birthday boys

I’m a grandmother.  It’s still kind of weird to say, even eight years later.  I love, love, LOVE my grandkids… (Micah and Jonah, 8 and Jeremiah, 5) but the word “grandma” doesn’t gel with my self-image.  Grandma to me is my grandmother – a white-haired, soft-skinned, older lady who wore loose dresses  and flat shoes, and worked in the garden and baked every day.  She was sweet, quiet and very hard-working, but I wouldn’t have described her as youthful or vibrant or passionate, or several of the other adjectives I hope apply to me.

Be that as it may, I am blessed beyond measure to have three beautiful grandsons, two of whom turned eight today (technically yesterday since it’s past midnight as I type.)  They are truly brilliant, but I’m not going to do the grandma thing and brag.  They’re also creative and funny and kind and caring.  They are the people who make my heart feel like pudding and make my face incapable of doing anything but smiling.  Now I understand all the cliches about grandparents spoiling kids – something about grandkids takes the ability to say “no” right out of you.  Nothing matters but seeing them light up with happiness.

One of the most difficult things I have had to deal with in my life is living several hundred miles from my family for the last five years.  It has been a growing experience for me in many ways, but certainly not one I would have chosen, and one that has cost me very dearly.  Seeing my grandsons grow up so much between my visits and knowing how much I was missing has been excruciatingly painful.  Thank God for the internet, where pictures are so readily available, and my son keeps a Twitter account for the sole purpose of posting the amazing and funny things the boys say.

A few of my favorites:

“This is the lowest form of entertainment I have ever experienced.” Micah, 7, in regards to his brother’s singing.

“God has one of the most perfect voices I know.” – Jonah. “Oh! And Martin Luther King!” – Micah

Micah: “Mom? Mom? Mom? Could you pause your book and focus? I think an earwig has crawled into my brain”… (A few minutes later) “Why are you not taking care of this? Don’t you care that I might die? WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING? This is a serious earwig problem!”… (A few minutes later) That’s it. I’m going to die. I’m going to go watch a movie until it happens. I’ll let you know when the earwig kills me.”

Neither of those bunnies have a uterus. That relationship is not going to work out. -Micah

Micah: “Dad, your armpits smell good. It’s a good, manly smell.”

Jonah, at Petco: “Hey, mom & dad. I was thinking we should really buy a turtle. Because I already named a turtle.”

Micah, trying out his best lines on cute new girl, “Hey! Do you want to hear Einstein’s theory of relativity?!” #pickuplinesforgeniuskids

Jonah: “You know when you laugh so hard you get peeish?” Micah: “What the heck is peeish?” Jonah: “You know… like Irish??”

“Dad, I have a hypophesis…” – Jeremiah, 5

“Haha! This music is hilarious.” – Jonah, 7 in response to the soft rock of 70’s era Rod Stewart.

“Sighhhh… I’m never going to get my drivers license.” – Jeremiah, 5

Happy birthday to the ones who have brought me and many others so very much happiness.  Micah and Jonah, you are honestly the coolest 8-year-olds I know.

 

i think it’s the meds

I’ve been kind of a mess today.  I’m blaming it on the meds.  I’m very restless and can’t really relax.  I keep crying at everything and nothing.  I cried twice at Dancing With The Stars, and I don’t even care about who’s on it this season.  It’s not like Donny Osmond is dancing or anything.  I’m just watching for Sam, because some wrestler is dancing.  (Ok, I know it’s Chris Jericho, but I’m too cool to know professional wrestlers, come on!)

I cried about my scans today.  I cried when we got to the hospital and found out that my blood count was low (actually the lowest it has been yet) and I would have to get two more shots – even though this was basically a given.  I cried when I found out my doctor was sick and I wouldn’t get to see her to hear about my results.  I cried on the way home from the hospital because I miss my family.

Bingo.

I miss my family.  I haven’t seen anyone (well, except Sam, of course – I live with him!) since Christmas.  Going through all of this has made it even more clear how important these precious people are to me.  Video chatting a few nights ago when everybody was at  my parents’ house made me feel so distant from them all.  The visceral need to put my arms around my children has been an ache inside me.  The desire to be comforted by my mommy’s arms is almost as strong.  My ears need the laughter of my grandchildren.  I am a deeply family-oriented woman, separated from the ones I love.  It’s a very frustrating, painful situation.

