My mother turned 90 yesterday, and my seven siblings with spouses, as well as several granddaughters and great-granddaughters, travelled to Winnipeg to mark the milestone. Mom was born in the former USSR, in today’s Ukraine, in 1922, and fled Russia with her parents as a small child. She grew up on a farm near Winkler, Man. She enjoyed school. Her father was somewhat unusual in the Mennonite community of the time in that he insisted his five daughters get an education and profession. Three of them chose nursing, and two, including Mom, chose teaching. Mom left her teaching career when she married, but her teaching gifts continued to be exercised in various ways, not least of all as mother of eight children. Continue reading
I’m just coming off a wonderful week with our family. Instead of the usual two of us, the house filled with eleven more people — five adult children/spouses, and six grandchildren aged four months to nearly ten. For most of the week, we had warm autumn weather, allowing us to extend our interactions onto the deck and into the back yard. We played boce ball, put up a tent, swung on a rope swing, and jumped in leaves. The kids had planned a number of special activities such as an egg drop competition (teams tried to wrap a raw egg so it would survive ever higher drops) and pumpkin carving. We went to Birds Hill for a wiener roast and kite flying. Inside we read and played games and visited and ate.
I confess I’m always reluctant to get too buttery in my expressions around family life, lest they mask both its inherent challenges and its true splendor. But I’m so deeply grateful for this family, for each one in it, and for the relationships we enjoy. These (now) twelve other people are truly the best gifts to me, over and over. And not just in what they give me in their love and kindness, but also in what I see them giving each other. Continue reading
I’ve been thinking about home. I’m at home, so I guess what I’m really thinking about is being here – here in our so-and-so many square feet – and what that represents for me at the moment. Fall is in the air, for one thing, which means winter is coming, and winter is a time I love a lot. In winter home becomes even smaller and quite specific in being not the house and deck and garage and yard but the inside: these rooms, this furnace-provided warmth, these windows facing the low bright southern sun, these blinds against the early winter dark.
We’ve also been away for weeks at a time over the past months and now we’re home again without any immediate plans to leave. So I’ve been enjoying that too, settling back in with the projects centered in this place. One of those projects – more like an interval of particular happiness – concerns a week in October when our children and six grandchildren will all be coming “home” for a Thanksgiving family gathering. Continue reading