Dunham Family and My Stroke Story!

Today, I took my son to school knowing I was leaving him to get on an airplane for yet another meeting out of town. Granted, it's only an overnight trip to Portland, OR; however, I was gone for two nights last week and one night earlier this week. Over the weekend he admonished me that I need to get a different job such as a "mechanic because they know how to do cool things, make lots of money, and don't have to travel." It is heart breaking enough to leave my family even for short periods, but it's been even more difficult as our son matures enough to think about time. And he is getting older by the minute it seems from First Grade to losing teeth to learning to read. But, as he gets older, all the evils of the world descend into my psyche. Today, when I left him at school, he walked toward the gate, turned, and waved goodbye. I could see the love in his face. I hoped he didn't see the tears and fears in mine. "Fears" because like parents throughout

Little Ethan Dunham has entered his second week of parochial school filled with the inspirational sweet spirit of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.  He is excited about the structure. He loves wearing uniforms. He relishes the opportunity to wear socks everyday. He looks forward to tucking in his shirt. And Mass! Wow! It is uplifting and engaging. He rushes home every day to assure his pagan parents that we are well on our way to damnation as he sets the table in anticipation of leading us in the blessing.  He is overjoyed each morning to awaken – early -- with the knowledge that he has a full day of learning ahead of him. And the fact that he doesn’t know any of the other children in the class (all of whom but one went to Sacred Heart last year for Kindergarten so have their established groups) is not a downer for him at all as he looks forward to the challenge of making new friends at the same time he is adjusting to a different school, a new routine, learning Catholic l

We all go through life interacting with people. We have family, we have acquaintances, we have professional relationships, and we have friends. I've been blessed in my life to have a lot of friends and even more acquaintances. I suspect that many of the people I consider to be acquaintances consider me to be a friend. I don't mean to sound ungrateful or snobbish, but the term "friend" is pretty sacred to me. I've had things happen to me throughout my life that lead me to value a "friend" at an exclusive level. Richard Bach in his book "Illusions" noted that ""Your friends will know you better in the first minute you meet than your acquaintances will know you in a thousand years." I can count my true friends on my two hands yet I bet I have a thousand acquaintances. My wife and I have a standing bet that I owe her $15.00 every time I know someone when we are out of town. I should clarify: "Out of State." She s

My family moved to Twin Falls, Idaho in August, 1964, and we moved into a house on Falls Avenue East. We were one of six brick houses, and, in those days, we were pretty isolated...surrounded by farmers, fields, and nothing between our back yard and the Snake River Canyon. We left that house in the Winter of 1969 when my parents divorced, so I lived there from three years old until I was eight years old. I have some great memories of the place but also some unpleasant ones as the deterioriation of my parents' marriage is inextricably entwined with that home. The other day, about 41 years after I last set foot in the place, my mother arranged for me to visit the house. I did so out of curiosity, and it was surreal. Of course, it was MUCH smaller than I remembered. Even now looking at old faded photos taken in the house, it seems bigger than it did when I walked in last weekend. The other thing that struck me is how much had NOT changed. When I buy a house, I have alway

At 7:55 a.m., on January 27, 2005, our son Ethan Stanford Dunham was born. He was born yelling, crying, and peeing! We didn't know if we were having a boy or a girl, but his mother not-so-secretly just assumed "critter" (as we called the unborn hiccuper ) would be a girl. After all , Heather is "#5" in a group of 7 sisters. When Ethan first emerged, the doctor said, "It's a boy!" Heather retorted in a rather plaintive voice, "A boy? Are you sure? It was supposed to be a girl." I was more worried about 10 fingers and 10 toes to worry about that other appendage! Ethan would have weighed 9 pounds had he not decided to pee upon his birth. When we woke him this morning by signing "Happy Birthday, he jumped up yelling "Red Alert! Red Alert!" which is his usual urgent announcement that he has to go to the bathroom. There was no such warning 6 years ago this morning. After he was born, I cut the cord, and marvelled at th

I've spent too much time away from my blog, and I feared that would happen with the advent of Facebook. Our son turns 6 this week, and we've been busy with him during this first year of school. Kindergarten has been OK, but he misses preschool! "I got to do a lot more fun stuff there. Now they just make us work." Since my last posting in September, here are some random "Ethanisims" from recent Facebook postings as well as references to the burglary at our house in early December: January 23, 2011: Our son Ethan's 6th Birthday Party is today. He just told me that he's on his way to 7. January 17, 2011: A particularly sappy Celine Dion song blasted from the car radio yesterday when I turned on the ignition causing our soon to be 6 year old son to yell "Oh COME on Dad. Turn that off and put on some real music!" I am so proud. December 31, 2010: Ethan wanted a Mohawk for New Years Eve. Stylin' December 25, 2010: ‎2:4