Thanksgiving, Part Three: Clara

Thanksgiving, Part Three:  Clara

Back in the spring/summer of 2012, Megan and Joe became affiliated with a group called “Guiding Eyes for the Blind.” It is an organization that provides service dogs to those in need. They breed the dogs with the finest temperaments, hoping for the greatest possibility of sweetness and success. Most of the dogs are pure-bred Labradors, either black or yellow.

The kids learned all about Guiding Eyes’ procedures, thought it sounded like a wonderful organization, and volunteered to foster one of their puppies. Megan and Joe had to be interviewed and qualify for that job, committing to a year-and-a-half of puppy shenanigans, weekly training sessions, care, love, and finally, releasing the dog back to Guiding Eyes for the final intensive finish.

Todd and I questioned her. “Do you really think you could raise a puppy to the age of 18 months and then let it go? Isn’t that going to be really hard?”

And she replied, “Yeah, it will be hard, but just think how awesome it would be if the dog does well and makes it through the program – it will go on to really help someone who needs it.”

So in August of ’12, at the age of ten weeks, ‘Clara’ came to live with them. She’s a heart-breakingly beautiful yellow lab. The kids lived up to their obligations and took her for all of her training sessions, made sure she got good care and love. They learned so much about raising a dog. The program insists on completely positive reinforcement, never saying “No,” always using diversion. At first the kids wore a pouch around their waists which held a portion of Clara’s daily food allowance. Whenever she did anything remotely good, she got a reward. Before you knew it, she was always right there by their side. Todd and I met her last October, when she was four months old, and she was already doing well then. Here she is, in her bandana...

                                              Joe, Clara (4 mos. old), Megan

Because the training is specific and intense, if Megan and Joe needed to travel, another Guiding Eyes family took the dog for the duration. Likewise, they ‘sat for’ a number of dogs throughout the year. It was actually a good thing for Clara to be with other people from time to time, since it wasn’t technically their dog, but the program’s dog.

Clara is almost 18 months old, and the kids got notice that she’s nearing the end of her stay with them. At first they were told “January” as a departure date, but then it got moved to “mid-December.” When Todd and I were out there over Thanksgiving, Megan asked if we’d like to attend one of the Guiding Eyes graduation ceremonies. It wasn’t for Clara – it was just a ceremony so that we could see the complete cycle of how the program works. The four of us went.

Once a dog enters the program, it could become a seeing eye dog, or a dog that senses seizures, a companion for a child with autism or another issue, a companion animal for the elderly, some have even gone into government work. Their path is unknown until they can be evaluated to see its strengths and weaknesses. For Clara, time will tell. But for the dogs that were graduating on that November Saturday – oh my… they were going off to live with their new ‘people,’ all of which were blind.

It started out with a slide show, and the first song was Jack Johnson’s version of “We are gonna be friends.”  As the images flashed on the screen – the puppies with their trainers (the work Megan and Joe have been doing), and watching the dogs grow, train and work – My eyes already started to water. I reached into my coat pocket to rummage for a Kleenex. Megan, who had been told how emotional the day could be, handed me my very own plastic package.  

The presenters spoke about Guiding Eyes, about what happens there, about how this group that was graduating had been working with their new people for about three weeks. What an amazing pairing this is – seeing eye dog to blind person – personalities mesh, trust and love are built.

When the speaker thanked all of the devoted puppy trainers, explained the unselfishness of their actions – to raise a puppy, knowing it’s not their own for this very high purpose – a little sob actually escaped me. Megan’s initial words came back to me… “Yeah, it will be hard, but just think how awesome it would be if the dog does well and makes it through the program – it will go on to really help someone who needs it.”  I really saw that that day…

The trainers who had raised the puppies hadn’t seen the dogs at all during their last intensive (approximately) six months of training, but many were there to watch the dogs graduate. As the trainers went up to be acknowledged, as Megan and Joe might do someday for Clara, they couldn’t take their eyes off of the dogs they’d raised.  When the program ended, the trainers could go up and greet the new dog owners, say hello to the dogs they’d raised, and get a picture together. The dogs remembered the trainers, each so happy to reunite – like old pals after a long separation.  One woman that the kids know has already raised eight puppies for the Guiding Eyes program. She’s presently on her ninth.

Later, we took a tour of the facility. We met some older dogs, and some puppies too.  I was glad that Megan had thought to invite us – not only is it heartwarming to witness what happened that day, but it’s also good for Todd and me to better understand what she feels so passionately about.

                         Clara on a Rhode Island beach with Megan and her Uncle Tony

We hear a lot in this world about the negative – about robberies and muggings, about mall violence and worse. But I really wanted to share this story with all of you because there are sooo many good people out there in the world, just doing what they think they should, living their lives every single day for the betterment of others. These stories really need to be told, don’t you think?

Todd and I felt privileged to have attended the ceremony, and felt proud of the work that Megan and Joe have chosen to do.

Oh, and by the way, rumors are already circulating – something about another puppy joining their foster home in February…?  Only time will tell.  J

Katie Kolberg Memmel is the author of “Five Fingers, Ten Toes – A Mother’s Story of Raising a Child Born with a Limb Difference.” For more information, go to her website: www.katiekolbergmemmel.com

Thanksgiving, Part Two - But what did you Dooo...?

Thanksgiving, Part Two:

On Wednesday, Todd and I wanted to visit a winery, so Megan and Joe planned for us to visit two. One we’d been to before, and love. They pair their tastings with various cheeses and chocolates. It’s always fun to see how the flavors complement each other. The second winery was new to us, and had a fun little store attached. There’s nothing like wine-themed gifts for certain women on my Christmas list… ;)  For dinner the kids suggested the “Great American Pie Company.” If we went during the Early Bird Special (4-7 p.m.) we’d get our whole dinner (which Megan refers to as “comfort food” – chicken pot pie, shepherd’s pie, meatloaf, turkey, mac & cheese, etc.) plus a soft drink, plus a piece of pie/dessert for only $12.99. Sold! The food tasted great, and I’d agree with her – “comfort food” indeed.

