all things Sam

So this past Saturday, May 4, marked Sam's eighth birthday!  And it seems as though this week as pretty much been all things Sam!  In our church, eight years old is usually when a child gets baptized and boys start Cub Scouts so this is a BIG birthday for my little guy.
On Friday night we celebrated his birthday with his grandparents.  Both Grandpa and Grandma Eber and Papaw and Mamaw May came for a dinner of Sam's favorites: kielbasa, french fries and applesauce, followed by brownies with strawberries and cool whip :)

On Saturday (his actual birthday) he had a party with friends at the Vandalia Rec Center.  They got to swim for 2 hours and then had pizza and cake in the party room.  Of course, with 10 eight yr old boys anything can happen and sure enough, as the boys were getting out of the pool one of the boys fell and hit his head.  It is the VRC's policy to call the squad on all head injuries so poor Jason had to meet with paramedics before he was cleared.  As his mom got there and said they would leave, he asked if they could stay for pizza.  So they did.  Sammy had a great time and even Kalen threw a fit when it was time to get out of the pool.  I made his cake (Angry Birds Star Wars).

 And of course, after all the craziness of the weekend, tonight he started Cub Scouts.  He was so excited to go.  For his first night, they learned about planting and seeds.  He brought home a small pot filled with three kinds of herbs and sunflower seeds.  He was so happy.  As I put him in bed, I said "I'm glad you had fun buddy."  He replied "oh yeah Mom!  It was great.  You should try to join Girl Scouts!"

At eight years old, Sam is in the second grade.  He still wants to be a scientist when he grows up so he can "make potions".  He still does swimming and said that when he is an adult, he will teach me how to swim (b/c I really don't know how).  He loves to sing and wants to take drum lessons.  He grew 2 and 3/4 inches since last year.  He jumped from a size 7 in August to a size 10 in February!  He is a great big brother.  He has discovered the reading bug and does great with that. 
I love him sooooo much.  I can't get over how my 10 pound baby is now a growing boy.

you don't get to quit living

I was talking to my mom about something today and she said something about owls.  My grandma passes away in 2002 but she collected owls...a lot of owls!  Nowadays, Owls are a trendy thing.  You can buy bags, sheets, stuffed animals, and jewelry all with owls.  It's kinda become a zany love of mine to buy a few things with owls simply b/c they remind me of Grandma.  With my Grandpa (from the other side of the family) passing away only a few weeks ago, I've really thought of my grandparents often.  So while driving home today I began to tear up at the thought of my grandparents.  How much I miss them, how they aged as I aged (they aren't supposed to do that), and how my kids are growing as well.
The week after Grandpa passed I was talking to a mom whose son is in Izzy's class.  She said that her grandmother's funeral was the same day as A.J's first day of school.  She said that she went to the viewing in the morning but she missed her grandmother's funeral b/c she didn't want to miss his first day of kindergarten.  As I thought about this today, the thought popped into my head: "we don't get to quit living when a loved one dies."  It really hit me hard in a surprising way.  It's true.  We continue to love them and miss them and remember them but we don't get to quit living.  They wouldn't want us to.  My grandparents are in a good place and they are watching my children, their great-grandchildren, grow and live and that gives them joy.  And it should give me joy as well. 
I love my Grandma and Grandpa Snapp and my Grandpa May and though they are not on this earth any longer, they do not want me to stop living or to stop enjoying watching my children living.  I need to keep this in perspective.  I need to find the joy in the journey while I keep the memories in my heart.

quotes from my children

while looking through pictures, Kalen found one of Jesus...
Mommy: "who is that?"
Kalen: "Jesus....I like him!" 
I love my kid!

While out to dinner for my dad's retirement, Sammy was very upset that we had to wait for the food to come.  He looks at my sister aka Aunt Becky and says "if I die of starvation, tell my mom and dad that I love them!"
Oh, we're not dramatic at all!

what can you do about that?

