Countdown to wonder

November 26, 2012November 26, 2012 / Sheila / 24 Comments

Thanksgiving is done, and December is around the corner. In “normal” years, I’d be thinking Christmas. Gifts, cards, food, decorating, tree, travel…all the trimmings. This year I’m thinking baby. Little Jack is just a few weeks out, and I’m ramping up to get work projects done and make sure the home fires stay burning while I’m on baby duty. Not that I mind. It’s a treat to look forward to, and whether I’m caring for little Riley, precocious two-year-old, or snuggling newborn Jack, I’m excited to experience the miracle of life again, courtesy of Stephanie.

Riley was five weeks early. Jack may stay tucked until his due date, mid-January. But if he’s an early bird too, Christmas could bring a little extra excitement this year. Of course healthy is the goal, and no one is rushing him. But the clock is definitely ticking. Good thing Seattle is only a short flight away!

Being with Riley this last week reminded me again that children are vessels of wonder. They’re work, and expense, and a never-ending draw on energy. But beyond the effort, there’s effortless charm. She turns it on, and I’m hooked…this little girl melts my heart, and she isn’t even trying.

I thought I was having a great time with one little one. Now, for a few brief months, I’ll have the best of both worlds when we visit: a cuddly baby, and a busy little girl who is a sponge, picking up language and making it her own. She’s a funny little commenter on her world, and you never quite know how she’s going to interpret the moment.

This year, I’m streamlining tradition. There’ll be other years for decking the halls, and rolling out the red carpet. This year, I’m just packing a bag and getting prepared. When babies come, you go. Thankfully there are many helping hands, so I’ll wait here until I get the call. Then, whatever the date, my Christmas present will be here, right on time…Jack time.

Riley and Jack

I am learning

October 29, 2012 / Sheila / 11 Comments

I am learning to accept the feeling of unease that frequently settles in the pit of my stomach. I am learning to live with uncertainty, with fears, with doubt. I am learning this because in the last few years I’ve experienced:

~ living far, far from family

~ my son’s deployment to Iraq

~ my daughter’s miscarriage of her first pregnancy

~ my father’s battle, and loss, to cancer

~ the death of my grandmother

~ family torn by divorce

~ stress, stress, more stress

~ distress in my marriage

~ uncertainty about work and income

~ a house for sell that didn’t sell

~ the struggles of my adult children with jobs and life decisions

and life continues. This is my list since 2006. I’ve counted other losses and difficulties before. These are the major markers since we moved to Alaska.

And what do I say? What do I do? What can I do? I pray. I feed myself the sustaining, nurturing words of wisdom that encourage me when I need the spark of hope. I believe in belief. I believe that above all, there is goodness in the world, there is joy in the morning, there is comfort for the downcast. I count the ways I’m fortunate, and the joys that fill my life even when I’m anxious.

I tell myself that life works out. It will be all right, whatever “it” may be. Have faith. But sometimes, I falter a bit. What if it doesn’t work out? I see others whose stories don’t end well, whose lives have not worked out according to plan. What if I, or those I love, have the same experience? What if?

I face the fear, feel the physical sensation in my stomach. We’re old friends now, this sensation and me. I recognize it for what it is. It feels good to be stronger than this feeling. This isn’t a sign of bravery. It is a victory of strength, strength I didn’t know I had, strength I am growing day by day. It comes from recognition. I can only do so much, I can only do what I can do. I, who avoid conflict, am learning to confront.

Back to first principles. Do your best. Do your part. Don’t give up. Appreciate what you have. Share when you can. Believe.

Last weekend I found a site that expresses this eloquently. If you are looking for encouragement and a call to be thankful, grateful, joyful, this may speak to you.

A Holy Experience

I am learning to rest, to have peace, to keep my joy…I didn’t have to acquire it, I came here with joy ingrained in my being. But I’ve struggled to hold it, through some of life’s question marks. And even as I write this, I know that I’ll have to do this again tomorrow, and the next day, and next.

Saturday night, hearing the tsunami warning sirens, racing to throw a few things in the car before evacuating, some of these thoughts were flashing through my mind. I thought of family, plans, dreams, impacted by unseen force of earthquake. How do you plan for earthquake? For tsunami? The answer is, you really don’t. You can do so little. But you do what you can. You evacuate when you’re told to. You follow instructions. You hope, you pray. You thank God for the people, the good things, filling your life. And when the rush of the moment is over and you realize there’s no life threatening emergency after all, you promise yourself you’ll remember that flash of insight. I have so much.

