Lakeview Living: June 2016

Boys, your dad is the nicest, most good-hearted man I ever met. He's the kind of person that everyone gets along with; not an enemy in the world. He's the kind of person that brings the grocery cart all the way back into the store. He's almost always in a good mood and he firmly believes in doing what is right. He's just like your pawpaw.

PawPaw's life is coming to an end. This disgusting disease is slowly taking control of the functions that you and I take for granted. He can no longer eat and speak. His hands are having trouble gripping things. He's had a few falls. The muscles in his diaphragm that allow air to move in and out are slowly shutting down. And as of late last week, he is fighting a staph infection/pneumonia, which is causing him to have more mucus and phlegm that he can't cough out. He's in the ICU and if he sticks with his decision to not get a tracheostomy, it may be days.

As mentally prepared as I thought I was, I'm not. I can't find the right words to say to your dad to make him smile. I can't keep myself composed when the doctor walks in with more bad news, because all I can think about is will he get to see his grandsons again? This is so much harder than I thought it would be. I thought I'd be stronger.

But with all of this sadness surrounding us, I can't help but think about how lucky we were to have him. Your dad and Uncle Neil had 30+ years with your PawPaw as their dad. They have some of the best childhood memories of camping, baseball, silliness and accomplishments that a family can have together. Your PawPaw taught them how to be good people, how to work hard and how to love unconditionally. Your dad works so hard at being a good dad for you, but the truth is, he's already a great dad, because it's in his blood. He learned everything he knows on being a dad from your pawpaw. And as hard as it is to see through the sadness right now, he'll move on from this, as will Uncle Neil, continuing to be just like PawPaw and to carry on his legacy.

Your dad mentioned to me last night, "I wonder if they know how much we love them." What's tough about this whole "circle of life" is that wisdom takes time. You're not born with it. You don't realize how precious life is and how important family and good friends are til you're older, and sometimes, til you've lost the people closest to you. Having this extra year to appreciate your pawpaw, while it still wasn't enough time, allowed us to really think more about how much he loved Granny, your dad and Uncle Neil, and how serious he took his role of husband and dad. When you and your cousins came along, that love multiplied exponentially. And you brought this unexplainable, overwhelming happiness to his life, even more than what he felt as a dad. I think he'll miss you four most of all.

Boys, I'm so sorry that you won't get to know him like your dad did. I wish you would've had more time to become friends with him as adults. But I can guarantee you that although he may no longer be with us here on earth, he will be in our hearts. He will be at every ball game, with the best seat in the house. He will watch you grow. He will live in your conscience, helping you make the right life choices. He will watch over you and guide you through your successes and failures. He will help you to know and feel unconditional love and to recognize when good people come into your lives. He will travel with us to the mountains. He will be at your graduations and weddings. And if there's ever any doubt when you're older about what he was like, just look to your dad. Because, like I said, he's just like him.

Boys, it's been a challenging month for your mom. My emotions have been all over the place, from anxious and excited to frustrated and defeated. I'm overwhelmed after signing up to take on too much. My body is hurting because I physically worked too hard, and for what feels like nothing. I'm drained and a little angry. But this period of unrest will pass. Life is still good. Better than good in fact. I have you and Daddy. I'll move forward, learn from my mistakes and work to do better next time. Events in life sometimes happen all at once, knocking you to your feet. But eventually, with help from good people in your life, and God by your side, you get back up and brush it off. Follow your gut and do what you think is right. Do it every time. Even if it's not the popular thing to do. Even if it causes temporary strife. Don't be a bystander when you should've taken action. And when people criticize you, because they will, stand up for yourself. Know that Daddy and I are here for you, always on your side and that we love you.

Now, let's talk about you and what you've been up to...

You're both growing in leaps and bounds. Daddy cut your hair last week and Aunt Jessica texted me asking when Jasper got to be so big! Jasper, you completed PreK4 in May and you're on your way to Kindergarten. I watched you perform at your school fair in April and in only one year, you went from this shy, still kid, to laughing, singing and dancing with your friends on stage. I videotaped the whole performance, and I'm absolutely going to show it to your future girlfriends, because I'm so proud. You'll be five years old in two months and I don't know where the time has gone. Your summer camp counselor told us, "That Jasper, he's a funny guy." You get in trouble for pulling your pants down at school a little too often. You even pretended to squirt "it" at the girls like a hose. Needless to say, you got a red check that day. But you are positively the sweetest four-year-old I've ever met, and I don't care if I'm biased. When you got in trouble for spitting last week, we gave you chores and you literally sang while doing them. Sometimes in the morning, before I get out of bed, I wake up to you cuddling up next to me and hugging me. What a great way to start my day.

You race with Daddy and Sam to the door every morning as we drop off Sam at daycare. Every now and then Daddy lets you win, but mostly, he lets you lose so that you try harder. You're getting faster, and you're learning how not to be a sore loser, which is important. You started cabbage ball league at St. Francis last week and I think Daddy is beginning to have some valid concerns about his future "baseball star." But you're a fantastic builder and you love learning all about tools with Grandpa. You told Daddy that you want to be a construction worker. Your swimming has improved so much in the past year. You're fearless in the pool. When we go to the coffee shop, I let you order for yourself so that you're never afraid to speak up and ask for something. I want you to interact with people and always be polite to others. I believe this teaches confidence too. You stand up for yourself and you talk about what it means to be kind. You mess with Sam some, but for the most part you're loving toward him. When I asked if you liked having a little brother, you said, "Yeah, but he's grumpy sometimes." You're social, just like Daddy and me. You always want to invite people to be with us, whether it's going out to eat or swimming at Granny's. I love your naivety and innocence. You still believe the Easter Bunny is real and that he lives in the neighborhood, which is why he stops by so often around Easter time. You keep PawPaw's spirits up, playing Candyland and telling your jokes. That hamburger joke gets me every time. When Uncle Frank came in town, of all the songs you could've sang in the car with him, you picked, "Who Shot the Lala." I think Uncle Frank was impressed. A few weeks ago, while driving, you and I were talking about best friends and I told you that you were Sam's best friend. Then, when I told you that Daddy was my best friend, you asked, "Then why don't you play tackle with him?" You make me laugh. A lot. You're 42 in. tall and you weigh 34 lbs., which means all of your clothes still fit you, but they're short. And I can't buy bigger sizes yet because they fall right off. (And we can't have that happen any more than it already does!) Son, you have a way of lifting me up no matter how down I get, reminding me how lucky I am to be your mom. God really knew what he was doing when he brought us together.

