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My Kid’s Teachers

Posted in FAMILY, The Kids, WONDER, tagged #mykidsteachers, #teachingishardwork, #thanksforteachers on October 27, 2016| 1 Comment »

thank-you-for-being-a-wonderful-teacher-to-my-child-greeting-card

As I drove my son home from youth, he inquired about how my last Parent-Teacher conference had gone.

For nineteen years I have attended these meetings. Depending on the year, and the child who I was inquiring about, I have attended these meetings with a variety of emotions from joy, to dread, to surprise. I have left these meetings with thanks.

After hashing out the conversations and comments with my son, I found myself reflecting on the end of this era.

I work in a high school as an Educational Assistant, and take great pride in the work I do. But, I am not a teacher. Working in the school system, alongside of professional teachers has given me immense respect for those who teach our children.

Their job is an impossible task!

They are required to become experts in their fields, imparting their knowledge equally upon the eager, the disinterested, and the antagonistic.

They are expected to teach information that is advanced and relevant in our technological world, with antiquated tools and self-taught skills.

They have to fill the roles of disciplinarian, counsellor, parent, physician, and educator.

They are expected to regularly take courses to upgrade their knowledge, deal with curricular changes, attend meetings (often not within a regular work day), coach, mentor and facilitate extracurricular activities, along with the pressure of expectations of administration and the parent community.

Having had our children in private, Christian schools, means that their teachers, though still expected to have the same (or greater as Christian perspective courses are regularly being upgraded) education, training and professional development, do not earn incomes as high as their professional counterparts.

Though there are challenges, struggles, high expectations and low renumeration, they show up,

every

single

day,

and they teach.

I have had the joy of watching these committed professionals laugh, challenge, teach and even pray for my kids and their friends. I have heard them voice concern, share heart-warming stories and agonize over students who work so hard, yet still do not pass tests. I have seen their faces, their smiles, heard their genuine welcome when a student from years gone by stops in for a visit.

There is little left to say, other than

thanks, we noticed your efforts.

“A teacher affects eternity;
he can never tell where his influence stops.”
Henry Adams

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Life and Breath

Posted in The Kids, WONDER, tagged #birthdaygirl, #emilydickinson, #findecstasyinlife, #lifeandbreath, #psalm23 on October 23, 2016| Leave a Comment »

Happy birthday to my first born!

It’s been another year of what we take most for granted … life and breath.

Life and breath. They go together, they need each other, yet, we easily forget the blessing that they are, until we risk losing them.

I remember well your first breath, and the cries that followed. They were the best sounds I had ever heard. They proceeded tears and smiles and laughter from your dad and I.

I had waited and worked hard for that moment, and not just in pushing you out and into this world. From your conception, there was the threat of loss (as had happened before you) that I was determined would not occur.

As if we are able to will our days, our breath, let alone will it for another.

“For the Spirit of God has made me,
and the breath of the Almighty gives me life.”
Job 33:4

And here you are, all these years later.

You have an education, and you are ready to break out onto your own … if only the one right job would come along (as opposed to the three that are paying the bills).

It is hard to be in a place of waiting, especially when you have been waiting all throughout your years of study. You are ready to go, to do, to really, finally live the life.

Even in this valley, that seems so shadowed, there is life and breath:

God, my shepherd!
I don’t need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
you let me catch my breath
and send me in the right direction.
Even when the way goes through
Death Valley,
I’m not afraid
when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd’s crook
makes me feel secure.
You serve me a six-course dinner
right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head;
my cup brims with blessing.
Your beauty and love chase after me
every day of my life.
I’m back home in the house of God
for the rest of my life.

You have worked hard, and you are waiting. But, you are being nourished and cared for even in the waiting.

As I waited for you, I also waited in the valley. It was not where I wanted to be, yet it was where I needed to be, to repair and prepare. To breath, to re-learn how to live again.

You were so worth waiting for, and your breath took mine away.

