He Should Be Here

Lately, many wonderful opportunities in the track arena have opened up for the Prince. He won the 200m at the State Special Olympic Games, came in first in the 100m, 200m, and 400m at a Paralympics Invitational, has qualified for the National Junior Disability Championships, and was recognized by the School District for his first place finishes. The Prince has some wonderful opportunities to become more active in Paralympic sports, to include goalball, and has been told he is a natural at the sport.

His daddy should be here to see it.

In the last couple of years, the Prince and his dad had conflicts due to normal teenage issues, but their bond was growing stronger as the years passed. Mark wanted his son to work harder at school, to fulfill his potential, and while the two of them argued quite a bit, the love was there. The night before Mark had his stroke, he told me that all he wanted was for his children to be happy. If that meant the Prince stayed focused on video games, so be it. He just wanted to be able to watch his children enjoy life.

Mark would be proud of his son. The Prince has pushed hard to become better at running, and is determined to train more. He worked hard to pass algebra, coming out with a higher grade than expected. While the Prince is still fighting his blindness, he is starting to learn to utilize more of the tools available to him, and he is determined to do better.

I shed tears tonight. Some out of pride for all my son has overcome and all he has accomplished. But more were because his dad, my husband, isn't here to see it.

Not sure where the blessing is in this situation tonight.

Happy Father's Day!

My dad and his favorite item - the coffee maker

I am unabashedly a daddy's girl. Even at the age of 42. My mother, to this day, gets irritated with me because she says I always take his side. But when you have a dad like mine, you can't help but be his biggest fan! There are so many reasons why he's a great father, and one reason is no better than another, so here is a Top Ten of why I am, with a capital "D," a Daddy's Girl:

1. Even at my advanced age and no longer fit this nickname, he will still call me "Runt" sometimes. That tickles me!
2. He is the only coach that would consistently put me in the softball game. Even though I was horrible, and even at game-winning times knowing I am not even close to being the best player. My dad did this because he believes in fair play, and letting everyone have a chance to contribute. Not a bad lesson to learn as a young girl.
3. The summer between my junior/senior year in college, I decided that I didn't like my major, and wanted to switch. Instead of telling how foolish that would be, Dad listened to my reasons, explored the pros and cons, and let me decide for my self what to do. Patience and practicality - another good lesson.
4. When my grandpa (my mom's dad) died, my sister was going to take me to Iowa for the funeral, but I didn't want to wait the extra day or two to go. I wanted to get to my grandma sooner than that. My dad drove hours out of his way to come and get me from college. It wasn't the first time he did something like that, and it wasn't the last. He always shows his love for his children.
5. He is giving my children memories that are similar to those I treasure of my grandpa - teaching them to fish, spending special time with them. My dad is the best grandpa for them!
6. For a time when I was in middle school/early high school, my dad did the grocery shopping after he picked me up from piano lessons on Saturday morning. Rare was the time that he couldn't be talked into a candy bar (my mom never could be talked into that!). It made up for the generic potato chips.
7. My church youth group was never turned away from my house - my dad was always willing to make up a huge batch of popcorn for whomever came over.
8. Need a door knob fixed? Dad can do that. Heavy pictures hung? I can count on my dad for that, too. He's also good with moving heavy items, helping to pick out cars, fix screen doors, and changing garage light bulbs. There is very little he can't figure out.
9. When I was a Peace Corps volunteer, my parents were supposed to come visit me. My mom was a bit nervous about travelling to a third-world country, but my dad said he was coming no matter what. Always up for an adventure, that is my dad.
10. This sort of goes along with the above, but no matter what, my dad is there for me. Whenever I call in panic, he listens and advises - but he advises only if asked. He will stay there with me through very hard situations, and he will stand in for me. Four months ago, he helped me through the worst situation I could be in, and he stayed calm and rational to be my rock.

My dad shows faith in action. He is a man who might not talk much about his faith, but you know what it means to him by his actions, by his manners, by how he treats and helps others. There are so many reasons why he is a great man, I could not do him justice. But if you have the good fortune to meet him, you will see in a moment why no superlative could do him justice. Can you tell I love my dad?!

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, DAD! YOU ARE LOVED!!!

