My Dog Bob

This is Bob Thomas. He was my dog.

He came into our home on August 25, 2002 and immediately my life became richer for it. We said farewell to him 14 1/2 years later on December 19, 2016, and until now I haven't been able to share my feelings. It seems that today I am ready. I feel so compelled to pay him a massive tribute as he truly was NOT just a dog, he was so, so much more.

As an adorable energetic puppy, Bob knew that going to the bathroom in the house was totally inappropriate. He did not chew or destroy one single thing. He slept in his kennel like a champ and he was neat and tidy with his eating habits. At the same time, I had a teenage son who was much harder to train in the same department.

Bob grew up to be an extremely handsome young man (dog) who constantly turned heads. At all times he was well groomed, he appreciated a good bath and a solid brushing. He was a genuine Canine Metrosexual. (Definition: a young, urban, heterosexual male with liberal political views, an interest in fashion and a refined sense of taste.) Unfortunately, as a result of his high standards and pristine physical appearance he soon became the subject of ridicule by the neighbourhood bullies who taunted him by saying he was not a "real dog" - just a "pretty" facsimile. Jealousy is such an unattractive trait. By this time he was sleeping on our bed.

Bob loved getting his photo taken. Unlike my three children, he never once objected. Not ever did he shriek at me to "put the F#%Kin' camera away."  He enjoyed the attention his photos received and because of his impeccable good looks, no time was ever wasted with Photoshop.

Bob enjoyed numerous road trips. He was the perfect companion in the car. Only once did he have a small indiscretion. Clearly he was mortified when he barfed in Antoinette's lap. It was one time in a small handful of tiny embarrassments. For the most part, he had perfect decorum.

In Bob's early years he enjoyed feasting on cat poop. Lucky for him, he had a good supply readily available. Sadly, his bounty was cut off when his cats moved to the United States and got their Permanent Resident Status. They never returned to Canada. He moved on to bear scat.

Bob was my "in-house" counsellor. He got me through many a bad day and a few fairly significant crises. He was understanding and an excellent listener. His fees were reasonable and he always had appointment times that worked for me.

In mid-life Bob suffered from "Small Dog Syndrome." Luckily for him, he never got his ass kicked but he came close a few times. Big and black was his nemesis.

If I left the house, he was waiting at the garage door when I returned. If I went downstairs to do laundry, he was right on my heels. He enjoyed watching me sit on the toilet and was always willing to lick my legs after a shower. He was my shadow, my confidente, my best furry friend.

In Bob's final two years his eyesight failed him and his hearing was almost gone. I would often find him staring into a corner and he no longer greeted me at the door. His appetite was going and he had suffered a small stroke. Through all of this however he remained steadfast in his love and devotion for his family. For me.

I am not even skimming the surface of the Bob stories and my tears are falling now. Recently when I was out of the country, I caught myself just in time before I texted my husband to ask "How's Bob today?" It was eight months since his passing. I can still smell him. I can feel him beside me in my favourite chair.  I mean really "feel" him. I sometimes hear his nails click on the hardwood floors and at times I still catch myself reaching for him in the night in our bed.

I thank my daughter Jennifer who found him as a puppy. I thank the people who loved him so deeply. I thank our exceptional veterinarian who ever so gently and compassionately guided Bob and I through the heart wrenching process of saying goodbye. I don't remember thanking you, but you and your amazing staff made the most painful experience one that was filled with kindness, patience and an overwhelming sense of peace.

Bob was the best dog in the world.  I will never forget him.

Thank you, Bob. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Three Times Blessed

One hour old

It's been just over a week since our family welcomed Paige Sierra Manky into the world, weighing in at 8 lbs 15 oz and 22 inches long, at 3:49 PM July 21, 2017. And what a week it's been. An emotional roller coaster with this tiny human in the front seat, taking us all on the ride of a lifetime.

I won't share the details of the birth other than Tara was simply a warrior and amazing in every way. Devin never left her side, always loving and caring.  I can share one experience from the day however, as it is mine alone. Grandparents tend to get a little punchy towards the end of a day of hard baby labour. We were four grandparents waiting anxiously together. The minutes seemed like hours. So when I nervously checked my texts from Devin who had been kind enough to keep us informed, I jumped up in the room and shouted "She's delivered!" only to realize in a nanosecond I was a total idiot. What had been "delivered" was the heart emoji I had sent earlier to Devin. Good to know that he got it.

