Grandma and Grandpa Cows - only part one

I have a list of blogs on my to-do list to write. I had great intentions to keep up with my writing this summer while in Michigan but then one month turned into almost two and things got, well, complicated. Add that to the fact that as soon as I was finished with work every day (on the computer, remember, I teach online) the last thing I wanted to do was stay behind the keyboard. There were grandneighbors to play with, baseball games to go to, bonfires to ignite and people to talk to. Always, so many people. I love that about home.

So I didn't blog a lot. And I'll try to do some remembering posts this fall. Goodness, it's fall already, isn't it. It seems strange. Mostly because it's 100 degrees here in Los Angeles and I'm literally sweating as I type this. But this is week four of school for Angela and her kiddos and it's September. There's talk of Halloween and baseball playoffs and all things crunchy leaved.

But as I get back into the groove of being behind my desk (which is different then being behind just the keyboard - I even have a new big time desk chair, with arms!) and at the computer, I'm feeling the need to write again. Because for me? Writing is life. Writing is like breathing. Writing is who I am and what I am and what I do. I write. It's that simple.

Plates Angela and I (and obviously Mom) made that hung in my grandparents' houses for years. They were Grandma and Grandpa Cows because, well, they had cows at their house when we were little. For kids, it's as simple as that.

But what's not so simple is the emotional side of things. In the past two months I've been, well, very emotional. I lost my grandfather in July. And then we buried him on a Monday. Angela and I were home for the funeral and home for the following week as it was still summer vacation. We spent so much time with my grandma that week. And it was such good time. We went out to lunch. We listened to stories. We cried. We laughed. Oh god did we laugh. It was so good. And then when we hugged goodbye on Friday I figured on the next trip we'd hear all about her planned casino escapade and her new girlfriends at her apartment complex. She couldn't wait to hear more about my pilot and my writing and she was excited that the Tigers were in contention for the pennant.

But that was all before the heart attack. And then? She passed away on August 17th.

I've lost grandparents before. I only have one left. (I started out life with six and a few great grandparents to boot.) But before I was younger. Or I didn't see my grandfather as much. But now I've lost the two grandmothers who have been a daily part of my life. I still reach to call the grandmother who's been gone several years. And now? Who am I supposed to call on Tuesday mornings?

She read every blog post I ever wrote. I know this because when I didn't post as frequently as she'd like she'd let me know. She read my screenplays and my novel. She told her friends about me and once spent quite some time bragging that I am friends with a celebrity to a cable repair man who could have cared less. When I called (she never called but she loved to talk on the phone, so much so) she'd be full of questions and comments and I knew that even though she feigned bad eye site she was hawkeye when it came to scouring her email and my Facebook page.

I really don't know what to do now. I feel like she's still out there. And I know, in a way she is. But I can't call her on the phone. I can't take her donuts from Quality Dairy anymore. I can't hear her say my name or give me a hug only a grandmother can give. Was it all good? Hardly. So much of it wasn't. But it's hard to remember that when all you can think of is the good. And right now the good is hard. Very hard.

So what do I do? (After wiping away the tears that are falling right now?) I check off the box marked 'blog about death'. I had no idea what this blog would be about when I started writing. Because, as I said, I'm simply breathing right now. I want to write more about these people who have been such a part of my thirty-plus years. But right now, all I can think about is how they're gone.

I've been around death my entire life. I lost brothers before I was old enough to realize I had brothers. I lost a grandfather before I hit double digits. My family owned a funeral home and we went to a big church and I was a regular at visitations and funerals before I ever knew exactly what they were. I've eaten and delivered my share of funeral ham. More than my share.

So, I guess this is a blog about death. It's been weighing so heavily on me for months that I felt like I needed to exhale deeply and let it all out. What ever it all is. And for today, I'm going to think that maybe there's a really good Ethernet cable connection in heaven and Grandma's reading this on a new laptop. And then maybe she'll get a good win in a game of solitaire. Then maybe the tears will stop for a while.