You Should Be Here...

I'm a softie for sad songs on the radio. 

It's almost as if the artist is singing directly to me.

That's the beauty of music. 

It touches us all...it conjures up the memories of our lives and it brings those sometimes tucked-away feelings into the forefront. 

For the few minutes of that song, I'm taken back to the times I would do absolutely anything to recreate...if I could.

I heard a song by country artist Cole Swindell yesterday called, 'You Should Be Here.' It's one of the songs I'm talking about. I sat here, alone in my family room, and cried as I listened to words that brought lost loves to mind. 

The holidays are a wonderful, magical time. I still enjoy shopping for our kids even though they're all adults now. 

I still wrap their presents in four different kinds of paper, one for each, and count to make sure they all have the same amount to open. I know they will take turns, going from oldest to youngest, opening these presents on Christmas morning. We may not be awake at sunrise anymore, but the presents are opened like they were when the kids were growing up. 

Spill over from the way my Grandma and my Mom orchestrated Christmas morning. 

You should be here. 

My husband and I both turned 50 this year and that whole mortality monster started to rear it's ugly head. While we have been truly blessed with our children and the relationships we share with them, we are also keenly aware of how suddenly it all can change. I'm not ready for anything to change. I want to keep my family in a cocoon, all the while knowing reality doesn't allow this. 

I didn't picture losing my Grandma Daisy when I was 25. She was supposed to help me figure out how to be a wife and a first-time mom. She was not supposed to leave me. 

You should be here. 

Family's must restructure when we lose a member. No one wants to do this. But we must. 

The first Christmas after my mom died in 2002 was awful. Can't sugar coat and say it was fine or that it even remotely resembled what I knew the holidays could be. Grandma was gone. Mom was gone. I was the sole female left to lead the holiday. 

I didn't want the responsibility. Still don't. 

You should be here. 

I do my best. I carry on the traditions of the two females who made my childhood wonderful and magical this time of year. I hope our kids will find some of those same feelings and show their own children one day. 

While not a day goes by that I don't miss the family I've lost, holidays are definitely the hardest. I'm sure it's that way for everyone who is readjusting...trying to find a normal without someone they love near. I doubt it will ever feel normal again. 

You should be here. 

Merry Christmas to the ones who shaped my life and left too soon. I hope and pray you are still with us and that you truly do see everything that's going on. 

Even though that's a comfort, it still doesn't change the fact...

You should be here.  Standing with your arm around me here.

It is what it is. 

p 

Grandma's Ring...

You were one of the two women I have fiercely and completely loved in my life.

Who you were, how you treated your family, and the way you loved my grandpa are among some of the greatest memories I hold deep in my heart.

This would have been your 103rd birthday month. 

I had you as my grandma for 25 short years. 

You were the one I could tell anything to and you set standards for me which I am still trying to reach.

You saw me grow up.  You knew when I met Ed and watched as we dated and then got married.  You saw Braxton be born.

I had so much left to learn from you.  There was not enough time to learn how to be a good mother to my first child or how to be the best wife I could be.  You seemed to have it all figured out.  Granddaughters are supposed to learn from their grandmothers. 

But our life took a different path. 

Sometimes I feel cheated because you were taken so soon.  Sometimes I feel grateful I had you for as long as I did.  Sometimes our years together seem like only a distant memory. 

The last day we spoke, when you looked at me and told me I was a good mother to my 8 month old son, I felt a peace and a calm about the years ahead.  Your opinion mattered so much to me that I knew I could face the coming years without you because you had been here for the beginning...and had seen something in me I had not seen yet myself. 

I had always felt I was meant to be a mom.  I was meant to bring children into this world.  That was supposed to be my legacy.  You had given me the strength I needed to see that and fully commit. 

While I can't begin to count the times I still 'talk' to you, it's certainly not the same as having you here to answer me.  But, I'll take what I can get.  Somehow, you manage to do what you always did.  You give me that peace and that calm for the years ahead. 

Do you know that I wear your wedding ring on my right hand?  I was telling Bentley today that this ring was on your finger for the 60 years of your marriage and until your death. 

Mom wore it after...until she joined you. 

Now, I wear this legacy of love. 

Beni already knows it's hers when I join you and Mom.  I have no doubt she will make sure it passes on to the next generation.

I haven't forgotten one single thing about you, Grandma, and I miss every single thing about you, too.

You're alive in the stories and memories.  You're alive in my children.  You would have loved them.

This ring is a symbol of you which I see and I feel each day. 

When I look down at my hand, I see the impact of my aging...yet I can remember when you wore this ring and held my much younger hand in yours.  Flashes of time.  Fleeting moments.  Unbreakable bonds.

Peace. 

Calm.

It is what it is.

p

There is no measure...

We've all lost someone in our lives. 

The measure of that loss varies. 

The older I become, the more I realize how short life is.  How little time we truly have to spend with those we care about...with those we love.

When we're gone, what will we leave behind?

Will those who remain know how we felt about them?

Today marks two years since our family lost our Uncle Roger.  It wasn't exactly sudden as he had been battling cancer for several months.  Yet, the end came quickly.  We expected to have more time.  Even being aware there was a possibility he wouldn't win his battle, we were shocked when Monica called us and said we needed to come to Springfield to the hospital.

We didn't make it. 

Roger passed away just as we got into town.  We didn't get a chance to have those last minutes or those final words. 

Our kids were all at school and we had to call them.  The boys were on campus, but I remember Bentley being at a sisterhood canoe trip with her sorority.  Phone service was spotty, at best, but I was able to call her, too.  It was a terrible call to make.  She felt so separated from us and helpless.

We all did.

When you walk into a hospital to see someone you love laying in a room, lifeless, it's hard to put into words.  The family was gathered in a separate room, down the hall from Roger's, and we were able to go in, privately, and see him.  I was so grateful we were given that chance.  It's surreal to try to sum up memories, thoughts, and feelings and put them in a few sentences in a setting of sadness.  It all seems so inadequate.  How could we possibly say what we needed to?  Verbalize what he means to us in such a short span?  Impossible.

My memory of that day fixates on one vision.  It was Brenda sitting by Roger's bedside.  She was holding his hand and just looking.  Looking into his face.  Not saying a word.  Slowly shaking her head from side to side.  What struck me was the love on her face.  The emotions played out in her expressions and there was a flurry of them...I could almost see the different feelings pass by.  I remember thinking that I was witnessing a beautiful love story coming to it's earthly end but felt, deep in my heart, that it was taking on another dimension and would continue on.  No doubt.  I saw the connection strengthen, if possible, and change course.  It wasn't an ending.  It was a beginning.  These two souls are forever joined, even in his death. 

My husband comes from a large family.  Roger was one of his uncle's.  While we had always been close with Roger, Brenda, Monica, and Rachel...we became even closer as our own children grew.  They loved our four and would come to watch them in their different sporting events at JHS.  At one of Brody's wrestling matches, I remember someone asking if they were his grandparents.  They certainly could have been, as they are far more than an Uncle and Aunt. 

If you were to ask our kids about Roger, they would tell you how funny he was.  How he liked to kid them that they got such good grades because of his tutoring.  They all took Spanish and he would joke that they did well because of his expertise.  It was one of those family jokes that never got old.  He taught the kids that ice cream is essential to a happy life.  He'd be happy to know they all still eat ice cream and talk about him.  That tradition remains and, I'm fairly certain, it always will.

