Beginning a Whole New Chapter

Life is like this amazing, never-before-read novel, with so many unexpected plot twists.  And just when you get immersed in one particular chapter of it (I'm a wife!  I'm pregnant! I'm a mommy! My firstborn can walk! Welcome to the world, son #5!  I can't believe I have a teenager!  My youngest is a college graduate!  My boys are all married men!  I'm a grandmother!  I have 16--count them, 16!--grandchildren!), that one ends and a whole new one begins.

Here's the latest plot twist in the story of my beautiful and extraordinarily blessed life: my husband has retired from his long-held job as a commercial airline pilot.  His official retirement date was September 1.

Due to the decrease in air travel caused by the pandemic, his airline was forced to make drastic changes.  The company went from being on the cusp of hiring thousands of new pilots just before the Covid-19 crisis hit to having to let thousands of their currently employed pilots go--forget about hiring any new ones.

In order to give some of the less senior pilots a chance to avoid furlough, an early retirement option was offered.  At 62, my husband is three years shy of mandatory retirement age, but he decided to take the early out.  It's like a dream come true for him, really, being able to retire ahead of schedule and spend more time with our ever-expanding family.  And with me, of course!  (This surprising turn of events, this unplanned early retirement, would have to be filed under the title "unexpected pluses of the Covid-19 pandemic.")

In typical Pearl family fashion, my husband's retirement party last weekend was a simple one held here at our house, with our four oldest boys, who live near us in VA, and their wives and children.

There were a lot of little people there to celebrate their Papa's retirement.  And there might have also been a tear-inducing video slide show set to music, put together by our second son and his wife, filled with so many beautiful images of a full and happy life that has been incredibly rich in blessings. [Sniff]

I am proud of the long and successful career my guy had with this major airline, where he was hired in early 1988 after serving eight years in the US Navy as a fighter pilot.  He spent his first few months as an engineer on the 727 before moving on to spend about a year-and-a-half as a copilot on the DC-9.  In late 1989, he began flying the 767, and he spent the bulk of his 32-year career on this aircraft.  He started flying the 767-ER internationally in 1996 and became a captain in 2006--an upgrade which he put off as long as possible during our boys' school years, because his seniority as a first officer allowed him more flexibility with his schedule (meaning more time for coaching his boys in football and lacrosse and more quality family time in general).  He thought he might finish out his career on the 767-ER, but in 2016 he transitioned and became a captain on the A330, which he continued flying internationally until his recent retirement.

With a husband flying internationally for 24 straight years, you might think that I saw much of the world right along with him.  Many pilots' wives tag along on their husbands' trips--especially the ones to popular European destinations--if there are seats available on the plane.  But I was not your typical airline pilot's wife.  Not by a long shot!

I didn't particularly care about traveling abroad (even though my husband got to visit pretty much every major city in Europe, Northern Africa, and the Middle East that a tourist would want to see), and I had a pretty intense fear of flying.  In fact, when he first got hired by the airline in 1988, I told him that I hoped he didn't think I was going to become a jet-setter, because I wanted to keep my feet securely planted on terra firma, and I wasn't going to leave my babies (we had four boys at the time) to go off galivanting around the globe.  He knew this about me from the get-go, and it never bothered him that I didn't want to travel.  In fact, after he'd been working for the airline for a while he admitted that it was a bit of a relief that I wasn't always saying "take me somewhere!" every time he got back home from a trip, tired and looking forward to a homecooked meal and sleeping in his own bed.  The last place he wanted to be when he wasn't working was in an airport, trying to get stand-by seats on a flight.  In fact, all the traveling he did over the years made him more of a homebody than ever.

We did take a few special family trips by plane: to Bermuda, to visit my husband's brother's family; to Disney World--our one and only trip to the Magic Kingdom; to South Bend, so that our three oldest could attend a lacrosse camp at Notre Dame.  My husband took one or two of his sons at a time out to Notre Dame for football weekends, while I held down the fort with the others.  And when our boys were out at Notre Dame during their college years, they were able to fly back and forth between New Hampshire and Indiana as non-revenue stand-bys, and that was a financial blessing indeed during their college years.  But generally, we didn't do a whole lot of travel by air, opting instead for road trips to visit relatives.  However, I used to tell my husband all the time that although I couldn't fly off with him AWAY from my babies, I felt sure that if they grew up and flew far away from our nest, I would be able to overcome my fears and fly TO them.  I pretty much promised him that it would be so.

