Tag Archives: family

Short but sweet – Cumberland Falls family reunion

For the last 21 years, I’ve been teaching overseas. My brother was in the Air Force, and then he also became an international teacher. Both my sisters married military guys, so they rarely stayed in one place for long. Finally, we’re all living in the States! You would think it would be easier to get together.

For the first time since Christmas, we all met up last weekend at Cumberland Falls State Resort Park in Kentucky. We had planned to camp, but the weather report looked bleak, so we opted for cabins instead (hallelujah!). When my mom canceled at the last minute after hearing about the grueling drive, I took her reservation at the lodge (even better!).

I rode with my sister, Megan, and her kids after driving six hours to get to her house. Turns out the trip to Cumberland Falls was nearly 12 hours! So painful. However, we had some good laughs and arrived to find the rest of the gang already settled in their cabins with food on the stove.

Remember road trips without electronics?
View from the lodge.

We lucked out with a crisp, clear day for hiking. First, we walked down the path behind the cabins to reach the falls.

Two cuties, a waterfall, and a rainbow. Who could ask for more?
The whole gang!

The nieces and nephews skittered around boulders and cliffs like little mountain goats as the Cumberland River roared below us. It’s possible we let them skitter a bit too much, and we’re lucky nobody plunged into the waterfall or got flattened by falling rocks. (There was a near tragedy, though … read on …)

Oops…

We spent a little time hanging out at this beach, where the kids collected garbage for a Scout merit badge. Unfortunately, there was plenty to collect as it gets carried downstream and deposited on these shores.

After lunch, we hiked to Eagle Falls, which was hidden in a cove of massive boulders.

The second day was cloudy, and we were exhausted, but we managed to squeeze in one more hike. Later, we adults hung out around the campfire while the little people played in the woods.

Like a postcard!

More random shots from our visit …

Tuesday morning, Megan and I took off with her kids and dog for the arduous trip home. As we zig-zagged through small towns and farmland across the southern states, Megan counted Dollar Generals using the voice of the Count from Sesame Street (“16 Dollar Generals! Bwah ha ha ha!”). She got up to 20 before we finally emerged from the countryside and got on a proper highway.

In the meantime, the rest of the family took a morning hike along the river. My brother’s dog, Lexi, wandered too close to the edge and fell in the icy river. Summer, thinking the splash had been one of the children, dove in and pulled Lexi to safety. This happened just upstream from the falls, where the rapid current could have easily swept them both away and given me a whole different angle for this blog post. Whew! Tragedy averted.

Summer and Lexi

I wish we could have had more time together, but as always, we made the most of it!

Funny Farm – Sharing My World with the Family

Since starting my petsitting gig in August, I have been eager to share this experience with my family. My mom has been here a few times, and my sister, Megan, and her kids have visited, but I really wanted the whole gang here at once.

Wendi, the farm owner, was traveling the week after Christmas, but she gave me permission to use her guest rooms for my sister, Kate, and her family, who were driving from Michigan. They arrived on Dec. 26, and the next day everyone else made a day trip from The Villages.

Watching my nieces and nephews love on the Great Danes, play chase with the two barn dogs, feed treats to the mini horses, and explore the property, I felt my heart soar. The joy was palpable.

After hanging out at the farm for awhile, we piled into cars to visit the World Equestrian Center (WEC). We unpacked a huge lunch at the tables overlooking the Grand Arena, and nobody bemoaned the lack of a horse show because many of WEC’s “Winter Wonderland” exhibits were still up. Between bites of their lunch, the kids ran around, checking out the huge Christmas trees and other decorations. We visited the toy shop and hotel and then got some ice cream before heading home.

Mama meets a dapper reindeer.
All my silly lovebugs!
Siblings! I’m surprised we didn’t get kicked out of the hotel. We were laughing so hard and took many inappropriate photos before finally getting this one. Is it any wonder the kids are such goofballs?

Bowled over

For my Christmas present to all the nieces and nephews this year, I planned a bowling party. Their enthusiasm and shenanigans, including lots of silly performances following strikes and spares, kept us in stitches. Compared to the last time they all bowled together in the summer of 2018, they’re all so dang big now. They still used the bumpers, but nobody needed the assist ramp to roll the ball onto the lane. There were no hissy fits or tears among the losers, and we could send them to the counter on their own to return their shoes. Perhaps the most dramatic change was when they all went to hug me at once, I was legitimately scared I would fall over. I guess that’s more a reflection on my aging than theirs!

July 20, 2018

December 28, 2022

No more babies! Wah! Middle: All my nieces and nephews with my mom.

Thanksgiving family time – worth the risk

You know you’re desperate for a get-away when you toss your cat in the car and head out at the crack of dawn during a hurricane.

