I think sometimes the best blog posts or stories a person tells are the ones told directly from their heart. The ones that just develop as you're staring at a blank screen, wanting to type out something, anything, to fill up the white space in front of you.
Then you wonder if anyone reads it. You hope someone reads it. You wonder if someone did read it, did they like it?
There are so many things I should talk about, blog about, write about, but they're not all easy to put into words. The fun stuff I had originally intended for today's post will need to wait until tomorrow.
My last living biological grandparent left this world today. She must have fulfilled her purpose on this earth because she left it. Cross the rainbow, moved to heaven. Flew up with the Angels.
I hope she hugged my dad.
Thinking about dad is hard. I have few memories of him, and not all good, but oh I loved him so much. Pined for him as a child, wondered what he was like. Envious of my friends who had both mother and father in their home.
He missed my highschool graduation. He didn't get to give me away at my wedding. He didn't know his first grandchild. Twelve long years had passed, and then he was gone. I didn't see him.
This morning I learned of my grandmother's passing via a facebook posting. We knew it was coming, we'd talked via messages with my Aunts for weeks so we had an idea the end was close.
I then I made a decision. At first I was going to rent a car and go to the services. Then I talked to my sister.
Sisters are something unique, and special. Sisters are the blessings in life that you are happy to have. They float down from heaven in the winter on snowflakes that glide softly and smoothly to the earth. They are unique and special.
My sister and I haven't seen each other in over a decade. Neither has either of us been that good at keeping communications open between us. Oh sure, there was the passing facebook comments and casual "love you's" but nothing really substantial passing between us.
I made the decision to skip my Nanny's funeral, to put the money towards visiting my sister. She lives in the Deep South and so for Christmas, I'm packing up my rugrats, my partner in everything, loading up my car, and going South for Christmas.
I hope Santa Clause has his beach gear ready!
It is at this point I should add that my husband hasn't said no, hasn't tried to dissuade me. He knows me well enough to know my mind was made up, it was not optional, and nothing he could do or say would deter me.
The kids don't know what to make of it, and asked swirling questions of "does that mean twice the presents?" "Will Santa still find us?"
I accomplished almost nothing today. I sat on my couch, eyes glued to FB messages, and spent no less than 6 hours chatting with my sister. My screen is flashing that there's a message from her right now, but she's just waiting for this blog post to be finished (ha!).
Today, I realized what we're missing. Chatting over coffee, the occassional girls night out, comparing parenting horror stories, recipe swapping, working out together, shopping, or just vegging out. Hugs. I love you's. Watching each other's kids growing up...and not just in pictures.
This year, for Christmas, all I want is to go South. To invade my sister's home and have her so sick of us that she can't wait for the end of our visit. Just kidding. I don't want her to be sick of us. I hope that we don't want the visit to end. I hope we can pop popcorn, and tell stories, and laugh, and drink hot chocolate until the sun comes up. To make Christmas memories that will last forever, a lifetime. A childhood. Memories that we've yet had the chance to create.
A first Christmas. With my sister.