Searching for Roots

Waxing poetic today, me thinks.

My grandmother has passed away. I knew it was going to happen sooner, rather than later based on what I saw when I went down for her 97th birthday in February. I knew then that it would be the last time I'd see her.

It's been an amazing five years. I could go down the "I feel cheated" road, but as I stand back and look at things, I know for certain that everything happened exactly as it should have. I'd never trade one life (the one I would have had if I'd grown up knowing my biological father) for the other (the one I had growing up with my dad.) I'm sad I missed out on all of the years knowing my grandmother, but I choose not to focus on that.

Instead, I choose to focus on the miracle that she was still alive and well at 92 years of age, allowing me to get to know her and love her as my grandmother.

I'm still meeting people from my father's family as recently as a month or so ago, and my relationship with my half-sister is growing. We don't talk often, but when we do we never run out of things to talk about. I guess that's what happens when you have 40 some-odd years to catch up on.

I've saved every letter my grandmother has written to me and there is no doubt in my mind that she left this world knowing that I loved her and was grateful that we found each other. I know she loved me too, because she never missed an opportunity to tell me that. How awesome is that?

My belief system tells me that she's together with her husband, my father and my aunt (who died a couple of years ago) and that they're having a wonderful visit. I don't judge those who don't have a belief system in an afterlife, but I'd be kicking and screaming on my death bed if I thought that's all there was. I could be wrong, but I sure hope not.

I fly in to California next week to stay with someone I've never met in person, but I sure like her! She was married to my father's brother long ago and is the mother of a cousin that I plan to get to know a whole lot better. I had to laugh as we were making plans for her to pick me up from the airport. She wrote, "don't get in the car with strangers!" We've never seen each other in real life, met each other via FB just a couple of months ago, and all I know is that she'll be driving a black Altima.

....I like to live on the edge.

I'm still processing all of this and can't really put my finger on how I'm feeling. I'm sure after the funeral I'll be more in touch with my feelings. Right now I feel removed from my emotions. Not necessarily a good thing, but something I've perfected over the years.

Rest in peace, sweet Munner. My life is better for having known you.

This post is private because I'm writing some very personal things here and don't want people to be hurt by what they might read. Chances are that they don't read my blog, but....

Saturday I'll be flying out for the day to visit my grandmother for her 96th birthday and will finally meet my half-sister (my biological father's daughter.) We've talked on the phone a few times and she seems like a really nice person, so I know that this will not be an uncomfortable meeting. I'm looking forward to it, actually, because she's so fun to talk to. I dare say that she's even friendlier than I am. Is it possible?

Lots has happened with my grandmother since the last time I visited her. She is failing in both health and memory and is now living with one of my aunts. I'm prepared that this will be the last time I see her. She may not even know who I am, and I'm OK with that. After all, she only met me five years ago.

I suspect that after this meeting, I'll be inclined to keep in touch with my half-sister. I really hate that term, because I don't have ANY full-blooded siblings, and certainly don't refer to them as my half-brother, etc., yet I feel that calling her 'sister' would somehow dishonor the relationship I have with the siblings I grew up with.

I'll figure all of that out, I'm sure.

It's going to be a long and most likely emotional day for me. I fly out in the early morning, and fly back that night. I suspect that there will be lots of processing going on in my noggin, and for that I'm thankful for my trusty blog. In a few years, I'll look back on this part of my history and will have figured out everything by then. It'll be a nice reminder of my feelings and thoughts.

What a ride it's been, eh? It all started on Feb 23, 2005, when I both found my father and found out he was dead on the very same day. I didn't stop searching there, and am thankful for my tenacious nature. That lead to finding my grandmother, still alive at the age of 92, excited about meeting me.

When I think back over the last five years, I can hardly believe the roller-coaster of 'stuff' I've experienced. If I were to just tell my story to someone, I'm pretty sure they'd think I was embellishing because seriously? Just wow. No regrets and lots of wonder and opportunities for growth.

I suspect that 2010 is going to be a year of growth for me, which means there are both difficult and wonderful things in store. I have a feeling that this visit will go down in the 'wonderful' column.

