Hmmmm, on the interesting news front, Michele Obama shops at Target. What is there not to love about that? Plus, when shopping for a dress to wear on the View, she only spends $112! I wonder if she shops the clearance end caps at Target?

To many weird things in the news lately. I think I will leave it alone this week. Instead, you'll read some grandbaby news.

I'm not a fan of instant messaging, but it does have it's moments, like when I sign on and there is my son, in Iraq, and I get to have a conversation with him, and know he's ok for another day. Then there are the conversations where one person needs to just type away till they feel better. This is a conversation I just finished with my daughter-in-law and Drue (almost 3) who is at Fort Polk, LA while husband/my son is in Iraq. She's been having a bad week but she shared this with me. I am debbro (and this is long because of the cut and paste):

debbro: at least your son isn't making himself balloon boobies

joy: not yet

joy: he don't know how

joy: he is captain underpants

joy: i told you that right

debbro: no, you haven't

joy: imagine it is 6 am

joy: and he wakes me up

joy: Drue: good mornin' I woke up!

joy: ok

joy: good morning

joy: lets go downstairs and go potty

joy: ok

joy: away we go

joy: ok, undressed and gone potty

joy: time to get dressed

joy: Drue: NO!

joy: yes come here and get dressed

joy: Drue: NO!

joy: ok, fine I'll make some coffee for me while you chill in the breeze

joy: coffee is dripping away

joy: he comes and says he is cold

joy: ok

joy: fine get dressed

joy: here is your spider man undies

joy: ok

joy: cool

joy: ok here is your pants

joy: Drue: NO!

joy: runs off

joy: scamper scamper

joy: gone

joy: coffee is done

joy: ding

joy: good for me

joy: I pour my first cup, it is always the best

joy: ok drue lets go out on the porch and sit on the swing

joy: by now it is about 6:15

joy: I'm cold

joy: well, he gives me a blankie

joy: Drue: I wanna cape

joy: ok, tie it on

joy: still not awake, Me

joy: that is

joy: he pulls it up on his cape and roars, like he is a monster

joy: ok

joy: he is

joy: I take a sip of the gooooooood coffee

joy: and try to awaken myself

joy: lets go out now

joy: ok

joy: running to the door

joy: out on the porch.......

joy: i am sitting on the swing drinking away

joy: i look up at the cars going by

joy: it is a busy morning i notice

joy: why the hell is everyone looking over here laughing?

joy: I wonder

joy: and wonder

joy: I look

joy: to see

joy: Drue

joy: is standing on the front steps to the house in his cape pulled over his head

joy: standing in the peter pan stance

joy: hands on hips and all

joy: proudly with shoulders held high and cape thrown back

joy: he is captain underpants

joy: smiling away

joy: showing all he has to the world

joy: wow

joy: I think

joy: as I take the last of my coffee and drink it all down quickly

joy: wow

joy: ok, d-man lets go in and finish this getting dressed thing

joy: OK!!!

joy: seriously

joy: it happened just like that

debbro: the underpants weren't on his head were they?

joy: cape was

joy: undies in butt

joy: just like captain underpants

debbro: that is freaking funny

joy: I swear it was the funniest thing I have ever seen

joy: it is

joy: I will embarrass him with that for as long as I am breathing

debbro: somewhere in this house I have a captain underpants book

joy: there is something called captain underpants?

debbro: yep

joy: wow

joy: I thought it was a d-man exclusive

debbro: its a book. I'll look for the book

joy: I wish I would have had it on video

joy: it would have won us money

debbro : i know, we all need camcorders

joy: it was something unforgettable the way he was standing and the proud look on his face

joy: mixed with the smile

joy: wow

debbro: that is a moment to cherish. I wish i could have seen it

joy: and it was all in the look on peoples faces as they were driving by

joy: comical

joy: ok, i feel better

debbro : good!

joy: 'seriously

joy: wow

joy: I do hate it here

joy: it is overwhelming at times though

debbro: I understand. I hated Florida the same way

debbro: 6 or 7 more months he'll be home

The other day Joy sent me an e-mail with another conversation she had with Drue and this one made me cry:

I went in to check on drue about 10 min after I had him lay down, he tells me, lay down.  I do with him.  he puts my head on the pillow, says go to sleep, I said ok, pretend snoring...... he says, I WAKE UP!  I said good morning, but Im sleeping, still snoring...

Mommy?

Yes Drue?

I habe clouds, (pointing at his celing)

yes, you sure do, Mommy painted them for you...

Mommy?...

Yes Drue?....

I habe pictures ob Daddy, (pointing at the ones on the wall)

Yes you do, cause Daddy dosnt want you to forget him...

