Just Shine

I am sitting in the MIX...the George Mason University study space...after just dropping Patrick off to his George Mason LIFE program interview. 

On that summer day in July 1999 when Patrick was born,
George Mason LIFE was also in its infancy...almost no other post secondary programs existed in the United States for students like Patrick.

Nobody on the west coast knew of George Mason...or of this possibility...or of what could be.

We heard the word “Sorry” a lot.

“I’m so sorry” they would say as they looked at my sleepy brand new baby.

The incongruence of that never made sense.

Pro-Tip #1: if you see a tiny baby say only one thing: CONGRATULATIONS!

Yes, even if the baby has a heart defect and needs open heart surgery right away.

Yes, even if the baby has Down Syndrome.

Yes, even if the future is unknown.

Say CONGRATULATIONS...because what it has taken for this little sprite to land in our midst is worthy of congratulations.

It’s a miracle.

And the miracle is no less miraculous if the sprite lasts one day among us or lives for 75 years.

Miracles are miracles and they should be noted.

*****

Patrick left his icy cold water (one of his favorite things on the planet) in my bag...
 I text him...asking if he would like me to drop it off.

No response.

The guy is busy with a college interview.

What am I thinking?

I take a swig, just to be close to him.

*****

This moment is so bittersweet...six weeks after Patrick was born I went to my OB/GYN follow up appointment. I took my little baby in a bucket with me...my sweet tiny baby boy who would need open heart surgery in just three more weeks.

The OB/GYN did not know how to speak of Down Syndrome or heart defects or any other “abnormalities”...the privilege of working in a first world hospital made difficult conversations rare, I guess...or maybe there is no training for this...but what she told me in those aching awkward minutes has stayed with me.

She was trying, really she was.

I know this.

And still, it was a stabbing wound, no matter how unintentional.

She said, “Well, I know we all fear our kids growing up and going away and well, that won’t be something you have to fear with your baby. He will always be with you...and I think that’s great.”

Future doctors of the world, take note: this is not something you tell a sleep deprived, anxious, mom of a newborn facing open heart surgery and two other little ones at home.

THINK THIS TO YOURSELF.

You don’t have to try so hard...

Refer back to Pro-Tip #1...say Congratulations...and win the Oscar, mean it.

Even mumbling something about how cute the baby is would work.

As soon as my OB/GYN said this I wondered if that was true...and that’s the beauty of humanity.

We don’t have to believe the stuff they tell us.

We can notice the gates as they are being put up...we can plan to knock them down...or find the entrance.

I have wondered about that prediction for 18 years...but around year 6 I knew it was wrong.

Patrick has no interest in hanging out with me.

After three years of leukemia treatment as a toddler, it was time for Patrick to start kindergarten.

He hadn’t felt good for three of his six years.

Half his life.

I could have home-schooled him...or figured out a modified kinder program for him...but he was determined to go to school with his big brother and sister.

I still consider that one of my greatest acts of kindness as a mom.

I wanted to play with my guy.

I wanted the fun...the laughter...the joy of a healthy Patrick.

I wanted it for me...just me.

He wanted it for the world.

And so I had to follow his lead and find a way to make that happen.

He never looked back.

He never cried to come home...or told me he missed me.

But, trust me, I squeezed him tight every afternoon.

Kindergarten was the preamble to what is happening now...and I feel the same way.

He is following that big brother and sister again...and he knows he’s ready.

Me, not so much...but it can’t be about me, can it.

Getting ready this morning for his George Mason interview, lying in a hotel bed across from me,
he smiled his sleepy smile...one that only a mother knows.

I got up and walked over to his bed and I gave him a good morning hug and I looked at his sleepy eyes up close.

“Patrick, I haven’t told you how proud I am of you. You did such a great job at your Clemson interview and I am so proud of you.”

“Why?” He asks...and I weigh the two opposing ideas: he really doesn’t know or he just wants to hear great things about himself...the reason doesn’t matter and I smile...

“Because your job as a person is to shine your light...you are the only one with your light...and you shined it so bright Patrick that not only could I see it but the Clemson people could too.”

