There is something going on at Love Monster, Smirker and Spiderman's schools. Every one of them. And I am convinced that all parents and grandparents have experienced this feeling one time or another. Equipped with their Elsa or Anna, Star Wars or Batman backpacks, we see them off at school, give them a hug, wave and tell them we will see them after school. Sometimes they look back with a smile and wave. Other times they simply turn and race to the door and are gone - inside the place that is their own for the next few hours.
There is something clandestine, hush-hush and mysterious about this place they call "school". Don't you think? I just know it because when we ask them what they did at school, the responses are eerily the same:
"Nothing."
or better yet -
"I can't tell you."
Seriously, they can't tell us?
Did you color? Draw? (A blank stare.)
Did you work on you numbers? Letters? (I can almost read Love Monster's mind - "My Lips are sealed!"
Did you read? Play with your friends? (Smirker just looks at you with her patented sly grin - but says nothing)
What is going on inside this building? What do they do all day long? Most of us will simply push it aside thinking there is just so much going on that it's hard for a he/she to come up with something specific or there was nothing particular worth talking about. But maybe....just maybe, it's something else!
Sooner or later our (ok, my) mind begins to let the imagination go wild. Do they put their backpacks and coats in their cubby and enter a secret passage way for their real lessons? Have they taken an oath not tell anyone (except their friends) what really goes on at school? Are they being trained as spies? (Grambo has nothing on Secret Agents 0208 (Love Monster), 0918 (Smirker) or 1204 (Spiderman). Have they sworn secrecy to their handlers...I mean, teachers?
Maybe they are being trained as astronauts? Or Code Breakers to solve the world's hacking crimes?
When I ask Spiderman what he had for a snack, he ignores the question and asks if we can go see some freight trains. What are they feeding them instead of pretzels, carrots or other foods that kids aren't allergic too? Is it some kind of lab created goo like the astronauts get to prepare them for god knows what?
School can be a mystery sometimes. But not because of my silly musings, as far out and absurd as they might be.
Up until their introduction to formal schooling, their lives have been indelibly intertwined with their care givers. They are together all the time. Love Monster, Smirker and Spiderman (and all other kids) now have something that is their own. Something that their parents or grandparents aren't a part of for those few hours. And they choose to hold it close. They are growing up.
And that is more than Ok. But we will still ask them what they did at school. Maybe they will slip up and reveal the wonders of the day.
Friday, October 31, 2014
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
From Batman to Ballboy
Sounds like the sad tale of a baseball player's precipitous and unlikely decent from superstardom to a position generally held by the teenage son of someone high up in the team's organization.
But, it's really about a new name I have given to our 18 month old grandson. Most toddlers like balls but Ballboy has place The Ball on a pedestal above almost anything else.
As the essential feature of many forms of play, usually requiring physical exertion, the ball is nearly as old as civilization itself. Some form of game with a ball is found portrayed on Egyptian monuments. Like few other playthings, the ball facilitates and promotes free play among people of all ages. A rolling object appeals not only to people but to a kitten or puppy. In 2009, the Ball was inducted into the Toy Hall of Fame located in Rochester, NY. I say - what took them so long?! Play-Doh, Etch-a-Sketch, The Frisbee, G.I.Joe and the Jack-in-the-Box all made it in before the Ball. The Etch-a-Sketch is amazing, but really - before the ancient and ubiquitous ball?
Ballboy likes balls of all shapes, sizes and colors but has become particularly attached to these small rubber balls we picked up at the local toy store. They were on sale, 3 for $.80 vs. the regular price of $8.00 (who would pay that much for 3 Angry Bird balls?), so we snatched up a few of them. They are the size of a golf ball fitting perfectly in each of Ballboy's hands and he carries them everywhere - around the house, while sitting in his car seat and even while he is eating (food in one hand and a ball in the other). I think he feels some comfort in clenching them in his tiny hands.
The other day he figured out that he can actually carry 3 at one time by placing one under his chin! Very inventive Ballboy! I think he has has the potential to one day be listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the youngest juggler. The only problem is that to juggle you actually have to throw them in the air - something Ballboy is not willing to do. Once he has them in his grip, he won't let go. This can be hazardous to his health. A couple of times after he first learned to walk, he was moving too fast and fell over right on his nose. But do you think he would let go of those red and green balls still in his hands? Much to our surprise, they can also actually avert injury. One day he was carrying a large ball in both hands and took an ill-advised step off the driveway on to our brick patio. By not letting go of the ball, he merely bounced off the stones and got up without a scratch.
One day I asked his brother, Spiderman, what he wanted for lunch. Ballboy, who I think loves meal time as much as balls, looked over and said with total conviction - "ball". Spiderman went into apoplexy with laughter. He thought that was the funniest thing he had ever heard and, of course, made me repeat the conversation multiple times. Ballboy's first joke.
When he starts talking in more complete sentences, I wouldn't be surprised to hear him say -
"Did you hear the one about the ball that rolled into the bar...?"
But, it's really about a new name I have given to our 18 month old grandson. Most toddlers like balls but Ballboy has place The Ball on a pedestal above almost anything else.
As the essential feature of many forms of play, usually requiring physical exertion, the ball is nearly as old as civilization itself. Some form of game with a ball is found portrayed on Egyptian monuments. Like few other playthings, the ball facilitates and promotes free play among people of all ages. A rolling object appeals not only to people but to a kitten or puppy. In 2009, the Ball was inducted into the Toy Hall of Fame located in Rochester, NY. I say - what took them so long?! Play-Doh, Etch-a-Sketch, The Frisbee, G.I.Joe and the Jack-in-the-Box all made it in before the Ball. The Etch-a-Sketch is amazing, but really - before the ancient and ubiquitous ball?
Ballboy likes balls of all shapes, sizes and colors but has become particularly attached to these small rubber balls we picked up at the local toy store. They were on sale, 3 for $.80 vs. the regular price of $8.00 (who would pay that much for 3 Angry Bird balls?), so we snatched up a few of them. They are the size of a golf ball fitting perfectly in each of Ballboy's hands and he carries them everywhere - around the house, while sitting in his car seat and even while he is eating (food in one hand and a ball in the other). I think he feels some comfort in clenching them in his tiny hands.
The other day he figured out that he can actually carry 3 at one time by placing one under his chin! Very inventive Ballboy! I think he has has the potential to one day be listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the youngest juggler. The only problem is that to juggle you actually have to throw them in the air - something Ballboy is not willing to do. Once he has them in his grip, he won't let go. This can be hazardous to his health. A couple of times after he first learned to walk, he was moving too fast and fell over right on his nose. But do you think he would let go of those red and green balls still in his hands? Much to our surprise, they can also actually avert injury. One day he was carrying a large ball in both hands and took an ill-advised step off the driveway on to our brick patio. By not letting go of the ball, he merely bounced off the stones and got up without a scratch.
