Promises

A couple of months ago my two daughters asked me how the baby is going to get out of my tummy. I explained both a vaginal and c-section delivery to them using terms and analogies that I thought were easiest for preschoolers to understand. I thought they would freak out about the baby coming out of mommy's "bottom" but they took that explanation in stride. They were much more concerned that a doctor could cut mommy's tummy and get the baby out. I'm not too fond of the c-section delivery either, so I told them that the baby would probably not come out that way.

Yesterday Jeff and the girls accompanied me on my day of doctors appointments and tests. We started the day with a ultrasound of our 38 week fetus to determine the baby's size. The ultrasound tech measured the baby's head at 41 weeks and the torso of the baby was too big to assign a gestational age to. This was not the news we hoped for.

After the ultrasound we went into the exam room for a meeting with my doctor. The girls sat down with paper and crayons while my doctor went over the risks of a vaginal delivery of a baby this size. It soon became very clear that the safest way to deliver this baby is by c-section. The girls seemed engrossed in their art projects, but I am sure they heard what was being said.

Last night when we were getting the kids ready for bed my 5-year old Belle said, "Mommy, I was thinking about something scary, but I don't want to tell Ariel because it might scare her too."

I told her that I thought that was a good idea and sent her to brush her teeth.

When it was time to put the girls in bed I could sense that something was bothering Belle. My insight had more to do with her atypical whining and crying than any mommy superhero powers that I may or may not possess. I asked Belle if she was worried about me. Her desire to be brave and strong melted as the tears poured down her cheeks.

She is afraid of the cut they will make in my belly.

She is afraid that I will be hurt.

She is afraid that I will not come home again.

I told her that the c-section is safer for me and the baby. I told her that they will give me medicine so I won't feel a thing. I told her that she can stay at the hospital with me for as long as she wants. I told her about all the nurses and doctors who will be taking care of me. I reminded her that Grammy is coming to stay with her. I asked her how long it took us to drive home from the hospital today. "Two minutes" she said. I tried to convince her that two minutes is not that far but still she cried and was afraid.

Jeff came over to her bed and did what he does best in these situations. He kissed her and gave her a zerbert. He made her laugh with his puppet hand. He distracted her while I crept out of the room.

This morning Belle awoke shortly after me. "I had bad dreams last night, Mommy. I don't remember most of them but I remember one."

"Tell me about the one you remember," I replied as I sat down so to look her in the eyes.

"My Mommy promised to never leave me but a bad monster came and took my Mommy away," she said without a trace of the fear and sadness that she displayed the night before. "But I know that you keep your promises and you will never leave me. Right Mommy?"

"Right honey"

I read recently that when kids have bad dreams it is a way for them to cope with their fears. I found it interesting that when Belle explained her dream she referred to me as "my Mommy". It was almost as if the person in her dream was not really me but just the dream version of me and when the dream version of her faced what Belle feared the most she realized how silly it was for her to be afraid of losing me. Because I promised I would never leave her and I always keep my promises.

How simple and wonderful it is to parent a preschooler who trusts you completely. I know one day she will realize that I am not worthy of that level of trust. One day she will see my faults more than my attributes. One day she will know that the promise to never leave is not mine to make. Until then I pray that my children will always have me and I will always have them.

The Pregnancy Test

In the spring I caught a little bug. Some would call it little, my husband considered it a "you are crazy, what are you thinking?" bug. I was struck with the desire to get pregnant. I wanted to experience the wonder of life growing in me one more time. I wanted one more child to throw our family of four out of balance. Jeff was not on board with this desire. I didn't blame him. He is the guy in the trenches. He commits his every day to the enormous task of raising and training our girls to be the people that we want them to be. He keeps the house clean and prepares our every meal. From my perspective, carrying a baby is the easy part. Caring for and adding a new person to our family is not a decision to be taken lightly.

I yielded my desire to have another child to Jeff's desire for sanity. I did this happily and with full trust that if a family of five was in God's plan for us, God would make it happen. So I patiently waited, content with the outcome whatever it may be.

In July, Jeff's said the words that my heart was eager to hear. He wanted a baby. He felt confident in his ability to manage all the chaos that a baby would bring, ready for the adventure.