I not forget daddy..

Mommy?

Yes Drue?

I daddy with us. (want)

I do to baby, but daddy is working for a long long time...

Mommy, I want daddy to come home soon,... AAAAmeennn.

 a conversation with our super sweet baby boy. 

Me: I want his daddy home too. Amen!!!!

  For those who might be keeping score and delight in my adventures in math, I got my first math test back in 32 years. YEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I got a B. I might have gotten an A if I had gone over my answers for a third time, but I didn't, so I got a B. I'm not unhappy with that B when I consider the fact I used to get F's. Now if only the flipping class would shut their traps while he is teaching, I might make it through fractions.

And did I mention I am in pain? No? I had knee surgery a few years back, long story, and just before Easter did something, and now I can barely walk. I must remember to make an appointment with my knee, shoulder, and hand doctor. So, one of you is in charge of reminding me. I have some new pics to upload as soon as I get them developed. Yes, developed. Is that even possible anymore?

So off to bed I go.

It was night. A thunderstorm had just rolled through the area so pavement and grass were still wet, there was a brisk breeze and I could hear the flag snapping in the wind. I went inside for a quick meal for Tim and I to hold us over until we reached home. We were both tired and we settled in to eat right then and there in the parking lot. That was when I noticed the man, attempting to lay out a black cloth of some kind, and the more he tried to get it on the ground, the more it flipped back up in the air; sort of like a picnic cloth on a windy day.
 

I watched while munching on my fries, wondering what he was going to do, almost ready to have the comment, “dinner and a show” come out of my mouth, when he knelt on his cloth to pray. This was a ritual I had only caught glimpses of on television, but in front of me, it came to life, and while I felt I was intruding, I could not tear my eyes away.
 

It was beautiful. He didn't care that there were people walking by, some staring, but most not. For him, there was no one around, it was just him and God. My husband and I watched every movement, precise, nothing wasted. His attention never wavered. He was praying to his Father in Heaven.
 

When he stood, and picked up his cloth and put on his shoes, I knew then that I had been given a glimpse of God. There was no burning bush, no flash of lightning, just a man worshiping in the tradition of his father and his father before him.

What happened after that is not important, all I know is that as we drove away, my husband and I were better people for the gift that we had been given, a reminder that we need to be more open with sharing what we believe in.

Remember those four pages of imporatant facts that cost our parents twenty-five cents for the year? Here is my version, but free. 

#1 On the heels of learning that grandma died, imagine my shock and that of my husband' when watching the News Hour with James Leahr (and where is he anyway?) to learn of Tim Russert's death. I had just watched him the other night, my husband had watched him just this morning, and now he is gone.
 

To be honest, I had never heard of Tim Russert until the Democratic Debates started, and there he was; the primaries, there he was.  He became a fixture in my mind's eye of what could and could not be believed from the political world.  I can honestly say that since Feb 2007, Tim Russert became like the family uncle I could go to and ask honest questions that he wouldn't have found stupid, and Uncle Tim would have treated those questions with respect.  I am sorry that he won't be there on election night telling us with his white board what is going on.  My heart goes out to his wife, son, and father.  Here is one link about his death:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080614/ap_on_en_tv/obit_russert

and a link to the last interview he gave:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25137286/
 

#2 Please tell me I am not the only one offended by the following headline:

Barack Obama's wife Michelle a 'baby mama' says Fox News
 

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/uselection2008/barackobama/2122448/Barack-Obama's-wife-Michelle-a-'baby-mama'-says-Fox-News.html
 

Forget for a moment I am a Woman for Obama, this headline is just not offensive to their family, (imagine having to explain to your daughters what that very racist remark meant) but to any woman in general, black, white, yellow, purple or pink.  I would have found it offensive if it had been a smear toward Mrs Bush, Mrs McCain (and I detest their husband's politics or lack of), but even HRC would have had my sympathy on this one had the slur been towards her.  When I heard of the slur against the Clinton's daughter and how she was being pimped out, I was ready to shut off the tv and never read the news again until after the elections.  I remember how cruel the press was to Amy Carter and her looks, or lack of, according to the press.  Have we sunk to the level in politics that when we run out of arrows to shoot at the candidates, we start shooting at their spouses and children?  And what does it say when a husband has to start a website devoted to dis-prove the smears?  All I can say is that many in the Republican party and the press could take lessons on graciousness and on how to be a gentleman from Obama.  He is a class act all the way.  P,S, I'm white and have used the term whitey many, many times.  Only in reference to the color of my legs. Boy, they are white!
 

