The Other Shoe: RIP Finnegan McGoo

I woke today with a heavy heart and it's only become more of a burden. I thought I would find relief, but instead I have nothing but grief. Our lovable Finn was very sick and we had to say goodbye. It was an impossible goodbye. Sudden and shocking and sad beyond sad. Our bright eyed boy was only 2 1/2 and really still a precocious kitten. What we'd been treating as a virus, was an aggressive cancer for which there was no cure. We did what we had to do broken-hearted. 

I want to say it's not fair and to ask why, but there are no answers that would satisfy me. I saw myself growing old with the Tres Amigos. Hazel and Gus don't know they are the Dos Amigos now. It doesn't have the same ring to it and yet I don't know what I'd do without them.

That shoe I was waiting to drop, felt like a bomb when it fell. 

I'll be back when I recover.

 

15 Years

Happy Birthday Mom,

Today you would be 75 years young. I say that because your life was cut short at 60 and I just know that you would still be living and loving big if you were here. Fifteen years makes me pause. It is a long time especially at this stage of our lives.

I have been dreaming about you nightly. While not particularly comforting or disturbing in nature, your cameos force me to the realization that you are gone when I wake up. That's not the most pleasant way to start the day.

This morning Candace sent me a text while I was still sleeping and Lily sent one when I was showering. Two of our gals who know how much I miss you because they do too. 

So a of couple things. Life is good and full at present. All summer, I've embraced this good fortune. Then the past couple weeks I've found myself waiting for the other shoe to drop, looking for harbingers of changing kismet, sensing the impending storm after a season of calm. It felt like self sabotage and a return to my pessimistic past, but I realized that this is a product of the anxiety that plagues me this time of year. Every year. For the past 15 years. Therein lies the textbook definition of it doesn't get easier, it gets different.

The hardest part is knowing what my kids have lost in losing you. You cherished them and loved nothing more than being their Nanny. I got 40 years with you. Teddy and Lily only got 7 and 4 respectively.

I wish we could toast you at Grenadier's (although that Milwaukee icon is also gone). I wish you could have seen your grandson become an Ironman. He has your grit. I wish you could spend time with Lily. She has your dry wit. They both have your fiery spirit and your joie de vivre. You would be unabashedly proud of them. And me. Because them.

This next week will be tricky. It always is. Your birthday and then Heaven day 7 days later. But you always said what doesn't kill us, doesn't kill us. I know I'll get through it.

I love you Mom. You were simply the best!

ironman weekending

I've been caught up in my head and my heart. It's all good, but sometimes even during times of big, bursting joy, I get verklempt to the point of losing my words. Usually this happens during times of one pinch me moment after another. It can be too much to process. So I don't. I sit with it and let the words come to me when I'm ready.

This past weekend was one of those filled with so many stories, connections, moments to remember for those times I need to tap into my faith and love for all humans tank. That tank was filled to overflowing this weekend.

The nexus of celebration was Ted's amazing Ironman race. When I heard the MC say, Ted Wegehaupt...You Are an IRONMAN, my knees went weak. I cannot fathom how he felt. He is, after all, the one who accomplished 140.4 miles in 13 hours. But here is the little secret about supporting someone's challenge and witnessing such an achievement...just a little bit of it is also your triumph.

Ted's cheering section was loud and proud and large. So many people were a part of the journey that ended when #871 crossed the finish line. Or maybe the journey is only just beginning. Most likely it's begun anew. I'm not sure that any one of us really expected that he would swim 2.4 miles, bike 114 miles and run 26.2 miles when he declared he was signing up for the race a year earlier. Ted's an amazing athlete, but he is also a big dreamer and schemer. He was not a strong swimmer, and had never completed a century or a marathon. Edited to add that he'd never finished more than a 5K, but he trained. He trained hard and the more money he invested in his race, the more I realized that he truly meant to earn the title. And once I knew that he would start, I knew he would finish.

One of the first things he did when he finished was thank everyone for their support. I thought I couldn't be any prouder of him for just crossing the line, but that he realized he hadn't done it alone just about blew me away. Everyone gathered had a role in getting him to this point. His roommate, Thomas, swam many laps with him at the Nich and worked on his turns and strokes and breathing. Lily took over this summer and coached him in the open water. She swam with him sans wet suit in Lake Michigan even when the water was cold to keep him on track and pace. Nathan ran with him and Timmy biked with him. Cousin Tim helped him trick out his bike and as a triathlete himself, he shared valuable tips. Meryl shared her boyfriend with the water and road. Training is not for sissies and it seriously cuts into free time, but she encouraged him to the very end. Uncle Brad and Aunt Ashley went out on the course with him for a couple miles when he was hurting mid-marathon. They are two of his biggest cheerleaders every.single.day. Mike was his bike mechanic and I was his nutritionist. All of us and many others, listened to endless IM talk for the better part of the year and all of the summer. So yeah, when he finished, every one of us felt connected to the experience.

