This past year has been difficult for me and my family. I have faced many changes and challenges. Reflecting on the past year, I realized I neglected one very important person – myself.
There are things I have to do each day to keep our homestead running such as feeding the sheep. I have to work a job in order to have enough income to keep my home. I will also help my family, as grandchildren are golden.
But during the year, I have neglected taking care of myself. I pushed myself too hard at my jobs, trying to fix things and make things better for everyone else, I would take on the most unwanted jobs. Ignoring, or actually taking over the counter pain medications every four hours to dull the pain in my back as I worked eight hours. If the closing procedures were not completed by a certain hour, I would stay by myself until all things were done. My coworkers having to go due to their ride being there or just because they were not going to work the extra thirty minutes to an hour to get everything completed. My back would be stiff and hurting so bad I could barely get in my vehicle to drive home after work. Getting older brings with it the pain of over working. I can not work the same as a thirty year old person, my body is not young anymore.
The other area I did not care for myself, was helping my children and grandchildren. I did not take time to recharge and process my own emotions. Instead, once again I was there to assist and help with whatever needed to be done.
The most difficult time was when my daughter-in-law and four grandchildren came to stay with us to live without notice. It is easy to prepare rooms and make a space for people when you have days or even a week. I had hours, plus I was working a job. I made the room, by putting everything chaotic into other rooms. Dealing with a person who has mental illness takes time and energy. With the workload I was carrying at the time, it was really too much. And during this time, I cared for the children. I made lunch and dinner before leaving for work, then came home late at night to be faced with dirty dishes. I took care of everyone else, except for one of the most important people – myself.
This year, I have made a priority to care for myself. If I am not well, then I can not help others. I do have my home back. My daughter-in-law has her own home. She is regularly attending therapy. When she goes to therapy, I watch the children. Now, time to find a way to make an income once more. But I am going to be more selective in the job position I take on. I need to take care of myself.
It is good to help others. At times an event in a family requires “all hands on deck” to handle the situation. We all need an income. The caring for oneself is necessary in order to be the needed helper, to assist the family, and to perform a job. Do not feel guilty taking time to care for oneself. Enjoy the moment, cherish yourself for a short time.
While working in one of the grocery stores this past year, I was stopped by a custom wanting to locate an item she could not find. I had only been in this grocery store for a couple of weeks, and it was much larger than the one I came from. When asked if I could help her I responded, “Sure, I have recently transferred to this store and I am not sure I know exactly where it is. Let’s go on an adventure and find it together.” She chuckled and said, “Sure.” I knew the category the item was in, so I knew which aisle to look on. Soon we found her item. As the customer was thanking me for my assistance and fun, the store manager walked up. The manager asked if everything was ok, and the customer responded with a smile, “Yes, we just finished an adventure.” Manager gave us a funny look. The customer went on the tell how I had assisted in finding the item she was looking for and the fun we had in locating the item. The manager was not sure of the response, but was glad the customer was happy.
There was nothing extra ordinary about this journey of looking for a can of food on the shelf, other than the perspective. A simple word changed looking for a common item to an adventure that was fun.
When we are younger we dream of different adventures. Going on a search for lost treasure. Visiting the seven wonders of the world or another country. A trip to space or climbing a tall mountain. Parachuting or bungie jumping. The list can be endless. But when we start living our lives, we are hampered by time at work, family responsibilities, and sometimes just living life. Those old adventures become a bucket list.
One of my favorite places to visit for an adventure is the local nurseries. I love plants and flowers. I do not go there to purchase, but see what wonderous blooms are now available for our climate. Spring is always the best time to see and learn of new plants at the nursery.
Visiting other places and countries was a dream I had when younger, but my finances do not allow for trips of that nature. But there is a way I can still see those places, most obvious is through the internet. My favorite way of visiting those places is via the local libraries. With so many resources available through electronic devices, even our phones, libraries are not thought of much. But they hold a world of information in books. Big picture books of places to see and things to learn. Perhaps a new author to read the works of, or learning how to do a new hobby. Resources can be found in a library. In our area, libraries are the places to go to learn the history of the area. Not just the history of events, but of the families who settled the area. Where they came from, what they did and the accomplishments of them and their offspring can be searched through the library genealogy sections.
