The C word

Posted on June 18, 2012 by Kim Halloran-Fry

It is coming up altogether too often lately – cancer. Striking far closer to home than we'd like. Rob is still fighting for his life having undergone several rounds of chemo and two major surgeries, with two more to follow. Another friend is in Munich this month while her husband receives treatment there. Two close family members of my husband have underdone surgery and/or other cancer treatments in the past couple months. We have prayed and prayed. St. Peregrine has heard a lot from us indeed.

We were running errands Saturday, leaving a deposit for the temporary furnished place we will be staying in between the time our things are moved out and we leave the country. The cell phone rang with very bad news. Jemma, my friend Julie's littlest one, had been hospitalized a few days earlier for what had become a really significant infection. There had been no apparent cause however and by Saturday morning they had to begin considering ominous explanations. Scans and bloodwork confirmed she has ALL – Leukemia I choked over the words when I called home to tell the girls. Not Jemma. : /

Julie, you might remember, is the creator of the Speed Math card game. We spend Tuesday mornings together over cameras and knitting needles. Tomorrow her older daughter comes for her last piano lesson with Alannah. Then life changes. She and her brother will press on with a prearranged vacation to family in the States to be cared for there. Julie, meantime, will be bedside with Jemma through a 35day in-patient course of chemo which will be followed by many times weekly outpatient visits for 6months and 18 months of regular appointments after. Assuming all goes well of course.

Jemma is a curly-topped blonde dynamo, the bitty one pictured below and here. She speaks good German which will help a great deal at the hospital. At just five she performs with the local German folk dancing club, kicking her tiny feet over head and spinning in time. She is a classic girly-girl, loving dress-up and hairbows and handcrafts – which she is remarkably good at for such a young age. We would like to see her be able to enjoy as much of the things she loves in life as possible while going through treatment.

We are leaving very soon but I wish to continue to walk this road with Julie's family if we can help in any way. If you would like to support Jemma and her family also, we have thought of some ways to do that. Jemma will be losing those lovely curls to the chemo. We would love to shower her with accessories to wear in their place. Hats, elasticized hair bows or flowers, costume jewelry, wings/feathers etc. These things are harder to come by in Germany.

She has an ipad so gift certificates to the itunes store for educational apps or audio books would bless them too as they pass the hours at the hospital. Small handcrafts. The children in Julie's family absolutely love to get postcards from around the world. Jemma loves mail. (I am going to suggest that if you were thinking of purchasing a pack of Julie's math cards maybe go ahead and do that now too : )) I know a lot of creative women read this blog, some of whose families have weathered cancer as well, and will have ideas I haven't considered too. If so, please contact Julie or I and we can give you their mailing address which is an American address and will not cost more to send to.

edited to correct email to

jmommymom@gmail.com

Highhill Homeschool blog

a few more pages

Posted on June 17, 2012 by Kim Halloran-Fry

"I would be most content if my children grew up to be the kind of people who think decorating consists mostly of building enough bookshelves."

~Anna Quindlen

the graduate(s)

Posted on June 10, 2012 by Kim Halloran-Fry

My baby girl donned her cap and gown this weekend, graduating from high school with her besties, along the shore of wooded pond. It was a tremendous moment for us all, not because we didn't see it coming. She didn't just burst into womanhood but has just naturally eased right into it, feeling very comfortable in her skin.

I realized this time, the fourth time we have sent a child forth out of our homeschool nest, that it is different now. People ask, "Does it get easier?" They mean, I think, "Does parenting get easier? Does teaching (and choosing curricula and methods) get easier? Does letting go get easier?" Well, it must, because the thing that has struck me the most about all that in recent weeks is that I no longer feel the angst I felt as a young mom.

Decisions that were all consuming for many, many years no longer occupy my every waking moment. Not because we no longer have small children, for we definitely do. Somehow it is easier now to make peace with the reality that every choice we make necessarily closes other doors. It is easier to trust that even if we don't select the very 'best' math program or music lesson or scout troop that God can still make everything work for good if our intentions are sincere. It is a little bit easier to feel in my heart that even if they aren't under my roof, we are still bound very tightly in our hearts.

