Dealing With Death

[photo not ours]

I don't deal with death well.
But who does.
I just shove it off to someone else, ignore it, go on like nothing is different. In a lot of ways nothing is really different. They can deal with it.
Knowing that's not the way to deal with it, like everything else, that eventually we'll have to deal with it...doesn't seem to change how I choose to deal with it.

Tomorrow is Grandma's funeral.
The last of our grandparents is now gone. We'll probably never see much of the family again, gatherings have almost always centred around the grandparents. Over time we've seen less and less...until it has gotten to the point that the only time we see some of our cousins, aunts and uncles, is at funerals.

It's been about three years, since Grandpa's funeral, since we've seen some of them.

While this may not be a big deal, in our younger days there was always a real feeling of togetherness, a feeling of family, which has now been replaced by an indifferent distance, even when we're with them, often times we see the distance in their face. It's partially our fault, of course; that doesn't make it comforting, or better.

Death is just a part of living. Everything dies. Including family ties.

~ Catherine (et al)

Carrying on a Legacy

Image Source

She may not have been a legend to the world, she was a legend to us. So was her husband.

Words that come to mind when we think of her are rebellious, young at heart, opinionated, and intelligent, stubborn.

Had she had her way, she would have went to University, would have taught English and writing to school children. She loved writing, she would write letters to everybody she knew. She loved getting letters, she always said she especially liked ours. We have a feeling we were one of her only grandchildren who regularly wrote letters to her, but because we had always been on the move and travelling after graduation, we usually had interesting things to write to her. Sometimes she would "mark" our letters, and show them to us when we would visit her.

Instead of following her dream, she changed her dream. She married and made a happy home for her husband, they had been high school sweethearts, had a marriage to pattern one's own from. She grew her own vegetables, tended flowers, and was active in the community, raising seven strapping children on shoe string budgets.

Today, almost three years to the day since Grandpa crawled down from his deer stand, was admitted to the hospital diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and within weeks passed away, she went to meet him in her heaven.

Her legacy was one of food, cooking, words, gardening. loving your neighbour. She wasn't perfect, of course, but she was a lovely woman.

We saw her about a month ago, our last memory of her will be sitting next to her in the nursing home, during an annual family gathering, holding her hand, listening to her talk about the people around her, and talking aimlessly about bits and pieces from the past. We are sure she was a bit confused with what she saw, our family has become very multi-cultural because of adoptions and foster care, and it had been awhile since she had even recognized some of her own grandchildren, us included.

Each time we told her we had to go, and kissed her cheek, she'd clasp our hands more firmly, indicating she didn't want us to leave. It made us giggle and smile, which in turn made her smile. We lay our head on her frail small shoulder one last time, and told her that we love her, and that we would see her soon. As we walked out we knew we probably wouldn't.

She went into intensive care last week, and family members went to see her but we were told too late to make the trip. We were told she asked for us.

Her passing is no surprise, of course. She has been in so much pain that they sedated her the last couple of days because even morphine wouldn't take her pain away. Her life will be remembered; her passing, the end of a generation that held traditions and values that are disappearing from this country; but the disappearances need not be a scary thing, like death, change is inevitable and part of life, and it doesn't mean that the new traditions and values will be bad, it just means they will be different.

Some, part of a Legacy, that will be carried on.

With the passing of our last grandparent, many of us shall continue to blend our own modern views and values, with their traditional practices of self sustainability and compassion for others.

