The Things We Don’t Talk About

 In my desire to be a mother - my biggest dream - there was something I never put too much thought into. And if I did, I surely romanticized it. 

Kids grow up. 

It shouldn’t be shocking. I was a kid and I have (for the most part) grown up. I have watched other people’s children grow up. 

But in the fleeting moments I imagined MY babies grown up, it was visions of them and their spouses and children gathered for happy holidays and celebrations. And then they would leave and walk the 10 steps to their own homes that would be in sight of my own. 

What has taken me by surprise is the deep grief I feel as they leave this (admittedly imperfect) nest. Why am I surprised that the independence that grew in my own heart when I was a young adult now grows in theirs? 

I love my own parents immensely and would give anything to have another day with my dad. But I don’t feel the need to still live with them. Why do I feel so emotional about my children wanting to find their own place in the world?

When we had Haven, we experienced that seemingly-impossible dance of grief and joy. It was a loss that sometimes made it hurt to breathe and unthinkable to get out of bed and function. But, oh the joy we had in the time we had with him! Pure joy. And we experience both of those still. 

This stage of life involves a similar tightrope walk of happy and sad, loss and gain, pride and humility. It is possible to be 100% happy for our children’s accomplishments and big milestones while grieving the absence of their daily presence and, frankly, their NEED for us. 

Everyone is happy to share engagements, graduations, marriages, grandchildren, etc. Nobody talks about the feeling of sadness that comes along with all the good stuff. Nobody warned me that this time would be so hard. That I would cry more than I ever have in my life. That I would cling to every bit of time they carve out to be with us. 

Don’t misunderstand- I am so proud of our people. I am so excited to have a front-row seat to see who and what they become. But I can also mourn the time when I was a part of their show. 

I do have to include a couple disclaimers here. First, I know how blessed we are to have living children who we get to watch live their lives. I have dear ones who don’t have that privilege and it is certainly not lost on me. 

Also, I know God has a plan for my children. He loves them more than I do. I trust that even though my mind races thinking of ways to push them in the directions I want them to go, His plan for them is good. 

If you find yourself wondering why no one talks about the sense of sadness and loss that comes with this stage of parenting, know you’re not alone. I, for one, am happy to talk and pray and do my part to normalize acknowledging the hard parts. 

22

 Dear Haven, 

Beautiful boy. Loved son. How can it be that you would turn 22 this year? There are so many things I wonder about…who would your favorite teacher have been? Who would be your best friend? Where would you go to college? But I have learned not to dwell on those questions because your story was never meant to include those things. Your purpose was completely fulfilled in the 32 weeks we had you with us, this side of Heaven. We trust God’s Word when it tells us that HE is the one who numbers our days. 

What I don’t have to wonder about is that you had very dark hair, soft, chubby, smoochable cheeks, perfect fingers and toes, and sweet little lips. I don’t have to wonder where you are because I know you’re with Jesus - the safest, best, most joyful place you could be! (Say hi to Trina and Bobby for me.) 

I also don’t have to wonder if you’ll be remembered because your name has been recorded on every continent by family, friends, sweet students, and even kind strangers. 

I don’t wonder about your impact. It has been felt far beyond our little family. Our prayer has always been and will always be that your life and your story encourage others and bring glory to our Lord. 

So, happy birthday, our third-born blessing. We are one year closer to seeing you again. Until then, we will continue to keep your place in our family ever present. 

Today, we will read your birthday cards from your Great Aunt Diane, Lynda, and your Nini - as we have for the past 21 birthdays. We will go to Night to Shine and serve with you in mind, which is such a fitting way to celebrate your birth. 

Love, Mama

The Soergel Family Christmas Letter - 2025 Edition

 Merry Christmas, friends and family! Another year has gone by, and we’d love to share what’s been happening in our family throughout 2025. Spoiler alert: God has been so good to us, and our year was filled with His grace and mercy; learning to trust more in the hard and be more grateful for all the good!

