Family Newsletter

The following is a long letter I wrote to a dear friend of mine for Christmas.

Lisa,

I just got your family newsletter, along with the precious pictures. I’m so glad you wrote me; I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, wondering how you’re doing and how in the world to get a hold of you. I’m sending you pictures of my two little ones, and their yearly Santa pictures. Aren’t they cute!

I’m just not the newsletter type, I’m sorry to say. I never know what to say in those things, since a lot of people tend to see them and I don’t know how personal to be but don’t like the newsy tone of a lot of them. So I don’t write them and I don’t get a hold of the people I need to. So I make phone calls, but if I don’t have the numbers—again, folks don’t get contacted. So like I said, I’m thankful that you initiated. Things get so busy for us around here. If you called, though, I’d make the time and talk at ya. Please call me, anytime, even if it’s collect.

I read your letter with a heavy heart, my dear, dear friend. You’ve had a rough year. Please know that although we didn’t speak, I thought of you and prayed for you and your family often. I’ve always marveled at your honesty, faithfulness to God and the people you love, and your steadfastness. Please never doubt how deeply I love you, or how much God loves you. ‘Cause we do, girlfriend!

Oh, how to summarize the last year of our lives! I’ll start with work. I’m still doing psychosocial rehabilitation, an intensive Medicare program here in Idaho, working with clients with chronic and persistent mental illnesses. I have four clients now, so my work load is slowly increasing. Things are slow now, during the holidays, but I hope that things will pick up after the New Year. I love the work; it’s frustrating at times, and I mostly feel very inadequate doing it, but these crazy folks keep drama without it actually impacting my own life.

Married life—whoa! It truly is a vocation, huh? Being married to my Jon is a challenge at times, but we face none of challenges you do. I ache for you; I know it must be lonely at times. Jon’s working full-time doing engineering again, so he’s routinely frustrated and has a tendency to take it out on me and the kids. He makes me crazy at times; plus, we don’t have the time and energy for intimacy or spending much time together. Our house is a mess, full of half-completed constructed projects, making it barely livable. I get discouraged at times, but then I read your letter and wonder why I complain so much. Yes, Jon has his issues, as we all do, but he tries to communicate and actively tries to do right by me and the kids.

One little example to prove my point. We visited my brother and his family near Seattle for Thanksgiving (a six-hour drive) this year. My daughter AnnaRose discovered my niece’s guitar and glommed onto it, throwing an uncharacteristic fit when we had to leave it behind. Jon came up with the idea of buying her a guitar for Christmas, so we did. She got it just yesterday, and has been inseparable. She’d sleep with the thing if she could! (To be fair, we’ve ordered another guitar for big brother George.) So my sweet but often clueless husband was observant enough to notice Anna’s interest and act upon it. Not all husbands would be able to do that, I know.

Speaking of the kids—well, we’re busy. I try to keep a positive spin on things where they’re concerned. We’re busy because they’re in lots of programs and therapies, all of which I have to manage. Yes, it’s a challenge for this unorganized woman! Sometimes I forget their challenges, that they’re developmentally disabled and not like other kids their age. Another story—Anna, my mother-in-law, and I attended George’s first Christmas pageant last week.

It was one of those bittersweet moments that took me completely by surprise. I wrote about it more extensively on my blog (yes, I have a blog!), so if you have internet access, you can read about it here. To summarize, it again made it apparent to me that George is different than other kindergarteners. He’s special, he’s sweet, but he can’t do the same things as other six year-olds. As his mom, I forget about that sometimes. Most of the time, I just take him and his sister for who they are, so every once in a while, I’m confronted with the facts, and it’s often emotionally tough to take. Having kids with disabilities is a grieving process, as I’m sure you’re discovering with Laurelle. I’ve become an expert in raising kids with disabilities, so I understand what you’re going through. They’re precious and a great blessing from God, but it’s a difficult life.

The good news is that they’re healthy and happy. This is the first year we haven’t had to get any antibiotics prescribed for them. They’re progressing. George hasn’t had a seizure for over a year and a half. They’re great, and actually quite easy. They don’t have temper tantrums and get over things easily. They love music, and Sesame Street and the Wiggles. George is the best snuggler in the world and is really good at getting away with stuff, and Anna gives the best hugs and makes me laugh everyday. So I’m actually lucky and greatly blessed by God.

See, I believe that God gave me these children, and has given me the task of raising and loving them. I believe that I’m uniquely adapted for the job. I believe that I’m the best person for it. Jesus meets me daily through these kids, so it’s easy to not be resentful about the task. As my spiritual director (a dear nun in her 80s) says, the burden is light. One of the things that keeps me close to Jesus is my kids. Yes, I’m still doing the Catholic thing, without Jon but with my mother-in-law, who has become one of my closest friends.

Catholicism feels right, like being home. I’m still learning about it, though. I serve Communion and read scripture during mass monthly. You know me, gotta be involved in church. I’m learning how to pray, really. Being Catholic helps me follow Jesus, and keep my passion for him. So I’m feeling closer to God these days than I have for many years. I guess my biggest spiritual issue is not having enough grace with myself. I’m much too hard on myself. But that’s not something you can relate to, right, my friend?

Man, this letter is way too long, but I feel led to encourage you. Lisa, you’re like a sister to me, and my heart aches for you. You deserve so much better. Please know that I love you deeply and that it’s just an inkling of how much God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ loves you. I wish I could be there for you more. I pray for you a lot, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Intellectually, I know it is. If writing you like this helps, please let me know and I’m there. I intend to call you in the next week, so expect it!

Please pray for me, too. My little heart gets way too discouraged way too much, for very little reason. You can pray for my marriage, as I’m praying for yours. My dad has had some major health issues this year as well. In October, he had a quadruple bypass, and he may have lung cancer. This is, of course, after a lifetime of smoking, but it’s still very scary. As my youngest brother said to me yesterday, we’re looking at a rough year. My dad has never met AnnaRose, so please pray that we gather enough finances and time to visit him soon. Give my best to your mom, and let her know that she’s in our thoughts and prayers.

Again, I apologize for the length of this letter. You know me—longwinded. But I thank God for our friendship through the years. You are my sister, and I love you dearly.