Sam, I'm so excited for you to start school with Brother in August! I can't wait to see you in your little uniform, but part of me wishes you'd stay exactly the way you are right now, at least for a few more years. Diapers and all, it wouldn't matter to me. All I have to do is say the word, "kiss," and wherever you are, you stop what you're doing, run over to me and pucker up! Most mornings, Daddy wakes you up and makes you breakfast, but I get you dressed. You're not a morning person so you're usually pretty grumpy. But there are some mornings after I've changed your diaper, put your clothes on and put your shoes on, that instead of running out of the room to go watch cartoons, you sit back in my lap and let me hold you. It only lasts about a minute because our mornings are pretty hectic, but I want you to know, that's the sweetest part of my day, just us, sitting together on the floor in your room, before the day takes us in different directions. I have an idea as to why you're not a morning person. Now that you and Jasper are in the same bedroom, you spend a good hour, sometimes two, talking and laughing with Jasper. He tells us about how you keep him up at night. Most kids get tired then fussy, but not you; you get tired then silly. It's hard fussing at you to go to bed because we're usually laughing at you and Jasper cutting up together. I hope you always stay close. When you do fight with one another, and we tell the two of you to make up, you walk over to Jasper with open arms and say, "Sawy Brudder," even if it's not your fault. I love seeing you two hug.

You've begun making really funny faces, crinkling your nose and snarling at people. Yes, snarling; you do it all the time. I find that you snarl mostly in public, and you do it loudly. At daycare, you're still the class favorite, but at home, you snarl at Daddy and me, and especially Jasper if he takes your toys, particularly your motorcycle. You are always ready to eat. You love my red beans, and you take forever to eat snoballs and ice cream. You could live on cheese sandwiches and apple sauce for months if you had to. You love the Ninja Turtles. We introduced you to the old 1980s Ninja Turtle cartoons and now, that's all you want to watch. You don't like wearing cutesie clothes. You prefer dinosaur shirts and tiger shirts, and when I put them on you, you growl like you're an animal. You don't talk a lot but you have some pretty funny one-liners. In the car, you'll burst aloud from the back seat, "Hello Everybody!" Just like Mickey from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Then you'll yell, "Hello Mommy, Hello Daddy!" When we catch you doing something wrong, you'll say, "Oh! Sawy," and when we ask you to do something, you respond, "O-tay." You have a really deep voice for a toddler. Last month, Granny picked you up from daycare, then picked up Jasper. There was a kid that said something mean to Jasper, and Granny said that you immediately took action. You crinkled your nose and yelled at the kid, "Dat's my brudder!" You're a tough guy. When you fall down, you get back up without shedding a tear. You stand back up, brush off your knees, and keep going to catch up with the bigger kids. I can already see how strong-willed and fearless you are becoming. Your new favorite song is Mardi Gras Mambo and you ask us to play it all the time. You know the words. You enjoy singing and dancing. You want what Brother has, you eat what Brother eats. You look up to him and love him. You like sleeping late, but if Brother wakes you up, you follow him. You follow him everywhere. Last week, you slept in his bunk bed with him. We thought that was so cute, while it lasted. (Jasper got tired of you rolling on him so he made you go back to your bed.) You HATE bath time. You scream, "HELP ME, HELP ME!" Needless to say, you go to daycare dirty more often than not. You're two years, seven months old. You weigh 30 lbs. and you're 36 in. tall. It's just a matter of time before you and Jasper are the same size. When I ask you whose belly that is, you say, "Mommy's belly." You have the longest eye lashes I've ever seen. And your nose is always filled with snot. I love you my Sammy-Sam.

After (those too infrequent) bath times, I still wrap you up one at a time and hold you each like a baby in my arms. Your bodies are getting longer, and heavier to hold. It's OK though, because I love watching you become more of who you'll be. The precise definition of being a parent is difficult to put into words. It is demanding, exhausting, mentally challenging and sometimes even painful. But it gives me this indescribable feeling that I can only express as perfect contentment, true love and abundant happiness, bundled with pride and compassion hitting me all at once, knocking the breath right out of me at times. Your dad and I put all of our time and effort into raising you and preparing you for life, knowing that we will have to let you go some day. But every homework sheet, every nighttime prayer, every encouraging hug, every please and thank you reminder, is worth this life we've created with you.

Our thirties have become the most challenging, yet most rewarding years thus far. Money is tighter, work is getting harder, time seems shorter, our parents are aging, and some days, we feel like we can't keep up. But you, Jasper and Sam, make it all worth it. Watching you grow and seeing your successes and failures each day, both big and small, make our lives worth living. Even when life's challenges surround us, you keep our spirits up. We'll do everything we can to prepare you in the best ways that we know how, in hopes that you become good, responsible and kind people. It's the most fulfilling work that I never imagined. We won't expect anything from you, simply that you try. Try every day. And I hope that when you look back on your childhood, and your memories, you'll know that we tried for you.