Grandmas

Well, My sister & her baby, and me & the kids I nanny for decided to catch TRAX (the closest thing to a commuter train Utah will ever have) downtown and hang out for a while yesterday. We just stayed around Temple square; went to the Church History Museum and then toured the Conference Center (It's amazing how big it is, and how little I really knew about it until yesterday!) It was pretty fun until the point where we had two kids sleeping and another honestly falling asleep on his feet, two pretty big purses/diaper bags, and only one small umbrella stroller. =)

Well, while we were on the train back home, I saw two really young kids (like 3-5) walk by, followed a little later by a girl who was probably 9 or 10. Me and my sister looked at each other after they passed, wondering where their parents were (they did NOT look like the type you would normally see unaccompanied on a train) A few stops down the line, I realized that there was an old lady slowly but surely making her way, a few rows at a time, back to where the kids were. She would take a few steps with her cane, and hanging on for dear life to the poles and seats around her until the train started moving, then she would sit down. When she got to us, we talked to her for a second while the train was moving. It turns out that the kids we saw were her grand kids, and the little boy (probably 3) absolutely loves trains, so his Grandma decided she would take them for a train ride. She was soft-spoken, and did not seem bothered one bit about the hassle their outing had become.

When I heard that, I immediately thought to myself "I'm going to call Grandma and tell her about this lady. That reminds me of something she would do." after a split second pause, my mind caught up with the times, and I remembered that Grandma is no longer just a phone call away. It was a heart-falling-to-the-bottom-of-your-chest feeling. The thought that my grandma is gone is still one I struggle with. It just seems like she is on vacation, and we're expecting her back any day now.

I found myself inexplicably drawn to that lady on the train after that. I wanted to follow her and watch her more. I am not sure what I thought would happen, or what I wanted to accomplish by following her (likely, she'd call the police about the stalker she picked up on the train). What I do know, though, is that I am happy for those kids on the train. I am happy that they have such a loving grandma who would make sacrifices like that for their sake and happiness, and I know that they love her as dearly as I love my Grandma. That thought makes me glad for them. Every little child deserves the love and adoration of a Grandma like that.

I am also grateful to the lady on the train for reminding me of one of the most simple, amicable traits my Grandma has; selflessness. It is something I always admired in her, and something I want to possess also. I think it will take a little bit of work to get to the point Grandma was at, but there can be no harm done by filling my life with service and love. In the end, it will bring me closer to my Father in Heaven, and in turn, to my Grandma.

Just knock twice.

So, I'm a nanny. I've been doing it for almost a year and a half, and it's pretty nice. Sometimes, it gets old, but I enjoy it for the most part, and it's nice to get paid to watch kids sometimes. Pro Bono is just not my angle =)

Well, this past month or so has been pretty draining, to say the least. First, there was Grandma being so sick. It seemed like any day I could get off work and find a ride up there, I was going back and forth to the Hospital (even though I know I was not there as much as I would have liked, I tried, right? ...Well, I hope it's alright, at least.)

Then, the very day I came back from Grandma's funeral, I found out that my boss' sister (who has been very sick with cancer the entire time I've worked for them) was getting only worse, and they'd be leaving to see her that afternoon, leaving me with the kids for a few days. The next two weeks have pretty much been just a revolving door at our house. The bosses would come home, get the kids, go back. Come home, stay half a day, and leave the kids. Come home for a day, leave. Just over and over, it seems. I'm OK with it; it does not bother me, but three or four of the times they have left have been at like 3 a.m.

At that time in the morning, I am usually in a very deep sleep. Anyone who has ever slept with me knows that I am a very hard person to wake up =) Here's how it usually goes; just before my bosses are about to leave, the wife (Runner Woman) will come to my room and knock really quietly, and pause for a few minutes. If I do not answer by then, Runner Woman will knock again, just a bit more loudly. The third time will be even more insistent, but still far too nice to convince me to leave the comfort of slumber. Usually, by the time I am conscious enough to know that she's really knocking, and it's for me, I have absolutely no idea how long she's been knocking, and I just end up feeling all sorts of guilty that they had to wait for me to get up. Needless to say, I think it would be a lot easier for both of us if she just knocked twice.

When I am roused out of deep sleep, I'm in a semi-conscious, foggy state. Usually, I try half-heartedly to decide whether the knock I heard was in my dream or real life; which determines whether I wake myself up enough to mumble "Yeah?", or slide back into sleep. This is the part where the two knocks come into play. The first knock is to wake me out of the deep sleep, and the second knock is to let me know that it's real, and not a dream. If you do them close enough, my body has less time to recognize the noise as a nuisance and tune it out. Life these past weeks could have been so much easier if she would just knock twice. It's a win-win situation for everyone. They do not have to wait for the slumbering beast to wake up, and I don't have to feel guilty for making them wait.

