Reality

Caught somewhere between the reality of a three-year-old and a ninety-six-year-old, my daughter and I found joy on this day in late July.  

It was somehow a terribly busy day in which we failed to accomplish all we set out to do.  Then came that moment.

My mother who has recently suffered from bouts of dementia, especially when ill, began to tell a story.  Four generations were traveling in my van together to take her for a scan of her neck.  Yes, she had broken her neck in January and needed one final CT scan, however that is a story for another day.  She began by saying,  "I was going to ask Justin if this was real or not."  She continued to tell an amazing story about her new apartment.  "You know there is a fire alarm on one wall and a phone thing on another wall.  Well, sparks were shooting between them and the alarm was making a sound like it was on fire."  On and on she went with her story.  

I reassured her, as I had done previously many times.  I gently reminded her that if something seems too unusual or unreal, it must not really be happening.  She patiently listened to me, and whether she accepted my analysis or not, she sweetly did not argue.  Rather she described in more detail what she had "seen".  

Three-year-old Wesley in the back seat was listening intently!  I reassured him that what Beezy thought she saw was not real.

After a few minutes of quiet had passed, Wesley began telling a story.  "Flames and sparks were shooting from the wall.  The firefighters and police officers came to help."  Wesley went on and on with his own animated version of the "spark story".

We were driving through the countryside and Beezy, my mother, began singing about the corn growing in Iowa...a song I had heard often as a child.  Wesley told her the music would make the police officer stop our car.

And so our morning went.  Wesley's mother and myself smiled and smiled.  And patiently listened.

The three-year-old and the ninety-six-year-old had stories to tell us.

We were blessed today to be the listeners.  And to contemplate the circle of life.  Today we fit in the middle of the circle and could tell reality from fiction.  Some day we will be somewhere else in the circle.  Hopefully, someone will be listening with joy to our reality.  Hopefully someone will still love us not matter what!

House

Excitement prevailed for this family of five one day in May nearly thirty-one years ago.  Dad, Mom and three school aged children were moving into their big new house.  Oh it was kind of an ugly house, built in 1978 and still decorated in browns and had lots of paneling.  The carpet was the ugliest ever seen!  But the brown house was nice and big and would be a great house for our large family. Sitting on that ugly carpet in the living room we ate our first meal together along with our gracious movers, friends, who volunteered their services.

Before we knew it, after some significant renovations, the house began to feel like home.  Celebrations began as birthdays came along in the house on Princeton Avenue.  Children, grandchildren, mom and dad were celebrated. Yes, there were lots of birthday parties, each one creating memories along the way and honoring life and family.

In this house, weddings and babies were celebrated with showers.  People were welcomed into the family at engagement parties.  Anniversaries were a time for reflection and a celebration of continuing love.  The season of tea parties began while we lived in this house and The Bourbonnais Tea Ladies became a symbol and vehicle for lifetime friendships.  

The house sheltered friends who gathered in.  There were so many people! Friends of each of our children, as well as the many friends we met along life's way, came through our front door. They all graced the house with their presence and their personalities.  Hopefully people went away a bit happier for joining in with our family.  Some came into our lives for a season and some for a lifetime.

We brought our fourth child home from the hospital to this house.  "It's A Girl" printed on a sign, draped the large front window to hale her homecoming.  All the thrill of new life along with the sleepless nights were lived here for our final time as new parents.  The sweet joy of babyhood filled these walls.  And before we knew it, that joy arrived again at the birth of our first grandchild, Elliana, who came home to our house as a newborn.

Yes, children have filled the brown house on Princeton!  For the first eleven years, a daycare business was operated here.   Over eighty children grew and played.  Big wheel bikes squealed down the gently sloping driveway along with sounds of laughter being heard up and down the street.  The backyard, which we fenced in, was a wonderful play yard, complete with swing set, sandbox, castles and forts.  And in the summer a "Slip N Slide" and small pool provided hours of joy.

Four teenagers passed through this house and grew into adults.  Lots of laughter and teasing was shared.  Events and graduations were celebrated.  Four kids learned to drive while we lived at the Princeton house.  Four college searches were accomplished. And, at times, doors were slammed, harsh words were spoken, guidance was given and tears were shed. In the end, four amazing, capable adults emerged.  They went away to college and eventually found spouses.  They moved in and out of our house as they began their early adulthood.  We all learned a lot!

And now, they gather back into our house, their childhood home.  They all made us grandparents and the eight little people who call us Grandma and Grandpa are such a delight to us.  Each birth filled our hearts with incredible joy, and each time the children and grandchildren came through the front door more memories were made.  Each Christmas and Easter, along with any other day of the year were reasons to gather together. The house even sheltered four generations at many of our gatherings as the "Greatest Generation" visited and loved and shared their wisdom with all of us.  Eventually a wheelchair was carried up and down the front steps to accomplish our gatherings.

Of course we had a good time keeping the Princeton house looking it's best inside and out.  Over the years many decorating projects were accomplished to keep the house looking nice, and stylish as well. One summer three teenagers painted the exterior and oh, what an experience that was! A bedroom was added as our family grew.  Eventually a wall between bedrooms was removed because so many bedrooms were no longer needed.  In later years we worked on making a perennial garden in the back yard and felt a sense of accomplishment as the plants pushed through the ground and grew bigger each year.  The beauty was truly enjoyed.  The fence, which was no longer needed, was removed.    

The brown house on Princeton sheltered us though many recoveries from surgeries, too many to count actually.  We came home to our sweet house, and through it all, the home therapies, the IV treatments, the tube feedings, all was accomplished within the walls of our house.  Learning to walk again over and over was a pattern too often followed.  However the most essential goal of recovery was achieved numerous times for both hubby and for me.

Recently we realized that our dear house on Princeton is too difficult to take care of.  The steps that we used to run up and down are now a challenge.  Taking care of the lawn and exterior has become too difficult and we are counting on the help of our kids and neighbors more and more.  And before our eyes we realize we can't stay in this house any more. It is time to say goodbye and find a house where we will be safe and also independent.  The home search has begun

.All of a sudden, but not really, everything changes!

                                                               ++++++++++++++++

Never having completed this blog entry, I come to finish it now nearly one and a half years later.  We are settled in our new house, the tan ranch on Bethel, and of course, are already making new memories here.  However, I wanted to finish my thoughts on the brown house on Princeton where so much of our life as a family of six happened.  When we sold that house, I wrote a personal note to the young family moving in there, a family of four.  I told them of all the little idiosyncrasies about the house that only we knew and I wished them a happy life. Once I wrote my thoughts to them I could move on. The new family has already made lots of changes inside and out, making the house their own, and that is the way it should be

With the help of our local children and their spouses, we staged, we packed, we stored, we cleaned, we listed, we sold and we moved.  Saying goodbye to the house was not difficult for hubby and me, for we knew the time had come to move on with life in a different place.  

Thank you brown house on Princeton.  You did a great job providing four walls where we could make a home for so many years.  You showed us that a house, even a seemingly ugly house at first glance, can become a home...a home where all six of us became the people we are today.