Grandparents Day 2018!

          Grandparents Day 2018

April 10, 2018 – Oakwood Elementary School, Severn, Maryland

My three kids all grew up with solid grandparents in their lives seen on a constant basis and for many years they had great-grandparents in their lives that made a lasting impression and memory on their lives that I will for always be grateful for.

My grand kids have never lived around any of their grandparents, until this past summer when my Son moved his family out to Maryland about 2 hours away from me.  We’ve always been coasts apart and I usually only got out to see them about once a year, not near enough time to develop lasting memories or relationships for sure.

But, since they’ve been out here I’ve been out there a few times and they came out at Christmas.  Due to some serious health issues, my visits have been less and less, but Grandparents Day at Emma’s School came up and NOTHING was going to stop me from going.  I didn’t care what I had to do or how I felt, I was going to be at that school!

I don’t remember when my kids were in school if they ever had Grandparents Day at school, but this morning when the principal talked to us “Grandparents” he said it was the first time in 3 years since they’ve done it and they were very thrilled to have us there.

The school did a remarkable job at providing a rewarding experience for the Grandparents and all the children.  They made sure all the students in the classroom experienced having a “Grandparent” even if they didn’t have one there.  In Emma’s class there were only 4 of us and I really didn’t count how many students there were in her class, but there had to have at least been 20.

 

Before we were sent to our grandchild’s classroom we had a reception in the cafeteria and they pulled out all the stops.  Very organized, friendly and quite a spread on top of all of that.  Coffee, tea, fruit juice, fresh fruit and any type of pastry you could ever want.  I was very impressed.  The principal talked with us briefly on some of the “rules” and what would be taking place during the morning.  It went from 8:30am to 11:00am.So, off we went at 8:30 and I was sent out on my own down a hall to find Emma’s classroom, feeling my heart beating faster and faster as I knew I was getting closer.  I peaked inside the door and the teacher asked which student I was looking for and before I could even say her name I hear this loud shriek “Grandma!!!!”  There was my Emma with both her hands raised above her head and literally ran from clear across the room into my arms.  I gave her a huge hug and off she went to do what the teacher had previously told her what to do…lol

She was very obedient, listened to her teacher, always raised her hand, was polite and helpful to other students.  The first thing we did was talk about “peace” and what “peace” means.  Some of what the students said were typical responses, but one boy asked his teacher if it had to be a person and the teacher had a silly look on her face and I’m thinking to myself, sure can be!

So, he proceeded to talk about how his dogs were peaceful to each other.  So sweet!  My answer was countries could be peaceful to each other, but she didn’t ask us “Grandparents” …lol

Then we had morning announcements via a video feed with two students.  One obviously was the dominant one and the other one clearly didn’t want to be there as she threw papers off the table.  I tried not to laugh, but I think she was nervous more than anything.  Finally, the principal stepped in and gave the announcements after the girls gave the Pledge of Allegiance.  I was happy to see they still do that in schools and it was fun to stand and do that in a classroom again.

So, after all that, the teacher was taking full advantage of having more “mature” students in her classroom that day and we talked about artifacts.  She came up with 5 pictures of much older items and the students were to come up with questions that might help them understand what that item would be.  So, Emma and I went through all 5 stations and she came up with most of the questions (we weren’t supposed to tell them what they were, which was good because a few I had no clue myself), but we could help them come up with some questions.  

After everyone did the 5 stations we re-grouped and talked about what some of our questions were for each item.  Then the teacher revealed what the item was.  

A Camera

A Gas Lantern – I could not even find a picture for this it was so ancient

A washing Machine

A Radiator Heater

A phone Booth

After that activity was over I took Emma and we went and had our pictures taken together and went to the Book Fair.  Now, I remember Book Fairs very well.  Brian and Mallory weren’t so keen on them, but Meagan…. she wanted every book they had on the list.  Sweet Emma had her list too and she was quite proud of it.  

We had pictures first.  I was so appreciative and thought it was so nice of the school to bring in Lifetouch to take pictures of the Grand kids with their Grandparents.  Such a wonderful treat!  I HATE having my picture taken and I had my hair cut to get bangs and the ditsy lady cut them way to short, so I was not pleased, but Emma is adorable!  So, pictures were fun, even though I hated my own picture.

