One Lonely Stump

I come from a moderately large family, being the fourth of five children.  And both of my parents are still living and in good health.  And we are normally a pretty close family.  But at this very moment, of the seven of us, I am the only one in the country.

Sister number two has lived in Brazil for 12 years.  And on the occasion of her daughter's graduation from high school, my mother and sister #3 went to visit them and join in the celebration.  Sister #1 and her husband have jetted off to Italy for a vacation with some friends.  That leaves my brother and father, who are together on a fishing trip up in Canada somewhere north of Minnesota.

I guess the good news is that if America were suddenly wiped off the map, there would be plenty of Stumps left to carry on the family tree.  I guess the complimentary bad news would be that if every other place in the world except America were wiped out (as some eschatologies seem to suggest), the burden of representing this one branch of Stumps would fall to me alone.

Shrew Taming, etc.

The Stump family took a rather last minute trip to Chicago for the end of spring break.  Priceline got us a four-star hotel on Michigan Avenue for the price you'd usually pay for a Super 8 out along the interstate.  But unfortunately, it didn't get us enough beds for everyone.  Usually two of the boys double up and one on the floor, but this very fine hotel only had full size beds in the rooms.  So after a stirring speech, the eldest got the bed; the youngest pushed together two chairs and made a sort of nest; and the middle child was left on the floor.  The wife and I normally don't mind close quarters throughout the night, but in the company of our three teenage sons, even we enjoyed sleeping double in a (barely oversized) single bed less than we wished.

Every time we've gone to Chicago recently it has been absolutely gorgeous weather.  We started out at the planetarium where we bought a membership last time we came, because that was cheaper than paying full admission for all of us.  So it paid off this time by not having to pay anything to see a couple of the shows.  One of them was on the search for exo-planets, which is fascinating to me.  I made a prediction that is now witnessed by all (or both) of you: in my children's lifetimes, we'll discover life on other planets.  I'd be happy to debate the theological implications.  The other show was a 3D thing about all the space junk orbiting the planet.  I suspect that someone is going to make a lot of money in another generation by figuring out how to clean it up.

Then the boys and I walked to the Sears/Willis Tower, hoping to go up and try out the plexiglass walk out.  But being Easter weekend, there was a three hour wait.  So we hopped in a cab and got to the Hancock Tower really fast, compliments of our Moroccan cab driver.  Once there, however, we opted for a Jamba Juice snack and some window shopping in Watertower.  Then what has become a Stumpmen tradition, we wandered around Gold Coast Lambourghini taking pictures of the cars while the salespeople completely ignored our very existence.  Just down the street is a Giordano's pizza where mom met us for supper.

The next morning was Taming of the Shrew at the Shakespeare Theatre on Navy Pier.  Although politically incorrect and offensive at several levels, we had a very good time at it.  While on the pier, we made a mental note of a return trip in the summer for the Imax showing of The Dark Knight Rises (sans the wife/mom).  After seeing the play, we were feeling bold enough to plan such a male-only trip.  My wife, who--though spirited--is about as far from a shrew as you can get, was good enough to drive to and from Chi-town so I could spend the journey grading freshman critical thinking papers about evolution.

Good times.

Senior moments

So our son is a senior in high school.  I'm not sure if the phrase "senior moment" most appropriately applies to him, or to his aging parents.

His mother has gotten a bit choked up this year thinking about the last time Casey would run a cross country meet, or the last time we'll have spring break as a family, or the last time Casey will beat on his brother saying "I'm a senior and you're a little puny freshman" (OK, she doesn't really get choked up at that one).

Getting senior pictures done was another one of those moments.  The significant other of my nephew (she's practically family) is an aspiring photographer, and a very good one.  Find her Facebook page here.  These are a few of the shots, only slightly touched to bring out his natural beauty.

For the record, he does occasionally smile.

My Tribute to 50 Years of Marriage

A couple of days ago, my parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary.  My siblings and their families, and my parents siblings and spouses got together at a restaurant in Elkhart for nice dinner.  Mom and dad didn't want a big open house or a bunch of hoopla, but we had a very nice time.  We kids presented them with a couple of scrapbooks, and they asked me to give a little speech (since that is the sort of thing I do).  Here it is:

So the girls asked Ron and me to be the ones to stand up and say things today.  I guess it is the least we could do since they did about everything else for this event.  I suppose it is a blessing to have some girls who take responsibility in that respect.  I’m not sure if Cindy or I will have much of a 50^th anniversary celebration unless we have some daughters-in-law who will step up.  Ron got the beginning of this event and had to sing; I’m supposed to give a cute and touching speech of some sort here at the end.  Mom and dad, I’m sure your siblings here have a different perspective on your 50 years of marriage, and each of us kids, no doubt, would say something different about you.  But they asked the philosopher to talk, so that’s what you’ll get.  I hope I’m speaking for all of us.

I’ll tell you right up front that I doubt I’ll get through this little speech without getting a little weepy.  I’m not sure from which of you I inherited this trait, but whenever I talk in front of a group of people about something that means a lot to me, these wells of emotion rise up in what is otherwise a fairly stoic and even melancholy personality (I think we know which one of you that came from).  So if it makes any of you uncomfortable to see a middle-aged bald man cry, feel free to look away.

