Purple, silver and green anniversary

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“We just got married and have no idea what that means!”

When you’re a 25-year-old bride

walking down the aisle

scared, excited, feeling as if it’s not your own feet that are walking toward a guy

who will soon be your husband

You don’t, you can’t fast forward to

25 years later

three children

OUR awesome olive shoots too long ago…

three SONS!

three awesome olive shoots –

a Soldier, a ministry minded guy

and an orange hair, freckle face ginger -WHAT???

And you don’t expect that

25 years later

you’d go to Whole Foods

Excited to buy organic purple kale

for a green smoothie

with your Hubs

on your anniversary

And no one could have told you that

while you were talking to the produce guy about brocco-sprouts

Your husband would make a funny face and interrupt your conversation

No, when you were a young bride, you wouldn’t have believed that a quarter century later

You’d go over to your husband

by the apples

Dramatic re-enactment of the box. I had already torn off the bow. I was completely flummoxed!

And see a box

A small, black box with a bow

And that your first thought would be “Hey, you’re going to buy the WRONG apples! I said GREEN apples!”

And your second thought would be “Hey, don’t mess with that little box in the apples. That’s not ours. Leave it alone!”

But then you see that man you love, beaming

It’s your box

At the Whole Foods

and yes, you did say GREEN apples…

but you’ve moved past the offense and you open the box

You see THIS

“Ok, that was a weird/awkard/wonderful sparkly surprise!”

The produce guy is as confused as you are

But everyone is smiling

The Hubs and the sweet man at the produce aisle. He was so happy for us when I told him what had just happened. And guess what? He had gone back to the back room and found fresh brocco-sprouts for us!

You place another ring on your finger

Kissing the man you love

An assortment of yummy things and a sparkly blue diamond ring – this was the best grocery trip EV!

AND you get some brocco-sprouts along with your green apples and organic purple kale

That walking on air feeling

You had when you were dressed in white

Happens again

Different place, more casual attire

But the same man is still there

And then just as you are getting ready to publish this post

The doorbell rings

Bells of Ireland, delphinium, rubrum lilies, roses, a breathtaking bouquet!

And this is delivered to your door

You think to yourself

September 5th is truly a momentous day

So you press the publish button because you have to tell everyone

How blessed – really, really blessed you feel today. ❤

Appreciating Nate

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Sandwiched between a Soldier and an orange hair, freckle face OS = pre-sushi joy

My Soldier came home for the weekend. To find him fast asleep in his bed Saturday morning felt like a bowl of slightly melted, premium vanilla ice cream with warm butterscotch and multi-colored sprinkles on top.

We ate sushi at our favorite place and stuffed our faces.

Oh my, Nate is a funny fellow.

And he encounters so many characters, there’s never a dull moment. I honestly think if the whole Army officer thing doesn’t pan out or the West Point degree with a major in comparative politics amounts to nothing, my oldest OS could hit the comedy scene with his own schtick. And his material would all be true, no exaggeration necessary. While at dinner, Nate demonstrated how his pastor, a WP grad himself, is a BIG fan of gestures. Basically every sentence is punctuated with a dramatic bodily motion. I thought a piece of rice was going to fly out of my nose!

We promised Nate we would eat here if he drove nine hours to come home = totally worth it!

My oldest OS’s stories about sunflower seeds are equal parts disgusting and delightful. I’ve been hearing sunflower seed stories for years now. It’s a smart Soldier’s alternative to chew or cigarettes.

These two people had no idea how the Lord was going to change and bless them. Three olive shoots and almost exactly 25 years later, we are still a work in progress but rejoice over what Jesus has done in our lives.

Before we ate dinner, Nate got our family’s attention and offered a toast. The Hubs and I will be married 25 years on Wednesday. The toast and acknowledgement of our pending celebration were just more signs that our OS is a man.

But you know what is really cool? He still lets me call him “Baby.” Not gf “Baby” but mom-speak “Baby.” He allows me (sometimes) to place my head on his broad back and just be near him. When I grab his biceps, which seem to get more muscular each time I see him, he flexes for added bravado. He is patient with my shenanigans too. In other words, he lets me be his mama. He’s not too cool, well-traveled, intellectual or strong to still grant his mother a moment to remember, savor and appreciate.

