Beloved Blessings

Today my beloved turned 50. We marvel at this. We read Psalm 90 concerning our human mortality to 'celebrate' this day...

Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations.

Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the earth and the world,

from everlasting to everlasting

you are God....

Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom....

Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days! ....

May your deeds be shown to your servants, your splendor to their children....

May the favour of the Lord our God rest upon us; establish the work of our hands for us -- yes, establish the work of our hands.

My family planned a wonderful surprise party for this occasion whilst we were gone golfing for the day at Cobble Beach ... I will post a pictorial tour of those festivities next. What a great evening. Thanks so much for blessing us with a most memorable mark of this milestone!

Happy Birthday Barry. You are loved muchly!

Campfire Camaraderie

The rules are simple.

You grab a bag of munchies to share - take a beverage of your choice, throw a lawn chair over the shoulder and set out to find the nearest raging camp fire with a crowd that'll accommodate another body or two into their circle.

The munchies get tossed from one side to the other as easily as the conversation - and blast, the Sour Cream and Onion always disappears first. At times we miss the toss...

Who needs a flashlight (or any 21rst century 'torch') when God places a moon like this

in the night sky? Simply amazing, filtered through our canopy of trees.

One of the younger tykes around our campfire suggested a word game which we enjoyed so much, we carried on with for three more rounds! Everyone had to choose a word and whisper it in the ear of a neutral player who made record of them. They'd be read aloud only twice in random order and someone would start the game by matching the word to a person around the campfire. A correct match eliminated you from the game. An incorrect match scored you the right to guess. The most common, non-descript words usually ended up winning the round since they were easily forgotten and of course, the more people playing - the trickier the round.

The 'other' campfire crowd down the way were clearly not having as much fun - we were ambushed sometime after midnight with a torrent of foil balls over the tree line. The raiding party beat a trail out of there but Michelle's trademark uhmm...'snicker' blew their cover. LOL

The Lighter Side of Life

Chesley Lake is an annual veritable feast of family & fellowship for Vanderkruk clan.

The crowd keeps getting bigger every year with offspring - significant friends and tag-alongs!

I like the way it has become priority to most of us - we commit to catching up on each others lives this week and we do that in various ways...

This is an option (below) but the kayak appears so 'solitary' (even with two seats) it may not fit the formula for raucous fellowship. Ya think?

Still, I promise to call and warn the Coast Guard should curiosity get the better of me.

I don't know. Sunning on a tranquil deck seems like a lot less work.
Fishing. Now there's a vessel more in keeping with company and conversation.

Provided a cooler of libation makes it into the boat before launch of course.

Mark went out to Canadian Tire to buy this sweet sedate little 'prop' for his boat. I have to laugh at how committed the pair of them are to his rediscovered love for fishing.
Every day so far they've received the royal enthusiastic greeting of nieces and nephew when their ship comes to shore.
Aunt Jo's Diner is the annual convergence in one cottage of approximately 50 people for an all morning breakfast. This time around it was held on a mighty frosty morning and everyone understandably lingered till at least noon. Here Britt is taking the opportunity to register her last semester courses at Brock with the assistance of brother Brent. Whatever did we do before WiFi?
The two daughters of brother Mark found a cozy spot on the couch. With at least a dozen littler people underfoot, a large TV showing The Magic Tree house worked its magic alright for the rest of us trying to reconnoitre as we are wont to do on these occasions!
Aunt Jo's Diner typically offers the bacon & egg and sausage fare with just a bit of healthy stuff (yogurt and fresh fruit) thrown in for good measure - recently we combined it with Pauline's Pancake House (formerly held on Friday morning) to round out the menu.

It means a bit of pre-evening prep work and this year that meant my hubby was out on the deck wearing a parka with some froth in a bottle beside him endlessly rotating the chow on an overworked grill. :) Well, shucks. I've been told for years to learn how to delegate more...
At peak times, its standing room only. But we've learned to move over, use the floor and shove a bum with great ease. Small sacrifices for what its worth.
Thankfully, the cutlery is plastic and just a little less threatening for those learning to eat like the big people. Come to think of it - there's a few big people that could use a bib like that.
A well-stocked toy cupboard got the work over just to add to the chaos. Carter carefully guarded his line-up of dinky cars and was rather wary of my attempts to film from the floor boards.
My little peach Danielle pacifies herself with her thumb when the morning nap gets over-extended. Good thing too. She's got quite the set of pipes to let you know otherwise!
So far, we've only made two trips to the local emergency clinic. I think we have to get a grip and realize that we can't keep playing beach volleyball with the teenagers like we used to.
Arriving with her hungry tribe, sister Sue made me laugh out loud when she marched through the door - blurting that she had brought two unannounced guests from her campground and proudly thrust an extra package of bacon into my hands to make provision. Funnier yet - we actually cooked it up and finished that off too!
A vibrant night sky announcing the cold front that made for another nippy evening outdoors for our scheduled traveling euchre tournament. We played with about six teams of four - with the winners of each round being treated to an indoor table. Brrr! This is when a vintage bottle of Ripasso makes for great company!

