Seventeen

Dear Katie,

It started happening in 2017.

In all the prior years - from 2003 to 2016 - I kept your pace. At least once a year, I got a gold star for mothering when I wrote your annual birthday letter. I could give myself a pat on the back for taking the time to pause and remember all that had passed in the previous year.

Then in 2017, I started slipping. The birthday letter I wrote that year was posted a month and a half late. The following year, I fully missed the mark but decided to cover it by writing a 15.5 birthday letter. In 2019, I didn't make the birthday deadline. No one could tell because the magic of blogging means you can choose your own date and time on a post.

In 2020, I didn't even try. Blame it on the Coronavirus pandemic or on my apathy - which could possibly be called by another name: awakening.

Because in 2020, everything changed. The qualifications for that mystical Best Mother Award went from performance to presence, from doing to being. And as your 17th birthday approached and we were three months into the pandemic, I came to the realization that we were seeing too many Lasts for my heart to keep up:

Your last marching band competition.

Your last day of junior year.

Your last gathering with friends.

Your last public Wind Ensemble performance.

Your last in-person audition.

So many lasts to even keep track! I didn't know then what I know now: those lasts weren't THE last, but they were the Lasts for the 16-year-old Katie of 2020. And for the heart of a mama whose baby is already aging at break-neck speed, I didn't have the energy to face the birthday letter milestone.

And then there was the awakening I mentioned, the realization that earning the yearly gold star goes way beyond a simple letter. In early 2020 as you approached your 17th birthday, I earned the gold star in other ways:

We started a daily walking routine and refused to break our streak for quite a while.

We watched movies I had always hoped to watch with you: City Slickers; Airplane; The Help; The Matrix; Planes, Trains, and Automobiles; Sleepless in Seattle; Big; Ghost; and Tommy Boy.

We took time to do crafts together.

We talked about loneliness, growing up, and your future.

My "mothering absolutes" went by the wayside as I had to relax certain rules such as no electronics in your bedroom. (How were you going to do online Zoom classes in the living room while your brother did his there too?)

Even in the isolation of quarantine, you kept aging and transforming and becoming. You learned to be resilient, to celebrate smaller things, and to hold loosely to plans that got cancelled repeatedly.

I'm sure your 17th birthday wasn't quite what you had in mind, but you rolled with that too. We got Chick-fil-A for breakfast, ate it at our friends' beautiful backyard waterfall, then spent the day at the Missouri Botanical Garden.

Now, it's nine months later and I'm finally looking back at your 17th birthday. Just in time to start writing your 18th birthday letter, right? (Ugh!)

I was so proud of the young lady you were becoming last June, and so proud of the one you still are. You've endured a year of so many joys and sorrows! But I don't want to scoop your 18th birthday letter just yet. I'll fill you in on all of that soon. And hopefully I'll write that letter closer to your 18th birthday than your 19th. Right?!

I love you,

Mom

Mid-March of 2020

One year ago today, it was Friday the 13th. It was also the first day of spring break for my kids, and the news was buzzing about some virus that might kill us.

From 10am to 2pm I was at the local boutique where I work, then I stopped at Walmart on the way home. Here's what I wrote in my journal about that experience, and a photo I snapped because I thought the world had gone bonkers:

"It was incredibly crazy. With the Coronavirus COVID-19 looking like it's going to shut down some stuff, there were tons of people and so many shelves were picked over. I wasn't stressed about all of this until I went to Walmart!"

The canned soup shelves at Walmart on 3/13/2020.

It is worth noting that when I went into my archives just now to find that photo, my emotions ratcheted up as I glanced over some of the screenshots and photos I saved from those first few days. Hindsight is 20/20, and I wish I knew then what I know now. (Or do I?)

So let's go on a little tangent: one year ago this week, all the chatter was about staying home, flattening the curve by this new term called "social distancing..."

3/16/2020

...washing your hands for at least 20 seconds...

This was posted by the sink in a public restroom on 3/12/2020.

People I know in real life and on my social media feed seemed to fit into one of two camps: they were either alarmists or underemotional. (Personally, I vacillated between the two.)

3/16/2020

3/13/2020

And some people weren't sure of much but were definitely sure of God.

