Finding a Way

The other night before I set out to go see my mom and little brother, Dad was in my dream.  We were at a family gathering and attempting to take a big group picture.  As is usual, it was a bit of mayhem and chaos trying to coordinate and figure out who would go where and was everyone looking at the camera.  I was hanging back a little bit watching the scene unfold and was amazed to see Dad light on his feet and joking around...I turned to my Mom who was by my side and said, "Wait a second, Dad's here?!" to her.  She was as shocked as I was and we both kept shaking our heads in disbelief.  Then, Dad ran a circle around the group, jumped up in the air and kicked his feet, then snuck back in for the picture.  He was full of mischief with a huge grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye.  I sputtered out, "But wait, he's standing without any help, he just jumped up, look how fast he's moving!" while Mom stood there with her mouth hanging open...then in walked some family members and friends who had not been able to come to the funeral.  No one was wearing masks and six feet definitely did not separate individuals.  I walked around asking, "Where is your mask?  Aren't you afraid you're going to get sick?  What are you doing here?!" to which folks responded saying, "The virus is gone and your Dad got better!  We still came anyway because we wanted to celebrate."  The party wasn't for a celebration of a life after a funeral as it was a celebration of a life and celebrating that Dad was healed!

As that realization sunk in during my dream, I cautiously allowed myself to go back to the picture group and slipped inside for the picture.  Dad threw an arm around me and beamed a smile at me.  Immediately, the dream shifted and my brothers, Mom, and I were all around the bed by Dad.  He was still energetic and talking with us but was sitting up in his bed.  Immediately, some of the joy from the picture scene of the dream turned to anxiety as I recognized the scene but was confused as to why he was so energetic in that bed compared to how he was the last time I saw him on that piece of furniture.  I forced myself to stay in the present moment and pushed the worry and anxious thoughts aside.  As this part of the dream came into focus, I realized that he was saying bye to each of us with special messages for each brother.  He grabbed each face and looked us in the eye as he said whatever it was that was being said.

With each goodbye, the emotion built up as if we were all ascending a mountain together as a family.  Dad was at the bottom lifting each of us and Mom was perched atop our hands.  As we got closer to the top, Dad slipped further and further behind not holding as much weight as my brothers bore the weight more...eventually, as we made it to the top, Mom and I were at the front of the pack with my three brothers standing tall and strong around us in a protective arc.  This was so interesting in the dream as this scene played out side by side next to the bed scene.  I was acutely aware of both scenes side by side during the dream but forced myself to stay more in the scene with my Dad for my turn to hear from him.  He placed his hands on my shoulders and pulled me in for a big bear hug.  He was sad but I could detect a glimpse of joy in him.  It was as if he knew what was next and where he was going.  It felt like he was going on a trip but he wanted to say one more goodbye before getting on the road.  I wondered what he might say when it was my turn and pulled back from the hug so I could see his lips as he spoke.  He simply said, "I love you, Schmeggly Annie", then I woke up...left reeling and feeling as if I had just had a hug from him.

I couldn't sleep the rest of the night as I thought about how different this scene in the dream was from what had actually happened on April 17th. 

I tried so hard to get him to say, "I love you" one more time in the last hours.  So much so that my brothers and Mom laughed when the last couple of times I said, "Dad, we love you", that he said, "Oh, stoooop!" during one of his restless agitated episodes.  We knew he didn't mean it but it was funny in the moment the way he said it like a toddler who wants to have a tantrum when the parent is trying to calm the child down (don't ask me how I know about that sort of thing).  ;) 

As I mulled over what could the last words have been for each of my brothers in the dream vs. what seemed to be so much shorter when he spoke to me, I realized that my dream was playing out what I had hoped would be closure for Dad or dare I say for us as we work to process through everything that happened two weeks ago.

This is when the rainbow was still pretty far away but we got pretty close to it after a while!

Later, as I drove to Delaware, I pulled off on some random road in Maryland when Charlotte needed to use the restroom.  A small red (Dad's favorite color) cardinal was sitting on the side of the road watching the cars at the foot of a rainbow Charlotte and I had been following for quite some time.  Dad and I had spent a good bit of time looking at the cardinals outside his bedside window in the weeks leading up to April 17th and I had just explained to Charlotte in the car that rainbows are a symbol or promise from God that everything is going to be okay.



Everything is going to be okay.

Trying to Do It All

But we can’t actually do it all. No one can take care of kids full time and work full time. The kids need to come first. So now is a good time to lower your expectations, hold your kids close, and take care of yourself. Do the work that matters most to you, and that will make the most difference to your students, your colleagues, and your fields. It’s not about quantity. Getting one main work task done each day is plenty (and some days even that may seem impossible).

