Tuesday, December 16, 2014

It's Not A Goodbye, It's A See Ya Later

At 6 am this morning, on a restless night without sleep, I've done everything possible including emptying the trash in the bathroom as a diversion...having an extremely difficult time finding the strength to walk across and 10 feet down the hall to wake these children up to make the longest drive to Nashville. 

This is what it feels like to be a parent, torn between letting them sleep longer and keeping them innocent by protecting these two kids who do not yet know the seriousness of their Grampa's health and the pain of losing a grandparent or exposing them to heartache. 

I hardly slept last night. I have an extremely heavy heart. Jeff​​, Wendy​​, Pandora, her boyfriend Cliff, Maverick, Phaedra, and I will gather together as a family this afternoon to say goodbye to Mr. Steve​​, their doting and affectionate Dad/Grampa. 

Thank you's and appreciation to the outpouring of affection and the emotional support of friends and extended family, especially Diane​​, Blaine​​, and The Bowens. Prayers, thoughts, and vibes to the Janovetzes for the emotional heartbreak they will endure within the next few minutes, hours, days, weeks, and years.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Bah, Humbug!

After arriving home from work this evening to grass waving from the driveway cracks in the bitter, cold, December wind, the front walk covered in an forgotten pile of autumn leaves, the shirked weeds and thriving crab grass in the flower beds never having been pulled this spring, and an avoided pile of mail sitting on the coffee table for longer than a month I made a decision. This year, I'm going to treat Christmas as the kids treat chores. 

They are going to have to remind me every day damn that Christmas is coming. Oh, I will already know it is here and I have obligations to complete Christmas activities. Advent calendars, baking cookies, decorating the Christmas tree, purchasing gifts, wrapping presents: I am not interested in doing it! 

I will see Christmas looming in front of me, directly in front of me, crossing the days off of the calendar. But, I will walk on past it and pretend it is not here. If it is brought up, I will pretend to think about it. I will pout about it. I will fight about it. I will avoid it at all costs. I will scream "It's already been done!" when clearly it has not. 

I am sure I will see lists of Christmas wishes. I will even volunteer to buy some of those items on the wish lists. But, in the end I will not do it. If I am forced, after repeated reminders and eventual threats, to participate I will do it begrudgingly, half-assed, hurriedly, and frantically as I hear the clatter of hooves on the roof and see that Jolly Fat Man sliding down the chimney. So, if they ask for something specific, only after I have saved every world on the Xbox, returned every text, gone to every party, and posted all of my selfies, possibly by St. Patrick's Day, give or take, I will eventually get around to it.  Then, I might purchase and gift the cheap, dollar store version. In return I will expect full accolades and praise. 

If children celebrated Christmas like they complete chores I would save a ton of money and even more time. It is no wonder I am not in the spirit. If anyone is interested in lifting my saccharine cheer, you can earn the gifts I've already purchased. 




Bah, humbug! You can keep your Christmas!