I know what he'll miss the most.

Hershey's chocolate
and Tasty Cakes
cold orange soda

Sunday dinner
with the family
though he's missed
that for a while now

the sound of
laughter
both his own
and those around him

his beautiful wife
and the way
he could see
the last 67 years
in her eyes.

telling stories
beautiful and amazing stories
about his first car
his first love
roller skating
movies that were a nickel
and adventures in airplanes

playing skipbo
dominoes
and pick-up-sticks

He'll miss me.
Not in the same way I miss him
with tears and a broken heart
but with a gentle yearning
that makes him pause now and then
just to see if I've made my way home.

and when I do
he'll call out my name
"Sandy dandy, sweet as candy"
and greet me with a hug.
which is exactly what I miss the most.

I wrote this in the months after my grandpa died and never published it.  I guess I thought it wasn't finished, or wasn't good enough.  Now I just want it here to remember.  

Chococaramallow: An adventure it sweet maddness!

I have a slight obsession with making things myself.  Take for instance these caramel wrapped marshmallows from Not So Humble Pie.  I looked through the recipe and thought  "I can make those!".  After all, I've had experience making homemade marshmallows.Wrapping them in caramel shouldn't add too much trouble.  Three attempts later I had the perfect soft and delicious caramel to wrap my light and fluffy marshmallows in.

 

But my ultimate goal was to dunk those pillows of caramel and marshmallow goodness in chocolate. This is where the adventure began. My first batch was melted by the warm chocolate goodness I bathed them in leaving puddles of caramel topped with marshmallows. Then I decided to only make ten at a time. Between each batch I refrigerated the chococaramallow goodness, and the results were wonderful.

 

I ended up with much more caramel wrapped marshmallows than chocolate coating so I wrapped what was left  in wax paper, and gave them to friends and family.

And with the extra caramel I had, I made these Chocolate Salted Caramel Cookies and with the extra batter I had from making those I made Chocolate Peanut Butter Surprise Cookies.  And just now as I am finishing this post the timer on the oven is ringing to let me know that the cranberry apple bread I made this morning is ready!  School needs to start soon or I'll bake my way to 400lbs!

I'm missing the sweet sound of my grandparents voices this Christmas morning, and remembering the wonderful Christmas's I spent at their house as a child.  Grandpa was always so proud of his Christmas tree.  He'd lay underneath it with each of us and look up through the glowing branches.  We'd eat delicious food and play games like Skipbo, Uno, and Pick-up-Sticks.  In more recent years I was not able to spend Christmas with them, but I always called.  Grandpa always greeted me with a "Merry Christmas Sandy Dandy!  Did Santa leave coal in your stocking?"  He'd tell me about Christmas's when he was a kid.  His parents would decorate the tree on Christmas Eve and the kids weren't allowed to see it until after Mass.  So they walked them down the stairs with their eyes covered.  It was the tradition at that time for everyone to make candies and cookies and then neighbors would walk from house to house admiring each others tree and the villages they set up under neath them and have some cookies and candy.  It sounds like a wonderful tradition!  When I set up my village this year I thought about grandpa and grandma a lot.  I just keep thinking what amazing beautiful ships they are. 

"Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port."

Overwhelmed with school and clinical, I'm waiting for David to come home and find me drooling and mumbling incoherently.  It's not a lot, except that it is.  I want to be perfect.  I want to know everything before I know it so that the patients I have are cared for in the best possible way.  You don't become a nurse over night.  The good nurses put in years to get good.  It's not that I am afraid of the work, because work has never scared me.  I just don't want to mess up when the well being of another person is at stake.  Granted, we aren't performing brain surgery or anything remotely close to it.  We're washing butts, applying creams, feeding, and ambulating.  It's really nothing more than I've done for Hayden over the past two years.  And yet somehow it seems more significant than that.  I wash skin as thin as crepe paper and see my future in the eyes of someone lost in their own past.  I imagine the life that led them to this place and wonder if they are happy here, or if it is their own personal hell.  I think about them when I am not there.  Did Mr. S get to eat all of his food or was the aid to busy to give him the time he needed?  Did Mrs. A throw her depends at another unsuspecting student? 

I will not work at a long term care facility when I graduate.  I know that it is not the place for me.  But I am forever connected to the people in this place. 