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Songs for my Son’s 17th

Posted in life, The Kids, WONDER, tagged #songsformysons17th, #thanksgivingbirthday on October 11, 2016| Leave a Comment »

Happy birthday baby boy!

Okay, I’m a day late, but roasting the Thanksgiving turkey kinda kept me away from writing … ironic, since seventeen years ago, it was your birth that kinds kept me away from roasting the Thanksgiving turkey!

I remember well the day you were born … my heart was aching, hands shaking, and I thought (think): Ohh I don’t wanna let you down. I’d die for you, that’s easy to say

With you I share a similar taste in music. Our drives to and from school often have the volume turned up (until we reach school, or our neighbourhood … cause we don’t want anyone to think that your old mom could be cool like that), and air drums being played. I often try to get you to sing along, and you get a lump in your throat cause I’m gonna sing the words wrong”!

Though much of our shared music is simply enjoying the beat, there is actually wisdom in a few of our favorites:

“Wish we could turn back time,to the good ol’ days.
When our mama sang us to sleep, but now we’re stressed out.”
I admit, I do sometimes wish we could turn back time. Seeing you and your sisters enter into adulthood, with all it’s stresses landing on your shoulders, makes me nostalgic for ‘simpler’ times. That said, the independence that you are all heading towards is exciting and I look forward to see where you will go in your lives. You can look back with joy, but don’t stay there … move forward.

its always darkest before the dawn
There will be days that will be dark … really dark. Remember that childhood book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day? You will have days when you will be able to write the sequel. Don’t throw in the towel, it IS always darkest before the dawn. Give thanks … “thanksgiving preceded the blessing” (Voskamp). so keep your head up, my love.

we’re all strange and baby we don’t wanna change
Ever feel like a square peg in a round hole? Kinda like you just don’t ‘fit’? Honey, that is a common human experience. Keep looking for where you fit like you were made for it … that is the place you will thrive … not every day, but over a lifetime. So go forth and have no fear.

please don’t make any sudden moves
Think before you make choices … from that bag of chips, to the homework on your desk, to that girl that smiled at you, to the career choice, to the video game (into hour number three). Every choice toward one thing is a choice away from another. Choose wisely, good and bad consequences are attached to all choices.

Time is a valuable thing, watch it fly by as the pendulum swings. Watch it count down to the end of the day. The clock ticks life away. It’s so unreal.
It is said that the days are long, and the years short. If you close your eyes does it almost feel like nothing changed at all. Live fully each day, love fully every day. The only guarantee is right now. Live with the goal of few regrets. These days of dust which we’ve known, will blow away with this new sun.

I can’t wait to kick off my work shoes
Choose work you will love, and love the work you do but … your work is not your life! Don’t sell your soul for a pay check! Have a life full of family, friends and activities, outside of work, so that you can look forward to both the beginning and end of your workdays.

though the truth may vary this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore
but we all know, if there’s hope, then we’ll be okay
There are so many unknowns in life, especially when, like seventeen year old you, change is so close you can almost touch it. But, you have within your grasp someone who will direct your life, filling you with hope. Continue to allow God to direct you. He is your rock, your life’s foundation.

every minute and every hour, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more
you can call me up from a pay phone
it may be hard for you to stop and believe but for you I’d leave it all
I am always your mom, and though I do like to remind you that I too have a life, I will miss you when you venture out into your own life. I’d stop whatever I am doing, for you … always here, just a phone call away.

you’re such a big mess, and I love you
honey I love you, that’s all she wrote

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Patient Hope

Posted in FAMILY, The Kids, WONDER, tagged #dickinson, #janeausten, #theminiwheats, #wonder, Graduation, Hope, patience on May 6, 2016| Leave a Comment »

What a week our household ended April with! What a wonder-filled week!

The week began with our youngest daughter starting her final practicum, in her quest to complete her Special Education Teaching Assistant (SETA) course.

This time she is placed in a high school, even working with a couple of students who were actually born before her. Challenge is the key God uses, most often, to unlock our most hidden gifts. I pray she opens her door wide and shares her strength, building her character, and using it as a tool to open the locks on her the students she encounters.