Adventures start with us stepping out of our comfortable routines and exploring something new. There are times, my husband and I just drive a different longer path back home from the store, just to see new things, mostly new homes, but all the same a different view.
Take a moment to ponder the possibilities of a new adventure in 2025. What would you like to learn? Do you know of all the parks close to your home? What local shop or museum have you not seen? Is there a new food truck you have not tasted the cuisine of? Have you taken a moment to see the stars or watch the birds.
A new year has arrived, what adventure could be waiting for you to discover?
Today, while cleaning out cabinets, I found Bonnie Jo’s rope. Sadness hit me straight away. We played with that rope since she was a puppy. She was easy on her toy. In her later years, she did not want to play very often, but I kept the rope in the cabinet with the dog brushes.
With grief and depression, you can feel you are at the bottom of a range of huge mountains, and the only way out is to climb a mountain. Speaking from experience, mountains are hard to climb, both geological mountains and grief and depression. The first thing a person needs is tools to assist in the climbing of the mountain. Geological mountains may require a good set of climbing boots, a climbing stick, and the more challenging mountains, hooks, ropes and other climbing equipment. Mountains of grief are no different. The first thing a person needs to start climbing the mountain, is to realize they are experiencing grief and/or depression. You can not climb a mountain, until you see and know the mountain is there.
When I lived in Colorado, I spent a lot of time in the area mountains, riding horseback and hiking up and down the terrain, enjoying the beauty around me. I would see a mountain, and wonder what the view from the other side looked like or I knew what was on the other side and wanted to get there. I saw the mountain, then I made a decision to climb the mountain. To move through grief and/or depression, a decision has to be made in order to take that first step.
Any mountain or place you wish to see, the journey begins with the first step. Sometimes that first step is hard to take, as you look up the mountain the journey seems long and doughty, there are so many steps that have to be taken to get to the top. Once the first step is taken, the climb is one step at a time. You can not rush climbing the mountain, as it is always one step at a time, even when climbing Mount Everest.
Sometimes along our journey, we need some assistance, we can get lost in the trees along our path to the top. Or, the terrain is steep and difficult to negotiate with the aide of another person. At these time, we need a guide. I have had guides, people who are familiar with the terrain and trails I needed to travel to reach my destination, and on a few occasions I was the guide. There is no shame in having a guide assist you in the journey to the top. Climbing Mount Everest requires a very experienced guide, to show the trail, but to also assist with the actual climbing of the mountain.
The past few months, I and other family members have had a guide to assist us with negotiating the journey through the trauma and grief of this past year. There is no shame in having a person to listen to your feelings, someone who will not judge you for being angry, sad, or even happy when most would say you should be sad. To climb a mountain begins with the decision to see a better view, and the first step.
Do not wait to take the step, to stay and let feelings of anger and depression build to the point you want to destroy yourself, and all those around you. My son-in-law did not want to accept change. Being in the house, we noticed he had loaded a gun, and unloaded it many times, bullets were scarred by being put into and taken out of the magazine. When the mountain became so large from choices he had made, he took a final step and destroyed himself. Sure, he does not have to deal with the trauma and emotions, or the legal ramifications of his decision, those living have to deal. My daughter had spoke to and encouraged him to get help, but those who are depressed also have to want to be helped. Why did he not get help, we do not know.
In settling the estate and legal matters concerning his death, which were a separate mountain on its own. My daughter says she moved that mountain a grain of sand at a time. She handled and dealt with each task, one at a time, with prayer. Today, the majority of the legal mountain is behind her, only a grain or two of sand left to deal with.
And together we are helping and encouraging each other to continue to climb the emotional mountains in our lives due to the tragedy. With help from professionals, support from each other, and our Creator, we will one day reach the top and see the view beyond April 26, 2024.
At the close of each year, I reflect on the past year and look forward to the coming year. How would I sum up the year 2024? Simply as Death. 2024 has been the year of Death and Change. I have never wanted a year to end so quickly, since September I have been wanting the year to be different, to put this year behind us and move to a better time.
Death – a hard, dark word, evokes many negative feelings. Negative feelings of anger, bewilderment, sadness, depression, anxiety, fear, loss and even hate are part of the definition of death in my dictionary today.
