Grandma

Today marks one year since my Grandma  passed away.  I can't tell you how often over the last year I have laughed over something the kids did and thought of calling her or sending her some pictures.  Going home and not stopping in to visit her several times leaves a palpable gap in our days.

And yet, I know the last two months of her life were painful and that going home to God and to her beloved husband was a well earned release for her.  We'll all be together soon and forever; the time apart is insignificant in the grand scheme.


I've been meaning to do a tribute post of some of my favorite memories or pictures of her.  I am still not sure I'm able to do it any kind of justice.  Most likely I'll miss and offend more than honor.  This is my nonsense, but here's a start.

First of all, let's all just agree that my great-grandparents, Harley and Minnie, were a dashing couple.  Yes, Great-Grandpa's ears are the stuff of legend and re-appear in each generation, but that's my family.  We do ears and noses with gusto.

They were married around 1908 (as noted on this picture) and had two daughters; Grandma was born in 1925.

I know precious little about her childhood.  I always wanted to ask, but somehow it felt like "quick, tell me stuff before you die!" and so I never did.  And now I can't.  Go talk to your family and document stories.  Go.

I do know she lived in St Marys, the next town over from my hometown of Celina.  Our high school sports teams are rivals and we have a lot of good-natured trash talk between the towns, and I gather it was pretty well established even then.  In fact, there's a legend in our hometown that the local man-made lake's naming rights came down to a gambling game between two men from our respective hometowns.  The man from St Marys won the rights and named it "Grand Lake St Marys", even though Celina makes up the majority of the coastline.  To this day, most Celina people refer to it as simply "Grand Lake" while most St Marys people use the full name.  This is the stubborn blood of my people.  Grandma ended up living in Celina for the last 25 years and 8 of her 10 grandchildren went to Celina schools, but she still seemed to prefer my brother-in-law who graduated from her alma mater of St Marys.  Loyalties.

Grandma did tell me stories of going ice skating with various groups of friends in the winters, riding around and goofing off, being a good student, and "sparking" which elicited a lot of laughter from my grandpa.  She positively lit up when she talked with or about him.

Grandma, around age 7

Around age 19

They met young and married fast. She was just over 22; he was just home from the war after his time in the army.  They met at a roller-rink-turned-dance-hall-at-night in Celina where Grandpa swept the floors of sawdust and caught Grandma's eye.  Within weeks they were engaged and she liked to joke about how they didn't have their first child for nearly 15 months which nicely shushed up a whole lot of noisy relatives.

Wedding: July 19, 1947

Aren't they adorable?  And if you know my dad or brothers at all, you'd swear that was one of them standing in that snazzy suit and striped tie.  I told you we do noses and ears with gusto and all sides of the family are strongly contributing.  Doesn't grandma have great shoes?  She had recently graduated from Dr. Browns School for Technicians in Columbus, Ohio and worked as an x-ray tech; grandpa had driven a truck in the war--specifically he often drove an ambulance.  I wonder if some early conversations involved their shared experience in medical settings; neither spoke much of it later.

Grandma worked at the hospital in town and Grandpa worked late at his job.  They lived in the 3rd floor apartment above a 5-and-dime on Main street and on hot nights she would sit out on the fire escape and watch for him to come home.  Some nights he would show up with ice cream cones and they'd sit outside enjoying the fresh air while the apartment cooled off.  By the time they had kids they had moved to a house in another small farm town ten minutes south.

1958

1978

These two.  I'm sure they had their rough days.  They certainly had their share of difficult times with job changes and losses, four children, moves, and illnesses.  Grandma had breast cancer early on (1960's) and beat it.  They had three boys and a girl who still seem to delight in being as ornery as possible as often as possible.  This is also a family trait.

1968: Dad graduation

1968: Dad at boot camp

1988: Dad and Grandma goofing around

My dad and grandma had a special relationship.  My dad would tease her endlessly and they would both laugh.  To all the world they would sound like they were fighting when they were both smiling at each crack.  She would sigh and shake her head and say "Oh, Tim." in a way that was just bursting with love and pride while trying her hardest to sound frustrated.  They were good friends and truly enjoyed each other's company.  They could drive each other nuts, but that was the beauty of it all.  I think my dad reminded her a lot of her husband: contrary, loyal, handy, and always quick with a witty come-back.  Dad and Grandpa were very close, too, and we visited them every weekend even when they lived an hour away.  They moved to our hometown area in 1985 and we visited weekly but also stopped in throughout the week.  Dad and Grandma supported each other through Grandpa's illness and death and maintained that close friendship for the next fifteen years.

