February 7, 2010
Here is his memorial video. It’s a bit long, so I don’t expect any of you to watch it, but I wanted to post it for my family out there that will not be at his service(s) this weekend.
A huge thank you to my aunts and uncles that helped gather and send pictures.
-Tracie Bea
February 4, 2010
I was lucky enough to grow up with two grandfathers. Poppa Ted, who recently passed this fall, and my Poppa Ray.
While each one was special in my heart, they each had their own little parts of it to themselves.
My Poppa Ray was always the guy in the basement, organizing his jars of nuts and bolts, or the one who set up the super8 projector and showed us hours and hours of slides. Later in his life, dementia set in, right about the time this specialty was also on my career path as a nurse. He turned into a very charming and darling old man… delightful in his forgetfulness.
I would call him at home once a week, while my Grandma left him to work.
“Hi Poppa, it’s Tracie Bea from Minnesota!”
And each and every time he would say “Ohhh!! Tracie Bea!!! How are you?” like we were the best of friends.
Even in the late stages of his disease, my greeting still seemed to connect the dots for us.
From pancakes on the 4th to Gnomes in the yard… to stacking newspapers with him on the coffee table… we had some good times.
One of my silliest and funniest moments was when I was having breakfast with him. He had gotten to the stage of his disease where he still had the words, but often they were the wrongs one, got stuck on the way out, or he simply invented one to suit his needs. Toothbrushes became “that scratchy thing” and a drink request might have gotten shortened to “you know, that cold thing” etc.
That morning, at breakfast, he had 4 boxes of cereal in front of him. He studied them for a long time, and my Gram giggled in passing, explaining “I just leave him in the cereal aisle while I shop, he takes forever to pick out a box. haha. “
“Hey Poppa,” I asked. “Why did you pick out that cereal?”
He sat for a minute, then looked at me.
“I like my cereal a little bit chompy.”
I was not sure what he meant at that moment, but we went on to enjoy our breakfast.
We’re sitting there, sipping on coffee and talking about the weather.
I stopped for a second, and realized what I was hearing; it was Poppa Ray… mouth full of cereal, carefully selected from his choices…
some super crispy crunchy granola noisy cluster thing.
::::Chomp Chomp Chomp::::
Yup. Chompy.
After a long battle with Alzheimer’s, my grandfather passed away today,
with his wife and family all around him.
I’ll miss you Poppa.
Love,
Tracie Bea from Minnesota
January 31, 2010
Any ideas?
Cuz “yoo-hoo ‘ya stinky slimey swimming thing you” just does not have that ring to it,
when I call it for supper.
January 27, 2010
Thanks in part to my friend “Rock” I’ve been able to hone in on daily life with a toddler, and all it’s challenges.
Here are some of the “conditions” moms are subjected to daily:
The Wet Noddle:
Toddler collapses onto the floor out of protest and/or fatigue. Combined with exhaustion their limp body then goes into containment device, such as their crib, for nap time. This results in a full-on meltdown (toddler and mama both.) ugh. The Wet Noodle.
The Tender Flump:
Toddler realizes you’re not going to let her have more play-dough and instead of painfully flinging one’s self on the floor, Toddler gently lays down on said floor, makes sure head won’t hit anything, and proceeds to loose her chit.
The Early Nipper:
During aformentioned Tender Flump, Haggered Mama contemplates reaching her in apron pocket for a little nip. It’s not 5′oclock anywhere, and the pot roast ain’t gonna cook itself.
Canine Transferance:
Toddler is feeling emotional regarding the removal of [ insert toy name here ] because it’s time to get ready for bed. Innocent Dog meanders through room. Innocent Dog, albeit a stinky farting one, gets cracked over the head with nearest available object. Toddler chuckles at her accomplishments and aim, and attempts to repeat for another giggle.
Beans in your ears:
Toddler is not happy with meal offerings for the Nenth day in a row. Toddler forcibly removes all items from highchair tray, most via Projectile Method, and installs remaining vegetables in one’s ears. Toddler pours milk out on head to make an additional statement.
The Sike Sleep
Naptime cometh. In some cases, the sippy cups are getting cleaned out for chardonnay. Toddler is suspiciously a willing participant, bidding goodnight to the dog, and saying “bye bye” to the fish. Sleep sack and blankets properly applied. Fond words said as mom leaves the room.
