Resonance

A quick update before we start talking about 'resonance'... First, check it out, in the web version of this blog there's a link to follow me and get an email every time I post something new. You should totally do that! Also, big thanks to you for reading this, because you are one of the people who have checked out the blog over 2000 times! I am humbled and grateful and hopeful that you find something interesting, entertaining, or enlightening. Thank you so much for reading my rambling! On with a thought or two about resonance... 

About 20 years ago, my buddy Richard and I attended a free guitar clinic hosted by a Salt Lake City guitar shop. The shop is called Acoustic Music, and it’s been there for over 40 years, serving Utah musicians with one of the best assortments of stringed instruments in the state. The guy leading the discussion was Dan Crary, one of our favorite bluegrass guitar pickers.

Dan was one of the flat-picking pioneers, bridging the gap between Doc Watson (a blind country boy who was one of the fastest pickers you ever heard, who was most active in the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s) and Tony Rice (who added jazzy chord voicings, syncopated soloing and spacy, floaty licks way up the neck, most active in the 70’s, 80’s, and early 90’s). There were a few other guys in there like Norman Blake and Clarence White, but Dan Crary was certainly one of the first handful to use a pick with an acoustic guitar and solo like a fiddle player.
 

I realize that I’ve lost 99% of you readers, who have no desire to hear about this stuff, but hang in there—we’ll get to something you’ll like!

Dan is an interesting guy, who has degrees in theology and philosophy… maybe the last guy you’d expect to be playing bluegrass for a living, especially if your impression of bluegrass pickers is somewhere between Hee Haw and Ernest P. Worrell (know what I mean, Vern?) But Dan is an engaging speaker, fantastic teacher, and his playing is precise and melodic. It was cool to spend a couple hours with him as he played for us and broke down a couple tunes, and discussed technique and his love for the acoustic guitar. Richard and I were in heaven!

 

It’s been a long time, but there are some poignant things I remember from that afternoon—a couple of which made permanent, lasting impact on me! First, I remember him talking about effective ‘practicing.’ This was of course about the guitar, but it has universal application. I may post about his tips another day.

My favorite part of the day was his sharing how he felt about playing the guitar, and his infectious love of music. I think the topic came up after someone asked him the question, ‘how can I get my kids to want to learn to play?’ His answer surprised me with its bluntness: ‘Don’t buy them crappy guitars.’ (Actually his answer was blunter than this, but that’s as descriptive as I’ll get in my family-friendly blog).

He went on to talk about a woman named Jacqueline du Pre, who upon hearing the sound of the cello on the radio as a four year old girl, told her mom, “I want one of those.” Her mother was a pianist, and began teaching young Jacqueline the basics of the instrument, on a real (though smaller scale) cello, and then enrolled her in a proper London conservatory at age 5. Jacqueline du Pre went on to become world famous, one of the most highly regarded cellists of all time, achieving the rare feat of mass popularity outside the world of classical music aficionados.

Dan talked about how he had a similar feeling upon hearing bluegrass music being played, and of his love of fiddle tunes and acoustic guitar. He talked about how this love of the tone and tempo and instrumentation of the music and instrument just created this desire to learn and do and experience more with it, ultimately driving him to help shape a whole new way of playing a familiar genre on a familiar instrument, in a way that had never been heard before.



Jacqueline du Pre

He spoke of the guitar and his gratitude and debt and appreciation for it in a hushed, reverent tone. It was clear his connection to the instrument was perhaps his most prized possession, if you can call it that. He just loved the guitar, and it sounds kind of weird, but he just loves loving to play too; there’s just such a deep well of joy and fulfillment and satisfaction and gratitude that it was infectious—in fact here I am sitting on a bus at the end of a long work day writing to you about it, some twenty years later.

I have thought, many, many times since, about what would have happened if four-year old Jackie’s mother just bought her a toy instrument, one from the 50’s British equivalent of Wal-Mart, something that made a sound nothing like the one that had captivated her. Or if her mum tried to steer her into another instrument. Or what if her mother didn’t listen at all, and didn’t give her daughter a chance to discover the beauty of this instrument, and the greatness inside her, awakened by the tone of a well-played, quality instrument? Would the world have ever heard of Jacqueline, or her music?

