Two Weddings and a Graduation - Parte Dos

Ah...so where were we.... AHA! Gregory's graduation!

When Greg started Kindergarten, he seemed to have trouble grasping some of the basics, and by first grade, he still struggled. But his teacher, Mrs. Insko - a lovely young woman...of course - worked with him, and patiently taught the little towhead how to not only read, but to love learning. He loved it so much, in fact, that except for about a year or so following his graduation from USC, he has pretty much been in school ever since.

So, off were we Daltons, some 25 or so years later, to Multnomah Biblical Seminary in Portland, Oregon, to watch and beam as Greg received his second Masters - a Master of Divinity. We be so proud!

But, there was more to the weekend than just our son in a funny hat and dress. It actually started somewhere between Kindergarten and graduation, actually. Last Christmas Greg made his Christmas present for his family round trip tickets to Portland, and we would all be staying in his place. Now, before you start picturing six adults and two tots in a college dorm room, I should clarify that Greg lives in a very large home, Him, and six other guys. Kind of a Godly frat house, we call it - all the testosterone, minus the empties and stripper pole. The Dalton gang would occupy the basement, which isn't as spooky as it sounds - although it does seem like that's where one keeps the scarier members of the family that you don't want your roommates to know about. It is actually a very comfortable 2 bedroom, one bath apartment. Kyle, Kristin and the kiddies occupied one large bedroom, Don and I in the other very spacious bedroom, and Uncle John got the futon in the living room. Greg moved upstairs to the futon in the living room on the main floor, discovering, only after his first night of attempted sleep, that he had the same issue with his bed as we had for Autumn and Tarkus' wedding - wonkage. But that was his problem. We were all rather cozy downstairs - except for John. His futon was only slightly wonky. His problem was of the cute, jammied variety. John works very hard at his job, so when he has mornings to sleep in, he likes to do just that. Kind of challenging when you have a little niece and nephew that want to play with all the toys that "Guncle (Uncle Greg) borrowed from his church for them to play with. Not only that, Uncle John is fun to play with. Somehow we even managed to survive with only one bathroom! Not easy when two of the apartment's occupants are card-carrying adult females. But we more than managed - it was a four-alarm blast!

We got there the day before his Friday May the Thirteenth graduation...which would make it....Thursday the Twelfth ...yeah, that's it.
Don and I got tickets on the same flight but further back. Our plan had been to offer to trade with someone seated next to K&K&Kiddies, and Uncle John. In fact, we figured there would be fistfights to see who could trade once they saw a three-year-old and a 16-month-old in close proximity. But, that didn't happen. Not only were they handling things just fine (kids and adults alike), we had our own version of terrors in the sky - two little tots who when not kicking the seat in front of them were whining or screaming about what they couldn't have. About halfway through the two hour flight (believe me, we counted every minute), the four-year-old was asleep in his seat, and the two-year-old was screaming about food and a movie. Mommy was pleading with him with a soft "shoosh-shoosh-shoosh", while Dad was reading his book. Egad. I ws ready to start my own fistfight. But we got thrre, safe and sound - but no Guncle. He was still at home putting the last minute touches on his place, but he was just a few minutes from the airport, so no problem. By the time Don returned with the rental Urban Assault Vehicle, Greg was there and we were all ready for this newest Dalton Adventure to begin!

It was fairly late in the day, so getting food was a pretty big priority (what I meant to say was that we were all STUFFED after our sumptuous airplane meal). Greg led us to a Portland trademark - food carts! Think of the offspring of a county fair and a roach coach, with a little funk thrown in. Actually, this was some pretty amazing comfort food - and given that such comfort food is frequently on the D&D menu of late (as to which my clothes shrinking while hanging in my closet can attest), this hit the sweet spot. There are several of these cluster of colorful carts scattered around Portland, occupying vacant lots or a bunch of parking spaces, and the carts surround picnic benches. We sat ourselves around one and began to feast on pulled pork fries, pepperoni pizza (with the best crust I have EVER had!), and hand held pies - chicken, pulled pork, and mac n' cheese. oh my. We snarfed down what we could, then had a bunch of leftovers. The celebration had begun in earnest.