Though she intends to continue her education, she will soon be unleashed from this program, certified to work with those students in the margins. Using what she has learned, and who God created her to be, to do her job. She will do her job so very well, for she has been gifted to see strengths in the weak.

I know she is eyeing freedom, desiring to share an apartment with friends, living her life independent from mom and dad.

Last Monday night I sat in a dark gymnasium, heart in my throat, as I anticipated the start of the high school play in which my son was acting.

The story, by George Orwell, called 1984, has been a time of stretching for my boy-man. My ‘baby boy’ traded in his sweet and affectionate nature for the pure evil of O’Brian. Each performance he had to get in touch with his carnal dark side … yelling, torturing, destroying.

A couple of weeks ago it was getting to him, greatly. The character of O’Brian was invading him, extinguishing the light with it’s smothering darkness. I prayed. I asked others to pray. Then, last week, the dark was being pushed out by the light.

The most heart-warming moment of the week was when, as I was chatting with a mom of another character, who I had not seen or spoken to in months. She asked how my son was, because, just days before, her daughter came home saying that they really needed to pray for him, because his character was getting to him. Is there any greater gift, for a parent, than to be told someone is praying for your child?

His efforts and the cost to him payed off in full, as he interpreted well Owell’s character. His (5) performances were believable and authentic. The entire cast depicted the evils of this story so well, and the entire cast, crew and director were as authentic in their support and care for each other.

He is now, once again, fully himself. O’Brien is gone, may his character be gone forever, may his lessons forever be remembered.

That week ended in an event centre, watching our eldest cross the stage, have her tassel moved from one side to another, receive a diploma, and pose for a picture.

That short walk was the culmination of six years of hard work … her hard work. I found myself hearing the song If it Hadn’t Been for You, from the musical, Anne of Green Gables, as her name was read to cross the stage.

It was she, who earned the double major (Sociology and Psychology) degree, by studying hard, writing mountains of papers, and working numerous jobs along the way, to pay for half of her schooling costs (the government of Canada helped with the rest … but this too falls in her lap).

As Miss Stacey said, “why she did it herself, with imagination and determination”

I hold on to a fair measure of parent guilt, for encouraging her to pursue education at such an expensive university, and having little to contribute to it’s costs. Though I do know she received a wonderful education, by the relationships she has made, and will continue to have with her profs, who educated, encouraged, challenged and cared for my girl.

The world is now an open book to her. She is well on her way, making plans for the future, her future. Her plans, though not solidified, are to move away. This makes my heart ache, and soar all at the same time. For “hope is the thing with feathers” (Dickinson).

These are the memories of that wonder-filled week. That week that was the culmination of much patience, for each of my children. The practise of patience will continue, throughout our lives. May my three have the patience to pursue what they hope for, all the days of their lives.

Romans-8.25

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Depression

Posted in GOD, life, The Kids, WONDER, tagged Depression, GOD, Ink Stains, Pain, Redemption, Revelations, Sadness, Sorrow on August 13, 2014| Leave a Comment »

“Depression is an ink that stains everything it touches
A black hole that swallows all that comes near”
-The Beaver (movie)

I do not personally know the truth or fallacy in the quote above. I do know that as I look back at times when I was sad, when I was feeling downcast those words are so true. Looking back on those periods in my life, I can see the stains that were left on those around me, even today.

It is easy to forget, or not even be aware, that we are part of a bigger world than just ourselves, and that things that happen to us, affect those around us. It is the relational evidence of the scientific fact that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. So when we are overwhelmed with pain or sorrow or frustrations, we are not the only ones to feel the effects … all those closest to us feel our reactions, and then they, in turn, also respond.

