Another Goodbye

When a life has been full, lived to old age, years of memories made...saying goodbye is hard. But when a life is cut short, too many years yet to be lived...saying goodbye is almost impossible.

Noah was 10. He passed away in his sleep last night unexpectedly. He was a miracle in so many ways. He survived a stroke at birth; was never expected to walk or go to school. That's why the memory of him jumping off our boat into the lake and swimming around is even sweeter. That's why the sight of a backpack full of school supplies, ready and waiting by the front door is even harder to bear.

Noah's brother is Jake's best friend. Today, I saw my son be a true friend. I saw him give his friend a hug, knowing words were not needed, then put his arm around Samuel and take him to do whatever Samuel felt like doing. They ran and played and talked. And it was ok to be sad, it was ok to talk about Noah and remember what he was like.

We know that Noah is with Jesus...but his family is still here. Please pray for them.

Bun-Fest

We're celebrating bun-fest here in the Abrams' household. I recently baked buns for a day - seven batches, 16 per batch. That's 112 buns. We REALLY love buns.


We hosted a lunch here for all of Scott's extended family the day after his sister's wedding and homemade buns are so much better than store-bought. (It's Aunt Sharon's recipe - we like her buns best...)

Of course, while most of them made it into the freezer, a few took a detour. I mean, fresh buns, after all.



Since bun-fest was going on, I decided we might as well celebrate chicken-fest as well. 12 pounds of chicken in three crock pots; a little water, garlic salt, lipton onion soup mix and Italian salad dressing. Cook it forever and then shred it. Freeze all 27 cups. After all that, eat it with the buns from bun-fest. Yum. (Thanks to Aunt Lauri for that recipe!!)

I also celebrated corn-fest and froze 98 pints of sweet corn. Blech. Not my favorite celebration, but come January, I'll be glad I threw that party.

With this ring (and a whole bunch of weather), I thee wed.

It's finally over. One tornado warning, a few torrential downpours, one phone call to the police department, numerous gray hairs and a beautiful wedding ceremony later, we are finally decompressing.

It was stressful, a lot of work, but very well worth it.

Wednesday night: tent arrives; three guys put it up in 90 degree heat with about 98 percent humiditiy. They then jump in the lake to cool off.

Thursday: Becky, Brad, Janell and Janice arrive to begin preparations. The cake is made; the tent is decorated, tables and linens are picked up...we decide to go out for dinner. That is nixed when a huge storm blows through and we watch in horror as the tent lifts off the ground, settles back down, lifts off again...Scott is out in the downpour with twine and stakes. He knows in his head that it it probably pointless, but has to try anyway. God is good. The tent stays put, most of the decorations stay up. But the rain continues to fall....

Friday: Three inches of rain overnight. AAAARRRRGGGG!!! The tent has turned into a swamp area, thanks to the drainage of our sump pump. A quick trip to Menards and 75 feet of blue rubber hosing laster, the sump pump is rerouted down a hill. Brad shop-vacs the grass. Sara arrives to help (what a great sister!!) and gets right to work. We run errands like chickens with our heads cut off. Get home with minutes to spare before rehearsal. Hold the rehearsal in the driveway because the yard is too wet.

Friday night: Shelter house at the park is still locked (despite promises by the city that it would be unlocked at 5:30 for rehearsal dinner). Caterer is called and told to delay. 6:45, someone finally arrives to unlock it after we call the police department (non-emergency number, of course.) Grr. We eat, Sara and I leave to get the house cleaned up a little. AWESOME sister scrubs my kitchen floor for me - we were all sticking to it before that. She rocks.

Saturday dawns bright and clear. Things dry out a little. Six AM, we set out chairs for the ceremony, decorate the arch over the patio, put out linens, centerpieces, etc. etc. etc. Use generous amounts of duct tape to keep things from blowing in the wind. Take the sides of the tent down to let the breeze through. Put the sides of the tent up to stop the wind from wreaking havoc on the decor. Back down. Back up. (We lost count of how many times this happened during the course of the weekend.) Pictures begin. Pictures end. The clouds roll in. I pray and pray and pray and pray.... The wedding begins, a few sprinkles here and there. Wedding continues. Scott sneaks down to the beach to set off fireworks during "the kiss" and can't hear, so sets them off during "the prayer." Everyone giggles a bit. Finally, the kiss - more fireworks go off. They are finally married!! Appetizers on the patio...still sprinkling a bit. We rush like mad people to move all the chairs from the ceremony site to the tent for the reception. Get it done; herd everyone into the tent and it begins to pour. Whew. It rains while we eat, then clears off and stays nice and cool for the rest of the evening.

It really was lovely, but Maggie is eloping.

Ah, the After

Our house has been done for awhile, here's the "after" shot that I promised.


I love it. Scott doesn't like the dormers - he calls them a comb-over. Says they're deceptive. I call them an "architectural feature."

We both agree that we love our front porch. Haven't ever had a front porch before.

Come on over and sit on it with us sometime!

Perspective

Our family traveled to Iowa (God's country...) this past week to say "goodbye" to Grandma Schoon. What a blessing to be part of her legacy; she was quite a woman.

There are so many things I remember about Grandma and visiting her and Grandpa, especially on the farm. In fact, I had a dream not that long ago about the farm that was so vivid, I could remember what it smelled like when you walked through the door. (The one where you could either go to the basement, or up into the kitchen.)

I remember helping her use the old wringer washer to do laundry; making dancing ladies out of hollyhocks; picking strawberries (more made it into my mouth than the bucket...); the old booth in the kitchen where the crystal hanging in the window would cast rainbows all over the wall, while she fried okra, canned pickles or made something equally wonderful. I remember Grandma sledding with us behind the barn, helping us hunt for kittens and taking walks down to the bridge over the creek.

But I think what I will remember most about Grandma is how she always put things into perspective for me. I remember the poem above the kitchen sink..."Thank God for dirty dishes..." That poem is now on the back cover of a cookbook that I helped publish for Jake's class at school. I remember it every time I wash dishes. Perspective.

I remember when I was engaged and Scott and I were 600 miles apart; Grandma gave me a hug and told me she knew how I felt...and then told me that she used to lay in the lawn at night, look up at the stars and cry because she didn't know if Grandpa would even come back after the war, how most of his letters were completely blacked out when she got them, if she got them at all, and how excited she was when THREE YEARS after they were engaged, he finally came home and they were married. Perspective.

I remember after she really started to lose her sight, when she told me that it would be easy for her to feel useless, but when she prayed, she knew she wasn't useless. She said she knew the power of prayer and as long as she was still breathing, she could still do that. Perspective.

I miss my grandma. But I know that she is in heaven, seeing fully and reunited with Grandpa. And that's the best perspective of all.

Before, During and After.

Before.

During.

Oh, please, After, come soon!!! (Should be Monday...I'll post pictures!)