No Lines Drawn

This morning while I was getting ready for work, I was listening to my favorite morning show on the radio. A lady had written in, telling about her 5-year-old son who wanted an Easy-Bake Oven for Christmas. Her husband had scoffed at the idea, saying "Over my dead body!"

On the way to school, I asked my son what he would do if he was a dad and his young son asked for this gift. I didn't preface the question with this father's response as I wanted to get another male's unbiased perspective.

"How old should kids be for something like that?" my son asked me.

"Oh, it depends on the child," I responded. "Maybe as young as 4 or 5, and on up to 9 or so."

"Then I'd say OK." He paused. "Why? I suppose there was a dad who didn't want him to have one because it's a 'girl' toy."

I told him about the conversation on the radio and how the father was adamant that his son not have such a gift. "Well, I wouldn't have a problem with it," my son said.

Thank goodness.

When my son, now almost 16, was 2-years-old, my mom gave him a boy doll donned in basketball attire. "Buddy" accompanied us to the grocery store, the sandbox, down slipper slides and on walks. He never seemed out of place, simply because he belonged to a little boy. The day came soon enough where he was put away; traded in for a real basketball and a new set of interests.

Do we panic when a little girl wants a toy car or a baseball instead of a ruffly dress and Barbies? Why is it when it comes to boys, that society is so frightened to step out of certain lines of the gender box? Perhaps this little boy, who wants an oven of his own, has helped his mother in the kitchen and wants to learn on his own level. Maybe his father is so busy keeping things within those lines that he doesn't have time to get to know his own son. If he did, chances are he would find a loving and interesting little fellow who at five, isn't afraid to follow his own path.

Being a parent isn't about pushing our children down the same road as we have traveled. It's finding delight in who they are and accompanying them down their own, then gradually letting go with encouragement and love.

I hope that that little boy finds an Easy-Bake Oven beneath his tree this Christmas...and that his father finds the soft spot that lives in every man in time to really appreciate his son and all that he has to teach him.

Unscripted Blessings

When my husband and I married nearly seven years ago, we entered into a relationship with a complex and interesting new family. Gone were our ideals, and in their place stood a complicated tangle of emotions and reservations.

In addition to my own son and daughter, I inherited three lovely young women; two who were already grown and beginning their college endeavors and another, who at 15, was beginning her sophomore year with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Those first few years felt like a confusing maze with blurred lines and no real direction. And though we took a few wrong turns along the way, we never lost sight of one another; holding fast as we bumped into walls and not letting go until we came out on the other side, together and back into the light.

It wasn't easy for any of us, but I'm so glad that we persevered and that we have come to that place of understanding where we can truly appreciate and love each other.

Since the road that leads to the girls winds through Oklahoma, we don't see them as often as we'd like, and with the addition of a darling little grandson, that makes it all the more difficult. Still, the moments shared are precious and we are thankful for the loveliness of those times.

I have written very little here about
my step-daughters. I think I've felt it was a bit of an invasion since they don't know that I write and share in this way, and I wouldn't want them to feel compromised or uncomfortable. But this evening, as I look back on these pictures from our Thanksgiving together, I'm so very grateful to have these young women in my life and all that they bring. And I am thankful that through the twists and turns of a "blended family", we have endured this crazy ride, now standing together at this place....and being counted as one.

Sometimes blessings come disguised; unexpected and unscripted in this journey through life. It's amazing when we open our hearts, just what - and who - is waiting to fill them.

Plays Away

I'm not sure I've been missed in the world of Blog, but I have definitely missed writing here and making the rounds to read my favorites.

Life has held me captive these past few weeks, especially the school play which was moved from a spring time show up to mid-November. There is always a lot to do for a production, even on a small scale, and coming on the heels of a state football game and in the midst of working longer hours at school, there has simply been no time for much of anything else.

There were many hours of learning lines, compiling costumes and frustration when people dropped out.
And with the final curtain call came bittersweet feelings: being proud of their accomplishments, relieved that it is over, yet sad that this is my daughter's last high school performance. She's feeling somewhat at a loss as it has occupied her time since the school's beginning in August. Yet she can hold her head up high, knowing that she was part of a very small group that overcame many obstacles during this play, coming out on the other side with a success that surprised everyone.

