Farewell, Thurman

Snow day for Thurman

On Saturday, August 13 we said farewell to our beloved family member, Thurman, our beautiful Golden Retriever.  He was almost 11 years old.  It was unexpected and we are heartbroken.  If you read this and you are a person who believes in prayer, please pray for our family's hearts.  A dog is an important member of a family, ours was no exception.  I wanted to write a short remembrance to Thurman. Writing is so therapeutic to me...I am hoping this helps me.

When Elliot was a young toddler he was a handful.  It's just this summer that he's become a pretty good sleeper.  Close to 13 years is a long time to wait for a kid to sleep well.  Elliot was rambunctious.  He stopped napping before he was 4 years old.  Most days Elliot was awake at 5 am...for the day.  When the head of this then stay-at-home-mom hit the pillow I was out like a light.  Elliot on the other hand would come into our room many times during the night to report to John and me.  He would tell us things like, "I'm hot. I'm thirsty. I had a bad dream."  He also would report less important details like, "Mommy, my sock came off," or even "I hear a whisper sound coming from my closet."  I recall many predawn mornings slugging down coffee.  In those foggy moments I vowed not have another child.  I did however have the opinion that Elliot needed a companion.  Perhaps the sleep deprivation led us to think getting a dog was a good idea.  

I had dreamed of having a Golden Retriever since I was a kid.  In my opinion, there isn't a breed that combines good looks and disposition into a dog better than Goldens.  We found a small breeder in Stafford.  Jan, the owner of Stormy Point Goldens, was kind and knew Goldens well.  We were able to meet the dog mom, Dixie, while she was expecting.  She was sweet and loving.  We visited the puppies when they were just a couple weeks old.  Jan allowed us to have "pick of the litter."  We took Elliot with us to choose our dog.  I'm not sure who had more fun, Elliot chasing the 10 puppies or the puppies chasing him.  Our puppy was playful and fuzzy.  We decided to call him Thurman.  The Thurman Cafe is a famous hole-in-the-wall burger joint in Columbus, Ohio.  Naming our dog after a cheeseburger was both cool and unconventional. We kissed Thurman goodbye and fastened on his little collar.  He licked us and nibbled us with his tiny puppy teeth.  We were in love.    

Thurman at 6 weeks old

Elliot at the breeder

The weeks of waiting went by quickly and soon we brought Thurman home.  He and Elliot were inseparable.  I however did not anticipate the energy level of a puppy added onto the energy level of a kid that was just shy of 2 years old.  Whew!  John and I quickly decided it would've been "easier" to have a baby than a puppy/toddler mix (enter Sydney--but that's writing for another day).  

After a short run

With persistent training and love, and age, Thurman grew into an amazing pet.  He became Elliot's roommate which lessened the amount Elliot reported to our room at night.  Thurman was patient, always full of energy, and the best listener I have ever known. The kids have used him as a headrest while watching movies, a brave knight, a secret keeper, a leftover eater, a shoulder to cry on, a protector of whisper sounds coming from the closet, a snowball catcher, and the best friend they could ever have had.  He was my running partner when I first started running.  When I thought I couldn't run a mile without walking, Thurman believed in me.  No one will believe in you like a dog.  

A birthday treat to celebrate double digits last year

Thurman was a good looking dude.  People would stop us on walks often to comment on how handsome he was.  Kids would rush from their yards to ask to pet him on our nightly walks in the neighborhood.  He loved kids.  He answered to many names other than Thurman.  Most widely used was his nickname, Dug.  We called him this because he so much reminded us of the dog, Dug, from the Disney movie "Up."  Thurman was just like Dug in that he immediately loved everyone.  We always joked that he would make a terrible guard dog.  Thurman loved, loved cats.  Lucky for him the cats we've had over the years loved him back. 

It wasn't unusual for the cats to lick and groom Thurman's head while he happily wagged his tail.  They all shared a water dish and he would even let the cats drink first.  

Thurman hated rainy days, never wanted a bath, and was nervously afraid of thunder storms.  We often wrapped him in a blanket and hugged him while he panted until the storm had passed.  His favorite phrase was "road trip."  Just the sight of a suitcase had him prancing around the car.  He LOVED traveling to Ohio. Taking walks on the sidewalks of Grandview was like hitting a slot machine jackpot to Thurman.  It's miles of new smells, trees, and fire hydrants.  

I think Thurman is resting his paws on Grandma Mary's lap (something he loved doing when John's mom was still living).  I think he will have days and days of snow days, his favorite kind of day.  I think he will have many cat friends and bowls of popcorn instead of just a few random pieces Sydney and I would share with him.  I picture him napping under a shady tree just like he did on our deck.  

