#my great grandma maternal side kept talking about how good some of it was and no matter what you said you couldn't change her mind

[echobx]

Oh yeah lilah posted for Israel but Elaine still follows her and the Val director person is also pro Israel

see, this is why I always say not to stan anybody. but I also never let my vibes fool me. fucked up honestly how so many people choose to stand on the wrong side of history 😭😭😭

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 6

Hannibal sits in on a regular conversation between y/n and her family. Y/n insists it could have gone worse.

⚠️Bigass trigger warning⚠️: Verbal abuse, emotional manipulation, blood, mention of alcohol abuse and suicide

Anna lived her life believing that she was the main character, constantly denying personhood to everyone around her. She was the romantic hero, and everyone else existed to forward her plot.

This metaphor was imperfect, however, because in all the books you'd read, the main character must overcome some kind of challenge. Nobody ever said no to Anna. Nobody ever criticized Anna. Nobody but you. So you were pigeonholed into the role of antagonist for it. You had to give her credit; growing up on the receiving end of her and Theresa's torture was a compelling villain origin story.

It was obvious that she only wanted you at her wedding to present her with an obstacle. Heaven forbid her story progress without some semblance of petty drama out of her control. She'd cornered you into a painful catch-22; you wanted vengeance, but you couldn't give her the satisfaction of having her special day ruined. What was your play? Ruin it just a little? Walk away?

These thoughts passed through your mind as you sat through the boring ceremony. You wanted to lean over and whisper everything to Hannibal, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. The vows seemed to drag on forever. Liam's English accent grated on your ears and you wished that he would just shut the hell up.

The ceremony concluded and you hoped to skip out on the reception with a purse full of mini cannolis, but fate had other plans. In a last-minute reach for some kind of scene, the blushing bride waved you over to the head table.

"[F/N]!" Anna shouted, with a big smile across her face. "Come on!"

You fought the urge to feel endeared by this. She looked too happy to be harmful. Your guard was all the way up as you and Hannibal approached the table.

Hannibal pulled a seat out for you while you studied Anna's expression. She fixed her doe eyes on Hannibal. You knew from experience that Anna had the same powerlust as grandma and Theresa. She was just better at keeping a lid on it.

"[F/N], you remember Liam?" Anna said, her voice brimming with excitement.

"Yeah." You nodded, scooting your chair up. "Nice to see you again, Liam."

"Good to see you again, too [F/N]."

"Liam is from Birmingham." She bragged, her smile somehow growing wider.

"Alabama?" You piped up before taking a drink from your water glass.

Every time you were forced to interact with Liam, she reminded you that the man with the strong and unmistakable English accent, was in fact from England. And every time, you slipped in the Alabama comment. It was never not funny.

"Liam, Anna," you said. "This is my fiance, Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

"Many congratulations to you two." Hannibal offered.

"Dr. Lecter, thank you so much for coming." Anna returned. "And thank you for taking such good care of our precious [F/N]. I hope she's not giving you too much trouble. She was quite a handful growing up, but we made it work."

"Don't flatter yourself, you're only four years older than me." You hide your passive-aggressive jab beneath a smile. "You can't take credit for a job you didn't do."

Grandma always thought Anna's protective, borderline maternal behavior towards you was adorable. Of course, it disgusted you. You were little more than an accessory to her. A baby doll she could simulate motherhood with. But, in fairness to her, that was all you were to the adult in the house too. Monkey see, monkey do.

"So have you two set a date yet?" Grandma interrupted your thoughts, just trying to keep the tension down.

"Goodness, no." Hannibal answered. "Ours is a long-term engagement."

"Yeah." You added. "Not until I finish school."

"Well, it's not my fault you aren't expected to graduate on time." Grandma said into her wine.

You tightened your grip on your water glass. "Well, changing your major halfway through will do that."

"I'm just saying," Grandma continued. Whenever she was 'just saying' anything, you knew she was raring to stir things up. "If you had just stayed the engineering track, you wouldn't have to keep Hannibal waiting."

"Well!" Anna cut in, offended that the attention was off her for more than a minute. "Liam and I waited until after college."

"Yes, Anna," Grandma said dismissively, before turning back to you. "Y'know, Dr. Lecter here could probably tell you that psychologically speaking, women are more likely to drop out of college and become strippers when they change their majors?"

Now it was Hannibal's turn to down his entire glass of wine. "Ms. [L/N], where did you get that information?"

"Oh, it was an article I found on Facebook." Grandma answered. "I'll have [F/N] send you a link."

"Ms. [L/N]," Hannibal cleared his throat. "Are you familiar with the concept of misinformation?"

"Of course." She looked offended at the implication that she could possibly not know something.

"See, social media websites like Facebook are inundated with misinformation campaigns." Hannibal explained. "Your claim is not rooted in any psychological fact."

"Yeah, also," You cut in. You scanned the area for escape routes if your attempt to change the subject went awry. "There's a wonderful documentary about how Facebook misinformation campaigns targeted rural counties in England leading up to the Brexit vote."

"Oh, we have a funny story about Brexit." Anna interrupted, taking the bait, hook line and sinker.

Before she could recount the same boring anecdote about being at some regional chain restaurant when the vote was cast, Theresa and her husband joined the table.

"Sorry we're late," Theresa sat down. "Damage control is a twenty-four hour job. What were we talking about?"

"Misinformation." Liam said.

"Perfect timing." You muttered.

"Finally, all three of my girls are together again." Grandma threw her head back and rejoiced. "When was the last time we all got together? Just us four girls, huh?"

"Remember the day before prom, we all went out go get manicures?" Anna reminisced. "And we took pictures of us all dressed up?"

"Oh I remember." You scanned the area for any alcohol to ingest.

"Oh, this is so funny." Grandma laughed hysterically. "Dr. Lecter, did you hear this story? [F/N] went to the prom with a boy who had all along been using her to get close to Theresa! They got together that night! Dated for two whole years after that."

"I've heard an iteration of it." He said, looking over his shoulder. He flagged down a waiter who was holding a bottle of champagne. "Leave the bottle, please."

"Don't drink too much, [F/N]." Anna scolded. "Save some alcohol for the rest of us."

You made sure to maintain eye contact with her as you filled your flute to capacity. "Grandma's paying, isn't she?"

"Anna, baby," Grandma said, rubbing her temples. "It's fine. Let [F/N] drink herself silly. It's a party, right?"

"Wow," Theresa sneered. You knew exactly what she was going to say next. "Like mother, like daughter."

Everyone at the table had enough decorum to recognize that Theresa went too far. You crushed the champagne flute in your grip, letting shards of glass dig into your skin. You glared at Theresa, blood oozing from your palm and dripping onto the white tablecloth.

Wordlessly, Hannibal removed the offending glass from your hand and swaddled the affected area in a napkin. He put pressure on the cut, letting the blood absorb into the cloth.

"Is this the famed '[L/N] woman telepathy'?" Liam whispered to Anna.

"No, [F/N] is just mad because her mother was a drunk who killed herself." Anna thought she was being inconspicuous.

"This has been fun." You stand up from the table. "Really. Great way to spend a Saturday."

"[F/N], sit down..." Grandma ordered, sounding exhausted. "You know Theresa didn't mean that."

"No." You said, each syllable out of her mouth pushing you a step closer to your breaking point. "Y'know what? No. I don't have to put up with this anymore. Anna, congratulations. I hope you and Liam have many long years together."

You turned around to exit as quietly as you could, Hannibal at your side. Your grandmother, who somehow hadn't hit her daily allotted dose of confrontation, wouldn't have it.

"Dr. Lecter, tell [F/N] she's being unreasonable." Grandma pleaded.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. In his long-spanning career, he'd never once met a person as tone-deaf as Beatrice [L/N]. He kept his quiet composure as he slowly approached the table.

"Beatrice," he said, beckoning her to lean in. He whispered something into her ear that left her stunned and quaking.

You could hear your grandmother's hysterical sobs growing softer as Hannibal hurried you out.

"Keep pressure on that cut, love." He instructed, talking over the increasingly loud shouts of agony from the head table. "You'll need a few stitches."

Once you were far enough from the venue, you had to ask. "What on earth did you say to her?"

"Nothing that you don't already know." He answered, facing forward.

[possessedbyadisease]

The people who's deaths affected me greatly:

- Monty Oum: ive been a huge fan of his since watching Dead Fantasy. The way he animated fight scenes was so unique and exciting. And I loved watching his ddr videos. He was the reason I got to meet some online friends that i still consider to be close. People that loved the things that I loved, people that I could confide in about things that I normally couldn't my irl friends. When he died, it felt so surreal. I remember being in a college class, and not being able to concentrate. My friend, who had talked to him more often than I did, was even more so affected.

- my best friend from college: I remember asking her a question in a biology class, and that essentially put us on the path to becoming good friends. I was with her when she needed an oil change for her first car. Prior to her death, she was supposed to get married. My one regret was allowing my mental health at the time take over to the point I stopped hanging out with friends, including her. I wish I could have been with her for the last time.

- my maternal grandpa: I wont lie.....I wasn't as sad about my grandpa's death initially, but that's mostly because we had never met in person. Our first and last meeting was on Skype, when my family in the Philippines managed to come up with enough money to afford a computer and internet. The moment he saw my face, as well as my mom's, he cried. It had been 20 years since he last saw his daughter, and the first time seeing me. The thing that made me sad about his death was that we would never be able to meet in real life. I've always had.....complicated feelings towards my family (mostly on the paternal side) but with my maternal grandparents, even tho I never really got to grow up with them, I felt.....loved. and cherished by them. When I traveled to the PH for the first time, to view his grave, my maternal grandma treated me with such love and care, that I didn't know how to feel. She didn't judge me, nor looked down on me.....she made me food, and gave me a Lei of sampaguita. She made me feel special. She was like those grandmas you see on TV, who would bake you cookies and sing you a lullaby. I reckoned had my grandpa still lived, he would have done the same.

Chadwick Boseman: this was a death that affected many greatly. His portrayal of Black Panther was unique, and special. He was a strong and diligent leader, but also empathetic and kind. His performance at the end of Civil War, in particular, stuck with me; his speech about Vengeance towards Baron Zemo struck a cord with me.

I remember prior to his death being concerned at how skinny he had become in interviews. People would make fun of him and make jokes that he's doing drugs or something; not realizing he was very, very sick, and growing weaker as the days went by. The day he died, I didn't think I would be affected; but I was. I cried a lot for this man, who kept his illness a secret for so long from the public, just so he can take on a role that would mean so much to many people; especially little boys and girls of color. It hurts to see this man die so soon, someone who was looked up to by so many kids; kids who saw something in him that was also present within them.

Billy Kametz: prior to learning about Billy, I had already unknowingly heard his voice in many anime roles: Josuke, Naofumi, etc., but it was Ferdinand von Aegir in Fire Emblem: Three Houses where I first heard his name. He, alongside the entire voice cast of FE3H, brought a lot of joy and comfort to me during the three years of this pandemic. The game was the 1st game I bought with the last paycheck I got from my job before they laid me off. I spent days upon days playing and replaying that game. There were days when the uncertainty of real life would cause me great distress; but every time I heard the words "I am Ferdinand von Aegir!!" It would make me laugh out loud, and then, it would make me smile. In that moment, i was Ferdinand von Aegir; a noble knight on a horse, proud and strong, and I'd forget a little about how shitty the world has become.

When Billy announced his cancer not too long ago, I immediately thought back to Chadwick; I thought, "oh no. Not again. This can't be happening again." It doesn't help that it was the same type of cancer that took Chadwick. I was scared again. I didn't know these people personally, but i was afraid for him. Watching Billy's video talking about his diagnosis, seeing how skinny he had become in such a short span of months......this world is just too cruel.

Today, I learned on twitter that he passed away. I cried a lot, for a person I never met in person. I have a streamily print featuring Ferdinand and Hubert at tea time, autographed by both Billy and Robbie Daymond. I was hoping one day, once I own my own house with its own reception/living room, I would turn it into a tea or coffee room, and then I would hang that poster up, for all the guests to see. I still plan on doing that someday......but for now, I think I want to hang it up in my room, so that I can remember, that someone so talented and so loved by a wonderful community existed.

FYI, this post doesn't really have.....a specific purpose. With how today went, I just wanted to vent a little. Death is suppose to be a natural part of the circle of life, but it's also the one that hurts most. Once someone is gone, they're gone for good. No more text messages, no more impromptu trips to In-N-Out with them.......family gatherings have an empty void where they once stood. The squeaky toy your favorite pet used to play with, is still stuck under the shed, gathering dust, and cobwebs, and dissolving from the weather. Movies, and shows don't feel, or sound, the same. Weddings, birthday parties, graduations suddenly become a memorial.

Admittedly, it gets better with time; but there will always be moments in our lives, where a memory, or an image of someone we love appears in our minds, and we can't help but break down and cry, even years later. Despite all that, we're forced to wipe our tears and keep moving forward, as best as we can; if not for our sake, then for the people we still have in this world, as well as for the sake of the loved ones we lost, who would have wanted us to keep going.

I don't know how best to end this post except: please, hold your loved ones close.

[bulletballet-arch]

The Revised [ Full ] History of Eve in Picture Perfect

( until I decide to tweak and edit it some more )

In this verse, Eve’s mother Linda would reside in Brooklyn for three years after the death of her husband, William Littlejohn, his brother Malcolm, and Malcolm’s wife Yvette. Initially, she stays in Brooklyn simply because she feels she is supposed to. Her in-laws, Amos and Liza, want to observe her. Similarly, Linda’s parents want to ensure she is fine after narrowly facing death. Haunted by the massacre, Linda suffers from survivor’s syndrome, but she is never allowed to vocalize the pain felt. In the midst of secretly attending therapy sessions ( while Eve is taken care of by her Grandma Evelyn and Papa Giuseppe ) Linda finds that her lifestyle is stagnant. She feels as though she is a woman who does whatever someone else wants. Therefore, Linda decides to move to Manhattan with the five-year-old Eve in tow. They live in a luxurious apartment and Linda makes her living as a secretary on Wall Street while Eve attends ballet classes.

Linda didn’t have to be a secretary, as the Littlejohns (and her father) provided her with money, but she liked working. It kept her mind off things. Sometimes things would feel great until people asked her was her husband the late William Littlejohn. In time, Linda gets a boyfriend who is a stockbroker. He’s white, he’s a recent divorcee and because she worked so closely with him, Linda knew it would be unprofessional to date him. But she thought to herself, ‘this is my decision. It’s okay because I have some control.’ The idea of control was a myth, though. She became his arm candy, similar to what happened within the Littlejohn Family when she initially became linked with William.

Linda could not complain too much, though. Because her new lover was good to Eve. The overall excellent dynamic caused them to get married. Their marriage lasts for four years. Eve is eight years old when they divorce. It’s a divorce that’s long. Messy. He was going to jail for a pyramid scheme was a part of and Linda didn’t want to stand by him. After the divorce - and the trial - Linda decides she could use a break. She decides that she and Eve should leave the country for a little while. Because why not? She has the money. The first country they go to is England, staying in London.

It was supposed to be a month-long vacation, but she kept putting off returning home. She didn’t want to house hunt back in New York, she didn’t want to be identified with a scandal, she didn’t want to see any family. So they began living in London. When Eve is nine years old, Linda would decide to go to South Africa. Eve experienced cities such as Durban, Ghana, Cape Town. While Linda was really in Africa to become more connected to her ancestors, all and all, she thought the experience would be good for Eve. Her baby girl could have a lot of memories of different buildings, landscapes, cultures. And, this exposure did make Eve happy, however, she had no stable school life or friendships. So on a social level, Eve was miserable. She also tried having pen pals, but that only worked for so long before both parties ceased writing one another.  Eve did feel at home when she was in New York with her extended family during holidays like Christmas. Eve’s maternal grandparents wanted her to live with them, but her mother refused it. Eve has a vivid memory seated in the back of a taxi, crying because she didn’t want to go to the airport. And as for Linda - well, she would never notice this, but whenever she was deeply distressed, her mental desire was to just keep moving.

