My wife’s grandfather, Ralph Adams, died at the end of last month. On May 3rd we attended his funeral in Sun City West, Arizona.

I never knew Ralph when he was in good health and at the height, or near the height, of his powers. I’ve been told that he had Shy-Drager syndrome, more recently known as multiple system atrophy - a degenerative neurological disorder similar to Parkinson’s Disease. Formerly the life of the party, his illness made him quiet. I could only imagine his former self.

I learned of one touching moment from Ralph’s last year of life. Greatly debilitated by his disease, one of his daughters was attending to him one day when he said to her, “Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?” It was a sign of his attention to others, even when he was suffering greatly himself.

Ralph was one of eight children from a remarkable Kansas farm family. From humble beginnings in the small town of Clay Center, Kansas, Ralph and his seven brothers and sisters went on to success in all corners of this country as doctors, business people, homemakers, and engineers. Ralph became a chemical engineer and an expert on asphalt, eventually rising to a high position at the Mobil Oil Corporation in its New York City headquarters.

Ralph and his wife Neva eventually retired to Sun City West, where he had more time to pursue his passion for playing bridge. Ralph was highly involved in community work his entire life, serving for a time as a city council member in Missouri and devoting time to Kiwanis and other organizations. He was instrumental in establishing Shepherd of the Hills United Methodist Church in Sun City West. See also Ralph’s obituary from the Daily News-Sun.

We are saddened by Ralph’s passing. Another member of a remarkable generation is gone, and we seek to build on what Ralph and others have given us.

Our son is 1 month old today. Our Christmas baby, who could not lift his head, who seemed feather-light, can now hold his head up and scan his surroundings, can now weigh down our shoulders. The child who did not seem to focus his eyes can now gather us in with his gaze. The little one who could only flail unfamiliar limbs can now grasp with his hands. And most remarkable of all, the face that before was only able to grimace or register a lack of affect can now express a smile.

We are still short of sleep much of the time, particularly my wife, who must handle the nighttime nursing, while I do the graveyard diaper changes. But then we didn’t have children to make life easier, I’ve thought to myself. We did it because of the rewards they bring, despite the heavy demands.

Those demands include lots of laundry–one, two, or even three loads a day! Unwilling to pile up our landfills with disposable diapers, we use cloth diapers, as we did with our daughter, and they are the first load of laundry every day.

During the first couple of weeks after the birth, I did more housework and child care in order to let my wife rest and heal. She is stronger now and taking up most of the child care duties, since she has taken the semester off from her teaching job, while I need to earn some income doing my test development work.

We’ve experienced a somewhat isolated existence since the baby’s arrival. That is partly a function of the baby, but also a function of the cold weather we’ve been having lately. Yesterday morning the thermometer read 16 below, and we’ve had two other mornings that were just as cold in this long cold snap.

We look forward to warmer weather and more smiles from this wonderful baby.

Our second child, a son, was born early on Christmas Day, not long after the last post! We are thrilled to welcome him into the world! The last few days have been busy ones as we’ve been caring for him and my wife.

The photo above was taken several hours after birth. It’s amazing to think of that little person leaving his mother’s body and entering the world. The photo isn’t in very good focus, but you can see something of his red newborn’s skin.

The home birth went well, and our midwife, Melissa (Mel) Cathcart, got here in plenty of time for it. My wife began experiencing contractions at about 7:30 pm on the 24th. By 8:30 we had called Mel, and she was here about an hour after that.

Mel and I helped my wife as she went through early labor. But as we found out shortly before the baby was born, my wife’s labor progressed more rapidly than we realized. Mel said that my wife did not give the typical warning signs that the final push was near, perhaps because she has a high tolerance for that particular type of pain.

The result was that Mel was surprised when my wife went into the final stages of labor at around 1:30 am. A scant twelve minutes later and the baby had emerged, “in the caul,” as Mel said, or still in the membrane that covers the fetus in the womb. The birth took place in the cramped space of our basement bathroom, with Mel unwrapping the umbilical cord as the baby emerged, then catching the baby and removing the caul, if I remember rightly.

It’s a cliche to call birth a miracle, but that is how it seems. How wonderful to witness it in this season of miracles.

Tonight is Christmas Eve, and Christians will be remembering the birth of Jesus. In our household we’ll not only be observing the celebration of that ancient birth but also awaiting the birth of our second child. Our new child’s due date is actually Christmas Day, and so far, after a couple of episodes of false labor, my wife has not yet given birth.

