Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
my grandpa
Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Army(Retired), 90, passed away, Monday April 13, 2009. He was born February 27,1919. He owned and operated his business for over 40 years. He served on City Council for 13 years. He was a member of his home church since he was a teenager. He was an Army Veteran of World War II, he enlisted in October 1939 and advanced to Sgt. He was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant in July 1942 and advanced to Captain in March 1944, commanding a Field Artillery Battery in North Africa and Italy. He participated in the Rome-Arno, North Apennines Mountains and Po Valley campaigns. He was promoted to Major at the end of the war. He transferred his commission to the Army Reserve after active duty and after various assignments. He was selected Commanding Officer of Transportation Battalion and was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. He retired February 27, 1979 with a total of 39 years and 4 months active and reserve duty combined. He received several awards including the Bronze Star Medal for meritorious service in combat from July 11, 1944 to July 2, 1945.
This is some of what was written in his obituary. He was very proud of his accomplishments as he deserved to be proud. He proudly served his country. This was a HUGE part of his life.
He couldn't wait for a chance to get to wear his uniform. Many days over the past few months he didn't need a reason. I'm told he just wore it anyway! But seriously, he wore his uniform in the heat of the 4th of July parade in the back of a convertible car. Every year for several years up until recently, he presented the Retired Officers Association awards at three local high schools.
Some funny memories I have of my grandpa that I don't want to forget.
When I would spend the night with my grandma and grandpa, I would sleep in their room with my grandma. Grandpa would sleep in one of the spare rooms. I can still see it plain as day watching him walk down the hall to bed with his back to us wearing his boxers and those black dress socks pulled up to near his knees! Ha! Grandma and I were sitting in bed giggling about it. I can still hear us laughing!
My grandpa would go to coffee every morning as far back as I can remember. He would meet up with many of the businessmen, young and old, to talk about the latest news over a couple of cups of coffee and breakfast. I remember going with him when I was younger and then even when I was older he would call and invite me to go with him. Of course me being almost 20 and basically rolling out of bed on a Saturday morning I wasn't really thinking of actually getting myself presentable to go eat breakfast with a bunch of old men! This one morning he came and picked me up and I remember that he kept looking over at me in the car. He finally asked me if I was going to put on some lipstick. Ha! I told him I didn't have any with me and he asked if I wanted to stop off at the house to put some on! Funny! One thing about him was that he was always dressed up even just to be around the house. He always wore dress slacks and shirt and dress shoes. It wasn't until the past several years that he started wearing jeans sometimes. I remember how strange it was to see him in jeans.
My grandpa had dementia and it became extremely severe over the past few years. Heartbreaking. In February we traveled to see him for what was suppose to be his 90th Birthday Party but in the days prior to his party he fell and cracked the pivoting ball in his hip. We spent that weekend at the hospital for his surgery. In March, we found out his surgery basically didn't work and he would require a second surgery. Again because of his dementia and his last experience in the hospital, he would need someone by side at all times if possible because he would forget where he was and why he was there and would try and get up. I made arrangements for my kids to be taken care of and headed that way. I basically camped out at the hospital for 4 days. I seriously didn't think he was strong enough to make it through yet another surgery. He did! He absolutely amazed me at his strength and pain tolerance.
He couldn't always remember my name but he knew who I was and that I belonged to him. During one of the days in the hospital he had a ton of visitors (church members and hospital staff). At one time there were several in the room at the same time. All of us standing around and near his bed. He was sitting up looking around at each of us shaking hands and carrying on a conversation the best he could and I know he was trying to figure out who everyone was. One lady asked him if the nurse standing next to his bed was family. He looked at the person she was referring and said "NO". He looked over and pointed to me and said very matter of fact "that one is mine, she belongs to me"!
I don't understand dementia and how it affects the mind differently at different moments in regard to speech. Most of the time grandpa would be intently telling me something (making a comment, telling a story, asking a question). I know he knew what he was saying but all I could hear was a mumble. I was so frustrated because I wanted so desperately to understand him and would listen for even one word I could understand so I could converse back. Again...heartbreaking. I know that if he was talking it was something good. At other moments I could understand him and oh how I held on to those words. Then there were the times when he would go on a journey back in time and it was strange because during those moments he spoke very clearly. I would join him in his journey and it was fine.
The morning of his surgery I was somewhat surprised to find him alone in the preop room. Not totally alone as there was the sweetest nurse sitting with him to make sure he didn't try to get out of bed. Our time together that hour and a half before surgery turned out to be the sweetest time and the last best memory I have of my grandpa. I'm so glad we had that time together. It was the first time that entire week when he was most like the grandpa I've always known. I could understand the majority of what he was saying to me. We talked about everything I could think of to talk about. I would tell stories from the past. Basically giving the nurse an idea of who this man in front of her is and was. He would nod and smile. (I loved that sweet smile and how he would give that slight shoulder shrug at the same time.) I would hold his hand and rub his forehead. He constantly thanked me for being there with him and would say how much he appreciated it.
