Sonograms

I found myself sitting in a dark sterile room, watching a screen that revealed the inner workings of my son. The last time I looked at him via sonogram I watched his head bob about, watched his little heart pumping away, found comfort in knowing he was healthy and strong. The doctor at the time told me he was definately a he, how big he'd be when delivered and that his kidneys looked good. 

But this time was different. My baby was now 15 1/2 and we were once again looking at his heart. He stands at 6'4, handsome with sparkling hazel eyes. 

Week before last they had heard a murmor, a funny skip to the beat of his heart. We weren't completely alarmed, but as I sat there quietly accessing the information a creeping question came from the darkness of my mind. "What if?" What if there was something there to worry about. Mothers lost their children on basketball and football fields on a seemingly yearly basis due to uncovered heart issues. I prayed for my son, remembering all the ways God has blessed us before, undeservedly, and knowing He is faithful. 

The doctor asked a few technical questions, then a few more about Nash's basketball team. He then turned on the light. 

He gave us the report that his heart was very healthy, and that the slight sound they had heard was due to his heart being healthier than others. All was well once again and I was reminded how many times my God has been so very good to us.

Taking the First to College

My son loaded up the car with his surfboard, javelins, basketball, computer, a refrigerator and then whatever clothes would fit in the crevices of the car. We left for UC San Diego on Wednesday, and now my husband and I are home, but a part of me is far away. 

I've known this day would come, was coming, was that week, that day, but I haven't let myself completely melt down. I'd like to forego that part. Meltdowns come more frequently due to hormones and life changes. No, I want to put that off, but it is truly nibbling away.

. I don't note his absense, I feel it. I don't notice he's gone, I just feel as if a part of me is missing. 

I reminded myself on the car ride home that he is a gift from God, and one that is simply on loan. I've lifted him up in prayer, and with hands wide open, with tears came to the realization that my job is mostly done, the rest is up to God. I also know that God does great work, so I'll rest in Him. 

He'll be home for Thanksgiving, until then I'll work my way through the missing...

These are Great Days

Winston Churchill once said, "These are not dark days: these are great days - the greatest days our country has ever lived." His country was in one of the worst wars imagineable. Children went to bed, often hungry, black curtains covered the windows, fathers and grandfathers far from home. Churchill was not reflecting on the great comfort of his day, but the great character. 

Tough times prove tough character. Obama would have you believe that these are the worst of days. When pushed about the economy, he admits it has experienced growth over the past 7 years but on the campaign trail he twists it to sound like we're on the edge of a great depression. When pressed about the war, he stammers to admits the troops have turned us toward success, but on the campaign trail all you hear is that we must salvage what we can, turn tail and run. This is not the kind of character that reflects America. 

The McCain/Pallin ticket provides a solid foundation for America. They have strong ideals, they're beacons for real change, and their character has been weighed and measured. They believe in the strength of the American Army and the ability of this country to produce its own oil, find new sources of energy and ensure that its citizens maintain their financial independence. The fact that McCain went outside the usual party procedures in choosing Palin proves he truly stands for change while Obama's choice of Biden proved the democratic party maintains control and the proverbial rut holds the wheel firmly in its grasp. It reflects a lack of character, a weak commitment to change and politics as usual. 

Finally, when it comes to character the McCain/Palin ticket is comprised of two strong people. In the face of adversity they have chosen at a great price to hold firm to their strong convictions. 

McCain's military service speaks for itself, having survived a six year capture in which he was tortured, suffering every humiliation, leaving him physically scarred for life. That is character that stands strong in the face of death. When Palin protected her pregnancy, knowing her child would struggle, and again when her daughter revealed she was pregnant, Palin showed considerable strength of character. She could have quietly taken the "medical" route, saved a bit of political face, but she didn't. That's character that stands strong in the face of life. 

Obama is charismatic, articulate, but he lacks character. Character is what makes this Nation strong, and in times like this we need leaders of character at the helm. 

Can one President drastically change our country?

 I've heard a number of teens state that they don't believe that one President can  really make that big of an impact in a term. One inparticular added that the country will still be the same after four years so it doesn't matter who you vote for. Should citizens really get upset, fearful or giddy about a particular candidate, or does it really matter? 

Saturday Mornings

The house is still fairly dark, we're snuggled in for our one day of sleeping when Nick yells, "Come on Nash - get up!" 

I fight to open my eyes with the initial thought, "why is someone yelling! What time is it?" It's only a bit past 8. Ralph's side of the bed is cool already. I smile, remembering how he said he'd sleep in. When he goes to bed friday he is a tired working man at the end of the week, but Saturday morning the little boy in him wakes up early ready to play. It's one more thing I love about him.

