Category: Appreciation

What’s Not to Love about Carrot Cake?

They called it carrot cake, but this cake was a lot more than carrots, and it was awesome!

I had my first piece of carrot cake in 1974, or maybe it was 1973.  We were at my uncle Denby’s wedding, and the cake they served was this oddly wonderful concoction of flavors I had never tasted.  Being one of the munchkins in the crowd, I did what smart munchkins did back then:  I eavesdropped on the adults who were talking about the cake.

They called it carrot cake, but this cake was a lot more than carrots, and it was awesome!

I don’t remember having carrot cake again until college.  I may have had it before then, but those memories are lost in a din of other information like the capital of North Dakota, the difference between an adverb and an adjective, why the earth rotates around the sun and not the other way around, and who shot J.R (we watched that episode with a huge crowd of Hilltoppers in a hotel bar in Rosarito Beach, but that’s another story).

Whenever I see carrot cake as a dessert option at a restaurant, I order it.  Carrot cake muffin?  Gotta have it.  I’ve sampled carrot cake recipes across the US, and even a couple in foreign countries.  Some are decent.  Claim Jumper’s is probably the best, especially with a scoop of vanilla ice cream (everything is good with a scoop of ice cream).

When the time came to choose our wedding cake, Janet and I chose carrot cake.  Actually, I think Janet knew I’d love it, and it was her small wedding gift to me.  The only bite of that cake I got that day was in the cake-cutting ceremony.  We were too busy with all the other wedding stuff to actually eat any of the awesome cake we’d chosen.

As good as everyone else’s carrot cake is, none come close to mom’s.  Mom’s is the only carrot cake that captures the awesomeness of my first carrot cake experience in the ‘70s.  It’s simply the best.

Unfortunately, my love affair with all things carrot cake came to a screeching halt a little over a year ago when I was diagnosed with gluten intolerance.  Someone asked me recently what I miss the most now that I basically can’t eat anything made with wheat, or containing gluten as an additive (it’s hidden in tons of sauces, dressings, and of course, beer).

The first thing that popped into my head was carrot cake.  It’s not that I miss the taste of carrot cake so much (but, really I do).  It’s the freedom to try everyone’s attempt at carrot cake…knowing that none will compare to mom’s.  I miss getting to have a huge slice of carrot cake at mom’s, and then getting to take about half of the cake home (since it’s not everyone else’s favorite) to enjoy every night for a week.  There’s nothing like a slice of carrot cake and a tall glass of milk after a hard day of whatever I did that day.

Thanks to gluten intolerance, I thought those days were gone.  Not so fast!

Turns out there’s an excellent gluten-free “all-purpose flour” available at Trader Joe’s.  What’s the first thing I thought of when I saw it?  You guessed it!  I need to get mom a couple pounds of this stuff so she can make some of her carrot cake with it, just in time for my 49th birthday!

We are about t-minus one hour from heading over to mom and dad’s to celebrate the September birthdays in our family (there are a bunch of them).  We’ll eat some barbecued steaks with all the trimmings.  But, more importantly, we’ll be trying the gluten-free carrot cake that she and my niece baked.  I’ve heard that it’s pretty good.

I know it will be awesome.  Why?  Mom (and my niece) made it, and that’s all that matters.

 

It’s Only a Hundred Years

The life we build is rarely planned, and only takes shape in retrospect…

“I’m 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I’m just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are”

I’ve come to realize that life can be divided into quarters, each (hopefully) lasting 25 years.  Every quarter has its own unique challenges, and opportunities.  Some things we care deeply about in one quarter don’t matter as much in the next.  Each quarter carries mystery, and revelation.

“I’m 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I’m a ‘they’
A kid on the way, babe.
A family on my mind”

Experience reveals the nature of our mysteries.  A total mystery in one quarter often becomes a given in the next.  I have a good friend who likes to say, “I’m gonna be one smart mutha, just before I die.”  I suppose that’s the irony of life.  Just as you’re totally prepared to live it, it’s over.

