Before Grandma’s funeral, the family was asked if they had anything to share about Grandma’s life. I came up with a short speech that I hoped would tell what I loved most about her. Here’s what I said:

Grandma kept a tag on her keychain that said “when Irish eyes are smiling, they’re up to something.” If that’s true, then Grandma was always up to something because she always had a twinkle in her eye.
Continue reading →

Today was the first day back in the office after a marathon trip to my Grandmother’s funeral. I took a moment to reacquaint myself with the concept of work, but soon was back in the swing of things.

In the morning I went back to my car to fetch something when I noticed a familiar pool of green liquid on the pavement near my car: coolant. Yikes. I corralled a coworker to drop me off at Happy Japs and went to lunch while they worked on it. Fortunately, the leak was from a worn-out hose, an inevitability for a car pushing fifteen years old.

I probably should be concerned driving a car that long, but my 1990 Honda Accord is in great shape in most every respect. I watched it surpass 213,000 miles recently and think it will easily top 300,000. While I could get another car, I admit that the novelty of an old car appeals to me. That, and not having a car payment, of course.

I had a dental cleaning scheduled for today, too. I canceled it when I had to take my car in but then begged to have it back. Fortunately they were able to see me, as the next available appointment would’ve been February. I take my teeth very seriously, you know.

The family was happy to see me when I came home, which is the highlight of my day. Hallie seems happy to be home, and I don’t blame her. Being cooped up in the car for four days tested the patience of everyone. Still, it was worth it.

Not much left to say right now. I need to write up the rest of my weekend. Stay tuned.

I managed to find Grandma’s obituary on the Panama City News Herald website. The link to it is here, but since the site isn’t link-friendly, here it is, reposted.

ANN SMITH TURNER

Ann Smith Turner, 93, of Panama City, died Friday, Dec. 10, 2004. She was born Feb. 22, 1911, in Port Gibson, Miss., and had been a resident of Panama City since 1934. Continue reading →

We got back from Florida about 45 minutes ago. It was a long, long trip. There’s unpacking to do and a nap for Hallie to start, but comments and pictures will be posted as soon as I can get to them.

We made it to Panama City this afternoon after a long trek south. Our day started where yesterday’s ended: Commerce, GA, also known as The Athens Exit Off I-85. Traveling today was pretty easy, with Travis snoozing for nice long stretches and Hallie not snoozing but having fun regardless.

We arrived into town about an hour behind my parents and Jeff and Suzie, which isn’t bad for having to stop every few hours to nurse Travis. We managed to roll into the Winn Dixie at the edge of town before Travis began wailing again for his next meal. While Kelly nursed him, Hallie and I grabbed a few grocery items for our stay.

We got to our condominium with no time to spare to get ready for the viewing. Travis finished his lunch while Hallie and I got dressed. We sped across town to my grandmother’s house where the rest of the family was socializing and eating. There were cousins I hadn’t seen in years, all grown up and with family. It was a bit of a shock realizing how long its been since we’d all gotten together.

Most of the rest of the family headed to the funeral home while we scrambled to feed our famished selves. Aunt Nancy tossed me the keys to the house before she headed out the door. We grabbed snacks and packed the kids back into the car.

In spite of Aunt Nancy telling me twice how to get there, I still managed to get us lost. We showed up a half-hour into things, about the time the first set of friends and family were heading out. As Kelly and I chatted with folks, Hallie and Hadley spent their time gleefully chasing each other around the room. It was fun to see the kids enjoying themselves.

I did get a chance to peek in at my grandmother’s casket. There she was, in a peacefully-sleeping pose. Next to the casket was a fantastic picture of her taken on last year’s trip to Ireland. In the picture, she’s all bundled up, her tongue peeking from her mouth and a twinkle in her blue eyes. That twinkle is what I’ll always remember about Grandma.

Way too early in the evening, the kids needed to be put to bed. We wisked them back to the condo, where both pitched their own style of fits: Travis demanding food and Hallie demanding she go home and sleep in her own bed. While Kelly soothed Travis (what did you expect? That I would???), I coaxed Hallie into her bed by reading a couple of familiar stories. Before long, both were sleeping comfortably.

As I gathered our stuff up from Grandma’s house on the way to the funeral home, Hallie innocently told Kelly “we didn’t see Grandma there.” Then on the way, she hopefully said “we might see her again.”