10 minutes later Toddler is screaming to get up, and reciting the intro to Yo Gabba Gabba over and over again. Sike. No sleep.
Motherhood. Clearly defined.
January 25, 2010
The colors of the rainbow…
so pretty in the sky.
Are also on the faces
of the people going by.
January 22, 2010
If you live under a rock, or on top of one…
last week American Idol let an Atlanta civil rights activist/oldie by the name of General Larry Platt, do his ‘thang on the show for the judges.
Viral infection. On da ground.
HERE is where you can see that version, or just enjoy the pants off this one:
January 20, 2010
One of my favorite things lately is when Ava “shows me her moves.” She seems to really work on new dance steps and likes to show off.
I have no idea where she gets such a trait.
None.
One of my other favorite things is to think of all the activites, lessons, hobbies, etc. that I can push on my child.
You know, because I didn’t get to do them myself.
This is right up there with the evolution and effectiveness of bribing, and using the phrase “Because I said so“
and “we’ll be there when we get there” in appropriate situations.
No, she won’t be in pageants. I hate makeup and little girls with “flappers” and spray tans creep me the eff out.
I might shove a cello at her, to see what she does. She might learn 3 languages, because she picks up on them quickly.
Who knows.
But the girl is GOING to get herself in an Irish Dance Troop. I’m already saving Uncle Blooper’s hair trimmings for the curly wiglettes.
Here’s the start of her master footwork:
I hope you dance, Ava Claire.
January 18, 2010
(since I have some new readers, HOLA! @ Anissa friends, I’m recycling a funny from a while back, while I think of something interesting to share. It could be a while. het. If you want more of our Around the World adventure tales, just sort by that key word on the right side. I talk a lot, there’s plenty to read. Enjoy!)
No, not a new law firm. Just another Irish tale.
:::sip:::
Let me start by saying I love that man of mine. Even when he does loose his mind, and grows a ’stache.
The 1st picture was taken in Turkey, in mid-2006. After four months in SE Asia, we continued to make our way west (until we hit Wisconsin) and stopped in Croatia, Turkey and Dubai UAE. Turkey was a delightful surprise. We really didn’t know much going into it, other than the men were hairy, and we didn’t hold out much hope for more. But the city of Istanbul was AWESOME, and the rest of the country was charming, beautiful, and quite easy to get around. (the one time we booked just about the whole place on a tour, we were tiReD.)
The unique thing about Turkey, was that EVERY man had a mustache.
Long, dark, scruffy, crumb-catching mustaches.
Even the cats joined in. (where IS that picture?)
We had a blast taking pictures of the staches, buy the book if interested.
So the Great’StacheFest of 2006 came and went, and I thought that was the end of it. Not a furry-face-lovin’ gal myself, I knew I would never have to face this in my own personal life, for Davez is a fair-skinned german lad, with pretty much locks of blond.
Then one day, he announced he was angry at me.
Pick a number. What for?
I didn’t notice he had grown a mustache.
Um, ah doy. You can’t see any hair on your face. ‘You EVER heard your wife say the words “honey, go shave.” ? Huh, have you?
I didn’t think do. You and me kid, we’re grateful for our fairness. I don’t shave my legs, and you don’t shave your face. That’s fair.
But low and behold, Davez had gone Dangle on me.
<
He kept it for a few days. I’d laugh at it daily, thinking the heckles might spur it’s tone darker. He would stroke it with his thumb and forefinger, like he was really intelligent and had a great thought.
He did not. Well, at least I don’t think he did, but you could hardly hear those thoughts through my laughter.
Co-workers would walk by and gently point out he had something on his lip from lunch. Another would prairie-dog over the partitions and giggle himself.
But ol’ Dangle Davez had the last laugh. He shaved it off when no one was looking.
Trouble is… it took us all about 2 weeks to notice.
January 10, 2010
Just when I thought I’d seen every cute kid in the world, this one comes along and shows them all up.
A mere week and a half old, Little Miss Em, and her hair, were a joy to click on.
See?
January 5, 2010
Ava had a blast “herding” them around, and pouring them “tea” and showing them her bears.
For the 1st four minutes.
Then? She got their coats and said “bye bye. bye bye babe-beez.”
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