Where the days are long but the week is short!

Here I am back at Big Pine Lake…for at least the 55th time. I went for a run this morning and wrote an entire post in my head. I just looked back at last year’s Big Pine Lake Ponderings and I realized it is the exact same post I had in my head…so you can read it here. This is the first time since we have had kids that I can remember being here without them. I am missing them and my mom. But the time is still sweet, and somehow centering.

The history here is rich, memories are strong, and the lake calming, even when the waves are crashing the shore in strong winds. Last night we trolled slowly in the quiet water, watched the sun go down, caught weeds, and a couple of fish in between. The conversation was rich. We laughed, remembered, sang. We enjoyed the smooth rippled water, the clouds, the loons and watched an eagle swoop up a fish. As we passed where the old boat house used to be, and the store with a grape bottled pop machine on the porch, I could almost see it, hear the voices of the past.

I love this place.

Big sisters are great!

I have a big sister. She’s nine years older than me. Tonight I feel like writing about her. So I will.

My sister is amazing. I call her my trial-blazer. Being nine years ahead of me she figures it all out, then tells me what to do and what not to do. It’s pretty great. I remember getting lots of boyfriend advise from her as a teenager (she was already married). She gave me great tips on parenting. She helps me deal with getting older. She gives me lots of “heads up” for the future. It’s a great thing.

We live far apart – she’s in California, I’m in Wisconsin. We don’t see each other more than a couple times a year. Sometimes only once. But at times our lives seem intertwined in a sort of surreal way. She’ll tell me a great book she’s reading, and I’m already reading it. She’ll be going through something and I realize I am going through the exact same thing. A few weeks ago she started reading my blog. She called me all excited…what I wrote about addressed things she was experiencing!

There is something cool about coming from the same parents. Even being nine years apart, we see characteristics that we got from our parents in one another and laugh (or sometimes cry.) We are so much alike sometimes its scary. But then we are so different in some ways too. But somehow we understand each other in ways no one else really can.

Lately my sister and I are both going through leading organizations that are navigating lots of changes. Today she called me. She wanted to debrief a meeting she had. A couple nights ago I called her, I needed to talk about my fears. It is so great to have a sister who cares.

Once my sister told me that when I was born I was the most beautiful child she had ever seen. She was so proud. I still feel that from her. And I am so proud of her. It’s great to have a big sister. I just needed to say it out loud.

Big Pine Lake ponderings

We just returned from 5 days at Big Pine Lake near Perham, Minnesota.

My first trip there was 50 years ago when I was almost 1 year old. I got the mumps. I remember pictures of me sitting with my Uncle Ray on a cot in Cabin 4 at Grand View Heights resort looking like a chipmunk.

A few years later, at the grand age of 5, I blue my first bubble gum bubble in cabin 4. I held it in my mouth and carefully walked down the path to the boathouse store to show my big brother and sister my amazing feat.

A couple years later, my brother offered to buy me a 10 cent popsicle if I would not say a word for one hour. Which I did, annoying him with written notes the entire hour as he hung out with the cool teenagers at the store. He came through. I decided it wasn’t worth it…I like talking way too much…so I never did that again.

Then my parents bought the Little Red Cabin down the beach. I was 16. Our yearly adventures to Big Pine became more frequent, going several times in a summer. I loved playing cards with the other teenagers, water-skiing, drinking “black cows,” and going to the drive-in movie.

Then came the college years, introducing my college friends to the lake and my future husband (this was a test that he had to pass!) There was great fishing and fish-fries (my dad makes the best fish ever!), and the cornbread casserole my mom was famous for. They were always welcoming to whoever visited. I remember the first year I missed going to the lake. I was about 20. I had a hard time. How could I miss a summer at Big Pine?

Over the next 30 years my kids have done the same things I did. Skiied behind the same boat (a 1969 Rambler that is now “vintage’), played the same cootie game and cards, drank from the same bright aluminum drinking “glasses”, and bought bait at the same bait shop in town. This week my daugter introduced her husband to Big Pine.

Things have changed some at Big Pine Lake. Some, but not much. The resort we used to stay in fell into great disrepair and the city tore it down to make a public access. Some of the cabins on our beach have new owners. But many of them are in the same families. The fish are less abundant, and there are jet skiis (much more noise on the weekend than there used to be). There are a few new shops in town.