Before the nurse rolled him away to surgery I told him he was very special and that he was a good grandpa and that I loved him. He looked up at my eyes and said "I..Love..You..Too". I was saying my goodbyes because I seriously thought that was the last time I would see him. It wasn't, not yet.
I was able to spend one more day with him after surgery. He amazed me. He was moving and scooting his way to get out of bed and sitting in a chair the day after surgery. A ninety year old! I don't think they could have got me to move that much! Ha! Anyway the day had its ups and downs. I kept pushing back the my time to leave because I just didn't want to have to leave him. Every time I would mention needing to leave to go pick up my kids so we could head home he would get worked up. He would say "You can't leave me. If you leave me, who will be here with me?" Oh, that was so hard to hear. So with tears in my eyes I would stay a little longer. (He did this the night before too when I was trying to leave to go get some sleep.) The doctor had said with the stage of his dementia he was on the level of a three or four year old. I kept thinking of Kyle and Lacey and how there is no way I would even think of leaving them alone.
Later, I knew I really needed to go even though I didn't want to go. I had two sweet little kids that hadn't seen me in several days that needed their mommy. So I told grandpa that I needed to go get something to eat which was true because I hadn't eaten lunch. He was ok with that although he did ask me "your coming back, right"? I didn't answer but just told him I loved him and would see him later. I walked out of that hospital room and totally broke down because I knew it would be the last time I saw him. So thankful I do have the comfort of knowing that he is a believer in Jesus Christ so I will see him again some day!
To many he was known as Pop, Espen, a friend, a father, a husband, a businessman, a "politician" (he was a very social person and was always shaking hands wherever he went) and definitely Colonel. He was the most brave, wise, kind, sweet hearted, polite, loyal and very intelligent man I ever met. I am so very proud to have known him as... my grandpa.
This is some of what was written in his obituary. He was very proud of his accomplishments as he deserved to be proud. He proudly served his country. This was a HUGE part of his life.
He couldn't wait for a chance to get to wear his uniform. Many days over the past few months he didn't need a reason. I'm told he just wore it anyway! But seriously, he wore his uniform in the heat of the 4th of July parade in the back of a convertible car. Every year for several years up until recently, he presented the Retired Officers Association awards at three local high schools.
Some funny memories I have of my grandpa that I don't want to forget.
When I would spend the night with my grandma and grandpa, I would sleep in their room with my grandma. Grandpa would sleep in one of the spare rooms. I can still see it plain as day watching him walk down the hall to bed with his back to us wearing his boxers and those black dress socks pulled up to near his knees! Ha! Grandma and I were sitting in bed giggling about it. I can still hear us laughing!
My grandpa would go to coffee every morning as far back as I can remember. He would meet up with many of the businessmen, young and old, to talk about the latest news over a couple of cups of coffee and breakfast. I remember going with him when I was younger and then even when I was older he would call and invite me to go with him. Of course me being almost 20 and basically rolling out of bed on a Saturday morning I wasn't really thinking of actually getting myself presentable to go eat breakfast with a bunch of old men! This one morning he came and picked me up and I remember that he kept looking over at me in the car. He finally asked me if I was going to put on some lipstick. Ha! I told him I didn't have any with me and he asked if I wanted to stop off at the house to put some on! Funny! One thing about him was that he was always dressed up even just to be around the house. He always wore dress slacks and shirt and dress shoes. It wasn't until the past several years that he started wearing jeans sometimes. I remember how strange it was to see him in jeans.
I guess it was not too long after Doug and I started dating that grandpa and his lady friend (I don't know what to call her. She was a great companion that really took care of him for several years after my grandma died) invited us over for a little party. She hosted it at his house. They had moved the furniture aside in the den and fixed little appetizers. You would have thought more people were coming but it was just the four of us. They played their old record albums and we danced the waltz. Yes, it was a bit hokey but at the same time what great initiative and effort on their part! And I have a special memory of dancing with my grandpa!
The first Saturday in June was on my calendar every year as that was my grandpa's annual high school reunion. He was the class of 1937! My grandma died my senior year in high school so every year after that I was my grandpa' s date! Later on Doug even joined me and when Doug and I moved away we always made a point to make it back for that weekend up until Kyle was born. I always looked forward to it and enjoyed looking back at their pictures and listening to their stories.
About eight years ago I gave grandpa a blank journal with several questions to write about in it. I asked that for Christmas the next year he give me that book back but filled with his answers to my questions, his thoughts, stories of his time in the war and any memories he could think of. He did just that! It reads like a novel. He was so very sharp and so detailed in his writing. He even went so far as to number the pages and draw diagrams of things he talked about. He also included various newspaper clippings that were about himself. It means so much to me that it is in his own handwriting and I know he put great thought into every word. That journal was and is the best gift he could have given me and I will always cherish it greatly.
