Author: jeanniebruenning

Saturday morning arrived. Today we did have a time line. We were picking up a cargo van at 9: 00am and it needed to be back by 1:00pm. The installer would be here around 8:30 which meant that one of us would stay home and two would head to the storage until. While Jeff ran to get the van, Austyn and I would begin carrying boxes down the stairs.

We stood in the dining room and looked around us.

”This is sad.” Austyn replied.

“What’s sad?”

“All of this. Leaving Chicago; leaving here. Not seeing my stuff until who knows when.”

We both had tears in our eyes. This was our college dorm. We moved in here when both kids started school and we are leaving as they are completing. We have so many memories in this small place. For Austyn this was the place she was an only child. This is the place that she remembers as Mom, Dad and Austyn. In three short months she will be Mrs. Brian Ford. We were reminded again that every event this year is a major one. Each one is an emotional one and we have them stack one on top of the other.

We were also reminded of the few pacts we have made with each other. The first is to allow ourselves to feel every emotion as we go through this year, we do not want to end the year with a flood of resentment because we allowed everything to fly by. The second is the pinky swear that Austyn and I made not to get stressed about the wedding plans.

It was time to work. We both made our trips down the three flights of stairs, boxes in hand. We stacked them on the bottom two landings. We were carrying boxes down as the installer was carrying tiles up.

The van was loaded, I would stay behind. The purpose for taking Austyn’s things out of the house was to make more room. Every Realtor will tell you to get rid of the junk and extra pieces. I began rearranging the furniture.

As I made a quick pass by the kitchen I stopped to ask what steps were next in the installation. There was a little detail we had forgotten about in all the commotion. We were not to walk on the tiles for 24 hours. In our small place everything is connected. Off the kitchen is the bathroom and our bedroom; “Can’t walk on it for 24 hours?” Well isn’t that fun. It is 20 degrees and snowing today. This has been the longest winter in years and we are all tired of it. We have no stove and now no bathroom. I guess the trips to the store will have to be planned around potty breaks.

Early afternoon Austyn and I head out to pick up lunch and use someone’s restroom. We have an appointment at 3:00 to pick up the wedding dress. How ironic to be bringing something so clean and delicate into such a mess. We had a great lunch from a new Mexican restaurant down the street. I had forgotten about needing to change clothes, so Austyn stretched her way from the dining room to our bedroom and collected what I needed. We changed and headed out. It was about a mile walk and we decided to do just that, walk. We arrived at the little boutique a few minutes before 3:00.

This boutique is by appointment only and there was a group of woman trying on dresses when we arrived. We made our way into the corner, picked up Martha Stewart’s Bridal magazine and waited. There were five woman in this group, two were mothers and three were twenty-somethings. Suggestions, opinions and emotions were flying high. We were glad it was just the two of us. There was a world of difference between that group of five and our group of two. They began to ask us questions about date, place and wedding details and the gulf between our two little groups grew; bands, whirlwind, pressure, dresses, receptions, deadlines and wedding coordinators. I was proud to be in the smaller group.

At 3:15 they finally walked out the door. There was peace again. Austyn headed into the dressing room and emerged a bride. The dress was perfection. We will need it to be hemmed and pressed. We took pictures and she danced around moving from mirror to mirror. Back to the dressing room and back to reality. We left the boutique, caught a taxi and headed home. Jeff had been given the responsibility to put a hook on a wall in Austyn’s bedroom so we had somewhere to hang the dress when we got home. He had completed his task and the dress was on display. I was looking forward to a calm evening.

It wasn’t a calm evening. It was actually quite sad. Austyn was very emotional. We talked and cried that evening. There was a degree of uncertainty in her plans from now until the wedding. She was lonely and hated being only able to talk to Brian on the phone. They are making plans to move to Alaska after the wedding and as exciting as that seems it is also very scary. Most of all Austyn and I will miss each other. We may be 25 years apart in age, but we are facing a common fear, loneliness. What if we both arrive at our new homes and find ourselves alone.

