This week is a definite departure from the usual routine at our house.
My daughter and her family came to visit on Good Friday, and we had a fun weekend together. Denise and Dave went back to town on Sunday, leaving the children with us for their entire Easter holidays. Here are a few photos.
Needless to say, my time and energy have been devoted mostly to our little guests.
How was your Easter?
In my next post, I will be sharing some news. Stay tuned!
When my husband Paul was six years old, he and his family moved from Newtown – the little community in which we live now – to live in the capital city of St. John’s. Their parents relocated so that Paul’s oldest sibling David could attend the Vera Perlin school for his special needs.
On the day of the big move, Paul crawled up under the house – the actual house we live in now – in a show of protest. “Everyone should be able to live where they were born,” he argued through tears, but the die had been cast. He was pulled out and packed into the car with everyone else.
On the very first day at their new school, Paul and his other brother Kevin, who is one year older, decided to walk home from school for lunch, despite being told to stay there and eat the lunch they’d brought. But when they saw other children going home, they wanted to go as well. Unfamiliar with their new neighbourhood, the two boys got lost, and Kevin started to cry.
Brave little Paul tried his best to console his big brother by distracting him. “Don’t cry, Kev. Look at the pigeons,” he said, pointing at a bunch of them as they waddled across the sidewalk, hoping the strange, tame city birds might cheer him up. It worked, and they ended up following a classmate to his house. Between the jigs and the reels, their dad had to leave work and go pick them up.
Let’s go back a couple of years when Paul was four and Kevin was five, to another time the younger boy displayed his wisdom. A new addition to the family of three boys had arrived, and this time, it was a girl! When their mom brought baby Julie Ann home, the boys crowded around to get a look at their new sister. Kevin’s eyes opened wide when her diaper came off to be changed. “Look, Paul,” he said, incredulous. “She ain’t got nar topper!” (penis)
“No, ya foolish,” Paul said, enlightened beyond his years. “She got whatever Mom got.”
Now before you think I’m beating up on my brother-in-law, I’d like to share one more tale. Okay, two. When Paul was about nine and enjoying his summer vacation in Newtown, Kevin saved him from drowning. Paul was diving with some other boys off of Burnt Island, but he tired in the deep water and panicked. Kevin grabbed him by the hair on top of his head and pulled him to safety.
Years later, when Kevin was just beginning his teaching career, he and Paul were driving along in St. John’s one evening. Without warning, Kevin pulled over, stopped the car, and jumped out. He’d spied two teenage boys in a fist fight near the local hockey rink, and he wanted to stop them. Paul watched as he parted the boys, reasoned with them, and ended the scuffle.
It was a day he never forgot. Where most people would just keep going and not get involved, Kevin stepped in and tried to solve the problem. It made Paul really proud of his brother.
Paul confessed there were other boyhood fights where Kev stepped in and rescued Paul himself, fights my husband started and couldn’t finish. I would say he’s grateful for those too. And so am I. 🙂
“If baking is any labor at all, it’s a labor of love. A love that gets passed from generation to generation.”
~ Regina Brett
♥
Our little baker girl at two years old:
♥
♥
♥
And here she is at nine years. Where has the time gone?
Our boy is turning SEVEN on Saturday.
Can’t wait to see you on the weekend, my treasures. xo
❤
“Grandchildren are one of the sweetest rewards for raising a family.”
~ J. Kelland Perry
❤
Weekly Photo Challenge: Reward
What does reward mean to you?
These days, few of us experience the old-fashioned pleasure of receiving a letter by standard mail. So imagine my joy to find, tucked inside a Christmas card from my aunt in the U.S., a handwritten note, along with a handful of photos sent to her from my father.
She writes:
“Dear Jennifer – A note to enclose with these snapshots sent to me many years ago. They are precious to me, but belong in your heart and your home. It was a great adventure that Ralph shared with me over the phone lines. – Lovingly, Irene.”
Discussing this with my aunt recently, she was unable to nail down the year they were taken, but she believes Dad made the trip to Labrador in the mid to late fifties. That would make him, at the youngest, twenty-one, and still single.
An added bonus: his familiar handwriting scrawled on the back of each snapshot. ♥
I have captioned each one with his words.
A closer look:
I love his outfit. Lots of layers, warm boots, yet he is wearing a jacket, shirt and tie, and his hair is perfect.
This begs more questions: why did he fly out of Gander and not St. John’s? Who was he with and who took the pictures? Why did he make this trip to Labrador? Unfortunately, we are fuzzy on all the details.
No surprise to me at all that Dad would love the little animals!
If only he and I could sit down and have a chat together about his adventure in “The Big Land.” In any case, I cannot put into words how good it feels to see my father’s young face again. ♥
Have you ever gotten mail that made your day?
Is there someone you love and miss with all your heart?
