Up the Avenues and Down (Part Two)

A Gold Star Banner in the window stopped me dead in my tracks.
The family of Army Sgt. Joshua W. Harris never forgot his face
Killed in action September 17, 2008 in Gerdia Seria, Afghanistan
His vehicle encountered an improvised explosive device
Only twenty one years old, so young, so brave
So gone … along with three others

Another time, another place, another IED
Hearts and lives and families ripped to shreds
Boston Marathon on Patriot’s Day 2013
A day to celebrate those who fought for America’s freedom
A day to remember those who have died in the name of freedom
Can justice run up the avenues and down?

red stuff of life ended

Honestly Dad

Remaining parent,
for fifty years I was your daughter
Before you remembered me.

I adored you from my first moment
Pictures of me gazing into your hazelnut eyes,
My baby blues crinkled all smiles

when you walked into the room

Honestly Dad
You needed your newspaper, I needed my daddy.
Did you really have to toss me out of your easy chair?

You taught me to ride my first bike.
You took off just one of the training wheels.
I crashed into the rose bush.

Remember when we went to the Father/Daughter Dance?
The year was 1967
I was a ten-year old in a lime green mini dress.

We didn’t dance but we were together.
That was really nice.
The most handsome daddy in the world.

Remember when we went to buy my first car?
1971 Ford Maverick three on the tree.
I had never driven a manual transmission before.

You pointed the car up the hill, such a challenge
Trying to time it all perfectly to impress you with my driving skills.
It worked so much better when we turned the car around.

Honestly Dad

I wanted to follow in your successful footsteps
If I was a state forester like you, we’d have so much to talk about
“That’s a poor career choice for women” was your reply.

Remember when I tried to be a model in the big city?
I sent you a glossy black and white photo of ME
Eight and a half by eleven, all framed up

The glass was shattered in transit from Chicago to northern Minnesota
My life and my heart broken in pieces 1984
I think you got to see what I looked like anyway.

You walked me down the aisle and gave me away two times
The third time you couldn’t make it to the wedding
And that’s OK.

Thirty years since I left home
You never called me
You quickly passed the phone to Mom when I called

Now you call me every week
Honestly Dad
Why did it take Mom’s passing for you to remember me?

Happy Birthday to the Auntie of the Goose

Once upon a time, a sweet baby girl was born. She arrived on a cold cold day in 1935 in central Minnesota to the great joy of her parents. Her mother being a literary type named her Ferne, and she grew into her name and the literary prophecy.

Happy birthday to my dear Auntie Ferne.

Ferne is my mother’s big sister. My mother could remember every single event and incident of their childhood…Auntie Ferne has little memory of her childhood because like Mother Goose she kept her nose in her books. When Mom would begin a story of growing up in a railroad town during World War II, Auntie would get a puzzled look on her face. “That really happened?” she would ask.

Mom, Ferne and their brother Warnie, probably taken around 1942.

My mother got so tired of hearing of Ferne’s exquisite behavior, her excellent grades in school and her humble charm. She decided at an early age that she would do everything the opposite of her sister. Like a fish swimming victoriously upstream, Mom achieved her goals and stood out in school as class clown — voted by her graduating class as “Most Likely To Have a Fun Time”.

Because she’s so smart, Auntie graduated early from high school and was immediately drafted into the Minnesota educational system as a full-time teacher. She served for years and years, finally retiring with honors and medals of valor.

Auntie never gets angry or upset. When my mother raged at a personal affront, the whole world heard and cowered. When my auntie is frustrated with a situation, she is likely to fiercely press her thumb down hard on the tabletop. Mom would pound the table with a clenched fist or punish the table with a loud open-palmed slap. Auntie is reserved, quiet and gentle — Mom was always loud and exuberant with the great wide-reaching emotions of her life.

Ferne married at a very young age — a handsome and tall man named Charlie. They moved to Virginia where he served his country as a peace-time soldier and then back to Minneapolis where they raised their family. When his company closed their doors in Minneapolis, the family said “goodbye” to Minnesota and left for the great plains of Oklahoma.

When she retired from teaching, Auntie stayed busy with sewing and quilting projects. Mother Goose is not at all certain why they decided to open a funnel cake business when Uncle Charlie retired. Suddenly Ferne could be found every weekend at the local carnivals and fairs.

When that mysterious phase of their lives ended, they both got their real estate licenses.

