it isn't good to be alone, it isn't good

Meet Chuck (Norris), our new Betta Siamese fighting fish, a gift from Emily to her dad this Father's Day. This isn't actually Chuck, but a picture that looks quite like him.

Bettas are native to the rice paddies of Thailand and Cambodia. The aggression of bettas has been studied by ethologists and comparative psychologists (got that from Wikipedia). Bettas usually must be in a tank by themselves, because they will fight to the death. This excludes mating, of course! Bettas will even respond aggressively to their own reflections in a mirror (haven't we all?). Interestingly, though,they are quite curious and will watch humans going about their business nearby. I often catch him eyeing me while I wash the dishes or wipe the counters.

When I fed Chuck his 3 flakes of fish food this morning, I felt sorry for him, all alone in there. I can't stand for anyone, man or animal, to be alone. I think that is pretty much how we all react.

When Ryan (good family friend) and the girls brought home a bunny for Frank for his birthday one year (gosh, it seems like we always give him animals on holidays, doesn't it!), we were home only a few minutes when we rushed back to get bunny #1 a buddy. We had been through the "one bunny" scenario, and it didn't work out too well....lots of hissing, growling, biting. Sidenote: That Bunny's name was Bun-Bun, and was given to Allison her freshman year of college by a suitor, who asked her to the spring formal by giving her a baby bunny in a cage with a note that said, "We'll have a hopping good time!" So cute....but somehow, we ended up with that bunny!! One day he escaped. Frank was devastated ("GIRLS.....two of you go that way, two of you THAT way...and find him!") We never did find him, so that's why everyone wanted to get Frank a replacement(s). Sorry for the long explanation, back to my point....

If I see someone alone, my heart goes out. That sentiment has really propelled me into trying my hand at matchmaking at times, and to collecting elderly friends who don't seem to have anyone else. I'm always introducing my menagerie of independent study students to each other, hoping they will find something in common and become friends.

As I mentioned, bettas cannot coexist with another fish, they will fight to the death. I guess there are some people like that. They won't let anyone get close, and guard their hearts a little too well. It's sad to see what they miss.

So, being the betta that he is, why does Chuck look so lonely? Why does he seem to watch our every move through the plastic walls of his mini-aquarium? I have to wonder what this fish is thinking. I know he has to want company, someone to tell about his day...what he saw, heard, how many laps he did around the pool, all the day-to-day stuff.

I remember one night I was visiting in Provo, all by myself, and spent the night at my brother's house. He and his wife had prepared a really nice, cozy room for me to sleep in, but when I was in bed, with the lights out, I felt an odd, unfamiliar feeling. It was lonliness. I truly felt like a fish out of water, so to speak. No one to talk to til I fell asleep, no hand on my shoulder, not even any snoring. I missed the familiarity and closeness of my family. I distinctly remember thinking, "Is this how it feels to live alone?" I suddenly had so much compassion for anyone who does....the widows, the single moms, anyone with no one.

I suppose there are some who are used to it, who relish it, who actually enjoy the solitude. Not me. It's nice to have a little alone time occasionally, to sit back and think, evaluate, and dream. But I have to have my connections. My family and friends make my life what it is.

Chuck, Chuck, Chuck....I want you to have a friend, a playmate, someone.....anyone! I'm going to start looking for a little fish friend for you....because it isn't good to be alone. It just isn't good!

losing it

I was getting my hair cut the other day, and somehow the circuitous path of our conversation found me telling my hairdresser a funny story. In short, it was the time that I went to the doctor and as is customary, after waiting in the waiting room for about half an hour, they put me in the examination room to wait again for the doctor. I consider myself to be a pretty patient person, but after waiting there for almost two hours (I know, I know....), I thought THIS IS RIDICULOUS! I cracked opened the door, and found that all of the lights were out, everyone was gone, and the janitor was sweeping the floor. They had forgotten me.