As a mom (I cannot speak for dads) I am naturally predisposed to guilt. I can look over the well-intended mothering that I have done, and see errors that I made that will surely result in therapy for my kids in years to come. Yes, I have forced them to clean their plates, at times. Yes, I yelled at them more than once (a day). Yes, I sent them to their rooms to await discipline … and forgot them. Yes, I made them clean their rooms. Yes, they are all aware that that their not at all skinny parents have skinny dipped (that one may send them to therapy for longer and sooner than any other, if their faces turning green when they discovered this is any indicator).

There are certain periods in our life together, when I thought I was hiding my own disappointments and sadness with life’s circumstances so well, and as I look back, and look at changes in their lives, I am aware that too were stained by my sadness. It is such a guilt-ridden thing when I see those stains that they wear, because of me. My inability, at times, to manage and deal with events in my life better, have permanently stained my children …

I am coming full circle now, though. And I am looking to see purpose in suffering, I am looking to see good from bad. I am looking to see that something positive, not just negative, can come from those stains. And I am beginning to see it.

I see a daughter’s sensitivity to a friend who is being stained by sadness and illness in her home. I see a son’s expression of his friends need of God. I see a daughter’s desire to go to those in desperate pain and need, in a place I would not want to go, to show love and mercy. Those times of sorrow for me, that were permanently etched into the beings of my children, have altered their hearts. They have been able to take the stains that I have caused, and are wearing them as certificates of accomplishment and experience. And these stains are being used to reach out to others, more desperate than their mother ever was.

The redemptive way that God can take our pain, and mold it into something beautiful for others is something I do not expect to ever understand this side of heaven. But, I am thankful that the stains I may have caused, have not swallowed the futures of my children.

“God Himself will be among them, and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes;

and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain;

the first things have passed away.”

And He who sits on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.”

And He said, “Write, for these words are faithful and true.”

Then He said to me, “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.

I will give to the one who thirsts from the spring of the water of life without cost.

He who overcomes will inherit these things, and I will be his God and he will be My son (daughter).

Revelation 21:4-7

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Momma Guilt

Posted in FAMILY, life, The Kids, women, WONDER, tagged #mommaguilt, #todolists, Life, Mothering, Parenting, Regrets on July 24, 2014| 5 Comments »

*Though written three years ago, Momma Guilt continues for this Momma … I bet it does for us all … and continues to the end of our Earthly lives.

Once upon a time, there was a girl who was growing up. And this little girl had dreams, aspirations, hopes and goals for her future. She dreamed of one day getting married, having babies, and doing it all just like she has seen on TV.

Unfortunately, she was born in 1969, and the TV moms who she had modeled for her … were perfect!

There was June Cleaver, who, other than the obscure name her son Beaver had … was perfect.

Then there was Marion Cunnigham, who was ALWAYS making homemade goodies, not only for HER kids, but for all their friends!

Then there was Clair Huxtable, she made the concept of working mom look so easy! And she even had her, always loving, obstetrician hubby, who did most of the cleaning and cooking!

Ah, and then Caroline Ingalls … that woman could fix a fence, mend a sock, and chase Laura all over the prairies, and still get an enormous homemade dinner on the table, with enough to feed the weary traveler!

And, finally, Jane Jetson … even in space-time animation June Cleaver lives … and in size 8 (I have worn size 8, by the way … it just had a ‘1’ in front of the ‘8’).

All of these women had the same things in common …

– they were all slim … I am green with envy

– they were all pretty … so much to aim for

– they all were perfectly accessorized … this is where my love of my (faux) pearls originated

– they always made their hubbys happy … sigh

– their kids always loved and appreciated them … momma guilt!

The other day, I found myself deep in the mires of MOMMA GUILT … ever been there, ladies?

It had been a busy week, with another busy week to come (and so on, and so on, and so on …). So, Saturday was full with a To Do list that had no hope of getting done.

While hubby was finishing up his sermon (because he had spent the week dealing with ‘immediate’ stuff), and hoping to get some yard work done, I was to take our son to a birthday party, and get a few errands completed.

