The One Where Dreams Come True...

It was spring semester of my sophomore year at FSU – circa 1997.  I was in the thick of my college experience; loathing group projects and exams; dreaming of what my life would be like if and when I graduated.  All important things at the time, but not-so-important in the grand scheme of life.  One thing that got me through the rigors of college was music on CDs.  But let’s be transparently honest here, there were some cassette tape action interspersed in between all of that CD listening.  I remember one summer in particular - jogging in the evenings, and often thinking about how incredibly cool I was.  Cool probably isn't the best term to use here because the oppressive heat and humidity that beholds Tallahassee is quite fierce and allows nothing to be "cool."  Maybe what's more apropos is "hot stuff."  Yeah...because by the time I finished tying my shoes outside, I was sweating already, but what set me apart was that I had a Walkman with a mix tape in tow – oh how the finer things in life have escaped through the cracks of aging. 

Back to the music...more specifically, “New Age” music.  I’m not referring to weirdo New Age religion; Wikipedia aptly describes “New Age” music as “a genre of music intended to create artistic inspiration, relaxation, and optimism.”  So the artistic inspiration part…yea, not so much.  The relaxation and optimism aspects of it were the more sought after qualities.  I’d listen to this stuff, especially Jim Brickman (America’s Romantic Piano Sensation), for what seemed like hours upon hours in hopes of doing better on my exams and class assignments.  But these well-intentioned studying habits would often devolve into me daydreaming about an eventual idyllic life of being married to an incredible and loving wife; and then eventually growing our family by having super cute and bright kids.  So here we are…about 20 years later, I still listen to this music, now albeit at work on most days, and on occasion, with Meilyn in the car with me trying to convince her that this type of music is beautiful and that she should appreciate it because after all, this is “America’s Romantic Piano Sensation” tickling the ivories.   

   

When Jim Brickman released his third album, “Picture This,” I rushed to Spec’s music to purchase a copy of the CD.  One song from the album was titled, “First Steps.”  I was enamored!  To the point where I thought I was going to make a killer family video one day with that song as a backdrop to reminisce about our awesome son or daughter.  Well…the overzealous idea birthed from the 20-year-old version of me is finally coming to fruition 20 years later.   

In 1997, I had illusions of me being this great guy – deserving of girlfriend and wanting to settle down after college.  The next 10 years proceeded to be a long sobering reminder of how imperfect I was and how much I was in need of a Savior who would turn my spiritual infancy, quick temper, and OCD ladened tendencies into redemptive qualities that would someday compliment someone else's walk with Christ (cue Amanda's entrance into my not-as-awesome-as-I-thought life).  So since then, life has been clearer and more purposeful with her by my side.  She has shown me aspects of Christ through her kindness, gentleness, calmness, and loving nature.  I’m forever grateful that she has invested the last two plus years of her life raising our baby girl into a thriving and healthy 2-year-old.  Our daughter is everything I dreamed my first child would be like and more.  Amanda, through her words and actions, reminds me every day to strive to be more like Christ, and to love our daughter more gently, patiently, and graciously.

There are many days interspersed throughout year, not just days leading up to Mother's Day, where I wish my mother was still alive to see our baby girl grow.  I would want her to tell me stories about how I was when I was Meilyn's age.  I would also want to hear her opinions and advice on how I could be a better husband and daddy.  I think about how she would interact with Meilyn; how they would make each other laugh; how they would learn and speak Chinese together; go clothes shopping; cook Chinese food; but above all, learn how to be a kind, sweet, and loving person.  All of my years growing up, I saw how she sacrificially gave of herself for my dad, brother, and me.  I see that sacrifice in how Meilyn and I are loved by Amanda.  All those years of wondering and hoping for a wife and family were just the "First Steps" of my dreams coming true.  

Happy Mother's Day to you, AmandaLyn.

~KH 

Had the pleasure of going to see a movie with Amanda and my in-laws yesterday. We went and saw "The Help." If you're reading this and haven't seen it yet, I would highly encourage you to do so. As my mother-in-law said, the story isn't just about the racial hardships that people had to face and deal with, but almost more about the human spirit and how we ought to be treating one another with kindness and dignity.

I'm ready for Fall to come knockin' on our door...aren't you?

~KH

The One With Charles' Harvest...

A summer morning dawns beyond the horizon. There's coolness seeping from the rising mist. The morning dew nourishes the undulating meadows. And the melodious sonnets sung by creatures here below resound into the soul of the weary. Laden with the burdens of the world no more, you rejoice forever in His promise.

For Charles

I had the tremendous honor and privilege of knowing my grandpa, Charles Romans. He was kind, caring, generous, quick-witted, humorous, and a man of God. His heart was full of gold. His love unwavering. His wisdom richer than any earthly treasure. There was one day where I got a chance to soak in those very riches. Amanda and I had traveled up to Albany for the weekend to see the family. While the rest of the family was inside the house, I took grandpa out on the porch and we rocked away as if we had known one another for years. He had a way of making you feel special...as if you were the more important person. But I knew better that day. I knew at that very moment that he was sharing bits and pieces of his legacy. . . or better yet, his life's harvest.

We talked about a myriad of things that summer afternoon. But it was his childhood memories that I remembered most. He told me about how he grew up on a farm and had to work really hard as a young boy. The little boy inside of me wanted to be a farmer that day. I don't know what it was about his farm life that piqued my interest, but to me it just seems like those who have had that experience are better people. It could be their work ethic and humble background that separates them from the average Joe. Now I don't know this to be true or not, but I assume he was part of some harvests on that farm. It doesn't really matter that they were big or small...plentiful or not. I want to believe that those seasons on the Romans farm taught him how to sow the seeds of life. They say that a harvest usually marks the end of growing season.

Grandpa, your work here on Earth is done. Your harvest is plentiful. I feel it in the warmth of Grandma Mae's hugs. I see it every day in Amanda's eyes. I feel it in Tonya's love for me. I soak it all in through Buddy's teachings. And I see it in Chad's generosity.

Thank you for the life you lived. Thank you for the love you gave. And thank you for letting us be a part of your harvest.

~George