Do you think I was able to keep that promise?  Did I conquer my fear of flying?

Yes, I did.  (Mostly!)

And remember what I said about chapters, about how they end and brand new ones begin?  In December of 2011, with our youngest son settled as a freshman undergrad at Notre Dame and our four older boys already college graduates and out on their own in the working world (the oldest married with twin daughters), I finally got on a plane that my husband was "driving" and accompanied him on a working trip to Nice (which included a little side trip to Monaco!). He'd been flying international trips for 15 years before I ever got around to tagging along on one; but the time was finally right.

You know what?  I'm going to end here and pick back up next time with a brief re-cap of our Nice trip (about which I wrote a number of posts a LONG time ago, in my earliest blogging days--here, here, and here, for instance..and maybe now there's no need for a re-cap?).  And then after that, perhaps I'll reminisce about some other wonderful trips that I finally got around to taking with my husband--proudly sitting in my passenger seat, thinking, "That's right, everyone!  My husband is flying this plane!"

That chapter of his life is finished now; after spending his entire adult working life--40 years!--with a cockpit for an office, it is unlikely that my favorite pilot will ever fly a plane again.  That's bittersweet...but mostly sweet.

I was almost going to use this post to announce my own retirement, from this blog...but perhaps I'll stick around for a little bit after all.  I might have another chapter or two to write before I'm done.  Au revoir, mes amis!

My Sunday Best: The Notre Dame Fan Edition

I don't seem to have time to blog as much as I'd like to anymore...and when I do blog, it's often to link up with my fellow Virginian, Rosie, to show you what I wore to Mass...so if you didn't know better, you might surmise that String of Pearls has become a fashion blog.  Which would make me a fashion blogger.

If you're finished rolling on the floor laughing (or just LOL-ing, or whatever it is you're doing), I'll continue with this "My Sunday Best" post--which is even more fun than usual because the backdrop for my fashion shoot is none other than the lovely campus of Our Lady's University, Notre Dame, in South Bend, IN.

You see, I was out there with my husband this past weekend, along with various and sundry members of the far-flung Pearl clan, to watch the Irish play the USC Trojans--and spank them, 49-14!

Saturday's game didn't start til 7:30 p.m., but preparations for the family tailgater (a long-standing Pearl tradition) over at the stadium parking lot were underway about 12 hours before that.

For the tailgater, I wore jeans along with a Notre Dame sweater vest that I snagged on eBay awhile back, used but in good condition, for a fraction of its original cost.  It was unseasonably warm yesterday, sunny and in the 70's, but that's what I'd packed so that's what I wore.  I could have gotten away with short sleeves, that's how nice it was.  In October.  In South Bend.  Go figure!

I love the embroidery on this uber-rah rah sweater vest.

I used to think these sorts of sweaters were a bit much, geared toward grandmotherly types.  In fact, I had a mild case of buyer's remorse after I'd ordered and received this vest, and I never seemed to be in the mood to wear it.

But now I'm a grandmother.  (Many times over!)  So it's perfect for me.

My husband and I took a break from the festivities at about 3:15 and started walking over to the Sacred Heart Basilica, in order to get there in time to get a seat for the crowded pre-game 4:00 anticipated Mass.  I normally like to wear a skirt or dress for Mass, along with a lace mantilla on my head; but as you can see, my Sunday Best ensemble yesterday was a lot more casual than normal for me.

These are the tightest-fitting jeans I own.  They are not absolutely skin-tight, but are as close to "skinny jeans" as I've ever come.  They're Riders brand, bought on the clearance rack at Walmart for a mere $5, and they've been mostly sitting in the bottom of my drawer for the past few years.  I've got about six pairs of looser-fitting jeans that have boot-cut legs, and I'm more comfortable in that style.  But it was a day of taking fashion risks.

It was also a day of having my picture taken with photo-bombing strangers, outside the Basilica, in the shadow of the Golden Dome.

After Mass, we had a little time to kill before we could enter the swanky club section, located way up high above the crowd, with a magnificent view of not only the field, but also the Basilica, the Golden Dome, and the "Touchdown Jesus" mosaic on the Hesburgh Library.   Yes, up there in the first-class section with all the beautiful people: that's where we were going to watch the game with my brother- and sister-in-law.  (The fact that our family now has access to these seats is a long story for another post; but suffice it to say, we are all a bit giddy about it.)

