A Few Things on a Friday

March 2nd always means one thing for me and has for the last seven years: it's the day my grandma, Grammy, died. Every year it hits me in the same way, "I can't believe she's been gone for this long."

Because the truth is it doesn't feel that way. It feels like it happened a few days or weeks or months ago.

And then I think about the fact that she missed out on my college graduation, on my engagement, on my wedding... and now, my pending baby, and it doesn't seem so unreal that she's been gone for that long. It hurts more when I put it in that perspective, I think.

I hope that each one of you has someone like her in your life. For me, she equaled the best kind of love out there. She was fun and gracious and warm and caring, and whenever I catch myself being a total sassypants or (let's be honest) bitch, I try to channel her, because she was never those things. A rascal? Yes. But the best kind of rascal.

I felt it only appropriate I share "her song" with you all. My sister gets credit for making it such, because she was the one that burned it on a cd and blasted it while the three of us would jam out in the car. I have a distinct memory of an especially sweet dance sesh on the way to my Uncle Steve's 60th birthday, and whenever I hear this song, I think of her and it makes me happy.



I think she'd appreciate the image selected for this particular video, too.

Wishing you a wonderful weekend with the people you love most.

Happy Birthday, Papa Burt.

Photo courtesy of Deb at Smitten Kitchen

Today marks what would have been my grandpa's 90th birthday. He only made it to 80 and it still manages to surprise me how seemingly long he's been gone, as well as how it feels as though he only passed just a couple weeks ago. He died the day I moved to college and while I'd like to believe that 18 was relatively recent, the fact that I'm two years from 30 cannot be ignored.

I am a very different person from the one I was 10 years ago.

Sometimes I like to imagine what it would be like if he and my grandmother were still around. What it would have been like to have them at my college graduation. At my wedding. I used to say to them when I was little, "But you are going to live forever, thankfully!" to which my Papa Burt would always reply, "Elizabeth, if you live long enough, you're gonna die." He was pragmatic, if anything.

A man of very few words, he was a puzzle I knew like the back of my hand and one I could never figure out all at the same time. I still do, really, feel like I knew him so well and not at all. It's hard to explain.

There are things I have about him ingrained in my head that are vivid, and it's comfortable when a memory suddenly floods in. How he used to style his snowy white hair with Brill Cream. His tan or gray Members Only jackets and how he always smelled like Brut cologne. His love of Cowboy Western movies. His homemade vanilla ice cream. Playing "Clair de Lune" on the organ. 3 O'clock Diet Cokes, always with extra ice and a straw. Turbo speed in his light gold Saturn.

I realize how lucky I am to have had a set of grandparents like my Grammy and Papa. When you get older and start to see the intricacies of the world, you realize that not everyone is lucky to have wonderful grandparents (or even a mediocre set); amazing grandpas and grandmas are truly a thing to be treasured and cherished.

So while I will always greedily wish I had more memories, more time with him, I am forever grateful that in all the inexplicable luck, or destiny, or whatever you want to call it in the world, that he was mine.

That he was my grandpa.

Reflections on December 1st

First off, I've been thrilled at how many people have posted the video of Zach Wahls on Facebook in the last two days. If you believe in love and you believe in equality, what more is there to say, really? I'm happy I know many people who think this to be true.

Second, December 1st marks World AIDS Day. For the first nine years of my life, I was lucky to have a godfather, Chuck; we always called him our "fairy godfather". He'd send me and Ginny stickers in the mail just for the hell of it and would always call to ask about 'his girls.' I really, really loved him (and still do). He died of AIDS in 1993, and my sister and I talk about it now, how when you're a kid and you think you'll live forever, you can't empathize with your parent when she loses her best friend, which is what happened to my mom. It must have been awful for her.

In the early 90's, a lot of people were dying from this disease, and since huge advances in antiretroviral medication treating HIV have lowered death rates in our country significantly, it doesn't get talked about as much. To me, this day is always a good reminder that there are people throughout the world, men, women, children and babies, who do not have access to proper medical care, and die from it all the time. ALL THE TIME.

Finally, it has been an anxiety riddled week, which has bummed me out slightly because to me, this really is the most wonderful time of the year. December 1st (which is today, if you haven't had a chance to look at a calendar) is typically the day Kyle and I get our Christmas tree. I bake cookies, we listen to Sufjan Stevens' Songs for Christmas and decorate like chipper little elves (I may be the only one who resembles a chipper elf during this process, not gonna lie).

However, we're still only done unpacking half our stuff, and until we clear it out, we have to wait to get our magical tree. And start merrymaking festivities, of course.

So at this point I feel I should mention Kyle's mom, Cyndi. I have to say, I really hit the jackpot when it comes to mother-in-laws. She's a very thoughtful person and could tell how stressed I was, as well as bummed to not be enjoying the holidays in my usual style.

Lo and behold, she turned my frown upside down with a little gift yesterday:

Santa Gift Tags from Rifle Paper Co.

Red and white baker's twine (you can get it here).

Kraft paper

Cyndi surprised me with these goodies because (1) she knows how much I love Rifle Paper Co., (2) she also knows how much I love wrapping my Christmas gifts with kraft paper and beautiful twine and (3) she knew I needed cheering up and went out of her way to do so.

And truthfully, it kind of reminded me that at the core of the holiday season, it's not about decorating or music or elves or gifts...

It's about celebrating with the ones you love.

Thursday's Technical Melancholy

The outpour of grief and sorrow over the death of Steve Jobs has been kind of awesome to watch, hasn't it? It sounds kind of morbid to put it that way, but I feel one of the reasons humans scare death so much is because of the unspoken fear of being forgotten.

I am in awe of people who can evoke this emotion throughout the world, and Jobs definitely earned the respect, gratitude and honor. Even if you don't own an Apple product (which is a feat nowadays, so congratulations if you managed to not), the technology you use, the movies you see, the music you listen to were all touched in some way by his innovation and collaboration with others.

In watching the flood of sadness across all media outlets, social networks and blogs, I wanted to share a couple things that touched me most.

My favorite quotes (all which happen to be from the commencement speech he gave at a graduation ceremony at Standford in 2005):

"You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards, so you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something: your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever...because believing that the dots will connect down the road will give you the confidence to follow your heart even when it leads you off the well worn path and that will make all the difference."

"Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I have ever encountered that has helped me make the big choices in life. Remembering you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking that you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart."

And finally: "Stay hungry. Stay foolish."



Stay hungry. Stay foolish.