ten years

Families are made of flesh and blood and personalities and shared experiences and history and every emotion on the spectrum. We are born into families. We are adopted into families. Seventeen years ago, after pledging vows and having a party with a meticulously curated soundtrack, MJ and I adopted each other's family as our own. We also made the decision to be partners in building a family that would be uniquely ours. We had no idea what kind of journey we were in for. Seventeen years later, we are every day trying and stumbling and occasionally succeeding in our roles as mother and father to our young daughter and son. Every family story is different. Every family story has wrinkles. Just like every family, our story has scars that forever remind us of how we got here, of how we became us.

In June of 2007, after two previous miscarriages, we started the painful process of saying goodbye to three babies who MJ formed and carried in her body for nineteen weeks. Our dreams of being parents had once again been dashed to pieces as we spent a full week in the hospital holding these little ones in our arms before too quickly having to let go. We named our babies. We let our imaginations run wild wondering what they would have been like. We mourned their loss and invited others to join us as we grieved. We hid from the world for a season. We wondered if we would be hopelessly childless for the rest of our lives. Whatever the future held, these three babies had made their mark on us forever. 

From very early on we have shared with our kids the story of the brother and sisters that came before them. We have a box of memories and books that we look through as a family, and we celebrate their memory every year on June 26th and 29th. This June, after ten years, we finally scattered the ashes of our little ones. It was a difficult decision that we could never quite make until this year. Together, our family decided that we would baptize the town where we have decided to put down roots. On June 26th, 2017, our little family of four had a quiet picnic on the lawn outside the community center. We released balloons carrying personal notes from our family that were marked with our triplets' tiny footprints. We circled up in the creek that runs through our town and gave thanks for their lives before finally letting go of their remains.

Ten years...

We carry the memory of Nathaniel David, Lily Constance, and Hannah Jane in our hearts and minds and souls forever.

my ally

This week, we celebrate sixty five youthful years of a son, brother, friend, teacher, father, mentor, grandfather, hero. 

I've forever admired my dad for so many reasons. We are incredibly different human beings and yet I consider him to be one of my closest allies. When he didn't know what else to do with me, he loved me. We've grown together. He makes me feel like he's my biggest fan and I hope that he knows that I am his. There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not grateful for his presence in my life. 

He held my ankle when I first learned to ride an incredibly still horse.

Together we crept through a sea of white people in incredibly tight short shorts...

And laughed at our fortune when we successfully made it out unscathed.

We once celebrated his birthday with a chocolate Garfield cake and I missed my chance to photograph him. Enduring one of my mild temper tantrums, he kept as cool, calm, and collected as anyone could expect while continuing to pose when I retrieved my camera.

Always a class act.

Let's cleanse the pallet with this adorable snapshot of the two of us passed out after an intense episode of M*A*S*H (I can only assume).

If there was ever any doubt about the man's style, one need look no further than this.

Here's to you, Dad!

happy thanks, y'all

Celebrating with family the Rockey family during the holidays has always been a daylong event brimming with a whole lot of food, a whole lot of people, a whole lot of noise, a whole lot of laughing. This thanksgiving, we sat around an amazing meal with grandparents and great grandparents at the home in which i spent my high school days. We heard my grandfather tell stories that my dad had never even heard before. We added a new moniker to his already long list of nicknames: Grampa Junie. It was such a quiet, joyous affair that eventually turned into creative wonderland. 

Just when it looked as though the evening would be drawing to a close, we were joined by my uncle Conrad, cousin Becca and some new friends who immediately found themselves lending voices to a surprise recording session taking place in the family room. After warming up our guests with a sing-along, i passed the baton to Olivia Jane who passed out paper and crayons to everyone and invited us all to make drawings.

Here's one of Olivia's incredible drawings paired with a lyric sheet that she requested of me.

My contribution to the collection of drawings. Old friends being thankful.

Olivia's great grandfather delighted us all with his masterful rendering of a horse.

Olivia then had everyone who contributed drawings (and vocals, by the way) sign this cover sheet for the collection. We continued to laugh and eat chocolate-covered delicacies while dreaming up nativity-inspired colors for an idea-pitch to Crayola. Possible crayon colors include "soft manger", "star of bethlehem", "donkey grey", "gold", "virgin white" and "becca's favorite".  It's difficult to imagine that this idea won't make millions of somethings.

