I have heard time and time again that everyone deals with the loss of a family member differently.
A week ago my grandmother died.
I am not going to make this more dramatic than it needs to be. I was not close to my grandmother. We have always had a strange relationship. Most of my childhood, she lived in Montana and we really only saw her every other year. I hope I don’t sound like a pouty child, but I never felt like she cared about my brother, sister and I. She seemed to be focused on the grandchildren in Montana, and we were extras. It didn’t help that she never really seemed to ask or pay attention to the things we were interested in, she seemed to make my mom and my dad a little crazy every time we visited, and sometimes she even forgot that we were her grandchildren, too.
My memories of her are pretty jaded. I remember visiting her house in Montana and she had a wall full of school pictures of her grandchildren, and my brother, sister and I were not on it. Or she sent my sister a birthday card with a check inside written out to me. Over the years, our Christmas gifts included pillow cases, afghans, and cast off “free gifts” you get when you sign up for a bank account or credit card. Not that gifts are everything, but there is something about the thought that counts. I never felt like she was thinking about us.
This impression of her solidified when my grandfather died when I was a freshmen in college. I didn’t feel like I really knew him either. But I knew my dad was sad, and that was hard to see. The worst was at my grandfather’s funeral, where she kept loudly declaring, “What am I going to do with all of his stuff? Who’s going to get rid of all of his stuff?” We are all sad and crying, and she’s worried about herself. I wasn’t the only one giving her dirty looks that day.
Then she decided to move to Colorado. I do feel like she started trying. but I still felt that it was more about “her” than “us.” And again, she made my dad and mother crazy. Everytime she called, there was a collective groan.
I made a special effort to include her in my wedding, she was my only surviving grandparent and I was feeling sentimental. She spent a lot of time asking, “Where is the reception? If she’s getting married here, were are we going to eat?” And announcing to anyone who would listen that she was moving back to Montana. Which she did, shortly after my wedding.
In the last few years, our relationship has been over the mail. She sent us cards, which had the right name 80% of the time. And we sent her pictures of us and Chloe. Every card she sent had the guilt…”I hope I get to meet Chloe before I die.”
Sadly, she never did.
I think my grandmother’s attitude toward life limited her. And I know that her attitude toward me made me feel SO GUILTY when I moved to New Jersey. I was always jealous of those kids who had a great relationship with their grandparents, and I never had that. I wanted my kids to have that relationship with their grandparents. And I feel, through the willingness of the grandparents on both sides to travel, Chloe does have that, even though we live so far away. But, I have to admit that I make an extra added effort to ensure that Chloe knows her grandparents because of the way I always felt about my grandmother.
I found out my grandmother died over a post on Facebook. That’s only because I missed the text message from my dad. It feels a bit cold, but it is extremely symbolic of our relationship. John and I immediately started looking in to flight options, and quickly descovered that attending my grandmother’s funeral was going to cost us around $2,500. I wanted to be there to support my dad, whatever our feelings, this was his mommy. But, it gets to the point where you have to step back from the emotions and embrace the logistics.
So, instead of attending the funeral, we went on our previously planned trip to Boston. Chloe was able to attend her preschool orientation. And I sit here, alone, worrying about my Daddy, and hoping that he is not having a rough time. The tears I shed today are for him. And that, in itself, makes me a bit sad.
Sometimes, things just hit a little too close to home. One of my relatives posted a status message on facebook with:
AMBER ALERT IN OSHWA NY-3 YEAR OLD GIRL TAKEN BY A MAN DRIVING SILVER TRUCK Ontario PLATE # 728 381. If all of you reading my status would copy and paste into your status, it could potentially save a little girls life.
Like any mother, I reacted emotionally, and posted it as my own status. If, (and I have such a hard time even thinking about this) Chloe were missing, I wouldn’t care who, what or how the message got out. I would want everyone looking for her. Then, one of my friends explained that this was a hoax, and posted this link:
snopes.com
if you go to “what’s new” you’ll find that this is all a hoax.
I was pissed. I am sure that somewhere, there are some idiotic and inconsiderate teenagers that think this if funny. I hate that anyone would take advantage of a program whose primary function is to find lost children. This is not funny. It is not clever. It is criminal. I don’t think that they will ever actually get this message. Whoever started this created a viral message, and those of us that understand that a child’s safety is at stake, reacted. And now, when there is a child that is missing, and someone is trying to find them, people with think twice about sending out the message. Or believing the one they see.
There are some things you just don’t mess with. The safety of children is one of them. Whomever sent this out probably thought nothing of it. “I know, lets see how many people we can make take up the party line.” There are consequences for sending out false messages. You may not see them, you may not feel them, but they are there.
Sadly, the next time I see a message like that, I won’t act instinctively. I will check for its validity before I pass it on. Anybody who knows anything about missing children knows that every second counts. And the fact that I will take a few extra seconds to decide whether or not I can trust the message…well, who knows.
Our friend Laurie’s family has a beach house in Seaside Park, and she was kind enough to let us take advantage of her and come down to the Beach (THANKS LAURIE!!!) We had a blast, up until the point when the wind took over and then it was a little painful. We had to lug 5 screaming children, a beach buggy and a wagon full of beach crap up a hill while everyone was being sand blasted. That part was less fun. Luckily, Laurie’s beach house was equipped with an awesome pirate ship pool and a slip and slide! Fun was had by all, and Chloe finally conquered her fear of the ocean.
“I am going to surf in the water!”
(This is her dejected walk back up to camp after she decided that she was still to afraid to go in the water.)
Digging hole with Ryan and Conner.
Finally! Running in the surf.
Running with Jack, and running alone-proof it wasn’t a fluke, she will now play in the water. After these pictures, the waves picked up and I had to put the camera down and hold onto the child.
Slip and Slide. In the essence of full disclosure, this picture is totally staged, she would run down the slide, then lay down gently onto her stomach. I don’t blame her. I was watching the other kids throw themselves onto this thing with reckless abandon. It was TERRIFYING!
I stuck my head outside just long enough to record this:
This storm knocked out power out for four hours. Chloe had her first bath my candle light, and John and I hung out on the front porch (after the rain stopped, of course) drinking beer and watching a movie on my laptop. It was kind of fun!