Slainte to Heaven McGurk (Mom)

For every wound, a balm.

For every sorrow, a cheer.

For every storm, a calm.

For every thirst, a beer.

On My Mind Monday

“I have been feeling very clearheaded lately and what I want to write about today is the sea. It contains so many colors. Silver at dawn, green at noon, dark blue in the evening. Sometimes it looks almost red. Or it will turn the color of old coins. Right now the shadows of clouds are dragging across it, and patches of sunlight are touching down everywhere. White strings of gulls drag over it like beads.

It is my favorite thing, I think, that I have ever seen. Sometimes I catch myself staring at it and forget my duties. It seems big enough to contain everything anyone could ever feel.” 

~Anthony Doerr, All the Light we Cannot See

Grateful Friday

Today I give thanks for...

T. Bone went on his ski trip solo Saturday.  He ended up meeting up with someone he knew from a couple years ago on his football team and they had a blast.  I don't think I would have EVER done that.  He did, and it worked out.

Coach and Lily went tubing with the cousins.  They too had such a blast.

Turns out it was our last weekend of winter (at least for the time being) so we're switching gears to baseball and softball.

Spring cleaning and burgers on the grill too.

Birdsong and warmish breezes.

A walk sans jacket mid week that ended in a full on sweat.

Putting my Mom's fish on a chain and wearing it all weekend long.  She had two.  One green and the other blue and she wore them often.  Now I will.

A new lamp for my dining room.  I've never much liked the lighting in that room because I prefer ambient to overhead light.  This little light was exactly what I needed.

A really lazy Sunday, and zero shame for being a slug.

T. Bone enjoyed D.C. with his friends.  He came home tonight with kaleidoscope eyes. I'm grateful for all of the experiences he had, and eager to hear about them after he is rested, watered and fed.

Miss Bit and I headed to the theater after school to see Cinderella.  We both gave it a solid 9.  I didn't expect to love it as much as I did, and I'm grateful to know that we are never too old for a good fairy tale.

 Dr. Paul Kalanithi, a compassionate doctor and a wise patient. He died this week from metastatic lung cancer, but not before opening so many minds and hearts. Also This piece, which was beautifully written just before his death. He was dying. It would have been so easy to check out, but he didn't.  On his death bed, he worked with colleagues to develop a more sensitive palliative care protocol.  As a doctor turned patient, he had much to offer.  I'm grateful for that because in my experience, there is much room for growth in dealing with terminal patients and their families. The medical profession, the world has lost a rare gem.

This novel.  Thank you Anthony Doerr for your beautiful words that come together to tell such a compelling story.  

This Guy

This guy is on his way to Washington D.C. with 80 of his classmates.  I snapped this picture at 4 a.m. in the deserted airport parking lot, and I knew better than to ask for another.  It's fine though because this photo captures what I see.

Look at those man hands.  He seems to grow overnight every night.  And he's all legs now.  This week his new khakis had a 34 inch inseam.  In early winter we restocked with 30s.  Gone from his face is any trace of boyhood, and rumor has it that he's even shaved, but I'm in serious denial about that one.  He's starting to care more about his appearance and is developing his own sense of style.  I like it.

Look at his excitement.  This guy loves to go places and especially on airplanes.  He's a traveler by heart ready to take on new experiences with curiosity.  He quipped how great it would be if I were taking him to the airport to board a plane to Colorado, yet we talked most of the way there about all of the worthy things on his jam packed itinerary. I shared with him that D.C. is one of my favorite places to visit, and that I still want to travel there as a family one day.  One day soon it'll have to be.

Look at his confidence and charm.  He has a level of self-possession I so often admire.  He is comfortable anywhere.  Everywhere.  He can engage anyone.  He respects himself and other people. He knows his worth and he values that of others.  All others from the homeless person on the street to the priest at the altar.  He sees no difference.  What a gift he has to embrace life with such a compelling combination of chutzpah and earnestness.

See his bright shining spirit.  People are drawn to him and they speak of the essence of his character in ways that sometimes make me blush.  He has strong values and a healthy moral code.  He knows what is right and that is what he does.  I briefly mentioned "the rules" for this trip, but I'm not worried about him breaking any.

Look at his independence and fearlessness.  He's ready.  Ready for this trip, ready for high school, ready for life.  He's eager to try new things, meet new people, go new places.  He's ready to forge ahead into a life that I get to hear snippets about, and that just right there is the definition of bittersweet.  It is textbook happysad, but really mostly happy.  He's coming into his own and that is cause for celebration.

