guest blog post

Guest Post | That thing called motivation

May 9, 2019 filed under: fitness, guest blog post

Today, I invited my friend Tanja to take over my blog and help me keep this space alive while I am in Germany visiting family and friends.

Hi, my name is Tanja and I have been living in the US for almost 12 years.

I’m, like San, a German (dual) citizen and met San through the blogosphere where I realized quickly that we have a lot in common. The first time San and I met in real life was 2016. Right away it felt like we had known each other for years. In 2017 San joined me and my mom for a (vacation)day in San Francisco and ever since mom is telling me to say “Hi” to San, whenever we talk.

Just a few weeks ago San flew out to Orange County to spend a whole weekend with me (my husband and doggies) – we had sooo much fun and now I dislike it even more that we don’t live closer to each other.

One thing we have in common is being active. As we all know, San loves to run. Myself, on the other hand, can’t seem to find any joy in running – I tried really hard tho. However, I like to move this body, I like hiking (who doesn’t like the outdoors?) and my indoor spinning class. Lucky me, I also have a little garage-gym where I can work on gaining a bit more strength. And count me in whenever there is a new gym or workout class wich offers a free trial!

I often get asked how I motivate myself to work out as often as I do.

It wasn’t always that way, it actually started just a few years ago, when I realized I have an eating disorder – it’s self-diagnosed and nothing as serious as bulimia. I started my first diet when I was about 11 years old and ever since can call myself the perfect example of yo-yo-dieting (#sarcasmout). Unfortunately, I can’t just have one piece of anything – if you place something/anything in front of me (even if I don’t like it that much) often my, what I call, dog-behavior comes out – I eat it with no hesitation in no time (you can call yourself lucky if you are fast enough to get a piece yourself – lol). So if I give myself the permission to eat a piece of something I might become my own enabler.

Whenever I was “successful” with my diet, it made me not only feel “in control”, also my back started to feel better (I was born with minor back and join issues). Again, it took me years to put one and one together.

However, at one point I realized that I have only one shot at this thing called life and I want to be able to look back at it and say, I did whatever I could to live a fun, adventurous, healthy life. Not sure when it happened or what triggered it.

But ever since, I wanted to do as much as possible to feel good in my own body. While I have good phases regarding my little eating problem, I still have moments where I screw up, big time. However, working out regularly (might) balance this out a bit, at least in my head.

Of course there are days where I don’t feel it at all. I wake up with a headache or feel the back pain more intensely at the end of the day, right before my scheduled spin class. And while it is very important to listen to your body, I personally have come to the realization that I’d rather try my planned workout and stop when it might become too much, instead of not giving it a shot at all. I have too often taken things / aches / pains as an excuse and I don’t want to slip into this behavior again. So, if I’m not crying out in pain (this is of course over exaggerated!!!) I’d rather bite the bullet and give it a try. No shame in stopping midway if it doesn’t get better or feels uncomfortable or even painful. Most of the time a little adjustment and/or alternative movement can also help me get through a workout.

While I always love to give 110 percent, I know my body well enough to understand that sometimes I just can’t give that much. But hey, anything is better than doing nothing…. don’t you agree?!?

Please don’t forget, this is just my own way of getting over my weaker self.

My favorite quote became my mantra: Live the life you love, love the life you live. I got it tattooed on my wrist so I can remind myself whenever it’s necessary.

So the short answer to the question where I find my motivation to workout 5-7 times a week is: I simply want to feel good, until the end of my time!

Guest post | Book recommendations

July 17, 2015 filed under: books, guest blog post

My friend Kristen is filling in for me while I am at Yosemite National park enjoying time with my family.

Kristen and I met many years ago online and we have a shared love for books, family, and real talk. I’ve come to appreciate her kindness and honesty which comes straight from the heart. If you are interested in some fantastic book recommendations – I already read some of her suggestions myself! – read on!

You should also check out Kristen’s blog LifeByKristen.com and you can find her on Twitter @LifeByKristenC.

Hi there! Kristen from LifeByKristen.com here! I’ve been blogging over at my site for about 3-ish years.

I am so happy to be posting while San is enjoying some quality family time. I’ve long been a reader of her blog and she is definitely one of my favorite people on the internet. I’m still sad I missed an opportunity to meet her IRL a few years ago! San graciously gave me free reign to write about something of interest to me, and as I know she is a fellow book lover, I thought writing about my favorite reading genre would be fun.

