October is Infant and Pregnancy Awareness Month. My beautiful daughter organized a community walk in remembrance of angel babies. She did a wonderful job, with a nice turnout of friends and family far and near thankful for the support and encouragement. She thoughtfully organized the event with small, but meaningful details.

I tried to support from afar...I fear I fell short of the mark with my meager efforts. I've read widely and am familiar with symbolic actions to release guilt, anger, grief or any crippling emotion, and I've always felt awkward enacting any such ritual. My release has always been in word more than actions. So, here is my attempt to capture the day; our balloon release for Baby Kenneth Michael Maurer.

Release

Pink and blue globes
Released with full hearts
Ascending slowly at first
Into the pure blue sky
Ribbon tail fluttering behind
Lifting our grief
As they float ever higher
They begin to race
And bump together joyously
Like children playing
A lightness envelopes
A peace alights
Upon us

Doorbell

My last visit to New York was a reluctant one. I wasn't sure whether I could make a difference, whether I was needed. I knew I must go, to just be there for my daughter. My own old feelings of not belonging, being on the outside, raised an ugly head. But this wasn't about me, so I pushed the feelings aside although I fought them the whole while there. I went to stand behind my daughter, just a presence for her to fall back on if needed. I quietly moved on the edge of grief, helping where I could, when and if needed. The doorbell rang constantly; friends with food in their hands and tears in their eyes. 

Now, the youngest grandchild rings the doorbell. He goes into the garage for whatever reason and becomes locked out; unable to open the door back into the house. Clad only in boots, no coat he scurries out and around the house to ring the doorbell. A different, happier surprise at the door. Both a blessing in the starkness of life.

Love is:

Good Housekeeping Magazine has a writing contest asking for stories expressing what love is...Most people probably think of all those happy occasions of celebrations. Love is so much more than that. Right now my perception of love is clouded in grief; we lost our newest grandson recently. Grief leaves you speechless. I remember a weekly newspaper cartoon that showed a cute little big-eyed baby, with a caption stating what love is, ie:  LOVE IS WET PUPPY KISSES. So, this is my attempt at expressing what love is, in poetry form. (Perfect medium for expressing our grief since the use of a few words carries so much meaning.)

Love is:
the privelage
to carry the seed of life
for 38 weeks
imagining his face
feeling his movements
his hiccups
his kicks
hearing his heartbeat
seeing evidence of his growth
in the expansion of
your middle
Love is:
the excitement
of preparing his place
his crib
his blanket
his clothes
Love is:
the anticipation
of his arrival
his introduction
to his brothers
and sister
Love is:
bestowing him
with Papa's name
to carry his memory
Love is:
the pain
of laying to rest
that child
that arrived without breath
Love is:
the strength
to go on
to live past
the empty space
he would've filled
Love is:
the loving arms
and prayers
and thoughts
of friends
and loved ones
who hold you up

Namesake

My Mama has many namesakes; there are many family members carrying her name. She left at a very young age;  My sister was the first to be bestowed with it; Karen Rose. My own daughter bears it also; Carrie Rose.  She brought beauty into my life when I thought I was ugly.  She's blossomed into a beautiful wife and mother, blessing me with more sunshine. The tradition is still alive, as our granddaughter carries her name as well; Makenzie Rose-our littlest Rosie.  Our newest grandson will be arriving soon, and he will bless many lives. He will bear his father's name, as well as his dearly loved grandfather (who also left us too soon). Hurry up little one. We need more sunshine.

A Tender Touch

I always visualized living near my children, just around the corner. I saw our home as a sanctuary for our grandkids. Our door would swing open, letting in the fresh air of youth and exuberance. I would drop whatever I was doing to shower them with love and attention. Spoil them rotten. It would be a place for them to escape their parents, and a reprieve for their parents for a few moments of peace. Life doesn't follow my wishes. I live more than 2500 miles from my loved ones. I visit once or twice a year. I fear they won't remember me, or feel the closeness I desire. This past Fall, I visited them for a glorious week of Autumn color. My daughter and the kids came to Syracuse to pick me up at the airport. Due to the late hour of my arrival, the kids stayed in the hotel while Carrie picked me up. Back in the hotel, I crawled into bed with my daughter and the littlest grandson. He stirred in his sleep and she reassured him that she was back. She added, "Gubba's here." He rolled and stretched toward me, reached up so tenderly and touched my face. It's been a team effort staying close. I guess we've managed.

A Pot of Butterfly Wings

Near the end of my most recent visit with my grandkids, the temperature dropped to 27*. My daughter brought a big pot of geraniums into the sun room for the night. The next morning, as I had my cup of chai latte, I noticed my youngest grandson carrying a small scrap of something red clutched in his fist. When I asked him what he had, he replied, "Butterfly!". He is just two years old, so I was surprised at his perception and wondered at his experience with butterflies. I cannot think of anything that so rightly describes that velvety petal. I think everyone should have a pot of butterfly wings on their windowsill.