The beginning of 2024 looked promising, a year of positive change. I was working as a meat cutter in training, with hopes of finally being a full fledged meat cutter. We were working on the barn, to create a room in order to sell all natural lamb meat farm to table. The sheep were doing well. Things appeared to be good. Then a date arrived that would be branded into our lives and our being like a hot brand placed on a calf’s hip to mark the hide for life – April 26.
The day started as each working day, me getting ready to go to work in the meat market, my husband doing chores with a trip planned to see our daughter to assist with some legal matters concerning her decision to divorce her husband. We were going to assist in paying her attorney. On the way to work, I receive a vision.
The visions I receive are not pleasant. I am on an ocean beach, my granddaughter beside me. A sunny day, I feel the warm sun, the sand between my toes as we walk into the warm, yet cool water. My daughter loves the ocean. In the vision, my granddaughter and I were placing her in the ocean and saying goodbye.
Well, this mother starts praying. I do not know about other mothers, but I was busy praying for protection, for legions and legions of angels to surround my daughter and grandchildren. I even went so far as to demand Michael the Archangel to be by my daughter’s side. Even today I am not sure if demanding something of God is wise, but I would still demand Michael the Archangel to protect and keep my daughter and her family safe on that day. I prayed as I continued to work, and a few hours while working. Then there comes the time in pray when you have to let go, I made my petition, it was time to trust my faith and put her and my grandchildren into God’s hands.
I worked my shift, plus an additional hour, then went home. My arrival was not met with happy news. Upon arriving home, my husband was hustling to finish feeding animals. His words were confusing, my daughter had called, there was a gun, police and a gunshot involved. I quickly changed out of my wet, dirty work clothes, and I started driving toward my daughter’s home. On the road, I phoned my other daughter to pray giving her the confusing words and letting her know I was driving. A trip that takes me two hours to drive, was accomplished in an hour. She called during the trip to say she and the kids were safe, an ambulance was there so she had to go. As we drove we learned she and children were at another person’s home, but trying to find a place to stay the night. Then the address to a stranger’s house on where we were invited to stay the night, and possibly the next day. As we arrived in town, following GPS to where she would be staying, we arrived minutes after she did. At one point we were following here, only I missed a turn.
The first thing I wanted to do was hold my daughter close, but first I was made to promise “No vengeance”. See my children know me, anyone hurt my children and I am on the fight. I promised “No vengeance”, and went to hug her. She asked me not too tight as she hurt. She did not want to be touched her whole body hurt. We held and settled children into bed. Uncomfortable staying in a stranger’s home, with so many emotions and questions going on inside. But one piece of information was missing – where was her husband.
They needed someone to stay at her house as the cleaners came in to clean up the “mess”, so people could safely go into the home again. My husband said he would go. He was informed that some items might not be cleaned and saved, mostly pictures on the refrigerator. My husband said to just do the best that they can.
After a few hours, when the children were asleep, except one, my daughter holding and praying for peace and comfort, I managed to ask the question – where is ****? She looked at me, with tears and a strained voice “funeral home. I did not want this, I just wanted peace. Not this.”
The plan for the next day was not to slip where he was, but to say he was in the hospital. My daughter would tell her oldest after the final soccer game, with her pastor and his wife there. There were a few things needed before the soccer game, my husband and I returned to the home to retrieve items needed for the soccer game. Opening the door, a huge curtain sealed off the area. Then we returned to our temporary housing, to watch the three little boys, while others went to the soccer game. My other daughter and her husband arrived just before they left for the soccer game.
The people who opened there home to a distraught family, the wife was a real estate agent. That morning my husband and I were discussing with her to find a rental for my daughter to stay in, as we knew she and the children would not be able to live in their home. We had the finances to pay the deposits, and two months rent. But God already had a plan, a much better plan.
One of the people cleaning the site, noticed while taking down the pictures to clean on the refrigerator, in the soccer team picture the coach was his sister. He called his sister that night, saying something terrible has happened concerning one of her athletes. After the soccer game, the coach wanted a private conversation with my daughter. My daughter was keeping everything quiet, giving no information to anyone on what had happened that night. The coach said she knew what happened, and she had a house she was flipping, not ready for the market, but ready to be occupied that was big enough for her family. She could stay there as long as needed, no rent.
