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Reach beyond the stars, Sister

Well, Sister – here we are! It’s your birthday and now in the eyes of the world you are an official adult.  Of course to your dad, you will always be his little girl, but slowly I have watched you shift from little girl to vivacious teenager to incredible young woman.  There have definitely been bumps in the road and moments when I thought we would never get beyond, but somehow we made it through.  Even though you are definitely Dad’s best buddy, you still carry some of my dreams as well.  Your two biggest being exactly the same as mine – to be a teacher and a momma.

Some day when that second dream comes to fruition, you will learn that you will go away for a day and when you come back you will see that your babies have shot up overnight.  When you are with them every day, you don’t always notice the incremental changes that are happening right before your eyes.

Trust me, I blinked and you were running your own schedule and doing all the things a girl ready to launch into the world should be doing. Okay, maybe except keeping your room clean, but for the rest of it, you are doing a great job.

Another thing you will wonder both when you are a teacher and later as a momma is whether the rest of the world can truly see how amazing your sweet students or babies really are. Often times the world values conformity and its false promises of popularity and comfort, and others will miss how unique and special each child’s sparkle and shine truly are.

I’ve always known that your smile could fill a room.


Even after getting life-saving injections on your birthday, you’re still smiling!

I have watched amazed as you love with abandon on children and those the rest of the world calls different. While it is true that a momma is only happy as her saddest child, it is also true that mommas beam when they see their children’s dreams richly rewarded.  I was blown away by how your work ethic and volunteerism were acknowledged and honored.  (Really how many high school seniors walk across the stage having volunteered over one thousand hours in four years?) You earned two of the most prestigious scholarships ever awarded at the school by being uniquely you as a student, a student-athlete, and community member.



PEO STAR Scholarship Award Winner

I walked out of the school that night realizing that the world indeed also sees you as an incredible force for love and change.  Since one of the scholarships was for the empowerment of young women, I could almost envision other women passing the torch to you to continue to love and serve others. For this momma, it was a “pinch me” moment.  I know there were others there that night that wondered what makes Erin so special that she walked away with so much.

I know. I’ve always known.

Very few get to witness the moments that we do like the other night at the dinner table.  We shared with you one of those sweet little kiddos you love was in the hospital and was struggling.  Most your age would offer to pray or to help with working around the family’s house or even offer to do some fundraising, but you are definitely not most.  Nope. Not our girl. And for that you will always stand out.  The first thing you asked was, “Can I be tested to give her one of mine?” I had to wipe away a tear after I explained that unlike getting a donor ligament for your knee, giving away your organs (even if you were a match) would mean the end of your college basketball career. Without even hesitating, you replied, “I would still do it.”

That is the heart of a world changer and for that heart and all her goofy antics and dreams we could not be more proud.

Never, not once ever, conform to what the world thinks you are capable of doing.

Reach beyond the stars, Sister, because you are capable of outshining them all.

Happy Birthday, Super Star! Happy Birthday!

Love, Momma

Looking Up Changes Everything

FullSizeRender (5)Dear Reed –

I can hardly believe that on this day 22 years ago I was sitting in a white-walled hospital room holding the tiniest baby I had ever seen, basking in the glow of realizing that this tiny human was a part of me.  Your itsy-bitsy red curls totally melted my heart. Even though Reed was a family name, it wasn’t until, like most new parents, we poured through baby books that I learned that Reed meant red-haired. Examining every inch of you from your long fingers to your miniscule red curls, I was in awe of the miracle of you.

Even after all these days, I am still awed by you and how your story touches others which is why there are some days that I just offer God tears. I know He collects every salinated drop in His bottle and I know he understands because He too lost a Son.  He knows all the moments I am doing okay, and He celebrates on the days when I find true joy. But He also knows the inner recesses of my heart when I am struggling even when I tried to convince my heart I wouldn’t be.

