On letting go

Gam’s in the hospital. Trouble breathing. Pneumonia. Morphine.

Life is shutting down. Things are shutting down.

Bodies once stong are shouting I quit. I’m done. I’m ready.

 “I’m tired,” she said. “I’m ready to go Home.”

I notice my fingers tight around my phone and my teeth grinding.

You’re not ready.

I want to see you again. I want to take more pictures. I want to hold your face in my hands and tell you how amazingly full my life has been, and is, because you have filled it.

That I’ve been mad at you, laughed with you, bragged about you, smiled with you, been-OK-with-life because in the back of my head/heart I knew it wasn’t just me on those bad days, good days, just-days.

Selfishly, I want you to stay.

I want one more time, lots of times.

I want my friends to meet you.

I want to show you where I work, and where I make coffee and where I go outside and stand on the roof when I get stressed.

I want to show you where I run and hike and where the deer live.

I want you to meet my husband.

I’d love for you to meet my kids.

Some people have grandmas. I have a great friend.

Some of us have family. I have you.

Some people feel blessed. I know it deeply.

I’ve had plenty of times.

Sprinkles-on-my-oatmeal times.

OMG-did-you-really-just-say-that times.

Wait-would-you-please-say-that-on-video times.

I-need-you-to-pray-for-me times.

Knowing-I-never-had-to-ask times.

I’m-so-angry-at-you-I-don’t-want-to-talk-to-you times.

Please-don’t-stop-hugging-me times.

There’s only one her–and I got to spend 30 beautiful years knowing that of all the grandmas that have ever been, God gave me Gam. What a gift.

So, about letting go, Gam–

How blessed am I knowing that the reason it hurts to let you go is that you never let go of me?

Times…I hope we’ll have more. But for now, know that it’s OK, and that I know.

Go drink a cup of real coffee. One that doesn’t taste like battery acid, or burnt socks.

Go hug Pop, and eat pizza, and go dancing, and drink Beringer.

Karate chop something. See how many boards you can break.

Take Fluffer for a long walk on the beach.

Make a new kerchief for your hair.

Go crabbing.

Feed the seagulls.

Sing with the Angels. I think you’ll see you were right about the right way to worship Jesus.

Teach Jesus your favorite kata.

Ask Him all your questions.

Dance with Him. I bet he’s got a special pair of egg shakers just for you.

Challenge Him to a game of Scrabble. I’m not sure He will be up for your version, but you can try.

You are the best old soul.

The ‘best old soul of the whole wide world.’

And I am blessed, blessed, blessed to call you Gam.

Thank you Jesus for giving me a ninja for a grandma.

Joy

When I was in college, Gam would take me to the beach and we’d feed seagulls.

Even in the middle of winter.

The best time to feed seagulls, she says. 

 Always popcorn. She could get them to snatch kernels right from her fingertips.

Just like when we were wee.

Gam’s Voicemail Message

“Pat Wilson’s phone. You know what to do.” 

SLOW 5 BABY FOXS

Some cute small child taped that phrase to the stop sign on the corner by my folks’ house.

Which is good, because Gam likes to call and get updates on the little friends living in the drainpipe in their front lawn …

Some people would call an exterminator or animal control.

But they sure wouldn’t do this …

Or this …

Or this …

And they’d never have the chance to do this. 🙂

It’s a Wilson thing.

I think our wee friends felt so loved last summer that they came back to do it all again.

But seriously, who wouldn’t when the crazy people who live in your backyard leave you such fun snacks?!

(Yes, that was our Thanksgiving turkey.)

They were huge fans.

Unfortunately, so were the coyotes that came through later that night.

Oops …

Optimism, Take 2

I wake up to a buzzing phone. It’s Gam. And it’s 6:30 a.m.

“Hello?”

“Jenny? It’s Gammy! And I’m just calling you to tell you that today is going to be a GOOD day, with the help of the Lord.”

“Oh yeah?” I roll over and squint at the clock. Yep. It’s 6:30.

“Chess! Because you’re going to pray it so, aren’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Ok. And we’re OFF! Talk to you tomorrow!”

[Click]

—

The cancer (never referred to as such . . . Gam always says “this thing” or “this disease,” or, my favorite, “this silly thing that they say I’ve got” . . . ) is a little unpredictable. It gives her good days where she feels like dancing and going on dates; and bad days where she can’t stay awake for more than a few moments at a time and wonders if “this is it.”  I hate those days.

But the Optimism keeps her going. Maybe it keeps me going, too. It’s her extra Ninja Trait, and by far my favorite.

If were a silly thing like cancer, I wouldn’t want to mess with Gam today. It’s going to be a good one.

"Holla!"

What happened to your boobs?

“Jenny, you’re not very big, are you?”

“What?”

“Your boobs. You don’t really got ’em.”

“Thanks Gam.”

“So what’s wrong with you?”

“Pardon?”

“Your mother has them. Your aunt has them. I’ve got bozooms.”

“Bozooms?”

“As a matter of fact I think everyone in your whole family’s got bozooms–‘cept you and your sister.”

[Cricket Cricket Cricket]

“So, what happened to you?”

“I have no idea Gam.”

“Oh well! You’ll have to use your legs. You’ve got nice legs.”

Banana Bread Eric

I’m horrible at picking up my phone. So when Gam called a few days ago and I actually answered, she took it as a sign.

“Wow!”

“What?”

“I got you! On the first ring! This must be an omen.”

“An omen? What kind of o–

“Jenny, did you ever meet Eric?”

“Eric?”

“Eric is the most lovely man. A maintenance man who works here at Riddle! He is my personal maintenance man. Well not really but I like to think of him that way. I asked if I could be just mine and he said yes.”

“Oh.”

