Tag: Grandkids

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Sometimes…

I’m fond of typing here that “sometimes the universe provides”. By that I mean that often times in the past, when I’m stumped about what to write, something, somewhere happens that triggers something for me. And I spin out a thousand words or so based on that, whatever it may be. I’ve been working on a piece to put up here for a few days now, and it hasn’t been an easy write for me.

And then, about 45 minutes ago, I got a phone call from the Oldest One, She was very upset. As I was cycling through in my mind what might have happened to get her so upset, and landing on a handful of things (that’s kinda the way my mind works I guess) she told me one of the Heir To The Throne’s childhood friends was killed in a car crash last night.

She didn’t really know any details, she had just gotten the call alerting her about it immediately before calliing me, but she told me she didn’t know how to tell HTTT and wanted him to know before he saw it on social media. Which is, of course, a perfectly reasonable response. So I told her I’d make the call if she couldn’t. She agreed but said she wanted to be conferenced in to the call.

So I called him. And I told him. In an intentionally dispassionate voice. Because, even though the boys had grown apart over the years, they were still on good terms. And because, even though he’s had to deal with a lot of loss of loved ones in the course of his young life, it’s not an easy thing to hear, ever. It’s not that I didn’t care about HTTT’s friend, I always found him to be a very likable, somewhat goofy, and charming kid. He was also the only one of HTTT’s circle that callled me Papa. And he always did. If I showed up at one of their ballgames, whenever he saw me he’d call out “Hi Papa!” and was genuinely happy to see me.

So, knowing HTTT was at work, I tried to be as calm as I could be, knowing he would probably not be in a place where he would feel comfortable letting his emotions go. I’m not going to go into any greater detail than that now. Since this is all flowing pretty quickly in the aftermath, I won’t have time to let him proof this and see if he’s good with it. So I’ll leave this part of it here.

But really, how do you tell someone you love that someone has died?

I’ll always remember telling my then three year-old grandson that his Nana was gone. Vividly. Sitting cross-legged on the floor of a room in my niece’s house, trying to explain to him that he’d never see the Nana that he adored, and that worshipped him, again. And that she was now with Aunt Caitlin. I used to tell that story at Victim Impact Panels and it was not at all unusual, even after telling it hundreds of times, for me to cry as I tried to relate what that was like. Telling him that was difficult, maybe the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. And it’s not that this time was easy, I’m not trying to compare the two, it’s just that after we got off the phone I did nothing but second guess myself over my phone call.

I’m rarely at a loss for words, it’s true. But I can’t shake the feeling that I failed him as a support person in this moment. I told him to call or text whenver he wanted, but…

So, I sit here at the computer; listening to “God” by John Lennon on a loop. And I think about the morning I got up for work to this song and listened in stunned disbelief as Terri Hemmert told her audience that Lennon had been murdered late the night before. And I think about how the dream is over for a family, a group of friends, so many people that were a part of this young man’s life for twenty years and I know that their dream is over. Dreams of a long, happy life. Dreams of children or grandchildren. Dreams that we all have for our loved ones.

Hold the ones you love tightly, often.

Tell them you love them, often.

Do nice things for them, for no reason, often.

And, when they want to do nice things for you, let them.

Because sometimes the universe is an asshole.

Peace.

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They Came (and are coming) From Afar

First things first…

This past Sunday marked two years since my last day in the firehouse. Where does the time go? I mean, it does, what it does, marches on, but still. Two years have flown by. And, I must say, I’ve enjoyed almost every single minute of it. We’ve had bumps in the road, of course, everyone does, but all in all, I still highly recommend retirement.

So as you’re all well aware, I’m nothing if not a smooth segueist (I think I just invented that word btw) and as I find myself in the midst of a visitor-y part of the year, I must point out here that the first of the visitors came from the aforementioned firehouse. Last week TJ and Bob (or Bob and TJ if you prefer) came out for a visit. We had a great time, I got caught up on most if not all of the shenanigans that tend to take place around a firehouse, introduced the fellas to some excellent examples of southern dining, showed off the highly regarded NC Zoo (more on that in a bit) and in what was maybe the high point of my year so far, was treated to some of Bob’s home-made deep-dish Chicago-style pizza. In fact, I’m not sure what was better; actually eating the pizza or the warm fuzzy feeling I got when, as we were unloading their bags from the car they mentioned that Bob brought along the stuff he needed to make me a pizza. And I’m not even joking about that. It truly was the coolest feeling to know they thought enough of this old retired guy to bring a taste of homemade home out to me. The pizza was, not surprisingly, wonderful. Pizza notwithstanding, Wednesday may well have been our best food day. I took them to Lexington, NC for some authentic western North Carolina BBQ served up with local slaw and hush puppies. We ate way too much. Then that evening I took them to a place here in Asheboro, Magnolia 23, for some down home, southern style soul food. TJ had Chicken Pie and I wish I knew how to describe it to you but it tasted wonderful. Bob and I each had Fried Chicken and it was really top notch. All of the food is prepared from recipes passed down from the owners mothers. We gorged ourselves almost to the point of regret, but it was too good to push back from the table. Speaking of which, we followed that up with a short walk to (lol) The Table, the local bakery/coffeehouse/restaurant for dessert and coffee. My choice of restaurants was very well received, so yay me.