Four years ago when your class graduated from high school, I struggled for the obvious reasons, but even more so after we had been told you and Jesse might not be remembered at graduation because it might make others feel uncomfortable.  Heartbroken doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt that day.  Once that ceremony was over, I tried to convince myself that the remaining big moments wouldn’t sting as bad because there were no guarantees that you would have done other milestone events like graduate college, get married, and have a family.  Graduate high school was a slam dunk but the others aren’t necessarily things that everyone does.

The lies I told my heart were compelling for a long time. Four years in fact.  Four years that snuck up on me before I even realized it.  Then I saw one picture after another of your friends in graduation gowns, and my fractured heart splintered into a million pieces.

For a while I just endured days trying to keep busy.

The sadness didn’t completely lift, but a few things along the way lifted the fog of grief.  Faithfully, one of your best buddies comes every Mother’s Day with flowers and superhero card just to love on me.  He does it for you and for me, and even now I tear up thinking about his love. Then on scholarship night for Sister, there was that same buddy’s mom wearing a Reed’s Run t-shirt. A phone call from another grieving mom inquiring about Sister’s graduation, but sharing her sincere prayers for the milestones we would endure during this season reminded me that we weren’t alone.

Grief ebbs and flows and time stands still for no mom.  Knowing others are thinking of us eases the pain. There are still those moments that the floodgates open and the tears of all the dreams dashed come pouring out.

Today was one of those days . . . until a divinely appointed phone call.

The voice on the other line was another grieving mom who just felt God nudging her to call me.  Prior to her call I was eyes glued to my computer screen working on homework (which I was woefully behind).  We haven’t talked in months, but today, she called to ask for my help.  When I shared I couldn’t pull myself away, my to-do list was too long, she understood.  Then, I explained my heart wasn’t up to company because today was your birthday.  She truly jumped into action asking what she could do to help. I simply requested prayers.

The entire time my heart and my eyes were downcast.

Just listening to her desire to love me in the storm of sadness, my spirits lifted. And so did my eyes.

I am so incredibly thankful they did.  I care a lot about being a good student, and rushing headlong into homework seemed an appropriate way to busy my thoughts and to numb my heart from the truth of today – another birthday without you.  If my friend hadn’t called me, I never would have looked away from the computer screen.

See, my sweet boy, often we let the worries and the cares of the world hold us down.  Rather than clinging to the author of hope, we shrink under all that we are not capable of doing. We forget to look up.  That simple act of defiance in the face of the storms of life, brings our eyes heavenward.  I know you know all about this, but here on earth we are still capable of doubt, sadness, and forgetting to tell the storms to whom we belong.

In a fleeting moment, heaven touched earth. Just as I looked up, right in my line of vision the most beautiful cardinal alit on the deck right outside my window. He lingered for a bit as if to say all was going to be okay.  My heart and soul were comforted and soothed.

I will always miss you in the big stuff like birthdays, but more so in the little stuff that define the extraordinarily ordinary days where life happens.  Nothing will ever beat your sneaky behind the back hugs, but someday I will hug you again.

Today, I am so thankful that God reminded me that when life has me down, I just simply need to look up. I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday celebration mixing a bit of heaven into it. Wishing you the happiest of birthdays. You will always be my sunshine!



red balloon

We closed our evening looking up to heaven thinking of you!

Well done, old boy. Well done.

huck snowDear Huck-y:

There has been a long hiatus on my blog site, and most people would think this is due to my being a doctoral student or being busy with book talks and signings or being wrapped up with hosting a graduation party for Sister.  While all of those things were definitely contributing factors, my heart knows the truth.  I typically write my blogs in the order of the story of my life.  No matter how many times I sat down to put this one together, I simply couldn’t finish it.

My heartache was just too deep and my tears too plentiful to pen the story of our goodbye.

I think most people would be shocked to learn that I didn’t like you much in the beginning.  I can almost picture the shock on their faces when I would have to honestly tell them that I wanted to consider rehoming the most loving, loyal, gentle, and affable dog and best friend a boy (and later a family) could ever have.  Hopefully their appalled countenances would soften when I explained there was some reasoning on my part.  I’m sure you have forgotten this, but at only six months old you were a dynamo. So much so that you knocked me out at the end of the driveway once, and I just laid there at the end of the road every part of me hurting after slamming to the pavement with tears streaming down when I came to. Now I’ve cried a million tears since you went home to be with your boy.   

