Funny Guy Friday… Valentine's Day highlights...

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband, Mark. So… I married a funny guy...
     About a year ago, we were getting ready to go to Matthew's baseball game, and Grace informed us that she was going to stay home. This was not unusual, as Grace enjoys her time alone and must get tired of going out to the field every night. After the game, we returned home, and Grace came bouncing down the steps and greeted me with a cheery hello.
     This was a little unusual because at that time she was fourteen years old, was rarely cheery and…really enjoyed her time alone, not being cheery, by herself. What a great age for girls!
     She hopped into the kitchen and greeted her mother in a similar fashion and I heard  Cheryl return the greeting in her typical upbeat tone. Then things got ugly! And I mean U… G… L… Y... UGLY.
     Cheryl turned from doing the dishes to give Grace a hug and stopped in her tracks. Are those highlights in your hair? 
     Why yes, yes they are. Do you like them? 
     I specifically told you that you were not to highlight your hair. You deliberately disobeyed me.
     No I didn't. You told me that I could.
     I never told you that you could. In fact, I told you that you could not, and you did it anyway. 
     Mom, you told me I could. I swear you did. 
     At this point, I took cover in the dining room waiting to chime in, but Cheryl seemed to have things well under control. It's funny because I am by far, the bigger disciplinarian when it comes to the every day things. I have zero tolerance when the kids raise their voices, talk back, disobey or reply with smart-alecky comments. Cheryl tends to put up with those things---to a point---before she brings the hammer down.
     On the other hand, if the kids want to watch a movie or go somewhere, they bypass dear ol' mom and ask me. I tend to be a little bit more lenient about those types of things. Cheryl looks up every movie on a website that I have dubbed www-dot-you can't watch it-dot-com. On the other hand, I base my decision on whether I would like to see the movie myself. Not really effective as a screening mechanism, but at least I get to see some movies that I like. We have our different parenting styles, but it seems to work.
     Anyway, as I hid in the dining room, I could not help but think that there had to be a misunderstanding. Grace had to know that her mom would notice the highlights. I mean, I didn't notice, but I am an idiot when it comes to stuff like that. For instance, Cheryl has a rule that Grace can only wear eye shadow, but not eye liner. I don't know the difference between the two, so Grace could look like a mime and I wouldn't take note. Every time I try to tell her she shouldn't have any eye stuff on, she tells me that it is okay and that I have no idea about those types of things!
    As the heated discussion continued between Grace and Cheryl, I decided to get involved and called Grace into the dining room. I was probably much calmer than she had anticipated, but I was sure the whole was just a misunderstanding. I asked her if there was any way that she could have misunderstood her mother. There was no misunderstanding, she whispered, she told me I could put highlights in my hair. The whispering had me a bit confused, but I was not confused for long.
    As those words left her lips, Cheryl came flying into the dining room like she had been shot out of a cannon. Is that your story? Is that what you want us to believe? You have been asking for months to have highlights in your hair and I have said no every time. Do you think that if I had all of the sudden changed my mind and told you that you could do it, that you wouldn't have jumped right out of your seat and run upstairs to do your hair right away. Then she went in for the kill. Why did you wait until we all left the house for two hours to do this? 
     GAME. SET. MATCH.  I have seen some good cross examinations in my day, but this was as good as it gets. Cheryl stood staring at her defeated daughter like a lion stands over a dead gazelle. I swear, I thought she was going to take a bite out of her, had Grace not sulked on up to her bedroom.
     Now it came time to dole out the punishment. I went to her room, as she lay in bed crying, and gave her one more chance to come clean and tell me she did not have her mother's permission to give herself highlights. Tearfully, she confessed.
     What to do, what to do.
     I told her that she could no longer use her cell phone, and that she could no longer use her computer and she was grounded. For how long? she whimpered.
     I thought hard and long before I told her that she was on both actual and electronic lock down until her hair grew back out to its natural color.
     That could be months, she lamented.
     Really, who knew? As you know, I have no idea about those types of things. Perhaps, you should have thought about that before you disobeyed your mother. Good night blondie!
      After about four weeks, Grace was still apologetic. She took her punishment like a man---albeit a man with blond highlights in his hair---and complained very little. She insisted that she was not a bad child and we all agreed. Unfortunately, she had made a very big mistake. After that, Cheryl and I decided to let the restrictions end. As we discussed the whole thing, we also decided that her hair looked pretty good with those highlights---but we didn't tell her that---not until this past Tuesday.
     Tuesday was Valentine's Day. I had not even thought about what to get the kids or get Cheryl until Tuesday morning. I tried to order an edible fruit arrangement, but they were not taking orders after noon on Valentine's Day. Gee, do people actually plan for this stuff ahead of time?
     Okay, Plan B---Call Cheryl and treat her and Grace to an outing at the beauty salon for some pampering. As a special bonus, tell Grace she can get highlights in her hair. After all, she has been doing all of the right things this past year. She is responsible and helpful. Plus, it is fun to surprise her.
     She loved her afternoon out with her mom, and they both looked prettier than ever. Not sure what I will do for Gracie next Valentine's Day, but I am pretty sure that I heard her mom and her discussing tattoos?? I sure hope that doesn't turn out to be just another misunderstanding.

