The Things I Loved About You

You came into my life without invitation. With wavy hair, eyes that seldom made contact with mine and a voice that was seldom heard. It would be a lie if I said I didn't struggle with who you were and how you came to be. With all of my careful planning, I can honestly say I didn't see you coming. But came you did and with you came an opportunity for God to test my strengths, my weaknesses and most of all my faith. Even though there were times I didn't understand, I just had to blindly trust there was a reason you had been brought into our lives. Bill Cosby once said that kids don't come with an instruction manual, and in this circumstance, he couldn't have been closer to the truth. Being a Mom was all I ever wanted to be.... I just didn't know if I wanted to be one to you.I didn't know how to be what you needed me to be. I was just as scared and confused about life as you were. We were both fish out of water desperately wanting to swim. Occasionally I would catch you looking at me like I had fallen off of a far away planet. Remembering that look makes me smile. I loved it when I would do or say something to one of the kids that was a little crazy and you would smile that little smile as if you were trying not to laugh. Sometimes I got the feeling that you were watching us like you would a play.... Not really sure if you were part of the cast or not... Trust me, you played a bigger part than you ever knew. After what seemed like forever, you settled in and allowed yourself to be comfortable with us. That made me so very happy. I loved watching you play with your brothers and sister. I loved how you protected the youngest from the torments of his other brother. I would smile to myself when I heard you jump in on his behalf..... This is what family should be. The first Christmas you got to spend with us was a special time. I remember watching you make sugar cookies with the kids, ice skating with your brother. On Christmas Eve night I was walking down the hall and I heard your little brother explain to you that you needed to be sure and get in bed early so Santa could come visit. I heard you say "Oh, I don't think Santa will come for me, but he'll come for you." Little did you know that Santa had been very busy making sure that you were well represented under the tree. I'll never forget the look on your face the next morning as you came down to watch your little brother find all of his surprises and he points out your corner of the room where stacks of surprises waited for you. I wish we had more times like those. When we got the phone call that September night, I felt like all of the wind had been sucked from my lungs. Actually I simply chose not to believe that anything tragic had happened. I sat on the plane headed home as home movies replayed in my head. I kept telling myself it would all pass and everything would be fine. I couldn't believe God would bring you into our lives and then allow you to be taken out..... I was wrong. A sadness fell on our family so thick that it covered us like a fog. There were still so many memories to be made, things that should have been said, things we should have done. It wasn't suppose to end this way, it wasn't suppose to end with death. Hanging in my kitchen is a large bouquet of flowers I took from your grave. In the center is a large sunflower,surrounded by smaller flowers. The sunflower reminds me of you, forever frozen in time. I may have failed you in a million ways, but it was never my intent. I may have done everything wrong, but my heart tried very hard to do everything right. If I could have changed your world and made everything perfect for you.... I would have. If I had known how little time we had together, I would have made the most of every second. You deserved so much more and I believe you were on your way to believing that about yourself. Missing you is the easy part, feeling like I failed you is hard. I know the thing you longed for most of all was not mine to give.The best I could do was to welcome you and make you feel at home, to show you what being part of a family was all about. When I look at your youngest brother he reminds me so much of you. I laugh at the irony. He smiles like you did, like he is desperately trying to hold it back. You may be gone, but you will never be forgotten. Your name is imprinted on my heart. It's a reminder that there is beauty in pain, freedom in discovery, and purpose in each and every one of us. You taught me a lot about the twist and turns of life, the importance of family and family traditions, but most of all you taught me a lot about myself.... and that's just one of many  things I love about you. 