Meryl gathered video clips from the day and put together a montage that I challenge anyone to watch and not feel something deep. I mean I cried for complete strangers many times that day and we cheered until we were hoarse and our wrists hurt from ringing cow bells. You cannot witness these competitors of every age and size from all over the world and not want to know their stories. Everyone has a story. What brought them here? Why are they doing this? Is it their first one? Will it be their last? How does it feel to have so many strangers lining the streets cheering for you? You got this 20! Looking strong Mom! You go girl! You are amazing! Just keep moving forward! You are fit, you are strong, you can do this all day long!

Ted, the consummate ham, loved all of the interaction with the spectators, and they (we) love a smile or a nod or a gesture, the bigger the better. My brother made it his business to high five every biker that passed by us on the way up Mid Town Road, one of the longest, most grueling hills on the course, and he even made the paper doing so. There's a reason Highway to Hell was on repeat. 

Ted smoked the swim and he crushed the bike. He said he could have biked all day. The run was a little tough, but he started out too fast, the day got hot and he didn't leave enough gas in the tank. It was  group effort to refuel his tank. While he never entertained throwing in the towel, there were more than a a few miles (7-14) we thought he might just walk until the end, but he worked through it (thanks chicken broth, family and friends) and he finished strong. That is actually my favorite thing about his race: the strength of spirit and mental fortitude it takes to hang in there and stick with it. That's the stuff that builds character. I feel like I was watching him grow right before my eyes.

That being said, there were so many bright spots from the day: Lily and Meryl running alongside Teddy up the hill and then doing a high five of their own, my dad and step mom showing up in their Wisconsin Grandpa and Wisconsin Grandma sweatshirts bursting with pride, Thomas and Meryl getting up at the crack ass of dawn to get him fueled and to the race start, the tearful, happy hug I shared with Meryl after his finish, Lily and Brad feeling inspired to do the half IM next year, all of the amazing race volunteers, the course that snaked around the campus we all love, the beautiful day, the camaraderie, and I could go on and on. 

I can still feel the tension in the air as we waited for the swim to start. Close to 1500 people worked hard to get to this point and here they were...we were. That energy hung in the air all day and night. Ted finished #345 at 8 o'clock with a smile on his face as soon as he crossed the line. We didn't go out to celebrate, but I never really thought that would happen. Another time most definitely. Instead Meryl and Thomas took him home and we brought over pizza at the IM's request. After a shower, he felt human. He didn't make his early morning class, but he was in front of the class to teach in the afternoon.  He still says he feels great. I want to bottle those endorphins and be 22 again.

Not really. I'm grateful to be.here.now and just beyond happy to have been a part of what I think is a watershed event in my son's life.

Video and pictures to come.

 

Hello September

The last half of August seemed to linger and also to fly by at science defying speed. Yes, it's true that time can stand still and disappear simultaneously. I'm coming up for air from what was a whirlwind past few weeks with a happy heart over what was a pretty perfect end to our calendar summer.

Ted and Lils are settled in Madison. We moved them in tandem Tuesday. It was a 12 hour day. Ted stayed in the same house, but moved into a new room with new big boy furniture. Lily is the queen of decor. Remind me to change my Amazon password STAT. We came home dog tired, but also proud as peacocks for pulling it off. Pulling it all off. The larger part of Lil's sectional was not getting up the narrow hallway to the second floor. Before waving the white flag, Mike schemed and decided with enough strength, we could hoist it over the railing and through the balcony door. Ted put out an SOS for muscle, Mike went to buy a rope and the troops that graciously gathered succeeded in getting the couch up and over and in. We have so many couch stories. Hopefully, this is the last.

Both their homes are cozy and that gives me a sense of peace...knowing that they are comfortable and safe and happy is a blessing and a relief. They are in good company with good friends.

Our week at Webb Lake was the quintessential end to summer. We take this week for just that reason. It's a the epilogue to the earlier chapters. It complicates back to school, but we know what we're doing now. We are expert movers who have the drill down so we eke out all that we can of time together in one of our happy places.

This year we had a revolving door of guests because my brother and sil were only able to stay for the beginning of the week. We were delighted for Meryl and then Pete, Sue and O. to join us mid week. This north woods compound is nothing short of magic. Magic should be shared, spread, stretched. We did our duty. I'm quite certain not a single one of us was ready to leave and not just because I had to unpack, do many loads of laundry, repack and shop to stock fridges in 36 hours.

I didn't dwell on any of that while I was enjoying my days and nights at Webb Lake. Every day is different and also the same because whether we are in the lake or the hot tub, playing tennis or taking a hike, playing a competitive game of hammerschlagen, team Wits and Wagers, puzzling (Pete's jam), or painting a watercolor (surprisingly one of Ted's jams this year), kayaking steadily or jet skiing real fast (hello Lily and Meryl)...we're together. We play hard, eat well,  sleep as little as possible and take a gazillion pictures. Every day begins on the screen porch with the humming birds and ends around the kitchen table candles lit and wine poured all of us together. In between we swim, sun, ski, boat, tube and at last we soak. We had heart to hearts (Meryl's deep questions), loads of laughs (rowing the full boat across the lake after it died), holy moments (the humming birds playing in  the trees, the eagles flying right overhead, stargazing on the pier, sunsets in the boat on the water, hearing nature's yips and hoots and howls), time to disconnect and recharge (getting lost in a book, cloud watching on the island, or listening to the wind rustle through the birch trees).

