Heritage - and a Future

A few nights ago I had a dream about my maternal grandparents, Willard and Leolyn Fritz, both of whom are now in heaven.  Of the many, many blessings I have had in my life, one of the absolute richest has been the love of godly, righteous grandparents.  They were beautiful people, as you can see here in their wedding portrait from 1942.

In my dream they were sitting together on a bench and radiant in their joy at being together and greeting me and their great-grandson, Abraham Willard, whom I named after my beloved grandpa.  Their appearance was the absolute best of my memory of them.  This photo is the closest I could find at capturing the moment.

I have since reflected on this:  their most beautiful appearance to me was the best of my memory of them from when I was a little girl rather than a more youthful version of them that objectively might be considered more beautiful.  This, in turn, made me wonder if this is what it will be like heaven.  If we all have shed our earthly bodies, then will I "see" each person at his or her best from my perspective - a perspective that will be unique from that of anyone else. 

Perhaps C.S. Lewis considered a similar possibility when his protagonist in The Great Divorce first arrives in heaven and observes the following:  ". . . I saw people coming to meet us. . . . Some were bearded but no one in that company struck me as being of any particular age.  One gets glimpses, even in our country, of that which is ageless - heavy thought in the face of an infant, and frolic childhood in that of a very old man.  Here it was all like that."

I can't wait to see them again.

Happy Valentine's Day

This morning I was greeted by a lovely surprise when I walked into the kitchen.  Scott and I aren't particularly dedicated celebrators of Valentine's Day or its Hallmark cousins, so this was an unexpected delight.

It reminded me of one of the many reasons I fell in love with my husband, though.  Twenty years ago on this date, under very different circumstances, I was a high school sophomore in Spanish III when a knock at the classroom door revealed the delivery of a tell-tale white florist's box.  Like everyone else in the class, I assumed this was intended for one of the popular girls.  I can still recall the bemused elation I felt when the box was instead deposited on my desk.  Proceeding with caution lest this was some cruel joke, I opened the lid to reveal one dozen long-stemmed red roses accompanied by a card that read simply:
"You thought I forgot.  Love, Scott". 
I've never forgotten.

Superbowl 2011 - Packers vs. Steelers

Scott and I took Abraham to Troy and Megan Fisher's house on Sunday for their annual Superbowl party.  We know we're nearing the end of what my friend, Jane, calls the "potted plant" stage (i.e., if you put Abraham down, he remains in that same place until you move him), so we're enjoying what may be the dwindling days of being invited to other people's homes.

Abraham enjoyed the festivities immensely apart from when the dramatic interception/touchdown play in the first half caused a momentary eruption in the room.  The shock of the sudden noise must have scared him because he immediately burst into tears.  I wasn't quick enough with my camera to capture the moment, but perhaps it is just as well to see him in his normal happy mode sitting with Daddy and then with our hosts, Megan and Troy.

Welcome

I'm most likely a latecomer to this venue, but I've been prompted by my friend, Jodi, to start a blog - just as she prompted me to join Facebook later than most.  As compared to Facebook (which invites concise, rapid bulletins), I think that a blog may better suit me because of the opportunity it presents to post thoughtful, although not necessarily cerebral, musings in prose.

So where do I begin?  So much has happened in my 35 plus years of life that I feel as though I am beginning a chronological story in the middle.

The recent birth of my first child, Abraham Willard Evans, on June 17, 2010 seems appropriate given that he will likely play a prominent role in future postings. 

He's 6 months old as shown here at the start of 2011 - his second calendar year of life!

Of course, credit for Abraham's existence is equally due to his father, the love of my life, Scott Kenneth Evans.  So perhaps the beginning is better placed here:

We were married on March 16, 2001 - nearly ten years ago.  Since then it's been a wonderful, rollicking, adventure-filled journey.

Or maybe the only real option, and probably the best, is simply to embrace the future and to attempt to chronicle some small portion of where it takes us.  As they say, "Enjoy the ride."