I’ve been attending the annual St. Henry’s Christmas Bazaar for almost twenty-five years now. The first one I remember took place a few weeks after our car accident and before the birth of our first son., Robert. That was a special one. We were greeted with smiles and tears. So many expressions of thankfulness that we were ok.
This event takes place at St. Henry’s Catholic Church in Owasso, OK—the home church of my in-laws and the church where my husband grew up. We have many happy family memories associated with the Christmas bazaar, especially our kids with their Grandma and Papa.
If you arrived early enough there were homemade cinnamon rolls for breakfast. But if you missed those, no worries. Frito chili pie and tamales were on the lunch menu, as was pie. Any kind of pie you could want! It doesn’t stop there, oh no. We also had to visit the bake sale section before heading home.
The kids could expect to be spoiled by their Papa at the bazaar. He always bought too many desserts. Plus, there were toys, books, and Christmas ornaments. I still have a pair of green earrings he helped Robert sneak around and buy for me one year ago. The kids also witnessed Grandma making crafts or baking items for the event in the weeks prior, and we always enjoyed looking for her items on display.
Probably the only thing Papa bought more of than desserts were the raffle tickets! Sometimes the kids would get to help draw names out of the wire basket and call out the next winner. Such anticipation and excitement followed by a celebration for the lucky name called.
Looking back on the happy memories associated with our family through this church, it’s funny how nervous I was about meeting my sweet in-laws for the first time. My husband was raised Catholic and I was raised Baptist. Seemed like a big difference at the time. Not only that, I had been married and divorced, which would affect my membership in their church.
I was not excited about Gart sharing this information with his parents when we were dating. How would they respond? Would they understand? Of course, my worries were for nothing. They loved me like a daughter from the very beginning. And we’ve had many occasions over the years to attend services at both Catholic and Baptist churches altogether as a family.
Today I think about the special place in my heart for St. Henry’s Catholic Church and its annual Christmas bazaar. Tomorrow I will go once again, look at the crafts, possibly buy a Christmas gift, eat lunch with my mother-in-law, and of course, eat pie! My father-in-law, my kids’ Papa, will be missed as we reminisce over times past. But we will continue to make new memories and form new relationships.
Who would have thought so much joy could be found in a simple Christmas bazaar?
I hope I can get there in time for cinnamon rolls this year…
Tag: family
Stuck in the Mud
Have you ever felt stuck? You take a step, suddenly realizing it was the wrong step to take. I remember having that literal experience once as a kid. My cousins and I were playing kickball, a common activity when we were together. Someone kicked the ball into a ditch, and I went to get it. The minute my foot sank into the mud, I knew I was stuck.
For a brief moment, I felt a sense of panic. It seems a bit ridiculous looking back now. What could possibly have happened? Maybe I’d seen too many television portrayals of people sinking into quicksand. You know the ones. A bystander yelling at the would-be victim to be calm and still, yet panic sets in and they proceed to sink until their hand finally disappears.
All I needed to do was stand still and call for help. And of course, help came. With a group of cousins around, I certainly was not alone. One of them assisted with pulling my foot out of the mud. The only casualty that day was my tennis shoe.
Many steps taken in this life are much less literal, yet come with much more significant consequences. So what happens when a step is misguided or poorly chosen? Certain decisions in my teen and young adult years left me feeling trapped, afraid my life was messed up permanently. Regret and guilt crept in, causing me to feel like I was sinking further down in the mud.
Thankfully I eventually discovered ways to counter those fears. Simply choosing to be still, although difficult, was a start. If I could just wait instead of panic, maybe another bad decision would be avoided. Next, it was time to call for help. That help came in different forms. A prayer, a simple phone call to a friend or family member-often both.
“Casting the whole of your care (all your anxieties, all your worries, all your concerns, once and for all) on Him, for He cares for you affectionately and cares about you watchfully.” I Peter 5:7
“…but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” Proverbs 18:24
A friendly listening ear often guided me toward a fresh perspective. There was not always an easy or instant answer, and that was sometimes hard to accept. Yet in spite of unavoidable consequences, with some guidance and faith, I was able to take a step in a new direction, no longer feeling stuck in the mud.
