Someday, You Can’t

 This summer has started out so very similar to the many summer “vacations” we have had before in our little family.  School is out, leisure time abounds (for the children anyway) and we set off to intentionally spend time together doing, generally, simple activities to create memories together.   This past year, the kiddos finished 7th, 5th, and 4th grades.  They’re getting older, and each year, that fact weighs silently on my mind a little heavier.

Over the last handful of years (it feels like very few, but it has been 7 or so), I have lost two aunts and two uncles, each of my parents having said their earthly farewells to at least one sibling.  I have had the sorrow of saying these goodbyes to many people over the years, and the finality of death has not escaped me since I was a child.  

My own children are coming to grips with these circumstances in ways they’re understanding much more deeply as they’re growing up. This past winter, we learned the devastating news that a deeply loved uncle passed away.  This death rocked my children’s hearts a little harder, because he was an uncle they spent a considerable amount of time with when we would go back to my hometown area in MN.  He would randomly show up and spend wonderful hours playing alongside my children, loving on all of us.  My kids refer to him as “the best kind of uncle” and their hearts have taken many months to speak his name without their voices cracking or tears filling their eyes.  I think more than any so far, this was the death that really left a life altering impact.

Since his funeral, we have had many conversations about spending time with those you love.  There’s a song that we all love, “Til You Can’t,” and the lyrics are simple and powerful and remind us that someday, those people you love won’t be there anymore, so stop putting off until another day the time you could share right now.

This lesson has applied to multiple circumstances since my uncle’s passing, but today, sitting beside an algae-tinted lake under cloudy grey skies, I watched two of my children float around on inner tubes, while my oldest sat beside me, digging in the sand, unwilling to participate in the activity.  He insisted it was good enough that he came along and that having fun was not a necessary part of the endeavor.  On one hand, I understood where he was a coming from, and almost agreed to an extent, but my momma heart turned on the waterworks and silent tears fell down my cheeks. I did not look his way.  I stifled any sniffle I felt coming, and I tried to swallow my emotions down so that I would not guilt trip or embarrass him making an emotional scene.

I was not upset that he was resisting the fun, I realized as I dug to the root of my flood, but rather, I was wading through a conversational path we had taken earlier this summer- the “18 summers” talk.  We had heard on the radio that children basically have eighteen summers  and then they’re adults.  Sometimes, it’s less, whether it’s death, taking on summer jobs, or other reasons.  We discussed how he’s already 13, his brother almost 12, and his sister is 10.  Most of those 18 summers have passed us by, and a few of them felt cheated due to being quite sick with covid and then another recovering from a spinal injury. This summer will feel shorter as of month from now I will have a surgery to repair my foot and will be unable to drive or do much for the rest of the summer.   “The days feel long but the years rush by,” I told him. He agreed.  That morning we drove in silence for a while until the next song came on the radio.

Tonight, sitting on the beach, I realized my heart was aching for my children and the realization that these days are also going by really quickly, and soon, they’ll be gone.  Much like the song I referenced above, we can’t guarantee there will ever be another peaceful day on the lake where all three children could float on the waves, splashing, laughing, and forming those memories that will carry them through their lifetimes. 

I finally decided to speak.

“I’m not mad, buddy.  I’m not disappointed.  I’m just realizing how short these days really are.” I said.  

I reminded him of the 18 summers.

“Why do they want to hang out with me? I’m a boring moody teenager. They think I’m annoying.”

“Siblings say that.  But they don’t always mean it in their soul.  They mean it in the minute, but when that minute is gone, they’re going to realize they were wrong.”

He gave me an argumentative look, but held his words before replying.

I went on to explain to him that now, as a 40 year-old, seeing half a lifetime go by, having spent so many summers orchestrating memories with my children, I see it from a fresh perspective.  It’s true that their summers are winding down.  Mine are long gone.

I told him about moving to college when my youngest sister was a toddler.  I had a two-hour commute to see any of my siblings at that point, when my summers had gone from being at home beside them, leaving to spend it with friends, to working at a camp and never living at home with any of them again. As the oldest of four, I understood how sometimes it feels like a burden to play with or entertain younger siblings.  I know how it sometimes feels like you’d rather be doing anything other than splashing in a lake.  I understand how you might not want to sit beside your parents for hours on end when you could be interacting with someone your own age who would undoubtedly be more fun and certainly more cool.

I get it.

