Or more appropriately, “Life is what happens when you are making other plans”.
Thirty three years ago today on June 26, 1976, I entered into a lifelong commitment with Barbara Ann (cue the Beach Boys here). More properly called a covenant relationship known as marriage.
Nothing has turned out as I thought it would. We talked of four children, we have three. Two here, one in heaven. The first two children are beautiful girls. Our oldest child is thriving in her own right, living and working in Germany and growing wiser every day. Our second daughter died in the seventh month of pregnancy from trisome 18 (everything a Downs Syndrome child has and more). Our youngest, a son, came to us in the second month of his life through adoption, or as my brother calls it, “the paperwork method”. He too is growing wiser every day but he lives at home and like many folks today, is looking for work.
It was always our intention to be married “until death do you part”. However, I have been taking it in stages based on my heroes in marriage, our parents. The first step was to be married as long as Barb’s parents before her mother died. We made that a few years ago. Then it was to be married as long as my parents before my father died. We make that mark today! Next up is being married as long as my father-in-law and mother-in-law. They were both widowed and found love again for 35 years before death once again did part. After that goal is reached, the magic number is 50. A number of our aunts and uncles have attained that mark so we look to their lives for inspiration and reason for matching their accomplishments.
This anniversary time is always bittersweet. Today we celebrate being married. Tomorrow we celebrate our second daughter’s feast day. While the pain of losing her will never go away, the joy of knowing she is resting comfortably in God’s loving embrace and the pleasure of her six grandparents sustains us.
Despite all the ups and downs through the years, Barbara Ann still loves me. Life is good.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Baptisms
At Mass this morning we had five children being baptized. Three infants and two siblings, ages three and five. Quite a crowd with all the parents, grandparents and Godparents and other family in attendance.
My wife and I were altar ministers and we had a great view of the Baptisms. As I was watching the action, I was busy guessing which children would be coming through the line where I would be giving Communion.
As the congregation comes through the communion line, I give a blessing to the children who are not old enough to receive the Body of Christ. I enjoy this because the parents love it and the children who are old enough, watch with great fascination as I make the sign of the cross on their forehead. Baptism days are even better because there is chance one of the new Christians will be coming through my line. And when they do, I get to be one of the first members of the church to give them a blessing.
In the midst of my elation this morning, I realized that my hero, Walt, wasn’t in line. Walt is an older, retired gentleman who is usually in the second pew and about the fourth person to receive communion. Walt has that look of wisdom and age about him. He also has a glint in his eye when he receives the bread that tells you he knows there is something very special happening.
I look forward to giving communion to Walt because his smile and that glint in his eye reminds me of the importance of what I am doing and that we are, indeed, the Body of Christ when we receive.
My wife and I were altar ministers and we had a great view of the Baptisms. As I was watching the action, I was busy guessing which children would be coming through the line where I would be giving Communion.
As the congregation comes through the communion line, I give a blessing to the children who are not old enough to receive the Body of Christ. I enjoy this because the parents love it and the children who are old enough, watch with great fascination as I make the sign of the cross on their forehead. Baptism days are even better because there is chance one of the new Christians will be coming through my line. And when they do, I get to be one of the first members of the church to give them a blessing.
In the midst of my elation this morning, I realized that my hero, Walt, wasn’t in line. Walt is an older, retired gentleman who is usually in the second pew and about the fourth person to receive communion. Walt has that look of wisdom and age about him. He also has a glint in his eye when he receives the bread that tells you he knows there is something very special happening.
I look forward to giving communion to Walt because his smile and that glint in his eye reminds me of the importance of what I am doing and that we are, indeed, the Body of Christ when we receive.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Pecking Order
There is a yearly phenomenon (occurrence) in grade school and high school. An eighth grader is finally at the top of the heap, king of the hill, top dog and no longer the little kid in school. “I am somebody!” as Jesse J. would say. The same is true for seniors in high school. But then, reality sets in the following school year and you start all over at the bottom. While I have seen this for years with my children and others as they went from junior high to high school and high school to college, it was brought up again at a new level in my current job.
I work with these wonderful little kids who range from infancy to three years old. They are in age groups of infant, wobbler, toddler and transition. The toddlers and transition kids are just like the eighth graders and high school seniors. They finally get to the status of top dog and then one day, they start all over in the next class room.
I remember eighth graders being real butt heads when I was in seventh grade. Of course, when my class became the eighth graders we were wonderful human beings. We didn’t pick on the younger kids nor do anything mean to them, unlike the classes before us.
With the toddlers, and this holds true for the transition kids, the older kids are very much into pushing and shoving and taking toys and attention away from the younger kids. But there is a God and this June, three of the toddlers reached the ripe old age of two and moved up to the transition class. Back to the bottom of the pile they go.
What I enjoyed about this discovery of the cyclical pecking order was listening to the teachers as they analyzed the kids last week while we were watching them on the playground. It was a consensus that a particular child was ready to move up and that doing so would put him in his place. There is another child who is already in the older class and she will be put in her place because of a younger child moving up. Already the class dynamics have changed. The cliques and groupings are different at two and three years old. It is not surprising then, that as kids enter junior high and high school that they are well versed in the art of taking charge.
I work with these wonderful little kids who range from infancy to three years old. They are in age groups of infant, wobbler, toddler and transition. The toddlers and transition kids are just like the eighth graders and high school seniors. They finally get to the status of top dog and then one day, they start all over in the next class room.
