The Marvelous, Musical Miss Cicelske

A little over a year ago, my son Ben casually mentioned that he'd been seeing someone for a couple of months and would it be okay if he brought her over for dinner. You know how it is with moms and their kids--we can usually read them pretty well. I was immediately on high alert; there was something in his manner and in his voice that made me think this might not just be "someone" but "SOMEONE." When they came to dinner and we met Becca for the first time and watched the two of them together, my inkling about her grew stronger. Here we are many dinners and many months later, and Ben and Becca are engaged; in just a few months, Becca Cicelske will become Becca Wendell.

But before that happens, let me tell you a little about Becca Rae Cicelske. For nine years, she has been Miss Cicelske, the dedicated, hard-working, jack-of-all-trades music teacher at Northern Chautauqua Catholic School. In just a few days, she will start a brand new job as the band director for grades 5-12 at Chautauqua Lake Central School. She also plays the euphonium (which, I admit, I had to google to make sure I knew just what it was) and the ukulele (this one I knew since my mom is a long-time ukulele player!). She also sings, directs musicals, arranges music, and actually hears music differently than the average person (or at least differently than this average person). So that's the musical part of Miss Cicelske.

The marvelous part is revealed in more ways than I can name in a short blog post, but at the top of the list is the way she cares for people: her family (including her beloved nieces and nephews), her students, her friends, and especially Ben. She "gets" Ben. She understands who he is, what he wants, what he needs. Like many introverted people, she is a watcher, a noticer, and in the sixteen months she's known Ben, she has seen things him that have surprised even me. She's also a good listener, an encourager, a person who seems to know what people need before they ask. She's an excellent game player. She loves Ben's dog, Zeke, and is so good with him that we call her the dog whisperer. And to top it all off: she loves mint chocolate chip ice cream and the Buffalo Bills!

When Becca got the job at Chautauqua Lake, I was so thankful: being a 5-12 band director is her dream job; but I was also thinking how great it was for them: I knew they'd gotten a gem. When Ben proposed to Becca, I was so thankful: Becca is the girl of his dreams and I knew how happy they make each other; but I was also thinking how great it is for us: our family has gotten another gem. Welcome to the family, Becca!

Advice to My Son

To my sweet boy,

One month from tomorrow is your wedding day, and my heart is already brimming with emotion. I think maybe parents of grown-up children all share a strange ability: when they look at their child, they see not only the current, full-grown person that child has become but also every single version of that child—from baby to toddler to child to teen to young adult. My mind is flooded with memories of the boy you were and visions of the husband you are about to become. Because I can’t get you out of my mind, I thought I’d take this opportunity to offer you some advice on marriage. I’m not sure you really need advice from me—but when has that ever stopped me?!

1.    I remember a hot summer day when you were helping me in the yard by hauling weeds to the compost pile as I was gardening. You disappeared into the house for a while, and when you returned, you had two Tupperware cups filled with lemonade. You smiled and said, “I thought this might hit the spot.” So my first piece of advice is this: Take lemonade to Emma. Surprise her with your thoughtfulness. Show her in unexpected ways that you are thinking about her and noticing what she needs.

2.    Another memory from much later on: you, Em, and I went sledding late at night on hill behind Eagle Street school. We were having a lot of fun until I bounced off my saucer and hit my head hard on the packed snow. You were beside me in seconds, helping me up, retrieving my sled, walking me home, and checking my pupils. So that’s my second bit of advice: Always watch out for Emma’s safety and well-being. Take care of her. Protect her. Cherish her. 

3.    I still have several of the notes you left me over the years of your childhood tucked away in my dresser drawer, and I know from a snap or two Emma has sent, that you’ve carried on your note-leaving tradition with her. Keep it up! Keep leaving her sweet notes.

4.    Recently you were telling me about putting together the hammock you got as a shower gift. You were saying how much you love it, how nice it is, how you plan to take care of it and bring it in when it rains. Then you said, “At least for the first year. After that, it’ll probably be like everything else; we’ll forget and it’ll get rained on.” While that is so true for things like hammocks and so many other possessions, don’t let it be true for your marriage. Protect it like the treasure it is. Don’t take it for granted. Don’t ever stop taking care of it.

5.    This is getting long, and I know you are no fan of lengthy posts, so the rest I will put in short bullets:

·      On snowy mornings, clean off her car windows.

·      When she looks nice, notice. Then tell her. 

·      Keep making her laugh.

·      Make sure she knows that you will always take her side and be in her corner.

·      When she’s having a bad day, find a way to make it better.

·      Be as cheerful as possible as often as possible.

·      When you mess up, admit it and apologize.

·      In the long run, the little moments in a marriage matter as much or more than the big ones. So value the everydayness of your life together.

·      Be careful in arguments not to say things you can’t take back, things that will hurt—even if they are true (and especially if they are not true).

