My grandmother died on December 22, the other week, just 2 days before my 44th birthday. It was not a huge surprise, she'd been put in hospice care the previous week and was 95, but it just broke my heart. She was my last surviving grandparent, I lived with her for a while, and I credit all of my talents to her and her sisters. I volunteered to write something for her memorial service this coming Saturday, but I just don't know where to start. She taught me to sew, what I do pretty much every day and for my own business, not to mention my sanity, and she is probably the reason I love pink so much. When she first sold her house and moved into assisted living I made it a point to wear pink every day for a really long time. It was her favorite color, especially in flowers.
I remember the feel of the velvet of the couch in her living room in Texas. I remember the blades of grass in her backyard, almost double, and I can't remember the name of it.
There was a pull-up bar on one of the big trees back there that my grandfather used. It was grown into the tree.
When my grandparents celebrated their 50th anniversary with a party at their church I wore her wedding dress, that she made. It is white and has tiny buttons all the way down the front and a little train. She was taller than I am, so the waist is at least an inch lower than it should be. I have that dress in a closet upstairs, and the original pattern is in my studio downstairs.
The room that used to be my mom's and my aunt's had really soft blankets and sheets with really big butterflies and little dressing tables built into the wall. My parents used to sleep in there when we all visited, but when my brother and I lived with them for a while it was my room. It was right next to the pink-tiled bathroom that had these little houses that they brought back from vacations in Bermuda. I thought that it was so exotic that they'd go on vacation and have to fly through the Bermuda Triangle to get where they were going. Those little houses had pink roofs. The room with the butterfly blankets had a table with one of those pop-up sewing machines. My grandmom taught me to sew on that. It was green. She was an amazing quilter, actually did most of her sewing by hand, but we made a beautiful white eyelet dress for a junior high dance on that machine. It had pink ribbon woven through it and Brooke Shields was the model for the pattern photo. I thought I would deep the dress forever, but it must have gotten lost during one of my many moves through all those years.
Today my aunt, my mom's sister, emailed me to tell me that my grandmother's next door neighbor in Texas bought her old sewing machine, the one she taught me to sew on, because she "didn't want it to be sold to a stranger." She had a new one and never used it, but she bought it anyway. She still has it and will be on it's way to me later this week. I don't care if it's hokey sounding, but that makes me happier and calmer than I can put into words. Maybe I'll just write about sewing. The minister will have to read it thought, because I am pretty much known as a big cryer.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Phasing Out the Crazy
Happy New Year! I am not a big one for New Year's resolutions, but I do believe in it being a good time to take stock and remind myself of what is working and what is not in my life and if I am truely living it the way that I want to live. One thing that I have gotten myself sucked into during the past year is a bunch of craziness and drama. I take responsibility for that, as I have not put my foot down or refused to get involved, but honestly, sometimes I just do not know how. I do not want to hurt anyone's feelings, I want to be supportive, or I just do not want to make waves. I admit, I can be a bitch at times, but when confronted with a friend or family member's constant drama I just do not know what to do. It is easy to tell someone else to just draw the line or refuse to engage, but it is much harder to actually do yourself.
There is a person in my life who has a reoccurring issue with prescription drugs. She is not a close friend or immediate family member, but being married to an extended family member means that I do see her fairly regularly. When she is not too stoned to show-up at family functions, of course, though she does arrive slurring and babbling,when she does come. It has gotten to where no one is ignoring it anymore, which took a ridiculously long time (years and years), but now that it is pretty much out in the open she has decided that I am the one that she wants to confide in.
By confide, I mean calling/texting me multiple times a day but never being available when it I am able to talk. Or trying to pull me aside at family get-togethers to talk. By talk, I mean make excuses and blame everyone but herself. I honestly do not know how to handle it. A few years ago I stepped in and insisted that she get help, and it backfired. No one else said a word, and I ended-up being the bad guy. That's ok, it's about trying to get her help, not about me, but I just do not want to do that again.
I am just afraid to tell her that while she says that she is going to meetings, etc, she still needs to not make excuses and blame her doctors, her pain, etc, for her abuse of drugs. I want to tell her that she needs to talk to a shrink, not her sister-in-law, that it is just too uncomfortable of a situation. I feel badly for her because she seems to have no one. Her mother won't deal with it, her husband is at the end of his rope, and she seems to have driven all of her friends away. It is exhausting and draining.
