Voodoo Christmas

This Christmas we went home to Oregon. I don't know what it is about Oregon that sends me into an overall hibernating state upon arrival, well yeah, wait, I do: it is the rainy, gloomy, overcast-y and Mordor-like climate. All I want to do in Oregon is curl up in a ball, surround myself with Little Debbie Snacks and not come out until the sun comes out. So, this overall need to feed drove Jake and I back into the loving arms of Voodoo Doughnuts in Portland. I may have taken more pictures of these doughnuts than my children over Christmas.

The 10th year anniversary gift is, according to google, supposed to be tin. No thanks. We declared the tenth year of our marriage the year of the doughnut. So much more appealing, and not to mention, easier to digest.




Behold the Memphis Mafia: Banana fritter, drizzled with peanut butter, chocolate, chocolate chips and peanuts. In short: HEAVEN.

Oh, and I am pretty sure this thing has magical powers.

Yes, I have no shame, and to add to the indulgence, I am writing this to you as I eat Oreo's while listening to "The Biggest Loser" in the background.

I am pretty sure that I injured my jaw in the process. I sacrifice my body for food, in more ways than one. ;)

O.K., I guess that I have given enough attention to the doughnuts. On to Christmas Day. Olivia, my dear sweet child woke up at 5:30am, jump-starting our Christmas morning. If you are wondering why it looks like we are opening up presents at midnight it is because when it is not dreary in Oregon it is dark. These pictures were taken at 7:00am.



Have you ever wondered if people actually purchase any of the crazy products from "Sky Mall Magazine?" I am here to testify that people do order things from that magazine, and those people are my parents. The Product: R2-D2; The Receiver: Oscar; The Result: Pure entertainment.

It was love at first site.

Behold, R2-D2 the robot. Yes, a battery operated droid that is two feet tall, responds to over 40 commands, plays hide and go seek with you, and plays some of the best Star Wars Techno Music if you say "Hey, R2! Game Mode. Dance Program." This feature alone was well worth lugging this puppy home on a plane.

Getting the thing to work was a little tricky at first.

Did I mention that he can bring you a beverage? No need to leave your chair.

My dad, having a heart to heart with R2, priceless.

"R2-D2 Olesen" is the last and final addition to our family. Our family is now complete. This is the only "child" at this time that will actually listen to me. Thank you Mom and Dad we LOVE him.? It.?

On one of the nights we were home, The Gabels (close family friends of ours, that are basically our "extended family") came over for pizza, presents, and a chocolate gannache cake from Beaverton Bakery. The lovely and ever so talented Ms. Susan made Olivia a tutu and Oscar a Batman Cape for Christmas. (Oscar was in heaven because he got two Superhero capes for Christmas, the other fabulous Superman cape, pictured above, was made by my crafty sister.)

Silver Fox Sr. (My mother) and Susan. It amazes me how much I look like my mom.

Livy didn't put on her tutu right away, so I put it on my head.

Oh, that's how it goes.

Me and Nikki.

My dad, sporting the Batman cape the wrong way.

So there is no easy way to transition into the next part of my post, so I will just dive into it head first. This wasn't your typical Christmas. Just before coming home from Anguilla I found out that my brother Seth, who most of you know is handicapped, has cancer and is dying. As soon as I received the news I wanted to get home and see my brother one more time before he dies. It was hard to be home. It was hard to see Seth in chronic pain. It was hard for me to see my parents struggle as they try to make Seth's last days comfortable and as painless as possible. It was hard for me to see my parent's physically and emotionally exhausted. I took my camera home with the sole purpose of capturing my brother so that my parents could remember every aspect of him, but I wasn't prepared for what I was coming home to. It wasn't the same Seth. It was hard for me to see my brother, who was always eager to give a hug, easy to get to smile and laugh, not even crack a smile while I was there. He has never been able to use any words to communicate, but it was that smile and his dimples that reassured us of him feeling some sort of happiness. It was his smile that always put into perspective the purpose of this life. His smile and knowing glance heavenwards is what I will remember most. No matter how hard it seemed at times to have him in our home, he always brought us closer to God and closer together as a family. He, to me, is the perfect brother trapped in an imperfect body. I know of no greater teacher in my life thus far that has taught me more than my brother has. He is a teacher who needs no words. He has taught me more about patience, perseverance, hope, and unconditional love than anyone. He has made better every person he has ever known, and that is a gift.

When he dies it will be bitter-sweet. Our family has always been centered around Seth, this is what it is like when you have a child with Special needs, and I can't imagine him not in it. It hasn't been the easiest life for Seth, and the past 34 years has not been easy for my parents. As this chapter closes in our lives we will look back with thankfulness for the time we have been given to have with Seth, to love him and learn from him; We will also look forward with hope and faith in God for the day when we will be reunited with him.


I love you Sethie.