But so much is the same. It is comforting. In this fast-changing world it is great to have a place where my roots go deep. As the water runs deep, so do my memories. As we sat in the boat fishing we sang the same songs my dad and I used to sing when I was 5. We can still harmonize! We talked about the quiet, the water color, the shoreline. We watched an eagle fishing, and saw a family of loons. I sat on the beach with my book for hours in the gentle breeze and a cup of tea. We “plugged” by moonlight and brought in Northern Pike. We had popcorn, “black cows”, and played “dutch blitz”. We slept to the sound of waves crashing and a lake breeze. We smashed lots of bugs that made their way into the cabin. And we ate way too much fried fish and cornbread casserole.

We read from the journal that dates into the 70’s and remembered it all. We looked at the painted rocks that line the porch, painted over decades on rainy days. We missed mom (grandma).

Somehow in the last 5 days I have remembered who I am – who I have always been and always will be. I have grown and changed so much. Yet my sense of place became so real to me. I am so thankful for Big Pine. For the family times it recalls, for the quiet waters it stirs in my soul, and for the fact that it is still there, much the same: a place to come home to.

Thank you Daddy for a great week!

Yet another goodbye in 2006

I blogged in September about this being a summer of goodbyes. Well, little did I know the hardest goodbye was yet to come.

On Thursday, Dec. 21, I gave the “mentor moment” at our church Mom’s ministry’s Christmas brunch. I focused on Mary, the mother of Jesus, at the moment she was told she would give birth to the savior. Her response to the angel: “I am the Lord’s servant. Let it be to me according to your word.”

I am your servant, let it be. This expression of ultimate surrender has stuck with me over the years. As I spoke to those young mom’s about letting go of expectations, accepting what God brings, and serving Him faithfully no matter what it is, I was giving my own Christmas to Him. My daughter and her husband were coming home and we’d have to share them with two other families for a week. Not an easy thing for me. “Let it be.” I used this is my reminder to accept what is, not fight it. I was feeling pretty good about myself that Thursday. I sensed God was teaching me how to accept what He brings.

Then Friday came. My dad called. My mom was in the hospital. She had fainted and he had called 911. She has a pool of blood inside her abdomen, a bleed of some sort. They seemed to have it under control. But they might not make it for Christmas. Maybe we could come the week after and bring “Christmas” to them. I was relieved it wasn’t more serious, but very sad that they might not be able to come. They are very much a part of our Christmas each year. I reminded myself: “I am your servant Lord, let it be.”

Saturday morning Dad called. Mom seemed to be doing well. They’d keep her for observation. But maybe they would get to come. He’d keep me posted. That was at 8 a.m. At 9:30 a.m. he called again. She had a huge turn for the worse. She was hemorrhaging badly. I was in the car on my way to their home (4 hours away) in an hour. “I am your servant Lord.”

The next 3 days were very difficult. My mom knew me when I arrived. But within hours she was no longer conscious. She never spoke again. My brother and sister came, we wept, laughed, sat by her beside. We comforted Dad. We told many stories. We sang by her beside. We didnt sleep much. On Tuesday morning she quietly breathed her last breath.

My mom was an amazing woman. She was baptized as an 8 year old. She was raised as a pastor’s kid. She grew up during the depression, with very little. She married a man who became a bank president. She learned how to support him well, yet never forgot to care for those who had less than she did. She was a great mother to 3 children who learned everything about life from her. In her later years she struggled with depression. Eventually she was diagnosed with what they thought was bipolar disorder. She could not live without medication the last 20 years of her life. During her struggle, Jesus had a hold of her. He never let go. She was the Lord’ servant, let it be.

Our family will bury her body in a couple of days, back in the town I grew up. These last days the memories of my childhood there have flooded my mind. Those distant days seem almost like a dream. Did they really happen? Perhaps that is what it will be like in heaven; the memories of earth will be a distant memory, because the current reality will be so amazing: a place with no sorrow, pain or tears.

Someday I’ll join my mom there. Of that I am sure. Until then: “I am the Lord’s servant, let it be.”

