Family Conference (A Parenthesis)

Sorry I’m late posting again this morning.

Today, for the third time this week, my server balked at letting me (or anyone else) visit my website or blog. This is getting personal. I think that server hates me.

Or, perhaps it’s that the devil strangles my site so that a waiting world is denied my daily words of wisdom… Or, maybe God blocks the site because He thinks I talk too much. He’d rather I live for Christ instead of just babble about Him.

However, in God’s own good time my server will reappear and I’ll be able to post again. I usually get up between 3 and 4 a.m. and I like to have each day’s entry on the net before 6 a.m. whenever that’s possible.

The server is not the only thing disrupting my important (to nobody on earth but me) work of editing that 16^th Century Puritan diary.

Yesterday morning my youngest daughter showed up at the door in tears. Her tale of woe included a bounced check, a dispute with her landlord, and a frustrating, fruitless job search — quite a load for a young woman to carry.

I held her on my lap for a while and let her cry on my shoulder. That’s what dads are for. We spent the morning revamping her resume before she went off for a job interview. Then I took her out for comfort food and let her crash on the sofa for a nap while I arranged a family conference tonight.

We gathered at Donald and Helen’s house where Helen served the seven of us a scrumptious impromptu dinner on a moment's notice.

My middle daughter, Eve, bubbled with an account of her business conference in California (she just flew in again last night). She stayed with Uncle Ricky and Aunt Dot while there and they attended the Chinese New Year Parade in San Francisco. They took her to see giant redwoods, a whale migrating just offshore, sea otters feeding, and an art exhibit featuring original Escher engravings. She claims to have tended to some business for her employer there also (but you wouldn’t think so to hear her talk about the tourist charms Ricky & Dot took her to).

She said that as her plane was on the tarmac at the airport, she watched from her window seat as a mechanic worked on the wing. He was trying to attach some loose fixture and could not bolt it down. So he took out a roll of duct tape, ripped off several strips and patched whatever it was. When several passengers who saw this repair expressed dismay, the pilot came on the intercom and assured everyone that such repairs to an airplane wing with duct tape are routine.

Feel reassured about flying now?

At our family conference, around a blazing fire in the backyard firepit we put our heads together to discuss the wounded one’s (actually we’ve all been wounded one way or another in this) situation and came up with the beginnings of a plan which may set her on her feet. Much of it depends on her. But these items ranged from a new hairdo to spiritual guidance.

While we all ventilated our feelings (we try to maintain a crap-free zone in our homes and say what we think and feel freely) yet we all tried to be supportive. For her there is now the prospect of help packing, free storage for her furniture and possibly a rent-free apartment for a short time.

Few things in life please me more than seeing these wonderful people who are my family dealing with problems in harmony (more or less) even as they tease unmercifully and bicker about the red, orange or green stickers in their “Death Wish” lists (that’s stuff of mine they each one want when I die). This sticker discussion has been going on for years at virtually every family gathering and it generates lots of laughter every time.

Needless to say, today I did not get done a single page from the 16^th Century. Too busy living in this one with people who are likely to live well on into the 21^st.

The world is a better place because of them.

It’s been a good day.

A really good day.