“I’m 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I’m heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life”

It may be a revelation to some that we are never totally prepared.  We never know everything (and don’t remember it even if we do).  We rarely understand all that is happening around us.  The life we build is rarely planned, and only takes shape in retrospect.

“Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We’re moving on…”

This doesn’t mean that we throw all caution to the wind, ignoring what others have learned, bouncing from one experience to another.  Life carries a ton of mysteries, but we can (and should) learn from those who have gone before us.  Those who faced similar mysteries, similar challenges.

“15 there’s still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Everyday’s a new day…”

Each of us has something to share with our fellow travelers.  We can shed light on their mystery.  Show a way.  Lead by example.  Reveal truths that we can clearly see.

“I’m 99 for a moment
And dying for just another moment
And I’m just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are”

In the process, we reveal new truths for ourselves, see with new eyes, and listen with new attention.  That’s the journey.  Enjoy every minute of it.

“When you only got a hundred years to live.”  -John Ondrasik, Five for Fighting

 

 

One Syllable Words

The assignment: Describe the most dramatic moment in your life. Easy. But, there were two rules…

The assignment:  Describe the most dramatic moment in your life.  Easy.  But, there were two rules:

1) You have 15 minutes.

2) Only use one-syllable words.

That’s a little tougher.

Here was my entry:

“The rate is gone!”

“Turn her!”

“Code blue!” yelled the nurse.

All of the white coats on the floor were there fast.  Jan’s eyes showed her fear.  I was no help.  I froze and watched in awe.

One nurse pushed some drug in her arm.  One nurse held her hand.  Two docs barked new plans and the group worked their plan.

“Crash cart!” yelled one doc.

“We must go in.  The child may be lost!”

This was our first child.  We had been there for a day and a half, and now this.  What did it all mean?  Would our child make it out to see the world?

They ran down the hall on her bed with wheels.  There I stood.  The clock read five. The mess showed what was left from my child’s fight for life.  Where did they go?  I did not know so I stood there in the dark for at least three ticks of the clock.

“Sir, your wife is fine,” the nurse said.  She had found me and showed me to the room.  “Your child is fine.  Come in and see.  Would you like to hold her?”

Our girl was born!  From out of the dark, the world turned bright for us all that day.

***

Twenty-five years later, yet it seems like only a few minutes have passed.  Julianne made her dramatic entrance, and our lives have never been the same.

Happy (slightly early) Birthday, Julianne!

 

Some Things I Know to Be True

  1. Airplanes generally don’t crash due to one failure, or unexpected event. They rarely crash when a second failure happens.  It’s usually the third unexpected event that brings it down.  This tragic truism in real-life plane travel can be applied to life.  Consider your own “plane crashes.”  Were they preceded by just one failure, or unexpected event?    It was probably the second and third failure that actually brought things down.  We learn more from failures than successes.  Even better are the lessons that come when we honestly and thoroughly investigate our own plane crashes, and the series of failures that caused them.
  1. Speaking of success. Success is all about definition.  The only definition that matters is the one you create for yourself.  Success, by any definition, won’t bring truly transcendent happiness.
  1. Transcendent happiness comes from within.  Its foundation is a belief in something greater than yourself.  Something that you can’t touch, taste, see, smell, or hear.
  1. Speaking of something greater than yourself.  Love is the most powerful force in the universe.  It transcends all time and space.  Love can’t be stopped by death.  Being loved, and loving others, fills your soul.  Love is free, and yet it has infinite value.
  1. Teaching your son to cook blueberry muffins for his dad is one of the best gifts a mom can give to her son (and husband). Texting a photo of that cooking lesson to his grandpa is a great way to demonstrate truth number four.

James_Cooking_Muffins

The Most Powerful Feature on Your Phone

Smart phones have unbelievable power. I recently read that the Apollo 11 spacecraft that landed on the moon had…

Smart phones have unbelievable power.  I recently read that the Apollo 11 spacecraft that landed on the moon had 1,300 times less computing power than an iPhone.  And, I bet the iPhone takes better pictures than most of Apollo 11’s cameras.

