Families Are Forever

The hours of my son's senior year have been ticking by, seemingly 24 at a time, simultaneously rolling each day into a new month as graduation day looms just ahead in the coming spring.  I have to admit, I have been struggling with the realization that my eldest son is about to leap from the shelter of his childhood home, while my youngest daughter is hanging on his coat tails just three years shy of each milestone.  Recently, I framed Christian's new senior portrait and Karissa's latest school photo from her Freshman year.  Next, I needed to find a good spot to hang them...

Early this morning, as the weather was such that my husband would be spending the day in the field, and morning hadn't quite dawned enough to wake my children, I wandered around my living room, coffee cup in hand, quietly adoring the decorations and photographs already on display.  A variety of frames lining the cedar chest and end tables throughout the room caught my eye.  I picked up a photo of my grandparents and admired it with respect.  I carefully tucked it back into its place amid a variety of other frames containing random family snapshots, portraits of grandparents, great-grandparents, uncles and aunts, and even a few ancestors from longer ago.  Taking a sip of my coffee, I glanced around the room.  Many walls in my house had been rearranged, even remodeled, in recent years; but one wall in my living room had remained the same for over five years.  The arrangement still displayed an assortment of sizes and poses of my husband and I with the kids taken by a professional photographer in early 2009.  My finger tested for dust from the top of one of the frames as I reminisced of the days when my children were much younger.  Their big grins in one of the photographs reminded me of the funny comment my husband had made that day to encourage them to smile.  The assortment of frames and photos in various sizes and shapes hung in a carefully designed arrangement on the wall.  Strategically placed amid the frames were three sticky-backed, calligraphy style words stating "Families ... Are ... Forever ... "   I tenderly tipped one of the frames to assure it was straight, then I stepped back to admire the arrangement one final time.

I thoughtfully recalled the day that I hung them.  My mother had come over to help me eyeball the inches and move them by "tishes" to the left or right before pounding each nail into the wall.  As my mother and I hung each frame, I hid a secret from her, that the reason I needed to get the photos hung “asap” was because my brothers were both coming home (and bringing my soon-to-be-future-sister-in-law).  We had been planning a surprise 60th birthday party in her honor and she couldn't know that they were going to be spending the entire day at my house before we surprised her at the golf course that night.  Little did I know that it would turn out to be the last time I would host both of my brothers at my house for a Bohr-sibling gathering.

With that memory, I timidly gathered the photos off the wall, leaving only random nails and a variety of scuffs, scratches and marks giving proof to the length of time the arrangement had been displayed.  In the morning light, I stared at the now glaringly empty wall.  The words  "Families ... Are ... Forever" suddenly stood out even more distinctly, and the stark emptiness gave me an eerie feeling as it screamed out into the quiet of the living room.  Tightening my robe in a bit of a hug, I pondered the method I should use to remove the nails, fill the holes, and erase the marks and words from the wall.  I wondered if I would have to repaint.

In the meantime, I took a moment to admire the newly framed portraits of the kids that I was hoping to display.  Amazement and pride overwhelmed me as I noticed how Christian's once baby face had been replaced by handsome manly features, and Karissa's bright blue eyes, perfectly adorned with makeup, made her a woman of striking beauty.  Gazing at each portrait, I finally decided to hang them on a couple of the old nails that remained in the wall, just to get a feel for how I would possibly want to arrange the new display.  Once I hung them on the wall, I was astonished to find that with just a few nail adjustments, the new photographs of my children would fit perfectly amid those original, small but prominent words "Families ... Are ... Forever".

As I studied the new, still haphazard arrangement, a sense of peace came over me.  I was suddenly filled with metaphors on the grand design of life.  I realized that just as the arrangement of photographs will be replaced by newer, even better photographs of the very same family members, so our family lives are only primed to get better.  The scuffs, scratches and marks that we acquired through the years, will always remain as subtle reminders of where our experiences have taken us.  Just as some photos are eventually taken down and stowed away in special cedar chests or drawers, so the days of Christian’s and Karissa's childhoods will always be found in my memories, along with those of my own early years, tucked tenderly inside my heart.  

