I'm still here.
Been a bit busy, as you might imagine. Grandpa's memorial went well, I managed to get through my whole 2.5 page rant, which got rave reviews -- they laughed when they were supposed to laugh & they didn't fall asleep. Things are getting back to the new version of normal.
My grown-up job office has been short staffed for the last three weeks; so that's been hectic. My Business Econ professor is ticking me off, I'm glad I only have 4 classes left.
On to the positives:
I finally broke 140. After 50 weeks, yay! I'm still hoping to hit my goal of 135 by the end of my year with Jenny Craig, although if I don't, I"ll still be good -- 40 pounds is 40 pounds!
Saw X3 on Sunday afternoon with C & M -- I liked it a lot, but be sure you stick around after the credits! Had dinner with Bert Sunday night, caught up on life & such things.
Saturday, I'm driving to Cape Girardeau for a certain someone's wedding. Since I'm only expecting to know him & the family, I'm making it a single-day trip, but it promises to be fun.
Perhaps most exciting, I have a new guy in my life. Yesterday made one month since our first date. That's all I'm saying for now, stay tuned...
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
What to Say...
I've decided that it was a good thing that Grandpa wrote his own obituary. He was always the first to brag about us, but usually the last to tout his own accomplishments. His obit, in its entirety, reads as follows:
"Graf, Joseph L. May 8, 2006, age 77.
Beloved husband for 51 years of Lucille Ann (Schneider) Graf; father to Joseph C. (Anne) Graf and Cheryl A. (Mark) D'Harlingue; grandfather to 6; great-grandfather to 1; son of the late Joseph and Grace M. (House, Graf, Kraemer) Butz; brother to Charles (Marilyn) Graf.
Attended Mt. Pleasant Grade School, Cleveland High School, St. Louis Univ., Washington Univ., Bailey Tech School (Auto Mech). He was in the Air Force thirteen years, worked for Gusdorf and Sons, Prudential Ins., J.L. Distr. and as an auto mechanic, retiring in 1994.
Services: Memorial Service will be held at KUTIS SOUTH COUNTY Chapel, 5255 Lemay Ferry Rd. (at Butler Hill) Sat., May 13, 1 p.m. In lieu of flowers please contribute to the charity of your choice."
It is, as he often was, simple, to-the-point, and with minimal embellishment.
I'm working up something to say at the memorial Saturday, so I'm going to start here.
The man I called "Grandpa" was and will remain the most influential male role model in my life. From him, I learned how to pitch without throwing "like a girl." He taught me the only card trick I can still remember; although he made it much more believable than I ever could. It's thanks to him that I can occasionally recognize the voice of Old Blue Eyes, and that I know to shift to 2nd gear when going down "the hill" in winter. In his own way, he impressed upon me the importance of evaluating a person based on their abilities and character, rather than their appearance or background. Most importantly, though, he taught me how a man is supposed to treat the people he loves. As much as he teased everyone -- including Grandma, and many of you will know what I mean when I say "Joseph, you're gettin' on my last nerve!" -- he always had our best interests in mind.
Grandpa loved his family more than words can adequately describe, and he never hesitated to make sure we knew it. The last thing he said to me was how proud he was of me, and how much he loved me. That, and to be careful on my trip to North Carolina.
I know he worried about me, like he did about all of us -- I've been told that's in the "grandparent handbook" they give out when the babies are born -- right along with the "parent handbook," I'm sure. Like parents, I believe that grandparents do the best job they know how to do, and Grandpa did it well. When I was away at school, he made sure that every time I came home, my car went in for an oil change -- "you take it into Joe Bess," he'd say, "don't worry about the bill, it's taken care of," and it always was. I still have a credit card in my wallet, Grandpa gave it to me when I left for school the first time -- six years ago this Fall -- "in case of emergencies, he said, use it if you need to, we don't even need to tell your mom." I may have used it for gas or a hotel room on the drive home a few times, but when I graduated & tried to give it back, he said "go ahead & keep it, just in case." I got a real, paying, grown-up job, and he said the same thing, "just in case." Grandpa did the best to take care of the "just in cases."
