Category Archives: Family Footprints

Running Grandma

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Two years ago, I ran Grandma’s IMG_5966Marathon as a grandma for the first time.  I proudly emblazoned the fact on my running top, and enjoyed the resulting cheers along the way.  It was a great – no grand – variation on a race that was otherwise an annual affair for me.  And stopping to kiss the baby at mile 21 just before Lemon Drop Hill was definitely a timely energy boost.

Yesterday I was a running Grandma as well, only this time it was behind my second grandchild.  I wasn’t chasing her, I was pushing.  What a great invention these running IMG_7953strollers are!  They glide with ease, turn on a dime (not always where I intend, however), and absorb all the curbs and bumps I might find along the way.  Best of all, they turn drivers into the most polite and accommodating citizens I’ve ever seen. Perhaps it was the wiry but distinctly gray haired runner piloting the stroller that compelled them to stop and grant me priority to proceed at every intersection.  I was fortunate that at two months, the baby wasn’t much of a payload and we managed a good pace.  But I still managed to convince myself that I was getting more workout per mile.

This grandma has plenty of good reasons to keep on running.  And maybe one day it will be with those grandchildren at my side!

New Twist on an Old Game

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I come from a family of game players. Our specialty is word games. When my husband and I were first dating, I finally talked him into playing Scrabble with me. At first, I trounced him regularly. Then the tables began to turn. He played with strategy! High scoring words were no longer enough to ensure my victory – he began to block my moves. Deliberately! He could turn a Scrabble board into an unplayable assortment of letters in just a few moves. It became a whole new game. Literally. But that wasn’t a bad thing, and it made for a much more genial relationship by balancing out the scores.

This weekend, we had two 10-hour car trips to attend our youngest son’s college graduation. We carpooled with our daughter, her husband and their new baby to and from the festivities. To pass the time, I reached back to a favorite word game that was well suited to car trips in my youth – Jotto. A quick search on the internet quickly refreshed my memory of the rules. It is normally played with two players. Each person thinks up a 5-letter word. The players proceed to ask each other 5 letter words, and the number of correct letters from the secret word is revealed. By repeatedly asking words to rule letters in and out, one can eventually guess the other player’s word. It particularly appeals to my mathematical and analytical mind, as well as word knowledge. But we had three players, so we dreamed up a new approach – round robin Jotto. Player A tries to guess Player B’s word, Player B guesses Player C’s word, and C tries to guess A’s. Surprisingly, it worked out quite well! And suddenly, our game for 2 was expandable to any number of players. Once a player was out (when their word was guessed correctly), it was possible for them to review other players’ answers to try and guess their word as well.

It was good to revert back to pre-technology times and while away the hours with a mere pen and paper. Try it sometime!

Wedding Ice Cream

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I love ice cream.  Fortunately, I married someone who feels the same way.  We share mugs of ice cream late in the evening, and it’s amazing what we can cram into those vessels.

Yesterday was our 29th wedding anniversary.  We had a picnic, went for a walk, and – of course – completed the evening with a trip to our favorite ice cream shop.

It was a fitting celebration, as we did the same thing 29 years ago.  In between the wedding ceremony and the reception, we made a slight detour – to the Dairy Queen.  It was the old style DQ, where we ordered from the window outside.  The servers were so surprised and enamored with the situation that our ice cream cones were on the house!  We arrived at the reception with our treats, linked arms and licked our cones.

Our daughter was married a few years ago.  Guess where the stretch limo carrying the entire wedding party stopped en route to the reception?  DQ.  It must run in the family.

What’s your idea of Camping?

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To my mom, it was “a picnic with tents.”  She was not a fan, but being a good sport she was willing to go along with it.  When my high school friend and I planned a camping trip with our two families, however, she landed in the hospital with a mastectomy instead.  We told her that was going a bit too far to get out of camping.

To my kids, it was “taking a break from the cabin.”  Kind of embarrassing really.  When we bought our cabin, I was thrilled but mourned the inevitable loss of camping trips.  So my husband fulfilled his promise of keeping it alive by taking the family camping just 10 miles away from the cabin.  Walking through the campground, we felt a bit sheepish when our kids proudly announced to other rustic campers, “we’re here from our cabin!”

On a real family camping trip in the Black Hills, it was “more toast please, Mom.”  A rainy morning meant the cooks got wet, but a roomy old canvas tent allowed the kids to play and have breakfast in the dry interior.  It didn’t curb their appetites any, as their hunger for toast seemed insatiable.

On a Boundary Waters canoe trip with friends, it meant sharing dreams.  We were land-bound by thunderstorms and tent-bound by the rain.  Much of the day was spent reading and snoozing, until a voice emanated from the other tent.  “Here’s an assignment for you.  Name 10 vacations you would like to take.”  We whiled away much of the afternoon exchanging fantasies of adventures and destinations.  We’ve even done some of them since.

