Bienvenidos

Coming back from vacation can feel like a fresh start - when we walked in the front door, everything looked new to me since I hadn't seen it in nearly three weeks. The break from the day-to-day tasks also renewed my desire to keep house - it's amazing how useless one can feel with no laundry to do, kitchen to clean, etc. (I did try to help around the house on vacation - but it's always hard in someone else's house to know how things are done!).

Baby on a plane

Now that I am back, with no studies to stress about, I can finally turn my attention to my life! The real things of life that I have so missed: making a home, beginning to quilt and sew again, running. Mr. Oram and I frequently talk about how we always seem to have excuses for why we're putting life 'on hold', endless reasons why we don't establish routines - we don't have a baby yet, we're pregnant, we have a newborn, we have an infant, we have a baby that's into everything, studying for the Bar, it's the summer, it's football season, it's busy season...we are endlessly creative! 

But at some point, we just have to bite the bullet and make the life we want.

Blurry mama and baby picture. We had the middle seat empty - praise God. 

It is still mind-boggling to me that in the first year of our marriage, when we were childless, I really seemed to do nothing about the house. I have come to the conclusion that those long months were a sort of delayed depression and near-comatose state wherein I recovered from eight consecutive years of higher education and then the tornado that ate my house. 

But still, in retrospect, I wonder - why didn't I paint the walls? Recover furniture? Organize my linen closets? All the many things I'm doing now. I suppose I am nesting in reverse - the older she gets, the more I want to do to make this a beautiful home. 

A very enjoyable afternoon at the lake shore, with Zuzu styling in clothes entirely provided by Grand. 

I am finding my way. I am so grateful for the guidance of both my peers an the generations before me. My own mother being here this summer was an incredible gift; not only because it was another pair of hands to do everything I couldn't, but also to see how she did it. The sad thing is that I went straight from adolescence (living at home, being cared for, having nothing truly valuable) to being in college (barely taking care of myself) to being a young wife (suddenly having to take care of two people, with many valuable and nice things, none of which I know how to care for). Thankfully, between my mom and Auntie Leila and this really weird but aptly named Project Organize Your Entire Life (POYEL), I might actually have some order in my home...in another year (if I don't get pregnant and we start living in a hotel).

Isn't she just the preppiest? She gives you an insight into my clothing preference, I'm sure. 

Beyond house care, self care is also a new learning curve for me. Gone are the days where I had two hours to get ready, when I had a whole closet or room or more to myself and my clutter, when I did not have to worry about nursing accessibility in my clothing! Laura has truly inspired me to be more mindful of my wardrobe. Throughout the summer, I have been weeding out my closet and being more confident in buying nice pieces that will last a long time. It's hard to be honest with what works and what doesn't, but I cannot keep items for sentimental value alone - at least, not so many items! 

Auntie Leila again did me a great service by discussing self-care in her aptly titled "How To Take a Shower" (more useful than you'd think). For a very long time, it has been a deeply held belief of mine that I am a long hair person. My hair became part of my personality, I couldn't imagine having short hair (again). I think it has something to do with my insecurity about my weight. But then I cut it and have found, shockingly and suddenly, that I love it. It's not that it's necessarily easier, but that it just seems to work for me more at this point in time. 

Visiting Grandma Jean. These moments were very precious to me, since none of my grandparents ever got to meet Susannah. 

Over vacation I also read five books, believing it was high time I stopped neglecting my mind by shoving heartless facts into it. I read My Life with the Saints, The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything: A Spirituality for Real Life, Corelli's Mandolin: A Novel, Brain Rules for Baby: How to Raise a Smart and Happy Child from Zero to Five, and Real Learning: Education in the Heart of the Home.

The first two books are by a Jesuit priest, Fr. James Martin. I was pleasantly surprised by My Life with the Saints - it was quite moving at times, and a thoughtful gift from my sister-in-law. The Jesuit Guide was, however, a struggle. I am angry at the Jesuits, honestly, for promoting heresy and allowing their house to get so out of order. I associate them with Georgetown and it makes my blood boil. 

Brain Rules is a fun read, confirming what most people know: television does in fact rot the brain, those Baby Einstein DVDs are total crap, and being involved emotionally with your children is a really good way to have well-adjusted kids in the long term. Still worth a read though - lots of great stuff in there. 

