Four grandchildren, that is. Each one precious, unique, exuberant and perfect in every way. But, then, I’m their grammy. I adore them all.
On Monday morning, I got the call I’d been anticipating for about a week. “Mom, I’m having some contractions. It’ll probably be here within the next 24 hours.” We’re all calm here. I tell her BH and I are playing bridge but will be out by early to mid afternoon. Nothing to be panicked about….even though I’m the go-to person to head into Baltimore to take care of her 20 month old.
Three hours later, in the middle of our game, I get a call from her husband. Things are progressing….more rapidly than they expected. “Okay, we should finish here in an hour, so call Justin and Jeannette to come stay with Kevin until I get there.” That’s my son and his fiancee who live very close by. It’s Memorial Day so no one’s working. All I’m thinking is here I am playing bridge and my daughter’s in labor….she is going to divorce me.
Not thirty minutes goes by and I get another phone call. This one from Justin. “How are things?” “Okay. Chelsea’s still here and Kevin’s taking a nap. I think they’re leaving soon.” “When he gets up, just take him outside to play or watch the Orioles game with him in TV. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll text you when I’m leaving.”
The game seemed interminable….there are some excruciatingly slow, old bridge players and today they were worse than ever. But, finally, we flew out of there like bats in hell and raced to Olney where I threw some things in a bag and took off to Baltimore.
They had left about an hour before I got there and Kevin was having a blast, watching the O’s and hitting his ball with his bat, although it looked a lot more like golf than baseball. Jeannette had written detailed instructions on a napkin that we followed to the letter, including the pasta with butter dinner. We wore him out chasing us in the park and then later around the house.
This daughter of mine loves surprises. We had no idea if it was a boy or girl or what the name would be. By 5, I was done with the suspense so I texted Matt. “What’s going on???!!!” “Brendan Oscar arrived at 5 pm.” OMG!!! Wow….another boy….just what she wanted. She’s a practical one….it’ll be hand me downs his whole life. No worries about conjuring up another bedroom. Brendan? Seriously, I could cry. However, we all agree that Brendan is a whole lot cooler name than Brenda, my name.
I will also tell you that this daughter is beyond brave. This was her second natural birth in a birthing tub. The difference was that this birthing center was about 40 minutes from her home and this boy came at lightning speed. They were a little concerned she might give birth in the car. When she arrived, the staff told her it would take 40 minutes to fill the bigger pool, but she said this baby was not waiting that long. And 30 minutes later, Brendan entered the world.
So, at dinner time, I asked Kevin where the baby was and he pointed at his tummy, “Mommy.” “Well, guess what? The baby decided to come out from hiding today and you have a little brother who will be coming home with Mommy and Daddy after you go to sleep. Baby Brendan.” And he repeated, “Brendan” clear as anything.
Shortly after reading “Good Night, Moon, “Curious George Goes to the Zoo,” and “Clifford the Big Red Dog,” it was lights out and I never heard another sound. Until a couple of hours later when Chelsea, Matt and Brendan entered the back door. Can you stand it? Wow….it’s a new world these millennials are creating.
This little one is a sleeper as opposed to his big brother, who didn’t close his eyes for hours after he was born. He’s so mellow, Chelsea is bored. Of course, that will all change as Kevin enters the terrible twos (not my grandson, lol) and Brendan becomes a little more demanding.
We all wondered how Kevin would react to his new brother. Would he be angry or change his habits? Would he insist on more attention? But, nothing like that happened. The next day, his daddy took him to the park but he didn’t want to play. He wanted to come home to see his brother. He wants to sit right next to him and smother him with kisses.
Nothing like me, thank heavens. My mother told me the day they brought my sister home I ran out the back door into the woods. Two years old! All the neighbors spent hours looking for me until I suddenly showed up again.
Next week, BH and I move into Baltmore for three weeks to help the new family settle into their new routine. We’ll be living a block away. Can’t wait! Who knew grandparenting could be so satisfying?
Saturday, May 30, 2015
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
50 Years
As if to remind me of how fleeting life is, last weekend celebrated the 50th reunion of my high school classmates….Oak Ridge High School, Orlando, Florida, Class of 65. Our mascot? The pioneer. And little did we know how that signified our futures, as we were the last of the Leave It To Beaver 50s family generation caught on the cusp of vast cultural change through the tumultuous 60s and 70s. Yes, we were Pioneers….and we thought it was just a little rifle-totin’ guy from the West in a coonskin hat and leather pants and jacket.