A few days or so before the boys arrived, I got a text from TJ asking if there was a zoo close by me. I said there was and that we could certainly go check it out. Neither of them struck me as “zoo guys” necessarily, but hey, who am I to judge? Besides, I didn’t really have a solid plan in place for entertaining them and the zoo is a good way to spend a day here. A couple days later I got another text telling me they had gotten an AirBnB in town, to which I responded with something along the lines of “You fine gentlemen will do nothing of the sort.” *hint* the real version had a lot more profanity. Long story short I told them they were staying with me and not to waste their money. Based on my interpretation of our conversation (you would think red flags would have started waving in my brain, but, well, me) on Tuesday we walked around the zoo for several hours in 90ยบ heat, sweating profusely. The next evening, as we were chatting in my carport, letting our too large meal digest, the conversation turned to my surprise that there was actually an AirBnB in Asheboro. TJ informed me it was near the zoo. And that was why he had asked about its proximity to me. Insert stupid face >here< but at least it confirmed my hunch that neither of them are particularly “zoo guys”

The final part of my visitor-palooza starts this afternoon when the Quiet Child arrives with the Boy Genius and the Reigning Princess. To say I’m looking forward to seeing them is a gross understatement of epic proportions. I just checked their status (technology is occasionally my friend) and they’re about four hours out, so woohoo! We’re going to check out the Civil Rights Museum in Greensboro and maybe a couple other civil rights sites in the area. There’s a rich history in this part of the state for the many battles waged back in the 60’s to end segregation and Jim Crow laws and I’m happy to share those things. We’ll wrap their visit up with a couple days out at Carolina Beach. With no hurricanes in the forecast, it should be really nice.

So, with that, I’m going to hit the “Publish” button and go run a couple last-minute errands before they get here.

Peace

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Time

As I looked back through some of my posts over the last couple years, and thinking about some that I put up on the old site, I realized that so many have titles relating to the passing of time. This is, of course, a recognition on my part of the course my family’s lives have taken over the last 16+ years. As I was chatting with the Oldest One on our daily phone call as she makes her way home from work, we talked about today (since we talked yesterday, it was actually tomorrow then…) and, as I’ve written before, today is unalterably the most bittersweet of days. We celebrate the birthday of the youngest grandchild while acknowledging another year since Diane died.

To be honest, when I sat down yesterday to work on this, my first thought was to just do some cursory introduction-type thing and then put in an excerpt from what I’ve previously written about Diane and Caitlin. After I ruled that out I thought maybe I’d just re-post a piece I’d written on an earlier August 21st.

Neither of those things felt right as I looked at them (the posts) more closely, and the more I considered it, the more I knew the day deserved its own post.

So here goes.

As the Little Diamond gets older, I want to make sure she knows the Grandma she never got the chance to know. I mean, obviously, I want all of the grandkids to know her; the Reigning Princess shares some of her personality traits after all. The Heir To the Throne and the Boy Genius, while maybe not remembering her, at least had moments with her. Moments saved on film (or, you know, digitally) that the three younger ones never will have. So, while I don’t want to gloss over the other littles, because of the connection inherent in their “shared” date, it’s important to me that LD knows her Grandma. I know they would’ve been fast friends, LD has some of Ellie’s personality and she and Diane had a pretty solid relationship, after a time. I think, Diane would’ve been in on the Jojo Siwa phenomenon too. Maybe not to the point of wearing bows and/or unicorn headbands herself but, yeah, she would’ve loved taking LD shopping for Jojo-wear at the drop of a hat. I know her heart would have been so full watching the first dance recital last spring too, just for one example.