The two greatest gems were by far Real Learning and Corelli's Mandolin (one of Mr. Oram's favorite books that I've been meaning to read since 2009!). Real Learning is about Catholic homeschooling in the Charlotte Mason style - it combines how-to with an exhortation about why-to. It was glorious; Elizabeth Foss is one of the few bloggers today that can be realistic and idealistic, which is a highly motivating combo for me. I thoroughly enjoyed and recommend the book. Corelli's Mandolin...what can  I say about this book. The vocabulary quite surprised me - I needed a dictionary to accompany it! The humor was delightful - but the story. The story slayed me. I have not read fiction that good is so long, my heart wanted to burst. It gave me that 'queer ache' that Anne talks about...it reminded me why I love reading. 

If you have the chance, read that book. It will also explain to you why communism it total crap, incidentally.

Being silly at a baseball game

Cousin love

But now I'm home and Zuzu is sick (again). She got sick on vacation, got better, and is now sick again. We had a long night last night. Would you say a few prayers for her? 

So glad to be back - I've missed y'all! 

Theology of Baby

Today we had a great time on our first day post-Bar exam.
A huge weight has been lifted and I got to spend the whole day with my babe AND my husband - oh the luxury! We went to the Tampa Aquarium, spent some time at their water park, then back to the hotel for naps, and then to a friend's house for dinner with a whole group of awesome people. 

Perfect.

The diver show at the Aquarium. 

Zuzu was NOT paying attention to the divers and NOT wanting to sit still in the stroller! 

Ducks perched RIGHT on the railing! 

While taking an after-dinner walk, I fell into conversation with a FOCUS missionary who is a friend of Kristin's dad. I was asking him about life as a missionary, whether he was allowed to be married, what sort of life there is in that. As we were walking and chatting, Zuzu decided her stroller was not good enough - she wanted to be held. It was hot, even in the evening shade, and I did not want to carry her and try to maneuver the stroller over the old sidewalk too. But I picked her up and rather without thinking, said "God the Father holds me whenever I ask, so I'll do the same for you."

"Mama, what do you have?"

"Let me come see..."

"I want to have it!!" 

"How could you resist my bald head?"

As the walk continued, I had the chance to reflect on that thought. It's come to my mind often during these nine months of parenthood, but it feels revolutionary every time: my husband and I's job, as parents, is to model for our child the love of God. It causes me to think about how God deals with me - the extravagant way in which he loves me, and how I am to pour that out on Zuzu in return. It is such an awesome, and terrifying, responsibility - to show her that such love is possible.


Sitting pretty at the water park area


Blinded by the light...after repeatedly tearing her sun hat off...

Zuzu's love, too, is inspiring. In any fear or slightest upset, she turns to me. If she is unsure, she wants to feel me there, behind her, before she sets off on a new and uncertain task. Before she ventures too far, she checks to see where that I am there and watching, approving. If she is frightened, hungry, cold, hot, or lonely, she asks for me. Such confidence - such holy boldness! She is my model for how I should go to my Heavenly Father, to show him plainly my needs and ask him to meet each and every one.

Lots of bath time at the end of the night since we had to wear a ton of sunscreen AND bug spray! 

God is so immeasurably generous to me. He is endlessly patient, loving, and kind. No request is ever too small or too big; he is always ready to listen, to correct, to teach. Calling this to mind frequently makes my life beautiful - it is easier to avoid feeling overwhelmed by her insatiable need for me. Every nighttime waking, fear of something that she loved ten seconds before, cranky crying, hating the stroller   - I see in it her deeper desire every moment for me. I observe in the world a constant frustration that children are not satisfied by what we give to them: many parents are at their wits end that their children refuse to be happy with a toy, a game, a snack, a ride, a stroller ride, a television show. But children's needs were created to be met by people - by their parents, their siblings, their family. Children, unlike adults, refuse to be satisfied with the quick-fixes of the world. They refuse to feel loved, soothed, or fulfilled by material things - instead, they cry out like Christ "Abba! Father!" (or whatever the Hebrew equivalent of 'mama' is!).

It won't always be like this. I'll have my moments, like we all do. But right now, I'm so grateful for this needy baby - because it is so good to be able to satisfy all her needs. 

NAS: Can You Be Friends with a Guy?