Life is Letting Go
We’ve had some important family events in recent weeks. Celebrating our youngest son’s 18th birthday with extended family and friends, marching band senior night-our third and final ending a 10-year period of being band parents. Milestones for our family of five to be certain. And even though the focus was on the celebration, my mind often drifted to change.
The two days previous to senior night, I found myself fighting back tears. As Friday approached, I worried about not being able to get through the coming events without uncontrollable crying. Thankfully, I was wrong. But oh, was it exhausting.
I am one who believes in expressing your emotions. Crying in front of others is not uncommon. I also recognize that there are times when those emotions must be pushed to the back burner. This was one of those times. Truly it was a time to celebrate, and I’m happy to say that’s exactly what we did!
The following week it was time for senior pictures and finishing college applications. More changes coming…too soon. Positive changes to be certain, but my emotions rose to the surface once again. That’s when I realized, this process of letting go was starting over. Part of my life as a parent for which there is no handbook, no warning-until it hits me in the face.
As a parent, I’ve experienced this in both big and small ways while watching my children grow. Taking their first steps, climbing up that slide ladder independently, their first day of school. Driving off alone in their car for the first time, going on a first date, and moving off to college. Each time I have to let them go, tiny pieces of my heart go with them.
Today I must put one foot in front of the other, dry my tears, and face the day with hope. Hope because these three I get to call mine are already making a difference in this world. Hope because the people they are becoming causes my heart to overflow, as those missing pieces return.
In order for them to continue flying, I have to continue letting go. That’s how life works. I can either fight against it, holding on for dear life or embrace the truth-life is letting go.
Schemes to Switches
I’ve previously mentioned that my husband loves referring to me as a schemer. Once an idea enters my thoughts I work to make it a reality. This particular trait appeared way before meeting him. I’m certain my mom could testify. One example from my childhood stands out clearly above the rest.
I don’t remember exactly our age, definitely younger than ten. The “we” was me and my cousin Rebecca, a great schemer in her own right. Born only twenty days apart, we were always close growing up. Rebecca has five younger sisters. Imagine seven little girls when you added me to the mix!
~Me and Rebecca~
There was one specific instance when I’d been invited to spend a few days with my cousins. We all piled into their Volkswagen Bug and began the thirty-minute drive to their house. During the short trip, Rebecca and I immediately began plotting.
Our scheme? Secretly sneak out of their house and walk several miles down a dirt road to visit her Uncle Jack and his family. Why were we being sneaky? I have no idea! But we were all ready to go the next morning.
There was one small problem. Barbara, one of the younger sisters apparently overheard our conversation and insisted on tagging along. What if we said no? She would tattle on us, of course!
Off went our little trio, down the long driveway, and out onto the dirt road. We were not even past the house when we heard Aunt Mary’s voice, “Rebecca? Kelley? Barbara? Where are you, girls?” We attempted hiding in the ditch, but Barbara started to cry. Shushing her proved impossible and we were quickly discovered.
Our adventure was foiled, and talk about being in trouble. Aunt Mary took a switch to our legs while we ran around the yard like a bunch of chickens. Though the switch didn’t really hurt us, it did help teach us a valuable lesson. Seeing this now as a parent, I’m certain we caused Aunt Mary a great deal of panic. She was, after all, attempting to keep up with seven young girls.
~The six sisters and me all grown up~
Reminiscing over this little adventure has brought lots of laughter over the years. But the best part of the story is yet to come. To this day if we mention it around Aunt Mary, she still feels terrible about switching us! Forty plus years later! She has to be one of the most kind, patient, calm people I’ve ever known. Managing all of us girls while keeping her sanity had to be challenging.
~My mom and her sister, my Aunt Mary~
Did our scheming pay off in the end? Well, not exactly the way we had planned. We did learn an important life lesson about being safe. But even more important, we were reminded then and continue to be reminded now, how much we are loved.
I love you, Aunt Mary
It’s a Girl!
Remembering that day so clearly
No more waiting
Time for the answer
Boy or girl?
Hoping for a girl
Big brother and baby sister
Time for ultrasound
Heart jumping for joy
Leaving doctor’s office
Calling my Mom
Squealing over the phone
“It’s a girl!”
As We Go
This past Friday was a rainy, inside recess kind of day. My last class of the day is 2nd grade. So I made a last minute change of plans and decided to teach them a game, Instrument Bingo. Fairly certain they would at least be familiar with the concept of Bingo, I began to explain this particular version.
