We've got Karoline...

 On Friday afternoon, just before about a million people descended upon our house to wish Paddy farewell, Mike called a family meeting. The purpose, he explained, was to talk about how we were feeling with the whirlwind events leading up to Patrick's departure. We wanted to make sure that the little ones understood that he was going and that contact would be limited and they wouldn't see him for several months. Mike started with Karoline:

Kari, what do you think about Paddy joining the National Team?

I think it's totally not fair that he gets to go to school and I'm stuck here in preschool.

Nothing like a little laughter to break the tension.

Nick, what about you?

Well, I think it's cool that he's going to play for the National Team and I can brag about it tell all my friends that my big brother is on the US Team, but, [chin quivers, eyes fill], there won't be anyone big here to play backyard soccer with me. Paddy's totally cool...[dissolve]

Karoline pipes up: But you have me. I can play with you in the backyard. I'll make you happy.

On to Katie.

[crying] I'm going to miss him... [dissolve]

Karoline, again: But you have me! I will play with you and make you happy!

Stephen's turn.

What Nick said. 

Karoline, again: But you guys... you have ME!

And so it went. Karoline determined to make up for anything lacking in Paddy's absence.

Yesterday evening, I surveyed the state of my house which was absolutely showing signs of neglect. I sighed, "I guess I really do need to re-work the chore chart." I'd been putting it off and putting it off, not knowing exactly how to fill his shoes without completely overwhelming Mary Beth. "Ugh," I said to anyone within earshot, but mostly Stephen, "how in the world are we going to redistribute?"

Stephen shrugged, hoping against hope that he wasn't going to get extra chores.

That's easy! piped the golden-curled one. You have me. I don't have any chores on the chart, so cross out Paddy and write "K-A-R-I" Easy peasy.

So, if you happen by my house and glance at the chore chart on the refrigerator and wonder why my three- year-old is in charge of the mudroom,  the boys' laundry, the kids' bathroom,  wiping down the kitchen at the end of the day, and turning off the lights at night, it's because she wanted it that way;-).

And Karoline, don't worry when you get to that last light and you're too scared to turn it off and go upstairs in the dark. 

Paddy never did. He was scared, too.

Daybook on the Feast of St. Augustine

Outside My Window

A beautiful, unseasonably cool day.

I am Listening to

The little girls “reading” What Do You Say Dear?

Stephen and Nicky talking about how they’re going to work out and get really big and make the National Team…

I am Wearing

A yellow t-shirt that says Virginia State Champions  2009 U14 and a pair of Umbro sweatpants that I’ve long coveted. They are were Paddy’s. He’s sponsored by Nike now and can’t wear any of its competitor’s clothes. Adidas anyone? We have plenty.

I am so Grateful for

~dear friends who have been tender and kind in so many ways.

~ a bushel of peaches on a day when rhythm and beauty around the kitchen island brought comfort and

~ the person who knew that peaches would be a very good idea. That would be the same person who got up early to sit with me at Nicky’s soccer game right after Paddy took off and just talk about normal stuff.

~my mother and stepfather who made a computer possible for Patrick and thereby guaranteed we’ll see and hear him often.

~the chance to see how much my kids care about each other.

~sweet blond heads on my shoulders.

~gifts and blessings, even when it’s really, really hard to see that’s what they are.

~ Patrick, who assured me it was good enough.

~ Mike, because…

I'm Pondering

I have sometime placed my hopes in my own virtue, which was no virtue; and when I attempted to run, thinking I was very strong, I fell very quickly and went backward instead of forward. What I expected to reach, disappeared, and thus, O Lord, in various ways You have tested my powers. ~St. Augustine

I am Reading
Nothing. I can’t concentrate right now. Surely this week that will improve.

I am Thinking

I think that any time a child leaves home, it’s only natural to think reflect on our role in that child’s life. When we homeschool, the role is such a large, all-encompassing one. When a homeschooled child graduates and moves into the next stage, we think about a job completed—what we did right, what we’d do differently. I did that when Michael left. It prompted stinging criticism at a time when I was already raw. So, we’re not going there this time. And this time is different. This time, I wasn’t finished. I had four days to take a child who’d never stepped foot in a classroom and ship him off to boarding school almost a thousand miles away. This time, he left three years earlier than I thought he would. And so, I’m definitely thinking big thoughts. This time, I know better than to share and I’m keeping them very much in my heart. But I offer this for your pondering: if your child unexpectedly left home and went to school next week, no doubt there would be things undone, well-laid plans untouched. But off he’d go and you would be left to think about what you did do, what you did offer. Are you doing things in the right order? Would the important things be done?

I am Creating

Zilch. I am so exhausted that I’m just sitting here waiting for life to happen. It always does.

On my iPod

My Wish. I’m not listening to it though.

Towards a Real Education

On Monday, we will settle into our new normal. I will be grateful for the sweet faces around my table and the opportunity to begin again, a great deal older and wiser, I think, than I was just a month ago.

Towards Rhythm and Beauty

Remember this line, from last week?

Until the inevitable unplanned….

Oh my. The inevitable unplanned. And then some.

To Live the Liturgy

Having trouble getting through Mass without crying. No doubt that will improve, too.

I am Hoping and Praying

~for Patrick, who starts school on Monday, for his teachers, his coaches, and all the people who will touch his life for the next fourteen months. Please, God, be with them all.

