Ode to Kate on Your 18th Birthday

July 8, 2025

My Dearest Kate,

Happy, Happy 18th Birthday!

I have so much gratitude for all of the milestones you've experienced this past year and all of the joy we've had watching you grow.

From the time you were little, you were two parts deep interest and extraordinary creativity.

You were constantly on the look out for what you could repurpose, stitch, draw, build and create.  You were deeply interested in reading about complex characters in magical story books and then deciding how you could make them come to life through 3-D printing, sewing, costuming and dreaming.  There hasn't been a season of your life when you haven't been bringing beauty, awe, and imagination into the world--it's been a through line for as long as I can remember.

In your senior year at Duchesne, you had the wonderful opportunity to create costumes for Sleepy Hollow and Seusical the Musical.  And through the Kent Bellows program, you designed, sewed, modeled and won student designer at Omaha Fashion Week.

 

And when you're not designing and sewing, you're trying to see as many productions as possible.  Hades Town was so much fun to share with Claire.

Life this past year was full applying to colleges, taking campus visits, learning about the selection process, and ultimately deciding on a really beautiful fit for you--a BFA in Theater Tech and Design and double major in Spanish at Nebraska Wesleyan--which we are selfishly grateful for the proximity so that we can see all eight main stage performances a year-hopefully many of which you'll be costuming for.

And as we watched you celebrate your final prom, scholarships, Claire's Confirmation (thank you for being her sponsor), Claire's 8th grade graduation and your high school graduation, dad and I realize that time flies when you're loving living life with your children.

And the hardest part is hoping that we've told you as much as possible how much we love you and how we're always rooting for your passions and pursuits.

In a few short weeks (although I'm hoping to sink deeply into them for as long as I can), we'll be moving you into your dorm.  We've got the linens, fridge, shower caddy, toiletries, and of course espresso maker.  And the truth is most days, I can't imagine it. I will miss you so much.  But I know that you are ready for this new journey and this wild, brave, beautiful adventure.

So, as you embark upon this year, with a new campus home, a roommate, professors, friends and a job--please remember this--you are remarkable.  There has never been another human being like you. And while it can feel tempting to forget the strength of your roots,  the dance is to explore, to question, to wander and to wonder but always to know that you're never alone--and that likely what you thought was best, right, or most true for you is what you first felt in your gut before you second guessed it.

Trust in yourself.  You have a deep wisdom and a strong North Star.  You have inside of you all that you need to make a difference in the world and to share your gifts with those you encounter.  Don't be afraid to show them who you are and to be open to learning different perspectives, ideas, and to challenge and be challenged.  This is what college is for.  These are the breeding grounds for dialogue, communion, hope and connection.

And along the way, if you feel unsure, tired, or in need of a reminder, I'm here, available on your terms, always.  I can listen.  I can give you my hug, my renewed hope, my receptacle of "what the fuck's/are you kidding me's," and my encouragement to try again.  

So, when you wonder if it's going to be okay or you think you're a little too stretched or are really over the moon, wildly ecstatic--I'm there and along with Dad, Sam, and Claire, we are holding you up, trusting in the promise of you, Cat-Uh-Lone-A...go make something beautiful!

All my love, Mom

Ode to 50 Birthday Candles

May 6, 2025

Happy, Happy 50th Birthday to me!

I remember when I started this blog about a decade ago I was knee-deep in raising these amazing kiddos...Sam (10), Kate (8) and Claire (5).

I rarely thought about who I was outside of being a mother and I was more than happy to be there.  We went to the park.  I pushed them on swings.  We made sand castles.  We had library cards and carted bags of books to the playground where we climbed trees and nestled in with snacks and the breeze.  We rode bikes.  We created lots and lots of art--our house was filled with glue, glitter, paint, clay, pipe cleaners, construction paper and music.  We baked.  We ate lots of Mac and cheese.  We imagined.  We got angry.  We learned how to say I'm sorry.  We couldn't stop saying I love you.  And we became a family.

