Ode to Claire on Your 12th Birthday

My Dearest Claire Bear,

 Happy, Happy 12th Birthday!

 As I reflect over this past year, it is amazing to consider how extraordinary that it's been for you.

You embarked upon your 6th grade year at Saint Margaret Mary with a bang by recently becoming a first-degree black belt decided in taekwondo.  It has been a long-term goal that you've pushed for since third grade, and now that you're there, you're working to become an instructor.  The fun part is that your dad now also takes lessons, and he has to call you, Ms. Gering in class.  Ah, the joy.

 

This year also saw you try your hand at volleyball, and my goodness, what a run!  Your team was undefeated and won their division!  You had so much fun improving your skills and embracing what it means to be a part of a team. Go Spartans!

 

 

You also decided to run for Student Council, and became one of two representatives from your 6th grade class.  You and another member created a power point presentation of the areas for improvement within the school, and shared opportunities for change with the principal.  Listening to you practice your speech, and speak passionately about what you believe in was inspiring.

And when you're not doing homework, you're enjoying the SMM chess and quiz bowl teams, taking piano lessons, and filling orders for friends with the animals you crochet on the side.  They're so cute!

 

It's also been fun to see your love of reading soar as you, dad and Sam read the Percy Jackson series, share thoughts on the Narnia books, and exchange notes on the characters you love and why the story took an unexpected turn.

More than anything, what I see in you is an unmatched tenacity and love for living life.  You live on purpose almost always laughing, singing, dancing, listening to musicals, writing stories with friends, telling new jokes at dinner, or cracking us up with some crazy thing you've heard.

And through it all, we are infinitely blessed by your feisty, spicy, strong, fearless, unapologetic choice to live life on your terms.

In your last year before the official teens begin, I say, keep being you.  Stay firmly planted in your own agency.  Keep trusting in what you know is best for you.  Remain grounded in the things that you love without looking to the left or right of you, comparing yourself to what the others are doing.  Believe that your heart and gut will continue to guide you home.

And as you watch your older brother in his senior year and your sister in her sophomore, and you hear conversations about driving, curfews, and college selections, know that you're right where you're supposed to be--likely learning the good lessons from the places we struggle with the older ones--and that Sam and Kate love you to pieces, and are grateful to have you as their little sister to share time and giggles with.

 

 

In this new year, continue to cultivate your strength and your hopefulness. And keep growing and stretching yourself.  And when you do, goodness will continue to emerge.

We could not be more proud of you or love you more.  You're simply the best.

 

All my love from here to forever, 

xoxo, mom

Happy Last First Day, Sam

 August 16, 2022
 

My Dearest Sam,

Today, we're having lots of feelings.

I think mine look a little different than yours.

 

You are really excited about senior year--all that is to come--challenging AP classes, football games, final dances, cool retreats, time with friends, building your art portfolio, running cross country, applying to colleges, figuring out where you'll be next, and in general, enjoying what it means to be in your last year of high school.

And as such, you reluctantly let me take this picture.  You knew, that on today, it was more for me than for you, and you put down your backpack and water bottle, so, we could snap a quick photo...I even tried to give you a Cliff bar on the way in...because, I can't help it.

In some ways, I'm sorry that you're the first of your siblings.  The first one for everything.  The first last day of school.  The first to look at colleges.  The first to drive.  The first to figure out the curfew thing.  The first to know how involved we get with all the pieces.

For the most part, you roll with it.  You let me be emotional, and you reassure me that you've got it covered.

So, today, while I wonder how 12 years of first day pictures could have flown by--I'm working to trust that you and I are right where we're meant to be.

You with your wings.  Me with my reluctant Cliff bars.

Thanks for letting us do this journey together.  Know that I'm here on the sidelines rooting like crazy for you.  Here's to the rising, the falling, the laughing, the knowing, the uncertainty and everything in between.  

And most importantly, know that you are so very loved,

 Mom

Ode to Kate on Your 15th Birthday

July 8, 2022

My Dearest Kate,

Happy, Happy 15th Birthday!

It is so incredible to think that 15-years ago, God gave you to us to be a part of our family.  And what a gift you are!

