Me, My Family

Heartache

My heart aches today.   Over the weekend, Saturday to be exact, a local 12-year-old girl went missing.  The story is that she was riding her bike in the afternoon and never returned home.  The searches had begun by that evening, candlelight vigils by Monday and the awful news this morning.  This young girls body was found in a  recycling container.

My heart aches for this family.  We do not know them but they are any all of us. They live just a few minutes away and this girls could have been any of our children.

You live in the suburbs believing that you are safe.  Yes you lock the doors, and at night you leave the front light on as if it will protect your family while you sleep.  As hard as we try, we can not keep our children 100% safe.

Tell them the truth, there are bad people out there.  Teach them as much as you can.  Love them, hug them, kiss them, be there and know what they are doing.  As my girls get older, I am finding this harder but it is my job.  I struggle to find the line between allowing them to stretch their wings and the realities of the world.  I want to wrap them in bubble wrap , keep them in my sight for ever.  But that is not possible.

A few minutes ago, police pulled her bike from a nearby house.  What a world.

I felt the need to update this post….an arrest has been made.  I am sick, two teenage brothers who want parts from her bike.  What in the hell are we becoming?  Here is the link.

Me, My Family

R.I.P Madeline

Just received news that my Grandmother died.  Sad.   I received the e-mail from my brother, simply stating “Grandmom passed last nite” with a copy of the obituary.  I guess to those who are thinking this seems like a cold way to find out I should put it into perspective.  I have not seen, talked to or had any real thoughts about this woman in over 15 years or more.  She is my father’s mother, and my father walked out on my family when I was about a year old.  He (and his many girlfriends and wives) was around a little when I was young but was basically gone by my teen years.  And when I say he was around, I mean a weekend here and there or the occasional day trip.  The financial support was even thinner. I believe the last time I even saw him was 1993 which was not a pleasant meeting and the first in many years.

I was much closer to my grandfather than my grandmother.  When I was old enough to drive (not really sure how old I was) my grandparents were living with my father not too far away.  My grandfather was ill having survived several heart attacks.  I would go to visit, have lunch and sit with him while he smoked and watch to make sure he did not burn the house down.  He was slipping badly at that point, at times forgetting who I was or where we were but in between we would have a good visit.  That is until I would realize that my grandmother was in the kitchen calling dear old dad to let him know I was there.  I would always have to keep an eye on my watch because I had absolutely no interest in seeing a man who had no interest in me growing up.

After my “Pop-pop” passed, I don’t think I saw her again.  I think I may have spoken to her a few times on the phone but never saw her.

Still sad.  The question I sit here with though is, is it sad because of her loss or because of the stirring of shit it brings back thinking about her, my father, my childhood?

I guess we can just leave it with goodbye Grandmom.

My grandparents holding a newborn me..1971.