Rest in peace good and faithful servant.

Yesterday the world lost one of it's brightest lights. Not completely unexpected. When someone is 94 and has lived a full life, there is also a sense of celebration and thankfulness. Still, the news that Weston Noble passed away fills so many of us with sorrow.
Weston Noble. Director, mentor, teacher, guide, friend, guru, angel. The words to describe this great man go on and on. I've been reading the FB posts of so many friends and classmates who have been touched by his gentle soul. They have refreshed me. They have made me smile, laugh and cry. Sometimes all at the same time. The stories encompass musical moments, quiet conversations, teaching moments, and jokes. Mr. Noble was one of those special people who had the ability to make each of us feel as if we were the most important and loved person at that moment. Watching him conduct, was sometimes like looking at the face of God. You could not look away!
Many will talk of his skill as a conductor and teacher. The number of chorale conductors and music teachers, both professional and volunteer, that he has inspired and nurtured is truly mind boggling.
His faith in and love for God will also be mentioned. He spoke honestly and openly about his faith and his doubts - modeling for many of us how to do the same in an authentic way.
Many stories have recounted an individuals first interaction with Mr. Noble. A phone call as a prospective student. A personal postcard in the mail from THE Weston Noble. Singing for him as a H.S. student in a festival. The list goes on and on. No matter who you were he made you feel so special! As someone who was often mistaken for my sisters, the fact that he knew ME and cherished ME as one of his own was such powerful reinforcement of my worth as an individual.
I don't remember the first time I met him. He has always been in my life. My parents spoke of him often and we were introduced to the world of music at Luther College early on. I was not going to go to Luther. I wanted to strike out on my own rather than following in my sister's footsteps. In the end I only applied to Luther. I'm certain that my postcard from Weston and the desire to sing with him in Nordic outweighed any wish I had to find my own way.
Singing in Nordic Choir was like no other experience I had ever had or ever will have since. Every afternoon, 5 days a week, for 3 years, I would go with my peers to sing. But it wasn't just singing! Those hours were filled with prayer and meditation, laughter and joy. While we were perfecting notes, rhythms and dynamics, we were praising God and sending love into the world. I sporadically attending church through college, mostly because every afternoon I felt closer to God than I ever had. I was in "church" everyday!
We were introduced to Mountain Top experiences - those musical moments when you felt as if you were going to burst! The concerts (and even rehearsals) where so many of us cried as we sang were many. The emotion that Weston drew from us was as powerful as the music.
For many years after I graduated I was afraid to sing in another chorale - I was certain it would never be the same and it was as if those days were over. The days of Nordic were over, but the desire to sing again and create musical magic with others was strong. While the experiences of Nordic were so special and unique, singing again with others continues to bring me such joy! When we sing a piece I learned in my college years, the memories are sweet and every note is locked away in my memory ready to be shared again.
So much of what I learned about music, I learned from Weston, but more than that, I learned about love, faith, humility and kindness. I learned about quietly caring for the earth and it's people. This giant in the chorale world was also a humble servant. From picking up trash around campus, to quietly listening to and advising student after student about music, life, love, God, and on and on. The greatest lesson I learned from this man was two-fold - I was both the most important AND the least important person in the world. I was loved and cherished as an individual among a crowd of individuals who were equally loved and cherished - ALL of them regardless of color, gender, orientation, religion.
Thank you dear man and may your journey continue to be filled with joy as you lead the heavenly choirs of angels. May we do our best to take the lessons we've learned from you to bring joy, love, kindness, humility and music to the world.

Saying goodbye

This morning I said goodbye to my husband and child as they headed out the door. To a funeral. For a 17 year old student and friend.  I'm not going with them for many reasons. Lots of things to do today. I need to pick up our son later. I didn't know the student myself. I can't bear the idea of witnessing the pain of her family.

For a long time I have felt that loss is so very personal. If I don't know the person who is lost or at least know their family I feel like witnessing their pain would be an intrusion on the most personal, painful experience ever.
I feel like I should be with my people to hold their hands, but I couldn't bear it.