The car drove away this morning, too soon. A weepy mom stood on the driveway, her heart full of love and thanksgiving which btw, will probably be the next time we see him. Thanks Baby for letting me scoop up more memories. Until next time,

“The Unveiling” part two of birth, beads and a baby

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I’m not sure when I gave the Hubs his birthing necklace. My hunch is immediately. Who could blame me? Wouldn’t you? The authentic “African bone” pieces were carefully selected by my flea market friends in their humble country showroom. Corresponding beads tastefully matched the turquoise orbs in my own necklace. And the manly black beads of alternating sizes, well it was nearly Zulu warrior-esque. Mark must have felt a surge of testosterone when I handed him the silk bag. He deserved this gift and I couldn’t wait to see his response.

18 years later

Now 18 years later, the Hubs describes the moment as “awkward” and “conciliatory.” Btw, “conciliatory” is a word he most certainly cannot spell. But what was he to do? He draped it around his neck and hoped for the best.

“I believe this moment is equally ‘awkward’ and ‘conciliatory.'”

On August 30, 1994, I went into labor while at work. I had lunch with a client at the Chili’s on Glenwood Avenue and warned her that I was having contractions. As the lunch progressed, so did labor. I paused through the pain and eventually called the Hubs and told him to meet me at the doctor’s office. Shortly thereafter, my client called to tell him to pick me up from the restaurant. I wasn’t going to be able to drive.

We floored it to the OB/GYN where it was abundantly clear Aaron would soon join the world.

Before leaving work, however the Hubs called my mom and told her to get to the hospital urgently. My mom was working at a department store in the jewelry department. Note the irony. Though she had many baubles to choose from, none would suffice. My mom told the Hubs she had to first go home. She didn’t have her necklace.

And you know what she did? That blessed woman booked it all the way to her house, placed that treasure upon her neck with little time to spare and walked into the hospital room per her daughter’s orders.

In a wistful moment, during work, sometimes the Hubs will just wear his birthing necklace and remember those blissful times :&

So what happened to Mark’s birthing necklace? Where was mine??? After all that travail and travel, my plans were thwarted and Mark’s prayers were answered. Both birthing necklaces were at home on that hot summer afternoon. My mother was the only one who wore the necklace! Without a second thought, my middle OS popped out with great gusto. He’s been tearing it up ever since.

“I’ve been tearing it up ever since!”

We recently had a dinner party with our pastors and church friends. We played Think-ets and I drew the “bead” trinket. Here’s the link to Think-ets and their new low price! I told them all the story and rushed upstairs to show them the actual necklaces lest they think I was exaggerating for the sake of a good story. You should have heard them all erupt into laughter mixed with pity mixed with relief that they had never faced such a jewelry dilemma.

One day Aaron will get our necklaces. I’d love to think of something special to do with them. If you have an idea, please share. They are emblems of love, devotion, marriage, family and overall weirdness. Thanks for being born Aaron, you have adorned us all with blessings. I love you and miss you. mama ❤

Someone “forgot” his necklace for the picture

Birth, beads and a baby, part one

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“Ok, so I let you take pictures of me with your homemade dolls. Isn’t that enough, Woman?”

There are certain family stories you just don’t share. There are other stories which become legendary. This one is a toss-up but for posterity sake, I must pass it along.

“Mom, are you really going to do this to my brother on his b-day???”

It’s my middle OS’s 18th birthday today I’m going to embarrass him/myself and anyone else I can by telling this story. I love Aaron desperately. It’s his first birthday away from home at Moody Bible Institute. BLECH! Truly, Aaron brings immeasurable joy to my life and since his conception, this guy has been making me weirder by the day. Read on for the deets.

While pregnant with my middle OS, I began to love beads. And I mean LOVE. On many Saturday mornings, you’d find me at the flea market pining over ways to make unique jewelry. Actually I never made it myself but some mother/son flea marketeers pieced together my baubles in their simple tented outdoor booth. It was a win-win situation though we were a strange trio to be sure. They lived together in a cramped trailer home in rural North Carolina and didn’t get much exercise, I was a then career-minded, super busy, suburban mama raising a family in a middle class neighborhood near Raleigh.