·      Working hard is important and having money makes life easier, but making a life is more important than making a living. 

·      Never, ever, ever give up on the relationship even if the going gets tough (and it will). Hang in there and fight for your happy ending.

·      Hold her hand, touch her shoulder—stay connected in big and small ways.

·      Treasure her: make sure she knows you value her, admire her, and appreciate her.

·      Tell her you love her—often.

I’m sure there are other things I could or should add. But as I said before, I think you already know how to be a good husband—just keep being the kind, loving, funny, thoughtful, protective person you’ve always been. And if you ever need advice (or anything at all), you know where to find me . . . 

We Got Her

Emma and Darton, 2012

In June of 2012, we met our son in Buffalo to pick up the family Honda he'd been driving but was now passing along to his sister. Since he had to bring two cars to Buffalo, he enlisted the help of a friend, a girl from Roberts Wesleyan named Emma. She was pretty, friendly, and polite. She was wearing white pants and very cute sandals. And there was an ease between the two of them that I liked. Although our meeting was brief on that sunny day in June, a couple of months later when we found out they were dating, we were delighted but not surprised! And the more we got to know Emma, the more we liked her.

Fast forward five-and-a-half years. Darton and Emma are still together. Emma is still pretty, friendly, and polite. There's still a lovely, just-right ease between the two of them. And Emma's shoe game remains consistently strong! I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that with every single visit, we love her more. In fact a couple of years ago, our other son said, "If they ever break up, we're just going to have to adopt Emma."

A week before Christmas we got the phone call we'd been waiting for. Darton had just proposed to his sweet Emma. None of us could stop smiling.

In the days after that happy phone call, I kept thinking of a chapter title in the book Sahara Special, by Esme Raji Codell, called "We Got Her." At the beginning of the chapter, the students in an ordinary fifth-grade classroom are waiting to meet their brand-new teacher, Madame Poitier (Miss Pointy). As the story unfolds, the students realize that as far as teachers go, they have hit the jackpot. Miss Pointy is a teacher like no other. She's the teacher they've been waiting for, the teacher who will forever change their lives. We feel the way those fictional fifth graders felt. As far as (future) daughters-in-law/sisters-in-law go, we have hit the jackpot. Emma is a girl like no other. She's the girl we've been praying for, the girl who will forever change our family. We Got Her. We Got Her. We Got Emma!

Emma and Darton, 2017

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Emily Krauza?

"A son is a son until he takes a wife, but a daughter's a daughter all of her life."

The first time I heard this saying was on an episode of That Girl when Mrs. Hollinger was bemoaning the idea of losing her beloved son Donald to That Girl, Ann Marie. I wondered then (and I wonder now) how much, if any, truth there was to it. As the mom of two boys, I'm hoping not much. But as the mom of a newly-married daughter, I'm clinging pretty hard to the second part these days. Em and Tuck had been together for nearly eight years when they got married in August, so we were pretty used to them as a couple, but I was aware, if not quite prepared, for the reality that married is different than dating. The first big adjustment came right away--the week of their honeymoon. In the months, weeks, and days leading up to the wedding, I probably talked more with Em than I had since the days she and I were home together before she started school. But when the newlyweds pulled out of our driveway on August 21st, things went from famine to feast in a hurry. Of course, that's exactly as it should be, but that doesn't mean I wasn't feeling the withdrawal. As the week progressed, I knew I had to stick to the rules I set for myself when each of the kids left for college: let them initiate the texting or calling, and even then, keep my replies short. A new school year started for me on the Monday after the wedding, so I kept pretty busy with that and with sorting through the mountain of leftover wedding china and decorations. But keeping busy isn't the same thing as being happy, and I'll admit it was kind of a tough week for Steve and me--we were missing our girl. But we got through its and contact with the honeymooners has long-since been restored: we get texts, calls, and even snapchats pretty regularly. So things have more or less returned to normal. But not exactly. Although, according to the saying, Em will be our daughter all of her life, she's no longer just our daughter, Emily Wendell; she is now Tucker's wife, Emily Krauza. And it's a lot more than just a name change (though even that is going to take some getting used to!). The landscape has been subtly rearranged, the boundaries have shifted. And I need to respect the new lines, to step back a bit. I know that from now on, when some happy thing or some sad thing or really any big thing happens, Tuck will be--and should be--Em's first call, her first listener. And although I thought I'd come to terms with this before, I need to face up to the truth that Em's old room (and Ben's and Darton's) is just that: her old room. She has a new home and a new life with Tucker that is separate from our home and our life. And not only that, she has a new extended family now too. So I need to do what I've been trying to do all along with this blog: loosen my grip on my kids and on the past, as I work through the changes and try, once again, to find my equilibrium in this ever-changing life.

Photo by Nicole Mason