Sarah "Dewi" Caswell

When I was ten years old my life changed for the better.
My second mother Fran Caswell gave birth to the cutest little girl I have ever seen.  She loved me, and I loved her.  We should be blood sisters.  But what does blood prove? 
After Sarah was born I took her everywhere.  I am pretty sure she thought she was cool by hanging out with me - but to be honest - I was the cool one.  Sarah would come to my lacrosse and field hockey games, I would take her to the pool, shopping, to friends houses.  I even dressed her up as an M&M matching me one Halloween.  All of my friends knew Sarah, and she knew my friends.  It was great!

Sarah is now TWENTY years old!  TWENTY!!  She goes to Hamilton College, has a DECLARED MAJOR (which I don't 100% understand but am so proud of her!), and is the goalie for Hamilton's Lacrosse team.   Most importantly she is Max's Godmother.

Her birthday was May 2nd.  I had my 5th grade class call her and sing "Happy Birthday" to her.

Sarah is the best little sister EVER!

I love you Sarah.  Max and Will love you too.  Thanks for being in my life.  Thanks for making my life better.  Thanks for teaching me that love is unconditional.   You are THE BEST!

Happy Birthday Godmother Sarah!

 This is Max and Sarah at Thanksgiving!

Be Kind

I read this story today and had to share.  It made me tear up and think "Would I have done the same?"

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.

'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'

'Oh, you're such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive
through downtown?'

'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly..

'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice..'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired.Let's go now'.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse.

'Nothing,' I said

'You have to make a living,' she answered.

'There are other passengers,' I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.'

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

(Thank you Homestead Survival for this story)

What has Max been up to?

Max has been doing a lot this week - nothing monumental, but he just DOES a lot.  He is a fast crawler (future track runner?), loves to eat (and this comes as a surprise?), and is a HAM in front of the camera (again, surprised?).  Max seems to have grown up a lot in the last few weeks, he is talking a lot more, he is using his hands to communicate, and follows us around the condo. 
He is so cute!  I love my little man. 

 Max's new thing is that he says "Yum Yum" after eating pancakes. 

 This is his new pose.  I am not sure where he got it from.  But I think Elmo does it a lot.

Me and my little man.

Max and Mei

This is cute Mei and handsome Max.  Babies have their own language, and they totally understand each other.  These to cuties like to touch each others faces and squeal.

Sunny Provo

It is beautiful in Provo.
I love Spring and I am loving being outside.
On Saturday Morning I packed up Max in his jogging stroller and took him on a 7 mile hike up the mountains and up in the Provo hills, it was a great workout and fun for both of us.
*My jogger has speakers and I rock out to my "gym mix" music for the whole walk.  I am pretty sure that makes me a running nerd, but whatever.

Max also enjoys sitting out on the grass outside.  He flirts with all the pretty ladies that walk by and loves it when huge trucks speed pass him.

Growing Up

Max is growing up.
There are parts I hate about watching him grow, but then there are parts I love.
I hate that he isn't a baby anymore.  He is a crawling, standing, getting into everything little man.
I love how curious he is.
I hate that he can now topple over the trash cans.
I love how he follows me around the house.
I hate that he cries when I leave.
I love how he smiles and laughs at the wind, and cars going by on the street.
I hate that he is growing up, but I love watching him grow into the little person I know he can be.
He is the best.

Where's Max?