The Courage to be a Dreamer

Zig Ziglar said, “A lot of people have gone farther than they thought they could because someone else thought they could.” 

Grampa was that “someone” for me.  He taught me to have the courage to believe I can accomplish anything I can dream up. 

I made note of that Zig Ziglar quote and how it related to my relationship with my grampa many months ago and came across it as I was searching for things to share with you today.  It’s as fitting now as it has ever been as speaking to you today may be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. 

One day back in November of last year, grampa told me about a man he met who was travelling from somewhere farther towards the east coast and going all the way to Missouri on horseback.  Knowing my love and passion for both travel and riding, he had worked out a complete plan on how I could do the same thing.  Travel on horseback, find farm houses or people in towns who would let me stay with them each night, or even sleep under the stars.  There was no question in his mind that I could do it.  The only detail he forgot was I have no way to get the horse. 

That’s just the thing though.  He believed in me.  Always.  He thought I could do anything.  In every adventure, goal, dream, or crazy scheme I came up with, he was always proud and always behind me. 

He was like that with everyone.  He would invest himself in anyone who was willing to learn.  If there’s something you wanted to do or learn, but didn’t know how, he would never turn down the opportunity to work with you.

He taught me to drive the backhoe, blow out the lines in trailers, work on the engine of my old boat, pack wheel bearings, and even redirect a sewer line.  That was the great thing about him.  Even though I was a girl, he never denied me the opportunity to try anything.  He let me try everything I was willing to try.  Truth be told, I never cared about how to move a sewer line and really didn’t care to cut into that nasty thing.  It was more about the opportunity to be with him.

One of the most important nuggets of wisdom grampa ever shared with me was, “You just have to keep on dreaming.”

Grampa had a lot of dreams and adventures in his life.  Those were my favorite stories to hear. 

I think he really enjoyed the fact that I have a kind of wild and free spirit about me and am always up for a new adventure.  The last couple of years, I’ve been extra jam-packing my world with adventures to come back and report to him. 

I’ve flown across the country, gone on backpacking trips, gone hang gliding, ridden horses across the desert, ties sleds to four wheelers, completed a triathlon, and even built a log cabin in my living room.  And through all of it, all I could think was… “I can’t wait to tell grampa about this!”  And in times when I wasn’t sure I could do it, I’d always remind myself that grampa would believe I could.

Over the past few years, because of grampa, I’ve learned the value of having dreams and focusing on making those dreams come true. 

He bought the campground where he and grama have made their home for the past 39 years when it was an absolute pit.  From what I hear, it was a cluttered, filthy disaster.  But he saw so much more.  It took all they had to buy that property and a great deal of struggle at times to keep it, but that was his dream.  He took such great pride in keeping the property beautiful.  Kassidy mentioned the pride they both had in beautifully mowed grass.  She wasn’t kidding.  There was a right way to mow that grass and everyone was aware of it. 

Here’s how great his pride was in maintaining the campground dream and a true testament to how hard of a worker he was.  After one of many stays in the hospital and nursing home, (actually, he might have been living at the nursing home and just at the campground for the day, I can’t really remember)… Anyway, he could barely walk, but he was out with Tyler, Randy and me.  He was telling us how to blow out the lines on the trailers and at one point, Randy had to go down into a wellhouse or something underground.  Grampa was determined to give him directions on how to do whatever it was he was doing so he got down on his knees and leaned deep into the hole Randy was down in.  I remember Tyler and I just looking wide eyed at each other and shrugging our shoulders.  There was nothing anyone was going to do to stop him and I certainly wasn’t about to be the one to try. 

My favorite thing about my grampa was that he never stopped dreaming.  Even in the late part of last year, as his health was continuing to decline, we sat down one day and he was telling me about all sorts of things he would like to do or have done.  Things like having a barn closer to the house, buying a golf cart, gosh I can’t even begin to remember all the things he rattled off.  Even knowing his time was short, he kept thinking about new dreams. 

Grampa was my greatest inspiration and one of the people I love and respect most in my life.  Nothing gave me greater joy than to hear him say he was proud of me.  There are hundreds of little nuggets of wisdom and special memories of precious moments I shared with him that will live forever in my heart.  In every dream I ever have come true, I will be thankful to him for inspiring me to have the courage to be a dreamer. 

Precious Final Moments With Grampa

There is a room in grampa and grama’s house that we call the “fireplace room.”  It is on the lower level of the house and has a fantastic wood burning fireplace.  We have had a lot of family get-togethers, cook-outs, holidays and all sorts of good times in that room.  Grampa built it as an addition to the house quite a few years back (maybe 15ish years ago).  That’s where I’m writing from today.