When Eve was fifteen years old, her mother fell in love with a highly esteemed professor from the University of Cape Town. This would be her mother’s third significant relationship. They all began living together and he begins an inappropriate relationship with Eve. It’s all an act of grooming that Eve isn’t aware of. Linda catches on to it and calls out her boyfriend for his behavior. However, he is offended by the accusations. He moves out, but he still contacts Eve through phone calls and  even picks her up from school at one point without her mother’s consent. Eve remembers her mother always asking her questions, ‘did he touch you?’ ‘What did he do to you?’ Eve was overwhelmed, as she felt her mother didn’t believe her. It caused Eve to give her the silent treatment, which in turn caused Linda to decide to move again. This time, they would leave Africa to live in Europe - France, specifically.

In France, the two moved twice. First to Paris then to Lyon. Eve liked Lyon more than Paris, but was much too stubborn to admit it. Part of Eve was worried that if she was open about her love, then her mother would want to move somewhere else. She attended college with a focus on art conservation. Ultimately, she did not fully complete her apprenticeship because she would meet Alexandre DuBois, a con artist she fell in love with.

He did not expose his true nature to her at first, but she began questioning the source of the jewelry he was continuously giving her. When she reached the conclusion that he was a criminal of some sort, Alexandre kept insisting that it wasn’t as much of an issue that she was making it out to be. To prove this he wanted Eve to come with him to a job wanting Eve to participate as well. Eve declined, she wasn’t trying to get in any legal trouble. However, Alexandre said he didn’t like boring women. Offended, she agreed.  He slicked down his hair so it could appear straight. Wore his best suit. Meanwhile, he instructed Eve to dress as though she was going to attend the most extravagant party. When they stood side by side, Alexandre was looking like a wealthy white man with a young, black mistress. The trick, Alexandre told her, was to always act as though you belong. For days Eve waited for consequences. For the police to knock at her door. Something. It didn’t happen. She told herself never again, but she got addicted to stealing with Alexandre, as it became an adrenaline rush.

Eventually, Eve and Alexandre were apprehended by law enforcement. Linda bailed Eve out and told her that if she was not going to continue reaching for her career goals then she would send her to America. Eve would fight back, insisting that she was an adult, so she doesn’t have to go to America just because she said so. Linda then has enough and states that since Eve is a young adult, she can live with Alexandre.  The relationship that would progress between Eve and Alexandre was not without its faults. Even when Eve moved in with him, Alexandre was cheating on her discreetly. He had his alternate hookups and one-night stands, with Eve simply being his main girlfriend. When women smugly confronted Eve of how Alexandre was nothing but a womanizer and she was his latest victim, she fought for the sheer integrity of his name. Behind closed doors, when Eve confronted Alexandre about his inability to be monogamous: he blackened her eye.

The relationship comes to an end when Alexandre gains access to an elite party. During their fumbled job, they would be acknowledged by someone who would be very influential in Eve’s future, Gisella Agostini of the Corsican Mafia. The two would leave the scene in shame, fiercely arguing in the car about who messed up. Eve brings up how he’s a liar and manipulator, only for Alexandre  to rip the pearls from her neck and kick her out his car. She had to find her way back to safety in the dark of the night.

While Alexandre and Eve are separated, the Agostini family does research on the two. They see that Alexandre has a long history of theft, and even a previous murder charge, while Eve just seems to be a college student who got caught up in the thrill of crime. First, Alexandre is snatched off the street by Agostini goons. In what he deemed as an act of self-preservation, he sells Eve out, claiming it was her idea.

When Eve is abducted by the crime family, Gisella confronts her directly. The old woman states that she could fix everything and spare her from her ‘husband’s wrath.’ But the truth is, Gisella’s husband doesn’t do anything in the crime family any longer due to his age and illnesses, but Gisella uses him as a ‘front’ to reign.  Eve ends up working for the crime family,  and in little moments, she ever so gradually speculates she is in the midst of a female mob boss. As the months go along, Eve’s mother wants to make amends but Eve doesn’t want her mother to know she is now gang-affiliated. Eve is very afraid for her life. This leads to more mother-daughter tension due to the lack of communication.  

As the years pass on, Gisella is progressively attached to Eve. This is reflective of how she has her own passion for the world and the diverse people who live in it (especially those of the African diaspora.) In turn, Eve initially grows to feel like she’s a part of some sort of stable family. Ultimately, their relationship gradually becomes overbearing and toxic. Eve is literally feeling like she’s owned and controlled by an old white woman. Therefore, Eve distances herself from dealing with Gisella personally because it was too much. However, Eve continued working for the crime family in regards to assassinations and heists, but she was not eating at Gisella’s home for dinner or talking over tea. Eve decides to make amends with Gisella by the time she is 31. Little did she know, the woman was on her death bed at this point. They were kind to one another and Gisella lets Eve know she can do whatever she wants now. Later that week, the old woman would die. While Gisella’s death comes as a shock - Eve was also feeling relieved. Afterward, Eve has mild conflict with Gisella’s nephew who feels like she should not be leaving the crime family, but Eve insists Gisella harbored no ill will towards her and wanted her to do whatever she wanted. So, she’s leaving.

Eve relocates to New York to begin a new, stable life. It’s what she wants. It’s what she needs. Or so she thinks. She thought New York would have her feel at home and content as it did when she was a child, but she didn't feel this way at all. She felt like a stranger among her family, like a guest or something.  Eve proceeds to sell the art she makes for a living and gains recognition from it. Admittedly, she’s bored with a quiet life. It is entering a relationship with Salvatore Scozzari that sparks her passion for crime, although he would much rather her marry him and live a quiet but glamorous life. But in the end? Eve can’t do it. Breaking up with Sal by claiming she’ll be working at a gallery in California, she travels to another state. Her life as a thief starting up a second time.

[ourimpavidheroine]

Okay, @peoniequeen, here are your stories.

How many people do you know moved across the world for love? 

Well, you all know about this one. I met my late wife online in late 1998 on an X-Files message board, we emailed and then called, etc. until she came to the U.S. from Finland in September of 1999 to live with me for a year. After the year was up we relocated to Finland, in part because she could not legally immigrate to the U.S. during that time as a same-sex partner (Finland was a huge fucking pain in the ass about it but eventually they let me immigrate there based on our relationship status) and in part because we thought Finland would be a better place to raise kids due to healthcare, schools, etc. When I arrived in Finland it was the first time I had even been to Europe, never mind the country I was going to live in and the airline accidently left my two dogs in Amsterdam instead of putting them on the plane to Helsinki and I spent my first moments in my new home sobbing about my dogs until the very nice airline lady called for my late wife over the loudspeaker and let her come back and take me in hand (much the way Mako takes Wu in hand, if you must know). (Don’t worry, the airline put us up in a hotel next to the airport and the dogs came on the next flight and came to us there in a taxi the airline made arrangements for. They were completely fine and in fact weren’t sure what the fuss was about.) It was kind of a big culture shock. The end.

Or worked as a college radio DJ? 

I did! I had a show on Tuesday mornings from 4-6 am that nobody listened to but about 10 loyal people. (Kind of like my blog here, come to think about it.) I played a lot of old blues and jazz stuff that I’d grown up listening to. My Dad worked part time as a DJ at a local radio station so I knew how to work all the equipment and such thanks to him. (I also had a two hour slot on Wednesday nights there in high school where I played stuff teenagers wanted to listen to and not the never ending country western that the station owner and manager wanted played 24x7.) Yes, this was in the late 80′s-early 90′s when I was at university so it was all vinyl. I still have a collection of albums that have the gold stamp on them saying they are not for sale, that they are for radio station play only! (Some of them the aforementioned station manager gave me since they were not country and he was basically going to toss them into the trash and some of them were albums that I might have gotten through less altruistic means.)

Or was a makeup assistant to Drag Queens? 

I took a stage makeup course while I was majoring in theater at University and did so well with it that the guy who gave the class asked me to come and assist him at the San Francisco opera while they were essentially painting all of the singers brown in a classic racist move that was pretty well accepted in the 90′s but, thankfully, would be extremely frowned upon now. As I was doing it I struck up a friendship with one of the chorus tenors; it turned out he was a drag queen who sometimes did performances when he wasn’t doing opera. He was a Madonna impersonator (not a very good one, sorry to say) and he wanted me to help him design his makeup for it. So I went to the club he performed at a few times to get a better feel for how drag queens worked and then hung around backstage and ended up doing some designs for some of the other queens. The pay was basically me getting to see their performances for free and getting fed afterwards at whatever was open at 4 am but God it was fun. Also, now I am the most Judgy McJudgerson of ever when it comes to drag makeup on RuPaul’s Drag Race. The end.

Or wrote a letter to their Archbishop when they were twelve and got a personal answer in return? 

I was very put out by the fact that boys could be altar boys but girls got shit (I was Catholic, in case you haven’t guessed) and I was talking about it to my Grandma one time and she told me I should write a letter to the Archbishop and ask him why. Now see, my maternal Grandmother was married to a labor union president (my grandfather was still the president when he died of a heart attack when I was 8) and she was a good old fashioned liberal rabble rouser. Like, she got arrested with nuns protesting nuclear power plants in her muumuus and Birkenstocks, okay? She wrote letters to EVERYONE. So I sat down and very carefully wrote the letter and my Grandma made a few calls and got me the address and we sent the letter. I don’t think my Grandma actually thought I’d get a letter back (it was more of a teaching moment, if that makes sense) but he did send me a letter back! He was very kind, although his answer was the usual Catholic BS. I still have the letter but it is packed away in storage so I very sadly will not be producing it at this juncture in time.

Or drove from Los Angeles to Philadelphia in a 20 year old Volvo? 

My friend from university was going to Grad School at Temple University and her parents didn’t want her to drive the entire way by herself. So I drove with her in an orange 1971 Volvo sedan. (In fact, I drove about 90% of the trip because she didn’t like driving.) The air conditioning fan died as we were driving through the Mojave Desert on the way to Vegas and I realized that if I floored it the cool air would actually move itself and so I floored it all the way through the desert and we are lucky that fucking ancient hulk of Swedish steel did not die and leave us stranded to be baked to death. We stopped in Vegas (which was not as impressive in 1992 as it is today, trust me) and found a guy who could actually fix the fan and spent the night in one of the casino hotels before continuing on. We did stop in Chicago to stay with her grandparents for two weeks (where so many elderly Jews kept responding to my last name with confusion as they assumed I was Jewish that I eventually started to do genealogy and found out that I am, indeed, Jewish on my father’s side) and also we saw the original Buffy the Vampire Slayer film in Des Moines and went to a cowboy bar in Cheyenne (I learned how to line dance and my friend got completely trashed and I had to practically carry her back to the hotel) and many other adventures until we finally arrived in Philly and her parents flew me back to California. It was a great road trip and short of the reeeaaaally sketchy and filthy motel room in Salt Lake City that had both a half-empty Chinese takeout box and a soiled condom under the bed we had a grand time.

Or was part of a thruple? 

I have been part of two thruples. Well. Sort of. One thruple and one wanna be thruple. The first one, with my first husband and my girlfriend was a huge mistake from the get-go. (Oh god, she was so hot and the sex was so fucking good but she was really an awful person and my ex kept trying to control the entire thing and basically forced her into living with us instead of being just my girlfriend with benefits and the entire thing blew up and while it wasn’t the reason why I divorced him it didn’t help either.) The second one was with my late wife and our mutual boyfriend and it worked very well but he had a little boy from a former relationship and his son got very ill and died and he didn’t handle it at all and he disappeared out of our lives. It’s been 20 years, give or take, since I’ve talked to him. He asked us to no longer contact him and I’ve always respected that. And before you ask, he knows where I live and my email address is the same as it was all those years ago. If he wanted to find me it would be very easy for him to do so. He clearly doesn’t and I respect that. I wish him love and peace, wherever he is. I miss him still.

Or beat up the drunk lady in the hallway to get back a little girl’s keys?

Ah, I’ll tell this one tomorrow.

[megalony]

Home

This is a new dad! Ben Hardy imagine I came up with which is like my other imagine Maternal. I hope you all like it, I will be doing follow up parts for this imagine.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse

Maternal

Ben Hardy masterlist

Enjoy.

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"What time's daddy coming?"

(Y/n) looked down at the four-year-old who was clinging onto her trouser leg as she rocked back and forth on her small heels. Waiting very impatiently for an answer that she deemed appropriate. Her small eyes were wide with anticipation as she couldn't sit still, especially now that she knew Ben was coming round.

"You asked me that two minutes ago and the answer is still the same. He'll be here in twenty minutes, so you go and make sure you've got everything ready." (Y/n) couldn't give Goldie the answer she was searching for which was that Ben would be here now.

The little girl didn't seem to hold any patience within her and as soon as she heard that Ben was coming round she seemed to burst with energy and couldn't stop asking when he would arrive. She hadn't seen him for a week now and she was getting desperate to see him. Now he was going to be here, time seemed to have stopped for Goldie and she was stuck feeling like it had been hours when it had only been two minutes since she asked when Ben would be here.

With a huff, Goldie spun around on her heels and drifted out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs.

Turning her head, the smile disappeared from (Y/n)'s lips in an instant when her mother walked into the room. The usual displeased look on her face whenever Ben was mentioned.

(Y/n) knew her mother didn't disapprove of Ben because he was some kind of bad influence. There was nothing about Ben that her mother could dislike him for and there was nothing bad she could say about him because he was a good guy. It was the fact that he was with (Y/n) that her mother didn't like. And the fact that Goldie called him her dad when he biologically wasn't, but Goldie didn't know that. As far as the four-year-old knew, Ben was her dad and that was how they all wanted it to be.

"What's wrong?" (Y/n) spoke in a tired and ever so slightly annoyed tone as she leaned against the kitchen counter. Looking at her mother who began to make herself a cup of coffee as she tried to act like nothing was wrong but there was a storm brewing behind her eyes.

"You know what's wrong. You moving in with him today and you let Goldie believe he is her father when he isn't."

"The other option being what, exactly? Live here with you and pretend I'm still sixteen? You and I both know the only problem you have with Ben is that you think he's stealing us away." (Y/n) knew how her words sounded, she knew that she seemed like she was an ungrateful daughter or that she was always this cold and rude to her mother. But the truth was she was done being the kind, quiet, shy daughter. It was too hard to grow up whilst living with her mother who seemed to smother her and act like she was a child.

(Y/n)'s elder sister had moved out and their mum, Katie, had taken that rather hard. It had been even harder when (Y/n)'s other elder sister had left too, but Katie still had (Y/n). She didn't like any of them growing up because whenever someone grew up it was as if they had a new life, they moved out, they got their own homes and families and were independent.

A life living with her mother who treated her like she was a child was not something (Y/n) had wanted but when she was eighteen she had Goldie and she needed the extra help. It was hard to have a job and care for Goldie on her own so staying at home was easier because her mother could help look after Goldie. And it was less to pay for rent at home than getting a place of her own. (Y/n) was also diabetic so she needed her mother's help caring for Goldie when she wasn't well or couldn't cope.

But when Ben came into the picture Katie was not so happy.

