jessteronimo

Family Memories

Lately I have been having strong memories of family stories, customs, sayings, and events from when I was growing up. Every family has its history. Favorite movies from which we all can quote, favorite meals, special events and customs, silly and scary stories, and so on. I was thinking that someone ought to write these things down for posterity (and the inevitable memory loss of old age), since my Mom--who would have been the most likely candidate--isn't here to do it. And then I realized that I am the writer and the unofficial record keeper of my family. Oh. Oops. I should do that then, huh? With all my free time. Brilliant, Jess.

*Sigh* I'll probably share some of the stories here, but I plan to write most of it offline--a somewhat foreign concept in our times, I know. (Despite appearances, I'm still a relatively private person.) Friends and fam, if you have ideas, send 'em my way.

Call Your Mom

The phone buzzed rather loudly as it vibrated against the table. My friend picked it up and glanced curiously at the screen's caller ID. "Oh, it's just my Mom," he muttered in a tone that suggested that her call was a familiar event, not terribly important or special. Quite unexpectedly, I felt an overwhelming wave of jealousy and grief consume me, to the point that I struggled to function for a moment. I tried not to think it, but it came anyway: I'd give anything in this world to get a phone call from my mother. Alarmed that I really and truly could have a breakdown on the spot, I quickly and viciously recovered myself; I doubt he even noticed the need for it. By the time the waitress brought our meal, I'd already pushed the experience into my memory--it was just one more experience to add to the collective parade of atrocities that is September for me.

I know I wasn't the only one who sobbed today over my mother's lonely collapse into a private hell 14 years ago, but I wish I had been, especially since I can't literally hold onto my hurting brothers and sisters tightly right now.

Call your mother, I beg you. And your father.

Kaboom

First thing this morning my sister-in-law sent the family a text message informing us all that she was leaving my little brother and taking their four kids with her. It was actually a kind thing for her to do because he wasn't alone at this really low time for him, but it sent our family spinning into chaos the whole day. We're still trying to piece together the story that brought them to this point, and we'll probably never know. I know my brother and sisters feel the same way: we just want them to be happy--and to protect those children whom we all love and make sure we're still a part of their lives. Seeing marriages fall apart all around me lately, I've been recently pondering what goes into a good marriage. While there are some guidelines, there don't seem to be any hard-and-fast rules. I wonder how some couples go down while some couples seem to pull through what I think of as the inevitable pitfalls, challenges, and tests in any marriage (such as money problems, family pulls, and small children). My heart aches for the ones I see going through the same trials I did, but there's no way to help them. I can say all the usual: stick with it, fight through it, it gets easier, yadda yadda. But do they they hear it? Can they? Is it true? Who knows?

Here, Fishy, Fishy Fishy!

My youngest daughter whined me into buying her a fish today. It's a beta fish. She named it Cheese, short for Blueberry Cheesecake, because it's blue and white. My oldest was unsuccessful in whining, cajoling, or bribing me into buying her a puppy. She'll keep trying.

Sadie, Sadie, Married Lady

Congratulations to my dear younger sister for tying the knot this past weekend with a wonderful man who promises to take care of her. May you both be blissfully happy for the rest of forever!

Wedding Bliss

Today my family traveled to my hometown to participate in the wedding of one of my oldest and dearest friends. The man who introduced Ben and I met and married an incredible woman who knowingly agreed to take on his four kids--and more surprisingly, him! She even agreed to let him keep coming to Game Days at our house about once a month. Like I said, incredible lady. We're so happy for you, Myenni!

Babies, Babies Everywhere

My little brother's second baby girl was born earlier this week, and yesterday my best friend and her husband welcomed their second daughter. I gotta tell ya: I love these babies desperately, but I am SO dang glad that that baby-raising phase of my life is over. I've become way too accustomed to regular sleep hours, clothes without throw-up on them, kids that do all things bathroom-related by themselves, trash cans that don't smell like diapers, and doing anything outside the house without a diaper bag and all the other paraphernalia that comes with babies. I'll help out when I can, though, guys, because I was actually good at that stuff!

Shocker

I may just die of shock. My youngest daughter just, unbidden, loaded and started the dishwasher! I can't be sure, but it looks like she cleaned the dining room and kitchen too. I'm not sure what to think. She's not the type. Does she want something? Is she suddenly growing up? Do I care why? Whatever she's after, more of that behavior will get it!

Slipping and Sleeping

On Friday he fell while no one was home and couldn't get up for hours. Although he didn't actually injure himself, the experience knocked the stuffing out of him, and by the time he was rescued and righted, he'd sunken into something of a glazed-stare trance, with no energy left in his tired, withered old limbs. Last night he went to sleep around 9:00, like he has for as long as I can remember--but this time he didn't wake up again. He feels none now, but I can't describe the pain my family is feeling today. We already miss you so much, Grandpa!

At eighty-six, he'd lived a good life: he was a respected and hard worker, a veteran, a Christian, and a proud parent with many grand- and great-grandkids--still spending each and every day with his life-long sweetheart. But the last several years have been especially hard as his body deteriorated. He fought with nightmarish and debilitating depression, breathing disorders (on oxygen almost constantly), and untold old-age aches and pains, but his biggest and worst struggle was with a particularly virulent and recurring case of Shingles, an extremely painful condition that attacks the nerves and skin. Even still, we all expected Grandma--who was visibly wasting away and having what appeared to be more serious breathing problems--to be the first to go. Shocker.

My father was sobbing when he called me with the news of his father's passing. Overcome with grief and barely able to talk, he asked me to convey the news to my family, so the phone call web began. I haven't heard from him since. I know he's busy and hurting, but thank goodness his wife has been connecting us all throughout the day. There's too much work in funeral plans! I'm surprised at the shock and anger that keeps gripping me--in between bouts of deep sadness and embarrassing, infuriating normalness. And I suppose I shouldn't be, but I'm also surprised at how much of my mother's death this is bringing back up. I'd worked through that--or so I'd thought. How cruel the cycle of life and death can be to the survivors. I know, from experience now, that the next few days will knock me down and leave me gasping, and then I'll begin the long, slow process of picking myself back up again, acting normal until I feel more like it. May take years.

Babysitting

I agreed to watch my best friend's three-year-old daughter today while she is taking her final CPA exam (good luck, girlfriend!). The little girl arrived early this morning while my family was still asleep, but my youngest must have sensed the presence of a playmate and woke up the moment they walked in the door. My daughter has been giddy ever since the arrival of her personal live doll. She's fed her, dressed her, done her hair, entertained her, carried her around (the little girl is tall but tiny and remarkably light) and chattered to her nonstop, even though the little girl is being shy and hasn't said one word since she got here (I know she's not always shy because I've seen her chatter just like my girls). It's strange having a little person in the house again. I'd forgotten what young ones are like. And it warms my heart to see my youngest's mini mom skills in high gear. She's going to make a great mother one day. In the meantime, we'll just borrow other people's kids for practice and playtime. ;)