So with about another half-hour before we could enter heaven the club, my husband and I went around to the back of the Basilica and found a big rock under a tree, just off to the side of the Grotto, where we sat and said a Rosary together.

Here's another fashion risk I took yesterday: see those blue-and-gold, perfect-for-a-Notre-Dame-football-game leather flats (a bargain find from the TJ Maxx clearance aisle)?  When the day started out, I was wearing them with nude knee-high stockings (like grandmothers tend to do), for several reasons; they were new and never-worn, for one thing, and I didn't want to risk getting blisters; and as a rule I don't like to wear closed-toe shoes without socks or stockings anyway, because I worry my feet will sweat and make my shoes get stinky.  However,  I know wearing stockings or panty hose has become pretty much obsolete with the well-heeled crowd these days; so I decided to live on the edge and ditch my hose (literally--I threw them in a trash can).  I believed that these deceptively comfy shoes wouldn't give me any trouble.

How wrong I was!  By the end of last night, walking had become brutally painful, and you should see the blisters I had on my pinky toes when I woke up Sunday morning.  Ouch!  I shall never go without socks or stockings--or at least peds--ever again.

But what an incredible day and night!  The tailgater get-together with so many wonderful relatives and friends!  The exceedingly comfortable club seats!  The endless food and drink in the fancy club!  The fabulous view!  THE BIG WIN!!  It was about as great as it can get.

Aside from the Basilica, the Dome, and the Library, from where we sat we also had a great view of the new Jumbotron screen.  And what moved and touched us immeasurably was the way it was used as a vehicle to spread the Faith.  Before each game the ND team kneels together in the locker room and says the "Our Father."  They showed this sweet tradition on the Jumbotron; and as the sports fans watched the team praying, many voices in the crowd could be heard joining in to pray the Lord's Prayer.  At one point there was also a priest giving a public service announcement about Mass times and inviting visitors to attend.  In a world that tries to squelch all talk of God and religion, it was refreshing and encouraging to witness the way Notre Dame is evangelizing on game day.  I know that in recent years many faithful Catholics have been very disappointed by some of the decisions the administration has made; but be assured, the Faith is still alive and well in South Bend.  And the fans who fill the football stadium on game day appear to be on board with that.

They are also on board with standing and singing along during the National Anthem, loudly and proudly, with their hands over their hearts.

God, Country, Notre Dame.  Yes, indeed.

Now head on over to Rosie's for more Sunday fashion talk!

My Sunday Best: The Notre Dame Edition

I have a lot of resolutions for 2017: to eat better; to exercise more; to pray more and to strive more intentionally for sainthood, which is of course the whole purpose of this life on earth (and to remember in particular to pray to the patron saint chosen for me this year from the Saints Name Generator, St. Vitus--but more about that later); to write more (in particular, speaking of striving for sainthood, to write the amazing story of my dad's brave, heroic, and holy last weeks and hours on earth before his death on Nov. 25)...and the list goes on and on.  But included in the resolution to write more is the plan to blog more here at String of Pearls, as this is an activity that has brought me more joys and blessings (not to mention new Internet friends) than I ever could have imagined when I started out almost six years ago.

So!

Here I am again, not bleeding onto the page with the story of my father's beautiful death (I just can't do it yet, and I don't know why), but just posting something lighthearted and fun.  And what could be more fun than a "My Sunday Best" post by yours truly?  (I can hear some of you saying, "Um...I can think of a few things."  But here I go anyway.)

My husband and I flew out to South Bend this past Friday, leaving NH at oh-dark-thirty and arriving before lunchtime.  Two of his three brothers met us out there later that day, and together we worked to finish setting up the house my husband and his seven siblings bought recently (as an investment property, to rent out for Notre Dame football weekends and other university events).  So we landed at the South Bend airport and rented a Budget moving truck, and our first stop was Big Lots, where we picked up a queen-sized bed, an enormous leather sectional, a rug, and various and sundry other items that we couldn't have hauled away ourselves if we'd just rented a car.

So it was just me being "one of the guys," which is sort of my wheelhouse after raising five sons.  We spent the rest of the weekend moving furniture, hanging pictures, mounting television sets on walls, and shopping for different household necessities.  (The house has already been rented from Feb. 1 until the end of the summer, from a construction company working on a project in the area.  So right from the get-go, it's already proven to be a good investment!)  Then at quitting time, the four of us stayed up til all hours, talking and laughing.  It was a very productive, but also a very enjoyable, weekend.