As my thoughts and the memories carried me away, I found myself  intrigued by the fact that the new frames happened to fit excellently among the words that had originally been cut to fit the earlier and much different design.  That was when it hit me.  As my children make their way toward adulthood, it is true, our daily lives will never be quite the same -- but our lives will not be ending and my job as their mother will never be complete.  The arrangement of our day-to-day will definitely be taking on a new form in coming years, as each member sets out to follow their own path in life.   However, it is comforting to know that, no matter how we may arrange it, despite the paths, miles and sunsets that may separate us, the grand design of our family, like those perfectly stated words, will always remain.  I know in my heart, that "Families ... REALLY Are .... and ALWAYS WILL BE .... Forever!" 

It Takes Teamwork to Win Championships

I recently read a quote from a fellow baseball mom that went something like this:  "It takes talent to win games, but it takes teamwork and determination to win championships!"  And that is just what the South Winneshiek Warriors' Baseball Team is accomplishing this year.  As the mom of one of the members of the team (the catcher) I couldn't be more proud.

 

The Warriors definitely have a number of talented players!  Every position is filled by at least one talented player with qualified skills.   But talent alone, can not win championships.  It takes a team -- a team with spirit, heart and dedication!  This group of guys has all of those things!  They share a history and a friendship filled with memories and even a few superstitions.  They have been playing together since they were very young.  They know each others' talents (and weaknesses) and they know how to work together and motivate each other with their friendship.  As children, they competed against each other in little league, learned to work together during their early year's of travel teams, and even enjoyed getting a glimpse of how far they could go by competing  in the Iowa Games a number of years ago.  These boys really WANT to play baseball - and truly love the game.  They even practice during the off-season -- not because they are told to, but because they are eager to play the game!  The team has a unique depth of players on the bench -- a smaller group than many, but the bench is lined with special teammates with years of dedication and loyalty, a few with up and coming talent, and even those who just want to be part of the team! 

 

The Warriors are blessed with the opportunity to learn from talented and open minded coaches who guide the boys with experience, knowledge and skill while allowing them to lead themselves when the time is just right.  And then there are the team's devoted fans -- fellow classmates, dedicated family members, loyal community members and even a group of girls who "love their baseball guys"!     

 

As one of the devoted fans, I have thoroughly enjoyed watching each and every one of these boys grow from wide-eyed, inexperienced little leaguers with big hearts and big dreams to become seasoned high school athletes achieving their goals one at a time to become Conference Champions, District Champions and State Qualifiers, taking on the challenge to make their mark on the history of South Winneshiek baseball! 

 

On-to-State Boys!  You make us all proud!! 

 

Happy 95th Birthday, Grandpa

In Honor of My Grandpa, Jerome J. Einck

On His 95^th Birthday

June 6, 2014

As our country honors veterans

Each year on June the 6th,

I raise my flag to a special man

Who has my heart transfixed.

With many men in '44

He took the beach by storm.

Defending his country with all that he had

On the day that he was born.

He turned 25 on the beach that day.

He left his mark on the world.

As a very, young man with a long life ahead,

The war around him unfurled.

At night, so I hear, by candlelight,

He wrote letters to Grandma back home.

While holding her photograph close to his heart,

He signed them "with my love, Jerome."

After the war, with my Grandmother's hand,

He lived his life with ambition.

Farming and working and building a life

And watching it come to fruition.

With a gentle hand and a tender heart,

Along with discipline,

He raised four daughters (one was my mom).

His love was genuine.

The man that I know, is much more than that -

I know him as "Grandpa Einck".

He's a man who is humble (and likes to play "Tic")

And is very gentleman-like.

I find I relate to some of his ways

As I aim to fill his shoes -

With his quiet disposition

And his love for all things blue.

As time goes on his family, now

Spreads generations - four!

With grandkids – eight, great grandkids – twelve,

And someday maybe more.

My hope is that our family

Can fulfill his legacy -

To each be the type of person

That my Grandpa is to me!

Autumn Miracles 10/10/2010

Any ordinary autumn day tends to fill my heart with emotion and has the potential to bring tears to my eyes simply with the colors of the trees, the crisp smelling air, and the tenderness of knowing that summer has ended and winter is on its’ way.  I am one who has always seen the miracles in the simple things – an autumn day such as this and any moment spent with family.  However, in 2010, my spirit was severely tested as I searched for miracles of the dramatic kind to heal my brother, Adam, who was stricken with cancer at a very young age.  In previous years, my prayers had consisted only of countless displays of gratitude, wanting to show my appreciation, but not wanting to waste God’s time on trivial desires.  In 2010, my prayers turned desperate, and I continuously begged God for a miracle cure for Adam.  If anyone deserved it, I know he did!  At times throughout that year, I thought for sure God was answering my prayers; but by October, it became evident that He had other plans as we came to realize that Adam had little time left to live.    

