Empty Nesters

Just two months after Timmy and I were married, we invited his little sister to move in with us. It was a huge sacrifice to give up our first months of newlywed life. But we could hardly leave a sister to experience the horrors of co-ed dorm life at UW Madison! (What’s up with co-ed dorms anyway? How is that ok?) And so she started her college career off right, with a house to live in, her own bathroom (probably preferable to sharing a bathroom with 30+ other girls…gross…), free parking, a kitchen, and two roomies to love her. Perfect.

The first little upstairs tenant moved out at the end of December… and our second sweet roomie moved in at the end of February. Our Rynn, a world traveling missionary with YWAM, needed a place to live. So we tucked her cozily into the orange bedroom at the top of the stairs, and it will probably be a long time before we can remember to call it anything other than “Rynn’s Room”. She lived with us for eight months, and only just moved out last weekend. (sniff sniff… I halfheartedly tried to convince her to live with us forever…)

I think it is safe to say that Tim and I are “living with sisters” pros by now. Over the past year and a half, we have grown used to soft shuffling noises of footsteps creeping upstairs in the middle of the night, phone calls when keys were forgotten, food left on the counter, dishes in the sink, clothes mysteriously disappearing from my closet… and lots of girlish drama. We have snuggled and comforted sister tears, celebrated sister excitements, nursed sister illnesses, and gave helpful advice to sister worries. 

It's been fun.
 
But now, our little orange bedroom at the top of the stairs is empty. And oddly, we kind of feel like middle aged parents whose kids have flown the nest.

We find ourselves waiting for our little sweetie to come home at night

only to remember she won't be coming home. 

Oh.

Well, what do we do now?
 
Hmmm… I think we’ll start with celebrating our 16 Month Anniversary. 

At home. 

Alone… *wink*

(Happy 16 Months, Husband)

Oh, Happiest Day

Every aspect of Rynn and Caleb’s wedding was dreamy and vintage, 

with a breathless addition of pure romance. 

Each tiny detail was covered with elegance and adoration, 

and nothing entered into the merriment that was not 

deliberately planned and placed among rows of loveliness. 

Happiness was draped in clouds and sunlight, 

surrounding the little church as if it were the center of all things. 

And the grandest event of the day, 

here and across the earth, 

was The Wedding.

  The bride wore her grandmother’s wedding dress. 

A vintage ivory lace gown, over 50 years old, 

in beautiful condition, and a perfect fit for Rynn’s tiny figure. 

Whispers of love seemed to radiate from its seams, 

love from a Grandma who passed away in April 

and only just missed seeing her granddaughter wed. 

 

Bright floral tights peeped from beneath the skirts of the gown 

– a truly Rynn-like hidden secret – 

and high heeled oxfords adorned her pretty little feet. 

Brown tresses were tamed, curled, and pinned 

into a delightfully classic coif.  

(Thanks to her hairdresser, who also happened to be her maid of honor*, 

who also happened to be her photographer**, 

decorator, designer, and sister... That’s me!) 

A gorgeous bouquet of lisianthus and purple stocks

filled her arms with bright blossoms. 

 The Bride and her Maids

She was a breathtaking vision, our sweet girl, 

the most beautiful, dainty little bride that ever existed. 

  The groom was oh, so very handsome. 

Dressed in a vintage vest and hat, he was a thoroughly dashing figure. 

 The Groom and his Men

But, in truth, it was the joy in his eyes when he beheld his bride 

that gave him an extra special radiance. 

Bride and groom together created 

a picture of true love and fairy tale dreams. 

The ceremony was originally going to be held outdoors. 

But, due to a last minute disappointment, 

the location had to be moved indoors. 

And because Rynn had always dreamed of an outdoor wedding, 

we brought the gorgeous autumn leaves and fall foliage inside. 

(The ceremony decorations were all the brilliant idea of our dear friend Gina, 

who is capable of creating anything.) 

Bright trees tipped with fiery leaves were positioned among stumps and dried grasses, 

creating a bower of autumn glory at the altar. 

Enchanting. 

 And when our princess proclaimed 

“This is even better than being married outside! 

It was true.

   

Rynn and Caleb created a beautiful ceremony that was completely unique 

and accurately portrayed the heart of their relationship. 

(I managed to hold back my tears – until I glanced out to see Timmy 

crying in the front row. I love how much he loves my family!)

When two people come as one, 

and you know that it is the Lord who brought them to the altar, 

there is a sacred sense of pure divinity that emanates as vows are spoken. 

God was there, and it was with holy reverence that we watched two souls, 

at the foot of the cross, become husband and wife.

They beamed through the closing words of the ceremony 

and danced back down the aisle as Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson. 

Love was thrown into the skies 

and clung to the laughter dancing in the air. 

There was such celebration in heaven and on earth, 

the moment their happy lips kissed for the first time - 

as husband and wife. 

And there never was a more adorable little married couple.

To Be Continued: The Reception

*I know that I am technically a "matron of honor"... but I'm not a huge fan of the word matron. And so, I am a married maid!

