A Merry Christmas From Santa

Santa is a bit busy, since it's about 2:35 AM when I start this, so I'm going to blog a bit for him. He still has most of the world to cover before the night wears out. Santa knows that this is a really tough time of the year for me. I flat out did sit down and cry a couple of times yesterday, and wanted to a few more times.

Things he gave me:

1. I have not 1, not 2, but 3 jobs in this icky economy.
2. I have a wonderful family that has taken me in and loves me, and is helping me cope with the big let down that is life not going as planned.
3. I ran into an old high school friend while working at Best Buy yesterday who was shocked that my GPA is a bit low for grad schools. It felt great to have someone feel that way. I feel like I used to be so smart. BYU changed a lot of my self perception, probably for the better, but man it did feel good. Plus it was just nice to see someone and have them hug me and be happy to see me. I was probably a bit of a prideful snot last time she met me.
4. I have a large and loving family, even if we are a bit unconventional.
5. I have the best friends in the whole world. Seriously, I was very upset yesterday and wanted people to talk to. Over chat Jeff immediately made me laugh and feel better. My great friend Ben texted me to see if he could call, which was very thoughtful since I did work yesterday, unfortunately I didn't hear my cell phone until it was too late because he was enjoying his family Christmas Eve traditions. But the fact that he tried to call really cheered me up. I don't have words for how much that made my day.
6. My best friends Ken and Jen have been pretty constant phone and chat buddies for the last several weeks, and despite a tough year it sounds like they're going to have a great Christmas. Literally, every time I talk to them I love them more. There's nothing better then that.
7. My wonderful family lets me experiment with cooking when I get the time, and they eat it, even when it doesn't turn out all that well (plus my mom made me a delicious B-day dinner).
8. The most wonderful gift of all, has been that in those quiet, lonely and sad moments I've felt cause and need to reach out and touch the divine gift that this season is meant to celebrate. Most importantly that it's there, and recently I've felt like I understand it a bit better then I used to. I don't think any mortal can understand the full scope of it, but it is the beautiful labor of our lives to understand here a little and there a little and to help others gain understanding in the same way. He answers our prayers, and there is enough healing in his wings to tend to lonely mid twenty-somethings, as well as to the weighty matters of sin and death. That gift never goes stale, never stops being needed or wanted, and only grows in power and sweetness as time goes on. But perhaps that is the effect of experience talking. Without that gift I doubt any of us could deal with the insanity that the season can bring. I'm even thankful that we go ahead and celebrate this time of year, when the lessening of light makes a bit of holiday prompted remembrance especially useful.

So Santa has delegated this year. That's ok, I think the best gifts tend to happen when he does. Oh I did go ahead and continue my fun single tradition of buying myself a Christmas gift. This year I went a bit over board and bought myself a new computer, with a shiny video card and a new computer game or two to go with it. In my defense it was on sale pretty cheap.


Merry Christmas to everyone, I love you all. If you have a link to this blog it's because you're on my list of my favorite people in the world. If you happen to stumble on this blog then I hope it cheers you up to read some of my things, and I hope that you're having a good year, and will have many more to come.

May God bless you all.

P.S. The Bones link above is a little pop culture treat similar to what I've encountered over at Cheerful Cynicism, a blog of one of my college friends.

Greensboro Garden of Forking Paths

The Garden of Forking Paths is a story that I read in college my last semester, thanks to Dr. Talbot. It was one of the first pieces that really helped me understand Post-Modernism. Feel free to read it, it's actually pretty enjoyable.

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Anyway this last weekend was something of a Garden of Forking Paths in my own life. For some reason I've been a bit hung up on both Modernism and Post-Modernism for a while. They both seemed to speak to me, a lot more then any of the romantics (William Blake exempted), or any of the art I looked at in my art history class (they didn't show any Blake :( ).

So this weekend my old friend Chad invited me to go spend it with him in Greensboro. There was a regional Young Single Adults activity for church, and it sounded like a good idea. So up I went. The first night I was kind of tired and not much fun, but Chad was a champ and didn't seem to mind. The next day we drove down to some little town north of Charlotte for the regional activity. I was enjoying hanging out with Chad and laughing with some of the people from Asheville (none of whom I remembered from my childhood there). Thanks to them I discovered that my childhood friend Cory was in Greensboro, just not at this activity.

