My dad is vacationing in Iran right now (yeah, he’s crazy), and this last weekend was both my parents’ anniversary and Mother’s Day, so I went home to spend some girl time with my mom.
On Saturday we went antiquing, got coffee, shopped like wealthy ladies of leisure at Target, and just hung out. For Mother’s Day, we took it pretty old-school: Early morning mass, breakfast, a roadtrip up to Granville to visit the family grave sites, lunch at Bob’s, and dinner with my mom’s brother. It was wonderful.
Three big things:
One) I now know where the Bueltels, Pennings, Van Burgens, and other relatives are in the family cemetery. ALL of them. But it was a GORGEOUS morning to wander between the tombstones, talk about how they’re related, and hear some of the stories my mom remembers. And good note: If I ever have kids, I’m totally going back to that cemetery and looking for name ideas. Wilhelmina? Cordula? Wilburga? Solid gold.
Two) I drove my uncle home after dinner Sunday night, and we hung out at his place for half an hour or so. Those who know Butch, know he’s got a heart of gold but is very introverted and quiet with most people. My grandma and mom are probably the two people he talks to most. Dad is a close second, as well as some very nice neighbors and coworkers. Needless to say, grandma dying was really hard on him. Probably harder than we know, because he doesn’t know how to express those emotions. Anyhoo, when I took Butch home, he invited me in and showed me around. Showed me EVERYTHING he owns, everything he’s updated, everything he cares about. I saw the lawnmower and snowblower, and his new bike (because someone stole his old one), the new siding, the new plumbing, the closet where he stores his towels, all the things he kept from when my grandma passed away… It was really fun. I so often feel like I don’t know how to talk to him, and moments where he seems really happy and proud are few and far between, so having him chatting away about his home was a great night to a family-filled weekend.
Three) When people inquire about my old-child status, I usually tell them that I was an oops baby. Once, my mom said I was a pleasant/needed/necessary surprise. Translation: accident. But I’d never really directly asked why my parents didn’t have more kids. Until Sunday, when we were leaving Starbucks and driving up to Granville. My mom laughed uncomfortably and said, I never knew how I was going to answer this. The answer was surprising, and the short version goes: my parents almost divorced over having kids (or not), they got accidentally got pregnant 11 years into their marriage, and because of the drama before, they never really talked about more kids. The conversation was a lot longer than that, but you get this gist. Crazy. Now I know! Also, I learned I was, indeed, named after Christ. My mom didn’t tell my dad, and she knew he’d see it if they spelled Christina (and he’s an atheist), so Kristina it was.
Man, I feel like I know a lot more about who I am.
Oh! And I’ve broken out in supposedly stress-related hives. For days. It’s awful. But GREAT news: I’ve started to tackle my cholesterol problem! Got a blood test today and they said my bad cholesterol is still pretty bad, but my good cholesterol is crazy high, so it’s working itself out. Huzzah! Now, time to tackle my post-PB weight gain. Thank god no one is trying to see me naked right now, that’s all I’m saying…