 

**My friend Elizabeth and I did all of the wedding photography. It was a joint adventure, as I was in the bridal party and could not take many of the photos. Elizabeth is amazing and organized and so, so creative - I could not have managed to undertake the photography without her! Thank you, Elizabeth!  

 My heart is caught within a whisper,

nestled in that soft spot between reality and daydreams.

In that place where time cannot touch the thoughts that linger.

Deep in a memory.

There at the altar, is my little girl.

With brown velvet eyes and freckles like kisses 

dancing across her perfect cheeks. 

Her gaze is deep inside his heart

and this is the moment that has been waiting

to happen

her entire life.

This sacred act 

of becoming

who she was meant to be.

She is exquisite and radiant. 

She is glowing.

She is a bride.

Hello, Mrs. Rynn Jacobson

I've been waiting to meet you.

Late Night Phone Call, Part 2

Perhaps Becki did not actually faint, but she certainly felt weak with fright when Tim announced that Apple Café was also placing an after-hour phone call to his cell phone. The doom that had been hovering all night seemed to suddenly descend upon them both. They stood with pale faces and beating hearts, not sure what to do next. 

In the middle of their indecision, another phone call beeped into existence. It was from a rather disreputable friend of his and just as Tim was about to disregard the call and turn his thoughts back to the awful matter at hand… it all suddenly made sense. 

Tim answered the phone with a tone of severity not often heard from those who love him. In the space of two minutes he had heard all he needed to hear. This rascal thought it to be a funny prank, and had been utilizing an application he had downloaded onto his cell phone, enabling him to appear as if he were calling from any number he wished. Tim tried to convey what horrible fright and confusion this ridiculous prank had caused, how the law enforcement officials had been called, how it was not a humorous joke. It is hard to say whether this man was truly repentant, or merely chagrined at such a rebuke. 

“No matter!” Becki cried with relief (She was only very glad to hear that it was not a murdering apparition who had been placing the calls.) But, with a trembling voice she stated, “My Darling, please do not ever invite that scoundrel friend of yours into my house, ever again.” 

Seeing as this is the same rogue who had also somewhat recently toilet papered their home, it would seem that she had a very valid reason to enforce this request. 

The End 

The Mystery of the Late Night Phone Call

It was ten o’clock on a Wednesday night when Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien were comfortably cozy in their bedroom, reviewing the events of the happy day that had just passed. Both parties were clad in warm nightgowns and situated snugly under the covers of their bed. This was their favorite part of the day, when whispered words passed sweetly between two best friends nestled close. 

Unexpectedly, their soft discourse was interrupted by the ringing of Tim’s cellular phone. It seemed rather late for a social call, and they both peered across the bed to where his phone lay on the bedside table. With horror, they both read the bright digital display, “Apple Wellness, 608-663-2640”. 

Tim gaped, “Someone is telephoning us from… the store…?” Becki clutched the covers and murmured “At this hour? Who…?” as Tim answered the call and firmly said “Hello?” There was no response. “Hello?” he said again, more dreadfully this time. Now the noise of typing filtered through the earpiece, as if the very keys were mocking their fear. And then silence - the call ended. Becki screamed. (She immediately pictured a masked terror holding all the little vitamins captive at their store.) Tim shot out of bed, threw on a sweater, and raced about the house in a mad search for the car keys. Becki cried, “Oh, my love, you must call the police!” Tim responded, “We… have… to… get to the store!” Becki hastily exited the bed, threw on a robe and slippers, grabbed her mace, and dashed out to join her husband in their vehicle. (She was ever so slightly triumphant that, at last, she had found a valid use for her pepper spray.) 

Tim punched, “911” into his cell phone as he sped down the drive and onto the shadowy street. A truly terrified wife quietly listened to her husband’s side of the emergency conversation, “6313 McKee Road. Fitchburg. The sign says Apple Nutrition. Yes, I’m the owner. I just received a phone call from my business. It’s ten o’clock at night, sir, and nobody should be there – it is closed. No. Only myself, my wife, and one other trustworthy individual has a key in their possession. Yes, someone called from inside the store. It should be locked! Have you sent a policeman yet? I’m going to be there in four minutes.” 

The following four minutes were spent in tense dialogue. Becki was clutching her mace and shaking with fright. “Promise me, darling, that you will not enter that dark store alone. Oh wait, please wait until the police man comes.” Tim agreed but said he wasn’t worried about her masked theif. “No burglar, my dear, would call the owner to let him know he was pilfering his products.” And there was no argument to that, for it did look to be a dreadfully strange and horrifying drama. The very air seemed heavy with untold horrors and a deep foreboding of doom. It would be safe to say that Becki had never been nearly so terrified in her whole life, and she was dreading the moment of their arrival at the store. What would they find? Who had gained entry into their securely locked business? And why?

