Adam and Krystal, it's time. 

Christmas is just a blink behind us and we have turned our sights, ever aware of passing time, to the next event.   Your marriage.

Symbolically,  you will begin your marriage at a wonderful time of the year; thankful for all your blessings, surrounded by those you love and also ready for the new beginning and strongly  intentioned resolutions.  Be resolute in your love and commitment to each other.

Time is such a lovely "theme" or energy for your day.  It's more precious than that beautiful diamond ring and is so fleeting.

Take time for just each other, in your busy, social and involved lives. Talk, ground and calm each other; to create a haven that is your favorite place-together.

Appreciate the best in each other and let those gifts grow and the little irritations fall away.  Time is best spent concentrating on all the good stuff.

As time goes by, your marriage will be strengthened as much by "surviving" the hard times as it will be by celebrating the good times, the joyful celebrations.  The richness of a shared history creates an amazing, powerful bond.

KK, as I watch Adam become your husband, I'll know he's so loved and cared for and that you understand all the elements that make him Adam.  He can be complicated and his filter can be a little loose when he's talking, but his heart is in the right place and he longs to be one of the "good ones".  He's been an "(over)thinker" since day one and it's served him well  thus far although the process can be hard to watch. ;-)  His eyes may be heart melting, but it's "who" he is that melts mine. Please take good care of my firstborn. He means the world to me.

Adam, as you kiss your bride and begin your time as a husband remember the sweet examples of marriage you have been privileged to witness.  No union is perfect, but in your parent's and grandparent's marriages you had a first row seat to love, honor, humor, respect and dogged commitment.   You have chosen a lovely bride. Love her like you have been taught to love.  

I hope you have the time of your lives.

With love,
Mom

Merriment and Marry-ment.


https://goo.gl/photos/nn88Tk1aWgYPHf5j8

Dear Sweet Norah Kate,

Today you are one year and three days old and this letter is long overdue.  I had intentions of writing you many such letters from the day I learned you were on your way, but instead I just embraced the days until you arrived and every one with you since.

Grandpa and I found out we were going to be your grandparents in early February 2015.   We came  to your house to work on an electrical project.  Your mom and I visited while your dad and Grandpa finished the lights.   When we all sat down in the afternoon, your mom dropped (rather unceremoniously) three positive pregnancy tests on the table in front of me.  They were wrapped in a cloth and for a second I thought she was giving Grandpa a thank you for his help.  I guess in a way she was!!! 

What a delightfully,  wonderfully  happy afternoon that was.  Your sweet parents sat across the room from us on a couch and Grandpa and I sat opposite.  After big hugs and lots of happy tears we began to chat.  Your mom and dad were happily shell shocked and just answered the questions I peppered them with.  Grandpa didn't say much at all because he can never talk when he's crying happy tears
. SO....I had to do the talking for all four of us!  I happily babbled my excitement.  I gave advice, imagined your face, and basically got your future all planned out.  I'll bet your tired parents were so glad to see us leave.  I wanted to move in!  :-)

I always knew they would be wonderful parents, but your parent's  care for you had begun long before that February day.  Your mom took the best care of herself, for you and your dad supported her every step of the way.  Through the tired, queasy days, through the warm summer days, the emotional ones (just a very few) , and the hard to sleep nights, he was a patient supporter and she was already a selfless mama.

We went on vacation that month and I hated to leave.  I was busy (in my mind) mothering your mom, while she mothered you.  (I'm sure you'll do the same someday).  We got a picture of your healthy ultrasound while we were away and we were just giddy.  We told everyone we met along the way that we were going to be grandparents and they were kindly polite to us. :-)  We were happy to learn you were healthy and doing well.

So many people were excited  to know you were joining all of us.  Parties were thrown for you and so many gifts were given to you.   You are surrounded by such a huge loving group of family and friends.  You will be loved and cared for all your days.  As your mom's tummy took a baby shape, so did your room.  Painting, decorating and waiting.  You were worth every minute of wait. 