So here we are three months later. Three pregnancy tests later. God has called me to be patient once again. Our first two babies were conceived within a month of the notion crossing our minds. This time it was not so easy, but we trusted - confident that God's timing is perfect.

In October we got the answer we wanted. Our baby is growing. Our family is growing. Our love and fears and hopes grow right along with it. God willing, in June we will welcome a new member to our family. God willing.

Creativity

Paint.
Hours of fun and frame worthy results.

Ariels Cubist approach
Belle is channeling Picasso

The girls get their talents from their father. For Mothers Day he built me a window box.

Perfection

This is a vast improvement from what this area looked like when we bought the house 4 years ago.

Overgrown

I am surrounded by artists. They brighten my world with their creativity, beauty, vibrancy and love.

Stories I Won't Tell

Like some people, blogging is a form of therapy for me. It is also a way to record my memories so they can survive a muddled brain that is constantly pushing out wonderful memories in favor of needless information.

I have found a new therapy. Because of high gas prices, I am saving $100 a month by riding my bike to work instead of driving. Biking is my new therapy. I spend over an hour a day on my bike. That is a long time to ponder life, my relationships and God. Sometimes I think of wonderful things to blog about, but those thoughts are gone by the time I sit down in front of a computer.

My objective in blogging has always been to share about the positive aspects of my family. I am going to break this rule in order to explain why this is so important to me.

I don’t have very many good memories of my childhood. I didn’t have a bad childhood, I just don’t remember the good times. There is a reason for this. My family found it amusing to talk about the mistakes we made as children. Remember the time you …

… told your brother to run away.
… got kicked off the school bus for __________.
… blah, blah, blah. You really screwed up that time.

These stories are usually followed by laughter, but it is the strained kind that hides the underlying pain and embarrassment. My childhood memories are made up of these moments, not because they are memorable, but because they are recounted until the memory of me in my younger years only consists of bad decisions, broken relationships and hard times.

I don’t want this for my children. I am committed to not writing about their mistakes and lapses in judgment. I will not talk about how sisters fight, because I don’t want them to remember the fights. I want them to remember the hugs.


So for now, I am silent. Life is good. We are happy and healthy. The peace in our home is a haven found in between moments of strife. It is difficult for children to learn how to interact with their peers in a kind and caring way. It is unfortunate that as children we hone our social skills through conflict with our siblings. It is a blessing when we reach adulthood and are able to put behind past hurt and have a loving relationship with our brothers and sisters.

Maybe I am trying too hard to facilitate a healthy relationship between my girls. Maybe, like everything else that is important in my life, I should give this important task to God through prayer. After all what power do I have over the future relationship of my daughters?

This is something I will ponder on my bike ride home.

Mommy Modified

This has been a month of anniversaries. I happily celebrated my 100th post and 11 years of marriage. My next anniversary is bitter sweet.

On March 5, 2007 I walked into my boss’s office and asked for a full time job and a raise. I did this knowing that it would solve our financial difficulty. I also knew that I would be turning over the full-time care of my children to my husband’s capable hands and my time with them would decrease dramatically. It was not an easy decision for Jeff and I to make, but left with no options we did what we needed to do.

For the last year I have spoke about being a SAHM because it wasn’t so long ago that I was one. Stories that start with, “Last year when I was home with the kids…” are a comforting to me. They remind me that it wasn’t so long ago when I was privileged enough to be at home with my kids. That comfort is slipping away.

Last year I grabbed my lunch and said goodbye to an empty house at 6:30 in the morning. I spent my day with adults earning a paycheck and returned to squeals of joy at 5:30. I continued my working routine losing a small piece of my mom identity each day. Soon I was no longer the authority on what my children preferred. Now I have to ask Jeff questions before I can give our babysitter instructions for our date night.

Have they had a bath today?

Did they take their vitamins?

What time should they go to bed?

The interaction I have with my kids has shortened from an indeterminately long day to 2 ½ hours. At dinner time I grill them with questions so I can feel connected to them.

What did you do today?

Who did you play with?

Did you have fun?

I am lucky. I enjoy my job. I like the people that I work with. I spend my days focused on a job I enjoy instead of a family I miss. I get three weeks of vacation each year. My kids are home with my husband. In so many ways I am lucky.