Kelly and I fell silent, not sure what to say. We hadn’t planned how we were going to tell our kids about death and dying. We’d peppered most of our talk about Grandma Ann with little mentions of how she won’t be around anymore, or that she’s gone away, or gone to heaven. At every mention, Hallie gets a quizzical look on her face as she tries to comprehend. So far, we don’t know what might get the point across.

It was because of our this that we chose not to have Hallie see Grandma Ann in her casket. It wouldn’t mean anything to her at this stage in her life. And we certainly wouldn’t want to tell her she’s sleeping, since she’d most likely begin to anxiously try to wake her up. Or she might begin to fear sleeping herself.

Tomorrow’s the funeral, at 2 PM. Then we plan to socialize a bit before heading back to the condo and packing for the long trip home. Our initial plan is to wake up very early on Monday and try to put the whole 560 miles under our belts before bedtime. It may be ambitious, but all of us could use a bit of our normal routine right now.

I may post tomorrow night if I get the chance. If not, see you Monday.

I’ve been very busy at work the past few weeks, running a technical support and technical sales department. I’m on the phone constantly. Since the holidays are around the corner, I stepped up and organized a holiday dinner for the company.

It was in the midst of all this chaos that I snuck away from my desk and made a phone call. My 93-year-old grandmother was in the hospital with a broken leg and my dad suggested we give her a call.

I called Wednesday afternoon around 2 PM. My Aunt Nancy jovially answered the phone. From the sound of her voice, it sounded like a party was going on. We chatted a moment and then she handed the phone over to Grandma.

“So, the new career as a stuntwoman isn’t working out, huh,” I said.

“What’s that?” she answered. I caught her off guard.

“You know, jumping off of houses and stuff. I told you it wasn’t a good idea,” I teased. She chuckled.

She had fallen in the kitchen a few days ago, had just had a pin put in her leg, and already she had done a bit of walking on it. I told her I was impressed.

I asked how she was holding up.

“Oh, doing okay for 93.” And she was. She sounded great.

“So tell me about your routine there.”

“Well,” she began. “I sleep in the morning until they wake me up. I eat breakfast and then sleep until lunchtime, when they wake me up. I eat and sleep again. It’s the life of Riley.” It was good to hear she still had her sense of humor.

I asked about the rehab she was facing. “Oh, I don’t know anything about that. You’ll have to ask Nancy or someone.”

Good, I thought. In this case at least, ignorance is definitely bliss. Rehab for a broken leg is no picnic. It is daunting for everyone, not just thouse of us lucky enough to be 93.

I wished her a speedy recovery and let her know we were thinking about her. She said to say hello to my family. After exchanging “I love yous,” I hung up. The timer on my phone read five minutes.

It was the first time I could ever remember her being in the hospital. It was also her last. This incredibly strong and loved woman checked herself out, passing away peacefully in the night.

Good for her, I thought as my mom broke the news to me this morning.

Half of Florida will likely be at her funeral on Sunday. We’ll be there, too, paying respects to a wonderful woman.

Thanks for everything, Grandma. We love you and miss you.

I had an insight I had while doing yard work on Saturday. I was out leaf-blowing when a picture popped into my head of Snoopy holding a leafblower. An entire completed comic strip arranged itself in my mind as I worked. I felt like I could be Charles Schulz.

I thought about the fun I had drawing and sketching, starting in middle school and continuing into my twenties. It’s a shame I haven’t found more time to doodle and draw.

I made another connection, too, and that’s that blogging and drawing a comic strip have a lot in common. They both exercise your ability to come up with something to say. With a moment or two of inspiration like the kind I got out noodling around the yard, I could bring characters to life on paper. Or on the Internet, a la Dr. Fun.

Maybe I’ll add to my Christmas list a graphics tablet. And also give myself the gift of more time to draw.

Today is the twenty-fourth anniversary of the death of John Lennon.

We still miss you, John.

From today’s forecast:

TODAY
DENSE FOG EARLY…THEN VARIABLY CLOUDY BREEZY AND MILD. A
SLIGHT CHANCE OF SHOWERS THIS MORNING…THEN A BETTER CHANCE OF
SHOWERS THIS AFTERNOON AND POSSIBLY THUNDERSTORMS. HIGHS 70 TO 75.
SOUTHWEST WINDS INCREASING TO 10 TO 20 MPH WITH GUSTS UP TO 30 MPH
THIS AFTERNOON. CHANCE OF RAIN 50 PERCENT.

High of seventy-five? It’s a week into December. Sheesh.