2023/25 ROBES

I just looked through the 5,323, 657 photos I have stored on my computer, searching for a particular moment I was sure I had captured in a snapshot. Alas, that moment was one year before I got my first iPhone. Though I suspect we have a hard copy of it somewhere in this house, finding it now is not prudent. I am therefore stuck with only words to tell you about the day I placed Dave's black judicial robes over his shoulders. It was the day he was sworn in as a judge back in 2008. Before family, friends, and a distinctive panel of judges and political leaders, I recall the swish of crepe as the black robe fell over his shoulders. The moment is one of those slow motion kind of memories I hold in my head.

Today, while driving to Salt Lake City together, (in the middle of the day no less!) I commented how only four of our eleven grandkids were even alive that day, and they were all too small to remember. To us it feels like day-before-yesterday. To them it was a lifetime ago.

I was really honored to be invited to place those robes on Dave. It was sort of like the raising of the right hand we do in church when someone is given a new position. Besides showing a vote of confidence in them, we commit to support them in their stewardship. Placing those black robes on Dave was a raising of my right hand, a token that I committed to support Dave in this heavy responsibility.

This portrait of Dave in his robes was taken
when he was first appointed.
It hangs in the hallway of the 2nd District Courthouse.

I've thought, these past fifteen years, that Dave looks particularly regal in his judicial robes. They flow nicely over his able shoulders. His hair, fifteen years ago, had a lot less white in it. I've thought his silvering coif has created a very nice contrast in the last few years.

15 years on the bench will turn your hair gray!
This iPhone photo can't match the quality of a Busath studio portrait.
Sorry, Dave.

During the pandemic, when we were holding court virtually from our home, we moved the vintage American flag that stands in our family room into Dave's study. We removed Dave's Law School Diploma from the study wall and placed a wire hanger over the small picture hook. That's where Dave's robes hung during the heat of the pandemic, when the whole world seemed to stop turning but the wheels of justice didn't. Dave was Presiding Judge at the time. He and Judge DiReda, Associate PJ, spent hours on hours on the phone, into the dark nights of the crisis, figuring out how to continue to hold court before the world learned how to function virtually. It was a massive undertaking for which I venture to guess there will have been just a handful of people in the world's history who were part of figuring this out for our judicial system. They were living history. And that black robe was part of the history. In the mornings I would tip-toe around the corner to the glass-paned study doors to peek in and see if His Honor was wearing his robes. I knew if he was, then court was in session, and I'd better hold off making my morning protein smoothie in our loud blender. I hold a tender and respectful place in my heart for the image of his beautiful robes hanging in our home. It was a powerful moment in our worldwide history where we learned that we revere people and processes more than places.

His robes hanging on the wall of our home study.
That's his checkered face mask also on the hanger.

Last week, for the last time, Dave removed his black crepe robes. I have nailed a permanent hook in his home study where they can hang as a reminder.

When the retirement speeches were over last week,  and the courtroom was nearly empty except for a few of our kids and grandkids, I placed a new robe over Dave's shoulders. A yummy, soft, warm and cozy Minky Couture house robe. It's time for a little snuggle-pause, to relax for a moment. 

That hanger with his name on it is what we
eventually hung his robes on in the study.
I ordered it for his birthday that year.
It looked more official than the wire Red Hanger one.

Nearly every night, for the last 15 years, he has spent his sitting down moments preparing for the next day's court docket. It was stunning to me how much homework Dave did. My image of him, late at night when I was in my soft recliner, was him on the couch with a hefty stack of papers in his lap, reviewing cases for the following day while the 10 o'clock news played in the background.

We have now had one full week of no late night legal work. Instead, he's at the computer researching his family's genealogy in preparation for a trip to Ireland we'll be taking next week. But tonight, after our nightly scripture reading with Timo, Dave decided to watch an episode of NCIS. There he sat, in his usual place on the couch...  in his Minky robe... folding laundry.

I could get used to this.

Before...

... After.