Beautiful Gracie with her new highlights

Funny Guy Friday… Theresa, I take it all back...

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband, Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
     At some point in everybody's life, people make sacrifices for others. We do it for friends, we do it for family and at times, we do it for strangers. Typically, they are small things like giving someone a ride, changing plans to accommodate others, delivering a meal or babysitting at the last minute.
     Recently, I learned about a sacrifice that my sister-in-law Theresa is about to undertake, and I must admit it is no small thing. I don't know all the specifics, because she has been "under the radar" with this. But not knowing the specifics in the past, has never stopped me from writing as if I do know the specifics. So here is what I think that I know.
     About a year ago, Theresa got a call from a woman friend whose husband was not doing well due to problems with his kidneys, and without a transplant, he would not survive. Theresa had lived with this couple when she was 19 years old. These folks were very kind to her at a time when she needed someone to be kind to her. They eventually became Godparents to Theresa's and my brother Jeff's oldest son.
     This call started the ball rolling on a plan that will come to fruition on February 6th---Theresa is going to donate one of her kidneys to help save this man's life.
     She spent last weekend at Duke University Medical Center undergoing the last tests to ensure that she is a good candidate. On a side note, I hate Duke so much that if I had to be treated at that facility I would be like Wesley in Princess Bride and demand "DEATH FIRST." I'm sure it is a good hospital but c'mon, it's Duke.
     Theresa is overjoyed that the last test came back positive, or negative. I am not sure which (remember that detail thing I talked about in the a previous paragraph), but whatever the result, she is, in fact a good candidate for the surgery. It is one of the most selfless things that a person can do, and I must say, I am very impressed. I ask that you keep her and her grateful friends in your prayers.
     
     Anyway, some of you may not have heard the story of how Theresa and I met. As I recall, we first met in the halls of our high school back in 1979. As the story goes, she would wait for me after my typing class and I would carry her books to our next class. Other students in the hallway would look admiringly at me as I, a mere sophomore, would walk the halls with a Senior---who happened to be a female, and not a bad looking female either. I was awesome.
     Alas, the relationship didn't last as she had eyes for another---my big brother. Others have suggested that she may have been using me to get to my big brother, but I am going to give her the benefit of the doubt. I was hard to resist. In fact, I don't want to brag or anything but back in the day I was "Kind of a Big Deal." I started that year as the back up to the back up point guard on the J.V. basketball team but by the end of the year I was the sole back up to the point guard on the J.V. basketball team. And if that wasn't enough, I was the starting shortstop on the J.V. baseball team and I dressed out for most Varsity games. Seriously, does it get any better than that?
    What's that? My brother was captain of both the varsity basketball team and the varsity baseball team? And he started on each team all three years he was there? Really? Really?!
     Wow, maybe she was using me!
     To be fair, she has a different recollection of our brief romance. She says that she was already dating my brother and was "just being nice" to her boyfriend's little brother. I'm not buying that "just being nice" line. I was there and I know what I thought I saw. Besides, who are you gonna believe, a guy who is keeping all of his major organs intact, in his own body? Or someone crazy enough to voluntarily give up one of hers. Case closed!
     Theresa and I have had a history of sparring mentally and I must say that I have dominated that competition. As my primary nemesis in life, I have formulated certain opinions and may have said some things about her that I now regret. Theresa's life giving sacrifice has now changed some of these opinions and I would like to take this opportunity to clear the air and publicly set the record straight. So, Theresa… This is for you...
   
