Life, Moving On

Its been a couple of years since I wrote on this blog; time to catch up a bit. My oldest daughter presented me with two lively grandsons (with the younger, Lukas pictured here), and my niece has three beautiful children now, two of them here. I've moved to Washington DC -- not sure yet if the move is permanent, but it was time for me to stop living like a hermit and do some networking.  More later, life is pretty busy these days.

Speak Now

Joe is waiting to talk. He often touches another person's lips to indicate "I want to talk too." He knows other people form words with their lips; he doesn't understand why the muscles in his mouth and jaw are so weak, they can't sustain speech. Every month I call our local senator's office and remind him about the amendment to NYS Medicaid law, to allow Joe to have the prescribed supplement which will strengthen his muscles and let him form words with his lips, like everyone else. The bill is waiting approval to be put on the agenda so the committee can discuss it. Really? Are we kidding? Must call more senators, or see if PA will be more accepting of children like Joe. How long will he have to wait? This is a rare photo of Joe actually looking at the camera. Joe will do things for Maggie he won't do for anyone else, even his twin. She just says, "Joe, look," and he does.

Nicholas

Born on the Feast of the Annunciation, the day our Blessed Mother discovered she was to be the mother of the Messiah. What a perfect way to celebrate the birth of another firstborn son! Three very tired people: Elizabeth, brand-new son, Nicholas, and her husband, John. After twenty-something hours of labor, no drugs, plenty of grit and determination, Elizabeth delivered her son. She and John were amazingly in sync throughout labor and delivery, even handling the constant re-hooking of the baby monitor and IV with grace. Labor is challenging enough without constantly watching to be sure you don't get tangled up in the machinery monitoring your baby's heartbeat. It was a joy-filled experience to be there for labor and delivery, helping Elizabeth brace and re-position for each push. She gripped my hands so hard I thought they must be broken, then pushed against me again and again, for hours. John and I were on either side, literally guiding Elizabeth so she wouldn't fall off the narrow hospital bed as she moved about. The doctor, midwife and doula came in and out, checking monitors, coaching, massaging, encouraging. The pains continued, harder and faster until Nicholas' head finally emerged, then slippery as a fish, his shoulders, torso, long legs kicking. John and I just looked at each other, standing on either side of Elizabeth, and laughed for sheer happiness. No matter how many times you go through this, it's always a gift from the Lord, this new person emerging into the world. My arms and shoulders would ache for days afterwards. No matter. Nicholas is here!

Someone To?

So, I moved, two hours away, into Pennsylvania. It felt so strange to leave the house where I'd raised my five children --four of them were born right there, at home -- but it was time.

It feels scary but invigorating at the same time. Now, I definitely feel single, and very alone. When I have more work, I tell myself, it will feel better. Right now I'm just a stranger, a new person in town. But I will meet people and get involved in things.

I'll be back every month anyway, to check on the house, see Rob and Joe, but I also need to get down to the city, to see Liz, John, and Lucey. Soon, in about a month, my grandson will arrive. Stopped by the co-op to pick up Maggie, taking her to JFK last weekend, I saw the crib is already up and waiting...

I was feeling so trapped in that empty house, in that too-quiet little hamlet, hemmed in by ice and snow, and frequent snowstorms. My life isn't there.

I found a lovely housemate, nice neighborhood, a church I like with daily Mass and other activities. This is a very populated area, lots to do. Certainly a better chance of meeting someone who might be interested in an exclusive relationship. I still hope and pray that will happen. I've spent so many years alone as a single parent, always focused on the children, it would be lovely to find someone who wants to be there for me. Someday, I will.

Meanwhile the Lord is calling me to stay close to Him, to have no fear, only love. Because His love casts out fear.