Can we just pause, for a moment, and show a little respect for the iPhone?
For all the frustration smart phones have brought on us,
I appreciate the fact that so many priceless moments in my life are
captured and stored on the little handheld computer I carry around in my pocket.
 It's worth every penny of cloud storage I pay each month to
preserve them in a place that is easily accessed and readily shared.

2023/24. "ARTICULATE, ARTFUL, RESPECTFUL & FAIR" (REMARKS BY SENATOR STUART ADAMS)

Senator Stuart Adams' Remarks at Dave Connors’ Retirement
March 15, 2023

What an honor it is to be here today. For multiple reasons. One is we have great respect as a legislature, I see Senator Stevenson here, we have great respect for the co-equal branch of government and for the job the judicial branch does in the state of Utah. We are very, very fortunate, it’s an honor to be here with Chief Justice Durant. But I want to tell you I’m really excited to be here to be able to say a few words for my good friend, Dave Connors. He’s been a great friend for many years. I can’t think of Dave Connors without thinking of Dave and Cori Connors. They’ve been a team together and I can’t think of one without the other. It’s great to have both of you here today. In fact, my first association with Dave came through Cori. Cori’s mom, Afton Hansen was a very talented, powerful, dynamic real estate professional and she worked in our office. We miss your mom. She was an unbelievable person, a personality that wouldn’t end and I can understand why Cori is so talented. And following Afton, Cori’s sister, Libby came into our office. How blessed we are to have known so many family members. Another blessing in this in my life was because of them I got to know Dave. My interaction with Dave was not only through Cori but also through our political experiences. You may know that Dave served for a few years as mayor of Farmington. I really didn’t want to be an elected official, that was not on my bucket list. That was not something I really thought I might do. I ran for my first assignment on the City Council was because my daughter was getting her license. She was 16 and there were not lights on Highway 89, so I ran to try to get lights on Highway 89. And during that period of time, after we were able to get lights on Highway 89, both my mom and my dad drove into Salt Lake every day with different assignments in separate cars. There was a little effort, you may remember at the time, to actually permit the Legacy Parkway. You may also remember that there was a mayor, another mayor in Salt Lake City by the name of Rocky Anderson, who was passionately opposed to Legacy Parkway. I was so determined to try the permit that highway that I actually ran for the House of Representatives and became a legislator. My very first session Mayor Anderson wanted to be reimbursed millions of dollars for the money Salt Lake City had advanced for the EIS for the light rail line to the airport. As a freshman legislator I decided that I would block that money, and I was successful. Mayor Anderson finally agreed to meet with me. I’m not sure why our Legislative legal team didn’t want to meet with me with him, maybe they thought it was out of their purview. But basically I was left alone. So who did I call? My good friend Farmington city mayor Dave Connors. We sat down together with Mayor Rocky Anderson and negotiated him stepping away from his lawsuit. Just think about that for second, in exchange for the reimbursement of the money that Salt Lake City wanted. In those meetings, I got to know Dave in a different form. I got to know up front and personal how talented he was. There were very tense moments with Mayor Anderson. You can imagine with his personality. In true Dave Connors form, he never lost his composure. He knew how to apply pressure, and to get an amicable solution. He was articulate, artful and respectful, but he demanded fairness. What were the results? The highway got built.

I can remember after the highway was built many people coming to me, actually some in tears, as they talked about how they were able to get home, to be able to catch their kids soccer games and to be able to have their lives back again. But very few of those people, not many of them, if any, know the impact that Dave Connors had on that highway’s completion. And I actually believe that’s the case for many things that Judge Connors, Dave Connors, my friend has done in this life. 

Judge Connors is so capable it’s really hard for me to see you go. You’re an asset to the state and our community. I am kind of excited because I know Dave and Cori, that they’ll find something exciting to do. So, I’m kind of excited for you that you’ll have a new page in your life. I just want to say to you, very clearly, the state of Utah is very grateful for your service and I am personally grateful for your service. More importantly, I am really grateful for your friendship. Thank you, Dave.

