To Grandma

You always spoke of milestones. You always said there’s a first time for everything. Well, like usual, you are right. This time, on this day, you aren’t here for us to share the laughter or sadness for such occasions.

88. Would have been, but not.

With all honesty, I can’t say you were gone too soon. This family was blessed to have you for so many years. And we all would selfishly love to still have you here. As you would also often say, it’s not meant to be. For as many years as you reminisced about your mom, dad, and other friends and family through the years, we know you’ve been ready for quite some time.

For us, though we miss you; all those reunions help ease the pain of not being able to hear your sweet voice, to see your beautiful smile, or to get the pleasure of sharing good news with you. You were our biggest fan.

Today is your first birthday we will have to celebrate without you here on Earth. Gone are the days of reciprocal renditions of singing happy birthday to each other on our special days. Gone are the days of receiving the love you gave us the other 364 days of the year. Despite all that, we were so lucky to get many lifetimes of love to last us well beyond when our time on Earth is up.

I am so fortunate that technology will allow me to forever save the voicemail you left me on my birthday last year. Anytime I play it I can’t help but cry. It elicits so many years of everything you meant to me and the rest of our family. Fortune truly shined on me to have you as my Grandma.

I’m not sure how other funerals go, but my grandma got two eulogies for hers. My uncle and I wrote and recited our own eulogies for this special lady. It was the biggest honor of my life, and we both did a great job.

Since I can no longer call her on the phone or visit her anymore, I will publish the eulogy I wrote for her on her birthday today.

Happy birthday, Grandma. At the seat of the card table your friends and family have been saving for you, I hope you have gotten many Royal Flushes. I also hope you and Grandpa have been dancing enough to catch up on over two decades of separation. I love and miss you more than I can find the words to describe it.

For Grandma

My name is Craig Elbe, Florence’s first grandchild. Oftentimes I’ve called myself her fifth child as that’s how she made me feel. She simply was another mother. Her sixth and youngest grandchild, Connor, can say the same thing. Even if there were twenty of us grandchildren, I’m confident her motherly love wouldn’t be diluted.

My first memories with my grandma, I’m told, involved me being very spoiled. I was simply too young to recall the bumming around I did with my grandma and whoever else was with us. There were many trips to many stores and restaurants, with a lot of time and love and money spent on me. Though those memories are not vivid for me, the genuine love she had for me was instilled and never left me.

Being filled with so much love before my conscious memory took hold removed any impetus to do anything crazy when I struggled with my confidence as I got older. My grandma set the tone for how to love your friends and family. She loved and cared for us all so much to the point of us all having an agreement to not tell her of any bad news until the situation improved enough to tell her. The toll bad news would take on her was too much to fathom putting her through it by seeking the solace her love and support provided without fail.

Very early in her life, my grandma found herself to be the peacemaker. Seeing both sides to situations informed her deep sense of empathy. She felt everything so much more than most people. For example, any time she’d read a card or note from one of us, she would tear up on the second or third sentence that expressed love and gratitude to her.

Whether it was just her and me or a room of people, I always found it entertaining how she’d run through the progression of her kids and grandkids before she’d land on the person whose attention she sought.

My grandma was the epitome of a people person. She seemed to find a way to the hearts of many people she interacted with. Her spunky personality and sense of humor was adored by all, from social gatherings to anyone who cared for her at any type of medical facility she was admitted to. Her smile and laugh could brighten any small or vast space, and I could always count on her warmth when life was cold to me.

She had many clichés as punchlines for jokes or to blow off some steam, and it was quite entertaining how she’d say them all like it was the very first time.

My grandma strived to see the good in everyone she met and saw. It wasn’t always easy for her but the effort was there despite evidence some people didn’t deserve her good heart.

Telephone conversations with grandma were always a joy. Most of the time, just saying goodbye was another conversation itself!

Walking into her home was a guessing game of what she was cooking or baking or canning. To this day I’ve not been able to find anything that was as good as her tomato juice or pickles. Anything else lacked the simple but essential ingredient of grandma’s love. What the perfect placebo!