I remember worrying 36 years ago if I could possibly love my new baby as much as my firstborn. At the split second of her birth I knew I had nothing to fear. The fierce protective love comes out of nowhere and you can't imagine life without her. The mother lion instinct kicks in and you are completely hooked. Having grandchildren is just the same. My sweet friend Debbie, is the grandma to 6 beautiful babies and she speaks of each and every one of them like they are her favourite. I get that. My Sam and Charlotte, and now my Paige, (yes, I said my...) are instrumental in my well-being. I have had many wonderful roles in my sixty + years but I like myself best when I am just Grandma.

Five days old

Tara, Devin and Paige live at the top of a mountain which requires a gondola for transportation. After many months, I eventually convinced them to agree to stay with us "in the city" for a wee bit before heading to their remote little cabin in the woods. I hoped to give Tara an opportunity to heal and gain her strength back while obviously providing me with the golden opportunity to micromanage everyone and everything. I promised I would give them total privacy. I couldn't do it. I said I wouldn't go downstairs unannounced. I tried. Some would say I lied. I was busted for listening at their bedroom window. I was merely ensuring that three people were sleeping soundly....well, and also breathing.

I know that this intimate time with this sweet little family will not go on much longer and I feel myself getting severely choked up when I think of the goodbyes. I am in love with Paige Sierra Manky. She now holds a special place in my heart that will always be reserved for just her. Thank you Tara and Devin for this beautiful addition to our family. She was so worth the wait.

One week old

To Tara With Love

So yes, July 14th was the day you had in your calendar, marking the expected arrival of your baby. Don't worry, most babies don't like to follow schedules! Your sweet little bundle will come soon enough and only when she is good and ready.

This has been a long wait for you and Devin. In the past you experienced some disappointments and I know it must have been difficult. Having this baby has been a labour of love that has spanned a number of years. But she is coming soon and I know you are now ready and so eager to finally meet your child.

When I look at you today, I see a strong, healthy, capable young woman. Someone who has had gained wisdom over the years and someone who understands the magnitude of this new chapter. I know you will embrace motherhood with every fibre of your being and your daughter will be so blessed by your loving care.

It is not always going to be easy. You will be tired in the early days. Exhausted really. But interspersed with this fatigue will be many more times when your heart will almost burst with overwhelming joy. It is these memories that will carry you through the odd rough patch. This precious human being will soon become your everything. She will rule your world and you will be happy to let her do so. Trust me on this. 

Her daddy will be amazing. He is going to be your rock. He is calm and solid. Depend on him as he has depended on you these past nine months. What a terrific team you make! Your families love you both immensely and we are excitedly anticipating the arrival of our newest family member. 

My vow to you as your mom is simple. I will do my very best as a Grandma to your daughter. I promise to keep my mouth shut most of the time but it will not be every time. I will love her deeply as I love you, my super smart, adorably cute, quietly caring middle child. 

Love,

Mom

"Sitting is the New Smoking"

After some careful consideration, I’ve decided that the basis of the great relationship I share with my grandchildren is primarily due to this: their youthful exuberance and  fully functioning cerebrums nicely compliment my advancing years and verified dementia. While their brains are growing and experiencing over one million neural connections every second, mine is, well...shrinking. Fortunately I read online..."A recent study shows that spending time with grandkids may actually prevent Alzheimer’s disease by increasing brain function and memory."  I will let you know. If I remember.

This week has been what I expected. Further confirmation that I know nothing and I need my grandchildren’s help more than ever to navigate through their busy lives as 9 and 5 year olds.

Things happened this week. Most were funny.  Some outrageously funny. But to be truthful, everyone did not have the best behavior all the time. Grandma included. We had a sprinkling of bad language and a few scraps over possessions. Bedtime rituals became marathons and table etiquette was often questionable. All normal stuff. 

Some of the more memorable moments include...

The night I arrived I was horrified to learn that I almost applied the dog’s eye cream to my grandson’s infected finger. Oh. Come. On. In my defense, it was erythromycin…  It reminded me of the time almost ten years ago when I washed my hair with the same dog’s hair shampoo. Who keeps their pet’s toiletries and medications with the humans? Clearly this family does.

Quote from Sam: “Grandma…do you know that Sitting is the New Smoking? Just google it, Grandma.” So I did. I was struck by the clever nature of this new saying only to learn that it has been around since 2013. Jeez.

Quote from Charlotte: “Grandma, you are getting just a little bit fat.” Note to self: try to remember that “Sitting is the New Smoking.” Had I known so much sitting was bad for my health I might have changed it up a bit. No. Probably not. I love sitting.