Quick side story, one of my favorite Diane/Grandma Ellie stories at that. When the Boy Child was in the Army he bought his first new car; a Jeep Wrangler. He really enjoyed driving it with the doors off and the top down. As you might imagine, this made for a pretty windy trip wherever you were going. Diane was pretty particular about her hair. I don’t mean to say she was obsessive about it or anything, but she always looked pretty dialed in before she left the house. One day, while I was at the firehouse, the two of them got in his Jeep and went for a ride. Someone else was with them, but I’m drawing a blank on who it was. And since that part isn’t germane to the story, I’ll leave it at that. Since it was a forty-five-ish minute drive from the house in Wondertucky (not the town’s real name) to the Greater Burlington Metropolitan (all 500 citizens) area to say they were a little windblown is an understatement of epic proportions. To further set the scene, Mom’s eyesight wasn’t stellar by this point in her life. As I wrote about on the old site after her passing, it wasn’t so bad that she wouldn’t point out (real or imagined) road hazards; other cars, dogs, deer, tractors, you get the idea, but it was bad enough that she wouldn’t always see faces clearly unless they got really close. So, when they stopped in for a visit, and the Boy Child greeted her with a typical “Hi Gram!” her response was an enthusiastic “Hi Ryan! Who’s your friend?”

We all had a good laugh about that one, and reminded Ellie about it from time to time. And it’s actually memories like that one that have helped soften the loss as the years have passed. It also feels a lot healthier mentally to laugh about our past than it does to weep over it. Kind of a celebrate what you had versus mourning what you lost perspective. I’ll always be able to connect with the last days. But I try really hard not to tap into that. Especially since I’m no longer doing VIP’s. I felt like ripping open that particular vein and bleeding on the stage helped get my point across. Now that I’m done with that part of my life, my grief can finally mellow. It will never go away completely but it allows me to live a normal-ish life.

Well this is starting to take a turn on me, so let me try and get back to where I was originally headed with this thing. I FaceTimed with the Little Diamond and her Daddy this morning, and she told me they were going to the coffeehouse and then the play place. I’m fairly certain there are (were) bunny cookies and a cupcake in her future. As there should be on a birthday, amirite?

Sweetie, I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. But one day I’ll sit you down and show you pictures of an amazing woman. I’ll explain to you how she was the life of every party she attended. I’ll explain to you how much she meant to, not just our family, but through her advocacy work, to people she barely knew. I’ll explain to you how much she would have loved spoiling you, and your big brother, and your cousins if she’d had the chance. And maybe one day you’ll understand why sometimes, on your birthday, I get a little tear in my eye.

Happy birthday sweetie, I love you!

Peace

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Random Conversations With A Three Year Old – Wrapping Up

In order to wrap this up, I’ve got two updates on my time hanging out with the 3 year-old. I mentioned in an earlier post that after our stop at the coffeehouse we head to a local park for play time. Unless it’s raining, in which case (the first time anyway) we went to a well known, franchised, hamburger place. She got a meal that made her “Happy” (lulz) and played for quite a while on the indoor playground. The next time it rained, as I GTS’d a somewhat less Golden Arch-y place to go, she very helpfully suggested we might try visiting Disney World. Taking that advice under consideration (not really) I continued my interwebz search and found a spot, very close by called Kinderland. Can I just say that this little indoor playground is right in the wheelhouse for three year-old grandchildren of mine? Slides, a ball pit, swings, stuff to climb on, a plethora of options all geared to preschool aged kids. And to top it off they have Nutella To Go packs! As I mentioned in my first post about hanging with a three year-old, she’s a big fan of Nutella, so this place is like pure win for her.

And since we’re talking about food (can I segue like a boss or what?) let me just say the Little Diamond is a confirmed grazer. Like three breakfasts, two lunches, a dinner and a snack is not an uncommon day. She’s got a good appetite and eats a variety of good, healthy, things. With the occasional exception, because the apples in our orchard often stay close to the tree… Case in point, the other day for breakfast 2.0 she wanted grapes and mango slices. Healthy, right? I asked what else she wanted and she pointed innocently at the fudge stripe cookies. You know the type, they’re made by elves, I believe. In an incredible display of discipline, I told her she could only have one and she had to have something else healthy. So she chose carrots. Now, we’re good here, right? 75% healthy stuff with one cookie, especially a cookie as irresistible as one with stripes of fudge, feels like the best of both worlds. I figured this would be kept on a need-to-know basis; between LD and Grandpa. That lasted until Daddy walked into the kitchen to refresh his coffee.

“Daddy I had a stripe cookie for breakfast!”

Ratted out by a 3 year-old. We went through a similar exchange when her brother came into the kitchen a few minutes later, at which point I asked her if she’d like to go out on the front porch and shout it out to the neighborhood. She demurred. A little while later, when Mommy came into the kitchen and commented on the fruit LD had chosen for breakfast, I asked LD if she’d like to add any further comment aaaannnd she helpfully told her Mom she’d started her breakfast with a stripe cookie.