And as they grew and we decided that they would continue to go to Catholic school, I went back to work-first in their school and then cultivated my own private conflict engagement practice.  And it wasn't easy, we navigated the dance of balancing activities, work obligations, and the disorienting feeling of watching time fly by.

Now, Sam is finishing his sophomore year in college and preparing to study abroad in Copenhagen next year.  Kate will begin her college adventure in the BFA Theater Tech/Design program at Nebraska Wesleyan, and Claire will begin high school at Duchesne.  And, I am 50. 

The beautiful problem of pouring yourself so deeply into your family is that when you look up and they are heading out, you ask, what now?  Who am I?  What have I learned?  What/where are my dreams? And these are good questions to be intentional about even if they feel daunting.

As I reflect, I've learned who I am and who I'm not.  I am a person who wears her heart on her sleeve.  I am deeply interested in getting at the vulnerable with everyone I meet and have little interest or time in pretense or pretending.  This has served me well in my work and relationships, but has hurt me in times when I should have a better poker face.  I just literally can't do it.

I am a person who looks like she has a great life on paper, but is almost always second guessing herself.  Did I do the right thing?  Did I make the best choice?  How will it all work out?  Is it going to be okay?

And while I'm deeply grateful for my humility, in my next chapter, I want to work on my chutzpah.

I am a person who believes in the good.  I trust that even if I don't know all of the inner workings or the pathway to get there that my lived experience demonstrates I will land where I'm supposed to--and that all of the twisty, windy turns have purpose and value, and that it's my choice/opportunity to learn from them.

And, after half a century, I know that life is complex and it's not about achieving or arriving or completing a plan--it's about noticing, wondering, connecting, intentionally choosing to share hope and love.

So, now that these kids are launching--what's next for me?  Well, I hope to mediate for a long, long time.  I hope to continue teaching graduate students.  I hope to keep celebrating many anniversaries and taking beautiful trips with my husband.  I hope to travel to where my children are studying/living to see the world through their view and to keep sharing bags of books and good coffee.  But I also, really, really want to write.  I want to put my stories into the world, even if I second guess myself and don't quite know if or how they'll be received.  

Here's to trusting and trying and the continual belief that life is about taking the leap in the only skin that is yours, believing that there's good people to catch you, and that your voice/yearnings matter and are meant to be shared.

You've got this...

Love, Me

Ode to 21-Years of Marriage

April 17, 2025

My Dearest Ray,

Happy, Happy 21st Anniversary!

On this beautiful, sunshiny Thursday, I am so grateful to be standing next to you.  

It's just incredible to me that in this moment of multiple crossroads, we're embarking upon so much transition.  

In two weeks, I'll turn 50.  A few weeks later, we'll move Sam out of his dorm as he completes his sophomore year of college.  The following day, Claire will graduate from 8th grade.  And the following week, Kate will graduate from high school.

Most of the time, we're running ragged keeping up with school and extracurricular events for the kids, maintaining careers, volunteering in the community, making sure the laundry gets done, the trash gets taken out, and somebody goes to Costco-usually you.

We text each other constantly-connecting on who's doing what, expressing apologies for being short or thanks for picking up Claire, asking for prayers for a challenging day, and strewn in between the to and fro's are a million I love you, I love you, I love you's.

When I reflect on 21-years of marriage it feels spectacular-not because of the big things, but because of the million little moments of support and partnership that add up to a beautiful, messy, complicated, crazy life.

It's the times when I say--I don't think I can do this/I'm so overwhelmed or what's going to happen when she graduates or how can we all travel there when he studies abroad or can you believe our baby will be driving or what if my business tanks or I never fall back asleep at night--and you say, it's okay, we're okay, you're okay...we're right where we're supposed to be.