Why on the anniversary of full time employment I am focused on what I loss over the last year instead of what we’ve gained? I know that being a SAHM is unbelievably difficult and draining. I also know how rewarding it is. Going to work every day is easy compared to what my husband does. Sometimes my children greet me with smiles while they run away from the man who pours his heart out for them. Other times they barely notice that I am home.

I wish that I can change it all and live in the utopia of family togetherness. We all know that won’t happen, so I am resolved to be content with this situation; confident that God knows what is best for our family.

Amy Means Beloved

Twelve years ago she walked into my life and changed it forever. My brothers finance. The woman that he saw from across the room when God said, "She's the one." Two months later they were engaged and I was meeting her for the first time. My brother, Tod, brought her to the Tahoe timeshare where Jeff and I were staying. We got snowed in. It is a weekend that I will always remember.

My future sister-in-law, Amy, made such an impression on me. Before meeting me she spent several days with my family. My family was not too happy with me at the time. Jeff and I had been living together for a couple of months, and I knew she had been briefed on my black-sheep ways. What I remember about that weekend was the love and acceptance that she offered me. I finally had someone in my family that would love me for who I was, instead of who they wanted me to be.

Since that day, Amy has been central to my sanity, happiness and self-confidence. Before long she became my best friend and my sister. As sisters we have shared many experiences over the years. We have camped together in the wilderness of Utah, slept in an RV on the infield of California Speedway, skied together, and spent countless hours on the phone with one another.

Jeff and I flew to Colorado so we could be with Amy as she gave birth to my niece. It was the most beautiful event I have ever witnessed. Sixteen months later I made a 3 am phone call to her because I was in labor. She bought a plane ticket and packed her bags. Hours later she was flying from Denver to Sacramento with her one year old daughter. Thanks to 30 hours of labor, she was with me when Belle was born.

I thank God that he picked Amy to be my brother's wife. Sometimes I am selfish enough to think that God picked her to be my sister, and Tod is just along for the ride.

My beautiful sister,
Thank you for all you have meant to me. Thank you for being a tremendous friend, sister, aunt, wife and mom. I love you so much, my heart aches from missing you. One day I hope that God will allow us to live closer than the 500 miles that separate us now.
Happy Birthday.

Caldwell Park

The picture that I posted for Wordless Wednesday got a lot of attention. I want to thank my husband for editing the photo. He did a fabulous job. Jeff was also the man behind the camera. I appreciate that. Not only because he is truly gifted with a camera but because while he was snapping away I was playing with my children.


These photo's were taken on the first day of our Christmas Vacation in the middle of our 12 hour road trip to California. We stopped at Caldwell Park in Redding so the kids, dogs, Jeff and I could run and play. I have very fond memories of this park. This is the second time we have stopped here. I think it will be a place that our children remember because once or twice a year we will continue to stop here.

Do you have any places like this from your childhood. A place where you visited infrequently, but is filled with memories? A place that sticks in your mind and as an adult you seek it out so you can see if it is as spectacular as you remembered.

My childhood place is Dennis the Menace Park in Monterey, California. When I was a child my aunt lived in Salinas. When we visited her she would take us to this park. If you are ever in the area, you should visit. It is truly as wonderful as I remember.

Caldwell Park in Redding does not have a great playground like Dennis the Menace Park. Caldwell Park has open spaces with old trees. It is a place where the four of us bind together as a family with the singular objective of having fun. It is a place where we stick together and create our own adventure. Our experiences at this park define our family. We love each other and we enjoy our time together.

When I look at these pictures I realize that I am living the life I always wanted with the family I dreamed I would have.


*This last picture was taken on our July visit.

Hugs in Heaven

After writing my Friday post, “In Memory of Oma”, I called my Opa. Christmas is hard for him this year; this is his first Christmas in over 60 years without his wife. During our conversation the only time I heard happiness in his voice was as he talked about my Uncle coming home for Christmas.

For those of you who don’t know, because I have never bothered to explain this, I live in Washington State. My family and Jeff’s family, with the exception of some siblings, live in California – 650 miles away. Jeff and I lived in the Central Valley of California until three years ago. Our family is there, as are our friends.

After my conversation with Opa I really wanted to be with him on Christmas. While this is a wonderful thought, it isn’t feasible. Jeff and I have committed to live within our means. We withdraw a fixed amount of cash from each paycheck and make do on that amount. Because of this commitment we constantly drive cars that need gas; our refrigerator and pantry are empty every Saturday. (I am not exaggerating; I have turned away people collecting canned food for charity, because I don’t have any food to spare.) Our decision to live on a meager amount has drastically changed our lifestyle. Taking a 1300 mile round trip to California is not an option.

