The Pathway Blog

A Faded Memory

      Life was good growing up on the small Iowa farm, but when Peggy was 17, she was anxious to get started on a new adventure.  Having graduated Creston High School, she planned to go to college and become a teacher.  But two years into her studies, Peggy’s drive for excitement drove her onto the FBI’s most wanted list.  Not because she was a criminal, but because they wanted to give her a job.  They sent Peggy off to Washington DC, where she quickly became accustomed to the big city life.

     It was during this time that she became connected with the French Embassy and began working for them.  After two weeks on the job in Washington DC, they sent her to their new location in New York City, where once again, Peggy flourished. 

     But even the excitement of the FBI and embassy work wasn’t enough for Peggy.  She decided to move back to Des Moines, where she would eventually meet her future husband and finish her business degree (graduating with honors).

     While in Des Moines, Peggy stayed at the home of a renowned brain surgeon.  One night, the doorbell rang, and standing at the door was the director of the Commission for the Blind, who had heard of Peggy and had come to recruit her to work.  Peggy agreed.

     By the time Peggy was in her mid-twenties, she had experienced more than many people do their entire lives!  Even after marriage, her adventure continued.  Together, they owned and operated a small business (Lambert’s Dairy, in Des Moines), they were real estate agents in their own company, and she went on to sell everything from cosmetics to cemetery plots, to advertising and every kind of insurance imaginable (usually outselling the guys on her team).  She even won a trip to Hawaii once for selling an exorbitant amount of Christmas items in a part-time sales job.

     Peggy eventually retired from the government after working several years for HUD and the Veteran’s Hospital in Des Moines.  In everything Peggy has done, she has always done it with all her might and with a commitment to excellence.  This has been true not only with her long adventurous career in the workforce, but at home as well.

     After loosing a six-year-old daughter to leukemia and a son shortly after birth, Peggy managed to successfully raise three boys.  Three boys who share her desire to do something “big” and to make an impact in their world.  While some people know her at Peggy, and some know her as Bernice, I know her only as Mom, and I will forever be grateful for the adventurous path she got me started on.

     These days the excitement of her past experiences are fading quickly.  She has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease and her world is getting smaller and smaller day-by-day.  While it hurts to watch my mom slowly fade away, there is comfort in knowing that she is very happy and she has passed on an amazing heritage to my family and me.

     It has become my part-time job to manger her finances, take care of her medicines and watch out for her general wellbeing.  I have become her father.  While Mom will probably never read this, and if she did, she would immediately forget it, I just wanted to let the world know that I am the luckiest guy in the world and am honored to be playing the role I now play in her life.  I love you Mom!

The End of an Era

I never thought it would be so hard to say good-bye; never dreamt it would affect our family in such a way. But sure enough, only a few months into our journey, we felt the gut-wrenching pain of our daughter being pulled out of our arms from a woman in uniform.

          It all started when a good friend told us she knew of a student from Thailand who was looking for a Christian home for the school year.  I had always thought it would be a great experience to have a foreign exchange student and immediately fell in love with the idea. So I turned on the charm and began the process of suggesting the proposal to my wife, Cheryl.

          Being the more intelligent one of the family, Cheryl was hesitant.  We had a six-year-old daughter and were expecting a newborn in January.  There was no room in our tiny trailer-sized house for one more person, and our car was already crowded.  And what could possibly have possessed me to think that being such young parents our selves, we had the qualifications to deal with a teenager; especially one from another culture who could barely speak our language?

        Nitiporn Titinitikul, "Yui" arrived at our home a few weeks later (so much for logic).  She was 14 years old and a bit scared.   Our first meal together was pizza.  Great idea, except cheese gives her headaches.   Our next meal was an "experiment."  It failed.  She cried.  Mom cried.  I quickly made myself "busy" at work.

          As the weeks went by, the language barrier slowly eroded.  Yui was beginning to make friends at church and school and was slowly starting to become one of the family.  The weeks quickly became months and we watched her grow from a scared little girl into a beautiful young lady.  But I have to admit, there were times we wondered about our decision to become a host family. 

          All doubts about our decision were removed when the countdown for Yui’s departure began.  With only a few weeks to go, we began to realize that our family was nearing the end of an era.  Family time became more and more precious.   Conversations were becoming more personal and sentimental.  The idea of Yui leaving permanently began slowly eating away at our souls.  In a matter of months, Yui had become a full-fledged member of the family.

          The day Yui left for Thailand I had planned a sermon about developing strong relationships with your children.  At the time I planned the series, it seemed like a great idea, but what was I thinking picking a topic like that on a day I was saying good-bye to my oldest daughter?  There were times during the talk I almost broke down.  It didn’t happen, but others weren’t so fortunate.  Yui had become a part of the church family as well.

          A few short hours later, we saw Yui off at the airport.  She grabbed on to her six-month-old sister, Shana, and held on tight.  If it wasn’t for the flight attendants making their last call for boarding the plane, the moment would have lasted longer.  But it was time to go; the end of an era.

          It has been over ten years since we parted ways, but Yui is still a big part of our lives.  We have talked on the phone, corresponded via e-mail, and with modern day technology, have begun having video conversations over the internet. 

          During these past ten years, I have been constantly reminded of the valuable lessons I learned by having Yui in our home.  I am reminded of the importance of giving priority to my family relationships.  My oldest biological daughter is entering her senior year of high school and is planning to go to college hundreds of miles away.  I only have eight more years with my ten-year-old in my home.  In the blink of an eye, both will be gone and in each case, it will be the end of an era for our family. 

          With that in mind, I do everything in my power, now, while they are still young, to create special memories and develop strong relationships.  I go out of my way to spend time with them now; after all, later will be too late.