Tag Archives: Family

Finding Family in St. Louis

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Hailing from 3 widely flung states, I only manage to get together with my siblings – two sisters and a brother – about once a year. Normally it's a family reunion in Minnesota. But this summer the occasion of a family wedding has brought us all to St. Louis for an extended weekend.

With the Laumeier Sculpture Park nearby, it was a natural destination for a walk with my sisters yesterday morning. The park has beautiful grounds and, well, “interesting” sculptures. We failed to see the art in some of them, and could only laugh at the creative descriptions of others. But it made for an entertaining and humorous walk.

The signature sculpture in the park is made of huge steel barrels. It's quite eye-catching due to its huge size and brilliant color. We enjoyed wandering around its base, inspecting it at close range.

 

I rather liked this piece. It even looks like a sculpture. From afar it resembles children dancing or animals swimming. Yet on closer inspection it is largely abstract. The sense movement is obvious, though, and inspired Betsy and me to add our own interpretation to the piece.

 

 

Susie found her own niche in another sculpture. This one features a pumpkin face in the center of a small amphitheater. She found the nose to be particularly comfy.

 

 

But perhaps the best of all was the Tree Womb. It even invited visitors to come on up and enter its lofty space. So we did. There was a wooden floor inside and several windows. It would make a great place to camp out, although I rather suspect park officials would frown on that.

 

 

Today we went to the St. Louis Zoo with more family members. It's an amazing place with extensive animal exhibits, and all free to the public. There's nothing like a zoo to bring out the kid in all of us, including this all-adult group. I loved the big cats with their powerful lean bodies and beautiful colors. But it was the baby animals that captured our hearts.

No family gathering would be complete without sampling the local ice cream. We visited the liveliest place in town, Ted Drewes Frozen Custard. The place was packed, with throngs of people out front. But service was quick and the frozen custard worthy of the crowd. A most fitting way to bond with family members.

There is a lot to be said for reconnecting with extended family. I forget how much we laugh when we are together, and how good that feels. This trip has the added bonus of bringing us back together with our cousins and getting to know their children as adults. It reinforces how much much family means to me, and how fortunate I am to be related to these wonderful people. I'm so very glad I made this trip to St. Louis. With family.

 

 

The Rocks

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Picnic on The RocksWe only knew the place as “The Rocks.”  It was our favorite picnic spot.  On any given day, if the weather was nice Mom would pack up the little grill, food for dinner, and marshmallows.  As soon as Dad got home from work we’d be off to The Rocks.

The prime feature of this site was the huge expanse of flat rock adjacent to Lake Superior.  It was the perfect sitting area, table, cooking platform and viewing spot.  We loved to run around on the rocks, dip our feet in the water and explore.  Mom always brought a towel because someone was bound to fall into the lake.

Adjacent to the The Rocks was a pebble beach, with an endless supply of rocks to skip or throw into the lake.  We spent hours filling Lake Superior with those rocks.

IMG_4204-001Little changes over the years alongside Lake Superior.  That area now known as Brighton Beach is just down the road from our house.  Who knew that years later I would return to Duluth and settle so near The Rocks?  The area is much more park-like these days, with an abundance of picnic tables and park benches for staring out at the lake.  But I still prefer to sit on The Rocks.

I’m continually drawn to this small section of shoreline.  In the summer I run or cycle through it almost daily.  If I set out on a walk, I always end up there.  When the wind churns up the lake, I head there to check out the crashing waves.  In winter I love exploring the continually changing ice formations.  When Mom died, I sought solace on The Rocks, listening to the lapping water.

DSCN8992Mom and Dad introduced me to The Rocks.  Now I enjoy sharing them with my kids and grandkids.  That pebble beach is like a magnet, the rocks irresistible to all ages.  No visit to Duluth is complete without going down to the lake and throwing rocks.  No matter what season.

No doubt, years from now it will still be the same.  And I have no doubt it IMG_0328will always have that same appeal.  The big flat rocks will host picnics, and the pebbles will find their way into the lake.  Its name may change again, but to me it will always be The Rocks.

 

 

Mothers Forever

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Mothers’ Day evokes memories of those hectic years raising young children.  The sloppy kisses, hand made cards and the great Fishing-Opener-Mothers-Day weekends at the cabin are all part of my Mothers’ Day repertoire of happy memories.

But what is even more rewarding is to see it continue into adulthood.  As my children have grown into adults, our relationship has naturally changed.  They are all out own their own now, but we still enjoy each others’ company.  In addition to the usual family gatherings, I’ve been extremely grateful to be able to share some special times together with each of my children.

In this case, I think pictures speak better than words.

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Karen inherited my love of running, and we fulfilled a collective dream running the Boston Marathon together, crossing the finish line holding hands.

