v a u g h n a u s t i n

I’ve been waiting all year for this post. And here we are, on December 1st, just as planned. Now I can finally say Merry Christmas!!

Serious rewind, here…

It was 1991, and I was a sophomore at Purdue University. When Christmas rolled around, I was painfully low on cash. I wasn’t sure what to do for my family for Christmas that year. I had been doing a lot of creative writing over the last few years, so I came up with the idea of writing a Christmas short story. Little was I to know that so many feelings… so much of me… would find its way into the story. When I read the story to my family Christmas night, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. It was a beautiful moment — one that I will remember forever!

Now, fast forward nine years…

It was the year 2000. I had spent almost every waking moment that year writing music for a studio band that I was in, so I decided to attempt writing a Christmas carol for my family’s traditional talent show that we do every year on Christmas night. Easy stuff, right? Ha! I was only able to write a couple verses in the few hours that I had, but it went over really well. It was fun when I asked my family to sing along after having only heard the song for the first time just a few moments before! I wasn’t even sure what key the song was in!

Well, the next year, I had a little surprise up my sleeve. Starting in late summer, I began collaborating with Brian Hazard of Color Theory to finish the song. It wasn’t easy writing a traditional-style Christmas carol — trying to capture the true warmth and magic of the season without being too cheesy — but it was incredibly rewarding when we finally wrapped it up! And what a wonderful surprise for my family that year! I couldn’t even wait for the talent show Christmas night. Christmas Eve hit and I was all aglow… I just had to share!

I had really started getting into the spirit of Christmas early that year and it was a long wait until December 25th! Since I had a small recording studio in my home, I had also decided to record an audio version of my Christmas story. It had gone through a lot of small revisions over the last ten years, but it was time to finally put it in stone. So, while I was working with Brian on the Christmas carol, I decided to ask him to write a short instrumental to include in the audio version of my story. It was designed as a companion song to my carol, but was meant to capture the deeper, more personal side of Christmas. I swear there was such an amazing degree of divine intervention involved, because Brian created the song with very little direction from me; yet, as I began to piece everything together — layering his music in with my reading — I must have cried a dozen times out of sheer joy! The timing and overall feeling of the music matched the storyline perfectly! Bravo!

Please visit Brian’s site at colortheory.com — beautiful music from an incredibly talented individual!

I am sharing these two productions with you simply because I love Christmas and I hope they will somehow touch you the way they have me all these years. Please feel free to share this site with anyone and everyone — it’s a great way to help your loved ones get in their spirit! Christmas is such a beautiful season! It brings out the best in us… reminds us of everything we take for granted.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Listen to the original Christmas carol and read the lyrics here: The Magic of Christmas

Read the original Christmas short story and listen to the audio version here: The Warmth of My Santa’s Beard

These pages will forever be available in the sidebar under Pages, so feel free to share the web address.

Lance’s parents, henceforth referred to as Granmom and Grandad, finally got to meet their beautiful grandson! In related news, the aforementioned happy grandparents are now Austin residents and we’re all amazed at the Lord’s grace. We had a wonderful Thanksgiving celebration at Kristin’s parents, henceforth referred to as Amma and Papa, and are looking forward to eating turkey sandwiches and putting up Christmas decorations. Yay!!!

Music by Air

Some pictures really do speak a thousand words…

Benjamin was delivered via an unplanned Cesarean after nine hours of active labor. One in five deliveries end in unplanned Cesareans, because they are often the safest way to deal with any complications that may occur during labor. It’s never an ideal scenario, of course, but we are thankful for the excellent medical staff and overjoyed that Benjamin is healthy and beautiful! We are happy to be home and getting back into a routine. Thank you, everyone, for your prayers and congratulations over the last several days.

Music by Creed.

Born October 26, 2007 @ 5:52pm. 7 lbs 14 oz. 19.5″. Mom and baby are both healthy and happy!!!

Kristin and I are at the hospital today and, God willing, Benjamin will soon be in our arms.

Click on the link below to view the latest photos from my camera phone. As soon as I get a chance, I’ll upload some higher resolution photos for your viewing pleasure and maybe even a video or two. Until then, please say a prayer for Kristin and Benjamin… and me, too… and don’t forget the entire hospital staff, from doc to janitor!!

View up-to-the-minute photos…

Three weeks and counting…

We were absolutely delighted to have Lance’s parents, Larry and Lea, stay with us for two weeks in September. We really enjoyed showing them some of our favorite places in Austin. They did some house hunting while they were here. Mostly, though, we just hung out and visited and cooked and ate. It was a wonderful time and we hope to see them again real soon!

The above photo was taken at Trattoria Lisina at the Mandola Estate Winery. It’s like a little piece of Italy nestled in the Texas Hill Country. Since our climate is similar to Southern Italy and Sicily, they’re able to grow such vines as Montepulciano, Moscato, Barbera, and Sangiovese. Awesome!

Angel was my best friend. She had a special place in my heart that will forever be reserved for her. We shared so many good times playing and cuddling and she always seemed to want more. More love, more time, more playing, more of me and more of life.

