Rage, rage against the dying of the light

My Grandmother, who I lived with for most of my life, died last week. Two weeks ago, at the age of 98, she had a heart attack, and chose to spend her last few days at home.

I've had the unfortunate opportunity to attend way too many funerals this past year. And yesterday's was the hardest. It was a beautiful service, and fun to see my bazillion cousins who I don't see enough; I guess I was hoping for a little bit of closure. But my emotions are still all over the place.

Funerals are weird, viewings are weird; I find the whole process of public memorializing strange. Not that I think it is a bad thing; somehow every society has to find a ritual to mark the transition from life to death. I think we need to - its part of what makes us human.

I guess it just feels a little stifling to me. Grief as I've experienced it is not easily contained into scheduled musical numbers and trite words of sympathy. And our society doesn't seem to know what to do with Grief if it doesn't sit quietly in the corner and weep. It seems one or two tears, rolling quietly down someone's cheeks is appropriate, and anything else is an "embarrassing display of emotion." We don't really have an outlet for Grief that storms and rages, Grief that throws things, Grief that decides it is better to feel nothing at all. But all of those feelings are just as common. And should be just as acceptable as watery smiles and reassurances that the loved one is in a better place.

 The things people say to each other on these occasions are very strange. I mean, you have to say something but everything other than "I'm so sorry" sounds patronizing to me. There is not anything someone can say that will MAKE me feel better (there is my ego poking through) mostly because all those "I'm sure she's having a happy reunion with Grandpa." aren't hitting at the core of my grief.

 I'm not worried about my Grandmother any more. Regardless of what you believe about the afterlife, there is nothing more I can do for her. That is not why I'm upset. I'm selfish. And I'm hurt and sad and angry because I want my Grandma and I can't go see her. And now, I will not be able to go see her. Ever again. And I'm pissed off, because she has been such a sure thing in my life, and I do not like loosing that stability. That unconditional love.

 Later I will write about all the things I learned from her, and all my happy memories. I may not even cry every time I tell my kids about her. But that is not in me now.

 So here is a Dylan Thomas poem, that is far more eloquent than I can be.

Do not go gentle into that good night, 

Old age should burn and rave at close of day; 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

Though wise men at their end know dark is right, 

Because their words had forked no lightning they 

Do not go gentle into that good night. 

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright 

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, 

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, 

Do not go gentle into that good night. 

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight 

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

And you, my father, there on the sad height, 

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. 

Do not go gentle into that good night. 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

By Dylan Thomas

Getting out

A couple of weeks ago I took the kids and we spent a few days at my parent's "cabin." I use the term cabin loosely. Really, it is an old house in a very small town. But it is my favorite way to camp. No internet, phone or television - but there is electricity and hot water. However, the hot water thing is a little.....unpredictable, as my oldest son traumatically found out this trip.

All my favorite people

Actually, it isn't that hard to predict.  A decrepit hot water heater, plus me, my kids, my sisters and their kids, all trying to wash the sand and sunscreen off after a day at the lake in chronological order means that only the babies actually have hot water. Everyone else gets lukewarm at best. And Child 1 wasn't happy about having to shower in the first place. I didn't really care if he stayed dirty either, but his skin reacts badly to sunscreen if it is left on for too long. So I forced him to shower. (and stop reading Harry Potter, because I love to see my children suffer.)

He can shower by himself now, and I told him he didn't even have to wash his hair - just soap his body, rinse and get out. I brought him his clean clothes and a towel and left him to it.

Ten minutes later I am back to check on him and find him standing in the shower as far away from the spray as possible, crying hysterically.

"What's wrong?" I shout.

"It's COLD!" He (literally) cries.

The hot water was completely gone, and the water really was icy. I turn off the water, wrap him in a towel and spend the next ten minutes trying to get him to calm down. I'm feeling a little sorry for him and a little exasperated. "If the water is cold GET OUT. You don't have to stay in a cold shower. Just GET OUT. You are in control of this!"

He hadn't had time to get all the soap off, which was why he felt he had to stay in, but couldn't bring himself to duck under the cold water again. "So wipe it off on a towel. If you don't like where you are - if you hate your situation CHANGE IT!"

I'm was hoping that he would see this as a life lesson, and will learn to take control of his own situation. And I was pretty surprised that he didn't realize that since HE turned the water on, HE could turn the water off.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized there are all kinds of situations in my own life that I hate. That I scream and throw a fit about, that are completely under my control. And it's hard. It's hard to see that you are in control, and that you have to take the initiative. And sometimes it seems easier to cry as loudly as possible until someone hears and comes to the rescue. But how much better life is when I can take a deep breath, and simply step out of a bad situation. No crying, no time wasted trying to recover, just two steps to the side and on with my life. I'm not good at it, but I'm still trying.

Real Life

for Ryan

Ways to tell that my children miss their cousins who moved very very very far away from us for a summer internship.

1. Every play phone call is to Ryan or Adrienne.
2. They ask to go to Ryan's and play at least once a week and still look confused when I tell them we can't.
3. Every time we get on the computer we have to watch videos of Ryan on their blog.
4. We had an imaginary Ryan come to play.
5. Junior wants to grow up to be Adrienne.
6. When told that he couldn't grow up to be Adrienne (because she is a girl) he wandered around for the rest of the day saying: "I will grow up like Randy!"

We will be very glad to see them when they come back in a several weeks. In the meantime, we made a video for Ryan.

A New Arrival

I got a new niece on Tuesday! I am super excited that my boys will (finally) have some cousins on my side of the family. Here are some pictures of my sister, her wonderful husband and their adorable baby.

I was a little worried about seeing the baby since part of the reason I was so excited when my sister told us the baby news was that we would have kids the same age. Now we won't, obviously. It made me pretty shakey, but it was good to hold a baby and just celebrate new life. Welcome to our family, Janie D!

Watersliding

Yesterday we went to Cherry Hill, a water park, with John's extended family. A couple of his aunts and cousins were in town, so we all got together. It is surprising to me how nerve-racking getting together with his family can be. They are all really nice, but I still get so intimidated. Even though we've been married for five years, I still don't feel like I know his side of the family very well. (Except for his mother, who I adore. The woman is a saint) Which is why we make an effort to go to these type of functions. They make me so nervous I'm practically sick, but how am I going to get over that if I don't get to know everyone better?

Grandma Stevens, Ian, Junior

So we took the boys and had a blast. I was worried about how my kids would react to all the noise and the crowds, but they loved it. Ian especially enjoyed the long tube water slides. We would race along the sidewalk and up three flights of stairs with our mat (making car noises, since we were pretending to be race cars). There were not too many people there, so we never had to wait long in line. Which was too bad, really, since I was pretty out of breath. I would hold him on my lap and try not to dunk him at the bottom. He was always ready to go again. As a rule, I don't interrupt my kids when they are involved in an activity just because I'm getting bored. I try to let them go for as long as anything holds their attention, but I finally had to beg for a reprieve. And it is a good thing I did - I can barely walk today as it is, my leg muscles are SO sore.

The highlight of my day was Ian looking over his shoulder at me as he ran up the stairs. "I like being with you, Mom. This is fun, and I like having fun with you."

Me too, Kidd-o.