One day I asked his brother, Spiderman, what he wanted for lunch. Ballboy, who I think loves meal time as much as balls, looked over and said with total conviction - "ball". Spiderman went into apoplexy with laughter. He thought that was the funniest thing he had ever heard and, of course, made me repeat the conversation multiple times. Ballboy's first joke.
When he starts talking in more complete sentences, I wouldn't be surprised to hear him say -
"Did you hear the one about the ball that rolled into the bar...?"
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Grandfodder - Plus 1 Year
It's been a year since I started this journey and I have found it rewarding and challenging. In my initial research I couldn't find any blogs out there in the internet universe from the grandfather's viewpoint. But then again, I can be cyberspace - challenged! I did eventually find one comrade-in-arms in the UK. Check out Square Sunshine at http://square-sunshine.blogspot.co.uk. Some great writing and views not only about his grandchildren but about every day stuff. Thanks for the inspiration, MH.
After a year of writing, I have found that the subject matter has evolved from being just about the grandchildren to include other things important to me as an aging (but still alive and curious) baby boomer. So while I will continue to write, sparked by my 4 grandchildren's adventures and pearls of wisdom, you will likely see some other topics sprinkled in when the spirit moves me. My daughter is right - writing is cathartic and something that just needs to be done. I am learning as I go. Thanks and love to my daughter.
A big hug and kiss to the 4 darlings that have motivated me by just being themselves - Love Monster, Smirker, Spiderman and Batman. You are the best.
And thanks to all those that have read my words during this experiment in letting go (I can just hear Love Monster and Smirker, singing "Let it Go, Let it Go".) Actually very apropos. I hope you continue to keep reading and let others know if you so choose.
Until next month - after our trip to Ireland! Another pint of Guinness please!
After a year of writing, I have found that the subject matter has evolved from being just about the grandchildren to include other things important to me as an aging (but still alive and curious) baby boomer. So while I will continue to write, sparked by my 4 grandchildren's adventures and pearls of wisdom, you will likely see some other topics sprinkled in when the spirit moves me. My daughter is right - writing is cathartic and something that just needs to be done. I am learning as I go. Thanks and love to my daughter.
A big hug and kiss to the 4 darlings that have motivated me by just being themselves - Love Monster, Smirker, Spiderman and Batman. You are the best.
And thanks to all those that have read my words during this experiment in letting go (I can just hear Love Monster and Smirker, singing "Let it Go, Let it Go".) Actually very apropos. I hope you continue to keep reading and let others know if you so choose.
Until next month - after our trip to Ireland! Another pint of Guinness please!
Sunday, August 24, 2014
You Really Got Me
I recently read an article entitled "It's Not Music To Your Ears?"It focused on several studies that have been done indicating there are people who are indifferent to music. They have no physical response nor do they feel any emotional pleasure in hearing music. It's not that they have an inability to distinguish pitch or tones (known as Amusia), but these people simply do not like music. They don't seek it out nor do they own any music. It's called Music Anhedonia. One person surveyed said listening to music was exhausting and likened it to going to the gym!
I was astonished - flabbergasted - speechless. I could not wrap my mind around this phenomena. I guess it makes sense that, like everything else, not everyone will like a particular idea or thing. But I simply cannot identify with anyone that doesn't care for music at all. Ironically, I had been considering writing about my love of music and this article helped provide an additional perspective.
Now I am not a professional musician. I am not proficient with any instrument although I love to play around with both the piano and hammered dulcimer. I enjoy singing in the church choir but as a member of the chorus only and not as a soloist. I have not studied music on an academic level. But I have a real appreciation and heart felt passion for music.
What is it about music that evokes a positive, pleasurable response? More interesting to me - why do people respond on different levels to the marriage of carefully crafted tones and lyrics - even to the same song?
Many of us respond instantly to a certain song because of the beat or rhythm. It's catchy. We all like patterns. Some like the melody. Some may find the lyrics resonate with them. Still others like a song because it, or more likely the artist, is fashionable or trendy (#1 on iTunes). Then there is the song that brings back memories of high school, college or a certain boy or girl. We all have those.
I am well aware that all music is not beautiful, meaningful nor makes one feel good. There are plenty of tunes that fail to strike a chord within me - one way or the other. And there are those that make my stomach churn every time I hear them on the radio. I can't change the channel fast enough. I suspect my wife finds it annoying that I feel the need to go from station to station until I eventually stop - because I am now content with what I am hearing. God knows I need something soothing while I drive, although that's another story.
For me, there have been countless songs over the years that have made me want to hear them over and over again. Just some of those on the brink of perfection -
- Anything from The Byrds (my favorite band of all time)
- Van Morrison - Coney Island or Rave on John Donne (it's the poet in me)
- Nora Jones - Come Away With Me (joy in my heart)
- Dire Straits/Mark Knopfler - Local Hero/Wild thing (heavenly guitar)
- Bon Iver - Beth/Rest (check out Justin Vernon's music and lyrics)
- Pink Floyd - Comfortably Numb (amazing guitar again)
- Sarah McLachlan - Angel or Answer (beautiful)
- K.D. Lang - Simple (or anything from 49th Parallel)
- Bruce Hornsby - Fortunate Son/Comfortably Numb Medley (genius)
- AC/DC - Thunderstruck (no one plays the guitar as simply and as voraciously as Angus Young)
- John Rutter - Requiem - The Lord is My Shepherd (heavenly)
- Handel - Messiah - Hallelujah Chorus (spiritual and timeless)
Just a few that bring joy to my hear....and a window of what is on my iPod.
But have you ever heard a song and the moment the music starts you become completely lost in it? Nothing else around you matters. Your mind seems to become one with the song - captivated by every note, every word, every nuance and pattern to the music, wondering how it is possible for it to even exist, to have been created? I know others are not hearing the song like I am. There are 3 pieces of music (so far) that have struck me in this way:
#1 - It was the summer of 1964. I was with my family just returning from a vacation in our Ford station wagon. In fact, we were pulling into our driveway and I was listening to WLS on my transistor radio (remember those?) and they are playing for the first time a song by a British group called The Kinks - "You Really Got Me". With that penetrating 5 note riff, I was hooked. I couldn't get my parents to open the door fast enough so I could turn on our radio and hear it at a much higher decibel level! And I still love hearing it 50 years later. How is that possible? That was the first time.
#2 - It was 1991. I was with my wife and our 2 children vacationing in Stratford, Ontario, Canada to see Shakespearean theater. We were in a small shop in downtown Stratford looking at novelty items and such when I hear this music playing that I just couldn't let go of - ethereal, haunting, like nothing I had heard before. And the nightingale voice - strong, piercing, enchanting. It was the first time I had experienced goosebump-inducing music. The song was "The Old Ways" from the album The Visit by Loreena McKennitt, a Canadian born singer/songwriter. I also listened to Bonny Portmore and Cymbeline before my family wisked me away. The beauty of her music was and is rooted in my soul. I listen to her musical voyages whenever I need a good dose of serenity.
