What is The World's Story About? Thoughts about My Grandma's Life and Passing

                                                                Barbara Jane Millar
                                                     
                                                              ("Grandma Millar")

         "A child may ask. "What is the world's story about?" And a grown man or woman may wonder, "What way will the world go? How does it end, and while we're at it, what's the story about?"
          "I believe that there is one story in the world, and only one, that has frightened and inspired us so that we live in a Pearl White serial of continuing thought and wonder. Humans are caught- in their lives, in their thoughts, in their hungers and ambitions, in their avarice and cruelty, and in their kindness and generosity too- in a net of good and evil.I think this is the only story we have and that it occurs on all levels of feeling and intelligence. Virtue and vice were warp and woof of our first consciousness, and they will be the fabric of our last, and this despite any changes we may impose on field and river and mountain, on economy and manners. There is no other story. A man, after he has brushed off the dust and chips of his life, will have only the hard, clean questions : Was it good or was it evil? Have I done well-or ill?"

                                        John Steinbeck- East of Eden

               No one can really say it better than Steinbeck. I guess when someone dies, I always find myself thinking about life and those hard, clean questions. What is the point? Why are we here? Are we making a difference? Is it for good?
              My Grandma wasn't just someone who died, she was my Grandma. I didn't know everything about her, but her hard questions, I think can be answered easily, though they really aren't for me to answer. I remember her mostly as a storyteller. She loved to sit around and talk about people, usually people I didn't know, but they were her people. I think she loved people more than I ever knew. I also think she touched more lives than I will ever know. She had her master's in education... I guess you could say little people were her specialty.
             But to me, the best thing that she gave this world, was my mom. And because of that. I know my Grandma must have been brilliant. My mom is anything, but ordinary, and some of that must have come from my Grandma.  She is kind and ambitious. She does the impossible ten times over. She is humble and generous, a tower of strength and a refuge whenever I need her.  She is the queen of resourcefulness (never buy anything, she tells me, I might have it already, or if not, I can probably make it)! My mom can make anything... out of nothing! I've always thought she could have chosen any profession and succeeded, but she chose the most humble, and in many ways the most important- just like her mom- a teacher! Where would we be without teachers? However, my mom isn't a regular teacher, and I have to assume that my Grandma wasn't either. The impact left of students will never leave, and in that way, somewhere out in the world my Grandma is still with us through the changes she left on the lives of others.
           My Grandma was many things, some of which I am still learning and hearing new stories! I think she would have liked getting to know her grand kids more. We got to see her on a "good" day a few weeks before she passed. She was in the hospital for a UTI, and I just had this feeling that we needed to stop by with some flowers. The boys helped me pick some out (cheerful purple gerbera daisies) and we were able to deliver them to her room. She was awake and in a happy mood when we came in. She didn't know who we were, but was still glad for the company. I sat with her and helped her eat her lunch. She told me funny stories that must have been about her own kids. I think she was remembering or thinking it was back then, instead of the present time.  She was talking about behavior issues and how important it is to keep those kids in line! She made me laugh several times during that visit, and she shared a smile with me too. I got to tell her that I loved her, and I will never forget that day.
          What is the world's story about? I think it is about moments like that one with my Grandma. That last light in her eyes, a smile of innocence and genuineness, and good, moments filled with so much good and love.
           I am going to end my thoughts about Grandma, with the following quote. We forget the simplicity of life and it's purpose sometimes, and I think this is fitting:

          "Child, though I am meant to teach you much,
           what is it, in the end,
            except that together we are
           meant to be children
           of the same Father,
           and I must unlearn
           all the adult structure
           and the cumbering years
           and you must teach me
           to look at the earth and the heaven
           with your fresh wonder."
                                          -Jane Tyson Clement

I wish I had the right words to say about her. I wish I could be more of a comfort to my mom, who I know is missing her so much. All I know, is that now she finally has peace and rest. You are loved, Grandma.

When Neurons Collide

Do you ever wonder what your mind looks like from the inside? I don't mean the physiological parts of the brain, but if you could walk around inside your thoughts, what would they look like? I imagine my mind like a wide open space with clear blue skies and lots of plush green grass for running and never getting winded. Lately though I feel my thoughts are feathers blowing around in the wind open space and I can't quite catch them when I want to. These feathers keep me up when I should be sleeping; sometimes they lead me on a bunny trail from one incomplete thought to the next. I forget what I was about to do, or I experience that "I know I was on to something... but what was it?" kind of thought. Could it be the "pregnancy brain mushiness," or am I just wound too tightly?


I've always liked daydreaming... getting lost in that open space where anything can happen. I guess sometimes it's a way of not facing reality, escaping the things we don't want to deal with and replacing them with something more pleasant. Reading fiction is kind of like that too. I love getting lost in a book, temporarily not being the "responsible" adult I am suppose to be, and following someone else's journey through love or heroism.

Lots has happened this week, so I'll do a little summing up.

This week's "notables:"

Parenting is a lot more trial and error than I ever expected. Although, I had my own personal breakthrough with Elijah I think, yesterday. He doesn't respond to a lot of traditional shall we say, punishments. Sometimes he reminds me of a little adult. So I have found the easiest way to handle his misbehaviors is with natural consequences, and a calm understanding voice. I will admit to yelling, which gets everyone nowhere. So, yesterday Elijah decided to write on the bathroom wall with a pen. I didn't notice it right away, but when I did... I calmly asked him if he had written on the wall, he admitted it. Amazingly I didn't over-react, but told him he would clean it up. Guess what, he did with no problems! (note: mix baking soda with a little water to make a paste and scrub with an old toothbrush... I have found this to be the best method... and yes this is not his first offense).

