I just spent the last week holding my college roommate's baby. She has waited so long for the right man to come along and has moved in with him, married him and had a baby all within 18 months! Her husband reminds me of Paul in so many ways. Good and bad, lol. When we talk about our relationships we have plenty of common ground, let's just say that! Now she's had a baby. I'm so happy for her. She'd been so good about coming out to WA to visit when I just had too many little kids to make the trip to Chicago despite dozens of promises to do so. She'd finally realize it wasn't going to happen unless she came out. We'd go wine tasting, to visit the San Juans, etc. Nice long, girl's weekends that would remind me who I was besides just a wife and mother. She adored my funny kids, held my babies. I remember being on one weekend in the San Juans and we were in the B&B hot tub drinking wine and looking at the stars and talking about life in general and I said something about "when you have kids" she stopped me and said something profound, "do you realize you are the only one who says 'when' you have kids to me instead of 'if'"? I could tell it meant a lot to her that I was holding on to the dream for her.
My friend is one of those that is so weaved into your life you can't imagine a time before knowing her. You may not talk daily or even go months without talking, but when you do the connection is instant and you just pickup where you left off. You know that no matter what the connection will be there, even though you live thousands of miles away. As our lives have woven we've sometimes seen each other several times in a year (this year) or not in person for several years, especially because our "stages" of life have not been in sync. Our paths have woven different ways and it's a joy in the moments when they weave close enough for a visit and we are able to come together, and we are both patient in the times when they are further away.
Because of this weaving back and forth I was a little (not totally!) surprised when she asked me to be the matron of honor at her wedding (she was at mine-now I'm wondering how surprised she was when I asked her-I've never asked!) I've been back to Chicago now, where I went to school for 2 years, 4 times in the last year-her bridal shower/help her move in with her husband last summer when I came for a few days, then P and the kids joined (we went to dinner, but the kids were so tired they slept through the meal), her wedding that I attended with P and now to visit her baby.
Visiting a new baby. Is there anything sweeter? She'd been texting the typical new mom stuff, "he's crying! I'm crying! I can't set him down! I'm losing my mind!" I went back into the recesses of my mind to offer assurances that all this was normal and would not last forever. Frankly I went through it so long ago (about 5-6 years!) that I barely remembered it and had to look up some stuff like growth spurts and breastfeeding tips online. I knew, now being on the other side, that things will work out but I also remember the desperate exhaustion, the emotional roller coaster, etc.
I came to meet him. He was fussy (by day 4 I finally remembered having a few months when my own babies lived in a front pack) but not colicky and, typical baby, wanted to eat all the time, be held, and was still figuring out what made him happy (he'd not quite figured it all out yet, explaining the crying). Oh, but he smelled that sweet milky baby smell and sighed those sweet baby sighs of peaceful sleeping on an adult and had those tiny hands, feet and small facial features that make a woman's ovaries cry out in ecstasy. I adored the days of cuddling and she was very happy having someone home with her, someone to try different ways to stop him from crying, being able to take a shower, nap, interview nannies, etc. It was a very good visit of mutual appreciation. I appreciated the days of snuggling a baby I thought were gone (my "baby" will be 7 and I don't have any other friends sowing their seeds at the moment) and she appreciated someone who had lived through this completely overwhelming stage of life and lived to tell the tale.
Another friend texted while I was there asking if my ovaries were in fact screaming and I can honestly say they were not. For many years after having my last baby, they did ache when handing back a new baby but I've come to terms with our being done with that stage. I always say if the universe handed me a baby I'd gladly take it, but I'm done seeking it. My body is done having babies and I'm enjoying the people that my kids are becoming. I always thought 4 kids would be a lot and have found 3 children (2 of them high energy!) is what my sanity can handle and I feel busy when all 3 are home. I like that I can enjoy all of them without the distraction of the immense amount of time and energy a baby takes. I am sleeping as much through the night as an almost 40 year old can and when I'm not tired, I have patience and enjoy them. There's a kind of maturity I've found at the stage in life I'm at (school aged children-the oldest almost junior high age) that's peaceful. The weekend reminded me of this. However, I did find I was able to have patience with a baby that I didn't have when I was in that stage, and even with a crying baby on the other side of the wall from my guest room 3 times a night, the last two nights I was there, I slept more soundly than I had in a few months.
We cried upon parting because it was such a good visit. She joked that I may have to stay until she hired a nanny, but I know she's got this. She's got a good partner, she's a wonderful mom (she just may not fully realize it yet, but I hope when she gets to the stage I'm at, she will!) I'm so glad I went. It gave me a peace I've not felt in awhile (I go through stages where I feel "unsettled" for weeks at a time and I'd had one before leaving). I'm glad P talked me into taking a plane ticket for Mother's Day. It turned out to be the perfect gift.