I’ve tried to give my kids access to real instruments, even a couple professional-quality ones. I often keep the nice ones out, so they can be played. My beloved Martin HD28 has more nicks and scratches than I can count, but it sure has been loved and played! I remember the first time it got a ding on its top, right where everyone can see it. I was mortified (this was during the late 90’s, and I’d spent close to $2000 on it). I’d had it maybe a couple weeks, and I think it happened when I was playing with the still-toddling Ethan. That feeling of terror soon gave way to relief—it had survived a good wallop, still played great, didn’t look like a museum artifact, and it was gonna get dented at some point! No sense worrying about it, right?

I love having discussions with friends and family (especially the kids) about music, literature, even TV, movies, sports and other slices of culture—pop culture or ‘real’ culture that I like—sharing new finds or old favorites that they come to love too. Kids can detect when we are sincere, can’t they? They also stink at feigning enthusiasm; in fact they just can’t do it. As a kid, my brothers and I called it playing the ‘I’m Happy Game.’ Pretending you like something so you don’t offend someone, when in reality you may not be too excited about the gift, suggestion, or food put in front of you for your enjoyment.

 

I like the word resonate. One of the Oxford Dictionary’s definitions of resonate is ‘evoke or suggest images, memories, and emotions.’ I can’t think of anything more exciting than seeing something resonate with someone—the eyes widening, the big flooding smile as they are stirred in an incredible way!

When something you love resonates with someone you love, it’s powerful, isn’t it? When you introduce them to something that means so much to you, it’s especially fulfilling. Different things have resonated with my kids. Ethan took to skateboarding so well, riding aggressively, like a man, even from a young age. How much fun do you think it was to see him go from doing basic stuff to tricks that I never even dreamed of doing? Even into my 40’s I’ve loved going to parks and riding with him; first to teach him and ultimately to be taught by him!

And I’ve written before about Liam’s talent on the guitar—he just smokes me! It is fun to see him and Ethan both respond to songs or artists I discovered a long time ago. And my girls… it is so fun to watch them get excited about things like our favorite shows, Granite Flats and American Ninja Warrior. Annelise, Corrinne, and I have been unable to get Darcie or the boys to watch them, but the girls and I NEVER miss an episode! In fact we have probably watched each episode of Granite Flats’ three seasons several times EACH, looking for little details we missed before, and also laughing at some of the silliness. But it’s a blast!




Kacy Catanzaro's Talent Resonates with my Daughters!

And sometimes when we watch American Ninja Warrior we will exercise during the three minute commercial breaks—an easy way to get 15 minutes’ worth of pushups, squats, jumping jacks and planks in! Seeing them respond to women like Kacy Catanzaro and the other athletes on ANW has inspired them to be more fit. We all marvel at Corrinne’s 11-year-old biceps and Annelise’s ability to kick in to high gear on the last couple hundred yards of a mile or two long run. What a joy to see them getting so strong and excited! And it was a blast to watch the final show with them last summer, while we chatted on the phone the entire time, me in Portland, them in Seattle, watching a couple hundred miles apart from each other.

This post has been like strolling down a long and winding road, hasn’t it? What, you ask, am I trying to say? A bunch of things! First of all, life is awesome isn’t it? So many good and great and magical things lovingly put here by God for us to enjoy and experience. I’m grateful for people like Dan Crary, and so many others who share their talents to create moments that resonate with me! I’m also grateful to have been able to share a few things that have resonated with others, truly energizing them and bringing them joy.

I’m also glad we have teachers and mentors like Dan, who gave me some practical tips about making the most of my meager talents (or at the very least my passion) for playing guitar, but especially for his sharing the fire and passion that was truly inspiring to see and feel firsthand. So many things learned from so many people, I couldn’t begin to list them all! Who has taught you something that stuck with you for a year, a decade, or even a lifetime?