Amelia Grace (25)~ I have to lead with the biggest news: our Mia is engaged! We adore our future son-in-law, Evan! We’re very excited for them and have already welcomed him into our family, but it will be cool to make it “official!” But that’s not the only great thing Amelia has had going on this year! She was a speaker at both the Ohio Environmental Health Association and the Ohio Association for Food Protection conferences. She has read over 40 books (that’s my girl!), started baking sourdough, and taught herself to crochet. She also hosted her brothers a few times, which she loves. (And they do, too!) She also made a move this summer, from Dublin to Worthington and she’s enjoying her new place. We’re so proud of her! Amelia, my mom, and I also took a long weekend trip to Niagara Falls in Canada this fall and it was a lot of fun. 

Owen Dempsey (23)~ Owen finished his 4th year at AU with flying colors! The last 6 months are his story to tell, but what I do want to express is that we are endlessly grateful that he is here with us and that he is well. It is only by our God’s great grace and mercy. This holiday season has only deepened our thankfulness for Owen and all his many talents and gifts. Speaking of which, he has been creating and playing amazing music, both on his own and with a band. Owen also is still playing for worship at our church. He loves to read and study things that are way over my head, but I love his unique take on life, Faith, and Huxtable sweaters he finds at the thrift store. 

Haven William (21st year in Heaven)~ Check out his travels on the back! We continue to be soooo thankful for every single person who thinks of him and takes the time to let us know he is remembered. There is no greater gift to parents of loss than to know their child is remembered!

Wilson Beck (20)~ Wils is living his best life these days! He’s a junior at BGSU and this summer, he and 3 of his good friends, moved into a really cool house off campus. Like, really cool. He doesn’t come home as much as he used to, due to the fact that his sweet girlfriend Makala also went away to school, but we still see him fairly frequently. He really enjoys his art classes, but also likes the classes for his Geography major. He has been really into reading comic books the last year or so and says he loves to read if the book has pictures. I’ll take it - it’s still reading! We’re looking forward to him being home for break because we miss him so.

Mark and Andi~ Mark turned 50 this year! To celebrate, he and I went to Nashville to see some bands that he loves. Of course, we took the back roads and also found some abandoned things to take pictures of! It was a really fun trip. We celebrated 27 years of marriage in July with a weekend in Little Italy/exploring Cleveland. Mark still enjoys his work at HDC and has enjoyed taking some senior pics this year, too. He had a couple photos on display at Ashland University for their alumni art show, and some of his photos have been featured on NBC4’s (Columbus) news and social media pages, which is very cool! I have had a big change in my responsibilities at school. I don’t teach Computer anymore, but I still love teaching Bible. I won’t list all the new things I’m doing, but some highlights are being the Yearbook advisor, taking care of the library, and coordinating our school Chapels. All the changes have given me many opportunities to lean on Jesus for His strength! Haha! I truly do enjoy most of the new things I’m doing, and I still think middle schoolers are just so fun.

None of the goodness of our year would have been possible without the love of Jesus that surrounded us in every venture. We also couldn’t have survived some of the deepest valleys this year brought. If you don’t know Him, any of us would love to tell you about His love for YOU!

With many prayers for a very Merry Christmas and a Blessed New Year and much love,

The Soergels 

(Psalm 107:28-30)

