Girl… or Boy?

No, no, no, I’m not pregnant. My niece is! She and her husband are expecting their first child next March.

Last weekend they had a “gender reveal” party, and it was super exciting. I’d seen reveals online, like when balloons are popped and pink or blue confetti flows out, or when a cake is sliced, there’s either pink or blue cake inside. But I’d never personally been to a reveal. I know they’re popular now, especially among millennials.

My parents had absolutely NO idea what their granddaughter was talking about when she sent out the Facebook invite. My 90-year-old dad had a hard time grasping the concept. “What in the world is a gender reveal party? Why do they have a party for that? That’s just for women to go to, right?”

“No, Dad. It’s for all of us. It’ll be fun to share in the excitement with Kady and Dylan.”

I wasn’t sure how the reveal party worked. I thought the parents-to-be found out the sex of their baby, and that they were the ones to orchestrate the revealing. I found out this isn’t the case, or at least, it wasn’t here.

A few weeks ago, Kady had a blood test to determine the gender. The doctor’s office put the result in an envelope, sealed it tightly, and gave it to Kady, who gave it to one of her friends. (No, Kady did NOT peek!) Her friend was the only one entrusted with the secret. She ordered the pink or blue theme for the revealing.

About 30 of us gathered at my sister’s house for the “unveiling.” It was suggested we wear pink or blue, depending on what our vote was. I wore blue jeans and a light pink t-shirt. That way, I had it covered. There was a sea of different shades of blue and pink, with slightly more people sporting blue.

We put stickers on, either “Team Blue” or “Team Pink.” Banners and balloons decorated the kitchen. There were blue and pink frosted cupcakes and pink lemonade and blue tropical punch.

Kady was glowing and Dylan was the proud papa-to-be. They couldn’t wait to find out if they’d be welcoming a girl or boy into their lives.

Finally it was time to head out to the front yard. We all stood on the lawn, anticipating what was about to happen. Dylan said some beautiful words about how it takes a village to raise a child, and he and Kady are blessed to have all of us in their lives.

Then they each held a long white cylinder stick (a smoke powder cannon), and the countdown began. THREE…TWO…ONE!

They twisted the canisters and out exploded…

Huge plumes of bright blue smoke!

Everyone clapped and cheered until the blue cloud disappeared. The look of joy on Kady and Dylan’s faces was beyond priceless. They gave each other a tight hug, as they laughed and shed tears of happiness.

In six months, I’ll get to meet my sweet, great nephew.

And my niece and her husband will hold their precious son for the very first time.

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A Birthday to Remember

A couple of weeks ago, my sister called to finalize details for our dad’s 90th birthday party. We had been trying to come up with something extra special.

My sister (I’ll call her Claire) wanted to run an idea by me. “How about if each of us talk about a special memory of Dad, or tell why he’s important to us… And I’ll videotape it.”

Videotape it? I’m not sure if everyone will be up for that.

Claire said that whoever wanted to participate could, no pressure for those who don’t want to.

So I agreed. And started to think about what I’d say.  Where do I begin?

The anticipated big day was arriving quickly. My other sister (I’ll call her Tara), who lives out of state, flew in for the festivities. It meant the world to Dad that she came.

All of us gathered last weekend to celebrate the birth and wonderful life of our patriarch. Dad, Grandpa, Great-Grandpa.

We had a barbeque with his favorite meal — hot dogs, hamburgers, potato salad, and a donut cake. I can’t tell you how many pictures we have of him blowing out candles, perched on a stack of donuts. But this one was momentous. Two candles, one the number 9, one the number 0, stood proudly on top of the donut tower.

There were 16 of us, so we started the video tribute sessions early, before dinner. Dad sat in the living room where it was quiet, as most people were outside eating appetizers and playing games of cornhole.

One by one, we sat on the sofa next to him. No one opted out. Every single one of us spoke.

My sisters and I went first. Tara talked about how she used to love going out with Dad every year, just the two of them, to find the perfect “Charlie Brown Christmas tree.” Claire reminded Dad of the times they’d lie on the backyard lounge chairs at night and stare at the stars, trying to find constellations.

I told Dad how much I loved my pretty bedroom he decorated for me when I was a little girl. He painted it pink, with flower wallpaper, and a canopy bed. He made me feel like a princess. I talked about how I treasure the times that he and my mom come over to our house for Sunday dinner. And that I love how our conversations usually lead to sheer laughter. Those moments spent together are priceless.