#3 - It was Christmas time in 2012 and we were invited to a holiday gathering by our financial advisor. The entertainment was provided by a local chorus and their program included, along with various popular lay and sacred holiday music, a piece of music unknown to me - "Sure On This Shining Night". It is based on a 1934 poem by James Agee. The rapturous, flowing music was composed by Morten Lauridsen. I was, and am, forever changed somehow by hearing its' harmonies and lyrics. My favorite version of this piece is by The University of Utah Singers. Please check it out and listen. I don't know why, but it brings me to tears every time I hear it. It is the most beautiful song I have ever experienced.
Sure On This Shining Night
Sure on this shining night
Of star made shadows round,
Kindness must watch for me
This side the ground.
The Late year lies down the north.
All is healed, all is health.
High summer holds the earth.
Hearts are whole.
Sure on this shining night I weep for wonder wand'ring far
alone
Of shadows on the stars.
Why do I feel what I feel about any particular song - be it indifference, misery or pleasure?
I honestly don't have an answer. And perhaps there is no answer. It just is....music....
You Really Got Me!
I was astonished - flabbergasted - speechless. I could not wrap my mind around this phenomena. I guess it makes sense that, like everything else, not everyone will like a particular idea or thing. But I simply cannot identify with anyone that doesn't care for music at all. Ironically, I had been considering writing about my love of music and this article helped provide an additional perspective.
Now I am not a professional musician. I am not proficient with any instrument although I love to play around with both the piano and hammered dulcimer. I enjoy singing in the church choir but as a member of the chorus only and not as a soloist. I have not studied music on an academic level. But I have a real appreciation and heart felt passion for music.
What is it about music that evokes a positive, pleasurable response? More interesting to me - why do people respond on different levels to the marriage of carefully crafted tones and lyrics - even to the same song?
Many of us respond instantly to a certain song because of the beat or rhythm. It's catchy. We all like patterns. Some like the melody. Some may find the lyrics resonate with them. Still others like a song because it, or more likely the artist, is fashionable or trendy (#1 on iTunes). Then there is the song that brings back memories of high school, college or a certain boy or girl. We all have those.
I am well aware that all music is not beautiful, meaningful nor makes one feel good. There are plenty of tunes that fail to strike a chord within me - one way or the other. And there are those that make my stomach churn every time I hear them on the radio. I can't change the channel fast enough. I suspect my wife finds it annoying that I feel the need to go from station to station until I eventually stop - because I am now content with what I am hearing. God knows I need something soothing while I drive, although that's another story.
For me, there have been countless songs over the years that have made me want to hear them over and over again. Just some of those on the brink of perfection -
- Anything from The Byrds (my favorite band of all time)
- Van Morrison - Coney Island or Rave on John Donne (it's the poet in me)
- Nora Jones - Come Away With Me (joy in my heart)
- Dire Straits/Mark Knopfler - Local Hero/Wild thing (heavenly guitar)
- Bon Iver - Beth/Rest (check out Justin Vernon's music and lyrics)
- Pink Floyd - Comfortably Numb (amazing guitar again)
- Sarah McLachlan - Angel or Answer (beautiful)
- K.D. Lang - Simple (or anything from 49th Parallel)
- Bruce Hornsby - Fortunate Son/Comfortably Numb Medley (genius)
- AC/DC - Thunderstruck (no one plays the guitar as simply and as voraciously as Angus Young)
- John Rutter - Requiem - The Lord is My Shepherd (heavenly)
- Handel - Messiah - Hallelujah Chorus (spiritual and timeless)
Just a few that bring joy to my hear....and a window of what is on my iPod.
But have you ever heard a song and the moment the music starts you become completely lost in it? Nothing else around you matters. Your mind seems to become one with the song - captivated by every note, every word, every nuance and pattern to the music, wondering how it is possible for it to even exist, to have been created? I know others are not hearing the song like I am. There are 3 pieces of music (so far) that have struck me in this way:
#1 - It was the summer of 1964. I was with my family just returning from a vacation in our Ford station wagon. In fact, we were pulling into our driveway and I was listening to WLS on my transistor radio (remember those?) and they are playing for the first time a song by a British group called The Kinks - "You Really Got Me". With that penetrating 5 note riff, I was hooked. I couldn't get my parents to open the door fast enough so I could turn on our radio and hear it at a much higher decibel level! And I still love hearing it 50 years later. How is that possible? That was the first time.
#2 - It was 1991. I was with my wife and our 2 children vacationing in Stratford, Ontario, Canada to see Shakespearean theater. We were in a small shop in downtown Stratford looking at novelty items and such when I hear this music playing that I just couldn't let go of - ethereal, haunting, like nothing I had heard before. And the nightingale voice - strong, piercing, enchanting. It was the first time I had experienced goosebump-inducing music. The song was "The Old Ways" from the album The Visit by Loreena McKennitt, a Canadian born singer/songwriter. I also listened to Bonny Portmore and Cymbeline before my family wisked me away. The beauty of her music was and is rooted in my soul. I listen to her musical voyages whenever I need a good dose of serenity.
#3 - It was Christmas time in 2012 and we were invited to a holiday gathering by our financial advisor. The entertainment was provided by a local chorus and their program included, along with various popular lay and sacred holiday music, a piece of music unknown to me - "Sure On This Shining Night". It is based on a 1934 poem by James Agee. The rapturous, flowing music was composed by Morten Lauridsen. I was, and am, forever changed somehow by hearing its' harmonies and lyrics. My favorite version of this piece is by The University of Utah Singers. Please check it out and listen. I don't know why, but it brings me to tears every time I hear it. It is the most beautiful song I have ever experienced.
Sure On This Shining Night
Sure on this shining night
Of star made shadows round,
Kindness must watch for me
This side the ground.
The Late year lies down the north.
All is healed, all is health.
High summer holds the earth.
Hearts are whole.
Sure on this shining night I weep for wonder wand'ring far
alone
Of shadows on the stars.
Why do I feel what I feel about any particular song - be it indifference, misery or pleasure?
I honestly don't have an answer. And perhaps there is no answer. It just is....music....
You Really Got Me!
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Faster Than A Speeding Bullet....
When I first think of Superman my memories go to the introduction of the original 1950's Adventures of Superman TV show:
- faster than a speeding bullet,
- more powerful than a locomotive,
- able to leap tall buildings with a single bound
He's an action figure, a hero, a DOER.
I would not describe Superman as a WATCHER.
This "Superman", our Spiderman, however, is 3 1/2 years old. Still, it seems that sometimes (often) he is moving faster than a speeding bullet as he travels through our house, our back yard, the mall and the park. While maybe not as strong as a locomotive, he is an avid train lover. And, yes, I swear he has jumped over the couch, 2 chairs, a toy wagon and the piano without breathing heavy as he yells "run, Papa, run". There is a boundless energy in this one! And like Clark Kent he has his cautious, methodical side as well. Although he doesn't wear glasses and I have never seen him enter a phone booth. But then again, he would have no idea what a phone booth is. I only have vague recollections of that bygone convenience.
