PAPA

My grandpa passed away two weeks ago.

Let me back up. I usually go to my grandparents for Christmas. I didn't go this year. After all my bitching about Thanksgiving, I didn't even call them. In my defense I had what I thought was a kidney infection, and all I wanted to do was go to bed. But, it's not excuse. I struggled with feeling guilty about not seeing them, but his health was poor the last few weeks and in the end I'm OK with not seeing him like that. That's not how I want to remember him. I don't want that to be my son's last thoughts of him either.

I've always called my grandpa my Papa. Even now, at age 35. Even when my mom called me at 3 in the morning, she said, "Holli? Papa died". People teased me for it, and I didn't care. He wasn't just a "grandpa", he was special to me.


My parent's separated when I was two years old. Mom moved to another city with my grandma and grandpa. My dad visited, but he wasn't exactly a fixture in my life. I saw him on weekends. My grandpa always held a special place in my heart. He was very much the man figure in my life. Some of my best memories as a child are of playing with my cousins at my grandparents house. Sitting on my grandpa's lap eating pickled bologna. Fishing with him. Catching a gigantic fish when I was in kindergarten. Digging for worms in the back yard. He was the timekeeper for a local race club and I spent many Saturday mornings with him at the races. I have so many memories of him, and they are all good.

My grandpa was a good man. He was a lot like me- didn't like to talk about himself, kept his feelings to himself, but wore his heart on his sleeve. He loved us kids so much, and I don't doubt for a second he would give his life for any one of us. I always knew if I needed anything my grandparents would help me, and they did many times.

One of the things that sticks out in my mind about Brenna's funeral is my Papa's face. He couldn't even look up at the pastor. I could tell it was tearing him up inside.

I had 35 years with my grandparents, and I consider myself lucky. My son is almost 15 years old and he has so many great memories of my Papa, and I am so thankful for that.

Here is one of my favorite pictures of my grandpa and my son:

This was taken in 2003. My Papa got my son involved in running the races with the running club he kept time for. Today, track is my son's favorite sport and I think it has a lot to do with those early years he spent running with my Papa.

My life is not going to be the same without my Papa in it. There is one less person in this world who loves me. I find peace in knowing he went to sleep and never woke up. He died peacefully.

That is all any of us can ask for.

(Yes, the first picture is of tiny me and my oldest brother with my Papa.)

JUMBLED

I have so many things floating around in my head that I want to talk about, but it seems like I just haven't had the time to do it. So here's my life in a nutshell:

• School is going great. For the first time in my life I have a 4.0!
• My son is thriving at his school. Sending him there turned out to be the best decision ever. 
• My husband is still working, which is great because we weren't sure how long this job was going to last. Now we are being told it's a five year project. Awesome.
• I am still moving forward with plans on opening my own business. I can't wait. 
• My brother moved out of our house a few weeks ago. I miss having him around, but I'm glad that he's happy. 
• My grandmother came home from the nursing home, and my grandpa went into the hospital. 

Now here is your reward for even caring about what's happening in my life:

Merry Christmas!

THIS IS MY THANKSGIVING RANT

Two Thanksgivings ago I wrote this post about my grandparents. My grandfather was in a rehab facility and we took my grandma to visit him. I remember it fondly.

This year the tables are turned- my grandma is in the same rehab/nursing home and my grandpa is home.

My grandparents have seven children. Three don't live in our state, and quite honestly my grandparents don't talk to them very often. They probably don't even know my grandma is in the nursing home.

The other four- my mother, my aunt, and my two uncles- all live in the same town as my grandparents.

My grandparents also have a lot of grandchildren. I have lost count, but I know it's close to 20. Five of them still live in the same town I grew up in. (I don't, I live about an hour away).

Yesterday, after having Thanksgiving dinner at my parent's house, my son, husband and I stopped over to see my grandpa and then went to the nursing home to see my grandma. My grandma had came home the day before to celebrate Thanksgiving with my grandpa, so I knew she would be at the nursing home. (We invited him to my parents house, but he declined).

Still, I was heartbroken when I went to see them- my grandpa was alone the entire day. No one came to see him, no one called. Same for my grandma. When we went to see her she was so happy. But, the first thing she said to me was, "Where is everyone?".

My mom was busy cooking dinner, my aunt and one uncle had to work, my other uncle busy with his family. I realize people get caught up in life. I know how it goes. But really, no one could pick up the fricking phone? Couldn't take five minutes out of their day to tell their elderly parents/grandparents Happy Thanksgiving? Especially knowing the physical condition they are in and that this could very well be their last on this earth.