To my friend, Mary, the mere thought was horrifying.  “What, no hairdryers or make-up?”  The idea of going without for days on end was unfathomable.  But we love her anyway.

Camping seems to mean something different with each outing.  No matter what the circumstances are, it promises plenty of memories.  And with the passage of time, they almost always become good memories.

In Memory of Mom

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This Mothers’ Day has a new twist for me. It’s my first without my own mother. For the first time I will not be seeking out just the right card and gift for Mom on Mothers’ Day. I won’t be stopping by her house to give her a hug and stay for a visit. Even though Alzheimer’s stole Mom’s memory over time, it was still important to mark the day and look for some way to brighten her life. She was still my mom. And she will always be my role model.

Mom was my best cheerleader. There was nothing she thought I couldn’t do. When I took up running, she was the one to let me know that Grandma’s Marathon was starting up a half-marathon. Of course she knew I could do it. No question. And she was there on the course year after year for the full marathons that followed. Two years ago was the first time she missed, and I found it hard to breath as I passed “her” corner.

Mom was there at all my concerts, my recitals, the talent shows. No matter what the event, she was there. When I had kids, she came for their plays, their concerts, their graduations.

Mom taught me to sew like a pro. We matched plaids so well you couldn’t tell there was a seam. When I asked her to make a dress for my daughter’s American Girl Doll (named Molly, of course!), she bought the pattern and made every single outfit! When it came time to prune my closets in preparation for moving, I admit to squirreling away a few treasures that she made for me. I may never again wear the lace-inserted blouse she made, but it was too special to let go.

I wrote to Mom every week. She loved reading my letters. And when she could no longer read them, her caregivers read them to her. Mom always encouraged me in my writing. It’s because of her that I started up this blog – to pursue writing and see where it can take me.

Happy Mothers’ Day, Mom. I miss you.

Up North at the Cabin

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Like all good Minnesota families, we have a cabin Up North.  Ours is a true cabin.  It’s meant for three seasons, but we use it all four.  It has running water, pumped directly from the lake, but with the benefit of a hot water heater for showers and washing dishes.  Drinking water comes in a large jug we bring from home.  Heat emanates from the fireplace, or wood stove – sometimes both.  Appliances are limited to stove and refrigerator.  No TV, no phone.  And limited cell coverage.  I hope it stays that way.

Two bedrooms and main room/kitchen make for cozy space.  Carving a bunkhouse out of the front of the shed when the kids became teenagers was a timely idea – they could make as much noise and stay up as late as they wanted, and we didn’t mind.  Add a sauna, and that’s it.  Simple is best. That’s what cabin life is all about.

Naturally, being in Minnesota, our cabin is on a lake.  There is nothing better than waking up on a summer morning, pulling back the curtain and peering out at a glorious sunrise.  Hearing the loons call is added glory.  Ours is a spring-fed lake, deep and cold.  No matter how warm the summer, swimming is always “refreshing.”  The guys love fishing, the girls prefer hanging out on the dock.  Night times mean playing games or reading books.  Sometimes a bonfire or late-night sauna and jump in the lake.

There is no better place for family time.  We bought the cabin not long after our youngest was born, and we have the best memories from time spent there.  We have a journal recording each visit and photo albums full of pictures.  And plenty of stories to tell.

Tomorrow we head up there to open it up for another summer – let cabin season begin!

The Gift of Time

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Mothers’ Day is still nearly a week away, but I already have my Mothers’ Day presents – time with each of my children.  It was just coincidence that it happened this way, but it was a lovely confluence of events.  At this point in my life, there is nothing more meaningful than spending time with people and creating memories.   And I just stored up a week’s worth of the best of both.

It started with my middle son, Carl.  Despite having moved to DC and started a new job, the arrival of a new niece was reason enough for him to make a special trip home.  So a week ago, he inhabited our extra bedroom once again, and we spent a weekend hanging out as a family and doing some of our favorite activities together – enjoying a meal, going out for coffee after church, playing cards and of course cuddling the new arrival and playing with 2 year old Ben.  It was a low key and relaxing weekend, with time enough to talk and just be.

Immediately afterwards, my daughter, Karen, and I spent three days together in Duluth.  We took advantage of her being home on maternity leave for some special time together, along with the grand-kids.  Just tending to the kids took most of our time – how quickly one forgets just how all consuming that can be!  But it was joyful time with the freedom from other tasks on our plates, with plenty of opportunity to talk and share.  The weather even obliged by gifting us with a beautiful day to sit at the water’s edge at Brighton Beach and throw the endless supply of rocks into the lake.

My next visit required a bit of travel.  Armed with audio books and podcasts, I made the drive out to Indiana for Moms’ Weekend with my youngest son, Erik, at Rose-Hulman.  Even though I knew we’d be back in less than three weeks for graduation, I wanted this last Mom’s time with him.  He got up early to share the decadent B&B breakfasts with me, we went for a long bike ride and rewarded ourselves at Dairy Queen, and he demonstrated the robot he programmed for his Senior Design project.  Walks in the park and seeing the college production of Phantom of the Opera rounded out our weekend.