I am blessed. I am grateful. And I am learning.

Riley Girl

October 13, 2012October 13, 2012 / Sheila / 10 Comments

Riley, Princess and Explorer

This girl has snuggled in deep in my heart. Love this Little!

How lucky am I to be her “Gram!”

Independence

October 10, 2012 / Sheila / 12 Comments

Last week I heard Riley, two-year old explorer and budding princess, say quite clearly over the phone, “I did it! All by myself!”

A lot of the good things in life are built through cooperation. Working together, sharing, joining hands and hearts to create something big, something meaningful, is a joyful experience. It is good to be part of a team, and a team effort.

But if there is strength in numbers, there is also satisfaction in self-reliance. And though, as was famously noted in our national political discussion recently, no one succeeds without help, still, a lot of success can be ascribed to individual effort.

Even two-year old princesses understand that, and celebrate it, with their cry of recognition: “I did it, all by myself!”

Our son is learning this in a new way. He is establishing himself, all by himself, without ready-made structure in place around him. He’s moved back to Colorado, to the home of his heart, and he’s creating a home that will nurture his heart.

We watch from afar. We talk, but he’s doing the work. We mentor and advise, but he’s doing the heavy lifting.

When he left home, it was to join the army, and surely, there is no more structured environment for a 19-year-old to land in. Now he’s out of the army and navigating without a team around him. He’s job hunting, apartment hunting, life hunting. He has some big decisions to make. Will he, or won’t he, after resisting for six years since high school, choose college and more education? Will he find himself working in whatever job he can land with his skills and experience and be content, or will he choose something that is out of reach at the moment, that he will have to work to attain?

I don’t know, and I’m not sure he does either, at this very moment. He thinks he’s been independent since he joined the army, right out of high school, and to some degree, that’s true. But I see him gaining a whole new footing in the world of adult responsibility. I see him learning, doing, saying, “I did it, all by myself!”

It is good to be 25, and independent! I’m proud of him for doing something I never did…for jumping out there and going for it. He’s not always successful, and we don’t always agree with his decisions. But he owns them, and he stands by them.

My husband says “He’s becoming a man.” It’s an anxious time for me. For all my sunny nature and positive outlook, when it comes to my kids, I’m a first-class worrier. I try to see ahead and around corners and think with them, sometimes for them. But I know, in my heart of hearts, that’s not the right approach. I squelch my anxiety and wait for news of this interview, or that application. No 25-year-old needs a nervous mom hovering in the background. I am not picking him up from kindergarten. This is not his first date.

I thought I already did this. I thought I let go years ago. Funny how you find pockets of emotion as you watch your kids move through different phases of life, through experience. This new bid for independence is exciting for Alex. It makes me nervous. He’s pumped, I’m scared.

But like the earlier moments of letting go, I’ll manage this too. First, because I am physically removed, literally many states and two time zones away, and I don’t have a lot of option. Second, because it is the right thing to do. Though I wish I could provide a safety net for him, the truth is, beyond a certain point, no parent can really protect. The next generation has to find their own way, make their own decisions and mistakes, and celebrate their triumphs.

I’m just waiting to hear, on the other end of the line, “I did it, all by myself!”

Reset

October 3, 2012 / Sheila / 16 Comments

October, and life rolls on. Work, love, loss.

Relationships shift. Two in our family are experiencing divorce. Cross country moves, disrupted lives, sadness, renewed hope…so much change.

Through it all, we talk. We listen. We advise. We hope. We get up and do it all over again.

I feel humbled by life. The older I get, the more I think no one has it figured out. No one can fully understand or appreciate another person’s perspective, or choices. The best we can do is to be honest with ourselves, and be kind to others in the process.

Well, maybe that’s enough. Be honest, be kind. Come back to first principles. Appreciate the simple things, the sweet things. Trust that life will work out. Look for the good.

“Don’t stumble over something behind you.”

Bright lights, big city

July 22, 2012July 22, 2012 / Sheila / 4 Comments

The first stop of our trip was Seattle. That’s required when you leave Ketchikan. Alaska Airlines is the only carrier that flies from Ketchikan to the lower 48, and all flights stop in Seattle…sort of like all roads lead to Rome.

