Where did the last year go?

I know.  I'm a day late with this post.  Seems like I'm always late for everything these days.  My precious Isabella turned one yesterday and I sit here, a little sad that the year went by so fast as well as happy and proud that we survived the first year and can move on to the next part of life in our little family.  It is such a crazy thing to feel such conflicting emotions all at the same time.  Since Isabella is our last baby (unless some miraculous act of God occurs), I am grieving never having an infant again - those newborn sounds and smells and cuddles - but then I am relieved that it won't be long before the bottles, the diapers, the teething will be a thing of the past.

The Hubs and I were talking about the last year, wondering how in the world it could have gone by so fast, but as we discussed all that transpired, it made a little more sense.  Where did the last year go?  Well..........

• A little more than a week before Isabella was born, the Hubs developed a kidney stone that became lodged and darn near caused his one kidney (he was only born with one) to fail.  He was in the hospital for several days and ended up with surgery to remove the stone.
• At this same time, my maternal grandfather, Poppi, who lives here in SC, had open-heart surgery, and then the arduous recovery process that came along with it.
• Just three days after the Hubs' stint was removed, Isabella arrived and we were on that joyous, yet exhausting, adventure of the 4th trimester - learning our new baby and adjusting to being a family of four, which wasn't real easy for Madelynn, or the rest of us at times.
• When Isabella was  two-ish weeks old, my mom's side of the family came in for a family reunion for the 4th of July.  It was chaos at its best, but we had fun.
• That Fall Madelynn decided to cheer lead for the local youth organization, which led to practices and games 2 to 3 nights a week.
• Also that Fall, in September, the Hubs' youngest sister got married.  Madelynn was the flower girl and I was a bridesmaid....or matron......whatever I might've been called lol!
• That October, the Hubs' great grandmother passed away.  Granny Cooper was an amazing woman, strong and loving and a powerful figure in the family.  Isabella was named after her.
• Of course then you have all of the Fall and Winter excitement and holidays: Halloween, Fall festivals, Clemson football (GO TIGERS!!!!), Thanksgiving, and Christmas.
• Around mid-December was when Isabella began getting sick and proceeded to spend the next several months with one illness or another.  In February, she was hospitalized in the PICU for a few days, which was one of the scariest times of my life.
• Madelynn's 5th birthday was in early March and of course we had a fabulous Barbie extravaganza!
• As Spring began to arrive, my paternal grandfather unexpectedly passed away in mid/late March.  He had only begun to fight the cancer that had taken over much of his body.  So, the Hubs and I packed up the girls and hopped a plane to KC for a few days to be with the family and participate in the funeral.  Honestly, I still have days that I can't believe he is gone.  I half expect him to answer the phone when I call my Grammy.
• As the weather got warmer, we had more and more playdates with our new "mommy and me" group, which has kept us busy and running in all directions.  Madelynn loves the time with other kids and I love the time with other mommies.
• In April we began attending NewSpring Church which has kept my heart and mind full and busy.
• In May we took our family "vacation" to Myrtle Beach - boy was that fun (insert eye roll and dripping sarcasm)!  It was totally our fault - we chose a terrible week to go (college week and bike week) and we let Madelynn sort of drive us instead of insisting on periods of rest and such.  It was chaos and we had two very tired and very irritable girls on our hands by the end of the week.

And so here we are, back in June, with a boatload of events under our belts.  When I think about how fast the last year went and reflect on all of these things, it is no small wonder that it flew right by!  I am thankful for each and every joyful moment and life lesson, and I am reminded to stop and smell the roses a little bit, as we all know that that can be a challenge for me.

Happy 1st Birthday my precious Isabella!  Mommy loves you to the moon and back a bazillion times!

To Grandpa

My grandpa, Joe Clyburn, passed away last Tuesday, March 20, 2012.  It came as a bit of a shock.  He had only very recently been diagnosed with lung cancer that had metastasized to his spine and to his brain (and we really aren’t sure where else as there was still testing left to be done).  While I knew in my heart that he did not have much time, I expected him to at least live through the summer, which would have given me the chance to see him alive one more time.  But in true Grandpa Joe form, he passed on in his own way, and, truthfully, it was probably better this way.  He did not have to go through chemo.  He did not die the painful drowning death that people with lung cancer sometimes experience.  He did not prolong his suffering, and I can remember him alive as the big, loud, exuberant man that he was, instead of the small, frail, sickly man that he became. 

