Behind The Lens

I am always the one taking the pictures in our family these days. My dad takes a lot, but somehow I end up seeing much of what goes on from behind the lens of my camera. I don't take great photos, and sometimes I take really awful ones. But I take them because I love to, I love the excitement of getting one really good one, and I love to share them.

I used to love being in front of the camera, and shamefully admit to taking entirely too many self-portraits back before I was married and had a son. But these days I always have a reason not to be in the photo. My hair looks bad, or I don't have makeup on, or my face looks fat. Lee keeps telling me that someday I will have to explain to Finn that I was actually part of all his memories, because I refuse to be a part of the photographic documentation of it all. I am working on it.

But over Thanksgiving Cris took a few pictures, and one of them came out so cute that I had to share. The other? Well, proof for all that I am part of the family functions.

We are starting to get ready for Christmas around here, slowly but surely. He loves Christmas trees ('chistfas tees') and Santa Claus and snowmen. But he isn't as sure about a reindeer. Or, rather, being turned into a reindeer.

Hit and Run

I was trying to be good on Monday and headed out to the gym that night. I have to be honest, I wasn't looking forward to the class, I took last week off and while I knew that it would be good for me my couch and the tv seemed like a much better option.

I was a mere 2 blocks from my house, still in my neighborhood, waiting to turn left at the light behind a car. When the light changed the woman turned, and promptly got hit dead on by an idiot who ran the red light.

I jumped out of my car, I ran to the woman who got hit and made sure she was okay. She was shaken up, but okay. She asked me to call the police, and as I was doing so I watched the guy who hit her back up, drive through the intersection, stop his car, rip off his dangling bumper, and drive off. He.Drove.Off.

I was furious, and fortunately about 5 different people got his license plate number. I was on the phone with the (quite rude, by the way) 911 operator and filled her in. And then we waited for the police to show up. And waited. And waited some more.

The woman was so kind, and kept saying I didn't need to stay. But I did need to. I needed to make sure she was okay, that the police got the right answers, since I clearly saw more of what happened than she did. And all I could think is that if this was my mom, or me, or anyone I love, that I would hope someone would stay with us.

And then my phone rang. I realized we only waited about 20 minutes, but it felt like hours. When I answered I knew it was the police, but I certainly didn't expect to hear him say they had the driver in custody. But they did, and we had to go identify his car and give our stories, again.

We found out he was driving without a license. His car had been impounded the week before. He lied to the officer and told him the bumper fell off weeks ago. When I told the officer that he ripped the bumper off and threw it in the street he said "Great! I will get him for littering too!". It was kind of exciting, but only because it ended in a good way. She was okay. He was arrested. The cops did their job, and did it swiftly.

She was nervous about driving home, so I followed her home, to make sure her car didn't break down on the way. I realized that she was pretty trusting to allow me to follow her home, but I think she knew I was okay. We exchanged numbers. I don't know if I will ever see her again but I am happy that in my little way I was able to make a crappy experience a little bit easier.

Let it be known that I will wait a few seconds more every time I am sitting at that light now.

I never made it to the gym Monday night. But I think my body will forgive me.

What Is It About The Leaves?

Seriously. Is it only my family who has children who could play in leaves for hours? Every single time we are outside the leaves become a haven for playing, and while I am not complaining I think it is funny that we could have all the toys in the world outside but give a kid a pile of leaves and that is all they need.

And this is apparently what my blog has turned into. A day to day detailing of our leaves.

Thank God Christmas is around the corner, right?

Maybe we'll just give Finn a big bag of leaves wrapped in a bow.

Giving Thanks

There is so much in my life to be thankful for, and I feel like I would be jinxing it all if I put it in writing. But suffice it to say that this Thanksgiving has made me reflect and realize that I am forever grateful for all these things in my life.

And of course who wouldn't be thankful when you have this smiling at you the whole of every day?

I hope everyone enjoyed their turkey day as much as we did. Or, for my non-American readers, that you enjoyed your Thursday as much we did!

A Weekend Getaway

We decided to flee the bright lights of Atlanta this weekend and head down to the Southern city of Savannah. Lee had never been, and I went for a few hours when I was 18 and prior to that I was 8, when my 3rd grade class took a 3 day trip there. In retrospect that is weird, right? A bunch of 3rd graders going on an overnight trip? Luckily my mom was a chaperone so I guess it wasn't that weird for me. Except for the fact we had only lived in Atlanta a year and the tour guide in Savannah kept telling us about the 'horrible, horrible Yankees' that marched through from Atlanta. I am pretty sure at this point my mom was wondering where in the world my dad had moved us.