Rest in peace, Grandma. You shall be missed by many. (P.S. and just in case you are right, give Grandpa a hug and kiss for us)

~ Frank et al

Some of the other stuff we've written over the year about Grandma:

• January 15, 2012 A Visit With Grandma http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/2012/01/visit-with-grandma.html
• June 23, 2012 A Family Picnic Day http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/2012/06/family-picnic-day.html
• October 6, 2012 Just A General How Do You Do http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/2012/10/just-general-how-do-you-do.html

I’m A “Libtard”, Apparently - A Guest Blogger

Because we're feeling lazy as hell, and uninspired to talk about things going on in our life (Grandma has been in the Intensive Care Unit for a couple of days, and she actually asked for us...from the reports we hear she is getting better, we'll have to go visit her soon...but enough about that), we're featuring a guest blogger for today. He's not really a guest blogger so much as James, who many know as The Boyfriend. He wrote this awhile ago (about a month ago), but we really like what he had to say, even if we don't always agree on everything, nor him us, this was one of the things we are proud to stand next to him and agree with.

There has been a lot of name calling in this election among people on social media, some very...gentle and harmless...and in some cases cruel, ignorant and disturbing. We've witnessed it, other people have told us about it (like this woman, a follower on Twitter, who DM'd this link to us: http://alvariver.tumblr.com/post/34160524039/last-night). We think this crude name calling mostly has to do with being un-educated about what the people claim to be fighting about, and that's why they resort to such childish behaviours. It's easy to keep a level head, and keep from name calling (being an adult), for the most part, when armed with facts, and information based on actual reality, rather than speculation and talking points based on nothing but unresearched news organization propaganda  like...well...much of what Fox News and it's syndicates, distribute, for example.

Thank goodness the whole [election] thing will be over in three (four) days and we can all go back to hating each other for more than just which side of the political fence the people in the opposing party leans on.

So, to James, and his passionate response to a Facebook communication he intercepted between us and a woman we know (who happens to be a pretty firm conservative). It should be noted that James is British. He's been living in the United States with us now for about nine months over the last year.

[To the person this was directed to, there are no hard feelings, you know we're tolerant, and you also know we discussed this amicably in private, please do not feel like this is a refreshed personal jab at you.]

I’M A “LIBTARD”, APPARENTLY

This actually stemmed from the response to one of Frankie’s Facebook statuses and was directed at them but since it applies to me too, I thought I’d take a stab at a response. In the end, I felt it was something I’d like to share with others, as I often do with my opinions. So here then, unedited, is my Facebook response:

“Libtard”? If you mean belief in the freedom and liberty of people then yes, I’m a “libtard”. If you mean belief of freedom of speech and religion (including freedom not to be religious), free trade (of goods and ideas and in turn, opposed to any restrictions), elections and democracy then yes, I’m a “libtard”. If you mean the belief that all people should be free and to have equal rights (you’ll find a perfect example of such left wing “libtard nonsense” in your beloved “Declaration of Independence”, I suggest you read it) then yes, I’m a “libtard”. If you mean a belief that the “gubnant” should not restrict or take away the rights of its people then yes, I’m a “libtard”. If you mean a belief that personal freedoms shouldn’t restrict the people’s freedom (you (Americans) even went to war with each other over that one) then yes, I’m a “libtard”.
But I also have socialistic beliefs (beyond all of the above, what with being British and all). I believe that the government (as the people’s elected governors) should be responsible for providing social services e.g. health care and education and in any other respect, doing what it can to help those are less well off (not through any fault of their own, you know, like single parents who find themselves out of work and struggle to find new employment, as one example of many). If you think those are left wing liberal beliefs then yes, I’m a “libtard” (or are you, like many of your ignorant peers, now going to accuse me of being a communist too?). And I must be a “libtard” because I believe that the government, in its duties to its people and its country, needs funding in order to do these things (or in your case, so that it can send its people to fucking war with a country it has no right to or reason to be involved with) and as such can look to its people in the form of taxes. I further believe that the wealthier minority of a country, those that because of its government, its country and its people have allowed them to become so wealthy, should reward that by paying a higher percentage of taxes (though I’d happily settle for equal percentage at this point).
In summary then yes, I must, according to you, be a “libtard” and if this is what makes me a “libtard” then I’d wear that badge with fucking honour.
Your fucking ignorance is astounding, but far from surprising.
[Additional] There will always be those that through either ignorance or arrogance that will insist on a label and insist on bastardising and distort the meanings behind those labels. There are those that believe socialism means communism or that one be-gets the other. There will always be those that will cherry pick the founding ideals of socialism and liberalism in order to either shrug off the hypocrisy of their own beliefs and / or to attack other people. Today, certainly from I’ve seen so far in America, people’s ideas / beliefs of what it means to be a socialist or liberal are too distorted to allow me to place such a label on myself without the need to then describe at great length why or what those those labels mean to me.
I am a liberal if all that I’ve said above makes me one. I’m also a Socialist if all that I’ve said above makes me one. For what it’s worth, I do believe in everything I said above; I do believe that people should have equality and freedom and liberties but I also believe that we need a selected group of people, a government, to ensure that we continue to enjoy such equality, freedoms and liberties and to protect us from those that attempt to take them away from us. I believe that we, the people, have certain rights but I believe an individuals right should not be to the detriment of another person’s or of the peoples. In order to achieve this balance, we, as individuals have to accept that there are restrictions on our actions to protect the freedoms of others.
I know what I am, politically and socially speaking and I know what others label me as. For the most part, whilst they might mean to insult and belittle me, I accept some of those labels because I’m educated and open minded enough to know what those labels truly mean, at least what they used to mean when people first described those terms. To many Americans I am a socialist. I’ll accept that one. To many Americans I’m therefore a communist but that one I will argue I am not whilst I shake my head at their ignorance. And now it seems if [this] person is typical of many (right wing) American people, I’m also a “libtard”.
Call me what you like, my eyes and my mind are open and for as long as they remain so, I’ll continue to believe in everything I’ve said here.
Shame on you. Shame on you.