I came here expecting to write something about giving thanks, but my mind is swirling around my recent time working in a long term care facility, the talk my fellow students and I had with a hospice nurse today, and this poem;

"I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says: "There, she is gone."

"Gone where?"

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says "There, she is gone," there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout "Here she comes!"

And that is dying."
 --Henry Van Dyke (1852-1933)


I am grateful for all of it: my time at this facility ( as difficult as it may seem right now), conversations with those who are the guides on the journey of letting go, this poem that depicts death more beautifully than I ever could, and for so much more.  I am thankful for this life.   Every last second of it. 




 




 

Maybe it's the time of year.  The dull gray tones of bare trees against a pale blue sky always remind me of loss.  In school I learn the clinical diagnosis for different types of death.  They all equal loss; someone is missing a father or mother, a sister or brother, a child. We read about liver failure and ventilators and I see Pam, the rise and fall of her chest as a machine took breaths for her, the tubes that seemed to be everywhere, and the empty catheter bag that let us know her body had nothing left to give.  There was so much I didn't know at the time, so many signs I didn't know to look for.
It was in November that I became a legal member of her family, though she welcomed me in long before David and I ever said I do.  It was in November of each year that we gathered at her mother's house in Oregon to celebrate Thanksgiving with too much food and never enough time.  It was in November that we lost her. 

A day without school

To be honest, this isn't my first day off of school.  I stayed home Wednesday to try and get over this horrible cold.  Hayden I slept most of the day, and I woke up on Thursday feeling better than I had all week.  Today I'm feeling even better. 
I have no big plans for today.  I did call grandma to see if she would be home today.  I think Hayden and I will go and see her.  We also have the Halloween parade tonight.  Hayden is going as a cow. We found the costume at Sam's Club for less than ten bucks.  I could hardly say no.  Erin will miss the parade.  She has a football game tonight.  I did her makeup for school this morning.  She is a fangless vampire.  In the process of putting on the fake fangs I dropped one down the drain.  She looked good despite her missing fangs.
I'm busy making plans for our 10th anniversary.  We're thinking of going to Pittsburgh for the day.  I'm trying to find a nice restaurant that isn't to crowded and won't break the bank.  I'm excited about a night out with just the two of us. It's a treat we rarely get.  

A little more than 1/12 of the way there.

I eat, sleep, and breathe nursing school.  Anatomy definitions skip through my brain on a regular basis.  While watching "House", I mentally take note of the diagnosis that I have learned about in class.  It's exciting and exhausting.  A friend in school has been sleep-studying.  She literally wakes up to find herself searching for her text books so she can study. 
In a little less than a month we will begin clinical rotations.  It's the part I'm most excited about.  Book knowledge is important, but I can't wait to get my hands dirty.  I'm already looking into LPN to RN programs. 

On the home front things are going fairly smoothly.  Erin was recently chosen to go with 20 other students from her school to participate in a mock debate.  I wasn't able to go and watch her, but I did ask her a ton of questions and asked her if anyone there took photos.  She said she had a good time.  The band is playing their last home game today.  I have the camera and video camera ready. It's supposed to be a beautiful day too!

Hayden loves school.  He also loves Goldfish crackers and yogurt.  Each morning on our way to school he says hello and goodbye to all of the pumpkins he sees.  He also points out the cows and horses and makes the appropriate animal noise to go along with it. 

Adventures in Nursing School

 The transition has been difficult to say the least.  Waking up earlier, preparing lunches in the evening, starting Hayden in daycare, and switching my brain back into school mode were almost enough to make me run like mad in the other direction.  This is only one year.  With each week that passes, I remind myself that at this time next year I will be a nurse.
It is work, but it is exciting too.  Everyday I learn something new.  Of course there are things I'd rather not learn like how to inspect an anus or how to give an enema.  I don't think either of those things is exciting for most people, but they are a part of the bigger picture of providing care.  In a few weeks we will begin clinical rotations.  The thought scares me to death and thrills me at the same time. 
Outside of school life has continued almost as normal.  Erin is busy with band and school.  The marching band is doing an awesome job and I'm so proud of them!  Erin is doing better in school and seems to be trying harder this year.  It makes me so proud.  Hayden loves daycare.  He has friends and really enjoys the social aspect of it.  He's learning so much too! 
David finally took his test to become an appraiser.  He won't know his results for six weeks.  We're trying to be patient and hoping that he passed.

