A Whole Year

So I just remembered I have this blog.   Ha ha.
I don't think anyone really reads it anyway but I thought it might be a good place to post some of my writings.  I am still taking on line classes and I am just finishing my first writing class.  I have written a few poems and a personal essay and even a short story.
I wanted to post one today that pretty much describes my last year.  I hope if anyone reads this...they will enjoy it.

                                                      The Transformation

          “Mom?  You’re going to be a grandma!”  Those words cascaded through my mind with a waterfall of emotions.  Words of congratulations came easily, but my mind wrestled with them.  Scenes of “Fiddler on the Roof” flashed.  “I don’t remember growing older, when did they?”  How did this happen to me?  Did I ever think as a child, “When I grow up I want to be a grandma.”? Yet here I am. I know, I know, Grandma’s are sweet, kind and loving. It’s the best time of life.  I’ve heard it all before.  But do I fit that mold?  When I conger up the picture of the typical grandmother, well, it’s just not me. They are the storybook figure of a stooped over grey haired woman in a rocking chair knitting.  I crochet!  So why is it that I am fighting against the continuous march of time?  Am I afraid of becoming that old gray haired woman in a rocking chair?

          I have waged a war against growing old and becoming the typical grandmother image.  I fight with my personal arsenal of anti wrinkle cream and teeth whitening kits and my beloved hairdresser.  I never want to have the dreaded denture click or the musty smell old people get.  Bath spray will be added to my equipment list as well.  I strike the gauntlet against ending up sitting in a rocking chair all day, by working out in the gym.  My personal trainer had me on the gym floor the other day crawling around like a bear.  It put a notch in my belt when he mentioned most people my age couldn’t do this exercise.  I should mention, in all humility, that the next day,  I had the painful realization that I shouldn’t be imitating a bear either. 

         Why fight this war?  Why not succumb to the inevitable?  What is it that is so bad?  After all I have fond memories of both grandma’s.  My Grandma Nellie was my mother’s mom.  She loved me!  My mother would say she was strict as a Catholic nun, but to me she was the smell of homemade bread, and the gentle hands that tenderly combed out my long brown hair and then rolled it in pink sponge curlers as I sat cross legged on the floor in front of her. She discovered one day, that I loved her custard pudding more than anyone.  And I did!  That velvety smooth sweetness that I would hold in my mouth until the saliva made it watery, was pure gold as it slipped down my throat!  She watched me savoring each mouthful.  I let each bite linger in my mouth, trifling with each morsel of flavor.  The next week she came with a big bowl of custard pudding for the family and with a twinkle in her eye she presented me with a special smaller, container filled with pudding just for me!   

          Lollieta was my father’s mother.  To a stranger she would appear as a mild sweet woman, about 5 feet tall and hunched over a bit as if she were carrying something heavy on her shoulders.  I learned later in life the heavy load she did carry but you never would have known it from her. She made me peanut butter and jam sandwiches that magically tasted better than my moms.  She would smile with a light in her eyes that told me I was special and loved.  Her laugh was ever present.  I was most endeared by the way she could make any situation funny and okay.  Spilled milk became a chance to try out her new paper towel.  Loose chickens in the yard became a game of chase the chicken back into the pen.  It was often followed by a story of my father cutting off a chickens head for the first time and laughing as it ran around with it’s head cut off.  It wasn’t until she told me that story that I understood the phrase, “You act like a chicken with it’s head cut off.”

         My mother went through and amazing metamorphosis when she became a grandmother.  Much like the caterpillar becoming a butterfly.  Hugs were not given often to me or my siblings as we grew.  It was only if we fell and scraped a knee, or perhaps if we graduated from something.  To watch her respond to my children in a completely different manner was a wonderment, cultivated magically at the moment grandchildren arrived.  Arms extended and words flowing out of her mouth that encouraged a hug and kiss jolting me into a new reality.  The superabundance of love that filled her eyes astounded me.  She somehow transformed, beautifully from a mother to a grandmother with apparent ease.

         Kaye, my older sister brought a new twist to grandma hood.  Watching her as she plays with her grand kids- and I mean down on the floor, tickling and running about playing with them, emboldened me to an unfamiliar and redesigned concept of grand mothering.  She did not fit the mold of the white haired older lady sitting in a rocking chair reading a book to her quiet brood of little grand babies.  The squeals of delight and happiness that emits from the eyes of both grandchild and grandma caused the start of modification to my thinking.