Vacations spent with Roger are included in some of our greatest family memories.  We all were together this past summer, the first time without Roger there, and it was tough.  He was such a staple on vacations that you almost expected to hear him amongst the Stewart voices on the beach or see him loaded down with chairs and coolers while asking everyone if they needed anything.

The measure of loss varies.

For Roger's "girls," Brenda, Monica, and Rachel...I can't imagine what it feels like to live without him in their lives.  He left them a legacy of love and that is priceless.

For the rest of us, we cherish our memories.  But those tend to leave us wanting more.  So grateful for the chance to have had them...to make them...with Roger.  Yet, yearning for more time.  More years.

No, we didn't get those final moments to tell Roger how we felt.  But, I know that he knew.  Just as we all know how he felt about us.  How?  Because he lived his life showing us.  When he told us 'to call if we needed anything,' we knew he really meant it.  He would have done anything for those he loved. 

Roger wasn't here with us nearly long enough. 

The measure of loss varies.

When it comes to Roger, there is no measure.

It is what it is.

p

Off and Walking...

My first full committee meeting and monthly Village board meeting has passed. 

Since being appointed to fulfill the term of a trustee who resigned, I have completed my co-chairmanship on the South Jacksonville Celebration and the Concert in the Cornfield.  We still have finances to go-over, comparisons to previous events to draw, etc., so I'm not actually done...but the bulk of the volunteer time is over and the hours become much more manageable now as we prepare our report.

Following the Concert, I was sworn in during a special meeting which was called specifically for that purpose.

That was a Monday.  The same week, on Thursday, I underwent an arthroscopic knee surgery to repair ACL, meniscus, cartilage, and patella issues incurred over 15 years ago with a mother's volleyball injury.  Go South Elementary Vikings!

A week from my surgery, I was back in Village Hall for my first meetings.  I was grateful to be able to 'walk in' without crutches and feeling like I was on my way to recovery.

It's been a time of trying to get-up-to-speed on the many issues facing the Village; both past and present. 

Investigate.

Involve.

Engage.

Listen.

Share.

Analyze.

It's been a speed course of Cliff Notes! 

Getting bits of information here and more from there.

Talking to people from different sides of issues to get pieces of the puzzle.

Attempting to fit the puzzle pieces together.

Sitting in the audience and hearing so many points on various topics these past several months, I thought I would have a basic working knowledge when I became a trustee.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

Until you are a trustee, you have no idea the items you face which you cannot share, and should not share because of confidentiality.  Items that the public doesn't know when they form an opinion of your votes, your demeanor in meetings, your stance, overall. 

I am a strong proponent of transparency in governmental actions.  Always have been.  Finding how to navigate the fine line between what the public has a right to know and what has to remain confidential because of legality, well, that's the struggle.  That's the teeter-totter of being in this position, in my opinion. 

I find it's much easier to sit in the audience or to stand and speak your thoughts at the podium then it is to be on the other side.  That became apparent to me after one meeting.  When a resident comes to a meeting or feels moved enough to speak and address the board, it's because they feel strongly enough about a topic (or topics) to take the opportunity to be heard; whether simply by mere their presence or by their spoken words. 

On the other side, however, we need to take those acts into account, as well as all other opinions, facts, research, etc. that impact a topic.  While individuals feel strongly about topics which directly impact them, as they should, a trustee can't do that and be doing their job well.  Individual residents have their own perception, which is their reality.  Trustees must take all of those individual perceptions and treat them respectfully and thoughtfully as they move ahead with what's best for the Village as a whole.

That is the challenge. 

While I can't promise I will always make the decisions that everyone wants me to make, I can promise my decisions will be my decisions, made after careful and lengthy self-deliberation, and they will be made in the best interest of the Village.

With that, I'm off...and walking.

It is what it is.

p

Thoughts, questions, comments about the Village?  Please email: pbstewart2017@gmail.com

The Door Finally Opened. I'm Walking Through...

By this time next week, it will be over. Yet, only truly beginning. 

About 6 weeks ago, I took on a volunteer opportunity for the Village of South Jacksonville. 

As a Village resident, I've tried to be a part of the community since we moved here decades ago.  First, through our kid's elementary school as a member of the Parent Teacher Organization (PTO) and second, through the Village as part of the annual South Jacksonville Celebration, then held at Dewey Park.  Over the years, I left my volunteer positions and passed them on to others willing to give back.  So many wonderful volunteers have been integral to successful endeavors and I am proud to have been one of the group. 

Fast-forward to 6 weeks ago at a Village Board meeting when a JHS high school classmate, Kevin Eckhoff, and I were appointed Co-Chairs of the 2015 South Jacksonville Celebration/Concert in the Cornfield. 

We've reached out to Village businesses as well as businesses in surrounding communities with incredible success.  The number of people wanting to show support has been more than we could have hoped for when we began.  Our appointment came in the middle of months of turmoil within the Village.  You never know how you will be received when you take on an event amidst controversial circumstances. 

It's been a true blessing. 

After several years working as a Program Director in the non-profit arena, I left that position.  It's been over a year since I have been in the professional world, per-say.

I've laid-low. 

Recharging and reenergizing. 

I've truly enjoyed my time back at home.  Sometimes, we need to refocus our priorities.  I've been fortunate to be able to do that.  I've been looking for ways to positively give-back in venues I believe in.  Those don't come along every day.

People say God has a plan.  There are days it's hard to believe in that.  I'm not a patient person, by nature.  I'm not very good at waiting. 

But, it was worth the wait.

Doors open where you least expect them. 

Doors open where they should.  When they should.  You have no control. That's a fact of which I am now certain. 

Several months ago, I started attending Village Board meetings.  I hadn't been to one since the late 1980's or early 1990's when I was a news reporter for WJIL/WJVO Radio.  One of my responsibilities was to cover those meetings. No one else attended, back then, except the board and reporters.  It was a very quiet time in South Jacksonville.  It's a much different story today.

I started going back because of what I had been reading and hearing in the news.  I felt it was my duty as a resident to educate myself on what was actually happening

Little did I know my 'door' was about to open.

Volunteering for the Celebration/Concert was exactly what I needed.  It made me remember why I used to volunteer.  It gives me an adrenaline that feeds my soul. 

I'm an organizer.   I'm a problem-solver.  Could be the mom in me.  Whatever it is, I thrive in these types of situations. 

I hesitated for awhile when I was asked to do this, my husband hesitated a bit longer.  He's a pragmatist and looks at both positives and negatives.  But, he knows how much these efforts mean to me so I knew he would support whatever I decided to do.

The door opened.

I walked through.

As I immersed myself in this...

Another door opened.

I was appointed as a Village Trustee. I'll be sworn in the Monday after the Celebration/Concert in a special meeting.

Two doors?

Incredible. 

Unexpected.

I'm walking through...humbly, with the highest of hopes and the deepest of gratitude for the opportunities ahead.

It is what it is.

p

Positivity Out of the Pain...

Yesterday was the 2nd Annual Leo Alfano & Morgan McKinnon All-Vehicle Memorial Independent Run.  We went to the Triangle Bar in Woodson, Two Dogs Saloon in Roodhouse, It's Charlie's in Winchester and Evandy's Boatel in Naples. 

It's a run, which was created by Leo's family, to honor both him and his girlfriend, Morgan.  We lost them on July 18, 2013 to a motorcycle accident.

We've passed the two-year mark of that night.  All of those who loved them are at different stages with our grief. 

One thing that is the same, though, and it's the way we embrace the positivity the Alfano's & McKinnon's continue to show in the aftermath of the night that forever changed their families.

