A Mother Carries Her Babies Forever

I was recently scrolling my Substack feed (this is my new much-too-addictive time-suck, and I fear that I'll have to delete it, like I've deleted all the other social media sites that got to be too much), and I saw this fascinating post.

This explains a lot, doesn't it?  That bond between mother and child is an extraordinary thing.  It's almost like having your very heart living outside your body.  It's painful sometimes, for life is so very fragile and the world can be a scary place.  A mother's heart dies a thousand deaths, worrying about her babies.  But it's such a gift, to know that kind of love.  It's hard to imagine a love more profound.  And how incredible that we women were given that wondrous privilege: to be the ones who are co-creators, with God Himself, of human life.  I have five sons, all giants when I stand next to them now, and incredibly--through a miracle so awesome it could only come from God--their first home was in me.  I am often brought to tears by this knowledge.  I love them more than my life!  And  I love the idea that after they were born and started their own lives out in the world, separated from the mama who bore them, they might have left some of their cells behind in me.  I carry those boys with me always!

Dear readers, I'd like to ask you to please keep two of our sons and their wives in your prayers.  Sadly, two of our daughters-in-law recently miscarried babies in their first trimesters (this would have been the 8th child for one couple and the 6th for the other).  These precious wee ones join the nine other tiny Pearls who left this world too soon, before we ever had a chance to meet them, and with whom we hope to be reunited in the next life.  Without Faith--without the belief that God always knows what's best for us, even when our human brains are incapable of understanding why things happen the way they do--life would be unbearable sometimes.  There is so much sadness to endure here in the Valley of Tears.  But how comforting to think that those little ones left a bit of themselves behind in their mothers, and those sweet babies will be a part of them for the rest of their lives.

God is so good.  All the time.

Embracing the "Enough" Mindset

Apparently, there is a new home decor trend called the "Enough Movement."  I just saw an article about this (on Substack, I believe), and as I was reading it I realized that I've been way ahead of the curve on this one.  I had the "Enough" mindset ingrained in me long ago, very early in our marriage.

In a nutshell, here's what it's all about: homeowners are beginning to appreciate "homes that feel complete without constant updates."  They are resisting the urge to "constantly refresh, replace and renovate."  Instead they are embracing the idea of having a place that feels "complete, comfortable and fit for real life, not endless improvement."  It's all about "longevity over novelty and comfort over show."  I love this philosophy!  I love an imperfectly perfect house that has a history and reflects the personalities of the owners so much more than one that is so exquisitely appointed that it looks like it jumped out of the pages of a glossy home decorating magazine.

This, article, my dear readers, puts into words exactly how I've felt about home decor my whole adult life. This was partly because of financial concerns, to be sure (we couldn't have afforded constant home updates when we started out and were raising our five boys, even if we'd wanted them); but it was also because we were trying to be frugal: to feather our nest by doing paint touch-ups when necessary, adorning our walls with meaningful art and framed family photos, repurposing pieces of furniture as our family's needs changed, and purchasing new furniture that we planned (or at least hoped) would last us for years to come.  We were definitely in the "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" camp. 

Don't get me wrong: I love a good DIY home project as much as the next gal (such as when my husband and I refinished our basement here in VA to make a giant playroom for our grandkids, or when we turned our attached two-car garage in NH into an awesome sports-themed man cave/mudroom).  But I'm uncomfortable with the idea of ripping out perfectly good kitchen cabinets that are still functional and well-made, for instance, just because they aren't the latest popular style.  In our renovation-crazed culture, this sort of thing has been very much the norm for a number of years now; but I guess the tide is turning a bit.    

Another aspect of the "Enough Movement" is the idea of "choosing contentment over constant change"--and I can totally relate to that sentiment!  I have trouble with change, that's for sure.  Once I grow used to the way things look in our house, and I know that my kids and grandkids have grown used to them, too, I have trouble making any big changes.  I think there's something kind of comforting about the idea of entering a home you've known for years and finding almost everything exactly as you remember it. Especially if it's a warm, cozy, happy home--and I truly do hope that that's the way our family sees our place.  (This past year, I had to change a damaged rug, a runner that goes from our front door into the foyer area of the house.  I tried to get one almost exactly like the old one, but it was just a tad different.  And our then 8-year-old grandson immediately noticed and said, "You got a new rug."  They notice the smallest changes, I'll tell you!)

We've been in this VA house for almost ten years now. And sometimes, I look at the half-bath on the first floor and wonder if I should spruce it up a little.  It really hasn't changed at all since we moved in.  (I wrote a blog post about this bathroom long ago if you want to fact check me on that!)