Two good men embrace

2023/23 WHAT FELLOW JUDGES SAID ABOUT DAVE

SPEAKERS at DAVE'S RETIREMENT CEREMONY

TRIBUTES to JUDGE DAVE CONNORS

Judge Ron Russell

Judge Ron Russell’s Remarks

 

It’s an honor to be here today with Judge Connors and his family. This is our opportunity to honor him. I first met Judge Connors when our children were going to Viewmont High School together and we had children in high school musicals together and choir and other events. And our paths continued to cross as Judge Connors was a city councilman in Farmington, and I was serving in the same capacity in Centerville City. And then he, for some strange reason decided to run for mayor, and of course the brilliant citizens of Farmington elected him, and our paths crossed again. We crossed as lawyers in various respects. I guess being mayor wasn’t enough community service for Judge Connors. After practicing law for 30 years of practicing law he was appointed to the Second District Court by Governor Huntsman in 2008. 

When I was considering making application to be a judge the first person I talked to was Judge Connors. I met with him and had a good discussion and ultimately, I asked him to give me the oath of office when I was sworn in as a judge. Dave I just wanted to thank you for your service to our community in all of the respects that you have served us. You’ve been a great example to me of what a judge should be. You show genuine concern for those who appear before you. You’ve been respected by those who do appear before you as attorneys. You’ve been a great mentor and a great example, so thank you for that.

Now I have heard that the trouble with retirement is that you never get a day off. I’m sure you’re looking forward to spending some time doing things that you enjoy doing.

Just one quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson: Dare to live the life you dream for yourself. Go forward and make your dreams come true.

We’ll miss you Dave and wish you the very best in the next chapter of your life. 

Judge Mike DiReda speaking,
Chief Justice Durrant, Senator Stuart Adams and Dave

Judge Mike DiReda’s Remarks

 

As Judge Russell said it is bittersweet for sure. Dave is the last of my big brothers. I’m now the senior judge in the district, so if you felt that shake in the earth just now there’s a good reason for that. I’m really sad to see him go. He has been such a tremendous resource for me in many respects, not just in terms of the work we do as judges. I was thinking about the lessons you taught me, and I just want to talk about a few. There are certainly many more.

One thing that you’ve taught me, that I’m grateful for, is to be more available. We need to be more available in this world. We’re so tempted when we see calls come across our cell phones to let them go to voice mail. I’m going to try to be better at answering my phone calls and being available for people, because Dave has always been available for me. We’ve had discussions late after work about things in the district, and just about life and the struggles of serving in the capacity we serve in. He’s always had an open door. Whenever I’ve wandered down the hall, and it’s a fair walk from my office to his, he’s always been available, every time. He’s welcomed me in. I’m not going to miss the piles in your office, and those who’ve been in his office know what I’m talking about. There’s a little bit of PTSD when I think about it. But Dave was so proud just the other day when he called me in and said “Look!” And I was so shocked that I took pictures of his office because it has never ever looked that good before. It looks good!

By contrast, when he comes down to my office he says, “Do you work? There’s nothing anywhere in here!”

He taught me about having a positive outlook. In the district court we see some of the greatest inhumanity that you can see, when it comes to the way people treat one another. We never see people at their best. We always see them at their worst. And the cases that we handle, for those of you who may not be familiar with the way things work in the justice system that we work in, it takes a toll on you. He’s always been positive. I want to share just a quick story about this positivity, because I want to care this forward, in this job and elsewhere. You all remember when your children played AYSO soccer. Most parents have their kids play soccer because it’s the one sport that starts kids at the youngest age. The kids are always so excited to get their new uniforms and to see what colors they are. Then they get together to pick their team names. It’s always fun to see what team names the kids decide on. In this instance my son Jordan was on a team that received yellow colored uniforms, and they decided to name their team the Banana Splits. So, one day they’re playing another team that had black and gray uniforms. You don’t learn the name of the other team until the end of the game when the kids give a cheer for the opposing team. So, the black and gray team says, “1,2,3… Good job Banana Split!” And all the Banana Split kids ran around and were so excited. Then all the Banana Split kids got together and got in a little huddle and said, “Good job Dark Death!” and my wife and I looked at each other and said, did they just say, “Dark Death?” So I thought about that, and on a serious note, we really do deal with a lot of dark death in this job. I mean, it’s really hard. Dave’s positive outlook, this sort of outlook of Be a Banana Split is something that I really treasure. It’s hard to have and hard to maintain. But he radiates that, and every time we’ve talked and I’ve gone in to have my weekly therapy and talk and vent to him about one case or another, he’s always sent me out encouraged and positive and I really value that in him and I am grateful he has taught me that lesson.

