First of all, I understand that my title sounds more like a 3rd grader's essay rather an almost 30 year old's blog post but deal with it. Second of all, please be advised that while some may say I have a way with words, sometimes matters of the heart are hard for me to express perfectly.
Let me begin by saying that my grandpa was an exceptional human being who taught me a lot. I'm going to start with saying that for the first time in my life I will admit I am spoiled. Now my siblings may have argued that I was spoiled forever since I'm the "baby" of the family but no that's not why I'm saying I was spoiled. I was spoiled by having Richard Borman as my grandpa. I am also spoiled because I was privileged enough to have met and spent time with all my grandparents and even some great-grandparents. But I digress...many people are reflecting on memories of him and so let me also, but not just memories but also feelings and life lessons that I've learned.
Looking back on my life so far, I would say prior to being a parent the happiest times of my life have been spent in Chippewa Falls ("ChipWa Falls") at my grandparents house. My parents got divorced when I was only 4 and so that in itself brought on a lot of challenges growing up; however, every summer from even before their divorce to up through high school, I would spend at least a week at my grandparents house sans parents. I don't know what it is about their house--probably the people in it, that make that place feel more home than home does. The amount of time I spent in Chippewa never seemed long enough. Even now, it is never long enough!
While growing up it was the little things that my grandpa would do that really made the difference there. He would take us to the park, swing with us, go for walks and can hunting with us. My grandparents let us play hide and seek all over their house and I only remember my grandpa yelling at us when we hid in their room. When we would visit, there was never a quiet moment but I don't recall him getting frustrated that his house was turned upside down or him ever seeming like we were an inconvenience. My grandparents allowed us to have sleepovers on their living room floor and stay up all hours of the night watching horror movies! Time at my grandparents house was special and always felt important--it was never dull or boring, partly because of cousins in the area but also because my grandparents made it special for us. My grandpa would buy cheese and make sure it was on hand for me---those that know me understand the importance of this little task. The first thing I would do, would be run in the house and ask Grandpa if he could get me some cheese, and by golly he would get right up and go get me some. Every morning Grandpa would bake up some donuts and have them on the kitchen table before anyone would get up. Okay I know what you're thinking, come on Veronica, you honestly don't think your Grandpa baked all those donuts, but let me tell you, for a time, I did! I thought he was magic---or a Superhero. I may have one point in time been what some may call gullible. Then after those delicious donuts, Grandpa would line up his assorted vitamins--like 20 or so and take them all in his hand and pop them in his mouth and swallow them in one fell swoop! To me, this was magic--or a Superhero. I can swallow pills but only 1 at a time and I would sit there AMAZED every time. He would just tell me, I put them in and they line themselves up and go down, 1 by 1. Grandpa taught me my "colors" and let me tell you I was pretty sure I knew what blue, pink, purple, orange and black were but after discussions with him, I may have felt a bit shaky on those basic skills. I try this test with my kids, but they aren't as much fun to do it with! :)
Grandpa's jokes were the best and while my favorite was probably the Sven and Oly "yump, frog, yump" joke. I also preferred the dam man who went to the dam to get some dam water but when he got to the dam the dam man told him he couldn't get any dam water because he forgot his dam bucket. Now I'm not entirely sure the whole joke but that is the jist of it! My husband, who never had the opportunity to meet his own grandpas, said Grandpa was his grandpa too and his favorite joke or rather first experience with him involved Grandpa telling him he was pregnant. This is how I envision that conversation going. Grandpa: "I'm pregnant, you know?" Chris: "oh yeah?" Grandpa: "Yep, and I know what I'm having." Chris: "Oh what?" Grandpa: "an elephant, 'cause I've seen it's trunk..." And that is how Chris Van Horn got initiated into the Borman family! :)
As I grew up, my relationship with grandpa changed or rather grew, I remember when I was in college, we sat at the kitchen table and talked politics for the first time. Lucky for me, I agree with him on that ground--but it was the first time that I felt like okay, maybe I'm not a kid anymore. I felt honored that he wanted to know my opinions on topics and that we would discuss them. He never once made me feel stupid or that what I was saying was unimportant.
Perhaps the most important thing I witnessed from my grandpa was his love. Love for his wife--my grandma or as I prefer to call her Nana. Love for his children, grandchildren and his great-grandchildren. My grandparents love for each other was/is amazing. They were married for nearly 61 years and I tell you, they loved each other probably just as much if not more than they did on their wedding day! My grandparents were the most beautiful couple I have ever seen. I'm not saying that they never had issues or that they never nit-picked but that was also what made their love real. Nana would do something that annoyed Grandpa or vice verse and then they'd "bicker" in their own way and then it'd be over! And he'd be back to doting on her. They were perfect for each other, they complemented each other perfectly. They had to, I mean after 8 children, if you don't fit perfectly together, I'm sure you'd have some issues. He provided for his family and my grandparents raised some TERRIFIC children. He'd have to be some kind of superhero in order to make it through raising those kids with any semblance of sanity left. (Don't worry, I think my Nana is a superhero too!)