Then my mom sat next to her husband of 60 years. She told him that he’s the best man she could ever have hoped for. What she said, and how they looked at each other, is etched in my mind forever.

I couldn’t resist taking a picture of my sweet parents. I hadn’t planned on taking pictures, as it all was being videotaped. But I wanted to capture as much as I possibly could.

The moments were tender and beautiful. It’s hard to describe the look on each person’s face, and my dad’s, while reminiscing. It was like Dad was staring into each family member’s eyes, wanting to soak it all in.

Like when one of my nephews talked about the cross necklace my dad gave him years ago. He treasures that cross, like nothing else he’s ever owned.

Or when my sister-in-law broke down crying, because she’s blessed and grateful to be part of our family. My dad held her hand and hugged her.

Or when my newly-pregnant niece teared up, telling him that he’s always made her feel special. She grew up with four older brothers, and reveled in the fact that she was unique, as my parents lovingly referred to her as “our first granddaughter.” My dad touched my niece’s pregnant belly with both hands, and it was more than precious.

Mackenzie, my oldest daughter, said how much she loves to hear Grandpa tell stories about his life. My youngest daughter, Talee, told him how happy she is that she’s carrying on the tradition of working at the place where he and Grandma met and fell in love.

All of the other memories and acknowledgments were equally as beautiful. Some serious, some lighthearted. But the one thing they had in common: it was clear to my dad how much he is admired, respected, and loved.

I think those tributes were as important to all of us, as much as they were to him.

When the party ended, Mom and Dad looked exhausted.

The next day, I saw Dad, and asked him if he’d recovered from the big celebration.

He said, “No.”

“Oh no, really, you haven’t?”

“No,” he said. A big smile spread on his face. “I’m still on cloud nine.”

Perfect.

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Beauty Within

I saw this quote on a friend’s Instagram post and loved it. It feels amazing when someone we care for brings out the best in us.

That true happiness and pure contentment which brings us joy, radiates outward. The inside beauty shines through in acts of kindness, compassion, and love for each other.

When I know I don’t look so great, in fact, I’m a total mess — my hair frizzy and out of control, no makeup on, my face sweaty and grimy with dirt from working in the garden —  my husband, Alex, will say, “You’re still beautiful to me.”

I might roll my eyes and blurt out, “Oh, yeah, right!” But he always makes me smile. He makes me laugh. And I know that deep down, I am beautiful to him, no matter what.

When our oldest daughter, Mackenzie, was one year old, Alex and I took her to a department store photo studio to get her picture taken. She wore a white, ruffly dress. A small satin bow held wisps of her hair. I took off her patent leather shoes and let her go barefoot. She sat on a platform, covered with a white fur rug. Her chubby feet with little pink toes looked so cute. She was adorable.

But Mackenzie was not impressed. She would NOT smile.

The photographer tried everything. She made funny faces, talked in silly voices, squeaked toys. Nothing worked. Mackenzie was on the verge of tears.

That is, until Alex picked up her favorite stuffed toy, a small Big Bird.  He threw it in the air, saying “Whee!” and caught it. She smiled. He did it again and she giggled. He threw Big Bird high in the air one more time, and Mackenzie let out a hearty laugh. The photographer got some great shots.

Now, every time I glance at that framed photo in the hallway, I smile, as I remember that day and why our little girl had that joyous look on her face.

The love for her daddy started within and beamed outward, for everyone to see.

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This Is Me

Last weekend my husband and I went to see The Greatest Showman. I  loved the music and smiled nearly the entire movie. There was one song that really got my attention. It was performed by the “misfit” characters in the circus show.

I am not a stranger to the dark
“Hide away,” they say
“‘Cause we don’t want your broken parts”
I’ve learned to be ashamed of all my scars
“Run away,” they say
“No one’ll love you as you are”

These words can be applied to everyone’s lives at one time or another. No one is perfect. We all have things we don’t like about ourselves.

It might be a physical feature, like my thick, wavy hair that gets too frizzy (the straightener is my friend!) or the lines on my face as I age.

Or it can be an attitude or behavior we’d like to change. I eat pretty healthy, but do I eat healthy enough? Do I exercise enough? Am I smart enough? Pretty enough? Am I enough?

Or that imperfection could be a physical or mental illness. Like my anxiety and panic attacks.

Those hardships help shape us into the people we are. It’s what makes us, us. We’re all different, and that truly is what makes this life so rich, interesting, and beautiful.

Our trials, sorrow, and pain, (also our joys and successes) bless us with compassion and  kindness.