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Canoeing in the Boundary Waters is one of Carl’s passions – we spent 4 great days together on a mother-son canoe trip.

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Erik taught me to skate ski, which led me to take up marathon ski races – here we are before the start of the Mora Vasaloppet.

I have my own mother to thank for the same relationship.  Thinking back, one of the best things I ever did was to join her on a theater trip to London.  It seemed extravagant at the time, leaving my husband and family to fend for themselves while Mom and I traveled together.  But it was worth every mother-daughter minute.IMG_0982

Being a Mom never ends.  I look forward to many more years of special times and adventures with my children and now grandchildren.  I’m so glad it’s a forever thing.

Marathon Madness

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Marathon running.  It’s addictive.  And catching.  I’ve managed to rack up 15 of them, more than half at Grandma’s Marathon, so when my son and daughter signed up this year I couldn’t help but feel the urge to join them.  But there was a catch – we were invited to an out of town wedding that day.

By that point, I was mentally hooked.  Disappointed that I couldn’t run in the same race with them (after all, half the fun is the camaraderie), I could still run a marathon.  Enter the Minneapolis Marathon.  Never mind that it’s 3 weeks earlier than Grandma’s, and my training window was already short.  I could also ignore the never-ending winter in Duluth that wreaks havoc with getting in daily runs.  And I could justify it on the premise of adding another unique marathon to my collection.  I wrestled with the idea for weeks.  Finally, with a registration price increase looming the next day, at 11:45pm I did it.  I registered.

Minneapolis Marathon logo

So far, no regrets.  I love having it out there as a goal, creating a purpose for my runs.  And admittedly, a reason for long training runs.  (I’ve always said that marathons are the perfect excuse for those obsessed with running!  Yes, that would be me.)  With just one month to go, I’m feeling good.

This is my first marathon since retiring.  What a difference – no longer do I have to shoehorn in my long runs.  If the weather doesn’t cooperate on my designated day, I just pick an alternate day or time.  I’ve also managed to time a few trips to the Cities to do a long run with my daughter.  Spending hours on the run is always much more enjoyable with company!  I know better than to try and run with my son – my goal for finishing is at least an hour longer than his.  But we still compare notes and cheer each other on in our training.  We may not all be in the same race, but we’re in this together.

Yes, I’m looking forward to toeing the start line.  Am I mad to do this?  Perhaps.  But I’ll be in good company.

A Day of Storytelling

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Some things can't be orchestrated. They happen in their own time. When all the stars align. Today was one of those days.

We've been with Dad Hoeg for a week now, making sure his recovery stays on track. He honestly doesn't need us for much. We're mostly an insurance policy at this point, and we try to keep him company. I've done my best to plant leading questions and gently probe some family history, but all to no avail. He stays mum.

But after lunch Dad's tongue finally loosened. Something triggered a story, and before we knew it another followed. He got on a roll and was unstoppable. No need for us to encourage him, he had plenty of fascinating material. It didn't matter that some stories recycled within minutes, or that unrelated topics were spun together. Two hours later, we were still at the table with our dirty dishes in front of us – an unheard of transgression in a household where everything is tidied up immediately. But no one cared, and we were still listening intently.

I commenced making a batch of cookies thinking Dad was winding down, but no. He kept me company with more tales throughout the baking process. It was an afternoon of insight and delight. I happily abandoned my usual afternoon bike ride so as not to miss anything.

We took Dad to a pizzaria for dinner tonight. On the walls were pictures of New York City, baseball players and other memorabilia. That sent Dad down another trail of stories. We were fascinated as he related tales of the famous people he had treated or met during his many years of medical practice. I never knew that he had crossed paths with Judy Garland, or that Babe Ruth had been treated at the Duluth Clinic.

The whole mood of our visit was transformed today. While previously each day seemed so long and we wondered just how to fill it, this day flew by. We were taken on a number of journeys and privy to Dad's brush with the aristocracy and a life style of yesteryear. It was past 10pm by the time we all headed to bed – shockingly late for Dad.

Storytelling is a gift. And we were the grateful recipients today.

 

Spanning the Generations

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It feels as though we are living in a time warp. Leaping three family generations in a week has dramatically influenced our daily routine and energy requirements.

Last week we hosted our two grandchildren, age 2 and almost-4 for three days while our daughter and her husband went on a long awaited trip. We were instantly reminded how busy toddlers can be, and the wisdom of having children at a young age. It's a good thing we are both very fit, as we needed all our reserves to keep up with these two whirlwinds.

Ben and Mya enthralled by the train

Even at this tender age, the kids have amazing memories. Ben eagerly awaited the reappearance of the Lionel train set that came out when they last visited in January. Unfortunately, the train proved a bit finicky and we had to do a lot do dancing and explaining while Rich spent a frustrating and hair raising day trying to get it to work. Fortunately he ultimately prevailed, and the train chugged around the track once more. Rich even replenished the liquid smoke so the engine could send up puffs of smoke. Whew!