Paws on Grandma Mary

This is going to hurt for a long time.  I would do it all again though.  Seeing my kids weeping over the loss of their pet is heartbreaking, but the memories we have with Thurman are some of my favorite memories I'll ever have.  

I read yesterday that dog spelled backwards is God.  I like that a little. It makes me think perhaps some of the best attributes of my higher power were what I saw in Thurman.  It is my hope and prayer that I can become as generous and loving as Thurman. 

To those of you who knew Thurman, know that he loved you.  Thank you for reading.  

A roadtrip

Homework helper

Guarding Cora the cat with love

Long walks at sunset

More snow days

Sharing secrets and game plans

When A Moment Changes Everything

My sweeties

On Thursday of last week I substitute taught in Sydney's 1st grade class.  1st graders are charismatic, eager to learn, full of wonder, and love, love, love to hug.  Sydney got up from her seat in regular intervals to hug me.  This insured many of her classmates followed her lead.  It made my heart full.  Little did I know how much I would still be thinking about those hugs today.

Friday I subbed for a teacher who splits his time between 4th and 5th graders.  He assists with instruction and has a small group of students who come to his room for support.  I liked it because it meant that I got to work in small groups, something I enjoy.  One of my duties to cover for this teacher was being present in the drop off line for parents who drive their kids to school.  I stood outside in the cold morning air, winter sun was shining through leafless trees.  I held onto my warm coffee mug and offered my "good morning" and "happy Friday" to the students as they got out of the cars in and walked into school.  I watched parents hug their kids over car seats and bulky winter coats.  I watched younger students turn to wave or give one last smile before darting off through the school doors.  I saw a few parents roll down the passenger window of the car to holler "I love you" or "have a good day."  I felt filled by this experience.  

I hadn't really thought of the drop off to school as personal, but it is.  It's in those tender moments that we, as parents, live out that remarkable quote, which President Obama so eloquently reminded us of when he spoke at a prayer vigil in Newtown on Sunday evening.  It was Elizabeth Stone who said, "Making the decision to have a child - it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."  We watch our children walk into school or board their school bus and part of us goes with them.  Part of ourselves is always with them.  It's the best parts. The parts that love and are filled with curiosity.

Near the end of the school day on Friday I had about 5 minutes to quickly check my email.  I read a short message from John alerting me that there had been a school shooting and not to turn on the TV in from of Elliot and Sydney.  John isn't always so direct, so I pulled up a news website and read the horrible headline. My heart sank and I logged off.  There is a song called "When A Moment Changes Everything" by David Gray that immediately flooded my thoughts.  How very, sadly, heartbreakingly true.  

Friday night we ordered pizza, ate together around our island in the kitchen.  We got some of the Christmas cookies out of the freezer and ate them.  I looked deeper into my kids' eyes.  I slowed down--a lot.  We sat all together on one couch and watched a silly movie.  John and I needed that.  And, our kids needed it.

My kids have no understanding of the horrible things some people are capable of.  For that, I am grateful.  I want to freeze time; make it stand still so that they never have to learn about this or other sadness.

As parents we feel this tragedy.  Our hearts break when we see the pictures of those adorable 1st graders.  This is an unimaginable tragedy.  I find myself just staring at Sydney.  But what do we do?  I can share what has bubbled to the surface of our hearts.  

A few months ago John began talking to me about adopting a mission statement for our family.  This statement would be visible when we enter our house and when guests are in our home.  We've kept the conversation open and I have been praying about it.  We agree on the foundation of what we want this statement to encompass.  Last night as Sydney and I were finishing up a craft I heard John writing on the chalkboard-pantry door.  I knew it was John because I heard Elliot ask, "what does that mean?"  John read the statement to Elliot.  Sydney ran out into the kitchen and read it herself.  I stayed in the craft room.  I closed my eyes and whispered "thank you."  

You see for me this was a moment when John was leading our family.  It was a moment when he solidified what our little family stands for.  It was a moment that will change everything.  The statement reads: We don't take the easy way out.

What the statement means is, we don't give up.  It means, we do the right thing, even when the right thing isn't the easy thing.  It means we stay true to who we are. 

I'm certain we will have some battles over the years as we stay true to this mission statement.  We will be tested by the kids time and time again.  But, I will not give into the easy thing.  

As far as Elliot is concerned...it would be easier not to kiss his cheek when I drop them off in the morning, as he sometimes pulls away because it's "embarrassing."  It would be easier to give in on our "no playing Xbox games rated 'M' rule," but we won't.  As far as Sydney goes...well, time will present challenges with her.  She's only 6 and it's not too difficult yet.  