My grandpa's outlook on life was phenomenal. No matter his condition he was always terrific. Seriously, even that last time I saw him, all he ever said was that he felt fine just that his legs were so weak. I mean, I'm historically a glass half full type of gal, but given his circumstances I don't know if I'd be saying everything is terrific; but again that's what makes him special. He may have been one of the most stubborn people I know---but he proved many a doctor wrong with his said stubbornness. Because of his ability to prove doctors wrong, I felt as though he was invincible---or a Superhero. My dad told me that my grandpa had said he planned on living til he was 100 since that was when his pension ran out, and if anyone was able to do that, I would have put money on my Grandpa. I never in a million years would have guessed that cancer would be his kryptonite. This is a man who suffered heart attacks and went through heart surgery and several other ailing health problems and seemed to bounce back. I was in denial I guess that this would do him in, as my cousin Kaci and I discussed in July, we were pretty used to the "crying wolf" with Grandpa--I was hoping that this was just another thing that he would bounce back from. Even when facing death, he said "well I've never done this before, and I'm always up for an adventure."
As I bring this post to a close, I have in no way summed up all what Grandpa meant to me and while I will miss my grandpa more than words could ever express, I am blessed to have been able to spend as much time with him as I did. As my uncle Joe has said, there is a little bit of Grandpa in all of us. While physically he is no longer with us, a little bit of him will go with us wherever we go. Everytime I hear someone say terrific, I will think of Grandpa. My dad's "voice" that can bring me to tears in .02 seconds reminds me of Grandpa's "mean voice" as my sister so aptly named it. I will definitely be telling people his jokes and Chris has already told people the pregnant with an elephant bit! Did I honestly think my grandpa would live forever, no...but I was hopeful! :) Do I believe he was a superhero? No, he was better than a Superhero because he was REAL. He was a REAL man who led a full life and left an amazing legacy which included: 8 children, 20 grandchildren and 7 great-grandchildren (to date). And I was privileged enough to call him Grandpa.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Sticks and stones...
Hello all:
It has been awhile since my last post, it's not because I have a lack of material to blab about but more because I have lack of time. Now don't get me wrong, I have plenty of time to get things done, it's the sheer lack of motivation and of course I now have at a minimum 2 needy individuals requesting my attention almost every minute of the day. It is very hard to type when holding a newborn and hard to concentrate with incessant questions and conversation from a 3year old. And that's only the part of the day when the 5 year old is at school and the 30 year old is at work. So alas I write now to you, because I have stolen away a peaceful minute when Ava (the now 7 week old) is content in her swing and Emma (the 3 year old) is hopefully not endangering herself or others.
This post is about being a mom. It's not a how-to it's more of a je ne sais quoi...of a realization about being a mom. When I was growing up, whenever I would throw a temper tantrum (or rather more of a pout fest is how I truly roll,) I would tell my mom that she was the meanest mom in the world. On numerous occassions, I would threaten to run away and even pack a backpack and walk out the back door. It wasn't until last week that I realized how cruel I was being to my mom. I was home with 3 children by myself attempting to get them to go to bed. Their room was a disaster and the living room/toy area was equally chaotic. I kind of lost it. I was like "I'm throwing away everything"...now mind you, this is truly an idle threat. I say it, and even sometimes get a trash bag but in reality their possessions would not get thrown away. However, I was sick of having to pick up clothes that had for the 3rd time that day been dumped out of the dresser and so I was at my breaking point. Lily (my overly dramatic yet sweet 5 year old) becomes hysterical. "I will have no clothes! You're so mean! I'm never coming back here, I'm going to live somewhere else and you'll never see me again!" Of course, had I mentioned it had been a long day. I say, calmly mind you "Okay Lily, you do that...I will miss you more than you know, but if that's what you want then okay." I then head into my room, pick up some dirty laundry and start to cry. She comes into the living room and throws herself into a chair sobbing about how she's such a terrible bad girl...which makes me upset because I have never said that ever to my children. In fact, it hurts me to hear her say things like that...and so I try and calm her down and explain that "Mommy is just tired of all the clothes...I don't wear Emma's clothes, or Lily's or Daddy's..." I say to her, so it does not seem fair that I continually need to be picking them up. The toys I tell her also are not mine and it doesn't seem right that I must pick them up. In fact I tell her, when I was young, I could not just leave me toys lying around like this and I never threw my clothes all over.
Okay, I've gotten off topic, however my point is that what she said hurt me deeply. Maybe she didn't mean it, I don't think she'd ever truly want to run away and live somewhere else, but none-the-less her words hurt me. I never saw my mom cry or heard her cry when I said almost those same exact words to her, but I bet I hurt her more than I realized at the time. Actually, if you had asked me back when I had said those words, I would never have thought they could have hurt my mom. They were just words, I didn't mean them...but yet here I was about 24 years later crying because my daughter had used the same words on me. There's that old saying "stick and stones, etc..." and it ends with "words may never hurt me." That is so NOT true! Words hurt probably more than sticks and stones. Perhaps words don't hurt physically but they definitely hurt emotionally. The physical wounds can heal but those emotional wounds most likely stay forever. They leave scars and if we're not careful those scars can be cut open again and again and again.
