Grandma

This morning, I was woken up with a phone call. It was the phone call that I knew was coming, but wasn't looking forward to hearing. At 4:53 this morning, my sweet grandma went to be with her Savior. While I am so glad that she isn't suffering with dementia, I am heartbroken at her passing.  Now that the day is winding down to a close, I am able to open up this box of emotions and sift through my memories of her.

Grandma had the softest pajamas. Every morning that we visited Grandma and Grandpa, my sister and I would race from the neighboring cabin to Grandma and Grandpa's cabin so we could snuggle up to them while they were enjoying their morning cup of coffee.

Grandma loved her coffee. I always think of her whenever I smell Folgers.
 
Really, I think of both of them when I smell Folgers because you really can't think of one without the other. Grandpa and Grandma were married for over 72 years and their commitment to each other has been breathtaking to watch especially in their later years.

I remember the excitement of seeing Grandpa and Grandma walk into my school for Grandparents day.
I remember being allowed to have chocolate milk when we ate at the conference center where they worked and lived.

I remember walking with Grandma to the bookkeeper's office at the conference center and seeing her neat handwriting throughout the account books on her desk.

One of my most treasured memories of Grandma was the day she took me on a surprise day trip to Seaside. My parents and sister were at a youth conference in Portland and my Grandpa was off running errands for the conference center, so it was just me and Grandma. Grandma looked at me and said, "Let's go to the beach today!" This is not typical Grandma behavior. But off we went down Highway 26 towards the coast. We stopped off for lunch at Camp 18, which is a great restaurant that displays old lumber mill equipment. From there we drove on to Seaside, where we enjoyed rambling around through the shops and sampling some saltwater taffy. Saltwater taffy has to be one of my favorite candies because of how much I enjoyed this trip.

I remember the low sound of her voice as I would play beauty shop and comb her hair.

 "Mmm. That feels good! If I were a cat I could just purr."  

She loved to have her hair played with.

I remember the way her eyebrow raised in such a way that you knew that you crossed the line. Usually, that eyebrow raise would be followed by a "Chuck!"  My Grandpa is an ornery man.


My Grandma was so full of wisdom and had a deep faith in Jesus Christ. I wish, I wish I could go back and record some of our conversations that I had with her while I was growing up.

Beniah and his Great Grandma - October 2009

Elijah and his Great Grandma - February 2012

Isaac and his Great Grandma - August 2014

I look forward to the day when I can see her once more.

My 40 Hour Adventure

It had been over two years since I last saw my grandparents. A lot has changed since then (mainly having Isaac). Because my parents were going to be down in LA visiting my grandparents, we decided that Isaac and I should visit so that my grandparents could meet their youngest great grandchild. This past Saturday at 5:30 am, Isaac and I were picked up by my father-in-law and taken to the airport. 

Isaac did fairly well on the flight. He fell asleep while we took off and slept for 45 minutes (until we were at the cruising altitude and the turbulence smoothed out). Then he popped awake and wanted to play!

 Thankfully, we were next to a couple who were grandparents and who thought that every chirp Isaac made was very precious. Isaac was determined to make friends with everybody who glanced his way (and even the bearded man who resolutely ignored him).

My parents met us at the Long Beach airport and drove us to see my Grandma (who was recently admitted to the hospital for intense pain). Isaac was enthralled with his Great Grandma and kept wanting to touch her. He also wanted to help her out with the pain medicine by trying to push the buttons on her IV drip.  Mama was a mean Mama/Granddaughter and would not let him push buttons.

Four Generations.  Interesting note: Isaac is my youngest, I am my Mom's youngest, My mom is my Grandma's youngest, and there ends the youngest trend because she is the oldest of the two sisters.

By this point, we had been up for 5 hours and Isaac could not stay awake any longer and fell asleep in my arms.

 All too soon, we had to leave my Grandma and go check into the motel room, have some lunch, and rest before we visit with my Grandpa at their retirement home.

 

 Coffee - the much needed liquid for the traveling Mama!

The bonus of having my parents staying in the room next to us was having my mom pop over and rock her overly tired grandson to sleep so I could get more rest.

Isaac woke up from his nap before I was ready to leave to visit my Grandpa, so over to my parents' room he went and entertained them with his tv remote holding skills.

Soon we left for to see my Grandpa. Isaac was (of course) the hit of the home. Grandpa (of course) was his ornery self and laid claim to his Great Grandson and told another resident to go away. Ah dementia, what spunk you add to our lives!

Other family members arrived after awhile and snuggled up to Isaac.

It was soon time for us to head back to the motel to eat, bathe, and get put to bed 14 hours after leaving our apartment. 

 

The next morning, we skipped church so that Isaac and I could have a little more time with my Grandparents. Grandma was having a difficult morning understanding where she was at and why. (Oh advanced dementia, what heartache you bring!) Isaac helped to bring her cheer with his chipper little self. Although, I think telling her stories about what Grandpa was doing and how ornery he was behaving helped her a little more than the cute baby did. I guess that's what almost 72 years of marriage will do to you.

 It was very difficult saying goodbye to my Grandma, knowing full well that I might not see her again this side of heaven. For those of you wondering, the doctors have figured out what is causing her intense pain (pulled muscles from a previous fall) and are working with a physical therapist to have her discharged soon.

 

However, it was time for us to leave to visit my Grandpa before we left.

Four generations

 

 Isaac was as impressed with Great Grandpa as Great Grandpa was impressed with him.

 

 Photo Credit: My mom, Beth. She did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself!

Isaac thought that Great Grandpa's bright red bib was so funny!

 Once again, it was time to say goodbye to another Grandparent because we had one more stop before we left for the airport.