Waking up on Thanksgiving morning with our daughter in the next room felt nice. It had been four years since we’d spent that holiday with her and Joe. A few weeks prior to us being there, she’d asked if we wanted to go to NYC to see the Macy’s parade. We attended and watched her march in it in 2004, and knew the 12-deep crowd sizes, etc. so we said we were okay watching it on television. She said that the dog would also like that decision. I was actually looking forward to a laid-back traditional day. When our two kids were younger, Todd always stopped at Cinnabon before Thanksgiving, and picked up cinnamon rolls to eat while we watched the parade. It was cute to see that they had arranged to make some cinnamon rolls for us, to carry on the tradition. We “Facetimed” with Tony (Lesleigh had to work), and wished him a Happy Thanksgiving. Megan carried her phone all around the house, showing him all of the pets (there are three) and told him what was new with each. Crazy town… J 

It was also nice to see Joe and Megan work together in the kitchen. Each had certain recipe suggestions. Unlike me, who has all of my recipes in old books and on tattered pieces of paper, they each have theirs on their phones. They conspired on the best way to baste the turkey, cover it with tinfoil, make side dishes, etc. Neither phone dropped into the gravy (that I know of…)

Megan and Joe moved to the east coast in 2010, less than two months after their wedding. It always meant a lot to me (as a mom) when their new friends/friends’ families invited the two to their own holiday celebrations. Even if 98% of the time you love your life and living arrangements, there’s something about “the holidays” that has the ability to make you feel lonely. So I was glad that they always were offered somewhere to go. Likewise, this year the kids invited a young family over for the day. They couldn’t get back home to Michigan, so they spent the day with us. It was funny to watch the Packers/Lions game, exchanging old memories of holiday games gone by. Of course the Packers didn’t do very well this year (sigh) … Oh well… The couple had a four-month old baby, and he was fun to oooh and aaah over for a while. Good company, good food, chilled wine – all in all a great day.

On Friday we took a little tour - saw where Megan works, and met a couple of her friends. We’d seen Joe’s workplace on a previous trip. The four of us went to see the Hunger Games movie and we all thought it was good – possibly better than the first. I read the whole series a while back, and it was good to have that memory, without it being fresh. That way I knew what was happening, but didn’t keep comparing the book and movie. If you’re interested, definitely go see it. Since it was Black Friday, we braved (dun dun duuuun) “the mall.” It was already 5:00 so we thought the crowds may be down a bit. There was a steady stream of cars/headlights and still seemed very busy, but we found some open parking by the Sears store. Todd loves Sears, so he didn’t mind strolling through. (You’ve heard of tip-toe thru the tulips? Well this was tip-toe thru the tools) (get it?)   ;)  The mall had just opened a Red Robin (Mmmmm) so the four of us each had a beer and a burger, and shared some good conversation.

One of our main reasons for going to the mall was to shop at the Hallmark store. Megan loves the “Willow” figurines, and as a Christmas gift, we wanted to add some pieces to her Nativity set.  No kidding – we were standing there looking at the Willow Nativity when all of a sudden a male store employee came up and said, “We have to close our store – there’s a fight in the food court.” Weird… So the four of us just sort of stood there as the two employees figured out what they should do. When we finally stepped into the mall, a woman walked by very fast, saying that there was a big fight in the food court and that someone had fired a gun. She was heading for the nearest exit – which wasn’t a real exit, but an emergency exit. Wow, was it strange for the four of us to follow her group down that long narrow hallway, looking for the door to the outside, not knowing exactly what had happened. When we got outside, there was a mass exodus occurring. Many stores and restaurants ushered their customers out. Since we’d parked on the opposite end of the mall, we passed by a lot of the chaos on the way to our car. As you can imagine, it felt eerie, we felt apprehensive and scared, and also very disappointed. Megan said it best, “What is this world coming to?”   

As Joe navigated our car from the mall’s mayhem, squad cars and ambulances squealed into the lot. Megan and Todd both tried to find information on their phones as to what had just happened. Later, as we watched the news from the safety of the kids’ living room, the reporters said that no gun had been used at the scene. Yes, there was a fight, and fifteen people had been involved, but no guns…  

What a strange night. I’ll never forget it.

Tune in soon for Part Three, Clara the Foster Dog. It’s an interesting story. 

God’s Blessings!

Katie Kolberg Memmel is the author of “Five Fingers, Ten Toes – A Mother’s Story of Raising a Child Born with a Limb Difference.” For more information, go to her website, www.katiekolbergmemmel.com  

Thanksgiving, Part One - Getting There is half the fun?

Before beginning this entry, I glanced back at my list of posts, and realized I haven’t blogged in over a month. What? That can’t be right! With all of the thoughts that fly through my head on a daily basis, how is it I haven’t written them down in 34 days??? But then again, it’s been a hectic time. Ye old blog counter does not lie, my friends. All we can do is move on from here, am I right? And so, that said, I am setting out to make up for lost time. By the time I’m done, you’ll all be sick to death of me and my bloggy blather. I promise… ;)

How’s everybody doing? Did you have Happy Thanksgivings? Are you enjoying your holiday preparations? Are you enjoying quiet nights in front of your fireplaces, sipping wine, gazing at twinkle lights? Or are you running around like headless barn fowl? Either way, (and it’s probably a bit of both) I wanted to share some of what Todd and I experienced over our own Thanksgiving weekend. This is considered Part One: 

A while back, Todd envisioned us driving to Connecticut to celebrate the holiday with Megan and Joe. He thought we could share the ride with Tony and Lesleigh, split up the driving, and have a nice weekend together – the six of us. But when it became revealed that the kids were moving to Nashville, Todd revised his travel ideas, fast forwarding to Plan B – Flight. After he made the plans I got so excited. We hadn’t seen Megan and Joe since April, when they came into town for a brief four-day weekend. Plus, flying would get us there in two shakes, leaving more time for our familial chitter chatter.

Todd booked us a flight that would leave Milwaukee on Tuesday at 6:30 p.m., head through Detroit with only a one-hour delay as we changed planes, and arrive at LaGuardia at 11:30. Then we would catch a shuttle to a rental car and be on our way up to Connecticut. Yes, we’d arrive at Megan’s in the wee hours of the morning, BUT it would also leave four full days of time with the kids.

Plans progressed nicely until the weather started to change – and I’m not talking about the weather in Milwaukee. It all started to swirl down in Texas. Then it started to move its way east. Then it started to move its way north. Before we knew it, there were flight delays across half of the country – no lie. And of course you know that the weather reporters had a field day with this. Here it was, Monday of Thanksgiving week, people traveling via all modes of transportation, and the media had a weather situation to talk about. They showed piles of snow in some states, cars flipped into ditches, freezing rain in other areas, vehicles sliding sideways into other cars… (sigh) I must admit my blood pressure began to rise. I think the elements can be rather scary!

