Miscellaneous

I went to the funeral for my friend's son today. It was, as expected, bittersweet. It was wonderful to hear this boy spoken of with such unabashed love and admiration. He had a happy ten years here on earth, and that was worth celebrating. The dad really summed it up for everyone when he said that he was just so sad that he wouldn't get to see the person his son would have become. Wrenching. It was standing room only-this family have reached out and really gotten involved in the community, and the community reached back. The pastor who led the service said something lovely that I really liked: When a family suffers a loss like this, their community must form a cradle in which that family can first rest, then come forth from and start a new life-the life they must now create without their little boy. Uff. Not much more to say.

In other news, today is my wrestler's last home meet. They will have a bit of post-season action when regionals and counties come round, but overall it has been a tough season. They have fought hard and I'm really proud of Sam, but there have been many challenges this year. It will benefit all these boys in the end, because their coach really does teach them and support them. In the meantime, wrestling is just one tough sport. Of all the sports my kids have played, it takes the most heart.

This past weekend was my annual girls' weekend with a few of my oldest and dearest friends. We secret ourselves away in the woods of Pennsylvania for 3 days and pretty much solve all the world's problems. And all without getting out of our jammies or being more than 10 feet away from a cozy fire and a table full of yummy snacks. It is my little piece of heaven every year-good women, all different, coming together to reweave our nets for the coming year. Something that was new this year was that my friend got satellite broadband internet at her cabin and we showed each other all our favorite youtube videos. It was such a delicious waste of time, but we laughed and cried ourselves silly. My absolute favorite new find (apparently I'm a little news-starved) was Paul Potts. I don't know quite where I've been, but this is the first I've heard of him and I just love his story. Here are some videos you can watch if you've been in the same cave I've been in.
Paul Potts 1
Paul Potts 2
Paul Potts 3

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Tender Times

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
and things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art; to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

-Longfellow

This has been a thoughtful, slightly melancholy day. The leader of the LDS church, Gordon B. Hinckley died last night, which has given me a chance to think of one kind of death-a peaceful passing at the end of a life fully lived. He served tirelessly, was unselfish, devoted and faithful. He was 97 years old. For him death was a release to be reunited with loved ones and rest from his considerable labors. There is little but admiration and a quiet recognition of the goodness of his life in a death like his.

Juxtaposed against those thoughts, I have been forced to think about another kind of death-the unexpected and terrible death of a young boy-only 10 years old-the son of a fellow PTA volunteer at my kids' schools. This is a beloved boy from a happy family. He had only a few years in the arms of his mother. I am grateful for the faith that I have that she can hold him again someday in another time and place. My hope and prayer for this friend is that she will be able to feel something of that same hope. If not now, in the raw, searing pain of first grief, then maybe soon. Maybe in some quiet moment when she has time to think about the glorious being that her boy is and realize that the life of such a soul cannot possibly be extinguished by mere death. Her heart will surely try to tell her that, and I hope she will believe it.

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My Portrait on Skates

This is not me, and I can't even take credit for the photo, but it captures how I'm feeling. Last night, our youth group from church had their annual ice-skating night at a local rink. I was driving my daughter and some friends and was just going to stay for the evening. I hooked up with another mom and we chatted and watched the kids skate. True to my personality, I couldn't stand to only watch. I went down and joined in for the second hour of the session. I used to skate regularly and loved the feeling of gliding along. In my own impetuous way, I practiced a bit, chatted with my young friends, and got more and more comfortable with the skates. I had some truly lovely moments where I felt that old, smooth, gliding freedom. It was truly fun.

