My Gammie, Mildred Catherine Stevens

The best kind of person to have in your life is someone you have so many memories with it is impossible to recount every one. Ironically, that also makes them the hardest kind of person to lose. Even though my Gammie lived for 90 years and 7 months, I will never feel as if I had enough time to share with her.

We were always very close. My positioning with her was God given, if you will, favoritism attributed mostly to the fact that out of 4 grandchildren, I was the youngest and the only girl. But our connection was more than that. Growing up I always knew no moment was complete until I shared it with her. No news that I had was ever received with more enthusiasm than when I told my Gammie about it. No one thought I was prettier, smarter or more talented than my Gammie did. If I was teased at school - which I was, often - she was the first to tell me that the other kids were just jealous of me. And she said it with such conviction that sometimes I even believed her. When I would visit her, the first 10 minutes were filled with her telling me how pretty I was or how much she loved me. Everyone needs that kind of love in their life.
Without her in our life, my mom, my brother and I would have been lost. Some may think it unfortunate that my mom had to move back in with my grandparents when we were young. But it was an amazing gift and a time I will forever feel fortunate for. Living with my grandparents meant every day after school I came home to a bowl of M&M's, Nickelodeon and my Gammie who was always there to be with Erik and me. It meant that after school when everyone else was being picked up in their mom's mini vans, my brother and I got to be picked up by a black Camero by our Gammie who wore leather pants and dangly earrings. Gammie made my brother and I special and unique. Everyone wanted a grandma like ours. One who favored playing tennis and wearing Poison perfume over their grandmothers who knitted and smelled like old wool.

As I got older and moved out of the house my Grandma's house was where I would return to when I felt like my world was spinning out of control. It was the one place I had on this earth where I felt safe. And like all wonderful grandparents do, my Gammie would make sure when I would visit that I had enough to eat and when I left her house I always left with more than I came with. Whether it be a bag of groceries foraged from her cupboard, coupons, magazines, candy or a few extra dollars to help me out. Gammie was my haven and my soft place to land. After our visit together she would walk me out to my car and as I drove away I could always see her lips moving as she said her ritualistic prayer for me which she was convinced would keep me safe, "Wrap Stacy in white, with Saint Christopher and Saint Jude on her shoulders."

Right about a year before my Gammie began leave the house less and less, she and I would meet for coffee every Friday before I went into work and before she got her weekly haircut. We would spend an hour every Friday sitting and talking. I loved those visits.

Over the past few years my Gammie's sparkle began to fade. She has been in and out of the hospital countless times. Many of which we didn't think she would make it out from. Our visits of lengthy talks and catching up were replaced by her circle of questions, "Are you happy?", "What have been up to?", "What do you do for fun...see any good movies lately?" And those questions would be asked over and over for the entire span of our time together. It broke my heart to let go of her little by little. It broke my heart to see her legs swell with fluid, to hear her constant coughing and wheezing. My Gammie never wanted to be old. She never wanted to be sick and in pain. She was like lightning, strong, fiery and electric. But time had reduced her to less than that and I knew it made her sad. She was trapped in a body that didn't match her spirit. For 90, she looked amazing but for Gammie, she looked sick.

This Christmas, although my Gammie still wore her pretty Chico's outfit and was decked out in all her usual accessories. She had two new accessories that made my heart sick - an oxygen tank and a wheelchair. I knew it wasn't long until she would leave me....until she would leave us. But I just don't know how to let her go.

My Gammie is vibrant and sparkly. She would enter a room of strangers but would leave the room with friends. And I loved her so very much. I know she was hurting, I know she was sick. I know she wanted so badly to let go but no matter what, I am not ready. Even though I feel like I have been trying to prepare myself for years, I am not prepared for this. I am not ready to let her go or to let her fade away. To do that would mean I too fade away because so much of what I am is because of her. She knew how much I loved her, she knew how much she meant to me and I know how much she loved me - which is why letting her go is so hard.

