Tonight we celebrated Grandpa's 71st birthday. I was feeling especially blessed that we were all there together to honor him. We missed you Liz! It puts it into perspective for me. Without his birth 71 years ago none of these beautiful children that call him Grandpa would be here. All 6 of the grand kids were there running around. It's a lot of fun to see them all interact and play together. They love their baby cousin, Elena, and she adores them. I am so excited for the relationships that they will forge over the years. I have dreamed of this moment at birthday celebrations past; that we would have a little love of our own in the mix. She is finally here and longing has been replaced with gratitude. It was loud and chaotic, but the good kind. The kind that means we love each other, we're having fun. And I'm not just talking about the kids.
Grandpa has always loved to remind us all to let dust be his destiny. He's come farther than he thought he would, always saying he'd never imagined he'd surpass his 65th birthday...which I believe is how old his father was when he died. It has always upset me to hear him reference not being in this physical life with us. I've already lost two parents and frankly, I don't want to lose anymore for a while. Naturally, a birthday brings thoughts of mortality as people age. I know in Grandpa's eyes he was wondering if this would be his last. The last time he'd hear Happy Birthday and blow out candles. The last time he'd read a birthday card from his sons. I think part of us all wondered that a bit this year.
Grandpa is facing surgery in two weeks to remove a tumor from his colon that they suspect is cancer. Just typing that sentence pisses me off. Seriously. I've had it with cancer, thankyouverymuch. So yeah, I think that's why Grandpa's mortality has been on all of our minds lately.
I wish I could capture and save the love affair that he and Elena have. It is so crisp and clear and it fills my heart to the brim. The thought of him not being here with her doesn't fly with me. They need more time together. Lots more time. There are so many things they've shared already in her short 7 months. Grandpa laughs at me because I take so many pictures. I try to capture them on camera as much as I can so that one day Paul and I can tell her how much her Grandpa loved and adored her.
Grandpa loves to sing to Elena. Half the songs I don't even know. Songs like, "How glad the many millions of Annabelles and Lillians..." and silly songs like "See Saw knock at the door, who's there? Grandpa. What does he want? A bottle of beer..." and "Elena Josephinaaaa don'ta leana ona the bella". He also says "Elena....do you want Grandpa to hit you?" He says it all the time and uses the back of his hand to ever-so-gently tap her chubby little cheek. It is a lot more endearing than it sounds.
He has lots of nicknames for her....Murphy, or "Hey Murph" but it really sounds like "Moiph" with his accent. Flanagan Face is another one. The kid is half Italian but she sure doesn't look it. Speaking of Italian, he loves to say "A face doya vadein" which is totally spelled wrong but means something along the lines of "That face." He calls her a beautiful creature, which I love because my mom always called me that and I know she'd say the same about Lainey. We can't forget, "What a prize package you got." And Grandpa isn't always right, but he sure is about that one.
We love his daily, impromptu visits and will miss them when we move to Ohio. Lola bounds to the door to get a treat. She gets more excited to see him that she does when Paul or I come home. She's no dope. And when we sit at the table to eat a meal together, you can find Lola scratching at Grandpa's leg. Like I said, she's no dope. We save him leftover pizza in the toaster because he doesn't like it refrigerated. We always have pretzel sticks because that's what he likes. He says he has to go for half the time he's there, but we never mind that he stays longer than he intends. He remembers jokes and stories from the old days like his mind is a steel trap. Sometimes he tells a story we've heard a hundred times but we listen and laugh like it was the first time we'd heard it. He's got some great stories from his Brooklyn days.
He's gotten sentimental over the years. He'd tell you so himself. If he knew I was writing about him he'd say verbatim, "I don't care what they say about you, Katie. You're all right." And then he'd tell me I was his meat with a hearty laugh. So tonight my wish is that next year I'll be writing a similar post about celebrating Grandpa on his 72nd birthday. Happy Birthday...We love you G'pa!
