In hopes of being truthful -A story of Keith

In hopes of being truthful to my hopes of being a published children's book author, I decided that I will put out stories that I write on here. These will not be ones that I am not trying to get published at the moment, but have been helpful along the way. And I will help with context, as there are no pictures, by telling you a little about them prior to the post.

This first one is "The Story of Keith Kurak", which happens to be my husband. I was playing around with picture book biographies a bit because I absolutely love them and they have absolutely captivated me many times. Anyone read Mo Willems "Because"? This is the type of book I am talking about here. Or has anyone read "Star Stuff" by Stephanie Roth Sisson, a biography about Carl Sagan. If you haven't read either of these, you probably should. And this is the light that I wrote this next bit.

The Story of Keith Kurak

by Kiera Kurak

There was a little boy named Keith.

Keith liked to play with cars and blocks. In it he could pretend he was in his own world. 

As Keith grew he would enter in his own world in other ways.

With his friends, he built forts in the common woods behind his house.

He would often find himself lost inside video game. 

He loved everything about the worlds that he would enter into in these places.

It always let his imagination soar.

Someday he knew he’d like to create something on a computer for someone.

As Keith got older he studied computer science.

He programmed computers for an industrial company for a while, but it wasn’t what he really enjoyed.

One day a friend asked him if he would like to make a mobile application with his company.

He said yes.

Now Keith makes a mobile apps to help people, and still enjoys a good round in the imaginary world of computer games.

Especially when he gets to play games with his kids, and help their imaginations soar too.

The End

Perhaps I will upgrade this someday with little drawing photos, but here it is for now, keeping me honest.

Creative struggle in pandemic times

I am struggling to create. I am wanting to try and create. And perhaps I am creating little bits here and there, but the anxiety of the coronavirus epidemic going on is getting the best of me. I don't like not having freedom. I don't even use all the institutions like most people do. We homeschool, my husband works from home, we usually just go outside for our social interaction. We do weekly or more go to church. Overall, it is still hard, all the information and misinformation make me a little crazy. I just shouted at my husband yesterday because it was too much for me, this new way of life. And really I realize our lives are probably only 20% different.
In my mind I was going to do all these things I wanted to get done, but my brain cannot get there most days. It feels shut down and in panic mode. Maybe, just maybe it is coming out of it. I no longer have panic attacks every night and hearing that a dear friend's family caught the virus but still got through it. They had seven people in their family with kids ages 2mos to 12yrs old and they got through it. And not that they are an example of everyone in our world, but it feels like it gives a bit of hope for me. That we can do this.
But also I think that I feel like this is calling to mind how we as a society view death. It seems everyone is afraid of death. And perhaps we are afraid of our securities going away. We are afraid. And maybe we need to look to the Saints, and see how they got through these things. Maybe its harder in our instant digital age. Maybe we just want this to be over and it can't be. Not yet they say, and they don't have an end date known.
I do think we need to find a new sense of normalcy in this mess. Have a call a day with a friend or family member. Do something that helps your community. Do something that brings you closer to God. Do something that helps your stress be less, get exercise and go outside. These are all things that I have found helpful.
But still I can only create in small bits, and I think I will get there, but pray for me that I will be able to create more as we stay isolated and therefore healthy. Creating is how I stabilize myself among the chaos. I will keep you all in my prayers too.

To my Helena Girl

I wrote this awhile back. I write when I need to process something that was terrible. I want to make it something good. At lot of times, Helena is my muse. She's a wonderful person and I love seeing her grow. And yes, we do have our hard moments, but she is truly a unique irreplaceable person and I try to be daily thankful to the gift that is her. And as she turned a year older on Saturday, I thought I would share a poem sequence that I wrote about her this past summer.

"Mama, How do You Love Me?"

by Kiera Kurak

"Mama, how do you love me?"

I love you to the moon and back.

I love you wherever you go.

I love you whatever you do.

I love you through big messes.

I love you when you snuggle with hugs and kisses.

I love you when you're being brave.

I love you when you are being silly.

I love you when you are sad or mad.

And I love you just because you are you.


_______


Happy 6th Birthday, Helena girl!

Putting memories into an actual book

A very good friend upon receiving our Christmas card and letter said that I should put all of our Christmas letters together in a book with our photo from that year and then bring it out every so often to read to the kids. Perhaps this should have been intuitive to me but it wasn't. Instead I hemmed and hawed how I would do it. There were a lot of how will I go and find all the things I need for this. And actually our printer decided to not print every other page I printed, but its coming together. And the first time I read a letter to the children and then were miniature stars of their current selves they loved it. I now have found all the letters and am working on retrieving the photos from the year, as I have them hidden in pockets around the house ( I am very organized until I am not.).

I'll leave you with this gem though from 2014,

"Ben’s passion for his friends and family in Tennessee is only eclipsed by his passion for plain pasta. On the way home, when dad went to pay the bill at the Polaris Skyline Chili, Ben followed behind him with carryout, as in, he was carrying out two fistfuls full of noodles in his bare hands. And, really, when I think of the most important thing we learned this year, it was this: when life gives you noodles and nothing to put them in, take the noodles anyway. Or ask your server for a box. Or was it to grab the oyster crackers, as well?"

Humility

Today's homily was about true humility. And man is that a hard one, because I come from a long line of prideful people that don't like to be fixed, or admit they are broken. And yet we all are. I think for me to admit that I have to let something go, and to not be able to fix it. To just sit and trust, that is humbling and so very hard. But this is where I am and if I remember that Jesus is always with me, I am okay.

A reminder that he is with me

Perhaps I shouldn't be scrolling.  But in the scrolling there was a little bit of joy.  The joy of knowing that Jesus is with me everywhere.  You see the one day that baby Jesus from our nativity sets was to be blessed,  I forgot him.  I brought him to be blessed the next day,  and Father kindly blessed them for me.  But perhaps it was a bit of the foreshadowing for me. As yesterday,  yes,  it was Christmas,  but for some reason I again forgot to display baby Jesus in the nativity. I'm calling it my midnight mass hangover,  where some of the littles just weren't at rest with going this time and it just felt like a bit of a fog. 
But today,  the 26th, I remembered to look down and in looking down I saw my necklace, always with me,  with a Jesus fish staring back at me,  and with the words written in social media,  it made me smile,  as a forever promise should,  that Jesus is always with me.  Even if I tend to be a day late in my true acknowledgment.

Warm hugs

We were delivering Christmas cards to our neighbors and it happened to have snowed, so we took out the sleds. Stellamaris was delightfully being pulled on the sled, the baby sled that she barely fits into at two years and nine months, nonetheless we made it work and she loved going around as so. The snow was a delightful surprise two inches that somehow motivated us to brave what was with the windchill, less than twenty degree weather.

One friend's home had a blowup Olaf, at what would be an approachable size. It wasn't a giant, intimidating Olaf, but what would be what I think if Olaf could possibly be a real thing, what size he would actually be. The children had recently been treated to watching Frozen 2 with their grandparents, so they have been delighted with all things Frozen.

When we had pulled up to the house and delivered the letter, Helena, who was also with us, declared that she would like to give Olaf a hug. I said, sure, I think that would be okay. I didn't expect her to destroy Olaf, but reminded her to be gentle nonetheless. Then, Stella decided she had to give Olaf a hug too. So I unbuckled her from her little sled, the buckle a key component to her feeling safe in a sled, a bigger one she won't do because there is no buckle.  And she walked her little feet over to Olaf and gave him a hug. With the biggest smile, she walked back to me and got back in the sled, and we went on our way. This was my delightful bit of joy for the day.