     First, there were many occasions when I witnessed discussions between you, your husband and your sons about various sporting events. Typically, this would occur after a big game, and you would throw in your two cents with some cockamamie strategy that you would have used had you been the coach. I must admit that there were times that I would roll my eyes behind your back at some of the things you would say. Now that I know you are donating a kidney, I realize that you were right and that you do know more about baseball than your husband and your sons. I am sorry I rolled my eyes. Perhaps, someday, your husband and sons will also realize that their eye rolling was uncalled for.
    Second, there were many occasions where you would give me advice about relationships that more often than not ruined whatever relationship that I happened to be in at the time.  I used to think that you purposely sabotaged these relationships. Now that I know that you are donating a kidney, I realize that you gave good sound advice and that it was not intended to ruin my relationships because you harbored some false notion that you could have me for your own someday. Although I will say, thank goodness I didn't dump Cheryl like you had suggested. After asking Cheryl to marry me after only six weeks of dating, I believe your exact quote was, "Are you out of your mind?" Again, now that I know you are donating a kidney, perhaps I was a bit premature with my proposal.
    Third, your devotion to your sons is unquestionable, but at times, I must admit that I did question whether you were a bit over-protective of the lads. Chasing down 50 cent balloons throughout the neighborhood, challenging game officials to fights, challenging coaches to fights (forget about the fact that most of the time their coach was their father), or dressing them in some ridiculous costume to curry favor from their teachers or sympathy from their friends. It all just seemed so unnecessary to me at the time. But now that I know that you are donating a kidney, I see clearly that your boys needed all the help they could get just to survive. What a bunch of losers!
     Finally, you used to be loud and opinionated. Now that I know that you are donating a kidney, you are……………well, you are…………..well, you are still kind of loud and opinionated but your opinions are correct. I guess.

     There, that just about does it. Keep in mind that we kid because we love.
     In all seriousness, a decision like this is not to be taken lightly. I have talked to my brother and to Theresa and it is clear that she never hesitated in her desire to help this man and would have been terribly disappointed had it not been possible. I always think that I would react similarly if presented with the opportunity. But I also always say it is an easier decision to make when it is only a hypothetical. Theresa was presented with a real opportunity, and she responded like a hero.
     The last thing I will say about this topic is that if Theresa really wants to put the icing on the cake and make what I would consider to be the ultimate sacrifice, she would offer up…….right now with no questions asked…...her other kidney to me in the event that I ever needed an extra one.
     Now that kind of sacrifice would make her a super hero!

Funny Guy Friday... Missing my dad...

    Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband, Mark. So, I married a Funny Guy!
     Friday after Thanksgiving, I did what I always do on Black Friday---I brighten up the day by putting up our Christmas lights. 

     Every year, I drag my lights out of the attic and out of the basement---I have a lot of lights----and I call my dad and ask him to come over to help with the ladder. He was always more than willing to come and offer his assistance. In fact, it was kind of embarrassing the first time he came over because I had no idea how to work the extension ladder, and I was scared to death to get up there and hang lights on the high gutter. Regrettably, I did not take that class in Law School. So, after watching me on my first trip up that first year, my dad took over the entire operation.

     The first few years in my current home, if my dad were in a hurry, he would ask me to invite my brother over to help. This was complete and utter humiliation for me, as I was then reduced to getting coffee for them as they put up my lights. 

     My brother is a complete show-off because he is able to get up on the roof and parade along the edge like a cat. I have actually tried to prevent this because I can't even stand to watch it. At this point, I am always ordered to go inside while they work. Here I am, a grown man in my own house, being put in a time-out by my dad. Humiliating! By the way, I hate cats.