Look, I know I have no control over the weather, and I know that Todd and I were only two of the “millions” that would be affected by whatever was coming.  I found that I had to stop watching the news reports because they only served to rev up my mood into an extremely negative place. Because, you see, I hadn’t seen my daughter in seven months, so I really just wanted/needed to get there, and deal with ‘whatever’ another day (sort of a denial, fiddle-dee-dee thing). In my mind, this had to work out, you know?

Of course Todd, Mr. Practical, was wielding his “It is what it is” philosophy, and of course he was right. It simply came down to this… either we’d fly or we wouldn’t. The airlines and other powers-that-be would decide. So I did what I could – I prayed about the situation. I asked God for safe travel for everyone over the highly-traveled holiday weekend. I asked that somehow things fall into place so that Todd and I could still get to see Megan and Joe. I acknowledged that if we had to be delayed, that I’d try to find the good in it, and would rather be late than not arrive at all. Then, after praying, I went out on a limb and asked my Facebook friends to pray for safe travel for everyone too. More than 60 of you responded – talk about a prayer chain!

Up until 4 p.m., our flight was still on time, so we drove to the airport to see what our night might hold. As soon as we got there we saw that our Detroit connection had a 90-minute delay. Since we only had an hour lay-over, this could be a problem.

Crazy as this seems, J  I saw there was a direct flight, leaving Milwaukee at 6 and arriving at LaGuardia at 9:30. “Did you know there was a direct flight?” I asked Todd. 

“Hmmm, no, I didn’t see it when I booked the flights, or I’d have taken it,” he said.

“I know it’s a long shot, but let’s see if it’s full – maybe we could still get on,” I suggested.

Of course our gate was as far as it physically could be – seriously – it was the last gate at the Milwaukee airport. I set down my “stuff” and said to the woman at the desk, “Hey, I’m sure that your direct flight to LaGuardia is probably booked solid, but you wouldn’t happen to have two seats would you? We’re supposed to go through Detroit, and…”

She cut me off. “What’s your name?”  I told her and she said, “You’re already ON the direct flight. It leaves in 40 minutes. Be ready to board in 20.”

WHAT??? I couldn’t believe my ears. Delta (or something) must have seen the delay, recognized the problem, and thought ahead enough to ease traveler’s dilemmas. Long story short, Todd and I left Milwaukee on time, and got to our destination two hours earlier than originally planned. Though the NY airport was hectic, the temperatures were still in the 40’s, so the rain that fell was not of the freezing variety. We secured our rental car, Todd programmed the GPS (which is a whole ‘nother story – man those things are something else, aren’t they?) and headed north to New Milford, CT.

The kids waited up for us, and we were able to have a nice little reunion before heading to bed.

I wanted to publicly share this story because I know that many of you actually did pray for safe travel that weekend – and our’s was a story with a positive outcome. I truly believe that Todd and I were direct recipients of an answer.

I felt blessed...

Katie Kolberg Memmel is the author of "Five Fingers, Ten Toes - A Mother's Story of Raising a Child Born with a Limb Difference." For more information, go to her website at: www.katiekolbergmemmel.com 

 

Nashville Bound...

                                                                    Nashville Bound

            So, ummm… I’m not sure if you’ve heard yet or not, but uhhh… Tony and Lesleigh Memmel (my son and his wife) are in the process of moving to Nashville. Even though Todd, Megan and I knew about their plans for a while, seeing the announcement hit Facebook made it all seem very real.

            On Tony and Lesleigh’s Facebook walls and on his Musician page, the two received many lovely well wishes: “Good Luck guys!” and “Congratulations!” and “You’re both so talented, you deserve this!” When I shared their news personally, I also heard many of the same comments, plus: “You must be so proud!” and “That’s great news!” and “Now you have someplace exciting to visit!”  Yes, yes, and yes, I agree with all of these kind comments. I believe the kids ARE talented and DO deserve this, we ARE proud, and Todd and I WILL have another place to visit.

            Then, privately, some of you also messaged me and asked how I’m really doing. You realized that with an exciting announcement such as this, also comes big changes within a family. You really understand that news like this can seem (I believe the word that was most often used is) “bittersweet” - a feeling of, well, mixed feelings.

            If I break down the word, bittersweet, then the more ‘bitter’ aspects of Tony’s move (for me) may include the fact that our daughter already lives a thousand miles away, in Connecticut – straight east. Since Nashville is practically straight south from Milwaukee, we’re not gaining any ground to see either couple more often. Another hard part may be that even though Tony and Les have toured for weeks at a crack, when they’re in town, they only live 12 miles down the road. Though Todd and I never just “drop by,” we know that it’s easy enough to get together. It’s been a joy for me to get the occasional early-morning text message that reads, “Hey mom, what are you doing today? Wanna grab a quick coffee?” And of course I do want to grab a quick coffee! While I was writing the book, we often sat together, discussing life’s events, memories, experiences, and emotions. It was a wonderful project that brought me much joy - a fun and easy time of exchange with him that I will treasure always.

            But, in keeping with one of my favorite REO songs, I know that I’ve got to roll with the changes. Ever since the day I became a mother – maybe even the day I learned I was expecting – I put my children first. What’s best for them? That is the question. Long distances cannot stand in the way of opportunity. Everyone knows that you go where the work is - the rest, we can figure out. We’ll get creative – maybe have a coffee date during a Skype session, whenever there’s time.  

So where does the “sweet” part of all of this come in?  

If you read my book, “Five Fingers, Ten Toes…” then you know that early on I worried how life might play out for Tony. Because he was born without a left forearm and hand, I wondered if or how he’d play sports and music, if he’d have friends or ever fall in love. In the early days after Tony was born, my pastor visited me. You might recall that he told me, “God often takes what the world considers weakness, and turns it into strength.”  I embraced that thought then, and lived with it tucked away in my memory for all of these years. I’ve watched Tony’s life unfold, and it has been so special. All of my early worries proved to be a waste of time, and my questions were (and continue to be) answered. Todd and I rooted at soccer and baseball games, listened as his band (RWK) practiced in our garage/basement, we attended drama performances, cheered at more marching band competitions than we can count, and drove to his college for most of his choir concerts. We watched him marry the love of his life, and saw him work really really hard to become a professional musician.   