I’m perfectly fine with all this too, btw. If a Grampa can’t feed possibly inappropriate breakfast foods, well then, we’ve let the terrorists win, haven’t we?

I’ve been sitting here, intermittently staring at the computer screen for about 30 minutes now, trying to decide which direction I want to go as I try to finish this post. We had a couple of larger events the last couple days and either of them would be perfectly fitting ways to close this out. Ok, I picked one so here goes. The other one may surface soon or it may float off into the ether of my brain, time will tell.

A couple posts back I pondered whether there was anything more adorbs than a three year-old in a tutu. I can now say that there is, in fact. A dance floor full of three year-olds in tutus may well be the highest score to be obtained on the Adorbs Gradient Rating System (not a real thing) ever. Blasting past puppies, kittens, bunnies, laughing babies, you name it.

This was confirmed yesterday afternoon at the Little Diamonds first ever (and possibly last ever) dance recital, as her “troupe” gave their interpretation of “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” as sung by Judy Garland. The miniature prima ballerinas all did great although I must admit the LD was by far (no bias on my part, nope, not a bit) the best of the show. She really did do great, in all seriousness, and it was truly a joy to watch. Of course it’s far too early to say if she has a future in dance or not, but the fact that, when asked by her Mom what she wanted to do next, her reply was an emphatic “KARATE!” leads me to believe her debut may have also been her swan song.

Such is the temperament of an artistรจ.

Fun fact – I just GTS’d artiste and the proper spelling shows no accent mark, but I like it so I’mma keep it there. You don’t like it, write your own damn blog. Seriously, some of you should. You know who you are.

Peace

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Dates

I know I’ve written about this before, I’m not sure if it was here or on my old site, maybe both, but once again the calendar has managed to tie a wonderful moment in the history of our family with a horrible moment.

Regular readers, or people that know me (us) IRL might recognize May 24th as the anniversary of the day Caitlin died from her injuries after being struck by a drunk driver in 2003. From this point forward we can add May 24th as the date the oldest grandchild graduated from high school.

There’s no small amount of irony to me here, as Caitlin was one week shy of her own high school graduation when she was killed. This whole senior year for the Heir To The Throne has been filled with bittersweet memories. As I’ve watched his accomplishments in this final year of high school; from Honor Rolls, to FFA Banquets, going to three different Proms, to Senior Night, to walk-off home runs, to being named All-Conference catcher, I find it’s almost impossible to not think about how thrilled Diane and Caitlin would have been to watch this year unfold.

I haven’t had that conversation with him, but a couple of the offspring and I have talked about how proud Diane would be, not just about HTTT, of course, but of all five of the littles. But she loved baseball. We went to as many of her nephews games as we could and she was always yelling her encouragement to them. And she always told them how well she thought they played whether they had an 0-fer or got a hit every at bat. The Oldest One tends to be a wee bit vocal at HTTT’s sporting events. That’s an understatement, btw. On par with saying the Titanic had a mishap with an iceberg. And I don’t say that to make fun of OO (well, maybe a little) but rather as a point of reference, because I’m fairly certain Diane would have boosted the decibel level significantly above that produced by OO. Had she been in attendance at the walk-off she may well have jumped the fence to greet him at home plate with his team. And to hear he made All-Conference? I truly believe she would roll down her car window in traffic to tell random strangers about her grandson’s accomplishment. For real for real. As I wrote that I got a vivid image of her doing that very thing. And I laughed a little (I try really hard not to literally lol when I’m writing in a coffeehouse) when that popped into my head.

So yeah, tonight will be another in the line of bittersweet days for us all. I mean, we’ll get through it alright, we always do, but it’s just another example of the ripple effect. They never stop coming, it seems. There may be lapses between them, but they’re always lurking. At least it seems like it.

Before I let this devolve into anything darker, I’m going to wrap the post up with a couple pictures

The first is the HTTT with his (unanimous) All-Conference pitcher, the second is the HTTT with Caitlin taken Mother’s Day weekend in 2003. I felt like they were a far better way to end this post.

And so I am.