     As the years passed, and my dad got older... and I got more comfortable going up and down the ladder... I would still call him to ask if he could come and help. 

     He always came. And he always held that ladder. I think he would have been offended had I not called. 

     Even though he passed away in March, I still called my mom when it came time to put up the lights. Ever protective of her baby boy, she suggested that I call my brother. Even she knows how helpless I am. 

     I assured her that I would be okay and that I would recruit some helpers. We then both agreed that my dad would have gladly come over to help if he were still here. There are a lot of things that I loved about my dad, and his willingness to drop everything to come over and help was one of his greatest qualities.

   

     Well, the lights still needed to go up, so I had to rely on my immediate family members, whom I love dearly, to help with the ladder. 

     My son Matthew was the first person to offer his assistance. I do not own a ladder, so I borrow my neighbor's. Everyone on our street knows it is Christmastime when they see me tiptoeing through the neighborhood with another man's extension ladder.

     Matthew was great at first, but then he started darting in and out of the house. It seems that the Michigan/Ohio State game was on TV, and the results of that game were more important than dear old dad plummeting thirty feet to a certain death. Matthew assured me that the fall wouldn't be so bad. He was probably correct; the fall would not be so bad, but I am pretty sure that the sudden stop would have been a problem.

     I really did not have too much of a gripe with Matthew going in and out because the first section that I do is above the flat part of the patio, and the ladder stays pretty straight. I really needed help moving the ladder and having someone hold the ladder as the walkway slopes downhill. That section comes at the very end of the process. No problem. My lovely wife was now on the job. 

     We soon had to maneuver the ladder down a step and work down an incline. This is definitely a two-person task. In the middle of us both moving the ladder, the phone rang. Just so you know, seventy-five percent of the time, my wife just lets the phone ring and never answers it. And she only answers it if she can actually find a phone to answer---it rarely makes it back onto the cradle. Her refusal to answer the phone and the fact that phones never make it back to the cradle usually drives me crazy.

     Anyway, on this day, at this time, in the middle of moving a ladder that is extended to the tippy-top of the roof, my wife decided that she was going to take this call. She literally dropped everything, including her hands that were assisting with the ladder, and she dashed into the house. The ladder started to swing and sway as I tried to prevent a disaster. Fortunately, disaster was averted, but my confidence in my ladder-holder was shot. Upon Cheryl's return, she, like Matthew, assured me that falling wouldn't be that bad. I love that my family thinks I bounce like a ball.

     The lights are up. And they look great.

     Putting up lights this year was a different experience without my dad.  I thought of him as I climbed up and down that ladder, and yet I felt an emptiness where he used to stand. I am sure that Christmas will be a little bit different, too, and I will continue to think of him. In fact, had I fallen off of that stupid ladder, my final thought would have been I wish that my dad were here! 

     That thought may be a familiar refrain this Christmas season.      

I'll walk in the rain by your side...

    "The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain." ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ~

     The long-awaited family photo shoot came and went last Tuesday. My entire side of the family was together all at the same time. Very difficult to do.
     So what if it rained.
     If you ask me, there's something about the rain that is soothing and romantic. But traipsing around town in it with 25 people has its challenges. Still, everyone was relaxed and had fun.

     This event was a gift for my parents. I thought my mom looked so pretty. Dad looked great, too.

        And the grandchildren were having a good time. Can you tell?

      Here we were back at my parents' house... the home we grew up in. All gathered together once more.

     This one was just my parents and brother and sisters. Seemed like old times.

     As picture day approached, and I saw day after day that the forecast called for rain, I was anticipating an artsy, rainy day shoot that would give us images we would not otherwise ever get. I think I may have been the only one excited about the rain. And when it came time for our individual family shot, the skies opened up, and it poured. Ours was the only family it did that for. God gets me.

 

"It's not raining to me
It's raining daffodils
With every dimpled drop I see
Wildflowers on a distant hills."
~ Robert Loveman ~

"... And I'll sing you the songs of the rainbow
A whisper of the joy that is mine
The leaves will bow down when you walk by
And morning bells will chime."
~ John Denver ~ 

     A special thank you to our photographer Erin Granzow, assisted by her lovely daughter... troopers both. Your relaxed and cooperative spirit helped make our day so very special. 