What I saw in the drop off line Friday was so many parents not taking the easy way out.  They were saying the "I love yous" and giving the hugs--probably to some kids that wanted to pull away.   My kids mean too much to me to take the easy way out.  As that quote said, when we have a child our heart goes walking around outside of our body.  My kids are the reason I put my own career on hold, as so many of us moms do.  They are the reason I swallow my pride and drive a minivan (gulp!).  They are the reason John works long hours.  Let's face it, being a parent is the toughest job we'll ever love.

Let's all bind together to do something good for our families as a result of this unspeakable event.  Hug our kids tighter and tell them what they mean to us.  Not because it's easy, but because it's the right thing to do.   

Thank you for reading.

Remembering Mary

My mother-in-law passed away very unexpectedly on Saturday morning.  She was 76 years old.  Our family is deeply saddened by this loss.  We returned last night from being in Ohio to be with family, friends and to honor her life in a memorial service.  Seeing old friends was comforting; and being with extended family always leaves me feeling very loved. 

My in-laws were so very special to me.  I loved them as much as my own parents.  I'm finding some comfort now in knowing that they are together.  They will celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary on June 2nd among the stars in the sky.

I spoke at the memorial service Saturday.  I am posting what I wrote and read at the service here on the blog. 

Thank you to each of you who has prayed for our family.

Think for a minute of your mother-in-law.  What thoughts or feelings come to mind?  Unfortunately, for many of us it might not be pleasant.  Society even stereotypes mother-in-laws in a negative light.  I even remember a movie that was released a few years ago called Monster-in-Law.  Lucky for me, I never had to relate to such characteristics.  My mother-in-law, Mary, was very kind.  Mary was so supportive to me and was someone I could really lean on. 

As I have reflected on my feelings the past few days I have come to the conclusion that there are two parts of Mary’s character that really stand out to me.  Mary was very sentimental and very consistent.  When I think of what I want Elliot and Sydney to remember about Mary, it’s these two characteristics.  That may sound like a dry way to describe someone but I have reasons for both and I promise there is nothing dry about it. 

Our memories of Mary will include things like:

• She and Gary’s trips to visit us in Virginia
• The kids’ excitement to get their Target gift cards in the mail for Christmas
• Homemade meals including the best pot roast and noodles you could ever eat
• Berk’s County Filling at Thanksgiving
• Fancy bakery cakes for the kids’ birthdays
• Bacon sandwiches on cinnamon bread for breakfast
• Chinese takeout lunches
•  Rotolo’s pizza dinners (I think we have a record set for the number of pizza's ordered from their phone number)
  
• Watching Dancing with the Stars together with an occasional glass of wine; Mary's with an ice cube
  
•  Reading cooking magazines and collecting recipes

Mary absolutely loved to cook.  She would plan out the meals for our visits and have all the grocery shopping done a week before we arrived.  Every time we talked on the phone she was excited to share each meal she had and what she planned to cook next. 

One verse keeps making its way into my head and my heart.  It’s Luke 12:34 and it says “for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”  Mary loved cooking for sure, but what she really treasured was her family.  This was so evident as we went through some things in her room this past week.  She saved everything with family significance.  She even treasured things that may not have been deserving of being treasured.  Mary’s heart was her family, her treasure.

That’s why on our birthdays we received the most beautiful cards, and she sent them a week early—she treasured us.  That’s why she stayed with me for a week after Sydney and Elliot were born; cooking potato rivil soup, doing laundry, and cleaning my house—she treasured being a grandma.  That’s why on the day John left Ohio to move to Virginia she was so open with her emotions (which was not something she often did)—she treasured being a mom to her son.  That’s why she checked Laura’s Facebook almost hourly and loved having her all to herself on Laura’s days off—she treasured being connected to her daughter.  That’s why she anticipated Sue’s early morning phone calls—she treasured that time visiting on the phone; chatting about cooking and hearing Sue tell her about the animals at the shelter.  Sue, she treasured having you in her life.

This treasuring was a consistent nature that Mary had.  Her consistency comforts me.  I always knew that when I walked into the house I would find Mary sitting in her chair in the dining room, watching one of her favorite shows, ready to cook the next meal.  She had such a routine about her days and her life.  But it wasn’t routine out of habit—it was part of her consistent nature.  I think it was because she knew where her treasure was…it wasn’t on outside things or things that would fade away like fads or material things.  She treasured us, we had her heart and in that she was able to live life so consistently. 

Mary loved the blog I write.  I found a folder in the house of the blog posts that she had printed out.  I reread an entry that I wrote about Gary’s passing.  In that entry I quoted something from Anne Lamott, one of my favorite authors.  I will close with that quote because it is so fitting for today.

"You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp."