Saturday, June 13, 2015

Welcome Grandchild Number 25!

We, meaning the dad, the mom (of course) and I arrived at the hospital Tuesday evening at the suggestion of the Doctor who said the mom was at 5 cm and should have the baby soon. She was 4 days over her due date.  At the hospital, they were busy, and a mother not having hard labor, (her contractions were spread apart) was not something they wanted to see, so they sent her to the waiting room to "wait and see".  The room was so full, I had to go to the entrance waiting room to wait for word as to whether they would admit her or not.  Sigh.
After an hour, my son-in-law came down and said there was room, would I come up and wait with them.  Sure.  Once there, it was about another 30 minutes before they asked them to come back to the Triage room, only room for the mom and dad.  That's fine.  
They waited until about 11 pm. She wasn't making progress so the nurses wanted to send her home.  A call to the doctor changed their mind. He said, keep her.  At about midnight, she was moved to a labor room, and I was allowed to come back to stay with them.  The dad snuggled down next to her on the bed and I sprawled out on the "couch".  The night was filled with nurse visitations, but no baby. 
The next morning the doctor was doing surgery during the day, so he asked them to watch her and he would be by after his surgeries.  We filled the day with checking on Facebook posts, planning, visiting, and the son-in-law had to attend a web meeting.  Later, we asked if the mom could go for a walk.  Funny girl had me look up exercises that would increase the chance of starting labor.  She was so funny taking large steps, squatting, then rubbing her tummy, followed by taking large steps and then making a lunge.  This was repeated until she says..." I need to rest." Laughing gives you exercise too.  A short rest, the doctor came by and gave her a choices, start a pitocin drip, break the bag of water, or go home.  He gave her a short time to think about it.  The nurses changed; we had dinner, and decision time was upon her.  After visiting with the nurse, she said, "break the water". The doctor, nurse, and the parents were expecting a long night.  I watched.  
Immediately her contractions began their intensity picking up. Their plan was to sing hymns and the dad to speak encouraging words in low tones to keep her calm.
The events during the labor are too long to blog. Once the membrane was broken, it was 1 hour and 50 minutes to the entrance of Matti, our little bundle of joy. She was born on a Thursday. June 10th at 9:50 pm, 7 lbs 6.7 oz, 19 1/2 inches. Her dad cut the cord, and mom immediately reached out to hold her, as the nurse was going to whisk her over to bathe her. 
  Life is good.  As my obstetrician said after my 6th child's birth... "God is good".  And so He is.

The next day, it was decided that the dad would take me home, so I could rest then we would take the four girls down to meet their sister.  (side note: the family lives a little over an hour from the hospital in a different town over a mountain.  I had flown out to California, the reason I did not have a car, and a family friend had my son-in-law's car and he had theirs).

That evening we took the girls down. 
They loved on their mother, 

greeted the new baby,

 and then we took mom and the baby home with us.  

Quite an experience, went with a milestone... number 25 grandchild.  Writing the memory before it fades for Matilda Crystel. 

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Kissing and Telling

Gosh I can't... well yes I can believe I am this far behind. Going back to December, I missed the December prompt of "Kissing Stories"by Blue Raspberry Sundays... I didn't remember mistletoe being particularly a part of Christmas, so I hesitated writing a post for that.  My number two daughter said, not so, she has pictures to prove it.   Well yes, when she put up mistletoe at her apartment, we smooched under that, but I will tell you my Hero did not like ODA, his acronym for Obvious Displays of Affection, out in public.  Funny guy, it set him up for so much teasing by me.  I was a terrible tease.  I only have one picture that shows me teasing him (a favorite of mine).

I would start to give him a peck on the cheek out in public and I would be admonished... "no ODA". Well, confession is good for the soul, so I will tell you, I would wait until we got out of site of people or in an elevator and give him a big kiss.  This was okay until he began worrying there were camera's in the elevators, then I would have to sneak a kiss. I guess I was a mess.
This is the only picture I have of a kiss between the two of us, and it was on the special day of my life when we two became one.  That time I was shaking so bad he had to hold my had to calm me down.

 Life with my Hero was never dull.  At least, that was what he said to me. 