Sunday, May 21, 2017
The Dream
I just returned from several days visiting a friend and her new baby. I will write a post about it, but something just happened so jarring that I need to write about it instead. I've just been waken up by the second dream I've had about my late grandfather. For the second time I've awakened in suffocating, jagging sobs that shock and startle my poor, sleeping husband.
Grandpa was a quiet, reliable, calm figure in my childhood. My saw my grandparents, my father's parents usually at least once a month. They lived in a good sized house with backyard in NE Tacoma, WA. They'd bought the land and built the house 50 years prior when the land was just being developed for houses. A school ended up across the street and they ended up adding on to the house when more children filled it than seemed comfortable. Grandpa had a large garage with every tool imaginable and could usually be found out there making something useful for Grandma or a toy or gift for one of us many kids and grandkids. Grandpa worked for an airline and grandma stayed at home. They had 5 children including my dad as well as a huge amount of foster kids over the year (If I'm remembering correctly it was over 40). Grandpa was a quiet man who loved children and had a sly sense of humor you'd miss unless you were paying attention. Grandma has always been the talker in the relationship. Shortly after we moved to Canada, Grandpa had a hard fall and things looked so bad I was urged to come home and see him. I bought a next day ticket and spent a week with him. He'd had a brain bleed and wasn't speaking but seemed happy to see me. During the week hospice was called in and the family had a meeting with him sitting among us. The next day he started to speak, slowly and garbled, but he seemed a bit ticked off we'd called hospice on him. He lived another two years just to show us he could.
I'd told Grandma while I was visiting that the trip was my good bye to him and if there was a funeral, I wouldn't be back for it (I didn't know at the time he'd live another 2 years!) She told me they had so many friends and family it would be alright. We both agreed it was better for me to visit grandpa while he was alive. Grandpa recovered enough from the incident that I, P and the kids were able to visit with him a few times more and he'd be happy we'd come but not really say much. Then, while my mom was visiting in January after a Christmas we were in Canada, we got word that Grandpa had passed away. Since my mom had just been out I decided not to attend the funeral. I'd always assumed I'd go. I thought it would be great to hear stories about Grandpa I may not had heard, but I had already said my goodbye and I talked to my Grandma stating as much and saying if she needed me there that I would go. We agreed again that she would have plenty of support and I could stay home. (She did, the church was packed). I didn't cry. I was sad, but I actually took it fairly well. It's not like it was sudden. His health had been declining over the previous 2 years and I'd said my goodbyes and made peace with it. I thought. The U of WA has his body for Parkinson's research and should give it back for cremation sometime in the next 3 years. Hopefully that will coincide with a trip we can join to spread his ashes at Paradise on Mount Rainier.
Now, though, I've been awakened by a 2nd dream of Grandpa. 2 in the last 18 months. It's been awhile since the first one. I dreamt about him so vividly that first time. I was shocked at how real the dream seemed and shocked at my reaction of crying so violently upon waking up. It stuck with me for a few days.
This morning there was more of a dream context. I'd driven down to visit grandma very early in the morning before work to deliver a birthday present. I was surprised to see her as well as my parents and an uncle from my mom's side of the family that has been helping to care for my other grandparents (my grandparents had a bit of a health scare over the last month, so I've had them on my mind a lot). I slid the gift over the counter to keep the surprise. I was chatting with them and suddenly noticed Grandpa sitting with us. He was very small, like the size of my daughter, quiet, but sitting next to grandma. Everyone went away but Grandpa and I gathered him up in my arms and held him like the baby I'd been holding over the last week. He was the size of a child, but very light. I walked him over to where Grandma was getting dialysis (ok, I'd fallen asleep after watching John Oliver's show about dialysis eating more caramel M&Ms than I should have and a bottle of cider-probably not the most conducive way to fall into a deep, restful sleep). I think she mentioned something casually about me holding him. She didn't seem surprised and mentioned he'd shown up about a week ago. Didn't say anything to her, but was very comforting and stayed with her. I was shocked she'd not said anything and was asking her, "tell me what you know about this? He's here?" etc. I kept asking her questions and she was silent. I realized she'd died talking to me and then Grandpa was also gone. He'd come to get her. I woke up sobbing. I don't think it was because Grandma had died, I think it was so vivid and lovely to see him and get to hold him and so sweet of him to come for her so she wouldn't be scared. Their love was always like that and it seemed like a very plausible thing for him to do. I woke up the same way I'd waken up from the first dream, with such a longing to see him it hurt.
