Someone wrote a most amazing, loving blog about my mother. You have to go and read it. Click on this link:
Really, it’s got pictures and scripture and beautiful words of praise. You will feel incredibly jealous and wish that this was your mother.
Kathy
Sarah has a new calendar in her room. We put it up on the wall by her bed. She loves this calendar and has filled the pages with birthdays of everyone she knows. We wrote down when we’ll be at co-op and when we go to PE, church events and some holidays.
Birthdays, however, are the most exciting. Birthdays mean presents, cake and parties.
Sarah came downstairs Saturday informing me it was Grandad’s birthday. She proceeded to tell everyone she saw that it was Grandad’s birthday. If the mail man had slowed down a little more she would have told him as well. And how does she know?
“Cause it’s on my calendar and I love Grandad!”
Sarah and Grandad have a serious conversation. July 2002
Happy Birthday, Dad!
Wish we could have been there to celebrate with you. We miss you!!
Kathy
Project 366 - Day 13
This is a post I wrote back in May, that has been simmering in my subconscious. Finally, with Kathy away at camp, it has a chance to see the light of the blogosphere. It is hard to live with a blog-hog, but somehow I manage. 
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It is the weekend before Memorial Day, and I am about to celebrate my fifteenth anniversary with my beloved. Hard to believe that we have been married for so long, and yet in some ways I feel as though we have always been husband and wife. We had hoped to spend four or five days alone in a fancy bed-and-breakfast (well, OK, in our own home) devoid of the scampering feet of our five children. My parents had agreed to take the kids from Wednesday evening through Sunday … I had arranged to take both days off from work — what plans we had! Alas, it was not to be.
‘Great’ Grandma with Sarah (June, 2003)
My Grandma’s death on Tuesday changed all that, and instead of snuggling down with my sweetie, I flew to the east coast to attend my grandmother’s funeral. We scurried around finding a rather expensive last-minute airline ticket for me, but a blow was struck for democracy when I arranged an inexpensive rental car and hotel reservation through Hotwire, my favorite source for rental car bargains.
Sister Posie and cousin Kristi, thick as thieves, as always.
One of the defining characteristics of my grandmother was her propensity for bargain-shopping, so it seemed appropriate to get a good deal when attending her funeral. I only wish US Air would have cooperated.
Strange to discover that both cousins Kevin and Kurt are in the Telecom business these days, like me. Makes you want to rush out and buy a cellphone, doesn’t it?
I traveled to Baltimore with my parents, and, after crossing into Pennsylvania, we stayed overnight in York. Mom and Dad had a bit of an adventure at their hotel, and so we departed more hurriedly than we had intended, heading for the Harrsiburg area without a single Peppermint Patty to cheer our way. Enjoying a delicious luncheon at my aunt and uncle’s home and meeting up with my siblings and my uncle David’s family, we arrived at the church a good 90 minutes before the funeral.
Grandma was very fond of her great-grandchildren, even scruffy ones.
Less than two weeks ago, I had the sorrowful duty of attending a memorial service for six fallen soldiers from the Stryker Brigade at Fort Lewis, killed in Iraq by an explosive device in the road. One of the soldiers was a friend from our church, who had attended our Small Group Bible Study and our Sunday School class. He had married just five months before being deployed, and our church family spent the last several weeks in deep sorrow, struggling to find ways to console his widow, Emily.
In the year that Grandma lived with my folks, David used to play cars with her for hours. It isn’t every day your leg can serve as a superhighway.
As I sat in the church before the memorial service, I was struck by the contrast between this death of my grandmother and the deaths of the young soldiers. Although we feel a sense of loss at Grandma’s home-going, it is mixed with gladness, as we celebrate her long and faithful life, and her ‘promotion’ to Heaven and a new body. I couldn’t seem to find a silver lining in the loss of those six young warriors.
The final roll call for the six soldiers who died was very poignant, as each soldier’s name was repeated three times without answer. “Sergeant Harkins. Sergeant Jason Harkins. Sergeant Jason R. Harkins!”
