A few days after Mom died, I said to James, "You know... I had kinda thought about having one more.... but now that Mom's gone, I can't." "I know" he said. "I know." My Mom had been in the room with us when both the boys were born, and stayed those first exhausting days helping out, doing dishes, scrubbing the floor.... letting me cry, and just holding and loving my babies.
I would be lying if I said I hadn't still thought about another baby from time to time. (And though he probably won't admit it... James had from time to time too.) I was blessed with great pregnancies like my Mom... and have gorgeous babies... also like my Mom. In the back of my head, I thought, "well if James gets out and gets a great job, and we get a little more financially stable... maybe I'll mention it." But in the front of my head, I knew that there was NO WAY he would want to have a baby after age 40.
And that was it. In that brief exchange of words, we finally made the decision that we were done.
Of course we should have been done with Suttie. The instant I held him for the first time, I felt this overwhelming sense of completion. He was Ege boy number four. He was the final "cog" in our Disneyland Family. Being one of three... I knew what it was like to go to an amusement park and have to decide who was going to ride alone, or sit out.
But more than that... we aren't getting any younger and it's not like we are rolling in the cash. In fact, since James' retirement, finances have definitely been a big stress for us.
How many times did my Mom tell me...."You never wait until you are ready to have a baby... because you'll never have a baby."
I imagine it only took Mom a short amount of time to find her way to Heaven's Nursery. Just a few days after she passed, the circle of life continued with the birth of one of Lindsey's best friend's son. Of course Mom would have been drawn to this new little "Dylan." So when he was fighting for his life in those early days, I'm SURE that she was holding him tight, rocking him while the doctors here on Earth took care of him.
I'm sure it was about the time little Dylan stopped needing her that she started looking around at all those other little souls, and made a shocking discovery.
Grandbaby Number #9
I'm sure she grinned a huge grin... and rubbed her hands together with anticpation as she made her way over to this new little soul.
"Let Grandma Cindy hold you for a little while!" she must have said.
She must have known that she wouldn't get to hold this little one for long, so I'm sure she made the most of her time. I'm sure she rocked this little one in a squeaky chair just like the one she had rocked all her other Grandbabies in. "Oh you little Pumpkin Eater!" I'm sure she said more than once. "Where's Grandma's sugar?" she surely asked... and then snuggled the baby's neck to find it.
Even though there is probably no poop in Heaven... I'm sure she changed that little one's diaper multiple times... and gave that "dollbaby" several baths and slathered it in baby lotion... but only Johnson's...
And then she must have said, "Oh! I'm gonna miss you so much!" and then hugged the baby tightly for as long as she could...
And then... ready or not... she sent that baby to us. Trusting us to love it as much as she did.
And we will. Because how you could NOT love a baby that has been hand picked for you from someone who loved babies so much.
ANY baby of ANY gender.
It's bittersweet for sure. I have a really hard time looking at pictures of my Mom with her other 8 grandbabies... knowing that there will be no pictures of her with this little one. It's hard knwing that she won't be in the room with us, or there to share in all those little milestones with this little one, but how lucky is this baby to have had that special time with Grandma Cindy in Heaven?
So there it is. Through intervention divine... we are having grandbaby #9.
PS.
Please, please, please. Do not ask if we are "hoping for a girl" or say "I bet this is your girl! That is horribly offensive to us. It implies that we were in some way dissappointed when our previous babies were boys. We are hoping for a healthy baby. We ADORE our boys. My Mom ADORED our boys. If she decided that the perfect baby for us was another boy we will be thrilled. If she decided the perfect baby for us was a girl we will be thrilled.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Reunion at last...
My Grandpa passed away on April 8th. Friends and family were worried about how I would take it... since it was my birthday.... but that never bothered me a bit. I was happy that his pain had ended, he could once again walk unassisted, hear clearly, and see his wife and three oldest daughters greet him at the gates of Heaven! If nothing else, it gives me a lasting tie to a really great guy.
Grandpa called me Elaine. With all the grandkids that he had... you wouldn't be surprised if he got a name wrong here or there... but he called me Elaine because he thought that I look like Julia Louis Dreyfus on Seinfeld. He told me I just wasn't allowed to call him Krammer. I LOVED that. I loved that he said he got to see me every night on tv. I loved the fact that my 93 year old grandpa watched Seinfeld.