#3 Top Chef Rocks! Three cheers for Stephanie.  Not only is she the first woman to win the title, but she is also the first to win that didn't have a vocabulary that would rival that of a trucker from the old days. She proved that she could cook and not back bite at the same time, or in one case, sabotage a pot of rice. 
 

#4 My grandson turns two today, Flag Day. Happy Birthday Mountain Dew.  Grandma loves and adores you.  If you have a flag, display it, if you don't, print one off the internet and display it.  If you don't have a printer, draw one on paper.  If you have no crayons or paper, go to the Dollar Tree and buy one for a dollar.  We need more flags hanging around to remind us of what is truly important.
 

Until next time....................

************warning..........very long..........but hopefully worth reading*************
 

24 hours ago, at the time of this writing, my grandma went to Home. This was a trip she had been waiting for, well, almost two years. Grandpa had died, grandma was blind, and after almost 73 years of marriage, I guess she just didn't want to be alone. It was kind of hard to take seriously, for as long as I have known her, every conversation would end with 'talk to you soon, God willing.' After 15 years of this, one could understand the joking at my house when I would tell my husband, 'Got a letter from grandma.” His reply? 'Well, she ain't dead yet then.' When grandma would talk about being ready to go to the other side of the veil, I would tell her she couldn't. She hadn't been my grandma long enough, and she was the only grandma I had left. “Grandma, I still need you.'

See, I didn't meet grandma until I found my real dad. I won't go into the details, but when I found my dad, grandma was like a bonus. You know, the chocolate you find on a hotel pillow, or, when in the Spring you walk into your backyard and there is one perfect tulip among all the dandelions. Grandma was that kind of bonus.

Physically, grandma and I only spent time together twice; times I also spent with my dad, getting to know him and my new family, while also trying to find where I fit in at the age of thirty-five with a brother and sister the same age as my daughters and son. The last time I spent time with grandma, she, Helene (my dad's wife) and I were out shopping, and she was talking about how all her family and friends were either dead, dying, or no longer able to write, and she told us how she would miss having someone to write to. Impulsively, I told her I would write to her and I haven't regretted one moment of that correspondence. So much has and happened in my life since that time and all of it I was able to share with her. We became, what I learned the term for in Sociology, a dyad. We became a unit unto ourselves. Even with all my family surrounding me, and all of her family surrounding her, often it just seemed like the two of us.

Here are some of the things and times we shared: When I married my husband at the Little Brown Church in the Vale, she would play that hymn every night on her organ before going to bed. When I went to France with my daughters she sent a check to cover a nice meal in a fancy French restaurant, and even told me where we should go. We found that we had a love of the violin in common when I took it up at the ripe old age of 40. She had also played the violin and if I remember correctly, she was in an orchestra. She and grandpa both loved to read, and when I would write something, I would always send them a copy. My biggest fans. When she would write letters, she would always tuck in something, a newspaper clipping of my Aunt Sally's column, a church bulletin, pictures of her and grandpa, her and my dad, and other family members. It was often through her I found out family news. When her sight started going, I would type my letters in large fonts so she could have the independence of reading them on her own. It was through her that family would find out what was going on with me and mine. My children alone made her a great-great-grandma five times. The sixth is due in August.

She cheered my going back to school, asked me about my faith, and never set judgment on my beliefs, even when those in her Assisted Living Center would tell her otherwise. She would let me send her things to explain what I believed, not to challenge me or change me, or I to change her, but to learn more about me. She would then go back to her friends and report they were wrong. When she went completely blind, she started listening to books on tape, and whenever I would come across one, I bought it for her. Thank goodness for the Dollar Tree!

While grandpa was still alive I made the two of them their own fleece blankets that they loved so much they got rid of their down comforter. I knit for her a scarf, and when she called to thank me, she thanked me for the belt. She would often tell me how she was complimented on it every time she wore it down to dinner. After grandpa died, I designed and knit for her a comfort shawl. It was at the foot of her bed when she died. I like knowing that a part of me was with her when she left this earth.

The last time I talked to grandma was a Sunday afternoon. She called to talk to me about “my man” Obama and what did I think of him being a Muslim and other things like that. I remember that the conversation was funny as hell, and when we hung up, I shared it with my husband. She also loved talking to him on the phone, she would always tell me what a beautiful voice he had. That night grandma ended up in the hospital and wasn't expected to make it to Mother's Day. She did, and I got to have one last conversation with her where she told me she was upset about still being alive, to which I replied that she shouldn't have rung the buzzer for help. Her response? “I know.” How can you not laugh? I knew that this would be the last time I would probably speak with her and I told her how much I loved her and thanked her for being a really great grandma, that I would miss her, but would see her again.

