You’re dying to know what an oof-da taco is, aren’t you?
Well then, why are you just sitting there? You’ll only find out on Peace Garden Writer!
There – that’s more like it. See you soon!
PGM
mama mondays: mother’s day treasures 2012
I wrote recently in a column how Mother’s Day is of greater significance to me these days than my own birthday, since it came to me through a labor of love and sacrifice, whereas my own birth and life can be attributed to MY mother’s (and father’s) love and sacrifice.
To all of you mothers, spiritual and earthly alike (that covers every female who has ever nurtured another), I hope you had a most wonderful day. It’s a time to celebrate the lives we’ve lives we’ve been given and, because of that, helped to create.
I hope you enjoy my Mother’s Day weekend visual tour!
The beautiful weekend began with a handmade invitation.
This is the fifth such invitation I’ve received, and likely the last now that my baby has reached first grade. The May Crowning (of Mary) and Mother’s Day Tea organized by Mrs. Eppler and the first-graders at Nativity school is, and will forever be, one of my most cherished memories of motherhood.
The event includes being greeted in the hall by your child holding a rose, led into a candle-lit room, seeing the children dressed in their Sunday best and reverently singing and praying, watching them sweetly doing sign language to “Mary Did You Know,” being treated to tea and cookies, handmade gifts and the grand finale – a slideshow of the kids’ whole year…wow.
Mrs. Eppler prepares for this day all year long and it’s such a gift to us mothers. There’s never a dry eye by the end. “Mom, I love you to heaven and back,” was Nick’s ending contribution in the video part of the show. (Did you hear that? It’s the sound of my heart melting…) This event has helped raised my appreciation even more for the gift of motherhood.
Included was a cork board filled with portraits the kids had done of their mothers. Here’s Nick’s depiction of me. I love his rainbow-colored “Mom” label. He also was very detailed with every strand of hair.
This poppy painting on canvas was one of the gifts I received, along with a copy of the slideshow on compact disc and a homemade card.
The card…
reads…
“Dear Mom, you are as pretty as a Daisy. you are as strong as a gerila you are as Loveabele as a 1 year old puppy. You are as happy as a puppy seeing his or her mother for the first time. Happy mothers’ day I love you. Nick”
I promised Nick we’d go out for “after tea coffee” in the hour before school let out that followed the event. He enjoyed every sloppy sip
A dear mother friend, who has been like a spiritual mentor to me, is one of the most thoughtful people on the earth. She sent this a few days prior, despite the fact that her son was about to undergo major surgery. Ladybug and flower cookies…yum!
A mom doesn’t rest long. Before heading into the weekend, which promised more surprises and fun, we had to get ready for soccer pictures and practice Friday afternoon.
Right after that, it was time for my sweet friend Betty’s graduation party. This Ethiopian native realized a longtime dream and now has her master’s degree! Two of my lovely friends reached the grad-degree milestone this year. I am so proud of Betty and Mary!
At her party, Betty had the article I wrote about her a few months back displayed and framed. I was tickled to see it and know I’d helped create something that will be cherished.
Saturday night, my friend Reta and I met out on the patio at Monte’s restaurant downtown Fargo. We shared two desserts — chocolate creme brulee and this lovely lemon layered delicacy.
We found out the day before that a mama friend, Monica, and her sister was playing/singing downtown, so we wandered over there, too, making our way through the crowd of zombies in town for the Zombie Crawl. It made for an interesting outing, and we had front-row seats.
Mid-morning, and not a moment earlier, my younger four kids came into my room to share more treasures, starting my morning out right with chocolate-covered espresso beans, a cookies and cream Hershey’s bar and an assortment of cards. The one Olivia picked out says: “Some Mother’s Day Advice…Sometimes the best thing to do is just look in the mirror and say, ‘What shoes go with this stress?’” Cute, and true.
My youngest had a $10 bill, a rarity to him. He chose to use his own money to buy the candy bar and this rose, which, to me, says “I love you Mom” like nothing else.
And here we all are on our new couch, which was delivered on Friday. Finally, a couch that will accommodate all seven of us for Family Movie Night!
I am one blessed mama! Thanks, Mom, for giving me life, so that I could in turn give life to others.
This poem was posted by Heather King on her “Shirt of Flame” blog. This bittersweet poem speaks of the circle of life and of a mother’s and child’s precious relationship:
In Memoriam M.K.H., 1911-1984
When all the others were away at Mass
I was all hers as we peeled potatoes.
