Easter's open tomb

Easter is here.  A time when we remember, (for those of us who believe the God sent us his only son so that he might die to save us), that Christ died for us and rose from the dead three days later.  As a person of faith I believe that if she wasn't already in heaven, its at this time of the year that she would be allowed into heaven.  More than just the idea of resurection of our loved ones have passed, this holiday also serves as a reminder to me of the many Easter's from the past spent with my Grandma. The last Easter spent with Grandma was spent with Grandma in a rehab facility and attending mass there.  However, its the many memories of Easter's with Grandma that I am thinking about today.

 

When I was a young girl, as Easter weekend came upon us, I would sit in the kitchen as my Grandma would spend Good Friday and Holy Saturday making lamb cakes and other baked items.  Then on Easter Sunday we would return to her house, dressed in our cute and fancy Easter outfits, to enjoy an easter meal.  The one item that almost everyone would enjoy was Grandma's Pistachio Salad.  Even to this day my brother in law would fight everyone to get most of the Pistachio Salad.  After the meal of Polish Sausage, ham, several types of salad and the dessert of the Lamb cake, my sisters and I would be given the task of searching for little plastic eggs hidden through Grandma's house with our names on it.  Inside would be candy and money.  Going to Grandma's house on Easter was my favorite thing.  Her house would smell like two things:  spring from the Easter lillies, and the Easter meal...mostly of Polish Sausage and hard boiled eggs.  As we got older and Grandma's house seemed to get smaller, it soon became that Easter would be celebrated at my mom and dad's.  Easter at this point lost its excitement.  Easter had always been about going to Grandma's.  I think that it was at this point that I realized I was getting older.

 

The plastic Easter eggs, my Grandma once told me, reminded her of tomb that Jesus was buried in.  We are given the task of finding the eggs, like the disciples went looking for the tomb.  Once we found the eggs we openned it in anticipation of finding something in there...much like the disciples went anticipating to see Jesus. Once we find the eggs and open them we were much happier to see that what was inside was much better than we anticipated...much like the disciples did about finding that Jesus had found that risne from the dead.  Once we ate all the candy or took out the money (usually a dollar or quarters...) the egg was empty...much like the tomb.  As a child I thought my Grandma had thought too much into these types of things.  Now as an adult, this is something that I am reminded of this year.

 

A couple years ago my brother hosted Easter at his home.  The easter egg hunt had taken on a different twist and was more of a treasure hunt than only an easter egg hunt.  hidden with each egg was a clue where to find the next egg.  My nieces and nephews had a blast looking for these as each one of them got to choose one adult as their buddy to read their new clue.  The culmination of these clues led them back to Grandma who, while dressed in her nice new pink sweater she was so excited to show off, sat smiling and laughing as they little kids came up to "Busia" to get their Easter baskets.  And the Easter bunny had even gotten Grandma a chocolate bunny of her own!

 

This year our family will be spread all over the place.  It is the first Easter that our family will not all be together for the Easter meal.  It is the first Easter without Grandma.  Regardless of where we all are, I know that my Grandma is still with us.  This Easter is her Resurrection time, for we know that she is now in heaven.  And this year as I look at the empty plastic Easter eggs at the stores I will remember the empty tomb that Grandma taught me about.

 Apologies for no picture this week.  There appears to be a problem with blogspot and the link to add the picture is not working correctly.  Attempts will continue to be made to post the picture.  This week's 50 shades of Pink for Gertie color is Luminous Tulip.  It was donated by Cathy Jimenez of New Carlisle.

 

 

 

When Life Hands You Lemons

It seems like this year has been the worst year of my life ever.  My Grandma passes away, we have a semi costly repair to our new car (bought used last fall) and just this last Friday I was laid off. (Hopefully to return back within a few weeks if not sooner.)  While all of this has gotten me down in the past and I have to admit it did affect me quite a bit this year, one lesson that Grandma has helped me learn is that when life hands you lemons, squeeze the heck out of them and make lemonade (but make sure to save the rind.)