~with gratitude for the Campus Ministry at George Mason University, which has been everything I prayed it would be three years ago, and so much more.

~for Michael, who begins his final semester on Monday.

In the Garden

Paddy, I promise—I really, really promise—to take very good care of your roses.

Around the House

The house is trashed. I’ve been gone for the better part of the last two weeks. And the people who moved out of here? The left huge messes in their wakes. Monday we clean. Cleaning is always healing.

From the Kitchen

Peach pies and peach crisp. And we cooked a lot last week. Paddy in the kitchen is a happy thing and we were going for lots of happy. This week, we tweak the menus and make sure they work with the fall schedule. And there will be apples—lots and lots of apples.

One of My Favorite Things

Skype.

Sarah Annie this week

Sweet darling. Snuggle in and sing to me in that dear voice. Be patient as I hold you and inhale your baby head. Know how much you are loved and hear me promise again to treasure every moment.

A Few Plans for the Rest of the Week

Colleen and her boys will spend part of this week with us. We’re planning to go apple picking on September 1^st. I am astounded by God’s providence. Last year, I wanted so badly to be with her. This year, we’ll mark the anniversary together. God is good.

Picture thoughts:

 

Sarah picked the picture this week.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.[ This isn't really a moment I want to savor, but it's a real moment. I look like I've been crying for days and I'm trying not to cry again. I do, however, want to savor all the moments like this one that we've gathered over the course of a childhood. It's a happy place--that kitchen of ours.] If you're inspired to do the same, visit Soulemama to leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Before He Goes for Real

It's going to be a quiet week.

...on the blog, that is; certainly not at home.

Patrick called from camp yesterday to tell us he's been invited to join the U17 National Team Residency Program for the year. He flew home last night and needs to let them know today.

He leaves to go live in Florida on Saturday.

I've been awake much too long and had far too many intense conversations to begin to convey the experience here. We're going to be very busy the next few days getting him ready to go.

In the mornings, he will train. In the afternoons, he'll be going to school at St. Stephen's, an Episcopal school in the area. When he's traveling, they will travel tutors with him. Today we begin gathering what he needs before he leaves. He's got a huge list of school supplies--including uniforms--definitely uncharted territory in this house.  I'm sort of grateful that the shopping will give me something to keep my hands busy and productive. It's a lot to do in a very short time, but maybe that's for the better.

In two weeks, he leaves for a ten day trip to Spain, the first of many international adventures this year. While in Florida, he'll be living in the dorms at IMG Academy, an elite sports training facility. You can read about it here. The alumni links are pretty interesting.

Paddy has always done things with intensity, usually earlier than anyone else. So, I guess this should not catch me by surprise the way it does. The thing about a gifted child, though--they tend to make themselves the center of the universe. We're all feeling a little knocked out of our orbits this morning.

So, it will be quiet on the blog the rest of the week, as we gather and prepare (and party a little). If you think of us, might I ask a particular prayer?

Patrick was born on a Sunday morning, just a little before noon. We were home by evening. Mike tucked me and the baby into our bed, with Michael and Christian on the other side of us. There was no room for him, so he went to sleep by himself in the spare bedroom. In the middle of the night, he came in and stretched his 6'4" frame across the foot of the bed. Half asleep, I asked him what he was doing.

"I missed him. I didn't want to be so far away."

And so it's been, for Paddy's whole life. Please pray for them.

Giving Voice

The most interesting thing has happened over the course of the last few weeks. Some events in my very real, up-close life have conspired to completely reverse my opinions on social networking. (You can stop laughing, Dallas.) Maybe someday, I'll tell the story on these pages. For now, though, I'm uniquely grateful for the blessings born here on this blog and in the community of blogging women. I'm seeing the genuine joy a blog can be for the first time in a long time.

This morning, my dear friend Ann gave voice to a balm for the painful wounds of saddened friendships. It was a privilege and a joy to hear her dear voice across the miles as she uttered these sweet words: 

"I promise I will never speak an unkind word to or about you. I will never be jealous of you. I will never compete with you. I will never abandon or betray you. I will love you. I will pray for you. I will do all I can to help you go far and wide in the Kingdom. 

I will accept you as you are, always. I will be loyal to you. Before our loving God of grace, you have my words and my heart in friendship for this life and forever with Him.”

A gift. An amazing gift of true charity. Do listen to her whole message.

This afternoon, I was privileged to join a another dear friend across the miles. There is no wound so painful, no hurt so raw as a mother's heart just after she sends her firstborn to college. I know. Three years ago, I was there. And on the way home, I pulled over and called Dallas. (How funny, all these things keep ending up in Dallas. Huh. I'll have to think on that one day.) Anyway, I called Dallas. And the voice on the end of the phone told me to go buy a tablecloth. I can't remember why. But I remember the tablecloth. More than that, I remember the gift of love that was her voice. She was a woman "met" in the blogosphere, reaching across the miles with genuine charity.

Today, I talked with Lisa Hendey just moments after she watched her elder son take flight, bound for Harvard, three thousand miles from home. Sweet Rachel Balducci joined us--nothing like a southern accent and a warm shoulder to ease the pain and share the burden. Looking back, I still can't believe we put these moments on record and shared them. But I think they'll bless you. I know that conversation genuinely blessed me. Please listen. 

And offer a prayer for Lisa. Because it really does hurt in a way that only God can heal.