We say goodbye all the time. Every day we say goodbye to our partners, our children, our friends, our colleagues, our clients and on and on. We say goodbye with the expectation that we will see that person again. Later that day, week, month, year, etc... We forget that sometimes goodbye is forever.

Sometimes we know when a goodbye might be the last one. Each time we have the opportunity to see my husband's Grandmother we know it might be the last time. She is 99 and while there is no reason to believe she will pass anytime soon, she's 99!

We know that after losing my Father-in-law unexpectedly that our parents are mortal and while we are lucky to still have 5 of 6 parents healthy and in our lives, we could lose any one of them at anytime. When we say goodbye we know it could be the last one.

When you say goodbye to your child as they head out the door to school most of us don't allow the idea that we won't see them again to cross our minds. For that to happen, it would have to involved a horrible accident or disaster. Opening that thought process is just a recipe for over-protection and paranoia.

Goodbye is something we just toss out to them, maybe occasionally adding an "l love you!". We are confident that they will get off the bus after school and we will see them again.

As children get older, start driving, heading off to college or living away from home, goodbye is a little more intense, a little more poignant. We know that we can't protect them from the world, but we trust that we've done a good job and they will make good decisions and use common sense. We are aware though that horrible things happen. We infuse those goodbyes with a little extra power and love and a prayer for their safe return.

Parents of children who are black, muslim, gay, even female, have the significantly higher fear that their child will be targeted, harassed, assaulted, killed.  As the mother of white children, one boy and two girls, I have had many fears for my son. I have never had to fear that he would be pulled over by police because of the color of his skin. I cannot even begin to fathom what that fear might look like or feel. I have felt the pain of listening to him recount stories of being bullied in school and only wish I had known, but I never really feared I wouldn't see him again.

As the mother of daughters I have feared for their safety. I have feared for their hearts as I've seen them deal with "mean girls," cliques, bullies etc. I have also intentionally raised them to advocate for themselves and others and they, along with their brother, are growing into young people who have a strong sense of right and wrong. A strong sense of social justice. A powerful need to stand up for those who are being oppressed. I still fear for my daughter's physical safety in the way I fear for my own safety as a woman, and have taught them to be watchful and protective of themselves and their friends. I also fear for the safety of their rights as women to have agency over their own bodies. To make decisions about reproduction without the interference of the far right.

When I say goodbye to them, all sorts of horrible scenarios could run through my mind, but I can't let them. I have to trust that the worlds they live in are by and large good ones. They are smart, caring, powerful people who will do their best to care for themselves and others. I have to trust that I will see them again.

Today a community of people will say goodbye to a lovely young woman. 17. Struck down swiftly and unexpectedly by a horrible illness. This goodbye is so final. So wrong. Her father has already had so many losses - a wife and unborn child, another son, and now a daughter. Too much loss for one person to bear, yet he does.

We can never take for granted the goodbyes in our life. Each one could be the last and what that means is each one should be said with love and an understanding that life is fragile. This last Thanksgiving my in-laws left early Sunday morning from their hotel having said goodbye the night before. As they got on the road, my Father-in-law asked if they needed to stop by the house to say goodbye so that our daughter wouldn't be upset. She understands how important those goodbyes are. At 17 she has said a final goodbye to more loved ones than I had at age 30.

Whether he would admit it or not, Grandfather's acknowledgement of the importance of her goodbye was an understanding that he too knows that each goodbye is sacred and not to be dismissed.

An empty nest... for now

This morning marks our first real glimpse at what an empty nest will be like someday.  Yesterday we dropped off Helen for 6 weeks as a CIT at Camp Calumet. We will see her for a few days in the middle at a family reunion, but for all practical purposes our nest is empty.  There are 3 bedrooms upstairs with no one sleeping in them.  Laundry will decrease, clutter will decrease, trips to Target will decrease. Quiet will increase, time will increase, projects will increase. Excuses to not get things done will decrease. Arms and legs twirling through the house will decrease.