The former owners had freshly painted these walls before we bought the house, and I liked the sky-blue color they'd chosen, especially since I was planning to have a bird theme going on in here. (I'd had birds in the bathrooms at our old house in NH, where we'd lived for 26 years, and to make this new house feel like "ours," I decided I had to do so again!)   I did decide to paint some fluffy white clouds right off the bat, because I felt like that blue "sky" was crying out for them.  But that's the only change I made.

These are photos taken of the birds on our NH bathroom walls, before
we painted over them to get that house ready for sale.

To be honest, I'm not a huge fan of pedestal sinks.  I much prefer a vanity with useful storage underneath. But the sink in our VA half-bath is pretty, undamaged, and most importantly, functional; so until it isn't, I'm going to be content to keep it.  (Not long ago, I dropped an old toothbrush down the drain when I was cleaning it, and we couldn't fish it out; so if that drain ever gets hopelessly clogged, we may have to get rid of it one day, and in that case I'll get a vanity.)  I'm also not a huge fan of the mirror above the sink; I probably would have chosen one with a fancy frame if it had been my choice.  But this one has beveled glass, and it's a great size and is doing its job beautifully, so I just can't bring myself to replace it.

My husband loves to play around with ChapGPT, so for fun I asked him to go on there and see what this bathroom would look like if we chose to make it a lot more HGTV-friendly.  I told him to give it the prompt, "show this bathroom with pretty floral wallpaper, a wood vanity with a marble top, and a stylish new mirror."  And this is the result it came up with:

Okay, guys, I get that this AI-designed bathroom is much more beautiful than ours.  I know what good taste looks like when I see it!  But it just doesn't look like "us."  So I guess the sky-blue walls, the clouds, the birds, and the pedestrian sink and mirror are here to stay.  They are, as they say, "Enough" for me.  For now, at least.

What say you, dear readers?  (Be honest, I can take it!)

Reading this post over, I realize that I sound a bit judgy.  So I want to make it clear that what works for me doesn't work for everyone.  Some of my favorite people on earth are really into renovation and redecorating projects, which they see as an outlet for their creativity (in the same way one might enjoy hobbies like sewing, painting, or woodworking).  They love the process itself, because they get true joy from the work involved and the way the results make their homes more efficient and beautiful.  If renovation is your thing, more power to you!  If your surroundings don't give you a feeling of calm and contentment, then by all means, put your DIY hat on and get to work! (And if I ever decide to re-do that bathroom, I'll be in touch!)

We're Back in VA

And it's hot!  So hot!

By the time we left NY yesterday morning, temperatures had been dropping and it was starting to feel almost fall-like; we had been opening up our windows at night to feel cool breezes while we slept.  It sure is different down here. It's about 90 degrees and so humid that it feels like you're breathing through a wet towel.  I can't imagine wanting to open a window, and I've never been more thankful for air conditioning.  Yikes!

But it's so good to be home!!  We've missed our own house, our own bed, our own routines, and most of all, our VA peeps--the three sons and their families who live nearby.

We had a great summer in our old hometown in NY, though.  We got there at the end of June and stayed at my husband's family home most of the time (except for the week we stayed at our Oyster Haven Vrbo house with our whole gang in early July, and another week in August when we blocked it off so that we could get some much-needed plumbing repairs done). It's easy to manage our place from there, because Oyster Haven is just a few miles down the road (and down the lake) from the Pearl homestead. Changeover days are always hard, when one set of renters is checking out by 10:00 a.m. and the next set is arriving by 4:00 p.m. on the same day.  We do have cleaners...but we often have to sort of clean up after them, if you know what I mean.  And my husband and I take all the dirty linens to the laundromat, and I make up all the beds with fresh sheets and towels while my husband cleans the grill, makes sure all the kayaks, paddle boards, and oars are accounted for, and moves the dock if the water level has gotten too low. But other than turnover days, we have a lot of free time to visit with family and enjoy the lake. We spent lots of time on our pontoon boat, any day that weather was permitting.

