Friendly Duet.

Anniversaries - We Remember.

We share lots of things, on this day 37 years ago Tom and Barbara got married. On this day 4 years ago Tom and Andie got engaged. 11 years ago today, James and I met. And 8 years ago today, he proposed to me.

Lots of love, lots of unique memories and shared memories. How different life would be without the love that fills it.

Happy Birthday Andie!

Andie turns the big 3-0 today! I would post all the naked pictures I have of her dancing on tables and doing shots, but this is a family blog. So we'll just wish her a wonderful day and you can imagine the pictures (that's almost worse than posting nude pics).

OK, this is striptease MN style!

For your birthday, I hope you get everything that you want. You are a gift to us 365 days a year.

XOXOXO,
The MN Dougherty's

Who Are You?

So it seems like time for one of those "baseline" posts where I remind the children of all those things they put us through when they were little. Running naked through the house (Seamus) and skinning his butt on the stairs (this morning). Finn sending me all through the house looking for the "yiddle doggy" only to discover it under his pillow (a few minutes ago), and of course fishing "rocks" out of the bath tub that MJ deposited while bathing with Finn last week. A shower for Finn and a lot of bleach later we are none the worse for wear, but I do see these family moments once vivid, start to fade away into the mundane goings on of life.

I think we probably forget more than we remember, but its the simple act of carrying on, tucking in, wiping off, picking up and sitting down that fills up the journey. I know I've lost so many wonderful moments, things I'll forget to tell James or my mom, those soft times when you are so filled with hope or love or pride, that disappear into the whirlwind of rushing out the door, or fixing whatever just broke, or making dinner on time.

I take comfort in knowing that while these memories may disappear, our lives and loves are built on the remnants of forgotten specifics - layers of happy feelings, warmed hearts, thicker skin. I guess its our ability to be casual about something that makes it part of us. I suppose that's where the blogging began for me - an easy way to capture these moments as they pass by. So here's a little snippet of what I do know about each of you so far:

Seamus you are our lighthearted boy, who has spent quite a bit of time lately feeling heavy hearted. It is so hard for us to watch. When uncle Tom died you were so comforting to dad, to grandpa, to everyone really. This time you've needed your own comfort. You are old enough to be hurt by loss, but I also hope you are old enough to retain some wonderful memories. Like crabbing with Grandpa, seeing the shark, all of Grandpa's cool treats - the Russian hats, the spoons and pans, the little lights, the Secret Service coins. You may not understand that as much fun as you had (and continue to have) with those things, Grandpa had more fun watching you. He was at his best as a Grandfather at Christmas this year, showering love and lapping it up himself.

Katie is reading you the 4th Harry Potter - I think you love being in her arms more than you're enjoying the story right now. She is your special friend - and I think you are hers.

You and Finn chase each other around like lunatics, but you also play so nicely together. You've gotten to the point where you will help Finn reach things, or find things without being asked or told. You are showing him how to be a good big brother by learning yourself.

You are into rocking out. Lots of rocking out. Singing. Dancing. Poutty air-guitar playing. This morning I said I had a special treat for you - you asked if it was a drum set (it was hot chocolate). You take on everything with open arms, a big grin and a willingness to laugh at yourself. All wonderful qualities I must say.

Mr. Finn. We've been feeling a little sad for you - mostly because you are 100% Dougherty and you would have had special relationships with Uncle Tom and Grandpa. But I don't doubt that you still will - it's just not in the way we had planned.

You have grown up so much in the last 6 months. You're into bigger kid things - you've soften a little bit - like you adore hugs, cuddles and kisses now. You don't always have to be the tough guy. In fact you demand "rub my back" on a regular basis - which clearly has little to do with back rubbing and more to do with extra cuddles and love. Sometimes you offer to rub our backs too - and I think its so endearing - you're just trying to do something nice - and that always feels good.

You love everything Playmobile - you'll sit at the dining room table for hours playing with the little guys and their swords, horses, and tiny guns. You've got pirates, cowboys and knights all interacting around the candlesticks and center piece. I usually have no idea what you're imagining but you do have an engrossing imagination.

I'm also thinking about calling you Noah - because you can usually be found with a menagerie of animals (usually oddly enough in twos). You actually did find a boat and have been using it as your animal carrying case. Last night you wanted to bring your animals into the bathtub (you have very clean toys). You couldn't find them in your room and so you yelled down the stairs at me: "Oh NO! Mamma, animals ran away!" Fortunately aunt Katie found them in the basement - but even you thought you were a little funny.

