Saying Goodbye

(On Friday, March 20th my family will say a final goodbye to my grandparents during a military service. My grandparents met while serving during the Korean War. They wrote and received decoded messages. Top secret kind of stuff. 

It was no secret that my grandparents were an important part of my like. I spent just about everyday with them from first grade until I could drive. My grandpa never missed one of my soccer games, while my grandma was basically a saint. Ahead of the service I was asked to write a memory about both by my aunt. I did, and I figured I'd share them. )

Grandma--

I spent before and after school at Grandma and Grandpa's house from first grade until I could drive. Every morning I would get to their house while they were still asleep. A short time later, Grandma would wake up. She'd shuffle out in her nightgown and start her day. The tea kettle would go on the stove, tea (for her) and hot chocolate (for me). She'd then mix up her Metamucil, I can still hear the spoon tapping those ugly plastic glasses of theirs. She'd drink her concoction, followed by a "blah". This happened every morning. 

After she had her breakfast and I had my hot chocolate, she'd get dressed to walk me to the bus stop. During the school year the mornings were either cold or very cold. So Grandma would put on this silly white hat, an old brown corduroy coat, and these bright red gloves. We'd walk outside and she'd declare whether there was "frost on the pumpkins". On the walk down we talked about anything and everything. 

In the first few years Grandma would walk all the way down the hill and stand with me and the other kids at the bus stop. As I got older, I think Grandma realized that wasn't really that "cool". So she stopped waiting at the stop. Instead, she'd walk to the bottom of the hill and when we got to the corner, she'd tell me to have a good day then she'd walk halfway back up the hill. And from there she would watch over me and the other kids until the bus arrived. 

When the bus pulled up, we'd all climb on board. Just before I'd walk up the stairs, I'd turn back and wave. Grandma would stick her red glove in the air and wave back from her perch on the hill. And as the bus would start to drive away, Grandma would start walking the rest of the way home. 

I like to think Grandma is still watching over me just like she was from her spot on the hill. I just wish I could wave goodbye and see her wave back one more time.

Grandpa--

Grandpa and I had traveled about three-quarters of the way across the country and it had been a long trip. We'd already broken down once in Albuquerque... and now we were in rural Tennessee and we needed to rest. 

Somewhere along highway 40 we saw a sign for the Crown Inn. After a string on Motel 6s being treated like royalty sounded pretty darn good. 

Unfortunately the monarchy had clearly fallen. From the outside it all looked fine. The place even had a pool. Check-in was fine and we were set. 

Then we went into the room. We walked in and the carpet was soaked. The air conditioner had been leaking but we figured that at least it worked. Tennessee in mid July is hot and humid. So a working AC is a plus. 

We unpacked our few things and I went to check out the pool. As it turns out there was probably more water in the carpet of our room than the pool. And the water that was there was nothing you'd want to swim in or even walk near. 

I headed back to the room and told Grandpa the disappointing pool news. He said he'd take a shower then. I turned on the TV and sat on the bed. 

About five minutes later I heard a noise is never heard before and never heard again. Grandpa was in the showering giggling. I mean giggling like a little boy. I had no idea what was going on, but the sound was so funny I started laughing too. 

When Grandpa got out of the shower he explained what happened. A few minutes into the shower, the shower head dislodged but only came forward enough that the water started spraying everywhere but on Grandpa. 

I'm not sure if it is really that funny. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was the terribleness of the situation as a whole. But whatever it was, it was the only time I ever heard him laugh like that and for that there will always have a special place in my heart for the Crown Inn. Even if it was the king of lousy hotels.

Double the fun?

"You sure there's just one in there, doc?" 

I'm sure every parent-to-be has jokingly asked this. Only it's not really a joke. It's more like a half joke. Because the other half is sheer, unadulterated panic that the doctor might say no. 

"Yep, just one." 

That's the answer we were looking for... and that's the answer the doctor gave. Whew. 

But...

A funny thing happened... 

While listening to our new baby's heartbeat I noticed a little blob in the corner of the ultrasound. I'm no Dr. Oz (or Dr. Seuss for that matter) and clearly know little to nothing about women... I just assumed it was an ovary or some other unidentifiable lady part. 

"Oh, what's that?" the doctor asks. 

I'm pretty sure that's not a question you ever want your doctor to ask while looking at any part of your body let alone your insides. 

"Oh. Nope, there's two. Congratulations."

The rest is basically a blur of stunned looks, excited nurses and sheer, unadulterated PANIC. 

Two weeks have passed since that day. The panic has subsided (some) and now it's sunk in that I will be something I never, ever considered before... a father of three. 

Seriously... count them there's two!

I'm walking!

