The day began with everyone heading to their rooms between one and two this morning! Dawn crept in on a chilly and rainy note, but spirits continued to be high and lists were long.
The kids have several things to accomplish from finishing decorating touches for the reception to setting up said decorations at the venue. Picking up a rental car, checking on rehersal arrangements (my one responsibility), more guests checking in, finding an easily accessible cafe for breakfast, finding and easy route to the church, then deciding that UBER was a better choice, and visiting and catching up with family and friends. A full day.
What I find heartwarming is everyone's willingness to pitch in, give rides, run errands, and trouble shoot when something isn't panning out as anticipated! We are all in this journey of life, and it so rewarding to travel that journey together.
Last evening the groom had his bachelor party and chose to return to hotel and continue celebrating with his siblings, uncle, and grandmother. The ladies had a bride's bash that resulted in creating signs from distressed wood. Everyone returned to hotel with smiles and excitement. Some were moving a little more slowly this morning, but everyone was smiling!
Friends and family are traveling from several states and farway locations to celebrate Allie's and Mark's big day tomorrow. The weather is not as lovely as we had hoped, but the Hilton Garden West is a great facility, and we feel very welcome taking advantage of their lobby sitting areas and the nice rooms. Hopefully we can enjoy the great patios later today or this evening. No one seems disappointed or concerned about the cool damp weather.
More family and Mark's godparents are due to arrive within a couple of hours. Our really close friends from Fulton will be here late this evening, and a neice arrives around midnight. A great many people have rearranged schedules, taken off work, spent money on hotel accomodations, offered to help, and have wished the kids many congratulations.
A wedding is an excellent reason for everyone to come together and celebrate. Too bad we don't just pick an ordinary day every few months and "celebrate". It seems we only make time to include other family and friends for a big blowout when it is a "big" event. This life we have been given is not something we should ever take for granted, and these type celebrations remind of us of those who have finished their life journeys and cannot physically join us today.
We should travel ordinary and exciting journeys with a spirit of rejoicing. We should travelthese journeys together.
Friday, October 5, 2018
Saturday, September 29, 2018
Exciting New Journeys
Most often people look at autumn as a season of harvests, more enjoyable weather, and new beginnings for those who are students. Teachers often look forward to cooler weather, yet dread the Harvest Moon and the approach of Halloween. This year I have looked at the second half of the 2018 as a season of many new and exciting journeys.
First off our oldest son, Mark will be marrying a wonderful young woman in October! The planning, mostly accomplished in Omaha, by the bride and groom and the bride's family, has been an eye-opening and intense process. Little details and big decisions have been in the forefront since last spring. Dress and tuxedo selections, table center pieces, venue searches, instructions with the parish priest, choosing a photographer, and much more have all been handled and the big day approaches.
Last month, a couples bridal shower was hosted in Fulton by the Best Man, the grooms brother, and a Bridesmaid, the groom's sister. The decorations alone were perfect. Both the bride and groom enjoy gaming and Harry Potter, so the decorations and cake reflected these tastes.
Another new adventure this fall finds me making a serious career change! After many successful and fulfilling years at St. Peter School in Fulton, Missouri, I decided I needed a change. A serious health scare last fall that took several months to diagnose as stress related issues motivated me to take a very honest look at my life habits. While it was hard to move from a community of wonderful students and life-long friends, I am very excited to be working for St. Joseph School in Martinsburg, Missouri!
The forty minute drive each morning is refreshing and absolutely beautiful. Suprisingly, I find the drive home relaxing, allowing me to return home each evening focussed on my husband and our home and family. I also find myself spending more time with concentrated efforts to really enrich my friendships. The change in career was a little scary, but I am truely enjoying the teaching and the rural parish community.
So, two big, huge changes this fall, and I couldn't be happier. I am a creature of estalished habits, and now, I am having to step out of my comfort zone and look at things with a new focus. We are welcoming Allie to our family next week, and she will make Mark's life more fulfilling. We are not an easy family. We are exceptionally close, loyal, passionate, opinionated, loud, fun-loving...you get the idea. What is amazing is we have not scared Allie away! She has a very clear perception of how this Jacobsen family works, and she is willing to join us!
Choosing to work at a different school after nearly 30 years of teaching at St. Peter School was not in my "life plan". I had always planned on retiring from St. Pete's, but when the new opportunity was presented, I knew I had to take a chance. I am very excited to be teaching, and that excitement had been missing for a long time. I now have time for me, time for Keith, time for my grown children and the adventures they bring.
Keith and I are planning some travel adventures and some healthy, life changing goals. Today's journey? Shopping for a mother of the groom outfit for the wedding!