I believe these three beads represented each trimester…

As my due date approached, I was insistent that beads become a central theme in the delivery, second only to my pending OS. Beads were symbolic of fertility and womanhood. According to my birth plan, everyone with the exception of medical personnel had to wear beads if they wanted to see Aaron enter the world.

The Hubs didn’t/doesn’t have an impressive jewelry stash. If you add marbles, you might say that his bead collection was scant at best. But being the ever dutiful wife, I wanted to resolve his burdensome problem.

I’m not sure what these represented but they represented something!

One afternoon I set off to personally visit the mother/son duo. They had told me they had an even vaster selection of beads at their home and many more masculine beads to choose from. It was now close to my delivery and I was determined. Aaron wasn’t going anywhere until his daddy had a bead necklace to wear for the big day. The miles I logged on that mini-van were astounding. At times I thought about giving up but how could I do that to my incredible husband and precious Aaron still stuck in the womb? I finally arrived and spotted the ramshackle trailer off a dusty, unpaved road. It had taken much longer to get here but Mom and Son were waiting for me.

We all waddled into the showroom. It was similar to a greenhouse only filled with a million or so beads. I noted the selection. Daunting. How could I choose? It had to be perfect and I wanted something to match the overall color scheme and mood of my necklace.  After great thought and with my bead friends’ approval, I found the perfect pieces. For added manliness, I even included a few African bone beads. The Hubs was going to love it. They knotted and strung them all together and even gave me a satin gift bag. We all smiled and waved as I backed up my mini-van leaving a trail of dust in the midst. Mission accomplished…

“Um, thanks Mom?”

Here’s the link to Olive Shoot Institute and the aforementioned dolls. Stay tuned for part two, we’ll call it “the unveiling…”

Diving into transition

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Old school pic of my Moody Bible boy

With only one OS now at home, as long as I don’t think too much about it, I’m ok. Those moments when I go “there,” I start to panic. Having Aaron far away in Chicago can overwhelm me. It’s like when I was jumping into the deep end of the pool last summer. If I ran quickly off the diving board and just let gravity do the rest,  I was ok. But the minute I paused, my toes gripped the edge of the board. I contemplated the depth of the water, the possibility of death, the certainty that I looked completely stupid and that’s when I became frozen with fear.

In a similar position, I must put one foot in front of the other and dive into this new season of life. I must sell soap nuts, write, sew, serve Jesus and others. Not in a bathing suit though!

Today was the first Sunday at church without Aaron sitting beside me. A few people sweetly asked me how I was doing and I truly appreciated their kindness. I marveled at my ability to not burst into tears which is not something I usually do.

And I found a way to have all my OS by my side. Here was my strategy.

That orange hair, freckle face kid in the black shirt blessed me today.

1. I sat next to Ike and we didn’t fuss at each other as we are sometimes apt to do. Oh how I loved that my orange hair, freckle face OS let me hold his hand frequently and spontaneously. He also enjoys pretending to crack an egg on my head and knee and that was welcome affection even if it’s weird. And when Ike was needing a break from me, the Hubs let me curl up beside him.

One of my favorite pieces of jewelry for obvious reasons!

2. I wore my West Point necklace which was specially made by another WP mom. It’s custom designed and is so dear to me. One of my charms has a favorite picture of my boy when he was a little toe-headed guy chest puffed up holding a plastic knife in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. I instantly felt close to Nate who’s in officer training at Fort Benning, Georgia. Click here for info about this wonderful jewelry! I’m going to order more charms so I have all my OS nearby!

3. When it was time to sing, the rest of the congregation made a joyful noise reading the worship songs on the screen. I, however, took out the hymnal my OS compiled and sang using it. I choked back a few tears and clutched the hymnal to my heart. Aaron’s spirit felt nearby.

“How blessed are the feet of those who bring good news.” Romans 10:15 My boy, my hymnal ❤

With one Sunday down and facing my first week without Aaron, I press on and am thankful for any effective coping techniques I can find! If you have any, please share! I know I’m not alone!

Twice in a summer

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We argue. We fight. We disappoint each other and intentionally do things to annoy. These are some of the rather unsavory characteristics of my family.

