Going South

KATHERINE HERE.

I'm sitting at a desk in the Birmingham Aloft Hotel.  It's edgy.  There's a pool table and bar across from check-in.   Pipes and building stuff, in very matte black paint, hang from the ceiling.  The room is grey and black with minimal stuff.  There are no directions or pieces of paper about the place to explain how things work.  I like it.  I'm a grown-up.  I have managed to watch TV, connect to the internet, make coffee, and get the hi-tech shower to work.  The window overlooks the Soho neighborhood where our close friend David has a fine jewelry and collectible place.  It's not a store.  It's a gallery.  I have more to say about that, but it must wait.

It's been an adventure getting to this morning and this view.  It's been a wonderful journey and the only drawback to it is that Jim isn't here.  This is the longest we've been apart.  I have more to say about that as well.

I'm here because because of family.  Franny has begun to work on individual projects and this time she was organizing the friends and family of the Obamas for their attendance and participation in the Democratic National Convention.  Because Ken is embroiled in directing Congressman Perlmutter's campaign, he couldn't take two weeks off to help with the care of their daughter Willa while Franny ran from meetings in downtown Charlotte to security venue inspections and then back to the room for tons of conference calls with folks.

I volunteered to do the front part of the visit.  I did so with love, but fear took over when it became real.  Chris's beautiful kids have given me the confidence that I can handle little ones, but I'd never done plane rides or had to exist in a small hotel room for several days without leaving.  What if Willa wouldn't eat for me or sleep for me or play for me.  What if Willa got hurt?  What if Willa didn't like me when she was away from her mommy for long stretches?  Chris's kids are bigger now and they communicate--talking really helps.  So many worries with an a crawling eight month old baby.

I knew leaving Jim would be hard too.  If you know us, we are like two parts of one soul and it's hard to split a soul in half.  Try watching television with only half your soul.  It's not nearly as funny.

I know it's silly to be scared of stuff like this.  I was though.  I'm so glad fear didn't win.  This has been amazing.  I'll try to limit myself to the highlights.

Watching Franny work taught me why she is still one of Mrs. Obama's go-to people.  They are reaching our to her for more projects.  I couldn't be more proud.  I have watched emails stream in like the speed of light, heard conference calls I'd love to share, but that would be bad.  She was gone by 8:00 in the morning and when she could return to the room for some ballast, it also came with more emails and calls.  I went to bed at midnight with the covers over my head to block the light and clicking sounds because she was still typing and working.  Franny knows her brothers and friends think she doesn't always respond quickly enough (her brothers work incredibly hard and are sometimes equally guilty of this I should add).  When Franny is working on FLOTUS events, I'm not sure she could even find the emails in the blur. This girl is a work horse.

There were times when I met folks she worked with in The White House.  They adore her.  I met one of her mentors.  Amazing woman.  I've felt the same way when I met folks who have worked with the boys.  When Sammi had her brain surgery, the waiting room was filled with people singing Chris's praise in the same way.  When we saw Nate at The Pit in NYC,  his friends made us feel this way.  Though I know each is their own person, these moments shoot some sort of parenting thrill through me that's hard to explain.  We didn't do any of it, but there is a connection I can't deny.  I don't want credit--I just feel a part of it somehow.  We are blessed to have three kids who regularly provide this kind of electric joy.

Mostly, however, I watched Willa.  She and I both did great.  I learned to read her signs (the pooping frown and grunt was especially helpful).  She clearly recognizes words (bottle is a biggee) and it wasn't long before we doing just fine.

We went to the pool (no kiddee pool-ARGH) between rain storms (it rains in sheets here), played WillaBird (I laid on the ground and lifted her in the air with my feet and legs), learned to roll a ball (well, kind of), roared at each other in Willa-Talk, and became good buds.  She now gets excited to see me enter a room.  I'm sure she said "Hi" once.  She looks around for me when I am gone.  This was as thrilling as watching Franny work.

That was pretty much the week in Charlotte.  There were other moments to remember--trying to do my very early morning workout in the gym with Secret Service Agents (large and intense fellows who talk into their hands a lot), the fun overheard conversations of Obama staffers about the Ryan lies and Clint Eastwood's chair, realizing the sky is small in the South because of the trees, the southern fried dinner Franny treated me to my last night there, and the miniature friendships Willa made with every human being she encountered.

I left Charlotte yesterday to head to Birmingham to see our friend David.  It was on this flight I saw the biggest celebrities.  I'd seen TV sports folks on the flight out with Franny (Shannon Sharpe and Pam Oliver).  Bob Schieffer of FACE THE NATION sat behind me at the restaurant Friday night.  But nothing compared to the folks lining up to take photos of the matriarch and patriarch of DUCK DYNASTIES.