There’s no doubt in my mind that because of what my family and I have been through with mental illness, I’m more empathetic than I would’ve been otherwise.

My mom had anorexia and depression, and my daughters and I have struggled with anxiety. I know how hard it is to watch a loved one deal with a mental health condition. And I know how scary and lonely it feels to experience panic symptoms and not want to tell anyone because of embarrassment and shame.

I’ve been there, I know.

We’re on this earth to share our gifts and talents, to love, and to help others. Going through difficult times is part of learning who we are and who we want to be.

Accept and embrace your whole self, including — especially including — your differences. You’re a gift to this world. Exactly the way you are.

Love on the Beach

It was pure magic.

About a month ago, my husband, two daughters, and I arrived on the beautiful island of Maui. After settling into our condo, we explored the resort and headed toward the beach. It was close to sunset, and we wanted to watch the sun slip behind the ocean. The short boardwalk led us directly to the sand.

We stopped close to the shore where the waves were lapping. It was a bit cloudy, which made for a gorgeous sunset. There weren’t many people there. It was so peaceful.

I focused on the tranquil ocean and breathed in the warm, tropical air. I was lost in my thoughts. That’s when my I felt my husband nudge me.

“Jen, look.” Alex pointed to the shorebreak. He got Mackenzie and Talee’s attention too. We stared at what was unfolding in front of us.

There was a woman with her feet in the water. A man stood next to her. Five to ten people, who seemed to know each other, were nearby. One lady was taking pictures of the couple and the sunset.

I was clueless to what was about to happen.

All of a sudden, the man went down on one knee, in the water. He looked up at the woman, took her hand, and spoke to her.

Oh my gosh, he’s proposing! Right here, right in front of us!

We watched as he opened a small box, took out a ring, and slipped it on her finger. Her hands were shaking. She wiped away tears and stared at her hand. They hugged. And hugged again. Her squeals of excitement were heartwarming.

The newly engaged couple turned and saw their loved ones, who had witnessed the momentous event. Hugs, kisses, and congratulations were passed all around. The bystanders, including us, clapped and cheered.

I’ll never forget how the man beamed when he announced, “She said YES!”

It was beautiful. We felt honored to be a part of their engagement. Strangers, yet bonded by this special occasion. A moment in time they’ll cherish forever. They don’t know it, but we will too.

We wish them the happiest life together.

 

 

Grandpa’s Wisdom

My daughters Mackenzie and Talee, both in their early twenties, were home this past weekend. We had wonderful family time — plenty of cooking, eating, shopping, and laughing.

Sunday night my parents came over for dinner. It was a perfect night to sit outside, so I set the patio table and lit citronella candles. We enjoyed a relaxed meal at sunset. It was nice for my parents to hear what’s going on in my girls’ lives, straight from them.

We got on the subject of dating. My husband asked our daughters what they were looking for in a man. Mackenzie said she wants a guy who’s fun, outgoing, a little edgy, and can appreciate that she enjoys working and wants to advance in her career. Talee wants someone who makes her laugh, likes to be active and is athletic, and a guy who will support her decision to be a stay at home mom. Both want husbands who love to be with family, because they’re so close to us. (I’m super happy and proud about this one!)

Our conversation got deeper and more complex. I noticed my parents nodding and smiling, while listening to their granddaughters’ wishlists. It ranged from appearance, to morals, to the location of their homes. My husband and I asked a lot of questions, trying to figure out which traits are important for their future grooms to possess.

After twenty minutes, I was exhausted thinking about all the things they want to find in a man, and what my husband and I think they should look for. It sounded so complicated.

Music was playing from the outdoor speakers. This is no joke — in the middle of our discussion, the song that came on was Meghan Trainor’s hit, “Dear Future Husband.” The girls and I looked at each other and laughed so hard.

Dessert was gobbled up and it was time for my parents to leave. We said our goodbyes in the kitchen. My husband and I started to walk toward the front door. We had taken just a few steps when we heard my dad talk to Mackenzie and Talee. We stopped around the corner, and he didn’t know we were there.

“Girls, don’t listen to your mom and dad. Just find someone you love.”

They giggled. My husband and I looked at each other and smiled.

I whispered, “He’s right, you know.”

My dad will be 88 in a few weeks. He likes things simple and old-fashioned. He and my mom have been married almost sixty years. I love hearing his golden nuggets of advice to our daughters. It helps keep them grounded, and remember what’s important.

Family. Love. Health. Laughter.

I hope and pray he gets to meet his granddaughters’ future husbands.

 

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