On My Brother

Dear One,

       It was so good to get your call yesterday. Your voice carried actual sunlight through the line (or, wireless iphone magical waves, or ... um ...) anyway- hearing you brought sunlight to my heart. Cheesy? Yes. True? 100%.  
       I have missed talking to you. I have missed being a player in your life. Somehow, to my ultimate shame, my own life loomed so large in my vision for a while that yours became all but obscured. forgive me forgive me forgive me
       My own life has, once again, some big changes and challenges barreling down the pike but I want you in on it. And I want to be in on yours, which are no less important or monumental to me. 
       We didn't grow up together in the normal sense of siblings, and I know that has bothered you from time to time. I want you to know though that despite my, advanced age, I find almost daily a new sign of just how much growing up I have yet to do. So... the opportunity is not lost! And I look forward to sharing your mid-life maturation with you as well... decades from now... when it comes. ;) 
       Thanks for taking the time to lean in. This is part of what me leaning back looks like.  Hopefully this letter will find you when you need to hear my voice someday, as I needed yours yesterday, and it will remind you of 2 very important things:
      1) Your sister loves you with all her heart.
      2) That has been and will be true for every moment of your life.


Love,
  me

On Preschool

Dear One,

I promise to make as big a deal over you starting Kindergarten as I have been over your brother starting. 

Love,
Mom ;) 

On Kindergarten

Dear One,
      So. You started Kindergarten today. Daddy and I have been building up this day for months now, in anticipation of how hard change is for you sometimes. Hoping beyond hope to make it as easy a transition as possible for you, our sweet boy. It would seem that some of that effort should have been directed at ourselves. At me, in particular. Thankfully, you were too excited by all that was happening around us this morning to notice how my smile trembled from time to time. Not a tear dropped until you were safely in your seat and I was safely out of sight. Someday you'll appreciate what a feat that was for me.
       I am so proud of you Dear One. I am overcome by the boy you are, and looking forward to meeting the boy you are about to become. Here's hoping you remember at least some of the lessons and truths I've tried to pass on over your "just you and me" years. Such as:
1) Hold God's hand
2) Be Kind, to yourself and others
3) Give the benefit of the doubt
4) Listen
5) Respect
6) Appreciate
and most importantly...

7) You are a joy to me. No matter what you ever do. Or don't do. Just because you ARE. Just because you're you.
You are a joy to me.
I delight in you.
You are precious to me.
I love you.

Forever yours,
     Mom

On Pie

Dear One,
     I'm racing to write this memory down, it's only a couple days old and already one of my favorite and most repeated stories. I was kinda joking when I asked if you wanted to be in the 4th of July Pie Eating contest this year, but I was thrilled to see you thrilled with the idea. I knew it would be flat out hysterical, but had no idea it would be heart-rending as well. 

     Lining up with the other kids, I was surprised to see you were the only 3 year old amongst several 8 and 9 year olds all ready to devour themselves some pie. I thought you might be intimidated and back down. That was silly. You're.... you. 
     Cow Bell rings and face in you go. Licking your way to the aluminum beneath all that chocolate cream.  

Shouts and Cheers fly from my mouth and erupt behind me too as all the parents and spectators urge each of you on to more sugar and faster. This is a new stance for us to take and we delight in it. Soon though, it is over. You do not realize this. In fact, you've just begun to get serious about this pie.

 Turns out it was a tie between two older and bigger boys and, as there is only one trophy, a tie-breaker round is set up. You do not realize this either. You are determined.

The tie is ended, winner awarded, and you continue in blissful ignorance and dogged determination to be the fastest pie eater the world has ever known.

Until finally I am able to wrangle enough of your attention back and tell you that the race is over. At which point, you look up with a face frosted by chocolate and painted with glee to ask...

"Am I the winner?!" 






And I am slain. 
Wrestling between the truth and a lie I land on the truth,
"No, honey, you didn't win." 
--but completely cave as the heartbreak hits you and the tears well, offering up a softer truth on top --
"But you were definitely the fastest 3 year old today!"
Uncertain blue eyes study me. 
Deciding.
Smile returns, all the way up to your dented cheek.
"Yep! I'm the winner!"


Wrong again. 

I am. 


                                                                                         Love,
                                                                                              mom









 

On Wealth

Dear One,
      I've never wished I was fluent in another language more than I did when I met you. What wouldn't I give to know your story?! The lines on your face, that magically smooth rather than deepen when you smile, tell me that your tale would be well worth the hearing. And your smile. I wish I'd been able to capture it on film. It could heal the world. 
    Just before crossing your path, my senses were being inundated with sounds, smells, scents, and textures all brand new to me. Which is why I love to travel, of course, but is also just... a lot... some moments. This is a beautiful island you call home, no question, I've talked with so many people about its splendor. Beaches and fruit laden trees and softly lapping waves...but it nags at me to leave the description there.  It has its scars. (Don't we all?), but  these wounds were new to me, new at least in the way things can be when you know them but don't know them. Knowledge of this strain doesn't come until the textbook is removed and the newscast a memory and the information comes at you first hand, skin on skin, smell on smell, sight on sight.  