The funeral was hard, but for so many other reasons. It was hard because I fear that it might be one of the last times our whole family gets together. With our lives all as busy as they are... it's hard to all get together... but we did it for Grandpa. But it was especially hard to see all the pictures of my mom. In ALL the pictures... she was smiling like crazy. She was ALWAYS happiest when she was with her family... so the pictures reflected that. It was hard to be there and not have my mom there to lean on. It was hard to see all those same people again so soon who loved my Mom. Mom was just like Grandpa... she kept the family together.
On the day that we got married, Grandpa was at Mom and Dad's house while I was getting ready. I wish I had had a video camera... or a tape recorder... because Grandpa sang me a song that day. I can't remember all the words... but it basically went along the lines of
"She's getting married, she looks pretty... I hope they hurry up before he changes his mind...." and then he giggled. He thought he was pretty darn funny... and so did I!
I'm sure once he got to Heaven, those women started fussing over him... getting him food.... making sure he was wearing what they thought he should be wearing....
Or just checking to make sure he was doing ok.
Grandpa called me Elaine. With all the grandkids that he had... you wouldn't be surprised if he got a name wrong here or there... but he called me Elaine because he thought that I look like Julia Louis Dreyfus on Seinfeld. He told me I just wasn't allowed to call him Krammer. I LOVED that. I loved that he said he got to see me every night on tv. I loved the fact that my 93 year old grandpa watched Seinfeld.
The funeral was hard, but for so many other reasons. It was hard because I fear that it might be one of the last times our whole family gets together. With our lives all as busy as they are... it's hard to all get together... but we did it for Grandpa. But it was especially hard to see all the pictures of my mom. In ALL the pictures... she was smiling like crazy. She was ALWAYS happiest when she was with her family... so the pictures reflected that. It was hard to be there and not have my mom there to lean on. It was hard to see all those same people again so soon who loved my Mom. Mom was just like Grandpa... she kept the family together.
On the day that we got married, Grandpa was at Mom and Dad's house while I was getting ready. I wish I had had a video camera... or a tape recorder... because Grandpa sang me a song that day. I can't remember all the words... but it basically went along the lines of
"She's getting married, she looks pretty... I hope they hurry up before he changes his mind...." and then he giggled. He thought he was pretty darn funny... and so did I!
I'm sure once he got to Heaven, those women started fussing over him... getting him food.... making sure he was wearing what they thought he should be wearing....
Or just checking to make sure he was doing ok.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
My Grandpa Walter is dying. Well that's what all the doctors say. His kidneys are failing, he has lung cancer, and his blood pressure has been dropping. His sight is almost gone, his hearing is crap, he is trapped and isolated in this once strong body.
Obviously the doctors didn't ask GW what he thought about this dying business. Because even though we were told it was a matter of maybe two days... he's still fighting.
But that's who he is.
He was an orphan by the age of 11, and then bounced from family member to family member. Even with that, he managed to enroll in junior college before entering the War.
He's buried a wife, an infant son, and three grown daughters.
He asked last night, "Why am I still here?"
I have to think he's been wondering that for awhile.
Obviously the doctors didn't ask GW what he thought about this dying business. Because even though we were told it was a matter of maybe two days... he's still fighting.
But that's who he is.
He was an orphan by the age of 11, and then bounced from family member to family member. Even with that, he managed to enroll in junior college before entering the War.
He's buried a wife, an infant son, and three grown daughters.
He asked last night, "Why am I still here?"
I have to think he's been wondering that for awhile.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
At the funeral, Aunt Darla got up to speak.
I really don't know how she held it together.. other than she IS my mother's sister. Like Mom, Aunt Darla handles times like that with an amazing amount of dignity and grace. Even through her own grief... she has been an incredible source of support for me.
At the funeral... she said "Whenever you want to talk about your mom... I want to talk about her too"
And who better to talk to other my Dad and the girls than her? Like me and the girls... she has known my Mom her whole life. Growning up they shared a bathroom, a bedroom, and even a bed.
When I talk to her, it comforts me. Not because she sounds like my Mom, or says the things that my Mom would have said, but because she knew her. She loved her. She misses her too.
When I tell her things that I would want to tell Mom... she can picture Mom's reaction and it helps me picture it too.
"Oh Sara, she would be grinning from ear to ear rubbing her hands together like crazy!"
She WOULD be.
In September I talked to the brother of a friend I had lost a long time ago. It was the anniversary of her death, and I wanted him to know that I still thought of her too. Selfish I know, but that's how I roll. What he said stuck with me... and means even more now than it did back then. He said, "sometimes I forget that my family and I are not the only ones to have lost somebody close to us."