In The Depths of Winter

Came home from work, went out to the big kindling box behind the shed, loaded up a container of kindling to put by the back door. Checked that we had plenty of coal next to the stove. Rob had already brought in plenty of logs, but they're all too damp, because he had to dig them out of the snow, the woodpile being almost gone and therefore under the snow...
Sigh, something else to add to my "to do when it's warmer" list -- frame out the wood pile before I order another cord this summer -- so it won't be resting on the ground next January.
Of course, things will be different next winter, as I don't expect anyone will be living in the house full-time. Lucey's off to college, Joe's away at school, Maggie's back from Belgium for a month or so before heading off to Luxembourg, Rob will likely move on after he finishes at the community college this spring, Liz and John are readying their nest for the new little one, and then, who knows where I'll be?
I told God my plans; (He got a nice chuckle out of them, anyway.) Once the kids are gone: get lots of writing done, pay off debts, travel, see the world, maybe meet someone?
Hey, I thought it was a good plan. I've got a nice set of golf clubs sitting in the attic, waiting for my first lesson this spring. Maybe I'll get some putting practice in this winter, before that first grandchild arrives in a few months...

Summer at Sacred Heart Church

This is just a picture of the twins, from Sacred Heart Church -- a couple of weeks ago, I think. Joe was so happy to see his (younger) twin sister. He thinks she's the coolest thing on two legs. And she's always been there for him, ever since that day, fifteen years ago, when she toddled over to Joe and handed him a bottle, saying, "Dofus! Badoh!" She's been his lifeline ever since.
Joe used to come home from school to a houseful of children, siblings and their friends who automatically became his friends too, God bless them! Now, too often he comes home for a weekend with just me. If I plan it right, he keeps busy visiting all his favorite places: Peck's Market, where all the pretty high school girls work, the recycling center where Joe gets to dump the glass bottles into the big container and listen to the satisfying crash, yeah! And sometimes we go by Jesse's and he comes over to greet Joe, leaving a car up on the lift for Joe to look at. Pretty girls and cool, macho guys who work with cars and smash up garbage, that's Joe's world.

I'll Take Romance

"Rob," I told my 19 year old son, "I just did something I haven't done in 29 years and eleven months. Without missing a beat Rob declared, "you went on a date." I asked the kids if they were okay with this. They just looked at me, amused. Their expressions were clear: it's about time.
"After all," said 16 year old Lucey, "we're all grown up now."
So, maybe I waited longer than I should have, thinking my kids weren't ready. Heck with that, I wasn't ready. Some people are good at multi-tasking. I just couldn't see raising 5 children and dating. Something wrong with that picture, I thought.
But still, it wasn't wasted time. I got into reading the Bible and praying and meditating, got much closer to the Lord, so much so that I've learned to praise Him in every situation, and be grateful for all His blessings.
Now, in the back of my mind there's this mental countdown to next August when Lucey, at 16, goes off to college and I'm all alone with the cats. Most days, I come home to an empty house now, anyway, as my two remaining teenagers are busy with their own lives.
Unfortunately, that first date turned into a stalker. I actually had to call the police, change my phone number and block him from my email. And it was my own fault; the Lord had said "no" quite clearly. The next time, I asked Him first. Much better approach.
I'm going on a second date next week, with someone of whom the Lord approves. More later.

May and June

Maggie graduated from St. John's on May 17th, with thousands of spectators. Wonderful, moving speech by Immaculee Ilibagiza from Rwanda. Maggie loaned me her book, LEFT TO TELL, amazing story. I sat with the family & Clare Scott's family. Lauren joined us and shared her news; she's joining a religious order in Michigan, just glowing with joy. I've got to know so many of Maggie's friends, extraordinary group of talented people.
The graduation itself was filmed as background for a new movie with Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin. Maggie had signed up to play an extra in the film the next day, forgetting she had a road trip planned to Cape Cod/Maine with friends. So she gave her spot to Robby. Robby showed up the next day, with Maggie's number. The casting coordinator looked up, puzzled: "You're Maggie Snyder?" she queried, reasonably, since Robby with full beard looks nothing like his sister. "No," he responded politely, "but I already have my costume," and he held up the graduation robe. They accepted him on the spot.
Robby's graduation, on June 27th was typical for our upriver hamlet-on-the-Delaware. About 60 kids graduated on the front lawn with parents and friends in attendance, accompanied by members of the jr high band, and a few high schoolers, like Rob's sister Lucey, now the only one of my children still attending Eldred High School. Robby did well, completed a Regents diploma and received two good-sized local scholarships. Notably, half the class, including Robby, will be atttending OCCC; a sure sign of the economic downturn.
Afterwards, we celebrated at home, with cakes for Rob Sr. and Elizabeth's 26th birthday, plus Robby's graduation cake, with a shower of presents for all three celebrants.

