Category: Family

On Saturday we celebrated Kaspar’s first nine months of life outside the womb.  It is difficult to grasp just how quickly these months have flow in comparison to the nine months we waited for his arrival!

Perhaps it was because during his first nine months of life, we couldn’t see him, we only saw the effect his growth and development had on Maggie’s body.  We even got a glimpse of him before birth via his ultrasounds but our interaction to him was second-hand, Maggie was the only one who had a relationship with him.

Then he was born and we began to know him as not only Kaspar, Maggie and Jan’s baby, but as Kaspar the tiny human being with his own distinct  personality. Getting to know and understand his wants and needs was a process, It wasn’t always easy and we all had successes and failures with steps forward and back all along the way.

Now, at nine months, we are beginning to know who Kaspar is.  On the positive side, he is sweet and he is cuddly.  He is inquisitive and quick to learn.  He is social and takes in everything around him.  He plays well with himself and is very entertaining.  On the other hand, Kaspar is intolerant of footwear and lets us know is his strongest voice that he does not want to wear sturdy shoes, no matter how cute.  He also has some other very strong fashion dislikes including woven button-down shirts.

As he tries new foods, he likes to eat french fries and sweet potatoes but prefers to squish bananas between his fingers to eating them and likes to suck on lime wedges, but isn’t so keen on getting the lime juice in his eyes!  He is also showing signs that he is ready to bond with Mabel, the family dog.  Already she has learned that Kaspar provides many treats under his high chair and he is learning that if he bends over the side he can drop the food for her.

I realized this morning as I’m plunking away at the keys that getting to know my newest grandson has been a lot like getting to know God.

As a child, I learned about God’s presence and was told I would someday get to know him. But it wasn’t until I was older that I began to see the marvels of God’s work, especially in Nature.  As I’ve matured, I’ve gotten to really know God and love him for all he is in my life.

And, like getting to know a baby, it hasn’t always been easy to know God and to understand what God wants for me.  I’ve had successes and failures along the way.  I’ve moved forward and moved back, sometimes more back than forward.

But, with all the up and downs I am secure in my relationship and trust in God. And just like Kaspar looks toward Maggie and Jan for reassurance when he is unsure of something in his life, I turn to God for the same in mine. Wow.

I wonder what else I will learn in Kaspar’s next nine months as he transitions from baby to toddler!

I have been blessed with three grandsons (so far).  Each provides me with an abundance of love and fills my heart with pride.  I love watching them grow and develop from tiny babies with scrunched up red faces and bodies into little people with unique personalities and perspectives.  Each child entered my life in a very different manner but each in his own way, each have become a part of me through the Grace of God.

My oldest grandson, Seth, will be fifteen in May.  Our relation is one of blood, but also of sweat and many tears.  Maggie had just started college when she learned she was expecting him and knowing she wasn’t ready to be a parent, wanted to offer him to a couple who were ready but were unable to have children of their own.  The Spirit led us to his parents, Jim and Bonnie Berryman and then guided us all into a remarkable family relationship that surprises many but has blessed us all.

I’ll never forget the night he was born.  After months of worrying and praying and trusting and worrying some more, Seth Peter emerged from the comfort of his birth-mother’s womb into a room where his mother, father, Nana and Poppa all waiting to greet him.  The five of us took turns holding him, silently promising to love him and watch over him throughout his life.

Having the opportunity to watch Seth grow and remain a part of our family has been a tremendous blessing for me.  I’ve never had to wonder where he is or how he’s doing because over the years I’ve been there.  At the same time, I’ve been able to watch my own child, his birth mother, continue to mature into a remarkable young woman without the responsibility of raising a child she wasn’t ready for.  What an amazing gift he has been!

Number two grandson, Caleb, entered my life is a variation of Seth’s story.  Almost two years after Seth was born, I received a call from the social worker who had assisted Maggie through her adoption process asking if I would be willing to chat with another family who were exploring open adoption for their daughter who like Maggie, was not ready to accept the responsibility of parenthood.  Until then, I was unaware that we had been the only family the Catholic Charities agency in our town had assisted in a fully open adoption.  I’ve always been a firm believer that many of our experiences should be shared, I agreed.

As the social worker relayed the contact information for the family, I realized that these were not strangers, but church friends we hadn’t seen in many years. We were both Navy families so the coming and going out of each other’s lives was a familiar tale.   I felt a tiny tug in my gut as I remembered that feeling of uncertainty in the early days of Maggie’s pregnancy before we met Jim and Bonnie and didn’t have even a glimpse at the end of the tunnel.  I didn’t waste any time in contacting my friend Karen and setting up a time for us all to get together.

Meanwhile, totally off my radar, our social worker contacted Jim and Bonnie to see if they were interested in increasing the size of their family. As it turned out, they were they only couple in their files willing to entertain a fully open adoption.  So, through the grace of God and the action of the Holy Spirit, Caleb Ian also became a part of our family.

