family

To the Mothers of My Children

Posted on by Phil Corbett

Yes, you read that correctly – to the mothers of my children.

If you are looking for some scandalous information about me, though, I am sorry to have to disappoint you. I am actually rather boring when it comes to controversy.

Still, my children do have more than one mother and I would like to take some time to thank all the mothers in my children’s lives, and in my life, along with all mothers.

So here goes….

To mothers –

You do everything from providing the launch pad for your children to follow their dreams to providing the safety net to catch them when their dreams crash to the ground. Mom, thank you for the confidence you instilled in me, as a 17-year-old senior, by listening to me share my dreams on our front porch and for the comfort you provided to me, as a 33-year-old son with a broken heart, by listening to me share my hurts while we re-roofed “the shack”. Though there are many other wonderful moments, those are two I will remember forever.

To mothers-in-law –

You welcome the additions to your family by being open to other mothers’ kids coming into your lives and taking your “babies” from you. Karen, I am thankful you accepted me into your family even though I am 12 years, 362 days older than your daughter and, on my first date with your daughter, you needed to come to my rescue when I ran out of gas. (I can explain!)

To birth mothers –

You do not give up your children for adoption but rather choose to give hope to your children through adoption. Even though you do not know who I am, I am thankful for you, my son’s birth mother, for allowing me to share in the life of your child. I am under no illusion that I can love him more or better than you can, but I do love him with every ounce of my being. Someday, if he decides to meet you, I hope you will see a young man worthy of the sacrifice you made. I am eternally grateful for the gift you have given me.

To the mothers who do not yet have children to legally call their own, or may never –

The time and care you put into every birthday card you send to your nieces, nephews and the other children in your life and the excitement these children show each time they are in your presence is priceless. Though you may never be listed on any official documents for these children, you are not only the favorite aunt, you are a mother to them and have been invaluable to their development as human beings.

To the mothers with whom we fathers share our parenting duties –

Where do I start? If we fathers were in a Tom Cruise movie, we would say, “you complete us.” That would be cheesy, though, so I will just say we could never be the fathers we are without you. Kelly, there are times when I wonder, if something were to happen to you, could I raise our kids on my own? I could and I would. Not because I would want to – only because I would have to. There is so much you give to our children that I never could. You have a special connection with each child that nurtures something distinctive in each child. You seem to be intrinsically aware of their individual needs and able to uniquely attend to those needs. It is an honor and a pleasure to parent with you.

I know there are many more mothers I could write about but there isn’t the time or the space. This Sunday, though, as we celebrate Mother’s Day, I encourage everyone to also celebrate Mothers’ Day, honoring all the women who have been mothers to us and to our children. You are truly appreciated.

Responding to Tragedy

Posted on by Phil Corbett

Sometimes, the most opportune time to find reasons to celebrate humanity is after a tragedy. It may be difficult to do so – and then again, maybe it isn’t so difficult.

Last Sunday, my neighbor’s brother was seriously injured in an accident in his shop at home. Saying he is lucky to be alive is an understatement.

Instead of taking the space to go into more detail of what happened, I will just encourage you to check out his CaringBridge site at http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/jayzierden.

What you will find there, as you would on most CaringBridge sites, is an outpouring of support, through prayers, kind wishes and offers of assistance.

You will find, amid some words of worry and trepidation of what the future might hold, many words spreading a theme of hope, of perseverance, of faith.

You will find a testament to the impact a person can have, that, for many, will only be fully realized by their loved ones at their funerals.

From my experience knowing my neighbor and her siblings, I would say they are a family who grew up valuing hard work and helping out. That has definitely carried on into adulthood for them. If a job needs to get done, they get it done. Better yet, if a job needs to get done for someone else, that probably gets done first.

For a man who is used to helping out others, it may not always be easy accepting the help from others, but when you are laid up in a hospital bed, struggling to move, you have little choice.

You have little choice but to find out the kind of structure others build on the foundation you have laid.

You have little choice but to find out the fruits that are harvested from the seeds you have sown.

You have little choice but to find out the numerous lives you have touched and the significant impact you have made on others because of the outpouring they give back.

There is still a long road of recovery for the family to travel. Lost work time, mounting medical bills, changes in family routines, and physical and emotional stresses, among many other things, will be obstacles on that road. Times like these, though, reveal character and build it, not only in the family going through the difficult times, but in the rest of us, as well.

I am not a believer in things happening for a reason. I believe things happen and how we choose to respond to those things gives meaning to those things. Our humanity will show itself no matter what. We get to choose whether it is the best parts of our humanity or the not-so-good parts.