1974, first grandson Aaron

Those four children eventually gave them ten grandchildren who have (so far) added nine great-grandchildren.  Grandma saved her biggest smiles for children.  She loved all of the grandkids so much it was sort of ridiculous. We'd quietly compete to be her favorite but at each visit she'd spend most of the time bragging on and on about what our cousins or siblings or nieces and nephews were doing.  She kept stacks of photos within arms reach and was quick to pass them out to anyone who dared to ask about anything that provided an opening to brag on her babies.

2005 with Katie, her first great-grandchild

At her funeral, I was talking with my aunt who commented that at the hospital she had been wearing a bracelet that was given to her by one of her grandkids and that she really cherished it.  I noted in return that while it was a really lovely bracelet and no doubt she did cherish it, Grandma was also just the type that was profoundly thankful for small things and any token of love.  It wouldn't surprise me in the least to have her equally cherishing a worn out sock left by a grandson or a dirty paper towel if it was presented as a gift.  She had home-made ornaments on her Christmas tree that were fifty years old, made by her own kindergarten aged children hanging next to heavy salt-dough ornaments made by my children.  A collection of stuffed animals with a collection of stories sat on a rocking chair in her bedroom.  A simple fleece blanket I made for her a decade ago sat on her couch.  Each time we'd visit, she tell me how much she appreciated it.  It sits on my couch now and each day reminds me of her. Katie curled up under it today.

My grandparents did not have much.  They lived very simply and enjoyed their life just as it was.  They never seemed to be caught up in the desperate race to have just a bit more to match those around them.  They worked hard, for sure, but they lived within their means and made do; they appreciated everything and took care of what they had so it would last.  This is also a family trait; if we remember to use it.

My First Communion; 1985

My senior year 4H project dress; 1994

Our Wedding; 2000

Grandma rarely missed a chance to be with the family, especially if it was something for the kids.  As we sorted through images for her slideshow and photo boards we found pictures of her holding each of us at our baptisms, standing with us at First Communions, hugging us at high school graduations, and for a lucky few of us, beaming with pride at our weddings.  In her later years she suffered from a lot of physical pain and was less able to get around but would still make a huge effort to participate in our lives.  Knowing she wasn't able to get to us, though, we all rallied to be with her and made it a habit to call or visit often.  She was the great keeper of all secrets.  Everyone confided in her.  And we knew they did because she then told everyone else!  But she always kept the heart of the confidences private and would not hesitate to give her opinion on the matter in a frank but loving way to you or anyone else.  She leaked important information in gentle ways to those that needed to hear things, and squashed any poor choices with a single look.

2010: with Katie, August, and Jorge

She was dear to everyone that knew her and in a small town that's pretty much everyone.  The last time we saw her was over our Christmas visit in 2010.  We were in and out of her house several times that visit and stopped by on our way out of town the last day of our trip.  As we sat and chatted for an hour or so, we talked about cousins, nieces, nephews, her step-grandkids and great-grandkids, the weather, the holidays, the kids, their school, August (who was a chunk of cuteness at 4.5 months old), babies, and life in general.  As we were winding down the visit, a knock on the door brought in two old family friends: Ted and Ken.  They were brothers who had lived down the street as boys and were friends of my dad's.  Ted had been Grandma's mailman for a decade or more and it was a family habit to put "Hi Ted!" on the envelope when sending Grandma a card.  When Grandpa died and she became less mobile, he switched his routine to deliver the mail directly to her door rather than the community mailbox area and always stopped to say hello and see how she was doing.  The brothers had stopped by that afternoon just to wish her a merry Christmas and visit a little.  We all talked for a bit and then Rob and I bundled up the kids and said good bye in a round of hugs and kisses and Merry Christmas-es; leaving her with her next wave of guests and chances to brag on her babies and ask about theirs.