New York

I visit my grandbabies every chance I get. They recently moved back to the North Country, upstate New York. Fall Break gave me the opportunity to visit them in their new home. I love upstate New York, and on my recent visit it presented itself in all its resplendent glory of Fall. I was enchanted with the falling leaves, fluttering in the golden sunshine on a gust of wind. I tried to capture it on a video with my phone-with no success. I was also enchanted with my two-year-old grandson. He speaks in 2 or 3 word sentences and makes himself well understood. What tickled me the most was his response when he is told "no": "OH MAN!" I laugh just thinking about him. Whenever I return home from one of my visits with my loved ones, I regret not having done all the things I intended to do with them while I was there. Then that leads me to a sadness that I don't live closer so that I can be a regular part of their lives. I dream of living just around the corner so they can walk over to see me anytime, and I would always have cookies ready for them...

Rainbows

Recently, I lost my little Yorkshire Terrier, Alvin. He was tiny, weighing only 3 lbs. He was over 13 years old and had been slowly declining. He didn't have any teeth any longer, no hearing or sight. I suspect he was also getting senile. He would scrabble around in the night, getting in the shower, or under the bed, and stuck in unimaginable places. I would have to get up in the middle of the night, rescue him, and put him back to bed. Then he didn't seem to like his own bed any longer. He would sleep in the other dogs beds, forcing them to sleep in his. His last night with us he was in a panic, breathing hard and running fast. I couldn't get him to settle down. I think he had a stroke. He passed away the next afternoon in my arms. He is buried in the backyard under the mesquite trees. He never complained. My cousin comforted me with these words, "That's why they can love so freely." It is monsoon season, with thunderstorms every afternoon or evening. I was hoping to see a rainbow for Alvin. A day later as we were shopping in town, my friend called to say that there was a huge rainbow that looked like it was right above my house. I ran out of the store and there it was, not only the one huge one, but a smaller, fainter one next to it. My husband and I both cried. Rainbows are said to be God's promise. Alvin's rainbow was a sign to me that he was at peace. I think grandchildren are like rainbows. They brighten our lives, and bring us joy. They are a promise that life continues through them. We will not be forgotten. They carry a part of us in them.

Favorite Books

We all have favorite books. Some we read over and over again. My son loved the Arthur books and read them so much he could recite them from memory. Our school hosts a Books R Fun book fair frequently. Books are my weakness. I always end up spending $50 or more every time we have the book fair. Being an avid reader myself, I'm always looking for good books to share with my grandkids. They all know they can count on getting new books from their Gubba. I found a lovely book called, "Tea for Ruby" by Sarah Ferguson. Ruby is a precocious little girl that receives an invitation to tea with the Queen. She is so ecstatic, she runs to tell everyone. In her enthusiasm, she bumps and tousles people and receives a scolding each time. As she dresses for the occasion, her mother reminds her to use her manners. The ending in the book surprises you with the real identity of the Queen. Ruby is a little lady and remembers her manners while having tea with the Queen. My granddaughter, Makenzie loves this book. It has become a tradition to read this book during every visit. I always call and build her anticipation by planning the things we will do together when we visit. Our tea Party is the highlight, with cookies we bake together. I always call her Ruby, and you guessed it, I am the Queen.

Reality Check

Returning home, we had just a few days to unpack, do laundry, and pack our bags for our next trip. We were off again for 4 days. I had a conference at the beautiful Loew's Ventana Canyon Resort. A few days after returning from the conference, our daughter called. I could hear the little ones playing in the background. She called Donnie over and asked if he wanted to talk to Gubba. He got on the line and said in a sad voice, "Pawpaw". He was already missing his Papa. My husband is quiet, and although loving with the grandkids, I am the one that plays with them. That was my reality check; I come in second to his Papa.

A Grand Entrance

As soon as school was out for the summer, we headed to New Mexico to visit our grandkids. All day long, my granddaughter asks, "When will they be here?" along with a slew of other questions. The trip takes us about 8 hours, and I think of them the whole time--except while I'm sleeping. When we arrived, there they all were standing at the open door waiting for us. After hugging and kissing everyone, I realized my little granddaughter was no where in sight. "There she is! Go get her!" my husband pointed to a pillar by the house. I took off running across the sidewalk on my 3" high sandals. Cutting through the grass, my foot slipped off the side of the sandal, and I knew I was going down. With nothing to grab onto, I fell face first into the grass, scaring my grandkids half to death. I lay there a minute, breathless, assessing any injuries. I rolled over to a circle of concerned faces staring down at me. The hilarity of it all hit me then and I lay there laughing to cover the pain. Needless to say, I spent the rest of the visit moving carefully around with a fractured rib, gulping Ibuprofen.

Growing Older, Staying Young

Since my last post, we've welcomed a newcomer to our family. He is now 18 months old, and I am experiencing my 14th year of grandparenting. My 57th birthday is fast approaching and is partially responsible for my lapse in keeping up with this blog. As my husband retires this month, we both are experiencing a paradigm in our roles, dreams, and views of life in our golden years. One of those realizations is that the young growing years are the most important for us to stay connected with our grandkids. While they are young, they look forward to our visits, and we enjoy watching them play and frolic around us. With the age span of our grandkids, we've already seen how quickly they grow. Soon enough the teenage years take them off on their own path of exploration, leaving us sitting alone in our rocking chairs. We are determined to keep each other moving, healthy, and young at heart. We will continue to enjoy our grandkids, as long as they have time for us old folks.

