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I love you, Grandpa. It has been sixteen years since you’ve passed and I still miss you terribly. Thank you for being you.

Great Grandpa Eli - Grandpa John Manta - Great Grandma Martha

Lung Cancer took him away from us before old age could have its say. It was a painful, agonizing way to exit this world. Once a strong, vibrant man… his last days were spent on a medical bed in his living-room. His bodily functions routed to a bag hanging from the rail, while the cancer rapidly devoured him from the inside.

He had been struggling for each breath, determined to hold death at bay for the sake of his loved ones. On his final day, my mother realized the time had come. She leaned over and whispered in his ear… “It’s okay, Dad. You can let go. Go to the light now. I love you“. It was then that my grandfather, John Manta, expelled his final breath. He passed away while I lay sleeping on the couch next to his deathbed.

I intended to write this post in honour of my grandfather on Memorial Day. My grandfather was an amazing man, with a wonderful sense of humour. His hugs wrapped me in warmth and his silliness gifted me many smiles. He wasn’t perfert, but he was, for a time, all mine. It is a tragedy that he was taken by an illness that could have been prevented. So, thus is the reason for my ’soapbox eulogy’. Smoking kills.

Grandma & Grandpa Manta

Grandpa John Manta

He was a WWII Navy Veteren. He trudged through swamps laced with Agent Orange and combated not only the enemy, but giant spiders too. He fought for our freedom. He survived the war torn jungles and came home to laugh with “Benny Hill”, twist in his recliner to “Dance Party USA”, and sneak chocolate chip cookies out of the jar when Grandma wasn’t looking.

He was loved so very, very much.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the Gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the mornings hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.”

–Author Unknown

Technorati Tag: Memorial Day

I just got off the phone with Bob sometime around 11:00 pm and was quite ready to climb into bed. It had been a long day of keeping the peace between two home-bound children. (One is grounded, the other I can’t seem to get rid of.) I felt completely drained of life, really. Yet, all I can remember accomplishing today was a mile walk, stretches, a game of 500 point Rummy, loading the dishwasher, downloading some tunes from BearShare, making a yummy conglomeration soup for my dinner, and picking ticks off of my son, while trying to assure him that he had not brought in 1001 more ticks with him (and the small parasitic arachnids with barbed proboscis that feed on the blood of warm-blooded animals), were NOT, right at this minute, planning a maniacal attack when he least expected.

[expletive deleted] No wonder I’m exhausted. That was one helluva sentence.

Completely off topic here (because when I’m tired my mind is prone to wander…), when a person says “Pardon my French” after using foul language, I often wonder… Is the word, ‘fuck’ French? If so, good for them.

So yeah. If anything else of consequence happened today, (or rather yesterday since it’s 2:00 am), I am too plumb tuckered out to recall. You see, I just now remembered why I mentioned Bob’s phone call in the first place. As soon as I got off the phone with him I realized that tomorrow (or rather today, if you’re keeping track), is ‘trash pick-up day’. That is, if they work on Memorial Day? Anyhoo, so after I took out the trash I no longer felt tired enough to crash for the night. Which leads to the reason for this post. I visited a few blogs to pass the time until I felt sleepy enough for bed again:

Mrs. Aginoth
Ben
Renee
Virenda
Lena
BlueTige
Christa

And then I wandered over to RhymeZone where I found these quotes:

“The older I grow, the less important the comma becomes. Let the reader catch his own breath.”
–Elizabeth Clarkson Zwart

“The poet judges not as a judge judges but as the sun falling around a helpless thing.”
–Walt Whitman

“The easiest way for your children to learn about money is for you not to have any.”
–Katharine Whitehorn

(Come on now, keep reading. They get funnier as you go along.)

“I have given two cousins to war and I stand ready to sacrifice my wife’s brother.”
–Artemus Ward

“Last night I stayed up late playing poker with Tarot cards. I got a full house and four people died.”
–Stephen Wright

“An effective way to deal with predators is to taste terrible.”
–Unknown

“Anyone who uses the phrase ‘easy as taking candy from a baby’ has never tried taking candy from a baby.”
–Unknown

“Are you going to come quietly, or do I have to use earplugs?”
–Unknown

“He is winding the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.”
–William Shakespeare

“Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance.”
–William Shakespeare

“I dote on his very absence.”
–William Shakespeare

Yeah, now I’m definitely ready to “find my pillow of opportunity“. (…quoted from my friend, Mat Larkin.) Good night, all. Pleasant dreams, or Good day… Whichever the case may be.

~ Stacy ~

Technorati Tags: RhymeZone, quotes, Elizabeth Clarkson Zwart, Walt Whitman, Katharine Whitehorn, Artemus Ward, Stephen Wright, William Shakespeare

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Anyhow, I switched the position of the names in order to correct things. So, maybe it’ll work correctly this time. I’ll give it until Monday and then I’ll post the results.

Whodda thunk it? Me? Lonely? No, no, no, no, no. It just doesn’t happen. I LIKE to be alone. I ENJOY solitude. I would be thrilled to lock out the world for a solid week and just absorb the silence. This is what dreams are made of… contented bliss, would be me.

So WTFart happened?

Bob went out of town for a temp job and has left me home alone for the next ten days. Well, not really alone. His father is camped out in the cement yard next to our lawn for a while… and Christian and Miranda are home all day/every day due to summer break. Bob has only been gone for two days now, so why do I feel as though I’m going to scream for lack of company? That’s soooooo not me.

