The last four months have included some of the highest and lowest of moments.

- I have felt excructiating physical pain while telling a man his daughter died as he was waiting her arrival for dinner.  I have witnessed this same man plead to die so that he may give her his heart.
- I have been in the midst of an enormous family struggle that left us all feeling alone and missing a compass.
- I have learned the differences between Independent Living, Assisted Living, and Skilled Nursing facilities. 
- I have learned that no matter what…at age 92…quality food, along with linen napkins, and dinner chairs equipped with arms (an added plus with wheels) is enough to make a man happy.
- I have experienced proud moments knowing that a move at 92, while not easy, was undoubtedly the best decision we could have made.
- I have learned it is best not to push the elderly into change but gently guide them in the right direction.  Not much different than children really.
- I have realized that a significant amount of time and energy was directed away from my children but I will never regret the time I was given with my grandfather.
- I have learned that homes for the aging need to be ’safety-proofed’ but opposite to those requirements of toddlers.  Everything needs to be WITHIN reach not out of it. 
- I have learned how to put on Jobst Socks and realized that 92 year old feet don’t look so hot.  It is kind of like changing your own babies diapers…when they are yours…you don’t really care.  However, word to the wise…invest in regular pedicures.
- I have learned the importance of lasix but the significant downfalls of feeling confined for the sheer necessity of having to pee every 15 minutes from the diuretic.
- I have learned over and over again how important it is to have an advocate in a health care setting.
- I have learned I better start saving now.
- I have learned the intracies of Medicare and private insurance.
- I have learned to fold a walker as easily as a stroller and sometimes in the same trip.  A little flip here, a fold here and voila…throw it in the trunk.
- I have learned how to recite medical history with ease.
- I have learned how important long shoe horns can be to someone who can no longer bend at the waist.
- While not for long, I have learned how to sit still and just listen. 
- I have belly laughed at stories and recollections of a different era.
- I have learned that it takes a special person to work with the elderly and an even more special person to help them die. 
- I have whispered into the ear of someone I love that is unconscious but hopefully able to still hear (doctors say hearing is the last thing someone loses before death) asked them ‘to just go’ promising them that their mother, father, daughter, and wives are eagerly awaiting their arrival.
- I have learned that a dead body isn’t just a dead body when it is someone you love.  It can actually look quite peaceful and bring significant comfort.
- I realized that we leave this world with NONE of our personal belongings…absolutely no materialistic things.  You leave just as you came…having nothing but the love of your family.

This morning my grandfather died of old age. 

Thank you, Grandpa…for living an extraordinary life and leaving us all with so many great memories.

P.S.  My grandfather’s last parting humor is for his obituary to include his Christening image of he as an infant.  He was insistent upon it.  He was kind of cute.

What a trip! Tim and I, along with my mother, took the kids across the border to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. We had a joyful week of playing in the pool, walking along the beach, eating guacamole, and enhancing the swimming ability of all the children. The boys even attended Kids Camp. We figured out why they liked it so much…the two chiquitas that were undeniably beautiful and spoiled Briggs and Gage with affection. It will be a trip we always remember. Here are a few images.

There are moments that stick with people that they will never forget and never regret.

Here is one of mine.  My grandfather turning to me in the hospital at his bedside, reaching for my hand, and then looking deep into my eyes.  Not just the regular-old eye contact.  I mean the kind where time kind of stands still.  He said with as much voice as he could muster, “I love you so much.  You are tender and sweet.  I have lived such a blessed life.  I am a lucky man.” 

Now those are words I have carefully packaged up to keep forever for if I make it to 92, surely I will have lived a fulfilled life.  I hope that I will be as blessed as my grandfather has been with loving people at my side acting on behalf of my best interests.  I hope that someday I will be able to gently glide into my next life with a sense of peace.  I am hoping this for him.  

There isn’t a single moment of extra time lately.  Seriously, none.  We have made daily pilgrimmages to the hospital since Monday, September 29th to care for my grandfather.  But the “little package” he gave me I will forever be grateful for…he is so worth it.

Here are the signs I now recognize as Autumn:

1) Tim’s SHIRT appears.  It isn’t any old shirt.  It is THE shirt.  My mother gave him this SHIRT for Christmas I believe the first year we were dating or at least the first year he celebrated the holiday with my family.  That means the SHIRT is over 16 years old.  He wears it every weekend.  I can count on the SHIRT to be on his back every road trip.  And if I tried hard enough, I probably could find a picture of him in the SHIRT every year since the early-90s. 

2) Once it gets colder and we are inside more frequently, I get the itch to move furniture around.  I ponder at my rooms each day considering the endless possiblities.  It is like a monkey on my back.  What innovative ways can I create in order to make me feel like I am living in my home yet with a fresh perspective.