That’s what I did on November 10. My sister and her husband were going out of town for a wedding, and I was supposed to drive 339 miles to babysit my nephew and niece. However, Hurricane Nicole was slowly blowing her way up the Gulf Coast of Florida when I was scheduled to hit the road. I googled, “What wind speed can flip a car?” and “Is it dangerous to drive in a hurricane?” Google basically rolled its eyes.

Adrenaline-fueled, I took off slowly in the pitch black early morning through sheets of rain with 30 mph winds buffeting my little car and my cat, Ella, howling in the back seat. My body was so tense, I knew I would break into a million pieces if I crashed. After about an hour, the rain stopped and the sun came out, and I relaxed a bit. By noon, we had arrived and had time to decompress before the kids got home from school. Then the fun began.

Ella mainly camped out on the top bunk in Will’s room, but eventually she started exploring and interacting with the kids.

We played hard all weekend till their parents returned. And then I stuck around for two more weeks! With 14 animals depending on me at the farm, I rarely get to skip town. However, Wendi (the farm owner) was back for awhile and kindly took over my chores so I could enjoy a little vacation.

Highlights included hanging out at a state park, going to the beach, hiking, playing board games, and reading with the kids.

We celebrated Annesley’s 8th birthday a month early (rather than compete with Christmas), but it came with a couple disappointments. First, most of her friends were unavailable during the Thanksgiving weekend, so she ended up having only one party guest (plus the girl’s brother). Secondly, the kids were bursting with anticipation for the arrival of their cousins, but my brother called to tell us both his son and daughter had contracted the flu, so they cancelled their visit. Nevertheless, we played minute-to-win-it games, and Annesley had a great time.

Thanksgiving was lovely. My mom and her boyfriend, Ram, visited from The Villages. Ram is an estate-sale aficionado, frequently finding treasures that he passes on to us. This time, he brought a golf practice net, which was a big hit.

We set the table with our grandmother’s dishes and beautiful linens I had bought in India (with gift certificates from my students’ parents). I don’t exactly remember giving them to Megan … but whatever … it was nice to see them. I also gambled on a vegetarian “turkey” just for me; nobody else would have tolerated that. Turns out, it’s delicious!

I felt pretty special to make Annesley’s list of things she’s thankful for. (I’m Sha-Sha.)

At some point, I showed the kids how to use the Prisma app to play with photo filters. They went a little nuts with it, but some of their creations are fantastic.

Disclaimer: Hurricane Nicole had been downgraded to a tropical storm by the time I ventured into her bluster. Still pretty brave, I think. Or stupid. Anyway, it was worth the risk to hang out with this clan!

Summer Break Part one: Florida

School wrapped up the first semester on Dec. 20, and we immediately flew to the States to spend Christmas with my family. I had scheduled three weeks in Florida because I assumed my mother would need help. In the week after my father died, I felt so useful: organizing her paperwork, answering phone calls, contacting friends and family with the sad news, and so on. I figured I would pick up where I had left off a month ago. We crossed paths with our pet sitters at the Santiago Airport, handed over the keys and a few bits of information about caring for Ella, and then we were off.

Kaylene and Ned at the Santiago Airport

As always, I had a blast hanging out with my sisters and their families. Megan had decked out her home near Destin, FL, in full holiday regalia, including three Christmas trees. Kate and her family drove from Michigan with a van full of presents. My brother Mike and his family sat this one out, celebrating with out-of-town friends at their home in Abu Dhabi. My mom arrived on Christmas Eve. Of course, we had many melancholy moments, missing my dad. His absence was everywhere. With a bunch of little kids at Christmas, though, you have to keep a happy face. Kind of a blessing.

Megan and Britt had the most festive house in the neighborhood.

We all went to the movies. Some of us saw “Star Wars”; some saw “Frozen 2.” Posing outside the theater…

Not sure what happened here…
The night before Christmas …
We caught Santa setting up the Magnatiles!

I was a little bummed that Tony and I had failed to gear up in anticipation of the annual Dickinson Family Nerf War. I couldn’t find any weapons from past years, and I didn’t want to invest in more plastic junk. I begged my sister Kate to let us borrow some of her artillery. Her three boys easily own enough Nerf weaponry to outfit the actual U.S. Army. “We totally forgot to bring it,” she said. “We were in such a rush to pack the van and get down here!”

Turns out Megan also dropped the ball. She had purchased Nerf guns with incompatible bullets. Doh!

Christmas morning, we enjoyed the usual traditions: Kids wait upstairs until adults check to see whether Santa came. Play with stocking stuffers and eat cinnamon rolls. Open presents. On our “journey to zero waste,” Tony and I had requested no gifts this year. I tried to find plastic-free options for our presents to everyone else. I made lotion bars and bought homemade soaps for the adults, and I gave the kids photo puzzles made on the Shutterfly website.