More Christmas Fun

Paul and Caroline mid flight
Me, Paul, Caroline and Paul's dad on the family boat cruise around Newport Harbor

Caroline, Paul and I at his Paul's Aunt's House.

Christmas Time Is Here

The Christmas Tree in All Its Glory

Jack's eyes don't like the flash either

Charlie guards his new bone

mmm...french toast breakfast, it's even yummier on Christmas

Santa Jack

Paul and his mommy

Charlie guards all his loot

Charlie loves his stocking treats

Charlie Waits...

I have two dogs who are each motivated by very different means. Jack is motivated by anything slightly edible. I say slightly because he has been known to eat paper, string, aluminum cans and even beautiful crown molding. Jack will do anything for food, he adores to eat and unfortunately due to extensive surgery he is voraciously hungry and relentlessly skinny. Charlie, on the other hand is purely motivated by attention. He is insanely jealous and wants to be the center of everyone's universe. He does however have one great new love, Paul. Whenever Paul leaves the house, no matter if it is a few minutes or even a few hours, Charlie sits and waits at the door staring at it intensely willing it to open. It is quite sad actually but also a bit promising, after all they say dogs are wonderful judges of character.

Another Day Up North

Now the story goes....the buffalo on the wall of this random breakfast place, somewhere between Morgan Hill and Half Moon Bay, actually talks. However when we were watching him he didn't utter a word. I am thinking he was probably worried about dropping his bow.

Bocce Time!

After a great birthday horseback riding we all rallied and went to dinner and to play bocce ball. I was so very tired but since the girls won the game and schooled the guys it was worth staying up.

After dinner and tiramibirthday cake I was still a hungry hippo.

An evening at the winery

After a long day at golf my mom, Tony, Paul and I went to the Clos Le Chance Winery to have some yummy turkey day left overs, drink some wine and listen to jazz...the jazz was a guy with a guitar playing cover songs of Jack Johnson but nonetheless it was a nice way to end the day.

My cute boys!

You Win Some You Lose Some

Last night was an amazing victory for hope and for this nation. While I do have reservations about Obama's lack of experience I believe that he has the wisdom, the heart and the determination to change the face of this country. And to that effect, we had someone in office for the past 8 years who had a great deal of experience and look where that got us! To say that this election is a moment in history is an understatement. The election is a long time coming tide of change and of hope. My Obama buzz was squelched this afternoon when I heard the news that the local tally's have been counted and Prop 8 passed.

I have driven past the Yes on Prop 8'ers every morning for the past few weeks. Their chanting, their determination of telling others that they are going to hell if they support gay marriage, their intolerance--all of it is stomach turning. "Preserve Traditional Marriage" is their belief. My question is, "What is traditional marriage?" America's divorce rate is more than 50% and last I checked that rate climbs each year. By that statistic traditional marriage is where two people get married, have children and then get divorced. Maybe I am out of line here but traditional marriage doesn't sound like it is working! Why would we want to preserve something that is so flawed anyway. Shouldn't we be focusing on passing something more effective like, "Institute a waiting period and compatibility test for all marriages?" Wouldn't it be better time spent if we focused on what was broken in our society and why most of our marriages are failing in the first place?

To make matters even worse, in Arkansas, a proposition was passed which forbids any unmarried couple the chance to adopt a child. I don't understand the mentality that gay people are incapable of raising a healthy, happy child. The sexual relationship of parents - as long as it is healthy - is of no consequence to the child's well-being. Let's face it no child wants to hear, see or think about their parent's having sex - regardless of whether or not their parents are gay. If I were a child allowed to pick my own parents, I would surely pick a household of acceptance and love over choosing a household solely because it came with a "traditional family". Taking away anyone's ability to adopt a child and provide a them with a loving and safe home is a tragedy.

It is clear that we are on the brink of much needed change in this nation. We have elected a black (half black) president and I can only hope that we continue that tide of change in the years to come. If we continue on this horizon who knows, maybe one day we will live to see the day when we have two first ladies. One can always hope.