I am scared. Scared that this disease that has a hold of my Gram will erase all of my memories of lucky charms and sleepovers. I want to visit her, but I am scared. Scared that she will forget me. Scared that she will not know my name. Scared that she will ask where Grandpa is and I will not be able to hold back my tears that somehow creep in each time I think of him. I wonder sometimes after all of these years of living with a different kind of pain, after surviving cancer, and working so hard for her family that she was challenged with one of the most difficult conditions for both family and self, that of dementia. It was just a few years ago that I stopped by her house on a cold spring morning and sat and had breakfast with her and Grandpa. Toast, always slightly burnt, and eggs, always slightly undercooked. It was just ten years ago that I would call Grandma and ask her to meet me at the Tiffin room for lunch, and she would drive down and we would share a meal together and she and I would talk about all of her struggles and mine too. When the bill would come I would try and snatch it up and she would always say "I am older and I have more money!" It was just twenty years ago that I stopped by their house after a great day of high school and Gram poured me a Pepsi and told me how beautiful I looked. It was twenty five years ago when I laid on her couch one Sunday evening with a headache so strong I could feel my heart in my head and she again and again laid a cold wash rag on my forehead until the pain went away. It was twenty eight years ago that I called her one Friday night and asked her if I could have a sleepover. She would lay out a blanket next to her and Grandpa's bed and I would fall asleep there. In the morning I could here them whispering, and I would pretend to still be asleep. I can see you Gram, in all those memories, and I am scared. Scared that those memories will be replaced by questions, asked over and over again. Of someone who is unsure where they are and who surrounds them. Someday will find you in a sweeter place Gram. A better rain. It will leave behind a rainbow in the sky, and you will be alright again. A better rain.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Me, Caitlin, and Ashley. A few of my favorite grasshoppers.
A few months ago I taught a group of young women about the trials of life, how to face them, how to plow through them with grace, and why they make us better, stronger people. I was intrigued at how well I was getting through to one girl in particular. She was so involved with my words. I thought to myself, "nice work Amy, nice work". I felt like for once that I had hit a chord with these young grasshoppers. I shared a piece of my life, and they would benefit. I closed my lesson and opened the discussion up to the girls. Four or maybe five seconds passed, and then the girl who was so involved in my lesson raised her hand and said these words..."Sister Wilde, how do you get your legs so shiny?"
That my friends is where one lesson officially ended, and another began. So, I taught them the ways of hard work and skill to gain a sheen and shimmer on their legs. It is not as easy as one might think, but the end result is very worth it.
3 or 4 blade razor, spend a little money and get a nice one
Soap legs with Dove soap
Step 2: GENTLY scrub legs with pumice stone. I can tell you from a bad experience that you do not want to scrub too hard or for too long in one spot...just..ya...trust me on this one.
Step 3: Rinse
Step 4: Lather shave gel
Step 5: Shave, and then shave again
Step 6: dry them legs off and spread on some body butter ( I looove The Body Shop for this stuff)
Step 7: Throw on a skirt and shine shine shine!!!
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
"Knight Rider, a shadowy flight into the dangerous world of a man who does not exist. Michael Knight, a young loner on a crusade to champion the cause of the innocent, the helpless, the powerless, in a world of criminals who operate above the law."
Tonight the new Knight Rider hit the TV waves, and oh what a terrible disappointment. We kids grew up without TV and sugar, but just LOOK at us! nearly totally almost completely unaffected! Each Sunday night we would head over to my Grandma Humphreys house for a healthy dose of both. She would feed us Lucky Charms and then send us to the TV room where all of us cousins would wait for Knight Rider to begin. My cuz Trent was pretty much the kid version of Micheal Knight, complete with the foxy curly hair (it was ah hem, permed), the confidence, and the fast talk. All of my memories of this sacred TV hour are that of nostalgia, and complete bliss.
So why why why then ruin a good thing?? This new Michael does not even wear a leather coat for crying out loud. The old Michael was Captain Smooth, and I trusted his instinct completely. The new Michael is a bit of a train wreck, although he does have hotness.
The thing is, I had a crush on K.I.T.T.. I loved the way his voice box lit up red every time he suggested something to Michael. He had the cool factor. Like a best friend, loyal and honest. Gosh I loved him. This new K.I.T.T. is unacceptable. He is a red blob and he talks WAY too much, especially when it comes to dating advice for women. Since WHEN did a computer know anything about dating? Are there girl computers and boy computers? If so, what defines hotness? A smokin mother board? I just don't buy it... this new Michael and K.I.T.T.. Bring back 1982. Bring back the old Michael and his leather jacket... along with his almost too short pants. Bring back large moussed man hair. Go crazy and bring back a hairy man chest to go with it. Go even crazier and mousse that man chest hair until it is fluffy. But don't try and recreate the best show in pretty much the entire decade of the 80's with a bunch of actors that probably were not even alive in 1982.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
I am still A M A Z E D by the runners the kids and I watched cross the finish line in Logan on Sat. There were grunters, yellers, faces that were bunched up super tight so that they didn't cry in front of the screaming crowd, fellas that got leg cramps the last few yards, and lots and lots of average, ordinary people. Now, my friend Aubrey is a runner, and not ordinary or average. She ran the marathon in 3 hours and 20 min (um ya), and is in phenomenal shape. That aside, I have to tell you, there were only two pair of legs that I really envied. A marathon runner does not fit into a certain physique like a swimmer or basketball player, or football player is, and that my friends is what is so great about the marathon runner. They are the clerk at your local grocer, they are the PTA president, they are the crazy grandma that lives up the street, the mom that just had a baby (yup!), the guy who wants to drop a few pounds, the sisters who are competitive. Marathoners are a glimpse of a can-do-attitude more than a ripped out bod. Can I have both please?
This year, my 35th, I have decided to finally start exercising. So far I have run in five 5Ks, with a PR of 27.06, and one 10K. My goal for May is a Half Marathon...and I am SOO excited!
At the end of the day the real reason why I run is simple. It makes me feel better, my heart my heart my heart, and of course, skirt confidence!