Most summers, my husband and I are the only steady occupants of his family's house.  All four of his sisters own houses nearby, two as their primary residences and two as vacation homes/rentals.  He has one sister a few doors down who lives there year-round, but her house burned down a little over a year ago and she had to move in while her new house is being built. Another sister lives in FL but also owns a home a few doors down, and for many years it has been mostly a Vrbo rental.  Like us, she blocks it off sometimes for personal use, but she and her husband usually stay at the Pearl family's house when they're visiting. However--her husband recently took a job in the area and they are planning to live there almost year-round now, and to stop renting their home and live in it themselves; but they have renters booked until October, so they, too, had to move into the old homestead this summer.  That means there were three couples sharing the house this year!  (With various and sundry other Pearl relatives popping in for short stays now and then.)  That could have been stressful, but honestly it all went so smoothly and we really enjoyed lots of time together, sharing meals and laughter around the kitchen table.  It helped that each couple had their own full bathroom (in order to make this possible, my husband and I did a minor renovation of the dilapidated basement bathroom, installing a new toilet and vanity and giving it a coat of fresh paint, and that became "our" bathroom), and we also each each had a fridge of our own.  (There are four fridges in that house: one in the kitchen, one in the garage, and two in the basement.  Until this summer, I would have said that having four in one house is overkill; but trust me, all of those fridges were full.)

The night before my husband and I left to head back to VA, we housemates (or "roomies," as we often called each other) decided to take a selfie to commemorate what we are calling "The Summer of Us."

If you must share a house, you couldn't find better people to do that with than these.  

Although I'm glad to be "back where we belong" (to quote one of my sweet little VA granddaughters, who thinks our summers up north are way too long), I'll miss watching the glorious sunrises over the lake as I sip my morning coffee.

The view from the deck of Oyster Haven.

The view from the deck of my husband's childhood home.

The grandkids here are all back in school, and everyone is very busy.  But we're excited to get back to our usual schedule of Sunday brunches and special dinners with the families of sons #2,  #3, and #4, and maybe catching some youth soccer and football games, too.  But even on those days when we can't see any of our peeps, even when it's just my husband and me in our cozy little house down here, going to daily Mass together and eating our simple meals for two, life is good.  So, so good.  It's funny, there are so many times that I'll make some comment and he'll say, "I was just going to say that!"  Or he'll ask a question, and I'll say, "I was just going to ask that myself!"  We are so often thinking about the same thing at the exact same moment. He likes to joke that we have the same brain. Maybe that's what happens when you become best friends and start dating at 15, and you've been married for going-on-46 years--and when you're still each other's favorite person to spend time with and you've talked about everything under the sun.  We like to quote that line from Disney's Frozen: "We finish each other's...sandwiches!"

Yesterday, I was on Substack and someone had shared this poem by Wendell Berry (I think he died recently?); he is the author of the wonderful novel Hannah Coulter, which I absolutely loved.

  

Oh my goodness!  "And when they speak at last it is to say what each one knows the other knows. They have one mind between them, now"... wow!  I think this poem is about my husband and me.  (I'm sure thousands of couples will read it and think so, too.  But really, gang. This is us.)

As far at that whole not knowing "which one goes first through the dark doorway...and which sits on a while alone"...well, I'd just as soon not think about that right now.  As Scarlett O'Hara would say, "I'll think about that tomorrow!"

And for now, I'll bid you goodnight, dear readers.

50th High School Reunion

My husband and I spent last Friday and Saturday nights in our old upstate NY hometown celebrating our 50th reunion with our high school classmates.  We went to a small co-ed Catholic high school that had about 300 students.  (It closed years ago and merged with the once-thriving all-boys Catholic high school across town, and enrollment at this new establishment is so much tinier than either of those schools from our day, sadly.)  We were a class of 80; we heard that there were 46 in attendance at Friday's event and 50 at Saturday's. That includes a number of spouses who didn't go to school with us, but not that many, actually (maybe 10?).  So it was a great turn-out. We have only lost two classmates in all these years, and we did raise a glass to toast them on Saturday night. They were missed!

On Friday night, we met at the lake house of a wonderful girl who was always one of the smartest and nicest in the class.  She and her husband live in NC, but they own a Vrbo rental up in NY like we do. In fact, it's just a bit down the road from our Oyster Haven house.  It was so much fun to just hang out with everyone in her lovely home and back yard--with glorious Lake Champlain as a backdrop--reminiscing and catching up. You would think we'd all seen each other just the other day--it was like picking up right where we left off after graduation (with a lot more wrinkles and less and/or graying hair!).  There were margaritas on tap, and appetizers, and pizzas from the downtown Italian restaurant owned by the family of one of our classmates, where we used to go after Friday night football games. The party was officially from 4:00-7:00, but my husband and I weren’t on our way home until about 9:00. A great time was had by all.

We had such a nice class; I think it was rather extraordinary, honestly.  You know how some classes just get along? (I mean, there were different groups of good friends, but no one excluded anyone else from any group and there was none of that "mean girl" stuff or extreme cliquey-ness.)  Teachers liked us, because we weren't troublemakers.  One of our teachers came to the party on Friday.  She was a sophomore homeroom teacher and taught biology, and we were the very first class she had after she got her degree.  She was only about eight years older than we were, and although she was no-nonsense and expected good behavior in her class, she was fun and we could always make her laugh.