Pauline and Gerry struggled up the driveway today on the bikes they hijacked from their kids. They decided to bike around the lake for old times sake and found themselves quite lost two hours later. A hospitable cottage owner let them use their facilities and drew them a map to help them with their bearings. We hosted the bedraggled pair for another couple of hours on the far end of the lake before anyone thought to notify the others -- it wouldn't be the first time a worrisome (un)official search party was executed within the ranks here at Chesley...but it's typically NOT for the adult members of our family group.

*sigh* someone always winds up sick too. Poor Julsie, hopefully she's slept off that nasty little flu-bug before it makes inroads to the greater community.
This was a brief afternoon respite from feeling unwell. I think we have a budding artist on our hands. There is nothing so entertaining to Jules than a paintbrush, palette and cup of water!
She's telling me she wants to go down and swim in the water. I'd want to do that too if I was feverish. But I'm not. So too bad. Paints and fruit snacks it'll have to be!
Stay tuned. More to come as the week unfolds.

Inevitable Consequences - The Backstory

Dear Nicole Kristine Pts:

At 23 years of age, you are now two and a half years older than your mother was at the time of her death. There are certain things you should know about her... things that will surely not be easy to hear but definitely need to be told if you are to understand your own history.

First of all, a word about difficult times in our lives:

They serve a purpose. They can make us or break us. We can succumb to them and resign ourselves to living as victims OR we can rise above them, carrying on with a hard won strength. Either outcome will depend largely on perspective and of course, the measure of God's grace is fundamental and impossible to ignore.

Yvonne was not a leader, she was a follower. That in itself is not a crime but it plays a role...

Our parents divorced and as I've already stated, that grief set in motion a whole series of inevitable consequences. Stability and security are the unspoken perhaps unheralded benefits to children when a father chooses to honour his role as family head. Conversely, when a father chooses to abandon his commitment to the mother of his children - the opposite happens.

Yvonne was a tender ten when this travesty occurred in her life and in her quest for affirmation, love and a sense of belonging - she became pregnant too soon by a fellow she scarcely knew --your Dad. Yvonne was also renowned for her simplistic perception of reality and so we found out quite by accident one day that she was already a scandalous 8 months into the pregnancy!

Yes. You read that right. We can't quite believe our own stupidity in the whole matter but worse still, we were all instrumental in pushing through the hasty but disastrous 'solution' of marriage on the spot. You were born a scant three weeks after the fact.

Our new brother-in-law and his family were virtual strangers to us and we discovered too late that most of what we did know, was a facade.

Yvonne knew she had 'made her bed' so to speak and quietly bore the neglect and emotional abuse that would be hers for the next two years.

Looking back? I would like to say this one thing in your father's defense: Too long after the fact, did we stop to wonder if he had lived his adolescent life under great personal duress - we have no other explanation for the extreme volatility of temper.

Clearly, we should have known better and showed greater caution and concern for his well-being - we certainly live with the regrettable consequences.

When, in the subsequent pregnancy and stillbirth of your sister Kimberly (at seven months in the womb) your mom's cancer was diagnosed - your father made it clear that this was more trouble than he bargained for, becoming a mere phantom presence in her palliative care.

True to her innate character, Yvonne steadfastly refused to recognize her fragile state of health and ignored our pleas to prepare for possible death right up to the night before she died.

Hence our desire to see some sort of legal protection over your care and future was denied us and you became the ward of your grandparents -- people who, for reasons still unknown, committed to do everything in their power to 'hide' you from our company and influence.

Indeed, it was many months (if not years! the memory is now so faded) before a family court order restored my mothers' right to see you, the daughter of her deceased daughter.

There was a brief respite from that terrible period of time when your father joined up with a woman named Heidi with whom he fathered a son named Curtis (Stephen?) - your half brother. Heidi proved to be a compassionate and reasonable woman who often facilitated your visits with our family.