My husband's family is far from close. But after his dad died a day never went by that someone wasn't calling or visiting my mother in law. Someone was always visiting or calling her. Even towards the end of her life, when a broken hip forced us to make the horrible decision to put her in a nursing home. Even though none of us lived closer than an hour away, she had a visitor every day. Even if it was only for twenty minutes. Even if she didn't know we were there. We still were.

Maybe it's because I took care of my mother in law for the last year and a half of her life. Maybe it's because I know that one day you will regret how frustrated you became taking care of them. Maybe it's because I've been there that I can look at my grandparent's now and realize that one day their children and grandchildren are going to regret what they are doing to them. It seems like an inconvenience now, but one day you will long for it with a broken heart...

Why is it that it's only after someone is gone that we truly appreciate them?

My grandparents are far from perfect. But they don't deserve to spend the holidays alone.

Your children will treat you the way you treat your parents. 

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law and four-year-old grandson.  The old man’s hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred and his step faltered.

The family ate together at the table but the elderly grandfather’s shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult.  Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor.  When he grasped the glass milk spilled on the tablecloth.

The son and daughter-in-law became unhappy with the mess.  “We must do something about Grandfather,” said the son. “I don’t like this spilled milk, noisy eating and food on the floor.”

The husband and wife then set a small table in the corner.  There Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner at the dining-table.  Since Grandfather had broken a plate or two his food was served in a wooden bowl.

When the family glanced in Grandfather’s direction they noticed he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone.  Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.

The four-year-old watched it all in silence.  One evening, before supper, the father noticed his son playing with his wooden blocks - especially the curved ones.  He asked the child sweetly, “What ARE you making?”

Just as sweetly, the boy responded, “Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up.”  The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.

The words so struck the parents that they were speechless.  Tears then started to stream down their cheeks.  Though no word was spoken both knew what must be done.

That evening the husband took Grandfather’s hand and gently led him back to the family table.  For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family and for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled or the tablecloth soiled.

CHEATER, CHEATER?

I had to write a paper in one of my classes that had to include my personal thoughts and experiences. I struggled with this paper because I knew what I wanted to write, but I didn't want to write it. I was afraid that if I wrote about my losing Brenna and the physical and emotional recovery that I endured that I would get a "pity" grade. Oh, poor girl, how can I give her an E when she just wrote about losing her child and nearly dying. I wanted to make sure that I earned the grade.

I tried to write the paper and leave that part out, but it just didn't work. It was flat and unauthentic.  How do you write about your life and leave out the most defining moment of it?

You can't.

I ended up writing it the way I wanted. It was personal and passionate and I knew it was a good paper.

I got an A.

In fact, I received the highest grade in the class.

My teacher gave me a gift for getting the highest grade, which I thought was very nice. He pointed out that I made points (beside my loss) that no one else had ever done in any of his classes. He was impressed with my way of thinking and said he enjoyed my paper. But I can't help but feel like I didn't really earn that grade. I sort of feel like a cheater. Like I pulled the pity card to get a good grade. It feels like an empty victory.

Am I a cheater? What would you have done?

BRIDGE DAY

Ever since I met my husband he's wanted to to to West Virginia for their annual Bridge Day. It where these people with a screw loose base jump off from an 800 foot bridge. It was actually pretty crazy to see. I was nervous just standing on the bridge (it is HIGH), I couldn't imagine jumping off from the thing. It was crazy.

Afterwards, there was enough daylight that we were able to visit several of the State Parks. That was my favorite part of our trip. We saw some of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. My brother and sister in law went with us and we have just a really great time.

BLAST FROM THE PAST

Remember the scandal from a few years ago when someone had a fake blog about her pregnancy and then tried to pass off a doll as her dead child? I believe she called her "baby" April Rose, and it was even reported in the Chicago Tribune. (If not you can read my posts on it here, here, and here.) Well, an alert reader just sent me a link to a new post on the once defunct Little One April blog. Funny thing is the new post (supposedly written by a friend) is a word-for-word copy of a comment left on my blog over two years ago.

Check it out for yourself:

Comment on my blog (Scroll down half way, it's the one from "Lynn")

New Post on the Little One April blog.

Craziest thing ever.

FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

For both of us!

(My first day back in college, his first day in high school!)