Tag: family

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Eight Years Later

On this day in 2007, the small Wilcox clan relocated to San Diego—to be closer to my father-in-law, who turns 94 in about two months. We sacrificed much, and gained some, too, by leaving the Washington, D.C area. Daisy, as seen in one of her last romps in our backyard, is among the many things precious we left behind. I still miss that rabbit, which surely has exhausted her lifespan by now.

If I could redo any part of my life, we would stay somewhere around Washington and never move out West. The community left there, we never really regained here. My daughter’s burgeoning ice skating career collapsed with the loss of coach and friends. While she found other mates at San Diego High School and San Diego State University, she left behind more—as did my wife Annie and I. 

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Flickr a Day 142: Beloved

To celebrate my wife’s birthday, I select a self-portrait she shot, at age 21, during the hopefully-not-forgotten fine film photography era. Ha! And youngsters today think selfies are some new thing. Annie doesn’t have a Flickr, so I—ah, hum—unexpectedly feature my own. That’s something not planned when starting this series nearly five months ago.

Annie used the Pentax K1000, which she bought for a college photography class. “It was a great camera for me”, she says. “I loved photography and really enjoyed developing photos”, although she concedes to not fully “developing my craft”. 

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Skating Star

Today, my daughter skated in her first US Figure Skating competition, at the San Diego Ice Arena. San Diego Figure Skating Club sponsored the competition, Skate La Grande. She skated in Las Chicas Group D with nine other girls.

Credit goes to my wife, who made extra effort to get our daughter in the competition. Technically, our girl is still part of the Washington Figure Skating Club, which required extra paperwork and permissions for her to participate as a guest. There also was some concern her Washington affiliation might be a handicap in judging. 

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Thanks Isn’t Enough

Thirty years ago, on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I knuckled down for a lonely holiday with the mainly foreign students on the University of Maine campus. I had no way home but was ready to tough out the long weekend with the other students.

With a difference: Many of my companions came from countries with no Thanksgiving. They didn’t have the memory of family and feast for this particular holiday. I was a freshman, too. Some of the guys planned to hang out in the computer center and play keyboard games and read the print-out action on teletypes. I would join them.