He was older than (Y/n) so that put Katie off right from the beginning, but he was different. He was already independent and he was kind and caring and showed (Y/n) the things she wanted from life.

Goldie was only one when (Y/n) started to date Ben and her real father hadn't been in the picture since he found out about her. So to Goldie Ben was the father figure she didn't have and she simply assumed he was her dad, something Ben was more than happy to indulge her with and let her believe. Ben loved Goldie as if she was his own anyway so in every aspect but biological he was her dad.

Now (Y/n) and Ben had gotten a place of their own and that meant (Y/n) was moving out which she had only done once and it was only for a few months. She had moved in with Ben last year in his apartment but that was after an altercation with her mother and Ben had gone to location for a movie not long after. When her diabetes had gotten out of hand and made her ill (Y/n) had no choice but to go back to staying with her mother again because Ben wasn't there to help and she was very ill. But they had bought a house together this time around and he wasn't leaving for work for at least a month or two.

"And you think you'll be okay when he trots off for another three months to work away?"

"I think I'll have to be. I want a life of my own, mum." (Y/n) could never seem to stress enough to her mother how much a life of her own meant to her.

It meant that she could make her own decisions, it meant she could go home after work and be somewhere she felt was truly hers and truly home. Somewhere that she had decorated or just somewhere with her own bedroom and bathroom and kitchen that was hers and not somewhere she felt like she was simply a lodger who somehow was still out of place.

Home was a place (Y/n) could bring Goldie up without having her mother criticising her every move or trying to take over looking after Goldie. It was a home for Goldie where she could bring friends round and say she lived with her mum and dad, not her mum and grandma. Home was somewhere that (Y/n) could feel like she was her own person, that she was an adult, a mother and just herself with Goldie and Ben.

Home wasn't here anymore and this wasn't the life she wanted to live.

(Y/n) didn't want her mother treating her like an invalid who could do nothing for herself. She acted like (Y/n) was either a child or like she was dying and needed constant care and supervision or as if she was always going to do something wrong when she wasn't.

"You have a life (Y/n), you live here with Goldie, you have a steady job-"

"I mean a life that I decide and create, not the one you make for me. When I moved in with Ben before it felt great, it felt so much better but when I got ill you tutted at me and said it was my fault and I couldn't look after myself. You stormed in and took over, just like you always do. You try and do everything for me and act like I'm ill when I'm not and then you tell me I would never survive without you. I want to be with Ben and I'm allowed to make mistakes."

(Y/n) had cried so many times when her mother told her she would never be able to care for herself let alone Goldie if she didn't have her mother there by her side. She made (Y/n) feel like she was useless and needed a carer for the rest of her life. But when she was with Ben it was as if she was a normal person, she wasn't at fault for anything, she wasn't doing anything wrong and she was doing everything to the best of her ability.

(Y/n) couldn't help but sigh in relief when there was a knock at the door that stopped Katie from giving (Y/n) either a lecture or trying to talk her out of leaving.

Half of her and Goldie's things had already been moved to their new house anyway, they only had a few more boxes here that had to go and tonight was going to be their first night in their new home. (Y/n) wasn't delaying this for anything nor was she listening to her mother try and talk her out of this any more than she already had.

Turning on her heels, (Y/n) quickly walked down the hallway to reach the front door, opening it as she heard Goldie bounding out of her room upon hearing the door.

(Y/n) buried her head in Ben's neck the moment he picked her up after she let him inside. Ben had moved most of his things to the new house just before he left for work last week and it had been just over a week since (Y/n) had seen him which felt like a lifetime whilst she was stuck here with her mother.

"Miss me?" Ben whispered quietly in her ear, his eyes drifting over to see her mother standing unamused in the hallway before he looked up to see Goldie bounding down the stairs.

"Daddy's back!"

Ben unravelled his arms from (Y/n)'s waist, quickly kissing her before he reached out for Goldie who almost went flying the moment she reached the bottom of the stairs.

Reaching out, Ben quickly scooped Goldie up into his arms causing her to squeal. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck to the point Ben thought he wasn't going to be able to breathe but the moment she kissed his cheek the thought of breathing disappeared from his mind as he felt lighter than air.

"There's my girl." Ben leaned his head against her own as he kissed her temple, setting her on his hip although he could feel her wriggling in his arms already. Goldie didn't hold the ability to sit or stand still, she always had to be moving or speaking or doing something to occupy her mind and it kept both Ben and (Y/n) on their feet at all times.

"So, are you ready to go home?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Daddy!" Goldie wrapped her arms around Ben's legs like her arms were rope tying him up. There was a very cheeky smile lighting up her lips as she tilted her head back to look up at him, resting her chin on his thigh so she could see him properly.

"Hmm, nope. I put my girl to bed an hour ago, so who are you?" Ben folded his arms over his chest as he looked down at the blonde girl clinging to his leg who frowned at his words. A whine passing through her lips as she shook his legs as much as she could but she didn't hold the strength to move him very much.

Ben had known it would take a while to get Goldie to sleep but he thought tonight she would have gone to sleep quicker because she was tired. She had been organising where she wanted everything to be in her room and then insisted on helping put things up in the living room. She had been worn out when Ben gave her the medicine that helped her to go to sleep and then she seemed to settle straight away.

But now she was still awake and out of her room. As soon as he came out of the bathroom she barrelled into his legs and clung to him. He could tell that she was tired, her eyes were drooping but she clearly didn't want to go to sleep just yet.

"It's me... daddy please?" Goldie unwrapped her arms from his legs and proceeded to hold her arms out in front of her, pushing herself up on her toes to try and show him she wanted to be picked up.

Ben sighed before he cracked a smile and scooped her up into his arms, holding her to his chest as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Why're you still awake missy, I know you're tired." Ben started walking over to Goldie's room but the moment he tried to set her down on her bed she wrapped her legs around his waist. She seemed to gain strength from somewhere as she tightened her limbs around him so he couldn't put her down. Some sort of whine left her lips as she shook her head, wanting him to cuddle her rather than tuck her into bed.

"Wanted cuddles." She mumbled as she kept tight hold of Ben to emphasise her point.

Saying nothing, Ben pulled back up before turning around and sitting down on the bed. He laid down so Goldie was laying on his chest and stomach before he pulled the cover over the pair of them. He noticed Goldie closing her eyes when he pressed his lips to the top of her head as he started slowly rubbing his hand up and down her back.

"Can we try and go to sleep this time, baby?" Ben whispered against her hair but he already knew she was calming down.

It took a long time to get Goldie to settle down, let alone get her to sleep and the medication she had to help didn't do all that much. It was easier when she had long days and was more tired because she was more likely to calm down quicker and want to go to sleep or just lie down in bed and drift off later.

Goldie wriggled around a bit, trying to get comfy as she kept her arms around Ben's chest and rested her head just under his shoulder before she seemed to be more at ease. Moving a lot less than usual as he could feel her breaths evening out against his own.

[thecaroliner]

That awful CBR Kataang article

I don’t normally do metas but this was so bad I had to respond. I think I actually had a stroke reading it

1. She shouldn’t teach him waterbending

At the beginning of the series, Katara was a waterbending novice, barely capable of maintaining a feeble orb of water in midair. As she traveled with Aang, they grew as waterbenders simultaneously, each growing through their journey to the north pole where they were taught by the same teacher.

After that, Katara assumed the duty of Aang’s waterbending tutor, which doesn’t really make sense considering that they should both be at the same approximate place in their training. In fact, Aang was shown to be more naturally adept at waterbending and capable of picking up the techniques easier.

So, like, did you completely miss the episode where Katara is shown to have advanced more than Pakku’s other students who have been training for months or maybe even years at this point? Yeah it’s a little weird considering that she’s only been there about a month, but Katara is just really, REALLY good at waterbending once she had a proper teacher. And yes Aang did pick it up really quickly but we also see in said episode he was lounging around playing with Momo rather than practicing, unlike Katara who it seemed like practiced hours each day.

2. They did their best work separated

Both Aang and Katara were intensely powerful benders who accomplished many amazing feats through their powers. However, it’s interesting to note that their most formidable feats were accomplished by themselves and separate from one another. Katara learned her most powerful techniques, bloodbending and water healing, completely without Aang’s aide. And the amount of incredible things Aang accomplished without her are immeasurable.

For starters, he was able to embody the spirit of the ocean, beat Fire Lord Ozai, and impressed the last dragons. In fact, he had to intentionally abandon her to attain his highest form and gain control of the Avatar State, pretty much definitively proving that they are more powerful when separated.

....What does this have to do with anything. Like, seriously, anything. Should they not be amazing, powerful benders unless the other is there to help them?? I genuinely don’t understand the point you’re trying to make here. Also do you not know how the Avatar state works? 

3. The Cave of Two Lovers

One of the defining moments in Aang and Katara’s romance was the episode “The Cave of Two Lovers.” In it, Aang and Katara are separated from everyone else in a system of caves on the way to the city of Omashu.

The romantic nature of the story inspires Aang to hint his true feelings to Katara and, after some rom-com levels of shenaniganry, the two almost kiss for the first time as their light goes out. Without the light, however, the pathway of glowing crystals becomes clear and the two are able to escape. The episode is generally never brought up, both in discussion and the show’s lore, because it is, for lack of a better word, cringy.

Great argument, just explain what happened in the episode and then don’t explain why it’s bad or weird

4. Political Disagreements

Their biggest obstacle came in the comics, where they came within moments of splitting up over political disagreements. Specifically, their fight was over the Harmony Restoration Movement, which attempted to remove Fire Nation colonies following the end of the war. After Zuko had a change of heart and wanted to keep the older colonies in place, Katara agreed with him.

Aang was initially of the mind that all Fire Nation presence in the Earth Kingdom needed to be removed to ensure peace. Their conflict came to the point of violence when Katara had to talk Aang down from the Avatar State to prevent him from ending Zuko.

Again you just explained what happened and not why it was bad

5. Aang’s grandkids are better without him

There’s clear evidence that Aang and Katara weren’t the best parents, as evidenced by the emotional and psychological hang-ups of their kids, but the most telling proof that they weren’t fit to raise kids is how their grandkids turned out. Given that Aang never met them, Tenzin’s kids were never directly influenced by their grandfather and they were all nearly ideal children. Sure Ikki and Meelo are hyperactive, but they’re kids and are shown to mature somewhat with age while retaining their energetic personalities.

Free from Aang’s influence, Jinora even becomes a more powerful spiritual advisor than her father, who was so burdened with Aang’s pressure that he was never able to fully embrace his spiritual side.

Um, WHAT? Are you freaking serious right now? Of course we gotta go with the dumb “Aang was a bad dad” argument, AGAIN, which obviously was blown way outta proportion. But I can’t believe you’d actually say that they are better off not knowing him

6. They both have PTSD

While to romance between Aang and Katara is often framed as being between two kindred souls who knew from childhood that they were meant to be together, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Even from the first moments they met each other, both exhibited acute symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder.

Katara’s maternal instincts are likely derived from witnessing her mother’s demise and the prospect of vengeance. Aang had a tendency to misdirect, project, and avoid his issues over abandoning his culture and being lost in time. He also demonstrated a consistent lack in ability to process his anger, often snapping and yelling at his comrades over his perception of their failures.

ONCE AGAIN. WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING. Also, are you literally implying that PTSD victims shouldn’t be in a relationship? ok

7. Aang kept her from seeing her dad

In one of the most despised episodes of the entire series, “Bato of the Water Tribe,” also featured a moment that probably should have destroyed Katara and Aang’s relationship. In the episode, Aang intercepts a letter that would provide Katara and her brother information on where their father, who they haven’t seen for three years, might be stationed and give them a chance to see him. Worried that they might abandon him, however, Aang hides the letter from them.

Katara’s father was at war and could have died at any time. If Aang had prevented the water tribe siblings from seeing their father, there’s no guarantee that they would have ever seen him again.

This is as close to a legitimate point as this article gets. But I guess they’re forgetting how Aang felt guilty about it and how neither Katara nor Sokka took it lightly and it took a while for them to forgive him. 

8. They gave their kids inadequacy issues

If there’s one thing that could be gleaned from the Legend of Korra spin-off series, it’s that Aang and Katara weren’t the best parents. The oldest, Bumi, was born a non-bender and even in what appear to be his mid-50s, and after an illustrious military career, was still dealing with the inadequacy issues imparted by his father who always wanted an airbending child.

His sister Kya was so affected by her parents’ pressures that she spent several years traveling the world by herself before being forced to return to the south pole to take care of her co-dependent mother. Tenzin, the only airbending child was denied a childhood by his father hoisting the burden of an entire culture on his young shoulders.

Nothing in the show implies Kya was forced to come back and live with Katara. Katara was an elderly woman, devastated by the loss of her husband of 50+ years. My grandpa died many years ago, and if we hadn’t already lived in the same town as them, my family would’ve definitely moved up there to be with my grandma who was all alone. Taking care of your family is bad, I guess.

9. Their relationship got worse in the comics

The romance between Katara and Aang was a slow build on the show, developing infrequently from beginning to end. After the show ended, the generally laudable comic series took over the narrative and fumbled their relationship worse than a clumsy wide receiver. After affirming their relationship, the series depended entirely on an unfair dynamic between the two.

Katara was jealous of Aang constantly flirting with other girls closer to his own age, Aang bragged about being able to kiss her to everyone who would listen, and neither could think of a better pet name than “sweetie.” Overall, their romance just sort of went on automatic in the comics.

Show me ONE TIME where Aang flirted with other girls. Being friends with other girls is not flirting with them. Aang only mentioned being able to kiss her ONCE, and it wasn’t in front of close friends. He didn’t freaking go out in the middle of a crowd and go “HEY EVERYONE LOOK I CAN KISS KATARA”

10. Their kiss at the end was weird

The only time when Katara and Aang’s romantic relationship really picked up steam was in the final season of the show, culminating in the final scene of the original series where the two finally share a reciprocated kiss. As romantic as the tone was, it was offset somewhat by the atmosphere between the two leading up to that moment.

Mere episodes earlier, with the looming threat of genocide, death, and continued global war hanging ever-present over their heads, Katara was still uncertain and upset over Aang’s advances and made that abundantly clear to him.

Whoa, Katara took time to think about her feelings before jumping into a relationship?? Wow, how stupid of her.

11. They worked better as friends

The Kataang relationship was present throughout much of the series, but was only addressed and developed a few times at sporadic intervals. For the vast majority of the series, their relationship was one of matriarch and dependent. Aang needed Katara to keep him humble and focused while Katara’s motherly nature made her want to keep Aang safe.

Put bluntly, they were friends and their relationship worked well in that regard. But whenever romance was forcibly inserted into the equation, Katara began questioning how she felt about Aang and stated openly that she was uncomfortable with his affections. I.E. red flags that they probably should just stay friends.

Man, how dare Katara and Aang have a solid friendship before being romantically involved!!!!!!! You’re not supposed to be FRIENDS with your significant other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

12. The age difference

Though Aang is technically over 100 years old, he’s biologically only 12. And though Katara herself is only 14 at the start of the series, the gulf between a 12-year-old and a 14-year-old is far greater than that between a 30-year-old and 32-year-old.

Despite having moments of genuine sage wisdom, Aang’s everyday behavior is more on par with an 8-year-old than anyone in his actual age bracket. This might not be his fault as his isolated, holistic upbringing instilled in him a strong sense of detachment, which might have prompted some of his more selfish actions, but even the most mature 12-year-old should not be making out with someone two years older.