I am blessed and honored to know a family such as my neighbor’s family and I am even more hopeful for humanity because of how they, and those who know them, are responding to this accident.

One final thought – though kind words at funerals and wakes are comforting to the families, why do we wait till it is too late to let people know the difference they have made?

Hopefully, the people who have touched us will not need to be lying in a coffin, or in a hospital bed, before they fully understand the value they have added to our lives.

P.S. If you like what you read, please consider following my blog and get each post sent directly to your email. Click on the “Follow” button and enter your email. An email will be sent to you with instructions for completing your registration. Also, please feel free to share the post with anyone you wish. I appreciate it.

“Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday.”

Posted on by Phil Corbett

Not only is that a line from one of the most-quotable, classic movies of all time, it is an appropriate topic for the special day being celebrated this week. (I am referring to Valentine’s Day, not Ash Wednesday.)

As a good friend likes to remind me, when it comes to mawage, I out-punted my coverage. I have a hard time disagreeing with him.

Another friend once said, in reference to my wedding, “never have I seen a bride cry so hard walking down the aisle and never have I seen a bride with so many reasons to cry.” I am not as sure about that one.

Though I am one to appreciate humorous comments like these, when I got married I was also very fortunate to have the benefit of receiving helpful advice from many people on how to have a good marriage. One piece of advice sticking in my head came from a friend who told me to remember, and often use, these three simple phrases – “Yes, dear.” “Sorry, dear.” “You’re right, dear.” I must admit, I have not yet fully mastered the art of using of these phrases but since the giver of the advice and his wife are closing in on 50 years of marriage, I figure the advice is worth paying attention to.

50 years! The reality of what it means to be married 50 years and beyond can be difficult to truly comprehend.

The past several years I have had the pleasure of attending the 50th wedding anniversary celebrations of a few couples, including my parents. Think about it, since my parents and the other couples were married, they have weathered tough economic times, including at least seven recessions. They have worried about the future of the world because of the Cold War, the Vietnam War, the threat of nuclear war, Gulf Wars I and II, and the War on Terror. They have held on to their values while adapting to continual, societal changes, from the social upheaval of the 60s and 70s to the fast-moving pace of the 90s and 2000s. They have experienced, and continue to experience, countless personal triumphs and tragedies, as well as the triumphs and tragedies of their children and grandchildren. Through all of this and much more, my parents and the other couples have not only survived, they have thrived and probably enjoy each other more now than ever.

Before I got married, I had my opinions on marriage and divorce, and just like the parenting advice I was willing to offer prior to becoming a parent, I was willing to offer my opinions on marriage to people who were not really asking for them.

Since getting married, I have been humbled and have learned to judge less and empathize more when marriages do not work out. Not many people enter into a marriage planning on it ending in divorce. I know many good people who, for reasons I am not privy to, were not able to make it work and spending time placing blame and shame does not seem to serve much of a purpose.

With so much publicity, though, focusing on marriages that do not work out, I just think it is good to celebrate the many marriages that do work out.

“Yes, dear.” “Sorry, dear.” “You’re right, dear.” I hope and pray I am wise enough to master those phrases by the time my wife and I reach 50 years.

P.S. I purposely did not mention the name of the movie the quote comes from for fear of insulting those who know the movie as well as I do, or even better. For the name of the movie and the many other quotable lines from it, just Google “mawage.” You will not be disappointed.

Sleeping Around

Posted on by Phil Corbett

“Hi. My name is Phil Corbett. I am happily unmarried but I sleep around a lot.”

How’s that for an attention getter? I actually used to use that as an introduction when I was directing retreats. I was fairly successful at getting the participants’ attention, as well as some pretty concerning looks.

I guess I should explain.

I got married later in life than most of my friends. While they were starting families, I was still trying to figure out how to start a relationship. (Some of you are nodding in agreement right now – I know it!) On weekends, certain holidays and other times when I had nothing to do, many of these friends would invite me to spend time with their families, often letting me sleep overnight. That is what I mean by “sleeping around.” Sorry if you were looking for something more scandalous or controversial.

These experiences were significant to me and led to the development of one of my many theories of life, and probably my favorite one – each of us has a family by chance and a family by choice.

Our family by chance is our family of origin. Whether by birth or adoption, we are added to this family by chance and not by any decision we make. Some are fortunate and have loving, supportive families by chance. Others are not as fortunate.

Our family by choice is the people with whom we develop relationships throughout our lives. For this, we should all be fortunate because we get to choose who they are.