3/16/2020

Within days, many started making political statements. This was a screenshot I took on March 16th:

Over that first spring break weekend, we escaped "civilization" and stayed with some friends at their cabin about an hour away from home. I remember loading the car with this thought in the back of my mind: what if we aren't home when the world shuts down? I half expected the zombie apocalypse to start over the weekend, and we'd never be able to get back to our house - or at least not for a long while. We were taking our dog with us, so I thought at least we wouldn't have to come back any sooner than necessary. At the last minute, I threw in a few extra outfits for me and the kids in case we spent more than a weekend away from home. Plus more snacks because: priorities!

We had a good weekend with our friends and being isolated in the woods helped calm some of the worry. On Sunday, we watched church online because our church had announced they were closing the buildings for two weeks until things settled down.

The zombie apocalypse didn't occur over the weekend, so we headed home that afternoon. I kind of wanted to stay at the cabin to wait out spring break, thinking the world just needed a week to get back on track.

When we got home, Jackson asked to hang out at the neighbors' house. From my journal:

"I let him. Got a text from XX saying St. Charles County is closing all schools until April 6. All of a sudden I felt a little panic coming on. I went to the neighbors to bring J home."

The next day, we got the notification from our school district.

That's the day, March 16, when I started tracking COVID Isolation days in my journal. I also sat the kids down and, as I wrote in my journal, "talked about our plans to still have a routine while we're being isolated." Dan came home from work that day and told me the plans his office was making, and I remember feeling angry and anxious because I felt it wasn't enough for his immunocompromised wife.

I had to vent to my sister and felt I couldn't find a private place inside the house, so I sat in my car in the garage to call her. She had venting of her own to do because she was supposed to fly to Qatar that day to be with her husband, who lives there for his job. She was literally on the way to the airport when the airline notified her of cancelled flights because the country had closed its borders. She returned to her condo and our phone call was filled with lots of What Ifs and When Will I...

That's the day it all changed, when life split into a firm BEFORE and AFTER.

Each day of mid-March this year, I have found myself thinking about what I was doing only one year ago.

The last time we ate out.

The last time we gathered in a crowd.

The last time we went to a store without any precautions.

And the first time I ever wore a mask.

Will we ever be like we were only 52 weeks ago?

Sweet Sixteen

Dear Katie,

It's impossible for me to comprehend that I am the mother of a SIXTEEN YEAR OLD daughter. I think that's because my 16th year is still so imprinted in my mind. And if I can remember my 16th year, then it wasn't that long ago. Right? Sure...

If my parents were still alive, they would have greeted you on this day with a sly comment like, "Sweet 16 and never been kissed." And you would have rolled your eyes and I would have giggled with you, because we both know you have arrived at 16 with some experience and knowledge you didn't have a year ago. Mostly, it was knowledge you gained in some pretty painful ways.

You learned what it looks like to compromise your beliefs with someone you thought was trustworthy and made promises he never intended to keep.
You learned how to stand by a friend who endured harassment and shame.
You learned how to apologize and repair that friendship, and made vows to yourself about avoiding similar experiences in the future.
You learned what a broken heart feels like and how grief and loss don't happen all at once, but slowly over time.
You learned what it means to stand on your feet again, find your value and worth, and strengthen your faith and relationships.

Every moment you've endured has made you stronger in the long run. Life isn't a sprint for the fastest runner to win, it's an endurance run that sometimes sidelines you, detours you, stretches you, but finds you lean and strong at the finish line.

Katie, you have grown into such a loving, deep-feeling, beautiful soul. You are someone whom Dad and I truly enjoy spending our time with. You make us laugh. You ask the hard questions. And you like to sing in the car with me, too.

This year I realized that the longer I parent, the better I understand how deeply I was loved by my parents. That understanding wasn't something I could grasp when I was being parented; it comes with time. I know you can't grasp it now, but my hope is one day you'll look back on this year and see how wholly and fully loved you were through it.

Even on the hard days when you felt the world rejected you. Even on the dark days when there were more clouds than stars in the sky. Even on the silent days when you didn't want to talk to me, preferring to blame your parents for the unfairness of love and life and friendships.

