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.

Detective Teacher

Have you ever had to do anything crazy? Have you ever had a mystery as a teacher that you’ve had to figure out? Sometimes I wonder if I watch too many detective shows (CSI, Murdoch Mysteries, Bones, etc…). I’m always fascinated by the way detectives are able to figure things out. What is even more interesting is that Evidence and Investigation is also a unit in Grade 6 Science. So I’m able to share my fascination with my students.

While camping this week, I had a series of unfortunate events that caused me to practice some detective skills. And without sharing any specific names or details as to the people that were involved, here is the story:

Tuesday afternoon, we come back from afternoon field studies, and one of my students had lotion all over her sleeping bag. So I cleaned it off, and figured it was just a prank (doors to the cabins don’t lock the best).

Tuesday evening, when we returned from the evening activity, there was lotion on another student’s bed and blue handprints on our door. Then the 6 girls in my cabin started plotting ways to catch who it was. They were checking fingerprints, thinking of places to hide and catch them, etc… It was a JOB to get them to sleep that night.

Wednesday morning, I assumed nothing would happen during breakfast, but low and behold, there was toothpaste on a girl’s bed AND MY BED/PILLOW. I didn’t react though, because I had it dropped in my ear by that point that somebody thought one of my cabin girls was doing it, and I figured if it was, then reacting by anger would not get me the results I wanted. So I played it off like it was no big deal, and listened to the plans the girls told me I should do to figure it out (hiding on the top bunk, pretending to sleep during afternoon field studies, etc…).

We went to lunch, and of course came back to water on two of the girls’ beds. One soaking the sleeping bag, one just on the mattress. So I began thinking without telling the girls.

Once they left for afternoon field studies, I knew I had to hide somewhere that nobody had talked about, especially if it was one of my own girls. So I swept out the concrete floor the best I could (it’s so dirty), packed my large and small suitcase (it was packing day anyways so I figured it wouldn’t be suspicious), strategically placed them where I thought I would be most easily seen, and hid as close to the wall under the bed as I could. Throughout the hour and 15 minutes, my arm went numb, the floor was cold/dirty, but I knew I had to do what I could to catch whoever was doing this.

At one point, one of my girls ran in and was asking if I was in the room. So I whispered to her that I was under the bed (I knew it wasn’t this girl) and she told me she figured out that whoever did the blue handprints had to have gone to a certain field study that day because it’s the only place that had the blue chalk (the kids are divided up into study groups for the week and get through 2 stations a day). I told her thanks for figuring that out, and reminded her not to tell anyone where I was.

About 5 minutes after she left, the door opened again, and another one of the girls came in asking if anyone was there. She then jumped up on all of the bunk beds to check to see if I was hiding there (as they told me I should do). Thankfully, she didn’t think to check under the beds! I was basically holding my breath, I was so nervous she would see me. She then went over to her bag, took out one of her permanent markers, and wrote the word “STUPID” on her own mattress, and quickly ran out the door. I didn’t stop her in the act and instead waited to see what she did after she had left.

As I was getting out and saw what she had done, the girl that had originally come in to show me the chalk said that she had just seen the other girl leave, and wanted to know if anything happened. I quickly told her yes and showed it to her, and she came up with the brilliant idea of pretending that nobody had seen anything and going to tell her that something else had happened. And wouldn’t ya know, the girl who did it was like, “Something else happened? What happened?” And I just calmly smiled at her and told her she could go look if she wanted, and continued to walk over to where the other teacher from my school was to discuss how I should approach the whole situation.

I’m telling you, the things we, as teachers, have to do sometimes!

Do you have any interesting stories, any ways you’ve had to discover something going on in your classroom or on a trip? I would love to hear them! Leave your story in the comments below!

Day 18 – “You Got A Problem With Me?”

I have a problem. I brought home that veggie burger last night (and felt the misery of so much grease this morning), and do you think I did “RawTill4”? Absolutely not! I knew that burger was in there, and that’s what I went for. I’ve gotta learn to order only what I can eat that night, and not take things home. It’s not mentally working!

