Sleepover

Damien's band had a show Saturday night and so Jon and Chrissy could go, Lana came for a sleepover. Years ago I would have loved to sit in a smoky bar and watch my son all fired up on the drums. We have gone to see him only once, I'm ashamed to say. He's fantastic! Naturally talented with no drum lessons ever. But the girls can't go to bars or stay up late, and the last time we went I got a severe asthma attack from the smoke. So I do my part by babysitting so Jon can go and see his brother play.

We love when Lana is here. She and Liana go off to their fantasy world of play. Arielle mothers Lana, making sure her teeth are brushed and pjs are on, and Grandma gives Lana strawberry ice cream and makes her pancakes and lets her know how special she is to us.

This time all three girls wanted to sleep in the living room. So we made a big bed on the floor. I asked if they would like me to read a book before bedtime, but Lana and Liana were so into their play they didn't want to stop for a boring old story. They had taken last year's Easter baskets and turned them into homes for tiny stuffed animals. The baskets were complete with beds, pillows, blankets, food and toys for their pets.

I love to see this kind of creative play. Too bad Liana can't market the idea. It's like the old Polly Pockets on a larger scale. The two of them finally fell asleep, but the minute their eyes were open in the morning, they had their baskets out playing again.

I hope these three girls grow up close and become great friends when they are women. Lana is not their cousin (a niece) but they are like cousins. I never had cousins nearby when I was a child because my parents had no brothers or sisters, but I think it would have been a great fun!

In the moment

Time flies. Because that's such an overused cliche, it shows that many people have this experience. Of course time moves the same for everyone. But many of us feel we are rushing through life, especially people my age. When I was in high school and it was January, I sure didn't feel like time was flying. Maybe other people equally imprisoned by circumstances don't think it to be true either. But this has been bothering me for awhile. I look at my little girls growing up so quickly. It's frightening to think summer is over already, and this year is on it's way out!

When you're young you know you have a limited number of days on this earth, but there are just so many of them (you think) that you don't need to analyze this reality, and it's okay to waste some of these days. But I often think now about the finite number of years I have left and in the words of a song, "I don't want to miss a thing." I don't want to throw even one day away. So how do we put the brakes on a life careening ahead to its final destination?

I need to be in the moment. Not thinking about what is happening next week or that night or even the next hour. I tell myself to slow down! I practiced this on Friday. I am a task-doer. I have things to do and all day long I do them. Always thinking about the next task and how to efficiently complete it. I miss so much that way. My kids will remember me as busy, busy, busy, always doing. So last Friday, this is what we tried instead:

I sat next to Arielle at the computer while she did math and instead of looking ahead to see how many more problems she had left so we could get on to the next task, I enjoyed watching her work. What a gift to have my daughter beside me, helping her grasp the concepts and work the problems. I took the moment, pondered it, held on to it.

We walked to the mailbox and I noticed the the cool breeze that has come with September and what a perfectly heavenly day it was, sunny, with the late summer chorus of cicadas. On the back porch I found a perfectly whole, dead cricket, a female with an ovipositor, and I brought it inside to show Liana since she is studying insects and had just learned about the ovipositor!

Later, Marissa came over and I had laundry to fold and dishes to wash, but I just sat at the table with her and the girls and talked. I made her some gazpacho to try but mostly we did nothing but enjoy the evening. (I feel like I'm becoming my mother. She loves to sit and talk and, come to think of it, she used to be so busy too. But she has learned to slow down.)

Liana set up a Polly Pocket town and she wanted to show me who lived where and what each little house was for. These toys are very old. Marissa had given Liana her childhood collection. I didn't look for a way out of the doll talk but engaged in it. Liana wondered why there were no black haired dolls and I couldn't adequately answer that. (Toy companies weren't concerned about political correctness back then.)

At night I got both girls to bed, an accomplishment no matter how old your kids are, and then I noticed there was a full moon with a very bright star next to it. I went on-line to see what that "star" was. It was Jupiter! So I got the girls back out of bed so we could look outside at God's wonders.

