Somethings in life are offered as a privilege and an honor and should be respected with dignity.
Those same things can be taken away from you for things that happened in the past that weren't you fault.
This should be taken with the same dignity.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
I miss you Grandma...
In a few hours, it will be 5 years since my Grandmother passed away.
From the time I was born, until I left for college in the fall of 1996, I saw Grandma and Papa every day. Usually multiple times. When I was waiting on the bus for school, I'd get up a bit earlier to go in and talk to her before it was time to go to the stop. When I moved, I'd call her several times a day just to see what she was up to and what she was scolding Papa about doing that he shouldn't have been doing. Like crawling up in the unfinished attic to get something that he didn't really need, or setting up scaffolding to check on the chimney. Sometimes I think he just did things to make her react *lol*
When I was getting things ready for my wedding and there was a huge issue with my dress, Grandma bitched at the woman and pretty much tore her a new asshole. If I wouldn't have been so upset at the time, I would have been laughing at this woman cowering over my little 5 foot tall grandma screaming at this woman. I remember the drive home from Ohio, where the shop was, where Grandma was fuming the whole way. Makes me giggle now just to think of how she was able to hold a grudge against this woman. She wasn't about to let this idiot ruin my wedding -- and she wasn't shy about letting anyone know about it either!
I remember driving up to her place after a dr's appointment I had on September 11, 2001. I had lunch with her as we watched the news coverage about the Twin Towers. She begged me not to go back down to Pittsburgh since there was such worry about something happening with CMU or one of the other big things down here. Part of me wanted to stay with her since she was so afraid, but another part wanted to get back down home to check on everyone else. I stayed there longer than I think I would have otherwise and then headed back home. I called her several times that day to give her updates. I remember how worried she was that we were too close to where something could happen.
She was tickled pink (or blue as the case may be) when I told her I was pregnant with Liam. She loved us grandkids, but we were chopped liver compared to the great-grandkids. Papa ended up in the hospital with quadruple bypass surgery and replacement of his aortic valve just a week or so before my baby shower. Poor Grandma was torn between wanting to be at the shower and wanting to be with Papa. I felt horrible for her. She ended up coming to the shower and then leaving to go to Papa's hospital room. I'd drive up from Pittsburgh to Butler when Mom had to work to drive Grandma in to the hospital, or to pick her up after Mom dropped her off in the morning to take her home to force her to relax. Tho anyone who ever knew Grandma knew she didn't relax that easily. After Liam was born, she was the first one I wanted someone to call. I remember calling her the next day from the hospital and her telling me that she didn't want us to drive up for Papa's birthday party on the 3rd. I told her like hell I wouldn't be there! I think she knew that I wasn't going to miss bringing Liam up to meet them:
Again, she loved her great-grandkids more than I thought possible of anyone to love someone. This is Liam in the crib that was Grandma's when she was a baby:
How many kids are lucky enough to sleep or play in a crib that was their great-grandmothers? Not very many at all ;)
She loved babysitting him while I went to help Mom at her office. She never would tell us if she was in pain and couldn't take care of him. She always wanted to. She'd sit with him in that squeaky old rocking chair with no arm supports that was in the diningroom and rock with him for hours. I remember one time we came in and she said "Oh good. My arm fell asleep about 20 mins ago, but I didn't want to put him down!" She was afraid he'd wake up ;)
She always had so much joy in her face when she was playing with him (or really any of the great-grandkids for that matter)
She hated to get her picture taken, but would never fight if she had a kid in her lap ;)
Even when they all wouldn't fit on her lap at the same time:
And then she finally had her great-granddaughters. OMG I thought she was going to go through the roof with excitement. I actually don't have any of her and Esther on my computer... Thought I did. Hrm... But I do have her and Victoria:
I think the worst thing about when she got sick was she couldn't play with the kids... and couldn't hold them. I know somewhere I have the last pictures of her holding Victoria and Esther as babies, during her last Thanksgiving and Christmas, but I don't know where they are right now... and honestly, I don't want to remember her that way. I want to remember her as the woman who took me camping... who "fought" with Papa about little things, but never actually fought... who loved her husband more than anything, and he loved her back just as much, if not more.