On occasion our clothes are left on the ground, someone “forgets” to empty the dishwasher, the carpet needs vacuuming and the kitchen floor hasn’t seen a broom in a few days.

We battle big things too in this house…depression, anxiety, temptation and Ambien, to name a few.

But then there are these halcyon moments –

And it’s like one of us is a polished diamond

And we get it right

I didn’t grow up going to church. Raising a Christian family means so much to me. Sitting next to one of my guys makes it even sweeter.

Maybe not for the whole day, for that might be too strenuous

But for a snapshot of time, we experience a flash of heaven

Which is what happened Sunday morning…

Aaron helping lead worship. He did a great job and found it to be a very emotional experience.

It was Aaron’s last Sunday at church before leaving to attend college in Chicago. This summer Aaron has acted as one of our church’s interns. For a small church of about 50 people, I must say, they put my OS to work like a boss. In addition to holding a paid, part-time job as a pool attendant, Aaron had many church projects to accomplish. Whereas many nearly 18-year-old young people are majorly chilling the summer before going off to school, Aaron has been learning Greek, reading church leadership books and writing reports about them. Aaron worked tirelessly compiling a hymnal for our church filled with rich, beautiful hymns that are still reverent and true. Each time my OS showed me progress on this hymnal, he beamed with excitement and joy. Aaron and the two other summer interns led an entire church service and my middle OS was so moved by the experience, he ended up in tears before our small congregation recently one Sunday morning. Incidentally as a result, most of the congregation was equally emotional especially the mama with pink highlights in her hair = me!

The three pastors poured into our boy’s life and gave him a glimpse into how to truly minister and shepherd a flock of people. They showed Aaron the inner workings of a healthy church body, how to receive feedback before and after the sermon (something I’ve never heard of pastors doing before attending this church). Through their personal investment in my OS’s life, Aaron is developing into a vibrant and active young leader.

And on Sunday, our pastors blessed him in a grand way before sending him off to the Windy City. Although the Hubs and I knew about this previously, it came as a surprise to Aaron when he was asked to come up to the front of the church. Jerry, one of our pastors, explained to the crowd that Aaron was leaving to attend Moody Bible Institute and this would be his last Sunday with us. He then asked the men of the church to come forward and to pray over my boy. It wasn’t creepy and it didn’t offend my former feminist ways in case the mere thought of this bristles you.

Twice in a summer I have witnessed a moment like this.

My sandy-haired boy bowed his head and I realized at that moment, wow, this is the second child in a summer that I have seen kneeling before Jesus and his followers. (Click here to read about the first time with Nathan). We weren’t at West Point; we were in the suburbs of North Carolina but another one of my olive shoots was submitting his life to the Lord and receiving from His people, words of blessing and protection. Honestly, I think the statistics for something like this happening twice in a summer are quite small. And when I consider my wretchedness, I think it is nothing short of miraculous that something this beautiful could happen to me as a mother. And furthermore, this is the second time the orange hair, freckle face OS has laid hands on a brother and helped usher him into a new season of life. Not your everyday, run of the mill brother stuff but something lofty, holy and lovely.

The prayer didn’t last too long, no one spoke in tongues, snakes were not handled. 😉

Seeing godly men praying for my olive shoot, thank you Jesus for this glorious moment. That’s my orange hair, freckle face guy in the black shirt, his hands on his bro.

As the prayer finished and the men made their way back to their seats, Pastor Rob asked Aaron to stay up front for a moment.

And that’s when they gave Aaron another gift as if the gift of prayer, love, protection, shepherding, accountability and manly, godly leadership weren’t enough.

Sitting next to my boy one last time before college, Aaron getting his hymnal, the actual hymnal

He sweetly handed my boy the very first copy of our church’s new hymnal. The project Aaron had devoted hours on was finished and my OS got first dibs. Aaron hugged our pastors fiercely and shined like a diamond holding that hymnal in his hand. He sat down next to me and while he began flipping through the pages, I patted his knee, tears in my eyes. As sad as I think Aaron might feel about leaving his family, I think he feels even sadder leaving his church. He will be a part of our fellowship even if he’s thousands of miles away.