Originally posted on October 3, 2012 at http://iamfranksbitch.tumblr.com/

Our Guest Bloggers From the Past:Guest Blogger, Kerry Stott (@kerrystott), Writes About...

• Our New Guest Blogger (2011)
• Depression (2011)
• "Us & Them" Mentality (2011)
• Suicide (2011)
• Endopsychic Energy (2011)
• S.A.D. (2011)
• Anxiety (2011)
• Fear (National Breast Cancer Awareness Month) (2011)
• Insomnia (2011)
• Personal Problem Solving (2011)
• Our Guest Blogger Writes About...Meeting Us! (2012)
• How Risk Feels (2012)
• Therapeutic Alliance (2012)
• Personality Disorder (2012)
• Psychiatrists, Are They Devil Incarnate (2012)
• Stress (2012)
• Diagnosis (2012)
• Positive Affirmation (2012)
• Anger (2012)

The Single Mom @singlemomdate

• We Get A Guest Blogger - Kinky Sex!  (2011)

Jake @Onezees

• How To Tie A Nose With Words  (2011)
• A Guest Blogger Writes Stuff  (2011)

Just A General How Do You Do

The weather roller coater is really doing a number on our joints and back, and yesterday we slept in so long we decided to skip the coffee, which resulted in a day of being comatose and an early night to bed. Part of our decision to leave the house today and get some fresh air.

We ended up getting invited to the family gathering on Thursday night, and decided today that we'll go. After this blog entry we'll hit the shower and then the road.

It might be one of the last times we get to see Grandma, and that's the driving source behind our decision, even though last time we saw her it was really hard. Also, we're sure our absence would do nothing but encourage family members to talk, and speculate, as to our whereabouts - we've been to enough family gatherings to know how that goes with other people who aren't around. They like to talk, and gossip, and talk.

Anyway, we'll going to try to keep politics off of the table, because we don't really need to have discussions with people who aren't informed. Heads up: we'll be re-reading the new UN Arms Treaty, just in case, even though we already know it has provisions for granting and keeping personal rights to firearms written in there, the gun-totting conspiracy theorists, however, make their wild claims. Some of these conspiracy theorists reside in our family...should be fun. *shakes head Nooooooo*

"They" (conspiracy theorists) are the kinds of people who want to tell you who you can love, and what decisions you can make with your body, but GOD FORBID you touch their guns...even though nobody is trying to, they will spread their conspiracy. Meanwhile, government imposing on real human rights, why should they care...they have guns. BUT DON'T TOUCH THEM.

