Words and Pictures

Today is my Birthday. And although I know that realistic life expectancy falls somewhere in the seventies, as a child and young adult 100 always seemed like a better number to me. So now at 51, by anyone’s math, I’m probably on the back nine.

It’s a gorgeous fall weekend in Omaha. The leaves are golden and falling and we’re enjoying clear skies and nearing 50 deg F (8 C). The sun feels warm on my face and when I stop and sit my imagination runs. And sitting here in our home on this my third such birthday since launching My Quest I’ve just looked back over the list of my thirty-some previous posts. All these assembled words serve to remind me of all the many events to unfold in our lives over the past two years - many forgotten if not for the effort of committing them to the written page. And I’m left to wonder if every two years has been so eventful or if somehow these last two years have been different. I know the answer. Immediately I regret not picking up a pen twenty or thirty or forty years earlier. High school, college, early marriage, young daughters, career growth, maturing marriage, and growing daughters - what forgotten thoughts might now exist?

Fortunately I’ve always been a picture taker. And we have literally thousands of pictures that have captured so many treasured moments in our lives and in the lives of our children. We have countless photographs of treasured looks and remembered events and they seem to comprise the bulk of our memories. That’s how memories live sometimes – in pictures if not in words. But pictures fail to portray the image of the photographer – as if not present and remaining unaffected. Words are vastly superior in this regard. Words convey thoughts and feelings, joys and fears, excitement and contentedness. And I imagine years into the future, grandchildren could choose to read these words and would then know their grandfather more so than simply by a faded photograph in a long forgotten book. More so, I hope, than my scarce knowledge of my grandparents and theirs.

My Daughter's Eyes

In my daughter's eyes I am a hero
I am strong and wise and I know no fear
But the truth is plain to see
She was sent to rescue me
I see who I want to be
In my daughter's eyes...
-Martina McBride; In My Daughter's Eyes

Over the past month I’ve been thinking a lot about Matt & Jenna’s wedding. I’ve been trying desperately to identify what it was about the wedding that was so personal to me – special enough to merit perhaps the most important family event I've written about since launching this blog. There were so many moments, so many treasures. How does a father process so much joy and boil it all down into a quantifiable sensation or easily communicated anecdote? What was it?

Was it the venue? The winery and grounds at DeLille are spectacular anyway but on this day, everything was perfect. (Pictures) Was it the wine? We had plenty; after all we were at a winery in the number two wine producing State in the Nation. Was it the pure joy that emanated from the faces of Denise’s parents and Matt’s mother Fran? They were each so delighted to be there together with family and friends. Was it the pride that shown on the faces of Matt’s father and step mother? It was so nice to meet them and we had such a nice time in our short time together.

Was it the peace I felt in sharing this day with my Dad and knowing that my Mom was with us in spirit? I know this day was bittersweet for him – mostly sweet though I hope. Was it the sudden and unexpected clearing of skies and ceasing of rain precisely upon the commencement of procession and the Trumpet Voluntary? I attribute this to an answer to many unified prayers and a reserved favor from my mother.

Was it Matt's first glimpse of the bride and the wedding dress? Was it the colors of the trees and the flowers and the sky and the pond and the meadow and the dresses and the tuxedos? These were all so vibrant.

Was it the apropos reading of James Dillet Freeman's "Blessing for a Marriage" during the ceremony?

"May your marriage bring you all the excitement a marriage should bring, and may life grant you also patience, tolerance, and understanding. May you always need one another - not so much to fill your emptiness as to help you to know your fullness. A mountain needs a valley to be complete. The valley does not make the mountain less, but more. And the valley is more a valley because it has a mountain towering over it. So let it be with Matthew and Jenna. May you need one another, but not out of weakness. May you want one another, but not out of lack. May you entice one another, but not compel one another. May you embrace one another, but not out encircle one another. May you succeed in all-important ways with one another, and not fail in the little graces...May you have happiness, and may you find it in making one another happy. May you have love, and may you find it in loving one another."

Was it standing arm in arm with Jenna as the Pastor delivered his question of consent towards me, her life long watchman? I froze, delaying the delivery of my single line only to be so sweetly reminded under my daughter’s breath – “Her Mother and I…Her Mother and I.” Was it the gentle acceptance of her hand as Matt received my Jenna from me at the altar? Was it the spectacular late summer evening Seattle weather – 65, calm and drying?

