the weekends...

Some weekends leave you rested, and other leave you breathless... and honestly, I don't know which I love better.

A quiet Friday night can ooze into a Saturday, where I find myself stretched out on the couch arguing with the day. The sunshine and blue sky call me to play, but there seems to be nothing I want more that to sit in the stillness, and enjoy the view of the beauty. Basking in the warm light, letting the cool breeze waft in seems not a waste at all. My hands may pick up a book or a discarded project, the laundry spins, a sappy t.v. movie calls to us... and maybe we trek down the road for a walk in the woods.

Sunday morning pancakes and a trip to the store, with a little more lazy afternoon rest. Sometimes just us is all we need, and tucking ourselves away from the world feels just right. Monday comes and we are rested, centered for the week.

Last weekend? Breathless.

The clock couldn't find its way to quitting time fast enough, and before six, we had made a wardrobe change and a quick turn around, back out the door, for a party under the lights and stars. What a night! Family and friends. Food and drink. Dancing and lights and fun... all in one of our most favorite places. Saturday afternoon we said yes to a last minute invitation to basketball and an afternoon with friends, because...why not? We knew by the time we were home, we'd still have an hour or so before making good on on our long overdue (three years?) bowling date! We laughed into the night, knowing a bowling league wasn't for us after all - we're much better at wine club. Of course, Sunday afternoon finds us pressing to get ready for the new week, accomplishing all that tasks we had set side to make room for play... but all the while, the happy glow of the days before lingers loud. Monday comes, and we are still reveling in the fun of the weekend.

Breathless or rested? Somehow I think each speaks its own to a life well lived.

my cathedral...

Perhaps most moms-to-be hope for one of each... a girl and a boy. But, I had such vivid memories of my childhood best friend and her brother fighting, fists and teeth and loud words, that I was scared of that dream. I thought that was the way it was, would be. And then... here I was, with a baby brother for my little girl. I knew that I didn't want what I already knew of brother/sister relationships, and somehow in that, God helped me create something beyond my wildest dreams.

A couple of weeks ago my sister re-posted a monologue by Nicole Johnson, The Invisible Woman. I have seen her perform it a few times, and I believe she has written a book about it. Re-reading the words brings me right back... to the days when so much was asked of me, and I felt overwhelmed and under-qualified. The days I felt I wasn't included because I was a Mom... with kids who would need to tag along. All the times when I just couldn't answer one more question, or feel one more touch. Motherhood can be wonderful and terrible all at once.

But these two have brought me more joy that I could have known. God showed grace upon grace through the seasons of bickering, and now, as I have said time and time again, their chatter is my favorite thing. When they would be getting ready for school, in the backseat, on the phone... I am so thankful that they will always have the other - to talk with, to be championed by, to laugh with, to hold each other up. They are silly, and quirky, and two halves of my heart. If I have done nothing else right, there is this...

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we’re

doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel,

not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the

world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers.” -Nicole Johnson

tale as old as time...

I love a handmade gift, and this new one has joined the other heirlooms that hang on the branches of our family tree. This is Laura's first attempt at wood burning and I love the result. She knows our love story, and I think it is beautiful that she celebrates it. 

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This summer, twenty-seven years after our wedding dance, he spun me in his arms again to Beauty and the Beast... this time under the stunning chandelier in the Grand Floridian Hotel. We were one monorail stop away from his 50th birthday dinner, just sipping on an icy beverage, enjoying the jazz band play when we heard those first few notes of our song. He knew he couldn't refuse...

The atrium of the Grand Floridian is beyond lovely, the way the way the ceiling almost touches the sky, and the railings run the edges like lace. It feels as magical as Cinderella's Castle, and each exquisite detail feels like a dream. Of course, being in his arms is my dream... and I'm wide awake.

the art of floating...

