Grandma's House is Sold

I promised that I  would post some of the other photos that Ron Offen sent, but then I got very busy with work and also enjoying the summer weather.  Now, for some reason Blogger won't let me  upload them, so I'll have to show them to you in a separate post. 

Back to the summer weather. Last weekend was a perfect summer weekend.  I had a picnic in the park (Shake Shack burgers!) with my girlfriends, Barbara and Jen, (see photo below.) followed by some shopping at Sephora and some clothing stores. Then, after some girl time with Paola, we headed to a balcony barbeque at Yadh's apartment with Guillaume. 

At the BBQ, we met an interesting couple who had just gone on a hot air balloon ride in Clinton, NJ. They had a blast and the photos were excellent. My parents might do this one day. I hope they do.

Last Sunday was spent at the Long Beach on Long Island. For 

some reason, I love the beach. It's one of the only places that I can feel totally relaxed. For me, I think it's the sound of the water and the cool breeze. I also enjoy reading, and the beach is a great place to do that. So, we took the (crowded) train there and hung out by the water until the evening. After that, we went out to dinner in our neighborhood.  All in all, a perfect weekend.

I wanted this weekend to be more of the same. Elaine and I were supposed to go to P.S. 1 in Long Island City and then Water Taxi Beach, but it didn't work out. Instead I spent some time at the excellent public pool in my neighborhood (which has a Keith Hering mural from  1987) and shopped for Roller Blades.  If it doesn't rain, I'll use them tomorrow.

I finally learned how to roller blade near Canal Lachine while we were in Montreal a few weekends ago (see photo of us in front of the canal below). This is a big deal because I've been trying to learn how to rollerblade since high school. Let me tell you that Randolph, NJ is not the ideal place to learn to roller blade as it is filled with giant hills that spell certain death when you are on roller blades and have not learned how to use the brake. At that time, I tried anyway because I thought that my years of roller skating in the 80s would be enough of a prerequisite. 

Well, just like skiing isn't the same as snowboarding, roller skating and roller blading aren't very related. In the middle of a long hill, I ended up jumping into the grass to try to stop and executing a very ungraceful landing. Despite several years of roller skating birthday parties and all the experience one gets from that, I decided back then that rollerblading was way too scary for me. When I told this to Guillaume about a decade later, it wasn't good news as he loves rollerblading. So, I decided to give it another whirl a couple of weekends ago.

Even though I have a good idea about how it works now, I'm still sticking to flat terrain, and I'm excited to have gotten that far. I'm going to test them out on the bike path near the Hudson River. I could even rollerblade to work if I wanted to!

Anyhow, I digress.  The reason I started writing is to announce that my grandma's house has been officially sold. This is a bittersweet occasion and an end to a chapter of my life. I am glad that my parents and my aunt and uncle won't have to put any money into the place in order to sell it, but it's weird to think that another family will be living there. I feel kind of silly even saying that, but it's true.

As I've said before, that house has been a second home to me ever since I can remember. Though it was far away, we made journeys there at least a few times a year.  My sister and I both were babies while my grandma lived in that house. Since my sister and I are so far apart in age, it's rare to find a commonality like that. But now that's over.  It's someone else's house now.

I feel lucky, though, that I was able to enjoy my grandmother through my early  30s and that she was able to keep her house until she passed the 90-year mark. I'm proud of her for maintaining her independence and fighting for it right to the end. Though, it made things difficult for us much of the time.  

It's sad to see the end of an era, but I suppose it has to happen at some point. I already miss knowing that the house in Canfield is still there, all in tact just as it has always been, waiting for me to come home. 

Amy's Memories of Grandma Isabel

Submitted by Amy A.

People say when someone dies you eventually forget their voice.  However, 

during the funeral of grandma Isabel I heard her voice and laughter through the windchimes and the wind delicately blowing

through the leaves nearby.  When the wind and chimes picked up during the ceremony we all knew it was her watching from above laughing away the clouds and storms that were supposed to plague that very day.  Everyone seemed to agree it was her way of not letting the weather rain out her last goodbye.  It was a beautiful day and a simple, but lovely funeral.  The priest said a few words.  We listened to one of grandma's favorite psalms from the bible called psalm 23.  The passage summed up to mean 'It will all work out if you believe in God and follow in his steps.'  So I will remember most about grandma is that she always said 'It will all work out'  because she said it often.  Then from there, my mom said that to me, and I have already started saying it to my friends.  So grandma's words will live on and pass though all of us.  She will be with me and everyone's lives she has touched forever.

Peace, Love, and Happiness      

PICTURED: Amy at her college graduation last month.

Grandma's Memorial

On Friday night, Guillaume and I left work and headed to Canfield, Ohio. Unfortunately, there's no real easy way to get there. We took a plane from Newark, NJ to Pittsburgh. From there, we rented a car and drove to a motel in Austintown.

