Who is that Family?

Ever look at a picture and remember what you were thinking in that moment? I have these pictures hanging in my living room, and we were such a happy little family four years ago. 

But, I know better. 

I see a miserable wife and a teeth clenching husband. I see kids who wondered if their parents would last. I see a family standing in a very dark valley, eclipsed by pretty scenery and bright smiles. Am I the only one who had a season that lingers like a deep stain in the past? If only I could get rid of all reminders. But there was still life there, still love—even if it was put to a fiery test over and over, day after day. 

Sometimes, I wonder what to believe when I scroll through social media. I choose to believe that every smile out there is genuine, and every happy compliment is sincere. But, if you have pictures like me—know. Know that I understand the duality. 

These family portraits are proof that we can fake it. 

I pray that our bumpy past is not “normal”. But then again, I wonder if I could bear the thought that we are the only ones? Messy, ugly, horrible memories amidst tender, loving ones. Glares and biting words and threats of divorce. Children who pretended not to hear, but then implied their knowing—breaking my heart. Over and over. For days. Weeks. Months. 

Praise God that our valley walking brought us up and out—Praise God that even though faith was rocked, He stayed close. But, that time is never far from my thoughts. Sometimes I wonder if we sit in the consequences of that time still—a tinge of resentment, an unsteady trust. Our smiles are more genuine these days though, and our family is good. I’d even say, we are ready to take a different picture, one that will speak truth in every smile.

A Lifetime to Treasure

Ever hold something ordinary that brings you to a place hidden away deep in your memory? Ever burst into tears realizing that a time you'd thought would be ages ahead, has smacked you right dab in the middle of your present reality?

Recently, I received my inherited treasures from my grandparents' estate. My grandmother passed away a few years ago, and we just had my grandfather's ten year memorial service in January.  I've had time to mourn and process and miss them. And time to move forward in my own path of life. I've been at peace in my grief.
I must admit, there is excitement in receiving antiques. A love for history cultivates a great respect for things of old--even if they are just cobbler tools and powder horns. Even if they are hand-shaped ladles and bowls. Simple, ordinary, but treasures to me. I knew I would receive these things and excitedly opened my box.

But what I didn't expect, was to find the pictures of my children and my wedding, still trapped in the same frames my grandmother had once picked out. Our faces staring up at me reminding me that it is finished--that the smiles once gifted to them from me, and placed neatly about their rooms where I'd visit, were now being returned. A flood of emotion struck me hard. Had I really come to this far-off point in my life where all those gifts I'd given were left behind by those I'd love?

Forever placed behind glass by my grandmother.

How could I be here--grandparent-less, inheritor of stuff? How could I be here, finding the space in my own place from a tomb of a house ready to purge all that memory that was my life--my childhood--my foundation?

This is the original frame, about 2 ft
in height. A 1915 Wedding portrait.

Trinkets, early 20th century cobbler tools,
powder horns

Even now, the lump grows in my throat as I lovingly admire the new additions to my home. I guess I have grown up more than I care to admit in my forty years. I used to want to be on top of decorating trends and all the newness seen in magazines and home shows. But trendsetting on my walls and shelves is not nearly as important to me now.

A historical scene I admired as a child,
now graces my dining room

I've got a lifetime of treasures to display. 

A treasured lifetime to remember.

My grandfather inspired my love of architecture, and I always
remember these pictures in their house that now hang in my room.
And that chaise lounge in the corner is the first chaise lounge
I'd ever seen--a luxurious seat that my grandmother
had by her own bed.

A Plea for Our Super Hero: Cystic Fibrosis Needs A Cure

Ever known a super hero?

He always has a great attitude.
And wears his vest twice a day at least!

Ours is a little guy, with blonde curls, a bright smile and eyes that sparkle at the mention of his friends, his God, and his family. Also add ice cream and baseball to that list.

My family is close friends with his family. The second grade super hero has battled Cystic Fibrosis since he was days old. Yesterday, our super hero went in for his eighth surgery. 8 surgeries in 8 years? The kid is amazing. He is the life of the party and has enough energy and joy for two boys!

You would never tell that he is sick. That his lungs don't work properly, and that he spends his mornings and nights day strapped to a machine to keep his chances of health high. Nope, this kid is an amazing little guy and a great testimony to living life to the full e.v.e.r.y d.a.y.

My nine year old, T, loves hanging out with him. He recently hooked up our Wii at their house the night before the surgery so our super hero would have something fun to do while he recovered. 