The three of us were very quiet that night as we made our way to bed. This would be worst week in 2008. Promise.

I stood in the kitchen this morning, Sunday March 9, 2008 and declared “This was and will be the worst week of this year!” It was a way of acknowledging the stress of the past week and promising that going forward the stressful weeks were over.

It started the Sunday prior. Raun drove down from Wisconsin to clean out his apartment and get it ready to sublet. I only had a few hours to help before I needed to head to work. As I walked to the bus I could not hold back the tears. Raun’s life was changing so quickly and so dramatically. This morning I was hit with the realization that we would not be here to assist. We would now begin the long distance relationship of Sunday phone calls and planning visits. We were no longer leaving him, he was leaving us.

That night as I sat in bed I wrote Raun a note. There have only been a few times in my life that I have cried from my soul. It’s a feeling so deep that it truly feels as if it is coming from your gut. In the past I’ve cried from my soul after I have lost someone very dear, this night was no different. I have a dear friend who reminds me; “we never get off the delivery table”. Our roles as parents change but they never really go away.

Monday is when we lost control of the purse strings. It was time to sign the contract to put the house on the market. Two thousand here, one thousand there, new kitchen floor, pending wedding expenses, move across the country. Today the rubber hit the road. Up until now this was all a plan, today it became a contract.

Tuesday required some prep work in the kitchen. The work on the new floor was to begin Wednesday morning. All the counter tops were cleared and stored on the dinning room table. The stove was unhooked which meant we would be eating out for then next two days.

Wednesday morning the installer arrived and began carrying in his tools, laid a runner of drop cloths through the condo and began work. It was only a short time into it that he called me in. With the age of our building, he was concerned that the floor tiles were asbestos. He said there was only one place in Chicago to have it tested but he could not remove the tiles until we were sure. I ran down to the basement storage unit. I knew we had a few extra tiles down there somewhere and was hoping that I could get my hands on them. I did and after a few phone calls we were cleared to begin work. The installer left that afternoon around 3pm. He would begin the installation in the morning.

Austyn came home that evening and we began to pack her things. She was going to be moving in April and we had decided that we would move her things into storage which would alleviate some of the pressure of doing it all at once. Once again we were feeling the pressure of all of the forthcoming changes.

Thursday was Jeff’s day to work from home while the kitchen floor was being worked on. At 11am he called me. None of the boxes of tiles matched and even within the boxes there were different colors and sizes. They were calling to get more but it would be morning before we had them. Meanwhile our small 2 bedroom condo was a disaster. There was only a path from the front door to the sofa to the bedrooms. Day three with no stove.

Austyn took Friday off and once again I received a call at 11am. There were no tiles in the country, we would have to pick out a new tile. Jeff and I are ‘do it ourselves’ kind of people. This was the first project that we hired someone from start to finish. We realized on this day that hiring out is just as much work as doing it ourselves. If I could leave work and head to Home Depot, they would be waiting for me and make sure that they could have all the supplies for Saturday.

Picking our tile is not the easiest decision for us. I am not a tile person. It is not my preference for a kitchen floor and I’m not going to be living here. It took three weeks for us to decide on the last one, now I should make a decision on the spot.

I left work, jumped in a taxi and headed to Halsted. Austyn would meet me there. I walked up to the service desk and asked, “Is Vince here?”. Three men turned their heads slowly and one finally said, “I’m Vince”. We made our introductions and off we went to the tile aisle.

“Too dark, too textured, too shiny, too peach, that’s nice. Yuck. What do you think about that one? Dad would hate that one. Too blah, too white….”

We grabbed four and walked over to the kitchen cabinet display. Fortunately they had a display that was very similar to our counter top and cabinets.

“That one is nice. That one looks like vomit. That works. That’s too peach. I like that one.” Back to the service desk to make sure it was in stock.

“Now what color grout do you want?”

Actually I don’t want any grout; I just want my stove back. We made our decision. After a few more phone calls and private conversations we were assured that we were all set and the tile would be there in the morning. We were finished.

Austyn and I stood up and made our way to the stairs. “What does that mean?” Austyn whispered.