He smiled.

He knew I was right.

Some people ask what the whole point of living is and I think it is just to shine.

There is so much darkness.

So much woundedness.

Too much suffering.

The only way forward is to shine...shine so bright that they need sunglasses to stare.

So, friends, let us work to find more ways for our kids to shine...more ways for ourselves to shine...Patrick is going to find his way, really, it’s pretty obvious now...we all must find our way.

Moments before the Clemson Interview...anxiety free...ready to shine.

Step 1: Just Shine.

On this cloudy day in Fairfax, Virginia, I need my sunglasses.

Come Home For Love

You've probably figured this out by now...but, I'm a writer-downer.

Like a photographer, I love to memorize the moment but I use words instead.

I try to freeze the frame.

Save the scent.

Hold the moment close...because whooooosh --

it's gone.

This week-end, I couldn't write it down.

It was too magical.

Too indelible.

Too important.

My journal lay empty...like a neglected best friend I couldn't even look at it.

I had to tuck it away.

I have no time for you, little book...only her.

This week-end I got to spend with just my big girl, away at her college, submerged in her world, if only for a moment.

I loved every second!

I felt a bit like a runaway as I kissed my little guys good-bye and relied on the kindess of my sister to watch them after school and the awesomeness of my husband to hang with them all week-end as I boarded a plane.

I tried to mix in with the business travelers...

can you say rookie?

It was obvious I didn't have practice at this...but who cares?

I checked into an adorable little hotel right near campus and texted my love bug.

She was done with class for the day and so I set about running errands and crossing off things on the to-do list with her...

step 1: cut the kryptonite lock on her bike since her key was lost

step 2: get a new bike lock

step 3: get ready for dinner at her sorority

step 4: relax with the girlie :)

We found a super nice locksmith who after a few key questions decided we weren't criminals and was willing to break the bike free.

We meandered and found a bike store and found our lock.

We hung out in her dorm room, meeting people from her floor and listening to the various options for Friday night fun in Eugene...turns out there's quite a few.

We had dinner at her house and got the official tour.

Her sorority house has a laundry-chute and sleeping porches and a real house mom who is way older than me named Char.  

Such a dear, dear lady -- oh the stories she could tell!

And then, in a blink, it was all over and Mary Kate had places to go and I needed to get cozy with my book and I planned to meet her in the morning for (of all things) Zumba!

We had plans to meet in front of the recreation center on campus at 10am.  I show up a few minutes early since I'm not at all sure how Zumba works and was hoping for a cheat sheet.

No one was there.

Doors locked.

Zumba on hold.

Turns out that the rec center is pretty much as slow to open on a Saturday morning as the early morning work out crew is.

These are college students after all and weekends are sleep-in zones.

At 10:05am, a million sorority chicks with their moms show up and here comes my girl too.

We head into this amazing place for exercise and fun and we meet the most adorable Zumba teacher in the world.  She teaches us some steps and holds our hand but mostly she gets us going...

dancing and living the words of these Top 40 songs.

Getting older, I've noticed I'm way more sentimental...does this happen to you?

Seeing all of these girls in their work out gear, their pony tails, their bright shiny smiles standing next to their moms tears sprang to my eyes.

Watching this giant group dance and bounce and move to music made me so teary-eyed I had to go into full 

talk-myself-off-the-ledge mode:

You can do this, Beth.

Stop it.

Mary Kate will not understand why you're crying.

Stop it.

Get it under control.

Dance...enjoy this...hold it close...this is one of a kind.

And so I let that music right into my body.

There were at least 100 other people dancing and moving so I didn't mind if my moves were a bit off.

I danced for all of the moms who aren't healthy enough to dance.

I bounced for all of the daughters who couldn't be there.

I thought of the many many mothers who wished they could dance with their daughters and because of a poisonous relationship or a trauma or a distance they just couldn't.

I thought of my friends without daughters...

and my friends without moms.

While I danced I cried.

And sang.

And rocked it out.

