It was just as poetic and lovely in real life as it sounds. Family traveled from our far corners—Pittsburgh and Florida and California, my dear Frederick, and good ole’ Baltimore—and we gathered by that beautiful river and we remembered my sweet, funny, smart, and lovely grandmother Charlotte who died a year ago.
One of the benefits of a life well-lived and well-loved is that people will miss you when you are gone and want to remember you. And we really did. There were tears, of course, but also funny stories and lots of she-would-have-loved-thises and I-can’t-believe-she-is-gones. We also wanted to do something. Remembering is active after all.
So my aunt Holly brought a lantern (completely biodegradable in case you were worried) from one of her science units, we ignited the flame . . .
. . . and we launched that purple lantern into the darkening sky.
We watched in silence as the purple lantern faded from sight, each of us sharing one heart in that moment, remembering together.
Today, there are people gathering at other waters to remember another lost loved one. Our friend Courtney from Our Small Moments is saying goodbye to her way too young husband Scott. Her two small children and all the friends and family who loved him over the course of his too short life will honor his memory with a celebration. There will be funny stories and tears and he-was-too-damn-youngs and cancer-can-suck-its. There will be that visceral need to just remember him.
Our blogging friends have all been sucker-punched by the sad story of Scott’s diagnosis of angiosarcoma of the pleura in December to his death this week even while we have been astounded by our friend Courtney’s limitless supply of love, honesty, faith in God, and hope through his illness. We want to remember Scott and help our friend. We want to remember the family that they were by helping the family they are now. We want to remember together.
In that vein, we have joined forces to create a Give Forward campaign that will help Courtney with all of the medical bills they have accrued over the year. Consider giving with us in remembrance of someone you love. Remembering is an act, after all.
To read more about this family’s honest and lovely “small moments”, visit Courtney’s blog.
Also, if you are so inclined, our blogging friends have written some beautiful posts about this family too.
Two years ago today, we had a perfect night. Crisp, clear, and beautiful, you could practically feel the quick-silver energy of spring crackling in the air. We were in that limbo of the changing seasons with one foot in fur-lined boots and the other in flip-flops, but we were definitely on the cusp of change. Hope and promise and the hint of so many lovely days to come were everywhere that night. So this country girl left the windows wide open and went to sleep.
Around midnight, I awoke to the sound of voices outside. Certain that it was neighborhood teens drawn outside by the beautiful weather, I was irritated. I needed to get back to sleep. I am not actually a girl any more, and we more seasoned gals need our beauty sleep.
When I went to the window to call out to them, time stopped. The house two doors down was engulfed in flames. A young family of seven was sobbing on the front lawn. The images kept coming then, stacked one upon another, each one more heartbreaking than the one that came before. Neighbors trying to keep the flames at bay with garden hoses. A little boy patting his Mama’s arm. Fire truck after fire truck after fire truck lined up through the neighborhood—a brotherhood of firemen trying to save the home of one of their own. A baby girl wrapped in a neighbor’s sweatshirt. Little bare feet everywhere in the too cool air. Two more pictures stood out. A house there. Then not.
The family had just moved in three weeks prior, but we were already connected. Maybe it was because this young family was our mirror in many ways with 4 boys and a girl. Maybe it was because the boys had become such fast friends. Our kids were already playing together every day, wearing out our side yard with spirited games of soccer. Maybe it was because I was already friends with the husband’s sister and knew the extended family a little. Time doesn’t define all relationships.
My family tried to help in any way we could. But in addition to the burnt scar in the ground just two houses away that we saw EVERY. SINGLE. DAY., we now had a quiet empty soccer field beside the house. Whoever said silence is golden hasn’t walked around a neighborhood after a tragedy.
A little while after the fire, Eddie, then 3, and I visited the family to see how they were doing. You never REALLY know what to expect from preschoolers, but Eddie walked right up to their 3 year old Bezzy like they hadn’t missed a beat.
“Your house burned down. That’s sad.” I froze, but I didn’t need to worry. Their three year old son Bezzy started jabbering away about everything that was going on. He told Eddie every last toy that he lost, every lovey that was gone forever, and, saddest of all, that their dear dog had died in the fire too. These were preschoolers, and they were talking like two wizened old souls.
Bezzy’s mom Sarah told me that the fire had unmoored Bezzy, shattering his notion of home and safety. Bezzy had pretty much stopped talking after that night and had retreated into his own little world of play. Eddie was reaching across a divide with his friendship to pull Bezzy to the other side. As we were watching these two little guys chatter on, we sensed the change, saw with our own eyes how the simple gifts of acknowledgment and a listening heart could bring someone through limbo to the cusp of change. Then this. . .
“Well, let’s eat a cracker, and then play with some trucks.”
Yes, let’s.
Two years on, and the family is back in our neighborhood in a beautiful new home, and the neighborhood play has resumed.