“Well, they are giving us the new tile at no extra charge.” We looked at each other with big eyes and funny expressions and headed toward the door. This tile was almost three times the price of the original title we had selected.

That night as we returned from a gallery showing that Austyn was a part of we could not help but relive the day. Even though the time line had not gone as planned, the people that we encountered were all good people. Actually as we recalled everyone we have had contact with in the past few months, we realized that we have enjoyed working with each one. We have had some wonderful people cross our paths and it has helped to make this whole experience a little easier to deal with.

Friday night dinner was take out again. Early to bed, tomorrow we would be moving Austyn.  This was only Friday, there remained two days before this week would end.

In my adult years I have always been intrigued by the “New Age” mentality. I say in my adult years because I clearly remember in my teen years being taught that the New Age Movement was satanic. Meditation was evil and if we allowed our minds to be quiet the devil would be able to take over, so we were always thinking. I have to say I believe our inability to be still and know (Proverbs ) comes from this fear of meditating.

When the book The Secret came out, I picked up a copy. There has been a lot of discussion about this book, for many it’s another big promise book; material gain is mine if I believe hard enough. First of all I do not think we can believe hard enough, either we believe or we don’t.

What I do appreciate about these books is the focus on how and what we say. If you stand back for a few moments and really listen to people talk you will be amazed at the amount of negativity that floods conversations; “Of course that would happen to me; I’m an idiot; Why does this always happen to me; It will never be my turn.” It is endless. The secret taught me how to speak and it changed me. For me it is not about the I want list, instead it is about In My Life statements.

I am really good at making statements such as: I’ll never do that again or I won’t let that happen again. When those types of comments are second nature it is very difficult to translate them into positive statements. I would joke that I was being very positive; I positively would never allow that to happen again. Either way, it was not working for me.

In My Life statements do not focus on the things I want in life rather these statements focus on the quality of life I want to live. For instance, there was a time I was very frustrated with the fact that I did not feel appreciated by my children. In the past I would make comments such as; they don’t respect me or why do I let them take advantage of me. My new way of thinking allowed me to change my focus:

In my life, my children respect and appreciate me.

Every time I became frustrated with either of the kids I would repeat this over and over to myself. In a very short time things began to change. To my surprise I began to receive sincere acknowledgement and words of appreciating coming from both of them.

I found myself in a job that I did not enjoy nor did I enjoy the people I worked with. It took me several days of asking myself to define what it was that I wanted in a job. The much deeper issue was that I did not want to work and I was feeling trapped as if I did not have a choice in the matter. I could not define my dream job but I could define the environment I longed to be a part of. I repeated this statement every night, every morning and whenever I found myself hating work.

In my life I choose to work and the work I do is fun and challenging, it allows me to be surrounded by people who are creative, happy and live balanced lives.

I found that after a short period of time my frustration level changed. By repeating this during frustrating times I realized that this was not where I wanted to work and I was not trapped. It was an amazing pressure release valve. I still was not trilled with the job but the overwhelming feeling of resentment towards working in general disappeared making the job much more tolerable. As I began to look for a new job I had already defined the environment I was looking for. It was very easy for me to say, this is not the right fit for me.

I desperately wanted my children to be financially responsible. Both were coming to the end their college days and true adulthood was just ahead. It amazes me how two children growing up in the same home with the same parents can deal with finances so differently. Austyn was overly concerned about money and Raun had never grasped the concept of a budget or checkbook. I had worried about this for several years and was obviously not making any progress with either of them.

In my life my children are financially responsible.

Repeating these words to myself helped me to see my children where I wanted them to be. I stopped focusing on Raun’s inability to manage his money and saw him as a responsible adult. Oddly enough he actually started to become that person.

There was a period of time I felt very vulnerable in my role as a wife. I had fallen into the trap of feeling responsible for everyone and I was not cared for.

In my life my husband provides for me.

That simple phrase allowed me to move into a new level of trust, respect and love for my husband.