I got very few of those errands done, as I decided to throw in ‘dress shopping’ … grrr! I had hoped that the few ounces I’ve lost would make that a more enjoyable process … NOT! I think what I would need to lose is the whole, freaking, left side of my body! But, I digress!

Then it was time to pick my son up from the party … and I was scrambling … because I was late … again!

When I got there I was pounced upon by son … ‘mom can so-and-so and I get together today?’ Now, I admit, I hate lack of planning, on a good day, but, when my To Do list is long, my brain cells cannot even begin to think about adding more to it! So, I said … ‘NO.’

And this is where momma guilt began … Not really, of course, because that is with me ALL the time! You see, I have this dream in my mind of getting the ‘Mom of the Year’ award … and I have had that annual award … on January 1, until 12:01am, when I blow it. But, I digress … again.

Lets just say the ride home was very quiet … and I felt it! When I did try to converse and soothe, I was met with ‘but Mom …’ And, my momma guilt let me feel the full weight of his sorrow. Not because his present sorrow was so valid, but because my momma guilt is so close to the surface for me when it comes to my son.

– I was home fully with my daughters … I started back to work before my son entered kindergarten.

– I taught my daughters how to cook, to sew, to read … my son, not so much.

– He is eleven, and I still haven’t taught him how to ride a bike 😦

– I have rarely gone on school field trips with him … his sisters … many!

– I rarely play any ball sports with him.

Wow! Can I wallow, or what? Suffice it to say, that on this particular day, EVERY violation, every failure, every fault I have ever made, in the life of my son, I remembered and felt. Also, suffice it to say, I threw my own pity party, lasting most of the entire day! And, my To Do list … not so much got done.

Once I had shed my guilt-ridden tears, went out on my own (that is the key … on my own) to get groceries, had a good dinner (thanks to the grocery store providing fresh bread and roast chicken), talked to my mom on the phone (I don’t need to tell her whats happening … just hearing her voice makes me feel better), and played a very neck-and-neck game of chess with my son … the day was seeming brighter.

It’s amazing how taking the time to see how his video game system works, and playing a game with him seems to help us to reconnect once again.

I know I will never get that elusive ‘Mom of the Year’ award, but the good night hug (that just about asphyxiated me), along with an eye to eye, ‘Mom, I love you so much,’ from my boy made my momma guilt fade …

Take that June Cleaver, Marion Cunningham, Caroline Ingalls, Clair Huxtable and yes, even you Jane Jetson!

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Entertaining an Angel

Posted in canada, FAMILY, GOD, life, The Hubby, The Kids, women, WONDER, tagged #angelsunaware, #entertaininganangel, #pregnancyloss, Angels, Comfort, Life on July 22, 2014| 5 Comments »

Sometimes … the past comes back to haunt, and once in a while … it comes back to soothe and reassure.

It was a sunny, warm spring day. Hubby and I had packed our modern picnic lunch (also known as fast food, picked up en route to the park), and were heading to a local park with our 20’ish month old daughter.

We drove until we found a park that we had not been to before (and I do not remember ever returning to again). The park was large, with a soccer field and baseball diamond towards the back. Parking was at the front, near the street. Also, towards the front was a small playground area with swings, and a sandbox. And near the playground were just a few picnic tables and benches.

Our daughter was very eager to get to the sandbox … we were very eager to eat our fast food picnic lunch, before the hot and crisp fries became cold and flopsy. And so, she played, and we ate … all of us enjoying the respite that a park provides.

And then, there she was …

A little girl had arrived at the sandbox, seemingly out of nowhere. She was a blond pre-schooler, who seemed older than her years. As quickly as she appeared, she befriended our daughter, and the two of them played, in the sandbox and on the swings, as though they had known each other all of their lives.

As we enjoyed watching their play with each other, we finally realized that this delightful little girl did not seem to have an adult with her. When we asked her who she was there with she pointed to the baseball game, happening towards the back of the park, and said, “they’re over there.” Although we thought it odd for her parents to allow her to be so far from them, at such a young age, we felt we had no alternative, but to believe her.