Continuous connectivity, access to all the information the internet has to offer, games, and the ability to talk to family and friends from almost anywhere (it is a phone after all).  All great features.  But there’s an even more powerful feature.

Airplane mode.

It’s not just for flying.

Next time you’re asked to silence your cell phone, try airplane mode instead.

Going for a run, bike ride, or a workout at the gym?  Airplane mode.  Your music will play just fine.  Better yet, how about listening to the rhythm of your own thoughts?

Having dinner?  Airplane mode.  Enjoy the sanctity of good food and good company (that would be the people at the dinner table with you).

Watching your kid’s game?  Airplane mode.  Try out the video capture capabilities of your phone without being interrupted by some alert.

Playing Risk with your kids?  Airplane mode.  Worldwide domination demands your undivided attention.

Walking on the beach with someone you love.  Airplane mode.  Hold their hand instead of your phone.

Continuous connectivity is amazing.

Airplane mode controls the very definition of “continuous.”  That’s real power.

Use it wisely and enjoy being present.

The End of the Beginning

I should mention one detail: I wasn’t Catholic…

sistine-chapel-ceiling

There I was, about to enjoy my Chipotle for lunch, listening to some financial news, when the commercial came on.  The Catholic Channel was covering the papal election over on channel 129.

That’s right, I thought.  They’re electing a new Pope today.  Funny, we had just visited Vatican City a few months before Pope Benedict announced his retirement.  What a beautiful place!  It was huge.  Michelangelo’s paintings in the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel were breathtaking.  The views of Rome from the top of the dome in St. Peter’s were spectacular.

What do they talk about on that channel when there isn’t a papal election, I wondered.  I switched over to 129.  My timing wasn’t bad.  The two hosts were all fired up.  A new Pope had been elected!  Their excitement was overwhelming.  “We have a new Vicar of Christ, and he’s about to make his first appearance,” one of them said.  They were waiting for him to come out and make his first appearance in the window above St. Peter’s Square.

As I sat there, listening to them talk about this new Vicar, I realized I had tears running down my face.  Tears of happiness.  “We” had a new Pope!  A new Holy Father to shepherd us in the Way of Christ.

I should mention one detail:  I wasn’t Catholic.

Why was I so excited about this new Pope?  Why was my heart filled with new joy and warmth at the thought of this new Pope and the energy he’d be bringing to the Church?

I drove back to work, wondering for a minute what this all meant.  I quickly turned my thoughts to something else.  I switched my radio over to The Blend, and acted like nothing had happened.

As I drove home from work later that day, I switched back to 129 to hear more about the new Pope.

I let almost a year go by without taking any action, or telling anyone about my new-found favorite station.

It’s not like the news that I had suddenly felt a spiritual (religious?) connection to the Catholic Church would be unwelcome in my family.  My wife and daughters are Catholic.  My daughters both graduated college with theology and philosophy degrees.  My in-laws are Catholic.  Many of our friends are Catholic.  I’ve been an active volunteer at our Church for years.  I had always been connected to the Catholic Church, but never had a spiritual connection.  I never truly believed.

Now, for the first time in my life, I believed.  An emptiness I didn’t know I had was suddenly filled.

I remember going to a weekend camp when I was about eight years old.  Big David (who was a few years older than Little David, who also lived on our street) invited me to attend his camp in the mountains.  That sounded pretty great to me, and I’m sure my parents were happy to have a weekend break from one of their rambunctious sons.

I didn’t know it at the time, but it was a Bible camp.  This would be my first introduction to anything religious, since my family wasn’t religious.  We arrived and were assigned to our cabins and counselors.  I don’t remember my counselor’s name, but I do remember one of the first questions he asked me.  “Bobby, have you accepted Jesus into your heart?”

Who was Jesus?  What does he mean to accept Him?  Why was I the only one he asked?  What is this place?  I spent an awkward weekend, being a volunteer kitchen helper (each cabin was in charge of service for one meal), listening to lectures from the Bible, and being asked at least once a day if I was ready to accept Jesus into my heart.  Needless to say, my first introduction to Jesus didn’t go well.