One day of being in the moment. Not rushing, just holding and examining the treasures of life. The past is full of regret, best left alone. The future is uncertain for us all. But we have right now and this was a perfect day. I need something to remind me to stop when I'm tempted to DO rather than just to BE.

Bike hike

Beautiful weather brought us out to the bike trails again! We're adventurers so we decided to go a new route along a different river. Arielle and I led the way with Fred following (slowly) behind Liana. I wish I hadn't forgotten my camera. The rains over the weekend made the river rise and it rushes by the wildflowers along the banks. Arielle and I get so far ahead we can't see Fred and Liana and we have to stop and wait for them. After a long wait at one point we find out they both had fallen! I'm glad I didn't see it. Liana is still a little shakey on her bike and it makes me nervous.

On this trip we had to ride a short distance on a real road--not good. There are real cars on this road. Then we traveled along a narrow path with several rude groups of "real" cyclists. These are the ones with racing bikes wearing silky biking outfits and fancy helmets who zip by so closely you are practically shoved aside or who approach you with three or four riders abreast on the path. So again, you are shoved aside.

So our little family is just cycling along at a slow speed trying to enjoy the scenery, and then the scenery becomes scary! On our left is a tall slice of mountain and on our right, where we are traveling, is a steep drop-off down a rocky cliff with the river flowing many feet below. Arielle and I ride along, with me warning her to stay away from the slope, which is difficult to do with the cyclists mentioned above on the trail with us.

My two girls are the Squabble Queens. You would think they can't stand to be near each other at times, always fussing and fuming. Liana is famous for her tears of anguish and Arielle is noted for the mean faces she gives Liana. Arielle is, in general, usually annoyed with her little sister, and Liana is tormented by the injustice dealt her having a bossy older sister. But today during our biking trip, I notice Arielle's concern for Liana. Time and again she looks backwards to see if she can see Liana coming. If she can, Arielle says, "Mom, she is too close to the edge." I assure her Daddy is watching Liana. Again she says, "Liana's bike is wobbling back and forth. This isn't safe for her." I am thinking the same thing. Surely Fred will realize this is true. Arielle and I pull over and wait.

Fred and Liana approach us and I express my concerns. Fred would usually say I worry too much, but this time he agrees. This is not the bike path for an inexperienced rider. If Liana slipped, she and her bike would be falling headlong into the river. To my great relief, we go back the way we came, this time the mountain at our side.

I am proud of Arielle and her mothering instincts. She loves her sister after all.

Fabulous Gazpacho!

Our summer garden is dying down and we are harvesting the last of the vegetables. Right now we have a lot of tomatoes and cucumbers so I decided to try Spanish gazpacho. I've never eaten it, even when I lived in Spain. This soup is an explosion of flavor! I found a simple recipe:

3 large fresh tomatoes, peeled and chopped

1/2 large cucumber, seeded and chopped

1/2 red pepper, chopped

1/2 red onion, chopped

1 clove garlic, chopped

3 T. rice vinegar (or wine vinegar)

1 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. pepper

2 T. olive oil

Place all ingredients in blender or food processor. Process, but don't puree. Eat cold. So good and so good for you! What a great dish on a hot and humid summer night.

Friends, I have not shared our tomatoes with you like I would have liked. They just didn't look very nice. They tasted good but were full of holes and squirrel bites. I would have been ashamed to give them to anyone.

Grand finale

By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea...

You and I, you and I, oh, how happy we'll be!

Summer is officially over in our house with the start of school today. But we ended it with a bang! Fred suddenly decided we should all go to the shore for one night. We'd thought we wouldn't be able to take our shore trip at all this year with Fred being in school, but he surprised us. Amazingly, we even found a vacancy, not at our usual spot at such late notice, but one not far down the street.

