Sunday, April 5, 2009

I love being a Nana!

Well, this was so far a great weekend. My energy is getting a little bit better every day and I am starting to look forward to things. That's a big deal! Friday was my appointment with a new Doctor, a Homeopathic Dr. and he was wonderful. I do believe that he sees me as an individual and not as just another patient. One thing that he said that really touched me was, "Lynn, we just need to know why your body got cancer again, we need to look at everything in your body to see what is not functioning right?" He was very positive and kind, and I believe right ...on with the suggestions, that he made about my body and my immune system. Anyway, I will see him again next month and truly feel like he will be the one to take me down the road to HEALTH. I am excited!

I got an email from the ladies at the hospital that I met with the latest information about the positive progress and changes that are being made. How grateful I am that I took the time, to express my concerns to that nurse at the beginning of my treatments. How grateful I am to her for getting me in touch with the right people.

The best news that we found out in the past few days is ....WE ARE GOING TO HAVE ANOTHER GRANDDAUGHTER! Yes, Amy  had her ultrasound and we found that we have another girl on the way. We were all shocked because we thought for sure it was a boy. To be honest with you, I don't care either way, I just pray that she is healthy. They had boy names picked out so now they are having to start all over.

I must be feeling better because... I am starting to design a couple of new quilts, that is the other good news...I have two nieces that are pregnant and will have their babies this year too. I love being an AUNT, it is right up there with being a NANA. So I will leave with a couple of quotes and a cute story about a Grandma and her grandson. I hope I can have the same wisdom as a NANA?

Baby Names - Name Badge Ticker(This is the counter that Amy has on her blog...cute!)

"A grandmother is a mother who has a second chance."
Author Unknown

                                              Grandma and Santa

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let's go." "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun.
"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through it's doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's. I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself.
The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all the kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he had no coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that. "Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially one of Santa's helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk.
Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby. Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team. I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95
                                                                                      _____Author Unknown


"Grandchildren are God's way of compensating us for growing old."

" Grandchildren are loving reminders of what we're really here for"

(Thanks Lauren for the photo)

1 comment:

GPa Mike said...

Hi Lynnie

Jan has a cute little picture hanging somewhere around here that says, "Grandmothers are just antique little girls." Kinda sweet.

You sound like you're starting to feel better...I'm glad. I hope this continues. Keep hangin'. Call me soon.