Heirlooms

Some of my most treasured possessions are items that have been passed down to me from previous family generations. Here is a collection of lovelies I've inherited from my maternal side:


A painting done by my Great Aunt Pinky. It hung in the guestroom of my grandparents' home for years and I grew up admiring it deeply. It now proudly hangs in our own guestroom.

A teacup and saucer my Gramma passed down to me years ago. I use it for special tea times and it makes me feel very fancy.

Not as much an heirloom, but here is a postcard I recently came across that my Grandparents sent me from Kenya back in 1994. They were quite the world travelers. My Gramma's opening sentence, "Dear Deanne, The way you like jewelry, you would really get to wear a lot of it here! The ladies make all their own jewelry and it is very pretty."

The locket my Gramma passed on to me many years ago. Inside are two black and white photos: one of my gramma at age four, and one of my mom at age four. Besides my wedding ring, I think it is the piece of jewelry I treasure the most. I wear it often.

I never had the privilege to meet my Great Grandma Proffitt. She died of cancer when my Gramma was only fourteen. I have one of her porcelain gravy boats and an old handbag of hers. I love them both!

I inherited this beautiful rose-colored glass bowl from my Gramma. It was one of her favorite decor items, and my mom said it often sat on their dining room table, filled with floating flowers.

Two gorgeous ivory pins that belonged to my Gramma--some of the many items she collected during her world travels.

I share a few more sentiments about a few of these items in a recent post, A Letter to Gramma.

A Letter to Gramma

As I sit here in the quiet, sipping tea from the bone china teacup and saucer passed down to me from my Grandma, I find myself at a loss for words.

It has been a little over one month now since my Grandma Dorsey passed away. This is the third grandparent I have lost in less than three years' time. But I have to admit I'm processing the loss of my "Gramma" much differently than when I lost my Grandpa's.

I suppose it is quite natural that typically, a granddaughter should feel closer to her grandmother and a grandson to his grandfather, with being of the same gender. It is no exception with me. I will freely admit I feel closer to both of my grandma's than I did to my grandpa's, simply because we have bonded over so many female-things, similar interests, and shared personality traits. As a girl, I spent much more time in the company of my grandmas than my grandpas. My love for all four of my grandparents is equal, but yes, I share a special closeness with my Grandmas that I didn't share with my Grandpas.

Now I have lost one of my Grandmas. My sweet, beloved Gramma, Ethel Dorsey, passed away peacefully on Christmas Eve. It was perfectly fitting--Christmas Eve was her favorite day of the year, the day when her entire family of kids and grandkids came together to celebrate Christmas.

I had the distinct privilege of reading my Gramma's life story at her funeral service. I was nervous because I am quite an emotional person and when I get emotional and try to speak at the same time, the result is less than pretty. Thankfully I made it through, with some emotional shakiness to my voice near the end. I added in a few personal words about my Gramma. I sincerely would have loved to say so much more but I knew I lacked the strength to say all I wanted to say without completely breaking into sobs.

Since the day of my Gramma's funeral, I have wanted to write something here to commemorate her life and my deep love for her. Yet I have found so much rolling around within my mind and so many emotions in my heart that I truly didn't know where to begin. I have laid awake many nights, staring at the sky through our sunroof, trying to carefully piece through all I want to say about my Gramma. I knew I needed to write about her and as writing is a form of therapy for me, my need to write has grown with each passing day.

Finally, it came to me that I can best process the loss of my Gramma by writing to her. So, I shall.

At the Oregon Coast, March 2009

Dear Gramma,

I am sure you knew that as your granddaughter, I loved you very, very much. Yet I'm not sure you ever really knew just how deeply I loved you and sincerely adored you. Even now as an adult, I feel a great sense of awe and reverence for you. I respect you, and I want to be like you in many ways.