Fly-fishing used to be boring…

My husband and I went on a vacation last year to Colorado. We attended a wedding there, but decided to stay for a week. He is an avid fly-fisherman. Now I really didn’t want to sit alone in our room while he fished. So I tagged along with my crazy-creek chair and a couple of books. Read and watched. It looked pretty boring to me. My books were great. Right before we left, on day 4 of fishing, he asked me if I wanted to try it once. Sure! He showed me how to cast in about two seconds, we saw a rise, he said “cast it there!” and I had a fish. That was easy! And pretty fun, I might add. Beginners luck.

So this year, another wedding in Colorado. We stayed the week. There is nothing like the mountains and golden aspen to enjoy! As we were planning I said “what if i try fly-fishing?” Hmmm..okay. We borrowed some waders and boots (4 sizes larger than my size, I want to note). This year, he really spent some time teaching me. I was casting in the grass, learning the basics. Trying to get the right lingo (Not a pole, honey, a rod! Not a lead..a leader. You don’t snag a fish, you hook one! That’s not a bobber, it’s a strike indicator.)

I really figured this would be okay…not great, but okay. And maybe I’d know for sure how much I hate fishing. So there we were in a clear mountain stream in Colorado Rockies. Slopping around in my too big waders. Untangling messes when I cast poorly (those trees are a real pain) and catching a few (very few) fish. But amazingly enough, I fell in love with fly-fishing. I was stunned. Each day I couldn’t wait to explore the next stream. I loved it all.
Here are some of the reasons why fly-fishing is great. In case you want to give it a try:

1. Waders are great. Okay, so mine were a little big. But it is really great to stand in a river, move around the rocks, and have the current flowing hard against you. The cool feel of the water against your skin…but you aren’t wet. It’s really fun!

2. Casting is a blast. The sound of the line swishing through the air. The challenge of getting it right where you want it. Trying to defy the wind as you cast. It is a skill…so different than plopping a line in the water. Even without catching fish, casting can be fun. You feel successful just putting it right where you want it.

3. Exploring with a purpose. I think this was the best part. You are out in nature, exploring around the river. You look for the way the ripples move, try to read where the fish might be hanging out – under that rock, below that little water fall, near that log. Each time you come around a bend you are looking for more fish hang-outs. And you are looking for bugs…what the fish might want to be eating right now. Cool.

4. Flies are nifty. They are fun to tie on. They are cute. They even have cute names. Like parachute adams, or nymph (you cute little nymph you!) or woolly bugger (you gotta love that one.) They are all different sizes and colors. It is very challenging to match the right fly to the time/day/fish/water. My husband is a biologist. He’s good at that. You turn over rocks to see what’s on them. Then match the fly. Or you ask the guy at the fly shop in town. He’ll tell you what to use. Of course I couldn’t understand what he was saying most of the time. It’s a different language fly-fishermen speak.

5. It’s a great way to relax. It’s the perfect blend of challenge without tension. Trying to relax can sometimes be boring. Fly-fishing is like reading a great novel. It’s engaging, fills the mind, but doesn’t make you tense. Relaxes you. Just the sights and sounds relax..the waves, the wind, the lapping water. The sound of the line, the smell of the breeze. Ahhh.

I was pretty surprised that what looked really boring was actually amazingly wonderful. Watching is totally different than actually getting your feet wet at something (only in waders they are dry!) I guess I’m hooked! Next time we go, I’ll have some waders that fit. I’m getting them for Christmas!

Good-bye summer of good-byes

I think summer is over. Today I spent hours sorting wedding pictures, and putting them in an album. It was sad. The memories of the day were wonderful. But putting all the photos in order, into an album, brought some kind of finality to a summer of craziness, fun, and special moments, that had a few too many good-byes.

I went for a run to clear my head. I remembered the many days last fall running with Krissy, talking about Dave, her excitement about him, then their engagement, the planning. And I realized that last year was huge…it was full. Not all of good things…there were a few surgeries, alot of pain, but through it all our family was together. And there was alot going on. It led to a full summer, one that I took one day at a time.

