A Year of Grief

A Year of Grief

One year ago today, a child we have loved since he was six ended his own life at seventeen. As his mother said, “The year went so fast, but the days seemed endless.”

We first met William when his mother left us a message while we were at work. “This is your neighbor. This is a call no parent wants to make. My son broke your window.” He was six at the time, a beautiful little boy with huge eyes. She ended the call with, “His father will bring him over on Saturday to apologize. Be tough on him.

I started laughing. Sure. Be tough? On a six-year-old?

However, on Saturday morning, he and his dad arrived. He apologized, and Larry and I managed to keep straight faces—barely. He was truly contrite. Thus began our relationship with his family, which eventually grew to six children.

In December, we asked their mother if we could “rent” the kids to help finish decorating our tree since I had run out of steam. There were only five at the time, but their cousin came, too. They trooped over, put the ornaments here, there, and everywhere, and I loved it!

When the tree was complete, they decorated the sugar cookies I had baked ahead of time with icing and lots of sprinkles. Of course, they had more inside them than the finished ones. And sprinkles covered every surface. They each had a small plate on which to put the three cookies they wanted to take home with them. I used the rest to serve my guests throughout the holiday season.

Bridget, their cousin, William, Wyatt, Audrey, Claire

The tradition continued through 2019. Last year, we had to cancel, not just because of Covid, but also because one precious child was missing.

I always considered William the most sensitive of the children. That first year, I told them each ornament on the tree had a story. (There are no “generic” ones.) William was the one who would bring me an ornament and ask me to tell him its story. This year, his younger brother, Wyatt, channeled William, asking about specific decorations.

Wyatt always hunted for two specific ornaments: a ceramic surfboard and a tiny wooden sailboat. (When I mentioned this, he described them both without any hints. He shared that memory with me.) Once he’d located them, he always stopped hanging anything else on the tree and sat on the sofa playing with them. (This year, he kept adding decorations to the tree, but he still set “his” ornaments aside.)

We told him he could choose one of the two to take home with him, but Larry added, “You need to leave one so you’ll return next year.” He decided to leave them both so he could hunt for them again.

The oldest child, Claire, always corralled the younger ones and kept them at it. She joined our critique group when she was ten! She was a terrific writer, even as a little girl. And she became one of our best critics. She published her first novel at sixteen. She is now a sophomore at the University of Notre Dame—on a scholarship.

Audrey, the next eldest after William, is my “angel girl.” She shares my love for angels. She is a sophomore in high school and was too busy to join us this year, but I sent home a couple of big angels for her.

Bridget, who is now in eighth grade, was the “messy” one. She was impulsive and demanding and so much fun. She was also independent and opinionated, and I must admit, I really liked those qualities. Now, she is kind and thoughtful and creative and deliberate. Yep, she is growing up, and it makes me a bit sad.

Wyatt has also grown up. His first year, he broke one ornament (to his mother’s chagrin) and spilled his hot cocoa. I didn’t care. I so loved having them there—and I still do.

The youngest, Sydney, who is now six, was only old enough to come starting in 2019. She, too, is growing up. She is creative and neat and enthusiastic.

Thank goodness we were able to have them again on Tuesday to help with the tree and cookies. Once again, they each got a mug of hot cocoa with five miniature marshmallows. And they each left with an ornament from my collection. Quite a few others already decorate their tree.

Lorna, Bridget, Sydney, Wyatt, and Larry

It wasn’t quite the same, and it never will be again. We will always miss sweet, dear William. But I am so grateful to their parents for sharing them with us through the years.

Christmas has now officially arrived in our home. 

The Northern Girls

When I was in seventh grade, Northern Tissue began advertisements using the Northern Girl (later called American Beauties) illustrations by Frances Hooks. I adored these pictures, and when the prints became available, I bought a set. I think they were $1 for all five.

I had no idea what I’d do with them, but when Kim was born, I figured I had the perfect place for them—especially when the baby looked so much like my own baby.

Now this was in 1967, when DIY wasn’t even heard of. Most of my friends with new babies filled their rooms with new furniture and decorations. We couldn’t afford new.

Larry’s folks gave us a changing table as a baby gift.

We bought a well-used crib. I found an old Edison in a thrift store after reading in Consumer Reports that it was the best brand. But it was brown. We found a Kant-wet mattress on closeout sale. Again, Consumer Reports rated it highest.

I really wanted a Fisher-Price dresser (chifferobe) with drawers on one side and a small closet to hang her little dresses. The popular one was in avocado green with yellow and orange knobs. (The one below is actually much prettier than the one I coveted, but it shows the idea.)

Unfortunately, all new furniture was way beyond our budget. So we found an old beat-up chifferobe at a thrift store. Then we painted the crib and dresser in a mint green. We bought large wooden ball knobs. We painted half in hot pink and the other half in bright yellow.

The curtains were white, sheer Priscilla tiebacks my mom bought for my bedroom when I was twelve.

I matted two of the Northern Girls in green and framed them in yellow on either side of the windows.

The other three went into one yellow mat with a green frame over the crib.

One of my favorite photos of Kim as a baby looks a lot like the baby in the middle.

When we cleaned out the closets this week in order to install new carpet, the prints showed up. A couple are worse for the wear, and all of them have yellowed. But it was nice to see them again. They brought back memories of when our daughter was very small.

Unfortunately, I have no photos of her room with the furniture and pictures.

For years, I felt guilty because we couldn’t get new stuff for our baby. However, today, I have a new appreciation for our creativity. Kim had a darling room, fit for the princess she was!

Were we ahead of the curve, or were we just cheap?

When we bought our first house, we turned an impossible bedroom into an elegant retreat. Maybe I’ll tell you about it next week.