Grandpa

I went to bed like normal tonight, but was unable to sleep. I have too many thoughts on my mind and to much sadness in my heart to sleep, so I decided to blog.

A couple of hours ago, my Dad called me from the hospital and told me that Mom and my Aunt had made the difficult decision to let Grandpa go. We saw him on Saturday, and he was bad, but I was hopeful. After all, he's my Grandpa, and he's always been there and he's always gotten better whenever he was sick or hurt. But not this time. The infection is MRSA, the worst kind of infection you can have, and it's gotten the best of him. He knew we were there on Saturday, and even knew who we were, but he was in a lot of pain then and was not with us most of the time. Today, after talking to the Dr., his girls decided to honor his living will and let him go.

He's still here, but he's not.

So many memories, so many feelings...

Grandpa was 41 when I was born. 41. That's very young to become a grandparent. We've got 4 generation pictures of me, my mom, Grandpa, and his father, Great Grandad. You always think of your grandparents as being "old", but...he was only 41, young...very young. And strong. My grandpa has always been very strong, and was a big, powerful man. A quiet man. The words "I love you," aren't words I remember him saying--ever. But he showed us love every day with big, power, bear hugs, the kind that would leave us all breathless, and would have us begging "Grandpa, you're squishing me!" He'd chuckle and let us go, but we'd always come back for more. And that chuckle...deep, low, quiet. Grandpa was a quiet man in laughter and in life.

Always unassuming, always putting others before himself. Even with this last illness, I'd ask how he felt, and he'd say "Oh, I think I'm doing better today." When he admits he doesn't feel well, well then, he really didn't feel well.

Grandpa was the middle child in a family of 12 children. His closet companion was his next older brother, Joe, who was 2 years older than Grandpa. Like all little boys, they got in more than their fair share of mischief. Like wiping green paint on the chickens--so Mom wouldn't know that they'd been in the paint. Not thinking that she would probably notice that her red chickens were now green. Grandpa said they ran when she hollered for them, and that Joe got up the tree first, and Grandpa was the one caught and punished. Joe's punishment waited until Mom had cooled off.

When Grandpa was 14 or so, he went to live with some cousins near Hutchinson, KS. They needed help on the farm and Grandpa's parents thought he'd be the best son to send. He lived with them for 2 years, going to school and working, and getting in trouble with his cousins. Then, he came home and finished High School, driving to Englewood to do so. It was an opportunity for his sisters as well, as Aunt Ivy and Vera were able to complete their education as well. I don't know if they were the first in the family to graduate, but I'm guessing so, as it was difficult to send your children to town for high school in the 1930's.

While in High School, Grandpa met Grandma. I've asked and asked him and her about their dating and what they saw in each other, but they always, somehow, sidestepped those questions. I'd ask, "What did you do on dates?" And the answer I'd get was, "Oh, I don't know, the usual." What the heck was the usual in 1940, in Englewood, Kansas?

After graduation, Grandma and her mother moved to Mulvane, KS. They were already engaged, and last year, we found some old love letters that Grandpa had written his "Kat." that's the only time and place that he called her "Kat." We teased him that he just didn't want to spell out Katherine. But, Grandma said that she was often called "Kat" when she was a girl. We haven't read those letters yet, we've always set them aside to read later. We should have, so we could ask questions about them. In November 1941, Grandpa took the train, and he and Grandma got married. In their wedding picture, taken once they were back in Englewood, he's tall and thin with a head full of thin, dark, wavy hair. it had a mind of it's own and was always a mess. Later, he got a crew cut and kept it very short just to avoid those curls. He was 20 and Grandma was 19 when they got married.

Grandpa didn't go to war in WWII. He had flat feet. He told us that the Dr. for the Army asked him, "What will you do when those Germans come at you, with these flat feet?" Grandpa replied: "Run like Hell!" Instead of serving in the service, he stayed at home and farmed and welcomed a daughter, my Mom, in 1943. Another daughter, Dorothy was born in 1945, but she was stillborn. A surprise child, Sandy, was born in 1953.

Life wasn't easy. They never had much money and Grandpa leased most of his farm ground. They lived in a 4 room house, a kitchen, living room, and 2 bedrooms. Note, no bathroom. There wasn't indoor plumbing in their house until after I was born. Farming in the 40's and 50's was hard. Grandpa always had some kind of livestock--cattle, a milk cow, sheep, a couple of horses (though he was never a real good horseman) and always a dog or 2 and lots of cats.