As we crossed the bridge over the bay to our island getaway, the girls screamed with excitement. They rolled down the windows to sniff the sea air. We stopped for lunch where we always go, and the girls were even more thrilled. They like to do everything just the same as we have done every year since they were babies. They don't want to vary the routine one bit. I picture them as women with their own children stopping at the same restaurant on their way to the beach. We drove to find our motel and Fred checked us in and then came out with another surprise. He booked two night instead of one!

By coincidence, good friends of ours were heading to the shore at the very same time for a day trip. We played together with them in the sun and sand. The day was hot and humid, unlike our usual trip in September, so we spent more time in the water, which was warm as a bath. The girls found all kinds of sea creatures and dug big holes. Arielle, older every year, ventures further and further into the surf. Not being a swimmer, the ocean is scary to me. But Fred was with her, so I shouldn't have been nervous. Liana still stays with me. We hold hands and jump the smaller waves. But they are powerful this day, nearly knocking us down.

We ate a delicious seafood dinner with our friends before they headed off late that evening. Sandy, sticky girls had showers and were quickly asleep. We headed out early to the beach again the next day. The Storm Tracker truck from our local news station was the first sign that something had changed. The sunlight still glittered brightly across the ocean, but the water was cold and the waves pounded in. The ocean was churning, ominous, and the wind was sharp. Liana didn't want to go in the water at all. Hurricane Bill was out in the Atlantic, coming closer.

Fred and Arielle let the waves beat them up again. Lifeguards were watching closely, and I was too. I couldn't relax with a book like usual. All that talk about rip currents ran through my mind. Later, all four of us took a peaceful walk at the water's edge far down the coastline. Then my heart settled like it always does at the shore. Amidst the roar of the waves drowning out every noise except for the laugh of the gulls, it seemed we were alone with God. The ocean beckons to me, despite my fear of it. I love being here with my family. I asked the girls, "Where would you rather be?" They said, "Nowhere!" Then they said, "Grandma's?"

Oh, the great mountains where my mother lives calls to us too. In both these places, God seems closer. Maybe it's the big-ness, the grandeur and the power of that huge ocean and those magnificent mountains. The details of daily life become trivial. We contemplate our small-ness in the universe and stand in awe of creation.

"Here is the sea, great and wide, which teems with creatures innumerable, living things both small and great...may the glory of the Lord endure forever; may the Lord rejoice in his works, who looks on the earth and it trembles, who touches the mountains and they smoke! I will sing to the Lord as long as I live, I will sing praises to my God while I have being." (Psalm 104)

We woke Saturday morning to rain and an even louder crashing of the waves. The only people in the water were the surfers. As we gazed across the sand to say good-bye to the ocean, we were treated to a giant rainbow, one leg in the sea, and the other crossing the island to the west, out of sight. Time to go back home. Summer is over.

A day in the park

This has to be one of the most fun city parks of all! This picture shows only one small part of it. It is full of towering wooden structures the kids can climb up and down in, along with rope ladders, hideaways, and suspended bridges. The play area is fenced with only one way in and out, so a parent can easily know where her children are. A couple of years ago the girls enjoyed playing here in the biggest sand pit I've ever seen. Surrounding the playground are beautiful shade trees with picnic tables where we had lunch. We spent the whole day here yesterday, and even with kids ages 9 to 14, they didn't tire of it and I only got them to leave without complaint by promising them ice cream.

Kelsey and Seth will go back to Minnesota in a week. We wanted at least one more day with them to remind them they have family back home who love them and will miss them. We're building memories.

Storm

Our beloved maples

We've had a lot of rain and fierce storms this year. And we have lots of tall, ancient trees in our yard, a couple of them battling an ant infestation. So I guess it was only a matter of time before lightening would strike and bring a limb down. A huge branch broke off the ash in the back, struck the shed roof and put a hole in it. About a month later, a branch broke off the maple in our front yard, taking the mailbox out. Fred forbid the girls to play on their swingset anymore, worried a falling branch would take them out! Time to call for the very expensive tree service.

Yesterday a whole crew of men arrived to remove the two offending trees and trim up the others. I took a few pictures and then the girls and I left, not fully trusting that these guys would not let the tree fall onto the house.