I've tried to remember that these last months. While not everyone lost their Mom or wife... people lost their sister, their aunt, their daughter, their grandma, their co-worker and their friend. Their loss isn't any less than the one we had. Their relationship was different, so their loss was different.
But they still knew her... and they loved her... and I need to continue to remember that... and I need to continue to draw from that. Because their experiences were different, they have different memories or insights into the person she was... all things that will help me know her more.
And so what if I cry when I talk to people. I cry when I DON'T talk to people. And if you shouldn't "drink" alone... I don't think you should "cry" alone either.
I'm sure Mom just threw her hands up in the air and said, "Finally!' So it took me awhile. I'm just a little slow at times.
I really don't know how she held it together.. other than she IS my mother's sister. Like Mom, Aunt Darla handles times like that with an amazing amount of dignity and grace. Even through her own grief... she has been an incredible source of support for me.
At the funeral... she said "Whenever you want to talk about your mom... I want to talk about her too"
And who better to talk to other my Dad and the girls than her? Like me and the girls... she has known my Mom her whole life. Growning up they shared a bathroom, a bedroom, and even a bed.
When I talk to her, it comforts me. Not because she sounds like my Mom, or says the things that my Mom would have said, but because she knew her. She loved her. She misses her too.
When I tell her things that I would want to tell Mom... she can picture Mom's reaction and it helps me picture it too.
"Oh Sara, she would be grinning from ear to ear rubbing her hands together like crazy!"
She WOULD be.
In September I talked to the brother of a friend I had lost a long time ago. It was the anniversary of her death, and I wanted him to know that I still thought of her too. Selfish I know, but that's how I roll. What he said stuck with me... and means even more now than it did back then. He said, "sometimes I forget that my family and I are not the only ones to have lost somebody close to us."
I've tried to remember that these last months. While not everyone lost their Mom or wife... people lost their sister, their aunt, their daughter, their grandma, their co-worker and their friend. Their loss isn't any less than the one we had. Their relationship was different, so their loss was different.
But they still knew her... and they loved her... and I need to continue to remember that... and I need to continue to draw from that. Because their experiences were different, they have different memories or insights into the person she was... all things that will help me know her more.
And so what if I cry when I talk to people. I cry when I DON'T talk to people. And if you shouldn't "drink" alone... I don't think you should "cry" alone either.
I'm sure Mom just threw her hands up in the air and said, "Finally!' So it took me awhile. I'm just a little slow at times.
Friday, March 18, 2011
I got to spend a couple of days with some great friends at a conference this week. And in the middle of all that learning, we were able to take a quick trip to an outlet mall. Shopping is always one of those things that makes me think of my mom. As I'm shopping, I can easily pick out the things that I know she would have loved. Shoes, clothes, etc.
When we went into a perfume store... I thought about my mom LOTS. My mom wore Estee Lauder perfume for as long as I can remember... and for most of that the scent YouthDew (before switching to Pleasures becaue Dad liked the shape of the bottle).
And as I've mentioned before she wore Ban Roll-On deodorant my entire life.
So when I saw this... I knew she would have loved it. And maybe they just have it in "her" heaven.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
I had quite the little meltdown a little while ago. It was silly. And I feel pretty ridiculous, but it is what it is.
Suttie and I were on our way to Tumble Tots, so I thought it was a good opportunity to give my Dad my quick daily call. It was 6:30 his time, well past his normal time for getting home.
He didn't answer the house phone. Strange, sure, but no big deal, so I left him a message.
Then I tried his cell phone. It's been the joke since he got it that he couldn't escape the three of us girls anymore...
He didn't answer that either.
I started feeling a little panicky.
I tried the house phone again. Maybe he had just been outside. Still no answer.
My panic started rising.
This is how is starts you see....
You try to reach them and they don't answer.
In those short minutes... I started flashing back to Karri calling and saying she couldn't get ahold of Mom.
I CAN NOT survive this again.
So trying to keep my panic in check. And knowing there is no way in Hell I could call Karri and put her in the same situation... I called my Uncle Chad.
I (not so) casually asked if he knew if my Dad had any plans for tonight... and he didn't.
I started crying on the phone and told him that it just freaked me out a little, which he understood.... so he offered to go check on him. He's still mad that Dad had called Karri that night instead of him...
I hung up from him and tried Dad one more time. By now I could hardly drive because I was crying so hard.
He answered.