To The Wedding

Elizabeth, my oldest child, and her fiancee, John, are wonderful organizers. They both worked hard and saved up to buy a co-op apartment in a nice section of Queens. Next, they saved up to pay for their wedding. They've been renovating the apartment and it looks lovely. In two weeks, they will marry, in a civil ceremony attended by 60 of their closest family and friends.

Still, my heart aches for this lovely young woman who refuses to consider or even acknowledge the wisdom of establishing any kind of relationship with Jesus Christ.

When she was fifteen years old, she announced she was moving in with her father down in Long Island. She no longer wished to attend church, and told me she was tired of the whole thing. In living with her father, she seemed to take on his values, those of the world.

She saw nothing wrong with moving in with her boyfriend and having sex outside of marriage. After all, her father was having an affair, so it must be all right.

"I'm not hurting anybody," was her defense.

Then, when she and John were ready to get married, she asked about our traditions.

"Getting married before a priest, in a Roman Catholic church," I answered.

"I'll ask Grandma," she said, shortly.

"Oh, we're Catholics, so it is our tradition to marry in a church ceremony, before a priest," Grandma told her.

Elizabeth didn't like those answers, so she ignored them.

"We're going to have an "officient," she told us.

Always efficient, she typed up a detailed list of what would happen during the civil ceremony.

The officient would use words like "sacred vows," and we their friends and family would form a "community of love," to support them. They would ensure the longevity of their marriage through human endeavor, ignoring the 70% divorce rate of couples who live together before marriage.

Maggie would be allowed to recite "Love is patient," from Corinthians, but only verses 4-8, which do not mention God.

Grandma would be allowed to sing the refrain from a nuptial blessing, but not permitted to ask others to join in, lest they feel uncomfortable at the mere mention of the Almighty.

We are all praying hard for Elizabeth and John, that their hearts may be opened to the Lord.

Not hurting anyone?

This is my firstborn; ever since I first held her in my arms, I have been thanking the Lord for her existence.

She is my joy, the light of my life, my heart.

And it is breaking, to know the burden she carries, blinded by pride, anger and hurt.

I would do anything to lift that burden from her, but she will not hear of it.

She refuses the Lord, and insists she can do everything on her own.

God, help her.

Help them.

Amen.