Meals:

Breakfast – Veggie Burger
Lunch – Vanilla Iced Coffee (I know, not much of a lunch…)
Late Snack – 4 Freezies (so hot here!)
Supper – Black Bean Burger, French Fries
Late Night Snack – Blood Orange Kombucha, Vegan Vanilla Cake

I didn’t workout today, but it was a bit of a weird, interesting day.

It was late this evening when we went to Planet Organic. I honestly love that store, and I needed some last minute items to take with me while I’m camping this week with my students.  When we got to the store, there was a very intoxicated man standing outside the doors. As soon as my husband got out of the car, he yelled at him saying something along the lines of, “You got a problem with me?”. Um, no Dude… we just pulled up and we’re going to get groceries. We hadn’t had a problem with you yet… But as we kept walking inside, repeating the word no several times, two bicycle policemen were walking towards him. As we went through the sliding doors, the store manager came over asking if he was still there, and was happy to see the police were there. I’m guessing this guy had been hanging around, causing trouble for awhile. What an extra little “spice” to the night.

Then it comes to me sitting here, eating this vegan vanilla cake. It takes me back to a whole different world…

A couple years ago, I was sitting in my apartment, my husband still unable to work, and living paycheque to paycheque. At times, I had to juggle which bill I could let slide for a month or two. Half of the time, our car didn’t work. It was such a different world. For us, it was such a treat to eat at Tim Hortons or McDonalds, McDonalds being the most frequent because it was the shorter walk from our place. We did what we could with what we had.

One day, we had taken the bus to go shopping down this road, covered with stores on both sides, and that’s when I saw the organic food market. I remember walking through there, not being able to really buy much (much more expensive than a McDonalds-night-out budget), but I so wanted to try this vegan vanilla cake. I had been vegetarian for many years and had heard lots of criticism about vegans and how the lack of dairy made everything taste bad. I so badly wanted to see for myself. Luckily, they sell pieces of the cake for a couple dollars, so I was able to get that and I think one special drink (I believe it was also the first time I tried kombucha). I couldn’t believe how good it was. In fact, I remember sitting at the bus stop, not realizing kombucha was carbonated, had shaken the bottle, opened it, and was quickly covered in what I immediately thought smelled like vinegar. What a smell for the ride home!

Sometimes I think it’s important we look back and see how far we’ve come. My husband is now on his third job in this country, we live in a 3-level townhouse instead of a 1-bedroom apartment, we have 2 working vehicles instead of one that continuously broke down, we have our own washing machine instead of using coin laundry, and I’ve gone vegan, eating as organic as possible. We NEVER eat at McDonalds anymore. So much has changed. It doesn’t mean we’re quite comfortable to where I’d like to be, but we’re in a place where don’t have to worry about bills not being paid, or fun not being had (though still smaller scale). And as I’m sitting here eating this vegan vanilla cake, I can smile and know I’ve come a long way from the first time I was blown away with this delicious treat, and look forward to where I’ll be the next time I have it again.

I Hope One Day My Students Understand

It has been such an emotional week for me this week. After an incident that occurred last week, the decision was brought down from Academic Standards Committee as to what would occur as punitive and redemptive actions in this situation. Of course, I had to write the e-mail, and then answer the questions that later ensued as to what had actually occurred as well as the details of the final decision.

So far, parents have seemed understanding and supportive. It’s the students that I worry about the most.

I hope one day my students understand
The reasons why I had to do what I did
The amount of punishment I suffered with them
The fact that I wanted to erase the event and the consequences with it
The reasons why I couldn’t
The reasons why I had to follow through even when I didn’t want to
The reasons why I can seem so harsh
Only because I want them to see their own potential
I hope one day my students understand
How much I cared and wanted them to succeed
The tears I’ve cried and the time I’ve spent
The lasting effects of memories
I hope one day my students understand
That I tried to do the best I could
A year is short in the grand scheme of life
There is no time to waste
I have to do what I can each day
Even if it means correcting mistakes
I hope one day my students understand
That it wasn’t just to “get them in trouble”
My care is genuine, much deeper than that
I hope one day they’ll see it.

