Summer has been busy, crazy, and fun. As I'm slowly getting more organized as my schedule slows down a bit, I paused this morning to savor the wonderful emotions associated with the first day of school. In a flash of inspiration and silliness I uploaded a video to Facebook. It wound up on the evening news at King 5 in Seattle (must have been a slow news day!). You parents out there will totally understand how I was feeling this morning!
Check it out now on King 5 here;
http://www.king5.com/video?id=101991528&sec=549122
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Holly & Christian
Last week was a whirlwind in preparation for my sister-in-law Holly's wedding. With my wife Heidi as the wedding coordinator every detail of the week was intricate and beautiful and the wedding itself at Port Gamble was incredible, eclectic, entertaining and even aquatic (see above). Holly and Christian enjoyed a very unique celebration. This I know for a fact since I've been to over 900 weddings. I've never witnessed a groom finishing making his own tie less than two hours before a wedding.
Two nights before, Heidi put on a rehearsal dinner for 30 people at our house. It's unbelievable to me what she is able to create for a party. Cocktail hour was on our back patio and dinner was in the breezeway outside my studio. The next day I ran off in the afternoon to the Camp Goodtimes carnival to get my hair done in a bright red mohawk and then lead an enormous whipped cream fight (I'm not making that up!). After 4 showers and another wonderful dinner some of the wedding musicians hung out with us in the breezeway and took turns making my guitar do things it had never done in it's life. Now whenever I walk by it, it just ignores me.
Heidi with her cocktail hour tableau.
The lemon drops were a hit.
Johnathon making my guitar hate me.
Holly's best friend Iman reflects for a moment (or checking out the dessert options).
The wedding day came and went so fast, so once again, thank God for photography. So many wonderful moments punctuated Holly and Christian's day and it truly was a family affair. Heidi doing the coordinating, me with my cameras, my son Miles helping out with the video, Heidi and Holly's sister Heather doing all the flowers, my daughter Alex was beautiful as a junior bridesmaid, our good friends were all the worker bees, Christian's entire family sang and performed music for the ceremony and reception, and Christian's dad provided the perfect touch as the officiant. We even had some champagne left over...how was that possible?
I'll let some pictures tell the story.
Congratulations Holly and Christian! The canoe graffiti artist was correct. It's obvious by everything that happened on your wedding day that this is "4 EVA" (and to top it off you float each others' boat).
P.S. If you don't hurry back to our house your extra wedding champagne might not be here any more. :)
Monday, July 5, 2010
One of the strongest women I've ever known
(Karen at the bottom of a pathway just
up from the beach at camp)
This is a photograph I took of my dear friend Karen just moments after she, along with her husband Gregg and son David, scattered the ashes of her daughter Katie in the waters off of Camp Goodtimes on Vashon Island in keeping with Katie's wishes. Katie went, as Karen likes to put it, "kicking and screaming" to camp in June of 2007 and wound up having the time of her life. Tragically, her cancer returned and she passed away only 7 weeks after returning home.
It took three years for her family to be ready to hop into that canoe and paddle out into the middle of Quartermaster Harbor. It was a blustery overcast day and Karen, Gregg and David calmly climbed into the tandem canoes. They invited me along as an extra paddler and I was honored to be included. They are such a loving family. To see Katie's wish be fulfilled by those who loved her more than anyone else was one of the most beautiful things that I've ever seen. It was solemn, it was thoughtful, it was loving, it was an exclamation point on a wonderful life cut short by a terrible disease.
Karen has been such an inspiration to so many people in the time since Katie's death. She has freely opened herself up to share her own personal story in such a way that has already had a tremendous impact on the world. She has written, spoken, and volunteered her way through her own grief journey and in the process has helped inspire others to keep their own hearts open to the struggles that kids continue to endure at the hands of life threatening diseases.
Her strength is mind-boggling.
I suck at Blogging!
Ok...it's been two months now since I last posted and a billion things have happened since. There's so much that I'd like to share with all 4 of you who read my blog! I'll try to be better about it as the summer goes on. I just got back from a week at Camp Goodtimes so that is what will dominate my next posts. These kids have been through so much and yet the overall feeling at camp is not that of an ongoing struggle that they are having but instead the deep down need to celebrate life and just be a kid. A childhood is alive and well at all times at Camp Goodtimes, regardless of a particular diagnosis. In the last two months I've also photographed a number of very fun weddings, portrait sessions and other random things. I'll share some of those images soon.