The excitement over that discovery was interrupted by me hearing a voice yell "BEN!" It was my old co-worker and friend Jordan. We had a spontaneous man hug and spent a great deal of time hanging out and enjoying the unexpected reunion. I knew he lived on that side of the state but I didn't expect to see him. We had worked at the BYU Law School for over two years together, and had a blast!

The next day I got to see go to church with Chad and see Cory. It had been at least 7 years since I'd last seen him, and there was a lot of catching up to do. Unfortunately we caught up a bit loudly and embarrassed ourselves in Stake conference, but it was nice. I have some fond memories with him. Over all it was a great weekend with representatives from most of the major chapters of my life.

I got to thinking while Chad was helping a friend of his out with car troubles (He's a genius that way, I'm relatively useless.) I've been in a bit of a funk lately. Grad school didn't happen like I hoped it would, getting a job was tough as all get out and ended up with me living in my parents house again. I felt like my plan was falling apart. I felt like I was in a constant state of questioning my plans and their validity. I mean if I had a good plan, it should work right?

I've talked about post-modernism before (giving names to our fears is one of those things that let us surpass them, so I've used it to name a set of fears I have.) Nothing is scarier to me, and I think most Latter-Day Saints feel it too, then the idea that there is no plan. We are big on plans. From General Authorities talking about goals and tracking them and it helps us improve, to the big Plan of Salvation. A massive Plan that encompasses all of our mortal existence and beyond. Post-modernisms claim that there is no plan, and that everything just happens is a bit threatening, the first time I felt the implications of it my heart raced like somebody just slapped me in the face.

Modernism can be equally challenging, although on the surface it looks a lot more appealing. On the one hand can any argue that there is something seriously wrong with this world? That it's a sick, sad world? Daria references aside, it is becoming noticeably less comfortable and more scary to live in this world. But does this fear mean that something has gone wrong with the plan? Does it mean that things need fixed? Faith in revelation gives us some claim to a plan that tells us everything will fall apart before it all gets put back together again. The simple answer is, yes things need fixed, but no the plan isn't flawed.

So I've decided that live has me somewhere in between, and perhaps a student of philosophy could give me the name for it, but I'm going to call it modified modernism. Because the world is sick, and I should try my best to make a difference for good in the world, but in the end MY PLAN isn't going to be what wins the day, it'll be God's plan. My plan won't stand up to his plan, it just won't. Hopefully the next time I find myself sitting in a position in life that I never expected I hope I can sit at another Garden of Forking Paths, being able to see my past, embarrassing and proud moments together, and realize that life in all of it's bitter sweet nature will always take me down different Forking Paths then I expected, and that is part of the richness of the experience.

Robert Frost's famous line about the path untaken are beautiful, but I sometimes yearn for something as well done about discovering the path you set out on is completely different then you expected.

Fried Mush

As most of you who read this know, I've lived most of my life in NC. It's only really been in my adult years that I've lived anywhere else. I've gotten used to being asked questions such as, "Where's your accent?" and you "You must like grits." The funny thing is, I don't remember ever eating grits growing up. I remember being offered some on some camp outs as a teenager, but I tend to go towards either sweet or meaty breakfasts.

Anyway since I'm now living back at home I've managed to reclaim some of my old habits. Turns out one of the reasons I enjoy cooking and food so much is there's just not that much going on here. I mean mega boring. So anyway my mom has taken to watching this cooking show "Motlo Mario". He's a large Italian-American chef who has a very good approach to a cooking show. The food looks delicious and he shows you most of the steps involved in making the meal. Anyway thanks to various dietary and taste prejudices my poor mom often feels caged in what we can prepare for dinner. My mom has always been more adventurous and creative with food then I am, and is easily the best cook I know, anything that I make that tastes good I've either learned to make from her or have based off of principles that she's taught me.

