The gift of family

The other day someone said to me, why are you still single?

I was not sure how to answer that question. I replied with some version of my reasonably standard answer. I am open to a relationship and even willing to pursue something that comes my way. That being said, I do not feel the need to be married, and so I would consider a relationship a bonus to the vibrant life I already have.

I often wonder why is my heart mostly content as a single woman when I know others who long for nothing more than to be in a relationship? Occasionally I  take inventory of my heart and ensure that I am remaining open to new relationships, opportunities, lessons and struggles and friendships. I know for some of my single friends, the holidays can be very lonely.

Whenever I am seeking out the answer to my contentedness, I often land on the gift of my very supportive family. We are by no means perfect in how we interact or love one another, but we have figured some things out and do them well.

Christmas, Eve I was invited to celebrate Christmas with my sister’s family. For 18 years my Aunt Dot, my Mom and Dad and I have celebrated with Arlene and Dan and their kids. It is always a good time and each year I am amazed at how they have all grown up so good. There is something so sweet about the feeling of belonging.


Tonight I gathered with Suzi and Andy and family to celebrate Christmas. This also brings me such joy. It is always a sweet evening of laughter, conversation, generous giving, and gratitude. It was again a night where I left with a full heart, grateful that my sister and her family embrace me in ways that enhance my life and include me in spaces that as a single woman, I do not have on my own.

As this Christmas season comes to a close, I am very grateful for the spaces I share in the closeness of those family spaces. I am thankful for parents and sisters and brothers and nieces and nephews and aunts who embrace my single life and invite me in.

As I think about the bold person who asked me why I am still single, I would just add this, yes I am willing to consider a relationship, but I can confidently assure you, my heart is not lacking. I am beautifully loved by many, and perhaps best by those, I call my family!

2018 in review

How can it be the end of 2018 already?

In my line of work, we are always scheduling a month ahead, and today I began to sort the February schedules. I am aware that the days sometimes seem slow but the weeks and months seem to move quickly. We are often looking ahead, planning for the future and running at a rapid pace to complete the day and all it holds.

Before New Year’s Eve, I plan to take some time and reflect back on my year.

What have been the themes of 2018 for me?

Where did I experience God’s provision, protection, invitation…

Who has my community been in 2018?

What faces come to my mind when I think of my people in 2018 and have I, or how have I, let them know the importance of their presence in my life?

Where have I grown, why have I grown, where have I resisted growth?

Last year at the end of the year I had no idea what this year would hold for me. In March my Dad had a seizure, and 7 weeks later we held his hands as we said goodbye. I want to remember the good, cherish the moments, marvel at the journey and acknowledge the honest struggle, sadness, and pain.

I believe one of the greatest things I learned this year is how my heart can truly hold deep sorrow and sadness while at the time holding deep gratitude for all that is good. If you are a person who has not yet discovered the depth and width and breadth of all your heart holds, I hope you will begin to explore the amazing capacity God has given us to deeply feel all that we experience.

Will you join me in the coming days to look back before we move into 2019?

Will you allow all that has shaped you in 2018 to direct you in 2019?

a year ago






My Social Book

I spent some time tonight looking through one of my collections. I have a stack of 9 MyIMG_4468 Social Books. Each one is a print out of my FB from every year. When my brother died in December of 2012, I became aware of how many people wrote such comforting thoughts on my Facebook. It was no longer about the cards you could read in the months ahead. I did not want to lose the words of so many that I IMG_7783.JPGknew and many I did not know but who knew Len.

Over the years I have taken time to look back and be comforted, to feel the embrace, to smile and weep and remember. The words of friends bring comfort and love, and it is all in My Social Book.

And there is always the delight of the birthday messages, the events in our family that are more precious when some are no longer with us. I have used Facebook as a space to remind my family and me of all we enjoy, when we laugh, when we cry, and what is important to us. So many many people interact with my FB in comments or thoughts, and I am able to enjoy and envision the faces of so many.

My Social Book is a collection of such goodness. It is a photo album, a journal, a gathering of goofy sayings that make me smile and so much fun to look at with the kids to remember what was important to them at different seasons of their life.