Oh my goodness, going to click "Publish Post" for the first time since my birthday!
Oh my goodness, going to click "Publish Post" for the first time since my birthday!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
A Random Coincidence
I keep thinking about a little girl that I met last Friday.
I went to Children’s Hospital to visit a friend from Camp Goodtimes. I knew she was going in for chemo so I thought I’d try to see her and her mom. I went to the regular spot in the hospital where I had visited her before and stopped to check in at the reception counter. I was told that she was there and was probably on a bike ride around the floor. That did sort of strike me as a little odd because Susie is 13 years old and perhaps a little big to be riding around through a hospital ward.
The nurse asked me to follow her back in towards the individual rooms. As I was walking back I saw one of the nurses that I know who volunteers at Camp Goodtimes, Lysen, also known as “Yahoo”, who is about one of the nicest people you would ever meet. While I was chatting with her, I heard someone say, “Is it you that’s here to visit Susie Smith?” I said, “Yep, that’s me.” And I looked around and all I saw was a little girl staring up at me from what they call a “Lily Pad”, which is a little cart that has a place for a child to sit on while they zoom around courtesy of 4 wheels beneath it. It also has a poll going straight up so there’s a place for necessary meds to be hanging. I said, incredulously, “Are you Susie Smith?” She and her mom both nodded and I cracked up and said that the Susie Smith that I knew was 13 years old. I was temporarily stunned--two kids, same hospital, same name, and fighting the same disease. I instantly sat down on the floor though and introduced myself to this Susie. She and her mom had time…what’s a few minutes talking with someone when all you’ve got to look forward to at that moment is another day stuck in the hospital? So I started chatting with her and found out that she was 4 years old and that she thought my nickname, “Mooselips”, was funny. She then just blurted out, “I don’t have any hair.” I said, “I see that, but you’ve got a great big smile and I love your orange helmet!” She said, “Orange is my favorite color.” She then turned her head so I could see her ear and added, “My hearing aid is orange too.”
Those words seemed to echo in my mind, “…My hearing aid is orange too.”
After talking for a few minutes about the many wonderful things in the world that are orange, I exchanged a smile with Susie and said goodbye to her and her mom. As I stopped to ask a question at the front counter on my way out, Susie zoomed by, this time in her “Fred Flinstone” car which, fittingly, was orange. She said loudly, “Bye!” I waved and told her that she better not be talking on her cell phone when driving that thing. She just continued smiling and said, “I won’t!” and drove away.
A bit later, as I myself drove away from the hospital (I never did find the other Susie that day), I kept thinking about little Susie. She’s 4 years old, she has cancer, she’s lost her hair, and she already needs a hearing aid.
My heart goes out to her and her family and I hope she gets out of the hospital very soon. In the meantime, it’s comforting to know that she’s being taken care of by some of the most wonderful people on earth.
I went to Children’s Hospital to visit a friend from Camp Goodtimes. I knew she was going in for chemo so I thought I’d try to see her and her mom. I went to the regular spot in the hospital where I had visited her before and stopped to check in at the reception counter. I was told that she was there and was probably on a bike ride around the floor. That did sort of strike me as a little odd because Susie is 13 years old and perhaps a little big to be riding around through a hospital ward.
The nurse asked me to follow her back in towards the individual rooms. As I was walking back I saw one of the nurses that I know who volunteers at Camp Goodtimes, Lysen, also known as “Yahoo”, who is about one of the nicest people you would ever meet. While I was chatting with her, I heard someone say, “Is it you that’s here to visit Susie Smith?” I said, “Yep, that’s me.” And I looked around and all I saw was a little girl staring up at me from what they call a “Lily Pad”, which is a little cart that has a place for a child to sit on while they zoom around courtesy of 4 wheels beneath it. It also has a poll going straight up so there’s a place for necessary meds to be hanging. I said, incredulously, “Are you Susie Smith?” She and her mom both nodded and I cracked up and said that the Susie Smith that I knew was 13 years old. I was temporarily stunned--two kids, same hospital, same name, and fighting the same disease. I instantly sat down on the floor though and introduced myself to this Susie. She and her mom had time…what’s a few minutes talking with someone when all you’ve got to look forward to at that moment is another day stuck in the hospital? So I started chatting with her and found out that she was 4 years old and that she thought my nickname, “Mooselips”, was funny. She then just blurted out, “I don’t have any hair.” I said, “I see that, but you’ve got a great big smile and I love your orange helmet!” She said, “Orange is my favorite color.” She then turned her head so I could see her ear and added, “My hearing aid is orange too.”