We returned to find the ugly stump and our yard bare. This tree was like an old friend, our towering maple that gave us cool shade in the summer and dropped a carpet of gold in the autumn. I will miss this tree. We could always plant another, of course. More new beginnings. I always resist change.

4-H Fair

We just spent three days at the 4-H Fair. My girls just can't get enough. This is the highlight of their summer. What simple, low-tech, good family fun! The first day we had to work, the responsibility and duty of belonging to one of the 4-H clubs. The second day we brought my granddaughter Lana with us. She was just as excited to be here as my daughters. She loved everything we did and everything we saw. She was especially fascinated with the giant cow, luring the people in from the road outside.

Lana is usually a shy little girl, so we were in shock when she wanted to join the dance competition under the tent. My girls couldn't even be persuaded to join her until some of their friends arrived. Here is Arielle teaching Lana to do the "Cotton-Eyed Joe."

After awhile the music got too loud for even the best dancers.

But here is what we came for--the fabric sale. Hundreds of hours were needed to pull this thing off. The proceeds are what sustains our club.

And what a thrill for the kids to see their sewing projects on display!

A day with the grandkids

Kelsey, Laci and Arielle
The Happy Crew

Sisters

I had the privilege of spending the day at my son's house. My older grandchildren Kelsey and Seth are here for the summer. We were so glad to have more time with them before they return to Minnesota. Arielle adores Kelsey. They do a lot of "girl talk." Seth is at that wonderful age for a boy--12. I remember my own sons at that age. They are personable and talkative and still well... boys. Not yet going through the stepping stones to manhood that can be so exasperating. Our little Seth is still affectionate and sweet, and he gives the best hugs ever.

Liana enjoyed playing with 4-year-old Mattie all day, and I loved holding and feeding and caring for my youngest grandchild, Laci. She is 15-months-old and is trying so hard to communicate in words. I remember Arielle at that age, stringing words together to get her baby ideas across.

We had a pleasant day without fighting (well, not much anyway) or tears. The baby never even cried once. I had trouble getting them to smile for a group shot though!

I am so blessed to be related to these precious children.

Cars

As a disclaimer, I am not a "car person." I don't notice cars, I don't think about cars or wish for a particular car. I just like a car to get me where I'm going. But the cars I've had make me think back on different stages of my life.

I learned to drive on a '58 Buick Special, my mother's car. But I had no attachment to it, and for years after I was car-less. My first car that was my very own was an old three tone '65 Ford Fairlane. The three colors were red, white and primer. I drove it into the city every day when I was in nursing school and I used to say it ran on the Spirit of God because every day that car started up was a miracle.

Then there was my '79 blue Ford Pinto. It was new and fabulous. I learned to drive a stick-shift with it. Then we learned the gas tank might explode and we traded it in for a used Dodge Aries. This car transported Cub Scouts and soccer players. Sweaty boys were always piled in it and we traveled many miles and many years.

When Fred and I got married we bought a Suburu Outback. It was a fun car, small and zippy. My baby Arielle rode in it, strapped in her carseat. When Liana came home we bought a new 2001 Ford Windstar van. I didn't want to be a van mom! But at the time we were driving back and forth across the country and needed something roomy and comfortable. I grew to love my van. I took my girls to Chinese school in it, and to dance classes and church and the beach. We packed in other people's kids and our big kids and our friends. It held all four of our bikes and we could put the seats down and load furniture and lumber or just about anything we needed to cart around.

On Monday Fred told me we should take advantage of the Cash for Clunkers rebate. It was supposed to be the very last day of the program. The van has been costing us money in repairs and it was a big gas-guzzler. It's trade-in value was next to nothing. But, Fred, my van! The girls and I love our van.

So we headed to the dealership. We found the smallest, cheapest car. The salesman asked what color we wanted. The girls and I said, "Anything but red." I'm not a flashy person. Then he said red was the only color he had that night. We test drove this tiny, cute car and it felt right. Solid, bigger inside than it appears outside.

