Finding My Passion

           Inspired by an invigorating and stimulating conversation with an amazing friend of mine, I was contemplating yet again what it means to find my personal passion.  Pondering once more about how dreams and passions mold our lives and our children’s future.  How do we guide our children to follow their hearts?  How do we explain that doing the right thing is often the hardest choice?  Going after your passion usually involves taking a risk.  I remember during one difficult time in our lives a wise man once said something so simple yet so true.  “If it was easy, everyone would do it.”  This is what resonates in my mind when facing life decisions such as having kids, changing jobs, moving, choosing your life’s work, caring for an aging parent, or helping a struggling child.

As a parent it is often difficult to trust the choices our young people make. Drawing from my own childhood, I remember wanting to do, learn, and experience everything.  Even though my mindset was ‘sky’s the limit’, my early dreams were quite modest.  My greatest ambition was to live at the lake and somehow make gas and food money. That was all.  I longed for simple living & adored connecting with Mother Earth.

Then there was the dream of becoming an astronaut.  Years later I realized it was more about the hours dad and I spent staring into the clear summer nights than wanting to actually experience outer space.  It was about the potential of the unknown, but even more so, it was about connecting with my Dad.

Another time, initially inspired by my own bout as a patient at the age of 14, I felt destined to be a nurse.  I had it all planned how I would be through nursing school and be working by 19 or maybe 21 if I got an RN.  It was a powerful pull.  I wanted so much to care for others, to connect in such a meaningful way.

By 9^th grade, I also wanted to be a writer.  But, after announcing this at dinner one night, my parents’ honest reply was ‘but how will you make any money?’ Unfortunately, I quickly took that dream off the table as a viable option for making a living.  I know now how writing connects me to anyone who reads my words in a moving, intimate, and immediate way.

And then, there was my absolute love affair with basketball.  My husband has often voiced, “You should’ve been a coach, Sher.”  Hindsight is 20/20, of course.  Coaxing people to be better than they were yesterday and molding individual skill sets into a unified team able to read one another with a subtle glance was very, very attractive.

As an adult I discovered photography, another love of mine. Capturing a moment in time touched the lives of each client.  Shooting my own children truly weaves into the fabric of our lives.  Photographs connect us within the family over long distances, over a lifetime.  But more than that, our great, great, great grandchildren will know, at least visually, their ancestors.

The reality, however, is that having so many interests, so many directions as a young adult made it extremely difficult to pull focus on a major in college and subsequently a satisfying career. As I was finishing high school with high grades, basketball, and every extra circular activity our small town school had to offer, I had no idea what major to pursue.  Making that decision via finding my passion wasn’t even on the radar.  All I knew for sure was I loved basketball, music, writing, and people, and that I was going to college.  Sophomore year rolled around and still I was unsure but had worked my butt off playing college basketball, a walk on, and loved it, lived for it.  The game was in my head.  I thought plays, strategies, camaraderie, and teamwork.  So, naturally, I majored in engineering.

Now, as a parent, if I saw my daughter in early college putting that much heart and soul into something and then watched her major in engineering simply because she excelled in math and science,  I would be highly suspicious that her mind trumped her heart.  I know my parents just wanted me to get an education and worked so hard to make that happen but what kind of education is perhaps the bigger question. In hindsight, this all worked out.  As it turns out, there was also a man involved.  He was my passion and became my husband, father of our children.

As for the curriculum, I honestly cannot remember getting excited about a single math, engineering, or science class.  I just continued engineering because it sounded like the right thing to do. I new I could make decent money working in the real world but it did not come from the heart.  And, after a while it seemed like a waste of time and money to change to anything else. How sad is that? 

I share all of that as an example of being young and undecided.  Unfortunately, not everyone knows what he or she wants to do at an early age.  Fast forward a couple of decades into my own parenthood adventure.  I now expect myself as a parent to lead and nudge these young ones we are blessed and honored to raise in a direction that will help them find their true passion in life, help them find what they want out of life, help them find what really makes them tick and loose track of time.  That one passion that calls to them in such a way they feel incomplete if they ignore it.