He retired in '94 largely because Mom, Little Brother & I were living with him & Grams, and we couldn't find a reliable babysitter. Figuring that he'd do a better job anyway (which was usually his line of thought -- that's where I get it from), he became our babysitter for the next year or so. He would make sure that homework was done and that dinner was made; took us on random field trips to the History Museum or the Arch, and would pack us up in the evening to pick Grandma up from work. He was always there, for us and for our friends.
I tried to call Grandma & Grandpa at least once a week when I was away at school, but there were times when I'd get busy and completely forget to do anything but go to class and sleep. About ten days into the cycle, I'd get "missed call" messages on my cell phone. Grandpa would call, but not leave a message, because he didn't want to bother me. I'd talk to mom, who'd say, "call your grandparents, they're worried about you but don't want to bother you." Now that he's gone, I wish he'd bothered me more often, or that I'd had more time to call him. I'd get random cards, and Grandma's cookies were always a big hit, but what touched me the most was when he'd call and say "I just saw something in the paper . . . I'll save it and send it to you." I have random clippings scattered throughout my folders from school; things that Grandpa thought I'd be interested in. No matter where I was -- and boy did he worry when I left the country for nine days -- I never wondered whether he was thinking of me, and I never considered that he wouldn't be there when I got back. Now that he's gone, those of us who knew him will take the lessons he taught and continue to apply them to our lives; and we will pass them on to the next generation. Grandpa wasn't the type of person to just fade away, it wasn't his style. He was my Grandpa -- and he will remain, as he always has been, a solid, strong, permanent fixture in my life.
"Graf, Joseph L. May 8, 2006, age 77.
Beloved husband for 51 years of Lucille Ann (Schneider) Graf; father to Joseph C. (Anne) Graf and Cheryl A. (Mark) D'Harlingue; grandfather to 6; great-grandfather to 1; son of the late Joseph and Grace M. (House, Graf, Kraemer) Butz; brother to Charles (Marilyn) Graf.
Attended Mt. Pleasant Grade School, Cleveland High School, St. Louis Univ., Washington Univ., Bailey Tech School (Auto Mech). He was in the Air Force thirteen years, worked for Gusdorf and Sons, Prudential Ins., J.L. Distr. and as an auto mechanic, retiring in 1994.
Services: Memorial Service will be held at KUTIS SOUTH COUNTY Chapel, 5255 Lemay Ferry Rd. (at Butler Hill) Sat., May 13, 1 p.m. In lieu of flowers please contribute to the charity of your choice."
It is, as he often was, simple, to-the-point, and with minimal embellishment.
I'm working up something to say at the memorial Saturday, so I'm going to start here.
The man I called "Grandpa" was and will remain the most influential male role model in my life. From him, I learned how to pitch without throwing "like a girl." He taught me the only card trick I can still remember; although he made it much more believable than I ever could. It's thanks to him that I can occasionally recognize the voice of Old Blue Eyes, and that I know to shift to 2nd gear when going down "the hill" in winter. In his own way, he impressed upon me the importance of evaluating a person based on their abilities and character, rather than their appearance or background. Most importantly, though, he taught me how a man is supposed to treat the people he loves. As much as he teased everyone -- including Grandma, and many of you will know what I mean when I say "Joseph, you're gettin' on my last nerve!" -- he always had our best interests in mind.
Grandpa loved his family more than words can adequately describe, and he never hesitated to make sure we knew it. The last thing he said to me was how proud he was of me, and how much he loved me. That, and to be careful on my trip to North Carolina.
