Everyday Life

Summer is here and a simpler time has arrived for a few months.  We're still doing a little bit of school to keep the brain cobwebs at bay, much to everyone's (mine included) dismay.  It just puts us a little further ahead in September for the days when we want to take off early and go to the creek.

Reading good books ~

Oregon strawberries from one of our favorites ~

Tiny, juicy, real....we gobbled them up with cream, ice cream, cereal ~  

Delicious!

Trying out a friend's Spartan course ~

It's really every kid's dream.

 

You can do it, Annika 

All the way to the top!

Nickles and his little buddy chattin' about Calvin & Hobbes ~

Happy Father's Day

Happy Father's Day to my favorite!  In the past year, you have started leading our family in a new and stronger direction.  Despite my dragging feet, you continue pulling us towards Heaven calling us to be holier. Not that you don't have your "moments"," but we all feel your love palpably.

I love you Shannon ~

Showing Daddy some treasure ~

Fishing with the boys  ~

Knotted lines and broken reels probably wasn't what you had in mind.

We know how you adore horses,

but your daughter loves them so you stood in the picture.

Sleeping babies ~

Happy Father's Day!

Goodbye Father Stu

Our friend, Father Stu, joined the Choirs of Angels early yesterday morning.  While my heart is sad at moments, I am so happy for him!  He is whole once more, and if he's made it out of Purgatory (he was dreadfully afraid of remaining there for a mighty long time) has probably found someone to wrestle with.  I am so grateful to have known him...thank you, Jake, for introducing us and encouraging me to visit him! Initially, I viewed our visits as a corporal work of mercy.  Now I realize our time together was a spiritual work of mercy on his part: instruct the ignorant, admonish the sinner, counsel the doubtful, etc.

He was a true friend, but it wasn't until Theresa's relapse and death that I knew the depth of his friendship. He always knew the right things to say to me, even if they felt harsh at the moment.  He also knew when I needed a good laugh and was willing to provide humor if that was what I needed!  After that we would occasionally chat about death, wondering what the last moments would be like, especially his last moments.  

Then Shannon and I learned that #8 was on the way.  I couldn’t wait to tell Father.  He, of course, had a name chosen - Maximilian.  To placate him, I said we may use it as a middle name.  Each time we visited Father Stu, he insisted that Maximilian was the name of our child.  After all, it was one of his favorite saints; he even had the saint’s prison number written on his medication patches.  It was really one more subject to debate with him, along with who the better actor is between Harrison Ford and Bruce Willis, or whether basketball, hockey, football or wrestling were sports worth competing in or even worth watching.  

We then learned that our little guy was probably going to die, but Father Stu wasn’t convinced.  He embarked upon a prayer mission.  While I cried at the side of my bed, begging God to take our baby sooner versus later, knowing how difficult it would be to lose a baby at term, he was praying that this little guy would be healed.  Interiorly, I chuckled at his naivety.  Really, what did he know about pregnancy and children?  Besides, I no longer believed in miracles after Theresa’s death.  At least not miracles for me. 

Meanwhile, Shannon and I named our son Maximilian Joseph.  My logic at the moment was that it really didn’t matter what our child was named since he was going to die.  Besides Max would be in Heaven, and more than likely Father Stu would be joining him sooner than I.

Towards the end of the pregnancy, when we found out that little Maximo was going to make it, but had one remaining defect that could be very life limiting, Father ramped up his prayers for our little Max.   Of course, he was not surprised when Maximilian made his debut November 16^thscreaming, a picture of vitality.  And he was less surprised when he drank from a bottle and began nursing.  He wasn’t in the least bit astonished when we were able to bring him home to meet his brothers and sisters a week after his birth.  I asked him a month ago why he believed when I had not.  He replied, “Because I believe in one God that is so much greater than anything this world can throw at us.”

