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We had a death in our family and a dear friend lost her grandmother this week. I’ve been thinking a lot about my grandfather, my grandmother and legacies. It just got me to thinking about how what we do in our lives, how the paths we choose, leaves behind a legacy that can impact many generations.

Take the one side of my family. I had a great-grandfather, who to put it bluntly, was a drunk and just downright mean. I never knew him (not something I’m upset about from the stories I’ve heard). He passed his legacy down to his son, who in turn drank himself into the grave, although I don’t ever remember him being mean. This legacy has continued to be passed down, generation to generation.

The other side of my family, I had a grandmother who was a good woman. She did what was right, she loved the Lord, she raised children by herself when her husband died. She was good, and kind, and honest and forthright and sincere. She had the sweetest spirit and outlook on life. By contrast, she has left a legacy, for the most part, of happy families, most of whom are saved and gentleness and peace.

This all got me to thinking about the legacy I’ll leave behind. Sure I try to go to church, do what is right, be a good person. But I’m also impatient with my kids at times. I’m cranky, tired, busy. I don’t always take the time to stop and help others when I should, it’s just sort of hit or miss. And I have made a commitment to do better. To pass a better legacy than even the one I was given to the next generation. To make up for any little holes in that legacy and to most of all let them know they are loved unconditionally, so they can always hold that close to their hearts.

So, ask yourself today, what is your legacy? What are you leaving behind for future generations? Your attitudes have a ripple effect. Will your ripples turn into rings of joy or circles of despair?

In this world, I’ve faced my share of sorrows – when my cousin Michael died, when we lost grandparents, when I miscarried our baby and when I’ve lost opportunities. I’ve also had my share of joy – when each of my girls was born, watching their smiles and laughter along the years, finding joy in Christ and always having animal companions by my side. Although I have friends and family who love me, it is true that no one loves you like a cat or dog. Not only do pets love us unconditionally, but they love us when we’re mean. They love us when our hair looks like we stuck our finger in the light socket and we haven’t had a bath in two days because of the world’s worst flu. Cats and dogs love us when we are truly unlovable. I have had many wonderful pets. I still have three dogs, a cat and a turtle that are all pretty great. But there are those pets that define us. They come into our lives almost accidentally it seems. It is one such pet that I write about today, my little Sissy cat.

When my husband and I were first married, we desperately wanted a child. We tried for over a year with no success. We went to doctors to find out what was wrong and they could find nothing. Everyone around me was having children and I wanted a baby! It was like a clawing need. One day my husband took me on a surprise mission. It was to pick out a Siamese cat. I love Siamese cats. I have always owned one. They are affectionate, smart and wonderful in many ways. Anyway, we picked out this little blue-eyed Siamese kitten. She was so small that my husband put her in his pocket and we carried her home.

I wanted to name her Chelsea or Zoe, but my husband said she was the baby sister cat and we should call her Sissy. Sissy it was. She was sweet and affectionate and loved to be held, so that’s what I did. I held her. All the time. She even drank from a baby bottle. Something I’d regret teaching her later as she tried to steal the girls’ bottles when they were babies.

I sometimes wonder if God knew what I needed at that moment and he sent me an angel in this little cat. She clung to me as a lifeline and I clung to her and she crawled right into my heart. She was a bit skittish for many years and scared of other people. Yet through all the moves and the changes in our lives (adding babies and so on), she and I were side-by-side. There wasn’t a night that I sat down that she wasn’t at my side. I even had a bedtime for my little Doxie so that my baby could get her time in with me without interruption. If my lap was free, that was where she’d sit. Sometimes she’d crawl up onto my chest and kiss me on the chin. She always purred. If my computer was on my lap, she sat on the arm of my chair and placed her paw or her chin on my arm and stared at me with those beautiful light blue eyes, purring (of course).