Back then, my heart softened as I watched Reed (and Dad) work with you and saw just how obedient you truly were.  Well, when obedience was asked of you and when it didn’t involve anything that had to do with food.  You were a true champion in 4H dog shows, but in the real world of dog showing you would have been disqualified for being too big for the breed confirmations.  I used to joke that Reed loved you to gargantuan size like the other famed big red dog of children’s book lore.  The fact that your head without much effort could rest on the dining room table meant that sandwiches feared you. When Sally Gal arrived in our lives, your favorite spot at the table was right next to her.  It is a wonder that she grew at all with the stealth of your moves.  One of the things that left me less than enamored early on was when you devoured the faux fur collar from my grandfather’s police coat, and we still shudder thinking about the aftermath of the “What happened to the 3 pounds of butter, bag of apples, and pound of brown sugar?” incident when we stepped away for mere minutes to the neighbor’s garage sale. Your appetite was legendary and when you wouldn’t eat, we knew we couldn’t selfishly try to keep you here any longer.

If there was ever a definition of poetry in motion, watching you run down the dock and jump into the lake would be about as close to perfection as any. You were truly a water retriever and secondly only to loving all of us and food, any body of water was your happy place as you would swim chasing one thrown stick after another.  I always worried that we were overdoing it, and just like the way you would wedge your head under hands for one or a thousand more pats on the head or rubs behind the ears, you would gently nudge us to throw the stick one more time.  You taught us how to embrace life, pursuing the things you loved relentlessly and keeping those you loved close.

cloie & huck

Although you took a few years to grow into your amazing self and you never could resist the lure of a “free” lunch, there was never one moment of your life that you didn’t give every ounce of your energy into loving us and truth be told, loving anyone you ever met.  You always desired to be proximally close to those you loved – sitting at our feet, laying in the bed, standing at attention behind me in the kitchen, or my personal favorite as some sort of newfangled iron on newly folded laundry.  To you, loving meant being close, really close, to those you loved. Of course in your older years that loving did not extend to anyone who sat in your spot on what you believed to be your couch.  Who were we to argue with the one who showed us daily how to love intensely?

On more than one occasion I thanked God for you in my prayers.  Your love carried us through our greatest sadness which was the loss of your one true love.  You were simply regal laying at the base of his casket as we had to say so long for now to your boy.  One of the other pallbearers later confessed he wanted to break down and sob at the services and would have if it weren’t for you.  Faithful to the final moments, you held your head high honoring the boy who was your best friend.  Even though you didn’t quite understand all that was happening (because you looked for your boy for months afterward), on that day, you showed the world the meaning of loyal companion. Even though we know you were grieving too, you tenderly cared for each one of us.  Lying in bed with me when I had no prayers other than tears to offer God, never leaving the kids sides after surgeries, and just being with Dad when he needed to retreat to his quiet corner to mourn.  Just like those days when we joked about you being the Sheriff and your faithful sidekick, the stuffed cow, was the Deputy as the two of you patrolled the perimeter of our yard, you faithfully and fiercely monitored each of us as we tried to live with the same heartache you felt.  A truer friend we will never find.

Even though we had a rocky start, by the time we came to the territorial couch years, I couldn’t have cared two hoots about what anybody thought about that arrangement.  That was your spot and anyone else needed to move.  Since you went home to heaven, I have cried about a million tears. For days I turned around to give you a little piece of whatever I was cooking, only to break down and sob because you weren’t there.  And I know that there will be some who won’t understand that bond, but those that do, will know that you were the last living piece of Reed.  Yes, we carry him in our hearts, but you were a living breathing extension of his love. We knew the day would come. Everyone who loves a dog knows it. There would be times we thought it was the time, but then you would have a miraculous recovery, holding on a bit longer because your work on earth wasn’t quite done. We know that you held on waiting until you knew we were ready to navigate this world without you.