I sent out into the universe praise and love for the moms who were working so hard to be a part of this with their daughters.

I hoped their daughters noticed.

I admired the uber-fit moms but knew I wasn't part of their tribe.

I thanked my body for every single step.

I cajoled my heart...and vowed to be more cardiovascular focused in my exercise routines.

But mostly, I couldn't stop smiling...

watching this daughter of mine dancing and singing and getting down with her bad self.

I thought of the many times she danced around our house, singing it out all in the shower...the Top 40 hits blasting from out of her room and in my car when she was home.

How did it go so fast??

The tears of time passing and recognizing just how brief this all is also came to visit.

Deep breaths, Beth.

Time is up, Beth.

Slow clap it in...you made it though Zumba!

After Zumba and a delicious breakfast we ran to the mall, got some printer ink, and went to a drug store for those essential items that no student wants to spend their precious money on.

After that, it was more hanging out in the dorm.

Full fly-on-the-wall status.

It was so comfy listening to these girls talk and tease and make plans...plans for that night and plans for the next quarter and even plans for next year...all in the space of an hour or two.

So many plans...so much to do...so many dreams to chase.

I could have hung around all night...

but they had plans and people to meet and moments to squeeze tight.

Just like that it was time to head home...kiss good-bye...remind myself that it will only be a few more weeks until she's home, dancing under my roof one more time.

In Eugene, I found a cloth bag with the graphic that's on the top of this page.

It stopped me in my tracks:

"See the world, come home for LOVE."

Yep, that's your job, Mary Kate.

Get out there and see the world.

You're doing an awesome job of just that...

but please remember the second half:

Come home for LOVE.

Love is always here.

Always waiting.

Missing you and loving you.

And so very proud of the adventure you're living.

Carpe Diem, Baby Girl.

Nesting Part II

In the fall of 1992, I was pregnant with my first baby.  I went about my days teaching school to some 5th graders and coming home and painting, preparing and otherwise "nesting" in a big way.  That word was unknown to me at the time but I was feathering my nest just like a mother bird...anticipating, smiling, imagining and wondering.  It was a blissful time.  

It was impossible to picture -- us with a baby.

John would take the tiny outfits that we had been given and make the tiny legs walk with their hanger and speak in a  tiny voice..."Here I am!" he would say.

We'd giggle and try to picture us as parents.

Preparing for a baby when it seems that most of the world is preparing for another important birth is extremely special.  It felt like my universe made sense.  I could relate to Mary on the back of that donkey in a big way...and giving birth in a stable didn't seem so bad, better than on the side of the road!

I cherished the idea of a star pointing the way to that stable...loved the royal visitors...every part of the story seemed better for being pregnant too.

As we got the room ready, our hearts ready and our world ready we felt nervous and excited.

There was no way to know how it would all go but it didn't matter.  It felt joyous and right.

And on December 26th, 1992, we met our first born.  He came easily.  He was sleepy and snuggly and the very best bit of Christmas magic around.  We slid into parenthood and marveled.

Nothing can prepare you for the expansion of your heart or the experience of a whole new world.

And so yesterday, as I found myself cleaning and washing and imagining and picturing not just one child coming home from college but two, I couldn't help but smile.

The nesting, it seems, doesn't end.

Like everything, it morphs...

but there is a familiarity to it.

I went into Jack's room yesterday and got it ready.  I lingered over the pictures from high school, the photos, the memories and the feel of having him here.  I moved to Mary Kate's room, changed the sheets, smiled at the pictures and posters and primping supplies left behind in her safe haven.  

It felt a lot like getting ready for babies to be born...and in a way it was...my babies are most definitely in their college cocoon.  They are transforming and growing and changing and slowly being born into adulthood.

It's scary and sacred...just like the months before birth.

So, I guess I'm Nesting Part II.

Who knew that it continued?

Never got that tidbit of info.

But, it doesn't matter.  I'm smiling with anticipation.  I'm looking forward to seeing them both walk off their airplanes...ready to look deep into their eyes, hug them tight and drink them in...just like their real birth-days many moons ago.