I visited her at the hospitals with Liam. I didn't care if kids were allowed there or not. He was there and they could just deal. Liam and I visited her at Sunnyview and I tried to figure out ways to move back home to take care of her in her own home for her last months. I still to this day wish I would have figured out some way... Papa ended up with pneumonia and couldn't go in to see her for those last few weeks. That still tears me up like I should have been able to do something about it. I called her on the phone in the nursing home and talked to her as much as I could. My phone bill for those last two months was through the roof, but I didn't care. I would have done anything to talk to her more... to be there with her more.
Mom called me first thing that morning to let me know, but part of me already knew. I know part of her knew before she answered the call from the nursing home to tell her.
At her funeral, we were able to put together montages of her old pictures. Mom found one that she had sent Papa when he was overseas in the war. It was the most hilarious picture! She had her skirt hiked up and was posed all sexy. I'm sure she cursed the hell out of us for finding it and having it on display at the funeral. That is right before she laughed at us for laughing like hyenas at it.
I still think that it was Grandma who enticed Liam to run behind (and then around) the casket... almost knocking it and all of the flowers over. Almost gave Aunt Dorothy (Grandma's sister) a heart attack when she saw the curtains suddenly moving... then we saw this cute little face peek out and smile.
I also remember that her funeral was the first (and probably only) that I had ever been to that had a "play room" set up beside the viewing. We all had our kids with us. I'm sure some people think that a funeral isn't a good place for kids, but honestly, it's where we all needed to be. Liam doesn't remember the funeral, tho he remembers going to her grave and putting a rose into the casket box before it was lowered into the ground. Liam remembers playing with her and Papa. He asks to go visit Grandma Eleanor's grave and occasionally scolds me when we don't go often enough.
Ethan was born the year that Grandma passed away... but at the end of it, rather than the beginning. 2005 started with a death, and ended with a birth for me. We came up to Grandma's grave when Ethan was not very old. Liam asked if he could come up and said he had something very important to do. I said sure... couldn't figure out what he had to do. He made me get the baby out of the car and go to the grave. He told Ethan that he wanted him to meet Grandma Eleanor. Then he went and sat down infront of her tombstone and told her all about Ethan and about how much that she would have loved playing with him had she still been alive. Then he turned to me and told me that she already knew how great he was -- he said she came and visited us regularly, so there was no need for me to cry about her being gone. She wasn't.
Then he kissed her name on the tombstone and got back into the car.
There is only one thing that I'd like to ask of Grandma now... 5 years after her death... How can I help Papa more? I know he's hurting more than any of us. He lives in the house that he built for her some 60 years ago. He lives alone. My Mom goes in to take care of him daily and makes him food, pays his bills, etc, but she works during the days. My dad is not the kind of person who would do anything to help someone, so 99.9% of the time he won't speak to Papa for any reason. I can't get up nearly as often as I want to with the boys. I could call him more, but he hates talking on the phone -- which is the opposite of Grandma who practically had a phone attached to her ear at all times. I just want to know what to do for him to make him know just how much we love him too. I want him to feel the love that used to be all around him when Grandma was alive. I want to see him laugh and smile like he used to at family gatherings.
I guess I just want him to have Grandma back.
From the time I was born, until I left for college in the fall of 1996, I saw Grandma and Papa every day. Usually multiple times. When I was waiting on the bus for school, I'd get up a bit earlier to go in and talk to her before it was time to go to the stop. When I moved, I'd call her several times a day just to see what she was up to and what she was scolding Papa about doing that he shouldn't have been doing. Like crawling up in the unfinished attic to get something that he didn't really need, or setting up scaffolding to check on the chimney. Sometimes I think he just did things to make her react *lol*
When I was getting things ready for my wedding and there was a huge issue with my dress, Grandma bitched at the woman and pretty much tore her a new asshole. If I wouldn't have been so upset at the time, I would have been laughing at this woman cowering over my little 5 foot tall grandma screaming at this woman. I remember the drive home from Ohio, where the shop was, where Grandma was fuming the whole way. Makes me giggle now just to think of how she was able to hold a grudge against this woman. She wasn't about to let this idiot ruin my wedding -- and she wasn't shy about letting anyone know about it either!
