Picture = 1000 words... Messed up Picture = Silence

Hello,

This is Randal.  It has been many days since our last correspondence.  So I thought I would entertain you with a story.  Now before I begin, this post/story has no significant weight, meaning I am not trying to end world hunger, or make the reader think "How would my life be better if I only did...".  So if you are wanting to be pushed to your mental and spiritual limit, stop reading now.

Growing up in a small town outside of the metropolis of Wichita, my family owned a small plot of land.  My mother was always camera crazy, and wanted to get pictures and document everything.  This was before the time of digital cameras, and phones with cameras.  Video cameras were the size of a microwave or a crock pot.  And cameras used something called film, it was not all stored on a card the size of dime.  As children we had our pictures taken quite a bit during, holidays, vacations, music concerts, and anytime anyone from any town came to see us.

Our story begins the summer before my senior year of high school.  My parents decided to take us all as a family on a trip across the south western part of what is now known as the "Lower 48 States".  This trip would take up 2 weeks driving from Goddard, KS to Long Beach, CA and back.  We had many interesting stops, and my parents got upset with me just sleeping in the back of the Purple Dodge Caravan several times.  But I got car sick, and playing the Nintendo 64 only made it worse. One stop was quite interesting though, less then a few days into the trip we were outside of Las Vegas and decided to take a tour of the Hoover Dam.  While on the tour the family and I were walking through a tunnel, when we heard a thud echo through the darkness we were crawling through.  Now differing stories have surfaced since this event, one was that my mom was pushed, another in the darkness she wanted to get a picture of the 3 of us boys walking towards the light.  What ever happened, my mom dropped the camera.  Quickly she picked it up in hopes that no one heard what happened, but we did.  Once we resurfaced to daylight my dad, John Schafers, examined the camera and the damage.  With the sun light he looked like a young Russel Crowe in a Beautiful Mind, looking for clues... looking at the scratches to the camera.  Upon his review he informed us all that the camera looked fine, and that we lucked out.  We continued the trip and made it all the way back to Kansas, and mother made a special trip to take her 1450 rolls if film to SAM's Club to have them developed.  A week went by, and my parents took out a second mortgage on the house just to pay for the film to be developed.  We had the pictures... from this point on each of us boys remembers different things happening.  It was all a blur, it happened so fast our only reaction was to not move.  Like a T Rex we believed, not moving would make us invisible.  As mom started looking though the pictures she came to the  Hoover portion of the trip.  She fell to her knees, as if she just heard that Barry Manilow was really a woman and lip synced every song!  When the camera dropped in that tunnel it shifted the lens, making only half of each picture clear and the other half so blurry you would think you had a stroke.  I am not sure how my mom got to her bedroom, maybe dad carried her Bodyguard style, but somehow she was in her room, and all we could hear was the pain of a broken woman.  She did not leave that room for close to a week, she wouldn't sleep, she wouldn't eat.  Eventually she came out, and went through the 1.6 million pictures that were taken and weeded out the ones that were total trash.

Now we fast forward 13 years, not to the day.  I am married, and the father of two kids. Mason, a 3 year old curious about the world and not afraid to ask the question "Why?", and Madison a 2 year old that has the confidence to not take no for an answer and not willing to back down from anything!  They were both taking a bath in my bath tub. playing, having a glorious time.  I walked out of the room for no more than 30 seconds, when I hear them both say Oops.  When I rushed back into the room I found young Madison flooding the bathroom by pushing the spout out over the floor.  There was close to an inch of water covering the floor, and I went into FEMA rescue mode... grabbing clothes, and towels to mop up this man made lake in my bathroom.  I eventually get the disaster contained and cleaned up, thinking I adverted a horrible disaster.  When I told Beth about the incident she vowed that they will only be able to take baths in the kitchen sink from now until they are 25!  Weeks go by and the topic was not brought up again, until last Saturday.  I heard the horrific scream before I felt the house shake.  Beth came racing up the stairs, a color I have never seen her before, holding several large white envelopes.  There was a faint smell in the air, similar to clothes that have been left in a washer for 2 days longer then mold grows.  I could tell from the scream and noises coming from Beth's mouth what was wrong.  I had heard it before, on that calm  warm summer afternoon so many years before.  There were pictures in the envelopes, and not just any pictures but ALL of the professional photos taken of the kids from almost birth.  As we slowly opened the encasement, scared of what we might find in side, we found still damp photos.  the colors had not run or faded, but they were now waving and wrinkly like the color of an old white undershirt.  The pictures were stuck together, they had melded into a super thick poster of a photo.  Beth's reaction was different from what I had experienced before.  She turned a greenish color like the Incredible Hulk, and started to flip over the tables and rip the counter tops off and throw them at the refrigerator.  I scooped up the kids and we found shelter under a bar stool that was out of Beth's reach.  She tore through our house like a loose elk running from a lynx in a chandelier shop, leaving a path of destruction.  But like all tornadoes, she subsided and we went back to work trying to unpry a picture of Mason's face from Madison's foot.  We must have sat at that table for what felt like 5 minutes, time went by so slow!  Eventually everyone was calm, and we decided to try unorthodox methods, like freezing the pictures, treating pictures like a wishbone at thanksgiving, and even trying to re stage the pictures in our living room. I don't know how this story will end, but I do know we saved a lot of good pictures that day.  And luckily when we bought the pictures I followed my moms example and we had 399 pictures of each pose!