Bingo cards are made up of musical instrument pictures, each one also identified by written names. Many types of instruments, representing all parts of the world, are shown on the cards. Students listen to recordings of the instruments being played and a voice also tells them the name. It’s a win, win kinda game.
I wanted this to be a fun learning activity-reminding them I did not expect them to already know all these instruments, and we would be learning them as we played the game. One sweet girl raised her hand, “You mean, we will all learn together as we go.” Yes! That is exactly what we will be doing!
That one statement from an innocent 2nd grader holds much wisdom. As I wrote it down on my “positives” list, I began to think about all the ways it applies to life. Being a spouse, parent, and teacher are perfect examples. Often our focus is on the big event-a wedding, birth of a baby, college graduation, our first teaching job-culminating in our suddenly taking on those identities.
Yes, those events are important and grant us that particular role or position in name, but time and experience are required for actual transformation. And that’s what true learning is-transformation. I need to remember this when feeling frustrated or disappointed with myself concerning my life responsibilities.
My goal should be learning from my own mistakes as well as from others who have more experience. Followed by a willingness to share what I learn with those who may have just begun their journey down a similar path. Always making sure to remember-we are all just learning together as we go.
As I Go
I am not the same wife I was
On my wedding day
I am not the same mom I was
On my first child’s birth day
So many people, places, events
Influenced who I am today
So many words, prayers, tears
Helped to light my way
As I continue walking along
This path we know as life
Will my desires be persistent
To become a better mom and wife
Should I choose to recognize
I am not alone in my strife
Transformation through lessons learned
Will prove worthy of sacrifice
Parent/Child Circle
Being both daughter and mom of a daughter creates a constant cycle of emotions and challenges. As a daughter, I did not truly appreciate the actions of my mom until becoming a mom myself. As a mom, I continually struggle with whether or not my parenting decisions were best for my children. It’s an unending, mixed up, beautiful circle.
There were times I certainly drove my mom crazy and surely caused her many sleepless nights. Thankfully she did not give up on me during my young adult years despite some poor choices on my part. Somehow we both survived. Although my children may not have supplied the same grief, I have experienced the worry and sleepless nights. Part of the job, I suppose.
In a recent conversation, my mom expressed some regret over some of her parenting choices-wishing she had talked more openly about certain subjects. You know the ones-uncomfortable ones we tend to avoid. Almost as if she thought my mistakes were her fault. Naturally, I reassured her that she was a great mom and that I made my own choices.
Truthfully, there comes a time when each of us is responsible for our own actions. My young adult choices were mine-good or bad, and I had to deal with their consequences. The older I become the more I understand how even those mistakes helped form this person I see in the mirror. Yes, they brought guilt and sorrow, but also allowed me to encounter life-changing forgiveness and grace. And that affects how I relate to the people in my life.
At first, I didn’t understand why my mom felt the way she did. How could she possibly think my mistakes were her fault? Then I began to reflect on my own parenting. From that perspective, I began to understand. Our children are part of us. One of our greatest responsibilities. And in some ways, part of our reflection. We want to see the best parts of ourselves in those reflections.
As parents, we love, worry, pray, and provide-but still feel like we’re falling short. Did we encourage enough? Or too much? Was our opinion expressed too strongly? Or not strongly enough? Did we efficiently equip our children to make good decisions? On the one hand feeling responsible for our children’s mistakes, on the other acknowledging our parents are not responsible for ours. Certainly a contradiction of ideas.
Logical or not, this crazy cycle goes on and on. Is this cause for concern? Something we need to change? I would argue no. This is the parent/child circle. You can’t be a parent without first being a child. You can’t be a child without first having a parent. Sounds simple, but it is beautifully complicated. As a parent I would say it is worth the worry and sleepless nights. And maybe if I stop to remember what it was like to be a child, I won’t be quite so hard on myself as a parent.
Going Home
Growing up, giving directions to my house was always interesting. It went something like this…”Drive past the Natural Steps sign and Moreland’s Grocery Store, go around a sharp curve, over a hill, then you’ll see a straight stretch of road. Right at the end of the straight stretch, turn left onto Mahar Road.” Mahar is my mom’s maiden name, hence the name of the road.
