Dear Dad (2025)

Dear Dad,

You've been gone almost ten years. 

That is shocking to me, but I got to see my nephew last week, and considering he was only three months old the one time you got to meet him and he just finished fourth grade, I suppose it shouldn't be. 

Quinn, who was eight when you died, is graduating from high school on Tuesday. Mom will be here for that, but at the moment she's in LaCrosse with both Arno and Barrett. We didn't realize until Arno stepped into our kitchen that he hadn't seen it since before the remodel in 2016. He feels so present in my general existence that I missed he was absent from my home for so long.

We were trying to remember the last time our original family was all together in one spot, and worried it might not have been since we were all gathered around your hospital bed in the library. But I checked my old photos and remembered a few times prior to the pandemic years that we managed it. The pandemic messed with many things, including most people's sense of personal history and time. 

One of the things I really hoped might be changed for the better after losing you was a greater sense of urgency among family to make more time to be together. I think we feel that, but it hasn't altered the realities of how our lives function. We're still tethered by responsibilities that are anchored by dates and places that keep us apart. I watch my children, who are all adults now, casually hanging out in our home this summer, and wonder how rare that will become for them in the future. Maybe the logistics of their lives will overlap better than has happened with me and my siblings.

There have been updates to our house both big and small I wish I could show you. Last year we had a bunch of landscaping done, including new walls for the gardens in front and toward the back. We have a new front door that works much better, and new windows in the front room that actually open. I finally put something at the end of the banister in the living room where it looked like a light probably once existed and has just been a goofy looking hole for decades. I found a glass garden orb to put there, and it has solar powered lights inside that turn on in the evening, so it's pretty and also illuminates the stairs a bit at night. 

The big plans in the near future involve renovating the first floor so Ian and I in our new empty-nest lives come fall can live on one level. The nook room you used to stay in will become a bathroom with a walk-in shower, the little bathroom will be a laundry room, and my home shop will move upstairs to Aden and Mona's room while the shop becomes our bedroom. The upstairs will be shop space, Quinn's room (eventually an office and library), and a proper guest room. I think it's a good plan, but I vacillate about altering the house. Although I've never regretted updating the kitchen or redoing the deck, so I'm sure I won't look back and miss the current layout. (Now that I'm writing this, I'm wondering if maybe we should turn the teaching studio in the store into my building shop instead? We don't have as many teachers back there at this point, and it could be easier so consolidate more of the woodworking there. Not sure.)

Mom is good. She's doing such beautiful work, I'm so sorry you can't see it. She's doing a series of animals from India, and she made reproductions of her drawing of a goat that I'm getting framed. (Who knew how spoiled we were by excellent free framing growing up? I miss that!) She's got two interesting book clubs full of intelligent, thoughtful people, and her social life continues to be way more active than mine, but maybe with the free time that comes from having kids out of the house Ian and I will do more with friends. She was in India earlier this year, and if we're lucky and the mandolin orchestra goes to Italy in the fall, I'm planning to bring her along for that. She had the first part of her cataract surgery recently, and next month she has a heart procedure that I will be with her for. She's had a run of rude doctors, but we're hoping the surgeon is better at repairing leaky heart valves than he is at reassuring patients. If it works, Mom should be less fatigued, but honestly for 82 she's accomplishing a lot more than many people at any age. 

All five of your grandchildren would make you proud. Ellora loves Berkeley, and is currently studying abroad in Berlin. Little Rivyn is ten! His interests shift around, but seem to circle back regularly to trains and swords and folklore. Apparently right now he's into geography and flags, so maybe he and Quinn can bond over that sometime.

Aden finished her senior year at UW Stout, but she's doing a fifth year to take advantage of more of the great art courses they offer. Her game "Tubular" won the prize for best game-play at the SGX event this year. Even Mom enjoyed playing it at the senior show the next night. I'm glad Aden's had a positive college experience and gets to extend it a bit longer. She's home for summer. If she moves back to Milwaukee after college we've offered her the back upstairs apartment at the store building. I think it would be fun for her and Mona to live across the hall from each other, but there's no way to know yet where she'll wind up and what opportunities will be out there. 

Mona seems to be really enjoying her life right now. She's very private, so I can't tell you much, but I do know she likes having her own space, her Etsy shop is doing fine, and she's putting in regular hours at the tattoo parlor. Her mentor genuinely appreciates her talent. He told me they would never consider offering instruction about her art, because it's exceptional. They only guide her in understanding the specifics of tattooing. The list of people waiting for her to give them a tattoo when she's ready is getting long. She takes advantage of living near the lake by visiting the park often, and she walks over to the house most evenings. I worry whom she'll hang out with once Quinn leaves in the fall, but otherwise I think she's in a good place.