Her refrigerator and walls were covered in pictures of the family, and she always had film in her camera for more moments to capture. What couldn’t fit on the fridge or walls found homes in the various photo albums she accumulated over the years.

While my sister and I were in school, grandma would bring us home when our parents weren’t able to. I’m sure she feared the worst for us walking home, especially once I got to high school and my sister was still in middle school. But, she didn’t want us to be home alone either. She was always my reliable ride to work and home when needed, and was always curious who I saw that day that she knew!

I started playing drums when I was a junior in high school, January of 2000 to be precise. Most days after school I had lots of pent up ambition or anger, so I went downstairs to play my drums. After a few months of practice, I was able to play along to some songs. When I’d begin a playing session, I consistently used the song “Home Sweet Home” by Motley Crue to warm up.

One day, after playing for a while, I came upstairs for a break. My grandma asked me about that song with the piano part in the beginning. I had no idea she was even paying attention! After some thought I remembered it was the first song, “Home Sweet Home” by Motley Crue. Right then and there, she told me she wanted me to play that song on my drums at her funeral! I couldn’t believe she made such a request, but I agreed to it then. It was the first time I felt like I was performing for someone. From that day forward, I always had a special bit of nerves while playing that song, even when she wasn’t there. Grandma being my first audience member seemed very appropriate. She was our family’s biggest cheerleader.

During the summer of 2000, I put myself in a situation where I had nowhere to go. Grandma was nearing the end of her 60s but without hesitation took me. Well, she may have hesitated a little because of my behavior at the time, but it wasn’t apparent. Grandpa had passed away just over four years ago at the time, so it was just her and me. Our only argument was about the length of my hair. She was upset I wanted to grow my hair really long, when all I wanted to do was look cool playing drums with long hair. It took me some years to realize this, but my grandma was just trying to protect me from the judgmental world.

The two months I lived with her finally started to break my rebellious nature. I learned what respect was, and that how I was treating my parents was very wrong. We were close before then, but her taking me in forged a special bond. Today, I’m proud to be the man I am. Those two months with grandma were the beginning stages of me realizing what it was to be a man of principle and character, and she was the only one able to truly reach me during my rebellious teen years.

At that time, she was receiving supplements and other household items from a mail order company called Melaleuca. Also at the time, I became a huge fan of the band Metallica. I had some tapes of some of their concerts and would play them while living with grandma. I never expected her to like the music so I only played the tapes with her permission. Out of the blue, one day she asked me if I was going to watch any Melaleuca. I was so confused for a couple seconds till I realized she wanted to watch Metallica with me! I had no idea she was even remotely interested in such music, and I doubt she really was. She was just being supportive of what I enjoyed and didn’t want to hinder my enjoyment.

The grace and class of how she carried herself was something to behold. Sure, she’d have her sad or weak moments that she’d confide in her close confidants, but she did the best she could with what she had and knew at the time.

Her frugality and tenacity was on display during one time I was visiting with her. It was in her last months of living alone. She noticed her telephone bill went up by about 8 dollars, so she called them up to have them reinstate the previous sale she had before the price hike. By the time I arrived to spend time with her that day, she proudly told me she succeeded in getting the sale price back. She said, and I loosely quote, “It took me till the third person till I got what I wanted, but it’s going to save me about $100 a year!”

While grandpa was living, he and my grandma did the “casino tour” of Wisconsin the short time he was retired before he got sick and passed away. We always knew when they hit the Royal Flush when they would show up at our house with some extra money for my parents, and we knew they were on their way to our other aunts and uncles to give them their share.

Their generosity was apparent, and she continued the trend after grandpa died. I became her casino partner some years later, and she always shared with me what she won but wouldn’t let me share what I won. All she’d let me do was pay for our lunch or dinner.

