“There really is nothing as sweet as a child’s hand in yours — that gentle, trusting, eager hand. And the tiny face that looks at you like you’re the moon and the stars and the sun. Your heart breaks, and then it breaks more, and then it breaks again. It’s your heart walking around outside your body.” –Anne Lamott, Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son’s First Year
Lately, I’ve been crying—happy tears, mostly, but also those wistful ones that rise unexpectedly.
It’s a bittersweet time! You see, my youngest son, Finis—our “Mighty Fine”—will graduate from high school this Sunday. He is the third and final arrow to fly, the last son to leave the nest. For Jerry and me, it feels like the finish line of one great journey. For Fin, it’s just the beginning.
Finis was born 18 years ago with a head full of red hair and eyes so blue they stopped strangers in their tracks. From the moment I met him, I knew he was a little different. A noticer. A wise soul in a little boy’s body. He came into this world full of wonder, and he’s been surprising, delighting, and teaching me ever since.
From kindergarten through fifth grade, I walked Fin to and from school—his tiny hand in mine, his eyes scanning the world like a naturalist. He’d point out bugs on the sidewalk, birds overhead, the angle of the light, or how many Ford F-150s had passed by. He’d ask questions that stopped me mid-step: “Mommy, how many lives do we have?” or “When a man is old, how old is he?”
Those walks were sacred. Bookends to each day. Just me and my Fin. I knew, even then, that one day I’d blink and he’d be big—and setting out on his own. I was right. And here we are.
Over the years, I’ve kept notes of things Fin said—funny, insightful, and always unmistakably Fin.
Sometimes the conversations were touching. Sometimes hilarious. Once, while eating lunch together after preschool, he lovingly encouraged me: “Good job chewing like a cow, Mommy.” Another time, when I wore a dress—a rare occurrence—he paid me a compliment: “I like your costume, Mommy.” When asked in class to share a rule from his home, Fin proudly offered, “When we have to go to the bathroom, we have to use the toilet.”
Fin has always had a deep heart and a tender soul. When he was almost eight, his beloved boxelder bug, Reddy, died. He cried the whole walk to school. By the time we got there, we’d planned a proper burial. That afternoon, we held a ceremony and laid Reddy to rest in our backyard. His grave is still there. These were the kinds of things that mattered to Fin.
One Christmas, all he wanted was a “Very Red Fish.” He wrote to Santa about it. And when that fish arrived, the look on his face—pure, unfiltered joy—etched itself into my memory forever.
Another time, after scraping his knee during a rugged hike up Fossil Hill, a raven flew overhead. Fin, through tears, named him Charlie. He declared Charlie his spirit animal, sent to help him endure the pain. For years afterward, we’d return to that trail, hoping Charlie would appear again. He often did.
Fin has always loved animals—worms, bugs, birds, fish, and especially dogs. He used to dress our golden retriever, Buddy, in ski goggles, sweaters, and hats. Buddy, endlessly patient, wore it all without protest. On the Camino de Santiago, Fin pet every single dog we passed, greeting them like old friends.
Fin was always a cuddler. Before preschool, he’d crawl into my lap and ask for five more minutes of snuggles. If I said five, he’d ask for six. I always said yes. I knew someday he’d stop asking. (I sometimes ache for those moments—from a time that’s passed forever.)
During our morning walks to school, Fin and I invented a goodbye ritual—a set number of waves before we could part. Early on, it was nine waves, then seven, then five. By fifth grade, we were down to two. That year, during the last stretch of our walk, he stopped holding my hand but allowed me to put my arm around his shoulder. My heart cracked a little each time.
On the first day of fifth grade, he asked—so sweetly—if I could still walk him to school but let him walk home with his friends. I smiled and said yes. He was growing up, and he was easing me out gently and so thoughtfully.
Fin with our dog, Buddy, some years ago. They were tight!
Fin is a deep feeler. One morning, when he was 11 and feeling sad, he explained, “It feels like I have a bruise on my heart.” As a little boy, when Fin cried, his tears flew off his face like mist off a waterfall.
Fin is clever, too. At age seven, during a three-summit hike that kicked off a month-long road trip from Vancouver, B. C., to Los Angeles, I asked Fin to smile for a photo. “But then I’d be lying,” he muttered. Later, once we reached the first summit, he managed a reluctant smile, explaining, “I’ll smile, but really, it’s an upside-down frown.”
