Grandma and her biggest disappointment

 Several years ago I gave my grandmother a remembrance book. It was one of those books on the clearance shelves at Barnes and Noble that encourages the older generation to share information with the younger ones. I thought it was a very smart gift and looked forward to reading my Grandma's thoughts.

First though, I want to say that my grandmother could be difficult. I am sure it was hard to be her spouse, her daughter, her son, her daughter-in-law or roommate, but it was not hard to be her granddaughter. I'm going to go so far as to say her favorite granddaughter.... but not because of anything I did. Mostly because my mom was clueless about newborns and I was the oldest child my mom had. So it gave my grandmother a bond with me that the other grandchildren did not get. I always felt very loved by my grandmother and although she could be difficult I ignored the many quirks she had and just enjoyed our relationship.

After my grandfather and my father passed away, my mom and grandmother bought a house together. Both felt this was a good idea at first, but they had some challenges and not to long after they moved in together they started to get on each others nerves. It was little things, like the afternoon stories grandma had to watch everyday that my mom couldn't stand and mom's leaving and not telling grandma when she'd be home which irked grandma. When I came to visit I would listen to each of them whisper to me why the other one was driving them crazy. They managed though and seemed to settle into the arrangement.

Well, after a few years, my mom got sick and rather quickly passed away. This left grandma with the house but the inability to stay in it without help. She moved to assisted living and it was right around this time that I gave her the remembrance book. According to my uncles and cousins, she took this book with her everywhere and worked on it regularly. After about two years she gave it back to me during a visit to her nursing home. I was so happy when I got it, I remember asking Pepper to drive us home so I could read it in the car on the way.

Much of it was what you would expect. Stories about her parents and siblings. Life as a teenager and a newlywed and a young mother. I remember smiling at the old, familiar stories and the sprinkling of new ones I never heard or did not remember. I would read some things out loud to Pepper and we would laugh together. One example was when my grandmother was scrubbing the kitchen floor and my Uncle L's goat came in the house and head- butted grandma's rear and sent her sliding across the clean floor. 

I turned the page and the heading was "My biggest regret....." and grandma simply wrote "my daughter". I was stunned. My mother was her biggest regret?!! That's what she put in a book to me?! My mom was 2+ years dead by this point and it still stung. I couldn't believe that my grandmother felt this way. I went from totally stunned to totally angry. My 'angry' came out as loud crying I could not control. Poor Pepper was still just driving along and had no idea why I was suddenly so upset and I was so upset I couldn't tell her.

I could not get over the fact that my mom was my grandmother's biggest regret. The worst thing about this is that I was not able to ask my grandmother why. Why was my mom her biggest regret? Why did she write that? What reason could she have had to put that in my book? She died several years later. My visits were few and far between. Even when I visited I was distant and frustrated. She was pleasant enough to me and Pepper and our kids but I kept her at arms length for the rest of her life. 

I now have four adult children. They are all fantastic and I am so proud of what they have become. I can't help but compare them to other people's children and I know, in my heart, that mine are the best. I could go into detail after detail about what all the kids are doing, and I might in another blog but this one is about Grandma. Now that I am farther from the event and can see it more clearly I know that I should have talked to my grandma about what she wrote. 

I can see the point of view that a women with adult children has now. These kids that- as I said- are amazing, can also disappoint. For instance, as a mom with young children, they went where I told them. Don't want to go out to eat? to church? to a birthday party? vacation with me? --- tough! Get in the car. Now, as adults, they just don't. It is their prerogative, but it can be disappointing. 

I've also had friends and family that lost their children. This is something I never even thought of until it happened. When my kids were young, they had mishaps and we had scary times. Car accidents and various injuries, but actual death and their loss never even really occurred to me.  Maybe that is what grandma meant. Just that Mom died before her. That she was gone and Grandma had to deal with the loss. I will never know.

It strikes me now that I think Grandma wanted me to ask her about this. I think she wanted to give me insight or knowledge about something I just could not see then. At the time, I could not listen or understand. I really wish I could have. I am not sure that not asking Grandma about what she meant is MY biggest disappointment, but it is definitely in the top 10.

Time marches on....

It's hard to believe that it has been almost three years since I last posted a blog. I was working on something and a memory was triggered about a blog I wrote a while ago and I thought I'd stop by this site and see what was here.