I miss him. That’s what it is. For the first time in my life I’ve found someone that leaves a horrible void in my life when he is not here. I need the comfort my husband provides with his existence. I need to be able to look up from my laptop and see him sitting at his desk (which is the end table by the left side of the futon). I need to be able to wink and smile knowingly while YM’ing him from my desk to his, while we watch a movie together, and keep the kids from knowing that we are talking about them. [heh] I miss our witty banter and the twinkle in his eyes when he smiles at me. I miss his walking/talking human Wikipedia abilities and intelligent conversations. I miss his audible creative thought processes… no, really, I do! I even miss the fact that he’s not here to shake his head at me when I lose my temper and attempt to do something I probably shouldn’t… like tell the neighbors that their child is demon spawned and ought to be caged. [wistful sigh] He keeps me from foolishness like this, you see. Poor man, imagine the glares he’s going to receive from our neighborhood by the time he returns. I mean, really… 10. More. Days?!? How am I to manage civility for that long without his guidance?

[heh-heh]

I’m kidding on the last, of course. Kind of. I mean, I can maintain a certain level of civility when it behooves me. I just haven’t decided yet whether I shall, or not. [heavy sigh] Which brings me to my next train of thought which has completely usurped the original track. But that’s okay, I’ll get back to all that in a moment. First, let me share a bit of my day with you. You know, the part that made me forget, temporarily, that I mustn’t behave as though I’m Xena, Warrior Princess about to stomp the maniacal, evil, demented Callisto’s sorry ass.

Yeah. That part.

My neighbors have a cherubic-looking, blond-haired, blue-eyed, sweet little 10 year old girl. Ha. Scratch the sweet and throw in manipulative, spiteful, attention-seeking, gossipy, and excessively dishonest. I’m quite certain I could toss in a few more adjectives; but frankly, it would seem a bit repetitive. [slightly dripping with sarcasm now] Don’t even get me started on her brother’s fine qualities.

This afternoon CJ & Miranda, (my kids/ages 13 and 11), went creek wading with their friends, *Jack & Jill (ages 13 and 10); and I use the term ‘friends‘ rather loosely. (It’s a ‘with friends like them, who needs enemies’ kind of deal.) Moving right along… Today, this girl pressured my 11 yr. old daughter into sharing a cigarette with her. Not to be out done by his sis, the brother lit up too, and then tried to get my son to do the same.

CJ took the cigarette from *Jack and threw it in the creek.

Miranda took the cigarette and inhaled, passed it back to *Jill; and they continued in this manner until only ashes and a stub were left.

As they walked back home *Jack & Jill implored my son to keep his mouth shut, not tell. The cherubic *Jill voiced her usual threat, “If you tell, I’ll make sure that my parents never let you play with my brother again.” Then she added, “I’ll tell them that you and *Jack smoked too.”

Isn’t she sweet?

Okay, so the problem here is that *Jack is the only boy in the neighborhood near my son’s age… there isn’t anyone else available to ‘hang out’ with. Yet given this fact, my son still opted for the truth. It was rather stupid of them to light up in front of CJ. These kids know that my son always tells me the truth. Their feeble-minded attempt to get my son’s hands dirty in order to obtain guilted silence… failed… yet again. Due to his strong sense of morals, as well as the fact that he has OCPD; CJ is compelled towards honesty and rule abiding. I would like to believe that a portion of his honesty stems from the values I’ve taught, as well. Needless to say, I am quite proud of his squealing this time around.

(*Jack & Jill, (of course), are not the neighbor kids’ real names.)

Getting back to my daughter… Mind you, her decision to succumb to peer pressure is, (in no way), looked upon as an innocent victim’s mistake. She knew what she did was wrong. She made a bad choice, and now she will have to deal with the consequences. (Translation: Destroyed trust=loss of freedom and friends for a good, long time.) My daughter was not the initial instigator of underage smoking. She did not furnish the ‘cancer stick’, nor invite her friend to take one step closer to a slow, painful, agonizing death. Just the same, she didn’t say no, and I’m horribly disappointed in her behavior.

On to the other part of my day that made me want to open up a can of whoop-ass. I was served a summons to appear in court. I suppose I shouldn’t relay the specifics until all is said and done. Let’s just say that the person who filed the motion has made a HUGE mistake. My lawyer is going to slaughter this person in court. I’m talking annihilation here. To be fair, my lawyer is going to offer this person a chance to withdraw the motion. Why? Because, (to coin a much used phrase), the poor sap hasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell. As for me, I’ve dealt with this person long enough to know that any pity would be sorely misplaced. The bed has been made for a long time and only true justice would be served. It’s just a shame, and quite frankly an aggravation, that it has had to progress this far.

I began this post with the realization that I seriously miss my husband. I took a few detours while typing, paused for a diet Pepsi break, and got the giggles over a phone call in between. My friend, Mat, called to tell me that he met a snooty gal tonight. So he said to her, “You know, you have such pretty blonde hair, it’s a shame you dyed the roots black.” I laughed so hard I had tears coming out of my eyes. Thanks, Mat… I needed that.

And now I shall end my post with a note to my hubby. So, if mushy romantic gushings are not your thing… well, I shall feel sorrow for you.

Bob, I miss you more than I ever thought possible. You are the love of my life. Tonight, and every night until your return, I will hold you in my dreams. Thank you, dear, for all that you do to provide for us. I love you.

My daughter, Miranda, graduated from the 5th grade today. Well, actually it was yesterday, but I haven’t gone to bed yet. She has said goodbye to Elementary and will be joining the ranks of Middle school next year. Anyhoo, I just wanted to share that news, ‘cuz I’m sooooooo proud of her.