Here's a hint:


Yup, that's my beautiful grandmother. Isn't she lovely? She's so graceful and elegant and teeny tiny. I feel like a big ol' buffalo compared to her- but that's not really important, now, is it? The important thing is that I found her two years ago and now I have a grandmother to call my own.

I was really sad that it was such a short visit, but we had work to attend to and the flight options weren't very good. We left at 9:30 pm Friday night and got on a plane at 5:30 a.m. this morning, so there was just one day to spend together.

Before we got there, I had a bit of an issue. It's kind of hilarious, and definitely blog-worthy.

We stopped at Starbucks on our way to visit my grandmother. Not being familiar with this car since it was a rental, I didn't understand that perhaps I should be careful about the door potentially shutting itself on my hand. There I was with one hand holding my iced vente americano, the other on top of the door as I sat down. Then bang- the door shut on my hand and it was stuck.

Sure, I could have dropped the coffee to give myself a hand free to open the door myself, but:
A: What a mess that would have made in the rental car
B: What a waste of good coffee
C: I could have gotten coffee all over myself

I chose instead, to cry out to the bearded eye-roller, "My hand is stuck in the door and I can't open it." BER moved faster than I've seen him move in a long time and freed my hand from the door.

In case you're wondering, that didn't feel very good- but I could NOT stop laughing. It was pretty embarrassing to admit that I'd rather keep my hand in the door than drop the precious coffee.

The visit with my grandmother was lovely. My aunt and cousin were there when we showed up, but said that they wanted my grandmother to spend time alone with us- so suggested we take her for lunch while they visited my other aunt.

Before leaving for the restaurant, my grandmother said that we could either take her walker, or she'd need an arm to hold on to while she walked. BER said, "I think having you on my arm would be a lot more fun, don't you?"

I have to say, I loved BER very much already, but watching how gentle and sweet he was with my grandmother made me fall in love even more. I told my grandmother that BER was going to be in BIG trouble later for flirting with another woman (her) and then we both giggled.

We shared private and special stories for almost three hours in that restaurant, and then went back to her home where my aunt and cousin had WAY too many baked goods (they're EVIL) and wine, and then we visited some more. She gave me some mementos to take home with me, including a birdhouse she hand painted. I didn't notice until I came home to unpack it that she'd signed it with a special note to me on the bottom. ::sigh:: I'll treasure that.

It was very difficult to pull myself away, but I could see that everyone was getting tired after a 9 hour visit, so we left.

I have so much that I would like to write about, but it's too private. I know I share a lot here on my blog, but I never share someone else's stories. That's very important to me and I know that my friends will understand.

I called my grandmother when we got home to let her know that we're safe and sound. While talking, she told me that she's so happy that BER and I are together. She said that it's very obvious that we were meant for each other. I have to agree. I'd also like to say that my grandmother and I were meant for each other- even if it didn't happen until 45 years after I was born.

I'm lucky indeed.

I've booked the flight for the bearded eye-roller and I to go visit my grandmother next month. I wish the boys (::ahem:: the men that I birthed) could come with us, but it's a little pricey to do that every year- and this was rather last minute.

That's the yucky thing about such a long wait (umm, 45 years!) before finally meeting her- so much to catch up on and so little time. She's 94, for Pete's sake. Still kickin', though. I sure hope I inherited those genes.

I have her sweet picture up on my desk at work, along with pictures of the rest of my family. It's a nice to take a break, to look at this little corner of love and remind myself of how blessed I am. My boss came by the other day and asked me if she was my "Nana". It was awfully cool to say yes and then tell the story of how we met. Not many people have a story like that to tell, eh?

It's hard to believe that we only met for the first time two short years ago. I feel as if I've known her all my life now and our conversations always flow easily. We just talk about what's been going on since the last time we talked. I think we've pretty much caught up on each others' lives by now. The important stuff, anyway.

Boy does she have a few surprises coming her way. Lessee... I've gone from a size 14 to a size 8 since I've seen her and my hair is a WAY different color. Think she'll recognize me?