Happy Hearts Day

Valentines Day is over and done with but the sweet, simple heart garland that we made for a gathering of preschoolers at our home last week is still here. It is hanging in the space between our living room and kitchen and so forces us to walk beneath it every day. I love it. Every time I catch a glimpse of it, I smile. And smiles have been necessary as of late...

It has been a strange week for our family. John has had many overtime days, the littlest bean came down with roseola, Nina has been the sassiest ever (most likely due to lack of attention) and I am just plain sleep-deprived. More importantly though, and on a much sadder note...our neighbor across the street passed away. We did not know him very well; just a wave when we were outside or a chat about the weather, but his passing has left a mark. John was his primary nurse in the ER, even though he had passed before he got there.  They still tried. I got a call from John that evening sharing the news after a long day missing Bend, flustered with myself and children and school lotteries and life choices. It was a sad reminder that none of these worries mean a thing if you are not alive to worry about them. Bill died of a sudden, massive heart attack. He was 59. 

That night, our first snow fell in Kingman. Big chunky flakes coated the cactus in our yard and softened the sadness and unexpectedness of death so close to home. The snow helped me explain to my four year old that the man across the street had died...offering a gentle story about snowflakes and heaven and not waking up. It was the first time I had ever talked about death with Nina, and it was a very meaningful conversation, yet in that moment all I could think was...am I doing this right?

I am in month six of being a stay-at-home mom, and this thought crosses my mind and heart on a daily basis. Am I giving my children what they need? Am I adequately fulfilling this amazing task of mothering that I have been so carefully handed...or am I just so consistently screwing it up that my poor daughters will not know the difference? Worry and anxiety are parts of my nature that have seemed to intensify as the years go by. I constantly assess what I am doing, how I am doing it and what I can do differently. It is exhausting and not very healthy.  

As 2013 begins and the Year of the Snake is upon us, I want to change this. Bill's death, for whatever reason, was an aha moment, a face-slap moment: "I could be dead in an instant...gone forever." In the past ten days, I have been feverishly researching...reading bits of wisdom from other bloggers, checking out inspirational books from the library and starting to prepare for a fundamental shift in the way that I live and act.  I want to stop worrying and start really fully living. Living with purpose. Being awake. Showing gratitude for each day.  Nurturing relationships and taking time to love. I don't want to second-guess myself anymore.

So...with this in mind, Happy Hearts Day. May the love I have in my heart be strong enough and transformative enough to spark the internal change that I seek.  May Bill's heart rest in peace and may peace be with his family. May love and gratitude be yours EVERYDAY.

My Three Valentines

2012

As the first day of 2013 comes to a close...I am thoughtful of and thankful for all that came to pass in the last year. John was working sadly, but we texted at midnight...how romantic. So, the final eve in 2012, was spent with my children and our new Arizona friends, creating a new tradition.  I LOVE traditions. They ground me and more often than not this past year have served as a source of grace and salvation in a world of unknowns. Our new tradition (borrowed from said friends) is simple...breaking a pinata on New Year's Eve to "break in" the new year. It was very kid friendly, and thanks to the sheer silliness of repeated pummeling of a ridiculously taped cardboard creation, I laughed like I had not laughed in a very long time.

Having survived the night and waking to a New Year's day that provided nothing particularly special or meaningful...same old 6am wake up call from the babes, same old coffee mug, same clothes in the dryer that need to be folded, same dog that needed to be fed, etc. I decided that today I must repeat the tradition that I have made with myself each new year...to reflect.

My reflection usually consists of pawing through the last year's notes and cards, journal entries and photos...just for the joy of remembering. I snuggle up with a cup of coffee and pore over this much loved correspondence with a hope for the same in the following year. I also take down the calendars and replace them with fresh ones, yet not without a reverent combing through to remember the events, minor and major, that graced the square boxes of our lives over the course of 365 days.

I love calendars. It must be the teacher in me, but I love the planning and recording that they force us to do. I love that each year brings the gift of four new seasons and all of the outings and adventures that go along with them. I love birthdays and holidays...days that are ordinary to most, but special to my family and community.