Here’s one of Aaron’s favorite songs, Jesus, Savior Pilot Me which can be found on page 82 in our hymnal. Surely I will think of the precious child who sat and snuggled next to me even as a teenager each Sunday morning. As a benefit of birthing this fine olive shoot, I too, was handed a copy of the hymnal which Aaron will be signing for me. I cherish it already. (Btw, yes, I’m crying while writing this.)

This is a cool song. Beautiful, timeless words. ❤

So today, we’ll see how it goes. One of us might be grouchy. The Hubs and I might bicker, the guys might not initiate folding the mounds of laundry. We are alas a very human bunch. Still, I will praise the Lord. I will exalt His name. I will rejoice in the blessings I am given, those moments when we transcend our selfishness, stubbornness and foolishness and I see extraordinary beauty in the land of the living. May it be so with you and those you love as well. ❤

Ambien – setback, stepback, not giving up

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Wednesday around 3am, I felt like a puny junior high girl in PE class…

Good times posing in the Kmart photo booth

Circa 1974ish

My opponent this time wasn’t the rope that was hooked to the gym ceiling that I never could climb at Jefferson Junior HIgh

And it wasn’t the chin-up bar from which I couldn’t pull myself to save my life or my dignity

Wednesday morning, I wasn’t the last one picked for the volleyball match or the girl who lost the softball game

in my red PE  shorts, red and white thin-striped polyester PE shirt with red trim, a lithe and flat female frame devoid of all muscle tone either

No, in the wee hours of Wednesday, I was in bed, in my pajamas, a grown woman!

but I just as felt defeated that night (or should I say morning) sleep mask, pillows, fan going full blast

Tired

because I took the stupid Ambien

it was 3am and I told the Lord I was going to do it

There have been times when I have told Jesus I was going to do something and I knew He wasn’t going to like it

I bet you have too

but I was so tired

and having been up with my orange hair, freckle face OS for yet another night

feeling helpless about how to care for him and desperate for some rest

I swallowed that tiny pill and fell asleep with my sick boy nearby

I continue to trust in the Lord

Middle school Cindy

Blocking out the Enemy’s voices that remind me of my failings

My Holy One is teaching me things

I may falter and get distracted

Day and night

Ambien and life

But there is grace

My Heavenly Father presides over me

And through Him, I can do all things

Even sleep

The Lord loved that little wimpy middle school Cindy way back then and is compassionate towards me now. I’m on his team, He picked me many years ago and doesn’t laugh at my shortcomings but gives me the courage to press on

And so I will try again and claim this promise

Isaiah 40:31 (KJV)

But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

Thanks for listening….I welcome your thoughts and prayers

Cycling is like life – another woman’s story

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My inbox held a special treat. A friend from a former church had written me with something to share. Honestly many times a feeling of nervousness comes over me just before I read an email or a message. Am I in trouble? Did I tick someone off? Are they going to tell me something really sad or disappointing? That’s honestly what I wonder but whew, that wasn’t the case with Debbie’s message.

She told me that after returning home from a recent solo, very warm bike ride, many thoughts flooded her mind. Although not typically one who uses writing as a creative outlet, she felt compelled to write about an epiphany of sorts she had experienced on this ride.

As I read it, I knew I wanted to share it with you and so with Debbie’s permission, here are her words. As you read these, I encourage you to think of a daily activity or passion that you have…how does God speak to you through it?

This bike has taken Debbie on quite a journey

cycling is like life:

Super cool pic of Debbie and her hubs out hiking, one of her favorite pics following a really long hard hike in TN/VA

some rides I anticipate, look forward too, am excited for,
others I dread, look at as a chore, see as mundane,
some rides I encounter difficult climbs or easy descents, others rolling hills,
some rides I encounter beauty beyond compare, others not so beautiful,
some rides I encounter bee stings and accidental ingestion of bugs,
others I have witnessed awe-inspiring butterflies, birds and animals,

some rides I get a flat tire, many I don’t,
some rides I have been cursed at, spit on (yep), given the finger when I was doing everything right,
others I have been shown immeasurable grace when it was me who made the mistake,

I mean seriously, how could anyone spit at this lovely woman while she’s biking?

