Just Over Here Bragging about My Baby

On Monday of this week, my husband and I returned from a week-long road trip to TN to visit our youngest son, his wife, and his two adorable little daughters (aged just-turned-one and about-to-turn-three).  So of course the youngest of our five boys--our baby--is very much on my mind right now.  How I wish he lived closer to us so that we could see him and his family on a regular basis!  Saying goodbye after a visit really stabs at my poor heart.  (This of course goes for his oldest brother, too, our firstborn, who's a two-day trip away in WI; but today, at least, this post is dedicated to son #5.) I am well aware that a mother's heart can be much more violently pierced by suffering than mine has ever been, God having thus far spared me any truly heartrending tragedies; but still, it pains me to have two of our boys living so far away from us.  My husband and I cherish every minute we get to spend with them.

I adore this boy of ours.  He was born an "old soul," in ways, and spent much of his childhood wanting to catch up to his older brothers.  We had our first four boys in a span of four years and three months; then just about exactly five years after son #4 was born, our youngest joined the team.  There was a bigger gap between sons #4 and #5 than there was between #1 and #4!  And that gap must have seemed far too wide to son #5 for many years, because those older brothers were his heroes, and he wanted to follow directly in their footsteps.  He wanted to be counted as one of the "big guys."

Well, that long-awaited day did come, that's for sure. I told you that he was five years younger than his next oldest brother; well, he got married five years after that brother did.  They were both 26 years old on their wedding days.  Do you see a pattern here?

And now, like the brothers he always looked up to and admired, our baby is also a father; and like them, he has embraced this role whole-heartedly.  It was a delight to watch him interacting with his little blond angels last week, snuggling them, reading them stories, and tossing them on the bed in a game which his father used to call "Sack of Potatoes" but which in their household is known as "1-2-3!"

Our baby with his babies.

These kids, these two young parents, are in a phase of life that's challenging and difficult, trying to manage a lot of moving pieces at once.  Our son is working hard to make his freelance business a success, and his helpmate works as an accountant from home (mostly) while the girls are at a sitter's house nearby.  We were happy to be able to take care of our two darling granddaughters while Mommy and Daddy were working from Monday through Friday, and we enjoyed daily outings with them--to the park, to the Discovery Center, and to the zoo (twice!).  It was a tiring week for Papa and Grammy, but in the best possible way.  And we know how much our son and his wife appreciated having us around.

The almost-three-year-old kept randomly telling us, "I'm glad you're here."  We were glad we were there, too.  Very, very glad.

Since we've been home, I've been doing a little bit of organizing in our office.  I am a collector of photos and paperwork, a scrapbooker, an archivist of memories who has an enormous amount of trouble throwing away anything with the least bit of sentimental value.  I realize that when I die, my poor children are going to have to wade through all of my boxes, storage bins, and trunks of memorabilia, and they are going to wish I'd culled through it all while I was still here.  I get these urges to stop hanging onto the past and just start throwing things out, finally. But then I come across some of the old letters I've kept, or the emails I've printed out and put into plastic pages in three-ring binders for safekeeping...and I realize that my kids will probably be stuck with the task of doing the culling after all, because I just can't do it yet!

For instance, here is a treasured email that I received way back in 2016, from someone who worked for a Catholic publishing company. At the time, I was still a pretty regular blogger and often posted book reviews at String of Pearls. The young gal who sent it had found my name as a possible book reviewer in a random search, but then after doing some digging was amazed to realize that she'd been on a date with my youngest son, when she was a junior at St. Mary's College out in South Bend and he was a senior at Notre Dame.  The world is so much smaller than we realize!  I've made some redactions for privacy's sake, but I thought I'd share the first page of this email here today.  Partly because of the way this girl speaks about my son (it brings a tear to my eyes, all over again!); and partly because it's a testament to the fact that we all touch the lives of others in the course of an average day in ways that we might never be aware of (and therefore, imagine how many souls might be affected by our interactions over the course of an entire lifetime!).

She went on to offer the opportunity to review one of her company's titles and gave me a list of choices, etc. It was all business after that touching paragraph that involved my boy.

I will always be so grateful for the random Google search that led to this beautiful, unexpected message, one that moved me profoundly.  If this girl hadn't emailed me to request a book review, I would never have even known that she'd gone on a date with my son. I never heard anything about this date from him. (Moms of boys, you know how good they are at giving all the deets.  NOT!)  So I treasure this small peek into my son’s story.  I feel privileged to have knowledge of it--to hear that the kind and respectful way he treated this girl (whom I will never meet in this lifetime, I'm sure) on their one and only date made a huge impression on her and changed her life for the better.

And that boy who was about to graduate from Notre Dame in 2015 is now a married father of two little girls.  When they grow up, they will know what to look for in a husband, because they will have their dad as a model: "a Godly and genuine young [man]...seeking truth."

Yes, dear girl, I AM a proud mama.

I always have been, and I always will be.  

#ihavethebestboys  #itsjustthetruth  Does that sound like I’m bragging?  I suppose I am, dear readers.  

P.S.  In my last post, I showed you a little birthday gift that I was working on for my granddaughter.  I believe it was a success, if this picture is any indication. 

Until next time, God bless you and yours!