Welcome Home sweet ones...we missed you!

The Long and Winding Road

"Whether or not it is clear to you, the universe is unfolding as it should."
      -- Max Ehrmann (Desiderata)

I'm starting this post by saying I'm very fragile right now.  I've actually never felt like this as a parent.  I'm filled with so much nostalgia, love and surreal feeling that I can barely go through my ordinary tasks.  The long and arduous journey of selecting a college for Jack is winding down.  We're close, super close. There's a lot of grace wrapped up in this epic tale which is why it gets a shout out here.

When Jack was born 18 years ago our hearts were overflowing with joy, love and take-your-breath-away wonder.  How could such a miraculous, beautiful soul be a part of us?  How did we get so lucky to share the joys of life and beauty with such a sweet, sweet soul?  Jack is gentle, kind, smart, compassionate, funny and curious. He's cautious and non-confrontational and extremely cool-headed in a crisis.  He is warm and optimistic.  He's pretty incredible and I know that I'm partial to his good points because I'm his mom but I also know that doesn't diminish his incredible-ness.  I take no credit for his ways...he clearly came straight through me.  He has always been his own person and been able to listen to his heart above the noise of the outside world's cacophony. That's just him.

Finding a college for Jack has been both a fabulous adventure and a heart-breaking journey.  Jack's always been one of those kids who loved school.  It came easily to him and he loved learning.  He sailed smoothly through elementary school and junior high and really loved high school.  Finding a college seemed like a no-brainer. When he was a sophomore, Caroline, Jack and I went on a road trip to see 9 colleges in 5 days.  We saw tiny colleges, giant universities, ones on the coast and ones in the city.  We saw Catholic universities and public ones and of course we saw the big names of UCLA and USC.  Jack fell in love with UCLA (who wouldn't?) and came home excited to work hard and make his way.  His high school counselor flat out told him that he wasn't going to be getting into any UC.  Here he was second semester of his sophomore year and it was already out of reach.  We were stunned. How?  His grades weren't perfect but they were strong.  He hadn't taken the SAT yet, how could this counselor look him in the eye and crush a dream? College admittance was treacherous territory.

Turns out that Jack's GPA needed boosting, clearly, but it also turns out that when Jack wants something he goes for it.  He became a very focused student.  He took weighted courses to boost his GPA and he studied like crazy for the SAT.  He also happened to be applying during the very worst year ever.

Junior year, we made road trip #2.  This time we took along Mary Kate and visited a few of the old favorites but a whole host of others as well. I repeated my same speech as the first time: "College is like choosing a favorite flavor of ice-cream.  Every one is delicious and wonderful in its own way; but it is what tastes good to you that matters." We attended a volleyball game at USC's Galen Center.  We watched the band circle the players after the win.  I called John from the gift shop and told him that I'd buy him a T-shirt if he wanted one -- the vortex of Trojan sports had sucked me in! We left USC and made our way to other places along the way.  Jack came home and made a computer collage of CAL, UCLA and USC -- his three favorites -- and placed it above his desk.

This year he crushed the SAT.  He got the best grades of his life and wrote essay after essay hoping to get a shot at one of these schools.  He knew he was throwing up a Hail Mary pass and pragmatically he started making more realistic choices.  He found a few schools where he would safely get in, zeroed in on the famously called "target" schools and kept his eye on the "reach/dream" schools.

Everything today is digital in the application process.  You send in your application online, you ask questions online, and you are notified about your acceptance online.  This unnerved me.  I was constantly worried that nobody received anything; but Jack, who grew up using computers just as often (if not more) than a telephone went with it in his typical easy-going manner. USC offered an optional interview and Jack jumped at it.  Of course, with true Murphy's Law predictability the traffic into Sacramento that day was unbelievable and my normally casual son called me with a shaky voice.  We spoke back and forth for what seemed like ages trying to keep things light and relaxed and knowing the entire time that a dream was being held in limbo.  He made it -- enjoyed it and came home enthused.   After months and months of thinking about it and preparing for it, Jack clicked "send" on all of his applications. Now there was nothing to do but wait.