But, Grandpa could do just about anything. He could wire electricity, he could fix anything mechanical, he built things, and while he might not have been speedy (one of Grandma's complaints), he did a job well. In the '70's when macrame became popular, he took it up. Now, Grandpa has large hands with thick fingers. His fingers are so big, that he never had a wedding ring because they didn't make them that big. So, picture these large, square fingers tieing small, intricate knots. He made plant hangers and purses and even a hammock. I still have two purses he made me. They are so out of style now, but I could never make myself throw or give them away.

Grandpa has always been there for us--for the women in his family, his wife, his daughters, and his grandchildren, both the male and female grandchildren. He's been a part of my life for 44 years, and I just can't imagine life without him in it. I so regret that my children don't remember him as I do. They don't know the man who gave rib-crushing bear hugs. They will miss so many stories, and they'll miss his gentleness and his strength. I've always known I'd have to let him go--but that was always someday, in the distant future, not now. I know I'm fortunate, to be 44 and still have 2 grandparents. But this isn't how I pictured losing him. he was just supposed to go in his sleep, quietly, still strong, still...Grandpa. Good-bye Grandpa. I love you.

your thoughts and prayers please

I'm taking a minute to ask for your thoughts and prayers today. My 85 year old grandfather is seriously ill. He fought on pneumonia last week, but somehow, has a serious infection now. He was taken to a larger hospital where they did surgery to remove a pocket of infection from his shoulder, but it's also now in the bloodstream. he's been given a 50-50 chance of survival. So, we need your prayers.

I know he won't live forever, but...well, we still need him. Grandma still needs him. My Mom certainly needs him. Mom just can't cope with Grandma on her own. Their relationship is too adversarial. And, to be honest, there aren't many people who can cope with Grandma. Grandpa is her tie to reality and to life. He keeps her grounded when no one else can. He keeps her calm when no one else can. It's difficult explain.

Mom and I are driving to Hays today to see him. he came through surgery ok, but still has a long road to hoe--if he gets the chance to hoe it.

So, please pray for courage, and for strength and for His grace.

People of the Book

I like to read, and part of my job entails me picking and choosing books for the library. It's a fun part of my job but sometimes it's a hard part of my job. Sometimes, you read a review and you think, "wow, that sounds like a great book." You buy it, and then, well, it wasn't such a great book."

It's hard too picking out books for others to read. I mean, you have to take into account other preferences and not just your own, which is really hard when you don't know your constituents yet. I nailed it when I chose some graphic novels, some manga, but other graphic novels have bombed. And here's something of note...I am secretly pleased when a book that I bought, and I chose gets stolen.

What???

Yep, if it's stolen, that means that someone loved my choice and loved the book, or DVD, or audiobook, whichever. They loved it enough to steal it. Yeah, that's warped. Because it usually means that I have to re-order that title, but still, it's nice to know that someone wanted something I chose.

So...today, I'm reviewing a book that I bought for the library, and no one else has read it yet. There's still hope that someone will pick it up and read it. It's gotten great reviews, so I hope it catches on.

People of the book by Geraldine Brooks is a great novel. In 1996, Hanna, a rare book restorer, is called to Sarajevo to repair a rare fifteenth-century illustrated Jewish manuscript, a Haggadah, which is read at Passover meals. This Haggadah mysteriously traveled from Spain to Sarajevo, and has survived Nazi book burnings, Vienna's anti-semitism, the Inquisition, and exile from it's native Spain, when Ferdinand and Isabella kicked all Jews out of Spain. It has recently survived the bombings of Sarajevo's libraries..

While restoring and documenting the repairs to the book, Hanna finds various stains and artifacts in the binding of the book. These artifacts lend to the book's history over the centuries.

Each chapter of the book details some of the events in the life of the Haggadah's journey. One chapter describes how it was slipped out of Sarajevo--right under the Nazi's nose and kept safe in a Muslim Mosque, high in the mountains. Another chapter shares how the book was saved from burning during the Inquisition. The final chapters describe how the book was created, from the scholar who wrote it's text, to the artist who, using a brush made from the fur of a cat, created the illuminations.

Interspersed with the book's personal story, is Hanna's own story of discovery. She learns about herself, her past, her heritage and her future. Both stories are blended together beautifully. As each artifact share's it's part of the Haggadah's story, you, the reader, learn about not only the history of the Haggadah, but also about the history of European Jews.