If ever in doubt, save us all some time and JUST KNOCK TWICE. < /RANT>

My Dæmon =)

Well, I've decided that I absolutely love the series His Dark Materials, by Phillip Pullman (more commonly known now for the first book, THE GOLDEN COMPASS, which is coming out in the movies on December 7, 2007). Anywho, for all of you who are looking for a book(s) to read, I highly suggest this series (The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife, and the Amber Spyglass) I really like it, it's a pretty interesting take on fantasy, with different worlds, creatures, and a little bit of science mixed in there.

On the official movie website, I took a survey to find out what my Dæmon was, and here it is! Give me your input!

One more day.

Well, today is Tuesday. The funeral was yesterday, and it was an incredibly draining day. I knew it would be a hard day, but I was surprised at how hard it really was. I usually prefer to not show emotion in public, especially grief, because it is so hard to pull back the tides of my grief once they hit the shore. Needless to say, I about lost it when they closed the casket for the last time on my beautiful, sweet Grandma. After that, I pretty much closed the door on those emotions, and I did marvelously well through the rest of the funeral. The only problem is that now I am in a state of denial. It's hard to even admit it; like saying it out loud will vanish the make-believe world I live in, where Grandma's not really dead, just on an unexplained vacation. My little cousin, I'll call her Bright-eyes, is absolutely convinced that Grandma is coming back to earth in a few weeks when the second coming comes. It must be so comforting for Bright-eyes to think this; it's what my irrational mind is begging me to believe.

I was supposed to work today, go to mutual tonight, and pretty much return to my normal life, but some unexplained emotion urges me to stay here. To be close to Grandpa, and this house. I am not sure what the pull is; maybe it's because Grandpa and Grandma were always such a package deal. I've rarely ever seen one without the other... I think some part of my subconscious is hoping that, by staying close to Grandpa, I might be able to stay close to Grandma also. I'm not sure that I will ever know, but for one more night, I am staying here, close to my Grandpa, close to this house, and close to this town that Grandma loved so. One day, I'll have to go back to normal life and pretend to be healed and recuperated, but not today. I am blessed with one more day.

Might as well keep going!

I really like small towns. They tend to be quiet, slow places where you can really hear yourself think. Every time I come to a small town, it seems so peaceful and restful, like the rest of the world can go away but this town will stay as it has always been, untouched.

Most times, I like the quiet; it gives you a chance to think and make decisions with a clear mind. This time, however, I am wishing for the rush of my normal life, I am wishing for anything else to distract me and keep my mind busy. The charm has left this place. This town is tainted. Like other small towns, it remains in the past; the only difference is that this town's past is a sad one, surrounded by reminders of my Grandma.

One Day, I know I will yearn for any reminder of my Grandma, but for today, all I want is to escape this place and all its sad reminders.

Thoughts on the Day...

Well... I am really not sure what to say right now. This does not seem like the perfect time to start a blog, but at the same time, all I want to do right now is write. Something about writing is so therapeutic for me. It's a vent for my emotions, my thoughts, and who knows what else. I am not sure how often I'm going to be posting, but here is my inaugural post! :)

Yesterday, at around noon, my Grandma passed away. It's unfathomable to me that she is really gone.

The night before she passed, after leaving the hospital for the last time, I sat down and wrote a list of all the things I thought I would miss about my grandma. They went from the trivial (Christmas decorations) to the deeply personal (our hours-long chats on the phone when I needed advice, or just a kind ear). The list was huge, it took up pages and pages of my journal. By the time I was finished, I felt emotionally drained and exhausted, but it felt good to make the list. The following morning, my worst fears were confirmed when I got the call telling me about Grandma's passing.

When I got to grandma's house, I felt like I was emotionally prepared to comfort Grandpa, clean, mourn, whatever this house could throw at me. That all went out the window when I walked in and saw a pair of red, white, and blue shoes of hers. When I saw them, my heart dropped. I realized that I was prepared for a generic, completely clear house, not the home my Grandma walked out of days ago. It seems like every where I turn, I see something, either small or large, that screams GRANDMA! From her piano to her special table to the magazines scattered around the desk, my grandma's imprint is on everything in sight.

It was after this realization that I realized something else; My grandma left an imprint on me, also. Her example of womanly virtue, faith, and motherhood will stay with me throughout my life. Her patience, kindness and beauty are forever embedded in my memories. It is for this that I am most grateful. I know that for now, I will mourn her death, but I take comfort in the knowledge that Familes are forever. My Grandma is not simply gone. She is in a truly better place, surrounded by countless loved ones and family members. There's only so much mourning you can do with that kind of knowledge.

Rest Well, Grandma!

Ofa Lahi 'Atu!