Facebook, Yearbooks, and Mortality

Facebook has its pros and cons...you all probably know about them whether you are on there or not. It's great for communicating to groups of people and staying in touch with friends who are far away, but it is also a time-sucker and can present an artificial view of the way things really are. In the past few months, Facebook has made me excited about moving back to my hometown in Orange County as I see posts from old friends and imagine what my life will be like there. I know it won't be the same as when I left after high school, but I'm not the same as I was when I graduated high school. Thankfully.

Ironically, in the last few months, I have gotten my high school yearbooks out a number of times (each time wondering why I store such a heavy box up so high with other heavy boxes balancing precariously on top) to look up faces of people I have randomly come across in our job search in Orange County. People who I wasn't sure were headed down a great path when I last knew them. People who now are employed or volunteering in ministries or jobs where they are helping others. That's pretty cool (it's worth risking my neck (literally) to pull those heavy boxes down to get out the yearbooks for verification).

In the last couple of weeks I have found out--through Facebook--about the recent and sudden deaths of two of my former high school classmates. So sad. They weren't people I was extremely close with, but I still have specific memories of each of them and it makes me sad to see their lives suddenly come to an end.

Facebook offers a strange, sweet, sad opportunity for people to publicly record their condolences and reactions to someone's death and I have spent extra time on Facebook reading and thinking about the people who have died and the people who are grieving for them. I have scrolled backwards through the posts, reading each one, seeing other names I recognize, and trying to glean information about the last days of these two people's lives. Then, suddenly, I come upon the last post that each one wrote while they were still living...and it feels like a sudden shock--like they walked into the room alive again and spoke...but then I realize it is just that I have scrolled back in time far enough to get a glimpse of them living again.

Kevin and Keri at El Dorado High School

Kevin's last posts were pictures and birthday greetings, but here is Keri's last post:  

"Boys r so excited 2 see the annual Fiesta Flambuea Night Parade.!!!! VIVA FIESTA TEXAS STYLE!! We got seats closer to the starting point!!! Love our family!!!"

What a reminder of how suddenly the end of life can come for us. Facebook by no means is the sum total of these two people's lives...they both had jobs and families and so many things that were going on that I can't see from watching through that blue and white webpage, but their last words seem to echo with a deeper meaning...one that I learned when my close friend and roommate in college was killed suddenly in an accident:  

"It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart. " (Ecclesiastes 7:2, from the Bible)

My son, Evan, under my grandmother's casket

On a happier note, I found out on Facebook recently that two of my former 6th grade classmates who went on to different high schools reconnected later in life and married. This week, they announced the birth of their daughter, Clarissa Thérèse Kuan Sambrano:

Her mother, Jean (who is diagonally up to the right from me in the first yearbook picture), posted this on my Facebook page:  
"haha Kaci! if someone had told me in 6th grade that i was going to marry Nolan (who never spoke to me) and have babies, i'd have thought they were crazy!"

Congratulations, Nolan and Jean!  

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: 
a time to be born and a time to die, 
a time to plant and a time to uproot, 
a time to kill and a time to heal, 
a time to tear down and a time to build, 
a time to weep and a time to laugh, 
a time to mourn and a time to dance, 
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, 
a time to embrace and a time to refrain, 
a time to search and a time to give up, 
a time to keep and a time to throw away, 
a time to tear and a time to mend, 
a time to be silent and a time to speak, 
a time to love and a time to hate, 
a time for war and a time for peace, 
What does the worker gain for his toil? 
I have seen the burden God has laid on men.
He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.

(Ecclesiastes 3:1-11)

Evan the T-Ball Player (A Picture Story)

(Forgive me if I don't seem very exuberant about the sport of T-Ball. I am a soccer and swimming girl. I think baseball is a little boring. But I think Evan is cute and I cheer for him. I'm just thankful Jeremy is doing all the practice with him because in addition to thinking it's a little boring, I am afraid of being hit by a careless boy with a bat or that hard little white ball.)

Backyard practice wearing his uniform that in no way looks like it is supposed to (I am told that the uniforms were made poorly and that his team is supposed to be black and grey.  They did get new hats later).

But he IS cute, and he is #1!

First up to bat!  I know, it is surprising that a 4-year-old can run with that hat on, but he can!

How long will he unabashedly wave to me from the dugout?  I love it.

He actually hits better if the ball is pitched to him.  (I don't envy Coach Jose's job of having to be so near to a kid swinging a bat.  I think HE should be wearing a helmet, too.)

Run Evan!  Run!

Good form, leading off first base.  Not sure he exactly understands what is happening, but he plays the part very well.