I want to share this quote with you from one of my nursing books:

"Several years ago, I read that elementary particles (the "things" physicists study!!) were "bundles of potentiality."  I have begun to think of all of us this way, for surely we are as undefinable, unanalyzable, and bundled with potential as anything in the universe."   Mary Ann Anderson "Nursing Leadership, Management, and Professional Practice for the LPN/LVN"

I will think of you
when an organ plays.
when the burgundy leaves of Autumn begin to fall.
when soft sweet tones of an old hymn fill the space between us.

I will think of you
when I pass an old dirt road it's dust kicking up behind me.
when I snap green beans fresh from the garden.
when I hear the theme song from "Fall Guy".

I will think of you
when I fill in the last blocks of a crossword puzzle.
when I make pot roast for dinner and serve it with slices of bread and butter.
when I graduate next September, a nurse just like you.

portrait of me

All too often David complains that there are no photos of me. I am always the one behind the camera capturing these moments that will add up to a lifetime of memories.
Yesterday I made it my mission to capture myself at thirty-one. My hair is longer than it has been in years, I've gained a few pounds which show up in the roundness of my cheeks, and there are faint laugh lines around my eyes. Most of the time I don't feel thirty-one. I'm not even sure how thirty-one should feel. I know that I am more comfortable with myself than I have ever been. When I looked at this picture in the view finder of my camera I didn't think "Oh God delete it!". I saw the round face, thin blond hair, big smile, laugh lines, and bright eyes and thought "Yep, that's me.". Of course there are still things I would change about me, but I don't obsess about them. I am more able to see the beauty in myself as a wife, mother, friend, and person. I am okay with not having anything figured out other than what I will make for dinner and sometimes I don't even figure that out until minutes before I turn on the stove.
I am me and I'm okay with not defining all of me right now. There are things that were true about me before that are no longer true and things that aren't true now that may be true later. I am evolving and enjoying (almost)every minute of the process.

We are on our way to the Bruin Labor Day Parade after a late night of fireside talking. I'm absorbing all of the sunshine and time with friends that I can. The road ahead promises to be a busy one bustling with new beginnings. Both Hayden and I will start school on the 13th. I'm saddened by the thought of being away from him so much, but excited by all of the possibility I'm creating for the both of us. He will be in a fun learning environment surrounded by kids his age. He loves spending time with other kids and we don't often have the opportunity to be around any his age. We will be celebrating his second birthday soon. I'm not sure how we got here. I remember a trip to the store I took without him just a few weeks after he was born. I was still under the influence of new mommy hormones and recovering from the chaos of his birth. There were so many unknowns floating around in my head. I saw children playing in the isle of the store and wondered if I would be here when Hayden was that age. The future, as it always is for me, was a complete mystery. I only knew that I had that time and that space and I was determined to make the most of it. Here we are nearly two years later, and again we face a future full of mysteries. I am making all of these plans and all of this could easily be turned upside down by whatever we find out on Wednesday.

Wild Women

Years ago as we were just giving birth to this sisterhood of bloggers, I had a vision a glimpse of something. Since then I have searched for the words to describe what I saw so clearly in my mind. A few days ago as I was reading WWRWW I skipped to the end of the book. It was there that I found a few of the words I was looking for.

"We are born and reborn night after night from this same wild dream, and we return to daylight grasping a coarse hair, the soles of our feet black with damp earth, our hair smelling like ocean, or forest or cook fire....... Let us admit it. We women are building a motherland; each with her own plot of soil eked from a night of dreams, a day of work. We are spreading this soil in larger and larger circles, slowly, slowly. One day it will be a continuous land, a resurrected land come back from the dead. Munda de la Madre, psychic motherworld, coexisting and coequal with all other worlds. This world is being made from our lives, our cries, our laughter, our bones. It is a world worth making, a world worth living in, a world in which there is a prevailing and decent wild sanity."

The image I had was of our bare feet pounding the earth creating a rhythm that vibrated through us and out of us in the form of wild laughter. There was an intensely deep feeling of connection.

I still don't have the exact words to describe my vision, but I keep it tucked away waiting for the perfect words to come.