My grandpa had dementia and it became extremely severe over the past few years. Heartbreaking. In February we traveled to see him for what was suppose to be his 90th Birthday Party but in the days prior to his party he fell and cracked the pivoting ball in his hip. We spent that weekend at the hospital for his surgery. In March, we found out his surgery basically didn't work and he would require a second surgery. Again because of his dementia and his last experience in the hospital, he would need someone by side at all times if possible because he would forget where he was and why he was there and would try and get up. I made arrangements for my kids to be taken care of and headed that way. I basically camped out at the hospital for 4 days. I seriously didn't think he was strong enough to make it through yet another surgery. He did! He absolutely amazed me at his strength and pain tolerance.
He couldn't always remember my name but he knew who I was and that I belonged to him. During one of the days in the hospital he had a ton of visitors (church members and hospital staff). At one time there were several in the room at the same time. All of us standing around and near his bed. He was sitting up looking around at each of us shaking hands and carrying on a conversation the best he could and I know he was trying to figure out who everyone was. One lady asked him if the nurse standing next to his bed was family. He looked at the person she was referring and said "NO". He looked over and pointed to me and said very matter of fact "that one is mine, she belongs to me"!
I don't understand dementia and how it affects the mind differently at different moments in regard to speech. Most of the time grandpa would be intently telling me something (making a comment, telling a story, asking a question). I know he knew what he was saying but all I could hear was a mumble. I was so frustrated because I wanted so desperately to understand him and would listen for even one word I could understand so I could converse back. Again...heartbreaking. I know that if he was talking it was something good. At other moments I could understand him and oh how I held on to those words. Then there were the times when he would go on a journey back in time and it was strange because during those moments he spoke very clearly. I would join him in his journey and it was fine.
The morning of his surgery I was somewhat surprised to find him alone in the preop room. Not totally alone as there was the sweetest nurse sitting with him to make sure he didn't try to get out of bed. Our time together that hour and a half before surgery turned out to be the sweetest time and the last best memory I have of my grandpa. I'm so glad we had that time together. It was the first time that entire week when he was most like the grandpa I've always known. I could understand the majority of what he was saying to me. We talked about everything I could think of to talk about. I would tell stories from the past. Basically giving the nurse an idea of who this man in front of her is and was. He would nod and smile. (I loved that sweet smile and how he would give that slight shoulder shrug at the same time.) I would hold his hand and rub his forehead. He constantly thanked me for being there with him and would say how much he appreciated it.
Before the nurse rolled him away to surgery I told him he was very special and that he was a good grandpa and that I loved him. He looked up at my eyes and said "I..Love..You..Too". I was saying my goodbyes because I seriously thought that was the last time I would see him. It wasn't, not yet.
I was able to spend one more day with him after surgery. He amazed me. He was moving and scooting his way to get out of bed and sitting in a chair the day after surgery. A ninety year old! I don't think they could have got me to move that much! Ha! Anyway the day had its ups and downs. I kept pushing back the my time to leave because I just didn't want to have to leave him. Every time I would mention needing to leave to go pick up my kids so we could head home he would get worked up. He would say "You can't leave me. If you leave me, who will be here with me?" Oh, that was so hard to hear. So with tears in my eyes I would stay a little longer. (He did this the night before too when I was trying to leave to go get some sleep.) The doctor had said with the stage of his dementia he was on the level of a three or four year old. I kept thinking of Kyle and Lacey and how there is no way I would even think of leaving them alone.
Later, I knew I really needed to go even though I didn't want to go. I had two sweet little kids that hadn't seen me in several days that needed their mommy. So I told grandpa that I needed to go get something to eat which was true because I hadn't eaten lunch. He was ok with that although he did ask me "your coming back, right"? I didn't answer but just told him I loved him and would see him later. I walked out of that hospital room and totally broke down because I knew it would be the last time I saw him. So thankful I do have the comfort of knowing that he is a believer in Jesus Christ so I will see him again some day!
To many he was known as Pop, Espen, a friend, a father, a husband, a businessman, a "politician" (he was a very social person and was always shaking hands wherever he went) and definitely Colonel. He was the most brave, wise, kind, sweet hearted, polite, loyal and very intelligent man I ever met. I am so very proud to have known him as... my grandpa.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
Easter Egg Hunt
We went to our church playgroup Easter egg hunt. This is me trying to get a decent picture of the two of them together with their baskets.
Pose #1
Pose #2
Pose # 3 This will have to do!Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Popcorn Nights
We used to get away with eating popcorn after the kids went to bed. Since Kyle now knows what it tastes like he KNOWS what we are eating without him! He will call out from his room, "mommy, whats that smell? I think it maybe smells like popcorn. Are you making popcorn?" (We like to eat it with Parmesan aka sprinkle cheese on top.) Then a few seconds later some sweet little boy will peek around the corner and quietly walk over to me. Forget that teeth have already been brushed. There is NO way this mommy can resist those sweet dimpled smiling cheeks and some very special mommy and Kyle time! These are some sweet times and Kyle thinks it is the BEST!
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