 

Yesterday morning, my grampa, one of the most special people I will ever have the pleasure of knowing, passed away.  He had been in bad health for over two years and it was finally his time to be at peace.  I got the call the day before that I really needed to come and see him.  That was on Friday around noon.  I immediately packed up at the office, got in the car and headed out towards the nursing home.  It is an hour-long drive so I had some time to send out some texts and make some calls to a couple of close friends. 

I arrived and was the only one there with him which I knew would be a really nice one on one time with him.  My uncle had just left shortly before I got there and would return later on.  The nurses brought in a cart with lemonade, iced tea and some snacks for any visitors who came.  I knew then that this was definitely not a promising sign.  A few nurses came in and talked with me, telling me this was the end this time.  They had no way of saying how long it would be, but almost definitely not more than a few days. 

He woke up briefly when I came in and said, “Hi Ashley.  Turn that heat down.”  So I quickly complied and turned the heat down and cracked the window to get some fresh, cool air in the room.  It was an odd request since he is normally chilly, but I didn’t question it. 

I sat a wheelchair next to grampa’s bed and grabbed a pillow from the couch.  I put the pillow on the bed rail, held his hand and fell asleep there by his side.

I’m not sure how long I slept, but a couple of nurses woke me up when they came in to give him his medicine and change the dressings on his legs.  It was then that we found out we couldn’t get him to wake up.  He was still breathing and his vitals were relatively stable, but nothing would get him to come around. 

A hospice nurse who had taken care of him in the past came by to visit and talked me through what I could expect and also gave me a booklet with a section circled that was labeled, “Hours to one – two days.”  I didn’t think I needed or wanted to read it, but I did eventually read it and was glad I did.

After a while, my uncle and cousin came in.  Shortly after, grama came in.  She didn’t know what was going on yet, but she sure knew when she walked into the room and looked at all of us.

We had a few other visitors as the afternoon wore on including more of my cousins and my aunt.  Around 7:00, grama left to go home and get some rest.  I (in true Ashley fashion) refused to leave.  One of my wonderful friends went to my house, packed me a bag with three days’ worth of clothing and stuff and drove it all the way out to the nursing home for me.  I had absolutely no intention of leaving that nursing home until grampa took his last breath.  My friend who brought my things said, “I pity the person who tries to get you to leave.”

I sat up with grampa for a while, just holding his hand and talking to him now and then even though he couldn’t respond, telling him that I loved him and wouldn’t leave him.

I made a bed on the little loveseat in the room and slept well for three hours at a time.   He was to have a dose of morphine for the immense pain he was in every three hours.  I set alarms on my phone to go off every three hours to make sure the nurses didn’t forget.  They wouldn’t have forgotten, but I was determined to be on top of making sure he was as comfortable as possible. 

During one medicine wake up, he roused a bit, which made me clumsily jump up from my makeshift bed to get by his bedside.  I said, “Hi grampa.”  And he replied, “Hi Ashley.”  Throughout the night, he had a few more moments like this where he could get out a word or two.  It was obvious he wanted to speak more, but he just couldn’t. 

I woke up for his 6:00am dose of morphine and only lightly dozed after that.  By 7:30am I started wondering if I should get up or go back to sleep until 9:00.  I knew it would be a long day regardless of what happened so I reasoned that sleeping until 9:00 was a good idea.  Of course, my heart overruled my reason and I felt like I should get up and clean up the room in case any visitors began to come around 9:00. So I did.  I busied myself with cleaning the room up and the nursing home brought by a nice breakfast around 8:00.

Grampa was pretty active in the morning.  He spoke a few full sentences.  Not about anything in particular, but he spoke and was fairly aware.  In the book the hospice nurse had given me, it said that often times a person will have a surge of energy just before they pass.  I knew this must be it.  I texted my uncle and let him know.  I didn’t know if this meant there were minutes or a day or what, but I recognized this was a change.

I started to sit down in the recliner next to the bed and read, but something prompted me to go sit next to grampa and pay attention to him.  I don’t know if he awakened a bit or if he was coughing or what it was.  I really have no idea.  I was still only half awake, but I went to sit by him.  I sat by his side and held his hand and once again told him how much I loved him and that I wouldn’t leave him.  As minutes went by, it crossed my mind to say that over and over, but my heart told me to just be quiet and treasure the moment.  He already knew. 

