Flashback to my grandmother

B's grandfather is elderly (duh) and not exactly in the best health. Recently, he has had to spend sometime at a nursing home to get back on his feet. 

We went to visit him.

Nursing homes must all be about the same. We walked in signed in and followed the signs to his room. 

In a heartbeat, I was back with my grandmother on a hot summer day instead of a winter one.  I did not anticipate this. Maybe I should have. 

My vision shifted, my ears roared, and my heart pounded.  It was just like my grandmother. B's grandfather's room was at the end of the hallway, and that hall went on forever.  Each step moving us backwards instead of forwards.

She has not been gone for very long, only 18 months, but still, I think of her daily.  I made her fudge for the holidays. I looked at her needle work and admired it.

My grandmother was pretty darn great, and I miss her.

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven

Last week was a really sad week.

A teacher at Pixie's pre-school died suddenly, which is devastating for little ones.

We also lost a dear family member- Scotty- a super sweet horse who was loved by all who knew him.

Scotty was not our horse- but we loved him like he was. When ever we would visit the barn his head would pop over the stall and he would great everyone with a kind nicker.  He was very sick, but he was always a little carrot hog.  The Wednesday before he died we were in the arena and he followed me around insisting on carrots.

Scotty was especially loved by LittleDude. Since Scotty was sick- he couldn't be ridden, LittleDude was light enough that he could sit on Scotty's back.  He would lean over and pat Scotty saying, "My Scotty."  The horse had more people who loved him than a lot of people. He was always kind and always gentle- he let the little ones lead him and he was patient when they brushed him.

His mom and owner sure had a special boy and watching them interact was a gift.  It was clear their bond was deep.  He  would have followed her to the ends of the Earth and she would have given him the moon.

When it was clear that there was nothing that could be done to 'fix' him- she dedicated herself to giving him the best life she could-- and that horse had it good!

Last week, when he was in too much pain, his time had come- and she gave him the last thing she could: and end to pain.  As we waited in the stall for the vet- we covered Scotty with blankets- so he would be warm, and while we sat with him- he smelled the carrots in my pocket and insisted on having them. His last hour was spent surrounded by his family, warm, safe, loved and snacking on his favorite treats.

The barn seemed empty after that.  I miss his gentle eyes and welcoming nicker.  Jessie, his wife- took it well.  Animals are smarter than we give them credit for.

So Skylar is 10 and sentimentality

Yesterday Princess turned 10.  How on earth did that happen? I swear last week We were taking her home from the hospital.  Se has grown from a 3 pound wonder to an amazing beautiful young lady on the cusp of becoming woman.

I am so proud to be her mother- and I sincerely hope I have not screwed up too much.

Every year since I was a little girl my mom made me a cake, yellow with chocolate frosting- per my request. My children also get to make their cake requests- and Princess requested the same.

During the day I made her cake and as I was doing it- I remembered my grandmother.  It is a family tradition to put tooth picks in the cake- whoever found one got a wish.  As I pressed the toothpicks into the cake, I remembered my excitement with my cousins and siblings over finding a toothpick.

Mostly I remembered the story-- the same story I have told to my kids about the cake.  I hope that they will carry on the tradition with their children- carrying on part of her legacy.

I miss my grandmother, I miss her everyday. But this makes me feel connected to her- a way part of her can live on.

A time to mourn

I still can't really believe my grandmother is dead.  Even the word has an empty, hollow, metallic, tone to it. 

In the last few years of her life I was able to spend a good amount of time with her and I am forever grateful.  She was never too busy for a chat or too busy for a visit.

Now, the kids will do something, and I think, "Oh Grandma will really get a kick out of that" but its me who gets a kick- she's dead.

The big thing that I wish I could tell her more about was Stinky going fishing.  Her husband, my grandfather- one of the people Stinky is named for loved to fish.  I wish I could sit with her and tell her more about it.  She would have loved it.  My brief- "He went fishing and actually caught fish!!!" does not do it justice.  Grandma would have laughed at how excited he was and laughed when I told her how awful I was at baiting the hook for him. 

One thing that stays with me is, the last time she was in the hospital and I was with her she was begging me to 'unfasten' her restraints.  First, who uses unfasten-- why not just say take them off?  Down to the word choice it was perfectly her.  Second, the angel of a nurse let me take off her restraints as long as I was with her- of course- then I would stay for the next few hours, because tying her back to the bed was the last thing that she wanted (or I wanted). 

She also asked for a handkerchief. Not a tissue. A handkerchief.  Small choices in the word choice made her-- her. 

After she had her handkerchief and was relaxed I read to her from Tom Sawyer- I didn't know any authors she liked but figured Tom Sawyer was a safe bet.

My grandmother was a wonderful woman.  An amazing person. 

Everyone Grieves Differently

We are all individuals so it shouldn't be so surprising should it?

Each of us grieve differently. Sometimes this does not go over so well when one's way of grieving drastically are opposed to another person- especially in close family.

Some people like to be around others and share memories, talk about the person who passed.  Others turn to prayer, others take charge and get things done.

Each of these types clearly has its practical application.

I am  the type of person who gets anxious. I can't sleep.  I get a nervous stomach. I want to hide.  My grief is private.

So it is hard.  Hard to balance the needs of my kids, the needs of my other family.

You see, my grandmother and I were not always particularly close.  I mean, I loved her- of course- but I felt it was a distant love- she was so amazing and so wonderful- I felt I could never measure up.

In the past several years, I became close to her. It was hard to visit her, bringing all of the kids to see her- being quiet is not there strong suit- she loved seeing them.  I loved seeing her with them.  They played with the same coasters that I played with as a kid.

My grief is more wavy. Sometimes I need to be away from everyone. Alone.  I can remember her. I can remember her laugh, her smile, her amazing fudge.

Its a basic reaction kids do something funny- I think how she'll smile or laugh when she hears about it.  Then its back.  I don't need to tell her. I can't tell her. Her soul is next to Gd.

My kids are still little not all of them will have a clear memory of her.  Her memory will be honored though.  My kids will learn what she taught me, aside from making fudge, she taught me strength, compassion, and love.

Kids tell it like it is

My wonderful grandmother died. 

She was sick and unwell for a while before she passed and in hospice care for a short time.  So it was not unexpected.

However, for a while before she passed we had not been grocery shopping. 

I looked in the fridge and realized our option for dinner included spoiled leftovers or dijon mustard.
We had to go to the store.  There was no way around it. 

I took Princess- she is getting old enough now that she actually can be helpful- and she loves helping.  More importantly- she was closer to my grandmother than the other kids and was having a hard time with the loss.  I thought it would be important to have some time with her to talk about our grandmother's death.

While we went shopping she chattered on- like nine year old girls do.  When we got to check out the cashier was making small talk. Here is what ensued.

Cashier: Hows your day going?
Princess: Its awful.
Me: (getting nervous)-- Yep, it sure is hot out.
Cashier: It certainly is.
Princess: Yeah- that and my grandmother is dead.

*cue awkward silence*

I don't think she ever checked anyone out faster after that. 

Maybe we need to find a new grocery store.

But looking back it is hysterical.  I mean- she just laid it out there, no sugar coating.