I have been blessed to have a wonderful family by chance. I am the fifth of eight children in a loving, supportive, but by no means perfect, family. Every year we reserve a retreat center for three days to celebrate our family Christmas. Once again, this year, my parents, all my siblings and most of their children were able to make it, some traveling a few hours by car, others driving from Texas, or flying in from Massachusetts and Pennsylvania. Every other summer, my dad’s family (the children, grandchildren, etc. of Grandma Irene from an earlier post) gathers for a three-day campout, at which usually over one-hundred relatives show up. I could not have asked for a better family by chance.

I have also been blessed with my family by choice, but I have been wise with it, too. I have been fortunate to have wonderful people cross my path throughout my life and I have been wise enough to choose to grow those relationships.

My family by choice consists of people who have been supportive when I needed to be held up. They are people who have challenged me when I have needed to be enlightened. They are people who have been willing to listen to my ramblings when I needed to figure out the meaning of life. They are people from whom I have gained great wisdom and insight just by listening to them.

Most importantly, they are the people who have encouraged me to let my light shine, cultivating what is right about me, instead of digging up what is wrong about me, and I realize I am a better person because of them.

Far too many people spend their lives trying to change their family by chance. I think that effort could be much better spent developing their family by choice.

P.S. Some of you have let me know you signed up to follow my blog but have not been getting the email notifications. Please check your junk mail or spam filter. You should have received a confirmation email with instructions on how to confirm your follow request so you can receive the email notifications.

And, as always, if you like what you read, please share the blog with others on Facebook or any other means you choose. I appreciate it greatly.

How Great Thou Art

Posted on by Phil Corbett

I live in Minnesota in the St. Cloud metro area. For those of you not familiar with Central Minnesota, St. Cloud is a city of around 65,000 people, about an hour northwest of Minneapolis. I think we residents of the area are very fortunate to have access to numerous athletic and cultural events, especially theatrical and musical.

One such event occurred last November and December when the Great River Educational Arts Theatre (GREAT) put on A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. It was an amazing production! I know – I was in it.

Don’t get me wrong, what was amazing about the production had little to do with my acting, singing and dancing ability. My two left feet became tangled more than once and trying to sing and dance, while swinging a push broom, was challenging for me, if not slightly hazardous. (My balding head has the marks to prove it.)

Still, the performance was excellent, and according to most who attended, it was a production more than worth the price of the ticket. As we say in Minnesota, “not too bad” for a community theatre cast and crew of 60 or so volunteers, with varying degrees of theatrical experience and ability, and a handful of individuals directing and leading us, who I believe were compensated but far less than they were worth.

To me, though, what was most amazing about the production was not the final product but the experience itself.

To be clear, I’m a sports guy. I have participated in athletics at the high school and college level. I have coached various sports from the youth to the varsity level. I believe there is great value in competing and in winning and losing. I believe participating in athletics builds life-long skills and character.

I have never witnessed such growth, though, as I saw in my then 8-year-old son when he auditioned and was chosen for a play four years ago. Dropping him off for rehearsal three to four nights per week and on Saturdays for six weeks and seeing the changes in him when I picked him up several hours later sold me on the value of theatre and the arts.

Inspired by him, my 8-year-old daughter and I decided to audition for A Christmas Carol and made the cast. Through six weeks of rehearsing (two to three hours each night, three to four nights a week and five hours on Saturdays) and twelve performances over three weeks I got to witness first hand what my son experienced and came away with experiences and insight to last me a lifetime.

I got to witness and experience parent/child bonding when both are teaching each other, learning from each other and encouraging each other. I got to struggle through some rocky moments with the rest of the cast, crew and directing team, wondering if everything would come together and then realizing after more hard work and practice, things got better. I got to truly understand the meaning of “the show must go on” when cast members (including me) screwed up a line or a step and had no time to pout about it because the rest of cast was counting on us to get our next lines or steps right. My belief that our future is in good hands was reaffirmed because I got to hang out with and get to know young people in their teens and twenties and see the amazing things they are doing. Just the auditioning process itself was a valuable experience because it meant having the courage to dance, sing and read lines for the directing team, in front of 50 or so other people auditioning, knowing the chances of being selected were maybe 50-50 because another 50 or so were auditioning the next night.

Probably the most rewarding experience of all was watching my daughter work hard for six weeks, and though still being very nervous on opening night, have the courage to skip out on stage and perform in front of a full house. Because she did, she gained confidence to last a lifetime.