The thought of going home for Christmas stuck in my mind. The only thing that would make it possible is a Christmas bonus from work. A Christmas bonus would be a miracle. Not because I don’t deserve one, but because I have received two bonuses already this year. It would be asking a lot to expect another one.

On Sunday I told Jeff, “If I get a Christmas Bonus AND it is over “X” dollar amount, I want to go to California.”

Ever since the words pass my lips, I have prayed and I have asked other people to pray for a bonus. Yesterday my prayers were answered. I received a Christmas bonus and that bonus was two times more than I needed to justify a trip to California.

Have you ever bought someone a present that you know they are going to love? You watch them open it with anticipation. You wait for their face to register the surprise and then the thrill of receiving that gift. I have this vision of God looking down on me as I “opened” my gift. I can see him smiling and feel his love and happiness for me. In response, I want to give God the biggest hug humanly possible.

Flaunt It Friday: In Memory of Oma

The Mommy Kelly at Taken With a Grain of Salt has posed her Flaunt It Friday Challenge: In Memoriam.

This challenge comes at a good time. The holidays are a time to remember those who are no longer with us. The important people in our lives never leave us, even when they have passed away, They live in our memories. It’s important to Flaunt those memories, so that these loved ones are not forgotten.

Mid-December last year, my Sister-in-law called to tell me that my Oma’s health was failing. This was news I was not expecting. My Oma still lived at home with my Opa and had only suffered from minor health issues. Two weeks later, On December 26^th she passed away in her home surrounded by her family.

My Oma is a very important person in my life. The second post I ever wrote is about her, and her life. Rather than recount that story, I will link to it here.

I admire my Oma for her strength. I love her for her acceptance and kindheartedness. I remember going to her house as a child. We only lived a couple of miles from them. I have very fond memories of playing with my brothers and cousins on my Oma and Opa's ranch. There was so much to do. They had birds, fish, walnut trees and a creek. She would always have lime Kool-aid. To this day lime Kool-aid reminds me of those childhood adventures and of her.

What I love most about my Oma is the family she is responsible for. I love my aunts, uncles, and cousins beyond words. I treasure all the Christmas Eve's and Thanksgivings we spent together. I recognize that at the root of all my good childhood memories is a woman who after marrying my Opa, left her family and home in Holland so they could make a new life for themselves in the United States. Without her strength, determination, and love; I would not be here.

My Opa is not the same without her. They were married for 60 years. I cannot even fathom the pain he must be experiencing this last year without her. My Oma and Opa mean the world to me, and they meant the world to each other. I only want to say, "Hold on Opa. I know you are sad, but I am not ready for a world without you. I miss her too."

My Oma left behind a loving and close knit family. Many of us honor her in the naming of our children. Every generation of my Oma's family had a Nicolaas. My Uncle John's middle name is Nicolaas, my Dad's first name is Nicolaas, both of my brothers and several of my cousins have the middle name Nicolaas. My firstborn is named after my father. My second born is named after one of my Oma's sisters.

My Oma loved cross stitch and needlework. The pictures in this post are pieces she made. I have two more, not pictured here, that are hung in my children's rooms. I treasure these pieces. I look upon them daily and know that they were made by hands that I loved and that loved me.

Thank you Oma, I will not forget.

Christmas Poem

I am struggling with gift giving this Christmas. I want to go Christmas shopping but, I don't have any money to spend and I really shouldn't rack up any more debt.

The problem lies in my love language. When I read "The Five Love Languages of Children" by Gary Chapman and Ross Campbell, I was appalled that one of the love languages is gifts. My exact reaction was "I hope none of my children have this love language, how would I deal with that!" I read a little further to find that the gifts love language manifests itself in a child treasuring each gift and remembering who it is from. Then it hit me, "Oh my gosh, that's totally me!"

I remember the sweater my future father-in-law picked out for me the first Christmas I spent with Jeff's family. I remember my dad bought me CV joints when I was 19 years old and my car was on it's last legs, literally. I remember Jeff hawked his ski's one Christmas so he could buy me an engraved locket with both our baby pictures in it. I remember the smell of the Coach Diaper Bag that Jeff surprised me with when I was pregnant with Belle. I remember the huge stuffed dog that my Aunt Gayle gave to me for my birthday when I was in High School.