From the perspective of Mother Goose, Auntie Ferne has always been the picture of a serving and loving wife and mother. But according to my mother, Ferne never fully bloomed because she’s been forever in her husband’s shadow, just a little too submissive to his career whims and whirls.

Mom always wished her sister would show some backbone, not be such a wilting violet, grab life with a little more gusto and talk back to Uncle Charlie once in awhile.

After their own mother and brother passed away within a week of each other eighteen years ago, Ferne came back to northern Minnesota to stay with Mom for awhile. She stayed and stayed. Mom wanted her to stay forever and never go back to Oklahoma and Charlie and the boring real estate business.

Mom saw a beautiful spark of independence in her sister for the first time and knew that if she returned to her old life, the flame would slowly fade to embers and then go out. Uncle Charlie begged Ferne to come home. He sent her gifts of expensive jewelry and promises. He vowed to never bully her again.

She flew home…

My mom loved her sister more than words can say, and missed her dearly. They talked on the phone several times a week for years and years, but I’m not sure they ever saw each other more than twice after that.

When Mom turned seventy, the Lord called her home, and everybody commented how appropriate that she was wearing the beautifully quilted vest that her sister, my Auntie Ferne, had made for her.

Ferne is a great grandmother several times over now. She’s still selling real estate at the age of 78. She sews lovely baptism banners for the babies in her church and prays for all of us.

She laughed this morning when Mother Goose called her up on the phone and sang “Happy Birthday” to her. She told me lots of stories of her recent adventures, including a Thanksgiving trip where Uncle Charlie had fallen asleep behind the wheel of their car in the mountains of Arkansas. They were traveling to visit their daughter in Atlanta, and they crashed into the back of a semi-trailer truck somewhere in Arkansas.

She’s thankful that they didn’t drive off the mountain road and into eternity…

Here’s what Mother Goose thinks:

It has taken a whole lot of gumption and courage and faith and love for Auntie Ferne to stay with Uncle Charlie all of these years. Marriage is a difficult pathway for some of us, and I do truly admire her commitment and resolve. I consider her one of my lifelong heroes and mentors.

Happy Birthday, Auntie Ferne! I love you, and I wish you many, many more years of good health and great love.

The Christmas “WOW Factor”

Mother Goose has been “hunkering down” this past week — so very occupied with my Christmas preparations. I seem to cram all of Advent into the week before Christmas. In the past seven days, the goose family has been so busy it makes my feathery head just spin!

I have said “Wow!” over and over again.

Last Saturday, our family all attended the Elgin Symphonic Orchestra’s holiday extravaganza, “Let It Snow” followed by an 11:00 pm dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant, La Campana.

Benny, Jessi and Eric at La Campana

The very next day we gathered to celebrate the birthday of Mother Goose which proved to be all about pie.

The wonders of pie…

There was holiday decorating.

There were nearly 10,000 cookies to bake, pack and ship to family around the globe. There were Christmas cards to sign and mail to friends near and far. Of course, there was shopping for the perfect gifties and wrapping of the perfect gifties.

Secret stash…

There were fun surprises lurking around many corners.

Mother Goose snuggling up with Santa Claus.

And it all comes down to the most major celebration of all on December 25th.

Mother Goose has tried to maintain a sense of order and peace and joy throughout these days of prep. I have believed in decorum. and I have believed Christmas music. Though personal conflict might come in many sizes and shapes, we try to keep our tidings glad and our days merry and bright.

Of course, we also remember the mundane tasks which must be accomplished (the laundry, the dishes, the bathroom cleaning chores), but the priority must be the remembrance of the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus.

Yesterday, Mother Goose spent hours sequestered in her bedroom with only the company of wrapping paper, tape, scissors and shopping bags full of the spoils of several trips out into the mobs and gangs of shoppers. My youngest gosling spent the day coughing and sneezing on the couch with the Snuggie she received last Christmas Eve. She found solace on the Disney channel and with her friends on Nickelodeon.

Taking a break from her wrapping exertions, stiff and sore Mother Goose would occasionally check in on the sick girl’s health and fill her glass of ice water. AnnaRose was a good patient, and Mother Goose accomplished great and noble things for the good of Christmas Day…

Today, this youngest in the flock queried Mother Goose about those presents which had been the day-long obsession for her mother: “And why don’t you just bring them all down and put them under the Christmas tree?”