Peace

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Time Does What It Does

Marches on, that is. Monday marked the 12th birthday for the Reigning Princess. I still remember when the Quiet Child told me she was expecting, shortly after Diane died. I have never been more certain of the gender of a baby than I was that day. I knew, with 100% confidence, that this baby would be a girl. What I didn’t know, was that she would combine the best traits of her Grandmother, Aunt, and Mother. She has the vivacious personality of Diane and Caitlin, and the Quiet Child’s natural beauty. She grabbed my heart and wrapped it firmly around her tiny fingers from the very first moment I saw her and has never loosened that hold. Whether she’s sending me a random “Hi Papa, I love you, I miss you!” text or, when she sees me in person and launches herself into my arms for a ginormous hug from as far away as she can possibly leap and still stick the landing, she’s got a constrictor-like grip.

As it should be.

Without question, the most difficult part of my decision to move 800 miles away from the cold-ass environs (the week started with 4frickin5 degrees here. On May 20th and 21st. WTF? btw W in this case stands for weather) of northern Illinois, was the knowledge I’d see less of my favorite small humans than I had been accustomed to. Of course I see less of my favorite larger humans too, but that’s a different thing altogether.

I consider myself pretty fortunate to be able to be a part of so much that’s happened with the family littles this spring, from Heir To The Throne’s last baseball games, to the Former Beatle Baby’s first ever baseball game, with the Reigning Princess’s games sprinkled into the mix. From the Little Diamond’s first ever dance recital (a 3 year-old in a tutu, is there really anything on the planet more adorbs than that?) to HTTT’s high school graduation. Oh, just to complete the sweep, I got to try out the Boy Genius’ virtual reality rig while I’ve been back. That was pretty incredible. It also made me feel like a dinosaur as I thought back to the first ever “computer” we had back in the day. And I use the quotation marks, because while it was technically a computer, as compared to today, it really wasn’t. Oh, here’s a thing. Last night Went to the Spring Sports Awards Night at the Heir To The Throne’s school. He got a medal as the leading Run Producer (Runs Scored plus RBI’s) so that was cool. My favorite part of the evening came after, as the Oldest One and I were chatting with the family of HTTT’s pitcher. These two have played ball together for 12 years, and almost from Day 1 the were pitcher and catcher. As we chatted there in the almost empty auditorium, we found out both boys had made the All-Conference baseball team. It was an incredibly cool moment and showed the amount of respect they had earned from the other coaches in the conference, since coaches made up the voting body.

So, yeah, it has been a pretty cool (Ha! See what I did there?) spring here in northern Illinois.

Oh, here’s a random side note. You wanna know how you know when you’ve found a great coffeehouse? When you bring in your (teetering on the brink of a mini meltdown) three year-old granddaughter immediately post hair-braid-tie-thingy (I’m pretty sure that’s not what they’re actually called, but you know what I mean) malfunction and one of the baristas not only has a spare hair-braid-tie-thingy but also rebraids the part of the three year-olds braid that unraveled due to said malfunction. AND gives her extra bunny cookies. Yup, that place is a keeper. As much as I enjoyed the place I used to frequent when I lived here, this coffeehouse is now, solidly, my go-to place when I’m back in Illinois.

Getting back to the theme I had intended with this; I’m down to less than two weeks before I head back to central North Carolina. I know there have been a bunch of people I haven’t seen on this trip, that I had intended to. So, if you’re on that list, I apologize. However, I should have a wee bit more disposable time for the remainder of my stay, so I’m hopeful I can still see many of the people I had planned on seeing. Fingers crossed, right?

Peace

PS- Sixteen years ago tonight our world turned upside down. And I’m learning we’re still dealing with the waves as they ripple through the years. No profound message, no heart rending pleas, and I’m not looking for thoughts, prayers, or sympathy. Just thinking back on sixteen years.

Again, Peace

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Senior Moments…

So, from the title it should be pretty much obvs where I’m going with this. And while I did have to correct the Oldest One when she tried to stick a label on one of my foibles (More on that later. Probably. Maybe.) that’s not where I’m going with this one.

Tonight is Senior Night at the Heir To The Throne’s baseball game. These aren’t a new phenomena, I remember mine (Although in my case it was Senior Day since the football field didn’t have lights back then. And to the smart asses that might be reading this, it wasn’t because it pre-dated Edison’s invention. The school just didn’t have lights back then) from mumble-mumble years ago, standing out on the football field flanked by my parents, as were all of the other senior football players and cheerleaders. I also remember being alongside the Boy Child at his Senior Night mumble years ago. So I figured my time for this stuff was gone.

Wrong.

