When I Realized My Grandfather Really Wasn’t Coming Back

Something happened today that really jarred my memory and brought me to write this post. I saw the following picture on Facebook and it got me thinking about my grandfather.

It took me right back to the moments where I can remember thinking about him and instantly started crying. Even now writing this, I can feel the water filling up in my eyes. I know many of you will say that you have/had an awesome grandfather to, but I’d like to take a minute to tell you about mine, and how special he truly was.

I guess it starts when my mother became pregnant with me. My parents were not married. I guess my grandfather liked my dad, but he was very upset about the whole situation and didn’t talk to my mother for days. However, being the man that he was, he still bought her a crib and everything she would need for me, even though he wasn’t talking to her. He was always that way, taking care of things even when he was upset.

Of course, as soon as I was born, he was completely smitten. My mother is a child of two, but lived very much a single child’s life. She never met her brother as he died on a surgery table a few months after he was born. That meant, I was the first and only grandchild.

My parents didn’t stay together very long. They did get married after I was born, but separated when I was about 4, officially divorcing when I was around 5. Where do you think we went back to? My grandparents. In fact, their home was very much “home base” my entire life.

My grandfather always spoiled me (and later my other siblings). I have pictures where my toys barely fit in the picture with me. My father told me that I would get tired of opening gifts because there were simply so many. I had this 6″+ man wrapped around my tiny finger. There’s no denying he loved me.

My grandfather was a used car salesman. In fact, it was my mother’s company that he worked for her since she dropped out of college to be home with me. The company was even named after my sister and I. But eventually he took over the company and changed its name since he did become the only one running the business.

I used to love visiting him at his office. My grandmother and I would get lunches for him, he would let me sit in his office chair, I would be called his “Number 1 Dudette”, and I loved the fact that everywhere we went, people always knew and respected my grandfather, and thus treated me as if I was a special person. I had never met anyone who didn’t know or like my grandfather.

If you could imagine the biggest realistic playground in the world, that would be my grandfather’s car lot. He gave me access to all the keys and vehicles in his lot. I can still remember the amount of fun we had pretending to drive the cars, and especially in exploring the only RV I remember him having. Only once did he ask me to backup a truck into a corner spot. My mother sat in the passenger seat with me, and I remember learning really quick to use my mirrors. I was so scared I would mess up his vehicles in this tight spot. But I did it! I still can’t believe he trusted me…

If I could compare him to anything, it would very much be the godfather. I’m not joking when I say that everyone seemed to know who he was. He was an amazing man when he was happy, but he was always a man you feared when he was unhappy. I don’t remember him every getting mad at me, but it was a general rule that when he came home, the remote control to the television had to be in the right spot for him to lay on the couch and watch what he wanted. He became upset if the remote went missing. There were just certain things you knew not to do.

Sometimes, my grandmother and him would fight. I’m sure there’s not a couple in the world who has not at least had one argument. Sometimes, or maybe more than sometimes, this meant he would stay at his office for the night. It was a conveniently built, small building that contained 3 rooms and a tiny hallway. One room was “the office”. The second room was of course a washroom. And the third room was his bedroom. It contained only a tv, a bed, and a mini fridge. It pretty much had everything he needed if he needed a night away. So it was a fairly normal occurrence for him not to come home sometimes.

The best thing about my grandfather was that he was always there for us. There was a time when we didn’t have the most money, and work was slow. My grandfather always provided what we needed, and then some. Most of you know that I have moved like 20 times with my family, not including on my own. The one person who was always there, regardless of where we were, was my grandfather. He never missed an opportunity to come and stay with us. (Of course I should say my grandmother always came with him as well, but I will dedicate a post to her another day.) He was honestly one of the biggest constants in my life.

When my family made the official decision to move from the east coast to the west coast, my grandparents offered to bring my sister and I out at the end of summer so that we could spend the extra time with our father. It was a fair bit of a long drive, but even then my grandfather trusted me with reading the map (before GPS systems). I almost think his belief in me helped me grow to the independent woman I am today. I have a lot to credit him for.

They stayed with us at our new place for a few days. Early in the morning, him and I would get up and drive to a hotel or another homey restaurant to eat. He was not a chain-restaurant type of person. Even back in the town he worked, he had one particular restaurant he preferred to eat at, and everybody knew his specials and what he enjoyed eating. He always preferred the homestyle cooking. In fact, he met my grandmother while she was waitressing at such a type of restaurant. My family and I have visited that restaurant a few times and imagined what it must have been like. They still have the juke boxes and the old stools. Sometimes it’s nice to preserve history rather than to embrace change.