My cousin Jon Mark has the most joyful, infectious laugh of anyone I know. Hard to believe it of a man who looks so respectable in a suit, but Jon Mark is one of the craziest of a crazy bunch.
I was glad that I had taken the opportunity to attend my grandmother’s birthday party in November, 2005; I felt as though I had said “Goodbye” to her then. I hope I’ll always remember her sitting in the sun in Steve and Sue’s driveway, surrounded by generations of her descendants, enthroned in their love, smiling upon us all from the vantage point of 91 years of life.
Grandma’s pictorial display, complete with her fishing hat.
It was good to have a little time to look at the display Steve and others had assembled, commemorating and highlighting some of the events of Grandma’s life. In a side room, Grandma’s body was laid out in her casket so that we could pay our respects to her ‘in person’ as it were. I was prepared for a strong, sorrowful reaction to seeing her body, but my response was actually very matter-of-fact; my heart seemed to know that wasn’t my Grandma – it was only the body in which she lived for a long time, and which had finally been exchanged for a better model.
A Tree of Grandchildren
All three of my Grandma’s surviving children were present, and eleven out of the thirteen grandchildren attended as well, some bringing their entire families. I wish I could have brought my sweet wife and children, but we couldn’t afford it, having recently spent all our frequent-flyer miles (and then some).
Uncle David always seems to have great stories involving strange hand motions.
The memorial service focused on the difference Grandma’s faith had made over the course of her life; I was particularly touched by letters from some of the six foster children that Grandma had helped to raise, after her older four kids were out of the house. I was challenged with the hope that I might finish as well as my Grandma did, who loved the Lord with all her heart, from the day she trusted Jesus until the day she died.
Cousin Jon amazed us all with his tricks with cutlery and witty banter.
The graveside service was brief, and we all returned to the church for a fellowship meal. As friends and acquaintances from Grandma’s church drifted homeward, and the family was left more or less alone, the atmosphere quickly turned festive. Our family doesn’t get many chances to assemble together, and we were eager to catch up on news and retell old jokes. As I circulated from table to table, I was struck by the legacy that my Grandma leaves behind – a whole family that loves Jesus – three surviving sons (two daughters already with Jesus), thirteen grandchildren, 29 great-grandchildren and a great-great-grandson! All of these hearts and souls and more were changed forever because Grandma said ‘Yes’ to the Lord when she was 17 years old, and because she said ‘Yes’ to Grandpa’s proposal of marriage when she was 22. I tremble even now as I think of the long-term ripples from the choices I make so blithely (even insouciantly?) today.
Cousin DJ’s family sure has grown up fast!
Toward the end of the evening, my cousin Kevin pointed out that we (as a whole family) are unlikely to assemble together again, unless we take specific steps to make it happen. We are spread all over the map and we don’t stay in touch as well as we would like. I mentioned this to my Dad, who suggested a family reunion out in Washington once the Retreat Center is built. The idea was well-received, but I think it will still take some pushing to make it happen. A large part of the family is still in Pennsylvania, and airfare isn’t cheap, these days.
My uncle Steve and his bride, who faithfully and sacrificially cared for Grandma in these last years of her life.
As we laughed and joked together so naturally, I felt profoundly thankful for the blessing that God has given to me by putting me in this family. It is very good to be reminded that I am rooted in a lineage that has been loving God for at least four or five generations, and that I can count on His love for myself and for my family.
Know therefore that the LORD your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commands. (Deuteronomy 7:9)
Grandpa preceded Grandma in death by 13 years; what fun it must be for him to show her around Heaven!
Only 995 generations to go … I can hardly wait to see what God continues to do in our family, as we say ‘Yes’ to our King!
A small part of the whole family at the graveside service
Some people go away on vacation and come home to find their home has been vandalized, robbed, or even destroyed. Those people have it easy.
We returned home from the airport and piled the suitcases by the front door, children staggering sleepily up the stairs or sitting dazed on the bottom step, until a passing Daddy can carry them off to bed. We started the standard triage process on the accumulated mail, and then discovered we were the victims of a heinous anti-crime.
Thirteen checked pieces plus eight carry-on bags makes quite a pile for tomorrow!
