Denver: the land of BBLT’s

I’m not a very spontaneous guy. Yeah, sure, sometimes I’ll say things that raise an eyebrow, or I’ll draw on the back of a church program, or maybe start dancing while leaving a public pool. But you see, these are all rather small things. Nothing your typical North American young male Caucasian adult wouldn’t do. Which is why I found it so odd that in two days I decided I was going to Denver, Colorado, after a thirty second phone conversation, a deal with Delta.com, and an urge to see something new.

I bought the ticket, arranged transportation, packed a suitcase, and left. It was so quick and immediate I didn’t even have time to inform most friends where I’d be the next three days. Needless to say, my parents didn’t even know I had gone.

Sometimes in life, we do things without really knowing why. This can be either productive and good for our progress in life, or it can be detrimental and hurtful to us. This trip fortunately falls within the former category. I was going to see someone I haven’t seen in over six years. Someone, who, even when we both lived in California, I never really associated with. But since pretty much the beginning of this year, I had created what I’d consider my first, one and only, true pen-pal friendship. In its consistency and “open-book” attitude, our friendship grew and solidified. I feel oft times we’re more open and expressive through letters and chatting, no longer shackled down by personal discomfort of saying the wrong thing in front of their face, and feeling the sense of freedom of having so much separating geographic distance. This can be both bad and good. You could possibly say things you don’t mean to, not realizing how harsh or insensitive you’re being because of that gap. But you can also express things you’d be too afraid to say in person, or out loud, and a pen-pal could be the perfect individual to turn to for that “out-of-the-box” unbiased opinion.

So there I am, on the plane, when it hits me. “What if this is super uncomfortable and uber-awkward? Heck, it’s been years since I’ve seen her. Crap, I hope this wasn’t a stupid decision.”

It wasn’t.

The more I relaxed and thought things through, it quickly became apparent this was something I was supposed to be doing. I then couldn’t wipe the smile from my face for doing such a ridiculously impulsive act that filled me with excitement. And when I got off the plane, there she was.

Lyndsay is an amazing person. I instantly felt the friendship and understanding from her which we had cultivated over the many months of talking. It was delightful. It wasn’t odd. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t horrifically boring. She smiled and just like that, six years of absence dissipated as we drove off into the busy streets of Denver.

Lyndsay has three beautiful children. There’s Oliver, the man of the house, a strapping young boy of 8 whose mouth is fit more for a 13-year-old. I don’t ever remember sounding that smart at age 8. Then there’s Mila, the squirt, whose facial expressions could melt your heart and send you cowering into a corner at the same time. She was a little stubborn with me in the beginning, but after she realized I had candy, then she didn’t want me to put her down. And then there’s Elliot, the lone wolf, whose rat-nest hair only accentuates her positively unique personality. One second she’s all smiles and softness, the next she’s reigning down on you in a tumult of face-slapping. And seconds later, she’s sucking her fingers and twirling her other hand in your hair.


All together, you have one demanding crew of kids that kept me entertained and on my toes the entire time I was there. I’ve never enjoyed kids as much as I did that weekend. From forcing myself to eat Ho-Ho’s to gain the admiration of my young peers, to bouncing around aimlessly in a wide assortment of blow-up fun-houses, to just laying down with them and giggling or watching Flapjack (a hilarious cartoon on cartoon network) I realized how great it feels to experience the blessings of caring for a young, impressionable child and being a protector. I never fully appreciated my parents until now. Lyndsay and I had gotten the kids into their pajamas, read them their stories, and tucked them into bed, and I was exhausted to the point I was leaning up against the wall for support. Surely it must be past midnight. I look at the clock. 9:30.




Mom, Dad, I don’t know how you did it with 8 of us brats filling up every nook and cranny of the house. I apologize for never believing you when you said you were just too tired to play. I learned something that night. After catching a second wind, I could then sit down and talk with Lyndsay and reminisce on anything and everything that came to mind. It was wonderfully soothing to get to speak to someone who could look at everything from such a different perspective. Being not of my faith, it was even a breath of fresh air to hear what one might have to say about current trials I might be facing. Sorry Mormon friends, but I have to admit, spending a weekend in Denver, feeling the diversity and eclectic vibe of beliefs and lifestyles, it was a much needed break from the monotonous.

Denver has such a distinctive taste to it. I love the brick buildings that are scattered throughout the city. I learned it has the most parks than any other city, that its elevation is exactly one mile high, that it has over 200 lakes, and when you get into downtown, it has even a slight New York City feel to it. These were all things I got to expose my senses to while having some time away from the kids and able to just walk and talk with Lyndsay. And with the up and growing graphic design productivity at hand, I’m eager to return and check out their galleries.



Sunday night, while Lyndsay grilled up some maple-glazed salmon, baked potatoes and corn on the cob, Oliver introduced me to his “How to Draw Dragons and other Mythical Beasts” book. We then sat on the hardwood floor drawing dragons. He asked me to do another drawing for him while he was at school the next day, so I drew him a robot. (He’s a big transformers fan). I'll include the drawings once I get the copies.

I have to thank Heidi and Craig, Lyndsay’s sister and brother -in-law for letting me stay over, and putting up with my stupid and silly humor during Phase 10 Sunday night. They are very warm people and I felt very close very quickly with them. Sorry I skipped you so many times Heidi, it’s just you happened to sit to my immediate left.

We checked out the aviation Museum, went to a fellow student’s birthday party, and never once took a break to catch our breath. I loved every second of it. And never did I expect to fall in love with a family so quickly. It didn’t help when Elliot would say “Night daddy” or Mila would say to her teacher when I helped pick them up from School, “That’s my mommy and that’s my Logan”, or Oliver, who frequently posed the question, “Why does Logan have to leave today?” Crying as I packed my bag goes without saying. Thinking up last second excuses and reasons to stay another day littered my brain like an empty field after a week-long Glastonbury Festival. But I had to go home. And so I kissed them all goodbye, rung out the last tears from my glands like a damp washcloth, and travelled back to Provo, UT, all the while wondering how one weekend could have such an impact on my life. A second trip can’t come soon enough. I shout out a thanks to Lyndsay and her kids for helping me enjoy such a weekend and allowing me to appreciate the beauty and importance that is parenting. I miss you all so much!