Tag Archives: Family

July 22, 2010 · 3:00 AM

I’m Searching for the Word that means “Honored AND Embarrassed.”

This was Monday night at a ceremony honoring my mom as Bellevue’s Volunteer of the Year.  She had no idea anyone knew about the event, so when 25 of her nearest and dearest showed up, she was totally pissed (in a good way).

I’m pretty sure the city council meeting hasn’t seen this much action in, well, its existence.  I’m also pretty sure it was unprecedented when all of us virtually emptied the room after her item on the agenda concluded.  There was audible laughter as we all scampered out of the room before the mayor could begin the discussion on traffic congestion on 4th Avenue.

We high-tailed it to John Howie Steak House to raise a glass to a woman who quietly works to improve the lives of the disadvantaged.  Let’s emphasize the “quietly;” she was mortified to be recognized.  And she’ll be just as mortified that I mentioned her here.

Sorry, Mom, but you ARE the Volunteer of the Year.  The cat’s officially out of the bag anyway.

In case you’re interested in the speech that was read to introduce her:

The City of Bellevue Volunteer of the Year Award is designed to recognize volunteers who have not only made a significant contribution to the community or to an individual, but have also gone above and beyond the call of duty, shown leadership, innovation, creativity, collaboration and partnering.

Tonight we are honoring the City of Bellevue Community Volunteer of the Year, Alyson McMurtry, who serves at the Jubilee REACH Center.

The Jubilee REACH Center provides community based programs to meet the needs of the diverse and underserved Lake Hills Community of Bellevue, Washington. All services at the JRC are offered free of charge and rely heavily on volunteer support. The Jubilee REACH Center serves families and individuals in the Lake Hills community regardless of age, gender, religion or ethnicity.

Alyson started a no-cost English-as-Second-Language Program (ESL) with 5 adult students in a church Sunday school basement room.  The program has grown to 186 students, 53 volunteers and operates 4 days a week in 7 classrooms.

Building close relationships with their students, Alyson and her volunteers saw deeper needs and connected students to support services at Jubilee REACH Center.  As a result of her efforts, her  ESL students received free dental and medical care, counseling, legal assistance, Christmas gifts, rent and utility assistance, eye glasses, computer classes and computers, before school childcare, after school care, job search help, parenting classes, exercise classes and winter coats.

Furthermore, Alyson has given untold hours as an active volunteer at First Presbyterian Church of Bellevue and throughout the Bellevue community. Among other accomplishments she has:

  • coordinated preparation and serving of annual Thanksgiving Dinner for 450 neighbors for 10 years;
  • served on the Hunger Ministry, feeding hungry Bellevue neighbors;
  • coordinated the Alternative Gift Market, raising money for local underserved families and the poorest people of the world; and
  • taught English at Hopelink for 5 years.

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May 5, 2010 · 3:00 AM

How to Run a Race

You never know where life’s lessons might pop up.

Take running a race, for instance.

Start line.  Finish line.  It’s the same everywhere.  But it’s what happens in-between that matters most.

Last weekend we ran our fourth Bloomsday race in Spokane, WA.  Mike’s sister, her husband and three kids live in Cheney, so we have made it an annual event to visit them and run the race together.

This year my father-in-law joined the ranks of the finishers.


He had me and Rachel (you may remember her from our Olympic adventures) as coaches and partners in making it across the finish line.

But just like in life, you do not go from Point A to Point B straightaway.  There are roadblocks.  Oddities.  Humors.

A few of life’s lessons, from Bloomsday 2010:

Rule #1:  Find a team for the journey.


Rule #2:  It’s not the beginning of the race that counts  (a direct quote from my grandfather, Roger Berger).


Rule #3:  Expect to encounter a few looney tunes.


Rule #4:  When all else fails, keep moving.


Rule #5:  If someone with an accordion and a banjo out of the back of a trailer wants to cheer you on, let them.


Rule #6:  Remember that you are only free to run your race because others are standing watch.

Rule #7:  If you’re going to dress as Raggedy Ann and Andy, go all out.

Rule #8:  It’s always acceptable to be inappropriate for a good cause.  Especially boobs.


Rule #9:  Obstacles are inevitable.  Keep going.


Rule #10:  Laugh in the face of adversity.  Or vultures.


Rule #11:  Don’t look down.


Rule #12:  Count all of the mile-markers as victories.