3)  The noise-level increases to extraordinary levels.  I seriously am going to pull my already thinning hair out if the decibels don’t decrease.  I now appreciate what open air and a large backyard can provide…a buffer!  I just relegated Briggs, Gage, and the neighborhood chums to the basement…thank goodness.

4)  Soup.  Once the wind chills, there seems to be nothing better than a hot bowl of soup.  I perfected my cream of mushroom soup this past weekend.  When my grandfather explained that his rehab prepared what he rated the best cream of mushroom soup he has ever tasted…I was motivated to blow it away.  I think I succeeded.  Interested in my recipe…give me a shout!

5)  Flannel sheets.  I think it may be time to break out the warm cotton.

6) Early morning runs in the dark.  My neighborhood running buddies and I are now wearing our reflective gear for what I can only assume is a long winter of cold, dark mornings.

When my cousin, Suzy, left today I was a flood of emotion.  We reminisced about Nine (her mother and my aunt) throughout her stay.  While I believe Suzy enjoyed herself, I am confident she was not ready for the noise-level my home can produce given her recent and tragic loss.  She is still sadly lost without this incredible woman.

As Suzy’s car pulled away, I was thrown back to the days leading up to Nine’s death.  I have gone over these days repeatedly.  Lost sleep over it.  Did I miss something?  If I would have known she was not feeling well, would I have insisted she go to the hospital?  Did she avoid telling me because she was the most gracious hostess?  Did she hide any symptoms because she didn’t want to inconvenience our trip or worry us?  And the worst thought…did the Stoner Six provide even more stress to her in the remaining few days of her life?

It definitely does no use playing the ‘What If’ game.  At the end of THIS day, I am thankful for Suzy’s visit.  She is one person who can make my abs hurt from laughing so hard with her dry and quick humor.

But I was thankful also to escape to the country with my clan.  Our house may be loud, it may be full of activity, but we have exactly what we wished for when Tim and I exchanged vows…four kids.  They didn’t come easily to us.  The last three came a bit too close together but we are blessed.

Here are some images of us today.  The first image of us since Tim returned home from his deployment!

Our pride grew for Briggs’ throughout his first season of tackle football.  He put a great deal of effort into this commitment, didn’t complain too much about practice, and learned to appreciate the importance of teamwork.  It also didn’t hurt that he made the winning play in the playoff game by intercepting a key pass to win the game in sudden death. (Don’t I sound like I know football lingo?  It is amazing to me that I was a high school football cheerleader for four years and have so little knowledge about the game.  I guess I was watching ‘other things’ on the field!)

Anyway…Briggs had about the coolest experience I can think of for an eight-year old boy. In fact, it was a cool experience for all of us. My respect for the Colts organization has increased significantly considering they allow these young boys to play their Superbowl in their practice stadium. On Saturday the Eagles went head-to-head with the Packers in a fantastically matched game. Despite the Eagles’ game loss, it was a giant WIN on experience. I don’t believe it will ever be something they forget.

Someone said to me this week, “Well you are half way through with him.”  I didn’t know what they meant until they explained that he will be gone in nine more years.  He is becoming a young man before our eyes.  And he will forever be my little buddy!

However, difficult it is, I have realized, months after my aunt’s death, that something truly positive has come from her passing. 

The relationship with my grandfather has always been close, however his move has made the relationships we all share with him much deeper.  Given he is in the twilight of his life at 92 years old, I am cherishing the days I have remaining.  I would never have had the opportunity to visit with him on a daily basis if Nine were still alive.  

My brother, Nate, and I gave our Grandpa the book below in 1997.  There is an inscription on the inside cover to prove it.  We always heckled him for not filling it out.  I figured there was no better time than while he was in the hospital and rehab.  So I have made it part of my visit.  We have tried to complete several pages each visit.  He is sharp as a tac…remembers details I find fascinating.   

I encourage everyone who still thankfully has a grandparent alive to document their lives.  Ask them questions.  Request stories about their childhood.  Make them recollect their first job, how they fell in love, what they got in trouble for as kids, what their biggest regret is.  You will probably find your grandparent is much more interesting than you thought.

Today, the twins and I stopped in for a quick visit.  You should have seen my grandfather’s face light up.  He was thrilled to see my toe heads walk in with their sassy attitudes and high-fives.  He was just leaving for physical therapy so we walked him to the ‘gym.’  As you can imagine at a rehab facility, the place was packed with nothing but gray hairs…desperately trying to regain some strength and independence in an effort to return to whatever their normal life happens to be.

As we walked in the dreary room, heads turned AND then something magical happened.  The mouths on the faces of the elderly turned up.  Huge grins.  I had no idea that these two little girls would bring such sunshine into the room.  It was as if the room got whiter.  It even seemed to me that their steps got peppier, their rotations got stronger, and their conversation louder.  Campbell, who goes nowhere without her stuffed polar bear, even handed it to several ladies.  It was the sweetest gesture, and she had no idea its impact.  Kindness combined with the innocence of children can go such a very long way, even enhancing therapy!  I am blessed.