My Shell

the Prince, Shell, the Princess

It is graduation season all over, and a young lady very important to me is about to graduate from high school. Shell is the oldest child (of four) of my sister and the only girl. It seems almost impossible that it is time for her to start college, as it seems like just last week I was receiving word that she was born. She is a remarkable young lady.

From the time she was born, Shell has been her own person. She is strong-willed, opinionated, and stubborn. Yet Shell is also sensitive, nurturing, and caring. She is an all-around strong young woman, both physically, emotionally, and mentally. Shell has always held true to her principles, even during those tough high school years - if she doesn't agree with an activity, she doesn't particpate. She is quick to temper on behalf of a perceived injustice, and she is the first to offer help if needed.

This isn't to say she is a saint who does no wrong, but Shell is as honest as the day is long. She tries to always do what is right, not what is easy. While Shell can be a bit of a brat, one can't hold that against her - she comes by it honestly. After all, she does share my middle name - she has to have some of my characteristics! But while she might be a brat (you know you are, Shell!), she is quick to realize when she is one and corrects herself. There isn't a kinder, sweeter, intelligent young lady out there in this senior class.

As one could tell, I love my girl. Never more so than when Mark was in the hospital. This child, correction - this young lady insisted on her mom letting her fly out. During her important senior year, my Shell insisted she be there for the only person who could stop her from crying when she was a baby. (When even her mother couldn't comfort her, Shell would coo for her Uncle Mark.) When Shell arrived, she wasn't uncomfortable being in the hospital room. And on his last day on this earth, Shell was there. She wasn't afraid to hold his hand, to rub his arm, to give him a kiss. When Mark was passing, Shell didn't become hysterical with crying - she was calm and loving. When I needed to leave the room for any reason, Shell was right there to sit in my place and hold Mark's hand exactly as I was, so he would always be comforted and loved. And in an act that shows what a strong and kind young woman Shell is, when I had to sign the papers for his passing, Shell stayed with his body, holding his hand, and wasn't frightened. This remarkable young lady wanted to be there for her uncle.

I am so proud of you, Shell. Whether you continue with nursing as your major or choose another, you will be an outstanding success. You couldn't be more loved!

Shell and her Uncle Mark

Emotions After 3 Months & 2 Days

Yesterday, I had a not-so-mature fit while talking to my mother. My mom, the same lady who worked her fingers to the bone taking care of out-of-town guests and family for two weeks. The lady who has come up more in the past three months than she did all of last year. The lady who is working hard on a special gift for my baby, the Princess. The lady who regularly gives up chunks of her time to help me by taking care of the children. I became upset because she hadn't called me on Monday, which was the three-month anniversay of Mark's passing.

While intellectually I know that there are many people who miss Mark and think of him often, sometimes it feels like I am the only person who remembers him, besides the children. Noone really talks about him to me, and I feel like he was such an important person, people should be remembering him. That is not to say people set out to deliberately avoid the topic of his life, but the conversation usually is about how myself and the children are doing. And their caring about us is SO appreciated.

Today, my mom told me how she was constantly thinking of him. That she misses Mark every time she walks into the room he would stay in when he was in downstate Illinois for work. That she has a picture of him on her desk playing mah jongg, and she smiles thinking of how passionately he played the game. That she misses him so much she still sometimes cry. And that people sometimes don't want to upset me by talking about him, and how they miss him.

Is it sick of me that hearing all of this made me feel better? It made me remember that he DID matter to others, that there were many more people who loved him than just the children and me. It felt like a weight had been lifted - I wasn't alone in my grief. Someone I love misses and loves the man who meant (and means) the world to me.

I would encourage anyone who knows a person who has lost a loved one to talk about the one who has passed. It helps more than you could know to hear how memories others have.

Yet once again, my mom has been the source of a blessing to me.

Mistakes

Have you ever meddled in something that you thought was the right thing to do, but in retrospect, was the totally WRONG thing to do? I did that today, and I am all conflicted inside. On the one hand, I felt a matter needed to be addressed, as it involved having my child not telling me something. On the other hand, when parents get in the middle of a dispute among your child and other friends, matters never end well.