I remember driving up to her place after a dr's appointment I had on September 11, 2001. I had lunch with her as we watched the news coverage about the Twin Towers. She begged me not to go back down to Pittsburgh since there was such worry about something happening with CMU or one of the other big things down here. Part of me wanted to stay with her since she was so afraid, but another part wanted to get back down home to check on everyone else. I stayed there longer than I think I would have otherwise and then headed back home. I called her several times that day to give her updates. I remember how worried she was that we were too close to where something could happen.
She was tickled pink (or blue as the case may be) when I told her I was pregnant with Liam. She loved us grandkids, but we were chopped liver compared to the great-grandkids. Papa ended up in the hospital with quadruple bypass surgery and replacement of his aortic valve just a week or so before my baby shower. Poor Grandma was torn between wanting to be at the shower and wanting to be with Papa. I felt horrible for her. She ended up coming to the shower and then leaving to go to Papa's hospital room. I'd drive up from Pittsburgh to Butler when Mom had to work to drive Grandma in to the hospital, or to pick her up after Mom dropped her off in the morning to take her home to force her to relax. Tho anyone who ever knew Grandma knew she didn't relax that easily. After Liam was born, she was the first one I wanted someone to call. I remember calling her the next day from the hospital and her telling me that she didn't want us to drive up for Papa's birthday party on the 3rd. I told her like hell I wouldn't be there! I think she knew that I wasn't going to miss bringing Liam up to meet them:
Again, she loved her great-grandkids more than I thought possible of anyone to love someone. This is Liam in the crib that was Grandma's when she was a baby:
How many kids are lucky enough to sleep or play in a crib that was their great-grandmothers? Not very many at all ;)
She loved babysitting him while I went to help Mom at her office. She never would tell us if she was in pain and couldn't take care of him. She always wanted to. She'd sit with him in that squeaky old rocking chair with no arm supports that was in the diningroom and rock with him for hours. I remember one time we came in and she said "Oh good. My arm fell asleep about 20 mins ago, but I didn't want to put him down!" She was afraid he'd wake up ;)
She always had so much joy in her face when she was playing with him (or really any of the great-grandkids for that matter)
She hated to get her picture taken, but would never fight if she had a kid in her lap ;)
Even when they all wouldn't fit on her lap at the same time:
And then she finally had her great-granddaughters. OMG I thought she was going to go through the roof with excitement. I actually don't have any of her and Esther on my computer... Thought I did. Hrm... But I do have her and Victoria:
I think the worst thing about when she got sick was she couldn't play with the kids... and couldn't hold them. I know somewhere I have the last pictures of her holding Victoria and Esther as babies, during her last Thanksgiving and Christmas, but I don't know where they are right now... and honestly, I don't want to remember her that way. I want to remember her as the woman who took me camping... who "fought" with Papa about little things, but never actually fought... who loved her husband more than anything, and he loved her back just as much, if not more.
I visited her at the hospitals with Liam. I didn't care if kids were allowed there or not. He was there and they could just deal. Liam and I visited her at Sunnyview and I tried to figure out ways to move back home to take care of her in her own home for her last months. I still to this day wish I would have figured out some way... Papa ended up with pneumonia and couldn't go in to see her for those last few weeks. That still tears me up like I should have been able to do something about it. I called her on the phone in the nursing home and talked to her as much as I could. My phone bill for those last two months was through the roof, but I didn't care. I would have done anything to talk to her more... to be there with her more.
Mom called me first thing that morning to let me know, but part of me already knew. I know part of her knew before she answered the call from the nursing home to tell her.
At her funeral, we were able to put together montages of her old pictures. Mom found one that she had sent Papa when he was overseas in the war. It was the most hilarious picture! She had her skirt hiked up and was posed all sexy. I'm sure she cursed the hell out of us for finding it and having it on display at the funeral. That is right before she laughed at us for laughing like hyenas at it.
I still think that it was Grandma who enticed Liam to run behind (and then around) the casket... almost knocking it and all of the flowers over. Almost gave Aunt Dorothy (Grandma's sister) a heart attack when she saw the curtains suddenly moving... then we saw this cute little face peek out and smile.
I also remember that her funeral was the first (and probably only) that I had ever been to that had a "play room" set up beside the viewing. We all had our kids with us. I'm sure some people think that a funeral isn't a good place for kids, but honestly, it's where we all needed to be. Liam doesn't remember the funeral, tho he remembers going to her grave and putting a rose into the casket box before it was lowered into the ground. Liam remembers playing with her and Papa. He asks to go visit Grandma Eleanor's grave and occasionally scolds me when we don't go often enough.