Starting to lose a little focus...

Now making shapes with his fingers.  And where are all the outfielders?

Digging in the dirt, all focus gone for the moment...

But he makes it to home plate!  (It's not very competitive, folks.)

More of the Lundgren trademark nose-picking.  We'll work on that.  One of these days.

Did I mention that he is cute?

The cheering section.  Fighting boredom with snacks.  And a little sunbathing.

Hey, a sit-and-sit stroller...I should invent that.  Looks like my kids just did.

Outfield.  Oh, outfield.  I remember playing outfield when I was a kid in P.E.  I hated it for how boring and unsocial it was, but I also liked it because it was away from the action and the chance of me missing a catch or getting hit with that hard ball were minimized.  And I could make clover-flower-chain necklaces for all my friends.  But this isn't about me, it's about Evan.  Let's see how he does...

Talking to imaginary friends.  (Like Sam the Soccer Player, if you recall.)

More nose picking.  My kids never took pacifiers or had blankies.  They just had their noses for comfort.  Seriously!

A moment of focus and game-facing...

...and then on to dirt-playing.

More dirt-playing.

(Maybe we could stick a Hot Wheels in his pocket to play with in the dirt next time.)

Face-making.  And I didn't even get a picture of when he was laying on his stomach on the baseline...for quite a few moments before he was gently encouraged to get up by the Coach.  I would have encouraged him in a much sterner louder voice but I feel like the only parent yelling anything, so I bit my tongue.

Time for the post-game pep-talk by Coach Jimmy, where, even though they aren't allowed to keep score, he tells them they beat the other team by 112 to 2 or something fun like that.  I like Coach Jimmy.  And Coach Jose.

On to high-fives and good games for the other team and then snack, where Evan always declares "This is my luckiest day EVER!" because apparently, I buy really boring snacks compared to what he gets at T-Ball.

(I think it might be his favorite part of T-Ball.  And practicing with Coach Daddy.)

Here's to Hoping They Never Change

I was looking out the kitchen window while washing the dishes yesterday and I saw something so cute, I had to go out and take some pictures. (It kind of reminded me of one of my favorite country songs that says "I've been here and everywhere, seen paintings brushed by the hand of God/But the view I love the most is my front porch looking in")

And here's something (I swore I would never do) that's slightly ridiculous and totally adorable at the same time...

I've just been pretty enamored with my kiddos lately...I just want to freeze them in time!  I know I'm going to blink and they are going to be big enough to shave and go places by themselves and (heaven forbid) ride motorcycles.

But right now, I love the excitement they get over new dresses from yard sales and swings in the yard...

And how cute this one looks all dressed up in her pretty dress that grandma sent her

My kids pick their noses a lot...just an FYI

And how they think it's really exciting to read their Bibles, even if they can't read yet...

And how good of friends they are and how hard they play...

And wrestling time (otherwise known as Total Domination) that happens almost every night.  I don't want them to get too big and grown up to be on the bed together like that!  (Already they do chest hair inspections on themselves when they have their shirts off...ew).

And I don't ever want to give up the snuggles and reading "Goodnight Moon" (and looking for the mouse on every page).

But I do like going to the park and sitting on a blanket and watching them play...not having to hover over them because they are too small to climb by themselves.

And I do love watching them gain new skills and develop their own interests...

And watching them make their first real friends besides each other is really sweet...

But still, I don't want them to get self-conscious and embarrassed about playing dress-up and make-believe!

And I don't want to keep taking it for granted that their answer to "What do you want to play?" will always be "With you!".

Even though I don't want them to grow, I know there are other flavors of motherhood to come...like hearing them share their own thoughts and ideas, watching them learn to make good choices that aren't based on immediate rewards, and seeing them have families of their own (okay, that's way too far in the future...I got a little carried away). This weekend, Jeremy got to baptize some youth group students at church. Our kids sat front and center on the stage to watch--Evan was first a little appalled at the thought of Daddy dunking people underwater, but after the first one, he announced loudly (from the front row, remember?) "Oh, we go under for WAY longer than them!" as if it were a swimming competition. Despite my children's un-pious reactions, a sweet moment transpired when Jeremy introduced a couple fathers who baptized their young teenage daughters. There wasn't a dry eye in the place as one of the father's said in a voice broken with emotion, "I baptize you, my sister and my daughter." I held tight to Annie on my lap (mostly because she kept lifting up her dress and showing her underwear to the rest of the church), but also because though I desperately want her to stay little, I know that the day I see her grow (hopefully) into a young lady who loves Jesus will be a day of great tears and celebration.