I am a worrier.  Sometimes I worry that I worry too much.  I am a thinker.  I worry that I think too much and I think that I worry too much.
Over the last week, I've thought and I've worried a lot.  I've thought about silly things, serious things, things beyond my control, things within my control, and things that are out of control.  I've thought about my grandpa, my childhood, my present life, my blessings, my regrets, my wishes, my family (parents and sibs), my family (hubs and kids), my extended family, my in-law family, my church family and my friends.  I even told Kurtis, on the way home from Grandpa's viewing, about a few ideas I had for my own funeral.  I'm pretty sure he thought I was grief-stricken and had lost my mind.  Maybe I have.
Floyd, our beloved pet beagle had cancer in his toe last year.  We had to have his toe removed in Jan. 2012.  In December 2012, we noticed he'd been limping seriously and took him to the vet.  We discovered a lump underneath his front leg.  The vet did two x-rays and could not confirm it was cancer but all the pain meds and antibiotics that we've given him are not helping.  To determine if the mass is cancer, we need to take him to a Vet Surgeon at OSU Vet Hospital, where just a consultation can cost up to $2000.  We decided against that.  We've been trying other methods for four months now.  Kurtis and I agreed two weeks ago that we would try this last ditch medicine and if it didn't work, we'd have him put to sleep.  The medicine ended on Thursday and with everything going on with Grandpa, we thought we might wait to do anything about Floyd.   But yesterday I told Kurtis "the grief will come whether we have Floyd euthanized next week or in two months.  The grief will come and I'll have to face it.  The difference is that in the meantime, this dog that I love is hobbling around in pain, growling at the kids when he is uncomfortable and just being unhappy b/c I want to wait a little longer.  I want to see if it will magically go away and the dog is hurt.  How can I live with that?"  So I called today.  I made the appointment and within a week of time, I will say goodbye to my grandpa and a pet that I call "my first child".  I'm sad, I hurt, I think too much, I worry what people will think.  I feel guilt and I question my frame of mind.  I feel bad for being a "downer" to my friends.  I feel like I should jump around and smile b/c that's what I should do.  No one wants to be around a weepy, whiney, frowny face.  I keep saying that I'm at peace and then I cry about the trials I'm facing.  But here's the deal:
I am at peace that Grandpa has gone to a happier place.  He is with his parents and two of his siblings.  He is out of a broken body that did not allow him to enjoy his life.  I will see him again and embrace him and hear him call me "his babydoll" again.
I am sad that I have no more visits with him now.  I do not get to take my children to his house and watch him smile at my babies.  I cry to think that I will have experiences, life-changing experiences, here on earth that he will physically not be a part of.
I am peace knowing that I've loved this creature that I call my pet for almost a decade.  I know that I've been a great owner and kind of a mom to Floyd. He's enjoyed cuddles and walks and some "people food" b/c he's been so loved.
I am sad that I can't have his furry behind following me around the house for forever.  I will miss having him put his front paws up on my side of the bed when I sleep in and look at me as if to say "are you getting up or what?"  I feel bad that I've actually had to make the decision of "live or die" for this dog, this friend, this member of our family.
I'm not going to worry.  I'm not going to think.  I'm not going to feel guilty.  I'm not going to put on a happy face.  I'm going to tell you how I feel. 
I feel at peace.  I feel lost.  I feel sad.  I feel overwhelmed.  I feel blessed.  I feel strengthened.  I feel loved.  I feel helpless.  I feel definitive.  I feel certain.  I feel a little angry.
Maybe this is for my own benefit.  Perhaps one day I'll read back at this and say  "I'm crazy" or "I really needed some sleep".  But for today, I feel like I'm getting it.  I keep going and tomorrow will be better.  It has been a tough week.  Next week will be tough too.  But I will "keep singing" b/c really, that's what I do best.

a rare Kalen moment

Well, I've been sick for a week now with major congestion, sinus headaches, laryngitis, and persistent cough.  On top of that has been Grandpa's passing and the upcoming passing of our beagle, Floyd.  To say I'm in a funk is an understatement.  I've had crying fits, fits of rage, moments of sheer exhaustion and I'm not pretty during any of it....at all.  Kurtis took today off of work b/c I've just been a mess and he was worried about me.  As we playing with Zeke and Kalen, Kal stops what he is doing.  He comes over and kisses Zeke, then kisses me, then kisses Kurtis.  He does it a second time.  Then he sits down, holds my hand and says "you are my friends".  It was such a tender moment that I desperately needed.  The house is a mess, the laundry needs folded, tomorrow I go to the viewing of my Grandpa and I had a 30 second reprieve from all the stress when I saw my 3 year old reach out and love me.  This is so uncommon with Kalen and I'm so thankful for the timing of it.  I'm so glad that Kalen's my friend!