After the soccer game, visit with the Pastor and lunch to inform the six year old about her dad, we went to see the house. My husband and I went to her home to get some items for sleeping, clothes, and children items needed to start staying in another house. This time when we went to her home the curtain was removed, we walked through the door to see a hole where the ceiling and wall were removed, items placed, jumbled and random on the table.
Emotions, there were so many. Anger for what he had done to my daughter, leaving his children that way. Sadness for the loss of a family member. Relief that there was not going to be a long ugly divorce, and no peace for my daughter upon obtaining the divorce. Thoughts of grandchildren without a father, my daughter being a single mother, and the hardships I was well aquatinted with.
We gathered the items, and headed to another new address. The home was very large, luxurious, in the country yet close to town. Quiet and Peaceful. Located on 15 acres, with trees. A good place to start healing from the trauma and all that would follow.
Sunday, tomorrow, we would all go to church together. The church was bring food for lunch. After lunch a group of college students would meet us at the house to start moving what my daughter wanted to their new place of living. So, my husband returned home that evening to feed animals, and get our stock trailer to load and move house items in after church.
Sunday, there were plenty of help. The college students knew a tragedy had occurred in the home. There were plenty of boxes and packaging tape and two more trailers to move my daughter to a new location. I divided people into teams, a team per room. In four hours we had moved my daughter and the items she wanted to take to another home. Upon arriving at the new location, the same teams unpacked and set the rooms they had packaged up. Before dinner arrived, from the church, she was set up to start in a new home.
This tragic event created a complex emotional issues for me. Dealing with the threat to my daughter, and the fact that he wanted to kill her, and the loss of a family member of 11 years was difficult. On top of working for under an abusive supervisor, my phycological issues arose, I had a major panic attack at work one day. In June, the owner of the grocery store chain and his main office people were coming to the store. My supervisor showed up late, was in a bad mood when he arrived. Was having me do jobs that should have been done days before, while I was off. Then when I was to start helping cut meat portions for the counter that was empty, I asked what to cut. He stated whatever, so I started cutting a piece of meat into portions. Over half way through cutting the piece of meat, he slams his fists down, and asks my why I was cutting another piece of the same meat he had already cut. He had been criticizing me and telling me I was too slow all morning, and now I was cutting the wrong meat. I said I needed a break was going to take one. He followed me and said we needed to talk tot he manager, I said we are going to talk to the area supervisor when he gets there.
People have panic attacks in different ways. For me the world starts closing in, the walls start moving towards me, fear arises and my response is to run, and I do run. He continued to follow me out of the store stopping when I went outside the doors. When I got outside I sent a text to the district supervisor that the person was being a “jackass”. The walls had started moving in on me, breathe, just breathe I kept telling myself. No, too late, it was open, no walls outside, I took off as fast as my feet would hit the ground. Where was I going, I was going home, not my house, but the home in my heart. I was headed to Colorado. About two miles from the grocery store, I texted my husband and asked he wanted to go with me to Colorado. He knew I was in the middle of a panic attack, asked where I was. Three miles from the store he picked me up and took me home. I quit the job. Got into therapy.
About two months later, I have to get a job to meet the financial demands of our household. I start working for Wal-Mart. Only after a two and half months, once again, I quit. I can not handle the pressure to work with other, the physical demand on my 61 year old body. Taking over the counter pain pills every four hours to keep working with less pain is not good.
In September, I had to make the choice to put my beloved Bonnie Jo down. She did not know where she was or who I was, in extreme anxiety. She had been my emotional support pet for 15 years. I dug a hole in the front yard, where I could see her each morning as I start my day.
Two weeks later, I had to put my beloved show mare and kids horse, My Sweet Victoria down. She had injured and dislocated her shoulder, no way for it to heal. Could no longer walk. I dug another hole.
Three weeks later, I was digging another hole. My appaloosa stallion, Stolen Night, had cancer and I made the decision to put him down. Only in this hole I buried the dream of ever showing a horse again, or having anymore foals, into this grave as well. Burying what I had done most of my life, raise, train and show horses into a grave. I am too old to being doing that lifestyle anymore.
October also brought my daughter-in-law and four grandchildren living with us in a now cramped home due to the increase in occupants. She was moving closer to us, so she would have family support network and get counseling for her mental illness. In December, just before Christmas, she and my son found a rental for them to live in near us.