At one point, the living room became eerily quiet. Suddenly, Kate’s whole family came barreling down the stairs in full attack mode, outfitted with helmets, face masks, cardboard shields, and Nerf weapons. I shouted out, “Embedded journalist! Hold your fire!” and ducked behind the kitchen island. So obviously, Kate had lied about forgetting the Nerf gear. Not only that, Nico had written an extremely detailed three-page battle plan with roles for each member of his family. It opened with:

After everyone is done opening presents, we run upstairs in the closet and get ready. This way, we already have the top floor cleared out as we make our way downstairs in the line going: Nico (shieldman), Dad (sheildman), Paul (gunman), Jack (gunman), and Mom (gunner) makes sure that we are not being ambushed from behind.

There’s even a diagram for clarification.

Classic.

Family Christmas Nerf War 2020
Megan wears protection while baking cinnamon rolls.

The only way to top an epic Nerf war is with a trip to the beach. So that’s what we did. Henderson State Park’s beach is practically perfect with baby powder sand and crystal clear water (too cold for me at this time of year, but the kids jumped right in).

Beach at Henderson State Park.

We had so much fun, we went back the next day.

Tony and I had promised to take the kids overnight, and Megan and Britt were looking forward to a romantic get-away. However, my mom was eager to get home, so Tony and I drove with her back to the Villages a few days earlier than planned.

Our rental property was free for the week, and we settled in, expecting to spend much of our time helping out at mom’s house. Turns out she didn’t really want or need help. Distracting herself from my father’s absence, she launched several big projects, including remodeling the master bedroom and bath. Realizing she and the workmen had things under control, and knowing we would have to check in to a hotel at the end of the week when our renters arrived, we decided to skip town again. Tony took a shuttle to the airport, rented a car, and picked me up to head back to Megan’s house. We figured we could offer to babysit for that get-away they wanted.

During the six-hour drive, I checked my messages using free wifi at a rest stop. Megan had texted, “Sha sha! I hope u get this, we booked our get-away room for tonight so we might leave the kids at the neighbors till u get here so we can spend a little extra time at the resort.” Ha! She didn’t even wait till we got there.

While I appreciate having the whole family together, there’s something particularly special about getting my lovebugs all to myself. No cousins to distract them. No siblings to distract me. We played Pokemon Monopoly and Sequence, assembled Annesley’s puzzle, read bunches of books, colored, ran around outside, and laughed a lot.

One day when Britt was at work, Megan took us all to Seaside, a quaint beach town where the movie “The Truman Show” was filmed. We had brought the kids’ bikes, and we rented some for the adults. We cycled around a lovely lake and through the quiet lanes lined with picturesque cottages.

Cycling in Seaside.

After lunch, we strolled over to the beach, just planning to take a peek. As if. Will and Annesley immediately started playing in the sand and splashing in the water. Seriously, how could they resist?

One highlight of this visit was watching the kids at karate class. The sensei was brilliant. I wish I had his classroom management skills. And I felt super proud of my munchkins.

Before heading back to Santiago, we popped by for one last visit with my mom. She let me take one of my dad’s ukuleles, which was a nice distraction when we got stranded in Atlanta overnight.

Back in Chile, I spent much of my time dealing with time-consuming, Spanish-mandatory frustrations: A large sum of our money was “missing” after an issue with a mobile deposit. We had to get our vacuum repaired. Someone stole the side mirrors off my car while I was at an appointment. Two of our balcony doors were broken and wouldn’t close. In addition, our house in Michigan needs more foundation work before we put in on the market again, so I was on skype with contractors and emailing with my realtor.

Still, we made time for a little fun. We saw the movie, “Yesterday,” at a free screening in the park by our house. I met up with a couple friends. We ate out (way too much!). The rest of the time, I could be found reading or napping on the balcony.

I really couldn’t complain … especially when I could look forward to our upcoming trip to Ilha Grande in Brazil!

“Your family is very stimulating.” – holding tight and letting go

For Thanksgiving, Tony and I enjoyed a traditional dinner in a basement bar. A short walk from our apartment in Santiago, Chile, the Black Rock Pub was packed with gringos gorging on turkey and stuffing (or in my case, a vegetarian plate overloaded with sides). As we shoveled green bean casserole into our mouths, we took turns expressing gratitudes.

It was mostly the usual stuff. We’re grateful for each other, our families, our friends around the world, our new Roomba robot vacuum … but I’m most thankful for something I had actually hoped to avoid for awhile longer: saying good-bye to my dad.

  • I’m thankful that my school released me to spend a week in Florida.
  • I’m thankful that my siblings were all there. Megan drove six hours; Kate flew down from Michigan; and Mike made the long journey from Abu Dhabi. 
  • I’m thankful for the neighbors and friends who distracted my mother and filled the fridge with food.
  • I’m thankful for the wisdom and kindness of the hospice nurses.
  • I’m thankful that his suffering was relatively short-lived.

Really, there was so, so much to be thankful for.