Quinn requested meatloaf and mashed potatoes for graduation night dinner, so I need to get to the store tomorrow. She's so smart, Dad. And so dear. We've been playing more Scrabble lately, and I'm sure you'd find it cheating with how often we look things up as we go, but we learn so many new words playing games together. Today's game yielded: SEY, LI, and REN. She got into nearly all the colleges she applied to, but she was wait-listed for U of Michigan (which was her first choice), and the only rejection she got was from UW Madison (her second choice) and that really surprised me. Anyway, she's enrolled for fall at UW LaCrosse, which I think will be good. She may need to transfer to another school when she figures out specifically what she wants to study, but for at least the first couple of years I think it could be just right. I love that she'll have family right there, and Barrett on campus. I communicated with the person in charge of gender inclusive housing, and I am reassured that the school will be a supportive environment. Quinn's good at everything and loves to learn, so I can't wait to see what she'll do. All of her teachers at her last conference gave her glowing reviews, particularly in Spanish, Psychology, English, and Economics/Social Studies. Her favorite class was Costume Design/Sewing. (She hopes to make some clothes this summer from our retired Indian table cloths.) She's still a geography wiz (especially when it comes to playing Geo-Guesser), and we got our VR machine working again and she's back to playing Beat Saber. She has her last piano lesson this week. I plan to go along so I can actually hear her play. At home she uses the keyboard with earbuds, so I never get to hear how she's doing. I'm glad she can play, but I'm not sure what it means to her. She asked for the lessons, so it's not like we made her play, but I'm glad she has a musical foundation should she be inspired to do something with it.

Ian continues to enjoy not being in the Army. He's dedicated more energy into the passenger rail and Linux groups. They're lucky to have him. I'm hoping once we get past the big renovation work and are settled into a routine without kids in the house that maybe we can travel more. Even just some nice day trips where we find a dog friendly hotel for the night and explore somewhere new would be fun. Ian misses his mom. It's weird since we sold her house last year that there's no reason for Portland to be a necessary destination anymore. I know the same will be true one day of Pleasant Ridge, but I honestly can't let my mind go there for long because I start to feel physically upset.

Arno is back to a job description I don't know, but he seems to be focused on developing an interactive system for parents to get mental health guidance in real time for their kids. He's also had me do typing tests as part of a research project that I did not benefit from. His life continues to be a whirlwind of grant proposals and trips to India and everywhere, mixed with a lot of work, unexpected home issues (I've lost track of how many times their floors have been repaired), and caring for Pepper. I wish you could see how beautiful their apartment is now. The expansion into the space next door has been a big success.

Barrett was just here for a book signing! We also got to tag along with him to a morning TV show and a bug talk at the Wehr Nature Center the same day. You would have loved the event at Boswell. He gave a great talk, and then signed books with original drawings of insects for people. It's amazing to watch him interact with his son and to see him light up with enthusiasm talking to everyone he meets. I think my favorite line of his at the nature center was when he posed a question, and Arno offered up a possible answer, and Barrett responded with something like, "Not only do you look good, but you know your stuff!" I hope Quinn gets to take a class from him.

At Boswell they asked how my writing was going, and I admitted I was stalled, but hopeful. I have not tackled the edits I paid to have done last year on my novel because as dumb as it sounds, I can't deal with following them in the Google-doc form everyone else seems to like. I have tried repeatedly to have the comments open on one side of my screen and my manuscript open on the other for the rewrite, and it's impossible. So I finally just printed out the whole thing and will copy the edits by hand so I have something physical to refer to, and finally do some writing again. I find it insane that it only takes me a couple of months to write a draft of a book, but years to make something happen with it. I was on the verge of giving up because maybe there was no point in being stressed out over something no one is asking for. But then I got an email from a lovely violin scholar who reminds me very much of you in that the word "gentleman" aptly applies, and he wanted to let me know how much he enjoyed my last book and was looking forward to reading more. So I will keep going. I'd also really like to dive into the next repair guide, but I'd rather do that while in the next waiting phase after editing the novel, so that keeps getting pushed aside.

There is a story about me and my violin store coming out in Milwaukee Magazine next month! I asked the bookstore to reserve two copies for me, and in my heart one of them is really for you. When I think how much you loved to clip articles, I ache a little every time I'm in one and you don't get to see it. I imagine how doubly fun for you it would be to clip an article that was also about someone you love. When Barrett's Insect Epiphany got a huge spread in the local paper, I cut the article out and taped the date along the edge they way you used to.