It is such a blessing to have adult children with whom it is such a pleasure to spend time.  I am a very lucky Mom.

Graduation Travel Tradition

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It started with my husband.  During his senior year of college, he spent a week in Antigua with his parents.  Not with his brothers, just him and his parents.  It made a big impression on him, and he felt it was a special time shared with his parents before he left school and started his first job.  At his suggestion we decided to replicate it.

Even when they were young, we told our children about this plan.  When they graduated from college, we would take them – not their siblings – on a trip, to a destination of their choosing.  Over the years, it became my favorite dinner time probe.  Where do you think you will go for your graduation trip?

Our first trip was to Jamaica.  Our daughter, Karen, wanted a beach vacation, and a place to relax and soak up the sun after a hectic senior year.  We found a wonderful small resort, Catcha Falling Star, perched on the cliffs south of Negril.  We loved our round air-cooled cottage, jumping into the deep blue waters off the rocks, reading by the waterside, and sampling the local fare for dinner.  It was a week of pure relaxation and slow pace.  It was on that trip that Karen shared with us the depth of her love for her now-husband.  Truly a special time!

The next trip took us to Alaska.  Our son, Carl, was looking for adventure and wilderness.  Traveling around the southern portion of the state our favorite venue was Bowman’s Bear Creek Lodge on the Kenai Peninsula.  From there we experienced sea kayaking in Resurrection Bay, fishing for salmon, hiking on glaciers, and enjoyed the best weather of the trip.  The rustic log cabins at Bowman’s and delicious dinner savored on the porch were the perfect complement to our outdoor experience.  We especially relished that week with Carl, as soon afterwards he left for a year’s study abroad as part of his master’s degree program in International Relations.

And now the third and final trip.  Erik will graduate this spring and has selected Banff and Jasper in the Canadian Rockies for his trip.  Hiking and mountains were the key ingredients for him.  The tickets are purchased, lodging reservations in the making, and anticipation is growing.  Now all he has to do is get his diploma.

That will be the end for this generation.  Will they continue the tradition?

Planting the Seed

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When my children were very little, I took up running to stay in shape.  As in most things I do, I jumped into it wholeheartedly, and was soon hooked on running and entering local races.  When I could, I’d bring the kids along and enter them in the kids’ Fun Runs.  They even humored me when they got older, and joined me in some 10k races.

Time marches on.  Kids grow up and become more independent, and parents have more time.  I moved up to half-marathons and then marathons.  It was Mom’s running obsession, but they were always there to cheer me on.  That was the extent of their involvement, or so I thought.

It wasn’t until they got into college that the seeds started to grow.  One by one, they took up running or cycling.  It wasn’t long before they too were reaching for extreme goals.  My daughter joined my husband and me running Grandma’s Marathon.  Two years later we added my youngest son as well!  Our middle son – always the independent thinker, no running for him, thank you – did the MS150 bike ride and the week-long RAGBRAI bike ride across Iowa.  And that was just the beginning – we have shared numerous races and events since then.

How did we become such an athletic family?  Those seeds must have germinated.

Trans-Superior Cycling Tour Unveiled

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This is it, the cause of my sudden attachment to my bicycle, the reason for my forays out into the wind and weather for training, the shift from running to cycling.  It’s the Trans-Superior Tour!

Never heard of it?  Probably because it was my husband Rich’s brainchild.  The route, the idea of spending 9 days cycling together, the challenge, and the custom cycling jersey.  It’s not his first such adventure, but it is mine.  I’m a cycling novice, remember?  But I’m up for it!

I have to admit, his route is rather ingenious.  We wanted to focus on Lake Superior, and many of the best views from the road are on the Western end.  So how to contain the trip to that portion of the lake?  No problem – we’ll just ferry across using Isle Royale as a stop-over!  Not a bad way to get a rest mid-trip and perhaps a few hours of hiking in the wilderness.

So here is the official route.  We start in Duluth, work our way along the South Shore and up the Keweenaw Peninsula, right up to the top at Copper Harbor.  That takes five days and is the most challenging part of the route, with the longest cycling days and the most hills.  From there we ferry across the lake and return along the North Shore to Duluth.

I suspect that whittling down my travel essentials to one set of panniers is going to be one of the trickier aspects of the trip.  However, Rich’s mode of travel involves staying at inns and little motels along the way, so I am spared the need to schlep real gear on this venture.  And I admit I like the idea of reliable shelter, hot showers and real beds.

I have between now and mid-August to be ready for this cycling tour.  I will periodically update my training progress and the finer details of our trip plans during that time.  And if you want the male point of view on this journey, visit Rich’s blog, NorthStarNerd.org.

Oh, and did you read the fine print on the jerseys?  That last line reads “500 Miles of Love.”  It has to be, or we wouldn’t be doing this!