Grandma and the hibachi grill

Many of us have a plethora of memories of our grandparents.

From the honk of my Grandpa's little Datsun pick-up on a summer morning to lazy afternoons fishing with a bamboo pole with my grandma, some things are so vivid they seem like they could have happened yesterday. I will forever remember the feel of my Grandma's hands when she would rub my legs while I sprawled out on her kitchen counter watching Sesame Street. (Isn't it great that Grandma's let you do things like lay on their kitchen counters?) What is unique about her hands is that she has worked those short German hands to the core on a daily basis all her life- milking cows, gardening, kneading bread, needlework - and they remain softer than mine will ever be. (I suppose that's for another posting)

The long list of moments with all my grandparents are ingrained in my head and is a continual storybook that I can't even begin to list here.

One recent experience that I thought was just another night out resulted in something that will be a precious memory that I will want to share someday with my children and probably their children.

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My sister-in-law's invitation to join my aunt and uncle and my 89-year-old Grandma for a special dinner out was a very kind gesture. My husband and I drove to my brothers house and subsequently traveled with our fellow diners (my nieces, cousins, and the forementioned people) to a Japanese hibachi grill. Many of us had never been to a restaurant of this type but it was certain that my Grandma probably didn't even have an idea of what was to take place.

We were seated and she began to watch other tables attentively when the large flames would fly up from the hot grills at each table. Then, it was our turn. I should note that my Grandma has a very progressed hearing loss. When the chef at our table sent that 3 foot flame up in front of her she really had no idea it was coming. She turned her head away and instantly the flame was gone.

Dinner progressed with flying eggs and erupting vegetables and Grandma likened the excessive amounts of food to a farm experience. "It's like when we used to feed the hogs with a scoop shovel," she said, comparing the chef's large spatula spreading food towards all of us.

After dinner, my grandma was chatty with excitement during the full hour drive back to my brother's house but it wasn't until days later that I realized what a night at the Hibachi grill with my grandma really meant. This was precious time that will not be available to me forever. The setting could have been a Taco Bell - it wasn't a factor - but the core of the matter was that I had spent a very memorable evening with my grandmother and other family members.

The image of an 89-year-old German woman with a 3 foot flame in front of her will be forever engraved in my mind - but more importantly it's held so close in my heart.

Give your Grandma or Grandpa a hug!

Stress relief, each to their own

During a recent doctor's appointment, my physician asked me what I did for stress relief. I rattled off a few things including walking, a hot bath/shower, talking on the phone and then shyly included crying. She gave a small smile and then told me that she thought those all sounded like great ways to destress. I had just been given permission to CRY!

At age 25, it's OK for me to cry - my doctor says so. It's really not a secret to those close to me that I can turn on the waterworks pretty easily. My sorority sisters often gauged the emotional tension of a situation on whether I was crying and one college professor still testifies that he keeps an extra box of Kleenex on hand just for me. (Ironic that we happen to work in the same building now.)

However, my own reaction and susceptibility to crying has evolved somewhat. I recently noticed a girl walking on the college campus and crying profusely. She was attempting to tell someone on the other end of the phone how awful a college exam had been. I rolled my eyes and thought to myself that she had no idea how miniscule that type of worry was. Then, I realized that this image was me just a few short years ago. She had every right to relieve this stress in her life by crying or in whatever way worked for her.

There's so many different opinions on crying - that accompany various stages of life. Little boys are mocked as cry babies by their friends when they fall down and go screaming to wrap their arms around the knees of their mothers. Yet, others find it completely acceptable that grown females cry at holiday Hallmark commercials. For now, my opinion is to do what fits your life, personality etc.

Stress relief does come in very different packages. Some people become introverted, others run, while still others (like me) need to just break down in a full throttle balling session.

Happy destressing!

My attempt at blogging...

For the past month or so I've enjoyed reading the daily blogs of a dear friend. As I read her thoughts and the life record she is keeping on-line, I think that perhaps I want to start my own blog to share thoughts and employ some of the creative writing skills that I believe I have. Afterall, I was an agricultural journalism major in college. I need to keep writing and goodness knows I need to get my thoughts out much more often than I do. So here is my attempt.

Although the "cheaperthantherapy" blog name was already reserved, I'm hopeful that this will be exactly that for me.

Don't get me wrong, my life is not extremely messed up, but we all need a little therapy once in a while. In fact, my life is probably pretty stable according to the standards. My hubby of 2.5 years and I live in a small town (pop. 1200). We both commute to other towns for work - he in city government and I for a Big Ten University. I have a loving family, hobbies, and a cute little cat named Ally. All this and the daily tasks that come with maintaining a household quite totally fill my days.

That brief explanation just scrapes the surface and I'm hoping to delve much deeper through my writings on this blog. I hope you will enjoy reading what I appreciate writing and come along with me as I tip toe, walk and leap through "Life's stepping stones."