I just ordered this year, and I find myself waiting with anticipation, to sit by the fire and read the memories of the day of and the days after my Dad died. To read the words of those who knew him and shared stories of him. To feel the embrace of so many who offered comfort and kindness. When I think back, those days seem a bit like a blur of activity. I am a person who places deep value in community, and I cherish when others speak to my heart. I am grateful for the gift of Facebook and My Social Book and the ways that I can record the happenings of the Borgdorff Bunch.

Thank you to all who interact with my world via this blog or FB. (I also do print my blogs every year) Reviewing, cherishing and sharing all that is contained on these pages allows me some very sweet spaces of reflection.

Now, I will let you know that when ordering you can pick and choose what you print. I don’t publish every day that I worked out, and I don’t publish all the things that other people post. I do print my posts, and your comments, the photos, and your comments on the images. I choose a book that reflects real life and the journey of faith and hope that we walk each and every day, although undoubtedly as noticed when perusing, some days more fully than others!

I am thankful for Facebook and Word Press and the ways that technology has developed to bring about true treasures of documenting our family story in this small way. Thank you, friends and family, for your kind words, love, comfort and compassion offered via Facebook 6 years ago when Len died and more recently in the passing of my dear Dad. Those are two significant events that I cherish in My Social Book, but many other exchanges bring deep gratitude for your friendships as well. And as an added perk, I will always have the fun stories of everything my dear dog Dutch has eaten from my kitchen.


Christmas Continued…

For those of you who know me, or have begun reading, you know that this year my Christmas season is marked by navigating a grief journey of a new kind. For the last number of weeks, I kind of just wanted Christmas to be over.

I will be honest, I am glad that today is over. It wasn’t awful. There were many spaces where people were very kind and invited us in. I enjoyed Church with my Mom, Aunt, Sister and brother in law and two nephews and my niece. We were invited in for a Christmas brunch and enjoyed the kindness of dear friends. We went to a movie, had lasagna soup and did some puzzling. There is really nothing to say about it being a bad day, but it was a hard day. A day I am glad is over this year.

But as I am about to call it a day, I smiled because I read something that led me to title this blog Christmas continued. When I read this tonight, I can say, I am ready to wake up tomorrow and continue with Christmas.

Will you join me in living out Christmas all year long?



There is something so comforting to the traditions that have always been. We have enjoyed certain traditions over many years at Christmas and our traditions have in some way set our rhythm, routine and expectations for when we all gather.

I have learned that in the midst of grief, traditions don’t feel as simple as years past. There is a sense of comfort but there is also almost a greater sense of disruption. This year, we opted to hang onto some and let some go.

Change is hard and as we are coming off from our family Christmas weekend, I am so grateful for a family bunch that is willing to try new things.

We did not have Christmas at Papa and Beppe’s house this year. (yes, we agreed we can all still call it Papa and Beppe’s house though). We packed up a whole bunch of stuff and went to a cottage all together on Lake Michigan from Friday midday to Sunday midday.

All the kids who enjoy being together and bring us such kindness and joy!

We didn’t have a tree there and we gave up our long-time tradition of clues when gift giving. We changed some things up and we kept some things the same. None of the changes removed the reality that my Dad wasn’t there and yet some of the changes eased the depth of our grief. It was good to be able to identify what we would hang onto and what we would let go of.

We did keep our tradition of presenting your gift with a poem. I will share more of this over time, but tonight I leave you with the amazing poem written and presented with my beautiful gift.

Trixie Lynn, my sister dear,
what can I say, it’s been a hard year

We’ve suffered some pain we didn’t expect
We’ve lost some things we would’ve rather kept.

One version of the story we’re living
could be full of self-pity and void of thanksgiving.

After all, we are sad and our grief is so new
And the days without tender spots are rare and are few

But that’s not the only true version to tell
For as we look back there are sweet spots as well.

As one of your nephews taught us (not one of the Boses)
There are precious things we can gain from our losses.

As we’ve learned before from our acquaintance with grief
Some bonds grow stronger and bring sweet relief

As we stood on the patio that warm May morn
And toasted to Dad, led by Mom’s second born

Toast to Papa
Following the Committal Service, we did a toast to a Husband, Father, Papa, Brother, and Friend who will be deeply missed!