Unfortunately, that 'marriage' also ended soon after it began and your paternal grandparents took over your guardianship once again. When you turned twelve, the legal age for you to 'decide' for yourself - a letter arrived on my mom's doorstep informing us of your move to the state of Florida and your desire to discontinue the relationship. The memory is distant and blissfully faded but some of us seem to recall that you also left a message on her phone that you no longer wished to see your grandmother. That was the last we heard or saw of you.

I'm very tired now. This was a tedious and difficult post for me. I want to reiterate one point:

I find no pleasure in airing anyones dirty laundry for all the world to see. You and yours however, have left us with no alternative but to use the public domain to get our side of the story out there. Not one person of your acquaintance/relation has ever bothered to come to our defence or aid with this exception: Your father came to my mom once after your mom died and vowed we did not have to fear losing touch with you. On the fact of that broken promise alone - I rest my case and continue to pursue the truth - plain and simple.

You are loved Nicole - you have a huge family remembering you, praying for you and hoping to meet again someday in this life.

Yvonne Alexandra (Vanderkruk) Pts

In loving memory of our daughter and sister Yvonne.
Yvonne would be 42 today if she were still walking the earth.

In her memory and for the benefit of her posterity, I offer this excerpt from my diary:

June 23, 1989

Today was my sisters birthday.

She'd be twenty-two today.

I was with Mom this morning. All was very well until some flowers were delivered to her door from friends Louie & Nelly.

Then she cried.

She remembered the day her daughter was born -- an easy delivery she said. But not an easy baby because she was sick a lot, and so small...

We both wondered if Brian would even remember today.

Likely not.

For sure her own father won't remember -- unless he's reminded of course....

Much could be said -- much indeed. But I won't remember that today.

Today, I'm going to think about that little girl-woman who fought so hard for life.

Who managed to comfort us yet by assuring us she was finally ready to meet her Maker the very night before His angel came to get her.

How I thank my God forever for just that simple nod of assurance.

How I pray that God will sustain the woman who gave her birth.

How I pray for the little girl Nikki (Nicole) to whom Yvonne gave birth.

Protect her from evil Lord!

There you have it Nicole.

Not exactly glamourous but definitely the real and raw deal.

Time heals many wounds and dulls most of the painful memories but, as I have just discovered in re-reading this diary of mine - they can be brought to the surface with amazing clarity and such little provocation. You need to know that our estrangement from you comprises the most painful circumstance we still bear from the past.

We wish someone, ANYONE! in your acquaintance would find the courage to come clean and explain the how and why of your disappearance and your unwillingness to connect with us.

As it is, we are left with only one option and that is to give you our side of the story in the public domain.

And I am going to do exactly that, as prayerfully as I can manage, in as plain and simple manner as I can muster.

Niggling thoughts...

Do you ever get those?

Stuff that flits through the mind and overstays its welcome?

I'm a believer. Make that capital B, Believer.

It makes these nigglers harder to ignore as I agonize about their source.

Am I being 'compelled' by Spirit or just overwhelmed by wistful thought from a fumbling brain or wounded heart?

I really have no illusions about either of those two organs within, i.e. heart/mind. They've only proven to be a fickle storage place for both the profoundly magnificent as well as the positively messy moments of my life.

Never-the-less, I've decided to go out on a limb against all that may be considered safe and sane disclosure - I'm going public with some of these nigglers.

For reasons I don't even understand right now, I'm going to start with a Father's Day memoir.

I was eighteen, second born in a family of seven kids. Seven is the number of fullness according to scripture....an interesting tidbit to expound another time perhaps? LOL.

I was just back from spending Thanksgiving Weekend in isolation at the hospital where a serious bout of mononucleosis was confirmed. I remember thinking I was going to lose my first semester at university and I did. I actually never went back.

Our family owns and operates a nursery business - something my dad (and his brothers) had just recently taken over following the death of the family patriarch.

Spring and fall were very busy times. We wouldn't see a whole lot of dad during those months and consequently, 'seasonal estrangement' was considered a normal, even acceptable (!) factor in the fabric of family life.

A great deal of time and energy went into expanding the family business - on top of the demanding duties required of husband, father, pillar of the church etc...

To make a long and sordid story short?

My dad succumbed to the snare of the wrong kind of success in the wrong kind of community.

There is a wise saying: The test of prosperity is not easily passed.

One can hear the same panache (only better) in the ancient truth uttered by Jesus, "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God."

And it ain't bulging sacks of gold that make it impossible - what disqualifies us is misplaced allegiance and an entirely wrong focus. Only Grace pulls one through the mire.

