VeVa Hicks, my Great Grandmother of no relation, and how she came to me

My Grandmother was born into a hospital and left.  Harry and Elizabeth (Bessie) Mack chose her to be their daughter.  They named her Mildred Lucille Mack.  Elizabeth's cousin and her husband also chose a baby girl for their own.  They named her Velma.  MyMom and PopPop took Velma home to live in the city.  Harry and Bessie took Mildred home to live in the country.  Elizabeth became ill and Harry moved the family to the city to be closer to family and medical care.  They moved into a house across the street from MyMom, PopPop, and Velma. 

When my grandmother was seven (or perhaps 14; my mother and I remember the story differently) Elizabeth passed from this earth.  MyMom stepped in to help Harry raise Mildred.  The story I heard was that MyMom stepped in out of obligation.  Providing the basic necessities a girl needs, but not much more. 

VeVa and Elmer Hicks lived next door to MyMom and PopPop.  VeVa was Elmer's second wife and a decade younger than MyMom.  She was the Fairy Godmother to MyMom's wicked stepmother.  Of course neither is an entirely accurate description, but it makes things easier to imagine. 

I grew up knowing VeVa as my Great Grandmother.  I never knew the difference.  My Great Grandmother... She visited every state, and every continent.  She lived to be 101.   Born February 12, 1894.  She told me stories of snuff boxes, the great floods, panning for gold, and the necklace made of her grandfather's buttons from his civil war uniform.  She made sour cherry jam.  She spent a lifetime bowling.  She donated blood to the red cross every chance that she had.  For her 90th birthday she wanted to go skydiving.  At the age of 76 VeVa had a hip replacement.  This in itself is nothing... old ladies have hip replacements all the time. What is unusual is how she broke her hip.  The story I was told (by her) was completely VeVa.  She was sitting on a porch in the summer doing needlework (or at least pretending to).  In truth she was watching the kids in the lot across the street play baseball.  She decided that sitting on the sidelines was what an old lady would do.  She crossed the street and took her place at the pitchers mound.  I never saw VeVa in anything but a dress and pumps.  She was wearing pumps that day.  She planted her foot and threw a pitch.  Her pump stuck in the soft earth.  Her body turned, but her hip didn't.  Amazing woman.

My daughter Claudia was born on September 25, 1995.  Just a few days later she made her first outing to the funeral home and then the cemetary.  VeVa was laid to rest peacefully next to Elmer in the last days of September, 1995.  My Great Grandmother of no relation. My family.

Cookies, ABBA, and Blood... (alternately titled - reason #278 that my life is a damn telenovella)

This completely true story actually happened way back in March, but after you read this you will either laugh or run away and never come back... Oh... and the #278 is a random number... I don't actually have a list, but I'm thinking of starting one.

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Tonight is League Band (i know nothing to do with cookies, abba, or blood... bare with me)


Important things to remember:


1. Short Pants went to bed (both times) in Daschund pajamas.

2. My sheets are black.

3. I'm 1/3 of the way through painting the hallway.


Cookies - Tonight is League Band and Bebe decided to donate cookies in lieu of the $5 dinner fee. So I bought $15 worth of cookie ingredients and she baked cookies last night after karate class (we didn't get home until 8:45) So at 11pm the cookies are finally cool enough to pack up and I finally get to go to bed... for 2 1/2 hours...


ABBA - At 1:30 in the morning I am awakened by cold wet little hands. My first question is "why are you wet?" And Short Pantssays, "I had to pee." Several agonizing seconds later I realize that the cold/wet combo indicates she washed her hands but didn't take the time to actually dry them. Ok good! No pee on my face! (I'm getting to ABBA.. jeez... hang the fuck on!)


Next question to Short Pants... "why are you here?"


Short Pants - "My radio is broked, I need you to turn up the living room so I can hear it in my sleep."


Mom - "Honey, it's not broken, the cd is just over. I'll come fix it." (I'm getting to ABBA... promise)


So I push the magic button to restart the usual bed time CD (I really need to teach this kid to push the damn button) and Short Pants says "mom!!! I already heard that one!" So I mistakenly ask "what do you want to listen to?" And she says "Mama Mia." But the look on her face said "Duh... MOTHER... Mama Mia... HELLO???" So I head to the huge stack of CD's that are supposed to be neatly in the hallway and start digging looking for a damn ABBA CD. (see I'm there... ABBA) I finally find ABBA Gold and set the kid up... hoping she doesn't get pissed because the songs are being sung by ABBA and not the crew from the movie.