No one knows how long this is going to last, and, in many ways, that lack of certainty goes against the training, goal setting, and planning that have helped us get where we are in our academic careers. As academics we are used to applying for grants and planning research and conference trips months and months in advance. But it’s helped to let go of that need for long-term planning and thinking, and instead to focus on what is immediately in front of us and what needs to be done to move forward to tomorrow.

The above are the last two paragraphs from this article my sister-in-law sent me tonight. She works in higher education as well. These last couple of weeks we have been trading stories about trying to juggle it all as moms of littles while working in academia.

This article helps me to see why the struggle is so real. Professionally, I am hard wired to have many different plans in motion through the research, teaching, and service arenas yet all that has come to a grinding halt or significantly slowed due to the virus. Throw in the changes in my personal life as well and everything has gone haywire. Yet, being busy keeps the tears at bay. When is too much too much though?

Yet again the term, intentionality, comes to mind...the authors in the article say to let go and do what matters the most to you....which leads to the juxtaposition of momming and teaching - - two roles I love and was born to do!

An unexpected silver lining during these days of teaching four full classes online, advising remotely, and attempting to research, I haven't had the chance to be sad over being unable to bear more children. My mind can't help but be grateful that all the struggle with balancing is for one child rather than having to try to meet the needs of more than one at the moment. Four years, one month, and 22 days of the almost constant ache of secondary infertility has dulled during this time of COVID-19. Or perhaps the fresh pain of not having the physical presence of my Dad is overshadowing it. Guess time will tell but if I am being honest, I suppose I need to be thankful for the virus pushing me further on to acceptance and perhaps peace of being a family of three.

In spite of having a smaller family, the struggle of trying to get it all done each day is so... well, large! Yesterday, I literally had to resort to setting the timer for 15 minutes to do some grading then set it for 10 minutes to play with Charlotte before repeating the cycle again. She saw it as a game but I felt guilt and like I couldn't fully devote my attention to both tasks at hand thereby cheating both Charlotte and my students of my full self.

Be fully teacher.

Be fully mommy.

Grade that paragraph with the run-on sentences.

"Stick the My Little Pony in the dollhouse over there, Mommy."

"Can you help me with advising? Should I change my grade to pass/fail or do you think my GPA will survive a C?"

Clean the spilled milk from the smiley face cup as the dogs try to lap it up by my feet.

Fix the exam that didn't auto-release & send out emergency announcement and emails to calm the panicked students.

Color on the back porch with surprise rainbow crayons.

"Thanks for an incredible semester and for teaching me about this great performance-based assessment, Dr. R!"

"I love you, Mommy! That tickles!!!" before dissolving into a puddle of giggles in my bear hug.

I call that a win and lay my head down to sleep to try to balance all over again tomorrow.

Gift of the mundane (and technology)!

A little bit ago, I posted how hard today was...I suspect it is because I was up late last night working on thank you cards and reading through the guest book as I searched for something that had Dad's handwriting in it.

Well, a blessing of sharing a bit of my grief and reflections today yielded an unexpected gift out of the mundane and ordinary!  My friend, Monika, sent me the following text:

So Adam & I hightailed it over to Google Maps and found these pictures on there!! 

See Dad at the top of the hill in the red shirt??

This is so Dad...just doing his thing tending to the yard.  I don't know how long ago this picture was taken...maybe my brothers would be able to figure it out based on the cars that are in the driveway.  LOL!

What are the odds?!  I love that this mundane ordinary moment of Dad serving his household/family by cutting the grass is frozen in time...Thank you, Monika (and technology), for this gift of seeing Dad in this most unexpected yet ordinary way.

Circle of Love

Today has been particularly hard.

Yet these surprise deliveries from family and Charlotte's school brought joy this afternoon.

 The flowers reminded me of our wedding and how involved Dad was in the planning of it (with Mom of course) the summer before it. The card from Charlotte's school that featured pictures of her so diligently working on her works remind me of how excited my parents were to pick her up on her first day of school this past fall!

This reminder from Dad in Charlotte's Baptism Book and our guest book help me to know he is still near.

Dad is reminding me that our circle of love will grow and change although no one could ever replace the folks who previously made up the circle. 

 He was the first one to sign out guest book (First There) as he and Mom were at our house before we even returned from our honeymoon! 🤣

Fueled by Faith Friday

All day I kept thinking it was the weekend before realizing at dinner it is Friday. So I am excited to use an oldie but goodie for today's blog posting title.

This is the first reading from Dad's funeral mass that was held yesterday morning. My older brother, Brian, read it.

We chose this scripture since it is the one from the day Dad passed. He literally drew his last breath as we read and prayed with these at his bedside.

Here is my takeaway from this reading. Never be afraid to stand up for what you believe. You may be shamed, mocked, ridiculed, but never doubt yourself. My Dad taught us what it meant to live with conviction and to keep your word.