Those words seemed to echo in my mind, “…My hearing aid is orange too.”
After talking for a few minutes about the many wonderful things in the world that are orange, I exchanged a smile with Susie and said goodbye to her and her mom. As I stopped to ask a question at the front counter on my way out, Susie zoomed by, this time in her “Fred Flinstone” car which, fittingly, was orange. She said loudly, “Bye!” I waved and told her that she better not be talking on her cell phone when driving that thing. She just continued smiling and said, “I won’t!” and drove away.
A bit later, as I myself drove away from the hospital (I never did find the other Susie that day), I kept thinking about little Susie. She’s 4 years old, she has cancer, she’s lost her hair, and she already needs a hearing aid.
My heart goes out to her and her family and I hope she gets out of the hospital very soon. In the meantime, it’s comforting to know that she’s being taken care of by some of the most wonderful people on earth.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
A Conversation with Karen Gerstenberger
I've been meaning to share this video for a long time. I made this so that the staff at Camp Goodtimes could have the opportunity to listen to a parent's perspective on sending their kids to camp. I have shared the video with our camp staff that last couple of summers and people have been very moved by Karen's sincerity and honesty. It was very emotional for her to open up like this and I so appreciate her willingness to share her story. It's about 20 minutes long so grab a cup of coffee and maybe a Kleenex or two and I think you will enjoy this.
We will continue to celebrate her daughter Katie's life every summer at camp.
http://www.vimeo.com/11279058
Katie, June 2007
We will continue to celebrate her daughter Katie's life every summer at camp.
http://www.vimeo.com/11279058
Katie, June 2007
Thursday, April 8, 2010
An amazing person
I've been really bad about posting on my blog as of late but life does indeed get very busy at times. However, lately in my random waking moments when I'm not consumed with the day to day I keep coming back to thoughts of my dear friend Puck from Camp Goodtimes (her real name is Cory, but I've known her for years and have never actually called her by her real name). Puck is one of the Camp Goodtimes docs who every year during her vacation time elects to volunteer at camp, hanging out with many of the same kids that she takes care of at Children's Hospital 40 hours a week at her regular job. That bears repeating...during her down time she goes to camp to take care of and play with many of the same kids that she treats at Children's Hospital.
There should be awards for people whose hearts are as big as a horse, for people who are just so filled up with awesomeness that it spills over to positively effect the lives of so many people.
I most recently saw Puck at the memorial service a few weeks ago for one of our campers, 12 year old Brandon, who had bravely fought brain tumors for almost 8 years. Puck was one of his docs and was very close to him. I picked out Puck from the overflow crowd at the church and I went to sit down next to her. I told her that I saw photos of her with Brandon that were lovingly placed near the guest book. We started talking and the topic came around to our volunteer work. She said that a number of people ask how we can do what we do when inevitably from time to time there is this tragic result of pediatric cancer. I responded that I felt that the human heart has an incredible capacity to love and that I just couldn't imagine NOT getting to know some of these wonderful children whose lives were cut short by cancer. I've learned so much from them and have enjoyed their company so much. I've felt privileged to be welcomed in to their families and have so enjoyed sharing their story in words and pictures with the world.
Puck and I kept talking along these lines for a while and then she really summed things up so beautifully when she said, "We're not doing these children any favors by not falling in love with them." And this comes from a woman who has spends all of her working life taking care of children battling cancer. She is so right. What bad could happen from opening your heart up for someone going through something terrible? Nothing that comes remotely close to what the person's family is going through or the patient is going through. But if you can add some joy and hope to someone's life?...then jump in, go for it, and soon you will realize that there's no other road that you would've wanted to take.
In 2007, one of our Camp Goodtimes staff members, Tara Clarke, known affectionately to hundreds of people as Twiga (Swahili for giraffe-Tara grew up in Africa), was very sick but none the less came to camp every day. On cruise day I made her sit down next to me as the boat approached pier 56. I said to her, "Can you fly?" She looked at me completely stunned...I continued, "How would you like it if in about 20 minutes from now you were flying over the boat in a parasail?" Her mouth fell open. She replied, "Uh, I don't know, but I'd like to try it!" Puck was sitting next to her. I directed a question at her, "Puck, will she physically be OK to go up?" She said, half flabbergasted, "I don't see why not." I said, "Good...because you're going up with her!" Puck immediately said, "NO WAY!" But Twiga countered with, "If I'm going, you're going!" How could Puck argue with that? Twiga knew that her cancer was incurable but she knew that every day was a new day, and it ain't over till its over.