Two hours later we were told we were missing a piece of documentation. We took a 40 minute drive home and back to retrieve it. Another hour and we are told those papers still weren't good enough. We went home without the car. No deal. The salesman said he would call if the Senate voted to extend the program. I didn't really want a new car, but now I was disappointed.

The next day the salesman called. The dealership was allowing one more day for the rebate. We cleaned out our much-loved van, finding mementos of long ago, and headed back out. Another two hours and we drove off the lot in a 2009 Honda Fit. Instead of being joyful, I was in tears. My van! What have we done? Such ambivalence! What's wrong with me?

I realize the sadness is because my girls are growing up. It's the end of an era. We can't load this car with the big wagon the girls used to ride in on the boardwalk. We're not transporting strollers and carseats anymore. If we drive south, we'll take Fred's car. I will eventually embrace this new stage of life. Cut-back, down-size, simplify.

What is this??

I haven't seen this strange thing in our yard for a couple of years. But today there were several. They are about 6 inches tall, bright orange and the tips look like they have been dipped in chocolate syrup. For some reason they attract large flies. These things crop up overnight and by afternoon they totally disappear. I think they must be some sort of alien creature. Weird and scary to have in your yard. Click on the picture to get a good view.

Give up? I just searched to find the answer. Great website-www.mushroomexpert.com. These things are stinkhorn mushrooms, also known as mutinous caninus. I don't think I would eat one or even touch one, but the mushroom guy says they are not dangerous. The brown chocolate tip is actually a slime that carries the mushroom's spores. It gives off a four odor that attracts flies. The flies slurp up the slime, ingesting the spores and also get the spores on their feet. They carry them off to other locations and that's how the fungus reproduces. Fascinating, isn't it?

Good Old Summertime

Picnic in the Park

Flying in the Backyard


Sidewalk Chalk


Girlfriends

More Girlfriends

Close your eyes and think back to summer when you were a child. What images, smells, and feelings come to mind? Growing up in Arizona, I think first of all--HOT. The heat, the stifling heat that silenced the world. Even the birds were quiet. But we kids did not mind the heat. I think of the scorching sidewalk that burned our feet, and the shade of the trees in the front yard that provided a refuge from the burning sun. We corraled grasshoppers by making a fence with our legs and pretended they were pets. I don't know what kind of docile critters those were because our grasshoppers here would jump away from such childish nonsense. I remember flip-flops (we called them thongs) that were studded with huge thorns after we came in from the yard. I think of icy red kool-aid and the sound of our cooler pumping damp, cold air into our house and the smooth, cool linoleum floors where my sister and I played. I loved summer. I wish I could slow down and love it again. I am trying to fill the girls' days with activities and friends, but somehow it just makes life crazy. Maybe I need to just do what my mom did--nothing, except give us freedom to explore and time to daydream. We amused ourselves and had loads of fun.

North vs. South

Where do your sentiments lie? Are you a Northerner or a Southerner? Are you citified or countrified? Maybe the test is in how you like your green beans. Actually, maybe the deciding factor is whether you call them green beans or string beans.

Our garden is bountiful this year! Lots of rain has made the vegetation lush and our little piece of the earth is producing way more than we can eat. Come on over! We're happy to share!

So anyway, we have lots of green beans. That's what we call them in Pennsylvania. I'm always looking for recipes to use them to tempt Fred to eat more than he does. The girls and I need no coaxing. Here is my favorite recipe:

Take stems off beans. Rinse off the dirt. (No pesticides to worry about.) Steam in water about 9 minutes. Add a little butter. Fantastic! Sometimes we sprinkle on a little Parmesan cheese and maybe serve it with hot rice.

Last year I came across a southern, country-style recipe and we all liked it. My friend also said she prepares them in a similar way: Fry up a pound of bacon til crisp. When cool, crumble the bacon. Take 1/4 cup of the bacon fat and put in a pot. Stir in a mess of beans, cleaned and prepared. Add 2 cups of chicken broth and some garlic salt and pepper. Cover and simmer about 30 minutes. Then add some quartered red potatoes and a chopped onion. Cook another 30 minutes. Then stir in the bacon. Now the original recipe calls for adding in a stick of butter at this point. What?! There is plenty of grease already in this dish. So I leave that out. This is mighty good anyway. So I'm a northern girl with southern roots, but I lean toward less cooking of my vegetables and using less fat.