Where has summer gone?  Wasn't it only yesterday the snow was melting and things began to warm up?  I am not ready for another winter, but winter will come with or without my consent.  For now, I'm soaking up as much of the sun as I can, enjoying every last ray of it.  I'm looking forward to fall festivals, pumpkin picking, and warm apple cider.
The garden is still growing despite my complete inability to take care of it on a regular basis.  We are going over tonight to water, weed, and pick green beans.  Afterward we'll  all go out for ice cream.
Friday's with my grandma haven't panned out exactly the way I thought they would.  They've been filled up with appointment after appointment after stinking appointment.  Most of the time she is even busier than I am.
 I have a few photos from the garden.  These were taken about a month ago.

Grandma working in the garden. 

Hayden helping grandma pick green beans. 

Green beans! 

Our first zucchini! 

The yellow tomatoes have done much better than the Brandywine and red tomatoes. 

Funny little cucumber. 

My little baby melon.  We have three others now! 

I photographed my last wedding of the season yesterday.  Weddings always create such a strange mix of emotion in me.  I see the newly married couple so in love with each other and with the endless possibilities that stretch out in front of them.  It always reminds me of that time in my life.  I wouldn't want to go back to that place because there is something to be said for having ten years under your belt, but I do relish the sweet memories of being so young and so in love that we were oblivious to anything else.  Yesterday as I watched the bride dance with her grandfather I couldn't help but think of each of my grandfathers.  I started married life with both of them and now they are both gone.  Life changes so quickly.  One of the bridesmaids and I talked about the importance of these moments and their fleeting nature.  A wedding is one day, but the memories of that day last a lifetime.  I hope that I was able to capture photos that will help them remember forever. 

Beef Bourguignon: A Love Story

Last summer I went with Jen and her sister, Karen, to see Julie & Julia.   The movie was funny, sweet, and everything you'd expect from a great "chick flick".  We laughed.  We cried. (Karen and I did during the previews anyway.)  We drooled over the amazingly delicious looking food.  I immediately decided we needed to make beef bourguignon.  A part of me would not be whole until we did.  One year later, after seeing Tyler Florence make it, we set out on our beef bourguignong making adventure.  I prepared the list and Jen did all the shopping.  She's a saint!  She and Karen arrived at my house around 3 o'clock and the cooking began.  We cubed, we chopped, we caramelized, we simmered, we turned every-day bacon slices in to lardons, we poached, and we flambéd until our little dutch oven full of goodness was finally ready to enjoy. 

My great-grandma Martha's dutch oven being put to good use.  At one point while we were cooking I took a moment to imagine her doing the same. 

If you've never poached a pear, I highly recommend it.   They are sweet and succulent.

It's been so hot here that David suggested we eat on the porch. I spent the morning getting everything ready for an enjoyable dining experience. I even picked the flowers from my flower garden. :)

I heart paper lanterns. 

The Beef Bourguignon! What's not to love about egg noodles, tender beef, bits of bacon, pearl onions and mushrooms in a savory sauce?   Despite some flaws in the recipe regarding an over abundance of beef broth, I thought the end result of our culinary adventure was great.  The beef was tender the sauce was flavorful.  In the future I'd like to try serving it over mashed potatoes.

For desert we sat our perfectly poached pears atop chocolate gnash and added a little vanilla ice cream garnished with a wafer cookie.   It was a delicious experience. 

At the end of this journey I find myself still in love with Beef Bourguignon. I had loved it for it's possibility, for the wonderful way the name of it rolls off the tip of my tongue.  Now I love it for it's beautiful simplicity, and savory flavors. 

A message from the universe.

Sometimes life gets so crazy it takes a message from the universe or from Dawn in Wildwood, MO. to slow me down.

Today I am taking a deep breath and letting go of all of the expectations I have for myself.  I'll pick some of them back up tomorrow, but for today I'm working on allowing myself to just be.  I'm accepting that it really is OK to not do everything.  It's even okay to do absolutely nothing sometimes.  The world will not end. Planets will not collide.

Thank you universe. Thank you Dawn.