In our case, it works out nicely since our daughter lives there, and it gives us an automatic opportunity to connect with her family. Well, ok, the star of the show is Riley, but that’s just the way it is…no offense to the adults in the world. Give me a two year old any day!

While we were there, we took in a ball game…Seattle Mariners vs the Texas Rangers, at Safeco Field.

Guess who won? I hear the Mariners are having a bad year, and this game didn’t help. Didn’t score one run! Lucky for us we were there more for the ambience and experience. There’s just something about a baseball game on a nice summer afternoon…always makes me hungry for a brat! We haven’t gone to a professional game since we lived in Colorado, and occasionally made it to see the Rockies play. Weather cooperated, Riley cooperated, and we got to enjoy the whole show. Did the 7th inning stretch, got popcorn, chocolate dipped fruit, and ice cream, and enjoyed a little people watching.

Our other big event was a trip to the Space Needle for dinner. But this wasn’t just a dinnner…it was a 30th birthday celebration for our son-in-law, Matt, along with his parents.

It was a perfect place for the celebration. The views are amazing…the outer ring of the restaurant revolves, so you get a view of the city and the Puget Sound as you eat, and the mechanism is so smooth, you don’t even feel the movement. You just watch the views change. And the food was pretty good too.

After dinner we went up to the observation deck and got a few more photos. This is the 50th anniversary of the building of the Space Needle. It was built in 1962 for the World’s Fair that was held that year in Seattle. It is the city’s iconic landmark, and it’s fun to experience the retro feel of the structure itself…sort of a step back in time/step into the future thing.

Seattle is a fun place to visit, and I feel fortunate to have a connection there. I’ve learned that as a parent of adult children, where your children live, a piece of you lives. It’s not about owning a home there…it’s about a part of your heart belonging there.

There’s only one thing that I don’t like, and that’s the traffic. I’m reminded that there is a price to pay for all the lovely attractions and shopping opportunities so conveniently clustered together. Thank goodness, we don’t have to drive when we visit. We’re along for the ride, and our daughter or son-in-law does the heavy lifting with regard to navigating the big city bustle.

Well, on to the next!

Sister by heart

July 11, 2012 / Sheila / 12 Comments

This is a double duty post. Today I’m wishing my sister-in-law…well, I should just drop the “in-law” part…a wonderful happy birthday. JeannaLynn is my sister, a sister by the gift of marriage, and a sister of my heart.

And that brings me to the second thing I want to share with her: gratitude. Not for the first time, but for the first time in a public way, I have to thank her for saving my marriage last year. That sounds dramatic, and I am not a drama queen. But that is the truth. A few others who knew we were in distress were helpful, loving, concerned. But it was JeannaLynn who stepped in and did the thing I could not do for myself. She rescued me, and us. And I am forever grateful.

How do you thank someone who does that for you?

You thank them from a depth of gratitude you didn’t know you possessed. You thank them privately. You thank them publicly. You thank them with a humble heart.

All of these things I feel, and all of them I want to share.

The details are not important, and in any case, they are a private matter. The rescue, and the outcome, are the important points of my story. But it isn’t even my story, in particular, that is important. The important thing is acknowledging that this woman is making a difference. She, along with her husband, is counseling, ministering, saving, and bringing relief to couples who have found themselves on the brink: the brink of despair, the brink of divorce.

She speaks as one who knows. JeannaLynn had her own struggles with her marriage. She has known the depths. She’s done the hard work to change her own story, and she understands what it takes to maintain the victory. It is hard-won, and all the clichés that you regularly hear apply: you can’t take it for granted; you have to work at it every day; no relationship is immune from the toll of stress and life challenges.

JeannaLynn is a nurse, and for many years has focused on the area of obstetrics. For several years now she has taught childbirth classes at a local hospital, combining the roles of caregiver, mentor, teacher, and surrogate parent to the women who attend her sessions.

A few years ago, she decided to become a Life Coach, and she’s completed the coursework and testing to become a certified provider of coaching services. That dovetailed nicely with the work that has become her passion. Married to a minister, over the years JeannaLynn and Richard, her husband, had developed a marriage counseling ministry, working with church members who were in crisis in their relationships. A couple of years ago, they decided to do counseling full-time, and the rest, as they say, is history.