Case in point: when we went to take a group picture Friday night, our crazy friend picked her up.  She's such a good sport--look at the way she's laughing! (But I did put that star there because I'm not sure she'd want her hiked-up dress on the Internet!)

Saturday night there were cocktails and a buffet dinner at my sister-in-law's brewery/restaurant.  The people who'd been in charge of organizing this reunion really went above and beyond with the set-up and decorations. Everything looked amazing.  And there were so many nostalgia-inducing items on display, all kinds of memorabilia from our high school days.  I was tickled to see that they'd used the artwork I did for the cover of our senior yearbook to decorate wine bottles donated by a guy in our class, boxes of chocolate truffles donated by a gal in our class, and the top of the sheet cake. (I was accused of depicting my boyfriend and myself when I drew that yearbook cover; and while I don't think I MEANT to do that, consciously...I believe that might be what I did!) 

I wore a dress I've had for a while that I just love, because it's so loose and flowy and comfy, and the print is so pretty...and it must be a popular style, because three of us at the party were dressed almost identically.  LOL!

Another teacher of ours (our English teacher, who was also quite young when she taught our class) was there to celebrate with us that night. The grandson and son-in-law of our late classmate DJ'd the party, and they played some of the oldies-but-goodies from our era. There was even some dancing.  It really was just so much fun, and I'll never forget it.   I'm so grateful to have been able to grow up with this amazing group of people and so happy that my husband and I were able to be there to celebrate the 50th anniversary of our graduation from a high school that will always hold a special place in our hearts.  We were the lucky ones, I tell you.  The seventies were actually a pretty sweet time to be a teenager. Things seemed so much simpler then.  We spent our days together at school, but we mostly left it all behind when we went home to our families.  No Facebook.  No social media posting.  No constant texts and phone calls.  (Well, full disclosure: there were frequent too-long phone calls with my high school sweetheart, whispering in corners with the landline phone cord stretched as far as it could go...ha ha, those were the days...)

I only have a few regrets about the reunion.  I wish I'd asked more questions about what different folks were up to. Afterward, I thought of all the missed opportunities for finding out about what's been going on in people's lives.  It's not that I didn't have some nice conversations, I did; but I wish I'd talked more. I've never been the best at the spoken word (give me a pen and paper--or a keyboard—and I do much better). I usually think of things I should have said hours after a conversation ends.  

I also wish everyone could have been there.  We were missing some of our classmates dearly.  One of them, our prom king who is always in the mix when anything is being planned for our class, lost his father shortly beforehand and obviously couldn't be there.  That left a bit of a hole. 

But God willing, there will be more reunions!  In general, the people I went to high school with are looking pretty fit and healthy.  (68 is the new 48! That's my story, and I'm sticking to it!)  We've all changed physically in the 50 years since our graduation, because how could we not?  But it's amazing how in some ways everyone seems just the same...as if we were back in those good old days, young, with our whole lives ahead of us.  I love how much these people whose lives are forever intertwined with mine still seem to look and speak and act just like those kids I knew long ago, when I was about the age of my oldest granddaughters. (Incredibly, those granddaughters are the very age their Papa and I were when we started dating!)

I’m not surprised that our reunion was such a success. That’s our class for you.

I think I'll end this with a ChatGPT version of our group picture that someone made and posted on Facebook.  (I'm not on there anymore, and I took almost no pictures, which is so unlike me.  So I've been relying on my sister to scope out our class FB page for photos and send them on to me.)

If only my real hair could ever look as good as it does in this picture!

Lookin' good, gang.  God bless the Class of 1976!

Summer 2026! (Part 2)

I got some lovely comments on my last post (my birthday post!), and I finally got around to replying to them today. I love my readers.  I've always been the kind of person who would rather have a few good, true friends than a legion of acquaintances with whom I socialize.  This has carried over to my blogging life: I don't have a legion of readers, but the ones who do stop by are so kind and sweet and loyal.

If you come here often, you might have seen that back in late July I did a Part 1 post about our summer goings-on.  I've been meaning to add to it, and especially to post some more pictures of our week with our kids and grandkids at our Oyster Haven Vrbo lake house, but time has gotten away from me.  My husband and I have been staying at his childhood home, just down the road from Oyster Haven, sharing the house with a number of his siblings.  Two of his sisters and their husbands are also living at the old homestead for the summer, and we have all been getting along swimmingly.  (Sometimes, other siblings also come to stay for short stretches, and nieces and nephews as well.)   It helps that there are 4 refrigerators: one in the kitchen, one in the garage, and two in the basement.  Each couple has claimed one as their own, and this keeps things from getting too complicated when it comes to meals.  Now and then, one of us will cook dinner for the group; but often, each couple is doing their own thing food-wise. And it's all working out beautifully.

