Every member of our furry family has a story.  When we lost our beloved cat Sweetie we vowed we were not getting another because we already have a zoo.  Months of sadness and empty loneliness went by.  Then I came across a Facebook friend’s post showing a picture of this “Blue Point Siamese” and other animals living in unspeakable conditions.  God bless animal rescuers who selflessly help defenseless cats, dogs, and wildlife.  Hesitantly, I showed my husband the picture and asked if we could just see him.  I think you can guess how this story progresses.  So now my husband and little girl are getting to witness the joys of a Siamese cat for the first time.  I TOLD them they were incredibly smart and very chatty.  He hasn’t stopped meowing or purring since we’ve gotten him and he has already escaped the confines of the bathroom, surviving next to our huge wolfies.  Dakota’s head alone is at least five times the size of this little kitten’s body.  They have also learned first hand the meaning of the term “high as a cat’s back.”  The little guy is fearless but still never hisses.  He is a mix of strong and sweet; a perfect fit for our family.  We all are in love; his name is Blue.

It seems as if the word “candid” is used as a negative a lot.  However, I would consider myself to be a candid person.  The word itself is defined as frank; outspoken; open and sincere; free from reservation, disguise or subterfuge; straightforward.  My handsome husband and I were attending a family dinner and when I glanced over I noticed Burk’s Aunt was trying to get a picture of us.  It got me thinking about how much of our lives are really candid.  In an age of posed selfies, I vastly prefer life’s moments caught unaware.  We were at the Petroleum Club attending a Murchison family rehearsal dinner and it was lovely.  It was packed and this picture was taken from a distance.  Rarely do we have pictures of us together and I am really glad she took this and sent it to me.  The American writer Connor Franta said:

“It always surprises me how much my followers appreciate how candid my photos are – they may not have a particularly unique subject, but it’s more about the light you shed on the subject than the subject itself.”

I love this quote.  Looking at this candid picture of us I would like to think it says we are a happy couple that loves each other and looks out for one another.  Vainly, I would like to think it says, “Hey, they’re a great looking couple.”  Whatever the light that was shed on us here I am happy to have the memory … candid.

We were at the doctor’s for my little one’s annual wellness visit.  Thankfully, the plethora of vaccines were over and it was more of a check up.  I found myself thinking how ironic it was she was proud she’d gotten bigger all while I am striving to be smaller.  Not that I would ever tell her that.  I want her to have a positive body image and I suspect she is going to have my build.  I am proud of that and would not want to change it for the world.  Instead of taking off a onesie down to a diaper she was given a modesty “gown” which opened in the back.  It sort of freaked me out realizing how fast we had already reached this point.  She has always asked to see books, but I have read them aloud to her.  This time she asked if she could try to read.  I was shocked when she laboriously but triumphantly made it through an entire page!  I could not believe it.  I LIVE to read and I knew this marked the beginning of a whole new world for her for the rest of her life.  The American actress Helen Hayes said:

“From your parents you learn love and laughter and how to put one foot before the other.  But when books are opened you discover that you have wings.”

I think my little one is beginning to grow wings.

My father was a painter, and he painted a lot of houses in a town called Highland Park.  It is for the extremely wealthy and he was so good at his job that is where he got most of his business.  I often rode with my father in the summer and we drove a lot down a street called Mockingbird that ran right in front of the Southern Methodist University campus.  In the early seventies there were not a lot of Mexicans so people assumed daddy was Hispanic.  Being half Choctaw, his skin was a very dark red.  We could not afford a nice car but it was used for work anyway.  Invariably, we would get pulled over.  Was it racial or economic?  I believe it was a bit of both.  My father always complied with the police but as I grew older I started to understand why he was targeted.  He had wanted to go to SMU but he only lacked six hours from having a double masters in history and economics.  SMU became my dream in the fourth grade when I sang in Caruth Auditorium as part of the Dallas Girls’ Chorus.  Despite my grades in high school the guidance counselor never met with me to discuss colleges.  My father encouraged me to start with Richland Community College while I worked.  During my time at Lord & Taylor a woman who came in a lot would often tell me I should apply to SMU on an academic scholarship transfer.  She was a stranger but for some reason she believed in me and would always ask if I was going to do it.  I am proud to say my father lived to see me graduate from SMU.  My Daddy used to say the one thing that can never be taken away is an education.  So I carry that with me and I want my little one to carry it with her as well.  You can see by this photo I’ve tried to indoctrinate her early!  This was her first Homecoming.  The American Evangelist Billy Graham said:

“The greatest legacy one can pass on to one’s children and grandchildren is not money or other material things accumulated in one’s life, but rather a legacy of character and faith.”

Yes I am an alumni and my daughter will be a “legacy” at SMU.  But it is my father who left us the real legacy.

It turns out this mermaid snuggle blanket I got for my little one’s birthday was just the thing.  She’d caught the first “bug” of the school year but at least it was after her party.  She was cold and did not want anything to eat.  I came in and found her like this, thinking to myself she looked so beautiful.  A true mermaid, her reddish curls were fanned out behind her.  Eyes as deep and dark as the ocean peeped back at me fighting back sleep.  “Rest little one” I said as I sat next to her and stroked her forehead which was beginning to show beads of sweat.  I knew a fever was coming.  There is no more helpless feeling in the world than to see your child sick.  I realize parents deal with it every day but it is still gut wrenching.  She didn’t want to color and she didn’t even want her iPad.  I held her hot little hand and we said a prayer that she would get well soon.  The American lecturer Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “The first wealth is health.”  I absolutely believe that to be true.  I am going to be grateful to God for my family’s health as I wait for the strong resurfacing of my little mermaid.