Remembering Mark's dad...

     Remembering Mark's dad, and all of our veterans... today... and every day.

A band of angels...

     For the past two days, my sister Karen, has come over to help me with my housekeeping projects. Sorting. Purging. Donating. Organizing. Cleaning.
     Karen is my hero.
     If you saw Funny Guy Friday last week, you know that I was in the middle of a total laundry re-do. Now, I am almost finished. Only the clothes that the kids actually wear are in their rooms. The laundry has been done. Even the socks have been paired, and the lonely ones are history. The books have been thinned out. Eight bags of trash have been discarded. And my refrigerator-freezer is old-food-free and sparkling.
     Without Karen... except for some help from Noah, my most willing and frequent helper... and Gracie, my most capable helper... and the occasional distribute-the-laundry help from Matthew... it was pretty much four against one around here. We had sort of developed a "drop and go" routine, so often there was stuff everywhere.
     But Karen is a force to be reckoned with.
     She sees the big picture, and takes on every task with determination. She barrels right through each project. And she doesn't allow me to zig-zag.
     Oh, she is good.
     And yesterday... Bonus... She brought her nine-year-old daughter Elaine to help. Elaine helped Gracie clean and organize her room. And she never complained.
     Like mother, like daughter.
     I told my kids that the next time I ask them to straighten up, if they dare to say, "But I didn't mess it up!" I will remind them of Elaine helping solely because there was a job that needed to be done.
     Thank you Karen and Elaine. When I needed an angel, you were there. My own little kiddies stepped up as well and did what needed to be done... as well as Karen's two little sons, who played happily and quietly while we worked away. Angels all.
     Oh, and just a thank you to the perpetual angel that is my mother-in-law. She dropped by in the midst of this Karen-clean-fest, and as usual, bellied up to the sink with her usual cheerfulness to do some dishes. Laundry is her normal task, but it was done!

     Update... 10:30 pm Friday night... Karen came back again today... much to my surprise and relief. I really needed her. She just left after helping me for about twelve hours. I told her to go home to her hubby. He's a blessed man to have her for his wife. I'm blessed more... I've known her longer.
     Fourteen bags of trash, and twelve bags/boxes of giveaways and I'm still not done. Stay tuned. 

Happy Birthday Matthew...

     Today, you are eleven. You have always been a great son and a blessing!
     Here are eleven things I love about you, in no particular order...
     You are kind ~ You are thoughtful ~ You are funny ~ You give great hugs ~ You are humble ~ You love to play and have fun ~ Your gifts are always so thoughtful ~ You are faith-filled, and you love to serve on the altar ~ You are loving to your brother and sister ~ You are respectful and always appreciative ~ And last, but not least, let's face it, you are just plain cute!
      I thank God that He has blessed us with you for our son. I love you. Happy Birthday, Matthew.

Happy Anniversary Honey...

     I can't believe it's been nineteen years!
     I remember our wedding day like it was yesterday.
     I was living at my parents' house, and had awakened that day to Christmas music playing downstairs. I know it was April, but, hey, we liked Christmas music. I sat on the couch in the kitchen and did my nails. The hair stylist came to do my updo. Then, I put on the most beautiful wedding dress I could find, went to the church, and pledged my fidelity to the greatest guy I had ever known.
     Mark... here are 19 things I love about you... in no particular order... Believe me there are many more...
~ your faith ~ your fairness ~ your sense of humor ~ your diligence ~ your friendliness ~ your kindness to kids ~ your love for your family ~ your love for our family ~ your goodness ~ your trustworthiness ~ your love for me ~ your sacrificing ways ~ your knowing the difference between right and wrong ~ your defense of the unborn ~ your humility ~ the way you play with the kids ~ and of course, your bloop bloop eyes ~
     Happy Anniversary. I love you.

Love conquers death...