In any case, he has been enrolled in a couple of classes through the local park district and it's been an adventure to see how he establishes his own rules for "going to class". His other grandparents took him to the first class which was held in a large room with a stage up front. They took a series of pictures which show Spiderman's way of assimilating into the group. The first picture shows Spiderman sitting cross-legged facing the stage a good 30 feet from the rest of the group. Because he is the only one in the frame, it looks like he is taking a personal meditation class! The second picture, 15 minutes later, shows him only 10 feet from the rest of the group - still separated but he's gaining on them. He must be feeling a little more comfortable after gauging what's been going on between the instructor and the other kids. But he's not just ready to jump in with both feet. The last picture shows him fully engaged with the group. He eventually told his grandma to leave the room. He came, he saw, he conquered! Well something like that.
The most recent series of classes took place at a small local zoo. It involved the zoo educator reading a story to the group, doing a craft project about an animal and then actually getting to see an animal up close and personal. The first day I said, "It's time for class", to which he replied with his arms folded and his eyes focused on the ground, "No... no...no want to go to class!" I countered this response by saying, "ok, we won't go to class, we will just watch". He thought for a second and said "ok". Chalk one up for Papa! He listened to the story at the back of the room and quickly did the craft (I think it was more Papa's craft). He was very excited to see what animal they had in the box. First there was the blue tongued skink. He was fascinated with it's name and was the only one wanting to actually touch it. The following weeks he got to see a Walking Stick, a horse (whch was not in a box!) and his favorite - a snake - a black rat snake to be specific. He loved "petting" it. He asked the lady if he was going to a snake every week. No surprisingly, his grandma was nowhere to be found!
As he ran towards the lady with the snake, I could swear I saw him unbuttoning his jacket revealing a large "S" on his shirt underneath. But maybe that was just my imagination. It does also stand for Spiderman.
- faster than a speeding bullet,
- more powerful than a locomotive,
- able to leap tall buildings with a single bound
He's an action figure, a hero, a DOER.
I would not describe Superman as a WATCHER.
This "Superman", our Spiderman, however, is 3 1/2 years old. Still, it seems that sometimes (often) he is moving faster than a speeding bullet as he travels through our house, our back yard, the mall and the park. While maybe not as strong as a locomotive, he is an avid train lover. And, yes, I swear he has jumped over the couch, 2 chairs, a toy wagon and the piano without breathing heavy as he yells "run, Papa, run". There is a boundless energy in this one! And like Clark Kent he has his cautious, methodical side as well. Although he doesn't wear glasses and I have never seen him enter a phone booth. But then again, he would have no idea what a phone booth is. I only have vague recollections of that bygone convenience.
In any case, he has been enrolled in a couple of classes through the local park district and it's been an adventure to see how he establishes his own rules for "going to class". His other grandparents took him to the first class which was held in a large room with a stage up front. They took a series of pictures which show Spiderman's way of assimilating into the group. The first picture shows Spiderman sitting cross-legged facing the stage a good 30 feet from the rest of the group. Because he is the only one in the frame, it looks like he is taking a personal meditation class! The second picture, 15 minutes later, shows him only 10 feet from the rest of the group - still separated but he's gaining on them. He must be feeling a little more comfortable after gauging what's been going on between the instructor and the other kids. But he's not just ready to jump in with both feet. The last picture shows him fully engaged with the group. He eventually told his grandma to leave the room. He came, he saw, he conquered! Well something like that.
The most recent series of classes took place at a small local zoo. It involved the zoo educator reading a story to the group, doing a craft project about an animal and then actually getting to see an animal up close and personal. The first day I said, "It's time for class", to which he replied with his arms folded and his eyes focused on the ground, "No... no...no want to go to class!" I countered this response by saying, "ok, we won't go to class, we will just watch". He thought for a second and said "ok". Chalk one up for Papa! He listened to the story at the back of the room and quickly did the craft (I think it was more Papa's craft). He was very excited to see what animal they had in the box. First there was the blue tongued skink. He was fascinated with it's name and was the only one wanting to actually touch it. The following weeks he got to see a Walking Stick, a horse (whch was not in a box!) and his favorite - a snake - a black rat snake to be specific. He loved "petting" it. He asked the lady if he was going to a snake every week. No surprisingly, his grandma was nowhere to be found!
As he ran towards the lady with the snake, I could swear I saw him unbuttoning his jacket revealing a large "S" on his shirt underneath. But maybe that was just my imagination. It does also stand for Spiderman.
Friday, June 13, 2014
Remembering Dad
If ever a kind soul walked this earth, it was Dad. He has been gone for over 6 years but I still think of him nearly every day. He preferred a kind word rather than railing on about the negative things that inevitably arise in one's life. And whenever we were together, his smile would always brush away any ill feelings one might have. I have this picture of him standing, smiling, relaxed in his naval uniform, hat in hand, on the day I was born. He was far away but had his buddies take his picture that day. The note on the back simply states "RBH (his initials) in Naples, Italy October 7, 1947 - day that message came to U.S.S. Leyte, CV-22, of Lee's birth."
He became a teacher. And he taught well. He cared about his students - not just when they were juniors in high school but throughout their lives. Over the years, we heard many stories from students about how much they enjoyed being in his class. At reunions they made a point of saying hello and thanking him for his guidance and the passion he put into the art of teaching. Interestingly enough many of those were the same students that he failed and yet somehow managed to instill the importance of learning along with their self worth regardless of class grade. A true gift.
He also taught my brothers and me as well. I would not consider him a strict disciplinarian but when needed he got his message across in a way that showed us what was "right" and that he had faith in us to do better the next time. He was a very intelligent and thoughtful man. Yes, he was an academic but he conveyed what he learned both in books and in life in a way we could all understand and appreciate. That's probably why his students thought so highly of him as well. He was an amazing communicator, both verbally and in writing. He (like my Mother, still) was a letter writer par excellence. He would never write an email (even if he had a computer - which he didn't). That would simply be too impersonal. We all loved receiving notes, gift cards or letters from Dad. Maybe that is where I received my love of poetry. One of his many gifts to me. His writing was so lyrical and carefully crafted. Our daughter attributes much of her love of writing (in addition to her gift) to her Grandpa H. He had a wonderful sense of humor - Laurel and Hardy and Sid Caesar were his favorites. We treasure any of his writings we still have, especially the serendipitous ones. For instance:
We used to check on my parents house when they were out of town and he would set up the kitchen table to make any would-be burglar think twice about entering the house - cereal bowls, plates, coffee cups and ash tray with fake cigarette (he used to smoke) all displayed with precision. When we went over their one time to check on the house he had also added the following note in his distinctive handwriting - "He finished his cereal, had a cup of coffee, smoked a cigarette and then he disappeared..." What?
