Karen Rust and Tiffany Strong in 1983, Tiffany was 18 months old.
Tiffany Strong and Maxwell Strong in 2012, Maxwell is 11 months old.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Friday, May 11, 2012
Mother's Day 2012 - My post to mom's.
This is my first Mother's Day. I have always wanted to be a mother. I even became a teacher to "mother" other children. I love being Max's Mom, it brings me an endless amount of joy, and is truly a miracle. I am Max's Mom, that is my title, and how could I not love the sound of that?
My Mother was beautiful. She was graceful, athletic, and caring. She was not only a mother to me, but a nurse and my best friend. My Mom and I would take long walks down on the Delaware River Trail. Long walks...hours...
My mom and I could talk! We would laugh, cry, fight, and work everything on our walks. I remember the day I asked my Mom about kissing. I wondered where she had her first kiss, and she walked me to the tree where she had her first kiss. (My Mom grew up in the same town as I did, so she literally walked me to the tree) There in the tree was a heart with her initials and the boy she kissed initials. My Mom was a romantic.
My Mother is watching over me all the time, I see her in Max, I remember her daily, I listen to her favorite songs. I keep her close to my heart. I love her, and can't wait to take walks with her again.
I also have been privileged to have another amazing Woman in my life. I couldn't have grown up without her.
Fran Caswell, mother, friend, confidant, all around amazing person. My family moved to 330 Pennington Harbourton Rd when I was entering 1st grade. Fran and her husband Brad lived next door. Little did they know they would be in for a life change. My family quickly became best friends/family to Fran and Brad. Fran was the cool neighbor. She gave me my first Coke, and let me drink Fresca. She also let me play on her computer and watch "Home Improvement" whenever I wanted. Awesome! Fran could tease me, and make fun of me which I needed. Fran has a daughter named Sarah, who I call "Sister." Sarah and I are two lucky girls to have Fran.
Fran taught me to have a back bone. She is where I get my ability to add sarcasm into any situation. Most importantly Fran can give the BEST hugs. She was always available for a hug. She has seem me through a lot in my life, more than I think she was bargaining for when the Rust's moved in. She is and always will be the first person I call when I need advice, a good cry, or just have exciting news. Fran is the Mother I know Karen Rust is happy that I have.
My Mother was beautiful. She was graceful, athletic, and caring. She was not only a mother to me, but a nurse and my best friend. My Mom and I would take long walks down on the Delaware River Trail. Long walks...hours...
My mom and I could talk! We would laugh, cry, fight, and work everything on our walks. I remember the day I asked my Mom about kissing. I wondered where she had her first kiss, and she walked me to the tree where she had her first kiss. (My Mom grew up in the same town as I did, so she literally walked me to the tree) There in the tree was a heart with her initials and the boy she kissed initials. My Mom was a romantic.
My Mother is watching over me all the time, I see her in Max, I remember her daily, I listen to her favorite songs. I keep her close to my heart. I love her, and can't wait to take walks with her again.
My Mom. This is at the Canal that we would take our "walks."
I also have been privileged to have another amazing Woman in my life. I couldn't have grown up without her.
Fran Caswell, mother, friend, confidant, all around amazing person. My family moved to 330 Pennington Harbourton Rd when I was entering 1st grade. Fran and her husband Brad lived next door. Little did they know they would be in for a life change. My family quickly became best friends/family to Fran and Brad. Fran was the cool neighbor. She gave me my first Coke, and let me drink Fresca. She also let me play on her computer and watch "Home Improvement" whenever I wanted. Awesome! Fran could tease me, and make fun of me which I needed. Fran has a daughter named Sarah, who I call "Sister." Sarah and I are two lucky girls to have Fran.
Fran taught me to have a back bone. She is where I get my ability to add sarcasm into any situation. Most importantly Fran can give the BEST hugs. She was always available for a hug. She has seem me through a lot in my life, more than I think she was bargaining for when the Rust's moved in. She is and always will be the first person I call when I need advice, a good cry, or just have exciting news. Fran is the Mother I know Karen Rust is happy that I have.
Fran and Brad
Happy Mother's Day to all Mothers!
Thursday, May 10, 2012
What a week it has been!
Max loves Nutra-Grain bars, especially the strawberry ones. Jelly Face Max!