I'm not single and I have no business butting into this conversation...but Jen invited me! Not Alone Series is a linkup to discuss issues facing single Catholics. There is a topic each week, hosted either by Morgan or Jen. I am putting in my two cents on several fronts!

Can Catholic men and women be friends? 

Obviously, yes. But at the same time, absolutely not. 

Let me explain. 

Friendship between Single People

When two people of the opposite sex are single and befriend one another, it can be very beautiful and fulfilling. As John and Stasi Eldredge say in their lovely book Captivating "The way femininity can awaken masculine strength - the way a good man's strength allows a woman to be beautiful- these can be offered in all sorts of holy ways between men and women who are not married to one another." This is so true! A good holy male friend can be so good for a woman, and vice versa. In my opinion, these friendships should consist largely in group atmospheres, with one-on-one time geared towards an activity rather than just 'hanging out' and minimal one-on-one electronic contact (texting, email, etc.). But if these relationships are so different, we have to wonder - what do we mean by friendship? 

Many of us think about being alone together, sharing secrets and unburdening our hearts. This type of friendship - the same type we have with our female friends - cannot exist between the opposite sexes. Female friendships remain static because there is no where else for them to go - the height of female love is friendship. But this isn't so with opposite sex friendships; there is a far deeper place yet beckoning. CS Lewis wisely remarks:"When two people who thus discover that they are on the same secret road are of different sexes, the friendship which arises between them will very easy pass - may pass within the first half hour - into erotic love. Indeed unless they are physically repulsive to each other or unless one or both already loves elsewhere, it is almost certain to do sooner or later." (The Four Loves)

When there are not very careful limits on male/female friendships, we end up using each other to satisfy the desires of our hearts. As St. Francis de Sales writes, "some [fond friendships] have the sole purpose of satisfying their hearts with loving and being loved, and in this way give into their amorous inclinations." Even if you say you are just friends, it is easy to enjoy the attention, the phone calls, texts, emails - easy to enjoy it because it flatters, eases an ache, feeds a desire to be wanted. This is not holy and not helpful to either party. Someone usually ends up being hurt and wounded, leaving them with greater pain to take forward into their vocation. 

Friendship between a Single and a Taken Person

The observations above are why friendships between a single person and a 'taken' person tend to get odd rather quickly. You realize that you cannot offer so much to this opposite sex friend anymore, it feels awkward and inappropriate, because it feels adulterous. This is a good check to see how much you were offering to that other person in the first place, and it is easy to discover you were offering far far too much.

However, 'taken' in the above category doesn't have to mean dating or being married - it can mean the fulfillment of a religious or priestly vocation. I will say that when a male friend becomes a priest, the opportunities to deepen that relationship are numerous and can be a great blessing. Your friend is married to the Church...and that is, in a way, you. 

In friendships between a single woman and a seminarian, I have a unique perspective. My husband used to be a seminarian, and was one when we met and became friends. So in this regard, I think another St. Francis de Sales quote is appropriate "Holy friendship has eyes that are clear and modest, caresses pure and sincere, sighs that are meant solely for Heaven, familiarities that are wholly spiritual, complaints only that God is not loved - all infallible marks of purity." My friendship with Mr. Oram when he was in seminary was...incredible. It blew the doors off what I thought friendship with guys could be. I became friends with him through classes, where we discovered we were one another's intellectual equal. That led to long lunchtime conversations with a group of seminarians, including Mr. Oram and Zuzu's godfather, now Father Joseph. That blossomed into long walks with in-depth discussions of texts we were reading, thoughts about the Church, the realities of sin and grace. We very rarely spoke of one another, our personal lives or ourselves - it wasn't the point. We were, together, eagerly bent on racing up the path to sainthood - and in our competitive spirit, we were laughingly racing each other! 

Many of my friends (Jen included!!) say they saw that we were in love. But in all honesty, we were not. I believe that time was the most important time in all our relationship, because we built a solid friendship not on self-interest, but only on mutual love for God. We were able to do so only because I truly saw him as married (the fact that he wore clerics was very helpful) and he saw himself that way as well. We did not see one another as 'fair game' - there was no potential for romance. 

And yet, when God did awaken in my husband feelings of romance, the extrication from seminary and entrance into lay life was very difficult - for him and me. It was at times confusing and hurtful for both of us, and we were often filled with feelings of doubt. I am sure we could have handled it better; we did the best we could. Love burst upon us unexpected and wholly-formed; I was suddenly overwhelmed by the intensity of my love for him. I wonder, in retrospect, if I should have protected my heart more until he had either been free to care for me or become my spiritual Father. I certainly have never had that kind of a friendship with a man before - or since. 

