Can you believe it? I actually DID it! I read my tribute to Poppops at the funeral luncheon. All by myself. And I did ok - I only broke down twice... and both times, my dad was there for me to lean on. But I finished, and in the long run, I am glad I did it myself - I think Poppops would've been proud.
It was a really long week, and there were a lot of laughs and a lot of tears. It's never easy losing someone you love, no matter how old they are or how many times people tell you, "Well, he lived a good long life." I know he did, but that doesn't change the fact that life without Poppops seems really strange... I keep thinking that the next time I drive out to Naperville, he'll still be there - making popcorn, or offering me a beer, or asking me if I've found a husband yet (maybe some divine intervention would help now, 'kay, Poppops?). And then it will hit me that he's really gone. and I don't think the hurt will go away for a long time. But it is getting easier, and I know it will continue to get less painful as time goes on.
Ace is having a hard time dealing with the loss of his brother, too. Apparently he just realized that Baby was gone the day we got back from the funeral. Because he just sat there and cried. It tore my heart out. I don't know how many of you have ever heard a cat cry, but it is a really tough thing to hear. It's not a yowling, or a meow - it really is a cry... a long, sad wail. The timing was really bad too, since we just got home from Poppops' funeral. So I just held him for a while and tried to explain to him that Baby wasn't coming home (yes, I was explaining to my cat - doesn't everybody?) and now he sticks to me like glue. Literally. Anywhere I am that the dog can't get to - Ace is there. As in, I am tripping over him any time I am in the kitchen or the play area or my bedroom... and he sleeps on my pillow at night curled up as close to my head as he can get. I don't care what anyone says - animals definitely sense loss and have feelings. So to try to help him out a bit, I got him some catnip - which he loves. Lexie told me it was wrong to get the cat high to deal with the loss of his brother - but hey, he's a cat. And catnip is legal. And he was really happy. ("Sure he is mom," Lexie respondedwith disgust. "He's high!") In any case, I explained to Lexie that it is perfectly ok for cats to get high to deal with a death, but not for people to. Unless they use catnip. Tee hee.
And speaking of Lexie... Remember when I used to write about this sweet little tween daughter I had who sometimes gave me a tad bit of a hassle? I miss her!! Because I now have a sassy, smart-ass teenager who lives on the computer and her cell phone and who is planning to go to college somewhere she needs to take a plane to get to. And you know what? I have no idea how to do this whole parenting thing anymore! I mean, for some idiotic reason, I always thought "Hey, I'm going to be the best mom, totally cool, cause you know I've been there, done that with everything in life, and I will be able to relate to my daughter. And she will trust me, and tell me everything, and we will have this great relationship, and always get along. It will be awesome!" HA!! Fair warning to anyone who thinks this - no matter how cool you are, or how much you think you know about your child, your kid thinks you are a total loser and you know absolutely nothing about them. Don't get me wrong, I love Lexie more than life, and for the most part she is a really good kid... but the attitude? OH. MY. GOD. I have never wanted to smack the hell out of my child before - but lately? All the time. Which isn't to say I would, of course, but I now know what my mom meant when she always told me growing up I had a "tone." I believe this tone is something you really don't develop an ear for until you have a child of your own, because when I was growing up, I never heard it - and Lexie claims she has no idea what I mean by it, either. But as a parent? I don't even have the words to explain how much I HATE that tone. That "you are such a moron why are you even talking to me" tone. Which I basically hear every single day. Fun stuff, I assure you.
She will be starting high school next year, which really blows my mind. First of all, because high school? Seriously? My daughter? I don't feel old enough to have a daughter in high school... but I guess I am...! Secondly, because I remember high school. Very clearly. And if she tries to get away with half the things I did, I will have to kill her. Hypocritical? Maybe. But it's my right as a parent. So there. Hopefully she will keep on keeping on as she has been, because like I sai, really a great kid. Except for that damn tone...!
Finally, an update on TBOTE... I need to reread everything myself again, just to get back in the right frame of mind. So I am hoping to have another chapter within the next month. And actually, there aren't too many more chapters until the end... well, not another 40, at least. But I do plan a sequel - because it is much easier to sell a novel when there is a sequel. Or so I hear.
Ok, I think this is enough for now. I forgot how much I enjoy writing! And I've missed it. I guess it's just a matter of making the time, right?
Monday, January 19, 2009
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Poppops
Oh, my. 2009 hasn't exactly started out as a banner year... Poppops passed away in his sleep on Sunday morning, and then yesterday Baby had to be put down suddenly... he had developed keroacidosis, which is a complication from his diabetes. If I had a spare $800-$2000 a month, it could have been rectified - however, I just don't have that much cash. The way I look at it, Poppops must've wanted a companion up in heaven. Who knew he even liked cats? So I haven't been doing that well as of late. I just have to hope that things will get better.
And I was asked to speak at Poppops' funeral - which was a definite no go. I can barely watch someone win a reality show (ANY reality show) without getting weepy - there is NO WAY I could get through speaking at the funeral. So instead, my father asked if I could write something, and then we would have someone else (probably my brother) read it. Since blogging is my forte, I've decided to try to write something out here, and if it works - I'll use it. If not - it stays forever in cyberspace. You all just get the benefit of my attempt to memorialize the most amazing man I have ever known: Poppops.