One of my favorite children's book illustrators, Nikki McClure, also publishes a calendar each year. The luscious cut-paper prints entice me to no end, while the dates and moon phases are simple and non-intrusive. But, the best part about her calendars are the WORDS! Each month is given a special word all to itself. Last year's NMC calendar became like a premonitory thesaurus for my life. It was the most unreal thing! Each month as I turned over the new page, there stood the word that exactly defined that month of my life...my theme, my definition, right there as if she had planned it that way. And so to sum up 2012...here are Nikki Mc Clure's 12 Calendar WORDS that strangely and magically came to define  the last year of my life.

January - PERMIT
Permit yourself to not have resolutions this year...give in to sleep and self-care during the mid-months of pregnancy. Permit yourself to have the first year of postponing goals and expectations and worries of the new year...instead give in to sustenance and family and self-preservation in a world of caring for others.

February - SUMMON
Summon faith and the good wishes of the gods as you hope and pray that your job lasts past its temporary date of February 29th. Summon strength and determination to keep working through the school year in order to support your growing family and nearly graduated husband.

March - INHERIT
Inherit the job of your predecessor...do not let her down, as this was HER class, HER place. Inherit the pride that comes with working with children who have nothing. Inherit the courage that will be necessary to make it through these last months of pregnancy while not knowing where life will take you. Inherit patience and strength as you navigate the troubled waters of your marriage.

April - FREE
Free for one more month...free before the realities of graduation, birth and job are upon us. One magical month left of just the three of us: John, Becky and Nina before we welcome this new little soul. Free as we enjoy one more month of the college-lifestyle that has been our year in Flagstaff.

May - PERSIST
Persist, work hard, don't give up...graduate. Persist through to the end of the school year with my class before the baby comes. Persist even though you have no strength left to carry this enormous child! Persist right up until the very end of the month...May 31st. She is here and she is healthy and happy...thanks to our persistence!

June - GOOD LUCK
Good luck to us as we send out resumes and remember life with a newborn. Good luck to us as we pack up our belongings...AGAIN...and venture towards the unknown. No jobs, no home, two babies...GOOD LUCK!

July - DEPEND
Depend on the parents that love us and have welcomed us home. Depend on strong shoulders while we wait and hope. Depend on in-laws that buy diapers and make dinners because they have faith in us and know that things will be okay. Depend on each other in a time that we know not what will come but have put every best effort forth towards the promise of something brighter.

August - STEADY
Steady ourselves as we receive the good news and accept the job. Steady income, steady marriage. Steady ourselves and move forward into a new life that we are wary of but so so grateful for.

September - FOSTER
Foster new relationships in this new place, this foreign place of cactus and sand. Foster kindness and openness to those that think so very differently than we do. Foster friendships at new schools and new workplaces.

October - ENCHANT
Enchant ourselves with the whims and marvels of two small children. Enchanted by new friends that bring apples and pomegranates ( in the desert?), a bloom on the cactus in the front yard and birds that grace us with their beautiful morning fluttering just because we put the seed out.

November - PURPOSE
Purposefully travel to be with family in celebration of the passing of a life. Purpose and hard work as John dutifully serves the ER each night and supports our family. A sense of heightened purpose as we celebrate living in a free world with choices in who we elect to serve our nation.

December - WE ARE STARLIGHT
Remembering that life is such a beautiful, short gift that we are given. Celebrating milestones with family and mourning the inconceivable loss of 26 lives in CT.  Holding our children dear and taking part in traditions old and new...facing the worries of what will come to pass in the new year. We are but a small speck on this earth. Our time here is precious...we must do the best we can to cherish every moment. WE ARE STARLIGHT!

Happy New Year to all... may 2013 bring all of these things and more!

elsa gray

Today, the 16th of September, marks one year since the day that we found out our sweet Elsa was on the way. She is now nearly 16 weeks old! My oh my...the time does fly! A few years back, humbled and stymied and stuck in a rut in Bend, I never could have imagined the path that our little family has taken over the past year. My last entry spoke to "the sustenance of us"; it was all I could do to just to maintain last year as we tumbled through life in Flag. Yet now that the storm of that year has cleared...hear we are, and we are okay. Thanks in part to Miss Elsa Gray. So here is the story of her birth...mostly written for her mama to remember and also to honor this special little bean that chose us to be her family.