Haven’s 2025 Travels

• Disney World, Epcot, Florida
• Sumter, South Carolina
• Orlando, Florida
• Ada Bojana, Montenegro
• Naples, Florida
• Mt. Gilead, Ohio
• Barbados
• Condado, San Juan
• Honeymoon Island Beach, Florida
• Safety Harbor, Florida
• Te Amo Beach, Bonaire
• Bachelor’s Beach, Bonaire
• Smyrna Beach, Florida
• Jost Van Dyke, British Virgin Islands
• Eleuthra, Bahamas
• Fort Walton Beach, Florida
• Cinderella’s Castle, Disney World, Florida
• New York Public Library, New York City
• 9/11 Museum, New York City, NY
• Gulfport, Mississippi
• Princess Cays Island, Bahamas
• Nokomis Beach, Florida
• White Sands National Park, New Mexico
• Lakeview Park, Lorain, Ohio
• Punta Cana (x2!)
• Galapagos Islands
• Pathos, Cyprus
• A turtle nesting site, south coast of Cyprus
• Prestayn, Wales, UK
• Lakeside, Ohio
• Ocean City, Maryland
• Grand Cayman Starfish Point
• Fort Morgan, Alabama
• Lipoa St. Beach, Maui, Hawaii
• Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
• West Palm Beach, Florida
• Perdido Key Beach, Florida
• Abergele, Wales, UK
• Ormskirk, UK
• Nickel Plate Beach, Huron, Ohio
• Cedar Point Beach, Sandusky, Ohio
• Dry Tortugas National Park, Key West, Florida
• Loch Ness and Loch Lomond, Scottish Highlands
• Mexico
• Virginai Beach, Virginia
• Clayton Beach, Scarborough, UK
• Bamburgh Northumberland, UK
• Lindisfarne (Holy Island), UK
• Nags Head, North Carolina
• Blackenberg, Belgium
• Haugesand, Norway
• Lakeville, Minnesota
• Disney World, Florida
• Niagara Parks Botanical Garden, Niagara, Canada
• Ocean Cay Marine Reserve, Bahamas
• Marco Island, Florida

12 states, 16 countries, 4 continents, written 57 times! Thank you for taking Haven around the world!!

Christmases Long, Long Ago

 We all have memories to which we long to return. This time of year always makes me nostalgic for the people and places that filled the holidays when I was a kid. Christmas, in particular, sparks a sense of longing that only Burl Ives or Bing Crosby could capture. 

Christmas Eve is the day we would spend with extended family on both my mom’s and dad’s sides. They were always two very different experiences but both are so treasured. 

First, we would go to my Papaw and Aunt Sharon’s house. I have such distinct recall of walking in and all the hellos, hugs, and kisses. We would put our gifts under the tree and toss our coats in the closet. The food was phenomenal. My Aunt Sharon makes the best ham ever and I always looked forward to hers. We also had beans and cornbread that always tasted just right. There were always so many people! It was loud, chaotic, and everyone sat anywhere they could find a spot - couch, floor, steps, wherever. It wasn’t a small house, but it was full to bursting with lots of aunts, uncles, and cousins. 

My dad and uncles would always be sitting at the kitchen table with Pap, telling stories and laughing. I will never forget the sound of my Uncle Clinus’ laugh. Sadly, of all the men who would gather around that table, only a couple are left. I am so thankful for the memory of the voices of those beloved men. 

The kids would beg for present-opening time and, when allowed, we ripped into them with reckless abandon, wrapping paper piling up around us. The Slones love loudly and it was always great fun. 

All too soon, my mom, dad, and I would say our goodbyes and head out to my Gram and Gramps Sanders’ house. The route to get there was all back-country roads (my dad’s famous “shortcuts”), and I remember being small, believing in Santa, driving through the snowy dark with the moon shining on the snow and Christmas songs playing on the radio. It truly felt magical as I thought about how Santa would soon be flying through that same sky. 

Arriving at the Sanders party involved just as hearty greetings as the Slones, but everything else was very different. Not at all in a bad way. We would all put our coats on the bed in my grandma’s stylish bedroom that had rich brown walls and white furniture. The atmosphere at my grandparents’ home at Christmas time was so distinctly them. The dimmed lights in the kitchen, everyone dressed up, and there is a scent that their cozy Bellevue home had that I can vividly remember. I don’t know what it was, but it was always the same. (I should pause to clarify that it was a good scent, not a bad one!) 

Any time I hear “O Holy Night” or “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” sung by Dean Martin or Nat King Cole or anyone else from that era, I am transported back to my grandparents’ kitchen on a snowy Christmas Eve with those songs playing softly on the radio. 

I always thought they had the coolest basement. Their house was kind of a split level, so the basement wasn’t totally underground. There was a big dining room table, a buffet, and some seats at the far end. The buffet had three cubbies and my two cousins and I each had one with our own coloring books and set of crayons. (This was before our youngest two cousins came along.) We would hang out in the basement and color or play with the old toy cars in the crawl space. (This was also where the Faygo cream soda and root beer were kept!)

