he is home

kyle lauren chiefs game Part of my heart went missing this morning.

My son was here for Christmas… Nine days! Wow!!! In the weeks/days leading up to his arrival, I was SO over-the-top excited. It would be absolutely amazing to have him here that long! Such an incredible Christmas blessing. As excited as I was, however, I knew there were also risks. Having him here that long would mean that my heart might start to play tricks on me. And boy was I was right. It certainly did.

My heart went right into “mama mode”. He was back home. In his old room, his old bed. His dishes were in the sink. He was asleep on the couch with the dogs. His towel was back on his bathroom floor. It was just like it was before he moved away.

There were friends and family; dinners and parties; games and movies. We ate too much and slept too little. We laughed, we cried, we reminisced.

Until this morning…

I woke up with that feeling. You know the one. It’s dark and empty and makes you want to just close your eyes and return to the comfort of your dreams. But reality is unavoidable. So after a good cry (Wait. Is there such a thing…?), I walked down the hall towards his (old) bedroom. The light was on. I knocked. “What sounds good for breakfast? Eggs? French toast? Smoothie?” I could see him searching my face; my eyes. He knew. “A smoothie would be great.”, he replied, almost apologetically. I feel terrible about being so sad in front of him, but he knows that is just the way of my heart. The next hour passed in a heartbeat. It was time to go. His cousin’s car was in the driveway ready to begin the eight hour, 500 mile journey home. Yes… Home. The reality is, this is not “home” for him anymore. In his heart; Yes. A part of his heart will always be “home” here… in our hearts. No matter where life takes all of us. But he has moved on, and it is just as it should be. That, my friends, is one hefty of dose of reality. I have no regrets, though. None. I wouldn’t trade a single moment of all the happy, even knowing that the sad would follow. We must always remember to savor each and every moment that we are blessed with.

Exactly eight hours later; his text… “Made it back safe & sound. Miss & love you.” He includes a sad emoji and a big red heart. He is not an emoji guy. That was for me. I simply respond, “me too“.

He is home.

quiet time

4 / 18 / 14

Every Good Friday when we were growing up, my mom had a rule. Between the hours of 12:00-3:00, we were required to have “quiet time”, alone in our rooms. A time of quiet reflection during those hours when Jesus would die on the cross. As a mom of two adult children, I now have a new perspective.

First of all, you have to know my mom. She is funny. She has been known, at times, to maybe “stretch the truth” a little (?)… but it’s always funnier when she tells the story. She pulls her grandkids to the side and tells them outright, “Grandma lies.” They laugh. One of my brothers will roll his eyes (usually the dad of the one listening to Grandma’s story), and we move on. OK – So back to the subject… our “time of reflection on Good Fridays“.

Some of you may remember from earlier posts that I am the oldest of seven kids. When I was 10 years old, my mom was 29 and had five kids; me being the oldest. (Good news! Found a family pic from our church directory to capture just that moment in time… That’s me to the right of my mom – Ha!) So when Good Friday rolled around, off to our rooms we went. At 12:00. Until 3:00. To be really honest with you, I can’t really remember much of what we did during that time. My mom told us that it would rain at some time during that three hour stretch, so my sister and I (shared a room) would spend some of the time lifting the heavy shade on our window to peer out and search for those ominous, rain producing, clouds… One thing I DO remember (unfortunately), because she did it all the time. My sister always had more money than me; and she liked to count it. Out loud. Coin, by coin, by coin… She had me as an unwilling, yet captive, audience for three hours. Lucky her. Looking back, I have to laugh. I realized as an adult, that as kids, we actually had “quiet time” a lot!! Not just on “Good Friday”. You see, my mom was also very smart. And resourceful. She was merely attempting to maintain her sanity. That was why she would slip off to the bathroom with her coffee and a weeks worth of magazines. We would hear the “click” as the door locked behind her. The rule…? Don’t knock unless someone is bleeding. Bad.

I was (doubly) blessed with twins when I was almost 30, and they were, and still are, such a joy in my life!! In raising our kids, my husband and I made a conscious decision to pick and choose the pieces of our individual childhoods that we wanted to take forward with our own children. Kind of like combining really dark chocolate with… well; just about anything! It’s all about the mixture. “This” worked; “that” – Ummm… not so much. So guess what made the cut from my childhood? Yep. “Good Friday quiet time”. 12:00-3:00. They could read, work on puzzles, quietly listen to music (pre-appoved; by me!). There was no TV, radio, computer, phone or friends during that time. And they were fine with it really. The older they got, the more they understood why there were being asked to do it. It was a way for them to, hopefully, prepare their hearts for Easter Sunday.

