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