After the 'serious' group shot at the end of the performance, I asked everyone to have some fun. Little coaxing was needed and with nerves settled, it was easy to set aside their characters and enjoy themselves. Though I have a tape with serious young actors frozen in time, it is the laughter and free spirits I will cherish from this moment as the curtain falls one last time....and a new chapter begins.

Thanksgiving Past

Before my parents moved from the large two-story house we knew as "home", it was our Thanksgiving tradition to walk to the edge of our little town to a natural spring to take pictures. For a few years we took family photos there to include in Christmas greetings, and time was spent drinking from a dipper and gliding over the spring on the lap of a board swing hung from a large elm tree.

As I look through these pictures from my past, it isn't the posed smiles that give me pause, but rather the unrehearsed, sweet moments of little hands discovering the wonders of God's creations. It is the bright eyes and easy smiles that tug at my heart and remind me how blessed I have been and continue to be.

May this Thanksgiving remind you of those who are dear to your heart and how fortunate we are to live in a country where we can celebrate our gratitude.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Days of My Life...

Flowers at work to brighten my day....





A college visit with two of my favorite girls...



























Halloween Fun...






Working on the set for the upcoming play...








And taking a break every now and then...














Senior Pictures...






















And time spent with friends...

And always...a Kansas sunset.

Sunny Days

Though I haven't been posting much as of late, it isn't for lack of photographs or words. There simply isn't enough time in my days to share all that I'd like. Just know that right now the sun is shining brightly in Kansas...and that my days have been filled with great joy.

'Til we meet again...and I promise it will be soon!

The Wind Is Passing By

If you've read my blog for any length of time, you know I love the sky. As we were headed for school one morning, we saw these interesting clouds to our northwest, filled with wind and looking like wispy white cyclones against the October-blue sky. I would've loved to pull over and get a better shot of them, but as we were running late I handed the camera to my son who shot these out the car window.

Now I'm wishing we would've stopped. Sometimes it's worth it to be a bit late...

Festival Time

This has been an especially busy October with the arrival of my baby niece, Berklee, and many obligations at school, due to being a senior parent. With our football team on the cusp of becoming top in their class and preparations for the school play, there's been precious little time to devote to writing.

One of the highlights of our community during this time has also been a large fall festival. The entire county, as well as alumni from far away, gather to celebrate the open doors of Autumn. This photograph was taken early in the day, when chairs are set up hours before the parade starts to ensure the best seat in town. Once it begins, people sit or stand five deep for a two-mile stretch along the sidewalks as colorful floats, flashy bands and pretty girls make their way down the street.

Five girls from the community college vie for Queen of the festival, where one is crowned at a coronation, and girls from the surrounding communities are chosen to represent their towns during the entire celebration. It is a time for laughter and long hours, banquets and dances, and lots of smiling and waving!
I could've chosen a demure photograph where the girls are in their sparkling gowns and posed smiles, but to me this captures the essence of fun at the festival: foamy hot chocolate on noses on a crisp fall morning before the parade begins. I love that my daughter doesn't take herself too seriously, and though she knows when it's 'proper to be proper', she also recognizes when it's OK to wrap herself in laughter and embrace all those around her.

So here's to queens and tiaras...and feeling comfortable in an evening gown, but being at home in a sweatshirt...

Theatre Crazy

Last night some of the members from our play cast boarded a mini-bus, along with their director, her husband and myself. We traveled to a nearby college that was presenting a colorful play filled with wonderful costumes, sets and music. Being from a tiny, rural community, this was the first of this type of art form for some of them. They were thrilled, to say the least and it was such a joy to watch their eyes light up as the curtain rose on the stage.

Though sometimes dealing with a handful of teenagers can be a bit much, they were wonderful. Not a sound was made during the production as they watched the characters dance to the wonderful music of Gershwin, and an energy filled them as they took home memories of tap shoes on wood, charming young men and pretty girls.

My friend, Shelly drove the bus and as we both are big fans of musicals and the theatre, we were excited to have a night to revel in an all-too-rare moment of magic.

Here's to friends, music and laughter...and to our own debut in the weeks ahead.

Birthday Memory

In October of 1982 during a break in my college schedule, my family and I traveled to Missouri and Arkansas for a short vacation. I spent my birthday in the car on our way back home; not the best way to celebrate, especially when I was prone to car sickness!