Here is the other side of the coin, though and the part I've been thinking about rather philosophically: In between all those moments of grace and feeling free, I fell at least 5 times in that hour. It might be more than that, because I definitely have more than 5 bruises. I fell spectacularly, either face first or on my bottom, sliding and spinning and getting completely covered in ice. A couple of times the pain from the impact was bad enough that I could feel my blood pressure dropping to the point that I might faint if I didn't sit down. I felt ridiculously embarrassed, I felt mad at myself for going to fast and not being more cautious, I felt silly for being 41 and wanting to skate in the first place, etc., etc. I wished desperately that I could be like others who were being cautious, and careful. They were going slow, but they weren't falling down. In spite of all these things flitting through my head, I kept getting up and going back out on the ice. I seemed unable to just cut my losses, preserve my remaining limbs and be content to watch. I am equal parts chagrined at myself and proud of myself. I never know when to give up, to say uncle, to cut and run. Once I'm in, I'm in. But now, as I nurse two very sore wrists, one of which I'm certain is sprained or even broken, look at plate-sized bruises on my hips and feel my bruised knees get stiff just typing this, I wonder when I'll let go of my stubbornness, my need to constantly prove myself, and my insatiable curiosity. Were those few moments of loveliness worth it? I don't know. The consequences will be with me for a while. Are my pains evidence of positive character traits or negative ones? Am I tenacious and spunky or just a fool? In real life, I make so many stupid mistakes because I can't just sit and watch. Are the mistakes really worth it? I've asked myself these questions for as long as I can remember. Who knows if I'll ever figure out the answers.

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Sweater Days

The weather has cooled down. I can wear my sweaters! A bit of a storm is supposed to come through and I have to admit I was sort of hoping I might have a morning off of seminary, but I was ready, so we had fun even though I didn't get a bonus day of sleeping in. It was a game day plus the end of the quarter, so we finished off some competitions we were having for certain outcomes. I am so excited because the LDS church has put up a new website with resources for teaching individuals with disabilities. I have 4 kids in my class with differing challenges, and it has already helped me to improve my adaptation techniques. The kids I have are awesome and participate as fully as they are able and I love to see their successes. Hopefully, some of these ideas and insights will help me to facilitate more good experiences.

If you are not fully familiar with seminary, here is a bit of an explanation. All over the world, Mormon teenagers who are in high-school gather and study the scriptures and the doctrines and teachings of the gospel of Jesus Christ. In areas where there is a large, dense population of members of this church, they get permission to have released-time from school and meet in a building adjacent to the school. In our area, we meet in smaller groups before school (my class starts at 5:50 am). In some areas, they meet once a week, because distance or other circumstances make it hard to gather every day. I have 24 kids who squeeze into my family room every day so I can teach them. Over the past 5 1/2 years or so, I estimate that I've taught about 60 kids. They are among the greatest people I've ever met, and in spite of my occasional complaining about the hours and the time it takes, there is no other assignment I'd rather have in the church right now.

In other news, Sam is better, but still not 100%. He hasn't been able to practice wrestling this week, but is going to try today because he wants to wrestle in a tournament this weekend. Eric is fighting the same virus, but has not had the chance to rest much. He did take Monday off, but that's about it.

Today will be pretty non-stop, so I'm going to try and get my workout in now. Then it's off to visit my pal at the assisted living home, wrestling practice for Sam, then piano lessons for Sara and I, a church activity for Sara, and finally a two-hour knitting lesson. Tomorrow, I'll sleep in. At least until 7.

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Can't think of a title.

Well, I have another change in plans for this year. My friend won't be able to run the marathon, for a very good and legitimate reason, so now I have to decide whether to run the full marathon on my own, run the half or just wait. I don't do as well on my own. Well, that is not really true. I just really like running with someone, especially her. My friend will keep training with me, which is good, but I've already finished a marathon once, so I don't feel like I have anything to prove. So, I will probably just do the half again. I don't know yet. It's all good though, I'm just indecisive.