During the year, I also had two uncles pass away, a several friends. I no longer get the paper hand out a funerals, I do not want to look at or keep a reminder of a funeral.
We are still negotiating the tragedy of April 26. The real estate agent we stayed with that first night, became my daughter’s real estate agent in purchasing a new home, and selling her old home. All within October. So in October we were moving her to a new home again, this time a permanent home. My husband and I along with some people from the church once more moved her to her new abode. We go down once a week to help put things together and care for the children. Most important to just be with her, as she needs family with her. She and her daughter are in counseling weekly. We are careful in our conversations and answering questions with our granddaughter as she is still processing what happened April 26. She saw and heard more than a six year old should have been exposed to. We learn each week a little more of what happened that night.
Where am I at the end of this year. In counseling, getting back on my feet. Struggling with finances, trying to figure out how to get income into the household. Feeling older. For the first time, I feel old. Before I knew I had years but did not feel I had years. Now I feel the 61 winters I have seen.
Considering the number of decades I have lived, I do focus on the future, past and present. There are times I focus on the past and the fond memories of my children and grandchildren, most commonly done when going through pictures. Recently I needed to create more storage on my cell phone for pictures. Upon transferring the photos to my computer I discovered there were 974 pictures and all were of my grandchildren.
The photos show that at the time I was very much in the present moment. By taking a photo I was able to freeze that present moment for future seeing, remembering and feeling what the event and day was like.
There was a time I focused on the past, an unhappy past, as I was trying to gain some control over the symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It was only by focusing backwards I could improve my present and future. I still deal with the varied symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but the symptoms no longer control my present.
The future is always ahead of us, and some thought and plans need to be done to keep my life going or to prepare for events that will happen in the future. I may not know the date, time or place, but death will arrive. I am in the process of planning events of my death. I know it will be a very difficult time for my children and grandchildren. I want to make the decisions so they will not have to during their time of distress and sorrow, taking the burden off their shoulders.
There are times as a person we need to focus on the past, always be in the present and make some plans for the future. Dealing or being totally absorbed my a certain period of time is not good as we lose balance in our daily life. Balance is the key to living life to the fullest and enjoying the time we share together with others.
This year my Christmas Day was filled with little foot beats, giggles, laughs and a lot of noise, happy noise. My three grandchildren I cared for during the Spring and Summer and their parents spent Christmas at Granny’s house. It has been twelve years since a child spent Christmas Day at Granny’s.
The past years we have celebrated Christmas with family on a day other than December 25. After everyone has celebrated Christmas with their families and others, we would choose a date in January for a feast and gift exchange with us. Christmas Day past has been a quiet day with my husband.
Today, the grandchildren, my son and daughter-in-law started their trip returning home. The house is quiet, the train under the Christmas tree is still. I will miss them, each and everyone, but there is plans for them to visit again in April, and the coming summer.
The past week I have focused on painting snowflake decorations with my grandchildren, playing “Shark Bite”, baking and decorating sugar cookies for Santa. Times of doing chores and petting newborn lambs. Reading a bedtime story. Many meals to prepare and serve, thankfully my daughter-in-law washed the few dishes as paper plates were used for all meals.
Today is the day to change the focus to the approaching New Year. Plans are being formed and changes have to be made. Some of the changes will be sad ones. Thoughts of new adventures in creating income. Memories of this Christmas to help me keep my chin up as I begin a new and change year.
Today, we celebrated the birthday of my daughter’s triplet boys. It is hard to believe they will be a year old tomorrow. They were so very small at just a few ounces over 4 pounds, large for premature triplets. The doctor did not let the triplets reach full term due to the hardship on the mother’s body causing complications for mother and babies.
From a mere 4 pounds they have grown into little boys who are happy, very active and different from each other. When they were born, they were so small and would move quickly, making it necessary to hold them a specific way to prevent dropping them. Most of those attending did not hold them when they were born, due to them being so small and appearing fragile. I was blessed with the opportunity to help the parents care for these small precious gifts, three adults each with one baby helps the feeding to progress faster. Today, I helped one of the boys each their lunch, watching they did not choke on the pizza and spoon feeding them baby food.