Nick and Nash are off to surf. They will be there all morning, come home hungry and tired and still have enough in themselves to go out late afternoon. But today they'll stay close to home as friends are coming over. I like living in Aptos. The beach is to the west, rich farm land to our south, the city to our north and mountains of redwoods to our east. I know I will love it even more when we're settled finally into our permanent house. "Thank you Lord, your providence is abundant". 

I remember Nori Villalon

When I was 13 my father decided to retire, so mid-year he moved our family from Saratoga, CA to Hollister, CA... a bit of a change, actually, "drastic".

The first day of school at Hollister High was the worst day of my life. I cried at lunch. I dragged myself through the first week and by the second week decided I needed to make a friend or two. Nori Villalon was in my P.E. class and even though she was only 5'4", she scared my 5'10" frame fairly well. However, I don't think she ever knew that.

I remember blowing my hair dry after P.E. with the hand-dryer, (yes, we did that back then - the Farrah Fawcett hairstyles demanded a high circulation of air) and looking off to the side was a girl putting on her mascara. I remember I had looked a bit longer at her thinking she looked like a hispanic Sophia Loren, she was quite pretty. She stopped mid-brush, looked me straight in the eye and grimaced, "what you lookin' at?"

I used my iron-clad face and said, "I don't know what I'm lookin' at"... not very original, but anyway, I gave the "show-down" stare right back. The bell rang and we went left gym. By the end of the week we were friends.

I soon found out she was the other half of the "Jessie and Nori" duo. They were the social equivalent of "Frankie and Johnnie" or "Bonnie and Clyde", (only without the crime). They cruised together at lunch in Jessie's white, lowered Lincoln Continental. By March of that year it was learned that Nori was pregnant at the age of 13.

even though the two of them seemed so committed, it wasn't long before Jessie was on to the next chapter of his love life- with a new girl. While Jessie became a stereotypical male chauvenist, fathering other children, it was Nori who taught me something about love. Nori knew enough to let God be God.

When Roseanna was born she was absolutely beautiful. Nori had dropped out of school and struggled to make ends meet, taking things on herself like a woman twice her age. I remember her saving for weeks to buy Roseanna a new dress or pair of shoes. I don't remember her ever putting herself first, it was always about Roseanna.

When I was 16 we got an apartment and hung out together. I would watch her bite serrano peppers alternating it with her bologne sandwich - she was one tough chick. She was the kind of friend that would shoot straight, tell you the truth, look you in the eye and demand the truth in kind. She was a terrific friend.

There wasn't anything she wouldn't do for her daughter and when the time came she moved to Washington State to live close to her mom and get a job that would eventually lead her off the path of welfare. We lost track of eachother in the early 80's, but sometimes in the store I will see serrano peppers and tell my boys how Nori would eat them straight.

I miss Nori, and I hope her story inspired others back then, I know it still inspires me today.

I honor my son, Nicholas Sterling Howe

Every year Little Elm High School honors the top 10 graduates with a very nice dinner. They ask the parents of these honored students to write a little something on them to share with the others present. Here's what I said about our Nick....

Since Nicholas was very young, his grandfather would tell the boys time and time again, “Boys, I want you to be Christian Scholar Athletes - in that order”! Nicholas has become just that. He has excelled scholastically, competed honorably and most importantly valued his walk with Jesus Christ. His love of learning, nurtured by a God-given curiosity, has served him well. He is a gifted athlete, coachable and hard working.

He is at times a philosopher, a competitor, a theologian, an editor for his mother, “Max” where the “Wild Things Are”, the artful Dodger, a race-car driver, a knight in shining armor, and sometimes a junk-food-eating, George-Lopez-watching, messy-roomed-teenager. But he is always a loving son, intuitive to those around him and grounded in a solid foundation built on love, laughter, wisdom and honesty.

Ralph and I are extremely blessed and honored to be his parents. He is a loving son, a giving brother and most importantly he is a man of integrity, purpose and passion. He has brought honor to himself, his family and his future. Nick’s motto is:“Stat Fortuna Domus”, or “The fortune of the House Stands”. Nick, you are our fortune, our victory of great value, and we love you very much. Thank you! Truckloads of “Red M & M’s”!

Good Morning Boys

Rising from the depths of slumber, before my eyes open, my mind begins to ripple. I search out the warmth of my husband, most times finding he is up before me. Then I compose thoughts of my boys, what they need, where are they going, the way they looked the day before. My Nick sleeps somewhere else now, working, going to college. I think of how quickly he grew out of his red high tops and I wonder what book he's reading now. My Nolan is an early riser, like his dad. He is loud and happy, ripping any semblance of sleep from my mind. Nash drags himself from the Land of Nod, eyes closed walking to the shower, exhausted from growing in the night. Nemo cracks an eye open, watching, not wanting to struggle against the morning chill, but not wanting to miss anything either. I pray before my feet hit the ground, "Lord watch over my men, they are precious, thank you for another day with them". God is good, always.