When, I was a little girl, I was asked the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?” - my answer was always the same - a mommy! I wanted a house full of children - sons and daughters. The answer to that question may have varied through the years - “a nurse but really a mom” - “a teacher, maybe but really a mom - always a mom!

After marrying Randy in June of 1979, we both finished our degrees at Tyndale Seminary and graduated in April of 1980. In September of that same year, we moved to Orillia, where Randy began his calling as the Associate pastor at First Baptist Church. He jumped right into his role and used his gifts with grace and love and fun. We looked forward to starting our family and I began to pray - like Hannah of the Old Testament - for a child - “O Lord of hosts - remember me - and my desire to have a child. Hannah continue to pray daily” and so did I - and in the early Spring of 1981, I knew a wee one was “on the way!” Randy and I were beyond excited! My prayers and desires and hopes and dreams of becoming a momma was coming to fruition.

I was “due” late December (1981) or early January. My pregnancy was uneventful - really - just normal. I loved my growing belly. I’ll never forget feeling those first flutterings of movement around the 4th month. We talked about names - Rebecca - for a girl but we couldn’t come up with a boy’s name. It was in my 8th month that I attended a pastor’s wives conference and met a woman - who had a son, named Zachary (God remembers). My parents arrived just after Christmas and since the baby was supposed to come any time - my Dad went back to Kingston to go to work and left Mom to stay with us to welcome our first child.

New Years came and went. I remember those days of waiting. Randy would go to the church office each morning and Mom and I would bundle up and walk and walk and walk - hoping to get my labour started. In the afternoons - Mom encouraged me to rest and she did odd jobs around the house for us. Finally - during the early hours of the morning of January 14th - the stirrings of early contractions woke us up. After labouring for the next 30 hours - Zachary Mark Jolliffe - weighing 8 pounds and 5 ounces - entered the world by Caesarean Section at 10:10 A.M. on Friday, January 15th, 1982. My dream of being a Momma was 23 years in the making and now - forty four years later - I wouldn’t change a thing.

“I am tender and fierce. I am soft and strong. I am fragile and courageous. Sometimes all in one day!” (HT)

Those early days of motherhood were truly blissful. I revelled in the joy of being Zac’s momma. The night feedings were my favourite - I’d make a cuppa - dim the living room lights - put the music on soft - and let my little nurse away. Sometimes we’d both doze off and Randy would come downstairs - turn out the lights - shut off the music - and - tuck us both back in bed. Those days passed all too quickly and soon we were counting Zac’s life in months rather than days. It wasn’t long before baby #2 was “on the way!” Joseph Benjamin (Ben) Jolliffe (God will increase) was born on Wednesday, April 6, 1983 at 9:42 am - again by Caesarean Section. Peter (Rock/Strength) Nathaniel Jolliffe was born on Monday, August 20, 1984 at 10:25 am. Our quiver was full! (Psalm 127:5)

Adam Grant said this about parenting - “Success as a parent is not determined by whether your kids get into elite schools or prestigious professions. The real test of parenting is not what children achieve, but who they become and how they treat others. We’ve been sold the wrong scoreboard. Parenting isn’t about impressive offers, packed resumes or applause. It’s about raising humans who are kind when no one is watching - who own their own mistakes - who speak up for others - who know their own worth without needing a spotlight. Success as a parent is measured by integrity - empathy - ability to love and be loved. Because raising a good human will always matter more than raising a high achiever. A child’s character will carry them further than their credentials.”

That was our goal - our dream - our purpose - our intention in raising our sons.

Our boys never knew a time when they didn’t have each other. They were so close in age. They went to the same schools - usually two of them in the same classroom. They played on the same baseball, basketball, soccer, football - (you name the sport) teams through the years. They played on worship teams together. They worked at camp IAWAH many - many summers - on staff together. They applauded each other. They challenged each other. They stood up for each other at their weddings and they stood side by side when they eulogized their beloved Dad. They always had each other and still do.

Randy and I were kids when we had our kids. We all grew up together. It was our intent to raise our sons to love God - love each other and themselves. We spent a good amount of time outside - going on hikes - playing road hockey - sand-lot baseball - water fights in the yard - camping - and summer vacation at my parent’s cottage in Westport. The boys learned to swim at the lake - (swimming lessons were in there too) - and canoe and catch frogs and fish and help Grampa stack wood. In the house - we played board games - read books - watched the Leafs and the Blue Jays and broke up more than a few tussles through the years. We also learned together - to live with grief when my brother died suddenly in the summer of ‘94 and then, when their beloved Gramma Jolliffe passed away in February of ‘95. Randy taught them how to love sacrificiously by loving me well. He taught them to be men.

Today - they are all loving husbands - sacrificial dads - faithful friends - but first - they were my sons. I am their Momma and for that I am truly grateful.