     My eyes were stinging from the flood of sunscreen pouring into them as I sweat off my third or fourth SPF application of the day. Everything sticking. My shirt to my chest, my hair to my neck, my thighs to each other ( ugh.) I've never known such hot. I've never been in air so thick you could almost grab enough of it to wring out like a towel. And a rotten fruit smell that doesn't permeate the air by any means but can stagger you with potency from one step to the next before disappearing again, replaced by the burnt-tropical scent of my sunscreen reaching boiling point. Passing homes that would barely pass as sheds here, but with lace curtains hanging in the squares cut out of the aluminum, making windows, begging a breeze. 

    And trash. Nearly everywhere. It pained me to buy the cold soda that was swishing around in my bag on this walk because I knew where it would end up when I was done. The choice being here or on the ground, as best I could tell.

 Then, at about this point, I heard the sounds of children getting out of school. That sound is fairly universal. Skipping and laughing and racing and tagging. Ducking laundry and dodging chickens. Play. Freedom. Joy.

Young girls talked a handsome boy into climbing a tree to get them fresh coconut water.

     Two big grins chased me down with shouts of "Take my picture! Take my picture!"

 And as they ran off, after approving their photo first, my ear latched onto the sound of a young boy laughing, a sound my heart is particularly attune to. Following the path around the bend, you came into sight. Sitting, relaxing with your grandson, the laughing boy, and beaming at him a smile that not just took my breath away, but actually made me forget that I was melting down like a candle just moments before. The ease of your conversation, and the joy he clearly felt just being next to you... it was a richness to rival any on the Forbes list. So taken by the scene, I asked if I could take your picture, (thankfully I knew that much in your language!), and you turned that smile on me with a kind, "si". The photo-taking brought out a more serious look on your face, but the essence of you still comes through I think.

    With a "gracias" and smile of my own we parted, you continuing your story to a sweet faced boy and me listening to his responding laughter catch the coconut breeze and drift down behind me through a lace-curtained cutout, wondering just what it is I now... 
know.

Most Gratefully,

me

On Vacation

Dear Ones,
     
       My goodness do we miss you boys! But we are having so many wonderful adventures and can't wait to tell you all about them when we get back. I'm writing to you from what seems to be a converted chicken coop on the farm, now serving as an internet station. Fairly typical of things on this island I have to say!

We've been snorkeling every day and seen lots of colored fish (no Nemo yet, but we'll keep looking), a stingray, some orange starfish that are as big as daddy's head and even an octupus who was curled up inside the biggest conch shell we've ever seen! Tomorrow Bing is going to take us in the boat out to the reef where we can seen bigger fish and even some sharks! We may go fishing while we're out there and if we catch anything Paola will cook it for us for dinner, isn't that cool?!

We have to walk quite a ways to get to the village for supplies, and then carry them all back-  quite a workout! But there are tons of neat things to see on the way,( as much as I can see anyway from having the sweat pouring down my face and into my eyes - it's HOT here!), we've seen lots of little black lizards, chickens, goats, a cow and an enormous iguana that really took daddy by surprise on our walk. He had black and white stripes and a red tinted comb down his back- very grand looking but we decided not to get too close.

We have a little casita all to ourselves which is nice, although the rooster wakes us up very early every morning since the sun rises around 4:30am here. Last night we were trying to learn how to play Yahtzee and I had a bit of a scare from two Very Big Spiders. Daddy killed them for me because, as you know, he is very brave and bold- just like you two.

Not sure when I'll have the computer to use again, but we'll check in as soon as we can! Mommy and Daddy LOVE LOVE LOVE you both so much!

Love,

me

On Foam

Dear One,


  No, I'm not mad. I think this is an excellent chance to discuss a safety issue I hadn't thought to mention before. Sticking a green foam shark up your nose so far that it can't be seen - is not safe. I'm sure at this point you agree, yes? I'm very sorry you had to spend the night with it up your nose, but since we couldn't see it, I wasn't convinced it was still in there. I'm also sorry for laughing when your dad looked up there with a flashlight and saw the neon green tail was in fact working its way down. Thanks to his steady hands with the tweezers, that shark is no longer swimming up your nasal cavity. Let's not do that again, okay?


Love,
Me

On Growth Spurts

Dear One,


     Ah, my littlest boy, you should know that it is not (only) the peace and quiet of naptime that makes me look so forward to that after-lunch part of each day. It is also the very act of tucking you in and how tickled I am with our daily going-to-bed conversation. Adamantly insisting on sleeping in only your Superhero underpants, you always proceed to stop where you are in the room and specifically point to each limb on your body individually saying, "Mom, I don't want my socks - my socks, my pants- my pants, my shirt-my shirt, I just want my undies."  I smile and do your bidding (not that you expect any less of me) and delight in your youngness. You seem to really believe that if you don't point it out, I will leave you with one pant leg off and the other still on. 
     Today though, as I turned back your covers you looked up and said, "Mom, I don't want my socks, my pants, or my shirt. Can you please help me take them off?" I smiled and did your bidding again (habit at this point), but with a slightly sunken heart. I know that these little milestones of personal awareness and growth spurts of understanding are vital to your health and vitality and development. They all add up over time and will make you into a grown man someday ....wow, thinking that, it's...anyway...  the passing of each youthful perspective though is hard on your mother sometimes. I cherish each step you and your brother take more than you can yet know.
     So, when you are that grown boy, a LONG time from now, and are sitting in your own living room reading through these letters, I trust you will remember that I love
 your toes- your toes, 
your leg -your leg, 
your arm-your arm, 
your hand- your hand
your chest
your neck,
your head,
your smile, your smile, your smile, your smile, your smile, your smile,
your
you.