Reflecting back over the years, I am overwhelmed by the warm, happy, and loving memories we share together. I can remember how wonderful it was to be wrapped in your big "hello" hug and I can still remember your sweet smell. I close my eyes and I hear your voice. Then I am there in yours and Grampa's house, sharing a meal at the kitchen table or playing cards and board games for hours. I hear your chuckle and as we chat you say, "Oh, is that right?" as your most frequent exclamation. I hear the tick, tick, tick in the stairwell as I climb the stairs to the bathroom with the red velvet-striped walls. I hop on the stepping stones in your beloved garden and dip my finger in the stone bird bath. I admire all of your lovely collectibles you've brought home from your many travels abroad. I sit on the smooth stone in front of the living room fireplace as you and Grandpa sit in your blue chairs in front of the big picture window, trying your hardest not to doze off {sometimes unsuccessfully}. I felt so safe, so warm, so happy in your home--it was a real second home to me, filled with delightful memories.

You never ceased to amaze me at how many details you remembered about my life, my friends, and my hobbies, despite the fact that I was your tenth grandchild, one who lived on the other side of the US. You always made me feel so incredibly special. I was yours, your one and only precious Deanne. You doted on me and I knew just how much you loved me.

This past Thanksgiving, a few weeks before you passed away, I shared a very special and sacred moment with my mom and Erin. For the very first time ever, we took out your wedding dress. You had never taken it out of the box it was preserved in, even to show it to my mom.

A hushed silence came over the three of us as we took in the beauty and significance of this satin gown. It was exquisite. We were in awe, and suddenly, I felt your presence there in the room with us.

And then, a monumental moment in my life: I tried on your wedding dress. I stepped out of the changing room and instantly my mom's eyes flowed with tears. We embraced for a long time. We admired every detail of your dress: the point at the cuff of the sleeves, the long, silky train, the very slight puff of the sleeves at the shoulder, the gathering of the fabric at the waist, the delicate trail of buttons all the way down the back, and the lovely veil. It was so simple but so unbelievably elegant. I had seen your wedding photos but seeing your dress in person took my breath away. It was one of the loveliest things I have ever seen.

As I stood in front of the mirror, wearing your dress and admiring it, a very profound thought came into my mind: I would not exist if it weren't for this dress. 

Because you put on that dress and pledged your heart to Grandpa on your wedding day, I exist. You gave my mom life, and therefore you gave me life. It's all a rather simple premise, yet in that moment I was overwhelmed by your contribution to my life. It was one my top life-moments, and I became acutely aware of how you and I belong to one another; how I truly came from you.

Mom, Erin, and I also shuffled through all of the other mementos you saved along with the dress. Most of it consisted of ticket stubs from your honeymoon to the seaside, the receipts of the purchase of your gown, veil, and Grandpa's wedding suit, and records scribbled in your handwriting of various other wedding or honeymoon-related expenses. In that moment, I realized how very much I am like you in that way--keeping mementos from special occasions and events.

And then I suddenly remembered a very specific memory from my early childhood and realized that it was you who taught me to keep scrapbooks. I must have been about six, and you were visiting our home in Spokane, Washington. I vividly remember sitting at the dining room table with you. You presented me with a brown leather book with the words "Scrapbook" in gold on the front. It was the kind were you peeled back the cellophane from each page and stuck things down onto the sticky page. We sat for a long time, you and I, as you helped me leaf through lots of magazines to find pictures I liked to cut out and add to the scrapbook. We added lots of other things like postcards, stickers, and the front of greeting cards. We had filled the scrapbook together and it was something I treasured throughout my childhood. 

Now I have scrapbooks filled with all sorts of important little things. I save movie ticket stubs {and note who I saw the movie with}, old photos, newspaper clippings, wedding or baby shower invites from family or close friends, museum tickets, old driver's licenses or photo ID cards from high school and college...the list goes on. I've realized my affinity for the saving and scrapbooking of these sorts of things came from you. I really love these scrapbooks and I continue to create them to this day. I wish I could show them to you.