42 years ago today, the two of you sat waiting, on the eve of what I’m sure was the happiest day of your lives.  I can’t comment with much authority on those first 8 years of your marriage, and even the next few after that are a little fuzzy.  But from all I can tell, you’ve had a remarkable 50 years together.  You’re not perfect, and in the interest of fairness and balance, I toyed with the idea of taking some time here to let people air their grievances against you.  But I suppose this isn’t the time for that.  And with all seriousness, that would be a very short list compared to the blessings that you have been to all of us.

One of the things I’ve observed about your marriage, your life together, is that you have this gift that you tend to make the people around you better—not necessarily better than they are, but you have had a way of bringing out the best in them.  That may be the students you’ve taught in your classrooms, or staff you’ve worked with; people in your Sunday School class over the years and decades; your small group, your neighbors, and friends.  I don’t know how to describe this other than to say, things tend to go better when you’re around.  You’ve touched hundreds of people.  And since you wouldn’t let us throw you a big party and bring all those people to tell you so in person, we’ve compiled a scrap book with many of their messages and memories.  [Marci present scrap book #1.]

Secondly, without getting into the technical and salacious details, we five kids are most literally the fruit of your marriage and love for each other.  About any guy and girl can create a new life in a moment of passion, but we found ourselves coming to be in the midst of a family with two parents who loved and respected each other.  Again, you weren’t perfect, but one of the most valuable gifts you could give us was your love for each other, and a stable and godly marriage.  I know that I took that environment for granted for many years of my life, and was shocked to learn that not all families worked that way.  I hope we might have learned something from you in that regard, and that our kids might feel without a doubt that their parents love each deeply.

I think we’ve learned by now that pouring yourselves into your children is not always a reflexive relationship.  I think it is fair to say that the parents give more than they receive.  This is obviously the case on the financial side of things when your kids are still young.  But even as adults, you’ve been generous with finances to us beyond what we will ever pay back.  I remember one time during my graduate school years in Boston, talking to you on the phone about various woes, and then saying, “And to top it all off, our transmission went out this week.”  Dad, you said, “Don’t worry about that.  Any problem that can be fixed with money isn’t that big of a problem.”  Of course that’s true if you have money, and you knew we didn’t have any at the time, so you paid to get the transmission fixed.  I’m sure each of us has similar stories of how you’ve been generous without enabling unwise behavior, and without making us feel that we were your indentured servants.  I doubt that we’ll ever pay you back, but I hope to be able to do the same for my kids.

And then of course we kids have been the beneficiaries of your spiritual commitment.  Whether it was consistent times of family devotions, regular church attendance and a commitment to serve there, or even the music ministry of the Stump Family Singers, you inculcated habits in us that tend to become a way of life.  Mom, I remember one vacation Bible school in St. Louis when I was pretty young, and you encouraged me to memorize a bunch of Bible verses.  That became a habit that I’ve turned to over and over throughout my life.  And for all of us, you maintained the kind of spiritual environment in which it was the natural thing for us to embrace the faith that was obviously so important to you.

Again, we can’t pay you back for that.  We can only attempt to pass on your legacy by being the kind of parents to our children that you’ve been to us.  We hope that is reward enough, to see that your fruit has produced fruit of its own now, that bears some resemblance to you.  As a constant visual reminder of all this fruit, Cheri has put together another scrap book of all of us.  We hope you can see in these pictures tangible evidence of your faithfulness to each other, to us, and to God.

Today IS that day...

So I have these three boys--here posing at a Wal-Mart in Wisconsin during a recent vacation (yes, we vacation at Wal-Marts). Like most boys, they're pretty competitive and there is some Oedipal thing where they'd like to beat their dad. I talk a lot of smack with them, trying to demonstrate that their dad is tough and manly. One of my favorite lines is to paraphrase Aragon in Return of the King when he is rallying the troops before the black gate. We'll get wrestling together and I'll announce: "The day will come when you boys will be able to take your father. But that day is not this day!"

Truth be told, there are several events at which I can't keep up with my boys any more. I've given up trying in video games. The controllers have just become too complicated (my video game neuro-circuitry was formed on the Atari joystick). And in board games we play pretty straight-up with each other (Connor won Monopoly last night). I've held on to physical dominance, though. In wrestling, I can still take all three at once--but now it hurts my body pretty bad. Basketball in the driveway is getting closer, but the advantage still goes to the old guy.

Today, Casey (age 14.5) asked to go to the track and race me in a mile. He's in track right now and works very hard and diligently at running. But I've been running too. He broke 6 minutes for the first time this past week. I haven't run a mile all-out in quite some time, but have done some speed work as part of my runs. So I figured it was time to give him a shot. Well, it turns out that today is the day that junior beats senior. It was very windy at the track, and I kept pace for a six minute mile for the first two laps, but on the third, turning into the wind coming down the home stretch... I died (I thought literally so for a bit). He pulled ahead and stretched it out on the last lap to a 12 second victory.

Oh well, at least I still have chess.