The two girls sat on the swings, and we responded to their requests to push them. As hubby and I pushed, we marveled at how the two looked so similarly, they could be sisters. Their blond hair swaying in the breeze, and their blue eyes shining with delight, their contagious giggles. Why, they could be … sisters …

And it hit us both … they could be sisters. They looked so much alike, their age difference … why that delightful little girl could be the same age as our first baby, who had never made it to live with us.

It had happened over three years before. At four months into our first pregnancy … the baby, our first baby, died (this wasn’t to be our first such loss, as over the years it was to happen four more times). We never knew the gender of that child, but we had named it, to provide for ourselves some bit of identity. We had decided on the name Alison, because it could be a boy, or a girl’s name. The name is an old one, meaning noble or truth.

The two girls continued to play happily, until it was time for us to leave.

Then we asked the little girl her name … and she smiled at us, and replied, “Alison.”

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Do You Love Me?

Posted in The Kids, WONDER, tagged Fear., GOD, Love, Searching, Trust, Wonder on June 19, 2014| 6 Comments »

There are stories in the Bible I love and have read, and studied over and over. One is the interaction between Simon Peter and Jesus.

“Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?”

“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”

Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.”

The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time,“Do you love me?”

He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.

Then he said to him, “Follow me!”

John 21 15-19

For me Jesus question, “do you love me?” could equally be asked, “do you love me, MOST?”

There have been many times when I have been challenged to love Jesus more than anything, more than anyone, in my life. But, there was one night (a few years ago), when, I believe, the challenge came from God. And I believe I even heard His voice … maybe not with my ears, but certainly with my heart.

It was to be a great evening! I was taking my daughter and her friends to a concert, and I got to go to a movie, of MY choosing, all alone! Oh, the bliss! There would be no princess, no space creatures, no war story. No, I was going to go to a chick flick, eat far too much popcorn (with butter), and NOT have to take a single person to ‘pee’ just when the story was getting good.

I went to the theater, just down the street from the concert venue. I ate immense amounts of buttery popcorn. I laughed. I cried. And I sighed. I left feeling girlie-good! So I rolled into my van (feeling the effects of immense amounts of buttery popcorn), and steered away from the theater, towards the concert venue.

Hum, I wondered, should I go shopping? No, the stores were about to close. Maybe a coffee shop? No, there was no place in my body for any more ingesting. Maybe ‘hang out’ at the grocery store? Seriously, you know you are old and lead a boring life when you actually, seriously, consider spending your Friday night ‘hanging out’ at a grocery store. Can we say, LAME?! (And all of this self-questioning happened in mere moments).

As I approached the concert venue I was amazingly, inwardly compelled to drive into the venue parking lot, by ‘something’ that seemed to be communicating to me, ‘you need to be there’. And, so, I went.

Then I parked and thought, now what? I knew it would be over an hour until the concert would be over. Heck, I thought, the headlining group was probably just starting. Hum, thought my conniving mind, I bet I could just walk in to the concert, and enjoy the headlining group … for FREE (Scottish heritage … oh, ya, baby!). And once ‘free’ was part of this idea there would be no backing down.

So, I walked into the venue, the church, where the concert was happening. I was able to walk right up to where the concert was in full gear. The place was packed! I stood just inside the doorway, watching and listening. A modern hymn of praise was being sung, being shouted, to Hosanna in the highest.

I stood there, thanking God that people use their gifts from Him to honor the Giver of those gifts. And that God would use those people, those gifts to open up this generation’s eyes to the things unseen. It was a ‘solo in a crowd’ praise party for me.

Then the second song began. It was rockier, and the crowd in there were having a blast!

And then …

Something up front fell … ‘I hope it didn’t hit anyone (my daughter)’

The music stopped … ‘It must have hurt someone (my daughter?)’

Noises of chaos, and people moving, climbing, back over pews … ‘God, don’t let it be my daughter’

DO YOU LOVE ME … ?

‘Huh? Of course I love you. But where is my daughter?’