I decided to blog about this, not just to honor my grandpa, but for myself.  Since his death I have been going over and through memories in my head.  I will be honest and admit that not all of my memories of my grandpa are positive.  You see, my grandpa was an alcoholic, likely a product of his time in Korea, aka “The Forgotten War”, but he was an alcoholic all the same.  I, however, feel no need to rehash anything related to that now.  It does not matter anymore and it does me, nor him, no good to detail that stuff.  His drinking never hurt me in any way.  I prefer to focus on the good stuff, and really, there was a lot of good stuff.

From the time I was about five years old (plus a brief period when I was a baby), I lived in a different state, or really I should say different states, from my grandparents.  That did not keep me from having a close relationship with them, however.  My Grammy and I always frequently corresponded by letters and we always made the trek back to Kansas City in the summertime to visit.  My grandparents often came to visit us, wherever we might be at the time, typically around Christmastime (especially when we lived in Florida - who wouldn’t take a Florida Christmas over a Missouri Christmas? lol).  My grandpa Joe would tirelessly watch all of the “shows”, cheers, songs, or other performances I would subject him to on his visits, and he would always give a thunderous standing ovation at the end.  Often he would come for his visit armed with a song (usually some old twangy country song at which I would giggle or roll my eyes)  he wanted me to sing for him and he would say, in his boisterous way, that I had “the most beautiful voice on a little girl” he had ever heard.  At some point, grandpa Joe, my brother Matt, and I would sit in the floor with all of my brother’s matchbox cars and we would race and 4-wheel over mountainsides (aka our legs).  “Chigabuggachigabuggachigabugga!” He was also known to play baby dolls or stuffed animals with my sister Cara and/or me, and we always made time to play catch or wiffleball out in the yard.  My grandpa loved sports. 

I remember grandpa Joe as always such a giving person.  I swear he could hear the ice cream truck from miles away and he would grab my hand so we could run together to the end of the drive where he would hook me up with whatever frozen treats (and yes that is plural) I desired.  There was never a trip to KC that I did not return home loaded with gifts.  I specifically remember one trip where I rode home in the back of our minivan with a gigantic stuffed raccoon dressed as Robin Hood and an enormous, never-ending bag of animal crackers.  Grandpa had a knack for finding stuff like that.  Even as an adult, I would continue to receive gifts from him during visits and by mail.  When I became “of age” and wanted to try my luck on the slots at the KC casinos (a novelty to me since gambling of any sort is illegal in SC), grandpa always pushed a fifty into my hand (and into the Hub’s hand after I was married) once we got through the doors and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.  Of course I blew it every time (plus a little of my own money) but we always had a blast doing it.

My grandpa was a Shriner and upon his retirement from Southern Bell after thirty plus years of service (where I hear he never missed a day of work I might add), he began volunteering in transport, taking children from area KC hospitals to the Shriner’s hospital in St. Louis.  Anyone who knows the traffic and frustration of St. Louis knows that this is no small feat!  When he could no longer provide transport services, he continued to volunteer in various capacities with the Shriners.  He really loved the work that they did for the kids.

There is one more thing about grandpa Joe that I would be remiss if I did not note, even though he would tell me not to make a “big stink” over it.  I mentioned before that he served our country in the war in Korea.  I just learned, upon his death, that he was a highly decorated hero.  Grandpa would, understandably, never talk about Korea; not to his wife, his kids, his parents; not to anyone, but it was known that he was grazed by a bullet on the side of the head, leaving him perpetually gray in that little spot from a young age.  When going through his personal items in a little lock box/safe that he kept in his man cave, grandpa’s discharge papers were uncovered.  These papers listed several medals and awards, including the Purple Heart and the Bronze Star.  It is unknown at this time as to how, exactly, he received these awards, but nonetheless, they were his and he was a hero.  I will never forget the beauty and nobility of the military at his funeral.  I'm not sure there was a dry eye present.

So, with that, I will close this up and bid him farewell.  He is probably up in heaven cussing me for going on and on about him this way.  Rest in Peace grandpa.  I promise to try hard not to “sweat the small shit in life” because, after all, “the cream always rises to the top”.