I also remember the gifts I gave. The first Christmas after my parents divorced, I got my dad a coffee maker from Starbucks. When my younger brother was in high school I pitch in with my parents so we could buy him a car stereo. I remember buying my nephew a stuffed lion puppet when he was a toddler and before he was my nephew. I will even admit that for my first Christmas with Jeff, I bought him a shirt that matched mine.

Admittedly, I don't always picked the best gifts, but I have always given something. This Christmas, I want to find something for everyone and pay for it on credit even though I know I don't have the resources to pay off the credit cards. The only resource that I have is a Disney gift card earned with reward points from my Disney Visa purchases.

Here is a short Christmas poem to my family:

My heart and pocket book are having a tug of war.
I hope you want something from the Disney Store.

My Dutch Heritage

My family history is very important to me. Most important is my Dutch heritage. I am fortunate to have this account of how my Oma and Opa met in Holland in 1939. This account (written by my mom), was read at my grandparents 60th wedding anniversary celebration in 2006.
Unfortunately, my Oma passed away on December 26, 2006. I miss her very much.
My Opa is still going strong. He is healthy and keeps himself busy on his ranch, but he is very lonely without my Oma.

THE STORY OF JACK AND HENNY KROON

ONCE UPON A TIME, A YOUNG LADY NAMED HENDRIKA OLIEMAN WAS WORKING AT THE TEN HOOPEN BAKERY IN DEN HAGUE, OWNED BY HER SISTER AND BROTHER-IN-LAW, CLAZIEN & JOOP TEN HOOPEN.

IN 1939, 22 YEAR OLD JACOBUS KROON CAME TO WORK IN THE BAKERY, TAKING THE PLACE OF HIS BROTHER PIET KROON. HENNY (AS HENDRIKA WAS KNOWN) WAS 21 YEAR OLD AT THE TIME. WHEN SHE HEARD THAT CO (AS JACOBUS WAS CALLED) WAS GOING ICE SKATING WITH SOME OF THE “BOYS”, SHE INVITED HERSELF ALONG AND BRAVELY JOINED IN AS THE ONLY GIRL ON THE OUTING! THUS BEGAN THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN HENNY & CO (OR JACK AS HE WOULD BE KNOWN IN AMERICA).

IN 1940, HISTORY WAS MADE WHEN GERMANY INVADED THE NETHERLANDS ON MAY 10^TH AND HENNY & CO ANNOUNCED THEIR ENGAGEMENT ON NOVEMBER 1^ST (HENNY’S 22^ND BIRTHDAY).

FOR TWO YEARS THE ENGAGED COUPLE WORKED TOGETHER IN THE TEN HOOPEN BAKERY UNTIL 1942 WHEN JACK QUIT THE BAKERY TO WORK AT A DAIRY IN WOUDSEDYK (2 ½ HOURS BY BICYCLE FROM DEN HAGUE). WITH JACK’S MOVE TO WOUDSEDYK, THE COUPLE SAW EACH OTHER ONLY EVERY TWO WEEKS, SOMETIMES TRAVELING BY TRAIN WHEN THEY COULD, BUT MORE OFTEN BY BICYCLE. ON ONE VISIT HENNY WOULD MAKE THE 2 ½ HOUR RIDE AND THE NEXT VISIT JACK WOULD TRAVEL TO HENNY’S. THIS ARRANGEMENT CONTINUED UNTIL 1943 WHEN JACK WENT TO WORK AT THE JOOP VISSER DAIRY IN TER AAR (JACK’S HOME TOWN). THAT SAME YEAR, HENNY MOVED TO VOORBURG TO LIVE WITH HER SISTER AND BROTHER-IN-LAW, GRE & COR DYKMAN AND HELP CARE FOR HER NEW NEPHEW, NICO DYKMAN.

