I used to think in my early twenties that I would either make a go of the world, let go of my black and white, get elbow deep into the muck of the world, or move to Vermont...

I used to think in my early twenties that I would either make a go of the world, let go of my black and white, good vs. bad thinking, get elbow deep into the muck of the world, or move to Vermont... read more here
There’s Just Something About Valentines and Ashes

There’s Just Something About Valentines and Ashes

This Valentine’s Day, this Ash Wednesday, over tired from being up too late the night before, and overwhelmed with many little and big things, my heart broke open.

I had lain down on the couch to close my eyes for a few minutes early this morning, something I never do before the kids get on the bus, my preschooler wasn’t even dressed yet… I just needed to stop for a minute.

While laying there, eyes closed, my 3 year old sidled up next to my overwhelmed heart, sucking his thumb and snuggling into every curve… and I remembered.  I remembered two decades ago when I was 22 laying on the couch just like this with my own mother, right after we found out about her stage 4 cancer diagnosis and with the declaration of “6 months” just hanging in the air. I remember crying and crying such ugly desperate tears holding on to my mom like she was my air and feeling like the wind was cruelly blowing her away.

And this morning exhausted and curled on the couch with my 3 year old, quiet tears stream down my face and in my heart I yell at God for taking her away from me, this woman that loved me so so purely and that I felt so at home with.

And yet and yet as much as I ache for my mother and lament the 19 years she has been gone, I trust that there is more. More than this ache, more than death, more than ashes.

After the tears I feel a little better and am able to get up, usher little ones dressed, hugged, and kissed onto the school bus. I take a shower and then at the request of the 3 year old begin to build an animal puzzle with him.

I continue.

It is what we are called to do, and when we do, we see that beyond our sorrow there is more than sorrow. We see that there is resurrection in our ashes and redemption in our love.

Happy Valentine’s Day and Ash Wednesday friends.

With love from Vermont,


The Periodic Table and Putting the Elements Together

The Periodic Table and Putting the Elements Together

It has been quite a month here in our little part of Vermont.  Our family has been grieving and stepping forward ever so gingerly since my father-in-laws unexpected passing on New Year’s Day.  This is not my story to share, but I can say that I love my father-in-law very much and miss him dearly.

I have been trying so hard this month to love the people closest to me well.  Sometimes that means to pray and give space to heal and process in their own way or to do small things for them.

One small thing I did for the boys was to print the Periodic Table on fabric and sew it together to hang in our living room.  The older boys have really been interested in chemistry lately, and there has been lots and lots of talk about the Periodic Table, so I thought they would get a kick out of seeing it up on our wall.  Hearing them talk so excitedly about the elements makes me smile.

I haven’t thought about the Periodic Table much at all since I memorized it (briefly) in 8th grade, but lately it seems to be a regular part of our lives in conversation.  It brings such order to the universe doesn’t it?  Thinking about the peace that order can bring has reminded me of my faith and the peace that it also brings.

A couple of days ago I came across the text for a talk I gave last September for a Catholic mothers group called Alo that I am helping lead this year.  I wrote it on my mom’s birthday.   It is about my life and how I came to faith, the faith I am clinging to fiercely right now.  And because it is my story, this is a story I can share.  I have included the text from that talk below…

This has been a crazy week!  Anyone else?  

Well, to top it off, my husband walks in last night calmly apologizing for his ripped pants.  With my husband, you know to start to panic when he is calm because his go to is to remain calm in any storm…  He goes on to tell me that he jumped a white picket fence and didn’t quite make it over it while leaving to come home from one of the boys cross country meets…  

So I have him turn around so I can look at the rip and there is a big tear in his pants and it is covered in blood.  I whisked him upstairs so I could take a look at the damage, and I’ll tell you there is a very good reason I never became a nurse!  I do not like blood.  The cut was high up on the back of his thigh and after taking a quick look I was pretty sure he needed stitches.  So I took some deep breathes and bandaged it up for him.  

Then he dropped two of the boys off at their boy scout meeting and headed over to Fanny Allen to get his leg checked out.  He wandered back in by 9:30 with 4 stitches, my oldest son was sitting at the table finishing homework and thankfully the other 6 boys were asleep by then.  I stayed up for a little while to hear about how it all went and then made it off to bed, just thinking of his gash makes me cringe…

Well someone who could have handled my husbands’ injury perfectly would have been my mother.  She was an OR Nurse for twenty years and then a school nurse for 10 and this past Tuesday was her birthday.  I spent the morning of her birthday cleaning and being with kids as usual and didn’t remember what day it was till about 2 in the afternoon when I turned on my computer to start writing this talk and noticed the date splashed across my home screen.  My mom would have turned 74 this year, she died at 55, only ten years older than I am now.  Next year it will be 20 years that she has been gone and to me that is just incomprehensible.