I am forever baffled by y’all thinking that someone with a fun-loving, carefree personality is childish. When you get to a certain age are you supposed to stop having fun?? Stop telling jokes??? What a miserable life that would be

13. It was a one-sided relationship

When Aang was freed from the iceberg he’d been trapped in for the past hundred years, his first instinct was to fall head over heels in love with Katara. However, she didn’t see things the same way for quite some time. In fact, during the entire series, their romance was viewed through Aang’s lens with little to no input from Katara’s opinions on the matter.

In fact, she made it obliquely clear from the beginning of the series that she saw Aang more as a little brother or pseudo-child rather than a potential love interest, a view that didn’t change until very late. And even then, she was more embarrassed and confused by Aang’s affections than reciprocal.

Yeah, because relationships in real life are always 100% mutual from the beginning, and one person is never interested before the other is. That NEVER happens.

14. Their romance was unnecessary

While they were one of the primary pairs of the show, Katara and Aang’s relationship was only focused on in a handful of episodes in the original show’s three-season run. And those episodes tended to be considered weaker or filler between more significant arcs. Overall, their ship was not integral to the narrative of the show, both figuratively and thematically. You could remove all the Kataang content from the show and it wouldn’t change anything.

It wouldn’t even effect the series’ general quality, only improve it slightly. This might have been an issue in the writing staff as central breeding pairs are a trope in most shows, animated or otherwise. But just because stereotypes exist doesn’t mean they have a purpose or need to be used.

This was a show about magic, martial arts, and war. All the romance on the show was technically unnecessary. Doesn’t mean it shouldn’t have happened.

15. Zuko would’ve been a better match for her

The main rival of the Kataang ship is the Zutara vessel, the faction of viewers who believed that Katara would be better off with the series anti-hero Zuko. And they’re probably right. Zuko and Katara have expressed an interest in each other before, launching their ship in the first place, but it’s more because Zuko is more mature and, for lack of a better word, attractive than the alternative.

There’s also the pretty significant matter that they both have similar emotional baggage. Katara has issues with her father abandoning her for the war, Zuko has problems with his father being a dictatorial jerk, and they both lost their mothers at a young age due to the intricacies of politics and conflict.

*eye roll* “Zuko and Katara have expressed interest in each other before” Where? Show me where.

Ok so before you said that one of the reasons Kataang doesn’t work is because they both have PTSD. Buuuuut Katara and Zuko having PTSD is a reason..they should’ve been together? And full offense, but Katara having hard feelings towards her dad for a short time in one episode that was resolved quickly is in no way equal to Zuko experiencing lifelong physical and emotional abuse by his father. I’m actually really angry and kind of offended you would even think this was a reasonable comparison.

16. Their personalities never changed

One of the most important aspects of fictional characters is how they change. Round characters are indefinitely more interesting than flat, one-note characters. And while Aang and Katara are in no way flat characters, they didn’t change much within the confines of their relationship. That is to say, while their presence in each other’s lives changed the others’ personalities, they did not change all too much to each other after their childhood.

As seen in Legend of Korra, Katara is just as maternal and wise as she was in her youth. Korra’s brief flashbacks to Aang’s life demonstrated that he grew somewhat more serious as he aged, but was still immature enough to pose for pictures of him doing his marble trick.

fklafj;afjea;fef; if AANG MAKING A FUNNY POSE FOR A PICTURE IS IMMATURE. god i’m just. i am so done with this article.

17. Aang decided how many kids they had

One of the biggest decisions a long-term couple can make together is if they want to have children. It’s a choice that, if made in the affirmative, can never be taken back, and if they do decide to have kids, they both need to determine how many kids they want or can afford to have.

While Katara never said anything on the subject, their kids were more than happy to discuss how Aang was insistent on having children until at least one of them developed airbending so he had a surefire way to pass on his near-extinct culture. Presumably Katara was more than happy to have three kids with Aang, but if Tenzin had turned out to be a water- or non-bender, he would have demanded that she continue.

LITERALLY WHAT SHOW ARE YOU WATCHING HERE, MY DUDE. Where was this EVER said or even implied. Might I point out in Legacy where Aang literally says that he and Katara were open to the idea of having more kids after Tenzin

18. She lived without him for 20 years

t’s stated in Legend of Korra that Aang died when he was 66. Given that Katara is approximately two years older than him, that means she was about 68 when he passed. By the end of the spin-off series, Katara was 89, according to the official wiki.

That means that she had around 20 years to live, grow, and evolve as a person without Aang around. In all likelihood, if Aang had somehow returned to her after all that time, he might not even recognize Katara as the same woman he fell in love with. As far as the series is willing to tell, Katara’s only company after Aang’s death was her daughter, the Order of the White Lotus, Korra, and infrequent visits from her other children.

Wow, how dare Aang DIE and leave Katara all alone. What a jerk!!!!!!!! I guess my grandpa is a jerk for dying and leaving my grandma all alone, too! Men SUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

19. She had a crush on Jet first

Kataang shippers tend to consider the start of the relationship to be the moment Aang saw Katara. He looked at her through rose colored glasses the moment she broke him out of the iceberg, framing her in light and a romantic breeze. It took Katara a little while to come around to having feelings for him, but she had a few different non-starter relationships along the way.

The first, and by far most impassioned of these, was with the freedom fighter Jet, who she met all the way back in the first season. Her crush was apparent and strong enough that she was disproportionately upset when she saw him several months later. She may have wound up with Aang, but she clearly had stronger initial feelings for Jet.

Wow because nobody in real life ever has multiple relationships throughout their lifetime or crushes on other people before meeting their significant other. And yeah, Katara totally shouldn’t have been upset to see the guy who tried to wipe out an entire innocent village unless she was madly in love with him

20. The (older) age difference

Despite only looking like a pre-teen, Aang is actually over 100 years old. He was born and raised before the start of the 100-year war at the Southern Air Temple. Upon learning he was the reincarnated Avatar, Aang was surprised. He and Appa were caught in a ferocious storm that sent them below the waves.

In a moment of self-preservation, his Avatar state activated for the first time and he bent himself into a frozen iceberg, which preserved him as he waited for a century beneath the seas near the Southern Water Tribe. The series is riddled with Aang’s hang-ups about his long-dead culture. It often causes rifts between himself and the other characters.

What does this have to do with their age difference or Kataang at all

[awkward-radar-tech]

An Awkward Tech: Part 5

Summary: It has been 3 months since Matt stayed over at your apartment for the first time, and your relationship is going stronger than ever. His family is having a group dinner, and he invites you to come along and meet the rest of his family. 

A/N: Surprise! I finished this finally! I hope you all enjoy, I have like two or three more parts planned, and anything else I think of for these love birds. Larger time jumps to come. 

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 6 – Part 7 – Part 8 – Part 9 – Part 10

It was the perfect afternoon, you and Matt finally went to the diner in dapper attire for lunch and now the two of you were sitting in his garden enjoying a picnic while watching the sunset. Life was good with Matt, you loved each other dearly and you couldn’t imagine life with anybody else. His brothers have become less of a nuisance to you, mainly they just say hi if they happen to be around and continue doing whatever they need. One time you, Ally, and the triplets went out for lunch because Ally wanted to approve of this triplet dynamic, and both you and Matt ultimately regretted it because Ally, Ben, and Kylo got along swimmingly and began to trade embarrassing stories about the two of you. And now apparently they have hung out together many times, trading more stories, talking about how grossly in love the two of you are, and bonding so when they become “in-laws” it won’t be awkward as Ally put it to you. You and Matt haven’t even been dating a year yet, just over 7 months, and Ally, Ben, and Kylo believe you’re going to get married. Neither of you have met the others parents yet. You did your best to ignore Ally’s comments, you couldn’t bring yourself to think too far ahead in your relationship.

Matt tapped you on the shoulder, “Hey Angel, you have been offly quiet, is something wrong?”

“Oh no. I’m just thinking about how much I love you Matty.”

“I love you too, princess. I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“My family is having a dinner next week, and I was wondering if you would like to come with me. They all are eager to meet you, so you wouldn’t be intruding, but it will be everyone.”

“What exactly does everyone mean?”

“My brothers, my parents, my maternal uncle, his daughter, my non-biological uncle, my maternal grandma and grandpa, and my mom and uncle’s godfather who is basically my great uncle.”

“Oh wow, that is a large family. I think I’ll come with you, get meeting them all out of the way in one event. And do I get names, or do I have to wait until later?”

“You can have names now. In the order I told you there is Ben, Kylo, Leia, Han, Luke, Rey, Lando Calrissian, Padmé, Anakin, and Obi-Wan ‘Ben’ Kenobi. And yes, Ben is named after him, he helped take care of Luke and mom when grandma Padmé got sick after they were born, and he continued to be a large part of their lives, and now their kids’ lives.”

“That is amazing. What is the story about Lando?”

“Oh, he is a long time friend of my dad’s. My dad has known him just about as long as Uncle Chewie, who I’m not sure yet if he is able to make it. I hope he is, Chewie is the best.”

“Is Chewie his real name?”

“Naw, it is just a nickname he got as a teen. He is very tall and hairy, and where he is from there is this legend about a Sasquatch type thing called Chewbacca, hence Chewie. I don’t even know his real name. I think he legally changed it to Chewie, too.”

“Your family seems very interesting.”

“It most definitely is. I’m excited for you to meet them.”

“I’m excited to meet them.”

The next week, you incessantly text Matt about what to wear for the 8 hours leading to the time he was going to be picking you up. You sent him questions, pictures of the clothes laid on your bed, mirror selfies, pictures you made Ally take of you, links to clothes you could run to the mall and buy, and just general comments of nervousness. He eventually just called you to help calm you down. He told you an outfit to wear, and reassured you that it was perfect. Matt knew this whole mess was due to your nerves about meeting his family, mostly his parents, and he did his best to comfort you.

To help calm you, he arrived early so the two of you could just sit together without anybody around. Ally was spending more and more time at her boyfriend’s, and she left to his place around noon. You felt she was going to move out soon, but that was something you would think about when the time came. You always knew Matt had your best interest in heart, and it definitely showed when he was at your door an hour early holding a brand new fuzzy blanket.

Before you could get a word out he spoke, “I know I’m early, but I figured you would like some time with just me, here alone, before heading over. And I got you this because I know you like fuzzy things.”

You hugged him tight, “Oh Matty, I love you. You’re always so thoughtful and caring. And you’re the best boyfriend ever!”

“I love you too, (y/n). You’re the best girlfriend ever. Are you gonna finish getting ready now, or later?”

While you had your hair fixed the way you liked, and had put on your blouse, you still had on your comfy lounge pants and slippers. “I think I’ll change later, I want to use that blanket now.”

You took the blanket out of his hands and took off the tag and ribbon that kept it folded for display, then ran and launched yourself on to your bed, throwing the blanket over yourself. Matt just laughed at your adorably childish ways, and walked in to join you. He took off his shoes and glasses before climbing in behind you, pulling the blanket over himself and then you closer to his body. He held you close, kissing your neck, whispering sweet nothings, and you hummed in content. You loved being held by Matt, he made you feel small and protected, and you could never get enough, especially with the kisses and whispers.

Matt kept an eye on the time, rousing you from the nap you fell into 15 minutes before the time he had said he would pick you up at. He sat on the couch while you finished getting ready, and once you finished, the two of you left for his family’s dinner.

On the ride to his parents’ house you were bouncing your leg in both excitement and nervousness. You hoped that they liked you, that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself, and that Uncle Chewie was able to attend. While everybody seemed interesting to you, Chewie fascinated you the most and you couldn’t wait to meet him. The drive wasn’t too long, only half an hour away from your apartment, enough distance between the triplets and their parents for each set to feel comfortable. You knew there was a strong family bond, one you wished you had, and that while the boys needed their freedom, they could never live more than a reasonable drive away from family.

Matt pulled up to a beautiful two-story house with a nice lawn, exactly what you would expect of the home of a semi-famous senator. As always, Matt opened up your car door before offering his arm to you, walking to the front door. He opened the door and walked the two of you in, explaining that it was easier to keep the door unlocked when expecting guests or family than to have somebody answer it every time.

From down the main corridor, a somewhat familiar woman’s voice called out, “Is that you Matt? And is (y/n) with you?”

While leading you to where the voice was coming from Matt responded, “Yes, Mamma, to both questions. And before you ask, we are walking to you now.”

Entering the kitchen, you found a small woman, one you saw every-so-often on the news, but in far different attire. Instead of the suit she adorned for work, Leia was in a nice t-shirt and jeans with an apron on top. She set down the spoon she was using and took off the apron before coming to greet the two of you.

Smiling a warm smile rarely seen on TV, she came and hugged her son, “Hello my darling at-at, how are you?”

“I’m doing fine, Mamma. I would like to formally introduce you to my girlfriend, (y/n).”

Leia turned to you, “It is a delight to finally meet you, (y/n). You are so much prettier in person, pictures can never capture a person’s aura.”

You held out your hand, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Organa. I’ve been a fan of your senatorial work since I became old enough to vote.”

Leia softly pushed your hand aside, “Oh, darling, just call me Leia. And I’m more of a hugger in a non professional setting, especially with my boys’ girlfriends, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all, Leia, I’m more of a hugger too.”

Another voice chimed in while you were hugging Leia, “You’re gonna fit in just fine, kid.”

When you looked at the man who spoke, you could tell just from the hair and the way he held himself that this had to be Han Solo, “I am going to assume you are Han.”

He laughed, “You assume correctly. Nice to meet you, (y/n). Matt, along with his brothers, have told us a lot about you.”

“It is nice to meet you. I see where Kylo and Ben get their hair from. But where does Matt get his hair from?”

Leia rejoined the conversation, “That would be from my side. My father and brother both have blond hair, you’ll see when they get here. Although the curls are from Han.”

Matt groaned, “Okay, that is enough history for now. (Y/n), let me show you around the house.”

You took Matt’s hand and waved to his parents, “It is nice to meet you, see you in a little while.”

Matt lead you through the house, passing by his brothers watching TV, and to the backyard. There was a deck and a nice sized grass area, but what caught your eye immediately was the garden taking up the back portion of the property.

You gasped, “Is that your mom’s garden? It is amazing!”

Matt chuckled, “Of course it is my mom’s garden. Most of my succulents are clippings from her’s. Do you want to go walk through it?”

“Oh yes please Matt,” you squeaked out while squeezing his hand hard and jumping up and down.

Matt just shook his head and lead you to the garden, the two of you walking around looking at all the plants for awhile.

Then you heard Ben’s voice call out, “Hey, you two lovebirds! The Skywalkers are here and Old Ben just pulled up with Grandma and Grandpa. And Dad said Lando is a few minutes away with Chewie.”

Matt called back, “We’ll be in in a moment. Thanks Ben!”

“Yes! I get to meet Uncle Chewie!”

Matt just laughed and pecked your cheek before leading you back in. Entering the room where Ben and Kylo had been watching TV, more people were sitting around talking. There was a man that looked about Leia’s age with a beard, next to him was a girl, then there was a white-haired old man with a beard, another old man, and a very fashionable old lady, and you were pretty sure you could figure out who was who. When they noticed you two had entered the room, all conversation stopped, and they looked at Matt expectantly.

Matt cleared his throat before speaking, “Everybody, this is my girlfriend, (y/n). (Y/n) this my Uncle Luke, mom’s twin, his daughter Rey, my cousin, Obi-wan or Old Ben, my mom and uncle’s godfather, and finally Grandpa Anakin and Grandma Padmé.” Matt pointed at each as he said their name and they waved to you.

Padmé spoke out first, “Oh, aren’t the two of you so precious. You compliment each other perfectly. Ani, aren’t their expressions towards each other familiar? I’m so happy my little Matty found somebody so perfect, and I haven’t even talked with you yet, but we will soon enough.”