This is how I most remember her.  Always sharing stories and pictures, laughing, chiding, and absolutely loved by everyone who knew her.  Thrilled to get a simple box of chocolate covered cherries even though she shouldn't eat them.  Fondly reminding someone that the simple token of love from a decade or from five decades ago was still much loved.  She never forgot a kind deed or a gesture and appreciated each gift, each visit, and each person as the treasure they were.  With any luck, that's a family trait, too.

The shirt lies

August insisted on helping me make a loaf of bread today. As I was fetching some ingredients he dug out several handfuls of flour and packed them into his mouth. He immediately started choking, chugged some water, and then went back for more.

Glasses are in!

Science-nerd adorableness

How is it that he looks just like Rob?

Watch out, world.  He can see you coming, now.

Sleeeeeep!!!!1! SLEEEP!!!

August has slept through the night every night for about a week.

Stop and appreciate that.  Sleeping through the night, even one night, for the first time in 18.5 months, is news worthy.  But to then just make that the routine, like "oh, yea, so I guess I'll just do this now," is nothing short of astounding.  World (or at least our world) changing.  He goes to bed around 7:30 and wakes up at 6 at which point he comes in our room to avoid having him wake up Jorge.  He cuddles or sleeps or plays in our bed until 7 when we all get up.  Meanwhile, Rob and I go to bed around 10 and sleep until 6 and have noticed a serious improvement in the world. People are suddenly less annoying.  Fewer people seem to be deserving of a kick in the face.  It's a good thing.

The shift is unlikely to be related to my dietary changes.  He nurses about once a day, sometimes we skip a day, so my diet is a very small part of his diet.  And he is still eating anything and everything but mostly crackers and bread slathered in peanut butter (as he says, "Buh-Buh").  More likely, the shift in sleep is due mostly to timing and him growing and partially due to a little trick I remembered after re-reading about it in Bringing up Bebe.  Basically, the idea that if a baby (i.e. not a newborn) cries you always go to them BUT only after you've given them a minute or two to see if they're just a bit gassy or searching for their binkie.  It's something we knew, something we did with Katie, but something we've not done with August for fear his fussing would wake Jorge.  We had stopped all night feedings so when he did wake up it was just for a hug or cuddle or transfer to our bed.  About a week ago I'd had enough of it and decided that a few nights of poor sleep for Jorge during the school's winter break would have to happen.

The first night he woke up as usual around midnight and we let him work it out for about 2 minutes at which point he fell back asleep.  An hour later he fussed for 3-4 minutes at which point I went to him, gave him a hug, and settled him back into the crib.  About 30 minutes later we repeated.  Again 15 minutes later.  When he woke up again 15 minutes later I brought him to our bed where he slept soundly until about 6:30.

The second night he made a little noise at midnight but hardly even worth calling a fuss.  Around 3 I went to him after a few minutes of noise and settled him back in the crib.  Around 4:30 he fussed repeatedly until he came to our bed.

But by the 4th or 5th night he was waking up only once or twice and putting himself back down within a minute.  By the end of the winter break he was sleeping uninterrupted.  Heavenly.  And without the 20+ minute screaming associated with "sleep training".  Bliss.

Friday Gluten Update

I don't want to dwell on this endlessly because really, going gluten-free has been almost effortless.  The only thing that even registered as a slight disappointment is that I can't eat any of those Girl Scout cookies that came in last week.  But d'ya know what I can eat?  A banana chopped up and stirred with some peanut butter and a little Hershey syrup.  Or ice cream.  Or a bowl of peanut butter melted with some chocolate chips and stirred into some rice Chex, making an amazing Nutty Buddy melty mess of awesome.  So, trust me, I'm fine.

Also, Snickers are gluten free.  I checked.

But by not eating a few things I feel amazing.  So amazing.  I feel healthy and strong.  My skin is currently clear.  Clear!  Clear!  For the first time in, um, ever?  Ok, I do have a tiny tiny blister-y thing at my hairline because I got a little cocky and didn't even bother to wash my face for a few days.  Turns out "not prone" and "immune" aren't exactly the same thing.  Whatever, I'll take it!

I did have a serious yuck attack Monday around noon and I'm not sure why.  I have a few suspicions but I don't know how long of a delay to expect between an error in eating and a bad reaction.  It seemed to always be pretty quick -- maybe an hour or two at most-- but my only suspicions were from 4-24 hours earlier. But in general, I feel great.