oh, the innocence

While telling Sam today that Grandpa did in fact pass away, I thought he would take it hard.  He looked at me and said "it's okay Mom.  Everyone dies and you'll die before me."  He proceeded to kiss me on the cheek and walk away.  I suppose I can find comfort in that somewhere.

"God be with you till we meet again"

John Hubert May Sr. aka Grandpa May passed away this morning around 3:30am.  He was holding my dad's hand and my Grandma (Greta the 1st) was sitting next to him.  Grandpa would have been 88 yrs old on June 13 of this year.  He is survived by his wife of 67 yrs, Greta Loree Rowland May, four sons (John Jr, Jim, Joe and Mark), eight grandchildren, twelve great-grandchildren and two sisters.
In his life, Grandpa worked as a shoe salesman, a janitor, a truck driver, a preacher and a greeter at WalMart.  He served in the U.S. Navy during World War II and the Korean War as a medical corpman.  He also served in the Navy Reserves during the Vietnam War.  He never talked about the war....ever.  It was very hard for him.  He was a MASTER at Skeeball at the arcade, a fact that my sister and I never got over!  He loved fishing and was an avid gardener.  He used to take us to Canada as kids to go fishing.  He taught me to sing when I was two years old.  He would take me out to the garage, sit me on the bench, and teach me hymns from the hymnal.  My mother says I had entire hymns memorized before I could say sentences!  He had a beautiful tenor voice and sang in men's quartets most of his life.  He and my dad sang with me when I was 10 yrs old in front of our church congregation.  It was the first time I ever sang in front of an audience.  We sang "It Is Well With My Soul".
When I was two yrs old, we lived with my grandparents.  Every day when my dad would come from work, he would holler "Hey dad!" to my grandpa.  I thought that was his name and spent the early years of childhood referring to him as Hey Dad.  He signed my high school graduation card as Hey Dad!
He always, always called me Babydoll.  When last I saw him in January, he still referred to me as Babydoll.  He always told me that there was a teddy bear living in his belly and he had to eat to keep him happy :)  He loved fried potatoes and refused to sit down for dinner if there was not bread and butter on the table.  He made the absolute best spagetti sauce EVER!  He played a mean game of Rook and Rummy. 
He had four sons but seven granddaughters and only one grandson.  He was happy with that; he adored his girls.  In his youth, it is rumored that he could jump in the air and kick his heels three times in a row before landing.  Tara and I used to tease him for having "sexy knees"...often b/c he would be down on his knees in the garden and they were covered in dirt.
His favorite song that I used to sing was called The Lighthouse and it was also a favorite of mine.  He argued with my mom over a picture of me when I was four yrs old.  When I was twenty, I finally had a replica of the picture made for him and he hung it in his bedroom.
As a child, I thought Grandpa could do no wrong.  As I grew older, I realized that we are innocent as kids.  As an adult, my grandparents went through a period where they disowned me b/c of a choice I made.  I spent the next few yrs repairing our relationship and I'm proud of the fact that when Grandpa last saw my family (Kurtis, the kids and I), we had a pleasant visit.  Grandpa lived long enough to meet all of my children and loved them.  I had a good visit with him last.  As I left, I kissed him and told him I loved him.  I have no regrets and nothing but happy thoughts of our time together.  I am at peace with his passing and know that he is probably working on a garden in Heaven at this exact moment.  I hear the Mormon Tabernacle Choir in my head: "God be with you till we meet again" Grandpa!  I love you.

Grandpa, Kurtis and Zeke

Grandpa as a sailor

Grandpa, Me and Tara

Hey Dad and me (Sept 1980)

in his garden

Grandpa knees :)

college graduation May 2001

Summer of 1979, May family in Canada (I'm in Mom's belly)