If I left on a trip, she’d pout when I returned as though to ask why I’d left her behind. Yet, she hated to travel in a car. After she was through pouting, she’d come out and howl at me for a good hour, fussing and arguing about why I’d been gone. I didn’t leave often, but she didn’t like it when I did.

My beautiful baby aged as I have, but a cat’s life span is so much shorter than ours. As I hit my mid-thirties, I noticed my baby beginning to slow down. She slept more. She ate less. Her fur lost its once beautiful sheen. Her eyes were still brilliant and she was as sweet and wonderful as ever. She was just elderly now and I knew our time would one day come to an end.

My precious Sissy died this morning around 5 or 6 a.m. I had rushed her to the vet yesterday because her pupils were crazy dilated and she was so disoriented. I couldn’t even see the blue in her beautiful eyes. I suspected renal failure. The vet said that isn’t what took her. He suspects an aneurism or stroke. She was 16. I hate that I left her there, but I had prayed that the Lord would take her if all she was going to do was suffer, so I praise him for his mercy and for answering that prayer.

This cat changed and defined me. She taught me about the depths of unconditional love and that I was great (in her eyes anyway). She was always sweet, always happy to see me and just good to the core. We could all take a page from Sissy’s chapter and learn more about how we should act. She taught me that love is more than carrying a child. Love is about a bond and a connection, whether it is with a child that you didn’t give birth to, one you did give birth to, or a tiny cat that came into your life and taught you these things.

I love you, precious baby, and I’m going to miss you terribly.

Hello everyone,

Please pray for little five-year-old Morgan Schmidt. She is ill, they think from E. Coli, and is struggling to recover. Her grandparents go to our church. Please pray for them and for the mother and father as well, that God will give them all strength and peace. And that God will give the doctors wisdom to know how to help Morgan.

Thanks.

Lori

Well, our school year has basically wound to a close. My girls will be continuing to work on math this summer, but we’ve been done with most of our other subjects for a long time. Whether you school year round or take a break at any time during the year, it’s important to build this down time into your schedule. The teacher (you!) needs a break and the kids need the break. By allowing their brains to rest, you allow them to come back refreshed. There are two schools of thought on whether these breaks should be shorter or longer. Personally, I find that shorter breaks help my kids retain more information, but longer breaks help them enjoy their childhood. It quickly becomes a trade-off.

The first year we homeschooled, we (I) decided to do year-round homeschooling. We were on a schedule where we had a week break here and there and a longer break at Christmas, but other than that we homeschooled. I became exhausted. The kids became exhausted and we were all grumpy and hard to get along with.

After that crazy little experiment, I decided that year-round schooling was not for our family. Besides, it really cramped our summer traditions of long lazy days at the pool and road trips on the spur of the moment. I want my children to look back on their childhood and remember those fun summer days of laughter and sunshine. I don’t want their memories to be of gazing out the window and WISHING they could be in the pool, but Mom made them do fractions. So, the second year we chose to do a more traditional type of schoolyear with a two month break in the summer. The exception was that we took our holidays on non-holidays, so we could go places and still avoid the crowds. This set-up seems to work better for us and it is what we’ve stayed with.

My oldest daughter is going to the local high school next year, so my homeschool days with her are coming to an end. As I look back at the past three years, I realize we’ve finally found our homeschooling groove. I no longer stress as much over whether my kids are learning, because I know they are. I no longer worry if one daughter gets behind in a subject, because I’ve learned from experience that they can catch up the minute they set their mind to it. My oldest daughter was at a fourth grade level in math (maybe) when she was in 7th grade. Within a year and a half, she has completely caught up and is ready for high school Algebra. Better yet, she actually understands the math. When I think about all the hours and hours spent trying to drill facts into her head and worrying over her future, I have to laugh and know that God truly does work these things out. My daughter just needed more time and the right math curriculum (MathUSee in her case). Not only does she now understand it, but I expect her to excel in high school math, something I never would have thought possible a few years ago.

So, as this school year winds to a close, ask yourself if you’re allowing time for memories or just memorization.