You and your timing were right.  In the end, we had to tell you it was okay to go on home. A few years earlier and we would have selfishly asked you to stay, but on that day we knew you had loved and protected us with every last ounce of your energy. Through our tears, we can only imagine that Reed was standing right there with his arms wide open waiting to say, “Well done, good and faithful friend. Well done.”


Stay by his side, Huck-y.  Stay really close until we can find you both in heaven.








Her heart gives back

I will never forget the phone call I received in the summer of 2008 from a complete stranger.   The lead off question was one that made my heart skip a beat. Are you the mom of Erin Stevens? After acknowledging I was indeed that momma, the caller went on to tell the tale of something that happened at a benefit for a husband and daddy who lost his battle with depression.  The caller was one of those in charge of the benefit for her friend, the wife and momma left behind.  I was unable to attend the benefit because I was traveling to yet another hospital visit with our son; so I didn’t see any of what occurred. At some point in the evening the workers noticed that their children – all of them – were missing.  One of the moms went out to do a cursory search and didn’t have to go very far to discover that all of the children were playing games, organized and led by this little girl she didn’t know, whom she described as the Pint-sized Pied Piper of Children.  She went back and told the other parents what she had seen.  Another parent, now curious, had to go see for herself.  When she returned, she told the others – don’t you know who that little girl is? Most did not.  The one who did explained – that is Erin Stevens.  You know, she and her brothers were in the school bus crash.  One brother died and her other brother has been in and out of the hospital. I think she was hurt too.

By this point in the conversation, I was silently sobbing, hanging on every word.  The caller too became choked up and said, I want you to know that you have raised an amazing daughter.  In the midst of what I can only imagine has been your family’s worst nightmare, your little girl saw a need and stepped in to help. She went on to say that our Sister made sure that everyone was included, felt special, and most importantly was loved while their parents were occupied serving others.  When I hung up the phone, I simply sat and cried. God’s light shines brightest in the darkest moments of life.  I eventually composed myself long enough to ask Erin if anyone had asked her to do this, and in her sweet little 9-year-old voice she replied, No, but someone needed to do it. I was happy to help because lots of people have helped us.

Trauma changes everything about life, including your DNA. I wish that I could go back in time and insulate my children from the horrors of life, but if I did, I would miss out on seeing how they have risen above those dark moments to see what is really important in life.  One of those things would be Sister’s heart driven to pay-it-forward, because like me she knows that we can never repay all the kindnesses lavished on our family.

From that moment at the ballpark years ago until today, she has actively given back to others.  In the 5th grade, she organized a couple classmates and together they secured donations and assembled almost 200 care kits for Haitian refugees.  Her volunteerism and community minded service has given her purpose and helped her define who she wants to be in this world. She has learned she definitely wants to be a teacher, using her life experiences to help children, but especially those who might struggle in life and in the classroom. The thing that amazes me and makes me so proud is that she doesn’t volunteer to draw attention to herself or because it is mandated by any group, organization or school.

She gives back because she cares. It is really that simple. 

Most who know her know her for her laugh, her involvement in athletics, her amazing skills as a babysitter and nanny, and perhaps if they read the right newspaper her commitment to academics. But here is a momma’s chance to do a little bragging.  Even despite having nine surgeries in the last four years, she has maintained honor roll status while taking both high school and college courses, is a triple sport athlete, maintains three jobs, and has volunteered over 200 hours each year of high school.  Despite the demands of being a student and an athlete, when she walks across the stage at graduation, she will have given back 1000 hours of service to the local communities.

I was beyond thrilled to hear that we weren’t the only ones impressed by this dedication to service.  I recently received an email from our local Coca-Cola Bottling Company saying that Erin had been chosen as one of the finalists for the 2nd Annual Powerade Athletes of The Year Award because of her commitment to academic excellence and community outreachMelt this momma’s heart!

If selected, she will earn a $1000 scholarship which will help her continue chasing her dreams of becoming an elementary and special education teacher.

George Washington Carver once said, “How far you go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant of the weak and strong. Because someday in your life you will have been all of these.” I am completely biased, but I think she has a good head start on each of those. No matter where life takes her, I know that there will be all kinds of hearts touched by her willingness to love.

