New Mexico

Every year during spring break the high school youth group from my church heads off for a week of service and for the last five years I have had the great privilege to go with them. This year we went to a Navajo Indian reservation in New Mexico with 25 kids and 10 adults. It was a truly amazing week. One of the things I like best about it is I have to completely unplug from the grid. No Internet access for a full week is a great way to focus on the things that are truly important.

This year we ran into a long list of problems (engine blowing out in the box truck south of Barstow, temperatures in the 20s at night, one kid getting bit in the face by a pit bull, a sandstorm destroying our tents, etc.) It was very gratifying to see this group of young people respond to these problems with an amazing attitude and great flexibility. These problems could have beaten them down, but instead it brought the group closer together and they stayed focused on the reason they came - to serve other people.

We divided up into four work teams and my team went to the home of an older gentleman whose hot water heater burst on the same day he was at the hospital watching his wife of 35 years pass away. He didn't have the money to replace the floor so we did it for him. What a great sight it was to see a team of young people work so hard for this man they had never met before last week. One of the family members asked us where we were from, and when we told her she said, "Wow - I didn't expect you to be from Orange County. That's not the image I have of that place".

That's because she never met our youth group. They are an amazing group of young people and it was an honor to spend the week with them.

Yesterday

(This week my family went through a major transition as my daughter moved away to college. I wrote the following in response to the strange set of emotions this event has elicited in me. I promise I'll get back to the kinds of postings you expect from an emotionless geek after this brief indulgence.)

It seems like just yesterday, my little girl was shyly hiding behind my legs any time a stranger was near… Today she is a beautiful, confident and fiercely independent young woman.

Yesterday we dropped her off at college and drove away without her… Today she is beginning a grand new adventure without us – as it should be.

Yesterday I knew this day would come… Today I wished it hadn’t - yet it also feels strangely right.

Yesterday when she was a baby she would fall asleep with her head resting on my chest… Today she sleeps on a pillow hundreds of miles away – so why does my chest feel so heavy?

Yesterday she thought everything I said was true… Today she argues with me about politics (or anything) – and holds her own.

Yesterday my son was tormented by his older sister… Today he thinks being tormented sounds pretty good.

Yesterday it was my job to protect and manage… Today it is to advise (when asked).

Yesterday my daughter begged us to leave the big city we stopped in during a vacation because the homeless people frightened her… Today she is living in that same city.

Yesterday she was my little girl… Today, she still is. And she will be tomorrow.

Yesterday when she was a toddler she came up to me and handed me a rock, explaining that it was because she loves me… Today she tells me the same thing through a text message (but I still have the rock).

Yesterday it was hard to remember what it was like before I was a Dad… Today I’m wondering how the time went by so quickly.

Yesterday I thought there was nothing more important than being a good Dad... Today I understand even more why that’s true.

Yesterday I wished I had spent more time with her… Today it’s too late.

So how are you going to spend your time today… so you don’t regret it tomorrow?

Mexico 2008

Yesterday I returned from our youth group's annual house building trip to Mexico. I have written on this topic the last few years, so I won't go into all of the details (in the hopes that you will search the archives and read more). This year it was even more special because my son is now in high school so I had both my kids with me for the first time.

As in the past, it was an amazing and inspiring experience. I can't adequately describe how fulfilling it is to see young people so committed to changing the lives of people they have never met, and will never see again. They experienced 6 days of camping with no hot water, electricity, flush toilets or showers and experienced frigid temperatures at night. On top of that, they had to rise shortly after dawn, and work until dark to build a house in 4 days using only hand tools.

What an amazing group of young people! I'm honored to be associated with them.

Ralph Gaston

I’m an orphan now. My Dad passed away on November 8th. It was not entirely unexpected - he was 84 and in declining health, but it was, and still is, a major blow to me. I’ve wanted to write about him for over a week, but am only now able to do so.

My Dad never did anything to make himself famous. He didn’t run for public office or break any world records or record music or act in movies. He was a pharmaceutical salesman. He was as solid as a rock. He worked for the same company for over 30 years, lived in the house I grew up in for 34 years and was married to my Mom for 51 years until her death in January 2002. He was a World War II veteran. He loved to hike and backpack and fish in the Sierras. He had a jeep that he used to take us on adventures out in the desert. He had a great sense of humor and loved to laugh and to make others laugh.

My Dad loved the holidays – Christmas most of all. Our house was always the most decorated one on the street with a life size nativity scene and Santa and elves off to the side. All of them lit up by floodlights. He loved “A Christmas Carol” and when my brothers and I were little we would turn out all the lights in the house except the ones on the Christmas tree. We would lay on the floor and fall asleep to his deep voice reading us that classic tale.

My Dad was a family man. We never once doubted that we were the most important part of his life. He would be the first to tell you his greatest accomplishment was raising his four boys. We were his life and his career never came before us.