AS WORLD WAR II CONTINUED, JACK & HENNY WAITED FOR THE DAY THEY COULD BE MARRIED AND CONTINUED THEIR LONG-DISTANCE COURTSHIP. IN 1944, HENNY MOVED BACK TO HER HOME PLACE IN WILSVEEN TO LIVE WITH HER BROTHER NICO OLIEMAN AND HIS FAMILY; AND IN 1945 JACK WENT TO WORK ON THE RODENBURG DAIRY IN HOGEDIJK. THE DISTANCE BETWEEN WILSVEEN AND HOGEDIJK MEANT THE COUPLE HAD TO RIDE BICYCLES FOR 3 HOURS TO SEE EACH OTHER. (BECAUSE THE WAR TRAINS WERE NO LONGER RUNNING.)

FINALLY IN MAY OF 1945 THE WAR ENDED AND JACK AND HENNY COULD START TO PLAN A WEDDING. ALMOST A YEAR LATER, AFTER A 6 YEAR ENGAGEMENT, THE WEDDING DAY ARRIVED!

ON APRIL 25, 1946 IN THE TOWN OF LEIDSCHENDAM HENDRIKA OLIEMAN AND JACOBUS KROON WERE MARRIED. A CIVIL CEREMONY TOOK PLACE FIRST AT THE LOCAL COURTHOUSE AND THEN THE BRIDAL COUPLE PROCEEDED TO THE NEDERLANDS HERVORMED CHURCH WHERE THEIR RELIGIOUS MARRIAGE CEREMONY WAS HELD AT 2:30 IN THE AFTERNOON. FOLLOWING THE CHURCH CEREMONY, THE NEWLYWEDS AND THEIR FAMILY & GUESTS TRAVELED TO VOORBURG IN A PROCESSION OF 13 HORSE-DRAWN BUGGIES DECORATED WITH FLOWERS. IN VOORBURG, THE WEDDING PARTY WENT TO AN AMUSEMENT PARK COMPLEX FOR COFFEE AND A WEDDING TOAST! FROM VOORBURG THE NEWLYWEDS AND THEIR GUESTS (STILL IN THE 13 HORSE-DRAWN BUGGIES ) TRAVELED TO THE BRIDE’S HOME IN WILSVEEN FOR THE WEDDING SUPPER. TO ACCOMMODATE ALL THE GUESTS THE BRIDE’S FAMILY HAD TRANSFORMED THE BARN INTO A DINING HALL, COMPLETE WITH A WOODEN FLOOR MADE ESPECIALLY FOR THE OCCASION. THE WEDDING SUPPER CONTINUED UNTIL 4:00 O’CLOCK THE NEXT MORNING WHEN THE MEN HAD TO LEAVE TO GO HOME AND MILK THE COWS.

MR. AND MRS JACOBUS KROON MADE THEIR FIRST HOME IN NIEUWKOOP ON A DIARY THEY LEASED FROM ARIE VAN DAM. IT WAS HERE THEIR FIRST SON, JACOBUS NICOLAAS (WHO WOULD BE KNOWN AS JOHN) WAS BORN ON FEBRUARY 11, 1947.

JACK AND HENNY HAD APPLIED TO EMIGRATE TO AMERICA AFTER THE WAR AND IN ANTICIPATION OF THEIR PAPERS FINALLY COMING THROUGH, THEY SOLD OUT THEIR LEASE ON THE NIEUWKOOP DAIRY IN APRIL 1948. WHILE THEY WAITED FOR THE WHEELS OF GOVERNMENT TO SLOWLY TURN, THEY WENT BACK TO WILSVEEN AND STAYED WITH NICO OLIEMAN AND FAMILY FOR THE NEXT SIX MONTHS. WHEN THEIR PAPERS STILL HAD NOT COME THROUGH, THEY MOVED TO YSSELSTEIN AND LIVED WITH HENNY’S SISTER & BROTHER IN LAW, WILLIE AND LUIT BLOM.

FINALLY ON SEPTEMBER 9, 1948, THE COUPLE’S TENACITY PAID OFF AND JACK OBTAINED THEIR PAPERS FOR AMERICA. WITH PERMISSION IN HAND HE PROCEEDED TO THE HOLLAND-AMERICAN LINES OFFICE TO BOOK PASSAGE ON THE FIRST AVAILABLE SHIP TO AMERICA. WITH THE HELP OF HIS “SOB STORY” ABOUT HIS YOUNG, HOMELESS FAMILY, HE WAS ABLE TO GET PASSAGE ON THE “EDAM” SAILING IN NINE DAYS!