My two daughters have their own favorite way with beans. They walk through the rows of bean plants, barefoot preferably, snapping off a slender pod and popping it into their mouths. The only cooking done is by the warmth of the summer sun.

How do you like your beans?

Wedding weekend, Part 4

Here are the final reflections on our family wedding. We arrived at the empty reception hall and set about preparing it to receive the guests. We set out the cake, cleared the banquet table, lit the candles, spread fresh pink rose petals on the other tables, and dimmed the lights. The place looked festive! People started arriving and then Helen came with the food. What a worker she is! In no time at all, thanks to her expertise, the food was ready to serve. I enjoyed serving the delicious food to the guests. I got to see the people close up and interact with each one a little.

The rest of the evening flew by. Helen and I had a quick meal together, but otherwise I didn't seem to have a chance to talk with anyone, even my husband. Fred and Helen loaded the car and returned all the equipment.

The one highlight of the rest of the evening was dancing with my son. He chose a Marc Cohn song, "The Things We've Handed Down".

Will you laugh just like your mother
Will you sigh like your old man
Will some things skip a generation
Like I've heard they often can...

It's hard to let go of the baby of the family. Jon was the youngest of the boys. He always resented that we babied him and had trouble accepting the fact that he was a grown-up. But he surely is. He is mature and responsible and works hard to take care of his family. As we dance I remember other songs and other occasions when I danced with Jon. When he was a newborn baby, right before Christmas, I think of swaying with him in my arms, singing John Denver's "A Baby Just Like You". But I changed the words to sing, "Merry Christmas, little Jonathan, Merry Christmas everyone..." Then years later, influenced by our country-western days on the plains of Oklahoma, I would gather my little boy in my arms and dance through the house singing along with Alabama's "Mountain Music." Jon would squeal with laughter and I would be out-of-breath with our lively dance moves. By the time our dance tonight ends, I am in tears.

It's a Marc Cohn night. Jon and Chrissy dance to "True Companion." They look so tender together, so in love, as the music plays.

"I've got my heart set on our wedding day
I've got this vision of a girl in white
Made my decision that it's you all right..."

Then later, the only time the dance floor is filled is when "Silver Thunderbird" is played. All eight of our kids together. I snap pictures of them all.

Finally, it's over. My feet hurt. We're all exhausted. It's a long drive home on dark and windy roads because we get lost. Rain had threatened all day and now we see lightening bolts pierce the black sky. At the moment we walk through the door of our house, the rain comes down hard.

Wedding weekend, Part 3

Lana Bella

Nick and Kelsey

Mattie, Liana, and Lana

Arielle and Mattie

Damien, Gretchen, and Liana

Stacia and Dominic

Marissa and Paul

Anthony and Kim

Lana and Jonathan

Wedding weekend, Part 2

What is it about a wedding that draws out our emotions? Our family wedding was probably nothing special in the eyes of an outsider. Just another family going through the motions that our culture has adopted. But for us, it was a tender time of reflection. We had tears, we had laughter, we had reflection on the past along with regrets, we had gratitude for the present and great hope for the future.

The night before there was no rehearsal dinner and all that business. This was a simple wedding. Jon and Chrissy had their own tasks to take care of and they had to meet with the pastor one last time to finalize the ceremony. Then the hall had to be decorated. By the time we got there to do it, it was 9:00! How hard could it be, I thought. Chrissy had several boxes of things to hang and put out on the tables. Arielle, Stacia and I started to work on the tables. Jon got a ladder and began hanging streamers. It proved to be more difficult than anticipated. Then there were paper lanterns to attach to the ceiling and Jon had to move the big ladder to a new spot for each one. We finished up about midnight, all of us exhausted.