About two years ago, my dad contracted a debilitating cough, but doctors couldn’t find a cause for it. Inexplicable fluid retention bloated his belly and made him miserable. Angry purple bruises appeared after a minor bump into a door frame or a smack of his shin on a table leg. Blood work, CAT scans, MRIs … tests, tests, and more tests. Finally, a bone marrow biopsy resulted in a diagnosis: MDS. None of us had ever heard of it. 

According to the MDS Foundation

Myelodysplastic Syndromes (MDS) are a group of diverse bone marrow disorders in which the bone marrow does not produce enough healthy blood cells. MDS is often referred to as a “bone marrow failure disorder.” … To help you better understand MDS, it might be helpful to first consider some basics about bone marrow and blood. The bone marrow functions as a factory that manufactures three kinds of blood cells: red blood cells, white blood cells, and platelets. Healthy bone marrow produces immature blood cells — called stem cells, progenitor cells, or blasts — that normally develop into mature, fully functional red blood cells, white blood cells, and platelets. In MDS, these stem cells may not mature and may accumulate in the bone marrow or they may have a shortened life span, resulting in fewer than normal mature blood cells in the circulation.

MDS didn’t account for all his nasty symptoms. Doctors identified Epstein-Barr Virus as the culprit. His cough left him breathless and nearly incapacitated at times. During our family gathering over the Christmas holidays in 2017, he passed out, landing facedown on the floor. So scary. 

In October 2018, I took a week off work to spend time with my dad, whose condition was worsening. I sat with him during his daily chemo infusions at the clinic, a weirdly bonding experience. Normally overshadowed by my extrovert mother, chatty children, and gregarious grandkids, my dad opened up during those clinic visits. The first day, he brought a book to read, and I laughed, “Oh no, you don’t get to read! We’re going to talk!”

We fell into a routine. We’d scope out two adjoining recliners, and while the nurse checked his blood pressure, I would grab some apple juice and peanut butter crackers for him from the snack counter. We talked about his childhood and high school exploits in Bellevue, Washington. He shared stories about his parents. We discussed books we’d been reading, both of us fans of historical fiction and thrillers. We even managed to discuss politics and realized we’re both essentially moderates, just on opposite sides of the aisle. We laughed and laughed about crazy family stories, and we reflected on how fortunate we were to see so much of the world. Maybe we gossiped a bit, as well. 

I returned to Chile feeling a deeper connection to my father and wishing I had taken a chemo selfie with him. “There will be other chances, I’m sure,” he texted me.

It took more than a year to kick the virus out of his body. Virus-free, he felt much better. Not great, but at least he got back on the golf course, albeit with a “disabled” sticker on his golf cart, and he joined his golf buddies for lunch each Friday. 

A text message from him on Jan. 11 says: “Certainly kinda tired right now…and sore. Can’t hit the ball nearly as far as before and my putting kinda sucks.  Loved playing with the guys … they’re so funny!”

Unfortunately, just a few months later, Florida’s steamy summer weather and my dad’s declining condition combined to relegate him to the sofa, where he watched TV, read, and surfed the internet.

In September, doctors admitted his chemo wasn’t doing the trick. They decided to switch gears and put him on Venclexta, which, in his words, “is kicking my ass.” 

For about 30 percent of people with MDS, the syndrome progresses to acute myeloid leukemia (AML). Eventually, that’s what happened. By mid October, he had developed excruciating pain in his left thigh. He thought he had pulled a muscle, but doctors found a blood clot, as well as a lung tumor, indicators that he was entering the end stages of his disease. 

Tony and I had planned to spend Christmas in Florida, but after hearing this news, I decided to take time off work during the week of Thanksgiving. When I told Megan on Nov. 5, she said, “You might want to come sooner.” Within 48 hours, I was on a plane to the States.

I arrived at my parents’ house around noon on Friday, Nov. 8. My sisters were already there. My dad was propped up on a hospital bed, watching TV. I ran to him. “Daddy, I’m here,” I said. His whole face lit up, and he smiled, an unnerving sight as his mouth was full of painful ulcers. Blood coated his teeth. He couldn’t say much, but he reacted to us with single words, phrases, or – in typical fashion that triggered inappropriate giggling – obnoxious facial expressions. Kate took his guitar down off the wall rack and summoned her muscle memory to play “You’ve Got a Friend in Me.” 

My father learned how to play guitar when Mike and I were young, and we all remember many special evenings singing along to his old standards. That’s why it felt particularly poignant when he gestured for his guitar and took a stab at playing “Froggy Went a’Courtin’.” We used to crack up at his alternate ending, which led to Froggie’s gruesome demise as he dejectedly left Molly Mouse’s house and walked in front of a truck. Seeing him strum and sing with us one last time was the greatest gift.

My brother, Mike, arrived around 10 p.m. Dad had quieted down by then, but he still looked thrilled to see that all four kids had arrived. Overall, it was a weirdly uplifting day. 