When was the last time you did nothing? I mean really nothing.
These days, even as I sit and watch TV, or am resting on the couch, I find myself multitasking. I make my hands busy with a crochet project, or I am scrolling through my darn phone... it seems I hardly ever give my mind complete rest, even knowing my soul needs it.

For the past couple of months, many of our Sunday afternoons have included a trip over to my in-laws with our pool floats... to simply float. I love the feeling of the cool-ish water and the warm sunshine, and stretching my arms out, I surrender to rest. My mind empties and and I am somehow able to let go of every care, listen to nothing, and let myself be at whim to the wind. I love this time we have purposefully been carving out, practicing rest... time to be still.  

How sweet to be a cloud, floating in the blue.

-A. A. Milne

along the side of the road...

He shakes his head, rolls his eyes, and tells me no... but sometimes he stops anyway. This past spring we were driving through the center of the state and the scent of orange blossoms in the air was overwhelming. You know, that scent speaks to my soul... the breath of Jesus. As I longingly gazed at the groves that run along both sides of the country highway, I also looked for a spot I could ask him to stop. I knew he'd think safety first! and possibly be completely unwilling to pull the car over onto the shoulder. But... in the endless ways he shows his love for me, he did it anyway.

 

I was giddy! I dashed my way through the sugar sand and buried my nose deep in the blossoms. It was glorious... in every way. I quickly tried to document the beauty and the moment, all the while knowing he was waiting, impatiently, in the car just beyond me. Sometimes it's hard to stuff all that joy into a four minute stop, but I did my best! And... as we rolled along the rest of the way, the view of the trees through the window seemed more.

Last Sunday, I asked again for a roadside stop...
He made some ridiculous statements about me getting hit by a car, and I rolled my eyes. Eventually, after a u-turn, he did stop for me, and I took a couple of pictures of the water rushing over the weir.

We wait for this every year... when the rains come heavy and fast, and the back canal wears down the earth and breaks through to the front. The birds splash in it, and sometimes a big gator lounges right in the center of the stream. Two years ago the development behind the canals worked very hard to stop the rushing flow, pushing in stones and dirt and flattening it over with the steamroller. It almost broke my heart... but the rains are faithful, the power of the water stronger than the will of man.

Love, like a river, will cut a new path whenever it meets an obstacle.

-Crystal Middlemas

twenty-five {now 27} beautiful years

Today we will we celebrate twenty-seven years... quietly.
No gifts, no cards. Just a whole lot of living. I found two anniversary posts in my drafts...I suppose I didn't get around to ever posting either of them. But now? Updated and posted for posterity {and your reading pleasure!}

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Two years ago was our big to-do, a silver spectacular. Twenty-five.
We celebrated while we were up in Orlando for Eric's FASRO conference. A little get-away, casual nights out, and... a progressive dinner adventure around the most magical place on earth.

I'm not sure how I heard about this event, but ever since my first progressive dinner during my middle school youth group years, my ears perk up at the mention of one. And the thought of this dinner, around the loop of the monorail, just delighted me!

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There are moments in your marriage that seem almost surreal. Like when you realize you've been together longer than you haven't, and when you hit a milestone anniversary that seems as if it would belong to grown-ups.

Twenty-five years.
The years that seems like yesterday & forever, the years that have been a lifeline and a challenge. The years you wouldn't trade for anything on this earth. The years that speak: I am me, and he is he... but together we are more.

We celebrated extravagantly... a progressive dinner at Disney, around the monorail loop. It was so special... to do something just for us, and at the same time, share the celebration (tour!) with people we had just met. Four hours of dining adventure with all the special treatment you'd wish for.

Like a private monorail car just for the tour!

We met up with our tour at the Contemporary Hotel in a the very blue Wave Lounge! We were greeted with drinks and were encouraged to mingle with the other people on the tour. And then, I actually ate pea soup... and liked it! 