First off our oldest son, Mark will be marrying a wonderful young woman in October! The planning, mostly accomplished in Omaha, by the bride and groom and the bride's family, has been an eye-opening and intense process. Little details and big decisions have been in the forefront since last spring. Dress and tuxedo selections, table center pieces, venue searches, instructions with the parish priest, choosing a photographer, and much more have all been handled and the big day approaches.
Last month, a couples bridal shower was hosted in Fulton by the Best Man, the grooms brother, and a Bridesmaid, the groom's sister. The decorations alone were perfect. Both the bride and groom enjoy gaming and Harry Potter, so the decorations and cake reflected these tastes.
Another new adventure this fall finds me making a serious career change! After many successful and fulfilling years at St. Peter School in Fulton, Missouri, I decided I needed a change. A serious health scare last fall that took several months to diagnose as stress related issues motivated me to take a very honest look at my life habits. While it was hard to move from a community of wonderful students and life-long friends, I am very excited to be working for St. Joseph School in Martinsburg, Missouri!
The forty minute drive each morning is refreshing and absolutely beautiful. Suprisingly, I find the drive home relaxing, allowing me to return home each evening focussed on my husband and our home and family. I also find myself spending more time with concentrated efforts to really enrich my friendships. The change in career was a little scary, but I am truely enjoying the teaching and the rural parish community.
So, two big, huge changes this fall, and I couldn't be happier. I am a creature of estalished habits, and now, I am having to step out of my comfort zone and look at things with a new focus. We are welcoming Allie to our family next week, and she will make Mark's life more fulfilling. We are not an easy family. We are exceptionally close, loyal, passionate, opinionated, loud, fun-loving...you get the idea. What is amazing is we have not scared Allie away! She has a very clear perception of how this Jacobsen family works, and she is willing to join us!
Choosing to work at a different school after nearly 30 years of teaching at St. Peter School was not in my "life plan". I had always planned on retiring from St. Pete's, but when the new opportunity was presented, I knew I had to take a chance. I am very excited to be teaching, and that excitement had been missing for a long time. I now have time for me, time for Keith, time for my grown children and the adventures they bring.
Keith and I are planning some travel adventures and some healthy, life changing goals. Today's journey? Shopping for a mother of the groom outfit for the wedding!
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
The Journey Continues
Something a little different this morning: not a journey so much as a look back over an amazing journey that continues forward every day. Decided to go with a different style as well, and I hope you enjoy it.
The woman sits at the small dining table and looks west out across the lake below; coffee in hand and calm in her heart. The morning sun is beginning to rise above the hill to the east of the house she has lived in for 37 years, and a red bird sits on the deck rail across from her window. It is a beautiful morning. A slight smile plays across her face as she thinks of previous mornings on this date, the journey is good.
She was born and raised in Kansas City, the youngest of three. Her parents were hard working, and had survived the Great Depression to start their own business, a diaper service. As a child and into adulthood, the woman had worked in the family business, as well as other business ventures. MLZ Corporation had been her company, delivering cigarettes and towels throughout the Lake Ozark area during the fifties. She worked along side her father, driving speed boats and perfecting the art of water skiing.
She had attended the French Convent in Kansas City, and had survived one horrible semester in college. She loved learning, and had a passion for reading. She married a man she had met at fourteen and they built a solid life together. They lived in Atchison, Kansas while he attended college, both running the local movie theaters at night. They had lived in Kansas City, and then the move to southeast Kansas came along, and here she was fifty some years later. She loved her home, but it still surprised her that this is where they had settled.
After attending a Catholic girls' school, modeling for Harzfeld's, and attending society events and charitable fund raisers in the city, she had never anticipated she would move to a small town, then move into "the country", and run a cattle operation with her husband, Nor had she ever thought she would learn to put up hay in the heat of summer, build fence, fix water gaps, vaccinate cattle, ride horses, drive tractors, heat a farm house with an old Ashley wood stove, and fight frozen pipes in the dead of winter. Looking back she sees the good times, the great memories, the laughter as well as the struggles, the disappointments, the challenges --- Life was nothing if not adventurous.
Her two children are grown, in their fifties. Her son lives around the corner, just three miles away, and she sees him nearly every day, as they now run the cattle operation together. Her daughter is a state away, but she visits when she can. Three grandchildren are in constant contact and all plan to arrive for the holiday in two weeks. She has a legacy, and a good one.