You've made it so far, baby girl of mine. I'm so proud of you and the person you're growing up to be.

Next up: driving. A car. ALONE. Eeeeeek! (Insert "scary face" emoji here.)

I love you!
Mom

15.5

Dear Katie,

Happy half birthday! Yep, I’m exactly 6 months late with your annual birthday letter. I have lots of excuses that actually are really good, but few that I can discuss in my blog’s semi-private public forum.

Earlier tonight as you were studying for finals I said, “I’ve missed you.” When I was just now tucking you into bed, I told you what I really meant when I said I’ve missed you. Here’s the gist of it:

I know you think I’m saying this only because I’m your mother, but it’s true (and not just for me)! You are a lovely person who people enjoy knowing. As 2018 started, I felt like I was finally reaping some of the things God, Dad, and I had been sowing in your life for so many years. You were finding your stride and becoming someone I really liked being around. What bliss for this mama’s heart!

As is natural, you started asserting your independence and a deep drive for more freedom. That, plus your desire to be known and loved through a romantic relationship (coupled with hormones [pun intended]), resulted in some crossed wires and a few tangles. We began clashing in ways we never had before, and had to do a LOT of work regarding boundaries and defining your identity. {Yes, I know this is all sounding vague and slightly ominous, but I’m trying to respect your privacy while also being faithful to the emotions we endured. I think even with the vagueness, you’ll know what I’m referencing.}

It became a hard year, this move from age 14 to 15 (and now 15-and-a-half). In mid-June, tensions coiled and I honestly couldn’t figure out what to write in your annual birthday letter. Time pulled us into July, and I was even more lost.

We had started the year slowly dipping our toes into topics I never dreamed I’d be discussing with you (at least not THIS early!), and then canon-balled into the deep end of those topics as September came to a close. October was almost as dangerous to my heart as your first three months of life (I haven’t forgotten you, Postpartum Depression), but it was also a remaking that had its own desolate beauty.

As I was telling you tonight at bedtime, I feel like you’ve re-centered and come back to being you. And that’s what I meant when I said I’ve missed you.

Girl, you bring light into the world. The dimness of this past half year feels like it has finally been suspended and your light has returned. But, impossibly, it’s somehow burning brighter because now you are more aware of who you are and who you are not.

It’s beautiful to see, even if it came at a cost. (But don’t all things that are worth having?)

I hope this year has given you a better understanding of how much your father and I adore you - and you’ve gained real-life knowledge that we will always - ALWAYS! - fight for you. You are worth fighting for, my girl.

Happy half birthday, Katie. You are so loved!

Always,
Mom

​

Guatemala, Day 8 (Saturday 10/28/17)

[Would you like to start reading this travel blog from the beginning? Click here to start with day 1 and follow along.]

THREE IN THE MORNING, people. That’s what time I was up, bleary-eyed and packing. I took a couple photos of our dormitory-style room, then we loaded everyone for the hour-long drive to the Guatemala City airport. (Lucky me, I got to ride in the truck with Jaime one last time!)

It was still dark when Jaime and Nestor dropped us at the airport and hugged us goodbye. Oh, how I wished we could stay!

We worked our way through the airport and immigration (with Jesus in My Pocket), bought a last few souvenirs (pens and a leather bracelet), and our flight departed.

The sun was up by then, so I got a last few photos of Guatemala – including some grainy photos of a volcano burping ash.

Before I knew it, we were landing in Texas and back in the United States.

We made it through customs (they have these new-fangled self checkout kiosks!), did some subway surfing back to the main terminal, and parked ourselves for lunch at Friday’s. YUM! HAMBURGERS!

One more dose of eyedrops for the girls in the bathroom, where we could enjoy the luxury of American sewers and FLUSH OUR TOILET PAPER. (You laugh, but it’s amazing the things we take for granted in America!)

We settled at our gate and played one last round of Bananagrams. But this time, Mary insisted we play it Guatemala style. It was a free-for-all, spelling anything we wanted in no particular order with one condition: any word we spelled had to reference our week in Guatemala. Here’s our finished product.

We boarded our last flight to St. Louis, arriving home happy and exhausted.