When he was nine, on our first family trip to Europe, we traveled through eight countries in thirty days. In Switzerland, after a long travel day and a two-mile walk from the train station to our hotel, Fin wailed dramatically to passing tourists, “Mommy, Daddy, I think my ribs are breaking!” But the next morning, with regular feeding stops along the way—pizza, fondue, Coca-Cola, hot chocolate—he hiked 24 miles through the Alps like a champ.
The youngest of three boys, Fin had to be resourceful in finding space just for himself.
Over the years, as our boys became men, our family grew too big for one hotel room. When we traveled, the older brothers didn’t want to share their beds with their little brother, so Fin would search for and claim the best nooks and crannies to sleep in. Under desks, inside closets, even at the foot of the beds—he never complained. Instead, he made a game of it, taking pride in finding the coziest and most creative sleeping spots.
Our family loves going to sand dunes, and over the years, we’ve visited many throughout the U. S. When Fin was younger and significantly smaller than his two older brothers, Hayden and Wolf would each grab Fin’s arms and legs, swinging him back and forth, picking up momentum before finally launching him over the top of a sand dune.
Fin was always a good sport, laughing as he tumbled down the sandy slopes. This wouldn’t be possible now, as Fin has outgrown them both—his passion for bodybuilding has made him the biggest of the bros.
Fin gets his name from Finis Mitchell, the legendary mountaineer of the Wind River Range. Like his namesake, our Finis is adventurous. He’s been an outdoorsman his entire life.
We backpacked 160 miles of the Camino de Santiago in northern Spain when Fin was just 11—logging several consecutive 20-mile days—and he rarely complained. At 12, he trekked across glaciers and scrambled up volcanoes in Iceland. And of course, we raised him on epic hikes, llama-packing, and backpacking trips in our beloved Wind Rivers. Even when he didn’t want to go, he always seemed happy once he was out there—arms swinging.
On a Labor Day trip to Clear Lake when he was seven, Fin’s entire load was inside his tiny fanny pack. Inside it, he carried only a small bag of Cheetos and a bottle of Root Beer. The rest of us complained loudly and often under our heavy and towering packs. Fin zipped ahead gleefully, then sprinted back, shouting, “My back doesn’t hurt at all!”
Eventually, Fin carried larger loads and he often remarks that his (outsized) trapezius muscles–his “traps”–are the result of a lifetime spent hiking with a backpack on.
Looking dapper and all grown up. (Photo taken by my oldest son, Wolf, before Fin’s senior prom with his girlfriend, Ava.)
Food has always been Fin’s love language. When he went to the movies with my dad—his Poppop—he’d choose Red Vines for a snack. But if Poppop asked for one, Fin would think about it before offering the half-eaten one out of his hand.
After a particularly dusty camping trip, we checked into a fancy hotel. Standing on the marble floors in the pristine lobby, covered in grit and grime, Fin inhaled deeply and said, “I love the smell of hotel air.” Pure Fin. We still quote that line every time we transition from wild to comfort.
When he was little, Fin dreamed big. He wanted to own a junkyard and be an inventor. He also wanted to live in an airport so he could enjoy a range of “tasty foods” and travel anywhere, anytime. When he was in third grade, for a favorite travel memory assignment, Fin wrote:
“There are many smells in Las Vegas, such as smoke, hot asphalt—like a warm car, somewhat like an ocean—and crispy fast food. The smell of fast food was so good—I could live off it!”
Fin still has his childlike wonder—it’s just wrapped in a six-foot frame now.
He stands six feet tall and weighs 185 pounds. His passion is bodybuilding, and I’m inspired by his work ethic and dedication. Fin has competed in two natural/OCB bodybuilding contests and earned medals in both. His next competition will be in Denver this August, and he’s hoping to achieve Pro status.
It’s been quite a journey—and team effort—for us to keep him fed and adequately fueled. Whenever Fin returns from the gym, we instruct him, “Let’s see our muscles.” (Jerry and I fast until 5 p.m. every day because, with Fin’s appetite and protein requirements, we can’t afford to feed all three of us throughout the day. Well not quite, but also not far off!)
Fin, during a Clear Lake Labor Day backpacking adventure in 2010.
Fin is also a gifted artist and talented potter. He recently won first place at both the Wyoming State Art Symposium and the Lander Valley High School Art Symposium for his “horse hair” pottery. His pottery creations are proudly displayed throughout our home.
Fin also loves playing tennis, basketball, paddleboarding, surfing, being pulled behind the boat on a tube, stargazing, playing video games, hanging out with his girlfriend Ava, spending time with his friends and brothers, and playing with our dog, Chewy.