As I watched him, there came a moment that I knew was going to be his last.  I had a brief moment of denial and question, but as I listened to his slowing breath and watched his face, I was certain.  I felt the tears begin to fall down my face and the feeling of sorrow creep in as I watched his chest rise and fall for the last time and his eyes completely close.  I sat for a few moments in sheer amazement before putting my head on his chest and checking for a pulse for confirmation.  When I knew for sure there was nothing, I looked at the clock and noted the time, 8:43am. 

I remember sobbing and gasping and continuing to hold his hand.  I remember my tears soaking in to his hospital gown as I cried with my head on his chest.  I remember standing up and pacing back and forth while running my fingers through my hair, then pulling my hair.  I remember grabbing hold of the chair and bed to get myself to stand still.  I remember simply not knowing what do or how to handle so many emotions all at once.  Most of all, I remember how thankful I felt and I remember saying it out loud in between sobs.  Ever since he has been in bad health, I’ve known that I wanted more than anything in the world to be there with him when he passed away.  I was so thankful I was there, holding his hand and watching him as he let go of life. 

I finally sat down beside him once more and stilled my body.  I took hold of his hand and quickly realized that his body had such little relevance to me.  It was an incredible and unexpected revelation.  I really thought I would want to remain close to his body for a long time, but it must be because I watched him let go that my heart knew with absolute certainty, he was far more with me in my heart than physically in that room.  It was a surprise, but a relief.  Everything suddenly felt so peaceful, so ok.  I was still hurting and sad, but much more calm and just truly ok. 

So now, 37 hours have passed without my grampa, but I’ve found a moment of solitude here in grampa’s favorite room, the fireplace room.  It has been snowing for a couple of hours and there was no firewood, so I picked up almost every fallen branch in the yard and broke them down into pieces that would fit in the fireplace to heat the room.  As I was picking up the branches and slamming my foot down on some of the bigger ones, essentially just making a fool of myself trying to break branches that were far too big for my strength and I realized that if grampa was watching me from heaven right then, he was probably laughing at me.  I’ve had to get up a few times while writing this and bring armloads of branches in just to keep it going, but like so much else, it just feels ok.  I’m sure grampa’s awfully happy I’m staying warm by a fire on this snowy evening, here in his room, the one he built with so much love.

Grampa's Great Escape

On Monday my phone rang and I saw it was the nursing home where my grampa lives.  Of course I immediately had a feeling of concern wash over me, wondering if he was ill or injured or goodness knows what.  To my surprise, the nurse on the other end of the line informed me that grampa told them he was moving back home that day!  She asked me if I knew anything about that or if I could approve it.

For those of you who aren't aware, grampa has been struggling with his health for probably close to two years now.  He is 78 years old and there have been multiple times he has been rushed to the hospital and the doctors have told us he isn't going to make it.  His organs have shut down and are beyond repair (or so we've been told).  He goes between home, nursing homes and hospitals every few months.  His heart has only been able to pump at about 20% for well over a year now.  We've been told time and time again that people with less than 40% often struggle to even carry on a conversation.  Grampa has managed to run the backhoe, lean down into a well house, make his bed, dress and ready himself each day and even walk around WalMart.  Our family as well as the medical staff who have worked with him are fascinated by his strength.

The last time he went into the hospital, the ER doctor pretty much assured us he would not make it through the next few days.  It was basically medically impossible for him to be alive in the condition he was in.  When his regular doctor came in the next morning, I asked him to be direct with me and tell me if we should even attempt to plan where he will go when he gets out of the hospital or if it is likely he will never leave that hospital.  His response was, "If it was anyone else, I would have my doubts.  But (your grampa) has shocked us time and time again and keeps on going."

That was three months ago.  And now, he has built his strength and independence back up to a point where he feels that he could move back home with grama.  It's incredible!

Everything got approved and I went down yesterday morning to pick up grama and take her into town to get everything grampa would need to come home.  Then we went over to the nursing home to get grampa.  It was a precious sight when I opened the door to his room.  All of his belongings were neatly packed in trash bags and laid out on his bed.  He was sitting in his chair just waiting.  He didn't know exactly when we would arrive, but he was ready.  No telling how long he'd been ready.  He was in his recliner, but his feet weren't propped up.  He had his shoes on.  The TV was off.  He was just waiting for this joyous moment he'd looked forward to and worked so hard to get to.  This was his dream come true.

The staff at the nursing home have been such a blessing to grampa and our entire family.  It's always a warm welcome when I go in.  Many of the nurses know me by name, as does the administrator.  They have gone above and beyond time and time again to meet grampa's needs and even do things that are a little extra special for him.  One of the nurses brought a cart down to his room and helped me load his things. The administrator called out to me from several feet away behind a desk with a big smile and a wave.  It was an incredibly joyous time.