Confession:   We hold Hayden while he naps.  Occasionally we'll put him down, but normally all 27lbs of him rests on either David's or my chest while he sleeps. In the beginning I was over-compensating for having missed the first two weeks of his life. I didn't want to miss a single second more even if those seconds were full of nothing but the rise and fall of his chest. Two years later, it is routine.   I don't think either of  us mind it.  Usually whoever is holding him takes a well deserved nap along with him.  Yesterday as I held him I thought about these days and how we so often seem to be in a rush to just get through them.  We tell ourselves that if we just make it through this task or this week we'll slow down and enjoy life.  It rarely works that way.  As I held him, watching his chest rise and fall, I was fully aware of the value of that moment, completely aware that these days that seem to run together and bleed into one are as unique as each pale blond strand of hair on his head.

a little of this and a litle of that

I spent part of the evening picking green beans with grandma while Daivd watered the garden.  The garden looks like a disaster to anyone but me.  There are  large patches of weeds in between crooked rows of vegetables.  Any serious gardener would probably look at it and laugh.  I look at it and think that if my life were a garden, it would look just like this.  I'm rediculously in love with each green leaf, tiny blossom, and twisting vine.  Monday evening while we were watering I found a tiny baby watermelon growing and immediately decided that I needed to camp out next to it so that nothing would eat it.  Luckily, I have a sane husband who talked me out of it. I checked on it today, and it has doubled in size.  I wish that I had more time to spend in the garden weeding, watering, and soaking up all of the goodness that comes from mixing soil, water, and seed. 

Hayden is a growing mess of boy.  He loves all things loud and destructive.  He and I love to read books and work on puzzles together.  He usually gets the first four pieces in before putting them in wrong and laughing hysterically.  He's also decided that he shouldn't have to wear a diaper and takes it off whenever he can get away with it. 

Erin is having a good summer. I've seen a lot of  change in her.  She's  still crazy about boys and still very independant.  I don't think either of those things will change anytime soon.  She's impressed me with her ability to admit when she is wrong.  She isn't usually able to admit it in the moment, but given a little time she will come to me and say she is sorry.  That small morsel is enough to fill me with hope.  She's also expressed a sincere interest in doing better in school this year.  Usually I am the one telling her she needs to do better, but lately she's been the one telling me she is going to do better. 

David is still working and enjoying his job.  He also enjoyed a nice week without wife or kids while we were awain in Atlantic City.  Lucky him! 

I am looking forward to school in the fall.  The LPN program I'm enrolled in runs from September to September.  I'm nervous about the details, but comfortable with the overall idea of going back to school.  I just keep reminding myself that it is only a year.  I can do anything for a year. 

still living

What The Living Do
Marie Howe


"Johnny, the kitchen sink has been clogged for days, some utensil probably fell down there
And the Drano won't work but smells dangerous, and the crusty dishes have piled up,

waiting for the plumber I still haven't called. This is the everyday we spoke of.
It's winter again: the sky's a deep, headstrong blue, and the sunlight pours through

the open living-room windows because the heat's on too high in here and I can't turn it off.
For weeks now, driving, or dropping a bag of groceries in the street, the bag breaking,

I've been thinking: This is what the living do. And yesterday, hurrying along those
wobbly bricks in the Cambridge sidewalk, spilling my coffee down my wrist and sleeve,

I thought it again, and again later, when buying a hairbrush: This is it.
Parking. Slamming the car door shut in the cold. What you called that yearning.

What you finally gave up. We want the spring to come and the winter to pass. We want
whoever to call or not call, a letter, a kiss--we want more and more and then more of it.

But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the window glass,
say, the window of the corner video store, and I'm gripped by a cherishing so deep
for my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned coat that I'm speechless:
I am living. I remember you. "


What more is there for the living to do than to live?  My grandfather, a man I admired and looked up to my entire life, is gone.  Once again I face the difficult task of letting go.  I got to say goodbye too him. I got to tell him how much I loved him.  This will have to be enough.  When Pam died I struggled with moving on.  It didn't feel right to move forward when she could not. 
It was 5:45 a.m. when my mom called to tell me my grandpa was gone.  I was asleep dreaming.  In my dream we were building a house on the land I love so much.  Hayden was around five-years-old and was helping David hammer in a nail.  My entire family was there to help except for grandpa.  I thought about this dream as I snuggled in close to Hayden.  I stroked his head and gave him a kiss.  I thought about my grandpa and the pieces of him that live on through each of us.  I thought about what it means to honor someone, not just for a moment or a day, but throughout your life.  I will honor my grandpa by carrying on. 
I will got to a ball game tonight with family and friends.  I will chant and cheer and laugh and smile.  And all the while I will be "gripped by a cherrishing so deep." for the days I had with my grandpa and for those that I have left without him.