Making our favorite chocolate chip cookies

My specialty is baking with the kids. Ben is meticulous about measuring and pouring ingredients into the bowl, and loves the whole process. Mya's favorite part is spooning out the cookies. Both like to eat the dough, particularly when I'm not looking. And we all proclaimed the finished cookies delicious.

From squabbles to hugs to the endearing things they said, they kept us on our toes. It was an action-packed three days. As usual, we were only able to squeeze in a couple of the excursions I had planned for them. Somehow just managing meals, naps, diaper changes and playtime seemed to fill the days. And it still resulted in lasting memories.

This week we are on the opposite end of the spectrum. Jumping from Minnesota and toddlers to Florida and Rich's dad has been quite a shift in focus. Recovering from a serious staph infection and lengthy hospital stay, Dad Hoeg has gradually been regaining his strength. The purpose of our visit was to help care for him at home and provide company and transportation.

Upon our arrival, we were surprised and pleased to see that Dad Hoeg has progressed to near-independence. In fact, today while we watched (with a little trepidation) he made his first solo trip, driving himself to the barber. While our care duties are light, we still continue to hang near the house. His routine governs ours. And our pace of life has slowed waaay dooowwwnn.

Mealtime!

The little things in life have now become the highlights of our days. A trip to the grocery store becomes a social event, as all the workers greet Dad by name. Watching any activity on the quiet street out the kitchen windows is always a source of conversation. Judge Judy is not to be missed on TV at 4:00pm. And going out for dinner is a big treat, for all of us.

Our environment has changed from dodging toys strewn across the floor to making sure our beds are properly made and up to Dad's rigorous standards. Nothing is ever out of place here.

Dad's improved health does allow us to get out and enjoy the beautiful warm weather. Even just sitting out on his patio is a pleasure. We've done a lot of reading, taken walks in the warmth of the evening after dinner and enjoyed the blossoming plants in his yard.

What a difference a week makes, navigating this generation gap.

 

Sudden Change in Plans

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It's not what we had planned at all. But life has a way of throwing us challenges and curve balls when we least suspect it. And our job is to do the right thing and make the best of it.

For me, our stay at Snow Mountain Ranch got off to a rocky start (pun intended!) when I brought along the flu and shingles bugs I'd been harboring for two weeks already. Energy zapped and battling the symptoms, I've had to scale back my normal instincts to hit the trails and spend as much time skiing as possible. It's not easy when surrounded by mountains and opportunities to ski and snowshoe. But my body tells me otherwise.

Then came the phone call. Rich's dad was in the hospital, and needed a family member to come be with him and see him through surgery and recuperation. Less than 24 hours later, Rich boarded a plane for Florida without booking a return flight. He's where he needs to be, and the YMCA was more than understanding about his sudden resignation and departure.

It feels strange to be here without Rich. Life goes on, and perhaps fortunately my work schedule has me busy for the next 4 straight days. I am surrounded by caring fellow volunteers who have quickly become our friends, and they are all looking out for me.

Just at the time we long to be connected and be able to talk, Rich and I are technology challenged. My phone has no service here, and Rich doesn't have internet at his Dad's house. Text messages are the best we can do, and arrange to talk via Skype when we can work it out. Between work schedule, hospital hours and the time difference, that's not always easy. In an age of instant communication, we feel the gap acutely.

The plan is to be reunited some time late next week – just in time for our return to Minnesota. It's doubtful we will linger on our trip home as originally planned. I expect instead we will be anxious to return to some semblance of normalcy.

Our memories of Snow Mountain Ranch may be a bit tarnished. But in no way is it the fault of the program. It lived up to all we expected and more, and there are many highlights we will remember fondly. And it's likely we will return. Hopefully next time things will go more according to plan.

 

Permission to be Kids

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There’s nothing like the holidays to provide ample opportunity to shed our adult persona and reconnect with our inner child.  Add to that an abundance of snow, and the possibilities are endless.

1500812_704546786668_1722331551_oOn Christmas day my sons and I headed out on snowshoes to enjoy the deep powdery snow. After averting near disaster when my foot broke through into the flowing Amity Creek, we sought safer ground and stuck to trampling through the woods.  With big fat snowflakes falling, it was an idyllic scene.  We eventually made our way down to the Big Lake.  The snow layer was 1531867_704546991258_540783886_omuch thinner there, but Brighton Beach’s rocks were encased in a thick coat of ice, which was beautiful but treacherous for any kind of foot travel.  Backing up from the shoreline, we found a cache of rocks under the snow and proceeded to do what any kid would do there – throw rocks in the lake.  Since the shoreline was ice-bound, it became a game to see who could break through the ice with a rock, producing a mini spurt of water through the hole.  What better way to spend Christmas afternoon, than having a rock throwing contest amid ice and snow?

