A Blending of Two Families

This past weekend we took a step back in, what we would consider, the normal route life takes us. In life, we celebrate birth, graduation, marriage, anniversaries and are now at the stage where we have buried our mom, dad or a grandparent, depending on whose perspective.

My H and I had gotten into a routine where, quite often on a Sunday, you would find us popping in on our mom, his or mine, or both. We saw that being alone is a lonely place to be and the bright smiles of welcome we received were worth the time. Then, this past spring we said our final goodbye to his mom, while at the same time, my mom found a new love to share life with.

The anticipated day finally arrived and we have witnessed that when a heart if filled with love there is always room for more. And so we took a step back in the way life was beginning to look for us.



On Friday members from both sides of the family met a the church gym to prepare. Some grandsons came to help with the tables … and everyone just got to work . . . doing whatever they saw needed doing . . . arranging flowers, ironing tablecloths, setting tables, taping down a runner or running out for little extra things.

I could not go home to sleep until pretty well everything was done.

On Saturday I picked my mom up from the hairdresser's and took her home to get dressed. Later, at the door of her apartment we rang for her name, the name she has had for 55 years, for the final time.

We took her to the church and parked by a door discreetly tucked away from the main entrance, in case anyone would want to see the bride before it was time.

In the foyer the little ones were looking as cute as could be in their wedding clothes, waiting to walk down the isle . . . which turned out to be only a dream when most of them got cold feet. I guess every wedding has to have something to laugh about.

In the sanctuary a daughter of the groom took care of a final detail.

The good thing is … the couple was very happy to walk down the isle together and be seated on their special chairs. As per their request, they were serenaded with music by both sides of the family… which included, piano, flute, guitar, voice . . . and you could tell they really appreciated that. There was a message for them, the exchange of the rings, the signing of the register and some special moments before they announced the new Mr. and Mrs.

Then it was done! They did not exactly run out of the church.

While the guests filed into the gym, the immediate family . . . about 50 of us . . . gathered on the front steps of the church for formal photos. I will just share some of our personal candid shots.



This photo may look vaguely familiar for some reason . . . that is, if you saw an earlier post of the two of us  in the last post. Heidi and I have not seen each other much lately, but I have a feeling that will change now. Our parents, being who they are, will be sure to get the whole gang together at the lake and I do look forward to that.



A photo with the daughters from both sides . . . the ones who grew up together. They've always called my mom Tante Erika as we called their mom Tante Kaethe . . . which was how we were taught as children to call those adults who were close to the family. I know that in her heart mom has adopted them along with their two brothers and spouses too. She will never take the place of their mom, but she will support their dad in his love and care for his family.

The great-grandchildren on my side are happy that Oma (what they call their great-grandmother) has an Opa that comes with the package now and they have no problem calling him that.

Some of our own cuties hanging out and waiting for photos to be done already. . .

before heading off to the reception.

 One final photo of the couple in the centre of it all.

 

I realized after the reception that the bouquet did not get tossed and took it home for safekeeping until they return from their honeymoon. This daughter of the bride is happy and content to know that her mom is in good hands. My prayer is that, as they share the end of life's journey with all that comes into the picture in a blended family, their sorrows be divided and their joys be multiplied.

The Song that's Ringing in my Head

This past spring, I wrote about a unique kind of love blossoming in our family. Over the summer a wedding has been planned and we are about to see how all of these plans will come together.

Again, I can’t help but remember the days in my childhood when my best friend, Heidi, and I watched The Brady Bunch (in black and white) at her house week after week . . . only now to see a comparison that brings a smile to us. Her dad and my mom are getting married! Of course, it’s not really the same . . . the kids are all grown and married, but still . . . it has a Brady Bunch feel about it.

Part of the strange, but wonderful feel are the memories shared as our parents enjoyed their friendship as couples over so many years.

I came across  a photo of the youngest girls from both sides taken at a shower then

and now - 43 years later - at a shower again.

Then I remembered a photo taken of the five of us (an older brother missing and a younger brother not born yet) visiting Santa in 1967. The two girls on the left are from his side, the three kids on the right, her side. I'm the one cut off in the corner.

 -

A photo taken of oldest daughters from both sides, Heidi and I, at a beach in Vancouver in 1968 . . .

and another photo of Heidi, as my maid of honor.

Tell me, when do daughters take their mom shopping for a wedding dress? When do grandchildren get asked to sing, set tables, or book a honeymoon? When do great-grandchildren walk in the radiant bride and groom?

This weekend, there will be his side . . . and her side coming together to agree that God has brought our parents . . . and our families . . . together for such a time as this.

Though He brings grief, He will show compassion, so great is His unfailing love.
Lamentations 3: 32

 

Blessed Assurance

On this first day of Fall, I just have to go back to one more summer memory smiling at me in my pictures.

Jesus loves me,

this I know

for the Bible

 tells me so.

Little ones

 to Him belong -

they are weak,

but He is strong.

Yes, Jesus loves me.

Yes, Jesus loves me.

Yes, Jesus loves me.

The Bible tells me so.

A Shower

A little planning and some decorating . . .

a day of preparing . . .

beating . . .

assembling . . .

 

checking  . . .

patting  . . .

 

spreading ...

listening for the timer . . .

 

drizzling . . .

and chopping . . .

Then putting it all together . . .

to surprise the bride

 

and experience the joy of two sides coming together around one table.

A shower of blessing, is what it's called.

One Year!

A special milestone such as a first birthday is a time to look back on the year . . .

and remember the first time we held you . . . kissed your sweet little face . . .

 and dreamed about the years to come.

I look back on your first Christmas . . . an added special gift under the tree!

 And soon after . . . came the joy of welcoming you to life in Canada!

Another day you will not remember . . . but we will.

By Easter you had grown to be a handsome little man! 

Your clear smiles becoming a regular part of you!  

Koen, your one year has brought us much joy! You are a gift to your mom and Dad . . . your sister and brother and to all who know you! We pray God will continue to bless you with health, a heart that seeks Him and feet and hands to serve Him. May the sparkle in your eyes always be a part of who you are.

We love you,

Papa and Mimi

Homemade Dust Jackets

I’ve learned a new word that may apply to what we used to call book covers. When I was an elementary school girl, we were encouraged to cover our books . . . new or old books . . .  to keep them looking like new. Textbooks were covered so that they could be re-used by another student and sometimes notebooks were covered just to keep them looking nice too.

An email from Julene took me back . . . as she wrote . . .

I covered a book today ... it's an ugly little Indonesian dictionary that I want to put in the guesthouse.

I found a pretty picture in a Martha magazine and as I folded and cut and taped, I remembered you carefully showing me how when I was young. You had loved covering your books back in Brazil when you were a school-girl.

I was reminded about the book cover email when I borrowed a book from a friend. It was a book she’d had on her shelf for maybe 40 years … the cover looking worn and a bit tattered, with scribbles from toddlers who are now grown, adding to the old charm.
I thought I’d share this today . . . even if just to bring back your own buried memories of new pencils, notebooks and schoolbooks.

My thoughts take me to the idea that there seems to be more to book covering than meets the eye.
In one way, it’s a reminder of a time when we valued things because, not often, did we get something brand new. It was a time when our parents tried to stretch the dollar
by mending holes,
taking advantage of large hems
or giving something a good scrub.
Even when they did not have much, there was a sense of pride that caused them to make old things look cared for and beautiful.
I like that.