Things My Grandma Taught Me

To Grandma Sieber, with love.

Things my grandma taught me:

• Hospitality - "Are you hungry? Here, let me fry you up a pork chop."
• Generosity - "Come down to the cellar and you can collect the pennies from all the pocket change left on the table." My Bugs Bunny bank held a lot of those pennies!
• A love of animals, including how to talk to cats (and dogs) - Grandma once had a black-and-white cat named Blackfoot, whom she adored. He adored her right back. I marvelled at how he would flop down on his back and writhe around happily at her feet while she cooed at him, telling him what a good kitty he was. To me, he was a snob:  hissing merely because I wanted to pet him. (How dare he?! I was totally innocent!) Haha. Incidentally, I still talk to cats and dogs the way I saw her do it and it drives my husband nuts. He'll leave the room if I start up. 😄
• The importance of quality time - Before I knew what "quality time" was, I knew that my relationship with my grandma was a special one. Although some of my best memories are at my other grandma's house (thanks to cousins), Grandma Sieber was my favorite grandparent hands down. She spent a lot of one-on-one time with me. She taught me how to play cards, how to shuffle (an important life skill, as I once tried to convince my reluctant daughter), how to play Chinese Checkers, how to bake bread with its many steps: kneading, punching the dough down after it rose... Those were wonderful years when I had grandma all to myself. ❤ (EDIT: I don't mean for this to come across as bragging. As an only child of a mentally ill mom, I grew up spending so much time by myself, that it meant that much more to me that Grandma was willing to spend time with me. My mom was often in her own little world. Case in point: one day she was tending to her flower garden and ignoring my attempts to get her attention. Apparently, I decided to run over her 'precious' annuals with my bike. The neighbor, who recounted this story to me years later, watched in sadness as my mom continued to ignore me and forlornly tried to put her flowers back together. I understand it now, and even feel compassion for her, but back then, well - let's just say that her lack of attention to me was difficult in many ways.)<3 li="">
• The importance of a sense of humor - We often enjoyed making each other laugh. We could joke around over the phone for 30 minutes without really saying anything at all. Silly phrases like, "Dad burn it anyhow," "He doesn't know sick-'em," "Have I reached the party to whom I'm speaking?" and "See you in the funnies!" It didn't make sense to anyone but us. As an adult, I also talk to my daughter in our own special lingo, which (surprise!) drives Shane nuts, so we're stealthy about it. 😏
• How to laugh with your whole face - I loved it when she'd throw her head back and guffaw. Once, in the 1970's, my dad took a well-timed picture of her doing that. It's one of my favorite pictures ever.
• How to use nicknames as terms of endearment - Hers for me was, "Cinny Linnie;" mine for her was "Grandma Linnie." (Naturally!) Once again, I have continued this tradition with my children and my pets. Isaac is "I-Zee", Allie is "Sweets", and Raelyn the dog is "Rae-Nut."
• How to make birthdays special - Grandma made a three-layer white cake with butterscotch pudding in between, covered with seven-minute frosting. It was a sight to behold and heaven to eat. She made one for everyone's birthdays. I didn't realize the amount of work involved until I grew up and moved away. I missed her cakes so much, I decided to make them myself. I quickly gained a new appreciation for her and the time it took to make just one cake with all of its assembled parts.
• A love of family - Grandma loved all of us. After my mother's schizophrenia became profound, causing her to denounce Grandma and Grandad, Grandma once told me that she and Grandad would welcome her back with open arms, no questions asked.
• The importance of healthy habits - At the breakfast table one morning, I watched Grandma lay a paper towel on the table in front of Grandad, then one-by-one, she placed several vitamins on it. Aghast, I asked, "Is that all Grandad gets for breakfast??" I was relieved when she brought out a box of Frosted Flakes.
• The importance of staying physically active - She enjoyed cooking and baking for loved ones and farmhands, vegetable gardening and flower gardening, playing bridge, and a great many other things. She wasn't one to sit on her hands. Her longevity speaks for itself.
• How to get little ones to sleep - Once in a while, I would stay the night at Grandma and Grandad's house. As I settled in for the night, she tucked me in - starting at my toes, working her way up my wiggly legs and arms as we both giggled. Then, she soothingly crooned, "Seepy-seepy-seep.... Seepy-seepy-seep..."  I used that a good many times over the years with my own kids and with kids in my care. My friends called me "The Baby Whisperer" because of it. I was proud to say, "I learned it from my grandma, who learned it from her mother."

