Appreciation – Carvings on a Desk

Grateful for the Moon and Other Bright Spots

Posted by Julie Jo Severson 7 Comments

Over the years, as a hobby, I’ve worked with a few people to record, transcribe, and shape their life stories into written narratives to pass along to kids and grandkids. And now I’m beginning to do so as another one of my little random freelance gigs.

During these sessions, I ask questions that I hope will trigger rich memories as we move through each phase of life, from childhood to the twilight years.

I’m impressed by how much people remember. The color of a bedspread. A burn on a coffee table. The sound of an old friend’s laugh. A conversation while riding a ski lift.

But what I’m moved by even more is the degree of gratitude that seeps out from some people as they look back on their moments.

Gratitude for family. Gratitude for friends. Gratitude for trials and tribulations. Gratitude for freedom. Gratitude for hotdogs and beans.

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Ice Cream and “I Do”

Posted by Julie Jo Severson 19 Comments

I was hired by a local magazine recently to write a feature story about a new documentary called “I Do?” and it got me thinking about my own I Do.

After making it through a rough patch in his 29-year marriage to Minnesota news legend Joan Steffend, Director Joe Brandmeier hit the road to talk to other couples about “this crazy concept of marriage.”

One question he explores is When we say “I do” . . . what exactly do we say “yes” to?

I was pondering pretty much the same thing 22-and-a-half years ago as I pulled up in my red Toyota Tercel to a US postal box, located on a street corner near the tall fancy building I worked in at the time.

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Back to Real Life

Posted by Julie Jo Severson 16 Comments

As my husband makes the final turn of our 20-minute drive home from the airport, our car’s headlights cast a sweep of yellow light across the darkened neighborhood. Until at last, the heavens open up, the choirs of angels sing, and our 1980s two-story at the end of the cul-de-sac is illuminated like a gold gilded vessel.

“Ok, everybody grab your stuff!” husband bellows back to Tween, Teen#1, and Teen#2—now tanned, peeling, and smooshed together in the middle row. Sounds of buckles unbuckling, luggage wheels racing on concrete, and siblings chattering about who gets the main bathroom first fill the late night air.

This morning we were 1600 miles away, basking in our last few hours of a week in tropical paradise including a couple of days in Disney’s magical land of make believe. Tonight, we’re back in Minnesota where people build houses on ice and eat tater-tot hot dish on a stick, and suddenly—there’s no place we’d rather be.

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