To any other teachers reading this blog: Do you ever feel this way? I’m finding truth in the fact that it’s usually the more difficult students, the ones you spend so much time trying to “fix” or “correct” that grow on you the most. Since I have no children of my own, these students essentially are my children. And I think that just makes it worse when things go wrong.

I know I’ll get through this, it’s just another bump in the road. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard. It’s so hard not to reach out and want to take all of their pain and hardships away. It’s hard to watch them learn the difficulties of life. But you have to, or they’ll never learn the difference between what is right and wrong. And so it is my prayer each night, that no matter what happens, they’ll someday understand and see how much I care. I hope one day my students will understand…

Week 13 Day 1: Extended

So I did just what I said. I woke up bright and early, and got ready for the gym. I completed a harsh leg workout, but I ended up splitting the workout. I had only finished squats, hack squats and one-leg jumps before my husband woke up and wanted to come to the gym. So I finished up this round with 12 minutes of HIIT and went to get him.

We came back to the gym and I finished the remainder of my workout. For the first time ever, I enjoyed doing deadlifts. I felt strong and in control and I loved it! I almost cried doing 20 and 2s between prone leg curls and leg extensions. It really, really hurt. I also pushed super hard with leg press, using heavier weights again than usual. And as crazy as it was, I finished with my final and last 12 minute HIIT session. I’m completely done the challenge. All workouts and the equivalent for 4 cardio sessions a week completed. What a feeling!

I had taken some pictures two days ago of some ab outlines that I saw! I was ecstatic! And yet when I finished everything today, my pictures did not turn out the same way. I don’t know what I did! I was so depressed and almost ready to call the competition quits when I noticed someone had asked when the pictures were due, and our coach has given us an extra week to get pictures in! This was the hope I needed!

I’m going to monitor my diet very closely this week and try and get a picture to show the hard work I’ve done. I know my pictures won’t reflect the same fat loss I’ve seen from others, but I do want to be able to show what I’ve accomplished, and for whatever reason, my body does not reflect that today. So I’m going to take advantage of this week, and be watching for the opportune moment. It’s going to happen!

For the rest of the day, we didn’t get to the mall to shop for Christmas like we wanted, but we did go to a Mexican restaurant that we haven’t been to in a long time (I didn’t eat very much) and then we spent some time at Chapters. We absolutely love books and I was able to purchase my new agenda (what I used to write down my workouts) for the new year. It was a good night, and a day filled with hope. My husband is more or less in charge of my food and workouts this week, so let’s see how these pictures will turn out! The best part is, I don’t care if I win. It would be nice, but it’s ok if I don’t. I just want to see that hard work show!

Week 12 Day 7

So today was supposed to be the last day of the challenge, but things didn’t quite work out the way I wanted. I have two workouts to get done, and pictures are actually officially due by the tomorrow, so I’m going to try and get as much as I can done today, and use tomorrow if necessary, first thing in the morning completing the rest.

I got in a cardio session first thing this morning. I woke up just like the day before: wide awake and ready to jump out of bed. I had a couple hours before getting ready for church, so I just decided to go for a bike ride. It was a good start to my day!

I came home, got ready for church, and went. It was a phenomenal church service. And the best part was, I was able to see one of my students play his guitar for worship service. He had actually invited me to go, he just wouldn’t tell me why. But I knew better, and I knew he played instruments. So as “tough” as he may have tried to be while asking me, I knew he wanted me there. And I made sure I was there!

After church, we came home. We didn’t do much for several hours, but when sunset came (the end of Sabbath) we got ready to go to the gym. Unfortunately, we had no idea what we were in for.

We went to our regular gym which is usually open until 8 on Saturdays, but for some reason was closed very early today. So we went to the sister gym, around the corner and down the road but it too was closed early. Then we went back the opposite direction to a Gold’s Gym at a mall, but found out it would be $60 just for the two of us to drop in for the evening. There is no way we are paying that! So we then went back again, much further in the opposite direction to a YMCA only to be turned around once again because my husband didn’t have his wallet with ID because I was driving and not him. By the time this happened and we were walking out to the car, we decided we might as well drive the 1/2 hour to our old, faithful gym. And of course, it was open, reasonably priced as always, and to top it all off, wasn’t busy. They always keep great care of their equipment, and we fell in love with it all over again.