He asked me to make a couple promises in our visits these past years.  I wouldn’t commit, knowing promises are easily broken.  The first was to stand up at his funeral and ask everyone to pray for his soul.  He was convinced he would be in Purgatory for a long, long time.  Surely, he must have made this request of many people!  

Another time he began a conversation, “Allison, we’re friends, right?” 

“Oh good heavens,” I thought, “What is next?”

“We’ve been good friends for a few years now, right?" he continued.

"Kill me now, this is going to be interesting," was all I could think.

"I got to name your son, right?  Then, promise me you’ll let him wrestle.”   

God help me, but I couldn’t make that promise either.  If for some reason Max does wrestle, despite my aversion to the sport, I will know Father Stu has escaped the confines of Purgatory and is petitioning for us all before the throne of God!

Indeed, Father showed me what true faith is.  I absolutely believe that Father’s intercession is why I am holding Max now.  I know now that if every prayer were answered we would already be in Heaven.  Miracles are simply a foreshadowing of what’s to come.  A friend asked following Max’s birth if I now believe in miracles. Yes, absolutely, yes I do.  God’s plan is so much bigger than ours.  And Father Stu has shown me, led me, and inspired me to believe even when we cannot see.

  

Welcome Home Michaela!

Michaela arrived home last night after spending a month with Margaret and her crew in Germany.  Mags and Alex treated her like a queen; she arrived home feeling rejuvenated and ready for whatever is next in life. In Michaela's absence, many things have happened around the house from landscape projects to her little sister making herself at home in Michaela's room.  Everyone was excited to show off all the changes and M just had to share all her stories.  Now, it's off to graduation parties and summer work projects before college begins this fall.  

 

May Funnies

Shannon has an employee who is a man of few words.  He has been working up at the house for a couple days much to Nickles' delight.  Nickles chatters away while Tyler works, works, works.  Nickles was telling Katherine how Tyler doesn't talk.  To demonstrate his point he yelled and waved at Tyler, "Hey Tyler!  Hi Tyler!"
When Tyler didn't respond Nickles turned to Kath, "See, he doesn't talk."
The poor guy, he's probably totally overwhelmed with so many kiddos running around that he's been struck dumb!

Dominic doing school work, "I'm so smart it makes my head hurt."

While at the county getting an address sign, we were told if we waited a moment they would make the sign right away so we didn't need to return.  Nickles and I were walking out in the hallway trying to stay occupied.  Nickles says, "Mom, Mom!  I have a bright idea!  Let's just wait til the man makes our sign and then we can go home."
Yes, son, I'm glad you thought of that.

While this next one wasn't funny at the time, it is now.  We were wrapping up the night, brushing teeth, putting Ranger away, etc. The kiddos couldn't find our sweet little calf; he had escaped again.  Shannon suddenly came into the bathroom, handed me Max and hurried outside.  Wondering what was going on, I looked out the bathroom window to see a man walking up our driveway saying, "My car, my car."
Shannon and I both immediately thought, "Lovely. Ranger is dead up on the highway and this guy hit him."
Shannon asked the man if he had seen a cow.
"No," he replied, "Not a cow, my car is up there," pointing to the rock face up by the highway.
Sure enough, there was his car, crashed into the rocks below the top of our drive.
Apparently, he was out for a Sunday drive, stopped at the top of our driveway to take some pictures, or so he claimed.  The top of our drive is often used as a rest stop, much to my disgust.  His car began to roll towards the edge while he attempted to stop it from tumbling over the brink.  He was unsuccessful, his car ended up crunched amongst the rocks.  Thank heavens there was no one in the vehicle.

The poor guy must have felt like he was in the twilight zone.  After watching his car crumple into a twisted pile of metal, which would be surreal in itself, he was questioned by a man searching for a cow, while everywhere he looked another child popped out of the bushes as they returned from our Ranger-search.

Ranger was eventually discovered standing outside his pen, waiting for his bottle.

Annika summed it up best, "There is always something happening up here!"

Eric left his daily schedule laying out.

I almost died.

It may explain while we're still doing school this year.