Friendships between Two People who are Taken

Now that I am married, I have male friends - but none of them are single. I am friends with our old gang from Mr. O's seminary days, most of them now beloved priests, and with my married friend's husbands. I am also friends with my husband's single male friends, around whom I mostly act like an Italian grandmother; I seem to always be clucking at them about finding the right girl, or else telling them they're too thin and feeding them my cooking. 

I have had good deep conversations with men since being married, but never without my husband present. There are many reasons for this, most of them situational - when would I have the opportunity to be alone for a long period of time with a man that wasn't my husband? If he is my friend, then he is surely my husband's friend too, and we all get together to catch up and talk. There is no reason why we can't all be together, so we always are. If Mr. Oram can't attend an event, I usually don't go (but that's just my nature) and if I do go, my longer chats are with women (mostly because I find women more interesting). I keep it light with guys - football trash talking, inquiries about families, talk of our spouses. 

The fact is, as a married woman, I have a very good male best friend - my husband. He is the one to whom I rush with news, because he knows what it means more than anyone else. The idea that I would share parts of myself with other men first, or with them and not with my husband, is inconceivable. Who else knows me as he does? After you have shared a bed, been through illness, fought and made up, endured pregnancy, experienced childbirth, the joy and peace of newborn days...who else can know you like your husband? I have lost any lingering interest or desire in other men; there is no man that I look at with anything but polite disinterest in terms of emotional intimacy. 

I am so grateful that my husband and I have together experienced joys that we never experienced with anyone else. Although we were never especially judicious in guarding our hearts, it happened naturally because we are both snobby by nature and have always felt isolated from others in general. Because of this, we are not replacements of another, are never compared to another, we have no shoes to fill - and I mean this in an emotional capacity. We were never so intimate with another opposite sex friend, and that has served us well. We do not trade on stereotypes of the opposite sex; we allow one another to be who we fully are, without the baggage of gendered expectations. There is no other person, lurking in the wings, with whom we miss an easy camaraderie, or to whom we compare our relationship when we are in a rough patch. We are free from pain and fear, knee-jerk responses and voices in our heads. 

Men are wonderful creatures, and they offer much to women. I can see how I have been enriched throughout my life by their friendships and aid. But they were always far different than what we usually mean by friendship - that deep abiding love that comes from knowing another person very intimately. Such knowing between the opposite sexes can only lead to love, or heartache. 

I encourage unmarried persons to look very harshly at their opposite sex friendships and do not be gentle with yourself. Make sure you are not using your friends for your own desires, that you are not being careless with the intimacy that deserves to be veiled from all but your husband (or Christ himself! if that is your vocation). 

Thanks for letting me butt-in. :) 

Two Down....

Last year for our anniversary, I was pregnant. Pregnant and pretty tired, I think...I don't remember much. We went to ate at a local Mediterranean restaurant, had a good time - probably got home before 9pm and went to bed! I think I wore the sapphires Mr. O gave me for our first Valentine's Day (I adore those earrings and necklace). 

This year has been wonderful. 

I was so excited to get my hair done I could barely concentrate on studying! Last weekend, my eldest sister Kim and her daughter Maddie came down to visit (I looove having visitors - especially my gals!) and we went shopping. I found a $4.88 skirt at LOFT! Whoop! So I knew I was going to wear my lovely swishy pink skirt, but I was dreading my hair so I made an appointment...and chopped it all off! 

Not pictured: the other pictures where I'm making really dumb faces in an attempt to look cute. 

It's really amazing what a new haircut and some makeup can do to a gal. Within twenty feet of the salon, I had two compliments (very over-exaggerated, I'm sure) but it was so nice to look pretty again. Jen was so generous - she took the babe for the entire second half of the day! We had hours and hours to spend together!! What to do?? 

Well, we kept it simple. We took a nap (hooray!) and just hung out in bed, chatting, like old times. We went to dinner - just the two of us! I got to drink and eat the whole meal - not taking it in a to-go box, or  scarfing it down in a hurry so I could tend to Zuzu. We got silly and made lots of dumb jokes, talked about what we had been reading, caught up on our inner lives...and reflected on life with our wonderful daughter. What a joy it was to be able to sit back and talk about her - compare reflections, tender moments, hopes and dreams. Last year young love, this year young parents.

