A Life After Death

Today is my grandfather's 80th birthday.
Well...i mean, it would be today, if well, you know, he was still alive. But this post is not to be all "grandpop reflective;" it is instead a post about nothing much- just wanted to comment that my grandmom did not once mention that it was his birthday today. She has forgotten.

She wrote the date on her check at CVS.

She mentioned multitudes of times that tomorrow is my birthday (we've shared a birthday for well...the last 20 years) and even bought me a card and wrote out a check for me

She had mentioned for weeks before this that her husband's birthday was coming up...and yet today she has forgotten. I'm kind of sad and kind of glad she did...

I was a little nervous she'd catch on when the guy from Peruzzi's called and left a message on the answering machine "to be one of the first to wish you a happy birthday" for my grandpop, but instead, since Peruzzi man did not mention grandpop's name, she assumed he was calling to wish me a happy birthday.

Go figure...I've got Peruzzi men, whose car I don't even own, wishing me a happy birthday. Cool!
It's not that she didn't mention my g-pop today (she mentions him everyday), but it never clicked that today was his day.

Last year at this time I was in England.

I called my grandpop from the phone in the hallway. It probably cost me 5 pounds to call him the way that those phone cards ate my minutes and my money. I'm really glad. That was the last time I heard his voice. Weird. He hadn't realized it was his birthday when he woke up because he had thought it was only the 22nd. I know how it is to forget which day of the week it is...that's why I missed a Spanish assignment last week. My grandmom took the phone to talk to me and yabbered endlessly about how her garden this and dinner that and blah blah blah...but then my grandpop took the phone back with his usual "dear..." and "she probably has to get going- it's long distance" and then I wished him a happy birthday and he wished me a happy birthday and then I said I love you and he said I love you and I would see him in a few months...little did I know...little did I know.

But I knew. I knew. In the back of my head I had that bad feeling in the pit of my stomach as I walked down the steps and sat on the leather couches in the living room of Flat 10. I knew. I knew my grandmom was going crazy...we'd seen it already the summer before when she started saying things like "is Jeremiah (my brother) Owen's (my father's) son?" (how funny it is that having to answer that question is so normal to me now, whereas, when she said that at this time last year, I felt sick to my stomach). I knew something was going to happen. But I kind of rubbed it off as you always feel that way when you go away...but something (some many many things) were going to happen.

And then I really knew...I really really knew something was wrong when I got my grandmom's birthday card in the mail. My grandmom always had beautiful cursive handwriting ( i mean, she's German- obviously it must be perfect). The chicken scratch I recieved in the mail was not her handwriting "Tiffie (below a scribbled out "Debbie")" and some ramblings about my call and coming home...it scared me...I remember clearly, being so excited to get mail, and then holding my card as I walked back into one of Ed Major's classes, shaking a little.

It's strange this was all a year ago. Life was different a year ago. There were marzipan cows and pigs and sheep on a blueberry cake a year ago. A carefree fall day in England...a year ago. Coffee with my friend English Hannah and a day of yarn shopping and getting a cute green top a year ago. A surprise party with all of my girlies a year ago. A magic apron...a year ago. And now...I don't know. I'm not sad or depressed that that isn't my life anymore. That was a season. This is a season. A time to laugh. A time to cry.

Tomorrow, I won't wish for things to be how they always were. I don't want them to be. I'm thankful for every single aspect of this last year. Even the horrible, scary, utterly painful parts of it. I'm thankful for who this year has made me to be...and who God has shown me He is. I wouldn't give it up for all of the yum yums or kinder buenos or marzipan animals York has to offer...

So...I better go figure out what to do with my last fifteen minutes of being a teenager...hmmmmmmmmmm...bye!

I'm going to write my persuasive speech in my speech class on why not to go to college...just kidding. But honestly...I am the worst student ever and wish someone would have talked me out of taking four online classes.

I can't even keep track of the days of the week, much less keep track of my classes...honestly. I have missed 3 spanish assignments, one because I didn't realize what day of the week it was and the other two-...welll...I can't figure out why I didn't see them. Story of my life.

