Ringing Out 2014: A Photo Montage

In a break with a long family tradition, I did not send out a Christmas letter or a Christmas card this year. I do not think I sent them out last year either. It has not been a priority. I blogged intermittently: too much real life happening here. 

When I spied this link up,  however, I figured I would do that.This was the year our older son graduated from high school and we launched him into college, and the year our younger son switched high schools. 

We all traveled a lot this year; my husband went as far west as Portland, Oregon  and our older son spent two weeks in Valencia, Spain. I spent time this year in Virginia, Vermont, Indiana, Florida, North Carolina, Massachusetts, Texas and New York. 

Midway through the year, I lost a treasured spiritual guide. 

I joined Weight Watchers, our parish choir (with our younger son) and finished a half marathon, (with my husband). When I was culling through photos to mark our year, I realized most of my fondest memories come  from right here in central New Jersey. 

Happy new year to my friends old and new. 

 "Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,

The flying cloud, the frosty light.

The year is dying in the night;

Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

The year is dying in the night;

Ring out, wild bells, and let him die."

How To Make Iced Latte Without Ice

I was inspired this afternoon to make an iced latte, following the directions of Danielle Walker, on her wonderful blog, Against All Grain. 

This, my friends, is not what my iced latte looked like:

In Princeton: Grace-filled Moments at Vocal Music Camp

I apologize in advance if this entire post sounds like an advertisement. I am not on commission from the Westminster Choir College in Princeton, New Jersey!  Our 14-year-old son, who discovered he's a bass not a tenor,  just spent two weeks at Westminster's Vocal Institute, sleeping in the dorms of this school and spending his days singing with 101 other high school students, who traveled as far as Florida to attend. If you have a child with a penchant for singing,  and money in your family budget (there are also scholarships available) consider this camp.  It was truly transformative for our son. Dr. Amanda Quist started the Vocal Institute four years ago with 50 students. Given the state of our economy, it's quite a testament to her and the other professionals that it was doubled in size already.

The Fault in Our Stars: Heartbreaking and Beautiful

Perhaps I am the last English-speaking person on the planet to read The Fault in Our Stars, the young adult novel about two teens with cancer who fall in love.  But I am glad I got around to it. This beautiful book will break your heart.

Well, I haven't actually read the novel; I listened to it on my iphone yesterday and today as I drove from Indianapolis back to my home in New Jersey. I had spent the week in Indianapolis, attending a conference called "Teaching Teachers to Teach Kurt Vonnegut."

A New School, A Walk in the Dark

We journey with our children. We walk with them as they face whatever it is God places in front of them.  This morning will be another step in the journey.

This Week, the Future Showed Up

When the gearshift pulled up and into his hand, my husband realized it was time to junk our 21-year-old car. The Saturn we bought as newlyweds had about 232,000 miles on the speedometer - six years ago when the speedometer broke. It has no horn, no ceiling upholstery, no working gas gauge and so on.  Since New Jersey only checks emissions on cars now, it did pass inspection recently.

After a long winter that felt as if everything was stalled, life is moving at a fast pace.

Enduring Trials and Reminding Ourselves What Will Endure

I long ago gave up believing in coincidences. I believe that everything that happens in our lives, happens for a reason. Over the weekend, something ugly happened. An adult took it upon himself to insult our eldest son publicly, Our son has become deeply involved, publicly involved in writing,speaking, going door to door and otherwise peacefully  and respectfully organizing opposition to our local school board, which is pursuing policies that are serving to destabilize our public schools. Our son wants to enter the world of public policy and politics .After reading cruel remarks on a facebook page and in private emails to my husband and me, Greg told our son this is the price that sometimes must be paid for working for the common good. Our friends rallied around us with sweet phone calls, and homemade chocolate cake and wise admonitions to steer clear of the internet, where this whole effort at public humiliation was unfolding all weekend..

"With Graduation Rapidly Approaching"....WHAT?!

And so it begins. Or I guess I should say and so it continues.

Our seventeen year old is months away from completing high school. It is hard to imagine he won't be living with us this fall - out of town and maybe even out of state as a college student. In these days we are waiting to hear from the colleges to which he has applied. Every day when I get home, I glance down on the front porch at the mail that comes in. Yesterday, two envelopes from two different colleges, letting him know his applications are complete.

Today a flurry of emails from the high school about the end-of-senior-year festivities.

My Life is Beautiful, Even When I'm Bone Tired

I decided to post this picture first to remind myself that my life is beautiful. This was the front of our house yesterday. New Jersey has been hammered with snow and the boys and I had yet another snow day from school. I am tired, bone tired, between working full time, taking two graduate classes in Special Education, advocating for our own son and helping to organize resistance to our local Board of Education, which hired a technocrat to run our local public schools and who seems intent on destabilizing our tiny school district. And so it is I find myself sitting in the family van at the end of another long day, unable to find the energy to open the door and walk into our home.

My Prayers and My Politics

I rarely involve myself in politics. I have friends and family members of  every political persuasion and I find politics so often divisive and counter productive to those relationships. I would rather spend my time raising our sons, nurturing my marriage and building friendships. In fact, the last time I took a public stance on anything was 10 years ago, when the United States was contemplating the invasion of Iraq. I went to some peace vigils and stood on the sidewalk of our small town with a sign quoting Blessed John Paul II. Social justice cannot be attained by violence. Violence kills what it intends to create.

That was then. This is now.