(if you know us from our past writing, or from following us on social media, you know that we are not anti-gun, far from it...)

We digress. Lest we get too fired up...like we did Wednesday night when we posted this to Facebook at 1:35am:

"We've spent some time on various "news sources" (wacko websites spewing speculation and ignorance based on news, so shit deep you could scuba dive for days) this evening, reading the most outrageous conspiratorial bullshit we've ever read in our entire life...and trust us, we've made simple claims in the past that have made people slap the conspiracy label on us. But these people, with their hate-

speak, backed with uninformed ignorance, are borderline dangerous to the general public.

Tonight, however, we also learned that reading and comprehension is as much dead as common sense, and they go hand in hand. Well, we had our suspicion anyway...

First, people (proud gun tottin' citizens) should realize:
The government, and the people in your country, do not want to take away your godforsaken guns. They want regulation to keep the "free" people of this country safer. If you are not being deceptive, or planning on breaking the law, regulation should not make you crazy with irrational fear. Going all batshit over it makes you look like you are guilty of something, or trying to get away with something. It's highly suspicious.

Second, separation of church and state is simply that. By preaching politics at the pulpit, while taking advantage of government tax exemption, churches are breaking the guidelines set forth by the constitution. THEY are the ones disrespecting the constitution.

Third, church and state being separate also means that according to the constitution you are not allowed to make laws based on your religious belief. That's what SEPARATE means.

Stop cherry picking the constitution and warping it to fit your needs, as a document it's pretty clear cut. Blowing shit out of proportion because of selfishness, hatred, and irrational fear of the wild creations that exist in your imagination, is what is destroying America. Hatred, intolerance, greed.

Furthermore, it's deplorable and disgusting for humans to stand by their guns and constitution, waving the flag, "preaching" their "unalienable God given rights", preaching Gods love, and claiming things like ACCESS TO FOOD ISN'T A BASIC RIGHT GRANTED BY GOD.
It's not just a right, it's a requirement as a living creature*.

Guns are a right, but nutrition isn't??

Are you fucking kidding.

Some people need their heads screwed on straight.

(*You want to talk about how over time people have come to depend on businesses to provide affordable food, as resources and incentive to grow, raise and prepare your own declined under the industrialized of the food supply, we can have that conversation.)"

Anyway, like we said...we have to go shower, and prepare...for trying to keep our mouth shut.

~ Frankie et al

A Family Picnic Day

Today was fun, for the most part, lots of laughing with family we haven't seen in a couple of years (again), the required catching up, seeing new additions to cousins' families...and then we went to see Grandma because she wasn't able to be taken to the picnic with her oxygen tank.

We had to leave after about 20 minutes of conversation when we started to cry a bit, went to the washroom to hide it, and then came out to say goodbye.

During the 20 minutes Grandma told us of things that had happened, going for a walk "West" that got her put into a different, more controlled, part of the facility where she lives, because she hadn't let them know she was going for that walk. She filled us in on all the things we knew about, but pretended was fairly new information, and then she started talking about "Angry Brother" and how he had gotten married recently, after more discussion about "The Father"...recapping things from distant past, like when The Mother left him (and for some reason she though had taken "the kids and left"), and of course she used his name, instead of "your dad" which is the usual way she would have referenced him, and then the part that made us cry..."they (referring to our mother and father) had a girl too, I can't remember her name though..." she trailed off...and it became clear she didn't know who we were. As she looked off, trying to remember the name of the daughter, her second grandchild by mere weeks, us, we turned to James, the sadness and pain he felt for us that we could see in his face, and our own sadness, brought tears we could not hide to our eyes.