He has taught me about being kind and inclusive and showing love. I know his family will appreciate this because they’re aware of it, but for those of you who are not, the Connors family has a refrigerator in their garage. For those of you that don’t know about it this refrigerator, it is stocked with drinks and treats. The rule is, for kids in the neighborhood, if the garage door is up and the Open sign is illuminated, the kids in the neighborhood can come in and take a soda pop from the refrigerator. But there are rules that they have to follow, some of which are that you can come in and grab seven and bring them back to your siblings, you know, that kind of stuff. But one of the rules is be kind. And I was just so impressed, I’m sure there are many others that are equally impressive, but I thought what a wonderful thing to teach the children in the neighborhood to be kind. Kindness is something that we can all be better at. 

Another thing I want to talk about is when I was appointed to the bench a year after Dave, Dave called me up in Ogden, where I started. He said, “Mike, I really want to bring this district together. This is really important to me. For so long Weber County and Davis County have kind of had this sort of separation and I really want to do what we can to bring this district together.” 

I said, “I’m in. What can I do?”

He said “Come and flip burgers at my house. We’re going to have a District Bar-B-Que.”

And so the Connors were so gracious to host these summer bar-b-ques at their home where we could get together and just talk about life, visit and get to know one another. I think it was a wonderful extension of your kindness to the district and I think a catalyst to our district coming together. I’m so grateful you felt inspired to do that. I am sure others have felt the same way.

Dave has taught me about the importance of having a sense of humor. I went into his office one time. Chief Justice, I’m sure you’ll appreciate this. My wife’s grandfather received his MBA at Harvard University, where you earned your law degree. He has a decorative chair that has the emblem of Harvard in the back of the chair. Well, Dave has two of these chairs in his office; one that has the emblem of Brigham Young University and the other has the emblem from Yale. I went into Dave’s office and saw his chairs and said, “Oh, I love your chairs. I have one in my home. I inherited it from my wife’s grandfather. It says Veritas on it, meaning Truth.” And I kind of made my fist representing that. And he responded, “Well, we at Yale have Lux and Veritas: Light AND truth.” Now, upon reflection I thought, you know what? Those folks at Yale probably need light to find truth. We’ve had good laughs about those chairs.

Yale

BYU

Chairs and statue in Dave's chambers

I just have one last thing I want to share with you in conclusion. I have the lyrics from the Broadway show Wicked. I hope I can get through these lyrics without getting too emotional. These really do capture how I feel about you. This is what Elphaba sings to Glinda:

It well may be that we will never meet again in this lifetime

So let me say before we part

So much of me is made of what I’ve learned from you

You’ll be with me like a handprint on my heart.

And now whatever way our stories end

I know you have rewritten mine by being my friend… 

I just want you to know that I miss you and I love you and I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to work with you and I wish you the very best, my friend.

Cherie & Mike DiReda - Dave & Cori Connors

2023/22. CONNORS GRANDS ON STAGE

Our grandchildren drew us to four different stages in the last week and what a delight it has been! Here's a little photo tour to preserve, on some level, the beauty of the music Parker, Anna, Joe and Timo created. I hold the music in my head and my heart. I revisit it through the tinny speaker on my iPhone. Knowing the videos will not preserve on this blog, I will trigger the memory and the sound with photos. You'll have to take my word that the music far surpassed the quality of the photos I took on my little iPhone.