On another occasion, they stopped by to take our dog for a walk while we were gone. The following note was on our counter - "I took Molly out for a walk. She dug a hole on the edge of the street and buried 2 snausages; but we filled it in with crushed rock. See ya later."
We couldn't wait for the next gem.
He was a gifted storyteller as well. We all remember the escapades of Dr. Hugo Von Eckner, Mr. Murdock (who lived under the bed), Erma Pilcher and the fiery Faruzzio Mazzioli. You had to be there.
He was all a child, young man and adult could want for a father - kind, caring, intelligent, humerous, devoted and loving. It is all I can do to try and be as good a father as he was to me. Still working on that.
Thank you Dad.
He became a teacher. And he taught well. He cared about his students - not just when they were juniors in high school but throughout their lives. Over the years, we heard many stories from students about how much they enjoyed being in his class. At reunions they made a point of saying hello and thanking him for his guidance and the passion he put into the art of teaching. Interestingly enough many of those were the same students that he failed and yet somehow managed to instill the importance of learning along with their self worth regardless of class grade. A true gift.
He also taught my brothers and me as well. I would not consider him a strict disciplinarian but when needed he got his message across in a way that showed us what was "right" and that he had faith in us to do better the next time. He was a very intelligent and thoughtful man. Yes, he was an academic but he conveyed what he learned both in books and in life in a way we could all understand and appreciate. That's probably why his students thought so highly of him as well. He was an amazing communicator, both verbally and in writing. He (like my Mother, still) was a letter writer par excellence. He would never write an email (even if he had a computer - which he didn't). That would simply be too impersonal. We all loved receiving notes, gift cards or letters from Dad. Maybe that is where I received my love of poetry. One of his many gifts to me. His writing was so lyrical and carefully crafted. Our daughter attributes much of her love of writing (in addition to her gift) to her Grandpa H. He had a wonderful sense of humor - Laurel and Hardy and Sid Caesar were his favorites. We treasure any of his writings we still have, especially the serendipitous ones. For instance:
We used to check on my parents house when they were out of town and he would set up the kitchen table to make any would-be burglar think twice about entering the house - cereal bowls, plates, coffee cups and ash tray with fake cigarette (he used to smoke) all displayed with precision. When we went over their one time to check on the house he had also added the following note in his distinctive handwriting - "He finished his cereal, had a cup of coffee, smoked a cigarette and then he disappeared..." What?
On another occasion, they stopped by to take our dog for a walk while we were gone. The following note was on our counter - "I took Molly out for a walk. She dug a hole on the edge of the street and buried 2 snausages; but we filled it in with crushed rock. See ya later."
We couldn't wait for the next gem.
He was a gifted storyteller as well. We all remember the escapades of Dr. Hugo Von Eckner, Mr. Murdock (who lived under the bed), Erma Pilcher and the fiery Faruzzio Mazzioli. You had to be there.
He was all a child, young man and adult could want for a father - kind, caring, intelligent, humerous, devoted and loving. It is all I can do to try and be as good a father as he was to me. Still working on that.
Thank you Dad.
Sunday, May 25, 2014
And now for something completely different....
As said by John Cleese of Monty Python fame.
I still think I am 35 (right!) but as I get older, I find my thoughts turning more to life's journey...my journey. And, in turn, wondering about the journeys under taken by my amazing grandchildren - Love Monster, Smirker, Spiderman and Batman (LM, S, S and B) - as their journeys are just beginning.
Coincidentally, I was reading about the so-called Human Condition. While there are many definitions or descriptions of this philosophy, the common theme seems to be simply that it encompasses all of the experiences of being human - the on-going way we react to or cope with events in our lives. It describes the range of emotions we experience associated with our existence. Humans, more than any other creature, are aware of the passage of time, remember the past, imagine a future and have a deep seeded awareness of our mortality. We alone ask ourselves questions like: What is the meaning of existence? What was I born? Why am I here? Where will we go when we die? We struggle with the answers to these questions and the simple fact that we conceive of them, defines the human condition.
While the universally accepted ideals are to be cooperative, loving and selfless, humans are also competitive, aggressive and selfish. We are capable of immense love and sensitivity and yet we are also capable of greed, hatred, brutality and war. In many ways, that is our burden.
One article I read (Godel's Proof and the Human Condition) struck me in particular. He states:
"...we are literally born in ignorance and raised in a world of people likewise born and raised - which means then, that there is a very nearly overwhelming amount of misinformation, opinion, predisposition, etc, regarding what we 'know' about ourselves and how we 'should' deal with each other - or there wouldn't be the mass of troubles there is in the world today."
While this initially sounds very troubling (What's the use?), Godel goes on to say that individually the more we learn about ourselves and our fellow human beings, the more we can learn from our mistakes and our assumptions and strive for those universally accepted ideals.
Much for all to ponder, but particularly for those of us now known as Papa, Napa, Grandad, Pops, Da or whatever moniker the grandchildren have bestowed upon us. This goes for all the Nanas and Namas, etc. as well.
And then I think of LM, S, S and B and I am revitalized. There is such innocence (born of ignorance) in these young souls. Everything they encounter is new. (As a part-time care giver, I must remind myself of this daily - yes, the patience thing again!) They are learning what life is all about every moment of every day. At first everything seems to be black and white but slowly they see the many shades of gray muddling things up. It's in these shades of gray where they begin to understand life.
Each will experience joy, sadness, anxiety, wanting, caring, hope and love just like all of us "older folks". Only LM, S, S and B (and many other's their age) handle these emotions with less baggage. They look at new situations or new faces for the first time and react with such wonder and curiosity that those of us paying attention are truly blessed. Yes, there is a naivete as well which can be daunting for parents and grandparents to get through but it is these moments that help us look at the human condition with a more positive perspective.
Jose Ortega y Gassett, a Spanish philosopher, said "Living is a constant process of deciding what we are going to do."
That's our journey.
My journey?
I am still working on that with a little help from LM, S, S and B. Quite a ride. Stay tuned.
I still think I am 35 (right!) but as I get older, I find my thoughts turning more to life's journey...my journey. And, in turn, wondering about the journeys under taken by my amazing grandchildren - Love Monster, Smirker, Spiderman and Batman (LM, S, S and B) - as their journeys are just beginning.
Coincidentally, I was reading about the so-called Human Condition. While there are many definitions or descriptions of this philosophy, the common theme seems to be simply that it encompasses all of the experiences of being human - the on-going way we react to or cope with events in our lives. It describes the range of emotions we experience associated with our existence. Humans, more than any other creature, are aware of the passage of time, remember the past, imagine a future and have a deep seeded awareness of our mortality. We alone ask ourselves questions like: What is the meaning of existence? What was I born? Why am I here? Where will we go when we die? We struggle with the answers to these questions and the simple fact that we conceive of them, defines the human condition.