    

            Consequently, when Tony and Lesleigh got home from their tour this past spring and said that they’d had an exceptional time in Nashville, as parents, Todd and I felt happy for them. After all, he’d been touring out on the road for a few years, traveling from city-to-city for many weeks at a time. Along with hundreds of good times, meeting so many Lucky Fin Project families and friends, sharing a message of doing what you love to do and not giving up - he also endured car trouble and other daily challenges. We’ve wanted ‘all good things’ for the kids and their music for as long as they’ve been making music. So all summer long, when they kept going back to Nashville, building on previous meetings and experiences, we felt that a move there may soon be inevitable. Music opportunities are what they’ve been working so hard to achieve, and what better place than a music city like Nashville? 

In today’s often-negative world, their story is a positive and uplifting one! They’ve worked hard, given this their all. I don’t know where this path will lead them exactly, or all of the in’s or out’s of what might happen once they get there; but they are together, they have each other, and I do think that it’s their ‘time’ to go, and to see what might 'be' for the future.

I’m choosing to trust God on this one… Has He been using what the world considers weakness, and turning it into strength? Well, as far as I can see, things are ‘so far, so good,’ don’t you think?

Good luck, Tony and Les - we wish you every good thing! You are in my (and soooo many other people's) thoughts and prayers…

Katie Kolberg Memmel is the author of “Five Fingers, Ten Toes… A Mother’s Story of Raising a Child Born with a Limb Difference.” For more information, go to her website: www.katiekolbergmemmel.com 

             

                       

                       

           

Follies of Fall's Foliage in Waukesha, Wis

 

A pretty tree, but not in my yard... ;) 



            I like to work outside in the yard, whenever I possibly can. I cut the grass, shovel the snow, pull the weeds – I hate to leave those types of projects to clutter Todd’s weekend, since after working 55+ hours every week, he has 1,001 other projects to complete. So imagine my delight with Waukesha, Wisconsin’s recent run of wonderful weather. Wow! How lucky I was to be able to cut the grass and pull the weeds when it was 70 degrees in the middle of October.

            So… one day last week, I emerged from my garage carrying my blue metal rake, a plastic trash can (in which I’d cart my leaves to the curb), and my 1980’s boom box – a girl’s gotta be able to listen to some good tunes while she works… As the garage door closed, I glanced up at the cloudless blue sky and breathed deep. “Good Morning!” I said to no one in particular, and headed up into the back yard.

            Only one of our five trees had lost its leaves, but that lone producer had yielded quite a healthy pile. I figured rather than leaving the job until all the leaves were grounded, I’d keep up with the workload this year, and rake little by little. However, there was nothing ‘little’ about this project.

            I don’t know how you are, but I usually start a project feeling energized. I clap my hands once, rub them together, and say, “Alright, let’s get ‘er done!” (or something along those lines…) I started that morning’s job the same way. With Madonna blasting through the airwaves encouraging me to, “Get into the groove…” I started raking one side of the yard. I carefully ran my rake along the back of our block wall, sure to snag each and every leaf from its early autumn hiding place. I filled the garbage can full to its brim, and made my first trek to the street. My goodness, it’s a beautiful day, hmmm… maybe even… warm? Is that perspiration on my forehead? No, not in October! I hiked back to the rear yard.

            I glanced around and realized it didn’t look like I’d even started yet. “Okay, let’s see what we can do here!” I said, giving myself a brief pep talk. I grabbed the rake and swiped around myself in a circle. Whew, this is quite a pile of leaves I’ve got here. I filled the garbage can a second time, packing the leaves down more firmly, trying to fit as many in as possible. Again I dragged the bin to the front yard’s curb, and dumped the load. Wow, it’s really warm for October, and yes, that’s definitely perspiration up there on my forehead!

            Just as the directions on a shampoo bottle read, “Lather, Rinse, Repeat,” I went about my task. “Rake, Load, Drag, Repeat.” I’d been at my project about 45 minutes, when I realized my left hand was already bleeding. I never knew I was so delicate! ;)  The skin between my left thumb and pointer finger had scraped off from rake pressure. Great – guess I should have worn my gardening gloves! However, if the truth be told, this slight distraction did provide me with the opportunity to take a break, get a drink of water, and get a lil Band-Aid for my ‘owie’… And H*ck! As long as I was inside, I took a second to jot down some ideas I’d had about this blog piece too. Finally, I felt cool again and went back outside, ready to finish my task.

            A few more trips to the curb, and I was almost finished. One more load of leaves till lunch… And then I noticed leaves swirling and twirling in the wind – falling from their now-bare branches onto my newly-raked green lawn. With my hands on my hips, I just had to ask the perpetrators, “Are you guys ever going to stop doing that?”  “No, silly, this is what we do this time of year,” one mocked at me before scuttling away. I knew that he? / she? was right. To provide Todd and me with cool shade during the hot summer months, the falling foliage needed to complete its yearly cycle.

            And then I knew that raking them up was the least I could do for all their dedicated summertime service…

Katie Kolberg Memmel is the author of “Five Fingers, Ten Toes – A Mother’s Story of Raising a Child Born with a Limb Difference.” For more information about the author or the book, visit her website at www.katiekolbergmemmel.com 



Golf or Gold?

My brother, Dan, and me at the GKO

 

Minus my mother, I was born into a family of avid golfers. Everyone else thoroughly enjoys a good round of ’18.’ Both of my brothers earned their early-life’s livings as caddies at a country club. As a child, I’d sit at the dinner table and listen to my father (who is usually a quiet man) talk at length about birdies, bogies, and pars, fairways, greens and tees. I heard jokes about golfers and their obsessions with the game, but never quite understood the punch lines. Since I was significantly younger than the rest of my siblings, the jury was out on whether or not I’d share their passion for ye old ‘balls and clubs’ routine, so I stored all of the information somewhere in the back of my mind, saving it for a rainy day. 

Let me say this… I wanted to like golf, I really did. After all, it seemed like the right thing to do. At first glance the game appeared amazing - played outside on immaculately-groomed lush green lawns, with sunny cloudless blue skies above… (sigh) When I’d drive by a course on the roadway, players appeared calm, relaxed, well-dressed (in a weird sort of way). No one seemed to be running, sweating or swearing. Since I’m not a big fan of any of those things, I was anxious to give it a go. I mean, who wouldn’t be, right?