And isn’t that what life is all about, being remembered for the ways you have loved others?

Please consider voting daily for our Sister (Erin Stevens) in the Powerade Athlete of the Year Scholarship contest.

Here are just a few of the moments that I have captured of her out and about in the community.

nursing home1

Compassionate with the aged

Every time she visits the nursing home, especially the Alzheimer’s wing, she has a great rapport with the residents.  For his and his family’s privacy and dignity, we have covered his face.  She loves when her friend offers to give her a ride to New Ulm.  Last time, she told him that they better hit the show while they were there too!

Special Olympics

Brave with the awesome! GWC didn’t say this, but he would if he knew these athletes!

This was her last season coaching with the Special Olympics basketball teams before heading to North Dakota to attend college next year.  Her team brought home silver medals.


Tender with the young

On her college signing day, she was surprised by the 3’s Preschool class where she has been a volunteer for two years! They arrived with a banner they created and said they couldn’t miss her BIG day because they are her BIGGEST fans!

Project Reed

The joy of being an educator is unmatched. Ours is a career where not only do we impact today, but everyday through our words and actions we shape tomorrow.  In the present, we see how big of a difference our students will make because there are the times when students simply blow you away with their talents, thoughts, skills, and kindnesses.  One such moment with the latter recently, humbly left me in tears,speechless.  Some of “my” university seniors came to the realization that our sweet boy would be a senior just like them.  Understanding that the year would be bittersweet for me, they decided to put together an amazing tribute that resulted in remembering Reed by honoring one of his favorite groups of people.  With the support of a grant through Modern Woodmen and resources from the campus Veteran’s Organization, a graduation project for him which truly touched my heart materialized.  The letter that follows accompanied 27 blankets shipped to Marines serving overseas.  The email which follows that left our whole family in tears as we realized that Reed’s story continues to touch the lives of others.

Dear United States Military Personnel –

What you see before you is a few yards of fleece, lovingly cut and tied together to keep you warm.  If that is all you see, then we have failed in our mission, not only to help keep you warm, but also, in sending much love and prayers for your safety interwoven into its very fabric.

I wanted to share with you a bit about these blankets and how they came to you today.  Just know that many hands and hearts went into the creation of these packages of comfort sent from home.  There is a veteran of Desert Shield/Storm who married a teacher and they had a big family.  The oldest of their children came into the world about as patriotic as Uncle Sam.  As he grew and matured, his love for country expanded.  So much so that when war protests in their town grew from objecting war to saying bad things about service men and women, he begged his parents to not drive by that corner of town anymore.  Then the unimaginable happened. One of their own – a local soldier – died and the name of a different city street was going to be changed in this hero’s honor.  Every day that little boy asked his parents to drive by that same street to see if his hometown lived up to their promise to honor and to never forget. That young man continued to grow in his love of country and patriotism through Boy Scouts.

Unfortunately, the boy’s story ended abruptly when a tragic school bus crash happened.  The young man died at only 12 years old.  If he were alive today, he would be 21 years old and a senior in college.  This is where the blankets start to come in.


Let me introduce myself, I am that young man’s mom and I also happen to be an education professor at Southwest Minnesota State University.  The EMSP (Education Minnesota Student Program) wanted to complete a community service project for you (while you are fighting for our safety), and a few of the students somehow realized that although the picture of my son, Reed, that is frozen in time is a 7th grade football player, he was actually their age.  Unbeknownst to me, they decided that their teacher (me) must have mixed emotions watching them get ready to graduate when I wouldn’t being doing the same for Reed.

This is how Project Reed began and how these blankets were created.  My students created this project in your honor as my son’s “graduation project”.  The other details were we applied for a grant through the Modern Woodmen organization and through some amazing couponing skills our efforts multiplied and blossomed.

Wherever you are today, just know that while this looks like some fleece tied together, your blanket represents many hands working together, many prayers uttered for you, and a whole lot of love wrapped up in this bundle.

We are thankful for you.  May God keep you wrapped in the warmth of his love, but more importantly nestled in safety.