 

My Grandma was a  resourceful woman.  Whether it was coupons or her stockpile of items in her basement or her multitude of craft items, it seems that grandma could figure out a way to make things work.  She always made lemonade out of lemons.  She wouldn't let me get down on things.  Sure I could cry with her but before I would leave after spilling my sorrows out on the dining room table as we'd sit talking, she would help me come to some sort of conclusion to what I needed to do or how she could help me figure things out.  I saw the things that my Grandma sacrificed for others so that she could help them out.  And she was a saver....boy, was she a saver!  It wasn't uncommon for her to clean and wash in the sink with soap the tv meal plates, plastic plates and plastic silver wear, and even an occasional plastic cup or two in order to reuse them again.  While so many would just throw these items out, she would make them spotless and use them a few more times in order to save from having to buy more.  A penny saved was a penny earned.  Some would call that a cheapskate.  Grandma called that resourceful!

 

It's not easy being positive when life is dragging you down.  Shortly after her leukemia diagnosis when we brought Grandma home, I went and kneeled by her to talk to her to see if she understood the whole diagnosis and everything that was going on.  Grandma said to me that she had "Blood Cancer" and that they call it Leukemia.  The next thing she said would have made most people think that she might have been in denial about the illness.  I knew better.   Her next words were, "There is no cure, but now that I am home again, I know that it will get better."

 

Grandma wasn't meaning that the Leukemia would get better or cured.  Rather, Grandma was telling me that now she was at home with all of us that she could be at peace.  That she could be positive about the illness and was ready to deal with her impending death.  For the many years she spoke to me about how she was afraid to die, she had realized that these next few days with her family were all she needed for everything to be better and for her to be ready to pass from this life into the next.  She was handed a lemon when her diagnosis came....and she made lemonade.

 

Each memory and lesson I have learned is that penny saved and my penny earned.  However, it is more like a penny saved but a priceless amount earned.  What Grandma gave me and left me with as a person is enough to get me through all the tough times I have been through this year.  Now, in my head I think daily WWGD...What Would Grandma Do?

                                                   Starfish is this week's color.  This is from
                                                   my own personal collection.

                                        

 

 

One Tough Lady

As I have grown and gotten older, I find myself reflecting alot more about the impact that people have had in my life.  Some people come and go in our lives and some stay a part of it from start to finish.  As we think about it, each person, regardless of the length of time spent with us, has impacted us in some way, whether great or small.  My Grandma was one that was there from my start in life some almost 40 years ago until her death a few months ago.  Aside from our parents there are so few people we can name in our lives that have that time of longevity.  I was blessed that this Grandma had that.  What I attribute this longevity to was that she was one tough lady.  Her toughness and sense of survival is what kept her going.  It is also what rubbed off on me quite a bit.  Some call it stubbornness.  Some call it hard-headedness.  I called it "Grandma."

 

Since Grandma was almost 97 when she passed, she had gone through alot in life.  She survived the great depression, all the wars that occurred between 1916 and now, many presidents and many popes.  She survived the death of two husbands and all of her parents, siblings, and even her spouses' siblings.  She even survived the death of a few niece and nephews. Through these experiences, somehow she always made it through.  I honestly believe that many times it is because she had to and because of her toughness.

 

On the outside, you would see this lady like person.  She never wore blue jeans until she was in her 80's and even then they had to look dressy.  Her hair had to be just right or she wouldn't leave her home, her clothes could not have a wrinkle, and god forbid there be any sort of pantie line showing.  On the inside though, she was a survivor.  All the challenges in life she was given she somehow survived.  She knew how to change a flat tire (even though I don't think she really ever had to,) and she could manicure her yard with flowers and decorations that would rival any master gardener.  Her years of working in a factory at Wilson Brother's and sewing toughened her hands yet as I held them in the days and hours before her death, they were gentle and smooth and you could see that the toughness was not on the skin but in the movement and the knuckles that had tiredlessly worked to support her family, crochet blankets and afghans for all her grandchildren, and to cook amazing meals.

 

She knew how to survive.  Whether as a kid or an adult, my grandmother, having lived through the great depression, became a stock piler like so many others who had during that time.  I wouldn't call her a hoarder as she shared her stock piles with others.  Shortly after leaving the convent and moving home, I got an apartment with my brother.  I didn't make alot of money and so I had to figure out how to budget for all my basic needs.  Whenever I went to Grandma's house she always made sure that I left home with supplies and food from the stockpile she kept on the shelves in the basement of the house.  When my husband and I moved into our new house, she was there that day with at least 4 grocery bags full of food and supplies.  She knew me so well that she knew what I liked and didn't like. ( No one knew me like she did.) One day as I pulled out coupons and started sorting them and filing them in my coupon binder, my Grandma smiled from ear to ear with delight.  I believe it was at that moment that she realized that I had understood what she had been showing me and teaching me all these years.  She knew her legacy and that the strongest part of her would live on after her body was no longer able to...her will to survive.

