Florida Day-- the Novel

Father's Day turned out to be a pretty special day-- actually, the whole weekend was a treat. Unfortunately, the "Father's" part of the day didn't have much to do with it, though. Yeah, like a slug, I totally forgot about it. But I think I do have a pretty good excuse. I mean, we were in Washington DC after all... without the children... and with a gig for my choir to sing at the National Cathedral for the Florida Day service that Sunday morning. So, yes, Father's Day wasn't at the top of the list, but I honestly don't think Kev minded too much that I forgot until after the service. Heck, even the sermon had absolutely nothing to do with fathers, which I thought was strange... once, of course, I remembered what day it was.

We flew out there Friday afternoon, leaving the girls at home with Mom and Dad Smith who had come for a visit that week. While I perhaps feel a bit guilty for pawning our children off on them, I know they relished the time to get to know them better. And since Sami's such a Mama's girl, it definitely would have taken more time for them to create an attachment with her had I been around the whole time. Right, back to DC... After our flight got in and we took the Metro to our hotel, Kev convinced me to walk around with him and find some dinner. We ended up walking about six miles that evening, very unexpectedly, even walking through the Natural History museum-- all in flip flops, mind you, which I would not recommend to anyone.

The next day we hit the museums, tackling the Gallery of Art, the Air and Space museum, the National Archives (think National Treasure), the Holocaust museum, etc. So, add at least another six to eight miles to the previous number from Friday night. Saturday evening, my choir had a gig to sing postlude to mass at a nearby Catholic Church, St. Dominic's. Unfortunately, we forgot the camera, but trust me, it was a beautiful building-- old grayish stone, stained-glass windows, the works.

I had planned this whole trip, had looked at bus and Metro schedules, and knew exactly when we needed to be where. It was all somewhat for naught, though, because with getting around in an unfamiliar city, no matter how much planning you do, you really have to just get in there and do it to understand how it all works. It took until Sunday to really understand how the Metro worked, and to realize that the bus system is a joke. We woke up early to make a bus that would take us right to the National Cathedral. We stood waiting for the bus for about fifteen minutes, and no one came, the slackers. I told Kev, "Okay, the dude has five more minutes. If no one comes, we're taking a cab." So, a cab it was, which really bit-- it cost us, like, fifteen bucks to get to the cathedral (including tip), when, if the bus had come, we could have gotten there for $2.50 total. We told the cab driver about how we tried to catch a bus, and he said, "Oh no, you can't do that-- around here you could be waiting half an hour for a bus!" Of course he'd say that, though.

As we're winding around on this stunning tree-lined (natural foliage, mind you) highway, passing churches inviting people from their bell towers, the Cathedral suddenly rose out of the forest. Enormous. It reminded me of what it's like to see some of our temples, the ones that just appear out of nowhere, like the San Diego Temple. Time literally stands still, for just a brief moment. The cab pulled up, and we paid him and got out. I don't remember ever feeling so small. After an hour and a half of pictures and warming-up, we walked into main hall. The sun shone through the window pains displaying every color of the spectrum through the depicted scenes of biblical and national history.

I expected the acoustics to be amazing, but I honestly have no idea how we sounded, because it was like I was singing in this tiny box with only the people next to me and behind me. I had to just sing according to memory when it came to texture, volume, and phrasing, all the while praying that I wasn't sticking out as badly as it seemed. We finished and took our seats all together to the left of the podium. The service began with a processional of their choir and clergy. My eyes went to the Florida flag to see Kevin holding it. "What's Kevin doing up there?" I whispered, as everyone in the choir was also pointing and whispering, "That's Kevin! How'd he get to do that?" Turns out, at the beginning of our set, Kev started taking pictures, but then remembered he saw a sign prohibiting pictures during the prelude and the service. He looked up to see a man in a suit with an official-looking badge walking towards him, and he thought, I'm busted. This guy's probably going to confiscate my camera or something. Instead the guy asked him if he was from Florida and if he'd like to carry the state flag during the processional. Kev agreed, and was taken to this room called the slype where they prepped him on what he was to do. Too bad he still had the camera. Although, I guess I technically wouldn't have been able to take a picture of it anyway, eh? That dude probably would have confiscated my camera... or maybe he just would have asked me to give the sermon. Lesson learned: taking pictures during a service in the cathedral is like asking for a calling. Don't do it.

After walking about two miles with Fred and Cheryl to take the Metro back to the hotel (didn't want to pay for another cab, and didn't trust the busses), we grabbed a quick snack, changed, and hopped right back on the Metro to make the 40-minute trip to see our BYU friends the Maksymovs. Eldar picked us up from the station and drove us to his apartment, where Courtney and their daughter Brinley were waiting. I know I said it about our visit with the Sextons back in April, but seeing old friends reminds me of how much I miss them. And 20-month old Brinley is absolutely precious, especially with the croupy little cough and raspy voice she had at the time. They even drove us out to the DC Temple, about a thirty 30-minute drive, which was very kind of them.

Our flight home was late Monday morning. We had originally thought to stop by Arlington on the way to the airport, but that idea fell through when breakfast took longer than expected. So, we checked our luggage just to realize we still had two hours until our flight. So, with no luggage to worry about, we jumped back on the Metro and made the 9-minute ride to Arlington National Cemetery. We had just enough time to be able to walk around and see the JFK Memorial, as well as Lee's old mansion and the views of the site from there. Thirty minutes later, we ran back to the Metro station and took the train back to the airport, went through the security check, and made it to our gate before the plane even started boarding. Not bad!

We actually got to do a crossword puzzle on the flight, too. Anyone with children understands why we would relish in that.