Hospice wouldn’t send an overnight nurse until dad’s symptoms worsened, so we hired a private nurse, Marlene, to stay with him and give the family some respite. Mike and I checked in to a hotel, and my sisters stayed at the house. 

Saturday, Nov. 9, dad was much less communicative, sleeping most of the day. As a special service provided by Cornerstone Hospice, U.S. Army Col. Dave Johnson came over to honor my father for his 23 years of military service. Col. Johnson deftly posed questions and shared stories to keep him engaged, and he seemed to awaken memories that made my dad smile with pride. Dad was bright-eyed and alert during this short ceremony. Col. Johnson gave dad a veteran’s pin and certificate. For my mom, he presented a lap quilt made by hospice volunteers. At the end, Col Johnson and my dad saluted each other.

We spent much of the day just hanging out next to dad, talking, singing and stroking his arms and legs. A supervisor from hospice, Cindy, gave us a briefing about his condition. She said he probably wouldn’t last much longer. She felt like he was in the end stages of transition. He was starting to struggle to swallow, and his lungs were filling with fluid. However, by evening, he had calmed down a lot and seemed peaceful. We played some songs on Apple TV that we remember dad playing on his guitar. At times he would smile and relax into his pillow. Cindy said it was time to start 24-hour nursing. 

Our first nurse came in the afternoon. She was nice enough, but she mostly sat on the sofa and didn’t really do anything (well, we didn’t let her do anything). At 8 p.m., our night nurse arrived. Her name was Belinda, and she was fantastic. She immediately stepped in and started checking dad, cleaning him up and caring for him very closely. 

My favorite quote from Belinda was, “Your family is very stimulating.” 

We laughed because it was so true. I kept whispering into dad’s ear: “Daddy, You made me who I am today. You made me strong. You made me resilient. You taught me values that have guided my life. Don’t worry, dad, we’re all going to be OK.”

Megan employed her hospital training to roll dad over and give him massages, clean his mouth, put drops in his eyes, get him a drink of water, and whatever else was needed to keep him comfortable.

Kate would pick up the guitar and serenade him repeatedly. Mike was our DJ, finding playlists of classics that dad loved. He also clasped his Apple watch on dad’s wrist and kept up a running commentary on his vital signs. Mom flitted about, providing updates to the endless visitors. She would pop into the living room to say, “Paul! Bill’s here. He wanted to say how much he misses you on the golf course!”

Belinda said we would have to reign it in if we want to give dad an opportunity to pass. She said it was like poking someone who was trying to sleep. Fair enough. but when I was leaving for the night, I said to dad, “I love you,” and he said, “I love you too.” So, he wasn’t quite ready to go.

Belinda had warned us that some dying people experience transitional aggression. They get angry and frustrated and lash out at the people they love. “I hope he doesn’t go through that,” she said. Unfortunately, he did.

When Mike and I arrived at the house Sunday morning, Nov. 10, he was sitting fully upright in his hospital bed, gesticulating wildly and moaning with eyes full of terror. It was a horrible sight. Belinda said he spent the night alternating between holding her hand and trying to hit her. He spent a lot of time trying to get out of bed. She had to sit him up straight because he was coughing so much, but he would flail all around and almost fall over. 

Belinda was like a balm for our aching hearts, but her shift ended at 8 a.m., and Lisa arrived. She was kind and helpful. She seemed to know that her shift would be the last. Lisa started giving dad heavy doses of morphine to help him relax. Eventually he did. All of us kids sat by him and said some goodbyes and shared some memories. We all kept encouraging him to let go. At one point his breathing was very shallow, but then he took a deep, loud breath. “He’s fighting it,” Lisa said.

Mom was pretty manic. Her coping mechanism? She insisted on making bacon. “Don’t you want bacon?” she shrieked at me. “I’m a vegetarian,” I reminded her.

Around 10:15 a.m., I sat by myself with dad, held his hand and whispered to him. Eventually, the rest of the kids came in and joined me. We just sat quietly with him and his breathing got shallower and shallower. Finally, Lisa said, “I think he’s about to pass. You should get your mom.” She was in the kitchen talking to a visitor. But she came in and touched dad’s face and said her good-byes.

After a few minutes, he released a long final exhale. It took about three minutes for his heart to stop. I would have thought I’d freak out about sitting next to a dead person, but I just wanted to kiss him and stroke his head. We loved on him for awhile, and then the nurse called the funeral home. Two men arrived and very respectfully wrapped dad in a white sheet and then draped a flag over the stretcher. I felt a pang of sad realization when they pulled the flag over his face to put him in the hearse. We all did our traditional “binoculars and wave,” like we always do when a loved one pulls away at the end of a visit. 

The rest of the day is a bit of a blur. People visited. People brought food. Mom started calling people. I called a few people for her. Everyone was so kind. Dad was so loved.

