Elliot turned one on Saturday. So sad...and happy. I can't believe my baby is a year old! Happy first birthday, big boy!!!
Monday, November 24, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
The Cheese Stands Alone
Last night, Elliot learned a new trick. He now stands on his own! My big boy :) As soon as I can find my camera (what in the world did I do with that thing?!), I'll snap a pic and try to figure out how to upload it on here. Maybe LP can give me some pointers. I probably should "pretty up" my blog, too, at some point. Here's to things that can be put off to a later date! LOL
Sunshine!
It never ceases to amaze me what a difference a good night's sleep can make. I've been so "blue" lately...holidays, milestones, missing my best friend, going through old photos and reminiscing (and feeling cheated out of time with my Dad). It's been a very rough month or so. Last night, though, I fell to pieces crying when DH asked me about our plans for dinner. All of the sudden, I realized I hadn't planned anything, and I felt like such a failure. I mean, we've been trying to save money to work on the house so we can sell it, and I couldn't even remember to make dinner? Nevermind the fact that I was dealing with a sick child all day long! Fortunately, my DH saw the situation for what it truly was...exhaustion and the blues and gave me the night "off". I went upstairs by myself and watched my show (Dancing With the Stars...poor Brooke had a bad first dance, and I was so upset for her. She rebounded, though, and I voted for her! I hope to see her next week in the finals!). I got to go to sleep early and slept all night. I woke up this morning to sunshine outside and sunshine in my heart. Today is definitely a good day (though I am still looking forward to nap time this afternoon! LOL). My son is back at school...was just a 24 hour thing. The little princess has ballet this afternoon, and at some point, I have GOT to go to the commissary. I'm kinda out of a few things...like toilet paper...deodorant...milk...juice. Nothing major, LOL. Guess I'd better go put my list together! :)
Monday, November 17, 2008
A Tree, a Holiday, a Milestone, a Memory
I put my Christmas tree up this weekend. It looks beautiful...one of my secret pleasures of the holidays. I love to sit and look at it in the evenings when the kids are in bed and the house is quiet. I have so many favorite ornaments on there. Picking one as my most favorite would be impossible. I'll upload a pic as soon as I can find my camera!
Christmas has always been a love/hate holiday for me, and this year is no different. Most of my memories of my Dad are centered around Christmas morning, so while I love the excitement of my own kids, the little girl in my heart is saddened at the loss of her own childhood Christmases. This will be our last Christmas in Norfolk...our last in the continental US. We'll go up to NJ for Christmas morning again this year, and it will be wonderful to be surrounded by family. Unfortunately, I'm already depressed about next year. We'll be all alone on an island. No family to share dinner with. On top of that, we may be getting ready to say goodbye to Daddy for a year. There's a 50/50 chance that my husband will have to go to Afghanistan for a year beginning in January 2010. We would have only been on Oahu for about 6 months.
Another love/hate moment is coming up this Saturday. My baby will turn one year old on Saturday. He's my last one, so this is an extremely bittersweet milestone for me. I'm not ready for him to grow up, and I find myself feeling like I blinked and his first year is over!
I'm really looking forward to Dancing With the Stars tonight. It's my "guilty pleasure" this season. I've even been known to put the kids to bed early just so I can watch, uninterrupted! Does that make me a bad Mommy??? LOL
I guess maybe I'm so melancholy and reflective since I didn't get any sleep last night. EJ is sick and was up all night, so I'm pretty tired. The kids are down for naps, so I think I might get a shower, put in a load of laundry or two and lay down for a few minutes. This afternoon, I'm cleaning the carpets (thank you, EJ! LOL).
Christmas has always been a love/hate holiday for me, and this year is no different. Most of my memories of my Dad are centered around Christmas morning, so while I love the excitement of my own kids, the little girl in my heart is saddened at the loss of her own childhood Christmases. This will be our last Christmas in Norfolk...our last in the continental US. We'll go up to NJ for Christmas morning again this year, and it will be wonderful to be surrounded by family. Unfortunately, I'm already depressed about next year. We'll be all alone on an island. No family to share dinner with. On top of that, we may be getting ready to say goodbye to Daddy for a year. There's a 50/50 chance that my husband will have to go to Afghanistan for a year beginning in January 2010. We would have only been on Oahu for about 6 months.
Another love/hate moment is coming up this Saturday. My baby will turn one year old on Saturday. He's my last one, so this is an extremely bittersweet milestone for me. I'm not ready for him to grow up, and I find myself feeling like I blinked and his first year is over!
I'm really looking forward to Dancing With the Stars tonight. It's my "guilty pleasure" this season. I've even been known to put the kids to bed early just so I can watch, uninterrupted! Does that make me a bad Mommy??? LOL
I guess maybe I'm so melancholy and reflective since I didn't get any sleep last night. EJ is sick and was up all night, so I'm pretty tired. The kids are down for naps, so I think I might get a shower, put in a load of laundry or two and lay down for a few minutes. This afternoon, I'm cleaning the carpets (thank you, EJ! LOL).