Our prayers are with you!

Kandy Noles Stevens

Good Morning Kandy,

My name is CP.  I am currently on active duty with the United States Marine Corps, serving overseas. The reason I am emailing you is because a bunch of us over here received the blankets that were made in remembrance of your son, Reed. The blankets are much appreciated and just know that the story you enclosed with the Education Information and Blankets, has touched hearts literally around the world. I have no doubt in my mind that your son is looking down on us giving us the prayers and all that we need to keep us safe, guiding us in the right direction over here. This really hit home for me when I read your letter especially because I just happen to be from Minnesota myself! I grew up on my Family Farm just outside of the small town about 45 minutes West of St Cloud. I have been in the Marine Corps now for about 3 ½ years and will be looking to get out and be back home somewhere around mid-August for good then I am going to pursue an education of some sort. Have not put a whole lot of thought into it yet but I definitely want to utilize my GI-Bill as well as any state benefits that I may be eligible for as well; and it sounds like I just may have found the right person to help me out with that! But all business aside I just wanted to say thank you to yourself and all of your students for all the thoughts, prayers, & gifts that have been brought to us over here in the Middle-East. Your son has touched many Marines hearts over here and will continue to do so for many years!

Sincerely, CP

And for “our Marine”, we are praying every day for his safe return so that the story can continue and write more tales.  In the days where you question whether what you do matters, just know that the life of one young man has created gigantic pond ripples, or maybe tidal waves, in God’s love story for us all.  And for that we couldn’t be more thankful.


Remember Goliath fell to David

To The Laker Girls:

Last weekend, I along with countless other fans watched you do something that we will all remember for a long time.  You won a first round playoff game in what some considered an upset victory. Almost immediately afterward, as it was reported who your next opponent would be, savoring that moment’s victory fell to murmured doubt.  Oh, they are really good.  I guess we better enjoy this.  That team is excellent.  It is unlikely many teams can beat them.


Photo from the Marshall Independent. Credit to Gary Kaczmarek. 

I would be lying if I didn’t entertain that thought too. It was years ago, but I still remember when the seniors played this opponent in 4th grade. A short text exchange with my cousin gave me a complete attitude adjustment. Before I share what she wrote, I want to share her credibility just so you understand that what she says matters.  Growing up in a small town about the size of Cottonwood, she went on to play basketball for a Division I school and became a championship winning coach. She’s more than just an “auntie” to our Sister.  She’s a student of the game and she’s a super fan.  Her words took my breath and my doubt away.

Remember Goliath fell to David.

So simple. So true. Her words changed everything.

I have watched this season filled with sadness for what could have been, possibly what should have been.  There have been times when as a team you have been filled with doubt. Coaches doubting players, teammates doubting each other, and players doubting themselves. I’ve seen injuries sideline careers, and at times, I have seen moments to build each other up, quietly slip away.  This is not what champions are made of, but if you examine your hearts for one minute, you know that it doesn’t represent who you are, or more importantly who you can be. I have known for a long time that you could all (individually and collectively) be so much more.  Inside each of you lies the heart of a champion. Now it’s time to let the rest of the world see what your mommas have known all along.

Remember Goliath fell to David.

Right now is your moment to shine. Today is the day to think of each other not as a group of individuals, but as one unit. One team with one heartbeat. Now is the time for the whole to be better than its individual parts. Believe that every person on that court is a part of the dream and that she will be successful. Today is the day to know that the talents hidden in each of you fit like pieces in a puzzle to contribute to the whole team’s success.  Every breath you take today from now until you step off that court tonight needs to be one of “I BELIEVE”. Today is the moment to make sure that you give it all you’ve got not because the end might be in sight, but because a championship is yours for the taking. Go into this game believing, why not us! You have the talent, and I believe that we only saw a glimpse of the drive you have to win in the so-called upset victory on Saturday.  Unleash that beast and . . .

Remember Goliath fell to David.