         The actual physical process of becoming a grandmother was and emotional labor. The waiting room in the hospital was hard and impersonal.  The chairs were stiff and uncomfortable.  The light colored wooden arm rests did not invite rest or comfort.  The clock was behind me and therefore made it too obvious for me to stare at.  In my mind I was staring anyway.  Across from me sat my daughters in-laws.  They were talking to one another.  I was unable to focus on their conversation.  My daughter was down the hall in an operating room having a c-section and I felt imprisoned by the stiffness in the room.  I wanted to get up and pace in the hallway but the desire to not bring any attention to myself kept me in that ridged chair.  The energy in the room was bouncing off the walls, pushing on my very soul, yet I remained sitting.  I pulled a book from my purse and attempted to read.  Several minutes later, I realized that I couldn’t remember anything I had read so I put the book away.  I attempted to join the conversation of those around me by smiling at them and looking interested in what they were saying but my mind was in the sterile operating room with my daughter.  My beautiful little girl was risking her life to bring another life into this world.  I couldn’t protect her.  I couldn’t hold her, I couldn’t kiss it all better and see her smile and hug me.  I was trapped in that unfeeling room without anyone who understood my agony. The anxiety and worry would soon disappear.  It would be replaced by the greatest of all joys and yes, other worries.

         So I have a confession.  When I held my first grandchild in my arms that day, and felt that emotional connection, similar to the one felt at the birth of my own children, I whispered my deepest fear into the tiny soft folds of her ear.  My precious little grand daughter had been born in a city about 8 hours away from my home.  This is where her mother, my daughter and her husband lived.  The relationship with my daughter had been strained.  I loved her with all my heart but something was changed.  We didn’t have a connection with one another and I didn’t feel she needed or wanted me, or my help.  A painful wondering would enter into my mind off an on throughout her pregnancy.  I would not entertain it long but when it came it caused a searing pain in my heart.  So you wonder, what did I confess to this precious newborn, so quietly that no one else could hear?  “Don’t forget me baby girl.  Please, don’t forget me.” 

         Now, three years later, I have 4 going on 5 grandchildren.  Eliza, the recipient of my confession, bolts from her mothers arms and runs from the car to my waiting arms on the front porch.  “Grandma Gayle” she exclaims with all the wonderment of a child, eagerly traverses the lawn into the world where she believes with all her heart that she is the most important person on the planet.  And at that moment, she is.  I pick her up and swing her around as she gives me a tight hug.  Words I have longed to hear for months, burst from her little mouth as her eyes dance with excitement and capture my mind holding me captive as the rush of adoration for this child consumes me.  Yes, this is the best time of my life.  Slipping from my arms, she takes my hand and pulls me to the piano.  Hastily I glance at my daughter as she carries in her bags.  She smiles and understands as I follow Eliza, hand in hand to explore the instrument she loves.  My weekend is filled with, “Grandma Gayle will you blow bubbles?”  We play piano, take trips to the zoo, and yes, crawl on the floor like the elephant because that was her favorite!  My daughter laughs in wonderment at that transcendent moment, when the mother she knows reconstructs herself. 

         Grammies house?  Grammies house?  Two year old, Cayden is all boy!  He is the son of my oldest daughter Amy. He lights up when he comes to Grammies house.  However, honestly I think it is more because of Grandpa than Grammy. “Pa?” he asks after he gives me his “big squeeze”.  “Bre?”  he continues on naming the entire family.  This little wonder loves family!  Cayden’s phone calls catch me in the middle of a hectic, list driven day, and give me a chance to pause and reflect.  “Grammy, Garbage Truck!”  He bursts into the phone.  I am instantly engrossed with him and his fascination of trucks.  We jabber back and forth about garbage trucks and school buses until his mother retrieves her phone.  I find myself dropping everything to be in the moment with him.

         Restraining myself from picking up Rachel until she has warmed up challenges the very patience of my being.  Her eyes captivate me, transporting me to another time when her mother was just that age.  The likeness is remarkable.  Watching me closely, through those thoughtful pools of blue, she relaxes and smiles as I play dolls with her sister Eliza on the floor.  She cautiously crawls near, wanting to see the imaginative play.  I catch her looking at me in wonderment.  It is not long before she is sitting on my lap happily playing along. Pure joy wraps itself around me filling every empty hollow ache as she looks up and smiles.