I remember my Dad as a somewhat stoic Mid-Westerner - he wasn’t one to wear his emotions on his sleeve. I saw a deeper side of him later in life as we grew closer and as he came to need us for help and assistance, but it turns out that he was a far more emotional man than I ever knew. My brother Mike was going through some boxes to find pictures for his memorial service and came across a small notebook labeled “Tender Moments”. Today we would call it a journal. My Dad recorded times in his life that were particularly poignant, virtually all of them having to do with my brothers and me. It turns out that my Dad was a man of deep emotion and some of his writings border on poetry. It was a wonderful gift to find and it’s difficult to read without getting choked up.

My brother Mike read one of the notations at my Dad’s memorial service. It noted that my Mom asked my two older brothers what they would remember about their Dad if he died. Steve responded quickly, “Well, that he loved us”. My Dad wrote the following over 40 years ago, “How else could I possibly ask to be remembered by my sons”.

Rest in peace, Dad. It is exactly how we remember you.

Steve Gaston

Today I am going to attend the memorial service for my brother Steve. He died last week one day after his 55th birthday, finally felled by the cruel effects of the Parkinson’s disease he fought so long with an inspiring level of grace and dignity. I have three older brothers and it seems so strange now to think that there are only three “Gaston Boys” around instead of four. My brother Dave and I going to deliver parts of the eulogy and my brother Mike, who is a pastor, will officiate at the service. Steve was the quietest among us and today it’s our turn to turn the spotlight on him.

It’s an impossible task to adequately summarize the life of anyone in a few short words, but I feel compelled to give you a glimpse of my brother, despite the futile task of reducing his life to a brief posting in a seldom read blog.

His life was marked by a series of obstacles. He almost died at birth and had to grapple with a number of neurological and physical ailments his entire life. He did so with his usual manner – quietly and patiently chipping away at the problem until he had it solved. To give you a sense of how he approached these series of obstacles, let me tell you of a conversation we had when I first learned of his Parkinson’s diagnosis. I asked him how he was doing and he said, “Other than learning I have an incurable brain disease, I’m doing OK”. Only Steve could have said that without a trace of irony or sarcasm. He had a new problem to solve and he set about it without a complaint.

Steve was the most helpful person I have ever known and he was always the first person to volunteer and the last person to leave. He derived great joy from helping others and had no desire to receive recognition for this work. The only complaint I heard him make about his disease was how it kept him from helping people – he was the one who now needed assistance and it tore him up inside. If you could have seen his rapidly deteriorating physical condition the last few years, you would have been amazed that this was his primary concern.

I suppose some might say that he didn’t ultimately overcome this last obstacle of his life, but I would disagree. Parkinson’s may have gradually chipped away at his body, but it never robbed him of his dignity or reduced him to self-pity. He may have lost the battle, but he won the war. Because of his faith I believe he is truly in a better place today - standing tall and straight again after years of being trapped in an increasingly constrained shell of a body. He joins my Mom in heaven and I’m sure he immediately set about seeing if there was anyone that needed a helping hand.

A Great Week

I got back yesterday with my daughter from our annual trip to Mexico with the high school youth group from my church. This was my third year and each time it is different, and each time it has been an amazing experience. I am never more tired, dirty and fulfilled then during this week. We camp in an area provided by the sponsor - Amor Ministries - but have no running water, electricity, flush toilets or showers. You can imagine what it is like to take 27 middle class kids out of the South Orange County bubble and expose them to what life is like for a majority of the world. If you based your imagination on the image of teenagers on television then you would imagine a nightmare. It was anything but. Every year I am impressed by the quality of these young people. They spent the time digging trenches and leveling ground and sawing wood and hammering nails and mixing cement and framing walls and applying stucco and playing with the neighborhood kids. They did it all with very little complaining and with a sense of purpose that was admirable. It was truly an honor to be working alongside with them.

We have two major goals - one is to build a house in 4 days using nothing but hand tools. The other is to let the family know that God loves them and we are there to provide tangible evidence of that love. I can only imagine what goes through the mind of the family to see three vans pull up, a group of noisy, boisterous teenagers pour out, and in a few days, transform their life. I can't think of a better way to spend a week and coming back to my regular job seems so trivial in comparison.

Bringing People Together

Every once in a while, something happens to people I know and love that puts life in perspective. This past week, Katie Holland, the 17 year old daughter of my good friend Dan Holland, was in a horrible accident while working on a horse ranch near their home in Montana. She lost her leg and is facing a long time of recovery - they have been told to expect a two month hospital stay. She was airlifted to a hospital in Seattle that has an excellent reputation for this kind of trauma. If you are the praying type, please pray for her and her entire family. As the parent of two kids, I can't imagine the ordeal this has been and they have a long road ahead of them.

A web site has been set up to keep people updated on her status:

www.caringbridge.org/visit/katieholland

It's a great example of how technology can be used effectively to bring people together during a time like this. The family doesn't have to relive the experience over and over again and get worn out by answering every call and email. Those of us who care about them can get the latest news on her status, and we get to read all of the wonderful comments that are being left by people all over the country.