Mom calls it your “senior picture.”  She said, I’m pretty sure Josh had one taken like it when he graduated from high school.”  Funny!

I took the shot at Ben’s soccer jamboree in Rochester.  We were in between games and you were playing around the tree.

I said “Jack, let Papa take your picture.”

Then you proceeded to cozy-up to the tree, leaning against it and smiling right at the camera.

You are one handsome, funny boy!

The highlight of the jamboree for you – by the way – was a John Deere utility vehicle used to haul trash cans. It kept going by and you couldn’t take your eyes off it!   You love cars and trucks so much!

Today was a special day for a bunch of reasons:

• It brought welcome relief.  My Mom died September 7 and we buried her September 12 (on Emma’s birthday).   So having a FUN, HAPPY thing to do 11days later was fantastic news. I couldn’t wait.
• It brought us together, all 13 of us, which is always so much fun.  We had crackers and dip, fruit and drinks and a grand old time.
• It was the first time we’ve ever taken a boat ride from our dock after 11 years of living at 44 Waterloo Circle. Grammy and I don’t own a boat, so we were excited about actually leaving our house from the water.
•  It gave us a cool new view.  We’ve been looking at the beautiful Piscataqua River from one perspective, but today we went East, up the river, and had a chance to see the beautiful inland waterways of Dover and Durham waterfront.  We went under three bridges over Little Bay, the one they’re using now, the new bridge they’re building and the rusty old one.   You loved walking (sometimes running) up and down and around the boat and crawling along the seating area.  Everyone visited the inside area where they sold candy which I, of course, bought for you guys!
• It gave us an awesome boat.  “The Heritage” is a famous and frequent sight in Portsmouth Harbor.  It brings tourists up and down the river all summer long, into the Fall.  People also use it to visit the Isles of Shoals.  It’s a beautiful wooden boat, a “Deltaville Deadrise” built in 1963.  It was used in Chesapeake Bay (around Washington, D.C.) for oystering and crabbing.
• It gave you souvenirs. Grammy and I bought you comfy sweatshirts and t-shirts that say “Portsmouth Harbor Cruises.” You love ’em.
•  It gave me an awesome ‘total family’ photo which will become my 2012 Christmas card! (see first photo below).
• It gave us great memories.  All of us will remember it – except for Madigan and Jack. Maybe we’ll do it again!

Losing someone you love deeply is one of the hardest things we face as human beings.  One minute they’re physically alive and in our world; the next, they’ve taken their last breath and moved on to a new place in the universe.

When it’s happening, you struggle to deal with it, the experience is emotional, confusing, disturbing, intense – and yes, very sad.

And so it goes with my Mom (your paternal great grandmother) who died Sept. 7 at the age of 89.  She was buried Sept. 12 in Mt. Calvary Cemetery in Somersworth, NH, the city my (childhood) family lived in most of our lives.  She was 89 years old.

Despite living a long life, it’s never easy to say goodbye forever. I was there when she died with my sister and a few relatives and friends. We held hands together and stood around her bed at Bellamy Fields Assisted Living in Dover. She died peacefully on a bright, unusually warm September day.

The past week were hard to get through.  Fortunately the lights of my life – Grammy, your Mom’s and Dad’s and my grandchildren -were close by. You made tough days better, just by being who you are. While you couldn’t understand the concept of dying, you instinctively sensed sadness, things being different and people you love hurting inside.

Rita Blais Beaupre – my Mom – was born in 1923, went to school in Berlin, NH and married my Dad  (Donald J. Beaupre) – your great grandfather – in January 1951. They became parents in 1952 when my sister Francine was born; I came along a year later in 1953.

Mom was an outgoing person who loved life.  When she was younger, she’d drive to Hampton Beach in the summer (over 100 miles away) with her friends to enjoy the largest beach in NH.  She went to New York City with her best friend when she was single, attending Broadway shows and concerts.  She saw Frank Sinatra in the 1940’s when he was at his peak – Sinatra is one of the most famous singers of all time

Mom helped run my Dad’s photography business, BEAU STUDIOS, when they were first married and later worked in the Human Resources department of the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard for most of her adult life (my Dad also worked at the Navy Yard).  She had many friends, was a great Mom, and will be missed forever.  My blog about being 10 years old has a lot of insight about what my young life was like.