On my birthday, one of my husband's younger sisters and her husband made a delicious steak dinner, which we enjoyed with 16 other members of the extended Pearl family who were in town at that time.  So it was a real party.

My husband and I have been spending a lot of time together on the boat.  Most days when the lake is calm enough, that's where we say our Rosaries, Divine Mercy Chaplets, and novena prayers.

 

A couple of days ago, we went out for about 3 and 1/2 hours.  We did our prayers, read our books, talked and lazed in the sun, and then we headed over to a bar/restaurant called "Flip Flops on the Dock," where you can park your boat for free and walk up to the lakefront restaurant to eat.  It was so much fun, such a perfect day!  We each got a cocktail before dinner, because it felt like a celebration.  (Getting old is not a joke, says this newly-minted 68-year-old; but there are some aspects of life in these "golden years," when you have grown kids and a retired husband, that are absolutely wonderful!  Especially when he's someone with whom you love to hang out.  And I do.)

Okay, now for the photo dump from our Oyster Haven week in early July.  (I have lots more pictures, but don't want to share too many with my grandkids' faces in them--especially the children of one of our sons who is not on social media and doesn't want them on it either, which I totally understand and respect.)

Magnet tiles were the craze with the younger set this summer.

The kids played in the lake and on the beach during most of the daytime hours.  But after dark, there were nightly raucous games of Texas Hold 'Em at the kitchen table.  Our grandkids are all getting pretty good at playing cards and keeping their poker faces.

People are always asking how we do meals for 35 during our vacation week together.  It works out surprisingly well (but it sometimes looks a bit like we're feeding an army--a starving one).  I used to cook all of the dinners, but I'm accepting more help these days.  Breakfast and lunch are pretty much handled by the parents of the different families, and they feed their own kids what they like and are used to.  In the old days, I tried to get up and make breakfast casseroles and bacon for the whole gang, or pancakes; but it's just hard, with different wake-up times, dietary needs, food allergies, etc. And the same goes for lunch.  So we let our kids take care of those meals.  I mean, we provide all kinds of staples, like butter, eggs, milk, cheese, bread, condiments, coffee, sodas, waters, adult beverages, etc.  But the kids end up doing a lot of shopping of their own, too.  Both of the fridges were packed to the gills by the end of our week!  

For the dinners this year, the couples each took a night to host.  We had a steak night, a pizza night, a chicken Alfredo night, a taco night, a roasted pork loin night.  And then for the 4th of July, we had a traditional hot dogs and hamburgers cookout.  Somehow, it all works, it really does.  But it's a bit cray-cray!

And we use paper plates and bowls and plastic forks and spoons.  I can't allow myself to feel guilty about how many garbage bags we fill with all that disposable stuff, because I can't imagine how we could keep up otherwise.

I can think of few things that make me happier than seeing my boys together.  There were lots of laughs, as always.

You might recall that last year, while wading out in the water our son #4 got poked in the thigh by a sharp branch on a log that had somehow washed into our cove, and he ended up with a serious infection.  He spent two nights in the hospital on IV antibiotics. Ultimately, he was fine.  But the accident happened early on in our vacation week, and once he was discharged, he was not allowed to go in the lake for the rest of his time there.  This 2026 week at Oyster Haven was going to be his "do-over."  Well, wouldn't you know, he ended up at Urgent Care again, with a swollen elbow. A small scratch somehow developed another infernal infection.  But this time, things were not as dire: it happened later in the week, after he'd been able to enjoy lots of water activity; it required an antibiotic, but just an oral one, not an IV; and most importantly, he did not need to be admitted to the hospital!!  He did have a much better week...but 2027, we're counting on you to be infection-free.

In spite of the elbow, he was a pretty happy camper.

I think now I'm just going to do the proverbial photo dump.  There are so many good pictures from our fantastic week together, but here are just a few.

My heart is full, looking at these images and remembering how magical our week was.  The kids love being together up here, and they stay busy from sun-up to sun-down.  What a blessing it is to have this house by the lake.  On turnover days, when my husband and I have to spend exhausting hours getting it cleaned up and ready for the next renters, I sometimes forget why it's so great to have it.  I need to keep coming back to these photos to remind myself that it's all worth it!

Really.  SO worth it.