T has come to me twice now in tears that he wants to cure his friend. That he just wants him to grow old and have kids. That the doctors need to work harder, and that he wants to give all his money to the CF foundation.

Dickens and our super hero!

"What if the doctors are missing something? What if it's simple?"

"I want to find a cure."

Maybe God is planting a calling in my child? Maybe he will be that doctor? Maybe he will cure his friend? One thing is for sure, he has a heart bigger than his nine year old body and feels things deeply. Especially for those he cares about deeply.

T and his super hero with lil bro. No touching water,  just pretending.
C.F. kids can't risk the bacteria in lake water. 

One day, God will use that for amazing things.

Maybe T will be C.F.'s worst enemy? Maybe my son will become a super hero with a cure. Only in the shadow of our super hero today.

A future super hero?

Right now though, I hope that everyone who crosses our super hero's path, feels the urgency to make that advancement in medicine, that need for scientific research, that chance for a super hero boy to grow into a super hero grandpa.

Today, the median survival age for a person with C.F. is close to 40. That's not acceptable. In a time as advanced as we are scientifically and medically, we need to fight harder.

Learn more about Cystic Fibrosis HERE 

Check out your area for the Great Strides walk near you. I know lots of people out there enjoy walking and exercise...do it with a purpose! 

This is my plea as a mom of a kid who has a huge heart and love for his friend, and also, as a friend of a family who live with C.F. every moment and make the most of life every day.

My Joys

So, it's been a rough 2014, but out of all the sadness, loss, and disappointment, I still find joy in several things...(besides my God who gives me ULTIMATE joy)!

I find joy in writing. A new story that has brewed in my heart for years!

I find joy in friendships. My friends have been such a light in my life. What would I do without them??

I find joy in my children. Ah, my children! So sweet and yet, soooooo energetic! HA!

I find joy in my husband. Although it's been a rough time for both of us, he has always showed me love.

And funny enough, with all the seriousness in my life, I find joy in something not so serious but OH SO FUN...Jamberry! My little business venture has been a blast! Check out my website: www.angiedicken.jamberrynails.net 

Have a Happy Tuesday!

Family Spontaneity--Even On A School Night

When I pulled up in the driveway after a school event on Monday night, I'll admit I was a little annoyed that my kids and husband were sitting on the bed of his truck dangerously close to bedtime routine.

But they looked so cozy, with the outdoor heater warming their dangling toes, and their eyes bright with starlight and excitement. They had piled into the truck's bed, procrastinating the responsibility of a school night, all in hopes of seeing a supposed meteor shower that my son learned would occur that night.

It was hard, at first, to not complain. But I couldn't be "that mom" who spoils the fun, especially when the fun spurred from a science lesson at school.

With pillows and blankets, we crammed like sardines (pardon the cliche, but it fits perfectly), and looked up at the glorious pin-prickings above.

There was a moment of pure joy, knowing my family was close, cuddling in that truck bed, none of us wanting to be anywhere else but together side-by-side...
Or rather, arm atop arm, hip crushed in a thigh, elbow in a rib...yeah, the joy-filled moment was fleeting as whining erupted like the expected shower of stars (which we never did see).

Regardless, that small decision of spontaneity will remain a delicate memory for my children, my husband, and me. If I had raised my voice and spoke my irritation immediately, how crushing that moment would have become...how aggravating for my kids...how defining of the typical party-pooper mom that I can be.

Setting aside my agenda to revel in a moment is hardly a natural tendency, but it is one of grace that leads to blessing if I let it. That brings me to my suggested family activity for this TGIF post:

Be spontaneous when least expected!

Feel the rush of abandon alongside your kids as they witness their parents breaking the "rules", every once in a while, in the name of FAMILY FUN!

A Telling Heart Ache

It's cloudy, cold, rainy, and windy today. I'm not really sad about it, since I had to stay home with a sick child anyway. This change in weather puts me in a cozy mood...I long for a family night where we snuggle on the couch, eat homemade pizza, watch a movie, all with a fire in the fireplace. Actually, it has been my plan all day, and we will probably stick to it...the only think that bums me out, is my 8 year old's quick "hi and goodbye" when I came to his school. He and a friend planned a sleepover. Usually, this is fine, and I love saying yes to him, because he absolutely loves to be social.
 But I already miss him! 
The end of the week feels like a time for our family to come together and reconnect...I don't know why, because we've nixed all our evening activities, so we've had plenty of time time together. Maybe it's those apron strings hanging on by a thread?

Whatever it is, I am sure I'll get over it soon.

 Sometimes I think my heart aches like this for the small things, so I'll treasure the time in preparation for the big things.