I wasn't feeling photogenic when the magazine came to take pictures, so I brought along Domino, because she's always cute. Plus she's a legitimate fixture of the store at this point. When we're out, it's not unusual for someone to say, "Hey, that's the violin store dog!" I do love that baby-sized pup. I gave her a bath in the sink this afternoon and now she's super soft.

Store is doing well. My health is better this year compared to last. I try to be good about continuing the exercises I learned in physical therapy last summer so that I won't relapse into not being able to walk again. That was awful, and I don't take being able to move for granted. My next big building project is a pair of violins, one of which is designated for Mom to paint. There's been lots of fun playing with both Festival City and the MMO. I wish at every concert I could see you in the audience.

I need to wrap this up before Father's Day is over. It's been a nice day. I made Ian waffles for breakfast. Quinn and I played Scrabble. I washed the dog and picked up around the house. Ian and I popped over to the store to finish a couple of things. Aden watched an episode of the new season of Taskmaster with us while we ate a dinner Quinn prepared. I walked Domino several times in the nice weather. Mona arrived at the house and helped Quinn make banana bread. I poked at this post a little bit at a time over the course of the whole day, and am finishing up at my workbench.

I have a great life, Dad. Although I often feel conflicted, because the world/our country is coming apart in ways that would have had you feeling justifiably alarmed, but on a personal level I am fortunate enough to be okay. I love my family, we're managing in the moment, but there is so much just beyond our reach that is so terribly wrong that it's hard to grapple with some days. I honestly cannot guess at what things will be like if I go to write you a letter next year. The sheer stupidity of the decisions being made at the highest levels would have you in despair. The cruelty of it all would break your heart. And yet, I can promise you on this day the people you loved most are good. That's something. All I can tell you is I will use the stable ground I am on to help steady others when I can. Because I know that's what you'd want me to do.

I love you. I wish I could hug you.

Happy Father's Day, Dad.

Kory

 

Mosaic

 

When we found the location for opening our violin store in 2008, one of the many things I loved about it was the large windows. They are perfect for setting up displays to be seen from the street and sidewalk, and they provide a lovely view from my bench throughout the day. There is so much window space that I felt we could afford to block some with a Rubik's Cube mosaic if I ever built one.

A cube mosaic is simply using the individual squares of color on the front face of a Rubik's Cube as pixels in a larger image. There are programs available online where you can upload a picture into a pixel-generator based on your cube colors, and it will give you image options complete with a breakdown of a dozen cubes at a time for easy assembly. 

Pattern breakdown on my laptop

 

Assembly in the box-frame

Finished image (design by Aden Weisser)

I'm not a speed-cuber, but I'm fast enough at solving individual cube faces that my mosaic of 480 cubes only takes me a few hours to do. I find it relaxing, and the people in the neighborhood seem to enjoy the changing display.

I had been looking at that space in the window and wanting to put a cube mosaic in it for more than fifteen years before I finally just did it. At first as a young business, that seemed like a ridiculous expense to invest in. Even in bulk, speed cubes (which don't have stickers, and look cleaner for use in an art piece) were going to cost money I didn't feel I could justify spending when there were supplies to buy and rent to pay. Plus I wasn't quite sure how to construct a secure frame for it, and to top it off I generally have a lot going on with little free time to spare.

But my schedule has gotten simpler as my children have grown. The last kid in the house even does most of the cooking, so I'm not saddled with shopping for and making dinner nowadays. Last year it hit me that buying a ton of cubes was never going to be a reasonable sounding expense, and I should just do it. I imagined how stupid I would feel on my deathbed wondering why I never did this thing that in the grand scheme wasn't that big an expense at all.

Because why are we here? What are we doing? Life is short and there's lots to try before we go. One of those things I wanted to try was that mosaic, so why wait?

I started by ordering 240 bulk speed cubes. I experimented with a pattern on the living room floor, and the kids and I decided it was too small. As extravagant as owning 240 cubes sounded, we could make better images by doubling that number. Beyond that seemed too unwieldy for the space and harder to make time to switch out with any frequency. 480 it was.

I ordered a second batch of cubes, accidentally got sticker cubes, sent those back, got new speed cubes, but the colors didn't match the first set, so they let me send back the original batch, and I got a new set of cubes from the same factory batch as the set I kept. So that was a lot. And now I feel silly about having an issue with the slight color difference, because as the cubes have been in the window many colors have faded and they don't match each other now anyway. At some point I will have to probably refresh them with paint.

mismatched

 

I've enjoyed coming up with new designs, usually derived from photographing things inside the shop.

The first one I did was of a scroll I had recently carved. I really like how the mosaic images look from across the street. It's fascinating how our brains fill in necessary details.