Next, off to the book fair!  Cameron had sent Emma with money ahead of time and gave me a head up and once I saw Emma’s list I knew there were going to be some items “cut out”.  I told her we needed to get something for Tristan and she said Mommy said the same thing, so we got his first.  She thought he would like a dinosaur book, so we got that.  It was kind of cool.  Then on to her list. 

This girl LOVES to read and I’m so happy to see it!  She did get a few non-reading items, but mostly great stuff and she loves her animals!  When we got to the check-out and the lady told us how much I turned to Emma and I said “Honey, we have to take some things back, it’s too much”  She was happy to weed out what she didn’t want and the ladies behind the counter were actually really helpful because they saw most of her reading level and one book she had picked out had only 3-4 words on a page and they showed that to her and she said “No, I don’t want that one”.  Phew, another one down!  I didn’t want to get into trouble with Mom and Dad.

She was overly happy with her book purchases and I was concerned she was going to get them all home ok.  They were heavy!  She assured me she would be ok. So, back to the classroom and picked up where they were doing a game with telling time with a clock and not a digital clock.  Emma told me she couldn’t tell time, so I did the first one and made her do the rest and I told her “She, you do to know how to tell time!”  “You did an excellent job!”  

After that we did my favorite part, well, it all was, but this was fun too.  The teacher took advantage of us “mature” adults yet again and had a list of questions for the kids to “interview” us.  So, we split the class up between us 4 grandmas’ and each one took turns asking questions from the list the teacher already made up. Stuff like, how many siblings did I have, what was my favorite subject in school.  I said spelling, Emma proudly said “Reading” …Really???? I hadn’t guessed…lol.  I’m so glad she loves to read.  She sure takes after her Aunt Meagan in that respect. Then other questions like how we spent the holidays, what games did I play when I was there age, did I play sports, and several others.  It was fun to be interviewed by 2^nd graders, I must admit!

Now, I would like to say a few things after the students in Emma’s class and I’m sure it’s like this is most classroom across the country.  First, ALL teachers and school administrators deserve so much more than what they receive, not just monetarily, but with respect!  I don’t know how old this school was, but they were doing a fund drive for new folding chairs because the folding chairs they had were the original ones to the building, folding wooden ones and several students had gotten splinters from them. 

I only, of course, witnessed Emma’s Class and her teacher had the patience of a saint.  There were some “challenging” students and I remember some of those students in my classes in elementary school too.  I still even remember their names! One young boy took an extreme interest in my name badge and quizzed me to the ninth degree on what it said, why it said it and why my picture wasn’t on it.  I, of course, was kind and patient with him and answered him sweetly and made sure he got all his answers.  As I was leaving the classroom to go home, he ran to me and gave me a hug.  

One girl, who Emma was so helpful with spoke NO English and she was in our “Interview” activity. When it was the girls turn to ask me a questions Emma would very nicely tell her to point and showed her on the paper how to point to a question.  So, she did, and I answered the question.  Emma then wrote the answer and showed her how to write the answer.  She did that with her during the entire activity.  I was so impressed with my little granddaughter for being so helpful and kind. I did find it distressful how this 2^nd grader who spoke no English was ever going to learn English by this method, not taking anything away from Emma being such a great helpful mind you, just maybe someone falling through a stressed education system unable to cope with “all” scenarios.

Then there was another frail girl in our “interview” activity that had ratty clothes, cuts and bruises on her face and neck and made my heart ache.  She was inquisitive and asked me questions not even on the list.  She was bright and outspoken, but not rudely outspoken, just not afraid to speak up.  She impressed me as well.

Then, of course, in all class in all the ages you have those that don’t listen, the teacher used the counting technique many times in the short time I was in her classroom.  One child demanded more attention than others, he happened to be my “name badge reader”.  She also answered each child with the same tone, mild authority and proven patience, meaning the child had to earn her patience. She would always give a warning and then start counting.  She never had to get to 5.

So, for me…. Grandparents Day if I lived across the country again…I would fly just to be there, it was that powerful!  Not just for me, but for Emma, the other students in the classes and the faculty.  

As my kids went through school, especially elementary school their Dad and I were always active in their school, volunteering.  I was always in the PTA in one school and very active in volunteering weekly and their Dad volunteered in another school constantly.  It’s so important!  It’s so valuable and the students and faculty need our help, especially now more than ever with school safety at such scary risk factor. 

As my last few words, if you are invited to attend your grandchild’s Grandparents Day, GO! GO!, GO!  It will mean so much to SO many people and impact there live(s) for many years if not generations to come!