You've got a little demon in you too and it's hard not to laugh at you sometimes. When you've done something naughty, you've got a great grimace/grin that says "Look at this face? How can you be mad?" And it's everything in us to stick to our guns.

Little Miss MJ. You are early on still in your exploits career, but all the same you're having fun and on the move. While we were in New Jersey you started pulling yourself up on just about anything - now you're starting to pull yourself along the funiture - but you prefer being on your tummy moving like lightening. You have a huge smile - it makes you look like Finn - and most of the time you are smiling.

You still seem like such a peanut to me and I am grateful that even though this year went fast, we all reveled in your "baby-ness". In fact the highlight of Christmas for me was when Grandma and Grandpa arrived and Grandpa ran to pull out his box of treasure. While he was watching the boys dig through the box, I walked in carrying you and Grandpa said to me: "Give me that girl - give me my girl." He smiled and snuggled you, just enjoying so fully being with you kids. And it just filled me up. He'd come along way as a Grandpa - when Seamus was born he was nervous about holding him - by the time you came around he was all settled in. His time was brief, but his love was full.

I am continually surprised by the daily life of parenting - I would have said that having a daughter wouldn't be any different than having boys - but now 9 months in - I will say it is a little different. Mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, we all have unique relationships. I certainly don't mean one is better than the others - but knowing that there are differences enhances all of them. I am reveling in having a daughter. And so is dad.

You don't know what you need sometimes until it comes into your life, and we didn't know how much we needed these little beings. In all the messiness of family life, we are grateful for all we are learning from each of you and for each moment we have together - even if the memory sometimes slowly slips away - the love never does.

Boys on a Plane!

Cathy sent me a few pictures of the boys on their journey home with she and Chris. They gave the boys two nutcrackers which the kids are still sleeping with (not exactly cuddly objects - but certainly beloved).

Who Loves Daddy?

We do! Do these mugs look familiar? Breakfast is better with dad to share it!

Loving and missing you tons! Hope you're having a little fun - and we want you to promise to bring the warm weather back with you!

Also - a BIG happy Monday to Aunt Katie on her first day at her new job! We love you and know that you're already doing great!

Cold Feet?

It was -10 here this morning. Good God. This is how Finn has look for the last two hours...

Who Loves Grandma?

WE DO!

Here's a little montage - the ones from our kitchen are the boys and Katie rocking out big time - there has been a lot of serious rocking out lately - the boys can hum a number of Zeppelin tunes....

The one of Finn and MJ - note the blur at the bottom - that's Seamus jumping over them mid picture...

Ruminations

So I've been ruminating about a lot of things these last two weeks, thinking about how we'll talk to the kids when they're older about the events of the last year. I wonder all the time how much Seamus will remember - how all of this affects kids even when they don't have formal memories. And one of the hardest things for me to accept is that for the first time I've felt an absence of God at times. I've felt empty, cried out, exhausted and fearful. It's a bit hard to admit, but it is the truth. I've had a hard time wanting to try and focus in mass, I couldn't tell you what the homily was about at Tom's funeral, I couldn't really listen.

This doesn't mean we haven't been praying. Every night before we go to sleep, James and I say a prayer together, reflecting over the day, our blessings and our future. And that act has helped us, to relax, to let go, to refocus. But I've found myself a little angry during the day. Angry about what we've lost, angry that I know this isn't the last heartbreak, for the first time I think I really saw that life is as much about loss as it is about love. I've been wondering how God thinks we're going to get through this - and whatever else comes our way. I cannot look at the sorrow on James's face, or know the heartache in Katie's chest, or frankly even think about Andie and Barbara without feeling truly helpless and a little sick. I've been trying to be really positive, but I just haven't felt it.

Yesterday while I was feeling a little desperate and maybe a little sorry for myself, I had a quiet moment of renewed Grace. I was thinking about the things I've learned in the last year.

• There is no right thing to say when someone dies. Send a card, a note, flowers, memorials, don't try and say the right thing, just let them know you care and you're available.
  
• Relaying your own horror story doesn't help people feel better - they know they are not alone in their suffering, but having to bare yours too is just too much at the beginning.
  
• Ask people how they are - take the moment to give someone the opportunity to talk or to move on. Really care. Really listen. You never know how "Are you OK?" might change the future. James helped save a neighbor's life about 6 weeks ago because he paused and asked if he was OK and then stayed with him and called an ambulance. He has a wife and three daughters who had a husband and father at Christmas.
  
• Grief makes people tired and feel like they aren't themselves. Sometime I look at James and he looks winded - like he's running a race.
  