I remember eighth graders being real butt heads when I was in seventh grade. Of course, when my class became the eighth graders we were wonderful human beings. We didn’t pick on the younger kids nor do anything mean to them, unlike the classes before us.
With the toddlers, and this holds true for the transition kids, the older kids are very much into pushing and shoving and taking toys and attention away from the younger kids. But there is a God and this June, three of the toddlers reached the ripe old age of two and moved up to the transition class. Back to the bottom of the pile they go.
What I enjoyed about this discovery of the cyclical pecking order was listening to the teachers as they analyzed the kids last week while we were watching them on the playground. It was a consensus that a particular child was ready to move up and that doing so would put him in his place. There is another child who is already in the older class and she will be put in her place because of a younger child moving up. Already the class dynamics have changed. The cliques and groupings are different at two and three years old. It is not surprising then, that as kids enter junior high and high school that they are well versed in the art of taking charge.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Murphy's Law?
It seems inevitable. I go to the grocery store and grab a cart. Even if I carefully select a cart to make sure the wheels aren't bent or wobbly or whatever, I get a cart that immediately becomes a nuisance once I am inside the store. The cart steers to the right or a wheel is locked or the cart frame is bent and one wheel never touches the ground.
A few weeks ago I went to the grocery store and the cart rack was full of brand new carts. I thought I had a change of luck. Took the very first cart as there was no way I would be able to get a bad cart when they are all brand new.
Once inside the door, the inevitable happened. The right rear wheel went into spin mode. It never touched the ground and the cart steered to the right. What are the odds? I think that somewhere, out there, at a grocery cart manufacturing plant, there is a worker laughing heartily, knowing that a piece of his handiwork is causing someone a less than perfect shopping trip.
A few weeks ago I went to the grocery store and the cart rack was full of brand new carts. I thought I had a change of luck. Took the very first cart as there was no way I would be able to get a bad cart when they are all brand new.
Once inside the door, the inevitable happened. The right rear wheel went into spin mode. It never touched the ground and the cart steered to the right. What are the odds? I think that somewhere, out there, at a grocery cart manufacturing plant, there is a worker laughing heartily, knowing that a piece of his handiwork is causing someone a less than perfect shopping trip.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
A new day
Working in a day care (early childhood education center) has been a change from years at a desk. Changing diapers, wiping tears and runny noses, and going for walks around the room with my two favorite girls is a new way of looking at life. The paperwork I left behind is not important any more, the kids are.
When I walk into the classroom for my shift, my two favorite girls, both of whom are almost two years old, come running over and give me hugs and grab my hands. We proceed to walk around the room several times. It has become a ritual and I can't tell them no. The unconditional love is just wonderful to receive from these ladies.
On my first day at the new job, I was sitting on the floor and leaning over to pick up something (toys or the like) and there was one of my girls standing by me. All of a sudden I feel this very light brushing of a hand on my bald head. I am the only bald guy there. She was just trying to figure out what happened to my hair. Bald may not always be beautiful, but it certainly can be a novelty. The next day, in a different classroom with other kids, I found my bald head being the center of attention again as the kids drove several toy cars and trucks over my head.
All this serves to remind me that I am the oldest person at the center, my coworkers are about the same age as my children and I have more fun with the kids than with any of the adults in the building.
When I walk into the classroom for my shift, my two favorite girls, both of whom are almost two years old, come running over and give me hugs and grab my hands. We proceed to walk around the room several times. It has become a ritual and I can't tell them no. The unconditional love is just wonderful to receive from these ladies.
On my first day at the new job, I was sitting on the floor and leaning over to pick up something (toys or the like) and there was one of my girls standing by me. All of a sudden I feel this very light brushing of a hand on my bald head. I am the only bald guy there. She was just trying to figure out what happened to my hair. Bald may not always be beautiful, but it certainly can be a novelty. The next day, in a different classroom with other kids, I found my bald head being the center of attention again as the kids drove several toy cars and trucks over my head.
All this serves to remind me that I am the oldest person at the center, my coworkers are about the same age as my children and I have more fun with the kids than with any of the adults in the building.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
This blog started out at the request/urging of my daughter and a friend from highschool. I left a desk job at the end of the year and ventured into what my daughter calls "twilight retirement".
In January, I started a new job working part-time at a childcare center.
There have been some advantages to this change. The biggest being that I am enjoying work for the first time in about 30 years. And my blood pressure is down. That pleases my doctor. I also have some time to write. Something I have been meaning to do for about 30 years as well.
While this blog was going to be stories about childcare adventures, it is really about being in my 60th year and trying to figure out what I am going to be when, or if, I grow up. It is going to be the place for me to voice my opinions and thoughts about life in general. Random thoughts from a meandering mind, without interruptions from people who know more than I.
I do not know if anyone will read this blog. Probably my daughter and my friend will because they want to see if I am doing what they encouraged me to do. At the very least, I can read what I wrote and wonder if it makes sense.
In January, I started a new job working part-time at a childcare center.
There have been some advantages to this change. The biggest being that I am enjoying work for the first time in about 30 years. And my blood pressure is down. That pleases my doctor. I also have some time to write. Something I have been meaning to do for about 30 years as well.
While this blog was going to be stories about childcare adventures, it is really about being in my 60th year and trying to figure out what I am going to be when, or if, I grow up. It is going to be the place for me to voice my opinions and thoughts about life in general. Random thoughts from a meandering mind, without interruptions from people who know more than I.
I do not know if anyone will read this blog. Probably my daughter and my friend will because they want to see if I am doing what they encouraged me to do. At the very least, I can read what I wrote and wonder if it makes sense.
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