Thankfully, I have loved my siblings fiercely all of their lives, and as an adult, although they were younger, I still made time and conscious effort to make memories and have adventures with them, often bringing them home with me for multiple days so we could explore, play, laugh, and grow together.  I am blessed beyond measure for years upon years of that.

But I get what it’s like on the other side of all of that, to see your grown-up siblings a fistful of times a year.  Often, those times are spend reminiscing, joking, and laughing about the years that have already passed by.

I understand wishing that we had even more hilarious inside jokes and fun memories than we do.  Yes, we have countless wonderful memories and photos of our adventures, and they are indescribably invaluable, but my heart aches knowing we could have had more. My sisters have become some of my dearest friends, and when push comes to shove, as annoying as we might have thought each other were growing up, any of us siblings would be there in an instant in the best ways we could if we were needed.  That love is rooted deeply despite differences and years apart. 

But we could have had more.

I am the one who left them behind, potentially like my oldest could to his siblings someday.  The effort to be with my siblings when my summers had faded and theirs were still in full bloom sometimes felt insurmountable and I know in retrospect that I took the days and hours we did have for granted more than I would have ever cared to admit at the time.

It’s that hindsight that has me looking straight ahead at the end of my own children’s summer roads.

He stood up and he hugged me, like he has so many times before.  I thanked him for coming along.  I realize, though I haven’t spoken the realization aloud to him, that at any time, I could tell him that he “has to” come along, and he could refuse, and that would be that. My days of carrying him to the car and buckling him into a seat have been long over.

“I think I’m gonna go get changed,” he told me.  Off he went to put on his swim trunks.  Together, we inflated his tube, and he hit floated out into the lake to laugh beside his siblings.

We all four talked on the way home about trying our best to pause and take in the moments, to take the chances, and to make the memories while we still can.

“Because someday, you can’t” my oldest said. “Like the song.”

I know we likely will not always been in the frame of mind to see adventures and outings that way.  I’m praying I will always have a grateful heart for the days when we do and the patient grace to remember that my children are growing older and more independent, and it will eventually change no matter how hard I try to keep the days from slipping through my fingers.

Please, don't take them!

Tomorrow, my dad is coming to Sioux Falls to visit. When he leaves, he'll be taking my younger sisters back home.

They've been visiting since I picked them up on July 29th. We've been having an amazingly fun, laughter-filled time together. While, I'm sure they're probably ready to be away from a baby crying in the middle of the night, I hope they're a little hesitant to leave at least.

We've had a lot of fun adventures since they arrived. We've gone shopping, swimming at pools, playing at the spray park, going to the water park, volunteering at the humane society, taking a trip to the butterfly house and aquariums, watching a movie in a park, enjoying the falls, relaxing at Barnes and Noble, playing at various playgrounds, renting movies and eating popcorn, going to a Go Fish concert, writing with glow sticks in the dark, going to the Sioux Empire Fair wandering around downtown, eating cupcakes, and laughing our butts off until we could barely breathe. Many activities involved other people, too, like Jake, Jesse, Samantha, Tarah, Rena, and Kayla and her family (of course, Spencer, too).

I think we've acquired at least 3 new punchline-inside jokes that keep coming up in our daily conversations, causing us to giggle like freaks.

We've taken over a hundred photos of Spencer!

It's been amazing. I wish they lived closer. Even though they're 12 and 16 years younger than me, we're close, and we have such wonderful times when we're together. I HATE seeing them leave.

Tomorrow, like I said, my dad will come, we'll go to the zoo, and then they'll be gone.

I wish we could pause tonight, just for a little while. Next week, the house will seem so quiet, and lonely.

Reuniting soon!

This coming weekend is the 2nd Annual "Leora's Family Gathering!" I, for one, am quite excited about the event.

My grandmother, Leora, passed away in 2007. Last year, I planned the reunion on her birthdate. It was significant to me to have the first "official" summer-time family reunion, since her passing, be on her birthdate. It was a birthday party, too, after all!

Growing up, on my mother's side of the family especially, I went to a lot of family reunions. Fosters, Flesners, Shellums, and then Webers, too, from time to time. There may have been a few more, but those were the ones that were held every summer. As a kid, they were fun, and boring at the same time. I mean, we got to run around like little hooligans at my great-grandpa's farm for one of them, and then sit around a small-town community center and try to behave at another, for example. But, we were there, as a family, almost every single year. I can't even recall how many reunions I went to. The best part, I think, is that we always went with my mom's sisters, brothers, and their children.