The whole ritual appeared simple. I was told to approach the ball, address it. So when I walked up to the first tee of my life and said, “Well hello there, ball,” I don’t think my dad had quite gotten the golfing daughter of his dreams. I tried to choose the right club, but never quite understood the concept. My goal (should I choose to accept it) was to figure out which club would bring me ever-closer to that small hole, hundreds of yards off in the distance. Apparently that numbered flag out there wasn’t just for decoration – no siree! It was my mission – my end – the be all / end all. 
 
I can do this – nothin’ to it! Probably even a ‘hole in one.’

But do not be deceived - golf ain’t as easy as it looks! There is much to consider and much to remember, young Grasshopper. Directions flew fast and furious from more experienced players – even those whose scores weren’t much better than my own. “Let the club rest lightly in one hand; intertwine fingers ‘just so’ with the other hand. Choke up on the club, but not too much. Bend your knees, but just a little!” (A golf instructor once told me to squat as though going to the bathroom – oh yes, yes he did!)

“Keep your eye on the ball – do NOT take your eye off the ball. If you do take your eye off the ball, you’ll never hit the ball – you’ll just whiff at it. (I did and do this often.)  Oh, and keep your left arm straight – but relaxed.” Now, in my mind, ‘straight but relaxed’ is not possible – I feel I should pick one of the two. But no… that theory does not pay off for a good game of golf.

When all of the instructions were followed and aligned perfectly, I heard the club hit the ball with a crack. Thank God!  It flew in a beautiful arc, high and far, and I knew that I was well on my way to the hole. Wow, all of that and I’m still on the first tee. I knew it wasn’t my sport when I started counting down how many more times I’d have to do that before celebrating with a long, tall, cold one!  Hmmm, let’s see here – 9 holes, 10 strokes per hole – I’ll only have to swing 89 more times…

My dad and me on Father's Day, 2013

 

For me, my pre-conceived idea of golf had all been an illusion. I did run. I did sweat. And though I don’t swear often, golf made me feel like breaking my own rule. And from an up-front-and-personal view (no longer on the roadway, but now on the fairway) I witnessed these same unattractive traits in others too.  Note:  My dad, is one of the rare level-headed golfers that I never saw lose his cool or his temper – simply loves the game, come what may. He was a good teacher, despite my own lack of skill. Other family members also fall into this category - overall a family of 'good sports!'

My brother hosts a golf outing each fall which he affectionately nicknamed the Greater Kolberg Open (GKO). For the past 30 years, through windy and rainy (but mostly sunny) days, we have golfed. Not everybody every year – I hadn’t even been pregnant yet when this all started. But I figure once a year, whether I love it or not, I can honor my family’s favorite tradition and get my backside out on the course. With a big smile on my face, I’ve come in last place more times than I can count; but I’ve also made some wonderful high and arc-y shots, and improved from year to year. It feels good to get outside – and even to ‘talk shop’ with the rest of the clan, while we pop open beers and discuss our pars, birdies and bogies, (and for me, lack-of-pars and quadruple or quintuple bogies)  ;)

Some people were born to golf – others of us were born to other things. For me, I’d rather write about the game than play it. But then again, if I’d never played the game, how could I write about it?

And just look at how much fun I’d have missed…

Katie Kolberg Memmel is the author of "Five Fingers, Ten Toes - A Mother's Story of Raising a Child Born with a Limb Difference." For more information about purchasing the book, or about the author, go to her website at www.katiekolbergmemmel.com 

 

 

God Bless the Grandparents of the World...

            The truth is that I (pretty much) lived my life without grandparents. My mom’s parents both passed away before I was born. My dad’s parents were alive, but they lived in Oregon.I maybe saw them once a year – maybe! That grandfather died when I was 11 years old, which left my grandma. She continued to live in Oregon, but when she visited our conversations grew a little deeper, and a bit more meaningful. She did get to attend my wedding, but then died less than a month later.

            When I met and married Todd, he still had both full sets of grandparents. It seemed so strange to me to have that constant grandparental influence in his everyday-life, and to have these four older family members as such a large part of all their family’s events and holidays. I never personally had the opportunity to relate to what that grandparent/child/grandchild relationship meant or what its true value was (or even could be).

           My first real glimpse of how sweet the relationship could be was when my sister and her husband had their first child, John. I was only 13 at the time, and probably the youngest ‘aunt’ of everyone I knew. It was fun to see my mom and dad’s reactions to the baby, and how they enjoyed and embraced their new role of grandparents. Since I’m the youngest of four kids, more nephews and finally a couple of nieces followed – each child thought of in some special way by my mom and dad.  

           When my son, Tony, was born in 1985, without a left forearm and hand, our two sets of parents were the first calls Todd made. They all handled the news fine on the phone, but they each told me later that after they hung up, they all shed some tears. I’ve since learned that it’s natural for those who love us (in this case it was our parents) to look inward at a time like that, examining their own family medical histories. They desperately tried to connect some dot from somewhere – anywhere - down some familial blood line that would explain why in the world this had happened to their children (Todd and me) and their brand new grandson (Tony)… sort of a “was it something we ever did?” reaction.

Later that day when I called my mom again, this time from my hospital bed, she tried to talk to me about the baby and what had happened earlier that morning, but I cut her off short, saying I wanted to move past ‘the arm thing,’ and not talk about it ‘anymore.’ Funny to think about that now because it seems that most of my adult life has been spent talking about that very thing - and now I’ve even written a book about it! But on that particular day, I was hurting… and so were our parents. (Here’s a link for more info about the book)

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_0_13?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=katie%20kolberg%20memmel&sprefix=katie+kolberg%2Caps%2C132&rh=i%3Aaps%2Ck%3Akatie%20kolberg%20memmel  

            Ever since I had kids of my own (now mine are grown) I can honestly say that I love those two kids more than I love myself. I’d rather have something of serious consequence happen to me than to either one of them. And I’m sure most good parents feel something similar to that – just like my parents did. When they heard that our child had been born with a ‘birth difference,’ they hurt for us, and questioned what the future might hold for all of us. At that moment if they could have stepped in and endured our worry for us, they probably would have… in a heartbeat.