While the universally accepted ideals are to be cooperative, loving and selfless, humans are also competitive, aggressive and selfish. We are capable of immense love and sensitivity and yet we are also capable of greed, hatred, brutality and war. In many ways, that is our burden.
One article I read (Godel's Proof and the Human Condition) struck me in particular. He states:
"...we are literally born in ignorance and raised in a world of people likewise born and raised - which means then, that there is a very nearly overwhelming amount of misinformation, opinion, predisposition, etc, regarding what we 'know' about ourselves and how we 'should' deal with each other - or there wouldn't be the mass of troubles there is in the world today."
While this initially sounds very troubling (What's the use?), Godel goes on to say that individually the more we learn about ourselves and our fellow human beings, the more we can learn from our mistakes and our assumptions and strive for those universally accepted ideals.
Much for all to ponder, but particularly for those of us now known as Papa, Napa, Grandad, Pops, Da or whatever moniker the grandchildren have bestowed upon us. This goes for all the Nanas and Namas, etc. as well.
And then I think of LM, S, S and B and I am revitalized. There is such innocence (born of ignorance) in these young souls. Everything they encounter is new. (As a part-time care giver, I must remind myself of this daily - yes, the patience thing again!) They are learning what life is all about every moment of every day. At first everything seems to be black and white but slowly they see the many shades of gray muddling things up. It's in these shades of gray where they begin to understand life.
Each will experience joy, sadness, anxiety, wanting, caring, hope and love just like all of us "older folks". Only LM, S, S and B (and many other's their age) handle these emotions with less baggage. They look at new situations or new faces for the first time and react with such wonder and curiosity that those of us paying attention are truly blessed. Yes, there is a naivete as well which can be daunting for parents and grandparents to get through but it is these moments that help us look at the human condition with a more positive perspective.
Jose Ortega y Gassett, a Spanish philosopher, said "Living is a constant process of deciding what we are going to do."
That's our journey.
My journey?
I am still working on that with a little help from LM, S, S and B. Quite a ride. Stay tuned.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Spiderman Learns to Share
Spiderman (3 years and 4 months now) and I venture out a couple of mornings a week to various places about town where he can let off some steam, release his pent up energy and interact with other kids his age. Granted, being with Papa and Nana for an entire day is just too much fun but he does need to get out among his peers.
One of his favorite spots is the local library. Not because he wants to read a book, although we usually pick up a couple of train books for later. Nor is it because he wants to attend storybook time with all the other kids and their Moms, Grandmas, Nannies and a few Dads and Grandpas. That is just way too structured for him - at least at this point. Instead, he makes a bee line for the small tunnel leading into the children’s book area, crab walks through on all fours and follows the railroad tracks in the carpet to the train tables in the back of the room. There is one large and one small table cut down to his size so he can kneel while he plays. Wooden railroad tracks have been glued to the table tops along with bridges, tunnels, hills and watering stations for the trains. The engines and freight cars are all small enough for Spiderman to place in his hand. His first task? - to accumulate as many train cars as he can carry. Keep in mind Spiderman is not the only one at the train tables. There are usually anywhere from 5-10 other kids also focused on this magical world of trains. And all want the same thing. This is just the way it is and the way it will always be. And all parents or grandparents (myself included) say the same thing. I can actually hear myself forming the words -
”Spiderman, please SHARE”, which is usually followed by “Johnny SHARE please”, Amber, you have to learn to SHARE”! You can almost see the gears in their heads turning, puzzled, listening to all the adults. One of these days they are all going to shout in unison:
“Will you just let us deal with this ourselves? We got this. Just go back to drinking your coffee and checking your Iphone.” (Followed by high five’s all around!)
I am sure you have heard a million times “that’s mine” coming from your children and grandchildren. “That” is may very well be his or hers and their friend who is over for a “play date” wants that amazing toy too.
But quite often it is not his or hers. It “belongs” to someone else. And in environments like the local library, it belongs to no one. It is a common property. Now just think how a child of 3 processes the concept that every toy in the room belongs to no one AND everyone! I try, I really do try to put myself in his shoes, but there is no way I can fully appreciate what is going on in his mind. If I was him, I would probably go after anything within arm’s reach too.
This is one area where I have noticed a change in Spiderman over the past 12 months. Last year the word of the day (hour, week, month, etc.) was “Mine”. He liked it, it was his. Very natural.
One of the other places he likes to go is called The Yard. It is a large indoor play space that has 4 soccer fields with artificial turf, a large play room with inflatable bounce houses and rooms for them to jump, as well as lots of balls, slides, tricycles, etc. You would think that with all these things to do and toys to play with, everyone could have their “own” toy and therefore, there would be no disagreements. Ha! We are back to the “I like that - I want it - I must have it - I will take it - thanks - bye” approach to the playground. (There is really no “bye”, they just run the other direction with the toy.) Sometimes I think it might be a “king of the hill” kind of thing going on. But I think it’s probably just a basic child behavior. I like that - I want it. As simple as that.
But recently I observed Spiderman doing something that showed a changing attitude. Spiderman likes to play with a small plastic grocery cart. He races around this big room from one end to the other without any other particular goal in mind. It’s a speed thing. And it’s his cart. He would see it as soon as we entered the large room and as I was taking his coat and shoes off he would point to “my cart” and dash to claim his prize.
One day a boy younger than Spiderman was crying because he had been with playing with THE CART and decided to play with something else. When Spiderman picked up the cart and started to do his thing, the other boy burst into uncontrollable tears. To my amazement, Spiderman stopped in his tracks, wheeled the cart over to the boy and with a picture of concern on his face, offered the cart to the boy. I could have stood up and shouted to all the parents in the room - did you just see what my grandson just did? The two boys proceeded to play together with the cart for next 20 minutes, laughing and smiling like two long lost friends. (This is another phenomenon that I find so endearing with kids this age.)
I was, and am, so proud of Spiderman learning the delight in giving and sharing. I think his parents probably had a little something to do with that.
A lesson for us all.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Grambo is Coming!
You may think I am biased and you would be right. I am very proud of our daughter, Beth, for many things but particularly for her dedication and love of writing, especially children's stories. She is the person, in fact, that I look to whenever I have questions or guidance when it comes to writing.
Grambo is Beth's second children's book (thank you Be There Bedtime Stories) and I see the growth in her style and story. I love her idea of challenging stereotypes by having the main character, a grandma, as a spy. I know a number of "grandmas" that are young at heart and spirit and who actually could be spies now that I think about it! Intriguing to consider.
Having a secret code as part of the experience is a great idea - perfect for a children's "spy" story. It gets the young reader even more involved in trying to solve the puzzle. It's a story that a child will enjoy reading over and over. And the illustrations by Betsy Hamilton add so much for the reader to vividly see and embody the characters and the story line.
I think your child, grandchild, niece, nephew or friend of the family will enjoy Grambo.