Excusing ourself we went to the washroom, we didn't want her to see us crying.

When we came out, after freshening our face, we said we had to go.

Hugging her tiny frail shoulders tight, she didn't bring her own arms up to hug us; we whispered "Bye, Grandma, I love you..." knowing it would be the last time, likely, that we would ever see her. Last week they had found her on the floor in her apartment, blue from lack of oxygen. One of our aunts cryptically gave her a week and a half to live. We leave for the UK in just over a month.

We hugged her again, for good measure, and made sure to call her "Grandma" one last time, in hopes that after we left she could put two-and-two together and recall who we are, as she sat in the chair of her small room, facing the window, still trying to figure out which direction she was facing, and get her barrings straight, which was what she was doing when we had arrived 20 minutes earlier.

She said she hoped she would see us again soon, as we hugged her that second time, and we responded with a similar desire. We walked out crying, for many reasons.

And now we are home, cracking a bottle of wine, and contemplating the day, having seen cousins we miss dearly, some of who have formed there own little "mommy" group, of which we will never be a part; and those who are still getting their future together, having left home for a bit, and then came back with a better idea of who they are, and what they want out of life. Being the second oldest of the children of our aunts and uncles, at 32, it is interesting to see those who have surpassed us in "adulthood" (having children, getting married) though much younger, and those who are blazing a trail of a different nature, and enjoying life in a different way.

Once we are done with our stay in Europe, and come back to start our farm, we hope that life will include a little more family than it has the last...well...13-15 years, since we graduated high school and "left home". A bit, anyway.

If you ask James about what it was like to meet our family, large in quantity and in stature, he would probably tell you they are a really good natured bunch, and it was definitely an interesting experience meeting them. All the better he really likes The Father, and has already surpassed more time spent getting to know him than any other man we have dated.

Maybe this feels like a good year for things, all things considered...and maybe even better ones after that.

Home Safe and Rambling

Made it home safe, after driving through many a countryside with water washed over the road. The exhaust system on the car cacked out on the first long dirt road we hit early in the day, and so now you can hear us coming half a mile away, literally. The car is old though and we've put over 5,000 miles on it this month, so, the poor thing, what can we expect.

We have pictures of the water covered roads, but honestly we're a little to tired to go look for the cord to attach to the computer to take them off of the device.

Saturday we might be on a mini-roadtrip again, a family picnic.
We haven't been to one of those in...years. Grandma is ill, one of the aunts has given her a week or so to live (a few of our aunts are nurses). She was found passed out this last week in her room, blue. She's been on oxygen for awhile and hasn't been doing well since Grandpa passed, she's been slowly getting worse.

We did some more property hunting before getting home, looking at four in total, two we really liked (one had just gotten an offer, however), one that was a straight "no", and one that may have been too far in the country (not near any "large" city) to meet our complete needs.

Our dream property, which we plan to put an offer on, is 40 acres of trees, pasture, and a nice sized yard with a big beautiful oak tree and a horseshoe driveway. Nice buildings and a house that was under remodel that needs to be finished. It would be nice if it turned in our favour, but we plan to start with an embarrassingly low offer. We can almost hear them laughing hundreds of miles away in the future. It's worth a try, though.

Mostly we've been good, mentally, from what we currently know. Quite a bit of anxiety, and a little anger, but it's all the usual really. No day is perfect, we just don't feel the need to say that the day was "only mildly suckie" most every day. There is no point in dwelling on the mundane misery, especially when we are creating a future for ourselves.

For now we dream, we dream big, we dream hopeful, we dream about our future, and we will not let disappointment break us down. At least not with this dream, right now. (We're trying to be inspirational for each other...)

We'll go now.

A Homey Place To Stay

That feeling that we should be doing something more is just hovering on the surface. We have so much in our head we want to get out, things we want to accomplish, yet once we get to opening up a new document, or starting a new post, working on a project, it buries itself deep, and hides.