One of my classmates described it as a “surreal” experience and I concur with that, having spent hours in reflection since my return flight to Maryland. There were over 300 in our graduating class and, sadly, we’ve lost 60 members, which my actuary daughter told me was about right. Evidently, if you live to 18, you have an 80% chance of living to age 68. I don’t dare ask about 80.
It was nothing if not an eclectic group albeit 100% Caucasian….years before integration took hold in the South. There were the natives….people like me who were born in Florida who had lived in our very small community, Pine Castle, their entire childhoods. Even my mother, aunts and uncles had attended Pine Castle Elementary and I had many of the same teachers they had.
There were the base kids. The kids whose fathers were in the Air Force and lived on McCoy Air Force Base….the same base where my father was stationed and met my mother at a dance in the 40s. Often, the friendships were cut short by another transfer. Those who ended up there during our high school days enriched our small town lives immensely with their knowledge, wit, and determination to belong.
There were the Sky Lake kids, a new development for the Martin Marietta engineers and their families. There were the Belle Isle kids with their lakefront homes. There were the trailer park kids, the wrong side of the track kids, the “hoods” who drag raced down dirt roads on Saturday nights.
Of course, there were cliques and circles of friends that were changing as we chugged along through our adolescent years. But, overall, it was a pretty peace loving group. I seriously don’t remember any knock down drag out fights like I’ve witnessed during my years in education. But, then again, my memory is channeled through rose-colored glasses and I tend to block out the worst.
How I wanted to speak with everyone….over 100 classmates; but, how can you catch up 50 years in just a few hours? So many stories to tell and so little time. I applaud all the spouses who came….now that’s some real bravery. I didn’t bring Buff Honey, my perfectly self-contained partner, who would prefer to read the daily paper on the deck. How bored would he be??? One hour into it he would be whispering, “Sugar, can we go now?” Well, noooooo! As it is, we had three events and I was among the last to leave at each of them. It was just too much fun!
Most of our classmates, I never saw after high school. Some I saw at intermittent class reunions and a very few I’ve seen multiple times. My friend, Jan, heard there wasn’t going to be a 40th reunion, so some of the females started planning bi-annual beach trips 10 years ago. The best line at the end of the first one: “When we get together next time, we can share all the same stories and no one will remember them.” Oh, yeah.
My homeroom buddy and fellow cheerleader was there, felled eight years ago by a stroke which left her in a wheelchair and unable to take care of herself. This fate after she married her high school sweetheart, who according to her was ‘doing’ every female in Florida. But, he settled on ‘doing’ their neighbor while my friend was pregnant with twins. They divorced and he married the neighbor. Undaunted, she went to law school and, eventually, opened her own successful law practice. Truly one of the most energetic and independent women who had overcome nearly impossible circumstances. She refuses to be bitter.
Our class president. You know the type, Mr Everything. Homecoming King, Best All Around, Most Handsome, Greatest Smile. I’ve known him since first grade but I would never have known him. Sadly, he’s afflicted with Parkinson’s. His humor, however, is still in tact.
My favorite English teacher, Mrs. Holt, was there. The best teacher I ever had in my 20 years of education. She was only in her middle 20s when she taught us….incredible. She looked younger than most of us! I told her I wrote a blog, which I’m sure surprised the heck out of her since I was the worst writer in my class.
My friend, Susie, and I stayed together, fretting that we wouldn’t recognize anybody and, worse, they wouldn’t recognize us! She clearly had nothing to worry about, however. The nerds have turned out, naturally, very well and look pretty good, too. One of my best friends had a $15,000 face lift and I hate her. This is no Joan Rivers facelift. She looks fantastic! She looks so good I may go back to work and start saving!
One of the shiest girls in our class turned out to be an airline pilot. Miss Personality was a California politician turned Methodist Minister who is raising her two Tibetan granddaughters. Lila, blind since birth, raised four children and has been a medical transcriptionist, social worker and actress. Now, she’s launching her own company to inspire others to overcome challenges. My impish classmate who drove me to school everyday is on the mission field in Mexico.
So many stories, so little time. Last weekend was nothing if not inspiring. Heaven knows by this age we’ve all encountered tragedy and setbacks. Yet, haven’t we also known great joy? There is immeasurable strength in the human spirit. I am beyond grateful to have come together again with this community.
50 years. So fast, so full, so inspirational. Until we meet again, dear classmates, keep dancing.