Sub-Zero Blessings

For years we have prayed over everything in the house, and it has really paid off; every single thing in the house has lasted much longer than usual. Including the oil-burning furnace.
Mid-January 2009: the Northeast experienced record-breaking sub-zero temperatures.
The sub-station iced over and power went out in our area last Thursday night.
I could feel the chill creeping into my bones as the thermometer plunged lower and lower.
I remember thinking helplessly of the nice new generator in our cellar.
Couldn't afford to hire someone to install it, so it sat there.
Next morning when the power finally came back on (God bless those NYSEG workers who came on duty at 2:00 a.m. !) I hurried downstairs to the cellar, plugged in a radiating heater to keep the pipes from freezing, and pushed the reset button on the oil burner which supplies our heat and hot water.
Nothing happened.
I prayed, checked the water levels in the feeder, tightened the hoses and tried again.
Again, nothing.
I called the plumber, left a message, plugged in some electric heaters and waved my two remaining teenagers off to school.
I worked at home Friday morning, so I went in my tiny office which has an electric baseboard heater and tried to work, waiting for the plumber to call back.
By the time the kids came home from school, he still hadn't called and the house was literally freezing as the temp dropped down to minus 11. Thick ice piled up on the windows, inside.
I called friends who were supposed to come to dinner & told them we would have to cancel.
They insisted on inviting us over for the weekend, so we packed and left for their cozy home, half an hour away.
I spent much of the weekend calling plumbers. Quite a few people were without heat we found out, when I finally reached our plumber Monday afternoon. "I can maybe get to you the end of next week," was his curt response, and he abruptly hung up.
Meanwhile we had been snowed in at our friends house all weekend; we even missed Sunday Mass. We did have a lovely visit with them, and their six wonderfully charming kids.
When we came back home Monday morning, I pulled into the neighbor's drive so we could dig out our own driveway. Larry came over to help; we do have such nice next-door neighbors!
The new plumber never came; when we finally reached him that night, he apologized and promised to get to us the next day.
He did finally arrive Wednesday afternoon, only to inform me that the oil-burner was shot, and a new one would cost about $5,000.
I couldn't help it; I started crying. I was so tired of working all the time and being really, really cold. I felt like I couldn't think straight, and I was moving in slow motion. Everything I did seemed to take forever. We were constantly boiling water for cooking and baths and everything we touched was very cold. I didn't bother to take off my coat, knit gloves and snow boots when I came into the house, just wore them until it was time for bed.
Six days later we're still cold, but the kids are tired of staying at other people's houses and said they'll just tough it out here with me. My friends suggested getting an electric hot water heater and baseboard heaters. Actually, what David said was "I'm going to buy them and you can pay me back whenever." The new plumber is going to try and patch up the old oil-burner to keep it going, maybe tomorrow he'll come back with some used parts. My tax refund should come in next month, so I might be able to buy a coal stove also. In the meantime, we're just counting our blessings:
Friends are offering to bring us wood, since we burned up all we had. People are praying for us, even the plumber. We have electricity, and (cold) running water, the pipes haven't frozen, the kids are just plain being wonderfully understanding and patient and kind to each other.
Praise God.

Communion

Maggie has been receiving so many honors at school in the past few years. I'm glad she's in a good Catholic university that recognizes how amazing she is. But now, as a senior, she's looking at the real world. The wonderful thing about Maggie is, she's looking at it as a "care-taker," that is, someone who genuinely wants to help others. She's talking about doing a year of service. And then?

I told her she should consider running the United Nations. Maggie's greatest talent has always been helping others to get along. In elementary school they called her "the peacemaker."

I just have wonderful kids!

Lost in Time

Whew. Started a new job on January 14th, and life went into overdrive.
I like the job very much, but as a single mom with five children, my life was already full.
Only the reality of needing to pay bills kept me looking for something that would be satisfying and offer a regular paycheck.
BUT I just lost four months. Four whole months with practically no writing time.
I'm determined to put that back in my schedule,
with a shoehorn if necessary....
I can breathe better, when I write.
My relationship with Jesus Christ is infinitely better, when I am writing.
And then, I remember who I am, whose I am.
His.

Above, is an old picture, from years ago. Elizabeth and Maggie used to put on their pink snowsuits and crawl around under the big fir trees in front of the house, pretending they were explorers. The trees have been home to families of cardinals and bluejays for more than twenty years; they would fly off, squawking, when the girls began to play there. If you look closely, you can see Elizabeth under the left one...

Christmas is over, everything put away til next year, with a few goodies bought at one of those after-Christmas sales, tucked in the boxes as a surprise for whichever one of the kids brings them down next Advent...

When I brought Joe back to his school after vacation, all the kids gathered round. The ones who could speak shouted, "Joe's back!" and they all wanted to hug him. Joe just sat there, grinning at them. They are the sweetest bunch of guys. No wonder he likes it there.