Further Reading: Labrador, the distinct, northerly region of the Canadian province of Newfoundland and Labrador
I started following Rhonda Elkins’ blog around this time last year, and was profoundly moved by her tragic story. It had only been months since she, a registered nurse, lost her 23-year-old daughter Kaitlyn to suicide, and writing about it in her blog, My Bright Shining Star, was her way of dealing with the devastation she was experiencing.
As tough as it must have been for her, Rhonda’s heart-wrenching posts turned into a new project: a book about her daughter to help raise awareness of the rampant depression and high number of medical students who take their own lives. Like her blog, it also proved to be a source of comfort for others who were going through the pain and anguish of losing a child to suicide.
With her permission, I reblogged this post back in February to help get her message out there, that even those closest to us often keep their depression hidden.
Earlier this week, I was shocked and saddened to learn Rhonda had followed Kaitlyn last Friday, leaving her husband and older daughter to pick up the shattered pieces of what remained of their family.
Rhonda had blogged recently about the good reviews her book was getting, as well as her decision to return to her nursing profession part-time (she hadn’t worked since Kaitlyn died in April of 2013).
I, like many others, had believed she had gotten through the worst of it, and was ready to go on with her life.
We were so wrong.
Your life had a purpose, Rhonda. You shared your heart and soul with your readers, painfully, yet with great eloquence. I’m so sorry you were suffering and unable to get past your grief and depression. I’m sorry we couldn’t help you more. And I pray you have finally found peace, and are reunited with your beautiful daughter Kaitlyn.
I will never forget either of you.
Links for Rhonda:
http://hosting-9605.tributes.com/obituary/show/Rhonda-Elkins-101642909
https://www.facebook.com/inmemoryofrhondasellerselkins
https://www.facebook.com/events/771748509514127/
With a new school year beginning this week, I urge those of you who are parents of young students to broach the topic of anti-bullying.
Perhaps you have had the talk before, but it bears repeating and reinforcing. Start a dialogue on all aspects of bullying, including cyber-bullying. A child’s future well-being may be at stake.
Consider having your child take the following pledge:
As the pledge states, it is also important not to turn a blind eye when you witness bullying. Yes, it takes courage to speak up, but as parents and teachers, we have to teach our kids to be compassionate.
Bullying is deliberately hurting another person with your words or actions. Would you want someone to treat you that way?
Last Friday, we took a trip to Lead Cove, the little outport community where my children grew up.
Time spent with fun-loving family…
…on a warm summer weekend, is high on my list of favourite things to do.
Around the bay, the pace slows down where time together is savoured and enjoyed.
(Our boy fell and skinned his knee after I took this one, but let’s not talk about that.)
Nico explores with Poppy, making the most of his freedom from the leash.
Our little girl spends a pensive moment beside the sea.
Nico joins her.
Perhaps they are watching the fishing boat near the horizon.
When we return to the summer-house, our chef checks on the roast he is smoking with maple chips.
Nico finds a shady spot.
Pulled pork sandwiches with all the fixin’s. Yum!
Everyone loves it. ❤
Nico is savouring every minute.
So nice to see the kids playing and spending quality time with their mom.
Later, we light a fire and serve up spider wieners.
Happy girl.
What fire would be complete without s’mores? My first one in decades. 🙂
My One-Year-Old Daughter and Me
Denise was born on a beautiful sunny day, just like today. She decided to show up three weeks before her due date of July 6th. Born at Carbonear Hospital, she was the smallest baby there at the time, weighing a dainty five pounds, seven ounces.
My life as a very young mother had begun!
Denise at Six Years Old
Denise was a happy child, but she was also softhearted, intelligent, and focused.
Bachelor of Nursing Graduate
She always worked hard to realize her goals.
Her Beautiful Family
Happy Birthday, Denise! I am so proud of you, and can’t imagine my life without you in it!
Love Mom ❤
Mom,
I miss you when I’m happy
I miss you when I’m sad
but I’m forever grateful for
the precious time we had.
On Mother’s Day, as always
I’ll think of you in prayer
’cause if there is a heaven
I know that you are there.
❤
I’m away from home this week, lending a hand with my daughter’s children while their regular sitter is on vacation. This morning while I was waiting for the kindergarten school bus with my six-year-old grandson, we had this conversation:
“J, why are you so cute?”
He smiled a little smile and said, “That’s what my mom always asks me.”
“Are you going to love Nanny even when she’s an old, old granny?”
He looked at me. “Yes. And I’ll love you even when you go away forever and I can’t see you anymore.”
With those words, I felt an abrupt squeeze around my heart. I think it broke a little.
I realized, since he and his sister had already lost one grandparent, this was a part of life he now expected.
I pray I’m there for you for a long, long time, my precious boy! ❤
Jennifer's Journal 