This period of time was true torture.  We discussed the potential results almost every day.  We tried to predict outcomes, plan contingencies, rationalize away weaknesses in Jack's particular app and visualize the future. In one word: impossible.  Those smart few who applied early found out their news and started making plans.  Christmas came and went. We welcomed in the New Year, 2011, with knowing eyes...where would Jack be?  It was anybody's guess.  Around February it really felt like nobody had received his application.  The mail was empty, the email nonexistent and a big fat silence settled in around our house...tension started to build.  We knew March might start giving results but we didn't know when.  Suddenly, out of nowhere University of Oregon admitted Jack!  Life was good -- Jack had a spot somewhere. :)

Slowly, other schools started trickling in but the big three were set for mid to late March.  In true Foraker fashion, Jack got his first rejection about a half hour before his younger sister's Confirmation.  Extended family was there, waiting on pins and needles, for the website to "go live" so that Jack could check UCLA's information.  Not hearing any screams of joy, I knew.  Seeing him walk downstairs and imperceptibly shake his head ever so slightly "no" brought tears to my eyes and the knowledge that I couldn't let them show.  Hugs all around.  All sorts of rationalizations and excuses about why this couldn't be true for the other favorites came out quickly, too quickly.  The unspoken pain was that we all knew it could easily be the case for the others.  I watched my sweet son congratulate friends on Facebook and be genuine about it.  His heart is big and he was able to recognize someone's else's dream coming true.  The truth is that he handled that rejection a whole lot better than I would have.

And then THE day arrived.  March 24th was going to be the day that CAL released its admits.  We also had heard a rumor that USC was going to be mailing out their acceptances that same week, unusual in this electronic world.  In a weird twist of circumstance, both Jack and Mary Kate were home after school.  A colossal rainstorm had delayed Jack's volleyball game and Mary Kate's lacrosse game.  They were both at home when the mail came at about 4 pm.   John (also randomly home) and ever the casual stealth dad, intercepted the mail and found a "big envelope".  He saw the return address and called for Jack.  Since I wasn't there to witness the opening, all I can tell you is what greeted me at 4:13 pm --  Mary Kate waving to me from the window as I pulled into the driveway.  I walked in saying my prayer that I had said for so many months, "Please Lord, let it unfold the right way." Both Jack and Mary Kate were jumping up and down and I could tell it was something good.  Jack had been admitted to USC but as a spring admit. (What?) Watching his sheer joy, relief and thrill made me get caught up in it too...the USC vortex had reappeared.

Ten minutes later, John, Mary Kate and I were standing behind Jack at his computer upstairs with fingers crossed. We heard the audible sadness at being rejected through a sigh and we knew without having to see the eyes or face filled with that sense of "not being good enough".  For both John and I, we were thrown off.  Jack's dream had (sort of) come true but he had been denied at CAL, the college that seemed to fit him best.  However, watching him shed his disappointment like a skin in a matter of minutes and seeing his ability to find his way in this crazy maze of college acceptances with a clear head made us stop and just drink it in.

We don't know any final answers yet but we do know that he's got some good options and one big favorite.  We'll be practical and visit the top three and make lists of the goods and the bads about each.  We'll find our way to deal with what happens if a spring admittance is really the right choice and we'll take comfort in the fact that the universe is unfolding just the right way.  I have a feeling that I won't be saying good-bye to Jesuit's red and gold for good but it's just a guess. Where he ends up seems like a crazy ride with a little smattering of grace: an interview that happened in spite of terrible traffic, an admission office that believes in the old fashioned idea of snail mail, a rainy day that allowed for a treasure to be given moments before a bitter rejection and a little sister who searched out an old favorite stuffed animal to sleep with the night before the mail came.  Yep, that stuffed animal was "Bavo" the teal green elephant that was purchased in the USC bookstore on that fateful first roadtrip. It's a long and winding road but we're almost there.  With Bavo by our side, it has to be good.

                                                       Bavo, the brave, daring to sit near a Bruin.