The next day, Monday, was surreal. Hospice workers came by to collect the medical equipment and the hospital bed. Cami, a friend from high school who is like another sister, called from Virginia to order lunch for us from Olive Garden. More visitors. Mom and I went to the funeral home to finalize the cremation arrangements. She was very distraught and doesn’t remember that visit at all. On the way home, she suddenly decided that we should all go out to dinner at dad’s favorite Mexican place.

Mike decided to drive the golf cart by himself, while the rest of us took the car to meet him there. Mom got weepy and wasn’t sure she could handle it. We almost turned back. When we arrived at the restaurant, Mike had somehow gotten there first with his pokey golf cart. He had settled in at a table with chips and salsa and a margarita. “What took you so long?” he asked. By the end of the night, we were laughing so hard, tears were pouring down our faces. We all needed that.

We headed over to Aunt Bev’s house. A family friend, Bev has become more like an aunt to all of us. She knew dad even before he met my mom. She was married to one of my dad’s Army buddies, and they were all stationed in Germany together. Don’t you know she has some good stories in her vault? We had a glass of wine and played with her dogs. 

Now, I’m back in Chile. Many times in the last few weeks, I’ve had the urge to call my dad. I want to chat about books, the protests in Santiago, our house in Michigan that’s been on the market since March, our plans for the future, the migratory birds in his backyard, comings and goings of friends and neighbors in The Villages, his medical treatments. Of course, I immediately remember that he won’t be on the other end of the line, and my heart sinks. How can this be real? How can he be gone?

Despite the numbness, the confusion, the sensation that I’m moving in slow motion while the rest of the world has sped up, despite the grief … I can muster deep gratitude in this holiday season. 


Dad …

  • for taking on a single mother with two young children, adding two more kids, and molding us into a tight-knit loving family;
  • for the bike rides, the walks on the beach, the trips to Home Depot, the cups of coffee, the sing-alongs, and the advice;
  • for giving me the opportunity to see the world and learn resilience as an Army Brat; 
  • for modeling integrity, loyalty, hard work, and patience; 
  • for all the laughter and love;
  • for who you were and all that you brought to the world, I will always be thankful.

I’ll always remember you like this. Strong. Healthy. Sipping coffee on an early morning stroll along the beach in Ocean City, NJ.

frolicking with family in florida

For the second year in a row, we’re not spending the summer in Lake Orion, Michigan. It’s weird. For 10 years, we traveled from wherever we lived at the time – Laos, India, Chile – to meet up with my extended family at our lake house. We poured thousands of dollars into updating and renovating. We lit flares, watched fireworks, and otherwise reveled in the lake culture at the Fourth of July. We sat on the grass while the kids waded, snorkeled, collected little shells, jumped off the dock, and eventually grew big enough to kayak around the island.

Now, life has taken us in a new direction. Our house is on the market. Check it out here.

And we have a new rental property in Florida. Check it out here.

My parents live just a few houses down the road from our Florida house, and my sister Megan and her family moved to Destin, a 6-hour drive away. For a family of nomads, it seems Florida is the reunion destination for now.

We kicked off our “winter break” from school in Chile with a visit to my sister’s house in Destin. My other sister Kate drove from Michigan with her three boys. We saw “Toy Story 4,” had a perfect beach day, set up the bouncy slide, played Quizlet, and reconnected.



After a few days, we all drove to The Villages to meet up with my parents. My brother, Mike, brought his family from Abu Dhabi, where he and Summer teach at the American Community School. Tony and I had planned to stay at our rental house. We hauled in our bags, unpacked a bit, and then got a message from my property manager saying someone had booked the place. I had forgotten to block the dates! So, we repacked, cleaned, and headed to a hotel.

We spent mornings by the hotel pool with all seven kids splashing and playing together. We met up for lunch and dinner and filled the afternoons with hanging out, chatting, watching the wildlife in my parents’ backyard, playing, and bowling. Dancing in the Spanish Springs town square in the evening is always a hoot with these little guys!

Cousins playing Guess Who?
Megan taught me how to make DIY beauty products.
Poor Buddy. So much love from so many small people.
Tony with Jack and Annesley.
Goofballs at the bowling alley.

So much laughter! I’ll miss you all …

Easter Bunny brings mini family reunion to Florida

Tony and I have lived abroad for 17 years, and without a doubt, the hardest part for me is the lack of contact time with my parents, siblings, and seven adorable nephews and nieces. We chose this lifestyle to see the world, immerse ourselves in different cultures, and broaden our perspectives. So when a school break comes along, I grapple with a self-imposed guilt-ridden juggling act: Go home? Explore a new place?

The week before Easter, I chose to go home. I took a few personal days, combined it with our two days off school, and headed to Florida. I thought I would enjoy a little quiet time with my parents and get the scoop on my dad’s illness. That happened – a bit – but thanks to school holidays around the world, my visit turned into a mini-reunion.