Grandma, if you ever get a chance to read this, I just want to thank you for your investment in me when I was young. As you can see, I have relied on your example on multiple occasions, as you no doubt relied on your mother's and your aunts' examples. Someday, my children will rely on my example. All this excellence has stayed in the family and will continue on through generations. We are strong women who come from strong women.

I love you, Grandma Linnie. Yours, Cinny Linnie<3 div="">

Selling Mom's Stuff

It feels like a relief to slowly get rid of my mother's stuff. I guess it has taken me since last fall to realize that she won't be needing it. I don't know where she is staying or if she is taking her meds. Hopefully, she'll stay in the Baltimore area and continue working with her mobile treatment team. It's depressing to wade through disorganized papers wadded in drawers, with even more disorganized thinking on them.  She is so very very sick. I have more papers to go through, and I dread it.  I skim them and keep the really bad ones in case I ever need proof of her illness. Although if anyone talks with her for 5 minutes it is evident.

Our village is having a village wide garage sale Mother's Day weekend. I plan to have a sale for all the things that we brought up from her Louisville storage unit last year.  It seems appropriate. If I find her, I'll send her the money from the sale so she can continue to live independently. Or, if she needs furniture, we'll buy replacements.  None of her possessions are anything I recognize from my childhood.  My guess is that all of those ended up in another storage unit somewhere and was auctioned off like in American Pickers.  I try not to think about the trunk full of heirlooms and somebody bidding on it. Oh well. You can't take it with you when you go, so you might as well let it go now.

Mother's Day is one of the worst holidays for me. It's the one day of the year that I feel overcome by grief.  She is alive, yet gone. I mourn the relationship we used to have. Her smiles and her saying, "I love you," or "I just enjoy you so much."  She may be capable of saying those things still, but other conversation is very limited and complicated. Maybe someday I'll be better able to articulate this. I guess it's like talking to someone with brain damage who has delusions of grandeur about herself and delusions of the worst in everyone else.  Oh, the things I have read!

Maybe Mother's Day will be different this year, knowing that I'm doing something to help her. Maybe I'll be able to think about my own family or my amazing stepmom or my wonderful mother-in-law, or my friends who show me up close how to be a mom.

I look forward to having an empty basement and garage and being able to move on from the hopes I let get too high.

Surgery update

Shane's surgery went well, except it wasn't exactly the surgery Shane thought it was going to be.  He thought he was getting bone put in the roof of his mouth, but that will be the next surgery (Stage 2).  Today was Stage 1 -- patching the holes in the roof of his mouth and repositioning the muscles to their proper place.  In Stage 2, they will also fix his lip.  At minimum, that surgery will be 3 months off.  In Stage 3, they will fix his nose so he can breathe better.

More later.

Shane's Surgery Now

Shane is in surgery at Johns Hopkins as I type this.  The doctors are taking bone marrow from his hip to strengthen his palate and filling two holes in the roof of his mouth.  He will be at Johns Hopkins for 1 or 2 nights.  Post surgery, he can only have liquids for two weeks.  Poor guy is going to go nuts.  I should have weighed him this morning to see how much weight he loses. He wants to go back to work on Tuesday, but I predict he'll be too weak. 

He will have more surgeries later to fix other things related to his cleft lip and palate, such as his nose and his lip, as well as replacing some teeth with dental implants.  Today's surgery will allow there to be enough bone in the roof of his mouth to let the dental implants hold.  So as you can see, he's just at the beginning of a journey that will probably take a couple of years.  I'm happy for him and look forward to seeing him smile confidently someday.  Just imagine how different he's going to look by the time we move back to Wisconsin in 2016!

Last night we ate dinner at Fuddrucker's (yum!) for his last meal of solid food for two weeks.  I took a short video of him making his "dolphin noise," because today it's going away.  While I will miss it, I'm glad for him.  I told him he's like the penguin in Toy Story whose squeaker was broken, only instead of having it fixed, he's having his squeaker removed. :)  Here's the video I took last night.  (Sorry for the loud background noise.)

I wish I could be in two places at once: at the hospital with Shane and at home getting the kids ready for school.  After dropping him off at the hospital at 5:30am, I came home.  I plan to go back to Johns Hopkins once the kids are off to school and stay with Shane until mid-afternoon; then home to get the kids so they can see Dad.  I'm not sure if they'll let Allie in to see him because she isn't 12.  Please pray for God's will to be done here - on the one hand, she would be super sad not to see him but on the other hand, it might be scary for her to see him out cold with tubes sticking out of him.  God knows best.

I texted this verse to Shane this morning and am holding it near and dear today:

Isaiah 26:3
Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.

Thank you for lifting up Shane and the kids and I in prayer.  We can feel it.  May you also feel God's love through us.

Cindy