Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Still in a Dream

I still feel like I'm in a dream. Or a nightmare.

As I sat down in my grandfather's office to do some work and write this, I noticed something.

My grandfather has always been big on education. I think he's a big part of the reason why I did well in school, went on to get a BS and a BA with a 3.98 GPA (even though it took me 7 part-time years), then continued on to get an MBA. I think he's a big part of the reason why in 20 years when my house is paid off, my kids are on their own (kinda), and I can afford the pay cut, I'll get a Ph.D and spend the rest of my life teaching.

The last time grandpa was in St. Louis was in 2005 when I graduated with my MBA. He was very proud of me, I could tell. I still have the bottle of Dom that we shared.

Just before he left, I gave him my tassle. He knew exactly what it meant that I was giving it to him, and it meant a lot to him.

So back to what I was saying. As I sat down in Grandpa's office to do some work and to write this, I looked over and saw my tassle hanging proudly on his wall.

I showed it to my dad and my aunt. My aunt told me I could take it. I declined, saying, "No, I'll let it go to wherever the rest of his stuff will go."

I looked through his old photo albums, which by the way were about 80% pictures of me, and only took one picture. It was my third birthday party and it's a picture of me with all four of my grandparents (my blood grandparents, that is). Probably the only such picture.

Of course, Grandpa Kelley is holding me in that picture. :)

I'd love to go into more detail about some of the goings-on in my mind during this trip to Tucson, but this is, not

Speaking of Andy... I'll be arriving in St. Louis at 11:00 tonight. 9:30am tomorrow, we're back in the hospital. Friday he will receive his chemo.

I don't know whether or not I mentioned it, but Andy's hair started falling out. Julie shaved his head Tuesday. Of course we saved his hair.

Emma, Emma, Emma. "Emma, what the hell are you doing?" has become the most common phrase around my house. Emma looks like she could be my aunt Jerrie's daughter. Or she looks like she could be her sister. Emma and my aunt Jerrie both look like my grandma Kelley. For this reason, if nothing else, I wish my grandfather could have seen Emma in person.

I'm getting sick of having to work on top of everything else. Instead of being a pleasure, my job has turned into a huge thorn in my side. I don't need that crap with all of this going on.

Meet me in St. Louis!

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