So the summer happened…a great wedding. Tons of activity at home. A big move for Krissy and Dave. Back to campus for Nikki. Tim and Jessica, good friends, left for a year in Israel. The whole summer I told myself “just enjoy every minute, soak it in” and I am thankful that I did! I didn’t say goodbyes until I had to.

Now it is over, and usually when a summer ends I feel like “back to the real world!, summer fun is done.” But this year nothing really feels the same. So much is different. A new stage of life is very real. I’m not sure what this year will feel like. I’m feeling a little stunned. And very sad. Like I am letting go of something that I can’t hang on to any more, but really wish I could. Like some part of me is sinking into a sea, and I realize it has drowned already and I need to let it sink…let go, say goodbye.

So I feel like there is yet one more goodbye I need to say, but I can’t quite get a grip as to exactly what I am saying goodbye to. So I’ll just say goodbye to summer…and let the other goodbye that I think needs to be said in my heart happen as it will. And hopefully I will embrace what God has planned for me each day, and trust Him to carry me as we journey together.

So goodbye summer….you were truly amazing!

I hear the clock ticking…

After a busy summer of college kids home, weddings, moving, friends visiting, and lots of laughter and tears. It is done. Both our girls have moved out. One 2000 miles away. The other 2 miles away…but it’s the same. They aren’t home. What we are left with is quiet.

We have this grandfather clock on our wall. A wonderful 100 year oldish clock that has been in my family. I remember as a kid it was in the hallway outside my room. At night I would be soothed by its ticking as I fell asleep.

Now it is in our dining room. On nights and days when the house is full, I don’t really hear it. Last night I never noticed it once as we played cards, ate popcorn and laughed together. Tonight I hear it. It seems loud. Ticking. It is still soothing. But it has tones of sadness. What are they doing right now? Will they sleep well? What sound will echo in their dreams?

Those many nights, night after night, when you look at them asleep. You watch their steady breathing…the constant pace. All is well. Their hearts are ticking.

The clock continues to tick. Time continues at a constant pace.

Life changes…

Home is where the pig is

Our family has this crazy tradition – wood cutting boards in the shape of a pig. They are really cute. I grew up with one. It was very old, not sure where it came from, but it had grey counter top on one side, and wood cutting board on the other. It was this distinct pig shape. When I first went home with my husband, before we actually were married, low and behold, his family had this wooden pig cutting board. Almost the exact same shape, but no counter top on the back. For our wedding his dad made us one just like it.

Now, this pig is pretty cool. It is big enough that you can cut just about anything but a turkey on it. And it is kind of comforting to have this cute little pig lying there when you cut your apple, or cheese, or carrots, or whatever! Instead of “grab the cutting board” it is “grab the pig.” Our kids, growing up, would grab the pig and a knife and cut away. Scrubbing the pig was kinda fun. Way more fun than a plain cutting board.

What’s the point here? Well, there are daily things in our lives, that are just so daily that we don’t think about them. But they spell “home” to us. That pig at my in-laws made their house more like home to me. Have you ever seen something out of context that is from your child hood? Like a certain kind of glass with little sketches on it that jelly comes in and you remember it from when you were a kid? They jog all these warm memories. It just feels like home!

So today my daughter and her husband arrived at their new home in Pasadena. The boxes are filling all the spaces. It’s probably feeling a little bit surreal. But this is their first home together. Krissy and Dave, unpack the pig that Papa made you. And it will feel just like home!

Because, as you said when you opened it, “Home is where the pig is!”

How can something so painful be so amazingly beautiful at the same time?

Today is a day of wild emotions. I can’t quite comprehend it. This morning I hugged my daughter and her husband (of one month) goodbye, seeing them off to California…2000 miles from home. My heart was breaking at the thought of not seeing my daughter’s face, at least once a week. Of not running together, of no game nights or movie nights together for a long time. We all cried, hard. All five of us. Then they drove away, and I cried. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t stop crying. Tears feel good. Like cool water running over a burn. It brings some sort of relief to an aching heart.