So although we did basically the same thing we did last year (we were back before 8pm!), it was gloriously different. Love really only multiplies; it cannot divide. We were so richly savoring our time together, but we missed her - truly missed her. She is our biggest bond yet, a great band of love that wraps us two together. She forms such a huge part of our common experience now...I wonder what we ever did without her. 

Naked mornings...a Zuzu tradition.

These two years have been so wonderful. I am aware that as of yet, I am still at the very beginning of our married life. I have a great deal to learn - but the thing is, I can really SEE that I'm learning. I've figured out to leave Mr. O alone when he's upset (because talking won't make him feel better), I'm getting better at confronting him when I'm upset (b/c talking does make me feel better!), and we're both still working on being better at communicating - our schedules, our desires, our expectations, and especially our joy in each other.

 Just today, Mr. O said to me, "I love you - you're just a really good person." I can't express how much that moved me, utterly slayed me in that moment. I'm a good person? I can't recall anyone ever telling me that I'm a good person. It's such a simple compliment, but it spoke volumes to me. I wish I had known that earlier. I need to hear those things from him! It encourages me to persevere in my efforts in holiness. It gives me a sentiment to hold onto when we're fighting or annoyed, snippy and frustrated. 

Two years out and I'm grateful I took the plunge, tied the knot, jumped the broom and gave him my yes. 

Anything Your Dad Can Do Mine Can Do...

This post was ready in a partially timely manner but I wanted to fiddle with it and then Zuzu stopped sleeping and my studies are picking up and and and - sigh. So I have a lot more reasons. But there's my abridged list of why my dad is so great. Forgive any typos. I'm really just hitting post here and not looking back!

I don't mean to brag, but my Dad is pretty awesome. 

Ignore the weird girl with the pompom. My dad has a great profile. 

Unlike my mom, my daddy and I have not always been close. We went through a rough time, like a lot of fathers and daughters; it was around age 13. He and my mom were having problems, and I was having none of it. I like to make decisions and my decision was that my dad was a bad person. 

That was a really bad decision. 

My dad could have said, I've done the best I can - I'm not going to bend over backwards to prove to my daughter that I love her. I'm not going to try to convince her. I'm not going to chase her. But he did. My dad spent the next six years making it up to me, trying to show me that he really, really did love me and wanted to be a part of my life. My dad pursued me and pursued my heart; he did not relent, he did not give up. And you guys, I made it difficult - I pushed him away, rolled my eyes, did not say 'I love you back' and (wince) openly told people "I hate my dad." He didn't let that change that he loved me. 

So in case all of that isn't reason enough for my dad to be man of the century year, here's a list (cause we know I love lists) about why my dad is the best: 

1. Storytelling. 

You've never heard anybody tell a story till you've heard my dad tell a story. It's slow and relaxed, like a Southern summer, so you have to listen close but man, it delivers. He tells me about nail driving contests by a bunch of roaming carpenters from Oklahoma, tails of growing up in the South and the Heartland, and memories of us kids when we were little. It's always a fascinating listen. 

2. Straight-shooting. 

My dad likes people to be honest because he is honest. He's not honest like my mom is honest - so honest it'll knock your teeth out - but honest like a river flows, in that it's just what he knows to be. Some people try to make rivers into lakes or change their courses, but they always find their way back to being a river; my dad is like that too. Whenever he is less than honest, he feels it's wrong and comes back to who he is - a plain ol' straight shooter. 

3. Beauty. 

My dad is an artist. He owns a company that creates - creates backgrounds of roller coasters, museum exhibits, anything that falls under 'fabrication and design.' He is also a master carpenter. He used to build houses. He makes beautiful cards. Even his handwriting is like art, like some sort of Art Deco font (he only ever prints). His love of beauty, and dedication to it in his work, taught me to love beauty too and to realize that you should dedicate your life to it, if that's your calling.