The flight was almost as long as driving. We ended up having a delay before boarding the plane. Then we sat on the runway for an hour. When we got to Pittsburgh, there was no gate for us. So, we waited there, too. Finally we got our luggage and rented the car and were on our way! After a stop at McDonald's for some (pretty good!) coffee, we rolled into Austintown around 1 am. I was exhausted even with the large cup of coffee in my system.

We couldn't see much of Austintown at night, but we were able to see that our motel was conveniently located between two go-go bars. There was also a Starbucks. Guillaume and I ate our breakfast there at a table with an umbrella over it next to the highway. The weather was so gorgeous that I forgot about the whoosh of the highway and enjoyed the sun.

The Memorial went very well. Mom and Aunt Carole did a nice job of planning it. I didn't know what to expect or how I would feel when I got to the cemetery. Work was so busy the last couple of weeks, so I didn't have time to think about it too much. Clutching my notebook, I walked toward the gravesite feeling a little queasy.

When the funeral director brought out my grandma's ashes, it felt like someone kicked me in the stomach. I had the same feeling when I saw my other grandmother in her casket. There's something powerful about that moment. It knocks the wind out of you and leaves you feeling vulnerable. That's when the tears started. I don't know what I was surprised that I was crying.

Grandma passed away several months ago. I had already gone through the various stages of grief, but I never felt the closure that a funeral brings. I realized that I was going to have to go through this crucial step. Not sure why I didn't see it coming. I guess I let the daily stress of work block it out.

I focused on the sticker that was bearing my grandmother's name, which was typewritten onto a label on the box of ashes. It felt surreal and also painfully final.

After Aunt Carole's reading, I managed to stop crying enough to try and read the notes that I had prepared. I was overcome with emotion. The pastor/reverend stood next to me and I felt slightly better.

I didn't end up reading my notes, but instead I clutched them to my heart and tried to summarize them. I kept thinking how lucky I was to know my grandmother and how special she was. Whenever I called her with a problem, she always told me that it would all work out. It seems so trite, but it would always take the pressure off. I can still hear her voice saying that when I am very upset. That's something that will stay with me always.

I cried through my words, but it felt good to get them out. I looked out at my family and saw them tearing up, too. I felt ridiculous standing up there crying in front of everyone, but I couldn't help it.

Still sobbing, I went back to my place with my family. That's when other people began to speak up about my grandmother. Listening to them share their stories and memories soothed me. I didn't want to end. It almost felt like their words would some how bring her back to life or that she would suddenly come walking over laughing at how she fooled us. Of course that didn't happen. Instead, dirt was spread over her grave as we watched.

After chatting with my grandmother's friends, we left the cemetery and went to the luncheon. The food was good and we shared more memories of my grandmother. My sister put together a beautiful collage of my grandmother that was displayed there. She did an excellent job. It's pictured above.

The rest of the day was spent traveling down memory lane. We stopped by at the now mostly empty house where my grandma lived for about 30-something years. The outside looked the same, but the inside was not the place I remembered. It was stripped down to a few chairs, curtains and wallpaper. It felt like someone else's house.

But that didn't stop the memories from flooding back. A trip to SeaWorld to see Shamu. My grandfather in his recliner with the television cranked up at full volume. Games and toys lined up by the fireplace for me when I arrived from the long drive from NJ. Sitting under the kitchen table on the gold shag rug listening to the grown ups talk about golfing and medications. Getting my head stuck in the railing of the upstairs banister while playing jail by myself (before Amy was born). The note from my grandpa that we found after he died that said that Ed would buy the boat.

All my life, that house had been the same. Now, it was dismantled and my grandmother and her bubbly laugh were gone, too. It was one of the many weird moments of life when you are forced to face the fact that things change and that life's too short and that you should treasure every moment of it.

It's hard to face all of those things, but I think it's necessary. With all the stresses we have, it's easy to forget the things that really matter and take things too seriously. Deep down I know it will eventually all work out.

Leaving for Ohio Tomorrow!

Tomorrow Guillaume and I leave for Ohio to attend my Grandma's memorial. I'm glad to finally get the chance to celebrate her life and say my final goodbyes. It still doesn't feel real that she's gone.  

There has been so much time to prepare, but it doesn't feel like enough time. My colleague Amber asked me today what my grandmother was like. I found myself talking about how youthful she was. How she bowled until she was about 90 and played golf until she was 85. I remember visiting at Thanksgiving and playing the piano with grandpa. We would make a trip to the mall on Black Friday and she would buy me something for my birthday. She had many friends both young and old. She managed to live on her own in Ohio many years after my grandfather's death. It was pretty amazing. 

I know this weekend is going to be hard for me, but it will also be nice to remember her with my family.  She is pictured above way before I knew her. I think it was taken sometime in the 1960s. Maybe when she went to pick up my mom at college. I'm not sure.

The Magic Compact

I'm not sure how it started, but when Amy was little she believed grandma had a magic compact. It could've been from some TV show on Nickeodeon or something, I'm not sure. Anyhow, Amy loved to play with grandma's magic compact. In this picture, you can see Amy in her fancy sunglasses and the magic compact and Grandma Isabel at my parents' house. 