On a lonesome highway, out in the middle of nowhere, we noticed a sign at the top of an old abandoned shed. As we got closer, much to our surprise, we saw that the sign bore my name: Lori Lynn. We promptly pulled over and my sister shot this photograph on an overcast October 17th - my 21st birthday.

We're always told to watch for signs in life. I just never realized they could be so obvious!

Bringing up Baby

In 1981 when I was a sophomore in college, my first niece was born. In the days before email and digital cameras, I first saw her in a blurry Polaroid snapshot sent to me from the mountains of Colorado. And it was love at first sight.

When she was still a baby her parents divorced and my sister brought her back to Kansas. Though sad about the situation, I was thrilled to have this darling brown-eyed baby close by. And thus began our journey.

She was a tiny little girl, petite and seemingly fragile. But she had a large spirit, a sparkling laugh and filled a nurturing part of my heart. For awhile she was the only niece, the only grandchild and she bathed in the "first" glow with our attention and love. She was like my own in ways as we flew kites, went trick-or-treating and spent time together. I was her "Ya-Ya"; the only one she'd let comb her hair, the quiet aunt who held her close and brought her comfort.

And time moved on. I got married and started a family, and though my focus shifted to my own little girl and boy, there was always a soft spot in my heart for my Lyndsee.

Last October she was married on a beautiful Autumn day. It was one of the loveliest days I've had in awhile as our family came together to celebrate with her. Though many weddings are harried and stressful, this was a day of great joy where we were able to spend a lot of time with one another, relishing our close ties of being in a large family and having enough love to go around.

Early last spring she and her husband announced that they would be new parents just before their first wedding anniversary. We learned early on that it would be a girl and my mind flashed back to those twenty-five years ago when another little girl was born. The time has moved so quickly and it hardly seemed possible that she would be a mother herself.

Yesterday my sister called with the news: Berklee Kathleen came into this world at 10:09 a.m. At 6 lbs 1 oz. she will also be a tiny girl....and I'm anxious to see those familiar brown eyes when I hold her for the first time tomorrow. And so it begins again. A new cycle of life, a wonderful beginning.

Welcome to the world, Berklee. What love awaits you!

Butterflies

One morning last week I awoke with a terrible headache. I'd already fought a rare migraine a few days before and not wanting to do battle again, opted to stay in bed awhile before going to work later that morning.

I didn't feel like going at all. Though I always consider myself blessed with wonderful gifts in this life, sometimes the inevitable trials gather like dark clouds on the horizon, threatening to shroud my sunny days in gray.

I headed out the driveway, my mind wrapped around all the things that have been causing stress, and though the day was lovely....I barely noticed. As I pulled up to the stop sign at the end of our gravel road, I saw a bright butterfly dancing merrily alongside of me. It swooped and flitted in and out and turned west with me as I pulled out onto the highway. And then I began to see them everywhere; dancing in the blue October sky like a winged ballet.

All the way to town I saw them and each turn brought one or two new butterflies, flying beside me, leading me, carrying me towards my destination. Once there, I walked towards the school accompanied again by a fluttering wisp of yellow.

As I entered the building they disappeared like a favorite dream, lost in the arrival of day. But their moments of merriment as they escorted me that morning stayed with me and set the tone for the rest of my day. And when I walked into the classroom I realized with delight that my headache was gone, and in its place the memory of a dalliance with the butterflies....

Without A Home

I can't get him off my mind...

I felt his presence before I saw him, sitting behind us in the last pew at church this morning. I didn't hear as he silently slipped in, yet I knew he was there.

He was the epitome of a homeless man; disheveled hair and his beard, long..gray..matted. He wore a dirty coat, unnecessary in the lingering Kansas heat and he was bent as if he hadn't the strength or hope to hold him up. I turned slightly and met his eyes. They were tired, lifeless, distant...and he seemed lost in a way that no human should ever be lost. I smiled, mouthing the word, "Welcome" and in return saw the corners of his own raise, his eyes softening. And though the service continued, I could concentrate on little else.

I felt him bow his head in prayer and noticed he sat quietly during the reading of the scripture. He listened as the pianist played during the sharing of special music and at one point, he made his way to the set of pews past the back aisle of the church.

We had to leave before the service was over, due to an engagement in another town. The sermon over, I signaled to the children and we quietly slipped from the pew and out of the sanctuary. I stopped briefly in front of this man and whispered a few words. He partially rose, paying respect to a lady; a gesture he must have learned from someone at some time.

