Welcome, Little Pearl #23!

The last time I was here, in mid-January, we were a few days away from having our oldest son and his family (including seven of our grandchildren!) arrive from Wisconsin to spend the last week of the month visiting us (and also the three brothers’ families who live near us in VA).  Grandchild #23, our youngest son’s second daughter, was due on Feb. 8, and we were planning to head to Nashville a few days ahead of that due date to be in place to help out and take care of their almost-2-year-old.  The timing between our firstborn's visit and our trip to our baby's house was going to be close, but it looked like it was going to work out perfectly.

We had a great week with our Wisconsin Pearls, including a family get-together with four of our boys and their wives and children, minus one D-I-L and two wee grandsons.  (We resorted to Chipotle catering, because Grammy was feeling a bit daunted by the prospect of cooking for almost 30 people, while simultaneously having nine people staying with us for the week!) 

Son #1 isn't a fan of showing his kids' faces on the Internet (which I totally respect), so those are the only two photos I'll share from that visit.  But I think they tell the story of how much these cousins enjoy each other's company--and how they can make fun happen wherever they happen to be, even in our relatively small house with its relatively small yard.

Our oldest son and his gang left VA to head back home on Jan. 29, and little #23's older sister had been born about a week past her due date, via induction, so we figured no problem—it seemed safe to believe that she was probably at least a week away from making her appearance.  The timing was going to be about as close to ideal as it could be.  We would get all the beds remade and the house cleaned up, pack our bags, and be ready to start our road trip to son #5’s house within a few days’ time, arriving well before baby.  Our plans were set.

But if you want to hear God laugh, tell Him your plans!  I woke up at 6:30 a.m. on the 30th to this text from our son (which he’d sent at about 2:30): 

“Looks like baby’s coming early.  _______ is about 5.5 cm dilated.”

Hoo boy!  We had already committed to watching son #3's youngest child that afternoon (thinking no way would our presence be needed in Nashville quite this soon!) while he and his wife were with one of their girls, who was scheduled to have an oral surgery procedure.  I texted son #5 to see if we should try to find a replacement to watch his little nephew so we could hit the road ASAP, but he assured us that his firstborn daughter was being well cared for by a beloved and trusted friend, so we could keep our plans in place and wait until the next day to make the drive.

Our sweet new granddaughter was born in the morning on Jan. 30, and bright and early on the 31st we were Nashville -bound, anxious to meet this latest gem to be added to our long and ever-lengthening string of Pearls! 

We have already been with this darling little family of four for over a week now, and we plan to stay for the baby’s Baptism after anticipated Mass on the 15th.  The next morning, we’ll head back home to VA.

It has been grand, and we are honored to have been asked to be the first on the scene to help out.

If you’re reading this, and your children are still little and gathered about you all the time in your house and sleeping safely under your roof every night, and you can’t imagine how in the world you’re going to fill your days when they’re all grown and gone…I’m here to tell you that when you make it to your "empty"-nesting years, you might find that you are even busier than you’ve ever been before.  I know that those child-rearing years of ours were incredibly busy and full, but truly, there is never a dull moment these days.  It’s different as a grandparent, of course; but it seems like it’s just about as physically and emotionally tiring as it ever was.  

And thank God for that! I can’t imagine how we got so lucky.

Okay, now for the requisite photo dump!

Our newest grandchild is a living doll, and we are so enjoying getting to know her.  Her big sister has adjusted remarkably well to having to share the limelight with a needy baby sibling.  And rest assured, she's still getting plenty of attention.

We FaceTimed with our middle son and his kids last night, and his 5-year-old daughter complained that she didn't like it when we were "out of town" (her words).  I guess she likes it much better when we're just a few towns away from her in VA and close enough to see her often, as we usually are.  How sweet it that?It's nice to be missed!  And we miss everyone back there, too.  But at the same time, it will be exceedingly difficult to say goodbye when we leave here on Sunday.  

The older I get, the more I realize that your heart can be in many places all at once.  And sometimes dividing it up so that it can do that is unspeakably painful. However, as that wise philosopher, Winnie the Pooh, said to his good friend Piglet: 

"How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."

[Sniff]  That's enough for today, I think.  That'll do, Pig. That'll do. 

[Sigh] Yes, I've just jumped from using a WTP quote to a line from the movie "Babe."  Time to sign off before this post goes in all kinds of unplanned directions. Until next time, dear readers...

