Smiling Mom

We’ve known since the beginning of December that my grandma was living on borrowed time.  She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer at that time and given 3 weeks to 6 months to live.  Seven and a half months later, she passed away.

My mom was there, by her side as she passed on.  For that I’m grateful.

The funeral is Saturday, so we’re scrambling to get everything together for the funeral and our next two vacations… today.

We leave tomorrow.

And I had to sell my ticket to BlogHer.

Such a bummer.  This was to bet the first time I’d ever taken a weekend for myself to satisfy my guilty pleasures.

There’s always next year, right??

Sigh.

Priorities.  Family always comes first.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So tomorrow, we leave to attend our final party for Grandma Bryan. And Saturday, we say goodbye.

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I’ve recently been hit with a steam of spam comments.  As a result I’ll be turning off my comments for the days I’ll be gone from my computer.

So all hundreds of you coughONEofYoucough don’t be alarmed when you are unable to leave your witty thoughts on my posts.

Peace, and if you’re attending BlogHer, have a wonderful time.

Dear Grandma Bryan,

So writing this letter is pretty hard for me to do. Not because I don’t have fond memories, I do!  But because I fear that I won’t be able to tell you eloquently enough just how much I love you and how grateful I am for the life I’ve had.

I have lived a very blessed life.  A life filled with love, learning and acceptance.  I have grown up with the benefit of having a two-parent household.  And, amazingly enough, my parents have loved each other throughout the good and bad times.  How lucky am I to have had this experience?

My mom is an amazing woman, a woman you reared.  A woman who you single-handedly raised to be an adult.  For this I am eternally grateful.  When I look at you and your life, I see a woman who was forced into a life where you were required to become a single parent well before your time.  You worked hard and raised three beautiful children who were, essentially, the same age.  I can’t even imagine!  But you did it!  You did it all while working full time, paying a mortgage, and providing your children with the things they wanted and needed.  I admire you so much for this.  It must have been such a challenge at times to keep it all together.

I have vivid memories of Christmas Eve at your house from years ago.  I remember all the cousins getting together to open presents, eat dinner, and play.  (I always wanted to eat at the bar! But usually had to sit at the kid’s table) We use to have so much fun.  I know this was a wonderful time in your memory as well, having your house filled with the sounds of laughter and family.  One memory in particular that I have is when I received a huge Barbie head for a gift.  This head was equipped with lots of makeup, a girls dream!  So instead of the intended use, Barbie, I decided to make up myself, my clothes, the carpet, my cousins and just about anything I could find.  Needless to say, the makeup disappeared from my Barbie head by the next morning.

Each Christmas Eve as we drove home, I remember watching the moon in the sky and searching for Santa’s sleigh.  These are memories that I cherish each Christmas.

I also remember many days spent with you picking blackberries, peaches, and oranges.  I loved playing on your jungle gym in the backyard and playing hide and seek with Jeff, Shauna, and Kathlyn.

But now, as I write you this letter, I’m holding my daughter, Ella, in my arms and realizing that it is because of you and the family you’ve created, that I am blessed with the life I have.

You have worked hard, so hard.  You’ve lived a life filled with family, The Heavenly Father, and friends.  You’ve created many knick-knacks to remember you by.  Both my children have a blanket, made by you.  And each holiday I take out my decorations, the porcelain Christmas tree, Halloween cat and hat, Easter bunnies, and think of you.

And when I speak my daughter’s name, Ella, I am reminded of my history, your mother, you.

Writing this letter is extremely hard.  Time is never enough.  I don’t feel like I’ve had enough time with you, and neither have my children.  You, likewise, didn’t have enough time with Grandpa Bryan.  But you will!  You are about to embark on a whole new journey one filled with eternal love and happiness.  For you, I’m excited.  But for me, selfishly, I feel sad as our time together begins to come to an end.

I love you Grandma.  I love you.

And I thank you so much for the life I’ve had.  I have been so blessed.

With my love,
Nanette

This has been quite a year month for us.  Boy, what a year month!  Aside from a party, anniversary, and general summer hoopla, we had to up and buy a bran spankin’ new refrigerator. Ouch.

Um…Hello, unexpected cost!!  Didn’t see you coming!

The day our fridge died was the hottest of the year thus far.

107 degrees in the shade.

And 65 degrees in our freezer.

Not a good thing.

Our past year has been much like our past month, Unexpected:  To date we’ve:

Replaced:

oven/stove, parts of our heater, our water heater, part of our fence, found a crack in the pipe under our house that must get repaired (not done yet), a big computer issue (read, would no longer turn on)

Paid and need to pay for:

a new master’s program, a new year of preschool, an upcoming vacation, and a myriad of other small unexpected expenses

Worked through:

a torn shoulder, a repaired shoulder, an almost vasectomy, an actual vasectomy, and most recently my grandma’s immanent death of ovarian cancer.

Wow.  Just typing makes me want to curl up in the fetal position and suck my thumb.

I’m tired.  And when I get tired, I retreat.  When I retreat, I become a bad mom.  When I’m a bad mom, I get angry.  When I’m angry, I become a bad wife.  And when I’m a bad wife, I become tired all. over. again.

On Thursday our family leaves for our first camping trip of the summer.  And it couldn’t come at a better time.  I hope to use my time to refocus on the important pieces of my life, (read: family and friends) and not sweat the huge glaring, pending CRAZINESS going on back an home small stuff.  I hope to remind myself this to shall pass and some day we’ll look back on these years fondly as we remember how we relied on love burritos and cheap wine and not much more to raise our kids to the best of our ability.

Someday when my Master’s program is done, I’m back to work full time, and am armed with more knowledge and maturity, I’ll probably see that I didn’t have to have heart palpitations, weeks of anxiety, and sleepless nights worry as much as I did.

But for now, I’m in need of a few good vacations.  And a whole lotta margarita!

First up: Our second annual camping trip with our good friends.

Second up:  BlogHer BABY!!  Hey Roomies!!  So excited!

Third up: My dad’s conference. Where I not only hope to enjoy the pool, but also learn more about being a good leader.

Fourth up: An adult Caribbean vacation WITHOUT KIDS. people.  without kids.  (Thank you air miles and nice stimulus check!)

Fifth up:  More camping with Hubby’s family.

Ya.  So like I said, I’m in need of a vacation, or five.