MIXED EMOTIONS!

A week or so ago, Helen and I spent an afternoon bickering with each other and then went to see "Inside Out", the latest Pixar film.  Perfect movie for a 16 year old and her Mama to see when they've been fighting.  This latest milestone in her life (and ours) is full of mixed emotions ~
Joy! 
Spending a summer at Camp Calumet is something I wish everyone could do!  It is truly one of the most amazing places on the planet - For the past 15 years my family has been a part of this beautiful, loving community and I will forever be grateful that my children have had the benefit of being exposed to a place where love and acceptance is truly practiced 24/7.  It is not a perfect place, but in my experience it is as close as one can come to it.
Sadness... 
My youngest child's journey into the world is ramping up.  For both Andy and Katy, it seemed that beginning with their "trainee" summer, everything just moved faster and faster.  While I didn't want to hold them back I did sometimes want to "freeze" things for just a moment.  Like her brother and sister, Helen is more than capable of holding her own. Like them, she often seems to function better (or in a more adult like manner) when she is away from us. This is how it should be. I know this. I studied it in grad school. I'm still feeling a little sad that another chapter is beginning to wrap up.
Fear.
This has not been an easy year for my youngest.  She has struggled with anxiety that has manifested itself in all kinds of physical discomforts - headaches, nausea, the works. Changes in diet, vitamins, sleep habits etc. have all helped, and she is doing better overall, but knowing that I am 4 hours away makes me a little fearful.  I fear that she will give up on herself.  I fear that she won't trust those around her to help her. I fear that she'll be just fine and not need me (that's a hard one to admit!).

MIXED EMOTIONS!

I'm excited to have time to really dig into some of my own work without interruptions! I am excited to have time to enjoy my partner in crime and very best friend/husband/love of my life.  I'm aware that 6 weeks is really pretty short in the grand scheme of things, and it's not really 6 weeks. 3 of those weeks I'll be working hard, the next week I'll be singing with my Dad and my sisters at our own camp followed by a family reunion. 1 more week to get my act together then I will join my girls at Calumet on staff for 2 weeks.
It is still more time than we've ever had where we are only responsible for ourselves. I don't want to waste it!  Time to make a list and enjoy the "rehearsal" as the final production is only a few years away...

feeling the world's sadness...

The whirlwind that is Spring with a H.S. Senior has finally wound down.  I brought Kate to Camp Calumet to work for the summer last Thursday and the house is settling into a new routine.  My niece Julia is here through the end of July and we've named her our transitional object.  She has a lovely presence about her and makes it very hard to be mopey!
There have been plenty of reasons to be blue lately... All the goodbyes over the last 2 weeks, coupled with the tragic death of a local Ellington boy, is enough to make anyone cry.  On top of that my daughter and niece and I went to see "The Fault in our Stars".  WEEPFEST.  I got a little teary but did not cry.  I expected to weep, but I didn't.