 

I tend to change the mosaic on average about once a month, depending on how much time I have. There is an ebb and flow to repair work where sometimes there is a break or everything is drying in clamps for a while, and I can just sit while waiting for deliveries or appointments. It's nice to settle in by the window and solve cubes.

 

I've even done holiday themed images, like putting up a picture of my Cell-O-Lantern, or Peeps.

 

Peeps!

The box/frame is a big piece of thin plywood (I didn't want it to be too heavy) with a wood border just deep enough to hold the cubes. It's resting on a dolly with wheels I can lock, and that can also be tipped into a horizontal position if I ever want to lay out all the cubes as if they are on a table. Originally I planned to put some kind of grippy backing in the box to help secure the cubes, but gravity turned out to be enough. The small lean of the box is sufficient to make the cubes stay in place. The dolly also allows me to rotate the box toward me to work on it, and then easily turn it to face the window when the image is done.

Box construction took up all my floor space

Bonus that the dolly wheels are a fun color!

 

It always looks like more off the board

I'm lucky that I like my job very much, and I won't be someone who regrets having spent so much time at it. If I couldn't make a living at what I do, I would find a job that allowed me to do violin work as a hobby. I don't mind being defined by my particular job, because it sums up a great deal of who I am and strive to be. My work is creative and practical, it's about helping others and creating beauty, and I feel connected to both the past and the future keeping a tradition alive in my own corner of the world.

When people ask why there are Rubik's Cubes in my violin store, the answer is because I like them. The store is me. It reflects what I like and who I am, from the violins to the cubes to the sparkle cello to the pride flags to the Mold-A-Ramas to the Escher floor puzzle to the rocks from Lake Michigan to my dog in the window. There are pictures of my kids, my husband by my side, and now there is also a cube mosaic.

I am many things that make a whole. We all are. Life is a mosaic, and together we form something larger than ourselves. I'm grateful every day that each person who can does their small part to keep our lives running. If we're doing our little piece well, it eases someone's burden and brightens the world a tiny bit more. Sometimes that means simply being who we are authentically, and doing the things we like and not putting them off.

I like that doing something that makes me happy can also bring passersby a little joy. 

Peeps 2025

Mona is now a repeat top prize winner at the annual Racine Art Museum's "Peep Art" show! She won "First Peep" along with the recently added "Postcard" prize, where her piece was selected to print on postcards for sale at the museum's gift shop.

 

It's a great piece. Mona's become quite proficient in her creation of flash sheets for her tattoo apprenticeship at Devotion. I love her Peeps Flash Sheet that she entered this year.

 

The details in it are just charming. I'm particularly fond of the cowboy with no way to use that gun.

My entry this year was also 2D, but I don't think it was clear to people what it really was.

I have a display in my shop that holds 480 Rubik's Cubes, and I arrange them into various mosaic designs. I tried out various Peeps images on it, because I wanted a "Puzzled Peep" made of puzzles. I liked the one I chose because as an art piece I found it most appealing. I took a photo of the cube mosaic, and had it printed out on a canvas through a company online in order for it to be something that fit the entry requirements of the Peeps show.

 

The show this year at RAM did not disappoint. It is always amazing to see how clever and creative people can be. The entry that made me really laugh was the homage to the duct taped banana.

There were a lot more glass entries than I remember from years past. I didn't get enough pictures of some of the funnier things, but here's some of what was there:

 

A good Peeps year! We've already got ideas for 2026.

Mona's latest Golden Peep Award!

Easing toward the empty nest

My kids are currently 23, 21, and 18. The oldest is away at college. The middle child lives in an apartment in our violin store building and is an apprentice at a tattoo shop across the street. The youngest is in her final year of high school and we are still waiting to hear back from the last couple of colleges she's interested in.

Officially they are all adults. Realistically they are all still supported by us as they continue to build skills that will help them live on their own at some point. We're glad to help. We're also glad that we didn't go cold turkey from having kids around, to their complete absence in our day-to-day lives. I like when the oldest returns on school breaks. I like that we see the middle child more often than we did when she lived in our house and retreated (as teens often do) behind her bedroom door. I like that my baby is around for games of Boggle most evenings. She's quiet and keeps to herself, but she's definitely still home.

I feel like we're easing into the empty nest years. It's an interesting transition, because if you'd asked me when my kids were small how I would be handling this concept, it would have sounded too sad. I love having a front row seat to my kids' lives. But I may also be ready for something new.

