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Running When Your Father Calls May 31, 2002

Yesterday afternoon we met some friends for lunch. Looking up through the large plate glass windows to the east, I could see Hope crossing the parking lot. Hope America is our three-year-old. Currently she is the baby of the family. I jumped from the chair and ran to the door. She was crossing the parking lot to get to her older sisters who were leaving for a little shopping. I called to her as I ran out the door.
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Summer Evenings May 20, 2002

One late spring evening my son and I fished a popular spot on the Muskegon River without success or any sign of fish. The sun was coming down the sky and we knew it would be dark in a little over an hour. We looked at each other and in wordless agreement waded toward the bank. We considered calling it a night but agreed to try another hole until sundown. We drove to a favorite spot, climbed down the bank, and eased into the water.
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Lunch Hour in Utica May 13, 2002

If my life were a movie I would fast-forward though Junior High. My Junior High years were painful. Like every Junior High kid I was dealing with awakening sexuality, and struggling with who I was and how I would make my mark in life. But I was sure I was alone with these strange feelings.
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Heidi’s Swing May 6, 2002

Today I took Hope for a walk in the Arboretum near out house. We watched the water run over rocks beneath one of the little stone footbridges. We saw butterflies and listened to new birdsongs. We saw trees in the bud and in the blossom. (The Dogwoods opened this weekend. That calls for celebration). I held Hope’s soft chubby hand and we looked at tiny violets and dandelions. Hope thinks dandelions are beautiful flowers and gathered a bouquet for mom. She doesn’t know that most people consider them a nuisance.
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