We then took a trip to the “big city” so my grandparents could see it before they left. We had a lot of fun. At one point, we lost my grandfather in the big mall. I’ll never forget him driving around on those motorized scooters for people who can’t walk well. He had even gotten an orange smoothie and I guess spilled it all over the machine. If you knew my grandfather like I did, you would picture him using colourful language for the time he was mad, then acting like nothing ever happened.

I don’t remember how we ever found him, but I can tell you it was one of the hardest good-byes of my life.This wasn’t just moving a few hours away, this was a four day drive across the country. Of course they would come visit again, but the visits would never be as frequent as before. What I didn’t know was that my tears would get worse before they ever got better.

Literally two or three days after we returned to our new home, I got a call from my grandmother. It sounded like her for sure, but something was a little different. She asked to speak to my mom pretty much right away, so I gave my mom the phone and sat on the landing of the stairs. My mother took the phone into her room which was at the top of the stairs. The next words I heard told me pretty much everything I didn’t want to hear. She said, as she began crying, “Oh Mom!”.

My grandparents had been involved in a car accident on their journey home. An impatient driver went in their lane to pass a semi-truck and didn’t see my grandparents van coming at them. My grandmother was in the hospital, a little bruised but otherwise ok (she would later need nose surgery to correct the alignment). My grandparents’ friend who was helping them drive home had so many broken bones, including ribs and shoulder, and would also need counselling for what happened (he was driving at the time – completely not his fault). But my grandfather didn’t make it.The speed they were traveling on the highway, and the impact of a completely head-on hit left the vehicle in shambles and took my grandfather with it.

Immediately, we packed and drove back to the city. I thankfully had a great aunt and uncle who lived just outside the limits and welcomingly invited us in until we could all make arrangements to fly home. My mother was able to fly right away to be with my grandmother, but there were 4 more of us to fly, and we had to wait for a cheaper ticket to afford it.

It was so strange when I got home. Being in my grandparents house seemed so normal. I mean, I was only at my “new home” for less than a week. I had no attachments to it and didn’t even have to act like it was supposed to be my new home. I had come home and it felt like life should be normal again.

I know I cried a few times, but I remember just having the attitude and thoughts of “My grandfather is just at his office, staying the night like he usually does. Sometime he’ll come home.”

I still remember it as clear as yesterday: My mother and I were sitting in the living room, on separate couches, not talking much as we didn’t for a while, and her saying the exact same thing that I felt – that Grampy was just at his office and sometime he would come home. And it hit us right then that we had to realize it was wasn’t true, that Grampy really wasn’t coming back. I broke down (just like I am again now) because he was always there, for everything! How could he not come back this time! How could the one stable thing in my life not come back! It was so hard to accept.

Sitting in his house, seeing all of his old stuff, going to his office, it was all so hard to do when you realize the person who has always been there for you, the person who has loved you your whole life was suddenly gone. My nickname would never be used again, except when telling stories of him. My promise from him of giving me my first car would never come true. My life was drastically left with an empty hole that I’m not sure was ever filled again. Nobody could take his place, and I could never have been prepared for that instant change in time.

Life is not fair, and it never will be. The devil is waiting for any opportunity to attack and make a mess of things. He knows which strings to pull and he knows how to make things hurt you more than anyone else. He knows he can damage us and take away everything that means the world to us, which is why it’s so important to turn to God when you’re hurting, to let Him hold you and tell you that everything is going to be ok, because one day, it will. One day, when Jesus returns and we are taken to Heaven with Him, there will not be anymore pain, there will not be anymore death, there will not be anymore tears. I don’t know what my grandfather’s relationship with Christ was like. I know he sort of had a falling out at one point, but he insisted my mom make sure she took us to church. So I only hope and pray that he had a good relationship with God, because it would be so nice to run into those loving arms I miss so dearly, the loving arms that were missing during both of my graduations and my wedding, the loving arms that were taken away from me way too soon.

I miss this man more than anything, and truly just thinking of how much I miss him brings me to tears almost instantly. Hold your loved ones close and make sure you let them know how important they are to you. You never know which instant will take them away.

Today I Walked in the Office and Said “I Quit!”

Ok, so not really. But I did walk in and said that I felt like quitting.

Today was one of those days. Those days where you wish you had never gotten out of bed, that you called in sick, that anything would have happened except what did. Teachers, I’m sure you know the kind of day I’m talking about.

Today I had to deal with something I hoped to never deal with; something that totally broke my heart. Since I don’t have kids of my own, those school kids are so much more like my own children. They are the kids that I try to protect. And when something happens, I immediately attack myself that I did not do a good enough job training and guiding them in life. When something happens, I immediately feel like a failure.

Today was probably one of the worst things I’ve ever had to deal with. So immediately my thoughts were I had failed as a teacher, I had failed as a guide in the life of my student, and I wasn’t fit for my job. What a hit!