They broke the silence, let fall one by one
Like solder weeping off the soldering iron:
Cold comforts set between us, things to share
Gleaming in a bucket of clean water.
And again let fall. Little pleasant splashes
From each other’s work would bring us to our senses.
So while the parish priest at her bedside
Went hammer and tongs at the prayers for the dying
And some were responding and some crying
I remembered her head bent towards my head,
Her breath in mine, our fluent dipping knives–
Never closer the whole rest of our lives.
–Seamus Heaney
faith fridays: ‘because she’s happy’
I remember, as a child, seeing someone on television crying, and I couldn’t figure out why. Everything about the circumstances seemed festive, positive. It might even have been Miss America accepting her crown.
What was the deal with the tears? I had know.
“Why is she crying mommy?” I asked.
“Because she’s happy.”
Now I was really confused! Of course, as an adult, I understand the concept of tears of joy. Or, as the case was for me this past weekend, tears of joyful gratitude.
I hadn’t expected the faucet to turn on in the middle of my son’s First Eucharist celebration. But it happened just the same.
He’d told me after rehearsal a few nights earlier that because of his last name, he would be sitting in the very last row of children that day.
“But you know what the good thing is?” he said. “I get to help carry up the gifts.”
I heard the words, but until the moment actually came, it didn’t truly sink in. My son, by default of his last name, had been chosen with three other kids to bring up the bread and wine that would become Jesus’ body and blood — and on the day he would receive that Sacrament for the very first time.
I can’t imagine a better reason for being last. “The last shall be first.” Indeed.
But in all of the excitement of the celebration, I’d forgotten his quiet utterance from a few nights before. So when I saw my friend, Rita, come out of nowhere and tap my guy and his three comrades on the shoulder, I was confused for a moment. Had they done something wrong?
The cue was received, and they stood up dutifully to get in position, walking through the throngs of parents and other family members to the back of the church to gather the gifts.
Watching my son process up the church aisle in his sharp, black suit with the others to offer these treasures to the Bishop had to have been a highlight of my mothering years. It was a moment when I couldn’t hold back. The tear ducts opened and, unable to control them, I just let them fall where they may.
It might seem I’m being overly dramatic. But please understand that to me, what happened was pure gift. Not something to be proud over so much (though I was proud of how reverently my son handled his duty), but an unexpected gift to be humbly received.
Life doesn’t always feel this pure and good. There are tough times to be had in a busy, lively, growing family in this world. Sometimes, the gems are covered up for long periods of time.
Oftentimes, like this past weekend, they come at an unexpected moment. And when they appear upon the surface like the sun on the morning horizon, for no reason other than God’s unconditional love, it’s hard to dismiss them as something other than a small miracle.
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| Adam “Joseph” after receiving Jesus with his godmother and me |
Thank you, God, for loving me and my family, despite our imperfections. Thank you for my son and what he’s just experienced. And thank you for reaching my heart, too, on his special day.
Q4U: When have your tears come from deep-seated gratitude?
writing wednesdays: awards night revealed
I promised I’d tell you about my big night from a few weekends ago. Today you can finally read all about it on Peace Garden Writer.
(To make it really worth your while, I’m even going to let you in on some top-secret revelations.)
Seriously, though, more than hearing about my fun night, I’m hoping you’ll learn why entering contests can be so helpful to a writer.
See ya there!
mama mondays: beyond baptism – parting of clouds
This past weekend was filled with blessed moments. It was the kind of weekend we’ll be recalling long into the future.
After days and days of clouds, the light came through just in time for our fourth child’s embracing of his faith through Confirmation and Holy Eucharist.
Lots of photos to share today. They do better at telling the story. I’ll keep my comments brief so it’s not too much to take in.
Here’s Adam coming into the pew. His name tag bears the name “Joseph,” his Confirmation name. When the Bishop confirms him, he will be called Joseph, not Adam. (See the other boys, Troy, Nick and Christian just behind him.) We had really great seats, right behind our little guy. Oh, he was handsome! Melted my mommy heart.
I loved all the hands that went up as Bishop Samuel Aquila asked the kids about the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit (see Isaiah 11:2-3). Do you remember them? Let’s see if I can do them justice: wisdom, counsel, piety, understanding, fear of the Lord, fortitude and knowledge.
We were reminded that it’s just the beginning still; we have our whole lives to build on these gifts, and will need to rely on them throughout our lives as Christians.