Anti-crime has never really caught on. I first read about it in a Terry Pratchett book, or perhaps it was Douglas Adams — whoever it was, he gave a few examples:
Apparently the point of anti-crime is not just that a good deed be done, but rather that it be done in a way to produce maximum outrage or humiliation in the heart of the victim.
In any case, the ‘criminals’ used a variant of ‘breaking and decorating’ on us, and replaced our old, unattractive and barely-operable sinks with new, shiny sinks and faucets, leaving their jeering placards behind as evidence. As soon as we find out who it was, we’ll retaliate in kind, perhaps whitemailing them mercilessly …
Kathy has long wanted a better faucet, especially since our old one had been making ominous screeching noises when we turned it on and off.
In any case, it is good to be home.
Even the little red bathroom was not deemed sacrosanct. You can imagine our outrage!
Tim (Kathy was too tired to write, and is, even now, nearly asleep in Cream Puff)
Project 365, Day 184
Tomorrow is the last day of the epic Michigan Vacation of ‘07, which is very sad. Kathy showed me a few photos of today’s excursion to the pool … as you can see, they are holding up well in the midst of their sorrow.
David loses a game of ‘Sharks and Minnows’
It will be good to have everyone safely home, assuming that the snafu with seating assignments on the flight home is resolved. If not, some members of the family may become more intimate with the Cincinnati airport than they prefer.
Sarah finds a kindred spirit
It is always nice to be reminded of the many friends we have left scattered around the country as we have moved from place to place. Over the course of this vacation, Kathy and the kids had the opportunity to visit with four families: Russ and Nancy (three boys, two girls), Amy and Bill (two boys, two girls), Bruce and Laura (three girls) and Dave and Jen (two boys and a girl). It has been fun to stay in touch with each of them, off and on, over the years.
Daniel plays Settlers of Catan with a worthy opponent
What a delightful treat to fellowship with old friends and their growing families! Even so, several old friends were out of town or otherwise busy; it is often hard to make time for friends without neglecting family.
Dave and Jen haven’t aged a bit in the seven years since we saw them last!
David was a little too wiggly for precision roasting, anyway.
David apparently convinced the older boys that he was a marshmallow in urgent need of roasting, but this innocent misunderstanding was eventually cleared up. It reminds me of the two main schools of marshmallow-roasting thought, which are as follows:
This philosophical position requires the patience of Job, as the marshmallow is gently toasted, evenly on all sides, rotated high above the coals. Some maintain that this is the only proper way to eat a marshmallow, and that it results in a uniformly warm interior, melting the chocolate in a s’more with great efficiency. Golden-brown roasters view disciples of the opposing school of thought as barbarians, and will snootily discard a marshmallow with even the slightest evidence of charring.
A system of thought firmly held by many young boys, this roasting method involves plunging the marshmallow into the hottest part of the fire as quickly as possible, and then waving it about wildly to extinguish the flames. Adherents of this school hold that a marshmallow without a thick carbonized shell is no marshmallow at all, and that golden-brown toasting is for sissies.
Sarah enjoys her Grandad
A little-known advantage of being a pastor’s kid is found in some rather surprising perquisites. One hot day after they returned from upstate Michigan, Kathy’s Dad made a phone call:
Kathy’s Dad: “Hello, Del? How are you doing? Good, glad to hear it. Say, I was thinking of making a pastoral call on your pool today, and I wondered if that would be convenient?”
Rachel and Sarah recover from the water-park
As the son of an Army Chaplain, I thought I’d heard all the ecclesiastic angles, but this was a new one for me. Apparently Kathy’s Dad felt that calling it ‘baptism research’ was a little too deceptive, but it worked like a charm, and the whole family was invited over for a pool party. I guess being a pastor isn’t all late night hospital visits and last-resort marital counseling.
David takes the plunge
Tomorrow my family will say their goodbyes and head for home, glad to have enjoyed such a fun vacation and sorry to leave. Hopefully we can persuade Mamie and Grandad to come and visit us soon.
Thank you, Mamie and Grandad, for your kindness to our family!
Project 365, Day 183
