A Beautiful Death

I've never been afraid of cancer.  Cancer was something that happened to other people and to other people's families, not mine.  Of course, I had sympathy and compassion for survivors and for those still fighting this awful disease, but I have never been near it.  You might think it's naive, or narrow-minded, or selfish but I'm just telling you that cancer has never been something that I have ever worried about.  Until last week.

Homer Lewis Truslow was born on December 8, 1926 in Nellysford, Virginia.  His father was a blacksmith.  His mother was shot and killed while she was standing on the front porch of their home; my grandfather clutching her apron.  He was six years old.

From Virginia, he traveled the world.  After watching one group of soldiers walking down a dirt road and another group riding in a caravan, he pointed to the riding soldiers and asked why they weren't walking.  When someone said, 'Air Force rides, Army walks.', he decided to enlist in the United States Air Force.  Iceland.  Japan.  Alaska.  World War II.  The Korean War.  Just to name a few.

My grandfather met Wanda Mae Jenkins in 1953.  He had a motorcycle, a tattoo, and a twinkle in his eye.  She rolled her eyes and said she'd never be with a man who wore motorcycle boots and ink on his arm.  They were engaged almost immediately and then spent a year apart before their wedding while he was stationed in Iceland.  They lived for each other.  In.Every.Way.Possible.

Five months ago, my Grandfather, or Papa, was a robust, 86 year old man who knew no bounds.  He just bought his first tractor...a purchase for which he had literally waited a lifetime.  In October, he was lifting 80lb bags of concrete.  He was still telling stories about jumping out of an airplane over the Himalayan jungle and watching the plane crash to the ground.  He could tell you just exactly how to get anywhere you needed to go in the United States without looking at a map.  Satellites and GPS devices had nothing on the knowledge inside his head.  But most importantly, five months ago, he was taking care of my Grandma. 

My Grandfather's love for my Grandma never waned.  As her health started to decline, he stepped in and did the things that she no longer could.  He cooked - even if she was the one directing.  He cleaned - even if she had her own 'suggestions' on how to do it the 'right way'.  He drove - even if she refused to wear her seat belt.  He put her quilts in the frame so she could quilt, he kept the fires going, and he did every.thing.in.his.power. to keep her happy.  His happiness laid in her happiness. 

Four and a half months ago, he had a heart attack and a few days later he had a series of strokes.  He spent a month in a rehabilitation center, where he spent time re-learning everyday skills.  Two months ago, he was diagnosed with Stage 4 bone cancer, with indications that it had spread to other parts of his body.  Three weeks ago, the cancer metastasized to his brain and he began in-home hospice care.

We lost him eight days ago.  He was surrounded by people that loved him and the people he loved.  I was so blessed to spend his last days with him.  So blessed that I got to tell him goodbye.  I knew he could hear me as he rubbed my hands while I thanked him for teaching me to count change, for churning the ice cream bucket on hot summer days when all of the kids gave up, for making me cheese omelets, for teaching me patience, and for showing me that it's not impossible to always, always do the right thing.  He never raised his voice, he never got angry, and above all else, he was always, always kind.

These photos are of his last days and they are a gut-wrenching testament to true love and to wedding vows that really do mean something.  It's a strange thing to see the beauty in death; to find comfort in the end, but the love that surrounded him in his last days is such a rarity that I felt compelled to capture it.  Everyone who visited, everyone who fed him, held his hand, talked to him, kissed him on the head.  His loyal sidekick, Joey, who never left his side.  My son playing peek-a-boo over his bed rails.  The constant presence of the love of his life. If there is such a thing as a beautiful death, my grandfather was of the most deserving, and it was an honor to call him my Pa.   

My son, Henry, with his Pa.

This is the last photo that was taken of my Grandparents.  He passed away the next day.  

Thank you for your continued thoughts, prayers, healing vibes, and faraway hugs for my Grandmother.  Learning to live alone after 60 years of marriage is unbearable for her. 

He's Crafty. And he's just my style.

What do you do when you're mega bored and there's 37' of snow on the ground?  Well. You make fake snow, of course.  Making fake snow while there's real snow outside is kind of like going to the pool when you're at the beach.  You still get to swimming, you just don't have to deal with all of the sand.  Ugh.  Sand.  Same thing with fake snow.  You still get to play with the snow, you just don't have to deal with the boots. and the pants. and the jacket. and the gloves. and the hat. and the crying...you get the point. Or I could just chalk all of this up to "sensory" play and pretend that I'm not too lazy to spend 20 minutes getting my kid bundled up to go outside for five minutes before he gets too cold and we have to come back inside and do the whole boots.pants.jacket.gloves.hat.crying dance again.  Anyway!  

I spent big bucks on this project - two whole dollars.  A can of 'sensitive' shaving cream, 'cause you know...Henry is sensitive, y'all.  And a box of baking soda.  I wasn't really sure how the whole thing was supposed to work, so I just mixed them together and acted like I knew what I was doing.  What's the worst that could happen?  

We learned that fake snow makes excellent T-Rex tracks, whisks are great at flinging 'snow' from here to Denver, and just because there is a place-mat under something doesn't necessarily mean it will keep your table clean.  Ultimately, there is no substitute for the real deal.  After a little coloring, we wound up outside anyway.  

He finds my hair ties around the house and likes to wear them as 'bracelets'.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

And if it's going to be cold, I want there to be snow.  Seriously.  What's the point of cold weather if there isn't snow on the ground?  Henry loves playing in it and I love it, too, because it usually means he will Rip Van Winkle like a boss all afternoon.  Getting from point A (inside the house) to point B (outside in the snow) is hardly a direct line, though.  He enjoys putting on his boots; he enjoys putting on his gloves.  Everything in between, however, usually takes an act of Congress...and we all know what a pain those guys are.  Anyway!  We muscle through it because there isn't much more in this world (besides trucks, trains, planes, or his Mommm) that makes him as happy as playing in the "nooooo".  That's shorthand for "snow".  We're working on our annunciation. 