For Elsa (written 6/8/12) - The thing that I will always remember about waiting for you to arrive, is the flowers. They started to appear in early May with beautiful BIG blossoms on the fruit trees of Flagstaff. Then came the lilacs, as they always do in our life...purple, white and pink. Next to arrive were the irises - just outside our bedroom in this tiny purple house that we brought you home to. Lilacs and irises have followed us from home to home and they bloomed to welcome you! The last flower to bloom before you came into our world, was the rose - brilliant and bright, climbing up the stone wall of our house - life and beauty to warm and soften our dry, high desert existence. Just like you, sweet Elsa, have softened our lives as we enter one of the most stressful times that our family has had to endure...you are truly our shining, soft light at the end of a crazy tunnel!

As we waited for you, the days kept accumulating! Gigi arrived for Daddy's graduation on May 10th and I truly believed that you would arrive just a few days later. On the 17th, we hastily made a cast of my belly, as we did with Nina, ceremoniously expecting your arrival the next day on the 18th. Ha! You would have none of that. You were SO not ready to leave the womb and so we waited...and waited. Your Gigi was such a trooper. She stayed for three weeks before you decided to make an entrance! On Tuesday, May 29th we went to see the doctor...I was a week overdue and EVERYONE was getting nervous about your size! Yet you made no sign of wanting out. With fears of you having shoulder dystocia like your big sis we were guided against our better judgement into an induction. Blah! We went in on the morning of the 30th with tears in our eyes. I did not want to take any chance in harming you, but at the same time I was fundamentally against it...I will never forget that. Yet once we got there and things got started my fear and frustration turned to excitement knowing that you would be here soon.  We worked all day to help you come out and in the end it was to no avail! You were just not ready and we couldn't force you...even with drugs! So at 10:00 pm and 5cm we called it quits and went to bed...mommy got to have you in my belly for one more night. :) I meditated on you that night and rested and wished for you to arrive the next day...the last day in May.  This calmed me and we woke to a change in attitude, blue skies and an air of positivity with which to hopefully welcome you.  We started again and I focused all of my energy on you. I labored throughout the morning and afternoon with Daddy and Gigi by my side. At 3:30 my water was broken and after that things moved quickly. Everything was SO intense...a completely different experience than birthing your sis. You were headstrong my dear...literally! They called in the whole team to assist as we all thought you might be HUGE, but instead you were perfect. Two pushes and your 9 lb. 7 oz. self slid into the world. I held you to me and spoke your beautiful name - Elsa -for the first time! You were dark haired and looked a little bit like Nina, but different...your own little soul. Daddy stood to one side and Gigi to the other...and they each held you and loved you. After that long, long wait we were ALL so happy to meet you...our little May flower.