Just 20 minutes later, on a beautiful summer day, with signal flags blowing in the breeze on the top of the Spirit of Seattle, a parachute appeared in the distance. As it got closer and closer, suddenly all 200 people on the boat realized that it was Puck and Twiga flying over Elliot Bay. With music blaring, people cheering, and our parasailors grinning from ear to ear and waving enthusiastically from the sky, a parachute flew right over the back of the boat. As it disappeared in the distance, I stood there in the wheelhouse, transfixed by one of the most beautiful moments that I had ever seen.
Less than 3 months later, Twiga passed away. But on that summer day, at that moment, on a tandem parasail and holding the hand of her doctor the entire time, Tara learned to fly.
Without the love and support of my dear friend Puck, that magic moment would never have happened. At Children's Hospital, minus the parachute, she is there for her patients every single day. She is a blessing to anyone and everyone that is lucky enough to know her. She has dedicated her life to children facing the toughest times imaginable. I am in awe of her.
Thanks Puck, and I'll look forward to seeing you at camp again this summer!
There should be awards for people whose hearts are as big as a horse, for people who are just so filled up with awesomeness that it spills over to positively effect the lives of so many people.
I most recently saw Puck at the memorial service a few weeks ago for one of our campers, 12 year old Brandon, who had bravely fought brain tumors for almost 8 years. Puck was one of his docs and was very close to him. I picked out Puck from the overflow crowd at the church and I went to sit down next to her. I told her that I saw photos of her with Brandon that were lovingly placed near the guest book. We started talking and the topic came around to our volunteer work. She said that a number of people ask how we can do what we do when inevitably from time to time there is this tragic result of pediatric cancer. I responded that I felt that the human heart has an incredible capacity to love and that I just couldn't imagine NOT getting to know some of these wonderful children whose lives were cut short by cancer. I've learned so much from them and have enjoyed their company so much. I've felt privileged to be welcomed in to their families and have so enjoyed sharing their story in words and pictures with the world.
Puck and I kept talking along these lines for a while and then she really summed things up so beautifully when she said, "We're not doing these children any favors by not falling in love with them." And this comes from a woman who has spends all of her working life taking care of children battling cancer. She is so right. What bad could happen from opening your heart up for someone going through something terrible? Nothing that comes remotely close to what the person's family is going through or the patient is going through. But if you can add some joy and hope to someone's life?...then jump in, go for it, and soon you will realize that there's no other road that you would've wanted to take.
In 2007, one of our Camp Goodtimes staff members, Tara Clarke, known affectionately to hundreds of people as Twiga (Swahili for giraffe-Tara grew up in Africa), was very sick but none the less came to camp every day. On cruise day I made her sit down next to me as the boat approached pier 56. I said to her, "Can you fly?" She looked at me completely stunned...I continued, "How would you like it if in about 20 minutes from now you were flying over the boat in a parasail?" Her mouth fell open. She replied, "Uh, I don't know, but I'd like to try it!" Puck was sitting next to her. I directed a question at her, "Puck, will she physically be OK to go up?" She said, half flabbergasted, "I don't see why not." I said, "Good...because you're going up with her!" Puck immediately said, "NO WAY!" But Twiga countered with, "If I'm going, you're going!" How could Puck argue with that? Twiga knew that her cancer was incurable but she knew that every day was a new day, and it ain't over till its over.
Just 20 minutes later, on a beautiful summer day, with signal flags blowing in the breeze on the top of the Spirit of Seattle, a parachute appeared in the distance. As it got closer and closer, suddenly all 200 people on the boat realized that it was Puck and Twiga flying over Elliot Bay. With music blaring, people cheering, and our parasailors grinning from ear to ear and waving enthusiastically from the sky, a parachute flew right over the back of the boat. As it disappeared in the distance, I stood there in the wheelhouse, transfixed by one of the most beautiful moments that I had ever seen.
Less than 3 months later, Twiga passed away. But on that summer day, at that moment, on a tandem parasail and holding the hand of her doctor the entire time, Tara learned to fly.
Without the love and support of my dear friend Puck, that magic moment would never have happened. At Children's Hospital, minus the parachute, she is there for her patients every single day. She is a blessing to anyone and everyone that is lucky enough to know her. She has dedicated her life to children facing the toughest times imaginable. I am in awe of her.
Thanks Puck, and I'll look forward to seeing you at camp again this summer!
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