Love Is…My Family

I think I am the luckiest girl in the world to have my family.

I love my boys and J, of course.  They’re the folks I usually talk about on this blog.  Today, though, the family into which I was born is the part of my family that’s on my mind.

My family has always taken care of me.  I could go on forever with examples, but here are some that come immediately to mind:

  • I have scoliosis and it was really bad before I had surgery for it.  Every time I had a doctor’s appointment when I was little, my parents were usually on a pay phone before we left the doctor, to tell my grandparents what was going on with me.
  • My parents were very brave to agree to my scoliosis surgery.  The surgery saved my life but it must have been scary for them.  One of them stayed with me the entire 10 days I was in the hospital, despite the fact that my grandmother, my dad’s mom, ended up in the hospital during that time.
  • We went to St. Simons Island every summer when I was little.  The summer I had my scoliosis surgery done, not a single one of my family members went to the island for vacation, just because I couldn’t go.  This includes my parents, grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousin.
  • I had a room at my grandparent’s and my aunt and uncle’s houses.  It was really their guest rooms, but they called it my room whenever I was around such that when I was little, I really thought I had rooms at their houses.
  • I always took it for granted when I was little, but my parents, grandparents, and aunt and uncle always saw to it that I had super-cool, stylish clothes when I was little.  To this day, my grandmother is very pleased for me to spend what she gives me on shoes.  I usually do, too.
  • My wedding to J was beautiful mostly thanks to my family and they spoiled me rotten that spring.  There was the shower at the Stockbridge Club House, hosted by my best friends and my mom’s cousin.  And then, my aunt stunned me pretty well by hosting a private bridal luncheon with close women friends of the family at the Swan Coach House, in Atlanta.
  • When Be-Bop was baptized in Des Moines, my parents and aunt and uncle braved the blizzard to get there.  That was no small thing considering the whole state was practically shut down and a church generally filled with hundreds of people each Sunday only had 40 people or so because of the bad weather.  But my family wanted to be there for me, J and Be-Bop because they love us that much.
  • My grandmother, to this day, keeps my boys in shoes.  My parents and aunt and uncle keep the boys clothed, too.  That really, really helps us out and I definitely don’t take it for granted nowadays.  They also make sure the boys have fun toys.  I don’t know how we’d have done it, this parenting thing, thus far without them.

It’s been a busy week.

The picture above is of the Ansco Shur-Flash camera my grandmother gave me last Sunday.  She thinks it may still work.   Except for some slightly corroded batteries in the flash, it is in fabulous shape.  The above picture is after I cleaned out the batteries and cleaned it up a little.  Maybe I’ll get ambitious one of these days and go get some of the 120 size film it takes, to see the kind of pictures it can still take.  At any rate, it’s beautiful and I’m very proud to have it.

As great as it is and as proud I am of the camera, though, I am very, very overwhelmed at what happened yesterday.  We found out on Monday that our little Civic Hybrid is dead, for our purposes anyway.  It was going to cost more than we have to be able to fix it…the computer needed to be rebuilt, the electric and regular batteries both needed to be replaced, and it had a whole laundry list of other things that needed to be done.  We got a deal on it we couldn’t refuse, though, and sold it on the spot. Briefly, it looked like we might be a one-car family, something we’ve never had to face before.

But then, my grandmother offered us her van.  She wouldn’t take a thing for it, despite the fact that we really, really wanted her to have what we’d gotten for the Civic.  I’m still overwhelmed at her generosity and the fact that it is a gift of love from her.

It’s great that it’s a car just when we needed it, of course.  We needed a car and she was really, really generous with us.  But it’s beyond that.  But there’s an emotional attachment to this van for all of us, as well.  My grandfather passed away in 2007 and this was his car, too.  He drove it most of the time.  I’m proud to have a van that fits my little family’s needs, but I’m equally as pleased to have something my grandfather took great care of and pride in, as well.  It’s like having a little piece of GaGa (that’s what I called him) around to take care of me, still.

I can never repay my family’s kindness except with my love, which they, of course, have anyway.  My only hope is that one day, I’ll be able to pay it forward for my boys, their families, and other people J and I care about.

I love my family.

 

 


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