And just in case you have forgotten the story, David took 5 stones to fight the mightiest warrior in the land.  Many doubted him too.  But the key thing is – David never did. In my heart I am proclaiming that instead of 5 stones, there will be 5 girls at any given point on that court tonight to help Goliath fall.


Momma K


A quilt full of memories

It’s no secret that I am not a fan of February, but always feel guilty for that declaration because our College Guy (the erstwhile Boy Wonder to me) came into the world in the same month.  His birthday falling just a few short days following our family’s worst day. I will never forget having to celebrate his 11th birthday in intensive care. Born in one of the worst winters this Southern girl has ever experienced, the weatherman threw hot water in the air and watched it freeze before it hit the ground the day he was born.  Although no one would agree to my terms in my heart I think the calendar should be divided into “Grief Riddled February” for the first nineteen days and the remaining ones (depending on the year) can be “We Survived February” where we can celebrate our son’s birthday without the shadow grief clouding everything.

A few days before Reed’s heaven anniversary date my heart broke again when I learned that College Guy had a very important and unbreakable commitment that he could not skip on his birthday.  I know he’s really perceptive, but I don’t think that he noticed the tears which I swiftly wiped away at our favorite burger place.  His announcement was the one that I knew would be inevitable at some point, but I wasn’t prepared nor ready to not spend time with our son on his actual birthday.  I don’t ride rollercoasters in real life, and this emotional one was proving almost too much to bear.

Of all of our children, he has always been the hardest to shop for, because he is honestly grateful for anything.  Ask for a wish list, and he will respond with “I have everything I need”.  This year, however, I was ready with a plan.  Okay, it was almost two years in the making, but I, at least, was ready.

He had been saving his favorite shirts since fifth grade which ironically was the same year that everything changed in his and our lives.  For high school graduation, we gave him a trip of his choosing and a promise to create a quilt out of those t-shirts he had meticulously saved.

Sadly, like many things in my sewing room this project became another PH-D or Project Half-Done. I finally decided that my 2017 Craft Resolution would be when I have time, I will devote myself to getting some of these PH-D’s done and I won’t buy any new craft projects, I think. So far, I have remained steadfast with that resolution.  The timing of finishing the quilt coincided with College Guy’s birthday; so I knew I had the perfect gift for the guy who rarely, if ever, wants anything.

The conditions were not ideal as we unfurled the quilt in the restaurant’s parking lot in order to snap a picture. You could tell he was revisiting old memories as much as I was. When life gets in the way of living, you can often lose sight of the trees in the forest.  So it was with the quilt, as the significance of some of those old shirts hadn’t really sunk in.  Standing in the parking lot, they came rushing back and in those memories came the reminders of some of the most amazing ways people loved and supported our little guy, now all grown up.


There are camps, mission trips, Boy Scouts, 4H, family Christmases, and school memories stitched into that quilt. And then there is the one from his experience with the drumline when the band director from a neighboring school heard that our guy couldn’t play football so he invited him to join his group for some amazing beats. One proves that love extends beyond school spirit because it came from the head coach of an opposing team who poured out kindness after kindness for our son. One represents all the responding units who came to help the day of the bus crash.  Another is a word that was used to describe our son because he embodies courage in the face of adversity.


But sprinkled in a few squares on the quilt are odd shaped green pieces of t-shirt now appliqued onto denim from the cast he never had.  After hearing that he was hospitalized with a broken leg, his sweet 5th grade classmates sent notes of encouragement saying they couldn’t wait for him to return to school so they could sign his cast.  We had to burst their bubble by explaining the kind of broken bones he had couldn’t be cast and required major surgery with pins and plates. Some sweet soul decided that if these kids wanted to sign a cast, they would just make a substitute.  A t-shirt was purchased in his favorite color and every child in the class signed it.

I am no expert quilter, and honestly if you saw the tears I shed out of frustration when binding this quilt you would wonder why I even make quilts at all, but I have to believe this is the first quilt in history that has a cast sewn into it.

More than that, all of those special memories remind me of God’s promises to love and support our family, including the birthday guy. The remembrances of that love shared through incredible and amazing folks helped me to endure this February.

And for that I am incredibly thankful!