The toy cars were an adventure of their own. They were my dad and his siblings’ Matchbox-style cars and trucks. They were in a sturdy brown sack that we would dump on the floor. We took turns choosing our vehicles. I was always last because I was the youngest at the time. There were a few that we would fight over - the ones that had opening doors. While we played, we would talk about what we would get for Christmas and how we couldn’t wait to open presents. Because we ate with my mom’s family, we missed the big Sanders meal, but did get to enjoy ham sandwiches and cookies. When we were there for any big holiday meals, though, the grownups would sit at the “big” table and the cousins would sit at the classic “kid table” card table set up for the occasion. 

When it was time to open gifts, there was no rush of ripping and tearing. Aunt Diane would dole out our gifts and we would take turns opening them one at a time. Grownups on the couches and chairs and cousins on the floor. We always knew the last thing we would receive would be the long, white envelopes nestled among the branches of Gram’s meticulous tree. We each had one with our names written in her neat cursive. We always got a lot of money in those envelopes that had come from our Gram’s sister. 

Sometimes, the grownups would play games like cards or Password and I would typically fall asleep to the sound of our people laughing and talking. There was such comfort in drifting off to such familiar sounds. 

When it was time to go, we would say our sleepy goodbyes, giving each person a hug and a kiss. My dad would carry me, half-asleep, to the already-warmed-up car, and I would drift in and out until we got home. 

Oh to go back and have one more Christmas with my dad, Pap, Gram, and Gramps. Those special Christmases are frozen in time in my heart. I know I will never recapture the pure joy and security that I felt as a child, surrounded by so many people I loved and who loved me. But every year at Christmas-time, I let my heart wander back to those sweet memories and thank the Lord that I had such wonderful things to hold onto all these years. 

Languishing

 It’s the middle of the night. It’s 86 degrees in our stuffy, sweaty bedroom, and sleep isn’t coming. It’s too hot. 

As I am laying here, I am trying to remember psalms and songs to at least get my mind off of my admittedly first-world misery. 

Psalm 6:2 says, “Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing…” A song we sing at church has the line, “I am languishing, Lord please hear my plea.” 

The word languish means, “to grow weak; suffer from being forced to remain in an unpleasant place or situation.” 

I say all this because I am keenly aware of the similarities of physical languishing and spiritual languishing. Sometimes, you have to sit in it. Sometimes, the only thing that you can do is pray for relief while asking the Lord what He wants you to learn while you’re in that “unpleasant place or situation.”

Whether it’s physical or spiritual - or both - I can seek to bring glory to my Lord. Because, as much as I literally haaaate being hot and sweaty, God can use my discomfort. As much as I want to run and hide from the deep pain of blows I didn’t see coming, hurt I didn’t know was around the corner, confusion and despair that undo me, God can use it. And I trust He will  

I’m a wimp in so many ways. But my God knows and sees and that’s what really matters. 

My Darling Amelia Grace

 My darling Amelia Grace,

On your 25th birthday, there are some things I want you to know. 

You are, quite literally, a dream come true. 

For as long as I can remember, my deepest desire was always to be a mother. I had dozens of baby dolls that I doted on, carried around, and dressed up with baby clothes from garage sales. 

Yes, I wanted to be a teacher, but that was always a sidenote in my mind to my true calling - a mama. 

I have told you many times about your first night of life on the “outside,” how I stared at your sweet little face all night long. That’s not an exaggeration. I really did just hold you and look at you, in awe that my dream was realized. My own little one to love and nurture. There is nothing I ever wanted as much as I wanted you and your three brothers.  But it all started with you, that day and night, when I was holding my deepest desire fulfilled in all 8lbs 8oz of beautiful perfection. 

You grew with such vigor and joy, becoming YOU so quickly. As I looked at the pictures from your conference, you, standing in front of so many people, sharing your passion, other visions of you came to mind. You, in a purple long-sleeve onesie with a dog on the front, Christmas morning, surrounded by me and your dad, Nini, Bobby, and Gram and Gramps Sanders, playing your new harmonica with gusto, pausing only to look around the circle to make sure everyone was clapping. 