I think my interest in this genre began with the American Girl books ( Kirsten was my favorite). I’m a history nut- part of the reason I chose a career in museums is because I love learning about people, places, events, and objects from the past. I enjoy reading historical fiction for the same reasons. As a writer myself, I can also appreciate and respect the creativity that comes with creating a new story from an actual event. In my opinion, it takes a whole other level of research and thinking to try to frame a story around a series of well-defined facts and people.

If you’re a fan of historical fiction, there are books out there that meet just about every time period or major historical event. There are even time-traveling, vampire-filled historical fiction books! For me, I’ve found I enjoy historical fiction that is character-driven, usually with a love story or some sort of drama or intrigue built into it. I tend to read a lot with female main characters, and seem to have more than my fair share with plots that center around World War II. With that in mind, here are a few of my favorites to recommend!

The Baker Towers by Jennifer Haigh—this book is easily on my top ten favorite books of all time. I read it almost in one sitting. It follows a family in a Pennsylvania mining town from the days after World War II through the modern era. I especially enjoyed this because each part is told from a different family member perspective, another element of fiction I tend to go after. Haigh is a masterful storyteller—I’ve devoured every single one of her books and she is the first author I recommend to people looking something new. News from Heaven is a recent collection of her short stories that is a companion piece to Baker Towers.

Anne of the Wild Rose Inn by Jennifer Armstrong—a YA book that I originally read while in junior high, this is a series of novels that feature a different girl ‘of the Wild Rose Inn’ during various time periods. While I’ve read a number of them, this was my first and about the American Revolution, specifically the events in Concord and Boston, MA. I was born in Concord, so take some strange connection to the American Revolution as a historical interest. This book is classic teenage romance.

The Boston Girl by Anita Diamant- I was captivated by the main character and learned about some events and places in the Boston-area that I am familiar with, but didn’t know much about. Super enjoyable read. Also recommend The Red Tent by her- story of Old Testament of the Bible from a lesser known woman’s perspective.

The Future Homemakers of America by Laurie Graham – I can’t remember where I picked up this book, but it was one of those finds where I laughed so much when reading. It follows a group of women who are military wives, all thrown together when living on a military base in England together during World War II. It follows the gals through the years and takes in a lot of the social and cultural history of America after World War II.

Sarah’s Key by Tatiana de Rosnay- Heartbreaking, but lovely story of lesser known events involving French Jews during days leading up to the outbreak of World War II. Could barely put it down!

Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen- 1930s traveling circus with an amazing elephant. I have a soft spot for elephants, so I was destined to love this book. Do not see the movie- doesn’t even come close to doing this amazing tale justice. I’m anxious to read her new book (At the Water’s Edge) — #70 out of 189 on my library wait list for it!

Loving Frank by Nancy Horan- I bought this book when Borders closed and it sat on my bookshelf forever, but when I picked it up on a lazy summer weekend, I read it in almost one sitting. I knew a bit about Frank Lloyd Wright’s life, but this is told from the perspective of his mistress. I love when historical fiction gives me just enough information to then go out and want to learn more.

For quick, light romantic, historically based reads, I recommend Sara Jio’s books- My favorite is Goodnight June.

I could go on and on, but if you have any other recommendations, I’d love to have them!

Guest post| A Story of Friendship

July 13, 2015 filed under: friends, guest blog post

Today, my friend Stephany is filling in for me while I am haning out in the Bay Area with my family.

I’ve been reading Stephany’s blog for a few years now and I’ve always felt that she’s been a very authentic and genuine person. She’s not afraid to talk about uncomfortable things and share her own journey. Today she’ll share some thoughts (and wise words) on friendship.

If you want to read more from Stephany, she blogs at stephanywrites.com and you can also follow her on Twitter @stephanywrites and on Instagram @stephanywrites.

Friendship is something I’ve always struggled with. It was easier when I was a child. I made friends with people in my classes and had neighborhood friends that I would spend all my free time with. There’s something so incredible about how easy it is to make friends as a child. We’re all dying for connection, right? We all want to connect with others, even when we’re five years old and sharing a shovel with a stranger in the sandbox.

In high school, I had a core group of girlfriends. I loved those girls, but I never felt as if I could be fully myself. Once, one of the girls even told me I was boring, something that haunted me from that moment on. (I now fully embrace being boring!) When I left for college, I knew those friendships would fade in my past, and they did.