There are so many things that are remarkable about who you are, but in particular this past year has been amazing to be a part of your journey.

You completed your first year of high school at Duchesne Academy of the Sacred Heart and crushed it! Between theater, archery, speech, crazy hard classes, work study and so much more--you made new friends, explored creative parts of yourself and excelled along the way.

From the first to the last day of Freshman year, it was an honor to watch you grow, challenge yourself and strive to be the best version of you.

Speaking of which, this year, saw you soar in your commitment to dance--between ballet, en pointe, lyrical and modern...you found your way into the Omaha Dance Project and back on stage for your first in-person recital in 3-years.  All so magnificent to witness as I'm reminded of when you were a little ballerina and wanted to be like the big girls.

One of the highlights of this past year, was the journey we all took to begin the college selection process with Sam.  We explored Evanston, Chicago, Lake Forest, Norfield, St. Paul, MN and while we were there, I watched you light up.  Seeing you explore buildings, program offerings, campus spaces--it was extraordinary.  On the heels of your brother's choice, you will soon be doing the same, and it is clear that you are more than ready for the new adventure.

One of the pieces of you that has always amazed dad and I is your incredible gift of creativity--your ability to sew, paint, draw, design, repurpose, and bring an idea to life.  Whether behind the scenes in crew for Duchesne's production of "Little Women," designing and sewing from scratch a character for Comicon, making a homemade mushroom Halloween costume or drawing and painting your self portrait.  You are talented.

And then, this year, unleashed the power of making your own money via babysitting and holy cow, between your own checking account and the ease of Venmo, you have found a way to sustain your purchases from craft stores by playing games, making mac and cheese, and facilitating endless bouts of hide and seek with other people's kiddos...and they love you!  You've gone from babysitting your little sister--to helping lots of other families.

So, here's the thing, Kate...I know from watching your big brother that these last few years in high school are going to fly.  Soon, you'll get your learner's permit and then, once you start driving, you'll be just as independent as he is.  And the thing is, I'll miss you, just as much as I miss him--but I won't be able to help witnessing you soar.

As you embark upon the goodness of your 15th year, continue to do what brings you joy.  Garner inspiration, design, journal, draw, spend time with friends, go to Kitaki, keep shooting arrows in archery and aiming for the bulls eye, curse when you want to, read science fiction, joke with your dad, play Magic with your brother, listen to podcasts, soak up all that this beautiful life has to offer.

And if you start to worry or wonder or feel wobbly--you've always got a safe space to land--right here, right now, forever.  I'm always rooting for you, hoping for you, believing in you--trusting that God has big plans for your one magical life that we are so lucky to be a part of.

Here's to all that this new year has to offer.  We could not be more proud of you...

All my love,

Mom

Ode to 47

 

Four years ago, I opened my conflict resolution practice.

Six years ago, I started teaching at a university.

Eight years ago I ran a marathon.

Eleven years ago I gave birth to our third child.

Eighteen years ago I walked down the aisle and completed my master's degree.

Twenty five years ago I graduated from college after studying abroad.

Thirty years ago, I was the age my son is today.

*****

As I look back over 47-years, I stand in awe...what a wild life.

And as I ponder what makes a good life, I have to believe that so much of  it is showing up amidst the not knowing.  

Showing up when you don't know what you're doing.  

Showing up when you're scared.

Showing up when you're pretty sure it's gonna be shitty.

Showing up when you're tired.

Showing up when you'd rather not.

Showing up when the something on the other side isn't deserving.

Showing up when you have no guarantees.

*****

Presence is happiness.  Presence and intentional engagement in the here and now with all of its sticky, flawed, oily, frustrating, beautiful madness is the only way to know you're alive.

And believe me, in the last few years, people I have really loved have died too early, and with their abrupt departure, I have learned that we only have the now--not the now when we're ten pounds lighter or ten fold richer or prettied up...just the present moment.

And so, as I embark upon this 47th year, I say, hooray...I lucked out...I made it to another year of life...another moment of continuing to show up...

To see my son embark upon his senior year of high school and his epic college selection process.