Holiday traditions have come and gone over the years, but i'm thankful for children who inspire me and invite their family to create colorful memories together.

Goodnight, Harvest Moon.

After nine and a half years of transforming a less-than-exciting house into a home, we've said goodbye to harvest moon drive. After a weekend of moving our earthly belongings two miles north to our new home, we returned one last time to say our goodbyes. Things got ridiculously emotional as baby jane sobbed on the floor of her empty bedroom mourning the loss of her window. The tears spread like wildfire, y'all. We've now been in our new home for a full week and things have been equally weird and wonderful. Our neighbors are fantastic beautiful people. Our house is in need of a few dump trucks of love.

More to come. Until then, let us take a moment to reminisce all the precious moments shared in the house on harvest moon.

Family = A Big

Neighborz 4 lyfe

About ten years ago, MJ and i had a household's worth of stuff packed up in various places whilst living with a kindly family who welcomed us into their home for a couple of months. Occasionally, we would ride the rails and eat beans from a can. I became quite skilled on the blues harp as the two of us would dance outside small cafes and dive bars whistling for pennies. The judgmental ogling of the passersby effected us not; we had a song in our hearts what needed to be sung. Time wore on as time will often do and we finally settled into the house on Harvest Moon - nestled in sunny Summerfield Village - that would serve as our home for the next near decade. 

About a year after our move, the allure of vacant strip malls, struggling mexican restaurants, and the ever present aroma of deep fried cod would bring our newlywed pals, the Hymans, to a new home just down the street in our lively neighborhood. Over the course of those next nine years, we would share many meals; make new friends; watch neighbors come and go; watch their houses become rental properties; celebrate the births of children; mourn the loss of children; house family members for extended periods of time; drink a whole lot of coffee; edit VBS videos; plan retreats and vacations; rant about the state of CGPC; talk about Jesus and the bible and tapeworms; watch Lost; eat kebobs and white chicken chili and pizza; fall asleep with bellies full of cantaloupe smoothie while Dirty Rotten Scoundrels played in Spanish; watch our sons and daughters become friends and go to school together and hit one another with pvc pipes; sell lots of junk for hundreds of dollars year after year; and support one another as we made tough decisions and hard transitions in jobs, family and life in general. 

Through all of it, our friendship has remained in tact as we've shared life together.

Nine years later, just a couple weeks apart, our homes in picturesque Summerfield Village have both been sold by a realtor who gets shit done. And while our families are respectively excited about the possibilities of where we will make our homes next, it's all rather bittersweet when we realize that we'll not be living just a few doors down from each other very soon. 

As i write this, neither MJ and myself nor our friends the Hymans have closed on a new home. We've been helping one another pack and move and clean - along with a few other friends who have also caught the moving bug - trying not to think too much about the distance that will find itself between us. We should all be so lucky to find neighbors who are as caring and generous of friends as the Hymans have been to us over these last nine years. Now, as we all pack up our kids and take to the rails to whistle for pennies indefinitely, we imagine opportunities for new neighbors, and creative ways of sharing life together, and one day celebrating our children's children all while reminiscing of those days on Harvest Moon Drive when the kids would climb the fence and run each other over in the Barbie Jeep and learn how to love each other.

Parables from portland

A few weeks back, me and my crew spent a weeklong holiday in the pacific northwest with my aunt and her family. 'Twas gorgeous and lovely and delightful and all. It was my first time ever on the west coast. It was the doctor's first time ever splashing in the ocean. We hiked a mile up the side of a waterfall. We were given free coffee by locals. One of us had a rock dropped on our foot by some kid messing around the side of a cliff. 

Living on the edge, y'all.

Side note: My aunt makes some fat coin selling antique dolls and such on these here interwebs. Somehow, because of that, these poor ragamuffins ended up in my notebook.

Good knight story

Today, baby jane and i played school. She was the teacher. My assignment was to make a book about a knight, etc. She decided that she should help color my illustrations. Here they are.

Once there was a knight. He had a good heart. In fact, his heart was so good that he felt he should let everyone know about it by bearing the image of a heart upon his shield and armor. The idea didn't really work the way he hoped it would, particularly when trying to intimidate evil, fire-breathing dragons.