I so envy those lucky souls who simply know what they are meant to do in this life.  My husband is one of those people.  I admire his conviction to follow his calling.  Doing so has lead to much success, knowledge, and personal satisfaction in the field of computer architecture.  Another of those lucky souls is an amazing friend of mine who summed it up when she said, “my Bill & my kids are my IT”. She new at a very early age that being a mom and caring for her family was exactly what she wanted to do in life.  Her confidence in pursuing her passion to have children, stay home and raise them has lead to much success, knowledge, and personal satisfaction as well.  Two different people following different passions.  Their lives are constantly dynamic, always educating, forever challenging.  The ride is invigorating: good work.  It’s what makes them tick.

Now, recognizing it in others and finding it for myself are two very different things. With that said, I am very proud and thrilled to have reached my personal conclusion. I may have lost my way here and there, for this reason or that, but down deep I am simply a people person.  One of the most satisfying things in life for me is nurturing bonds and building those connections between people. I feel more confident than ever that my passion is connecting.

As a mother, I choose to connect even though there are risks.  I choose to care, heal, and fill needs. I choose to spend time just ‘being’ with the ones I love.  I choose to share my thoughts, journal our history, and capture our memories in time. I choose to be part of a team, part of something bigger than the sum of the pieces.  I choose to connect.  I choose to mother.  I always have and always will. It’s what I love. It’s what I do.  I mother.

Nothing calls to me louder or with more power than mothering. It’s what’s closest to my heart. Seems kind of funny to be twelve years and five kiddos into parenting and only just see it so clearly. But, what I know for sure is this.  As I once again embrace this role I am so privileged to have, the rest of the world simply fades away.

It is my dream to help my children tune into their own hearts a little earlier in their lives than dear old mom so they can live their dream with confidence all along. As for my part in it? I am going to do my darndest to mother them throughout the journey and to keep in mind that the best things in life are usually the most challenging. At last, I found my passion or perhaps my passion found me. Besides, as my husband says, “if it was easy, everyone would do it.”

Mail Call

After attempting unsuccessfully for over a week, I was so proud to have finally accomplished the backlog of bills, mail, and basically all paper traffic into the house. Last time I was caught up was right before baby came. He is now four weeks old already. Finally, I thought, I was coming out of the fog of newborn sleep deprivation just enough to fire at least a few neurons upstairs. To say the least, I was feeling pretty accomplished to have my desk back under control. I only had a few items to mail since I do most of it online but one thing in particular was a rebate so that was going in the regular mail on Tuesday. On Thursday, I retrieve the incoming mail and was excited to get what I thought was a personal note from someone. What a treat! Then I realize the handwriting was a little too familiar. Why would the rebate be return to sender? Well, it wasn't. In my fog induced mentally challenged sleep deprived state, I had mailed the rebate to myself!