This short story was brought to you by http://www.carbonite.com/en/

Open Letter Series - Part Seven: To My Siblings

Even though you tortured me, told me I was unwanted, and gave me ridiculous nicknames, I still love you. I hope that even though I tortured you and drove you mad, you still love me too :)

Kelli:

I couldn’t ask for a better big sister.  Although we’ve had our ups and downs (you called me Pepper, I stole your Dean Cain pictures and cut the hair on your Barbie), you’ve always been there for me.  It’s hard being 5 years apart -we’ve always been in completely different stages in our lives.  But I love seeing how our sisterhood has crossed over that gap. We’ve been there to support one another in our triumphs, catch each other when we fall, and hold each other in our heartache. 

Your friendship has meant the world to me.  You didn’t have to be the sister you are.  There was enough of a gap that you could have left home and just let me be.  You didn’t have to let your nerdy sister hang out with you and your college friends, but you did.  You didn’t have to come home for games and activities, but you did.  You didn’t have to be one of my biggest cheerleaders, but you were.  Now, you get to see me every work day and I love that! 

You also brought a great man into the family and I’m so thankful for him.  Ryan treats you like you deserve to be treated. He loves you like you deserve to be loved and I can’t say how much that means to this little sister of yours.

My sister makes awesome paper hats...

Marc: 

What a fabulous big brother you turned out to be! I had my doubts at times…you wouldn’t let me play with your Legos or follow you and your friends around and let’s be honest; we both made some stupid decisions and made the other one suffer quite often.  But you, my dearest brother, have continued to impress me as you’ve grown up. 

What a mature Dr.-man you’ve turned into!  I can always count on you for a good laugh and for good, honest advice.  Although we don’t hang out nearly enough, I love our times together. You’re the thoughtful, fun brother that every girl wants. You’re a hard worker that follows his dreams and we’re all so proud of you for that.  You’re a wonderful man that I’m proud to call my brother!

Also, I'm glad you didn't make it all the way to Africa on your bike that day!

My brother is a smarty pants...And he makes cool t-shirts

I’ve loved watching both of you grow in your faith and shape into the people you are today.  We’ve all helped each other get where we are and I love having you two not only as my siblings, but my friends.

Bonus-you’re a fabulous aunt & uncle to that niece & nephew of yours! You pick out the cutest outfits, you take them out for fun dates, but most of all,you love being around them and make a point to be present.  Thank you for playing such a big part in their lives and mine :)

Cool dude.

Love you both!
Beth

Ode to the Bullseye...

I love Target. I mean, I LOVE Target.  I don't know that I could name a single person that I know that doesn't love Target, so this isn't really news.  But I am beginning to believe that we may have a problem on our hands.  I may be spending a little too much time there.  Let me explain...

I usually do my Target run on my lunch breaks.  There is a Super Target near where I work, so I spend my lunch roaming the aisles...picking up family necessities and hunting for good deals.  Seriously - how do they have so much cool stuff that's always on sale?  It's ridiculous...and awesome - all at the same time. Every once in a while though, I take the family with me to the Derby store when I need to go there in the evenings.  Apparently they love Target too.  We have fun there. We could live there. OK, I could - but I'm the mom, so they'd have to move there with me.  

A couple of months ago, Mason told me as I was loading up the kids in the cart that someday, he was going to work at Target.  Now, I realize my 3 year old doesn't understand what he is really saying, but it was darn cute.  I had a good laugh and we had a nice chat about it while I wondered if I would get a family discount. 

I figured that, like most things he tells me, it would end there.  It didn't.  He brings it up occasionally and even started chatting about it with people at church, etc.  The topic comes up pretty regularly and has sparked some pretty hilarious conversations with our friends and family. 

Then, a couple of weeks ago, Randal found something while out for a run...a Target name tag.  The Heavens had opened and our son would finally feel fulfilled in his quest to don the red & khaki.

So tonight at church, the newest Target employee made his debut.  He was so stinking proud of that name tag and was super excited to finally work at Target! 

How cute is this guy?!

Also tonight was a farewell reception for our sweet Children's Minister Courtney.  I'm so very sad that she won't be here as our kids grow up, but so excited to see God's plans for her in the future.  Since she had numerous conversations with Mason about how he was going to work at Target, and we shared lots of laughs about it, I thought tonight was the most fitting time to send him in this new name tag.  Our Target boy gave Courtney a good laugh on a bittersweet night. 

We'll miss you Miss Courtney!