some rides I have been disliked just because I am a cyclist on the road,
others, maybe, I have inspired another,
some rides are extremely hot, cold, or surprised by storms,
others beautiful, sunny and calm,

some rides I have met wonderful, ‘want to be around’ folks, others not,
some rides I have gossiped unfairly, others I have been gossiped about,
some rides I put my best effort forward, some I have not,

Here is a huge turtle Debbie and her cycling buddy stumbled pon this summer!

some rides I have encountered dogs that want to attack, others that don’t,
some rides have unknown potholes, rocks and gravel, others smooth and beautiful,

some rides I am inexplicably weak, others I am inexplicably strong,
some days I have great ride, others not so great,
but no matter how the ride was,in the end,
I am so glad I have gone,
I am joyful to accomplish the ride
I am thankful to be healthy enough
thankful for my experience,
thankful for the journey.

Like my bike rides,
some days are smooth with perfect temperature,
sunny skies, dog free,
full of stranger kindness and feelings of strength,
other days are wrought with potholes, heat, bugs, winds, meanness and weakness.

Pic of new freeway intersection – this stretch of road actually promoted Debbie’s writing. Old US 1 just reopened after putting the bridge for 540, an ominous intersection for cyclists “out in the country side” in the heart of North Carolina

In spite of my anticipation and preparation, each ride has a life of its own.
I choose to embrace the journey of each ride, each day, for I know it will make me stronger and I will be glad for it, but I can only do it if I rely on the One Who is bigger than me.

cycling is like life

The more I read Debbie’s words, the more I relate to them. The more I want to take my bike to the repair shop and get on it! Thank you Debbie for inspiring me and trusting me enough to share it. I’d love to hear from you also. If  you have a story to tell, let me know, maybe I can help you speak your words to others.

A few other things about her: Debbie Douglass is married 25 yrs to a wonderful man, Jay  and mom of two sweet college aged kids. She’s also been a cyclist for 30 years. I’m not a biker but Debbie and I have a few things in common, we both are a lover of pretty tables and we’ve both been Christ-followers for 16 years (and oh SO thankful!!)

It’s truly a privilege to share her lovely message.

And the winner is…!

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Today the orange hair, freckle face OS is home sick from school. He’s been battling a nasty virus for about five days now and having a rough time.

In between naps, coughing and headaches, I had Ike help me select the winner of my Think-Ets give-away. As I was preparing all of the names for the drawing, I thought how much I would like each of the people to win. Thanks for participating, I plan on doing more of these things again.

So here are the incredibly exciting results…the elderly and those with heart ailments, should please sit down before viewing…

KIM HANSEN IS THE BIG WINNER! SHE’S A USNA wife but still a super person!
Think-Ets party games edition, oh yeah!

It’s pretty cool that Kim won because her husband is a Navy grad. I believe her winning shows how magnanimous Army folks can truly be and the occasional harmony experienced between military branches. We could have picked another name but we didn’t and that says a lot about Ike and me, right?

This is a seriously eclectic collection of doodads. I want to hear how people use these at my next party! Think of the possibilities and all the stories even in your own life! Fun, fun, fun!

My own Think-Ets Party Games Edition arrived in the mail today I’m bringing it to Chicago for yet another graduation party we’ve got planned in the near future!  I’m already intrigued by the cool contents and I hope Kim Hansen and her family have many hours of fun playing with these!

I'm packing this to play with the younger members of my extended family. Please Lord, let me beat them all. Ayyymen

The creative folks also sent me a copy of Story Speller which I will also be packing to play with my younger cousins, nieces and nephew in the area hopefully while eating some Italian beef sandwiches with extra juice and sweet peppers!

I’m packing this to play with the younger members of my extended family. Please Lord, let me beat them all and help all my opponents not be jealous of all of my brains. Ayyymen

Congratulations Kim!

The party guest I invited

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Some of the decorations outside

Over 100 people came to my middle OS’s college send-off party.

It was a beautiful celebration and I just revelled in God’s goodness as I looked at the crowd.

I recall my high school graduation party and it was nothing like this one.

Mine had a keg of beer, Michael Jackson music and I remember my tube top falling down unexpectedly. Someone had yanked on it and whoops, there it fell right by the kitchen door leading out to the backyard.