They crawl everywhere, stand up with the aide of the furniture or their walking toys. It will not be long before they are walking everywhere. Big Sister is learning to keep her bedroom door closed, so her brothers do not get into her small toys and put them in their mouths.
Big Sister has and is learning to adjust to her little brothers. She had been an only child until she was five years old. Instead of learning to share life with one sibling, she has had to adjust to the demands of three at once. A protective Big Sister she is, making sure to inform and watch anyone around her brothers to be careful. There will be more adjustments for her to make when her little brothers become more mobile and older. I know she will not like her brothers much when she becomes a teenager with her friends or wants to start dating. Can you imagine introducing a potential boyfriend to your parents and triplet brothers?
The house is full of baby things, three highchairs for feeding, three swings when they were smaller, three cribs. There is not only the three of every baby item needed for their care. There is three times the giggles, three sounds to say they are ready to eat, three mouths open for food with two parents to spoon the baby food to the waiting child. Three little ones to hold and love. No one was fighting over a chance to hold the birthday boy today, as there was three to share.
The years ahead will be fun as we experience their continued growth and the challenges of having triplets in the family. Having triplets is not like having three babies born, they have their own little ways of communicating seen since they were born and continuing now.
Their eyes are locked in love’s eternal gaze, As they gently sway to the words of phrase. Her voice is scratchy due to age, The meaning is an eternal truth.
Simple words, simple tune Locked in time past now brought to the present. Many years have past since she sang the tune, As she gently swayed her little ones to sleep.
Once again, the memories flow of time past, And of the love that lasts. The love of mother to child sealed, with the love of Jesus within a tune.
Now a new little one hears the words of love, Sung from her heart like in ages past. The words roll forth and then repeat;
Beautiful, Beautiful. Jesus is beautiful. Jesus makes beautiful things of my life. Carefully touching me Causing my eyes to see. Jesus makes beautiful things of my life.
The gently sway of motion in time with words sung, The baby falls asleep listening to Granny’s lullaby.
April 10, I went and picked up my three grandchildren: Mr. A. a three year old, Mr. M a two year old, and Ms. L a ten month old infant. All three wear diapers, are very vocal, but not verbal. They were upset, unsure, afraid and angry. They did not know what was happening to their world, and a strange person was taking them to someplace they were not sure they knew.
I was not ready for three small children. The spare room was full of items we were storing while working on remodeling the master bedroom and bath. The morning we arrived to Granny’s Farm, we all slept in my bed, crowded but everyone slept, but Granny. The crib was in the storage shed. The house was not childproofed, there were dangerous things at ground level little hands could reach. No high chair for an infant, or safe play area for her to play while taking care of brothers or cooking a meal.
The two oldest children were angry, especially Mr. M. My son told me that they were having problems with Mr. M being angry all the time. Well, considering the mental state of their mother, and what the children must have been experiencing before she tried to commit suicide with them in the car. I could understand the anger.
Mr. M would get angry, lay on the floor screaming and kicking his feet. Or he might run to a room, close the door and start hitting himself with a toy or biting himself on the arm or hand. How does a person handle such anger? I simply picked him up and hugged him close. Not saying a word, just snuggling with him until his screams stopped and he snuggled down quietly.
Mr. A was the opposite. I would call his name, and he would hide under tables, chairs and behind curtains. He wanted to disappear and not be found.
The baby, Ms. L, seamed to enjoy the time she was with me and family. Her play area was made in the center of the living room, the place where we gathered to talk, play and watch television.
Everyone ate at the dinning room table. Meals times are on a set schedule, with everyone at the table including Ms. L in her highchair. Snack times are the same, everyone goes to the table and we eat together.
There is outdoor time of playing in the yards. One in front, after I removed all the things that could hurt a child. And one in the back after I hired some help, and they put up sheep panels around to prevent them from going to the pens of the horses and sheep and getting hurt. Two safe areas of play to explore outside everyday.
Twice a day they go out for chores. Yes, doing chores takes twice as long as little legs do not make large steps as I do. But they enjoy the animals. Running with the puppies when they are let out each morning for all day. And petting the adult dogs when they are let out each evening. Seeing the sheep and petting the muzzles of the horses. Ms. L goes along to as I purchased a stroller wagon. She is able to sit, strapped in, and be pushed along the way to meet the animals and watch the excitement of puppies, with a short visit from them.