Little Rey spoke next, “(y/n), do you like sciencey stuff like cousin Matt?”

You went and knelt down in front of where she was sitting, “Why yes I do, I’m going to become a scientist one day, although in a different area than Matt.”

“Oohh! Matty is gonna be coming to my school soon to talk to the science club at lunch, do ya wanna come with him? I’ll make sure to tell Mr. Windu if you do.”

“I’d love to Rey.”

“Yay! Thank you (y/n), you’re the bestest, just like Matt!”

Kylo and Ben chimed in at the same time, “What about me?”

Rey laughed, “You two don’t like science and building stuff as much as Matty, so you guys are lame.”

The two brothers both acted hurt, and Rey just stuck her tongue out at them, prompting everybody to laugh. Matt joined you on the floor, and the conversation continued on, either about stories of past family gatherings or asking more about you. After some time you leaned over to Matt to ask where the restroom was, and he insisted on escorting you.

Once out of sight of the family he kissed you, “I love you so much. And my family does too. Even little preteen Rey likes you, and normally she just sits bored and quiet at things like this. I think you became her idol when you said you were going to be a scientist and would come talk to her club with me. She never believed me when I told her girls could love science, too, but seeing you proved it to her.”

“Aww, you really think so? I’ll talk science with her as much as she wants.”

“You’re amazing, Angel.”

He continued to guide you to the restroom and waited to escort you back, detouring through the kitchen to get some drinks. While in the kitchen, the front door opened, and Han booked it over to the entryway. There were only two people missing from the group, so you knew it had to be Lando and Chewie. Matt walked over to you with the opened drinks and asked if you wanted to go say hi. Telling him yes, you followed him to the entryway, finding the three friends in a big hug. Chewie was taller than you imagined, you pictured a man only a few inches taller than the triplets, but this man was probably pushing 7 feet, not the 6 and a half you were picturing. You couldn’t see much of Lando, but you could see parts of his clothes and knew he had a sense of style. No wonder the triplets dressed so well, having the influence of both Padmé and Lando they couldn’t possibly dress horribly. You began questioning yourself, but you knew that Matt helped pick out your outfit so you were able to stop the growing anxiety. The three friends broke their hug and noticed the two of you standing there.

Han introduced you, “(y/n), this is Lando and Chewie, my long time friends. Guys, this is (y/n), Matt’s future wife, currently his girlfriend.”

Lando stepped forward and held out his hand to you, “It is a pleasure to meet you, (y/n).”

You shook his hand, “It is nice to meet you, too, Lando.”

Chewie placed his hand on your shoulder and spoke with a voice deeper than the triplets, “You and Matt look like a great match, and from what I’ve been told, you are. Nice to meet you kid.”

The two greeted Matt before speaking with Han again, and you and Matt returned to the living room.

Almost to the living room Matt suddenly hollered out, “Hey Ky! Unca Wanwo is here!”

Over the laughter from the room, you could here Kylo yell out, “Hey Rey, cover your ears. Can you hear me? Okay, good. Fuck you Matty-kins! Alright Rey, you can uncover your ears.”

“I think I’m gonna need that story later, Matty.”

“It would bring me great pleasure to tell you.”

Returning to the living room, Kylo glared at Matt. You both sat down and conversation flowed, the three friends joined, and Leia popped in and out, getting help from Ben, Kylo, or Han when needed. You leaned the history behind the many last names, Padmé legally kept her maiden name, but socially went by Skywalker; Leia had the last name Skywalker until she was old enough to legally change it to her middle name, Organa, which was the last name of another family that was close to theirs and helped take care of the twins when Padmé got sick; and then most obvious, Han and Leia hyphenated their last name for the triplets, each keeping their name, but never correcting anybody if called Organa-Solo socially.

Eventually Leia came out and announced that dinner was ready and to help yourself to everything set out in the kitchen, then find a seat at the dining room table.

As everybody was migrating towards the kitchen, Rey ran up to you and tapped your arm, “Hey, (y/n), can I sit next to you at dinner? Matt can sit on your other side!”

“Oh of course Rey, I would love it if you sat next to me!”

She beamed up at you, and you smiled back. What you didn’t notice was everybody else giving Matt a knowing look, you were a perfect fit to the family and he better not lose you.

As you were serving up you food, and helping Rey reach the things set further back, Padmé pulled Matt aside.

“My darling Matty, I know this is really early, but I want to give you this. Your love is so pure, and she is such a beautiful sunflower, radiating light and happiness all around her, I want you to use my engagement ring to propose. Your parents eloped before I even knew they were in a serious relationship so I couldn’t give it to Han. I know you two are taking it slow, and it might be a couple years before it is used, but I wanted to give it to you now so you have it when the moment is right. I love you Matty, and you couldn’t have found the more perfect young lady.”

Matt teared up, “Thank you Grandma, this means so much to me. I’ll take good care of it until I use it, I promise. I love you too Grandma.”

“Now let’s get back and get some food before they notice we’ve disappeared.”

Once served, Matt took the seat on your left, since Rey chose the seat on your right. Everybody ate and carried on light conversation, but once everyone had their fill, you and Matt got put on the hot seat.

Lando began, “So I know the two of you met through school, but what’s the whole story?”

Matt nudged you with his foot to let you know you could tell the story, and so you began, “I was working on one of my final papers when my laptop got a virus. My best friend and roommate knew Matt worked with computers since they were in the same psych class and asked him the next class if he could help. He insisted that he could come over after class, and Ally decided to not give me advance warning and burst into our apartment screaming, waking me from a nap, and then she left a few minutes later for a date. He fixed my laptop, I took him to a small cafe by my building for dinner, and then paid for his meal as a thank you, much to his disliking. The only way he accepted was that I told him he could pay for our next dinner, which became our first date. After the date, Ally celebrated because apparently since the moment she saw Matt she knew we would work and had been trying to find an excuse to introduce us. And I’m glad she found it.”

“Ally what?! And now she thinks we’re sickeningly sweet.”

“Yeah, but that’s the way she is.”

“Alright. So anyways, yeah that is pretty much it. Mom helped me arrange the reservation for that dinner, and (y/n) was definitely surprised and awed by the restaurant.”

Rey gasped, “Are you guys like a fairy tale?”

You smiled, “I think we are. It sure feels like it.”

“That’s amazing. You’re a science princess and Matt is a science prince!”

Chewie joined in next, “Wait, nobody told me you were a science person, too. What are you going into?”

“I’m going to go into bio-chem and help research a cure for cancer in a lab.”

There was a bunch of positive murmurs around the table, and looking over at Rey, she was already looking at you in complete admiration. In that moment you knew this was the family for you, they all were taken away by your career path unlike your own family who, while supporting your decision, didn’t seem to believe it was a good choice or that you would actually help find a cure. You would hold on to them for as long as possible.

“That is truly amazing, (y/n). I can’t even fathom how smart you must be wanting to do that,” Chewie admired.

Before you could deny it, Matt jumped in, “She is the smartest person I have ever met. The way her mind works is amazing. She has such an analytical mind she could find connections between things you couldn’t possibly think could be connected. She can break any concept down into easy to understand language. She will deny it, but she is so smart.”

You just looked at him, his eyes and smile were filled with love and admiration, and you licked your thumb and smudged his glasses.

Matt gasped and pulled off his glasses to clean them, “What was that for?”

You giggled, “That was too sickeningly sweet for even me to handle.”

Everybody laughed at your exchange, and Ben reached across the table to give you a high five.

The rest of the evening was filled with delicious desserts and plenty of family stories you thoroughly enjoyed. You even got a few stories from Han, Chewie, and Lando’s adventures before meeting the Skywalkers.

You and Matt left the same time Luke and Rey did. The four of you said goodbye to everybody else, and walked to the front yard.

Rey tapped her dad, “Hey dad, can Matt drive me around the block in his car before we go?”

Luke looked at you and Matt and you both nodded, “Of course he can, sweetheart. I’ll stay here with (y/n), see you in a bit.”

Rey grabbed Matt’s hand and ran to his car, Matt barely keeping up with her.

As they drove off, Luke spoke, “I don’t know what it is about you, but Rey has never asked any of the boys’ girlfriends anything, she always just kind of glares at them, even when she was a toddler and asked everybody questions. I have a feeling you’re going to be somebody she looks up to, just like Matt, so hopefully you’ll be around for awhile.”

“I sure plan on being around for awhile. I don’t know how I got so lucky, an amazing boyfriend with an equally amazing family.”

“Well, we are all lucky to have you, too. Especially Matt. You’re both sweet kids, with amazing futures ahead of you. I wish you the best.”

Matt’s car pulled up while Luke was speaking so you both walked over, Rey jumping out with a huge smile on her face. She gave you a hug when everybody exchanged their final good nights.

As Matt drove off, he placed his hand on your leg, “My family really likes you, (y/n). They were all bugging me about when I was going to propose to you.”

You laughed, “I really like them too. And boy aren’t they eager, we are still undergrads.”

“That is just the way they are. They know it would be a while if it were to happen, but that doesn’t stop them from asking.”

“They definitely aren’t the most subtle.”

“Never.”

“I love you Matty. Thanks for inviting me.”

“I love you too, (y/n).”

The rest of the drive Matt took the time to tell you the story behind Unca Wanwo and at-at. Kylo was slower than the others getting pronunciations down as toddlers and so Unca Wanwo was all he could say, not Uncle Lando, and then both Ky and at-at were nicknames Leia came up with when they were newborns.

As always, Matt walked you to your apartment and kissed you goodnight, but this time was different knowing his family adored you and with the ring burning a hole in his pocket waiting to be used. He would use it eventually, he felt it in his soul, but it would be a while until it happened. Once back in his car he pulled out the ring and smiled thinking about you, and your possible reactions when he proposes, he was the luckiest man in the galaxy.

Tags: (since I’m cool enough to have one now) @bellaren18 

A/N pt. 2: I have read a few fics recently with human Chewie in modern aus, and I felt like that would be a good fit for this story.

[wagonlitcommunitytheatregroup]

I have no greater fear on this planet than I or my loved ones getting Alzheimers.

I have witnessed it in family members three times now.

The first was Norm Steele who was technically one of my Grandfather but only by virtue of him being a great family friend of my Mother's

I only knew Norm through Alzheimers and I was very young. My Grandma Shirley, Norm's wife, told stories of his great wit and good humor. Even in his days descending into Shakespeare's second childhood I remember a playfulness.

The second time I witnessed it was with my maternal Grandfather, Charles Paul Gadson. Grandpa Paul I knew as slightly before he began his dscent into the disease and had some sense of him in his right mind.

Grandpa Paul's life was a complicated one full of trauma, guilt, and anxiety. These traits he shared with many of the damaged Americans of the so-called Greatest Generations. The Americans of recent memory that suffered the most under the Great Depression and corporate greed.

These scars of his era contributed to Grandpa Paul mixing his Alzheimers with a dose of alcoholism. Alcoholism he had managed his whole life by drinking long into the night at the pharmacy he owned. My Mother identifies this as a way to stay away from my Grandmother, Ruth Gadson. Grandma Ruth was woman equally or even more severely scarred by her era who took out her many psychosis on her children.

(My mother's proudest line to her mother as she lay in the hospital toward's the end of her life went as follows:

"Mom you should really consider seeing a physciatrist."

"Debbie why would I do that? How would that help me?"

"I don't know Mom, it helped me a lot with getting over your upbringing.")

I'm getting side tracked however. Grandpa Paul was a Freemason, an Optimist, a recipient of some sort of Heart of Gold Award, a Navy pharmacist, and later, a local phamacist who worked every holiday to make sure people had their medication, a man who regularly drove friends and strangers to cancer treatments and airport trips.

Grandpa Paul was the man who, for all his failings as a father, purchased all my baby formula and diapers. As a pharmacist and just generally an old man he had collected scores of orange pill bottles. Whenever he heard I was ill he would show up at the house with a pill bottle full of peanut m&ms as a prescription and would give me instructions to take "as needed until symptoms improved"

He was, as we all are if we are being honest, and incredibly complicated person. And I witnessed layers of his own understanding fall away like leaves off a dying tree....maybe that's not the best metaphor. Alzheimers is a buildup of plaque on the brian, therefore he was as a tree straining under the weight of wet snow, weakened by cold, bending until finally he broke.

For the purposes of this stream of consciousness poem I will spare the details of his slow descent to death.

The final, most recent, ongoing example of this horrifying disease is my paternal Grandmother, Barbara Parker, or as she would sometimes say to me, channeling her kindergarten pride "Barbara Jean Alexander, A-L-E-X-A-N-D-E-R".

Grandma Bobbie was without a doubt the sweetest woman I have ever met in my life. There are aspects of her legacy that are less sweet according to my mother and rather hesitantly confirmed by my father regarding her early treatment of my mother but suffice it to say I have never had a bad interaction with her.

Grandma Bobbie was marries to Richard Parker, my Grandfather, Grandpa Dick. He and I only had the pleasure of knowing each other for three months before he died of lung cancer.

From everything I've learned the Parker family lived the quintessential American Dream. Two parents in love, many long road trips with family friends, three smart children, a husband with a pensioned, unionized job as an electrician.

From what I know about Grandma Bobbie and Grandpa Dick they both deserved every ounce of happiness the universe threw their way.

So today...I talk to Grandma Bobbie on the phone from the nursing home. She has recently been diagnosed with Covid-19 and has been placed in isolation. This is likely a death sentance and I see no reason to not accept the fact that the current room she is in is quite possibly where she will die.

During the course of the conversation, after establishing who I was, something every person who has experienced another's dementia has to get used to, she informed me that she is just sitting in her room on the bed, falling asleep periodically, and watching whatever is on the television.

We talked about a number of different topics and she did remember that Laura and I have moved into a house with a yellow door, though she does not realize she will never get to enter it and see her picture which hangs on the wall in the entryway. A picture she was very glad to have described to her.

She kept mentioning how bored she was.

That is what broke my heart on the phone and is breaking my heart again as I write this essay.

The thought of dying bored, confused, or reverted to childhood is a supreme horror to me.

The only horror that comes near it is the thought of witnessing anybody else I knew at their peak mental state succumbing to something so terrible.

The idea that Laura, Josh, Brock, Craig, Therin, Brad, Debbie, Rich, Nancy, Jake, Emily, Chris, Nolan, Michael, Mike, Angie, Kenny, Vince, Casey, Kirby, Jordan, Thom, Nancy, Aaron, Reuben, Stephanie, Colin, Matt, Liz, Brett, Keith, Scott, Austin, Kate, Bob or anybody I've ever known and loved would have to slowly fade away is unbearable.

My father told me point blank when I was about fifteen, during Grandpa Paul's descent, that if he got Alzheimers I was to kill him or arrange to kill him.

I wrestle with that thought every time the topic of Alzheimers enters my life again.

I don't know how to end this.

I'm a little sick of endings at the moment to be honest.

I suppose all I can say is to keep learning everything you can and doing everything you want.

It's possible you will lose it all some day.

[snowedinpodcast]

Transcript below the cut! 

Let’s Walk: Spirit Butterflies [Transcript]

[Content Warning: ghost stories, vaguely unsettling imagery like shadowy figures and death-inducing charms: no bodily or mental harm)]

「今日も雨 あの日と今を/空と空でつなぎたいの」

(Translation: Today it’s also raining; even now I want to connect that person’s sky to mine)

Let’s talk ghost stories, dudes. I’ve got a couple from mom, from her time growing up in Japan, and … they make me feel a kind of way. They remind me how … my agnostic ass does enjoy some chthonic, earthy spiritualism. 