He's an update:

Pete is doing much better. He has some residual memory issues, but if you weren't living with him or worked as a speech therapist you would barely notice. He can get stuck on a thought or idea and its a struggle to get him off of it.... and when he tries to argue his point of view he can get easily turned around. But, he is so much better. His face is healed and his body is what it was before. The only way to tell that he had any eye damage is when he tries to roll his eyes like a teenager- since he will turn 20 in a few months I hope that completely goes away.

Dori has finished her degree at MSU. She entered the political arena and became a campaign manager in a local election. Everything was going great- until the candidate lost. I think it really broke her spirit. Dori gave up politics. It really isn't the time for Democrats and Dori just didn't want to get on the Republican bandwagon. She's done several other jobs, like waitressing, working for the Girl Scouts, selling Mary Kay and lately insurance. I don't think Dori has found her niche yet.... but she keeps looking- she will find it.

Dill is now 15. He is super bright but his social skills are a bit lacking. For example, last summer Pepper and I took him with us on a cruise. He completely refused to go to the teen center and only wanted to hang out with us or his dads. One day, he was sitting on a deck chair and a teenage girl about his age came up to him and asked his name. Dill, dropped his Sudoku book and looking at the ground stammered "yeah" and went back to his room. Later he said, there were 20 deck chairs to his right and 10 to his left.... why did she have to come to the one right beside him? - He said really it messed up his concentration for Sudoku!

Macy has made the most changes. In fact, I am changing Macy's Blog name. It is now Mack. Mack decided (or always knew) that being a female wasn't working. Mack has been taking testosterone for over a year and recently had a double mastectomy to help his outside look more like he feels it should. This was a hard change for Pepper and I to deal with, but we love Mack and want him to be happy- so we did. Mack seems happier and has big plans in restaurant management... maybe even a move to a bigger town.

Pepper and I are still plugging along. Pepper left the job she had for 20+ years to try something a little different. She is still doing speech, just in a hospital setting now. It means a little more money and different hours (she loves Fridays off!). Today I have a snow day and she doesn't..... she's not really a fan of that change!

Not sure I have a lot more to say, but maybe I'll get into blogging again. I'll try not to take 3 years to post something new....

Thanks for reading.

ilene

Breathing

I should be at work today doing speech therapy with the kids on my caseload. Instead, I'm sitting in a dark room listening to Pete breathe. I love listening to the sound of one of my kids sleeping. When they were little I'd hold them and it would relax me and make me feel at peace. I haven't listened to Pete sleep in a long time. I've seen Pete asleep. When he falls asleep on the couch or in the backseat of the car, but I haven't listened in a long time.

He's in lots of pain and yesterday his sleep was fitful and scary because his heart rate, respiration, pulse ox and blood pressure monitor would set off alarms and set us all on edge. He moaned in his sleep and more than once a tear would roll out his eye and down his cheek without him even aware of it. Today, he seems a little more at ease. He still occasionally moans or complains that he is uncomfortable, but the soft breathing, gentle snoring are the sounds I remember from his babyhood. I'm glad to get to hear those again. Pete still has a long road ahead- healing is hard work.

Be careful what you call me

Yes nurse, you are in charge here. We are on your turf. Coming into this intensive care unit with a very hurt 16 year old boy has knocked me off my game a bit. Our priority is getting him well, so we'll do what it takes. I know we aren't your typical family. Having two moms and two dads is weird, not what this Catholic hospital is programmed to handle. But when you said to me: "No, the real MOM needs to be here." I may have remained quiet but know this.....

I was there when this child was conceived, I felt his kicks while he was inside the womb. I was there in the elevator of this very hospital as we rode to the birthing center the day he was born. I touched his hair when it still had amniotic fluid on it. You met him 4 minutes ago as he was wheeled in here broken and hurt.

I taught him to talk, to walk, to ride a bike and to drive that truck that he just wrapped around a pole. I enrolled him in the school he left without permission to get himself snack mix for lunch. I have kissed ouchies, bandaged boo-boos, removed bee stingers and splinters and taken him to more doctor and dentist appointments then I can count. I can tell you what happened and how he got every little scar on his body and give you more of his medical history than he could on his best day.... And this is not his best day.