Sustinere

Strange as it may seem, and mostly due to my growing belly, I have been blogging quite a bit...in my mind...as I lay restless in bed at 3 or 4 in the morning. I always intend to post these thoughts, especially because they seem so very compelling at that hour of the morning, but alas the first two weeks of the year have gone by and I continue to just mind-blog in order to get back to sleep. :) The days as they always seem to ...ARE FLYING BY! I was thankful to say goodbye to 2011 and am genuinely excited and ready for all that is to come in this new year. January 3rd brought with it an ultrasound of the newest bean and the reality of our pending life change, as well as an impetus to change the title of this blog. I can no longer just "blog Nina" and it seems that this is really MY venting place, so it should be renamed appropriately! :) A friend of mine in Bend chose a word to start her year, and I can appreciate the meaning behind it.  I too feel that I must define this year with a name...as it seems to be full of promise and change. And so...a name has hatched out of pleasant memory and solid meaning ...sustinere. I love this word. It just rolls off of your tongue. It is both structural and soulful at the same time. In short definition it means to "hold up", "endure" or "sustain". As of late, this completely defines my presence on this earth, and I suppose that of most mothers/women everywhere. It is our daily joy/burden/love/ache to endure that which we are given and sustain ourselves and our families no matter where we are or what we face. This is not meant to be negative, rather life affirming and powerful, as there is a strength and a beauty associated with sustaining humanity.  Anyhow, I came across this word many years ago on a jaunt to the Methow Valley ( one of my secret favorite places). It was the name of their local magazine/journal and I picked it up on a free stand in a coffee shop. Inside the natural paper pages were simple drawings of homemade compost bins, watercolors of families in the community and colored pencil sketches of green-built structures in the North Cascades. It was this little slice of heaven in a community publication, and I have held onto it ever since. I always come across it when I am sorting through journals and scraps of saved papers and pictures from previous years...I do this every January...and this year I thought that I would shamefully steal the title for my own family and self.
So here we go...our little family of nearly four is starting out the year in much the same fashion that we started out last year. We have no idea where we will be in six months! :) John starts his third and final semester on Tuesday and my job will most likely end March 1st. We are hoping he can slide into a new grad position at St. Charles and return to Bend...but based on their current hiring this does not look promising. So...we are considering extending the adventure and looking at new places to live/explore while he "gains experience". We shall see... In any event it makes life anything but dull and we are committing ourselves to give in to the unknown and just enjoy our time and space here in Flag.  Today we are off to the Grand Canyon for Free National Parks Day...and a little road trip. Looking forward to a picnic by the rim, scaling the stairs at the Watchtower and a beautiful day hike in our 50 degree January weather. This is what will sustain us today...and build memories of our time here in Arizona.

It Is the Best of Times...It is the Worst of Times

 Hiking at the Pit

 Evening bike ride through campus with the SF peaks in the background

 Fall hike on Humphreys

 Butterfly in front of our fireplace (only heat source for our funky lil house)

Mama and Nina in search of WATER... a small pond on Schultz pass

It has been a little over four months since we landed here among this small slice of juniper, pine and aspen trees in Northern Arizona. So similar to Bend...yet so amazingly (and refreshingly) different. In June as I left our home of some ten years I was looking forward to a change...ready for adventure, and possibly ready to reinvent myself as well as my family.  I had hopes of embarking on some beautifully documented year-long project, but alas just staying afloat has been the project. :) We did embark on a nine month project I suppose as we are quickly headed into the world of parenting two little beings rather than one. So...the adventure is there, but not in the exotically exciting form that I had imagined. John, Nina and I live in a little stone house with purple exterior paint on the southside of this old, funky, trying to be hip little mountain train town. Our neighbors span the spectrum from the tamale lady who visits our screen door every now and then selling her yumminess to the drunk bum that sometimes shares our recycling to the car smasher to the neighborhood skunk to the beautiful gospel singing women that occupy the church across the street. We are blessed with a diversity of cultures that we didn't have in Bend and for that I am awoken and alive...
Each day we each go our respective ways...John to his demanding coursework at our large hospital/trauma center at the top of San Francisco street...he rides his bike most days unless its snowing. I to my little Head Start world where each child brings out a part in me that I never knew I possessed. And Nina...sweet Nina goes to her beloved co-op...at the local art magnet school. She comes home speaking of riparian zones and watercolor techniques! It is a strange transient place that we have plunked down into, as so many people and students come and go here...but we are trying to carve out a place for ourselves in the community. I always feared "being seen" in Bend, as each public event brought about meetings and greetings by the dozen...yet I miss it now. We went to an event downtown last week and didn't know a single soul! We reflect on Bend quite a bit these days...the best of it and the worst of it and wonder if we will indeed get back to it as soon as we had intended to???  If anything, four months in Flag has made us appreciate how well we have lived and how fortunate we have been for the past ten years.  It has also made us realize how many other wonderful places are out there and how easy it is to get stuck in a rut if life is easy...we needed this challenge in order to better appreciate each other, our family and our selves. We have six moths left until John graduates...exactly...it will be May 11. I do not know what those months will bring, but it is with hope and gratitude that I wish to seize them and learn from them, as I find out what this experience is truly meant to teach us. Oh and I desperately, desperately miss the Deschutes...I hope that my Bend friends are thankful EVERY day for our river and water!