For the second year, I helped with the registration with Sherry Blair.  Each with our own connections to the Alfano's, we feel honored and grateful to be able to volunteer for this special day.  As we greeted and welcomed all the participants, some returning and some there for the first time, we remarked to each other how positive the atmosphere was.  It's really hard to put into words.

A day that can't help but remind me of the loss I feel, is also a day that I have come to look so forward to...it's truly the definition of bittersweet.

It's a day I find myself both laughing and crying.  One emotional extreme to another. Despite that roller-coaster, I wouldn't miss it for anything. 

I watched my friend, Tonia, talking and hugging so many, if not all, of those in the crowd during the day. She seemed to know everyone.  So much like Leo.  He was his mother's son, for sure. And I could almost imagine him in the midst of it.  It was a day he would have LOVED...being with his family and friends...around motorcycles...many of his favorite things in one place.

I was one of seven women riding in Tonia's SUV, from bar to bar, enjoying the conversation and laughter immensely.  It was what we all needed.  Some of these women I knew before but some I met after.  I feel so fortunate that our paths have crossed.  Each time I am with them, I feel healing.  I feel acceptance.  I feel friendship.  It's easy to be together and I am so grateful for what they bring to my life.

From my seat in the middle of the SUV, I had a clear view of Leo's picture on Tonia's dash.  That beautiful smiling face staring back at me and touching my heart.  It wasn't a sadness I felt, but rather a peace that he was with us...and that he was incredibly proud...of his mom...of his family...of Morgan's family...for creating a day so many could enjoy.  He would have approved, no doubt.

Positivity out of the pain.

A fundraiser to benefit ABATE.  A group which promotes motorcycle safety.

What a selfless gesture to help others even when your pain is unbearable. 

Life moves on and the days keep coming.  We, as participants, leave days like yesterday and go back to all that is familiar to us.  Go back to those we love.  Go back to routines.  Go back to life the way we know it. 

The Alfano's and McKinnon's left yesterday going back to their new reality, thrust upon them two years ago, without their children. 

I can't help but watch them, from the crowd, and marvel at their ability to show us all the benefit of being positive. 

I don't know if I could do it. 

Positivity out of the pain.

What have I learned?

Whatever you are facing, someone is always facing more.  Keeping that fact in perspective is what should propel you forward.  Take notice of how others handle their losses, their adversity, their challenges and follow their lead.  If they can remain positive, you can, too.

I can't thank these families enough for the generosity they show to those of us around them. 

As parents, we strive to be positive examples and role models to our children.  The Alfano's and the McKinnon's continue to show, not only their children but all of us, how living a life which makes positivity out of pain is the most selfless life one could ever hope to live.

Seeing Sam, with Filie on the back of his motorcycle, was the best sight I saw all day. Smiles on their faces. Leo in their hearts.

It is what it is.

p

Losing Leo...

It was a dream, wasn't it?

It's been nearly two years since that horrific night an accident took Leo Alfano and his girlfriend, Morgan McKinnon, from all of us who love them. 

But, it wasn't a dream.

It is our reality.

Time does not heal all wounds.

I don't care what people say.

Each day is a reminder of what was and what can never be again.

There's a slow acceptance of this new reality but there can never be healing. This kind of a loss leaves an open wound. As Tonia says, it's about making it through one moment at a time. If you make it through that moment, you move on to the next.  One small effort, again and again. 

I've felt loss before.  Unfortunately, many of us have.  I stood beside my mom as she suffered and fought pancreatic cancer, for a year and a half, before I lost her.  It was excruciating. 

But that pain and this pain are extremely different. 

When we lose a child we love, it's a pain I can't describe.  Yes, even more cutting than that of my beloved mom.  Because she had a chance to live.  Losing a young person is an abrupt end to what was ahead for them. 

They leave behind a life unlived. 

While Leo was not our child, I know my husband and I think of him as another son.  It's just the way it was.  Leo was always with Brody.  In and out of our house.  Brody at Leo's house.  Brody gone an entire weekend because he was at the Alfano's.  He spent more time at their house than he did ours during their high school years.  Who could blame him?  I would have rather been at the Alfano's house...it's a kid's dream!

The bond we had was so deep that even I didn't realize the extent of the connection until it was broken on July 18, 2013.

Remembering our daughter Bentley's anguished scream at our bedroom door as she told us the news...her voice had a tone I have never heard before.  It was raw emotion. I will never get it out of my mind.  I know she can't either.

Remembering Brody sitting on the stairs with his head in both hands, silent.  How can you possibly find the words at that moment?  We couldn't.  We just wanted to hug him and somehow help him with the one thing we could never fix.  It was the most useless I have ever felt as a mom. 

The days that followed were a blur.  Seeing Sam, Tonia, Pete and Filie for the first time after his death...crying, hugging, listening and loving.

Organizing the candlelight vigil, I was hoping for a good turn-out of all those close to Leo and Morgan.  Those who loved them.  Well, that happened.  The number of people who came, however, was more than we could have imagined. We couldn't see from our vantage point at the JSA fields, but we saw pictures after...and were told there were over a thousand people filling the length of a soccer field and beyond...there to show their love for the Alfano's and the McKinnon's in memory of Leo and Morgan.  I was awe-struck.  So much love for these two and their families.

The year of 'firsts' has passed and we have almost reached year two without them. 

Much has changed. 

Much is still the same.

They leave behind a life unlived.

For those of us who remain and who mourn, we draw strength from them and the time they shared with us. 

The life they did have, was lived to the fullest...loved to the fullest. 

That's a lesson for all of us. 

No.  I won't 'get over it' because I know time isn't going to help what I feel.

But I am grateful and I am blessed I knew Leo and Morgan. 

Losing Leo...well, it changed my life. 

He lives inside my heart now.

Forever 19. 

Forever 'imperfectly' perfect in my mind. 

Forever missing him. 

Forever loving him.

When it's quiet, I can almost hear his voice again.  Almost. 

It is what it is.

p

Remembering Uncle Don...

My husband's family is huge. Mainly because his grandparents, Bill & Ruby Farmer Stewart, had 10 children.  Even though one son died in infancy, their other 9 children went on to grow, marry and start families of their own.  Their children did the same, of course...and so on.  You can imagine how quickly the family multiplied.  The fact his Grandma Ruby also came from a good sized family, there are oodles of extended family, as well.   His Grandpa Bill's twin brother added to the mix, too.

I met my husband in 7th grade and, although he says he didn't like me very much then, we started dating in 8th or 9th grade and have been together (except for a few high school hiccups) since then.  So, being thrown into this enormous family started for me when I was 13 or so.  I remember going into his Grandparent's house, for the first time, on a Sunday when everyone would come over for Ruby's famous fried chicken.  Conversation stopped when we came in because they had to find out who Janet's boy, Eddie, was bringing to dinner. 

I was terrified. 

But, like all the others who came before me...and the ones who have come after...we made it.  Once the initial introductions were made, we were accepted and treated as family. 

Sundays were filled with noontime dinners at Bill and Ruby's that included all the aunts and uncles with nieces and nephews in tow. 

These people allowed me into their world.  I could see the love they had for my husband and that meant the world to me because I knew what they all meant to him.