I guess a quick prelude is in order before we get into the, into the meat of things. I don’t tie myself to any one faith or another. My dad is a Zen Buddhist. My mom is … casually Shinto? There aren’t any strict religious traditions that we really do in regards to either of my parents’ choice of faith. We do Christmas kind of superficially, for the presents and for the fun of it, not so much for the Biblical significance … so that’s my background. 

What I do like is places and objects that feel like they have a kind of agency—some sort of presence that is beyond my understanding, as a human. I don’t need to know if it’s the case or not, I don’t even know if I’d be able to know if it was the case or not, I just like feeling that way. I like liminal spaces, places where the normal bustling activity you expect is gone, and so everything feels alien and strange: like an overpass at two in the morning. There’s still some cars—which feels strange, ‘cause it’s two in the morning, where could you people possibly be going?—and yet, there’s so few cars compared to what you’re used to in the daytime that … you can hear the individual hums of each car as they go by. And it’s intimacy is what it is, you’re too close to something you’re not normally close to or aware of in that way. I like that. I like intimacy with places and with objects. I like picking up a skeleton key in an antique store and feeling the heft of it … and then looking at the price tag and seeing that it’s $4.00 and I am absolutely too cheap to pay that for a single key, no matter how pretty it is!

I do like thrifted clothes, though and that’s also part of it: I like the story that this object has, I like that it’s outlasted me already and it will probably outlast me if I take good care of it. And again, it’s not about knowing, I don’t need to know who owned it previously, I just like the wondering, I just like reaching out into this nebulous life-before-me … and sitting with it. Life outside of me. Life beyond me. 

So that’s the part of ghost stories that I like so much. And—I guess maybe ghost stories isn’t entirely fair. That’s what I like about … about unexplained, natural moments. Chthonic earth magic! Yeah, let’s just call it chthonic earth magic, sounds good. It’s kinda redundant because “chthonic” means of the earth, so. Apparently, also, “occult” really just means of nature: magic that is tied into naturalness. Occult has gained a connotation with the demonic and the sinister but it includes more than just that. 

‘Kay, I think it’s story time. I’m going to give you … three stories. Two are short, one is long. 

First story: My mom’s mom, her grandma—no! Her mom, my grandma—Obaasan—told her that if you notice a shadowy shape behind a tree, behind a building, lingering around you, you should think, inside your head, that you and this shape are of different worlds and there is nothing you can do to help it … and you leave it alone. This didn’t really hit that hard for my mom until the day in elementary school or middle school when she was out at recess, out in the schoolyard, and she did sense a shadowy humanoid figure ... and she took her mom’s advice and didn’t interact with it. [Sigh].

I can’t say I’ve had any experiences like that, but there is a little stone lantern sculpture thing that we have in our front yard. It has a hole that runs right through the center of the main lantern part. It almost looks like a little house, actually, ‘cause there’s a cylindrical piece that is the main body of the lantern and then a heavy, straw-triangle-hat-shaped stone piece that fits into that cylindrical body—so I always called it “the spirit house.” And I remember one summer I just left bundles of flowers in that hole through the middle because it just felt like a nice thing to do for whatever creature was living in it—‘cause I guess I just felt like a thing might be living in it and it’d be nice to give it things? And this freaked my mom out. She didn’t like that at all. She said not to look through the hole, don’t try to interact with the thing, stop leaving it gifts. Of course, I kept doing it, and nothing happened to me, but I remember … I remember feeling distinctly, one day, that there wasn’t a thing there anymore. And so I stopped giving it flowers. Or maybe I just got tired of it, who knows, but yeah. Yeah! 

Occult stuff doesn’t happen to me, I really wish it would. Come mess with me, demons, I invite you. I may live to regret that … that invitation. 

Second story. My mom was hanging out with a bunch of friends from school, they went to one of the friend's houses and played hide and seek, played card games, Karuta, what kids do. And at some point they noticed there was one more child than originally gathered at the house. My mom took into account the advice of her mom and she didn’t point this out, she just waited it out, continued to play with her friends and this new mystery child who no one could quite identify. And then at the end of the, the playdate, when everyone went home, there was the right amount of children in the house … same number as before. 

Third story. This was prompted by me telling my mom about the drive home from seeing Wonder Woman at a drive-in theatre a state away. I took on the driving, uh, two of my friends—we’ll call them H and K—came along. Um, because we still live in pandemic times, we all wore masks, and we kept our gathering to a small number, just the three of us, so. So it was obviously not the safest but it was, it was within covid19 safety regulations and it’d been a while since any of us had hung out, so … you do what you do. You make do. And it was really fun. It was great. They served food at the venue so we didn't have to worry too much about bringing snacks. We’d all seen Wonder Woman before, so we got to make snide comments and jokes and gush about how hot the characters were the whole time [laugh]. It was, it was just, it was so exciting. We also talked about Greek mythology—my buddy H is big into that stuff, and Ares plays a significant role in this film, so y’know. Good times. 

On that drive home, I was on a main road and got six or seven or eight green lights in a row. It was unusual. It wasn’t … occult-y … but it was unusual, and by the third light that remained green as I sailed beneath it with my friends beside me … I started bowing my head a little bit as we came up to the next light, and the next light, and the next. They kept letting me through, so it felt ritualistic. But not dangerous, it felt … interesting. When I finally hit a red light it was just as I was in the lane to make a left turn into a major highway, so it felt like the natural end of that road. I was moving from one path to another, and so I would’ve had to slow down or stop anyway. 

When I told my mom about this, she told me about the trips in the taxi to and from the summer house where her extended family members gathered. These weren’t fun trips for her, there was a bunch of drama [laugh] on my mom’s side of the family. Drama is putting it pretty lightly, um … her mother was married to the first son of the family and so there were pretty heavy expectations put on her and she was expected to do a bunch of maternal caretaking for free and to not complain about it. And she was looked down upon by other members of the family. Not entirely sure why—maybe it was because my grandma’s family’s status wasn’t the same as the status of the family of the guy she married, but, either way, from what I understand, there was significant mistreatment and emotional abuse and it wasn’t a good time. 

My mom had a sense of that, the other cousins kind of singled her and her older sister out. The, the patriarch of the family, I think her grandfather, would pick a child and question them at mealtimes and my mom did not like that pressure. He was a difficult man to read and she just didn’t know what he wanted and she ... [sigh] it was a source of stress for her, she wasn’t a fan. So she remembers these trips as unhappy. She remembers knowing she’d have to eat boiling hot noodles in the sweltering, humid summers of Japan because noodles were the family patriarch’s favorite dish. Just general unpleasantries. 

At least twice—maybe more?—on the drives to this summer house, the taxi driver would seem to be lost. It was like the path turned into a loop. More time than it should’ve taken to reach the summer house would go by. And then my mom would notice that her older sister was squeezing her hand. She would look over, and her older sister would tell her, quietly, that she’d seen the same tree multiple times. This struck my mom as kinda strange ‘cause she would look out the window and just see a blur of trunks, no singular tree discernible amongst the swath of them, but her sister said what she said and eventually the taxi driver would pull over and get out of the car to do some small activity. Maybe go have a smoke, maybe circle the car a little bit and mutter. Then they would get back in the car, get back on the road, and the path would sort itself out. They’d get to the house late and the taxi driver would offer a reduced rate to make up for the trouble. 

My mom says she doesn’t remember where she’d heard this, but this is what she told me about this phenomenon: when you find yourself on a path that turns into a loop, you may see an inn. That inn will have a door, and behind that door will be a long hallway that doesn’t have anybody in it. You should not pull over into the parking lot of this inn, you should not knock on the door—not for food, not for water, not for directions, not for anything—and you should definitely not go in. What you’re supposed to do is find a place to stop, to break the cycle, to get off the road. Take a little break, exit your vehicle if you have to, don’t stray far. Then get back in and you will find the path takes you where it’s supposed to take you. 

I asked her what deity or creature is responsible for this driving diversion and she says she doesn’t know. It’s all very mysterious. Chthf—[laughs]. Chthonic earth magic really be that way. 

So yeah. Now that we’re on the ghost topic, the spiritualism topic, I did think of something. I wish more occult-y stuff happened to me, that would be exciting, make me a believer, why don’t you—again, making invitations I may live to regret [laughs]. But there is something I take notice of every so often. It hasn’t happened for a long time, but, especially back when I was in Japanese school—which I did from kindergarten … no, from preschool, up through … no, from kindergarten up through the end of middle school, I’m pretty sure—we would have field day at least once a year. Granted, Japanese school was a four-hour session every Saturday, it wasn’t after school every day for me, but it was an occurrence, and I wasn’t always a fan of it because why do I have to have an extra day of school when my friends get to have two days of weekend? So there were ups and downs and there were times I was grateful for it and times I was less grateful for it … and overall that shakes out to a net positive, I guess; thanks parents, thanks for pushing me. I’m glad I have a basic third-grader’s amount of Japanese vocabulary and sentence structure. That’s all I retained but it’s better than nothing. 

Anyway, we had field day every year, I remember being in the indoor gym—this is important—being in the indoor gym, digging through my backpack, pushed up against all the other backpacks at the side of the gymnasium, and seeing a flicker of something out of the corner of my eye? It moved the way a butterfly does, a sort of uncertain hover, very quick and noncommittal. I don’t remember what color it was. I think it might’ve been gray. But I couldn’t look at it because someone called my name—one of my friends—and I looked over at them and they were telling me it’s time to line up to go do one of the, one of the sports day activities. Tie your hitai-ate around your head already—tie the strip of cloth that’s red on one side, white on the other, the two colors of the Japanese flag and the two teams that you could be placed on to either one of for field day activities—and, uh, get your butt over here already, man. [Note: The term for this cloth is actually “hachimaki”; “hitai-ate” refers to a forehead-tie from the Naruto manga and anime. My bad!]

I looked back where I thought I saw a flutter, obviously nothing was there, and I went and did field day. This happened also at an outdoor field day. Some years before or after, again, I was sitting somewhere, on the grass I think, on the hilly part of the courtyard, and I remember seeing a flutter and I think, this time, it was white … I’ve seen grey flutters, black flutters, and white flutters. I think most often white … probably because it’s light shifting from a door that moves, but you know, who knows. But yeah, I remember telling my mom about these too; I tend to, whenever anything vaguely interesting that is possibly of a spiritual nature happens, and I think she was puzzled about them? She didn’t seem to be concerned, she didn’t seem to be thrilled. 

But yeah. Yeah. There is a very tenuous thread that weaves my whole life together and it is various shades of spirit butterflies, I guess. If that’s really so, the universe is in good hands. Good paws … good feet? Good wings? 

[ Hi, I’m here to break the no-edits rule that this podcast promised you [laughs]. I have one more thought to add to this meditation. When I was 10 years old, maybe, on a trip to Japan to the Inari shrine, specifically, I was “called” into the woods—supposedly—by the Inari god. The fox god. The Trickster god. That is how my mom remembers this, that is how she told it to my grandma, who was as concerned as my mom was. 

I don’t remember it this way. I remember seeing a path in the bamboo shoots and just thinking it was cool and trodden on but not as much as the main path … so I should follow it. See where it goes. Why not? The wind whistled past me as I was running down, and then I heard my mom yell, and I guess she seemed farther away than I thought I had managed to get by that point. But I turned around, and I went back to her, and she was upset. 

Having talked to her about this more over the years, she’s since revealed that there’s supposedly a cart that sells dark talismans off the beaten path of the Inari shrine. Normally, at most shrines, you will be able to purchase various talismans for good health, for success, for … good romance, for positive studying results. But then this other cart, which is harder to get too and off to the side, sells bad luck totems and wishes for death upon individuals of your choosing … talismans of that nature. So when I thought I was running down any old little path, my mom thought I was being called to the dark cart. [Laugh]. So I guess, in retrospect, I see why that was troubling to her. 

Another thing about the Inari shrine is that you can buy little pieces of paper that are cut in the shape of a fox and they tell you … your fortune, pretty much? Yeah. You don’t get to see what it says until you’ve bought one, obviously, there’s a container full of them, you pay, you pick one out. And we did them, my mom got ... I think middle luck, or something? I think my dad might’ve gotten bad luck, or one step above bad luck. But I got big luck … I got the, the best option they have in there, and that struck my mom as strange because apparently Inari-san doesn’t really favor anyone? Or if they do, their favor is fickle, because they’re a trickster god. They just, they just like watching things burn. They don’t have loyalties ... to people. We’re just little dolls to them that they can maneuver for fun. ]

Alright, well, this has been fun. Thank you for that. Always good to talk to you. I’ll catch you on the next. 

[severingt]

Mary, my paternal grandmother

My paternal grandmother wasnever as popular as my maternal one, presumably for that reason? However, where do my thoughts begin? My dad’s parents lived in a rented terraced house in Milton which she kept spotlessly clean. It was a turn of the century house, small wall and front garden, the front door was to the right of the building. As you go through the door the stairs were almost directly in front of you and to the right. Behind the door was a lucky horseshoe. At the end of the hall was a half table with a lamp on it; to the right was under the stairs. Directly to the left of the halftable and straight ahead was the door into the parlour / living room. To the left of this door was the dining room door and to the left of that was the door into the front room.

As you enter the parlour, directly ahead was a dinner table and then the television in front of a window looking out onto the sideway to the garden. Beside the window, to the right was the door into the kitchen. Then on the right hand wall were two built in units either side of the fireplace; which had been blocked up and an electric fire of the period, with plastic imitation coals now sat. On the right hand unit was always a plant in a glass vessel where the bulb sat in the cupped top and the roots spread down into the bottom part which was filled with water. In the cupboard to the left of the chimney breast was where the biscuits were kept. The parlour led on to the kitchen which seemed to be a bit of a haphazard affair painted in blue gloss. As you step down into it there was the fridge onthe right followed by a table under which was the twin tub washing machine.Then there was the cooker, then a work surface, I think which crossed the room. Coming back was the sink and a door into the garden then you’re back in the parlour again. There was an outside toilet tagged onto the end of this building. She had some really nice furniture, big polished tables, sideboards and an upright piano in pride of place in the front room. No one ever played it, or could play it for that matter; but there it stood, magnificent and gleaming…just waiting. My best memory of the dining room was one Sunday when my uncle and his family had come over for the weekend – they lived in a little village outside of East Grinstead, called Ashurst Wood. My uncle had spent an age cooking Sunday lunch and had served it up, it did look the business. So, after everyone had been served he sat down to eat and asked for the salt and pepper cellars, which were those little yellow and blue Tupperware ones that everyone had at the time. Picking up the pepper first, he flicked the lid off and inverted it ready to shake over his food. It was then that the top fell off and into his food, closely followed by the contents of the, till then, full pepper cellar. I laughed, it was funny. He seethed, fired off a scathing complaint to his mother and attempted to scoop the excess pepper from his rapidly cooling roast dinner. We used to go to her house on a Wednesday after school. She used to buy a fresh cream filled sponge cake, usually. I think we had sandwiches and also Maryland cookies. Fruit was something I don’t remember having at home, but my grandma had some. That’s where my lifelong love of oranges, and specifically blood oranges, came from. She was a portly woman with a big double chin, very wispy hair, big round belly and bony legs. My brother and I never liked her kissing us as it always stung our faces; much later I found out that she shaved her top lip hair [badly] and it was this stubble that punctured our young skin. She enjoyed a drink, I can remember her with a glass of beer. She was a great cook, her fruit pies, specifically her rhubarb ones were nothing short of magnificent. They had a grumpy old terrier bitch called Gora, apparently named after their hometown of Gorey, County Wexford which they fed on the cheapest dog food available, Chappie. It was years later that my childhood asthma would be attributed to this bitch, when I bought a collie bitch and the asthma returned. Years before, with her sister Sara, she had been in service in Ireland. At a guess, I would say that’s where she learned her cooking skills. The back garden was like a small market garden, well, it was ‘The Good Life’years before the TV show. Onions, potatoes, carrots, runner beans, Brussels sprouts, apples, raspberries, rhubarb, blackberries were just some ofthe fruit and vegetables I can think of. However,I do have a lasting memory of one Pancake Day when she decided to make pancakes but lost enthusiasm and decided to make one big one. To this end, she poured all the liquid into the frying pan and made this big thick, well,Yorkshire pudding really. It wasn’t very nice. I think she did a bit of fostering as I clearly remember two young girls staying with her. They wanted to kiss me all the time, who knows what their backgroundwas. She certainly took in lodgers as I clearly remember random men being there and her cooking for them. This reads less well than it should do, my grandfather was present all the time. I used to go round there on a Saturday and we used to go to Milton market where she did her shopping and at the post office I used to get a little plastic cowboy or Indian. They were only cheap but they were a treat. She was certainly more fun than my maternal grandmother, in an Irish tradition I suppose. That side of the family always seemed like more of a family than the other side. Aftermy granddad had passed, she used to come over for Sunday lunch. So we had both widowed grandmothers there every Sunday. She had this annoying habit of waiting for lunch to be served then talking at the dinner table of who has what illness / had died. I think that’s an Irish thing? At some stage she made the decision to relocate to Ireland. I don’t know what the thinking behind it was but that freed up her house for my uncle and his family to move in. He had been unlucky in business and had returned to Portsmouth as a case of necessity. Her move didn’t last long and she was back living with us, much to the annoyance of my mother. They weren’t each other’s biggest fans, although I believe my grandmother tried to get along with her but my mother could be difficult at the best of times and impossible when she wanted to be. My mother took it upon herself to find her a place to live and so it was that soon enough, for everyone except my mother, she moved into a flat in Campbell Road, Southsea. It was an okay little place, big enough for her to manage and company in the other residents.

