Blame it on the Rain

We have had kind of a rough start to the summer. Jonah has been sick with a bad cold this week (mostly just a cough that wears him out) and has been quite the grumpus, and the weather has been pretty rainy so we haven’t had too many chances for outdoor fun.  Yesterday, it was raining and storming quite a bit during the day, and we were all tired. I told the kids they needed to take a 30 minute reading break in their rooms. Jonah had been awake for awhile in the middle of the night because of his cough (therefore so had I) and I knew he was really worn out, so even though he doesn’t usually take naps, I decided to lay down with him to see if he’d drift off to sleep.

He was snoozing away in less than 15 minutes. I excitedly tiptoed downstairs hoping to actually GET SOME WORK DONE since he’d been pretty high-maintenance all week. But as soon as my feet hit the living room floor, I realized the pitter-patter of the heavy rain outside was a little TOO loud. I rain to the front door where I instantly saw and felt that water was pouring in my entryway ceiling.

Most of it was falling on our coat hooks which were still covered in winter coats (yay for me for never putting that stuff away!) but there was plenty of water on my hardwood floors, too. I ran upstairs and grabbed all the towels I could find, piled them on the floor, and then ran to the basement in search of a bucket. Then I removed all our poor coats and mopped up what water was on the floor. A little of the water was kind of missing the bucket and still hitting the coat rack, because it was coming in in kind of a wide area (yippee!) so I hung a towel ON the coat rack, too.

Then I collapsed on the couch. Not much else to do. Happily, the rain only lasted about 30 more minutes. And here’s what I am left with:

cracked ceiling

My entry way ceiling. It is plaster, and 97 years old, and we lost some plaster yesterday. But don’t you love my old light fixture?

bucket

Dirty water anyone? I think heaviest rain fell while I was upstairs with Jonah.

towel plaster 2

So anyway…that was awesome. Fortunately it’s not supposed to rain today, and my handy part-time roofer (full-time teacher) brother is coming over to check it out today to see what we need to do. Besides just wear ponchos all summer.

How’s YOUR summer break going!?!?

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Death is complicated.

This week has been an educational experience for me. We lost my grandpa on Tuesday, and the days between then and now have been filled with making arrangements and buying funeral clothes and ordering flowers and locating paperwork and calling long-lost family and friends.

To be honest, all the things that have to be done when someone dies works out well for a process-driven person like me. He wasn’t gone for two hours before I wanted to be DOING something. So I googled “things to do when someone dies” and made myself some lists.

I keep thinking, though, about what a freaking nightmare this would be under other circumstances. Grandpa was old and very ill, and while we are all sad to see him go, we all consider his peaceful passing a blessing. His funeral was pre-arranged and paid for, his assets had been relinquished to pay for his nursing home care long ago. There’s not much to do – but there’s a ton of things to do.

I can only imagine how awful all this would be if we were in complete shock and utterly grief-stricken.

Death is complicated. And it sucks.

So, um, happy Friday?!?

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A Heart of Gold.

My grandpa passed away yesterday.

He had been fighting pneumonia since Sunday, and fighting dementia for many years.

I feel like we lost him a long time ago.

But this is it, time to google “logistical things to do when someone dies” and say our final goodbyes.

My very first memory involves my grandpa – my sister was born when I was 21 months old, and she spent a week at Dayton Children’s Hospital in the NICU. There was a slide there, red and white if I recall, and I remember my grandpa catching me at the bottom.

He’s in just about all of my memories after that.

Sitting in the stands at my basketball games, popping out of the crowd to snap a picture as we marched by with the band, making sure to rinse the freezer burn off my Pudding Pop before slathering it with peanut butter.

When I was very young – probably 7 or 8 – my grandma and I were talking about Grandpa, and what she told me has stuck with me all these years.

“He has a heart of gold, and he’d do anything in the world for you girls.”

She was right on both accounts.

Goodbye, Grandpa. We’ll miss you.

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