Kaleia "Logic" - Reason to Want to Die

Magnolia (7): No one wants to die. 

Kaleia (5): I used to want to die. 

Me: Why did you want to die? 

K: I wanted a new family.

Me: You wanted a new family? You didn’t like your family?

K: No, I just wanted to see what it was like to have a different one. 

Me: You know you don’t get a new family when you die. 

K: Yeah, but I would get to meet lots of new people in heaven. 

Me: True…but you know you can meet lots of new people here too. 

K: Yeah.

October 21

October 21st I get a call no one ever wants to receive. My sister tells me my Dad is gone.

Since October 21st, I keep coming back to this picture. It is my last one with him.

July 12th, my dad, responding to my recent comment that my parents always seem so busy when I visit, took my mom and me to one of his favorite places, a waterfall not far from their new dream home. Dad was so at peace there, said it felt heavenly. We talked about what a perfect camping initiation spot it could be for the girls, close enough to the house to come back if needed, but far enough away from it all. We wondered how many other places like it were waiting to be discovered nearby and how we might find them.

But we ran out of time. You left so quickly and so soon.

There are so many places left to explore together.

Recipes to cook.

Books to share.

Discussions to have.

Questions to ask.

Memories to create.


I miss you, Dad.

Goodbye Grandpa Robbins

Yesterday we attended my Grandpa Robbin's funeral in Ellensburg. It was a full military funeral with flag presentation, gun salute, and taps. Grandpa's air force buddies also led everyone in a nickel ceremony ("Throw a nickel in the grass, save a fighter pilot's ass." I'm not exactly sure of the significance of it). The service was well attended, with friend and family coming from as far away as South Carolina (leaving her family vacation). For me, it was bitter-sweet reconnecting and introducing Magnolia to friends and family but also saying goodbye to my grandpa.

Magnolia was a celebrity and definitely brought some happiness to many grieving people. Her snuggles were rejuvenating for my mom. She also was a real trooper, enduring the sun, heat, and many new faces with a minimal nap.

Following the funeral we had a celebration of Gary's life at Whistlin' Jack's restaurant on White Pass near his old cabin. My dad put together a 20 minute photo slide show as a tribute and several of his buddies shared touching and funny stories from his life.

Gary Robbins, My Grandpa

My grandpa passed away this week. It wasn't unexpected since he has been struggling in the hospital for the last few months. But the news has brought waves of sadness as well as happy memories as I grieve with my family.

The night we got the phone call from my parents, Brian and I joined my siblings in Seattle and Honolulu to honor Grandpa by toasting with a Ruby Red, his favorite drink. Brian and I reminisced memories of Grandpa while we drank:

• I loved the way he always came up and gave you a big side hug and said "Hey there, Big Sis" (or little Sis or Bud depending on which applied to you)
• He always made a point to go to coffee regularly with friends. I have always been impressed by how he maintained life long friendships despite being in the military. His friends Guy and Joy have been a part of his life since high school and kindergarten respectively
• I wish I had a tape recording of his laugh. It was similar to his mom's laugh and my uncle always teased that it was "The Robbins' Giggle," though I always that it was more of a chuckle.
• He loved his little log cabin in the woods and I'll always picture him there relaxing and enjoying his beverage in a foam cozy.
• In his den he had pictures of his airforce planes, and a stuffed cobra, and my brother and I would amuse ourselves by dumping all of his poker chips on the floor and putting them back in various patterns.
• The bathroom was always full of wordsearches and I learned his trick of getting a few minutes alone by taking extra long in the bathroom while enjoying a puzzle or two.
• He never gave up learning. During retirement he learned how to carve wood. He made a wooden chain for my mom out of one solid block of wood, all of the links connected!
• Grandpa was pretty quiet, but you knew if he got after you about something it was serious.
• Without fail he and my grandma would share a Ruby Red and vodka in the afternoon.
• He always had really corny jokes. Or at least I remember my mom saying that her corny jokes were things her dad always said.
• I loved that he came to our couple's baby shower even though it felt weird for men to be there. He even played my mom's shower games. In fact the Playdoh baby sculpture he made with his brother, Randy, won!
• I will always remember the last words I heard him say. When we took Magnolia to the hospital to see him, he took one look and said with pride, "She's beautiful." I think we would have loved her as much as he loved the rest of us.