Fifty years ago, my Aunt Karen and Uncle Glen were married, so we (and their church family) celebrated their anniversary in style!

My aunt and uncle renewed their vows. 

My Uncle Chuck officiated the ceremony. For your information, Uncle Chuck is as ornery as my Grandpa. Must run in the family or something!

 

 The Lady's Bible study that my aunt attends put on a potluck spread that was delicious! Isaac had his first taste of mango with coconut rice and loved it! He reached over to my plate and grabbed another fistful before I could stop him.

 My aunt had her wedding album displayed and in it was a photo of my grandparents in 1964.

The party was winding to a close and it was time for Isaac and I to head to the airport. We got there a half an hour earlier than I had originally planned, but I figured that it wouldn't be that big of a deal. Once through security however, I found out that our plane was delayed an hour. Yay! Three hours in a tiny airport that has no play area and dirty carpets with a baby!

We survived the wait and the flight home (although there weren't helpful grandparents on this flight). Forty hours after we left for the airport, we were walking into our house.

In the Mail

Grief is a strange being in young children. The boys are continuing to process Great Grandma's passing and randomly come up to me and sigh, "I miss Great Grandma!" One time, I was met with excited flapping arms and the question, "Do you know that you are going to die, Mama?"  Are you excited about this, son?
Grief is a strange being.
This past week, my sweet nephew decided to write his cousins a consolatory letter.

 

"Ther Beniah and Elija and Isaac 

im sorry about your grandma I hope you fel bittr

From Jeshu

So sweet! I am definitely saving this letter.

The Bus is Here!

   A couple of days ago, our car got crunched (as Elijah says). Nobody was hurt, but it does mean that we are a one car family until the car get fixed.

    No biggie for me. We live in a city with a massive bus system. We could travel anywhere our hearts desired for only a buck seventy-five.  Today, our hearts desired to travel to the downtown library to return books and attend the science activities that they provide for preschoolers. I had prepped a backpack of diapers, library books, snacks, and spare change last night, so all I would have to do this morning was get the boys dressed and to the bus stop by 10:25.  The morning ran so smoothly!  Isaac slept through the night (for the first time) so I was awake and had plenty of energy to get the boys and myself breakfast before Isaac was awake. We were all fed, dressed, and out the door with plenty of time to make the bus.

     Once there, we were met by a sweet lady who told me that she had some hats for my boys and proceeded to plop them on their heads as I tried to figure out how to diplomatically tell her that we can afford to buy our children hats if they need them.  The boys were so thrilled with their new hats that I just smiled and said, "Thank you!" as she walked away with a contented smile on her face. (The hats were new, but they are still going in the wash today!)

    Soon the bus came down the road and stopped to pick us up.  With Isaac strapped to me in the Bjorn, I helped the boys up and hauled our massive stroller onto the fairly empty bus. Beniah and Elijah meandered their way down to the very back of the bus to pick a seat while I paid for my fare. Of course they picked the very last row of seats to sit in, so I hauled the huge stroller all the way down the aisle and sat next to my very excited boys who chattered the whole way to our stop.
   Getting off the bus wasn't to bad. There are signs all over the bus stating that you must exit through the back door. So, I directed my boys off of the bus through the back door. Beniah was thrilled to walk down the stairs all by himself. Elijah was more hesitant, so we walked down them together while a lady handed the stroller down to me. Then it was off to the library where we learned all about air and air movement.

     Soon, it was time to go back to our bus stop and wait for our bus to arrive.  The boys were excited and a bit tired. Once the bus got there, we got on the now crowded bus and the boys once again meandered down the aisle looking for the perfect seat while the same bus driver that we had earlier chastised me for the way I exited the bus earlier.  Apparently, it's wrong to allow your capable 5 year old walk down the stairs by himself and walk beside your nervous 3 as he goes down the stairs. I quickly finished paying my fare so that I could end this conversation and catch up to my sons who were once again in the very back of the crowded bus. I dragged my massive stroller to the back and manage to smack the one wheelchair bound person on the bus in the foot (which to my defense was sticking out into the aisle). As I was profusely apologizing, I manage to hook my stroller onto the wheelchair. At this point, I was so close to tossing that massive contraption right off the bus!  Once I unhook the stroller from the wheelchair, I glance up to see Elijah about ready to tumble head first down the back stairwell of the bus (all while a guy was watching him and laughing at how cute Elijah looked stumbling along). Thankfully, Elijah righted himself because the massive-wheelchair hating-contraption of doom was in front of my and there was no way I could get to my son in time to save him from a tumble (although laughing man could, but he didn't move a muscle to help). Finally, I found an empty bench and kindly (i.e. through clenched teeth) directed my meandering boys to "Sit. Here. Now!" I put the obnoxiously large contraption of destruction on the bench across the aisle from me and squeezed next to my boys.  The bus could finally move.

After many stops it was our turn to get off the bus. I directed the boys to the front of the bus, so I could ease the driver's mind. With some help from some of the riders, I got the massive contraption off the bus without hitting the wheelchair bound lady.  The bus driver made the boys stand at the front of the bus until I got off the bus and held their hands as they walked down the stairs.  Elijah wanted my help, of course. Beniah was a little put out that I would force him to hold my hand even though he could walk down the stairs by himself. As I was getting the last boy off of the bus, the driver (with a slightly condescending tone) said, "Good job getting them off the bus, Mom!"  After briefly imagining walking back up the stairs to smack the condescension out of  her, I smiled, turned to my boys, and said, "Who wants Burgerville!"

In spite of my bus riding angst, the boys had a wonderful time on the bus and were super happy about it.