This past weekend I attended a funeral. That in itself is enough to make you stop and look at your life.
However this one really made me stop and think.
As I listened to eulogy after eulogy I began to realize what kind of impact this amazing woman made during her very long life. She was somewhat of a woman's right activist in her own way. Never one to take no for an answer.
Even though she led a very successful life, what amazed me the most was her husband of 69 years sitting in the front row with their 3 children, 7 granddaughters and 6 great grandsons.
As I sat there and listened and took in what was around me, I realized that this was my grandparents generation. These were the people that my dad had grown up with calling them Aunt and Uncle, so naturally that's how I refer to them as well.
The old adage "life is short" is something that we should never forget. We could wake up one morning and not the next. This is part of what led me to one of the biggest decisions I have ever made. It was also the hardest.
Marrying my husband. That was a no brainer.
Having children. Yet another easy decision.
Leaving my job to raise my children. Now that's another story.
I went back and forth over that one for weeks. Months even.
But in the end I realized that this was an awesome thing that I was fortunate to be able to do.
And life is short and I wasn't about to miss any of it.
Sure some days are incredibly stressful. Especially when there are no naps or tag-teamed crying spells. Or when there is a sick kid or a dog that throws up or wakes the babies by barking at a leaf.
But there are also days when I catch my kids talking to each other or laughing at one another. Or the baby smiling at me, and my daughter walking. I get to see all that first hand and it makes what seemed like a hard decision an easy one.
Life is short and your time here is not a dress rehearsal. Make sure you make the most of each and every day.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Lucky Number 7
This past weekend we had our little guy Baptized. He was welcomed into the church that has been part of my husband's family for a very long time.
Before the service began, the Pastor came over to talk to us about what would happen. "A refresher course" was how she explained it since not too long ago we went through it with our daughter. As she was standing there speaking to us, she took the time to talk to the baby. He then proceeded to smile and coo at her. You would have thought they had a deep connection at that point. A connection that made him know he belonged in that church, with that Pastor.
This Pastor married us six years ago. It was her first wedding with two clergy members.
She knows my family.
She has dined at my parents table.
She always takes the time to welcome people by name into the church. It is rather quite touching.
But let me go back. So while she was talking to the baby, I was looking around the church. Not that I haven't looked many times before, however every time I go I find something new.
This day I focused on a stained glass window that had my husbands family name on it. Of course I have seen the window before, however maybe it was the baptism that caused me to look again.
As we went through the service, I focused on what I knew. I knew that I was going to be raising my children to be a part of this church family. I knew that they were open and welcoming and didn't care that I was Jewish. They only cared that we were happy and healthy and warm hearted.
After the sermon it was our turn to go up front for Beanies big moment. It was equally important to us and the Pastor that we bring Peanut with us. As the big sister she was very much a part of this.
After the prayers and speaking, he was welcomed into the church family. People came over to say hello and offer the congratulations.
While all this was happening I noticed our uncle talking to the Pastor and pointing to the window.
The very window I was noticing before.
After everyone sat down, I realized why they were talking about the window.
That window symbolized my husbands family and their beginnings.
It was at that moment that the congregation was informed that our children and our nephew were the 7th generation to become members of the church.
We had no idea.
Ok. Maybe I had no idea, my husband never let on if he had any idea or not.
We also found out that the land the cemetery extension sits on was donated by my husbands family to the church.
When visiting the cemetery there is a farm at the bottom of a huge hill. This farm belonged to my husbands family.
I don't believe in much and I don't consider myself a religious person. But some times things happen that can not be helped or orchestrated. They were meant to be.
Much like the connection my baby boy had with the Pastor at that very moment before the service.
He knew he belonged.
Before the service began, the Pastor came over to talk to us about what would happen. "A refresher course" was how she explained it since not too long ago we went through it with our daughter. As she was standing there speaking to us, she took the time to talk to the baby. He then proceeded to smile and coo at her. You would have thought they had a deep connection at that point. A connection that made him know he belonged in that church, with that Pastor.
This Pastor married us six years ago. It was her first wedding with two clergy members.
She knows my family.
She has dined at my parents table.
She always takes the time to welcome people by name into the church. It is rather quite touching.
But let me go back. So while she was talking to the baby, I was looking around the church. Not that I haven't looked many times before, however every time I go I find something new.
This day I focused on a stained glass window that had my husbands family name on it. Of course I have seen the window before, however maybe it was the baptism that caused me to look again.
As we went through the service, I focused on what I knew. I knew that I was going to be raising my children to be a part of this church family. I knew that they were open and welcoming and didn't care that I was Jewish. They only cared that we were happy and healthy and warm hearted.
After the sermon it was our turn to go up front for Beanies big moment. It was equally important to us and the Pastor that we bring Peanut with us. As the big sister she was very much a part of this.
After the prayers and speaking, he was welcomed into the church family. People came over to say hello and offer the congratulations.
While all this was happening I noticed our uncle talking to the Pastor and pointing to the window.
The very window I was noticing before.
After everyone sat down, I realized why they were talking about the window.
That window symbolized my husbands family and their beginnings.
It was at that moment that the congregation was informed that our children and our nephew were the 7th generation to become members of the church.
We had no idea.
Ok. Maybe I had no idea, my husband never let on if he had any idea or not.
We also found out that the land the cemetery extension sits on was donated by my husbands family to the church.
When visiting the cemetery there is a farm at the bottom of a huge hill. This farm belonged to my husbands family.
I don't believe in much and I don't consider myself a religious person. But some times things happen that can not be helped or orchestrated. They were meant to be.
Much like the connection my baby boy had with the Pastor at that very moment before the service.
He knew he belonged.
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