We felt such a mixture of sadness and grace
For the goodness that continues to grow in hard space

For the gift of the Dad, we miss because he was good
And knowing that many would choose one like him if they could.

So this Christmas let’s choose joy for all that is right and true
And on my list of gratitude, way up on top, my sweet sister is you.
Written by Suzi Bos (December 2018)

And the gift was a beautiful wall hanging of the toast that my brother Nick offered on the patio after a very meaningful committal service.

The toast Nick offered on the day we laid my Dad to rest.



Sunday night six years ago…

Dear Len,

How I remember the afternoon, you were driving the many hours from finishing your job out of state and heading home for Christmas. We talked four times that Sunday afternoon. We talked about your gift for Dan and how you were writing your poem. You said you had the best poem ever and you would just need to remember it long enough to get home and write it down.

And then I went to work out at the Kroc, and we said we would talk soon and that was the last time we spoke. Six years ago tonight we got the call that shattered our hearts and drew us all closer.

RK Big familyWe have missed your presence in significant ways and in small ways. From your sense of adventure on vacations to your curiosity and compassion when you would call and say “what’s up?” I love to remember how you loved Marcia and the kids. The stories that you would retell that got funnier every time you told them and the classic family meeting minutes when you would share your quest for a healthy happy family where everyone’s voice was heard, and complaints were given proper credence, but love and compliments always prevailed. Life wasn’t perfect, there were lots of struggles and hardships as well, and there are days I am grateful you have been released from the battles that made life hard.

The kids are doing amazing, and each of them has weathered their grief in honest and courageous ways. Somehow I am sure you know that Papa died as he is no longer with us and now with you in that space of eternity that we long for and yet are so not able to truly comprehend.

In the space of days when Papa was sick and died, Your crew reflected with such wise and compassionate words as to how grief has grown them, and they are stronger and kinder and gentler adults because of it. They miss you so much, and we speak of you often.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_1b64eWe love seeing Olivia more, and her heart burns for social justice and racial reconciliation. She has a searching, yearning, never satisfied soul just like her Dad. She is an athlete, a leader, a hard worker, articulate, funny, fierce and tender and so much more. She is filled with such beauty and grace, and we can see that she is a beautiful mix of you and Marcia. She is almost 22 and growing into an adult who will leave her mark on the lives of those she interacts with. She is clear and asks for what she needs. She is brave and she is fun. You would love her sense of adventure, her longing to travel the world and her commitment to stay home and get done what needs to be done. It is exciting to consider all her future might hold.

Noah also is a gentleman you would be so proud of. He is perceptive and well mannered and looks out for Beppe in ways that would bring tears to your eyes. Noah is intuitive to when people need a hug or a smile and his hugs have the strength that you are hugging us through him. He is doing well in school and is a leader both on and off the Lacrosse Field.

Recently I saw a Facebook post on Lauren’s picture where you said, “I choose her,” and they were just friends and now they have been dating for 5 years. Lauren joined us for Christmas this year, and I am pretty sure you would have had such fun with their growing relationship.

noahThere are so many moments where we say to him how proud we are and oh, your father would just smile so at this or that. He has the same loud Len voice that you were blessed with, and his sense of humor could only be matched by you! He is unique and bold and so one of a kind. He will make an excellent teacher and is responsible with his planning and finances. I like to think you have a sense for all he is up to and marvel at how much a boy can be like his father. sonta

Sonta is such a beautiful young woman. We are finally planning to return to Haiti to meet their birth mom. How I hope it will happen this year. We all remember that you were going to take her when she turned 16. We began to consider fulfilling your promise then but now I think we are finally ready. She is finding her way in the academic and work world, and I know you would understand that math is not her favorite. There are times I think she is just like her father, only being reminded by her beautiful Haitian skin that she did not come directly from your DNA. She is free-spirited, feisty, kind, beautiful and creative. She continues to find her way and her bond with her sibs is strong, and you would love the ways they are family together.

