Track 22

Thought it before, but was reminded over the Thanksgiving holiday how blessed Tayen is to have/know four grandparents and even a great-grandparent.  What a gift to have in this time/culture.

I also have the good fortune of owning a clear voice and image in my head of all of my grand-folks.
I’ve thought it before, but wanted to put it down this is a treasure.
Snapshots–>
Grandma Rockwell:  What can I say about Baby?  –>  Generous and warm.  A Mom all the way.  I loved her garden and her food.  In her style she was stubborn. Forever part of my journey, I lived with her for about a year just us.  To be honest, it was chaotic and confusing time for me, and in retrospect I think Baby was a stable and trusted source during an era I had one foot stuck in childhood and another trying to jump to manhood.  When I find myself feeling sorry for myself, my mind leans on her.  Mind never is able to find a single instance when I heard her complain.  Seems to have been a theme with her, and it’s damn admirable given her story(s).
Grandpa Rockwell:  He made his own way.  A family legacy has grown out of his path.  People say “thanks for sharing” way too often, but Dan sure could share a story, thanks. He could also be stubborn.  Dan had real magic in his eyes, I can still see them, and  I can still feel the strong grip he had all his days.  Strong like his faith.  I often reference him when I’m playing Backgammon or Fathering.
Grandpa Withrow:   Funny.  Playful.  Stubborn.  Len’s in my mind every time I pick up an axe to chop wood.  He’s in my mind when I define work ethic.  He was a gamer, had a family of gamers, now I’m a gamer raising more gamers. One epic day we went to a Mariner’s game then a Sonics game together.  He was up for it, he was up for family.  You know that hypothetical–> if you could go to dinner with anyone from all time/history, who would you choose?  With apologies to Abe Lincoln and Gary Payton, I’d choose Len Withrow.
Grandma Withrow:  Joy is still around being stubborn, and being a part of so many lives. Given that, I’ve got great memories of Joy from childhood to now-hood.  She has gotten to see her family grow and grow and is living out being a great grandMother.   A strong family name continues to get stronger. These things represent success to me. In the moments I’ve got to witness my daughter interacting with Joy I’ve felt pure gold satisfaction. Though miles separate us, she’s always around me.  Before anyone ever got credit for being a soccer mom, Joy was out there keeping the team going (and sometimes even the ref’s).  I challenge you to find anyone who’s been a bigger fan of their family team.  Challenge over, I win.  When I think of her it’s strong family and laughter around a table, mostly laughing at each other.  She kept a scorecard at Giants games ya’ll.
Lucky
Wesley Withrow
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Track 19

Perched on a wet rock looking down over Nooksack Falls, I had the best cup of cocoa ever.   It was one of my days with Tayen and we started it in search of snow.  Fortunately, there’s a mountain range nearby.

I’ve spent most Tuesdays and Fridays of Tayen’s young life “taking care of her.”  We’ve done our share of groceries and chores during those times, but have also spent good chunks digging and exploring.  Seems too soon to be fondly remembering, but I’m fondly remembering park adventures, bus rides, lake fishing, urban walkabouts, sneaking into a college lab, and buying/listening to music together. Glorious.

A new child is on the way, things will change. I hope #2 gets to go to some of the same special places as #1.  I know this may be challenging and the days will most definitely be different with two.  On this day however, just Tayen and I reached our snow and jumped in it.  We tossed ice chunks in the river, probed for spooky spots and laughed at shadows/ourselves.  Our pace was slow and slanted.

We found ourselves cold and wet with a waterfall in view, so we cooked up some cocoa and sat down on the perfect rock.  I’m glad I was prepared.  I’m glad we’ve had these days together.

As my child watched the water fall, I watched her.

It was well, it is well with my soul(s).

Track 17

Do you have anything like Alaska or Bob Dylan in your life?  I do admire them, could say I’ve even loved them, yet never have seen either live.  Not sure I want to anymore and it’s getting intentional at this point.  There are streams + sounds + thoughts of my own I like right where they are.  When it comes to tundra and folk heroes I don’t want my images karate chopped or even nudged.

Years ago I wanted to visit Alaska and thought I naturally would some day. I’ve crossed paths with a number who spent life in parts known and unknown up there.  Opportunities to go have been but I still never have. Though,   I feel Alaska in me,   Denali or Dillingham residue left somehow from past conversations or dreams.    Plus, I really really liked the Eddy Vedder songs from Into the Wild.

As for Dylan, we have a long and checkered past.   He’ll always be part of the story.  I don’t listen to his musings that often anymore, but a picture still hangs on the wall.

I find myself wanting to avoid Anchorage altogether , and it seems I’m always booked when Dylan plays the NW.     It’s twisted I know.  I fully get those two don’t need me to be there, don’t care about my neatly constructed expectations, don’t even know my name.
I’ll say it though with respect intact—> I’m sure they are nice enough in person,   but Alaska & Dylan are magic between my ears.

In an unlocked millennium time capsule I found a dusty note from/to myself saying Bob Dylan was the best writer of our era.  Whether I still believe in that doesn’t matter, like I said Bob’s fine without my award.   I’d buy another Dylan album and will probably cry when he passes. I’d also likely put my head down and duck into the alley if I saw him coming at me down the street.

dylan_savoy

Track 16

During a lively match of I-SPY, my daughter got the best of me.

–  school bus
green grass
–  wood fence
stoplight
– corner store
sky
– blue crane thing
white house
– pink jacket girl
bendy sign
– motor-biker
pile of pumpkins
– old man
red helmet

….Tayen abruptly stopped the banter to remind me she already spied this particular biker and the red helmet was off limits.  I argued that the head protection was a new thing entirely.  Nowhere near convinced, she questioned if he could ride without the helmet.  I said the rider should of course wear it but could technically (though not legally in WA) ride without it making the red helmet a separate entity apart from the biker himself thus open to future spy call outs.  She countered that she already called “the whole thing.”   Upon further review of this point and the true spirit of I-SPY, I had to agree and issued a concession.   Remarkable/troubling.

“OK, let’s sing a song about this:

     We spy everything,
     We spy something, 
     We spy no thing, 
 
     We spy whatever we want,
     We spy whatever we do,
     We spy you.” 

-Wesley Withrow (lyrics and arguments by Tayen Withrow) 

Track 15

I’ll be attempting to play basketball in an organized fashion this evening at 8:30pm.  Once a baller, it’s been many years (OK a decade +) since I’ve participated in anything more than a park pickup game.  Last three pointer I hit was over my daughter on a Tiny Tikes’ plastic hoop.  Feeling far too old for this but actually am too young.  The league is supposed to be for those over forty, I got an exemption.  I have mixed emotions about this exemption and our team name, “Matrix.”  That said, it will be good to see some friendlies, play a game and bang a bit.

It’s a slow break format, meaning you can’t advance the ball past half court until the other team crosses (unless it’s the last three minutes of a half at which time fast breaking is legal and encouraged so long as you keep your wind).  Think a bookclub where you read just the last chapter and only pay attention to half of what people say while eating appetizers that were given little thought.

If you haven’t already, start worrying about me. I’m a little nervous.  There’s rust here, I doubt my defense, and have a brain chalked full.   Don’t be too concerned though because just when you relax I’ll triple-threat up –>    jab step & deliver a skip pass to my mate low post.  I might just jump-stop to the block &  flip-shot a lupe-de-loosh off glass with seconds to spare. Matrix in your eye.