I repeat – I believe there is value in competing and in winning and losing. But I also believe there is just as great a value, if not more, in people working together so everyone ends up succeeding. Unfortunately, too often the end result of a sporting event leaves one side, at best, unhappy and, at worst, yelling and screaming. As a youth coach, I have been a witness to way too many screaming and yelling matches. As a high school coach, I ashamedly admit, at times, I was a participant.

What is great about the theatre is the only screaming and yelling is usually by the audience saying job well done.

For this, I say “How Great Thou Art!”

Making A Difference

Posted on by Phil Corbett

Some people strive to change the world. Most of us hope to just have a positive impact on the world around us. That is okay. Enough people making seemingly small differences in their worlds can affect the larger world. To me, that is what Paying It Forward and committing Random Acts of Kindness are all about – doing little things to effect a bigger change.

Of course, long before those phrases became popular, people were making a difference. Irene is one of those people. Though she died 20 years ago, at the age of 89, her unconditional love for people, her steadfast belief in the goodness of people, and her willingness to reach out to people in need is an inspiration still today.

Irene and her husband, Harold, raised four biological children and were official foster parents to an additional 51 children, including one who stayed for over 12 years. He is actually considered one of Irene and Harold’s five children and a brother by the four biological children. In addition to the 51 official foster children, they took in dozens of other children whose families were struggling somehow. Some stayed for a few days and some for a few weeks. All stayed for free.

Irene found one such child in a post office. After striking up a conversation with a young mother, Irene found out the mother needed to have an operation and had no place for her baby to stay. Irene offered to take care of the baby and the mother accepted. Irene had no assurance that the mother would come back for the baby but she just trusted that the mother would. Several weeks later, the mother did.

During the Depression of the 1930s, Irene often provided meals at her home for hungry and homeless wanderers. Once she hired an armless man to do some yard work for her and then decided he needed a bath and some clean clothes, especially socks. One of her children found her on the floor trimming the man’s toenails so they wouldn’t cut holes in the new socks she gave him.

While having coffee at a local bakery, Irene overheard an employee asking a man who was loitering to leave. The man said he was waiting for his granddaughter to pick him up. The employee told the man if he was not gone in a half an hour, he would call the police. After finishing her coffee, Irene told the employee to call her, not the police, if the man’s granddaughter did not show up. Of course, soon after she got home, Irene got the call. She had someone go get him and bring him to her home. She fed him, got him cleaned up and gave him some of her husband’s clothes.

Irene knew of an elderly bachelor in her neighborhood who had lived a lonely life, with few relatives or friends, if any. She took it upon herself to go to his apartment daily to take care of him. On the man’s last birthday before he died, she baked a cake, grabbed some of her grandchildren and threw him a party. He wept.

Even when her husband was in the hospital, Irene did not stop reaching out to others. If other patients’ relatives did not have a place to stay, many ended up eating and staying at Irene’s.

When Irene died in 1992, her obituary in the Star Tribune, Minnesota’s leading newspaper, was four inches high and five columns wide. Irene did not die wealthy but she died rich – rich from a lifetime of touching the lives and hearts of others and making a difference. She was “paying it forward” and committing “random acts of kindness” before either were even thought of.

Now I admit, with the way things are today, it can be difficult, even dangerous, to do some of the things Irene did. We may not be able to do the same actions Irene did but there is nothing stopping us from having the same attitudes Irene had. When we look outward and not just inward, focusing on helping others and not just making sure we are taken care of, it is amazing the impact we can have. I know many people, including me, have tried to live their lives inspired by Irene’s example.

By the way, though most people called her Irene, I just called her Grandma.

Note: These examples are just a few of the many things Grandma did in her life. To give credit where credit is due, I became aware of them through conversations with my father and his siblings and through two newspaper articles published many years ago in the Star Tribune by Oliver Towne and Robert T Smith.

Looking for inspiration? Try down the street.

Posted on by Phil Corbett

Today I would like to share a story of a family who lives in my neighborhood. They can tell their story much better than I can. I can only relate what their story means to me. It is an inspirational story of a deep faith and trust in God and an amazing and extraordinary commitment to a child, whom they had only seen in a picture.

Married in 1999, the couple planned to add to their family after a few years. When they decided it was time to try and have a baby, their plan did not develop as they had pictured. Months of trying turned to years of trying, and even with the help of fertility treatments, they still had no baby. So in the spring of 2005, they turned their attention to adoption. Little did they know where their adoption journey would take them.

