Maddie was looking through some photos I had posted online and found one of my kids and me in about 1986. She identified everyone in the photo but one person, and asked me "Grammy, who is that?" I told her it was me, and she repeated her question two more times in disbelief.
She finally said: You're as little as your kids!
I said: well Maddie I was a lot younger then, and the kids had mostly gotten as big as me (with the exception of Wretch, who was about Maddie's age). (No way was I going to comment on what she obviously meant, which was that I was THINNER.)
Then Duncan started in: that's you? that's YOU? THAT'S YOU???
*sigh*
Me: Yes Duncan it is me.
Duncan: You look like you need to be married.
Me: I was Duncan, to Gramps. That's why I was as LITTLE AS THE KIDS...I got married when I was a kid...(sort of...I was 17). :)
Gramps, me and some of the kids and grandkids in fall 2014
Link up any Throwback Thursday photos you would like to share, in the comments below.
...laugh, life is good!
~cath find me @jonesbabie on Twitter
Yesterday Stevie Wonder had a potentially lethal dysryhthmia caused by a problem with the electrical conduction system in his heart. In other words, he had a total heart block, and instead of the normal 60-100 beats per minute, his heart was beating at 30 beats or less every minute.
This had been gradually coming on for a long time, but had worsened in the past few days. SW was lucky though, because his yearly stress test was scheduled for yesterday. Scheduled a year ago after his last stress test.
He lasted 4 minutes on the treadmill. He was ready to go on, but the cardiologist stopped it, and put an envelope in his hand and told him to go to the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit at the hospital next door. We went straight over.
At 5PM yesterday, the cardiac surgeon spent an hour putting in a pacemaker. Stevie Wonder came to on the operating table and told him he felt better already. While the surgeon was closing the incision. When Steve told me this, I felt like I had married Ironman for sure.
After bringing him home today, I feel like I am married to the Energizer Bunny.
We headed home around 1PM, and intended to stop and drop off some paperwork at my workplace, and get his prescriptions filled. (He had not taken anything for pain since the surgery, because he said he wasn't hurting.)
On the way he decided he HAD to have a cup of coffee from Starbucks. Of course he didn't say it like that. In fact, our whole conversation home was a little bit tense on the weird side. Driven by the fact that he was wired like a jackrabbit on speed. (At this point, after two nights with little sleep, I felt like a walking zombie straight out of Night of the Living Dead. And I looked like one too.) Our trip home went something like this:
SW: You need a Starbucks Tazo Chai. Go to Target and I will get you one. And get a coffee for me.
Me: Ok. There is a McDonald's too. I can stop and get something to eat.
SW: I'm not hungry since I ate lunch before we left the hospital.
Me: I KNOW you AREN'T, but since I HAVEN'T EATEN since YESTERDAY, is there any reason I can't stop?
SW: Well no, I didn't mean it that way. I didn't mean you couldn't eat.
Me: It sure sounded like it to me
SW: STAY IN THE RIGHT LANE!
Me: I thought I was! (I was in the middle lane.)
SW: TURN HERE! TURN HERE!
Me: OK!!!! STOP SCREAMING AT ME! YOU ARE SCARING ME!
SW: Your driving scares the s**t out of me!
Me: I haven't wrecked us yet! (I was ready to throw him out of the car at this point and drive across the pacemaker in his chest.)
SW: Ok I am sorry I hollered. Turn here.
Me: I am. I know where I am now.
He went in to Target and came back with the largest hot chai and coffee they make. Which was probably a mistake. We went through the drive through at McDonald's and I got something to eat.
A few minutes later he said:
I am sweating. I'm hot.
Me: I'm not. My feet are cold.
SW: Well I am hot. Do you think it is the pacemaker?
Me: (I was thinking it might be frying his chest, but didn't say that. I made concerned wife noises.) No, that's not it. Take your jacket off.
SW: I can't. Because I can't lift my left arm.
Me: Then tough it out. (My sympathy was fading fast at this point.)
A few minutes later, he said:
"Well I think it was the caffeine rush from the coffee. Now that my heart is beating right I think it circulated faster through my system than it used to. I must have been bad off for a long time and didn't realize it."