Next was college and boy, did I struggle. I tried living on campus because I wanted that normal college experience. Slumber parties and inside jokes and late night studying. But college was nothing like I expected it to be. My roommate and I didn’t get along and after a year, I moved back home and became a commuter student. I never developed those lifelong college friendships that most people seem to have. I was shy and I kept to myself. And I had other non-school obligations that didn’t allow for spending a ton of time on campus, joining clubs and hanging out.

Throughout college, my only real friend was my mom. And my mom is amazing and my best friend to this day, but there’s something totally different in having girlfriends your age. But I was too shy and too insecure in myself to reach out to others, so I didn’t form strong relationships with anyone at my school.

It’s been four years since I graduated. And in those four years, I have made it a priority to develop friendships with girls my age. I’m an introvert and I am incredibly shy, so opening myself up and trying new social groups is something that is sometimes downright impossible for me.

Beyond that, though, I knew that cultivating strong female friendships was important. It was vital to my well-being.

My first step was to join a book club. I am a voracious reader, so this made perfect sense. I found a group through Meetup.com, but it took me over a year to summon up the courage to join. (I told you I was shy!)

I went to my first book club meeting in October of 2012 and though I agonized about going and tried to talk myself out of it, I went and it was a fantastic time. Since then, I’ve been to just about every book club meeting and have made some of my closest friendships. I’ve gone on a cruise with some of the girls and started a writing group with another girl. I love these girls dearly and I can’t imagine my life without them. They are “my people.”

After my book club girls, there are my coworkers. Let me tell you how fortunate I feel to have made such wonderful friends through work. Maybe some believe that coworkers should be just that: people you work with. But oh, it is wonderful to work with some of my favorite friends. One coworker in particular has become my best friend, someone I can’t imagine my life without. Someone I’ve grown so close to that I’ve made plans to become roommates with her next month.

This is something I didn’t believe could happen for me. I didn’t believe strong female friendship was possible for me. Maybe it was because, growing up, I didn’t have friends who really supported me and loved me for who I was. Or maybe it was because college was such a lonely, dark time in my life. I wasn’t the girl people made plans with, I suppose. I was the shy, quiet, introverted girl. The one who was content to stand on the sidelines.

I mean sure, my social calendar still isn’t buzzing with events. I still don’t have a ton of friends. But I’ve never been one who has needed to have a ton of friends. I’ve always looked for quality friendships over quantity friendships. As an introvert, I get worn out from too much social interaction anyway and I need a ton of alone time to feel like myself.

My life feels so different from that lonely college girl, the one who didn’t have friends and didn’t know how to make them. I’ve invested in friendships and though they might not be the lifelong friendships so many people my age have, this is the way my story is being told. A story about a lonely girl who was too shy to invest into friendships until she found the confidence to do so. I’ve formed strong bonds with girls I love to my bones.

And though it takes some work to maintain these friendships, it’s something I do with much gratitude and gladness, because I know what it was like before and I never want to be that lonely girl ever again.

Guest post |Cupcakes anyone?

July 10, 2015 filed under: food, guest blog post, recipe

Today my friend Holly is filling in for me while I am in Las Vegas on vacation with my family.

I’ve known Holly and have been reading her blog for a few years now and truly enjoy her stories about family life with her husband and two kids in Edmonton, Alberta. Holly is one of the sweetest and kindest persons that you’ll meet on the Internet and you should definitely check out her blog scattered-words.net and follow her on Twitter@scattered_words.

Holly shares an easy, tried and tested (and pre-schoolers-approved!) recipe for vanilla cupcakes. Who doesn’t like cupcakes?

First and foremost, let me say that I am no expert when it comes to baking. I watch a couple of shows on the Food Network every now and then, and last year I was inspired to purchase a Groupon for an online cooking course (that I never completed!) – but that’s the extent of my “qualifications” to be sharing a recipe. The Truth: Until May of this year, every cake and cupcake I have ever made has come out of a box.

In May, I volunteered to bring cupcakes to my son’s preschool to celebrate his birthday. I didn’t want to look like a fool in front of the Pinterest moms so I knew I needed to up my game.

After an evening of scouring the Internet, this is what I found:

https://deliciouslysprinkled.com/vanilla-cupcakes/

It looked simple enough, and I already had all of the ingredients on hand, so I decided to give it a try!

