Man of Many Projects

Thinking back I can't remember a single repairman ever coming to our home when I was a kid. The time the pipes froze under the kitchen sink...my dad took care of everything..I can still see him huddled under those cabinets with the blow torch lit. Or when our lower level (a fancy way to describe a walk-out basement) needed updating and remodeling...my dad did it all. He ripped out the 1970's red shag carpets, hung and painted new drywall, designed and built walk-in closets with cedar lined drawers...and the list goes on and on. But the many talents he possesses are not limited to only home improvements and carpentry because he's also a whiz at general car mechanics, boat engine repair, antique car restoration, and lawn design. At least once a year some huge project evolved from his imagination. One summer it was the expansion of our sundeck complete with a privacy wall of his design and a new outdoor table fashioned from a door! Or the time he winterized our house by switching us over to wood heat by installing wood burning stoves on both levels, creating a wood shed with a secret door (making cords of wood accessible from our breezeway so you didn't have to brave the elements outdoors when stacking) all in order to save some money on heating bills. His expertise in all things extended to more than just repairs and building for a purpose because these schemes and ideas of his were put to work in order to maximize the fun of every situation. For example, each winter he would build elaborate jumps at the bottom of our sled hill to maximize lift. Or how he would take the snow blower to the pond out back to clear the ice once the river froze...but if it hadn't frozen yet he would create our own ice rink using the garden hose on our backyard. I remember camp-outs in random boats he had just purchased to fix up and learning to drive in antique cars with three on the tree. I don't believe there is anything he can't fix or figure out! When I really stop to ponder what he's capable of doing it's pretty darn extraordinary. And it makes him exactly who he is...my dad of many projects. (By the way his latest project has taken him to northern Michigan via his motorcoach after spending the summer in Colorado working as a handyman...and remember he's retired!)

Wishing

I know that she's already in agony. She tries to hide it...to pretend it's not really there. She doesn't share the hurt and confusion often. It's simply too much. Because behind the bright green eyes and effervesent laughter...her tears are only a blink away. Barely beneath the surface...I can see it. Her pain. The type of pain that cuts her heart out...knowing that her brown-eyed boy will soon have to face loss and pain and sadness...and she can't shield him. Knowing the turmoil she has faced over these past several years and the bottomless love she feels towards her babies makes me want to just wish this all away all the more. But, she has to witness it firsthand. She might even be blamed for it. I'm wishing I could take away her worry. I'm wishing I could somehow wave that magical wand and change the crappy circumstances that her son will soon experience. I'm trying to cover them both with my prayers. I'm wishing she turns to me or Him or anyone who can help them through this. I'm wishing.

Sometimes a reminder is necessary.

Like after the miserable week you've just spent with a forty plus body that wouldn't function independently without a z-pac, several boxes of tissue and ridiculous amounts of rest. But, after spending seven long days headachy and exhausted I'm reminded good health and unlabored breathing are often unrecognized joys which should be celebrated.

Or when your oldest child exits her room early Sunday morning asking, "Mom, do you want to go to the beach so we can read the Bible together?" Suddenly, I'm reminded how much this girl inspires me and the gratitude I feel witnessing God's influence on this child's heart which, in turn, brings me closer to Him.

Or yet again after your daughter states quite plainly after walking past a beautiful and unexpected bouquet of white roses, "I hope that my husband brings me flowers, like Daddy does for you." And while the man I married can easily drive me to drink on any given day of the week, I'm reminded of his commitment and devotion to us, our marriage and family.

Or while your youngest child places her thirteen year old hand lightly across your thigh while watching one of her favorite shows together after a long day at school. I am reminded that regardless of how old she professes to be via her mascaraed lashes and flat-ironed hair, she is a little girl who still needs her mom to be close.

It doesn't take much. Just a brief moment. To know and be reminded.

She's Changing

My little crazy girl with the bright blue eyes is changing. Each day some small alterations to her personality and appearance are taking place. Awesome changes. She's truly turning into a young woman...right before my eyes. Maybe it's the eighth grade and the influence of her peers. But, it seems to be so much more. She's confident. And she's comfortable in her own skin. So, she's stretching her wings just a little bit more each day. Happy. Sure of herself. Maybe she's trembling on the inside...but I really don't think so. God has graced her with a self-assurance that just seeps from her pores. Like I said, she's changing.

(love this photo she took...a kaleidoscope of Kinsey)