PARKER

Cool Hip Cats
Farmington High Jazz Band
Parker on drums

Occasionally Jazz gives way to Rock and Roll

Parker is most comfortable with one of two things in his hands - a set of mountain bike handlebars or a pair of drumsticks. We have two killer drummers in Clan Connors. Park keeps the beat with the Farmington High Jazz Band, as well as a side band that rocks various stages around town. I am always stunned at the musicianship of these kids. I have to keep my eyes wide open to remind myself they are just kids. Parker is a lover of music, especially tasty jazz. That he actually gets to create it is a gift. It's tough to get a good shake when you are part of a very large school, and we are grateful for the determination and dedication these kids have demonstrated that placed them on these stages. Barvi, my littles!

ANNA

Owning a song from Hadestown.

Stirring up music from Waitress.

Back in the day, when Anna and her cousin Ruby
dipped their toes in musical theater in Sarah Asplund's
summer musical theater camp.

Musical siblings unite!
(Timo and Anna)

Anna has been pinch-me-blessed to be trained in the musical theater class at Mountain Ridge High School under the tutelage of Kelly DeHaan. What an incredible experience. I remember when I first encountered Kelly, before I knew him on such a personal level (he now plays my Christmas shows with me) I told Sarah she should consider moving to South Jordan so her kids could have Kelly DeHaan for choir. I couldn't believe he was a high school choir director, knowing all the other remarkable music jobs he had. As fate would have igt, Mr. DeHaan moved to Mountain Ridge High when it was built, being able to create from the ground up a musical program for a first rate school. Timo grew under his direction, and now Anna is too. Saturday night was the Musical Theater Broadway Review. Anna sang in all the group numbers, in a trio, and did a magnificent solo. Out timid girl blossoms on stage.

JOE

Dr. Ralph B. Woodward founded and still conducts
the Salt Lake Children's Choir

Musical siblings unite!
(Anna and Joe)

Sunday night we spent in the historic and magnificent Tabernacle at Temple Square at the “Sacred Evening of Dances, Music and Prayer”, hosted by Salt Lake Interfaith Roundtable. There our community united in diversity as dancers, singers, bagpipers, and many others represented their various religious devotions. Ten-year-old Joe, with the angelic choirboy voice, sang with the Salt Lake Children's Choir. They make such divine music. The whole program was remarkable. I'll include photos of additional groups that performed last night. It was a most beautiful and stirring event, causing me to rejoice in our mutual respect and diversity. Every single performance this choir has been part of has been beautiful. They are invited to perform in a lovely variety of venues and programs, which is unusual and refreshing in this territory.

TIMO

Lyceum Philharmonic Orchestra

Musical families unite!
(Timo and his mom)

Then today we spent in the beautiful Maurice Abravanel Hall, AKA Symphony Hall, where Timothy worked up a mighty sweat playing percussion for Lyceum Symphony, followed by a real workout playing timpani for the first three movements of Beethoven's 9th Symphony with the Lyceum Philharmonic Orchestra. What a performance! I laid y head back in the soft velvet seat and gazed up at the lovely chandeliers in that divine space, the light sparkling off the crystals like stars in the firmament. I told Dave afterwards that you know when an orchestra is doing their job well when you can fall into a peaceful rest during the third movement. I never could stay awake in the symphony. I used to beat myself up about that. Now I embrace it as heaven breathing down on me and allowing peace to enfold me to the degree of losing consciousness. Anyway, it surely was divine.

One of the most thrilling parts of all was that Dave was able to attend today's mid-day performance with me without having to take a vacation day or get someone to cover his court schedule. Huzzah!

We celebrate the fact that the generation two branches below us is embracing the power of music. Makes my heart vibrate with joy.

Other performers in the Interfaith Celebration 

Carol Makita was emcee

Utah Attorney General Sim Gill prayed in Sikh and English

Hindu Dancers

Interfaith Roundtable Chair Zeynep Kariparduc

Khmer Dance Troupe (Hindu)