May 31st in Canfield - Isabel's Memorial

The plans are being made for Isabel's memorial service on May 31st in Canfield, Ohio. It looks like it will happen around 11 am with a meal afterwards. I am looking forward to being with my family and remembering my grandmother at this event. I'm putting together photos of her for a collage. If anyone has any photos or memories they would like to share with the rest of the family, please feel free to e-mail or mail them to me.  I can provide additional details to anyone who would like to come. 

A Christmas Past with Grandma Isabel

I found some photos of Grandma Isabel and Amy from Christmas 2002. It was the last Christmas that we were all together -- both my grandmas, Mark and Genevieve. It was a good time.

Here's Grandma alone:

Here is a photo of Amy and Grandma during a "bow fight."

A Christmas Past

Grandma Isabel came to celebrate Christmas with us in New Jersey some times. She would fly in a few days before and help us with the preparations. 

My Mom and Amy like to bake sugar cookies and decorate them.  Amy also likes to bake cheese cakes for family functions. My Dad decorates the house with all kinds of things that have been passed down from his parents and given as gifts from friends and relatives.  My Dad also spends some time wrestling with lights on our artificial tree.

On Christmas Eve, our extended family comes to have dinner and to open presents. As a kid, this was like pre-Christmas. I would get a bunch a gifts after the adults slowly ate their dinner and finished their coffee. I was the youngest in the family for a long time as my sister is 9 years younger than me, so I had no one to commiserate with. It always seemed like forever until we opened the presents. Eventually after the presents were all given, my parents and I would get into the car where I would fall asleep thinking of what I was going to get the next morning.

One of the most memorable Christmases was the last time my grandmother came. She was still feeling pretty good then and we had a great time. She was really friendly and personable and good at parties. Her laughter was musical and catchy.

 

On Christmas Eve, we exchanged gifts and hung out with my dad's side of the family. My second cousins, Jeff and Nicole brought their dogs, Mary and Wilma. My second cousins, Pete and Liz, have two little girls ages 9 and 11 who make the holidays more fun. My grandma liked to talk with my Great Aunt Kathryn (shown above). 

We'll miss her this year!

Thanksgiving

Growing up I always celebrated Thanksgiving in Ohio. We usually left early Thursday morning and drove the packed car for approximately seven hours until we arrived at grandma and grandpa's doorstep. 

Along the way, we had our favorite stops to eat and go to the bathroom. One of my favorites was "The Bald Eagle," which was a real, old school truck stop with juke boxes at the tables, greasy food, and a gift shop with trucker necessities. Later, they changed the name to "The Eagles Nest" and added amenities such as telephones at the tables, showers, laundry facilities and a little cinema. At my last visit, I bought an "I love trucking" t-shirt.  

Unfortunately, Mom grew tired of the Eagles' Nest eventually and we started going to the "Dutch Pantry." This is a chain of quasi-fast food restaurants in Pennsylvania. Usually there are a lot of old people in there and the food isn't too bad. The best part is the golf tee games they put on the table to occupy you while you wait. Most highway places don't miss an opportunity to sell you something, so there was a little gift shop there, too. I looked forward to purchasing "fire balls," which are spicy jaw breakers. We also used to buy some chocolate cow pies for my friends. Very quaint.

The drive was only the beginning of the magical journey to Canfield. Upon arrival, there were usually toys or games for us to play with.  I would run around to find Taffy, their Yorkshire Terrier.  I was amazed at how she peed on newspaper. Later, Grandma would serve a big dinner with turkey and stuffing and all the rest. We would get to eat on the good china in the dining room. Grandpa would do his famous version of grace and then we would dig in.  After eating the delicious pumpkin pie we felt pleasantly stuffed and sleepy.

Black Friday was always spent at an Ohio mall. After complaining about parking and fighting for a spot, we'd shop for clothes or whatever and grab lunch somewhere -- probably Ashley's or Perkins.  At night, we'd play "Heart and Soul" on the piano and watch television. When Amy was little, she would disappear into the living room, sit on the piano bench and pound out her own little songs. Everyone would comment on her skills and cheer her on.  It was cute.

This year, we spent Thanksgiving in New Jersey with my second cousins and little god daughters. We had a great

 time with everyone and the meal was delicious. During the meal, I couldn't help but remember all the Thanksgivings we spent in Ohio.

Here's Grandma Isabel as a little girl!

Sharing Memories

To prepare for the upcoming memorial, I thought it might be fun and helpful to create a space for our family to share photos, memories, and other stories about Isabel's and our lives. I also thought it would be a fun way to keep everyone connected. 

By using a blog, we can all create posts and leave comments for others whenever it is convenient for us. I know we all have busy lives, but it will only take a minute to contribute a photo or some text that could bring a smile to someone's face.

This is a "team blog," which means that any of you can join the blog and write posts by accepting the invitation sent by me. You can also comment on other people's posts at any time. Click on "comments" to leave a comment. You can write about anything you'd like to share with the group. This blog will be private, so only the people we allow to see it will see it.

I hope you will join so that we can get a little bit closer!

Love,

Heather