The whole thing lasted nearly three hours, from the time they had to be there to gather with sponsors to the very end. Adam, and all the kids really, did a great job of hanging in there.
This is the point at which the kids and their sponsors met up again to process toward the Bishop to be sealed with the Holy Spirit. Adam’s godfather is on the other side of the aisle in the black suit.
When it was time to bring up the gifts — the bread and wine — one of the helpers came to Adam’s pew to summon him and three others in the back row, who’d been selected to present the gifts. I did not take a photo of that. I was too busy shedding tears. Yes, I can get pretty emotional in times like this. So much heartache at times, in our family, and yet, there are these moments of cloud-parting that grab hold of my heart and give me the biggest burst of hope and joy.
At the end of a long Mass, it’s nice to have special people to hang out with while waiting for pictures with the Bishop. Thanks for coming, Grandma Bev (and Grandpa Roger, too)!
Confirmation cake is an especially sweet way to end the evening…
Today, I am a happy and proud mama. Can you tell? Here we are at the end of the Mass — Adam, me and his godmother, Mary Kay.
It is amazing to me how easily I can recall the beginnings of this journey:
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| 1-19-03 – Baptism of Adam Salonen with godparents Don & Mary Kay Schott |
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| 5-6-12 – Confirmation/First Eucharist Day with godparents |
If the next nine years go as quickly as these first nine with our sweet guy, I’m thinking I’d better keep my eyes from blinking for the next couple years!
I’ll end with the prayer the Bishop taught the kids today: “Jesus help me to know you and to receive your love for me today.”
Q4U: How did Jesus show you His love for you this weekend?
faith fridays: sacraments
This photos melts my heart. It’s my sweet Adam entering into new life through Baptism. As much as anything else, I think, I enjoy the interested looks from his oldest two siblings. New life is exciting stuff!
Just tonight, that same “baby” took a shower by himself, declaring he doesn’t like night showers because then he has to sleep with wet hair. I told him about the towel trick — to put a towel on his pillow to at least soak up some of the moisture. He’s an information guy like I’m an information gal and he seemed pleased to have this new option.
He’s 9 now, and still as precious to me as that day. Adam is our child whose basic disposition is calmer, more thoughtful and thought-filled than most of the Salonens — in general, anyway. He’s always been a bundle of sweetness and even though all our kids have special qualities about them, I’ve always felt an abundance of grace emanating from this little guy.
This weekend he’ll take the next step in his Christian journey. He’ll be our fourth child to receive First Holy Eucharist and be confirmed in the Catholic faith as a third-grader. Our firstborn, Christian, was among the very first crop of younger confirmants in our diocese.
There are all sorts of opinions as to whether children should receive these Sacraments this early. Bottom line, Confirmation is a Sacrament of Initiation, not a graduation. And in the early church, the two were very close together, initially one after the other, and only separated more and more as time went on. Our current bishop wanted to get closer to the original intent, so here we are.
The other thing that needs to be understood, perhaps above all else, is that a Sacrament is a grace that helps the person be strengthened in his or her Christian journey. If you knew you could be strengthened to put on the armor of Christ at an early age but also had the choice to wait years later, what would the purpose be? Why not have access to them earlier if they’re being offered? I realize different denominations approach this differently, but for Catholics, this isn’t much different than the idea of infant Baptism. Grace is grace, and even an infant can feel and respond to its effects.
For those reasons, I like this earlier Confirmation deal. And I’m looking forward to this weekend’s celebration. Our son has a wonderful sponsor, his godfather, and has chosen the name “Joseph” as his Confirmation name.
Q4U: What are your thoughts about offering these Sacraments earlier rather than later? I’d love to discuss, even if your thoughts are different than mine.
writing wednesdays: mother stuff
If you’re a mother, or have a mother, or know a mother, or…well, you get the drift…lilt over to my writer blog, Peace Garden Writer, to read my thoughts on the month of May as it relates to us mom-types. I hope you’ll enjoy!
The regularly schedule post with some fun news has been postponed until a lighter work week — hopefully next week. Good news never grows stale, in my estimation! Hope you’ll come back then. PGM
mama mondays: rediscovering big boy
What a weekend! I spent it in the lovely city of Bismarck — a place I have known fairly well since childhood. I love Fargo, but Bismarck ranks pretty high on my list of favorite cities, too.
I’ll write more about the exciting things that took place over the weekend on Wednesday. For now, I have to share what happened in the final hour of my adventure with my two daughters in North Dakota’s capitol city.
