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Yesterday was considerably colder and windier than the same day 23 years ago when a certain someone got married. I remember how much I fretted over the fact that I was sure that our big day was going to be snowed out due to some horrific, world ending blizzard. If I asked the banquet manager once, I probably asked the poor guy at least a dozen times how things would be handled if the weather was less than cooperative. I know, several of you probably ask, ‘then why the hell did you decide to get married in January?’ Good question. We decided after 11 years of dating that our wedding day should be close to the date of our first date. Since Friday and Saturday evenings were considerably more expensive than a Sunday evening and we were paying for our own wedding, January 5th was the date we decided upon. Turns out in the end, all that worrying was for naught, since the day was beautiful and sunny. Not particularly cold considering January.
We had a great wedding, at least that’s what everyone has told me. Most of that day for me is a blur of pictures, hugs, laughter and that smile that I was sure would have to be surgically removed from my face. Today, 23 years ago, we were in beautiful British Columbia embarking on a winter wonderland honeymoon skiing at Whistler Blackcomb. Here are some pictures from so long ago.
The whole wedding gang
Honeymoon selfie in our condo
Hard to believe that 23 years have passed. So much has happened in that time, littering the road that we call life. Good and bad, happy and sad. I have three great sons that make my heart swell a hundred times larger than its normal size with pride. I have great friends and family who were so kind to extend such heartfelt and wonderful anniversary wishes. I have an adorable little puppy who can make me smile. I have a good guy by my side -he’s pretty okay.
Hope the turning of the calendar page finds you and yours well. Remember to be thankful for what you have and celebrate it always, not just with a special day on the calendar.
It is definitely difficult to get everyone in the same place at the same time these days. Gone are the days when I plopped the boys in their Sunday best down for Christmas pictures. In the last few years, I actually had to let go of the Christmas card idea since getting a picture with everyone (or at least all the boys) that wasn’t from the summer or graduation has been damn near impossible. Since every year, I stare longingly at all the wonderful family photos that everyone posts, on Christmas Eve after mass I attempted to get a family picture. If nothing else, it’s good for some laughs. Hope your Christmas was merry and bright and you got to share it with those you love and cherish. After all, that’s what matters, the pictures will eventually come…..
Today is my dad’s birthday.
While he’s no longer with us, and hasn’t been for a while, his presence is felt everyday. It’s the little things, remembering something that we did together, or how he was such a kids himself, particularly when it came to Christmas and presents or some story that someone tells. He loved having fun and I sometimes catch a glimpse of him in my own boys and it makes me smile. I used to give him a ride back and forth to work and honestly, it was a nice part of my day when I was still living at home and he was working. It was just the two of us and he was always happy to hear about what I had planned or what had happened. It was, in some respects, our time. I miss it and I miss him. No one can ever fill the hole that is left when someone who was a part of you and your life passes away.
I so wish he were still here. He would be so very, very proud of his grandchildren and how his family has blossomed.
Happy Birthday Daddy – We love you and we miss you!
Today our youngest turns 17. How time flies, seems like only yesterday he was placed in my arms. Funny though how life comes around full circle. When Tim was born, or actually the night prior to his birth, when Tom was putting TJ into his pjs we discovered that he had chicken pox, which appeared like magic over the course of an hour or so. Since I was very pregnant and overdue, wherever one brother was, the other was too, so there was no question that Tyler had been exposed. I went into the hospital the next day and the other two boys had an extended stay with Mimi and Poppy. When Tim came home 48 hours later from the hospital, he was the only kid in the Heffernan house since it would be about another week or so before we could see the boys and they could meet their new little brother. Having just one newborn in the house after a house of two toddlers was like a piece of cake. I think that my husband’s words were something to the effect that he could strap the newborn on his back and climb a mountain with no worries and no great effort. In a few weeks, his two brothers will be going off to college and Tim will once again have our undivided attention for a while.
To say that I am proud of Tim and the young man he has become is an understatement. He constantly amazes me and in the words of his brother, I can’t wait to see what’s in store for his future. He has a big year…senior year… ahead of him.
We celebrated short one brother. Tim and his girlfriend made his birthday dessert, Tiramisu which was delicious. Here are some pictures of the day.