Teaching is such a large, tough responsibility. Parenting is a huge responsibility. Any career in which you work with children and youth is a huge responsibility. When working with children, you have to realize that everything you do, they are watching. Anything you do or say, they will carry with them the rest of their lives. What a scary thought!

And as a teacher, you are being entrusted with someone else’s child which carries an extra burden in itself. You strive to be a good influence in their lives. You strive to teach them such great morals in such a small time and when something happens (and it honestly only has to be one thing), you feel as if you’ve failed altogether. Nevermind the fact that you have so many other kids in the class. All it takes is one student, one incident, and you immediately begin to judge yourself.

That’s what I went through today. I wanted to cry. I wanted to quit. I wanted to go home. I wanted to just curl up in a ball and go to sleep so that I could forget about the world around me at that moment. But instead I took deep breaths and did what I needed to do to deal with the situation.

Today was a really hard day.

Fellow teachers, a lot of you have probably dealt with something similar. I feel your pain, I feel your stress. Please know that you are not alone. The devil’s presence is ever near to us and our students, which makes our job ever increasingly important in showing them God’s light and guiding them away from the devil’s tactics and creating their own personal relationships with a Saviour that will be with them always.

Do the best you can and be the role model those kids need. Pray for your students and the choices they will make. It’s the best thing you can really do.

Sometimes Things Don’t Turn Out The Way You Expect…

Many of you have followed my journey and know that we ended up with our five little babies due to an unexpected and unforeseen pregnancy. Of course, since we have no children of our own, these dogs are our babies, our children. And this week, in fact the past 2 weeks, have been awful. My husband did some research to find that stomach flu is transferrable between dogs and humans. Can you imagine? With a sick household, dogs included, it hasn’t been easy. As of yesterday, the dogs are finally in the clear. My husband is the last one battling his second round with fevers and being sick. Hopefully it will leave him soon as well.

This week was not an easy one. The dogs are like babies, and because they cannot tell you what’s wrong with them and may not even really know, of course they cry. What else are they supposed to do? So my husband and I have been taking turns sitting with them, even at night. It hasn’t been easy and could very well be the reason for the second round of my husband’s stomach flu.

Despite the hardships, this week was pretty good. Monday night, we finally sold the Audi that we have been trying to sell for forever. I cannot tell you what a surprise and a blessing that was! I believe it was Monday night that we also watched the movie, “God’s Not Dead”. If you have never seen this movie, I cannot recommend a better one. It is not a documentary, but simply a video showing the doubt and atheist point-of-view of God, and the rebuttal with Christian standpoint. It was really, really well done. Tuesday night, I ended up in a conversation with an atheist woman whom I did not know. What started as a fiery conversation amidst many Christians and her, I was able to continue mainly on my own, and not only have a great detailed conversation with her, but in the end, she even apologized for some of the crude comments she had made and thanked me for the conversation. This is something I’ve never had the opportunity to experience before and it was truly a blessing. On Wednesday, my husband and I went to the gym for the first time in a week since the family has been sick, and despite being sick and out of the gym for that long, my strength had not left, and my body picked right up where it left off. I even did many more exercises that normal and left the gym feeling exhausted and worn-out, but proud. On Thursday, we were surprised from a colleague with two tickets to a Steven Curtis Chapman concert. And not only that, but we just happened to sit right in front of a cousin that I have not seen in over 10 years. What a God moment, planned for all the right things. My husband’s fever increased during the concert, but even he wanted to stay and listen. You have no idea what a blessing that all turned out to be for me. And last but not least, when we came home, nearing midnight, my husband shivering with a high fever, he ran upstairs right away to pile under the blankets. I stopped to get the mail. And his work permit was in it! We’ve been waiting 2 years for anything from the government for him! I know it’s not residency, but he can at least work. I couldn’t contain my joy that night. Something we had waited for so long. God really was turning our hard week into such immaculate blessings along the way. I was on such a spiritual, emotional, and physical high.

But then it happened. And I have no way to explain this to you except from what I learned and made total sense to me a couple weeks ago. It’s when God is doing something good that the devil attacks, and it holds true. For so long, my husband and I have been in a bit of a limbo. Happy we’ve moved, but got sick. Shorter driving times, but haven’t been tired as early as usual. Just kind of stuck in the middle of neither a high nor a low. And yet with such a hard week (2 weeks total), God blessed us so immensely. The grand scheme of it all, I’m not sure. But the blessings were undeniable.

