"COLE"

This is a picture of Cole's LL Bean tote bag. He's had it since he was a baby, a gift from my mother. It is faded and a bit dirty and stained from markers and wear and tear. It is more than 10 years old, after all. This summer I saw a mom with her newborn. Over the handle of her pristine new stroller was a brand new navy and white tote bag, the exact same one, with the name "COLE" on it. I peeked in the stroller and a newborn Cole stared back at me. I thought of my Cole and my tote bag at home, and I was suddenly so aware of how relatively old my Cole was. Today he is 11. He will gradudate from primary school next spring; he has mastered many things, including reading and surfing the internet; he likes to memorize songs; he knows things about pop culture that I don't know; he has had three passports; he tells his friends secrets about girls; his face is changing but he still has a scar on his right cheek from an accident when he was 7. After 11 years, he has a personal history that includes love and loss. Seeing that brand new tote bag this summer and the baby Cole to whom it belonged reminded me of my Cole. I stopped the mom and told her briefly about my Cole and his similar tote bag. "Good luck," I said. "Enjoy every moment. It will go fast."

Cole turns 11!

Happy Birthday, Cole Bailey Besser!

4 Mile Fire

After almost a week, firefighters have finally gotten the upper hand in fighting the Four Mile Fire, the worst fire in Colorado's history. The destruction has been staggering: 169 homes burned; nearly 7,000 acres charred; tens of millions of dollars in lost property; hundreds of lives impacted. It was a long and sad week. We sat helpless for days under smokey skies that signaled great loss and destruction. On Thursday, the wind forecast was so bad that our neighborhood was warned of a possible evacuation. We went through the motions of gathering passports and photos and paperwork and jewelry. It seemed a bit surreal. By Friday, the scare was over and the skies had turned a brilliant blue and life, for us at least, seemed a bit normal again. Soccer games were held, school recess resumed outside, weekend events were confirmed.

Boulder is a small community. I think we were unprepared by how many people we knew were impacted by this fire. The serene mountain cabin where our friend Melinda lived and wrote last winter is gone; another friend's house was thought to be gone for most of the week, but somehow it was sparred; the boys' beloved summer camp, Colorado Mountain Ranch, is a site of catastrophic destruction. Meanwhile, the community of Boulder has responded. A store has been opened in the community to take donations. They are now completely overwhelmed by generous giving. A volunteer told me that most of the folks who have come in to pick up supplies are too numb to shop, taking very little. A man walked in the other day and asked for a single item: sweatpants. "I just want some sweatpants so that I can sit comfortably on my friend's couch and watch some TV." Many lives will not be back to normal for some time.