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Grandfathers, Fathers, Funerals and Questions
So, I'm finally getting to this. It's been a rough couple of weeks for my heart. My grandparents on my Dad's side have always been extremely close to my family. I used to spend every Friday night sleeping over their house until I was probably in middle school. My Grandmom took me shopping every Christmas season for my parents and siblings. They spent every Christmas morning at our house while we opened presents. My Grandmom made many of my pretty dresses...and always made a Christmas and Easter dress. One year, she even made me a white fur coat...I felt like a princess, which has always been her nickname for me, "Princess". My PopPop was a man of few words...my Grandmom a woman of MANY. That man, however, had the best sense of humor. She'd be telling a story for the umpteenth time, and he'd just stand behind her, flashing his fingers over and over (this is how many times we've heard this story now...). She is also very strong-minded, which he responded to by putting one index finger on either side of his temples like horns....his way of saying she's stubborn as a mule! Quiet and unassuming...a WWII veteran who fought in Germany in the Battle of the Bulge...my grandfather was a man of many stories. When his unit marched into one town in Germany, they cut down a large fabric banner that had been stretched across a street. Red fabric framed a large white and black swastika. My PopPop cut the white part out and gave the red fabric to a young child that was nearby so his mother could make him some clothing. The white and black swastika was used as a "signing" item...all the members of his unit wrote their names and hometowns on the back. His pride at recounting that information was palpable. He had countless war items...a breakfast ration still in the box, the top of a German bayonnet, shrapnel, German medals...fascinating items.
After my Dad died (their oldest child...their firstborn son) when I was 13, my grandfather overcame his own personal devastating grief to be the "man" for my family also. He was our installer of garage door openers, our bat killer, dead mouse remover, lawn maintainer, home maintenance man...Mr. Fix-It. He gave of himself so selflessly to my mother, a grieving widow, and her three children. He was always there whenever you needed him.
About mid-September, my grandfather hurt his back while working on the house. The doctors did a CAT scan, which showed a shadow on the liver and some fluid in his abdomen but was otherwise "clean". The drs wanted to siphon off the fluid, but when they went to do the procedure, there was no fluid. They assumed his body had reabsorbed it. He never fully recovered from his pain but seemed to be stable. Then on Columbus Day weekend, he took a turn for the worse. He was in so much pain...could not sleep...could not get comfortable...could not eat...could not void. He had my grandmother call an ambulance that Sunday morning. The drs in the ER ordered a CAT scan which showed that he was "full of cancerous lesions". In a month. Seriously. The dr basically told him that he was too weak to endure cancer treatments, so they weren't sure what to do for him. They did siphon 3 liters of fluid out of his abdomen, which gave him some relief. 3 liters? That's a lot of fluid. That Thursday, he was sent home from the hospital with an order for Hospice. I packed the two younger kids up in the car, and up to New Jersey we drove. I prayed the whole time that he would just survive until I got there. He did. I was there when the Hospice nurse came for the first time...a wondeful lady. She said that he was already showing the physical signs of the body shutting down. He had discoloration on his feet and extreme shortness of breath whenever he moved. He was so thin and gaunt. It was heartbreaking. In and out of consciousness, he was irritable and very childlike. We did have a great visit, though, and when we were leaving on Sunday to come back to VA, he was very alert and acted like the PopPop I remember. However, when I kissed him, he grabbed my hand and gave me "the look"...the one that says goodbye without ever having to say a word. I knew it would be the last time I saw him. That Wednesday, October 22, he died around 10 am, with my grandmother and the Hospice nurse by his side. It was peaceful and quiet...just like he would have wanted.
Evan, the kids and I went up that Friday to spend some time with the family. The viewing was Tuesday night. The funeral home did a great job...he looked really good. It was hard, though, answering my 6 year old's questions in the midst of my own battle with grief. He wanted to know..."Is he gonna move?" "Where did the box come from?" (the coffin) "Who put him in the box?" "HOW did they put him in the box?" The kids were there for about 20 minutes, and then Evan took them back to my Mom's house. The viewing was crowded...my grandparents have always been pillars in the community...and it was very moving. The American Legion performed a small ceremony, and the fire company, which my grandparents have both been involved with for many years, performed a ceremony. The funeral was Tuesday morning. During the ceremony, the pastor asked if there was anyone who wanted to share a memory of my grandfather. The memories shared were priceless to me...funny and poignant. After the ceremony, his casket was loaded into the hearse (he was to be cremated). EJ had a ton more questions..."Why are they putting him in a limousine?" "Why are they leaving him out there?" "He's all alone!" Thank God Evan was there to answer many of those questions. The ladies of their church had prepared a very nice luncheon for the family and friends. As we were eating, I happened to look up and out the window. It was snowing! In October! I told my very excited kids that Poppy (what they called him) had sent them snow from Heaven as a very special gift for them. They were ecstatic and were outside within minutes. :)
This was a very different death situation for me than with my Dad. He was gone so quickly and was not even in the country, so his death was traumatic on so many levels. A phone call, and *poof*, it's over. There's so much more to that story, but that's for another blog. This time, however, I got to experience the ability to say goodbye. It's been so very sad for me, since part of me feels like I'm losing my Dad all over again...one more link to his memory has been severed. I take great comfort, however, in the knowledge that my grandfather was a strong, Bible believing Christian who was READY to meet God. I'd like to think that he and my Dad are up there having a joyful reunion as they await our arrival to join them one day. My heart breaks, even now, as I mourn the loss of someone I love so dearly.