But, I digress.

We headed out with Finn in tow, and ended up having a weekend full of Southern charm, pub food (pretty much every meal for some reason), nice weather and Spanish moss. I think we both agreed that Charleston still beats Savannah, although if someone offered us a historic home on one of the squares I don't think either of us would say no. It may not be a weekend trip to Paris, but we enjoyed the break!

And The Leaves Keep Falling

*First, I want to ask if you could send some good thoughts and prayers to a family in Atlanta that really needs them right now. A young mom from one of my mom's groups, with an 8 month old baby girl, Ella, passed away this morning after a long fight from some complications after a surgery. It is a tragic loss, and one that I can not even begin to imagine. Her family has lost a mom, a wife, a daughter, a sister, and could use all the good thoughts you could spare. Thank you*


Remember 2 whole days ago my post about Finn's new love for leaves? Thanks to the beauty of my parents leaf blower and a rake (man does it suck to rake!) we gave him a few more leaves to enjoy yesterday. And pictures that turned out way, way better.

 

94

Today is my grandma's 94th birthday. I imagine she will be celebrating in her way, which means low key, no fuss, with my aunt and uncle, in her group home. There will be no cake and ice cream, and she won't want presents. There won't be all of us around her, except in spirit and in love.

It is a long way from her 90th birthday celebration, here in Atlanta, where we all dressed up and celebrated that huge milestone with a fancy dinner and family and laughter.

It is a long way from our wedding, almost 3 years ago, where she danced into the night dressed to the nines. She danced with Lee, she danced with Landon, she giggled and made friends and charmed in the way that only she can.

It is a long way from a woman who, until 3 years ago, had a blog. A short-lived blog, but one nonetheless. She emailed and read our blogs and was the hippest 91 year old around.

It is a long way from 2.5 years ago, when I was sitting in a hotel in Melbourne with my mom when we found out that she had broken her back and we thought she wasn't going to make it.

She fought hard, and she survived. She not only survived but she made it her goal to drive again, and while it would normally be against anyone's better judgment to let a 92 year old with a broken back drive, she did live in Kingman, where the average age is 102 and no one drives over the speed of 10. It was okay.

It is a long way from when she met Finn last fall, out in Kingman. It was our last visit with her where she was able to walk on her own, to leave her (then) home, but we knew something wasn't right, she was acting a little different, and it was shortly after that we found out she likely had had some strokes. This was the start of a year of moving, from Kingman to Phoenix, from home to hospice to home.

It is a long way from January, when we were told my other grandmother had passed away at the exact time that my parents believed my grandma wouldn't make it. They were with her and said goodbye to her, believing they were saying goodbye to her for the last time as they were leaving to say their final goodbye to my nana. It was a tremendously heartbreaking experience, and one my dad has relived many visits since then.

It is a long way since last March, when my dad called and asked to have both Lee and I on the phone. He told us my grandmother had made a decision, and had stopped eating. She was in hospice and, as they believe fully in dying with dignity, they offered her food but never forced it on her. I had to get off the phone knowing that there was little time left and that I would be losing another grandmother this year.

It is a long way from April, 6 weeks after she stopped eating, when hospice came to my aunt and uncle, (who have devoted themselves to caring for her, who spend almost every day visiting her, who are amazing) and told them that it was unusual, but instead of getting worse my grandmother was getting better. Better. She was off all her medication and not eating and yet? She was surviving.

It is a long way from that day, when my grandmother heard the news and said "Well, if it isn't working then I am going to start eating, I am hungry." And that was that. She had made up her mind.

She is such a fighter, such a strength to our family. But I know she is done fighting, that she is ready to be done with her life in this world. She has said to me, and to others, that we shouldn't wish to live to be 94, that we will get what we wish for. Yet, despite the heartbreak of being unable to walk, of having to have someone bathe you, of not being able to eat anything that isn't pureed, and of wanting to be done with it all, she loves us. She has pictures of her great-grandsons on her walls, she has all her clothes organized and marked with her name, she had me paint her nails in September when I saw her, and buy her lipstick. She reads all my articles, she knows what everyone is up to, and she is still so much a part of our lives, of our family. I know her time could be up any day, but I believe that her strength, her tenacity, and her love for her family are helping to keep her around.

Happy 94th Birthday Grandma, I wish we were there to celebrate with you. Here's to 95, okay?