As grampa took his small, slow steps with his cane helping him along, he had lots of interactions between his room and the exit.  He talked to, hugged, waved goodbye and thanked everyone in sight.  The nurses, aides, residents and staff.  Looking back on it now, it feels like a movie scene.  That glorious moment when all you've worked so hard for becomes reality.  And there is love and gratitude all around for the folks who've helped you get to where you are.

We all went out to lunch and then headed home.  The whole time, he was talking about all these ideas he had.  Things he wanted to do, things he wanted to buy, how he planned to achieve those things.  I'm in absolute awe of this man who defies all odds and simply never stops dreaming.

He Believes In Me

Grampa

I went down to the lake late in the day and visited with Grampa and Grama.  Grampa was in an exceptionally cheery mood today.  He "had his talkers on" as Grama would say.  It seems every time I visit he has seen something or someone really out of the ordinary and tells me, he thinks I could or should do the same thing.  Today's story was about a man on a horse that was "pulled over" by a police officer outside of the restaurant they were eating at earlier in the week.  Apparently this guy was travelling to Missouri on horseback.  He was clean and friendly and had a sleeping bag with him.  That was just the way he was travelling.  When Grampa finished telling me about it, he said, "I told your grandma, if Ashley had a horse she'd be doing that too."  He went on to tell me how I could make it work and find places to sleep.

I realized something after listening to yet another crazy story of something he believes I could or would do.  He is the reason I am the way I am.  He is the reason I dream so big and dare to be adventurous   The first time I remember him flat out telling me to do something crazy was in 2004.  After an extremely harsh breakup with the man I was engaged to at the time, Grampa told me I should go get on my motorcycle and just take a trip by myself.  Just get away for a while.

I didn't end up taking the motorcycle, but I did get in the car and just start driving.  I remember trying to decide if I should head north, south, east or west.  Anyone who knows me wouldn't be surprised to find out that I decided to head south.  About 4 hours into my trip my cell phone rang. It was my mom wanting to know if I wanted to get some lunch.  I told her I couldn't because I was in Terre Haute, Indiana (I lived in the northwest suburbs of Chicago at the time).  She flipped out (of course) and I told her she should talk to Grampa and ask him what I was up to.  :-)

I was on the road for around 5 or 6 days.  I went all sorts of places in 6 different states, including Graceland in Memphis, TN.  It was the first time in my life I'd really done something all on my own.  I remember the day I was supposed to get married.  Instead, I was sitting out on the steps of the run down motel I was staying at in Memphis and smoking a cigarette (yes, I used to be a smoker) and I met two middle aged women and had a great conversation with them that really helped change my perspective.  I don't really remember what they told me, but I remember them and how powerful the experience was of meeting them.

Side note:  My love for Elvis movies was born in that hotel.  Channel 3 had Elvis movies 24 hours a day.  I discovered it very late at night and "Frankie and Johnny" had just started.  I was exhausted, but couldn't turn it off.  I stayed up almost all night watching one movie after another.  

Also on that trip, I remember getting caught very near to a tornado.  I met a family in a restaurant parking lot where I pulled over.  It was the only thing for many miles.  I'm not sure how far it would have been to a town.  The restaurant was in a modular building, so it would provide no safe haven from the storm.  The family was in a pickup truck and was pulling a trailer with a bunch of quads on it.  There were three younger boys riding in the trailer between the quads because there was no room in the cab of the truck.  They were getting pelted with the hail, rain and wind.  I've never again seen a sky like I did that day.  I have some great pictures of it somewhere.  Anyway, I got out of my car and went up to the parents to offer their boys shelter in my car.  I think they thought I was crazy, but they let them get in.  We knew, of course, if the tornado dropped near us we'd have to make a run for the ditch, but at least the boys got out of the storm.  Those boys were soaked, but so thankful to come in out of the storm.  I had beach towels in the car too so they got to dry off a bit.

That whole trip was like a mission to conquer the world for me.  To find my inner strength.  To prove to myself that I could survive just fine on my own.  Grampa believed I could do it.  That was all I needed to believe it too.  This all took place before Grampa and I were as extremely close as we are now.  That was where it all began.

There is a great quote by Zig Ziglar that really hits home for me:

"A lot of people have gone further than they thought they could because someone else thought they could." 

Grampa was that "someone" for me.  And now I believe I can accomplish anything I can dream up... because I know he would believe I can.