Peas In A Pod

As adults we tend to obsess over the smallest things when it comes to our children. Kids should get more credit for being the flexible things that they are. Even under the most difficult circumstances kids can adapt and weather the storm while all the adults are literally pulling their hair out and begging for rocks to fall upon them. I had a friend once who was VERY obsessive over reading parenting books and about "learning to be a parent". She spent way too much time trying to do things by the book, that her natural parenting skills never really kicked in. I had listened her psychobabble and whining until I wanted to have her committed. One day she called me totally upset. She had successfully taken her daughters pacifier away but afterward she read an article that said she had done it wrong way. So what does she do???? I kid you not, she dug that pacifier out and followed the procedure explained in the article. It completely sent her child into a full fledged melt down. Hmm, the article didn't have a chapter for the meltdown. So what does she do? She calls me!! Because I may not be "college educated" but she knew I parented with a heavy dose of common sense. She just didn't know "How do you know this stuff?" (Heavy eye roll from me)"I use my brain." (slight smirk). So she tells me about the meltdown and how she is pretty certain that her child is going to need therapy during her early adult years because of the trauma of having her Binky brought back from the dead only to be ceremoniously thrown in the trash(I agree with the therapy part)."Jac, what should I do?" I asked her.... "Do you have a bunch of parenting magazines and parenting books lying around the house?" "Oh yeah, I have a ton of parenting literature." "Okay." I said.... "You need to gather all of them up (be sure not to miss one), gather them in your arms and go to the front door.... Open the front door and walk to the trash bin and toss them in. Then you need to set fire to them and vow never to pick another one up as long as you live!" Long stretch of silence.... Small chuckle... "You think that's the problem?" she asked... "Oh there is no doubt in my mind that is the problem. You had this hurdle passed until you read something in a book and instead of trusting your instincts, you relied on the book which screwed everything up. You have got to trust your instincts!" As a parent I want to protect my children and try my best to explain things to them in a way they will understand. Sometimes life throws you a curve ball and you just don't know the best way to present things to them. For instance.... When my oldest 2 children where very young, 7 and 4, we discovered my husband had a son from a previous relationship. Yeah, it's the kind of revelation you watch on a soap opera, not something that happens in real life. Except it did happen in real life and regardless of the circumstances surrounding the discovery, we were faced with the task of not only getting to know this child, but also introducing him to his brother and sister.To say things were awkward would be an understatement. Trust me.... I haven't found a parenting book yet that discusses this type of situation. It's one of those things that leave you no options except to just lay down the honest to God truth. So we sat the kids down and as gently as possible told them that they had an older brother that they would be meeting soon. We answered any questions they had, which were very few, and then they skipped off to continue tormenting each other the way they always did. I looked at my husband, he looked at me and we both kind of sighed and said... "That wasn't so bad." Of course in the back of my mind I know that they don't really understand. As an adult I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around it so I knew they probably didn't really get it, and I considered that a blessing of sorts. I honestly don't remember what we were doing the first time he joined our family. I just remember having these 3 little heads all sitting in the back seat and my husband and I sitting in the front seat, literally on pins and needles. I had planned an activity although I can't remember what it was. I just remember us driving and shortly after we got underway it started. The three kids, complete strangers, begin chatting away like magpies. The longer they talked the more animated they became. From listening to them you would have never known that they were strangers. Through the years they all became very close and it always amazed me how they came together like peas in a pod in spite of being raised separately for so long. That's just kids for you. They have a way of adapting with ease. Having my children adapt helped me adapt. Watching them communicate as siblings always brought a smile to my face.... I was the pod, they were the peas, knit closely together cause that's just natures way.

A Splash of Crimson.... Only God Knows

An artist fond of pastels painstakingly selected her colors for the painting she would create… The softest of pinks, the palest of blues, with hues of lavender and green. With a gentle touch, a whimsical picture began to unfold. Under a sky filled with puffy white clouds stood a cottage with gingerbread trim. Children played on the lawn, carefree and happy on a perfect spring day. The painting was just as soft as she envisioned it would be. A few finishing touches and she would be done. Suddenly a loud rapping pierced the solitude of the moment jarring her from the dreamlike state. She opened the front door and found herself face to face with a faceless stranger. Without invitation the stranger strolled past her and walked over to the painting. With disbelief she watched as the faceless stranger tossed something on the painting. Crimson ran down the canvass distorting the soft lines of the landscape. Without a word the faceless stranger turned and walked out the door leaving her breathless and broken. She had spent a lifetime creating this painting. Each and every color was chosen with care. Just that quickly it had been changed. What was she to do? Could it possibly be salvaged? How could she possibly incorporate the harsh crimson with the soft pastels together in the same painting? It must be done or the painting would be trashed. With uncertainty she began to work the canvass. A brush stroke here, a smudge there and a new, yet lovely picture began to emerge. Splashes of crimson on the wings of a butterfly stood out against the blue sky. Red tulips edged the walkway up to the cottage. Splashes of crimson on a pastel canvass brought texture and depth to a painting that had been planned to perfection. Certainly crimson wasn’t the color of choice, but it did add something to the painting.  She stood back not really understanding why her picture had been changed, but she accepted the changes and even had to smile at the irony of contrast between what she had planned and what now was. Sometimes life without warning will add a splash of color to your painting and all you can do is incorporate the color so that something of beauty emerges from something of pain. Only God knows…..