Tag Archives: Family

In Memory of Mom

Posted on by
1

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

Posted on by
1

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

Posted on by
Reply

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

Posted on by
2

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

Posted on by
1

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.

Pen Pals across Generations

Posted on by
2

I spent my junior year of college studying in the beautiful cathedral city of Durham, England, in one of the finest old universities in the country.  That year gave me an appreciation for living in another country and absorbing its culture through every day life.  I felt strongly that it was important to experience and live with the differences rather than trying to impose our American ways on a foreign environment.  Otherwise, why bother leaving the USA?

It was during that year that I met Mary and we became close friends.  In the pre-internet world, we managed to stay in touch over the years through letters, and treating ourselves to one holiday phone call at Christmas time.  Each time we connected, it was as though we’d just been together days before.  That is the hallmark of true friendship.

One of my parting comments to Mary at the end of that year abroad was to convey a wish.  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if years hence, our children could become pen pals and we could send them across the ocean to stay with each other and experience living in a different country?”  Sure enough, we each married, and had a family.  Our oldest were both girls, just one year apart, and at age six, they began writing to each other.  Their diligence mirrored ours, and their friendship grew.  And at the tender age of 12 (what were we thinking?), we put our daughter, Karen, alone on a non-stop flight to London to visit her pen pal, Ruth.  Several years later, their brothers followed suit.  While their correspondence was more sparse and they found less to talk about on our holiday calls, they still formed a bond.  More trips followed in both directions.

Fast forward through the years, and on to our daughters’ weddings.  Ruth came all the way over with her parents for Karen’s wedding, and last summer we were all present at the quintessential Oxford wedding for Ruth.  It felt so right to be there, like being part of the family.

I had no idea what my wish would spawn.  I do believe my children have acquired the same appreciation for other cultures and an interest in seeing more than tourist sites while traveling.  My own friendship with Mary is stronger than ever, having seen each other through numerous life changing events.  And the distance between us has dwindled dramatically with the help of email, Facebook and Skype.

Now that grandchildren are on the scene, perhaps they will carry on the tradition for yet another generation.  My wish lives on.

Life’s Simple Pleasures

Posted on by
1

It is so easy to rush through life, making lists, checking off our accomplishments, cramming as much in as we possibly can.  But it’s really the little things that are important.  And it means slowing down to savor those experiences.

That’s where grandchildren come in.  I supplied the Easter cut-out cookies, my daughter contributed the brilliant icing colors, and my grandson provided the joy.  Who knew a 22-month-old could spend over an hour dabbing frosting on cookies?  It did me a world of good to shove my perfectionist tendencies aside and embrace his approach to slathering color at will on the fanciful shapes.  Purple duck?  Why not!  Spotted carrots?  Creativity!  Broken cookie?  Samples!  Mixed up frosting?  New colors!

The results were delightful, and I smile every time I open the cookie jar and survey the intense hues before making my selection.  I can’t wait to make Christmas cookies!

What’s in a name?

Posted on by
2

My husband has been blogging for years.  He was an early adopter, and his online persona just sort of evolved, and fits perfectly…  the NorthStar Nerd.  We live in the North Star state, we have a cabin on North Star Lake and well, he is a nerd.  And darned proud of it!  If you have interest in all things techie, particularly social media and collaboration tools, check out his blog NorthStarNerd.org.  There are plenty of interesting off-topic posts as well.

So that left the question of my moniker.  These things can’t be forced, you just know when you find the right thing.  I used my newest best friend – thesaurus.com – to look up various words I thought would describe me.  I bounced around ideas in my head, and being the consummate list-maker, I wrote them down.  But as often happens, inspiration hit when my brain was idle and the wind whipped through my hair, on a bike trail.  I had it!

Petite Perfectionist.  That’s me all right.  I’m small, but I pack a lot of energy, and no one will argue my perfectionist tendencies.  Blogging world, meet the PetitePerfectionist – your host of Superior Footprints!

The Miracle of Life

Posted on by
1

There is nothing like the birth of a baby, especially when it is your grandchild.  With our first, we cherished holding our little bundle, just hours old, in the normal confines of the hospital room.  But this second one had a different plan!

I was the designated grandparent to come stay with big brother, should the trip to the hospital require leaving in the middle of the night.  Sure enough, I got the 3:00am call asking me to come.  I jumped in the car and raced down the highway for the half-hour trip, little suspecting the drama that was unfolding.  I arrived to find two police cars in the street with lights flashing…  Inside, I was met by my son-in-law, Matt, who informed me that baby Mya had already been born!  Less than 10 minutes before, the baby had made her abruptMya footprints entrance into the world, on the bathroom floor attended only by her parents – before any help could arrive!  By then, the police were cheerfully assisting and the EMTs soon joined them.  It was a scene of joyful chaos, as baby and mother were both doing well, and it was just a matter of preparing them for the trip to the hospital.

How privileged I felt to be present.  To see baby Mya, just minutes old, still white with mucous but already gaining a pink glow.  To hug Matt, still fresh from the shock of delivering his own daughter, impressed with his level-headedness through it all.  To see my own daughter, Karen, radiant with joy as they strapped her into a chair to take her downstairs.  Relief and happiness were written all over their faces.  They were precious moments, that will remain with me forever.

When the assembled multitudes finally left the house, and the street returned to darkness, it was unbelievably quiet.  Big brother Ben had slept through it all!  The adrenaline was still pumping through my body, and I could hardly wait for dawn to come so I could take Ben to the hospital and hold that little bundle – cleaned up and wrapped in hospital blankets, as expected.

Click here for Karen’s personal account of Mya’s arrival.

Click here for pictures of the event.

The best birthday present

Posted on by
Reply

“What is that?” my husband asked skeptically.  “A mother/daughter journal”, I replied.  He was clearly not impressed.  To him it was just a hard-bound blank book, probably a last-minute purchase for a birthday present from my daughter.  But I knew better.

Inside was the start of something wonderful.  It was an entry by my daughter, complete with pictures of when she was little and filled with words about what I meant to her.  She captured moments and recounted memories that filled me with warmth.  But the next step was up to me – I was to write back.  Since that day, the cycle has repeated itself many times, as the journal has been passed between us for many years.  Sometimes the exchanges have been in rapid succession; others occurred with months lapsing in between.  But each return fills me with anticipation.  Reading it requires the right time and place – surprisingly, days may go by before I find time to sequester myself for my private read.  But I am always rewarded.

That first entry was in her senior year of high school.  The journal has seen us through her college years, figuring out that her best friend was meant to be her husband, launching her teaching career, wedding planning, and the joy of her first child.  I’ve traversed maneuvering through a job change, easing into empty nesting, performing in a church musical, watching my mom slip away into Alzheimer’s and ultimately her loss.  We’re well into volume 2 with no end in sight.  Just recently I handed it back to her, and can’t wait for her to read my entry and respond.

I knew it.  It was the best birthday present ever.