And yet yesterday, I received a phone call from our landlady. Our neighbours complained about our dogs barking. I asked her when they were barking, whether it was during the day, evening, night, and she said it sounded like it was all the time. I explained to her that if it was this past week, that the dogs have been sick and yes have been more whiney than usual and apologized for that. She then went on to ask about the dogs that I have and was noted that I have more than allowed. When we signed into this place, the number of dogs was not mentioned, except where it said there were no dogs allowed which we asked about. The sign-up sheet for pets was the same as our previous rental where only one slot is available for information, which of course we filled out. The landlady at our previous place (same company) also had met our dogs with my husband in the hallway and had petted them and everything seemed ok. So we never even gave it a second thought. So I looked up the bylaws, and wouldn’t you know, despite the amount of people we’ve met, talked to, known, nobody has ever told me what they have said. In our city, you can have up to 6 cats, but only 3 dogs. I don’t think I have to tell you how much my heart sank, the panic that ran through me, the sadness I’ve grown. I have to get rid of two dogs.

I just can’t even explain to you the depression I feel. I wish the neighbour would have come and talked to me. I wish I hadn’t moved us here. Nobody complained at our previous place, and yet I thought I was doing something better by moving us to a bigger place, closer to my work, and no drunk neighbours stumbling through hallways at 3 and 4 in the morning. Sometimes I wonder why such seemingly good things have to turn out so bad. I’m struggling.

The thing is, had my neighbour’s asked, maybe they’d better understand. Maybe they’d understand that we don’t have kids and these are ours. Maybe they’d understand that my dogs aren’t normally that noisy, but instead have been battling sickness the same way babies do, and are better now. But the truth of the matter is, some people don’t care to understand. And that’s a sad truth of humanity. We worry so much about ourselves, about any annoyances to ourselves, anything that gets in our way, that we fail to try and understand the “why” of other people. We jump to conclusions with reason of understanding. And unfortunately, I’m stuck in the middle of one of these situations.

Thankfully, my mother is able to take one of my babies, and I know she will love her. I know her life will be good and she will be spoiled. But what saddens me is that she’ll be on the other side of the country where I will not see her for quite some time. My brother-in-law is also able to take my other dolly as he’s be in love with her since the first time they met. He is not married, no girlfriend, and has no other animals. She will most assuredly be spoiled and treated as his princess. Another good home, and not out of the family, but not in my home and hard for me to accept at this time.

The truth is, I hate this city. Not entirely strong, but pretty much. I never wanted to come back to this city after I had left. My superintendents had picked where I would work, and not where I had requested for the people who requested me. I was put here because they wanted me to be. I’m in a place, that no matter where I moved, if I’m still in this insanely large city, I cannot be with my children. And I hate it. It tears me apart. I am no different than a woman with five children. Some people don’t understand why people have so many kids. And yes, coming from a family of 4, the house can get crazy, but that’s the fun of it. I’m not an “animal collector”, which is my assumption why the rule was put into place. My husband and I are a child-less couple who had no intentions on having five dogs, and yet by unforeseen situations, grew our hearts to include the the three that came to be.

I’m just so distraught, so upset, so unbelievably depressed. I used to advocate so badly for being here while my husband had no work, wasn’t able to work, and I was. But I’m really starting to wonder if my job is really worth it. I know and feel so accomplished when I watch my students change into the people I hope they will become, but at the expense of my own family? I don’t feel that anymore. Family should always come first, and though my children may not be human, that doesn’t change they fact they are my children. And my heart is breaking. I say goodbye to my first baby next week, and I can’t deny the fact that even thinking about it, tears fall. I sit with my dogs, on the floor, in the basement, not caring how much hair they cover me with. I love them, and there is no love like a dog’s.

Without a doubt, I’d get out of this place if I could. But as my husband JUST got his work permit, he is now only searching for a job. As a teacher, I cannot just quit until the Summer, and even so, do not have the money to get out of our lease agreement until either my husband makes the money, or we have to wait until October when it is up. I am thankful for family that is willing to help, and able. I know that I will be able to get one of my babies back should the time come that I can, but the other I will probably not. Nor do I wish to tear the bonds that are made, as I know how loving and loveable my babies are.

I know God has a plan in all of this. I don’t see it at the moment, I don’t feel like this is all ok, but I know it is what has to be, and I will never cease to trust God as I know He sees the bigger plan that I can’t. I know He feels the heartache that I do, and I know He cries with me. These next few weeks are going to be hard. And though I struggle with feelings of anger, and retaliation of many things I could say about my neighbours in the month we’ve moved in, I will resist as I know God would not have it that way. Life is unfair, and can be super hard. Pain can seem insurmountable, but all through this time, God promises to be with me and to carry me when I grow too weary to walk on my own. I’m thankful for a God that loves me like that and knows more than I do what it’s like to lose a child.

Jeremiah 29:11 — For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Isaiah 40:31 — but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.