The Seattle Chronicles: Day Three

"I saw three ships a-sailing by, on Christmas Day in the morning..."

It was, in my estimation, the best Christmas I had ever had...

I went out and fired up the Jeep Cherokee, and went out driving for the first time. Like when I was a kid and would ride my bike all over town. I stopped by Sacred Heart, where I was able to get a copy of sheet music to be used later in the day. (I'll get to that.) I then went down the street to visit my cousin David -- unannounced, of course. His wife answered the door in her pajamas. I hadn't seen my cousin in nearly a decade, so with the kids trying out the new toys and with me holding their new two-month old, we got all caught up.

Back home (at least my home away from home), Shirley and I called my parents. It was a quiet day for them, my siblings having been there the night before. With the speakerphone on, I played Marty Haugen's "Night of Silence" on guitar and harmonica, with Shirley adding the words to "Silent Night" on the last verse. They asked who that was I was with. That's when we broke the news about where I was. Dad was a good sport: "You know, Shirley, he never asks our permission to do anything anymore." The two sisters hadn't spoken to one another in several years (long story), and so the spirit of the season worked its influence, and the two of them got caught up. Then cousin Andy came by (the one that everyone used to say reminded them of me) with his little one Sam. The four of us went for a drive, with Andy giving me the highlights of this beautiful city.

Later that day, we went to Andy's house for the grand Christmas dinner with all the Lampkins. My Uncle Mick was there with his mother, the children were running all over the place. I was instantly at home, as the children introduced themselves and showed me their new toys. Mick and I got caught up on many things, including career and family, parents and siblings. I had often sought his counsel over the years on career decisions. The dinner was a feast to behold, and I found myself so moved as to get up and propose a toast, one I had learned from my father: "O quam bonum et jucundum, est habitare cum fratribus in unum." I winged the rest.

My cousin Tom called from Portland. I didn't get to talk to him, but I'd probably get in touch with him later. (For those of you who follow major league baseball closely enough, yes, that Tom Lampkin.)

The meal was followed by a lively discussion of business and politics, and the international scene. Mick could have retired years ago, but into his sixties by now, he pursues his life's work with the zeal of a man half his age. With contacts and travel all over the world, he brought the global perspective on American foreign policy, and its failure to allow freedom of trade to unite the planet. The dialogue was like food to a starving man, and it got me to thinking about things differently. Mick wanted me to remember him to my parents, and assure them of his prayers for them.

On the way home, Shirley's husband Jack drove us by the residential section known this time of year as "Candy Cane Lane." All the houses were decorated and lit up to the hilt, each of them displaying a sign out front with the word "Peace" in a different language.

Come nine o'clock, the two of them indulged me by watching one of my favorite shows, NBC's "The West Wing." They don't go for TV much, but it gave me a chance to talk about my experience in the Nation's capital. As much of a challenge as I have found it to be making a home there, it is still a captivating place in which to work.

It was nearly midnight when I turned in. My body had already made the adjustment to the time difference. But throughout the day, something in my head kept telling me it should be three hours later.