I had a few more introductions over the years, and finally was introduced more formally by my (soon-to-be, at the time) wife, Janet.  I learned a lot about the Catholic Church as I prepared to be married in one.  And yet, I still didn’t know who Jesus was.  I kept having the same questions I had when I was eight.  Besides, I had things pretty well figured out, and going to church was a lot of commitment.

It’s interesting to me that the number forty comes up a lot in the Bible.  Jesus spent forty days in the desert, fasting, and praying (and being tempted by Satan) after he was baptized.  Only then was he fully ready to begin his public ministry.  The Israelites spent forty years in the desert before they could return home.  Noah’s Ark was put to use after it rained for forty days and nights.  Moses spent forty days and forty nights on the mountain with God.  Jesus was with his disciples for forty days after his resurrection.

From my first (messy) introduction to Jesus until this past weekend when I was baptized into the Catholic Church, I count forty years, almost to the day.  I’m sure it’s a coincidence.  Just like my random decision to switch over to channel 129 that day.  Or, the way my daughter added some Christian music to my iPod.  Those songs kept coming up over and over each time I went for a run.  I got to know those songs pretty well.  So well that I actually started thinking about their meaning, even before that day our new Pope was elected.

My baptism, confirmation, and first communion last Saturday night were the culmination of an almost year-long preparation process.  The process included classes every Sunday, after Mass.  It also included a ton of reading that I assigned to myself.  Books about the Rosary, the Saints, Saint Paul the Apostle (the Saint I chose as my Confirmation Saint), and the Holy Land.  I also did lots of reading from the Bible itself, as well as the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

Funny thing is that throughout this process, I couldn’t wait for each Sunday to come.  I couldn’t wait to learn more about my faith, my Church’s history, and the love that Jesus has for each of us.  What was an unreasonable commitment to my younger self has become an integral part of who I am today.

After forty years, I’m coming to the end of the beginning of my relationship with God.

Looking back, I can see so many places where God was with me, even as I ignored Him, or spoke against Him.  He was patient.  He knew I’d eventually find Him right where He’s always been…beside me.

 

 

The Mystery of the Dots

Our lives can seem like a collection of random experiences, decisions, non-decisions, near-misses, lucky chances, chance encounters, crazy ideas…

MysterySeashell

I recently participated in my first Church retreat.  It opened with an exercise where each participant drew a seashell out of a pile of seashells.  Written inside each shell was one word.  The facilitator then asked each of us to say how this one word connects with our lives.

My word was Mystery.

As I sat pondering the word, I couldn’t help thinking about all the dots in my life that have connected to bring me here.

Connect-the-dot puzzles are a great way to teach kids how to count, and see that there can be order in the apparent chaos of a bunch of dots on a page.

Our lives can seem like a collection of random experiences, decisions, non-decisions, near-misses, lucky chances, chance encounters, crazy ideas, mundane thoughts, risky ventures, explorations, challenges, victories, losses, successes, failures, limitations, beliefs, non-beliefs, triumphs, heartbreaks, new directions, people, places and things.

These are our dots.

We create some of the dots, but most of them are already there, waiting for us to connect.

Which dot comes next?  Do we choose, or is it chosen for us?  Is there a pattern, or at least some path, in all these dots?  I like to think we have something to do with deciding which dot comes next, but certainly not everything.

Nearly every major turning point in my life (good and bad, but mostly good) was unplanned.  Sure, I may have been prepared to capitalize, but the actual “dot” came out of nowhere, often by chance.

To paraphrase a quote from The Way (a movie I highly recommend, by the way), “You don’t choose a life, you live it.”  We all make plans, and try to map out where we’re headed.  The truth is, we don’t have as much control over things as we’d like to think.

Letting go of the illusion of control is a big step toward happiness.

The happiest people I know live their lives as a verb, rather than something to be controlled, or pondered in the past tense.  They are always seeking, always learning, always renewing.  They usually spend a lot of time serving others.  They don’t know which dot comes next, but they’re open to the possibilities.

I can see some big dots in my future, but I know there are a bunch I don’t see.  That’s the great mystery that makes life so awesome.