So…don’t forget your grandparents and don’t disregard the elderly!

The brightest aspect of each day occurs once the sun has set (and not because my kids are finally silent)…but because our Halloween decorations are out…displayed in full glory. In fact, we have definitely added to our tackiness this year. I just love it! My neighbor, Kevin, heckles me but at least it gives him something to look at while he sits in his home office.

I am convinced (and I am trying to convince Tim) that the decorations will someday lure our children home. I have visions of them rushing home from college at the beginning of October just to see the house lit up in orange and green. I do sound crazy now don’t I?

But I always loved making the pilgrimage home and to my Aunt Nine’s on the holidays to be surrounded by their quirky decorations. Now…there are two women that take Christmas decorating to an entirely new level.  In fact, my mother was known for her ‘holiday tree.’  It was an artificial Christmas tree that she kept up year-round in the dining room (she had a large dining room).  With each holiday, she changed the decorations.  So…on Easter hung small eggs and bunnies, on Valentines red hearts and cupids, and Halloween hung ghosts and pumpkins.  She especially loved Memorial Day and Fourth of July because she could keep the tree decor of American Flags and stars the same over both holidays!

I, however, am not much of an interior holiday decorator. I have a few things out but, honestly, the additional clutter makes me crazy. I think have OCD.  The house has to remain in some type of order for me to function in a pleasant state.  Perhaps when I am not picking up after the constant mess four young children can create, I will feel differently.

Until then…I will relish in my tacky outdoor decor!

I have been silent for a week.  Partly because there aren’t enough waking hours to accomplish all that needs to be done but mainly because I wanted to form the most appropriate words in my mind first. I have been wanting to tell the story of ‘Miss Tame’ for quite some time now.

Not that what I am about to express is anything new but I have learned a great lesson from my grandfather. While our bodies may defy us as we age, and for those unfortunate ones, even their minds…it is still within the realm of possibility to live with grace and dignity. Furthermore, I think it is imperative we treat the elderly with two things:  LOVE and RESPECT. For inevitably, we will walking in their footsteps…shuffling along corridors with solid-soled shoes and a walker.

My grandfather is turning 92 years old in just a few weeks.  He is a pure gentleman.  Even though he is in the hospital, he treats everyone with kindness and an enormous stroke of humor.  Most nurses and doctors seem grateful to care for a patient that actually uses his manners.

I find him fascinating. Believe me when I say…he has had me rolling with laughter on some of my visits…someday I will post some of his writings (he is an excellent writer).  The one about the white dog turd is the best!

He has better recollection of his childhood than I have of mine.  The characters he has come across in his long lifetime are ten times more colorful than those of mine.  He recalls their names, ancestry, and conversations.

One of my favorite childhood memories includes my alter ago of Miss Tame.  My grandfather adoringly named me this when I was young.  I was only Miss Tame with him.  No one else.  I believe it was his hope I mature with some sense of gentility.

In any case, after carefully setting the table and preparing the tea with snacks, I would call Grandpa in from his yard work.  I remember him vividly dropping whatever chore he was involved in, pulling the handkerchief from his back pocket to wipe his hands, and join me at our table.  He would only refer to me as Miss Tame.  He would use a very formal tone and proceed to ask questions.  Our tea and role play probably only lasted a few minutes but it was perfect.  I am grateful to have been the first grandchild.  Clearly as the firstborn I was given special treatment for which not all benefited from.

My grandfather is being transferred to a rehabilitation facility tomorrow.  His strength needs to improve significantly before he may live independently again.  I hope that he is treated with as much respect as we all deserve as we age.  Miss Tame shall follow.

Tim and I took the boys on a trip down memory lane this weekend by attending Ball State’s Homecoming. We wanted to show them where it all began, and we hadn’t returned in years.

In fact, I remember the last time I was on campus I was largely pregnant. I was there for a recruiting effort with Accenture. I got the most pitiful looks from students…as if they were thinking…that poor girl got knocked up and she still is taking classes. I guess I still looked young enough to be a student. I can assure you…NOT anymore.

We went to the football game, drove around campus, bought t-shirts, tossed a ball around the Quad, and most importantly, ate Greeks Pizza. We showed them the Subway where we had our first date (it was all Tim could afford, bless his heart). We drove them past our off-campus houses where all kinds of ruckus occurred.

The very best part of the trip was witnessing the attention Briggs craved. We held hands all day long. He hung on my shoulders, clung to my waist. At one point, I felt him brush my hand up against his cheek. All the while asking interesting questions about the ‘older teenagers’ that lived at college ‘without their parents.’

Tim said that someday the silence in our home will be deafening. I concur. For right now, I will keep the deafening loudness. It won’t be long before we are sending our ‘older teenager’ into the world. God forbid he does all the crazy s**t we attempted!

I took the following images on my phone camera…not exactly high quality but it worked.