I have to tell you how excruciatingly difficult it was to watch you struggle with dementia over these past many years. You were you, yet you weren't, and with time more of you slipped away, little by little. My heart was so sad as I watched you struggle with forgetfulness, confusion, and sadness. It was cruel to watch, but more cruel to experience, I am quite sure. You told us many times you were ready to "go home" to heaven and as your family, none of us wanted to see you struggle with this awful illness any longer, lest it worsen. Now, we praise the Lord, not only because you are home with our Heavenly Father, but because you are finally free.

As I've observed your mind slip away over the past years, I found myself feeling more drawn to you, longing for a connection. I wanted to feel you here with me, despite all the thousands of miles between us physically and all the growing fuzziness of your mind. So I have found ways in which I keep you with me and I cling to these things all the more now that you are physically gone.

Do you remember when you gave me the gold heart locket, the one with the delicate engraving on the front? It has two pictures inside: one of you when you were four years old, and a picture of my mom when she was four years old. You mailed it to me without explanation in high school. I began wearing it frequently over the past ten years or so. In fact, I consider it one of my very most treasured belongings. I wore it on the day of your funeral, and I will wear it for the rest of my life, feeling a wonderful connectedness to you as it hangs near my heart.

I am also proud to possess the beautiful oil painting of the sun setting over the ocean shore, done by your sister, Pinky. Because it hung on the wall opposite the bed of your guest room, I grew up gazing at that painting each time I stayed in your home. I loved the painting so much that I even used to go up to the bedroom just to "nap," which was really an excuse to lay on the bed, listen to my portable CD player, and gaze at the painting. I loved doing that as my little way to "recharge" in my own introverted manner. Now the painting proudly hangs in our beach-themed guest room. I have other mementos from the Oregon coast in that room which always remind me of you and Grampa, yet it is this painting alone that evokes such strong memories of our happy visits to your home.

In all of these little ways, Gramma, I carry you with me each day. Yet I hope that I can best honor you and your life by the way I live mine. So many of the things that were most important to you are also the things that Matt and I value and practice within our own home. Most namely: the love of family and the love of Christ. We cherish and adore our family, both immediate and extended, just as you and Grampa did. And we strive to center our daily lives around Christ and honoring Him, just as you and Grampa did. In practicing our faith and raising our children to come to know and love Jesus is the most important and meaningful way I believe we can honor your life and Grampa's life.

I always knew how proud you were of me and I hope I can continue to make you proud. You may be physically gone from this earth, but I hold onto your love and memory in my heart. I will never be able to thank you enough for all the memories, the love, the life you have given to me. I praise God for knowing that I can thank you again one day in person when we reunite in heaven. I will once again be wrapped in your wonderful, loving arms, and I will never let you go.

In loving memory of one of the loveliest women I've ever known.

A Delightful 4th Holiday Weekend

Oh was a very fun holiday weekend we had!

Happy Birthday, America!

 We went away to meet up with my best friend and her family in my old hometown of St. Joseph.

The reunion of the red-headed best friends!

Laura and I loved getting our three girls together. And of course we loved dressing them up for the 4th!

Left to right: Addie {2 and 1/2}, Eden {4}, and Makenna {16 months}

We spent the majority of the 4th laying on the soft sands of Lake Michigan and swimming in the pleasantly warm water.

Silver Beach, where I spent my summers growing up. It was so good to be back!

St. Joseph has added a beautiful carousel since I've moved away. It was Makenna's second time to ride {with last year being her first}, but her first riding on a carousel horse.

Makenna held onto my cardigan with a death grip the entire time. Still, she didn't cry!

We spent a lot of time snapping pictures of our kiddos.

We ate out at a lot of our favorite restaurants in St. Joseph. And apparently Makenna loves eating lemons?!

If you look closely, you'll see some "ouchies" on Makenna's nose; she face-planted mid-run!