I met Ed's Uncle Don along with the rest.  He was married to my mother-in law's sister, Esta.  He was the funny one.  The one who made an effort to make me feel comfortable.  I could tell he had an incredible love for his wife and his son, Donnie, and daughter, Kathy.  My husband had a special attachment to these four because when his mom would go to work, they would babysit him and, as he grew, he would go everywhere they went. Without a doubt, they truly are his family.  He considers Donnie and Kathy his brother and sister.  His Uncle Don and Aunt Esta are a second mom and dad.

Two years ago today, we lost Don after an illness. 

Our family light dimmed that day.

He brought so much love and caring into the fold that once he was gone there was a void that no one else can fill. 

Today I remember the man who loved my husband, unselfishly and as if he was his own, when he didn't have to do it. 

Today I remember the man who showed me how to love your children and how 'doing anything for them' is just what we do as parents. No questions asked.

Today I remember the man who loved only one woman and was never afraid to show it. 

Yes, he was only my uncle by marriage.  But, I consider him my uncle, too.  He was certainly there for me and I know he felt that way about all of us who are the 'outlaws' in the family

When we get together now, there's no more storytelling from Don.  No more laughing at him and with him.  No more watching him dance until he dropped at weddings, etc.  No more incessant talking about the Cubs.  Oh, wait, I guess there is that because Donnie still talks about them!

The light he brought into the family is gone and we all see things in a much dimmer shade without him.  The family dynamic won't ever be the same without Don.

Words are never adequate for explaining a loss.  But when you lose a loved one, the fact everything changed with their death, says all you need to say about their importance and place within your life.

Today I remember Don Gillis.

It is what it is.

p

It took a Village...

It's a new régime in South Jacksonville. 
 

Resignations and a retirement have cleaned the slate of local officials with names appearing within an investigation conducted by the Illinois State Police.
 

We have a new acting-Village President, Steve Waltrip, along with the remaining five trustees.
 

I've attended several of the meetings these past months.
 

I've sat.
 

I've listened.
 

I've been shocked by some of what I've heard.  I've been appalled by others.

But, as I see it, this is a new beginning.  A fresh start.
 

The list of items the Village President and trustees face is immense. I would imagine there are numerous housecleaning issues to attend to even before the actual governmental work begins. This is what we would all expect to go through when starting a new position.
 

Any time you have a complete changing of the guard, there has to be an element of starting from scratch.  Even assuming the now-exited officials left everything in perfect working order and ready to go, and I think it's safe to say that probably isn't the case, there would still be a learning curve.
 

Those of us in the community, who have watched this play out, are still where we were when it all began.
 

In the audience.
 

Watching and critiquing.  And, yes, criticizing.
 

The remaining officials, however, are in the midst of the massive fall-out from the actions of their former peers.
 

As we approach Thursday nights' regularly-scheduled Village Board meeting, let's keep in mind that the mountain of work before the Board is weighing heavily on their minds. 

I will, gladly, give them a chance to breathe.
 

I have become used to, and admittedly sometimes immune to, the speakers who have repeatedly asked for the now resigned/retired officials to step-down due to alleged wrong-doing. The ethics commissions findings have elevated that to the next level and it is in the proper hands now. We can get on with the business of the Village while another entity sorts that out. The tenacity of residents paid off. Finally. Bravo!
 

That's exactly what we wanted, right?
 

So, I would expect Thursday's meeting to be a normal Village Board meeting with no uproars.  No challenges.
 

It took a Village to accomplish what has been done so far.
 

We need to let the Board do their job now.  It may not be as quickly as we'd like in some instances, but they deserve some leeway here.
 

It's been truly incredible to see the outpouring of support from Village residents wanting to do the right thing. Goals have been accomplished.

Now, let's give our new President and the Board a chance to show what they want for our Village. A chance to prove themselves to us without attacking them for issues which were, in many cases, beyond their control.
 

Input is worthwhile.
 

Input is essential.
 

Input has its place.
 

There is something to be said for knowing when to step back and knowing when to give some space.
 

It took a Village.
 

We now have a voice.
 

Voices can sometimes be silent until there's a need to be heard.
 

It is what it is.
 

p

 

Proud day to be American...Incredible day to be a parent...

It's a proud day to be an American.

It's an incredible day to be a parent.

I woke up this morning to the news the U.S. Supreme Court has found a constitutional right to same-sex marriage, striking down bans in 14 states and handing a historic victory to the gay rights movement that would have been unthinkable just 10 years ago. The 5-4 majority ruled that preventing same-sex people from marrying violated their constitutional right to due process under the 14th Amendment and that the states were unable to put forth a compelling reason to withhold that right from people.

As an American, I am appalled we even had to talk about this issue. No one should ever be denied ANYTHING that everyone else is entitled to have. Period. This is America. 

Reading posts and comments regarding religion, in terms of this issue, I think of how I am given a right to choose the religion I practice. I don't practice all religions. I got to choose my faith. 

Because I have that right as an American.
 

Those who hide behind religion as a way to judge others' lives baffle me. 

I'm not an expert on religion by any means, but I do feel it's a peaceful existence which promotes love and acceptance and never accepts exclusion or prejudice. 

I choose marriage between a man and a woman. I had that right. I fell in love with a man and we got married. I can't imagine how we would have felt if someone had told us 'we weren't allowed to be in love and to marry.'

Today is an incredible day to be a parent.

While I have lived my life as one of acceptance and open-mindedness, my interest in seeing all Americans with the same rights has definitely become heightened within the past year. 

One of our sons shared with us that he is bisexual. Since telling all of us, he is the happiest I have ever seen him. He can be who is he...just like we can be...each and every day. That is his right just as it is ours. No difference. 

As a parent, my perspective on this issue is one that is now based on the pure and incredible love a mom feels for her children. 

Perhaps those who see 'equal rights for all' as something they have a right to 'limit' if they don't agree with the way a person lives their life or whom they choose to love...should be a parent. 

As a parent, I would like to think the most important thing is that our children are happy. 

 

My son's happiness is his right. 

Whether or not he chooses to marry should be up to him. Just as it is up to our other three children. It should be their right as Americans. 

Today's ruling means all four of my children have the same and equal rights as citizens of the United States. It's truly an historic day. 

I am tearful and emotional as I write this. 

It's a proud day to be an American. 

It's an incredible day to be a parent. 

It is what it is. 

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Soccer Mom Proud

Soccer moms get a bad wrap. 

When you hear that description of a group of mothers, you may cringe while picturing a group of women, along a soccer field sideline, probably yelling and screaming.  Loudly.  You may imagine them wearing team spirit-wear (sometimes bedazzled or custom made) and maybe even sporting their son's number or name.  There's no doubt they are there for their son and to support his team.  Admittedly, soccer moms can be a bit much.  I understand the stereotype, I really do. 

But, there's so much more to being a soccer mom...

I remember being excited to become a part of this 'group' when our son, Brody, started playing in high school.  But long before he played at the IHSA level, all four of our kids played youth soccer.  They all began at age 5 and we spent countless nights at practices and just as many weekends at games.  It's a time I would gladly go through again.  It was wonderful.  So many memories and lifelong friendships began in those years not only for our kids but for us, as well.

All the kids 'traveled' with soccer teams as they grew up.  Again, lots of weekends at tournaments.  These weekends became our vacations because of the cost of traveling, hotels and food costs multiplied by four kids.  But it was money well spent.  It afforded them so many opportunities in not only the sport but in the development of their young psyches, as well.  I am a firm believer in the power of sports for kids growth and maturity. 

As our older two boys entered high school, they played football and left soccer behind.  Brody was definitely a soccer player.  And I have to say that his group of boys was a special one.  While we enjoyed watching all of our kids, Brody's group was one that stays close to my heart.