ON SEPTEMBER 18, 1948, JACK, HENNY AND 7 MONTH OLD JOHNNY SAILED FROM ROTTERDAM FOR AMERICA. THE SHIP ARRIVED IN PHILADELPHIA ON FRIDAY, OCTOBER 1^ST. BECAUSE IT WAS THE WEEKEND AND NO DOCTORS WERE AVAILABLE TO GIVE THE NEWLY REQUIRED TB TESTS, THE FAMILY HAD TO SPEND THE WEEKEND AT ELLIS ISLAND. UNFORTUNATELY FOR THE YOUNG DUTCH FAMILY, THE MAIN ITEM ON THE MENU AT ELLIS ISLAND WAS SPANISH RICE! THIS MADE THEIR RELEASE ON MONDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 45^TH, ALL THE MORE ENJOYABLE.

UPON LEAVING ELLIS ISLAND, THEY BOARDED A TRAIN FOR CHICAGO WHERE THEY SWITCHED TRAINS FOR THEIR DESTINATION; LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA. ON OCTOBER 7, 1949 THEY ARRIVED IN L.A. WITH $5 CASH IN THEIR POCKET! THEY STAYED WITH HENNY’S SISTER AND BROTHER-IN-LAW, GRE & COR DYKMAN (WHO HAD OBVIOUSLY EMIGATED TO AMERICA BEFORE THEM!). AFTER THREE WEEKS, THEY MOVED TO THE MONTROSE DAIRY IN EL MONTE, CALIFORNIA, WHERE JACK WENT TO WORK FOR COR VAN DAM.

NINE MONTHS AFTER SAILING ACROSS THE ATLANTIC, JACK AND HENNY HAD THEIR SECOND SON, NICOLAAS (KNOWN AS NICK) BORN ON JUNE 15, 1949 IN ALHAMBRA, CALIFORNIA. (ALL OF HIS LIFE NICOLAAS SUFFERED FROM CHRONIC MOTION SICKNESS WHICH HAS BEEN ATTRIBUTED TO HIS CONCEPTION ON THE ROLLING SEA!)

THE NEXT YEAR, ON AUGUST 24, 1950, A THIRD SON WAS BORN, CORNELIS (KNOWN AS CORNY). HE ALSO ARRIVED AT THE HOSPITAL IN ALHAMBRA, CALIFORNIA.

BY 1952, JACK AND HENNY HAD SAVED ENOUGH MONEY TO BUY THEIR OWN DAIRY IN FARMINGTON, CALIFORNIA. SO IN SEPTEMBER OF THAT YEAR THEY LOADED THEIR POSSESSIONS, 5 ½ YEAR OLD JOHNNY, 3 YEAR OLD NICO AND 2 YEAR OLD CORNY IN THE FAMILY PICKUP AND MOVED NORTH TO THE HOME PLACE ON SONORA ROAD. TWO YEARS LATER, ON JULY 5, 1954 THEY HAD A LITTLE BABY GIRL, WINNIE, BORN AT THE HOSPITAL IN OAKDALE, CALIFORNIA.

AS JACK AND HENNY CELEBRATE 60 YEARS OF MARRIAGE, THEIR FAMILY HAS GROWN TO INCLUDE THREE DAUGHTERS-IN-LAW (GAYLE, SHERI-LEE AND KATHY), A SON-IN-LAW (STEVE), EIGHT GRANDCHILDREN (GARY AND WIFE SARA, JOEY AND WIFE JEANNINE, KEVIN, TOD AND WIFE AMY LYNN, AMY AND HUSBAND JEFF, KURT AND WIFE SALLY, LINDY AND DIRK), EIGHT GREAT-GRANDCHILDREN (LORI, JAKE, KELLY, JOSH, MEGAN, MAISIE KROON, AND MAREE AND NICOLETTE SEIBEL.

NOT BAD FOR A COUPLE OF CRAZY KIDS WHO MET IN A BAKERY, SURVIVED A WORLD WAR, EMIGRATED TO A NEW COUNTRY, TAUGHT THEMSELVES A NEW LANGUAGE AND HAVE NOT SLEPT APART FROM EACH OTHER MORE THAN A HANDFUL OF TIMES IN THE 21,900 DAYS THEY HAVE BEEN MARRIED.