4. Be Silly. 

One of my favorite memories is a holiday - Thanksgiving? Christmas? - I don't even know. It was hot, so hot, and I was baking something chocolate. He kept coming in the kitchen and giving advice (giving advice my dad's FAVORITE thing to do - especially if it's a topic he knows nothing about). I kept telling him to stop it, leave me alone. Finally I got so fed up, I dipped my finger in the batter and smeared it on his face! Well, he picked up the spatula and wock! into my hair it went. I was enraged, and laughing, and picked up the whole bowl, ready to toss it - and off he went, scampering out the back door like a naughty child - and I took off after him, round and round the house we went till we collapsed back in the kitchen, calling a truce due to the horrible heat. 

I love how silly my dad is. 

5. Mind Your Manners. 

Do you know phone manners? I mean, when you pick up, what do you say? I'll tell you what - I had the BEST phone manners and message taking abilities of any of my friends growing up because my dad taught me: 

"Hello Rogers residence." 

(yes is david there) 

"May I ask who's calling please?" 

(wonky wonk wonk) 

"Just a moment please, I'll check" ...then check with Dad to see if he wants to talk to WWW, then back to the phone...

"I'm so sorry, he can't come to the phone right now. May I take a message? and how do you spell that? And just to make sure, the number is 123-456? Alright, I'll give him the message. Thank you." 

BOOM.

6. Be Kind.

My Dad is unfailingly kind. Actually, it gets on my mom and I's nerves a lot. Because he's so nice. All the time. My dad is like a throwback to the 1950s; he's so exaggeratedly nice you think he's being sarcastic! But he's not. He's just that nice. 

7. Be Gentle. 

While my father is kind, he is also gentle. That means that in his approach to certain subjects, delicate subjects, he never demanded answers or even a conversation - he would invite, leave the door open, let me know he was willing to talk about it if I wanted. His gentleness in dealing with me and my feelings has been such a blessing many times, when I felt lonely and knew I could turn to him.

I think we look alike! I have his blue eyes...and now so does Zuzu!

8. Look for the Good.

My father always sees the good in other people, and always gives them the benefit of the doubt. Always. I want to complain about people and what jerks they are - I want someone to commiserate with me! But not dad. Dad doesn't do that; he acknowledges there's a problem, but then quickly moves to explore the reason behind that problem or how we can love the person more. Boy, that Christlike attitude is annoying!! :) 

9. Try, Try Again. 

Like I said, my parents marriage wasn't always the best. At one point or another, one or both of my parents wanted out. They were rough years. But once my parents realized they did want to save their marriage, my father worked hard. I mean, really hard! It is hard work to change yourself after a lifetime of being one way - hard to undue patterns of thought, speak, and action that you realize are hurting people or are unhealthy for your marriage. It takes humility and well, he failed a lot. 

But he didn't give up. The person my dad is today is different in some very key ways from the man I grew up with, because he wanted to be better for  his family. That dedication to keep working even after failure stirs my heart - I think I would just have given up.

Wedding montage...

10. Marriage is Forever. 

I mentioned this with my mom too, but it takes two to tango...my parents could have divorced. Lots of people do. What the heck? They weren't happy. Us kids were even saying - divorce! You're miserable! We're miserable! 

But my dad stayed. My dad stayed and did the hard work and worked his butt off to show us that marriage is worth it. And while he worked hard to show love to me and my siblings, he really worked hard to show love to my mom. My parents love is beautiful - I adore their rhythm, their obvious comfort with and adoration of one another. Their affection and consideration of one another is truly Christlike and it constantly challenges me to love my husband like they love one another. What a gift! A gift to me, to their family, to the world - to show that love conquers all. 

11. Say It. 

Not all dads are big on words and there's nothing wrong with that. But my dad is - from the very beginning of my hazy memories, the words I hear loping out of the mist are "I sure do love you, Martha J." That combination and its attendant rhythm are burned in my brain. He said it all the time. All the time. It annoyed me as a teenager; why does he say "I sure do love you," I'd think. Why can't he just say "love you"?? I don't know why he chose that...but it's now the language I use in my own family, so much so that now I catch Mr. Oram using it too. There's something sweet and homey about adding that "sure" in there and then the child's middle name or middle initial. 

What a blessing that the words I remember most are words of love. 

12. Follow the Leader.

Part of the beauty of my parents marriage is my parents' mutual dedication to one another's interests. My dad is a great supporter of my mom's running and my mom encourages my dad's love of history. This respect flows naturally from their recognition that if the other one loves something, it must be because that something is good in some way - and they often strive to see that good as much as possible. 