A few days after we got home, I used the One Second Everyday app on my phone to make a video of our trip. Keep in mind: I only used the photos I already had on my phone, and the video goes really fast on purpose. (There’s a reason it’s called “One Second.”)

To any of you brave souls who read through this entire trip log, thanks for following along on our story. Now, here’s the question: when will YOU be traveling with Living Water International? I’d love to hear about it, or answer any questions you have. Just leave me a comment below!

Guatemala, Day 7 (Friday 10/27/17)

Our last full day in Guatemala started a little later than normal and we weren’t up and moving towards breakfast until 7am. It felt like a vacation! (Ha. Not quite.)

Katie woke with her other eye red and swollen, so we knew the pink eye had spread. To make it worse, Hannah also woke with swollen, red, crusty eyes. The pink eye had spread to her too, so we started her on the same eye drops. Katie didn’t want to leave our room because her eyes hurt and she didn’t want people to look at her all day. I tried to coax her out for breakfast, and she finally went to eat.

During breakfast, Jaime asked me how Katie was feeling. I told him she’s struggling, and he said he’s never had anyone on any of his teams get pink eye. He said it’s common in Guatemala because it’s spread by mosquitos, but I told him that didn’t sound right to me. He said he asked his wife when he got home the previous night, and she agreed it was probably spread by a mosquito. After I finished breakfast, I made a beeline to the wifi area so I could do some Googling. Yep… I went down that terrifying rabbit hole.

I Googled “pink eye and mosquitos.” I didn’t find any evidence that pink eye is transmitted by mosquitos, but I found plenty of information saying pink eye (conjunctivitis) is a symptom of the Zika virus. So is a rash (I had noticed one on Katie’s face the day before) and achy joints (she had complained that her arms and legs ached). THAT’S when I went into freak-out mode. I read more and found that Zika isn’t a huge concern unless you’re pregnant, and there is no treatment for it. It’s confirmed with a blood or urine test, but even if you have it there’s not much to do besides wait it out. But I was worried anyway!

I tore down to the main house, found Dan drinking his coffee, and with wide-eyed terror told him we needed to get Katie to a doctor. He calmly told me to calm down and calmly asked what I was talking about. I didn’t want to be calm, and told him he should go to the wifi with me. Lisa (Hannah’s mom) decided to go with me instead, so we Googled some more. Lisa found out the same information, and I tried to find the travel warnings from the United States TSA so I could know if a person with Zika would be permitted into the country. Without any concrete evidence, I ran the situation through every worst-case scenario and decided I’d stay in Guatemala with Katie for a week or two until she was permitted to travel. I’d send Dan home to take care of Jackson and go back to work.

After a little while, Lisa and I ventured back to the main house to find Jaime and ask about seeing a doctor. That’s when he shared the best news with us: one of the Living Water employees who works in the compound where we were staying was a doctor and she could see our girls. Yay! We only had to wait for her to come to work, then she could see Katie and Hannah.

At 9:30am, Jaime took Lisa, Hannah, Katie and I to meet the doctor. We brought the eye drops we’d been using, and she looked at the girls’ eyes. She asked about the symptoms they’d been having, and I mentioned the rash and the joint aches. She asked if Katie had discharge in her eyes, and we confirmed she had. The doctor said the discharge was good – that if Katie didn’t have that, there would be concern for Zika. But the discharge was a clear symptom of pink eye, so we should continue with the drops and lots of hand washing. She said the drops weren’t the most modern medicine and would take a little longer to do the job, but they’d still work. I was so relieved to hear this, and I think Katie thought I was crazy to be so relieved. (But she didn’t realize I had already diagnosed her with Zika!)

Once our emergency doctor visit was over, our team piled into the van and we headed out for a day of sightseeing. Katie wasn’t too thrilled at first, because her eye hurt and she was still self-conscious about how it looked when she went without sunglasses. But at least Hannah could commiserate with her on this day (unlike the day before), so Katie had a little more pep in her step.

Our first stop for sightseeing was Cerro de la Cruz, the mountaintop where a large stone cross overlooks the city of Antigua.

We walked down the mountain to meet Nestor waiting for us in the van at the bottom.