I will be quiet and let you care for this boy so I can have my son back.... But be careful what you call me. And if you catch me on another day when I'm not scared and my kid isn't laying on that gurney... I'll be ready and you will know what the word Mom really means and what happens when you cross a real mom.

With the new truck

(**This incident happened with the very first SICU nurse we came across. I have to say every other nurse at St. Joes was respectful of our family and down right friendly. More important than that, our son got excellent care and I am grateful to every single one of them. But that first nurse made me hurt in ways no one with a loved one dealing with an injured patient should be hurt.)

The Weather Boy

I remember the "My First Weather Station" thermometer we had in the kitchen when the kids were little. It had an image of a boy in the display that dressed according to the temperature. So when we first plugged it in and it was 80° the little fellow was wearing a bathing suit and a smile ready to dive in a swimming pool. As summer turned to fall the little guy moved from shorts into long pants. In late fall the temperature in Michigan dropped to 45° our little display was wearing a long coat, boots, scarf and wool cap.

At that point we lost all respect for our weather boy. In Michigan we don’t pull out the hat and gloves until it is at least freezing. And the long coat… at 45 degrees? The kids immediately changed his name to “wimp boy” instead of weather boy and every morning they all got up to check to see if he was overdressed. Poor kid, he just wasn’t used to our Michigan weather.

Going hiking on North Manitou Island

I am packed. This was no small feat. I have 39 pounds of things in this backpack…. Including about 3 liters of water. I have no idea how in the hell I will carry it as far as I need to. I put the pack on in my bedroom and walked out to the kitchen…. I thought I was going to die. The first day of my hiking trip we are scheduled to walk 4 miles. That is just to the campsite. These gung-ho women I am traveling with will probably want to go further and farther than that. I may be in serious trouble here.

There were many packing questions I had that I just had to guess at. Like: how much toilet paper does one person go through in 6 days? I have no idea….. maybe I could have Googled it- but I really feel they would just be guessing too. I have one extra outfit in my bag and my bathing suit…. But I insisted on 6 pairs of underwear. I do not think this is excessive. I really like clean underwear, and I just do not want to take fewer pairs and beat them against a rock and wring them out to dry on this trip.

Macy waited until I was all packed and had everything crammed into the bag (for the 3^rd time) to mention that I should fill the water bladder to make sure everything fit with the water in it. So I unpacked everything and filled it. It fit… it just made the bag heavier.

I am concerned that I will not have water, electricity, bathrooms….. and internet for 6 days. I have no idea how I will fill up the time. I’m going to keep a journal but I really dislike handwriting everything. Typing and auto-correct are really the way I like to go now. (My 8^th grade typing teacher would be amazed…. He didn’t think I’d ever learn to type!)

I think I will miss my family even more than flush toilets…. And that is A LOT! I worry about what I will miss at home and what’s going on in the real world. Also, there are no chairs, I really like chairs. I think this island should invest in a few picnic tables. I am not sure if I can even put the pack on from the ground…. And if by some miracle I can get it on, I wonder if I can get up off the ground with the pack on without some kind of rope system… or a crane.

Ok, enough of these thoughts. I’m just going to try my best. Did I mention there are a lot of snakes on this island? Not gonna worry about it, but I will keep my tent zipped tight! Wish me luck!! Good thoughts and prayers are very welcome too! J

“Call Poison Control!!!”

Dill came running from the bathroom yelling, foaming at the mouth and eyes wide.

Me: what’s the matter?

Dill: I just brushed my teeth with itch cream!!

Me: What?! You’re all right. Just rinse your mouth out and brush your teeth with toothpaste.

Pepper: Don’t you people read the tube?!

(I had done the same thing this morning. Pepper put the cortisone cream on the counter where we usually keep the toothpaste)

Dill: (To Pepper) Mom, I’m gonna die!

Pepper: You’ll be fine, Salt did the same thing this morning. She’s fine.

Me: Its true, my teeth haven’t itched all day!!

Follow up- Dill started crying and REALLY wanted Poison Control called. We did. They said IF he swallowed a lot he could have a little diarrhea, but no other issues to be concerned about… they also called our boy a Drama King….  They pegged him!!

J