Sam is quite sick and has been since Thursday. He managed to wrestle in Thursday's match against my Alma Mater (Catonsville High) and even win, but he was already running a fever at that point and has been home ever since. He's 15 and mostly sleeping, but he has a fever of about 102, is occasionally throwing up, and has a sore throat. On top of that, his congestion appears to be turning into a sinus infection. I skipped the baby shower yesterday because Eric was gone all day to scout training. I listened to my Ken Kolodner CD's will take my pal out for lunch to celebrate. Today I'm home from church to make sure Sam gets his antibiotic and remembers to drink water. It felt like maybe his fever had broken at about 5 this morning, but now he feels hot again. Bless his heart. He's a pretty sweet patient, but here is a laugh for those of you who have maybe encountered a different kind of patient:

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rough around the edges

I've lost a bit of control over my house. I am by no means a meticulous housekeeper, but I like things to look presentable. I'm well acquainted with the difference in the spirit of a home when it is hard to live in because of clutter. I don't like the other extreme, either and would never want to live in a museum or a model home. Right now though, things are piled up around the edges, pushed out of the way so we can sit down and eat and sleep. I'm just off my routine. I haven't properly sorted mail all week, which has given rise to a ragged mountain range of piles on my dining room table. Blegghh. Sorting papers is not my best thing, so having a lot at one time to sort will be hard to get into. I made a start of rescuing things this afternoon, but I my bed sucked me in when I was attempting to make it at about 2pm (that tells you how things have been lately) and I didn't wake up till 4:30. I needed it, but it was definitely a trade-off. I've been puttering around tonight while Eric and the boys watch Eric's new DVD collecttion of the original Mission Impossible TV series-one of his Christmas gifts. I'm cleaning up in small doses between reading, blogging and knitting and I've gotten a fair amount done. There is still more to do before I'll feel better, so I'll have to make time tomorrow. Probably not till the evening, though as I'm running 10 miles in the wee hours, then I teach one quick lesson, then have a baby shower to attend for my friend who is adopting a baby boy from Guatemala. I am skipping my seminary in-service to go because this is the culmination of about a 3-year odyssey that deserves celebrating. I am intrigued because it is not a typical shower with games and cake; it is a house concert by a local musician named Ken Kolodner along with a catered lunch. It will probably be really yummy Latino food, too, which grand and diverse category is probably my all around favorite type of cuisine. Anyway, I will take notes for the next shower I throw, because I like the idea of something a little different.
Okay, I'm off to make some cookies for the MI watchers and then back to trying to excavate Mount Postal.

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What's goin' on...

I seem to have temporarily run out of all but the most mundane of words. Can't think of anything interesting to write.
Actually, it's not that. It's that I have a pretty major, new challenge in my life helping someone from church, it has been taking up most of my time, but the experiences I've been having aren't appropriate for sharing here. Suffice it to say, however, that I have had the opportunity to put pretty much any problem I will ever have for the rest of my life into proper perspective. Ever. My paper journal is getting a workout. In the meantime, Eric is loving all the election coverage, all my kids are happy and healthy and doing good things, I really need to go running, and I'm really, really looking forward to my annual girls' weekend away in the wild woods of Pennsylvania at the end of the month. I'm working on a big knitting project and watching way too many reruns of M*A*S*H. The bad news for today is that I'm not going to England this year. I'm working on that stiff upper lip thing. Thank goodness for Masterpiece Theater, right? The good news for today is that I found a new bookstore in my area. Corinne and I already have plans to check it out. I can't quite figure out from the website if it is a real store or the headquarters of an online store. If you know anything about Super Book Deals, do tell.

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Memories

In the next two months, we have three young men leaving from our congregation to serve missions in California, Mexico and Brazil, respectively. This afternoon was a sweet gathering to honor the first to leave. Friends came to his family home to say goodbye for two years, to wish him well, to reminisce about their own missionary experiences (many members of the LDS church have served missions, so there exists a strong culture of common experiences) and to rejoice with the family that a son would take such a great step.