One of my highlights is celebrating my birthday in this special place with my peeps. I love waking up  in the company of my family knowing that we have the whole day, and in this case, most of the week to not so much celebrate me, although that happened, but to celebrate this tribe we're blessed to be a part of. 

I have very positive juju for this next year for me and for my family. We are happy and healthy and grateful. We are all in good places surrounded by good people, and what's more...we know it. Appreciate it. Honor it.

At 54, I can say that I am content. All I want is more of this. Please. Thank you. Amen.

 

Weird

I don't often use the word weird, but it pretty much sums up how I am feeling this week. I'm excited to be going on vacation with my family, but I'm dreading the fire drill that will be our quick pivot from r&r to moving the kids back to Madison. I'll have 2 days to do laundry and shop and pack. I'd say we have, but I'm feeling like being completely honest. They mostly seem to think I over prepare and cannot be bothered to be a part of my crazy, yet I know they appreciate when I'm in mama bear mode. I like to leave them ready to slay the semester, but there are times I just about kill myself getting to that point. I know I'm not alone.

It's an oxymoron how much of a tizzy I can get myself into leading up to a vacation. The truth is that we are going to the North woods where we will live in bathing suits by day and sweatshirts by night. There is a very nice grocery store miles away. My cats and house will be in the very best of hands. There's nothing to lose any sleep over, and yet I've slept like crap all week. 

I think I'm ready for vacation. Yeah, I'm definitely ready.

Catching Up

I haven't left the house all weekend. By choice, I have stayed home. Happily at home. Today has been a bit broody and the temps hint of what's to come. The slider is open, but I'm sitting here wrapped in an afghan content with the peace and quiet and even the chill in the air because I know it's not here to stay yet.

Last weekend was very full celebrating our birthday girl. She had a blast at Windmill Beach with friends on Saturday. Lake Michigan was wavy and warm and they swam their hearts out. The water was not quite as inviting when we went for a gloaming family swim last week so we know to celebrate those random few and far between days that are perfect for swimming. I was up early Saturday putting together a picnic lunch. I made a mountain of wraps: buffalo chicken and chicken Caesar, cut a watermelon and an assortment of veggies for hummus. A duo of bars were better suited for the beach than a cake. Lil made sure to bring her birthday tiara. When we arrived to pick them up, they were all waiting outside and the tree house was spotless. They hauled the coolers up from the beach. Have I told you how much I love my daughter's friends? My son's peeps?

The party continued on Sunday. We hosted the fam for another celebration of our best girl. It had to be chicken again because...Lily so we did fajitas and threw an arrachera steak on the grill next to the bird. I made what my 3 claimed was THE Best ice cream cake yet. My girl requested real cream not whip cream, and she was right. She stocked up on flowers, cash and beauty products. Hey 19.

This week was a bit of a blur. We had a very sick kitty which made for a stressful few days. I am so grateful that Finn is back. He had some kind of infection and didn't eat for 6 days. He lost 3 pounds. He weighed 10. Things turned around in the nick of time after 2 vet visits, a couple sleepless nights and lots of prayers.

It's the main reason I have been happy to be home this weekend. I spent time getting things ready for our Northwood's vacation and Lil's apartment move in. Mike went to a reunion of all his high school buddies, Lils was saying goodbye to the first wave of friends back to school, and Ted is in Ohio for a wedding. He finished his last day at Anderson Saturday, received a nice job offer for after his year long masters program, left Thursday for Lakeside and I don't expect to see much of him until Webb Lake.

hello August

On this the first day of what is officially the last month of summer living, I promise to make the most of all thirty-one days. After a week plus of sickness and sloth, I had an epiphany...not otherworldly or uncommon, but striking all the same: summer is ebbing. Soon I will miss the long, hot days and the full, messy house.

Last night Ted was looking for a swim buddy or a tennis partner. Lily said not today and Mike said another night so I offered to hit some balls with him. Sure it was soon to be dusk and, of course, I had no plan for dinner, but I knew this was more important. We weren't out for long, but I'm glad we did it and I think we had some competitive volleys.

Since our match was cut short, we decided to take a walk. The whole fam joined and it was so nice to walk and talk while the fireflies buzzed about. Lils and I finished a game of Egyptian Rat Screw and we scrounged up fixings for late night sammies. I was the last one up. I soaked in the silence and the gratitude of a darn good night.

Tonight is movie night. It's Lily's birthday week so it's her choice. We're going to see a new thriller. It's her genre, and also one we all enjoy. We'll probably have popcorn for dinner and maybe the ice cream cake I made last Saturday for dessert. It's my new thing.

So in 7 days my daughter turns 19 and before month's end I'll be 54. We have a week planned in the Northwoods before we move the kids back to Madison at the end of August. It's going to be a full month. A good full month.