Fast forward five years in the blink of an eye!  It was my little one’s fifth birthday and she wanted to have it at this indoor place where they have bounce houses and slides.  First they put you in a room that sort of resembles American Gladiator for littles.  There are these enormous balls on which kids try to hop all the way across or they fall into a bouncy pit.  It reminded me of watching frogs jump as the more nimble ones aced the course.  Then you can request bubbles to cascade down from the ceiling.  One can simply never be too cool for bubbles!  At a certain point they herd everyone into the next room with more slides and different bounce houses only they turn off the lights.  All these little white socks were running around glowing under the black lights.  They had glow necklaces and bracelets so wary parents could at least have some semblance of where their kiddos were.  There were blurry psychedelic images of little ones gone wild; like some sort of a kiddie rave.  Just before they all dropped I heard requests for “CAKE!”  So shoes were put back on, hand sanitizer was dispensed, and everyone rushed into the party room filled with sea star balloons and oceanic decorations.  Her theme this year was The Little Mermaid.  I do not want her to be spoiled (one reason why I always request the pleasure of her friends’ presence and not their presents.)  But I do want her to feel celebrated, special, loved, and happy, especially on her birthday.  She had been looking forward to having her friends at her party for months (an eternity to a child) and she was so excited.  The American author Bruce Barton said, “If you can give your child only one gift, let it be enthusiasm.”  I want her to have enthusiasm for God, helping others, caring for God’s creatures, protecting the environment, learning, and enthusiasm for life.  So I am really glad she began her next year pumped up.

All while I was growing up my daddy used to tease mama that she couldn’t wait just eleven days so I could be born on his birthday.  So when people found out I was due in October they kept asking if I wanted her on my birthday.  “NO!” I would emphatically declare and I’m sure some people thought I did not want to share my birthday.  I DID want to share a birthday … my late father’s.  I literally could not believe I got pregnant and then I could not believe I was due in October.  That’s why her middle name is Grace, because it is by the grace of God that she is here.  I like something the Spanish actress Penelope Cruz once said:

“All those cliches, those things you hear about having a baby and motherhood – all of them are true.  And all of them are the most beautiful things you will ever experience.”

My beautiful baby carries my late mother’s name and has my late father’s birthday.  And she was mine at last.

It’s funny.  My mother did not want any pictures of her pregnant for some reason and I never realized until it was almost too late I did not really have any of me expecting either.  As a strawberry blondish haired, green eyed child who had a red haired, brown eyed mother and a black haired, blue eyed father kids used to taunt me and say I was adopted.  Really I am a mix between the two.  I wanted to have at least one picture so my daughter could see I carried her and she was all ours.  My whole pregnancy was easy and wonderful without complications and I had just turned 41.  I never even had one day of morning sickness.  Right before we left for the hospital I asked my husband to take this.  From behind people didn’t know I was pregnant but when I turned around I usually got a lot of comments.  We were going to the same hospital where I was born in the same month only many moons ago.  I had no idea what to expect; I just knew my baby was almost in my arms.  The American Pulitzer Prize winning writer Carl Sandburg once said, “A baby is God’s opinion that life should go on.”  And I had been waiting on her my whole life.

I’m not sure what people expect from us.  We don’t own a pool, belong to a country club, or go to the beach more than once a year.  However, my father could not ever swim and it was very important to him to make sure that I could.  My fair red haired mother freckled her skin broiling in the sun to take me to swim lessons at the local community college.  Being part Indian, I just tanned a dark red and never burned.  But my mother still sacrificed to bring me and my father, who had contracted polio when he was three days old, only wished for me to know what he did not.  I went on to swim in junior high and high school and did pretty well.  All my parents really wanted though for me was to know that I could swim.  Before Mama passed she was very concerned that our little one knew how to swim on her own.  And I have somewhat stupidly and belatedly realized one MUST swim before going into the ocean.  So her Daddy and I were beyond proud and pleased when our little one was graduated from the beginning level to an intermediate one.  She went from a Dolphin 1 to a Dolphin 1-2.  Dolphin 2 is truly independent and that is what we are really looking forward to her achieving.  The American author Robert Collier, founder of Collier’s Weekly, once said:

“Most of us, swimming against the tides of trouble the world knows nothing about, need only a bit of praise or encouragement – and we will make the goal.”

That is all we want for our little one … to make the goal.

One of the earliest commercials I remember is of a gorilla banging around luggage in a zoo cage.  I am reminded of that every time I have a package delivered looking like this.  No matter how many bright orange signs or how many times the word “fragile” appears, my packages seem to arrive looking like a gorilla has beaten them to bits.  Sometimes I think the stickers actually invite transporters to manhandle the packages out of some perverse form of pleasure.  I have a mental image of two guys kicking it toward the truck and waiting for the sound of broken glass rattling before chunking it inside.  Whatever the case it never fails to make me dread opening a package like this praying the contents are still in one piece.  The Roman poet Ovid once said, “Beauty is a fragile gift.”  I would like to think that is not so.  I believe that beauty is strength in the face of adversity and the courage to stand up for what is right.  Beauty is tenacious, beauty is defiant, and beauty is unconventional.  Feelings may be fragile, egos may be fragile, but never beauty.  No, to me beauty is anything but fragile.