Louis is sitting here, waiting for his “writing muse”, and thinking about all the unanswered Christmas cards on the window sill and how the previous weeks, filled with activity, blur into an image sequence of frenzy and questionable importance. So much has changed in the last year and so many people have gone in so many directions.
Our family is a reflection of this. We now have three teenagers (deliberately and inexorably developing into their own persona), a pre-adolescent, and an eight-year-old. (Not to mention the three dogs and a geriatric, diabetic, and cantankerous cat.)
Frank is a sophomore at Plymouth State University in New Hampshire. He declared his major and is studying Business and Finance. He has his own circle of friends away from home now and, aside from the few times he “hangs” with his old high school buddies in their effort to eschew the boredom and indifference with this town, can’t wait to go back to school. He’s taking a business course over winter break, so he’ll be leaving after New Year ’s Day rather than stay home most of the month of January. Over the summer, he worked in a local garage as a mechanic’s helper. He plays bass guitar at school in a rock band.
Dad observes, vacillating between a knowing understanding of the lessons that will be learned (sometimes the hard way) and a jealous wish to be 19 again – can’t go back.
Here is a case in point. For about $300, a student can get a full season lift ticket at three of the best ski resorts on the East coast. One recent morning, while a group headed to one of these resorts about 20 minutes from their school, Frank’s friend totaled his car. The picture of the bent, sheet metal wreckage was on their Facebook account within the hour. Fortunately, no one was hurt. In fact, unfazed by the incident, they continued their journey (don’t ask me how) and managed to get in a full day of skiing.
Caroline, 17, is a senior in high school and has blossomed into an energetic, enthusiastic, talented, curious, and interesting individual. Her passion for art has grown. She has her work all over the walls of her room and has written a comic strip of over 300 pages to date. She has an interest in theatre arts (scenic design) and has managed the painting and construction of many of the school plays. The highlight of her high school stage career came this past March when she was in charge of the painting crew for the production of “Les Misérables”. There were over forty set changes. She and her friend individually painted the fortress set used throughout the play.
She is now at the end of the process of applying for college. Caroline has developed a portfolio of about 20 works for the colleges to review. She has also completed SAT’s, ACT’s, college applications and essays, and latest semester’s school work and stage production. This week, SUNY Purchase, a New York state university that specializes in the arts and is about 20 minutes from our house, accepted Caroline in three different schools: the liberal arts college, the Conservatory of Art, and the Conservatory of Theatre. Before making her final decision, she is waiting to hear from some of the private schools including the School of Visual Arts in NYC and Rhode Island School of Design (RISD) in Providence. Dad’s hoping for a scholarship. We’re all very happy and excited with the SUNY acceptance because this is her second choice. She wants to work towards her BFA in Illustration and Cartooning.
Veronica, 15, is developing very uniquely. Her hair is now an attractive shade of auburn after she dyed it fuchsia last month. This accompanies a creative and individualistic sense of style. Veronica has always been a natural at everything – good in school, music, sports, etc. – the kind of person you love to hate. However, she is a middle child and a teenage girl. So now, we have talent in everything and interest and motivation in nothing. Well, that’s not exactly true. While Mom and Dad have been busy, shall we say monitoring and guiding – ok arguing with – the two older kids and chasing after the 8-year-old, Veronica has developed a sophisticated and successful talent for “flying under the radar.” Ahh, but the situation is changing because next year the two older siblings will be gone and Mon and Dad will have more time to focus on our middle, soon to be “oldest-living-home” child. The plot thickens and the tension is already palpable. Stay tuned.
Adolescence is just starting to rear its ugly head with Matthew, our twelve-year-old, where boyish interest and enthusiasm live and the occasional and moderate showings of rebelliousness are still charming. Matt does well in school and plays in a lacrosse league. While sports are not yet is strong suit, he is developing an interest in exercise and the size and definition of his biceps. Matt also plays the drums and is becoming quite talented. He has an Ipod and listens to his rock music while he tries to follow the drummer on the recording. Dad’s hoping Matt and Frank can start a successful rock band so he can retire from the daily grind.
Dad is very old. He turned 60 in July. Last year, about this time, he joined the local gym in town. The place is magnificent. He goes there four to six times per week (Mom is glad to finally get Dad out of the house in a timely fashion) and spends most of Saturday morning there. (They call these people gym rats.) He’s lifting weights, cycling (“spinning”), and taking classes in yoga and boxing. Alas, in a year, he has lost no weight because he loves to eat. No regrets.
Mom continues her intense (read neurotic) obsession with animals. This year, we adopted, at great expense, a purebred Samoyed puppy – now a 60-pound ball of white, fluffy hair. His name is Shadow. Mom has also begun a fanatic relationship with the dog’s breeder, and they are discussing how to “show” the dog if all the details work out. The breeder was so impressed with Suzanne that she gave us lifelong custody of a second Samoyed, Shadow’s half sister, named Gypsy. Early each morning, we are awakened to the sound of howling and baying as the animals in the house take on pack behavior. After a morning ritual of licked faces, filled water and food bowls, and “outside potty,” we spend the remainder of the day dodging four-legged, white, streaks careening through the house knocking over furniture and other unorganized detritus strewn with random and illogical placement and covered with shed dog hair.
Nicholas, 8, has a very singular way of looking at the world. He’s good at math but needs some help in writing and reading. He earns his allowance by writing stories of eight-plus sentences. He also gets a penny for each adjective and adverb. Nicholas now has a whole lot of money, and we have a collection of priceless stories. We plan to publish them someday.
Nicholas still believes in Santa Claus. You can imagine how excited he was tonight. He sent Santa his Christmas list weeks ago asking for video games to be left under the tree. Dad asked him, “Why don’t you just buy the games, you have enough money?” He said, “It’s much better to get them for free.” You can’t argue with that. Maybe we should put Nicholas in charge of the Federal Reserve.
Well, before Nicholas went to bed, he put a glass of milk and four homemade cookies out for Santa. The “elves” are busy now wrapping the presents. Tomorrow, we are looking forward to a little magic that makes the Season.
We all wish it for you as well. I hope this letter finds all of you and yours happy and in good company this holiday season.
Merry Christmas and a joyous, happy, and healthy New Year.
Lou, Suzanne, François, Caroline, Veronica, Matthew, and Nicholas