Monday, December 22, 2014

Confessions of a Grieving Widow

I haven't written about the death of my sweet husband.  My heart has been heavy in that area since 9:00 am on December 23, 2008.
The 22nd had been a busy time. Children coming in and out of the house to visit with their dad because we all knew that time for him was getting shorter by the day.
I had cleansed his wounds, and tucked him in, then I had lain down on the sofa next to him to rest.  I apparently fell fast asleep, because I was awakened by my son and his wife as they prepared breakfast in the kitchen.  I sat up and immediately noticed that Ned wasn't breathing right.  I ran over to the side of the bed, and saw his oxygen had slipped off.  I quickly put it back on, but he wasn't responsive to my touch or to my calling his name.  I could tell he was in a Cheyne-Stokes breathing pattern.  I called to my children and then reached for my phone to call the Hospice team that he was dying.  While I was on the phone, he took his last breath with my son holding his hand and trying to coax him back to us.  I was not by his side.  These events have bothered me so much.  I fell asleep and didn't catch his oxygen mask had come off... I was calling the nurses and wasn't by his side when he passed to the other side.  From there, every thing then moved on without me.  I hope he knows that my heart was heavy and so sad, because I really didn't want him to go, and I was so sorry I was not holding his hand when he left this world.  I pray that he does know.  I look forward to seeing him again some day.  He is a special part of me and will be forever.
My forever sweetheart

Now I have let this piece of my guilt at having let him down out, I hope you all understand.   

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Christmas Past er Photos Blue Raspberry Sunday prompt

Aine urged us to go through our photos for the last 10 years and create a post using the photos for the past 10 years.
I am in a world of hurt.  When my children left home, I sent the bulk of pictures of them with them.  After that along came digital cameras (love them) BUT I had saved all my pictures, organized beautifully, on my external hard drive so I would not lose any... Guess what, computer is fine... external is in the shop, with prayers.
Since my picture capacity is low, I (this is with a wink) decided to have a historical reenactment of Christmas's past.  Last year (repeat "last year") I purchased some awesome Christmas fabric with the goal in mind to make pillow cases for all my grandchildren for the following Christmas. Do you think I actually followed through with that?  You are right... I did not.  So on Thursday (3 days ago) I got my fabric out, and began my marathon to finish my pillowcases in time to mail them with in 3 days. I have finish 5 of 25.  When my children were little it was always the last 3 days before Christmas and half the time I worked all night to finish what I was working on. The dad was always putting something together.
This is part of my project still in progress.
The boys' fabric for their pillow cut and ready to sew.


This is the finished project ready for California

There are five. There are 4 girls and one on the way.
I am thinking of telling the mom, I am going to join the red hat society and the one who chooses the Red one I will add with me. ;-)
The pillow cases folded out.
I have blogged about Christmas on both this blog and my genealogy blog.  Here are the links if you would like to see the pictures and read about the fun and memories with pictures.

The most memorable Christmas was when my daughter and son in law played Santa at a time her dad and I were in financial straights and were very depressed.
We went to bed having done the best we could and were very surprised when we woke up the next morning to a Santa visit that was not known.  They had snuck in the back door, we never locked it, and had put presents under the tree that delighted the younger siblings.  Years later my son in law played Santa again to our family.  He drove through snow storms, sleet, and winds to deliver my daughter and 7 wonderful grandchildren to a hard hit family on December 23rd 2008, just hours after her father died.  He had tried to wait for his present, the Lord was in a hurry for him.  

I miss my Santa baby... He was so much fun at Christmas.  Of course, when he made everyone wait to open presents until he had read the Christmas Story from St. Luke, he wasn't held in high regard by the little ones.  He loved everything about Christmas, it was his favorite time of the year. 

Sunday, December 7, 2014

God Given Talent

Aine at Blue Raspberry Sunday  gave the prompt writing about a talent that you or an ancestor had. 
Since I am trying to write my stories for my family about me, it will be a talent I have. 
A talent I have been blessed with would be called God given.  I did nothing to develop it, it is just me.
I was blessed with the talent of looking outward and caring for others.  Looking back one incident that stands out to me, probably not the first time I had done, but a memorable experience; was when my mother caught the hillside on fire.
We live halfway up a sizable hill, not a mountain, but definitely could wind you if you walked up it.  (Side note:  Rocky Mountain states say Oklahoma mountains are hills. J)  In the 1950s, people burned their trash in the country.  My dad, to be safe, had a 50 gallon barrel with a mesh wire top to keep the fire contained.  This day, my mom had lifted the lid to add some paper to what she was already burning and the wind caught something loose in the barrel and blew it out onto the dry grass.  She was horrified as the small spark on the grass exploded into a line of fire that quickly began to spread, she used the towel to try and smother the flames, but it was spreading too fast. We did not have a phone, but our neighbor about a mile or so down the hill did.  The only solution to her was to run down and call the fire department.  She told me to stay at the house and she would be right back.  Well, now you will see what my talent was not… obedience. Just after she was out of site, I saw the fire headed toward the barn… Our cows, chickens, and pig were in that barn, so without one single hesitation, I ran to the barn with my dog, and opened all the pens so the animals would get burned.  I was not scared for myself, although many years later, my mom told me her regret was she had not taken me with her because the fire was near our butane tank.  Of course she might not have gotten help in time had she not done what she had.
Me and my trusty dog in front of the house.