IMG_0684Throw a couple of toddlers into the mix, and the fun multiplies.  After a morning of sledding on the neighbor’s hill, my grandson proceeded to lead me on a tour of the woods in our yard.  Seeing the snow, trees and findings of nature through his active imagination was one of the most delightful hours I have spent in a long time.

Kids of all sizes love Christmas Bentleyvillelights, so a visit to Bentleyville has become an annual tradition.  This year the milder temperatures allowed us to linger and enjoy all the offerings of that expansive holiday display.  After roasting marshmallows and warming ourselves by the fire, the lively music caught the ears of the littlest ones who began to wiggle and dance. An impromptu family dance party ensued, as we couldn’t resist their merriment and joined in the fun.

As family members gradually drift back to their own homes and we resume our own routine after the holidays, I only hope that we can keep some of the kid alive in each of us.  It’s far too much fun to reserve for the holidays.

Holiday Music Traditions

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Christmas is a season rich in musical traditions.  Coming from a family steeped in music, I have fond memories of Christmas caroling out in the cold with family and neighborhood friends.  I sang in countless Christmas concerts, and mustered family members to play musical instruments in church for Christmas services.  It was a joy to see the tradition continue when our children were old enough to sing in Christmas concerts of their own.  And when they went on to sing in college choirs we were treated to some of the finest musical tributes of the season.

With college graduations behind us, we decided the trips to distant campuses were no longer necessary.  Instead, we have visited local colleges to sample their Christmas music.  It’s amazing the talent we have in our midst.

This year, however, I was drawn back to the past.  In middle school and high school, our daughter Karen spent five magical years singing under the direction of Julia Fahey in the Partners in Praise Girls’ Choir.  It was an experience that would shape her life, both musically and personally.  The music that the choir produced, the discipline that it required, and the mutual respect that each member had for each other were of the highest standard.  They traveled internationally, performed spontaneously in public places and sang in prestigious venues, but more than that, they won the hearts of all who heard them sing.  As Karen put it, Julia taught them so much more than just music.

So when I realized that I would be in the Twin Cities close to the time of their annual Holiday Benefit Concert, it was no decision at all to extend my stay long enough to attend.  As always, it was an evening that filled my heart as well as my holiday music quota.  The girls looked so young and I didn’t recognize a single one, but it was the same choir.  They still had the that special sound, the spirit, and they owned the music. When alumni were invited up to sing, I couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down my face as Karen took her place among the other singers.  They all still sang like angels, just with richer more mature voices.

I couldn’t get enough of the music that night.  This was one holiday music tradition that was well worth going back to relive.  I just may have to do it again next year.

 

It’s a Blue Ball Year

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We finally bought our Christmas tree late last week.  Our old faithful, the Duluth Farmers’ Market, came through for us, but we barely made it in time.  They apologized for the slim selection, adding that most people bought their trees Thanksgiving weekend.  We were a few weeks later than that…  But the real explanation was the snowfall.  Because of the deep snow, they have been unable to access the remaining trees on that lot that they intended to cut yet this year.  So their inventory has been frozen.  Literally.  Luckily for us, we still found a nice tree and happily carted it home.  As predicted, the Market sold out by Saturday.

Fortunately, since it is a Blue Ball Year, Rich was actively engaged in trimming the tree, and it went up quickly.  Blue Ball?  Early on in our marriage we reached an impasse over Christmas tree decorations.  I already had a collection of carefully selected ornaments that I had gathered over the years.  Many of them were hand made by me or by friends, some were souvenirs from trips, a few were from my parents’ tree, and all had special meaning to me.  But not to Rich.  He wanted blue balls.  Period.  For him, that brought back memories of his parents’ earliest Christmases when they could only afford simple blue balls for decorations.  The elegance and simplicity of the tree still resonated with him.

IMG_0622Since hand crafted ornaments and blue balls didn’t mix, we arrived at a compromise.  We would alternate years.  So every other year I get to handle my treasured collection of ornaments and memories, and continue to add to the array.  On the alternate years, Rich merrily hangs blue balls.  It has turned out to be a good system, and has kept the peace for 30 years now.

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The good news is that the tree is now up and decorated.  The lowest balls are a good plastic imitation of the shiny breakable variety, in preparation for the arrival of the grandchildren.  And an active cat, who delights in denuding the lower two feet of the tree.

It now feels like Christmas in the house.  The remaining decorations are up, and I even have a few Christmas cookies made.  Soon presents will appear under the tree, and family will begin to arrive.  Ah, Christmas!

And then I will begin anticipating next year, and triggering special moments with each unique ornament I hang.