She was so smart. We would always say she seemed almost human. The way she would look at you and listen to you. I didn’t have to use commands with her. Instead of “come” or any other standard command, I would just say “okay.” She always knew what I meant or what I wanted. She didn’t need a leash when we went to the park to play. I would even let her chase a rabbit or deer and she would return to me as soon as I called for her. Her favorite word was “frisbee” and she knew the difference between her “frisbee”, her “ball” and her squeaky “toy.”

She used to make me laugh. We would lay on the floor together and look into one another’s eyes. Often, she would kiss me with just one lick, like a peck on the cheek to say “I love you.” Sometimes Kristin would walk by and say “Quit making out with your dog.” This memory still makes me laugh. These moments became more and more special these last few years as she, instead, would sleep on the floor near my side of the bed. I would often lean over and pet her in the middle of the night or hang my leg over the side just to feel her fur. These last few mornings as I arose after her passing, I would instinctively look for her on the floor before stepping down. What heart-breaking sadness to welcome you in the morning. Where is my best friend?

When she was a puppy, she would play with boundless energy, but in her final few years, her body would tire so quickly. My father got to play frisbee with her a few days before she passed, and she was done after a few quick throws. The doc and I speculated this was simply arthritis kicking in, but it very well may have been an issue with her heart. The doc reviewed her charts and blood work results when I delivered Angel’s body to the vet and could find nothing that could have indicated a serious concern. She labeled it “sudden death” and could only express her condolences for my loss. I will never forget the way her cheek felt against my lips when I bent over to deliver my final kiss. So long, my friend. Could she tell that Kristin was pregnant? Did she know that she’d get less attention in the years to come? Was she in pain? Was she sad? Didn’t she know how much she was loved… how special she was???

She really loved pig ears and was able to enjoy this special treat on her last day. She hadn’t had one in a month or so and she was so excited when we returned from the grocery store with a bag full of them! This will probably be one of my most powerful memories of her, because we went outside that night and sat in the grass together while she ate it. I’m still not sure why I did that, but I am so happy I did. I savored the moment. I told her how pretty she was. I told her I love her. These things I did nearly every day. Surely she knew. This was our final quality moment together, just the two of us. After she was done with her treat, we just sat there in the grass and looked around at the birds and butterflies while I rested my hand on her shoulders.

Later that night, while we watched home movies on the big screen, she played with Ruthie a little and tossed her toy around on the floor in front of us. She walked up to me as she so often did while we watched TV. Usually, I would pick her up and hold her in my arms for a few minutes. That final night, though, I didn’t. Not enough room. Too much going on. Instead, I just held her head in my hands and touched her face, which was continuing to gray more and more everyday. Her face was so expressive! She could make you feel happy or guilty with the glance of an eye. Her ears were so soft and playful. Her little furry head seemed to tell a million stories. They were her voice and they were perfect in every way. I will always wonder what she was thinking that night as she looked at me. Was she trying to tell me she wasn’t feeling well?

She had seemed more and more forlorn her last few months. I had a full set of bloodwork done on her two months ago and her kidney had produced some results of slight concern. We put her on a new diet and the doc gave me some pain killers for her in hopes of helping with her “suspect” arthritic behavior. I can only pray that these pain killers made her passing a little easier. The doc assured me they were the safest available and easy on her kidney. When she passed, she was due for a follow-up exam and I may never forgive myself for not getting her in sooner to run more tests.

Regrets. Of course. These are the hardest. I wasn’t the perfect daddy. So many times she wanted to play but was asked to go lay down. So many times she wanted something. Even my final moments with her — after she had passed — are laden with regrets. I didn’t ask the vet to run blood work on her to discover the cause of death, but now in the WHY-WHY-WHY, I can find no answer. Instead of electing to keep her ashes, I just let her go, to be cremated with who knows how many others. Now I find myself wishing I had kept her remains so that I could spread them along the greenbelt behind our house. Then there would be some sense of her being with me when I stepped into my backyard in all the years to come. The list seems to go on forever and, as though programmed, I just keep repeating the old adage “Take nothing for granted. Take nothing for granted.” Still, no solace.

I am Christian and I will work through this. With prayer, I will eventually come to terms with it all, I know. Perhaps this was simply her time. My uncle Dave sent me a note that really resonated with me. Sometimes we lose something in order to make room for something else. It’s a simple thought, but it runs deep with me today.

She had a full day planned for the day that she passed. She was going to go to her doggy day care where she got to play with other dogs and socialize once a week. She really seemed to enjoy these days and would come home refreshed and eager to be back home where she could relax and hang with her family.

I had also promised her Thursday night that I’d give her a bath the next day. She was so funny — whenever we would hint that she might get a bath, she would put her head in your lap or in your neck and start kissing you all over you as if trying to talk you out of it. “Ah, come on, aren’t I beautiful just the way I am?” I think she secretly loved getting a bath, though. She was always so happy when she was clean and would prance around the house like the beautiful princess she knew she was. And she was. She was so beautiful.

Angel was only eight and half years old. She passed in her sleep at around six or seven in the morning on Friday. She leaves a tremendous hole in the lives and hearts of her loved ones. She was truly an angel in my life and I will forever miss her.

Rest in peace, baby girl. I love you.