Known as the "Spitfire" while they were young, this group of boys became so bonded and connected that they will always be friends...no matter what happens in the future.  They were able to be silly little boys together who have grown into amazing young men.  What a true gift.

Through our sons, our group of soccer moms became so much more than those faces on the sideline.  We, too, were able to be silly together on our countless weekends away.  Planning where we would eat, and drink, made the trips enjoyable for all the adults.  Oh, the stories we have about those weekends!

When the boys got to high school, we became even closer because of the parent group, concession stand, and other parts of being a soccer mom.  We saw each other as much as our family.  We started to become family.

I remember feeling an incredible sense of loss when the boys lost their last game of the season in Chatham.  It couldn't be over.  But it was.  As much as I hurt for Brody and the boys, I didn't realize at that time how much I would miss what I had gained through these years...I would miss these crazy, committed women.

Fast forward three years. 

Last night, I went to dinner with this group.  I've seen many of them over the years, but usually in smaller groups and not specifically our soccer moms, as a whole. 

Wow.

I had no idea how much I needed to see them. 

Time went right back to the comfortable feeling of spending time with those you have a history with...those who know your children...those who have children you know...those who share your memories, your laughter, your tears.   

Our son's have all gone on to follow their own paths and are busy growing up.  They will all be the young men we knew they would.  They share a bond with the Spitfire that will never end.  And while we also share the heartache of the loss of one of our 'sons' at the young age of 19, Leo Alfano will always be the heart and soul of our group.  He's now the guardian angel of our boys and watches over us all, I have no doubt.  Forever Spitfire. 

After last night, I realized I will always share a bond with these women.  We've shared the sidelines together...and now, I can see us sharing many years to come together, as well. 

Thank God for them in my life.

Thank God for soccer moms. 

I am soccer mom PROUD. 

It is what it is. 

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Mammogram...Finally.

The letter came in the mail yesterday. 

I was by myself when I opened it and I have to say I was terrified.

Incredible how simple words written on a page can have such a powerful impact.

At the end of last year, I had a routine physical and talked to my doctor about having a mammogram.  I am older than the recommended age to begin these as I'll be turning 50 near the end of the year.  I really don't know why I hadn't gotten one before.  Perhaps part of me couldn't bring myself to do it.  I have normal aches and pains but have always been relatively healthy.  I had four pregnancies and four live births.  I breastfed all four.  I had always heard that was a positive as far as breast cancer goes.  So, I put off the mammogram. 

As I get older, I realize that my health is not only about me...it's about my family, as well.  I have a responsibility to them to take care of myself.  Ed and I are well into the empty nest stage of our lives and, even though the kids don't live with us full-time anymore, we look forward to the next phase for our family. 

Last year, we had a scare with Ed's health.  It jarred us all as we understood that things can change in an instant.  Luckily, he is fine now and is working toward becoming healthier for all of us, as well. 

I have no doubt my hesitation to seek any sort of medical testing has to do with my mom and my two grandma's.  They each died from cancer.  Mom had pancreatic; her mom had ovarian; and my other grandma had leukemia.  That, in itself, is scary for me as the next female in line.  But, deep down, I know that early detection of any cancer is the best chance for remission/survival.  It's just that I am inwardly afraid of hearing that word in association with me.  I've heard it too many times with loved ones.

I left that routine physical clutching an order for a mammogram.  I didn't call to schedule the appointment until after I woke up one morning from a disturbingly vivid dream.  This was months later.  The dream was so frightening that I called first thing in the morning.  Perhaps someone was telling me to just get the mammogram DONE!

I went this past Saturday to Passavant and had the best experience.  Not sure what I was expecting, but the woman who did my mammogram explained everything so well and put my mind at ease.  She definitely is in the right career.  I felt fortunate to have gone through my first mammogram with her.

My letter began:  "The above breast examination did not show any sign of cancer.  A return screening in one year is recommended."

I am now one of the millions who get mammograms. 

I am one of the lucky ones.  One year at a time.

It is what it is.

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My Mother's Day Looks Different Now...

It's been nearly 13 years since I have shared a Mother's Day with my mom.

When I allow myself to truly think about that, I am overcome with emotions.  Sometimes it's sorrow which, in turn, brings tears.  Sometimes it's disbelief that she's really gone, which brings tears, too.  Even after all these years, I instantly feel the tears when I think of her and I don't feel like I will ever get past this point.

I've come to realize that my grief is a lifelong process and I've come to terms with that.  I've come to terms with the fact that I will never 'get over' her death;  that I will never forget holding her hand as she took her last breath; and that I will never stop struggling to find a way to live without her.

I remember that final Mother's Day as being so important.  We knew it was her last one.  She had been on hospice care and was in and out of consciousness.  She had a day or two of perfect clarity.  We were told this was normal toward the end.  One of those days happened to be Mother's Day.  I'm not sure she understood the importance of that day.  I had prayed we'd have this last holiday together.  The ironic thing is that I honestly can't remember what we did or what we said that day.  It's a blur.  I just remember I needed that time with her, for some reason.

I do know this.  It was peaceful.  It was beautiful.  That's all that matters.

When Sunday comes, I will be blessed to have all four of my children home with me.  I try to focus on the gifts I have been given and the ones I continue to receive.  My children each possess some of my mom's attributes.  She lives on in them and I only need to look into their faces to know she is still with us. 

I know I will have a wonderful day with family.  Ed and the kids go out of their way to make me feel loved.  But, yes, my mom will be on my mind and in my heart.  I know I will find a time to privately grieve for her in the midst of everything else that goes on that day.  It's what I do now.  It's my way to survive the day.  It's my reality now.

When Sunday comes, I will think of my friend, Sharon, who will be spending her first Mother's Day without her mom.  There are no words to prepare her for the emotions she'll feel and I ache for her.  But, she, too, has been blessed with a loving and supportive family.  She will find a way to survive the day.  She will find her new reality.

When Sunday comes, I will think of my friend, Tonia, who will be spending another Mother's Day without her mom and without one of her three children.  I can't say I know what she feels on this day.  While losing a parent is devastating, losing a child must be paralyzing.  She is one of the strongest women I know.  She has already found a way to survive her reality on a daily basis.  I think if I ever had a hero, it would be her.

Mother's Day looks different now. 

I'm not the same person I was at this time 13 years ago because my life is not the same. 

With each Mother's Day, I am slowly learning to live with it. 

It is what it is.

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A Place on the Family Picture Wall...

The place we spend the greatest amount of time is our home.  So many memories are held within these walls.

Within the past several years, many changes have taken place in our family.  Our journey, like that of many other families, has included multiple positive gifts while, unfortunately, dealing with devastatingly life altering blows, as well.

After a visit from our kids college friends over one Christmas break, I decided to rearrange our dining room.  This is the room everyone seems to gather when we are all together.  Our large dining room table allows for our 'Stewart Family Game Nights' to have several chairs packed around it and I wanted to make extra room for when we needed to add more people to the mix.  We can get kind of rowdy and need space when the nights get competitive. 

Our hutch moved from one wall to another and, as it did, I realized we had a generous wall that looked incredibly bare. I moved an antique picture of my husband's grandpa and his twin brother to the center of the wall.  I had my grandparent's wedding picture along with pictures of my great-grandparents, too.  They all seemed to belong together.  Our past relatives looking down on us.  Our kids joke that these pictures are 'creepy' because they are not pictures they are used to seeing.  My husband's grandpa and his twin are clothed in what looks like dresses as per the time period for infant photos.  My grandparents and great-grandparents aren't smiling in their photos.  We're talking about pictures that are over 100 years old.  Definitely a different time but so blessed to have those 'creepy' photos. 