Ethan was born the year that Grandma passed away... but at the end of it, rather than the beginning. 2005 started with a death, and ended with a birth for me. We came up to Grandma's grave when Ethan was not very old. Liam asked if he could come up and said he had something very important to do. I said sure... couldn't figure out what he had to do. He made me get the baby out of the car and go to the grave. He told Ethan that he wanted him to meet Grandma Eleanor. Then he went and sat down infront of her tombstone and told her all about Ethan and about how much that she would have loved playing with him had she still been alive. Then he turned to me and told me that she already knew how great he was -- he said she came and visited us regularly, so there was no need for me to cry about her being gone. She wasn't.
Then he kissed her name on the tombstone and got back into the car.
There is only one thing that I'd like to ask of Grandma now... 5 years after her death... How can I help Papa more? I know he's hurting more than any of us. He lives in the house that he built for her some 60 years ago. He lives alone. My Mom goes in to take care of him daily and makes him food, pays his bills, etc, but she works during the days. My dad is not the kind of person who would do anything to help someone, so 99.9% of the time he won't speak to Papa for any reason. I can't get up nearly as often as I want to with the boys. I could call him more, but he hates talking on the phone -- which is the opposite of Grandma who practically had a phone attached to her ear at all times. I just want to know what to do for him to make him know just how much we love him too. I want him to feel the love that used to be all around him when Grandma was alive. I want to see him laugh and smile like he used to at family gatherings.
I guess I just want him to have Grandma back.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Copied from my LJ
I have a second journal at http://skyrose.livejournal.com/ which usually has more non-parenting stuff. I'll probably be cross-posting for a while until I figure out what is doing where ;)
Things I miss... or do you have to visit a Hellmouth to find a date?
I was watching some old episodes of Buffy today while sketching my outline for class and it made me think of a lot of things. I'm probably one of the few people who start thinking deeply about things while watching *Buffy*, but anyways....
Watching the scenes with Zander and Cordelia... and then the whole thing with Willow/Zander and Willow/Oz and Zander/Cordelia made me really wish that I had someone to go out with... to cuddle with... to have sex with... hell, someone who cares about me in that way at all or who can touch me without making it look like they've just touched someone with the plague accidentally. I miss it.
What I do know is that I miss having a guy (or girl) to just flirt with, hang out with, to come with me to take the kids to the mall to the play area. Someone to be with to enjoy each other's company. Not to be forced or coerced to do stuff and have them sitting and watching the clock the whole time.
Come to think about it, when I was dating, Karl and I got along a *lot* better than any other time. Maybe we are both just more relaxed? I don't know.
I'm not even sure where I would go to find someone. I never really did the whole "dating" thing to begin with, so it's not like I could "get back into" it. And really, where does one who has two kids with special needs get time to date or find someone!? Is there a match.com for parents of special needs kids? :P
Or, as I said in the subject... do you have to visit a Hellmouth to find a date?
Mood: curious
Things I miss... or do you have to visit a Hellmouth to find a date?
I was watching some old episodes of Buffy today while sketching my outline for class and it made me think of a lot of things. I'm probably one of the few people who start thinking deeply about things while watching *Buffy*, but anyways....
Watching the scenes with Zander and Cordelia... and then the whole thing with Willow/Zander and Willow/Oz and Zander/Cordelia made me really wish that I had someone to go out with... to cuddle with... to have sex with... hell, someone who cares about me in that way at all or who can touch me without making it look like they've just touched someone with the plague accidentally. I miss it.
What I do know is that I miss having a guy (or girl) to just flirt with, hang out with, to come with me to take the kids to the mall to the play area. Someone to be with to enjoy each other's company. Not to be forced or coerced to do stuff and have them sitting and watching the clock the whole time.
Come to think about it, when I was dating, Karl and I got along a *lot* better than any other time. Maybe we are both just more relaxed? I don't know.
I'm not even sure where I would go to find someone. I never really did the whole "dating" thing to begin with, so it's not like I could "get back into" it. And really, where does one who has two kids with special needs get time to date or find someone!? Is there a match.com for parents of special needs kids? :P
Or, as I said in the subject... do you have to visit a Hellmouth to find a date?
Mood: curious
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