I was a kid. What did I know?

In reviewing the pee-in-the-Snapple-bottle incident, I have realized that I don't have any "stupid things I've done" stories. If I do, they are so repressed that only a very good shrink could jar them loose. However, there is one quick story in my past that gives people a chuckle so I figured I'd share (and it's not vomit inducing, so everyone relax).

I think I was in fourth grade, so I must have been about 9 or 10 years old. I don't remember much about the day, just this brief moment when my mother yelled down the hall to me "Kathie, go in the kitchen and get me a phillips screwdriver." So being the helpful daughter that I am, I head right to the "tool drawer" in the kitchen, squat down and start sifting around for the screwdriver. I probably looked for a not even a minute, and I see some screwdrivers but not what I thought she wanted. I stand back up and yell back down the hall to her "Mom! I don't see any Phillips! I only see Stanley!!"

A short pause then just raging laughter fills the house. I'm standing in the kitchen looking extremely confused. What was so funny? I just reported back my findings. Finally, Mom comes into the kitchen with tears streaming down her face, short of breath because the laughter has barely subsided. When she calms down, she explains the whole phillips head vs flat head screwdrivers. How was I supposed to know? I was freakin' 10! I find the humor in the story now, but back then, not a chance.

Fastforward to being 25 years old, playing summer softball in North Syracuse with a small fan club on the bleachers. I am standing on the mound, getting ready to wind up for a pitch, and this loud, bellowing laughter came from Lori Signor (sp?), and those of you that know Lori's laugh know what I heard as I was trying to pitch. So after I made it through the inning, I head to the bleachers to find out what the heck was going on. Mom had given up the Stanley story to Lori and the others in the crowd who all got a kick out of it. I hadn't heard the story in a while, so it was amusing after I got over the initial embarrassment of new people hearing of my ignorance.

The Stanley tale has a better chance than the Snapple bottle night of getting a commercial deal, in my opinion; but I am not ready to go National via a more popular medium.

His Legacy

Losing a close family member is not only tremendously sad, it feels very bizarre to me.

My grandpa, mentioned in my previous blog, past away on Saturday, Feb. 5, 2005. He was 87 years old, and saying he had a full life doesn't come close to describing it. I knew him pretty well, but I still learned so much about him over the last week. He loved the outdoors (camping, fishing, water skiing - which he even did when he was 70 to prove he could still do it!), traveled to 49 states (to Alaska three times) and all the Canadian provinces, knew how to sew on a sewing machine that is well older than me, knew how to fix everything, was a builder from toys to quilt racks, and never smoked, drank or even swore. He wasn't perfect (he was pretty stubborn but I know LOTS of people like that), but he was pretty close to it I would say.

Yesterday scores of people came to pay their respects and say good-bye, and many stuck around for the memorial service, which triggered my hardest tears of the day. My cousin, Jeff, got up to say a few words, and gave this quote: "Character is what you do when nobody is looking"; in Grandpa's case, he had tons of it. He truely was a great person and loved by many. He set a great example for our family, and I hope we have and can continue to live up to it.

It's going to be weird not to see him at family gatherings. He has always been there, and after 29 years of having him around, I will miss him so much. This spring we will have a graveside service, and it may include a Color Guard as Grandpa was a charter member of the Otisco Fire Department. That will be a great honor, and he definitely deserves it.

Good-bye Grandpa Russell. We will miss you.

A lengthy blog to a lengthy week!

It's Friday and I can NOT wait for the weekend to relax. HA! Like that'll happen.

Sunday January 30th started out with a trip to Red Robin in Albany (or somewhere around there; I am not sure where Javen and Justine took us. I saw narrow roads and trees so I thought they had had enough of our visit and were going to dump us off). Anyway, we ate delicious onion rings, huge burgers, and some of the best steak fries around! Then we headed to the mall to visit Steve and Barry's and the Christmas Tree Shops (two guys, two girls; guess which store goes with which gender). After our relaxing afternoon in Albany/Schenectady, we headed back to the 'Cuse as I had a soccer game to get to. I needed to work off all the food consumed in two days and sweat out my hangover. I couldn't make the game afterall.