Speaking of evil, fire-breathing dragons, this dude thought he might help himself to the companionship of the most stunning magenta-faced gal in the kingdom. That gal just so happened to be the only daughter of the noble king.

Against all odds, the brave knight defeated the evil dragon in an battle of wits. The princess was rescued from the beast's clutches as the knight carried her back to her father's castle to ask for her hand in marriage.

The noble king gave his blessing to the marriage, and he threw a most excellent party in their honour.

The end.

?

Howdy, cuz

Baby jane & the good doctor have a new cousin as of last monday morning. That's granddad rockey grinning over his new granddaughter. Feast your eyes upon that glorious head of hair.

Congratulations, brother bear.

Remember to remember

My granddad was born on the 29th of february. He passed away a little over a month before baby jane came along. I spoke to my gramma on the phone this evening and we shared memories of the birthday boy. She recalled his last birthday four years ago. Gramma was picking him up from a senior care facility he'd been staying at briefly. The folks there had pulled out all the stops to make a big deal about his birthday, seeing as it only came around every four years. As they were loading up the car with all of granddad's belongings, they lost hold of the majestic balloon that served as a proclamation of the day's celebration. They watched that balloon disappear into the stratosphere. 

A few months later, we said goodbye to granddad.

Before ending our conversation over the phone, gramma remembered aloud how much she enjoyed watching granddad interact with little children when they'd be out shopping for groceries. She said that he was particularly comforting toward those who appeared upset or distressed. I wish he could have been around to spend time with baby jane and the good doctor. I have a feeling they would have enjoyed some lovely moments together. 

Until another time when heaven and earth become one...

Ship ahoy

Now, anyone who knows my wife and i knows that we don't spend a great deal of time in front of the television watching sports. Chicks sticking screwdrivers in zombies faces? Sure. Meth cooks beating the ever-loving crap out of each other? Absolutely! Oh sure, i'll cheer on indianapolis during the super bowl like a diehard fan. Why, i'll even spend a couple hours with my bro at conseco fieldhouse cheering on the pacers. However, when it comes to the st. louis cardinals, we're talking about something very different.

Last night during the epic homerun derby/bullpen battle that was game six of the 2011 national league championship, mama jane confessed her enjoyment of watching baseball. We've spent the past week together with our 3-year-old daughter and 6-month-old son cheering the cards on to victory over the milwaukee brewers.

Now we have at least four more late nights to look forward to as they head to the series yet again.

Squiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrel!!!

The obligatory pumpkin patch post

We never know what to expect during the annual patch outing. Sometimes the weather cooperates and sometimes we wish that it would. This year, the sun joined us for Dr. Sebresian's first trip to the apple works. In case you're not up to snuff on your Rockey family glossary terms, Dr. Sebresian is just one of the handles that Nolan James goes by. That's right the sun was shining, the pumpkins were plenty, and we only suffered a handful of meltdowns. See those pumpkins lying behind Baby Jane? Those were the two she picked out for her and her brother, the good doctor. That shot was snapped immediately following her decision to no longer carry the load. 

Moments later... tears. 

I'm still not exactly sure why.

Check out this dude gettin' his chill on. If anyone knows an alpaca who needs a place to crash, you can totally throw my digits his way.

The doctor and i had to talk this guy down. We promised him that we wouldn't feed him gravel like all the others. Come on folks, show these dudes some sympathy. They don't possess the discernment which so many of you take for granted.

It's alright, goat. The doctor and i are here for you.

Look who's pleased with himself after another day's work.

That's a satisfied customer.

Now go out and grab yourself a gourd, cut its guts out and toast yourself some seeds!

I call him dad

Do i blog about my pops enough? That's a ridiculous question. Of course i don't blog about my pops enough. I should blog about my pops some more. He's kind of a hero of mine. Don't tell him i said that though. I don't want things to be weird between the two of us. Take a look at that picture of him holding his grandson like a pro. Clearly, this is a guy who's no stranger to holding a baby.

Do you wanna know what else he's not a stranger to? Being rad. Oh yeah, and being ordained as a teaching elder, minister of the word and sacrament, and installed as associate pastor at southminster presbyterian church.

Anyhow, i'm super proud of my old man. So when he asked me if i would perform a song at his ordination ceremony, i was more than a little bit honoured by the invitation. Per his request, i revisited the interpretation of psalm 63 that i composed many moons ago. Here is that psalm as performed at my father's ordination on sunday, august 14...