Our oldest son, Braxton, said he thought we should make the wall an entire wall of family pictures.  I thought that was exactly what we should do!

I see designs of family picture walls online and in magazines from time to time.  Some are elaborate and artsy.  Beautiful reflections of the family they represent.

Ours is not orchestrated or designed. 

It just IS. 

It's ended up with my ancestors on one side of the wall and Ed's on the other.  The large picture of his grandpa and his twin is in the center of it all, as a focal point.

Bentley and I found the word FAMILY spelled out on individual wooden plaques at a local craft mall and she hung those all across the top of the photos along the wall. 

As time passes, I add more pictures.  We've been able to get pictures of several of Ed's aunts and uncles.  We have a few of his cousins, too.  We add a family picture from our family vacation each year.  Our kids hospital baby photos are up there among some of our favorites which mark some special time for us. 

When a new picture comes along, we always seem to find the perfect place.  We let the pictures dictate where they should be hung. 

The only other thing on that wall is an antique clock that belonged to my Grandpa and Grandma Belobrajdic.  It belongs there among the memories.

I have to admit we do have a few pictures of people that aren't related to us by blood but who are family, nonetheless.  After his death nearly two years ago, we added Leo Alfano to our wall.  One with him and my son, Brody, as little kids at Brody's birthday party one year; one with Ed and Leo after a soccer banquet (the only picture I have of just those two together); one with Tonia and me with Leo and Brody after their high school graduation; and finally, one of Tonia and Sam with Brody on his 20th birthday.  In fact, Filie was by one night and said, "I like how my family made your family picture wall...and I'm not in any!"  Guess we'll add Filie to the wall soon, too. 

Home is not only the place you spend the most time but it is the place you find comfort and warmth.  And love. 

Our family wall of pictures represents us...our past and our present. 

Time moves on.  Pictures give us that lasting grasp on what once was.  Our smiles frozen in time.  A moment forever saved by a camera.  We can look at them, again and again, and feel ourselves lost in the memories.

It is what it is.

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Be Grateful for People from Your Past...

I have been out at the hospital the last few days sitting with my mother-in-law and her 80 year old boyfriend following his surgery.  As my mother-in-law and I got into the elevator to ride down to eat breakfast yesterday, she pressed the wrong button and we went 'up' instead of 'down'. 

When the elevator doors opened, I came face to face with someone from my past.  This wasn't a person I particularly ever wished to see again in my lifetime.  It was a person who had made it her mission to do harm to me and a member of my family.  Seeing her, in this unexpected moment, I felt a flood of emotions come back.  They weren't good feelings, for sure.

She seemed as startled as I was but hesitated only a moment before she got on the elevator with her companion and rode down the three floors to the cafeteria.  Doors opened and we got out and went our separate ways.

Having plenty of time to reflect on that moment as I sat in the hospital room the remainder of the day, I realized how my initial reaction at seeing her began to change from those first feelings. 

When someone does us or a family member harm we naturally feel anger and hurt.  Our protective instincts come into play when our children are involved as mine did in this case.  I was much more concerned for my child than for myself at that time.  I also remember feeling surprise at the calculated and underhanded tactics this woman employed to reach her desired end result.

Though this all took place several years ago, I can honestly say I have never seen people act the way they did then and I hope I never do again.  I had no idea people could even be like that.  My eyes were definitely opened to the dark side of humanity when one has a personal agenda and you are in their way.  I was admittedly naïve. 

Waking up this morning, I knew I had moved past what happened so long ago because even though I could certainly do without ever seeing this woman again, I feel seeing her was supposed to be a gentle reminder.

I should be grateful.  And I truly am.  I am so grateful for what she instigated and orchestrated.  I am grateful for the few others who joined her ridiculous cause.  People who jump on a bandwagon because what you stand for stops them from achieving their personal desires are not worth my time.

Cheating the system and using connections in behind-the-scenes dealings, in order to accomplish something that would never be done in the open with accountability and transparency is never, nor will ever be, a part of who I am or what I stand for. 

Unfortunately, it wasn't about me.  People like this woman, who react how she did to my daughter and me, will repeat the behaviors on others, as well.  But her impact on me has long ended. 

I am forever grateful our lives crossed paths.

I know it was a life lesson.

It is what it is.

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A community coming together...

Tomorrow night, Village of South Jacksonville residents have the opportunity to attend a regularly-scheduled Board Meeting.  Unless you live under a rock, you've been seeing Facebook posts and news stories regarding the turmoil that surrounds our small community. 

I have been curious about the online petition that has been circulating on Change.org (which calls for the resignations of President Gordon Jumper, Police Chief Richard Evans and Treasurer Linda Douglass) and a new page on Facebook called My Social Jacksonville.

Today, I listened to "What's On Your Mind" on WLDS Radio and heard Colby Huff discuss his efforts and his reasoning behind creating both. 

Huff outlined the basics, in a bit more detail, and also discussed what he foresees happening at tomorrow's meeting. 

I listened. 

And I listened. 

I admit I felt somewhat uneasy because I don't know Mr. Huff.  I have no way of knowing if he has ulterior motives for leading this 'cause.' 

My apprehension started to ease when he said his reason for getting involved was because it was the right thing to do. 

I like that.

That's the bottom line. 

I've been hearing some residents haven't been signing the petition because they are afraid of retaliation or because they know one of the three individuals personally. 

I can understand that.

But, the real issue is what's right and what's wrong. 

If signing a public petition or speaking out makes someone uncomfortable, that's his choice, of course.  BUT, if residents support the effort to do the right thing, they still have an outlet.  They still have a chance for their anonymous voice to be heard and to be counted. 

VOTE. 

Vote on Tuesday in the Village Trustee race. 

Likewise, if the petition does not initiate Jumper, Evans and Douglass to resign their positions, then vote in two years time for a different Village President. 

Not all of us are interested in being a part of a movement no matter how much we agree with it. 

We all have a right to vote, however, and that makes us as much a part of the solution as if we were on the front lines leading the charge. 

I will be at the meeting tomorrow night.  I want to be as informed as possible.  I feel it's my duty as both a village resident and as a voter. 

By doing nothing, you can become part of the problem. 

It is what it is.

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Spring...the season of new beginnings and a fresh start.

Spring. 

Just saying the word brings to mind tiny blades of green grass poking through my brown lawn.

I am ready for the new life Spring brings and the beautiful colors that come with that. 

Trees will start budding and I can already see my tulip bulbs making their way up from beneath the cold, hard ground.

While Spring may not be my favorite season, weather-wise (I love Fall weather!), it is my favorite in terms of the way it brings forward new beginnings.

It's as if everything wakes up and starts anew.

Coming off the harsh weather of Winter, whether we know it or not, we long for what Spring brings. 

I always feel like Winter is the most trying time of the year.

I feel myself shutting down and begin to hibernate.  Spending any time outdoors is almost unbearable because of the freezing temperatures.  While I love being inside my cozy, comfortable home I still prefer the flexibility of enjoying our screened porch time, too.  Not being able to go in and out, equally, starts to have an impact on my psyche.

