They Came, They Went, They Are Missed

They left Virginia at 8 a.m. and arrived at our house in Missouri at 10:30 p.m., exactly one week ago today.  Then on Sunday afternoon, they got back into their black Equinox to do it all over again. My parents, brother and their wild cockapoo (no, I'm serious, he's wild -- my sister and I are considering writing a series of books called "Rudy's Adventures") drove 29 hours roundtrip, to see us for just a few days over the holidays.

If that doesn't spell L-O-V-E, I don't know what does.

We didn't do anything special while they were here.  We ate well -- an Italian feast of penne, sausage and meatballs on Thursday night, Chinese food on New Year's Eve and on National College Football Day When Lots of Creepy Business Execs Get Rich off of Public and Private Universities and Their Unsuspecting Fans  New Year's Day, John Madden's beef stew.

We rested.  Played Uno.  Built fires.  Worked on a puzzle.  Laughed a lot.

We stayed up until exactly 12:01 a.m. on New Year's Eve, at which point we realized we had missed watching the ball drop (note to self: in the Midwest the ball drops at 11 p.m.), and so we stumbled to our beds, shut our eyes, and snored our way into 2011.

On New Year's Day my family cheered me on as I competed in my first 5K in almost a year, and my first ever not pushing a stroller.  It was awesome to see Joe and the boys, my parents and brother cheering me on as I crossed the finish line.   Even Brandy Rose was there.  Despite a lack of sleep and MSG-induced dizziness, I recorded my fastest time ever (a 9:56 minute mile), most likely the result of trying to impress my brother. (Or it may have been the blue running tights, not sure.)

We watched a lot of football since, as I previously mentioned, it was National Get Rich Weekend for Tostitos, Capital One, Outback, Hyundai, Auto Zone, Vizio and Many, Many Other Companies  New Year's weekend and there were college bowl games galore on TV.

(Last week I relented and finally called DirecTV in anticipation of the Big Visit.  I couldn't bear the thought of my dad and brother being deprived of football during their stay at my house.)

Of course there are practical reasons, too, why it's nice to have family visit. Mom helped me pick out curtain rods, helped me think about how to arrange furniture, and informed me that I have Oak and Black Walnut trees in my yard, and two very tall Rhododendron bushes (not Magnolia trees as I'd once thought -- oops) in back of our house.   She even bought me the matching bench to our new table that I had been eyeing for the last three months. Thanks Mom!

Dad assembled the new bench, hung the newly-purchased curtain rods, fixed two doors that weren't shutting properly, and gave important boy-scout-esque tips for finding dry kindling when it's wet outside.  (Inspired, I think, by "Grandpa's" work ethic, Joe cleaned the fallen leaves off the back deck and fixed the faucet on our kitchen sink.)

It was especially good to see my brother, Uncle Ben, who played Hotwheels, basketball, football, baseball, and LOTS of video games with Christian. It was encouraging to see that he is doing well, and feeling better.

Well, sort of.

Wait a minute.

Ah.  There we go.  See?  Isn't he handsome?

Best of all though, seeing family provides a sense of connection, belonging and self-worth that nothing else in this earthly journey can.  Being with my parents and brother was an important reminder that even though I'm in this new place, out here in the middle of nowhere, where only a few people know who I am, and even fewer really know what I'm about, that there are people who care, who know and who love me.

I belong to them. They belong to me.

Even if no one else in the world were to care about us, we would still matter to each other.

But now they are gone (*sigh*) and it's back to Facebook, Twitter and this blog, as I attempt to reestablish and recreate the connection that is lost in their absence.  The connection that is deeply desired and yet will never be duplicated by comments, wall posts or @mentions (though these help and are much anticipated).

Virginia visitors -- you are missed.  Your hugs and help, presence and presents were hands-down the highlight of my holiday season.

{What was yours? And yes, I really do appreciate comments.}

Signs That You May Be Spending the Holidays in a New Place

1.  Instead of being annoyed when people ask for your address, you get excited because it means you may actually get a few Christmas cards at your new house.