After a while, it became increasingly obvious that she wasn’t managing and a decision on her future had to be made. How this came about remains to this day a mystery to me, but she moved in with my uncle’s family, who had by now relocated to Cornwall.

I never saw her after that.

One day I came home fromwork and my then wife, Lesley, was fuming. She said some woman had called and that she wouldn’t leave a message but would call back to speak to me later that evening. When I answered the ringing phone, I discovered that ‘the woman’ was my aunt, ringing to inform me that my grandmother was very ill and to expect the worst within a few days. My aunt rang to tell me because when she asked my mother to do it she was told ‘oh, we don’t talk to them’. Believing that I had a right to know about my grandmother’s condition, she took it upon herself to ring me. In the interests of fairness, it is true to say that we had a falling out with my parents, which lasted many [for me] happy years and we only reconciled when I needed some information for a passport. Even then, the wounds were still so deep that Lesley had to phone and ask her as I would rather have not gone on the holiday, 7 weeks in the USA, than talk to her. I think that shocked me more, that my mother wouldn’t let me know about my grandmothers impending death. Why I would be surprised is strange as she had already spent years systematically destroying my reputation within the family. ‘You can’t always trust your mother’, Lou Reed.

[emilywrecker]

bb twins update--29 weeks

how far along: 29 weeks

weight gain: no clue, haven’t checked in weeks (will find out at dr. tomorrow, meh).

what i’m wearing: i’ve been trying to keep my wardrobe as simple as possible, so i’ve mostly been wearing the same clothes on repeat, and doing laundry every couple of days. i did, however, get to try out some new maternity clothes, and i’m in LOVE. this chambray dress and these leggings from Ingrid & Isabel are amazing--soft, stretchy, comfortable, and they stay in place. i told b that i want to live in the leggings for the rest of my pregnancy!

sleep: i’m still battling allergies (or a cold, or whatever this crud is), so i’ve been sleeping with my oil diffuser on my nightstand each night. i’ve been mixing doTerra breathe and lavender oils, and it takes me to my happy place.

recent highs: my mom, grandma, aunt, and cousin threw a beautiful party for the twinsies, and our friends blessed us so good! we were overwhelmed by the generosity of our community. these bebes are definitely entering into a community where they will be extremely loved and taken care of.

b and i were able to get away to puerto rico. it was beautiful. we relaxed, dreamt about the future, and tried to nail down names for our little boys, but we still don’t know! overall, it was a great trip, and i HIGHLY recommend babymooning. we are big fans.

we left judah cash with some of our close friends for the week, and he did great! they kept us updated with pics and videos all week, so we felt connected. we were able to spend a few days with them before we traveled home, and we left their house feeling uplifted, encouraged, and loved.

recent lows: a bit of back pain, but nothing major. the last time i went to crossfit (right before our trip), i think i overdid it, and found myself waddling around that evening with some back pain (i used doTerra deep blue, and it helped!). i decided that if i go back to the box, i definitely have to chill out in there. ha. the last thing i want to do is go into early labor in the middle of a workout.

bebe movement: SO MUCH movement. baby A gets hiccups frequently, and seems to move around a bit more than baby B, but baby B enjoys kicking my ribs on the right side. i love watching my huge belly move as they wiggle around in there.

food cravings: still chocolate/sweets, but also fresh vegetables—mainly peppers. the yellow peppers in PR were SO GOOD.

bump progress: i feel like i’m getting huge, but i can still wear outfits that hide the bump relatively well. i don’t think i’ve reached the CRAZY-LOOKING-PREGNANT-WITH-TWINS stage yet, but i’m well aware that it’s right around the corner.  

labor signs: i had quite a few braxton hicks contractions the first day we were in PR—which totally freaked me out, but they subsided, and have been a lot less frequent. it’s comforting to have been through real labor, so i don’t have to freak out every time a BH contraction comes along, but it is crazy/exciting that my body is already preparing for labor! 

overall mood: i’ve been feeling more physically exhausted at the end of each day, but overall, i’m thankful to be feeling ok. i still have energy to chase around JC. i’m still blown away by the fact that i’m carrying twins. although it’s scary/overwhelming at times, it feels like such a privilege!

looking forward to: we have an ultrasound tomorrow! excited to see how the boys are positioned. i’m also interested to talk to my dr. more about having my doula present at the twins’ birth. we live in a small town, so there are no midwife options (boo), and there are only two OB options in our entire county (crazy, i know). our OB and hospital were super helpful with JC’s birth--they let me stick to my birth plan, etc., and do things as natural as possible, but i realize with twins it’s a different story, and i’ll most likely be delivering them in an operating room. i’m trying not to worry or stress about their birth, especially since it mainly depends on how they are positioned, and we don’t know that yet! overall, i feel at peace about however they will be delivered, but i’m praying daily for a natural birth.

i’d love to hear from any of you twin mamas who birthed in a hospital setting with a doula present--hit me up at emilywrecker@gmail.com.  

[intimate-stories-blog]

First time

I was fourteen at the time and started to discover my sexuality for the past year. Caressing myself, enjoying my first ejaculations. Realizing that my vision of the world changing, in particular the way i was seeing woman from a maternal side to a sexual attraction and desire of the curves. Older woman between thirty to fifty just turned me on. With internet, research and development of my fantasy were easy to satisfy but still were wondering of the touch of a woman. I used to stay oftenly to my grandma place on the weekend as my parents were working and my activities were closer to her place. Beautiful woman in her sixties, curvy and sensual. Same for my aunt who took from her mom. A younger version of her in her forty. My grandma was an active woman and single since my granddad died ten years ago. She never used to be shy around me, getting out of the bathroom in her undies or in night dress. Until this past year, i never realised how beautiful and attractive she were. The idea of having sex with her or my aunt started to be omnipresent in my mind and fantasy. As my grandma left to go out with her friends, i got curious to see her lingerie and have a peek in her drawers. Starting with the lingerie, sweet perfume of hers, sexy and sensual lingerie colorful. I started to be aroused and getting really hard. The lingerie did the trick but mostly the fact of being naughty and looking in her stuff. I hept looking feeling the excitement and adrenaline running through my body. I started to caress myself trought my pants all tight as i was damn hard and getting wet. Feeling my cock throbbing, sweet feeling when you start discovering your penis for a young man. My research wasn't vain as i found a vibro and dildo hidden in the back of a lower drawer. Got my curiosity and imagination running. Having in my hands, wondering their use and how to use them. Those images of her using them made me wild but couldn't grasp the full mental picture of it because of my inexperience. Don't really matter at that age, made me take of my pants and caress myself gently as my imagination did the rest. Cumming with intensity as for the first time, i could relate and fantasize more clearly. My legs shaking, i clean up and put back the toys. Then went to bed, still over excited and full of questions. My grandma comes back, it woke me up but i stay in my room and stay silent. She moves around in the house then stay in the living room, my curiosity takes me to have a look at what she is doing. She is on the couch in her dress passing her hand gently on her body. Makes me wonder what is she doing. She open slowly her legs and start touching herself and moaning. The view and sound of her doing so makes me hard again in a second. I caress myself through my pyjamas, hand enjoy the view. She finishes before me amd almost caugh me as she stand up. I rapidly go back to bed and wait for her to go to bed, still caressing myself too excited. I cum again then fall asleep. I woke up the next day and act like normal but can't stop thinking of last night and watch her more carefully. A month pass where i caught her using her toys and listen through the door as she does so. Spying on her gives me a rush of adrenaline every time, feeling that i truly enjoy. As i kept spying on her and fantasize on her, i realize that she is really active sexually and seems lonely and craving for attention. That's when i decide to try to play on this card and my apparent innocence. I try to figure out how to bring the subject or take advantage of a situation who would be in my favor. One saturday night, she goes out with her friends and comes home a little bit drunk. I am awake and listen carefully so i can determine what is she doing. She goes to bed stray away but some light sounds comes from her room. I stand out of my bed and try to listen more carefully. I can hear the vibro and she is moaning really loudly compared to usual. I am so damn hard but still trying to find the courage to do so. I go back to my room without making a noise, after a few minutes. I say to myself that it now or never, and convince myself that even if it doesn't work. Showing it all hard to her will be in any case a turn on and source of future fantasy. I know that i am bigger than normal which boost my confidence. I go out of my room acting normal and then knock on her door. She seems surprise by the sound in the room and ask me: what is it? I tell her that i have a few question i would like to ask her and feel a little ashamed to ask them. She tell me: okay, come in. Only a small light in the room and she is under a sheet but can still see her bra. I get close and try to hide my manhood as best as i can and act shy. She ask what is it that i am ashamed about and i tell her that i have something that doesn't come down and don't know what to do and seek her help. She doesn't seem to grasp the situation as she a little bit drunk. She says: what do you mean? I play it shy and take advantage of the situation. She sees that i am incomfortable and try to reassure me by sayimg that i can talk openly to her. I am really hard and the view of her breast and bra helps me as much as the situation. I say okay to her and tell her don't laugh as i stand. I lift my t-shirt and start taking down my pants. I watch her face getting incomfortable as i take my pants down. Then her looks goes from chock to wondering and enjoying it. I tell her that it is really hard for the past hours and don't know what to do. She struggle to find her words and can see her legs starting to move. She says as she try to look at me rather than between my legs, that it is normal. She is curious and enjoy it, i can tell. I will help you this time as she says. I say timidly thanks. She tells me, put your hand on it and gently go up and down. Try to feel what make you feel good. I caress myself in front of her, i enjoy the situation and feel my heart racing. I’m getting wet of excitement and see her eyes devouring every second of it. Her hands goes under a sheet, she starting to caress herself. I, then tell her that it is weird and wonder if she can show me. She doesn't know what to say but move her hand toward my cock. The feeling of her soft hand on it make it throb. The way she grab it firmly but gently jerk it. She smiles at me and ask me if it is better. I nod to say yes. Her breath as mine start to accelerate and be heavy. Her hand is getting faster under the sheet. The pleasure is too intense that i can't control myself and start cumming all over her hand and upper body. She is surprise but keep stroking me to make me cum all the way. I can tell that she knows what she is doing. She then bent gently toward my cock and lick it. Her tongue makes me shiver and my legs are shaking. She takes it in her mouth and clean it of all my cum, then lick her hand. She lost control and her inhibition are off. She smiles at me and says at it is good, i never came that intensively before and barely feel my legs. Seeing her smile and covered of my cum keep me so hard. She looks at it and says: should go down now, i reply sadly no, doesn't seem like it. Oh god she says, then let see if it is the case. I was satisfy with what happened but she took off her bra, showing her beautiful breast, i lost control but didn't care and just followed what was coming next. She took my hand and put it on her breast. Big and firm, didn't knew what to do with them. She takes my cock in her hand and start caressing herself and me. She ask me: do you like what you seeing? Am i desirable to you? I say yes with a shaking voice. You are big for your age and really hard, a woman like that. She take off her undie and tell me to lay down in bed. I lay next to her and start caressing her body, she pass her hand on mine and slowly drive it between her legs. So warm and wet, she tells me that it is like that because of me. She says put a finger in and move it in and out. I execute and feel her hand on mine giving the rhythm and how much pressure. She says that it is heaven for me and if i want to try to use my cock to replace my finger. I ask her if it will feet as it feel tight. She says don't worry about that. She show me the way between her legs and takes my cock in her hand. She caress the tips of it agains her wet lips and puch it in and out gently. This feeling on my foreskin just make shake as i go deeper and deeper in her. Feels good she says, it has been a long time since i felt some skin on and in me. I am at lost and can't really understand and manage this wave of pleasure coming and this feeling on my cock. She says move your hips as you feel it and enjoy. I do so. I start slowly and accelerate, she moans loudly and differently than what i heard previously. The pleasure is here, before i realise it. I already came but can't stop as i wanna please her. She realize it by my small break in my hips movement and the throbbing of my cock inside her. She smile at me and tell me to keep going like that. She will cum in a second. I feel my cock being contracted and her body tensing up as she let out a sensual and powerful moan. We both relax our body and lay down on her. She tell me, thanks you Josh. I needed that and it is a great gift from you. Made me blush and being shy. Now go back to your room and sleep. As i go back to my room naked and see my cock all wet of her cum and mine. I realize that i had sex for the first time and that the touch of a woman is something unique and sensational. I crash down in bed and fall asleep straight away. A first time that i will never forget and that will drive my imagination crazy for sure. I woke up the next day late and went down wondering what to do and what to say. I knew that i wanted her but not what it would mean after that. I go to the kitchen and she smiles at me: morning josh, slept well. I say yes. You are a good young man, but it will never happen again. Made me sad but understood the reason. Yet couldn't stop my body to react and crave for her, my pants were getting tight as i was eating my pancakes. Hoping that it will happen again no matter what.

[ilivesoilove0123]

Hey I need feedback on this.

I often look at my life and wonder where it all went wrong. Or right, whichever way you look at it. Was it when my first boyfriend started to abuse me? Or was it before? Have I always been this much of a loser?

I’m pretty sure the answer to that is yes. Yes I have always been a loser. But that never stopped this loser from having a small crush on a guy in high school. No it’s not this cliché girl crushes on the most popular guy in school thing. He had a decent amount of friends from what I saw. He wasn’t popular, not by a long shot. But neither was I.

He was pretty cute, though. Very cute if I was being honest. He had this sort of boy next door thing going on. That, coupled with his taste in music and sense of humor had me hooked girlfriend. He had that awful Bieber haircut before it was even a thing, like most of the boys did back then. Except his hair was brown, and he had the most amazing brown eyes. I’m swooning just thinking about.