Was it the Father-Daughter dance and that wonderful song "In My Daughter's Eyes"? (Click here to listen) I'll treasure those few moments with Jenna forever. Was it the fabulous assortment of food - crostini with crab and artichoke, filet medallions with peppercorn and wild mushroom demi-glaze, grilled salmon with sweet Thai chili sauce? Whoa! I can still taste the food. I wish I had tasted more of it.

Was it the warmth Denise and I felt from the presence of so many of our dear friends and relatives who traveled so far to share this event with us? This was huge. Was it the comfort in the countless friends of Jenna and Matt who introduced themselves and shared with Denise and me a bit of their common bond with our daughter and new son-in-law?

Was it the knowledge that this day, and all of their future anniversaries will forever fall on “International Talk like a Pirate Day” and the surprise existence of sixty or so black eye patches on the dance floor? Me wonders who'll be takin' the blame for that deed...ARRRR. Was it the overall gayety of the reception - the music, the busy dance floor, the laughter? (Pictures) Was it the wine?

Was it the happiness evident on the faces of M & K as they proudly participated in the marriage of their big sister? I love that these girls love each other so much. Was it the handling of my Mother’s 58 year old wedding veil as the wrap to Jenna’s bouquet, a tradition so masterfully imagined by my niece? Was it the night time exodus of the new bride and groom under the brilliant archway of 3 foot long sparklers held high by so many well wishers? Was in the somberness that crept upon me following her departure?

Was it one of these? Was it all of these? …Perhaps. Or maybe it was all of these and none of these.

It’s taken me a month to sort through a flurry of emotions and the endless memories of that day. And after much contemplation I’ve concluded that the single most significant treasure wasn’t about the wedding at all. It was more about the “marriage”.

For me the sweetest song of the day was the utter joy and pure contentment that I saw in my daughter’s eyes. I could feel it – penetrating my aching heart. And I trust that her Mother saw it too. That look in her eyes is what I’ve lived towards for all of these many years as her daddy, her father, and her friend. It’s what makes a father’s heart beat - that wonderful look of true happiness on his child's face. And the stolen glances, of wanting, of respecting and of loving, between Matt and Jenna on this day were an added comfort that will remain with Denise and me and warm our parental hearts forever.

...In my daughter's eyes I can see the future
A reflection of who I am and what will be
Though she'll grow and someday leave
Maybe raise a family
When I'm gone I hope you see
how happy she made me
For I'll be there
In my daughter's eyes.
-Martina McBride; In My Daughter's Eyes

Click here for more wedding day pictures.

First and Golz – Advancing Towards Marriage

Looking back, the play-by-play accounts seem rather traditional if not predictable. Daughter graduates from college and moves to follow a new career. Time passes. Daughter meets a young man through mutual acquaintances and interest blooms. The young man meets daughter’s parents. Time passes. The young couple join the daughter’s sisters and parents on a family trip abroad. The young man proposes. A wedding date is selected. A wedding dress is located. Planning ensues, announcements are sent and more time passes. Family and friends converge upon wedding city. There is much excitement and readiness. The wedding unfolds. New son-in-law whisks daughter away from the protection of her father. (This is the onerous part). Father reflects and is comforted by the honor of the young man and the unquestionable happiness of the daughter. Time passes…

And so it was that our first daughter Jenna married Matthew Golz. It has taken me a month to collect my thoughts - and I am happy.

Over the past twenty years DeLille Cellars in Redmond, Washington has become the State’s premiere producer of Bordeaux and Rhone inspired wines. The winery properties project a fantasy like image with its restored 1890’s farmhouse, grazing sheep, dreamy soft meadow, trickling brook and rich landscaping. Being there, one could easily lose their bearings of time and place. The canopy of trees creates contrasts of defused light and deep shadows reminiscent of the French Expressionist works of Claude Monet and Vincent Van Gogh. And the winery and 10-acre site overlooking the Woodinville Valley offers a splendid venue for a late summer in Seattle wedding not to mention a wonderful location for a fabulous wedding reception.

The day before the wedding would be a busy one. And as 11:00 arrived, so would we converge upon DeLille Cellars for last minute instruction from the coordinator on procedures and placement for the upcoming ceremony…practice.