My husband likes to tell people that I grew up in a commune, but that is not the case. The quarter of a mile road, lined with trees on both sides, dead ends into a wide-open valley. My grandparent’s house was in the center, surrounded by several homes belonging to my aunts, uncles, and my parents. Huge oaks, towering pines, and grassy fields provided plenty of room for kids to run and play.
That’s where I spent my childhood-riding bikes, digging in the dirt, playing kickball and basketball with my cousins. And since my mom had six sisters and two brothers, there were always cousins around. They say I made them listen to me practice piano and violin…well, maybe a few times. But most of the time, we were outside. Distinct memories include singing at the top of my lungs while riding bicycles, trying to fool my uncle with mud pies, and playing “King of the Mountain” on Grandma’s front porch.
Almost thirty-three years have passed since I lived on Mahar Road. Even while typing I think surely that can’t be correct! Oh, but it is…despite the years gone by and having a family of my own, I still refer to this special place as home. I’m thankful to have grown up there-carefree, no worries about safety, room to let our imaginations run wild.
Of course, things have changed since I was a child. My grandparents are no longer living, cousins are all grown and many, just like me, have moved away. That doesn’t matter. Simply driving the route that leads to home causes any anxiety to melt away. My brain slows down, my body relaxes, and while there I truly rest. Sometimes I even feel like a kid again.
Thinking about my childhood reminds me that home is so much more than a house. It’s the people, the places, the memories. And sometimes…you just need to go home.
Life’s Roles
Daughter first
Sister second
Years later wife
Mom times three
Cousin, niece, aunt
Friend and teacher between
Each role gives purpose
Brings responsibility
Delivers sorrow
Causes growth
Provides joy
Creates life
I look ahead
The future unseen
New roles yet to come
Hopeful to embrace each one
Through smiles, laughter, or tears
And continue down this path to becoming me
House to Home
Our family has lived in our current home for fifteen years. Kids were nine, seven, and three when we moved in. Prior to that move we had lived in four different houses in three different cities, and two different states. I remember feeling so relieved to be settled.
As someone who spent the first seventeen years of my life (until I left for college) in the same house, all of our moves were challenging. I worried about how the kids would handle each new place. Would they make friends easily? Would I? Of course, we all adjusted in our own way.
This house has truly become home. It’s where our kids grew up. So many memories. For example, my concern that Ryan would fall down the stairs. He was so little when we moved in, and the kids bedrooms were all upstairs. As it turned out, the concern should have been for me! I was the first one to bounce down the stairs on my bottom.
Although there was the time Robert tumbled down the stairs. Apparently Robert, Rachel, and Ryan were playing the game “follow your siblings directions while wearing a sleeping bag over your head.” I’m sure you’ve all played that one before! Some friendly advice; make sure the sibling giving directions knows their right from their left…
Many of the memories involve celebrations-and food. Saturday morning pancakes, Sunday night Chinese take-out, Dad’s burgers on the grill, my chocolate chip cookies, yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Birthday parties, holiday dinners with extended family, graduation parties-so many things to celebrate.
Well…things are about to change. We currently have a high school senior and a college senior, and an already moved out and employed teacher. We know from experience these next few months will fly by. And though our nest won’t be immediately empty, that is the direction we are rapidly heading.
Gart and I have talked many times about preparing for this next stage in life. He would even joke and tell the kids we were going to buy a tiny house or move to a loft apartment downtown. Neither of those is going to happen, but we are preparing to buy another house and sell this one.
Right now my thoughts are mostly in the details-time frame, moving boxes, etc. But they unexpectedly drift and I find my eyes welling with tears. This happened while driving away from the home we eventually decided to buy. It’s a beautiful home, warm and cozy. I am excited. So why was I crying?
Change is like that. Even when the change is positive, it still comes with growing pains. Right now my growing pains involve how my role as a parent is changing. Since the majority of my parenting years took place in this house, leaving it will be emotional.
Sometimes when I’m at home alone, our once busy house feels like an empty shell. I’m thankful for the flood of memories that fills the empty spaces. Just as our family established traditions and made memories here, I must trust we will do the same in our new house. And as old memories travel with us and mix together with the new, a transformation will take place-one that will turn house to home.
Piano Girl 