Nowhere was that as apparent as when my dad followed my mom into the Catholic Church. When my mom started attending the local parish, my father at first let her go alone...but then started going with her. Soon he was going every Sunday. Dad isn't as bookish as mom, or as theologically inclined, but just by going and seeing what the Church is, he was falling in love. He came into the church several years after she did and he did it entirely out of love - love for the Church, yes, but also love for my mother - he knew that wherever she went, he wanted to follow. 

13. He Never Went to College. 

My dad was bright. He did well in high school, was in Latin club, pretty popular guy. But coming from  a working class home and having an eye on the construction business, Dad decided against college. What is looked on as a suicidal career move now has paid off because my dad has incredible skill and a great work ethic. Now the owner of a very successful business, my dad has skills that are not taught at any institute of higher education. He's amazing.

14. You Get What You Ask For.

A great memory of my childhood is Dad drinking Moosehead beer. I'd walk up and boldly declare "I want some beer!" He'd arch an eyebrow and say "oookay," dutifully handing me the green bottle. I'd take the veeeery tiniest of sips and then cry "YUCK! How can you drink that stuff??"...then saunter away. 

I often wonder how easily that could have turned into a toddler tantrum or even just a rebuff. "No, absolutely not, beer is for adults" or "No, go away - I'm talking to my friends." 

15. Put your money where your mouth is.

My dad didn't just talk about me wanting to go to college - he helped me get there. My dad didn't only encourage me in my faith, he sent me on a pilgrimage to France. When my dad supports something, he REALLY supports it - he's willing to help you get there if he can, whatever the goal. In an age where most people just give lip service to 'being supportive,' my dad exemplifies being in your corner however he can. 

16. Pray. 

I never thought this would be on a list about my dad - because we weren't religious, y'know? But here he is...my dad. And he prays. I know he prays. He's made prayer part of his day, and he's not embarrassed about that. Sometimes one of my nieces will ask to accompany him on a walk and he'll politely say, "Well my walks are my prayer time, so you can't come, but I'll see you when I get back."

Dad and my niece, Livvy, as a toddler

17. Nursing is Important. 

I will NEVER forget the weekend that Zuzu was first here and my dad is sitting at the table saying "now, you know, she'll want to  nurse a lot, but it's important you nurse her whenever she needs to, because you're establishing supply..." WHAT. What man says that, to his daughter??? 

My dad! Also the man who calmly sits next to me on the couch as I nurse his grandchild without a cover; he is perfectly comfortable, neither avoiding looking at me or looking too much. To him, breastfeeding is perfectly natural. His attitude has helped me feel so supported as a new mom, and has been a great example to Mr. O about how to treat nursing mothers.

The kneeler we used at our wedding - my daddy made it!

18. Generosity. 

Short of cash? My dad will spot you. Need a lift home? He'll stop when he sees you walking on the side of the road. Need a place to live? A pep talk? A meal, a hand, someone to help you move, a home for your pet, a job for your teenage son? My dad will step in and offer. There is no need too great or too small for my father to try to help - he believes every need that is set before him is God asking him to help, and he responds so generously. If God the Father is extravagant in his love and overwhelmingly mind-blowingly generous, then my dad is an amazing physical example of that reality. I don't know anyone as willing to help people...except maybe for my own husband (a quality that drew me to him like a tractor beam).

19. Evangelize. 

Sometimes new Catholics are obnoxious; I understand - I was one. I was annoying. I'm sure I still am. But my dad isn't. He has maintained a true humility while still - get this - really inviting those around him to know Jesus. He invites everyone - everyone! - to come to Mass with him. No? Okay, maybe next time. Mass, parish events, confession - he invites anyone who is around him to come. When a friend/coworker expressed reluctance about going to confession, my dad offered to ask the priest to come to work so it wouldn't be as intimidating. 

That's truly desiring peace in people's hearts. 

20. Hard Work. 

I don't know anyone that works as hard as my dad. I mean that. My dad works seven days a week. He built a business from the ground up. He takes calls anytime - except during Mass. I learned a great work ethic and commitment to excellence from my Father. If it is made by my dad, he will stand behind it - it will be right or he'll work till it is. I don't know many companies or people like that these days. I strive to give myself fully to my work every day as he does.

All this to say...God knew what he was doing when he sent me to my Daddy. And I am so grateful.


My dad and brother made this for me - on the other side it says "Bama Law." They're amazing.