Before I left this morning, he gave me an extra long bear hug (or he allowed me to give him an extra long mom hug), and then he disappeared into a crowd of friends who were happy to see him.  For the briefest moment, I felt a tad verklempt, but the prevailing emotions were pride and honor and joy.
This guy...that's my boy.

2 day pass in pictures

1. the sun feels warmer and shines brighter each day.
2. bunches of daffodils are a sure sign of spring.
3. popcorn skies.
4. soda bread. herby cheese this time. smelled great.  looked good, but was inedible.  time to really forge ahead on a new kitchen.
5. he gets ready for a day of spring skiing.  perhaps the last of the season.
6. i think he was almost as excited for the breakfast bagel i made him as he was to strap on his skis.
7. a little cat and mouse.
8. we get ready for a fun st. patty's day birthday celebration.
9. taking turns at the trough.
10. soon the branches won't be bare.
11. i bought all the shamrocks at the store.
12. the menu.
13. the table.
14. slainte to another year birthday girls!
15. the dark chocolate guiness cake before the bailey's butter cream frosting and the dollop of whiskey whipped cream.  the star of the meal imo.
16. lucky to have these ladies.

My Girl

She is, at times, 10 1/2 going on 16, but always my baby.  There are times I see so clearly the little girl that she was and others when I get glimpses of the young lady she's becoming.  Yes, she rolls her eyes from time to time.  Sure she's starting to find me annoying in certain situations.  I get that breathy Mom more than I used to, but we genuinely enjoy our time together and cherish the relationship we've forged.

She is a typical tween taking selfies (like the one above that inspired this post) and snap chatting with her friends, and yet there is nothing common about her.  She possesses the kindest heart and a grateful spirit.  She hurts when other people hurt, and is a constant champion of the underdog.  My old soul is a true empath. It's more important to her to be true to herself and a good friend than most popular.  She's already figured out who she is at her very core.  Her moral compass is steady and her character strong.  I marvel at that because I know adults with less depth and far weaker conviction.

She is not only wise beyond her years, but she's also witty.  And opinionated.  Her commentary on anything from life to the Wednesday night line-up frequently makes me pause or simply shake my head.  More and more often she gets things I don't expect her to.  She gets them with fresh eyes and young heart...with unjaded innocence and optimistic hope, and my mother's candor.

She is coming into her own in so many ways.  She's driving the bus, making decisions and choosing paths and I have to respect that.  Sometimes it's hard because I think I know better, but she knows what she wants and what she can handle.  Gone are the days where I oversee every aspect of her life. It's no longer my job to make every choice and decision.  It's time to let her slowly take the reins, to encourage her if she struggles, and applaud her when she succeeds.  I've already given her the roots. She's earned her wings.

There are times I get down on my parental weaknesses.  I stress over the many things I could be doing better as a mom.  I'm not perfect, nor are my kids, but they are happy, healthy, well-adjusted individuals who make me immensely proud as a mother and encouraged as a human being every day.  And that is how I know I'm doing something right.

2 day pass

after a cold and emotionally fraught week,

all i wanted for the weekend was only what i wanted.

that is to say the things that ground me and the people who lift me:

quiet spaces and kindred spirits.

books, walks, whims, comfort food, coffee and wine.

conversations, connections, chilling out and cozying up.

jess joined us friday evening.

we gathered our best ideas to help lily construct her amusement park for science.

i bribed jess with pizza, wine and a batch of double chocolate cookies hot out of the oven.

almost 11 year old girls tend to dismiss their mothers, but not their aunts.

temperatures made it into the 20s on saturday with the sun high in the sky.

coach and i took a balmy walk along the river and then on the edge of town.

it felt good to restore depleted vitamin d reserves, to explore and to see our town with fresh eyes.

since i was up before the crack of dawn to see t. bone off for skiing saturday, sleeping past sunrise felt like sleeping in sunday.

we started our day at church, and i was thankful for the weekly ritual which always makes me feel lighter and less alone.

ted went to workout with his uncle, mike helped lily finish her project and i worked out and made a tuna casserole for dinner.

that was added to my brother's rendition of my mother's beef stroganoff.

sunday dinner was an homage to the 70s casserole and my mom.

for a weekend that was relatively uneventful, it was, in fact, quite full.