If you are not familiar with what Mormon missionaries do, here is a primer. Between the ages of 19 and 26 or so, young men and women are eligible to volunteer to serve a mission for the church. It is a common misconception that it is required. It is encouraged and considered a major form of devotion, but it is strictly voluntary. The missionary or his family pays their own way (but if someone desires to serve and can't pay, then the church will support them) for 18 months to two years for the individual to go anywhere in the world where it is legal for the church to be established, from Pittsburgh to Paris, Jacksonville to Jakarta. Once there, the missionary endeavors to share the gospel of Jesus Christ through service, friend-shipping, and proselyting . Contact with family is limited to email, mail and 2 phone calls per year (Christmas and Mother's Day). They don't come home for visits. It is a big deal. Even though it is a fundamental part of the culture of our church, and that familiarity makes it easier to get one's mind around all that is asked of the individual, it is still a big deal.

Sharing the joy of this family tonight made me think a lot about my own missionary son. He is three-quarters of the way through his service, but I only had my knitting blog back then. So, here is an excerpt of my report of the moment of his leaving. Now we're already looking forward to him coming back. I just cannot believe how fast the time has gone. We spoke to him on Christmas, and it was wonderful to hear his voice. He sounds like himself, but there is a definite additional warmth and depth in his voice.

Anyway, I hope my friend has the same kind of sweet parting with her son that I did. No fear, no worry, and just a moment of sadness tempered by pride, excitement and peace. It is all I would wish for every mom and dad.

July 1, 2006: Well, the last weeks were spent fitting the knitting in around the major endeavor of getting son number one out the door for his two years of missionary service for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. There were so many last minute details and so many things to try and savor and enjoy and not get stressed about. It was wonderful to see him rise to the occasion and be really quite poised and mature about the whole matter. He took care of all the practical aspects like visas, shots, applications, etc.. He mostly just told me what he was already taking care of on his own. It does a mother's heart good to see a kid actually function in the real world. I always said my job was to create humans who could live without me. Some have called me callous for having that attitude, but really, what better gift can I give them? I certainly don't want them dependent and suffering without me there to make them a sandwich. So we went with him to Utah to begin his service. We won't see him at all for two years, but instead of being scary or sad or difficult, it was a good parting. He was ready to go, and the sense I had was that he is in the right place at the right time. That to me is the definition of peace, and that is what I felt.
Here he is on the way from the hotel to the Missionary Training Center. He really was that relaxed-he fell completely asleep. I love this picture.


Here he is with his Dad walking toward the next two years. If you're noticing that that is not the MTC, you're right. He went in during the last week of June, so the new mission presidents were at the MTC. His intake occurred at a nearby chapel.


The yellow sign on the door says no more photos inside, so this was a quick last shot of him before he left us.

To my friend Cheri, I will be thinking about you and your family during this tender time.

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New Year

While I try not to get caught up in the resolution frenzy, I do like the feeling of the new year. The idea of a fresh start is exciting and energizing. Really though, I tend to feel it more at the start of the school year than now. Now is just halfway through till school and seminary are over.

However, I do like planning for the year and anticipating changes. 2008 portends to be a very good year for us. We bought our tickets to California for spring break-10 days in the Bay Area-I'm very excited (we have to take advantage of my brother living there before he moves away in July...)! I have the marathon the end of March. My friend Jill and I are still talking about a trip to England in June, and I will probably be at Girl's Camp again. We figure that Jeff will probably be home from Panama right around the beginning of July. Johnathan will likely leave for his two years of missionary service some time in the late summer or early fall, and Sara will enter high school in the fall. I am teaching at all the Stitches Expos again, so I'll be traveling to NoCal in Feb., Chicago in Aug. and downtown Baltimore in Nov. . Eric continues to do well at work and is on track for Partnership late this year or early next.

So, to everyone who cares enough to check in on me, a belated Happy New Year! By the way, I am reading blogs, just not commenting much. I know how much I love comments though, so I will get 'round to it. I love interacting with all my blogging friends in this way, and truly enjoy reading your thoughts and ideas. Doing so always lifts me up and makes me feel warm and happy inside. Thanks for sharing so generously in this way.

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