I finished the story, and we were both laughing. Then she said, "That is SO funny!" As soon as she said that, I suddenly could not even remember what I had just told her. I had no inkling whatsover. I was too embarrassed to admit that to her, and just laughed along with her, mentally scratching my head. Oh dear.

I'm not the only one.

A few days ago, Frank dropped me off at JoAnn's Fabric store, while he went to a sporting goods store, instructing me to call him as soon as I was ready, which I did. I waited out front for quite some time, then gave him another call. He said, "I can't remember the code to get into my truck!" He was in the process of calling Emily to ask her what it was. Reminds me of the time a couple of years ago that he was paying for groceries at Costco, and couldn't remember his debit card pin number, and was calling all of our girls at BYU, asking them for his number. That took some time, while everyone in line waited. It was a stressful experience for him, but hilarious to the rest of us. Thank heavens our girls still have THEIR marbles.

This morning as we were walking into the gym, he said, "What's my membership number again?" I told him, and then said, "Just picture the number in your mind, typed...that's what I do." He replied, "No, that's overload". I said, "Huh?" He said he'd explain it to me later. He'll probably forget to tell me, and I'll probably forget to ask....or I'll remember to ask, and he'll have no recollection of ever saying that. That seems to be how it goes these days.

My friend Danelle texted me, "I agree"....and I had no idea what I had said that she was agreeing with. When I asked her, she couldn't remember.

At the Rocklin Jubilee a few years ago, after the parade, I was navigating my way through the traffic in old Rocklin in 100 degree weather, when I saw an elderly man looking lost, hot, and tired. I pulled over and asked if he needed a ride. His name was Blackie (a nickname because his last name is Black), and he sheepishly said, "I can't remember where I parked my car." Blackie politely insisted on riding in the back of the truck because he was a "stranger". We drove all around the streets of Rocklin that way, looking for his car, which we eventually found. Poor Blackie.

Now I'm wondering....is that what's next? Are Frank and I going to come out of a store, and have no idea where our car is? (OK, fine....it happens all the time, OK?)

We're losing it. I'd be sad if it wasn't so darn funny! I just hope that the next time I'm laughing, I can remember what I'm laughing about...:)

oh, the joys of fatherhood

I was looking for a picture of our girls to post for this Fathers Day post, and came across this one....one of Frank's favorites. It captures the side of them they sometimes keep hidden from the general public. They would rather this photo be destroyed than posted on my blog, and I'll have to pay for this, but....I think it's worth it. I think! Having a photographer father does have its downsides, girls. Everything gets documented.

The girls love their dad. REALLY just adore him. Sometimes they think he can on occasion be unreasonable, but even then they think that makes him all the more loveable. Every little thing he does is so "cute" and "funny". I love hearing them talk about their dad....with so much affection.

They respect him and his opinion and advice. It carries a weight and wisdom that mine does not, and I have always appreciated that. It's because of him that they have become who they are. The development of their character and values comes largely from him. They never want to disappoint their dad, and that helps guide their actions. They know he loves them, would do anything for them. And they for him.

Frank has always found joy in being a father. He has a special and unique relationship with each of the girls. He loves each one for who they are. Their dad has had the rare opportunity of spending more time with his girls than most fathers get to. He's been their coach, their teacher, and had a lifetime of summers to spend working and playing with them. He has taught them to fish, to play golf, made them watch all his favorite old movies (Casa Blanca for one)....taught them how to work hard...to hammer, paint, and hand him that "whatchamacallit". They have always been his carpenter's assistants, his boat backer-upper guides, his carwash buddies, and has taught them all the proper way to eat Chips Ahoy cookies with milk.... They carry in their memories volumes of experiences with their dad....some funny, some life-changing, all unforgettable and cherished.

We all love his laugh, how he dances when he hears a favorite song. He has a tender heart. He prays for his children's success and happiness. He is a great example for them and a blueprint of what they are looking for in a husband and father. They are so proud of him.

As his wife, today I am so thankful to have been his partner in raising our girls. I love him like they do, and he has made me a better person. Happy Father's Day, Honey!