Sarah was asked to give a talk at her local church about what people can do when tragedy strikes, and she told the boys’ story. It’s especially beautiful when coupled with one of Sarah’s favorite sayings that she often shared on their year-long journey from the fire back into their home: God’s favorite way of showing up is through His people.
Indeed.
Today I picked up a pile of dirty sweatshirts out beside our makeshift side yard soccer field. Warmer weather, longer days, and the promise of long afternoons filled with not-so-much-to-do are right around the corner. Knee-deep in extra laundry and waging a daily battle against the dirt mound threatening to engulf us, I could complain, but I don’t. This time of year is special. Full of promise. Laden with hope. I want to remember that today.
In a word, the last year has been educational. Blogging teaches you things. Wanna see us resize some photos? Juggle some social media with ease? But while tackling some of the technological challenges of blogging was a little sour at times, blogging has been mostly sweet, and the relationships we have made while blogging have been the very best part. So what’s the cherry on top of this blogging plate of delish? We have gotten to know each other better too. In the beginning, we described each other like this, and we wouldn’t change a word of what we said back then. But blogging has given us a wider window into each other’s psyches — think the viewing window on a autopsy — that we wouldn’t have had otherwise and for that we are truly grateful. So without further ado, we give you. . .
Ten Things We Learned About Each Other This Year
Erin Shares About Ellen:
1. Ellen travels with a capital “T”. I knew Ellen and Frank went places, but we all go places. They GO places. In the past few years, they have visited Costa Rica, Mexico, San Francisco, Chicago, New York City, Washington, DC, taken a cruise to the Bahamas, and done Disney. This is just hitting the highlights. They also go to the beach, and we camp together TWICE every summer. But it’s not just that they go fabulous places, they do fabulous things once they’re there. They climb stuff and repel off things and swim with sea creatures and find great hideaway restaurants and visit don’t-miss museums. Their photo albums look like travel brochures. In one of our conversations, Ellen said that she would rather spend money on experiences than things. She’s not just talk, this one.
2. Ellen still has mad medicine skills.If you didn’t know yet that Ellen is a doctor, you should probably know that. While she chose to gracefully exit the medical profession stage right to raise her kids full-time, she never really put away those skills. She is our resident medical go-to girl for all things that might bleed, blister, or keep you up at night with worry. But I learned this year that she can still walk the walk. I had two pretty big medical things come up in my family this year, and Ellen talked me through both of them with calm, clarity, and confidence. The way she explains technical medical things to us lay folk reminds me that she would be awesome in a practice or on TV as one of those medical correspondents. Move over, Dr. Nancy Snyderman, Ellen still has game.
3. Ellen makes a cake so good that I actually tried and LOVE Nutella.The very notion of Nutella used to make me gag, but this cake made me a convert. If you make it, it will make you the Belle of the Ball, so if you are looking for a fairy godmother, Ellen just might be your girl. Oh, and the cakes she makes her kids—fuggedaboutit. Forget fairy godmother. You’ll want to be adopted, so you can call her mom and eat these ridiculous confections. Really.
4.Ellen is willing to jump off that cliff–metaphorically and literally. Remember what I said about her awesome travel escapades? Ellen is always ready for fun. And challenges. I have yet to find anything that scares her or makes her say, “whoa, that ain’t gonna happen”. Ellen is the girl that gets things done. Period. Again, if she can think it up, it’s already halfway done.
5. Ellen is tech-y in a good way.It took me a while to find my footing in the more technical aspects of blogging, but Ellen took to it like a duck to water. She is always two steps ahead of me on that front which I appreciate, because she is an extremely generous friend when it comes to knowledge and sharing it. I have learned a ton, mostly from her showing me the way.
Ellen Shares About Erin:
1.Erin is a whiskey drinking girl. Erin will partake of a mellow merlot or a cold brew, but her first choice is a whiskey sour slushie. It’s her fun-loving Irish roots shining through, but it always surprises me and makes me smile. She is such a gentle soul and whiskey just seems like a bar brawl fire-starter.
2. Erin is the ring leader, CEO, and Grandmaster Flash of fun. When we go on our Big Love trips with sixteen children ranging in age from 5 to 18, Erin orchestrates getting us fed, corralling us out the door, and divving us up into canoes. But you know her super duper secret that you should tattoo on the bottom of your foot for future reference? She is FLEXIBLE. She is not a slave to her schedules. The masses revolt because they don’t want to get out the door by 8 am? No problem. We’re having a blast at the playground and don’t want to start on the hike? No problem. She should have the theme song, “Enjoy the fun you’re with” playing around her at all times.
3. Erin is your role model for how NOT to hold a grudge. Erin is amazing. You can have a calm discussion with her, come to an agreement, and then she – wait for it – moves on. It is like watching a miracle unfold before your eyes. It is truly in the category of unicorns and leprechauns. There is a dark side though, but it is only for her. She assumes other people are also this generous and she has gotten burned. I’ve told her more than once that perhaps she didn’t get kicked enough as a kid. Hmmm, reading this over, I may need to work on my graciousness. I definitely have my cynicism down pat.