I know he worried about me, like he did about all of us -- I've been told that's in the "grandparent handbook" they give out when the babies are born -- right along with the "parent handbook," I'm sure. Like parents, I believe that grandparents do the best job they know how to do, and Grandpa did it well. When I was away at school, he made sure that every time I came home, my car went in for an oil change -- "you take it into Joe Bess," he'd say, "don't worry about the bill, it's taken care of," and it always was. I still have a credit card in my wallet, Grandpa gave it to me when I left for school the first time -- six years ago this Fall -- "in case of emergencies, he said, use it if you need to, we don't even need to tell your mom." I may have used it for gas or a hotel room on the drive home a few times, but when I graduated & tried to give it back, he said "go ahead & keep it, just in case." I got a real, paying, grown-up job, and he said the same thing, "just in case." Grandpa did the best to take care of the "just in cases."
He retired in '94 largely because Mom, Little Brother & I were living with him & Grams, and we couldn't find a reliable babysitter. Figuring that he'd do a better job anyway (which was usually his line of thought -- that's where I get it from), he became our babysitter for the next year or so. He would make sure that homework was done and that dinner was made; took us on random field trips to the History Museum or the Arch, and would pack us up in the evening to pick Grandma up from work. He was always there, for us and for our friends.
I tried to call Grandma & Grandpa at least once a week when I was away at school, but there were times when I'd get busy and completely forget to do anything but go to class and sleep. About ten days into the cycle, I'd get "missed call" messages on my cell phone. Grandpa would call, but not leave a message, because he didn't want to bother me. I'd talk to mom, who'd say, "call your grandparents, they're worried about you but don't want to bother you." Now that he's gone, I wish he'd bothered me more often, or that I'd had more time to call him. I'd get random cards, and Grandma's cookies were always a big hit, but what touched me the most was when he'd call and say "I just saw something in the paper . . . I'll save it and send it to you." I have random clippings scattered throughout my folders from school; things that Grandpa thought I'd be interested in. No matter where I was -- and boy did he worry when I left the country for nine days -- I never wondered whether he was thinking of me, and I never considered that he wouldn't be there when I got back. Now that he's gone, those of us who knew him will take the lessons he taught and continue to apply them to our lives; and we will pass them on to the next generation. Grandpa wasn't the type of person to just fade away, it wasn't his style. He was my Grandpa -- and he will remain, as he always has been, a solid, strong, permanent fixture in my life.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Dealing
My grandpa passed away last night.
Today would have been 8 weeks since his surgery; he's been in the ICU ever since. In one of his lucid/coherent moments yesterday, the doctors asked what he wanted, and he said he wanted to be taken off the machines. Most of the family was there -- little brother is up at school, he has finals this week; and the two youngest cousins were at home.
Some of you may remember my audio blog from March, where I mentioned that Grandpa's biggest reminder was that, if something went wrong, we had to call the Pasta House. So there I am last night in the hospital, everyone's crying, and all I can think of is "we have to call the Pasta House!" -- today, Mom mistakenly said "Olive Garden" & I'm like, "no, no, it's the Pasta House, whatever you do, it has to be the Pasta House!"
I'm not sure if I'll be blogging about this anymore, I'm trying to do what I've always done & be the rock for my family; while dealing with the loss of the most influential male role model in my life.
Today would have been 8 weeks since his surgery; he's been in the ICU ever since. In one of his lucid/coherent moments yesterday, the doctors asked what he wanted, and he said he wanted to be taken off the machines. Most of the family was there -- little brother is up at school, he has finals this week; and the two youngest cousins were at home.
Some of you may remember my audio blog from March, where I mentioned that Grandpa's biggest reminder was that, if something went wrong, we had to call the Pasta House. So there I am last night in the hospital, everyone's crying, and all I can think of is "we have to call the Pasta House!" -- today, Mom mistakenly said "Olive Garden" & I'm like, "no, no, it's the Pasta House, whatever you do, it has to be the Pasta House!"
I'm not sure if I'll be blogging about this anymore, I'm trying to do what I've always done & be the rock for my family; while dealing with the loss of the most influential male role model in my life.
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