It was a wonderful book that I really enjoyed. I came away with a greater appreciation of ancient books and with the skill it takes to conserve them. I learned more about the trials and struggles of European Jews in a predominately Catholic Europe. It was a fascinating journey.

So, step out there, pick up a copy of People of the book.

Can someone tell my why I love this man?

On Sunday evening, Kev got a call from his boss telling him that he'd have a short day on Monday and that he'd have Wednesday off. It's slow at the clinic and at the hospital right now. Kev didn't have a problem with that, and I didn't either. I was taking 4 days off, and to have him home with me, without the kids...well, that was wonderful!

Then, on Tuesday afternoon, he called and said he'd have to work after all on Wednesday. I was disappointed, but understood. This has happened twice before, Kev thought he had a day off, but wound up not getting it because they'd admitted more patients and got busy enough for him to work.

So, on Wednesday morning, the alarm went off at 6 a.m., like usual. Kev got up, like usual. I dozed off, like usual. I decided to get up around 7 and wandered out into the living room where Kev was watching the news, like usual. I sat down on the couch and sat there about 5 minutes or so, when I realized that it was time for him to leave, and that he was wearing sweats, not work clothes.

Looking at him, I said, "You liar. You don't have to work, do you?"

Kev grinned and said, "That's not nice, what makes you think I don't have to work?"

Me--"Because it's time to go and you are still sitting there in your sweats. You liar."

He just laughed and told me that he loved me being gullible!

Why do I love this...person who would so easily lie to me?

Here's another situation....

Last night, after a long day of planting in the garden and painting, Kev and I were snuggling on the couch. My legs were draped across his, and he was gently rubbing my feet and calves. Out of the blue, he says "I should be out doing some kind of woodworking."

Confused, I said, "why?"

He replied, "Well, there's enough stubble on your legs to sand the roughest piece of wood I've got!"

Now, is that nice? No, it's not. This is my life. Now, why do I love this man? I will never know.

vacation

Right now, I'm sitting on my couch--wearing nuthin' but my robe at the late, late hour of 8:21 a.m. I ran out and let the chickens out, they were very happy about that, but sad that I didn't take the time to toss them some scratch grain. It's just too windy to toss around scratch grain when you are only wearing a robe and the wind likes to whip it up and around in the air. Too much traffic on our dirt road for that nonsense; and I'm sure the folks who might drive by and see me outside in my robe, with it blowing all about are grateful that I didn't take the time to toss grain!

I had 14 days of vacation to take by July 1. I've taken 4. Still need to take 10. And, as usual, when I take time off from work, it means more work for me. when we moved into this house, I hated the fact that all the walls were white. So, for six months, I've been trying to decide what color to paint the living room and the dining/kitchen area. I finally decided. I painted the living room a pale yellow. Paler than I usually do, but it's a nice golden color. I then picked out "rosemary green" for the kitchen/dining room. It's very green. The kids came home last night and told me it was very avocado green. Now, they aren't from the 70s, so they don't know that by using the phrase "avocado green" they sent tremors up and down my spine. It's NOT avocado green, but it's in that color family. It's brighter than the 70's avocado, but o my, it's a big bold move for me. I thought it was more of a sage green, but it's too dark and has too much of a yellowish undertone to be sage. Part of it for me, is that I usually use a satin finish, but picked the more washable semi-gloss for the kitchen. It's pretty bright, and I think that's the cause of some of my unease. But, I do like the color, and I like the statement.

Curtains are next on the list. (well, today, I have to touch up that green, and do a second coat.) But, I have a problem...the curtains in the kitchen are a gingham. A Navy and Cream gingham. I'm not sure it will go with my green. And, many of my accessories have lots and lots of blue. Not sure how they will look against that green. I'll play and see how it goes. But, I imagine I will be looking for fabric to go with my green walls and then, I'll have to make some curtains.

The living room had nasty transom drapes in the lovely color of burgundy. I hated them and they didn't match a thing. So, down they came. I think I'll just use the mini-blinds that are here and lose the curtains. Kev hung up the big-screen TV above the fireplace, which we like. And that allowed us to re-arrange the furniture, which we REALLY like. We've got a short, narrow living room, and furniture arrangement has been a challenge since day one.

some day, I need to learn how to actually "vacation" when I take a vacation.