The weekend was pretty crap, from what I understand. Today feels better. We've returned to my favourite hotel, the one in a small village, a hamlet. It's a 16th century hotel (built in the 1500's), with amazing rates that include free breakfast. A proper breakfast too, your choice off of a menu, plus pastries, and coffee, and juice. It's a lovely breakfast.

The village is pretty, last time we were here, last week, we took a lot of pictures and even got inspired for a new photography project. This is our third visit, and this time we'll be here for a few days, until about Thursday. It's really too bad I don't have my paints and canvas here.

The smell of the hotel reminds us of our favourite Grandmas house growing up, old wood, coffee and home cooked foods, making it feel homey, which in turn causes us to feel more relaxed and happy than we have. Nothing bad ever happens at Grandmas...at least ours.

The staff of the hotel is so friendly, and the waiter in the pub/restaurant downstairs is an Italian man who is straight out of a movie, quirky, comical and full of energy. The food is good, the rooms are each unique, this being the third room we've stayed in, different from all the previous ones. The place has a lot of character.

While this may seem like some vacation to some, we are seem to be living in England with James, moving around, on a limited budget, because James' flat sold. He is picking up short contracts here and there since not getting the last major one renewed a couple of weeks ago.

Last night we went to dinner for the first time in days, to a place called ChimiChanga; it was nice to have a bit of Mexican, reminded us of home. We have been saving funds by having pre-cooked chicken and buns, salads from grocery store delis, as well as snacks such as yogurt, cereals and fruits, rather than eating at restaurants, or having fast food. It's a fun thing to try to figure out how to cut costs on food by inventing new meal ideas that are balanced of all food groups. Hotels in England don't have microwaves or those small refrigerators, at least none of the ones we have looked into staying at, or have stayed at. Not even that crappy Holiday Inn Express we stayed at one night last week. For breakfast I had an apple and coffee, and for lunch I had two cookies that came with the room, and a cup of soup (this is all very thrilling to you, I am sure).

Not sure what the deal was with the last hotel, it was nice, reminiscent of photos of what the Oval Office looked like in 70's, beige colours with a high ceiling and textured wallpaper below narrow chair railing running around the expanse of the room, and the front hall. It was situated in the countryside outside of Ipswich, England, very beautiful but not much in the way of...exciting.  While it was clean and decent, it had a sort of The Shinning feeling to it, and left us feeling uneasy, and unhappy (not that it was the buildings fault we were unhappy). It's nice to be back, to feel comfortable and have a place to try to get our mental shit together again. A place that feels a bit like home now.

Tomorrow morning will mark one week of our new, temporary, nomad lifestyle. Adventure, because why not.

~ Ivy et al

Home for a couple of days (so far the nicest room we've had here)
(at £29 a night, when you have no place to live, it's a bargain!)

Photos from last weeks visit, and where we are staying for, likely, the remainder of the week.

Back entrance of the hotel

The Guild Room, where you can hang out and read.
It's a lovely room

Scenes from about the village...

We'll write about it more, and add more pictures, including the name of it, when we write about it in our travel blog (Our Frank Adventures). Also, when we aren't staying here anymore (for paranoid reasons).

Really old tree at one of the the village cemeteries. (James figures it's at least 1000 years old)

A Visit With Grandma

We went to see our Grandmother in the nursing home today, along with The Father, to say goodbye to her, and him, before we leave on Thursday to England.  It was a struggle to keep the tears back at first, watching her, realizing this might be a real goodbye, to one of them. We hadn't seen her in a year and a half.

Watching the elderly people with their walkers, in their wheelchairs, wandering about was so sad, but in a terrifying way. We are not ashamed to say we are more terrified of growing older, than we are of actual death.