JeannaLynn and Richard work as a team, and they have been so effective in their ministry that they have a growing list of clients whose lives have been forever changed, and changed for the better, by their efforts. They step into lives and listen, teach coping skills, teach respect and value and honor. They are friends to marriages, not taking sides, but supporting both spouses in moments of turmoil. They share their story, acknowledging that relationships take tremendous energy, commitment, and focus. They also encourage couples to find the fun again, to prioritize each other, to understand that it is not easy to stay together. But it can be so rewarding, beyond belief.

In our situation, it was our unique relationship with JeannaLynn that made our progress possible. She knew us, knew our story, and was able, without taking sides or expressing judgment, to encourage, instruct, and be with us through the refining fire. She physically came to our house and spent several days, patiently listening, passionately lobbying us to see the big picture, to see each other with different eyes, to be true to ourselves, and to recognize that we could do that and hold on to the good that was between us.

We allowed her in. But she was willing to come in, and she did it with grace and honesty, with courage and respect.

Last year we were lost, and she helped us to find each other.

On the surface, we don’t look very different. But when you’ve been lost, and now you’re found, you sing in your heart. You appreciate differently. The smallest things are joys again. Old is new, and what was hard is soft.

Once I took a lot for granted. Now I take nothing for granted. I am humbled to think that I have another chance at happiness, and another chance to get it right. And for all the work that I have put into this renewal, and for all that Rob has done, I know who is at the heart of this opportunity. Thank you, JeannaLynn, from the bottom of my heart. And may this birthday be the beginning of another year of blessings, impact, and excitement as you witness the daily miracles of lives changed and hearts rescued.

JeannaLynn and Richard can be contacted at WGHJ.

Little #2

June 19, 2012June 19, 2012 / Sheila / 12 Comments

So this week I get to be the proud mom in my blog posts: yesterday with a birthday wish to my son, and today, an announcement from my daughter:

Baby #2 is joining the family. Riley will be a big sister in January, and Stephanie and Matt will be in the thick of parenting with a not-quite-three year old and a newborn. The lucky guys! Lots of work, but wonderful, meaningful…the best stuff of life.

Watching this unfold is fun, almost as much as when I was in a leading role. It’s a lot more restful, from this vantage point! I can’t wait until Riley understands her new position. She’s already quite the little firstborn. I recognize the type you know, since I am one, I’m married to one, and I gave birth to one. Firstborns are a little bossy. We just can’t help ourselves. We like to make sure things are done. And Stephanie and Matt have exactly the same mix in family order that Rob and I had. Two firstborns married, had their firstborn, and now will add a baby to the mix.

I always say that any family dysfunction we had was the result of our mix of three first-borns and a baby, in birth order. Three of us always wanted to direct, and the youngest one marched to his own drummer. Well, maybe that was his best option, with three of us leading the way all the time.

Anyway, exciting, happy news! I got it as a mother’s day present, but it wasn’t my secret to share, until today. Today the little ultrasound image is up on Stephanie’s Facebook page. I’m a believer in letting the one with the big news share the big news. So now that’s done, and I can share it too.

Can’t wait for January and a new little to cuddle!

Happy 25th!

June 18, 2012 / Sheila / 9 Comments

Today my son is 25. Alex is twenty-five! My baby, so grown up and definitely, not a baby anymore. That’s been true for a long time. But there’s something about the number that catches me, pulls a bit.

Maybe it’s the “quarter of a century” thing, or the fact that 25 year olds are considered by car insurance companies to be a lower risk to insure…or some other vague and hard-to-pinpoint marker of this year. Regardless of the reason, this seems like more than the ordinary birthday. It feels like a milestone.

We talk two or three times a week, and he sends me funny texts…usually something to do with bacon, or a YouTube link that will make me laugh. I send him books, sometimes by favorite authors we both enjoy, sometimes by someone I want him to come to know.
He tells me how his latest kitchen experiment turned out and sometimes asks for a recipe of a childhood treat.
He brags on his workouts, and gives me updates on his gaming status. I never can follow the video game storyline, but he shares it anyway.

He is a blend of Rob and me. I see pieces of us in him, apparent in his talents and his tastes. And his faults. I’m a loving mother, but I’m not blind.