Ingredients:

Cupcakes:

1 ¼ cups all purpose flour
½ tsp baking powder
¼ tsp baking soda
¼ tsp salt
2 large eggs
1 cup granulated sugar
½ cup unsalted butter (softened)
1 ½ tsp vanilla extract
½ cup sour cream

Frosting:

1 cup unsalted butter (softened)
2 ½ cups powdered sugar
1 Tbsp vanilla extract
1 Tbsp heavy whipping cream
Sprinkles if desired

Directions:

To make the cupcakes:

Pre-heat the oven to 350ºF. Line muffin tins with cupcake liners. Set aside. In a medium bowl, mix flour baking powder, baking soda and salt. Set aside.
In a large bowl, using an electric or stand mixer on medium speed, beat eggs and sugar until light and creamy (about 2 minutes). Add the butter and vanilla extract and beat on low until well blended (about 1 minute). Add the dry ingredients and beat on low until blended. Don’t overmix! (If you do your cupcakes will not be light and fluffy. Trust me, I’ve done it!) Add the sour cream and beat until smooth.

Fill each cupcake liner about ¾ of the way full with cupcake batter. The original recipe states that it will make 12 cupcakes but I usually make 18 slightly smaller cupcakes. My kids really don’t need any extra sugar! Bake approximately 18 minutes, or until toothpick inserted in centre comes out clean. Allow cupcakes to cool before frosting.

To make the frosting:

Mix softened butter on medium speed with an electric or stand mixer for 30 seconds or until smooth and creamy. Add powdered sugar, heavy whipping cream and vanilla extract. Increase to high speed and beat for 3 minutes. Add more cream if needed for spreading consistency. Frost and decorate!

They were so amazing that four kids actually cried because I only brought enough for everyone to have one. Okay, so I’m sure some kids would probably cry just because it was a cupcake, never mind how fantastic it was, but still. I consider that a rave review!

Guest post | Locate: Home

July 6, 2015 filed under: family, guest blog post

Today, my friend Marie is filling in for me while I am away hanging out with my family at the Grand Canyon.

I don’t exactly remember how I met Marie in the endless realms of the Internet, but it’s more important that I did indeed find her.
I feel like she and I, we’re a lot alike – personality-wise, but also when it comes to our living circumstances. We both deal with the joys and pitfalls of being expats in a foreign country; one of the pitfalls being that we’ll always miss our families just a little bit too much. Marie explores what “home” means to her in her post today and I can relate so much.

If you’d like to get to know her a little more (and you definitely should!), Marie blogs at mariescafe.com and shares her photos on Instagram @_grabacup_.

I always thought the phrase “home is where the heart is” was such a cheesy cliche. But in a way it’s true. Home is where you feel the most loved, safe, and take the most comfort.

For me, that has always been my parents until I met and later married Matt. Let me start with my parents. We moved around a lot as I was growing up (not a military brat), from country to country, different cities, and sometimes just different houses within the same city. Wherever my parents went, I went (of course) and so I have always associated home to be them. Home for me is not a physical location.

In 2002, I left my “home” to come to the U.S. to study for my master’s and I knew that I would never be going back to where my parents are and currently reside (Lebanon, the country, where we are originally from). I was ok with that for a little while, but the older you get, the more you realize that the most important things in life are the people you love. Which leads to wanting to spend more time with them.

While my parents never stopped being home to me, my home grew a little bigger with Matt. I found comfort in that, especially since I could only see my parents infrequently due to the immense physical distance between us.

It’s still difficult, though, and I find myself wanting to be around my parents the older we all get. Life is so very precious and every passing moment is gone right before our very eyes. We can’t get those moments back.

I miss them terribly and I’m only ever able to see them about two weeks or so out of the year, unless they are able to visit (which isn’t always the case).

I worry about them, about who will take care of them as they grow older, and about their safety in a country that has always been in political turmoil.

The age of technology and the internet has allowed us to connect easily, but it doesn’t replace face to face contact. Holidays are missed, quick visits are impossible, even something as simple as sharing a meal is difficult.

Still, I’m grateful for all I have and for Matt. And for all the friends I have made here. Life is made infinitely better with them around.

If only someone could create teleportation technology and allow for instant travel. I’d be the first in line to try it out.

Beam me up Scotty.

Guest post | Dream big

June 29, 2015 filed under: Expat stories, guest blog post

Today, my friend Kat is filling in for me while I am embarking on a road-trip down the coast with my family.