I just started yelling at him. I couldn't even talk to him. Just told him to call Uncle Chad to tell him where he was.
He had no idea of how freaked out I had been... he had just gone to dinner at my cousin's house. He does that every Wednesday night. I knew that, and Uncle Chad remembered it right after we had hung up and called back to tell me, I just didn't get his message.
He must have walked out the door right before I started calling, and his cell phone only rang the one time... the time that he answered.
It was silly.
I should have taken a moment, taken a deep breath and thought about it. But in that moment.. there was no thinking rationally. I could only think about how terrified I am now of losing my Dad.
My whole life he's been preparing me for his early departure. But he's got to get over that now. He's the only parent I have left, and I need him around for a lot longer.
And I need him to get better service on his cell phone.
Suttie and I were on our way to Tumble Tots, so I thought it was a good opportunity to give my Dad my quick daily call. It was 6:30 his time, well past his normal time for getting home.
He didn't answer the house phone. Strange, sure, but no big deal, so I left him a message.
Then I tried his cell phone. It's been the joke since he got it that he couldn't escape the three of us girls anymore...
He didn't answer that either.
I started feeling a little panicky.
I tried the house phone again. Maybe he had just been outside. Still no answer.
My panic started rising.
This is how is starts you see....
You try to reach them and they don't answer.
In those short minutes... I started flashing back to Karri calling and saying she couldn't get ahold of Mom.
I CAN NOT survive this again.
So trying to keep my panic in check. And knowing there is no way in Hell I could call Karri and put her in the same situation... I called my Uncle Chad.
I (not so) casually asked if he knew if my Dad had any plans for tonight... and he didn't.
I started crying on the phone and told him that it just freaked me out a little, which he understood.... so he offered to go check on him. He's still mad that Dad had called Karri that night instead of him...
I hung up from him and tried Dad one more time. By now I could hardly drive because I was crying so hard.
He answered.
I just started yelling at him. I couldn't even talk to him. Just told him to call Uncle Chad to tell him where he was.
He had no idea of how freaked out I had been... he had just gone to dinner at my cousin's house. He does that every Wednesday night. I knew that, and Uncle Chad remembered it right after we had hung up and called back to tell me, I just didn't get his message.
He must have walked out the door right before I started calling, and his cell phone only rang the one time... the time that he answered.
It was silly.
I should have taken a moment, taken a deep breath and thought about it. But in that moment.. there was no thinking rationally. I could only think about how terrified I am now of losing my Dad.
My whole life he's been preparing me for his early departure. But he's got to get over that now. He's the only parent I have left, and I need him around for a lot longer.
And I need him to get better service on his cell phone.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Sealed with Love
They started arriving one day last week, the day I attended the funeral of my friend's father to be precise.
Envelopes from all over the country... each with a number on them.
"Save the envelopes!" they said.
Number 5 came first,
Then 7 and 9...
Number 4 was a few days later.
They weren't in any "order"
They just arrived, each one with a note with just one phrase inside. It took a day or two... but I started to understand a little about what was happening, and I once again started to look forward to getting the mail.
Once they were all here... and rearranged...these 11 envelopes....and then one beautiful picture frame... their message was easy to read if you could see through the tears.
Meeting them was just a random thing... but without that "randomness" that wasn't so random to God... I've been able to survive the last few days, weeks, months, and years...
Envelopes from all over the country... each with a number on them.
"Save the envelopes!" they said.
Number 5 came first,
Then 7 and 9...
Number 4 was a few days later.
They weren't in any "order"
They just arrived, each one with a note with just one phrase inside. It took a day or two... but I started to understand a little about what was happening, and I once again started to look forward to getting the mail.
Once they were all here... and rearranged...these 11 envelopes....and then one beautiful picture frame... their message was easy to read if you could see through the tears.
- A mother's love is something that no one can explain
- It is made of deep devotion, and of sacrifice and pain
- It is endless and unselfish and enduring come what may
- For nothing can destroy it or take that love away...
- It is patient and forgiving when all others are forsaking
- And it never fails or falters even though the heart is breaking....
- It believes beyond believing when the world around condemns
- And it glows with all the beauty of the rarest, brightest gems...
- It is far beyond defining, it defies all explanation
- and it still remains a secret like the mysteries of creation...
- A many splendoured miracle man cannot understand
- And another wondrous evidence of God's tender guiding hand.
Meeting them was just a random thing... but without that "randomness" that wasn't so random to God... I've been able to survive the last few days, weeks, months, and years...
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