Back to bed around 1:45...


Blood - Happy Butt (my cat) likes to sleep on my feet. Unfortunately I move when I sleep and I often startle him... when this happens he grabs on with is sharp cat claws. So cat scratches don't even wake me up anymore... they are the norm. What woke me up at 3:15ish this morning was the searing pain as I pulled my foot away from the sheet... You see... my foot was stuck to the sheet because of the dried blood! OH MY FUCKING GAWD DAMN IT ALL TO HELL THAT HURTS!


So im my sleep (sans glasses) state I click on the bedside lamp and see red on my foot. "damnit... need to clean up the scratch" So I swing my feet out of bed and put my hand down beside me to aid in the get the fuck out of bed moment... and "FUCK WHAT IS WET NOW?" I look at my hand and "FUCK BLOOD??? - what kind of freddie kruger shit is this?"

I decided glasses are in order and head to the bathroom to clean and assess. What I don't realize until I reach the white linoleum is that Happy Butt has punctured a vein and each time I step there is an 18 inch stream of blook shooting out of my leg. Even after I get the the bathroom I have to step done 3 or 4 times before it registers that there is a FUCKING PROBLEM HERE!


So I grab a semi clean towel and apply pressure... FUCK NOW WHAT? If I step I shoot blood everywhere... If I yell for Bebe I'm gonna wake up Short Pants and she is gonna FREAKIN FLIP OUT!


I hobble back to the bed and sit down right in the salad plate size pool of blood (remember the black sheets) So now I have blood on my bed, my ass, my palm, my foot, my linoleum, and my carpet!


I decide to do what any self respecing, mature, grown up, 37 year old woman would do... I call my Mommy.


Me - "it's not life threatning... I'm sorry to wake you."


Mom - "well what is it?"


me - a quick over view of the blood everywhere can't get it to stop scenerio


mom - we'll (mom comes with a dad) be right over.

5 minutes later they arrive. Dad is ready for action. Dressed for town, complete with belt! Ready to go to the emergency room in style. Mom... looks annoyed. Dad checks the wound and realizes that it's a FUCKING CAT SCRATCH and switches to clean and dress it mode. Mom still looks annoyed. She can't see the blood I'm sitting in... or the blood in the bathroom... or the blood on the quilt behind me... or the blood on the carpet... only the blood on my foot.


Dad cleans up my foot and applies a huge MOTHER FUCKING bandage... just in case I decide to bleed out from a cat scratch on my ankle.


Then he send mom to the kitchen for cleaning supplies so they can work on cleaning up the blood before it gets dry and crusty. Mom comes back with multipurpose cleaner with bleach. BLEACH!


Finally mom gets a look at the bathroom floor and says "OH SHIT... THAT'S A LOT OF BLOOD." Thank you captain obvious. Dad takes the cleaner with BLEACH and begins to spray it all over the blood on my CARPET. And then mom sprays the cleaner with BLEACH all over the blood on my QUILT. (you know the one that belonged to my now deceased mother-in-law... yeah that quilt. Well fuck... at least it has an interesting story now) Finally the three of us clean the bathroom floor. (in retrospect I should have gotten a couple of Barbies and made a horror flick for youtube. The spatter was awesome... oh well next time maybe)

I'm thinking at this point Mom and Dad are gonna go home... but no. Mom strips my bed and takes everything with her. So now Mom is doing my laundry (which she hasn't done since I was 10. Yeah... I'm a grown up)

I lay back down at 4am... and think well shit... I've got to be up in an HOUR! So yeah... i'm a little tired today.


Oh... and thing to remember #1... sometime between the 1:30 ABBA moment and the 3 am Blood Bath Short Pants got up, went to the kitchen, rummaged through her birthday presents to find the froggy nightgown and changed her clothes...

You just can't make this shit up. (p.s. Short Pants and Bebe didn't hear a thing... awesome.)