We had a grand meal yesterday, and gave our thanks indeed. Not all of us were there at the beginning, for the Biscuit had been offered the chance to see the Rolling Stones (live, daddy!) in Los Angeles on Wednesday night and although Thanksgiving above all means family, it was the Stones for heaven’s sakes, and who knows how many more chances she will get? And anyway she made it home in time to munch upon the non-trivial supply of leftovers in the company of those who loved her, which you take it where you can get it with a daughter who’s fifteen and who knows what might happen next.
It’s a momen frozen in time, and if there’s one sure thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that the only way to make everyone really smile for a picture is to say something absurd or entirely out of character and then give them three seconds to realize why you did so. If you only give them one or two seconds, instead of smiles you see shocked faces, and if you give them more than four the smiles are already fading, which makes for a rather melancholy portrait. A happy picture then – a snapshot – the shutter opens, closes and the players are caught for a moment in time before they move on, clear the scene, continue to change and grow or fade in small but irreversible ways. These will be the same people for the rest of their lives, but they will never be entirely the same.
This is who we were in 1982, and it was the very last time that we would all be together – a fact that none of us assembled there could know but which was true nevertheless.
The man to the right left us less than a month later, while his broken-hearted bride tarried another four months or so before going on to join him. Hard times for a while, but they brought the rest of us close for the next 23 years or so until the pretty young thing at the bottom there, the one playing the fool for the camera – she was always playing the fool for a camera – took her own leave of us. And now of these seven that were, there are but four that remain, and time has had its way with the rest of us as well.
Life has a way of breaking out, and carrying on. Not long after the first bit of sadness relayed above had started (but well before it had come to its conclusion) there would be more happiness in store, and a way of fighting back against the dying of the light.
And then there were two, two who would not go down without a fight, and some ten years later, by the end of Thanksgiving weekend in 1992 at Trumbo Point Housing aboard NAS Key West, Florida, we sallied forth in our very best seasonal rigs (and a four-day growth of stubble for your humble scribe) in search of the moveable feast that was the officer’s mess of the 45th Fleet Adversary Squadron.
Two had become four. The gentleman on the left there, the one pugnaciously carrying his McDonald’s Happy Meal has now grown a fair bit taller, while the young lady staring with such fixed and terrible intensity at the other gentleman’s upheld hand (and the milk bottle contained therein) has but recently returned from a Rolling Stones concert in Los Angeles, California.
Hairstyles might have changed over the years, but the fundamentals did not – the deep magic continued and soon there were five:
Which tiny wonder now leaps thousand pound equines over three foot high cross-rails, and if you were to suggest that the many gray – let us be generous and call them silver – hairs which adhere to the skull of your correspondent are due in no small measure to pondering the potential consequences of that bit of knowledge, then who would I be to disagree with you?
But now the process of direct familial addition is complete, and any further gains must come through mergers and acquisitions, but while I’ve been around long enough to know that change is the one true constant, growth is not.
Every family portrait is a snapshot in time, an attempt to seize a moment of perfection and hold on to it. But time cannot be restrained, it runs on, runs on and eventually, for each of us runs out. Which seems a melancholy way to end this post, but it’s worthwhile knowing and sharing because we can never be entirely grateful for that which we take for granted.
And for my own part, I have so very much to be thankful for. Just look again at that top picture.
Happiness to you as well, gentle reader and hold on to it as best you might.
Thank you for sharing the family photos, Lex. That top one is a great Thanksgiving image.
As for the supposed grey hairs — do you look for them with a magnifying glass? You and grey are not in the same sentence yet. But when they do appear in abundance it is not a disaster, just a different season.
Health, joy, accomplishment, long life to all the Lex family.
Thank you for sharing, Lex. Happy Thanksgiving!
Wonderful pictures Lex. Thanks so much for sharing. You have a beautiful family and I love the continuity, well in reverse I guess but… they’re great.
I envy them a bit, your family I mean. I am sure they are thanksful for what a great husband and father they have – as you are for them.
I want to add my thanks, too, Lex. I’ve been wanting to see pictures of you and the family for a long, long time…it helps to associate faces with the characters you so brilliantly portray.
And a Memeorandum link, too! Your traffic will be off the charts today! Congrats!
What a lovely (photo) essay, Lex. It brought tears to my eyes, but I’m not sure why. Maybe because I understand tragic family constricting, and it is only in the last year that two “mergers and acquisitions” finally expanded our small band for the first time.
And as for Buck’s comment and the silver/gray issue… People, that dark photos lies. For there are certainly a plethora of very distinguished (dare I say “handsome?”
) silver hairs on that head that are absolutely unmistakable when encountered in person – much to the enjoyment of any onlooker of taste and discernment.
*running for the hills*
Thank you, Lex.
Just a wonderful American family — with a day to match.
Thanks for sharing, Lex. I felt myself aging as I read your post. You always manage to capture the essence of the day no matter what day it may be. BTW, mine are turning grey AND retreating. Grey’s not so bad if it stays put – one more thing to be thankful for! Have a great weekend.
You are a profoundly lucky man, Lex. I’m sure it was luck you had to work at, but what joyous work it must have been. The family that you helped craft is a testament to love and perserverance, and must be the icing on a great Naval career.
I’d say I envy you, but no, I have a good life, one I wouldn’t change for anything, and one that I say thanks for every day. Thank YOU sir, for sharing with us.
THANKS, Lex, and the best to you and yours!
Best wishes to you and yours Lex. And thank you for the pix, hmmm, Rolling Stones, horses, Midshipman, brick of the family (and beautiful too). And then there is Lex!
Thank you so much. The wedding picture is very beautiful.
A very Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours, Cap’n. Thank you for giving us a brief look into the personal side of life.
