Last week my grandmother celebrated her 96th birthday. Yesterday she was moved to Hospice.

In the midst of all the turmoil around recent events such as we’re having surgery, we’re not having surgery, we’re fine, we’re not fine, there’s a decision to make, no let’s wait for the doctor… it’s occurred to me that it’s hard to be sad for a woman who is dying at the age of 96.

At 96 there is no more “what might have been”. She has seen and done almost everything significant in life there is to do. She has

Been a child, teenager and adult.

Married and then been widowed for 30 years.

Been a mother, grandmother and great-grandmother.

Seen her grandchildren get married and have children of their own.

Gone to camp as a child and at the age of 80.

Written letters to the White House AND gotten a response.

Traveled by plane, train and bus. But never driven a car.

Outlived all her family and friends.

Actually found a grandchild who could be taught to knit.

Been alive for more presidents than I can count on two hands.

Worked and retired.

Volunteered and given of her time and talents.

Kept the business of printing $2 bills alive.

Loved us all. Those she came by naturally, and those we brought into the family. She loved us all the same.

It is sad that Leah and Benjamin won’t know her as well as the grandkids do, but when the time comes to finally say goodbye to Grandma, it will only be through a few tears – mostly because she’ll get to see her beloved husband again after all these years. And she’s needed more there than here now.

Don’t worry, Grandma. We’ll be fine. You did a great job.

And we’ll take it from here.

Update: My grandmother died tonight surrounded by those she loved and who loved her. Think she read that last part? And tomorrow night we will toast with a pina colada (her favorite drink) and a shot of Hennessey (his favorite) to a love rejoined. I can only imagine the smile on their faces…

Let’s just say that waking up at 6:30am was a little harder than she thought it was going to be.

But then we rallied and were out the door!

She’s like an old pro now. Yeah, yeah, backpack. Yeah, yeah, lunchkit. No you don’t walk me in. Whatev, Mom – I’m a second grader now.

Yeah? Well you’re still a goofball.

Okay, folks! It’s audience participation time! My lovely new-ish iPod will arrive on my fairly unswept doorstep tomorrow.

Tell me: What song MUST be on it?

No! Wait! Here are some categories to consider:

Driving song – hit the open road music

Feeling reflective song – coupled with others it may make you cry

Shake What Yo Momma Gave Ya – just makes ya want to shake your hips

Open Category – name your own tune

Leave ‘em in the comments!

Dear Benjamin,

How has (more than) 30 days flown by? Wait, let me retract that statement because now that I think about it, this has been a rich 30 days.

This month you went on your first road trip all the way to Austin, TX – where we would hang out for a few days before dropping off Leah at her camp. You got to play with some very fun cousins, go on your first speedboat ride, decide swimming in the lake was not your cup of tea and make it more than perfectly clear that road trips are INDEED not your thing. I wish you’d figure out how to get over that last part – Texas has some pretty cool places to head to – but not with a screamy, whiny two year old.

You missed Leah very much. Oh, my G-d did you miss her. For days on end all we heard was, “Sissy? Sissy? SSSSIIIISSSSSYYYYYY????!!!!!” Since she has come home your life is yet again complete and the running, jumping and silly word contests have picked up right where the two of you left off.

On top of all of this your language is really beginning to just explode. Every day is a new word – or better yet – a clearer word and your speech teacher(s) could not be more excited for you. You still have some very cute mispronunciations – the most notable this month are “See-you” (store) and “Sussy” (Sunni, the dog). You LOVE going to speech class. Daddy didn’t quite understand why, so I took the video camera along one day to show him the carnival that masquerades as learning.

Untitled from Pammer on Vimeo.

You remain unbelievably active – and I have the grey hair to prove it – but you are remarkably easy when it comes to things that are usually not so easy. Namely bath time and bed time. You basically love both. Which? Is kinda unheard of. And? I totally dig. Even our newest little teenager girl babysitter told me, “OMG I will totally babysit for you WHENEVER! He is so EASY! He just, like, DOES THINGS!”

Uh, yeah. What she said.

In another week you will start your regular “pre-pre-pre school” program by going to class for three half-days a week. This will not be a big deal for you because you already know the school and teacher from a short camp session you did early this summer. And, really? You need it. Camp Mommy is wearing thin on both of us and it’s time for some new faces and new activities. It’s hard to compete with speech class, man. Just, please, don’t beat the shit out of the other kids, okay?

Every night before dinner we say the hamotzi (thanks for the food and such). Usually we just say it and move on, but one night after Leah came home from camp, we sang it like they do at summer camp – and, as it turns out, at your little school/camp. Your little face LIT UP when you recognized the tune. It was almost like you were trying to say, “YEAH! That? Right there?! I KNOW THAT!” You clapped your hands and smiled and cheered at the end and even ended the show with an “Ameeen!” (Pronounced just like that, by the way.) You are starting to follow along with our good night prayers adding your own “special blessings” section that almost always includes Leah and Thomas the Train. And that? Kinda melts my heart.