I completed a hefty back workout and another cardio session. I didn’t have the energy to do the leg workout right after the back workout, so it looks like I’ll be going to the gym first thing in the morning in order to get the last workout in before pictures.

We decided to go to eat, and go to a movie afterwards. We laughed very hard at our movie, and it was simply a great way to end the night.

Week 11 Day 4

God knew I’d need my car this morning. He knew my husband needed it to work last night. Because for the first time ever, my husband got called into work very early and I had to drive myself. The best part was, I was up so early so he could drop me off as per normal that I had time to eat, and take my time getting ready. I can’t lie, it was actually kind of nice!

Work went well today. It was busy, but everything seemed to be good. It was after school when things got crazy.

We had our second after-school tutoring session today and it seemed like a bigger mess to me this time than it did the first time. My head was swimming with names, grades and subjects trying to match up the tutors and tutees, and trying to make sure that everyone had someone to help them. We also had a few problems arise that we now have to address, but hopefully everything will run smoothly once those problems are dealt with.

When the students left, my room was a mess. Papers and pencils were everywhere, chairs all out of place, bins of books knocked over; it looked like a tornado had come through! I had to take a few minutes to clean it before I even decided to go home without any other school work. My mind couldn’t handle it tonight.

I got home (late) and expected to go to the gym right away. However, my husband was sleeping and did not wake up easily. In fact, we did not end up going to the gym until 2:30 in the morning! I know, we’re crazy; dedicated, but crazy.

I had a leg workout today and it didn’t quite start out the way I wanted. I had worked my squats back up to 95 lbs, even though it’s still a struggle. My form just is not right. But I’m tired of fighting my form and not being able to raise my weight.

Tonight was different because my husband came over to watch and give me constructive criticism. My form is terrible. I did more squats than normal, changing my foot placement, changing the placement of the bar on my back and shoulders, and making tons of different modifications to see what would help. It was more squats than I wanted to do, and we didn’t figure out the solution to my problem. But it was nice to work with my husband again, and more squats can never hurt… right?

The rest of the workout went well though it drained every ounce of energy I had. Between leg curls (prone and seated), leg extensions, leg press, bench jumps, calf raises (both seated and standing), plus several other exercises, you can bet I was walking funny by the end and knew the pain would be coming soon. It was a tiresome workout, but a good one.

I doubt I’ll go to sleep since we’re leaving the gym at 5, but we’ll just have to see what happens. One thing I know for sure is I’m leaving the gym STARVING and will be eating before I sit down at home. I have to feed this tired, muscle growing (I hope) body.

Week 3 Day 2

So today did not go at all like I wanted. I was so happy yesterday to defeat what I thought was the beginning of an cold or flu, only to wake up this morning feeling awful. AH! I did not escape it.

As a teacher, it is often much easier to go to work than it is to make sub plans. There is just so much work involved making sure your sub knows how to handle your class and is able to teach what you need. Needless to say, I went to work today.

I kept on track with my food at work. But I battled through small yet frequent headaches, up and down body temperatures, sneezing (I’m not allergic to anything, so this is a sick sign for me), watery eyes, sinus irritation, runny nose, etc… Can’t hide it anymore; I’m sick.

I somehow managed to finish the day. And came home to finally admit there was no way I could go to the gym tonight. Normally, I would fight through the bad feelings, but this is pretty bad. And I know the people at the gym will thank me for not going and spreading the germs. So I write to you from home, feeling not so great.

As far as diet, it’s had to change to accommodate my current situation. Which basically means soup, a warm drink with honey to soothe my throat (no caffeine, or very little), and some bread. Very basic means of nutrition.

Will I finish properly on my macros today? Definitely not. But there is no point in making yourself feel worse when your body already needs to recover. My body will get some protein, carbs and minimal fats from my broth soups and bread. It will get food that is easy on my stomach and digestion so that it can focus better on healing itself. Sometimes, you just have to get your priorities straight!