Dear Cousin Justin

Thank you so much for spending your hard-earned paid time off from sourcing Canada with raw fuels to come and visit us here in our little pocket of Eastern Tennessee sweetness. We hope you are recovered from early morning sounds of our children caterwauling in the kitchen as well as the oft-repeated chorus of whining for more mini-marshmallows.

I have a sneaking suspicion you discovered some crumbs from "super hard bread" in your pants pockets, or at least an errant steam engine trinket in your luggage. The kids are still quite dazzled with your abilities to guzzle so many liters of sweet tea and not have to pee every 3.5 seconds as they do all day.

By the way, I hope you still managed to see the majority of Rock City in spite of the fact that a makeshift port-o-potty was erected by my two children every five paces. Good grief. Ain't nobody got time for that.

Maybe in the coming weeks, a little part of you will long for veggie turkey loaf or a nutter fluffer sandwich or that pickled okra you left in our fridge.

In those times of longing, just think of us and say a prayer for us as we will for you and dream of the time when we can drive our hoopty Canyonero up to your hinterland of a province and experience all the delights that you and your love Angie adore in Calgary. We can't wait. We probably will all be able to hold our fluids better then, and maybe we won't watch as much "Busytown," but we'll still be your American FamiLee, raggedy crazed party of four.

Love you lots, Favorite Cousin!

- The FamiLee in Tennessee

35th Wedding Anniversary

The business of pleasing one's in-laws is knowledge gained through much trial and much more error. This is a universal truth, no? You don't grow up with these people like you did with your own parent(s), but you come to know their preferences and peccadilloes through the narrow windows of opportunity that your grown-up relationship affords you. I mean, it's not as if my mother could have prepped me for this dynamic with my own in-laws:

"Okay, one day, Kendra, the nice people who raised your remarkable husband are going to want to celebrate their 35th wedding anniversary by hauling you and your kids in the snow to a Mid-Western mall where you will pose in your Korean hanboks for a photographer who doesn't know quite to make of this in the middle of the Sears portrait studio. Just smile and do what they tell you to do, even though you feel really self-conscious about your weight right now, and your kids would much rather wheel the Dora umbrella stroller around the barbecue grill displays."

And yet, in so many words, my mom was imparting this message to me for years. I think the cross-stitched message of my entire girlhood was: Suck it up, kid. This is making someone happy, even if it's not you. (Cheerful adage, isn't it?)

Needless to say, today we got our pictures made in honor of my in-laws' anniversary. My brother-in-law and sister-in-law couldn't be there, living across the country and all, so hopefully we will be able to Photoshop them in their wedding hanboks. Next best thing, right?

We are an incredibly photogenic family.

No, really. We are a cute bunch.

We researched what the official gifts of the 35th anniversary were, and we learned it was jade and coral. My father-in-law found some gorgeous coral-colored roses.

Isn't my mother-in-law gorge?

35 years + 2 sons + 2 daughter-in-laws + 2 grandbabies = blessed life

Cultural Exchange

1. Survive post-war Korea where the only toys you had were, legit, rocks. 2. Serve in Korean Air Force.

3. Move to hinterlands of Canada. Birth babies in hospital where doctors do not speak your first language.

4. Move across Canada in conversion van; wheel flies off en route and catches fire.

5. Eventually settle in Michigan, open dental lab.

6. See sons graduate college and marry.

7. Meet grandchildren.

8. Go to Chinese buffet in Chattanooga at 4:30 p.m. before the rush on the sushi bar.

***

Sometimes I feel so inadequate to thank my in-laws for their sacrifices, for raising the estimable men that they did in my husband and in my brother-in-law. What can I give them in return for the kindness they have shown me, for the love that was so difficult to understand at first, and for their patience as I came to understand them better?

I'm reminded of that poem The Lanyard by Billy Collins. My in-laws gave me support and faith and the man that takes care of me and I gave them a sushi feedbag at the geriatric dinner hour.

***

My in-laws visited this past week. We had a lovely time. It was one of the best visits, and even though that's a hard thing to qualify, it was just ace. One night we sat around going through the English language alphabet and practicing pronunciations and laughing, and the next night we sat around telling stories about crazy times in apartment living. And we laughed some more.

This is not to say that the visit was all easy breezy with some kimchee and cherries on top. But ten years into knowing each other and I am convinced that the laughter and the love do cover a multitude of language and culture gaffes.

I mean, is there really such a thing as a "cultural exchange?" Can you exchange a culture like a neat and tidy hand-off of foreign currencies, a U.S. dollar for two Mexican pesos kind of a thing?. It's never an equal give and take, a perfect helping of Mazo ball soup for that very large enchilada in my experience. Navigating another culture is an absolute mess, with overtones and misinterpretations that get me into all kinds of trouble. But anything worth getting messy over is worth doing and having. My in-laws' culture is vastly different from the one in which I was raised and we are both still learning and struggling mightily to learn from one another. We are fortunate to love so many of the same people, and chief among them is our God.

Thank you, Lord, for my amazing in-laws. I don't know how I hit the jackpot with them, but fortunately the exchange rate is favorable where I am....

*** Incline up Lookout Mountain

Point Park, Lookout Mountain

Do you enjoy how Baby Girl is fixated on MagnaDoodle design in contrast to God's handiwork in the view off of Lookout Mountain?