Dressed in camouflage from head to toe, the Willie-Nelson bearded man and wife shook hands and chatted up almost everyone on the plane.  I did not participate beyond asking someone near me who these folks were.  Guess they host a Cable TV show that is beloved in these parts.  Might have to miss it.

The two flights provided two miniature friendships.  I met a young Air Force serviceman headed to South Korea while having a drink between flights.  He was reading INVISIBLE MAN and wearing a Bronco hat.  If you know me, that's a blatant invitation for me to speak to you.  I did--it was great.  He's getting a degree and was taking a lit class and he was from Greeley.  He had to write a paper comparing the "Battle Royal" from the book and a story called "The Birthmark."  He couldn't see anything comparable.  He loved my miniature lesson in philosophy.  He took notes.  He hugged me.  I hope he will be safe.

On the next plane I met an army lawyer from Fort Bragg who worked with Colin Powell.  He was headed to Birmingham to see his mom.  Incredibly impressive young man. We both loved the stories we exchanged.  Talk about seeing a wonderful side of our Armed Forces.

David met me at the airport.  I must briefly introduce him.  We met him at Jenny Lake Lodge.  When we first started going up there, he would visit with long-time friends and discuss hikes and things to do.  We learned to sit close to his pod of folks and eavesdrop.  Teachers are good at that.  He was our greatest teacher.  He told me last night that I wrote him a note the second year and thanked him.  He still has it.  At that point he was only "The Hiker" to us.  He is David now.

Over the last 15 years, he's become a voice I love to hear (Southern drawls are wonderful), my personal jeweler, an art appreciation teacher, and a best friend (if such things are possible when you live across the country and only see each other several days a year).  I am not who I am without him.  I met his business partner and wife last night and Preston told me, "David is the most ethical man he's ever met."

We went to see his house.  He collects art.  His house is a lived-in and glorious art gallery.  He has a Carl Rungius.  This is a very big deal.  I wouldn't have known that ten years ago.  Almost every inch of wall space has something wonderful.  He juxtaposes classic realism with abstracts and impressionistic things.  Some paintings are done by well known artists (I'll learn them soon) and some are done by relatives and friends.  Almost every bit of table space is full of books and sculptures.  There also things from Tanzania and Bolivia and Switzerland and all sorts of places.  I've watched him purchase art in Jackson Wyoming.  It was cool to see where the pieces ended up.  Like I said, it's a gallery.

David also has taught me about Southern hospitality.  He brings me cheese straws when we go to the Tetons.  He brought them to me yesterday.  He put me up in this hotel despite my protests and this gift gave me some needed alone time and a moment to write this.  He took me to a truly wonderful dinner last night (Bottega  if you are ever in Birmingham).    We are going to brunch and the art museum today.  I will do everything I can to pitch in.  I arrived empty handed.  I'll be looking for a special thank you soon.  I have something in mind already.

David also offered the Promised Land yesterday.  Unlike Moses, I got to cross over and walk in.  I went to The Store.  It's Wallace Burke Fine Jewelry and Collectibles in the Soho area.  It's small and yet another gallery.  There are silver antiques, leather bound books, glass pieces that stun, and happily jewelry.  One of the pantings in bought in Jackson is there too.  All the jewelry pieces are unique.  Period.  David and the Preston choose these things individually.  There is not too much.  It is perfect.  it was indeed full of milk and honey.

I adore jewelry.  Jim doesn't really see it, but he has always indulged me.  He and David conspired at Jenny one year and the result was an engagement ring they presented to me a year later.  It was the year Franny got married.  The moment on the mountain when Jim and David gave it to me is probably better than most girls ever get.  It was lovely to be loved by two fellows at once.

Since then, David has guided me through a number of heirloom purchases and has redesigned some things my mom gave me when I was growing up.  My favorite would be some emerald earrings from his store.  They are single stone emeralds surrounded by yellow diamonds.  He told me they matched my eyes.  What can a girl do?

Visiting the store was like playing Cinderella.  I tried on a $26,000 yellow diamond band.  I won't be getting that one, but it looked pretty damn good on me.  There was a green garnet and amethyst bracelet that I'm praying won't sell until I'm done paying for a pair of pearl earrings (I'm still in anguish over a color decision there) more in my price range.  I don't think God pays attention to jewelry prayers (at least I hope not), but I'm going to keep a good thought or change my mind and look at a long haul for the bracelet.  David will let me know.  Isn't that what a personal jeweler is for?

I'm sorry this is so long.  I guess it's more for me than anyone else.  It's been an incredibly fulfilling trip.  I feel I've been a huge part of the village of my family.  I feel so loved by my family and friends.  And besides, not everybody gets to see the hosts of DUCK DYNASTIES.

P.S.  I'm buying the bracelet.  It matches the paint in my house.  Things like that are important.