Every year, you take the annual material (willow, linen, iron, etc.) and you find a way to carve or weave in the vows that you wrote and committed to me on our wedding day.  I love all of the words-but one stanza I cling to:

"I vow to hold your hand if you are frightened, 

Stand firm if you are unsure,

Protect you from any harm I can, 

And stand together with you against any adversity."

You know that most of the time I'm anxious and worried, and while it can feel burdensome, you never seem to tire from listening to my, "Oh no, what if this happens" version of a story.  You walk me through what I can control and you remind me that I'm a good person and that our kids, my clients, and our family/friends are lucky to have me.  You encourage me to believe in myself and give me the foundation to manifest the dreams/hopes and vision I have for my life.

Last fall, we made a dream trip to Lake Como and spent time in Italy and Switzerland-just you and I.  Sharing espresso, gelato, and lots of walking, we remembered what it was like to be just the two of us and what it felt like to dream side by side.  Next year, we'll be in Copenhagen visiting Sam while he studies abroad and I can hardly wait for our whole family to be together in Europe watching another dream come true.

So, as we age and grow old together, I say thank you for picking me.  Thank you for nurturing us.  Thank you for sacrificing and believing in our union.  Thank you for taking so much time big and small to show me and our now adult/growing children that you meant what you said all those years ago-that a vow is more than a word--it's an action, a continual choice, a decision to do something even when it's inconvenient or exhausting, a reliable/dependable/loyal/committed doing and being in the world.

Here's to a new year and the gift of aging together.  I can't wait to see what it feels like to have two kids in college, one in high school, and you and me, holding each other's hands, laughing, crying, wondering, believing in what can be.

I love you--I love you more--I love you most--You do?--I do, always,

Kelly

Ode to Sam on Your 20th Birthday

February 8, 2025

My Dearest Sam,

The sun is shining brightly, the wind is blowing gently, the sky is really blue, and you are officially 20.

I stand in amazement.  No longer a teenager, no longer primarily living at home in Nebraska; you have carved out a really magnificent space at St. Olaf College in Minnesota--with kind, smart, funny friends that you host a radio program with, engage great conversation, share fabulous banter, extend generous support, and have loads of fun with. 

You've explored really cool rigorous classes that have piqued your curiosity--some of my favorites have been the enduring questions program, studio art/photography and philosophy classes as well as your business concentration that has helped me with my own small business acumen.

And now, you're waiting to see which study abroad program will have you in another country next year. 

This year, also saw you voting in your first presidential election, ushering at your first cousin's wedding, getting your wisdom teeth extracted, and traveling with a good friend maintaining childhood friendships.

And through it all, you have been Sam.  The same amazing old soul, North Star, salt of the Earth, minimalist, witty, funny, stubborn, loving, kind hearted, beautiful, generous human being.

This year, I turn 50.  And as I reflect back upon you, the person who made me a mother for the first time, I think, how did I get to be so lucky--to have a child who teaches me the things in life that really matter, who has no interest in the material and deep curiosity for an intriguing story, a funny joke, or a really good piece of music.  That when asked what he wants will say, how about a good meal and conversation?  When asked if he's afraid of what comes next says, why would I be--look at how things have turned out up to this point.  When pressed on his faith, retorts quietly that God has been good.  

So, as you embark upon this new decade, may you trust in the exploration and lean deeply into the questions believing that the answers will emerge, or maybe they won't, but we don't have to know where it will all lead to share in a good life.  Trust your internal compass.  You are a really good judge of character.  When in doubt, give it a go--trusting that you can always course correct, believing that life is for the living.  And if you need a safe space to land, I am always, always here--for a warm meal and good conversation.

Thank you for letting me be your mom and for being such a great son.  I have no words, even as I type this, to say how grateful I am for two decades of birthday celebrations with you.  You are my heart.  You are my hope.  And you have my enduring support in anything you pursue and whomever you love.

As you celebrate today with friends on campus, know that we're here at home so grateful you were born.

So much love, always,

Mom