We hopped on the {private} monorail and were whisked off to the Polynesian Resort. I had a delicious margarita (because I was allergic to the pineapple in the Mai Tai!) and we had three appetizers - sushi (a first!), a golden beet, and some kind of pork belly. I loved being in this group of new people with my husband, and being an adventurous eater!

Next Stop? 

The Grand Floridian for a cheese course, with Happily Ever After Champagne, and our main course at Citricos. It was all really delicious, and paced perfectly! Even the beverages!

And our final stop was for fireworks at the end of the night with beautiful desserts... we loved every minute of our anniversary adventure!

Twenty-five years.

Of love and laughter, and faith that carries us through the tough times - when the love doesn't seem very lovely and the laughter turns to tears. He is my forever hero, the love of my life, the one who made all my dreams come true.

queen of hearts...

Could it be that hearts are my love language?
I am always on the lookout for heart-shaped beauty... and when I find it? I'm giddy.

The other night Eric called me out to the grill...

He loves me, he knows me.
Am I the only woman who would swoon over a heart-shaped burger?

When joy is a  habit, love is a reflex.

-Bob Goff

twenty-four years...

We decided to celebrate a day early, because, why not? We started the day off at our favorite breakfast spot (we were in the area) then moved on to errands and groceries. It is the love wound through daily life that makes twenty-four years so beautiful.

After we whispered goodnight, I said I didn't get you a card, so don't get me one. He laughed back I didn't. So, is the romance gone after all these years? Not at all. It is found in the doors held open, taco Tuesdays, the key tumbling in the lock, the sharing I love yous in the mess of midweek... the being home to one another.

It was a beautiful anniversary celebrating this beautiful life.

days to waste...

The weekend was full, as it always is.
Somehow, even on the nothing to do days, we find some way to fill them.

I still can't get used to the fact that we have weekends with nothing to do. No kids to tote here or there. No band to cheer for. No pressing schedule. One of these days we will find a cause, but for now, we rest a rest that includes not-too-many obligations. As much as I lived for the hustle and bustle of the high school years, this is bliss.

We have time to go two hours early for a two hour parade...

We can say yes to a basketball game invite, last minute or not...

or we can just stay home and do nothing together.

Sometimes we just waste the day away... except I don't think it is a waste at all, as long as we are together. I really didn't think I would like this stage of my life... but I really, really do.

coming home...

All I really wanted to do was see the mountains... I talked about it for months. On our way north, we planned to stop and admire them, but a storm swept through and as we drove uphill and down, all we could see was sheets of rain and faint tail lights ahead of us. Maybe on the way home. 

We left Chicago with our weather apps open, watching Hurricane Erika... hoping we could make it back ahead of her. Before the end of the day though, she had broken up and drifted far into the Gulf. We were happy to slow our pace just a bit and Eric decided it would be okay to detour down into Gatlinburg.

We arrived in time for a little fun at OberGatlinburg...

the last time i went down an alpine slide was three days before i started 7th grade!

And in the morning, the shortest path home was up and over the mountain. As we drove up, the beauty took my breathe away. And when he said Let me know if you want to stop at an overlook, my eyes must have danced. Six overlooks later he was probably sorry he had offered, but that is one of the things you do for love. {Or maybe mostly so I would stop complaining about not having time to stop when we drove through in 2005.}

I think he thought I might have been kidding when I said I never thought I would see this beauty, but I wasn't. Every view was postcard perfect and I was in awe of how God made the peaks and folds of our beautiful earth. That He would do this just so our eyes could take in such an amazing sight... it made me giddy. 

The dramamine I took for the curves of the mountain roads kicked in and I slept on and off most of the day... Eric was wide awake though, and I was thankful he could put the miles behind us.  When we finally made it into Florida, with many hours still ahead of us, and the promise of heavy rain bands headed our way, we stopped for one last night. For a moment, I wondered if I was afraid to go home. But after a good night's rest, a few more hours of driving, and a stop at the grocery store, there we were. Home. And it was a-okay. 