    Owen is only a few weeks old yet the connection is there.  I coo with him and he smiles and coos back.  We are in a world all our own communicating on a level known only to us. 

      What has amazed me most about being a grandmother is i the instantaneous surge of adoration that consumes and purifies my soul as a silversmith purifies silver, releasing the dross from my life with the warmth of the flames of love.  It is with each of these darlings that I begin a transformation.  The battle is still being fought on old age but the reasons are different.  I don’t have the grey hair, I don’t have the dreaded denture whistle, I still combat deterioration with all my weapons, but the rationale has changed.  I have changed.  I am grammy, or grandma Gayle, or whatever they want to call me.  I live in the ‘Yes” house.  It is where, whenever their parents allow, I say yes.  Once those precious little ones step foot in my house, what once concerned me, such as clean dishes, vacuumed rugs, toys in their places, and an orderly home, is no longer a priority.  Laughter as we discover homemade play dough, giggles as we dump the blocks on the floor, hugs as we run from the dinner table leaving the mess for later so that we can jump together on the trampoline while its still light,  peacefully and patiently singing song number twenty while a little boy lays next to me in bed not wanting to drift off into a slumber, and a world of wonder with each of their discoveries all take precedence.  They are the reason for the battle.  To enjoy each adventure with these little ones, to impart any wisdom I have learned from my sojourn here, for this I will fight until they no longer need me.  This is worth the crusade against the ever-advancing struggle with the aging process.  Thus my campaign will continue as I transcend into the new me, Grandma.

Random thoughts

Christmas is over. The tree and all other decorations are put away. Even the last of the Christmas candy is almost gone. A new year begins. And what comes with this new year. I am officially doing independent study courses to complete my bachelors degree. I just finished my first course and now have signed up for Statistics. This will be a process. I am not currently employed which frees me to do many much more worthy goals such and scripture study every morning, actually making it to the gym 4-5 days a week, cooking more, babysitting my cute grandson once a week and even making it to the temple. I love what is becoming my new life. I feel this is a time of preparation. I have been called to be a RS teacher and I love studying and finding fun ways to teach the women. My first lesson is a week from sunday. We shall see how it goes. Who knows I might even be able to blog more.

My little Spark of energy! Alyssa

So let me tell you about my family. Today I am going to start with Alyssa, as she is the only one living home presently. This girl amazes me. She is currently on the middle school basket ball team and therefore has practice almost everyday after school. She has determination on the floor! She really wants to do well and is very frustrated when team members don’t have her same commitment level. I have watched her with her friends. She is a natural leader. They love being with her! I can see why. She is full of energy and love and excitement. There is never a dull moment with her. She is succeeding in piano as well. I thought it was interesting that she chose not to be in a ball room dance group with her friends. She said she doesn’t have many nights to do homework and that is one day she does have. She is taking an AP class and she is only in the 9th grade. She is being interviewed today by the news with 10 other students. They are being asked if they could tell the legislature something about education what would it be? I am excited to see it. Her teachers chose her. I am, again, not surprised.

I love this little spark of energy! I love having her home with me. She is amazing!

Curt as “the tickle monster” Eliza loving her grandpa!

So I haven’t posted for a really long time, but I wanted to tell you about Thanksgiving. We had all our kids and grandkids here for Thanksgiving and it was great! We started with breakfast at Amy and Chace’s new house. It was great fun! Then back to our house to get some of the food ready for the big feast. We had dinner at The Hunt home and it was YUM! I believe it was Chace that wanted to do the day over just so he could eat that yummy food again. After dinner we came back and watched a movie here at home. The next day the boys helped Chace purchase his big TV etc. and the girls went Christmas shopping. After we all went bowling and out to dinner! It was a very successful day! We came back and opened our Christmas Jammies. What a great way to start the season. We had a quick goodbye to the Kozaks the next morning and they headed off to Colorado while the rest partied on. Thanks to my Children for making this a very memorable Thanksgiving. Also a big thanks to my sisters for the yummy dinner and tons of shopping fun!

FAMILY TIME!