Birth Story: Joshua Tobias Williams

Birth Story - Joshua Tobias Williams

Well, we were scheduled for March 11th, 2010. During the few weeks prior Gerard had spent many days starting his new job with Apple in Cupertino, CA. We also bought two new cars, cleaned the garage (well Gerard did) because of threatened hail storm, got the boys overdue haircuts, checked my leg for blood clots, continued to be undecided on his name, etc. Well, you get the picture. Even the A/C went out the night before his birth but we were lucky to get a tech quick and had it working before 10pm. Anyway, my sister Sonya and my brother-in-law Kevin came over Wednesday night. We had an awesome dinner together, all eight of us, (9 if you count the a/c guy but he didn’t eat) and then they stayed over so they would be here for Thursday morning. I barely slept at all between getting up to pee and just nervous and anxious for the big day. Gerard and I took the kids to school. I couldn’t eat or drink after midnight and had my bags ready for the hospital so it was nice to take the kids to school rather than just sitting around waiting. Ben stayed home with Uncle Kevin. We got back home, gathered the hospital bag and loaded my big camera bag and pillow in the trunk of G’s new hotrod, gave Sonya some last minute instructions, the map, and cash for lunch. We headed out finally giving final kisses to Benny and drove over to St. David’s. On the drive we were talking and I wondered out loud ‘what are the odds we get that same wonderful nurse we had last time?’ We parked and made our way to L&D on the third floor. We walked in and I said ‘we are the 12 o’clock c-seciton for Sherri Williams’ and who was standing at the nurses station with our file? Nancy, our same nurse from last time, said “I have you right here” and she took us immediately and got us started with all the pre-op stuff. We did all the paper work, questions, baby monitoring, vitals, iv, checks, etc. Eventually the OR was ready for us. Dr. Doss checked in on us. I wanted to say ‘you hold my entire life in your hands’ but instead I just teased him and asked “you brought you’re A game right?”. We all laughed and he said ‘absolutely’. Nancy & I took that final walk, for my fourth visit to the same exact operating room. Gerard had his surgical outfit on by then and had to wait in the silver chair outside the doors until we were ready.
I get seated on the high, narrow table with some help from Nancy of course. I leaned toward her once again, find my happy place, and meditate to receive the spinal. Once that is accomplished they lay me down quickly because the spinal works by gravity so for it to spread best I had to lay down quickly. Then Nurse Nancy does some housekeeping, like cleaning the belly once again, shaving, cleaning, gets me a lovely catheter started, and even a patch to ground me, yes electrically, in case doc needed to cauterize something. At one point, Dr. Doss sticks his head in the OR and says ‘sounds like a barber shop in here’. Almost ready. While all the nurses are busy doing their chores, I am just focused on not hyperventilating. The anestesiologists is monitoring me closely and can tell I am battling anxiety. She is worried about pain but the spinal was doing it’s job. She offered Demerol and oxygen but as anxious and nervous as I was I didn’t want to miss a single moment. So I found the calmest mental place I could muster and took the oxygen. It helped a lot. It was really just anxiety. I was laying there on the table still able to move my arms and head only. I tuned into my remaining senses listening and looking at what I could. Gerard was sitting by my side, holding my hand, so sweet and attentive. The doctor was talking with the nurses, causual professional. Then every once in a while he would talk to me. “just takes a few minutes here, we are getting though layer by layer-doing ok?” He even joked asking “does my A game get adjusted for age?” The bantar and cutting went on for what seemed like forever but was probably 10 or 15 minutes at most I am guessing. Then the excitement hits. “We are to baby!” Gerard stood up to get a better look and the OR nurse is pushing hard with her hands on the outside to help doc deliver our baby through the incision. I swear that OR nurse was pushing with all her might, sounded like she was at the gym lifting weights, and Dr. Doss was pulling baby boy out at the same time. The got the head out first. Gerard got a picture. Then they delivered him the rest of the way and he lay between my legs still attatched by the umbilical cord while they looked him over, suctioned, and he was taking his first breathes. Gerard got a picture of this too. Everyone was like “that is a big baby!” and they start talking numbers and everyone in the room guessing his weight. The baby’s nurses took him over to the warmer, cleaned him up and checked him out, printed his feet. Lots of comments on his very big feet. They barely fit in the space for his footprints. It was pretty funny. They wrapped him up, let me see him up close for about 20 seconds. All those months and all those worries waiting on him and finally here he was 6 inches from my face, finally we were meeting him face to face.
Gerard got to carry him to the nursery escorted by the baby nurses. On the way dad got to introduce baby brother to the rest of the family. Sonya and Kevin had the other four kiddos waiting for baby and they got to see him and touch him even before he made it to the nursery. Gerard took him in and he got weighed and measured and further assessed. He was a wopping 10 lbs 8 oz and 21 ¾ inches long and got an apgar score of 8/9.
Meanwhile, I am still laying on the table as they continue to deliver the placenta and clean things up to close. The call came from nursery. Nurse Nancy announced his stats and the OR staff oooo-ed and awww-ed over such a big baby. I am laying there staring but I don’t remember seeing anything else but his little face up close and personal. I started calming even more and tears of happiness flowed. I hear the doc calling for sutures instead of staples and reporting ‘just a few more minutes to close and I am going to use sutures this time-you doing ok?’ my answer is yes once again and I simply waited contemplating our new baby boy. Finally the doc finished, said his contratulations and goodbyes and the nurses got busy unhooking me enough to transfer to a bed and head off to recovery.
In recovery, nurse Nancy was still with me. And, soon Gerard came to be with me. They brought Josh Toby to me and we nursed for the first time and we got to marvel at our little miracle. I got my special one time anti itch pill that helped with the super 24 hour morphine pain medicine induced itching and we basically waited. I managed to wiggle my toes after a bit and eat some ice chips and got our first family picture. Nurse Nancy took me, Gerard, and baby. Then, Gerard got me and baby and nurse Nancy. I am so thankful to have both of those pictures.
Pretty soon we were ready to move to my room so Gerard pushed baby in the nursery cart leading the way and the nurses pushing me right behind. Sonya and Kevin and the other four kiddos were just outside in the waiting area. It was so incredibly cool that they were right there as we were heading out of labor and delivery. We had to stop for everyone to get another look at baby and then walk on together. It was such a neat moment because escorting Josh Toby were basically 10 people!!! Me pushed by two nurses, Gerard, Sonya and Kevin, and his siblings, Abigail, Noah, Jonah, and Benny. We had our own little convoy down two long hospital hallways. It felt good to be surrounded by loved ones at such a joyous event and I hope that part of having a larger family is that they will always have each other to lean on and love.