 

As I reflect on it now, my Grandma's impact in this role in my life has been one of the greatest gifts I have been given.  She taught me how to survive.  Over the years as I thought about my Grandma's impending morbidity...which I am sure we all do about someone in our lives...I could see how it would impact me.  I thought about and warned people about the need for support during this times and the envisionment I had of me just sitting and rocking in a corner, not being able to go on living.  I couldn't see how I would be able to live my life without her in it.  I didn't want her to ever die.  That's not only an improbability but an impossibility, I know.  However, I kept wishing it would never happen. Survival isn't about living as long as possible.  Survival is about just living and making it through each day no matter how long you are here on earth.

 

Today as I sit here typing I am still alive.  I have survived her passing.  Have I survived the grief and the feeling of loss...no.  But I don't have to yet.  What Grandma taught me about surviving is that it is a life long process.  You do not overcome something and get over it.  Rather, you overcome the event and learn how to live with the life changing events for the rest of your life....kinda like the impact that others have on us.  What we chose to do with our grief and these life changing events is what becomes part of our legacy.  The legacy of my grandma that I know must continue on is the ability to be a survivor.  Someday, I know it will be my role to pass that along to my nieces and nephews and hopefully someday my own child.

 

I know I was blessed to become the woman I am today because I was given one tough lady as a part of mine.

 

 

 

 

 

Tough Chick  by Sally Hansen is this week's 50 Shades of

Pink for Gertie Nail Polish.  Believe it or not ladies, it was

actually picked out and purchased for me by my husband,

Jeff Murawski.  He said that my Grandma was always

one tough chick!

 

 

 

(Disclaimer about last week's nail polish.  Let this serve as a warning that the glitter nail polish is tougher than Haedes to get off!  It took two days and half a bottle of nail polish along with a buffer to get it all off.  It did cause some damage to my nails as it caused them to separate and peel on a couple of the nails...this why two of my nails look shorter!  Be warned that it is a harsh nail polish.)

 

 

Pass It On

Not long after the diagnosis of my grandma's leukemia...actually that same day...I began to feel loss.  A few weeks earlier I hadn't even been thinking about my grandma passing away let alone having a terminal illness.  I was sitting enjoying her company and her holding and playing with the foster kids that were living with us at that time.  She had a smile so bright and she laughed and smiled at the 3 1/2 year old little girl as "The Princess" as we'd call her would twirl around and then run to show my grandma something or inquire about something in my Grandma's apartment.  The joy that filled my heart watching her in these interactions was like the joy of a child on Christmas morning unwrapping gifts that they believe came from Santa.  The loss I soon would begin to know only a few weeks later as we were told that she had weeks to months to live felt like my heart being ripped out from inside me.

 

This weekend I found some peace.  I had been dwelling in such sadness over the loss of Grandma that I started to lose sight of the things that she taught me.  I had wanted to hold on as hard as  I could to every piece of her, whether it be clothing, jewelry, or even a blanket, that I started to forget what the stories were behind  them and the true message she was giving me or had taught me that made those memories so special.  I even began to lose communication with my husband.  My life which had been  going well and growing...or so I thought...prior to Grandma's diagnosis and death soon became a downward spiral.  I know that life isn't all glitter and unicorns...but my life had become a wasteland of depression.  I am sure my posts weekly might have even reflected that.

 

This weekend I realized that the best gift I can give to Grandma and in her memory will be not to sit and mope and wish she hadn't died.  I can't change that it happened when and how it did.  Rather, the greatest thing that I can do in her memory is start to pass on the legacy that she left behind for me.  I can share her stories and the message behind it.  I can pass it on.

 

My Grandma has been a part of a movement called Cursillo...something that Jeff and I have been a part of as well.  I remember her one time saying how much she loved the song, "Pass it On." Today I sat and reread the lyrics and was struck when I read the verse that says, "I wish for you my friend, this happiness that I've found."  It reminded me that my Grandma has found happiness.  A happiness that I have yet to know but someday I hope to experience when I am reunited with God.  I will always be sad that I lost my Grandma, but she helped form me to be the person I am today.  In that way, she gave me the spark I needed to be the person I have become today.  It's now my responsibility to pass it on. 