Buddhist Obon Dancer

Cambodian Khmera Dance Troupe

Desert Winds

Jewish Rabbi and his band

Salt Lake Scotts Pipe Band

Tee-Opa-Shaw
Native American Band sings mournful Protection Song

Salt Lake Center for Spiritual Living Band

2023/21. ANTICIPATORY JOY

This being the pivotal halfway point between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday, I found myself ruminating during church this morning on what we know of the final days before the crucifixion and resurrection of the Savior Jesus Christ. I recalled this time last year when I was preparing a Relief Society lesson on the Holy Week. I remember thinking how sad Jesus must have been knowing what was to come, and being rather alone in that knowledge. His closest friends, his apostles, at least according to their writings, were not clued-in to the upcoming tragic turn of events. But Jesus knew what he would have to face, and what he would have to sacrifice to accomplish his purposes. That’s when I discovered, through the power of Google search, the concept of anticipatory grief. Jesus had to have had some level of sorrow, even knowing he would be resurrected, at what was to come between the Sermon on the Mount and the Mount of Transfiguration. 

We humans experience anticipatory grief all the time. I felt it when I was seventeen and knew I would be leaving home to attend college. Then again when I was 24 and Dave accepted a new job that included moving our young family from Pittsburgh to Utah, so far from David’s family. Anticipatory grief flowed from my eyes and dropped at my unconscious mother’s bedside, her breathing labored, her hands still warm but still. We watched her every breath those last long days, anticipating the loss, until she breathed no more. Grief seeps in and out of our lives like fog from the sea.

Today though, something in me (perhaps it was the hope of Spring in the crocuses that finally appeared beneath the rocks in Annie’s front yard), something reminded my soul that we also get to anticipate joy: Reunions of all sorts, fair weather after a long hard season, a safe arrival home. Christmas, and Easter, and all the other in-between holidays.  An upcoming vacation. We anticipate a child returning home after some sort of distant service, and the vision of it gets us through the rough spots of separation.  I remember well that forethought of rocking my babies getting me though the swollen ankles and heartburn nights of late pregnancy. We have, in probably excessive measure, a goodly share of anticipatory joy available to us. Hope springs eternal.

On the drive home from church, I got to thinking of particular anticipatory joy, the short-term variety; the leftover apple pie waiting on the kitchen counter. The removal of constraining clothing, followed by the soft angelic flow of Sunday frock fabric floating down over my shoulders. And then, as if these were not enough pleasure to lift any weary heart, the prospect of a Sunday nap sent me over the edge and I giggled aloud in the car.

There was a young family seated in front of us in church today. We were visiting another ward for a friend’s mission farewell, so I did not know them. The young father was holding his small son on his lap. The boy looked over his dad’s shoulder and back to us, smiling. At one point he took his father’s head in his hands, demanding his attention, and just stared at him. It was more of a gaze, I suppose, where eye meets eye and is so comfortable no other motion or words are necessary. Eventually the young father tipped his head to the side and buried his lips into the neck of his toddler, kissing him over and over. I got to thinking how rare such an interchange is among mature people. We are so used to getting from point A to point B we forget to bask in the pregnant pauses. I imagined myself, seeing as I was in the mode of holy thought, cupping the face of my God in my pudgy infant fingers. I imagined Him willingly looking, without any expectation, straight into my eyes. Then, seeing as I was in the mode of anticipatory joy, I imagined God himself bending his powerful neck and burying his face in the folds of my chin. Holy kisses.

Anticipatory joy!

And I thought, right then and there, to thank the Lord for allowing my divinely driven spirit the pleasure of anticipating, every Sunday morning, the prospect of Sunday afternoon naps. The best rest of the week. Like, by command, I am given permission, after taking the holy Sacrament, to lay my head on His shoulder, my heart beating right against his, and let myself drift into his rest.

 

2023/20. LEMON MOUSSE

I made this for Dave's Retirement Reception.

Exceptionally refreshing.

LEMON MOUSSE

(Makes 3 cups) 

 

6 large eggs

1 cup + 2 Tablespoons sugar, separated

2 teaspoons lemon zest

1/2 cup fresh lemon juice (6-8 lemons)

Pinch of salt

1 cup heavy whipping cream

 

Shave zest from lemons (use 4 t for cooked curd and the rest for topping)

 

Bring a few inches of water in a large saucepan to simmer

 

To another pan that will fit atop the hot water add:

3 whole eggs

3 egg yolks (save the separated whites for later)

Sugar, lemon zest, lemon juice and 1/8 t salt whisked together.