So we watch a lot of Mario. He likes to talk about food cultures and explain terms. Anyway, one of the ingredients/dishes is Polenta. Now Polenta=grits (And I'm not crazy I promise). So turns out my Grandma (97 this month) used to eat grits as a child. She often forgets that my mom does make it from time to time. One of the things that my great-grandma used to do with it was let it set in a bread pan, slice it and then fry it in oil. You then can drench it with yummy stuff like syrup or powdered sugar. Think of it like french toast or a pancake, just gritty.

So last night my mom was feeling creative so we did some grits with very basic sausage sauce for dinner. The sauce was delicious (if any of you are ever in eastern NC you HAVE to try Bass Farm Sausage, for those of you who haven't. It's the best.) Now I know that grits aren't my favorite thing. The taste is pretty bland/not there and the texture is very grainy. But these things can be a bonus. I remember growing up and everyone talking about how much they loved cheese grits. Which always confused me because well, grits sounded gross and it took me a long time to make up with cheese. It being melted has always helped. So the first thing I tried last night was a bite of grits with just some strong aged Parmesan sprinkled on top. Delicious. Now I know I'd probably not care for most cheese grits because it was delicious because of the quality of the cheese and the grits, like the little champs they are stood up and took on the flavor of that yummy cheese.

So then I tried it with the sausage sauce, which had a hint of tomato, but the strongest flavor was that yummy sausage. Yet again the grits carried the flavor and spread it out. Then this morning we were able to have enough left over to try fried mush. I ate mine with powdered sugar and maple syrup. While not as yummy as other traditional breakfast options, it was quite yummy and a good way to render day old mush.

So the consensus, I don't really care for grits (I'm a noodle man, through and through). But I don't really hate them, they just need something with a strong, bold and cutting flavor to liven them up. I do think it was a fun and exciting way to mix up our diet a bit and have some exciting and different food.

I think given some time me and grits may grow even closer together, who knows?

Missing Provo

I really really miss provo. I miss my friends, I miss my job, I miss going to school, I miss complaining about school, I miss feeling like I had some kind of control over my life. Heck at this point I even miss the crummy BYU approved apartments you ended up living in, while always overpriced and crappy, felt like home anyway.

So onto another update:

Still jobless, so if you know of anything good let me know.

Still going crazy.

Quick update

I'm in NC, the trip was long, but not too bad. Still looking for a job, otherwise just hanging out with the family and trying to be helpful.

The Best of Friends

Warning: This will be a very LDS flavored post. If some of the stuff is confusing please feel free to leave me a comment and I'll get back to you when I can.

I've had the most wonderful 4 years of my life in Provo. This may take some people by surprise. I have the usual complaints about some of BYUs policies and how annoying the drivers are here. And don't get me started on singles wards, they are not what any sane person wants. But I love Provo, and for one basic reason. I love my friends here. It's hard for me to express how much my friends mean to me. I mean I should be sleeping right now, or putting the finishing touches on packing. But I need to record these feelings. I love my friends, they have made what could have been a very hard 4 years turn into the fondest years of my life to date. I'm sure I'll have better, I hope someday I find a nice girl to marry and have many happier years with her, but that doesn't decrease how awesome these years have been.

Most specifically I'm talking about my friends Jeff and Ben T. We met as randomly as is possible, at a pen and paper role playing game, where none of us really knew anyone else there. All we knew we had in common was the game. Over time we started hanging out, talking late at night. They were even comfortable with my best friend for life Kenny, with whom I went through Hell with, and they never seemed offended that he has that title for life. In truth I do love these two guys as much as I do Kenny (his wife Jen deserves mention as being in this top echelon of people who are awesome). It is not easy to be single in Provo, I'm not sure it's easy to live in Provo. These two friends with their kindness, likability, and generosity have made me feel like I have a family here.