Still my search for the miracles continued.  They were there as always in the simple things – time spent together, words expressed, positive attitudes, glimpses of hope, peace and grace, and in all the hugs that we shared.  One particular day, the calendar read "10/10/10". Somehow the date itself seemed a bit of a miracle.   That day we experienced heartfelt family moments on one of the most gorgeous autumn days I could imagine, as autumn leaves reluctantly let go of the trees they had been clinging to all season, the warm summer air timidly turned cooler, and the days grew shorter with each turn of the globe.

It was a joyful day in some regards.  My whole family was there – both my brothers (Adam and Rob), my mother and step-father, my husband and children, my future sister-in-law, aging grandparents, and even my father, in spirit.  My baby brother, Rob, was embarking on the happiest moment of his life as he was marrying his soul mate.  Countless hours had been spent planning an extravagant wedding celebration near their home in Arizona for the end of October.  We had expected to have our entire family present in Arizona and Rob continued to dream of having his older brother beside him as his best man.  Plans were made throughout a year that consisted of one emotional roller coaster after another, with Rob and his fiancé making several trips home to be at Adam’s side to support him during his illness. 

When October drew near, it became evident that Adam would not be physically able to make the long trip to Arizona despite his strong desire to do so.   My youngest brother insisted there could never be a replacement for his “best man” and was persistent in wanting Adam to be with him on his wedding day.  So he and his soon-to-be-wife hurried to make the trip home once again suddenly making plans to say their vows back home so Adam could attend.  My mother worked quickly to help them plan a private, family ceremony.  The setting for the ceremony was the deck in my brother’s back yard with a special family priest officiating.  My daughter scattered rose petals, my son shared a reading and we all watched and listened as the couple exchanged vows and their marriage was blessed.  Adam was there by Rob’s side with dignity and loyalty despite his pain and discomfort, never uttering a negative word. We were all filled with so many mixed emotions that the flood gates of our hearts were bursting at the seams and we couldn't bear to open our hearts too widely.  We put up shields in the form of forced smiles, and our tears were held back with each shortened breath.

   

 Adam’s special friend shared her talents in song and her words tugged at my heartstrings as she sang of green trees, red roses too, the colors of rainbows, and skies of blue.  While unity rituals were shared between my brother and his wife, the lyrics rang out amid the melodies.  Tiny miracles danced along with each word as she sang “… and I think to myself, what a wonderful world…”

Typically, I am one to experience every moment, inhaling the miracles, basking in the simple things and soaking up the emotion found in every detail.  But that day I couldn't allow myself to dive in for fear I would drown.  I could only wade shallowly along the shore of my emotions, timidly gathering the details like fragile sea shells allowing only glimpses to touch my heart, careful not to shatter each one.  I tucked each detail deep inside my heart with the hope that someday I could set them free to be seen as the miracles they were meant to be.      

If I learned anything that day (or that year for that matter) it was the power of a positive attitude, the value of experiencing each present moment, and the importance of letting our loved ones know how much we love them.  I was proud of both my brothers that day, as they touched me with their heartfelt words, strength of character and stories that only a sister could understand.  I felt a deep respect for my mother for all that she had to endure.  I was honored that my grandparents were able to attend and grateful for the comfort that Father Krapfl’s voice always offered.  We shared hugs that we hoped would say "I love you" in a way that could suffice an eternity and embraces that we prayed would take away the pain, fear and even illness if they could.  We did share a few laughs, some real smiles and even glasses of champagne.  We didn’t take many pictures for a variety of reasons.  We later learned that we didn’t need them anyway, for it was a day that will be engraved in each of our hearts for all eternity…    

Today, as years have passed and spring has sprung, I head out on a walk as I often love to do.  I still can't help but wonder why things are the way they are.  We may never understand why God did not give us the miracle we so desired.  I guess some things are just meant to be, and sometimes the miracles we pray for are not the miracles we are supposed to receive.  But as the memories and emotions of that day make their way to the surface of my heart, I am grateful for that simple, miraculous October day.   As he often does in recent years, my favorite butterfly eagerly nudges me on my path, luring my attention to the miracles of the simple things. I notice green trees, the soft sounds of nature and red roses too.   As he flutters off into the blue sky, I smile a truly joyful smile and think to myself, "Although I will always miss my brother, I've got joy in my heart once again, and it truly is a wonderful world!”