Paint the town red velvet cake

My September birthday landed on a Thursday this year. Lame. Had I my druthers, I'd have pushed for the weekend so that all three of us could have hung out for the day. Ah well. As it stood, I found myself greeting the anniversary of my birth with red-rimmed eyes and an old-man cough. Wicked head cold, I tell you. (Apologies once again, Mary Kate, Nora and Greta for having to cancel my birthday dinner party due to illness.)

The good news is that Dad came through like the champ that he is with made-from-scratch red velvet cupcakes layered with homemade cream cheese frosting.

Um. Simply. Delicious. Thanks to Dad for the treats, Mom for the birthday hugs, and all of my loyal readers for the birthday cards and practical gifts. Mom and Dad are particularly pleased with the simplicity of this birthday celebration. Here's hoping my second year proves just as adventurous as my first.

In other news, we're gearing up for a new addition to the family. Be it a boy or a girl, I'm simply hoping I don't lose my priority seating in the back seat of the car. (Where has the whole front-facing-car seat option been all my life? The traveling world is a whole new place when you can keep tabs on where you're going - rather than where you've been.) Mom has exactly four weeks and three days to go, and she seems more than ready for day last of this gestational journey. And, come to think of it, so does Dad. A patient, patient man, he is.

It's October tomorrow. As we march to the beat of multi-colored trees, high school soccer games, shorter days and longer nights, may this message find you whistling to the tune of the autumn air, and painting your own town red with simple pleasures throughout your days.

Until next time,

Ken

Rest in peace be with you

Approximately ten days ago, Mom and Dad and I piled in the family Buick and high-tailed it to Cleveland, Ohio to remember, celebrate and commend my Great-Grandpa Corrigan. After four years of suffering from Alzheimer's disease, he passed away at age 84: Just four days shy of his 61st wedding anniversary. I agree with Mom: I'm glad he's no longer suffering, but it sure is tough to say goodbye.

Great-Grandpa Corrigan sounds like a solid character. Father of 10 children, WWII Vet, stellar husband and community leader, he balanced hard work with humor and appreciated life for its array of human experiences. Could I be like him someday? I watched as four (count 'em, four) scheduled wake times and one funeral overflowed with friends, family, credit union co-workers and customers, neighbors old and new, and faces from as far back as grade school joined us to pay their respects to the man I get to call my Great-Grandpa Corrigan. That's so cool.

And my Great-Grandma - let me tell you - she handled the whole affair with a grace and style that I can only hope to emulate if I'm ever in the same position. Her faith, acceptance and resiliency is an inspiration. Recognized by my Great-Grandpa (even in his final days) as "the love of his life," I pray that my Great-Grandma continues to dwell within the peace that she and my Great-Grandpa shared together.

As a result of the shared family goodbyes, tears, and happy memories, I'm inspired to re-evaluate the quality of my every-day-ness. Our road trip to Ohio allowed me to discover two heroes: of whom I'm sure Mom will tell me about often. As I grow into my own ability to imagine, identify, remember, and emulate, I hope that my spirit and character becomes, in part, a reflection of my Great-Grandma and Great-Grandpa Corrigan.

Until next time,

Ken