Playing on the Phone

This morning while I was talking with my daughter, I could hear my granddaughter sounding sad in the background. My daughter informed me that Kenzie couldn't find her little toy doggie. I teasingly said it ran away to my house, which brought her to the phone. I told her it was here visiting with my dog, Tasse but I would tell it to go home. "He'll be home soon. Maybe he's hiding in your closet." I played along. I wish I were there to play with her in person, but this was the next best thing.

Soft-hearted Sentiments

I am on the way home from visiting my older brother in Nevada. Ever since my granddaughter was born, he has made remarks that she has her whole life ahead of her and he may not be around much longer. This was the first time he met my husband and my son. I visited him 5 years ago and that was the first time I'd seen him in about 20 years. Knowing how quickly the years go by and how easily life gets in the way of our good intentions, motivates me to keep in touch with my grandkids. I hope time and life never get in the way...

Staying Connected

I've probably said this a million times, I always thought I'd be close by my kids and remain a part of their lives. Well, life has other plans. They grow up and move away, and if you are very lucky, they keep in touch. My daughter has done an excellent job of keeping me informed of their daily lives. That's the best part, the ordinary going-ons of their days. It helps me picture them there in their home. When she calls with a triumphant report of Kenzie's potty training, I hear her announce in the background, "I did it!". These little things she calls to tell me are 'big' things to me. I AM a part of their lives.

Treat Treasures

Packing for a visit with our grandkids always involves more than our personal items. I start months ahead of time collecting small gifts to take to them. Mostly books. The drive takes us about 8 to 10 hours depending how long our leg-stretch breaks take. I packed a cooler with bottles of water and our favorite Lipton Green Tea with Citrus. To minimize our stops and stave off hunger, I packed an eco-friendly grocery bag of snacks. When we arrived at our daughter's house, the bag was stashed in a corner in the kitchen. Our little granddaughter spent the whole weekend investigating the treats in that bag, each day discovering something new to taste. She'd alternately beg or sneak a bite of CHEEZ-ITs, or Reese's Pieces. Fortunately, there were still a few items left for us to munch on our return trip. When we got back home and started unpacking, I found a tiny Barbie Doll blouse in the bag--evidence of Kenzie's treat raids during our visit. Was she sharing her special things with us? Or was she insuring our return? No doubt about it, the summer cleaning projects can wait. We are already planning our return visit to meet our new grandbaby in October.

Too Big for Kisses

At the end of our Memorial weekend visit with our grandkids, I scooped up first my granddaughter then my grandson and kissed up each cheek. Little Makenzie giggled through it, and Cedric smiled. He's getting close to being too big for kisses. He tolerates it with smiles because he sees us only twice, sometimes three times a year. If we lived close by I probably wouldn't get away with it. That last night, my husband stayed up late. I hugged Ced goodnight and felt his little warm body. I teased him that he should come to bed with me to be my heater, since Papa was staying up. After I dressed for bed, Cedric came quietly in and asked if I really wanted him to sleep with me until Papa came to bed. He promised Papa he'd wake up and go to his bed on the couch when he was ready to come to bed. He is eleven, and a half. I guess he's not too big for kisses from Gubba.

Book Talk

We're visiting our grandkids for this Memorial Weekend. I brought books for the kids. I always bring books. Books for me to read, and books for gifts for them. Always books. I guess it's a grandma's job. The title of one book is "Grandma and Me". It's a lift-the-flap book. It begins by asking Who's at the door. You guessed it, it's grandma and she brought books. As we sat visiting, my granddaughter asked if she could have some Cheese-its we brought with us. I teased her that she could only have one. She said, "Only one, not too much." She kept jabbering something. My daughter explained it's a book they read. They held this whole book talk. She made a connection from one word in our conversation to a book she reads regularly with mom. Two and a half and she loves reading. She'll sit and read the new books over and over. Since I got here we've read the books twice. After each one she says, "What next?" That's the best thing about books, there is always another to read.

The Balancing Act

This coming weekend we will be on the road again. We'll be visiting our beautiful grandkids. My little granddaughter is two and a half and as cute as can be. She gets lots of attention. My grandson is eleven and can entertain himself. I always worry that I will lavish all my attention on my granddaughter and neglect my grandson. Babies naturally get all the attention. I am determined to balance my attention equally between the two of them this time. We'll be visiting them again in October, after the new baby arrives. Then there will be three grandkids to shower with attention. I hope I learn this balancing act by then.

Little Concerns

Yesterday I called my daughter and a little voice picked up. It was my little granddaughter, Makenzie. She jabbered something that my daughter translated a few minutes later as, "I got a Happy Meal. I didn't get a Shrek." How often in life do we anticipate one thing and get another. It won't be the first or only time for her. We spend so much time wanting, stressing, worrying over these little concerns. We miss the little surprises that pop in their place. LIke the Pinnochio toy she got instead of Shrek. An opportunity to fall in love with a different Disney character. He happens to be my favorite.