Me: Better cut that caffeine intake in half then, or you'll be sweating a lot.
The trip home took forever. We stopped several times, because he would think of something that we HAD to have. We finally made it home, and I dragged myself to the shower and put my pajamas on. It was 4 PM. By the time I got out of the shower, he had washed off, shaved, and fixed a full dinner for himself. I dragged to the couch and collapsed.
He is still going strong as I write this. I told him I was going to ask the doctor where the switch was on the pacemaker, so I could flip it off once in a while to slow him down.
Sometimes our best conversations take place when we are trapped together in a vehicle. It has also been the scene of some horrendous arguments. Like trapped animals, we snap at each other. It usually ends in silence because we can't reach a middle ground. Or sometimes it ends like it did today, with both of us laughing at how ridiculously we are behaving.
I guess that is what marriage does to those of us who last...it wears us down. In our case, we are worn down with laughter.
I bought a new set of earbuds for my iPhone today. The others I had still work, but they are on borrowed time. I jerked them off my head in a hurry the other morning when Stevie Wonder let Gabe in so I could do a butt check on him. (You remember that anal abscess I mentioned way back? Well, he is on the second surgery for the same thing, and if it happens again...I am going to do the surgery myself and save $200. Heck, I have had to stick my finger in his butt to check the dang thing anyway...why not do the surgery and save the money?)
I got up as I pulled the earbuds off and threw them on the desk. I didn't notice one bud land in my cup of tea. Until I went to put them on several minutes later, and by then it had been marinating for several minutes in my hot tea. A one ear earbud isn't good at all. It makes you dizzy and off balance. A perfect excuse to buy a new set.
Today we hunted all over Best Buy for a set...after I had taken my Samsung hard drive to the service counter to see about having my photos retrieved off of it. (That's another story.) I found some earbuds, and Stevie Wonder purchased them while I stood waiting and making funny faces at his back.
I put them on in the truck. I said: "say something so I can find out if I hear noise with these on"
Stevie Wonder said:
[ ]
That is right, he was being his normal idiot self and just mouthing at me.
I said: I can't hear a word you are saying. Good. Now we are both deaf and don't have to listen to each other.
Stevie had nothing else to say. I think. Because if he did, I couldn't hear him.
I love him... I married him 42+ years ago...but sometimes I snap...
True love is putting up with me I decided tonight...and he does...
He called...worried about me because I worked today and was in the building alone...and had been approached months ago by a stranger in the parking lot when I was leaving work long after everyone else was gone. He wanted to know if I was ok and out of the building.
I was more than ok...I was shopping for clothes for him and had my hands full when I heard the duck quacking (my ringtone for home).
I got the earbud wrapped around my packages and then my earring in my effort to answer the phone...so the mouthpiece was six inches from my mouth and I barely had the earbud in my ear...and couldn't really hear what he was saying...
Soooo...I basically shrieked at him...
WHAT DO YOU WANT?
He mumbled something...actually I think he was hollering back but I couldn't hear him...so I shrieked again....
I WILL BE HOME WHEN I GET HOME...I AM SHOPPING FOR YOU FFS! (You don't want to know what FFS stands for.)
He was trying to say something when I hung up on him.
Yes...I hung up on him...
After I got to the car I felt guilty. So I called him back...and said nicely that I was sorry...and asked what he wanted...that was when he told me he was just checking on me...
And it hit me...he loved me.
Happy almost Valentine's Day Stevie Wonder. I love you too.
This day, 42 years ago, it happened. I began a journey down an unknown road. I was nervous, excited, scared to death, and just young and stupid enough to take the plunge with blind faith in the person I chose to spend the rest of my life with.
I chose well. It's been a wonderful life. Ups, downs, and in betweens. Laughter, tears, anger, joy, all the emotions a human being is capable of. Three children, and four grandchildren. What a legacy!