As per usual, here's Makenna approaching strangers to make friends.

Another thing added since I've moved away is the "Splash Pad" water fountains.

Oh how our little water baby loved this!

Running, and running, and running...

Makenna's hair seems to be getting blonder and she's looking like quite the little summer babe.

We're finally {finally!} getting to the stage when we can use coloring to help her sit patiently at restaurants.

We loved our little getaway back to my "home." I miss coming here so much and even after many years, I still find it hard to accept that my parents don't live here anymore, making my return visits few and far between. But I guess that makes them all the more special in a way.

Still, I marveled as we drove through old familiar streets, dined at our old haunts, strolled the quaint downtown, and relaxed at Laura's parents' house, how it felt like I'd never even left. A big part of my heart remains in St. Joseph and always will. Matt equally loves St. Joseph, so returning for little getaways will always be a priority for us. I hope Makenna and any future siblings of hers will come to love this very special town on the Lake as much as we do.

Until next time, St. Joseph!

Travel Memoirs: A Dreamy Train Ride

It was one of those moments when you wake up in a strange bed and feel disoriented, wondering where the heck you are. And then I remembered, Oh yes, I'm on a train.

It was five weeks in during my semester studying in France when classes halted for a two week-long break. In these five weeks, I had made friends with two American girls from my study abroad program and another Swedish girl from one of our classes. Together we had decided to set off to southern France and then on to Barcelona to fill our two weeks with as many adventures as possible.

I had volunteered as trip organizer, booking our flights and accommodations. Though we could have flown to Nice, it was cheaper to take a train, and after all, why not take advantage of France's famously speedy and efficient railway systems? I also had always thought the idea of taking a sleeping car and traveling overnight on a train to be appealing, and perhaps even slightly romantic. Thankfully the girls seemed to like my idea and I booked our tickets.

We knew full well that our sleeping car wouldn't be spacious or glamorous at the rate we paid, and we were curious to see how six individuals were to fit into one sleeping compartment. Yes--we would be sharing a compartment with three other strangers! We ended up sharing with a mother and her two children, both of whom were extremely quiet, well-behaved, and slept soundly.

The beds pulled out of the wall and were stacked three high on either side of the compartment. By the sheer kindness of my travel mates, I ended up on the lowest bed. Our train had departed around 10:30 at night, and by 11:30, we were all tucked into our beds, partially as a courtesy to the very sleepy children curled up opposite from us.

As I lay there, I stared at the twinkling stars out the window by my feet. The clickity-clack of the train quickly lulled me to sleep, and I slept deeply and soundly the whole night through.

I awoke early, as sunlight began to peek into our compartment. I propped myself up on my elbow to see out the window and stared for many moments, certain what I was seeing was an illusion. It was the sea!

There was my first glimpse of the Mediterranean, seemingly yards away outside our window, sparkling with the most gorgeous shades of orange and red from the sunrise. I was in awe, feeling I had stepped into a dream. This--this was one of the most beautiful sights my eyes had ever seen, and appearing at such an unexpected moment.

A huge smile crept across my face as I took in the beauty of the sea in the utter quiet and stillness of our little train compartment. What a glorious beginning to our adventures along the sea.

Travel Memoirs

My little blog here began as a way to share my overseas experiences with family and friends while I was away. The travel theme has been recurring here many times since I have been so incredibly fortunate to have traveled and spent time abroad in my life thus far.

I think of these many travels daily. Most often I am thinking of dear friends I made during my travels and missing them terribly. Other times I think of little things: the quiet restaurants, the amazing coffee, the fresh bread and pastry shops, walking everywhere, lovely architecture. I love these little moments of remembrances that transport me back to these special places where I've visited, lived, studied, or worked, even if only for a tiny instant.