And also, I’m wondering, what resonates with you? What moments and creations have meant so much to you that you’ve treasured and shared your enthusiasm with others, igniting a new passion or appreciation in them? You just never know when something new will resonate with you, opening your eyes, lifting your spirits, unearthing your talents, and setting you on a new journey! Anything I’ve got to check out? Post a comment, send me an email, or better yet, give me a call!

Liam (Part 4-- Coming Home)

The Day Before Coming Home

A week is a long time to spend in the hospital for any reason. Spending it watching your son recover from neurosurgery takes you through every emotion, wearing you out physically too. For the most part, Darcie and I took turns staying with Liam, alternating overnight shifts. In the afternoons, the rest of the family would come and hang out at the hospital, mostly watching Liam sleep and try to rest. We played a game or two with him, but typically I would walk around the halls and grounds with the girls in little shifts, to keep the noise in the room down, to show them interesting little things I had discovered around the hospital, and to just get a little break and stretch my legs. This gave Darcie and my mother-in-law Louise a chance to quietly rest with Liam.

The first couple days after the operation were difficult. The pain and swelling increased. He had looked so amazing coming right out of surgery! His eyes were totally symmetrical, the incision was super clean, hardly noticeable. But within a day his eye had swollen completely shut—he looked like Rocky Balboa, or my brothers Rusty and Tim, when they had trick-or-treated about thirty five years earlier as ‘Rocky’ and ‘Rocky II.’ The doctor said it was to be expected, but it was still a shock.



Trying to Rest

It was a few days before Liam could even sit up. Through day six, he was being checked at least two or three times an hour, with the nurses making sure his lumbar drain was not letting out too much or too little fluid. This meant he constantly rested, but didn’t get much real sleep, with people in and out of the room continuously, and his needing to lean over so his back could be inspected at least hourly. He had a constant stream of tears coming out of that left eye—due to all the irritation from reconstructing his orbit, with the skin around his eye being stretched due to the subsequent swelling. Dabbing at his eye made the skin around it red and irritated, and he had constant headaches, but he continued to soldier on, never complaining.



While I hung out with Liam in the hospital, there were moments that hit me hard, filling me with dread, bordering on panic. The first was at maybe day five, when the occupational and physical therapists were working with him. This would have been the second day he tried to walk, with the therapists helping him stay steady as he walked, and me dragging all the stuff he was hooked up to behind the three of them. I knew he would be wobbly, after laying down for the better part of a week, having all that work done around his brain, and the constant tweaking of the pressure of the cerebrospinal fluid. I could not have known just how wobbly he'd be.

As he shuffled down the halls of the tenth floor, he was also supposed to look for post-it notes that were stuck to the walls. This multi-tasking would help him improve his cognitive abilities, which were really sapped from the surgery. It was a strange sensation to see him walk right by a note, missing at something he could easily have done at age two or three. After collecting all seven post-it notes, he would then try to arrange them to form a word (they each had a letter on them). It was really distressing to watch him struggle through the process, needing clues and hints until he finally got it. The word was ‘Tuesday,’ and it took a lot of help before he was able to get it.

With Darcie and Grandma Louise

They encouraged us to play games with him, to sharpen his mind and keep him progressing. We played trivia type games, and he aced those—he could answer questions and his long term memory was sharp. However, when we did things that involved short-term memory and working out simple problems, he didn’t do so well. It also really tired him, just wearing him out.

The therapists brought us a memory game—a deck of cards with about 30 pairs of different images that you turn over and mix up, then take turns choosing two, trying to find matches. It was made up of Shrek characters and images, and I thought I’d make it easy and we’d start with just 16 cards—four rows of four. I quickly saw that it was just too tough for him, as he was still pretty fuzzy with short-term cognitive stuff. I dropped it down to eight cards, then six, and finally four. Seeing him struggle to remember which two of four cards matched, only a second after I turned them over, was really heart-wrenching. I worried and wondered if he would have long term effects to his cognitive ability. Another challenging moment for me, with so much uncertainty, and a feeling of total helplessness.

