Laurel Elisabeth Stevens

While eating chocolate cake in honor of Tim’s birthday, Elisabeth asked if we could watch “A Bit of Bitsy”--a collection of video clips of Elisabeth at about age 20 months.  It’s one of many treasures that Tim put together.  A few months later, he made a video of his first nephew, Timothy, entitled “A Tat of Timothy,” and we chuckled because Tim got his letters mixed up, meaning to call it “A Tad of Timothy.” Something we lost when Tim died was a family chronologer.  We all enjoyed his artistry and humor when it came to videography and film editing.  Before a trip to England when he planned to use his video camera, he emailed us a list of rules for the camera which included most importantly, “Pretend the camera isn’t there.” I’m sure I don’t know the half of what was involved, but I know that he and Kristen spent a lot of time getting the touches just right and finding the right music.  He even had a series of titles, film company names, credits, and even ...

My nine year-old girl and six year-old boy have enjoyed discussing what they want to be when they grow up.  It’s been a hot topic of late, and when kids get to talking about it, there’s no limit.  Elisabeth’s list changes from day to day, but most recently she wants to be -a vulcanologist -a biology teacher  -a teacher at a museum who teaches kids about animals,  -a veterinarian -a writer, or -a veterinarian who writes books Henry also wants to be a writer, or, if he can figure out how to make money this way, a lego collector.  As a writer he will write 3 books.  One will be 435 pages long, one 646 pages, and one 108.  The topics range from planet exploration to large dinosaurs. Being the proud parent I am, I think our kids could do any of these things.  John even thinks Henry could figure out a way to make money selling legos.   Today Elisabeth showed a trait that is valuable in just about any job, but especially...

It isn’t just the dog who needs to get used to her owners. A crate provides protection for both the dog and the house. Chocolate labs are beautiful.  Ours has a graceful, lilting walk that deserves a stare. A 9 year-old daughter who will pick up dog poop without complaining will be a good dog-owner. Boys learn the firm, commanding tone of voice very early. Dogs can’t climb out of pools without the steps, or without someone pulling them out. Vacuuming and mopping can be extra satisfying after owning a dog for five days. We will spend a lot of money at the pet store. A plastic bag with a hole in it is a whole lot worse than no bag at all.  Typically-walk-averse children don’t complain about the length of the walk when going with a dog.  A thunderstorm can be exhausting.  Kong Frisbees don’t float.  Swimming with a dog can make kids forget that the water is only 64 degrees Fahrenheit.  But you must learn to stay away from her claws.  Goo...

Yesterday at the Easter service I held my big six year-old boy in my arms during the first hymn.  Henry still likes to be held during hymns--it is a precious ritual--but he’s getting heavy, so I usually tell him Daddy will hold him.  But March is a month of remembering, and I could not help but remember Easter six years ago when I held my son Henry--a tiny red-faced bundle, opening his mouth and rooting for his mommy every few hours.   He was one-week baptized and my body still reminded me of his recent delivery.  And my heart was still newly-aching from my brother’s death. Resurrection Sunday either meant more to me than it ever had before, or it meant absolutely nothing.   That Easter and every Easter since (even in Germany, in German) we’ve sung the new hymn In Christ Alone by Getty and Townsend. I think it was written for me, truly.  In March of 2007, the space of three days held my brother’s final breath and my son’s first ...

Dear Mom and Dad, A week and two days ago the packers came to your house in Houston.  All your piles of belongings, sorted for “air,” “sea,” or “storage” were boxed up and labeled.  And tonight you will spend your third night in your new home in London.   Your two-day stay with us was wonderful.  I didn’t think about you leaving.  I just enjoyed having you here. As I mentally prepared for your move, I keep thinking about my last sight of you as you left for Vietnam in 2003.  I was seven months pregnant, wondering how you could leave me as my hour of need approached.  But really I knew why.  You went with your husband.  You belonged to each other and I, for nearly three years at that point, belonged to another.  And it was good.   Of course, you could hardly stand not being there when Elisabeth was born.  We called you on the phone somehow, and Dad, newly christened “Grandpère” jumped out of bed in his excitemen...

Laurel, Elisabeth and Grandma Virginia--December 2012 John and I and the kids wrapped up our Christmas traveling with a visit to my dad’s mom, Grandma Virginia.  She’s 96, and losing height with every year, it seems.  But her smile and her wink are as bright as ever . . .if not brighter.  The smile is fine, but that wink of hers, it stabs my heart every time.  It hasn’t changed in all the years I’ve known her. She recognized us, but I said our names clearly just in case she’d forgotten.  I'm never quite sure.  She raved over how the kids had grown.  It had been a year and a half since she’d seen them.  We’ve all changed in that year and a half--the kids and Grandma the most.  Right away she was asking if I’d seen Mother, and when the others were coming. Mother, I assumed, referred to her mother, Nana, who lived with them all the time my dad was growing up, but who passed away a generation ago.   Thoughts ran throug...

There was a bit of worry about the cold weather here in The Woodlands.  Talk of freezing rain that dissipated into nothing.  Friday is Park Day for our homeschooling group, and thankfully, this group is a "whatever the weather" kind of group.  If they can do 95 degrees at noon in July, they can do drizzle and 40 degrees in January.  Because, you know, 40 degrees and drizzle in Texas is, um, very cold.    There was hot chocolate, there were blankets, and hats, but I think my children, lately come from Michigan and before that, Germany, were the best dressed.  Layers, hats, an extra pair of gloves.  Henry even had extra warm knee high socks that John brought him from Hannover. I'm tickled about two things: Henry found that the person he most wanted to play with an 11 year-old boy.  And Elisabeth and a few other kids are planning a club to raise money for a water well through World Vision.  I'm trying really hard, really hard to just sit ...