These little memoirs that are a part of my daily life are very special to me. Travel is sacred to my soul. Travel is something I desperately need in my life. I had felt a longing for it ever since I was a young child, but until I first traveled abroad at age fourteen, I never really knew how deeply I needed it. I still feel the call of travel tugging at my heart each and every day, beckoning me to adventure and new discoveries.

I am a firm believer in living in the present and enjoying it to its fullest potential, however I find it to be quite refreshing to my mind and heart to pause and reflect upon my travels. I believe that is what travel is all about. It's excitement, discovery, stepping outside of one's own comfort zone--these things inevitably change a person, be it in big ways or small. The times I have studied or worked abroad have been especially intense times of growth for me--personal growth, spiritual growth, academic/linguistic growth, and thousands upon thousands of enriching experiences. I feel that if I were to forget these times and not pause to let the memories flood my heart and mind once again, then it was all for naught.

Strasbourg, France

Because I recently read a book on French parenting, France has been especially on my mind. I essentially spent eight months total there--two six week-long study programs in Normandy and five months studying at the University of Strasbourg. Oh! How I adore France! I lack the words to convey how deeply I love the French language, culture, and people. Yet in my recent remembrances of France, I've felt inspired to start sharing some of these travel memoirs that cross my mind--not just of France, but everywhere else I've been, too. It may be something as small as foods I came to love or something as big as a specific event that was quite memorable.

I hope you will enjoy these snapshots I will soon begin to share!

Gender Reveal

Our little, intimate gender reveal gathering was such a fun and memorable night! It meant so much to Matt and I that both sets of our parents made a considerable drive just to participate in our special moment.

To preface our little reveal: Matt and I were going to open a "present" in front of our parents. This present contained a gender-neutral stuffed monkey {the only gender-neutral small animal Target had!}. We brought the box, the monkey, and a pink and blue ribbon to our ultrasound appointment. We asked the ultrasound tech to leave the room, tie the correct colored ribbon around the monkey's neck, then throw the other ribbon away. She did so and put the monkey safely back into the box. {Once in the car after the appointment, I taped the box shut with packaging tape to eliminate temptation. Then I wrapped the present, again using packaging tape, as soon as we arrived home. Matt and I were so good and didn't sneak a peek!}

Here is the present just before the reveal:

And now.....














without further ado...















we discovered that our little baby is.....

















A GIRL!!!



Ok be honest....how many of you scrolled down to this part before reading the beginning part of this blog post??!

Matt and I are beyond thrilled!!


While Matt didn't really have a "feeling" about the gender of our baby from the start, I most definitely did. I felt very strongly that it was a girl. Yet I didn't let my mind linger upon this at all; I was too afraid of dreaming about how fun it would be to have a girl and then end up feeling any tinge of disappointment if we discovered our baby was in fact a boy. It was helpful that at my last OB/GYN checkup, our baby's heart rate was a bit on the lower spectrum. I then had a dream a few days later that our baby was a boy. So by the time our gender reveal gathering happened, I really felt uncertain about our baby's gender.

It was so incredibly fun to have our parents there with us when we learned about our baby GIRL! I couldn't have imagined anything more special. I love that we all shared that moment together.

And now, it is SO FUN to know our baby's gender and be able to say "she" or "her." We are just loving this!

Five Years

This weekend Matt and I have been celebrating five years of wedded bliss! It's hard to believe five years have gone by already. When I think back to a mere two years ago, I was just starting my time abroad in Hungary, and Matt had just deployed to Afghanistan. He felt so very far away on that day and it didn't help that I felt like a very lost lamb, having newly arrived to Debrecen. I could never have imagined all the wonderful things that would lay in store as those two years passed, and now here we are, settled back into "normal" life and expecting our first little one!