One of my classmates described it as a “surreal” experience and I concur with that, having spent hours in reflection since my return flight to Maryland. There were over 300 in our graduating class and, sadly, we’ve lost 60 members, which my actuary daughter told me was about right. Evidently, if you live to 18, you have an 80% chance of living to age 68. I don’t dare ask about 80.
It was nothing if not an eclectic group albeit 100% Caucasian….years before integration took hold in the South. There were the natives….people like me who were born in Florida who had lived in our very small community, Pine Castle, their entire childhoods. Even my mother, aunts and uncles had attended Pine Castle Elementary and I had many of the same teachers they had.
There were the base kids. The kids whose fathers were in the Air Force and lived on McCoy Air Force Base….the same base where my father was stationed and met my mother at a dance in the 40s. Often, the friendships were cut short by another transfer. Those who ended up there during our high school days enriched our small town lives immensely with their knowledge, wit, and determination to belong.
There were the Sky Lake kids, a new development for the Martin Marietta engineers and their families. There were the Belle Isle kids with their lakefront homes. There were the trailer park kids, the wrong side of the track kids, the “hoods” who drag raced down dirt roads on Saturday nights.
Of course, there were cliques and circles of friends that were changing as we chugged along through our adolescent years. But, overall, it was a pretty peace loving group. I seriously don’t remember any knock down drag out fights like I’ve witnessed during my years in education. But, then again, my memory is channeled through rose-colored glasses and I tend to block out the worst.
How I wanted to speak with everyone….over 100 classmates; but, how can you catch up 50 years in just a few hours? So many stories to tell and so little time. I applaud all the spouses who came….now that’s some real bravery. I didn’t bring Buff Honey, my perfectly self-contained partner, who would prefer to read the daily paper on the deck. How bored would he be??? One hour into it he would be whispering, “Sugar, can we go now?” Well, noooooo! As it is, we had three events and I was among the last to leave at each of them. It was just too much fun!
Most of our classmates, I never saw after high school. Some I saw at intermittent class reunions and a very few I’ve seen multiple times. My friend, Jan, heard there wasn’t going to be a 40th reunion, so some of the females started planning bi-annual beach trips 10 years ago. The best line at the end of the first one: “When we get together next time, we can share all the same stories and no one will remember them.” Oh, yeah.
My homeroom buddy and fellow cheerleader was there, felled eight years ago by a stroke which left her in a wheelchair and unable to take care of herself. This fate after she married her high school sweetheart, who according to her was ‘doing’ every female in Florida. But, he settled on ‘doing’ their neighbor while my friend was pregnant with twins. They divorced and he married the neighbor. Undaunted, she went to law school and, eventually, opened her own successful law practice. Truly one of the most energetic and independent women who had overcome nearly impossible circumstances. She refuses to be bitter.
Our class president. You know the type, Mr Everything. Homecoming King, Best All Around, Most Handsome, Greatest Smile. I’ve known him since first grade but I would never have known him. Sadly, he’s afflicted with Parkinson’s. His humor, however, is still in tact.
My favorite English teacher, Mrs. Holt, was there. The best teacher I ever had in my 20 years of education. She was only in her middle 20s when she taught us….incredible. She looked younger than most of us! I told her I wrote a blog, which I’m sure surprised the heck out of her since I was the worst writer in my class.
My friend, Susie, and I stayed together, fretting that we wouldn’t recognize anybody and, worse, they wouldn’t recognize us! She clearly had nothing to worry about, however. The nerds have turned out, naturally, very well and look pretty good, too. One of my best friends had a $15,000 face lift and I hate her. This is no Joan Rivers facelift. She looks fantastic! She looks so good I may go back to work and start saving!
One of the shiest girls in our class turned out to be an airline pilot. Miss Personality was a California politician turned Methodist Minister who is raising her two Tibetan granddaughters. Lila, blind since birth, raised four children and has been a medical transcriptionist, social worker and actress. Now, she’s launching her own company to inspire others to overcome challenges. My impish classmate who drove me to school everyday is on the mission field in Mexico.
So many stories, so little time. Last weekend was nothing if not inspiring. Heaven knows by this age we’ve all encountered tragedy and setbacks. Yet, haven’t we also known great joy? There is immeasurable strength in the human spirit. I am beyond grateful to have come together again with this community.
50 years. So fast, so full, so inspirational. Until we meet again, dear classmates, keep dancing.
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