Running Into Old Friends

Nearly finished with the elementary open house one night, my first grader wanted to see just more thing. So my husband took him back upstairs while I found a chair to rest this 8-month pregnant body and waited with the two other boys at the library downstairs. People were still coming and going in and out of the library, lots of familiar faces, some not so familiar. Then, a family walks by and I recognize the mom, well sort of. You know, that moment of impulse recognition and the second moment of ‘is that really her?”

So they walk on in and I see the entire family. My long lost friend turned around. I see her better and sure enough it was her! At this point, there was no way I could let her go without saying hello. I caught her eye and she lights up, surprised of course, “Sherri!” We were both kind of shocked to run into each other at all but especially at the open house because usually by mid year at school everyone looks familiar. Turns out they were just a few weeks new to the school so that explains not running into each other there before.

We caught up briefly, tried to make it quick, I got her email/phone number and said our good-byes. We had been pretty good friends for at least five yrs, gym friends basically, until schedules changed, kids got into school, or, for me, family continued to grow. They had moved around the city some as well so we just lost touch when the gym routine changed.

It was just such a pleasant surprise. Much like running into the third of our gym threesome from back then. Just a month ago I ran into this other friend. Grocery store run ins happen all the time, not a huge deal but still she had been on my mind for some time and I was glad to connect. The bigger coincidence was that I ran into this same friend two summers ago when we both just happened to converge in the same room, same exhibit, same museum, same city (DC, fifteen hundred miles away), on the same day during summer vacation! Talk about two squealing ladies. She had her two girls and I had my daughter and the girls all thought we were nuts, of course. It WAS a little nutty, unbelievable, but so good to catch up even if we live seven miles apart in our regular lives and had to travel thousands to run into each other. What are the odds?

I simply adore happenstance, the serendipity in life that brings us together. So many times in our lives we have reached a point when overwhelmed and on the verge of giving up. And, just then the solution presented itself, the money was found, the keys appeared, the right rental fell in our lap, or just the right person stepped back into our lives. I just thought how appropriate to re-connect with these two ladies, totally by accident after having them both on my mind a lot lately. And, I have to wander did I run into these ladies because I had been thinking of them or was I thinking of them because I was going to run into them soon? Hhhhmmmm….

A Moment with Music

I know I am an emotional creature, especially right now, but while acting as my daughter’s music stand for a bit of last minute practicing before her solo/ensemble competition, I was incredibly moved by her music. She looked so natural with the cello seated between her knees; the simple notes, the 7th grade solo, fully focused on the sheet music, attention to every detail, the way arm and bow effortlessly move as one. Many different string instruments warm up, playing different pieces at a variety of skill levels all at one. Nothing is together but sounds beautiful anyway. And, yet, for 90 seconds while I held her music I was moved to gentle, quite, unnoticed tears. Moved by the music, the pure beautiful cello tones, and her pure beautiful, heart behind them.