All along the way,
me

On A Girl's Weekend

Welcome Home Sweetheart!! Can’t wait to see you on  Sunday!!

Here are a few things to help with your boys weekend (hoping this is helpful and not bossy!) :

1)  All their cruisers clothes are folded and ready to go on the bench by the garage door. Their mittens are in the lockers at the Club, but everything else is here.

2)  You’ll need to pack both boys a lunch, thier lunch boxes are laid out on the kitchen counter.

3)  Luke’s babysitter  will meet you guys at the Trailhead at 12:30 and stay there with Luke until 3:30 so that you’ll have time to go and get Vaughn without bringing Luke with you. You’ll need to pick Luke up from mini-cruisers, give him his lunch box and take him to the Trailhead to meet her.

4)  I have frozen pizzas and some P.F. Chang’s stir-frys in the freezer for some toss-in-the-oven type easy dinners.

5)  Naps have been very hit or miss. If they don’t take one,  then it’s all I can do to keep Luke up until 8, but try otherwise he's up and at'em by 5am .

6)   They really enjoy their outside time, usually from 3 to 4 or 5 – but you have to make Luke do it. Once he’s out, he’s great, but he’ll tell (scream) you he doesn’t want to go at first. Ignore him.

7)  If the weather’s really bad and you can’t get outside, I just restocked our arts and crafts supplies for you to bring out. They are in the drawer of the dresser that’s in the toy room. Don’t let the boys see you get them out though, they don’t know that’s were I keep that stuff and I don’t want them breaking into it when I’m not watching.

8)  It’s a weekend so feel free to use as many shows as needed. ;)

9)   Hopefully this helps get you through until  I get home   on Sunday!

Love!

the potentially over-prepared and hyper-controlling one

;) 

On Marriage

 Dear One,
   I'm writing to you today because I've been watching some of the people we know dissolve their marriage, and the chaos of hurts and pains and accusations that are surrounding that whole situation has brought the concept of Marriage to the forefront of my mind lately. And when I think about marriage, it's obviously all about you. 
   We don't have the perfect marriage, got off to a rocky start and truly never had that fairy tale story I'd imagined as a young girl. I confess I've spent too much of our last 10 years thinking on what we don't, or haven't, had. What a waste that has been! What a disaster of focus! 


I've come across a few quotes lately that helped in aligning my mind onto the track of truth, one of my favorites is this: 
     "Nearly all marriages, even happy ones, are mistakes: in the sense that almost certainly (in a more perfect world, or even with a little more care in this very imperfect one) both partners might be found more suitable mates. But the real soul-mate is the one you are actually married to."
                                        --J. R. R. Tolkien


True, yes? There is a lot of True Love in a marriage, and one of the secrets is that there are many moments throughout the course of one where True Love is demonstrated by staying not because you feel it, but because you said you would.  It proves your word's worth, to see a vow through makes you trustworthy, which is vital because one of the things I can now say I know about marriage- it is the most naked, vulnerable, and exposed spot in the world to be. To be utterly bare before someone, and know they are trustworthy with your "you-ness", is everything. 
      Something else I've learned: 


"Success in marriage does not come merely through finding the right mate, but through being the right mate."  ~Barnett R. Brickner


     Which goes hand in hand with this:


 "To find someone who will love you for no reason, and to shower that person with reasons, that is the ultimate happiness."  -- Robert Brault




So, there you have one of my biggest lessons and it's so old and so overdone there must be hundreds of tales and thousands of songs proclaiming it... you see, "it takes two".  We all desire to be loved, no- to be HUGELY loved, but we also need to hold the responsibility of being someone lovable. 


    You've been gone all week, soaring heights and skiing steeps I'm not sure I'll ever have the stomach to take on myself. But I can hear the smile in your voice when you're done and I never want to hang up and lose the sound of your voice or the joy you're clearly feeling --  and that's really saying something, since you know my phone conversation skills aren't among my best qualities. 
    When you're not here, I sleep on your side of the bed, and in your shirts, anything to feel you close. I miss you. I start listening for the door to open at the end of the day in the hope you might be back sooner than you said, I think of you thousands of times a day and smile when your face crosses my mind. 


    We don't have the perfect marriage. We have something so much better, we have a 
Real One. 


      We have a funny, messy, complicated, solid, hopeful, hard-working, passionate, trying, courageous, brilliant, priceless, always-figuring-it-out-as-we-go-and-keep-getting-up-no-matter-what marriage. I know I've been showered for more than a decade now with reasons to love you... 


...may you become equally drenched  my Dear One, 


me