When I’d be out and about with grandma to bring her to some appointments or at the casino, people would often remark about how nice of a grandson I was to be with grandma. That annoyed me a lot. I genuinely enjoyed spending time with grandma and it wasn’t obligatory. I just wish I spent more time with her.

My grandma was very selfless and never made anything about herself. All she wanted in return was to be grateful and not take her for granted.

Recently, before she passed away, I went to her old house, then her old apartment. I parked for just a minute in each place. I wanted to soak up, one last time while she was still alive, all the recollections of days gone by of all the fun we had. While the memories were very present for me, sadly, those places just lacked the magic once present when my grandma called those places home.

This day is a combination of sadness and happiness for me. We all knew this day was coming, and I’m very grateful we were given a lot of notice, so to speak. The last time I saw her was while she was still pretty good and remembered the good times we shared together. I offered my last love and gratitude. The last time I looked at her face she had the loving smile and grace we’ve all been privy to.

For today’s service, I wanted to do something special for my grandma. Besides the anecdotes I’ve shared, I chose this outfit instead of the customary black colors for a funeral. These are the colors of the house she called home for over 50 years, and was the place she took me in during that summer of 2000. This is my tribute to that time in our lives where we became closer and for what she taught me with love and by example. This jacket is also the last, or one of the last, suit jackets she purchased for my grandpa before he passed away. She gave it to me many years ago and I’ve never worn it till today, and won’t ever again.

As the years have gone on, I’ve not felt right about bringing my drums and playing “Home Sweet Home.” Instead, I’d like recite the lyrics of the song most applicable to her:

“I’m on my way, I’m on my way, home sweet home. Tonight, tonight I’m on my way. Just set me free, home sweet home.”

Grandma, now that you’re home with your parents, sisters, grandpa and the rest of your deceased friends and family, I want to tell you it was an honor being your grandson. The way you introduced me to people with pride, even in your last days while you struggled for air, meant the world to me then and always will. Thank you for everything, and until next time, I love you.

Word To Ponder: Ullage

Today, I’ve selected the noun ullage. It has only two meanings. First, it is the amount of liquid within a container that is lost, as by leakage, during shipment or storage. Is also is the amount, by which a container, such as a bottle, cask, or tank, falls short of being full.

It struck me in a sense that the lost liquid, container, shipment, or storage can be metaphorical for an array of life applications.

How does this relate to you? Is it merely letting life get too busy to remember everything, showing evidence of a life out of balance? Is it losing out on important relationships due to selfishly holding everything in for yourself, and the best of life passes you by and makes you its ullage?

Another interpretation could be selflessly retaining all the important priorities life brings without regard to materialistic leanings. With that approach, the rest becomes ullages and doesn’t hold that person back from living life to their fullest. That perspective is either instilled early on or learned the hard way over time.

There are other metaphors a ullage could be. The big picture is identifying what to retain and what to dispose of. Having higher standards will certainly help you know what a ullage is in your life.

No matter how big or small, deceptive or obvious, knowing what a ullage is and when to release it from your figurative container can’t be understated. It must be done before it overtakes whatever situation it will hinder. A ullage could be a great first impression and that’s what is remembered instead of the current poor follow through.

Let’s not forget the subconscious parts of ullages. What does a good or bad ullage remind you of, compelling you to keep it in your life? A high degree of self-awareness is always needed to minimize your subconscious controlling your life. Stay in touch with yourself. Starting and keeping a journal of any kind is a great way to begin, so long as you keep showing up for yourself daily.

Goals are great, but a system around a goal or goals is the best way to get there. The best system will help you to know when a ullage is present and when to let it out.

A great life is lean, so where will you trim the fatty ullage?

Word To Ponder: Blunderbuss

This word strikes me in a humorous manner. It is noun with two meanings. The first is as a short musket of wide bore and flaring muzzle, formerly used to scatter a shot at close range. The second meaning is a person regarded as clumsy and stupid.