He’s become a leader, known for the positive impact he has on younger kids. This summer, he’ll return to work for Lander Parks & Rec, teaching tennis and helping run the kids’ activities program. He’ll also help lead Sinks Canyon Camp, and he was selected as a Junior Counselor for the Young RYLA (Rotary Youth Leadership Association) week-long camp in Estes Park, Colorado.
In the fall, Fin will attend Central Wyoming College. He’s earned various scholarships, including the CWC Ambassador Scholarship. We’re so proud of him!
I’m grateful he won’t be far away—but our home will sure feel different without Fin here. For the past five years, it’s been just the three of us: Jerry, Fin, and me.
It has been one of the greatest joys of my life to raise Fin and I’m so proud of the human and the leader he is becoming.
Finis: You are the best Fin in the universe, and I love you more than life itself!
Thank you for being my boy. For teaching me to notice. For letting me walk beside you all these years.
Congratulations! We can’t wait to watch you soar.
With all my love (and more),
Lil’ Mommy / Mum-Bruv / Mum
Yay for mac & cheese!
The way Fin feels when he’s near water, especially the ocean.
Here’s a timelapse video of the daily photos I captured of Fin every morning before school during his senior year:
“And she loved a little boy very, very much—even more than she loved herself.”–Shel Silverstein
Snuggling my Hayden.
It was March 15 at around lunchtime when I first met my son, Hayden Isaac. He had bright blue eyes and a head full of unruly white hair. He was adorable and absolutely perfect. I’ll never forget those initial moments and days of Hayden’s life and the way it felt to be his mother. I gazed into his eyes and nuzzled his little cheeks and experienced enormous love.
I still feel the same sense of wonder when I look into Hayden’s eyes, whether it’s when I’m waking him up and trying to cajole him out of bed each morning, or listening to him share about something during dinner, or anytime we’re in a conversation. I watch him when he’s not looking, too, sneaking glimpses from a distance, and I try to hold onto these observations of my Hayden for when he’s away at college in the Fall.
And now, we are celebrating the high school graduation of Hayden. His high school graduation ceremony was originally scheduled for May 17, but due to the COVID19 pandemic, it has been rescheduled for June 14.
Regardless, we have much to celebrate, and I would like to share some thoughts as I reflect on my wonderful son, Hayden–or as I sometimes call him, “Hayday.”
The “raising” of our Hayden seems to have happened in a blink of an eye.
It seems like just yesterday that Hayden was in the toddler backpack, so near me, looking over my shoulders exclaiming into my ear as he pointed out, excitedly, butterflies (“buttflies”) and bugs and cool rocks or trees that he spied as we explored the woods together. His enthusiasm brought me such delight, and I saw many wonders on the trail that I would have missed if not for Hayden pointing them out to me during those many early adventures.
Hayden is the second of our three sons. (His brothers are Wolf, 20, and Fin, 13.) Hayden gets his name from the late Ferdinand Hayden, a geologist who in 1871, led America’s first federally-funded geological survey of the Yellowstone region. Perhaps it’s no wonder, then, that Hayden is such an outdoorsman.
Hayden was born an adventurous soul. On his first day of preschool, he had a blue thread of stitches in his lower lip, which the day before had split open when he fell while jumping off the picnic table in the backyard. On our hundreds of family hikes, Hayden would take detours from the trail to climb boulders and/or stumps, etc. When he was 16, he embarked on a 21-day National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) rock climbing course deep in Wyoming’s Wind River Range, which solidified his love of climbing and the outdoors.
Hayden, on a hike in his early years.
Speaking of hiking and the outdoors, when our three sons were little, my husband, Jerry, and I would play “trail fairy.” To lure our young boys and their little legs up the trail, we’d plant little treats and notes along the trail for our boys to find. These notes and treats from the trail fairy served to encourage the boys when they were complaining about the hard effort and wanted to quit.
Our family has many favorite hikes and routes in the foothills above Lander that are dotted with big rocks that are personal landmarks for us. These landmarks represent places we’d stop for brief rests during our hikes when the boys were little. These landmarks have names like Root Beer Rock, Skittles Rock, and Butterfinger Rock. Butterfinger Rock is the rock we named for Hayden, and all these years later, we continue to hike by and take rests at/on Butterfinger Rock.
These days, even as an avid hiker, I am the one who needs a trail fairy! I can hardly keep up with Hayden on the trail. Recently he and I went on a hard hike that involved climbing up to some caves. Even though Hayden slowed his pace for me, I struggled to keep up. He is kind, though, and during our hikes, Hayden looks back to check on his “Mum,” and he waits for me to catch up.
