It might be hard to see, but that's a picture of lots of little pictures of lots of friends and family holding letters that, when arranged correctly, spell HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAX.
That is what Jewels did for me on my birthday (after sending me through the library on a scavenger hunt that ultimately delivered me, ironically, back home to a book, where the stack of photos had hidden like a really thick bookmark).
This was a perfect gift, and I'll keep it for many years.
That's because I love and or admire these people. Getting this gift was like having my life flash before my eyes. So many of them have had such profound impacts on me during different stages of it. I'm so grateful to have known all of them, yet I so often take them for granted. I become consumed by the trivial, forgetting the significance of where I've been and those I've known.
I check my email more times than I think about that time one of the "Y's" bought me a hamper to replace the cardboard box I'd been using, or how "R" showed me unforgettable times at metal concerts.
Some days I think about what to have for dinner more than the time "X" and I played disc golf with trees as our goals like two carefree kids. Or how "T" spoke more eloquently than anyone I've ever met during TFA training, and really was the first person I heard articulate oppression before I became immersed in it.
How could I forget how one of the "A's" picked me up every morning at 5 a.m. to drive us to crew practice. He always had the car warm for me and never complained that my honey-drizzled bagel smelled so sweet it was distracting.
One of the "P's" gave birth to me on her birthday. Is there any larger sacrifice than giving birth to a child on your birthday, thereby relegating the one day that celebrates you to the periphery for 15-20 years? (P.S. Happy birthday, Momma.)
At first glance of one of the "H's", I remembered how he and I coached against each other last year. Even though my team got walloped, I remember enjoying most of that game because I was losing to such a stand-up guy. And I enjoyed sort of chatting with him throughout the game from across the scorer's table.
When I was a young kid, the "I" used to wear something like a medical monocle to see slivers or bee stingers stuck in my foot. He would use a combination of a needle and tweezers to get them out. And I loved him for it.
The night before I moved away from Oregon, one of the "Y's" cried right along with one of the "H's", and I'll never forget how much that moved me, how much I treasured it after I'd gone.
The other "P" taught the same kids I did, and he genuinely helped me to become a better teacher, whether that was by writing up on my board how his incentive program worked, sharing with me his thoughts on oppression and school politics, or betting me he could teach his class from the hallway longer than I could (he won).
The "B's" I actually have to apologize to. I never got around to saying a proper goodbye before I left Connecticut. All of that time was so rushed for me. But to one of you, I enjoyed every minute of rooming with you last summer, and Jewels and I couldn't have gotten home from Brooklyn without you after that day of climbing. To the other, now that I know what it's like to move for love, I know you are a brave woman and that your bond is real and beautiful and being rightly cherished.
The "M's" I've only met once, but I really liked them and thought they were sharp cats. They're also my girlfriend's parents, but honestly I genuinely liked them and I'm not just saying that because they're my girlfriend's parents.
To the "D", as a kid I looked forward to visiting your house more than anything in the world. Now, the articles you cut out and send to me are a reminder of how lucky I am to have such a thoughtful family.
To the "A", I still have every letter and note you've sent me, piled somewhat haphazardly but affectionately, in a drawer next to my bed. (As a side note, I spilled water late one night about six months ago, and it went all over one of your hand-drawn notes. The ink ran and merged and looks funky now, but I won't throw it away.)
Finally, that other "A" is Jewels's younger sister. I've yet to meet her but I'm sure she's a great gal.
Which brings me to the exclamation mark, which is not pictured but should be. Jewels is holding the exclamation mark. She arranged to have all these people send her pictures, and I think that's pretty damn great, and she's pretty damn great.
Thank you everybody.
That is what Jewels did for me on my birthday (after sending me through the library on a scavenger hunt that ultimately delivered me, ironically, back home to a book, where the stack of photos had hidden like a really thick bookmark).
This was a perfect gift, and I'll keep it for many years.
That's because I love and or admire these people. Getting this gift was like having my life flash before my eyes. So many of them have had such profound impacts on me during different stages of it. I'm so grateful to have known all of them, yet I so often take them for granted. I become consumed by the trivial, forgetting the significance of where I've been and those I've known.
I check my email more times than I think about that time one of the "Y's" bought me a hamper to replace the cardboard box I'd been using, or how "R" showed me unforgettable times at metal concerts.
Some days I think about what to have for dinner more than the time "X" and I played disc golf with trees as our goals like two carefree kids. Or how "T" spoke more eloquently than anyone I've ever met during TFA training, and really was the first person I heard articulate oppression before I became immersed in it.
How could I forget how one of the "A's" picked me up every morning at 5 a.m. to drive us to crew practice. He always had the car warm for me and never complained that my honey-drizzled bagel smelled so sweet it was distracting.
One of the "P's" gave birth to me on her birthday. Is there any larger sacrifice than giving birth to a child on your birthday, thereby relegating the one day that celebrates you to the periphery for 15-20 years? (P.S. Happy birthday, Momma.)
At first glance of one of the "H's", I remembered how he and I coached against each other last year. Even though my team got walloped, I remember enjoying most of that game because I was losing to such a stand-up guy. And I enjoyed sort of chatting with him throughout the game from across the scorer's table.
When I was a young kid, the "I" used to wear something like a medical monocle to see slivers or bee stingers stuck in my foot. He would use a combination of a needle and tweezers to get them out. And I loved him for it.
The night before I moved away from Oregon, one of the "Y's" cried right along with one of the "H's", and I'll never forget how much that moved me, how much I treasured it after I'd gone.
The other "P" taught the same kids I did, and he genuinely helped me to become a better teacher, whether that was by writing up on my board how his incentive program worked, sharing with me his thoughts on oppression and school politics, or betting me he could teach his class from the hallway longer than I could (he won).
The "B's" I actually have to apologize to. I never got around to saying a proper goodbye before I left Connecticut. All of that time was so rushed for me. But to one of you, I enjoyed every minute of rooming with you last summer, and Jewels and I couldn't have gotten home from Brooklyn without you after that day of climbing. To the other, now that I know what it's like to move for love, I know you are a brave woman and that your bond is real and beautiful and being rightly cherished.
The "M's" I've only met once, but I really liked them and thought they were sharp cats. They're also my girlfriend's parents, but honestly I genuinely liked them and I'm not just saying that because they're my girlfriend's parents.
To the "D", as a kid I looked forward to visiting your house more than anything in the world. Now, the articles you cut out and send to me are a reminder of how lucky I am to have such a thoughtful family.
To the "A", I still have every letter and note you've sent me, piled somewhat haphazardly but affectionately, in a drawer next to my bed. (As a side note, I spilled water late one night about six months ago, and it went all over one of your hand-drawn notes. The ink ran and merged and looks funky now, but I won't throw it away.)
Finally, that other "A" is Jewels's younger sister. I've yet to meet her but I'm sure she's a great gal.
Which brings me to the exclamation mark, which is not pictured but should be. Jewels is holding the exclamation mark. She arranged to have all these people send her pictures, and I think that's pretty damn great, and she's pretty damn great.
Thank you everybody.