For whatever reason, she hung on for almost a month; I personally believe she was hiding out from grandpa. Turns out she had some issues.

The legacy she left me is more than the beautiful violin night light she left to me. Her legacy is the 15 years of unconditional love and acceptance I received from her. When we met, our relationship was a blank slate; for she didn't know the Debbie that had problems growing up, the Debbie whose family members would whisper about and the lies that were passed around like popcorn by her mother and step-father, she was never told how I wasn't real, the Debbie who was married twice before and going at it for a third; no, she only knew I was her granddaughter and that was good enough. She was a priceless gift, for the cost of what she gave me can never have enough numbers to calculate her worth, and the package way to large to hold in my small hands.

For the rest of my life I will feel that I am missing a part of me, but only the physical part of her is gone. The part I still have, her love, will continue on through me to my six beautiful grandchildren. After all, isn't that what you do with a legacy?

If you could only see me now. I am mentally jumping up and down in my mind, waving an Obama for President sign. I have been waiting for this moment since I went to his rally, where he talked about Change early in '07, before announcing he was going to run for President. His was the first political rally, ok, first rally ever, I had been to. I am an Independent, and when I heard there was an African-American guy appearing on campus who might run for President, I had to go. I dragged my best (republican) girl-friend, and yes, I got swept up in the excitement of it all. I yelled, I clapped, I woo-hooed to my hearts content, and waved an Obama sign. I also bought the t-shirt (I'm a mama for Obama).

What has kept me these past 16 months with a candidate that many thought was a shot in the dark? I'm not black. I certainly was not a democrat, Independents rarely are. After Gore had the Presidency stolen from him in 2000, I had just about given up on politics. I started having the mindset of many of, “why vote if my vote doesn't count and can be over-ridden?” I had a son who joined the Army in order to support himself and his wife, and where did he end up? In Afghanistan with snow up to his thighs, frost-bitten toes and no heat in his tent. He was putting his life in jeopardy along with the lives of his unit, and I was okay with that. Then I learned he was going to be sent to Iraq, a war/fight/police action that should never have been started, by a man who should never have been President.

That night at the rally, I stood in line, not really expecting to shake Obamas' hand, or talk to him even, but I still stood there. And waited with all the other hopefuls who were pressing books into his hands for autographs, and I watched him. I watched him shake hands with each and every person there in line, say a small word to them, smile. And he got to me and shook my hand, and started moving on, only I didn't let go. I held on to his hand till he had no choice but to look at me and I was able to ask the one question that as a mother was most important to me, “if you are elected, will you bring my boy home?” He asked me where he was and I told him Afghanistan and he covered my hand with his other and told me yes.

I looked in his eyes and knew he was telling me the truth. What I saw in his eyes that night was not a black man who might run for this nation's highest office, but a man who was genuine, caring, and race didn't matter. I saw a future for our country that I could be proud of, instead of ashamed.

Since that night, I have watched every debate, read every article, joined his campaign, watched as he had to fight again and again to explain that he was American and not Muslim. I was watching the night a lady asked why he didn't wear a flag pin on his lapel, but didn't ask Clinton the same question of her patriotism. Patriotism is more than a pin, and I hope that woman has learned it by now. I watched my husband, always a staunch Republican, grow as a person and learn that it is not always about party loyalty, but what is best for the country.

I watched Obama grow as a politician into a statesman. But what I was impressed with the most? No matter what was thrown at him from other candidates, the journalists, the tabloids, and even the American people themselves, first and foremost, he was a gentleman. Who was the last true gentleman elected to office? I don't know, I'm only 50.

So, tune in this Fall for the greatest race of the season. You won't be sorry.

Here is what she said:

"I think people have short memories. Primary contests used to last a lot longer. We all remember the great tragedy of Bobby Kennedy being assassinated in June in L.A. My husband didn't wrap up the nomination in 1992 until June, also in California. Having a primary contest go through June is nothing particularly unusual. We will see how it unfolds as we go forward over the next three to four months."

The nation gasped!  Got angry!  Showed emotion even.  So, then she said:

"I regret that if my referencing that moment of trauma for our entire nation, and particularly for the Kennedy family, was in any way offensive."

Well..............duh!

Here is what she didn't say................................"Im sorry."

I am a born on the edge baby-boomer, 1958.  I will admit that I don't feel boom-ey, but I do feel like fourteen years of history (1958 to 1972) passed me by.   


In 1963, I remember surfing music, watching Mickey Mouse Club and home perms.  1963 also witnessed the assassination of JFK and Martin Luther King's, I have a Dream speech.  Years later, as a mother, I would relive the “dream” when my kindergarten son came home with a paper that said: 'I have a dream......to one day be a bus driver.'  Thank you Reverend King.


