As my wife and I sat and shared with our small group the other night we both came to a similar moment of inspiration. We giggled like junior-high kids and since then the idea has stayed with me, filtering down through my subconscious and banging into things. Our little private joke played into something I was already pondering.
This is part two of my favorite pictures from 2011. While the first five were world photographs, this group is more personal. I either took them, or was part of their capture.
And like the last time, I’ll comment on why they matter to me.
Among the many priority shifts required for parenthood is the sudden awareness of certain places you never even saw before. The most striking is my sudden awareness of playgrounds, slides, and fast-food jungle gyms. I don’t think I ever actually used a fast-food play-palace during my own childhood, and until recently I couldn’t tell you anywhere I’d seen one.
These days I can be flying down the freeway, notice one out of the corner of my eye, and slice across three lanes of traffic to get our little man some slide time. He loves these places, but the adult in me only sees the vile plastic, wobble construction, and mats which were probably washed when Reagan was in office. Yet these places have revealed something much more interesting and unknown; playgrounds of all kinds have their own social order. Adults beware.
The other night my wife and I went to a movie. Which might not seem worth noting except it’s the third film my wife has seen in a theater since our son was born. And now that we live in a small mountain town, going anywhere at night causes you to experience an inky blackness which is simply impossible in a big city. It’s easy to drive through downtown Dallas and never realize your lights are off. In Park City you can’t leave the parking lot.
This weekend my wife and I celebrated our 12th Anniversary. It’s simply shocking to think that I’ve been married for twelve years, and even more amazing, that my wife has been able to put up with me! We had a wonderful time away from our kids, both the furry one and the one in diapers, and had the chance to really celebrate.
We laughed a lot. In fact, it felt like two people excited to be dating. And all of this got me thinking about the changes of our last few months and the strangeness of marriage.
The more I learn about my dog, the more I uncover lessons about God. In the midst of our move I’ve been watching our pup and her awareness of what’s happening around her. And like my wife’s pregnancy, the dog knows something’s going on, and change is coming, but she can’t really comprehend what it all means.
So amidst the packing, I’ve found another way I’m a lot like my dog.
Like most of you, I sometimes leave the house and have to go back for something I forgot. I step back in the door, thirty seconds after I left, and my wife makes some comment about “quick trip” or “what did you forget this time” and I laugh it off as I grab the missing item.
Then, as I step back out the door I always say the same thing: “Really leaving now…”
And today those three words struck me differently.
This is an anniversary of sorts. Fourteen years ago this week I loaded my gunmetal gray Chevy Caprice and came to Los Angeles. I moved in with three guys I didn’t know, in a building across the street from my current home in Glendale.
And now, just this week, I know for sure that I’m leaving Los Angeles and I’m moving to Park City, Utah.