 

Place atop simmering water and stir while heating until it thickens a bit.

 

Remove from heat and set aside 15 minutes. Cover with plastic wrap and chill for at least a few hours or overnight. (I chill it in a larger bowl)

 

Whip reserved egg whites with ¼ c sugar until stiff. Fold into chilled curd.

 

Whip heavy cream.

 

Fold into lemon mixture.

 

Makes3 cups. I spoon the mousse into an icing tube, cut off the tip and squeeze into small shot or dessert glasses from the Dollar Store. Top with a dollop of whipped cream. Top with shaved lemon zest along with a tiny spoon also bought at the Dollar Store. I made 4X this recipe for 90 small servings

2023/19. CROCHET LESSONS

Auntie Annie teaches Anna how to crochet.

The two Ann’s sat hip to hip on the raised hearth of the cottage fireplace. Two skeins of yarn, two crochet hooks, one heart, and one mind. I watched them as I cooked supper, peeking up through the steam rising from a pot of boiling water. The kitchen was close enough to recognize the song of their voices, Aunt Annie carrying the figurative melody and sixteen-year-old Anna adding occasional counterpoint. It was such a lovely song and dance the two of them created on that lazy summer day. 

When you have a settle-in kind of place for your vacation, where people can come and go at their leisure, rotating from beach to lunch to board games then back to beach without having to ask permission, it allows for that emotional space where blank stares and nothing-to-do’s become “Would you like me to show you how to crochet’s?” One needs a good chunk of non-obligation down-time, in the presence of someone who knows how to do something, in order to discover there are things you never thought you’d want to do that you end up loving. Sometimes those simple things end up changing your life for a while. 

A few years ago Aunt Annie invited Anna over for a lettering party. Annie, my ADD girl, was focused at that time on artistic hand lettering. Anna fell in love with it, and still today does lovely hand lettering in her cards and posters. Last summer it was crochet lesson #1 at the cottage in Michigan. Lesson #2 was at our kitchen table back in Farmington. From there Anna and Annie have created multiple items with thick threads. It’s a delight to see them create in their own spheres with the same tools and skill sets. 

My Annie thinks her ADD is a curse, but my old lady ADD brain sees the gift in it. She delights in all sorts of new and exciting ventures, her interests pinging off the walls of her creativity and her focus intense when the project is interesting to her. She accomplishes so much with her fragmented creativity. Her generous heart pulls her adoring niece along with her.

Last week, in honor of Dave’s retirement, both Annie and Anna crocheted gifts for Dad/Gumpa.

Annie created, without a pattern, a darling little Judge Connors Doll, with peppery gray hair and a little tie and adorable black judicial robes. It even has a little pair of mini glasses like Dave’s. It is so cute!

And Anna decided to crochet a collar for Gumpa’s real judicial robes that matched Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s.

The RBG collar Anna made for her Gumpa.
(Dave didn't wear his robes at his retirement open house)

Justice Ginsburg wore her famous collars to signify many things. But she said they first and foremost represented the power of the feminine to make well-reasoned choices. As only the second woman to sit on the US Supreme Court, she broke the common social tradition that women would wear suits, like men, to represent equality. She, bless her, insisted that the feminine which is often prominent in women is an asset to the court and should be celebrated rather than hidden. I love that David’s daughters and granddaughters understand and applaud how he has been, and continues to be, a champion for equity as well as equality, and that, at this time in history, we need to bend a little further to lift and encourage the feminine in the field of justice. Dave happily wore the collar Anna crocheted for him, with not even an inkling of “Eww, this is a GIRL thing”, just as comfortably as women have learned to wear suit jackets that were traditionally men’s wear.

It takes a confidently humble man to recognize  and rejoice in the divine and majestic nature of the feminine, which is often (but not exclusively) prominent in women. Dave is a nurturer of divine gifts. My girls, and boys, are eternally blessed by his example and tutelage.  And so am I.

Tess adores her Gumpa, in all forms.