verb
1. to clean (a house) thoroughly; traditionally at the end of winter
It may not be spring or the end of winter, but "spring-clean" is exactly what Saturday consisted of at Hill Haven. Saturday's cleaning session stemmed from a text message, received from my husband at 1:35am last Wednesday. It simply read: "FYI. We are getting both our children's beds set up this weekend."
You see, I'm not a "by the book" parent. I'm more of a "go with the flow and see what happens type of parent." So, it comes as no surprise that more often than not, I have a two a half year old that sleeps in my bed and a nine year old that crashes on my bedroom floor. I'll admit, it's not always the most glamorous situation (case and point on Tuesday evening/Wednesday morning when Tristan, who was not feeling well, groaned all night and his little sister flipped at least a dozen times while in my bed).
So Saturday, we spent the day tearing down beds, setting up beds, tearing down closet doors (those awful gold trimmed mirrored doors), sorting through toys and re-arranging. Tristan's room was first and then we made our way to Brynlee's.
While cleaning Brynlee's room, I decided to rearrange the books on her bookshelf. Both the kids and I are guilty of throwing the books in random piles and arrangements on the shelves as we put them away. In the midst of re-arranging I found a small, lime green birthday gift bag on the second shelf. Unsure of what it was, I decided to open the bag and investigate. In it I found a stack of birthday cards, one's that I'd saved from Brynlee's first and Tristan's eighth birthdays.
Flipping through the cards, an envelope with the words "Miss Brynlee" written across it stood out among the others. It was written in handwriting that I'd recognize anywhere, handwriting that I'd seen many times over the last 28 years, my grandmother's. Inside, the following message was written, " Happy 1st birthday to someone who is so sweet and beautiful she takes our breath away. Love, Gramma Gloria"
Just like that, the tears come.
It's been almost a year since my Grandma left this Earth. Some days it hurts so bad I can hardly stand it.
My Grandma always kept bread ties. I never understood why but she did. She had a stash of them and by golly, she'd find a use for them. In the months since my Grandma's passing, I too have starting saving bread ties. For what I'm not sure but I can't seem to bring myself to throw them away. Maybe it's because of the smile that comes across my face every time I get into my silverware drawer and find them, a reminder of her and the memories we shared.
My Grandma was special. And I know, everyone probably argues that same point about their own grandparents but the relationship I had with my Grandmother is one that I will cherish forever. Yes, she could drive me crazy. Heaven forbid you had mismatched sheets on your bed. My Grandma thought in black and white while I enjoy exploring the grey areas, seeing what they have to teach me. But she was there for everything, all the big moments, but more importantly, all the small ones in between.
She was the creator of traditions - because of her we play bingo every Christmas Eve. She taught me to love being in the kitchen (even though to this day I am still a terrible cook). But hey, I'm learning. She was my biggest supporter. She believed in me. She believed that my writing was a talent and that it'd take me places.
And it was then, seeing that envelope, reading that message, that I realized it really is true what they say. Grief does come in stages. And no matter how hard you to try to prepare yourself for grief in any of it's forms, there's going to be times when you're not ready, when you can't take it. But there's also going to be times that you find joy in the memories, that you laugh instead of crying.
I came across a quote about grief: "You will lose someone you can't live without and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you will never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through. It's like a having a broken leg that never heals perfectly - that still hurts when the weather gets cold but you learn to dance with the limp."
In a nutshell, yesterday was hard. My heart hurt. And the truth is, there's going to be tough days in the future. However, slowly and surely, I'm learning to dance with the limp.
Just like that, the tears come.
It's been almost a year since my Grandma left this Earth. Some days it hurts so bad I can hardly stand it.
My Grandma always kept bread ties. I never understood why but she did. She had a stash of them and by golly, she'd find a use for them. In the months since my Grandma's passing, I too have starting saving bread ties. For what I'm not sure but I can't seem to bring myself to throw them away. Maybe it's because of the smile that comes across my face every time I get into my silverware drawer and find them, a reminder of her and the memories we shared.
My Grandma was special. And I know, everyone probably argues that same point about their own grandparents but the relationship I had with my Grandmother is one that I will cherish forever. Yes, she could drive me crazy. Heaven forbid you had mismatched sheets on your bed. My Grandma thought in black and white while I enjoy exploring the grey areas, seeing what they have to teach me. But she was there for everything, all the big moments, but more importantly, all the small ones in between.
She was the creator of traditions - because of her we play bingo every Christmas Eve. She taught me to love being in the kitchen (even though to this day I am still a terrible cook). But hey, I'm learning. She was my biggest supporter. She believed in me. She believed that my writing was a talent and that it'd take me places.
And it was then, seeing that envelope, reading that message, that I realized it really is true what they say. Grief does come in stages. And no matter how hard you to try to prepare yourself for grief in any of it's forms, there's going to be times when you're not ready, when you can't take it. But there's also going to be times that you find joy in the memories, that you laugh instead of crying.
I came across a quote about grief: "You will lose someone you can't live without and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you will never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through. It's like a having a broken leg that never heals perfectly - that still hurts when the weather gets cold but you learn to dance with the limp."
In a nutshell, yesterday was hard. My heart hurt. And the truth is, there's going to be tough days in the future. However, slowly and surely, I'm learning to dance with the limp.