Our In-House Quipster

Our son Lucky. What can I say? He knows how to get a laugh, even when he doesn't mean to. 

One of the benefits of going to parent-teacher conferences is finding out how your sons are behaving in high school. 

His Model UN advisor, Mr. Gold, who we adore, told my husband the following story last week. 

Lucky was in study hall, talking with Mr. Broadfoot. Mr. Gold was walking by in the hallway and heard our son say the following. Keep in mind I am a public school teacher. 

The Value of Road Bumps

I'm not sure where I got the idea that if my husband and I did all the "right" things parenting, our boys would glide through childhood and adolescence and smoothly into adulthood. I'm not sure where that idea came from, or how it is I came to believe that watching them glide is preferable to the reality of watching them experiences the ups and downs of growing up and learning, often the hard way, how to make mistakes.

After all, life is a bumpy ride for us all, isn't it? Why was I thinking our teenagers would escape the inevitability of facing the consequences of their own limitations and excesses?

In the past week, we have come to discover, once again, that our children are on a bumpy ride. They are growing up unevenly, maturing beautifully in some places and not at all in others. Our boys make mistakes, sometimes don't learn from them, and try to please us in ways that end up backfiring. Sometimes, I feel like I am watching them take a ride on a road littered with potholes and sharp turns. Yes, I am keeping this vague because this is their ride, their journey, not ours.

"Doing What We Do Best:" A Joyful Noise in Belgrade

The kindness of friends and strangers enabled a group of New Jersey teens to bring beauty to a corner of Europe that has witnessed war and heartache for generations.

Theme Thursday: Double (Providence, Rhode Island)

OK, Cari's photo theme today is "Double." I'll be honest. I wanted to find a way to show off this picture of our sons. Two sons, Double. That works, right?

I took this photo at the Ruth's Chris Steak House in Providence, where we celebrated my (gulp) 51st birthday. The boys are notorious for not wanting their pictures taken, especially when I look like a goof using my iPad to get the shots. Oh well. I told them this was their birthday present to me.

Now that they both are high school teens, it is great to see their bond develop even more. They protect one another, defend each other, help each other and yes, annoy the heck out of each other. 

This Moment: Our Nearly Grown Boys, Lower East Side

For those of you who know our family, the existence of this picture is an enormous deal. For years, our sons have refused to have their pictures taken. They will wave their hands in front of the camera so their faces are blurry. A friend of Gabriel's took this photo last Sunday on the Lower East Side in front of a hip eating place called BaoHaus.  We all were there to celerate Gabriel's 17th birthday. You must go to BaoHaus if you find yourself in Manhattan. The place serves amazing Taiwanese street food. Gabriel has been taking his high school buddies for months, and this is the first time we joined him.

For more moments, visit www.soulemama.com

In Manhattan: Sunny Day, Everything's A-OK

I decided not to bring my camera or my cell phone today into Manhattan, where our family spent a spectacular day celebrating our older son's 17th birthday. I wanted to fully engage my eyes and ears in what we were doing and experiencing and not have the filter of my electronics. I'm glad I did. 

Birthday Boy Says: "No Candles, No Singing, No Pictures"

I don't know much about raising girls. We never had a daughter. The past 17 years in this house have been all about boys: Legos, Tinker Toys, Lincoln Logs, Matchbox cars, comic books, Star Wars. These days our home is cluttered with soccer cleats, bike helmets, golf clubs, goal-keeper gloves, bass bows, trumpet music, and rosin.Tonight, our older son's 17th birthday, was, well, boyish.

Our Babies are in High School

I don't think our sons are old enough to be entering their senior and freshman years of high school tomorrow morning.  I mean, really, do they look ready?

Six Mile Run and the Seasons of Marriage

As anyone who has been married for a while knows, marriage has seasons: the early years, the years with babies and toddlers, and so on. Right now, my husband and I have two teenaged boys and no travel soccer on our family calendar any more. This means our weekends are wide open.

Theme Thursday: Faith

Brothers and sisters:
Faith is the realization of what is hoped for
and evidence of things not seen. 

Hebrews, Chapter 11

My husband is a faithful man. No, you're not going to find him at a Knights of Columbus meeting, or at daily Mass or at a hospital bringing the Eucharist to patients. That is the way many men live out their faith beyond their Sunday Mass obligations. 

Instead, you will find my husband for three and a half hours every Wednesday night this summer in an un-air-conditioned high school gym, coaching basketball. Sometimes, when the paid referees don't show up, you'll find him both coaching and refereeing games against leagues in other towns. You will find him spending three hours Sunday afternoons leading the boys in practice at a county park. It costs not a dime to participate in the league, which means families of modest means have something to offer their sons during long, hot summers. 

A few years ago, Greg volunteered to found this summer basketball league for middle school boys. The league has grown to more than 40 participants this summer. My husband still largely is the only adult involved. The boys he coaches, pictured above in purple tee-shirts, are from a wide range of family backgrounds. What they share with my husband is the love of the game. 

What are the "things not seen" in this picture? The difference Greg will make in these young men's lives and the difference they already are making in his. That's why this is a picture of faith. 

Linking up with Cari.

a beautiful postscript: Last night, at the last game of the summer season, a coach from a neighboring town gave Greg a piece of artwork: a carved-out globe depicting the Manhattan skyline prior to Sept. 11, 2001. The globe was made from rubble from the attacks. The coach had no idea Greg is a survivor of the attacks.