The Memory Ward(en)

As we tumble our way slowly south, the weeks and days are fading into each other. I am careful to check my calendar to make sure that it is in fact Saturday, as I have fallen into a lazy mode waiting for my life in Arizona to unfold. We are not there yet, as we have graciously been offered room and board by my parents until a dog-friendly abode can be secured. Changes in plans always seem to occur at the worst possible time...and yet there is always a reason behind them. This one I will choose to be for the better, as I am relishing time spent among family and the support that they offer to the bean. And so I accept the feelings of not knowing, because I am okay with the making of memories. Each day that we spend in my parents' homes we are making memories. Whether they are as simple and powerful as the sensory memories that lake water and lavender will later evoke in my daughter or as healing as returning to Three Springs after the burglary...all will be important.  New memories of kayaks and carsickness will bring humor as we continue on, but the wounds of the screen that is still broken here in San Jose and the momentary fears as we set an alarm that we have never set in the 25 years we have occupied this space, will be etched on our hearts for awhile.  As strange as it may seem,  as I write this I am thankful that the things that were taken here were just things. The people who broke into this house did not take the smell of the honeysuckle near the garage, they did not take the photos of generations of family that line the staircase, nor did they erase the pencil heights lovingly recorded inside the pantry door. These are the "things" that are home, and they have not been stolen. For this I am eternally grateful. As I walk around this house I realize how many "things" that are valuable to us are not mere possessions...they are memory producers...and we have become the memory wardens, their protectors. We will hold them in our minds no matter what happens to this home, this stuff. They are permanent.

Lately, I also feel grateful and lucky for the ability to still make memories. The past four days have woven together some interesting life realizations between my own experiences and John's in Flag. We are living these completely separate lives, yet the crossing of events keeps us connected...as much as possible.  Wednesday was my grandmother's 85th birthday...she is slowly losing her ability to make memories as the dementia worsens and creeps in on all of us. We accept it, yet wonder how something so devastating can take over so fully. We have become the memory reminders. John too...as he attends his clinical in the memory ward at the assisted living facility has become a memory reminder and a caregiver to repetition.  Through it all we must protect and care for this great life and these moments that turn into our experiences and essentially our memories of this short short time that we have. I am so thankful for my family, my health and my ability to remember. No matter what the past may remind us of...it is what has shaped us thus far, and made us who we are. I am looking forward to arriving in Flag and to the making of new memories with my family.

It Takes A Village

They say that it takes a village to raise a child and I wholeheartedly agree.  It also appears that in our case, it takes a village to properly finish household projects. :) Last summer, over beer, John and I decided that it would be great to carve out a little space next to the sandbox for Nina to play and for us to sit and ponder our days away. John lovingly dug and dug...but alas fall came and the checkbook was bare. No wall or patio ...yet. This past weekend, spurred by our imminent move and fear of liability to renters, he and our awesome friend of a friend and professional, Brian, knocked out patio and wall in a matter of hours.  The finished product is a place that I would love to be able to love and soften all summer. My instant thoughts went to what little trees and plants and vines I could surround the stone with. Butterfly bush ad maples, daisies and black-eyed susans leaning over to catch the late sun as my daughter's sandy feet dangle. Mmmm... Alas, I will have to wait, as this space will not be ours again until next year. And so it sinks in that I will not be here to plant my garden, tend my chickens or prune the lilacs next year...and yet it is okay. Leaving is actually making me appreciate how simple and good our little life here has been. I am so thankful for this time and this space that we have made.  We are called to more important endeavors than building a fence or adopting worms from a neighbor, and I must honor that. Most importantly I must honor that I am needed elsewhere...to be a support to others rather than just a lazy schoolteacher looking forward to summer days.  I am needed as a daughter and a wife and a mother right now.  It is in that giving that I will grow while I am away, just as my garden will grow while I am away. Please keep my mom in your thoughts this week...