100-Words: No More, No Less

I receive emails from Poets & Writers Magazine. Today, I read about different literary magazines that accept unsolicited pieces. One of them requests 100-word essays, poems, or prose. I accepted the challenge and wrote one based on last week’s experience and submitted it.

Grandma in Woodbine

We’ve been to see you there

But you don’t watch for us

You don’t wait.

Your name etched in stone

Where we place our blossoms

And tell you our stories

But your voice is inaudible.

Since you left earth

Traveling to the great beyond

We all met once again in

The field of stone and grass.

Without warning or prediction

It was your only son’s

Untimely passing which hurled shock

Into the hearts of those left here.

Your sister is now gone

Her husband is gone, too.

Generations of our family

Memorialized in a Kansas cemetery.

We will meet again.

I'm usually not one to write this kind of piece, but I'm pleased with it nonetheless. 

I do think about Grandma each time I go to the cemetery. She was a funny, funny woman until she was wracked with physical pain. She did so much for me, always loving me, always supporting me. And I know I will see her again someday.

Death and Life

I went to the funeral for my great-uncle this week.

Although death is a sad time for those left behind, we celebrated his 92 years of life that day. We came from different cities… St. Joseph, Overland Park, Chapman, Abilene, Wichita, Hennessey, Justin… I'm sure there were more that I didn't know.

I made the trip alone as Jim had to work this week. As I was driving to Kansas from Texas on Monday, a huge storm front was moving across the sky. It was beautiful. And the sky remained beautiful, no matter the condition, the whole time I was there.

 

 

Driving from Wichita to Herington on Tuesday morning, I appreciated the beauty of Kansas. It's been almost 20 years since Jim and I moved away, going on our own life adventures. But I am always fascinated by the magnificence of the plains.

 

 


 
  

My brother spoke during the ceremony, and I learned some things that I didn’t know about Ted. I knew he was a Veteran, but I didn’t know the particulars.

“Ted served in the United States Army with the 348^th Engineers and was a World War 11 veteran, involved in the Battle of the Bulge and D-Day. One of the highlights of his later years was visiting Washington, D.C. and the World War II Memorial with the Kansas Honor Flight.”

I was already proud of him, and this information was a great tribute to him and his service. I also didn’t know he came from such a large family of 8 brothers and sisters. Some of them were at the funeral. You would think that after knowing Ted my whole almost-48 years of life, I would have known them. But I didn’t.

Some soldiers from Fort Riley in Junction City came to the cemetery. They saluted while Taps played. They folded the flag and gave it to Ted’s only son. 

 

 

 

 

 

Afterwards, we walked around and looked at the headstones of our relatives who were buried there. There is something to be said about knowing where you came from.

I keep telling everyone they need to write a book about their lives. Information sometimes gets lost in translation and time. I don't want to forget what I've learned about my great-uncle and the family he comes from. 

Families are intricately woven together in a beautiful tapestry, and it would be shame for one part to be forgotten.

Of Dogs and Men

Dogs and men. The ultimate friendship.

This week has been one of those weeks. You know the ones… where minutes drag on and on, and are gone before you know it.

Last week, our dog, Sophie, had a week like a dog usually does. Eating, sleeping, going outside… But then something happened. Sunday, she started not eating, drinking, or going outside. By Monday evening, we knew something was definitely wrong with her. This is a girl who runs, “talks,” and is cuddly and pushy for attention. She was none of these things.

We took her to the vet on Tuesday morning, and she could barely walk. My son helped her up the stairs, and she plopped down and waited for the vet to see her. They wanted to do x-rays, but being between monthly paydays, we couldn’t do it. So, the doc examined her and found her tummy to be hard. He took her outside, gave her an enema, and she finally went to the bathroom. She came back in, running, hopping around, just like the normal Sophie.

We were relieved.

When we got home, she ran straight to her water dish, drank for a long time, and made the rounds to the boys. And she took a much-needed nap. That afternoon, the use of her back legs was diminished again.

By Thursday, she lost all function in her back legs. And she’s trying really hard to be what we would consider to be “normal.” Personality-wise, she hasn’t lost anything, but bodily, she acts paralyzed in her hind quarters. And we have no clue what’s going on.

I was up almost all night with Sophie on Thursday, as I think she didn’t want to be alone. I felt so helpless! When I called the vet yesterday morning, I began sobbing and had to ask them to wait for just a minute… At least she is using the bathroom.

My husband can build anything, so he built her a doggie wheelchair, which is helping her get around. Poor thing.

 

Then, my great uncle passed away this morning. He was a farmer his whole life… well, after he returned from the war.

They lived on a property outside the town of Hope, Kansas. They had corn and cows and chickens. And dogs. They had a white Samoyed named Snowball whom I loved. She lived for what seemed like forever. When you turned into their long gravel drive, Snowball would see you and greet you at your car. She was dirty and beautiful… my favorite of all of those dogs.

One summer, while my mother was having back surgery, my sister, brother and I spent several weeks at Ted and Gego’s (as I nicknamed her). We loved walking down to the mailbox which must have been 2 miles from the house, helping with the garden, and getting the eggs. I even touched an electric fence by accident one time. That was quite a lesson!