You’re  so young!  Ben, while you’re the oldest of the “Samurai Seven,” you’re the oldest at 9 years old.  Emma 7; Camden almost 7; Ainsley 5; Jack, almost 2 and Madigan, a mere one year old.  While words weren’t there, kindness was ever present.  You hugged me, were gentle, loving and created special drawings I’ll keep forever (see below).

You made a very hard time, much, much better. Thank you.  I love you to Pluto and back and am so incredibly lucky you’re in my life.

We’ve had so much fun at the beach this summer.

You are now a veteran of sand & surf, loving the entire scene. From the long walk at low tide to the shore to the lingering splash and soak time of Papa’s custom-built beach pools.

Here are some favorite photos from 2012!!

We did something new at the beach this week that you loved – we created a car out of sand.

Your Dad and I grabbed the shovels and made a giant mound of sand, then gradually shaped it into something that looked like a car – sort of a VW Beetle Bug meets bumper car meets convertible.  Only a lot less durable.

Ben and Emma joined in, helping us create the ocean-side work of art. We added paddle ball paddles for tires, a frisbee for the steering wheel, two tennis balls for the headlights and pails for the exhaust pipes.

Ben and Emma took turns sitting in the “seat.”  You spotted them and made a bee-line for our sand-mobile.  Wanting to get in – immediately –  your big paw wiped out a good part of the driver’s “door” – I quickly rebuilt it (that’s the beauty of a car made out of sand).

After I put you in the driver’s seat, you grabbed hold of the frisbee steering wheel and a big grin crossed your face – you loved it!  This wasn’t a surprise because CAH-ARR’s (as you pronounce “cars”) are one of your very favorite things.

It wasn’t long before our sand mobile turned into a wreck, but that’s the way the beach sand crumbles.  Fun!!

Jack Attack!

Grammy and I were eating at Wells Steak House on Sunday, June 24 when I noticed your Dad had called me on my phone.  He never calls, so that got my attention.  Grammy checked her phone and noticed she had a message too. We were starting to get worried… something was up.

I went outside and called him back.  Voice mail.  I climbed the stairs, rejoining Grammy.and A few minutes later your Dad called saying “Where are you?”

This caught me by surprise, I wasn’t sure why he was asking this, but I knew it wasn’t good news. “We’re in Wells, at the Steak House,” I replied. “what’s wrong?”

Your Dad went on to say that you had fallen and hit your head hard.  And then the piece that got us very worried,

“They took Jack to the hospital by ambulance.”

I instantly said, “Is he okay?”  Your Dad explained that you would be okay but you had been running around the living room, chased innocently by Emma, and you had tripped and hit your head on the corner of the brick fireplace.  You lost a lot of blood due to it being a head wound, notorious for messy reactions.

We left immediately in separate cars – Grammy got to your house first, then I arrived.  I’d like to tell you we went the speed limit, but that would be stretching the truth.

After we got there, Grammy Boyle left and Grammy Beaupre took over so your Dad could join your Mom at the hospital.

Ben, Emma and Molly were very upset… they were nervous, and weren’t saying much. I put Molly to bed, but I could tell seeing you all bloody was on her mind.  Your Mom had applied pressure to the wound, but it was hard to control the blood.  She kept the pressure on as the ambulance drove away to Wentworth-Douglass Hospital a few miles away.

A few hours later, you returned home with a big bandage.  Ever the trooper and tough guy, you managed a grin for us.  Amazing.

The Madonna 1980 Tour t-shirt  I had bought for your Mom decades ago when we took her to that concert was now a bloody mess.  She had on her comfy PJ’s when the accident happened and the Madonna was now covered with your blood.  It soon found a new home in the wastebasket, a pre-adolescent memory tainted forever by a newer, even more memorable experience, that this time, was not at all fun.

It wasn’t long ago you found your way to the bottom of the stairs from the same room.Y Enough’s enough, Master Jack.  You’ve had enough adventures for one year.

Here’s a photo of what you looked like the next day as you awaited your lunch. The event that had taken years off your parents’ lives (and gave Grammy and me more gray hairs) was long forgotten.

Happy Jack was back!

According to your Mom, your first word was

Dadda

Soon followed by

Momma

 

and one of your early favorites,

GoGo!

 

But those were the early days of vocabulary & language development.  You’ve come a lot further.  Months ago, I taught you

Tick Tock

 

by bringing you over to the kitchen clock every Sunday and saying those words.

truck

 

continues to be a huge favorite, as does

ca-ar

 

You can say

Ben, Emma, No, Mine, Please, tank-u

 

and lately, a cutie one word expression has joined your repertoire,

hereyugo!