I was talking to the Oldest One the other day and she told me the HTTT wanted me to join them on the field. Of course I’m honored to do it. I’m also incredibly thankful she gave me a heads up, otherwise I might’ve gotten some dust, or something, in my eyes. She said she wasn’t sure if he wanted to surprise me or not so I should act surprised. Ok then. I’m not positive, I may still lose my shit tonight. As I’ve written here lately, this is his last year of playing baseball, and I don’t know if he feels any emotion on that front yet, but I sure do. I know the OO does too. I’ll let you know how it goes…

So, I wrote everything you just read yesterday. And, as it turns out, the Oldest One and I both made it through Senior Night unscathed. I can’t however, say the same about my truck. Top of the 4th inning, one of the batters lifted a high pop up into foul territory behind home plate. And as I watched it drift back, high overhead, arcing up and then back down, the thought occurred to me that it would land very near my vehicle. In fact, it landed this near-

I guess if I’d been thinking I could have taken a close-up so you could have seen the little remnants of the thread from the baseball embedded in the glass. As aggravating as this was, I almost instantly realized there was nothing I could do after the fact. I also recognized there was no little irony that, after all these years of going to his baseball games and parking in roughly the same spot for each and every one of his home games, that on this, his final home game, I “caught” a foul ball. I suppose the perfect irony would’ve been if he’d been the batter, but hey, nobody’s perfect amirite? The only thing more aggravating came when, after about 30 minutes on the phone with a nationwide auto glass repair/replacement company that promises on their website “Broken glass? We’ll fix it fast.” See, here’s the thing about that; my definition of fast is worlds away from theirs. According to this company, eight days is a perfectly acceptable answer to the question “How quickly can you get me in for a replacement?”

Needless to say, I’m waiting to hear from another auto glass repair/replacement company to see if they can get me in faster and for less than the $750.00 I was quoted. Sigh.

So, back to the Oldest One and her failed attempt at maligning my mental faculties. I’ll admit, I tend to say things like “I was just going to tell you something but whatever it was vaporized…” I tend to say things like that because things like that tend to happen to me. Typically the thought returns in due time, although not always. My Mom was well known in the family for cycling through about five or six names when talking to any of her grandkids before she’d land on the correct name. We lovingly and laughingly referred to it as a “Grandma Ellie moment”. So, the other night, when good old OO experienced a lapse of what she wanted to say, she tried to pass it off as a “Dad” moment. Now, I’mma tell you something right now. This will not fly. And I told her that in no uncertain terms. Laughingly, of course. Still, things like these must be nipped in the bud.

Lastly, before I leave you with the impression nothing good came of yesterday, it was really a wonderful day. To be able to share this moment-

with these two meant the world to me. And I can’t wait to see what the future brings for him.

Ok, one last thing. Since I’ve been back I’ve done, basically all of my writing at a lovely coffeehouse in Algonquin. And one recent day, one of the baristas and I were chatting and the topic came to this humble little blog. So, when I ordered my Daily (not a typo btw) vanilla latte, she told me she would craft a duck into the foam. Lo and behold, I give you the I Can Relate To Ducks (not its real name) latte –

Pretty cool, no?

Peace

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Pride

It goes without saying, I’m proud of my kids and grandkids. For any number of reasons. In the case of the adults, for example, they’ve all grown to be loving. caring, human beings, the type I’m glad to spend time with, and I would even if they weren’t my kids.

In the case of the littles, I’m proud of the traits they’ve started to exhibit, which leads me to believe they, too, will become amazing adult human beings. But this particular post isn’t about the littlest ones. Instead, it’s about the biggest of the littles. Number 18 in your scorecard, number 1 in your heart, yes, this post is about the Heir To The Throne.

This season marks the end of his baseball career. That saddens me. But I get it. Much as I’d like to believe otherwise, I don’t think he’s quite good enough for the MLB draft and he has no desire to continue his education in college. He wants to get into the trades, specifically he’s taken an interest in welding. I’m ok with that btw. One of the things I’ve learned over the years was that going through an apprentice program in one of the trades is roughly equivalent to getting a four-year degree from college. The difference is that, in approximate numbers, in college roughly 90% of the learning takes place in the classroom and 10% takes place in the field whereas in an apprentice program those numbers are reversed. But the total amount of time spent learning your craft is (again, roughly) equivalent. And on an even bigger plus, he won’t come out of the education phase with a huge college loan debt hanging over his head, rather he’ll come out of it at close to top of grade pay.

So, I’m proud of him for that decision, and I’ll do all I can to support him, just as I will with the four younger littles, whatever they choose to do when their time comes.