But it was hard to be too down, watching all of the amazing things going on around me in room 23 on floor ‘10 North’. As I’ve mentioned, Liam was just a great little trooper. In spite of losing 14 lbs, having no appetite, and enduring serious bouts of really violent nausea and headaches, he didn’t complain. He was almost too polite to the nurses and doctors; we had to remind him to be sure to tell us if he was in pain, and not just say ‘I’m doing okay.’ Also, the tireless support and caring of Darcie was awesome to see, as she continually bounced between responsibilities at home and at the hospital. At least I got the week off of work!



It was wonderful to have so much of our family offering to come out and help however needed. Louise helped with so much cooking and laundry and cleaning and hanging out with Darcie and the kids! She assisted in ways I can’t describe; so much support for us when we perhaps were just to drained to think much about anything. It was a real blessing to have her around. We also received a few nice little surprise cards, notes and gifts from family and friends all over North America.




Doernbecher Children’s Hospital and everyone there also really helped us all stay positive and optimistic. I’ve talked about the setting and facility before—it is just beautifully built on the hillsides overlooking the South Waterfront area of downtown Portland. Because it rained most of the time we were there, I didn’t get outside much, except to get back and forth from the car when leaving or arriving. However, we did get to walk around the grounds a bit one afternoon when the weather was pretty mild—it is green and peaceful and just feels serene and ‘alive,’ a great atmosphere for a hospital.



Annelise and Corrinne

There are beautiful statues around the grounds, a big torch in front with an ‘eternal flame’ burning, and just really neat artistic and aesthetically pleasing touches throughout the buildings. As you enter the lobby of the hospital, there are dozens of painted wooden birds suspended from the ceiling; they are really interesting and you could study them for hours, with so many uniquely painted birds. There are captivating sculptures and murals and art pieces throughout as well, just really cool, particularly considering how many kids come in and out of the hospital, and the little touches that make it more pleasing to them (and their visitors!)




Annelise and Corrinne

On the fifth day Liam was there, the hospital staff told us they played ‘Bingo’ each week, with the game played on a lower floor, and kids all over the hospital watching and playing over the TV. When a kid wins, he calls the Bingo people downstairs over the phone, gives their name and the good news, is acknowledged on TV, and is promised a prize later in the day when the prize cart comes around. They played two games that Tuesday. Liam got a Bingo on the very last number drawn of the first game, and was the first to get a Bingo on the second game. A couple hours later, the prize cart came by and Liam picked out a board game and a copy of ‘The Princess Bride’ on Blu-ray!

The most impressive thing about the hospital, however, is the people. From the cafeteria to the pharmacy to the OR to the administrative and receptionist areas, the occupational and physical therapists, everyone was just fantastic. In particular, Liam’s nurses in the Neurosurgery wing (10 North) were literally amazing in every way.

Rianna was Liam’s nurse during the day for almost the entire time we were there (all but two days). She was totally attentive, and never made it seem like she was rushed or had other patients to tend to, even though she certainly did have other patients. Additionally, she was the charge nurse, essentially the boss, and the hospital was full for much of the time Liam was there. She was the most amazing caregiver, supporter, and advocate for Liam and our family, just completely perfect, especially considering all her other responsibilities.

On the two days that Rianna had off, Megan was Liam’s nurse, giving the same attention and care that we had been getting from Rianna. Megan was perhaps a bit softer-spoken than Rianna, but was every bit as attentive and precise and caring as Rianna was. Darcie kept telling her she looked like Anne of Green Gables. I’m not sure who that is, apparently it’s a girl thing, but anyway, she was just wonderful too.



Main Lobby at Doernbecher's

Our nurse every night was Laura. (What a nice situation, to have pretty much the same nurses there the whole time). Laura never came into our room without a smile on her face. Even her voice was smiley. I could not shake the feeling that I know her from somewhere, she was so friendly and familiar. I think Darcie slept less than I did at night, so she got to know everyone a bit better (plus, you know, Darcie was blessed with gifts of empathy and gab that I just was not given). Through her late-night conversations, she learned Laura was also a Mormon. Maybe that explained the sense that I knew her, but she is from North Carolina, and we couldn’t identify any paths that may have previously crossed.