The next day was the BIG day. Greg's Baccalaureate (omigosh. Spelled it right on the first try) was at 10:00, but we had to get our favorite graduate to the school by 9:30. This would be the first morning of all of us trying to get beautiful at once - with the exception of John who decided that sleeping in on a slightly wonkish futon was far superior than fighting for the limited shower time. We actually managed to get ready and be beautiful nearly on time. One thing that Kristin and I discovered quite quickly that there was no sign of a woman having anything to do with the design of this house. There were no vanities in any of the bathrooms - just pedestal sinks. Where is a girl supposed to lay her makeup, blow dryer, flat iron, hair products, paddle brush, round brush, hair clips, and coffee!?!? The bedrooms were no better. For all their spaciousness, they had only one outlet, and that one outlet was nowhere near a mirror. See, I know I just lost any guy-types that might be reading this, but EVERY girl no what I am talking about! But I digress.... Point is, we got to the service on time and we were all quite lovely.

As we sat down in the service, and saw all these Masters graduates - our son among them - it just hit me. this is our little goofy Greggor. I began to replay moments of his life. And, yes, I began to cry a little - which Kyle IMMEDIATELY pointed out to his brother. SO, what's your point there, boys!?!?!? I earned my mushy moment. I failed to mention that among the Greg's fellow graduates was Cari, the bride for the next weekend and one of the stars of my last blog. She and Greg had been friends down in SD, at The Rock Church, working together in the Care and Concern ministry, then Cari started at Multnomah a semester behind Greg. It was wonderful seeing her that morning, but even more wonderful to see her get a special award! I would tell you what it was for, but I don't quite remember. I just know we were as proud as if she were our own!

Service over, we headed back to pick up John and enjoy the day before the big wingding that night. I should also point out one other, maybe very obvious, factor in our visit to Portland. We froze. Keep in mind that Don and I each grew up in Southern California. I lived in San Diego my whole life, and he was born and raised in So Cal, and except for some college years in Iowa, he lived in warmth, too. When the brisk winters of San Diego, where temps might plunge to the low 60's, became too much for us, we moved to Maui. Being a relatively smart person, I kept an assortment of warm clothing in the rv for our visits to the mainland. We would obviously need these warm items, given that the high was only supposed to be in the low 60's. Look just two lines above to see how we feel about that. Anyway, the day before we were flying up to Oregon, I asked Don to go get said cozy garments from the side storage outside. This would require bring the sideout in, since where we were at the time, Golden Village RV Park in beautiful downtown Hemet, had narrow sites with thick hedges lining each site. Our sideout, in which the storage locker resided, was firmly smooshed up next to the hedge, and one would need several jungle guides with machetes to get through - without pulling the side back in, that is. Clearing out of the way all the things that we put IN the way (little cocktail tables, suitcases, shoes, etc.), it was time to push the magic switch that would bring the side in. So, I pushed. The hydrolics that move entire sections of a nice little motorhome like ours make a high-pitched whiny sound as it expands our interior from an aisle with furniture to an actual living room. TAH-DAH!! The reverse is also true - push the magic switch, whiny sound emits, and your living room contracts down to a carpeted aisle with a sofa and lounge chair. TEE-DEE!! This time I pushed. All whine, no action. Tried again. The whine seemed to get more intense, as though the little man inside was pushing really, reeeeally hard. Nuthin'. Don went outside to offer encouragement to the reluctant sideout by pushing with all his might as I continued with the squealing, useless switch. It moved!! About an inch and a half. Suffice to say, we left for Portland without all the warm things that I had packed away for storage. I did have a pair of jeans, some cords, and three sweaters. Unfortunately, the sweaters were less about keep me warm than they were about keep me cute while looking like they were keeping me warm. Limited success on both points. I also had only open-toed shoes. Cute shoes, to be sure, but not so much about being warm.