On Saturday morning, a few hours before the ceremony, our house was a happenin' place! My son Dominic and his fiancee were house guests, coming from out-of-state for the wedding. They always bring a special joy on their arrival anyway. No special occasion is necessary for that. But this day our house became the hair and nail salon and preparation place for the bride to get ready to meet her groom.

Nail polish remover and nail polish fumes filled the air. Our kitchen counter was loaded with bobby pins, combs, brushes, artificial flowers and hair spray. Snacks and meals were hastily microwaved. We all cleaned ourselves up and made up and waited...for the bride. She was supposed to be getting her make-up done at a store in the mall. Where was she? We were all busy getting ready, but I was starting to worry. Finally I called the store and asked if she was still there. No one ever heard of her! What??? I was still on the phone when Chrissy arrived.

Marissa hastily got her seated and began work on her hair. We only had about an hour until the ceremony! The rest of us made our final preparations and we got Lana, the flower girl, ready. I was nervously watching the clock. Chrissy still had to get dressed! We rushed her into Arielle's bedroom so she could get into her dress. Marissa attached the veil to her beautiful hair. We ran out the door, the bride climbing into our minivan. I see the comedy in it now, but did not at the moment. The rings! The shoes! Did we have everything?

We dropped Chrissy and Lana off at a side door and went inside the church. All eyes turned around to us. We were late. Damien in his blue shirt greeted us. My handsome son was perfect in his role. Gretchen looked so elegant and professional, ready to take pictures. Dominic looked like a real videographer. We were going to pull this off!

Little Lana came in wearing a lovely wreath of red roses in her blonde hair. Usually so shy, she tossed her petals and smiled at all the people. Then Chrissy came down the aisle with her dad. Her big moment! All of us married women immediately think back on our own weddings, when we took this trip down the aisle. Chrissy was stunning in her strapless gown. Jon waited for her, his blue eyes glowing, his face serious and determined. My son who has been through so much. I was touched hearing his vows. He is such an honest, sincere man. He means every word.

The ceremony is over and we all go outside. All eyes are on the new married couple. Lana has already removed her rose wreath and she is dancing around. Bubbles fill the air, cameras flash from the crowd. Now to more practical matters. The food. Helen leaves to pick it up. I request our family photo be taken first so we can leave to set up. Off to the reception.

More later...

Wedding weekend, Part 1

My son Jonathan got married! My youngest son, my baby boy. It's hard to believe, but I was there and saw it with my own eyes.

It was a family wedding, a low-budget affair, but I'm convinced this kind can be just as meaningful as a lavish event. Since money was an issue, family members volunteered their special talents and time. I am amazed by our gifted family! Dominic videotapes interviews for his job, so he offered his services as the videographer for the wedding. Gretchen, my son Damien's girlfriend, is an amateur photographer, but she is very talented, and she has professional equipment. So she took the official pictures. Arielle took over my camera and also took pictures all night. Marissa is a hair stylist and she offered to do our hair. She worked for hours on us, after working at her real job all morning. A friend from work, his brother a DJ with all the needed tools, offered to play the music and make all the announcements. His payment--a game system that Jon promised him.

I had originally offered to prepare food for the reception. I was thinking of how Fred and I cook at church every Tuesday night for Alpha. We know how to cook for a crowd. But we also have access to a professional kitchen and large size bowls and pans. And a refrigerator and warmer. What was I thinking? Maybe I could pull it off if I didn't also need to attend the wedding! So I was thinking it through and realized it was nearly impossible to do. Panicking, I thought of my friend Helen. She is a professional in the food service business. Maybe she could tell me how to logistically pull this off.

When I explained my dilemma, Helen immediately said, "I'll do it." No hesitation, she just offered her expertise and experience and equipment. Then I told her our ability to pay. It wasn't much. Fred and I didn't have much to contribute. My son Dominic had matched our donation, so we had double it, but still, it wasn't much. Helen acted like money was not an issue.