Home is where love resides, memories are created, 

friends are always welcome, and family is forever.

{even if one of them has run off to Iowa}

love...

This is one of my most favorite pictures. Ever.

You are precious in every way, the sunshine in my day,

the joy in my soul, and the love of my life.

after the goodbye...

He came up with the perfect idea before it ever crossed my mind. I'm not sure when, or if, it ever would have. I'm sure he was thinking survival when he said What if we drive to Chicago to see Amy after we drop Cam off?  Usually I plan these kinds of things in the secret of my mind, and drop almost invisible hints until he comes around to thinking it was his idea, but this time?  All him. There is more than one reason he is my hero.

It took us exactly 4 hours and 10 minutes to arrive at their door... dinner was ready, and they had already poured the champagne. What a way to celebrate friendship, Camden's adventure, and us being able to drive away with a smile! We spent two days in Chicago, enjoying our friends and the city, complete with lovely fall weather.

 

I think it was the anticipation of this trip that got me through the goodbye. Otherwise, I'm not sure I could have handled driving off in the empty car, headed to our almost empty home. Thank you, my dear, for knowing me so well...

journey to a smile...

The pains started about two weeks ago. The clutch in my chest. The sting of tears behind my eyes. He is really leaving...

We were in the kitchen starting dinner and I told Eric I'm starting to get sad. With love and knowing in his eyes, he replied I was wondering when, and he kissed the top of my head. We both know life will be different with our easy-going, adventurous son half-way across the country.

Breathe in. Breathe out.
In. Out. Just keep breathing.

The breathing is working, the sadness has been shoved back behind the to-do list. Even his almost empty room seems okay. But today, the pains return stronger and closer together. Familiar... and I realize the laboring wasn't really over eighteen Decembers ago.  That finally now, almost nineteen years later, I must be prepared for that final push.

He leans his head onto my shoulder and it has a sweetness that seems to move me more than all the times I could hold all of him in my arms.

Breathe in. Breathe out.
In. Out. Just keep breathing.

Three farewell dinners, and between grandparents, we celebrated Friday pizza on a Wednesday. An ordinary evening in the mist of an extraordinary week. It is just what we needed. And those two... they sat and visited and played video games between slices, just as they have for twelve years. Boys to men. They wished each other well and sealed their friendship with a firm handshake.

Breathe in. Breathe out.
In. Out. Just keep breathing.

The list still lingers and Eric is out mowing the lawn. Cam and I find jobs we can do while we watch the last episode of Food Network Star. He looks at me sitting on the floor folding laundry and pats the seat beside him. For a moment I am torn, because the list, but I come to my senses and join him on the couch. It is only seconds before he leans fully into me, his head fitting just right into the crook of my neck. My chest is crushed with love and I try to hide my gasp for breath... and one lone tear escapes, leaving the others to burn. The mower continues to make loops around the yard and I feel almost guilty for sitting, but oh I cannot give up these minutes. Surely I am the luckiest mom in the world.

Breathe in. Breathe out.
In. Out. Just keep breathing.

Cam, are you ready for this adventure? he asks as we pull out of the driveway and begin the drive north. Of course he answers the only way he knows how Yes! It makes me smile knowing this is the honest truth. But when the next question comes from Eric, I pinch back tears. Is mom ready? I say Yes, because I want nothing to come between my son and his dreams.

The Iowa sunshine welcomed us to the land of corn, and we laughed as we put miles behind us. There is always fun to be had on a road trip. And then I saw the sign, Mount Vernon 8 miles, and all of the tears I had been holding back for weeks could not be held a moment longer.

  



He was good to me. He smiled for every picture; he let me take as many as I wanted. And then it was time... to say goodbye. I took his face in my two hands and repeated the goodbye I've uttered a million times before Make good choices, be YOU, I love you...

As he walked off into the sunshine, I saw him as the man he has become... and it made me smile.