But this post isn’t about that. This post is all about memories. Specifically the ones I’ll carry with me in HTTT’s post baseball days. Like for instance four years ago, in his first season of high school baseball when, after delivering a couple of key, run scoring hits, the guys on the bench started chanting “He’s a freshman!”. That will always make me smile. So, I’m not sure I’m as ready for this end to come as he is, but I’ll say this. The lessons he’s learned from baseball will be useful in his future, wherever he may end up. He’s learned leadership skills, as evidenced by watching him give pre-game pep talks to the team after the coach has said his piece. I’ve watched him call time to go out and settle down his pitcher (he plays catcher) countless times. I’ve seen him interact with numerous plate umpires and opposing players and I’ve seen him, almost without fail, represent his team honorably. We won’t talk about the rare occasions where the family “red ass” rears it’s head, but it has happened a couple times, almost always directed at himself. I also won’t mention the family foot speed, other than to make a blanket apology for bestowing it upon him via the gene pool.

One of the things I tried to teach him over the years about hitting was this; don’t step into the batters box until your head is right. You don’t have time to react to the pitch if you’re busy thinking about stuff. So think about situations; what the pitchers might throw, how many outs there are, the count, things of that nature before you step into the box. And if you find yourself thinking about, well, really, anything, ask for time and step out for a few seconds to clear your head.

So, let’s go back to last Wednesday, shall we? (I know, I know, it was almost a full week ago. It took me awhile to figure out how to embed the video) Your Hiawatha Hawks were playing in Big Rock. Due to rotten weather this spring (I know, right? Bad weather in Illinois in the spring? Who knew?) the Hawks were actually the home team in this game. They started out in a 2-0 hole after a sloppy 1st inning. The deficit grew to 3-0 after 3 innings. The Hawks fought back to 3-2 after 5 innings and going into the bottom of the 7th, found themselves down by the same score. The first two batters struck out. It wasn’t looking too promising for the good guys. Then, the leadoff batter worked a walk. So did the number two batter. That brought HTTT to the plate. He fouled off the first pitch he saw, a fastball he was a little late on. Same thing with the second pitch, fouling it almost off his foot. He stepped in for the next pitch and as the pitcher got his sign, HTTT asked for, and got, time from the plate umpire. He stepped out, got his head right, and stepped back in. The third pitch was close, especially if you were from Big Rock as they groaned when the ump called it a ball. And then, this happened-

You may have heard someone exclaim “Holyyyyyyy shit!” in that video. It may have been me. That’s what you call #sorrynotsorry in the online world. It was a pretty cool moment, definitely one I’ll remember fondly for the rest of my days. I hope he never becomes too cool to look back on it the same way. Life doesn’t give you many opportunities for walk-off homers, when you get one and are able to deliver, it should last in your personal highlights for as long as possible. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere but I’m not sure I’m clever enough to pull it into better focus.

So, yeah, I’m pretty proud of 18. I’m going to miss the heck out of watching him play ball. Senior Night is next week and I’m hopeful I can keep my shit together that night because one of us is kind of an old softie. The Reigning Princess has started her softball season, or will if the weather ever cooperates, and the Former Beatle Baby will start his first ever baseball season soon too. So there will be more fond spring sports memories in our futures, I’m sure.

I can’t wait.

Peace

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More Random Conversations With A Three Year-Old

As promised, the Little Diamond continues to educate me. As a bonus for you, dear readers, I’ve also included some of the running commentary I’ve had with her seven year-old brother, the grandchild formerly known as Beatle Baby. I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoyed hearing them.

As part of our regular routine on days when it’s just the two of us, LD joins me at the coffeehouse (where the baristas spoil her with “bunny cookies”. These are small butter cookies shaped, as you may have guessed, like bunnies, and they’re a big hit) and after my daily latte fix (I may have a problem. Except it’s not a problem) we go to a park of her choosing. One of her favorites has a long slide. The other day, as she finished one of her trips down the slippery surface she proclaimed, to anyone listening, “Best. Slide. Evaaar.”

She’s also fond of facepalms when I (or any other adult she spends time with for that matter) says something she finds unbelievable. And, while that’s pretty funny to watch, my favorite LD special effect has to be either the sad trombone noise she’s perfected (“Wah, wah, waaah”) or when she says something she considers hilarious, and wants to ensure a reaction she feels is suitable, will finish it with “Anybody? Anybody?” I’m waiting for her to recommend the veal and to remind me to tip the waitstaff next.

Lastly on the LD front, apparently Jojo Siwa is a thing at that age group. I had never heard of her before, apparently she owes her “fame” to some reality tv show. But she’s quite a thing in LD’s eyes. If you’re unfamiliar with her, you should probably avoid GTSing her or your search suggestions may get flooded with teenage “musicians” and I’m guessing nothing good will come from that.