To discover my eldest daughter slaying her high school experience while she masters archery during the day and en pointe at night.

To witness my youngest daughter break boards in taekwondo and write short stories that she fully intends to publish.

All while I share my hopes and incessant worries with a brilliant partner who is willingly in all of the details.

This life is a gift.  The decision to inhabit this new year is a choice.  May I continue to choose wisely.  May I continue to show up imperfectly over and over again remembering that tomorrow is guaranteed to no one and this time is for the living.

Ode to 18-Years of Marriage

April 17, 2022

 

My Dearest Ray,

Happy 18-years of Marriage!

Moments ago, you returned home from taking Sam, another dad, and two of his friends on college visits this past week to the Chicago land area.

Just in time, you jumped back in the van to buy groceries for the new week, and to get Kate to the Comicon conference downtown to present the costume she's been designing, sewing, and 3-D printing for over a year.

But not before you made sure that Claire had poster board, markers, and supplies needed to complete her science project on the sun.

****

This is our life.  And you, are at the center, in every detail, joyfully.

****

It's hard to believe that 18-years ago, we took such a leap of faith and said, "I do." How could we have known what we were saying yes to?  Almost two decades later, it looks like--infinite car rides to and from three schools, boy scouts, ballet, taekwondo, piano lessons, cross country and speech meets, volleyball practices/games, Target/Costco runs, lunch packing, test studying, paper editing, fight referring, hair cut/physical/dentist scheduling, braces tightening, retainer losing, eye glass/contacts prescription changing, early morning alarm ringing, carpool arranging, last minute, "Dad, I forgot" scrambling and everything in between.

And through the mayhem and busyness, you have said yes to me.

Yes to the countless times, when I've asked, "Will it be okay?," watching our teenager drive away, seeing our little girl start high school, recovering from yucky words with our feisty fifth grader, or jumping out into the world and starting my own business.

Yes to my need for control and my desire to have things look a certain way, realizing that it's okay to acquiesce when you love another.

Yes to my talking things to death, and my need to process every feeling (again and again), especially when it comes to the hopes/concerns for our children.

Yes to reworking your schedule to pick up one kid and take another to a thing-which forces you to bring work home and reconfigure your tasks-because you know it will ease my burden.

Yes to making dinner every night-because it doesn't stress you out, and you're just better at it.

Yes to being the last one awake in the house so you can make sure every kid light is out, run the dishwasher, put things away, and ensure we're ready for the morning.

Yes to holding my uncertainty with a strong sense of faith that reminds me of how far we've come and the promise that God holds for our future.

Yes to the practice of your faith, and the model of that for our children.

Yes to the continual invitation to run slowly, because you'd rather round the bends with me as your partner than to go it solo.

Yes to listening to me complain about my weight, and still picking up Dairy Queen when I text at night asking to grab a blizzard on your way home from picking up a kid.

Yes to walking me down from the ledge when I think it's a good idea to visit our son monthly in college (I'm still working on accepting that this is an insane idea).

Yes to giving me space, reminding me that I'm beautiful, assuring me that I'm right where I'm supposed to be, and encouraging me that this too shall pass.

There's just so much, and honestly, words are insufficient.

You are not Jesus, but on this Easter day, you remind me of the rising--the deep belief that love is so much more than we can possibly know on the day we say yes at the altar.  It is rising continuously to the calling of saying yes to the person we chose and who chose us-even when it is the same over and over again.  It is holding steady to the belief that if we keep showing up, keep doing the work imperfectly, and keep intentionally saying yes, we will carve out a life--an honest, real, beautiful thing that gets better with each year, because we believed in the capacity of each other, and ultimately, of ourselves.

Thank you for saying yes to me and to us.  Sam, Kate, Claire and I are the luckiest because you keep heeding the call.

Happy, Happy 18-years, my love.

I pray that we get many, many more.

All my love,

Kelly

 

Ode to Sam on Your 17th Birthday

 February 8, 2022

My Dearest Sam,

Today, you are 17-years old.

There's a million things I want to share--mostly because every time I think about you, I'm bowled over in awe, while simultaneously, feeling like time is slipping through my hands.