In my life statements take time to developed. At first I would write and rewrite these statements over and over until I had removed anything that was negative. Words like won’t, can’t, no, never were so embedded in my vocabulary that I found myself having to work at making positive statements. It has now become second nature.

As I look ahead into 2008 I could easily get caught up in all that could go wrong. The timing required selling and buying a house, making the move and not having to rent. However, in my life real estate transactions are timely and profitable with no unexpected delays. I truly believe that and am excited to see how it plays out.

My children are both leaving the comfort zone of mom and dad and becoming spouses themselves. The list of what I could worry about is endless. However, in my life my children are developing relationships that will last a life time.

I am facing the reality of being a grandmother of three. The list of what to worry about is endless. However, in my life my grandchildren are safe, protected and well cared for. No exceptions.

In my life statements have changed my life. I write them down. I read them every time I feel a little unsettled. I say them before I go to sleep. In the midst of frustration, I recite them. When life has brought me to tears, I sit on my bed and read them over and over. When fear surrounds me and I feel helpless and I boldly proclaim them. And when they become reality …I write new ones.

February is the birthday month in our family. Every birthday has a tendency to force us to stop and reflect. Austyn’s is not different. If I had been able to control nature Raun and Austyn would have been 3 years apart but as it went there four and a half years between them. I struggled for two years not knowing why I couldn’t get pregnant and when it finally happened I was thrilled.

The first doctor’s visit was the typical appointment. The call that came a day or two later was not. My blood type is AB negative and although it is rare it in itself is not an issue. What was the issue is the fact that I had already produced antibodies. In layman’s terms this means that if my blood come in contact with the babies blood the antibodies would see the baby as a disease and try to kill it. Questions were asked about Raun’s birth. Fortunately I was in the same doctor’s office so they had all my records. The doctor had already looked into that history and was alarmed that those same antibodies were also found while I was carrying Raun.

When this occurs, each birth becomes a higher and higher risk. Basically what I was being told was that Raun should have been considered a high risk and that further pregnancies be avoided. This would now classified as a high risk pregnancy, which meant visits every 2 weeks. Bi-weekly blood tests and waiting for results. I was always well informed about what we were testing for and what paths were options to us. With each test came the wait for a call, each call would reported “all is well, see you in a few days”.

During an appointment just prior to my due date I mentioned that I had noticed a lack of movement in the past day or so. Arrangements were made to be at the hospital the next day; they were planning to induce me.

The next morning we were loading the car, dropped Raun off at his best friend’s house and made our way to the hospital. I was in a large room hooked up to monitors waiting for it all to begin. It took very little time to realize that this would be the second time I was going to experience back labor. Back labor is very different, the pain never lets up and is unbearable. Once again I would be doing this with out pain killers, not by choice but because of the fear that the baby couldn’t handle it.

As the time came closer, I realized that more and more people were entering the room; my doctor and the two or three nurses from the unit, a group of about six from the NICU and a group from the nursery. The room was filling quickly. My doctor happened to have laryngitis and was whispering the entire time. It was quite the scene, twelve or more people standing against the door, I in pain trying to breath and Dr. MacDonald whispering the entire time. He informed me that he had called these two groups is so we would be prepared for anything.

In a very short time I could see Dr. MacDonald holding a precious head in his hands. One more push and I heard him say “stop pushing”. The nurses moved quickly, grabbing the cart and pulling it close to the bed.

“Clamp. Cut. Clamp, Cut. Clamp.” This seemed to go on for hours.

“Clamp.”

“Five is all we have, there are no more”, replied the nurse.

“OK, Jeannie one more push.”

At that moment, the group that was standing at the door went into action. Half left and the others made their way to the bed. Dr. MacDonald handed over this infant who was now blue. I looked back at Jeff, there was great concern on his face.

A few moments later we heard, “She’s breathing”. It was the first we knew she was a girl. Everything had gone so quickly that the reality of “she’s breathing” did not hit us until later.

We held her for just a few moments and off she went with this team of people to NICU. The next few days were very lonely. The walks to NICU were long. The unit itself seemed so bright and there were alarms going off every few moments. She was there for three days simply because she wasn’t eating.  We would be able to take her home once she began to eat.