            But that’s not the way it works - we all need to see our own lives through. The best our parents could do was to be supportive, show us they loved us, stop by, hold the baby, make some lunch, babysit occasionally, lend an open ear and a strong shoulder to lean on once in a while. That’s all any of us can do for each other. But it’s a lot…  

            Since becoming a part of the Lucky Fin Project, I’ve witnessed first-hand the love some of these grandmas and grandpas have for their little grandkids. I’ve found a real soft spot in my heart for the grandparents of this world. From little on, I didn’t really know what that relationship felt like; but as I age, I’m seeing such a beautiful connection between grandparents and their grandkids. I love to step back and watch familial interactions, watch the expressions on their faces, read the love they have in their eyes as they watch the kids run and play, and receive the occasional on-the-fly hug. As many of you know, both of my children have been married since 2009, so I get asked quite often, “Do you have any grandchildren yet?” and I answer, “No, not yet, but I’m sure I’ll enjoy it if I ever have that opportunity. ” Every single person that I know, who is blessed with grandchildren, reiterates how much they enjoy their role of grandma or grandpa or nana or papi or hampa or dramma – whatever their little loved ones happen to call them.

            But one thing is certain… the love runs deep. Grandparents love their own children (just like I admitted to loving my own), and when they look into those brand new little faces of the next generation, it’s like reliving their own early parenting experiences (without the responsibility of parenting) except for that they now deeply love TWO people (three, four, five, whatever the number) more than life itself – their own son or daughter and their brand new grandchild. Those grandmas and grandpas love in the good times and in the very toughest of times. They hurt with us and for us.

Is it possible that the more people we have to love, the more love we seem to have to give? From what I’ve seen, the answer is… yes. God bless the grandparents! 

Katie Kolberg Memmel is the author of “Five Fingers, Ten Toes – A Mother’s Story of Raising a Child Born with a Limb Difference.” For more information, go to her website: www.katiekolbergmemmel.com 

A Perfect Marriage...? I don't think so...

            Yesterday was our wedding anniversary. As of September 19, 2013, Todd and I have been married for 32 years. Here’s a photo of us coming out of our church on that gorgeous Saturday afternoon, dodging rice, as the old custom dictated. Doesn’t it look as though we didn’t have a care in the world?  We were both 20 – I’d just turned, and Todd was soon-to-be 21. Wow…

            I received so many beautiful “Congratulations” wishes, along with “May you share many more years…” sorts of notes. Thank you to all who sent those sentiments.  The encouragements are always so… well… encouraging! ;)  I also received several private messages asking me questions like, “What’s your secret?” and “How’d you do it?” I want to thank you for those messages too, because oddly enough, there’ve been some marital thoughts rolling around in my brain for a few weeks now, and your questions finally prompted me to reflect long enough to write them down. 

            If you read my blog posts regularly, then you know that about three weeks ago Todd and I went to an old friend’s daughter’s wedding. (See my post from 8/30/13, entitled “These are the best of days.”)  As we sat in the great big beautiful Catholic church, watching the two youngsters promise and pledge love to each other until the day they pass, I seemed to be paying closer attention than maybe I’d paid in the past. Don’t get me wrong – I’ve always loved a good wedding – but possibly, the older I get, the more years and challenges that Todd and I add to our combined life’s calendar, the more the vows speak to me. Beautiful, but challenging…!    

            Consider these traditional scripture verses (1 Corinthians 13: 4-8) (NRSV) that have been read at most of the weddings I’ve ever attended – Christian or not – because the verses speak about something all humans strive for and crave… “love.”  

            “Love is patient, love is kind. Love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way. It is not irritable or resentful. It does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends…” 

            So there you have it – to be married for 32 years, Todd and I must be perfect, right??? WRONG!!!   

            These passages reflect God’s perfect thoughts about love, and ‘perfect’ they truly are. As humans, none of us – NONE. OF. US. – can follow these directives perfectly every minute of every day.  Just think about it…  Have you ever lost patience? What unkind things have you said? Have you insisted on having your own way, no matter what? How about irritable – after a long day at work, have you felt the irritation boiling up, maybe to the point of blowing your top? Have you ever felt envious or resented your spouse because something good is happening for them, when nothing good seems to be happening for you? Have you ever thought, “YES! He/she got exactly what she/he deserved! Na na na na na na na…? (No, me neither…) ;)  Have you always held the belief that things will turn out, hoped they’d turn out, endured when things didn’t turn out…?  Because, according to God, love never ends… (it really does say ‘never ends.’)

            Hmmm… So since none of us mere mortals are capable of complete and wonderful patience and kindness, not to mention the rest of this lengthy list, what should we do? 

            Good question – and the answer will vary according to each individual, each couple, each family, and so on. BUT there is a belief and a thought that “love” is not just a thing – not just a noun. A friend of mine once told me that she envisioned ‘patience’ coming over her like a cloak, just falling onto her shoulders and enveloping her, just perfectly. She had to laugh, knowing how unlikely that scene is. Rather, “to love” is a verb. It’s an action – it’s a choice… I choose to love you every single day – even when you’re not that loveable and not that ‘great.’ ;)  I choose patience and kindness even when I’m feeling arrogant or envious or rude. Maybe because I love, I look at a situation from YOUR point of view and ask myself – do I need ‘my own way’ right now, or is he/she right this time…? Tough? You bet! Humbling? Uhhh Yepp! 

            And the whole point of these actions is that BOTH people in the marriage need to act in these ways. I’ll admit that that’s a pretty perfect scenario, and it doesn’t quite happen like that every single time. You may even alternate in these actions sometimes, but both partners need to be plugged in. But when both people can eventually look at things and come to agreements and compromises and apologize and say “I love you,” then marriage grows and stands a good chance.

 

            Years ago, during a Bible study at my church, we looked at some of the passages about “bearing with” each other. And the point was made that you’ve got to remember that while you are trying to grin and bear it with your spouse, they are also bearing with you. You’re not perfect either – no one is.

            So, what am I trying to say here? Well… since no one is perfect – not even you – and certainly not me - and you know and acknowledge that fact, then your marriage stands a chance. If you’ve got someone who loves you, who you believe wants the best for you (most of the time), and is pretty patient and pretty kind (most of the time) and can say, “Hey, I was wrong this time,” (sometimes)… If the person treats you and your children well, then there’s a good chance you can salvage that marriage and make it work (‘work’ being the operative word). Just like patience won’t fall over you like a cloak, neither will a wonderful marriage. It does take some work! It does! But hopefully, in the long run, that work will be worth it and pay off.