Expanding a bit, this also got me thinking about self-awareness in the sense of following someone’s footsteps.  Many years ago, a son would want to follow in his father’s footsteps. At the time it was all they knew and admired what they saw the man they looked up to the most. But, that is quite limiting.

Simply having lineage in line of work has nothing to do with what someone is meant to do. There are also many successful examples of people who took over for their parents in a specific line of work. It could either be an entire company or just a job in the same company as their parent or a similar company. Sometimes that youthful admiration sticks, other times people just evolve into what they’d rather be, or what they are meant to do.

For clarification, When I say success, it’s not just monetarily. Success isn’t just about money, it’s about fulfillment and positive contribution to society.

I personally know people on both sides of the equation. Some embrace the pressure, other wilt under it.

Another example is a person who tests at genius levels at a young age. Almost immediately, parents feel compelled to thrust that child into advanced classes. They may highly suggest/pressure them to become a lawyer, doctor, or something else highly acclaimed with high earning potential. Testing high in academics has nothing to do with mental acuity and emotional intelligence. The entire person ought to be considered, not just what they can do as an employee.

I will always encourage people to figure their true selves out. This world has been full of too many people filling roles and surviving instead of being their best at being themselves and thriving.

A blunderbuss of a person shouldn’t  handle a gun, nor should the son of a politician come near politics when their heart believes in honesty and doing the right thing first and always. A girl whose mother was a housewife and a homemaker shouldn’t aspire to be the same when she has tremendous leadership skills and problem solving ability under pressure.

It’s not to say there isn’t such a thing or can’t be an honest politician, or an excellent housewife that can lead the charge and think under pressure. Those skills shouldn’t be limited just to what they have seen. Rather, thinking and expending the scope and scale of what is in your immediate perspective can yield wonderful and unthinkable results. The least you can do for yourself is try.

In the process, you’ll learn more about yourself than you knew prior. Even if you go back to what you initially knew and thought, it’s not a failure.  A failure is never a person, it’s merely an event. In the end, you will be that much better and balanced a person.

Words To Ponder: Several, Few, Many, Moment

Several a word defined in more than one way, but I want to focus on just one. It’s probably the most used meaning, as a number more than two or three but not many.

Since I was young, I always thought several meant a number around seven. And when I’d hear few, I always assumed about four. Through all its definitions, a few basically means a small number more than one.

When many is attributed to anything, it’s meant to be a large number of some sort.

When a moment passes by, it’s not what can be captured by a stopwatch. Instead it is just a brief, indefinite interval of time.

It has always bothered me why we use such words that aren’t definite. Of course, there are times and places to use words that aren’t exact. Too often though, I’ve noticed people embrace this wishy-washy language.

Is it fear of committing to something, or is it laziness? It’s worth looking into, and being more aware of, how we speak and express ourselves. I include myself in this, and understand how difficult it can be to nail down specifics.

We live in a click bait and “need it now” society that tolerates lacks of detail and follow through. Where did this lack of patience come from? Why can’t we take the time to enjoy the present and let what needs to happen on its own volition?

Recently, I saw a commercial for older folks dealing with hearing loss. My brain expected a normally fast commercial, but it kept going on. Then I realized the target demographic was for an older generation of people that don’t have limited attention spans. That was a small but profound reminder of how far we’ve fallen.

Life is way too short, so make sure to enjoy everything you’re given. Be present, while factoring in when it’s most appropriate to look ahead and look back. As they say it baseball, it’s a marathon, not a sprint!

Word To Ponder: Prententious

Pretentious is used three ways. First, it is for claiming that or behaving as if one is important or deserving of merit when such is not the case. Second, it used for showing or betraying an attitude of superiority. Third, it is marked by an extravagant or presumptuous outward show; ostentatious.

Here’s my relationship with the word pretentious. The first time I ever hear the word was from Lars Ulrich, Metallica’s drummer and self-described Metallica historian. It was during the week Lars was hosting the VH1 show The List sometime in 2000 where he said someone or something was pretentious. I had begun playing the drums earlier that year and Lars was my biggest influence to want to start up the instrument, so I paid attention to his words.