The nursing home is one typical to a small town, cozy, clean and well kept with cheery nurses. All the people know each other, The Father's old school-bus driver's widow sits at Grandma's table during meal time every day, as well as two other ladies who raised their children alongside Grandma in a smaller town, twenty minutes outside of the one where they all now share their accommodations.

We were in the dining room of Grandma's retirement home, we had shown up over an hour earlier to find her sitting in a chair staring into space, alone, looking so small. Her short stature has gotten even shorter over the years due to osteoporosis from overall lack of calcium, hard farm labor, and birthing and raising seven children. She had been sitting there waiting because the nursing staff had told them that if the residents were not in the dining room by 2pm then they wouldn't get their snack for the day, so she was waiting, even before 1pm, though her room is right around the corner of the dining room. I could tell she didn't recognize me until halfway through the first hour, after sitting and listening to her talk about her confusion over her recent incontenance.

Grandmas heart is not functioning at full power, the doctors say it sounds like a washing machine in there. Her legs, after a life time of severe vericous vein problems, are puffy inside her circulation socks. Her circulation is so poor her lips intermittently turn blue as she talks, and boy, can Grandma talk. She is frail, her once strong shoulders hunched in her chair as she eats the chocolate ice cream cone The Father has brought her as a treat.

We sit there next to The Father, trying to get a word in edgewise, as Grandma talks and talks, and we down cup, after cup, of coffee. She's always been a talker. She mentions she is consciously drinking more water lately but her tongue seems to keep getting dry. Later we joke with The Father that we should have told her if she didn't talk so much she wouldn't have such a dry tongue. She probably would have laughed and or giggled about that, and jested about flapping her tongue. The people in our family tend to have a good sense of humor, and even at her age she is no different.

The Father nudges us at the table, trying to get us to tell Grandma what we've been up to, it's hard to interrupt...we don't want to set her off track or confuse her. We mention we're leaving for England on Thursday, this starts her off talking about one of our aunts who has just went to some foreign country for nursing work for a few days. All in all we get very few words in but we manage to get across that we will be gone for a few months and we introduce her to James.

"I didn't see you there, you're a shadow against the light" she says, because the sun shines nearby him. We've already been there a good 30 minutes. She finds out he is from England and she says "You know real English then!" she chuckles. 

She continues to talk about people and places that we don't know, and telling stories that are actually many separate stories, some which are not factual; and recalling people from when she was as young as two."That was a few years ago, hey ma?" The Father grins, jokingly.

She smiles, laughs, and says "Give or take a few years". The smile on her face is beautiful.

It was about 2:10pm and people started to file in for snack time.

"I don't know why they started having snack time in the morning" says an older woman at an adjoining table.

Some of the other women look at each other, you can tell the different levels of cognitive awareness and functionality, as one tries to explain to another what the woman had said, and on her face you can plainly see her thoughts. Where have you been all day, it's clearly afternoon...

Having lived for a few months in a facility for the elderly, we know, and it reminds us. People judge others until the day they die, it's ageless.
We get up from the table, kiss and hug Grandma goodbye, leaving her with her snack of peach cobbler sans whipped cream, "because I don't want to have to buy new clothes" she laughs, explaining to the staff, as they pour her coffee. 

I realize this may be the last time we see her, she's 82 and not in good health, and after losing grandpa just over two years ago, she's already survived longer than most of the people in our family probably expected her to. 

On the over hour long drive home we tell James things we remember about her, and things many people don't know, private things that she's told us as an adult that, for us, highlight her free spirit and stubbornness, and also reinforce her ability to be the biggest supporter of her grandchildren, having almost unconditional love for some of them, even the ones that make US look like we have our shit together. An ability no doubt born out of a lifetime of hard experience. She, and our Grandfather, had always been the most positive influences in our life, living a life dedicated and faithful to God, without pressing upon people their beliefs, as respected members of their community. Preaching by example only.