Long story short, I rediscovered Big Boy.
If you’ve never had the pleasure of eating a pizza burger flying-style, or french fries lathered in gravy, or a purple cow shake, you really haven’t lived. Big Boy has all of these and more! And you have to admit, he’s pretty cute besides. I mean, no one does that 50s-style “do” better than BB.
Pizza burger with a few bites already gulped down. But the most exciting moment, by far, was when I revisited a taste from childhood I thought would never return — the “hot n tot,” or, cinnamon cola. Oh my, it was lovely going down memory lane through each sip of tot. I can’t figure out why this drink hasn’t gone mainstream. The world is lacking!
It took me a while to find the restaurant. I remember going there as a girl, but boy, it’s been years. I had a sense as to where it was, but still needed my smartphone to tell me the exact quadrants. I was so happy when I saw it tucked away in a part of town that used to be the hot-n-tot spot to be.
On the way there, we ran into another 50s-type-drive-in that had not done so well. It looked lonely, with paint peeling but car port still intact. I think it was called Sammy’s Drive-in.
Which is why I was so giddy to have found that Big Boy had survived all these years. Truly, this is something to celebrate. I’m just trying to figure out, now, how to convince the Coca Cola company to revive the hot-n-tot. I would be the first in line to buy the first 24-pack. Seriously.
Q4U: When was the last time you went down memory lane? How did it make you feel?
faith fridays: the encore
Sometimes, someone says or writes something that causes me to look at a certain thing anew, never to return to the former.
Such is the case with how G.K. Chesterton has raised my appreciation for life; by virtue of sharing how he arrived at belief in God from a position of disbelief.
Namely, I’m talking about what can be summed up in two words: the encore.
Are you ready to see something anew?
On page 57 of Orthodoxy, Chesterton makes the bold statement that materialism rests ultimately upon a false assumption. That assumption being that if a thing repeats itself it is probably dead.
“People feel that if the universe was personal it would vary; if the sun were alive it would dance,” he explains. “This is a fallacy even in relation to known fact. For the variation in human affairs is generally brought into them, not by life, but by death; by the dying down or breaking off of their strength or desire.”
Huh, you say? Hang on. Let’s see where he’s going.
“A man varies his movements because of some slight element of failure or fatigue. He gets into an omnibus because he is tired of walking; or he walks because he is tired of sitting still. But if his life were so gigantic that he never got tired of going to Islington, he might go to Islington as regularly as the Thames goes to Sheerness.”
To further make the point, Chesterton brings in the ever-rising sun. “I do not rise every morning,” he says, “but the variation is due not to my activity, but to my inaction.” In other words, he says, the routine of the sun might be due not to a lifelessness, but to a rush of life.
Cool huh?
To expound, he speaks of children who, when finding a game they enjoy, kick their legs rhythmically, not through absence of life but through excess of it. “Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, ‘Do it again,’ and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead.”
Grown-ups are not strong enough to exult in monotony, he says, but perhaps God is.
“It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.”
(I love Chesterton’s mind-blowing images! I can totally see God as a giddy infant wanting to “do it again!”)
Chesterton concludes, rather dramatically, “The reptition in Nature may not be a mere recurrence; it may be a theatrical encore.”
Ah! The encore.
Indeed, Chesterton says, “at the end of every human drama man is called again and again before the curtain. Repetition may go on for millions of years, by mere choice, and at any instant it may stop. Man may stand on the earth generation after generation, and yet each birth be his positively last appearance.
And there’s where my mouth drops, and I realize again that each moment is a gift, not guaranteed. Each act of ours is possibly the last, or not.
In that realization, I come back around to the fact that we are here because God has willed it, out of sheer love, and only because of that.
What will we do with the encore God has offered us? The encore of one more day, one more hour, one more second? The stage is ours, and for this day at least, we can make of it what we will.
I don’t know about you, but I feel like I want my performance to be stellar. Not perfect, perhaps, but I want the audience to leave feeling as if their hearts have been indelibly changed.
For this moment, it is enough to say thanks, Mr. Chesterton, for helping increase my appreciation for this wonderful life I’m blessed enough to be living out.
Q4U: What helped you appreciate life more this week?
writing wednesdays: dirty fingernails
Yes, my son had dirty fingernails, and they made it into a published photo anyway. To me, the dirt just makes it all the more real. Besides, you wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t told you, would you have?
Confused? Go see Peace Garden Writer. It will all become clear soon…
