Today marked my brother’s 59th birthday. Celebrating it without him here brought both sadness and joy. Sadness that he isn’t here with us, but joy in the many wonderful memories we hold tightly to.

On his 18th birthday he fulfilled his greatest dream: to jump out of an airplane. Skydiving from that day forward became one of his greatest passions. I never could understand this love he had for the sport, but I loved watching him make jumps, holding my breath in the free fall until finally I could see his sky blue parachute open for his gentle decent to the ground.

This morning I received an unexpected text from a relative in California who knew my brother well and had seen him skydive in year’s past. While driving along the coastline, she looked up into the sky only to see a lone skydiver, enjoying a beautiful morning in the sky.

Knowing it was my brother’s birthday, he came to her mind immediately and she snapped a picture to share with me. I saw it and my heart skipped a beat. Signs and wonders. These are the things that sustain me in my grief. They bring comfort and assurance that while he is no longer here on this earth, he is still near.

Happy Birthday, Don. You are so greatly missed, but will never be forgotten.

Oh, kindergartners! They never cease to stop me in my tracks and amaze me with their wit, their curiosity, and their outlook on life. Today, after our reread of Pout Pout Fish Goes to School, I posed the question, “Boys and girls, what makes you pout?” Here are a few responses they gave…

“I pout when my mom doesn’t give me what I want.”
“I pout when I fall off my bike when trying to ride without training wheels.”
“I pout when I have to take a 1-hour nap.”
“I pout when my friend snatches something away from me.”
“I pout when I can’t go to my friend’s house to play.”

On the flip side, I then asked them to consider what makes them happy. Here is what I heard…

“I am happy when I get to cook with my mommy.”
“I am happy when mom takes the band-aids off my owies.”
“I am happy when I can ride my bike without my training wheels.”
“I am happy when my mom gives me a drink.”
“I am happy when I have a friend.”

As adults, I think we can relate to many of these kindergarten observations of real-life moments when we are feeling particularly pouty, or joyfully happy in the comings and goings of life. Can we remember the frustrations of learning to ride our bike without training wheels? And nap time? Come on, mom, seriously?! These off-the-cuff responses cause me to realized that the simplest things of life are real and deeply meaningful to a 5 year-old. And you know, despite the complexity of the adult challenges I face in life these days, they are often just as meaningful to this 50 year-old. I mean, who isn’t happy when they have a friend?

So tell me…what makes you pout? What makes you happy?

The carpets are cleaned, the tables are scrubbed, and the brand new supplies are ready to be opened. Day 1 in my kindergarten class starts today! Many days of preparing have preceded this exciting day, and I can truthfully say that I am ready. Ready to welcome 20 new little learners into a world of wonder, excitement, and joy. I hope that these three elements lead us through all of the learning that is before us.

I want my learners to wonder about the world around them. Wonder and ask LOTS of questions that everyone in our learning community can invest themselves in as together, we uncover answers to lots and lots of Wonders.

I want my learners to be excited about learning. There is nothing like the enthusiasm of 5 and 6 year-olds. The world before them is yet to be completely discovered, and in our classroom, I hope that each day is a new day of discovery and excitement in our 180 day journey together.

I want my learners to discover JOY in our classroom. Joy in sharing what they know, and joy in uncovering what they don’t. Joy in reading a book that makes them laugh. Joy in writing their first poem. Joy in taking a risk, and discovering even if they make a mistake, that mistakes are proof they are trying.

180 days lie ahead of us; untouched, undiscovered, and unknown. And I can’t wait to see what is in store for each of us!

I have been away from my blog since the sudden and very unexpected loss of my big brother on May 25. While biking up the Going To The Sun Road in Glacier National Park, he suffered an apparent cardiac arrest, and died instantly.

Nothing can prepare you for such a tragedy. The utter shock and sadness in such a sudden, significant loss leaves a gaping hole that just can’t ever be filled in the same way.

But my brother would not want me to go on and on about our family’s sadness. He would not want the focus of his death to be clouded in sorrow. He would instead want us to focus on living life to the fullest – making every moment from each and every day count. This is what my brother did better than anyone else I know.

At his memorial, and even in the days after, I cannot count the number of people who shared how their lives were impacted by my brother. As a hockey referee, he was a calm, professional presence on the ice. He especially loved mentoring young referees as they navigated the often tricky moments of making the necessary calls in a game. Everyone loved when he took the ice, and had enormous respect for him as an official. In his job at Glacier High School, he was remembered for how he brought joy to everyone he encountered, always more interested in what others wanted to share than his own stories. His love of adventure was evident in all that he did; skydiving since the age of 18, kayaking, fishing, hiking, and cycling to name just a few of his passions.

Memories are my greatest source of comfort now as I transition into life without him here. It’s funny how I reflect on them in a different way though. I see the amazing way Don had of appreciating every moment in life that mattered. While my mind was more often focusing on the next thing I needed to do, or the next event that was coming up, his attention always remained right there in the moment. You could see it in his demeanor in the way he would just stop and take in the beauty of what was around him. You could hear it in the simple things he said about whatever we were doing together. And you could feel it just being with him; he had such a unique way of exuding a genuine satisfaction and happiness in every moment that he lived.

I sense his presence with me so much in these days since he died, gently helping me refocus my gaze in a different way, allowing me to capture moments in a deeper, more meaningful way. I want to keep this perspective and awareness always.

My greatest desires now are to see the world around me through my brother’s eyes, to connect with others around me with my brother’s heart, and to live each day to the fullest, chasing my dreams the way he did, and finding joy in all that I do until I see him again.

While it is impossible to fully represent the amazing life my brother lived, I share this slideshow with you as a glimpse of the big brother I was blessed to have. It encapsulates the highlights of a life lived to the fullest, of dreams sought and found, and reveals a man who was the greatest husband, father, brother, son, and friend to so many who count themselves fortunate to have known him. You can view it here.

The view from what will forever be known as Don Graham’s site, located just past the Weeping Wall & Big Bend on Going To The Sun Road in Glacier National Park.