            I think that when we keep these 1 Corinthians verses near and close to our daily lives, our chances of a good life with others, increases. And when we keep their author (Christ) at the core and center of ALL of our dealings, it’s actually our only true chance for true success in our relationships. 

            …and (for now) that’s all I’ve got to say about that…  Thanks for asking J  

Katie Kolberg Memmel is the author of “Five Fingers, Ten Toes – A Mother’s Story of Raising a Child Born with a Limb Difference. It is available through Amazon. For more information, go to her website www.katiekolbergmemmel.com 

These are the Best of Days!

A couple of months ago, Todd and I received a wedding invitation for this weekend. A dear friend of mine from high school, a guy who I’ve always valued as a great confidante and pal, is going to be walking his lovely first-born child down the aisle. The closer the day gets, the more I’m thinking about their family, and the awesomeness they'll all experience. The closer the day gets, the more I’m also reminiscing about our own family’s wedding experiences as well.  

Todd and I have been through these most precious of wedding weekends twice. Each was totally different from the standpoint that we had one son and one daughter – parental responsibilities totally different for each of our children.

In January of 2009, our son, Tony, married the love of his life, Lesleigh. As soon as they announced their engagement, early plans began forming. Guest lists were assembled, logistics of January-in-Wisconsin (possible snowstorms) guest travel discussed, scouting of a hall suitable to hold the desired amount of guests, things like that.  As the parents of the groom, we had a rehearsal dinner to plan, along with some other commitments that we divided with Lesleigh’s family. I bought an outfit for the big day, Lesleigh announced that she and her mom found “the perfect bridal gown,” and the wedding party, including our daughter and her fiancé, was formed.

During the planning, was there any arguing or wrangling? In a simple word, Yes. Parents, who have been to, and participated in, many-a-wedding, tend to have oodles of advice to dispense. I will admit that much. Not all of the advice is welcomed and embraced. So what’s new? That’s the interaction between kids, parents, and families sometimes. When all was said and done, the plans played out beautifully. (sigh)

The rehearsal dinner that we planned came off without a hitch. We decided on a restaurant, but wanted our own separate room, so that toasts could be easily made and heard. I’ll be real honest – sometimes in my own marriage I’ve wondered what Todd is thinking; but at that rehearsal dinner, in front of 40 or 50 guests, quiet Todd stood up and made the most beautiful speech about marriage, both our own, and the one that Tony and Les would be committing to. That event was one of the very best moments of my life.

The next day, our son stood at the front of the church where he’d been baptized and confirmed, next to the same pastor who baptized and confirmed him. (Rare? Yes. Special? Wow!) Each bridal couple walked down the aisle together, as Tony’s guitar-playing friend played the most beautiful instrumental piece. Finally, Lesleigh appeared in the doorway with her dad. With tears in his eyes, Tony motioned for her to hurry up and get there, he could wait no longer. This made everyone both laugh and cry harder.

January 3, 2009 was truly one of the best days of my life – a day of true joy.

 

And then in December of the same year, just eleven months later, Megan and Joe said “I do.” I shopped with Megan, helping her find the perfect dress. She looked great in just about everything she tried on. But there was this one dress – a little pricier than the rest, yes. But it was Just. So. Beautiful. “Just give this one a try,” I urged.  And Wow! That was it. Just seeing my baby girl standing there in that beautiful white gown brought out the tears. We bought it.

During the wedding preparations, was there any arguing or wrangling? Ummm, yes, a little… after all, we are talking about a mother and a daughter here. Sometimes wires cross and tempers flare. I’ll admit to that much. But again, when all was said and done, the day played out beautifully. (sigh) (again)

Because the wedding was the week before Christmas, we used the poinsettias in the church to our favor. Todd strung extra white twinkle lights through garland, and arranged the flowers along the church altar. People exclaimed, “Wow! That’s how I want my own wedding to look!” We’ll add wedding decorations to Todd’s long list of talents – not really kidding… ;)

Both my daughter and I can tend to be a bit emotional – tears flow pretty easily. But on her wedding day, Megan absolutely beamed. She had a smile on her face from ear to ear. Watching my husband, her daddy, walk her down the aisle of the church and pass her hand to Joe’s, is unlike any experience I can describe. It was highly emotional, that’s for sure. That’s our precious daughter. That’s our little girl. A look passed between Todd and Joe – something like Take care of her – promise me! (Maybe I should add a few more exclamation marks there) TAKE CARE OF HER – PROMISE ME!!!!! Somehow, marrying your daughter is very serious business. J

After the ceremony, in true Megan and Joe fashion, they walked to the back of the church where Joe proceeded to wrap his arms around her and lift her up off her feet – the two looked so happy. Along with Joe’s parents and family, now joining our own, we all ate, danced, drank a glass of beer or wine (or two)… Todd got up and made another amazing toast – this time as “Father of the Bride.” I thought my heart would leap from my chest. He may not say much, but I’ll tell you what – when he wants to, he certainly can say what’s on his mind – beautifully too! Every guest in the room was there to celebrate the joining of our daughter and her new husband. Do days get any better than this? I doubt it.

December 19, 2009, was truly one of the best days of my life – a day of true joy.

So as Todd and I attend our friend’s daughter’s wedding, we reflect back on how it felt for us to celebrate two such joyful weddings of our own. As he walks his little girl down the aisle, we’ll watch if that silent vow is made between him and her new husband, we’ll listen as he toasts the new couple, saying what’s on his heart, and know the joy he’s feeling.

And so… Dear old friend, today I’m thinking of your whole family as you enter this amazing wedding weekend. May it be beautiful and joy-filled!

For what life has to offer, believe me when I say, “These are the best of days!”

God’s Blessings!

Katie Kolberg Memmel is the author of "Five Fingers, Ten Toes - A Mother's Story of Raising a Child Born with a Limb Difference." For more information, visit her website at www.katiekolbergmemmel.com 

Helping Hands Midwest Picnic

August, 2013 – it cannot possibly be August, 2013!!! I think I blinked and I missed it. The summer is flying by, and the last month has gone especially fast for me. We were not home from our vacation for five days, and we were “On the road again…” (Sing like Willie Nelson)… “We just couldn’t wait to get on that road again…” (Still singing but now with my own made-up lyrics…)  ;) 

Anyway, many months ago Todd and I were invited to attend the “Helping Hands Midwest” picnic in Harrison, Ohio. This picnic day/weekend is a time for families of children with limb differences – along with some adults with limb differences – families and friends to get together. I said to Todd, “We should really go this year. I think it will be great fun to personally meet so many of the people I talk with online every day.”  He consented, of course, and vowed to take a vacation day from his job to drive me to the event. I reserved a hotel room at the Holiday Inn, and began looking forward to what the weekend might hold for us.

