The College Mama

Fortune Friday

Ba-dum-dum. (Just in case you don't know, that's the drum sound heard often after the delivery of a very corny joke.)

Shedding my heart

Yesterday I went for a walk and ended up behind our local elementary school. As I walked past the swing set I decided to sit down and swing for a few minutes. A few minutes turned into several minutes. As I swung I stared at the school and pictured my kids running through the halls and playing on the playground. I remembered having to literally drag Ben down the hall the first few weeks of Kindergarten. He wasn't too fond of school. I thought about the crazy mornings trying to get four little children ready for school and out the door on time. I thought about school open houses, chorus concerts, third grade Apple Festivals and many, many other things...things that won't happen again. Things that I miss. 

When I gave birth to Ben I couldn't imagine loving another child the way I loved him. I quickly found that with each new addition, my heart grew and it has continued to grow over the past 20 years. I love all four of my kids in a way that can't adequately be described in words. I think that my heart grew so when the time came to send them off, they could take a piece of it with them.

Despite the tears that are running down my cheeks as I type this post, I know that my children's growth is a very good thing. I need to keep reminding myself of this because when I walk by an empty bedroom or stare at an empty elementary school, my heart hurts. As painful as this heart shedding process is maybe it's necessary to make room for new growth. Instead of loving my children as babies, I now have the opportunity to love them as the wonderful adults they're becoming. I like that idea. I really do. I think it's going to take a little time though. I may need to spend a little more time on the swing set shedding a few more pieces of my heart and telling myself that it's going to be okay. It will be...right?

Thank God for poker

Here is a portion of an IM conversation I had with my son Jordan yesterday. I can't decide if I should start worrying more or less?

Me: Hey Jordan how are you?

Jordan: I'm good.

Me: I miss you!!

Jordan:  I miss you too!!

Me: So, are you doing your homework and remembering to eat a lot of fruits and veggies?

Jordan: Guess what, I won $340 playing poker last night here on campus.

Thank God for poker because if that expensive education doesn't pan out, at least he'll have something to fall back on.

Fortune Friday

I'm sick today. Sore throat, running nose, cough, aches and pains...I have it all. I'm trying to take this fortune seriously but it's just not working too well. Maybe tomorrow.

I ♥ this home

I love to have company. Love it! Even when our house was a zoo crawling with the little human animals, I still enjoyed having people come to visit. As the kids grew up our open door policy served us well. Our house was the place to be...the place to eat, hang out and play. I thought this would end when the kids hit their teenage years but it didn't. Just about every weekend I would awake to numerous bodies spread across my family room. The same thing happens now when the kids are home on a break. One must step gingerly when walking across the floor to avoid tripping.

Over the past few years we've started hosting large get-togethers for adults. There's Christmas Eve, New Year's Eve, the Super Bowl, monthly Movie Nights and many other occasions to invite people to gather. Last Saturday evening was movie night. I was feeling a little tired because I'd been outdoors all day. I was cognitively kicking myself for agreeing to host this month's event. And then something happened that made it all seem worth it. As I walked from my laundry room into the kitchen I spotted this tiny, little message on the wall next to a closet.

I am not a proponent of writing on the walls; especially the walls of someone else's home but this little bit of graffiti melted my heart. Some of the adults who visit often bring little children. I have no idea if it was one of those little visitors or one of my kid's friends who penciled this. It really doesn't matter who did it. It's staying right where it is. I think I'm going to print this picture and frame it because in my mind there is no greater compliment than to have someone love your home. Not your house...your home.

No more complaining

I spend a lot of time complaining about winter. The cold, the snow, the lack of daylight hours. Here in the Northeast winter lasts a very long time. There are years when it arrives in October and doesn't depart until April. Ugh. I decided last year that it was time to stop whining and instead use my energy to start enjoying this very long season. Before the kids came along we used to ski. Jeff loved it. I tolerated it. When the kids were young we spent a lot of time sled riding. We all had such a great time and as an added bonus after a day of sledding everyone would be exhausted and fall asleep early. Any parent of young children knows what a blessing that is! Now that the kids are grown up we don't have anyone to take sled riding. Except for ourselves that is. Here's a short video clip of one of last year's sledding adventures:

 

This past weekend was the annual Winterfest event here where we live. We were able to grab out sleds and join in on the fun.

We had a great time but I did notice something. When the kids were little and we went sledding with them our focus at the end of the day was getting home, feeding them and putting them to bed. Now, when we're done sled riding, our focus is seeing who can be the first to grab this:

I'm not going to complain but my how times have changed.

A love like that

I spend a lot of time in the cemetery. I know that sounds morbid but it's not. The cemetery here is beautiful. It's a wonderful place to walk and run. I've learned so much about life in a place that seems more connected to death. Something happened there last week that I've been thinking about ever since.

During my lunch break last Tuesday I decided to go for a run in the cemetery. As I rounded one of the corners I noticed a very elderly woman using a shovel to work on the area that surrounded one of the graves. As I got closer to her, I could see that she had tears running down her cheeks. She looked at me and made a comment about the fact that the sun was shinning. I agreed and then for some reason asked her if it was her husband's grave that she was working around. Her face lit up and she replied, "Yes. I always take time to make sure things are nice here for him." Her tears told me that her love was deep and that the pain was still very real. I told her how wonderful I thought her actions were and then we parted ways. As I walked I said a little prayer for her. I assumed that his death couldn't have been that long ago since she was so diligent in caring for the plot. When I began my second lap around the cemetery the woman was gone so I decided to take a closer look at her husband's headstone. I was shocked when I read the year that he died. He died in 1964 which means for 44-years this woman has been meticulously caring for her husband's burial plot. I would imagine that means 44-years of missing him and 44-years of tears flowing down her cheeks when certain thoughts about him enter her mind. I suppose that's very said but at the same time, how wonderful to love and to be loved like that.

Over the past week, every time I've thought about my cemetery encounter I've found myself feeling incredibly blessed. I feel blessed because I met this woman and because I have a lot in common with her husband. You see, I know what it is to be loved like that. For the past 22-years I have been cared for by a man who has worked hard to make sure things were always okay for me even during times when I wasn't easy to love. I'm so very fortunate and thankful.

I hope you're able to say the same...that you've known a love like that. If not, get out and take a walk. You never know where love may find you. I highly recommend the cemetery.

A day late...

Which means I've had one more day to love him. Happy Post-Valentine's Day Jeff. I love you!

 

Fortune Friday

Life really is a matter of perspective...

Angel blessings

She was a flurry of activity…rocking back and forth, shaking her hands in the air, stopping periodically and smiling at me.

I was a flurry of activity…setting up my computer for a presentation, connecting it to my LCD projector, worrying that she was going to knock my equipment on the floor.

She was a 7-year-old, autisitc girl.

I was a 43-year-old, overwhelmed girl.

She was patient, looking at me every now and then for a smile or some gesture of approval.

I was inpatient, wishing her mother would intervene.

She was visibly upset when her mother finally walked forward to get her.

I was relieved.

She pulled away when her mother took her hand, buried her head in my chest and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck.

I began to melt.

She finished hugging me, then grabbed my face in her little hands and kissed me three times, pausing after each kiss to look deeply into my eyes.

I forgot about everything else and became lost in the moment.

She stared at me for what seemed like a very long time, then calmly walked to the back of the room with her mother where she once again began to rock back and forth and shake her precious, little hands.

I calmly finished preparing for my presentation with a smile on my face and a little tear running down my cheek.

She was an angel who reminded me to live in the present.

I was blessed because of her.