A fire alarm was sounding … ‘This isn’t good. Where is my daughter?’

People were exiting the building, from all exits … orderly, quietly … ‘What is going on? Where is my daughter?’

I started to move forward, into the sanctuary … it didn’t feel like sanctuary. I turned around, and walked out.

I noticed people, running down a stairway. I walked towards the stairs, and (so hesitantly) down the stairs, not knowing where they would lead me. I saw people rushing into a room, a hall. I saw people lying on the floor, and others attending to them. They were HURT! … ‘is my daughter in there?’

DO YOU LOVE ME … MORE?

‘What? You are asking that NOW? … Oh, what are you asking me? What are you asking of me? Please … please don’t take my daughter … But … yes … yes I do love you more …’

I started to move forward, into the room … there didn’t seem to be … room, for me. I turned around, and walked out.

I walked back up the stairs.

‘Please, please help me find my daughter. Wherever she is, please help me find her.’

YOUR CELL PHONE

(I do not remember that line from John’s gospel!) I pulled my cell phone from my bag, confused as to how it could lead me to my daughter. Then I remembered! My daughter had used my cell phone to call one of her friends who had not showed up, just before the others went into the church, for the concert. Maybe, that number would be on my phone, and, maybe if I called it, I could find my daughter.

I searched the recent calls … it was there! … ‘thank-you’

I dialed, and the call was answered by her friend … ‘thank-you’

Then, reality. What if the answers she had for me were not what I wanted? Could I hear that?

DO YOU LOVE ME … MOST?

Do I love you … most? Oh, but, you asked me that of my first child. And that child never took it’s first breath. But, you did hear my cry, and gave again. But, she is only 15, was she only ‘on loan’? Oh, right, they are all only on loan. They … she is your child before she is my daughter. YOU love HER most …

Yes, my Lord … I do love you … most … and, her life … I leave it in your hands …

I took a deep breath. There were three of the seven together just outside (I was still in the building, still just outside the sanctuary … so far from sanctuary). And, my daughter? No, she was not with them.

I rushed to those three, who I barely knew, and hugged them. And I felt the strength return to my wobbly legs, as I realized that, I could hold them, support them, and comfort them, as their moms would, if they were there.

Another girl arrived shortly after … hugs, tears, questions … answers? The floor … fell?

One of the girl’s sister had been there … where the floor … was.

And my daughter? The newest of the group saw her at the other side of the church … ‘thank-you, thank-you, thank-you’

I walked … right? I rushed, with the concerned sister, to where we were told my daughter was.

As we moved forward, with sounds of sirens, road closures, emergency personal absolutely everywhere, It felt surreal, like I was walking, living through, a dream. A very bad dream.

Then, right in front of me … ‘thank-you, thank-you, thank-you’

And I held my daughter … with an understanding of thanksgiving that I had not felt, since the day she was born.

‘thank-you’

Another girl was with her … hugs, tears, questions …

Soon after with found the missing sister.

I drove them all home.

Reunions … hugs, tears, questions …

But, that night, the questions for me were …

DO YOU LOVE ME?

DO YOU LOVE ME … MORE?

DO YOU LOVE ME … MOST?

And my ultimate answer?

Yes, I love you … the most, and I will follow you, to the corners of the earth.

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A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes …

Posted in The Kids, WONDER, tagged #adreamisawishyourheartmakes, #wonder, Cinderella, Dancing, Dreams, Hope, Prince, Princess on June 16, 2014| Leave a Comment »

Oh how I love this song … when I hear it, I think of miracles. You see, my eldest daughter is a bit (those who know her realize just how much of an understatement that it) of a Cinderella. As, a matter of fact, the theme of her 17th birthday party was ‘Disney Princesses’. And she, as Cinderella, hosted her ‘dressed princessy’ friends to the ball … but I digress.