Running a race is a lot like life:  it’s hard, funny, long (if you’re lucky), and totally worth the sweat it takes to get there.

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April 21, 2010 · 3:00 AM

To my Grandpa on his 88th birthday

Last night I returned from a long weekend in Pennsylvania where I celebrated my grandfather’s 88th birthday.

He is not a man who seeks attention of any sort, but in this case he had no choice — all of his baby birds were flying home to the nest whether he asked them to or not.

And there are quite a few of us: four children (plus a spouse), seven grandchildren (plus 3 spouses) and three great-grandchildren.  It was semi-controlled chaos.

We grandkids gathered around the birthday boy and his darling wife for a multi-generational photo.

It’s easy to gather around the man who for nearly forty years has gathered his arms around his grandkids.  He’s the epitome of engaged; during our childhoods he intentionally orchestrated specific events that would be easy for our memories to grasp hold of.

My earliest days with him were long summer days spent at his and grandma’s house in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.  The fact that they moved within five miles of my sisters and me is demonstration of his dedication.  That he also made those long summer days a total kick in the pants is the icing on the cake.

For starters, he bought me a Powerwheels red Corvette convertible.  Any child of the 80s just read that and said to themselves, “Stop right there.  No need to continue!  He’s obviously the greatest grandparent alive if he knew to buy you the most royally awesome gift of all time.”

And it was! …right up until he was crusing through Toys ‘R Us one day and spotted a red Jeep Powerwheels that could not only seat two, but also had two speeds.   Needless to say, I was soon upgraded and flying across his backyard at mach 2.

But lest one should think all he did was spoil us, I offer this illustration.  A couple times a week while my parents were at work, Grandpa would take us on walks down the retired railroad tracks, where we’d skip along the iron rails and jump between the wooden ties.  This was particularly fun because we were usually fresh off the latest episode of Shining Time Station (Ringo Starr as miniature magic train conductor?  Of course!).

These walks always happened to land us at the local ice cream shop at the end of the tracks, where Grandpa would treat us to two scoops.  Hmm, this story was not supposed to be about spoiling the grandkids…let me try one more.

When we’d run to the grocery store to pick up something for Grandma, we’d stroll the candy aisle and he would lift the lid on a couple of the jelly bean canisters and tell us to grab one.

“How do you know you want to buy them if you don’t taste them first!?” he’d say as justification. We felt like we were being given permission to rob a bank — it was glorious.

But let’s be honest: any man who served in World War II deserves a few free jelly beans.

That’s him on the left, Mr. James McMurtry, Jr.  Quite the stud, right?

GP, as we call him (short for Grandpa…this isn’t complicated) taught us about life mostly by example.  I can’t recall him ever giving me a lecture on finances, but I watched him save and spend wisely.  From what I hear he was fairly frugal most of his life, but even that has its limits:  he’s been known to buy a new car rather than have the oil changed on the one he owns.  He’s owned ten Cadillacs in as many years.

When I got married a little over two years ago, he didn’t pull me to the side for some marriage advice.  He didn’t need to; his marriage of 65 years spoke for itself.

In 2004 when I was headed to D.C. for an internship, he and my grandma dropped me off and helped me get settled in my new dorm on Georgetown campus.  We quickly realized the dorm room didn’t come with plates, cups or utensils, so we headed to the store to buy some.  He and grandma started filling the cart with far more than I needed, and I said, “You don’t need to get some for my roommates!  Let them get their own supplies.”  He turned quietly from filling the cart and said, “That’s not a very good way to  start a friendship, is it?”

I couldn’t reply.  I honestly thought he’d be proud of me for trying to save him some cash, when instead he taught me that generosity is far more valuable than saving a dollar.

When I got into town last week, there wasn’t much for us to catch up on; we never let enough time pass between calls.  Most Monday or Friday mornings you can find me blithly breaking the law as I chat with GP and GM on my way to work.  That’s how it’s always been for us: casual, close, best buddies, really, rather than distant, formal family.

The most I can say is what he’s done for me is all I can hope to do for my grandchildren.  I’ll keep them close while letting them find their way.  I’ll never let them doubt that they are loved beyond their knowing, but that the world does not revolve around them.  And one day, when they ask me about when I was a kid, I’ll be sure to tell them about this man, this Grand Father, this patriarch of our family tree.

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