My fifth and youngest son, Caleb (age 7), came to me with a very concerned expression on his face, and I knew exactly what he was going to say. He had been upstairs watching some old videos with his brothers. My third son, Joel (age 12), was doing a science project on the Plainfield, IL tornado that hit in the summer of 1990. I told him that I had actual footage of the destruction because a very good friend of mine lost her house in that storm. He wanted to see it.
Joel got out an old box of video tapes, and before I knew it, my entire family was sitting around a 12" TV screen (it was the only one in the house with a working VCR). They watched the tornado, Nate (my firstborn and now 18-years-old) learning to walk, Joel and Adam (my fourth son, now age 10) when they were still in diapers. For some reason, there were no tapes of Luke (our second son who is now 17), but I think there are tapes of him somewhere, they just weren't in that box for some reason.
Caleb is another story. I regret to say, I do not have any videos of Caleb. I barely have any pictures of the poor boy. When he was born, I had four active boys to care for and they were ages 11, 10, 4, and 2. My husband Ron and I had just started to build a new house out in the country that we were doing a lot of the work on ourselves, and we had sold the home we lived in and were temporarily living with family. The boys and I had moved a hundred miles away to stay with my dad for the summer. Ron moved in with his dad and step-mom because they lived close to his work.
I barely had the resources to maintain my sanity let alone worry about video taping any portion of my life at that time. We are all blessed to have survived. My dad had a tiny house (under a thousand square feet) and he had been a widower at that time for nearly a decade. He certainly wasn't accustomed to five boys circling an endless trail of Matchbox cars around his feet.
I remember once when I had taken the boys to the grocery store while staying with my dad, and my son Joel (four-years-old at the time) was struggling to bring in a gallon of milk. It looked nearly as big as he was, and I could see that he was about to lose it. Too late. I was holding Caleb who was a newborn, and I had three or four plastic grocery bags around my wrist cutting off the blood supply to the fingers. Thump, gush, and glug, glug, glug, every ounce of milk came crashing to the floor and was immediately absorbed in the dining room rug. UGH!
My dad slept in the garage that night.
Joel got out an old box of video tapes, and before I knew it, my entire family was sitting around a 12" TV screen (it was the only one in the house with a working VCR). They watched the tornado, Nate (my firstborn and now 18-years-old) learning to walk, Joel and Adam (my fourth son, now age 10) when they were still in diapers. For some reason, there were no tapes of Luke (our second son who is now 17), but I think there are tapes of him somewhere, they just weren't in that box for some reason.
Caleb is another story. I regret to say, I do not have any videos of Caleb. I barely have any pictures of the poor boy. When he was born, I had four active boys to care for and they were ages 11, 10, 4, and 2. My husband Ron and I had just started to build a new house out in the country that we were doing a lot of the work on ourselves, and we had sold the home we lived in and were temporarily living with family. The boys and I had moved a hundred miles away to stay with my dad for the summer. Ron moved in with his dad and step-mom because they lived close to his work.
I barely had the resources to maintain my sanity let alone worry about video taping any portion of my life at that time. We are all blessed to have survived. My dad had a tiny house (under a thousand square feet) and he had been a widower at that time for nearly a decade. He certainly wasn't accustomed to five boys circling an endless trail of Matchbox cars around his feet.
I remember once when I had taken the boys to the grocery store while staying with my dad, and my son Joel (four-years-old at the time) was struggling to bring in a gallon of milk. It looked nearly as big as he was, and I could see that he was about to lose it. Too late. I was holding Caleb who was a newborn, and I had three or four plastic grocery bags around my wrist cutting off the blood supply to the fingers. Thump, gush, and glug, glug, glug, every ounce of milk came crashing to the floor and was immediately absorbed in the dining room rug. UGH!
My dad slept in the garage that night.
Thankfully, his dining room had wood floors and we were able to quickly get the area rug out of the house and sop up the milk before it damaged the floors. The rug was thoroughly rinsed and left outside on the deck to dry.
Fast-forward seven years to 2009 and little Caleb with his question about where the video tapes are of him. Well, I was VERY tempted to tell him that we had lots and lots of tapes of him, but a big bad tornado came and swept them all away. But, instead, I told him that we will make some new tapes of him now that we can look back on sometime down the road. I better stick to my promise and dust off our video camera!!
Caleb didn't look very satisfied with my answer, but all I can do is trust that he will understand someday when he becomes a parent. I was the baby in my family too and there weren't many pictures of me. I get it now!
Fast-forward seven years to 2009 and little Caleb with his question about where the video tapes are of him. Well, I was VERY tempted to tell him that we had lots and lots of tapes of him, but a big bad tornado came and swept them all away. But, instead, I told him that we will make some new tapes of him now that we can look back on sometime down the road. I better stick to my promise and dust off our video camera!!
Caleb didn't look very satisfied with my answer, but all I can do is trust that he will understand someday when he becomes a parent. I was the baby in my family too and there weren't many pictures of me. I get it now!
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