Benjamin, this month you have done some extraordinary things. But each day with you is downright extraordinary. Thank you for all the hugs and kisses, outstretched arms and nosey-nosey games. Thank you for the morning snuggles and afternoon dancing and for helping put the produce in the bags at the grocery store. You do all of this with a great big bright smile and make these multiplying grey hairs tolerable.

I love you,

Mommy

Last weekend I turned 38.

For several months I had been dreading this birthday – and I’m not totally sure why. For awhile it felt like the beginning of a downward slide, which is mostly ridiculous, but I think really it’s because it became a real sign-post for the beginning of the end of my 30s.

Again, ridiculous.

If you were to look at my resume, you would notice a very prevalent theme of “re-invention”. I believe I can count 4 or 5 distinct “careers” on that piece of paper. (Take that, Madonna.) As this birthday began to rear its head, I began to think about how I am reinventing myself this time. Beyond being a “stay at home mom”, and this attempt at getting paid to write, I am, without a doubt, trying to do something that would, without question, fall in the category of “starting from scratch”. And I haven’t done that in quite some time. Not only that, but I am stepping WAY out of the box.

On Monday I start a drawing class as part of a jewelry design curriculum at the museum.

I think I’ll just let that sit there for a minute. Huh. Yep. I am. Dude.

I believe this “end of my thirties” thing is starting to equal “try something totally different and let’s see where it goes.” And I have no idea. I may suck. I hope I don’t, but I might. And that’s kind of okay. At 38 I’ve gathered enough grace to realize I can admit that I might suck and move on.

If you ask me what I’m good at, I can give you a litany of things. Really. Just ask Husband. He’s very clear on them. I can also tell you what I’m not good at. (He is also very clear on those as well.) I think that is a critical skill to being successful in life. You’re not good at something? No problem. Find someone who is. And get out of their way.

But this thing I’m about to go do? No idea what list it’s on. You might find my line in Neiman Marcus one day – or on QVC. Or you may find it at a garage sale. Who knows? I could not be more unprepared for the feedback I’m going to receive from my professor.

But I can’t wait to find out.

Several of you guys are paying attention. Yes, indeed, Husband did say her name in that video.

I’d like for you to meet Leah. And her freckles. She is The 2nd Grader Formerly Known As The Swimmy.

She was named after our paternal grandfathers, Lou and Louis (no I’m not kidding), and while her name in no way rhymes with Benjamin, she is Benjamin’s most favorite person in the world.

She’s definitely one of mine as well.

Altogether now…Hi, Leah!

So it doesn’t make a ton of sense to hide Swimmy’s name and use Benjamin’s. I’m going to tell you her name, but thought it might be fun for you to guess first. Maybe there’s a prize. I’ll even give you a few hints:

1. It’s biblically-based.

2. The first letter is for both our paternal grandfathers.

3. It doesn’t rhyme with Benjamin.

Leave your guesses in the comments!

Yes. The Swimmy got home from camp.

Yes. She had an amazing time.

Yes. I am way late with this story.

In the middle of the hoopla of trying to pick her up, “hurricane” Edouard showed up. And, yes, hurricane should be lower case and in quotation marks because that was one weak ass storm by Houston standards. (Not that I’m totally complaining – I’ll take that over “Shit my furniture is floating down the street” any day. And twice on Sundays.)

So, needless to say, our logistical plans changed a bit and Husband decided to go up to Waco the night before so he could be the first one at the gates when they opened and could grab her and get back home.

He was number two and slightly disappointed. I was totally sad not to be there to see her running across the camp to say hi and sweep her up in my arms with a hug that would probably later cause me to be on painkillers for a back injury. Either way it worked out fine.

As I had guessed she came running and stopped only 2 steps in front of Husband to begin to cry that she had lost her favorite blue headband.

A normal trip back from Waco takes roughly 2 ½ hours. Husband decided to play it safe and drive towards Austin then down to Houston which means that the 2 ½ hour trip actually ended up taking close to six hours – but she was a real trooper about it.

Here’s Benjamin seeing her for the first time in 10 days. It is something I will remember forever.

Ben Sees Sissy Aug 2008 from Pammer on Vimeo.

The next hour was spent unloading luggage and sorting laundry and wondering if there was any grass left at camp because based on what was on the floor of our utility room she brought every blade home with her. She showed off her arts and crafts projects, talked about all the fun adventures she had, who her new friends were, how silly her cousins are and said she missed pizza the most and wanted it for dinner.

She has this thing for mail now. She loved writing it and really loved getting it and is now terribly disappointed when there is none for her each day.

I didn’t know what to expect when she came home. Would she be sassier? Would she want to do EVERYTHING herself? Would she be clingy? The truth is she came home the same hilarious kid that left 10 days before. She was tanner, a little bit taller and, yes, a little bit more capable, but all in all she came back happy. And that’s all I asked for.

When I asked her if she wanted to go back she answered, “YES! But not tomorrow. Next summer will be fine.”

Not a problem, honey. Next year will be just fine.

The next morning she slept until 9:15.