The Countdown is On

             I am three and a half weeks away from baby girl #2’s due date.  Pregnancy, at least for me, both times around, has seemed to both fly by and take forever.  At this point, I can see why some people are impatient for their newest addition’s arrival.  I am still holding out hope that this one will follow in Amelia’s footsteps and come on her due date.  No matter when she comes, we will be thrilled and our main hope is a safe and healthy deliver for mommy and baby. 

            Also, at this point, there are many other things at war in my thoughts.  First off, there are a few things we need to get and a few things we need to get done.  If baby girl came today, we could figure it out, but it would be nice to finish up everything ahead of her.

            I’m also nervous about the possibility of being at the elementary school where I work rather than an one of my in-town preschools when something starts happening.  The elementary school is about thirty minutes out of town.  It would be extra-nerve wracking if it was on a day with any winter weather.  Driving in the snow while worrying about contractions is not on my bucket list.

            I know how much Amelia’s life is about to change.  I adore that little girl and while I think a sibling is a wonderful gift to her, I also know that her little sister will bring an entirely new set of challenges.  We will have to learn to share more, not just toys, but also time and attention.  We will have to learn how to be patient and how to interact with someone who is smaller than her, on her turf.  I don’t want to introduce so many more restrictions into her life, so many more “no’s”.  Eventually, they will be best friends; I know we’ll get there; it just won’t be smooth sailing every moment of every day.

            Most of all, I worry about the world we’re bringing her into.  This little girl will be loved.  Loved unconditionally and loved by so many people.  I could not be more grateful for that.  That being said, we will teach her that she is no better than anyone else and no one else is better than her.  We will teach her that love is the answer.  Love should dictate our actions.  People matter more than our stuff.  This little girl will know that she is smart, she is kind, she is important, she is beautiful, and any other epitaphs that work here. 

            Our world, especially over the last week and a half, has not exactly contributed to those values.  We’ve seen hate-filled language, people insisting that they have knowledge and expertise that they do not have, power trips, and people who contradict their own expressions of faith, especially those who claim to value life, but only in one particular situation, when it’s easy and convenient for them.  On top of all of that, we have seen real people hurt, turned away, ignored, robbed of their hopes and treated as though they are less than human.  None of this is ok.  My girls will know that that is not ok. They will know that we cannot stand for it.  That we cannot stand by quietly, that inaction is action, that silence is saying something, that doing nothing is making a choice. 

            I’m going to avoid going off on a tangent here; I could give you books to read, organizations to contribute to, slogans to shout, calls to make, but I will resist….for now.

            Right this second, there are big things happening in our world and in our country.  There are also big things happening (on a much different scale) in my little family.  So, today, I will leave you with hope.  Hope that my littlest girl will make a safe and healthy entrance to this world.  Hope that she and Amelia will grow up in a world where they know they can make a difference, where they know that their parents have done everything they could to make a difference, to improve our world.

Scrabble, Jeopardy and Trivial Pursuit

One week ago today, my family suffered the loss of my Aunt Susan, my mom’s younger sister.  She was the youngest of four sisters.  That’s not all she was, but it does anchor her place in the Gantt family.  While her life was not what she had hoped and that breaks my heart, Susan made a lasting impression.  Many of my cousins and family members have posted things about her on social media over the course of the last week, especially around Friday, as we all gathered to say goodbye and participate in the funeral.  So, this may not be new to you.  This may be an echo of what you’ve already seen about her.  However, here is what I want to record about Susan, what has been on my mind over the last week:

                  If you had been with us at any one of the Gantt family Christmas gatherings, during the years when we could all be together, you probably would have seen children running around, possibly heard someone singing, walked past at least one person asleep in front of the TV (I won’t call anyone out here), seen the remnants of the “letter” gift exchange started a full year prior, on the Christmas before using a Scrabble set, and eaten more than your share of cookies and Chex mix.  You would also have seen a large group of us gathered around the dining room table, playing a game.  It wasn’t always a board game, but it was always a game that brought laughter, competition and my Aunt Susan was always in the middle of it.  She was an avid game player when we were around and was remarkably good at them.  I could have written this in “Jeopardy” format to honor both her trivia knowledge and affinity for games, but I wasn’t quite so clever this time around. 

                  Right now, we still feel an overwhelming grief; we’re grieving and that’s ok; that’s what we are supposed to do with our sadness right now. It looks different for each of us.  But, I will tell you, as so many others will second; Susan herself is not a part of that grief.  Susan can echo Beth’s words from Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women (from one reader to another, I had to make some sort of literary allusion) when she said, “Now I’m the one going ahead.”  We can all be confident that Susan is no longer worrying about the next step in her treatment, is no longer in pain and is celebrating with Grandmother and Papa in heaven, maybe reading a good book (maybe she’s even getting a sneak peek into Patrick Rothfuss’s as yet unwritten book) or beating them at a board game. 