By June, they had chosen a country and a placing agency and were just about to submit all of their initial paperwork when they received some shocking news – they were expecting! Sometime in 2006, they were blessed by the arrival of Caleb, a baby boy. The adoption journey could have ended there but, about a year and a half later, their hearts began to stir again.

So, in March of 2008, they began the adoption paperwork process once again and, on September 15 of that year, got the call saying a 4-month-old baby boy from Kyrgyzstan was available for adoption. Despite warnings to not, they fell in love with the boy they only knew through a picture and by the end of the week, had accepted the referral of “Baby Z.” In their hearts, they had just become a family of four. Once again, though, their adoption journey was about to take a detour. This time the detour was not as pleasant.

About a month or so after they had accepted the referral, the Kyrgyzstan government put the adoption process on hold and in early 2009, the Kyrgyzstan prime minister placed a one-year moratorium on international adoptions. Imagine how parents feel the first time they leave their child in someone else’s care. Now imagine feeling that on a daily basis for over a year. The sleepless nights filled with worry over whether your child is receiving the love and care he needs. After a year of waiting to see if they could bring, now, “Little Z” home, they decided to pursue a concurrent adoption through the Ukraine. They had not given up on “Little Z.” They just needed to move forward with their family plans. In April of 2010, they flew to the Ukraine to meet the new addition to their family. On April 19, after a 10-day bonding period, they stood before a Ukrainian judge and were pronounced the boy’s parents. About a month later, after flying back to the US, then back to the Ukraine, and then back to the US, they arrived at home with Ian.

Three months later, some more shocking news – they were expecting again! In June of 2011, Anaya, their baby girl was born. Even with the joy of this new arrival, they could not help but worry and wonder about their “Little Z.” From the moment they saw his picture he was their child. They were not about to give up on bringing him home.

In the fall of 2011, the Kyrgyzstan government put a new adoption law in place and in early 2012, the door to possibly bringing home “Little Z” was opened again. They were hopeful and hesitant at the same time. They had no idea if he was still in an orphanage or if he was still available to be adopted, though they had not stopped praying for and loving him for a single day. When they received the call saying “Little Z” was still available, they pushed ahead full-steam to get all the paperwork completed. On March 21, 2012, closing in on nearly four years since they had first fell in love with him, nearly four years of worry and wonder if their son was okay, they boarded a plane to finally meet him in person. Two days later, after getting approval from the Kyrgyzstan adoption ministry to meet “Little Z,” they entered the gates of the baby house and met their son. This was not the family reunion many parents are used to after not seeing their child for a period of time. There was no running to him and giving him a big hug. Though they wanted to, they had to give “Little Z” the time and space to warm up to them. Imagine how joyful they must have felt to see him, yet how patient they still needed to be.

After the 10-day bonding period, during which they were allowed 2 visits per day of about 2 hours each, they hoped to secure a court date and get through the court process prior to returning to the US in early April. Once again, things did not turn out as they had hoped. No court date was set and they returned to the US without “Little Z,” fearful the adoption process could be shut down again and they would never bring him home.

Fortunately, this time the detour was only slight and on May 28th, 2012, after the father flew back to Kyrgyzstan, “Little Z” walked out of the baby house, as the mother puts it, “No longer an orphan. No longer fatherless. Officially our son – forever!”

On June 9th, surrounded by close family and friends, their family of six was united for the first time at the airport in Minneapolis. Caleb, now 6, who had prayed since he was 2-1/2 for his brother to come home, was finally able to give his little brother a hug.

I shared with you only some of the details and some of the emotions of their story. I cannot retell story anywhere near as well as they can. That would take an entire book that hopefully they will write someday. I shared their story, though, because they inspire me. First of all, I am inspired by their deep faith in God that guided them through this journey, and continues to guide them. I am inspired by their dedication and commitment to follow through on a promise they made to a boy in a picture whom the moment they laid eyes upon him, they considered their own. I am inspired by their perseverance. With all the detours and road blocks put in front of them, some positive, others not so much, they could have chosen, after almost four years, to say it wasn’t meant to be and no one would have thought any less of them. But they didn’t!

When we search for reasons to be inspired, we often look in the wrong places. We do not need to look to the news or to the nation for inspiration. We need to look no farther than down the street. Our neighborhoods are filled each day with ordinary people doing extraordinary things.

Just an end note – Of the original 65 families trying to adopt from Kyrgyzstan who were caught up in this process, only nine have been united with their children. The rest remain in limbo, not knowing when the time might come for them to bring their children home, if at all. Though this family celebrates their situation, their hearts ache and they pray constantly for the other families still waiting.