I have more pictures from the museum trip that I will post soon!
Monday, May 7, 2012
VOTE FOR MAX
Hello there everyone!
Thanks for the last vote, because guess what? MAX IS A FINALIST!
Can you go to this link and vote one more time.
http://photos.parents.com/parents-cover-contest-2012/19/2012/2306?esrc=nwphotofaves_pmcover12
Please send it to your friends and family.
There is a college scholarship prize for the winner and also he will make it onto the cover of Parent magazine!
You can vote everyday if you want! But just once is fine.
Thank you for all your love and support with this contest.
Love,
Tiffany and Max
Thanks for the last vote, because guess what? MAX IS A FINALIST!
Can you go to this link and vote one more time.
http://photos.parents.com/parents-cover-contest-2012/19/2012/2306?esrc=nwphotofaves_pmcover12
Please send it to your friends and family.
There is a college scholarship prize for the winner and also he will make it onto the cover of Parent magazine!
You can vote everyday if you want! But just once is fine.
Thank you for all your love and support with this contest.
Love,
Tiffany and Max
Friday, May 4, 2012
Sarah "Dewi" Caswell
When I was ten years old my life changed for the better.
My second mother Fran Caswell gave birth to the cutest little girl I have ever seen. She loved me, and I loved her. We should be blood sisters. But what does blood prove?
After Sarah was born I took her everywhere. I am pretty sure she thought she was cool by hanging out with me - but to be honest - I was the cool one. Sarah would come to my lacrosse and field hockey games, I would take her to the pool, shopping, to friends houses. I even dressed her up as an M&M matching me one Halloween. All of my friends knew Sarah, and she knew my friends. It was great!
Sarah is now TWENTY years old! TWENTY!! She goes to Hamilton College, has a DECLARED MAJOR (which I don't 100% understand but am so proud of her!), and is the goalie for Hamilton's Lacrosse team. Most importantly she is Max's Godmother.
Her birthday was May 2nd. I had my 5th grade class call her and sing "Happy Birthday" to her.
Sarah is the best little sister EVER!
I love you Sarah. Max and Will love you too. Thanks for being in my life. Thanks for making my life better. Thanks for teaching me that love is unconditional. You are THE BEST!
My second mother Fran Caswell gave birth to the cutest little girl I have ever seen. She loved me, and I loved her. We should be blood sisters. But what does blood prove?
After Sarah was born I took her everywhere. I am pretty sure she thought she was cool by hanging out with me - but to be honest - I was the cool one. Sarah would come to my lacrosse and field hockey games, I would take her to the pool, shopping, to friends houses. I even dressed her up as an M&M matching me one Halloween. All of my friends knew Sarah, and she knew my friends. It was great!
Sarah is now TWENTY years old! TWENTY!! She goes to Hamilton College, has a DECLARED MAJOR (which I don't 100% understand but am so proud of her!), and is the goalie for Hamilton's Lacrosse team. Most importantly she is Max's Godmother.
Her birthday was May 2nd. I had my 5th grade class call her and sing "Happy Birthday" to her.
Sarah is the best little sister EVER!
I love you Sarah. Max and Will love you too. Thanks for being in my life. Thanks for making my life better. Thanks for teaching me that love is unconditional. You are THE BEST!
Happy Birthday Godmother Sarah!
This is Max and Sarah at Thanksgiving!
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Be Kind
I read this story today and had to share. It made me tear up and think "Would I have done the same?"
A NYC Taxi driver wrote:
I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.
There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.
'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.
She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'
'Oh, you're such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive
through downtown?'
'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly..
'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.
I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice..'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired.Let's go now'.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse.
'Nothing,' I said
'You have to make a living,' she answered.
'There are other passengers,' I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.
'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.'
I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..
I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.
We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
(Thank you Homestead Survival for this story)
A NYC Taxi driver wrote:
I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.
There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.
'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.
She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'
'Oh, you're such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive
through downtown?'
'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly..
'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.
I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice..'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired.Let's go now'.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse.
'Nothing,' I said
'You have to make a living,' she answered.
'There are other passengers,' I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.
'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.'
I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..
I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.
We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
(Thank you Homestead Survival for this story)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)