She was a great mother.

My beautiful, vibrant, funny, down to earth mum made the most of her days here on earth, smiling with mischief in her eyes and lifting up and loving those who needed it.

And I knew after she died, that somehow I would try to live like that too.

I was 27 then.  Old enough to be called an adult, yet young enough to still need my mom.  I didn’t know how I could keep going in this world without her.  I had hobbled along after my teens, “finding myself” in college by letting go of any glimmers of faith in God I may have had and instead deciding to have faith in “me”.  I grew up Catholic, but never really understood having a relationship with Jesus,  least of all his mother Mary, and those Saints I had seen statues of and heard people ask to help them when they needed to find their car keys or sell a house, well I breezily wrote them off as “perfect people” and nothing like me, at best, or superstitious folk tales at worst.

I had absorbed notions about sin growing up Catholic in the 70’s and early 80’s during a time where the echoing refrain I heard in my catechism classes (or ccd as we called them in Massachusetts) was that God is love (but what it meant for God to be love either flew over my head or was never explained).  I thought sin sounded depressing and the thought of myself as a sinner or something negative just really didn’t appeal to me or seem to fit with the messages of the culture I was growing up in.  I knew I wasn’t perfect, but thinking about my imperfections seemed futile, what was I gonna do about it?  So I opted instead for an inner dialogue that boosted me up and talked myself out of the mistakes I made or personal flaws I might have had.

So that is where I was at 27 when my mother died after 4 years with cancer,  and I was still there at 28 when I got engaged to my husband and at 29 when we got married and by the time I hit 30 when we had our first son my methods began to really break down…

Basically through this inner dialogue of boosting up my self worth, I had talked myself into believing for all intents and purposes that I was always right and that my opinions needed to be voiced always because they were MY opinions and MY feelings about things were the MOST important issue in any argument.

You can see where this is going… it did not work out well, it made me ashamed when I would push my husband by saying the worst biting things I could think of and while he is a generally calm person, just like most of us when pushed to our limits he would lash back.  I was ashamed by my lack of patience with my young son, and though a devoted friend I was also quite demanding with my friends when things didn’t go my way or bitter when I felt slighted.  And I felt a lot of anxiety at this time in my life wanting to control everything.  I can see now that part of that was from knowing that if my mother, my beautiful mother could die, well then anything could happen in this world.

But beyond the anxiety, I couldn’t square the good parts of me that were true and beautiful, with the ugly.  If I were really so wonderful, why was I also so horrible?  and were my poor actions really always someone else’s fault?

At 31 we had our 2nd son and at 33 became pregnant with our third and 5 months before he was born we moved from my home state of Massachusetts, here to Vermont leaving all of my family and friends and moved in with my husbands’ parents till we could get settled.  

There are a lot of things that happened in the past 12 years to bring me to where I am today.  Too much to put into a twenty minute talk, but I can tell you, that I was brought to my knees and the only way up was to start praying.

And so that is what I did.

Like a runner training for a marathon, I did a little each day, and then a little more each day, and then more.  Praying in those early years felt exhausting, it was hard to always turn your mind to God.  But bit by bit I got used to turning to prayer even when sock commercials seemed more exciting than taking time to talk with and listen to God.

I knew God was my father at that point, but I had a lot to learn about Jesus his son… the holy spirit, and Jesus’ mother…

I remember sitting in a meeting for parents before my oldest sons’ First Communion.  The Director of Religious Education was talking to all us parents about what was coming up that year and she said “And of course you know that we as Catholics believe that Jesus is really and truly present in the Eucharist.”  I nearly spit out my coffee.  Did we really believe that?!  I was shocked.  How did that get past me?  I had somehow convinced myself that people really didn’t believe that anymore.

Another time we decided to attend a Reconcilliation Service During Lent, I hadn’t been to confession in about 20 years at that point.  A few of my sons were old enough to go in to confess and I felt like to be a good parent, I should go in and do it too.  I remember Father Lavalle saying if you didn’t know what to say and you hadn’t gone to reconcilliation in a while to just say “Our Lady” sent me.  That sounded too silly and embarrassing to me at the time, so I didn’t say it.  But I did confess whatever I could think of, and felt awkward.  

It was later that I really started to appreciate Reconcilliation and the graces that come from it and how in acknowledging my sins and having them forgiven I could receive the grace to become new.  Those new beginnings became a life line as a mother.  They drew me closer to Jesus and his mercy.  And looking back now I can see that it probably was Mary that sent me after all. 

