Miracles Do Happen

I try to only blog about the positive things in life.  There is enough drama and sorrow everywhere else.  We are about to embark on a miracle journey and that is the biggest positive in my life so far, so it deserves time here.  After spending the last 2 years fighting kidney disease, quietly and while not complaining, Joe is about to be cured.  He will receive a kidney from his child, completing a cycle of life that few will ever experience.  How many children can give life to their parents?  Isn't that usually the other way around?

Once they knew that he needed a kidney, the reaction was swift.  So many, including friends were willing, but only one would be chosen....and I truly believe God has His plan.  It was truly in His hands.   We will never forget the love extended by offers of those who for one reason or another, could not be  chosen.  When you offer to give up a part of your body, you are showing true love.

Joe does not complain as he goes through endless testing, medications and surgeries.  He goes to work each day, regardless of exhaustion.  He has shown exactly what he is made of.  Determination, the need to take care of his family, humility and the list goes on.  He is just plain tough.

Our reward will come when, as U of M promises, he will feel healthier by the hour after surgery, returning to a state of health and life to go on for many years as husband, father and Papa.  God knew how much we needed him and He will take us through this.  There is going to be one big celebration party coming!

Travel-Phobia

Every time I hear people rave about exotic vacations, cross country road trips or dream of a retirement filled with travel, I shudder, thinking how I would much rather bloom where I am planted.  As the saying goes, "different strokes for different folks" because some will always yearn to see what they have not seen and I will always wonder why they are so anxious to give up the comforts of home.

My favorite chair is always waiting to cuddle me, my coffee pot produces a consistent quality that cannot be duplicated and thoughts of airports make me cringe. Long car trips make my joints beg for relief, so transportation to the lands I have not seen is a major hurdle.  Anyway, hotels rarely have a comfortable chair and it is just too much work to find a snack at 2am when you don't have the candy stash in the drawer waiting.  Among the comforts of home, my best buddies Rocky and Josie cuddle beside me most of the time and I am sure they agree that our morning snuggle time is the absolute best.  With one Chihuahua on each side of me, even the coldest winter mornings feels warm.   I have actually come to the point in life where I really missed my dogs every day of my last vacation.  It takes a lot these days to convince me to leave home for longer than an afternoon.

This morning I thought about the fact that I am getting ready to drive 1224 miles this week to attend a 2 hour school event.     However, when a little boy has stolen your heart, you will drive to the ends of the earth, regardless of "travel-phobia".

This adorable little boy reached out and stole my heart on the morning he was born.  I remember the tears of joy running down my face as I held him, bonding instantly to the warm little bundle in my arms.  I had already learned that grandchildren are God's surprise gifts.  You assume nothing can equal the love of your own child, until you hold that first grandchild.  Tate was number 6 and I knew from experience what a gift he would become.

I have been called Junkfood Grandma and I had to learn that Tate preferred broccoli to my never ending stash of candy.  I could however make him smile with waffles and "Grammy Syrup".   He preferred a good game of cards to the latest video game and was delighted with a blank notebook and a pencil.  I watched him make lists in his notebooks and had more fun than he did when I found a new notebook to give him.

His sense of humor can send him and you into fits of giggles when you least expect it and the twinkle in his eye comes through in every photo.  The best part of being Tate's Grandma is the moment when he runs through the door yelling "Grammy!!!!"

 Although Hallmark has invented every kind of holiday, the teacher who thought of Grandparents Day deserves a hug.    I have been honored to attend these events for 2 other grandchildren and those afternoons  absolutely beat seeing the Grand Canyon or Buckingham Palace.   There is nothing better than the face of your special little one as he shows off his artwork or sings a song he has practiced just for you.

 So, my bags are packed and I am just waiting to open the car door and hear...."Grammy!!!"

In My Dreams

It is truly Spring when I think about freshly turned earth, ready for neat little rows of eggplant, zucchini, green pepper and tomato plants.  Every year about this time, I envision my perfect little garden.  Then I wake up and remember that I absolutely cannot turn that earth, much less rake it out.  I really like to fantasize and dream of beautiful raised beds, built in tiers and adding to the landscape of my perfect yard.  Some days I wonder if I bought a book and learned how it is done, if I could actually do it.