And since I feel so much better and not like I may need to curl up and be ill at any moment, I've had the energy and confidence to hit the treadmill three times this week.  Three!  (my, oh my, so many exclamation points in this post.)  I've lost 2 pounds in the last 2 weeks just because I'm slightly paying attention to what I eat and not grazing on cookies and cupcakes leftover at various meetings at school.  Instead I pack a lunch of two oranges, a banana, a salad, some rice, a bag of corn and rice based crunchy things (cereal mostly), some yogurt and coconut--whatever I can find laying around the house, basically.  I could dance, I feel so good.  I do dance.  On the treadmill.  I'm grooving as I'm walking, waving my arms around and doing my little geek-girl-swing.  I just finished the first week of the couch-to-5K running program which has been on my mp3 player since August.  I had not yet managed more than one training session of running consecutively in a given week to advance to week 2 (and had only made about 3 attempts at it in the last 7 months anyhow).

To be clear: I'm not anti-gluten.  If your body can handle it, by all means enjoy your pasta and bread and granola and barley.  Take my share of the cookies.  Eat that breaded fish.  Evidence is pretty strong that my intestines can't handle it.  They get ravaged by it, send my body into a state of inflammation, and generally wreck me.  I'll pass.

I'm happy.  I feel good.  I feel confident in how I look which is nice but not the main point. Better, I feel confident in my body not to break down on me at seemingly random times, and I feel clear-headed and in control for the first time in ages.

Still blurry

Jorge's glasses were supposed to be in "in 7 to 10 days" which would be Wednesday through Friday.  So far no word.  Trust me, I'm just as anxious to see these specs on that little face as anyone.  Only today did I think to be disappointed that Rob didn't take a picture with his phone while at the optometrist's* office picking them out last week.  I can't blame him, he only just upgraded to a camera-enabled phone recently and neither of us are very good at remembering to bring our cell phones with us most of the time. Odds are good he didn't even have it, much less think to use it.  But I haven't seen the glasses and can only rely on the description from the boys: green, half-frames (i.e. lower part of lenses appear to be just glass).  And according to Jorge they are simultaneously pretty cool and the most horrible thing ever.

Hopefully we hear something tomorrow because the office is closed all weekend and none of us want to wait until Monday.  Except Jorge.   He thinks.

*(Number of tries to spell that: 3)

Glasses

I mentioned Jorge's terrible vision a few weeks ago but forgot to follow up.  He had his vision exam last week and, no surprise, his vision is lousy.  So bad, in fact, that the doctor is hesitant to move him straight to his full corrective prescription for fear the huge adjustment will give him headaches, dizziness, and general discomfort.  His new glasses should be ready by mid to late this week and will have lenses about halfway to his necessary prescription.  Once he adjusts to these we'll move to the full prescription later this spring.

I had planned to get 2-3 pair of glasses (they're around $40 each) so he could keep a pair at school and/or home and have a backup in case his usual pair were lost or damaged.  We'll have a protective plan on them, but it may take a week or more to get them fixed if something happens so ideally we'd have a back-up pair (or two).  My mom also pointed out that Jorge is very sensitive to bright light and demands sunglasses all summer long so we'll need to either get some prescription sunglasses or at least some clip-on sunglass lenses to fit his glasses.  However, I'm hesitant to buy any back-up glasses at his temporary prescription knowing they'll all have to be updated within a few weeks.  On the other hand, if he's going to lose or damage them, it seems most likely to happen (at least most frequently) in the first few weeks.  I don't know how much a lens change costs compared to the glasses, but we need to balance risks and costs here.

Jorge is ambivalent toward the glasses.  He talks somewhat happily about their color and design, but then whines that he doesn't want to have to wear them to school.  I think his main concern is the responsibility that will come with them and fearing that he'll be constantly in trouble for mishandling them.  We've tried to assure him that we know they'll probably get lost or dropped sometimes but we'll also do our best to help him remember to always put them in the same spot at night, put them in safe places during the day if he's playing hard, etc.  We had planned to go see The Secret World of Arrietty  (the book was a childhood favorite of mine and of Katie's), but are now waiting until the glasses come in so Jorge can actually see the screen. Hopefully that will be a nice kickoff of his life as a glasses-wearer.