One of the best things about being out at Notre Dame on a Sunday is having the opportunity to go to Mass at the Sacred Heart Basilica on campus.  It is one of the most breathtaking churches I have ever seen (and now that I've been to Europe a few times, tagging along with my husband on his working trips, I've seen some indescribably beautiful churches).

I wasn't wearing anything particularly wowser for Mass.  It was my usual uniform of black skirt, black tights, black leather flats.  In the winter I most often pair my black skirt with a sweater of some kind, and yesterday I had on a well-loved and much-worn royal blue cotton twinset.  But never mind that; instead, I thought I'd show you the jacket I was wearing, because it was a killer find at our local Goodwill (where I went shopping after Christmas with my similarly frugal daughter-in-law, Regina).  The brown quilted jacket is by Lands End, and on careful inspection it was obvious that it had never been worn. And despite the label and the pristine condition, I got it for a mere $6.00!  Score!  (The brown lace mantilla is one I made for myself.  It's not nearly as pretty as the ones they sell at Veils by Lily and similar retailers, but it's not too bad.)

My husband--who is a fashion photographer extraordinaire--snapped this picture while I was standing in front of the "God, Country, Notre Dame" door at the Basilica.  This is a favorite spot of ours, as it has been the backdrop for several military commissioning ceremonies in the Pearl family over the years.  Notre Dame has always supported our armed forces, and has ROTC programs for every service branch. I love that about ND.

And when you're at the Basilica, as a bonus you have a nice view of its next-door neighbor with that iconic golden dome on top, and the statue of the Blessed Mother perched up there, watching over all.  (Hi, Mary!)

Needless to say, I had a wonderful weekend, and a wonderful Mass experience at Our Lady's university.

But now I'm back home.  And now I need to head on over to Rosie's and see the Sunday Best outfits worn by some of the other bloggers I've come to know and love.  You might want to check them out, too.  (And you might want to check out the Saints Name Generator while you're at it, to see which heavenly friend has been chosen just for you in 2017.)

Seeing Mary Everywhere I Look

These days, I'm seeing Mary everywhere I look.  Not just in churches, although Her presence there is surely evident.  In the Catholic churches here in Germany, it is patently obvious that Our Blessed Mother is loved and revered.

But She's not just in church.  No, She sometimes pops up in fresco form on the stucco exterior of a random building, when you're strolling through town and least expecting to see Her.

(Sorry about the poor quality of that image, taken with my Stone Age-era iPhone 4.  This painting is so much prettier in person.)

Mary stands in alcoves on the corners of commercial buildings in downtown areas.  I thought this image of Our Lady and the Child Jesus was especially beautiful.

In Munich (where my husband, my youngest son, and I went yesterday to do a little sightseeing), She sits atop a pedestal, high in the sky, holding Her Beloved Son.  This Mary made of gold reminds me of another golden statue of Our Lady that is near and dear to my heart: the iconic beauty that stands atop the Golden Dome at Notre Dame, the university named for Her.

But my favorite image of the Blessed Mother, out of all the images I've seen during this recent sojourn in Deutschland, is one that can be viewed from my son's apartment window.  I like to think that She and Her holy spouse St. Joseph, along with the Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, are there to keep watch over him while he's living so far away from home.

One of the things I've loved most about being here in Germany is seeing the spectacular architecture that has withstood the centuries and gives evidence of Europe's long, rich history; and I love even more that all the religious artwork on display shows how intricately woven Catholicism is with that history.  Indeed, when I walk around the streets of this 500-year-old German city, I am constantly reminded that Europe was once known as "Christendom."  It makes me wish that back at home, there were as many beautiful tributes to Our Blessed Mother, Our Dear Lord, and all the saints in Heaven to be found outside the walls of our Catholic churches--which themselves have been stripped of much of their ornate beauty in the past four decades.  I'll just have to soak up all this glorious artwork as long as I can, and enjoy the way it makes my soul soar...

Hail Holy Queen enthroned above, O Maria!

O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to Thee.

Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us now, and at the hour of our death.

Have a great week, dear readers!

Boston, Here We Come!

Tonight, Notre Dame plays Boston College at Fenway Park in Boston, a city with deep Irish-American roots.  It's actually an away game for BC and a home game for the Irish, their "Shamrock Series" game for 2015. (Each year since the Shamrock Series began in 2009, ND has had one home-away-from-home game per season on its schedule.)

So tonight, my husband and I are going to be at Fenway, cheering on our boys in blue green and gold.  They're going to be wearing new uniforms designed specially for the occasion.