Summer turned in to fall, and we were counting the days until we met you.  Little did we know, we didn't have to count very high.  Your mom went into labor on Grandpa's birthday (you know all this by now) and threw us all into a delighted tailspin.  I was working and missed FOUR calls from  your mom because I had stepped out of my office to another person's desk.  Imagine how I felt seeing that?!?!  I called her back so fast and she calmly told me it was baby day.  I didn't know for sure where I was going, but I knew I was leaving the office. Right then!   Grandpa picked me up and we pretended to loiter at home.  We failed.  We went to the hospital to say hello to your parents. Your dad was cool calm and collected but he emitted an undercurrent of nervous excitement.   Your mom looked so pretty and composed and she was smiling so big.   We didn't stay too long but it was a very reassuring visit.   I assumed you were hours and hours away. The doctor let us know that you were very close and that you'd be along early in the afternoon.  Goes to show you what I know! :-)  

We left to let Miss Betsy outside and to give her lots of love.   We knew that she would be a wonderful companion to and protector of you.  She hasn't disappointed.  She watches you so closely, guards you fiercely and protects you intensely (and loudly) ,  She is incredibly patient as you "share" her toys. 

We went out for a little birthday celebration for Grandpa to help pass the time and stopped at a flower shop to get an order underway for you.  Every new mom and baby need celebratory flowers!  We chose pink of course in spite of the fact the autumn colors were so beautiful. 

We got the news that you  had arrived and were healthy, but no other details.  It seemed so very long until we got to go in with your grandma and grandpa Dean to meet you.  Your parents were enjoying some well earned, tender moments getting to know you. .  I checked on my "baby"- your mom- and I felt like I couldn't drink in the scene fast enough.  Your happy grandparents, your grinning dad, your beautiful mom and You.   I signed your baby book wrong. (I didn't know there was an "h") and worried all the way home. I was irrationally sad that I hadn't looked at your feet.  I was a mess. I remembered hearing your dad say your name and it was slowly sinking in that you have my name as your middle name.    My goodness.   Uncle Adam was traveling and trying hard to get home to meet you.  So we worried about flight delays etc.  Aunt Gracie,  Aunt Krystal, Uncle Dustin came and we all fell in love with you together.  We had dinner for Grandpa who went home late that night.   In the quiet of your cute house, snuggling Betsy and then doing a load of laundry, of all things, my happy grandma tears flowed.

I have taken thousands of pictures of you.  Yay, digital age. You are super patient and haven't walked out on me yet.  Mostly, probably, because you just learned to walk. Yay, you!  Thank you for letting me put  you in funny hats and scarves and in baskets and for smiling for me when I whistle, sing and make all manner of ridiculous noises.   I have remembered songs that were long filed away in my brain.  I'm sorry I can't teach you how to carry a tune, but I can teach you how a song and a waltz around the room can lighten the mood.  (I'll be honest, you weren't always sunshine and rainbows when you were a "baby") . I am proud to say that 97.3% of the time, I could calm you down.  The other times you need the security of mom or dad.  I tried not to be offended.

We have had a wonderful year together. I come to your house on the one day a week that your mom has to be gone all day.  I usually sleep over on Tuesday night because I'm not an early morning person and I don't like commuter traffic.  So, I sleep in the room next door to yours and we can start our mornings together in our jammies.  You have seen me with bed head and wrinkled PJs and no makeup and you still seem to love me.  You're cool that way.

We've read books, walked the creaky floors at night, taken boat rides, charmed the dickens out of Grandpa (and pretty much everyone you meet) , worked through teething, taken walks around the neighborhood and just generally gotten our relationship off to a solid start.   You have paved the way for your cousins and siblings who we will have a grand time with.

 

Those are the basic facts of the last year, three  days and roughly nine months.  That part is easy.  The tricky part is telling you what you have done to my heart. You have reminded me of the miracles of human life and thrill of discovering the great big world.  I was nervous to have yet another person to love, but the offset to the worry is the boundless love and inexpressible joy that comes from knowing you. 

To the further adventures of Grandma and Norah Kate!
I love you fiercely.

14 months is hiatus enough.

I left my blog with the self depreciating thought that the world is full of brighter, funnier, more clever, more thought provoking "writers" and story tellers than I could ever be.    It took me this long to realize that was never my intent in the first place.    (No one ever said I was the sharpest tool in the shed)


I also had this concept that I hated to go to all this "effort" and then trust this site to forever protect these brilliant words.   I also felt that my unintelligible handwriting would be much more personal to my children someday (whomever was lucky enough to pluck the worn journal from the treasure trove of my possessions)  so I bought a charming little book with an artsy camera on the front and then I misplaced it before one drop of ink hit its beautiful pristine white lined pages.  That too, was a sign.