He's also pretty crazy about doing everything just like his Daddy... 

Snow Graffiti

Pinterest success!  You know those Pinterest posts that make you feel like a bad parent because someone hand stitched their own cloth diapers with organic Egyptian cotton, built a toy box out of upcycled toilet paper rolls, and pureed a months worth of baby food in one day with heirloom root vegetables from their winter gardens?  Well.  This isn't one of those posts.   This little project is cheap and kid tested to be 100% awesome sauce.  Spray bottle + food coloring + water = hours of entertainment...if you can stay warm that long!  I bought little squirt bottles from Tarjay for .97 because I thought they would be easier for H to handle.  Of course you could use whatever you have around the house.  Sadly, our snow is melting away today, but they're calling for more tonight.  I'm crossing my fingers, because "spray" painting the grass isn't nearly as fun. 

Snoooooow.

Hey now, ATL.  SnowMageddon, CarMageddon, IceMageddon...whatever y'all are calling it...y'all are stuck!  I am so glad that our family and friends in that area made it either home safely or at least had a warm place for the night.  I just cannot imagine having to leave my child on a school bus!  Hopefully, you didn't have to go anywhere today and you got to at least enjoy a little of the snow. 

Speaking of snow.  We still have some residual flakes sticking around from a system that pushed through a few days ago.  On days like this, I like to take Henry to the Tot Gym at the Aztlan (try to pronounce that one.  yeah.) Community Center in Old Town Fort Collins.  He loves it.  I love it.  We're both happy campers when we go because he gets to learn how to share (not really his forte) and I get to talk to other adults about how bad our kids are at sharing.  It makes me feel normal. Win-win.

I will tell you something that is not 'winning' though.  Opening your sunroof on the way home because it's actually pretty nice outside and you think you'd like some fresh air, but you forgot that there's still four inches of snow on said sunroof.  Yup.  So as we're driving down the road singing Raffi songs and minding our own business, an avalanche of snow rudely barrels down into the car and onto our heads.  I immediately start laughing, turn around to see Henry wiping snow out of his eyes and he says, "uh-oh".  Yup.  Uh-oh, indeed. Thank goodness we were close to home. 

We were heading up the steps to the house when we had to make a pit-stop to play with chalk.  And then snow.  And Lightening McQueen.  We're all about the pit-stops right now.

Here We Go

If the first month of the year is any indication of what the rest of this year has in store for my family, then we'd better hold on to our hats.  It seems like the hurdles are coming closer together and higher with each jump.  What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right?  Well, in my case it's also opened my eyes to the importance of slowing down, taking my time, and drinking in the blueness of my little boy's eyes.

Because what's important right now is the way Henry says "choo" for tractor and the way it took him nearly two years to call me Mom.  Not Mommy, or Mama....noooo, we're way too sophisticated for that.  It's Mom, with a long "m" on the end.  Mommm.  And the way he counts, "two, nine, two, nine!"  Or the way he fake snores when he's pretending to sleep.  Yep, that's happening right now.

These are some of the things that I hope to share with you by leaving Facebook behind and entering a world with more conversations and fewer status updates, less dilution and more concentration, and more love and less "liking".  Kinda like those Home Depot commercials...More Saving. More Doing.  Or something like that. 

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to send me a message of support and encouragement.  I'm blessed to call you my friends and I'm so excited about the conversations that I've had with some of you over the last 24 hours.  I'm honored that you are coming on this journey with me.  

I took these this morning while He Man enjoyed some of his birthday gifts.  Enjoy.  

Catching Up, Slowing Down

It's been a minute.  It's been lots of minutes.  Sorry about that.  I'm pretty sure I warned you that I was not very good at keeping this here blog dusted off.  But I'm back, for now, and hopefully this time it will stick a little longer. 

It's my kiddo's 2nd birthday today.  This day brings back so many memories of happiness and fear.  If I close my eyes, I am right back in that birthing room.  It was the longest and shortest 20 hours of my life.  A complete blur.  And when it was all over at 15:17mst, there was a baby boy.  There was a 6lb 4oz, 19 inches long little boy.  And there was his Dad with tears in his eyes.  And there was me. And all of a sudden we were a family of three.  This is my favorite day of the year because it's the day where all of my dreams came true. 

In the days leading up to his birthday, I have been doing a lot of reflecting.  Thinking about what to "get" him for his special day made me think about what he really needs.  Christmas was just a few weeks ago and his grandparents did plenty of spoiling, so I was having trouble coming up with something that he either A. Didn't already have or B. Something that he really "needed".  When my thoughts circled around "nothing", it hit me.  He really doesn't need anything, except for me to be present.  I will be his present.  I will quit spending time on Facebook, I will quit playing games on my phone, and I will be more present for him.  We can't get all of the time back to make them small again.  We only have the now and I forever want to remember all of his tiny features and idiosyncrasies ...not what my high score is on Candy Crush. 

So.  For my buddy on his birthday, I am giving him the gift of time.  I'll be quitting Facebook and starting up the 'ol blog again.  Here, you can keep up with photos of Henry and follow his adventures.  I'll be sure to keep this updated (while he naps!) so all of our friends and family can continue to watch him grow. 

In the new year, it is also my goal to focus on my photography and grow my business.  I will be keeping both personal and professional blogs, and I hope that you follow them both!  Your support over the last year has been so encouraging, and I'm really looking forward to what 2014 has to offer.

See you on the flip.