Kat has been a dear friend and long-time favorite blogger of mine for years now. She’s a fellow German with a huge amount of wanderlust and she just recently made her dream come true and up and moved to Sweden on a one-way ticket. Today she wants you to know that the only right way to live life is by dreaming big.

If you want to read more about Kat’s adventures in Sweden, check out her blog hejstockholm.com and you can follow her on Twitter @oceansaway.

I packed my life into a suitcase and moved from Germany to Stockholm, Sweden in February 2015. By that point, I had considered moving to Sweden for a good four years but always found reasons not to. They were valid reasons such as that I didn’t speak Swedish, didn’t have a job waiting for me in Sweden and didn’t have any money saved up. The risk I would be taking seemed overwhelming: what if I didn’t find a job right away? What would I do then? I’d have no one and nothing to fall back on.

The reason I wanted to move in the first place is that I fell head over heels in love with Sweden during a study abroad that I spent in the south of the country. Many of the things people tend to list as reasons not to move here are actually on my pro list: long winters, lots of snow, reserved and introverted people. But there is also this: endless amounts of light and joy during the summer months; waters and forests as far as the I can see (true wilderness!) and few big cities; holidays like Midsummer and Lucia that I thought only existed in the children’s books my mom read to my brother and I when we were growing up; culture and politics rooted in equality, social conscience und common sense. It’s hard to sum up exactly why I love Sweden so much more than Germany or anywhere else I’ve been. Can’t explain love, right?

Speaking of love. The first question anyone asks me in my new chosen home is whether my boyfriend is Swedish. (I wish! Heh.) It’s an immediate assumption everyone makes that I wasn’t really prepared for. According to the majority of people, it seems like the only reason I could’ve possibly decided to come here is that I met a Swede and followed him to his home country. It can be an awkward situation to have to explain that I came here by myself because I wanted this for myself. The most common reaction is empathy and pity. „So… you’re all alone?“, some people will say. „Doesn’t that get lonely? And boring? And scary?“

It is none of those things, and in today’s guest post here on San’s lovely blog I‘d like to tell you why.

These past three months have without a doubt been the best three months of my life. I’ve never been this happy. I’ve never felt this confident about a decision and so glad, in retrospect, to have taken the risk. It feels wonderful to have made this happen for myself, and I now feel like I can take on any other challenge by myself as well.

I’m unsure if it is the cause or the result of a life steeped in wanderlust and wanting to escape, but I love being by myself. I’m an introvert, I suffer from social anxiety, I’m fearful of new things. I’m a very unlikely candidate for a move to a foreign country, is what I’m saying. But here’s what I learned: The dream has to be bigger than the fear – and it’ll work out. I’m afraid all the time, of dozens of things, every single day. But if the dream is bigger than the fear, I push through. Moving to Sweden meant facing one fear after the other, but the dream was bigger than the fear.

And you know what – since I’m getting all life-lesson-y about this, anyway – here’s another thing: Don’t tell your dreams to small-minded people. That’s a Steve Harvey quote, which is so random, I know, but it’s a damn good quote. I told people in my immediate environment about plans to move to Stockholm and they doubted that I, the introverted loner, could ever manage to attempt this. Surround yourself with like-minded people instead. Having a dream is not stupid or juvenile or idealistic – anyone who has made their dream come true will tell you that. I am telling you that.

In conclusion: Dream big. Dream up something overwhelming and impossible to do all by yourself, and dream beyond, to a place past fear and worry. Then go for it. Just do it. I promise you it’s worth it.

DIY: clipboard project by Celeste

February 17, 2012 filed under: crafts, DIY, guest blog post

Hi The In Between Is Mine readers!

I’m Celeste from Life as Twiggy blog and today I’m sharing a small DIY clipboard project that I’ve been working on. I had my first craft show this past weekend and I needed a clipboard to hold my email sheets. I couldn’t stand the appearance of the plain brown clipboard so I gathered up some catalog clippings and made it more colorful and exciting!

Here’s how I went about making it…

Start off by searching through your favorite magazines and/or catalogs for inspirational images. I save all my Anthropologie, Urban Outfitters, and Free People magazines. Projects like these are perfect reasons why I do so. These catalogs have inspiration written all over them.

and wah-la! You have jazzed up a boring & plain clipboard into something crafty & creative. If anyone tackles a project like this, please submit it for me to see! I would love to share what other creative minds come up with on my blog.