In 1968, the year I turned 10, there were three important events I will always associate with my birthday: the assassinations of MLK, Bobby Kennedy, and the paralyzing stroke of my beloved grandpa.  It was a three month time span that all this happened.  As a side note, I want to mention that many of my memories as a child and adult are tied in with music, saying this, it was only a few years ago that I realized the Abraham in the song Abraham, Martin, and John was not the Abraham of the Bible, but was in fact, Abraham Lincoln.


Somewhere between 1962 and 1972 there was the Vietnam war, peace demonstrations, sit-ins, protest songs, long hair.......male and female, short skirts, and bell bottoms.  Overshadowing the peace signs and love-ins were the dying sons and daughters of our nations' mothers; 58,000 known dead.  My uncle served in Vietnam but I was too young to know of the danger he was in.  I only knew he was someplace far away.  It is only as a mother with a son in Iraq that I can begin to appreciate what the mothers of Vietnam went through as I would sit and worry, lie awake and worry, and sometimes just cry from the worrying. 


My Uncle came home safe, and I have to believe and trust that my son will also come home safe.


Somewhere between 1963 and 1972, I catch mind glimpses of:
       
    Woodstock
    Kent State
    Watergate and Deep throat
    Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young
    Donny Osmond
    Helter Skelter
    Bussing
    Tornado Drills (short skirts and dresses were hell for this activity)
    Under the stars musical theater 
    Bye-bye Miss American Pie
    Dark Shadows
    School prayer


Year? 1976. 200th birthday of our nation, and my freedom from High School.  As his graduation gift to all his senior students, our Government teacher registered us to vote.  I remember sitting at his desk and being asked if I was Republican or Democrat.  I didn't know.  He then asked what my parents were, again, I didn't know.  A gleam came to his eye, and he said, "You're Republican!"  That year I was the first in my family to vote.  Fast forward to today, and I am an Independent who turned Democrat just to vote for the cute guy who gives me hope.


So, is there anything I was old enough for?  Drive-In movie make-out sessions.  I do believe that a trip to Chesterland is in order for a double feature, homemade popcorn, and a make-out session with my husband.
 

 Congratulations to the polar bears.  They have finally arrived at that special time in the lives of any species..............endangered.  How else would we know they were disappearing from our lives without a special vote or bill?  Would the zoos have to taxidermitize their dead ones and pose them?  Surely not!  What would a coca-cola ad be without them at Christmas?  Would we have to go back to people singing ’I’d like to teach the world to sing. . . ’ while standing in a circle holding hands.

I know. I know.  What does this have to do with anything earthshattering or important?  Nothing, Just have a little time to kill while at the computer.  While at Wally-World the other night I impulsively picked up one of those cute little four packs of the 8.5 oz bottles (limited edition), original recipe (I’m assuming).  So, as I am sitting here copying my cd singles into my media library, I decided to try one.  I use my shirt to take the cap off, no go.  I actually had to use a bottle opener.  Luckily for me, I have one. 

I sit with the bottle in my hand, take a whiff as if I am about to taste some fine wine, (don’t drink) and swig it down just like I used to as a kid.  Yep, Coca-cola managed to get the whole experience just like yesterday.  Down to the green bottle taste and the fizz.  There is one thing different though, there is now a nutrition label on the bottle.  I didn’t need the information as a kid, and I don’t need the information now to take a short sip down memory lane.

 Congratulations to the polar bears.  They have finally arrived at that special time in the lives of any species..............endangered.  How else would we know they were disappearing from our lives without a special vote or bill?  Would the zoos have to taxidermitize their dead ones and pose them?  Surely not!  What would a coca-cola ad be without them at Christmas?  Would we have to go back to people singing 'I'd like to teach the world to sing. . . ' while standing in a circle holding hands.

I know. I know.  What does this have to do with anything earthshattering or important?  Nothing, Just have a little time to kill while at the computer.  While at Wally-World the other night I impulsively picked up one of those cute little four packs of the 8.5 oz bottles (limited edition), original recipe (I'm assuming).  So, as I am sitting here copying my cd singles into my media library, I decided to try one.  I use my shirt to take the cap off, no go.  I actually had to use a bottle opener.  Luckily for me, I have one. 

I sit with the bottle in my hand, take a whiff as if I am about to taste some fine wine, (don't drink) and swig it down just like I used to as a kid.  Yep, Coca-cola managed to get the whole experience just like yesterday.  Down to the green bottle taste and the fizz.  There is one thing different though, there is now a nutrition label on the bottle.  I didn't need the information as a kid, and I don't need the information now to take a short sip down memory lane.