Moving right along. This happened one day last week. Actually all of it did. It was quite a week.

Former Beatle Baby “Grampa Joe, are you married?”

Me “Nope.”

FBB “Cause you’re too old, right?”

Me :-l

Or this- While holding his sister’s lip balm.

FBB “Can Lilly lick this?”

Me “No pal, that’s not for dogs.”

FBB “Oh.” “She kinda did.”

Me “She kinda did?”

FBB “Uh huh”

Me “Ok, then.”

In case you’re wondering, I washed off the lip balm before I gave it back to the LD.

This came from the bathroom yesterday-

FBB “Don’t stop, believin’…” Which, btw, sounded better than Journey since, you know, Journey. But I’m not sure why he felt compelled to sing that song, let alone to sing it in the bathroom. Also, at random times yesterday I was treated to Coldplay’s “Paradise” and possibly “Livin’ On A Prayer” by Bon Jovi? At least that’s who I think it’s by. I don’t care enough to look it up. I get enough off-base music suggestions (artificial intelligence my ass) as it is. I’m beginning to question his parenting though. Not really. But kinda.

Finally there was this, at a fundraiser breakfast for the fire department where I got my start lo those many years ago, and where we were joined by his Aunt, the Oldest One. Tossing a sugar packet in front of his Aunt, FBB said

“You dropped your name tag.”

As you might imagine, the table erupted into some pretty hearty laughter. But the best part was when he leaned over to his Mom and asked

“What does that mean?”

Peace

PS- I’ve got another one of these brewing, but first I need to figure out how to whittle a video down to a size that will allow me to embed it into a post. You’ll know it if I’m successful…

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Random Conversations With A 3 Year Old

This one might be long on column space, but it’s pretty short word-wise. And if the subject keeps up the entertainment value of comments, I’ll do another one of these.

One of the obvious bonuses to coming out here a week earlier than I’d planned is getting more time to hang with the littles. Even the not so littles. One of the surprise bonuses (I’m not sure how many there will be, since, you know, surprise bonus) is the opportunity to glean wisdom from a certain three year-old. The Little Diamond and I have been hanging quite a bit this week and these are some of the pearls she’s dropped on me…

Little Diamond from the back seat of the car after a morning of running errands – “Are we almost home?”

Me – “Almost. Are you tired?”

LD – “No, I’m hungry.”

Me – “What do you want for lunch?”

LD – “Chips!”

Me – “You need to eat more than chips.”

LD – “Ummm peppers and tomatoes! And chips!”

Me – “How about some bbq too?”

LD “Yeah, whatever.” I could almost hear her eyes roll at me with that one.

Then there was the time I was singing along (poorly I might add) to the theme from SpongeBob SquarePants…

LD – “No Grampa, it’s SpongeBob Triangle.”

Me – “When did they change it?”

LD – “Last Friday.”

Me – “Ok then.”

I have learned over the past week that this phrase precedes some very unusual comments…

LD – “Ummm Grampa Joe, I have to tell you something.”

Me – “You do?”

LD – “Ummm I saw something blue on the floor and it was from Lilly’s toy.”

Me – “Did you throw it in the garbage for me?”

LD – “Umm yes? *with an impish grin*

Me – “LOL are you sure?”

LD – “Yes?”

Me – “Ok then.”

Or this.

“Grampa Joe, I have to tell you something.”

“Ok, sweetie.”

“I’m hungry, can I have a snack?”

“Sure, what would you like?”

“Nutella.”

“Nutella and what?”

“Nuffing. Just Nutella.”

“Ok then. I’ll get you some Nutella.”

LD, describing game pieces from Candy Land –

“This one doesn’t have a face.”

“What happened to it?”

“A puppy did it.”

“Really? What puppy?”

“Ummm Sherlock.”

“Who has a puppy named Sherlock?”

“Ummm Daddy.”

“Really. Daddy has a puppy named Sherlock?”

“Uh huh.”

*Pro tip* Daddy does not, in fact, have a puppy named Sherlock. Or anything else, for that matter.

This next comment I hear, at random, roughly forty to fifty times a day and that’s not an exaggeration. And each time melts my heart.

LD – “I love you Grampa Joe.”

Me – “I love you too sweetie.”

If you’ve got grandkids, or for that matter, kids around this age, I’m sure you’re familiar with this type of running commentary. Probably to the point that you could fill up one of these posts with similar tales. So you can relate, I’m sure. Through all the hurdles life can put in our path, moments like these always seem to help get us focused back on what’s truly important. Like, for instance, did you know My Little Ponies have cutie marks and NOT beauty marks? This is important.

Peace.