Weekend at the lighthouse

family pic in front of the lighthouse

my husband and daughter in the exact spot at the top of the lighthouse where my husband proposed

We were engaged at the top of a lighthouse (Sand Hills Lighthouse Bed & Breakfast) in the Upper Peninsula in Michigan. It is a magical place for us and a place we try to return to each year. Aside from the year we went with my husband’s parents, we typically go alone, just my husband and I. This year we asked if we could bring our daughter. She was SO excited as she knows about lighthouses from our visits to Duluth and Maine and we talk about them in her books. She was so excited in fact, she packed her suitcase (along with all the contents of her bedroom minus the furniture) a full week before we left.


Of course my husband and I were ecstatic to be going and even more so to see the excitement through her eyes- it was hard to say who of the three of us was most excited for this trip! We drove through snow to get to Michigan (crazy May weather!) and it proved to be another fantastic weekend at one of our very favorite corners of the world. Lake Superior always calls to my heart and makes me feel like I am home.



The magic continued through the weekend with excellent food, piano music and trips to the tops of the lighthouse tower to the exact spot my husband proposed, 8 years ago to the day, this time with our little girl. We spent time doing the simple things we love- throwing rocks into the lake, watching seagulls, collecting rocks (me looking for heart shaped rocks, my little girl collecting them for grandparents and my husband carrying them all for us), looking at lighthouses, taking pictures, enjoying the scenery, listening to and watching the waves. This time in the snow! Although it was unseasonably cold this year, we enjoyed the low key time together as a family in the fresh air, without a schedule or a plan, which is such a stark diversion from our day-to-day life.












We came home refreshed, renewed and full of great memories, reminded again of all we have to be thankful for.

~Angela

More than just a Mother's Day card

Mothers Day this year was a low key day spent with family. No emotional breakdowns like last year. We spent a large chunk of time in the car (as we have been doing a lot of lately) which is peaceful as long as the weather cooperates which it did, even amidst the light snow (yes, snow on Mother’s Day!). I don’t mind the time in the car as it gives us time to talk as a family, read, enjoy the scenery and just be together.







The best gift this Mother’s Day were the cards I got from my husband and little girl. My husband has a way with words and I savor each heartfelt word he writes. I don’t put a lot of value on “stuff” but I have every card and note he’s ever made or bought for me. Same goes for my little girl. From the first cards that were picked out with a lot of help from dad (ok, he did it himself) to the cards that she picked out on her own and scribbled in with crayon (hoping the occasion on the card matched the occasion we were celebrating. She’s been known to pick out an “I miss you” card for a birthday because she liked the picture) to the most recent card that she wrote on herself. And I don’t mean wrote on as in scribbling pictures that I could not quite make out without an explanation for her. She wrote my name on the card. At just over three years old. I saved the envelope because each time I look at the scrawled out “mom” that is so carefully written on the front I just beam with pride. She’s known how to verbally spell my name for several months, but I did not know she knew how to write it until now. And although I was not there when she was writing on the card, I can imagine her concentration as she spelled out loud then wrote each letter, pen in hand, tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth, and endearing trait she got from her Daddy and I can feel that LOVE that I have for her, the love that just grows bigger and bigger all the time. The “mom” that is written on my card is such a symbol of the love my little girl has for learning. “Teach me to read, Mama.” “I want to know how to spell, Mama.” “Mom! I want to be able to write my own name but I need help!” And we’ve helped her with all these things. She is wise beyond her years and never fails to amaze her parents. I love being a mom to this little blessing and love to see her grow, another milestone achieved to remind me that she is such an amazing little girl and I am so proud to be her mom.









~Angela

The Beauty in Dying

I struggled with a title for this post just as I have struggled with my emotions in the last couple of months. After losing some dear family members this year, death has been a topic on our minds and has prompted some important conversations. Death, hard as it is, can be a beautiful thing. Losing people you care about is never easy. But in the midst of those last weeks, days or hours, we get glimpses into something we don’t often see otherwise, especially in those that are suffering. Peace. When someone has lived a long, full life and they are ready to go, it’s moving to see that acceptance.

I had the privilege (that word seems hypocritical, but I think it is the best choice here) of spending time with a dear friend just hours before she passed away. I vividly remember visiting Elizabeth in the hospital several years ago when she was in such pain. Her cries out were heartbreaking. Then she sat up in her hospital bed, a sense of calm washed over her and began reaching out with her arms, a hopeful look on her previously pained face. I knew then that she was reaching for Jesus. She was ready to go. With tears in my eyes, I called my mom and told her “Elizabeth is ready. I think she is dying” and went on to explain what I had just witnessed, one of the most powerful emotions I ever had at that point in my life.