I went home before her, another very long and lonely drive. The day we brought her home had mixed emotions. It was very apparent that we had not bonded. This could have been any baby, we had missed those first days of connecting, of becoming one. I had to make up for those lost days and I did. I laid on the sofa for the next few days as much as possible allowing Austyn to lie on my stomach. Two days later we had bonded, she belonged, she was ours.

Dr. MacDonald was very clear that some of the issues caused by this difficult birth could have long-term effects. The cord had been wrapped around her neck 5 times. There could be development issues down the road, even into her late teen years.

As we were explaining to Raun about his sister’s birth we told him that she was blue when she was born. Somehow that explanation led him to think of Smurfs, the animated television show. That has stuck all these years. Every birthday I relive that experience. I can hear the words “she’s breathing” as if Dr. MacDonald is in the room.

The Smurf baby is all grown up and going to get married. Had we known of the risk we were taking, would we have chosen to take the risk and have a second child? Probably not. Jeff and I are risk takers but not when is come to dealing with life issues. What would the world be like without Austyn? It’s unimaginable.

I cried tonight at Jake’s. Jake’s, how does one describe it? Up until the 1950s it was the corner candy store, one of those great corner locations that appear to be built in a triangle. During the 50’s the candy went away and the alcohol arrived becoming the corner bar. In fall of 2006 Jake’s received its first face-lift. In no means was this to be referred to as a remodel; it was simply a face-lift. Jake’s doesn’t serve food so dogs are allowed to join their masters at the corner pub; on a typical night customers have to step over the sleeping dog in the middle of the floor.

We discovered Jake’s shortly after moving into the city and have spent many wonderful afternoons and evenings there. Our Chicago neighborhood is very diverse not only in race but in age, income, family, single, straight, gay and Jake’s is the neighborhood hang out. When the kids returned home from traveling, Jakes is where we would sit and hear their stories. When friends come into the city, Jake’s is where we would end the evening. When family came to visit, Jake’s is where the deep philosophical discussions would run early into the next morning. If my phone rang earlier than usual on a Friday afternoon, I knew Jeff was sitting at Jake’s, his favorite way to end the week. Jake’s had become part of our lives.

There were many evenings that we would meet friends there. Jeff and I, forty-something with two grown children being invited to hang out with twenty-somethings who were trying to figure out life. I clearly recall a few nights as the conversations were flying across the table that I mentally took a step back to take it all in. Across from me was a young couple who were living together, next to me a gay couple that had just celebrated six months together which was the longest relationship that either of them had experienced and two or three college students. A few of them having no idea what they wanted to be when they “grew up.”  How did I, a preacher’s kid from a small town in Wisconsin, come to be so honored as to be included in this circle of lives? The conversations always came around to relationships and spirituality. Those are evening and conversations I will cherish for the rest of my life.

So why was tonight so emotional? Austyn and I had been discussing our reception options. With a destination wedding it is common to have small receptions back home so those who cannot attend the wedding can still be a part. There was one planned for Wisconsin where most of our extended family still live and of course there would be one in Chicago.

Chicago has many options for such an event, but the Chicago reception needed to represent our life there. We had had dinner at one of our all-time favorite restaurants across just a block from our building. A Scottish Pub named Duke of Perth and the only Scottish pub in the city of Chicago. It has the most delightful beer garden, which is perfect for a July afternoon. As we ate our food and tried to imagine what it would be like, we both agreed that it could work. Duke of Perth would truly be a memorable location for the Chicago reception. Just across the street sat Jake’s. After we finished our dinner consisting of three different appetizers, we walked into Jake’s, headed to the back of the bar and looked around…but this is Jake’s.

It’s dark, it’s simple, it has one pool table, a dartboard that sits a little too close to the bar and bar stools. There are candles that line the bar and illuminate the 5 high-tops along the sidewall, but these do more for disguising the space opposed to creating atmosphere. We sat at the bar and discussed our options. We could serve good ol’ Chicago Dogs, those are famous; we could hire a caterer. We could have a table arrayed with flowers, incredible deserts and champagne. What a great contrast; elegance at Jake’s. The thought of it made us both laugh.