A scripture comes to mind here: "There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother." Proverbs 18:24. I think I can paraphrase without compromising God's word. "There is a friend who sticks closer than a sister." I am certainly not judging my own sister who lives out-of-state. But God has given us good friends who become family. What a blessing that is! Helen has always been like family. She is at every family event of ours, as we are with her and her children. Our girls have grown up together. She is one I know I can call upon for anything. What a feeling of security that is. But I never intended for Helen to actually prepare and serve all the food! At the time I asked her, I just needed advice.

So Helen arranged preparation of the food, picked it up, set it up, served it, cleaned it up, and took all the supplies back to her kitchen. It was a monumental task. Her response to all this, "It's what families do." Helen, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, for being part of our family.

Other people contributed greatly in making this a wonderful event. Kim, Fred's son Anthony's wife, and Gretchen helped Chrissy with her dress buying and Kim even returned with her when she had to be fitted for the alteration. Kim and Kristina, my son Nick's girlfriend, provided food for the wedding shower we gave so we could meet Chrissy's extended family. Stacia, my son Dominic's fiancee, went over to the hall with Arielle and me the night before to help decorate. It was a tedious long affair, but she provided advice and worked tirelessly. Dominic stayed after the reception to clean-up. Fred provided limo service for the bride and flower girl. He also let Jon borrow his GPS so Jon and Chrissy could find their way to their two-day honeymoon at the beach.

Damien was an usher. He dressed the part too. Very stylish in his beautiful blue shirt. He lent an air of sophistication to the ceremony at the tiny country church. My oldest son, Nick, was the life of the party. Always the dancer, he taught the kids the typical wedding dances. Lana, Liana, and Mattie, Kristina's daughter, provided the "cute" factor. They danced the night away. I kept looking at Liana on the dance floor thinking, who is this child? I never knew she would enjoy herself so much. As my mother says, "She was a dancin' fool."

Chrissy's dad provided the reception hall and we are all grateful to him. He came up to me at the end of the evening and thanked me for the food. Helen had already gone, so I wish he could have told her directly. I thanked him for his contribution. He said, "We all do what we can do." And everyone did. It was a beautiful, simple wedding. That's all it needed to be.

More details on the wedding to come.

Francesca the firefly

Lana is staying with us for two days. She loves coming here, not because she has a wonderful grandmother, but because of Arielle and Liana. Arielle watches over her and nurtures and comforts her, and Liana is her playmate.

I had the best grandmother in the world. She had no children to entertain me, but her home was a safe haven of peace in my turbulent childhood. And she loved me. It's a simple as that. That was all I really needed from her. In the big picture of a lifetime, my moments with her were brief, but my memories are precious. I've many times tried to conjure up all the images and feelings I remember before the years blur and fade them away.

I want Lana to remember me, Fred, Arielle and Liana this way. We see Lana way more often than I saw my grandmother, so Lana's life will be full of events and activities with us. What special moments will she collect to think back on when she's an old woman? I hope she will know she was loved.

When Lana first arrived yesterday, she and Liana played Polly Pockets for hours. The two of them are inseparable and it's hard to get them involved in anything besides their imaginative play. But late in the afternoon Fred suggested a walk in a park not far from here and everyone was agreeable. The girls were all very tired from the wedding the night before (more on that later) but they enjoyed deer watching. I'm sure Lana will always remember her Aunt Arielle carrying her piggyback when she was so weary she couldn't take another step.

After dinner and ice cream on the deck, the girls got jars for collecting fireflies. Even though it wasn't very dark, the girls easily caught several. Liana named her firefly Francesca and she searched the yard for a tidbit of flower and leaf that Francesca might enjoy. Lana was sidetracked by a robin eggshell she found in the yard and wanted me to preserve it for her to take home. When it was time to come inside for baths, the girls opened their jars and the fireflies gracefully ascended into the sky. These childhood moments are captured for such a short time. We can't hold on to them. Night inevitably falls and we release them, gone forever except in our memories. Good-bye, Francesa and all your friends.