Snaz-zy!

You know what else looks pretty ding-dang snazzy?  Fenway Park, home of the Red Sox, with a football field where the baseball diamond should be.

That's Fenway's famous "Green Monster" on the left.

I am so excited for this game.  We put in for tickets ages ago, knowing that it might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see Notre Dame play a football game at this historic ball field--and lucky for us, it's only about an hour's drive from our home.

Right after the game ends (very late tonight!), we're heading up to our lake house in NY to meet up with our oldest son and his family (he's the dad of four daughters, four and under) to spend Thanksgiving week together.

Notre Dame at Fenway...grandchildren at Oyster Haven...it just doesn't get any better than this.

Go Irish!

Football with Family

Testing, testing...1,2,3...
Is this thing on?  Hello?

This is my blog, right?  I mean, I used to know how it all worked, but I've gotten just a lee-tle bit rusty as of late...

So I thought I'd check back in and let you know that yes, I am still blogging.  I've got to stop using the fact that I live most of my life on the road as an excuse to neglect my writing.  Writing is so much fun.  It's sort of my favorite.

Anyway, I think I'll use some cell phone pictures to show you what I've been up to lately.  Here's a hint: back-to-back Notre Dame football games were involved.

The first one was out in South Bend on Sept. 5, where our beloved Irish beat Texas handily.  ("We're awesome," we thought.  "Maybe this is our year!")  And better yet, along with a whole slew of Pearls of all ages, I got to see my "bookend boys": our oldest son was there, along with his wife and four young daughters, for the epic Pearl tailgater before the game, but they headed back to their home in MI afterward since it was going to be a late one; and our baby was there, too--he got four days of leave and flew in from OK (it was the first time we'd seen him since he left home about two weeks after his ND graduation).

Here are some pictures from the ND v. Texas weekend.

The twins wore their Notre Dame cheerleading outfits.  (Wonder where they got those?)

Pearl brothers.

He'll always be my baby!

The second game was this past weekend, on Sept. 12 down at UVA in Charlottesville.  We won again, but just by the skin of our teeth.  ("Hmm...we made Texas look bad last week," we thought. "But maybe they just are, in fact, bad.")  We were so outplayed by the Cavaliers for most of the game, we probably shouldn't have won--but who am I to quibble?  Notre Dame's starting quarterback Malik Zaire broke his ankle and is now out for the season, sadly; and the back-up QB, DeShone Kiser, had a rough start--but then the kid pulled a long touchdown pass out of his hat, at almost the last second, to win the game for the Irish.  It was ugly, but it was a W.

The game was lots of fun, and so was the pre-game tailgater; and several of my husband's siblings made it to that one, too.  But the best thing of all was getting to spend time with our middle three boys, their wives, and our grandson G-Man.

I love it when in the span of two consecutive weekends, we get to see all five of our offspring and their significant others.  That, sports fans, is a win-win in my book!

Now here are some pictures from the ND v. UVA weekend.

Pearl brothers (the next generation).

My guys are all wearing matching ND sneakers (and you can get your own pair,

with your favorite NCAA team, at Row One).

With 3 of my 4 sweet daughters-in-law.

Win or lose, we're fans for life.  Go Irish!

Keep, Donate...or Toss?

I have a hard time letting go of things that remind me of my boys--things that remind me of the days when our big old Colonial-style house was a lot fuller than it is now.  For many years, this house was filled with five growing boys, whose always loud (and after a while, very deep!), voices rang out in every room.  Those were happy days, filled with laughter and busy-ness and purpose, and anything that reminds me of them probably won't find its way into the "donate" pile anytime soon.

Those five sons eventually did the once unimaginable--of course they did: they grew up, they moved out, they started grown-up lives of their own.  And now, two (soon to be three) of the five are experiencing the joy of having their own homes starting to fill up with their own children.

So I should be ready to part with some of the stuff 'n things and this 'n that and bric-a-brac we accumulated over the 25-plus years we've lived in this house, right?  You know, some of the clutter that my sons wouldn't even miss if I boxed it up and carted it off to Goodwill?

You would think so, wouldn't you?

We are in the midst of renovating our downstairs half-bath/laundry room; and between that project and the even bigger project of getting ready to turn a house on the lake in Upstate NY into a VRBO vacation rental, I'm suddenly in the mood to cull through all the junk and get my house in order.  (When you live in one house for a quarter of a century, and you raise five sons there, it's amazing the stuff you'll accumulate!)