     On Saturday, my father-in-law passed away.
     I had prayed for so many things for him.
     Healing, if that be God's will. Mercy, in the absence of healing. Peace for him and my mother-in-law. And grace to help us all through this time of his suffering and dying.
     I prayed especially that the Holy Spirit would guide me, and help me to know what to do with regard to my children. How much should they see? Please God, don't let me mess them up. Death is so scary... and ugly... right? Everybody knows that.
     When I shared my uncertainty about what to do with my kids, my brother-in-law Paul commented that, in our culture, we try so hard to hide death, that often, we are unprepared for it when, inevitably, it comes. He said, "This is the time that the grownups get scared, so the kids get scared."
     That was me. I was scared.
     But, I decided to abandon my own understanding... and limited wisdom... and trust the Holy Spirit. And what followed truly amazed me.
     We decided to spend the night on Friday, sensing that the end was close. Plus, Mark was planning to stay, and I wanted to be with him, just in case.
     I had asked the kids what they wanted to do. And they had all clamoured, "Stay."
     I prayed that I would not be scared. And that my kids would be fine.
     I prayed that I would "see Jesus in the dying." That I'd see something beautiful, like I've heard others talk about. Because so far... nothing was beautiful about this process.
     Then I saw it.
     The suffering was indeed ugly. I saw nothing beautiful there... until I studied the faces of the people bedside, gazing at him with a love that said they would trade places with him if they could.
     I watched my mother-in-law kiss his face... and lovingly touch his hair... and faithfully hold his hand. Even as his labored breathing reminded us his time was short.
     I watched my husband, with wet eyes, telling his father that he loved him.
     Mark's brothers and sisters kept vigil, attending to his every need. In-laws and grandkids too. Every last grandchild had made a pilgrimage to visit him one more time, to play cards, or to just hold his hand.
     The hospice workers lovingly helped take care of his body, giving selfless comfort and kindness to a virtual stranger.
     And of course, I watched my children, showing love more than fear, despite his physical condition. Loving him in their own individual ways. Kissing him. Holding his hand. Wanting to be close by.
     Mark's brother Paul is a minister in Washington state. Late Friday night, we had gathered together around PapPap's bed to give thanks, and to bless him with the sign of the cross on his head, his eyes, his ears, his lips, his hands, his feet, and his heart, each time saying, "Into your hands, we commend your servant." My kids stepped right up to take part in this beautiful and consoling rite. We prayed. And we sang a little.
     The next day, just before noon, PapPap snuck his moment of death in quietly, right after his bed-bath... with Mark's mom, Mark's brother Paul and sister Michel there, and then Mark and me entering the room just at that moment. I wasn't even sure that was it. I think I was waiting for a big moment. But that was it. And I was not afraid.
     I went to tell my children, and they came quickly to see him. My six-year-old asked if he could still kiss him. I said, "Of course."
     Mark's brother Paul and sister-in-law Pam groomed him a little, and laid his hands at rest, so he would be presentable to those who would come to see him one more time. And as he lay there, I could not help but marvel at how very peaceful he looked. The more time that passed, the more he looked like how he used to look. Before the suffering.
     The more I looked at him, the more I marveled at him. His skin was flawless. In his suffering, he had looked so old. But now, although he still looked old, he somehow looked so young. I could not help but notice his hands too. Throughout all of the suffering, his face had changed, but his hands had always remained the same. Strong. Giving. Loving.
     As the day went on, more family came. And we cried. And then we laughed, too.
     But there was one thing for sure. Through the laughter, and the tears, there was love. Love filled that room. You could see it on the faces of those that were bedside once more, gazing at him once again, loving him so deeply as to let him go...though painful... knowing he is happy now, enjoying the glory of God that remains our hope, as we stay behind, here on earth.
     And then, with all of us gathered around, Paul anointed him with scented oil. Lovingly anointing his face and chest and shoulders and arms. Praying as he anointed. Honoring him in death, as we did in life.
     My sister-in-law Theresa stood with me later, in the kitchen, and summed it up so perfectly. She said that to look around, what happened there that day just proves what we know to be true... "Love conquers death."
     Death was not the star of the day. Love was. And my children witnessed it firsthand. No need to fear.

"At last God called him saying, 'Good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your Lord.'"
~ St. Bernadine of Siena ~


 

My husband, the Funny Guy...

