Crime Scene Photos & Sunsets

Sunset Slolitude
Carlsbad, California 2010

For spring break we flew to Maui, Hawaii, this trip was largely planned becuase of our son Alex. One of the many faucets of Alex's autism includes his tendency to fixate (or, for the big medical word of the day, in the autistic world we call it, "perseverate") on a specific subject or item of interest. I could list those interest from the age of one, however, I think it might be like when a new mother (I was one, so I know) hands you her iPhone so you can see the pictures of her baby, while she hovers, her nimble fingers flipping from photo to photo entranced, while you, perhaps, are trapped looking at yet another angle of little Amy sleeping, while your boys are just off to the right choking each other. So, all I will say is, currently, Alex has been obsessing about visiting Hawaii, (not a bad obsession, honestly) and I confess, while I did want to visit Hawaii, I might have picked something more low key for spring break, but I honestly couldn't handle looking at another Hawaiian website, or discussing for the thousandth time if Hawaiian  pineapple is really better than mainland pineapple, and what the amount of the charge fined to snorkelers who touch endangered sea turtles is. I couldn't take rereading the highlighted portions of his favorite guide book, or answering the question, "What's the thing you want to do the most in Hawaii?" again.  (Always I answered, "relax on the beach and watch the sun set, and get some great photos.") Plus, I knew if we didn't go, the obsessive behavior would only intensify. I would have to read even more highlighted sections of even more books on the best place to scuba dive, and discuss even more routing options to the dormant volcano, and relive the distinctive sound of the mating call of the humpback whale, and agree with him that locals really do only eat Hawaiian food at Da Kitchen. So, like so many times in our lives, we did what we had to do to make the insanity stop. Luckily, in this case, we had to go to Maui. (work, work, work).

Russ (who, did I mention, has been living and working for the Department of Defense in Texas for the past ten months) flew home to Jackson and picked up the boys to fly them over because I had to work. Then, later that night, I flew over (BY MYSELF! If I had access to some really cool computer technology I would make an angelic choir sing, "by myself" when you ran the mouse over the words. Alas I do not have access to angle choir singing computer technology. But image I did)  the next day. It was lovely. However, because I had to work an early shfit, and because of the way the flights worked out, by the time I got to Maui, I had only had about three hours sleep in about 48 hours. So, I crashed. Big time. So did Russ. Luckily my parents were there to make sure the boys didn't spontaneously combust. By the time I woke up on that first day, it was dark outside, the sun had already set.

A rare family photo: Notice the strategic placement of our children... child-adult-child-adult-child.
(Obviously we could never have a fouth!) Logan looks slighly drugged;
but it is Vegas, so he fits right in! April 2011

The next day I was determined to see the sunset. Perhaps the smart thing would have been to have just scouted out the perfect spot on the beach and stayed there until the sun went down. I rarely do the smart thing. By the time we had explored a few different beaches, grabbed some lunch and rented snorkel gear, the day had flown by. I knew what time it was, as I watched to boys bobbing on the waves, their bright snorkels helping me keep track of their locations, but they were having the time of their lives swimming with sea turtles and schools of exotic fish. So even though I knew the late hour, I couldn't quite bring myself to drag them away. We just had time to stop by the condo to grab my camera before the sun went down. and while we were there Logan announced he had to go to the bathroom. Russ had already gone ahead with the other two boys and my parents, so I was stuck waiting for Logan to relieve himself. Logan never relieves himself in any sort of record time. And, for the record, saying, "hurry up"  only makes things worse because he doesn't like to be rushed. By the time we got to the beach, only a faint glow remained to remind us that the sun had once been in the sky. On the upside,  Russ had a learning moment, (he has had many over  the years of our marriage)  where he begin to understand he should never again utter the words, "Where were you guys? You missed the most awesome sunset!" This phrase, apparently is the catalyst to change my normally dormant self into something of a she-hulk. Apparently, my DNA has always been mutated, it just took this phrase to send me into a new and throbbing realm, one where I saw all sorts of shades of green. I may have accidentally thrown sand at Russ' face.

So on day two on Maui, I missed the sunset again.

