Journey in a Lifetime

It is 6:30 in the morning and Mom's house is very quiet.  Our oldest offspring has just left, bow in hand, to go sit in a tree stand, and hopefully bag one of the "big bucks".  Her dog has curled up on the sofa and is sound asleep. Everyone else is still in bed, preparing for the day ahead.  The holiday weekend is nearly over, but I wanted to arise early and have some quiet time and watch the sun peek over the east hill before the day begins.

Today marks a very special day for me, a day in which I like to look at past photographs and spend time reflecting on years gone by.  Thirty years ago today Keith and I were married at the Shrine of St. Patrick in Laurie, Missouri.  It was Thanksgiving evening on the twenty-eighth anniversary of my parents, Kirk and Madeleine Hartnett.  While my folks were married in the morning, due to fasting rules for attending Mass, they also celebrated their marriage on Thanksgiving.

When I met Keith, in Jefferson City, Missouri, he was all "city-kid" and I was definitely a country girl trying to become a city dweller.  We became fast friends and discovered we had many things in common, same taste in music and movies, both Catholic and members of the same parish, both wanted to settle down and have a family, love of travel and exploration of this great country.

We enjoyed a romantic courtship and a fairy-tale wedding.  We had great friends, jobs, and a really cute apartment.  It was like a romantic movie of the 1980s.  Then life came calling.  There were heavy disappointments, great joys, challenges with careers, and family focused decisions, but we kept moving forward.  We were too young, or self-centered, to realize these struggles were all steps in a lifetime journey.  And for thirty years we have continued to put one foot in front of the other.  Sometimes we trip each other, or push each other forward, or hold each other back for some time to reason out a decision, but we continue down this path together.

I am a stubborn, hard headed Irish woman who likes to take charge and solve the problem.  I am not one to show emotion easily, and have a tendency to expect a great deal of myself and others.  In short, not an easy person to live with.  Keith has never faltered. He puts up with my ill temper calmly, most often with a voice of reason and support.  Keith, my city-boy, has grown into a rural resident at heart.  He loves the outdoors, has worked for MoDot his entire career with retirement in short sight, has a easy going sense of humor, and is the most loyal KC Cheifs fan I know.

We both enjoy bow hunting, day-trip traveling, sitting on the deck with a beverage and solving the world's problems, and have recently taken up short hiking excursions.  We seem to do everything together and have remained best friends for thirty years of marriage. Now, with the kids grown and on their own, the youngest graduates from college in the spring, we are planning travel adventures and solidifying retirement plans.  Where did the time go?

I have often wondered how does a marriage become a good solid family foundation that survives thirty years? There is no magic formula or perfect advice to follow.  Keith and I are very lucky to have his folks and my folks as examples of what a strong marriage looks like. We also share the same faith and practice that faith, attending Sunday Mass together, being active members of our parish, and raising our children in the same faith.  Marriage is work! It is the best job I will ever have, but it takes commitment and serious effort to travel through thirty years together, raise kids, pay bills, and religiously find time every day for each other. It is so worth the effort and the time!  Keith and I know we can face anything in this world, together.

In a couple of hours, Keith and I will go to Mass, everyone else went last evening while I was sitting in a tree stand. Then the hustle and bustle of the week will be upon us.  Packing, driving back home, unpacking, figuring out supper plans, starting the laundry, and getting organized for the week ahead. Chances are I will think about the wedding album as I doze off to sleep, and not take time to enjoy the pictures of thirty years ago. I hope I remember that as soon as the alarm sounded this morning and I rolled slowly out of bed, Keith grabbed my hand and said, "Happy Anniversary."

Photo Credit: Ryan Tindle

A Different Journey of Gratitude

Good Morning!

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and hopefully everyone found time to enjoy family and friends.  Hopefully, everyone found time to reflect on the positives in life: family, memories, friends, and a great meal.

Legend, as introduced in American elementary schools, is that the Pilgrims and Native Americans celebrated the first Thanksgiving to express gratitude for surviving the harsh beginnings of Plymouth Plantation. In essence, the general theme of gathering the harvest and welcoming neighbors for a celebratory feast is the root of the first Thanksgiving.  A tradition that has become a national holiday.

Has this holiday been overshadowed by other things?  Do we really think about the origins of this day?  It is so easy to get tied up in the preparations for the big meal, family traveling to and from, setting the table, cleaning up after the big meal, finding room for sleep over guests, and planning the rest of the weekend's activities.  Then there are football games! When the house quiets down on Thursday's evening, plans for Black Friday shopping and Christmas decorating are on the top of the lists of weekend projects.  So, how much thanks is actually given on Thanksgiving?

PART TWO...

Saturday morning....

Yesterday, as I was writing the above portion of this post, enjoying coffee with Mom and getting geared up to truly reflect on a holiday that seems to be waning in it's appreciation, I received a startling phone call that brought every self-serving intention to an abrupt halt.

Our parish in Fulton, St. Peter Parish, received a terrible blow Friday.  Father Frank Bussmann, our parish priest died after suffering a massive stroke the night before.  Father Frank was a genuine man and a very devout priest. During the six and a half years he was our pastor, he brought a peace and reverence to our parish and school that will long be remembered.

Father's homilies for the children's Liturgies were inspiring and enlightening.  He had a great knowledge of the travels and ministry of St. Paul, and shared that knowledge through age appropriate stories and explanations about the Scripture reading of the day.  His love of the Saints often led to discussions within the religion classes following Mass. When personal and community loss visited our small rural parish, Father Frank was so very compassionate and supportive. His spiritual leadership following the deaths of two students in a two year time span was of great solace to many.

When my family was journeying through mourning the loss of my dad, Father Frank was very helpful to me, listening and guiding with a solid faith base and an understanding of how hard it is to lose a family member. He was helpful in ways he will never know, but in ways that taught me it was okay to be "at a loss" of how to find the right way to deal with grief.

The students enjoyed Father's visits to the classroom. When the children served as readers for the school Masses, he would so enjoy hearing the youngest of students read, and never missed an opportunity to thank the student choir for their hard work.  I often have heard students who were altar servers comment on how they enjoyed serving Mass with Father Frank because he never got upset if they made a mistake. The students truly liked Father Frank

So, as we are winding down the holiday weekend designated as a time for reflection and thanksgiving, I want to ignore the shopping, the decorating, the football games, and whatever other madness this holiday seems to compete with and just be thankful.  I have an amazingly strong and loving family who have no comprehension of the word defeat.  These people; my brother, Mom, my husband Keith and our wonderful children are all the foundation that allows us all to grow and chase our dreams.  I am thankful for the wonderful community of St. Peter Parish and all the prayers I know are being offered for the Bussmann family during this painful time.  Father Frank, thank you for being may pastor, for all you brought to St. Peter, for all the times you listened to me and the would thank me for teaching at St. Peter School. I hope to follow your example of living a life of sincerity and faith and gratitude for all the Good Lord provides.