Just started a new job. I'd been working part-time in advocacy and looking everywhere for a good, full-time position with benefits, paid holidays, time to be with my children. Praise God, I found one, working with families of children with special needs, again, but much better pay, and guaranteed full-time, with lots of potential for advancement. Nice people, too. I wake up every morning and just give praise for all His goodness.

Why, then, do I feel so empty? Joe took up so much of my time, I had no time for a social life. Now, I suppose it's too late for that. Never mind; I have my children, a good job, time to write and pray. That will have to do.

I am truly grateful for all I have. Why do I still want more?

Thanksgiving

What am I thankful for?
My children, first, and always.
Coming home.
A hug from one of my teenagers when I come in the door.
That sudden realization that "right now," is precious and unrepeatable.
Ordinary moments.
Close friends.
Hands joined in prayer.
Voices joined in song.
Laughter, and tears.
Watching my kids perform in the high school play.
A smile from our choir director when we get it right.
My younger son, waving at me from the big front window.
An email from someone who knew me when.
Words of comfort, from the Lord.
My family.
Hope.

He Likes It!

Phew. Lucey and I took Joe up to his new school. There are eight of these ten-bedroom ranch houses around a central school building, all on one campus. His "house" is right next to a big playground. The other boys in his house are very sweet. When Lucey and I came in, one of them shouted "There's a GIRL in here!" very excited to see Lucey. We got Joe settled and said a quick goodbye. Joe seemed fine. Two days later, I went back to visit, bringing Joe's two older sisters up from the city. One of the boys (only a few of them are verbal) called out, "Joe, how many sisters do you have?" Elizabeth and Maggie charmed all the boys, as Lucey had. Joe seemed very happy, hanging out with the guys in his house. His case manager says they love having him in the school. He seems to fit in very well; he's wearing underwear and taking showers, two things I could never get him to do. Is it that easy? Wow. They're giving him some time to get used to things; in two weeks we'll have his first IEP meeting, to establish his goals. They've already met two of mine. He likes it! Yeah, Joe!
But I miss him. My hands miss signing things to him. I find myself signing the "Our Father," to no one, and reaching for his hands to help him with things.
I keep telling myself, if he's happy, I'm happy.
When I first moved into this house 21 years ago, I had 1.5 children, with three-year-old Elizabeth, and Maggie due in a few months. By 1993, when Joe and Lucey were born, the house was full to overflowing, especially when their friends came over. Now, we're down to two children again, and the house feels too empty.
But he likes it! Joe's adjusting, and so will we.
God is so good.

Letting Go

We have just two weeks left until Joe goes off to school. I've spoken to other parents who have sent their children away; one mom had to send her child to residential when he was only five years old. And he was her only child. Unimaginable.
As a community advocate I spend my days helping other people solve their problems. I wish I had a better solution to Joe's needs. Tony at Devereaux School says the children do adjust to their new home, but I remember one young man who came up to him while he was showing me around the campus, saying "Tony, when can I go home?"
It just broke my heart. My son, being non-verbal, can't even ask.

All of Us Are Dying

What I love most are Mondays, when I can go to Eucharistic Adoration in our church. We are a very small parish, so we only have it once a week. It's a beautiful time to be still and listen to the Lord. I just let Him in, and drink up every word. Such riches!
Now, most of the people who go to Eucharistic Adoration are at least ten or twenty-plus years older than I am. In the past ten years, several of them have gone home to be with the Lord. I want to encourage more people my age to come to Church, but when I try to share how wonderful this is with friends, they look at me blankly. I wish I knew how to reach them. If you knew someone who loved you THAT much and never let you down, wouldn't you want to be with Him all time?
I find, when I go home, He reminds me to take Him with me.