Happy Birthday Tim — we love you!
Today is both a sad day and a happy day. It is sad because it is the day, 13 years ago that we lost my dad suddenly. Life changed and there is forever an empty hole in our hearts. Tom and I often talk about how we wish he were here, commenting how he would have loved our Vermont house and friends. We often came to Vermont to vacation when I was little and perhaps my dad was responsible for planting the seed that grew into a life that I absolutely love.
His passing was sudden and unexpected. I would give anything to give him one more hug. Those of you that know me, know exactly how much his death affected me, as well as my whole family. I often wonder what he would say if he saw the boys now, practically grown men, but I am sure that he would be very proud to call them his grandsons.
Here are pictures of my dad with each of the little men, in age order. Miss you, love you, Daddy.
Miss you, love you, Daddy.
Somehow, the universe has a way of helping ease the pain. The first little girl in our lives, my niece Emily, was born to my brother and sister-in-law on this day, six years ago. I’d like to think that she’s my dad’s way of sending us his love. Her beautiful big brown eyes are filled with love.
Happy Birthday Miss Emily!
We have a very empty house. My youngest son’s companion of more than twelve years left us very unexpectedly last week. Her departure has left us with a very large hole in our hearts. While she loved each and every one of us, she loved Tim the most, with her entire heart and soul — and he loved her back just exactly the same. Her death is very surreal and difficult for all of us to accept. We keep walking into the house or a room and looking for her. After all, for her whole life and a good chunk of ours, she was around. It took me a long while to decide whether or not to write this post. I didn’t want to share our grief, our very, very personal sadness with the world. I was being selfish, because honestly I didn’t want to have to field all the “I’m sorrys” as heartfelt as they were, because they couldn’t help to make the sadness in our hearts go away. In thinking about it, long and hard, I realized that I was wrong. Jinx was a good dog – no, she was a great dog — and she deserves a proper eulogy. So here goes….
She came into our lives an energetic and adorable black lab puppy. She grew up with Tim and the two of them shared so many good times and so much snuggling and cuddling. He wanted desperately, as a tiny guy to have her be “his dog” and there is absolutely no question that she was. She loved him with every ounce of her being and he gave the same huge amount of love back to him. If there could be such a thing as a “perfect” death, she had it. She died in his arms and his face was the last one she saw. Tom and I swear that she waited for him, although don’t get me wrong, we had no idea that she was going to die. She had been asleep on the couch in my office, as she usually was during a “work day” and he came home early from school because of testing, anxious to share a beautiful day by taking her for a swim which is something she adored. They never made the swim, in fact, they never made it out the door. She collapsed and died just a few minutes later, within minutes of his arrival home. She was a smart dog, she kept us on schedule for dinner (6 p.m. was the time she decided dinner should be served) and she was always quick to let us know what she wanted and what she didn’t. If she was being pesky and we thought she had to go out, she was quick to back up and lay down when we tried to open the door and let her out telling us we had gotten it wrong. She had Tom and I on a schedule, our lunch was always the time for her snack. She would patiently wait for us to finish eating and then “urge” us to get up and give her a well deserved (in her opinion of course) snack. She loved cucumber almost as much as meat and you couldn’t break out anything crunchy without her coming running from across the house to share it with you. If we left her outside too long, she would come and stand at the window in the living room, staring at us, until we let her back inside. I’m sure that if she could figure out how to open the door herself, she would have done that as well. She enjoyed trips to the transfer station or any outing in the car and she loved being boarded at Wundrland, she would go crazy, whining and crying, when we mentioned the name. She loved all of us but would go absolutely crazy when Tim got home from a trip, especially last summer when he was gone for weeks at a time. She was my work buddy and lived for “let’s go to work” where she would promptly follow me into my office and take her place on the couch while I worked. She loved keeping the chipmunks that live around the house on the their toes and would run after the squeaking noise the second she heard it. She loved, loved, loved frisbee and swimming with Tim as well as anytime that she was able to snuggle up with him. She was very special to us and can never be replaced. In addition to the obvious, one of the things that always strikes me about death, is the words that will cease to be spoken. I remember when my dad died since that day, no one has every referred to me as “baby” or “my little girl”. Those words died along with my dad, never to be spoken again. Similarly, there are words that will never be uttered again in this house “jinxy dawg”,”let’s go to work”, “back up the truck” or “beep, beep, beep” when she used to try to go backwards around the coffee table. I hope that with these words and pictures, I have done her justice. We gave her a good home and she gave us a lifetime of love. What more can either of us ask for? Rest in peace, puppy dog — you deserve it.