As a child, my cousins and I (on my mom's side especially) were very close. A lot of that was because the majority of us lived in the same area, southwest MN, and my grandmother had her children over very frequently. Most of my summers were spent with my cousins, going to the pool, camping in backyards, having sleepovers at our houses, raking leaves and making mazes with them, playing at the park near my grandmother's house, and so many more exciting activities. Truthfully, my cousins were some of my closest and dearest friends. I think we were all VERY blessed to be able to say that.

We are so very fortunate to have the parents we have and the grandmother that we had that helped us form those bonds, memories, and lasting sense of the value and importance of family!

As we got older, we grew apart a bit, in distance especially. We're spread out all over, and now we're all busy with things going on in our (mostly) adult lives. (I say mostly, because most of us are adults now.)

That doesn't keep us apart, though!

Even though my grandmother has passed away, we, as a family, think it's still very important to keep the value of family at the forefront. So, last year, I took it upon myself (with a little help from my cousin) to plan that reunion. But, instead of it being a "insertlastnamehere Family Reunion," I decided to call it "Leora's Family." See, a last name isn't as important as belonging to a family, and whether all of her family members are blood or legal relatives, they were definitely a big part of her life.. of all of our lives. For example, even though my parents are no longer together, my dad is still a part of Leora's family. Also, we invite family members who were from the other "branches" of Leora's family, say, her sisters children, other second cousins, my mom's cousins and aunts, for example.

Like I said, I feel very blessed to have the family that I have.

So, this coming weekend is the 2nd Annual "Leora's Family Reunion." It's not over her birthday weekend this year for a few reasons, one being that it's father's day weekend almost every year, and that makes it hard for planning, and second that my aunt, uncle, and their children from Washington state were coming to the area during this particular time of the summer this year. I decided that having it on/nearest her birthday wasn't AS important, because it's still focused on her family and our relationships that she gave us.

I'm so excited. I have, literally, been looking forward to the reunion since I left last summer. My husband wasn't able to attend last summer because of work conflicts (that he managed to work through this summer, hallelujah!), and I was still pregnant with Spencer last summer. So, this summer, I won't be traveling by myself (okay, I guess last summer I did bring Wendell with...), and will have both Jake and Spencer with! It's Spencer's first reunion! Yeah!!

Despite a little situation with the original location (where we had it last year), the planning has been basically effortless and carefree, which is also a blessing. My family is very flexible and willing to bring whatever they can to make it a spectacular time, so it's a potluck event, outdoors, at a park. Yeah, it's going to be hot, but it's going to be wonderful!

I love being able to sit and reminisce, tell stories from the past, and laugh until we cry. I love watching my aunts and uncles interact. I love spending time with my childhood best friends, my "gang" (a nice gang), and seeing how we've all grown so much, gone through so much, and who we've become. I love watching my cousin's children playing in the grass and in the dirt, getting into the food, making messes, laughing, crying, and running around. And OH MY GOSH this year I have a child too!

I love having my camera around, just in case I, or my sisters, or my husband, or my aunts, decide to "stalk" family members, taking photo after photo until they notice us and stick out their tongue or block their faces with their hands.

I hate saying goodbye.

But I love looking forward to the next year's reunion.

Ah! I am EXCITED.

Coronado.

My husband is an amazingly hard worker. He is great at what he does. He's so great at what he does, that he is in the highest bracket of sales, and won a four day, expenses-paid trip to Coronado, California. (Jake is a Schwan's Route Driver, by the way.)

It was REALLY hard to leave home, I will admit, but because I wanted to support Jake in his hard-earned achievement, and I really would (have) benefit(ed) from a vacation, I boarded the plane with him at 6:15am on Thursday of last week. I will admit, I cried the entire way to the airport, most of the first plane ride, and a good chunk of the second, and then at the hotel, and then cried myself to sleep. Yes, I was a fountain of tears.

But, overall, it was a great trip. Jake was amazing, supportive, and caring as I wept randomly throughout the four days. Though he admittedly didn't really understand how I was feeling or what I was going through, he tried, and he was not mad at me for being sad at times. At first, I was worried that he would be so sick of me being emotional that I undercut him and wouldn't even try to express in words what I was feeling, though by the end of Thursday night, I opened up, and it really helped.