Wednesday night we attended the opening week of “Captain Underpants” at a cinema downtown. Charlotte dressed for the occasion, a pink polka dot twirly dress compete with fancy jewels and silver sparkly ballerina flats. You can imagine how mortified she was when we realized I had mistakenly brought my jean jacket for her to wear in the airconditioned theatre instead of her own.  As a sidebar to this story: Don’t rush out to see this movie unless you have a predilection for middle aged men in underpants.

I find it terribly embarrassing when I mix up the names of my loved ones. Especially when I get caught by my eldest daughter. I texted her in Vegas to ask her about the incessant loud breathing/snoring that was driving me out of my mind day and night.  Sadly, I named Charlotte as the culprit when in reality it was the damn dog (Stella) I was referring to.

We got into macramé. Sam was a super quick study and he produced a magnificent piece of art. In return, Sam taught me how to broil broccoli, cauliflower and red peppers to perfection, using his mom’s ultra expensive “Made in France” silicone baking mat.

The highlights? Hugs. Reading in bed. Calling each other names like Grandma Jiggle Bum, Charlotte Butt Cheeks and Sam Jelly Bean Bottom. Juvenile? Maybe. Hysterical? It goes without saying.  

On my final morning with the kids, Charlotte came into my bed for a last cuddle and she whispered softly in my ear…”Grandma, I love you taller than a skyscraper.”  My days with these two are golden. I try my best as a Grandma. It’s my favourite role to date. I take in every minute. I treasure each memory. I will love them forever.

Beautiful Tara captured by Devin

 

And here we go again...

 

Photo by Devin Manky

A decade ago I began blogging. At the same time I was expecting my first grandchild. Yes. I was expecting. Now Sam will be ten at the end of summer and Princess Charlotte turns six in a few weeks. And for sure, I know less now about being a grandparent than I did ten years ago when I thought I knew it all. But what I do know is this. Nothing is sweeter than the voice of your grandchild at the other end of the phone. Nothing feels better than their exuberant hugs when you pull into their driveway. And nothing makes me happier than spending time with them. Preferably alone, without their parents. Just kidding. Actually, not kidding.

And we are so thankful as a family to be growing again! I am expecting my third grandchild in July. My hat trick. Three times blessed. If I recall, Tara and Devin had something to do with it but I can't remember what it was.

The past ten years have been busy. Retirement. Moving. A new and exciting venture with a treasured friend. I read books. I ate too much. I pretended that I loved the gym. I traveled to some unforgettable destinations. I had a hip replacement. I took Spanish lessons. Sadly, I lost a few amazing humans. And I made some mighty fine new friendships.

But nothing compares to being a grandma. Nothing comes close. My car license plate holder says "My favorite people call me Grandma."  They make me feel so damn fabulous.

And now we begin again. Thank you for that.

Photo by Devin Manky

 

 



Grandma's Back Blogging Again





My dear writer friend Shelley has always encouraged me to record my life as a Grandma, in fact this blog is a result of her idea in 2007! I have no particular excuse for my one year absence or a good reason for my return today, but I can tell you that it feels really great!

Recently I began following a few new blogs that have inspired me. A lovely lady who lives in a mountain cottage in Australia and a wonderful young female poet/writer in New York City. Thank you Elspeth and Nikki.

This past year has been eventful. We moved last spring from the "family" home of 23 years to a 1920 British Arts & Crafts era beauty. Graham and I celebrated 38 years of marriage and our children are truly not children any longer, in fact they are all managing their lives quite well! We loved a trip to Rajasthan, India this past January that has left me yearning for more. I fell in love with the country all over again. I have gone back to work with the school district for six months and my commute is all of five minutes. My colleagues could not be more patient or kind with me as I try my best to fire up some rather dormant brain cells. I also jumped into a women's travel club venture with an amazing partner who challenges and encourages me every step of the way. We enjoyed two "sold out" trips in 2013: Guatemala and New York City. Peru is our destination this summer.

But this blog isn't about husbands or work or travel. It's about my grandchildren and my relationship with them. "My thoughts about being a Grandma" as the blog names states.

This past weekend we were together to celebrate Graham's 60th birthday. It was such a terrific time filled with some very funny and poignant moments. I don't get the chance to see Sam and Charlotte as much as I would like as they live a few hours away and they have busy, busy lives too. So when we do come together as a family it is always so special and memorable.