A Mother's Heart

I found this not-quite-ready post in my archives, and I decided to finish and publish it today.  Because I'm on a roll here!  I go silent for three months...and then, boom! Back-to-back posts.  You never know what you're going to get at this blog!

I have mentioned this before here at the blog, but I just love the writings of Elizabeth Foss.  She is a homeschooling mother of nine, a grandmother, a blogger, an author, and a well-known Catholic "influencer."  Just like I did, she married her high school boyfriend, so I feel a special kinship with her. She's about ten years younger than I and still has a couple of high-school aged daughters.  But otherwise, she's very much in the same phase of life that I am: her children are grown and gone (or in her case, all but the youngest two are); and therefore, like all of us women with grown children, her heart is repeatedly being torn, scarring over, and then tearing again.  Not to put too dramatic a spin on it...but it does happen. Luckily, the heart it a tough organ.  Especially when it’s a mother's heart.

Elizabeth Foss lived in VA for many years, until a relatively recent move to CT.  She still has a column in our diocesan newspaper here in VA, The Catholic Herald.  Hers is the one article that I never fail to read when we get this paper in the mail.  Foss’s piece from the June 13-16 edition was titled "Note to a grad's mom,"* and boy-oh-boy, could I relate.   It's been a while since our last Pearl family graduation (our youngest son was University of Notre Dame, Class of 2015), but the memories of those bittersweet endings are still fresh.

Yes, graduations are not just endings but also beginnings (it's an overused cliche because it's true).  And there is so much to be joyful about, watching your children spread their wings and fly.  But they fly away from you, you see.  And a mother's heart takes a beating when that happens.  It still beats, sure; but oh, it aches.  The pain can be excruciating at times.

That Catholic Herald column of Foss’s that I mentioned above was inspired by witnessing a mom crying on her husband's shoulder after their child's high school graduation ceremony and party.  Foss writes, "The words of encouragement out there for moms of graduates all focus on a job well done and they pivot to look to the opportunities to pursue their own dreams in an empty-nest future.  And of course, those should be addressed.  Raising a child is no small thing. You deserve a hearty pat on the back.  But most moms don't feel like doing a jig.  Instead, they feel like they ran out of time.  There is a nagging feeling that we have so much more we want to give to the grown child."  

Yes, yes, YES!  This is spot-on--which is par for the course when it comes to Elizabeth Foss's eloquently expressed insights on motherhood.  

She continues, "I think that mothering people in their 20s is the most challenging mothering of all...Those are the things no one says.  It's not all over.  Buckle up.  Here comes the wild ride for which everything leading up to this moment has just been preparation."  I would only amend that last quoted section to read "people in their 20s, 30s, and 40s," because I don't even have any children in their 20s anymore.  (What?!  When, and how, did that happen?!)

Foss addresses this topic again in a June 13 post on her blog, In the Heart of My Home. She writes:

As I watch younger moms juggle babies and toddlers and big kids and try to be all the things for all of them, I want to assure them that it gets easier.  But I can't.  

I don't.

Because I don't think it does get easier.  It gets different.  In a lot of ways, it gets more challenging.  It's as if all the challenges of the younger years are designed to get you fit for the ones to come.

I was talking to an older mom yesterday about the choice we make to be peaceful with the way things turned out or to be bitter.  For some people, it is easy to be at peace.  For others, the choice can be the crucible where holiness is forged.

"The crucible where holiness is forged."  Wow.  That is some powerful writing, my friends.  And something to ponder…even for an extraordinarily fortunate mom like me, whose life has been mostly peaceful, whose heaviest cross these days is having to miss beloved grown children (and their children) who live much too far away.  

Because no matter how hard we moms try to be "all the things for all of them," we don't know what the future will hold for our children when they become adults.  As they say, adulting is hard!  Life will throw them so many curveballs.  And seeing them worry or struggle or suffer, when you can no longer make it all better with a Band-Aid and a kiss, is so painful for a mother.  Yet such is life here in the promised Valley of Tears!  Without faith, how does anyone endure it all?

If you can make it through the Mother-Son dance at your boy’s wedding without tears,
you’re a better woman than I!  (This is my baby, son #5.)

Well, I suppose it's time to figure out a way to wrap this all up.   

In a nutshell: yes, it can be scary having all grown children.  Worries don't magically disappear once your kids graduate from diapers, braces, and college; instead, they seem to multiply.

But so do the joys.  Case in point: check out this picture taken in July of our five boys and the five girls whom they married, and with whom they are raising 22 precious children between them (so far!).  These are ten of my favorite people on earth.  And if I hadn't let my boys grow up and leave me, they never would have given me these five sweet daughters to love.

