Wednesday, January 20, 2016

You're Gonna Miss This...

There's a well-know country song, sung by Trace Adkins, called, 'You're Gonna Miss This.'  

All four of our kids were home for their Christmas breaks recently. Our oldest, Braxton, is a teacher in St. Louis. His district was out for the holidays. Our three younger are still in Champaign completing their degrees. Blaize will soon be done with his Master's, while Brody and Bentley are working on their Bachelor's degrees. They had an even longer break than Braxton and were home for over a month. 

It's such a special time for us all. 

We reconnect as a family. 

We rekindle the closeness that we lose by living apart so many months of the year. 

It's a time I truly treasure. 

'You're Gonna Miss This.'

Our house comes to life with their arrival. It's a whirlwind from the second they come thru the door until they leave again.  Being empty-nesters for several years now, it's always a bit jarring when they come. 
 
I seem to forget how having six people in a house can be so different from having two. 

Lots of clothes lying around. 

The kitchen 'open' at all hours. 

My stove never clean. 

Running the dishwasher and doing the laundry on a daily basis. 

And the groceries we go through! How soon I forgot the sheer volume they eat. 

'You're Gonna Miss This.'

As the break wore on, I kept finding myself thinking of that song and some of the lyrics.

'You're gonna miss this. You're gonna want this back. You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast.'

Every parent feels it. We blink and our babies are grown. Our kids are adults and I miss the babies, the toddlers, and the young adults they once were. That won't change. 

'These are some good times, so take a good look around...you may not know it now...But, you're gonna miss this.'

For several years now, our kids friends from U of I come to stay with us over break. Tradition dictates they go to eat at Leo's Pizza and then come back for game night and an entire night of doing what kids in their 20's do. Blaring music. Games. Alcohol. Laughter. Inside jokes. Storytelling. Friendship. 

We love it.

Most years, we also have JHS alum and the token Routt alum, too. Old high school friends are always welcome, of course. 

'You're Gonna Miss This.'

This year, I realized that even though I had always thought of this song in terms of what I was missing because our kids were growing up, that this song applied to our kids and to their friends, as well. 

Blaize will graduate in May as will several of the kids who came to visit. Brody will graduate in December. Others will, too. 

Their lives are about to change. 

They will soon leave college behind and may end up in other parts of the country and won't be able to come see us during Christmas break again.

I snapped this picture as I was heading to bed that night. Amid all the laughter and smiles, I couldn't help but feel a tug at my heart. 

I knew what they would one day think as they looked back on this picture of that night. 

'You're Gonna Miss This.' 

To all these wonderful kids that Ed and I met by chance, I can't thank you enough for the joy you've brought to our kids and to us. 

Cherish these moments you have together this final semester...this final year. Your group will change as graduation comes and goes. 

'You're gonna want this back. You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast.' 

I pray you keep in touch with each other. You'll have other friends in your life, of course, and may not see each other as often.

But you'll never again have this group.

'These are some good times, so take a good look around...you may not know it now...But, you're gonna miss this.'

All the best to you. 

Don't forget Jacksonville and the Stewart family. 

I know you're forever etched in my memory. 

And I am certain...that I'm gonna miss this.

It is what it is. 

p




Tuesday, January 5, 2016

On The Right Track...

It took longer than I had imagined. 

I knew it would come when it was supposed to happen. I believe in that. I'm not always the most patient person, so the fact that it took almost two full years was sometimes frustrating. 

When you leave a job that you love, I think there's a mourning period. I didn't want to walk away. But certain issues are non-negotiable to me. So, I left. I've totally embraced the months I've had at home and I've never regretted the decision I made to leave.  

As I watch our four kids plan their lives and talk about their future careers, I am sure to tell them to find a job that they love. I can't think of anything better or more important to say. 

I've been fortunate to have jobs that I truly loved. I've worked with wonderful people who have become life-long friends. 

I've also had jobs which challenged me in some ways which weren't positive. I've worked with people who didn't become friends and I wouldn't necessarily want to see again. 

But, I'm grateful for each and every job thru the years. 

At this point in my life, I was looking for the job that didn't seem like a job. One that makes me want to get out of bed each morning. One that reignites the passion I have for working with kids. One that allows me to work with people I can admire and can call my friends. 

I want the perfect job. 

Several months ago, two of my husband's cousins came to our house and told me about a new daycare that they were opening with their friend. All three teachers in the Winchester school district, they had decided to leave the public school arena and go into business for themselves.

They asked me to be a teacher for them.

Not only would I be able to utilize my teaching degree, but I could work with two women who became family when I married my husband all those years ago. These cousins turned into my friends and I couldn't imagine a better atmosphere in which to work. 

I jumped at the chance. 

2016 brings not only a new year and a new business for Monica, Rachel, and Amy...but it brings a new chapter into my life, as well. 

The waiting is over. 

It took longer than I had imagined. 

But now I can say my life is On The Right Track.  

It is what it is. 




Tuesday, December 15, 2015

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. 


Wednesday, October 28, 2015

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


Tuesday, October 20, 2015

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

Monday, October 5, 2015

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








Sunday, September 6, 2015

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