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Posts Tagged ‘things that make me happy’

sub_confessional

I am fresh out of blog ideas today.  I was perusing my great big book of blog ideas and came across a page that said “Just Confess!”  I wrote a blog post from the lovely Not a Mean Girl a couple of months ago, so I am going to recycle it for you guys, with a few added details! Away we go….

My paternal grandmother died nine years ago and at her funeral I almost tipped her open coffin over….take a moment to digest that. Now here’s the story….

My grandmother was a pet lover, just like me. I’m sure that’s where I inherited my need to have many furries around me at all times! When I was very little, my grandmother had an apricot toy poodle named Bianca. I don’t remember much about Bianca except that she always wore a “diamond” collar, was extremely yappy and I was always afraid I was going to get bitten!

When Bianca died, my grandmother had her cremated and she kept the ashes in a little urn on the bookshelf. Next to the urn she kept a little stone replica of Bianca in a little basket. Stone Bianca wore real Bianca’s collar and my grandmother made sure she kept a Milk Bone cookie underneath Stone Bianca at all times.

Flash forward several years to the funeral…..

There’s my grandma, lying peacefully, having passed away at the ripe old age of 95. Next to her side in the casket was Stone Bianca in her little basket. As I stood there saying my goodbyes, I found myself staring at the little stone figure and it suddenly became extremely important to me to make sure that Stone Bianca had a Milk Bone to take with her on her trip to the great beyond, so I leeeeeeeeaaaannnneeedd carefully across my grandma to lift Stone Bianca out of her basket.  In my defense, I had no idea those little fucking dogs were so heavy and I may have stumbled forward. Into the casket. The casket resting on one of those wheeled carts. Those collapsible, wobbly wheeled carts. Shit.

ROCK ROCK ROCK ROCK ROCK ROCK went the casket as time stopped. I watched in slow motion as the casket rocked back and forth threatening to topple over. Fan-fucking-tastic. I was about to see the body of my 95 year old grandmother toppled to the ground in a heap all because I had to look for a goddamn Milkbone. Really? Areyoufuckingkiddingme?

Fortunately, karma was on my side that day and the casket FINALLY settled back into place. I turned around and let out a deep breath, looking up to see both of my cousins looking at me with huge grins on their faces, trying very hard to hold back the gales of laughter I knew were threatening both of them.  I shot them both dirty, threatening looks – very scary since I am all of 5’4″ and they are both well over 6′ tall. Nine years later, they still this story every time we’re together. We laugh and clink beer bottles toasting Grandma and both of the Biancas. Isn’t that what family is all about?

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     On Monday afternoon, I found myself sitting in the Oakland airport. I was in a very bad mood after hearing bad news from home and a negative encounter with a nasty lady and I was very crabby after having to wait for the delayed plane. Finally, I boarded the plane and found myself sitting next to an adorable little girl traveling alone.  She immediately introduced herself, “I’m Emma Cutie Patooty. I’m 9 and I’m going to my grandma’s in Las Vegas for two weeks until my mom gets back. I have all of my homework in my suitcase so I don’t fall behind because I have A’s right now and I DO NOT want to get back home and have F’s!”  I told her it was nice to meet her then pulled out my knitting project while she settled in with a book.

            As I knit, I could see her out of the corner of my eye.  She kept peeking over at me and then back to her book. After a few minutes, she started leaning in my direction to get a better look at the scarf I was working on. Finally, when her head was practically in my lap, I asked, “Do you knit Emma?”

            “Yep. My grandma taught me last summer, but I ran out of yarn and mommy keeps forgetting to take me to get more.” She heaved a big sigh the way only a nine year old who has to put up with something as exasperating as forgetful parents can do.  I put my knitting down and fished an extra set of needles and a new skein of yarn out of my bag. “Would you like to knit with me?” I asked handing the treasures over.

            Her green eyes got huge and round as she almost threw the book down and grabbed the yarn.  She held it for a moment while I resumed my own knitting. “The thing about knitting…”she started, “is that casting on is soooooooo hard. I can’t remember how to do it.” I took the yarn and we decided that she would knit a scarf “for next winter, because it’s very cold in the winter and you don’t want your neck to freeze.” I cast on 26 stitches and then handed the needles over to Emma.

            We spent the next hour with bamboo needles clicking like false teeth and I listened to her chatter on and on about school and her friends.  When we landed, she finished the row she was working on, looked down at her five inches of beautiful garter stitch and started to hand the project to me. I stopped her and said, “Why don’t you keep it. I have lots of needles at home. You can finish your scarf before your mom gets back..”

            The grin that spread across her face was priceless. I waited while the other passengers deplaned, then walked off the plane with Emma and the flight attendant to meet her grandmother.  Emma excitedly rambled our whole story out in one long run on sentence while holding up her handiwork for her grandmother to see.  The grandmother chuckled and thanked me. Emma hugged me goodbye and then off we went in our separate directions, her skipping beside her grandmother, and me strolling along with a happy smile on my face.

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            I posted a note about our encounter on Plurk and several people told me how sweet I was to give her the knitting supplies, but honestly, Emma’s kindness, gratitude and pure childish joy at being given such a small token was worth far more than the cost of the yarn and the needles.  She made me smile and relax, simply enjoying spinning yarn into fabric, instead of stewing in the negative thoughts I had when I boarded the plane and for that I am grateful. So Emma Cutie Patooty, wherever you are in Las Vegas, I hope you finish all your homework so you don’t lose your straight A status and I hope next winter you enjoy the pretty green scarf you made so your neck won’t freeze.

 

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I don’t have any words of wisdom this week, just support for a friend who is finding out the hard way that sometimes people aren’t who you think they are at all.  We love you. 

You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
When the road looks rough ahead
And you’re miles and miles
From your nice warm bed
Just remember what your old pal said
Boy, you’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me 
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got troubles, well I’ve got ’em too
There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you
We stick together and we see it through
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me 

Some other folks might be
A little bit smarter than I am
Bigger and stronger too
Maybe
But none of them will ever love you the way I do 
It’s me and you
And as the years go by
Boys, our friendship will never die
You’re gonna see
It’s our destiny
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me

 

Don’t forget to check out the other Simply Kind Tuesday posts!

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