Day three we went on a whale watching trip. My boys loved spotting the humpback whales and seeing the tails of the mother and baby. We explored different beaches, went snorkeling again and had lunch in a fishing village. This time I was prepared! I had my camera handy. I made everyone go to the bathroom at regular intervals, and Russ, oddly enough, made sure I was sitting on the beach with plenty of time to savor the sight of  the sun sinking into the sea. Sadly, the horizon was thick with clouds, so once the sun dropped into the clouds, you really couldn't see much, but I was determined to make the most of the sunset. I broke out my camera and made the boys pose. Alex hates having his picture taken, and when he tries to do a posed smile, he looks nervous and constipated, therefore, we have to try to say something funny to make him laugh and look somewhat normal. He just found out about diapers for adults and thinks the prospect is hilarious. So I casually mentioned, all in good fun, that grandpa happened to be wearing an adult diaper (he wasn't which Alex knew. This just made it all the funnier). Alex laughed and laughed, then he announced, "I know grandpa doesn't really wear diapers, but Logan does." (When we travel, I usually give Logan a pull-up in case he happens to have a rare accident.) Logan, as mentioned previously, has Viking DNA coursing through his veins, and he didn't particularly care for Alex announcing to the world that he wore diapers. Logan lept at Alex, his hands coming together mid-air in a choking motion. Russ, luckily, jumped between the two boys before we had to start CPR compressions, but Logan was M.A.D. He was spewing forth a stream of insults in Alex's direction. Alex, meanwhile, just laughed at Logan's reaction (perhaps he's a typical big brother after all). We sent Alex to go climb on some rocks nearby, and continued to take pictures of Spencer and Logan. As I was posing the two boys with Russ, a nice lady walked by with her dog and said, "Could I take a picture of your whole family?" Knowing that would be disastrous, I said, "Oh no, we don't want to interrupt your walk!" But she was a kindly woman who said, "Nonsense, I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to help. Now! Get your boys so we can do this." Reluctantly I called Alex over from the rocks. Russ placed Logan on his far side, and I placed Alex on my far side. Before the lady put my camera to her eye, Russ whispered in my ear, "Do you think she does crime scene photos?" The lady said, "Say cheese" and Alex said, "Say diapers!" and Logan charged and leaped on Alex before she had even pushed the shutter button. "Oh dear!" The woman exclaimed, almost dropping my camera in the sand, "I don't know how to proceed" she stammered as Logan choked Alex, in a scene that might remind you of when Homer Simpson chokes Bart. I shoved Russ forward to retrieve the camera, while I said something soothing to Logan, like, "release!" and sent the boys to opposite corners of the beach. Mostly though, my whole focus was spent on avoided eye contact with the kindly woman with the toy poodle.

Notice Russ' death grip hold on Alex (and you thought it was all about affection!)
December 2011

That night I lamented over the lost sunsets. I agonized over the clouds, the neurotic boys, the poor woman who may possibly be in therapy this very moment with post traumatic stress disorder after witnessing our family togetherness, I imagine her saying to the Doctor, "I don't know, Doctor, I guess what it all comes down to is my faith in humanity has been shaken to it's core."

Like many times in my life, I wanted back the days, I wanted a do-over, I wanted a different outcome.

The fourth day in Maui was amazing. I made no plans, I had no expectations to be dashed, no dreams to be crushed. I just decided to go with the flow. It was a lovely, lovely day. We had cake on a balcony overlooking the ocean to celebrate Alex's 14th birthday. I made virgin pina colada drinks we sipped leisurely.  Logan and Spencer played in the pool, Alex walked along the shore, and spotted a whale from the beach. When it came time for the day to end, we all walked down to the edge of the ocean, our bare feet digging into the sand, and while the boys played in the surf, I was gifted the perfect picture moment. The sun was glorious in it's intensity. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and as that perfect day slipped, so effortlessly, into the sea, I felt at peace with my world. From my chair I could hear the boys playing and laughing together and I knew I was blessed. It was an evening I will remember forever.

So here's what I learned. Some days the sun can't set fast enough. Some days it's barely past sunrise and I'm already longing for midnight. Then, there are days I wish would go on forever. Regardless of my wishes, the sun sets each night like a metronome, steady, steady, steady. It sets on good days and bad days just the same. And while I know do overs aren't allowed, I am grateful for a reset, for a chance to rest in the quiet, in the dark, and greet a new day with hope.

I am learning to savor the good days, commite them to memory, drink up every last drop of light, to serve as a reservoir I can dip myself in on those days of bleak despair. And I am starting to understand there are things to be learned from bad days too. Things like never mentioning the word "adult diapers" again.

The sun rises on another hopeful day. Wilson, Wyoming 2012