“Jenny he is just the nicest man. He came to my apartment today and helped me hang a clock. And then he stayed for an hour and visited with me, and then he asked me, ‘Mrs. Wilson do you like banana bread?’ And I said yes and he said he was going to make a loaf for me and then deliver it on Monday morning!”

[Cricket]

“Did you hear that Jenny? He makes banana bread.”

“That’s nice Gam.”

“You like banana bread!”

“Well I guess its meant to be, then.”

“Anyway, I told him that I have four beautiful granddaughters, and that two of them might be coming to visit in May. So I asked him, ‘Could you stay single until May?'”

Apparently Eric said that would not be a problem.

I mentioned it to my mom the next day. (“Oh–Erick. The maintenance man. With the banana bread. I heard.”)

I guess word gets around. I don’t know who’s rolling their eyes more–me or Eric–but I look forward to meeting him in May.

This better be some freaking amazing banana bread.

(Thanks, melikesyou.blogspot.com, for the awesome cartoon.)

Alfredo and I’m So Smart

"Im so smart!"

Gam was craving alfredo tonight.

“Jenny, I wanted alfredo all day. So I called down and said to Denise (the dining services manager) that I would like some of that . . . oh fiddle . . . Jenny what do you call those square flat noodles?”

“Lasagna?”

“No.”

“Ravioli?”

“No–”

“Fetuccini?”

“Yes! Fetuccini! That’s the one!! But they didn’t have any. They just had plain old spaghetti. So do you know what I did?”

“No. What?”

“I said to Denise, ‘Denise, I would like a bowl of regular old spaghetti. With alfredo sauce on the side. And then I said to myself, ‘Self, last time you had alfredo, it was awfully dry.’ So do you know what I did?”

“No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.”

“Right. I said ‘Denise, I would like a plate of regular spaghetti, with alfredo sauce, and– here is the kicker–an extra bowl of alfredo sauce on the side. I’M SO SMART!”

[Sigh.]

“And so I opened the container. And I poured the extra sauce. And I stirred it in there, real good, all mashed up together. And it was perfect. Oh, Jenny, I’m so smart.”

“Yes Gam. You sure are.”

Ninja Trait #7: Responsibility

“Jenny, would you like my bedroom set?”

“Why would you give away your bedroom set?”

“You know. For when I die.”

My ticker stops for a sec. Too matter-of-fact.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” I tell her.

“Well we’ve got to.”

“Not today we don’t. Besides what are you going to keep your cute pajamas in if you give away your bedroom set?”

“Well it’s good to be responsible about these things,” she tells me. “I’d like you to have my bedroom set cause your mother tells me you STILL don’t have one. There. All done! That wasn’t so bad. Now, what fun things shall we talk about?”

Responsibility isn’t always fun to talk about. But tonight it’s fun to remember.

A brief list of responsible things I learned from my Gam . . .

1 It’s OK not to talk to anyone first thing in the morning until you get your grumpies out. (More later)

2 When you go swimming, you always wear sunscreen. But no higher than a 4 or a 6 SPF or else you won’t get a nice tan.

3 Ice cream tastes the best after the news was finished (When I was little I couldn’t understand how Dan Rather could ever be more exciting then going for ice cream. Oh well.)

4 Good neighbors always have a pot of coffee going for drop-ins. Always.

5 When you’re going out, you always wear lipstick and always wear earrings. Always.

6 You go to church on Sundays and you raise your hands or else you don’t love Jesus. (More on that later.)

7 Clean the house BEFORE the cleaning lady gets there. Not because you need a cleaning lady, but because you know someone who could use the work.

8 Treat maintenance men and waitresses with your utmost respect. When your cat runs away or you need an oversized Geisha portrait hung in the perfect spot, you’ll have plenty of help.

9 Say thank you with huge tins of brownies.

10 Decorate your place how you want to, with things you love. Even if that means you have a Christmas tree hung with nothing but homemade stuffed cat faces with google eyes.

11 Take long walks with your dog even if you go so far you get lost.

12 When you say you’ll pray for someone, do it. God listens to anything you put on your fridge

13. Ask for hugs when you need them. Sometimes you just need a hug.

14. When in doubt, tell someone you love them. Even if its three times in a row and you feel silly saying it.

15. Starbucks coffee is overrated and “smells like burnt socks”.

16. Family is the most important thing you’ll ever have.

17. Don’t stare at people who look different than you, even if they have an extra thumb. They’re probably the nicest people you’ll ever meet.

18. Oatmeal is so much more fun with rainbow sprinkles.

19. Old Bay seasoning makes anything taste perfect.

20. Cheer for your favorite teams.

21. Knowing the words to The Wells Fargo Wagon is a resume-worthy life skill.

22. Corgis are God’s favorite dogs.

23. Feed the hungry; you’ll find a best friend. (Even if its about stray cats.)

24. Swear words are sometimes necessary.

25. Keep your life savings in a sock under your mattress.

Ninja Trait #2: Bravery

I’m just about through my Traits of a Ninja series.

Today’s little post is about bravery.

And the fact that “Self Defense” is just so much cooler when you spell it like our little friend on the right.

A few years ago, Gam was invited to a teach a seminar on self defense. To teenage boys. At a detention center. At age 82.

82!

I’m not quite sure if the bravery gets allotted to Gam or to the poor young convicts who learned choke holds and flip kicks from a seemingly innocent old woman who could actually rip out their jugulars with one fell swoop.

But she did it.

She told me it wasn’t the most pleasant experience she ever had, and that two days is not nearly enough to teach anyone much about anything, but that the boys were amazingly eager to learn and quite respectful.

I’d be respectful too if I were getting basic karate lessons from a ninja.

Did I mention she was 82?