The anger has gone away. Mr. M loves the animals and has learned that even though things are different, and he is told “No”, this is not a bad place to be. His waking screaming in the night has stopped, he sleeps through the night, resting from a busy day.
Mr. A is no longer hiding under the table or behind a curtain, he is on the couch to watch the movie, a constant shadow and helper when it is chore time. Laughing hard as he runs with the puppies. He smiles as he loves on our large male Livestock Guard Dog, Bruno. Bruno and Mr. A see each other eye to eye. Bruno and Mr. A, walk around with Mr. A’s hand on Bruno’s shoulder checking out the yard to make sure it is safe for the sheep before the sheep are turned out to graze.
They have learned not to enter the pens unless an adult is with them. There are places and equipment they can not climb on. Not because we do not want them there, but because they understand we do not want them hurt.
Mealtimes are fun times. Each meal starts with pray. The food was very different from what they were used to as Granny cooks differently than their mom. They understand the rule of one bite of everything is required. And there are always seconds and thirds of the things you like. A few times each week, there is dessert that Granny has made, “Yum Yum” as they say. Learning to say words and laughing at Papaw’s words. We take our time to eat, there is no rush. We eat, talk and laugh.
There is more smiles than sadness or tears. We have learned fighting is not allowed, as Granny takes the toys away and they have to sit in chairs. Instead we learn the words “share” and “take turns” to get along during the day.
No more fighting to not go to bed. The run to the bedroom, sometimes they just walk as they are too tired to run. Granny places their toy, special blanket from home, give hugs and kisses, then tucks them into bed with the words, “I love you, sleep well”. Papaw takes his turn with hugs and kisses and “I love you.” They know in the morning Granny will be there to hug them, kiss them, get them breakfast and have a fun day of laughs and giggles. Learning new things, new words and exploring what is around them.
Yesterday we went to visit my daughter with the triplets and six year old daughter and husband’s home for a Mother’s Day dinner. There is a lot of planning in taking three small children to a different place for a few hours. Diapers, bottles, baby food, change of clothes as the oldest is working on toilet training. Loading them into the vehicle with three car seats. Stopping half way for the older one who is toilet training to visit the restroom.
After arriving, the boys, Mr. M and Mr. A, were shy and very clinging. I am thinking they were afraid they were going to be left there. Also, seeing three little babies in high chairs being fed their meal, and another child about their age running around, was a shock. The boys acted like typical toddlers going into a strange place. Ms. L, who is eleven months old, was excited to have babies to socialize with. She enjoyed babbling to and spending time on the floor with the triplets who are three months younger.
The adult conversation revolved around children. Diaper sizes – who is wearing what size of diaper. The different thermometers and which works best, diaper rash ointments, lotions, shampoo, and soaps. How the children – Mr. A, Mr. M and Ms. L are adapting. The different methods of discipline, or dealing with anger among small children. Teaching to talk, share and take turns. Age milestones and methods to help the small ones achieve their milestones or catch up. Fun time in the yard climbing up slides or swinging on swings, trying to the older children from accidently hurting the other.
When dinner time arrived, after feeding the four infants, it was what do they eat, how much and food allergies. Mr. M is lactose intolerant. The discussion was not about recipes or how our looking for a place to purchase closer to where my daughter and family live.
The conversations between my daughters and myself have changed since I started caring for and raising my three grandchildren. The conversations are me asking questions on what products are available today for the care of children. Safe sleeping for children based on age. Their opinions on toys for early learning.
Finally today, on driving back from the grocery store, I realized I am once again a “Mom”. Not just their Granny, but the one who feeds them, bathes them, makes a home safe for them to live in, and meets their daily needs emotionally, mentally and physically and well as spiritually. I am being a full-time “Mom” to three of my grandchildren.
When will my daughter-in-law be mentally well to care for her children? Years down the road. How many years? Considering she has panic attacks cleaning the house, overwhelmed by what needs to be done. Or is so depressed she is unable to do anything. Unable to go to a store by herself. A lot of years will pass before if ever she is able to handle caring for her children.
Meanwhile, I will do the work, give the love and support to my grandchildren as if they were my children.
Me, Myself and I 