I am always interested in seeing people’s Christmas trees. The decorations on the tree, the color scheme all say something about the tree’s owners. The trees can be small ‘Charlie Brown’ trees or gigantic, towering trees decked out with Christmas balls, tinsel and garland. Our tree usually doesn’t have shiny christmas ball ornaments on it, although we have done that in years past. Rather, it is usually decorated with white twinkle lights (LED lights don’t give off the same effect in my opinion) and ornaments. No tinsel, no garland. Each ornament tells its own story. There is the Santa and Mrs. Claus bisque dolls ornaments that were given to us from Tom’s parents, passed down through the grands and the greats of that family. There is the single clear blue ball ornament with a single strand of tinsel inside of it that belongs to my husband, passed down also through his family. The boys each have a glass angel in the color of their birthstones. There are the first ornaments that Tom and I bought and received from others for our first Christmas together and the ornaments that commemorate the birth of each of the boys. Each ornament tells a story and the owner of the ornament is one that places it on the tree each year. We have the plethora of elementary school ornaments that each of the boys made growing up and the ornaments that we bought from various places we’ve visited during the years. Each year, I get the boys a personalized ornament to commemorate something special that occurred during the year for them — something they will be able to take with them as they start their own families and traditions in the years to come.
Here are some of our ornaments and decorations.
Merry Christmas. While I’ve yet to get my “Christmas” picture, these will have to do. Here are some pictures from our day today.
TJ made good use of the ladder to the loft for stacking presents.
The village under the tree….
The view of the mountains this morning from the porch….. with it’s temperature of 2 degrees.
Stockings hung by the woodstove…..
It appeared to be a Christmas of hats… this one I knitted for Tim …..
Love this kid…..
And this one…..
And this one too…… so good to have them all under one roof again….
Tom doing his elf gig…..
Anyone who has had a child knows “the bag” the one that sits, at the ready, for days or even weeks waiting for the “big event.” The one that contained symbols of the new roles that husband and wife would be taking on — the first outfit, the knitted hat, the snuggly blanket, as well as all the mom stuff that the new mother would need while she was being overwhelmed by those first hours of motherhood.
Here’s that bag for me.
It’s a great bag that my sister bought for me for the baby shower. It not only still exists but it has taken many journeys with our expanding family over the years. Somehow, it seemed appropriate that the bag that brought everything to the hospital when he was born should be the bag that went with us when we delivered TJ to the next big phase of his life. And so, “the bag” accompanied us to Burlington — a symbol of what had been and what was yet to be.
We were off, truck packed and the five of us enjoying a ride through the mountains to TJ’s new home for the school year. It didn’t take long for us to get him unpacked and for him to turn the contents of those boxes, foot lockers and duffle bags into his new digs. By the time we returned with lunch in hand and perishables for his new fridge, he had transformed the stark space into a very comfy spot, very “TJ”.
Everyone says that saying goodbye and leaving your child at college is hard, but the goodbyes weren’t very different from goodbyes when we’ve dropped the boys off elsewhere. Hugs and small talk. Last minute thoughts, a heartfelt “I love you”. Despite the admonitions from everyone including the parking attendants “Mom, no crying!” when we first pulled in, there were no tears. I am very proud of TJ and all that he has accomplished. He deserved to enjoy that day without a blubbering mom in the background or the foreground and I delivered. What was difficult is the coming home to TJ not being here. When we pulled into the driveway, my thought was “oh TJ’s home” when I saw his truck sitting there…only to realize that “no, he wasn’t home, that’s just his truck”. So, the long and short of it, is while TJ got the “no tear” send-off from his mom, the rest of the family hasn’t been so lucky since we’ve been home.