With tired, red-rimmed eyes, Mother Goose looked at her little girl and patiently replied, “We’re going for the WOW Factor, my dear daughter.”

And yes, indeed, it is always the WOW Factor, isn’t it, my dear readers? The children awake on Christmas morning and scamper to the tree. The piles of colorfully wrapped presents are here, there and everywhere around the tree. Skyscrapers of gifts stacked to the ceiling. What was a simple and empty beautiful space the night before has become a veritable and magical and majestical Mount Everest of joy and fun, dreams realized, and wishes come true.

Santa Claus has been here, and the dawning of this day is good as gold.

The happy laughter and shrieks of delight as the gifts are opened, the camera flashes, the silliness of the shredded wrapping paper all over the floor, WOW!

The endless plates of cookies and candies, WOW.

The tables laden with pies and centerpieces, the sumptuous Christmas dinner, the roast beast and the Yorkshire pudding, the fruit cakes, the flowing wine and eggnog, WOW.

Perhaps there will be fresh Christmas snow, WOW.

So much WOW everywhere you look.

But the biggest WOW of all is that God loves us so much that He sent His Son to earth as a baby boy who grew up to be a perfect man. He came to live among people, to heal us of our sins and sicknesses, to teach us about His Father and to make a way for us to live for eternity in heaven. From the cradle to the cross, Christmas is all about Jesus.

Jesus is The Christmas WOW Factor.

Merry Christmas with love from Mother Goose! WOW!

The Most Perfect Tree

[Mother Goose is observing Wordless Wednesday...shhhh]

A Family Reunited

Families are very special. They come together through the marriage of two young loves, they grow and change, they drift apart and then come running back together. Recently we had the great joy of attending two family reunions in one weekend. On Saturday, we caught up with the maternal side of Husband Goose’s family. Unfortunately, I have no pictures to prove it….But the good news is that they get together every year at this time, and so we will be seeing them again in less than twelve months.

The very next day we were reunited with the paternal side of Husband Goose’s family. Again, a wonderfully fun time and especially special because these cousins haven’t had a reunion in more than ten years! You might be able to spot Mother Goose in this picture as she looks completely different from the rest of the family.

The Cramers

Another reason I post this story today is to ask for your prayers for Aunt Charlotte, the beautiful 70-something lady in the center of the picture. Since this picture was taken ten days ago, Aunt Char has been diagnosed with a very aggressive form of thyroid cancer.

Aunt Char is on the left, and sister Suzanne is on the right. Suzanne was the flower girl for Aunt Charlotte’s wedding fifty three years ago. They are both still as beautiful as on that day long ago.

Friends, we are praying for a miracle. This is looking very serious from any sort of a treatment standpoint. We just really need a miracle for Aunt Char and the family. Will you please pray with us?

With love, Mother Goose

Monday Reflection of Mother Goose

With the beginning of the school year upon us, Mother Goose hearkens back to days gone by. Often she contemplates the history of her children, their plans, her dreams for them and where they are today. Mother Goose just LOVES doing compare and contrast studies, even on her offspring.

I bring to you today, a document that Mother Goose has kept posted on the refrigerator or washing machine for the past ten years. I created it ten years ago in order to imagine where all of my goslings will be in the “next ten years”. The time has come to compare and contrast — plans, dreams and reality.

Crumpled plans…

When I made the chart, oldest daughter Jessi was in high school and the baby, AnnaRose, was not yet a year old. I listed out the grades that each of the kids would be in for that year and for the next nine years to come. This became a very handy tool when somebody would ask me, “Mother Goose, what grade will I be in when Adam and Erik are in 8th grade?” or “Mom, when Jessi is in college, where will I be?”

Everything went according to the plan until the school year 2005-2006 when Jessi didn’t go to college. Well, she went to college for a little while. We drove her to upstate New York and left her at a Bible College, but that didn’t work out. She soon returned on a train after spending the semester in the Dean’s office…

So then she was not in college until 2008, but I didn’t bother to change the chart because it was so charming to see how it was all working out.

Then the plans for Adam and Erik were all fine until the year 2010 – 2011 when they should have been Juniors in college. They decided to work for awhile and then they joined the U.S. Navy. And by then their older sister WAS in college, but not working. Fortunately the younger siblings have all stayed on track so far. They have been going to their correct grades and following the plans of their Mother Goose.

It seems that the children follow the plan very well until they reach the end of high school! And then they begin to make changes to reflect on their own hopes and dreams. Imagine that!