Aren't these kids adorable?  (Rhetorical question, of course.  There can be only one answer!)

And here are a few pics of that high school boyfriend and me, after 44 years of marriage.  I'm so glad we ended up together; those five beautiful couples above wouldn't even be here if we hadn't!  (There are hardly any pictures of us together taken during the years we were dating, from 1973 to our wedding in 1980, because it was a whole different world back then--before the age of digital photography and home computers--and people hardly ever had a camera with them unless it was a big event.  Having these shots of us by the lake at Oyster Haven is very special to me!)

Life is good today.  And every day that I can wake up and say that, I feel blessed.

*That's the print copy title; online, the article is called "Note to the mother of a graduate."

So Much to Write About...I Can't Keep Up!

Hey there, 'member me?  LOL!

(No really, do y'all remember me?)

I used to post here pretty regularly, and now I drop in about once a month or so and dust off the old blog, all the while wondering, "Why am I still doing this again?"  

I know the answer to that question, actually: I want to archive as many family memories as I can, before my 65-year-old brain starts failing me and I don't remember what I had for breakfast today.  (Actually, that's easy, because I don't eat breakfast.  Or lunch either.  My husband and I really only have one meal a day, sometime in the afternoon--unless we're guests of friends or relatives.  But more about that some other time.)  So I want to keep this blog going, if possible...but yikes, if you think you're going to have more time for hobbies when your kids all grow up and leave you to start families of their own, I'm here to tell you that's not always the case.  It certainly isn't the case for me, anyway.

But I'll take a busy life, one so filled to the brim and overflowing with gobs of precious grandchildren that every other interest (except my husband, of course!) has to take a back seat.  I'm one lucky woman, and I remind myself of that fact every single day. 

So much catching up to do...but where to begin?  The last time I was here, summer wasn't even over yet. Since then, so much has happened.  Maybe the easiest way to tackle this is to start from our most recent family goings-on and work backwards through the month(s).  On that note:

My husband and I returned from a kind of epic road trip a couple of days ago.  If you come here often, you know that three of our five boys had settled down here in the same area of VA, and because of our decision to move south in 2017, we get to see them and their wives, and the 14 children they have between them, on a regular basis.  Our oldest lives out in WI now (most likely for good) and our youngest is located outside of Nashville (at least for the foreseeable future).  So we decided to visit both of those faraway boys and their families in one fell swoop, before winter weather sets in and makes travel difficult.  We first headed west to TN for a week, then north to WI for another week.  From WI, we drove back home to VA, with a stop in South Bend, IN on the way, to break up the trip and check on a rental house my husband and his siblings own out there.  We were gone about two-and-a-half weeks.  (We could have been gone for months, I believe; thank you, God, for children who actually like to spend time with their dear old Mom and Dad and are sad when we pull out of their driveways!)

Our week with our youngest son and his wife was delightful.  My husband was able to do a couple of minor projects for them (the last time we visited them, shortly after they bought their first house, he did a few major ones), but mostly the two of us just doted on our little granddaughter (grandchild #20), who is about as sweet and adorable as they come.  At a little over 7 months old, she is all pink-and-white skin, silky tufts of blond hair, big blue eyes, chubbiness with creases, breathy baby talk, heart-melting smiles, and giggles. We are besotted with that little one.

Our son's boss calls him "The Tall One."  He makes us look short, that's for sure.

My husband plays a game called "Stinky Toes" with all the grandbabies, and they love it.

Daddy's girl.

When we left TN, we drove north, stopping for the night at a hotel to break up the trip.  Once we got to our firstborn's WI home and had spent a few days catching up, we were able to do some painting and plumbing projects for him and his wife, who have bought a house out there that sits on 20 acres of land.  But mostly, we just enjoyed lots of time with their six children, whom we miss terribly now that they're so far away.  We had wonderful, hearty, home-cooked family dinners every night, sitting around the long pine farmhouse table our son made with his own two hands years ago.  And we were able to be there to celebrate his 40th birthday with him, which was very special.

It was fun watching our boy guide his four oldest girls, teaching them his secret methods for drawing amazing images using colored icings.  He has always been the birthday cake decorator in their house (the apple doesn't fall far from the tree--but in his case, the student has become the master!  The pictures on his cakes are more professional-looking than his mom's ever were).  Now he's passing on this skill to the next generation.

