Waiting...

You are born. You live. You die. And somewhere in there you try to have one hell of a ride. 


My grandma is dying. And I don't mean in a few months sort of way. I mean in a few hours sort of way. My mom and my aunt have been spending the last few weeks with her off and on. We've all known it was coming. It's been down hill with her for the last few months. For some reason that doesn't make the pain of our reality any easier. People say, it's ok, they have lived their lives. I guess you could say that about my grandma. She will be 87 years old on November 4. She married my grandpa when she was young. They had four children, their first they unfortunately they had to say good bye to when he was a baby. From their three remaining children they had seven grandchildren. And from those seven grandchildren they have seven great-grandchildren, with an eighth on the way. So her death won't be one of the tragic ones you hear about on the news and think, wow, that is way too young to die. Her life will kind of fade into the background and after our family has grieved everyone will move on. But that doesn't make the sadness any easier to handle. It doesn't make the pain any less to bear. 


I wouldn't say I was super close to my grandma. I have a lot of memories that involve my grandma, but not a lot of close personal one on one memories with her. I remember spending a lot of time at my grandparent's house. They lived in the same town I did growing up and we spent many weekends there. I have fond memories of playing at the creek down the hill from their house with my cousins. Last time I checked (which was YEARS ago) our "survival fort" that we built some summer afternoon was still there, still withstanding the heavy burden of snow year in and and year out. I remember picking fruit in their giant garden and playing croquet in their beautifully grassed front yard. I remember flipping and being flipped off their rope hammock. My brother, cousins and I have a lot of memories at our grandparents, and those memories will be cherished for ever. Our grandparents gave us that and for that I will be eternally grateful.


I am sad that my kids will grow up never really knowing their great-grandparents. We were able to go see my grandma last month on our vacation. She was able to hold B for a few minutes before she got too tired. In her defense, B is quite the chunk for a two month old. And of course K was being her two year old self and running around like, well like a two year old. We hugged good bye and I told her we would try to see her this winter if we can pull off a winter trip. Some how I know though, even if we could do a trip, that she wouldn't be there this time. 

It's hard to know people you love are suffering. I can't imagine what it must feel like to know you are dying and to WANT to go because you are too damn miserable. My mom texted me a bit ago and said they had a moment where they think they got through to my grandma. She is too weak right now to even communicate. So this was huge. I hope they were able to say good bye.


I'm not sure what this was supposed to accomplish, other than putting it down on paper, sort of. But it feels good to say. So now I will go to bed. And I will wait for the news I know is coming. And then my family will grieve and we will move on. Because that is what you do. You remember, you grieve and you move on.

It's all about us. That's right! I said it!

So I'm new to this whole blog thing. I've always loved to write, but always forget to do it. So what better way to do that than to annoy people with totally boring stories of my life? Thus, my career in blogging begins. I really don't think I have much to say, so most of what I do say will mostly be for me, but if someone, somewhere, decides it's interesting to read, who am I to judge?

A little background on me and my family. I'm currently a stay-at-home mom to my two beautiful (but I'm not biased) children. My girl K is two and a half years old and my son B is just two months old. I always thought one keeps you on your toes, but boy was I wrong! But in reality, I've gotten lucky. B is the easiest baby there ever was. With the exception of last night (let's not go there, k?) he is a fantastic sleeper, usually only waking up once a night. K is your typical two year old, at least I hope so. She was a slow talker but has recently exploded verbally, which is usually a good thing. Unfortunately with that came the knowledge of a few words I wish she had just left out, like "MINE" for example. Whoever invented that word obviously didn't have kids. I married a wonderful man who works crazy hours and endures famously hot temperatures to allow me to raise my kids the way I always wanted to, at home.

My life isn't exciting. It isn't glamor filled. I don't have a major challenge to overcome daily. Some may say my life is boring. Heck, I say my life is boring. But it's my life and I love it and I'm going to write about it. At least my mom will read it (maybe).