These Are Days

My baby sister is about to have a baby.

I’m a mom of a toddler.

I’m married to a wonderful man and we live in Santa Monica, California.

Crazy.

The sweetness of life right now is making me think about death. Cheery, I know. These major life events and making new memories reminds me of those who shaped my childhood memories, some of whom are no longer with us.

My grandparents passed away in 2000 and 2002. They never met Evan. They did not see me get married. They will never meet Ian. Ian will never go to their house for Christmas and eat shrimp cocktail and listen to The Carpenters and play with the toy slot machine. He won’t play dress up or play grandma’s organ or “take a jacuzzi”.

Death doesn’t suck so much right when it happens necessarily. With both my grandparents, they were very sick and were not going to get better, so as much as you don’t want them to go, it is very clear that they are suffering and you want there pain to end. So at the time they passed, there was sadness mixed with relief and closure.

The suckiness of death comes in waves as you remember, oh yeah, I’m NEVER going to see them again. I can’t pick up the phone and hear their voices, EVER. I can’t sit at their kitchen table and eat fresh corn and listen to The Carpenters and rummage through their bread drawer trying to find those French vanilla sandwich cookies that only seemed to exist in their kitchen.

My grandfather strung Christmas lights for days. My grandmother started baking for Christmas in October. We dressed for dinner and said grace and had gravy boats. They had Santa toilet cozies, people. Santa’s face would be smiling up at you from the closed toilet lid, and when you opened the lid, Santa was covering his eyes with his green mittens.

How can I possibly recreate this? What will Ian’s memories be?

If my grandparents were still here:

They would LOVE Dancing With The Stars

My grandpa would own every Apple product. And he would text.

He would love my husband. His crazy smart brain and technical ability and his passion for filmmaking.

Grandma would love my culinary passion. She would be a guest blogger. I would document her making pies and cookies and her perfect lamb gravy.

Grandma and grandpa's house they designed and affectionately known as "Sugarbush".
Grandpa and I taking a swim.
First birthday.
Second birthday. I think I have a little more hair...
Third Christmas. First black eye. Chasing Hofing's cat. The cat won.
Summer evening on the screened-in porch. Grandma taught me how to whistle.
McDonalds birthday. I'm five.
Dress up was our favorite pastime.
This one is so bad it's good.
Seymour. Best cat ever.

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