Plenty of memories, lots of smiles

A friend of mine on Facebook asked an interesting question:

What is the one memory that always makes you smile whenever you think about it?

There are so many, and nearly all of them are connected with my children. I know I've annoyed some of you before when I've bragged on them, suggesting that I have the two most amazing kids in the world. Well, all I can say is I'm sorry, but don't expect me to stop, because they keep getting better every year.

I'm not their biological father, which reminds me of the old Rodney Dangerfield joke where he said his kids were good looking. "Thank God my wife cheats on me."

I suppose I could make a similar joke, except for one thing. I think I'm better looking -- or at least I can be -- than the other guy. I suppose I should say thank God the kids take after their lovely mother.

They're both amazingly good-looking, although it's Pauline who has blossomed the most as she has gotten older. She went from cute to pretty in high school and since having her first child last year, she has gotten all-out beautiful.

The funny thing is, that's probably the least of her assets. She's as hard working and dogged at her job as her mother, which is really saying something. Her latest performance evaluation on her job sounded more like a rave review than an evaluation.


And she is a great mother. She has put so much effort into that job the last eight months that her daughter -- my granddaughter Maddie -- has got to feel like one of the most loved, appreciated children in the world. I have never seen her raise her voice, let alone lose her temper, and she seems never to get frustrated in some situations that would have left me screaming.

I've mentioned the videos we get to see on her Facebook account. I'm trying to get her to send me at least one so that I can post it here for everyone to see.

Maddie was born in Beijing last September, and when Pauline's two-year tour ends early this summer, the two of them and husband/father Ryan will be back in the states for a year or so for another round of language training.

It was the last time they were in Washington that Pauline gave me the memory that always makes me smile when I remember it.

All during the time she was growing up, Pauline always introduced me to her friends as her stepfather. A big part of it was loyalty to her dad; Pauline was 12 when Nicole and I got married, a difficult time for a girl.

And while Virgile, who was five years younger, always called me "Dad," Pauline never did. Our relationship was different. She and I didn't have Boy Scouts, youth sports and the high school band to get closer.

But when we were visiting Pauline and Ryan in Washington for Christmas 2006, a friend of hers from work stopped by their apartment. Pauline introduced us. "This is my mom, and this is my dad."

Amazing.


It's harder to pick one with Virgile. He was an adorable little kid, and he did all sorts of funny, goofy things. But there were two things that happened in roughly the same year that I'll always remember with a smile.

In June 2003, just before graduating from high school, Virgile was part of a concert where the top senior musicians performed extended solos. With an orchestra backing him, and an arrangement he wrote, Virgile played George Gershwin's "Summertime" on the tenor sax. I don't think I've ever heard a high school musician play better.

That fall, during his freshman year at Cal State Northridge, one of Virgile's roommates came up to me and wanted to say something.

"I just wanted you to know that Virgile is the nicest person I have ever met in my life."

I can't imagine a nicer compliment.

I know long-time readers will remind me that I've written about these things before, but I'm not sure you can ever give people enough positive reinforcement.

I don't credit myself for them being the people they are, and I certainly don't consider myself a better person -- or even a better parent -- because they turned out well.

They're just two people I am very proud to know, and they have brought a lot of smiles to my life.