The Last Weekend

So here I am, still in State College at Mom's house. I know, I know. I was supposed to have moved to Ohio yesterday, but I just wasn't ready to go. I thought I was ready. I thought I had almost everything packed. But then I started thinking of things, and more things, and then I got overwhelmed, and then I thought – wait! Why get overwhelmed when I don't actually have to be there for a few weeks? I want to get there early enough to get settled and feel at home in my new place, but why push myself on one of the rare occasions in life where I really don't have to? So I opted not to stress myself out.

Jo under stress -- this is what we want to avoid.

I'm calling that a step in the right direction. Opting to take measures to avoid getting stressed out. Maybe I am finally growing up after all.

It was a great decision. Even though there is part of me that aches to be starting my new life in Ohio, whatever it may hold – and that part of me wishes that I were there venturing out into new territory. But if I had gone – oh what I would have missed!

What I would have missed

Sunny Days

View from Mom's front yard

For one thing, for the last few days, we have been enjoying the most glorious weather. After enough humidity to last a lifetime (including during my going away party – less than comfortable conditions for having a houseful of people), it's just been wonderful to be able to spend hours sitting outside. And for a change, I actually have time to sit outside. Not sit and study. Not sit and work. Just sit. Maybe sit and read. Maybe sit and talk. But a lot of the time, just sit.

Frisbee
Or play frisbee with Zack! I'm terrible at frisbee, but we've had a great laugh tossing it back and forth in the back yard and laughing at how ridiculously horrible some of our throws (mostly mine) were, or at our comical attempts at making the impossible catch. Unfortunately I don't have any pictures of our frisbee games to share. You'll just have to use your imagination.

Lunch with Granddad


And today, Mom, Zack and I took Granddad out to eat at the Olive Garden. Granddad loves a good meal. It's in the genes. And since his birthday is next week – he's turning 93! – we had them bring out a bowl of ice cream with a candle in it and sing Happy Birthday. Most people would hate that. I would hate that. Zack would hate that. Mom would hate that. But Granddad ate it up (the singing, and the ice cream). "I thought this was a going away meal for Joanna, not a birthday celebration for me!" he protested, all the while grinning a grin as big as his bowl of ice cream.

Granddad turns 93!

When we drove Granddad back home, he asked me to come in to give him one last manicure before I leave. I hate giving Granddad manicures – frankly I can hardly stand giving myself a manicure. I have a thing about fingernails (don't even get me started on toe nails). But mostly I'm afraid I'll cut him. He takes Cumadin, so when he gets cut, he bleeds and bleeds – often ends up at the emergency room. But he appreciates it, so I do it – carefully. Anyway, after I finished the manicure, he thanked me and got a bit weepy, gave me a great big hug and told me he loved me. And then, of course, we all got weepy (OK, maybe Zack didn't get weepy). And then Granddad went on to tell us what a wonderful life he's had. How lucky he is. How much he thanks God every day for all of his blessings. Which somehow took his mind back to WWII, and he told us about how he used to pray every day, kneeling down, rifle in hand, asking God to get through this war. To get home. And he did. In one piece. One badly broken piece, but one piece nonetheless. And he thanks God for that every day.

I don't have the closest of relationships with God. I've never spent much time talking to God, whether to give thanks or to ask for help. Maybe it's my surplus of skepticism. It's not that I don't believe in God. I do. I just don't have much of a relationship with him. But recently I started reading "Eat, Pray, Love" which has caused me to reevaluate my relationship with God. And I have great respect for my Grandfather's relationship with God. I hope that, if I live to be his age, I can look back with such gratitude and joy.

Without fail, my visits with Granddad contain at least one moment that I will cherish forever.

Bella Crindy

Bella Crindy

The most exciting reason that I'm glad I decided to stay for one last weekend, is Bella. Mom and Zack got a puppy. I've never had a puppy. I've only had one dog – my beloved Alex, who is about 13 years old and the love of my life.

Bella meets Alex: "Please don't eat me!"

But I have never had a puppy. When our neighbor's Golden Retriever had nine pups, Mom decided she wanted one. I couldn't believe it. I thought Mom might one day want another dog, but not a puppy. Boy was I wrong. Since bringing Bella home, Mom has actually started to relax. That's something I haven't seen her do since I moved in last October. (That is not meant to imply that I'm what keeps her from relaxing -- but I'm sure I'm no help!) Now she has to get down on the floor and play. She has no choice! It's great! Bella keeps us laughing -- not to mention alert. You can't look away for a moment or you'll turn back to find that she's chewing your computer cord or, as she tried to do tonight, eating Zack's homework. I had thought it would be better for them to bring her home after I was gone, so that I wouldn't get attached. But now I'm glad I was here to see Bella Crindy's first few days in our crazy household. And honestly, there is nothing like a puppy to help you live in the moment. And to give you one more reason to reassess your relationship with God.

Tomorrow I have one more day of relaxation and playing with puppy (Oh right -- and some packing) before I'm off to Columbus on Tuesday morning. By Tuesday morning I'll be as ready as I'll ever be. But I sure am glad I stayed this weekend. Wouldn't have missed it for the world.

Jo not stressed out.