Tell me you know who Homestar Runner is.  (We wouldn't, if not for our
oldest son, who discovered him his Freshman year at Notre Dame.)

[Gulp!] I have a 40-year-old son.  Yes indeed, I do!   It seems like yesterday that I was pregnant with him, eagerly awaiting his birth and sewing things for his nursery.  I still have this little mobile that I made to hang over his crib. It's hanging in one of our guest rooms here at our house in VA.  I know it's not the best-looking mobile you'll ever see, but I am far too sentimental to get rid of it!

BTW, Our oldest son's wife is expecting baby #7 (grandchild #22) in about a month, so please keep them in your prayers, dear readers!

You know, I never had a problem with turning 40 myself.  But for some reason, our son turning that age kind of gave me a bit of a gut-punch. While my husband and I were driving back home, praying a Rosary together out loud in the car, my mind wandered and I found myself doing math.  Our triplet grandchildren recently turned 6.  And I thought, "How old will my boy be when those triplets turn 40?"  The answer, shockingly, was 74.  The answer was that he would be an old man.  My son, the sweet baby boy for whom I'd made that mobile not too long ago...someday, God willing, he would be even older than I am now.  Well, just thinking about that, my eyes welled up with tears and I was too choked up to say a few of my Rosary responses.

It's all good, though!  The circle of life and all!  As my father always used to say, when it came to getting older: it's better than the alternative.

Okay then, I'm going to stop here before I become too maudlin (am I too late for that?).  But I'll be back as soon as I can.  I need to chronicle the triplets' birthday celebration, for one thing!  Until then, God bless you!

Grandparents' Day, a Confirmation, Cousins, and a Cake

Well, it hasn't been QUITE a month yet since I last blogged (almost, but not quite!).  I left off with this post, from May 19, which chronicled a grandson's First Holy Communion and a Mother's Day celebration.  Lots has happened since then...lots that I haven't written about but I'd like to get down "on paper" here before too much more time has passed.

I actually forgot to mention another special event that occurred in May in that last post: Grandparents' Day at son #3's kids' Catholic school, which took place on May 12.  Their school is only about a 45-minute drive from where we live (I've said it before and I'll say it again, this move to VA in 2017 was the best decision we could have made), so we were able to arrive early and snag the best seats up front in the gym/auditorium.  (That way, when the kids looked out to see if we were there, we were easy to find!)  It was wonderful, but a bit crazy: when you have three students (grades JK, 1, and 2) and only two grandparents, it's hard to do all the things you want to do with each one, as each grade level has a different schedule of events.  But we did the best we could and our grandchildren seemed extremely happy that we came.  (Especially our JK cutie, who was literally jumping and dancing with joy.)

 

You may recall that in my next-to-last post, I blogged about a trip out to Iowa for a granddaughter's First Holy Communion in early May.  Well, that same granddaughter (8) and her sister (10), two of our oldest son's six children, were scheduled to be confirmed on May 21--in the same ceremony, at the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in LaCrosse, WI, by Cardinal Burke.  So we went on another road trip!  We drove out to Iowa first, to spend a couple of days with our son's family.  On Sunday, we went to a traditional Latin Mass at their parish in the morning, and then we car-caravanned over to WI with them afterward for the Confirmation.  Our 8-year-old granddaughter, City Girl, had asked me to be her sponsor.  Her sister, Little Gal, had asked her other grandmother.  What a special honor that was for Grammy and Nonna!

The two newly confirmed girls are in front,  one on either side of the cardinal, with their sponsors
 behind them. (St. Joan of Arc, pray for us!  St. Catherine Laboure, pray for us!)

One more interesting little fact: our granddaughters' mom Regina was also confirmed by Burke many years ago, back when he was a bishop.  

That will probably be our last trip to Iowa to see this beloved family, since son #1 has taken a job with a new company and a move to WI is imminent.  It's funny how you can get attached to a place so quickly.  They've only lived there a year-and-a-half, but I'm a bit sad that my husband and I will never visit them at their sweet little Iowa homestead again.  They've sold most of their animals (the cows, chickens, and ducks; but they still have the goats) and put their house on the market, and they're looking for a place to buy in WI.  We pray that the sale of the old house and the move to a new one will happen quickly and smoothly.

Doesn't this look idyllic, like something out of an old painting?  It's a dreamy piece
of real estate. (Hopefully some buyer will agree with that sentiment, sooner rather than later!) 