Anyway, here's where we stayed:That's the Hotel del Coronado, apparently one of the oldest all wooden hotels in the country, or so said the Historical Marker plaque thing out front. Anyway, it was huge, gorgeous, and right on the beach, so I mean, who could complain about that?

On Thursday, after we arrived, they had Schwan's flip-flops and beach towels for us, as well as t-shirts, and random information that we picked up at the beach, and then had brunch on the beach. Totally cool. Jake and I then decided to nap in our hotel room (which had 2 queen-sized beds) before venturing out for the evening. We went on a walk down Orange Ave. and had sushi for supper at a joint called Yummy Sushi. It was pretty fantastic! That night, we went for a moon-lit walk on the beach and took in the sounds of the ocean.

On Friday, we had a Schwan's lunch in the garden area in the center of the hotel. It was delicious, and gorgeous outside. Following lunch, Jake and I went to the beach again for a quick visit, and saw a man there building a remarkable sandcastle. You can see his work at http://www.thesandcastleman.com. Following, we had a business meeting, and then a break before we boarded buses to the night-time sky-line cruise. We were aboard the Inspiration Hornblower for supper and the awards banquet.

On Saturday, we had the day free, so Jake and I went down Orange Ave. again and bought some souveniers for my mom and sisters who were staying at our place with Spencer and Wendell. We had ice cream at MooTime Creamery (much like a Coldstone), and lunch at Bistro d'Asia. We spent even more time at the beach, and watched the sunset over the Pacific. We wrote messages in the sand to photograph for my family and Spencer, and then we got ready for the celebration dinner that was held at Marine Corps Air Station Miramar.

At MCAS Miramar, we were able to get up-close and personal with some of the military aircraft. Truthfully, I don't remember which they had on display but we were able to climb in and out of them and tour them. Jake could probably tell you more.

Then we had dinner inside the hangar, followed by some random entertainers. Then, the big surprise entertainment was revealed... Chicago! Yeah, the band, the one that plays trombone, flute, trumpet, drums, etc. The big-shots with all the hits. I was excited, and also kind of disturbed at the choice, but overall, it was pretty fun to see them live. Jake took video on his cell phone as we didn't remember to bring the camera to the event.

We didn't leave Coronado until the afternoon on Sunday, so Sunday morning we once more walked Orange Ave., and visited a park, then stopped for coffee at Starbucks, and brunch at Bruegger's Bagels. We visited the beach one last time, taking pictures of the massive waves and the sandcastle progress as it stood.

Sunday was a really long day, as we spent five or so hours in the San Diego and Denver airports (not a piece, luckily), plus the time on the flights. Spencer was asleep when we got home, but at 3am the next morning when he woke up screaming with extreme hunger, I still got a few big smiles from him amidst the tears.

It was so wonderful to see him fully awake on Monday. He smiled at everything I said or did for hours on end.

Man, I missed him.

But I was glad I went on the trip too. It really was wonderful to spend quality one-on-one time with my husband. I had, truthfully, forgotten what it was like. It was really strange to realize that. And, since I hadn't been away from Spencer for more than an hour while I was awake, it was really hard to leave for four days for the first time, but it was worth it, even if it was hard and I cried my heart out at least seven times.

You can see more pictures by clicking here.

T minus 14 Days.

In a little less than two weeks from right now, Jake and I are boarding an Airbus headed for San Diego.

I have some very contradicting feelings about this entire rendezvous.

It is a "free" trip, that Jake won through work. The highest selling Schwan's men in the country all go on this "convention" type trip. It is fun, and it is boring, too. We go to a super ritzy resort/hotel (this year the Hotel de Corona, I think, last time it was the Wynn in Vegas) and stay on Schwan's tab. Totally cool. But, we also have to sit through what seems to be countless hours of boring business meetings (sorry, Schwan's, but they're not exciting) and try really hard to focus and stay awake. It's hard to do, I promise.

We get free time, occasionally, but most of the time is occupied with Schwan's focused meetings and dinners. But, we eat most of our meals for free too, so score.

I am excited to go and very proud of Jake for winning the trip again this year. I really am. He worked HARD for this. So, naturally, I want to go in support of him.

But, I really am dreading leaving. Spencer won't even be three months old when we leave at 6:32am on Thursday, the 20th. I have only been separated from him for a matter of hours since his birth. It's going to be a huge punch in the lungs when I arrive in San Diego, baby-less, and want nothing more but to see him, hold him, and cuddle him.