And he's off! Dominic took his first steps this week, and I guess that means there's no going back. He's not exactly Fred Astaire... he's more like Frankenstein. Still it sure is exciting... and stressful.

My Grandpa

My Grandpa, Dominic, and my dad

In the same week Dominic turned 10 months, I learned my grandpa has a rare form of skin cancer that is ultimately going to kill him. Not to sound too "Lion King" about this, but it really does make you think about the circle of life. As one life is just getting going, another is coming to an end.

Unfortunately, Dominic will not likely remember my grandpa. Even if he does, it won't be the same man I remember... and nothing makes me sadder.

He'll never get to hear my grandpa order his coffee and tell the waitress to "hold the mayonnaise"(I don't know why he said it, but he said it. EVERY time). He'll never play cards with my grandpa and wonder the entire time if he's cheating (he probably was).

He'll never call my grandpa and say "let's take a trip" and no matter what he was doing he was ready to go. We went all over. Riverside to see family, Mariposa to go fishing, Yuma for God know's what. We even drove all the was across the country and back (can't believe we didn't kill each other).

He'll never hear my grandpa tell him (and truly believe) he was the best at whatever it was he was doing. My grandpa thought I was Pele on the soccer field and Michael Jordan on the basketball court (I was neither). He never missed one of my high school soccer games (home or road). Even at soccer camp, in 100-degree weather, he was standing on the sidelines (I'm not even sure he was allowed).

I will make sure to tell Dominic how his great-grandfather was always there for his daddy. Once I took my Subaru station wagon off-roading (it was 4-wheel drive) and got stuck. I called my grandpa in a panic to help me get it out before my dad got home. He raced over and we got to digging. We were still digging when my dad drove by.

I want Dominic to understand his great-grandfather has a huge heart. When I was in elementary school we had "grandparents day". My grandma and grandpa came every year, and every year they would adopt everyone in the class who's grandparents couldn't make it. They would invite all those kids to sit with us at lunch, and my grandpa would spend the hour making jokes. (Years later when one of my friends got married, he invited my grandparents to the wedding. Their invitation read "Grandma & Grandpa".)

Dominic will only have the art on our walls to know how talented my grandpa is. My grandpa is a true artist. He paints, sculpts, draws, you name it he could do it. When I was in high school, he really got into make walking canes. His best had a bear on the top. People always told him he could make them and sell them, but he was always more interested in giving them away. The same with his paintings. Now I wish I had taken more.

I will make sure that Dominic knows how important my grandpa is in my life. How some of the best parts of me, are the best parts of him. I want Dominic to know, that Vic McKean may not have always been the best man, but he was always the best grandfather I could ask for.

I love you grandpa.


Now that I have you depressed... I have a movie for you to watch. Dominic is becoming VERY mobile. See for yourself.

Dominic's on the Move

Dominic's is definitely on the move. Strangely, he's usually headed to where ever the dog happens to be. Once Dominic can walk, the dog will never get another moment of rest. Too bad.

Dominic's New Toys

Dominic is enjoying his new Christmas gifts. I won't lie, I'm enjoying them a little myself.

The first is Dominic's new piano. It plays music, says numbers and colors and it also hooks up to the TV somehow. We're still working on that part.



This racetrack daddy can really get into. It involves cars, racing and more importantly crashes. Plus it makes Dominic laugh.

8-Month Update

Late in Melissa's pregnancy someone said "I want to see you keep the blog going once the baby is born." At the time I thought, "no problem".

I was wrong... clearly. This is the first "real" update in months. Oh well... so goes the life of a busy dad.

It's not that I don't have the time. There are plenty of free moments, but I use those to do other things, shower, eat, and most importantly sleep (I'll tell you what we don't do... watch movies. We've had the same DVDs from Netflix for months).

The good news is-- eight months later, things are getting easier. Dominic is sleeping more of the night. He can sit up, which means he can play on his own. And he loves toys, especially the ones that play music (and what's not to love about hearing the same song over and over and over again). He loves to laugh, and we love to laugh with him.

The bad news-- I think things are about to get harder. Dominic seems to be on the verge of crawling (or walking, I really not sure which he's going to do first). Mobility scares me... a lot. Someone else said to me, "once they can walk, you're always one fall away from the ER". Great!

And let's be honest, there's nothing more painful than watching your kid be in pain. Dominic bumped his head pretty good the other day, and it took all I had not to cry, while he was crying. I guess that's how it goes.

Praying for toys perhaps?

Now we're getting ready to share our first Christmas with Dominic. Can't wait... even though he's already the best present I've ever received (although, that Josh Freeman jersey I got from my birthday was pretty nice too).