I was also entering adulthood and the meaning of pretentious had been in my subconscious all my life. Once Lars said the word, I didn’t need to look up what pretentious meant; the base word pretend was all I needed to have it resonate with me.

I’ve always been able to identify false authority figures and other forms of insincerity. It was there when anyone tried to exert their insecurities on me. There was a lot of verbal and mental abuse I had to endure when I was seen as an easy target or pawn.

Creating a false bravado in order to gain something has been around forever. Conning people of their minds and money, or both, will always be present. But why are there so many examples of pretentious behavior over the years? It doesn’t really need to exist, but yet again it does.

Needing a bad day once in a while to appreciate a great day is necessary for perspective. If you come across a person who says all the right things and sounds good, are they just trying to sell you on something they aren’t? Are they falsifying an image of what they want to be and/or what they want you to see? Or, are they truly as great as they are coming across? Is it too good to be true?

Assuming everyone is a liar or con artist until proven otherwise is no way to live. There is rarely ever a black and white situation. Live in the gray and learn as you go.

As I’ve aged, I have become sharper at recognizing insincerities everywhere. Social media is where a lot of it has migrated and is permeated, but it is just one of many current land mines of pretentiousness.

Staying nimble to what you know versus what you don’t is a solid solution. For the sake of survival on the way to truly thriving in life, you should attain a healthy ego and humility. It can be exhausting to attain and is more difficult to maintain, but is worthy of the sweat and residual equity.

Word To Ponder: Sexagenarian

A sexagenarian is a person that is between 60 and 70 years old. It is also used as an adjective as being 60 years old or between theages of 60 and 70 years old. A second adjective definition is of being related to a sexagenarian.

What caught me with this word is not so much ever hearing it, but wondering why it even exists. Or why is has to. I mean, really, does everything need a label? Can’t a person in their respective generation just be called that age or range instead of a label? It’s quite disheartening, and reminds me of something from my past.

One of my ex-girlfriends thought I was on the autism spectrum where Asperger’s Syndrome is. She and I had been living together for over two years at that point. One of her friends who is a therapist more or less diagnosed me with Asperger’s after a few couples nights out and observing me in other social settings.

My girlfriend was convinced I needed an actual diagnosis from a doctor who didn’t know me so she could understand how to “deal”with me. At that point, again over two years, we knew each other quite well and what made the other tick. She became obsessed about getting that label. We both knew the relationship was struggling and why it was. Labeling me wasn’t going to solve anything.

In short, we just stopped caring enough to meet each other’s needs. The mutual deprivation bred resentment and straw grasping. An Asperger’s diagnosis for me was her straw, whereas mine was feebly trying to replicate the early days when it was too late for her to care. We eventually came to the realization there wasn’t any turning back, and we simply grew apart after a grand total of three years. Thankfully, we parted ways amicably.

These days, there is a lot of generation bashing. Millennials garner much criticism that’s too unfair to pin on a span of time where the only commonality is when people were born.

Everything that warrants criticism starts and ends with culture; the culture a person was raised in and the culture the person puts themselves in as a free choosing adult.

All people come to a place in their lives when they realize their parents had to wing it and made the best choice they could at the time. When hindsight shows a better option existed, it’s up to that person to not resent their parents for any of that. You must take ownership of your life to live your best life, no matter the head start you were or were not given.

Some people can’t overcome the greatness of their parents, real or imagined, and become crippled by it and settle for a less than fulfilling life. Others don’t broaden their scope to see the bigger world that is there outside the realm their parents showed them.

Be careful what you judge and desire to label. My examples are just two of way too many. There will always be more than meets what you’re privy to. In this short attention span reality we live in, it’s never been more important.

It’s also never been more important to know yourself as best you can to withstand whatever judgement comes your way. Becoming something you’re not out of fear of judgment or influence of it serves nobody well, especially yourself.

Copyright © 2019 Craig Elbe·