Yes, we'll "get to" sleep through the night, but will I be able to? I can't say that I will.

I'm afraid I'll be spending the entire trip sad, missing him, and just in a hurry to get home.

Luckily, my mother is coming to stay with him at our place, so we don't have to pack him up and transport him elsewhere, but I worry for her, a little bit. What if he's super cranky the whole time we're gone? It's going to, I would think, be very hard on him too.

So, we leave Sioux Falls around 6:32am on the 20th, and return to Sioux Falls around 11:13pm on the 23rd.

It's going to be so hard to go.

Shakespeare Hates your Emo Poems.

I guess I don't really have anything important to say, but yet, I felt like writing on here, so, here I am, doing just that.

This past weekend, Jake and I took our "last vacation without a child," meaning simply, before Spencer is born. We packed up our things, including Mr. Wendell, and headed for the cities (after dropping Wendell off with my family). We spent two nights with Miss Best Friend and her husband, at their very spacious, spectacular new apartment. Both Jake and I were very impressed with the space. I particularly loved their red wall in the living room, as well.

David, MBF's husband, made Mexican food for us when we arrived on Saturday. It was super delicious. Breakfast the following morning was equally wonderful.

The "main goal" for the weekend, I guess you could say, was to attend the Renaissance Festival in Shakopee. Jake and I attended together a few years back, and had a wonderful time. He mentioned to me in August that we could go, and of course, I had been excited ever since. Michelle had never been there, so we purchased tickets for she and David to attend with us.

Jake wore a (my) t-shirt that reads, "Shakespeare Hates Your Emo Poems," which was a hit, as many people commented on it throughout the day. He even had his picture taken in it by people actually working there. I was highly entertained.

We enjoyed watching Johnny Phoenix, who is a comedian/magician/entertainer guy, as well as Puke & Snot (they are much more entertaining than their name would allow you to think), watched a glass artist at work (I was completely entranced, as Jake put it, I had "droopy jaw" as I watched him work), enjoyed the banter at vegetable justice (where you throw tomatoes at a dude's head, basically), meandered through the petting zoo, and caught a few glimpses of the live joust and horse show. I forget what else. We did a lot of wandering, talking, and reminiscing, as well as planning trips with Spencer and the excitement that will bring.

On Sunday night, we watched the new "Star Trek." I hadn't ever seen the old one, nor knew anything about Star Trek... so I was kind of lost, but enjoyed it for the most part!

On Monday morning, Michelle, Jake, and I (David had to work, unfortunately), walked to the Good Day Cafe, which is where the bridal breakfast was the morning of their wedding, actually. My Almond Encrusted Brioche was fantastic. My mouth is watering just thinking about it now. Following, we met up with Jake's younger sister and her boyfriend at the Mall of America, for all of five minutes, before having to leave. While we were there (I guess we were probably IN the mall for 15 minutes, maybe 20), Jake and I ran into one of our ushers from OUR wedding, and his wife, and their TWO kids! We knew they had the older one, Ayden, because he was a baby when we got married. But now they have another son, Danny! And Ayden is tall! It made me realize how bad we were at keeping in touch with them, and how much I missed the days when they were a part of our lives. It was wonderful to catch up with them while we had the chance, though.

We were even fortunate enough to visit with Jake's best friend, Brian, for a short while, after we picked up he and his family from the airport!

When we got back to Sioux Falls, Jake drove through a few car sales lots, and we realized that Wendell was oddly excited about the activity.

SO, I guess the babble turned into a recap of my weekend. I hope that wasn't too incredibly boring for you.

Jake and I had cupcakes on Saturday before we left. Well, actually I didn't. Jake had two before we got to Minnesota, and I had one after we arrived in Minnesota. I had purchased two for myself, and we also picked out one for each of my sisters as a surprise gift, but then my youngest sister had a friend with her and she wanted my other one and I'm just that nice that I couldn't say no to a kid, so I gave it up. We forgot to get one for my dad (love you dad!), so I owe him!

They're delicious, fyi:

While talking with Michelle, we decided that we think Jake should blog about being a first-time father. I think it would be lots of fun to read, whether he is my husband or not. Wait, that makes it sound like I might divorce him... which I won't, so... uh... Oh look, it's 10:07 and I've been up since 5:49. I'm going to bed. Haha.