophy, and most years we are more than merry.

This year however, it will be just the two of us, and we couldn’t be more thankful. Not because we don’t want everyone gathered here, but because everyone will be gathered exactly where they are supposed to be.

All four of our daughters and their families are celebrating this Thanksgiving in the way that is the very best for them. Rather than disappointment, my heart is filled with gratitude for their hard-earned wisdom to discern what will serve them well. Instead of trying to please us or anyone else, I am thankful that they are courageous enough to please themselves. Rather than sadness at their absence, I am grateful for the abundant love of my marriage.

Gratitude comes in all shapes and sizes, and if we can get let go of our expectations about how things should be, we can grab hold of the goodness in how things actually are.

Pop’s Eggnog

In the early 1930’s, James Clinton Davis was a student at Oregon State and a member of the Phi Delta Theta fraternity. One year he and a few of his fraternity brothers decided to ring in the holiday with a batch of homemade eggnog. Affectionately known to his friends as Clink, and his grandchildren as Pop, he was also my dad. Originally whipped up on a whim by a bunch of fraternity brothers, our family has been making Pop’s Eggnog ever since.

For as long as I can remember, making, drinking and sharing this family nog has marked every Christmas with a tradition as sweet and rich as that first sip. My earliest memories include loading up the family car on Christmas Eve with precious jars of the stuff, and heading out to go, as Pop called it,  “Christmas Calling”, to deliver liquid goodwill to good friends and neighbors. Later that same night, after attending their candlelight Christmas service, dear family friends would ring the doorbell, and over glasses of Pop’s eggnog, always topped with freshly grated nutmeg, we would ring in the earliest hours of a new Christmas Day. 

As life goes, looking back, some years were better than others, and some were downright painful and hard. But Pop’s Eggnog? It was always the same. Rich, sweet, tasty, and delicious. It tasted as good when we were down on our luck as it did when we were in the chips.

Pop is gone, but his eggnog and the memories gathered over the years of making, drinking, and sharing it live on. Every year, it is made, sipped, and shared by our family, now spread out in towns and cities near and far.

And today, Pop’s Eggnog is officially being served, topped of course with freshly ground nutmeg, to welcome in another holiday season at Solstice Woodfire Cafe & Bar in Hood River, Oregon, which is managed by Pop’s youngest granddaughter.

Traditions matter, and in times of turmoil, uncertainty, and stress, they can remind us that there are some things that can always be counted on no matter what. Like Pop’s Eggnog. 

Cheers Pop!