There is magic in picking that perfect vegetable and eating it within the hour and although I have had the garden and eaten the perfect tomato,  it did not look like something that graced the cover of a gardening magazine.    The day we were closing on our mortgage, I glanced at the deed and realized the land had once been part of Eaton Rapids famous Miller's Dairy farm.   Thanks to years of cows depositing their manure in my yard and you can literally throw a seed out the back door and watch it grow.

The down side to this is that I have 1/4 acre of constant growth.  The hedges that frame our property are so high that it might take a bucket truck to trim them this year.    Flower beds quickly fill with weeds that should be part of a science fiction movie.  Rose bushes seem to grow overnight until pruning could be done almost daily.  I look at the bush outside the door and remember scattering the petals down the aisle for Cat's wedding.  They are beautiful, but whatever is planted will quickly demand my attention daily.

Since no one in this house feels the urge to commune with nature, I have 2 choices.  I can continue to dream or find someone in need of a few bucks to turn that earth.  I don't think I will kid myself about building tiered beds either.  Who am I kidding?  Turning on the saw would be dangerous for me.  Another day to wish my brother wasn't somewhere across the country.

1000 Attaboys!

As self confessed Dr Phil fan, I think sometimes the man just says something brilliant.  On a regular basis he reminds us that "It takes 1000 Attaboys to equal one time when you tell your child they are a jerk."  For some reason the other day I got to thinking that we spend so much time trying to correct our kids that it must outnumber the times we stop to appreciate them.  I decided to take the day and notice what was good about them.  What an amazing experience!

I quickly realized that lately Andy had begun to really care about the rest of the family.  It showed in the many little things he stopped to do, the smiles and jokes that brightened my day and the consideration for others.  I realized he really did not complain when I asked him to take care of chores any more.   When did that happen and how did I not notice?  Maybe I was too busy correcting something else.

Yes, Catie grumbled and forgot to empty the dishwasher, but she also brought home an award winning report card.  Certainly worthy of praise and so instead of just keeping it between us, I posted it on Facebook so everyone could tell her what a good job she does.  Every comment made me smile.

It's a lot more fun to praise, but I do hope she empties the dishwasher today.

Chapter 2

It has been a year since I last posted here.  I sat yesterday reading back over the postings that began in 2006 and am so grateful for this journal of my life.  A high-tech scrapbook of sorts, complete with photos as life happened in the "Nuthouse".  A lot of it was good times, some of it was not.  Either way, it was life as it happened to me.

In March of 2007 we lost our Karen and I notice that my postings were frequent, as I worked my way through the numbing grief.  When it was too painful to speak, there was always the blog.  Joy or sorrow, celebrations and everyday life fill the pages.  A lover of history, it is mine and I wonder if I should print it and put it in a book for some grandchild to read.  Perhaps one of them will be like their grandmother who would be delighted to find such a record.  Regardless, today I realized that it is not time to end it, but to create another chapter.

 Each year in March we all brace ourselves to face the end of the month, not sure whether to stifle the memories or give in to them and mourn.  This year, I knew it was a time for new beginnings.  

Five years is not a magic number or an official ending point for grief.  Somehow in my heart, I knew I had traveled the road of mourning and that it was time to begin Chapter 2.  I can finally look at pictures of Karen and smile, remembering her laughter.  I am ready to take the boxes of memories and create the Scrapbook of all Scrapbooks.  Every time I tried before, it was just too painful.  Now I want to do it.

 I know now it is time to remember Karen's life, rather than her death.  I caught myself the other day giving Catie a lecture about how she should be more like her Mom and told the story about how she took over running the house when I was ill and she was only 15.   She took care of baby Mike, managed to handle Joey, cleaned the house and actually made me homemade chicken soup and baked fresh bread from scratch.  That was Karen at her best!

 I will always answer the question of "How many children do you have?" by saying 5.  When asked for details, I will tell people that one is in heaven.