Her children see her as a strong, independent, compassionate, and determined woman. The last two years have not been what she had hoped, but things are getting accomplished, and she is moving forward. So many things to look forward to in the next few weeks: Christmas! The house will be crowded with people and a house dog. It will be anything but quiet with meals to enjoy, some coming and going to the deer stand in search of the monster buck, sleeping arrangements to juggle and packages to open. Of course the grudge card match, spades is their game, will continue through nearly every night of the gathering. Family comes first, this is as it should be.
She travels. She travels with a close friend and then with her daughter. It has been a delight to discover New Orleans, San Antonio, and the Civil War History of Maryland and Virginia. More trips are in the planning and making-of-reservations stage, and she is looking forward to these trips. She enjoys the planning almost more than the traveling. Seeing new places, trying new foods, enjoying new beverages, exploring new sights and museums--- true adventures.
Events and celebrations are in the future, a grandson will graduate college. Another grandson will be married, and the family will grow. She looks forward to all that lies ahead. Before the day is out, her grandchildren will call, or text, to wish her a" Happy Birthday," she will open the gift her daughter stashed in the office over Thanksgiving, and she will enjoy dinner with great friends. She knows she has accomplished a great deal, worked successfully at different careers, retiring from administrative law enforcement, made sacrifices, and enjoyed rewards.
The Christmas tree sits in the east window, the lights winking, as if to remind her of the things she wants to get finished before the holidays arrive. Maybe just one more cup of coffee and a few more minutes enjoying the peace and calm. A minute or two to wish herself a "Happy Birthday."
The woman sits at the small dining table and looks west out across the lake below; coffee in hand and calm in her heart. The morning sun is beginning to rise above the hill to the east of the house she has lived in for 37 years, and a red bird sits on the deck rail across from her window. It is a beautiful morning. A slight smile plays across her face as she thinks of previous mornings on this date, the journey is good.
She was born and raised in Kansas City, the youngest of three. Her parents were hard working, and had survived the Great Depression to start their own business, a diaper service. As a child and into adulthood, the woman had worked in the family business, as well as other business ventures. MLZ Corporation had been her company, delivering cigarettes and towels throughout the Lake Ozark area during the fifties. She worked along side her father, driving speed boats and perfecting the art of water skiing.
She had attended the French Convent in Kansas City, and had survived one horrible semester in college. She loved learning, and had a passion for reading. She married a man she had met at fourteen and they built a solid life together. They lived in Atchison, Kansas while he attended college, both running the local movie theaters at night. They had lived in Kansas City, and then the move to southeast Kansas came along, and here she was fifty some years later. She loved her home, but it still surprised her that this is where they had settled.
After attending a Catholic girls' school, modeling for Harzfeld's, and attending society events and charitable fund raisers in the city, she had never anticipated she would move to a small town, then move into "the country", and run a cattle operation with her husband, Nor had she ever thought she would learn to put up hay in the heat of summer, build fence, fix water gaps, vaccinate cattle, ride horses, drive tractors, heat a farm house with an old Ashley wood stove, and fight frozen pipes in the dead of winter. Looking back she sees the good times, the great memories, the laughter as well as the struggles, the disappointments, the challenges --- Life was nothing if not adventurous.
Her two children are grown, in their fifties. Her son lives around the corner, just three miles away, and she sees him nearly every day, as they now run the cattle operation together. Her daughter is a state away, but she visits when she can. Three grandchildren are in constant contact and all plan to arrive for the holiday in two weeks. She has a legacy, and a good one.
Her children see her as a strong, independent, compassionate, and determined woman. The last two years have not been what she had hoped, but things are getting accomplished, and she is moving forward. So many things to look forward to in the next few weeks: Christmas! The house will be crowded with people and a house dog. It will be anything but quiet with meals to enjoy, some coming and going to the deer stand in search of the monster buck, sleeping arrangements to juggle and packages to open. Of course the grudge card match, spades is their game, will continue through nearly every night of the gathering. Family comes first, this is as it should be.
She travels. She travels with a close friend and then with her daughter. It has been a delight to discover New Orleans, San Antonio, and the Civil War History of Maryland and Virginia. More trips are in the planning and making-of-reservations stage, and she is looking forward to these trips. She enjoys the planning almost more than the traveling. Seeing new places, trying new foods, enjoying new beverages, exploring new sights and museums--- true adventures.
Events and celebrations are in the future, a grandson will graduate college. Another grandson will be married, and the family will grow. She looks forward to all that lies ahead. Before the day is out, her grandchildren will call, or text, to wish her a" Happy Birthday," she will open the gift her daughter stashed in the office over Thanksgiving, and she will enjoy dinner with great friends. She knows she has accomplished a great deal, worked successfully at different careers, retiring from administrative law enforcement, made sacrifices, and enjoyed rewards.
