a day of thanks

i have a lot to be thankful for.

for instance, i'm at mom's house right now. i wouldn't be if i was still in georgia.

so i'm drinking coffee, sprawled out on the chase with muffin pants, enjoying quiet time before the rest of the world awakes.

this morning i'm going to make a pumpkin gingerbread trifle (thanks rachel ray).

then dad's going to put on my spare as i have a flat tire. we will go to walmart together and get a new tire. (dad loves to help me whenever possible and ignored me all together when i said i had AAA).

after that i'll go back to mom's house and help her prepare our thanksgiving feast (if she lets me).

i'm sure i'll get drilled with questions from family members about my boyfriend (not so thankful about that, although i am thankful for boyfriend himself).

after things settle and if we can still move, mom and i are on a mission to finish making window treatments for my master bedroom.

if i get a nap squeezed in too, it may be a record breaking day of greatness.

remembering and vowing to never forget.

i spent a couple of days back out in rural kansas to bury grandma. it's been a while since i've actually spent considerable time there. our family gatherings at the farm ceased about 10 years ago and were replaced by short day trips to the assisted living facility.

i love small towns. i remember growing up, our family visits were typically noted in the weekly paper.

my dad was raised on the farm and went to school in a one-room schoolhouse up until high school.

he rode a horse to get there.

but not before grandma had his clothes pressed.

milk, eggs, and chicken were fresh from the farm.

grandma would occasionally lend a hand by milking a cow, but always in a dress.

lots of stories were shared to me about my grandmother this last week. i hung on to every word and hope that somehow i will remember it all forever.

i'm afraid of that. that i'll forget. that the stories will fade over time as most things do.

i know one story that never won't ...

the time that aunt nita brought my grandma a pie and was chased by a wild turkey. grandma laughed as she watch aunt nita run across the front lawn. after a successful pie delivery, grandma hit that turkey over the head with a stick so hard that it knocked him out. that's when aunt nita made her escape.

true story.

i told you she was a firecracker.

saying goodbye.

i've never been good at goodbyes.

i remember years ago my mom and brother dropping me off at my college dorm for the very first time. as i pulled back into my hometown a month later, it suddenly dawned on me that life had forever changed. i walked inside my mom's house and ran straight into her arms.

the years after college were no easier, in that respect. i moved down south and eagerly started a new life outside of kansas. visits home for the holidays were great but saying goodbye at the end was torture.

about the time when it started to become easier was about the time when i decided to move back.

leaving a life i had created for the past several years was not easy for me. i decided to move back to the midwest which also meant saying goodbye to my southern sidekick of 6 years/soul mate/roommate/business partner, heather.

thankfully, dad was there to help with my move, but more importantly, be my support. dad can't talk about that day without choking up. he witnessed it all which included a tearful heather at 6am seeing us off with a box of donuts.

i miss her every day. and although we're not partners-in-crime running around savannah, i know she'll forever be in my life. until death do us part.

now tomorrow, i have to say a different kind of goodbye. this one may very likely be forever.

my grandmother is 99 years old. she has overcome breast cancer and losing her husband (among many other things). i'm constantly amazed by her strength and resilience. plus, she's a real firecracker. i love that.

grandma is not well. i'm trying to prepare myself.

something great will be lost without her here. she is the core of our family. she provided a warm home and some of the best childhood memories were had on that farm in rural kansas. grandma's pancakes and fried chicken, homemade ice cream, catching fire flies, playing tag on the hay bails, sledding, building forts in the woods ...

not to mention, she raised my dad. he's pretty amazing.

i'm not ready to say goodbye.

i won't.

i'll always remember.

my bags were all packed, but before i could get out the door dad called to tell me she passed early the next morning.