I have, by any possible account, an incredible family.  In an age of dysfunction, divorce, desertion and disrepair, I somehow managed to come from a family that actually loves each other.  I hear so many people talk about holidays and family events with dread and sarcasm.  We honestly enjoy them.  Really!  Nobody gets drunk, fights or storms out in anger.  Nobody even makes snarky comments.  The worst that happens is that the twins and Jeremiah eat WAY too much sugar (which they usually get almost none of) and get very crazy.  But good crazy, if you get me.

My parents have been married for over 50 years, and are still in love.  My mom is universally described as “the nicest person I know”, and my dad is a good man – really, a good man.  My oldest brother is one of the people I admire most in the world.  He is kind, intelligent, and lives his faith better than anyone I know.  My sister is one of my very best friends, and would be if we weren’t related.  When I was going through some of the lowest points of my life, she literally called me every day, just to make sure I was ok, to say she loved me, to be there.  She is so strong and has done things in her life I know I could never handle, and I look up to her.   My youngest brother is brilliant, funny, a bit cynical, and wonderful.  I am so blessed to be part of this family – and having cancer, realizing that life is finite and so uncertain, makes every day I’m away from them and from my wonderful children and grandchildren harder and harder.

Marky & Courtney

Super grandkids

My Family - Cheri, Tim, Mom, Dad, Me, Dave

I’m sure I’ll be better tomorrow.  I won’t be crying all day.  I’ll still miss my family – that’s not going to change.  But I pray and hold onto God for strength – and the great thing is that the weaker I am, the stronger he is in me.   So he must be really strong today.

But I still think it’s the meds…

look boys, no hair!

Last night I got to do one of my favorite things: I had a video chat with my grandsons.  (7-year-old twins & a 5-year-old)

Jonah, Micah, Jeremiah

Now, this is nowhere as great as actually being with them and having them hug all over me, and all talk at once, and shove each other out of the way, and compete for attention… well, come to think about it, the only real difference is the hugs.

Video chat is much better than phone for the obvious reason – picture.  However, we had not had a video chat since my hair came out, so this chat had some interesting differences from our usual conversations about school, video games, and funny faces (usually involving some configuration of tongues being stuck out and eyes being pulled painfully down with fingers).

green knit cap

At the start of the chat I had my favorite little green knit cap on.  I talked to each of the twins for a short time and they didn’t notice anything different.  However, they are often pretty distracted by the picture-in-picture of themselves, and only look at me occasionally, unless I am showing them something amazing like a water bottle or the inside of the refrigerator.  My son, the boys’ dad, asked them to all come by the computer together and listen to me.  This was unusual enough that they all sat quietly, realizing that something different was happening.

I told them, “We just found out recently that I have a sickness called lymphoma.  The really good news is that I am going to be ok.  But, it will take a while and I need to take some very strong medicine to get rid of the sickness, and this medicine can do some strange things while I’m taking it.  One of the things it does is make my hair fall out, so your Nana is bald now.”  Well, of course they wanted to see, so I popped the cap off, and under the overhead light, my head, now just barely fuzzy, shone like Mr. Clean.

Mr. Clean!

There are some things you can’t teach, they are just inside people or they aren’t.  Within one second of seeing my bald head, three little voices spoke at once, “I like you just the same, Nana”, “You’re still pretty, Nana”, “Nana, I love you anyway, it doesn’t matter.”  I was touched and blessed by the loving words, but twice as touched and blessed to see once again the loving hearts of my grandsons.

Then, of course, there were lots of questions.  Will it grow back?  Why did it fall out?  Am I sure I will be better?  They wanted to see me in my wig, which did pass their fashion approval test. Eventually Micah, who has always been my cuddler, said, “I don’t like this.  It feels like a dream.”  His dad and I talked to him a little more about how sometimes surprising things happen that feel strange, but the important thing was that I would be ok.  Micah said, “This has definitely been an unexpected Tuesday.”  Kid really cracks me up.    We all said goodnight, and honest little Jeremiah, the five-year-old, closed out by saying, “But I did like your hair last time better.”  So did I, Jeremiah.  But it will come back.

the hair last time

Parents rejoice when their children turn out well; wise children become proud parents.
So make your father happy! Make your mother proud!  Proverbs 23:24-25  MSG