Hayden’s not only an excellent outdoorsman but also a generous one. On backpacking trips or overnight trips to our cabin, Hayden is always happy to carry extra weight in his pack to lighten my load. Hayden is not only generous but tough! During our family’s backpacking pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago in the summer of 2018, Hayden carried his full backpack while trekking 20-mile days with terrible blisters on his feet and Achilles tendonitis, without complaint.
Speaking of lightening loads, Hayden has always been very capable and independent. I can’t remember a time we’ve had to lighten Hayden’s load for him. Except for having to push him out of bed almost every school morning for 12 years, Hayden has not required much pushing or assistance from us. During these last few years, I’ve noticed myself inserting myself in Hayden’s life, doing things for him that he doesn’t need or expect me to do, simply so I can experience more time with him.
Hayden loves his friends. He has had the same best friends since middle school and they’ve become like part of our family. Our dog, Buddy, is also one of Hayden’s best friends, and they spend a lot of time together.
Hayden, with his Buddy.
Hayden is the second of our three sons.(His brothers are Wolf, 20, and Fin, 13.) Because Hayden is a second child, I have that in common with him. I think because we’re both second in the birth order, I relate to him in a special way.
Hayden is a competitor. He loves competition. For years, our family has played the game, Apples to Apples, and Hayden almost always wins. He loves winning and has a gift when it comes to persuasion. A poem Hayden likes is “The Great Competitor,” by Grantland Rice. I love this particular verse, which reminds me of Hayden: Where others wither in the fire | Or fall before some raw mishap | Where others lag behind or tire | And break beneath the handicap | He finds a new and deeper thrill | To take him on the uphill spin | Because the test is greater still | And something he can revel in.
Hayden is a tremendous athlete. I remember working hard to get back in shape after Hayden was born, and I have vivid memories of being on the elliptical trainer in our basement, stepping and sweating while talking to Hayden, who was nearby in his “Exersaucer” bouncing away and talking to me as we exercised together.
As a result of the COVID19 pandemic, many are missing the ability to participate and watch sports. This is particularly hard for our Hayden, who is such a sports enthusiast. In his last two years of high school, he ran cross country and indoor and outdoor track. Unfortunately, due to the pandemic, Hayden missed his senior outdoor track season and the opportunity to go to two NBA games, one that was a birthday gift and one that was to be a graduation gift. He is a real student and lover of the game of basketball, and while he didn’t play basketball in his last two years of high school, it continues to be one of his favorite sports and pastimes. When the snow melts every spring, Hayden can most likely be found playing basketball at one of the local playgrounds, usually with his brothers. In addition to hiking, running, and playing basketball, Hayden loves rock climbing, skiing, and snowboarding. He also enjoys playing disc golf, and usually wins our family disc golf games.
Our handsome Hayden.
Hayden is a foodie. As a family, we have traveled to 11 countries in the last four years and a highlight for Hayden is enjoying the myriad of exotic foods. He’s also become a great baker. As a toddler, Hayden wanted to be a “cupcake maker” when he grew up, and while his dreams have changed, for years he has been our family’s designated cake maker for birthdays and special occasions. He has a big sweet tooth and that is probably my fault because when I was pregnant with Hayden, I set a world record for how many butterscotch malts a woman could eat in 9 months. I should add that Hayden is the only member of our family who can eat more s’mores in a single sitting than I can, which is saying a lot!
Hayden is a hard worker and loves making money (what he calls “bread”), and he’s good at managing his earnings. In 2016, our family traveled to Europe where we explored 8 countries over the course of 30 days. After starting our trip over budget (due in large part to not being able to satisfy the hunger of our three growing sons), we asked Hayden to manage the family’s daily food budget. Whether he enjoyed that responsibility or not, he did a fantastic job and kept us on budget for the remainder of our trip.
Hayden is funny and quick-witted. He is also very knowledgeable. Since he was old enough to talk, Hayden has been known for sharing interesting tidbits about a wide range of topics. I remember when he was about five or six years old, at breakfast, Hayden informed us, “Did you know girls pass more gas than boys? It’s a fact,” he said, laughing, and even citing the statistic’s source. I remember camping one time with him and I was enamored by a hummingbird that kept hovering over our site, and Hayden informed me, “Did you know that an NBA point guard when dribbling the ball with both hands as low to the ground as possible, can dribble faster than the wingbeat of a hummingbird?” No, I did not know that. 😊
Hayden, famous still for his hair. 😉
Another time, while hiking up a hill, with backpacks that were unreasonably big and heavy, I remarked how we were like ants, walking slowly under great loads on our back, and Hayden responded, “Actually if we were ants, our loads would be much heavier because ants can carry 10 times their body weight on their backs.” We then discussed how grateful we were that our loads were not 1,150 pounds and 1,350 pounds respectively. Hayden suggested how cool it would be if we had some ants around to carry our loads. We figured if we wanted a 70-pound load carried in for each of us, all it would require would be two 7-pound ants.