So why have I been so dry-eyed?  The older I get and the more sadness I see, the less I cry.  Especially about other people's grief.  I got teary at graduation and when dropping Katy off at Camp. I will miss her terribly and am incredibly proud of her at the same time.  Both things that make me cry.
A graduate of our H.S. in the class of 2013 was killed last week in a tragic ATV accident.  I didn't know him, but from friends and social media, I know I would have liked him.  He was an athlete, student, all around good kid. Well loved by many.  But I didn't know him.  His Mom was one of my daughter's favorite middle school teachers, but I just know her from a local committee we are on.  My heart aches for her, her husband and their other three children.  But their grief is not mine.  I felt like I should go to the local vigil, wake or funeral, but could not bring myself to go.  I prayed for them privately and offered my support to a friend who knew the boy, but I could not grieve.  His death is tragic, but their grief is not mine.
Watching the movie, I felt so sad for the characters.  It is a tragic story.  Kids, cancer, young love.... who wouldn't weep?????  me.
With the explosion of social media, the private grief of so many has become public.  We collectively mourn every time there is a shooting or when a "famous" somebody passes away.  I remember when Princess Diana was killed and the overwhelming outpouring of grief from the world seemed both touching and exploitive at the same time.
Since then, it seems that the thing to do is to take on the grief out in the world and own it.  We take it over and weep for people we have never known.  As I re-read this I feel a little cold and hard-hearted, but I don't intend it that way.  How we all deal with grief and tragedy is by nature personal.  This is not intended as a judgment on those who would outwardly grieve with and for others.  I just find myself stepping further and further away.
My first career a million years ago was as a therapist.  Therapists are trained to listen and guide.  We we're taught to maintain a level of distance because it wasn't our job to take on our clients "stuff".  I was a sponge!  I would soak it up and then come home and squeeze it out all over my sweet young family.  I couldn't do it.  I couldn't keep myself from taking on other peoples pain.  A few years ago, seeing "The fault in our Stars" would have dissolved me into a puddle.  What has happened to my heart??
Perhaps as I get older and see and hear about more and more tragedy and grief in the world, I have to protect my heart so I don't get consumed by the sadness.  Maybe my role is once again to listen and support and pray.  To be with others when they need me.  To be an observer rather than participant.

maybe that's enough.

tonight's the night...

So many BIG days over the last few weeks-  18th birthday, skydiving, concerts, recitals, 21st birthday.
Tonight child number 2 graduates from High School.  Child number 1 turned 21 yesterday.  Child number 3 is beginning to realize that life is changing quickly and will never be the same.  The "nest" is quickly gaining more room, but will be quieter and maybe a little lonely next year.
We've gained a transitional "niece" for the summer as Julia arrives to work with me and be a substitute big sister, but she will head home the end of July and it will be quiet.
We will put off the quiet a little longer by spending a few weeks in our favorite place - Camp Calumet.
The quiet will arrive though.  We might enjoy it for a while and we will adjust to it for sure.  She is right though.  Life is changing rapidly and will never be the same.
At some point she will realize that change isn't bad.  Really, life is just beginning!

As much as I'm feeling melancholy this week about my children growing up and moving on, I'm so excited for them!  They are becoming really interesting, awesome people and as the parent/child hierarchy shifts to incorporate more elements of friendship, I'm looking forward to following their adventures and maybe sharing a few.

Once in a while I think about what I really want them to know... here's what I have so far:

1) your dad and I love you more than we ever thought was possible

2) no matter how far you fly you can always come home

3) we will not always agree with you, but we will always support your final decisions

4) life is hard. surround yourself with people you love and who love you - it makes it easier

5) know how to say "I'm sorry" and "Thank you" and say them whenever it's appropriate

6) find work that energizes you and feeds your soul

7) live within your means - debt sucks

8) sing, dance, play, exercise and believe in something greater than yourself

9) be careful who you share your innermost thoughts and dreams with, but once you commit to a relationship, jump in with both feet

10) be happy

Two months to go...

This past week my husband and I had a rare 3 days home alone.  The girls were both away on a three day trip with their school drama club and we had a chance to imagine life with an empty nest.  It is not often that they are both gone at the same time for several days.  At first we relished the quiet and the calm.  We joked about our "glimpse into the future."  We are best friends and know that life together once our children have launched will be wonderful.  We will miss them, but we are looking forward to what our next chapter will bring.
By the third day I was reminded that I'm not ready for this chapter to be over yet though!  I missed their crazy energy and their endless chatter.  I missed their smiles, hugs and kisses.  I missed their presence.

I haven't been inclined to write much lately ~ life has been busy with kids, work, Jeff's knee replacement the end of March, etc...  I've had endless excuses not to sit down and write.  I'm pretty sure the only reason I haven't actually managed to write is that this is when I pause and really think about how quickly life is moving.  The next chapter is coming and I need to make sure that I'm not skimming the pages of the current one.  It's too easy to just glance a page and turn it.  I want to re-read some over and over again, but don't always take the time to do it.