As we left the church my son asked, "Do you know that man, Mom?"
"No, I don't," I told him. In a small community one knows everyone, and homeless people are nonexistent in our safe little world.

We proceeded to the school to pick up some things, then to the gas station up on the highway before making a quick trip home before we had to leave. And all the time I thought of him. My daughter must have been thinking also because on the way home she asked, "What did you say to that man, Mom?"
"I told him that it was nice to have him at church, and thanked him for coming."

It was....and I meant it.

The past few days I have been feeling low because of an opportunity I cannot take. I've been feeling cheated, sullen and on the verge of tears because of things I have to do and things I am unable to do.

Then there was this man...

I was lying in bed tonight, writing letters when my son came in to kiss me good-night. My husband took him back into town this evening for an open gym.
"You know that man from church? Well, we saw him tonight on our way into practice. He was walking south, out of town."

Where did he spend the day? Did someone take him home and feed him dinner, or did he continue to wander aimlessly, searching? And now all I can do is think of him, walking down that highway at night where semi-trucks rush dangerously between the white lines and there are no lights to lead the way.

I pray that he is safe and that somehow, someway his brief stay in a small Methodist church showed him that wherever he is, and wherever he is going, Someone does walk beside him. May he see that light and follow it to higher ground because no one, no where deserves to be without a home.

Valued Friendship

How quickly fly the days...

Back in 1995 my son was enchanted with this little girl. She was the same age as my daughter and came home from kindergarten with us each day to a world of stuffed animals, art and Barbies. She was like our own; another child to fill our home with laughter and our hearts with love. A friendship developed instantly, not just between the girls but with this little boy and his second 'sister'. Having no brothers of her own, she adopted him without question and so began a journey through the years.

Twelve years later they are different.....they are the same, with a bond that has endured despite a separation of miles. Where once they shared each day, now months slip by without a meeting. Still, there is connection. Though apart, they've continued to grow together in mind and spirit as they share such a similarity in intelligence and sense of humor.

How rich they are today. Not only do they have a history of childhood days filled with sweetness and laughter, but they've spun golden threads to create a friendship that has lasted - and will last - throughout the years.

Consideration

Many days after the final school bell rings at 3:20, I change my shoes, pull on a T-shirt and clock-in for cleaning duty. Though it isn't my favorite way to pass those after school hours, it helps to bring in some much needed extra money.

Since we only have one family vehicle, we have to be creative and juggle our schedules so that everyone is where they need to be at any given time. Sometimes when I have to stay late, the kids take the car home so they can catch up on homework and do some chores. When I finish at the school, they either return to pick me up or I wait for my husband to come by on his way home from work.

Yesterday my daughter stayed after school for play practice and my son opted to drive home. I told him I would call the house after thirty minutes or so to make sure he had arrived safely. As is usual for most moms, I got busy with the routine.....and forgot to make the call. An hour later, I remembered and made my way down to the classroom for my cell phone. Noticing there was a voice mail from home, I listened to this message:

"Hey Mom... this is Dylan and I was just calling because you said you were going to call... and I guess you forgot or something...But I made it home all right and I was just letting you know. Bye."

He is 15 and still on a driver's permit so I do worry as his driving experience is limited and he has to go home to an empty house in the country. He knows this about me and was checking in to give his old Mom reassurance that everything was OK.

Consideration is an important thing and it takes just a moment to reassure someone you love - and who loves you - that all is well. Though I let the ball slip on my end this time, I'm glad that my son was caring enough to pick up the slack. Chances are I won't be the only woman in his life and he is well on his way to making sure that any heart close to him will always be safe in the harbor of his love.

Octobering

October is my favorite month of the year. Perhaps it's because my birthday falls in the middle of the month and I equate this time with cherished celebrations. But there are so many reasons to love October.

It's a time for pumpkins and leaves, crisp weather and blue skies. It's scarecrows and corn stalks, haybales and milo fields. It's football games and hot chocolate, sweaters and brilliant sunsets. And it's memories of rosy-cheeked days, hooded jackets and warm little hands in mine.

This photo from 13 Octobers ago lives in my heart as laughter echoes from a wooden eagle's nest and soars through golden leaves. How fleeting were those childhood days and how very precious. Yet in my mind's eye they are still 5 and 2 with nary a care, a backyard of fun and a day filled with Octobering.