Two Stories for Lent

As Lent begins, I thought I’d share these two stories…

As Lent begins, I thought I’d share these two stories.  Both are classics, and worthy of contemplation:

The Doctor and the Father

A doctor entered the hospital in a hurry after being called in for an urgent surgery.  He had answered the call, dropped what he was doing, and went directly to the surgery ward.  He found the boy’s father pacing in the hall waiting for the doctor.

On seeing him, the father yelled, “Why did you take all this time to come?  Don’t you know that my son’s life is in danger?  Don’t you have any sense of responsibility?”

The doctor smiled and said, “I am sorry.  I wasn’t in the hospital and I came as fast as I could after receiving the call.  And now, I wish you’d calm down so that I can do my work.”

“Calm down?!  If that was your son in that room, would you calm down?” asked the father angrily.

The doctor smiled again and replied, “I will say what Job said in the Holy Book: ‘From dust we came and to dust we return, blessed be the name of God.’  Doctors cannot prolong lives.  Go and pray for your son, and we will do our best by God’s grace.”

“Giving such advice is easy when you’re not concerned,” murmured the father.

The surgery took many hours, after which the doctor went out happily to greet the father.  “Thank goodness, the surgery was successful, and your son is saved!”  And without waiting for the father’s reply, he carried on his way running down the hall toward the exit, as he yelled, “If you have any further questions, please ask the nurse!”

“Why is he so arrogant?  He couldn’t wait a few minutes so that I could ask about my son’s state?” asked the father when he saw the nurse minutes after the doctor had left.

The nurse answered, tears coming down her face, “His son died yesterday in a car accident.  He was at the funeral when we called him for your son’s surgery.  And now that he saved your son’s life, he left running to attend what’s left of his son’s funeral.”

We go through life, never truly knowing what burdens others are carrying.

Which are you?  The doctor, or the father?

 

Lunch with God

A little boy wanted to meet God.  He packed his suitcase with dress clothes, and some packets of cakes for his journey.  He walked a long way and felt tired.

As he sat in a park to rest, he opened a packet of cake to eat.  Then he noticed an old woman sitting sadly with hunger nearby, so he offered her a piece of cake.

She gratefully accepted it with a wide look and smiled at him.  Her smile was so pretty that the boy longed to see it again.  After some time, he offered another piece of cake.  Again, she accepted it and smiled at him.

The boy was delighted!  They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word.

When it grew dark, the boy was frightened and he got up to leave but before he had gone more than a few steps, he ran back and gave her a hug and she kissed him with her prettiest smile.

When the boy got home and opened the door, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face.  She asked him, “What did you do today that made you look so happy?”

He replied, “I had lunch with God.”  Before his mother could respond, he added, “You know what?  She’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen in my life!”

Meanwhile, the old woman, also radiant with joy, returned to her home.  Her son was stunned by the look of peace on her face and asked, “Mom, what did you do today that made you so happy?”

She replied, “I ate cakes in the park with God.”  Before her son responded, she added, “You know, he’s much younger than I expected.”

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring.  Each has the potential to turn a life around.

People come into our lives for a reason, for a season, or for a lifetime.  Accept each of them equally, and let them see God in you.

 

 

The Finest Gift

It was like a perfect slice of the sun walked in the room.

Bingo changed my life.  The Alamitos dorm held their annual bingo tournament in the Commons, and a friend told me I should go.  Sounded like fun to me.  What else was a college freshman to do just weeks before final exams?  But, we’d have to wait a few minutes for one of his friends who’d be joining us.

She can shop all over town, turn the gift shops upside down.
Finding something for her man with everything.

I noticed her eyes first.  Then her smile.  It was like a perfect slice of the sun walked in the room.

“Bob, this is Janet.  She lives in the girl’s wing on our floor.”  Suddenly, words were a little hard to find.  “She’s a CIS major too,” he said, breaking the silence.  Talking about your major was always a good ice breaker.

But it’s right behind her eyes and no matter what she buys
She’ll always be the finest gift she brings.