I nearly died of embarrassment but shrugged it off because bursting into tears is just plain gauche for a burgeoning French major.

Possibly one of the sweetest sights at Aaron’s party is this one. People pausing to pray for my son. Such a tender moment, thank you precious family and friends.

Aaron’s bash was nothing of the sort…No booze, (none necessary) folk music, Christian fellowship and everyone remained fully clothed to my knowledge. 😉

Among the treasured guests were our current church family, close personal friends, extended family, pastors, friends from our old churches, some of Aaron’s former teachers and classmates that were in choir and drama together.

Our pastor spoke a beautiful prayer just before dinner which was a gift in itself.

We ate Chicago style hot dogs from Sonic, Chicago style pizza from Rosati’s and filled in with healthy food like cranberry quinoa salad, lentils and jasmine rice, marinated mozzarella, watermelon juleps and other lovely treats.

All the hard work paid off seeing the faces of people who obviously loved my olive shoot and felt cared for by him as well. Afterward, I told Aaron it was like a wedding but no wife and no sex. He wasn’t sure how to respond but appreciated the sentiment and just chalked it up to another one of Mom’s awkward sayings of which he has quite a collection.

Oh yes, knit Chicago style hot dogs and knit Chicago style pizza slices!

But in the back of my mind throughout the preparations and during the actual party, when I allowed myself to think,

I remembered that a year ago on this same day marked my grandma’s last full day on earth.

That is a very hard thing to process when one is getting ready for a party, I assure you. Myriad emotions wafted in and out.

I loved her so much, she was so dear to me.

She profoundly loved my babies.

How had I even survived this year without her?

Step right up and get your picture taken with Aaron in front of the Sears Tower!

It was a Chicago theme celebration since our ministry-minded OS is going to Moody Bible Institute in the heart of the Windy City. As many of you who have been reading my blog have noticed, I built a Sears Tower (I refuse to call it Willis Tower) in my family room.

Each guest got a picture with Aaron in front of our own homemade indoor skyscraper and I chuckled to see small lines of families getting ready for their turn in front of the impressive structure.

And in my own way, unbeknownst to most people, I secretly invited my grandma to the party.

She had to be a part of the night and oh how Grandma loved to party. The poor woman couldn’t cook worth a darn but she was an enthusiastic and memorable party guest. Young and old alike loved it when Grace was coming over. She had a way of getting a party started as many will attest.

My orange hair freckle face OS and his great grandma. She made everyone smile.

And that’s what I did.

I took her to the party.

It was hard to do but I wore her Chicago Cubs shirt to my OS’s celebration.

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t especially flattering or that it slightly clashed with my skirt, I wanted my grandma there with me.

I also wore her high school necklace which rarely leaves me. And I ate some hot dogs. Grandma ate like a bird but loved hot dogs.

Grandma joined the celebration last night. She would have had a blast even if she had some Alzheimer’s, rarely wore her hearing aids and needed a cane. Heaven is the only thing that stopped her from making an appearance and if my grandma is with Jesus, I completely understand her not wanting to leave the ultimate celebration.

All of us, Nate is even in the picture. And I’m wearing my grandma’s Chicago Cubs t-shirt

As the night drew to a close and August 5th soon approached, more tears fell from my tired eyes.

The one year anniversary of my grandma’s passing had now arrived.

I saw my family’s facebook statuses change and their profile pictures show photos of them with Grandma.

I was not alone in missing her.

And those tears mingled with the tears of joy I experienced toward my treasured OS. I can scarcely take it all in today but all is well.

I miss her.

I love her.

I will miss my boy.

How many people can say they have done the YMCA at their grandma’s 80th birthday party? And how many can say that later on in the night, they danced a conga line through their aunt’s house with that same grandma? I did both and will treasure those times forever!

I love him.

I praise the Lord for all the tears, all the people, all the kindness, all the sadness, all the memories, all the love, truly I am blessed on this most notable day.

These two people were crazy about each other.

PS. In honor of my grandma who loved to party, remember to enter my give-away for a fun party gift! I’ll draw a winner tomorrow! Leave a comment on this page if you want to be entered in.