Ode to Sam on Your 18th Birthday

 My Dearest Sam,

Happy, Happy 18th Birthday! 

How is it possible that you're soaking in the final few months of senior year, waiting to hear from colleges, preparing for your first trip abroad, spending every free moment with friends, and enjoying the last Prep traditions of leading Freshman Retreat, enjoying Mother/Father/Son masses, competing at Quiz Bowl tournaments, finalizing art portfolios, and sinking into your new favorite Philosophy and AP Government classes?!

Sometimes, when I think of you, I remember this little guy...

 

Only to reflect, in this picture on who I know you to be now...

 both photos taken at Elmwood Park across from our home, but seemingly, a lifetime apart.

 

So much growth happens in 18-years.  It really is remarkable.  And while everyone says to enjoy it because it's fleeting, I haven't fully realized, maybe gratefully, that you've been becoming an incredible young man along the journey.

 

This past year alone has been filled with so much change.  You were home far less working to save money to go on a WWII history trip which dad and I are so incredibly excited for.  When your passport arrived, we all looked at each other and knew that the little blue book symbolized freedom.  

 

The year has also been consumed with a crazy amount of college application writing, creation of fine arts portfolios, scholarship essays, busy AP courses...and back and forth, and back and forth...weighing of the pro's and con's of differing school options.  When I think back to my senior year, I really don't remember it being this hard.  I don't recall college costing five million dollars or feeling like I had as many viable options as you do.  And while we sit and wait for God's plan to unfold, I'm trusting that whether your next adventure takes you to the Chicago land area, the coast of Maine, the beauty of Minnesota, or maybe even close by in Nebraska, that you'll grow right where you're planted.  And this is where you and I are stepping out on a leap of faith praying that all the stars will align, benevolent influences will emerge, money trees will flourish, and guardian angels will watch over as you step into adulthood.

And as you do, I want to say thank you.  Thank you for letting us cheer you on like crazy people at four years of Cross Country meets.  It was a thrill to see your mind and heart push you all the way to the finish line.

 

Thank you for surrounding yourself with an incredible group of rock solid friends that have enriched your life and our families.  It has been a gift to watch your friendship unfold.

 

Thank you for pushing your creativity and serving in a leadership role for Prep's Film/Photography Club trying with each project to learn, stretch, grow and practice honing your skills. 

 Thank you for continuing to cultivate your faith--serving at the Rosebud Reservation, volunteering to lead retreats, sharing your rose at the dinner table, considering God's plan for your future, and for attending mass and sharing what it means to live a life of service.

 

Thank you for putting your family first and helping to look out for your sisters through rides to and from everything and giving good advice along the way.

 

 

 

There's a million spaces of gratitude that I feel for all that you've brought to my life, to our family, and to the world during your 18-years on the planet, but you know me, I have to leave you with a few words as you register to vote, get ready to walk across the commencement stage, sign your acceptance letter to your future college, maybe meet the one just for you, and carve a life of your choosing...

• Wherever you go and whomever you meet, remember who you are.  You have an incredible compass--trust it--you will know when to capitalize on a situation or to run like Hell, and when you don't, call home--we'll talk it through.
• Say yes more than you say no.  It's easy to think that something won't work and that you're not the kind of person who does this or works there or says that---but the truth is, you don't know until you try.  The great illusion is permanence.  Nothing remains the same.  You can always course correct.  And if you take the risk, you will learn something about yourself.  Nothing is wasted.  
• You are worthy. Period.  If anyone tries to convince you otherwise, politely excuse yourself.  You have one precious life.  Live it, fully.  No one gets to make you small or diminish your possibilities in this big world that has room for everyone.
• Nothing that is worth it is easy.  Put the time in.  Commit.  Stretch yourself.  You won't be disappointed.
  
• Live life with a servant heart.  Everyone in this world is valuable.  Give much more than you take.
• Remember to say please and thank you, always.  No excuses.
• Trust that God is with you in every encounter and that when it feels hard, all you have to do is reach out and ask for guidance, and sooner, rather than later, you realize that no matter where you go and or what has happened, you're never really alone.
• It's okay to miss home.  It's always okay to come home.  But before you do, have an adventure first.  Good things happen to those who get out of the house and off their phones.
• If I text you too much, it's because I love you and I'm practicing boundaries.  Thanks in advance for the grace and love.

I think this is the beginning of the list.  I'm sure I'll have many more before we pack the van and drop you off at school, but until then, wow, just wow, 18-years!  I can hardly believe it.  Happy Birthday to my first born, one and only son---I could not love you more.

 

Love, Mama

 

 

 

 

 

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