So, the song reminds me of a miracle. The miracle is, that between his love for his daughter, and her love of all things princess, my hubby dances with his first born princess to this very song. Now how, you ask, is this a miracle? Ya gotta know my hubby! Dancing is one sacrifice he is not normally willing to make! He has no interest in dancing, at all, period. I think I could count, on two hands, how many times he has danced with me in our eons of marriage. Sometimes he ‘pretends’ to dance in public, mocking himself as he moves in a manner similar to the groundhog in the movie ‘Caddyshack’.

But, I digress …

There is something so sweet about dancing with your dad, papa, daddy, pops … whatever you call him, to dance with your father IS to be princess, even if that one dance at the ball is 2:42 long. To dance with your father is to dance with the prince of the kingdom.The only kingdom a little girl knows of.

I remember dancing with my dad one time. I was in elementary school (aka the years of princesses), and my parents were preparing to go to a dance at the local high school (when you are from a ‘village’ of about 1600 people, there is only one high school). My mom (probably late … Mom, you know it’s true) was still making herself beautiful, and my dad was listening to the music on their ‘K-Tel’ album, playing on the ‘record’ player (oh, how old I am). And, although I cannot remember who initiated for sure, we were dancing together. Me and my dad. My memory is vivid of being transported to the castle, dressed in a beautiful gown, dancing with my prince …

And that memory made me believe that dreams do come true. That there was a prince for me (other than my dad), that, one day I would wear a gown and be held by my prince, and live happily ever after. It is a memory of such a significant event, that it ‘fed’ the princess within, to grow, to hope to dream for something even beyond my imagination.

Every little girl needs a memory like this … of dancing with her dad, or whoever her living prince is. She needs this memory, like she needs food, and education, and ‘stuff’ … probably more than ~~education~~ ‘stuff’ 😉 A little girl needs the model of a strong, protective, loving prince, so that when she is sought out by the frogs and toads of life, she will be able to recognize the dance of a prince among them. My hubby has had very big shoes to fill, and my daughters future princes will have big ones to fill as well.

But the dance is not just for ‘Cinderella’ or ‘Belle’ or ‘Beauty’ or “Ariel’. No, it is as much for good old Prince Daddy, as for the Princess. It’s just that, dad’s, you forget, what the prince never knew, while she is still in your arms …

“Cause all too soon, the clock will strike midnight, and she’ll be gone”

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Christmas Eve Tradition

Posted in christmas, The Kids, WONDER, tagged Candy, christmas, Dad, Handed Down, Kids, Shopping, Traditions on December 24, 2013| 3 Comments »

Well, being the highly spiritual family that we are, the Christmas Eve tradition that I am about to share will surely amaze all who read about it.

This family tradition goes back to my hubby’s family, and specifically, with his dad.

Hubby fondly remembers that on Christmas Eve he and his big brother would go to the grocery store with their dad. They would buy whatever staples the family would need for the Christmas feast to be enjoyed the following day.

But, that was not all! Hubby’s father would also treat his boys to some treats that were not regular purchases for their cash strapped family. Things like potato chips, pop and ice cream.

When hubby and I started a family he was confident that this tradition must go on. And it still does. Around mid afternoon, on December 24th, hubby and the kids load into the family vehicle. They head to our local grocery store … with sugar plums dancing in their heads!

When at the store they pick up whatever list of items that I need to prepare the roast beast the next day. And then they pick up their treats. The only way to define their purchases, is to say that they purchase all of the items that I would almost never buy. Things like sugary cereals, ice cream (but not vanilla … a flavor resembling a favorite chocolate bar), pops (sodas, for the American reader), and candy.

Then they come home, hyped up on the anticipation of eating all of the treats that they have purchased.

There are also huge amounts of eagerness to show their treasures to me, since those are treasures that I would never purchase (a bit of gloating is what is happening).

I love that our kids have this special tradition with their dad. I love that it is something that they only share with him. To me that is worth the nutritional emptiness of what they have bought. Spiritual? No. But definitely memory-creating! And the oral stories that get passed down from year to year will continue on into the future lives of our kids, as they grow and form their own families.

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