Grambo will be available on Amazon starting March 26th! Help get Grambo on the Amazon bestseller list on launch day!
Grambo is Beth's second children's book (thank you Be There Bedtime Stories) and I see the growth in her style and story. I love her idea of challenging stereotypes by having the main character, a grandma, as a spy. I know a number of "grandmas" that are young at heart and spirit and who actually could be spies now that I think about it! Intriguing to consider.
Having a secret code as part of the experience is a great idea - perfect for a children's "spy" story. It gets the young reader even more involved in trying to solve the puzzle. It's a story that a child will enjoy reading over and over. And the illustrations by Betsy Hamilton add so much for the reader to vividly see and embody the characters and the story line.
I think your child, grandchild, niece, nephew or friend of the family will enjoy Grambo.
Grambo will be available on Amazon starting March 26th! Help get Grambo on the Amazon bestseller list on launch day!
Here are prizes when you buy on launch day March 26:
Buy four or more books: You get one more book free! Plus the prizes below.
Buy three books: You get an 8X10 Grambo illustration print autographed by the illustrator, plus the prizes below.
Buy two books: You get a gift certificate for one Be There Bedtime Stories online book, plus the prize below.
Buy one book: You get a discount! (It will already be shown on the amazon link.)
To receive your prize, email your amazon receipt to grambobook@gmail.com by April 15th with the address where you’d like your prize. You will receive it by June 1st 2014.
Thank you for supporting young, talented and dedicated writers.
Friday, March 14, 2014
FIBIGO
When I go shopping I like to have something specific in mind for the hunt and my approach is simple - Find it, Buy It and Get Out (FIBIGO).
The idea of meandering about a store or a mall window shopping waiting for that elusive moment of discovering the perfect gift or item for myself is shear madness. Anyone else with me on this one? For those that find this activity relaxing, fun or even inherent to life itself, god bless you and keep on trucking. After all it's great for the economy. And if in someway it nurtures your soul....who can argue with that.
But for me....it's FIBIGO!
There is one place where this approach will not fly. Ever been to IKEA?
The name IKEA is derived from the founder's initials and hometown in Sweden. But it could also be - I Know Everything Already.
Whenever I make a trip to IKEA I know two things for certain:
1.) I have to order their swedish meatballs with lingonberry sauce, which I don't really believe is horsemeat - well, at least not in the U.S.), and
2.) FIBIGO is toast.
I do give them some credit for providing maps throughout the store to make sure customers know where you are (red dot indicating "you are here") and the location of the departments to explore. Explore is the operative word. Every time I make this trek I feel like I should be wearing Asolo TPS 520 GV hiking boots, a Grivel Freney 50 Backpack (made from heavy duty ECOFABRIC complete with butterfly frame system and a hip belt that has zippered pockets for accessories and wraps aroudn your hips with ergonomically shaped air foam) and a supply of energy bars and water. There is no way of telling how long I will be "in there".
I would be willing to bet a complete MALM desk set that "Mr. IKEA" spent a lot of time in a casino or two in Las Vegas or Monaco. Casinos and IKEA use a similar design principle - absolutely no straight paths across the structural space. And those "short cut" signs - I think I finally figured out that they really just take you back to the office furniture that you passed 20 minutes ago.
Red Dot - "YOU ARE HERE"
No, actually I think I am in the twilight zone.
I knew I should have left some bread crumbs to find my way back out.
I MAZE
IKEA
What was it I was looking for again?
The idea of meandering about a store or a mall window shopping waiting for that elusive moment of discovering the perfect gift or item for myself is shear madness. Anyone else with me on this one? For those that find this activity relaxing, fun or even inherent to life itself, god bless you and keep on trucking. After all it's great for the economy. And if in someway it nurtures your soul....who can argue with that.
But for me....it's FIBIGO!
There is one place where this approach will not fly. Ever been to IKEA?
The name IKEA is derived from the founder's initials and hometown in Sweden. But it could also be - I Know Everything Already.
Whenever I make a trip to IKEA I know two things for certain:
1.) I have to order their swedish meatballs with lingonberry sauce, which I don't really believe is horsemeat - well, at least not in the U.S.), and
2.) FIBIGO is toast.
I do give them some credit for providing maps throughout the store to make sure customers know where you are (red dot indicating "you are here") and the location of the departments to explore. Explore is the operative word. Every time I make this trek I feel like I should be wearing Asolo TPS 520 GV hiking boots, a Grivel Freney 50 Backpack (made from heavy duty ECOFABRIC complete with butterfly frame system and a hip belt that has zippered pockets for accessories and wraps aroudn your hips with ergonomically shaped air foam) and a supply of energy bars and water. There is no way of telling how long I will be "in there".
I would be willing to bet a complete MALM desk set that "Mr. IKEA" spent a lot of time in a casino or two in Las Vegas or Monaco. Casinos and IKEA use a similar design principle - absolutely no straight paths across the structural space. And those "short cut" signs - I think I finally figured out that they really just take you back to the office furniture that you passed 20 minutes ago.
Red Dot - "YOU ARE HERE"
No, actually I think I am in the twilight zone.
I knew I should have left some bread crumbs to find my way back out.
I MAZE
I SURRENDER
I GIVE UP
I 'M LOST
IKEA
What was it I was looking for again?
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Smirker The Brave
Adults can learn a thing or two from children if we just take the time to pay attention. Smirker, now 4, has been through a lot over the past year. Just 9 months ago she woke up in the middle of the night with a pain on her right side, pointing repeatedly to the same spot. In most cases, we all would give her a hug and try getting her back in bed putting it off as too much rainbow sherbet before bed or perhaps not wanting to go to school the next day because her BFF wouldn't share the My Little Pony Pinkie Pie Train Set. She will be fine.
But she was persistent and insisted that her mom take her to the doctor...the doctor! You should know, she does not like doctors. That got her parents attention. Several hours later she had an emergency appendectomy. Luckily it had not burst, which truly amazed her experienced surgeon. So much so that he had his interns feel the "red hot chili pepper" before surgery. She came through like a trooper. We dropped everything and flew out the next day to do what we could do to help during the recovery. A week later, we took her back to the surgeon to have the heart shaped bandage on her navel removed. The doctor told her she could help peel it off. Apparently, his approach was a tad too slow for Smirker. She proceeded to rip it off with a big smile. Voila! Can I go home now? We were all astonished at her courage. Not just in taking off the bandage but through the entire healing process. She met fear and pain with such resolve and bravery. I am sure it helped to have lots of loving, caring people around but this petite 3 year old taught me and the rest of us how strong we can be.
Turn the clock ahead 8 months (30 days ago) and it was time for another test for this little one. This was planned, however. She had always had large tonsils and was an epic snorer. She must have some of Napa's genes - sorry, Smirker. So we made a trip to the surgi-center for the procedure. Everything went very well, despite the fire alarm going off during her surgery! Thankfully it was a false alarm. Recovery was slow and although I have not experienced getting my tonsils removed, I knew it was painful and uncomfortable. She did not feel like eating much. Ice cream and popsicles - the "staples" during recovery - were just too cold. She would eat mac n cheese at the drop of a hat but it might as well have been a bowl of glue for all she cared. She wanted to eat but just couldn't. And yet she never complained.