KRISTY AND CHRIS
GRANDMA GAYLE LOVING TIME WITH ELIZA
GRANDPA CURT HAVING A CONVERSATION WITH CAYDEN.BONDING TIME FOR DAVID AND RACHEL
THE THREE MONKEYS! BREANN ELIZA AND ALYSSA.

Ramblings of a stressed out woman.

So I just have to say this has been a crazy week and it is only wed.

Yesterday on my way to a meeting with my crazy horrible manager I stopped to get a sandwich from Subway. I had 1 hour and I was about 30 min from the office. I pull into the parking lot and get out of my car and kind of chuckle at the guy in the truck next to me because he looks sound asleep. I walk past his truck and realize it is running and I think..something is not quite right here. So I go back and his window. It is down so I ask if he is ok….no response. I poke him in the shoulder and ask louder, “Are you ok?” Nothing so I shake him hard just like the cpr video’s right and yell, “HEY ARE YOU OK?” He doesn’t stir. I then notice a syringe that looks like an insulin syringe and I think crap diabetic coma. I call 911 and move my car when they come and they are getting my info when another cop pulls a spoon with residue in it out of the truck. I was so bummed. Here I was thinking I was saving this kid (about 24 yrs old) (that is still a kid to me) from diabetic coma but no…just a heroine addict. After getting my sandwich and going back to my car and now having to drive and eat at the same time, I was thinking about it and realized this kid had his truck running and was shooting up heroine so I guess it was still a good thing because he was obviously planning on driving after he shot up.

And just as a side note I think my meeting with my crazy manager went well. Thanks for the prayers and Curt’s wonderful blessing.

Okay so then today I stopped at the grocery store to get some stuff and get back to my car and my keys are missing. I search the store and my purse cannot find them anywhere. Walk home with my groceries…exercise right? Get my other keys walk back and get my car then get a call that they found my keys. Yahoo. It has been the weirdest week. I wonder what is next?

I have never been so excited to see a fence start going up!Guess what that is…ha ha
The reason I am so excited for the fence…just kidding…sort of. Such a great thing to wake up to don’t you think?

progress

Ok I know this sounds bad but 4 mexicans 2 gringo’s, heavy equipment and sunny weather! I couldn’t be happier!

The beginning of a project

So we have decided to redo, in a big way, the backyard. Here are pics of step one…tearing everything out!

New Granddaughter

I just found out that Kristy and Chris are expecting a little girl in aug. I am so excited for them. It has brought back a multitude of memories. I loved having two little girls together. Getting them ready for the day was a blast. Making bows to match all their outfits and coming up with new hairstyles that would keep their hair out of their faces was always a challenge. But how I loved watching them play with each other. Of course later in life I have heard stories that well…I didn’t know happened and still wish I didn’t if you know what I mean.

So today I send a prayer for my grand babies. I pray for each of you that you will always feel love. Love from your parents, Your grandparents and all those around you. But most of all I pray you will always feel the love of your Heavenly Father. I love you all tenderly. I pray you will visit often and allow me to read to you and spoil you with love.

Home again Home again

Having fun a great time at the farm! Amy and Cayden trying out the Tractor.Cayden loves his Daddy! At the Cherry blossoms.
AHHH!
Okay, This is cute isn’t it!
Breann, with her friends, Proctor, Breann, JJ, Kenzie on tour.
Two funny girls!

So I am home from a crazy and wonderful time. I went with Breann on choir tour to Boston. I loved it. The history and the music was great! I loved being with Breann and her friends. I especially loved the music workshop. Wed to Sunday was with them and then my next flight took me to Amy and Chaces and my darling little grandson Cayden’s house. I loved holding, feeding changing, bathing, playing and changing him again! We had a great time and saw some great sites.

So here are some things I learned while away.

1. My husband really needs me!

2. I didn’t prepare him well enough for the “arrows” that come at you on a daily basis while home without the wife to intercept them.

3. I don’t mind spit up when it comes from my grand kids

4. I am not too old to sleep for a week on a couch and survive.

5. Breann is a nutcase and I love her!

6. I am not a teenager anymore and I need my 7 to 8 hours of sleep

7. I need to have grandkids living closer!

8. I love learning about other religions

9. Amy and I could spend hours in a fabric store

10. I missed my husband a lot!