Back to Friday. We took off for the afternoon to Mt. Tabor Park. Beautiful and green, and where the trees did not provide shade, there were carpets of yellow and white wildflowers. After a short (pant-pant!), easy (pant-puff-wheeze!), walk up the slope (puff-puff-GASP!!), we were blessed by a stunning view of Mt. Hood. Understand, this is a rare sight. In fact, of all the times in Portland, this is the first time we have ever seen Mt Hood in its full length pointyness. There were also lots of places to take artsy-fartsy pix of family - some that actually looked good! The best, of course, were of Amber - first after her father laid her in a field of wildflowers, and then when she did the sort of 3-year-old-vamp-over-the-shoulder-smolder. Smokin'!! Watch out, Kyle. Less than ten years 'til the teens.... After an easier descent, and some fun at the playground, it was time to get our favorite grad off to get pretty for his ceremony.

The commencement ceremony for Multnomah Bible College and Seminary was at a big church several miles south of Greg's house. Greg flew out before the rest of the gang - this time, the role of Kristin and the babies was being played by Uncle John. With only being a teeny bit late, we cruised in in time to take our seats then listen to a piano play "Pomp and Circumstance" - lovely, but lacked that swell and drama and tear-jerky stuff. I still managed to cry. Duh. The graduating classes of Multnomah aren't huge by any stretch, but considering how we were in second row, nosebleed, it was a little tough to pick out our boy. "Hey, he's the one in the black dress and the half a pizza box, with the lamp pull hanging from the corner, on his head!" Yeah, not so much. It wasn't until much....much....a whole buncha much later that we saw Greg stand with his class. Since his particular class, Master of Divinity (M Div, if you like to speak in shorthand or text talk), was the second to last of AAAALL the classes, so yes, it was much...much... later. When he came up, and his name was announced as he was to receive his hood, Greg's brothers reacted - by screaming like two twelve-year-old girls at a Justin Bieber concert. Two of Greg's roommates were sitting next to my other sons. I think they - and all strangers around them - deserved combat pay. As if the pre-pubescent female screams weren't enough, Kyle yelled out his location to Greg, and the entire mass of people. To the people at Rolling Hills Church attending the commencement ceremonies of Multnomah Bible College and Seminary on Friday, May 13, 2011...we, the parents, offer our sincerest apologies....and no explanation.

Commencing ceased, and we began the exciting game of "Find Your Graduate!". Easy, remember? Look for the guy in the black dress, half pizza box with lamp pull on head, and now, a beautiful satin hood - which, in actuality, looks more like a fancy stole sewed into a circle then looped around the graduate's neck like a backwards lei. But it is the coolest thing. Maybe ever. We finally found him and started snapping the requisite poses with family, friends, and innocent passers-by. We also found Cari, and took a couple of lovely shots of the two of them. Wait. Let me be honest here: Cari looked lovely. Greg looked like....Greg. This new recipient of his second Masters had his tassel in his mouth - which quickly got attached to the wad of chewing gum he'd been working over since before the ceremony. The next pix show him trying to free his shiny red tassel from the sticky glob. Ah, me...

The rest of the weekend flew by - we took the Max (their light rail) into the Saturday Market, and ate more wonderful bad food while enjoying the very colorful culture (and counter) along the Willamette...or Columbia - we're not sure which. But it was a river. The guys cooked steaks, then Kristin got to be free of the little ones and head with all the men to Greg's favorite pub for darts and a brew. Sunday morning, we watched Greg as worship leader at his church, where the pastor said it was "all about Greg" day, and officially dubbed him a bona fide Smarty Pants. After church, we walked in the rain (the Californians were the only one with umbrellas because Portlandians think they're silly) to the pastor's house, where a BBQ was given in Greg's honor. Impressive. Before giving thanks for the food, there was a "Time of Appreciation" for Greg, as one-by-one, folks told Greg what they appreciated about him. This could be the most wonderful gift any parent could receive - to know that others see their child as they do. And, yes, I cried. Do you really have to ask!?!? Then, dinner that night with our nephew, Phillip, and his lovely bride, Nicole - rather impressively pregnant with their first (she's in labor as I write this!! Go, Nic!!). Such a day. Such a weekend.

Monday came too quickly. Back to the airport. So fast. We hung out as long as we could with Greg (actually forgetting that we hadn't yet gone through security and we had a baby in a stroller. oops). As we were saying our last bye-byes to Gregory/Guncle, he said to me with a smile, "You know, I was looking at those professors with the fancy robes and hoods, and the floppy hats. I want to be one of them."

I'll get you for this, Mrs. Insko.