Jean Marc is playing high school basketball, and I shudder to consider what you would ben%uMUEJtTS6pIGEipxA_thumb_1b604 like at each and every game. I can almost hear you cheering him on! He is strong and handsome and has a smile that always melts my heart. He met the newest baby boy this weekend in our bunch, and he was so gentle and such a natural. We love to watch the video clip of you and he, and it always makes us laugh and also cry a few tears. Jean Marc would rather play basketball than most anything else, and because of that he keeps his grades up and gives the game his all. We will go and watch and miss you and Dad at the games, but you can be sure we will cheer him on every chance we get.

Len, it is almost 6 years to the hour that we got the call that you were gone. It is quiet in my house as I remember. I have tears, and I am aware of the mystery of time. The complexity of grief and life and love and loss. I have learned that the kindest way to live is to live in the moment, carrying whatever my heart holds and being gentle with it.

lenfamTonight as I listen to John Denver and the Muppets and look at pictures and reflect back but also look forward, I am aware again how you live on in the lives of your children. Marcia remains in our lives, and we share many hugs, laughter, and tears. God is good to us in our heartbreak, our heartache, our mundane and ordinary and in our joy. So much has transpired in six years and yet your in my heart always.

I miss you brother, I love you, and I will see you again,

Until that time,


It’s time…

Do you ever have something that you know you are resisting? When the time to begin again feels difficult but the thought doesn’t leave you? That is how the idea of writing again has been. People have mentioned they miss my blogs and extended kind invitations to write again. I have often begun or ended the day with the thought of writing, I have even started and started again, but for some reason, I have not yet hit publish.

But now, I am sitting with an open afternoon, surrounded by my family, with noise that fills the space of a beautiful, large, log cabin cottage where we are celebrating Christmas. I wonder what to do with the time that is before me and I know that it is time.

Hard to imagine it was 7 months yesterday since my Dad left us. Hard to believe it is six years tomorrow since my brother Len left us.

I believe that one of the greatest lessons I have learned in the journey of love and loss is the choices that are before me each and every day.

Choices of how I will be true to the feelings of my heart.

Choices of how I will be true to the legacy of Len or my Dad.

Choices of how I will live out the calling to be uniquely me?

I have many moments where my grief is tender and my ache feels deep. I am aware that when the days and months come and go, 7 months doesn’t feel like that long. Some things are still so fresh and there are always the firsts. A few people have mentioned to me lately how year two is harder than year one. I am reminded then that even after 6 years, we have spaces where Len is deeply missed. Grief and time are a funny thing. Those who were so present with us in so many ways are now gone and missed in so many places.

And yet, yesterday, I thought wow, 7 months. A whole summer and fall without my Dad. I grill the meat more often, I know how to use his gas-powered blower and I now know the mixture of the gas oil ratio for his large snow blower. I miss his pipe, his input, his voice and most of all his quiet but large presence in my/our world. Tonight as we open gifts I will miss his poetry and his laughter.

Len and my Dad were a big part of us, but they were not our only gifts of goodness. We had 28 people gathered last night and we held hands to pray for dinner, we were reminded of all we have. The goodness in the people who are present and the gifts that are innumerable. We are gathered at a beautiful place together on Lake Michigan to share in the abundance of love and relationships under this log cabin roof. We remembered Len by singing the Navy hymn and eating homemade burgers (but Nick didn’t burn them. :-), and watching a video of our favorite photos. We remembered my Dad by watching a video and sharing gifts that speak to his life and goodness. We have laughed and we have cried, we have joy and we have sorrow, we have spaces that hold an abundance of noise and moments of silence that are both reflective and precious.

And so this holiday season we have choices. Choices about how we will grieve. We have choices about who we will grieve with and how we will speak of our grief. We have choices about what our Christmas season will look like, not denying what is real, but embracing all that our hearts hold. The holiday and grief is complicated but not impossible. There is goodness and there is sorrow and both are equally real. And both invite me to good spaces. And both are true not only in our lives but in so many others. So, I am aware that it is time to write again. It is time to share all my heart holds in creative ways through words. It is time to put in black and white that even on the hard days, hope anchors my soul. For that I am grateful! And now to honor my Dad with closing words He would use to end his written communications.

Glory be to God!