• You cannot reinvent your past, the choices in your history are just history. Today's opportunities are the only things that really counts.
  
• We all need help. No one can get by alone.
  
• Be gentle with yourself and the people around you - we're all doing the best we can - and sometimes it isn't enough, but sometimes it is.
• When someone asks you for help, don't hesitate, say yes. You can always figure out the logistics, but sometimes all the other person need to hear is "yes". It is probably harder for the person to ask for help than it is for you to do the favor.
  
• If someone shows up at your front door unexpectedly, maybe God thinks you need a push in the right direction.
  
• Just when you think God's on vacation, you realize that a robed man with a beard and a Shepard's pole is for illustrated children's books. In my experience there is no lightening bolt, no burning bushes. God's hands are in people who show up to stand behind you, beside you and if need be, to carry you when you cannot bare it yourself.
  

And I thought about all the help we've received and been offered, all the people who have arrived at the kitchen door with chili (Tracy), lasagna (Eli), pizza (Bridget), chicken (Teresa), pasta (Erin), and chicken noodle soup (Paula). Our core babysitter, Lisa, brought over cookies and wouldn't take any money on Saturday night when she babysat. She's a junior in high school and she told James, 'I just thought you needed a night out'. And all the people who I can tell are heartbroken for us - when you talk to someone and you can tell they just bleed for you - somehow that's comforting.

And that's where my moment of Grace happened. I felt stronger. I don't mean to make it sound like I'm wrapping up grief neatly - sadness and loss are very messy stuff - but I'm starting to remember that the hand of God is covered in the love of the people around you. And the only way forward is to receive Grace when it shows up or calls and to be Grace when you know you can.

Our Blessings (getting clean)

We had a hard time getting a picture with everyone looking, no one flashing and no one drowning. So here's our best look at a little Dougherty Grandkid Stew....My favorite is the picture where Connor, MJ and Finn are all standing up - you can see Connor is closer in size to Finn than MJ. In all the sadness, the kids have again provided lots of reasons to laugh and smile, especially watching Connor and MJ grow so fast this year. MJ's new trick is that she can climb up two of our stairs - then she gets stuck and screams. Very fun.

Prayer for Tom on his Birthday

The winter will lose its cold,
as the snow will be without whiteness,
The night without darkness,
the heavens without stars,
the day without light,
The flower will lose its beauty,
all fountains their water,
the sea its fish,
the tree its birds,
the forest its beasts,
the earth its harvest -
All these things will pass before
anyone breaks the bonds of our love,
And before I cease caring for you in my heart.
May your days be happy in number as flakes of snow,
May your nights be peaceful,
and may you be without troubles.

france - matthew of rievaulx - 13th century

Today would have been Tom's 33rd birthday.
We hold you tightly in our hearts, and we trust in faith that you still feel our love, share our joys and will help us with our sorrow.

James's Eulogy for his Dad

At the funeral James spoke on behalf of the family and several of you have asked to read it. He did a remarkable job reflecting on his dad - I've never been more proud in my life...

For those of you that don't know me, I'm James Dougherty, Tom's son. On behalf of my mother and whole Dougherty family, thank you for your prayers and presence here today.

My job is to speak of Dad and boil down his experience into some really important points. It's not an easy job - my Dad was a complex guy. The words that come to mind, "character", "integrity", "love", "family", "strength" - don't seem to cut it. I pulled together a list of truths about dad- hoping that it will help me with this challenge. I know that Dad had unique relationships with his Pershing rifle buddies, secret service friends and FDA friends, his siblings, in-laws, kids, and his wife - I hope these few thoughts do justice to those complex relationships.