As I spent time with this select group (and lets not forget Jeff's awesome and unforgettable wife Cyndi) tonight it all came back to me. They made Provo home to me. I hated it when Jeff and Cyndi moved to Las Vegas for awhile. I loathed Ben's trip to TN last summer. But even then our friendships have stayed strong, and we have always been there for each other. Jeff was my go to guy to talk about relationships with last summer despite living in a different state. Our friendship started because of a game, and has held many games in it, but my favorite moments, are nights like tonight. We sat, we talked, we ate some good food (Cyndi makes an AWESOME Cheesecake, I was scraping the remains off the plate to enjoy the flavor some more). These are my favorite nights even though in a lot of ways they're the hardest to remember.

This night I kept thinking to myself "This is amazing, and so much like my favorite nights with my family," which helped me realize how much I do love and miss being near my family. I also kept thinking about how blessed I am because I have tools like the Internet, cell phones, webcams, ect. to help me keep in contact with these amazing people. It's not the same, and it's always better to be able to see people in person, but it's a great blessing to be able to have the easy and quick access modern technology provides us.

I also couldn't help but think about the saying attributed to Josesph Smith (I'm too lazy to source check, but I think it actually was said by him) that heaven wouldn't be heaven without his friends is true. I can't imagine being happy in an afterlife where I can't spend time with my friends and family. It's the part of LDS doctrine that is so dear to me, the thought that I'm sealed to my family forever. I have hope that the above saying (or it's essence anyway) is just as true.

So I'm sorry to those people who didn't get much love in this post, but tonight it felt appropriate to record my feelings about Ben, Jeff and Cyndi. They have made this one of my favorite places on earth, due overwhelmingly to their contribution to my time here. I will miss being able to see you guys several times a week every week. Now I go to another stage of life, with my parents who I love and haven't spent near enough time with in the last 6 years, and who knows what will happen next?

Live up to now!

So I've been unsuccessful in finding employment in Provo and as I go about thinking and looking I've had a lot of generous offers from friends and family to stay with people. I've decided to go home and live with my parents again. It just feels right. I would have loved to go down to Texas and live with Ken and Jen, my two favorite people in the world, but this just feels like where I need to be. I don't know how long I'll be out of a job, I don't know a lot of stuff, so I figure going with a feeling is the best thing I can do right now. Plus I've lived away from home for 6 years now, I've never really reconnected with my parents after my mission, and it'd be kind of nice to have the opportunity to do so again.

Being the youngest I got to live several years at home when it was just me and my parents, and we got along very well, my father has always been wonderful about leaving most decisions up to me, just giving me advice. He's always trusted me and my judgment and that's made this decision to move home easier, knowing that my parents really do love and trust me. Plus it will be great to spend some time with mom, I miss our long talks, she really has been my best friend for long stretches of my life. Plus this way maybe I'll actually know what's happening with my family, since mom tends to be the central hub of family information (us Stair's are not very good about calling/writing each other, or in my case even keeping a blog.)

Also, despite how most of my siblings dislike the town, and the fact that there is pretty much nothing to do their, I do love Wilson. I spent 13-18 there, and I had a great time. I felt closer to God there then I think I did anywhere else during my life. No doubt this experience will be different now that I'm a grown up that is very much acclimated to a LDS culture, but I'm sure that I'll still be able to have some fun and prosper in this little southern town. And it won't be forever, eventually I'll get into graduate school and finish growing up the rest of the way and have the job I've wanted all these long years.

By the way, in my search for jobs I have found TONS and TONS of opening for fully licenced Speech Language Pathologists. So once I have my masters I have no fear of being able to find a job.

The times they are a-changing!

I'm weird in that I've always enjoyed a bunch of the music from my parents generation, I've tried to imbed a youtube video of Bob Dylan's classic song up above. I've decided that's a good theme to describe what I'm feeling. This semester I've had the experience of studying post-modernism both in literature and art. Those of you that know me can already predict that I liked the literature a lot lot better then I did the art. One of the first observations I had about Post-modernism is that it's dangerous. It resonated to me with that fear that paralyzes, the uncertainty that causes total apathy. I find it hilarious that I study this area of thought during a time of change in my life.

This period of my life is reminding me of the other times of my life where I've had big changes. I tend to get gripped by what I now call my Post-modern fear. Will I get a job? I don't know. Will I stay here or move? I don't know. Will I make some idiot mistakes? Probably, but not as bad as I fear most likely. Will I be happy? Who knows? Does it matter, can I even control what happens? Not really, I can only control what I do.