At some point, the offspring of Mother Goose become independent thinkers. For that, I am most grateful. I reach my wing around and pat myself on the back for raising these children to think for themselves. I am singing for joy, and honking in merriment that this bit of family history has been preserved for the generations to come.

Do you see the far right column where it says that the three older goslings would be working? Yes, they are working out just fine. Jessi is working and applying to a Masters Degree program at the University of Illinois at Chicago. Erik and Adam are working for Uncle Sam as “nukes” in the greatest Navy in the world.

Here’s a proverb that seems to apply today:

“In her heart a goose plans the course of her goslings, but the Lord determines their steps.” Proverbs 16:9 (paraphrased…)

Love, Mother Goose

Hell Week for the Goose

“I do not believe in God, because I do not believe in Mother Goose.” Clarence Darrow

Perhaps Clarence was confused about the reality of Mother Goose. He was definitely confused about God. But even Mother Goose who has abundant faith, hope and love is at a loss for an explanation when it comes to the events of this past week. Let’s reflect together for just a few minutes about the Hell Week of a Goose.

On Monday, the youngest of the goslings mentioned that she felt something was in her eye. Mother Goose looked and saw nothing.

On Tuesday, the child’s eyelid was puffed up like a cumulus cloud. Mother Goose ran to her medicine cabinet and pulled out two ophthalmic products — a small bottle of eye drops and a tube of neomycin ointment (an antibiotic). She dutifully applied both products to the right eye of the child. Within an hour, the pupil in the child’s right eye was completely dilated. The puffiness had not diminished.

Not my daughter’s eye, but definitely a dilated pupil.

Well, how strange, thought Mother Goose. “Let’s just go to sleep now, and I’m sure you’ll be fine tomorrow morning for the first day of school.”

And, of course, in the morning, the eye was puffier than ever and the pupil was still dilated. The brave child went off to school anyway, leaving Mother Goose at home to Google this problem, and to make an appointment with the doctor. The antibiotic cream was fine, according to Google. Mother Goose now googled the name of the prescription eyedrops, Atropine. “A very strong medicine for dilating the pupil, used primarily for glaucoma patients, people with bleeding eyes and dogs with eye infections…”

Yes, our dog had used these drops in her eyes just a few months ago for her eye infection.

Oh, Mother Goose…

Four days later, my daughter’s pupil is nearly back to its normal size and activity.

Oh, Mother Goose…

Also this week, the husband of Mother Goose was the subject of a dental procedure — the extraction of his abscessed molar.

The molar of husband Goose didn’t look this good…

On the same day, one of the goosemobiles suffered a meltdown, requiring a $500 repair at the Pep Boys.

They do everything for less…

Another of the goslings accidentally smashed his arm into a door, requiring a trip to the Emergency Room at our local hospital. The poor fellow cracked it so terribly hard that he couldn’t straighten it out. The good folks at West Suburban Medical Center took a few xrays and determined that the arm was neither broken nor dislocated, only horribly bruised.

We’ve been here several times over the years…

Whew… it’s been just awful for Mother Goose who was crying and honking all at the same time.

Did I mention that I also sliced a huge chunk out of my index finger as I washed the perpetual dishes one morning?

Do you ever have days like these? Do you ever just want to throw your wings up in the air and give up? Do you shake your fist at the heavens and swear revenge on the universe? Have you ever just wanted to go back to bed and start the week all over again?

Mother Goose shed her fair share of tears this week in the course of these light and momentary struggles and trials. There was even a bit of shouting in our normally peaceful nest. Yes, shouting. Can you even imagine?

But whether we believe in Mother Goose or in God, either or both, here’s the eventual outcome:

Each of us survived our personal battles this week. Each of us has made it to Friday night, pretty much intact. We are weary of the Hell Week and hope that tomorrow and the next day will be better, but deep within each of us is the truth that no matter what problems we face, what fears we have, no matter if the incorrect eye drops have been placed in our eyes, it’s gonna be OK.

When we get to the other side of Hell Week, we are full of hope that we can probably get through anything. There is much grace in Hell Week. It’s gonna be OK.

It’s one of the favorite sayings of Mother Goose — she knows it’s true because she lives it out every day.

It’s gonna be OK. Really!