Then I was going through my life thinking that the 22nd of September is Wednesday...and then the other day it hits me- OH NO! the 22nd is Monday which means I only have a few days to figure out this Guy Fawkes speech (what what represent England!)...it really stinks because I wish I had more time because this whole Gunpowder plot and history of it is really interesting and I'm trying how to figure out how to make it interesting for my audience too...I might just be a wierd person who thinks it's really cool that after 403 years the English are still burning a dummy of a guy who they caught before he blew up parliament (but the best part is that they hung him- they didn't even burn him!) and that they have a whole holiday commemorating...I mean...I have to explain why they "remember remember the fifth of November"!!!

Math is absolutely my favorite class because there's no stress- math is math. 2+2= 4 all the time!!!!

Ugh...I should have just got an evening job at Starbucks so that I would have health benefits instead of this whole college business- whose idea was this anyway?

All right...I mean, I'm spoiled to live in a country where I can get an education and everything so I shouldn't be complaining...I'm just getting used to this whole "back to school" thing after a year of "carefreeness"- if you could call it that.

Speaking of Nanny (which is the "carefreeness" i was referring to), ugh...that's the hardest part of these online classes- I'm always in the middle of trying to finally grasp some Psych concept when she starts freaking out that we don't have moisterizer or what are we going to make for dinner on Thursday three weeks from now- because obviously there's nothing in the freezer to choose from (well...other than the whole chicken, five pork roasts, 3 pork chops, chuck roast, split chicken breast, or stewing meat!!!!! honestly!!!!) and we have to know right now when I have a effective speaking quiz due in 5 minutes!!!)-

besides all this- the Germans came back yesterday after thier time in myrtle beach- so i had to clean everything up again- goodness- but they crack us up so it was all good (wow...i sound as ghetto as my brother)- and we really enjoyed thier company, but it's nice to have my room back finally be able to settle down and try to get organized.

So...I really should actually be doing my speech right now so...um...bye (which is not the way you end a speech....i think i've learned that from experience though- story of my life!)

Our time with the Germans was well spent. They left yesterday but will return next week (they're visiting my aunt in myrtle beach). It was exhausting and I really don't think I have the gift of hospitality- it sure wipes you. We literally never have company so for people from an entirely other culture and way of life to come and live in our house amidst the screaming children, well, it was different.

These Germans were SOOOO polite that it almost drove me crazy. I mean, they would wake up and actually wait for us all to sit down and eat no matter what. I was like...what? And we were walking up the steps of the Walnut Street Theater in Philadelphia and my grandmom was literally slowing down the entire line of people, but the Germans would not pass her to get up quicker. I was like, goodness, i cannot walk this slow, and I passed them all. They also really aren't into asking us about our personal lives. I'm so used to people asking me what I like to do or where I go to school or what I want to be- and they really wouldn't ask about that at all. It was sooo wierd. They understand personal space and don't want to intrude. And they kind of just would ask about American history or culture or things like that, but never about us as people- only us as Americans. It was different and it was hard to read them sometimes. BUt they were hilarious making fun of each other and laughing and talking in German and so it was good times.

We took them to Philadelphia and then the next day they were just dying to see the Amish. Honestly, these famous Amish- it's sooo funny how people are always asking about them. So they did a day out there on thier own (i had a ton of schoolwork to catch up on).

So I realized that in this last year alone I have experienced sooo many different cultures- it's crazy. I mean, first I went to Africa last summer, then England (where a few different cultures were represented), then Czech Republic, and now these Germans. I love it!

all right
i have a ton of school work to do
adios
tif

Literally, any minute now (wait! did I hear them?...no, just the neighbor's friend speeding down the road in his jeep) my grandmom's brother (Heinz- 70ish) and his sons (Thomas- pronounced toe-mas and Harold) are coming to visit.

The only problem is...um...my grandmom thinks her brother Heinz died...aye aye aye...i know. So we're all a little nervous and we've been cleaning nonstop for like weeks and our house has never been so clean. We don't have people stay with us. Ever. And so this is something new and wierd. My grandmom and I are moving upstairs to my family's part of the house and my uncle will stay in my room and his sons in my grandmom's. My mom hasn't seen her cousins in 40 years. Crazy, huh?

So hopefully when my grandmom sees her brother it will click that he's alive and well. And hopefully tomorrow we will survive touring philadelphia and new york.
It'll be fun...i think.

So Aufwiedersehn for now
(Oh, is that them? no...just the mail lady...)