From our home in Waukesha, Wis, it proved to be a 6.5 hour drive. Everyone who lives ‘round these parts knows enough to pad their trip times with the reality of (dun dun dun) “Chicago.” How can there be a perpetual traffic jam in Chicago? Winter, spring, summer, fall, morning, noon and night – no matter when we go through Chicago, there’s traffic… hmmm – a blog for another day perhaps???  ;)  Todd and I enjoyed a nice drive. We witnessed a few sights we’d never seen before – our GPS routed us straight through the downtown portion of Indianapolis, which was fun. We also marveled at how pretty southern Indiana becomes, with its green rolling hills.  

It was interesting – from the moment we got to our hotel, I found myself watching for families of kids with “lucky fins” - a.k.a. limb differences.  As parents of kids born with differences, we talk quite often about people who stare at our kids, as well as the range of responses we might use in that type of situation. Yet on that Friday, I was the one staring at our kids! I made sure to smile, hopefully creating a feeling of open communication – hopefully conveying the feeling of ‘I do belong here…'

Ever since the spring of 2009, when I began communicating on the limb difference forum which ultimately led me to write my book, (http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=kaite+kolberg+memmel ) I’ve chatted with some of these young families. We’ve exchanged laughs, tears, photos, you name it! So imagine my joy when one young dad, complete with two little girls running beside him and a baby in his arms, got on our elevator.

“Are you J__?” I asked him, knowing full well he was J__.  

“Yes I am…” he responded.

“Is your wife M__?”

“Why, yes she is…!” he said, seeming a bit amazed that a complete stranger knew that fact.

“I’ve chatted with her online for quite a while,” I confessed, not wanting him to think this was somehow creepy or anything.

“Oh, that’s great,” he said. “We were just in our room listening to The Lucky Fin Song, by Tony Memmel. The girls love that song,” he explained.

This exchange was too dear for words and I could resist no longer. “Oh, that’s awesome!” I pointed at Todd and said, “We are Tony’s mom and dad.”

Though we’d never personally met this young dad, he seemed to relax immediately, the smile on his face broadening. The two older girls seemed to love the fact that they’d just met Tony’s parents. And when I actually met M___, we recognized each other immediately and hugged tightly, having bonded long ago with our shared stories of our kids’ births and lives.

And that’s just one example of how the weekend turned out. The picnic’s coordinator, Kim, was so gracious and happy to meet Todd and me, and treated us like a king and queen. After we signed in and they snapped a photograph of our family (above), she offered us a table from which I could sign and sell my books. Todd and I were able to stand back and watch all of the children run and play – not a care in the world that day – playing soccer and baseball, doing crafts, you name it! I met Molly Stapelman, the founder of “The Lucky Fin Project.” We’d communicated via the internet for years, exchanged Christmas greetings via snail mail, and even chatted on the phone. But meeting her, her husband Dan, and her daughters, proved to be a wonderful and enriching experience for me. I chatted with so many other parents too, high-fived a lot of little children with and without limb differences, laughed and even wiped a tear or two.

It’s funny, isn’t it? When you have something like this in common with people, everything else in life fades away. For all the time spent thinking about what to wear or which shoes would be most comfortable, no one seemed to care what anyone looked like or how they were dressed. It didn’t seem to matter where we lived or from which side of the political aisle we hailed.

We all love someone living with a limb difference, and that’s what bonds us.

We talked about important issues - our birthing days, prosthetics, our kids’ first days of school, and did we endure any teasing? How would their child grip a bat or a baseball glove? Might they someday play guitar or another instrument? How would their little girl pull her hair into a ponytail or paint her fingernails? These are some of the hard, pressing topics that plague and bond parents of kids with differences. And though I hadn’t been in the immediate game of child raising for quite some time, those questions had been such a big part of our life for so many years, I found that I fit right in. In fact, people sought and seemed to value my input and my opinion.

But for me personally, what I felt the best about, what I felt most privileged to witness, was how much everyone seemed to like Tony and Lesleigh. The little kids seemed to feel so at ease, talking with him, telling him stories, high-fiving his little arm with their own, strumming his guitar, whatever moved them at the time. Lesleigh did a lot of filming that day, working towards their goal of completing a beautiful music video they’d been working on for the Lucky Fin Project.

When Tony was a little boy, I can’t even tell you how many times I wondered how his life would turn out.  So to watch him with the kids that day, many of whose parents question how their own kids’ futures may play out, I can’t help but marvel at how well things have gone. Will he ever date, find someone to love him? Will he get married? A resounding yes, yes and yes! And not only did he find someone who loves him and wanted to marry him, she works solidly by his side every step of the way. What mom could ever ask for more than that for her kids?

And so, Todd and I drove back home on Sunday feeling motivated, inspired, and moved by all we’d heard and seen over the weekend. Three days later, on Wednesday, I received a private message from Tony in my Facebook inbox, asking us to watch the brand new “Lucky Fin Song” video that he had just finished editing, and to provide him with our feedback. If tears count, then I’d say all of our feedback was positive. He formally released the video on Monday, August 12. You can watch the video here:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3Q8pRO_4MI

The truth is that none of us ever knows what lies ahead. We take steps in our lives, never sure of exactly where they’ll lead us or how they’ll turn out. So down the road, when you’re old like me, ;) it is beyond fascinating to be able to look back and weigh out all of the worries and fears, joys and triumphs, and see both of my children’s lives progressing so nicely. We are blessed indeed…

All of us need to take life one step at a time, day by day… but as of today, I just want to say I’m proud of all my kids: Tony, Lesleigh, Megan and Joe - and all of the wonderful work you’re doing in the world. Stay strong and persevere! ...Oh, and always trust...!

Katie Kolberg Memmel is the author of “Five Fingers, Ten Toes – A Mother’s Story of Raising a Child Born with a Limb Difference.” It is available through Amazon. For more information, visit her website at www.katiekolbergmemmel.com