None of us know what is around the next corner. We hope and pray for each others good health and happiness but life can often surprise us when we least expect it. It is the tiniest of moments that need to be cherished and appreciated. They are the memories that will sustain us through the hard times.

Memories like this past weekend when we strolled through the tulip fields of the Skagit Valley. Or watching my two daughters spending much needed "girl time" together. Hearing Sam call out from his make-shift fort in his grandparent's bedroom..."Grandpa, I had no idea your 60th birthday would be so much fun!"  The memory of the birthday boy on the couch so Sam could have a sleepover with me in the bedroom with the fireplace. Traditions like "cocktails" with Sam and Charlotte that include a shaker, a muddler and a whole lot of love. And the breakfast fruit that went missing because a little girl transferred it into her Easter basket for safe keeping. Then there was the chat I had with Sam about how smart he was and he informed me that one girl in his kindergarten was a bit smarter because "She can do her name in cursive writing!" But my favorite memory from this past weekend has to be the conversation I had with Jen on the phone. She told me that Charlotte burst into tears when she woke from her nap in the car, as they drove into their driveway.

"No no no...not my house! I want Namma's house! Namma's house! Namma's house!"

I will treasure that one.

 

 

Babysitting in Bellevue

Well, we all survived. Yes, indeed. At least six months ago I made a promise to my daughter that after my work with Elections BC was over, I would babysit Sam and Charlotte so she could join Mike in Las Vegas where he was attending a jewelry exposition.

 

Three days. Two nights. No biggie.

 

Are you kidding me? I am exhausted. But let me tell you, it's an awesome exhaustion. Because as I sit here and look back through my photos of the weekend, I am able truthfully to say it was terrific. There were hardly any tears by any of us and I was able to keep up the pace remarkably well.

 

Highlights included beauty treatments for me compliments of my granddaughter and listening to my grandson read. He's just five and reading chapter books and only stumbles on words like "Pennsylvania". We did a fair bit of cooking in Charlotte's kitchen and Sam impressed me with his Lego creations and two-wheel bike riding.

 

The nights were great, both kids go to bed so easily. So did I.

 

But it was their loving nature towards me that really was so dear. And a welcome surprise from Charlotte who has warily watched me from afar for the past several months. It provided a lovely bonding experience for us both.

 

I adore them.

 

Easter Weekend at Birch Bay

Two Valentines

The name "Grandma" is a treat

And it comes with hidden treasure.

A love so pure and sweet

So much there is no measure.

A boy who's name is Sam. 

Pull his finger and he will fart.

As soft and gentle as a lamb

He holds a big piece of my heart.

Charlotte, our little dancing queen 

Is as pretty as her mother.

She will often steal the scene

As she's louder than all others.

Two precious sacred gifts from God.

I count my blessings every day. 

And to their parents, I do applaud

I love them more than words can say.

Happy Valentines Day Charlotte and Sam!

Bittersweet

Hi all.

This blog has been terribly neglected. And for no apparent reason. I was obsessed with it in 2007, the year Sam was born. I could be counted on to post almost daily and I prided myself with good humor and words that I hoped would be meaningful. I had a strong following and I enjoyed the experience of sharing my life.

So, why the hiatus? Distracted. Busy with work. Bored. Lost the groove maybe? The audience drifted as I faltered.

Regardless, here I am today with what I think is an important story.

On December 2, 2012 Graham and I became proud owners of a 1920 British Arts and Crafts Bungalow, built originally at the tail end of World War I for a Captain Doherty and his wife. It is now a designated heritage home by the City of North Vancouver and we couldn't be happier. This after almost a full year of searching for just the right house.

Of course this means that our "family home" of almost a quarter of a century needs to be sold eventually. And with that, comes some very bittersweet thoughts and a treasure trove of memories. Funny stories. Poignant moments in time. Fighting. Making up. Laughter and tears.

Jordan was just 3 when we moved to Glenhaven. I remember the day we came to see it and it was in January. It's necessary here to admit some dreadful parenting because we lost track of him. We found him in the center of the backyard pool, balancing precariously on a fitted cover that was similar to a hair net in the way it snapped around the edges. HE thought it was a trampoline. WE knew he may begin to sink at any moment.

It was around this very same pool later that year when he told his sister Jennifer to "F**k off." He had been warned so this was the final straw and I proceeded to wash that bad word out of his mouth with a good shot of soap from the pump. With this and with bubbles foaming at his mouth, he looked up at me and said, "And f**k you, too!" Consequently, he got a double dose and that ended that.