It is never fun to be yelled at, told you are lying, have your child labelled the cause of all major disputes. How does one react in a positive way? I tried being calm, and to some extent succeeded, but I don't know that I represented Christ well today. And while I would like to make the situation better, it is quite possible that trying to fix things would just make it worse.

Sigh....it is hard to find the blessings today.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

When I was young, I loved spending time with my grandmother. She always had time to listen to what I had to say, passed on her love of baking to me, and sent us all home from her house with a wicked case of heartburn because she filled us with good food the entire time I was there. And I used to think often that I hoped my children would feel about their grandma the way I felt about mine.

My prayers were answered. My mom has filled my children's lives with love and joy, more than I could ever have imagined. Whether it is shopping at garage sales with the Prince, or baking and sewing with the Princess, she always has time and attention for them. She even learned how to send audio texts to/from the Prince - and if you know my mother, you know what an accomplishment that is! She will spend hours sewing blankets and pajamas for the children. When the Princess was younger, my mom sewed all of her dresses since the Princess was too slim for store-bought dresses. When the Prince was young, she made special vests for his pre-school class for them to practice buttoning and zippering. Even now, my mom will make the children's favorite dishes when we visit. She fills their lives with love, hugs, and unconditional acceptance.

As much as she shines as a grandma, she has really shone as my mom. While I didn't appreciate the effort made at the time, she would spend hours making clothes for me when I was little. My Barbie dolls had many homemade dresses - many made without patterns. My love of reading and books were encouraged by the fact that whatever paperback book I wanted from the book order, she purchased for me, even though money might have been tight. My friends were always welcome at my house; in fact, most Sundays, my youth group would end up at my house. While I wasn't the easiest of teenagers to raise, my mom always let me know I was loved. When I had mono for three months, my mom would always come give me a kiss goodbye before she left for work, and several times a week would bring me home shakes.

Even now that I am an adult (no snickering, please!), my mom shines as a mom. I've never heard her complain when I've called her several times a day for silly reasons. She still makes my favorite meals when I go visit. I still crawl in her bed early in the morning, just to talk. When I moved to Illinois, she lined all of my cabinets with contact paper - no small feat, and she did so good-naturedly. She'll play mah jongg with me as long as I'd like. And when Mark became my husband, she accepted him as her 2nd son, loved him unconditionally, and taught him that hugging was a good thing!

While there are innumerable reasons why my mom is a good mother, there is no better example than what she did for me in February of 2010. When Mark entered the hospital, my parents dropped everything and came up to help me with the children. For the next two weeks, my mom barely left my house. She cooked, cleaned, and did laundry for more than a dozen people. She watched over my children so I could watch over Mark. And when I didn't think I could hold on anymore to my sanity, my mom did that for me with words of encouragement.

No words could properly express how grateful I am for the wonderful lady that is my mom. I am very blessed to be her daughter, and my children's lives are blessed having her as a Grandma.

I love you, Mom!

Good People

Recently, I was able to spend a few days with my grandparent's at my folk's house. Grandma is 90 years old, and Grandpa is going to be 95 this year. In July of this year, they will celebrate 75 years of marriage. Each are devoted to the other.

When I married, I wanted a marriage like my parents. My parents wanted a marriage with devotion like their parents had. We all were lucky, no - blessed is the better word, to have found devotion. What kind of devotion did we want?

The kind that makes my grandpa, though frail and a bit unsteady on his feet, give his wife her daily shots. The kind of devotion that has him helping her with her stockings at night. The devotion that has my grandma wanting my grandpa served first. The devotion that still enters my grandma's voice when she talks about what my grandpa does for her. The devotion based on a belief in God and the sanctity of marriage.

I heard the steely determination in my grandpa's voice when he spoke of helping my grandma for as long as he could. I had asked him if there was help for him when he needed to give her her shots, or take her blood pressure. He told me, "I will do this myself for her as long as I can." He was firm and unflinching, and I was humbled by his love for her.

My grandparents don't use flowery language with each other. There are no grand displays of affection, no sweet nicknames for them - just "Mother" and "Dad." But their actions speak volumes. My family has been blessed with their example.



And while I wasn't blessed with 75 years of marriage, I was blessed for 17 1/2 years with a man who was like my grandfather in his devotion to his family. I hope I was like my grandma in my devotion to him.