After my Dad died (their oldest child...their firstborn son) when I was 13, my grandfather overcame his own personal devastating grief to be the "man" for my family also. He was our installer of garage door openers, our bat killer, dead mouse remover, lawn maintainer, home maintenance man...Mr. Fix-It. He gave of himself so selflessly to my mother, a grieving widow, and her three children. He was always there whenever you needed him.
About mid-September, my grandfather hurt his back while working on the house. The doctors did a CAT scan, which showed a shadow on the liver and some fluid in his abdomen but was otherwise "clean". The drs wanted to siphon off the fluid, but when they went to do the procedure, there was no fluid. They assumed his body had reabsorbed it. He never fully recovered from his pain but seemed to be stable. Then on Columbus Day weekend, he took a turn for the worse. He was in so much pain...could not sleep...could not get comfortable...could not eat...could not void. He had my grandmother call an ambulance that Sunday morning. The drs in the ER ordered a CAT scan which showed that he was "full of cancerous lesions". In a month. Seriously. The dr basically told him that he was too weak to endure cancer treatments, so they weren't sure what to do for him. They did siphon 3 liters of fluid out of his abdomen, which gave him some relief. 3 liters? That's a lot of fluid. That Thursday, he was sent home from the hospital with an order for Hospice. I packed the two younger kids up in the car, and up to New Jersey we drove. I prayed the whole time that he would just survive until I got there. He did. I was there when the Hospice nurse came for the first time...a wondeful lady. She said that he was already showing the physical signs of the body shutting down. He had discoloration on his feet and extreme shortness of breath whenever he moved. He was so thin and gaunt. It was heartbreaking. In and out of consciousness, he was irritable and very childlike. We did have a great visit, though, and when we were leaving on Sunday to come back to VA, he was very alert and acted like the PopPop I remember. However, when I kissed him, he grabbed my hand and gave me "the look"...the one that says goodbye without ever having to say a word. I knew it would be the last time I saw him. That Wednesday, October 22, he died around 10 am, with my grandmother and the Hospice nurse by his side. It was peaceful and quiet...just like he would have wanted.
Evan, the kids and I went up that Friday to spend some time with the family. The viewing was Tuesday night. The funeral home did a great job...he looked really good. It was hard, though, answering my 6 year old's questions in the midst of my own battle with grief. He wanted to know..."Is he gonna move?" "Where did the box come from?" (the coffin) "Who put him in the box?" "HOW did they put him in the box?" The kids were there for about 20 minutes, and then Evan took them back to my Mom's house. The viewing was crowded...my grandparents have always been pillars in the community...and it was very moving. The American Legion performed a small ceremony, and the fire company, which my grandparents have both been involved with for many years, performed a ceremony. The funeral was Tuesday morning. During the ceremony, the pastor asked if there was anyone who wanted to share a memory of my grandfather. The memories shared were priceless to me...funny and poignant. After the ceremony, his casket was loaded into the hearse (he was to be cremated). EJ had a ton more questions..."Why are they putting him in a limousine?" "Why are they leaving him out there?" "He's all alone!" Thank God Evan was there to answer many of those questions. The ladies of their church had prepared a very nice luncheon for the family and friends. As we were eating, I happened to look up and out the window. It was snowing! In October! I told my very excited kids that Poppy (what they called him) had sent them snow from Heaven as a very special gift for them. They were ecstatic and were outside within minutes. :)
This was a very different death situation for me than with my Dad. He was gone so quickly and was not even in the country, so his death was traumatic on so many levels. A phone call, and *poof*, it's over. There's so much more to that story, but that's for another blog. This time, however, I got to experience the ability to say goodbye. It's been so very sad for me, since part of me feels like I'm losing my Dad all over again...one more link to his memory has been severed. I take great comfort, however, in the knowledge that my grandfather was a strong, Bible believing Christian who was READY to meet God. I'd like to think that he and my Dad are up there having a joyful reunion as they await our arrival to join them one day. My heart breaks, even now, as I mourn the loss of someone I love so dearly.
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