                  Since Susan is the closest sister in age to my mother, Robin, I’ve grown up hearing stories about the two of them as children.  As you would expect and I will soon learn first-hand, with two sisters only two years apart, the stories range from sweet memories to memories that might fall into a different category.  You’ll have to ask my Mom if she’ll show you the face that she used to make to scare Susan.  But even so, they played beauty contest together and practiced songs, complete with choreography from their favorite musicals as children. 

Susan followed Mom to Carson Newman College in Jefferson City, TN where she completed her undergraduate studies and later in life, struck out on her own to obtain both her Master’s degree and Doctorate degree from Southern Seminary in Louisville, KY.  These accomplishments give you an idea of the value that Susan always placed on education.  She was the daughter of two people who worked incredibly hard during their lives, but were never able to go to college.  Susan was able to earn not only her Master’s but also her Doctorate.  I have immense respect for education.

When I was a child, Susan was generally around whenever Kyle, Charity and I were together in the Gantt household.  She would take us to run relay races, to the movies, to a playground or tell us that we were passing into different countries each time we drove through a traffic light (oh, now we’re in Argentina, next stop Germany, she’d say, as we drove around Spartanburg).   Susan invested in us as children and as adults.  Over the past couple of years, we’ve spent a good bit of what little time we had together talking about books.  That shared love of reading was always a tie between us. I can honestly say that I am grateful for the years we all had together and for the lasting marks she left in my life.

                  Susan Gantt’s memory will live on in her three sisters, three brothers-in-law, seven nieces and nephews, and their spouses and children.  Being pregnant and experiencing the loss of a loved one does have a unique feel.  My own grief is magnified through the lens of knowing that my second baby girl will not get to meet this aunt.  It’s a strange feeling and sadly, one that I’ve experienced before.  This loss is not about me and I know that, although I am sad for both my daughters.  The Gantt family will continue; the legacy is there, but it will always be a little different.  For that matter, Scrabble, Jeopardy and Trivial Pursuit will also always be a little different…

"Everything's Magical When it Snows, Everything Looks Pretty"

Like virtually my entire social media news feed, we got some snow last night.  Yes, I live in the mountains, but also yes, I live in the south.  So, we like to think we know what to do with snow, but as southern mountaineers, people from other places may scoff when they actually see it.  This time we got over six inches; it may have been closer to seven or eight by the time the flakes stopped falling this morning.  Regardless, it's a pretty snow. For us, this is a real snow.  The first real snow of this season.  You could practically hear the cheers from the ski slopes, even in spite of the bitter wind and frigid temperatures.

Lorelai Gilmore, the main character on "Gilmore Girls," insisted that she could smell snow.  Lorelai is one of the characters that I naively think would be a very dear friend, if a few things were different; mainly, if she were real and I lived in Stars Hollow.  Anyway, first snows always remind me of her.  She's right; the world changes with that blanket of white.  Snow does make everything look magical; look clean, look bright, look new.  However, that cold also carries a bite.  The beauty of it is deceivingly dangerous, in so many ways.

This particular first snow felt like a true first snow for Amelia.  We are running out of these moments for her; she's getting to the age where firsts are becoming fewer and farther apart.  At two years old (and seven months), she is getting to the point where she remembers more and more.  For those of you who know Amelia, you know how true that is for her specifically.  This child hardly every forgets.  Her memory continually surprises me.  Christmas did have a novel feel though; she was still overjoyed and surprised with each new thing we did this year.  Each moment brought some toddler magic.  Today was another window into that wonder.

There is an unbelievable amount of change coming for my family, most of the time right now, it feels like it's barreling toward us.  I'm still processing a good bit; and not ready to share it all, but it's coming.  Today, though, got to be about Amelia.  We relished being "snowed in."  We stayed at home all day, played together and played in the snow.

Since I'm over eight months pregnant, sadly, I couldn't sled today, but that didn't stop Adam and Amelia.  She could barely stand still as I got her dressed to go out and never hesitated for a moment. You could see how beautiful it looked to her; how magical.  She walked through the snow, she made snow angels, she rode on the sled, she declared that snow angels were all over her.  The outing didn't last terribly long since it (and is) horribly cold and windy, but that short period of time was enough to make her small backyard world something new, exciting and different.

Every time this happens, I am reminded of how lucky we are to have those moments and how lucky we are to witness those moments in her.  Amelia is growing up so quickly; I know that one day that magic will change.  The change is inevitable.  But, it doesn't have to disappear.  I hope that 2017 can be a year of magic for all of us.  No, nothing will be perfect.  Yes, there will be more loss, more pain, more sadness, more frustration, more inequalities.  I also know that we are the ones that can fight against that and fight we must.

In spite of all of that, don't miss out on snow days.  Don't forget what it was like to see something as if for the first time.  Know where you've been, but also where you're going.  Don't shrug off an opportunity to see the world as a toddler does; to see it as it could be, to see it as new, as pretty, as magical.