2.  You wrapped most of your gifts using clear packing tape. It was readily available and besides, no one will notice, right?  The regular tape could not be located and you refused to purchase more because you were sure you remembered having several rolls somewhere -- seven months ago when you packed up your old house. 

3.  This holiday season is stressful in different ways. Like not knowing where to buy a box of donuts for your coworkers the last week of work. (Poplar Bluff really needs a Dunkin Donuts.) 

4. You were overjoyed to finally be out of all the boxes.  Until, a few days later, you were wrapping a pile of gifts that needed to be shipped in ... Boxes. 

Home Sweet Home

In a rare few moments of quiet this morning (the boys were already strapped into their car seats in the van) Joe and I sat down at our kitchen table (well, Joe sat, I was filling up my travel coffee mug) to write out our first mortgage payment. 

Whoa. 

There have been several oh-my-goodness-we-are-homeowners moments in the last 33 days since we closed on our first house. But this moment quite possibly tops them all. 

Possibly.

Naturally, signing the papers and getting the keys were BIG moments, too.

Getting the long-awaited keys on Oct. 14, 2010

Welcome to the Midwest?

Being new in town we've heard the phrase, "Welcome to the Midwest!" quite a lot recently.  It's awfully nice of folks to welcome us here, and yet I find the phrase curious and unexpected.  The Midwest? 

My mother is from North Dakota and my father grew up in Minnesota.  I started grade school in South Dakota and my sister Brooke was born in Wisconsin.  I have relatives in Illinois and Ohio.  My brother-in-law is from Michigan.  I thought I knew all about the Midwest.  Then we moved to Southeast Missouri.

Here in Poplar Bluff, people say "ya'll," not "you guys." Farmers in the region grow cotton, not sunflowers. It is 76 degrees today, and we are in the month of NOVEMBER.  Does that sound like the Midwest to you?

In the Midwest that I know, iced tea comes unsweetened, 50 degrees is considered "shorts weather" and November in Minneapolis? Well, let's just say those urban Minnesotans are thankful for the skyways.

Grazie Papa!

Thank you Papa for your visit, and for the wonderful grandfather and father you are to our family.  We love you for so many reasons....

• You didn't (and never would) allow 1322 miles, two plane rides and a three-hour car trip, one-way, keep you from being our first visitor in Poplar Bluff.  I think we could probably move to China and expect a visit from you within our first few months.  (I guess it's a good thing they don't have college baseball in China.)
• You can do kitchen "renovations" with a flat head screwdriver and a butter knife.
• You make errands -- even the annoying, multiple trips to Wal-Mart and Sears -- FUN.
• You never miss an opportunity to get a McDonald's ice cream cone.
• You are one of the few people we know who can get a tan at a two-hour baseball game ... in October.

• You are one of the most generous people we know.
• You keep the family connected through the photos on your i-phone.
• You give the best hugs, and sometimes you squeeze our cheeks, too.
• You are good at vacuuming, moving cribs, assembling chairs and sleeping on an air mattress.
• You are proud of us and it shows.
• You love us at our worst.
• You point us to Christ.
• And you enjoy the hayrides as much as your grandsons do.

Ti vogliamo bene Papa!

Birthday Reflections

Another birthday means another year in the books.  What will I remember as I flip through the pages of my life’s 33^rd chapter?   As I reflect on the last year, sometimes it is hard to sift out the stand-out moments from the everyday ordinariness of life and work. 

I have been crying, or on the verge of tears, most of this last week.  I’ve been complaining to my husband about the difficulties of having recently moved to a new place, whining about the things I don’t like about it here in Poplar Bluff and wallowing in self-pity.  Last night though, was the worst.  I fell apart. 

Joe and I were standing in the kitchen.  The dinner dishes had all been cleaned and put away.  Our two boys were quietly in their beds for the night.  The kitchen was dark but for the light over the stove.  Everything in the house was peaceful, yet inside my heart was a category-5 hurricane rapidly approaching land.