I don't know where life is taking this girl of ours. She will be close by for a bit yet, taking advantage of this opportunity to see Europe. But I know that even when she leaves, she is still our own dear girl. And we are going to be ok. As she said in her commencement speech, "We've got this."

It isn't just kids that grow up. Families do too.

(the dads gave speeches as well as the girls' close friend, Sarah. Then the girls each shared some thoughts.)

Thank goodness for some levity at this point because there was not a dry eye by then!

All I am going to say about this is that dessert may or may not have been analogous to our homeschool journey. We sighed over Pinterest images of little cake pop graduates. Then, as we attempted a makeshift double boiler far too late the morning of the ceremony, our white chocolate 'seized'. We improvised with tiny 'diplomas' made of Ho-Ho's last minute. They worked. They were devoured. And no one was any worse for wear for having missed the cake pop experience. note this : )

It's been a marvelous ride, sweet girl.

ordinary time

Posted on June 9, 2012 by Kim Halloran-Fry

The ordinary acts we practice every day at home are of more importance to the soul than their simplicity might suggest.

St. Thomas More

pilgrimage

Posted on June 7, 2012 by Kim Halloran-Fry

This story began long before our feet touched the cobblestones in Prague. In fact my earnest prayers to the Infant, many years ago, were some of the first for which I recall receiving distinct and immediate answers. Still it was many years before I really understood the whole concept of contemplating our Lord as a mere babe. Maybe I am still uncovering more layers to this mystery and its application to my life, which is also vulnerable and fragile and every bit as dependent on Providence and mercy as was the Infant in the manger.

This is the ultimate paradox – the Saviour became weak, helpless. He entered the world swaddled immobile and left it bound securely to a tree and later swathed tightly in linen again. This is not the sort of hero people were expecting. It still isn't.

"my power is made perfect in weakness…" 2 Cor 12:9

This is something we do well to consider.

"…Let us then also follow the magi, let us separate ourselves from our barbarian customs, and make our distance therefrom great, that we may see Christ, since they too, had they not been far from their own country, would have missed seeing Him. Let us depart from the things of earth. For so the wise men, while they were in Persia, saw but the star, but after they had departed from Persia, they beheld the Sun of Righteousness. Or rather, they would not have seen so much as the star, unless they had readily risen up from thence.

Let us then also rise up; though all men be troubled, let us run to the house of the young Child;

though kings, though nations, though tyrants interrupt this our path, let not our desire pass away. For so shall we thoroughly repel all the dangers that beset us. Since these too, except they had seen the young Child, would not have escaped their danger from the king. Before seeing the young Child, fears and dangers and troubles pressed upon them from every side; but after the adoration, it is calm and security; and no longer a star but an angel receives them, having become priests from the act of adoration; for we see that they offered gifts also. Do thou therefore likewise leave the Jewish people, the troubled city, the blood-thirsty tyrant, the pomp of the world, and hasten to Bethlehem, where is the house of the spiritual Bread. For though thou be a shepherd, and come hither, thou wilt behold the young Child in an inn: though thou be a king, and approach not here, thy purple robe will profit thee nothing; though thou be one of the wise men, this will be no hindrance to thee; only let thy coming be to honor and adore, not to spurn the Son of God; only do this with trembling and joy…" – St. John Chrysostom (ca. A.D. 347-407)

Our desire, likewise, did not pass away and our first stop in Prague was to the Church of Our Lady of Victory to kneel and pray "with trembling and joy."

So very much has happened in the weeks since our pilgrimage I haven't really known where to begin to explain it all. Life is changing very quickly once again, though I have come to expect that. When God acts in my life it is decisive and dramatic very often. So it has been.

Symbolic of the change has been the final closing of the sale of the ranch last month. It all happened during these weeks before and after our trip. I say it is symbolic because my life 'before' was so tied to that place that even this blog and my photography work bear its name. Truly a new chapter has begun.

I can't do justice to all have carried in my heart so I will just leave you to the pictures.

Of course, she was here. Of course. My ever present companion.