But I think I see an amazing man emerging, leaving behind the last traces of boyhood. Five years in the army, right out of high school, and a young marriage that has already weathered significant separation by deployment, have fostered maturity. He bought a house, has purchased vehicles, navigated his way in, through, and out of the military, all with little to no help from us. He informs us, he asks our advice. But he has been largely independent. Like we raised him to be.

He’s strongly opinionated, and right or wrong, he has the courage of his convictions. A Gemini, he has the characteristic twin personality, and can move with lightening speed from joking and humor to the other half of himself, the old soul that has been part of his makeup since birth. He’s a tough, motorcycle-riding, battle-hardened veteran who loves dogs and can discuss CS Lewis and mythology with ease. He has soft spots in unexpected places. He has an old-fashioned sense of honor and a kid’s appreciation of animation and game-playing. He’s a clean cut guy who doesn’t look his age, but when I listen to him, I think he’s already older than twenty-five.

Sometimes I am exasperated. He can be stubborn, and sometimes his honesty could use a wee bit of diplomacy mixed in. He’s smart, but not a conventional student, and I worry that unless he decides for himself that there’s value in more education, his options will reflect the lack of higher degrees.

But I’m also proud. This boy has grown up to find his own way, and to stand on his own. He’s loyal to his friends and commitments. He keeps the family ties that bind. He keeps his truth, and his faith. He thinks for himself, like we raised him to do.

Happy birthday, Alex! Happy 25th!

My mom

May 12, 2012 / Sheila / 8 Comments

I’m not going to be with my mom tomorrow, although we’ll have a chance to celebrate a belated Mother’s Day together in a couple of weeks. It would be nice to be with her on the day. But often we make do with phone calls to mark special events, the price of living many states apart.

While I won’t be with her in person, she knows my heart. In many ways, we are very different people, yet we share a strong bond that has stood the test of time and distance.

My mom is a passionate person, and cares deeply about family, faith, and country. She loves to cook big meals and have a crowd around her table. One of her favorite things to do is to plan treats for the little ones in the group. She has a play area set up for the small fry, and over the years the grandchildren and nieces and nephews have all had their turn among the toys. They’ve had their special cakes and tea parties, and they know she keeps kid food on hand at all times. “Goodie bags” and little “unbirthday” presents have marked many a visit to her house.

She’s a great one for family photos, and is always on a mission to gather the group to get an updated shot for her wall. You can see the changes over the years…the babies who are now teens, or worse, the young adults who are now grey adults.

She and my dad were married more than 50 years, and though he left us in 2008, he is still in her thoughts, a close companion throughout the days. She remains married, even in her widowed state.

She’s a strong woman, healthy, energetic, and motivated. She always has more to do than she can do in a day. She is creative, and when she was younger, channeled creativity into sewing, cooking, yard work, painting, and mothering. She made my wedding dress, sewed special things for my children, made drapes for the house. She’s an artist who painted in oils, and a gardener who loves flowers. She is a legendary cook, and has created memorable feasts over the years. She’s famous for her yeast rolls, her fried rice, and her Italian Cream cake, a few of her many specialties.

She’s enthusiastic about her work, continuing the commitment to Christian missions that she shared with my dad. She’s a writer and publisher, a traveler and a speaker. She is tireless in her efforts to share her heart, and her faith in God.

She is a prolific author and an amazing correspondent. Computer savvy, she emails and Facebooks friends and co-workers across the country and around the world. No slouch, my mom. She often works late into the night keeping up with her commitments.

She has been a support throughout my life, listening, listening, listening. She has heard my sorrows and my joys, and has made soothing noises at the right moments, rejoiced in the good things, and resisted opportunities to throw out the occasional “I told you so,” even when it has been warranted. She is ever hopeful for me and mine.

My mom is generous in her caring, ferocious in her concern, and sympathetic to a fault. I rarely catch her in a down mood. She’s carried along by the tide of her hopes and plans, and by the memories: so many good memories through the years.

My mom has been fortunate in many ways. Though not a rich woman by monetary standards, she has had love and family and calling to fill her life. Though the family picture has changed through the years, and some dear ones are not in more recent photos, she finds joy in those around her. And she looks toward the future, to accomplishing her goals, finishing her mission, and watching the grandchildren, and great grandchildren, grow.

Happy Mother’s Day to my mom, Betty Burton Choate: my example, my encourager, my friend, a charming woman with a charmed life, and a full life. Long may she live it!