My aunt/Godmother passed away last weekend after a month and a half struggle. There is peace for her and her family as she is no longer in pain, but heartache as well. She was young and this was not expected as she had routine surgery. I was able to visit with her a couple of weeks ago, when she was in a coma. My cousin and I spent time with her laughing, talking, combing her hair, holding her hand, reminder her that we are her favorite nieces (that conversation in my family never gets old). And she responded to us. She knew we were there. It was terribly sad as this is not the aunt I remember all my life, but we got glimpses into the aunt we remembered in her expressions and gestures.  And when a nurse told us that was her last good day, I find peace that I was a part of that.

I began to realize the beauty in death when I removed my own selfishness.  I would love for every single person that I care about to live forever. My family and my friends enrich my lives in so many wonderful ways that I don’t want to think about my life with any less people in it than there are right now. But I realize when someone is ready to die, they have made peace with their own life after this one and are suffering here with us, they are ready. Whether I am or not. I think of my husband’s great grandma who passed away about a year and a half ago. Her funeral was not sad. I still cried (of course, but I'm a crier), but she was so ready, if not eager, to move on as she had lived a full life; she had no regrets; she had faith, that it was hard to be sad for her. It was sad for me. I still find myself picking up a card to send to her, realizing that I can’t mail cards to heaven.

I worked at a funeral home my first year out of college so I’ve been around death and people that were dying a lot in those years of my early twenties. And although I’ve always valued those people in my life, I learned lessons from those experiences that shaped who I am today: someone who values those I care about. We make every effort to spend time with people we care about so we have memories with them, not just memories at their funerals. That has always been my motto and I have no regrets about this.  I see too often people (family members even!) haven’t visited someone in years then show up at their funeral.  I just don’t get that at all (and I need to remind myself that I am not in charge of how other people live their lives and everyone handle things differently). I like to make memories with those we care about while they’re here with us. So when that day comes that their life is not longer spent here on earth, I am able to look back and find peace with myself as well.

~Angela

Growing

It is hard to realize how much your children grow when you see them every day, but I swear some days I pick my little girl up from school and she just looks bigger, like she grew while she was there!




We've been patiently waiting for the snow to melt so we could to go to the park and we finally were able to. A family playdate after school/work was just what we needed after 6 months of winter!











What a difference a year makes!
My little girl can climb and jump and is quick on her feet,and confident as she climbs, jumps and runs. She doesn't need me as much any more. This means we can play together!


Slide races. Mom lost.

What a wonderful day we had together!
~Angela

That Mom

I wasn’t going to be that mom who let her child walk
around the house eating and drinking and jumping off furniture. I was not going
to be that mom whose child threw temper tantrums. I was not going to be that mom whose child watched TV. I wasn’t going to be that
mom whose child did not eat her fruit or vegetables. I was not going to be
that mom who let her child sleep in my bed. I wasn’t going to be that
mom who let her child play with her phone.

Then I became a mom.

And in some ways I became that mom…because to teach
your child that they cannot walk around the house with food/drinks, they have to
walk around the house with food/drinks and then be told that is not ok.  

And I was that mom whose child had a temper tantrum in
the grocery store over a box of animal crackers that I took away on the day she
turned 2 ½ . Here I was thinking I was halfway through my daughter’s second year
and had yet to experience the “terrible twos” I’d heard so much about. And I let
her have the tantrum, then calmed her down, explaining that no matter how mad
you are, we still have to pay for the animal crackers, which means releasing the
grip so I can take them out of your hands.

I was that mom whose child some days devoured fruits
and vegetables and other days wouldn’t touch them. And sometimes you have to
introduce new foods, even if just to determine that your little doesn’t like
them. And then try them again and again because she just might change her
mind...

I was that mom who does occasionally let my child
sleep in my bed, (not as a baby - I was too scared I’d squish her) especially
when my husband is gone.  Or when she’s sick or I felt like I just needed to
cuddle my little girl because I could. Bad news stories have that affect on
me-they serve as reminders that there are people in this world who don’t have
that choice and I am lucky enough to do so, sometimes we just indulge that. It
feels good to cuddle that little person and feel the warmth of the her body and
the comfort of her breathing. As for her helicopter sleeping style-constantly
rotating all night long-I could do without.

I am that mom who lets my daughter watch videos and
look at pictures of herself on my phone. I even downloaded educational apps
(gasp!) just for her. And if I’m being honest, she is far less clumsy with the
phone than I am.

And from all this, I realized I am this mom. I am me.
I am a culmination of all those moms. I am a mom who loves my little girl and the baby on the way and who tries to make life fun. When we see other moms doing things
that are quick to fall under the category of that mom, maybe we are not
seeing them as they are all the time. We don’t always see people on their best
days all the time because we don’t have best days every single day. And that’s
ok. We don’t need to categorize ourselves anyway…

 

~Angela