No Place Like Home

People sometimes ask where I get these pictures from. The nicely flattering implication is I find them online, I guess. Not being very "techno," I just point the digital and shoot. All the beautiful children on here are mine. This is Lucey up in the apple tree, shaking down a bountiful harvest. We are putting up tons of fresh, tart, organic applesauce this year; makes it hard to even think of eating the bland stuff you find in stores. God is good; when you live in the country, you really get spoiled.
Just heard from Joe's new placement. They have a spot for him. Now, how do I tell my handsome, sweet, funny, charming little boy he's going off to boarding school? I know he has to go. I can't meet his needs any more, the other kids are gone most of the day, and Joe's not happy being the only child at home. Plus, as a single mom, I really have to work. He had a great time at respite camp this summer, hanging out with other teenage boys at about his level; absolutely loved every minute of camp and beamed when we asked how he liked it.
We get to visit him on weekends; but they say he shouldn't come home except for holidays. I keep telling myself he's only going to be two hours away, but the truth is, it's a whole different world. I think he can come back next summer. I wish he didn't have to go. How can anyone else possibly love him like we do?

Goodbye and Hello

Just sang at a lovely funeral for a friend's mother.
Actually, Mary was singing the Mass for her own mother, and I joined a few choir members in supporting her. She sang beautifully, and delivered a heartfelt eulogy at the end of the Mass.
As she sang, I was remembering the viewing I'd gone to the night before; the family had arranged hundred's of photos of Mary's mother and dad with their six beautiful children and grandchildren around the closed casket. Mary's dad, the town mayor, shook hands and greeted everyone with his kind smile. He looked tired, but at peace after his wife's long illness.
Mary and her brothers and sister were sharing stories with friends, laughing and crying over a life well lived, a mother greatly loved.
Makes you stop and think: "what would people say about me?"
Came home to find a friend is expecting another child.

A Gift in Disguise

I've been turned down for jobs in the past, because I have a child with severe needs, now a teenager. People mean it kindly, they say, "Oh, you can't work, you have Joe." I smile and walk away, seething inside. Of course I have Joe, and he likes to eat, just like any other child.
For almost fourteen years I have carried this burden, seeing the painted-on smiles of people who look at me and my son as if we were both low-functioning non-people. The smile is too bright, the eyes pass somewhere over our heads as they nod and move on. Some stop and say, "oh, I just love children like your son, they're so adorable." Others, more well-intentioned say, "I don't know how you do it," implying I have extraordinary abilities. What they're really saying is "-but I'm glad it's you and not me."
I ended up having to patch together childcare on a day-to-day basis, using three of Joe's siblings as a sort of tag-team. For several years I worked in a city an hour away, where no one knew my younger son. I missed most of my childrens' growing-up during those years.
Finally, I started teaching in a school district half an hour away from my house, still juggling childcare responsibilities with the other children, because no one wanted to watch Joe. Substitute teaching in a nearby district meant I was pretty much on Joe's schedule.
A kind neighbor started watching him for half an hour in the mornings, so I could get to work. I taught at the high school so I could be home in time for Joe.
There was no question of working in the school district where I lived; I had spent too many years advocating for my son to receive a Free and Appropriate Education according to the Commissioner's Regulations for the State of New York.
My son is a wonderful, handsome young man who likes to hang around with regular boys and girls. He can't talk to them; he just likes being there. He loves music and french fries with ketchup, and water slides and any place that has lots of boys and girls around. Joe likes it when his friends read him stories or play ball with him. Most of all, he loves it when they talk to him, as if he could talk back.
He just likes being treated like a person.
Recently, I applied for a job with a community action group, in another town, of course. They reviewed my credentials and said everything was fine, but "this job involves working with parents of children with special needs. In order for them to feel you're not looking down on them, we can only hire someone who has a child with special needs."
I just smiled, and pulled out Joe's picture.
The so-called burden had become a gift.
A friend likened my situation to that of Hagar, in Genesis 21, where she has fled with her son Ishmael into the desert.
After wandering God knows how long, Hagar finally lets go of her burden, her son. When she does, a well of fresh water appears, and she and Ishmael are saved. "God was with the child as he grew up."
Another story about letting go, and trusting God.