When they pulled up, all was dark within. No signs of forced entry were evident, and no burglary was visible. The police arrived shortly behind them, and Tim unlocked the doors and entered the store behind them. Becki remained in the car, for the sake of her nerves. Twenty long minutes later, her husband and the officers vacated the store and locked the door behind them. As Mr. O’Brien slid into the driver’s seat, he hurriedly explained that nothing appeared to be stolen and that they found no traces of someone being there. The police had weakly suggested a glitch in the phone system - in an attempt to explain the unpleasant puzzle. Nobody had any idea how or why a person could have gotten into the store in the first place, nor why this person would have called the owner once entry had been gained. (Becki secretly entertained the idea that perhaps it had been a phantom – but she did not suggest it, for she knew Tim would only say “posh” and disregard the thought.) The tired couple called friends and family, hoping to shed light on the horrible situation, without luck. They arrived home and searched the house, upon Becki’s request. (She had it in her mind that perhaps an evil someone had intentionally called to guarantee their evacuation, thus enabling killers to sneak in and lay in wait for their return.) Many minutes were spent in stressful reflections, but nothing could solve the mysterious conundrum, and each second brought Becki closer and closer to despair. Tim, for his part, was no better. In the midst of her misery, Becki recognized that she had never seen his face so white, nor his voice so shaky. 

 

It was as Tim was speaking to his elder brother (whom he had, unfortunately, roused from slumber) and pacing across the kitchen floor that the second horror of the night occurred. A beep in his ear alerted him that another call was coming in. This time the display read, “Apple Café – 608-831-2640” All Becki could hear from the bedroom (before she fainted) was a shriek of fright and “Mrs. O’Brien! They are calling from the café now! It must be a crazed murderer!  

Oh, Oh! They’re typing, they’re typing…”

*to be continued*

Note: This story is entirely, terrifically true.

Believe Me.

Two years ago today

when we finally spoke aloud

the thought that had been hovering between us

for three happy months.

"We're going to get married."

We knew.

So we set the date

for a wedding in June.

And today we celebrate

October 13, 2008

"Decision Day"

Happy Two Years of Knowing.

Believe me when I say

I've loved you from the start.

 

Farewell, little pumpkin.

They say it’s your birthday. 

 

So, close your eyes and make a wish. 
 

I know you’ll share it with me, because your heart tells me everything. 
 

Twenty six candles are dancing.
 

Small things to represent twenty six years of living.

 

Of dreaming and loving.
 

And of falling in love with me. 

 

I have only known you for three years.

 

But I am going to claim all twenty six candles.
 

Because I’m the only one on earth who knows.
 

Knows what your very first birthday wish was.

 

The day you were born, twenty six years ago.

You were born wishing a wish. 
 

I know because your heart told me.

And with me beside you in the birthday candle light
 
Aren’t you glad it came true?

 

Happy Birthday, Husband. 

(I love and love you.)

*yesterday was Timmy's birthday day celebration - complete with pancakes (I finally mastered how to flip them - let Timmy do it!), a pajama morning, shopping for treasures with birthday money (thanks Mom, Daddy & Grandma!), home made Indian curry for dinner, a walk in the dark, a Barnes & Noble expedition, and cookies and ice cream for a birthday desert.

Dear Blog World,

I'm sick. 

I have been snuggling on the futon in the back room 

of our store for the past two days.  

I attempted work twice, and was sent home twice.  

So here I sit. 

I am trying to stifle my coughing, 

because being sick is bad for business. 

And I don't want to scare any customers off 

with my sneezing/coughing/moaning. 

Being sick usually makes me antsy, 

because I definitely feel like I should be using 

any "free time" I get to accomplish 

something grand.

But today has been a good sick day.

The following is a compilation of the

grand things

I accomplished today - despite feeling miserable.

I designed our newest marketing material for Apple Wellness:

I took a long nap.

I caught up on my blog reading.

I had a really good idea. 

I talked to my mom.

I felt very proud when three customers

brought in their Columbus Day coupons.

I taste tested several types of granola and two flavors of iced tea...

I took my vitamins.

I hid from customers.

I let Timmy pamper and sing

"Happy 27 Months" to me… 

(we've been together 27 months now!)

I finished Rynn's wedding programs.

(finally)

 (here's the front)

And I got to spend the whole day with my lovey.

It's been a good sick day.

… what our pumpkins became.

 happiest Autumn!

Sunday was a good day for an adventure, so we had one.  
The four of us made a merry group of fall-loving friends. 
And by the four of us, 
 I mean Rynn, Caleb, Timmy, and I. 

 

See how happy we are?

That is because, somehow, we all managed to end up exactly where we belong in life - with each other. All together in one place. It is a pretty thought to ponder that Timmy and Caleb were destined to fall in love with myself and Rynn, respectively, and fit perfectly into their places in our family. And by doing so, they became brothers and best friends, married to two sisters who are also best friends. And this is when our group gets delightfully complicated with sweet undercurrents of extra love and adoration mixed and mingled between the four of us.

 

 Rynn loves Caleb, and Caleb loves Timmy, 
and Timmy loves me, I love Rynn, 

and we all love pumpkins.