As the weather begins to change and nature comes to life, I feel myself doing the same.  I have already started a 'honey-do' list for Ed and I find myself watching the weather forecast each day to see if I can get outside to use the power washer or paint and stain. 

It dawned on me that Spring is not only about these new beginnings, it's about a fresh start, as well.

Fresh start to heal heartaches.

Fresh start to right a wrong.

Fresh start to share your heart.

Fresh start to laugh.

Fresh start to cry.

Fresh start to love.

Fresh start to embrace the season with renewed hope.

It is what it is.

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A Voters Duty...

I am making an exception.

I have mentioned before that I dislike talking about politics. But, in light of the events of this past week, I realized that my apathy toward this subject may be a part of the problem.  

Recently, the Illinois State Police came to our Village of South Jacksonville, Illinois to investigate top officials.  While our Village has a relatively small number of residents, we do elect a President and have the subsequent Police and Fire Chiefs as well as 6 trustee positions. Some of the positions are elected while some are appointed by the Village President.

I have heard rumblings that 'things were amiss' with some officials for awhile now, but I didn't pay too much attention to it. That was my mistake.  

Our local radio station, WLDS, airs "What's on Your Mind" and they featured the ISP investigation in two-parts.  I have attached the link here.  http://wlds.com/news/the-south-jacksonville-illinois-state-police-investigation-full-report-2/

From the comments and shares I saw on my Facebook feed, I can safely ascertain many people were as surprised as I was with the ISP findings.

Lines have been drawn, of course.  Some are calling for the resignation of one, if not all three, of the officials mentioned.

Perhaps the most surprising and mind boggling to me is the seemingly nonchalant attitude of our Village President toward these findings which have been alleged to occur under his watch.

In my opinion, whether or not he agrees or disagrees, he has a responsibility to the village residents who elected him.

There has been a call for an internal audit by one current village trustee.  It is my understanding that the President has declined to allow this.

Why would he not take the opportunity to open up Village Hall to prove to residents that there is nothing to hide?  Why all the secrecy?

Since this story broke, I've seen nothing from our President but dodging of questions and pat political responses.

As far as I am concerned, the buck stops with him.

I am dissatisfied with his lack of answers and his refusal to be forthcoming in the wake of these massive accusations of his top people.

I vote.

I have been wrong, however, in my naive assumption that those elected would have the best interests of the village and all village residents at heart when operating in the name of South Jacksonville.

I don't point fingers.  I don't follow rumors and untruths. However, when faced with so many inaccuracies and questions from our ISP, I have trouble reconciling the fact that 'just because the Attorney General declined to press charges' this somehow proves that what has allegedly happened is untrue and we should just forget and move on.

As a voter, I have realized I have a much bigger responsibility than merely casting my vote for a favored candidate.  While I won't be a watchdog, I should have been paying closer attention to what had been happening. Sometimes where there is smoke, there is fire.

In my humble opinion, as a typical resident of South Jacksonville, I am not satisfied with letting this all drop.  I am not satisfied with my Village President's comments and announcement that he sees this as a closed matter.

But what can one person do?  I can say that one person did make a difference and that is what spurs me forward.  I have to publicly thank our Village Clerk Dani Glascock for first bringing this information out in the open.  She showed a tremendous amount of courage by speaking up and doing what she could to right a wrong.  She has done her part. The ISP investigation would not have happened without her initial efforts.  We would have known none of what we have learned this past week.

While I don't pretend to know what the next steps are or how to go about them, I do know I feel like I haven't done my part as a voter or as a village resident.

Surely, I can't be alone in what I'm feeling.

It is what it is.

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Diversity has many faces...

Diversity. 

It's a powerful word.

Some who claim to support diversity, perhaps because it's seen as 'politically correct,' do so as they 'pick and choose' which parts they truly endorse. 

That's not the way it works.

Diversity, in its purest form, may make you uncomfortable. 

Yet, to be diverse, you must embrace diversity as a whole.  It's called acceptance.

On Facebook this morning, I saw this video.  It is so incredible I knew I needed to share it. 

It strips down what we see when we look at people.  Our ability to 'judge' them, visually, is gone.  And so we see people as what they truly are.

People. 

Just like us. 

Living their own lives. 

Loving that life.

Diversity.

It is what it is.

 

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Empty nest...

The house was full within a matter of minutes.  There were backpacks, bags and laundry baskets.  Suddenly, the house I had cleaned in preparation, showed the signs of our three children who had come from Champaign for the weekend.  An hour or so before, our oldest had come from St. Louis.  So all four are here.

When you become an empty nester you don't realize how drastically routines will change.  How quiet your once boisterous house will be.  How things will magically stay in the same place you left them.  How the laundry doesn't need to be done every single day.  How the grocery bill goes down.  How making meals for two, instead of six, will cause a lot of leftovers until you get the portions adjusted accordingly. 

But, mostly, how you will wonder how all those years flew by so fast.

I have been a stay at home mom and I have been a working mom.  While I enjoyed both, the constant in both scenarios was that all of our kids were home with us.  Schedules revolved around them and our days were incredibly busy.  Because we have multiple kids, when one went away to college, we still had three at home and so on.  Each was an adjustment but it was doable because we still had a semblance of our life as six remaining.

It's been nearly two years since our last child left for college.  Ed and I are almost acclimated to the change.   We have enjoyed getting to know each other again and have settled into our own routine.  But even though the kids don't live with us full time anymore, our life still centers around them.

We plan weekends to go visit them at school.  We plan ahead for Mom's weekend and Dad's weekend.  We look forward to Spring Break and other holidays.  I always find myself looking forward to those times when at least five of us can get together.  If Braxton can come from St. Louis, too, it makes it perfect.

Having the kids home this weekend takes me right back to the days they were growing up.  The glaring difference is that they are all adults now.  Being an empty nester means when the kids do come back, they aren't your little babies anymore. 

This has been the most challenging for me. 

Ed does a much better job with the fact the kids are adults and make many of their own choices, without us, now.  I am the Mom.  Maybe it's harder for me because I have trouble seeing them as adults and not as the people I carried under my heart, my babies. 

While we still discuss almost everything with our kids, I have come to realize I need to step back a bit.  I am free with my opinion and am not sure I will change that, but I am trying to respect their decisions if they go against my feelings.  We raised them to be responsible for their own choices and we need to trust in the type of people they are.  They need to learn some things on their own and have their own successes and failures. 

That's just life.  It's how adults interact.  It's a healthy part of any relationship. 

Being an empty nester will always make me a little melancholy because the kids will never be my babies again.  They will never rely completely on us.  On me.

But being an empty nester is also a wonderful title to have.  It means my relationships with my children are evolving and we each have to find the balance of love and respect as adults.

While I would make them all small again in a second, I embrace this empty nest.  I will continue to enjoy the chaos that comes when they are home.  It's familiar.  It brings back memories of the best of times.

I know there are many more to come because my babies are all extraordinary people.  I just need to go along for the ride and see where it takes me, where it takes our family of six adults.

It is what it is.

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Believing...

I've heard there are two things you should never talk about with people.  Politics and Religion. 

I'd have to say they are subjects I tend to avoid, if at all possible.  As for politics, I just find the whole subject extremely frustrating and I don't like the debate that comes when I express my opinion.  I have realized I don't feel passionate enough about politics to get into a heated conversation or to try and prove my point to someone I'm speaking with.  There are others much more well-versed than I who can take up that battle. 