We’re doing a home birth for the second time. Although home birth is quite rare in our culture, my wife feels strongly that it is better for her. I’ve come to agree with her that it is a better option for many women. I haven’t done much research on the issue, but my understanding is that home birth is much more common in Europe than it is in the U.S. and that Europeans have a much lower rate of Ceasarean births.

Home birth seemed more common in northern California, where we were living when our first child was born. There one of our midwives lived five minutes away and the second was only a half hour away. Here in Minnesota our sole midwife is at least an hour away in Minneapolis - two hours away in bad weather.

Fortunately, the hospital is only five minutes from our house. However, we we don’t want to go to the hospital if we can avoid it, and so I’ve received some training in what to do if the baby comes quickly and under what circumstances I should call 911. My wife’s mother and brother are here now, so we will have help available.

Of course all of this has added a lot of anticipation and a certain amount of drama to our holidays this year. I pause now to give thanks for what I’ve been given, and I pray for poise and equanimity for the new birth, the coming year, and what I hope is a long career of fatherhood and Christian discipleship.

Peace to you all this holiday season.

Yesterday was a glorious autumn day, and I enjoyed playing in the leaves with my family. My three-year-old daughter and I went outside into the warm afternoon sun and made our way to a maple tree that had dropped most of its leaves. The leaves were muted yellows and tans, rather small, light and dry, easily crumbled.

I raked the leaves into a large pile and my daughter was thrilled to run and jump into it and to pile the leaves onto her dad and to be buried herself in a light layer. I can still hear her voice filled with joy: “Daddy, do it again!”… “Daddy, now you lie down!”

She especially enjoyed throwing the leaves at me. I threw them at her and up into the air too, a natural confetti blown by the wind. At some point my wife joined us and we all threw leaves at each other.

And I made an effort to remember. As my daughter ran to the leaf pile in joy, ready to jump into it, I made sure to count my blessings, to try to fix in my mind this time when she was so small. Because she will change, of course, because she has changed, because everybody insists on reminding me of that constant change when I know that sad but necessary fact already.

And so I took a mental snapshot of that time, and I write it down and place it here now, when the day - only one day later - has already changed to a blustery winter day and I sit here, content and alone.

I’m not sure how the subject of death came up for our three-year old daughter. Perhaps it was in trying to explain to her what Easter was and how Jesus died and was resurrected. Perhaps it was explaining that a relative had died and was no longer with us. Whatever the cause, our daughter has been asking questions such as, “Daddy, when will you die?,” and “Daddy, will you die?”

Of course such questions give one pause. But strangely enough, I don’t mind hearing them. I’d rather live with full consciousness of my mortality and full appreciation of the gift of life. I’d rather pause and consider my own end, then resume life with thanks and praise.

I’ve been following the new Minnesota Public Radio show The Loop as it seeks to become a full-fledged program. Host Jeff Horwich and staff member Sanden Totten manage to create radio that is subsantive without being too heavy - a difficult thing to pull off.

I haven’t been able to attend any of the show’s creative gatherings recently, nor have I been able to go to the live productions. However, I did recently submit a short essay about being a work-at-home and stay-at-home dad for its recent show on work life. It’s entitled “I’m a Lucky Guy.” The essay didn’t get put on the show, but they’ve included it on the show’s web page along with other submissions. Scroll down the page to see it.

It was a grueling weekend. On Friday morning our almost-three-year-old daughter said she felt sick and couldn’t go to day care. I thought this was one of her attempts to stay home, but when she vomited, my doubts about her being sick vanished. Read the rest of this entry »

I’ve been busier than I would like lately. In addition to the test development work that I do, I have some volunteer responsibilities, including local bicycle and pedestrian advocacy, church responsibilities, and my new role as president of our townhome association. Then of course there are family responsibilities and the constant demands of parenthood.

The latter has great ups and downs, of course. I must report one cute comment by our two-year-old daughter. She was playing with some coins, and I asked her, “What do we do with money?” “Put it in our pockets,” she said.

I’ll take a busy but peaceful life over the war and civil strife that plagues the Middle East, including the ongoing fighting in Iraq and the escalating war between Israel and Hezbollah. I will keep the people of that region in my prayers.

We’ve had a busy week here in midsummer. We enjoyed a long Fourth of July weekend at the family cabin in northwestern Wisconsin, where the weather was much warmer than on our last visit in June. This time we could finally enjoy the beach.  Read the rest of this entry »