Oh my God! After weeks and weeks of not being able to access my own blog from my own computer, all of a sudden here it is! And I can post! I’ve missed you, blog! I’ve missed you, bloggy friends! I don’t know what happened, but here is a post I was working on, before I found myself lost in the black hole of computer problems.
Every night it happens. I wake up. I’m aware of being uncomfortable. What is that? Sweat. Oh. My God. I’m sweating all over. My thighs are sweating, my back is sweating, my neck is dripping wet. The bottom of my feet are even sweaty.
I throw off the covers. I get up. I have to pee anyway. I wash my face with cold water at the sink. I remove my sweat soaked clothes and find something dry to put on. I turn on the overhead fan. I go into the kitchen for a glass of ice water. Then I slip back into bed.
I lie there, uncovered, and let the fan blow over me. I sip my water. I listen to the news commentators on the TV. I listen to my husband’s faint snoring.
The clock says 3:10 am. I wonder how long it will take me to fall back asleep? On a good night, it may take 30 minutes. On a bad night, I finally fall asleep, minutes before the alarm clock beeps at 5:00 am. Some nights, I don’t sleep at all.
And while I lie there, I wonder what happened.
Oh, I know what happened. I’m almost 53 years old, and I just had a hot flash. Duh. In a few minutes, I’ll probably have a cold flash, which will cause me to suddenly shiver violently, get up to turn off the fan, throw on a sweatshirt and pull the covers up to my ears (or over my head entirely). If I manage to get warm, I might fall asleep, which will last only until my body realizes it’s too warm and another sweaty hot flash wakes me up to start the whole damn cycle all over again.
No, what I wonder, while I lie there in various stages of fluctuating misery, is, what happened to me.
How did little Ginger, who was cute and blond and taken care of, become old Ginger, who is wrinkled and gray and tries to take care of everyone else? How did Gladys Parker’s first granddaughter become a grandmother, herself? How did Joyce’s little baby doll turn into a mother, and now, a grandmother with babies of my own to dress?
See? I was cute. I was young. I had a grandmother that adored me. I was her first grandchild, and I think, like me, she had been waiting all her life to take on that role. I had a young mother, who was probably wondering how she had become somebody’s mother. And I swear, y’all, it was just a few years ago. Like, maybe 15 years ago. That”s what it seems like to me, anyways. It could not have been 50 years ago that this photo was taken.
Where in the heck did the last 50 years go?
A few years went by and I became a mother. I made my mother, Joyce, a grandmother for the first time. Here she is with my firstborn son, Kyle.
The years spent raising my boys are a blur. The three of them grew up to become such handsome young men.
And now, my youngest is in college earning a degree in physics. My middle son is in a state hundreds of miles from me, raising his own precious, blond haired, blue-eyed daughter.
Only my oldest, Kyle, is still nearby, although it is uncertain if that will last much longer.
Kyle’s son, Kole, is so much like he was. Here he is, looking on the mirror with my husband, his Pops. Can you see the resemblance to his daddy in this photo?
I know I’m going to wake up in a few years and wonder how I became a great grandmother. Time flies by as these photos show. Here is how my mother, Joyce, and I look today, with our grandson.
If only my grandmother, Gladys, could still be here to see her little grand daughter being someone’s grandmother.
I’m still not sure how any of this happened, but I think my grandmama would cheer me on.
And then she’d tell me to stop being silly and get back to sleep.