Then something extraordinary took place. I had picked up lunch for all of us. Smirker as usual didn't feel like eating anything but wanted to sit on my lap while I ate my salad. She immediately took my fork and began to feed me, forkful after forkful, until it was all gone. Well...gone may not be the appropriate word. More like - no longer in the bowl. Some actually made it into my mouth (it was very good, I think) but I was virtually surrounded by lettuce, chicken, asian noodles and cheese. She was so proud of herself. And I was proud of her. She didn't think about what she couldn't do but rather making sure that I was taken care of. It was like she was vicariously getting her nourishment by helping me. Maybe, just maybe, she understood what all of us were doing to help her get better and she was returning the favor. I am going with that. In any case, it was wonderful seeing a smile on her face as she forgot about her sore throat for just a few minutes.
It's been a month since her surgery and she is back to her cute, sharp and sassy self. She taught me a lot about her...and about how all of us should face adversity. Thank you, Smirker.
Oh...and no more snoring for Smirker. Love Monster, her sister, is so happy. And her mother is as well, although she did feel compelled to place a mirror under Smirker's mouth at first, just to be sure - but then, you know how Mom's are.
As for Napa and his snoring - I have no plans to get my tonsils out at my age. Sorry, hon!
But she was persistent and insisted that her mom take her to the doctor...the doctor! You should know, she does not like doctors. That got her parents attention. Several hours later she had an emergency appendectomy. Luckily it had not burst, which truly amazed her experienced surgeon. So much so that he had his interns feel the "red hot chili pepper" before surgery. She came through like a trooper. We dropped everything and flew out the next day to do what we could do to help during the recovery. A week later, we took her back to the surgeon to have the heart shaped bandage on her navel removed. The doctor told her she could help peel it off. Apparently, his approach was a tad too slow for Smirker. She proceeded to rip it off with a big smile. Voila! Can I go home now? We were all astonished at her courage. Not just in taking off the bandage but through the entire healing process. She met fear and pain with such resolve and bravery. I am sure it helped to have lots of loving, caring people around but this petite 3 year old taught me and the rest of us how strong we can be.
Turn the clock ahead 8 months (30 days ago) and it was time for another test for this little one. This was planned, however. She had always had large tonsils and was an epic snorer. She must have some of Napa's genes - sorry, Smirker. So we made a trip to the surgi-center for the procedure. Everything went very well, despite the fire alarm going off during her surgery! Thankfully it was a false alarm. Recovery was slow and although I have not experienced getting my tonsils removed, I knew it was painful and uncomfortable. She did not feel like eating much. Ice cream and popsicles - the "staples" during recovery - were just too cold. She would eat mac n cheese at the drop of a hat but it might as well have been a bowl of glue for all she cared. She wanted to eat but just couldn't. And yet she never complained.
Then something extraordinary took place. I had picked up lunch for all of us. Smirker as usual didn't feel like eating anything but wanted to sit on my lap while I ate my salad. She immediately took my fork and began to feed me, forkful after forkful, until it was all gone. Well...gone may not be the appropriate word. More like - no longer in the bowl. Some actually made it into my mouth (it was very good, I think) but I was virtually surrounded by lettuce, chicken, asian noodles and cheese. She was so proud of herself. And I was proud of her. She didn't think about what she couldn't do but rather making sure that I was taken care of. It was like she was vicariously getting her nourishment by helping me. Maybe, just maybe, she understood what all of us were doing to help her get better and she was returning the favor. I am going with that. In any case, it was wonderful seeing a smile on her face as she forgot about her sore throat for just a few minutes.
It's been a month since her surgery and she is back to her cute, sharp and sassy self. She taught me a lot about her...and about how all of us should face adversity. Thank you, Smirker.
Oh...and no more snoring for Smirker. Love Monster, her sister, is so happy. And her mother is as well, although she did feel compelled to place a mirror under Smirker's mouth at first, just to be sure - but then, you know how Mom's are.
As for Napa and his snoring - I have no plans to get my tonsils out at my age. Sorry, hon!
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Jose can you see....
Batman, our 10 month old grandson, loves music. His mother always sings to him and it seems to soothe his soul. Lullabies to get him to sleep, of course. And he can't help but like the broadway show tunes she is so fond of singing. I can just hear the first words out of his mouth (after Mama and Dada) from Thoroughly Modern Millie:
Jimmy, oh Jimmy, silly boy
Gee, what a real swell guy
Jimmy, oh Jimmy, oh what joy
He makes my troubles fly
|
Of course, he uses his real name as his mother does in place of Jimmy. I can see the delight in his parents eyes now. He’s going to be a star!
But I can also picture him belting out the first part of the National Anthem. When he was maybe 5-6 months old, for some reason I would start to sing The Star Spangled Banner for Batman when he was unhappy.
“Oh, say can you see...”
He would stop crying immediately, looking intently at my mouth, and burst into a big grin when I got to “see”. Maybe it was because I was naturally smiling when I said the word.
“By the dawn’s early light...” and he “lights” up again.
I finish the entire anthem and his anxiety seems to have disappeared. Now I am not always 100% sure I got all the lyrics correct but then who can. I see how performers at big events mess up the words. It’s just not that easy, especially if you let your mind start to wonder. But he doesn’t seem to care. He is happy. If he starts to cry again in a few minutes I would simply start again and he would smile and settle down until I finished. I don’t think I could keep this up more than a few times but it does tide him over until his bottle or food is ready. And I want to keep it special.
Do you remember as a kid hearing the National Anthem? Maybe it’s a guy thing (no, I am SURE it is a guy thing), but we used to sing it as - “Jose, can you see...” Was it because that’s what we thought was being sung before really understanding the lyrics? Or was it just young guys trying to be funny?! Perhaps a combination of both.
It reminded me of our daughter when she was very young. One Christmas she got a card that had a big mouse on the front, smiling. It’s name was Squeaky. All we had to do to get her to smile was to hold the card up and she would break out into a huge grin. Squeaky saved the day many times when it came to family pictures. She now has it on her Christmas tree. Never quite sure what it was for our son as he always seemed to be smiling - complete with closed eyes and dimples.
It’s funny what triggers a small child to smile. With Spiderman it’s trains and a trip to the bakery for his favorite cookie with green sprinkles. For both Love Monster and Smirker it is rainbow ice cream, ANYTHING related to My Little Ponies and candy.
What is it that makes your child or grandchild smile every time?
No matter what thing or song or place makes them smile, they save their biggest smiles when their parents, grandparents, friends and teachers greet them with kindness and smiles. That’s what it is all about!
Keep on smiling!
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