Thanks for having me San….& happy day everyone!

Guest Post: Kim makes Jam

August 3, 2011 filed under: food, guest blog post, recipe

hey everyone, i’m kim from notcrazyunwell.com and am happy to guest post for san, while she’s hopefully enjoying every minute of her family’s visit!

i promised a little while ago on my blog to post a DIY about how i made jam and figured it’d be a nice thing to share with san’s readers as well. it’s easy-breezy (seriously, don’t be scared. if i can do it, you can do it!) and i can’t believe i haven’t tried it before. i don’t think i’ll be buying jam at the store any time soon … also, i think a glass of homemade jam makes a great little gift.

so, here it goes:

the first thing would actually be to prepare the glasses. i placed the lids in a small pot with hot water on the stove to sterilize them. let the water get to an almost-boil and then turn off the stove. you can just leave the lids in the water until right before you want to fill the jam into the glasses. i also washed the glasses with really hot water before putting them into a small baking pan.

i then set the oven to 50-80 degrees C (about 120-170 degrees F) and put the glasses in the oven to keep them sterile and warm (so they won’t burst when i fill them with hot jam.) that’s where they get to rest comfortably while i get to the actual jam-making. :)

now, for my first try i decided to do a little something “different” (but not too fancy) and made strawberry-blackberry-banana jam (with the largest proportion being the strawberries).

i chopped all fruit up and ended up with 1 kg of it, which is exactly what i needed for the amount of canning sugar i bought. i cut the fruit into small pieces, put it in a pot and started blending.

next step would be to add the canning sugar. i like to use canning sugar that’s at least 2:1 (or 3:1) which means i use 2 (or 3) parts fruit + only 1 part sugar. in this case i used the 2:1 kind = 1000 g fruit + 500g canning sugar.

now stir and bring the pureed fruit-sugar-mix to a boil. continue according to the instructions on the canning sugar package.

mine said to boil (while stirring) for about 4 minutes and then ceck, if if the jam would consolidate by putting a small amount on a cold plate. i did that, it got harder quickly so i figured it was done :) i turned off the stove, got the glasses out of the oven, put them on a (warm, damp) kitchen towel, fished the lids out of the water and started pouring the jam into the glasses. when you’re done, close the glasses tightly and place them upside down for about thirty minutes.

turn them around again and let them cool off (preferrably over night). then get up in the morning all giddy and excited and enjoy a slice of (fresh) bread with butter and your homemade jam. sooooo good.

optional: i actually made small labels for the jam and covered a few of the glasses with some cute fabric to give away to friends. isn’t this the cutest little surprise gift ever?

i hope you enjoyed my little DIY and it’d be great to hear some time if you tried it yourself and how you liked your homemade jam.
xoxo,
kim

More fond memories of Granddads

March 12, 2010 filed under: family, guest blog post

Today I bring you a guest post from my blogger friend EmmySuh, who will introduce herself (and how we “met”) in her guest post for today :) Emmy was so nice as to volunteer as well to help me keep this blog going while I am away and she’ll also share some memories from her granddads with us. Thanks so much, Emmy! It’s nice to see that others have good relationships and fond memories with their grandparents as well.

—————————-

Hi ya’ll!

Little background – my name is Emily, sometimes known as Emmy, and I blog at https://emmysuh.rachieann.com

It’s a whirlwind of insanity and hyperbole and choreography and poems and ridiculous antics over there, feel free to come visit me.

Anyway, I offered to guest post for San – San and I met via a mutual blogger friends, and got to know each other more while I was in Germany last summer. (My heritage is German, and German was my minor at school.)

When I asked what I should blog about, San said maybe something about my grandparents, in honor of her grandfather.

Unfortunately, within the last two years, both of my own grandfathers died – my dad’s dad from complications of Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s in May 2008, and my mom’s dad from colon cancer in February 2009.

It seems insane that my grandfather died right about this time last year. I still get caught with an ache in my chest every once in a while when I think about the hole in my world where he should be.

So, in honor of my grandfathers, and San’s recently deceased grandfather, and to all of ya’ll’s grandparents, living or dead, I’d like to repost what I wrote the week after my grandfather’s death in late February last year.

Hope you enjoy, and that it makes you think of a few precious memories of your own family, and cherish your time with them.