So, Mom – if you’re reading this – you will be glad to know that I still, to this day, honor that quiet time every Good Friday. I usually plan a quiet “project”; something that I can do by myself, at home, without really thinking. Today is no exception. It is a beautiful day and the birds are chirping like crazy. Not a rain cloud in sight… I have selected a “project” (more on that later) and I am ready to put on some beautiful music and spend the time reflecting. Quietly. 12:00 until 3:00…

my little girl

3 / 28 / 146 / 4 / 17

I woke up one week ago, on a Thursday morning, with a lump in my throat.

It had been a long, sleepless night; so many thoughts rolling around in my heart; so many memories. Sesame Street and tea parties. Beanie Babies and Disneyworld. Time had flown by so very quickly. Like a blur, really. An “over-the-top” happy, wonderful, “I am blessed” kind of blur. I stumbled out of bed hoping that coffee might clear the brain fog. Thought of the day: Reality is overrated. The truth is, I much prefer a world of happy disillusionment (is that even a word?). My baby is growing up. Her first day of first grade. Kindergarten was hard enough, but first grade would be all day. What would I do without her? She had laid out her clothes the night before and her backpack was waiting near the door. Her bedroom door opened and down she came, so ready to greet the day ahead. She looked so beautiful. So grown up. The coffee was strong, and the fog was starting to lift. Or was it…?? My eyes tried to focus on the “Tweety Bird” backpack sitting by the door, but my vision was blurred. Wait. Was that actually a leather briefcase and a name badge? I blinked. I blinked again. Hard. A single tear rolled down my cheek…

My little girl was all grown up, and headed out for her first day in the business world. A “big girl job”!! It was HER day. A day she deserved; a day she had EARNED. As a little girl, we always said she was our feisty little tiger – and she still is. It has served her well over the years. When life threw obstacles in her path, she never let them get the best of her. She rose to the challenge each and every time, and slayed the dragon. That girl of mine is one tough cookie, let me tell you! She is smart, determined, personable and one heck of a hard worker. As her mom, we traveled much of that road together. The ups, and the downs. She has taught me much about life. And love. And happiness. Today I stand in awe of the woman she has become. I am blessed to be her mom. “A daughter is the happy memories of the past, the joyful moments of the present and the hope and promise of the future.” – Author unknown

Little girl in a pink tutu with a sassy little spirit… or a beautiful young woman in “business casual” with a confident smile?

I guess for me, she will always be both.

This beautiful song is for my mother, daughter, and someday, perhaps, my daughter’s daughter… with love xo

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLS0Y40WwlA&w=420&h=315]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLS0Y40WwlA

live happy

time marches on…

7 / 15 / 13

Lauren & Kyle highchairs

OK – So I’m still supposed to be on my “summer sabbatical” from all social media. But I’m kinda sad today… and I just needed to tell someone. So I’ll make it quick. Then it doesn’t really count…?

After a restless night’s sleep, I awakened with this gnawing, empty feeling way down in my gut that only a mom would know. It was that helpless feeling of time marching on; whether you agreed to be part of the band… or not. You see, my babies turned 23 today. Without me. Yep – The very first time that they have been away from us on their birthday. Now before you start telling me all of that logical, “after all, they are ADULTS now“, baloney, let me just say right up front that I get all that. I, honestly, could not be more proud of the adult children that we have raised. We feel that we have been mightily blessed and thank God for them each and every day. xo

But moms ~~want~~ need to feel needed sometimes… Ok, maybe all the time? I dunno. It varies. My sister and I were talking on the phone last night about this very thing. We complain about having to drive them all around town when they are little… here, there and everywhere. Some days are endless. Then they go off and get their driver’s license. That’s great news, right? Sure it is. Until that moment when you wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat realizing that they don’t need you to drive them anywhere… anymore. Time marches on. Your job there is done.

You see, the heart is not the brain. These two body parts operate quite independently of one another. There is logic, and then there is love. In my logical brain, I am so happy for them today. They are with each other, and they are with good friends. Everything is exactly the way it should be; and this is good. Time marches on.

But deep in my soul, they will always be my babies… and today, selfishly, my heart aches like crazy.

live happy ~ Cathy