Decisions and Honors

Recently my daughter was inducted as a Kansas Honor Scholar by the KU Alumni Association. She is Co-Valedictorian of her senior class and along with several other students in the county, was honored at a banquet.

She sat quietly at the table, taking in the conversation and yet, feeling apart from it as talk turned to college. She is uncertain at this point of where she'd like to go and what she wants to do.

I try to reassure her that many kids her age are unsure of their future goals and the direction they want to take with their lives (as well as some of us 'older' folks!). The fact that 60% of college freshmen are undeclared and students change majors more than five times during their college career does little to comfort her.

Yesterday we went on our first college visit where we toured the campus of a community college about an hour from home. I watched as she strolled along the sidewalks, taking in the sights and observing the
differences between that world and her own. She was charmed by the young man sitting outside in the sunshine playing his guitar and the auditorium filled with sets for an upcoming play. I saw a light in her face as she observed the diversity of a college setting and in her smile as she talked with her guide (Of course, it helped that he was a very handsome college freshman)!

As hard as it will be for me to let her go next fall, I'm excited for the possibilities that lay ahead for her. And even though she's unsure of what she wants to be when she grows up, she will soon learn that it is in the journey of becoming an adult where she will grow and change and not so much in what she actually chooses to do.

I am so proud of her accomplishments thus far and of the direction she's moving. But the greatest honor lies in simply being her mother. and in walking this amazing path that she is so willing to share.

Wishing to Fly

"I truly believe if my time is up here,
Then I will be called.
Till then I am safe.
So...I fly."

I am not a risk taker, preferring to tiptoe around the dangerous edges as I rest comfortably within my safety net. I like to think it's because I value my life and want to steer clear of anything that may cause me harm.

But then I wonder...

I was talking with a friend who spoke of living life to the fullest and gleaning all you can from the day, knowing that you are held safely until your time on this earth is through.

I don't want to leave here with my dreams still neatly wrapped, contained within their packaging because I was too afraid to trust, believe, soar. So...where do you draw the line between living...and living dangerously? When do you throw caution to the wind, rely on faith....and fly?

Coronado's Castle

On top of a rocky hill, resting in the middle of the Kansas prairie lies a stone castle: Coronado's Castle. It's a beautiful place where travelers can stop for a bird's eye view of its rich rural heritage and undisturbed acres of grassland.

Tucked away in my archives, buried in the year 2005, lives a post I wrote about the castle at Coronado Heights. It's a place that has always been dear to me; a place to go where I can find beauty, peace and an abundance of memories.

It is truly a breathtaking journey, this road that leads to the top of Coronado, and the stay is one that lingers in the mind long after the trip has ended. Along the winding road that leads to the top of the hill lies a marker that reads: "A Place to Share", and through that sharing comes moments which are never shaken, nor ever very far away.

My favorite time to visit Coronado is when no one else is there. It then becomes a treasured secret, a hidden escape that leaves no admittance to the outside world. Cares drift away on the Kansas wind and the soul finds a resting place of contentment among the rustling grasses and wildflowers.

There are trails to explore and something new to see each time. Remnants of past loves and memories are left in stones scattered around the hill, yet enhance instead of distract from the setting, as if they have always been a part of its history.

Inside the castle, one can make his way up the steep, spiraled staircase to the top of the world that can rival any city skyscraper in its view.
Fields lay like patchwork quilts along the landscape and small farms dot the top like colorful buttons, tying it all together. The busyness of the city lies far in a distant dream upon the canvas, and there is no room for ill thoughts in the vast loveliness.

Stone picnic tables are scattered on the edge of the hill, inviting intimate meals and quiet conversation. And if one is fortunate to be there at twilight he is treated to a private view of a spectacular display of colors, courtesy of God Himself.

The Rockies of Colorado are beautiful in their awesome height and glory, and it's hard to beat the brilliance of an Ozark mountain lit by Autumn. But give me the quiet hilltop off a lonely Kansas road for a place of peace and reflection. I will choose it every time.

This was the view of our sky tonight. It was as if a great artist tipped his brush in golden embers and swept it across the horizon, leaving trails of pink and purple to float away like wisps of colored smoke.

It's always magical to watch our western canvas each night and witness God's masterpiece in the making: a gift I never tire of.