Which to share first? I generally try to get the bad news out of the way first, but this time I can’t transition between the two in a way that makes it seem like I don’t care about the bad news. So, good news it is first.

Let me start with some cute little kid-isms from Monday’s ride to school.

On the way to school yesterday we got stopped by a train. Which is not unusual, but I was hoping the train would not be a rather long one that would make us late. I was groaning about it a little bit and Jaiden was getting bent out of shape, so I decided to turn it into a positive.

“Well maybe God sent the train for Jenna’s birthday because He knows she loves them,” I offered.

“God is special,” Jaylen said, smiling.

“God IS special, Jaylen,” Jaiden added. “He heals people when they are sick!”

I love how much they are interested in God and Jesus. It really warms my heart.

“Ooh, tane, Mommy!” Jenna said, excitedly. “TANE! Choo-choo!”

What can I say? We can’t all be biblical, but adorable is a good alternative for the meantime. Ha.

Then, a few minutes later, during a kid discussion about bad words:

“Birds say cussing words,” said Jaylen.

“No they don’t!” chirped Jaiden. “They just tweet!“

Last week Jaiden told me, “Mommy, you can do anything in life but whisper a lot …”

Adorable! lol.

Now on to the other stuff …

We prayed for Jenna at church on Sunday. As I mentioned, it’s a new tradition we’re starting. The prayer was one of two birthday prayers from the Book of Common Prayer. The sneaky little devil kept snatching cookies from the table in the parish hall following the service. lol.

Afterwards we headed home where Jenna went down for a nap and I got busy making cupcakes. At 3 p.m. we had a small party in honor and in celebration of her second birthday. Tyrel, Katie and Caiden came up as did our longtime friends, Inez and Steve. Darin was out of town, but his mom brought Emma up (it’s actually her mother’s weekend, so it was very generous of her to let her come visit for a couple of hours). And then, of course, all of my kids and my parents were there. That’s already a house full of folks. lol. We had hamburgers/cheeseburgers and hotdogs for a late lunch/early supper around 4-4:30 p.m. or so. We did cupcakes and presents and such and the party ended about 5:30-6 p.m. The little miss made out like a bandit and now has her own toys that her brother and sister can’t keep their hands off of! Ha.

Yesterday was her actual birthday. She’s two! How can that be? She used to be this teeny little jaundiced baby with a squeaky little squall of a cry. So precious – then and now. It’s unreal how much they grow and change in just two years. She’s a big girl now – she brushes her teeth and tries to dress herself, she speaks in sentences, she has a lot of teeth and long hair (to the middle of her shoulder blades when its wet), she’s learning to use the potty (she pooped in the potty for the first time at her caregiver’s house today!). She can use utensils. She likes to dance and loves to play with her big brother and sister. Of course she loves to get into everything, too. She’s very sweet.

Yesterday we took cupcakes to school and they sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to her. In the evening we grabbed Happy Meals for dinner, ate them and had cupcakes for dessert. We sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to her and she blew her candles out – on Sunday she was confused about it. (I have a TON of photos, but they are ALL in RAW format, not JPEG, so I have to open and edit them before I can share the rest. That will come in time.)

Birthdays always have a way of making me sentimental. To me, birthdays are a time to reflect on the past, the present and the future; where we’ve been, where we are and where we’re going. I am so proud of Jenna, Jaylen and Jaiden. My heart is overwhelmed with pride, with love and with joy.

And as overwhelmed as I am with love and joy, tonight I am equally overwhelmed with grief and sadness. (Yes, here comes the bad news.)

On Friday we were told that my grandfather, my dad’s father, was not doing well. He’s been in a nursing home for a couple of years, give or take, because he has Alzheimer’s/Dementia. We were told it was likely he’d be gone before his 85th birthday, which is May 8.

Fast-forward to this morning. Jaiden’s teacher is going to have her little baby a couple of weeks earlier than expected and today she was coming to the classroom to get her things, so I went home to retrieve the baby gift that Jaiden and two of her friends went in on (well, actually, it was the mothers, but you know what I mean!) and my dad told me that my grandfather had gone downhill since this weekend. The end of his journey was nearing.

Around lunchtime I began soliciting prayers from some of my support people. I knew that death was inevitable (he’s not been eating or drinking lately) and so I was asking for prayers for a smooth transition, for no more pain and for healing for my grandmother and other family members. I had to call and let Darin know what was going on (he’s still out of state). Several minutes after e-mailing my prayer request to our deacon, I received a phone call letting me know that my grandfather had passed at approximately 1:35 p.m.

I know that everyone’s grandparents die. Everyone dies. We can’t get around that. But that is of little comfort, I have to say.

I’m now grandfather-less. And my parents have both lost their fathers. What do you say to someone who’s just lost a parent, especially when they’re your own parent? I really don’t think there’s much that can be said that’s comforting.

I hadn’t seen my grandfather since May 2003, when the family gathered together for his 80th birthday. We weren’t particularly close. I couldn’t tell you what his favorite color was or what kind of music he listened to. I can’t tell you his war stories or how he felt when he married my grandmother and became the father to three sons, the grandfather of six granddaughters and four grandsons or the great-grandfather to the multitude of great-grandchildren.

Over the many summers we spent with my other grandparents, I did learn a few things about him. My dad’s parents would take us on Wednesdays, I believe, and we’d go to lunch somewhere. Once he drove us by his birthplace, a home that had long since been torn down with tall pine trees growing in the place where he had spent his early years. I remember that he used to measure our height in the door frame of his garage in the house where my grandmother currently lives – and that one day someone hired to paint the detached wooden garage had inadvertantly painted over the markings that held a piece of our recorded history. I remember that he liked westerns and Jeopardy and drank whiskey and 7-Up. My brothers and I still remember fondly the rhythymic beat he’d pound out on the table, challenging us to remember it (it took awhile, but we finally got it down and still have it down). He liked the brain-teasing puzzles, like interlocking rings that’d you’d have to separate. He loves his dogs Mitsy, the fat beagle who had a broken and deformed foot, and Tina (“Teeny”). He gave me the nickname “Eek” when I was a little girl. Last summer I learned that he was a good dancer when he was young – the jitterbug, I believe? – something I couldn’t ever imagine him doing.

Just before my first grandfather passed away (March 17, 2007), my aunt had given him a “Grandpa Remembers” calendar in which he was given a prompt and was to fill in one memory each day. We have a few days of that calendar filled out and I have always wished that we had done the same for Gramps. Then he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and before you know it, he couldn’t remember past World War II. He didn’t remember getting married. He didn’t remember having sons or grandchildren. I regret not getting his history in written form.

At this time we’re currently unsure of when services will be held. He will be cremated, then buried in the town he called home for most of his life.

Tonight I explained to the kids that their great-grandfather, who two of them have never met and none of them remember, had gone to live with Jesus in Heaven, that there would be a funeral and that people might be crying, but it’s because they missed Gramps. They seemed to handle it pretty well. I’m hoping they aren’t scared when the day comes.

I hate this. I hate death. I am dreading going through this again and again, because I know it will happen until the end of time. It’s such a sad thing. But at least Gramps is at peace now. The kids are right – God is special because he heals people who are sick. I know that he never met – nor even knew – that I had two more children and that each of my brothers has had children as well. Maybe now he is back to the Gramps we remember – and maybe now he knows and remembers everything he lost over the last few years.

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