March 23rd, 2004

Another big first has occurred in Landon’s young life; and for that sake a big first for his parents as well. Last Saturday marked the first night that the Buhr’s spent the night away from home as a family. We trekked down to San Diego to spend time with family, and to visit the guy who does our taxes, so the weekend was definitely filled with some highs and lows.

The government is again going to grab money out of our already shallow pockets. The tax guy again reiterated this year that we need to invest in a house. We asked him if after having just looked over our annual income if he thought it would really be possible to purchase even a hovel in the over priced Southern California real estate market. He sheepishly nodded his head in agreement.

We had a lunchtime bbq with Andrea, and Landon’s great grandparents Sharp were also able to attend. We couldn’t have been there more than five minutes before they layered guilt all over us about the fact that almost a month had gone by since the last time they had seen their great grandson. I assured them that the time between our next visit would not be so long, and also reminded them that the freeway goes in both directions (a phrase that I find myself using frequently). Landon is a very, very popular kid.

We spent Saturday evening and most of Sunday with my parents in Poway. I lay awake for a few hours late that night, holding Landon while he stubbornly refused to fall asleep. It was a strange place to find myself in, one that I hadn’t ever imagined visiting. Here I was, holding my newborn son, in the same room I spent most of my adolescence in, staring at the same walls. Late nights spent worrying about tests, or figuring out the best way to approach the girl in my history class, have quickly warped into a time zone where I now lay awake wondering how much longer this tiny boy in my arms could possibly keep his eyes open. I guess growing up, you never really picture little events like that as a grown-up, at least I know that I never did. Landon finally fell asleep, I actually stayed awake awhile longer, thinking about how different my life is now than it was ten years ago, and wondering what the next ten years would bring.

Sunday was spent watching more NCAA basketball, and spending time with the family. My Dad and I visited a nearby nursery, and picked up a pair of poplar trees to plant over Lucy’s grave. The trees themselves were over ten feet tall, so we drove them back standing out of the wide open sliding side door on their minivan, tied in by a few strips of twine. It was a slow ride, filled with questioning stares from the cars that raced pass our slow tree convoy home. The trees looked great in the yard, and I thanked my Dadagain for allowing us to bury Lucy in such a beautiful place. His reply was that although it was probably illegal, he hoped to be buried in the yard as well someday. The statement caught me off guard; I don’t think I was ready to hear my Dad talking about is death, especially in such a straight forward manner. It ran through my head several times the rest of the day, but the more I thought about it, the more I understood. The only thing I think that he may enjoy more than his yard, are his poems, and I’m guessing he may want to be buried with some of them as well.

Justin came down later in the day as well. It was great to see him; and to watch how excited he was to see his nephew – he even asked to check out a dirty diaper, explaining that he wanted to know everything he could about the little guy. I know it’s hard for him to live so far away, and to be honest it’s hard for me to have him gone right now as well. He’s a great friend, brother and uncle.