Two months...

My middle child graduates from high school in less that 2 months.  The next 2 months are full of adventures: college registration, prom, concerts, banquets, awards ceremonies etc...  They will go so fast and I don't want to miss a minute.

Two months from tomorrow I will bring her to New Hampshire to our beloved Camp Calumet where she will spend the summer working as a Camp Counselor.  There is no place she would rather be... except maybe the next chapter of her story ~ Luther College.
After 2 months in New Hampshire we will bring her across 1/2 the country to our beloved Decorah, IA and leave her at one of the best places in the world.  We will leave her there and return home.  Life will never be the same.  She takes over her story and we will do our best to read along.  We can't read ahead because those chapters haven't been written yet.  There will be drama and grief, joy and pain, love and adventure.  That's the kind of girl she is.  I will be as close as a text message or a phone call, but will be too far to hold her hand.  I will have to be satisfied that I will hold her heart as I have for the past 18 years.

2 months is a blink of an eye.  So is 18 years.

observations

The past week has been a busy and tough one.  Hot and sticky with marginal air-conditioning.  A whole Spring worth of yard work to do before hosting 75+ on Saturday.  Re-entering life after vacation.  Trying not to think about finally saying goodbye to a friend.  Worrying about my children and their ability to say goodbye as well.

Our friend Ellen passed away February 26th after a frighteningly short fight with Pancreatic Cancer.  She was our friend and surrogate aunt.  Like other "family" members, we sometimes took her for granted.  When life is busy you forget to pay attention to the here and now and get wrapped up in the bits and pieces.

While her funeral was in her home state of Ohio shortly after her death, we needed to celebrate her life here in CT and so with her family's help, we held a Celebration of Life service at First Lutheran in Ellington and then had the first "Ellen Kates Memorial Kegger", so named by her nieces nephews.

5 months was a long time to avoid the reality that she was gone.  She traveled a lot and life floated along, so we could go chunks of time without contact.  Points when we painfully remembered she was gone:  Spring Concerts, Plays, and Dance Recitals.  With no extended family close by, Ellen never failed to come if she was in town.  Even when I would say "you really don't need to sit through a 2+ hour dance recital for 3 short dances" she would joyfully come!  We missed her this year and I'm sure we will miss her again.

Preparing for the party gave us an opportunity to "Do".  We kept busy in the oppressive heat, doing jobs that should have been done months ago.  Weeding, mulching, etc...  I learned what a tremendously hard worker my son can be.  While being home wasn't his plan this summer, having him home as we prepared for the weekend was a gift.  The day of the party, he stepped up as a true partner in hosting our guests.  I am so proud of the man he is becoming.

My daughter's were poised and articulate at the service.  They got up and spoke about their "Auntie Ellen" while I was unable to open my mouth.  They are becoming lovely, kind young women who can talk with almost anyone of any age.

My children helped me find my way through this goodbye and I suspect they will be there again as goodbyes in life are inevitable.  I'm so glad I have them.

practicing...

I've been avoiding my blog for a few weeks.  I wasn't sure why before, but I think I know now.  Here are the "top of my head" excuses:  I've been busy, I haven't really had anything on my mind, I've had other priorities, blah, blah, blah...
Here's the real reason:  I've been afraid to dive into my thoughts and feelings about the last month.

So many changes and glimpses of life to come.  Katy has been gone for almost 2 weeks and while I noticed she was gone, I didn't really miss her, until yesterday when I sent her and her brother good wishes for their first day with campers.
Until that point, it seemed like she was just away for a little bit and she'd be back soon.  With campers arriving, her work begins and it's no longer a little trip away from home; she is gone for the summer, doing important, powerful work!
With that realization, I got so weepy!!  Not because I miss her and her brother though.  I do miss them, but over the years they have steadily spent more time away from home and that is how it should be.  It's prepping them to fly from the nest.  I got weepy because I was overwhelmed with feelings of love and pride.