The day offered an ideal 70 degrees and sunshine and everything was as it should be. The mothers were teary. The bride and her father were joyful. The groom and best man were nervous. Our stars had aligned.

Following rehearsal Denise and I volunteered to deliver the “children” to their vacation lodge where they would remain until after the honeymoon. Kasey is a Shepherd, Chow, Lab mix and Maddox is a Rottweiler, Lab mix. They were each rescued from previous circumstances and have become wonderfully playful pets. The trip to doggy camp in Snohomish, Washington was just over an hour. They seem to like riding in the back seat of a small car. It’s easier to lick the back of the driver’s ears from there.

That evening was a formal rehearsal dinner in the cellar dining room of Januik/Novelty Hill Winery in Woodinville, Washington. (Click here for a few pictures) This welcome reception was a wonderful opportunity for far traveled guests to meet and greet the wedding couple without the distractions and constraints of time of tomorrow’s wedding reception.

Januik/Novelty Hill is a state-of-the-art winery. It is also an exceptional piece of architecture that has won several design awards including honor awards from the American Institute of Architects and the International Interior Design Association. Its harmonious use of simple materials, concrete, wood and glass mirror identical traits necessary in winemaking. An honest blend of a few materials that, in the end, offer a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. (Click here for a few pictures) We had a wonderful time that seemed to end all too quickly.

Morning arrived with a vengeance. The girls were delivered to a ready room at Willows Lodge, a mere half-mile from DeLille. Here the moms, the brides maids and the bride would do whatever it is that girls do in preparation for a wedding. They would have at their disposal a hair stylist, makeup artist, photographer, unlimited Starbucks, mimosa and about five hours to squeeze it all in. (Click here for a few pictures) I was quite content to leave them and join Matt for a relaxing breakfast at the nearby Barking Frog. Then several hours later the guys all converged upon DeLille for beer and brats on the barbie for lunch – a pre-wedding ritual of sorts. Very manly.

I would depart early as it was my privilege to sneak a peek at the just readied bride and then to deliver Jenna and her mother and sisters to her future. We all sensed that this day would be spectacular.

The Leap

I’ve never jumped from an airplane. But I imagine that if I did, there would have to be a great deal of preparation – mentally and physically. Then as the day for the jump approached, there would be moments of apprehension and some nerves. I’d worry…”Has this been thought through? Was there anything more that should have been done? Can the chute be trusted? Will I be different when it’s over? Will everything be OK?”.

Then as the aircraft ascends the “jump” would take on a life of its own and things would just happen without conscious action. The plane would climb and level out. The pilot would give the instructor a nod. The instructor would make a few last second adjustments to my equipment and then signal the all clear. Then everyone in the plane would look at me, waiting as I kneeled at the open door and gazed out into the unknown - my mind racing, heart pounding, adrenalin flowing. Then the instructor would roll his eyes at my hesitancy and shove me out of the plane. I’d role and tumble and everything would be a blur as I plummet ever faster toward the earth and I’m all aware but incapable of grasping anything or comprehending everything at once so I’d scream and scream and scream, but no one would hear and everyone would be watching my silent descent from the plane above and from the ground below and I’d be alone in the world for those few minutes except for the buffeting of air and the tugging of gravity and the camera man freefalling beside me to capture every thoughtless expression of emotion and then I’d suddenly jerk upward as the chute deploys...It’s over. Then I’d settle into a peaceful serenity as my brain catches up with my body and it finally registers that everything will be fine. And then for the first time that day I’d smile. And I’d be so happy that the slightest breeze would be capable of altering my movement. And I’d float...and I’d float...and I’d just know that everything was to be better than before – because I jumped…because I trusted the chute.

That is exactly what a wedding is like! I don't know how else to describe it.

Two weeks ago, as Denise and I witnessed the marriage of our daughter I'd liken the experience to the thrill of skydiving. There’s the waiting and anticipation and then the sudden blinding flurry, almost too much to take in so fast - too fast. Everything seemed to be happening and I was there watching it all as if remotely. I was aware of everything but remained incapable of dividing myself into it all at once. And then as quickly and as intensely as it began, it was over.

As the proud Father of the Bride, I’m still sailing a bit above the ground. But indeed I’ve survived the ordeal and couldn’t be happier.