Weren't we just doing this...

Holiday room parties, STAC quiz bowl sessions, cub scouts, Magic tournaments, Harry Potter marathons, piano lessons, epic bike rides, and countless pushes on swings and walks home from school.

Now, you pick up your sisters from school, grab a gallon of milk at HyVee, and let me bless you five million times before you leave the house while promising to be safe on the roads.

Remember all of those dinosaurs with the crazy multi-syllabic names that only you could pronounce, and the times we stood and watched the incredible construction sites while you named all of the trucks and the intricacies of what they could do?  Or, how about when staying up until 9pm was late...and indulging in pancakes with Nutella and whipped cream required asking for special permission?

Now, you and your best friends head out for sushi, movies, and soon, will take a trip to go look at colleges.

 

I really do know this is supposed to happen.  I mean, I can remember when I was 17 and all of the larger than life plans, hopes, dreams and excitement I had.  I also remember the craziness of trying to maintain a strong GPA, a competitive ACT score, and loads of activities while holding down a job.

But I never did it like you're doing it.  It's been the greatest gift to see you soar, in only the way that you, Sam, the humblest of them can do.

This year, we celebrated the unbelievable accomplishment of earning your Eagle Scout.  When I think of the number of hours post first grade that you and your father put into service, camp outs, skills based seminars, meetings, leadership roles, and projects--I stand in amazement.  And the truth is, you didn't waver.  You wanted it and learned more than we could have imagined.

 

Your junior year has also seen you running cross country, taking crazy hard AP and honors classes, continuing your lawn mowing business, trying a stint part-time in the restaurant business, serving in a leadership role in the Prep Film and Photography club, serving on retreats, and chauffeuring your sisters all over God's green earth.

Some of the most fun was taking you and the girls to Lake Forest College where dad and I met, and to Northwestern to start the college exploration.  My favorite comment was how surprisingly small the dorm rooms are...indeed, son, indeed.

As we continue on this journey of figuring out where the next home will be, I'm mindful of a million of things.  The first is the reminder that you're right where you're supposed to be.  God made you to be the steadiest of old souls.  Your internal compass is extraordinary.  You know what seems right, and you really cannot be moved.  I've tried to get you to swear (Lord knows I'm a master coach in the art), to drink coffee (this still boggles my mind that you have zero desire), to taste a sip of wine (a hard pass by you), and never once have you asked for a social media account.

You are rock solid. 

But the truth is...in less than 18-months, you're going to leave us, and head off for the next adventure--probably in a new city with people and experiences that may shake who you are and what you know.

So, here's what I want to impart...

• People are people no matter where you go.  Continue to treat them well. Leave them better than they found you.
  
• Pray and ground yourself in silence--trust in the inner knowing that tells you when you should or shouldn't do something.  And, when you feel afraid to try something, ask yourself, "If fear wasn't here, could I see myself loving it?"  And if the answer is yes, go for it.  No one ever regretted trying something that they really hoped would come true (even if they landed flat on their face).
• Good things happen when you leave the house.  Get out of your bedroom (dorm).  Stay off your phone.  Explore.  Meet someone.  Give them a smile and find something to ask them about.
• It's okay that you don't know what you want to be when you grow up.  The truth is...no one does.  We're all just faking it.  Enjoying what we can.  Changing when we're able.
• Decide who you are, even when others make it seem like you should not be.  And the who you are has nothing to do with what your business card says.  Foundationally, decide what you stand for. 
  
• At the end of the day, the only two things that matter are, "I love you," and "I'm sorry." Get good at saying them often.  Life will be infinitely easier this way.
• You are so, so, so deeply loved.  When you lose your way, you can always come home.  We'll be here.  So, too, will your bed and your things--but for now, use your wings to find another safe place to land.  There's more goodness out there than you can imagine.  And when you run across the bad, keep running---it will take you to the next right choice/place.

And so, on this day, Happy Birthday, Sam...may your heart be full and may you always know that there's so many of us rooting for you--wanting all of the good for you this year and every year forward.  Here's to more blessings than you can imagine.

All my love, Mama