• If you're a stranger who happened to be sitting on a plane next to Dad - he could avoid answering questions about his job for an infinite amount of time.
• Dad was really big on giving advice. Lots of it. Whether you asked for it or not. It wasn't until we were older that we realized that we should actually be listening. But, according to Katie, "He honored and respected our choices, even if he disagreed with them"
• He had an impressive gift with sarcasm - really a great sense of humor. It achieved a level of wit wizardry that has left all of us aspiring to someday achieve sarcasm zen mastery. Andie is Dad's most promising new student of the Dougherty sarcasm.
• Dad invented having a beer at lunch while on vacation. He savored that beer with a sandwich and a newspaper in a way that made it look majestic.
• We always thought dad was a straight A student - it took me until jr year of college to find out that his 3 credit ROTC class is what kept him above a C average. Seems like a smart tactic - since all of us were successful in college - Katie even got a masters degree.
• He and Katie shared a love of history, books, and the privilege that daddy's girl provides. I always loved to talk with him about katie - his voice noticeably softened - he loved her so much. I guess Dads love their daughters just a little bit differently.
• He was just like his Dad with his son's wives (Andie and Anne) - he was gifted at welcoming them into the family with a special word, hug, or box from Tiffany's. For a guy who wasn't known for being chatty, he always had the right thing to say to them. He made two things clear - 1) he loved them 2) he knew how to make them feel special.
• Newspaper and magazine clippings - he was always cutting articles out and laying them on our beds or mailing them off with a very brief note. Saying something like "thought you might appreciate this....or this sounds like your situation..."
• In the last few years, he lost both of his parents and he was really sad. But the time spent with his family sorting out affairs made it tremendously clear just how much my Dad loved his siblings (Mike, Marion, and John) and how strong they were. While my brother, Tom, passed last March - I'm already overwhelmed with love for my sister, Katie, as we go through this process.
• He was already a gifted grandpa. My 2 yr old, Finn, wanted nothing to do with anybody but Grandpa. Each night, Seamus would pray for everybody. Mom, dad, gma, gpa, uncle tom, katie, andie, connor, stuffed animals, imaginary friends, etc. Finn - grandpa. I'd ask "Anybody else, finn?" Grandpa. He was like the pied piper of grandpas. My brother had a similar quality....
• When we came back to visit, Dad would create a Lobster and clam bake on the deck. It was a feast invented by Dad that was so perfect - lobsters lovingly selected, clams from the particular clam shop, corn on the cob. I've never experienced a meal that was such a perfect marriage between our family, his loves of the deck and the outdoors, and great local food. Great memories.....
• Dad had done a lot of cool things, been a lot of interesting places, but for a long time he was not real big on sharing this coveted information. While that proved frustrating at times - it did make it that much more powerful when he finally shared that tidbit (new story about Nixon, funny army story).
• He always won at Trivial Pursuit. Always. Yet he never seemed to like playing. Quite a paradox.
• While he fished at Sandy Hook pretty often, he often commented that he had no idea what he would do if he actually caught a fish.
• When he came back from a run outside, or a bike ride on sandy hook, or a kayak in the shrewsbury river - he always had a big smile on his face.
• He loved my Mom in such a special way. He wasn't gifted at Valentine's day - or anniversaries.....or even birthdays or christmas. But he would show up with flowers at unexpected times...he would fill the empty vase...he would restock the thing my Mom loved when she wanted it the most. His knack was to anticipate what my Mom wanted, then provide it at the time of maximum impact. It wasn't perfect - but I think that is what makes it so obviously an act of love. As my Mom says - he was perfect for her.
• He always said "I love you" - to my Mom, my sister, and Tom and I's wives. He also gave spectacular hugs.
  

I want to be like that.

My Dad was not long winded - so I'm going to wrap up here. We've faced tragedy twice recently - with the death of my brother Tom last March and now with my Dad. We don't know what to do. We've also received two beautiful gifts with MJ and Connor's birth. To take the lead from my sister's Eulogy of my brother - let's plan to honor Dad by remembering all the fun he shared, the life lessons he provided, the advice he gave - and making sure his grandkids hear and know all about them. Let's plan on copying his generosity and selflessness everyday by caring for each other, his grandkids, his brothers and sisters, and our Mom. We ask for your help in keeping this promise and reminding us of Dad's grace in our lives.

There are no words.

On January 6th, James and Katie's beloved dad passed away suddenly at the age of 59. All six of us were on a plane to be with Barbara in less than two hours. Andie & Connor arrived in New Jersey a few hours later. We buried him on the 10th. James and I just got home yesterday. Kate is spending another week or so with their mom before she comes home and starts her new job. We are all at a loss for words and pretty drained of energy, but we are so grateful for the time we all had together over the holiday.

I wanted to get something posted today, but I just don't have anything to say. We all loved him so much and I guess just weren't ready to face heartbreak like this again. Here are some photos of our precious last trip with him. He was so good over Christmas - so happy again for the first time in a long time. We treasured everything.

Even though we feel crushed, we are still grateful for all the friendship and love in our lives. We have so many 'thank yous' to be said but for right now, all I can say is that I don't know what we would have done without my parents, Chris & Cathy and Bob and Paula. I can't even begin to think about our debt to them. Paula keeps telling me "that's what friends are for" but the truth is so much more complicated. It isn't what friends are for - Sweetheart, its what angels are for. I don't know that we could have gotten through the last few days with out all the help we received.