A Generation Passes On...

Grandma Lois passed away Jan 22nd. I got the email after my wrestling match.

Lois' daughter, Sherrie, had emailed Pop the day before. She told Pop that the hospice nurses thought it wouldn't be long and they weren't wrong.

Grandma Lois will be missed, but it was about as peaceful an ending as one could hope for. Grandma Lois was ready to go home to see Jesus and Grandpa Vern.

While this has been happening, Aunt Ellen (Grandpa Vern's sister) began to slip away for her final journey. She would pass to heaven on Jan 24th.

The funerals will both be held the final week of January. Unfortunately for me, that's the last week of wrestling season and the first full week of new students and new classes. I looked into a plane ticket, but I felt like my duties here prevented my attendance.

I do want to make it out to Nebraska to pay my respects. It just looks like it will be at a later date. I hope to bring Shane and Carrie with me, but I'll have to look into it more later on.

For now, my prayers are with the family and the days march on.

Grandma Lois' Visit

Grandma Lois is in town! Her flight leaves tomorrow morning, so we made sure to visit tonight. She was a great sport when I plopped Shane down in the chair with her, got out a book, and then secretly pulled out my phone for a quick memory.

The end of the video is my favorite. It's really cute!

It was great seeing Grandma Lois again for me, as well. It's been over a year since Matt's wedding and I don't get to visit Lincoln as much as I used to. I want to take Shane and Carrie there one summer, but it will have to wait until Shane's older. I'd want him to remember the trip and not drive an entire plane bonkers!

Pop and I pulled out the cameras for some quick snap shots before we had to head home for bedtime! Here's one of the pics I nabbed of Shane with his elders.

A Grandpa Vern Story

Wednesday, I was stuck in traffic and angry. People were swerving around, cutting each other off, pulling illegal maneuvers and generally telegraphing"I don't care about anyone else; I'm going to get what's mine and I don't care if it makes the situation worse for everyone else."

I happened to be on the phone with Grandma Lois on my 45 minute, 6 mile commute. My complaints reminded her of a story involving my grandfather.

Once, when Grandma Lois and Grandpa Vern were in Canada, they were in a long line. A man and his family waltzed their way up to the front of the line and cut-in without a second thought.

Grandpa, in his quiet manner, stepped out of line and walked over. He tapped the man on the shoulder and said, "In Nebraska, the line starts at the end."

Grandpa never raised his voice. He never made an angry gesture.

The man and his family turned around and went back outside.

Grandpa wasn't a big guy, but he could be the kind of guy that everyone listened to (boy, that would be useful as a teacher).

Grandpa also had a long list of catchphrases:

On how he could always nap: "Clean living and a clear conscience."

When asked where someone was: "Out among'em."

When asked where that was: "Down at the cornerfrickle by the tennifris."

When greeting an old friend "I'm glad you're here. You're the only one here uglier than me!"

He also had a patented chuckle.

I'm probably off on some of the quotes, so if you knew Grandpa feel free to correct me or chime in. He was on my mind this week/weekend after Grandma mentioned him.

Car Ride Conversations

One of the things I want for my son is a relationship with his great-grandparents.

I have no memories of mine. There are pictures; there are stories. I'm in them, but they're not in me. It's always struck me as a little sad. They influenced my early life, and I know they loved me. It's clear in the stories and pictures, but I want something more for my son (maybe that's par for parenting).

I love efficiency, and traffic where I live is anything but efficient. There's nothing like staring at another car's bumper and playing "How Many License Plates Can I Memorize?" It doesn't take long to start imaging all of the wonderful things I could be accomplishing if I wasn't inching along the roadways.

Something I started doing after Shane was born that has really enriched my life is using my commute to call loved ones. I was never a big fan of talking about myself, but now that I have a son I always have someone I like to talk about.

Who better to call than Shane's great-grandparents?

I want Shane's great-grandparents up to date in my son's life, and I want him to know them when he's older. I also want to keep up with them, because (surprise!) they're my grandparents, too.

There's (in alphabetical order):

Grandma Lois (so as not to confuse her with Grandma Carrie's Mom. Maybe Gran-gran would be better?)
Jama
and Mom-Mom.

Grandma Lois is a Cornhusker fan and proud Nebraskan (aren't they all?). Jama is from warm and sunny Beaumont near the Gulf (and where I get my excitability from). Mom-Mom is Carrie's grandmother who lives in Montana. Her husband was extraordinarily tall and probably the reason Shane is such a large boy (I'm about the same size as Pop-Pop and we aren't giants). They have all led full lives and are full of stories.

Now that I've started calling on my commute, I wish I'd started earlier. I enjoy talking to my family. Plus, they're always willing to hear my Shane stories. That's what grandparents do! I don't always have my phone on me (or charged), but when I do I always feel like a quick call can change a boring commute into time well spent.

Go Big Red!

My ADHD senses have been tingling while Carrie and I have been in Orlando. 

I keep seeing people from Nebraska. You know they're from Nebraska, because they always have a Big Red N somewhere on their clothes. 

But why are they all in Orlando? 

Next, I spotted a poster of a Nebraska football player outside the movie theater. Very suspicious...

It turns out the Bowl they're playing is in Orlando.

I shouted a "Go Big Red!" to a family we walked by in a strip mall. They laughed and waved back. It looked like they were looking for a place to eat, so I quipped "You won't find a Runza here!" The father laughed and  replied "Or a Valentino's!"

You won't get it unless you've been to Nebraska. I had to call my Grandma afterwards, because it made me think of her in Lincoln.

Go Big Red!