I probably had the dream because I'd talked to Grandma the day before and my other grandparents the day of and had spent the week holding a sleepy baby of a friend who knows me well and my Grandparents. I just never seem prepared for it.
Grandpa was a quiet, reliable, calm figure in my childhood. My saw my grandparents, my father's parents usually at least once a month. They lived in a good sized house with backyard in NE Tacoma, WA. They'd bought the land and built the house 50 years prior when the land was just being developed for houses. A school ended up across the street and they ended up adding on to the house when more children filled it than seemed comfortable. Grandpa had a large garage with every tool imaginable and could usually be found out there making something useful for Grandma or a toy or gift for one of us many kids and grandkids. Grandpa worked for an airline and grandma stayed at home. They had 5 children including my dad as well as a huge amount of foster kids over the year (If I'm remembering correctly it was over 40). Grandpa was a quiet man who loved children and had a sly sense of humor you'd miss unless you were paying attention. Grandma has always been the talker in the relationship. Shortly after we moved to Canada, Grandpa had a hard fall and things looked so bad I was urged to come home and see him. I bought a next day ticket and spent a week with him. He'd had a brain bleed and wasn't speaking but seemed happy to see me. During the week hospice was called in and the family had a meeting with him sitting among us. The next day he started to speak, slowly and garbled, but he seemed a bit ticked off we'd called hospice on him. He lived another two years just to show us he could.
I'd told Grandma while I was visiting that the trip was my good bye to him and if there was a funeral, I wouldn't be back for it (I didn't know at the time he'd live another 2 years!) She told me they had so many friends and family it would be alright. We both agreed it was better for me to visit grandpa while he was alive. Grandpa recovered enough from the incident that I, P and the kids were able to visit with him a few times more and he'd be happy we'd come but not really say much. Then, while my mom was visiting in January after a Christmas we were in Canada, we got word that Grandpa had passed away. Since my mom had just been out I decided not to attend the funeral. I'd always assumed I'd go. I thought it would be great to hear stories about Grandpa I may not had heard, but I had already said my goodbye and I talked to my Grandma stating as much and saying if she needed me there that I would go. We agreed again that she would have plenty of support and I could stay home. (She did, the church was packed). I didn't cry. I was sad, but I actually took it fairly well. It's not like it was sudden. His health had been declining over the previous 2 years and I'd said my goodbyes and made peace with it. I thought. The U of WA has his body for Parkinson's research and should give it back for cremation sometime in the next 3 years. Hopefully that will coincide with a trip we can join to spread his ashes at Paradise on Mount Rainier.
Now, though, I've been awakened by a 2nd dream of Grandpa. 2 in the last 18 months. It's been awhile since the first one. I dreamt about him so vividly that first time. I was shocked at how real the dream seemed and shocked at my reaction of crying so violently upon waking up. It stuck with me for a few days.
This morning there was more of a dream context. I'd driven down to visit grandma very early in the morning before work to deliver a birthday present. I was surprised to see her as well as my parents and an uncle from my mom's side of the family that has been helping to care for my other grandparents (my grandparents had a bit of a health scare over the last month, so I've had them on my mind a lot). I slid the gift over the counter to keep the surprise. I was chatting with them and suddenly noticed Grandpa sitting with us. He was very small, like the size of my daughter, quiet, but sitting next to grandma. Everyone went away but Grandpa and I gathered him up in my arms and held him like the baby I'd been holding over the last week. He was the size of a child, but very light. I walked him over to where Grandma was getting dialysis (ok, I'd fallen asleep after watching John Oliver's show about dialysis eating more caramel M&Ms than I should have and a bottle of cider-probably not the most conducive way to fall into a deep, restful sleep). I think she mentioned something casually about me holding him. She didn't seem surprised and mentioned he'd shown up about a week ago. Didn't say anything to her, but was very comforting and stayed with her. I was shocked she'd not said anything and was asking her, "tell me what you know about this? He's here?" etc. I kept asking her questions and she was silent. I realized she'd died talking to me and then Grandpa was also gone. He'd come to get her. I woke up sobbing. I don't think it was because Grandma had died, I think it was so vivid and lovely to see him and get to hold him and so sweet of him to come for her so she wouldn't be scared. Their love was always like that and it seemed like a very plausible thing for him to do. I woke up the same way I'd waken up from the first dream, with such a longing to see him it hurt.
I probably had the dream because I'd talked to Grandma the day before and my other grandparents the day of and had spent the week holding a sleepy baby of a friend who knows me well and my Grandparents. I just never seem prepared for it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)