I saw you, reading Barnyard Dance with Bobby and saying, “One more time” at the end, every time. 

I saw you, on a stage for countless school programs, Chapels, and Class Acts. 

I saw you on a soccer field, on a football field, at your high school and college graduations. 

The name “Amelia” means “industrious” and I don’t think we could have chosen a better name for you, our go-getter, our headstrong beauty whose most-used phrase of toddlerhood was, “I do it!!”

For 25 years now, I have watched you grow, tucking away snippets of a beautiful life unfolding, away in my heart. 

You made me a mama and I couldn’t be more proud of the kind, loving, compassionate, loyal, driven, funny, strong woman you have become. 

Everything in MY life was building up to yours. 

Now, I sit back and watch you fly. 

Happy 25th Birthday, my delight of a daughter, my gift from God, my love. 

I love you to Pluto and back,

Mama

Aging: A Challenging Gift

 Having lost a child and a parent before the age of 30, the gift that it is to grow older is not lost on me. But this stage of life has thrown me and I didn’t see it coming. 

The impetus for this writing that I feel bursting out of my fingertips like a firehose begins in the 5th grade. 

I was a chubby-ish kid. Not shocking, but hang with me - I promise there’s a point. Until 5th grade, I didn’t really REALIZE I was chubby. Now that I’m thinking about it, maybe the reason is that the catalogs I loved to peruse called my size cutesy names like “Pretty Plus” and “Extra Special.” Hmmm…

Back to 5th grade. I was just doing my thing, reading, getting a horrible perm, and hanging with my girls in our club (Girl’s Only, obviously.) And then a bully started calling me a name. The name this rising young star came up with was the very original “Big Bertha.” (Pretty sure he did some hard time a while back, so I guess justice was served.) Anyway, that was the first time I remember thinking I was fat. I stayed bigger than many of my skinny little friends until high school when I started exercising and counting fat grams meticulously. It was the 90s after all. You could eat a box of Snackwell cookies for 0 grams of fat. Life was good. 

I give all this detailed background to say that, my whole life, the one thing that people consistently complimented me on was my hair. (Minus that 5th grade perm. Hard yikes.) As my physical appearance got smaller or bigger, my hair was something I actually liked about myself. 

In the last couple years, I have thought about not coloring my hair anymore. But that pride has always overtaken any notion I’ve had about embracing where I truly am in life. 

I mean, it seems unfair. My children are grown or almost grown. They don’t need me like they did before. I question who I am without the main job of being someone’s mom. It’s what I wanted to be for as long as I can remember. Add to that the other physical things that go along with being “of a certain age,” and it’s easier to see why I cling to something as silly as my hair.  

But, I am also reminded that one of my dearest friends, born just nine days before me, has been in Heaven for nearly four years and I feel guilty for complaining about the privilege I have been given. 

It’s a delicate tension that I feel so strongly so much of the time. 

If my kids are going to grow up and leave me, can’t I keep my dark hair?! 😂 Who even am I if not a brown-haired girl?!

Recently, I have been reading a book that encourages you to really seek the Lord about the things in your life that you’re holding onto instead of turning to Him. I have been praying about it. And, of course, my hair dilemma comes to mind. So, I pray the prayer that you’re not supposed to pray and ask the Lord to let me know for sure what I should do, maybe with a little, teeny-tiny sign or something. I know. I KNOW!

(Sidenote: I believe we serve a God who cares about the things weighing on our hearts, even if they’re small or inconsequential to someone else. So yes, I pray about my hair. I also pray for the important stuff, too!)

Wouldn’t you know, last Sunday, our pastor’s sermon title was “The Honor of Age in a Youth-Obsessed Culture.” I think he read every verse in the Bible that mentions gray hair. Guess what? They’re all positive. A crown. A sign of wisdom. So much for a teeny-tiny sign. And then a post from a beautiful brown-haired friend about her decision to let her “crown of wisdom” shine through. Okay, Lord. 

So, maybe it’s time. 

But why is it so emotional? If anyone has read this far, can you relate? Do you want to start a “Hair Club for Women” support group? 😂