talking with grampa

                I had a little conversation with my Grampa last night. I was saying goodnight to him, and he mentioned that he’d talked to my Uncle Charles on the phone that morning. That led to the fact that my twin cousins are turning 25 this month. Grampa remarked that he had a 36-year-old granddaughter and was about to have 25-year-old granddaughters. I added that Zoe was going to turn 15, and he asked when her birthday was. It’s in August, a couple weeks away from my aunt Gail’s.

                “Oh, goodness,” said Grampa, “When your Aunt Gail was born, I was stationed Camp _____. No, it was Camp ____. [The first one] is on the East Coast, and [the second one] is on the West Coast. I remember hanging around the phones… Someone let me stay at the phones that day, because they knew I was waiting for the news of Gail’s birth.”

                “Really?” I asked. “How old was she before you saw her?”

                “Oh, I’d say she was five months old, at least… There’s a bit of a story that goes along with the first time I saw her. Your Grammy Joyce was flying out [from Maine] to be with me [in California], and she was, of course, bringing Gail. I had friends that were going to go get her from the airport and bring them to me, but I was impatient. I hitchhiked. I guess I was a fairly new convert back then, and I probably told God that, if He gave me a ride, I would witness to the driver.

                “Well, there are (or were) two airports in LA, which was a big city even then. They’ve got a good 60 miles between them, and I didn’t know which one Joyce was flying into.

                “I got a ride, and it turned out that the man who drove me was in the travel business, and was able to tell me which airport she was probably coming into!

                “We lived there in California until the time of or after my discharge. Oh, we were there until there was a steel shortage and my factory didn’t have work for me any more. We decided that we thought it was important, for some reason, that we come back up here.”

                “Well,” I started, but Grampa had more to say.

                “Oh, no, dear, I’m not complaining or saying we should’ve stayed there, I just wonder why we thought it was so important.”

                “Well, your families were here, weren’t they?”

                “Yes, I suppose they were. And a big part of it was that I wanted to come home and share the Gospel with them… I came home to find that they’d all already heard it and turned it down. Well, anyway…

                “Then David was born, then Bruce, then Rodney, Charles,” -Grampa paused for a moment here- “and Jessie. And after that, we weren’t going anywhere!” He laughed.

                “Then Jessie went down South, and never really came back.

                “You know, you’ve probably all heard me say it before, but it tickled me when I found out that Jared was marrying a New Hampshire woman.”  Gramp chuckled.

                “You probably thought it was pretty ironic, huh?”

                “I s’pose I did. And then Lydia moved to Massachusetts, and Jared and Rebecca had Addie, and Grammy and Grampa like to be with their grandbabies…”

                “Did you ever think, when Mom went down to West Virginia for college and told you she was marrying Dad, she’d move back up here?”

                “No, I don’t think I had any expectation of her moving. But you know, I owe a lot to your Dad. He’s always been good about making sure you all got up here every year… Otherwise, we would have had grandkids we really never knew. I’m very grateful to your father for that.”

Me too, Gramp, me too.

P.S.: I never thought she’d move back up here either.

I really enjoyed talking to Grampa last night. I don't get a lot of one-on-one time with him, and it was great to hear his story. I'm extremely thankful for Grampa, who is 80 or 81 years old and still manages to go around and help just about everyone he can. 

Grampa's hands are about twice the size of those of most men. I would not be surprised to hear anyone say his hands are enormous- or that his heart is twice as big.

blah.

                After this weekend of positive insanity, I want to just do nothing all day today. Well, I want to do some things (read Harry Potter, watch Gilmore Girls, play computer games…), just not anything constructive (mainly school and cleaning). I’ve basically been procrastinating for the two hours I’ve been awake this morning… I will, however, buckle down and really do school (as opposed to sort of doing school in between sort of just putting it off) in a few minutes.After all, I want to get a little ahead for our trip to WV in a couple weeks...

                P.S.: I'm extremely, extremely excited about going to West Virginia. I can't wait to see my family and friends :)

the incredible dashing lowinis

                This has been a crazy weekend. Crazy, crazy, crazy.

                It started Friday afternoon. Zoe and I went to the doctor for a check-up, and wound up needing some shots (side note: my arms are sore, almost like I’ve been lifting weights or something. I feel like I should have gigantic biceps in a couple days).

                Then, it was home again for a few minutes before rushing off to a sleepover with a friend. We went to bed around 2 Saturday morning and I woke up around 9:30.

                After a couple hours hanging out there at her house that morning, we went home for an hour or so before heading to my niece Ruby’s first birthday party. That was awesome, because I got to play with her a lot. We practiced walking, we talked about shoes (no seriously. She was in love with the shoes she got for her birthday.), and there was a lot of baby-flying going on. :)

                 We got home, and I swore that I was going to bed at 10:30. Making one last Facebook check about that time, I wound up chatting with my friends for an hour and a half or so. I needed to talk to them, though, so it was all good. :)

               
                 For 2 or 3 weeks, we’ve been planning a surprise party for my Dad’s 50^th birthday. The idea was a night of worship, and Jared and Lydia were coming with bands from their churches (I sang with Jared). A college kid from the church was also going to play a few songs with his sister, and Zoe and I were singing a song with his sister also.

This morning I got up and went to church. After church, the madness began. We came home for lunch, and then Dad went out fishing with a friend from church. We ran over to the church and started fixing things. We were arranging tables and cooking with help from some marvelous women from the church ALL afternoon.

                Jared and his band started to arrive around 3:30. They set up, we went through a couple songs, I made Powerpoint, Lydia and co. got there and ran through a few songs.

                Meanwhile, the fishing friend was putting his elaborate plan into action. He was showing Dad a couple places to fish. Right when they were supposed to leave, Dad caught another fish! He didn’t want to leave after that, but he was convinced in a few minutes. He was a little late, but it was alright, because Lydia had also been late and had a chance to run through a few songs.

                So they pulled into the empty parking lot, and the fishing friend told Dad he needed help loading a couple tables into his truck (to get Dad into the church). So, we hid there in the dark and waited for Dad to put some fishing stuff away on the porch before helping with the tables.

                He finally came in, and was totally surprised.

                We got the music going after a few minutes, and it went very well. I loved singing with my brother, although apparently not many people could hear me (despite the fact that my mic was almost all the way up and I was practically swallowing it as I sang with as much volume as I could possibly give it). I may be voiceless tomorrow, but if I am, it was worth it! :)
               
                We got home a few minutes ago, and I peeked at one of the presents Dad had brought home without unwrapping. As he was in the kitchen cleaning his fish, I stage-whispered to my mom and sister: “Somebody gave Dad Crabtree and Evelyn Tiny Tails shampoo, cream, and powder!!” (ok, so  it wasn’t quite that detailed, but yeah.) As we were trying to figure out who in the world would have given that stuff to my dad, checking for cards and looking at the blank tag on the bag, we figured out that it had been for someone else. Then, we realized: it was Aunt Gail’s gift for Ruby! Hahaha :)

I am almost totally happy and not-just-almost totally exhausted. Going to bed now (or soon, anyway).