Someday.

Someday it will be me.

It will be that moment no one likes to think about. Or even say out loud.

Saying goodbye…forever.

Today is day one of many goodbyes to our Grandmother.

It doesn’t come as a shocker. It was not sudden or painful.

It was just time.

Ninety-six years of time.

Blessed time.

But five years without her sweetheart.

So yes…it was just time.

Time to say goodbye to all of us here, and hello to her sweetheart again.

I am trying desperately to remember this…we were blessed. We had her for so long. And now it is time for her to be at peace.

I told her it was okay (we all did), I whispered it in her ear, told her I loved her, many times…we had several weeks with her to say goodbye, as she slowly declined into a peaceful eternal sleep.

But I am still so heartbroken…

I will miss her…my husband and children and sisters and Aunts and Uncles and cousins…we will all miss her.

She was amazing…stylish, classy, funny, devoted and fierce.

She would be hard to forget.

So I will continue to tell stories about her to my children and remind myself of all the beautiful memories we had with her.

She was like a second mother to me and my sisters through some very tough years for our mother and her painful divorce from our father. Our grandmother stepped in and protected us and hugged us and made us smile, when our mother just couldn’t. I don’t hold this against our mother…it was actually a gift. We were able to create a special bond with our Grandmother.

We are forever grateful.

Tonight, is our first of many goodbyes and many tears…some sad but many happy.

We were all blessed to be loved and adored by our Grandmother, Mother, Aunt, Mother-in-law, friend, sister…

 

Thank you, Gram, for just being you…

Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality. ~Emily Dickinson

Advertisement

Last Night.

About last night.

He was supposed to wake up this morning with a pounding headache. He couldn’t forget to grab the Advil and bottle of water before he collapsed in his bed-hopefully not alone.  He knew he would drink too much.  He knew he would be needing to let loose and get drunk. He was heartbroken. He would get over him, and the heartache…he just needed to have some fun.

But not last night.

She was to meet her at eleven. She would be waiting at the bar. She was nervous. She had never done this before.She just met someone she could fall madly in love with – it didn’t matter what clothes she wore or what bathroom she used. Who the hell cared what others thought.  Her friends and family would have to deal with it, support her, or she would have to walk away.

But not last night.

It was their big night on the town…celebrating their engagement. They couldn’t wait. They needed this. To laugh, to dance, to rejoice. Their moment to say to the world that they loved each other, and wouldn’t have it any other way. Their most devoted and loyal friends and family would be by their sides celebrating-dancing, toasting them, loving them.

But not last night.

He was bullied all through school. Did they know something about him that he wasn’t ready to admit to himself? Why did they mock the way he dressed, or the way he walked and talked? Why did they draw those dirty pictures and tape them to his locker? He was finally ready to figure himself out. He knows who he really is now-always did. He knows why they mocked him. But he didn’t have anything to fear anymore-he didn’t need to worry what anyone else thought. Tonight is his night to be true to himself. Maybe he will meet the love of his life or someone who understands him-a new friend, or maybe even his first real kiss…

But no. Not last night.

Last night. Dozens of men and women went out on a Saturday night. It just so happened to be a gay club. But they went for the same reason as any other…to find love, to dance, to have fun, to flirt, to escape from reality, to celebrate.

Last night, a monster decided to creep into their celebrations of love and life and courage.

Last night, dozens of people won’t wake up with hangovers or next to their one-night- stand or love of their life.

Last night…

Was their last night.

Please make the hate stop.

I am a happily married mother of five children. I fear for my children’s futures. We teach our children to love…no matter what your skin color is, or gender preference, or religion.

Last night, We were lucky. I went to bed with the love of my life after watching our favorite family show with our little ones, and then tucking them into to bed.

I woke up this morning next to my snoring husband, not realizing what had happened in the night…as we slept peacefully, the world was changing, yet again, forever.

Last night, too many beautiful souls went to Heaven together…almost all at once. They will be the reason we fight on.

They will make us persevere…

Last night must never happen again.

Potty Talk.

I feel like I lost my funny side.

So much heartache and sadness as of late seems to have made me not so funny.

Or maybe I never was funny…

I always thought I had a slightly humorous side to me, especially in a dark moment to bring some light.

But I am THAT girl…the one who always forgets the punch line…or the end of a knock knock joke.  Which seems to make my family and friends laugh more…I am the official spoiler of a good joke!

I may not be the next Ellen DeGeneres, but at least my kids are funny…and our son? Now HE is funny.

I won’t tell him this now, for fear he will be the class clown at a young age.

But he is also the only one that REALLY thinks I am funny, so he holds a special place in my heart for laughing at all things Mommy.

He is three and loves potty talk, so any word like fart/poop/butt make him roll on the floor with giggles…

My hubby, you would think some days, might be three as well…he also loves potty talk…he too will roll on the floor with laughter with fart jokes and poopy songs…

I, however, am not a huge fan of bathroom related humor.

I am the potty talk snob, I guess.

My three year old’s favorite word right now is “diarrhea”…which was probably learned from one of his father’s self-penned songs about bowel movements.

Our son literally will say the word diarrhea over…and over. AND over. To the point where yesterday, I pulled him aside and said this needs to stop. Mommy doesn’t like this word and potty talk is not nice…Your teacher next year will NOT be happy with potty talk…he laughed.

Am I surprised? Nope.

He has the unfortunate talent of twerking as well (his older sisters teaching him this as soon as he was able to walk) and now he has a growing audience of twelve cousins/siblings and all of their friends who laugh and post videos on social media at his antics. He breaks out the twerk dance moves and screams ” diarrhea-butthead-poopy face!!!” and makes them all start howling with laughter and pulling cell phones out to film for yet another snapchat story…he is breaking into the performing arts at a young age.

We are in trouble. BIG trouble.

I can hear my phone ringing in September…caller ID showing my son’s preschool number.

“He did WHAT?!! Noooo…not our little man. Are you sure?!!” Twerking on tabletops screaming DIARRHEA???!!!

Oh yes…that is my son (as my voice lowers to almost a whisper, full of embarrassment).

Did I say BIG trouble?

Nipping this one in the bud by the end of the summer…we will slowly fade out of potty talk and more into ABC’s and 123’s (or my hubby’s cell number will be first on the list for Emergency Contact Phone Numbers at preschool).

It feels good to write about something senseless…even though it may become a big problem for us as parents with a toddler who soaks up more trash talk than Spongebob.

Potty talk will probably always be hanging around this house since all of our kids have my husband’s sense of humor, thankfully. They are becoming pretty well-adjusted, well-mannered young people…and can still come home and left off some steam (or gas) with some good potty jokes with Dad…

There are bigger woes in life for us right now, and potty talk may not be appropriate, but if it makes them laugh right now…it can stay…

Until preschool starts.