I began imperfectly praying the rosary, as best as I knew, 1 decade a night, 5 decades a night, 3 hail Mary’s a night, and then I added in the mysteries of Jesus’ life to meditate on with each Hail Mary once I learned about that part!  There were lots of starts and stops that grew my faith during those years…I read the bible, learned about all sorts of saints and their real and amazing lives, and I kept knocking at God’s door.  And he kept opening it to show me around room after room.

I woke up each morning, tended to children, was a wife, a friend.  I learned to hear the whispers Jesus placed on my heart while walking out on the little trail around our house while babies slept, or during my morning shower, when I would ask him for help, thank him, and pray for my family and friends.  

I cannot even fathom what kind of mom today I would be to my first son, had God not entered the equation, never mind being mom to the other 6 sons I am mother to or if I would have trusted him enough to have had them in the first place.  Or where my marriage would be or would not be.  

I have more peace in my heart than I have ever had.  

I have learned that I do not have to be the best to be loved, that there is so much more to life when you let your you take a rest and let God’s will take the lead.

I have learned that I can trust in God’s plans for my life and let go of control, by simply saying yes, and then moving forward.  Like volunteering to help lead Alo this year. 

Success is wonderful, we all like it, but I’ve learned that more than accomplishments, what Jesus wants is a willing heart, for us to step out in faith to do the things that scare us or even sometimes things that make us feel overwhelmed. 

Jesus is helping me make the most of my days here on earth, and lifting up and loving those who need it.  

Happy Birthday Mom!  

And I look forward to growing in faith with you all this year!!

Thank you to everyone who got this far and took the time to read this story of the evolution of my faith.

All the elements of our lives matter, the dark and the ugly, the good, and even the holy.  Let’s hang them up, learn from them, grow from them, and smile with love as we share our joys with each other.

With love from Vermont,



Plumbing Pipe Table – A Table for Twelve!

Plumbing Pipe Table – A Table for Twelve!

I am pretty impatient when it comes to projects.  So this summers table project is like a miracle of perseverance…  It all started 4 years ago as serendipity would have it, when out of the corner of my eyes I saw something moving out the window and watched as one of our very tall andContinue Reading

New every morning.

New every morning.

This summer living in our house are 2 adults, 2 teens, 2 tweens, 1 elementary schooler, 1 preschooler, and a toddler.  Can you see how many different “agendas” that might create? Yeah half way through summer I am laying to rest my quest for balance.  As much as I have striven for it, life isContinue Reading

Choosing Each Other.

Choosing Each Other.

I often think, when I see Jesus on the cross, about the pain of Mary… Why didn’t God just come into the world alone?  Why did he use one of us?  He could have redeemed us from this often difficult world all by himself without pain and a mum, but he didn’t… He knew thatContinue Reading

The Sun Peaks Through – A Wedding and a Funeral

The Sun Peaks Through – A Wedding and a Funeral

Life was so divinely orchestrated yesterday, I felt like I was a character in a movie.  First I attended the funeral of a good friend who at 76 passed away last week.  She shared my love of Jesus, was a model of childlike faith, perseverance, and how to be a loving spouse and mother. IContinue Reading

Life… It’s an Act of Faith & Love

Life… It’s an Act of Faith & Love

So I sent six of my children off to school this morning on faith…  Yesterday, unfortunately like in so many places on different days in our world, our high school and many surrounding schools in town were in lockdown because of threats of violence at our very large high school.  My oldest son spent theContinue Reading

From Ash Wednesday to Palm Sunday, VT Maple Sugaring 2017

From Ash Wednesday to Palm Sunday, VT Maple Sugaring 2017

Our maple sugaring season here in Vermont tends to overlap some with Lent each year.  This year it happened to coincide perfectly.  We missed one run of sap in late February, our trees weren’t tapped as we had too many other things on our plate to get them in by then.  But by Ash WednesdayContinue Reading

My Mother’s Blue Eyes

I haven’t really thought about the light blue of my mother’s eyes since I last saw them 18 years ago.  Closer to my memory is the sound of her laugh, the harmony of our voices singing in alto side by side in our pew at Mass.  I often feel like I hear her now whenContinue Reading

Mom, the Pats Won the World Series

Mom, the Pats Won the World Series

Ummm and yes that was my title till my lovely husband corrected me.  Ha ha!  Properly humbled. Hi Mom, I thought it might be a good idea to write down some of the stuff we were talking about this morning.  Well the biggest thing of course is that the Patriots won the Super Bowl lastContinue Reading

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