I Called Her Grandma

We lost my grandma.  Almost 2 years to the day after my grandpa passed. 

This is the poem I wrote for the service. Hokey poems were my grandpa's thing. I wrote one for him so I felt it only fitting to write one for her as well. Of course, I won't be reading it myself because I'll be a blubbering mess.

I Called Her Grandma

Some folks called her Lillie
Others called her Maye
I called her my grandma
I am very pleased to say

My kids called her MeeMaw
She was so proud of those boys
She really loved to show them off
It brought her such great joy

Still others called her their Sister,
Auntie, Granny or their Mom
There were so many names
By which she had been known

Whatever it was you called her
I’m sure, like me, you will miss
Her sweet laugh (with that tremble)
And her wet, sloppy kiss

She is in a better place right now
At peace with others who she loved
It is a comfort knowing
She is with the Lord above

Some folks called her Lillie
Others called her Maye
But to me she was Grandma
And I’d have it no other way

Curses, Foiled Again!

It seems like every time I make big plans to get things done, something gets in the way.  Do you ever feel that way?

I have been working very hard to declutter my house and, as part of that goal, keep my laundry done. To that end, I spent Sunday morning gathering and sorting all the dirty clothes.  I got the first load started and sat down to enjoy my recorded episode of Smallville.

A few minutes into the show, I heard what sounded like water splashing on the floor. I ran into the laundry room to find that the washer drain was overflowing onto the floor. I stopped the washer and ran to the backyard to find Phone Guy. As I passed the kitchen sink, I noticed that it was full of soapy water. Nice.

Phone Guy determined that there was a clog in the drain (duh!) somewhere passed the laundry room and proceeded to work on it, and (after only one trip to The Home Depot) got it unclogged.  Thank goodness I married a handy man!  I’m sure having the plumber out on Sunday wouldn’t have been cheap.

Of course, the clog-induced delay put a crimp in my plans to get all of the laundry done.  I still have 3 or 4 loads to do.  But I guess since I also had a sick kid all day yesterday, I’ll be home from work with him and free to spend time doing laundry today. Oh joy!

The Bright Spot of my Day

I am babysitting my neighbor’s kids.  They are extremely loud, terribly bossy, crazy wild, and absolutely precious 3 and 4 year olds.  My heart melts every time one of their tiny voices says, “Look at me Mama Debbie” or “See what I got Mama Debbie.”

After such a disappointing, depressing day, they are making me smile…a lot.

Prejudice – It’s Not Just for White People Anymore

Our school district has been realigned for next year.  The Pleaser’s two best friends live in different areas than we do and the three boys are districted to three different schools according to the new plan.  They were given the option to stay in their current school for next year and The Pleaser insisted on the transfer because he assumed his other friends would do the same.  This means we won’t have bus service and I’ll have to resume the Mom Taxi next year.  But I’m willing to do that for him so he can stay with his friends.  I’ve already filled out the paperwork and sent it in.

Today he told me one of the boys (his very best friend) has decided not to transfer because there are “too many Blacks and Mexicans” in the current school.  Now this boy is Mexican.  I mean, his parents were born in Mexico and immigrated here.  He and his siblings are the first generation of his family not born in Mexico. 

They seem like wonderful people.  They have 3 children who are all excellent students and, better yet, nice kids.  They are very involved with their kids and never miss a school event.  My son has spent the night at their house and gone with them to the movies.  He’s played video games at their house.  I can’t help but wonder how they would feel if I told my son that he couldn’t go to school there because there were too many Mexicans.  Would they be offended?  Would they allow their son to continue being friends with my son? 

Of course I would never do that.  We live in a very diverse neighborhood and my kids grew up in a very diverse elementary school and I believe that they are better, more tolerant individuals for it. They each have friends of many different races and religions and I am glad that they don’t see color as a barrier.

The Pleaser is completely devastated that he won’t be in the same school as his very best friend anymore…and I am devastated for him.

It’s the perfect end to an extraordinarily disappointing day.

Disappointed

(dis-uh-poin-tid)

–adjective

depressed or discouraged by the failure of one's hopes or expectations

 

That’s how I feel today.