My sister Kate brought her three boys from Michigan, and my brother Mike and his wife, Summer, traveled from Korea with their two kids. Our other sister Megan had just wrapped up a Florida trip, so she couldn’t justify joining us, unfortunately.

With live music in the town square every night, the younger kids danced their hearts out. The older ones are just starting to get embarrassed by their family, so they mostly sat out.

Max and my mom boogie.

This is my new go-to happy video. Jack was the life of the party.

We spent a day at the club pool, where my face hurt from laughing at the shenanigans of these silly cousins.

Max celebrated his fourth birthday with a pool party at the hotel. Such a cutie.

One night, I sent the other adults out to dinner while I hung out with the younger crowd at the hotel. It started to get a little out of control…

… so I turned it into a dance party! Each kid had to get up and teach us a dance move. Then we put it all together.

I was flying out Saturday afternoon, so Easter came a little early. The littlies colored eggs, and the next day they arrived at my parents’ house to find the Easter Bunny had hidden candy-filled eggs around the yard.

How is it I didn’t take a family photo? Sigh… As I mentioned, this kind of gathering doesn’t happen very often. This is the best I can offer. My nephew Paul kept “flossing,” a dance that literally every third grader in the freakin’ world is doing these days. So we made this video.

My dad and I spent one day together while the rest of the crew took off for a gator park. I took him to a doctor’s appointment, we ran a few errands, and we ate lunch at Sweet Tomatoes (always a treat!). With our loud, rambunctious family, he often struggles get a word in, so I appreciated this quiet time to catch up.

He and I launched a project to scan old photos. It’s a tedious, time-consuming process, but it was fun to reminisce about my own childhood and hear my parents’ familiar stories about their youth. I was going to post some of my favorites, but then I spent another hour or so sorting through them, getting lost in memories. I’ll just wrap up with this pic of chubby one-year old me.

Back in Chile, my heart aches already. There’s never enough time with that gang.

Summer? Winter? Vacation! Part 1: Christmas in the USA

Now that winter is summer and summer is winter, our school vacation schedule is upside down. For the last 15 years in Turkey, China, Laos, and India, we followed a North American calendar with a couple weeks off at Christmas and a longer summer break. In Chile, our “summer break” occurs now – from December to February.

To kick it off, we joined my sister Kate and her family at my parent’s house in Florida. Check out my last post about The Villages to get the scoop on this unusual place.

Christmas usually explodes all over my parents’ house, but my dad was under the weather and my mom couldn’t tackle the job alone. They put up a naked tree, and Kate’s three boys made cute decorations.

The first few days in Florida were cool but sunny. Kate, Tony, and the kids even went for a swim. I just dipped my legs in the hot tub.

On Christmas morning, we all opened our presents. Tony had just one gift left, marked “Open last!” He ripped off the paper to find a box of Cheez-Its, his favorite snack. Everyone leaned in to have a laugh, but it was a ruse. Even Tony didn’t know that I had wrapped up two Nerf guns and extra ammo. We pulled out our weapons and started pelting everyone. The kids shrieked and dove behind the furniture. The Christmas Nerf War is a Dickinson family tradition, so we were shocked that nobody else was armed. Kate quickly ran out to her van, where the boys had coincidentally left a couple Nerf archery sets. The kids holed up in the kitchen to load their bows. Eventually, Tony and I ran out of bullets, and we were too lazy to get off the couch, so we called a truce.

The boys wearing their silly knitted hats from Chile.

I also gave them each a little leather coin purse from Atacama, which Nico said was his favorite present. What a love bug.

The day after Christmas we ditched my parents and took off for the Kennedy Space Center Visitor Complex. The entrance featured the word “Explore” in huge letters with a rocket garden towering in the background. “This really is a dream come true for me,” said my brother-in-law John.

Visiting the various “mission zones” was like stepping through time, from the early days of America’s space program to the space race and moon landing to the ongoing efforts to get man to Mars. Most attractions featured videos with footage from the time period, NASA personnel commenting on their work, and astronauts reflecting on their experiences.

I had just watched the movie “Hidden Figures” on the flight to the States, so it was fun to put the true-ish story in context at the place where it all happened. One of the most fascinating take-aways for me was those first rockets launched with less computing power than we have in our cell phones today.

Gearing up for a 3-D movie about NASA heroes and legends.

Perhaps because I have such vivid memories of the space shuttle program, my favorite mission zone was “Shuttle: A Ship Like No Other.” I remember the pride and awe I felt over the Hubble Space Telescope and International Space Station, both made possible by shuttle missions. I also remember gathering in a friend’s dorm room at the University of Kansas to watch the launch of Space Shuttle Challenger and its horrific explosion that killed everyone aboard. According to the Kennedy Space Center website, “A ship like no other, the space shuttle launched like a rocket and landed like a glider while transporting astronauts to space and back for thirty years.”