When my children are at home, they are much like everyone else's teenagers, albeit a little louder and more animated than some:-)  They make us crazy by talking back, not doing chores, leaving messes, needing rides, cars, money etc...  They are also interesting, funny, smart people who I enjoy spending time with.  BUT, they are still children.
When they go to camp in the summer they are transformed!  I'm sure their supervisors would say they are still teenagers, and I know they are, but they also become responsible, respectful, compassionate, self-motivated, confident people.  They become their better selves.  They nurture and care for children - other people's precious children!  What a important job!

The expectations of the staff are high ~ those who make poor choices are sent home.  There is no room for messing up in a big way when you are caring for other people's children.  There is forgiveness and second chances, but the rules are clear and the consequences are immediate.  Because they are teenagers I know that at any point one of my children could make one bad choice and be home for the rest of the summer.  I'm confident they won't - they love where they are and what they get to do there too much!  I think they also love being away from home.  I know they love me, but sometimes I "mother" too much.  At camp they are responsible for their own selves, I can't rescue them and they know that and appreciate it.  I think.

I miss them a lot.  I wish they could come with us when we travel to see other family, but am so proud that they made their own decisions to stay and do their very important work.  As hard as I can be on myself, it is times like this when I know I've been a pretty good mom and my husband and I have done a pretty good job raising some amazing people.  

goodbyes

As life moves along, we begin to say "goodbye" more and more.  Our children engage more in the world without us, friends move away, others say goodbye in a more permanent way, or they don't.  They leave us to say goodbye.  We say goodbye to dreams and ideas, people and places.
Some goodbyes are good ~ goodbye to a hated job or class.  Goodbye to 10 lbs!  Others are harder.  Goodbye to the things you thought you would do by now.  Goodbye to the fantasy life, child, job, whatever.
Others are really hard.
Yesterday I got a phone call I was expecting, but hoped to never get.  My dear friend Ellen had passed away Tuesday night.  "Auntie Ellen", as my children called her, was a sweet presence in our lives.  She did not have children of her own, but LOVED and CHERISHED her own nieces and nephews and so many other children.  Too many to count.  I really saw how she loved my children.
When we were 24 and new to our church, Ellen welcomed us with the open arms of family and celebrated with us when we told her we were expecting our first child.  She stood with us when Andrew's baptism was remembered here in Connecticut and became his "Connecticut Godmother".  We both lived far from our families, both with two sisters and a brother, and we understood what it was like to be far away from that network of love and support.
Over the 20 years she was a part of our lives, we took her love for granted.  While she was always there for us, I don't know if we were always there for her.  Absorbed in the chaos of raising children, we didn't always reach out.  We included her in our lives when we NEEDED her and when we would think of it; sometimes last minute.  She however, was always there.  Sitting through concerts and recitals, taking our children to see Santa year after year as a special Christmas outing ~ celebrating Christmas with us, sometimes in late January!
Over the years her bond with my daughters became especially strong as they shared sleepovers and shopping trips.  Going to the Dollar Store with Auntie Ellen was much more fun than going with Mom!
I expected to have more time with her - I needed her to help me get my girls through adolescence.  Those significant adults that play a role in your child's life are SO IMPORTANT, and she was one that cannot be replaced.
A week before she died, she left Connecticut on short notice to join her family in Ohio to be cared for in Hospice.  This is where she needed to be and I'm grateful that she got there.  Jeff, Andrew and I were able to see her the weekend before she left.  When I called about bringing the girls to see her, she couldn't do it.  I understand.  Her grief and shock were so strong, she just couldn't bear to say goodbye to the people she loved.  I understand it, and know that my role now is to help my girls say goodbye.  Sadly this will be one of many goodbyes to come over the years.

As life moves along, we say goodbye more and more.