The Christmas tree sits in the east window, the lights winking, as if to remind her of the things she wants to get finished before the holidays arrive. Maybe just one more cup of coffee and a few more minutes enjoying the peace and calm. A minute or two to wish herself a "Happy Birthday."
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| Photo by Ryan Tindle |
Sunday, November 26, 2017
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."
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."
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| Photo Credit: Ryan Tindle |
Saturday, November 25, 2017
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
A Tiny Church and a Small Town
Yesterday, we headed out of San Antonio toward Houston to visit my Uncle Dennis and Aunt Joyce who live on Lake Conroe. Driving was very stress-free, and we began to really enjoy the scenery: cattle ranches and small rural town along the roadside. Dennis had suggested we find a church between Warrenton and Round Top, Texas. Our GPS misdirected us by about a half mile, but mom spotted the church. We turned around and parked in front of St. Martin's, the tiniest, active Catholic Church in the country!
This tiny church sits just outside of Warrenton, Texas, nestled in the pasture land of the area. We ventured into the yard, through the cemetery, and entered the church. This beautiful chapel-sized church is a very rustic and charming building. The pastor regularly celebrates Mass, and visitors are encouraged to write down Mass intention requests.
After we left St. Martin's we traveled into Round Top, Texas for lunch. What a find! This charming little town of 94 people is a step into quiet, charming, rural America. We enjoyed a wonderful lunch at Teague's Tavern, then wandered through the Henkel Square. With a fountain in the center of this beautiful park, walkways wander through shops with late 1800s storefronts. A small church is at the "head" of the walkway, and there was a little arched wooden bridge crossed to the fountain.
This little town hosts a huge antique fair twice a year when thousands flock to the area to buy, sell, and trade antiques. This venue would be a great destination to visit, not necessarily during the antique fairs, when you could spend a day or two just wandering through town. Unfortunately, most of the businesses are closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, so we just took pictures and moved down the road.
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| St. Martin's Church |
This tiny church sits just outside of Warrenton, Texas, nestled in the pasture land of the area. We ventured into the yard, through the cemetery, and entered the church. This beautiful chapel-sized church is a very rustic and charming building. The pastor regularly celebrates Mass, and visitors are encouraged to write down Mass intention requests.
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| The Altar in St. Martin's |
After we left St. Martin's we traveled into Round Top, Texas for lunch. What a find! This charming little town of 94 people is a step into quiet, charming, rural America. We enjoyed a wonderful lunch at Teague's Tavern, then wandered through the Henkel Square. With a fountain in the center of this beautiful park, walkways wander through shops with late 1800s storefronts. A small church is at the "head" of the walkway, and there was a little arched wooden bridge crossed to the fountain.
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| The church in Henkel Square, Round Top, Texas |
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| Henkel Square fountain |
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| Store in Henkel Square |
This little town hosts a huge antique fair twice a year when thousands flock to the area to buy, sell, and trade antiques. This venue would be a great destination to visit, not necessarily during the antique fairs, when you could spend a day or two just wandering through town. Unfortunately, most of the businesses are closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, so we just took pictures and moved down the road.
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| Seating in the Henkel Square. |
Mission Trail
Saturday and Sunday we have explored the area south of downtown San Antonio. As recommended by Jeffery at our hotel, Wyndham Gardens, we visited the San Jose Mission, the Queen of the Missions, Saturday. It was very easy to find and the parking was very nice.
We visited the onsite museum, learning a great deal about the four missions along the Mission Trail south of the river walk. With a wonderful self-guided tour map, we entered the southeast gate of the mission. The walls are all intact with access to small "apartments" designated for the Native American residents. Three wells were visible across the complex. There were stone foundation remains of the workshop areas.
I was in awe at the size of the church and what had been the priest's residence and work areas for the lay people. A huge to-scale model in the northwest corner of the complex was very informative of what daily life had been like in this mission. It was amazing to realize we were walking where people had lived, worked, and prayed nearly 300 years ago. As mom noted, "It is a very reverent place."
On the south side of the church was the Rosa's window, sculpted in 1775, by a Spanish artist as a tribute to his lost love, Rosa. Legend claims that the pastor would stand in the window, elevating the Blessed Sacrament, and the Native Americans and Spanish colonists would kneel outside the window in Adoration. The carvings around the window are beyond beautiful, even though time has worn away some of the finer details.
We walked leisurely about the grounds and out the north entrance to the grist mill. The aquifer was running clear and the gristmill was displayed for all to see how it had worked centuries ago. Mom really enjoyed that and was fascinated by the mechanical workings of the mill.
