It’s difficult to make sense of families, sometimes. You grow up thinking that you know people completely because they are always present. They seem so familiar that you never quite see what is glaringly obvious, in hindsight.
This is my dilemma: I have three grandsons; the oldest is 16, soon to be 17, and it seems the relationship I had with him has faded. How many of you find that as your grandchildren have gotten older there seems to be a disconnect?
This story is about my new YouTube series and how it all started.
She awoke in a hospital bed. This was not something that she was unaccustomed too. Cornelia Springer had spent much of her life in hospitals later in her life. Whether for surgery or doctor's appointments, her dementia or her diabetes, by this time, Cornelia Springer was used to hospitals. The room was sterilized, thus smelling of nothing much, if anything, antibiotics or alcohol. The room was cold, as it often was in hospitals to kill the germs, but thankfully, the bed sheets kept her warm. Faint steps outside the door passed her ears. A rustling near her caught her attention. It was Angela, her niece and caretaker.
“Ya want it, take it now!” she said, about the white cat I admire.
Yesterday marked the 12th year since you and your sister, Netty, left this Earth and gave your energy back to universe.
On September 9, 2018, a beautiful spirit by the name of Kyrzayda Rodriguez lost her battle with stage four stomach cancer. I did not know her personally, but her strength and transparency were extremely contagious. She was determined to be open and honest about the stages, changes, and realities of her diagnosis. She encouraged many to keep going no matter how grim the outlook was, and that even though you may be feeling your worst, you can still look your best. She decided to stop receiving treatment, and shared that with her followers on Instagram on August 9, 2018. She fought until the very end, leaving a beautiful, compassionate message to never give up on yourself and your dreams. What I got from her is that it is never too late to start, but you must begin too.
Being a grandma—you would think it would be a piece of cake, a walk in the park—I mean, after all, we have already raised our children. That is how we were crowned with the coveted title of "Grandma."
It’s 5 AM and I’m wide awake with so much on my mind. I woke up at 3:30... after drinking water and using the restroom, I laid back down expecting sleep to come but instead I was given the desire to write. I want to open up my heart. In order to do that I must first listen and then follow my omens. I must write letters to apologize and also share what lies deepest in my heart. ❤️
Well it’s been over a year since my little family became official, and I am amazed at how much things have changed. I am still not sure I can do this on a few days, but there are a lot more days that have me stunned at how blessed I really am. Those blessing have come with lessons—some painful, some joyous.
The first day I realized that the world truly doesn’t stop for anyone was the day my grandmother died. Growing up in the booming (but dangerous) automotive state of Michigan in the 60s, she learned to be strong and confident at a young age. When I knew her, she was a very self-possessed woman—she knew exactly what she wanted. She was not a prodigy by any stretch of imagination, but one may think she were one of some sort by the way she constantly carried herself. Yet, here I was, an awkward 11-year-old suffering from one of the biggest losses anyone can deal with in life.