I know that this afternoon she will try to take me away from the get-together and cry about how no one is supporting her and how her doctors are to blame, etc, and I will be a deer in headlights. I need to tell her that I called her yesterday exactly when she told me would be a good time, that she didn't answer or call me back, and that this is not an apropriate time to talk. I need to tell her that I want to be supportive but I am not comfortable being her confidant because of our husbands being brothers. I need to tell her that I am proud of her for attending meetings and encourage her to see a therapist. I know that she will get upset, and I just have a hard time with that. I don't want her to feel alone, but I cannot be the one responsible for her. I just can't do it.
There is a person in my life who has a reoccurring issue with prescription drugs. She is not a close friend or immediate family member, but being married to an extended family member means that I do see her fairly regularly. When she is not too stoned to show-up at family functions, of course, though she does arrive slurring and babbling,when she does come. It has gotten to where no one is ignoring it anymore, which took a ridiculously long time (years and years), but now that it is pretty much out in the open she has decided that I am the one that she wants to confide in.
By confide, I mean calling/texting me multiple times a day but never being available when it I am able to talk. Or trying to pull me aside at family get-togethers to talk. By talk, I mean make excuses and blame everyone but herself. I honestly do not know how to handle it. A few years ago I stepped in and insisted that she get help, and it backfired. No one else said a word, and I ended-up being the bad guy. That's ok, it's about trying to get her help, not about me, but I just do not want to do that again.
I am just afraid to tell her that while she says that she is going to meetings, etc, she still needs to not make excuses and blame her doctors, her pain, etc, for her abuse of drugs. I want to tell her that she needs to talk to a shrink, not her sister-in-law, that it is just too uncomfortable of a situation. I feel badly for her because she seems to have no one. Her mother won't deal with it, her husband is at the end of his rope, and she seems to have driven all of her friends away. It is exhausting and draining.
I know that this afternoon she will try to take me away from the get-together and cry about how no one is supporting her and how her doctors are to blame, etc, and I will be a deer in headlights. I need to tell her that I called her yesterday exactly when she told me would be a good time, that she didn't answer or call me back, and that this is not an apropriate time to talk. I need to tell her that I want to be supportive but I am not comfortable being her confidant because of our husbands being brothers. I need to tell her that I am proud of her for attending meetings and encourage her to see a therapist. I know that she will get upset, and I just have a hard time with that. I don't want her to feel alone, but I cannot be the one responsible for her. I just can't do it.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Day #1- NYC Marathon 2011 Was This Morning.
I put my name in the lottery for the ING New York Marathon for 3 years in a row, so this year was my 4th so I was automatically given a spot. Fast forward a few months, and I clicked on the button to postpone my spot until 2012. It was the right decision, too many stresses/changes/cases of pneumonia to do it all, but I can't help but feel that I've let myself down. I started the year so motivated. What the hell happened?
It's such a cliche that moms need to spend time taking care of themselves, not put themselves last, blah blah blah, but that can be easier said than done. My life is no harder than anyone else's, but it's my life, and it is hard to me to do everything. Including running on top of everything else.
I feel so good when I run, even when I think I might throw-up. It is the only time I can be all alone, without looking at the piles of laundry, the dirty carpet, the kitchen that could be cleaner, the kids clothes that are just about out-grown, or the mountains of work that I need to do for my own business. It is the only time I feel relaxed and not stressed. OK, now that I've reminded myself of that, I am going to drop J off at the birthday party and go running. I'm lucky that it's a sunny and relatively warm day here in Michigan, and I can run in the town where the party is instead of the same old route.
Be back soon.
It's such a cliche that moms need to spend time taking care of themselves, not put themselves last, blah blah blah, but that can be easier said than done. My life is no harder than anyone else's, but it's my life, and it is hard to me to do everything. Including running on top of everything else.
I feel so good when I run, even when I think I might throw-up. It is the only time I can be all alone, without looking at the piles of laundry, the dirty carpet, the kitchen that could be cleaner, the kids clothes that are just about out-grown, or the mountains of work that I need to do for my own business. It is the only time I feel relaxed and not stressed. OK, now that I've reminded myself of that, I am going to drop J off at the birthday party and go running. I'm lucky that it's a sunny and relatively warm day here in Michigan, and I can run in the town where the party is instead of the same old route.
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