When we were young Grandma used to tell us she wanted to be a gypsy, because of the travel, and she definitely had an adventurous soul that had been tamed by marriage and children, an adventure in itself that she excelled at. She loves wide open spaces and farmland; used to be a great cook, raising seven strapping children, with low income, on a dairy farm with the addition of produce from several large home gardens, canned and stored in the cellar; fresh country cooking, never skimping on the lard. She cooked and prepared wild game hunted by the men of the family in the Fall, and helped jar the maple syrup made from the trees tapped by her children, and grandchildren, on their land, in Spring. She used to make her own soap, sewed her children's clothing and raised beautiful flower gardens. In the early summer she would serve bowls of fresh raspberries and cream to her grandchildren for snack time, and the smell of "Grandma's house", was always of coffee and bacon, the happiest smells in the world.

Grandma always portrayed an air of independence, even now in her frail state she fancies the idea of buying a house in the small town she lives in, even though she must understand she cannot take care of herself any longer. She has recently been moved to a more full-service care section of the nursing home.

She has always been smart and educated, though not without that "charming" small town American perception of none European-Americans. She is of that age, and small country living, that news programs are, and have been, a primarily influence on the character of many races of people; we have always been willing to overlook it, because she is not hateful about it, she is simply a product of a sheltered life.

Moving about the United States as a young adult, she would always find joy in our frequent letters, and on occasion she would correct our grammar, and punctuation, in the letters we wrote to her. Had she had her way as a young woman, with her passion for words, grammar, and proper English, she would have been an English teacher. 

We are trying to be okay with the facts of old age, and we wanted to honor Grandma while the memories of our visit with her, and memories we have of her, are fresh and at the surface. Such a visit is sobering, and sad, and causes for some reflection.

This entry is to serve as a memory, for all of us, to share with all of you, of an amazing woman in the winter of her life.

~Frank et al

Something About Boredom

Boredom.

People say it often…and a lot on Twitter, surprisingly.

“I’m BORED”…

What does it mean to be bored?

Merriam Webster says being bored is “the state of being weary and restless through lack of interest”…Wikipedia says “Boredom is an emotional state experienced when an individual is without any activity or is not interested in their surroundings.”

Boredom, is a word first recorded in a text by Charles Dickens, (Bleak House – 1852) and used to describe something “tiresome or dull" since 1768.

Our Grandmother (The Father’s Mother) used to tell us all the time that there is no reason for boredom. She made it clear to us that boredom was something people with no imagination experienced, probably at the age of 8 or 9 we knew better than to express “boredom” in front of Grandma!

But we were hardly ever bored as children anyway; there were books, paper and pens. Just those alone were enough to sustain us for hours and days. We just wanted to be left alone with books and paper.

So why do people get bored? Why do some of you get bored?

According to the guy who writes for Dragos Roua (http://www.dragosroua.com) “boredom is a state of anxiety and low self-respect.” He’s got some interesting things to say about people and why they get bored; instead of repeating it here we’ll just give you the link: http://www.dragosroua.com/how-and-why-we-get-bored/. You can figure out if he knows what he’s talking about at all.

This isn’t a super inspiring blog post, we know. Despite the fact we are many (which makes boredom easy to avoid)…when we are not many (because sometimes it’s just one of us)…we still don’t understand boredom, so we wanted to field the question: How/why do people get bored?!

In a world with book, movies, music, video games, cultural activities, internet (and EVERYTHING that entails), gyms, computers (non-internet attached and all that THAT entails), cable television…not to mention…imagination, paper, pens, craft supplies, art supplies…it’s endless…how are people fucking bored.

Sometimes we get anxious, all of us individually, and it’s not from boredom, it’s from the sheer amount of stuff we can/could/want to be doing!

There are no limits…how can anyone be bored with no limits?!

~Frank et al

Didn't like this post? Want more to read because you're bored? Yesterday's post gave an example of one of the ways we entertain ourselves, plus at the bottom some links to our best/more interesting writing on this blog. Check it our here: http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/2011/11/show-and-tell.html