On the two hour trip home, I happen to call my cousin who plays on the same soccer team to ask her a question on the game. Her husband reported to me that she had just left for the hospital with her parents (my Aunt and Uncle for those keeping score) because my grandfather was taken in. My Dad had taken him in thinking G'pa had pneumonia, and called my Aunt and Uncle to let them know things were pretty bad and they better get to the hospital STAT! I immediately felt a wave of panic and the flood gates opened. He has been in the hospital before for pneumonia, but this sounded WAY more serious.

We weren't even on the road 10 minutes; I thought maybe he can hold on for two more hours. My G'pa is 87 years old; I had just seen him two weeks prior at his birthday party. And every day I think about him, hoping that when this day comes, I'll be able to handle it. I grew up living next door to this G'pa and G'ma, and visited frequently especially in the summers when I was home everyday, all day (the "Vacationing Queen" as my sister liked to call me). Even now I try to visit often; it's not as much as I should but I make it to every holiday and family birthday gathering, and trust me, there are LOTS! We are a tight family, and the proof was in the pudding when I finally made it to the hospital.

I walked into the ICU waiting room to find 9 other family members: G'ma, Dad, aunts, uncles, cousins. My sister lives in Virginia and would've been there without a doubt if she could (I know this b/c I gave her updates what seemed like every hour that evening/night; and she now knows the schedules of each family memeber visiting the hospital and calls NY frequently for updates and passes them along to me!). Anyway, my Uncle Dale informed me that G'pa actually had a heart attack. Not 5 minutes later the doctor walked in to give us all the update. G'pa's heart attack had actually started at about the time my Dad went to see them at 12:30pm and he was still having the heart attack; at this point it was around 6:30pm. The heart attack coupled with an underlying case of pneumonia - not a promising forumla. But the doc was optimistic after running some tests and seeing some good things (so much medical jargon was thrown out at this point, I was lost). But when I heard the doc say "I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt", I had hope...despite the fact the doc also said "dire straits" twice. Phooey - the only Dire Straits I know includes a curly haired man singing about money for nothing.

So we all sat and waited some more. My Dad informed me that my g'pa had even been skeptical about the situation earlier in the emergency room. G'pa apparently made the statement I don't think I'm going to make it through this one; of course my eyes welled up and I had to look away from my father. About 30 minutes after the doc's update, they said we could go see him. We went in shifts as ICU rooms aren't actually big enough for a family reunion. I was glad I got to see him that night; nothing about it freaked me out. If anything were to happen after I left, I was glad I had been there at the end. Fortunately, the end wasn't that night. The docs and nurses said he was pretty settled for the night, so we all headed home.

I got home around 9 pm. I was so beat. I went to bed that night with the cordless phone and my cell phone next to the bed. I slept pretty well; my emotions had drained me, so I slept like a rock until the phone rang at 6:45 the next morning. It was my sister. The hospital had called my Dad at 2:30 and said g'pa was heading down hill fast. My immediate family had gotten to the hospital at 3 am, but as of 6:45, he was still with us. I went to work that day unable to concentrate. I was sitting at my desk all morning waiting for that dreaded call. But it never came.

Over the course of those next couple days, he improved, what seemed to me, dramatically. He still seemed a little out of it the last time I saw him, which was Tuesday, but he was awake and things were looking up. He may even move out of ICU today. It has been a long week of waiting, getting periodic updates, and hoping he'll pull through all of this. We aren't sure what's going to happen next, but here's hoping he gets to come home and spend the rest of his days with his wife of 60+ plus years.

It has been a tiring, emotional week: tears of sadness at hearing bad news, tears of joy at hearing good news. As I mentioned in one of my previous blogs, I have the most active tear ducts of anyone I know; only this time I know I wasn't alone.

I am looking forward to an uplifting weekend. I'll visit g'pa tomorrow morning, check on Veronica the Cat and do a little shopping in the afternoon before heading to the SU game with 12 friends for what promises to be a great night at the Dome. Then of course we also have Sunday, but not just any Sunday. It's SUPER BOWL SUNDAY! The only glich in the day is my soccer game, but I'll be happy to go to that since I couldn't make it last week.

Love ya g'pa!