I had a very “my heart is full” day yesterday.
I’d spent the day before with Sam’s family to celebrate his birthday, and then stayed at their home so as to go with them to the Memorial Day ceremonies at the vets’ cemetery the next day. Oh, this country. I hurt for it right now, but I love it so.
Then his relatives and we congregated back at his parents’ place for a barbecue. More love flying around.
Yesterday also happened to be my grandpa’s ninetieth birthday. He’s not much for big parties, but a few of the family had stopped by anyway, I guess, and so since Sam had never met any of my family I made him come with me.
They adored him.
I was talking to my uncle when Gran came hurrying over to tell us she’d found out that Sam is Basque. (We’re not, but some of my aunts and uncles married into Basque families.) I don’t remember the last time I saw Gran get so excited about something. We’d intended to stay only for about half an hour so he could get back on the road to go home. We were there for an hour and a half, and Sam was practically the belle of the ball – and I got to talk to my grandpa for a while.
I guess I haven’t mentioned it here but my mom’s mom died a few weeks ago, and while that had been impending for years, it does make me worry about whether or not I pay enough attention to the grandparents I have left. My dad’s dad is awfully special to me, and it was his birthday.
And then saying goodbye to Sam so I could drive home and he could drive home. We won’t see each other again till the end of the summer.
I got home and caught up on my notifications and ended up sending snapchats back and forth with a friend from CLV and suggesting we meet up at the first international day before we join each other at Swedish in the later half of the summer, and left a nice comment on a couple friends’ posts, and just, you know.
And my parents (who had stayed a bit longer at my grandparents’) came home, and we talked on the couch about a friend I’ve been worried about, and they are worried about her for my sake and for hers, too.
And today I went through some old photos that got parceled out when my mom’s mom died, lots of old ones from my mom’s childhood. School pictures from her and my dad’s early years of teaching. Sweet shots of my mom and her dad, of the whole family at the airport when she came home from college, of the early years of my parents’ marriage, mixed in with school pictures and sports pictures and vacation pictures and baby pictures of me and my sisters, and the odd photo of my mother and her own grandparents.
Lastly, I looked up the revised lyrics to “Leader of the Band” by Dan Fogelberg that were sung at my grandpa’s funeral a few years ago. In them, my uncle wrote, “We thank you for loving Mom, and never letting go.”
I can’t thank my father enough for loving my mom, my grandfathers enough for loving my grandmothers, my Sam enough for loving me, my sisters and my parents for loving me and each other, Sam and his family for loving each other…so much has been growing into place for so much longer than I know about to lead to my deep and wonderful happiness as it is right now.
Which is cool, because clearly right now I and my love for various people are growing into place so as to create that deep and wonderful happiness for my children, and theirs, and theirs…oh, you know.