So here's a peak into my fears. I'm afraid that I won't get into grad school this year (I'm essentially on two wait lists and they're my best bet). I'm afraid that I won't get into grad school ever, or that I'll end up finding another job and just doing that instead of fulfilling my dream and going to graduate school and becoming a speech language pathologist. I'm afraid that I alienated a couple of friends when I turned them down about a buisness idea of theirs, and that maybe I was wrong to turn them down. I'm afraid I'll life a live alone and never marry, I'm afraid that I won't mind that much in a few years. I'm afraid that if I do get married that I'll be a horrible father. I'm afraid that because I won't get married until I'm older that my family will always treat me like a kid. I'm afraid that those of you reading this will freak out and worry yourselves silly about me.

I'll survive and I'll even bounce out of this funk. I've felt funks this strong at the beginning of college, my mission, and the end of my mission. And yes... all of these things kind of start coming to the surface at the same time. I'm a worrier, I am my father's son. So when times change in my life I freak out a bit, so if I seem more morose or what not, that's why. I really do love all of my friends and family out there, but in times like this I just get overwhelmed with my own thoughts and feelings that I have trouble being here. I've gotten better in the past several years, but I'm still not very good at it.

Heck I'm freaking out about how clean my house is for my parents visiting... and I'm pretty sure they won't care too much. They were in college once upon a time, they know what it's like, especially on finals week. Anyway for those of you that don't know that I carry around some big fears and that they breath down my neck at times like this, well now you know.

Update

Ugghh... I'm not very good at keeping this often. For an update on the grad school situation look below, I've edited that original post. Long story short, still don't know where I'll be in a year. Isn't being in college great?

Anyway I've decided I want to do a Vlog. I'm going to do it, I've just got to work a few things out.
1. Get a Web Cam. This is the easy step.
2. Learn how to do it. The hardest part of this will be figuring out how to make the file upload to some nice place that will host it for me.
3. Figure out how I want to compose the post. At first I may very well do a short ASL segment (with English translation below, warning: it will not be word for word, ASL is not signed english. Warning: I'm not fluent, so it may be a lot closer to word for word then it should be, but the point is to get better, and I'll never get better if I never practice.)
4. Clean up my room enough that I don't mind filming things with my room as the background.

Thoughts

So I had yet another interesting day of class. It was one of those classes where you have a comment, but you get so moved by what's taught that you have to ponder it before you can do anything else, including speaking. A lot of what I have to say are things I thought but could not put into words.

We're currently talking about "The Grand Inquisitor" chapter of "The Brothers Karamazov" by Dostoevsky, we've also read bits of Darwin and Marx in this section.

I'd just finished catching up on the Marx, so perhaps that is part of where my mind was for this mind blowing discussion. It's scary to realize that even when we fight against communism we acknowledge some truth in it's manifesto. The space race could be seen, the need to settle in space, as a way to create a new frontier to settle and push capitalism along. A way for the proletariat to exhaust itself in going to a new world where it can better itself, a new America. Also the idea of a foreign war to pacify and focus a people follows a similar model, that it's forcing a new market to exist. I'm not saying that this is the way things are, I'm just saying I'm seeing a connection, and that it's a bit scary.

Then we go in and talk about the Grand Inquisitor (the character this time) who spouts off the communist thought of the government (or in his case the church) taking care of people's physical needs. And otherwise telling what they think are lies about the truth of reality to pacify them, because they are too foolish to do so themselves. What really blows your mind is what the Grand Inquisitor is mad with Jesus about. That he's mad about the freedom given to people. The freedom to achieve the goals given in the gospel. The absolute freedom necessary for us to achieve our potential. It's chilling. It's a level of freedom that is practically unheard of.