Today I am a Grandma of 4, but today I was JUST EMMA’S GRANDMA and it felt damn good!

Hello and Goodbye

Hello and Good-Bye

Have you ever had to say Hello and Good-Bye in the same sentence?  I have, very unexpectedly.  As some of my oldest and dearest friends know I was adopted at birth and my birth mother was my salvation, my hero and was on a pedestal so high no one could reach her.  She saved me from hours of abuse and got me through years of torment and pain.

I never wanted to know my birth father.  I had a good adopted father. A good decent man who loved me, treated me well, but left me at the age of 9 and walked away and I barely saw him after that.  He got himself a new family and felt at times he forgot about me.  

It was about the age of 10 that I really started yearning for my birth family.  Claiming they were mine and not the horrible mother I had.  I knew in my heart and soul I would one day I would find them, and all would be well at last. 

This was an interesting time frame because it was at this age that unbeknownst to me my birth father ended his life and probably why I never had a desire to search for him or know him. 

My abuse started when I was 9 and went until I was 13 and I truly believe it was by his grace that kept me through all those hours of abuse and suffering.  My guardian angel, my mercy, my hope, my inspiration, my greatest love of all.  Even though I never knew it.

I knew the story of my parents, at least what I was told, which turned out to not be totally true, but at least the ages were the same as I was told.  So, I set out to follow in my parent’s footsteps, on purpose.  I happened to be a year late.  My mother had me when she was 16 and I had my first child when I was 17.  Adoption, abortion was totally out of the question and no one even brought up the subject because they knew my position as I had talked about it for years and years.

An adopted person has one great desire and that’s for them to have something that is there’s.  Completely there’s.  A bloodline, a child.  Something no one could ever take away and would always love me and I would always love it and we would never be apart.  It was my solemn vow.

When I finally searched for my birth family and found them in 1997 my birth mother asked me about my birth father and I told her that I really had no desire to know him.  She talked me into at least finding out about him.  So, I agreed.  She said that she would investigate it and that was the end of that.  I didn’t think any more of it.

Then it wasn’t long before she called me with the news that would rock my world and turn it upside down.  She had located my father’s brother, Uncle Arthur and had a beautiful visit with him.  Laughing, crying and reminiscing over my father for hours.  

When she called me, she couldn’t find the words to tell me and finally told me he had passed away.  He was at the age of Vietnam, so I asked her if he died during the war and she said no, paused for what seemed like a lifetime and said slowly, tears flowing slowly…he took his life.

Hello and Good-bye!  I felt my breath caught.  I felt numb.  I felt sick inside.  I felt tears flow I never knew existed for my father.  The pain in her heart and voice was beyond description.  I’ve never heard such pain in a person’s voice in my life.  Our conversation ended quickly after that.  Her pain deeper than my own. 

It wasn’t until 3 years later that she finally told me the story of her and my father.  The greatest love of her life and will always will be.  No one on the planet will ever compare to the love she has or shared with my daddy.  She taught me this love, she taught me this sacrifice, she taught me his honor, his strength, his determination and his pain. His intense, indescribable pain. 

When my father and mother found out they were expecting me it was in 1964, a time when adoption was the only solution for unwed teenagers and it wasn’t an option.  These two loved each other more than anything on this earth and my father was convinced he was going to protect both me and my mother.  So, he devised a plan and told my mom to prepare somethings and be ready at any time and he would come for her.

It was several days later he came for her, stole a car and off they drove to Idaho to get married where they could get married at the age of 14.  They had car trouble along the way and some nice people helped them one night and got them back on there way.  They reached Idaho and went to get married and discovered they needed a permission slip from there parents to get married.  My father was upset because he would have forged one, so off they set to San Diego. 

A road trip set for a movie script full of stolen cars, robberies, sleeping in cars and finally making it to San Diego a day before my father’s cousin ship came into port where he would help them get married.  So, my father took me and my mother to Disneyland.  My first trip!  What a special day that was.  I can only imagine!

They met up with my father’s cousin and he was having a party and invited my mother and father and they agreed to go and my father was always very smart on where he parked, but this night he parked the car on a one-way street the wrong way and the police were called and realized the car was stolen.  They were taken in. 

They were in state’s custody for several months until it was discovered my mother was pregnant and the FBI was involved because they crossed several state lines and they really didn’t know what to do with these two teenagers.  So, off they went back to Washington.  Mom went to go back to her Father and my Father went to live with an Aunt in Idaho.

