Island of perfect joy

There were very big expectations for this little girl. Her name literally means "island of perfect joy." But no worries...she has delivered.

Our Isla Bliss turns five this week. She is a beautiful, joyful girl. She loves her family and she really loves her puppy, whom she calls "Buddy". She likes to draw, she likes story time, she likes to make us laugh. She is a constant reminder of how precious this time in life is.

In honor of her fifth birthday, here's five lovely things about our baby.

1. She plans to be a rockstar, and she is indeed quite entertaining. But I often think she'd be an awesome nurse. Maybe it the way she can assess a situation and take it upon herself to get it done. I've never known a more independent preschooler, though to be honest, I've only REALLY spent time with three preschoolers, so I may be an undereducated judge. All I know is she's been dressing herself for what seems like years, and for that I'm thankful.

2. Despite this independence, she still happily calls herself my "Big Baby." I'm planning on this continuing for several decades at least.

3. She asks a lot of questions about God and heaven. Even better she has all the important answers, like, "If we hurt someone's feelings and say we're sorry, God still loves us."

4. She thinks her brother and sister are great, and she's the first to give them complements after concerts or other performances. I find this incredibly thoughtful.

5. She's enjoyed a charmed life, with four of us to shower her with attention. But she's returned this grace 100 fold. We all laugh more often and smile a little bigger when she's around. Is she spoiled? Yes. But I haven't figured out how to stop yet. Hopefully, I will before I ruin her.

Five is a magical age. The world is still a place of wonder. Childlike behavior still rules. Yet, as a parent, I can start to see the type of person she will grow into. That is what makes five so exciting. I'm certainly in no hurry for her to grow up, but it is bound to happen, and I just know I'm going to love who she becomes.

A lovely man...

This week, I will say goodbye to someone who I truly treasured. My husband's Uncle Jim has passed away unexpectedly. I find myself wanting to tell everyone what a wonderful man he was, and thankfully, I'm finding that I must have shared that sentiment with many friends over the years, because when I share the sad news, they respond with clear knowledge of who Jim was and how much we cared for him.

Early in our marriage, my husband and I moved to NY. It was exciting, but a little scary too. Though we had married more than six months earlier, it was the move that made me feel like a real grown up. I was moving away from everything familiar.

But we weren't alone out on the East Coast, and that was clear from the very first weekend. We drove our U-Haul to Uncle Jim's in Hamilton Township, NJ--next door to beautiful Trenton. Uncle Jim was my husband maternal uncle. We arrived on what was my college graduation day, back in Vermillion, SD. In order to make it to NY in time to sign our lease and keep the loft space Nathan had found earlier in the month, we had to leave before graduation day. I was disappointed by the timing, but mature enough to get over it in all the ways that mattered.

Jim knew I was missing my graduation day, and he made a point to take us out for dinner to celebrate. I'm fairly certain there was even a toast. I found this incredibly thoughtful, but as I would come to learn over the years, that was just who Jim was. He celebrated others' accomplishments, recognized hard work, and enjoyed spoiling his nephews and nieces (even those of us who he gained via marriage). And man, he was so good at it.

Jim's home became our favorite getaway during our years in NY. He and his girlfriend Cathy welcomed us and gave us a place of peace and relaxation. He made us feel safe by giving us an escape in the days after 9/11. He did these things quietly, asking for nothing in return,  and I now regret not making a point to tell him what it meant to have a place to recharge when life in the city exhausted me.

Jim and I shared a great love of food, and so many of my favorites were introduced to me by Jim. He taught Nathan and I about French pressed coffee. He taught us that rum and Cokes tasted better with a wedge of lime. He taught us that stinky cheese meant great taste. His hosting skills were so superior that he managed to spoil and treat you even when he was supposed to be the guest. Every Christmas, Jim shared salamis and sausages, cheeses and pecans, coffee and chocolates. Every year was another chance to spoil all of us.

A few years ago, Nathan, Jim and I were a team for a family grilled cheese contest.
The team was clearly stacked, but we won. 

The past week I've spent time thinking what it must have been like for my mother-in-law to have a brother like Jim to serve as an example for her children. I have a pretty good idea, because I saw how he was with his great nieces and nephews. He was invested and interested in them. He thought they were as cute and funny and smart as their parents think they are. He was giving. He was so, so smart. He lived to his full potential. He was a great friend and partner. He was the best uncle.

All children deserve an Uncle Jim...