Counting Our Blessings

Starting something new is so often exciting and exhilarating, frightening and difficult, longed for and yet resisted.

“When one door of happiness closes, another one opens, but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one that has been opened for us.”-Helen Keller

And, so with a great many positive changes on my own horizon, I am so humbly reminded of the serious challenges some of my friends and family are facing in their lives. While I feel scared and frozen at times with the overwhelming prospect of not just a new baby in the next few weeks but also my husband’s job change and our family’s relocation just a few months after baby comes, I cringe at becoming acutely aware of the contrast between defining our life changes and life changes that define us.

Several people in my life are battling cancer. Different cancers, different stages, different treatments but all life changing. Sometimes just the ‘what if’ scenario, the recall for more testing becomes the catalyst for renewed awareness. A scare quickly reminds us to live each day as a gift. Even my own mother was drafted into this war several years ago. Fortunately, her treatment outcome has her going on year threes of remission. And, my dad who has just recently recovered from a minor surgery seems so lucky to be nearly 68 and to only have a hernia that was easily repaired. With all this in mind, we count our blessings.

I also know a family with faith so solid, so strong they could challenge top religious leaders in any part of the world. The husband, father of their two boys, has battled through so much: brain tumor, surgeries, full recoveries, recurrences, more surgeries, and nearly full recoveries. Now, the other shoe has dropped. As if one brain tumor in the family wasn’t enough, his wife now has her own to conquer. She is already recovering from the surgery to remove the tumor and faces a positive prognosis. This time the blessing is on the other side of the world but still near to our hearts.

We all have our own challenges and difficulties. They come in all shapes and sizes. Everything from what’s for dinner to uprooting the family and starting over somewhere else. What strikes me about these good, brave people I am fortunate to know, is how witnessing their strength injects me with a shot of humility and a large dose of perspective. The injustice makes no sense, and never will, but nonetheless reminds me to pull focus on all the positives in my life and to graciously appreciate our health and prosperity. More blessings.

In my little piece of the world, we all have our health, our fifth child is growing and healthy waiting on his due date, and another c-section is not that big a deal. My husband has earned and landed this great new job, a once in a lifetime opportunity, with people who are already good to us, willing to be more than flexible to a man with a growing family. I personally strive to live a better life, seek inner peace and personal happiness while raising kids who will follow their hearts in their own life over time. In less than 2 months we will welcome this baby boy and change our family forever, again. Soon after his birth we will wonder how we ever lived without him, how we ever ‘felt’ complete without him. Then, this summer we will leave this city we love, this city we have called home for over 12 years. We will leave our first home ever owned and this place where our family grew by one darling daughter and four precious boys. This summer we will start an entirely new chapter in our lives, a new adventure taking us to California, a new part of the country, a new home, new schools, new friends, new job. All good positive life changes, a great new adventure we are boldly choosing to embark on. Again, I count our blessings.


Trust. Live open. Leap and the net will appear. Follow the path true to your heart. These are words of encouragement that come to mind. I know for many of our friends with far bigger challenges than what is on our horizon, that means trusting your faith, trusting the medicine, trusting the doctors, trusting our bodies to do their best for us. In one word, trust. I am choosing ‘trust’. For me, I trust we are making the right choices. We will find good schools. The kids will adjust handsomely, far better and more quickly than me I am sure. My husband will not just thrive but soar at his new job. I, too, will adjust eventually, even make grown up friends, redefine our home anew, put down new roots, and keep my sister close to my heart. I trust that our home is uniquely ours no matter what the physical address. And, I trust that all these changes will make our family stronger and tighter, continue to solidify our relationships, and remind us all how real growth comes through change.

“The only journey is the journey within.”- Rainer Maria Rilke

All is good. I know it and I appreciate it. I am forever thankful for each and every day. And, once again, I am reminded to send prayers & positive thoughts to all our friends and family and, closer to home, to always count our blessings.