Additionally (as if I needed more) our hard drive was compromised-don't get me started- and all my pics, with the exception of about 1,000 were lost.   1,000 sounds like plenty until you compare it to the total of those lost-59,000.   Lesson learned.   Sort of.   I can live without  the endless sunsets, the duplicates, the running dogs, the blurry action shots, the blinkers etc.  What I "mourn" are the ones I reach for once in a while only to be reminded that they are lost -the irreplaceable ones.   Luckily, there are 100s  of photos thrown haphazardly in bins and boxes in the basement and a Shutterfly account that thus far has faithfully stored my images.   I guess I would make a great Secretary of State.   I refuse to negotiate with the bad guys for hostages.   Take that Crypto-virus losers.

I digress.

All that said, I am going to do some laundry and begin to think about what I have done since August 2014 aside from checking FB.

It's like a favorite book that you can't wait to finish but whose last page you dread to turn.  Each tiny box of slides I pick up to convert, I know I'm getting closer to the final one.    At first it felt overwhelming as I faced the books of slides-slipped into clear plastic "organizers" in 3" thick three ring binders. Protectors might have been a more appropriate word as "organized" didn't describe the lack of a discernible plan.   It was better this way.  I never knew if the one I picked up next would be a wedding from the 70s, a Christmas at my Grandparents from the 50s or one of my kids' birthdays.  That added to the fun. 

I vowed not to crop or edit any of them because sometimes the background was better than the intended subject.   The stereo whose weighty dials I can still almost feel in my hand, or the record player that pulled down like a murphy bed and then could be hidden away again when you were through listening.  The line of encyclopedias, the growing cedar bushes in the backyard that once seemed so big, the upholstery, the cars, the bike I learned to ride with my dad thumping (too briefly) along behind me, the dishes....the clothes.

I told myself I wouldn't convert the parades, the snowy landscapes, the sunsets and yet, for the most part I did. As someone who also prefers to be behind the camera, I felt such a connection to my dad, all over again.   Something made him push that button, use up that exposure and to part with money to produce an image for the rest of time.  And so I helped his image along a little bit.   He clearly loved his kids and his beautiful wife.  The handful of  times he shows up in a picture, his face adorable as ever, you can tell he probably had just made the dash into the frame with the self timer ticking away.  It always made such a great shot as the kids were so entertained by the process.   It didn't always work.  There are tops of heads, that didn't make the cut; or DID depending on how you look at it. Many are grainy, damaged, over exposed, under exposed and there are a handful that now have a Wilson hair streaking across the middle when I became less attentive to the conversion.  I love them all.  I love the blinks, the laughter, the posers, Polly's updo, matching outfits, adorable brothers, gorgeous mom, endless shots of John Ball statue and the story they tell. 

For all the years of "look at the birdie" and "1,2, 3.. Hilario"  I thank you Dad. 

The Lost Child of Philomena and the Found Child of Cassie Cameron

Gerbers

You know it's a great movie when it haunts you in the days following your night at the theater.  You know it's going to stay with you even longer if it follows a story much like the one your family "wrote" over 90 years ago.   Somehow even after all these years, the empathy and emotions aren't weakened.

It's the season again. Easter. Spring. New beginnings. Mother's Day.

A spur of the moment invitation to "Cassie's Girls" , the daughters, grand daughters, grand daughters-in law, great granddaughters to my sweet grandma Gerbers brought us together on the first gorgeous sunny warm night of spring.  While time together is always cherished, suddenly a night in a dark theater didn't seem quite as appealing as time outside, but a plan is a plan and off we went.

Well, it couldn't have been a better evening and as the true story of Philomena Lee unfolded on the giant screen in front of us, we were transported to our own family's story that mirrored this one over thirty years earlier.  

The specifics were very different but the mother's heart was the same.  The fear, the shame, the worry, the longing and the love.   All in the name of religion.

I loved, loved, loved the movie and it was made even more special by the almost palpable reaction of the daughters that lived the story by their mother's side.

The three beautiful Gerbers' Girls, who grew up with their loving parents on the farm in Scottville openly pined for "an older brother who could drive them to town", never knowing that those words would cause such pain to their parents.   Their lives were turned upside down with the receipt of this letter one spring day in 1962.  In an ironic and tender twist, this all took place over the Good Friday/Easter season. 

 A family completed, prayers answered and hearts full.

https://shipsandsalsa2014.shutterfly.com/


Do you need an escape from the winter that refuses to end?    We had an amazing time, stories to follow.