Let's see, what else has happened since I've been away?  Oh yes, over Memorial Day son #3, his wife, and their five kids made a trip to TN.  They met up with son #5, his wife, and their infant daughter (who live outside of Nashville), and they all stayed together in an airbnb cabin.  While my husband and I weren't part of that fun family vacation (which included visiting Dollywood), we enjoyed it vicariously through pictures.  We were so thrilled to know that two of our boys had met up with their families and were enjoying precious time together, and that cousins who'd never met before were forming new bonds.  (Although our youngest granddaughter may have to see these guys a few more times before she starts to remember them!)  That's everything to my husband and me, really.  Aside from wanting them to one day all become saints in Heaven (of course!), our one wish for our boys and their families is that they remain close to each other, long after we're gone.

It has become a tradition that sometime in mid-June, son #2 and his wife host a huge family blow-out party at their house, to celebrate the birthdays of their second-oldest son Jedi and my hubby.  After that backyard extravaganza, we head up to NY for the summer to manage our Vrbo house and enjoy the lake life.  This year, because our daughter-in-law Ginger is due to have baby #5 in mid-June, they were going to have the party at the beginning of the month.  But they ultimately decided to cancel, which to tell you the truth was a relief to us.  It's hard enough to be within a couple of weeks of giving birth, but add in a party for dozens of people (which always includes an amazing spread and a giant water slide/bouncy house for the kids), and that's just too much.  

So instead of that, Papa and I brought a little party over to Jedi last night, and we celebrated his 6th birthday a few days early. 

It has also become a tradition for Grammy to make cakes for all the
little ones.  Guess what Jedi is into these days?

Unless the baby decides to come earlier, Ginger is due to be induced on June 16, the Feast of the Sacred Heart.  She and son #2 chose not to find out the sex, and we can hardly wait to meet our new grandson or granddaughter!  We will be staying overnight at their house to watch their four boys while they're in the hospital.  Please keep our daughter-in-law and her baby in your prayers, if you could.

I used to dream that this blog would have all sorts of inspirational content, that it would be more about writing than just telling you what I've been doing and posting photos.  When I read Jenny Uebbing's blog posts, which don't come out that often and are always eagerly devoured, I'm just blown away by her WORDS.  (I love words!  I love to read them and to write them!  Speaking them is harder for me, so I'd rather write them.  But I digress...)  Uebbing rarely even includes pictures in her blog posts, but she doesn't have to.  Every essay is gold. 

This blog, on the other hand, has has become more of a scrapbook of my life than anything else.  But I'm okay with that!  As my 65th birthday approaches, I'm reminded more and more of how fleeting it all is, and I want to commit to memory every single precious moment with the people I love. 

And thanks be to God, there are many such moments.

Catching Up: Our Week+ with Our Baby's Baby

We had a family St. Patrick’s Day party at our house last night, and I love posting about Pearl holiday celebrations.  But I’m behind on my blogging (what’s new?!), and I wanted to first archive memories from our recent stay in Nashville, when we had the joy of meeting our 20th grandchild and helping our youngest son and his wife as they transitioned into their brand new roles of mommy and daddy.

On the 14th, we drove back home, after spending almost two weeks with our baby and HIS baby.  My husband and I were privileged to have arrived on the 2nd, just hours after our new little granddaughter's birth, and to meet her very shortly after she'd made her grand entrance into the world.

Papa and Grammy had a wonderful time while we were there, taking turns holding that precious tiny human when her tired parents needed to rest, taking pictures of her, and falling in love with her.  All babies are precious; but this one is particularly beautiful and sweet-tempered (says her besotted but totally unbiased grandmother!). 

Also, I did a good bit of cooking and cleaning, and my husband got a few of the kids’ "honey-do" items off the list--there always seem to be a number of them when you move into a new house!

Mending fences.

Building storage shelves for the garage.

 

We got to be there at the little one's first Mass, and then went out to brunch with her and her parents afterward.

It was tough to say goodbye, and in a perfect world this little family would live less than an hour from us, as our three middle sons and their families do.  This son and our firstborn (our "bookend boys") may be far away in miles, but they are always very close in our hearts.

As we drove off, our son ”waved at us through the trees” (or more correctly, through the townhouse units).  And if you want to know what that quote means, grab a hanky and read this old post, written back when he  graduated from Notre Dame in 2015.  It's one of my favorites.

Okay...I'm not crying, you're crying!  (LOL)

Next up:  St. Patrick’s Day party recap.  Hopefully coming soon!