Someone asked me recently what having just one grown kid still at home even entails. I was a little taken aback because I definitely still feel the weight of parenting, but truthfully my daughter doesn't need much. She's in charge of dinner four nights a week (we get a Hello Fresh box which cuts down on decisions and shopping and food waste, and delegating dinner in this way was one of the best ideas we ever tried). She takes the bus to school. She seldom if ever needs help with homework and is handling all her IB classes just fine. It's not like with little kids where you have to help them bathe and dress, etc.

But it definitely impacts your life to be available all the time. Parenting a self-sufficient kid is like being on call 24/7. If she misses the bus, we have to drive her across town. There are still doctor and dentist appointments. There are still prescriptions to keep track of. There are piano lessons, and for a while she had debate that she needed to be picked up from twice a week, along with occasional meets on weekends. We went to our very last parent-teacher conference over a week ago. We may not have to technically do very much, but we still have to be ready to drop things at a moment's notice the way parents are sometimes called to do.

I don't envy people still in the early days of their parenting journeys. It's a lot. It can be great fun, and I'm glad I got to do much of it, but I've reached a stage in my life where it mostly looks exhausting. I may never be lucky enough to have grandchildren, but I understand the appeal. Getting to visit some of those experiences again without having to commit to them full time sounds great.

Starting this fall, we expect to have no children living at home most of the year. Having grown children means rethinking what holidays mean, what travel can be, and not being tethered to the particulars of a school calendar. The amount of time saved simply from reductions in meals, dishes, and cleaning opens many possibilities.

The first big thing on our agenda is doing a remodel of the first floor of our house. Last year at this time I had a frustrating experience with my knees that required weeks of physical therapy, and it gave me a preview of potential complications from aging in the future. I really like our house and would prefer not to move ever again, so we're going to bring our bedroom down to the first floor, add a real bathroom with a walk-in shower, and bring the laundry up from the basement. We'll move my home shop upstairs (because one day if that's an issue we can always bring it back down), leave our youngest's room alone for a few years, and make our current bedroom into a proper guest room. It's a big project, but the idea of living entirely on the first floor seems like a good long term plan, and one best started early. None of that would be comfortable to do with any kids still living at home.

I'm looking forward to going out with my husband occasionally. Four or five people going anywhere is a lot of money and/or effort. Just two of us trying a new restaurant sounds so easy. Buying only two tickets to a movie or a show sounds affordable. 

My husband is also a lot easier to convince to do anything. Trying to dislodge the kids from the house has always been a challenge. They like doing things once we're out, but dragging them to any of it is often more work than it should be. Seriously, my mandolin orchestra may possibly got to Cremona, Italy this fall, and I invited my middle kid along since the town is her namesake. The other two will be in school, but I figured her schedule has more flexibility, especially with this much notice, and she's on the fence about it. How? Who turns down a free trip to Italy? Anyway, I love the idea of finding dog-friendly trips to take where Ian and I can close the store for a few days and go see something or visit someone just because we can.

I'm also getting absurdly excited by the idea of cleaning out our house. That's somehow hard to do with extra people in it, and I'm not even sure why. I want get rid of anything we don't use, starting by emptying the basement. There are small bikes and old pots and pans and dried up cans of paint and old floaties, etc. There are some useless things that I still want but that need to be better organized. There is a section of the basement I'd like to paint and make more habitable for my bandsaw. But most of it needs to go! I spend what little time I have for cleaning simply repeating myself with clearing the same surfaces over and over that using that reclaimed time to finally tackle messes we've put off for years will be satisfying.

I even have visions in my head of creating a once a month quartet meet up at my store after hours, where anyone who feels like doing a bit of chamber music purely for the joy of it can come over and pull up a stand. Wouldn't that be lovely?

When imagining empty nest possibilities, I tend to remember a two week stretch where my husband took all the kids and their cousin to the cottage and I had to stay behind with the dog. A friend invited me for an evening bike ride that she did with a group once a week, and at first I turned her down. I never had time to spare for something like that. But my first day home alone I cleaned the house, and the second night I realized I didn't have to do that again. It stayed clean. There was no laundry to do. There were no dishes. I realized I did have time to go on that bike ride.

I'm sure life will throw challenges at us and anticipating any sort of smooth sailing in life feels foolish at best, but currently the idea of my husband and I only having to be responsible for ourselves in the coming years sounds like a well-earned break, rather than the lonely existence I once would have pictured with the kids gone. 

We did okay, I think. We got the kids this far. There's still more to help guide them through. Do we ever stop needing our parents? I know I still need my mom. I expect my kids to still need me. As long as they keep coming back regularly enough that I can hug them and occasionally cook them something they like, I think this new phase will be fine.

I'm excited to see what they will do. I'm just as excited to see what I will do.

Having a scoopable baby-size dog also helps