(I am happy here I really am. But a big puffy, sniffly, pour-your-whole-heart-out mess by then)

A Story of the Infant Jesus of Prague

Infant of Prague prayers and history

backroads

Posted on June 5, 2012 by Kim Halloran-Fry

breathing in, breathing out

Sometimes I remind myself, because life begins to hyperventilate. There is so very much that must be done to make these moves happen. Appointments, calls, house showing at a moment's notice, sorting, car sales, paperwork, contracts to sign, things to be faxed, more sorting. And there are still dinners to cook and papers to check and little heads to shampoo and laundry to fold. and. and. and…

When life is moving at a sprint you get winded faster.

I had begun to feel that – winded – but I pressed on, perhaps harder and longer than was prudent. The tank must fill – and so must the lungs. You can't talk and type and call and run without pausing for a breath. Not for long. Not and hope to have anything worth saying, nor to do any of the many things that must be done halfway well.

Some deep breaths were overdue. Fortunately we know where to find them. I round up my men and we head down the back road. These walks have the paradoxical effect of tiring the little ones out while invigorating me. Much better than the other way around things.

We pass the jet-coated stray. We spot a buck in the grain field. We toss daisies at each other and moo at the cows. And we laugh, long and loud.

Deep breath.

This is good.

It isn't a luxury. It is the essence of life itself and life is too short and too uncertain to take it in by frantic gulps and gasps. I am old enough to know this now, but there are seasons I have to live it more conscienciously than others. This is one of them.

Steady on.

Take the back roads instead of the highways. - Minnie Pearl

impulsive and poetical

Posted on June 3, 2012 by Kim Halloran-Fry

"They drew a long whistle at the same time when they entered the door together and saw the table draped in snowy white. They weren't used to tablecloths. Before each place she laid a snowy napkin. The young fellows so unused to this custom of civilization were dazzled by the whiteness.

Margaret had also added a touch of refinement in the few green leaves and blossoms she gathered in her morning tour around the house. they were wild blossoms, it's true, and nothing but weeds in the eyes of the men who daily stepped on similar ones without noticing. But here on this snowy linen, in a tiny crystal vase carefully unpacked from Margaret's trunk they took on new beauty.

It was like the girl, impulsive and poetical, that she kept the whole dinner waiting a minute while she found the vase and added the touch of beauty to the already inviting table. Who knew but that the flowers might speak to those men of the God who made them?"

– Because of Stephen, Grace Livingston Hill, 1904

bloom and grow

Posted on May 31, 2012 by Kim Halloran-Fry

I haven't written a particularly thoughtful post in a while. All my energy has been poured into moving and making memories here. But I am thinking still <g> and wanted to share random things.

People ask now and then if I would elaborate on living overseas for extended periods with children. Why? How? There isn't one easy answer. In fact there are a lot of answers. Some of them can be found here here here and here. It is hard to describe a decision that wasn't a decision. I didn't really plan nor have a deep desire to do this (though I am so very glad I did) and I have precious little expectation for the future. No earthly idea what it holds. Seriously.

If there is one thing that has been proven to me time and again it is that I am usually wrong about what I want and what is best. I can't possibly see the whole picture from my vantage point. But God can. And He has put us in places we could not have imagined and provided unforeseen opportunities. Likewise, He has granted me some of my fondest wishes and often those did not end up being good things.

The moral of that story is that happiness is not in getting what you want, but in wanting what you get – whether that uproots you or binds you to one place.

So instead of holding rigidly to what I think I want, I have worked to embrace those 20 seconds of insane courage Benjamin Mee describes. That is what got me on the plane here. That is what is getting me to England. And wherever else life takes us. Just wild trust that God works every bit of it for good. That may be more country hopping. It may be major illness. We have seen both and so have those close to us. Life can change in an instant. There is a good plan at work though. Plan for hope and a future. And I know where I am and what I am to do today. So I am going with that.

Some random linking:

I love this family's house. Period. Love.

I have thought a lot about this article about A Grown Up House since close friends are also relocating this year and we are all at the stage in life where some of our stuff is wearing out and some is just being outgrown. Moving does provide stimulus to reevaluate one's earthly belongings and determine if they still meet a need. Or not.

on really BEing home

yes, I like living in Japan – my friend Sue's thoughts on living abroad