All three of those nurses, plus the handful who did pop in from time to time when our regular nurses were on breaks, were all just incredible; we couldn’t have asked for better care. In fact, starting with the family doctor who Liam first visited almost two months ago, everyone we have dealt with has been wonderful. I cannot say for certainty we would have gotten lesser quality care had we stayed in Seattle, but I can say I can’t imagine our care being any better. It was all a string of so many blessings, with people doing their best to make our situation better in every way they could.



The Girls with Grandma Louise

The week Darcie and I spent with Liam and our family there is unforgettable. Watching him lose 14 lbs., watching him go from being able to eat nothing for several days, to a saltine or two, to a cookie and finally chicken strips the day before he went home... Seeing him go from laying down, to barely being able to sit up after a few days, to a short walk of a few steps that just wiped him out for the day… Watching him go from constantly sleeping and needing almost complete silence, to struggling to remember three simple words for a couple minutes, and finally being able to pick up his electric guitar, watching his eyes light up as he impressed the nurses with his chops. It was a whole lot of hardly any change, with the occasional little glimmer of improvement. It was a long week.



Today, seventeen days after Liam had his nine-and-a-half hour surgery, he is doing remarkably well. This morning, he got the stitches removed from his lumbar drain incision. Tomorrow, he’s got an appointment with the physical therapist, which we expect should go well. Liam is sitting up just fine, walking around the house, listening to music, and playing guitar and video games. Walking around outside tires him out a bit, but he is doing better and better each day.

This week is spring break, which is timed pretty well; he should be ready for school work and some more strenuous stuff by the end of the week. He is itching to do some hiking, and we might do a little walking on an easy paved trail this week. He’s also wanting to go play some guitar downtown, to see how much money he can raise for the Playstation 4 he is saving up for. It’s great to see him back home, being himself again, even if he is pretty tired, and still needing to take medication for the occasional headaches and his swelling.

Liam's Cousins in Utah

That week in the hospital, I got a lot of quiet time, giving me the chance to read, do a little writing, and lots of thinking and praying. I read a book called “The Faith of a Scientist” which was incredibly enlightening. It was written by Henry B. Eyring, father of a current General Authority of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It is a great read, and was so fitting to our situation, helping me see how scientific understanding goes hand in hand with religious faith and learning; how themes like evolution co-exist with the nature of a Creator. The book was written 50 years ago, but it reads like cutting edge insight published in our day.

I also picked up a $3 book of great American poetry at the hospital gift shop—what a find! It had selections from dozens of American authors and poets, lots of favorites by familiar names, and many whom I had never read or studied before. One new favorite is by Walt Whitman:



Miracles

Coming Home

Why, who makes much of a miracle?
As to me I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water,
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night
with any one I love,
Or sit at table at dinner with the rest,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon,
Or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet
and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring;
These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,
The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.

To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same,
Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.
To me the sea is a continual miracle,
The fishes that swim--the rocks--the motion of the waves--the
ships with men in them,
What stranger miracles are there?

Resting, Home at Last!

For obvious (and maybe not-so-obvious) reasons, this really resonated with me. There have been so many little miracles along this whole journey, from our fortunate choices of doctors and nurses, to the kind words and gifts sent by friends and family. Miracles of technology and timing and answered prayers and priesthood blessings. Miraculous feelings of comfort and peace of mind, given by the Grace and Light from God, and the Atonement of His Son.

We hope to see Liam being able to do everything he wants to do within the next month or two—another miracle. Like Walt Whitman, just about all I see are miracles! Thanks to everyone who helped us, through good thoughts, prayers, and acts of kindness, love and friendship. We’ll keep you posted on the real miracles-- and adventures-- yet to come!

To see how Liam's doing today, click here.