I’m mopey, I admit it. No one but another mom understands that it’s hard to share your life and for the better part of a year, share your very body with another person occupying the same space without feeling sad that things will never be the same. Will things be different? Yes. Will things be better? Maybe. Will you be proud of your child and their accomplishments? Absolutely.
But your family will never be the same configuration and chemistry and you will never be the same person as you were when you got in the car for that ride to college. We all know it’s coming. It might as well be printed on that bag that accompanies you to the hospital for the birth. It’s implicit in the very definition of parenting. The process of promoting and supporting the physical,emotional, social, and intellectual development of a child from infancy to adulthood. From the second we are “officially” parents at the birth, it is a process of independence, of teaching another human being to be self-sufficient and in so doing, tearing yourself away from that person that you have created.
Leaving TJ at the door to his dorm, there was not a cell in my body that wasn’t happy for him and confident that Tom and I had done the best job we could in the preceding 18+ years in preparing him for this next journey. There wasn’t a part of me that wasn’t swelling with pride at the young man he has become. At the same time however, there are just as many cells yearning to freeze time and protect the familiar part of my life. In the days that follow “drop off” there will be adjustment…contrary to the “how to” books, it won’t be so much for the college student as for the college student’s mom.
Summer is going by fast, especially now that we have actually had some summer type days. Vacation is fast approaching which I am looking forward to enjoying with my guys. It is hard to believe as I look at the calendar that, a month from yesterday, TJ will be off to a new adventure in his life. We will be moving him into his home away from home for the majority of the next year. While I know that it isn’t all that far away, it’s far enough to realize that he won’t be a part of our everyday lives in the same way ever again. (Okay, here go the mom tears). I will definitely miss that. Having had one less kid in the house for the majority of the summer with Tim spending most of his time in other countries this summer, it is definitely odd not having the same chemistry in the house. It will be odd not having all three boys around all (or mostly) all of the time.
Miss my dad everyday since he left us, but especially on Father’s Day.
He would be very proud of his grandsons and I know that they would have loved spending time with him.
Warmest wishes to all the dads celebrating today, especially the man that has helped me through the craziness of parenthood and helps me everyday to raise three wonderful young men -
today and always, I love you.
May those that love us, love us
And those that don’t love us
May God turn their hearts
And if He doesn’t turn their hearts
May He turn their ankles
Nanny Smith celebrating her 90th birthday.
Often, we don’t really get it until much, much later. Usually when it’s too late. Each generation tries to instill in the next what they have learned to listen, watch, learn, absorb it all before it’s gone–but sadly most times that falls on deaf ears. St. Patrick’s Day always brings to mind my father’s mother, my Nanny. She had a long life, many friends to the end and a very loving family. I have fond memories of Irish music playing on her hi-fi stereo when we kids attended one of the many shindigs she held at her house before she moved into the senior citizen center. There was barely a gathering that Nanny was chasing someone around with the fork, usually my dad, my uncle (her sons) or her nephew. All in good fun, gatherings at her house, were characterized by lots of music, lots of laughing, food and drink. My grandmother made an awesome lamb but we all were sure to steer clear of her meatballs (which resembled golf balls).
Here are some pictures from her 90th birthday party –she threw it for herself mind you, planned the whole thing which she held in the recreation room at the senior citizen center where she lived. The party of course was only after the mass she had said by one of her favorite priests where she sat in a chair in the aisle and took it all in. I told you the woman had spunk. Looking back, I realize that she would be very proud of her great-grandsons. The youngest, she would be especially proud of, he is traveling to Ireland this summer to take a class there and I am sure that if she were still alive, she would be filling his ears with everything and everyone that she could think of to see and do while he was there.
TJ, delivering Nanny a bouquet of birthday flowers.
Nanny and some of her great-grandkids checking out the birthday cake.
My brother and my cousin posing for a picture with her.
One of the newest great-grandkids, Tyler having some “Nanny” time.
And no Irish celebration (or funeral) would be complete without the bagpipes.
Hanging in Nanny’s kitchen for all those years was a plaque that had an Irish blessing. There were a few of them around her house. Since it’s St. Patrick’s Day and I am thinking of her, here’s a wish to all of you ~ May your home always be too small to hold all your friends ~ Happy St. Patrick’s Day!