What a lovely and deeply personal post, Sir. We’ve been blessed with random photos of your family, but never “en famille” – how beautiful. And love the older pics as well – they are a moment in time and a blessing in every way possible.
As for this statement – “But time cannot be restrained, it runs on, runs on and eventually, for each of us runs out.”, my own tiny family’s motto may be of service to all: “We’re not here for a long time, we’re here for a good time.”
Serves as a vivid reminder of how precious our lives – separately and with each other – are and how important it is to enjoy them to the fullest extent possible. That motto is born out of deep sadness and a terrifying near miss on 9/11/01.
Love the ripped knees fashion statement of Mrs. Lex. And the baby bottle– that’s how I picture you raising a Guiness “for strength!”
Happy and merry and all that!
Lex,
If eyes are the windows to your soul, then words are surely pathways to your heart. You are a good man with a beautiful heart. Best to you all, fair winds and following seas.
“if there?
“if there’s one sure thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that the only way to make everyone really smile for a picture is to say something absurd or entirely out of character and then give them three seconds to realize why you did so…”
Those wonderful smiles make one wonder what was actually said.
I love the rhythm and tempo of family life through the years. Your photos are lovely, and I also remember the wonderful photo that you posted earlier this year of your homecoming back when you were a family of three.
I come from an enormous extended family and most of were able to gather yesterday and give thanks to God for our many blessings. My husband was not among us (alas) but he assures me that he did get turkey for dinner. I look forward to his homecoming more than I can say.
Hey Kris – ?
Hey Kris – “We’re not here for a long time, we’re here for a good time.” I love it, and I’m sorry, but I’m stealing it!
Lex, good looking family, shame about your wife’s poor eyesight. Thanks for sharing. It’s nice you let your daughter see the Stones. I saw them when they were old (back in 1981) and I’m glad I got to see them then before they were REALLY old. Kids – Give ‘em roots, give ‘em wings. Nice job.
Nose
So very much to be thankful for.
Thanks for the reminder, Lex.
Beautiful!
And you said Norman Rockwell’s spirit is passe. HA.
Lucky dog.
B2
Nose – it’s not stealing, I shared it so anyone could use it to their own purposes. My sister and her husband were scheduled to be on Flight 175 on 9/11/01. 2 weeks before their trip, they changed their plans on the recommendation of a coworker, so they could do something else on their trip…which altered their departure date by one day, to 9/12/01. They never went on that trip and my family was changed forever. And the family motto was born.
Use it in good health, Nose. My felicitations to your family in its use as well.
?
“We’re not here for a long time, we’re here for a good time.”
Isn’t that a ine from a Trooper song? I seem to remember my brother blasting it over and over on one of those little 45s.
At any rate, it is a great motto to have. So glad things worked out as they did for your family Kris. Some things must be divine intervention.
I’ve been wandering back to the first photo trying to figure out who the Biscuit resembles. I could swear she reminds me of a 70′s rocker whose name escapes me.
Where’s Chap when you need him….
Just wanted to add my $0.02. You have a lovely family, and it was a wonderfully written (as always) essay.
Michelle – who knows, you could be right about the saying. I just know that shortly after 9/11, my brother-in-law started saying it. And yes, we do believe divine intervention was in play, no doubt about it. Angels for certain – walking among us as well as unseen.
I think the Biscuit looks a little like a late 70s Pat Benatar – does that help Sim?
What a great post. Oh and sweet ‘stache, bro.
Kris -
That may well be the one. I didn’t impose myself upon the world till the 80′s so my knowledge is a little limited on the topic, did once see Blondie in full flight once, they ballsed up the count to midnight New Years eve ’97.
Which rocker?
Whoof. It’d have to be one of the better lookin’ ones, of course. Which makes such categorization difficult. Chap is therefore following the sage advice, learned from a shipmate’s painful experience when but both shipmate and Chap were but wee nonrated enlisted kids, to never call a captain’s underage daughters “hot” within the earshot of said senior officer. Chap will, however, aver that perhaps ’tis a good thing that Lex is an excellent shot, an equally good thing that the girls take after their mom, and better still that my progeny happens to be so young that such troubles are a long way off for us here in Nebraska!
That was indeed quite the Captain Morgan ‘stache. Rage on, sir, rage on.
I’m late to the party- still catching up over a very emotional holiday weekend.
Kris- I didn’t know that about your sister and her husband… how shocking that must have been when you all realized what could have happened.
Lex,
This post has special meaning to me this year. You must have been channeling my emotions without knowing it. This is the first time I’ve ever spent a holiday away from my children. The last thing I saw of them was Tuesday night, when my ex picked them up. Kevin cried hysterically… and so did I after he left. I retreated into myself, and stayed away from my own family until this weekend. When I re-emerged, I found out my brother had attempted suicide the day before Thanksgiving. I look at the picture of the the 5 of you at the top, and then the 1982 picture with your parents and siblings, and I wonder… I wonder when will be my last picture with “all” of us. I wonder when we will again see smiles like you all have in that top picture.
Anyway.
Like I said, I’m late to the party. Thank you for this post, Lex. It reminds me more than ever how fast things change. And not always for the good.
Good heavens, AFSis – I’m sorry your weekend was filled up with that kind of news. Here’s hoping for better days.
And don’t think about your “lasts” – think about your “nexts”. And hold on tight to the ones you love.
“And don?
“And don’t think about your “lasts” – think about your “nexts”. And hold on tight to the ones you love.”
Amen
I’m late too, but I appreciated the family pics – good-lookin’ bunch, Sir – and can identify very well with the post. I have lots of “lasts” in my photo albums and thankfully, enough “nexts” to keep us going.
Sim & Chap, maybe a young Linda Ronstadt?
AFSis, truly sorry for your troubles.