When my dad was transferred to the Chicago area from Kansas in 1977, Ted and Gego agreed to let our dog, Snoopy, live with them on the farm. I was only 11 when I had to give him up, but I was so grateful they had him. When we moved back to Kansas in 1978, Snoopy left his “cushy” life at the farm and came back to town. I think he missed them.

Going to their house was like being free. You could hardly get a radio station, not even AM. There was hardly any noise for miles around, except from farm equipment, and the night showed off stars that couldn’t be seen from the city. I didn’t think about the snakes or other predators that lurked in the night. I only knew the corn was blowing in the wind, we’d have homemade bread for toast, and we were comfortable and loved.

They let us kids be kids. They weren’t concerned with messes because those could be cleaned up. One Christmas, they bought us (my sister, brother, me, and my cousins, Stacey and Shane) roller skates. Then, they turned us loose in their unfinished basement with the concrete floor. We skated ridiculously close to the hole in the floor for the sump pump, around the wood framing, and we went ‘round and ‘round. The dust was crazy! But our grandparents just laughed, and it became a memory etched into the fabric of this family.

Ted and Gego were like another set of grandparents to my sister, brother, and me. We have a relatively small family, and they loved us like that, too. My grandpa passed away at Christmas in 1984, and Grandma left us at Thanksgiving, 2000. My uncle died suddenly in January, 2010, and Gego in January, 2011. He was the last of our grandparents.

I know his passing will be especially difficult on his only son and his family. I think it will be hard on my mother, too, who has lost her brother and both of her parents. Having such a small family, one person passing has a profound effect on us all.

He leaves a great legacy and was loved dearly.

The Happy Birthday Boy

Today is my Caleb’s 15^th birthday.

It was August 1997, and we had just moved to the Kansas City, MO area for Jim’s first teaching job. We already had two little boys: Noah was 2-1/2, and Jonah was 1-1/2. Because of my Endometriosis diagnosis, I knew I might have had a short window on having children.

So many things went wrong when we were new in the area. I won’t go into those right now. But we soon figured out that we would not make it financially if I didn’t have a job. I applied for an interim position at the administration office in the district in which Jim taught. And I was hired! Then I had the issue of finding a child care provider.

Fortunately, I found a lady close to the school and only a couple of miles from my office. I really loved her, and so did the kids. But I found it was harder to leave them every day than I thought it would be.

I started my job the first week of October. I got pregnant 2 weeks later.

The job was only a temporary position, but the 79 year-old lady I was filling in for decided to retire… Go figure! And I was offered the job on a full-time permanent basis. This was one of the best jobs I’d had up to that point in my life. My boss told me that I could bring a pack-and-play up to the office everyday so I wouldn’t have to put my baby in daycare. I wasn’t sure if he was joking! I was so torn.

When we had the ultrasound and found out that the baby was most definitely a boy, I was so excited! And we chose a name for him that I previously said (when I didn’t have kids) was so overused. But it fit him perfectly.

My last day at my job was June 30^th. Jonah had surgery for tubes in his ears the next week. Noah got hurt the next week, and we ended up in the emergency room (I can’t remember the details), and the next week, on July 14^th, we were in a hospital room at 5:30 a.m. for the induction.

Because I had been induced before, I thought it would probably be a long process. We had to get up at 3:30 a.m. that morning, and on the way to the hospital, I told Jim it would be great if it was all over by noon. We both laughed and just knew it wouldn’t happen that way.

Just as soon as the Pitocin was started around 6:30, the contractions started, too. Jim was trying to study for one of his masters classes, but we soon realized this wasn’t going to be the same as the other two deliveries. I asked for Stadol, and this took the edge off for a few minutes at a time. I fell asleep and woke up in the middle of the contractions. It seemed to never end.

When my parents arrived from Wichita with the video camera, it was too late for video. It was too late for an epidural, too. I felt every single pain with that delivery, and he was born before noon! Unbelievable.

I shouted out “Oh good, maybe YOU can help me!” to every person who came into my room. No one could!

Caleb Joseph was a beautiful baby with dark curly hair and dark eyes. He was just adorable.

And he’s been adorable since then. The last year, he’s probably grown 6-7 inches. He has braces, and his appearance has changed dramatically.

Oh, he’s given us some interesting stories to tell! Like when he failed his Kindergarten hearing test, and I took him to the doctor, only for him to say he had wax buildup in his ears. Because of his previous ear issues, and the fact he had tubes previously, I insisted on going to a specialist. It’s a good thing I did because it was wax buildup… but they were pellets from a stuffed animal! And one of the tubes had grown into his eardrum and needed to be taken out and replaced.

This is only one of hundreds of stories that make us laugh and cry.

I’m proud of the young man he is. He still loves his mom and dad and brothers. He loves his dogs, and he is generous and kind to everyone. Even those who mistreat him.

So, Happy Birthday, Beeble! I love you and am so proud of you. To say I’m grateful you are my son is an understatement.

I hope you always believe God has great plans for you. Because He does.