Love, Pain and the Whole Crazy Thing (Christmas Style)

I LOVE decorating my house for Christmas.  Always have.  I can remember the Christmas tree we had when I was growing up.  It was an old school one that had a big pole with color coded holes around it at different heights.  The branches were separate and had a wire the bent down at a 90 degree angle which was painted in colors to match the holes on the upright pole.  You would spend an hour sorting all the branches and trying to discern the blue paint from the green paint on the ends of the branches.  Each color was a different size of branch so you could eventually figure out which were which.  I loved sorting the branches all the way around the dining room, kitchen, living room, hallway... where ever there was some floor space.  Then, with all the love and happiness in the world, I would put the largest branches on first, working from the bottom of the tree all the way up.  

Once they were on, it was time to fluff everything up.  With my arms and fingers getting poked and scratched by the artificial pine needles, I'd sing along to a Christmas cassette or CD (usually Garth Brooks, over and over again).  I'd bend each wire branch into the perfect position.  It would take at least one full day, if not the whole weekend for me to decorate mom and dad's house.  Most things had their place.  Mom had a layout for the Christmas decor, so I went along with it.  It was more about making the house beautiful and magical looking than being creative. It was the warm, fuzzy feeling I got from the season.

About five years ago, I started inheriting more and more Christmas decor from a number of sources (grandparents, parents, etc.).  I had a very large house and was married at that time.  Most everyone was getting to a point where they didn't want to do as much decorating anymore and I was the obvious first choice to call to off load anything they didn't want.  :-)

One day, my Grandma Leavelle asked if I had a theme or a color or anything that I wanted to focus on.  I really hadn't considered that.  I was just collecting whatever I could and finding places to put it all.  I started to search my mind and my heart for what it was that I loved the most and wanted to make the theme of my decor.  I thought about snowmen, silver, blue, angels, Santa Claus, Snow, White, Disney... all kinds of things.  And finally, it hit me.  I remembered how much I loved putting up the tree.  Spending time making it perfect.  Adding lights, garland and ornaments.  And most of all, I loved laying underneath it and looking up at the lights twinkling through the branches.  At mom and dad's house, there was a heat vent in the floor along the back side of the Christmas tree.  I'd lay down under the tree and put a blanket over myself and the vent and have the most warm and cozy place in the house.

That was it!  Trees.  I loved Christmas trees.  When we bought the big house, I got a second Christmas tree to put in a place that just seemed to be the perfect place for a little tree.  The next year, I started to have dreams that many would consider to be crazy.  I dreamed of a "forest" of Christmas trees inside my house!  It would have a little white picket fence and a snow covered ground.  Each tree would have a theme.  There would be snowmen and it would be gorgeous!  

I started measuring and planning and collecting Christmas trees from family members who didn't want to put theirs up anymore.  I bought a couple more when I found them on sale too.  I drilled out some 2x4's to make a base to stand the "fence" up in.  I even grabbed two tree shaped trellises that I had grown clematis on in the summer and wrapped them in lights and green garland to create two more trees.  We moved the furniture to make room for this grand display and I started setting up.

The first year there were seven trees and two snowmen in the forest.  It was stunning.  People thought I was crazy.  I never cared.  It became my favorite place to be.  I'd sit in that room almost every minute I was home.  I'd never turn on the house lights.  The twinkle and glow from the tree lights gave off more than enough light and was the most gorgeous glow.  It filled me with joy, love and peace to be there.

The first year

The next year or two years later (I can't remember which year is which), I would move to a new (much smaller) house after my divorce.  The lack of space wasn't about to take away my forest or dampen my spirit.  I figured out that if I moved the furniture out of the living room and made the forest a little more condensed, I could still fit all the trees in.  With a little re-working, the forest was back!

The first year in the new house

I added birdies decorating the trees that year

This year, I thought it was time to take it to a whole new level.  A level that would make many really worry about my sanity and gain me the title of "Christmas Enthusiast."  At the beginning of October I began working on a secret project.  I posted several things to social media, but would never tell anyone what it was or post anything to give it away.  I worked for over a month on it in every free moment I had.  It was a project all my own.  I took no assistance or advice from anyone.  I was on a mission to conquer the world in a way.  

There were some bumps in the road along the way including electrocution, bumps on head, stubbed toes, cuts, scrapes and a black eye.  It was all part of the experience.  I loved every minute of it.  Even the painful ones.  Go ahead and call me crazy.  You won't be the first or the last.  

In the end, I got it completed and installed and it is amazing.  It's a log cabin facade with a front porch that sits in my living room, among the Christmas trees.