“First of all, I’d like to tell you just a little bit about my Grandpa (mom’s dad) who died this weekend.

The greatest thing about my Grandpa was his chuckle. A very jolly, solid sort of chuckle. I remember it well from my childhood, when I would be sitting on his lap whether we were overseeing the pastures on the tractor or on the porch swing or just on a bench in the gazebo. I’d say something cute and five-year-old-ish and his chuckle would reverberate through his chest, and in turn, make me giggle. It was always really comforting.

Grandpa was always a teacher. Sometimes this was annoying — when we just wanted to lay and bask in the sun poolside, he’d be coaxing us to learn how to do lifeguarding techniques, bringing out piles of his clothes for us to try on so we could attempt to tread water while weighed down. Sometimes, this was really sweet — from my childhood, I remember learning how to drive a tractor, ride a horse or swing a golf club.

He was always working, could never stand to sit still except after a long day of productivity. My mom’s half-brother said that even the last week before he went to the hospital, he was raking leaves at the ranch, although he was supposed to be resting. He really, really loved my mom and her siblings, and he really, really loved my sisters and me. Even when I would be annoyed about him asking what I was going to do with a Creative Writing degree in a skeptical tone, I still knew that he really, really loved me.

At first, when we heard the news, I was mainly sad for my mom. When I came home from Alvin Ailey [dance company performance I went to the night he died], she was sitting in the dark living room, by a picture of him and a lit candle. She kept saying things like, “I just don’t want to look away from this picture, he looks like he could step out and start talking to you.” or “He would hate being an invalid, that just wasn’t him.” or “He loved you girls so much. I remember how you all would run to greet him when he got home from work, and he just loved that.”

So I was so sad for my mom, because we very rarely see her like this. But today, for some inexplicable reason, I’ve just felt a darkness over my soul, and I couldn’t figure out why. I wanted to update the blog about my grandpa, and as I started writing, I started tearing up. (Sidebar: I’m at work. I had to duck into the copy room and dab my eyes. My chin keeps quivering. It’s awesome.)

It’s not that I didn’t think I did miss my grandfather, I just didn’t realize how much I would. Because he lived (ooo just had to change ”lives” to “lived” WEIRD) in Florida, because we live in Kentucky, because we’re not always super stable financially, because I’m a full-time student…we haven’t been able to connect/visit much over the past few years. I regret so much that I didn’t have a chance to see him one more time before he died — it’s been a couple years, at least. But he was a hugely important part of my life when I was younger, and once I started thinking about memories of him, I found several fond ones.

He was a good man, a loving father and grandfather, and he will be missed.

Memories

March 11, 2010 filed under: family, guest blog post

Since I am still in Germany and haven’t had much time online, I have three lovely ladies fill in for me this week. Today I bring you a guest post from Amy, one of my newer blogger friends and fellow crocheter :)
Congenial to my recent posts about my Granddad, she’ll be sharing some memories from her grandparents with us. Thank you, Amy! I’ll be back with an update soon.

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When I was a little girl, I used to eagerly await the hot days of summer. Not just because school was out, but because I knew that summer meant the thing that was the highlight of most years: a trip to visit my grandparents.

My grandparents lived in Arizona, just outside of Phoenix. Sometimes, we would drive from my house in Northern California, me situated in between the two of them in their Mazda pickup truck, with Papa telling me stories and Grandma feeding me snacks and the three of us laughing and playing 20 Questions the whole drive there.

Arizona seemed like a magical place to me. The unforgiving heat meant that we could swim for hours in the neighbor’s pool. There was black cherry vanilla frozen yogurt and trips to the library for an endless stack of books. As I got older, I learned to type on their Mac’s while they worked on their consulting business. I cried whenever it was time to go home, because I had such a good time seeing them. Throughout the year, I came to expect a weekly phone call, letters with a stick of Carefree gum and to know that at least a few symphony concerts or soccer games a year, my grandparents would be in the audience. I never doubted their love, or their prescence, even from far away.

These childhood visits laid the foundation for two of the most important relationships in my life, still. When I am in the middle of a hard time, I know I can call on my grandparents to love me, to listen to me, and to support me however they can.

I know that San is grieving the loss of the grandfather she loved so dearly. And I know that someday, probably sooner than I would like, I will face this situation myself. But until then, I will call my grandparents, and revel in those warm Arizona afternoons, from long ago…