Our next stop was at a jade store in Antigua. We learned where jade comes from, took a tour of their factory, and got to see the artists working on different jade pieces. A few months later, Santa delivered a little jade turtle underneath our Christmas tree.

We arrived next at La Azotea, the Museo del Café – the museum of coffee – and this sign made me chuckle. I think it’s telling visitors that no headless dogs are allowed inside.

A guide walked us through the exhibits that explain the processes of growing, harvesting, roasting, and drinking coffee. It was very informative (you know I like to geek out on that stuff), and Connie immersed herself in it.

We saw the terraces where harvested coffee beans are dried before roasting, then watched the roasters hard at work. (The smell was DIVINE.)

We walked through the coffee fields and saw coffee beans still ripening on the branch.

I found this gorgeous butterfly that appeared to have glass wings. You can’t tell from this photo, but the wings were transparent and so delicate.

Besides coffee, La Azotea grows beautiful gardens full of exotic flowers. We wandered for a bit, but I could have spent hours there taking photos and investigating plants. (Dear Lord, I have officially turned into my father – channeling the giddy way he acted when we saw tulips in Holland!)

What kind of plant IS THIS?

By this point, Katie was feeling slightly better. Good enough to let me take a few photos of her!

I wish I could share every single photo I took at La Azotea, because the place is stunning.

After our tour, we took some time in the gift shop and found goodies to take home. Some we decided to share, some we kept for ourselves!

Katie and Hannah sampled the coffee…

…which perked them right up.

As we loaded into our van, sprinkles of rain began to fall. We headed back to our compound for lunch and a little rest time. After eating, Katie and I found the hammock and set up my ENO. This moment was pretty fantastic for me.

In the late afternoon, we drove back into Antigua and had an hour and a half of free time for shopping and wandering. This was our chance to find our last souvenirs: silver earrings for me, sandals for Katie, a soccer jersey for Jackson, postcards, and a beaded Christmas tree ornament.

Dan, Katie, and I split off after a bit and wandered until we found a really cool restaurant with a patio on the roof. The view was spectacular.

Through the fog that was rolling in, I got a photo of Cerro de la Cruz, our first stop earlier in the day.

We walked back to the center of town to meet the team for dinner, and the town had come alive with people out on a Friday night. There was live music and lots of activity. This photo of the Palacio de los CapitanesGenerales (Captain General Palace) at dusk is one of my favorites. Down at the end, you can see the stage where musicians played.

Dinner was at Las Antorchas Restaurante, where the team eats often enough to warrant our own menu.

The highlight of the meal was the drink selection, all non-alcoholic of course. Katie ordered her favorite drink that our Hispanic neighbors introduced us to last summer (Jamaica, pronounced huh-my-kuh).

Connie told us about this drink called a Mickey Mouse, which was her favorite the last time she went on a Living Water trip. We ordered it and giggled when the waiter delivered it.

Our meals were so tasty; mine was squash soup, salad, a juicy steak with baked potato, and we all shared bites of our desserts. We took turns at dinner speaking about what we learned on our trip and specifically praising our leaders for the way they guided us all week. My favorite moment was when Dan spoke to Jaime and called him not only a leader but a pastor because of the way Jaime encouraged us spiritually all week.

Our dinner was winding down as other tables started filling up in the restaurant. As to be expected when the table is full of 15 people, we got pretty loud and rowdy. This is when Sonja told us the waiter passed a message to her from people at another table, saying we need to keep the ruckus down a bit. Personally, I was a bit offended but tried (not very successfully) to use my inside voice. Only after we left the restaurant did Sonja tell us she made the story up. What a stinker!

We parted ways with Blanca at the restaurant, promising to keep in touch on Facebook. When we arrived at the compound, we packed our suitcases and did our last preparations to depart EARLY in the morning. I used the wifi to make one last email check and found a slightly disturbing message from home. I woke Dan and we called my family member who sent the message, and realized it wasn’t an emergency. After that scare combined with the travel jitters, it was a little hard to wind down and fall asleep. Eventually, I did fall asleep but I did so wishing I had another day and night in Guatemala.

Click here to read about day 8, our last few hours in Guatemala.