Next, we wanted to see the interior of the church, and mom was very interested to see if it would be similar to the San Diego Mission she and Dad had visited years ago with Aunt Marggie and Uncle Bill. The west entrance to the church is a facade of four larger that life statues, earning this mission the title: Queen of the Missions.
When we entered the church, all visitors were so reverent and quiet. I was thrilled we were allowed to take pictures. The back Altar was a true work of art! Plain wood pews gave the interior an authentic feel as we paused to sit and reflect on where we were. It was a very moving experience.
A thunderstorm began moving in, so we visited the gift shop and decided to call it a day. Sunday morning, after breakfast and lots of shopping we headed out to visit Mission Concepcion. I wanted to take the mission trail, the roadway of the early 1700s that connected the four missions south of Mission San Antonio, now called the Alamo, but I missed the turn. We did connect up with the Mission Trail and easily found the Mission. However, there was very little parking and that was filled to capacity...Mass was in progress. Then the rain reappeared. So I parked, kind of, and hurried across the lawn to take pictures and read the historical markers. What I found fascinating was that the rock quarry used to build the church and other structures, was partially visible, on site. Only the church and adjacent building remained of this mission, but we could still get a feel of how it might have been. The well was more ornate and the church doors, as at Mission San Jose, were massive wooden structures.
I would have to say, of the three missions we visited this week, San Antonio (Alamo), Concepcion, and San Jose, the most rewarding was San Jose. It truly challenges the imagination to stand in the center of that enclosure and wonder what life must have been like in the 1720s in the Spanish territory of North America.
We visited the onsite museum, learning a great deal about the four missions along the Mission Trail south of the river walk. With a wonderful self-guided tour map, we entered the southeast gate of the mission. The walls are all intact with access to small "apartments" designated for the Native American residents. Three wells were visible across the complex. There were stone foundation remains of the workshop areas.
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| Small "apartments" for the Native Americans were built within the walls around the perimeter of the mission. |
I was in awe at the size of the church and what had been the priest's residence and work areas for the lay people. A huge to-scale model in the northwest corner of the complex was very informative of what daily life had been like in this mission. It was amazing to realize we were walking where people had lived, worked, and prayed nearly 300 years ago. As mom noted, "It is a very reverent place."
On the south side of the church was the Rosa's window, sculpted in 1775, by a Spanish artist as a tribute to his lost love, Rosa. Legend claims that the pastor would stand in the window, elevating the Blessed Sacrament, and the Native Americans and Spanish colonists would kneel outside the window in Adoration. The carvings around the window are beyond beautiful, even though time has worn away some of the finer details.
 |
| Rosa's Window |
We walked leisurely about the grounds and out the north entrance to the grist mill. The aquifer was running clear and the gristmill was displayed for all to see how it had worked centuries ago. Mom really enjoyed that and was fascinated by the mechanical workings of the mill.
 |
| Grist mill |
Next, we wanted to see the interior of the church, and mom was very interested to see if it would be similar to the San Diego Mission she and Dad had visited years ago with Aunt Marggie and Uncle Bill. The west entrance to the church is a facade of four larger that life statues, earning this mission the title: Queen of the Missions.
 |
| Front facade of San Jose Mission Church |
When we entered the church, all visitors were so reverent and quiet. I was thrilled we were allowed to take pictures. The back Altar was a true work of art! Plain wood pews gave the interior an authentic feel as we paused to sit and reflect on where we were. It was a very moving experience.
 |
| Altar of San Jose Mission Church |
A thunderstorm began moving in, so we visited the gift shop and decided to call it a day. Sunday morning, after breakfast and lots of shopping we headed out to visit Mission Concepcion. I wanted to take the mission trail, the roadway of the early 1700s that connected the four missions south of Mission San Antonio, now called the Alamo, but I missed the turn. We did connect up with the Mission Trail and easily found the Mission. However, there was very little parking and that was filled to capacity...Mass was in progress. Then the rain reappeared. So I parked, kind of, and hurried across the lawn to take pictures and read the historical markers. What I found fascinating was that the rock quarry used to build the church and other structures, was partially visible, on site. Only the church and adjacent building remained of this mission, but we could still get a feel of how it might have been. The well was more ornate and the church doors, as at Mission San Jose, were massive wooden structures.
I would have to say, of the three missions we visited this week, San Antonio (Alamo), Concepcion, and San Jose, the most rewarding was San Jose. It truly challenges the imagination to stand in the center of that enclosure and wonder what life must have been like in the 1720s in the Spanish territory of North America.
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