After letting the animals loose, I went to the end of the driveway, waited and cried.  A kind black man, never knew his name, pulled up and knelt down and comforted me saying my daddy would be there soon. He was right; my daddy did come soon, with a whole lot of other men with burlap feed bags, hoes, and shovels. 
 After they took off down the pasture to help the firemen to stop the flames.  I went into action.  I got my red wagon, and started the job of carrying water down to the men.  I always worried about my daddy since he had lost his leg, and I became his feet while he was healing.  Soon, the flames were stopped before any homes were burned, and all the men were okay in spite of the heat and hard work. I am sure I slept soundly that night tucked in by my thankful parents.

This trait of thinking of others first has always just been a part of me, so I guess it was meant for me to help those that I can.

Share or write your own talent story… Leave me a link about it. I would love to read your story. 

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Raspberry Sundays ~ Be the Bridge

When I first began my genealogy blog Branching Out Through The Years, my purpose was to preserve the memories of my husband known on the blog as "The Hero"for our grandchildren.  He really wanted to know them and wanted them to know him.  His choice was taken from him by cancer.
The Hero and I with oldest daughter's first son.

After that, I decided to write the stories of my associations with my relatives, aunts, uncles, grandparents for my children and grandchildren because for the most part they never met or really knew any of them.  This grew to posts about ancestors I wanted to know about and sharing findings with those who were also interested.


When I started on my mother-in-law's family, it was very exciting for her.  She shared her personal stories.  Many times I sat on the floor at her feet and wrote down as she told me.  My sister-in-law also had her write down her personal history so now we have it in her writing.  There is something special about seeing their handwriting as opposed to transcribed.


Every time I find a book, story, document about an ancestor, I will connect it to the FamilySearch Family Tree , which is a collaborative effort, as a source for others and myself to go back and read to learn more about that ancestor. Their stories make them real, not just a name.

I am using this blog and meme to start writing some of my stories that I have not written down, If you don't tell the stories, they are lost. I can't tell you how many times I look at at family name and wish I knew something of their story.  I have envy that I have to fuss at myself about, when others talk about their family journals.  My dad's family was closed mouth, and now I am recreating their stories.
At least they weren't horse thieves. :D

There has been research and studies done that shows how sharing your family history and stories shores up your family members when they have challenges, or even national trauma. It is called The Stories That Bind Us
 I ask you to join in saving the stories for future generations, Be the catalyst in your extended families for sharing and caring.

 

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Blue Raspberry Sundays: The Biggest Mistake

Not only is this a hard prompt, it is being addressed late. Oh, my.
Without a doubt, my biggest mistake in life was in a sequence.
I never took to time to learn to organize my household.  I let circumstances rule me, not the other way around. Don't get me wrong, I love organization. When I was a work, everything was in its place and there was a place for everything.  Of course, I kept things simple.

At home, oh my, a totally different story.  I did have things kind of organized, if you call a place for cloth in boxes, and crates for piles of papers (yes, if you are a genealogy friend, I am a pile organizer).
There were book shelves, and when the books were on the shelves they were organized to subjects. The big problem was I spent more time going out and helping people, spending time doing things with my children, and helping my husband, as well as working, than I did on keeping a clean organized house.  This was a big mistake. My husband would have been much happier had I been organized.

It translated into I did not teach my 6 children how to keep their homes and lives organized. For this I feel very bad.  Although, I will say, most have been much better than I am to the point of perfectionism.  Maybe it was because I drove them crazy and they didn't want that kind of life themselves.  I don't know.  The oldest daughter was a light for me when she taught provident living classes, and among that was how to organize yourself.  My other daughters remind me to keep calenders, and my sons, just look at me and shake their heads.
Thank goodness I know God loves me and accepts me, BUT I also know he wants me to stretch and grow and become better.  I had a wonderful friend who once (also a professed pile organizer) said that she was afraid to achieve an organized life because she figured she would be translated then and she had a lot to do for her kids.  I guess we all have our excuses.  This is in truth my biggest mistake. Some day, I hope to over come. J