Owen is turning three next Saturday! I can't believe he's not my baby anymore. We're planning a circus themed party for him... it will be lots of fun! He's so excited, anytime we talk about it being his birthday soon, he has to say, "My Circus Birthday!"

I hate for this to be a "notable," but I also can't go on without mentioning my Grandpa's passing last Sunday. It still doesn't seem real, and I'm not sure how I am suppose to feel about it. No one can really prepare you for this kind of thing. It is hardest seeing the pain my mom is going through and not being able to make her feel better. She has always been the "rock" of the family, the reliable, responsible and I hate that she has to deal with all the arrangements as she is mourning. A few things about my Grandpa...

He loved strawberry ice cream. He knew how to cook anything in the microwave. He was an amazing craftsman. He used to make intricate Christmas ornaments for us shaped like 3-D octagons. He also perfected many woodwork projects, my mom has some of the bookshelves that he made in her house, that are beautifully carved and built. He kept his "temple" healthy, going for walks every day and surprising lifting weights! He always cared about our health too, and our interests. When I wanted to take a correspondence course for writing Children's literature, he helped me pay for it. He also helped Martin and I purchase the house we now live in. The bank required our debt to income ratio to be lower than it was, meaning we had to pay off one of Martin's student loans. Yikes... Grandpa came through and covered what we couldn't. He always made sure the people he loved were taken care of. What surprised me most about him was he way he took care of my Grandma all of these years even though they have been divorced since my mom was thirteen. There are so many things I appreciate about him, and he will be missed.

Death sometimes makes us think of the way we should be living. I know one of the best things I can do is show gratitude in every way. It is a small thing that has a great power. For we are not simply flesh and bones, nerves, and neurons, but we are souls that need nourished. When I think about others as souls around me, it changes my heart and my perspective. I know that I am blessed beyond what I deserve and showing gratitude to others is a small way to bless their soul and to transform mine a little more each day. If I started my list of gratitude here, it would reach to the moon, but I do plan to tell some people how much they mean to me. It's important to say things out loud even when it feels awkward and corny.

I am probably most thankful for my loving hubby. He helps in so many ways. Especially now, when I am such a mess... I cry at least once a day because of the pregnancy hormones, and he just holds me and tells me it's going to be all right. We've worked out some teamwork with the housework too, so I don't feel so overwhelmed. He unloads the dishwasher before he goes to work most mornings, and I load it up during the day and run it every night. He tries to help with whatever else I need too. He is so wonderful, and I know God sent him to me! Thanks honey for putting up with me!

Tink's Last Day

Animals have a way of knowing when death is coming. They prepare in their own way for the end of their life. It is so unlike human nature. We fret and fight it with everything we have, denying and holding on. From what I have seen, the animals have it right. They usually go off on their own, away from everything to spend their last days in peace. What a way to go. If I knew it was coming, I’d like to spend my last days in peace, not fighting to stay here longer unnaturally. But that is a different conversation.

For some time now our cat, Tinkerbelle, has been getting sicker. Two weeks ago when we came back from a weekend trip to Seattle, she was looking very fragile indeed. Her appetite decreased so much that she barely ate anything at all. It was obvious she had lost a considerable amount of weight. It was shocking to see the numbers on the scale, though. She used to be a fat lazy cat weighing in at a healthy twelve pounds. Now she was diminished down to a mere seven and a half pounds (smaller than both of my boys birth weights)!
We finally took her to the Vet a few days ago. I was prepared to hear that she needed a new special diet, or maybe a vitamin for cats that would revive her. No, none of that would be needed. We were facing her last days. The Vet told us she had lymphoma in her stomach - which made it nearly impossible to eat. I wasn’t ready for this. Holding back tears, I didn’t want to accept it. Surely she couldn’t be dying… but then again all of the signs were there. She looked more haggard than I had ever seen her, and her escapes outside had been more frequent as well. We were all going to have to say good byes to our sweet Tinkerbelle… forever.
Nearly five years ago, Martin and I were still newlyweds living in Nebraska when we adopted Tinkerbelle from the “Cat Sanctuary.” She was our “baby” then. We brushed her nearly every day, I even gave her baths from time to time, and she greeted us much like a puppy went we came through the front door. She’s lived in every place that we have… there in our very first apartment, at my parents home when we moved in with them (both times), in our second apartment in Coeur d’Alene where we first brought Elijah home to, also in the house that we bought Owen home to (which was not our own- we were house-sitting rent free), and finally the house that has become her last home, the house that God blessed us with last spring.
I can’t help feeling that we are losing part of our family. I know how silly that sounds… she’s an animal right? They only live so long. I know, but she has given us so much. She’s tolerated two rambunctious boys poking, and prodding, and petting too enthusiastically. But more than that, she’s been a true companion. After the boys are in bed each night she finds her spot on the couch with me, or if I’m in bed reading, she is there too. In fact, whenever I am alone, she finds her way to me, as if to say, “I’m here for you, you are not alone.” She has been such a comfort to me especially in times of loneliness. That’s really the reason Martin agreed to get her five years ago. He had one more year of college to finish which meant cross-country and track meets on the weekends and LOTS of studying and school work in between. Tinkerbelle kept me company while he was away. She was something else I could love, and in return she loved me so unconditionally.
Today is her last day. It seems so strange to set a time to it. We considered letting her go in the wild somewhere, but it would be more pain and struggle for her that way, since she has no claws and can’t eat anything. So the date and time is set. Tonight at five-thirty we’ll drive to the Vet to say our last goodbyes.
We are truly going to miss you Tink! You have been a sweet part of our family.

Note: Did you know cats are the only animals that smile with their eyes?
I'm going to miss Tink's beautiful green eyes slanting into that happy "smile."