Most recently, after I returned home from the local greenhouse with a truck full of soil, some starter plants, packets of seeds, and some potatoes to plant, Hayden quipped, “It is good you will be planting some potatoes. Apparently they’re impossible to not successfully grow. They can grow on Mars.”
Hayden is a phenomenal critical thinker. We have always heard from his teachers that he is a great thinker and contributor in class discussions. And while Hayden doesn’t love reading, he is inspired when reading a thought-provoking book or story. (Crime and Punishment, etc.) He thinks of things that the rest of us overlook and I love hearing his thoughts during dinner conversations about various books he was required to read for AP Lit, or about current events he had to make arguments for or against in Government and other classes. When Hayden took Anatomy, he shared a lot with us at the dinner table about muscles and physiology, and I think his experience in that class largely inspired his interest in pursuing a future occupation in Physical Therapy. (I think if Hayden didn’t want to be a physical therapist, he would make a fantastic writer, attorney, or film critic, among many other career possibilities.)
Hayden is famous for taking polar plunges in any mountain lakes we hike by, camp by or drive by.
Hayden is principled and is an excellent leader. In addition to being a NOLS graduate, he was a leader for a youth nature camp, attended the Rotary Youth Leadership camp, was in the student council for 4 years, and has volunteered to help lead various youth events. He’s been a referee for youth basketball games, worked at a local physical therapy office, and mowed lawns and shoveled walks for many members of our community. He is also part of Interact, a youth club that volunteers on projects that benefit our community.
In 2016, I took Hayden on a Mother-Son Epic Backpacking adventure. During our 4 days in the wilderness together, we had a fantastic adventure and shared meaningful conversations that I will never forget.
During that adventure, Hayden did a solitary climb of Mitchell Peak, and as he climbed the mountain, I sat on a rock and reflected on Hayden and on being his mother. While reflecting, I came up with these words to describe Hayden, using the letters of his name, and they still fit: H is for honorable (Hayden has always been principled, and inspired by men and women of honor), Amazing (he probably prefers the word awesome, but given the song, Amazing Grace, has such a place in his early life and our relationship, I am going with Amazing), Y for youthful (he’s great at getting down on the ground and playing with younger kids at their level), D is for Determined (once Hayden sets his mind to something, he pursues it with a dogged determination), E is for Eater (no explanation needed), and finally, N is for Night owl (poor Hayden, he’s a night owl in a family of early risers.)
We are so proud of Hayden for winning the prestigious Daniels Fund scholarship! He will be attending the University of Wyoming Honors College in the Fall, where he plans to major in kinesiology before eventually pursuing his doctorate in Physical Therapy. We are so excited for Hayden and his future!
Nothing but blue skies ahead…
There is an essay called On Children, by Kahlil Gibran in his wonderful book The Prophet, which has been influential in my life. I turn to it often for wisdom and to find comfort.
ON CHILDREN, by Kahlil Gibran
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
As this milestone in Hayden’s life has approached, I have teetered between feeling nostalgic and feeling celebratory. Even though Hayden’s high school graduation is cause for an Epic celebration, I’m feeling emotional. I have had some (many) tears while reflecting on my Hayden while writing this blog post. Thankfully, I’ve determined that when I’m feeling sad, it’s about me, and when I’m feeling excited, it’s about Hayden.
I will miss seeing my Hayden every day and his presence in our home, and yet I’m so excited for him to find his own way and to soar. I’m working to be the (stable) bow from which Hayden is sent forth. Its bending is for gladness. He is going places!
Congratulations to my amazing “Hayday!” We are so proud of you. You are the best Hayden in the Universe, and I love you more than life itself! All my love, and more, Your “Mum”
For kicks, I took a photo of Hayden (almost) every school morning during his senior year. This is his 12th school year in 24 Seconds:
Hayden, with his brothers, and Buddy.
Hayden, with his goofball family, after an epic–and muddy–hike in Kauai during our 2019 Spring break.