Photo Ops with the Goose

On our recent family trip through Wisconsin and into the great state of Minnesota, there were plenty of opportunities for posing in front of stuff, proving our tourista status. Enjoy the wonderful Minnesota theme song and feel free to laugh out loud (or gasp) as you examine our pictures. Just take your time…

Stepson Eric climbing in central Wisconsin near Devil’s Lake. Mother Goose nearly fainted when she saw this picture…

Somebody posing with a mouse in Wisconsin…

A lovely carved totem pole in Blackduck, Minnesota.

Allen posing with the totem pole.

Yes, there IS a black duck in Blackduck, Minnesota.

Much patriotism in Minnesota.

And the grand finale in Squaw Lake, Minnesota. A real goose and a not so real goose…

What a wonderful, unforgettable time we had on our short vacation to northern Minnesota! Thanks so much for coming along on this report with Mother Goose, and for putting up with my silliness — again.

“Honey, Please Take Me to the Meatball Dinner at the Church…”

Where can you go to get a good meatball these days? Mother Goose searched high and low for the perfect meatball dinner, and finally found it. Just thirty-six miles northwest of Bemidji, Minnesota near the village of Debs, we just happened to run into this quaint sign by the side of the country road:

Well, heck yeah, we followed the arrow!

And the arrow led us right up to the Trinity Lutheran Church where they were in the midst of their 31st Annual Meatball Dinner. Imagine our great delight to just run across this sweet little church in the middle of the northern Minnesota woods.

The steeple is brand new at Trinity Lutheran Church — the meatball recipe is old, tried and true.

Oh Mother Goose is just kidding, again. We knew when we left home that we’d eventually end up here at the meatball dinner. It was part of our grand scheme to surprise as many family members as possible. We walked surreptitiously up to the church looking for Dad.

He looked right at me; he looked right through me; he looked somewhere else. We were absolutely the last people on the planet that he expected to see at his church that day.

Finally, Mother Goose got right in his face and said “Hi, Dad!” (What else could I possibly say?) Then he realized that his daughters, his son and all their families were actually right there in front of him. Unlike my sister at her emotional surprise event, he kept his composure. Nate is known far and wide for his stoical nature. Ever nonplussed, his reaction was a simple, “Well, hi there. What are you doing here?”

Here’s the father of Mother Goose posing with three of his grand-goose-children. [He's the one with the great hair...]

Dad took a break from his job as parking lot attendant. Earlier in the morning, he helped to peel three hundred pounds of potatoes.

It’s a wonderful community event, attracting meatball lovers from all around the region — Lutherans and non-Lutherans alike enjoy meatballs and gravy on mashed taters with a plethora of salad and veggie side dishes including beets…

And then a sweet young lady came around to the tables with her dessert tray laden with strawberry shortcake, apple pie slices, rhubarb upside-down cake and various cookies and bars. Believe it or not, Mother Goose does not have one picture of the food. She was too busy stuffing it into her mouth.

Here’s a candid picture of Brother Goose and Loon Goose enjoying their meatball dinner with side dishes. By the way, they drove two and one-half hours on their Harley-Davidson motorcycle to get to this amazingly delicious church dinner. Along the way, Loon peeked over Dana’s shoulder to look at the truck in front of them and promptly received a stone smashing into her nose and mouth. That just shows you what my family will go through to have a good time together…

Even bikers were allowed at the Meatball Dinner. Even bikers with stone-smashed noses and puffy lips…

And there was even live music! Mother Goose surely does not know the name of this country bluegrass band, but her rubbery and webbed foot was tapping. I thought somebody might ask me to dance, but then I realized they were mostly playing sad old country funeral songs…

Will The Circle Be Unbroken, In the Sweet By and By, Amazing Grace and I’ll Fly Away…

At long last, with our gullets full and the parking responsibilities passed along to another fine young Lutheran man, we could all pose together for a family portrait. Here’s a handsome picture of a pretty large flock of gooses (my husband goose and some of my goslings are missing, of course, as they had to hike in Wisconsin, work at vegan restaurants and/or serve our country in the U.S. Navy):

Even the little hero dog was there for the Trinity Lutheran Church Meatball Dinner!

After the dinner and the family photo session, we all went back to Dad’s house for some visiting time and a garden tour. It was a very special and happy time. But as we drove back to Keewatin that evening, we had some very surprising photo ops! You’ll laugh like a crazy loon tomorrow when this northern Minnesota adventure story continues…

Love, Mother Goose