In this central and most detailed recording, Lyn Goffaux shares intimate, vivid memories of raising her four children—Julie, Celeste, Paul, and Francie—and the people and small moments that shaped those years. She begins with Julie’s birth and the surprise of recognizing a nurse, Eva Franco, who had also been present when Lyn herself was born in Cody, tying together two generations through one caregiver’s steady presence. Lyn recalls visiting Eva’s home as a child, eating cereal with canned milk, and how those sensory details stayed with her across the decades. She then paints a tender picture of coming home with newborn Julie, whose father, Ed, was initially afraid to hold the baby until Lyn gently coaxed him into it, a moment once captured in a now-lost photograph she wishes she still had. From there, Lyn reflects on how easy it is to take many photos of a first baby, and how busyness meant far fewer pictures of Celeste, Paul, and especially Francie, something she deeply regrets in hindsight. Lyn describes Julie as a fiery, emotional child who would scream so loudly when angry that neighbors worried she might be hurt, yet as an adult Julie learned to maintain impressive self-control even when inner emotions still ran strong. Celeste, by contrast, is remembered as a homebody who disliked being left with others, preferring the comfort of her own house. As she grew, Celeste became the reliable older sister Lyn trusted to watch over Paul and Francie—keeping them off the street, away from the stairs, and generally safe—though Celeste had a mischievous side when it came to raiding the cookie supply. The episode also explores their adult lives: Julie became a mother of ten children, nine living and one lost, a loss that brought deep, enduring grief. Lyn shares how Julie feels spiritually connected to the child she lost, sensing her presence in the temple and believing that this daughter continues to watch over her. Celeste, meanwhile, happily raised three children after originally feeling content with just one boy and one girl, and Lyn lovingly describes her third as a particularly handsome and charming son who became a favorite of Lyn’s own mother. Lyn talks about Paul as a very small boy who jokingly reports that he is “up to 4 feet 11,” almost five feet, matching the petite stature of Julie and Celeste, both just around five feet tall, while Lyn herself has shrunk from about 5′ 3½″ to 5′2″ with age. She then turns to Francie, who cried constantly as a baby, partly, Lyn believes, because of strict medical instructions she now regrets following. A doctor insisted Francie be awakened at 2 a.m. to eat and demanded that each feeding, burping, and settling be completed within 20 minutes, leaving no time for the slower, more nurturing rhythm Lyn had used with her other children. Lyn feels that obeying those rules made both her and Francie unhappy, and she now wishes she had trusted her own instincts instead. Francie also faced a physical challenge: one of her feet was pressed up against her shin, and Lyn had to repeatedly work it down, a process that caused Francie pain and more crying but was medically necessary. Lyn remembers Francie as stubborn and dependent during feedings, refusing to hold her own bottle for months. At six months old, Lyn began laying Francie on a blanket with the bottle in her hands, stepping away to force the baby to learn; after many cycles of crying, dropped bottles, and returning to help, Francie finally decided that if she wanted the bottle, she would have to hold it herself. Through these stories, Lyn offers a raw, compassionate look at motherhood, guilt, resilience, and the bittersweet growth of both children and parents over time.