Psalm 63 - 8-14-11

All this and blueberry pancakes

We had us a mighty fine week full of tiny visitors from near and far. For the first time in baby jane's three years, we got to celebrate her birthday with the cousins from the pacific northwest. We call them robbie and kayleigh. We spent a great deal of time running laps through gramma connie's house and being schooled on the history of lego via a first-grader.

Our tomato garden was attacked by giant mutant caterpillars who almost made baby jane their dessert. Little did they know that they were being lured to their exit.

This little guy wandered far from home and found himself knocking on our garage door for assistance. Our animal rescue unit sprang into action and gave him a wet albeit non-private room where he could recuperate. Soon after, baby jane and i returned him to his natural habitat - the retention pond behind the vacant mexican restaurant.

Baby jane and her pal trotted off, hand in hand, to their first session of ballet class. It was a raging success full of pseudo-plies and dizzying spins. Despite baby jane's concerns with having a teacher in the class with her, she warmed to the young ladies leading from up front enough to not split early.

Finally, on the morning of august 23rd, baby jane officially transformed into a three-year-old. How else do you celebrate if not by sticking a giant 3 into a short stack of blueberry pancakes and lighting it on fire?

Say what you will about us rockeys, but you can't say we don't know how to party.

Happy boogaloo

It's not that i feel the need to throw a party for myself, but it just serves as the perfect catalyst for inviting a crapload of people over to the house to participate in some good time-havin'. It was only what seems like a few weeks ago when some friends and i were discussing the idea of an outdoor movie projected on the side of a house. While i've entertained the idea in the past, it was this conversation, and a forthcoming thirty-fifth birthday which finally set this thing in motion. The decision on which film to show as a feature presentation was an important one. It would have to be one which made a lasting impression with me from an early age well into adulthood. After much deliberation, the obvious choice was of course the 1985 masterpiece directed by budding filmmaker tim burton and starring paul reuben's childlike character pee-wee herman, Pee-Wee's Big Adventure.

We began making plans on how we would pull off this incredible feat. How would we affix a bed sheet to the broad face of the back exterior of our house? How, you ask? Why, duct tape of course. I called in a favor for a theater-style popcorn machine, borrowed a projector from some old friends, and braced myself for the impending 'disturbing the peace' call. Well sir, when the highly anticipated evening finally arrived, i never could have guessed what a success the entire event would be. We had over 65 guests throughout the evening including family, high school chums, college buds, new friends, old friends, & neighbors. Why, we had visitors travel from as far as Bowling Green and Fort Wayne to be a part of the festivities. When all was said and done, we had a back lawn full of folks from all seasons and sectors of life lounging and laughing together beneath an open sky occasionally lit by stray bottle rockets being fired from the adjacent apartment complex.

My deepest heartfelt thanks goes out to everyone who came out to the rockey home to make the evening as spectacular as it possibly could have been. I'm not sure i could have asked for a better way to celebrate getting older.

Alright, go for it, daddy

Getting right down to it is the name of the game around these parts nowadays. We are presently smack dab in the middle of week two of Daddy Is The New Mommy Experiment, Part 2: The Electric Boogaloo. In other words, Mama Jane has taken an opportunity to work with some kids this school year allowing Yours Truly to spend each and every morning bonding with Baby Jane over cow milk and wonder pets. These are the days. This very morning, I asked Baby Jane if she'd like to go downstairs and have Daddy make some waffles for breakfast. Her response: "ALRIGHT! Go for it, Daddy." L-to the-O-L. For srsly, I almost fell on the floor. The kid's got more personality than I know what to do with. Thus far, we generally spend our days screen-printing, colouring, watching movies, drinking coffee, completing puzzles, shopping Goodwill, listening to 45's, reading books, and fighting sleep.

Nap time would be so much easier if only we had one of these at the house...

Ahhh, the magic of the people mover.

As previously mentioned, The Mustard Room has been in full swing. A few custom print jobs are formulating, but in the meantime we've been doing some short runs of sharks, dudes, and lions. We're also getting situated to begin some brand new recordings. The thing is, it's all about space...

Inspiration station

Magic keys

Battle axes

Shake and bake

Trapper keeper

Observation deck

Now, let's see if we can't do this again sooner than later.