Merry Christmas!!! We love you all!!
When it Feels Good Leaving
December 20, 2007 at 3:44 am (Caleb)
Tags: Bye, Son
So to make up for Ashlyn commanding me to sit down and not leave (see previous post), my son went and totally redeemed my prodigy. This morning I woke up to a dark house, quietly got ready, typed a few blog comments, grabbed my jacket, headed out to the garage, opened the garage door and snuck into my Jeep. I fired it up, turned on my lights, put it into reverse and began pulling away out of the garage. As I did, I looked out the windshield and saw the house-garage door swing open. My son Caleb came barreling out, barefoot and in his sweats (he refuses to wear pajamas), running through puddles of water, waving. “Bye Dad!!!!” he shouted over and over; his face was gleaming with joy over the fact he woke up and made it outside before I left.
I said goodbye, my face gleaming with joy and heart melting to mush. Talk about those 5-second moments that make your day……actually, my week. Love ya bud!!
When it Hurts to Leave
December 18, 2007 at 12:28 am (Ashlyn)
Tags: goodbye, leaving, sad, sit
“Bye Dada!” are words I hear often from my 2yr-old daughter Ashlyn. Mostly they come enthusiastically each morning when I leave for work. But sometimes I just grab my cell phone, “Bye Dada!” Or pick up my shoes off the floor, “Bye Dada!” Or put my keys away, “Bye Dada!” Her typical enthusiasm in saying goodbye is what made one particular night all the more difficult.
A friend and I had planned on getting together for coffee in order to catch up on life and talk theology (if there was such a thing as a theologian-nerds, we’d fit right in). I had been home for about an hour and went into the bathroom to say goodbye to Ashlyn who was bathing. Jen was in there with her. I walked up to the bathtub, leaned over and planted a kiss on her wet head. “Bye Ashlyn!” I walked out of the bathroom and heard an “Oooohhhhh, how sad,” from Jen. Curious, I turned around and walked back into the bathroom. There sat Ashlyn, soaking wet in the tub with the biggest pouting lip and puffy eyes I’d ever seen. My heart broke. She was not happy to see her Dada go. I told her I had to go and that I loved her, half expecting her traditional “Bye Dada”……but not this time.
Pointing to the toilet next to the bathtub, she declared, “No Dada. Sit!”
“But Ashlyn, I have….”“No Dada. Sit!” she said even more adamantly, her face changing from pouting to sternness.
I told her I loved her and slowly left, leaving my heart there in the tub with her.
That night was one of those moments in parenthood that both brought me joy and broke my heart. Joy that I’m loved by such a precious child; heartbreak that my non-presence caused so much pain in one whom I love and who loves me.
Giggle, Giggle…
December 10, 2007 at 1:19 am (Ashlyn, Cheddar)
Tags: , Dog, Yogurt
Giggle, giggle……that is what we heard from our bathroom this morning as we were rushing to get out the house before church. Jennifer said, “Oh, great. Ashlyn is eating and probably feeding Cheddar.” I thought to myself, man, does Jen know our kids. But, me being me, I said with a smirk, “Why do you always assume the worst when you hear our kids laughing? But I’m sure you’re right…I’ll go check it out.” So I stepped out into the hall and into the kitchen, where I saw this:
Nothing new…see this all the time. But then I rounded the table where I saw our Golden Retriever, Cheddar, covered in yogurt. Through my smile, I asked Ashlyn what happened and she said simply, “Paint Cheshu……messy.” I had to show Jen this. I led Cheddar down the hall into the bathroom where, on perfect cue, he shook yogurt all over our bathroom. Kids, dogs, and a goofy dad…what a great combo.
Yep, This Tree is Perfect…
December 9, 2007 at 4:39 am (Uncategorized)
Tags: Christmas Tree, Perfect, Ugly
This year, for our Christmas tree, we decided to cut––in more ways than one. First we decided to cut how much money we spent and looked for the cheapest place/tree we could find. Second, we literally decided to cut…to cut down our own tree. So we called up all the tree farms in the area and found the cheapest one: $24 for any tree.
We loaded up in the van and headed out to find the perfect Christmas tree; for the Johnson’s that is. What we ended up bringing home had to be the most scrawny and ugly tree they had, but to us, it is perfect because we hiked together, found the tree together, cut it down together, carried it together, drank apple cider together, loaded it into (yes, into–I told you it was skinny) the van together, set it up together and laughed together as we chose our lightest ornaments as too not break the branches. Afterwards, Caleb looked at it and said, “Yep, this tree is perfect.”
Somehow, not having the perfect tree feels perfect.
Grandpa, Harry Hallman…Honor and Tradition
December 2, 2007 at 5:19 am (Grandpa)
Tags: Air Force, Death, Grandpa, Memorial, Taps
This afternoon our family gathered from all over the country in San Jose to honor Harry Hallman, the family’s patriarch, who passed away on Wednesday, November 14, 2007. It was a time of laughter, tears, memories, stories, love, family and military tradition. Among being a son, husband, dad, grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great-grandfather…he was also a retired Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force. His service garnered him the presence of the Air Force Honor Guard.
At the end of the memorial, 6 solders marched up on stage carrying a folded American flag. They proceeded to unfold it and then fold it back up in the all familiar triangle shape—military style. We then followed them to the courtyard of the church where there were four more soldiers standing at attention, three of whom were holding M-14s (assault rifles). One called out orders and the other three obeyed, swinging their guns around, aiming and firing three times into the air. The sound echoed in the courtyard. Then silence. The awe and respect was deeply apparent. Another soldier, standing in the corner, swung out a bugle and “snapped” it to his mouth. Three notes later, not a dry eye existed. The soldier continued playing the hauntingly beautiful and universally known tune to honor an American soldier who has passed—Taps.
I held myself together during the whole memorial service until those notes played. The emotional power of that tune, the heritage it holds, just melted me and I wept. We were witnessing a heritage and tradition that far preceded us and will far proceed us. This man, Harry Hallman, our grandfather, was being honored in a way few are, and the witness of it broke us in its presence. After the bugle stopped, the commanding officer turned to the family, extended the flag and spoke words of honor before surrendering it. Those who were not weeping, were now.
There is something to be said about tradition and ceremony when done properly, in respect and honor. It can move the soul and cause us to weep in the presence of him who is being honored.
Hey! That’s our blanket!
December 1, 2007 at 3:32 am (Caleb)
Tags: Blanket, Caleb, Teacher
Caleb woke up really early this morning, came into our room, walked over to Jennifer’s side of the bed and said, “Mom, Mom, remember?” To which Jennifer replied, “Uuuuuuh….yea honey….give me a sec.” She got up and they disappeared.
Twenty minutes later after I rolled out of bed, shaved, got dressed and went into the living room. There I saw my son with scissors and permanent marker in hand. He was sitting next to our green micro-fleece blanket…well, part of it anyhow. The other parts were spread all over the floor. I gave Jennifer a knowing nod with my eyebrows raised in a question. She looked back at me with the look that said, “Don’t say a word.” Though our nice warm blanket was shredded, I listened and kept my mouth shut.
It was then that I saw our blanket’s new shape. On the carpet in our living room was a giant green heart. In the middle sat Caleb, leaning over writing. I read his words. He was writing messages of thanks and love to his first-grade teacher, Mrs. Hoffmore, on the green heart-blanket that used to keep us warm. Today was his teacher’s last day in his classroom and they were having a party for her. This was his gift. The cool thing is, he thought of the idea himself.
So, we are short one blanket.
But Mrs. Hoffmore now has a gift that will warm her in more than one way.