I love reminiscing about our wedding day. I know it sounds oh-so-cliché, but our entire wedding day was like a fairy-tale-come-true for me. It's funny, too, because I had never been one of those girls who had planned out wedding details in their minds years in advance of meeting Mr. Right. Yet after Matt proposed, it didn't take long until I knew exactly what I wanted our day to look like. {And thankfully I had the most wonderful fiancé ever--Matt was willing to pretty much go along with whatever I wanted!}

Here are the things I knew I wanted:

1. To have our reception at the Hertitage Center in Saint Joseph, Michigan. I have always loved the building and knew the interior would be a gorgeous place for a reception. The venue was already booked for a Saturday and a Sunday wedding the weekend we wanted, but they were free for a Friday evening reception. That of course meant our wedding day would be on a Friday, but the day of the week was no matter to me, plus I really loved the idea of having an evening wedding ceremony {6 pm to be exact}.

2. To be married in the church where I grew up: First Church of God, Saint Joseph, Michigan. I also knew I wanted to use lots of ivy and have it lining the aisle. I knew I wanted sea green for my bridesmaids gowns {my favorite color} and my bouquets to use lots of roses in the palest shades of pink. I also knew that hiring live wedding music wasn't an option because I wanted to use Celtic music throughout the ceremony {one of my favorite genres and also befitting my red hair!}. Matt loved the Celtic music idea and approved all my song choices beforehand.

3. To have wedding pictures taken at the beach {St. Joseph is home to some of the most beautiful beaches you'll ever see}, preferably at sunset. The beach pictures all turned out better than we ever could have dreamed!

We sailed through the entire wedding day without the slightest hiccup. My mom really should go into wedding planning because I kid you not, this woman thought of ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING. The most minute of details was covered. The wedding party all received ten-page packets at the rehearsal, and though it may have seemed over-the-top initially, it indeed ensured that every single person knew his or her schedule to the minute, had directions, contact numbers, and knew the odd job he or she was responsible for. For example, my mom had assigned a bridesmaid the task of gathering up my things post-ceremony and transporting them to the reception hall {a groomsman did the same for Matt}. Then we knew exactly who to ask when we needed our things for freshening up and later changing at the reception.

Because we knew everything had been so thoroughly planned out, Matt and I were able to truly relax and enjoy our wedding day to the fullest. There was no stress, no frazzle--it was simply able to be what it was: the single best day of my life.

Here are some more pictures for you:

Since our wedding ceremony and reception would be taking place in the evening, we had no choice but to take all of our wedding photos during the day. {I actually LOVED this idea anyway...I didn't want to have to mess with many photos after the ceremony. I just wanted to celebrate!} Matt and I still had a very special, private moment where we saw one another for the first time. It was so lovely.



Love LOVE this photo!

Our flower girl: my niece, Krista.

Isn't she the cutest? She did her job perfectly, too!

I adore this photo because it captures me smiling at Matt just before my dad hands me over to him.

I felt as if I was in a dream the entire ceremony.

While the guests headed to the reception hall down the road, we drove to the beach {five minutes away}. We arrived just in time for a gorgeous sunset! {Praise the Lord for fabulous weather that day!} In the twenty minutes or so that we were there, our photographer got the most amazing shots.

Our favorite.

We went back to the reception hall and snapped a few more pictures outside while the guests had hors-d'oeuvres inside. {Our caterer brought out some for the wedding party while we waited for our grand entrances}.

Matt was good-humored enough to let me have the Indiana Jones theme song playing while we made our grand entrance to the reception hall.

Krista totally wore me out on the dance floor!

The only downside to the day was that we weren't able to invite nearly as many people as we wanted. The reception hall only fit about 165 guests comfortably. I know 165 sounds like a lot, but remember that Matt and I are both pastor's kids, so we had many, many people we were very sad not to be able to include.

Not only did my mom do the most fabulous job of planning the entire event, we had so many other people help out with the details, decorating, setting up, and tearing down. From friends who served as wedding coordinator and my "personal assistant", to all the family who helped out as well, thank you from the bottom of our hearts to each and every one of you for making our wedding day the most beautiful and unforgettable day we ever could have asked for!