But alas, that’s all it was, a crush. No matter how much I wished and fantasized, he never looked my way. And I had come to terms with that and I was content just admiring from afar. I mean, why would someone like him be interested in someone like me anyway? I wasn’t pretty, or very smart. I hated waking up in the mornings and I would rather read than actually pay attention in school. I hated most of my classmates and had very few friends. On top of that I had very low self-esteem.

When high school ended and everyone went their separate ways and I put my crush on the back burner. It wasn’t like I’d ever see him again. We never really crossed that many paths in high school, why would it change now? I found someone new and started going out with them. And before I knew it, 2 years had gone by before I thought of him again.

At first it was more of a, “I wonder what happened to him?” thing. But then I really got to thinking and trying to find out about him and where he’s at in life. So, I did some research.

And found nothing, NOTHING! It was like he had disappeared off the face of the planet.

And then I put him and my small I swear crush back to the back burner and tried to focus on the relationship I was actually in. And what a great relationship it was. At first anyway, but the then things went south. He started getting abusive.

It began with just mental abuse. A “you’re so stupid why don’t you ever pay attention?” here and then a “I wish I never met you.” Sprinkle it with a little, “sometimes I think about killing you.” and you have my man at the time. Lovely, right?

I know what you’re thinking-because it’s something I’ve often wondered myself, “why didn’t you just leave him?” And you’re right. I should have left him, he was horrible. But remember the low self-esteem? Yeah it did this wonderful thing to me and made me think that he was the best I was going to get. A-a-and it wasn’t so bad. He had his good moments too. He could be so sweet when he wanted to be.

Until he started to get worse.

And he started to get worse around the time we had a child together. A wonderful, beautiful baby boy that I was just so in love with. He was the best baby in the world and I’m totally being biased but I don’t care.

One day when I came home from work shortly after being released from maternity leave he was drunk and the baby was too quiet.

Turns out that my baby died that day. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome was the diagnoses. I had no proof but in my heart I just knew that he killed my baby. And still I decided to stay with him. Foolish, I know. But you see, he had started to physically abuse me right after the baby was born. And as long as it was just me he was abusing I thought I could handle it.

But then my baby died and I became depressed. I thought that I deserved it. That, because I didn’t get out before he did something to my baby that it was my fault. Of course, deep down I knew that wasn’t all true. But all of that abuse did that to me.

It’s funny though. In the end it wasn’t me that got out, it was him. It had turned out that for the last year and a half of our relationship he had been seeing some young, fresh in college girl. And one day he just… didn’t come home. Didn’t contact me after that either.

In the beginning I was devastated. I was attached to the man. He was my first boyfriend for gods sake. I had been convinced that he was the one. God how stupid I was.

One good thing that came out of our relationship was he encouraged me to become a nurse’s assistant at a nursing home. And I was actually good at it. I loved that place, I still do in fact.

It’s at this place that, five years after I had given up my search for something, anything about the guy I had a very small I swear to god crush on I thought of him again. It had been spur of the moment at first. The other girls on my team were talking about their celebrity crushes. And that made me think back to a time when I was just a naïve little loser with a crush on a cute guy. Then I thought, “I wonder how life is going for him. I hope he’s happy.”

Life works in mysterious ways. It kicks you down time and time again but then it gives you some hope. Hope for what, you never know. But they always say things happen for a reason. They say God puts people in your path for a purpose. I wonder about this a lot. What was the point of putting this awful man in my path? I’m afraid I’ll never know the answer. I’m more afraid of the reason why I don’t want to know.

I don’t know if it was God or fate or coincidence that put this next person in my life. But I’ll forever be grateful.

A week or so after my reminiscent episode we got a new resident. In a nursing home you’re bound to get residents coming in and out. Some stay forever and some leave forever. It’s part of life. You tell yourself you’re not going to get attached but it’s a lie. Spending that much time with someone day in and day out means you’re bound to get attached. And boy did I get attached.

You see, the resident was a sweet little thing. She told stories about her younger years and how she went about raising four boys all on her own. She was a remarkable woman. She loved to make jokes and always told me about her grandson and kept dropping hints about him. It started off innocently enough. “My grandson is about your age.” She told me on her first day with us after I had introduced myself and told her my age. “ In fact, you two probably went to school together!” she added with a smile.

I just smiled back and said, “We might have.” I hadn’t wanted to let her down that I in fact hated most of the boys at my school. I had hoped it would end there. And it probably would have if I hadn’t opened my mouth about being so very, very single.

Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t think I was ready for another relationship just yet. It had only been a year since my ex disappeared and I was still dealing with the traumatic stress it caused me. Plus, I was depressed and had very bad anxiety when it came to talking to people who might have a romantic interest in me. But sometimes it would get to me. Especially when I was the only one out of my coworkers that was single. I felt lonely sometimes. And the loneliness would get to me from time to time.

One of those times was when I was taking care of that sweet lady.

“You know, my grandson,” she began after I had gotten done telling her that I did in fact not have a child and that I was single. “he’s single too.” She said with a wink. “And he’s quite the looker. When he comes to visit when you’re not here all the girls just fawn all over him.”

I could believe that. The girls I worked with fawned over a lot of the relatives that came in for the residents.

And then I made a mistake.

Jokingly I replied to her with, “Maybe you should put in a good word for me grandma.” She preferred if I called her grandma. When I asked her why she had said that she never had any granddaughters and left it at that. I didn’t question why it was just me she let call her that, we just had a special bond.

She just smiled in return and changed the subject. I had sort of forgotten all about it until a few days later.

“My grandson is coming to the family dinner dear.” She said when I was getting her ready for bed. “You should come.” Each year the nursing home would have a big family dinner for the residents and their families and the employees and their families. It was a wonderful affair that got rave reviews every year. But it was also chaotic. I had been unlucky enough to have to work during that time every year since I started, until that year. I was so happy and didn’t plan on coming at all. Well, unless my nursing home grandma told me to.

But still, I was reluctant. “I don’t know grandma.” I replied after taking her socks off for her. “I kind of had other plans that day.” she frowned at me. “Why are you so intent on me meeting your grandson anyway?” I asked before she could comment about how she knew I didn’t actually have any plans that day.

She had a twinkle in her eyes when she replied vaguely with, “Let’s just call it grandma’s intuition. Besides,” she continued as she put her hand on my cheek. “I just want my two favorite people in the world to meet.” I smiled when she patted my cheek. “Now,” she said as she took her hand off of my cheek. “these dentures aren’t going to brush themselves deary and grannies tired, chop chop.” She clapped as I sighed and continued to get her ready for bed.

After a lot of pleading from both “grandma” and my coworkers on her behalf I decided to attend. I had dressed my best and actually put makeup on because I just knew that “grandma” would throw a fit if I didn’t look my best.

Surprisingly, for once, I wasn’t nervous that day. I usually have really bad anxiety when I have to attend functions. I’ve learned it stems from my first boyfriend and how he would get mad at the smallest things I did. Gosh how I hate that man.

It was weird being on the other side of the dinner. Usually I’m running around trying to stay out of the way of the ones whose families actually came while trying to make sure those that didn’t have anyone there get their meal as well.

These sort of things are bittersweet for people working at nursing homes. While it fills our heart with joy to see those whose family care about them and come whenever they can, it saddens us to see those who only have the workers. It always breaks my heart when a resident asks where their family is. I never have the heart to tell them I’ve never seen or heard of them coming in the time I’ve worked there. And the family dinners are no exception for me.

So when I got there, an hour early because I couldn’t stand to be away for too long, I made sure to visit those residents first. I made my way from resident to resident slowly. I was also stalling. While I was nervous, I was apprehensive about meeting “grandma’s” actual grandson.

She did have other grandsons, seven others to be exact. My sweet lady was not only blessed with four boys but also eight grandsons. She talked about all of them, and I knew the names of seven of them. I’ve always asked his name but for some reason she refused to tell me. She always danced around the subject. I know why now, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating.

Finally I couldn’t put it off anymore and made my way to her room. She was in her chair and ready to go eat. But there was also no one in her room yet. “Oh they weren’t able to come after all dear, but I’m so glad you’re here.” She told me after I asked where her family was. She followed it up with a smile that looked too innocent but I thought nothing of it as grabbed onto the wheels and we made our way out of her room. “You look nice dear.” She commented.

I had sort of zoned out as we made our way to the way to the front of the hall. So it startled me when I heard a deep voice coming from the nurses station.

“Grandma!” The voice said, making me jump and “my” grandma to let out a tiny squeal followed by “Justin!”

The name didn’t click at first. It just made me think, “Oh so the mysterious eighth grandson’s name is Justin.” And I thought what a nice name it was. Then I thought, “Don’t I know a Justin?” I couldn’t think of anyone named Justin but that name bugged me. I knew that name. Where did I know that name?

Then, I looked up.

I know my eyes widened. It couldn’t be. “G-grandma,” I stammered, “That’s not him is it?” my voice trembled as I asked her. It couldn’t be. I thought I’d never see him again after high school.

I thought I was over my very small crush on him. But as I looked in his eyes and saw them widen all those feelings came back. I was suddenly transported back to lunch period with glasses and some acne gazing from afar as I watched him between bites and talking to my small collection of friends.

There he was, in the flesh. The guy I never quite stopped pining for all these years. And he seemed to recognize me as well.

“Yes dear that’s my grandson.” She replied when she made me stop in front of him. I could see why all the girls fawn over him. He was still very cute. He had definitely grown up, and gotten taller. He filled out quite nicely.

He smiled at me and stuck his hand out. “Hey I’m Justin and you must be the infamous Brenna my grandma keeps talking about. And I’m pretty sure we went to school together.” Oh god. He was talking to me.

[musingsofmeanderingspirits]

My grandparents: Wes Buchheit and Regina Becker-Buchheit. My favorite photo of them!

I am very fortunate. This is because I was blessed enough to have four grandparents who gave me beautiful memories, made me feel loved and made me feel special. This is something every child needs.

I do not care what other’s opinions are of any of my grandparents, including my maternal grandfather. All I know is that they all treated me well and made me feel loved. I have only lived my reality and know my experiences. Therefore, my views and my feelings are based on this.

I also do not care how others feel about the name I use to refer to my paternal grandfather. This was how I desired to refer to him all my life but was not permitted to do so. If you want to think of me as a hillbilly or redneck, that is your choice and I am perfectly fine with it. I am my father’s daughter and my youngest son is his grandfather’s grandson. Both of us proud be to be country people, rednecks. It is long past time for Michelle to be Michelle and not who others want her to be.

Today is very difficult for me for some reason. I had the most wonderful day yesterday because my youngest son, Christian, who is always traveling and never home, surprised me with a visit and showed up with flowers and other gifts. The best gift was his presence and then Christian, his girlfriend, Bryce and I all went out for dinner.

I made the mistake of having a picture taken of the four of us. When I saw the picture I realized that I no longer look like me. This chronic illness has taken such a toll on my body that I can no longer stand to look at myself and had to delete the photo from Facebook. This sent me into a deep depression and I awoke this morning with the ME/CFS working over time. This means I will probably do a lot of blogging today because writing seems to help with depression.

Right now, I would like to talk about my paternal grandparents. I have a lot of regrets because I never really knew my dad’s side of the family and I feel as if I have missed quite a bit. My love of living in a rural area, the countryside, farm life, etc makes it easier for me to relate to my dad’s family, yet I feel denied of them. I am the oldest of 17 grandchildren yet I really never knew my cousins. This is something I regret deeply.

This my life currently and I would not change this!

Some of my favorite childhood memories were going to spend time on my grandparent’s farm in Southwestern Pennsylvania. It was the highlight of my summer, my entire year.

My grandparents farm was beautiful. It sat upon a hill and my uncle’s house was at the bottom of the hill within walking distance of my grandparents’ house. The barn, outhouse, chicken coop, etc. were a bit of a distance back. There was an old, worn down abandoned house where my Great-Uncle Lou used to live. I was fascinated by this house and wanted to turn it into a playhouse. Pap would not permit me to do so, however, because he said it was no longer safe. He was also using it for storage at the time.

Grandlpap had a Shetland pony named Candy, which he kept for his grandchildren, and he taught me to ride. Both of my grandfathers had nicknames for me and when Candy had a filly my grandpap named her Shelley, which was what he always called me. I loved Shelley very much and spent as much time as I possibly could with her while at the farm.

I loved doing farm chores with grandpap and looked forward to it! There were a couple of times that he promised to wake me early so that I could do chores with him before he left for the coal mine but I awoke in the morning to find my pap had already left for the mine. I remember being very angry with him for this. I doubt I told him I was angry but someone did, probably grandma. When he returned home he would say, “you were sleeping very good and I did not want to wake you!” But all I cared about was that I wanted to collect the eggs!

My grandfather had two corn fields. The one on the right was corn for the animals and the one on the left was for us! I remember walking into the tall stalks corn with grandpap to pick ears of corn for dinner. It felt like a maze to me and I could not see above the stalks but my pap always appeared larger than life to me. I remember he seemed very tall to me and he was my compass to navigate through the corn.

After we were done picking the corn, we would bring them back to the kitchen to grandma. My grandma would shuck the corn, remove it from the cob and fry it in a pan. It was the best tasting corn I had ever had and I never have had corn that good since. I am not sure what she did but it was so delicious!

I have never really enjoyed cole slaw. Except for grandma’s! Hers was the only one I would eat. For some reason her cole slaw always tasted delicious. When I was an adult she told me that the only thing she did different was to take the time to chop the cabbage extremely fine. This makes sense as I have sensory issues.

I remember always sitting around grandma’s kitchen table. She would get out the photo albums and we would sit around her table looking at them while she explained the photographs to us. I remember after we all sat down, she would go into the laundry room, which was right off the kitchen and where she stored the photo albums, and bring them to the table.

We spent quite a bit of time around grandma’s kitchen table just talking. These are beautiful memories for me. Grandma’s kitchen table is a special memory for me.

My grandmother was a very reserved and quiet woman. She was a bit hard to read, I remember, but the memories she gave me, I will cherish forever.

Unfortunately, my time with my paternal grandparents was just not enough. I feel, as with anyone and anything else I have ever loved, they were taken from me. I believe the reason I was so close with all my grandparents was because I showed that I enjoyed spending time with them, I cared about the stories they had to tell, the knowledge and wisdom they had. I showed that time with them was very cherished.

My time with my paternal grandparents was cut short because my grandmother showed concern for me and my pap showed too much favoritism towards me. This is something that was never permitted. We were the perfect family, so how can anyone be concerned? Michelle is definitely nothing special, so why make her believe otherwise.

After about the age of 7, I rarely got to spend time with my paternal grandparents or my dad’s side of the family in general. It was rare that I got to see them. My grandfather died suddenly at the age of 64, when I was 17. I never did get to see him “one last time” in the physical realm.

A chalk pastel I did of my redneck son. Art by Michelle Buchheit-Schill.

Grandma lived much longer. Until the age of 83 and I was 40. Even so, I did not get much time with her. The up side is that I did have opportunity to bring John to the farm, which he, like me, enjoyed a great deal. He became very fond his great-grandmother. They were two of a kind. Or should I say we were three of a kind? All three of us quiet and reserved. This is what we were comfortable with.

I owe pap and grandma a great deal of gratitude for giving me the beautiful memories that they did. I will cherish them forever! – Michelle

Farm Chores With Grandpap And Grandma’s Kitchen Table I am very fortunate. This is because I was blessed enough to have four grandparents who gave me beautiful memories, made me feel loved and made me feel special.