Being Thankful And Giving Thanks

Grandma Pearl with my Uncle Kavin
and cousin Ryan, showing off the
yeast rolls they made

My grandma passed away in January at the age of 92. Since her passing, I really haven't blogged. I haven't done my usual Silent Sunday posts, and I haven't given my thoughts or perspective on what's been going on in the world. I just couldn't do it.

When Leonard Nimoy passed away just a few weeks after my grandma, I took it really hard.

Really. Hard.

I never met the man, and didn't know him personally, but his passing felt deeply personal to me. I felt a loss that I couldn't then, and still can't to this day, explain. All this is leading me to the subject of my post.

Today is Thanksgiving. A day where people get together with family or friends (or both) and enjoy life. They don't have to buy anything, they don't have to feel pressure to come with a gift. They simply come as they are.

Today is a day to be thankful for what you have. So, in the spirit of the day, I'm going to be as thankful as I possibly can for all the things I have, and try to find the hidden joy in the sadness that will surely try to creep in.

I will find the joy in the 36 years I had with my grandma. I will remember all the wonderful, loving things she did for me, for my brothers and cousins, for her children and extended family. I will not dwell on her absence.

I will remember all the Thanksgivings of my childhood with my large family all gathered around the giant franken-table in my grandma's dining room and kitchen. There were five kids, three sets of parents, and a set of grandparents (plus usually a minimum of two dogs roaming the house and) circling the table.

There was always so much food and laughter. I don't remember any specific conversations, just an overwhelming sensation of being loved, happy, fed, and cared for.

So, today, I am thankful for all the memories I am blessed with to keep me warm when the chill of sadness tries to move in.

Today I am making it a goal to help build memories with my girls so they have something to chase the chill away.

Because I am determined to stay warm today.

And I hope you can stay warm today, too.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

A Handful Of Danger

My Dearest Danger,

You are a full hand now.

We can now say "High Danger" for a full year when we slap hands.

You are a crazy, wild, whirl-wind of thoughts, stories, ideas, and motion.

You love so many things:

• Kittens

• Puppies

•  Zombies 

•  Ghosts 

•  Rainbows 

•  Glitter 

•  Princesses 

•  Horses 

•  Dolls 

•  High Fashion 

•  Chickens 

•  Riding Horses 

•  Dancing 

•  Singing 

•  Twirling

You are a force that I don't think the world will ever be ready for.

I love you Danger. Don't ever change.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Don't Grieve. It Is Logical.

Yesterday, people all over the world slipped from this plane to the next, but one person's passing in particular had an impact on me.

Mr. Nimoy may have been a stranger to me, known only because of his celebrity, but he didn't feel like a stranger. He felt like a friend, a relative, and his passing hurt like it.

I saw the news earlier this week of his admittance to the hospital with chest pains, and my own chest squeezed a bit. I hoped the severity was exaggerated. I hoped for a speedy recovery.

I didn't hear anything for a few days. Then, at lunch with friends on Friday, I was blindsided.

As we were collecting our things to leave, one of them said offhandedly, "It's too bad about Spock."

I froze. I knew what she was going to say. That knowledge made hearing it no less painful. He's always been there. I don't remember a time when he wasn't there. Logically, I knew time was running out.

I managed to keep it together until I got home.  I was heartsick. I am still heartsick. With each reshare, each status, each photo or quote from Mr. Nimoy, it was ever harder to not break down and cry. Post after post rolled across my feed, and I finally broke. I cried like I never have for a celebrity, because he was so much more.

Yes, he was Spock, but he also fought for women's rights. He was a photographer, and he created The Full Body Project. He directed movies (including two of the Star Trek movies) and wrote poetry.

I couldn't wrap my head around him being gone. I couldn't scroll through Facebook without weeping. I've never felt this for any other celebrity before. Finally, in desperation, I did as I'm sure many others had, I queued up Netflix and watched Star Trek II.

I watched and wept as he died from radiation poisoning and told Capt. Kirk, "I have been, and always shall be, your friend."

I watched Spock's funeral, and ugly cried as Capt. Kirk said, "Of all the souls I have encountered in my travels, his was the most... human."

I wished with all my heart that there was a real Genesis project, and that it would find Mr. Nimoy and give him back to us. "There are always possibilities."

But I knew, that wouldn't happen.

His final tweet was on Monday. "Life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" I have the feeling he knew his time had come.

He was an amazing person. He was an actor, director, musician, writer, photographer, poet, and humanitarian. He was known and loved by millions, and will be deeply missed by just as many.

He lived long, and he prospered.

"It's a far, far better thing I do than I have ever done before. A far better resting place I go to than I have ever known." ~ Spock

"He's not really dead as long as we remember him." ~ Bones