They never saw each other again after that airplane flight.  Never!

My mother spent the rest of her pregnancy making me baby clothes, knitting and sewing and told and believed she was going to be able to keep me.  Little did she know that was all a farce.  I don’t know what my father was told.  

The day she went into labor she was dropped off at the hospital entrance and her mother drove away.  Alone, scared and hopeful.  Hopeful she will finally see my father finally again.

I was born, whisked away and she was never knowing what she had.  She never knew until I found her 27 years later.  Can you imagine?  It’s unfathomable to me.  It had all been arranged behind her back for the adoption and she signed the papers, released from the hospital, married off and on her way to Kentucky with a new husband, all days from giving birth to me.  Hello and Goodbye, Mommy!

Me, I left the hospital 5 days after birth with my new family.  My fate set.  Now, my father was finally allowed to come back to Washington because I was gone and my mother off to Kentucky, so he couldn’t find either one of us and his mother told him I had died at birth.  I can’t imagine a mother doing that to one of her children.  I simply can’t comprehend if you love your child how you can tell such a lie and see the devastation in their soul.

The news did just that.  Destroyed his soul.  He quickly married and had 3 children one right after another.  This is very common with birth parents, they have replacement children to fill that gap, but it never does.  My father became a raging alcoholic, had a divorce and had a poor relationship with his 3 children.  My 3 siblings knew there was a baby, but that the baby had died, so I was mentioned but I don’t know how often or for how long.

One of my brothers won’t acknowledge me and the middle brother and I have spoken many years ago, but we have lost touch.  I have never talked with my sister.  I have had much contact with my father’s brothers and family and I have many treasured items that were my fathers that are among some of my priced possessions.  

In the story of my father protecting his little family and running away to save us and keep us together I grew to know of his unbinding love, his eternal commitment, his promise to always be there for us no matter what. 

My daddy sang to me a special song, played the guitar to me while in uterine and they named me, Elisabeth Ann, called me Beth.  My dad was a rebel, a smoker and clever.  He loved his alcohol as well.

However, once I learned in that phone called…. Hello and Good-bye…. I gained a father I never had before in my life.  A man who is still my protector, my confident, my guardian, my shoulder to cry on and the only picture on my nightstand.  The only picture that travels with me everywhere I go.  He’s on my key chain and he’s always in my heart.  I usually don’t talk about him until July and December, but for some reason I felt it necessary to write this now.  He is the greatest love in my life.

Is it weird to say that my very best friend in my life is someone I’ve never met?  I can say that about my Daddy.  He is my best friend, my truest friend, my confident, my protector, my salvation, my rock, me should to cry on when in need and I always know he is there whenever I’m in need.

To some, mostly everyone that sounds odd or even unreal and that’s ok and I frankly don’t care.  But, all that matters are how he makes me feel.  How a man that never mattered to me all my growing up years became my hero on that fateful day in 1997.  The wounds are so raw for my mother that the tiniest bit of salt pierces her very existence.  No amount of pain she ever experiences in life even compares to her pain over losing my father. 

I know this for a fact, I’ve seen it, I’ve lived it with her and I’ve felt it in her tears and her face.  She has such deep pain over that period of her life.  The adoption, the loss of me, the loss of my father.  She lived it every August, every holiday and I’m sure a lot of other days too.

I don’t know if my father was ever told I was alive, I’d like to think his mother grew a conscience and told him, but my gut tells me she was a cold and heartless woman and I have no love loss for her or my grandfather.  I know my uncles often wondered about that “lost” child, maybe seeing the pain and the destruction in my father made them think that. 

How can a mother watch her own son self-destruct before her eyes and be OK with that?  I can’t imagine it.  I truly can’t.

So, hello and goodbye Daddy.  Hello to a life we had together for a short time in history, but shaped so many lives in the process.  Good-bye to a life of pain and misery and now filled with peace in your heart and safety in your soul.

I pray you are happy, at peace, at home, comforted and rest.  I see you as often as I can, but you are always in my heart, mind and soul.  You already know this though.

Thank you for being my Daddy, my protector, my defender and my comforter.  Thank you for the gift of music in my soul, I treasure it immensely.  Thank you for the love I feel every day, every minute, every second.  

  

Hello and Goodbye…but not goodbye as you are in my life each day for now and for always.  I love you now and for always.

Beth