If you read this and knew Gary, please feel free to add to our list by leaving a comment.

R.I.P. Puppy

Today, our betta fish of three years passed away. He was a shimmering crimson fish (I wish I had a picture) my sister got for my birthday when I couldn't have a puppy yet, thus the name. 

He was such a smart little fish...Brian used to tap the bowl before he fed him and Puppy would come up all eager and chomping.  And he would show his gratitude every time we (read Brian) cleaned his bowl by fanning out his beautiful flowing fins.  He was so sensitive too.  One time when I was sad he licked me.  Okay just kidding, that was Otis, but Puppy really wanted to, I could tell.

Puppy, you will be missed.

Grandpa William Batiuk ~ 1921 - 2007

As you may have read in one of my previous posts, Brian's grandpa past away just before American Thanksgiving. Last spring, he and grandma moved from their long time home in Trail, B.C. to be closer to family as their health conditions, including Grandpa's Alzheimer's, worsened. Grandpa had been in and out of the hospital with various ailments since then and it was sad to see him lose precious memories and be unable to do the things he loved like golfing and gardening. But even to the end, we continued to see his gentle spirit, his wit and his love of nature.


We held a family memorial service at Brian's parents last Saturday. Everyone got to share some fond memories:

• how, even in his 80's, he beat Brian's aunt at golf
• how he always affectionately and inexplicably called his grandkids "ginks"
• how, every time the ginks would walk by and smack the newspaper he was reading, he wouldn't get upset but would just calmly uncrumple it and continue reading
• how, one time, he did something no other mortal has done and lived: stood up to Grandma :) She was voicing, to Brian's brother, her not-so-favorable opinions about the "young people of today" when Grandpa astonished him by sticking up for us
• how he would painstakingly fill out full pads of grocery store contest applications and win fabulous merchandise almost weekly
• how he was one of the first people in B.C. to work on computers, but refused to own one in his home.

Overall, he will surely be remembered for his unfailing dedication to his family, his love of children (they always made his face brighten) and his never-ending wonder for nature.


We finished our celebration by listening to and reading his favorite Ukrainian hymn and eating a Ukrainian meal (he loved his heritage). Grandma gave each of the branches of his family a Ukrainian memento to remind us of grandpa.

My last memory of grandpa took place over Canadian Thanksgiving in October. We picked him up from his nursing home so he could celebrate with us. Carol, Brian's mom, asked me if I would give him a haircut, since I regularly cut Brian's hair. I was a little nervous, but I agreed.


Although, he didn't have much hair, it still was an adventure. His diabetes made him very sensitive to touch, so I was careful not to startle him too much. The toughest part was his neck. Several times I asked him to look down. I think it was the third time when he turned to me and, unsure why he would want to do such a thing, said, "There's just a dog down there." Carol and I had a good chuckle and I decided to just do my best without getting him to look down. I didn't have much time with Grandpa Batiuk, but the times I did I saw a man to be admired and we will always remember him.

Funerals

Yesterday was my first funeral. I'm lucky, some would say. It has caused me to reflect quite a bit on death and how we deal with it. I was surprised to learn that they have a room for the family off to the side so they can cry freely. That really struck me. Why should the family who loved the person the most hide away? As I heard more people apologize for their tears throughout the day I concluded the tradition must have started out of our shame in tears. For some reason, our society got the idea that tears are a sign of weakness. I disagree and not just because I cry easily. During college, one of my mentors taught me a lot about grieving and I have come to believe that tears are an important part of the process. For those times when tears are a part of weakness, why do we try to pretend we are something we are not? In dealing with death, there is an element of weakness. So I say we should do away with those back rooms. Let there be tears (and laughter) as we deal with our losses. Another thing that struck me was a few comments about protecting children from funerals. My uncle died when I was four and I did not attend his funeral. I wish I had. I think children need to see all seasons of life and that they can handle a great deal more than most adults give them credit for. Not only that, I think by not allowing children to attend these key ceremonies we perpetuate our society's fear of death. I think if I have to attend a funeral for a close loved one while my children are young, I might ask a close friend to come to the funeral with me to watch over my children so I can grieve freely, but they can still witness this important part of life.