Our personal experience(s) testify to the power of this truth.

Misplaced priority. An insatiable desire for acceptance, position and power among the worldly. Call it what you will - my dad fell for it, hook, line and sinker. He threw in the towel on his marriage and joined the party somewhere out there.

Now, if being a father were limited to simply supporting a family financially, or to mere biological brute fact, I suppose you could say I still had a father. But in every other way - we were abandoned and quite bereft.

We didn't see that coming. Indeed, there was no good reason to expect it.

I was home at the beginning of a long recovery process from mono when the castle walls started crumbling and the vantage point in my safe little world changed forever.

I was second born but as the oldest daughter, I became the involuntary confidante overnight.

That is not a complaint necessarily -- my mother had no where else to turn; but it would be many, many years later before I could fully appreciate the horror she must have endured.

My dad grazed and razed greener pastures to the point of no return which led to the inevitable divorce which in turn led to so many other inevitable consequences.

Before I talk about any of those things -- if indeed I find the courage to do so, let me say this:

I love my Dad. I never truly stopped loving him.

Once or twice a year when he drives up to my door,

we sip our coffee or wine :) and I tell him that.

He finally settled down and married one of his girlfriends and our family still doesn't have a meaningful relationship with him in a way that really counts. We've had to accept life with the broken-ness but also in the sure knowledge that it will be made right again, and we accept that it won't be in this earthly life.

Why? *sigh* You had to ask...

Call me a dinosaur. I hold to the biblical concept that marriage is for keeps. I'm one of the odd ones who still believe a vow before the Maker to 'stick with it' in sickness or health, for richer or poorer 'til death parts us, is a vow not to be trifled with.

Look around you. Show me please, where compromise in this matter has ever brought true, soul satisfying happiness to ANY of the parties involved?

Marriage is divinely instituted and like it or not, the First Officiator cannot be mocked.

God has been very merciful and kind to our family.

With the exception of my sister Yvonne, we all enjoy good stable marriages with oodles of kids apiece. We all live near each other and near to our mom who has despite all, learned contentment and continues to live graciously with her circumstances.

We can all say quite honestly that we live far better than we deserve.

So what is my point in sharing this particular 'niggler' ?

This blog is an effort to connect with Nicole Kristine Peters - our long lost grand-daughter, niece and cousin whom we haven't seen or heard from in almost a dozen years due to circumstances beyond our control.

We don't know why that is. But we're going to put ourselves 'out there' in the hopes that she discovers a family (albeit an imperfect one!) who misses her, loves her and remembers her with great longing.

This Father's Day post is a necessary point of reference in disclosing ourselves to you Nicole.

I think you'll understand as the story unfolds itself.

And about imperfection and publicizing them?

Who DOESN'T live with broken-ness in this world?

I share it not to celebrate it, laud it or wallow in it but what a crying shame it would be if we didn't also learn by it and pass those lessons on!

This is a paradox: the beauty of bearing sorrow is the potential for maturity, growth and strength.

Looking back? I am hopeful -- thankful. By God's grace (Who put us on the planet in the first place for good purpose) we are learning to live as ultimate Family.

For all you daddies out there? Listen up. One of the strongest ways to demonstrate your love to your children is simply to love their mother. Do it. No matter what and you will be rewarded in ways immeasurable.

It's a hard sell in this sick and selfish cultural climate of ours but it's not impossible.

God helping us.

Nicole Kristine Pts & her mom

Hi Nicole. It's Father's Day today.

Invariably my mind wanders over to what runs through your mind on such occasions.

And I wonder, do you ever see Brian, your Dad?

Did you ever find out WHY he awarded your grandparents guardianship over you?

One thing I do remember well, the poor man was overwhelmed at the time. It was an awful lot to deal with.

I was browsing through my file of blog pic's and decided to post these two comparing you with your mom. The ancient black and white above is a portrait of the first five kids in my family: Uncle Case has his arms around me and Uncle Rick, your mom is on my lap (what a cute little stinker eh?) and Aunt Pauline is sitting on my left. I love the way my brother Case demonstrates his protective nature with that uber hug of his. I love how we're all looking at the photographer except for your mom - who quite obviously followed some other irresistible distraction.

The second photo shows you standing in front of your mom's sick bed. I think your Uncle Glen or Uncle Gary is standing near you - I don't really know. We do remember them both as reasonable and nice guys. *sigh* It was all so long ago....

As always, we love you Nicole.