Playing bingo is similar to a movie from a first date perspective.  There’s not a lot of time for chit chat.  Not that this was a date.  After all, we just met.  I was starting to string words together again, just barely.  This was the one person who would change my life forever, but this was also bingo.  It all about the numbers.

I wasn’t thinking about anything except how to see her again.  Then it happened.  I got a BINGO!  The prize?  A week’s membership at the Jack LaLane Health Spa.  That was nice, but didn’t get me closer to seeing Janet again.  Lucky for me they had more memberships to hand out.  A few games later, with one of the memberships on the line, I could see that Janet was close to having bingo.  How awesome is that?

Every year it’s never missed, should be at the top of every list.
It can never be outdone, it’s the perfect gift for everyone.

I’m sure I was the most excited person in the room when Janet yelled, “BINGO!”  We had matching membership envelopes!  This was my opening.  We were only three or four weeks away from the end of spring quarter.  We’d be moving out of the dorms for the summer…Janet wouldn’t be living just down the hall.  I had to move fast.

It’s in everything you’ll see, scattered underneath our tree.
You can hear it in the carols that we sing.

The details are a bit fuzzy for me as I think about our visits to Jack LaLane’s.  I do remember sitting in the Jacuzzi (I presume, after we had done our workouts).  The more I talked with Janet, the more I knew she was THE ONE.  And yet, I only had a few weeks.  The abyss of summer break was fast approaching.  I had to stay focused, which was impossible whenever I was around her.

It’s the heart of love’s design and it appreciates with time.
And she’ll always be the finest gift she brings.

Janet and a group of her friends were planning a trip to the Griffith Park Observatory to celebrate the end of the school year.  I knew a few of her friends (some were neighbors on my wing).  But, I wasn’t exactly part of the Griffith Park trip plan.  What do you do in that situation  Invite yourself, of course.

We had a small convoy of cars that night.  I couldn’t believe I was in the passenger seat of Janet’s convertible as we approached the observatory.  This was like a date, but not quite.  We were part of a big group.  Everything was closed at the observatory (college students work the late schedule), but we walked around the grounds and checked out the stars for quite a while.  I remember how the lights reflected off Janet’s eyes more than anything else.

Our road trip wasn’t over.  We stopped at a Tommy’s Burgers on the way back.  My first chili burger, on my first (almost) date with Janet.

Every year it’s never missed, should be at the top of every list.
It can never be outdone, it’s the perfect gift for everyone.

Only six weeks later, we were in my parent’s Toyota 4×4 pickup, following my family down to Gonzaga Bay in Baja…about 100 miles south of San Felipe.  Why not go to the middle of nowhere in Baja, off road, with this (awesome) guy you met playing bingo?  Janet is an adventurer, to say the least.

Now it’s not in any store and she could never give me more
Then her promise of the finest gift she brings.

Three years later, we shared our first Christmas as a married couple.

Christmas_1988

Our adventure continues to this day.

The finest gift is truly the one I receive every day (including Christmas).

Her love.

I know her love’s the finest gift she brings.

Clint Black sure got it right:  http://youtu.be/wGe96bEL7B8

 

Life is…

Life is a celebration…

As we end one year and prepare to begin another, it’s a great time to reflect.

What have I completed, and what will I begin?

How did I fail, and how will I succeed?

Who did I help, and who will I help?

What is my true mission?

I found this great reminder (as I often do) in a quote from Mother Teresa:

“Life is an opportunity, benefit from it.

Life is beauty, admire it.

Life is a dream, realize it.

Life is a challenge, meet it.

Life is a duty, complete it.

Life is a game, play it.

Life is a promise, fulfill it.

Life is sorrow, overcome it.

Life is a song, sing it.

Life is a struggle, accept it.

Life is a tragedy, confront it.

Life is an adventure, dare it.

Life is luck, make it.

Life is too precious, do not destroy it.

Life is life, fight for it.”

 To this list, I’d add:

Life is a journey, explore it.

Life is failure, learn from it.

Life is service, give it.

Life is a gift, share it.

Life is a celebration, enjoy it!

© 2014 Bob Dailey.  All rights reserved.