 

What did my grandma give me?  She gave the task of dreaming the impossible dream.  Like from the musical, Man of La Mancha where Don Quixote spends his life trying to achieve the dream that everyone told him he was foolish for trying to, I too must not give up on my life, my dream, my call.  Grandma fought for her little dreams but they were her greatest achievement yet.  It's us.  She always wanted to have a family.  While she only ended up with one daughter, she had all of us Grandchildren by her side throughout life.  She was never truly alone. She lived her life without wearing masks like we so often wear.  She was true to her quest in life.  She was bold, brash, and honest. While though all the days I spent with grandma throughout my 39 1/2 years of life taught me many lessons, I know that the greatest lessons I still have yet to learn from being her legacy.

 

I chose Pink Glitter this week as my color.  Actually, my husband Jeff did.  It's bright and full of little glitter pieces.  He said it reminded him of something recently seen on Facebook...a picture that had a little child looking up to the heavens at night and the words printed below it said, " I like to look to the stars at night and believe that they are all the faces of the ones I love who have all gone to heaven, looking down and me."  I know if this is true I can never ever be alone.

 

 

                                                 "Pink Glitter" from my personal collection,

                                                  but picked out by my husband, Jeff Murawski

 

How Great Thou Art

The inspiration for today's post came off the radio...literally.  On Thursday on our way to work, my husband decided to turn on the radio.  Wednesday had been a rough day and I found it difficult to find the energy and desire to even go to work on Thursday.  Irregardless, I put on my big girl pants and got up to go to work, figuring I could hold it together for 8 1/2 hours.  That was the thought until my husband turned on the radio and a specific song came on.  Then all hope of holding it together was lost.

 

As a child, I stayed often with my Grandma whether it was a weekend, summer vacation, or sometimes even just during the week when I was too young to go to school.  My childhood was not during a time where VCR's, cell phones, or electronic game systems were available.  At that time, television consisted of a big floor console TV with rabbit ears so even at that time there wasn't much to watch on tv.  Grandma would start the day listening to the radio she had in the kitchen and most often the music consisted of country or gospel music since the Polish music hour wasn't but once a week on Sunday mornings.  It wasn't uncommon to hear grandma singing, as she cooked or cleaned, one of the songs that had been on the radio earlier that morning.  The song  I would hear her sing most often was the gospel song, "How Great Thou Art."  Thursday morning when Jeff turned on the radio, which was uncommon as we often rode the ride to work without the radio, the song that came on the radio that morning was the song, "How Great Thou Art." This was not a common song played on the radio station we were listening to.  Was it a sign from Grandma?  It could be, but whether it was or not, the memories of those times as a child sitting in the kitchen coloring or drawing at the kitchen table came flooding back to my memory.

 

Grandparents are truly special people and I, for one, am lucky to have had the Grandma that I had.  The special bond that we shared is one that I hadn't had with my other Grandma but one that lasted a lifetime.  I loved listening to her singing to the radio, making fresh baked goods and teaching me how to play cards or crochet.  I think it was she who taught me to listen to the words of the music because it could speak words of emotions and feeling.  I would catch her sometimes getting teared up as a song came on that reminded her of my Grandpa.  Mostly, the songs filled her with a sense of strength and faith.  She'd smile as she'd sing it.  While she didn't have a superstar singers voice and sometimes her timing was off, she could hold a tune.  And while it was actually Carrie Underwood singing the song on Thursday morning, the only voice I could hear was that of my grandma as she would stir the food on the stove, moving around the kitchen with grace.

 

O Lord my God, When I in awesome wonder,
Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made;
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

When through the woods, and forest glades I wander,
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees.
When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur
And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

And when I think of God, His Son not sparing;
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the Cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation,
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.
Then I shall bow, in humble adoration,
And then proclaim: "My God, how great Thou art!"

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

When I think back to January 5th and her passing, I know she was singing these last words: When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation, and take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.  Then I shall bow, in humble adoration, and then proclaim, "My God how great though art..."

 

Today's 50 Shades of Pink color is appropriate to my grandma.  This week's color is called Angelic by Revlon.  This color was in my personal stock of nail polishes and is soft and gentle in color.  My Grandma, as I may have mentioned in the past, was a collector of Angels, whether it was pins, statues, or cards so I know this is a color that my grandma would have probably wanted on her nails!

 

 

                                          "Angelic" by Revlon from my personal collection.

 

 

 

                                             Grandma, Grandpa, My mom, younger sister Melanie

                                             and I in the kitchen at Grandma's first house.