As we sat talking about our plans I fast forwarded to that day, imagining what it would be like. We might still be living around the corner come July or we could be traveling 2000 miles to get here, either way it would most likely be the last time that we would all be together at Jake’s. And when that evening would end we would all be walking away from a place that held so many memories. Jake’s is the place that taught us the importance of being open, honest and non-judgmental. A place that allowed us to rid ourselves of the Sunday morning ritual of serving fellow Christians and brought us face to face with the reality of day to day real lives. The lessons I learned at Jake’s will impact me for the rest of my life.

I don’t have to imagine that day much longer for that day is approaching quickly. This place will never be duplicated. We will never experience these discussions again because life will have changed. Children will have gotten married and the four years that we spent in East Lakeview will become history.

There will be new discussions however, and when those discussions begin to recall memories, just the mention of Jake’s will bring a flood of emotions. I love our corner bar.

I am an organizer. Give me a problem and I can produce a plan that will cover all the bases. It’s how may brain works. I have apparently passed some of that on to Austyn as well. There is great fun is solving problems, putting plans together and watching them be executed. If not careful it is also a tool to use to gain and keep control, a very dangerous arena to be in. Austyn and I were both finding ourselves with huge projects, a wedding and a major move. Both need plans and both come with vague time lines which makes it feel almost impossible to plan.

It was a Friday evening when Austyn came to me with the, “I have to do something or I’m going to go crazy” conversation. “Should we start working on invitations?” I asked. The next morning I walked into Austyn’s room around 7 and she was at her computer designing. From the looks of it she had already put in a few hours. By 10:00 she presented us with the first draft.

I pulled out my pocket size wedding etiquette book to make sure the wording was correct. I wanted to make sure all the names were listed properly. The invitations read:

Because you’ve shared in their lives by your friendship and love,

we are very proud to announce the marriage of

Austyn Elizabeth

daughter of

Jeffrey & Jeannie Bruenning

to

Brian Patrick

son of

Robert & Janise Ford

Tuesday the Twenty-fourth of June, Two thousand eight

…sometime in the afternoon

Holden Beach, North Carolina

…sometime in the afternoon. That was so Austyn. My first thought went to the reception. How can I organize a reception for …sometime in the afternoon? I do believe the chief may have an issue with this. Sometime in the afternoon is how it read and that is how it would stay.

We gathered the pieces; the actual invitation, the response card, a travel information card listing hotels and websites and the envelopes. We would need a small envelope for the response card, that one should be pre-addressed. Pre-addressed to where? No one in our family had any idea what their address would be when these response cards would be sent back in. Once again we found ourselves sitting at a dinning room table laughing. What address do we use? I don’t think the etiquette book allowed phone numbers. Out of this did come the idea for Austyn and Brian to set up their own wedding website so we could expand travel suggestion, list of where they were registered; a place where could keep everyone up to date on their plans. A brilliant idea I must say.

I often compare our journey through life to the frequent cab rides we take. We all know we need to get somewhere and we can’t do it on our own. We are too tired, the distance is too far or we simply do not know how to get there. So we stand on the corner hailing a taxi. We can’t just stand there because the taxi won’t stop. We have to wave or whistle to let it be known we have the need of a taxi. We enter the back seat, no taxi driver ever let’s you drive. We state where we need to go. At that very moment we loose total control and put our full trust in the driver. Surprisingly enough, we get there. Sometimes it’s fast with horns honking, sometimes it’s a pleasant scenic ride and sometimes we are so preoccupied we are unaware of where we are. The final outcome is that we do get there.

I have a wedding to plan. My husband and I are moving across the country and my son is going to make me a grandmother. I know where I am going but I’m too tired, don’t know the way and it is just too far so I keep standing on the corner hailing taxi’s. Surprisingly enough they keep picking me up and getting me to the next point.