When we took out the old vanity in the downstairs bathroom, I realized that its drawers were holding a lot of useless items that we could toss.  So that got me thinking: what's hiding in the drawers of the vanity in the upstairs bathroom that our boys used to share?  I thought I remembered finally throwing away years-old acne creams a few years back (wow, was that long overdue!).  But look what I wasn't able to part with when I got rid of the ancient Clearasil containers.

Seeing the items in this drawer made me say, "Awwww...."

Because...look at these cute things.

On the left, a L'il Shaver shaving kit (we still have a pair of them).  When I look at this, I remember our two oldest sons playing at being men: brushing soap lather onto their smooth little cheeks and pretending to shave alongside their dad, using their red plastic razors.  Not gonna toss them.  Not yet.  Can't do it.

And the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cup on the right?  One Christmas many, many moons ago, all four of our oldest sons got TMNT toiletry kits from Santa, each with a toothbrush, a comb, a brush, a cup, a packet of tissues, and a little bag to carry it all in.  I put their names on all the items in their kits with a Sharpie marker, and they used these cups for years.  (The combs and brushes--not so much.)  These TMNT cups used to litter the vanity top in their bathroom.  Not gonna toss them either.  Nope.

Speaking of those "heroes on a half-shell"...even though we're trying to update our house a little, I'm not gonna remove this tacky Turtles switch plate in the upstairs hallway.  It's been there, under that precious picture of our four oldest doing their best TMNT impressions (Turtle power!), since just after we moved in, and I simply can't bring myself to say good-bye to it.  Not yet.  I don't care if Chip and Joanna Gaines or the Property Brothers would chide me for keeping it!  I don't!

But back to the drawers of that vanity.

How about this ridiculous item?

I tried to add a caption there, but it's so small you can hardly read it.  So I'll tell you what's going on here. That's a Spongebob Squarepants bath sponge.  My sons range in age from 22 to 31; how long do you think it's been since it saw any use?

Speaking of things that haven't seen any use in this decade (or the last one, either), here are a few more choice offerings.

Those captions aren't really working.  So I'll tell you that what we have here near the bag of cotton balls are a couple of syringes for giving medicine to infants, along with a rectal thermometer for taking an infant's temperature.  Every time I look at them they make me think, "I was a mommy with babies once!"  So no, I have not been able to toss them yet!

Sigh...

After perusing the drawers in the bathroom, I brought a load of stuff up to the attic (more stuff that we probably don't need, but that I can't part with just yet), and I cracked open a few of the large plastic bins up there.

One is filled with clothes; newborn-, toddler-, and little boy-sized.

Awww...son #3 wore that red dinosaur sweater on top of the pile for a family portrait we had taken at Sears, when he was just a little tyke.  And now he has a baby son of his own named G-Man, who tends to sport a lot of dino-themed clothing.

I'll go through that bin some other time.

Another bin is filled with dinosaur toys.

Some of these dinos were your daddy's, G-Man, and Grammy's saving them for you!

I also have lots and lots of used football and lacrosse gear squirreled away up in that attic: football knee pads, thigh pads, girdles, and practice pants and jerseys; lacrosse gloves, arm guards, shoulder pads, and helmets.

I actually asked my boys not too long ago if I should keep all of that for any reason, and they said no.  But I hesitated to give it the heave-ho, because my goodness, so many years of our lives were tied up with watching them play these two sports.  Then son #2's wife, Ginger, said she thought it would be neat if they had a son someday and could show him his dad's old sports equipment.  Boom!  Decision made: the football and lacrosse gear stays!  For the time being, anyway.

It's just STUFF, it shouldn't mean anything.  But it's all so intricately tied up with my family's history that I get misty-eyed just looking at it.

Because it all goes so fast, doesn't it?  If you're a parent, you know what I'm talking about.  Your children grow up in the blink of an eye.  And suddenly, your youngest is a college grad who's out on his own and hardly needs his dear old mom anymore...

Taken this weekend at Notre Dame, where my husband and I met up

with our baby and a whole bunch of other Pearls for the football opener.

Shucks, you know what?  No matter how big your sons get, or how long it's been since they pretended to shave with a L'il Shaver playset (because now they have honest-to-goodness man stubble on their faces)...they'll always need their mom.  I know they will.

And the next time that tall, handsome, grown-up guy in the picture above comes home, his Spongebob Squarepants bath sponge will be there.  Just in case he wants it.  For now, anyway.