4. Erin loves fire. She really loves it. I’m a girl who has used her fireplace twice in 14 years. Her family’s most cherished times are spent around their fire pit. She is a girl who uses fire as an entertaining staple. Don’t forget she brought us the “Bonfire to Go“.
5. Erin is a master of organization, diplomacy, and calm . . . except when she is not. For the love of the Brady Bunch, she keeps her five kids’ lives trucking along in the most fantastically enriched, grounded, and fun manner possible. And she does it without an Alice — but on second thought she does it without the hindrance of a Cindy, so really it’s a wash. But she is only human as demonstrated by her sock sack of shame.
What’s the big deal you say? Just you wait.
She also takes a stand on the most unlikely issues. Discussing religion and politics? The United Nations should attend her charm school. Discussing Andy Griffith? Insert the sound of an explosion in your head. In the land of calm, she is the cucumber when kids are breaking arms or scrabbling with each other like feral cats. Regarding certain instances with crock pots and lining up shoes for a photo? I started to have secret fantasies of whipping out a tranquilizer gun. But those are stories for another day . . .
In the spirit of Thanskgiving, we owe some big thanks to Kerstin Auer at AuerLife for this week’s Listicles topic. We love an opportunity to write about each other and not just our families and friends. You’re all welcome to love her now. Kerstin has a great blog and her latest post about her life in numbers is worth reading all 41 entries. Really. Check her out.
As always, we owe a debt of gratitude to Stasha whose Monday Listicles are our favorite place to link up every Monday.
“We’d like you to explore friendship. You can talk about a current friendship or one from your past, a friend you met over kindergarten snacks or happy hour at your first job. Examine your emotional interest in the friendship and the role it plays, or played, in your life.
The word limit for this prompt is 400 words. While that may not seem like many words to devote to a friend you’ve known for thirty years, try to provide us with a snapshot that encompasses your feelings about the friendship.”
Two-For-One
We are including two prompt responses under one post because, well, there are two of us. We blog with a shared voice and focus as Sisterhood of the Sensible Moms. It can be challenging, but what might be even more challenging, is explaining to people how we do it without killing each other. We decided to take this prompt as a blind challenge to explore this question. Ellen is going to write about Erin and vice versa. Erin’s husband is going to load both essays and then we are going to see where the chips fall. Does anyone have Judge Judy’s phone number?
Erin: One Analogy Is Not Enough
Erin is the self-described Labrador Retriever of Women. With her being the wordsmith that she is, I’m going to take the easy road and continue with this analogy. She has all the very best qualities of a Lab – loyal, fun, outgoing, intelligent, and adorable – without the shedding, slobber, and muddy paws. Well, occasionally she has muddy paws, but she does always clean up after herself.
But a woman this fabulous cannot be pegged by just one analogy. She is also THE safe harbor of friendship. She draws friends of all personalities and shelters them with her compassionate and accepting nature. I am prone to bitterness, because I tend to tamp down my feelings so as not to offend anyone. This is never an issue with Erin, because while she will hold you accountable, she will never turn you away for sharing who you are. She just has this supernatural ability to reflect and magnify all that is good in you.
She is also like a poorly maintained roller coaster: if you are not buckled in and paying attention, she will have you off on a tangent in the blink of an eye. While this can make planning a trip with her challenging, it is in these tangents where the heartstrings of friendship are woven tighter.
If I just made you throw up a little in your mouth with the word “heartstrings,” let me redeem myself. She can also get on your nerves like a stonewalling teenager. If she goes “radio-silent” on me one more time, immediately after blog-posting, texting, emailing, Facebooking, or tweeting, I’m going to pee in her Pollyanna Kool-Aid. Love you.
XOXOX – Ellen
Ellen
“You can write me, but you will never capture me.” Thus speaketh Ellen, and like she has so many other times, reveals the absolute truth of the matter. Ellen defies the pigeonholing that sums most people up. She is just so Ellen.
A force of nature, she is so the chick you want in your get-away car. Ellen is a do-it-yourselfer extraordinaire harboring Macgyver-esque fantasies. She can also help you find what ails you, bake a cake that makes you want to live in her kitchen, and guide some pretty great kids through life. She manages all this with a flair and fashion sense that I admire.
Over the years, Ellen has blown me away with the many shades and depths of her character, but the thing that binds us, the thing that makes US work is our ability to make each other laugh. Even if nobody else agrees, we think we are funny as hell.
I am grateful to Ellen on many levels, but I owe her truly for being the one who kicked me out of my Erinness and made me do what I have always wanted to do—write. She wrote me an email once in response to a piece I had written that said “I can go in and do some editing like an overachieving 4th grade mom who wants her kid to get the A.” She can, and she has, more times than I can count. She pushes, I pull. She demands, I rise to the challenge. She laughs, I dissolve in giggles. She is the right partner for me in this blog, because she sees me and what we are trying to do so clearly.
“You can thank me later for your first sentence.” Yes, Ellen, and then some.