I kept thinking of the Janis Joplin line "freedom is another word for nothing left to lose". That line has an aspect of truth to it. We are told to not put home, wealth, comfort, or even family before the pursuit and loyalty to God. If we live a truly Christian life, we may have all of those above things and more, but we will live with the constant knowledge that we are willing to give those to God. That we are free of them to a level. We are then comforted that God for the most parts wants us to have the best things in live, especially family. It is hard not to think of Job in the bible. How he lost everything, yet still praised God. He had this mind blowing kind of freedom. His very health had left him yet he practiced the freedom to believe in God. What does that belief entail? The belief that he knows we can do what he asks, even though we may (and almost always do) fail. The potential is there, the ability to have the freedom necessary to be like him.

I don't know if I've done the subject justice, I just knew I needed to write down these thoughts before the disappeared.

Looking back into my own life, I feel like I had more of this faith, faith to believe that God had not laid an impossible task before me. Although I failed, probably even more often than I remember, I still persisted in the believe that I could do it. If God could believe in me enough to give me these commandments then I can do it. Maybe not know, but one day I can. That part of me has been under siege for sometime now. I love my family and remember my young mind being told it could do anything. Life has worn away that faith, both in myself and in God a bit. Lately I've been feeling that lack. I've been trying to name it, to know it, to conquer it. I now understand why the church focuses so hard to teach the youth that they are children of God. The world will teach you anything but that one sublime truth. That because we are children of God that he gave us a priceless gift, the freedom of a God. Just like our exercises of this freedom has prices, so did his use of his freedom to give us that gift. That sacrifice was Jesus Christ, the son of God. I feel closer to understanding that now then ever. I can succeed in the sublime goals outlined in the gospel, and faith is the first principle. With faith in God, and the knowledge he's given me about my place in the universe, I can have the faith necessary to live a truly free live. I just need to overcome the fears of failure and ridicule, and believe it to the point of action.

I don't intend this post as a declaration of ultimate truth. I feel that there is a great big store of truth beyond what I said, that I'm just barely being able to touch and become familiar with, and this is my attempt to never lose that taste. This I think is at the heart of Journal writing, to record moments when your mind feels illuminated to the point of bursting, so that you don't lose what you once felt, so that you can proceed from it.

Thanks Cyndi!

I think I probably will grab a webcam one of these days, if nothing else it'll be handy for practicing sign language anyway.

I don't really know what to say, I'm feeling entirely too tired to be trying to write anything coherent. Oh well, such is life.

Oh a fun thing to share


I remember this episode of the Muppet show and remember how much the Banana boat song wowed me as a kid. As a grown up this song really impresses me. It's become something I listen to on my "meh" days.

It's message just gives me a sense of connection with everyone. Even though we often forget who we and other are, it's right there waiting patiently for us to remember it. Sometimes all we need is a blast from the past, like the Muppets.

New Idea

I'm not sure if anyone reads my blog. But I'm tempted to start doing a video blog or vlog. I've been doing a lot of research on Deaf culture for a project at school this week and I've watched some Vlogs from Deaf people.

If I did do a Vlog I'll probably use it as a means to practice my ASL skills which are in desperate needs of regular practice.

So if anyone reads this what do you think? At the very least I'd include a segment below with what I say (translated to English I won't try to do a word for word translation).

Grad School wait

I've decided to put up a list of where I've applied to and what I've heard so far. I realize that enough people are curious that it might be easier if I just have it written somewhere public.

I have currently applied to: Red means that they have rejected me. Black is I don't know. Blue will mean accepted. So far there are none of these.
University of North Carolina- Greensboro
Western North Carolina University
University of Utah
Gallaudet University (In Washington D.C.)
University of Houston
University of Texas at Dallas

I would love to go to any of these institutions (or else I wouldn't have applied to them). It's a pretty widespread and I'm excited for all of these possibilities. So far I have heard nothing back from any of these people and I am eagerly awaiting news.

Interesting Day

I wrote this a week or two, and never published it.

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I've had a pretty radical day. I met with one of my favorite professors about getting him to write letters of recommendation for my Graduate School Application process. And talking with him I realize I do have a lot of skill sets beside what I've learned in school, and that I've learned enough in school that if I did want to change horses mid-stream I'm pretty well prepared to do it. That being said, I still really want to be a speech language pathologist. I realize that it probably seems kind of silly to decide what you want to do and use a promise you made to yourself when you were six as a guiding light for it. But it's one of the few memories that is so clear in my mind from that time of my life, and I still feel very strongly that this is what I want to do.