After cleaning the house – it was a pit from packing – my younger daughter and I had an ice cream date. (That was good for both of us!) Then I went for a run. The last time I ran was a couple days ago with Krissy. Today her voice was in my head, her presence even felt close. I was glad I had Dakota panting next to me. I thought to myself ” how can this be so painful and so full of beatuy and joy at the same time?” I wondered what other things are like that. I am SO happy for them. It is SO GOOD to see them going off together to begin life in a new place. It is exaclty as it should be. Life doesn’t get much better! But it is SO painful.

Then I realized when I had felt like that before. It was the day Krissy was born. I had never been in so much pain. I thought I’d never get through it. But bringing her into the world were the most beautful, joyous hours I can remember. It was the beginning of parenthood for us. I remember holding her and wondering what this would be like, to have a child. As it unfolded it was the most amazing and diffucult thing we had ever experienced. Full of wonder and surprise, and sometimes pain.

So maybe today is like that…a new beginning of something difficult but also amazing and beautiful. Having grown children will be very different. Already I see wonderful new things happening. I have a son, which I have always wanted. I love seeing the two of them enjoy life together. It’s a blessing seeing what wise adults they have become…the list could go on and on.

So here’s to this new season. To the joy and the pain. For when relationships are rich (Thank you Lord, that these are!) the joy is great, and the pain is deep. Have a safe trip across the country kids! And Enjoy the Journey!!!!

God WILL take care of you.
I love you,

Mom

Psalm 121

I lift up my eyes to the hills�
where does my help come from?

My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip�
he who watches over you will not slumber;

Indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD watches over you�
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;

the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.

The LORD will keep you from all harm�
he will watch over your life;

the LORD will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.

It’s Time for Saying Goodbye…

About 18 years ago my daughter, Krissy and I said goodbye to two very close friends who were moving away. Her best friend at the time (she was 4) was the daughter of my best friend, Deb. Deb was the closest friend I had ever experienced…and after two years of knowing her, she and her family moved away. Krissy and I sang a song together at a going away party…it was funny…Kermit the Frog’s goodbye song (lyrics at the end of this post). Krissy sang some of the verses alone, at 4, and was a hit! There were tears shed, it was touching. Deb is still one of my closest friends. The time and space didn’t harm our friendship. In fact, maybe they enhanced it. I’ve been through a lot with Deb. She is my kindred spirit.

Saying goodbye to Deb was perhaps one of the harder goodbyes I have experienced. But I am about to say goodbye to Krissy, in a week, when she and her husband move thousands of miles away. I have no idea what to expect. I am so excited for this chapter in their lives. My husband and I have done well (she’s not perfect, but close!) in raising her to be an amazing, God-fearing adult…God’s grace, really. It shines in her. It shines in them. We’ve been through a lot with Krissy. Taught her the finer things in life: how to ride a bike, how to spell, how to love creation, how to engage in deep thought and conversation, how to manage money, how to have integrity, be honest, love, show mercy. And she’s taught us the finer things in life: patience, unconditional love, how to be honest, show mercy, love well, care for others, enjoy life, speak Spanish (a little).

It is so right to come to this point. And so painful. It is a beautiful moment, and the hardest step yet. I’m thankful for cell phones, for email, for blogs (I think I called my parents once a month or so after I moved away…yikes!) And I am thankful for God – His constant presence, His comfort, His promises, His enduring love for her; for us.

So here we go, the last week living in the same city after 22 years. I pray the hard moments are also tender. That the last days are joyful in the midst of the pain. And I praise my Father that He graciously gave us a relationship with our daughter that I know will endure the test of time and place. It’s a new part of the journey…may we learn to treasure it as we have the other phases of life. And may we love them well from afar, as they begin their own life as a new family. May they leave, and may they cleave, by God’s grace. Dave, take good care of her!

Saying goodbye, going away
Seems like goodbye’s such a hard thing to say
Touching a hand, wondering why
It’s time for saying goodbye

Saying goodbye, why is it sad?
Makes us remember the good times we’ve had
Much more to say, foolish to try
It’s time for saying goodbye

Don’t want to leave, but we both know
Sometimes it’s better to go
Somehow I know we’ll meet again
Not sure quite where, and I dont know just when
You’re in my heart, so until then
Wanna smile, wanna cry
Saying goodbye

La la la la la la la la
It’s time for saying goodbye

- Kermit the Frog