A few years ago, when he was old enough to notice differences, Caleb asked me how I could be his Nana when I wasn’t his mother’s mother or his birth-mother’s mother.  I told him I considered myself his Nana from the day he was born and always loved him as a grandson.  As far as I was concerned, family is about who you love, not genetics.

And that’s how things were for thirteen years, I’ve been Nana to two growing boys.  Along with their Poppa, we have enjoyed almost every minute we’ve spent with our “little”  guys; after all, no one is fun all the time.   And, like all proper Nana’s, I have hundreds of photos chronicling our lives together through Dedications, birthdays, Holidays, and vacations.

This past August, a new young man entered all of our lives, grandson #3; Kaspar Arwed.

Kaspar’s arrival into our lives has a much less interesting story than those of Seth and Caleb.  He was born just shy of two years after his parents, Maggie and Jan were married.  There were no concerns about where he would live or who would raise him and except for his slightly unusual name, there isn’t much uncommon about him.  He is of course the world’s cutest and smartest baby (a title he has clearly inherited from his two older brothers).

It could be that I’m just older and the distance in time between the births of the older two boys, and especially my own baby boy, Andy, but it seems that each milestone Kaspar makes as he steps into the second half of his first year is one small step for mankind.  (Yes, I am unabashedly comparing Kaspar’s ability to stand on his tip toes in his baby seat to Neal Armstrong’s first step on the moon.)

My love for these three young men is limitless and boundless.  Regardless of who arrived first, second or third, who is a blood relation or not, or who I am able to see more often.  My heart has made a Covenant with these guys, like it or not.  They will be my Grandsons and I will be their Nana!

Late this afternoon Dave and I returned from a weeklong visit with my family in Georgia.  Over the next few days I’ll be unpacking not only my luggage but also a huge load of memories. Dave decided to work out the kinks of sitting in the car by cutting the grass while I am starting deal with all the dirty clothes we accumulated.  Thankfully my memory pile is much larger than my laundry pile, so I have lots of things to share.  Here is one of  them.

A couple of nights ago, my Dad, Dave and I were sitting on my parents’ front porch enjoying the cool of the evening watching the comings and goings of the birds at their feeders and chatting about all kinds of things, past, present and future.  Unexpectedly, a rain shower popped up, interrupting our bird watching and changing the tenor of the conversation.

As the rain drops rhythmically tapped on the porch roof, Dad began to recall his role as a young father with a sad note of regret.  He said he’d wished he hadn’t been so hard on us kids.  It made me sad to think he thought he had failed as a father in any way.  He has always been the epitome of what a dad should be.

I guess I never thought of my Dad as tough.  I saw him as a man with high expectations for his children and the expectations were more about core values than personal success.  There was never any ambiguity about how any of us were expected to behave and there was little or no bartering.  He and Mom were in charge.  Honestly, I don’t know how else they could have managed so many of us.  The lack of clear leadership would have resulted in bedlam!

Dad worked hard for his family, putting aside his own needs and wants to ensure we were all properly cared for.  One year he skipped his lunch for months to save enough money to buy four of us bikes for Christmas.  I never knew this until the other night, but it is an example of what kind of father he was to us.

My dad could fix anything; plumbing, electrical stuff, carpentry.  He even built a large addition to our home.  In fact, the only time I can recall our ever calling a repairman into our home was when the television went on the blink.  In my wee youth, TVs were full of long glass tubes and every once in a while, one would blow and our local repairman, Junior would come out to the house with a couple of large black cases full of tubes and a bright light he’d position in the back of the set to help him diagnose the problem once he removed the back of the set.  As a five-year old, it was a sight to see!

From watching my Dad at work around the house, I learned so many things that most women my age don’t.  I not only know the names of the basic tools in  a household toolbox, but I can and have used most of them more than once.  As long as I have directions, I have confidence I can tackle most household repairs.  These days I prefer not to, having gone down more than one rabbit hole on a plumbing project, but nonetheless, if need be, I can thanks to my dad.

Most of all, my dad has proved his love and devotion for our family in countless ways, no more so than in the sharing of a marriage with my mom which has lasted more than 60 years.  Modeling a loving marriage for us has been a precious gift.

Yeah, my dad was tough on us.  He loved us, sheltered us, fed us, clothed us, and chauffeured us to umpteen million activities.  He taught us how to talk to people with respect, how to behave, how to discern wants from needs, how to solve problems and how to work for something you really want.  In return, he expected us to be honest, well-behaved and helpful.

Many years ago while attending a workshop at church, I heard a priest make the comment that a person’s view of God is in large part shaped by what kind of father they have.  In this respect, I know just how lucky I’ve been to have John Farner as my dad.  My dad’s example has allowed me to see God as loving, kind, approachable, giving, forgiving, funny and constant. Because of the unconditional love he has shown me, I can accept the God’s loving embrace as naturally as I can one from my dad.

Honestly Dad, if you were tough on me, I just don’t remember it that way.  I know I wouldn’t have become the person I am today without the guidance I received from you and Mom.  I suppose you used the right amount of tough because whenever I think about growing up in our home, all I ever remember is how much you loved me and how much I loved you.  And I still do.  XOXOXOXO!