Last night we were sitting in the hot tub and right before I stepped over into the water, I grabbed my iPhone and took a photo of Stevie Wonder. Instead of rolling his eyes, he graciously smiled for me. As we sat there enjoying our drinks and talking, we reminisced a bit about the times past. And for some reason my mum came up as the focal point. I started it:
me: this is the anniversary of the last date we had as single people. him: no, we didn't go out the night before we got married. Your mom wouldn't let us. She came over to the apartment and dumped out all our booze, because she didn't want me getting drunk the night before I had to drive to Reno. me: she did that? I didn't know she did that. (I had never heard that part of the story.) him: yep, she did. You know, your mom and I get along great (he was already on his second Canadian Club and Coke, hence the mellowness). me: that's because you live 2,000 miles from her. If you had lived in the same town, she'd probably hate you. (I had just begun to sip my wine, hence the sarcasm.) I remember a couple nights before we got married, and I figured there was no need for a curfew since I would be moving out in a couple days. Mum met me at the door when I got in late from our date. She got right in my face. And told me I wasn't married yet, and as long as I lived under her roof, I'd abide by her rules. (This was at about 1:30AM.) him: (laughing) me: yep, and I remember the pink champagne I just HAD to have for our wedding night. him: yep. You know, that stuff was $20 a bottle and in 1970, that wasn't cheap shit. (He drank the whole bottle and I didn't know until years later that he was up vomiting the rest of the night, in between bouts of romance. Frankly, I don't know how he survived that much sex and puking.) me: yep I hated that stuff. One sip and I was done. And I remember when we got back to the apartment, we had a wedding cake. No one was there, but we had a cake on the table waiting for us. him: yep and no booze. me: yep and I climbed into bed that night and discovered mum had short sheeted the bed. (Short sheeting lesson here.) him: (laughing) me: you know, it's no wonder I have a weird sense of humor. I get it from mum.
him: (still laughing)
And I bet you thought this post was going to be all sentimental and smarmy, huh?
I hate smarm, but oh...ok...here's some mushy music by the Four Aces to finish up with...
PS...Thanks for a good 42 years Stevie Wonder, and here's to forty two more.
Recent conversation with my 6 year old granddaughter Maddie:
Maddie: (pointing to the bridge of her own nose and rubbing it lightly) Grammy, is that where you got hit with the baseball bat?
Me: Yes Maddie it is. It hurt really bad for a few minutes, then I was ok. Oh, it bled a lot too. (She likes hearing about the blood.)
Gramps: (as he passes by and hears what we are talking about) And when I was in high school, my nose got hit when I was playing football, and got knocked clear over on the side of my face.
Maddie: It did Grammy?
maddie candyface
Me: Yes Maddie. Gramps and I both have noses that are crooked.
Maddie: Is that why you got married?
Me: Yes Maddie, that is why we got married. Our noses fit.
I started laughing and Maddie rolled her eyes at me in disgust and walked away.
After almost 42 years of marriage, conversation flows easily between Stevie Wonder and me. Like a river running downstream, our talk flows undeterred around rocks of contention.
Sometimes there is a witness. Even better, sometimes that witness is part of the ebb and flow of our conversation.
Ok, that sounds way too flowery and saccharine. The ugly truth is Stevie Wonder was yammering on about something. Wretch was sitting in the back seat of his truck, and we had just turned into the road to our home when she interjected:
"Dad, there's a cat running out in the road, be careful not to hit it."
I would love to be able to tell you exactly what Stevie Wonder was saying, but truthfully, Wretch and I can't remember. I texted her last night and asked. She said truthfully she was too worried about the cat to pay attention to what he was saying. So I'll wing it.
It sounded something like this:
SW: blah blah blah yep blah blah yep yep uh huh uh huh...blah
Wretch: Dad don't hit that cat.
SW: blah yada blah blah blah uh uh yep blah blah
Wretch: Dad, do you see that cat?
SW: blah blah yep yep, un uh, yada yada yada.
Me: I don't think he's listening.
SW: yada yada, blah blah blah... yada.
Wretch: Obviously. But at least he missed the cat.
SW: blah blah blah yada yep blah yep...
Me: And he doesn't even realize we just had a whole conversation in the middle of what he was saying.
Wretch: {speechless and laughing loudly}
SW: {quiet because he realizes we just said something, but has no idea what it was, and refuses to ask}
Me: {snorking in disgust}
SW: {continued silence}
Wretch is truly my child. And the cat saved itself.
