No regrets

A couple of days ago, it snowed. I love stepping outside and smelling the crisp air, scrubbed clean by the falling snowflakes. And I love love love the way the midnight sky looks right before a snow storm and the smell of burning wood as people light the fire places to escape from the cold.

It smells kind of like grandma and grandpa's house...well, exactly like grandma and grandpa's house.

My favorite memories are of Thanksgiving at their house when I was a kid. Grandpa would be watching the Macy's parade while Grandma finished up in the kitchen. We're a HUGE family and it was a feat to cram all of us into their house, but we managed to do it.

If I had known then that my Thanksgiving meals with the two greatest people in the world were numbered, I would have appreciated them a little bit more. Instead, I took it all for granted.

For me, the holidays are a time of spiritual reflection. I've lost many important people in my life and eventually, I learned that you are doing yourself a disservice if you are taking life for granted. The last phone call I had with my dad wasn't life altering, though I wish it had been. I wish I hadn't assumed that he was invincible and was going to be around for eternity. I wish I would have told him that he was a great dad and then I would have told him how much I loved him. Hindsight is 20 / 20. The best you can do is learn from your mistakes and move on.

I had the unique opportunity in gaining closure with my grandma, though her mind was so far gone, I don't know if it made a difference to her or not. But practice makes perfect and before grandpa died, I made sure he knew that he was loved and that the world was made a better place because he was in it. And I am eternally thankful for that.

A couple of years ago, Grandpa had a stroke. He was in rehab when the nurse said we could take him out for the day. I had offered to spring him from the joint and take him to Cracker Barrel for a lunch date. (That's another thing I am thankful for...my dates with grandpa.) I got to the hospital early but apparenlty, he wasn't supposed to leave with me that day. The nurses were late getting him ready and then they had to take a catheter in his arm out, so it wouldn't get infected. But they had taped it on to his arm pretty good and it wasn't coming off. The nurse had to take another 30 seconds to get some scissors and then grandpa had another stroke...while I was standing right there.

He started slurring his words and leaning to one side. I remember looking at the nurse and saying "something is not right. Catch him." She hurried to get him a wheelchair and he had to spend another 2 weeks in rehab.

I told my Aunt Lola that at that moment, I wanted an adult to be there. She goes "Honey, you are an adult."

What? When in the hell did that happen?!? More importantly, why wasn't I notified?

Somewhere along the line, I stopped sitting at the kiddie table and moved up to the grown up table. Now, it is up to me to create memories for Matthew so that when he is older, he can look back and say that he was lucky to have learned early on to live life with no regrets.