I won't get into the details of what I feel like my skills are, but I'm actually feeling pretty optimistic about the future and my life in general.

I've always been a pretty contemplative soul, and today in my English (different professor then the above one) class it just fed my fire. Currently we're talking about Shakespeare's "King Lear". The professor brings up such wonderful points. Maybe they're plainly evident to other people, but to me this stuff is pretty hot. He made a statement about King Lear's request to hear how much his daughter's love him, and stated that it's an insecurity all parents struggle with and that on some level all parents do it to their kids at some point. Although usually not in such an ugly way as he did. I almost wonder if my parents did that with me when they asked me to not make some mistakes that some of my siblings made. If anything I think how many talks I had like that as a child is why I'm so contemplative. I got used to watching people and trying to learn from what others have done. I like to think it's a good habit.

But there's a flip side to this. I'm the youngest, and as the professor points out often the youngest is the "favorite" they get spoiled in lots of ways that the older children ever did. I know that my older siblings have felt this before. I think the only one who I've never hear call me spoiled is Joe. He's always understood better then the others what it's like. In a lot of ways we were the youngest together, he was the youngest of the first 5 and then there was me. But back to the topic, there are some major bonuses to being the youngest. As the youngest I got my parents at the top of their game in some ways and the bottom in other ways. They were more confident that if they let me have a lot of free rein that I'd still love them and listen to them. On another note they also knew that in a lot of ways I'd be raised a lot by my siblings and so didn't see the need to spend time with me about some stuff.

But I have a pretty convincing set of evidence for why I'm not loved anymore then my siblings. And I'm not sure how much they all understand it. My eldest brother left home when I was 5 years old. I don't have many memories where the whole family is gathered together. I was too young for most of them. For a lot of my life it was just my parents and me. And it was good. We were comfortable with each other. I kept them appraised of what was going on in my life, and other then not dating in high school they were pretty happy with what I was doing with my life.

Things changed at the dropping of a hat. Anytime one or more of my siblings could visit (with or without their own family) the routine changed. My father is a man who loves his routine, and having lived with him when he was able to have more of a routine then when all my siblings are home, I can honestly say that he is much more relaxed when he has his routine. My mother, who loves her routine almost as much as my father does, just in different ways always changed it too. And I won't lie, we were all always relieved when the vacations were over and we could get back to our routine.

Despite that love of our routine we always looked forward to those visits with special glee. My family is spread out, and probably will always be, so those rare chances to see family were always special. But even more then that when Ed lived just across town but not at home, it seemed to me that we would stop what we are doing to help him if he needed it or spend time with him when he chose to visit the house, so I don't think distance is the only factor that made these visits special.

Now I'm an adult, and I'm starting to wrap my head around the idea that I'm no longer part of the routine. This is hard since in a lot of ways I'm still my mothers favorite helper in the kitchen or for other errands around town because of my familiarity with this town, house and particularly her kitchen. But it's weird I've noticed some of the patterns still exist. Obviously the routines are still there, with my siblings almost all of them have children now. They're just in a different place in their life. I was able to observe mom and dad get little tidbits of time and small interactions with my siblings throughout the break. My parents are still willing to drop everything to spend some time with their kids. And they still can't spend that one on one time with all of us. It's just impossible. But they try, and they love it when they get it.

So I guess the point is, yes I was probably spoiled a bit with laxer rules and some cool stuff. But I see now that "love" is the hardest attribute to define and only grows within the soil of time. In my family it is spread around as far as my parents can spread it, and where they see it's needed the most. I don't fully understand, but I get a sense of what a treat it is for my brothers, sisters and all of their spouses to be able to spend some time together and have some quality adult time. And that is the loving gift my parents give now, is the understanding adult friendship that they need. They've never begrudged the time or the interruption of their live, I think they just wish that they could give more time.