Skip to main content

Family Dinner (and why there is a kitten on my head)

With our kids now grown (one at home), it became obvious to me this past year that unless we made a specific effort to be together, it wasn't gonna happen. Thus was born Family Dinner.

It's simple: we host dinner the last Sunday of every month. Bring a date, bring a friend but be there. Dear Hubby likes to cook, so it's win-win. And the kids responded. It's became rather sacred to all of us: "Oh, sorry. I can't. That's Family Dinner."

We hosted a Special Edition Family Dinner yesterday, as Curly-Haired Daughter is home for a family wedding next weekend. As Hubby laid-out a roasted pork loin dinner, I was happy to have the table set and extended, a couple of extra chairs rounded up, and kids surrounding us.

Our "entertainment" was the newest edition to the family, a tiger-striped kitten named Galway Girl. She has yet to learn that the table is not a playground. Her preferred sleeping spot is either my shoulder or the top of my head. Who knows why? She is like all kittens in that she is curious and fearless and funny, and she is unique because she is ours. Also, our older cat, Mojo, seems to have forgiven us for bringing the pip squeak home.

Even better yesterday was that Curly-Haired Daughter stayed late and talked. When she and her hubby decided to move out of state in January, it rocked our worlds. (I HATE having her so far away - despite the fact that I know how silly that is. I mean, come on: the age of the internet and cheap travel means she is still "right here." It's not like we live in the mid-1800s and she and her hubby decided to strike out for the West.)

It became apparent to me last night that she has matured SO MUCH in these past few months. There are a lot of reasons for it, but she is clearly thinking like an adult. I'm so proud of her and her hubby in that they truly believe in marriage and they make theirs a priority. Oh, she is still my baby girl but the world is gaining an amazing young woman. I'll still cry when I have to hug her good-bye in a week, but I could not be happier with the fact that she is a beautiful, fierce, funny woman. And when she is visiting next, I'll curl up in my chair, cat on head, to listen and talk.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Trying to "end run" God

If you're a football fan, you know what an end run is. From Merriam-Webster:
a football play in which the ballcarrier attempts to run wide around the end of the line We try to "end run" God a lot. I do. I figure I know better. I've got this - no need to worry the Big Guy about such a trivial thing.

Of course, it never works.

Like the puppy above, when we try and evade the tough obstacle (even though we KNOW we will eventually have to do it), we end up - well, off in the bushes.

But oh! How I wished my way worked. I'd love to take a flying leap and land smoothly and gracefully. People would be in awe, as if watching Simone Biles nail a balance beam routine that no one else would even attempt. I would shyly look down and blush - just lightly - and acknowledge (But humbly! Oh so humbly!) my achievement.

But no: I am the one pulling myself out of the bushes, scratches all over my legs and twigs in my hair. I'd hear that gentle but loving voice of God saying, &quo…

Be Transfigured

From today's readings: 

Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the and his clothes became white as light.

...we possess the prophetic message that is altogether reliable. You will do well to be attentive to it as to a lamp shining in a dark place until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.

Today we celebrate the Transfiguration. For whatever reason, Jesus brought three of His disciples to Mount Tabor to witness this miracle. They weren't sure what they were seeing, but they knew enough to throw themselves to the ground in the presence of Almighty God. St. Peter (who never did anything halfway) excitedly declares that he will erect tents on the mountain as a way of memorializing the event. But Jesus tells him and the others that they are not to tell people what they witnessed - at least not yet.

In the second reading, the requirement to be quiet has bee…

Crossing Guard

I saw you
today
as you guided
your little man across that busy street.

You were wearing some
big man boots
and
watching cars and lights.

Your little man had on
black sneakers and
a Mickey Mouse hat
that bounced
as he walked.

He wasn't watching nothing but
your big man boots
and
the white stripes of the crosswalk.

Just before
he got to the sidewalk again,
his step bounced a bit
- he hopped over
a spot where the asphalt broke.

You turned to look,
holding out a hand to
your little man.
Not rushed or angry,
just making sure
he got up
on that sidewalk.

Then you walked on,
in your big man boots,
face into a cold Michigan wind,
with the little man behind,
his hat bouncing.