My earliest memories of Poppops are of Wellington Avenue - Sunday afternoons to be more specific. There didn't need to be a birthday, or a holiday, way back when we just always got together on Sunday afternoons. Sometimes we would go early enough to hear him sing in the choir at St. Francis - although the choir was really just his back-up group. Popopps' voice always carried over all the other singers' - his heart and soul resounded in every note. Back at the house, we would play the marble-horserace game, or hide and seek, or organized games like volleyball or badminton if it was nice out. Running bases was always a favorite too, with my dad and Uncle Joe pretending to be aggressive in their attempts to tag out the swarm of approaching grandkids. When we got inside, there was always a hunt for the jar of Planter's peanuts, and plenty of popcorn, sandwiches on fresh bakery bread, and coffee cake for everyone.
Poppops would always be at the center of whatever we were doing - he loved his family and he loved attention. When he had an audience, he would pop out his teeth and then ask the little kids to try it themselves. (I think we all have at one time or another.) He claimed he stood on his head every morning to get the blood flowing, and would prove it to us at the drop of a hat. He even challenged the Uncles to a push-up contest once - and won. Poppops would gather as many kids in the living room as he could, and wind up every single music box Grandma owned - creating a cacophony of sound that made us kids giggle in delight and Poppops smile devilishly while Grandma yelled over the noise "Leo! Oh, For heaven's sake!"
As we got older, Poppops still played an active role in all of our lives. The house on Wellington was gone, and most of us were too old for running bases, but he still delighted us with his stories and his obvious lust for life. Nothing was ever dull when Poppops was around. And he had an opinion on everything. On the subject of gun control - "Outlaw guns. Guns miss. If someone breaks into your house, you should have a flamethrower." On airline security - "Just have two planes for every flight. That way if there is a bomb in someone's luggage, no one would get hurt." Ummmm - the pilot, Poppops? "Yeah, well - pay him more."
I think the most important thing about Poppops is he never judged you. If you were family - he protected you as strongly as a lion protects their cub. No matter how many mistakes I made in my life, Poppops always supported me, helped me - loved me. He was never shocked at any turn of events, he took everything calmly and did what he could to help. His love for his family was fierce, and unconditional, and we all felt it in everything he ever did or said. Poppops set an example of what a true patriarch should be - and he could never be replaced. Whether he is with us here on earth, or watching over us from Heaven, Poppops will always be the backbone of our family. And I for one will continue to live my life knowing he is watching, and will always hold him close in my heart.
GOD BLESS POPPOPS!
And I was asked to speak at Poppops' funeral - which was a definite no go. I can barely watch someone win a reality show (ANY reality show) without getting weepy - there is NO WAY I could get through speaking at the funeral. So instead, my father asked if I could write something, and then we would have someone else (probably my brother) read it. Since blogging is my forte, I've decided to try to write something out here, and if it works - I'll use it. If not - it stays forever in cyberspace. You all just get the benefit of my attempt to memorialize the most amazing man I have ever known: Poppops.
My earliest memories of Poppops are of Wellington Avenue - Sunday afternoons to be more specific. There didn't need to be a birthday, or a holiday, way back when we just always got together on Sunday afternoons. Sometimes we would go early enough to hear him sing in the choir at St. Francis - although the choir was really just his back-up group. Popopps' voice always carried over all the other singers' - his heart and soul resounded in every note. Back at the house, we would play the marble-horserace game, or hide and seek, or organized games like volleyball or badminton if it was nice out. Running bases was always a favorite too, with my dad and Uncle Joe pretending to be aggressive in their attempts to tag out the swarm of approaching grandkids. When we got inside, there was always a hunt for the jar of Planter's peanuts, and plenty of popcorn, sandwiches on fresh bakery bread, and coffee cake for everyone.
Poppops would always be at the center of whatever we were doing - he loved his family and he loved attention. When he had an audience, he would pop out his teeth and then ask the little kids to try it themselves. (I think we all have at one time or another.) He claimed he stood on his head every morning to get the blood flowing, and would prove it to us at the drop of a hat. He even challenged the Uncles to a push-up contest once - and won. Poppops would gather as many kids in the living room as he could, and wind up every single music box Grandma owned - creating a cacophony of sound that made us kids giggle in delight and Poppops smile devilishly while Grandma yelled over the noise "Leo! Oh, For heaven's sake!"
As we got older, Poppops still played an active role in all of our lives. The house on Wellington was gone, and most of us were too old for running bases, but he still delighted us with his stories and his obvious lust for life. Nothing was ever dull when Poppops was around. And he had an opinion on everything. On the subject of gun control - "Outlaw guns. Guns miss. If someone breaks into your house, you should have a flamethrower." On airline security - "Just have two planes for every flight. That way if there is a bomb in someone's luggage, no one would get hurt." Ummmm - the pilot, Poppops? "Yeah, well - pay him more."
I think the most important thing about Poppops is he never judged you. If you were family - he protected you as strongly as a lion protects their cub. No matter how many mistakes I made in my life, Poppops always supported me, helped me - loved me. He was never shocked at any turn of events, he took everything calmly and did what he could to help. His love for his family was fierce, and unconditional, and we all felt it in everything he ever did or said. Poppops set an example of what a true patriarch should be - and he could never be replaced. Whether he is with us here on earth, or watching over us from Heaven, Poppops will always be the backbone of our family. And I for one will continue to live my life knowing he is watching, and will always hold him close in my heart.
GOD BLESS POPPOPS!
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