Three weeks in bed with a bad back. Crawling to the bathroom. Sometimes laughing so hard and then crying at the futility of it all.

Photo albums are filled with the memories of birthdays, and Christmases and parties, endless parties. Canada Day parties. Over the five years they swelled from 26 to 152 friends and neighbours. Summer dinner parties. Keith and all his brilliance. A Mariachi band. Belly dancer. Oktoberfest and Bhangra dancing.

Baby showers and Book Clubs. Celebrating graduations or a great mark on an exam. A promotion. Times when we gathered to honor someone special. Sometimes someone we had lost. The circle of life as we know it.

Renovations were done. A new pool installed. This as a result of the previous one, cracking one June evening and sending over 20,000 gallons of chlorinated water rushing between the two houses below us and depositing rocks, plants, small trees and other assorted landscape debris directly into the neighbours beautiful inground concrete swimming pool.

Boyfriends for my daughters came and went like the wind. One vivid memory is of Graham's complete despair when Tara dropped Riley like a hot potato for someone new. "But who's going to fix my computer now?" he asked. Jennifer hiding grapes in the shoes of another boyfriend of her sister's. I don't think she liked him.

Jen and her baking. Making a beautiful blueberry pie for Barbie. Her dad delivered to Babs instead. Pie #2 created and delivered to Barbie. Her black lab ate it off the butcher block when she stepped out of the room for a minute.

BETA. VHS. CD's. DVD's. PVR. Nintendo. Play Station. X-Box. One hundred and forty-three remote controls.

Water fights with the boys who lived next door. Spontaneous and hilarious to watch from the safety of inside.

Homemade bike jumps on the street where a multitude of young boys would congregate and attempt to out do each other. I clearly remember being coerced into laying down on the road while the boys catapulted themselves off a rickety wooden contraption, sailing over my tense body only to land just meters away. I must have been into the wine during that time period.

Jordan and Marshall lipsyncing and dance routines. How could I have managed to lose all that video footage??? Priceless.

Graham cannon balling into the pool after a long hot day at work.

Jen and her dedication and sense of responsiblity in raising and training our puppy, Bob. Ten years later he is still an important member of the family.

Tara's friends horsing around on the pool deck, trying to push each other in but instead, crashing through the neighbours' fence and subsequently falling off a concrete wall into their newly planted garden.

Sleepovers that were never anything close to a "sleep" over. Beer cans tossed in the garden. Evidence of night sojourns to the nearby park to meet with other quasi-deliquents. Vodka replaced with water. Are you kidding me, Jordan?

And I won't sugar coat this either. There were some major conflicts over time. Arguments. Over homework. Chores. Money. Appropriate clothing. Makeup. Movies. Helmet or no helmet. Loud music! Good friends and bad influences. Curfews. Parties. Raves. The sleepless nights, waiting and wondering and hoping and praying. Every single parent has these stories.

And we survived.

We survived to celebrate two beautiful weddings and welcoming two beloved son-in-laws. Two perfectly perfect grandbabies. Joyful, joyful times as a much larger family, we would gather in this home and although it was not always spoken, we knew how lucky we were to have this home, this life and each other. Perhaps if there aren't some struggles along the way one can't truly appreciate and recognize the good times. Thank you for the good and the bad.

There was one not so funny moment with Sam over Christmas. We took the family to see the new house and I had suggested to Sam that he could chose his own bedroom for when he came to stay. Having done that and after looking over the house as fast as any 5 year old boy would, he tugged on my sleeve and asked..."But Grandma, where's the pool?" His little eyes became a little teary when I told him there was no pool. I looked to Graham and Jen for support but they just let me sink on my own. I will remember that and when I take Sam to Disneyland next year, they won't be coming with us.

I will remember this home.

I will remember Jennifer and the first time she walked up the front steps with my grandson in her arms. A loving mother she is.

I will remember Tara standing in the living room in her wedding gown waiting for her dad to enter the room. A caring daughter she always has been.

I will remember my boy Jordan walking through the front door after his time away in Europe. He was suddenly a man. And such a good one.

I will remember sharing with Graham the grief and sadness of losing his parents and the immense joy, pride, gratitude and love that we share for our children. Always dependable. Honest. Kind.

So it's a very bittersweet time for me this month. In going through the closets, drawers, cupboards and shelves the memories flood back as we prepare for this emotional transition.

Thank you 4233 Glenhaven Crescent. You treated us well. I hope we were deserving of your grace and charm. You always welcomed us home.

Leslie

Merry Christmas Everyone!