In our church bulletin last week there was a little ditty on the back that basically told you to think before you speak. The THINK actually was an acronym about what to think about before you speak...T was true, H helpful, I...(some word that starts with I) insightful maybe, N..nice (perhaps) and K for kind. I found this fascinating since just the previous night or two, I had the aforementioned experience with Lily. Now, I know that Lily did not mean those things and I will not hold those words against her but it made me realize how many times in my life have I said something to someone without thinking. How many times have I caused emotional scars that someone may have to live with forever?
I know that this blog has gotten a bit deep...and I'm not so much a serious person but I know that there have been times in my life that people have hurt me deeply (perhaps unintentionally) and I'm going to strive from here on out to think before I speak. We cannot change our past but we can affect our future. Also Mom, if you're reading this, I'm sorry!
Okay folks, if you're still reading this now, I hope that all is well with you and yours and until next time adieu.
It has been awhile since my last post, it's not because I have a lack of material to blab about but more because I have lack of time. Now don't get me wrong, I have plenty of time to get things done, it's the sheer lack of motivation and of course I now have at a minimum 2 needy individuals requesting my attention almost every minute of the day. It is very hard to type when holding a newborn and hard to concentrate with incessant questions and conversation from a 3year old. And that's only the part of the day when the 5 year old is at school and the 30 year old is at work. So alas I write now to you, because I have stolen away a peaceful minute when Ava (the now 7 week old) is content in her swing and Emma (the 3 year old) is hopefully not endangering herself or others.
This post is about being a mom. It's not a how-to it's more of a je ne sais quoi...of a realization about being a mom. When I was growing up, whenever I would throw a temper tantrum (or rather more of a pout fest is how I truly roll,) I would tell my mom that she was the meanest mom in the world. On numerous occassions, I would threaten to run away and even pack a backpack and walk out the back door. It wasn't until last week that I realized how cruel I was being to my mom. I was home with 3 children by myself attempting to get them to go to bed. Their room was a disaster and the living room/toy area was equally chaotic. I kind of lost it. I was like "I'm throwing away everything"...now mind you, this is truly an idle threat. I say it, and even sometimes get a trash bag but in reality their possessions would not get thrown away. However, I was sick of having to pick up clothes that had for the 3rd time that day been dumped out of the dresser and so I was at my breaking point. Lily (my overly dramatic yet sweet 5 year old) becomes hysterical. "I will have no clothes! You're so mean! I'm never coming back here, I'm going to live somewhere else and you'll never see me again!" Of course, had I mentioned it had been a long day. I say, calmly mind you "Okay Lily, you do that...I will miss you more than you know, but if that's what you want then okay." I then head into my room, pick up some dirty laundry and start to cry. She comes into the living room and throws herself into a chair sobbing about how she's such a terrible bad girl...which makes me upset because I have never said that ever to my children. In fact, it hurts me to hear her say things like that...and so I try and calm her down and explain that "Mommy is just tired of all the clothes...I don't wear Emma's clothes, or Lily's or Daddy's..." I say to her, so it does not seem fair that I continually need to be picking them up. The toys I tell her also are not mine and it doesn't seem right that I must pick them up. In fact I tell her, when I was young, I could not just leave me toys lying around like this and I never threw my clothes all over.
Okay, I've gotten off topic, however my point is that what she said hurt me deeply. Maybe she didn't mean it, I don't think she'd ever truly want to run away and live somewhere else, but none-the-less her words hurt me. I never saw my mom cry or heard her cry when I said almost those same exact words to her, but I bet I hurt her more than I realized at the time. Actually, if you had asked me back when I had said those words, I would never have thought they could have hurt my mom. They were just words, I didn't mean them...but yet here I was about 24 years later crying because my daughter had used the same words on me. There's that old saying "stick and stones, etc..." and it ends with "words may never hurt me." That is so NOT true! Words hurt probably more than sticks and stones. Perhaps words don't hurt physically but they definitely hurt emotionally. The physical wounds can heal but those emotional wounds most likely stay forever. They leave scars and if we're not careful those scars can be cut open again and again and again.
In our church bulletin last week there was a little ditty on the back that basically told you to think before you speak. The THINK actually was an acronym about what to think about before you speak...T was true, H helpful, I...(some word that starts with I) insightful maybe, N..nice (perhaps) and K for kind. I found this fascinating since just the previous night or two, I had the aforementioned experience with Lily. Now, I know that Lily did not mean those things and I will not hold those words against her but it made me realize how many times in my life have I said something to someone without thinking. How many times have I caused emotional scars that someone may have to live with forever?
I know that this blog has gotten a bit deep...and I'm not so much a serious person but I know that there have been times in my life that people have hurt me deeply (perhaps unintentionally) and I'm going to strive from here on out to think before I speak. We cannot change our past but we can affect our future. Also Mom, if you're reading this, I'm sorry!
Okay folks, if you're still reading this now, I hope that all is well with you and yours and until next time adieu.
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