At the space shuttle mission zone, the shuttle Atlantis was suspended from the ceiling, and exhibits demonstrated life on board for the astronauts. Atlantis flew its last mission – and the last of the shuttle program – in July 2011.

Nico and Paul check out a Mars rover concept vehicle.

On the Kennedy Space Center bus tour, we saw the insanely enormous gas-guzzling crawler-transporter that moves spacecraft from NASA’s Vehicle Assembly Building to the launchpads (which takes about five hours at a speed of 1 mph!). It is the largest self-powered land vehicle in the world. We also drove by the SpaceX building, where we glimpsed the Falcon Heavy rocket, the world’s most powerful operational rocket. SpaceX founder Elon Musk has said he plans to die on Mars, “just not on impact.”

At the IMAX movie, “Journey to Space,” we got a 4-D overview of NASA’s accomplishments and future plans. Four-year-old Jack fell asleep, but the rest of us were absolutely blown away. Such an exciting reminder of how far we’ve come and space adventures that await! NASA’s research and development in preparation for a Mars mission was straight out of a sci-fi movie.

We had expected to spend a few hours at the visitor complex, but we got there shortly after it opened and we left at closing time. It was an incredible place!

A few days later, Kate and her family packed up the van and drove back to Michigan, and Tony took off for Kansas to meet up with his sisters. My other sister, Megan, joined me in Florida for a few days to hang out with Mom and Dad, and then she and I flew to her home at Laughlin Air Force Base in Del Rio, Texas.

As soon as we pulled up to the house, these two cuties – Annesley and Will – ran out to greet me. So much love!

We went to the base library and checked out a bunch of books. I must have read Where the Wild Things Are 25 times. Stories and snuggles on the sofa? I could do that all day! We also played Headbanz, which was hilarious. At five years old, Will is surprisingly savvy at asking the right questions to guess the picture on his card. Annesley just tells you your picture, which essentially ends the game. I logged quite a bit of time pushing Annesley on the swing in their backyard, which was wonderful because she chattered the whole time.

Another highlight was Annesley’s tea party with her fancy china and stuffed animals. She fed them grapes and Scooby Snacks (dog bone-shaped graham cracker treats) and entertained them with ring-around-the-rosie and duck-duck-goose (tricky when your party guests can’t run).

Britt played ball tag with the kids in the backyard after work. They looked forward to it all day!

I got to visit each kid’s school. Here’s Will’s classroom.

One day, Megan took us for a hike in the Seminole Canyon State Park. The kids were good little trekkers, and Will genuinely listened to the tour guide, even asking a couple questions. (Maybe he’s the next generation Guide Hog?!) We walked to the Fate Bell rock shelter, where 4,000-year-old pictographs decorate the canyon walls. Our guide, Tanya, explained the ancient artists used minerals, plants, animal fat, and other natural resources to produce their paint. What do the pictographs mean? Nobody knows for sure, she said. According to the Texas State Historical Association:

The Pecos River style is a polychrome style that is considered a manifestation of the shamanic cult. The central characters of the pictographs are faceless anthropomorphic figures, elaborately dressed and often holding a variety of accessories such as atlatls, darts, and fending sticks. The figures are often depicted with their arms outstretched, and in later pictographs the anthropomorphs’ arms are increasingly stylized and seem to be more akin to wings than arms. At one end of the shelter there are also examples of Red Linear figures-a Late Archaic Period style characterized by very small stick figures engaged in various activities.

Tanya shares some details about the site while I marvel at the weathering and erosion that has sculpted the rock.

Looking out at the canyon from the rock shelter.

Some of the pictographs.

Megan checked out a Junior Park Ranger backback for the kids, which included binoculars, a sketchpad and crayons, a magnifying glass, and wildlife guides. So cool!

A prehistoric sea left fantastic fossils embedded in the rocks.

On another day, I got to combine two of my favorite things: my sister’s kids and horses! My brother-in-law, Britt, works with Ms. Jill, who recently broke her ankle and needed help keeping up with her five horses. Britt and I mucked out the stalls, which was much harder work than I expected. I actually only mucked out about half a stall before my body gave out on me.

The highlight, though, was this little guy. About four months old, he was 50% pony, 50% horse, and 100% loco.

One night, Megan took me to the Del Rio Civic Center, where the Lions Club offers bingo a few nights a week. I had no idea what I was in for. Bingo was serious business to this crowd. I’m guessing there were more than 100 people in the room, and many had their dauber collection on display. I bought a bright orange dauber and a bunch of bingo cards and then prepared to hit the jackpot. I was just two numbers away from winning $750, but alas, we both walked away broke but amused. And it was a great way to practice my numbers in Spanish! The bingo ball always appeared on the video screen before the announcer called the number in English and Spanish. I tried to say the number in Spanish in my head before she said it aloud.

Although my visit was too short, I felt grateful to experience a slice of life with my sister and her family.

Now, farewell to winter and hello to summer back in Santiago. We still have another month off work!