Story Times

I love this time of year. With cooler temperatures and shorter days we hunker down, gathering at the table or around the fire. Listen carefully, for 'tis the season of stories, and I have a true one to share...

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In 2014 I interviewed a man from Ohio who told the most incredible story about his uncle, a tail gunner on a B17 bomber during WWII.

During one of their missions, the plane was shot down over Germany and his uncle was taken prisoner. One day a German soldier was ordered to take his uncle in the woods and shoot him; instead, the soldier secretly released his uncle. This single act so influenced the uncle that he became a Catholic priest.

Incredibly, after the war the uncle located the German soldier who then flew to the U.S. to attend his uncle's ordination. The man I interviewed was an altar server during his Uncle's ordination and met the German soldier.

The uncle told this story to his nephew, who told it to me, which is now shared with you. Listen to the stories. They are gifts.

A Girlie Football Saturday

Yesterday it was a cold and rainy Saturday, so we lit a fire in the fireplace and hunkered down to watch football. 

Let me clarify: Joe watched football and I kinda sorta watched football because me watching a game also involves reading, writing, cooking, or working on my blog. 

But yesterday, sitting on the couch before a roaring fire, I was feeling crafty so I went online and visited Tricia Robinson, the "painter of happy, believer in whimsy" who "sees God's smile in the everyday". Earlier in the week I saw that Tricia was offering a free craft project to make Verse Dresses, so I downloaded her free printables and spent a rainy Saturday afternoon making a verse dress for every day of the week.  

What will I do with them? Nothing. But it felt so good to be creative. To be immersed in color. Markers, colored pencils, or crayons? I used all of them! I challenged myself to think outside the box: I cut off the ponytail and repositioned it, even using TWO of them for pigtails; I cut off the sleeves to change the dress; I experimented with layering; I colored the legs to make tights. When I was finished, I made a video. 

And that was how I spent a cold and rainy football Saturday. 

Now, a Wedding

Three years ago, we helped Jonathan move into his new apartment in Atlanta. It was in the middle of a pandemic, and it had been an unusual spring: Jonathan's graduation was a virtual one, and he marched across the living room dressed in his cap and gown when his name was broadcast on the television screen; he signed a lease for an apartment he only toured virtually; and when we helped him move to Atlanta in May, the streets were mostly empty due to everyone working from home.

That day, as we unloaded the Penske truck at his apartment complex, I knew the time to say goodbye was quickly approaching. And I dreaded it. The world seemed so unsettled, and Jonathan would be facing it alone, in a new city, with a new job, in a new apartment. Nothing seemed safe, or certain, or easy.

But Time does not stop. It marches on, and we are forever perched between Yesterday and Tomorrow as we face the Now. There is vulnerability in the Now. Sometimes Now involves tears, stormy weather, and goodbye, while other times Now brings with it laughter, and sunshine, and hello.

I remember very clearly what it felt like to leave Jonathan in Atlanta, and I see now what a blessing these past three years have been. All those things that were scary, turned out to be wonderful: a new apartment! a new city to explore! a new job with benefits! new friends, acquaintances, coworkers! and a charming, smart, delightful fiancée, Caroline. 

As I type these words, Joe is packing up the van with suitcases, garment bags, and dress shoes. I have packed more for one weekend in Atlanta than I did for a two week trip to Italy. We will stop in Athens to pick up Timothy before continuing our journey to Atlanta where we will gather with family and friends. 

Because sometimes Now involves a wedding. And we will celebrate.

Happy Tears

With one week to go until the wedding, yesterday Caroline sent me the schedule of events which included the procession order for the ceremony. When I got to "Jonathan and Monsignor Frank enter from the side door" I was smiling through the tears.

Happy tears.

The best kind.

I love ...

I love color kaleidoscopes 

on Sicilian mermaids, 

espresso saucers, 

garden planters, 

and floating rowboats.

Let me tell you what I want, what I really really want

Today is my dad's 81st birthday, and in honor of the occasion I am sharing the following conversation from a few years ago. Try to follow along and not get dizzy.

Me: Dad, what do you want for your birthday?

Nonno: I don't know. I really don't need anything.

Nonna: I know what he wants. He wants a wind chime.

Nonno: I want a wind chime?

Nonna: Yes, don't you remember when we went to our friends' house and they had a wind chime? It sounded so beautiful.

Nonno turns and looks at me.

Nonno: I guess I want a wind chime.

I look at him. I look at my Mom. And I keep my mouth shut. Later that evening I get a phone call.

Nonno: I've been thinking. I really would like a wind chime.

So Nonno received a wind chime. For his birthday. For Nonna. Or something. 

This reminded me of the time we were in Naples, Italy when one of the boys asked where Vesuvius was and, like an Abbot and Costello routine, my parents point in OPPOSITE directions. It was so funny that our boys got in on it too, pointing here, there, and everywhere.

My Piano Man

Happy birthday to my piano man, Dad’s sports buddy, and (since you’re in the middle) the best younger AND older brother. Two years ago you stood by Nicholas on his wedding day, and in two weeks he will do the same for you. Happy birthday Jono!