The passage contains the phrase, He is the stone rejected by you, the builders, which has become the cornerstone, which makes me think of how often we get wrapped up in appearances or outward looks. We are quick to cast aside that which we think might not belong as we are busy bees building away and work, work, working along without really stopping to notice what we are truly doing along the way. Yet, it is what is on the inside that counts and can serve as the strongest or most important foundation.

Never underestimate a rejection or settle for being broken as being the end of the story. It is through being broken that sometimes the strongest we will ever be will emerge! It is through our weaknesses that God can shine through and show how strong we can be with Him.

Just thinking back on yesterday, alone, so many reminders of what could have been rejections that could have held Dad back and kept him from growing into the cornerstone of our family that he is popped up...one was that we got off the highway on Fisher Street. Fisher was Dad's unwanted birth name. The gospel selected by Monsignor for the funeral mass was about the death of Lazarus and when his sister said, "Lord, had you been here, my brother would not have died". Dad could have easily walked away from his faith and/or God over the years when hardship after hardship presented itself, such as losing his job when he had five people relying on him or when his health kept him away from a grandchild's special event. He could have said, "Lord...if you had been here, this would not have happened" yet he didn't. Another special reminder came in the form of a childhood best friend telling Mark that the local church would have a mass for Dad....on June 26th. She had no way of knowing that is Mom and Dad's wedding anniversary!


Yesterday was hard but we were fueled by faith as we accompanied Dad to his final resting spot.

Fly high

Tonight we saw Dad.

We were able to go see him at the funeral home, which was a surprise since we hadn't expected the invitation to do so with planning on having the viewing at church tomorrow morning.

As we drove over to the funeral home, I didn't know what to expect and kept thinking of the last funeral I attended in January. Sha looked so different from how she was while we lived in Austria and I wondered if Dad would look drastically different to me.

I got a glimpse of Dad's telltale wavy hair as soon as we walked in the door. I recognized him immediately as his face came into view...he almost had a half smile on his face, too!

I was struck by the sense of peace that filled the place and he even seemed to look younger in death. It made me think about his being restored in Heaven. My mom and brothers said he looked proud, distinguished, and satisfied.

Upon returning home tonight, our friend, Nick, flew a small plane over our house. We all went out on the back deck to watch him circle around the backyard. Patrick called it the final send off/fly over for Dad. It was quite fitting given all the many flying conversations my twin's best man had with Dad.

This makes me think of another aspect of my parents. So many of our friends, over the years, have gravitated toward them. I love that they know and love Dad as we do. So much so that when I sent a picture of Dad to one of my best friends from 8th grade on, she proclaimed how peaceful he looked, too! I hope to be that kind of parent for Charlotte - - to be looked at as an example or to be included the way my parents have been.

Here's to one more day physically with Dad as we prepare for the private viewing and mass before taking him to the military cemetery that is about 45 minutes from home.

First Dream

Last night was full of dreams.  It's been a while since we all got a peaceful night's worth of sleep.  Last night, I drifted off to sleep and was in and out of dreams the whole night.  I woke up three times throughout the night and early morning hours to find myself falling back into a different dream.

In the middle of one of them, I found myself perched between the driver's and front passenger seat as I searched for something or someone outside the front window.  This spot in the family van had been my older brother's when we would go on trips but all of us kids eventually found ourselves between our parents peering out the front window over the many trips and rides we took together.  So, when I found myself in this position, I was at once comforted by the familiarity of it even though I didn't know which vehicle I was in, didn't pay much attention to who was driving, and was unsure of whom or what I was looking for in the dream. 

Soon, we pulled up to an intersection, and there was my Dad driving his car on the opposite side of the intersection.  He didn't say a word, but simply waved, nodded, and pulled in front of us as whoever was driving followed him.  I slid back into my seat, relieved and at once relaxed.  I knew we were fine now that we were following Dad....then woke up almost with a smile on my face before the confusion set in and reality awakened me.

This scene in the dream has played out so many times.  Dad was always quick to direct or navigate us out of a wrong turn.  He was the fearless leader.  Quiet, confident, and always a step ahead of us, he forged ahead of our family for the last 44 years - - much like what he has done now.  He is the first in our immediate family to depart from us...and to do so during Easter Week just prior to Divine Mercy Sunday is really special.  There were times I did not deserve his mercy growing up yet he always freely gave it to us kids.  I am choosing to lean into the notion that Dad is leading the way and prepping our spots for when we join him at the end our own individual "trips" - - with each day we wake, we're one day closer to reuniting with him.  May eternal rest, grant until him, O Lord and let perpetual light shine upon him.  May he rest in peace.  May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.  Amen.