Anniversaries

 I tend to notice dates.

Significant dates.

Like anniversaries... of good things or not so good.

It was on this date in 2014 that we let go of something dear.

A cherished place 

Our Christmas tree farm

Our homestead

Our dream house we had built as newlyweds....

...

But now

For the last few weeks

I’ve been noticing something

Some good feelings

That I am starting to feel settled

Feeling at home in the new place

I seem to be feeling inordinately excited about the approaching holidays - and specifically about hosting our family celebrations once again.

This is the first time we’ve had a dining room in a really long time… since we moved out of the big house.  And to again have a fireplace where we can hang the stockings.

Plans are being made.

The menu is coming together.

The turkey has been chosen and is thawing in the fridge. 

Potatoes are being dug from the kids’ garden.  How cool is THAT?!?

...

Somewhere in the midst of the preparations and the good feelings I realized that this was the date of the that closing. That letting go… when we sold the Christmas tree farm.

Back in those days our girls would tell us things that really helped our perspective.

Things like the fact that we could take the good parts with us.

The spirit of the place.

That we could plant life in new places.

We knew they were right.

And now we get to enjoy yet another step of that wonder.

Another phase.

I also find myself remembering last year - the 10th anniversary of that letting go - when we were wishing, wishing… that we could be in our new home for the holidays… waiting for the final approval...  

But that didn’t happen.  

Well, EXCEPT for that one family dinner - and yes, it was take-out because of no working kitchen.

...

But now we are here and feeling at home.

We did it.

Sure enough, we brought "it" with us... that spirit of home.

We’ve planted life - which is already bearing fruit. 

A sense of community, connection, peace, welcome.

…

RIVENDELL

“That house was a perfect house,

whether you like food or sleep or storytelling or singing,

or just sitting and thinking,

or a pleasant mixture of them all.

Merely to be there was a cure

for weariness, fear and sadness.”

- J.R.R. Tolkien

…

How would my dad treat this person?

I am heartbroken these days by the scary things happening to so many people in our world.  I so often wonder what I can do to help… and feel like I can’t do enough.

Today is my dad’s birthdate so I’ve been thinking about him and reading through some things people have said about him - like the former neighbor who said “this world needs more Lee D’Arcy’s” - which reminded me that we can continue his legacy.  The things we saw in him are things that the world needs.  Those things give us an example we can continue.  

I paused to remember some of the comments I often hear repeated about him:

• He always took time to ask how we were doing
• He listened to what mattered to us
• He might disagree with someone but still love them
• He always made me feel special

Sure enough, the tactics my dad practiced could be helpful to the people I know who are struggling or fearful about the future.  Making someone feel special or listened to is definitely a good place to start.

So now I want to read some of these other things I’ve collected about him…

54 years

 Hey Bob Sims, I'm so glad we found each other

...and that we decided to spend the rest of our lives together

... and build a family

But first you surprised me by building us a house!!!

And an amazing house it was!

We took some trips, did some hiking and camping.

Somewhere during those crazy wonderful years, 

we also planted a Christmas tree farm

But then came the day, much to our surprise, when we decided to walk away from that farm and live on the road, here and there, for awhile.

I'm glad we took the chance to collect some more memories in the Dominican Republic...

...but I'm also grateful for that little ole' fifth-wheel RV we found and for the years we lived in that amazing rig.

Thanks for listening to my heart when I realized I needed to get back to Michigan to be near the little guys.

And then I listened to YOUR heart when you felt like you were ready for a project... because you needed something to do with your hands.  It's pretty cool that we have learned to hear each other.

So...we bought a house with "a table big enough for us to all sit..." 

In the meantime, there was more camping and travel and fun with the kids.

Turns out the house project was so much fun that you decided to do another one across the street.  Sure enough you found something ELSE to do with your hands!

I am so terribly thankful for these years together.  

For the wonderful people in our lives

For the miles we have been privileged to travel

For the beaches we've discovered

For the amazing houses you have built and rescued and restored

What a guy!  

Bob the builder

Bob the re-builder

Bob the legend

And I am incredibly grateful that as the seasons come and go...

At the end of the day and the end of our energy...

And it's time for rocking and relaxing...

I'm so stinkin' glad it's still you and me, babe.

Grandma Betty

It is May... so of course I am thinking about my mom... especially today on her birthday.

She was indeed incredible.  Loved by so many... probably because she pretty much loved EVERYbody!

She was a shining example

Of light and cheer

Goodness and courage

Kindness and generosity

Friendship and helpfulness

And... she was famous for her homemade bread!!!

Please excuse me while I peruse a few more of the great photos of her.  Or feel free to follow me back to some of these other posts.  To see them in some semblance of order, you can scroll to the bottom and work your way back up to the top of the page.

25, 50, 75, 100

Today I think about numbers.

I notice numbers.

Numbers often feel significant to me.

Dates, anniversaries, birthdays, goals set and accomplished.

This year we celebrate some nice round numbers in our family.

25, 50, 75, 100!

Our first born marks those first two numbers - last month with 25 years of marriage and next month turning 50.  I suppose it is natural for parents to feel old when our kids celebrate such milestones, but Stacy has always been an old soul exhibiting at least the first two descriptors of that term - maturity and understanding - of someone much older so I am already accustomed to her seeming like more like my peer.

One week from today marks 100 years for my amazing mother-in-law, Betty.  I’ve met only a few centenarians, and have been blessed to know this special one for more than half of that century.

But back to today…

Today we celebrate 

Betty’s son

Stacy’s dad

... on his 75th.

What a guy!!!

Bob the builder

... and re-builder

Teacher

Mentor

Artist

Photographer

Musician

Camper

Adventurer

Husband

Dad 

Foster dad

Grandpa

… and so much more!

I am so glad I have had the privilege to walk beside this dear man for so many of those years.  I could not have imagined how good this journey could be.  

Happy birthday, Bob.

Twenty years

I got the phone call with the dreaded news twenty years ago today.

Yes, it is cancer.  

Two days before Christmas.

Such a diagnosis claims instant power to freeze the frames of your life.

Fear barges into the picture.

Questions cry out.

Priorities shift.

Christmas plans fade into the shadows along with other duties and responsibilities… until slowly… we are somehow able to step out from behind the bad news and go through the motions of the celebration that continues around us.  Life goes on - or so we hope.

I have no idea why I was one of the lucky ones with good outcomes in my treatment plan. No clue why I’m a survivor even while losing dear friends and family members to cancer.

Yes, I am grateful for my good fortune. 

And yes, I am aware of some sense of pressure to live well. 

I often think of those dear ones and wish they could still have that privilege.  What a blessing to have had them in my life and to have learned valuable lessons from every one of them.

Becky 

Jerry

Karin

Jodi

Karina

Ron

I think of others who have also lost dear ones to this awful disease.  

And other diseases.

And reckless drivers.

And acts of war.

Sometimes I don’t know what to do with such sadness.

All I know to do is to care.

To offer kindness and compassion.