Religion, for me, is a much more personal and private subject.  While I still don't openly discuss my beliefs to many, I have always felt a strong sense of spirituality.  I was raised a devout catholic and was taught the rituals of the church.  So, it's not unusual that I still find comfort in praying.  That I find a solace in conversations with God.  Or, that I feel peace when I pray. 

However, today I am not what I would call a devout catholic.  Although I am still a member, I don't regularly attend my church.  In fact, the last time I was there was for a funeral of a dear friend.  As the years have gone by, I have struggled with my place there.  I don't necessarily believe that I need to attend to be a good, godly, person.  I know the church, and many of my same religion, would disagree with my assessment.  So, I stay away and keep God in my heart.

Whatever we practice or don't practice, in terms of a religious belief, we still feel compassion, sympathy and, sometimes, empathy for those in our lives.

This morning, I said a silent pray for a friend of mine who mentioned on his twitter feed that he was going to the doctor today for a neck biopsy.  He has battled cancer in the past and has won.  To see he could be facing another trying time made me close my eyes and pray.  I noticed the hashtag on his twitter post was #heisincontrol.  My friend put his faith in God before and I know he will do so now.  I am always amazed at the power of prayer and the power of one's faith, the total surrender to spirituality.

The beauty of religion and a belief in a higher being is that we have something, bigger than ourselves, all around us.  I don't talk about my spirituality because, as I mentioned earlier, it's very personal to me.  It can make people uncomfortable and I would never want that.  I also just want to believe the way I want to believe.  Perhaps that's the reason I don't regularly attend a structured church setting.  While this works well for so many, it isn't what I need.  I would prefer not to be criticized for how I chose to believe.  I don't feel there is a right or wrong way, just a way. 

But, for my friend, I felt compelled to publicly say that I am in awe of his belief system and how it helped him and his family survive a difficult time.  His belief that #heisincontrol will give him everything he needs, when or if he finds out he is facing another battle.  It will help him continue to live his life.

We are all in this life together.  How we choose to navigate it is up to us.  Whether it is with a God or not.  I do believe there is good and evil.  I do believe there are daily struggles of many different varieties and severities. 

However you choose to combat them, is your journey.

As for me, I will continue to close my eyes and silently pray.  I may go into my church and light a candle when no one else is around.  I will pray for my loved ones and for my friends. 

That is how I find my hope.  My peace.  Isn't that what we should wish for everyone?

It is what it is.

p

Won't you be my neighbor?

When you buy your house and settle into a neighborhood, it's probably not because you know any of the people who already live there.  Instead, it could be because the house is located by the school you want your children to attend, it could be because it's close to relatives or to where you work, it could be close to where you grew up or it could be just because you fell in love with the house.  Chances are you did look at the neighborhood in terms of appearance.  We all want to live in a comfortable and aesthetically pleasing environment.   Once you move in, the surprising thing may be that you have moved into a place where you have a chance to meet neighbors who will make your house feel like a home. 

Before my family moved to Jacksonville in the middle 70's, we lived in a subdivision in Fenton, Missouri.  At that time, Fenton was no where near the size it is now.  We were the first subdivision that was built and it felt like the wilderness with all the trees and open, undeveloped, areas around us.  Our neighborhood was very close.  We were the pioneers of the area and bonded immediately.  So many of the families had kids our ages.  My parents were friends with my friends parents and we all spent a lot of time together.  We played baseball in the backyard of one of the houses down the street.  We rode our bikes in a small gang.  Outside until dark every day that we could.  What an idyllic childhood scene. 

I remember my parents walking from our house to other neighbor's houses (and vice versa) and grilling out dinner, swimming and spending time together.  They became really close with a family right across the street.  I became best friends with their daughter who was the same age as me.  The family was Italian and their house always smelled like spaghetti sauce.  In fact, that family is who gave my mom the recipe for sauce that our kids and I made this past Christmas.  Their family recipe became our family recipe.  It was that kind of relationship.  It was a magical time and our neighborhood allowed us many opportunities to meet people we wouldn't have had in our lives if not for that street.

Moving to Jacksonville opened up my world.  Instead of just riding my bike in the immediate neighborhood where our house was, we were encouraged to ride our bikes all over town.  Jacksonville is much smaller than Fenton and this lifestyle led to interacting with people outside my immediate neighborhood.  Instead of needing my mom to drive me where I had to go, I could ride my bike most places.  We lived by Duncan Park but some of my close friends lived in South Jacksonville, so I would ride my bike over there nearly every day in the summers.  I spent a lot of time at Nichols Park at the pool.  Lots of kids hung out there in those days. 

As an adult in Jacksonville, Ed and I have lived in a few different neighborhoods.  We actually bought our first house in Murrayville on Cottage Lane, a cute dead end street as you first come into town.  I met a woman, who became one of my best friends, because of that neighborhood.  While she was closer to my mom's age and she had sons' who Ed and I went to school with, Jan kind of 'adopted' our family and our kids from day one.  She was at our house when we brought Bentley home from the hospital after she was born.  She was at every family event.  She was a part of our family and we loved her.  She passed away a few months ago, but the memories we shared will always stay with us. 

Fast forward several years to where we have been for over a decade.  We live on a fairly busy street in South Jacksonville.  It's not a typical neighborhood and a bit more difficult to get to know who lives near.  Now, we knew one family when we moved in because we'd known them for years.  They live two doors down, on the same side of the street, and have a daughter who went to school with our oldest son.  Kind of like us, won't bother you but if you need anything we can count on each other.  I wouldn't hesitate to walk down and ask Maureen for help.  They are busy, cars in and out all the time, but I know they would never be too busy for us. 

We also know a couple of other families, who live across the street, from either their kids or from mutual friends.  Again, I know if we needed anything that they would be there for us.  I enjoy the times we catch each other in the yard or as we walk to the mailbox.  We get a few moments to catch up and I always walk back in the house feeling grateful we have such nice people living close by.

Perhaps the biggest surprise was finding that we had a true, old-fashioned, neighbor living near.  His house sits catty-corner from ours on the other side of the street.  If you've ever driven down South Diamond during the Christmas season, you've seen his house!  He is the one who decorates with lots of lights, yard decorations and love.  We watch the process begin well before Thanksgiving because it takes so many hours to get it just right.  In the beginning, we would just wave and yell a comment or two, across the street, when we would see him and his wife, Dawn, outside.  As time went on, Walter would occasionally come across and ask Ed what he was working on or just to talk.  This past Christmas, Ed put up a few more lights and Walter was thrilled to see lights on our side!  He even loaned us some stakes to hold the lights we had in the landscaping up a bit to keep them out of the snow.  We've woken up, after a large snowfall, to see that Walter has used his snow blower to clear our driveway.  He's saved the day when Braxton had a leak in a brake line, on a weekend, and we couldn't take it anywhere to have it repaired.  Walter showed Ed and Brax how to fix the line and Brax was able to head back to St. Louis at the end of the weekend, like usual.  When Braxton wanted to buy an artificial Christmas tree (that Walter and Dawn were selling) for his 4th grade classroom, they just donated it instead.  The list goes on.  Braxton has even commented how unusual it is to find someone who goes out of his way to help those who live around him. 

We wave at our neighbors.  We are grateful for the ones we know we can rely on in these busy times we live in.  But to find someone who truly enjoys being neighborly to all those around him, well, that's something special.  Now, I'm not going to go as far as calling Walter "Mr. Rogers" because he isn't quite the red cardigan sweater type, but he is the most welcoming person you'll find in this neighborhood.  We could all learn a lot from him. 

It is what it is.

p