     Most of what Mark writes about in his Funny Guy Friday posts are silly, ordinary, everyday, slice of life things... But these past few weeks have been anything but ordinary.
     If you follow this blog, you know by now that Mark's dad is dying.
     His kidneys are failing and he has elected to forego the dialysis.
     The first week at home brought a serenity to Mark's dad.
     He was relatively comfortable, maintained his sense of humor, played cards with the kids, and had many visitors. Each and every grandchild came home to visit him one more time. And of course, Mark's siblings were all there.
     Most of the grandkids have returned to their daily routines, many of them, in other parts of the country. After seeing him with everyone, I would say that PapPap was satisfied.
     But these last few days, pain has replaced the serenity, and he is uncomfortable and agitated. It is harder to carry on normally. The easy conversation and the card playing have stopped. And the pain now requires morphine.
     So Mark and his mom and brothers and sisters must now stand by and live through the very worst.
     There are circles of involvement here that cannot be penetrated. The innermost circle contains only PapPap. Him and the Lord Himself.
     The next circle contains Mark's dad and his mom. I call their approach to this the ultimate gift of the magi, because of their love for each other. He would love to just let go and be with God in the glory of Heaven, but would hold on for her. And she would love nothing more than to have him around for years to come, but would let him go because she loves him.
     The next circle out includes the kids. Mark and his brothers and sisters. This is their dad.
     I am part of the next circle... the siblings' spouses and the grandkids.
     I cannot penetrate the siblings' circle. I can only be present and do what I can to help.
     Mark is dutiful. He tries to keep life as normal as possible. But I know this is harder for him than even I can imagine.
     Through it all, roles among the siblings have emerged. Some are doers... washing dishes, preparing meals. Others make sure the meds are in order. They consult with the nurses about his condition. Still others sit vigil, praying or making sure he doesn't accidentally hurt himself.
     Mark's role is to try to make everyone laugh. He imitates his dad at the table, asking for pancakes made just the right way. He makes fun of his sister for not hooking up the oxygen the right way. Or he tells funny stories from the past. Or he writes a funny post, even though he doesn't feel much like like laughing.
     Or maybe it's because he needs to laugh.
     I love you Funny Guy. You are a blessing to your family.

Commit to change... More quiet time with Gracie...

     I have to admit... The younger my children, the more time I spend with them at bedtime.
     Gracie is fourteen. In. De. Pen. Dent.
     She amazes me at how she takes care of herself so well. She gets up in the dark, waaayyy before I do... and she gets herself ready for school... and she is out the door, in the dark... and off to the bus. I'm lucky if I get my head off the pillow in time say goodbye to her even once or twice a week.
     And evenings are more of the same. My 10-year-old often needs a little help with his homework. And then, there's reading with my 6-year-old.
     All the while, Grace is moving about quietly, getting her ducks in a row for the next day, getting her shower, getting ready for bed, and finding me wherever I am to give me a good night kiss.
     She often goes to bed sooner than the boys because she starts her day much sooner. So, by the time I have done the bedtime thing with them, and I check on her, she is usually fast asleep by then.
     I quietly whisper, "Love you," anyway, and pull the door behind me as I go.
     Starting this week, I will spend a little more unhurried one-on-one time with her. She is a good girl. I want to hear what she has to say.
     I read somewhere recently that a child opens his heart most, when the lights are out.
     Tonight, I will see.

The Road Less Traveled...

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I...

I took the one less traveled by...

and that has made all the difference."

~ Robert Frost ~

My family. Together along life's path. 

On the road less traveled.

Photographs by Erin Granzow.

A poem from my fifth grader...

     It seems Funny Guy isn't the only other writer in our family. Here is a poem Matthew wrote in school...
I Am From...
I am from the sound of crickets at night...
Home run derbies with my friends...
Kids riding their bikes.
   I am from steamed crabs with old bay and vinegar...
   Grandma's just-right meatballs...
   Cold Ledo's pizza just for breakfast.
       I am from sayings like, "Is your homework done?"...
      And, "Lights out"...
      And, "Do not eat so fast."
          I am from a loving family...
          A funny dad...
         And a loving mom.
             I am from kindness.